Chapter 46
Two Days Later
Eunjae paused to hide the sixteenth photo under Jiyeon’s windshield wiper. She’d find it later and smile.
The sky was a little lighter by the time he reached the low stone wall on the property's edge.
Beyond it was a view of the valley, scattered houses nestled into the slopes, and that telltale shimmer was Lake Monroe.
The landscape remained verdant, clinging to its faded greenery in open defiance of winter.
Jiyeon arrived soon enough, following the path from the main house, every footstep crackling softly upon frosted blades of grass. She'd brought a blanket large enough to wrap around both of them. “Out of coffee,” she murmured in apology. “We’ll have to wait ‘til later.”
“The diner coffee’s better, anyway,” Eunjae replied. She nodded, and they sat together in silence for a while as daybreak lit the horizon. A thin curl of smoke rose up from someone's chimney down in the valley. Curled up in his arms, Jiyeon said, “Almost done.”
He sighed. “Finally.”
Sunshine 24/7 had finished its seventh week of production.
The members of Apollo weren’t needed for the remaining shots, and most of the eighth week was for tearing down the set, so filming would wrap right before lunch.
They could be on the road by early afternoon.
Jiyeon had some errands to run, and Eunjae had apartments to tour.
Although it was technically a day of endings, it felt more like the convergence of so many things about to begin.
“Ready to meet Gloria and Angie?”
“Nervous. Hope they like me.”
Jiyeon laughed. “First the interrogation, then date night.”
“Date night,” he replied. “That’s normal.”
She didn’t answer, just tipped her face up for a kiss. This, too, was normal. An everyday luxury.
They’d both made an Olympic sport out of avoiding social media, and the Internet in general, since those posts went live on Wednesday.
Eunjae didn’t even read the statement from Emerald confirming that Apollo’s Ari and influencer Emma Han were ‘meeting with warm and hopeful feelings.’ He only knew the exact verbiage because Nicky turned the announcement into a skit at dinner…
and then again at every meal thereafter.
He did read the email from Haewon, signed by both of the agency’s founders but sent from her email address alone.
It contained their best wishes for his happiness, along with an offer of representation, since he’d opted not to sign with Zenith.
We hope that the terms are sufficiently transparent for you, they’d written at the bottom.
He could hear this line in Haewon’s brisk, sardonic voice.
Eunjae had expressed his thanks. Also, that he was on an indefinite hiatus. It was time to get some rest. Few sentences had ever been more satisfying to type.
“Find anything?” he asked Jiyeon, after a while. “Maybe we can go tomorrow.”
“Hmm. Sort of. I think there’s a place that might work out, but it’ll take a lot of renovation. Could be perfect if we knocked down some walls.”
Jiyeon listed potential improvements, plans for a bakery case, an airy space full of tables for game nights and studying and birthday parties.
She’d add more windows and carve out a small lounge, maybe a conference room for meetings.
“Not a restaurant,” she’d told him last night, eyes shining.
“More like a community center. I’ll call it Orange Door. ”
Plenty of people thought they knew what it was, to be proud of someone they loved. They’d have to work pretty hard to know the feeling better than Eunjae. He was sure of it.
The hour flew by. They parted ways at the cottage, then met again at the diner, just one more time. Although he’d considered himself ready to leave Monroe from the moment filming began, this final day on set still managed to taste bittersweet.
The day’s objective was simple: Apollo would work one more Friday morning shift, serving a celebratory pancake breakfast to family and friends. The producers were going for something easy and relaxed.
So much for that pipe dream. Jesse hurtled into the kitchen right out of the stylists’ trailer, wild-eyed, one sleeve of his pastel yellow pullover flapping behind him like a flag.
He’d spilled lemon water down the front.
Throwing himself at Eunjae, he proceeded to cling for dear life.
“It’s him! He’s here, he’s outside! Hide me, he’s the worst, he’s homicidal—”
“Could you stop yelling?” Kei snapped at him, ducking under the counter. “What if he hears you? Idiot!”
Max insisted on Jiyeon’s immediate evacuation. “Hyung, she can’t be in this building. He'll go straight for her.”
“Who?”
“A monster, noona. From the actual basement level of hell.”
He had a lot more to say on this subject, but Nicky interjected, grinning from ear to ear. “Ari, let her meet him at least once. Rite of passage.”
“Ah, no,” said Eunjae. Fleeing sounded like the correct response to this state of emergency. Jungwoo thought a barricade would work better. In complete disagreement, Kazu plundered the knife block, intent on arming himself to the teeth.
Realization dawned. “Sunny’s here,” said Jiyeon. “That’s why.”
Namgyu explained, lovingly, that she must never say this cursed name out loud. “It summons him. Haha!”
In truth, Eunjae should also be evacuated from the danger zone. As Nicky pointed out, torturing him was Sunny’s favorite way of torturing Max. “We’re dealing with a master of strategy,” he said, chuckling.
“Aww, but Hazel just got here! Wouldn’t S-U-N-N-Y attack her instead?”
“Good question, Gyu. Will he rank a fake, stolen girlfriend on the same level as a legit, ethically sourced girlfriend and adjust his target—”
“Shut the hell up, hyung!”
Jiyeon smiled. “Hazel’s here? I’ll go say hi.”
A set of swinging saloon doors separated the kitchen from the main part of the diner.
They were shorter than the frame, with gaps at the top and bottom, allowing sunlight and conversation to leak in from the adjacent room.
As Jiyeon raised her hand to push through, these gaps filled with sun rays.
Cuddly sun rays sewn from plush fabric, engineered for violence.
Eunjae’s life flashed before his eyes. He seized Jiyeon by the waist and hauled her out of Sunny’s range.
There wasn’t a second to spare; Apollo’s mascot was capable of frightening speed, defying its own unwieldy shape and less than aerodynamic design.
The creature came bursting over the threshold as Jesse wailed his head off, begging for rescue in six different languages.
Rescue came in the form of a massive hand, adept with a waffle iron but well-suited for pulverizing boulders as well.
Calloused fingers latched on to the intruder.
There was a popping noise, and then a hiss as pressure released from a hidden valve.
Miraculously, Sunny began to melt. His malicious, starry eyeballs became puddles of nylon.
The sun rays drooped like withered petals.
“Ridiculous,” said Denny, scowling at the deflated remains of Apollo’s mascot.
“How many times have I told you to keep your hands off my jester squad during work hours? This is a place of business. I’m running a combination diner and clown orphanage.
Have a little empathy for my situation.” Their manager yanked Sunny out of the kitchen.
“Heads up, Lee,” he bellowed over the triumphant whooping, shouting, and singing. “Your girlfriend found Trevor.”
“Oh, shit,” said Max.
Hazel perched on a bar stool next to Apollo’s publicist, legs crossed, twirling a butter knife. She lit up at the sight of Namgyu, but nothing could derail her focus. “Unnie, this is him?” she asked Jiyeon.
“Uh-huh. That’s Trevor.”
Electric blue nails drummed on the counter. Hazel narrowed her eyes. “He doesn’t even look like a goddamn Trevor.”
Eunjae wondered why Denny hadn’t confiscated this butter knife yet. The boss was usually so stringent about the weapons policy. Meanwhile, Max replied, “Told you. That can’t really be his name. It’s a lie.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m taking care of this. A fake name can’t save him.” Hazel let the knife drop, its blunt edge catching the light. “Said a lot of mean shit about me, didn’t you, Trevor?”
“It was for the narrative,” he said, fidgeting. “Please don’t take it personally, Miss Lim.”
“I take everything personally. And did you know I do a lot of my own stunts?”
“I… I did know that…”
“I’ve got fantastic fucking aim, too.”
“Right… the scene with the axe throwing…”
“It’s all in the wrist.” Hazel kicked his bar stool. “Sit up. This is a job interview.”
It was here that Max felt compelled to intervene. “Why?” he demanded. “What do you mean, a job interview? We just need him to release the rest of that footage—”
Wrapping her arms around him, Hazel crooned, "You're so pretty when you're mad at me. I deserve you." And then, while Max squirmed out of her grasp, she got back to Trevor. “Here’s what I think, Trevvie. I could kick your ass, but that would be over so fast, if we’re being honest. I think my manager’s right about it being a waste. You should have a better punishment.”
“A better punishment,” Trevor mumbled, faintly.
“Awww!”
“Yeah. You made me look so, so bad. You should have to make me look so, so good to make up for it. That should be your main job. Amazing idea, right?”
“How? How is that an amazing idea, this guy’s literally the ringleader of a fucking archvillain association—”
Hazel retorted that Max should stop pretending to be pretty and dumb.
She’d never known him to be dumb. In fact, he could stand to be a little dumber sometimes, like when he’d beaten her at Crossword Clash ten times in a row and she needed a goddamn morale boost. Could he be a little more sensitive, please?
Brothers chimed in with their unsolicited opinions, unable to contain themselves any longer. Kei unveiled his latest laundry list of reasons for hating it here. Then they all looked on in horror as Jungwoo made the mistake of saying, “Hazel, don’t. This is crazy.”
Max rounded on him. “Why the hell are you telling her what to do? Who do you think you are?”
“Right? Why don’t you fuck off, Jungwoo?”
Caught up in this whirling tempest, Eunjae missed it when Jiyeon quietly slipped away. She stood near the front windows with her brother, deep in discussion over something on Denny’s phone. But those were the tracks of tears on her face, he realized. She’d been crying. For how long?
His legs moved of their own accord. “What happened?” he asked, rushing to her side.
Ten different scenarios played out in his head like movie trailers, cinematic, complete with ominous soundtracks.
At least Eunjae could openly offer comfort now, right when she needed it, instead of having to hide how much he cared.
Up close, he saw that Jiyeon wasn’t upset. In fact, she couldn’t stop smiling. She showed him Denny’s screen.
“Eunjae, it’s Vivian. We found her.”