Page 54 of XOXO

He slows down after driving a couple of blocks, checking hisside mirrors to ensure no one is following us. He then looks up, studying me through the rearview mirror. “Who...?”

“She’s a classmate of Nathaniel’s and mine,” Jaewoo explains. “We were being trailed by that reporter who works forBulletin.”

He must not have seen Jaewoo holding my hand because he doesn’t comment on it. Either that or he’s used to keeping the boys of XOXO’s secrets.

“Where are you going, Jenny?” Jaewoo asks me. “Can we drop you off somewhere?”

“We’re running late as it is,” XOXO’s manager says.

“It’s fine,” I say. “I can take a cab from wherever you’re going.”

Jaewoo doesn’t press the issue.

XOXO’s manager, Nam Ji Seok, whose name I remember now from when Jaewoo told me, flicks on the turn signal, maneuvering the van onto a ramp that’ll take us over a bridge across the Han River. I know from Gi Taek that a good manager is someone who fulfills many roles in an idol’s life besides organizing their activities—bodyguard, driver, confidante, friend.

I wonder if Jaewoo has even told him aboutus.Though, what is there to tell?

Last time I saw him, he defended my character in front of Sori and Nathaniel and an entire lunchroom. But before that, he’d walked out on me as I gave one of the best performances of my life, without an explanation.

Iwantto be his friend. Ever since that night in LA, there’s been a connection between us. A spark. But I feel like my heart is constantly being pushed and pulled. I’m only here in Korea for five months—four now—do I really want to wait for him to make up his mind about me?

I’m tired of waiting.

“Jenny?” I must have been staring into space because when I focus on Jaewoo, he’s studying me. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I was just... making my mind up about something.”

He frowns.

The navigation on the GPS pings and a woman politely tell us in Korean that we’ll be arriving at our destination shortly.

XOXO’s manager turns from a main road. Up ahead is a large building, the letters EBC, for Entertainment Broadcasting Center, in blue at the top.

As we approach, Nam Ji Seok slows the car. Outside the station, a huge crowd of people is gathered, even more than were in front of the uniform store. Most of the people are young, middle- and high-school students, wearing masks over their mouths, presumably to conceal their faces in case they’re caught on television skipping cram school to follow idols around.

“We’ll have to go around back,” Jaewoo says.

“There’s not enough time,” Ji Seok responds.

A van pulls ahead of us, parking in front of the building, and the crowd immediately swarms it.

“This is our chance!” XOXO’s manager jerks the van forward. “You’ll have to come inside with us,” he tells me. “Ican’t risk leaving you alone in the van. Here, wear this.” He throws me a cloth face mask. I put it on, hooking the straps around my ears. I’m already wearing my Dodgers cap, so I lower it over my eyes. “You can pass for a backup dancer or a stylist. Just keep your head down. Ready?”

Everything happens so fast. He pulls up in front of the building, behind the other van. The doors must have an automatic open feature because they open on both sides. Jaewoo hops out of one side, Ji Seok and I hop out of the other.

“Jaewoo-oppa!” someone screams.

The ground beneath our feet begins to rumble. I look over to see a rush of people coming at us, like an oncoming tidal wave.

Then Ji Seok grabs my arm and we sprint past the crowd and through the doors of the broadcasting station, the security guards quickly closing them behind us.

I put my hands on my knees to catch my breath, then take a look at my surroundings.

It’s markedly quiet after the tumult of the crowd.

The group that entered before us lingers, talking among themselves. They must be another boy group, like XOXO. Unlike Jaewoo, they’re already dressed in their stage outfits, lots of red and black leather and tight pants.

“Hurry up,” Ji Seok says, calling us over to an unmarked door in the lobby.

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