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“Thanks.” I stand to go, feeling dissatisfied with the unresolved status of things.

“Don’t be too mad at him, Hyeri-yah,” Jongdae says behind me. “Minseok acts like nothing bothers him. But he takes a lot of things to heart. He just buries it away to make things easier for everyone else. It’s built up over the years, I think. And none of us realized how bad it was until now. I’m probably one of the biggest culprits.”

“Have you talked to him?” I ask, even though it’s none of my business. Not anymore.

“I will,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to burden him right after the attack. And before.” He shakes his head, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. A gesture Minseok does too. I wonder who adopted it from whom. “Listen, if I’m the reason you and Minseok broke up, then I was wrong. I said some stupid crap because I knew it would mess with him, and I was pissed at the time.”

He must be talking about whatever fight caused the bruise on Minseok’s chin. But I shake my head. “It wasn’t because of you. I don’t think we’re on the same page about a lot of things. Maybe we’ll never be.”

Jongdae nods. “Minseok doesn’t really talk to me about stuff these days. But I can tell you that sometimes you need to really push to get him to admit what’s bothering him. He’s really good at bottling stuff up.”

“Maybe,” I say. “It would be good if we can be friends again, eventually.”

“So, you’re really doing it?” Jongdae asks. “You’re really relocating to LA?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I shrug, forgetting my injured shoulder. It throbs, but I breathe past the pain. For some reason it feels dulled right now, like I’m experiencing everything through a filter. “Tell Minseok I’ll call him when I’m back, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jongdae says, a small frown on his face. “Have a good trip, Hyeri.”

I’m surprised when it’s Hyejun who comes to pick up my mom and me at the hotel.

“It’ll give me a chance to finally use my license,” he quips, and I make sure my seat belt is buckled securely before we take off.

Hyejun borrowed a company car to drive us. It’s one of the nicer models—the back seat is plush, with an armrest in the middle.

“My manager says they can come pick you up when you return to Seoul,” Hyejun says.

“That’s okay, Hongjoo will come get us,” I tell him.

“Shouldn’t she get reassigned?” Mom says. “She’s not coming with you to LA. I’m sure the company will want someone who can actually speak English.”

I close my eyes and remind myself that Mom doesn’t really get how close I am to Hongjoo.

“Hongjoo can speak English, Eomma.”

“But she sounds very foreign when she does,” Mom says. “I don’t know if the Hollywood execs will like that.”

I force my lips together, practically biting them to keep myself from blurting out a frustrated reply.

“So, are you really going to relocate to LA?” Hyejun asks, glancing in the mirror.

“I’m not sure,” I say at the same time my mother says, “Of course.”

Mom turns in her seat to give me a stern look. “Hyeri, you’re moving to LA for the show.”

“Yes, but that’s just for a few months. I can come back to Seoul after that.”

Mom shakes her head with a dismissive laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t just come back. What if they promote you to series regular? What if you get more auditions? You have to capitalize on this momentum, Hyeri. Hollywood is a whole new market you’re breaking into.”

Just hearing her say that makes my stomach turn. The idea of auditioning in a whole new market, trying to convince people I’m worthy all over again, makes me feel a little sick.

“The show itself will be a lot of work,” I try to say weakly. I roll down the window to help settle my stomach.

“Hyeri, no, the wind is going to ruin my hair,” Mom says.

I obediently roll the window back up.

“You good?” Hyejun asks, looking in the rearview mirror. “You’re looking pale. Is your arm hurting?”