By the time Jaesung got back to the minor family’s house, everybody but Trace had left. Jett and Feng went to the diner to get drunk, most likely, and Vince was nowhere to be found. The room, which had been so comfortable, was now too small and restricting. The gun tucked in his waistband felt like it was searing through the fabric.

The walk home had been terrifying. Night time blanketed the sky by then, and the streetlights illuminated his way home. He was aware that it was foolish to think anyone could spot the weapon concealed on him, but he couldn't help imagining that everyone who passed by was staring at it.

Jaesung let out a deep sigh. “Why can’t I catch a break?”

“What happened?” Looking over the edge of the couch, Trace’s cerulean-blue eyes questioned him.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bug me?” Jaesung hopped onto the sofa, squeezing in as close to Trace as possible. He could see the computer nerd scowling at him, but not budging from his spot. It was an unusual, yet satisfying feeling to know that Trace allowed him in his space. He must have sensed something amiss about Jaesung to tolerate it.

“Here, pick out something to watch. Just not reality TV.” Reluctantly, Trace relinquished the remote.

Temporarily pushing aside his concerns, he accepted the peace offering.

After hours of watching cartoons, he finally dozed off on the sofa with Trace and wasn't roused until the next day by Feng and Jett arguing in the kitchen. Jaesung rose, only to be stopped by Trace’s scrawny leg over his torso, wrapped up in the blanket.

Someone whistled behind them. “What kind of party did I miss last night?”

“Screw you.” Jaesung grabbed a pillow and flung it at Jett, who easily dodged it. “How’s your head this morning, asshole?”

“Dude, we had so many drinks.” Feng shoved past the tattooed blonde. “The diner even had a stripper. It’s like they were celebrating something. The place was packed like sardines.”

“Do you even understand what that means?” asked Jett. He stared at Feng, incredulous.

“Packed tightly together, like sardines in a can,” said Trace. Right when Feng said it, Trace quickly pulled out his phone to look up the definition.

Jett heaved a sigh and raked his fingers through his hair, obviously exasperated. “Thank you, Trace. Where would we be without your googling skills?”

Oblivious to his sarcasm, he replied. “You’re welcome.”

Jaesung tried to hold in his laugh, but lost it as soon as he glanced at Trace, who looked utterly pissed at being woken up by Feng of all people. He couldn’t help it. Trace’s glare could kill. The laugh racked his body, and he shook as tears fell from his face. It was as if all the tension had disappeared from him.

If only for a moment, he thought everything would be alright.

After Jaesung’s laughter died down, he bid everyone farewell and headed home. He wrapped the gun in his coat, giving it one more glance, before leaving. It was challenging to keep his thoughts away from yesterday’s events, but he had to try. His grandparents didn’t need to detect that anything was wrong with him.

The door was open when he got to his house. At the kitchen counter was his halmeoni, chopping up vegetables. The rice cooker was turned on and moved off to the side. Gochujang and soy sauce were next to the bowl. His heart warmed. She was preparing his favorite Korean dish, Bibimbap.

Upon seeing him, her face lit up. “You didn’t come home last night. I was worried.”

Her Korean was easier to make out when she wasn’t scolding him. “I stayed out late with the guys, so I crashed there.”

“Be careful out there.” She reached for his hands across the table. “It’s dangerous out there at night, with all those gangsters acting as if they own the place. Stay out of their way and come straight home after work.”

If only she knew. Would she be disappointed in her only grandson? He grasped her hand, her petite and fragile fingers gripping his more tightly.

“Yeah, I hear you loud and clear. So, do you want some help with lunch prep?”

She grinned widely and told him what to do, her Korean slow and steady. The extra pep in her step made what he was going to do even harder to swallow. Would he ever be able to look her in the eyes again?

Hiding his true emotions inside, he beamed down at her, the tightness in his chest intensifying.

Gochujang - hot red pepper paste.
Bibimbap - mixed rice, veggies, gochujang, and beef.