Jaeyong glances up, catching my eye and then shakes his head.

“Eomma, I didn’t know it was her, I just knew she was a foreigner, and I was nervous because I couldn’t assume she would speak English, and then I had all the other languages in my head fighting for dominance. I couldn’t even form words until Raleigh started talking to me, in French, handing me over that manga I thought I had lost.”

Mr. Min rolls his eyes. “Always with the manga with you. Go on, go on.”

Jaeyong coughs into his fist, rubs his hands along his thighs, peering over at me more often than not.

Oh, oh, he’s getting uncomfortable now. Why?

“And Raleigh just handed it over, said something like ‘you forgot this’, and I glanced down at it, my brain sort of hurting in a weird way as I grabbed at the manga, seeing how beaten up it was, thinking it was odd that it wasn’t new, that it looked so old and used up.

“My heart started to beat so fast, and so hard, and then I opened it to the first page and saw my name there, it was like I travelled back in time, and I remembered that I had lent this to Raleigh, and she was giving it back to me now, in the present, and it was crazy. I thought I was going crazy for a little while there. I mean, why would she suddenly show up in Seoul, of all places? Why would she still have the manga?” Jaeyong shakes his head, looking at me, a smile on his lips, looking soft and sweet, and my heart gives a painful twist just by looking at him.

It’s the dimples, they have magic powers, I’m sure of it.

“And then we started talking, well talking for as much time as we had, there was still a whole line behind me and I knew I couldn’t take up all of his time, so I just told him that I left my phone number on a certain page, and if he wanted to hang out around his extremely busy idol schedule, then I would meet him somewhere, if he wanted to.” I say, shrugging, the Mins giving me curious, assessing glances.

“It’s not every day that you find out an old friend has become super famous.”

Mr. Min nods, silent, and Mrs. Min takes down yet another shot of soju.

“How is your mother doing? Her health is well?” Mr. Min asks, and that homesickness strangles me by the throat, hard enough that it’s a real effort to get the words out. I lie about everything being dandy back home, but they knew what it was really like way back when. I’m pretty sure they know that I’m lying.

It goes like that, the back and forth of easy conversation, years’ worth of topics to discuss.

I learn so much, and yet not enough, and by the time we’ve eaten the dessert I brought over (me abstaining as much as possible while the Mins try to stuff me with more food and I relent, obviously, I’m not stupid), it’s time for me to go back to my apartment.

I have a regular day job and my eyelids are getting heavy from invisible weights, sand steadily creeping into each eyeball as it gets closer and closer to my bedtime.

“I’ll get you a car,” Jaeyong says as I bite back yet another yawn, eyes tearing up with the strain of it along my jaw.

I shake my head. “You got me one to get here; the guy wouldn’t even take my money. No, I’ll get myself a taxi, don’t worry about it.” I wave him off, knuckling under my eyes so my mascara doesn’t run.

I stand up, start gathering dishes, diving into my energy stores to do this one last thing before I’m shooed away, and Jaeyong practically hip-checks me across the room with plates in my hands, and orders me to leave everything alone, but I’m not listening.

“Where do you live, Raleigh?” Mrs. Min asks, as I shuffle plates and chopsticks and spoons and dishes into my arms, as many as I can carry from my years and years of being a waitress to pay for school and my eyeshadow palette addiction over the years. I give her my address, and the man nods, but it feels like there’s more to it than that.

I researched the shit out of my neighborhood, and while any neighbourhood can have bad things happen, I’m in a pretty good area of Seoul, and overall the city is safer than back home in terms of crime. It doesn’t mean that I’m not vigilant or aware of my surroundings, but still, having Mr. Min heavily nod his head like he’s being understanding of my situation has my stomach twisting, my eyes narrowing like I’m trying to figure out a jigsaw puzzle from hell.

“Jaeyong can see you there,” Mr. Min says with finality, and Jaeyong sighs, long and loud.

“No, no, honestly, it’s not necessary.” I place dishes in the sink after throwing out leftover food in the compost, taking care of the waste. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Jaeyong’s frowning too now, looking between me and his dad as if we colluded to put him in this situation.

I smirk at him. “I’ll be fine. Have another chapssaltteok on me, okay? I promise I’ll be fine.”

Jaeyong bites at his bottom lip, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweats, shoulders slumping. “I can drive you, actually. If you want.”

I tilt my head at him. “You sure you don’t want to rub it in my face how far up in the world you’ve come?” I grin, saying it in jest, but Jaeyong’s shoulders hike up to his ears, transforming his big body into a turtle. Huh.

“I’m joking. You know I’m joking, right? It’s late, too, the drive back’s gotta be long, no?”

I’m trying to let him off the hook, trying to give him an out, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to take it.