I’m grateful to have a neutral topic for my mouth to run on about while my brain touches down on every want and every doubt.What is this, really? What do you think is going to happen after you step on that plane? Not what you want to happen but what will happen each day. What’s theplan?
“Luxe was great, but those women were something else.” I glance at his chest. “Can you move your pecs?”
“What?”
“Make your chest muscles jump around.”
“I’ve never tried.” He looks down and I can tell by his face he’s struggling. Then one side twitches through his shirt, and he looks triumphant.
I give him a slow clap. “Sexy.”
“I can also wiggle my ears. Starrys will be impressed I can add this to my list of tricks.”
I glance out the window, confirming we’ve been in the same spot for a while. “I wonder if there’s an accident,” I say. “The traffic is slower than usual.”
He shrugs. “It might be my fault.” The connection is lost on me, so he elaborates, “Sometimes so many Starrys come to see us that it causes traffic jams.”
How in the world did I think this was a good idea? The man causes freaking traffic snarls. Even more surreal is that he takes it for granted. This is normal to him, a regular occurrence.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“It might be an accident,” he says. “It doesn’t happen all the time.”
“You really think that?”
“No,” he admits. “It’s probably because of me.”
His tone is easy enough but with a tension underneath that reflects my own. I’m casting around for a new topic when he speaks.
“Talk to me, Ari. I can tell there’s something upsetting you. Is it the traffic? Or that I’m leaving?”
I laugh and then immediately cringe because it sounds so brittle and false. “Of course not. You have work. It’s important.”
“Why are you speaking like this?” Jihoon shifts away from me to look at my face. “You’re important, too. I want us to be together, and you’ll visit soon. We can do this.”
No, we can’t.I wanted to, but real life has clawed its way back in. Ari and Jihoon half a world apart would be hard enough, but layering on a lawyer and a K-pop idol? It’s impossible, and I finally acknowledge the truth with a sick finality.
“You’ll be busy when you go back,” I say slowly, not sure how to say what I need to.
“I’m used to it.” His phone buzzes, and he frowns when he checks it.
“What?” I ask.
In answer, he shows me a video of the departure gate swarming with people holding those star sticks and banners. I replay it, almost unable to believe my eyes. “Is that for you?”
“This isn’t as bad as it can get.” He shuts the video off. “Starrys will be shocked to see Kit hyeong and Daehyun, since that didn’t leak,” he adds. “It will get the attention away from me.”
“Isn’t there a VIP terminal or something? Why do you need to go through the crowd?”
He gives me a crooked smile. “For the fans. Newlight wants us seen.”
It feels like they want to parade the captured general, but I sense this observation won’t be welcome and keep my mouth shut.
It’s worse than what I saw outside my apartment, and I can barely take it in. Reading about Jihoon’s fame is far removed from seeing it firsthand. I’d been playing with the knife of inadequacy already, and its nasty edge cuts in a little deeper. I text Hana for validation.The airport. That’s wild, right?
Her response is the polar opposite to Jihoon’s laissez-faire attitude.Totally,she texts.Make sure you’re covered when the door opens so they don’t see you.
I didn’t think of that, but apparently Jihoon has because he starts fussing around with a bag beside him. Out comes a pair of huge sunglasses, a face mask, and a black hoodie. “Here,” he says, passing them over. “At the right angle, a telephoto lens can see into the car.”
