Page 4 of Idol Lives
Tae Hyun had toured Gyeongbokgung Palace once during a school trip to Seoul before he became an idol. The memory surfaced as he first stood in the vast foyer of the Park family’s Bel Air mansion. As a child, the palace’s scale had amazed him. Its grandeur was a glimpse of a world beyond his own. Yet even as an idol, the lavish stages he’d commanded and luxury hotel suites he’d stayed in paled before the expanse of marble and gold displayed before him. He couldn’t name the architectural style, only that it radiated a cold opulence. Even the most extravagant destinations he’d seen felt quaint in comparison. It was the sort of wealth that built legacies handed down through generations. A slow ripple of unease rolled through him as the realization hit. He’d never truly known the world he’d entered by loving Jason.
Jason was too preoccupied by the funeral reception to notice Tae Hyun’s discomfort. That was understandable, but it still left Tae Hyun to navigate the sea of unfamiliar faces alone. He felt their curious eyes on him as he was led through the foyer to the grand, elaborate gardens that lay beyond. Seong Min and Seong Hyeon, ever watchful, shot him knowing glances. After all, they were outsiders, too.
So, with a barely stifled sigh, Tae Hyun slipped on his well-practiced mask and mingled. Years of performing had honed his smiles, polite nods, and carefully measured words. He took a few sips of champagne as a calculated indulgence to dull his rising anxiety. Losing control wasn’t an option, not with so many eyes intent on watching him for any sign of faltering. But they could watch him all they liked. Tae Hyun was born for the stage. He never faltered.
Tae Hyun’s anxiety finally melted away the moment Jason took his hand and led him from his father’s office. “All of this space was just for the three of you?”
Jason sheepishly nodded. “My father used to tell me stories of the tiny K-town studio he and my mother lived in when they first moved to the States. He claimed the whole place would’ve fit inside his office.”
Tae Hyun was no stranger to cramped quarters. He’d shared a tiny dorm room with five other trainees for years. He could easily imagine what that was like. “And then he built all this?”
Jason nodded again. “My father was an asshole, but he was undeniably brilliant in business. Ruthless, too.” He opened a door further down the hall. “This is the lounge,” he explained, ushering Tae Hyun inside.
With all its dark woods and polished gold and brass fixtures, the office may as well have been a boardroom. The lounge’s warm tones and vintage charm were much more inviting. Sleek leather chairs and a plush sofa sprawled beneath a teak-paneled ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the manicured grounds outside. And a chrome-accented bar anchored the far corner.
Jason made a beeline for the bar. “Want a drink?”
“Absolutely.” Tae Hyun grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to have soju, would you?”
“Do we ever.” Jason retrieved a familiar frosted bottle with a black and silver label from under the bar.
Tae Hyun’s eyes widened as he recognized the high-end brand. “Sabi?”
Jason smirked. “Sort of. Look closer.”
Tae Hyun squinted at the bottle, spotting the silver block lettering beneath the familiar crown logo. Sabi Brightstar Label. “Whoa. You have your own soju brand?”
Jason chuckled, pulled the cork cap, and poured a shot. “My father tried to buy the distillery outright. They refused, so he commissioned his own batch instead.”
Tae Hyun accepted the shot, wary of drinking room-temperature soju. He always drank it chilled. Then again, he always drank it cheap, too. But it slid down like silk, with barely a hint of burn and a touch of sweetness. “Incredible. Do they sell this?”
“Not a drop.” Jason grabbed a shaker and filled it with ice. “It’s exclusive to my father. He uses it for gifts–” He cut himself off with a sigh as he handed Tae Hyun his chilled soju. “He used to give it away. I should probably cancel the contract.”
Tae Hyun savored his next sip, the chill cutting out the burn entirely. “Are you sure? This is really good. How much is left?”
“Plenty.” Jason grinned as he found the Kingston bottle and poured himself a drink. “This bar is where my mother taught me to make her gin and tonics. Dad had the office. She had her lounge.” He downed the bourbon and poured another. “She used it for her bridge games, book clubs, and entertaining the wives of dad’s latest business conquests.” He topped off Tae Hyun’s soju. “But don’t let the relaxed vibe fool you. She ruined plenty of lives in here.”
Tae Hyun nodded, understanding well enough. He’d never met Jason’s parents. But an angry, domineering father and a subservient mother with a wicked streak didn’t sound that much different from his own. “You wouldn’t know just by looking. Everything seems so peaceful and pleasant.”
Jason harshly snorted. “I’ve seen more than one executive housewife driven to tears in this room.” He swallowed the rest of his bourbon before setting his glass on the bar. “Ready to keep exploring?”
The games room was next. It was clearly a younger Jason’s domain. A giant TV screen, dark and dormant, dominated the far wall beside a silent, state-of-the-art sound system. Vintage arcade cabinets stood a vigilant watch behind a pool table covered in pristine felt. The room was a shrine to the restless energy of privileged youth that Jason admitted he hardly ever used.
“Once I started filming the firstMonday Night Clubmovie, I was hardly ever here.” Jason chuckled. “And when I was here, I was usually in the lounge. Especially when my folks were out of town.”
Tae Hyun lightheartedly snorted away a pang of envy. “I would have loved this when I was younger.”
“What kid wouldn’t?” Jason elaborately shrugged. “But I was too busy acting like a spoiled movie star brat back then to care.”
Tae Hyun playfully chuckled. “Back then?”
“Ha ha.” Jason’s mock exasperation couldn’t hide the truth in Tae Hyun’s teasing. “If you think I’m bad now, you would’ve hated me before.” He shrugged again. “Let’s keep going.”
After a quick peek at the gym, a sun-drenched space full of pristine, dazzling chrome and powder-coated black steel, theystopped at the kitchen. A small army of white-clad figures weaved between prep stations and towering appliances–a flurry of activity under the bright, industrial-style lighting. The room’s sheer scale was intimidating–an endless expanse of marble and stainless steel designed to feed a multitude. It made even Jason’s kitchen, the largest Tae Hyun had ever cooked in, feel cozy by comparison. A pair of servers loudly protested when Jason casually walked up to grab a pair of sandwiches from one of the trays they were setting out until he assured them it was his house.
Jason finally led Tae Hyun up the backstairs as they ate their stolen sandwiches. The upstairs corridor was just as refined as the rest of the house but somehow felt less opulent and more lived in. Their final stop was Jason’s teenage bedroom. The space was a muted echo of a life put on hold. Sleek and stylish, yes, but devoid of the messy vitality Tae Hyun would’ve expected. A perfectly made designer bed. A gaming console still in its box beneath a vast wall-mounted TV. Only the framed posters from Jason’s movies proclaimed it his space. It felt oddly sterile, as if any youthful rebellion had long ago moved elsewhere.
Tae Hyun managed a weak smile. “It’s nice.” He knew the words were hollow.
