Page 47 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)

J ihoon shut the front door with a sigh. Seokmin had come downstairs to moan about not being able to go home for Seollal this Saturday. I swear, he’d ranted for two straight hours.

I rubbed a hand up Jihoon’s back, feeling the tight muscles bunched under my fingers.

“He’s just upset,” I soothed.

“They’re all upset,” he grumbled, turning around to pull me into a hug.

It didn’t escape my notice that he hadn’t included himself in that.

Despite his turbulent relationship with his parents, he had been planning to go to Busan this weekend for the holiday.

He hadn't asked if I'd wanted to go with him.

I'd tried not to think about that too closely, but I wasn't ready for a family meet-and-greet, anyway, so I guess it didn't matter now.

Seollal was a national holiday, so ENT was mostly planning to close. Hana had mentioned taking me out around Seoul, but that was now out the window.

“It’s just a seasonal flu,” he grumbled into my neck, and I bit back my own response.

Jihoon and I had very different opinions on the new virus that was apparently spreading like wildfire.

But apparently, ENT and I were of the same mind, as they had put out a memo this morning that all ‘assets’ – meaning music artists and actors managed by them – were ‘strongly advised’ to cancel their travel plans until advised otherwise.

It wasn’t a straight-up demand, but the wording had the same effect.

I was more wary about this ‘seasonal flu’ than Jihoon was. I mostly watched BBC for news – there was just something so relaxing about tuning in occasionally to something that had been such a constant in my life, here on the literal other side of the world.

As a kid, getting ready for school in the mornings involved pulling a pile of clothes into my parent’s bedroom and getting changed in there, watching the BBC morning news.

In the evenings, my dad was always sat in the living watching the nine o’clock broadcast without fail.

It was as much a part of my early memories as brushing my teeth.

While the stoic, British broadcasters weren’t projecting much untoward alarm, there had been an undercurrent of it these past weeks.

The BBC emphasis had very much been on the newness of it, while the American news channels seemed more concerned with which bat had been eaten at which food market.

Both seemed to imply that both of these things made it more serious than a normal, ‘seasonal flu’.

Despite this, work had started to fall into a rhythm now that the new year was in full swing.

Engagements for artists were a daily occurrence, and I was starting to grasp the sheer scope of ENT’s world.

They managed dozens of artists, from full-fledged groups, including GVibes, and PrettyYOUngthings – the current two biggest groups – pre-debut groups, solo artists and actors, to older generation groups that were still wildly successful – one of which was currently on tour, and the other was serving in the military as part of South Korea’s mandatory enlistment service.

I knew in theory about the mandatory service, but I’d naively thought it was a little bit like Cubs for young adults; something you did in your free time.

I’d had no idea that all eligible Korean men had to enlist for a minimum of eighteen months.

No one in GVibes had enlisted yet, meaning that at some point, before they turned 30 years old, they had to enlist. Other groups took a hiatus during this time. Others simply disbanded.

I’d tried not to think about what would happen when GVibes had to enlist. Minjae was turning 27 this year.

The only time it had really come up in conversation was during the War of the Eleven Years – as I privately called it – when Jihoon had implied the length of time they were enlisted was just another time slot in the grand scheme of being his secret girlfriend.

Working at ENT had given me a little more insight into what enlistment actually looked like for the artists and the company.

If there was a formal plan for the group, Jihoon hadn’t said, but I privately suspected this world tour would be the last one they did before the enlistment period started.

When I’d seen the mock-up for the world tour, I hadn’t tried to suppress my awe.

They’d originally had just shy of 70 dates booked, but they’d bumped that up to do more dates in the bigger cities.

They were now doing four shows in the UK, instead of just two, and somehow, they were cramming all those performances into ten months.

Nearly a whole year of airports, set lists, sound checks and a revolving door of venues and hotels.

I couldn’t begin to imagine the toll that must take on a person; physically and mentally.

But in the moment, I’d selfishly only been able to think of how it would affect me.

I’d thrown a total tantrum over it – properly chucked my toys out of the pram when I saw the list. I’m not proud of how I reacted.

We'd just gotten home after a particularly long day at work.

I'd spent the car ride curled around Jihoon.

It was only on reflection that I realised how quiet he'd been.

He'd waited until I'd taken off my shoes and coat before saying he needed to talk to me about something – which, in my defence, would put anyone on the back foot.

So, when he went on to describe how he and the group would be travelling for nearly a year, with very few opportunities to return to Korea, I admit I didn't take it well.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do here while you’re half-way around the world?

Again!” I’d raised a hand to my face, feeling the wetness on my cheeks.

It had been part frustration, part a kind of grief I couldn’t admit to.

We’d just gotten to this point, and in a few months, he’d be gone, and I’d be left on my own again.

I had been so angry with myself for feeling this way, when I’d known good and well what I was signing up for when I’d gotten into this relationship with him – a world famous K-Pop artist. I’d known he had a world tour coming up, but it had seemed so ephemeral, an indeterminate point in the future that it never crossed my mind that I’d be left behind.

“Jagiya,” he tried to reason with me, his own frustration clear in the lines of his face, and the placating way he held his hands out to me, but it only made me feel more ridiculous.

I refused to be that kind of girlfriend; needy and waiting up every night for her boyfriend to come home. I was capable of independence, damnit!

I turned around, too late to hide my tears, but I set my shoulders and took in a deep breath, trying to rein myself in before my emotions tumbled out of me in a way I couldn’t control.

“Baby,” the softly spoken word so close to my ear, I hadn’t heard him come up behind me. I felt his large, warm hands on my shoulders, and I bit my lip to force them to not shake.

I was just so tired of long-distance relationships. Sick of saying goodbye, again and again.

“Ky, look at me, please.” His tone was as heavy as a cloud full of rain, and reluctantly, I turned. His hands traced over my skin as I moved.

With pain, I saw his eyes, shiny with the unshed tears that I had no problem letting fall down my own face, and instinctively I’d reached up to cup his cheek, needing the connection that kept us grounded to each other.

“Ky…”

His chin wobbled, and I gasped on the edge of a sob barely held together.

“I – I can’t be without you again.”

His head dropped as if holding it up were too much of a burden.

“I won’t. I already told Director Kang that you’re coming.”

I froze, still in the motion of reaching my other hand up to touch his chest.

“You-what?”

He brought his head up just enough to hold my gaze, even as his newly-dyed blue hair fell into his eyes. “I need you. I told her you were coming.”

“Just like that?” I hardly dared to breathe.

He smiled, a tremulous hint of dimples teasing at the edge of his lips.

“Well, there were a few more words.”

“I’m coming with you?”

My heart thumped so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d heard it.

He nodded, carefully watching my expression.

There was no thought. One moment I was standing in front of him, the next I had launched myself at him.

“Oof,” he grunted, barely catching me as my legs wound tightly around his hips, and his hands cupped my ass. I twined my arms around his neck as I unashamedly sobbed into his warm skin.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” He gasped and I loosened my arms. Slightly.

I couldn’t speak, I could barely breathe through the cries. Jihoon rubbed soothing circles into my back with one hand as he patted my backside with the other, eliciting a wet laugh from me.

He’d told Director Kang, before even asking if I wanted to come, and maybe that should have bothered me, that he’d made the choice for me, but honestly all I felt was... chosen. He hadn’t taken the choice from me; he’d made it for us.

When he’d asked me to come to Korea, it had been me, moving for him, but this – bringing me with him on tour, it was because he couldn’t be without me and this time he was moving with me. It felt huge.

Ever since then, we’d made plans for what we’d do in each city we visited.

Some of it was pure fallacy. I mean, no way would we get enough time together to see half the stuff we wanted to, but the dream was something that brought me joy.

It would not be a holiday, though. I would be working the entire time we were travelling, and Jihoon even more so.

I was going to be joining other, more experienced techs and roadies.

Normally, junior assistants didn’t travel, let alone join the world tours, but I was the exception and in this, I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit that I was being singled out for special treatment.

In this, I would not prioritise how I felt about that, over how I felt about him.

He came first.