“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, Cher.” Seungri exhaled in a little huff and switched his phone to his other ear. “Even though I’m not actually living in my parents’ basement, I might as well be. They keep setting me up with the daughters of their friends.”

Chaerin gave a low chuckle. “I actually think they know you’re never going to end up marrying a nice girl and raising 2.5 kids in a McMansion on Lake Washington.”

“Probably. I just don’t feel up to telling them while my career is… on hold. Their well-meaning concern is hard enough to take as it is. I got a call from mom last night and she started right off with ‘I don’t bring this up to burden you, but…’”

“Yup. I remember how she was the last time they visited you in LA. You got so faced the night they flew back. I think I still have that clip of you trying to DJ while dancing on a table. For when I need blackmail fodder.”

Seungri laughs good-naturedly at the ribbing. In truth he don’t really mind, he’s never been overly concerned about whatever drunk stunts he’s pulled over the years. Plus, Chaerin would never actually use it—he eventually does whatever she’s cajoling him to do for her anyway.

“Hey, remember that underground rapper you showed me a while back? T.O.P—the one with the crazy hats? I think he’s my therapist.”

“What?” Chaerin suddenly sounds more interested in the call.

“I’m not sure, but they look an awful lot alike. Dr. Choi, that’s the guy’s name, he’s really into the indie/underground music scene here. We ended up chatting about it a bunch.”  Seungri felt a little rush just saying his name. He hoped Chaerin wouldn’t pick up on that over the phone.

Chaerin was as annoying perceptive as usual. “So, on a scale of 1 to Robert Downey Jr., how hot is the good doctor?”

Seungri sighed. “Thor.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah.” Giving in to the inevitable, Seungri spilled the rest. “Glasses. Mad Men classy with a twist. Really ing intense eyes. But mostly it’s his deep, deep voice. And his smile. And….”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get the picture.” Chaerin paused to consider. “And he might be both a doctor and a rapper? You might actually please both your parents and yourself with this one.”

Glumly, Seungri tried to rein the conversation back in. “Please don’t get ahead of yourself, Cher. I haven’t come out to them yet, and anyway, I’m pretty sure even if Dr. Choi is gay, and was interested in me, it would never happen because of professional ethics or something.”

“Bull. Make it happen pretty boy. You can always get a new therapist, but you’ve been living like a monk for way too long. You’re not on that stupid show anymore. For once, just leave your public image behind and seduce a nice guy. It’s healthy. And before you come up with any dumb excuses, I’ve gotta go—I’ve got to go pretend I’m happy getting three lines in someone else’s music video.”

It was an old topic with them—being an “other” in the US music industry. They’d both thought about trying out for a Korean company, but as Chaerin always reminded Seungri, they’d also be seen as foreigners in Korea. It was a moot point anyway—they both had built decent careers in LA. At least one of them still did.

“I know you’ll slay. Take your best shot and keep moving to bigger things,” Seungri said. “Love ya, bye.”

Seunghyun walked slowly away from the hippopotamus lot. A few steps in front of him, Ryan didn’t seem an