삼
NIKKO
T he chaos finally simmers down once everyone has grabbed everything they want—at least for now. It’s not like we won’t sneak bites off each other’s plates or steal the last servings of things when we think no one is looking. But for the moment, everyone is happily slurping their japchae and bulgogi and it’s fairly peaceful.
Even as rowdy as mealtimes can still be, it’s nothing compared to the way it was when we were trainees in our first dorm. The urgency of not knowing when we would have a break for our next meal made us all vicious, ready to fight for every scrap. Chita, Lalo, and Ryo spent as much of their time trying to keep us from stabbing each other with our flying chopsticks and making sure servings were basically equal as they did actually getting to eat anything.
Now, our gatherings around the table are more the general mayhem of six 20-something guys whose manners with each other have become questionable over the time we have been together. We’re like a family now, for better or worse, and it’s easy to let some of those things slip every now and then. Especially when we’re home in Seoul again for a little while, on a break from our tour schedule between our dates in Asia and before we visit Europe and the United States.
The quiet does not last long, though—only until Tang’s phone buzzes with a notification from some American baseball app he has downloaded, and he starts talking animatedly about what it means for some of the teams he follows. I assume most of us could probably name one of two of them if we had to, but likely not unless we were forced. Lux, who has the lowest tolerance for sports talk, cuts him off after a few minutes, interjecting that he has just recently seen news that one of his favorite books—another dystopian romance—is about to be adapted into a movie.
“Jase told me about that,” I say, turning to look at Lux, just realizing I’d forgotten to mention it to him after our conversation the other day.
I know I have made a mistake almost immediately, with the way the room goes entirely silent and all movement stops.
“Tang-ah, how long was that?” Ryo-hyung asks, slowly setting his chopsticks in the bowl in front of him.
Making a big show of checking his Rolex, Tang-hyung announces, “Nearly 12 minutes.”
Chita-hyung cocks his head. “Is that a new record?”
“Nope. That’s still at nine minutes,” Lux says between bites.
I look between the five pairs of eyes all staring in my direction. “What? What did I do?”
Ryo stands at his chair, like he’s about to give a speech, but instead adopts a sort of far-away expression, and sighs, “ Jase told me .”
“Jase said this. And Jase mentioned that. Jase has the cutest dog. Jase wore a blue shirt today that matched his eyes. I’m going to watch this show Jase told me about. Sorry, I can’t go with you, I have a call with Jase tonight,” Tang teases in what I assume is supposed to be an imitation of my voice.
A wave of embarrassment washes over me and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
Ryo notices immediately, clapping with delight. “Look at that blush!”
Chita elbows him, gazing at me fondly. “Awww, our baby is growing up!”
“Excuse me. I’m the baby around here,” Lux pouts. As much as he complains about being the youngest, he never hesitates using it to his advantage.
“Oh, we know,” Lalo-hyung jokes, jumping in for the first time. I know he’ll try to turn the conversation and attention away from me. “You never let us forget it.”
I caught the soft glance he had given me as they started to make fun of me. Lalo has always been the one who understands me best and has the most accurate gauge on my emotions.
“This isn’t about me. This is about Nikko and his huge crush on Jase.” Lux raises his eyebrow at me, all but daring me to try to deny it. And that traitor calls himself my best friend.
“I do not have a crush on Jase,” I mumble, as though saying it out loud will somehow make it true.
Ryo gasps, offended. He makes a sweeping gesture across the table. “You would sit here, in front of this food that I have slaved away to prepare for you, and lie? To me? To us? To your brothers ?”
“Who let him watch The Godfather again?” Lalo groans. “You all know the rules.”
Tang considers for a moment. “That feels more like Scarface to me?”
“Family is built on trust!” Ryo bellows, grabbing a serving spoon to brandish as he carries on.
Chita drops his head into his hands, like he still somehow can’t believe this is his life. Like this kind of scene hasn’t happened in this very kitchen—or the green room of venues all over the world—a thousand times before. “Can we just finish dinner?” he asks, his voice muffled against his palms.
“Not until we talk about how Nikko can’t not mention Jase all the time,” Lux insists.
“I don’t talk about him all the time.” Another lie. I know I do. I know I bring him up at every opportunity because he’s always on my mind. His presence in my thoughts continually surprises me. There has never been anyone like that for me before, not like this.
The time that I get to spend with him, even through the screen of my computer, has become something special to me. There’s a reason I lock the doors and hide away, protecting those calls from the other members. I’m not ready to share this—share him —with them.
But maybe I already have. Maybe I’ve given myself away more than I noticed. Or maybe these things I’ve been feeling are more obvious than I am willing to admit.
“Remember those wall sits Tang used to make us do when we screwed up the choreography? Where we put our backs against the wall and slid down like we were sitting on a chair, but we had to hold ourselves up on nothing but core strength that we didn’t have then?” Lux asks, everyone turning to look at him in confusion.
“God, yes, I have nightmares about that,” Ryo groans. “Don’t make me think about them again. I still have trauma.”
“Okay, but why?” Tang questions, as he gets up and walks to a wall, clearly wanting to see if he can still do it.
“I think we should bring them back,” Lux says, with a devious grin. “But just for Nikko, when he’s lying.”
I point a chopstick at him. “You are the worst. I am reconsidering our friendship, starting now.”
“Children,” Chita admonishes in his exasperated dad tone. “Tang, back to the table. Lux, stop picking on him. Nikko, your chopstick is not a weapon.”
Lux grumbles at his noodles while Tang takes his seat again and swipes a bite from Lalo’s plate, and I roll my eyes at everyone because they are ridiculous, but I love them.
Having a friend, getting to know someone outside of this life—this bubble that I live in—has been so refreshing and welcome for me. But that’s not all it is anymore. I don’t know if it ever was just that kind of connection. Especially now that we’ve looked at each other across all these miles and time zones and started talking about stuff that is real . I’m not only practicing another language with him; I’m learning about myself.
I’m shocked every day at the things I think about him. I find myself daydreaming about his lips and what it might be like to kiss them. I’m fascinated by the way he moves his hands, gesturing when he speaks, and imagine how it would feel to hold them or to have them grip my hips as he pulls me closer. I try not to let my mind wander farther than that, for fear I’d never be able to face him on screen again.
But then, he told me—said the words I had been hoping for— guys, boyfriend . Put an end to the guessing game I’d been playing with myself and made me feel brave enough to admit the same.
I trusted him with that information, and I believe he will keep my secret safe. But I also want him to know who I am, in my heart—away from the bright lights and screaming fans. I want him to know, without telling him the whole story, that if our lives were different, I’d want him to give me a chance.
For a moment, when he had looked at me a little longer, a little more intensely, I let myself believe that he would.