34. Chapter 34
The elevator doors had never shut more slowly in Eunjae’s life. They could hear Nami crying out for them to stop, to wait, and that was definitely Doyoung shouting orders to the building’s security team.
“They’ll be waiting for us at the bottom, now that he’s called for help,” said Jungwoo, punching the button for the fourth floor. That was just one floor below theirs. “I say we get out and take the stairs.”
“Yeah. The emergency exit would take us to the courtyard. We could take that back gate to the street, easy.”
Jungwoo’s phone buzzed with another message. He tapped out a reply as the elevator began its descent. “Kazu was already in the lobby. It’s so early that they don’t have a lot of guards on duty, just the night watchman and one other. He says he saw them go running past the gym a second ago.”
Eunjae reeled after him as soon as the doors opened again. They exited the elevator just as Max, Kei, and Jesse spilled out of their own rooms around the corner, summoned by Jungwoo’s flurry of text messages. He must have been sending them to the group chat the entire time. Eunjae hadn’t received any notifications; his borrowed phone number had never been added.
“This is so fucking funny,” wheezed Max, loping toward the stairwell on his long legs. He was so overcome by mirth that he’d acquired a stitch in his side already. “These people really think they can catch us.”
“We could take them,” Kei said grimly. “They’ve never had to perform four songs in a row at an awards show before. We’re in way better shape.” This only had Max wheezing even harder, and then Jesse started laughing his head off as well.
“Where’s Namgyu?”
“He’s recording for Idol Pop Radio today. Left ages ago already.”
“Oh yeah. Well, he can catch up with us when he’s done.”
“You babies shouldn’t be here. I was just telling you the situation, you didn’t need to join in.”
“Shut up, Jungwoo. We can help Ari escape, too. We’re more qualified since we didn’t betray him like you did.”
“I didn’t betray —”
“Et tu, Jungwoo?”
“Yeah, spoken like a true traitor.”
“But for real,” said Jesse, “no fighting! Hyung, it’s better if we all go. More of us for them to worry about.”
It’s better if we all go. A crazy thought slotted itself into the half-formed plan coming together in Eunjae’s head.
In the stairwell, Nick shouted down at them from the fifth floor landing. He’d taken the stairs from the start, as was his habit most mornings. He was on his way to meet Kazu at the gym on the ground floor when Jungwoo’s texts popped up. “Brisbane? Has Yoon lost his shit completely?”
“Ari really pissed him off. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Like we’d ever let them take hyung back to his horrible parents,” Jesse huffed, taking the concrete steps by twos like a lunatic.
Kei had made a very good point when he brought up the intense endurance contest that was their four-song marathon at the Golden Disc awards last December. What ordinary cardio workout could compare with singing and dancing for fifteen minutes straight, all kitted out in leather pants and full makeup? Running from a bunch of company goons was nothing.
Yes, this was the easy part. It would only get worse from here. And yet, Eunjae wasn’t half as worried as he probably should be. Perhaps the fear would hit him later, all at once like a slap to the face. But for now, his brothers were here. How could anything seem insurmountable for long? They had a knack for making him feel that way.
Apollo was magic, too.
Kazu met them in the empty courtyard. Together, they dashed for the back gate and split up, reconvening at a hole-in-the-wall noodle place down the block. At a signal from Nick, who had called ahead, the owner shunted them inside. Drapes were yanked shut and face masks passed around. This wasn’t her first time colluding with them.
“The goddamn wind sprints are finally paying off,” rasped Max. He sagged against Eunjae, downing a glass of water provided by their kindly collaborator. She even brought some towels to mop up the sweat they’d worked up on the way there.
“Ajumma,” Nick hollered into the back room, “I think you need a new Hermès scarf to go with that apron. I’ve got you.”
“You’re too much, Nicky!”
“What’s the plan?” Kazu demanded. He pointed to a tower faced in mirrored glass. It loomed on the skyline, the top just barely visible through a gap in the flowered curtains. “I can get a helicopter to the roof of that hotel over there, but I need to call for it right now if you want it to be waiting for you when you get there.”
Jesse gawked at him. “That’s one of your hotels? I thought it was a Hilton!”
“You can get me a helicopter?”
“My aunt decided to invest in a company that does helicopter tours of Seoul.”
“Gross! How do I always forget that Kazu’s from some millionaire family in Tokyo?” groaned Max.
“It’s because Grandpa Zuzu acts like spending money is the same as bleeding actual blood. Like one pint of blood for every hundred won.”
“Yeah, hyung doesn’t act like a normal filthy rich chaebol man at all. Well, except for the clothes, I guess.”
Kei threw his hands up in the air. “What clothes? Do you ever see him wearing the expensive clothes? We’re all just lucky we caught him before he ripped off his shirt at the gym this morning.”
“YA! I’d have clothes to wear if some of you could quit robbing my closet! And there’s nothing wrong with being frugal!”
Kazu’s roaring scattered his critics to the four winds. He turned to Eunjae again, steam still pouring out of both ears. “So? How are you getting out of here? The helicopter can get you wherever you want to go in the city, and Emerald will have a hard time chasing you that way. Seoul’s huge. It’s easy enough to disappear for a day or two once they’ve lost your trail, so long as you don’t go out much. Personally, I’d leave the country again. They’d hate that.”
“Don’t let them win, my son,” said Nick, making a mess of Eunjae’s hair. “Leader-nim said to tell you the same thing.”
“Actually,” Jungwoo corrected him, “the text says We’re winners in this family so get up and start winning before you embarrass me, with five exclamation points.”
Eunjae’s eyes burned with unshed tears. He looked at each of his brothers, his mind supplying the images of those who weren’t there, filling in the gaps where they would otherwise be standing. “I’m sorry,” he told them, voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Why the hell are you sorry?” Max exclaimed. “We’re sorry!”
Kazu wrapped Eunjae in a bear hug. It was somewhat sweaty, but none of his brothers could beat Kazu at giving hugs, and no one ever complained when they got one. “Let them disband us, Ari. They couldn’t break us up if they tried. Maybe we wouldn’t be Apollo anymore, but only we can say when Apollo is over, right? Apollo is us. And if quitting is how you end up happy, then I say you should quit. We say you should quit.”
Eunjae hugged his brother back. He couldn’t string the right words together, what with the sob caught in his throat, so this silent demonstration of gratitude would have to suffice.
“Wow, did you know we have a real dad sometimes?” Kei whispered to Jesse.
“Right? He sounded like a real dad just now.”
“That was some leadership shit,” Max concurred.
“YA!”
“Don’t forget the other part of Mom’s text!” Jesse treated everyone to some dramatic drum roll noises before reading Jaehwan’s message out loud. “Here it is: We don’t need a piece of paper to tell us that we’re brothers, you goddamn idiots. Gosh, I want that on a shirt. Can we get that on a shirt?”
Well, now Eunjae really was going to cry. He did his best to master the emotions, knowing that they didn’t have much time. “I’m not the only one who deserves to be happy,” he said fiercely. “Everybody in the group deserves that. For as long as that clause is in our contracts, we’re trapped. One person can make a choice about staying or leaving, but the others won’t be able to choose whether or not to disband. In the end, none of us gets to have a say. It isn’t fair or right.”
Eunjae stood up straighter, aware of the implications and the consequences of what he was about to ask of them next. “That clause needs to be removed. I know I can’t make it happen on my own. The company can ignore me, bully me, ship me back to Brisbane until I’ve had enough, but they can’t silence all of us at once. We’ll leave the country like Kazu said. The world is always watching us — let’s use that. Let’s tell everyone the truth.”
“Like, have a press conference?”
“Let’s hire one of those planes that fly the big banners through the sky.”
“And the banner will say what?”
“WE QUIT!”
“We can’t quit,” said Eunjae. “Breaking contract triggers the penalty clause that allows them to disband us and keep our music. But if we tell our story, it could be enough pressure to make Emerald remove it. So come with me. Help me win this. I know we can’t lose if we fight them together.”
Jungwoo frowned, still apprehensive. “What if this just makes them even madder?”
“Oh, they’ll lose it,” Kazu answered. “But if they retaliate when so many eyes are watching, it’ll only make them look bad. The last thing they want is for the company’s reputation to take a hit. You know how they are.” He turned to Eunjae, a glimmer of pride in his dark eyes. “Just tell us what to do next, Ari. It’s all for one, right? And one for all.”
”What a stupid fucking catchphrase,” muttered Max.
Jesse feigned offense. ”That”s from literature.”
“I’ll tell the others,” said Nick. “We can just meet up at the airport.”
“How will we even make it inside without being mobbed? The fans are always watching.”
“None of our schedules put us at the airport today. Hopefully they won’t know until it’s too late.”
Kei picked up the backpack he’d brought with him from the dorms. “You guys don’t even have anything to wear. I’m the only one who remembered what Jaehwan said about always having a go bag.”
”He said that? When?”
Kazu kept on typing in the group text. “We’ll just buy whatever we’re missing.”
“International Bank of Kazuhiko!” Jesse and Nick shouted together, fists in the air.
“His money is blood and blood is money!”
“Our dad is rich!”
Eunjae laughed helplessly. Even Jungwoo cracked in the end, shaking his head and pulling up an app for flight bookings on his phone. He was laughing so much that he kept entering the destinations wrong. But he closed the app a second later, an epiphany written plainly on his face.
“Hang on. Zu, does your uncle still have that jet?”