Chapter 36
Prism sent Erin to the airport with Jiyeon, but it didn't stop there. Tickets had been purchased for both of them. The only saving grace was that the seats were on opposite ends of the plane.
Between bouts of fitful slumber, Jiyeon flicked through photos.
She made note of which repairs they'd be able to tackle on their own and which would need to be outsourced.
She tried to remember if they had paint left over from last spring, if the paint chips were at the shop or at Ivy Lane, if there might be flooring samples stashed in the Wanna Waffle pantry.
Jiyeon couldn't hold on to any of it, though.
And she didn't have the heart to come back to that picture of the door.
If she kept allowing herself to skip it, she'd never be able to assess the damage.
Denny had to stay behind, so it was Jiyeon who should handle this.
She knew, and she wanted to be doing it, to lose herself in the work.
Things needed fixing. She was good at that.
But there was so much noise in her head, an unending discordant clash of new thoughts coming in and old worries rising to the surface.
On that long flight, even her silenced phone managed to seem loud.
Erin wasted no time upon landing. From the second they deplaned, she launched into a play-by-play of Prism’s agenda. The only time Jiyeon got a break was when they were separated at immigration and then again at customs.
“You'll have a late start tomorrow,” she said, so magnanimous, “to recover from all the travel and the crazy things you've been dealing with. That sounds good, right? You deserve some rest. Don't worry about your café. We’ve advised Emerald to send a cleaning crew this week, on behalf of Apollo.”
On behalf of Apollo. Did the guys have anything to do with it at all? Were they even aware that the agency made this gesture in their name?
“We don't need help from Emerald,” Jiyeon said.
Erin paid her no mind. They'd cleared customs by then, and all that remained was to catch a ride out of the airport.
She typed as they walked, leading Jiyeon to assume she was arranging a taxi or a shuttle, but no.
A lengthy email swooped into her inbox. Erin had spent the flight industriously composing a novel-length schedule overview for Emma Han.
“I've got three tours lined up for you on Tuesday, then two more on Wednesday, with some meetings here and there. I bet you'll have a favorite picked out by Friday!”
“Erin, I need to be at the shop. I can't be out on tours while my parents try to fix this mess by themselves. We'll have to be closed for almost a week, as it is.”
Firmly, Erin replied, “Oh, no. I'd say about three days at the most. The cleaners will come through and have you guys operational in no time.”
“I said we don't want—”
“Miss Han, the fans will be disappointed if Apollo doesn't make amends in some way. They'll expect the boys to pitch in. Not directly, of course. That's out of the question. But this is almost the same thing! And I'm sure you don't want to make it seem like your family is resentful in any way.”
Resentful? And what about the damage to the restaurant? Prism seemed devoted to glossing right over it, as though Jiyeon's family didn't depend on their business for bills and rent and groceries.
“It isn't safe for the group to show up in person. That would be a very risky thing to do right now.” Erin indicated that they should head to passenger pickup.
She babbled all the way there. “We've decided the best course of action is to diminish Apollo’s ties to this waffle place of yours, now that filming is almost over.
There will be some renewed interest when the show drops in January, but we'll tackle that later on.”
The signal improved and delayed messages stacked up on Jiyeon's screen. Seeing that so many were from Eunjae, her mood lifted considerably. But then Erin went on to say, “Apollo’s done a lot for you and your family. The easiest way to repay them is by sticking to the story we’re putting out there.
It’s the story that puts the boys in the best possible light.
So just go on these tours, keep your head down, and avoid giving Sunshines something else to gossip about. Okay?”
They reached the exit, where Arthur was waiting. Well, of course. “Coming with us, Erin?” Jiyeon asked, bitterly. “What if I refuse to get in the car? That might look bad for Apollo.”
Arthur frowned. “Don’t hold it against her. She's just tired.”
“I understand completely! Of course she's tired! Too much excitement. That’s why I thought she might prefer a ride from a good friend. Let's chat tomorrow, Miss Han.”
The doors opened. A blast of fresh air met the climate-controlled atmosphere of the airport. Jiyeon went outside, fuming. “Drive safe, Arthur,” she said. “It's late.”
“You really won't get in the car? Come on, Emmie.”
“I can get myself home. You've done what they asked, so just let me go. I'm not heading straight to my parents, anyway.”
“I don't care. I'll take you, it's fine.”
“No. Goodnight, Arthur.”
He latched on to the handle of her suitcase. “That mess at the restaurant… I hate that it happened. My family’s been really sad to hear about it. They wanted me to tell you.”
“Okay. Thanks for that.”
“But I'm not surprised, Emms,” he continued. “Are you? I mean, shouldn't you expect this kind of thing to go down when you're connected to people like them?”
Flatly, she said, “People like them.”
“Apollo. Famous people. Whatever you want to say.” He let go of the handle. “No one even knows you're dating Ari, or at least not yet, and this is how it turned out. If you're caught, it could be worse. This might happen again. You should let me help you.”
Jiyeon held his gaze for a long moment. “If you want to help me, stay away. If you ever loved me, if you still want to be my friend, give me a break. Please, Arthur.”
She called for a rideshare and left him there, rolling her suitcase to the designated area. Her brain rebelled at the idea of calculating the time difference between herself and Eunjae. Still, she replied to everything he'd sent.
In the car, Jiyeon tried to decide if she was disappointed or relieved when he didn't send any messages back. She suspected he'd call if he was able. If he did, she'd start sobbing in the back seat of this nice lady's sedan.
At the end of the ride, the driver eyed Jiyeon's destination with concern. “You sure this is it, honey? Looks like it's closed.”
“This is it.”
“Got somebody meeting you here? I can stick around. You shouldn't wait alone.”
“I'll be okay,” said Jiyeon, touched by her kindness. “It's my family's restaurant. I have the keys. Just need to check on something, and then I'll call my dad. He'll come get me.”
She had to see it for herself. Maybe she'd expended the bulk of her courage on entering the address in the app, forcing herself to go to the shop instead of running home, climbing into bed, sobbing in the dark.
She'd typed it in, though. She'd confirmed her destination without allowing time to second guess, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
Wanna Waffle had been closed since the disaster on Saturday. When was the last time they closed for that long? It had to be those days in June, when Apollo met their fans in this same parking lot and announced that they were free.
Jiyeon managed one step, then another. She followed the sidewalk and turned the corner. The parking lot blurred, the night dissolving into vague shapes and pools of shadow, street lights bleeding into the glow of distant stars. She buried her face in both hands and cried.
The door wasn't always orange. Purchased at an estate sale, it came to them without hinges, coated in a thick layer of dust. Jiyeon loved it, thinking at the time that she'd save it for her own place.
When she realized Wanna Waffle needed something special, a memorable and unique detail, the plan changed.
Most of the family was baffled by her fixation on the door.
Why did they need to replace the one they had?
It worked fine. Her sister came along, though, to wrangle it into the truck they borrowed from Jeannie’s uncle.
They brought Denny with them to buy paint.
Janie insisted on the most garish shade of aqua, and their little brother demanded to know why it couldn't just be ‘door-colored.’
Orange. The color she'd chosen for that house she drew in middle school, a color that was bright and happy, evoking warmth in any season.
There wouldn't be another door like it on the boulevard.
Jiyeon knew that this could draw the eye and make you pause, the way a post could stop you from scrolling, and that was what she wanted.
The door was part of her campaign to make the shop feel less like a restaurant and more like a second home.
People would come, then. People would stay.
Jiyeon reached out to touch the broken panes of glass, covered with plastic sheets that rippled under her fingertips.
The damage wasn't beyond repair. Wanna Waffle would open again, looking better than before.
But was this the place where Jiyeon should be?
Did the sight of this hurt so much because her heart was here, right here, and she'd been chasing the wrong dream for years and years?
What if this had been the dream all along?