The Kebab Incident

It’s 2 pm. We’ve been in the practice room since 8 this morning. My last meal was tea and leftover dinner that barely registered in my stomach. So I’m hungry. No, starving. The guys are still going at it with the bridge part of the choreo. Our snacks bar has been emptied, not a single bag of chips can be found. Not even a crumb. I'm craving orange juice for some reason, which might have something to do with the way I'm feeling, depleted, sapped of energy, so a little jolt of sugar might help. I'm sitting against one of the mirrored walls, watching the four fight it out. 

I don't have the energy to join the melee. Mind you, I never do but I'm specially sluggish today. Today's practice is grueling with no end in sight. Our performance director is slowly losing her patience as well. And I don't blame her, everyone seems to be at odds today. 

Our manager walks in, nods at me, then approaches the four still in the midst of an argument. I’m exhausted and honestly cranky now. If I don’t eat anything soon, I might pass out. Or commit violence. He summons me to the circle but nature is calling. I’m sweating profusely and I need to wash my face. I feel gross.

So I hold up a finger, a universal gesture for "give me a minute". He nods in response. 

As I walk out, I hear him address the four.

“It’s past lunch, what does everyone wants to eat?” He asks as the door closes behind me. They’ll have a back and forth about what to eat. But I don’t care. I already told Martin what I wanted (spicy ramyun and chicken).

I’m very tired, throat is a little achy, and my nose is running. Hence, the spicy ramyun. I find it helps when I feel congested. 

No one can’t seem to agree on the choreo and now, Martin is thinking about re-recording one of the ones included in the upcoming album. But we've already submitted our line-up, concepts, and strategic scheduling for approval to the company. I don’t blame him though, it’s one of the songs he wrote as a trainee so it’s special to him. I tried to tell him that the song is great as is, but sometimes, no words of reassurance can quiet down the noises of self-doubt compounded by his tendency to be a perfectionist.

He’s especially irritating today, though. Hell bent on making everyone’s day exceptionally bad. He vetoed every single thing that anyone had suggested, gone head to head with the twins a few times as well. To be fair, everyone was getting on my nerves today. Especially Keonho. I swear if I hear another sarcastic reply to any of my questions today, I’m walking out and going back to the dorm. Considering I never directed any of my questions to him, I don't have the tolerance for his unnecessary interjections today. Honestly, my patience thinned out at hour 3 of us walking in the practice room. 

I did my business in the washroom, splash water on my face and leave. The couch outside the practice room looks so good right now. I just want to lie down and shut my eyes for at least ten minutes. 

I sneeze.

I think I’m getting a touch of the flu. The ache I feel goes bone deep and it’s not only because of the torturous practice we've been doing all day. Now that I’ve washed up a little, I also feel cold, the kind of chill that you know isn't just brought on by cold temperature but your body's way of telling you something's attacking your immune system. So I know I'm coming down with something. 

Managernim is still in the circle, but i don’t think they’re talking about food now. He’s talking to Martin, specifically in that serious tone that indicates he’s highly irate. Then, they leave the circle and out the door of the training room. Martin glances at me briefly, then follows managernim out the door. James is sitting on the floor, ear buds in and moving his arms to the same movements we've been trying to perfect. The twins are laying side by side on the floor, heads together looking at something on Seonghyeon's phone. 

I'm back on my original position, head against the mirror. I'm really tired, my fault considering I slept late trying to finish a book that I could not put down. James woke up several times in the night, telling me to sleep but I didn't listen. So yes, I'm tired, cranky, hungry, and lacking sleep. 

James shoots up from his sitting position, energized all of a sudden. "Okay, I've thought of what we should do instead so the transition between Martin and Keonho will go smoother." 

"Wait, James," Remy interrupts. "If you don't mind, I'm going to take a break. Let's reconvene in an hour. Practice what you've got in mind, so we don't spend as much time doing and redoing the routine."

She walks out the door. 

I notice the twins didn't get up when James asks us to but they at least sit up. 

"I'm hungry," Keonho complains. 

My stomach gurgles in agreement. 

"Me, too." Sean echoes. 

I stay quiet in my corner, I don't even have the energy to agree. I close my eyes, thinking about the rich, spicy broth of ramyun. The slightly undercooked noodles that feel both stringy and chewy at the same time. The pork belly that Martin usually orders on the side for me. The bok choy, the carrots, the bean sprouts, not to mention all the banchan that comes with it. 

My mouth waters. 

The door opens with Martin carrying bags of food, no manager in sight. The smells wafting from the bags don't smell anything like ramyun or fried chicken, or anything Korean for that matter. 

I want to weep. 

I remain still. I think if I open my mouth, I will unleash holy hell on everyone. So I start hitting the back of my head against the mirror, gentle enough to not give myself a concussion. I'm trying to keep my frustrations at bay but it's not working. I may have shed a tear. I don't know if it's because I know for sure I'm ill or self-pity is taking over me. It may also have something to do with how I get when I'm sick. I usually long for the comfort of home, of my eomma who makes me a small pot of juk. My room with my books and Choco who keeps me company even if he's confined in his terrarium. 

"Bro, did you get pizza?" I hear Keonho asks. 

"Does it look like I'm carrying a box of pizza?" Martin replies sarcastically.

I hear the rustle of the bags. My appetite is gone, replaced by a seething irrational anger over food. I think the word I'm looking for is hangry.

I pause from my head banging session. The room has gone quiet for some reason. Martin is looking at me with a grimace on his face. 

"Oh, shit, Jju," he says. "I forgot you wanted ramyun and chicken." His face grows red. If the situation was completely different and I didn't feel like crap, I don't think I would mind. I can eat anything on a good day except for pudding. But this day has gone to shit since this morning and the version of me who usually has an abundance of patience has left the building. 

I don't look at him; I stare at the bags. 

It's a kebab place where we ordered from once. It's not even the best kebab place in the city. My shoulders drop and may have let out a quiet whimper. 

I stand up, wanting the leave the room or else, I'm going to explode. 

"W-wait, Jju," Martin stammers. "Come on, stay. It's just food!"

I turn my back on them. I'm being childish, I know. But I'm past caring at this point. The pain in my chest is worsening, congestion and also something akin to hurt because he forgot what I wanted to eat. The anger I feel is irrational, yes. I don't have an explanation for it. 

"Bro, you ordered kebab?!"  James exclaims. 

"But I don't want kebab!" Keonho whines. Me too, Keonho. Me, too. 

"Why didn't you ask us what we wanted?" Seonghyeon says calmly. 

Martin ignores all of them but I can feel his eyes on my back. 

Now, if it was a different day, I would tell everyone to calm down and just eat the food Martin got. I am a pacifist. I like peace and work my hardest to maintain said peace. But today is not the day and I am not the one. 

"Jju, come on," he pleads. 

I shut my eyes, let out a breath before facing him. "You ordered kebab." I say quietly.

"What?" He says. 

I clear my throat, still raw. "You ordered kebab." I repeat, slowly this time. 

The din of the three clamoring for the food they claim they didn't want drown me out. 

"What?" He says again, louder this time but sounding like a broken record just the same. 

"I said, you ordered kebab!" I scream. 

The room freezes. Everyone is looking at me. Even the staff. Because this yelling thing and expressing my anger loudly is not a thing I do. You can hear a pin drop. 

My chest rises and falls, warmth from the slight fever and embarrassment takes over my body. 

 "You ordered kebab."  I murmur.

When he didn't say anything back, I turn on my heels and walk out of the room, shutting the door behind me quietly. 

________________________________________

I'm back in the dorms. 

I told managernim that I'm not feeling well. He drove me back, then dropped off ramyun, orange juice and some flu medications. 

I only had enough energy to brush my teeth put on pajamas, a hoodie and my fluffy robe before crashing. 

At some point, someone put a cooling patch on my forehead. Probably James. I've been sleeping since I got back. I don't know how long. I didn't even hear everyone return to the dorms, so I don't know how late the practice ran. But I've been dozing on and off. You know that feeling when you have a fever and you get jolted awake for no reason? Yeah. That feeling. 

When I wake up again, I'm soaked. Sweaty and parched, my eyes open to darkness. I sit up, trying to orient myself but grow a little dizzy. I lie back down with a groan. 

Suddenly, a scary figure pops out from the floor. 

I yelp. "What the?"

I reach for the lamp beside my bed, fully awake now, only to be greeted by Martin squinting at the bright light. My bed is small, so his face is only about six-inches away from mine. 

"Bro," he says. He's apparently been sleeping on the floor. "Hey, are you feeling better?" He asks quietly. 

"What are you doing on the floor?" My voice is still raspy from sleep and from sickness. "Actually, what the heck are you doing in our room?"

"Oh uhm," he hesitates, rubbing his eyes.  "I wanted to make sure you're okay." He widens his eyes, trying to shake the fog of sleep. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little, but my throat still hurts and I'm sweaty." 

"Okay, I'll get you some change of clothes and water." He starts to rise. 

"Can I have orange juice instead?" 

"Sure," he rummages through my closet to find some change of clothes. "Come on, sit up."

I start to shed my robe, the drying sweat feels like cold water against my skin. I shiver. 

Martin grabs my blanket and wraps it around me. I try to take my shirt off but my limbs keep getting tangled. My shivers turn to violent shake, so much so that my upper and lower teeth knock against each other inside my mouth. 

"Here, bro. Let me help you." He says, then he reaches for my hoodie. I try to slap his hands away but I'm so weak. I can only do it feebly. 

"I got it," I say, throat severely parched. Slowly, I pull my arm inside the sleeve, then the other arm. 

"Here. Hold the blanket around you." He pulls my hoodie off in one careful swoop. My shivers ease down a little bit, but I'm still chilled to the bone. "Arms up," he says. He replaces it with a clean one. "You can manage with your pjs, right?" I nod in response. 

When I finish struggling changing into clean and dry pajamas, I lie back down. Feeling dizzy and weak, I black out again. 

Hours, days passed. I don't even know. Someone is shaking me awake. 

"Jju." I hear James' voice. 

I blink awake. It's brighter now; unaware of the time of day. 

"Yeah?" I croak. 

"We're going now," he says. He has on face mask so his words are muffled. "Practice." 

"Okay."

"Martin left you hot plum tea and hotteok, if you're up to it." My stomach rumbles in response. It feels like days since I've last eaten. The untouched orange juice that I asked for last night sits on my bedside table, along with steaming tea and hotteok. "There's meds that you need to take as soon as you can and if you need anything just call managernim."

"Okay," I rasps. One word responses is all I can manage apparently. 

Martin barges in before James could leave. "Hey," he says. James moves out of his way otherwise, he would've crash into him. Martin didn't seem to care either way, fully intent on getting to me. He reaches down to feel my forehead with the back of his hand but I swat him away. He laughs softly. "Stop fighting me, Kim Juhoon. I'm just going to check your temperature." He has on a face mask as well. I'm not offended, they're just trying to protect themselves. 

"I'll meet you downstairs, Martin." James leaves. 

"Sure," he says. He's not even looking at James, his attention is on me. His hand moves to my neck. I swat him again. 

"Stop, leave me alone." I mumble. 

"Okay, you're not as warm but you're sweaty again." He goes to my closet and gets me some change of clothes. "You want to shower?" 

"Yeah, later." I close my eyes again. "Just leave the clothes on James' bed, thanks." 

"Get up, drink your tea and have a bite to eat so you can take your meds." He puts his arm around my shoulder. attempting to lift me up. 

"Stop..." I say weakly. "I'll get up in a bit."

"Your tea's going cold. Come on," he urges. 

"Leave...now." I say to him. "Remy will be mad if you're all late because of me." 

He drops down on the floor and sits cross-legged, facing me. 

"What?" I say. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Your cheeks are all flushed. Are you sure you're feeling better?" His eyes are full of concern. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need sleep and food maybe." I close my eyes again, trying not to fall asleep. I need to eat something and some drugs. 

"Okay, I'll bring you something later. Anything you want." He says sheepishly. 

I lick my dry lips, cracked and chapped. I bet he's fighting the urge to give me his lip balm. "Sure." I mutter quietly.

"I'm sorry about yesterday...about your food and stuff..." I hear him murmur. "Managernim was on my ass about the album and Remy...well, I think she complained to him yesterday about how I was acting. So, I didn't even think about what everybody wanted to eat. I just told him the first thing that came to my mind." 

I nod on the pillow. It's all the energy I could muster. "It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I was already feeling like crap," I sigh and open my eyes, forcing myself to smile a little. "I was really looking forward to ramyun and chicken." I may have sounded like a whinier version of Keonho. 

His eyes crinkle, smiling in his face mask. "Okay, I'll get some on our way home. Rest, sleep, recover." He moves to stand, fixing the blanket so I'm nice and tucked in. 

For a moment, he stared at me. I thought he was going to do something stupid like kiss my forehead or something. I close my eyes and wait. 

"Night, Ju-ju," is all he said before he walks out of the bedroom. 

I black out again. 

.