Page 89 of When Worlds Collide
“Language or heritage?” I joked, without even thinking the words through.
The stranger laughed and said, “Either, or.” From his accent, I would guess-
“Australian?”
“Guilty as charged.” He held a hand to his chest and bowed in a manner very fitting to the fairy tale prince outfit he was wearing. He even had a short cape hanging from one shoulder.
“British.” I shrugged, but enjoying the unexpected company.
“A pom!” he declared, as though delighted. “What brings you all the way to Korea?”
“Oh, this and that.” I waved my hand, vaguely.
“Very mysterious. I like it.” He held out a hand to me. “Taeyang, but most people call me Tae.”
I took his hand, which was very warm against mine. “Kaiya, but most people call me Ky.”
“Good to meet you, Ky, who’s here doing ‘this and that.’” He winked at me, the gesture seeming especially roguish, given the mask.
“And what do you do, Tae?” I turned it around on him to deflect off myself.
“Oh,” he laughed. “I work for ENT.”
I figured as much, given where we were. “Doing anything interesting?”
“You could say that,” he hedged. “I’m in a group. Called Sol8.”
I choked on my drink, the bubbles going down the wrong way. I looked at him again as I tried to discreetly cough up the blockage. I recognised him now. This was the idol on the cardboard cutout in Olive Young – the one Jihoon said smoked a lot. That idol was just then reaching for me, like he was going to pat me on the back, but right then, as though my realisation had summoned him, Jihoon was next to me. I managed to cough until I could breathe again, without the need for anyone to smack me on the back.
“You alright there, Ky?” Taeyang leaned in close to me.
“She’s fine.” Jihoon angled himself between me and the younger idol, and I frowned up at him, before glancing around us to see if anyone was paying attention.
“Friend of yours, Jihoon-sunbaenim?” Taeyang was looking at us curiously, and I wondered what Jihoon was going to say, but to my shock, he took my hand and, not offering any reply to Taeyang, pulled me away. We stayed on the fringes of the crowd, and no one seemed to be looking in our direction, but his boldness in such a public place left me speechless. When we stopped a healthy distance away, all I could do was gape up at him.
“Not him,” he growled.
My mouth popped open at his tone. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard him sound like that before, so… jealous?
“Not him,” he repeated, and I just wordlessly nodded.
But then I remembered I actually had a voice. “He came up to me, Jihoon, not the other way around.”
“He was clearly…” he clenched his jaw, and then took a breath. “He’s got a reputation.”
“Okay, and?” I could feel heat spreading up my neck and knew it was probably visible on my skin, a tell-tale sign of my rising irritation.
“That’s not enough?” His tone was as incredulous as if I’d suggested I was thinking of asking him out on a date.
“His reputation has nothing to do with me.” My jaw clenched so hard I had to forcibly relax. “Look, he didn’t do or say anything inappropriate. And even if he had, I would have handled it. You didn’t need to charge over like a dog looking for its favourite tree to piss on.” I was whisper shouting by this point, watching the passage of his eyebrows, as they travelled further and further up his forehead.
Jihoon was silent for a moment, before – “Did you just call yourself a tree?”
“I called you a dog first.”
We stared at each other for a moment, eyes hard, before we burst into giggles at the same moment.
“For fuck’s sake,” I murmured. “I can handle myself, alright?”
