“Found it!” Sophie squeals.
She grabs my arm and yanks me off the bed and onto my desk chair, which she’s set in the middle of the floor beside hers. Grinning, she folds her legs up underneath herself in her seat and stares raptly at the TV.
“Sophie, are you really going to make me watch this?”
“Shh!”
Rolling my eyes, I shut up and focus my attention on the show I can’t understand. Because it’s in Korean. Which Sophie would remember if she stopped to consider it.
A snappy pop song blares through the speakers, followed by applause, as credits fade into a pan of a live audience composed almost solely of teenage girls. Many of them hold up giant signs, and I’m reminded of MTV’s TRL, which Nathan watched religiously growing up.
The camera cuts to a young guy with trendy glasses and supertight pants holding a microphone. The crowd nearly drowns out his voice as he begins the show. I start to tune out the monotonous stream of words I don’t know when the camera switches to a familiar face. My heart stops.
Sophie cuts her eyes to me, a sly grin curling her lips.
“W-what is Jason doing on TV?” I gape at the screen, soaking in every detail from his unfortunate orange-colored sweater to the way he forces an awkward smile at the show’s host.
Sophie shrugs, though she snickers. I’ve been set up.
Jason shifts on top of a metal stool, the tension in his shoulders and tightness in his expression betraying his discomfort. If I didn’t know him, I would guess he’s just an awkward guy. Everything about his posture, the halting way he answers the questions, all scream “socially challenged.” But in that moment, he’s the sexiest boy I’ve ever seen.
“What’s he saying?” I ask.
Sophie pauses, listening. “The host is asking him about Eden and why they broke up.”
Jason answers.
“He says it was because of artistic differences,” she relays. “They’re all still friends, but they wanted to do their own things creatively.” She snorts but doesn’t give her own commentary.
I realize I’m leaning forward in my chair, like it will bring me closer to Jason. With a blush, I settle against the backrest, though nervous energy zips through my body.
“Now they’re talking about his future career. Jason says he’s planning on doing some solo stuff. He’ll be working on his album starting in July.”
Disappointment seeps into my brain. Why didn’t he tell me that? He’s only been gone like two days, and he’s already keeping me out of the loop?
“He says the music is going to be a little different than Eden’s music,” Sophie continues. “His taste is different.”
Jason keeps talking, but Sophie falls silent.
“What did he say?” I ask, my voice shrill.
She waves her hand in dismissal. “Nothing important, just about that dumb drama he was in and denying rumors about him dating Na Na in real life.”
I swallow a growl, now more than ever wishing I had studied harder in Korean class.
Jason picks up an acoustic guitar, and he and the host banter for a few lines. The camera pans to the audience, all the girls staring at Jason with dreamy eyes. I recognize that look. I’ve probably had it on my own face for six months.
“The host is asking Jason if he’ll play a song.” Sophie cuts into my thoughts. “Jason says he will, but he doesn’t want to play an Eden song. He’s going to play the one he wrote for the drama he was in.”
My breath catches in my throat as the audience explodes in expectant cheers and Jason plucks the first chord progression of the song we wrote together. Without the drums and bass, it has a chilled, unplugged vibe, but he infuses the lyrics with more passion than I’ve heard him sing in anything else. He leans over the instrument, his mouth maybe an inch from the stand-up microphone, and my heart thumps against the inside of my chest so loud Sophie must hear it.
If this is the severing of my last connection to Jason, it was all worth it. If this is how I have to say goodbye, I’m still glad for the experience. I’m still glad I knew him.
He ends the song, and the crowd erupts in applause. He bows his head with a smile and says, “Thank you.”
The crowd giggles at his English.
The host asks another series of questions and Sophie translates for me, but I can’t focus. My brain rewinds back to the fall, sitting in the practice room with Jason, reviewing every facet of that song over and over again. I realize that that’s the most fun I’ve ever had, working on his music. Working on music, period.
Music’s in my blood. Why have I spent so many years denying that?
Sophie nudges me with her elbow. “You might want to listen to this part.”
I tune back in and see Jason’s still holding the guitar in his lap. His discomfort has faded, so he interacts with the host more naturally. He even laughs, and a real smile brightens his face. My heart twists.
“Jason says he wants to play one more song,” Sophie says. “But he’s asking if he can say something in English first.”
The host’s eyebrows shoot up behind his thick-framed glasses, and he addresses the crowd, which responds with more applause. Jason nods his head to acknowledge them, then looks straight into the camera.
“Hey, Grace,” he says, and I stop breathing. “If you’re watching, I just wanted to let you know this song is for you.” His face melts into a grin. “I’m holding up my end of the deal. Now, it’s your turn.”
Then he strums the guitar and launches into an acoustic version of a song I never thought I’d hear on an Asian TV show—one written by the Doors.
“Hello, I love you. Won’t you tell me your name?” he sings. “Hello, I love you. Let me jump in your game.”