Chapter 34
Outside, rain slicked the city streets and sluiced into gutters, drumming on rooftops and umbrellas. But if you had enough money, weather was no obstacle. You could bring the night indoors, a perfect night with a clear sky, hung with constellations that burned more vividly than reality.
Eunjae had a lot of time to admire this artificial sky; the father of the bride had been sobbing off and on for the better part of the evening. He did a lot of his sobbing on Apollo’s Ari.
“Why did you sit there for so long?” scolded Kei. He fussed at the fabric of Eunjae’s jacket, declaring it to be a wool-mohair blend requiring meticulous care. “At least he did most of the crying on your shoulder. The suit’s holding up fine, but these lapels are faced with silk.”
Jiyeon observed this lecture from a nearby bench, catching her breath under a bower woven from branches and fairy lights.
She’d only just returned from a round on the dance floor with Namgyu.
Before that, it was Kazu. Now she leaned forward, phone up, camera rolling.
“So you’re saying that tear stains are permanent on silk? ” she asked Kei.
“Yes.”
“My mom owes you a hankie, then. You let her borrow yours when she cried about Kazu replacing all the chairs in our dining room.”
Kei took a break from pawing at the suit. This was a brother with a vast and varied repertoire of frowning faces, each bearing nuanced meanings; by Eunjae’s estimation, the current frown had shifted from irritated to thoughtful.
“Of course not,” he answered. “I told her to keep it.
I think of it like… silk holds on to memories.
Tears leave a mark that won't wash out. That happened in the summer, and when summer comes again, the memory will still be there. You’d want to keep that, wouldn't you? If you were crying good tears.”
Eunjae smiled. “I think those were good tears.”
“Oh, sure. She was really happy. We'd been wanting to replace the chairs forever.” Jiyeon smiled, too. “What a nice way to look at it. Hey, was this your dream? To be an idol?”
“An idol.” Kei’s thoughtful frown remained in place. “I wanted to sing, and I wanted to be good at it. I guess I dreamed of being the kind of performer people wouldn’t forget.”
Jiyeon had more questions for him, but Nicky strolled over, jacket missing, sleeves rolled just so. His tie was gone, too. “By request,” he said, when Kei switched to heckling him instead. “See those aunties over there? This is how they wanted me. The answer’s yes if you’ve got the cash.”
“Disgusting.”
Nicky grinned. “Now, here’s the situation. We’ve gone viral again thanks to ajumma’s last post, so the MV for Love Me, Leave Me just hit another milestone for views. Can’t remember how many millions we’re at now, but people have been watching for that scene. You know, with Zu and the desk?”
“Blech.”
“What was he doing on the desk?” Jiyeon glanced up at Eunjae. “Did you do something on a desk?”
“Ah, no.”
“Huh. Too bad.”
You’d never guess that it was supposed to be winter in this part of the ballroom. Why was it so warm?
“So,” said Nicky, clapping his hands together, “what I need is for Keiichi to have some more wine. Ari, make sure he drinks up. We’re borrowing Jiyeon for this dance challenge. I’ll team up with His Royal Highness while you get the video.”
“But she just filmed me!” came the inevitable protest. “Nobody else had to do two videos!”
“Hear me out. I took notes on Eric’s social media presentation, and it said the audience loves ‘moments of authenticity and vulnerability.’ You’re very authentic after some drinks. Now, since you hate the choreo for this song—”
“Because it’s embarrassing!”
“Yeah, so you’ll be feeling vulnerable. Boom, instant success.
I’m a genius.” Nicky helped Jiyeon to her feet, then twirled her so fast that she squeaked in surprise.
“And it won’t even take very long,” he added, twirling her again in the other direction.
“Thirty seconds, tops. Just the dance break. So easy.”
“Ah, it’s the hardest part of the dance…”
“Exactly. And Keiichi’s good at it, but I’m twice as good. We can’t lose.” Nicky caught Jiyeon by the waist. He pointed at the wineglass. “I don’t see you drinking, my son. You know you’ll need every drop to survive this.”
Kei declared, emphatically, just how much he hated it here. Waiting for the dizziness to pass, Jiyeon said, “I’m not sure I’ll survive this.”
“Quit, hyung. You’re spinning her around too much.”
Nicky responded by dipping his dance partner so low that the ends of her hair brushed the ballroom floor. “Why? Is it bugging you, Ari? Is this finally making you jealous? Because that’s my other mission in life, I’ll get a reaction if it’s the last thing I do—”
He froze. Jiyeon had her fingers curved around his cheek. “Stop bullying him,” she said, “or I’ll bully you back.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Nicky exclaimed, swinging her upright. “Watch it, ajumma. You can look, but don’t touch. That’s how you get invoiced.”
“Invoice me, then. I’m gonna go dance with Eunjae.”
She broke free and reached for his hand. A song began to play, one that Eunjae didn't know, and the lights dimmed to a watery blue. He checked his watch. “Actually, I thought we could leave early.”
It was Saturday here, but Friday at home.
Date night. Jiyeon’s eyes went wide with surprise, then delight.
She stepped closer, still holding on to his hand, cheeks flushed from dancing.
A long curl had come loose from the clasp at the nape of her neck.
Eunjae brushed it away absently. He wasn't thinking, and it was perhaps the most normal thing in the world, the most normal thing he'd ever done, because who could think in a moment like that one? She was beautiful. She was everything.
But then Nicky said, “Hey, no way. We’re all going out to eat after this. I busted my ass to get that reservation. Booked it three months ago.”
“What does he care? Hyung’s got a new life now. He’s been trying to leave us since June.”
“We know that’s the wine talking, Keiichi.”
“It’s okay,” said Jiyeon, squeezing Eunjae’s hand. “We can go with them. There will be other date nights.”
That was true, and the disappointment didn’t show on her face or in the tone of her voice, even though she must have felt it.
She’d grown so used to their plans being displaced, rearranged, set aside.
Eunjae couldn’t bear this. Apologizing to Nicky, he said, “I’m taking her out. We’ll skip dinner just this once.”
“Just this once? You’re moving to LA. When will we all be in Tokyo again?”
When will we all be here together, again? Everything keeps changing. What if we don’t get another chance? He didn’t need to say it. Eunjae knew what he meant.
Kei stared down at the tablecloth, running his fingers over the brocade. “Leave him alone, hyung. Let him get caught with a girl in the middle of the night. We’re done anyway, without Jungwoo. If he signs with Emerald—”
“He won’t.”
“You believe him when he says that? Remember when he dragged Ari back to Seoul, remember how he put the job first and his best friend second? I couldn’t blame him, then,” Kei admitted, “because all our jobs were on the line, not just his. But Jungwoo cares about Jungwoo. That’s what it taught me.”
Nicky went to pour a glass of water, his smile extinguished. He pressed it into their brother’s hand, removing the wine from easy reach, and that was when Denny cut in.
“We need to go,” he said. “Emergency. Eric’s waiting.”
There was something about the way he delivered this message that quelled any potential argument and smothered every question they might think to ask. Jiyeon felt for Eunjae’s hand again. Kei shot up right away, offering to find Namgyu, but Nicky barred his path.
“Seems like it’s bad news. Keiichi, stay here with Zu.” He looked to their manager, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod in response. “Don’t tell him about this. Give him another few hours to think nothing’s wrong.”
He was the eldest present. Kei would’ve obeyed regardless, but he went without arguing because they could agree on this, at least: Kazu should be able to enjoy his family tonight.
If it was possible to shield him from the storm a little longer, it was worth defying Prism’s orders.
Denny made Kei give up his phone, though. That was also part of Prism’s orders.
They hurried out of the ballroom and into a corridor steeped in shadow.
This part of the venue had been excluded from the night’s festivities by a black velvet rope.
Voices seeped out of the fourth door to the left, raised in anger.
Jungwoo and Hazel were locked in a tense exchange.
Max slouched against the opposite wall. With his shoulders hunched like that, he seemed far diminished from his true height. Hazel loomed larger, by contrast.
“Is it because you don't want to split the credit with him? Is that your problem?”
“Could you cut me some slack? I'm not the asshole you think I am.”
“I don't think you're an asshole,” Hazel replied. “I don't think of you at all. Not anymore. But if you're telling Max to skip this so that you can keep working with Emerald by yourself, I'll be thinking of you all the time. That's not a good thing. Pray that I'm never fucking thinking of you.”
“I’m not the one who told him to say no! He doesn’t want to go. He won’t leave Ari.”
Eunjae stared across the room at Max. What?
“How long will you guys keep this up? I can’t believe you’d stay together even when it’s holding you back.”
“I believe we’ve heard enough from you, Miss Lim.”
Max pushed off the wall. “Shut the hell up. Why are you talking to her like that?” Glaring at Eric, he said, “Keep my phone if you want, but you can’t make me stay here.”
And then he left with Hazel, wincing when Eunjae called his name. Max wouldn't even look at him.
Eric made no move to interfere. He came to greet the new arrivals, smiling his benign, stock photo smile.
“Hello, hello. I apologize for cutting your evening short like this. It’s not what anyone wanted.
” He waved Nicky and Eunjae inside, but prevented Jiyeon from following.
“This doesn’t concern you, Miss Han. Let me have your phone and Erin will walk you back to your room. ”
“It doesn’t concern me, but you’re taking my phone away? I feel like I’m owed an explanation, bottom line.”
Hazel turned back for a moment, eyes alight with molten rage. “Oh, it’s my fault, unnie. I did some normal girlfriend shit and posted that I was proud of Max. Who knew it would start a war?”