Page 25 of Idol Prize
Everyone broke into a frenzied scramble of shouting and deal-making. Min Jae quickly grabbed Woo Jin’s arm, who turned and pointed at Dae Hyun. A pair from one of theSynapseteams filled out the rest of their five. It didn’t matter who they were beyond that, as long as they weren’t Seo Joon. Or Andy.
Riki introduced and led the first game, a frantic game of charades. She paired off the teams at random, based on who was closest, before passing out the clues on neatly printed, Dream Boy Project branded cards. Min Jae’s team, led by him and his two roommates, easily took the lead. Then it was his turn to act out the clue. He groaned when he read his card.The Long Evening Sunset, an older American movie starring the notorious Jason Park. But he was determined. He used up almost the entire sixty seconds on the timer before Alex Cho, the full-time rapper and part-time skateboarder from New Zealand, finally guessed right and gave them the win. Not that it mattered, since there were no prizes that day. Except that winning always mattered.
Cipher presented the second game, an eating contest. Each team was handed a giant bowl of Cheezyfish crackers and told to see who could fit the most in their mouth at once. It was idiotic. It was also brilliant television. Min Jae–who would never have publicly admitted why he could, even under penalty of death–easily stuffed at least two dozen crackers into his mouth before most of his team gave up. He almost spit them up when he caught a glimpse of his chipmunk-cheeked face on the large screen. A great shot of him, and almost certainly a new meme. But the best part was that, so far, he hadn’t thought of Andy once. Until he turned away from the screen to catch Andy watching him. He immediately looked away. No tension, no problems. Because nothing happened.
Surprisingly, Min Jae didn’t actually win. That honor went to Kenta, who’d somehow managed to fit 29 crackers into his mouth. When Cipher asked Kenta how he managed it, he just shrugged and said, “What? I’ve got a big mouth.”
Hwa Young took over to announce the final game. Telephone. She began by having the contestants line up in ranked order, one to fifty, breaking up the teams. Min Jae inwardly groaned. He’dmanaged to avoid Andy all day. He was so close to escape, only to have a mentor torpedo his efforts. Andy offered Min Jae a quick grin and nod in greeting. How could he be so calm around him after they’d almost–no. Nothing happened. Min Jae nodded back and followed Hwa Young’s instruction for the group to sit in a giant circle. They were going to play a single, fifty-person game, starting at the bottom and moving up in rank. That was sure to be hilarious.
Once everyone was seated, Hwa Young bent to whisper the secret phrase in number 50’s ear. The game was on. Min Jae thought about watching as the phrase moved around the circle, but that would mean looking at Andy. He glanced to his right, but Min Jun was looking elsewhere. And he was from Andy’s team anyway. He leaned out, catching Woo Jin’s attention from two spots away. Woo Jin smiled.
“I can’t wait until it gets around to us,” Woo Jin whispered. “It’ll be so crazy.” He turned away before Min Jae could answer.
Min Jae quietly huffed, finding the secret phrase’s location as someone across the circle whispered it to their neighbor. Still only halfway. The game wasn’t moving fast enough. Here he was, sitting next to Andy, who beamed so brightly he may as well have been the sun. Min Jae’s cheeks rapidly warmed, the heat quickly spreading to his ears. He needed to say something. To do something. He couldn’t just sit there saying nothing. That would look terrible. What if a camera caught him right then, his fake smile melting under Andy’s careless heat? He needed to say something. Say something. Say anything!
A hand rested on his thigh. Andy’s hand. Andy leaned in close, the warmth of his breath caressing Min Jae’s neck as he whispered into Min Jae’s ear. "Hey, are you okay? You're acting kinda weird."
Nothing happened. Nothing happened. "Nothing happened." Shit! Was that really out loud?
Andy quietly snorted. "I know, dummy. I was there. Now, look alive. They're almost to you.”
Sure enough, Woo Jin was already whispering the phrase to Tae Woo, the number four rank. Min Jae’s body began to cool, his tension flowing away like water as the game’s ending approached. Andy had saved him, yanking him from his internal tailspin back to the present moment. Maybe, just maybe, a little something had happened.
Tae Woo shared the phrase with Min Jun, who finally leaned toward Min Jae. “Minty soup's glorious chair can't outshine my salad.”
Min Jae chuckled despite himself, turned toward Andy, and froze. The room fell away, leaving Andy bathed by moonlight. His smooth cheek, warm under Min Jae’s hand. His thumb, brushing the corner of Andy’s soft lips. No. Nothing happened. Min Jae shook off the intrusive memory and leaned just close enough to Andy to whisper the phrase. Andy chuckled and nodded, turning to Hwa Young behind him. “My pea soup's glorious stare can't outshine my salad.”
Hwa Young laughed as she pointed to the screen, revealing the correct secret phrase.Even Min Si Woo's glorious hair can't outshine my talent. The room burst into uproarious laughter, both at the final nonsense phrase, and Si Woo’s playful embarrassment from the joke at his expense. He stepped forward as the laughter died down. “Alright, Dream Boys, that's a wrap on a fantastic Game Day! Enjoy the rest of your day. You’ve earned it!”
After a fresh wave of cheers, the contestants broke from the circle into general noise and chatter, the structured fun giving way to a more genuine, freewheeling relief. Min Jae stood too, but he was still miles away, reeling, a phantom tingle in his thigh where Andy’s hand had rested, the ghost of his warm breath against his ear.I know, dummy. I was there.He vigorously shook his head, trying to banish the raw, unwanted memory of Andycoming to his rescue. He was too exposed. Being on the roof with him was one thing. But there, with everyone seated around them? It was too much.
Andy’s playful laughter suddenly cut through the din. Min Jae quickly turned to watch him talking with Leo, his head thrown back in loud, easy, carefree joy, shining his bright light at the guy who’d rarely left his side the whole competition. Just like he’d shined his light on Min Jae. Just like he did with everyone. Nothing happened.I know, dummy. I was there.
Min Jae’s sudden frustration burst out in a low growl. Andy had followed him to the rooftop when all he’d wanted was to be alone. He’d set off his own bomb, letting Min Jae think that maybe, just maybe... But nothing happened. Just like Andy admitted. Because he was playing his own game, too. He’d rescued Min Jae from coming apart at the seams, and was already laughing it off. Just another move. Another piece of charming, disarming fan service designed to get inside Min Jae’s head and throw him off balance. Min Jae, the fool.
Enough. Min Jae turned away, making an immediate attempt to escape the uproar, brushing past Woo Jin before his roommate could see and potentially stop him. He wanted out. Now. He pushed through the crowd near the door with a brisk, determined pace, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. His sneakers hardly made a sound on the expensive corridor carpeting as he marched back to Tiger Wing and went inside his blessedly empty room. But someone could come back at any moment. He continued to the room’s small, shared bathroom, closing the door behind him. Finally, silence.
Min Jae braced his hands on the cool porcelain of the sink, his head bowed, and let the cold water run. He splashed some on his face, the cool shock a welcome distraction from the humiliation burning inside, and forced himself to look up, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. The accusatory stare was there waiting for him. Just as he’d known it would be. Endlessly patient anduncompromising. You fool, it said. You’re here for one reason only. To win. You’ve already lost the number one rank. What else are you willing to lose? Because, if you’re not careful, it’ll be the whole damn thing. What would your grandmother say when you tell her that you didn’t make the cut–you didn’t debut–because some piece of ass with a great body and a winning smile made you feel all tingly inside?
Min Jae grunted. He’d been a fool, exposing himself like that. What did he think would happen? He was no Woo Tae Hyun. There’d be no coming out for him. No billionaire boyfriend to make all his problems go away. He only had himself to count on. And the absolute last thing he needed in a competition with 50 other cutthroat contestants desperate to debut was to show any vulnerability. Any weakness. His livelihood–and his grandmother–depended on his success. And Andy Kim, with his easy smiles and careless, indiscriminate kindness, was a threat. Not a rival to be beaten, but a weakness to be cut away. Before it could fester.
The bathroom door clicked open without warning. Min Jae’s head snapped up. Seo Joon froze in the doorway, his arrogant posture instantly vanishing, replaced by a wary, apologetic stance as he saw Min Jae at the sink.
“Oh, shit.” Seo Joon said, small and quiet. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.”
Min Jae stared at him for a beat, his expression pure ice, before looking away. He picked up a hand towel, dried his face, and moved toward the door, brushing past Seo Joon without looking back. “It's fine,” he replied, cool, calm, and controlled. “I'm fucking done.”
11
Nothing happened?What the fuck did that even mean? Andy huffed, ducking his head under the shower’s powerful spray, grateful once again for Sky Village’s seemingly endless supply of hot water. If only it was enough to melt the ice king. On the one hand, no. Nothing actually happened. There was no awkward kiss. No one shoved their hands into anyone’s pants. But, on the other hand, something had most definitely happened. There’d been a moment between him and Min Jae where a kiss seemed inevitable. That could’ve even led to some quick hand action. You just didn’t tenderly caress another guy’s face, longingly–and, honestly, lustfully–when it wasn’t leading to something happening. Fuck.
Andy shut off the water, letting his body drip into the shower for a few long, slow breaths before reaching for his towel. The hot water had worked some of its magic, dissolving some of the tension from his back and shoulders. But the more stubborn knots remained. What he wouldn’t give for an actual bath. Or a massage. Or a good fuck.
But what Andy mostly wanted was answers. What the fuck was up with Min Jae? One day, he’s the ice king with walls so thick you’d think he was hoarding gold. The next, he’s making asecret surprise move in the most romantic possible way. Then he goes right back to glacier town. The guy wasn’t right in the head. Part of the reason Andy had avoided dating was to avoid guys like Min Jae. Crazy hot. But also just crazy.
Andy thoroughly dried himself before wrapping the towel around his waist. Standing at the steam-fogged mirror, he wiped a hand across it, revealing his reflection. He leaned in close, inspecting his face for any new signs of wear and tear. The contest had only been weeks, so far. But it felt hella longer than that. Still, no bags under his eyes, yet. His skin, still blessedly clear, with a touch of blotchy redness from the hot water. And good enough for mission assignment day. He grabbed his tube of the expensive Chinese moisturizer his sister Hannah had recommended, liberally applying it to his face before running his fingers through his recently trimmed hair. The show’s stylists were absolute wizards, better even than the magic Mexican ladies from that salon next to the supermercado on Florin. He grinned. Two could play the crazy hot game.
His roomies were already dressed and ready when Andy emerged from the bathroom. He promised them he’d catch up once he was ready to go. Finally alone in their dorm room, Andy dressed low-key slutty for breakfast–a tight black t-shirt and skinny jeans that made his ass look divine. He was on camera, so he kept his towel around his waist until he’d yanked his pants up in deference to the show’s censors. But there was no rule against being shirtless, so he gave the audience as much of a show as he was allowed. After tying up his simple, black crosstrainers–just in case they had to perform–Andy grabbed his Sky Village badge and re-emerged into the world washed, rested, and ready to conquer.
