I race across campus, the voluminous skirts of the ballgown making it difficult to sprint full-out. Past the gates, I spot a taxi that’s dropping off late arrivals, catching the door and sliding inside. I don’t even have my wallet, but the taxi driver takes pity on me, especially when I tell him my destination: Severance Hospital at Sinchon.
He drops me right outside and I stumble through the automatic doors. It’s hectic in the lobby but everyone still stops and stares at the sudden arrival of a teenager in a red ballgown. I pick up my skirts and hurry to the nurse’s station.
“My name is Go Jenny. I’m looking for my grandmother. She was rushed to emergency surgery.”
“What’s your grandmother’s name?”
“Kim Na Young.”
The nurse picks up a tablet, checking the screen. “Eighth floor. Elevators are on the left past the station.”
I don’t wait for her to finish, reaching for my skirts. Outside the elevator, an incoming call appears on my phone. Jaewoo. I accept the call just as the doors to the elevator open.
“Jenny?” Jaewoo says, and it’s hard to hear him with the roar of music in the background. “Are you all right? Where did you go?”
Before I can answer, the call drops and the elevator arrives at the eighth floor.
Just as I’m stepping out, my cell phone pings with a flurry of texts, the topmost from Gi Taek: Jenny, where are you?
At the hospital, I quickly type back and send.
“Go Jenny-ssi?” A woman in teal scrubs stands before me. “The nurse downstairs called and said you were coming up.”
I pocket my phone. “I’m looking for my halmeoni. Kim Na Young. Is she okay? Is she all right? I was told to come immediately.”
The nurse’s eyes widen. “Oh, yes, she’s fine. Your halmeoni is actually out of surgery now.”
“She’s . . . fine?”
My knees give out and I collapse to the floor. The nurse crouches down beside me, one hand on my shoulder. “Poor child, you must have been so frightened.”
I sniffle. “Is she allowed visitors? Can I see her?”
“Yes. Your mother is with her.”
I let the nurse help me to my feet.
“Room 803,” she says and I nod, taking the last few steps on my own. Outside the room, I pause. The door is slightly ajar and I can hear Halmeoni and Mom talking softly inside.
I press my hand to the door only to hesitate when I hear a sob. It takes me a moment to realize it’s my mother. She’s . . . crying, something she hasn’t done since Dad passed away.
“You didn’t come,” Mom says. “I needed you, and you didn’t come.”
“Nae saekki,” Halmeoni is saying, “my baby. Eomma is sorry. I should have been there for you. I did wrong. Forgive me, forgive me.”
My mom is sobbing, heaving sobs, harder than I’ve ever seen her cry.
“You—You didn’t have the means to come, and I didn’t help you. But it’s been so hard, Eomma. I had no one.”
“You have me. You will always have me. And your daughter. Your beautiful daughter.”
“I’m so scared, Eomma. I drive Jenny to be stronger but sometimes I think I’m pushing her away. I just want to protect her.”
“Like I protected you? You’ve seen what a terrible job I did. Keeping out the people you love isn’t protecting them, Soojung-ah. Loving them. Trusting them with your heart. That’s all you can do.”
I step away from the door.
My phone buzzes in my pocket for the gazillionth time and I finally take it out. Why are my friends texting me so much? I’m grateful they’re concerned, but I’m a bit busy.
Gi Taek: Jenny, why aren’t you answering your phone?
Angela: Are you okay?
Sori: Which hospital?
Jaewoo: I called the clinic. I’m on my way.
Gi Taek: Jenny, this is serious. Are you somewhere safe?
I frown. What is he talking about? Then a series of links appear in quick succession, sent from each of them.
Angela: “BREAKING NEWS: K-Pop Idol Bae Jaewoo’s Secret Girlfriend.”
Gi Taek: “XOXO’s Bae Jaewoo Dating Scandal.”
Sori: “Bulletin Reveals XOXO’s Bae Jaewoo in a Relationship with Classmate”
With shaking hands, I click on the last link. It jumps to a popular gossip site, where the top trending article is this very one, complete with a huge, blown-up picture of Jaewoo and me.
I’d expected to see a paparazzi shot of one of the times Jaewoo and I were together in public, on the field trip, our date to the theater, or that afternoon at the noraebang. But instead it’s . . .
The sticker photo.
Unlike the article of Nathaniel and Sori’s, my face isn’t blurred, but visible, if not super clear due to the quality of the photo.
A text pops up.
Jaewoo: I’m here. Where are you?
I rush to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. Luckily no one gets on and it goes straight to the lobby. The doors open to chaos. Security guards are yelling as a dozen photographers with huge cameras point them at a single person standing at the center of the lobby.
Jaewoo.
He turns as the elevator fully opens, catching sight of me, slowly lowering the phone he holds to his ear.
The paparazzi follow his line of sight and it’s like the hounds scenting their prey, surging forward, held back only by the hospital guards.
Jaewoo walks swiftly in my direction. He’s still dressed in the suit from the showcase, though his tie is loosened and his hair is a mess, as if he’s run a hand through it multiple times.
Reaching me, he pulls me into a fierce hug, which I return with equal force. Behind us, the elevator closes, cutting off the noise from the lobby. Jaewoo releases me only to press the button for the highest floor.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. “How is she, your halmeoni?”
“She’s good. She was rushed into emergency surgery, but it went well.”
He sighs with relief, leaning against the elevator wall.
The numbers of the elevator increase as we ascend. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.
“I’m so sorry,” I say quickly, my words tumbling out. “I had the photograph in my wallet, but I must have dropped it. I was careless. It’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” Jaewoo says. “None of this is your fault.”
The elevator stops. We’ve reached the top floor of the hospital. Jaewoo takes my hand and leads me to the stairwell, up a single flight, pushing open the door to the rooftop.
The night air is balmy. A dry wind sweeps across the open space, catching the loose strands of hair that have fallen out of my bun.
Jaewoo takes off his suit jacket, and then loosens his tie entirely, slipping it over his head.
He moves to the edge of the roof, safeguarded by a wall and railing. I join him, looking down to where news vans are packed in among ambulances and other vehicles.
“You’d think they’d have more respect,” Jaewoo says, his voice bitter.
“How did the paparazzi manage to show up at the hospital so quickly?”
“They were waiting at the school and followed me when I left. I almost lost them—my cab driver had a bit of a daredevil streak—but they caught up to us near the hospital.”
He drags his gaze from the scene below. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I—” The answer isn’t so easy. My mind is a blur, my emotions all tangled up, and then a realization hits me.
“I was supposed to play a solo tonight.”
Jaewoo looks stricken. “There’s still time for you to do it.”
“No,” I say. “I can’t.” By now, they would have passed over my slot in the programming, and there was an intermission—people will have read the article. My solo was my ticket into MSM; now I have to go back to the States. The Philharmonic is my last chance. “It’s over.”
“Jenny—”
“What happens now?” I ask.
He must follow my train of thought because he answers, “My company will release a statement.”
“They’ll deny it, won’t they? Like with Sori and Nathaniel.”
“I—I’m not sure. But I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”
“Don’t,” I say sharply. Protect. It’s that word again. But I don’t want the people I care about to protect me, not when it hurts them. Jaewoo. Mom.
Jaewoo had been taking a step toward me, but he stops now, his expression one of hurt and confusion.
“Don’t protect me over the people you should be protecting, your bandmates, your family, yourself. Think of the people who have been in your life in the past, who will be in your life in the future.”
“Jenny, you are—”
“I’m leaving, Jaewoo. In two days. Less than that now.”
There’s a short pause, then he says, softly, “When were you going to tell me?”
And I know, suddenly, what I have to do, what I was trying so hard not to accept. I am leaving, and even if I leave in two days or a month from now, the end results will be the same.
Jaewoo’s too good, he’ll never break up with me, especially not after this scandal. He’ll do everything in his power to protect me.
If anyone’s going to look out for his best interests, and mine, it’ll have to be me.
“Does it matter?” I say coolly. “We would have broken up in the end.”
He winces. “Is that right?”
“Jaewoo, there was a reason it took so long for us to get together. Our lives are too different. You’re famous, an idol, and I want to go to music school in New York City.”
I think of my mother’s words, just a few days ago. She was right. I just didn’t want to hear it. “I’m going back to my life. You should go back to yours.”
“You make it sound so easy,” he says harshly.
Now it’s my turn to wince. “I’m sorry about the photograph. If your company can just deny it, as long as there’s no other evidence—”
“And damn, someone should have told me our breakup was inevitable from the start, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.”
“Jaewoo . . .”
“I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend because I thought our relationship would end in a few months. People don’t begin relationships thinking they’ll end.”
“No, people end relationships when they know they should have never begun in the first place.”
“Do you really believe that?”
No, I want to say. I want to tell him that these past two months with him, these past four months in Seoul, with all of our friends, have been wonderful.
But I’m in too deep, it already feels like I’m tearing out my heart to say these words, but I have to, because I’m leaving, and it’s better to hurt him now than to tell him what I really want to say, that I think I’m in love with him.
“Yes.”
The door to the rooftop opens.
“Jaewoo.” His manager stands silhouetted by the light inside. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Why didn’t you answer your calls? It’s a circus downstairs. Security is giving us an escort out the back. We have to go.”
Ji Seok notices me then. “It’s best if you leave alone.”
Jaewoo picks up his jacket, where he’d dropped it on the ground. As he passes by me toward the door, he pauses. I look up into his face, holding back my tears.
“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says with one last devastating smile, even though I just broke his heart and mine, “you were beautiful tonight.”
A few seconds later the door shuts with a bang, and he’s gone.
