If You

Jiyong didn't know what to expect as he took the elevator up to Emily's apartment that night. He hadn't expected her to embrace him in the conference room, and he certainly hadn't expected her to cry. I might cry now, he thought as the doors opened. Or throw up. Or both.

The building was old, but the fixtures were new and the inhabitants were stylish and obviously well-off. None of them took much notice of Jiyong, except maybe to eye the designer clothes he was wearing. Okay, here we go, he thought, approaching her door. He knocked on the door and ran his fingers through his hair one last time. Emily opened the door and her eyes widened. “Is it eight already?” she gasped, checking the huge watch on her wrist. “I lost all track of time, I'm working on this project and I was going to shower…”

Jiyong didn't pay much attention, content just to watch her. She was wearing that same ratty blue sweater, her hair was in a precarious ponytail, and her makeup was smudged around her eyes. She looked down and brushed crumbs off her sweater. “Come in,” she sighed, obviously embarrassed. Jiyong did and he took a look around the apartment. It was large, twice the size of the one in Seoul, with tall windows and raftered ceilings. There was an open kitchen on the left and a breakfast nook furnished with fat cushions. The living room resembled the Seoul apartment, bearing the same couch, chairs and TV stand and all covered with papers and notebooks. Jiyong realized she must have brought her own furniture when she came to Seoul. He watched Emily scurry around, stacking papers and books to clear a sitting area. “Sorry about the mess,” she said, her cheeks pinking in that familiar way.

“I'm used to it,” he said, then immediately wanted to kick himself. You're used to it? Really? What, you're just going to pretend like you haven't even noticed she's gone? Great opening, you moron!

“This is a beautiful place,” he tried again. “Is this where you lived before?”

And now we're going for complete idiocy. Perfect.

Emily laid the last stack of papers on the floor. “Yeah, actually,” she said, straightening up again. “The publishing house kept up my rent while I was away as part of my contract.” She freed her hair from its ponytail and Jiyong felt dizzy as it tumbled around her shoulders. “I should change,” she murmured.

“No!” he said, touching her arm lightly. “I mean, you never had to before.”

Emily sighed. “That's true. Are you… hungry?” she asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

“No, I'm fine,” he said. They stood in awkward silence for a while, Emily staring at the floor while Jiyong stared at her. Come on, just like you practiced. I love you. I'm miserable without you. Please come back. This all sounded fine in his head, but now that he was here it felt completely insignificant. Why would she come back? Why would she want to leave all this again? Maybe I'm just being selfish.

Just when he was considering making an excuse and leaving Emily chuckled softly. “What is it?” he asked dumbly.

“Your shoes,” she replied. “You were wearing them that day.”

Jiyong had owned these particular shoes for years, so pinpointing the day she meant was nearly impossible. “What day?”

“The day I watched you from the wings for the first time,” she answered. “At that variety show. You were so…” she didn't finish, biting her lip. “Have you read the book yet?”

Jiyong shook his head and she went over to a side table. “I know this one's in English,” she said, taking a white book out of a drawer, “but this is the first copy off the presses. Lisa likes to gift first prints to her authors.” She handed him the book and he examined it closely. It was sleek, with a picture of BIGBANG emblazoned on the front. It was titled We Like To: A Biography of the Global Sensation BIGBANG. It was thick too, thicker than he had imagined. “How many pages?” he asked, hefting it in his hand.

“Nearly five hundred, and that was after three rounds of editing.”

He handed it back to her, but she waved it away. “I want you to have it,” she insisted. “It's your story, anyway. All I did was write it down.”

She sat down on the couch and he took the chair across from her. “Emily, I-”

Her phone rang in the next room and she smiled apologetically. “It's probably Lisa. Do you mind if…”

“No, go ahead,” he said immediately. He watched her leave the room and he sighed loudly. Who am I kidding? She obviously can't wait to get rid of me. I shouldn't have come.

He stood up to leave and accidentally kicked over a pile of papers on the floor. He knelt down and grabbed the loose papers hurriedly, but one folded into a square caught his eye. He saw his name peeking out from under the folds and he picked it up, glancing at the door as he opened it.

It was one of the pictures from their photoshoot, taken what seemed like an eternity ago. Jiyong was smiling into the camera, while Emily looked up at him lovingly, their hands entwined. The picture was heavily creased, as if it had been refolded many times. Seeing the picture brought back a flood of memories Jiyong had been trying to suppress and he sat heavily on the floor while he stared at it.

“Jiyong?”

He folded the paper and swiped away tears before turning to look at her. “Sorry, I… I knocked your stuff over.” He got up and cleared his throat. “I, uh, I should go.”

He crossed the room in long strides and reached for the doorknob.

“Wait! I'm… I'm sorry.”

“You said that earlier,” he said, turning around. “Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong.”

“Didn't I?” Emily took a step toward him. “I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I didn't fight harder. And I'm sorry I can't move on.”

Jiyong's heart started pounding.

“The truth is,” she sighed, “I've been miserable ever since I left Seoul. I thought it would get easier with time, but it's like I'm bleeding out of an open wound.” She bowed her head, trying to gather herself. “I don't know how to fix it,” she whispered.

“I do,” he said hoarsely. He crossed the room and kissed her, burying his hands in her hair, then he pulled back and looked down at her breathlessly. Everything he wanted to say trembled on his lips, but all he could manage was, “Please come back.”

“I don't know how,” she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. Jiyong saw the same mixture of grief and desperate longing he felt and he embraced her tightly. “I'll do whatever it takes,” he murmured, “anything it takes. All I know is everything I do is worthless without you. Just… come home.”


******


Emily was on her way out of the building when she was greeted by a familiar face in the lobby. “You look like you're ambushing me,” she commented. Youngbae grinned. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “I wanted to see where you lived.”

“Really?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “This has nothing to do with Jiyong's visit last night?”

“Please tell me what happened,” Youngbae begged. “He's been tight-lipped all morning, but he doesn't look quite as depressed. Does that mean-”

“It doesn't mean anything,” she said, heading out to the street. Youngbae followed her as she fell into step with the steady stream of people flowing down the sidewalk. “I- I haven't made a decision yet,” she admitted. “I wouldn't have left the first time if I'd been able to see a solution. I'm not sure anything's changed.”

“What are you worried about?” Youngbae asked. “Surely you could keep your job, and you'd never have to worry about money. You could travel together, see new places. Plus your Korean is already great.”

“What about my family?” she asked. “I would rarely see them and would miss a lot of stuff. And what if we had kids? Would we drag them all over the world while Jiyong tours, or go months without seeing him? It's not exactly a stable environment.”

Youngbae turned and stood in front of her, blocking her path. “No situation is perfect,” he said in a low voice, “but you can't give up on something like this. Jiyong loves you, Emily. He'd give up anything to be with you.”

“You don't get it, do you?” she retorted. “I don't want him to give up his dreams for me! What kind of future would that build? He would resent me for it and we would eventually regret being together. He needs someone who knows how to deal with paparazzi and saesangs, not someone who hides in the bathroom during award shows. We don't fit together!”

“Wrong,” Youngbae said immediately. “You know what Jiyong needs? Someone to be honest with him. Someone who sees over the cloud of celebrity and pulls him back to reality. Someone who loves him even when he does weird things to his hair. He needs you, Emily. He loves you, and you love him. Isn't that worth it?”

Emily smiled at him. “He doesn't know you're here, does he?” she said softly. “You really are his best friend.”

“I'm saying this for you,” he replied. “A year ago, you saved me from choices that almost wrecked my life. I want to keep you from making a choice like that. Don't give up so easily.”

He left her standing on the sidewalk, disappearing into the crush of people crossing the street. Emily was rooted to the ground, trying to make sense of the confusion Youngbae's impassioned words had created. After a few agonizing minutes, she made her decision and started walking purposefully down the street.


******


Jiyong stood looking out the window, thinking idly. He loved New York City, the profusion of life and art coursing through it, the history and myriad cultures all vibrant and existing side by side in shops and restaurants and townhouses. It made him feel free and ensnared all at once, an irony he enjoyed immensely. But today the joy was dimmer and farther away, clouded by his anxiety concerning Emily. What will I do if she doesn't come back? he wondered for the hundredth time.

A knock on the door stirred him from his thoughts and he turned around. “Come in,” he called. Seungri entered bearing a sack of food and two bottled waters. “Youngbae and Daesung are out, so I thought I'd bring you lunch,” he said, holding up the sack.

“You guys don't have to baby me like this,” Jiyong said pointedly. “I'm fine, really.”

Seungri shrugged. “Okay, if you don't want it-”

“I didn't say that,” Jiyong interrupted, coming over to the table. Seungri grinned and handed him a takeout box. “Have you heard from Emily?” he asked.

“No,” Jiyong said through a mouthful of food, “and I'm worried. What if she doesn't come?”

Seungri chewed quietly for a minute. “What exactly did you offer her if she did?” he said finally. Jiyong blinked. “Uh, well, to marry me and come back to Seoul, I guess.”

“That's a lot to ask of her,” Seungri pointed out. “She would sacrifice her whole life here in America.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What are you prepared to sacrifice for her?”

“Anything,” he said immediately.

“Really? Would you sacrifice BIGBANG?”

Jiyong frowned. “I don't see how-”

“Or your solo career?” Seungri continued. “Would you cut that back? Would you tour less? And if YG wouldn't let you slow down, would you end your contract?”

Jiyong set his food down. “That's my whole life!” he exclaimed. Seungri gave him a knowing look and he cursed under his breath. “That's what I'm asking Emily to do,” he muttered. Seungri nodded. “She's worked hard to get where she is, same as you,” he said gently. “She can't just leave it all and tag along while you keep doing whatever you want. There's got to be compromise.”

“I just thought it would be like it was a few months ago,” Jiyong whispered.

“And maybe it can be,” Seungri said, “but only if there's a balance. If she sacrificed everything and you nothing, she would resent you forever. You've got to work out a compromise.”

Jiyong stared at the floor, his mind swirling. A plan slowly began to take shape and he stood up suddenly. “I'm going to see Sagowa.”

Notes