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“I should, but I don’t know if I can,” I say as I get up from the sofa. “But I will try.”

I head to my bedroom, close the door, and remove my carry-on from the bed. I set it on the floor next to my rollaboard. Mr. Lee’s crew must have worked fast to get our luggage up here before we did.

Maybe Fig’s right, and Lyric won’t be back for a while—not if he’s with his friends having fun… without me.

I literally fall into bed, clothes and all, tuck the squishy pillow under my head and let out a resigned sigh. If I can’t have Lyric in person, dreaming of him is the next best thing.

I close my eyes and envision Lyric the last time we were together, joined at the hip while he glared at me. That image puts a smile on my face.

Chapter Four

Lyric

Izip up my jacket as the chilly winds swirl around us. It was Eun’s brilliant idea to go to the Gukje Market. The last time I was here, I walked away from Halmeoni to look at a toy and when I turned around, she was gone. I was alone and afraid for nearly four hours before she found me by a small restaurant at the far end of one of the two wings of the market.

“What’s going on in your head?” Lina asks, bumping her shoulder to mine. A half Korean and half Swiss transplant, I met Lina Weber during the end of our sixth year of elementary school. We became fast friends. Actually, she was the first person I came out to. And as a friend should, she kept my secret.

“Just remembering the last time I was here.” I chuckle. She knows about my harrowing event. I told her all about it during one of our school lunch times.

“I recall you telling me that,” she says, shaking her head. Her unique blue eyes light up with laughter.

“Stop. I still have PTSD from that experience,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Now you’re being overly dramatic,” she says with a single quirked brow.

I’m spared more of her scolding when Jay hoots with crazed laughter as he looks through stacks of CDs in a section marked “Rock.”

“I didn’t know Jay is into rock music. Did you know?” Lina questions, staring at our friend, who’s hopping up and down like he drank too much caffeine, which he probably did.

“Jay is Jay,” I say with a chuckle.

Jay Malone’s father was stationed here when Jay was young. Instead of going to school on base, he went to school with Eun, Lina, and me because his mom wanted Jay to be immersed in the culture.

Jay picked up the Korean language easily, and even back then we knew Jay had flair. The guy is the equivalent of a rainbow unicorn. Two years ago, he moved back here from the States to continue his education in linguistics. He can speak six languages that I know of, maybe even more.

“What are you trying to find?” Eun asks Jay, not looking up from his own search through a crate of vintage vinyl records. Eun is obsessed with vinyl albums. I’ve never understood it, although I’ve been told it’s the way the music sounds. But I still prefer having all my music on my phone.

Jay usually prefers clubbing-style of music. Like Madonna, Kylie and a few others I currently can’t think of, so his answer surprises me. “Anything good. I’m in the mood for some heavy metal—maybe some R & B—Ooh, good eighties music always hits my soul—you know I was born in the wrong era.” Have I mentioned that Jay’s a babbler?

I shake my head at our friend’s enthusiasm as he snags a CD from a pile and crows out in happiness.

“What do you have there?” Eun asks and takes the CD from Jay and reads the band’s name. “Warrior Black.”

My entire body stiffens and the air in my lungs vanishes. My vision becomes tunneled as I watch Jay snatch the CD back and start to hop around like he just won the damn million-dollar lottery. “This band is amazing. Did you know they are all gay—and it’s rare in the rock world for a whole band to come out like that. I can’t frickin’ believe it.”

“Lyric, what’s wrong?” Lina asks, her question pulling my focus from Jay.

I look at her and open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I’m having a panic attack because the guy I fell for without even knowing it is the lead guitarist for that band. And stupid me, I slept with him several times and then left without a goodbye. I close my eyes, hoping the wave of nausea in my gut dissipates.

“Eun, something is wrong with Lyric,” I hear Lina say.

A pair of cold hands cups my face. “Open your eyes, Yeong. Look at me.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat and lift my lids. Worry creases the corners of Eun’s eyes.

“Take a breath,” he says softly, then pauses. “Now another one.”

I follow his instructions until my head and stomach settle. The tunnel vision is gone and my lungs are working again. “I’m okay.”