Page 58 of Idol Moves

Yun Seo frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Tae Hyun wasn’t entirely sure he understood his point either. It had just occurred to him. But it felt right. “I mean, yes, they must’ve been thinking of me. But they were trying to send KBR a message. Because KBR could just as easily do to others what they’ve done to me.”

“I know KBR is controlling, oppa, but–”

“You have no idea what they’re capable of.” Tae Hyun’s sharp tone stopped his sister’s statement in its tracks. His memories of his early trainee days threatened to re-emerge, so he shoved them back down. They were the past. He was free of KBR, and that stuff didn’t matter anymore. “There’s plenty I’ve never told you about.”

Yun Seo frowned again as she touched Tay Hyun’s leg. “You know you can tell me about it if you want to.”

Tae Hyun nodded. “I know.” But he couldn’t. Not really. They were memories he’d repressed for the good of his career. And the careers of his fellow group members and idols. They knew because it happened to them, too. But he’d broken free of all that. He was no longer crushed under KBR’s thumb. Sure, they still reached out to try swatting him like an annoying insect. But that was all they could do. He had Jason on his side. Hell, he had the world on his side. Ji Hoon, CEO Pak, and his parents could shake their angry fists at him all they wanted. It wouldn’t stop him from making and performing his music. It wouldn’t stop him from living as his authentic self.

16

Jason had only ever taken a subway once before. But it was the Seoul Metro–which gave him a definite advantage when he took it again. He was headed to an address on Tongil-ro in Eunpyeong-gu, so he eventually found his way onto a Line 3 train and arrived at Gupabal Station. He was impressed with himself when his phone said he was still on course. He didn’t want to ask for help in case his accent gave him away as an American, Mr. Woo’s assertion that he spoke with a Seoul accent notwithstanding. The directions pointed him toward exit 3, but he couldn’t find it. So he went with exit 4 instead and emerged on the street level across from a giant mall.

Jason frowned. “Did they bury you in a mall?”

“You’re looking for the ossuary?”

Startled, Jason turned to the sound of a stranger’s question to see an old woman’s face staring up at him. He thought she was glaring at him before realizing she was just squinting to bring him into focus. “Yes, Grandmother.” He hesitated. “How did you–”

“I just came from there. And I heard what you said. Not many places around here house the dead.” The old woman smiled at her little joke. At least she didn’t call him out for being American. She pointed to Jason’s right. “It’s up that way. Tongil-ro is on the other side of the mall, so you can either go through it or around it.” She huffed. “I’d suggest going around.”

Jason offered a smile before wondering if she could even see it. Then he decided to bow. “Thank you, Grandmother.”

The old woman waved off his thanks. “Bah. It’s thanks enough that you’re honoring your ancestors. Too many young people these days–” She shook her head as if she’d said enough before walking toward the subway entrance.

Jason snorted, pleased that he’d successfully interacted with a local without causing any trouble. But his good feelings were short-lived as he started the trek around the mall. He wasn’t visiting his ancestors, although he probably could’ve found them if he tried hard enough. While he’d supposedly been raised to honor his parents in all things–an assertion he quickly grew out of–his father worshiped at the altar of capitalism before any other. So he’d never passed along any of the Neo-Confucian ideals he’d been raised with to his son.

Jason was alone partly because Seong Hyeon and Seong Min were with Tae Hyun and his sister for theChart Mastersbroadcast. Seong Hyeon had vainly made him promise to stay in the apartment until they got back, which Jason agreed to. Of course, Seong Hyeon was needlessly worried that Jason would hit up the local tavern in search of a bartender with generous pours. But he would’ve just drank at home if he wanted to get drunk.

Jason was alone mostly because he was headed to visit Joo Won–or, rather, Joo Won’s ashes.

It was Joo Won’s birthday. Jason hated knowing that, just like he hated that it had been a decade since he’d last seen his first love’s smile or heard his laughter. But he was in Seoul again. And he was alone. And it was Joo Won’s birthday. So, the siren call was too loud to ignore. And Jason couldn’t think of a good reason not to go and pay his respects to the boy who’d forever changed his life.

It hadn’t been hard to discover where Joo Won’s parents had interred his ashes. He’d done it years ago with a simple web search. Korea made that sort of thing easy. Just like they made cremation easy since open space was a precious commodity and there were a tremendous amount of dead people. So they’d tossed their Joseon-era fetish for finding the ideal burial grounds out the window and started storing their ancestors in little jars. And Joo Won’s parents had stored his little jar next to a big, fancy mall wrapped in neon with an elaborate fountain at the main entrance.

No, that wasn’t fair. The ossuary was probably there first. And it was on the other side of the street, so Jason had to hustle across eight lanes of traffic before walking the final block to the low building with a row of fake Greek columns lining the storefront. It was nominally attached to a Buddhist shrine, but Jason didn’t know exactly how that worked. He didn’t think Joo Won’s family was Buddhist, but he didn’t know that they weren’t, either.

Beyond the glass double-door entrance, the lobby was done in tasteful, polished gray and brown granite, with an alcove opposite the doors holding a golden Buddha statue. A simple wooden table sat to the left of the entrance, holding a newish-looking tablet on a stand. Jason approached it and tapped through the search interface to learn which alcove Joo Won’s ashes sat in. According to the search results, he was at the highest level. Since the building only had a single floor, Jason assumed that meant his parents had given him a first-class alcove. He still deserved better.

With the alcove number in mind, Jason followed the brass plaque signage through the building’s maze-like layout until he found the correct room. Floor-to-ceiling polished wooden shelving units lined the walls of the small chamber, each holding dozens of memorial urns locked behind glass doors with whatever mementos or keepsakes their loved ones had chosen to leave behind. A tiny seating area with a pair of upholstered, high-backed chairs and a small table took up most of the central space. And an older woman wearing a simple black dress stood facing away from the door. Jason nearly panicked when he noticed her dyed-black hair was styled in the same swooped helmet shape his mother wore. But it wasn’t his mother. She only wore her hair that way because all Korean women her age did the same.

Jason followed the numbered alcoves around the room, looking for Joo Won’s. When he finally found it, he realized two things. The woman was looking at Joo Won’s urn. And the woman was Joo Won’s mother.

“I wondered if I’d ever see you here,” Joo Won’s mother said without even looking at Jason. “But I had a feeling it would be today.”

Jason’s surprised rage blossomed from his long-repressed feelings about what happened the last night he’d seen Joo Won. It had been a decade, but it may as well have been the day before. Joo Won’s room had smelled like sporting gear, teenage boy, and whatever fancy new cologne he’d put on for Jason’s benefit. While Jason and Joo Won usually went through several stages of casual conversation, light gaming, and a little roughhouse play before they got to the kissing itself, that night, the two boys took no detours. It was just as Jason had described it to Tae Hyun. A force like gravity dragged them together. Jason could hardly keep his hands off Joo Won, especially after their shirts came off. Maybe it was his raging hormones. Maybe it was that Jason had become increasingly convinced he was in love. Maybe it was the cologne. Jason had been working his way up to suggesting that they take their pants off, too, when the words came unexpectedly tumbling from his mouth.I love you, Joo Won. And he’d been staring at Joo Won’s shy, surprised smile when their parents all burst into the room.

But Jason held back on his anger. He wouldn’t let himself be the person who lost his shit in a funeral home. He inspected Joo Won’s mother instead, really seeing her beyond his dark, painful memories. She’d styled her hair that day but hadn’t worn any makeup beyond a thin layer of lipstick. Her dress was worn but well cared for. Her black kitten heel pumps were scuffed and unpolished. She was a mere shadow of the demon that haunted the dreams of his final night with Joo Won.

Jason sighed. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“I saw on the news that you were in Seoul. And I suspected that you might remember what today is.” Joo Won’s mother frowned. “Was.”

Jason reluctantly nodded. He didn’t want to see her at all, let alone speak with her. But they were both there. And the idea that she not only remembered him but had put together that he might appear based on a news story intrigued him. “So, did you come today because you thought I’d be here or despite that?”

Joo Won’s mother cracked the barest hint of a smile. “I know you probably hate me.”

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