room and a bathroom in the corner. Four men are sitting around the table drinking, and on the far right, it’s really Taein.
It seems strange that there are not more people here, that everyone isn’t staring at him rapturously. I am not hallucinating—his skin is glowing, his face is smaller than I expected—his perfect face, which I stare at every night on the screen, is so close to mine I could reach out and cup it with my hands.
“Come on, Ara,” says Kyuri, and she pushes me in until we reach the table and then plops me down next to Taein.
I bow and blush bright red up to my roots.
“You left so fast I was going to get offended, Kyuri,” says one of the guys, who is wearing a striped T-shirt and looks around Taein’s age.
A guy on the other side says, “Yeah, I didn’t realize you were that popular, that you can’t sit here for ten minutes straight.” He has a round face and bad skin and his expression is unkind. “This place is getting too cocky.”
“I went to get my friend, who is a huge Taein fan!” says Kyuri merrily. “Not to another room, silly.”
“Ugh, seriously, a fan?” says the guy in the striped shirt. “He hates fans.”
“No I don’t,” says Taein quickly, reaching over and mock-punching him on the shoulder. He turns and gives me a wide smile, but I can tell he is on his guard now.
“So what’s your name?” says Taein’s giant hulk of a manager, turning toward me. His wide face is marked by splotchy acne, and I recognize him too, from all the reality TV shows. He’s been with Crown since before their debut. All the stories that have ever been told about him—usually on radio rather than TV—come immediately to mind. He used to hoard food in his room and pretend he didn’t have any when the kids were going hungry after practicing all day and had used up the ten-thousand-won food budget for the day. And one time, he forgot to pick them up from the airport because he was too drunk and they actually had to take a taxi home with their own money (when they were not making any money yet).
I wonder how they can stand to be around him now, after all that heart suffering he put them through when they were struggling and poor.
“Her name is Ara,” says Kyuri. “She is mute.”
“What?” There are yelps from around the table and I flush more.
“I’ve never met a mute!” says one of the friends. “Wow, this room salon gets more and more interesting every time I come here. How is she supposed to talk to me when she’s mute?”
“Body language, you idiot,” says the tall one, cracking himself up. “She must be fluent in several dialects.”
For all the times I imagined meeting Taein, I wonder at myself, why I didn’t prepare more for this. Hot tears are building up in my eyes when the door opens and Sujin walks in.
“They told me you were in here!” she says gaily to Kyuri. “Hello, everyone!”
The men cast a glance over her and ignore her. Then she sees me and Taein.
“Ara?” Sujin says when she sees me. “Oh my God!” Instantly, she understands what is happening and hurries to sit down next to me. She pinches me and starts squealing.
“What the fuck,” I hear the tall guy mutter. Then he presses the buzzer on the table and a waiter pops in. “Call the madam,” he says. Everyone is quiet suddenly, and Kyuri seems agitated.
It only takes a minute for the manager, dressed in all black, to open the door and slide in quietly. “Hello,” he says, bowing deeply. “Is something the matter? How can I fix it?”
The tall guy motions to him. “I said, call the madam. Not you. I don’t know you.”
“She is actually not in today but I am sure I can help you. Shall I clear the room?” The manager looks at Kyuri, and I can see that he is trying hard to protect her