Page 82 of Teach Me K-Pop

For the longest time, my only wish was for a simple, stable kind of life. I always liked for things to be quiet, organized, like the books on the shelves of my former library. I thought that was how I would thrive. But, even with my desire for calm, I also felt love should be loud. Not the demonstrative, just-for-show stuff that people on social media call ‘love.’ But loud in actions: like knowing someone so well they hear you before you say something, like their heartbeat is your constant companion, the soundtrack to your days and nights.

My life with Nikko isn’t simple, and that’s fine, because he’s so worth it.

Our relationship is quiet, a secret, and that’s perfect, because it lets us protect what we have.

Our love is loud in all the ways that matter.

In all the moments we share like this, just him and I.

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NIKKO

“Itook this picture,” Jase says, looking up at me from the CD case I just handed him.

“You did,” I confirm. “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t ask you before I used it.”

“This is your album?” he asks, still not quite sounding like he really believes what is happening right now. “This is what everyone will see when they get it?”

His reaction is making me anxious. I wanted him to be the first person to have and hear the completed project—the record, the packaging and photocards—but now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t have waited until the very end. Maybe it’s too much? Or I made the wrong decisions in what I chose to include without getting his permission.

“Yes?” I don’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it is. The possibility that I’ll have to go back to the company and tell them to scrap everything and start over is not something I had considered until this moment. “Do you hate it?”

“What? No. Of course I don’t hate it.” Jase lets out a breath slowly, then reaches out with his other hand to pull me closer to him. “You just… I took this picture. Of my dog.Ourdog. That is now the cover of your debut album. I’m shocked. In the best way.”

“I wanted it to be a good surprise,” I tell him as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and drop myself into his lap, relieved.

Turning the plastic case over, he skims the production information and photo on the back, another from his camera roll on the same day—this one of me looking out at the sea. “How did… Why?”

“Because I wanted to include you in every way I could.” I kiss his cheek, shifting a little to be able to see him better. “That was our first trip to Busan and the beach together, and it was amazing. That’s what I see when I look at it—the memories I have of us being there. To anyone else it will seem like a concept photo; a little dog on a big, secluded beach fits the title.”

“Lonemakes it sound like it’s sad,” Jase comments, his finger tracing the bold lettering in the corner that blocks out the glare from the sun in the image. “It’s not sad, is it?”

“No, it’s not sad at all. Itisa solo project, so I am alone, but you are missing something,” I hint. I am surprised he did not pick up on it already. “Think about the name RYSING, or the title of our first album. Kind of.”

His brow furrows as he tries to figure out what I mean. “I know that CNTRL was letters from the other guys’ stage names and RYSING is from everyone’s first names, but I don’t know what that has to do with…” He stops and gets a far away look in his eye, his mouth moving around his thoughts that have no sound. “You did not.”

“Did not what?” I smile, sure he’s got it now.

“Noel! You mixed up the letters.” As soon as he says her name, Noel comes running over like she’s been called. He holds the CD up for her. “Do you know you’re about to be very famous?”

“I don’t think she is impressed,” I laugh as she walks away again, realizing that we don’t have food or a toy for her.

“She never is,” Jase mumbles against my shoulder as I run my fingers through his hair.

“Do you want to listen to some of the songs?”

“Of course,” he says, leaning back into the couch cushions and getting ready to take it in. “Start with your favorite.”

I get up to start the music from my computer, sending it through the large, high-quality bluetooth speakers Iseul insisted we have. “I love them all, but this one I might love the most.”

Pressing play, I return to my seat on Jase’s lap, watching him close his eyes and start nodding his head to the beat. I cannot help but sing along, and I see him smile when he hears me. As the chorus approaches, the smile begins to fade, slowly, as the words continue.

When his eyelashes flutter open as the song ends, there are tears in his eyes, watery blue. “Be with me?” he asks, soft and nostalgic.

“I am with you,” I reply, like I always will.

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