Page 63 of K-Pop Double Life

Jin went very still.

“She says she never met the person who hired her in person,” Liam added. “Communication was through encrypted messaging and burner numbers. Payment came through a shell company.”

“So she doesn’t know who’s behind this?” Tae asked.

“Either she genuinely doesn’t,” I said, “or she’s better at lying than most intelligence operatives.”

“Do you believe her?” Sunny asked.

I glanced at Liam. “Partly,” I said. “I think Sophie knew she was doing something questionable. I don’t think she understood how dangerous it was. The police had no reason to detain her, so she’s apparently flown back to Marseille where she lives.”

“And now?” Haneul asked.

“Now whoever hired her knows we’ve disrupted one part of their plan.”

The room went silent.

“Which means,” Liam said quietly, “they’ll adapt.”

I went back to the projector and pulled up another photo, of Jin on stage, mid-performance, but his eyes were unfocused. Looking toward the wings. Looking for someone who wasn’t there.

“That’s the third time during that song you looked away from the audience,” I said. “Three moments when you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. Three opportunities for someone to approach without you noticing.”

“So what do I do?” Jin asked. “How do I fix this?”

“That’s up to you,” Liam said. “But you need to make a decision, Jin. Find a way to compartmentalize, put Sang-hoon in a box. Deal with it after the tour, and function professionally right now. Or you reach out to him, try to fix it, get some closure so you can move forward.” He paused. “Or you step back. Let the other members carry more weight while you recover.”

“I can’t step back. I’m the center.”

“You’re one member of a five-person group,” Haneul said. “And we can adjust. Give you fewer lines in New York, less center time. Melissa can redo some of the choreography. Let you be part of the group instead of the focus.”

“That’s not fair to you.”

“What’s not fair is watching you destroy yourself because some guy decided you weren’t worth fighting for.” Haneul’s voice was hard. “I don’t care how much you care about him, Joon-hi. He left. He made that choice. And now you need to make yours. Are you going to let that break you, or are you going to fight back?”

“I tried,” Jin said. “I texted Sang-hoon in Seoul.”

The room quieted and everyone stared at him.

“I told him that leaving didn’t make me safer. That it made me vulnerable. That he broke us both.”

“Did he respond?” Sunny asked.

“He answered the first one, but none of the others.” He looked embarrassed. “I may have sent him a lot.” Jin pulled out his phone, and showed us the message.

I know. I’m sorry. But I can’t come back. You’re safer without me, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.

Liam read it and swore quietly. “He’s still convinced he made the right choice.”

Jin was quiet, and then something changed in his posture. He straightened his back and looked straight ahead.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said. “Can’t keep hoping he’ll change his mind. Can’t keep performing while falling apart. Can’t keep being Jin when Joon-hi is destroyed.”

He took a deep breath. “I want to finish the tour,” he said slowly. “I want to perform in New York and São Paulo and Seoul. I want to give the fans what they came for.”

“That’s brave,” Sunny said.

“Or maybe I’ll destroy my career because I can’t perform with a broken heart.”