Page 56 of K-Pop Double Life

She smiled, pleased. “I’ll be ready for touch-ups during the show. Just signal when you need me.”

I nodded as my phone buzzed in my lap.

The message display read “Unknown number,” and for one stupid second, hope punched through me. Had Sang-hoon changed his mind? Was he on his way back to me?

But when I opened the message, I began to shake as the Korean characters filled the screen. Missing him won’t save you.

22

STOP RUNNING

AIDAN — LONDON

After lunch with the group on Friday, Liam and I found a quiet corner of the InterContinental London’s lobby. Every few seconds the revolving door delivered another story. A Formula One driver I vaguely recognized from television hurried toward the lifts with his manager. A Gulf family shepherded three sleepy children past an arrangement of white orchids. Two executives argued quietly in German over tablets full of spreadsheets. A woman in a scarlet dress and heels sharp enough to qualify as weapons crossed the marble floor as if it were her own runway.

London gathered the world into places like this.

I pulled up the tour schedule on my laptop. At least this job kept us moving from one luxury hotel to another, unlike some of the places we’d stayed on other jobs where we were lucky to get weak Wi-Fi and hope there were no bedbugs.

The London concert would take place in a half-dozen hours, and then we’d leave the next morning for New York. The usual run of technical rehearsal followed by media interviews, then the performance at Madison Square Garden. São Paulo after that. Seoul to close out the tour.

Eleven more days. Eleven more opportunities for something to go wrong.

I looked over at Liam. “You’re getting that look again,” I said.

“What look?”

“The one where you’re three steps ahead and none of them are good.” I closed my laptop. “Talk to me.”

“Professional operation,” he said quietly. “This isn’t some obsessed fan. Someone’s running assets, positioning people, spending money. That takes organization.”

“And patience. That series of payments to Tran means this started before Cannes.”

“Which means whoever’s behind it knew the tour schedule months in advance. Had time to research, recruit, place people strategically.” He frowned. “Inside job. Has to be.”

My phone rang with a call from Jason, and I held it up so Liam could hear.

“We have a problem,” Jason said without preamble. “Makeup assistant, one of the local hires from Paris, posted rehearsal footage to social media.”

“What kind of footage?”

“Backstage. Costume changes. Close-ups of Jin between takes.” His voice was tight with controlled fury. “Deleted it as soon as I contacted her, but it was up for forty minutes. Long enough for screenshots, downloads.”

“Was it malicious or stupid?”

“She says stupid. Says she didn’t realize it violated the NDA, thought it was just behind-the-scenes content fans would love.” He paused. “But the footage included the dressing room layout. Clear shots of Jin’s private space.”

My blood went cold. “She could have sold that to whoever delivered the gift.”

“Exactly.”

“Where is she now?”

“Marseille. She’s shooting another concert tomorrow.”

I was already typing notes as Liam said, “And I want to know who hired her. Not just the agency. Who specifically recommended her for this job?”

Liam ended the call and turned to me. “I’ll bet you it’s the same agency,” he said quietly.