Idol pursuits, p.7
Idol Pursuits, page 7
After a quick inspection, he responded. “Nothing’s wrong with the blades that a little cleaning wouldn’t fix. There’s a joist right at the light fixture, so hanging it won’t be an issue. The only real question is the capacitor. Often, that’s the first to go.”
“It doesn’t have to last forever, just until we bail on this dump.”
“I didn’t think of bringing any wire nuts, though.”
“I think I saw some in the storage shed out back,” said Sun-hee.
“Can you show me?”
The pair proceeded to the backyard. Per the house practice of removing shoes indoors, a small variety of plastic sandals was made available by the patio door for general use outside. Sun-hee deftly slipped into a pair, and Steve more awkwardly followed suit. A quick survey of the detritus on the shed floor revealed four wire nuts that Steve figured would suit his purpose.
Upon returning to the house, Sun-hee entered first, with well-practiced ease. Steve had a more difficult time. Propping himself against the doorframe, he awkwardly raised his right foot while shaking off one plastic sandal. With nowhere else to stand, he stepped on the concrete while repeating the process with his left foot. Only then did Steve proceed into the house while tracking outdoor soil with him.
Sun-hee grimaced in disapproval. Vanessa watched closely as she rebuked Steve, but only in the most Sun-hee way possible, which meant gently and kindly. “Here. Let me show you the right way.” Indicating her neatly arranged sandals at the base of the threshold, she explained, “See how mine are pointing out?
Steve nodded shyly.
“If you walk backward into the house like this.” She demonstrated the technique again as though it were second nature. “Your sandals will be ready next time you need them.” She smiled. “Plus, if you follow this method, your bare feet won’t get dirty by walking on the concrete. Even just a little.” Her easy-going mannerism evoked a similar smile in return from Steve. They looked at each other tenderly but said no more.
Vanessa had seen enough. She realized the two, left to their own devices, would never get together. An intervention was necessary. Her opportunity came moments later.
“I’m walking to the store to get sesame oil for my recipe,” said Sun-hee. “I won’t be long, but dinner’ll be a tad late.” She left the front door open to allow fresh air in.
Vanessa waited a couple minutes to ensure Sun-hee was well gone. Before Steve could climb back onto the ladder, she pulled out her phone. “Let me show you something.” She started a video and showed it to Steve. The clip was from one of the group’s recent dance rehearsals. It focused on Sun-hee’s performance taken from behind. She wore a white sports jersey with a large number 92 printed on the back and form-fitting athletic shorts that displayed her extreme fitness. The clip lasted 20 seconds, after which Vanessa promptly retrieved her phone.
“She’s a good dancer,” said a slightly puzzled Steve.
“True. But answer me this.”
“Okay.”
“What number was on her jersey?”
Steve froze. His face turned sportscar red. Vanessa pulled the phone away in time as he awkwardly tried to grab it. Steve tried to return to the job as if doing so would make Vanessa forget her question.
“She won’t be back for a while. You have time.”
“Well…um.”
Vanessa smiled slyly. “Caught you.”
“That’s totally unfair.”
“She likes you, you know?”
Steve stepped onto the ladder. “Sun-hee? I like her too.”
“No. I mean, she likes you, likes you.” Steve froze again but kept his eyes firmly affixed to the exposed ceiling box and said nothing. Vanessa waved her hand in front of his face. “Hello! Does that even register?”
“It could mean a lot of things. Are you sure?”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “How obvious do I need to make it? Let me put it in guy terms for you. Her Hidden Valley could use some ranch dressing. Get the picture? Or do I need to prepare flow charts, too?”
Once the message had fully registered, Steve took his hand off the ladder and assessed Vanessa. “Really? Why didn’t she say so?”
“Ugh.” Vanessa snorted and dropped her head into the palm of her hand. “She’s been trying to tell you since forever. You’re just too dense to pick up the clues.”
Steve sighed. “Yeah, I can be dense at times.”
“Don’t you have a free ticket to the Oscars lying around?”
“Hmm,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then your mission, should you choose to accept it, has become clear.”
“I see your point.”
“Don’t pass on this opportunity. She’s a keeper.”
“She is, isn’t she?”
“And if you’re still holding out for Heather, you’re even more hopeless than I thought.”
* * *
Steve had barely managed to make it halfway through the invitation before Sun-hee readily accepted. While the consequence of an event like the Oscars was exciting, the fact that Steve picked her over Heather was thrilling. She walked on clouds for the rest of that day, pinching herself occasionally to ensure it wasn’t a dream. That said, the reality of his invitation hit home when Vanessa admitted to priming the pump in her favor.
“Wait, you told him?” Sun-hee was instantly distraught at this news. “About my feelings?”
“Yeah, but why the alarm?” Vanessa seemed genuinely surprised by Sun-hee’s reaction.
“When I tell you things privately, I expect them to stay that way.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“That’s not the point. I thought Steve invited me of his own volition.”
“He did. I just pushed him along a bit.”
“Ness, you had no right to do that.”
“Why are you always so timid? Life rewards boldness.”
“I know directness is always your best policy, but have you ever stopped to consider other people’s feelings first?”
“I mean, I —”
“You can’t just blab secrets. Or make decisions on behalf of others.”
“Sun-hee, I’m sorry. I just wanted to help.”
“I know. And I appreciate that, but sometimes your honesty hurts those you’re closest to.”
Sun-hee rode a tempest of emotions in the days preceding the Oscars. The numerous preparatory details, her continued commitments to the band, and her schoolwork were enough to occupy her mind and body in all waking hours. On the other hand, she felt terrible for chastising Vanessa. Not that her friend let it bother her. Unflappable Ness rarely did. But she had a good point.
In retrospect, Sun-hee thought she might have overreacted. A secret is only embarrassing, after all, if the truth is something to be ashamed of. Revealing romantic feelings wasn’t embarrassing per se, especially if those feelings were reciprocated. More critical was the point that some efforts require determination to succeed. Ness was a living example, having secured a full scholarship at SIU through sheer will and talent.
This was Sun-hee’s mother’s exact point on many occasions, if in different words. Why did she feel compelled to keep inner desires private, even if sharing them openly would further her cause? She had no answer. But Vanessa’s advice deserved heeding. Sun-hee made a concerted effort from then on to face her fears. She was determined to pursue all she had neglected, all she had yearned for, and all that made life worth living.
* * *
Their excitement steadily grew as the chauffeur drove them to the Dolby Theater. From a vantage point in the back seat of the town car, Steve and Sun-hee watched the passing spectacle unfold. At first, small groups gathered along temporary traffic barriers, holding up signs and waving heartily at any dark-tinted vehicle passing by. The crowds steadily grew larger until people stood shoulder to shoulder on both sides of the road. At that point, event traffic was separated from through traffic. Now, every vehicle in all five lanes was either a stretch limousine or an exclusive town car. Occasionally, an occupant would roll down a window to wave at spectators, who would roar back their approval at being acknowledged by a celebrity, albeit briefly. As an experiment, Steve tried this, too, producing the same results. Sun-hee giggled in delight. The crowd was not picky about their brushes with ‘fame.’
For days before the ceremony, Hollywood Boulevard was closed to all traffic in preparation for the Academy Awards. This was to facilitate the construction of a small village of temporary structures needed to support the grand pageant. Sun-hee’s limited familiarity with much smaller red-carpet events on the periphery of the K-Pop world did not prepare her for what was to come. As their limousine halted in the disembarkation area, ushers opened the door. The view she beheld upon stepping out of the vehicle was breathtaking.
The entirety of the road stretching from Highland Avenue to the theater was now covered by the vast, famous red and gold carpet. A transparent roof covered most of this space, allowing California’s famed sunshine in while guarding against the slim but still existent chance of late-season rain. On both sides, rows of cameras and reporters jostled each other in an unceasing effort to grab the attention of passing celebrities, with current nominees held in the highest regard. Towering above this tableau were long rows of bleachers packed with fans. They shouted and screamed upon glimpsing a favorite star, holding out hope that their unbridled enthusiasm would garner a simple wave or a blown kiss in their direction. Overhead, a squadron of helicopters hovered in a synchronized aerial ballet, aiming to capture the best images for their respective media outlets.
Once through the security tent, Steve paused before holding out an arm for the procession. In that brief moment, he assessed Sun-hee thoroughly. She’d seen that look on his face only once before, in the presence of Heather. But this was Sun-hee’s night to shine, the once-in-a-lifetime moment hers alone to share with Steve.
“Words cannot express how great you look tonight,” he said. Sun-hee grabbed his arm like a princess being escorted into a grand ballroom. He wisely had chosen a standard tuxedo, graciously ceding the spotlight to his date. “All these celebrities and you’re the one turning heads.” Whether that was factual or not, it’s how she felt. His compliment caused a warm glow to well from her deepest core. The truth was her unique style did make an impression. Classy, elegant, modern, yet oh so timeless. There was no other ensemble remotely like it at the Oscars that night.
Not content to pick out a dress from her closet and unable to afford anything fancier, Sun-hee improvised. She contacted a friend in the Korean fashion industry who connected her with a promising young designer from Seoul. Jo David was making a name for himself with modern takes on traditional Korean hanboks. Sun-hee sweet-talked him into lending out one of his high-end designs, selling him on the notion that the Oscars would generate incomparable exposure for his new fashion house. The result of the collaboration was extraordinary.
Sun-hee wore a high-waisted hanbok, richly hand-embroidered with silver and gold-colored floral motifs. The jeogori upper half was predominantly white, with intricate embroidery spilling onto sheer sleeves. Gradually, the predominant color transitioned to gold on the floor-length, lower-half chima skirt, accented by generous swirls of silver and white. A traditional woven norigae accessory, worn on the front, was a blazing imperial red with streaks of gold, silver, and white for accent. The impact of this color combination ensorcelled the eye, especially in an environment laden with towering golden statues and red carpets in every direction.
Sun-hee’s hairstyle was inspired by Joseon Dynasty fashion to complement this garment. Jo David’s recommended hair stylist, Kayla, contributed a masterpiece. Sun-hee’s long locks were first braided into a lengthy daenggi, then folded into a loop and spun into a circular coil. This was fixed into place by a singular binyeo stick that was bejeweled in a pattern mimicking the floral motif on the hanbok. Its red coloring stood in sharp contrast to the garment. Sun-hee’s coil was further enhanced with a sizeable red lace flower and an array of silver and gold pearls that bespangled her hair like a resplendent cosmos.
It should be noted that Sun-hee was quite well aware that historically, single women such as herself would have worn their hair in long, straight braids. She rejected this practice for three reasons. Her attire was a modern take on tradition; as a modern woman, she’d wear what she pleased. Secondly, a coil simply complemented her outfit better. The final reason was sending a subconscious message to a date, whom she assumed (correctly) was not up to speed on the meaning of Joseon hair fashion. True, the gesture’s significance would be lost on him, but she found it slyly humorous nonetheless.
In the end, matched with pale base makeup and classic red lipstick, Sun-hee’s ensemble looked absolutely stunning. The color combination produced by her aesthetic meshed perfectly with the surroundings. Onlookers struggled to determine who the remarkably dressed guest was. ‘Surely she has to be famous,’ is what Sun-hee imagined they were thinking. It took no effort to get onto the VIP side of the carpet. One glimpse and no security guard would dare deny her that privilege.
On multiple occasions, Sun-hee was stopped by photographers calling for poses. She entertained every request. As an added perk, Sun-hee recognized a clutch of TV crews from Korean broadcasting networks about halfway down the processional, including KBS, MBC, Arirang, and SBS. After a quick exchange, she was interviewed by each of the reporters, who were curious to learn more about this high-profile newcomer from home. If onlookers were on the fence regarding Sun-hee’s fame before, they weren’t any longer. The copious attention lavished upon her suggested she must be important, even if few could point out why. Ever dutiful, Sun-hee remembered to plug Made in Heaven at every opportunity, winning priceless exposure at absolutely no cost.
Steve and Sun-hee had a good laugh afterward. It was the first of many they shared that night. During the ride home, she gushed about the many famous celebrities they met and took ussies with. Even more impressive was the untold number who complimented her fashion sense in return. She described the evening as a fairy tale princess’s dream come true. Steve made a remarkable comment in the limousine as they approached The Hovel. “I’ve never seen this side of you before. It’s attractive.”
Sun-hee simply smiled and placed her hand on his as a combination of thank you and goodnight. When the chauffeur opened the door, she hesitated. Throwing caution to the wind, she gave him a quick hug before exiting.
At The Hovel the next day, practice was cut short in favor of a contest. Grace’s idea, the game involved scouring the internet to find photographs that featured Sun-hee. The prize was a baker’s dozen bagels with lox. For her part, Sun-hee insisted that nobody would publish her photo once they realized her low status. She was wrong. Utilizing superior research skills, Erin managed to find an astounding 12 different publications that, in whole or in part, featured Sun-hee in her hanbok. Grace found another unique four, Mindy and June each found two, and Vanessa one. Erin readily shared the prize, though she retained the right of first pick (spinach Florentine).
Throughout the excitement, Heather remained noticeably silent, hardly participating in the banter and making no effort to research photos. As the lox was distributed, she went out the back door without saying a word.
“What’s wrong with her?” asked Erin.
“You mean, what’s wrong with her now,” corrected Vanessa.
As the bagels were consumed, Sun-hee answered questions and told stories about her Oscar night. Some tales were repeated, but the girls lapped them like fresh milk. By the time they had finished eating, Heather still had not returned. Sun-hee took the last remaining bagel and prepared a plate with cream cheese and chives.
On the patio outside, Heather was listening to Matthew Sweet’s “Sick of Myself” on her phone. “I brought you a treat,” said Sun-hee.
Heather’s eyes lit up as the plate was set before her. She quickly took a bite and thanked her.
“Are you okay?” Asked Sun-hee while taking a seat opposite her friend.
Heather smiled. “It looked like an amazing time.”
“You seem upset. Did I do something wrong?”
“I’m fine. Part of growing up is learning to appreciate what you have.” Sun-hee shot her a skeptical side-eye. “What did I say?” Heather asked with a tinge of guilt in her voice.
“Be honest. Do you have feelings for Steve?”
Heather shook her head, eyes widening. “Don’t get any funny ideas, now.”
“Then what is it? To be clear, I’m confused by the mixed signals. Steve is, too, frankly.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. I expected him to act maturely regarding our friendship, and now I have to learn to do the same. That’s all.”
“When you told him to invite someone else to the Oscars, I wasn’t off limits, was I?”
“You’re not. It’s just —”
Sun-hee waited for her to continue. “Just what?”
“It’s a me thing. You did nothing wrong. Neither of you. I’m glad you had fun.”
“Are you sure?”
Heather used her hand to trace an X across her chest. “Honest.”
Following their extraordinary night together, Sun-hee and Steve instituted a practice of talking to each other at a minimum once a day. Even if it was only for a few minutes at a time, the habit kept them connected over the months to come. This proved valuable, as both would be flung to the winds due to unfolding events.
7
SIGNING DAY
Heather eagerly anticipated Mindy’s return home from her job at Amorphous Records. Her bandmate was bearing a much-in-demand physical copy of Glimmer Blue’s latest release, Nine Tails. The album was pre-ordered through the store to ensure they’d have it on release day. For those in attendance, Heather, Vanessa, and Mindy, the listening party proved transformative.
To K-Pop fans, unboxing a new album is a special occasion. A moment to savor, not rush. Before tearing off the plastic wrap, they assess the decorative box it comes in. In this case, a stylized depiction of a fox with multitudinous tails was etched into the lid.
