43. Tech Rehearsal
TECH REHEARSAL
SANG-HOON — SEOUL
The first thing I noticed was how normal everything felt.
Wardrobe cases lined the loading dock exactly where they’d always been.
Mina was setting up styling stations for each of the performers, and Du-ri was already arguing with a production assistant about the delivery of costumes.
Wan-suk had three makeup stations set up beneath bright mirrors, muttering that somebody had borrowed her favorite foundation brush again.
For the first time since S?o Paulo, I found myself smiling.
“You’re late,” Mina called without looking up from a sequined jacket that Min-kyu wore in the second set.
It looked like the sleeve had come loose and she was hand-sewing it back together.
Technically that should have been Du-ri’s responsibility, but clearly she was busy with the production assistant.
I checked my watch. “Three minutes.”
She shrugged. “Still late.”
Wan-suk stopped obsessively organizing makeup remover on a table to ask, “How’s our patient?”
“I’m fine.”
“So, stubborn.”
I smiled and bowed. “Completely.”
“Good. I’d have been worried if you started listening to doctors.”
We all laughed, and the sound surprised me. For a few moments, we weren’t survivors of a series of terrible actions. We were simply a tour crew getting ready for another concert.
Sun-hee-noona appeared in the doorway of the prep area. “Sang-hoon, they need you upstairs.” While the crew finished putting all the stage modifications in place, the five members of Pryzm were in a private box overlooking the stadium, preparing for another press conference.
“Let me get a makeup kit.”
“Not to clean up the group. Eun-ji wants you there to answer questions.”
“You’re the man of the hour,” Mina called. “Stylist super-hero!”
I shook my head. “They don’t want me.”
“Hundreds of fans have been spreading your photo across social media,” Sun-hee-noona said drily. “If you think the press won’t have questions you haven’t been paying attention to media interviews for the last five years.”
I followed her upstairs. Jin and the other members were seated on chairs with their back to the windows overlooking the stadium. Jin was in the center, of course, and there was a sixth chair where Grace usually sat to translate any questions or responses.
Seeing it there caught me off guard.
Grace had translated interviews, smoothed over cultural misunderstandings, and rescued us from more awkward conversations than I could count. Somewhere on the tour she’d become one of us. All the while planning to hurt or sabotage us. I couldn’t understand that.
At least we wouldn’t need an interpreter. Every interview on today’s schedule would be in Korean. Still... I missed her.
I moved toward that empty seat and Eun-ji stopped me. “No, we need to move that chair,” she said. “Everyone shift so Sang-hoon can sit next to Jin.”
“No,” I said. “I’m not a performer. I certainly don’t belong next to the center.”
“Get used to it,” she said. “Now pick up that chair and move it next to your boyfriend.”
The name stunned me. It was the first public acknowledgement of our relationship, even though it was only to the group—and they already knew.
I was still in a daze as I moved the chair next to Jin and sat down. He squeezed my hand briefly and then Eun-ji opened the door to let the press in.
At first every question was aimed at Jin or me, about our relationship. How had it begun? How long ago? How did it feel?
Jin answered most of the questions. How we had been attracted to each other since that fateful meeting when we were both novices. The way we’d both held back because of the fraternization clause in our contracts and a concern over how the fans would feel.
“What changed?” a woman in a red and white striped miniskirt asked.
“When the fireworks misfired in Cannes,” Jin said. “And Sang-hoon rescued me.”
I shook my head. “It was after that,” I said. “Jin was in the bathroom taking a shower and one of our security staff quizzed me. Why had I done that? I admitted that I was in love with Jin and my instinct was to protect him.”
“I overheard him,” Jin added. “And for the first time in five years we had an honest conversation.”
The media loved the emotional honesty of it. “A meet cute out of a romance novel,” the woman in the striped skirt said.
Finally the questions shifted to the concert Tuesday night. Did Pryzm have anything special planned for the fans? How did it feel to be ending the tour in front of a hometown crowd?
“My whole career I have worked to make my parents proud of me, and to thank them for all the sacrifices they made to get me here. Tomorrow night they will be in the audience, and that makes this a very special concert,” Jin said.
Once again, the media loved his response.
We weren’t the only ones who spoke; they had questions for each of us.
How did Haneul feel being the oldest member?
How was Tae’s injury? What was Woo’s favorite food on the tour?
He told them about how he and Min-kyu had discovered sweet pizzas in S?o Paulo.
“Chocolate with strawberries,” he said. “Banana with cinnamon and condensed milk. Nutella with sliced banana. We need sweet pizza in Korea!”
The press laughed, and Eun-ji stood. “The idols have a big tech rehearsal today. If you need more media credentials for the concert tomorrow, please let me know.”
When I walked downstairs on my own, my badge was checked at every doorway. I saw a police officer with a dog sniffing the hallways. When I finally reached backstage, Aidan was there speaking quietly into an earpiece.
And it hit me. This wasn’t just our showpiece concert, the conclusion of our world tour. It was a chance for Sara Yoon to do something to hurt the group, or anyone in the audience, including my parents, Jin’s parents, and the friends and family of everyone on the tour.
We’d all learned a new definition of normal.
I stood in the wings as the group went through the tech rehearsal, and of course there were small problems, but each one was resolved quickly. Then the members hurried back to the dressing rooms to shower and change.
Before I followed them, I stepped onto the stage. I still didn’t feel like a performer, despite my presence at the press conference. I wondered what it felt like to step out there, in the glare of the lights, all those fans cheering.
But right then, the stadium was empty. Fifty thousand empty seats disappeared into the evening dusk. I tried to imagine every one of them filled tomorrow. But instead, I imagined the silence after a gunshot or an explosion.
I hated myself for thinking that way. Before Cannes, the worst thing I could imagine was a wardrobe malfunction, a missed cue, maybe a minor injury.
I hurried downstairs, showing my badge again twice, and then laid out Jin’s clothes. When he came out of the shower, he started to get dressed. “You were great out there,” I said. “Like always.”
“The center stage is shorter than in S?o Paulo,” he said. “It messed up the choreography until we adjusted. And Woo missed a cue in My Lover from the North. Probably imagining how many girls will want his autograph.”
We made our way to the bus to the hotel. The bomb dog had already sniffed the area, and Aidan and Liam stood by the door checking us all in. “Where’s Woo?” Aidan asked as we lined up.
Jin looked at Min-kyu. “Wasn’t he with you?”
“Maybe he went to the bathroom,” Tae suggested.
“There was a very pretty girl in a catering uniform at the last door,” Haneul said.
I felt the fear gripping the group. What if that pretty girl had been one of Sara Yoon’s operatives? Had she taken Woo hostage?
Then he burst out of the door and rushed toward the bus. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, bowing to everyone.
Was I the only one who noticed the lipstick smudge on his cheek? Probably not, but no one said anything.