Chapter 10
Apollo’s arrival in Bangkok unfolded in the usual dizzying blur.
Eunjae waved mechanically as security staff herded them past a legion of Sunshines bearing gifts and handmade signs.
Then he took refuge in the minibus waiting on the curb, ears ringing, assailed by flashing cameras.
While their driver navigated a gauntlet of vibrant, bustling city blocks, Eunjae kept both eyes glued to his phone.
How many times had he read and reread these texts from Jiyeon?
Ezra’s here, the first one said. But how could his brother be there? Why?
He needed to call her. First, though, Eunjae had to talk to Ezra.
He’d do it as soon as he made it off the bus and into his hotel room.
Each additional second spent in traffic felt excruciating.
He tensed every time someone honked a horn or roared past them in a thick cloud of exhaust. Max shot him several glances from across the aisle, curiosity morphing into open concern.
Denny looked over just once. Judging from his expression, he'd gotten the same news.
Gridlock slowed their progress to a glacial crawl.
Eunjae dispatched a terse email to his father and triple-checked the Blackridge academic calendar.
Meanwhile, the delays just kept rolling in.
Their destination was mired in chaos, fans clogging every pathway to the main entrance.
Multiple idol groups like Apollo were staying at this hotel, and although it wasn't supposed to be a known fact among anyone's fans, word had gotten out long before the planes touched down.
It seemed as though decades elapsed before things settled down and the room keys were doled out at last.
Eunjae practically sprinted out of the lobby. “Ya, slow down,” Kazu admonished him. “What’s gotten into this kid?”
“We’re supposed to take the stairs to the service elevator on the fifth floor,” said Kei, hooking a finger in Eunjae’s collar and reeling him back in. “Evasive maneuvers. Weren’t you listening when the Captain gave orders?”
“Sorry. I’m just… I have to make a call. It’s important.”
Kazu jumped to conclusions immediately. “Yikes. Young love.”
“Don’t smile like that. Creep!”
“What? I think it’s cute!” But then the mood collapsed. “Ari’s headed home soon. I’m glad he gets to stay there longer than I do.” Kazu’s voice wobbled. “My mom—”
Jungwoo interrupted this gloom-filled speech. “Watch out. Kei’s little fan club is in the building. They’re dancing backup for Athena’s stage tomorrow night.”
Squinting at the teenagers headed their way, Eunjae thought back to some announcements made by Emerald last month. The agency had named the trainees who would debut next year, in the wake of Apollo’s departure. “They’ll be in one of the new groups, right?”
“Yeah, and they're in love with Keiichi. He’s oblivious, of course.”
Kei turned his head sharply to the right, catching his admirers off guard.
The girls shrieked in unison. Then they spiraled into a bout of frantic greetings, bowing to their seniors as etiquette required.
The one with the most composure managed to thank Jungwoo for a song he’d written for their EP.
“We really hope they’ll let us have that one,” she said, pointedly making eye contact with everyone except Kei.
“Could you please tell Max-oppa that I have an idea for the English part?”
“Lucie, he went up the stairs before we did. Why didn’t you just tell him then?”
“We don’t talk to oppa outside the studio.”
“His girlfriend’s too scary,” came the unanimous verdict. “We don’t want her to get the wrong idea.” And then the trainees excused themselves, scurrying away like their lives depended on it.
“Why couldn’t you be girls?” Kazu complained. “I’d rather have daughters. And what’s wrong with you, Keiichi? Try smiling next time. It won’t kill you.”
Kei’s expression made it clear that giving out smiles for free was a ludicrous concept, off-camera and outside of work hours. This earned him a scolding that lasted all the way up to the tenth floor.
Eunjae stopped in front of his own room, key card in hand. Even the highest-quality soundproofing often proved no match for the sheer decibel range of Denny’s voice; he could hear him in there, deep in conversation.
“Look, that’s up to Yeonnie,” he was saying in Korean, as Eunjae crept inside.
“Obviously I’d be happier if she didn’t.
” He paused to glare at the fancy leather office chair parked at a desk in the corner.
It was the kind that swiveled, rolled, and reclined to a hazardous angle.
Eunjae expected to find Denny with a screwdriver and four sets of confiscated wheels by tonight at dinner.
But that part about Jiyeon… he had to hurry and talk to Ezra. Then he’d call her right after.
He maneuvered his suitcase through the narrow entryway. Denny paced to the window, every step producing a faint tremor. “What? Yeah, of course it’ll be okay. It’s one bad review. That’s not enough to tank the whole restaurant.”
At this point, they both heard a theatrical gasp from Jesse in the hallway. “Ohhhhh my gooossshhh. It leaked already? Is it hyung’s fault?”
“I resent that,” said Nicky. “I've been a perfect angel. I could've gotten Jungwoo to board the wrong plane two different times and I totally didn't. Ask the Chief, he can vouch for me.”
“Aww, Jungwoo could've gone on an adventure!”
“Jungwoo can go straight to hell,” grumbled Max. “Hyung, are you okay in there? You looked all weird on the bus.”
Denny threw the deadbolt. “Alright, keep it moving, Lee. You could go a full hour without Ryan if you put some real effort into it.” Then, as Max argued through the door, he motioned for Eunjae to get going.
The room had balcony access, so he tiptoed out there, wincing at the immediate blare of traffic from the streets below.
He had Ezra’s phone number but couldn't remember the last time they'd actually talked.
Christmas, maybe, a year or two ago. Eunjae did the math again, puzzling out time zones.
They'd flown out from Brisbane, since Ezra spent school holidays with Simon.
Would his brother be awake if he called right now?
But he was just stalling, delaying an uncomfortable task.
Bewildered as he was by Ezra’s actions, and as vital as it was to learn the motivation behind them, this wasn't a conversation Eunjae wanted to have.
It was difficult to avoid blaming himself for what felt like the dozens of different ways he'd fallen short.
Why was this the first time they'd be speaking to each other in so long?
Why hadn't Eunjae done a better job of keeping up with his brother, of reaching out more frequently? He was older. He should’ve taken the initiative.
He thought he knew what to expect, and what he'd say, when his brother picked up. But Ezra’s voice came down the line and it was no longer the high, piping voice of a child; it didn't match Eunjae's memories whatsoever.
He gripped the balcony rail, stunned by this revelation.
He'd listened to his own voice on enough occasions to realize that they sounded very much alike. His brother, his echo.
An echo, but only in the most superficial sense. Ezra had words of his own.
“I tried to ask when you’d be in LA. You didn’t write me back. It’s not my fault you won’t talk to Mum or Dad, either. We’re supposed to be your family and you don’t tell us anything. They didn't even know you have a girlfriend.”
Eunjae had plenty of reasons for not talking to his parents, and now he knew exactly how Leila found out about Jiyeon, but this was hardly the time discuss either topic.
“Look, I’ve had a lot of things come up over the past week.
I’m sorry I didn’t reply. It doesn’t change that you showed up out of the blue.
Why? Are you in trouble? Do you need something? ”
“I can’t come visit you unless I’m in trouble or I need something?”
“No, that’s not what I said—”
“I guess Mum was right. She said you’d be mad, and you are.”
“Ezra, I’m not—”
But his brother was gone. He’d ended the call.