35. Chapter 35
“Aww, how could you give a heroic speech when I wasn’t there?” lamented Namgyu. “You couldn’t wait an hour?”
He was in the middle of handing out the t-shirts he’d bought for everyone at the airport gift shop, a purchase funded by Kazu. All the shirts were the same size and color, printed with the word JEJU in massive block print across the chest. Silhouetted behind the letters was a design featuring one of the island’s famous haenyeo divers in full gear, swimming for the surface.
Namgyu tossed a shirt at Eunjae. “You need to give the speech again so I can hear it in person. It’s not my fault I missed the jailbreak!”
“It really wasn’t much of a speech, Gyu,” Eunjae maintained, catching the shirt with both hands.
Jesse layered the souvenir shirt over his long-sleeved pajama top, which looked suspiciously like something filched from a certain brother’s Vuitton collection. “I loved the speech. I felt a lot of feelings.”
“Aww! I wanna feel the feelings too!”
“Why do we all have to wear the same thing?” groused Max, even as he pulled his own wrinkled shirt over his head and changed outfits right there in the terminal. A scandalized granny glared at him from her seat a few rows away. Max noticed and glared right back at her.
“I shouldn’t have to wear this. I didn’t run to the door looking like a clown this morning.”
“This is a family jailbreak, Keiichi,” said Nick. “You’re part of the family. Put the damn shirt on.”
“Yeah, you cried all over the one you were wearing, anyway. And on Ari’s hoodie, too.”
Upon fully absorbing what they were about to do, Kei had insisted that he be allowed to punch Eunjae in the face for ‘emotional damage and potential career destruction.’ When this permission was granted, he’d dissolved into a sobbing wreck and ended up punching approximately no one. Now he donned his new Jeju Island tourist apparel and began lecturing on the itinerary, sniffling every once in a while.
“Jeju to Singapore, six hours. After that we’re all on different flights to LAX, good luck to Emerald if they’re trying to catch us. It’s me and Grandpa to Tokyo — Haneda instead of Narita because that’ll throw the agency off a bit. Five hour layover for us. Nicky and Namgyu are stopping in Taipei. There’s only an hour before the connecting flight so don’t get distracted and wander off.”
“Kazu and Jaehwan are the same age. Shouldn’t they both be grandpa?”
“I only have one grandpa and his name is Ueda Kazuhiko.”
“Can’t decide if I should be flattered or not,” said Kazu.
“Okay, and why were you looking directly at me when you said not to wander off?” asked an affronted Nick. “Namgyu’s the one who wanders off.”
“And then you go and follow him,” said Kei, exasperated. “Anyway! Ari, Max, and Jess have a flight from Singapore to San Francisco. The earliest flight from there to LA was the next morning at stupid o’clock, sorry. So long as there aren’t any delays, cancellations, or weird weather patterns, we should all be in California by Wednesday. Well, Wednesday-ish. Or is it Thursday? I dunno. I haven’t gotten enough sleep to calculate time zones.”
There was a brief but enthusiastic scatter of applause for Kei’s mental gymnastics. He accepted this with grace. Then he stopped short, turning slowly to Jungwoo. “Hyung, you never told me which group you were going with. Ari’s, I guess? Were you able to get another seat on that flight for yourself?”
But Jungwoo shook his head. Eunjae realized that his Jeju shirt was folded neatly on the empty chair between them.
“This is as far as I go,” said Jungwoo, addressing the whole group but making eye contact only with Eunjae. “I’m flying back to Seoul.”
This announcement brought stunned silence in its wake. Jungwoo pressed on. “I can’t… I can’t risk anything more, Ari. I know you’ve said this isn’t your dream, and even though I didn’t realize that about you until a few days ago, you probably knew from the start that it’s my dream. To work in this industry, to make it big. To write music and produce for other people.”
Jungwoo looked away. “I want to have a career when this mess is over. If I come with you, I have a feeling that won’t be possible. Emerald has too much power. They can make sure none of us ever makes it any further than this. Maybe I can still talk to them. Get this done a different way.”
Nick recovered first. “You’re siding with the agency? Are you serious?”
“I’m not siding with them,” Jungwoo insisted. “I won’t help them find you guys. I won’t say anything at all.”
“Hyung, you could write more songs. You’re so good, you’ll never run out of them. I just know it.”
“That’s easier said than done, Jess.”
“This isn’t just for Ari,” said Kazu. “It’s for all of us. You get that, don’t you? Everyone is risking everything, and it’s for the whole group. If we lose, you lose. If we win, you win too. There’s no way to separate yourself from it, not from the agency’s standpoint. Running back to Seoul might not even save you.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“There’s probably no way to get off easy on good behavior, Jungwoo. Too late for that.”
“I know that, too.”
“So you might as well come with us,” ventured Namgyu. Nicky and Kei murmured their agreement with this suggestion. They received no response.
Max threw his balled up basketball jersey at Jungwoo, who didn’t even try to dodge it. “Unbelievable. You’re the fucking worst, hyung. You always are. Every time I think you’re not so bad, I just end up disappointed.” He stomped away with Jesse and Nick peeling off after him, concerned.
As for Eunjae, he stared across the fissure that divided them, breaking their long friendship into Before and After. Not a clean break, but then again, how often does that happen? And even broken things might someday be whole again.
It took him a little while, but eventually he nodded at Jungwoo and said, “Okay. I understand. Thank you for being there for me when I needed you.”
Because Jungwoo had been there that morning, when the company tried to send him to Brisbane. He’d been there for Eunjae dozens and dozens of other mornings before that, and afternoons and evenings, and sleepless nights in studios or on planes. Jungwoo had been there — that was the important thing, the part he couldn’t lose sight of. Eunjae wanted to believe that Jungwoo would still be there in the future, that they could support each other even if their paths diverged. But bridges must be built. Wounds take time to mend.
Eunjae had to take this chance to follow a dream that belonged to him, genuinely. He didn’t even know the full extent of that dream; so much of it was still hazy, nowhere near as crystalline and focused as Jungwoo’s. It would be his choice, though. He cherished the ability to make that choice. Jungwoo should be able to choose, too.
Half an hour later, Eunjae walked his brother to the gate and said goodbye.