37. Chapter 37
As he led his brothers across the tiny parking lot at the Ivy Lane Apartments, Eunjae realized that he”d arrived without a camera again. His favorite Nikon had been left behind in Seoul for a second time. Using one of his phones was fine, but insufficient. He didn”t trust either device to adequately capture what was here: the evening shadows that softened every angle, the lights in the windows and the wisps of cloud reflected in puddles. It had rained again while he was away.
He”d been away forever. He”d never left, not really. Magic worked in strange ways. And it was still here, despite everything, unsullied and unchanged.
It didn”t matter so much about the camera, Eunjae concluded. It wasn”t possible to fully preserve everything he felt so deeply about this return, and no photograph could convey the scent of dinner cooking in multiple kitchens at once, or the sound of the wind chimes as they seemed to be welcoming him home. A picture couldn”t record the comfort of having his brothers at his back, bickering and laughing amongst themselves. And a video couldn’t replace the sensation of just being here, either.
A picture would”ve been nice to have, though, if only so Eunjae could memorialize the look on Denny Han’s face when he opened the door.
“Am I drunk?” he muttered, studying Eunjae”s face and then the figures behind him. Louder, he repeated the question. “Yeonnie! Am I drunk?”
Jiyeon’s voice floated over to them from further inside the apartment, bemused. “How? You don”t even drink.”
“Then why am I looking at like, fifty copies of Ryan Kim? This can”t be real.”
There was a thump of crockery against the kitchen counter, set down with a bit more force than intended. The Han parents both doled out admonishments for being heavy-handed with the dishes. Eunjae listened with bated breath as Jiyeon’s footsteps approached the front door, closer and closer.
“It’s too early for it to be Ryan already,” he heard her say. “I checked. Traffic was terrible, as usual.”
“Yeah, well, this is definitely Ryan Kim. Plus six other Ryan Kims, which makes it a grand total of too many Ryans.”
“Who’s Ryan Kim?” Jesse whispered to no one in particular. Eunjae didn’t respond because by then he was face to face with Jiyeon, the brief history of their relationship replaying before his eyes. There she was again, standing behind her brother, staring at him from the threshold. Here he was again, in need of a place to stay.
Jiyeon slipped past Denny to stand on the doormat in her bare feet. “Eunjae,” she said, smiling, and it was only another thing he couldn”t take a picture of: that sense of being exactly where he should be, and the sound of his name imbued with such wonder, with tenuous joy. The way the rest of the world seemed to fall away so that nothing existed beyond the pool of light where they stood.
This didn’t last very long. Denny soon came to his senses and launched into a full scale interrogation. He did this after commanding everyone to get inside the apartment right now. Eunjae hadn’t witnessed his brothers obey orders with this much alacrity in months. Not since Jaehwan left for basic training.
Initial discussions revealed that no one had informed Denny of the size of Eunjae’s entourage. “I thought it was just you coming back! Not eleven billion clones of you.”
Eunjae bowed an apology. “I thought I mentioned it. Didn’t I?”
“Probably! To my sister!” There was some mumbling about ‘Ryan’s freaking priorities’ which certainly piqued the interest of every Apollo member within earshot. Eunjae squirmed inwardly. Why was he still in this jacket? It was much too warm for long sleeves.
“Sorry, Den,” said Jiyeon, not sounding sorry at all. “We decided Dad would get too excited if he found out, but I thought Mom was gonna tell you.”
“Surprise!” trilled Mrs. Han.
“Is that scary man trying to say we all look like Ari?” Namgyu whispered to Nick. “Because I don’t think we all look like Ari.”
Nick pinched his cheek, hard. “Calm down, Gyu. You don’t look like Ari. One: you’re shorter. Two: you’re way uglier. And three —”
That argument never built up steam, what with Mr. Han avidly making his rounds. He pumped each member’s hand with enough enthusiasm to power three squads of cheerleaders. He’d also memorized everybody’s names, including nicknames. And when he reached Eunjae, he snatched him up in a bear hug that made his back pop in at least two different spots.
“RYAN!” Mr. Han roared. “Lion-nim! You’re here! You came back!”
“I did,” said Eunjae, gasping for air. He was here. He’d made it back.
In that moment, he felt like he could get through anything.
“Ah, hold on. I just remembered.” Eunjae pulled Kazu and Kei out of the group and positioned them in front of the Han parents. “In the seventh or eighth episode of I Loved You, there’s a song that plays in the ending credits.”
When he heard it, he’d recognized his brothers’ voices in an instant. What with Apollo’s burgeoning discography, it was hard to keep up with all the projects the members had undertaken since 2014. Kazu and Kei had contributed a song to that soundtrack, though. They’d collaborated with success on multiple occasions, despite the chronic bickering.
“Just the chorus, Kei,” coaxed Eunjae.
“But I barely remember the lyrics!”
“Kazu’s got them on his phone.”
“You’re ganging up on me now? I hate it here so much.”
“What a big baby,” scoffed Max, in English. “Keiichi is a big, sad boo-boo bear.” Which did the trick, of course. Kei scanned the lyrics, opened his mouth, and began to sing. Kazu took over the second half of the chorus, and even before they were done, the rest of Apollo had broken out into deafening whistles, cheers, and applause. Jesse went so far as to doodle a sign on his phone that read ‘JAPAN LINE 4 EVER’. He waved this in the air like fans did at their concerts.
Mrs. Han fanned her face with both hands, bubbling over with tears. Jiyeon dashed for the box of Kleenex and brought it back to her. Mr. Han gave a loud sniffle, then started another round of hugs. Even Denny appeared fairly awestruck. Eunjae was not surprised. Anytime those two could be convinced to sing together, the result was a revelation. The slight rasp to Kazu’s voice provided a perfect balance to the unexpected sweetness of Kei’s.
Eunjae was glad to have thought of this as a gift, but there was still so much he needed to repay somehow. Not only to the Hans, but to his brothers. When all of this was over, he would keep chipping away at that debt. He’d work on it forever if he had to.
There was no way of peering into the future. He could secure no real guarantee that the battle would be won, but he would hold these people close, regardless. And there was one thing Eunjae knew for sure: any place was magic as long as they were with him.
It was worth it. It was everything.