Page 40 of XOXO

“Why do you think we’re in here?” Jaewoo says.

Oh boy. He’s stalling.

“Were you looking for something? I saw the light was on. Though...” He frowns. “That doesn’t explain why the door was clo—”

“You dyed your hair!” I interrupt, pointing to Youngmin’s head. His hair, which was blue yesterday, is now fire-truck red. “It looks good!”

My distraction seems to work because Youngmin beams. “Thank you! Our manager says I’m the only one in the band who can really pull it off. He sent me to get you, Jaewoo-hyeong.We were supposed to have left for EBC fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh, right,” Jaewoo says. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

I wonder if Jaewoo and I will ever acknowledge what almost took place in the broom closet, or if, like before, we’re going to pretend it never happened.

“Hyeong,” Youngmin says, hesitating, “that ajeossi is outside again.”

It’s like these words flip a switch inside Jaewoo because his whole demeanor changes.

With jerky movements, he takes out his phone, quickly tapping against the screen, then holding it to his ear. Catching my eye, he explains, “I’m calling campus security. Hello?” Someone must have picked up on the other line. “There’s a suspicious adult, male, mid-forties, hanging around the arts department.” He holds his hand to the receiver. “Which side?” he asks Youngmin.

“East side,” Youngmin tells him, and Jaewoo repeats it to the operator.

“Thank you.” He hangs up. “Don’t worry, Youngmin-ah. They’ll get rid of him.”

We start walking, Jaewoo at the front, flanked by Youngmin and me. Tension radiates from Jaewoo in waves. Something about the appearance of this man has really ticked him off.

“Who is he?” I ask Youngmin.

“A paparazzi ajeossi,” Youngmin explains. “He’s the one who sold the story of Nathaniel and Sori toBulletin.”

Jaewoo’s anger suddenly makes a lot more sense. This is the man who hurt his group member, his label-mate and friend. With him, it’s personal.

“Do you get followed by paparazzi a lot?” I ask.

Youngmin wrinkles his nose. “Not really. Though sometimes they wait for us outside the company...”

“That’s different,” Jaewoo says, and his usually even-toned voice has an edge to it. “At concerts, at fan events, even in places where there isn’t a designated media zone like outside Joah’s building or the broadcasting stations, media are expected, even invited. But at our school? Outside our dorm? At the homes of our families? That’s not right.

“When our fans take photos of us it’s because they want to feel close to us, they support us and have our best interests at heart. Paparazzi just want money; they want to expose our private lives for profit.”

“People have even gotten hurt,” Youngmin says. “There have been cases where idols have gotten into car crashes trying to get away from paparazzi.”

“Wow, that’s awful.”

We reach a hallway that splits in two directions. Jaewoo finally stops and turns to me. “Youngmin and I will go out the east side. If you follow this hall it’ll take you out the north exit. Follow the garden path to the cafeteria.”

I feel like we’re in a war film and he’s drawing the fire. It’s a similar feeling to how I felt that night in LA, when an unmarked van had pulled up to the curb to take him away.

“The paparazzi ajeossi should be gone by now,” Jaewoo says, and I know he says it to reassure me.

They both wait for me to leave first. “Good luck on your live show,” I say. “I’ll be sure to watch.”

Youngmin holds up his thumb and pointer finger, pressing the pads together and crossing them slightly until they form the shape of a tiny heart.

“If you see me making this sign to the camera, know that it’s for you!”

Later that night, Angela, Gi Taek, and I watch XOXO’s performance onTop Ten Livein a small restaurant right off campus that sells Korean food at cheap prices. We split a plate of tteok-bokki between us as we wait for our other dishes to arrive.

Gi Taek spears a cylinder of the spicy rice cake with a toothpick. “Don’t let me eat more than three. I’m on a diet.”

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