Presently, her mother reentered the room and found us sitting forlornly in silence. Judging by the lack of surprise in her expression, I assumed that this had been her daughter—my friend’s—normal behavior for quite some time now. She gave us a small smile and softly guessed, “She didn’t say much?”

“We tried…” Ara-noona explained, her voice trailing off.

Her mother turned back to the girl and called her name. “Your friends came all this way to see you; shouldn’t you be more welcoming?” she chided gently. There was no anger in her voice.

I wanted to ask how long she had been like this, but I couldn’t bring myself to add any more pain to the grief already welled up in her mother’s eyes.

“How have you been, Kyuhyun-gun, Ara-yang?” she then asked us politely, turning around.

What could I say in response? How could I tell her about my still ongoing successful career as one of Korea’s Hallyu stars, while her daughter sat listlessly in bed?

“Fine,” I mumbled, ashamed without completely understanding why.

She nodded. “Eat some watermelon,” she encouraged us. “I’ll bring some over to you.”

“No—please, it’s not necessary,” I protested, while next to me Ara-noona voiced similar noises of dissent. “We already brushed our teeth, so…”

She just looked at us. “So brush them again,” she said.

I lowered my gaze. “I—I can’t,” I whispered, and then she seemed to drop it.

"Come into the living room, then,” she told us briskly, as Ara-noona and I stood up. Addressing her daughter by name again, she turned to my friend and asked her, “Do you want to watch a movie with Kyuhyun-sshi and Ara-sshi? They’re going to watch it right now.”

Clutching at my script in the small bag I carried, I shot a look at my sister. We are? I mouthed. I had really wanted to go home.

Because I was suddenly, inexplicably, mysteriously, just, so very… exhausted.

Ara-noona grabbed my hand and squeezed it, looking away. She was as distressed as I was, but both of us couldn’t bring ourselves to admit it out loud. Wordlessly, we followed my friend’s mother out of the bedroom and into the living room, where some of the ahjusshis were watching a football game.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to—” I suggested timidly as she announced, “These two are going to watch a movie now.”

Without complaint, the two ahjusshis immediately got off the couch. I turned to her urgently—“It’s fine, we really don’t—”

“It’s Happy Feet 2,” she said pointedly, and my heart sank. That was the last movie I wanted to see right now. I hadn’t even seen the first one to boot.

“I really don’t… think that’s a good idea,” I said miserably. I was desperate to leave, to go home, to retreat back to the happy smiles of my family, and more importantly, I had Radio Star to MC tomorrow and I needed some time to prepare—

And something was stinging the inside of my eyes.

“It’s a good movie,” she insisted. “I’ll play it for you.”

“I’ve already seen it before,” Ara-noona guiltily whispered to me.

“Sit, sit, sit,” the ahjusshis were badgering us. “Come sit on the couch!” They peered at us with interest. “Kyuhyunnie’s a star, now,” one now remarked nostalgically.

“He’s quite famous among the younger generation,” the other commented in agreement, and I flushed, unsure of how the others were taking it.

“Ara-yang, too,” they then continued, glancing at my sister. She bowed politely, but while her head was down, I saw her sneak a glance at her watch.

“We’ve been here for over an hour now…”

“Why aren’t you sitting?”

“We don’t—” I tried to explain again. I indicated my sister. “She’s already seen the movie, and I—I haven’t even watched the first one, so—” Naturally, we don’t want to watch this movie right now, I concluded silently.

I didn’t understand why no one seemed to listen to us. My friend’s mother had started playing the movie, and had even left and returned with watermelon slices before we even noticed what was going on.

“Eat,” she said, putting the plate in front of us.

I merely turned away. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, and I didn’t want to.

In silence, we sat on the couch in front of the large TV screen, listlessly watching as it played a happy movie whose message broke through to nobody.