#Tae' POV….
Realizing that my Appa had the same sense of humor as Wooshik gave me 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬. I had the hardest time just looking at my Appa, let alone speaking to him. But at about five o'clock Friday afternoon I agreed with him about one thing — we should've barbecued. A barbecue is more, you know, low-key. Instead, my Papa was flying around the kitchen, slicing and dicing and barking orders at Appa and me like the president was coming to dinner.
We swept the floor, put an extra leaf on the table, brought in five more chairs, and set the table. We set it all wrong, of course, but all my Papa had to do was shuffle things around to make it right. It looked the same to me, but what do I know?
He put out candlesticks and said, ❝Joon, can you load the dishes and run them? I'd like a chance to get cleaned up. After that you can change. And Tae? What are you wearing?❞
❝Papa, it's the Jeons. Are you trying to make them feel totally worthless?❞
❝Jiminie and I agreed on a dress-up, so—❞
❝But why?❞
My Appa put a hand on my shoulder and said, ❝So we can all feel equally uncomfortable, son.❞
Men who behave like Women. I looked at him (Jin) and said, ❝Does that mean I have to wear a tie?❞
❝No, but some sort of button-down instead of a T-shirt would be nice.❞
I went down to my room and ripped through my closet looking for something with buttons. There were lots of buttons, all right. Lots of geeky buttons. I thought about boycotting my Papa's dress-code requirements, but instead I started putting on shirts.
Twenty minutes later I still wasn't dressed. And I was extremely ticked off about it because what did it matter? Why did I care what I looked like at this stupid dinner? I was acting like a girl.
Then through a gap in my curtains I saw them coming. Out their front door, down their walkway, across the street. It was like a weird dream. They seemed to be floating toward our house. All five of them.
I pulled a shirt off my bed, punched my arms in, and buttoned up.
Two seconds later the doorbell rang and Papa called, ❝Can you get that, Tae?❞
Luckily, Abeoji beat me to it. He greeted them all like they were a long-lost family and even seemed to know which one was Yeonjun and which one was Beomgyu. One was wearing a purple shirt and the other was wearing a green one, so it shouldn't have been that hard to remember which was which, but they came in and pinched my cheeks and said, ❝Hey, baby brother! How's it going'?❞ and I got so mad I mixed them up again.
My Papa zoomed in from the kitchen, saying, ❝Come in, come in. It's so nice you all could make it.❞ he called, ❝Jen-ni-eee! Joon! We've got com-pa-ny!❞ but then stopped short when he saw Jungkookie and Jimin Uncle.
❝Well, what's this?❞ He asked. ❝Homemade pies?❞
Jimin Uncle said, ❝Blackberry cheesecake and pecan.❞
❝They look wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!❞ My Papa was acting so hyper I couldn't believe it. He took Jungkookie's pie, then whooshed a path to the kitchen with Jimin Uncle.
Jennie appeared from around the corner, which made Yeonjun and Beomgyu grin and say, ❝Hey, Jen. Lookin' good.❞
Black skirt, black nails, black eyes — for a nocturnal rodent, yeah, I suppose she was looking good.
They disappeared down to Jennie's room, and when I turned around, my Abeoji was taking Mr. Jeon, into the front room, which left me in the entry hall with Jungkook. Alone.
He wasn't looking at me. He seemed to be looking at everything but me. And I felt like an idiot, standing there in my geeky button-down shirt with pinched cheeks and nothing to say. And I got so nervous about having nothing to say that my heart started going wacko on me, hammering like it does right before a race or a game or something.
On top of that, he looked more like that stupid picture in the paper than the picture did, if that makes any sense. Not because he was all dressed up — he wasn't. He was wearing some normal-looking outfit and normal-looking shoes, and his hair was the way it always is except maybe a little more brushed out. It was the way he was looking at everything but me, with his shoulders back and his chin out and his eyes flashing.
We probably only stood there for five seconds, but it felt like a year. Finally I said, ❝Hi, Jungkook.❞
His eyes flashed at me, and that's when it sank in—he was mad. He whispered, ❝I heard you and Wooshik Hyung making fun of my uncle in the library, and I don't want to speak to you! Do you understand me? Not now, not ever!❞
My mind was racing. Where had he been? I hadn't seen him anywhere near me in the library! And had he heard it? Or had he heard it from somebody else.
I tried to tell him it wasn't me, that it was Wooshik, all Wooshik. But he shut me down and made tracks for the front room to be with his dad.
So I'm standing there, wishing I'd punched Wooshik out in the library so Jungkookie wouldn't stick me in the same class as someone who makes retard jokes, when my Appa shows up and claps me on the shoulder. ❝So. How's the party, son?❞
Speak of the devil. I wanted to whack his hand off my shoulder.
He leans out so he can see into the front room and says, ❝Hey, the Appa cleans up pretty good, doesn't he?❞
I shrug away from him. ❝Mr. Jeon's name is Yoongi, Appa.❞
❝Yeah, you know, I knew that.❞ He rubs his hands together and says, ❝I guess I ought to go in and say hello. Coming?❞
❝Nah. Papa probably needs my help.❞
I didn't run off to the kitchen, though. I stood there and watched Mr. Jeon shook Appa's hand. And as they stood there pumping and smiling, this weird feeling started coming over me again. Not about Jungkookie — about my Appa. Standing next to Mr. Jeon, he looked small. Physically small. And compared to the cut of Mr. Jeon's jaw, my dad's face looked kind of weaselly.
This is not the way you want to feel about your father. When I was little, I'd always thought that my Appa was right about everything and that there wasn't a man on earth he couldn't take. But standing there looking in, I realized that Mr. Jeon could squash him like a bug.
Worse, though, was the way he was acting. Watching my Appa chum it up with Jungkook's dad—it was like seeing him lie. To Mr. Jeon, to Jungkook, to my Abeoji—to everybody. Why was he being such a worm? Why couldn't he just act normal? You know, civil? Why did he have to put on such a phony show? This went way beyond keeping the peace with my Papa. This was disgusting.
And people said I was the spitting image of my Appa. How often have I heard that one? I'd never thought about it much, but now it was turning my stomach.
Papa jingled the dinner bell and called, ❝Hors d'oeuvres are ready!❞ and then saw me still standing in the hallway.
❝Taehyung, where'd your sister and the boys go?❞
I shrugged. ❝Down to her room, I think.❞
❝Go tell them, would you? And then come have some hors d'oeuvres.❞
❝Sure,❞ I said. Anything to get rid of the taste in my mouth.
Jennie's door was closed. And normally I would have knocked and called, Papa wants you, or, Dinner! or something, but in that split second before my knuckles hit wood, my hand became possessed by Evil Baby Brother. I turned the knob and walked right in.
Does Jennie freak out or throw stuff at me and scream for me to get out? No. She ignores me.
Yeonjun-and-Beomgyu give me a nod, and Jennie sees me, but she's got her hands over some headphones and her whole body's bobbing up and down as she listens to a portable CD player.
Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu whispers, ❝It's about over. We'll be right there,❞ like of course I was there to say it was time to eat. What else would I be doing there?
Something about that made me feel, I don't know, left out. I wasn't even a person to those guys. I was just a baby brother.
Nothing new there, but now it really bugged me. Like all of a sudden I didn't fit in anywhere. Not at school, not at home … and every time I turned around, another person I'd known forever felt like a stranger to me. Even though I felt like a stranger to me.
Standing around eating little round crackers smeared with whipped cheese and fish eggs didn't do much for my mood either. My Papa was acting like an entire swarm of busy bees. He was everywhere. In the kitchen, out of the kitchen. Serving drinks, handing out napkins. Explaining the food, but not eating a thing.
Jennie didn't buy Papa's explanation on the hors d'oeuvres — she wound up dissecting his (Jin), categorizing the parts into gross, disgusting, and revolting.
Hanging near her didn't stop the Jeon boys from shoving crackers in whole, though. Man, I was just waiting for them to wrap themselves around a table leg and flex.
Jungkook, her dad, and my Abeoji were off to the side talking nonstop about something, and my Appa was over with Jimin Uncle looking about as stupid as I felt, standing by myself talking to no one.
My Papa flutters over to me and says, ❝You doing okay, honey?❞
❝Yeah,❞ I tell him, but he forces me over to where Abeoji is anyway. ❝Go on, go on,❞ he whispers. ❝Dinner will be ready in a minute.❞
So I stand there and the group of them opens up, but it's more like a reflex than anything. No one says a word to me. They just keep right on talking about perpetual motion.
Perpetual motion!
My friend, I didn't even know what perpetual motion was. They were talking about closed systems, open systems, resistance, energy source, magnetism … It was like joining a discussion in a different language. And Jungkookie, Jungkookie was saying stuff like, ❝Well, what if you put the magnets back to back — reversed the polarity?❞ like he really understood what they were talking about. Then my Abeoji and her dad would explain why his idea wouldn't work, but all that did was make Jungkookie ask another question.
I was completely lost. And even though I was pretending to follow along with what they were saying, what I was really doing was trying not to stare at Jungkookie.
When my Papa called us for dinner, I did my best to pull Jungkookie aside and apologize to him, but he gave me the cold shoulder, and who could blame him, really?
I sat down across from him, feeling pretty low. Why hadn't I said something to Wooshik in the library? I didn't have to punch him. Why hadn't I just told him he was out of line?
After Papa served everyone their food, Appa seemed to decide that he ought to be the one directing the conversation.
❝So, Beomgyu and Yeonjun,❞ he says, ❝you're seniors this year.❞
❝Amen!❞ they say together.
❝Amen? As in you're glad high school's over?❞
❝Absolutely.❞
My Appa starts twirling his fork. ❝Why's that?❞
Yeonjun and Beomgyu look at each other, then back at my Appa. ❝The regurgitation gets to you after a while.❞
❝Isn't that funny,❞ he says, looking around the table. ❝High school was probably the best time of my life.❞
Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu says, ❝Seriously? Dude, it's totally lame!❞ Jimin Uncle shoots him a look, but that doesn't stop him. ❝Well, it is, Papa. It's that whole robotron attitude of education. Confine, confute, conform—I've had totally enough of that scene.❞
My Appa eyes my Papa with a little I-told-you-so grin, then says to Yeonjun and Beomgyu , ❝So I take it college is out of the question?❞
God, what was with him? In a flash I was clutching my fork and knife, ready to duke it out for a couple of guys who pinched my cheeks and called me baby brother.
I took a deep breath and tried to relax. Tried to dive down to calmer water. This wasn't my fight.
Besides, Yeonjun and Beomgyu seemed cool with it. ❝Oh, no,❞ they said. ❝College is a total possibility.❞ ❝Yeah, we got accepted to a couple of places, but we're going to give the music thing a shot first.❞
❝Oh, the music thing,❞ my Appa says.
Yeonjun and Beomgyu look at each other, then shrug and get back to eating. But Jennie glares at him and says, ❝Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Dad.❞
❝Jen, Jen,❞ says Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu. ❝It's cool. Everyone's like that about it. It's a show-me-don't-tell-me thing.❞
❝That's a great idea,❞ Jennie says, jumping out of her seat and dashing down the hall.
Papa freezes, not sure what to do about Jennie, but then Jimin Uncle says, ❝Dinner is absolutely delicious, Jinnie Hyung.❞
❝Thanks, Jimine. It's … it's nice to have all of you over.❞
There's about three seconds of quiet and then Jennie comes in and jabs at the CD player buttons until the drawer slides back in.
❝Jen, no! Not a good idea,❞ says Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu. ❝Yeah, Jen. It's not exactly dinner music.❞
❝Tough,❞ says Jennie, and cranks the volume.
Boom, whack! Boom-boom, whack!
The candles practically shake in their holders; then guitars rip through the air and about blow them out. Yeonjun and Beomgyu look up at the speakers, then grin at each other and call over to my Appa, ❝Surround sound — awesome setup, Mr. Kim!❞
All the adults were dying to jump up and turn the thing down, but Jennie stood guard and just glowered at them. And when the song's over, Jennie pulls out the CD, punches off the player, and then smiles — actually smiles — at Yeonjun and Beomgyu and says, ❝That is the raddest song. I want to hear it again and again and again.❞
Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu says to my Appa, ❝You probably don't like it, but it's what we do.❞
❝You boys wrote that song?❞
❝Uh-huh.❞
He motions Jennie to pass the CD over, saying, ❝Just the one song?❞
Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu laughs and says, ❝Dude, we've got a thousand songs, but there's only three on the demo.❞
Appa holds up the CD. ❝This is the demo?❞
❝Yeah.❞
He looks at it for a minute and says, ❝So if you're Piss Poor, how do you afford to press CDs?❞
❝Dad!❞ Jennie snaps at him.
❝It's okay, Jen. Just a joke, right, Mr. Kim?❞
My Appa laughs a little and says, ❝Right,❞ but then adds, ❝Although I am a little curious. This is obviously not a home-done demo, and I happen to know studio time's cost-prohibitive for most bands….❞
Yeonjun and Beomgyu interrupt him with a slamming hard high five. And while I'm getting uptight about my Appa asking them questions about money, of all things, my Papa's fumbling all over himself, trying to sweep away my Appa's big pawprints. ❝When Joon and I met, he was playing in a band….❞
Poached salmon was suddenly swimming down the wrong hatch. And while I'm choking, Jennie's bugging out her raccoon eyes, gasping, ❝You? Played in a band? What did you play, clarinet?❞
❝No, honey,❞ my Papa says, trying to hold it all together. ❝Your Appa played guitar.❞
❝Guitar?❞
❝Cool!❞ Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu says. ❝Rock? Country? Jazz?❞
❝Country,❞ my Appa says. ❝Which is nothing to scoff at, boys.❞
❝Dude! We know. Total respect, man.❞
❝And when our band looked into getting a demo made, it was astronomically expensive. That was in a big city, where there was a little competition. Getting a demo made around here? I didn't even know there was a facility.❞
Yeonjun and Beomgyu are still grinning. ❝There's not.❞
❝So where'd you go? And how'd you afford it?❞ My Papa whacks him under the table again, so he says, ❝I'm just curious, Jinnie!❞
Yeonjun and Beomgyu lean in. ❝We did it ourselves.❞
❝This right here? You did this yourselves? That's impossible.❞ He's looking almost mad about it. ❝How'd you get the gear?❞
My Papa kicks him again, but Appa turns on him and says, ❝Stop it, would you? I'm just curious!❞
Yeonjun-or-Beomgyu says, ❝It's cool, Jin Uncle.❞ He smiles at my Appa and says, ❝We kept cruising the Internet and the trades looking for a deal. Everyone's blowing out their old analog gear for digital because that's the move everyone else has made. Digital, if you want to know our opinion, is weak. You lose too much of the waveform. There's not enough fat to it, and obviously we like it beefy.❞
My Abeoji puts up a finger and says, ❝But a CD's digital, so…❞
❝Exactly, but that is the last and only step we'll compromise on. It's just a necessity of being part of the industry. Everyone wants CDs. But the multitrack and the mixdown to two-track is analog. And we could afford it, Mr. kim, because we got used gear and we've been saving up our pennies since we were twelve years old.❞ He grins and says, ❝You still play? We could, you know, lay down some of your tunes if you want.❞
My Appa looked down, and for a second I couldn't tell if he was going to get mad or cry. Then he sort of snorts and says, ❝Thanks, but that's not me anymore.❞
Which was probably the only honest thing my Appa said all night. After that he was quiet. He'd try to plaster up a smile now and then, but man, underneath it he was broody. And I was feeling kind of bad for him. Was he thinking about the good old days playing in a band? I tried picturing him in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, with a guitar strapped across his shoulder, playing some old Willie Nelson song or BTS's I'm fine song.
He was right — it just wasn't him.
But the fact that it ever had been made me feel even more like a stranger in a strange land. Then, when the night was over and the Jeons were piling out the front door, something else strange happened. Jungkookie touched my arm. And for the first time that night he was looking at me. It was that look, too, channeled directly and solely at me. He says, ❝I'm sorry I was so angry when we first came in. Everyone had a good time, and I think your Papa's really nice for inviting us.❞
His voice was quiet. Almost a whisper. I just stood there like a moron, staring at him.
❝Hyung?❞ he says, touching my arm again. ❝Did you hear me? I'm sorry.❞
I managed a nod, but my arm was tingling, and my heart was pounding, and I felt myself pulling toward him.
Then he was gone. Out the door and into the night, part of a chorus of happy good-byes. I tried to catch my breath.
What was that? What was wrong with me?
My Papa closed the door and said, ❝There. Now what did I tell you? That is one delightful family! Those boys are nothing like I expected. Jennie, why didn't you tell me they were so…so charming!❞
❝They're drug dealers.❞
Everyone turned to my Appa and dropped their jaws.
❝What?❞ my Papa said.
❝There is no other way those boys could afford to buy recording gear like that.❞ He glared at Jennie. ❝Isn't that so?❞
Jennie's eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of her head.
❝Joon, please!❞ my Papa said. ❝You can't just make accusations like that!❞
❝It's the only thing that makes sense, Jinnie. Believe me, I know how musicians are. There is no other explanation for this.❞
Jennie shouted, ❝I happen to know for a fact that they don't use or deal. Where do you get off saying something like that? You are such a two-faced, condescending, narrow-minded jackass!❞
There was a split second of silence, and then he slapped her, smack, right across the cheek.
That put my Papa in his face like I'd never seen and sent my sister screaming insults over her shoulder as she ran down to her room.
My heart was pounding. Jennie was right and I almost, almost got in his face, too, and told him so. But then my Abeoji pulled me aside and we both retreated to our own little corners of the house.
Pacing around my room, I had the urge to go talk to Jennie. To tell her that she was right, that Appa was way out of line. But I could hear her through the walls, crying and screaming while my Papa tried to calm her down. Then she stormed out of the house to who-knows-where, and my Papa took up with my Appa again.
So I stayed put. And even though the earth quit quaking around eleven o'clock, there were tremors out there. I could feel them.
As I lay in my bed staring out the window at the sky, I thought about how my Appa had always looked down on the Jeons. How he'd put down their house and their yard and their cars and what they did for a living. How he'd called them trash and made fun of Mr. Jeon's paintings.
And now I was seeing that there was something really cool about that family. All of them. They were just…real.
And who were we? There was something spinning wickedly out of control inside this house. It was like seeing inside the Jeons' world had opened up windows into our own, and the view was not a pretty one.
Where did all this stuff come from?
And why hadn't I ever seen it before.