Chapter 28
“Jungwoo has an offer from Emerald?”
Jiyeon sat for a moment and considered this news. Hiding with her in the kitchen at Wanna Waffle, Eunjae worked on a stack of waffles, his late dinner after a day of driving brothers around like a taxi. He said, “They want hyung to stay. Nicky found out somehow, so the usual stuff happened.”
“Oh, sure. The usual blackmail. Very normal.”
“Very normal. Very Nicky.”
An hour after closing, the shop felt like an isolated bubble, a vessel set adrift.
The shades were drawn, the doors locked.
Jiyeon took up some silverware rolled into a napkin, one of many such bundles she’d been assembling when Eunjae and Denny arrived.
She unwrapped a fork and had a bite of waffle, too.
Pioneered by Jeannie, this was a new addition to the menu, mochi instead of their signature buttermilk.
She liked it. Hopefully they’d have customers who felt the same way.
Eunjae sipped from his water glass. He’d need a trim soon, she thought to herself, absently. Apollo had a wedding to attend next weekend. She’d better get to it within the next few days. “He didn’t want to tell me,” she heard him say. “Worried I’d be mad.”
“Are you mad?” she asked. He shook his head, because of course he wasn’t.
“This is what he’s always wanted. Jungwoo picked Emerald because they encourage their groups to self-produce, and because of Haewon-noona. He wanted to learn from her. I know he still does.”
Jiyeon understood that Haewon was the other half of the duo behind Emerald’s founding.
A gifted songwriter and producer, she was the genius behind nearly every hit song released by her former girl group, Jewell.
Years of going uncredited had spurred Haewon to help establish a company that favored strong lyricists and composers. The industry regarded her as a legend.
Cautiously, Jiyeon voiced the concern weighing heaviest on her mind. “Eunjae, what if he accepts? What would that mean for the rest of you?”
“I don’t think Zenith will like it. The original deal was for nine members.”
“Could Jungwoo work as a producer and just sign a separate contract to perform with Apollo?”
He sat back, pensive. “It’s possible. I guess it would depend on how hyung negotiated the contract.
The problem is that our songs are written and produced by Jungwoo, mostly, with some help from other people in-house.
If we wanted to keep using his songs, Zenith would have to license them from Emerald. They’d own the rights.”
“And you’d want to use his songs, of course.” Without him, Apollo would have a different sound. “So your new agency would have to pay, or give you songs by someone else.”
“Yeah,” Eunjae replied, sadly. “If Zenith offered him a producer deal, he’d probably take it just to stay with us, but we’re slowing down.
This is our tenth year coming up. Apollo won’t be releasing songs very often, not with hyungs enlisting.
Jungwoo’s writing for new groups at Emerald.
There’s more demand for his work, more creative freedom. ”
He lapsed into silence, as he was wont to do after speaking so much. Jiyeon let him be. Painful choices loomed ahead, choices between growth and stagnation, loyalty and independence. There would be sacrifices regardless of the path they chose.
Jeannie strolled in, finished with the last of her closing duties in the dining room.
Sensing the somber mood, she fished around in her apron pockets for some soda candy and dropped a few pieces on the table.
“This isn’t a breakup, right? You’re okay, Ryan, but if she says it’s over then you’ll need to choke on that candy. House rules.”
“Oh, goodness.”
“Ah, no. It’s not over.” But then Eunjae set his fork down with a clang. He looked up at Jiyeon, suddenly mortified. “Wait. You should break up with me. I didn’t even ask how it went today. Sorry, I know I keep doing that.”
“How it went with what?” Jeannie asked. “And by the way, could you quit shoving Arthur into lakes when I’m not there to watch?”
It was Jiyeon’s turn to apologize. She promised to wait for Jeannie next time, then summarized the meeting with Prism.
As he listened, Eunjae’s mortification intensified.
They were forcing her to take tours? Even worse, it was his mother’s idea?
No, this wasn’t right. He’d go back and read Jiyeon’s contract again.
He’d find a way to get Leila on a plane and out of this country.
“Don’t send her away just yet,” Jiyeon replied. “I need her to come with me.”
“Yeon-ah.”
“I mean it. Trust me on this.”
A chuckle from Jeannie. “Gonna grill her, huh?”
“You bet I’m grilling her. What if she knows how to find Vivian?”
“I’ll ask, then,” said Eunjae. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
“It’s fine. If Leila’s messing with me, then she has less time to mess with you.”
“Messing with you is exactly how she messes with me,” he argued. “She knows it. She’s figured out that it’s the best way to upset me, when she won’t fight me directly, when she goes for you or Ezra instead.”
Scooting out the door, Jeannie whined that she was bluffing, they could never break up, she’d never be okay again if that happened. Meanwhile, Jiyeon’s parents returned from the evening grocery run. Denny strode in behind them, carrying Lowell’s bags, arguing with their father.
They sounded like a pair of thunderstorms dueling for supremacy. Joey defended his choice to decorate the dining room with life-size cardboard cutouts of Apollo, sent by Prism earlier in the week. Denny wanted these removed, pulped, and recycled into something functional. Napkins, for example.
“We need napkins. We don’t need effigies of Ryan and his associates.”
“Effigies,” murmured Eunjae.
“You heard him.”
They got up to help, unloading egg cartons and orange juice, milk jugs and whipped cream.
Starting this week, Wanna Waffle would be open on Mondays again.
It was the only way to ensure that regular patrons could continue to reserve tables for their bingo nights and committee meetings.
Every other day brought a deluge of Apollo fans, leading to long lines and a dire shortage of space.
Prism loved it, the agencies loved it, and the production loved it even more.
Interest in the show kept soaring to new heights.
Business was better than ever, but at a price.
They got the groceries stowed in record time.
True to form, Denny cast about for something more to do.
The group’s hectic schedule meant that he wouldn’t be back to Wanna Waffle for almost two weeks.
“If nothing else, this latest round of shenanigans kept Eric distracted for a while. He almost forgot to ship the merch for that event he wants us to host.”
“Sorry, Den. I’ll talk to them again.”
“Don’t worry about it. This will be over soon enough.”
The lights clicked off. Denny and Joey resumed their squabble in the twilight, the argument going strong right up until the former left in his SUV. That was when Lizzie came to Eunjae with an envelope. “How’s little brother? Having fun? Good actor?”
“Well,” said Eunjae. “Better than me.”
Jiyeon pointed at the letter. “Does everybody have a pen pal? Am I the only one who doesn’t?”
“Yes, yes. Give it to Ezra. When he was here, we talked about Jane, yeah? Her letters. Writing letters all the time, that lady.”
“Jane. Ah, you mean Janie? In Spain?”
“No,” said Jiyeon, passing him the car keys. “Jane Austen. They’re on a first name basis.”
“Makes sense.” He slid the letter into his pocket, taking care not to bend it. “Thanks for writing to him. You didn’t need to do that when you’re so busy here.”
“He wrote to me first! Of course I’m writing back!
” Lizzie explained that they’d received a thank you note from Ezra, mailed out from Monroe weeks ago, but the shop was indeed very busy.
She’d taken forever to write her reply. “Likes to write letters. Told me they have no phones at school except weekends. Computers just for class, homework, that kind of thing. So, the kids write to each other instead. Sent you a card for your birthday, didn’t he? That’s a very sweet boy, same as you.”
Eunjae went quiet again, waiting while Jiyeon locked the shop’s back door. She didn’t know it at the time, but they were both mulling over this new detail about Ezra, and her mother’s words as well. That’s a very sweet boy, same as you.
It was long past sundown. The city had stripped the palm trees on the boulevard, preparing to install lights for the coming holiday season, so the darkness was more complete than usual.
“Yeon-ah.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m leaving for that wedding next Thursday. I know it’s short notice, but would you come with me?”
At first, Jiyeon thought she’d misheard. “To Tokyo? I don’t have an invitation. And what about Eric?”
“He’ll have a lot to say, like he did about Max bringing Hazel. No media coverage allowed, though, and Zu’s family takes the security really seriously. Not that Prism could stop us from attending as private citizens. Here, you do have an invitation.”
He showed it to her, attached to an email. Kazu’s cousin had even written a note, addressed to Jiyeon and scrawled elegantly on monogrammed stationery. Faster than the post, it read. Won’t you please join us? At the bottom, she’d signed it ‘Mika’ as though they were old friends.
Eunjae turned to her in the dark, Ezra’s letter crinkling in the pocket of his coat.
Softly, he said, “Taking your girlfriend to a wedding… that’s a normal thing, isn’t it?
I’ve had to say no to a lot of those. But this time won’t come again, we’ve only got right now, so I want to try. I want to be there with you.”
Normal things. So sharp was her longing in that moment, so boundless and deep, that it left no room for any other thought. “I’ll go,” she told him. It was an easy answer to give.
“You will?”
“I will.” She laughed. Why did he look so shocked? “I don’t have a dress. I’ll have to find one.”
He raked a hand through his hair, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t even think about that part. Is it too late? What can I do?”
“Eunjae. You asked me to a wedding and now you’re apologizing for it?”
“I am.” Now they were both laughing. Switching languages, he said, “I sincerely apologize for causing concern. I requested your company at a formal event without considering the inconvenience this might cause. I will reflect deeply and take responsibility for my actions. Please continue watching over me with warmth and kindness.”
“You should ask Eric for a job. Senior Apology Composer. Lead Atonement Officer.” And she could’ve come up with more, but she kissed him instead.
He was right. They only had right now. This time wouldn’t come again.