Chapter 40

My scars, I will show it all

I was getting ready for bed when my phone pinged on the nightstand.

Claire. I looked down at my phone, my lips curving.

And the smile plummeted from my face.

No.

She's calling me.

She's calling me.

She's calling—

The phone buzzed again, so suddenly I jerked backwards, my hand going out to steady myself and hitting the nightstand. I was dimly aware of the glass I had there falling and shattering against the floor; dimly aware of the mattress under me. Everything was dark screens, red lights, call icons, contact name 엄마.

This wasn't like before. I didn't have the luck of missing it, not having to face the decision. She was somewhere out there, holding her phone, calling me right now.

I picked up the phone, noticing my hands were unsteady by the way it kept shaking in my grasp. You can't pick up the call. You can't. What could I say? What should I say? I hadn't seen her in years, hadn't spoken to her in years, hadn't replied to her attempts to contact me.

Still, though, every moment I stared down at the screen without swiping to the right felt like another booming footstep coming closer and closer to me, another nail hammering down my coffin around me. Nowhere to go.

Pinned, like a mouse in a trap.

The ringing cut off sharply as the call went to voicemail, suffocating the room with silence, and then—

And then nothing. The footsteps were gone and I could breathe again. She hadn't left a voicemail.

The pressure on my chest eased, like the weight of a coffin being lifted, but—not entirely. I could still feel it hovering inches above me, waiting. Waiting to close over me again, and this time, I wouldn't get out.

I swallowed, rubbing at the skin of my chest, like that would help lighten it. God, was I really seeing my life flash before my eyes at a single phone call I didn't even accept? I had acted like a deer in headlights: frozen. Even though I was the only one in the room, I felt my face burn. What would my mother say if she could see me now, freaked out because of a ringing phone. Freaked out by the mere shadow of her. Embarrassment prickled hotly over my face, and I realized my entire body had tightened, bracing itself for a blow that would never come.

It caught me off-guard. Why would she want to call me now, out of the blue? Maybe because she knew I was leaving soon, flying back to the U.S., though I didn't know how that was possible, and I still had a little less than a week.

A little less than a week. Damn.

I hadn't fully realized my time in Korea was coming so quickly to an end until Talk Time two days ago, when Chan had brought it up. Last thing, he had said, moving away from Jeongin for the first time since Jeongin had opened up to them all. Yeji, I understand that you're leaving soon—a week from today.

I'd had to check the date, surprised, and then confirmed it and had to watch as the members' faces fell in unison.

But ... we were going to go to the amusement park together, once we were done with evals, Jisung had said.

Maybe we'll still have time, I'd told him, hating myself for the crestfallen look on his face. Maybe it would have been better to just kick a puppy instead of telling them.

Time. There is nothing in this world easier to take for granted.

Time was what I thought I had more than enough of, when I was dreaming of leaving Korea and my mother's shadows but not acting on it, not yet. Just a few more years in this house, I had told myself, and then I can get out. But when my mother told me I would be attending a university less than an hour away from our house, I realized I would never be "out" while she had any say over my life.

Time was what kept me there, too. Time was the remuneration I paid to fulfill my duty as a daughter, as the first-born, as the child of my mother. Time was the piece of myself I was expected to give to my family, that had been sealed and handed over before I had taken my first breath.

Time was one of the many things I got back when I moved to America and looked out at the path of the next four years of my life: unpaved, unplanned, untraveled. Unrushed. It was also maybe the biggest thing I felt guilty for before I realized that although my family had obligated me to give up my time in certain ways, it was no one's choice but my own. That's the thing about family: a lot of times it seems like they should be able to weigh in or sway the choices you make about your life because they're the ones that gave it to you. But there's a difference between giving life and living it.  Your life will only ever be yours, the way your past is yours, the way your scars are yours. The way your future is yours.

Now, my time belongs to no one but myself, and however guilty I feel that I didn't use it the way my parents wanted me to, I cannot feel guilty about choosing to spend a few weeks of it with Stray Kids.

Not when they've taught me so much, shown me so much. They've helped me in more ways than I thought possible, and I hope I've helped them too, at least a little bit. I have messed some things up—and I am intent on fixing them—but I still have until Sunday.

I still have time.

-

"Everyone come to the living room. Now," Chan's voice called. I frowned, sitting up in my bed.

Hyunjin opened his door at the same time as I did. He arched his head at me in question, brows furrowed; I shrugged and walked out to the living room, him following close behind.

Jisung joined us a second later; Changbin was already there. Chan was on the phone, speaking in a low voice. "Five minutes. Okay." He hung up, turning to us.

"JYP is coming here."

Jisung laughed. "Good one, hyung."

A second passed, Chan saying nothing, and the smile slowly slipped off Jisung's face. "But—he's never even stepped foot inside the dorms—"

"He is now," Chan said, lips pressed into a thin line. "He told me he wants to have our evaluation meeting in person."

"We do usually have it in person," Changbin pointed out. "At JYP-E."

"Well, he wants to have it more in person," said Chan. "Minho and the maknaes will be here in five minutes. For now, we need to clean like hell."

"Then it's a good thing you have me," I said, smiling at him reassuringly. "Hyunjin, hair tie?"

He offered me one, and I took it, tying up my hair as I spoke. "Alright. Changbin, Jisung, you're kitchen. Clear the shelves, wipe down the counters, and clean the sink. Hyunjin, you're living room. I need every trace of food wiped down from the couches and carpet. Use the dustbuster if you have to. Chan, you're with me on the foyer. I'll sweep too. Everyone understand?"

They nodded. I tightened my ponytail once, lifting my chin. "Let's do this."

We all raced off in our respective directions. Cleaning rags were swiped along surfaces, paper towels were shoved into cracks and crevices, and dust was busted. The huge pile of shoes in the foyer was arranged neatly in a matter of minutes, thanks to Chan's handiwork. The broom was swept across the floor like it was running from last night's bad decisions. Not a word was spoken the whole process, all of our attention devoted to cleaning every single inch of the dorm that JYP would see.

By the time I heard Minho's car pull up, the dorm had completely transformed.

Seungmin opened the door and blinked, quickly bowing. "Ah, wrong room, sorry."

Chan caught the door before he could close it. "Get in here."

"Channie-hyung, what are you doing in there?" Jeongin asked, walking up the steps. "Wait, is that the dorm?"

"As it turns out, Five Minute Fixes are not a scam," I offered as the rest of the maknae dorm filed in, their jaws dropping.

"Gawk later, please," said Chan, ushering them all into the living room. "We don't have much time."

"Right," said Minho, tearing his gaze away from the orderly rows of shoes. "Do we know why JYP decided this yet?"

Chan shook his head. "I'm guessing he wants to examine our dorm as a surprise part of the evaluation process."

"Or he wanted to see our dishwasher-loading technique but didn't want to admit it to our faces," Felix offered.

Jisung shrugged. "One is as plausible as the other."

"I guess we're about to find out in a second," Hyunjin said.

Changbin turned to me. "Yeji, do you think..."

"I'll offer to leave," I said, realizing whatever JYP wanted to talk to Stray Kids about might be very personal. "He knows I'm here, right?"

"I told him last month," Chan answered.

"That just makes it all the more confusing why he'd want to be here," Minho pointed out.

"The dishwasher idea is starting to look a lot more likely," Seungmin muttered.

"Should we have snacks ready?" Felix asked, brows knitting together. "I can make some cookies real fast..."

"Not fast enough," I said. "At this point, the only thing we can offer him is hot cheetos."

"Like hell are we giving him our hot cheetos," said Seungmin.

"Seungmin," Chan said sharply, but before he could give the members a lecture on respecting their sunbaenim, there was a crisp knock.

Every one of us froze in that second, and I couldn't help but remember the night before and how ominous my mother's call had felt. That coffin was still hovering above me, a phantom weight over my chest, and something was curling low in my gut, telling me it was about to drop.

And then Chan was shaking himself, striding to the door. He opened it swiftly, like ripping off a Band-Aid, and then JYP stepped into the dorm.

-

The members became a chorus of hellos and bows, their demeanors instantly shifted to one of demurity and respect. I followed suit, deciding it was best to let them lead here.

JYP nodded to each of them, two other men in suits—probably part of his staff or security—standing beside him. "I apologize for the short notice on the meeting. Thank you all for being ready."

"Of course," said Chan, shutting the door behind him. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Instead of answering, JYP surveyed the dorm, as if looking for something ... and his gaze fell on me.

"Are you the sister of Changbin-ssi?"

I dipped my head, bowing again. "My name is Seo Yeji."

His eyes scoured over me, brows knitting together. "And you've been living in the dorms for a month?"

"Just about. I'm leaving next week."

JYP nodded, something shifting and clearing in his gaze. "Then I think you should be here for this."

He moved over to the couch, sitting down on one of the chairs and letting his two staff members stand next to him; our group shifted with him like water. Minho nudged Changbin, and they both grabbed chairs from the dining table and set them up around the living room for the members to all sit down. Usually, we would've sat down on the floor or each other, but I doubted that was the behavior the members displayed around their manager, and even if it was, I doubted Seungmin or Changbin would willingly cuddle with JYP. I sat down on one of the chairs Bin brought, thanking him quietly.

"As you all know, evaluations finished yesterday," JYP began. "Usually my team and I would meet today to discuss your progress, places for improvement, and status, then conduct a final summary to share with you at JYP-E. However, this time I wanted to share it with you in person in a more ... comfortable setting."

Chan's voice was calm, but I knew him well enough to tell he was nervous. "Is there something wrong?"

"Just something I would like to discuss," JYP said, which wasn't an answer. He drew in a breath; next to me, I felt the members tense, as if bracing themselves, and then—

"There have been ... rumors of one of your members secretly breaking the dating ban for idols."

Chan blinked. Whatever it was he had been expecting, it wasn't this. "Who?"

"Jeongin," said JYP, and this time Chan failed to hide his shock.

My jaw dropped; Jeongin himself looked stunned. He opened his mouth—to deny it, probably—but Chan spoke first.

"There are always rumors. Why is this one different?"

"Nothing, now," JYP said, shifting a little in seat. "We have reason to believe it was all a misunderstanding. However...." he nodded to one of the men standing next to him. The staff members reached into his pocket, drawing out three pieces of paper and laying them down on the table. "Dispatch leaked these a couple hours ago."

My blood turned cold.

The first photo was of me leaving the maknae dorm. I had a mask on, and a jacket, but it was unmistakable where I was coming from. My head was turned, looking over my shoulder like I was somewhere I shouldn't be.

The second photo, a bit worse quality, was mostly of a door; but through the crack in the door were me and Jeongin, my face tilted towards his, like I was whispering something in his ear. The fanmeet. It was from the fanmeet, when he'd shown me the earplugs he was wearing. And from the angle, it had been taken by someone in the crowd. 

The third and last photo was much blurrier, taken from a long ways away, but I still recognized it much better than the first.

It was a shot of park swings. And on them, our faces un-masked and easily distinguishable despite the long range, was me and Jeongin.

Images flashed behind my eyes, moving so quickly I barely managed to keep up.

Not bothering to take our masks before we left.

The people far away I'd seen coming out of their building, the people I'd chosen to ignore.

Jeongin's wistful voice, carrying towards me on the wind:

There's always cameras.

Chan's gaze cut into me, and I knew he was running through his mind, trying to find when the photo could've been taken. I saw his face when it clicked—that that must have been the day Jeongin had left at dance practice.

Saw guilt flash behind his eyes, mirroring my own, before they closed off once more.

"I am not secretly dating Jeongin," I said, the words sounding harsh and grating to my ears. I kept my voice detached from myself, steady and cold, careful to keep my gaze from meeting Jeongin's. If I looked at him—or any of them—right now, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep the emotions out of my voice, and I needed to act professional right now. "I have no romantic affiliation with him whatsoever. He's family."

"I believe you," JYP said, his voice reassuring. "We suspected that it was you in the pictures, but seeing your face today confirmed it. However, saying you are Changbin's brother will not be enough for fans. It might even make the situation worse." He cleared his throat. "What's more, some of the rumors have begun to speculate that your ... theorized relationship had been going on since Jeongin was a minor."

"That's preposterous," Chan said sharply, getting there before I did—I'd been about to say the exact same thing. "Yeji only arrived in Korea four weeks ago."

"We understand this," JYP said, his words calm—meant to soothe us. "Facts and fiction have blurred in this situation, as they always do. Regardless, this has become a mess that would cost us greatly to handle, and on top of that, we are still currently expending our resources on the scandal concerning Woojin's departure from the group."

Chan looked like someone had hit him.

"During our meeting this morning, my team also brought some other information to my concern. They claim Stray Kids reached their peak in Gods Menu and Thunderous and is now quickly declining. Your popularity in Korea has gone down drastically in the last five years, and your charisma during media interviews and shoots has been lacking, as well as on other media correspondences. Furthermore, your concept for the latest album has not been doing well. Reviews have said that it is construction noise and your concept is all over the place. You're being criticized for reusing parts of your old songs and having dry lyrics." 

I told myself not to look at Chan, but my eyes had flashed to his before I could stop myself.

His face was all wrong—fragmented from stone, his eyes empty and blank—but what was worse was the other members. They weren't able to hide their emotions as well as Chan.

The looks on their faces made me want to throw something.

"We recognize all the work and effort you've put into this album," JYP said, though it was far too late for him to be offering comfort. He paused, eyes falling away from the member's gazes, and the sick feeling in my gut intensified as I realized what his words truly were: not a comfort for what he'd already said, but a padding for the damage he was about to blow.

JYP looked up. As he took a deep breath, all of mine left my body in a single whoosh.

"Because of these reasons, my team and I have decided that you all have not passed your reassessment period. After this comeback is over, the group Stray Kids will disband."

And with a final, hammering nail, the coffin clicked shut.