Page 113 of K-Pop Double Life

Tae and Woo argued about whether to order the tangsuyuk or whether it was redundant with the jjajang. Haneul said order both and stop discussing it. Min-kyu put his phone away with the deliberate motion of someone choosing to be present.

I watched them.

Years of my life with these four people. Training rooms and tour buses and hotel lobbies and stages and the specific intimacy of watching someone perform through exhaustion until the performance becomes something real.

The food arrived. Woo complained that his bowl was smaller than Tae’s. Tae measured both with his chopsticks. Min-kyu told them both to grow up.

Sang-hoon met my eyes across the table.

You okay?

I made myself smile. The one that looked real.

Getting there. I picked up my chopsticks, and let the noise of the people I loved fill the space around the thing I couldn’t say.

45

EVERYONE WATCHING

AIDAN — SEOUL

Tuesday June 9, 2026

When we arrived at the stadium on the afternoon of the concert, eight officers stood in front of the gate instead of the usual four, all Korean nationals, all ex-military. Jason had briefed us before we arrived, his voice carrying the particular weight of a man who’d done everything right and knew it might not be enough.

I looked at Liam. His posture hadn’t changed.

That told me everything.

The bus door opened. Jason stepped out first, and a distant roar drifted across the parking lot and the approach avenues to the stadium. Fans behind the glass barriers, camera flashes strobing off the windows. Jin followed, then the others, and the roar grew as all five of them hit the pavement.

“Jin!”

“Pryzm!”

Hundreds of voices, overlapping and echoing around us. Fans pressed against the barriers, phones raised overhead. Most were filming. Some were crying.

A cluster of fans held banners above their heads. Most were supportive.

WELCOME HOME.

PRYZM FOREVER.

THANK YOU, SANG-HOON.

Jin stopped a few feet from the entrance and motioned behind him to Sang-hoon, who had come out of the bus with the rest of the crew. Sang-hoon stepped up to stand beside Jin, and the crowd went wild.

Jin raised a hand immediately, smiling despite the dark circles under his eyes.

People cried harder. Phones shot into the air. A chant started somewhere down the line and spread.

“Jin! Jin! Jin!”

Sang-hoon kept his head down. Jin nudged him with an elbow.

I caught the exchange because I was already watching them. Sang-hoon shook his head, and then Jin said something I couldn’t hear.

Whatever it was earned a reluctant smile, and Sang-hoon lifted a hand and waved.