“It’s so quiet in there,” Min-Jae murmured. Cupping his hand around his ear, he leaned in close to Seung-Bae’s bedroom door and listened.

Hawk sat sprawled on the living room couch, staring at the television screen where a new idol group’s debut performance was showing on the evening music-variety show. But his mind was too chaotic, and while the seven girls synchronically bounced and shimmied, Hawk stewed. When they’d left the Park’s house earlier that afternoon, Hawk led Min-Jae to Hongdae where they’d wandered the streets for hours, pausing only to listen to the live bands and to eat snacks from the street vendors. He’d needed time to work himself up to going home and explaining the day’s embarrassing events. It was one thing to have to deal with Seung-Bae’s accusations, but Hawk felt even more uncomfortable thinking about the way Haenyeo would look at him, with her eyebrows knit and her lips tremulous, like he’d betrayed her somehow. Logic assured him the feeling was nonsensical – in all probability she really was the missing American student and just didn’t remember it for some traumatic reason. But his imagination had been kindled, and the more he thought about the strange reactions she’d triggered in all those men the day before, the stronger the idea grew that maybe there was more to her. Maybe her refusal to speak was because she was broken in ways he just didn’t understand. But when he and Min-Jae had finally arrived home, the apartment had been quiet. Too quiet. Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn to Seung-Bae’s closed bedroom door.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Min-Jae asked.

“Whatever they are doing, it’s none of your business,” he replied angrily, more to himself than to Min-Jae. “Get away from there, you ert.”

Min-Jae ignored him and pressed his ear against the door. His face scrunched in concentration.

Across the room, the front door lock beeped softly.

“I brought dinner.” Hyun-Woo kicked off his shoes. He strode into the living room carrying a work-out bag over one shoulder and a pizza box balanced against his stomach. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Seung-Bae and Haenyeo are in there,” Min-Jae hissed. “I’m trying to figure out what they’re doing. It’s so quiet.”

Hawk shrugged. “Don’t blame me. I told him not to.”

Hyun-Woo set the pizza box down on the coffee table and turned to face Min-Jae. “Have you been messing around on my laptop? I keep getting all these weird pop-ups.”

Min-Jae straightened. His eyes widened. “I was just playing games.”

“Just games?” Hyun-Woo’s eyebrow arched. “Ya! You brat, don’t watch that stuff on my computer.”

“Hyeong, it’s not what you think,” Min-Jae grinned. “It was strictly for educational purposes.”

“Educational purposes?” Hyun-Woo turned to Hawk. “Is this your influence? What are you kids doing when I’m not around?”

Hawk raised his hands defensively. “It’s not me, hyeong, I swear.”

Hyun-Woo ped his gym bag and pulled out a thin, worn paperback. “Listen,” he shook his head at Min-Jae. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and get a single home run. But if you base your strategy off of that trash, you’ll never get invited back up to bat.”

He tossed the book at Min-Jae and then headed to the bathroom to shower.

“‘The World’s Most Famous Love Poems?’” Min-Jae cringed. “Hyeong, what am I supposed to learn from this?” he complained to Hawk.

“Ya! Get away from that door already.” Hawk snatched a throw pillow off of the couch and chocked it at Min-Jae. “Don’t you think Seung-Bae can hear you? And what if they are talking in there, and you hear Haenyeo’s voice?”

“What?” Min-Jae moved towards the couch and pointed the book at Hawk. “What is this? Are you saying you believe it now? Are you saying you believe in mermaids?”

But Hawk didn’t answer and, instead, reached for the television remote and pumped up the volume.