“I thought Korean New Year’s was supposed to be a family thing.”
She scrunches her nose. “Umm … it is. But my mom said it was okay for me to go to the party with Jason instead, so we’re good.” She gives me a serious look. “You can’t ditch me.”
“I have homework.”
“Don’t even start that. If I’m not worried about homework, you’re not allowed to be.”
She has a point. I do have homework, but the truth is I don’t want to see Jason. I get twitchy when I think about another entire semester of sitting beside him in class every day.
Sophie digs through the pile of clothes I just washed that’s resting on top of my bed and throws a black dress at my face. “You’re wearing this. Let’s go.”
I groan, knowing I can’t win. But I take my time getting ready, passive-aggressively hoping we’ll be late. When I’ve finished curling my hair and touching up my makeup, Sophie’s standing by the door with both our purses in hand.
We rush downstairs and meet up with all three boys of Eden. I try not to notice Jason wearing the black leather jacket I bought him for Christmas when it was on sale and I wasn’t pissed at him, and instead wrap my arms around my middle and stare down at my fuchsia heels, shivering in the six inches of snow that fell last night.
We jump into the limo and begin the long trek to Seoul. The boys are booked for a big bash downtown that their agency wants them to be seen at; it’s the kind with lots of star power and schmoozing. When Sophie heard her biggest celebrity crush was going to be in attendance, she weaseled her way into the party—dragging me along with her.
We reach downtown around seven thirty. Traffic’s light, since most people are at home with their families, but when we reach the club, there are so many people standing outside I can’t even see the front door.
The limo pulls up to the curb, and I crawl out behind Sophie, only to be met by a hurricane of flashing lights. A roar of screams fills my ears as Sophie links her arm through mine and we follow the boys down a short carpeted path to the front door, lined on either side by fans clamoring to get around the ropes separating them from their favorite stars. It’s not a red carpet—it’s white—but I feel like a celebrity all the same.
A bouncer hurries us down the line, and we slip inside the dark club. The cigarette smoke and heat in the air press against my face, which still smarts from the cold outside, and when someone offers to take my coat, I peel it off as fast as I can.
The club’s decorated like a swanky lounge, with plush black chairs and sofas crowded with guys in flashy shirts and girls wearing lots of eyeliner. Arrangements of tall white candles litter the corners, and the bar sits inside a sunken seating area in the middle of the room.
An R&B song plays, giving the entire club a cool, relaxed vibe, but the crowds of well-dressed, beautiful Koreans send my anxiety levels rocketing through the ceiling. I scan the dimly lit room and find zero other Westerners. Or normal-looking people. It’s like the club only lets in gorgeous people—and me. I take a reflexive step closer to Sophie.
Eden’s manager pounces on us as soon as we’re inside, and he shuffles the boys away from the entrance. Tae Hwa grabs Sophie’s hand, and a surge of relief floods me as we follow them through the club.
Yoon Jae falls into step with me.
“Excited?” he asks.
I scratch the back of my neck, offering him a self-conscious laugh. “I don’t really know what to be excited about.”
He grins. “Maybe we can dance again, like we did on Jason and Sophie’s birthday.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks, but Yoon Jae isn’t the one filling my memories from that night. “You’re a way better dancer than me. I’d just embarrass myself.”
He bumps his shoulder against mine. “You’re a good dancer.”
“Not as good as you.”
He laughs. “Maybe. But I’ve had more practice. My mom got me into lessons when I was seven.”
My eyes bug. “You’ve been dancing that long?”
He nods, flashing me a wry smile. “But it was traditional dancing. From China. Because my mother was Chinese. She didn’t let me do cool dancing until I was ten.”
I laugh with him, and when he puts his hand on my shoulder to guide me around a pair of tipsy girls sloshing their drinks, warmth blossoms underneath my skin. My eyes shoot to Jason, but he’s walking ahead of us, chatting with their manager.
“Sophie told me your dad lives in Beijing,” I say, forcing my attention back to Yoon Jae. “Is that where your mom’s from?”
His smile fades, and he diverts his gaze to the floor. “It is. That’s also where I grew up. My father moved back there after my mother died two years ago.”
“Oh, I’m—I’m so sorry!”
I place my hand on his shoulder, but I catch Jason peering back at us, and my hand slips back into place at my side. The stormy look in his eyes forms a knot in my stomach.
Eden’s manager deposits us in a private room, and before we even have time to order, a round of drinks arrives.
I sit on the long leather couch between Yoon Jae and Sophie, but she and Tae Hwa disappear after only a few minutes. Although Yoon Jae continues to talk to me, the tension in the room rises until I can’t believe he doesn’t notice it. Jason sits in the corner, keeping silent. He stares daggers at Yoon Jae, which isn’t unusual, but then I catch Yoon Jae scowling at Jason. Weird.