The Anti-Fan and the Idol (My Summer in Seoul) - Page 33

We talk every day, all night.

I’ve never been more exhausted or excited to be dating someone, which is officially what I’m calling it. She’s my person, and the more I get to know her, the more I thank my sister.

She’s clearly putting in a good word for me in the afterlife, right?

I go to the restroom and splash some water on my face. The door opens behind me, and I look over my shoulder.

“Ah-Ri?” I ask.

She launches herself at me. We stumble back against the sink, our mouths fused together as we struggle to stay connected.

“I missed your taste,” I say against her lips.

Her moan goes straight to my cock. “I missed your body.”

I pin her against the wall, and her hands immediately go to my hair. She scrapes her nails on my scalp, and it feels so good that I almost drop her.

She reaches into my joggers and grips my dick.

I flinch, so sensitive that I’m afraid I might embarrass myself when a stall door opens.

I drop her on her ass but then immediately help her up.

Her eyes are wide.

Footsteps sound.

One step, two.

Shit, this is the end of us, isn’t it?

Shit, shit, shit.

I’m too busy losing my mind to realize who it is until he turns around and crosses his arms.

“S-sookie?” Ah-Ri jumps a foot and tries to adjust her shirt while I’m frozen to the spot.

Sookie calmly washes his hands, fixes his hair beneath his grey beanie, then turns to me, his expression hard.

This is bad.

“Break her heart, and I’ll kill you.” His gaze moves from me to Ah-Ri and then back. “And don’t let anyone find out, or you’re completely fucked.”

“Aware”—I swallow, my throat dry—“of that.”

“And maybe check the stalls.” He shakes his head. “Amateurs. At least meet with face masks on at a park or something. Not that I’ve ever done that…”

I tilt my head.

He laughs. “Oh, and”—he pats me on the back—”good to see you’ve got your smile back. She’d be proud.”

I immediately want to cry.

I want to break.

My insides hurt, and my throat burns.

And then Ah-Ri grabs my hand and squeezes it.

“Thanks,” I say to him, but I also feel like I say it to her.

“Sorry,” Ah-Ri whispers under her breath later once we’re walking back into the practice room.

I just laugh. “Yeah, I’m not.”

“I miss you,” she says as the music starts again, and Haneul and Jisoo start their dance sequence.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “Promise.”

She nods.

And then we dance.

We dance until we both want to collapse. Until every inch of our bodies hurts.

Tradition has us all going back to the talent apartments, and, so far, we’ve been able to escape the media since Haneul and I are supposed to be on a bit of a break from things.

Nobody but the label knows we’ve formed a group, so nobody’s waiting for a comeback.

Little do they know, they’re about to get a debut.

I break out into a sweat all over again.

“No more stress,” Jisoo announces once we all finish eating at the apartment. “Let’s just watch a movie and relax. We have a few days before we fail, or, you know…do well.”

“The countdown from hell,” I announce.

“Soju.” Haneul gets up. “I say we sleep in, then work our asses off. But tonight…tonight…” He shares a look with me. “We become whole. A whole group.”

I’m a bit confused why he said it that way, then Ah-Ri grabs my hand and squeezes it again, and it feels right.

Hours later, and everything is spinning. “Sojuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

“Why are you yelling?” Ah-Ri bursts out laughing.

“Because it’s a funny word,” Jisoo answers. “Sojuuuuuuuu.” She stumbles over her words, then grabs another shot and tosses it back.

We’re watching Spiderman No Way Home.

Haneul keeps asking questions, so we have to keep pausing the movie.

“But why is there suddenly a multiverse that Dr. Strange doesn’t know about? I mean, he’s supposed to be the most powerful,” he asks.

“How are you even able to have this conversation with that much alcohol in your system?” I throw a pillow at him.

He dodges. “Dr. Strange has eshplaining to do.”

“There it is.” I laugh. “But you were close.”

“If I was Dr. Stranger,” Haneul says, not realizing that he no longer even has the name right, “I’d change time. Wouldn’t you change time?”

I suddenly feel sick. “Yeah, I would.”

“What would you change?” Jisoo asks, and then I see it click in her head. “I mean, I would probably change my awkward teenage years. Anyway, we should go to sleep.”

She’s trying to get me out of answering.

“Her death,” I say. “I would change her death. I would have done more.”

The room goes silent.

Ah-Ri leans in. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“He doesn’t talk about it,” Haneul finally says.

“She left a note.” I pour another shot. “Not for my parents, but for me. She said she couldn’t do it anymore. She said she was sorry. And then she was just gone from this world, hopefully no longer in pain. At least that’s the way I like to think of it, that she was at peace. That she made peace.”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Romance
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