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The moment passed as Minjae gently pushed him so that the members could all file in and take a seat on the side of the table directly opposite us. There were more of us than them, so I ended up facing an empty seat. I was frustrated at myself for feeling a confusing blend of relief and disappointment. Under the table, I picked at my thumb nail, resisting the urge to bite it. I’d never managed to break the habit, and I suspected that this tour would not be the turning point.

Once upon a time, I would have had some very strong feelings about sitting around the same table as all five members of my favourite group, but performers – whether they were K-Pop, or a boy band from Liverpool – presented a version of themselves to the world. You didn’t actually know the person, not really. The men on the other side of this table had slipped back into being strangers to me, but I had known them as real people. Things were different now. The lines had been drawn. Ever since I’d sat in a room with them in LA last year, it had been clearer to me than ever. This was their job, and I was here to do mine. We could be professional. Although, yes, okay, perhaps that detachment didn’t quite extend to Jihoon. He was a whole other entity I didn’t know how to classify yet.

But I would. And for now, I would pretend.

We were led through a round of introductions, but to my relief, the coordinator did the honours for us, reading out our names and credentials. When she got to me, I could feel five pairs of eyes on me before I even looked up. But I did. I nodded calmly, and I was grateful when none of the members gave any kind of indication that they knew me outside of a professional setting. I’d been half afraid that Ace would do something that indicated we knew each other, but they all remained perfectly professional. I didn’t meet Jihoon’s eyes. I was so tired I wasn’t sure I’d be able to remain aloof.

And I really wanted to remain aloof.

The meeting was not a long one. The coordinator mostly just reiterated what we’d gone over earlier today. The tour schedule, the purpose of the filming, what they expected to see, behaviours, etc. Some jokes were cracked about not filming in private areas – this wasn’t that kind of documentary, ha ha. I pantomimed a smile.

The conversation lapsed back into the technical aspects, and I began to feel the weight of eyes on me. Even before I looked up, I knew that he was watching me, but I looked up anyway, because how could I not? It wasn’t an overt stare. It was the look of a person who was perhaps allowing his eyes to wander as anyone would. Except of course it wasn’t, and as my eyes met his, I didn’t know what expression he saw, but his eyebrows drew together, and his mouth pinched before he took a breath and looked down at his clasped hands. I saw him bite his lip, and I don’t know what I felt, but it wasn’t nothing. It was as if I’d tried so hard to push down my feelings that I could no longer differentiate between the ones that slipped free.

The strangeness of being in a room with the group began to wear off around the same time that the coordinator announced we were done for the day.

GVibes filed out first, waving their goodbyes, and when the door closed behind them, the room seemed to expand. Or perhaps it was that I felt like I could take a breath for the first time in nearly an hour. I almost expected the members of the media team to start chattering excitedly but the vibe was the opposite. I had to remind myself that I was in a room with people for whom this was probably quite common. Hell, it wasn’t even uncommon for me.

I sighed deeply and dragged my hands through my hair, trying to clear the fog that had settled over my brain like a blanket, and it seemed that between one blink and the next, half the room had cleared out, taking the low buzz of chatter with them. I allowed myself a beat of quiet to lean back in the chair, finding the motivation to push to my feet and begin the journey from this table to my hotel room.

I grabbed my bag and slung it onto my shoulder as I moved around the table towards the door. I was the last one out, but the thought didn’t bother me. I hadn’t needed an escort around the building this morning, and I didn’t need one now.

I pulled open the heavy door, and a rush of cool air blew my hair from my face. The corridor was empty, but I could hear the bubble of nearby voices heading in the direction of the elevators. I stepped out of the room, and that was when I saw him leaning against the wall looking at his phone, almost hidden by the door I’d just walked through. I would have liked to say I was surprised, but I wasn’t. I took two steps out of the room when he quietly spoke, and the sound of my name in his mouth felt somehow like gravity. I turned around as he slipped his phone into his pocket and closed the distance between us.

“We need to talk.” His voice was low, measured as if he was trying not to startle me.

“I’m here to work,” I said, and perhaps it was a little unfair considering how I’d basically ignored him for weeks. The reminder of my cowardice made heat rise in my cheeks, and I looked away.

“I know. I don’t want to get in the way of that. But we do need to talk.”

I didn’t disagree with him, I just couldn’t muster the courage to have any kind of conversation with him, especially not right now when it felt like the slightest vulnerability would tip me over.

“Can we just… not right now,” I murmured, rubbing my forehead, and to my horror, I felt myself sway.

Faster than I could see, Jihoon was beside me, holding my elbow, steadying me and standing so close I could feel his body heat. He’d always run so hot. I looked up, holding his gaze as if it might anchor me to this moment, and I opened my mouth – just then, footsteps hurried towards us. I pulled away, jerking slightly as I regained my balance in time to see Ace bounding down the corridor. He grinned when he saw me, but it almost immediately slid off his face as his eyes darted between me and Jihoon.

I didn’t pause, didn’t allow myself the space to consider if I seemed rude. I hurried past him towards the elevator.

I did not look back.

Chapter 8

February 7th

Seoul Day 1

Ididn’t see, or hear, from any of the group again until the day of the concert.

That morning, the media team were picked up from ENT and driven to the venue. GVibes were on the minibus too, seated at the back while the documentary crew filmed them and got some opening statements. I wasn’t involved in any of it, but I was uncomfortably aware of their presence as I boarded the bus and took a seat at the front.

The concert wasn’t due to start until seven pm tonight, with sound check at five pm, but already Vibers were gathered outside. As we drove past them, I could see there were people partaking in random-play dance circles. I watched, deeply impressed as a number of people flawlessly executed the moves to Work Harder. Other Vibers were hanging out on the grass making friendship bracelets with little boxes of beads. Nearly everyone I could see was dressed in some combination of the GVibes colour theme.

Our mini bus was escorted though the road blocks into the staging area at the back of the arena. It was a hive of activity, with dozens of people coming and going, transporting all manner of things and generally looking busy.

We all moved off the bus and GVibes were immediately led away. The rest of us were met by the same tour coordinator that had taken us through our orientation. Today, she looked significantly less relaxed.

“I’m going to take you on a tour of the venue so you can see the staging. This is the set-up we will be replicating for the entire tour, with some alterations based on venue restrictions. You will be issued a general-areas pass, which means you are free to explore, but you will not be allowed in restricted areas. But don’t worry, all restricted areas will have security posted, so if you get ‘lost’…” She looked around the group with a raised eyebrow. “A helpful member of the security team will escort you out.” She laughed, but the implication was clear enough.

I followed the tour for a while, content to be shown around, but I decided to bail when the focus started to shift towards venue capacity, and seated numbers vs standing.