“Very cool.”
“Come on,” said Kwan. “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished!”
* This also happens to be the name of the documentary film about them, which was way more successful than the band itself. It even won an Oscar.
Evie awoke suddenly. Her face was still smushed into the duvet, and for a moment she had absolutely no idea where she was. She was so disoriented that for the briefest second she thought she was home. Not at the Explorers Society, not even at the Wayward School, but home. Actually home. Home from two years ago. Home in her room with her parents reading downstairs. Home with her stuffed animals around her, with her books on her shelves. Beneath the mural her mother had painted over her bed.
But it was so quick, so fleeting, and soon she pushed herself up to sit on the hotel bed in a daze. Australia. She was in Australia. Though even telling herself that, she couldn’t quite register the information. It seemed the stuff of fantasy that she was on the other side of the world, but it wasn’t. She was here.
She was awake.
Evie looked over her shoulder toward the curtains. Then she got up and crossed the room to pull them open. Still dark out. Still nighttime. Why had she woken up, then?
Another loud thud from below.
Another?
When had been the first?
Evie looked down to the street and saw a figure bent over something. It was trying to move what looked like a large box. No, not a box, a wagon. A wheel was caught, it seemed. Another thud as the figure tried to dislodge the wheel.
The thud. Yes, the thud had woken her up. The first one. The one that only her subconscious had heard.
For a moment Evie wondered if she should help the figure. But there was a strange urgency to its movements. It gave off the impression that it didn’t want to be seen, let alone helped. It was looking around furtively, its head jerking at the slightest noise. Suddenly it turned and looked right up at her window, and Evie ducked out of sight, not certain why she felt like she had to hide but sure it was the right thing to do. As she slowly rose and peeked over the edge of the windowsill at the figure, now back to doing whatever it was doing, she thought help was the last thing it wanted. But what was it doing, and why so late at night?
Evie felt uneasy now. She was witnessing something, and it felt like something not good. What was in the wagon? she wondered. Then she stopped wondering because her mind was going to some seriously dark places to answer the question.
Instead she thought of Sebastian. Alone, unsafe, with three scary men up to no good. Just like this figure. She hoped Sebastian was okay. She more than hoped. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he wasn’t. She hoped they’d find Benedict soon, and she hoped they were right—that the men who had taken Sebastian were heading to Benedict too.
She hoped she and Catherine would be able to protect Benedict and save Sebastian, and all would be well.
She hoped she wasn’t being a little too optimistic.
Another thud, and the wheel came free. The figure moved to the front of the wagon and started pulling again. The wagon followed the figure, and Evie watched as they both disappeared down the street and around the corner. Evie kept watching, though, kept straining her eyes into the darkness to see if there was anything more. Or if the figure would return. After fifteen minutes she gave up and looked out directly before her to the blackness beyond. Then she drew the curtains and returned to the bed.
This time she changed into her pajamas and climbed under the soft down comforter. The room was pleasantly air-conditioned, and she felt downright cozy and safe. Funny that something made of down and cotton could make one feel safe. They were hardly protective materials. It would have made more sense to feel that way if she was sleeping under chain mail. Still. It was what it was. She curled up on her side and fell asleep.
Again.
Dinner was fast and furious as each of the boys gulped down the food waiting for them on the glossy white dining table in the equally glossy white dining room. It was like they hadn’t been fed in days, instead of having just stuffed their faces full with snacks on the bus. Sebastian wasn’t exactly an exception to the behavior, though while he could easily shovel in the steamed dumplings and fried pancake, the spicy kimchi caught in his throat a little. The thing that truly slowed him down, however, was finding a moment to ask them for a phone or something so he could contact his parents now that he was safe and sound. He had tried once to ask the boys, when they had first sat down in the white dining chairs that seemed molded out of one solid piece of hard plastic, but the boys didn’t seem to have heard him, in their excitement to eat dinner.
So Sebastian now sat there, slowly eating and watching the giant screens on all four glossy white walls of the dining room, showing a variety of the Lost Boys’ videos. He wasn’t sure if the videos played all the time or if it was for his benefit, but he was quite impressed by them. They were slick and well-made, clearly with big budgets and lots of special effects. And several of them were in English, which surprised Sebastian but helped explain why the boys were able to speak with him so easily. He supposed the Lost Boys were trying to break into the North American pop scene and had therefore learned the language. It also explained Cheese’s nickname. Well, why it was an English word, at least, not so much why they called him that in the first place. At any rate, it was admirable that they were trying to break into a whole new market.
But even more than that, he was impressed with how talented his new friends were. Especially when it came to dancing. Toy was particularly athletic, but all the boys were able to perform intricate dance moves in sync with each other, always with Kwan standing front and center. Their singing was excellent as well, though Sebastian was aware that there were computers that helped make voices sound more on pitch, so he couldn’t be certain of their skill level. The dancing, though, was obvious. There was no faking that.
“What do you think?” asked Kwan, noticing that Sebastian’s eating pace had slowed.
“You guys are great. I wish I could do that.” Sebastian wasn’t sure exactly why he’d said that last part. At no point in his life had he ever had the desire to dance or perform. At least, not before now. But all that was beside the point. Finally he had a chance to ask his question. “So, this has all been great and all, but I really need to call home—”
“I bet you can!” said Ujin, pulling his hair back into a low ponytail and standing.
“Bet I can what?” asked Sebastian. The statement made no sense. Of course he knew he could call home. Ujin made his way into an empty area by the head of the table, moving the chair to one side.
“Come on, Opera Boy!” he said, gesturing for Sebastian to join him.
“Are we going to make a phone call?” asked Sebastian, still confused.
“We’re going to dance!”
Oh! “No, no. This is very silly, and I’m pretty tired, and I really should call—”
Suddenly there was the sound of slow clapping, and Sebastian turned to see the rest of the boys with big grins on their faces encouraging him to stand. “No, really. I should…” But the clapping was getting louder and faster, drowning him out. This was ridiculous. The clapping got faster and faster. Okay, fine, he’d do it, and then hopefully they’d listen to him. With great reluctance Sebastian was up on his feet and joining Ujin at the head of the table.
“Stand next to me,” said Ujin.
Sebastian did and stared at the remaining band members, who had now stopped clapping and were all smiling at him, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
“Let’s start easy. Just follow me. One step to the left. One to the right. And then slide….” Ujin took a wide step and dragged his other foot over to match it. “Then do it but toward the back. Then toward the left. Then toward the front.” He repeated the footwork facing different directions.
Well, that didn’
t look too hard. Sebastian took one step to the left, then one to the right; then he attempted the slide. His rubber sole squeaked a little and caught on the floor, but otherwise he managed it okay. Ujin smiled encouragingly, and Sebastian continued with the rest of the directions, finding the footwork getting easier each time.
“Cool! Now with arms.”
Sebastian had always assumed the key to dancing was the feet, but after watching the fast and intricate hand gestures Ujin did to match the footwork, he was starting to doubt that opinion.
“Uh, can you do that again?” asked Sebastian after a failed attempt had resulted in his punching his own nose.
“Totally!” Ujin showed him the moves again, and somehow Sebastian managed to punch himself in the nose again.
This time Cheese burst out laughing and Sebastian felt pretty embarrassed.
“It’s all about practicing. Do it one more time,” said Kwan, giving Cheese a firm look, making the boy stop mid-guffaw. “But do it half speed.”
Sebastian was feeling pretty done with this. He couldn’t even get three silly steps. But he nodded and did the hand gestures at half the speed, with Ujin doing the same.
“Hey, you did it!” said Toy, applauding.
It seemed like a small success, but he had indeed done it. At the very least he’d managed not to injure himself. Whether or not he looked nearly as cool as Ujin was something else.
“Okay, full speed now!” instructed Kwan, and Sebastian followed their instructions: once, twice, a third time. And he was starting to feel like he was getting the hang of it.
“Okay, so we’re going to do that four times in a row, and then we end taking a pose,” said Ujin.
“A pose?” Sebastian didn’t like the sound of that.
“Just something cool,” said Yejun.
Oh, well, that was easy, then.
“Let’s do this!”
To Sebastian’s horror, loud music started to play from somewhere, and the rest of the group leapt up to their feet and stood beside him and Ujin.
“Ready…and…go!” shouted Ujin. And they were dancing, all of them were dancing, and so was Sebastian, for that matter, even though he felt like he was a half beat behind everyone. To the right. To the back. To the left. To the front. And…pose.
The rest of the boys struck poses that clearly had been well practiced and definitely fit the mandate of “cool.” Sebastian, on the other hand, just stood there awkwardly, kind of like he was waiting for the light to change so he could cross the street.
“Okay, we’ll work on the pose later,” said Kwan, “but that was awesome! You’re a natural, Opera Boy!”
Sebastian was pretty sure he was neither awesome at dancing nor a natural, but it was nice of Kwan to say. Also, well, it had been pretty fun.
“Ah, we have a new member, I see!” said an unfamiliar voice.
Sebastian turned to see a tall balding man wearing yellow tinted sunglasses standing in the doorway, smiling at them all.
“Ah! Suwon hyung, meet Opera Boy!” said Kwan, noticing the man and heading over to him.
“Interesting name,” replied Suwon, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh, it’s not my real name. My real name is Sebastian.” Yet again more proof that nicknames just made things more complicated and that really there wasn’t much point to them.
Except, of course, when they kind of made you feel like you fit in with the group. And that it showed they cared enough about you to give you a neat name.
No. Nicknames were still inconvenient and pointless. Sebastian resisted thinking otherwise.
“Well, Sebastian, I hope you enjoy your stay with us,” said Suwon.
“Thank you Mr. Hyung.”
“Ah no,” said Suwon with a small smile. “Suwon is my name. They call me Suwon hyung or just Hyung as a show of respect and also a sign of our closeness. You see, ‘hyung’ is…well, you don’t have these where you are from. We have honorifics here in Korea that we put after the names of people depending on our relationship to them. It is like a title. Like father or mother, I suppose for you. Literally it means ‘older brother,’ but I am not actually their brother, of course.” He looked at the boys fondly for a moment.
Sebastian thought this calm quiet was the perfect moment to finally ask. “Oh, I see, that’s very interesting. Um…Suwon, I was hoping I could call my parents.”
“Your parents.” Suwon looked at him with an expression Sebastian couldn’t read.
“Uh, yeah. As you might have guessed, I’m not local. My family’s a full ocean away, and I need to tell them I’m okay.”
“You’re alone, here in South Korea?” asked Suwon. This didn’t seem to be the real question, though.
“Yes.”
There was a long pause. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow you can call. It is almost morning as it is. Right now it is time for sleep. You will find we stick to a very rigorous schedule here.” Suwon gave Kwan a meaningful look.
“But—” started Sebastian.
He was interrupted by Kwan. “Time to turn in!” Kwan then said something in Korean, and the rest of the boys nodded and quickly made their way past Suwon, each giving him a high five as they did. “Come on, you can bunk with me,” said Kwan to Sebastian, who nodded and followed, giving Suwon a reluctant high five, though it felt really weird to.
Soon they were separated from the other boys and in Kwan’s massive bedroom, which was decorated a lot like the tour bus, dark walls with a large TV and gaming consoles and a huge bed and a large black leather sofa. Sebastian looked around for a computer or a phone. He couldn’t find either.
“Hey, do you have a phone?”
Kwan shook his head, kicked off his shoes, and made his way across the room to where there was a variety of instruments hanging on the wall, including several electric guitars. There was a full drum kit sitting in front of them.
“What about a computer, or really anything so I can contact my parents?” said Sebastian as he wandered over to join Kwan by the instruments.
“Hyung said you could call tomorrow,” replied Kwan. It felt like he wasn’t really paying attention.
“I know. I just thought that maybe…if you had a phone. Why don’t you have a phone?” It seemed weird that Kwan didn’t have such commonplace objects. Especially given the wealth of other things he did have.
“Do you play an instrument?” asked Kwan.
“Oh, uh, no, not really.” Sebastian touched the cymbal on the kit.
“You should. Playing music is really freeing.”
“Well, I feel pretty free generally, I guess….” Sebastian wasn’t sure what to make of this conversation. Everything was confusing, and nothing made sense. Two of his least favorite things.
“You like the drums?” asked Kwan.
Sebastian felt the cool metal of the cymbal under his fingers. He didn’t really know if he liked them or not. Music and the arts and all those things weren’t really what people did in his family. He’d never tried an instrument. Had never thought to try.
“Maybe.” Sebastian kept his hand on the cymbal for some reason. Possibly a symbolic one.
“We’ll teach you the drums,” said Kwan with a smile.
“I don’t think we’ll have time for that,” replied Sebastian. A part of him thought it was a very kind and generous offer, but another part of him was just even more confused.
“Oh, we’ll have time. And of course you can also learn singing and dancing.”
“Again, I really don’t think—”
“We have a big show the day after tomorrow. A big concert. Sold out. The last leg of our tour. You’ll see how much fun it is then. You’ll get a lot more into the idea, I bet.”
“Okay.”
Kwan sighed hard. Then he finally wandered away from the instruments and sat on the edge of his
bed. “You don’t know our band, do you?”
“Oh. Uh…well…no.” What was Kwan talking about? Also why did Sebastian feel bad about saying no, for some reason?
“So I guess you don’t know much about K-pop in general?”
“I don’t.” Where was Kwan going with this, Sebastian wondered.
“Well, it’s really popular. And basically, some bands are formed organically. You know, friends and stuff.”
“Yeah?” Sebastian was still holding on to the cymbal, he realized. He let it go, walked over to the couch, and sat down. Like Kwan, he sat on the edge. Unlike Kwan, he was feeling on edge.
“Yeah, and sometimes they’re created. By the record labels. There’s training when you’re young, there’s auditions, trying to find the right group balance.”
“Sure.” Sebastian knew of some American groups that had also been formed sort of that way.
“And then there’s us. We’re kind of a combination. Some of us knew each other and Suwon hyung, and some of us auditioned. When we were younger.” Another pause.
“Okay.” Sebastian felt obligated to fill every silence provided by Kwan.
“I’m sixteen.”
“Yeah. I thought you were, maybe.” He wasn’t exactly sure why Kwan was telling him his age, but Sebastian was just going to go with it for now.
“When I was your age, I thought this was all I wanted.”
“Right.”
“But now…I don’t know….” Kwan stopped. He looked at his feet.
“Now you’re not so sure?” Finally Sebastian was starting to figure it out.
Kwan nodded. He didn’t look up.
“Well, that’s normal. People change their minds about what they want to be when they grow up. Like, as of last month, all I wanted to be was a neurosurgeon, and now…” Sebastian stopped.
The Reckless Rescue Page 6