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Minjee’s vague choice of words doesn’t escape me. It’s probably wise. The shop is crowded, and the last thing we want is someone overhearing us talking about the disastrous last script.
“Okay, thanks!”
We end up picking a bunch of different-flavored mochi, from strawberry to dried persimmons to cookies and cream. At another shop, I buy us some hot tea, and we spend some more time happily snacking as we wander through the alleyways.
Neither of us says anything until we reach a particularly deserted corner.
“What are we going to do about the ending?” Minjee finally asks.
“I have no idea.” My mouth still tastes sweet from the mochi, so I sip on my warm barley tea to cleanse my palate.
Minjee sighs. “I’ll have to ask my parents about what to do. Hopefully they’ll have some advice for us.”
It’s only then that I’m reminded that, unlike my parents, who would have no relevant experience or advice to help in this situation, Minjee’s folks are veterans in the industry. Minjee almost never mentions her folks, so it’s very easy to forget.
“Yeah, hopefully we can figure something out.”
“But honestly, even if the show ends up sucking, I don’t really regret being involved in it, you know?” Minjee says, approaching me. “Because if it weren’t for this weird little show, we would have never become a thing.”
I look into her eyes.Fated Destinywas supposed to be my big break as an actress, the show that would greatly advance my career so I’d no longer get cast as supporting characters. So although I can never just call it a “weird little show” likeMinjee can, I do agree with her on one thing.
“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t regret us at all.”
Minjee leans in for a quick kiss but then suddenly jerks away, staring in shock at someone behind me.
I turn to see a middle-aged man holding a DSLR camera. He’s in a hoodie and wearing sunglasses, so I have no idea who he is, but what he was doing is pretty clear. Our eyes meet, and he breaks into a run.
“Hey!” Minjee shouts. “Come back here!”
Sirens go off in my head as I run after him with Minjee. Darting this way and that to avoid crashing into people, we chase after the photographer. But no matter how fast I run, he’s faster. My lungs scream with the effort to keep up, and I run and run, but we still lose the man when he turns a corner.
“Crap!” Minjee shouts. She covers her face with her hands. “Oh my God. Hana, I’m so sorry. I never should have...”
She breaks down, gasping for breath and falling down to her knees. I nudge her to the side so she’s not in anyone’s way and wrap my arms around her.
“It’s okay,” I say, even though my world feels like it’s crashing down around me. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”
I hold her tight and really hope I’m right.
