Page 48 of Idol Prize
Min Jae took down the bowls while his grandmother began reheating the savory bulgogi in a pan, the mouth-watering ganjang and garlic aroma immediately filling the air. He was just placing the last of the side dishes on the table when Andy appeared in the doorway, his hair damp, wearing a fresh t-shirt and shorts.
Andy grinned. “Looks like everything's almost ready. Guess I timed that right.” He caught Min Jae’s attention. “Can I help with whatever’s left?”
“Nonsense,” Min Jae’s grandmother chirped without turning from the stove. “You’re our guest! Sit, sit.”
Andy chuckled. “I insist.” He walked to the counter beside Min Jae, his heat and presence a solid thing in the small space. "At least let me carry something," he added, reaching for the bowls of rice.
Min Jae’s grandmother cheerfully relented, working Andy into her routine like he’d always been there, the three of them dancing around the tiny kitchen with surprising ease. Because that’s how Andy was, even when he was still Min Jae’s rival. No matter how much Min Jae had tried to ice him out, Andy was still there, poking at his walls with his goofy, handsome grin, disarming him with the same charm he’d easily disarmed the Dream Makers with.
Min Jae sighed to himself. What if? What if Andy had always been there? How different would his life have turned out, having someone like that in his life? But he pushed the thoughts away. His life had been how it was, and Andy was here now.
As they ate, Min Jae’s grandmother gently prodded for stories about the show, looking for things she hadn’t seen in the broadcast. Min Jae reminded her that they’d all signed an NDA, but Andy waved off the excuse and began talking about all the little details that didn’t matter. His favorite foods in the cafeteria. The fact that Practice Room Seven was always just a little colder than all the others. How he’d sometimes genuinely forget the camera crews were there, leading to some near-miss accidents in the hallways. How he’d expected to be considered an outsider by all the other guys, and how hard it had been saying goodbye to all the friends he’d made instead.
Min Jae’s grandmother drank it all up like her cheap soju, enjoying it as if it were the best, most scandalous gossip in the world, even giggling a few times. They passed dishes back and forth as Andy told his stories. Min Jae refilled Andy’s water glass. Andy pushed the platter of bulgogi closer to Min Jae. They shared a quick, knowing eye-roll when his grandmother insisted Andy have a third helping of japchae. Like he’d always been there.
Once they’d finished eating and cleaning up, Min Jae’s grandmother took out her special bottle of soju and three glasses, pouring one for each of them. As they sipped, she told a long, overly detailed story about going with her late daughter to Min Jae’s first dance recital, filling it with the sort of observations only a grandmother would make. Min Jae didn’t mind, even when she got to the part where he’d split his pants onstage but valiantly danced through it, his red underwear hanging out the back for all the world to see. It was her favorite story, and he’d heard it often. Andy laughed so hard his eyes teared up, and almost did a spit take.
Eventually, his grandmother decided she was tired and had enough talking for one day. She gave both of them a goodnight kiss on the cheek before retiring to her bedroom.
“She needs to catch up on her dramas,” Min Jae explained as the sounds of her TV floated through her bedroom door. “And I still need to shower, if you don’t mind.”
Andy shook his head. “Nah, I don’t mind. I’ve got at least a dozen messages to respond to before they take away our phones again.” He grabbed his phone from the shorts on the floor and plopped onto Min Jae’s bed. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
Min Jae chuckled as he wandered into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and standing in the darkness. As wonderful as the day had turned out, he’d ridden quite the emotional rollercoaster and needed a moment or two for himself. Many things had changed in his life that day, things he’d never in a million years have expected. He’d confessed his feelings for someone. He’d slept with that someone. And his grandmother hadn’t disowned him. It was a lot. Finally gathering himself, he stripped down and got to business.
When Min Jae returned, Andy was still reclining on the bed his phone held aloft as his thumbs flew across the screen. Min Jae finished drying his hair before hanging his towel on the footboard beside Andy’s. He bent to retrieve his sleeping mat, rolled up under the bed, when Andy cleared his throat.
“Uh, I don’t know about you, but I think we’re probably fine sharing the bed now, right?”
Min Jae looked up to see Andy, head craned up, looking at him with a knowing smirk. A simple, charmingly domestic request. They’d recently fooled around in that bed. Why would sleeping in it together be a problem? But Min Jae’s mind finally rebelled against him, fed up with a day of monumental change that threw out plans he’d been working at for literal years. Suddenly, it wasn’t Andy in the bed. It was 1222, leering at him from the king size bed in his Park Grand Hotel suite. Then it was Hotel Mango Junior Suite. Then another, and another, as dozens and dozens of leering men in hotel beds appeared before him.
“Hey, earth to Min Jae?”
Min Jae shook off his terrifying vision, focusing instead on Andy’s concerned frown. “Sorry.” He sighed, dropping the sleeping mat, walking around the bed, and sitting on the edge beside Andy. “There’s just–” He stopped, the words catching in his throat. How could he live with himself, keeping someone he had genuine feelings for in the dark about his past? How could he possibly trust someone enough to confess his darkest secret? He shook his head. No, if he was going to have any relationship with Andy, he deserved to know the truth. The whole truth. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Andy’s frown dipped a bit more. “What? You didn’t just give me syphilis or something, did you?”
Min Jae shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I haven’t slept with anyone else since I was last tested, so you’re good.” Strictly speaking, not true, but 1222 had shown him a clean bill of health in an attempt to bareback that night, which Min Jae had refused anyway. He sighed again, knowing it only made him sound more dramatic, but desperately needing to release some tension. “It’s something you should know about me.” He slowly, haltingly admitted to his sex work, not daring to meet Andy’s gaze as he explained everything. “After I lost my mom, I was in so muchdebt,” he added, “I still am. And I needed to support my grandmother, and pay for physical therapy and dance studio time, and–”
“Okay,” Andy interrupted. “I get it. You needed the money.”
Min Jae quietly waited, rubbing his thumbs across his knuckles, his gut coiled so tightly that he thought it might burst, as Andy fell silent. Adding anything more would just risk more of Andy’s angry disgust before finally rejecting him. There was no way he’d do anything else. It’s what Min Jae probably would’ve done if their positions were reversed.
“Look at me,” Andy finally said. Commanded. Min Jae did so, seeing the same fierce determination on Andy’s face he’d had before storming off that morning. “Here’s what I don’t get. You’ve got so many layers, Min Jae. Every time I turn a fucking corner there’s something new.”
Min Jae nodded. “I get it. It’s not something most people would accept, so–”
“That’s not it,” Andy snapped, cutting in, his voice loud enough that Min Jae wondered if his grandmother would hear. “I don’t give a shit about that. Sex work is the same as any other work. If you were careful and protected yourself, then I couldn’t care less.” He huffed, his tight jaw still working to catch up to his words. “It’s all the goddamn secrets. You hate me, then you want to kiss me. You invite me here for the weekend, but only to discuss your strategy. And then you sleep with me anyway, after admitting you have actual feelings for me.” He huffed again, roughly, almost a scoff. “And now this? Shit, Min Jae. I haven’t even known you all that long. Where does it end?”
Min Jae blew out a long, slow breath. A sigh just wouldn’t cut it anymore. “This is it. There’s nothing left.”
“You’re not exactly filling me with confidence here,” Andy countered.
“I’m sorry.” Min Jae finally tore himself away from Andy’s piercing gaze, looking down at his hands awkwardly shovedtogether in his lap. “I don't know how to do this part. Being honest. It's the only secret I had left to give.” He focused on his thumbs, still massaging his knuckles, letting his surroundings fade into black nothingness. He’d finally confessed his darkest secret, despite his certainty that Andy would reject him. At least that was done. Things couldn’t–
“Hey.” Andy said, quieter now. “You don’t have to look at me if it makes you uncomfortable. But you have to say more. I need to hear more from you if you want me to be okay with this.”
Tempted to do otherwise, Min Jae did look at Andy. His expression had softened to match his tone, his brows gently furrowed, his frown more concerned than angry. He hadn’t shut the door on Min Jae yet. In fact, he’d just invited Min Jae to step through and return to where things were still okay between them. It was a gamble, saying more, and Min Jae had gambled so much already. Part of him, the part that had kept him safe and protected through every shitstorm he’d faced, told him to let things go. He had an out now. Use it. Stay safe.
