The next morning, Jaewoo and I head over to the mall when it opens so that I can buy socks and sneakers as well as a sweatshirt to wear over my dress. We actually purchase matching “couple” sweatshirts with cute cartoon characters, which I know Gi Taek and Sori are going to tease me horribly about, but I think we look adorable.
It’s Sunday, so instead of the dorms, Jaewoo drives us to the clinic so that I can visit Halmeoni while he goes to therapy.
Walking into Halmeoni’s room, I’m surprised to find my mother sitting at her bedside. I’d forgotten that she was visiting today but after spending such a great evening and morning with Jaewoo and his family, I’m excited to spend more time with mine.
“Eomma,” my mom says, as I approach the bed. Halmeoni looks up at me with an apologetic glance. I’ve apparently walked right into something. Mom doesn’t even acknowledge me. “Stop being stubborn. The doctor tells me you could have had surgery a week ago, but that you refused.”
Halmeoni pouts. “You weren’t here a week ago,”
“But I’m here now. We could schedule it as early as next week.”
“Why?” Halmeoni says. “You’re here for another three months. Why can’t we wait?”
“It’ll take time for you to recover,” Mom counters. “And . . .” She sighs, pressing her fingers to her temples, a clear sign she’s stressed. “I need to go back to my life. Jenny has to go back to hers. I was thinking that if you had your surgery early, we could be in LA by the end of June.”
My heart drops. The thought of leaving early never occurred to me.
“My showcase is at the end of June,” I say.
“I can get the surgery after,” Halmeoni adds quickly. “If I get it now, I won’t be well enough to see Jenny perform.”
We both wait expectantly as Mom mulls over our words. “Fine,” she says, and I let out a sigh of relief. “You’ll watch Jenny perform at the showcase, and then we’ll leave as planned, soon after you recover.”
While my mom checks a text on her phone, Halmeoni and I exchange a conspiratorial glance. Of course we want to spend more time with each other, but I also know Halmeoni wants the whole three months with her daughter. And I want that time with Jaewoo and my friends.
The rest of the morning is pleasant, though my mom spends a lot of it answering emails. She does tell me a little about the case she’s been working on, which sounds incredibly complicated. My heart swells with pride at all the good work she’s doing.
For lunch, Mom takes Halmeoni and me to a naengmyeon restaurant near the bakery. While slurping up delicious buckwheat noodles in chilled broth, Halmeoni asks me questions about the showcase.
“I’m auditioning for a solo,” I tell her. “And my friend Sori and I are also auditioning for a duet together.”
“Is Sori your roommate?” Halmeoni asks. “I’m so glad you’re friends now!”
“What do you mean a duet?” Mom asks sharply.
I glance at her nervously. “It’s a cello and dance piece. Sori’s a dance major and . . .”
“So you’re doing three auditions?” Mom interrupts. “For your ensemble, solo, and this duet?”
“Yes?”
“Jenny,” she says. “Aren’t the auditions in less than two weeks? How are you supposed to prepare for three separate auditions? Have you talked to Eunbi?”
“Soojung-ah,” Halmeoni chides. “I think it’s a wonderful thing for Jenny to perform with her friend.”
“It’s not about a nice memory, Eomma. This is about Jenny’s future.” She looks at me, disappointment written all over her face. “I’m starting to regret my decision to let you come to Korea. You should be concentrating on your music, not getting distracted by your friends.”
If Sori is a distraction, I shudder to think what she’d say if she knew about Jaewoo.
Across the table Halmeoni takes my hand and squeezes. “She’s only upset with you because of me.”
That might be true, but Mom’s not wrong either. Auditioning with three separate pieces is more difficult than if I had only two to concentrate on. But I’m determined to make it work.
For the next week, I do everything I can so that all of my pieces are a success. I book more time in the practice rooms, and Sori and I continue our late-night rehearsals in the dance studio. The only downside to all the time spent in practice is that I see less of Jaewoo, Though that’s partly due to his own schedule, which has gotten busier since XOXO began promoting the second single off their album.
The following Wednesday, the program of the showcase is posted. I find my name on the list of soloists and my knees almost give out.
“Jenny!” Sori shouts.
She’s pointing at the paper that lists all the collaborations.
“We got it?” I ask.
“We got it!” she screams. We hug and bounce around in a circle. Ours was the only duet that was accepted. It was a relief to get the solo, but getting the duet feels like a victory, one made even sweeter because I can share it with Sori.
“Oh my God,” she says. “We have to think about outfits!”
The first person I tell is Jaewoo. One of the perks of the Samsung deal was that he and the rest of XOXO were given the latest model of smartphones, paid for by the company. And more important, not monitored by their manager.
Guess what? I text.
He responds immediately. You got it?
Yes!
Congrats. I can’t wait for your performances. You’re going to be incredible.
You’ll announce me, of course. Since Jaewoo and Nathaniel have already debuted, they’ve opted out of performing and instead are acting as the night’s MCs. Jenny Go, cellist extraordinaire, and best girlfriend in the whole wide world.
Yes, I’ll say it just like that. What are you doing after school on Friday? You want to hang out?
YES!
Meet me at Joah after school? I’ll give the security guard your name and information.
I’ll have to cancel one of my bookings in the practice room, which is slightly painful only because they’re so difficult to come by now that the showcase is a little over a month away, but I’ve barely seen Jaewoo since our date. Skipping a single practice won’t hurt.
I take a cab to the address Jaewoo texts me right after classes get out on Friday. I don’t know what I expected the main building of Joah Entertainment to look like, but it’s fairly inconspicuous, with a slate-gray industrial-looking facade. I pay the cab driver and step onto the street. As I approach, the young people loitering outside, girls dressed in school uniforms like me, stare at me curiously.
The guard in the small gatehouse glances up at my approach, but then looks back down at a laptop, where he’s watching some sort of variety show.
I wave at him through the window. “Excuse me.”
With a heavy sigh, he stands up from his chair. “What do you want?” he says through the plated glass.
“I—” Do I just tell him I’m here to see Jaewoo? I’m sure all these other girls are also here to see him.
“Well? Speak up, girl.”
“My name is on the list? Jenny Go. J-E-N-N-Y-G-O,” I spell out.
I’m relieved to discover that a list actually exists when he picks up a clipboard wedged beneath the computer. Written vertically down a piece of paper are names in Korean; the very last name is mine, scribbled in English. He points to it, and I nod.
“Tell whoever you’re meeting to join you in the lobby.”
“Thank you.” I bow.
I hurriedly enter the building, hunching my shoulders to ward off the curse-filled eyes of the girls behind me.
The interior of the building is a lot nicer than the outside. The lobby is spacious, filled with natural light from upper floor windows. There’s even an employee café to the right of the lobby.
“Jenny!” Jaewoo jogs over from the elevator bank. He looks like he just came from washing up, his hair slightly damp, wearing a loose T-shirt that shows his collarbones.
I press my hands behind me so that I don’t leap into his arms. As far as anyone can tell, I’m just one of Jaewoo’s classmates, along for a tour. Because of the relationship between SAA and Joah, tours are common enough that people wouldn’t think twice at my being here.
“Hey,” I greet him. “I think I made all your fangirls outside explode with jealousy.”
“There’s people outside?” Jaewoo looks in the direction of the doors. “I should ask reception to hand out some water bottles. It’s the hottest day this year, by far.”
I follow him to the receptionist desk so he can make the request before we head over to the elevators.
“I thought we’d go on a tour of the building, and then maybe order takeout,” he says, pressing the Up button. “Is there anything you’re craving?”
“Hmm . . .” I lean back against the wall of the elevator. “What’s around here that delivers to this address?”
“You name it, they deliver it.”
I tap a finger to my lips. “I want a double-fudge sundae, waffles, and jjajangmyeon.”
“Done.”
The elevator stops on the third floor and the doors open. A short foyer connects to a large dance studio with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Emblazoned on the back wall is the company logo and sign: Joah Entertainment.
“I’ve seen this room before,” I say. “In your dance practice videos.”
“You watch those?”
“You’re my boyfriend. Don’t think for a second I haven’t seen all your videos, even the fan-made ones that point out all the evidence that you and Nathaniel are a couple.”
“That’s embarrassing,” Jaewoo says. “And here I thought we were being careful.”
We visit a few more rooms like this one on the same floor, though smaller. Some of them are occupied by sweaty kids, ranging from ages thirteen to sixteen. When Jaewoo and I walk in, they all stop their practicing to bow, calling him “seonbae.”
They bow to me too, and I mimic Jaewoo, nodding politely.
“Trainees,” he explains.
Afterward, we go down a flight of stairs to the second floor where he shows me a room with a long conference table used for company meetings. The last stop on the tour is the recording studio. Jaewoo pops out to order our takeout before rejoining me. The studio is fairly small, with a leather couch and low table. The majority of the room is taken up by a control panel that looks out onto a separate room encased by glass with a recording microphone hanging from the ceiling.
“When I’m not in the practice rooms, I’m usually here or in the room next door, which has all our instruments. Right before our tour this summer, we’re releasing a special extended album and including a few new tracks. I can play you a sample from one of them, if you’d like.”
“I would love that,” I say, and he smiles.
He sits on one of the large chairs in front of the control panel and I take the one beside him, swiveling so that I’m facing him.
“Here,” he says, handing me a pair of large noise-canceling headphones. He plays around with few controls on the panel and then music floods my ears.
I recognize the low, beautiful sound of a cello. I look up and Jaewoo nods, a smile on his face. The cello is soon joined by a whole symphonic orchestra, violins striking a powerful chord, then the electric guitar comes in at the same time as the drums, and my whole body shivers at the effect. And that’s only the intro; it gets better from there.
The song is brilliant. It’s going to be genre-breaking once the vocals are added, and I can only imagine how amazing the dance that’ll be choreographed for a song like this will be.
When the sample finishes playing, I take off the headphones. “I love it,” I gush.
“Yeah? I’m glad to hear you say that. It’s a little different than our normal sound. I think it’s because everyone took a part in creating it. Sun came up with the melody, I’m writing the lyrics while Youngmin’s writing the rap verses, and Nathaniel’s working with the choreographer. We’ve included Sun’s interest in rock, Nathaniel and Youngmin’s love of 90s K-pop, and my interest in experimenting with sounds and blending genres. It’s a lot in one song, but . . .”
“It’s incredible.”
Jaewoo bites his lip. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes! It’s already so good. I wish you could feel what I’m feeling right now. I’m in shock. My heart is racing. I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like once you’ve added the lyrics.”
“I’m working on them now.”
“Do I get a preview?”
He laughs. “I think I want to wait a bit, until the whole song is complete, and you can have the full experience. You’ll be one of the first people to hear it, I promise.”
Normally I’d be pleased at the prospect but my mind snags on what he’s said earlier, that the album will be released right before our tour this summer. Will I even be here to listen to the song? I’ve been so busy lately with practicing for the audition. It’ll get worse in the weeks ramping up to the showcase. And now he has to prepare for not only an extended album but a tour? How will we get any time together?
“To be honest,” Jaewoo says, his eyes downcast as he slides his hand across the control board. “I was a little worried, since it was my idea to include a song like this. I was afraid that I was leading our group in the wrong direction. But . . .” He looks up, meeting my eyes. “I trust your opinion. If you like the song, then I can feel confident that I’m doing the right thing.”
I catch my breath, feeling overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. Because I want to be there for him when he needs support, to witness him in moments like these, when he’s on the verge of creating something brilliant.
Just as I want him to be there for me, for my ups and downs, whatever they may be.
But how can we be, when we live in different countries? When we’re pursuing such different dreams, he an idol in a band that’s about to be a global sensation, me a concert cellist? And I don’t even know if I’ll achieve that since I’m canceling practice times to be with him.
“Where are the restrooms?” I ask abruptly.
He blinks, leaning back from where he’d sat forward in his seat, as if he couldn’t help moving closer to me, even with the cameras in the room. “Out the door and down the hall to your left.”
“I’ll be right back.” I swivel the chair around and hop out, following Jaewoo’s directions.
In the bathroom, I splash cold water onto my face, staring blankly at my reflection.
What is wrong with me? Why am I getting so emotional?
It’s just that, I can feel myself falling harder and harder for Jaewoo, and at the same time the countdown clock is ticking, for the showcase, for Halmeoni’s surgery, for when I leave Korea. I just feel so overwhelmed.
When I get back, Jaewoo’s no longer in the room. Instead, Sun sits on the leather couch.
I hesitate, unsure if I should leave.
“Why are you standing by the door? Come inside. Sit down.” He says the words politely, in jondaemal, but his tone sounds more like a command than a request.
I sit down on one of the swivel chairs across from him.
“Jaewoo went down to pick up the food,” he explains.
I nod, placing my hands on my knees. Silence ensues, with him just looking at me, his expression unreadable. Of the four members, he’s the one I know the least about.
“I’m Jenny,” I say, scrambling to fill the silence. “We’ve never met formally. I’m a classmate of Jaewoo’s.”
“Jaewoo’s never brought a classmate to the studio before. You must be special to him.”
Usually such kind words would be accompanied with a smile, but Sun’s expression gives nothing away.
“He’s been a good friend to me,” I say carefully. “I transferred to SAA from a school in LA because of a family situation. It would have been hard to adjust to a new school, if it weren’t for him.”
“Jaewoo’s a good kid. Responsible, kindhearted, besides being incredibly talented.”
I nod vigorously.
“He means so much to a lot of people,” Sun continues, “not just to his family, of course, but to everyone here at Joah. He started training at the company when he was twelve years old. It’s been difficult for him, away from his family for all those years. But he kept on working hard. He’d spend hours in the studio training his body and voice.
“Everything he has now, he’s earned through hard work and dedication. He’s in a good place, and his talent will only bring him more opportunities, bring him more fans who will support him. He has a bright future ahead of him. It would be a shame if he lost it all now.
“And he could, if he’s not careful. It only takes one mistake.”
I can hardly breathe; it’s like my whole body has frozen over.
“A few months in Korea,” Sun says. “What a fun time for you, an adventure. It’ll be a good memory when you return home.”
Standing, he nods at me. “XOXO was meant to record a radio show today, did you know? But we had to cancel because Jaewoo said he couldn’t make it. How odd, that he’d back out of something we’d scheduled weeks in advance. I have to go make apologies on behalf of the group. Of course that’s my job as the leader, to protect the members. I’ll always protect them, even from themselves.”
By the time Jaewoo returns, Sun has left. I follow him to where he’s laid out the takeout food on a table in the kitchen. He’s ordered everything I’d asked for: jjajangmyeon, a chocolate-fudge sundae, and both breakfast and dessert waffles because he wasn’t sure which kinds I wanted.
A few trainees walk in and join us for the meal. I listen and laugh and pretend like everything’s fine.
Afterward, Jaewoo walks me to the lobby.
“Thanks for coming by today,” he says. “It was good to see you. Sorry I haven’t been around—”
“Jaewoo,” I interrupt, Sun’s words still ringing in my mind. “I don’t want you to . . . pass up opportunities because you, I don’t know, think you’re being a bad boyfriend.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Like today. You should have gone to the radio show.”
He frowns. “How do you know about that?”
“I just don’t want you to . . . to risk your career because of me.”
“What are you . . . that’s not . . .”
He reaches for me and then realizing what he’s doing, drops his hand. Across the lobby, the receptionists are watching us. A look of frustration passes over his face. “I don’t know what this is about, but you don’t have to worry about my . . . career. I know what I’m doing. I know what I want.”
My heart is racing and I feel on the verge of tears. “I’ll text you when I get back to the dorms, okay?”
He watches me a second, and then finally nods. “Okay.”
I leave before he says anything more, catching a cab and crying the whole way back to the dorms.
