Page 87

It had been nearly a year to the day from when I’d last seen Min Taeyang at Glastonbury, but because we’d kept in contact so regularly, it felt like no time at all had passed.

“Pom!” he called, waving as he jogged towards me.

I waved back, grinning. He was blonde again, more white-blond than yellow, and in the Sydney sunshine, with the sharp angles of his face, he was positively fae-like.

He barrelled into me, knocking the air out of me as he scooped me up in a bear hug so tight it squeezed my lungs. “Put me down,” I half-laughed, half-squeaked.

He obliged, and took a step back, holding me at arm’s length as he squinted down at me.

“You look different,” he observed.

“You look like something out of a book about courts and roses.” I smirked, lifting a hand to muss his hair playfully.

He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, and swiped my hand away, taking a step away while I laughed.

“Hey! I invite you to my hometown, and the first thing you do is muck up my hair?”

“First of all, I came here with my other idols, not because of you–”

He grabbed his chest, doubling over as though I’d mortally wounded him.

“And second, you looked too perfect.”

Tae straightened up, sniffing as he looked down his nose at me. “If you’re not gonna be very nice to me, I don’t wanna take you out.”

“So untouchable these days, now that you’ve won all those awards?” I teased.

Sol8 had done particularly well off the back of their recent album. I was so happy for them. They deserved it.

“Sorry, what was that?” he said primly, cupping a hand around his ear and leaning down as if to hear me better. “I can’t hear you over all my accolades.”

He pretended to wipe imaginary dirt off his shoulder, and I pushed him, knocking him slightly off balance so that he had to take a step back.

“So violent, Kaiya,” he grumbled, rubbing his chest and pouting at me.

“Are you going to be this insufferable all day? If so, I can always go back to my hotel.”

“Ah, but then you wouldn’t get to spend time with me,” he said happily, swinging an arm around my shoulders and steering me away.

I sighed. “Haven’t heard a compelling argument yet.”

He just laughed.

Tae’s plan for the day was showing me around Sydney. Well, bits of it, anyway.

It was June, which meant while most of the world was gearing up for the hottest part of the year, Australia was sliding into winter. It was actually kind of a relief. I’d just flown in from the UK, which was going through an unreasonable heatwave. I’d gone from Brazil to the UK, and yet somehow, the UK had been hotter. I’d spent most of my stay with my parents, hiding inside, or in any patch of shade I could find.

Australia was delightfully contradictory, so far. I hadn’t yet seen any of the monstrous insects it was famous for, and it was blessedly cool. I said as much to Tae, who just laughed and told me to come back in a few months.

“And anyway, we’re right next to the harbour. It’s always a little bit cooler here.”

Tae’s idea of a good time in Sydney was taking me on the Manly ferry across the harbour. It was the middle of the day, but the ferry wasn’t so busy that he’d needed to be more than normally cautious in his sunglasses and hat.

We stood on the side of the ferry, looking out over the water. It sparkled under the sun, which shone bright in the sky, despite the lower temperature.

“That’s the Sydney Opera House,” he said, pointing to the iconic structure.

“Thank God you’re here,” I gasped. “I’d never have guessed.”