My Seoul Man

Chapter 27

I bless God for friends like Yoli who do what needs doing just when it needs doing, even when it shocks the shit out of whoever they're doing it for.

She grabbed me by the arm as I was letting her and Ronnie in, yanked me out onto the porch and hissed, "Read this," as she shoved her cell into my hand.

It was a Rolling Stone article she'd found that listed the accomplishments of the top ten honorees on that Time list. The little blurb under AJ's head shot said:

"Third generation K-pop idol Ahn Ji-Yeong, 26, first parlayed his popularity into The Angel Alliance, an online network manned by "Ahn's Angels," long-time fans who pair up to help each other pass the grueling high stakes test virtually all young Koreans spend many an arduous hour preparing for every year.

But when he discovered how many of his "Angels" could not afford the intense test prep courses that give wealthy kids a decisive advantage, he founded and financed The Angel Academy to offer scholarships, courses, tutors and study materials—all free of charge.

And now, to alleviate both 'test stress' and other forms of adolescent and everyday angst, there's also the Angel Alliance Discord server where kids in crisis are put in touch with both volunteer "Angel Assistants" and social service organizations.

'I don't know if the one we just lost ever reached out to us,' Ahn said, referring to a fan who committed suicide two months ago. "But we're available 24/7--my Angels are, I mean. I just check in every morning to answer 'thank you' posts. To be part of the process in some small way.'"

That last line was like a little slap upside the head, I'm not going to lie. I mean, I felt like a damned fool for assuming those "morning chores" were just him playing around with his stans.

Yoli read my face and said, "Look, I'm just sayin' we'll work through whatever's happening at the damned district, okay? But this is, like...this huge honor he just received, so..."

"I don't think my mind actually grasps what he's telling me most of the time. Like...when you're watching the news and it's all crazy stuff happening 'way far away—stuff that doesn't happen in your world, you know what I mean?"

"I had one of those 'It's only a movie' moments myself when you told me," she chuckled.

"Yeah, but you two hobknob with the rich and famous a lot, though. Celebrities and all that."

"For business purposes, sure. Kind of like AJ said once. They introduce us to everyone at their little parties like, 'Look! Real Indians!'"

After a little "I hear you, girl" laugh and hug, I said, "So let's stick to the original plan then."

"I'm down," she declared. "Cause we say we're going to at least stop and buy one of those pies every time we drive down but after the long drive we're too tired to make that detour, right?"

"Well, it's the kind of thing he came home for, you know? The corny, small-town stuff."

We sailed into the house where AJ reached out to me and said, "Let's call somebody official over there and find out what the hell's really going on."

But I stepped up close, kissed his nose and said, "Actually, I'm going to take a lesson from your mom and trust my tomorrow self to deal with that—lez do this, cover boy!"

He wore a much cuter disguise than the food truck thing. Ray Bans, messy man bun and a muscle tee that showed off all his tats.

He'd rebelled against the company "tat taboo" that they quit enforcing as soon as the "bad boy" image boosted sales and interest from the media and fashion designers.