Page 54 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)

Eventually, the members of GVibes came back on stage, changed into different outfits than what they’d worn for the performance. My eyes automatically honed in on Jihoon. He looked up and caught my gaze, very briefly, before sweeping back over the assembled crowd.

The members took their seats facing out into the auditorium, bowing in acknowledgement as the MC – an ENT public relations representative – introduced them.

The MC began a dialogue with the group, and without me needing to ask, Hana translated for me. She seemed to fall into it naturally, repeating what I gathered was a word-for-word translation.

I marvelled at how quickly she was able to do it. Korean was her first language, but she’d grown up in Auckland, speaking English at school.

“He’s asking them to describe what to expect from the upcoming album,” she muttered to me, as we both watched the PR rep grinning at the guys.

Minjae, naturally, picked up his mic to reply. I listened with half an ear to Jae, and half to Hana as she spoke.

“This is the first time each of us has directly contributed to song writing,” she said. “In the past, we’ve worked with talented song writers, and we’ve each had a creative input, but we’ve never done it ourselves before.”

She paused, and we listened to the MC respond.

“He’s asking what the album is about.”

This time, Woojin picked up his mic.

“Each track on the album represents something about each of us. Some of the tracks are…” Hana paused, humming as she searched for the word.

“Darker. Less upbeat than you will have heard from us. It’s a reflection of our maturity.

We wanted to show another side to who we are.

We wanted to show honesty. Not everything is always perfect. We are only human.”

Hana looked frustrated, and I wondered if she was struggling with the translation.

The members went on to talk more about the album and the upcoming music videos they were filming, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know, thanks to Joon.

I enjoyed watching the way the members interacted with each other.

It was different from how they were around each other in real life.

There was still banter, but there was something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Respect? Admiration? It was in the little looks they exchanged, the small moments of deference.

Giving over their full attention. It was the acknowledgment of shared experience, a collective effort to become who they now were.

I could watch them for a whole year and still learn something new the next day. Their bond was something to be envious of.

Finally, the floor was opened up, and the MC began to pick members out from the press to ask questions. It was nothing ground breaking: what inspired this, or that. What country are you most looking forward to visiting, that sort of thing.

And then, perhaps predictably, the question came that made everyone in the room sit up a little straighter. It was a question that I knew had been expressly banned, but here it was.

I knew it, before I even heard Hana’s translation, especially as she nearly quavered with barely-suppressed glee.

“Jihoon-ssi, I’m sure you’re aware there has been a lot of public speculation following the leaked footage from LA. You’ve not released any kind of statement, but don’t you feel your fans deserve an explanation? Can you tell us anything about it?”

I forced my body to remain motionless, hardly daring to breath beyond a shallow inhalation. It seemed as though the whole auditorium had taken a collective breath. I wondered how Jihoon could stand to be the focus of such intense scrutiny. Every single eye in the room was laser-focused on him.

My heart thumped painfully as I watched his quiet composure. I felt a sudden desperate need for him to look over at me, at the same time I felt a freezing pulse of fear that he might.

He sighed, barely perceptibly, and picked up his microphone.

“I know there’s been a lot of speculation lately, and ENT has already released a statement confirming the footage is real. Beyond that… I’m not sure what else I can say.”

Hearing Joon’s words come out of Hana’s mouth was jarring. I watched his mouth move, I heard the words come out, but I couldn’t understand them, until Hana translated them seconds later.

“The truth is, I barely have time to eat or sleep. Between schedules, training, and everything else, a relationship just… doesn’t fit into that. It’s not realistic."

"I understand why people are curious, and I’m grateful that so many fans care. But if there was someone else involved, even hypothetically, I think it would be incredibly unfair to pull them into this.”

Jihoon took a breath, and it looked like the MC was about to jump in, but then Jihoon spoke again.

“My focus is – and has to be – entirely on work right now.”

Silence followed, but it was short lived. Clearly the MC had been selected for a reason, and this time he did jump in, and though Hana did not translate, it was clear he was shuffling the conversation back on track.

My focus though was entirely on the man I loved, sitting on stage, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else.

I barely heard anything that Hana went on to translate. All I could hear was was what Jihoon had said.

I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing the plates left from this morning, when Jihoon came through the front door.

He called my name.

“In here,” I called back.

A moment later, strong, warm arms wrapped around my waist, filling me with a sense of peace so complete it almost erased the discomfort I’d felt for hours. Almost.

Jihoon peppered light kisses up the curve of my neck, tracing my skin from collarbone to jaw. I giggled at the slight tickle.

“Hmm, I love that sound,” he murmured against my ear.

“You’re in a good mood,” I commented lightly, the washing-up forgotten, bubbles fizzing in the sink.

“I have my hands on my woman – why would I not be?”

He bit down gently on my earlobe before spinning me around in his arms. I squealed and held my hands away from him.

“Joon, I’m all wet!”

He grinned, but it was more mischief than amusement. “Not yet.”

He pulled my hips hard against his, but I leaned back, still trying to keep my sudsy hands away from him.

“Joon, come on.”

I pulled away and after a moments hesitation, he let me go.

“Gwenchana?” he asked with a half-smile. He’d started slipping small bits of Korean into our conversations. He’d said it was to help me practice, but I suspected it was more to do with how much he enjoyed talking to me in his language.

“Ne, gwenchana,” I replied automatically.

But was I okay? I’d asked myself that all evening. I felt… weird. Off-center, somehow.

I couldn’t stop replaying his response at the press conference, and while I knew it had been the right thing to say, I couldn’t seem to get over how it had made me feel.

Invisible.

I reached for a tea towel, drying my hands methodically, using the action to put a measure of distance between us that suddenly felt necessary for me to be able to breathe.

“Ky?” His question followed me, and I waved a hand over my shoulder.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Did you watch the show? I thought I saw you in the back.”

He leaned his hip against the counter, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yes.” I didn’t turn around as I answered. “I was by the sound booth.”

There was a beat of silence, and I hated how I felt the awkwardness grow. It made the air feel thick between us.

“Did you enjoy it?”

I tossed the towel down on the counter and turned to face him. I pulled a smile up onto my face.

“It was awesome,” I said truthfully. “You guys did a great job.”

He nodded, like he’d expected that answer.

“Then why are you sad?”

The question took me by surprise, and the automatic response was past my lips before I’d even consciously thought to respond. “I’m not sad.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Maybe not sad, but you are something.”

He pushed off the counter and crossed the short distance between us, placing his hands on either side of me. I was surrounded by him, physically and metaphorically.

I sighed, allowing my head to drop in the space between us.

“It’s stupid,” I mumbled.

“Tell me anyway.”

I tried to structure my thoughts into something that didn’t sound so needy. Something that a rational person might say.

“I was at the press conference too,” I said, not raising my head.

“Okay…”

“I guess–” I sighed again. “I guess I just didn’t like hearing the way you had to deny my existence.

“I mean, I get it,” I hurried on, before he could object. “We always agreed you’d deny it…” Actually, ‘agreed’ wasn’t quite what we’d done on the subject, I couldn’t help thinking.

“I just didn’t expect to be there when you said it. And–”

Jihoon brought his hands to my face, gently tipping it up to so I had to meet his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“I–” I faltered. “You know… the bit about, ‘It’s not realistic...’”

Jihoon frowned. “Where did you get that translation?”

His question surprised me. “My colleague. She speaks Korean and English. She translated it during the conference.”

His eyes searched mine. I couldn’t tell what he was looking for.

“And this is what upsets you?”

“No.” Yes. “I understand why you said it. I guess I just wasn’t expecting to have to confront the public denial today.” I tried to smile, to pass it off as no big deal, but my emotions felt too tangled to properly articulate.

“Jagiya,” he said softly, “what exactly did she translate?”

I frowned, trying to remember. I repeated as much as I could remember, which, on reflection, was most of it. Turns out, more of it had stuck than I realised.

Jihoon pulled back, his mouth tightening. “That’s not what I said.”

I blinked. “Which part?”

“Well,” he amended, “it’s close, but it wasn’t so… brutal. Not so final.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, “maybe she got it wrong. What did you say?”

“I said that I understood the curiosity, and how much I appreciated all the support I’ve been shown by the public.

I said that I chose this life, but other people had not, and it was not fair to pull them into my life.

I said that my focus has always been on the music, and our fans, and that wasn’t going to change.

I said I cherish the love from our fans, and asked that they not try to speculate on the footage that was illegally obtained. ”

I mulled it over. It was close, but the meaning wasn’t quite so bleak. It felt like it wasn’t quite a denial, but not a confirmation, either.

“Are you sure this person is a friend of yours?” Jihoon’s mouth was pinched in a tight line.

I shrugged. “Sometimes, I wonder,” I admitted. “It was probably just a mis-translation. You said it yourself – the meaning was close.”

He made a noise in his throat that was like the real translation of his words; neither confirmation, nor denial.