Page 29 of Teach Me K-Pop

“Ugh,” I grumble. I’m not going to let him tease me about the heart-eyes again. “No. Like, heknows. About the group. That I’m an idol.”

“And?” Lux gets up and comes to drape himself over me. “I can’t believe it took this long for that to happen. It was really kind of weird he didn’t know from the beginning. Like,how?”

I shrug as much as possible from the position I am in. “I don’t know. I think he found out from some students.”

“Okay…”

I honestly don’t know how to explain everything that just happened with Jase. The beginning of our talk was so awkward that I wanted to disappear—to run away and hide somewhere and cry, because I knew something was wrong, and I was sure it was my fault. But by the end, I had wanted to run for an entirely different reason, just to have a way to release the sparks of hope and excitement bubbling up in me so fast I felt like I should be floating.

All of the conversations that Jase and I have had have been good for me in so many ways, but I was always just a little bit worried about what I shouldn’t or couldn’t say. The anonymity was nice. We are all so far removed from “normal” relationships at this point that it’s difficult to imagine what it would be like to have someone just know us, as we are. The fact that I call Lux and the others by their stage names most of the time seems like a testament to that. They are my best friends, my brothers, my family, and there is still this distinction—we are who we are because of RYSING.

“I liked that he just knew me as Nikko, the student taking some English lessons from him. It was nice. He didn’t expect anything from me. I didn’t feel like I had to be ‘on’ or any specific version of myself. I was just a guy, talking to another guy.” I struggle to turn over under Lux’s weight. He is not heavy, but when he goes into human blanket mode, he makes any kind of movement difficult.

He relents and rolls off of me, but still gets up in my face as we lay there looking at each other. “You mean a guy talking to a guy that you like.”

I close my eyes, like I can make him go away if I just pretend he’s not there.

“Are you afraid it is going to change what he thinks about you?” he asks, when I don’t say anything.

Yes. Of course I am. No matter how much I want to trust someone, the level of fame that we have makes it so difficult. The hundreds of pages of non-disclosure agreements that we sign, the legal threats we hear about, the rules about what we can and can’t say, have all made it very clear to me that I can’t just accept that everyone has my best interest at heart. I have to assume that everybody wants a piece of me, a piece of us. Because of who we are—whatwe are. Idols. Celebrities.

“I wasn’t sure that he thought anything about me,” I admit, and that was the worst thing I could have imagined—that I never crossed his mind between our calls. That everything we had was contained in those hours on the screen, just talking, because that’s what he’s being paid to do. But now that he knows and I can speak freely, I feel differently. The way we looked at each other before our last call ended, those things we said—they meant something. I know they did. “But I think I might have been wrong.”

Lux’s fingers slip through my hair. It’s one of his favorite comforts, so he’s quick to do it for others. It reminds me of the way Jase is always messing with his hair while we chat. I know it is often early when we talk and sometimes he has just rolled out of bed. I like that he feels relaxed enough with me to not make a big deal out getting ready or trying to show off. He is just Jase. I am just Nikko.

More than once I’ve wondered about him waking up, what it might be like to see him first thing when I opened my eyes. Does he sleep in the same t-shirts he wears when we talk? Does he slap at the alarm when it goes off or just pop out of bed like Chita does, as though he has been tightly wound on a spring just waiting to be released?

“’Ko, you said you like talking to him. That he seems happy to see you, too, right?” Lux moves his fingers to my jaw, gently pressing until I look at him. “You’re the best. Why would you think that he wouldn’t see what everyone else does?”

“You know I worry about everything. I do like him. So much.” I have another thought and suddenly everything is blurry, and I’m blinking against the tears that just clouded my eyes. “What if, when the contract is up, I never see him again?”

“Nikko, no.” Lux huffs as he flops across me again. Like he’s some kind of reptile or whatever animal it is that needs warmth to function, he seems to process everything better when he’s actively basking in someone else’s body heat. Thankfully, all of the members are fairly tactile, and there is no shortage of casual affection, but most often he uses me as his human body pillow. It’s fine; I have never minded, especially when I’m in some kind of emotional turmoil. “Why do you think the worst? Are you dying? Is he dying?” He pauses for half a second, but doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “No? Then there’s always a possibility.”

“This isn’t a romance novel. The stars aren’t going to align—or whatever happens in those—and somehow this becomes more than what it is. We write songs about that kind of thing, we don’t live it,” I tell him. It’s like all those fizzy feelings have vanished now that I’m away from Jase and reality is sinking back in.

Lux rolls his eyes. “But nobody would write songs about that if people didn’t want them. There’s something so romantic about that kind of hope. What a story, you know? Someone for everyone. Love wins against all odds.”

“What are you even talking about? I have a... crush,” I practically shudder at the word. It seems so juvenile and not all-encompassing enough for the feelings that I keep having. “And it’s on a guy who is literally halfway across the world. He has a whole life outside of our video calls. When this is over, we’ll go our separate ways. He’ll be someone Iusedto talk to.”

Even as I say it, I know it is not true. He will always be the one that I think about, even years from now, the first person to make me feel so many things I never had before. To show me that I am capable of giving someone more of myself than I expected—I prove that every time we speak. I just promised to give him more. I’ve already handed over little pieces of myself because I wanted Jase to have them. I didn’t ask for anything in return, because I’d been getting it all along. Those smiles of encouragement, the patient way he would wait for me to figure out what I wanted to say, or the freely given praise when he was really impressed. How was I supposed to not have feelings about all of that?

Twenty-three hours of my day were dedicated to being one specific thing, perfecting the way the world saw me—and the group. But for one hour, it was just me and Jase, something I had just for myself. Every silly conversation about the weather or whatever words I was practicing and trying to string together into sentences that made sense—had built something. Had given me an idea of what I could want, if things were different. IfIwas different.

“Give yourself a chance, ’Ko,” Lux murmurs, pulling me into a hug. “You’re amazing. I bet he thinks about you all the time. Because of who youreallyare. That’s the Nikko he knows. Maybe he’s talking to Kija right now about you, just like we’re doing. It could happen. Anything can happen.”

I know he is just telling me that to make me feel better, but it works.

Maybe anythingcanhappen. Maybe there is a version of my life where I can keep this—keep him—as long as I want to.

CHAPTER NINE

JASE

“Your hair is different!”

I have been on screen for approximately three seconds when Nikko notices. I’m kind of surprised, but also not. I know he pays attention. I know he can read me pretty well. I really should have expected he’d be quick to pick up on something like this, too. “Oh, yeah. I’m still not sure what I think.”

On a whim, I made an appointment right after our last conversation, feeling compelled to step up my game or something. Nikko always looks so good, no matter the time or the situation, and I’ve spent more than half of our conversations having just gotten out of bed or at the end of a long day, bedraggled like some kind of roadkill. Whatever is going on between us, he deserves to see something better from my side of the screen.

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