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“That’s lovely.”
“She was very angry at him,” she said in a tone that made me run the words over in my head to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood.
“Angry?”
“It cost him too much money. The war had only just ended, and the pabo spent all his money on this.” Her eyes crinkled as she spoke, like she enjoyed recounting this particular story.
“He must have loved her very much.”
“Eventually,” she said, smiling softly. “It was an arranged marriage. But they were happy. Happier when I came along,” she chuckled, and I laughed with her.
When I turned away, I saw Jihoon between the headrests of the seats in front of us, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Hwayeon, the expression in his eyes one he didn’t often show in public. It was soft, and it made me think that he knew exactly how much she loved him.
Despite Hwayeon’s insistence that I sit with her for the meal, we were separated almost immediately after getting off the bus. She and the members were ushered into the restaurant first, while I was discreetly held back until they were shown to their seats at a table at the far end of the room.
I was relieved to see other senior crew members there, including Jackson, who waved when he saw me. There were no other members of the media or press teams, so I took a seat beside Jackson.
From where we sat, I could see the group members, but there was a clear divide between them and us. Despite this, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from looking up throughout the meal, the loud restaurant granting me a modicum of liberty to do so because no one was looking at me.
Well, not quite no one.
Every time I looked across the packed room at him, he was looking back at me.
As the Soju flowed, and I began to relax, I felt a sense of déjà vu, a kind of echo going all the way back to Emporia in LA, where I’d kept sneaking glances at a K-Pop star who’d kept looking at me. That must have been why I felt the butterflies. An echo of a feeling that I’d felt years ago.
Because they absolutely could not be new butterflies.
Chapter 11
February 13
Idumped my bag on the floor and sat heavily in the chair, blowing out a breath before I yawned. I looked around at the crowds as they purposefully made their way through the airport, or stopped to look up at the departure screens. I yawned again as I looked at my phone. Early enough, I decided, scrolling through my contacts and pressing call. I didn’t have to wait long until the screen was suddenly filled with the grinning face of my best friend.
“Babes! Where the hell have you been? I’ve sent you so many messages!”
“I know, I know,” I dragged a hand down my face, “I’m sorry. It’s been more hectic than I planned.”
“Weren’t the concerts days ago?”
“Yes, and I know what you’re thinking – surely I’d have a few days off after the concerts, since the flight wasn’t until today? Wrong!” I sighed, leaning further back into my plastic seat. “I also thought I’d have time off to decompress, maybe go into the city, see the sights, write up my notes. But no. I spent most of my time at ENT.”
Becka scrunched her nose. “God, why?”
I laughed, and then quietened, mindful of my surroundings. “It was a mixture of things. I spent an entire day sorting out travel documents. Just an insane amount of paperwork. Then one more day was a really long fucking debrief, and a Q&A.”
“In addition to the massive binder they already gave you?” Becka raised an eyebrow. I’d shown her the ludicrously thick folder I’d been given on my first day. It was so large I’d needed to put it in my checked luggage.
“Apparently.”
“Anything new?”
“They were really, really eager to impress upon us that we’ll not be travelling with them. At any point. In any way.”
“That’s so specific,” Becka snorted. “Why?”
I bit my thumbnail. “I can’t help but suspect it has something to do with the ride I hitched to dinner with the group in their van. But in my defence, what was I supposed to say to his nan? They’ve clearly never met her. She’s not the kind of lady you say ‘no’ to.”
“No way it’s just that,” Becka scoffed.
