Shine

by Jessica Jung

  “It is. And I’d like for you to be there.”

  I nod, tears forming in the corners of my eyes as Appa reaches out his hands and pulls me into his chest. “We’re going to be okay, Rachel. Everything is going to be okay.” And for a moment, I let myself believe him.

  * * *

  A week later I’m smiling as Appa walks across the stage at his graduation, beaming as he accepts his law school diploma. He waves at me and I wave back—but, unfortunately for me, he can’t see me. All he can see is the camera that’s streaming video of the ceremony, which I’m able to watch due to in-flight Wi-Fi. Because—surprise!—the day after Appa invited me to his graduation, DB announced they were sending us on a last-minute promotional tour for “Summer Heat” in Toronto.

  That’s right. Me, Jason, and Mina. Together. For five straight days.

  The thought of spending that much time with Jason made my heart drop into my stomach, but there was no way to say no to DB and still expect them to debut me.

  So here I am.

  Mina insisted on flying over on her dad’s corporate jet, and it’s even more luxurious than the one Leah and I flew in to Tokyo. We’re all sitting on full-length velvet sofas, and everyone has their own pair of thickly padded monogrammed slippers, along with silk eye masks and wireless headphones.

  Mina is in the yoga studio at the back of the plane, having a lesson with her personal instructor, while Mr. Han, who’s accompanying us on our trip, is sitting at the wine bar, a glass of merlot in his hand and his headphones clamped tight over his ears, tapping away on his iPad. I’m hunkered down in my seat, a stack of extra-credit homework piled on the table in front of me (that, plus the fact that we’re on a two-week summer break from school at the moment, is the only way Umma agreed to let me go on this trip). Normally, I’d breeze through my English assignment, but this one is turning out to be a bit more of a challenge—

  “You really couldn’t leave the Shakespeare at home?” Jason says, plopping down on the sofa next to me, spooning up a huge mouthful of chocolate soufflé. Jason clearly didn’t adopt the same “avoid at all costs” plan that I did after our disastrous night at the pojangmacha. If anything, it’s like he’s gone out of his way to always be around—unfortunately, the sweet, sensitive, boom-box-holding, promposing guy I dated is gone and I’m stuck with the cocky, snarky guy I met outside the trainee house a couple months ago.

  I ignore him, turning my eyes back to Macbeth’s big soliloquy.

  “I suppose you do have a thing for dramatic storytelling,” he says. “Though I’ve always found his plays to be a bit of a drag. Do you even understand what they’re saying? Or do you just pretend to understand and look everything up on SparkNotes later?”

  “Can you please just let me focus?” I snap, losing my cool.

  He takes his time licking the chocolate from his spoon before dropping it in his empty bowl with a loud clatter. “Oh, sorry.” He lifts his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Were you trying to concentrate?”

  I suppress the urge to throw my textbook at his head.

  Suddenly, Jason looks at me, his expression sheepish. “Rachel, I really am sor—”

  But he quickly turns away as my phone pings with a Kakao message, and I pick it up, grateful for another excuse to ignore Jason. I look down and see that Appa’s sent me a selfie of him holding his law school diploma with a big cheesy smile on his face.

  Your old man’s finally graduated!

  My heart squeezes and I type back quickly.

  I’m so proud of you!

  I sigh and lean back in my seat, wishing I could be there with him. I settle for sending as many heart emojis as I can find. He deserves them all. He’s worked so hard—hustling to night classes after long days at the gym and keeping it all a secret from Umma and Leah, just so he doesn’t get their hopes up. I wonder if he’ll finally tell them now that he’s graduated, or if he’ll wait until he secures a job. Knowing Appa, it’ll probably be the latter.

  Almost by reflex my hand reaches for my phone again, wanting to share the good news with Akari—but my fingers curl up into a fist before I even start typing the message. Between practice and school and Jason, we have barely spoken in weeks.

  I mean, the last time I saw her, it was like I was talking to a stranger.

  It was last weekend and Yujin called me into her office. Akari was already there, watering the plants on the windowsill. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to sit on Yujin’s couch and eat Pepero and drink banana milk and talk to her for hours, just like when we were kids. I wanted to tell her about Tokyo and Jeju and Kang Jina and Jason and even those girls at Lotte World. But before I could say anything, Yujin grabbed me.

  “Your song with Jason and Mina has been such a hit, DB is sending you to Toronto to promote it!” Yujin announced. “You’re going international!”

  “Wow, what great news,” Akari said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You must be so excited.”

  “Excited. Yes.” I forced a laugh, pumping my fist in the air. “So excited! Woo!” There’s no way I could tell Yujin what I was really feeling. At best, she would tell me to suck it up and not let Jason stand in the way of my career. At worst, she would go to Mr. Noh herself and have me kicked out of the program. So I smiled until my cheeks ached and let Yujin toast me with a glass of sparkling raspberry juice.

  It wasn’t until later, as Akari and I were leaving Yujin’s office, that the smile slid off my face. I turned to her, biting my lip. “Akari, listen, I need to tell you something.”

  She hesitated outside the door. “I should really get back to training…,” she said, looking down the hall.

  “Please?” I begged her. “I need to catch up with my best friend. There might even be some free food in it for you.”

  She turned to me, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’m not the one who can never say no to free food, goof.”

  I clasped my hands under my chin, giving her my best puppy-dog eyes.

  “Okay, okay.” She laughed. “Ten minutes. You know, I have something I wanted to talk to you about too—”

  “Rachel Kim!” A voice rang out in the hallway, and we both turned to see Grace marching toward us. “You better be prepared to lose a few more inches off that thigh gap! Fitting room! Right now! And do some jumping jacks on the way.”

  I turned back to Akari. “I’m sorry. I guess I… have to go.” I said, my voice laced with guilt.

  “Right,” she replied. But her voice sounded flat, hollow. “Of course. We all have important things to do.”

  “I’ll text you tonight?” I said hesitantly, but she was already walking away and didn’t seem to have heard me.

  We haven’t spoken since.

  I scroll through my phone, looking at the days’ worth of messages I’ve sent her, all unanswered. Tears unexpectedly fill my eyes. Since the day Akari came to DB, we’ve been best friends. Our lives have always been hectic, but we would find time to catch up between training sessions, and at night we’d stay up texting each other. I know I’ve been busier than ever recently, but if anyone should understand that, it’s Akari. That’s just how it is when you’re a trainee. But ever since this whole song thing started, it’s like there’s this wall between us and I don’t know why.

  My phone beeps again and I look down.

  I love you too, daughter.

  “Everything okay?” Jason’s looking at me, his expression softening. He seems to have noticed the shift in my mood. For a moment, I contemplate showing him Appa’s photo. “You know,” he says, before I can reach for my phone, “Macbeth isn’t really that complicated. Just the story of an innocent guy who gets fooled by a pretty girl.” I see a flash of hurt in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by his signature cocky smile as he jumps up and heads over to the PlayStation console on the other side of the plane.

  I blink. Moment gone.

  Rolling my eyes, I jam my headphones onto my ears, dialing up the volume and blasting Lemonade, l
etting Queen Bey reel me in before I lose my mind.

  * * *

  We’ve barely touched down in Toronto before we’re sucked into a nonstop whirlwind of hair, makeup, and outfit changes. “We’ve got a solid list of press and performances lined up for you three here, and then we head north to perform at a music festival,” Mr. Han says, running through our schedule. “By the end of this tour, everyone in the country will know your names.”

  “I’m sure everyone already knows our names,” Jason says. A confident grin spreads across his face. “Now they just won’t be able to forget them.”

  It’s day four of the tour, and the three of us are in a brightly lit studio, filming an interview for a local morning talk show. The host is a middle-aged man who reminds me of our media trainer at DB. All grease and sleaze, only with whiter teeth and an uneven spray tan. Mina and I are perched on stools in leather jackets and camo skirts while Jason sits between us in an armchair, decked out in coordinating camo pants and a black tee. It feels like there are cameras on us every hour of the day, but truthfully, I can’t keep track of them all. Maybe it’s because all my energy is going into avoiding Jason when Mr. Han has us practically glued at the hip, or maybe it’s because of the kinds of questions the interviewers insist on asking Mina and me.

  “Mina and Rachel,” the talk show host simpers at us, and I have to clench my face muscles to keep from wincing. “Who takes longer to get ready for a show?”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes, and beside me I can feel Mina stiffen. It’s been like this all week. Just yesterday during a radio show, a fan had called in to talk to us.

  “Rachel, your English is so good,” they had said. “You must be really proud of that!”

  “Well… I’m from America,” I had answered with a polite laugh in my voice, but inside I was boiling. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard “your English is so good!” on this tour, I’d probably have enough money to buy my own private plane.

  At least it’s better than the female magazine reporter who couldn’t stop mooning over Jason. We were in the DB suite at the Four Seasons hotel in downtown Toronto on our first day, and she was practically drooling, asking question after question about his meteoric rise to success and how he continues to challenge himself creatively. When Mr. Han stepped in and suggested she direct some questions to me and Mina, she could barely tear her eyes away from Jason before asking us if we ever fight over who gets more attention from him.

  I open my mouth now to respond to the host’s question with DB’s preapproved answer (We get ready together, of course, like all best friends do!), when Jason puts his hand on my leg and flashes a quick half grin my way.

  “I think I’ll take this one if you don’t mind,” Jason says, turning toward the host. “The answer is… me!” The host laughs appreciatively, flashing his too-white teeth, as Jason continues. “I am obviously the most high-maintenance member of this group. Especially when it comes to my skin-care regimen.”

  The host laughs again as Jason mimes scrubbing his face in the mirror, but he quickly gathers himself. “Jason,” he asks, “what’s it like being back in your hometown?” A somber look covers his face. “Does it make you think of your mother more than usual?”

  Beside me I can hear Jason’s breath hitch in his throat as he’s totally caught off guard. Interviewers rarely bring up his mother. I look over at him and my heart immediately swells. His face is open and vulnerable—it’s the Jason that played me his original song in the music room, the one who held my hand on the plane back from Tokyo.

  But he recovers in a flash, clearing his throat and smiling widely. My heart snaps shut. “It feels great to be home,” he says, expertly dodging the question. “There’s no place like Toronto! I only wish we had more time here. We’ll be heading to New York City soon for the second leg of our tour.” He glances meaningfully in my direction. “It’s another special place for us because it’s Rachel’s hometown.”

  Mina and I swivel our heads to look at him, both of us trying to mask our shock. New York? No one told us we were going to New York.

  “How exciting!” the host says. “I’m sure all your fans in New York are dying to meet you. What a wonderful surprise for them!”

  It’s a surprise all right, and not just for the fans.

  After the interview wraps up, Mr. Han comes up to us. “Rachel, Mina, I’ll need your passports for some more paperwork before we head to the States,” he says, all business.

  I stand there, unable to move. “Our passports?” I say slowly. “But no one ever told us—ow!” I cry out as Mina discreetly stomps down on my toes with her heel.

  “Oh yes! Seeing that your song is doing so well, we decided to add another city to the tour,” Mr. Han says, rubbing his hands together. “The fans have really been loving you three. So after your performance at the music festival in Brantwood tomorrow, we’re flying to New York!”

  Jason grins, giving Mr. Han a fist bump. “I’m so stoked. I haven’t been to New York in forever.”

  Mr. Han grins back. When Mina and I don’t react right away, he looks at us, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. It’s an unwritten rule that K-pop trainees aren’t permitted to complain about anything they’re asked to do. Not only that, but we’re expected to be thankful for everything—for extra-long practice sessions, for punishments doled out to us in the hallways, for the strict diets enforced on us, and especially for surprise trips to New York City. “Aren’t you thrilled? This is great news.”

  Mina opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but quickly closes it again. She smiles widely instead and says, “Of course I’m thrilled! I’ve always wanted to go to New York!”

  She laughs, clapping her hands together.

  “I knew you would be excited!” Mr. Han says, his face relaxing as he joins in her laughter.

  New York. I should be thrilled, like Mina and Jason. But at this moment all I can think about is everything K-pop has asked of me: move across the world to a new country, miss your dad’s graduation. Train 24/7. Never stop smiling. Even when you have to break up with your boyfriend. The one boy who got it. Who knew what this life was like. Whose dreams were your dreams. I’ve dreamed about going home for years—but now, in this moment, I don’t see home. I just see another thing that K-pop is asking of me. Go to another city, with no notice and no say. I should be jumping up and down with joy, but it just doesn’t feel the way I thought it would. Nothing does.

  All three of them turn to face me, and I quickly convert my face into a bright smile, beaming at them like they’re all my very best friends, just like the rest of the world believes.

  “That really is amazing news,” I say. “A dream come true.”

  Nineteen

  “According to Google, Brantwood is a small, upscale resort town north of Toronto, famous for its Blue Mountain summer music festival,” Leah recites as we FaceTime the next morning.

  I groan as I brush my teeth. I couldn’t sleep last night, so around 5:00 a.m. I gave up and called Leah, who’s been catching me up on her K-dramas and reading me facts about Brantwood for the last hour.

  “It should take about three hours to get there from your hotel,” she chirps happily. “Three hours in the car with Jason! You’re so lucky.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s me.” I haven’t told Leah about anything that happened between me and Jason, of course. As far as she knows, we’re still just the best of friends who take her on day trips to Japan.

  I pick up my phone and head to my suitcase, grabbing a pair of slouchy sweatpants and an oversize orange T-shirt. “Unni, omg!” Leah’s voice shouts over the phone.

  “What?”

  “Isn’t that the T-shirt you wear when we stay in and watch movies? You need to put on something cuter!”

  “What, stop! No. It’s fine. Mr. Han said we can dress down for the car ride,” I say defensively. “Besides, it’s comfortable and I’ve spent the last four days in heels and tight skirts.”

 
; “Okay,” Leah says skeptically, raising her eyebrows.

  She looks ready to start another lecture on the importance of grooming, so I quickly change the subject. “Hey, aren’t you going to Everland today? Umma said some girls from school invited you.”

  Leah’s eyes swivel to the side of her head. “Oh, um. I was going to go, but… I’m… not. Anymore.”

  I frown at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” she says slowly. “Everyone was planning on sleeping over here afterward. But then they found out that you weren’t gonna be here and…” Her voice trails off. “It’s fine! Maybe you and I can go when you get back?”

  There’s a lump in my throat, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep the tears at bay before I can answer. “Of course! The minute I get home, it’s you, me, and the T Express.”

  This of course sends Leah into a delighted monologue of all her favorite Everland rides, and after a few more minutes, I can hear Umma telling her to hang up and do her homework. I end the call and head downstairs, quickly stuffing two chocolates that were left on my hotel pillow into my tote bag, thinking I’ll eat them in the car later.

  As I near the lobby, I spot Jason only a few feet away, pacing by some windows, talking on the phone. I groan inwardly. I was hoping he wouldn’t be here yet, but I guess I’m not the only one who couldn’t sleep. I’m about to sneak past him so he doesn’t notice me, when suddenly I hear his voice, tense and angry as he grips his phone to his ear. I quickly duck behind a huge potted plant.

  “I just don’t get it. The last time we saw each other was two years ago, and I could barely spend one day in Toronto. You didn’t even come to Seoul when I won—no, I know you had to work… I know… But tonight’s my last night here.”

  I hesitate. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but if I move now, he’ll see me. He stops just inches away, running his hand through his hair as he speaks.

  “What the hell do you mean you won’t step foot in Brantwood? Aren’t you supposed to be the grown-up here? You know what, don’t answer that.… Yep, I get it. Understood. Okay. Bye.”