I keep my revelation to myself, obviously, strangle it down with enough force that I hold my breath for a few seconds too long and get dizzy.

We’re not gonna make this weird, we’re not gonna make this weird!

I’m kind of against being a part of that kind of life—falling in love with an idol, being close enough that I’m more than just a fan that holds a special place in their heart sounds pretty crazy to me. Like, fans should stay fans, and those lines shouldn’t be crossed. There’s more to an idol than who they are on stage and mixing the two together sounds like a recipe for disappointment.

So what the hell am I doing with Jaeyong? What in the hell am I doing?

But this? Being this close to Jaeyong with my feelings all exposed like this, like a raw nerve with razor-sharp flickers of pain throwing off sparks?

Hell, I don’t know what to do, how to be, because I do know who he is off stage. At least I thought I did.

So I ignore it, these feelings that have no place hanging around, just push them down until they’re locked in some dark, dank place along with all the embarrassing memories I tend to bring out from time to time to get secondhand embarrassment all over again in the middle of the night. They provide the miserable company to my bout of homesickness and the stark realization that it feels like I’m not really living a life at all, but just running through the motions, following the rules of a written program and never going off-script.

Seriously, who needs this kind of crush on Min Jaeyong when he’s actually sitting on my couch, looking adorably flustered while his eyes skitter off-screen and land on me?

Uh-oh. This is so much worse. So, so much worse!

I find my voice, ignore the flush burning in my own cheeks, the way my pale ass must be glowing with it. “I can change it to something else if you want.”

I mean, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, and like, it is a little awkward between the two of us now. We’re blushing at each other like idiots, but the volume is still very much on, even if we’ve averted our eyes from the screen. And hell, Ryan Reynolds is built.

“No! Ryan Reynolds was made for this role, just leave it, Raleigh. I’ll get my head out of my ass. I don’t know, something about moving to Seoul when I did made me more shy in some ways and more shameless in others. TV shows are more censored than the movies, and it’s not like I had time to go to the movies when I was a trainee.”

I nod like I understand, but I really just want him to keep talking to me since I’m sure on screen I heard something about International Women’s Day and my brain’s running with those images, escaping their padlocked box, refusing to stay put.

“Must’ve been a culture shock,” I say, going for diplomatic.

There’s going to be a culture shock wherever you go, I think, cultural superstitions or etiquette that doesn’t jive with what you learned in your hometown, so yeah, it makes a lot of sense. And I know from my very limited study of South Korea (although I plan to remedy that when I can find a decent bookstore because I miss the feeling of books in my hands, screw the back pain, honestly) that it’s a more conservative country compared to Canada.

I get it.

Canada’s legalized weed across all of the provinces; South Korea—not so much.

“I don’t know, you don’t even see extremely passionate kisses on the dramas usually, and this?” He vaguely points to the screen without looking at it. “It’s a bit of a shock.”

I glance back at my TV, find those scenes to be over when Wade passes out and starts the whole story off, and when I glance back to Jaeyong, it’s to find him a little flushed and fidgeting in his seat.

“I must seem stupid to you.”

“What? Why?” I push some stray hairs off my face. “It is kinda awkward, I’ll admit, since you’re watching it with me and we’re practically strangers now, so.”

“I don’t think we’re strangers. You think we’re strangers?” Jaeyong clutches a hand over his heart, and Jesus, when did his hands get so big, when did all of him get so big, making me feel small? When did that happen?

Would I have appreciated it back then, or would I have found it just another obstacle that would have ruined our friendship because our bodies were heading in different directions?

I mean, I know he’s had girlfriends in the past, but that doesn’t really mean I can assume anything about his sexuality, that would be the height of rudeness, but still, my heart kicks in my chest at the idea of Jaeyong and some faceless girlfriend who doesn’t look a thing like me.

Oh, oh. So we’re moving that fast, huh? Why are you doing this to yourself?

Why?

“I think about it sometimes, more now, obviously, since you’re actually here,” he says, pointing at me, twirling a finger around the room, showing off that we’re sharing the same space, “but yeah, I’d think about it, what would have happened if I had stayed back in Montreal.”

I pull in a deep, deep breath, suddenly afraid, a trickle of unease sliding down my spine, hot and cold. “What do you mean?”

Jaeyong mirrors me, planting an arm on the back of the couch, rustling the fabric of his clothes, reminding me that he’s actually here and not just a figment of my imagination, that I’m not seeing him through the screen of my laptop or my phone.

Is he anything like the kid I knew? Who is he, really? “If I had stayed behind, I wouldn’t be an idol.”

I nod, ’cause yeah, that’s the logical conclusion. “Yeah, sure. You wouldn’t have this lifestyle. All for staying a few more years in Montreal? Come on. There’s no contest.”

Jaeyong blinks at me, runs a hand through his hair, tugging on it, then replacing his hat back on his head. His hair’s floppy today, kinda fluffy looking without any product to help it stay in place. His earrings are extra cool, too, the hoops connected by chains from his lobe to the double piercings in his helix.

Maybe he’ll want to come with me when I get my rook pierced? Is that a thing a friend can do with their super-famous idol friend?

Yeah, sure, right? Sounds like a plan in my dreams.

“I think about it. How my life changed so much after I left. Thought about you a lot, was really fucking pissed when I never got an email, and my mom lost her special old school phone book when we moved who had everybody’s phone number in the history of the world.”

Ah, yeah, Mrs. Min’s phone book, the big blocky, red book that looked like it was falling apart at the seams and that she used to carry everywhere with her in her purse. It seems like we were fated to lose touch with one another, like it was meant to be.

“It would’ve been nice to have talked to you, too. High school sucked after you left.” I pinch the material of my sweats, rubbing my fingers over the cotton.

Jaeyong laughs at that, as if having missed him so much is nothing more than a laughable offense. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

I stand up from my seat and cross my legs when I sit back down, getting comfortable, keeping my hands in my lap so I don’t randomly lean over to throttle him. That would be bad. “Sorry, buddy, but you don’t know that.”

Jaeyong grins, delighted. “You had Jamie Theriault after you since the seventh grade.” He rolls his eyes, glancing up at my ceiling, leaning his head back and exposing his throat to me. And yeah, it’s a nice freaking throat. Yikes. “I’m sure at prom you were king and queen.”

I laugh at him, straight out laugh, right in front of his beautiful face. “Jaeyong. Jaeyong. No.” I shake my head at him, trying to stifle my hideous snorting. “Oh my God, the only reason he’d hang around us was because of you. Jamie was madly in love with you.”

“What?!”

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hold my abs together ’cause I’m busting a gut. I laugh up at the ceiling, sniffing when I look back at him, at his confused face, his mouth slack, eyes wide, looking all confused and lost. I have the stupid urge to hug him, soothe him in some way, maybe just run a hand down his arm, hidden underneath his jacket, wanting to touch another human being in a way that means something.

It scares me how much I want it, making my teeth ache with that kind of longing so that my laugh dies down in stops and starts, until I rub at my eyes, swiping away the tears left over from my laughter.

“Jamie was into me? Holy shit, I was blind back then, huh?”

I rub at my nose, startled when the shooting starts in the movie before glancing back at Jaeyong. “You’re an attractive guy. Jamie came out as bi in the tenth or eleventh grade by wearing the flag to school those last few weeks at the end of term in June. Didn’t say anything, just let the flag speak for itself.”

“Wow. That’s the way to do it if you’re gonna go hard.”

I nod, smiling when my stomach howls in hunger. Jaeyong lifts his phone up and reminds me that the food is literally five minutes away, so I end up pausing the movie, nabbing plates, glasses and cutlery from the kitchen and towing them to the living room and set them on top of my tiny coffee table.

My sweats nearly fall while I make my way back to my living room, and I get an adrenaline rush that I’m able to set everything down and grab the waistband of my pants before something terrible happens like I flash Jaeyong my pretty underwear.

This is not that kind of visit despite the fact that Jaeyong looks like my dream boyfriend.

No big deal.