If You

Emily dozed fitfully against the wall, one hand resting on the bed where Youngbae slept. Dr. Jung had given him an IV and told them to call if there was any change. All of them had made themselves as comfortable as possible as they waited for Youngbae to come to again.

A groan came from the bed and Emily jolted awake, standing quickly. She bent over Youngbae, waiting breathlessly.

“Jiyong,” she hissed. “Seunghyun! Wake up!”

The boys stumbled to their feet and gathered around the bed anxiously. Emily brushed back Youngbae’s hair, noting that his skin felt cooler. “Youngbae? Can you hear me?”

“We’re all here,” Seungri said encouragingly.

Youngbae’s eyes flew open and he sat up, his arms flailing. “Hold him down!” Jiyong yelled, trying to grab his arm. Youngbae swung wildly, clipping Jiyong in the jaw. Jiyong fell back, his lip bleeding. Emily lunged into the gap, trying to push Youngbae back down onto the bed. Youngbae threw his fist and Emily caught it square on the cheek, sending her flying. She crashed to the ground, the room spinning crazily.

“Emily!” she heard Seunghyun call, and a pair of strong arms picked her up. She stood shakily, trying to make her head stop spinning. Her vision cleared and she found herself staring into Jiyong’s eyes. “Thanks,” she said, finding her own balance again. He released her quickly and the moment ended when Daesung punched Youngbae in the face, knocking him out again.

“Well, so much for regaining consciousness,” Emily said dryly. Her face throbbed and she winced, gingerly feeling her cheek.

“Your face!” Seungri exclaimed, coming over to her.

“That’s going to be hard to hide,” Seunghyun commented, examining her with a practiced eye.

Youngbae groaned again and Jiyong sighed. “Watch him. We’ll be right back.” He left the room, beckoning for Emily to follow. She was too surprised to refuse, trotting after him to the bathroom. “You’re gonna need an ice pack,” he said, opening her medicine cabinet, “and some aspirin. I’ll show you how to cover it up later.” He started going through her makeup, frowning. “This isn’t very high quality. Is this all you have?” he asked, holding up her foundation.

Emily blinked, her mouth falling open. “Yeah,” she said, disbelief coloring her voice. “Do you always go through other people’s things?” she said, folding her arms.

Jiyong paused. “Sorry,” he said, closing the cabinet. “I wasn’t trying to pry.”

Emily felt a tiny stab of remorse. “It’s okay. It’s not like I have anything to hide,” she said, opening the cabinet again. “And yes, this is all I have. Not all of us have fancy products and trained stylists, you know.”

Jiyong put the makeup back. “We can find something around the studio.” He closed the cabinet again and examined himself in the mirror, touching his cut lip gingerly.

“Here,” Emily said, grabbing a washcloth from the towel rack. She dampened it and put it to Jiyong’s mouth. He winced, but held still. Emily dabbed most of the blood away, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“It doesn’t look that big,” she said, rinsing the cloth. “It should be pretty easy to conceal.”

Jiyong leaned tiredly against the sink. “Thank you. For going to get Youngbae, I mean.”

Emily hung the washcloth back onto the towel rack. “Like I said, he’s my friend.”

“We’ve been close since we were little,” Jiyong said, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “You saved his life, and I won’t forget that.”

“Does that mean you surrender?” Emily teased.

Jiyong looked back at her. “Why are you so determined to be friends with us?” he asked.

“Why are you so determined to hate me?” Emily countered. When he didn’t answer she shook her head and made to leave the bathroom.

“Wait,” he said, touching her arm. She stopped, looking back at him. “I don’t hate you,” he said, lowering his hand.

She gave a wry smile. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she replied, leaving the bathroom.


* * * * * *

Hours later Jiyong paced the bedroom, keeping an eye on Youngbae as he walked. The others slept in chairs dotted around the room, all of them unwilling to leave Youngbae alone after his outburst.

This is interminable, he thought, glancing toward the door. Maybe I’ll step out for just a few minutes.

He quietly left the room and went to the kitchen. He went to open a cabinet and paused, remembering Emily’s reproval. I just want some tea. She won’t mind, he thought, opening the cabinet. He found a lone box of herbal tea and used the shiny Keurig machine on the counter to brew himself a cup. Blowing on it gently, he leaned against the counter and examined the little kitchen. It’s no penthouse, but I guess it’s nice, he thought, sipping his tea carefully.
He went to go back to the bedroom, but the door to the living room was opened and he was piqued with curiosity. Just a quick look, he told himself, slipping into the room.

This room was small too, with a red couch on one side and two plush brown chairs on the other. A small TV sat against the far wall on a wicker stand. The couch and surrounding floor were covered in stacks of paper and notebooks, while an open laptop sat on a nearby table. This must be where she works, he realized. On an impulse he picked up a piece of paper off the nearest stack and scanned it.

The city of Seoul was breathtaking in winter, the shimmering lights a stark contrast to the satiny snow. I enjoyed the cab rides back and forth, as it afforded me a few minutes of peace to look out the window and soak it all in.

She writes well, he thought, surprised. He knew Sagowa only hired the best and constantly praised her work, but this was the first time Jiyong had read anything for himself. He put the paper back and picked up a small notebook that lay open on the couch, eager to read more.

I was completely hidden from view as Jiyong took the stage. He was so close to me I was afraid he could hear me breathing, but he never saw me.

Jiyong stopped. This must be her diary, he realized. He started to put it back, but the temptation to continue won out and he kept reading.

Up until that moment, I had only seen one side of him - the angry, spoiled child who either screamed at me or ignored me. But today I saw the musician, the man who loves his craft. Now I understand his rage about the album more fully, and I’m sorry I laughed at him.

Jiyong paused, thinking back to that moment on the variety show. I don’t remember seeing her, he thought. Was she really there?
He imagined her laughing at him and he frowned, surprisingly discomfited at the thought.

His voice is truly beautiful, and I felt tears fall as he rushed by me, too hurried to notice me. But when we got back to the green room I felt his old animosity return. Does he really resent me that much?

No, Jiyong realized, I don’t.

I’m worried about the tour. I’ll be in even closer proximity to them for months on end, and one of them can barely stand to breathe the same air as me. But I feel that I understand him a little better now, and maybe, even if he hates me, I can catch another glimpse of the real Jiyong.

Jiyong closed the diary, tossing it back onto the couch. Even in her private thoughts she’s kind, he thought. He returned to the bedroom, scanning the room slowly. Daesung and Seunghyun were in chairs by the bed, slumped over horribly. Seungri had fallen asleep sitting against the wall, one leg bent awkwardly. Emily slept on the floor by the bed, a discarded ice pack lying next to her pillow. Her cheek was already turning purple and green, the dim lighting making it look more angry.

Jiyong felt ashamed as he watched her, the words from her diary reverberating in his mind. He grabbed a blanket and laid it over her gingerly, feeling a little foolish.
He sat with his back against the bed, right between Emily and Daesung. I’ll try harder, he promised himself, finally drifting off.


* * * * * *

Morning dawned and Youngbae still hadn’t wakened. Since his breathing and temperature were normal, Emily told the others to go home and rest. “I can watch him,” she said, shooing them out. She took a quick shower and ate breakfast, peeking in on Youngbae every few minutes.
She brought her laptop into the bedroom and sat in one of the chairs, working quietly.
There was a knock at the door and her heart stopped. She ran to the door and looked through the peephole, then sighed with relief. “Jiyong, what are you doing back here?” she asked, opening the door.

He held up a bag. “I brought some things to help cover that bruise,” he replied. “Can I come in?”

Emily stepped back, allowing him into the apartment.

“Any change?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, closing the door. “He seems to be sleeping well, so that’s a blessing.”

Jiyong looked at her cheek and frowned. “It looks worse today,” he commented, tilting his head this way and that. “I can show you how to cover it, if you want,” he offered.

“Sure,” Emily said cautiously. She sat on the couch and Jiyong sat beside her, emptying his bag onto the table.

“You need a thick concealer to start with, then foundation and powder to blend it in,” he explained. He selected a makeup sponge and loaded it with a thick paste. He started dabbing it onto her face and Emily hissed in pain.

“Sorry,” he said, pausing. “I’m trying to be gentle, but this is going to hurt.” He resumed dabbing and Emily bit her lip to keep from groaning.

“You seem pretty knowledgeable about all of this,” she said, trying to get her mind off of her cheek.

“After all these years, I’ve picked up a few things,” he said, smiling slightly.

Are we...having an actual conversation? “Where did you get all of this?” she asked.

“My makeup artist, Soo. She explained how to cover injuries.”

Emily jerked away. “You told Soo what happened?” she said, alarmed.

“No, no!” Jiyong said quickly. “I told her it was for my lip,” he said, pointing. “Pretty neat work, right?”

Emily took a deep breath, trying to make her heart stop racing. “Yeah, neat,” she echoed.

Jiyong finished with the concealer and began applying foundation with a brush. This hurt less than the sponge and Emily began to relax. She watched Jiyong as he worked, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. His orange hair was starting to fade, and even under the expert makeup she could make out bags under his eyes. He probably didn’t sleep at all last night, she realized.

After brushing a light coat of powder onto her cheek, Jiyong laid his brush down and sighed. “It’s like it never happened,” he said, holding up a mirror. Emily was impressed, her skin flawless in the morning light. “Thank you,” she said, smiling.

“You can keep the makeup,” he said, putting it back into the bag. “It’s a poor thanks for the last several hours, but it’s a start.”

Emily took the bag and stood up. “I’d better check on Youngbae,” she said, going to leave. She paused in the doorway, then turned around. “You should rest,” she said. “I’ll bet you paced the bedroom all night.”

Jiyong shrugged. “That’s normal for me. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“Last night wasn’t normal,” she countered. “You can sleep on the couch for as long as you want,” she said, handing him a nearby blanket. “I’m sure the others will be by in a while, but it’ll be quiet until then.”

Jiyong relented and accepted the blanket. “Thank you,” he said softly. Emily left the room and padded down the hallway to the bedroom. Youngbae was still asleep, so Emily resumed her chair and tried to write. The events of the previous night swirled around her head, throbbing and pulsing, but she ignored it. She didn’t dare to write anything down, not even in her diary, about Youngbae’s narrow escape.

Youngbae stirred and Emily was by him in an instant. She sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a safe distance in case he was still violent. “Youngbae? It’s Emily. Can you hear me?”

Youngbae’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at her. “Where am I?” he croaked.

Emily sighed with relief. “You’re in my apartment.”

“Your apartment?” he repeated, confused. He tried to sit up, but Emily stopped him. “You’ve had a rough night,” she said, gently pushing him back down. “You need to rest for a while.”

Should I get Jiyong? she wondered. He desperately needed to rest, but he would hate himself if he wasn’t there. “I’ll be right back, Youngbae,” she promised. “Can I bring you something to drink?”

Youngbae shook his head, closing his eyes again. Emily slipped out of the room and went to the living room. Jiyong was already fast asleep, and Emily wished she could let him be. “Jiyong,” she whispered, crouching down beside him. She put a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. “Jiyong, wake up. Youngbae’s awake.”

Jiyong stirred and sat up. “Youngbae?” he repeated, throwing the blanket aside. Emily nodded, standing. They went back to the bedroom together, where Youngbae was attempting to get out of bed. “Youngbae!” Jiyong said, rushing over to him. They started whispering in Korean and Emily left them alone. She closed the door and sighed. He’s awake, she thought, gratitude filling her spirit.


* * * * * *

Jiyong held his groggy friend, examining his face closely. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was gaunt, but he was alive. “What happened?” Youngbae asked, running a hand through his hair.

“You…” Jiyong faltered, unable to speak the words. “Emily found you at Neon Lights. She brought you here and called us. We were so scared, Youngbae.”

Youngbae frowned. “Emily? How did she know where I was?”

“You called her and told her. She saved your life.”

Youngbae looked around the room, squinting hard. “I don’t remember coming here. Where are the others?”

“At home, sleeping. We were here all night until Emily finally told us to go home. Do you want me to call them?”

“Not yet,” Youngbae said, wincing. “My head is killing me.”

“We’ll get you some medicine,” Jiyong assured him. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted, and in need of a bathroom,” Youngbae said, trying to stand. He lifted his arm, the IV tube dangling from it. “What’s this?” he asked, brandishing his arm.

“Dr. Jung came over last night. He gave that to you to...flush your system.”

Youngbae bowed his head and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. Jiyong felt tears sting his eyes, but he didn’t cry. “I know,” he said thickly. “I thought I was going to lose my best friend last night. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

Jiyong helped Youngbae to the bathroom and waited until he came out again, already looking worn out. “Where are my clothes?” he asked, gesturing to the purple bathrobe he wore.

“Emily had to rip your shirt open to cool you down at the club,” Jiyong replied, helping him back into bed. “The rest of your clothes should be around here somewhere.”

Youngbae sank against the pillows and sighed. “Can I see Emily?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll get her,” Jiyong said, straightening up. He left the bedroom and went to the kitchen. Emily was making coffee, and she looked up quickly when Jiyong entered.

“He wants to see you,” Jiyong said, beckoning her to the bedroom.


* * * * * *

Emily followed Jiyong back to the bedroom, peeking in around the door. Youngbae was lying down again, but more awake now. He smiled at her, a distorted version of his charming grin.
“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she responded, coming to sit by him.

“I asked Jiyong not to call the others yet,” he said, his voice raspy and strange. “I wanted you to do something first.”

Emily felt puzzled. “Sure,” she agreed cautiously.

“Tell me exactly what happened last night. I want every detail, just the way it happened.”

Emily glanced at Jiyong. He shouldn’t hear this, she decided. “Jiyong, would you mind…?”

Jiyong closed the door. “I want to know too,” he said, leaning against it and folding his arms.

Emily sighed and looked back at Youngbae. “Okay. You called me around midnight, thinking I was Jiyong. You told me where you were and I took a cab to the club. A manager took me upstairs to the V.I.P. room, where I saw…” she paused, the image still fresh in her mind. “A pile of needles on a table,” she resumed, “and the room was full of users. I tore through the room, praying I would find you alive. The manager found you in the hallway, convulsing on the floor. I ripped your shirt open and used my sweater to make a cold compress. Your skin was so hot I thought you were…” she stopped again, a lump in her throat. “We managed to get you down the fire escape on the back side of the club, and you walked with me to the cab. I called Seunghyun from the cab and brought you here. He and the others got here not long after we did, and Daesung called Dr. Jung, who gave you the IV and medicine. We stayed here with you during the night, until I made the others go home.”

Youngbae listened quietly as Emily talked, his face falling more and more as the sorry tale unfolded. When she finished, he opened his mouth as if to reply, but could only sigh.

“How long have you been using?” Emily asked quietly.

“Two years,” Youngbae said dully, staring straight ahead. “I started with pain pills, then moved on to cocaine ten months ago.”

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, tears burning behind her eyelids. She looked at Jiyong, as if for an explanation. He didn’t look shocked, but was staring at the floor tiredly.

“Jiyong?”

He looked up and she could see both pain and shame in his eyes. “Did…” she began, glancing back and forth. Neither man said anything as the truth hit her.
“You knew,” she whispered, looking at Jiyong. “You knew he was addicted and didn’t do anything!” She stood up, horror making her heart race.

Jiyong looked away, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I had no idea about the cocaine,” he said, struggling to regain control. “I swear, I wouldn’t have let…”

“Let him?!” she shouted. “This isn’t something you let people do, Jiyong! You turned a blind eye, and that makes you just as guilty as the person who gave him the drugs!”

“That’s not fair,” Youngbae protested weakly, sitting up. “He confronted me about the pills and I told him I was quitting. He really didn’t have any idea I was still using.”

Emily felt her rage boil. “You!” she shouted, turning towards Youngbae. “Do you have any idea how much these guys love you?” Her voice broke, but she kept going. “You have risked everything; your career, your friends, your reputation, to say nothing of your life, for nothing!”
She looked back at Jiyong. “Did any of the others know?” she asked.

“No,” he said immediately. “They had no idea.”

Emily looked down at her feet, trying to calm down. “I will do everything I can to help you, Youngbae,” she said quietly, “but you have to decide to get clean. You got lucky this time; I don’t want the next to be finding your body in some dark room across town.” She wiped her cheeks, wincing when she touched her bruise. “We need a plan.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jiyong said. “I promise.”

Emily pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Seunghyun, the others will want to see you,” she said, leaving the room.

She dialed, walking down the hallway to the living room. “Hey. Yeah, he woke up a few minutes ago.”

“We’ll be there soon,” Seunghyun promised, hanging up. Emily slid her phone back into her pocket and sank into one of the plush chairs. She pulled her knees to her chin, letting her mind drift. She felt a dull sense of pain and disbelief. How could Jiyong know and do nothing? The thought ran through her mind ceaselessly as she stared at the wall. She thought they were finally making progress, but this revelation cast him in a new light. Can I even trust him? she wondered.

The door opened and Seunghyun rushed in, snowflakes flying off of him.

“He’s in the bedroom,” Emily said mechanically. Seunghyun paused, looking at her concernedly. “Are you okay?” he asked, pulling off his gloves.

Emily nodded, keeping her eyes on the wall. “Where are the others?”

“Right behind me. I called them on my way here.” He bent down, looking intently into her face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little upset.”

Emily tore her eyes from the wall and smiled at him. “I’m just exhausted. Go on, they’re waiting.”

Seunghyun relented and obeyed, not without one last worried look. Emily resumed her pose, not moving when Daesung, then Seungri arrived. They weren’t as observant as Seunghyun, jogging straight past her to the bedroom.

Emily closed her eyes, resting her chin on her knees. This is too much, she thought miserably.

Notes