Page 47 of Teach Me K-Pop

“There was a bookstore in Hongdae that I went to a lot. I think we could have met there. I’d get all lost in the aisles, and I wouldn’t notice anything around me until we were reaching for the same copy of a poetry anthology. But I’d forget about the book as soon as I saw you.” I smile, because it’s easy to see.

Nikko is grinning, too, like he enjoys this scenario. “Then what?”

“I’d probably get nervous and try to sneak off around the corner to watch you like a creeper,” I admit. I really never have figured out how to function like a normal human around people I find attractive, so it’s actually kind of amazing I’m doing as well as I have with Nikko.

He laughs. “A creeper?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” I chuckle. “If I managed to convince myself to be brave, I would’ve asked you to go get hotteok at a little place nearby.”

“I would say yes.”

“I would hope so. I know I’d ask for your number, maybe even try to hold your hand before we went our separate ways,” I muse.

A quick smirk flashes across his face. “I might try to kiss you.”

“Bold. I like that.” I’m sure he’s figured out over the past few days that, for now, I prefer to let him make the moves, to dictate what happens when. “What do you think?”

Nikko closes his eyes for a moment as he thinks. “A cafe in Insa-dong. I get coffee with a friend. Maybe Lux, but I would only know him as Yung-Sun then. I would tell him that I thought you were cute when I saw you. But you look like an American tourist, so I would not know you speak Korean. You would be able to hear what I was saying.”

I tilt my head, intrigued by this version of events. “I’d trip over my own feet if I heard anything like that. Especially from someone like you.”

“Someone like me? I am just a guy in a cafe,” he tells me.

I can’t help but laugh. “Nikko, you will never bejust a guyanywhere, in any situation. Even not famous.”

His perfect lips turn down some, not quite a frown, as he considers this. “You would not like for me to say those things?”

“I wouldn’t be able to believe you were talking aboutme.”

“Of course I would be. You know I think you are very attractive,” he says, like this is so obvious it’s ridiculous. “Would you tell me you knew what I said?”

Would I? The situation still seems so crazy that I’m not sure what I’d do. But we’re pretending, so anything goes, I guess. “Yes. I think I’d feel bad for accidentally overhearing. But I’d probably do something embarrassing like bumping into you and knocking one of our coffees over and would end up cursing or something that would let you know I did indeed speak Korean.”

Nikko snorts. “As long as it is not Sun’s coffee. He would be very upset.”

“Got it. Do not mess with Lux’s coffee.” I sit back a little more and keep thinking. “Maybe we could’ve met on a train to Busan. I always liked to go to the sea.”

“Are you sitting alone on the train?”

“Depends if Kija is with me. But we’ll say he’s busy, so yes, sitting alone.” There’s something that amuses me about bringing Kija into this, but if Nikko gets Lux, I can have a friend, too.

Shifting to move closer to me, Nikko asks, “What do you do on the train?”

“Sometimes I read, but I think this time I’m just staring out the window and watching the scenery like an actor in a k-drama that’s going through a break-up.” I look mournfully across the room, doing my best impression of an overwrought soap-style scene.

Nikko cracks up, just like I hoped he would. “I would have to sit next to you, because I would feel so bad for you.”

“I don’t want your pity companionship!” I yelp, all faux indignation.

He gasps, eyes wide. “But I would make you feel better!”

“I can’t really argue with that, so you win.” I let myself slide toward him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He sighs contentedly, so I do it again.

“After we met those times, would it be like this?” he questions in a whisper.

“Yes. I’d hold your hand on walks at Hangang Park and kiss you at every crosswalk. Go out for samgyeopsal and tteokbokki. Try to make ramen at home some nights and hope we don’t set anything on fire…” I stop talking, noticing that Nikko’s face falls, his expression a little unhappier with each thing I say. “What is it?”

“I want that,” he murmurs, like he’s afraid to say it too loud, to admit that a normal life has some kind of appeal to him.

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