by Axie Oh
“Joah is XOXO’s label, right?” Angela asks. “I can’t believe I’ll actually be able to go to school with them, though I’m sure they never come to classes. They’re probably so busy.”
“They’re here more than you would think. Joah Entertainment is practically down the street, and the CEO of the company is on the board of directors for the school.”
Oh, wow. I knew SAA was a performing arts school, but I didn’t know it had such a significant tie to the entertainment industry. But it makes sense why idols and trainees attend this academy. If it’s anything like LACHSA, the school is probably flexible when it comes to excused absences and regular core classes, prioritizing the performing arts.
“What about you, Jenny?” Angela asks.
For a second, I think she’s asking me if I’m excited to see XOXO, then I realize she means what am I studying at SAA.
“I’m a cello major.”
“That’s so cool!” Angela exclaims. “I’ve always wanted to play an instrument. But I just never had any talent. I mean, not that I have any talent in singing and dancing either.” She giggles, and I smile, appreciating that she can laugh at herself. “But it’s my dream to debut.”
“Debut?” I ask. In my deep dive into XOXO’s timeline, I’d learned they “debuted” only a year ago, though I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.
Gi Taek sighs, clearly disappointed that I’m lacking the basic knowledge of idol culture.
“Ooh,” Angela says, eager to share hers. “It’s pretty simple. After undergoing training with your company, which for me means learning choreography, taking voice lessons and language classes in Korean, Japanese, and English, as well as public speaking classes, a company will form a group based on a whole slew of factors—like branding and specific talents and voices. Then, they release the members’ profiles and photos online in order to build up excitement for the group. Finally, they’ll put out a single or an album. Once the group holds a showcase and starts promoting, they’ve officially debuted!”
I gape at her. If that’s simple, what’s complicated?
“Of course there’s more to it than that,” Gi Taek says, “but that’s the gist of it. And even if it is your dream to debut, it’s not a given.”
I compare their experiences to mine. “That sounds a lot like what I’m trying to do with my cello playing,” I say, thoughtfully. “Except I want to get into a music school instead of an entertainment company. And I want to join an orchestra instead of an idol group.”
“That’s exactly like it!” Angela says, beaming.
Gi Taek nods, giving me an appraising smile.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I check it to see my timer has gone off for my laundry. “I gotta run,” I say, then hesitate. It’s been awhile since I’ve actively made friends and I’m not exactly sure how to go about it.
And though I don’t necessarily need friends, seeing as I’m leaving at the end of the semester. Having them would make my time here at SAA that much more enjoyable.
Angela smiles. “I hope we have some classes together, Jenny.”
“Me too,” I say, then give a little wave. Before I turn toward the quad, I glance at the monitors. XOXO has finished their performance and a new group stands on stage, singing about youth and running toward your dreams with all your heart.
Eleven
Go Jenny, Year 3, Schedule: Monday to Thursday
8–8:10 Homeroom/Class Attendance
8:10–9:35 Period 1 or 4
9:40–11:05 Period 2 or 5
11:10–12:35 Period 3 or 6
12:40–13:15 Lunch
13:20–16:00 Arts
16:05–18:00 Study Hall
On Fridays, the schedule changes
9–9:10 Homeroom/Class Attendance
9:10–10:25 Arts
10:30–12:35 Study Hall
12:40–13:15 Lunch
13:20–16:00 Arts
Sunday night I go over my schedule for the one hundredth time. I have my own separate study hall when my classmates are taking Korean, English, science, and history. But I’ll sit with them in classes like computer, math, and PE, and of course all the music classes, which includes orchestra and solo performance.
I’m also enrolled in dance, an elective that I was sorted into last-minute due to my late transfer. I’m fine with it for now, but I need to talk to my counselor to see if I can switch it to a study hall. As a musician, I don’t lack rhythm, but my body doesn’t know that.
When my alarm goes off the next morning, Sori is already gone. I take my time getting ready, just now realizing the biggest pro of a uniform—I don’t have to decide what to wear in the morning.
In the hall, I’m immediately glad I showered the night before because there’s already a line forming outside the communal bathroom. I find an open space in front of the mirror to apply eyeliner and a sweep of gloss to my lips. I actually don’t know what the dress code is for makeup, but with so many cosmetic cases lined up in front of the glass, it can’t be that strict.
Since it’s the first day, an all-school assembly is being held in the world-renowned concert hall. As I make my way toward the building, I look around for the boy and girl I’d met in the student center last night, Gi Taek and Angela. I’m feeling jittery and anxious, my gaze darting across the quad, heart stopping every time my eyes land on a particularly tall boy. I try to tell myself it’s first-day-of-school nerves, first-day-of-school-in-a-new-country nerves. And while that’s a part of it, I know I’m also nervous about seeing Jaewoo. I just want to get this second meeting over with so that I can get on with my life in Seoul.
Inside the auditorium, students are already finding their seats.
“Jenny!” My heart stops, but it’s Gi Taek, heading over with Angela in tow.
“You’ll need to fix your tie,” he says, in place of good morning. “You’ll get demerits if one of the teachers notice.”
“I love your hair!” Angela says, gesturing to my side pigtails, which I mostly braided out of stress.
“Let’s take our seats before it gets too crowded,” Gi Taek says.
We enter through the double doors and I have to stop for a moment to take in my surroundings. The performance hall is huge with a high domed ceiling to maximize sound and acoustics. The stage is a gorgeous rosewood-mahogany color, the seats fanned out from the center for optimal viewing.
“I see three seats together!” Angela points to the back row. “Let’s take them before someone else does.”
I look for my roommate as we make our way over and spot her a few rows down to the left. She’s sitting apart from the rest of the students, with the two seats on either side of her—and in back and front of her—empty. Yet her isolation seems like a choice she made rather than for any other reason. She sits with her arms crossed, gaze straight ahead, giving off talk-to-me-and-you’ll-die vibes.
I’m immediately distracted when someone shouts, “Yah! Choi Youngmin!”
I whip my head in the direction of the doors where Youngmin has just waltzed through. The noise in the auditorium rises as kids start whispering to each other in excitement.
Youngmin skips to the front, joining a group of first year boys who give him high-fives.
Then Nathaniel steps through the doors, and it’s truly as if a celebrity has arrived, his hair artfully messed and his tie askew. It’s strange to see him in real life, when I spent all weekend watching him in videos. I wonder if it’s just as weird for the students at SAA who’ve gone to school with him and the rest of the members of XOXO, to see their peers, maybe even their friends, achieve the dream they’ve wanted for so long.
Nathaniel takes the closest available seat to him in the section for Year Three and is immediately swarmed by girls.
I manage to tear my gaze away long enough to notice that Sori’s attention has shifted to the door. As if realizing this herself, she quickly looks ahead.
At 8:09 another student slips into the auditorium, but it’s not Jaewoo. T
hen another, and another. At 8:10 exactly, a teacher appears and shuts the doors.
Is he late? No, he would have come with his bandmates, if he was going to come at all. Maybe he’s decided to finish his diploma online. Or he’s doing some sort of promotional work overseas. K-pop idols do stuff like that all the time, right?
I’m so caught up in my own thoughts, I almost fail to notice the woman who walks onto the stage, taking her place behind a podium.
She introduces herself as the principal of Seoul Arts Academy, an institution that was established fifty years ago and has taught many prestigious alumnae, including a few names that get “oohs” and “aahs” from the students. She goes on to talk about the expectations the academy has of its students, which includes upholding the reputation of the school in conduct and character, as well as dedication to the arts above all things. She also mentions something called the “Senior Showcase,” which creates a stir of interest among the students.
“All seniors are required to participate,” Principal Lee informs us, “whether as a part of an ensemble, collaborators, or soloists. This is the best opportunity to showcase your talent. Representatives from all the major universities will be in attendance, as well as a few from overseas, Berklee College, Tokyo University of the Arts, and the Manhattan School of Music.”
She goes on to say that recruiting officers from the major entertainment labels will also be in attendance, but I’ve stopped listening. A representative from MSM will be in the audience on the night of the showcase. If I can get a solo and put on a great performance, then I might be a shoo-in. I can feel my heart start to race. Everything is falling into place, the stars aligning.
“And now we’ll have our welcome address from this year’s senior class president.”
Until now, the students had been sitting politely through the principal’s address, but now they start to whisper excitedly to one another.
My heart, which had stuttered to a halt, picks up again.
A familiar figures steps from the wings. Jaewoo, Karaoke Boy, K-pop idol, and the senior class president of my high school.
Twelve
At one point during Jaewoo’s address to the student body, he looks directly into the crowd and I instinctively lower into my seat, which is unnecessary. He can’t see me, sitting as I am in the back row, farthest from the stage.
Unlike with the principal, I listen attentively to his speech. His low, smooth voice, accentuated by the mic at the podium, fills the hall. He’s not even saying anything that interesting—his words sound rehearsed—and yet everyone is enraptured, giving him their full and complete attention.
“Class president, lead singer of XOXO, handsome, and kind. What can Jaewoo not do?” Angela says dreamily.
Answer texts, I think to myself, though I don’t say it aloud.
“Did you know he writes all the lyrics for XOXO’s songs?” Gi Taek says.
That surprises me. Though I don’t know why it should.
“Sometimes another writer or another member works with him,” Gi Taek continues, “but he’s credited on all their songs.”
“No wonder he’s the most popular in XOXO,” Angela says.
This time I’m not surprised. Of course he would be.
Jaewoo finishes his speech to deafening applause, bowing before walking to the wings. The principal then comes back out to introduce the assembly’s guest, a pianist from Ewha Womans University, an SAA alumna a few years back, who performs a medley of piano arrangements from popular Korean dramas. Afterward, we’re dismissed to our homerooms.
Mine is in A Building, which is beside the student center, and attached to the cafeteria. Neither Gi Taek nor Angela are in my homeroom, but we do share a few other classes. We agree to meet for lunch before heading in opposite directions.
The hall outside my homeroom is already crowded, students calling out to each other and catching up after a long winter break. I spot Sori up ahead, noticeably alone again, and hurry in her direction.
“Jenny-nuna!” Youngmin barrels toward me, stopping short of collision. “How’s your first day of school going? If you ever need someone to point you in the right direction, just ask me!”
I blink at him, surprised that he’s talking to me. Though I don’t know why I should be, he was so friendly in the uniform store. I glance around and a few people are looking at me curiously, but most are grinning at Youngmin.
“Nice hair, Youngmin-ah,” someone says, and I notice that his hair color’s changed since I last saw him, now a midnight blue when before it had been cerulean.
“It’s going great,” I say, once his attention has shifted back to me. “And I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
“If it isn’t Jenny,” a low voice says in English. Nathaniel.
I shift to face him. I’m about to answer in kind when I notice Sori down the hall. At the same time, she meets my gaze. Quickly she turns away and enters a classroom.
“Is something the matter?” Nathaniel asks.
“No . . .” For a moment—before she looked away—there was an expression on her face that I hadn’t expected to see. Misery. “It’s nothing. What’s your homeroom?”
“Classroom B.”
“Mine too.” I sigh in relief. It’ll be nice to have one friendly face in homeroom.
“Ai—shh,” a voice groans from behind me. “It’s only the first day back and I’m already worn out.”
I freeze in place.
In front of me, Youngmin’s eyes light up. “Jaewoo-hyeong! We missed you this morning.”
“Ah, yeah, I meant to take the van with you, but Sun wanted me to listen to a track in the studio.”
“Your speech was inspiring,” Nathaniel says, deadpan.
“I wrote it for you,” Jaewoo replies, not missing a beat.
“Have you met Jenny?” Youngmin says.
“Jenny?”
I knew this moment would happen eventually, but I thought it would be somewhere less public, or at least come as a surprise so that I wouldn’t have time to freak out, like I am now.
I take a deep breath and turn around.
Our eyes meet. His widen slightly, and it’s like I can see a million thoughts flit across his face in the space of a second. Then his expression shutters. “Ah,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”
My heart sinks. I didn’t think he’d be happy to see me, not after the way he ignored my texts, but I didn’t think he’d pretend we’d never met.
“We ran into Jenny at the uniform store the other day,” Youngmin informs Jaewoo, who nods absently. “She’s from LA.”
“Is that right?” He turns to Nathaniel. “I have to go pick up something from the office.” He adds, as an afterthought, “Fix your tie. You’ll get demerits on the first day back.”
I think he’s talking to me, but then Nathaniel says, “It’s not like they’ll kick me out.”
“One can hope.”
And then he’s gone, walking down the hall without a backward glance.
“I’m going to be late to class!” Youngmin says. “Bye, Jenny, Nathaniel-hyeong!” He gallivants off in the opposite direction to Jaewoo.
“That’s our classroom,” Nathaniel points a few doors down. “Shall we?”
I follow him, though I’m not really paying attention to where I’m going. What just happened? In all the scenarios I’d imagined for our second meeting, I never thought Jaewoo would dismiss me. It’s like in this new setting, he’s a completely different person.
“Jenny?” Nathaniel’s waiting for me, sliding back the door to the classroom. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” I hurry forward.
Inside, the classroom is laid out with rows of desks facing a whiteboard. The teacher hasn’t yet arrived, so I check the seating chart on the podium at the front of the room. I’m seated a row from the back, next to the windows. As I approach my desk, I notice that all the seats are paired in twos, and my seatmate is none other than Sori. She appears as thrilled as I am at this tu
rn of events.
“Good morning,” I say. At least I can attempt a new start.
She turns her head to look out the window.
I sigh, pulling out my seat. On the opposite side of the classroom, Nathaniel is seated by a tall, lanky boy who is engaging him in animated conversation.
Everyone seems to be talking to their seatmates, except for Sori and me. I wonder if we could have been friends if I hadn’t bumped into her desk and read the message on that postcard.
A message that had been signed: XOXO. Which could either be a well-used sign off or . . . a secret hidden in plain sight.
I go through the possible candidates. Youngmin’s too young, I can’t see it. Sun maybe, but he wasn’t in the hallway just now, when I caught sight of Sori’s expression. Also, the end of the postcard was written in English, not Korean. Which leaves Jaewoo and Nathaniel. I look over at Nathaniel, who’s currently laughing and joking with his seat partner, the complete opposite of my roommate. Sori and Jaewoo share at least one thing in common: At any given moment, I have no idea what either of them are thinking.
My phone chirps in my pocket. I slip it out to see a text from my mom.
I paid the school your tuition. My scholarship only accounted for half. Let me know if there are any issues.
I text back, Okay. Thanks, Mom.
No, “hope you’re having a good first day of school,” but that’s not a surprise.
I’m about to put my phone away, when I hesitate. I open up my messages and scroll back to a few days ago, to when I sent the text message to Jaewoo that I was coming to Seoul.
Hey, so, I’m actually going to be in Korea for a couple of months to visit my grandmother. If you’re around, I’d love to see you.
The message is now marked “read.”
I blink a few times. But when did he read it? A few days ago or just now when he saw me in the hall?
Sori bumps me hard in the shoulder and I look up to see a girl standing in front of my desk, tapping her shoe against the floor.
