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“She’s just excited to get to LA,” Mom answers for me. “Can you drive any faster? I want to go to the first-class lounge before our flight and fix my makeup.”

Maybe she’s right, I think. Maybe I’m just nervous. I reach for my phone, needing something to distract myself, and come up empty.

“I left my phone,” I say, trying desperately to remember where I last saw it. “Hyejun, turn around, I left my phone at the apartment.”

“We don’t have time to go back,” Mom says. “I’ll buy you another phone in the States. You’ll need one with a US number anyway.”

I frown. Does that mean I’ll lose all of my contacts too? What if someone tries to call me? What if Minseok tries to call me?

“Mom, I think Hyejun’s right, my shoulder hurts a bit,” I try. “Maybe I should take another day before we fly?”

“The tickets are nonrefundable. It’s not like you broke anything. You should be fine.”

“I’m not feeling well.” I can taste the beginning of bile rising in my throat.

“We’re almost at the bridge,” Mom says.

“Oppa, pull over,” I call out.

“Don’t be dramatic—”

“I said pull over!” I scream.

Hyejun pulls the car off the road into the parking lot of a high rise.

As soon as the brakes are on, I burst out of the car. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Minseok is in a horrible mood. He hates having his arm in a sling, but Hanbin-hyeong insists after he pulled his stitches this morning.

As Minseok passes Hyeri’s door he pauses to knock. But just like last night, she doesn’t answer. She’s either not home or not answering. And he doesn’t know which explanation frustrates him more.

He automatically reaches for his phone and then remembers it got crushed in the fight with Jeongho. Hanbin promised he’d get a replacement but has yet to do so. Another reason to be frustrated.

When Minseok steps into his room, Jongdae is waiting for him.

Yet one more thing testing his patience.

“What are you doing in here?” He doesn’t even try to hide his annoyance.

“I want to check on you.”

Minseok lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh really? Why? You feel bad that I got stabbed?”

Jongdae flinches a bit at that, but he doesn’t leave. “Yes, I do actually.”

Minseok rolls his eyes. He used to like how blunt Jongdae was, but today, like most things, it’s just getting on his nerves. “I’m tired from all the pain meds, I can’t talk.”

He flops onto his bed, then curses as his shoulder lands a bit too hard.

“You okay?” Jongdae starts forward.

“I said get out!”

Jongdae freezes and so does his expression. Then it drops into a scowl. He’s finally had enough. He’s been trying to talk to Minseok for months, but his friend has brushed him off. So, he accepted it, stayed out of Minseok’s way. Partly because of his guilt. But partly because he took the excuse not to confront the broken parts of their friendship. Now it’s getting ridiculous. Screw being careful. They’ll have it out now and if the rift between them can’t be fixed, he’ll deal with it.

“You’re using being hurt as an excuse to be an asshole,” Jongdae says.

Minseok looks astonished. “Are you serious right now?”