Page 8 of Teach Me K-Pop

“How long have I been up? About 10 minutes longer than we’ve been talking,” I say. “I’ll get something to eat on my way to work.”

I can practically see him putting the pieces together of what this all means as he frowns at me.

“It is very early for you.” He’s very serious, scowling in a way that probably shouldn’t be considered sweet, but really is.

I nod. “Yes, but that’s how time zones work when we’re on opposite sides of the world.”

“I am sorry.” His voice is soft, the volume lower when he apologizes, which is something I’ve noticed over the course of our conversations. It doesn’t matter if it’s something that he can’t control, he still seems to feel the need to apologize for anything that may be an inconvenience. It makes me want to hug him, and I realize that’s probably not the right response.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” I mumble around another yawn, which likely makes what I’m saying much less impactful. “Our schedules are complicated. We work things out how we have to.”

Nikko starts to respond, but as has happened almost every time we’ve spoken, he’s called away by someone off screen. One of his brothers I assume. This time, though, is the first time I’ve actually heard them, yelling for “Ko” to come back.

“I have to go.”

“Yep, I heard. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Yes. Of course.” He reaches up, his hand almost ready to tap the button to end the call when he stops. Looking directly into the screen and making some shockingly intense eye contact, he says, “Please take care. Sleep. Get some good food. Okay?”

I have no idea what else I can do but agree. “Yeah. I will.”

Nikko smiles, bright and wider than I’ve ever seen and disconnects as I blink at the screen, wondering if that’s what it’s like to look directly at an eclipse.

I don’t think I can blame my now-cold coffee for the way my heart is suddenly racing.

???

“I like Japan and Thailand. Indonesia has good food,” Nikko tells me, his expression a little dreamy when he mentions the cuisine.

I sigh, too. Even though it’s ass o’clock in the morning, I will always get nostalgic about all the dishes I tried that I will never find suitable comparisons for. “Have you traveled outside of Asia?”

“Yes,” he says, then does what I have come to think of as The Pause again. That moment where he clearly checks out to mentally debate about something before he comes back to the conversation. I’m increasingly sure he’s not just looking for words, but I’m not going to ask him about it. At least, not yet. We’re getting there; each time we talk it feels a little easier, a little friendlier. But we’re not thereyet.

Nikko adjusts the red headband holding his damp hair off his face. I’m not sure if he’d showered recently or had been at the gym or what, but as usual, he seems to have done some sort of physical activity prior to our session. It’s more distracting than I would like it to be, the idea of him working out or playing basketball or whatever he might be up to. I find myself thinking about things like that more often during the day than I would admit to anyone who asked.

“Paris is pretty. I would like to visit London again.” He fidgets in his chair as he speaks, like he’s restless. “I like the history,” he adds.

“That was my favorite part of London, too,” I agree. “You’ve traveled quite a bit, yeah?”

He looks down as he replies, “Yes. My family. We travel often.”

“That’s great.” I’m always jealous of anyone who has the opportunity to explore the world on a regular basis. “Where else would you like to go?”

“I want to visit America again.” He brings his gaze to meet mine on the screen. His eyes are dark, but kind of sparkly, like there are literal stars in them. It’s a lot to take in. I’m honestly glad he doesn’t hold eye contact for long periods of time, because I’m not sure I could handle it. “But to stay longer. I have been to New York and Los Angeles, but for not many days.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had been to the States!” Which, obviously, because he hadn’t told me, so why would I know that? I’ve noticed I say a lot more stupid things during our sessions than I do with any of my other students. I blame the fact that I have to concentrate harder with the younger kids to figure out what they mean as they fumble their way through pronunciation and grammar. While it’s not entirely untrue, it’s also definitely not the whole story. “Were those trips recent? Or were you younger?”

“Not so long ago? It was last year. Not the same time, though. Different visits.” He starts to play with one of his earrings, drawing my attention to the dangling silver.

I’ve started to notice that his jewelry is different almost every time we talk, and he seems to be wearing accessories no matter what kind of clothes he’s got on—casual or athletic. It makes me wonder what he’d look like all dressed up. I try to focus again. “Last year; that’s pretty recent. Family trips?”

Nikko nods. “Yes. I was with them. That made me decide to practice English more.”

“Oh, being here with your family? Are you the only one learning English?”

“No. One of my brothers is very good at it. The best of us. He does a lot of talking when...” He seems to stop himself, mid-thought. “When we travel. I wanted to be able to help him.”

I smile, charmed by his thoughtfulness. It’s a common theme any time he talks about his family. “That’s very kind of you.”

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