“Who?” I frowned. “Canceled what?”
“It’s getting worse, and we have two weeks. Two weeks to make our comeback, live in front of the world. I’m asking if the variety show canceled.” He looked ready to throw a chair.
“I just looked a few minutes ago. The schedule’s the same.” I gulped. “Just let me know what you need, and I’ll—”
He barked out a laugh. “A time machine.”
“Yeah, fresh out of those,” I teased weakly.
His smile was almost sad, and he slowly reached for me, then yanked his hand away, only changing his mind after turning me around, so my back was facing him.
The rest of the group had dispersed, most likely to get ready.
He was still in his clothes from practice.
“You should change,” he finally said, and then he was gone.
Leaving me in the kitchen having a near heart attack as my phone went off again. “Solia,” I answered. “I mean assistant, I mean—” Shit. “What can I do for you?”
“Is anyone hurt?” She interrupted in a strained voice as I quickly went into my bedroom, put her on speaker phone, changed into a hoody and attempted not to have a breakdown from stress.
“No.” I sighed and made my way back into the kitchen pulling out a chair. “But I need—I mean, I don’t know what they need, other than food, Xanax, a break. I don’t know if I can do this.” There, I said it.
It had everything to do with me understanding nothing about the culture, nothing about their backstories other than what I’d been given, and not feeling capable enough to protect them at all costs.
Because that was what they needed.
Protection.
“We don’t have the security to—”
“I need to go. As of right now, Lucas is sick and needs to stay at the apartment; let Rae know he’s, as per usual, in charge. And Grace, this is extremely important.”
I gripped the phone so hard my fingers started to go numb. “Yes?”
“Don’t let Lucas on the elevator. Don’t let him out of your sight. Your only job as of right now is to make sure he stays in the apartment.”
The guy that hated me.
The one who the world hated for some reason right now.
With a language barrier.
Trapped.
And in need of a therapist, not a college graduate with a language app on her phone and some sort of unknown substance on her leather jacket.
“He’ll be safe,” I found myself vowing, even though I wasn’t sure I could even deliver. “I promise.”
All that mattered was keeping Lucas alive and happy at this point. I was probably the worst person for the job, but even if I needed to be the person he hated so that he could get through this, I was okay with that.
He needed something. Someone.
I sighed, tucking my phone back in my pocket. “Just killed every goldfish that ever attempted to survive in your dorm…” I mused aloud to myself after hanging up.
“Do we need to change your title from sorority girl to goldfish killer?” Rae was running a towel through his wet blond hair.
Mouth dry, it took me a few seconds to actually find words as he sauntered toward me. “Depends, can you be speedy? That was the name of my goldfish, by the way, the first one that died, may he rest in peace—how did you shower so fast?”
“Are you always so forward?” His smile did funny things to my stomach that I knew I needed to ignore if I was going to make it out of Korea alive.
“I wasn’t flirting; I was genuinely asking.” I lifted my chin defiantly.
“Good. Because if that was flirting, I almost feel sorry for you.” He shrugged and started to walk away.
“Wait!” I crooked my finger.
He frowned but didn’t come forward.
I dropped my hand. “That was Solia… she said that Lucas is apparently sick, and I need to guard him in the apartment and that you are in charge.” Yeah, I was going to have a heart attack at twenty-two, I just knew it. “And that the rest of you guys should just go to the show, I’m assuming after what happened outside twice.”
“First of all, you don’t need to whisper. His door’s closed.” Rae sighed and looked up at the ceiling like maybe heaven would cut them a break. “I’ll go let him know, even though he probably wasn’t going to go anyway…”
He started to walk off again.
“Wait, wait!” I nearly tugged his towel to get him to turn around. “What sorts of things does he like? I mean, games—” Wow, games, like I was babysitting a toddler. “What’s going to cheer him up?”
“I’m gonna reference my earlier answer… time machine,” Rae said, without looking back, and then stopped in front of Lucas’s door and called over his shoulder. “He’ll kill me if this ever gets out, but he likes cheesy K-dramas, junk food, and the piano—but lately he’s been…”