Page 59 of Fallen Starboy

The doctor puttered around his bedside, checking vitals, feeling his skin, checking him over with a satisfied murmur. I, on the other hand, was a wreck.

If I closed my eyes, I could still see the whole thing in real time.

The strange man heading right for us. The widening of Jun’s eyes as he registered the man heading right for us. The feeling of being smashed against his chest as we spun around. The way my lungs burst into flames trying to force air in and out as I hyperventilated. The blood running down the white shirt now sticking to his torso. The panic and fear that raced through me when he collapsed in my arms.

“You’re very lucky he took that bullet for you. With the height difference between you two, it would have likely hit you square in the forehead.”

Pujin stepped through the door, his face screwed up into a frown of disapproval. I hardly registered his presence enough to offer him a nod.

“I shouldn’t have sent you with the new guys.” He paced on the left of Jun’s bed, staring down at his boss as if waiting to be reprimanded. “I should have made sure you all were safe.”

“You were protecting Yejin, which is exactly where Jun wanted you, Pujin,” I whispered, hating that she was now curled up on the nearby chair, her hair in a messy bun, hugging her dad’s microphone like a lifeline. I didn’t have the heart to take it from her when she showed up holding it, with Pujin in tow. She looked so innocent, so sure of herself as she stepped up to her dad’s bedside and insisted he’d be fine with a little rest.

The doctor had thankfully not mentioned him being shot in front of her. All she knew was he got hurt at work.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Simmons?—”

“I’m not the one who got shot, Pujin,” I pointed out, wincing at the reminder. “You don’t owe me an apology for doing your job.”

My phone chose that moment to start singing, in the familiar tone of the label.Fuck me, when it rains, it pours.“I’ve gotta take this?—”

“Miss Ari? Please don’t go,” Yejin mumbled from her chair, still half asleep.

I settled back in my seat and nodded to her, smiling as best as I could. “I’ll be right here, Yejin.”

“Kay.” Her eyes drifted shut again and she smiled in her sleep.

I opened the phone just before whoever was on the other end of the line decided to hang up. “Simmons.”

“Rizzo, hey. How’s the starboy doing?” Of course. Brady, in Public Relations, was already abreast of the intel, and likely was calling to see how much of a pain the PR campaign was aboutto be. “And you, of course, dear. I hope you’re both resting and recovering well.”

“Jun took a bullet, you insensitive prick,” I spat, at my wits end and not in the mood to deal with his shit. “He’s in a hospital bed. I’m physically fine, thanks to him.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to come off like a jerk, dear,” he insisted, turning on his media blitz voice. “How is everything? Is there anything we can do for you?”

Code forhow are we planning to spin this shit show,of course.

“Keep the details to a minimum. They apprehended the shooter. His old label has already been implicated, but the company isn’t planning to release that, as the police have opened an investigation. The man has a track record, and the news will likely blow it up to twice the size it really is to make him look truly horrendous. Jun is stable, he took the bullet in the shoulder. But he’ll be out of commission for a while. That means the label will have to cancel his appearances for the next few weeks at least, and limit it to light work for a month or so after that, until his doctors clear him for return to active duty on the roster.”

“Have you notified the label?” I didn’t bother to respond with the obvious answer. I mean, fuck, come on, dude, how do you think you found out? “Sorry, that was stupid, obviously you did.”

“Listen, Brady, is there anything else important that I can help you with?” My eyes drifted to Jun, whose body was as still as a stone on the thin hospital mattress.

“Do you know who might fill his slots that the company announced today for a continental tour?”

I sighed. “Brady, I’m a liaison, not a manager. Maybe you should ask the label who they plan to fill his spot with.”

“Well, I tried that. They suggested you might have a few prospects you could mention to us, that way we can start reaching out to gauge interest.”

“You think I just walk around with a contact list full of Asian idols that I can whip out to pull strings from?” Tangled knots caught my fingers as I carded them through my loose hair in frustration. “Brady, I have no fucking idea who might be willing to sign temporarily and fill his slot while he recovers.”

“I might know a guy.”

I spun on my heel as Jun’s voice echoed around me, rough but strong, accompanied with a rouge-ish smile that melted me and had me blinking back tears. “You’re awake!”

He held his hand out as if he wasn’t sitting there with his other one in a sling, a bandage over a now-stitched gunshot wound. “Let me talk to him.”

I was too stunned to tell him no or insist that he rest instead. I just held out the phone for him to take from me, staring blankly as he brought it to his ear and smiled, clearing his throat.

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