I laugh, tears pooling in my eyes. Jason adds a dramatic growl into his voice during the second chorus, and I choke on a giggle, a sob catching in my throat. I don’t realize the tears are spilling onto my cheeks until Sophie takes my hand and gives it a quick squeeze.
At the end of the song, the audience screams and claps even louder than before, and even the host joins in the applause. He says something into the camera, and the screen cuts to another commercial. But my mind is reeling. Jason sang for me. He addressed me on a television show. He sang to me.
My phone buzzes, and I fumble to pull it out of my pocket.
I answer without even looking at the number. “Hello?”
“Grace.”
The familiar voice fills me with warmth that seeps all the way down to the tips of my fingers and toes, and I can’t suppress the idiotic grin from forming on my face.
“Hi.”
“Did you hear it?” Jason asks.
“Yeah.”
He’s quiet a moment, then says, “I just won major points there, right?”
I laugh, my entire body tingling. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”
“Grace?”
“Hmm?”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” I whisper.
“You don’t have to miss me anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
He chuckles, and I feel like I’ve melted. “I left something for you.”
I glance at Sophie, who points out our window. I peek outside and see Young Jo, the Bae’s private driver, standing beside the car. He holds one of those signs chauffeurs have when they pick up people from the airport. It says GRACE in big, bold letters.
I gasp.
“Hey, I need to go,” he says, another noise in the background muffling his voice. “Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.”
And he hangs up.
I gape at the phone, like it’ll answer all my questions.
Sophie peers out at Young Jo. “Pretty romantic, if you ask me.”
I stare out the window, my brain racing. I already said goodbye. It was sweet of him to stick with our deal about me trying to become a music producer if he introduced South Korea to the Doors, but I can’t handle saying goodbye to him again. No matter if he is my best friend and I have difficulty breathing without him here. Because if I go now, I know I’ll get sucked into loving him for good. And I can’t lose someone else I love.
“What are you going to wear?” Sophie asks. “Because I expect to see you in something hot.”
I collapse into my chair, my elation fizzling. “I can’t go.”
“What do you mean you can’t go?” she demands. “He just sang to you on TV! You have to go!”
“Sophie—”
“What? What possible excuse could you have?”
“I need to keep researching colleges.”
“You can do that on the way there. That’s why you pay for expensive Internet on your phone.”
“I can’t leave all my stuff here. I need to move out of the dorm. Are you going to pack it all for me?”
She barks a laugh. “No way, but it’ll be here when you get back. The school doesn’t require you to get out for a few more days. You can come back and get it.”
I squirm, searching my brain for any other excuse. “I don’t have any clean clothes.”
She raises her eyebrows. “What do you think Febreze is for?”
When I still don’t move, she sighs and gets up to place both of her hands on my shoulders. Leveling a hard gaze at me, she says, “Grace, you know I love you, but you’re being an idiot right now. A boy just did probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in real life for you, and you’re not going to go be with him?”
I stare back at her a second, the truth of her words seeping in. Then I break away from her grip, pull my biggest purse out of my wardrobe, and start throwing in any article of clothing I can find. Sophie hands me my toothbrush and other toiletries, and I toss in a few pairs of shoes for good measure. I have no idea how long I’ll be gone.
Slamming open the door, I give the room one more sweep to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything important.
“Why are you taking so long?” Sophie cries, waving me off. “Get out of here! Go!”
And I do.
Chapter Twenty-eight
For the entire drive, I can’t focus on anything around me. I keep looking at my watch, thinking at least twenty minutes have passed, only to find that it’s been five. When we reach the outskirts of the city, I shoot Jason a text: I’m in Seoul!
A second later, he responds, Waiting for you outside.
I have no idea what he means until Young Jo pulls up in front of a gigantic building in the middle of downtown. I crane my neck back and spot the posters, the big sign that says STAR ENTERTAINMENT in both Hangul and English—Jason’s agency.
I jump out of the car onto the busy sidewalk, searching each face that passes for the one waiting on me. My heart sinks when I don’t see him.
I press the phone to my ear to call him, still scanning the sidewalk, when I see a familiar smile on a guy with aviator sunglasses. Standing at the bottom of the building’s steps, he waves.
Catching my breath, I break into a run down the sidewalk. Dropping my bag at his feet, I throw myself into Jason’s arms with an embarrassing squeal.
He staggers backwards, nearly losing his balance. With his palms pressed against my back and the tips of my toes just brushing the ground, a chuckle rumbles deep in the back of his throat.
People around us stare, and a few of them do a double take, like they wonder if that’s really Jason Bae, and if it is, why he’s hugging a white girl.
I pull back until I can see his face, and I push the sunglasses up so they rest on top of his head. “Hi,” I say.
He grins. “Hi.”
A camera flashes, and I jump back from Jason. A girl snaps another shot with her phone, and Jason slips his hand into mine and leads me inside the building.