Late Night in New York

"I'm seriously dead tired…."

Noh Bihyuk's face on the screen looked haggard. Watching a kid slowly waste away put a knot in my chest.

"Did you manage to get any sleep?"

"Like three hours? Still more than yesterday, though."

No wonder he was worn to the bone. As a rookie, Bihyuk stayed busy even now that promotion season had wound down.

Wouldn't it be better to sleep than waste time video-calling me? The reasonable thought crossed my mind, but I could picture exactly how sulky his face would get if I said it out loud, so I swallowed it.

"How's Euntaek hyung?"

"Everyone but me is out cold."

Bihyuk swung his phone around to show me the inside of the van. Every member except him had been wiped out completely — a row of sleep masks and blankets, all of them slumped over mid-slumber. It was almost pitiable to look at.

"You're working hard. The new variety show's getting a good reception, though. You saw the comment roundup I sent you, right?"

"Yeah. Watched it with all the hyungs. Thanks for that."

His voice was thick with sleepiness. About time to hang up.

"Get some rest. Call you tomorrow."

"You hang in there today too. Don't get too worked up — just do what you always do."

"I will."

"…Huh. You really aren't nervous at all, are you? You're honestly something else."

Bihyuk muttered it with an expression of pure disbelief.

"How are you about to go on America's biggest talk show and not be nervous? You have to hold the whole conversation in English, even. Aren't you scared you'll mess up?"

"Of course I'm scared."

"And THAT'S the face of someone who's scared?"

Bihyuk shook his head slowly, side to side.

"You really were born gifted, huh. Anyway — go crush it."

I told him I would and ended the call.

Outside the window, dusk had quietly deepened into red. Nothing left to do, then.

Maybe it was because I'd spent two full days cooped up in the hotel since arriving in New York, but I didn't feel the slightest bit nervous — only bored. On the first day, without giving it much thought, I'd walked out bare-faced into the foreign city, only to jolt when someone shouted the moment I hit the hotel entrance.

Come to think of it, there are plenty of Koreans in New York too. I'd put my mask on right away after that. Even so, the stares I felt were oddly intense — far beyond the level I could brush off — and in the end I'd had to retreat back to the hotel within two hours.

Probably because of Jinbae hyung. If I saw a man pushing 190 centimeters walking down the street, I'd stare too. But I couldn't exactly go out alone without him, so I'd resigned myself to two days of hotel confinement.

"Actor-nim. It's about time to start getting ready."

"Ah, yes."

It was five in the afternoon. The Jim Fury Show's live broadcast began at nine. The styling team filed into the room and handed over the wardrobe.

"A full suit felt like overkill, so we focused on jackets."

"Thank you."

As always, the clothes the stylists brought were handsome pieces. I changed into the prepared outfit and sat down for makeup, and the stylist noona studied my face closely.

"Yeonjae-ya."

"Yes?"

"Are you really not nervous? How are you this calm?"

Her face was genuinely puzzled. From Bihyuk to the noonas — why did everyone keep saying that?

"I thought you were just hiding it well, but looking at you now, you really don't seem nervous at all."

"Right? It's a total contrast to the fan meeting. Back then you agonized over every single outfit, and now you haven't said a word."

I answered a little sheepishly at the other staff member's remark.

"Please don't compare it to the fan meeting…. How is a TV show anything like a fan meeting?"

"Fair enough. The MC and the audience probably aren't even that interested in me — I'm just going on to plug the drama for a few minutes, that's all."

Looked at that way, there really was no reason to be nervous. Everyone shook their heads at my answer, and only Jinbae hyung smiled and gave my shoulder a pat.

"The actor's right. So don't be nervous — go say everything you want to say."

At his kind words, I nodded, and the staff began tossing in their own comments one by one.

"Turns out the manager's part of the problem too."

"I was thinking the exact same thing."

Chatter followed about how birds of a feather really did flock together. What's that supposed to mean? I opened my mouth to ask, but Jinbae hyung brushed it off and changed the subject, telling me to pay it no mind.

"Oh, Mr. Lee! Wonderful to have you!"

Jim Fury, whom I'd met beforehand before the live broadcast, was friendlier than I'd expected. When he asked whether there was anything he should know before the show started, I requested that he speak slowly enough for me to follow. The cluttered greenroom felt much like any Korean broadcast studio, and while I was trading jokes with Jinbae hyung, showtime crept up on us before I knew it.

"When I give you the signal, just open the curtain and walk out."

Following the stagehand's instructions, I took my place behind the familiar curtain. Beyond it, Jim Fury's high-voltage voice was rolling out over the studio.

Only a few minutes passed before I heard my introduction.

"Our next guest is the Bloody Boy everyone's talking about! The lead actor of Killing Horn — and the youngest performer ever to win Best Actor at last year's Cannes Film Festival! Wow, that is one LOUD cheer out there!"

Good grief.

The blistering introduction made my face burn. The applause was unusually thunderous — perhaps the audience really had been recruited as paid extras.

"Give a warm welcome — Lee Yeonjae!"

My name rang out in clumsy, rounded syllables, and at the same moment the stagehand beside me gave the signal. The instant I pushed through the curtain, band music crashed in and a colossal roar of cheers poured down.

What is this.

There was no way Biyeon had followed me all the way to New York.

Are they really temp staff? At this level, shouldn't they be paid double overtime?

I was dumbfounded by the sheer passion of the welcome. Keeping my expression carefully managed, I exchanged a light handshake with Jim Fury.

Ah.

I want to bow.

To greet someone so much my senior like this, of all ways. The Confucian spirit inside me squirmed.

Even now, the urge to bend at the waist was overwhelming, but I did as I'd rehearsed and waved to the audience instead. The cheers swelled louder. The torment deepened.

I'm so sorry….

Guilt prickled at me, but I fought to keep the smile in place. I understood the principle — when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Even so, the American greeting was a cruel trial for a Korean.

And I'm already exhausted.

The moment I settled onto the sofa, the drum roll softened and the cheers finally subsided.

"Wow — you really do live up to the hype! I have never seen this audience this fired up for anyone!"

It was obviously a setup line, and I answered it with a smile and my thanks. Jim Fury was courteous and cheerful in equal measure; I could feel the care he took with his enunciation and word choice so I could follow along easily. Thanks to that, whatever tension remained in me dissolved completely.

We talked at length — everything from the viral challenge videos of the moment to the drama — when Jim suddenly fixed me with a searching look. And then, out of nowhere, he said:

"Are you sure you're not American?"

"…?"

I beg your pardon? When I tilted my head, Jim let out an awkward laugh.

"I don't mean any offense — it's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just that your English is far, far too good. You told me before the show you'd only been learning it recently, didn't you?"

"It has been over a year."

"That's exactly my point! Even if I studied Korean for a year, there's no way I'd speak it as smoothly as you speak English!"

This man really knows how to lay it on thick. I shrugged, smiling.

"I did study extra hard these past few days, knowing I'd be coming on the show."

"Really? And how exactly did you study?"

The single most important thing in learning a foreign language is vocabulary. Memorize words like a maniac and holding a conversation with locals isn't so difficult. I'd already banked more words than I could count; all that remained was smoothing out the pronunciation.

And copying other people is the easiest way to do that. So for days I'd watched nothing but the Jim Fury Show, zeroing in on Jim's pronunciation and cadence. Mimic a native speaker a few hundred times, and a convincing accent assembles itself.

"You could think of it as something like acting practice."

Jim's face said he understood none of it. So I simply showed him.

"Like this, for example. 'Hello, everybody — Jim Fury here on The Tonight Show! Great to have you with us!'"

"…!! Oh my god — what did you just DO?!"

The moment I reproduced his signature opening line verbatim, the man was aghast. He was probably not asking out of genuine ignorance, but just to be safe, I answered.

"I was doing an impression of you."

"I KNOW that!!"

Figured as much.

"I mean — HOW did you do it?!"

"You put real weight on your L's and let your S's glide. And before you say your own name, you pull the corners of your mouth up about this much."

I reeled off, one by one, the quirks of Jim's speech I'd absorbed naturally from watching him countless times. I don't come across as a stalker, do I. Praying he wouldn't take it the wrong way, I explained calmly, and the man exhaled a long, deep breath.

"Wow. Honestly? This is staggering. When I heard you'd be on, I binged your drama the day before yesterday. You and H are so different on screen that even that felt alien to me… and now I'm watching you talk exactly like me, and it's giving me chills!"

It was a reaction so passionate that I began to understand why the man hosted television for a living. Delivering that level of energy every single show must be no small feat.

Making money really isn't easy. The professionalism was palpable. When I smiled my thanks, Jim raised both hands in the air.

"A brilliant actor — no wonder you're popular! And on top of everything, that dazzling face of yours!"

The compliment was too much to react to gracefully, and I smiled awkwardly — at which Jim bellowed toward the audience, asking them whether he wasn't right. Please, stop….

And just as I sat there suffering, the question finally arrived. The one question no Korean celebrity crossing into Hollywood could ever dodge.

"With popularity like yours, surely your girlfriend must get jealous, no?"

Jim grinned, sly as a fox.