Page 97

“Oh, sorry,” I muttered to the person I’d just walked into. They frowned at me over their shoulder and moved away. My eyes rose back to Jihoon’s. His lips were pinched, shoulders shaking. I poked my tongue out at him and moved further into the room, and out the way of the busy people coming and going.

I sent my folks the selfie I’d taken in front of the building and then uploaded it to my social media. Normally I wouldn’t post anything that coincided with the group’s schedule in real-time, but it was public knowledge they were appearing on the show. It was a live taping, and many Vibers had won tickets to be in the audience, so it was the kind of post I could get away with.

Predictably, comments began to flood in almost immediately. They were generally words of support, or lighthearted jealousy. Some were a little more snide, while others simply questioned my talent as a journalist. I didn’t bother reading more than a few as we waited for the group to get ready, and I yawned as I slid my phone back into my pocket.

I caught Jihoon’s eye again as the members got up to head into the studio. He winked. I blinked several times, as if I was trying to refresh my brain, because what did this man mean by winking at me in full view of a room full of people?

Impulsively, I pulled out my phone.

Me

Pabo.

He and the others were halfway down the corridor when I heard his laughter drifting back towards me.

I watched the interview and the performance they did of Shelter – the title track from Reset – from behind the cameras with the managers.

I still loved watching them do shows like this, because it was clear they were having fun. Not all interviews were like that. Some shows clearly didn’t care about the group, and just had them on for the guaranteed views, asking vacuous questions that could be aimed at anyone.

The One Show was not like that.

The presenters, John and Holly, welcomed GVibes onto the stage to deafening cheers and applause. Even from here I could hear the fanchants, and I wondered if there was a single person in the crowd who wasn’t a Viber.

“GVibes,” John greeted when order had eventually been restored, “it’s been nearly five years since you were in London. How does it feel to be back?”

“It feels like coming home,” Minjae said, nodding politely at the presenters, but clearly directing the answer to the crowd, who obliged him by screaming their approval.

“We’re going to get noise complaints from the other studios, at this rate,” John laughed, clearly amused.

“The fans have waited five years for GVibes to come back to London,” Holly laughed, “I think they’re entitled to make a little noise.”

The audience took this as encouragement, and continued to erupt. I even saw some tears.

“Speaking of those five years,” Holly continued, “A lot has changed, because five years ago you performed at the Hyde Park festival, but the last time you actually toured was seven years ago?” She looked at the group who all nodded.

I was momentarily caught off guard by the reminder of how much time had passed.

I remembered the tour. I hadn’t been able to afford tickets. But somehow hearing it laid out so factually, making me remember the years before LA, before my life had changed was almost like being reminded of the plot to a book I hadn’t read in years.

“Last time you were on tour in London you played at the O2 arena, which can house around twenty-thousand people. Now you’re back, performing at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, to three times that number, and you sold out both nights within–” she paused to look down at her prompt card, before raising her eyebrows and continuing, “blimey,” she laughed. “Thirty minutes. Does it ever get to a point where it’s normal for you guys?”

Woojin raised his mic. “No.”

The audience burst into laughter.

“It doesn’t become normal,” Minjae said, “walking on stage to see so many people who have come to see us, knowing they have travelled, paid so much money, taken time off work just to come and watch us perform.” He shook his head.

“Terrifying,” Ace piped up, making everyone laugh.

“But in a good way?” Holly asked.

“No,” Woojin intoned.

It took several moments for the laughter to subside.

“What he means,” Minjae said, shooting Woojin a look, “is that there is a sense of pressure we feel to make sure everyone has a good time. Our fans have waited a long time for us. They waited through 2020, then our enlistment.” He ducked his head and for a moment, a shadow seemed to pass across the group. There and then gone in the time it took to blink. “Our fans waited for us,” he went on. “We want to give them the performance they deserve. Something that makes all that worth it.”

The audience collectively cooed, making the group laugh, and sprawl across Minjae, slapping his shoulders and wiping imaginary tears away.