Page 51 of A World Apart
I took his hand and pulled it into my lap, holding it gently. He turned to look at me and I swear I could feel the intensity of his gaze, even through the sunglasses.
“It must be exhausting, constantly having to look over your shoulder.” He didn’t respond for so long that I thought he would just breeze past the comment, so when he did talk, I was surprised
“In the beginning,” he said, gazing out over the ocean, “it was like a fun game. We’d go somewhere − a store, a café − and see if anyone recognised us.” He grinned at some distant memory. “But at some point, it stopped being a game and started being… inconvenient. If we went to the shop, someone would see us and post on Instagram.”
He paused, the grin fading. “I didn’t mind that so much, but once, someone took a picture of Ace − Seokmin − buying snacks, and it turned into this big thing about his diet.” Jihoon shook his head, his jaw tightening.
“As we got bigger, more well-known, we stopped being able to do normal things, like going to get coffee or meeting up with friends.” He shrugged, like it didn’t matter, but the tightness around his eyes told me it did.
“Sometimes, I just wish I could be normal. And then I feel guilty for not being more grateful for how lucky we are.” He shook his head again, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I just wanted one day to be Jihoon.”
What could I say to any of that? So instead of trying to say anything, I just squeezed his hand in silent support as we watched the crowds below us getting smaller
It had gotten quieter the higher up we’d gone, until finally all we could really hear was the whistle of the wind and the distant sounds of the crowd and the passage of the other rides as they whizzed along on their tracks. For a brief period, all there was, was a boy and a girl, sitting in a Ferris wheel, looking out over the sweeping view of Santa Monica Beach all the way to the mountains.
“I think you were right,” I said quietly, but urgently, as we exited the Ferris wheel. A handful of young girls were turned in our direction, scanning the crowd of people as we all came off the ride. Jihoon ducked his head and we both quickened our pace as we rejoined the main thoroughfare, the groupings of people now so thick we had to push through in some places.
Just as we were making our way to the exit, someone shouted, “Jihoon-oppa!” I startled, almost shocked still, but Jihoon didn’t falter. He pressed his hand into my back and urged me forwards, pushing us both into the bottleneck of tourists exiting the park at the same time.
Finally, we were out. “Go,” I hissed, “I’ll meet you at the end of the pier.” He turned to look down at me, indecision clear on his face. “Go,” I pushed him gently, “you can’t be seen with anyone and they’re not looking for me, I’ll be fine.” He looked unhappy but nodded before he turned around and took off down the pier, going behind the buildings and out of sight while I followed, but at a walking pace, just merging with the crowd.
Not long after, four young girls scrambled out of the park some ways behind me, making enough of a scene that I distinctly heard a few shouts of 'Hey!' in response.I didn’t turn around, instead pulling out my phone and pretending to look down at the dark screen. “I know it was him!” I heard one girl whine.
“He’s definitely in LA, I saw it on Weverse,” another said, matter-of-factly.
“I don’t see him!” The first girl whined again, closer now, their combined pursuit sounding like a pack of horses on the wooden boards.
“Are you even sure it was him?” said another voice, fed-up and sceptical.
“Yes!” one insisted, earning a loud scoffing sound, presumably from the sceptic.
“I’m going back in the park, this is bullshit, it wasn’t him. Megan, are you coming?”
“Yeah, I don’t wanna waste my ticket. I’m coming.”
The herd split up, and now only two of them were walking quickly past me, with the others heading back into the park. I glanced up from my phone to track the progress of the remaining two, but it was clear they had no idea where to look. They just kept powering onwards, swinging their heads from side-to-side.
I smiled indulgently and with the grace of one who does not have to worry about being chased by random young fans. What must that life be like?
Then, the more I thought about it, the more the smile slipped from my face. This was a novelty to me, but to Jihoon, this was his every day. He’d told me they all felt real love for their fans − and I believed that − but it must be hard to reconcile the two sides of being so famous; millions of adoring fans propelling your career into the stratosphere, but never being able to simply walk to the shop, or go on a date, without risking the wrath of the few fans who took it too far. It was a trade-off I wasn’t sure I’d be willing to take.
Me
There are2girls heading down the pier looking for you.
I kept walking down the pier, but when he hadn’t replied for several minutes, I began to get worried, especially as I could now see the stairs and not Jihoon.
Me
I’m at the bottom of the pier. Are you ok?
Now at the bottom of the stairs and overlooking the busy street, I began to feel a bit nervous, but then I saw the SUV with the blacked-out windows parked in the short-stay car park, right where we’d left it some hours ago. Had they been there all this time? I guess I should have expected them to hang around.
As I stared at the car, the back door opened, and Jihoon stepped out. Closing the door behind him, he jogged over to me, and I noticed he was wearing a different shirt and a bucket hat now.
“You’re like a spy, changing outfits in the back of cars,” I smiled and gestured to his shirt. He rubbed a hand down it and shrugged.
“Seemed like a good idea.”
