Somewhere Only We Know(32)

So I was supposed to feel grateful. Grateful that they supported me, that I got chosen by my management label, that my girl group was popular, that my solo career took off, that I was the biggest name in K-pop right now.

Instead, I felt guilty. Because that gratitude was really hard to summon nowadays.

He continued, “I don’t get it. We can’t think creatively beyond like, college and a job and marriage and kids? It’s so depressing.”

I had a feeling Jack didn’t truly understand that word. “What’s so depressing about it? It’s a luxury to have those options, Jack. It’s why your parents and my parents uprooted themselves to start new lives.”

He was quiet for a second. “I get that. But I also think there’s a spectrum of things that make people unhappy. Even if it was comfortable—that path was making me feel dead inside.”

I remembered the dead look in my eyes at my latest performance. Jack seemed so confident in himself, about his life. But that comment there—it revealed the same yearning that I had felt for months. I thought it was the hamburger that got me out of my hotel room last night. But, if I was being truthful with myself, it was this. The yearning.

And Jack had it, too. He wanted something more. Something different.

“I know what you mean,” I said softly, crumpling the paper wrapping of the bao tightly into my fist. “You can’t help what you want.”

The sharpness of Jack’s look startled me and I choked. Hard.

Jack stopped and pounded my back. Also hard. Like Korean-mom style. “Do you want some of your milk?”

I nodded, embarrassed as I watched Jack set the bag on the ground and bend down to fish the milk carton out of it. Crouching, he unwrapped the straw and poked it into the carton before handing it to me.

He had even bent the straw.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a giant swig. Once I had annihilated the drink, I crushed it in my fist and made a satisfying “Ahhh” sound.

Watching me from his crouched position, Jack started laughing. “You really enjoy your treats.”

“I do.”

He got up. “Well, we’re almost at the park, we can finish the other buns there.”

I skipped ahead. “Ooh. Romantic. A picnic in the park.”

He laughed, then jogged to catch up with me.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


JACK


There was something more there. More than just a homesick K-pop star.

You can’t help what you want.

She clearly missed her family, her home. America. So, what was so irresistible and compelling about being a K-pop star that kept her so far away? Was it pure narcissism, basking in adoration?

If I kept digging, I’d have something more here than a sexy celebrity profile.

I watched Lucky practically skip ahead of me.

She was enjoying this day.

I had to shake off the uneasy feeling of being, you know, a horrible human being. Lucky was surprising me, but I had to keep in mind what she was: a product. She knew it. She chose to be a part of the nightmare that was the K-pop machine. In my research last night, I found out all about the messed-up conditions in their training, the draconian nature of their contracts. Anyone who wanted fame that badly would be fine with more publicity.

Plus, this was a thrill for her. An escape. I was essentially doing her a favor.

We were headed to Hong Kong Park, a sprawling, lush park set into a hillside right in the middle of the Central district. There was a giant crowd near the base of the park and we had to weave through it.

“What is this crowd for?” Lucky asked as she did that thing again—of compressing her body into a smaller version of itself.

It occurred to me that her people might be looking for her. That she wasn’t only hiding from fans, but her management, too. I pushed myself into the crowd to get closer to her, using my body to keep her somewhat shielded. I didn’t want her to get caught, either. It would be the end of the story.

I replied, “Oh, it’s for the tram. It takes you up to Victoria Peak.”

Her eyes lit up. “A tram? Ooh. What’s Victoria Peak?”

I was already calculating the cost. It was at least eighty Hong Kong dollars for each of us. But man … that photo at the peak would be killer. I’d ask Trevor to pay me back for all expenses later.

“It’s the highest mountaintop in Hong Kong and it has amazing views of the city.” I looked at the giant line of tourists and shuddered inwardly. “Do you want to go?”

Her smile hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the smile I had seen in her concert videos, the full wattage reserved to stun anyone in its path. The smile of someone who is worshipped. When she wasn’t shrinking into herself trying not to be discovered, she was the most confident person I’d ever met. Someone who was keenly aware of her own power.

“I would love to go!” She was already scooting herself to the end of the line.

We stood in the sun and it felt good. Lucky seemed uncomfortable in close quarters with everyone, but the tourists around us were absorbed in their own conversations, and after a while, she relaxed. I did, too, feeling more and more certain that Lucky would stick with me for the rest of the day.

An entire day with her. Undercover. This was too good.

It was a good time to finish our bao, and I scarfed one down, the filling having cooled off some.