Somewhere Only We Know(7)

“Yes, sir. Please let me put on safe surface,” I said, already inching my way through the door. My accent was offensive to my own ears but I knew Teddy wouldn’t think twice about it. Most Westerners who visited Hong Kong spoke to me in slow, loud English, assuming I could barely understand. This assumption made people let their guard down, underestimating me.

“No, no, let me take them,” Teddy said, reaching for the flowers.

I sidestepped him. “Sir, no. It’s very heavy and delicate. Very rare flower from an ancient rain forest. It will injure if you try.” Gotta love saying “ancient” reverently with a fake Asian accent.

So I pushed forward, almost knocking Teddy over with the floppy leaves. I didn’t know where I was going, trying to find any spot for this thing. As expected, the penthouse was huge, with a giant wall of windows showing off the dazzling skyline. When I turned to place the flowers on a side table, I almost fell on my face when I noticed Celeste Jiang sitting on a nearby sofa. Clad in an oversized T-shirt, drinking a glass of water. Glamorous, poised, and deathly hot.

Holy crap. This was better than I could have imagined. I slipped my hand in the flowers, feeling around for the phone. I had about five seconds before this got weird.

Teddy walked up behind me, and when I glanced up, I saw my own reflection in a huge mirror. Also reflected was Teddy Slade standing beside the flowers and Celeste Jiang sitting on the sofa.

My phone tilted up and I snapped a burst of photos.

“Okay, you need to leave now,” Teddy declared, all irate bluster. I glanced at Celeste before I left, noticing her bemused expression.

I pocketed my phone and Celeste caught me doing it. Her heavy-lidded eyes flicked down toward my hand, and one corner of her mouth lifted. “You know you could ruin a lot of lives with that photo?” Her expression was neutral, the words said in a low and unhurried voice.

For a moment, I froze. I’d been yelled at, chased down streets, but this was the first time someone looked me in the eye and said something so … straightforward. Was she asking me not to publish the photo?

But then Teddy was standing over me, and I bolted out of there. “Have a nice night, Mr. and Mrs.!”

The door shut behind me forcefully, and my heart was pounding in my ears as I grabbed my blazer off the floor and flew toward the elevators.

You guys ruined your own lives, Celeste.





CHAPTER FIVE


LUCKY


“Straight to bed tonight. You only have a day of practice before our flight to LA,” Ji-Yeon fussed as she tidied up the hotel room. Joseph had left for the night, and I was changing into pajamas.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, pulling on my sweatpants.

Ji-Yeon tsked. “Don’t complain.”

“Okay, but can I eat something at least?” My stomach grumbled at the words. I’d subsisted on coconut water and granola bars today because of the hectic tour schedule.

Ji-Yeon leaned against a wall and squinted, thinking about it for a second. Thinking about whether or not I should eat! Finally, she nodded. “Okay, I think I remember seeing some juices and salads on the menu.”

I couldn’t reply because a cartoon hamburger was twerking in front of Ji-Yeon’s face. I would kill for In-N-Out right now. Sometimes the homesickness for LA hit me so hard. I pushed it down deep into the recesses of my rib cage like I always did. If I let it overpower me I would never be able to keep doing this. Homesickness, like so many other things, was a luxury I didn’t have at the moment. It would have to be dealt with later. Always later.

Ji-Yeon ordered the food, then popped out into the hall to alert Ren to the coming room service. Ren usually stayed at my door all night. There were more security guards in the lobby and in the car, too, just in case.

It would seem over the top, except there was that time one of my sasaeng fans (superfans who were essentially stalkers) was waiting for me in the back of my car.

The Hong Kong skyline was colorful and dramatic and filled my hotel room, the wall of windows making me feel like I was floating in the sky. The buildings were massive and so close together that they looked like overlapping, neon-lit pieces of paper within reach. But when I moved closer to the windows to gaze at it, Ji-Yeon shut the curtains briskly. With finality. And even though I was so tired I could sleep for a hundred years, the old nighttime anxiety set in.

As a kid, I hated dusk and the impending rituals of bedtime—brushing my teeth, putting on pajamas, shutting off lights. A sense of dread always followed me as the day grew closer to ending.

“Here you go.” Ji-Yeon placed a small dish next to my bedside table. Two sleeping pills and one Ativan. The sleeping pills were standard, everyone took them. But the Ativan—that was top secret. Mental illness was still taboo in South Korea, and if anyone found out I was taking medication for anxiety, well …

K-POP PRINCESS POPPING PILLS

The Korean press would eat me alive. The rest of Asia would follow. And then my career would collapse into itself, like a star that finally gave in to gravity.

I scooped them up in my palm, my long peach nails scraping the plate, and tossed them back with some water.

After setting up my dinner of salad greens with a light olive oil dressing and a side of almonds, Ji-Yeon went into her own room off my suite. Although I coveted my privacy, I also had a terrible time falling asleep alone. Having Ji-Yeon close was comforting, and it was one of the few diva cards I pulled.