Word count: approx. 5,118 words.

MARCH 2012

“If you make me review one more Miss A song, I swear I am going to hurt you.”

The familiar aroma of fresh ink and coffee beans had engulfed Minseok as he’d wandered into Jjang! HQ; an office the size of a shoe-box tucked into the high crevices of the Humanities block at SNU. It was, however, possibly the most efficiently-used space at the entire university; after 2 years, Minseok still couldn’t quite comprehend how they managed to fit 3 desks, numerous overflowing cabinets, a coffee-making machine (affectionately known as ‘God’), 2 printers and a pot plant inside such a small working space, but it worked as a second home.

He threw his review down onto the middle, and largest, desk in the centre of the room and Kim Jongdae looked up from his computer screen.

“Ah, the first album critique of the academic year. Brilliant!” He clapped his hands together excitedly, his wide smile showing off a perfect row of white teeth despite his caffeine addiction. “In that case, you’re going to love what I have lined up for you next! Actually, knowing you, you probably won’t…” his voice trailed off.

Minseok ignored the jibe. “Hit me with it.”

Jongdae paused for dramatic effect, peering over the thick rims of his glasses as though expecting Minseok to be on the edge of his seat in anticipation. He wasn’t.

He sighed and continued. “Lu Han is coming to SNU.”

“What?” He knew that name. Everybody knew that name. “You mean the Chinese guy? Why?”

“Why? Do you not read the newspapers?”

He reached under his desk and pulled out a handful of ruffled papers, slapping them down onto the dark wood. Minseok reluctantly through them, pausing only to read the ominous headlines:

CHINA’S FALLEN HALLYU STAR

FROM BABYFACE TO BOOZIE: THE DEMISE OF THE LITTLE DEER

LU HAN: DIGNITY JUSEYO?

Underneath, the pages were littered with pictures of Lu Han snapped in various notorious circumstances; falling out of nightclubs in Shanghai, blowing cigarette smoke into the paparazzi’s camera lens, girls with impossibly-tight dresses fawning over him while he swigged from a hip flask after an interview in Busan. Then there was the mention of the drug scandal in Osaka; complete with a questionable photo of him snorting a row of off a dancer’s stomach – though the police later concluded that the picture and story were entirely fabricated. One of the captions read: What happened to our doe-eyed prodigy?

Minseok rolled his eyes. “Trust you to collect tabloids. These headlines are just embarrassing…”

“The point is,” said Jongdae as he snatched the papers back. “Lu Han is trying to clean up his image, and I reckon the company thinks that being a student here will do just that. This is a top-notch university, after all. And you,” he poked Minseok teasingly in the chest, “get to be the lucky soul that unearths the whole story!”

“Why me, though?” Minseok huffed. “What about Chanyeol? Can the guy even speak Korean?”

“Of course he can, he’s managed by SME.” Jongdae shot him a look. “Seriously, where have you been the last 3 years?”

“I just never paid much attention to him, that’s all.”

“Well, now’s the time to start. He’s coming here at 9.” He drained his mug with a satisfied ahhh.

“Tonight?” Minseok looked at his watch. It was already 4 PM. “That’s a bit short notice, don’t you think? What if I had plans?”

“What plans? Dude, I don’t think you’re getting this – it’s Lu Han.” Jongdae jumped up out of his chair and leaned forward. “People are gonna be snapping this issue up like soup cans before an earthquake. You’re not missing this. He’s too valuable to us.”

Minseok raised an eyebrow. “Valuable? Are you serious? The kid prances around with his shirt off and grinds against the camera to the sounds of a dial-up modem in a washing machine. Hell, he doesn’t even sing live anymore. What’s so valuable about that?”

“Try asking the millions of screaming, hormonal teenage girls who want to dry-hump his existence. Then you might get an idea. Besides, he ain’t a kid; he’s your age.” Jongdae walked over and ruffled Minseok’s hair affectionately. “Green isn’t your colour, hyung.” 

“Wait, he’s turning 22 this year? For real?” But Jongdae had already walked through the door, waving his hand nonchalantly in the air as he left. “No way…”

One of the newspaper sheets remained stuck to the desk, caught on a coffee ring. He stared down at the main picture that loomed up at him – Lu Han biting his lip seductively with those twinkling doe-eyes lined thick with kohl.

Minseok shook his head and pushed it away. “There’s still no way you’re turning 22.”

*

The library was surprisingly busy for the first week of the semester. Bustling, eager bodies weaved their way between the towering stacks with bulging backpacks and confused freshman clotted the pathways as they wailed over complicated maps of the campus and instructions of the library’s computer system. They always travelled in herds which meant it generally took twice, maybe even three-times, as long to get anywhere. The entrance was the worst – half of the fresher population could never scan their student cards correctly and were permanently in a fluster, holding up the rest of the student masses. You couldn’t blame them, though, but the same ritual happened every year.

When Minseok finally made it inside the building, clutching to the straps of his pack so he didn’t get dragged away with the crowd, he headed for the 4^th floor – home to the music and composition section. Here, it was much quieter with far less student bodies to contend with. He moved across the floor to the far side where the musical theory textbooks were kept. Pulling his bag around to his front, he rooted inside for his 3^rd year reading list and then used his fingers to trace along the book spines.

Until a tall figure appeared at his side and started thrashing his shoulder violently with a hardback.

“Ow!” Minseok turned and threw up his arms until the abuser stopped. “Yah! What are you playing at?”

It was none other than Chanyeol, stood menacingly with a hard copy of Society in Action gripped tightly between his palms.

“You honestly don’t know?” he growled, and then he returned to hitting Minseok repeatedly.

“Alright, alright! Calm down!” Minseok batted him away, checking over his shoulder and smiling innocently at the librarian who sauntered curiously past. “Let me guess: you’re mad about the Lu Han thing, aren’t you?” 

Chanyeol reluctantly tucked the book under his arm and pouted. “Damn right I am! How come you get to meet him and I don’t?”

“Well, for a start, you’re the photographer and I’m the one who usually does the interviews.” Minseok returned to scanning the shelves. “Secondly, you’d probably swamp the poor kid or faint or something else embarrassing if we left you two in a room together. Third-“

“Okay, I get it. You can stop now.” Chanyeol sighed and leant against the stack. “It’s still unfair, though. Hey!” He perked up again and playfully punched Minseok in the arm which made him wince. “You’re gonna need photos, right? For the issue? And who did you just say is in charge of photography…?” He batted his eyelashes hopefully, pointing to his chest.

“Yeollie, if Jongdae didn’t mention anything to you about it then I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Maybe he’s got other plans for the photos? I don’t know.” Minseok shrugged. “To be honest, the first I heard of all this was about an hour ago so I have no idea what’s going on. I’m still pretty sceptical.”

“Sceptical? Why?” asked Chanyeol, pulling at the strings of his hoody.

“I may not be his biggest fan, but I know Lu Han’s a pretty big deal. So why he’d want his story in a small-time student music mag, I have no idea. Why not the university newspaper? It’s read by almost everyone is Seoul.” Minseok sighed. “It just doesn’t make sense. I still don’t know what I’m going to ask him – if he turns up at all. I mean, all people are going to want to read about is his crazy, superstar lifestyle. Does anyone actually give a crap about his music anymore?”

“Probably not, but at least you get to interview someone famous! What time’s the interview?”

Minseok pushed him playfully. “Nice try! As if I’d want you hiding outside with your fancy camera at the ready like some crazy sasaeng fan!”

Chanyeol laughed and clapped him on the back. “Ah, fine then. Be like that. You better tell me all about it when you’re done! You’re such a lucky bastard. See you tomorrow, hyung!”

He scooted past, waving his long limbs and the textbook in the air as he skipped away, almost knocking down the wandering librarian.

Minseok stole another glance at his watch. 4 hours to go.

*

Later he would tell people that he wasn’t nervous; that meeting a real Hallyu star in the flesh, no matter how notorious, wasn’t so much of a big deal.

But that was a lie .

A colossal lie.

In fact, he would never forget that night. Not even when he tried.

*

20:42

Minseok made sure he arrived at the office a little early. Between finding the textbooks he needed, returning to his apartment, eating, showering and coming back into the university again after throwing on some clean clothes, he hadn’t had much time to figure out his interview questions. He was running low on time and it was getting him a little ruffled.

He didn’t want to admit it, but there was a lot of pressure on his shoulders. This interview would really help out the magazine on an epic scale which could result in a tonne of useful perks, like more funding and a bigger office – both of which they desperately needed if they wanted the publication to grow. Minseok had big dreams for the music scene at the university, too, which Lu Han, of all people, could genuinely become the catalyst for. All he had to do was to nail this interview and try and pull a few strings of his own.

Simple.

21:02

He’d had taken to staring at the wall clock for the last few minutes, occasionally peeking at his phone to check for any missed calls or texts; anything to distract him from his jittering stomach. Any slight noise or movement in the corridor outside made his head snap up. The wait was tiresome.

21:22

There was still no sign of Lu Han after 20 minutes. Doubt began to creep into the back of his mind; perhaps the opportunity really was too good to be true. Despite this, he clung to the hope that Jongdae wasn’t having him on and that traffic was probably horrendous for some reason.

21:42

An hour of waiting later, he was about ready to give up. The only souls to pass the office door were late-night studiers and the cleaners with their deafening, industrial-sized vacuums. He’d even checked the internet to make sure Lu Han really was becoming a student at SNU; it turned out it was all over the news. He couldn’t see how he didn’t pick up on that before.

In the end, he threw in the towel and decided to leave on a heavy heart. He packed up his things, shut down the computer and locked the door behind him as he left, deflated.

But as he exited the building into the cool night air, his phone began to vibrate from inside his trousers. He pulled it out and looked at the screen.

“Withheld?” he mumbled to himself. Normally he didn’t answer withheld numbers in case the person on the other end was only trying to sell him something. But it was too late for a sales call, so he bit the bullet and answered.

“…Hello?”

“Hello? Is this…” Pause. “Minseon? Is this Minseon?”

“It’s Minseok. Kim Minseok. Who is this?”

“Oh right, Minseok. Sorry. It’s Lu Han!”

“Lu Han?” Minseok froze. How the hell did he get this number? Though, now that he thought about it, his Korean sounded a little too perfect to be true. He let out a long breath. “Did Chanyeol put you up to this? Dammit, put Chanyeol on the phone.”

“Chanyeol? Who the hell is Chanyeol? Listen, I know I’m really late, but I thought I’d ring you and let you know I’m on my way. What are you wearing?”

He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen again in disbelief for a few seconds before replying. This had to be a wind-up. “Umm…why?”

“You’ll see. See you in 10, Minseong!”

“It’s Min-” but the line went dead. “-seok,” he breathed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

He decided to walk a few paces and sit down on the concrete step further down the path, hanging his head in his hands. He found it very difficult to believe that the conversation he just had was really with the Lu Han – in fact, the possibility of it being a legitimate phone call was slim to practically none – and he couldn’t help but think that his dearest friends had an elaborate prank to answer for. But whether it was out of genuine curiosity or even a spot of hope, he chose to wait out in the cold nonetheless.

21:57

It was more like 15 minutes that had passed when a sleek, black Mercedes rolled down the street between the Humanities and Education blocks and came to stop barely metres from where Minseok sat. He stood up apprehensively, craning his neck to try and see who was inside, but the windows were out to match. He brushed the bits of gravel off his jeans and waited. Nobody came out.

But then the back window rolled down and a sandy-coloured head poked out, yelling:

“Hey! Are you coming or not?”

Minseok’s chest tightened. That was definitely Lu Han’s head, the Lu Han. And he was looking straight at him.

“Err…” was about all he could coherently come up with in that moment.

“C’mon, man, hurry up,” Lu Han moaned. “Places to go, people to see…” The window wound itself back up and his little face disappeared behind the dark glass.

Minseok managed to snap out of his trance for a few seconds to run around to the far side of the car. Fingers around the door handle, he paused to catch his bearings and take a deep breath before opening it and sliding inside as the engine roared to life and the car sped away.

“Hi! I’m Lu Han, nice to meet you,” the star said with a sincere-looking smile and a low bow of his head. “Here, take this.”

Lu Han shoved a tall glass of pale, bubbling liquid into his hand.

“Umm…thanks…” Minseok gently sniffed at it. “What is it?”

Lu Han shot him a look. “It’s champagne. Wow, you’ve seriously never had champagne before?”

“I guess not.” He took a tentative sip and felt the bubbles fizz on his tongue. It was surprisingly bitter.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry about being so late. Traffic was a er.” Lu Han gulped down a mouthful of his own glass, drinking half of it in one swallow. “That and getting ready was a complete nightmare.”

For the first time that night, Minseok drank in Lu Han’s entire ensemble: a crisp, black blazer and matching smart trousers complete with a white shirt ed until half-way down, showcasing his bare, pale chest. His hair was styled into a large, blonde quiff and his eyes were, typically, heavily coated with eyeliner and what looked like red body glitter. 

He looked something like a mash-up of James Bond and David Bowie.

“Is that…actual glitter?” Minseok couldn’t help but stare at his somewhat garish choice of makeup.

Lu Han wiggled his eyebrows and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “You want some?”

“No! No, I’m alright.”

Lu Han’s eyes raked him up and down. “You went dark and simple, good job. We’re lucky – you should get in wearing that.”

Minseok looked down at his own attire; simple black t-shirt, dark jeans and the shoes he wore practically every day. It didn’t exactly scream Hollywood.

Something suddenly occurred to him. “Hang on; I should get in where? Where are we going?” He stared out of the window in the hopes that the outside world held all the answers but he couldn’t tell where they were heading. “You’re here for the interview, right? For Jjang! magazine?”

“Yeah, but who wants to hold up in some office when we can go out and have some real fun?” He drained his glass and pulled open the divider between their seats, revealing an entire bottle resting on ice. He poured himself another. “Tonight’s gonna be a blast, you wait and see, Sungmeon. Top up?”

“Minseok. And, um, sure...” He held his glass out and watched as the golden liquid rose almost to the top.

“Minseok! Of course, my bad. I’m so ty with names. Cheers!”

Lu Han leaned forward and clinked their glasses together with a smile that beamed.

“You still didn’t answer my question. Where are we going?” It occurred to him that he may or may not have just been kidnapped by a famous superstar and he didn’t quite know how he felt about that.

“I’m taking you to a place in Hongdae, this new club that’s opened up. They’re having a ‘back-to-school’ theme for the opening night, which might explain this.” He plucked at his blazer. “Don’t worry, it’s a classy event. I was invited to go along as a special guest so I put your name on the guest list. Your actual name, don’t worry! I have it written down somewhere…” He patted aimlessly at his numerous pockets.

Minseok’s stomach twisted. “A club? You mean, full-on nightclub?”

Lu Han nodded. “Sure. Why, is that a problem?”

“It’s just…not usually my scene,” he explained as gently as he could. The last thing he wanted to do was offend anyone.

“Have you been clubbing before?”

Minseok hesitated and then slowly shook his head.

“Then you have no idea what you’re missing!” Lu Han tapped a hand against his knee. “Now drink up!”

He pushed at the bottom of Minseok’s glass up until it reached his lips and he gulped it down as ordered.

This was not the night he expected.

*

22:37

The car journey was something of a blur, but he was relatively certain he remained composed throughout. It turned out that Lu Han was definitely a talker and enjoyed the sound of his own voice which, even Minseok had to admit, sounded rather melodic after a few glasses of champagne. In fact, by the time they pulled up near the club, Minseok had almost forgotten the reason why he was there at all.

As the car slowed, Lu Han turned to him. “The club is just up the street. I think it’s called…Enigma? Or something? Some abstract English word like the rest of them. Stick close to me, okay?” And he winked.

Minseok’s passenger door opened and a tall, suited man with arms the size of small tree trunks ushered him outside. Standing up, he made to grab his backpack but Lu Han was suddenly at his side with a small hand resting on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that, just grab your wallet. The car will come and pick us up at the end.”

“When’s the end?” Minseok asked, although he felt somewhat stupid afterwards.

“When I say it is. Come on.” Lu Han reached down and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers and Minseok was shocked by the sudden closeness, though he couldn’t deny that his heart skipped when their skin touched. Lu Han was a celebrity, after all.

The car pulled away from the curb and they set off down the path, hand-in-hand, flanked by the burly stranger who Minseok presumed, and prayed, was Lu Han’s bodyguard.  The queue for the club s down the street for an impossible length despite the night being young, although Minseok couldn’t be entirely sure of that given his lack of experience with those kind of things. He immediately felt under-dressed as they passed glittering bodies in towering high-heels and suave suits, some complete with striped ties and pigtails or even freckles painted on their cheeks. He took another look at himself as they walked, trying to pull his jeans down slightly to cover his worn-out shoes as best he could.

Lu Han nudged him with his elbow. “You’ll be just fine.”

And, strangely, he believed him.

After approaching the entrance, the bouncer shot one indifferent look at Lu Han and opened the rope barrier which led to the solid, black doors with spitting cobra handles. But as Minseok stepped forward, he held out a strong arm to block his passage.

“Name?” he boomed, eyeing Minseok’s questionable footwear.

Lu Han intercepted before he could answer, standing tall between them with determined eyes and pulling Minseok closer to his side. “He’s with me.”

To that, the bouncer merely nodded and put down his clipboard, removing the rope once more. Behind him, Minseok could hear people whispering hastily amongst themselves; “Is that Lu Han?”, “Oh my God, I think it is!”, “Guys, look! It’s really Lu Han!”

Suddenly the entire river of people were climbing over each other to get a decent view, pulling out their iPhones and cameras and whatever other bits of technology they had in their manicured clutches. Lu Han gave a small wave to the crowd with his free hand, still grasping hold of Minseok with the other, and the two of them entered the club to a curtain of flashes and swoons.

Beyond the doors stood a grand entranceway with a black marble floor and a single elevator. Lu Han pressed the button with a ding and Minseok let out a long breath.

“Wow, that was…that was something…”

Lu Han chuckled. “Yeah? You liked that?”

“It’s a new experience, that’s for sure,” said Minseok, a finger along the luxury embossed wallpaper.

Lu Han leaned in close to his ear as the elevator arrived and uttered; “You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

*

22:45

The club itself was underground, deep in the basement. The floor to the elevator vibrated harder and harder to the bass of far-off music as it descended, finally opening to reveal the regal spectacle that was Enigma. Minseok fought the urge to cover his mouth in awe.

Dark walls dripped with velvet drapes and shone a deep indigo from the floor lights. Everything in sight was either black or a shade of purple, with the occasional dash of serpent green or even rainbow colours from the lines of cocktails being ordered at the extensive bar. What looked like hundreds of bodies swayed together to the pulsing music on the dance-floor at one side, with faces and hints of foreign tongues that proved the guests were from all over the world, not just South Korea. One waiter weaved between the guests balancing a giant bottle above his head with sparklers crackling out of the top of it.

It was, essentially, a Dionysian playground for the rich and beautiful; Lu Han being an honorary member.  

“So what do you think?” Lu Han had to shout slightly to get his voice heard over the music.

Minseok wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I…”

“I know, right? Have one of these.” He plucked a couple of glasses off a wandering waitress’ tray and handed one to Minseok. “Let’s go forget our sins and commit some new ones, reporter-boy.”

That reminded him. “Wait, I’m supposed to be asking you questions right now.” When Lu Han raised an eyebrow, he added: “If I don’t get a semi-decent interview out of this, Jongdae will kill me.”

And probably Chanyeol and the rest of the student body, he thought. Jongdae had, undoubtedly, told as many people that he knew that the magazine would be publishing an exclusive talk with the infamous Chinese superstar in their upcoming issue. He didn’t even want to think about the repercussions of it not happening.

“I promise you will get your interview, you have my word. But for now?” Lu Han tilted his head towards the rest of the club and tugged at Minseok’s hand. “Shall we?”

Minseok gazed around at the throng of intoxicated souls and then nodded, letting Lu Han lead him deep down into the rabbit hole.

*

00:17

The rest of the night melted into a concoction of blinding lights, strong cocktails and Jägermeister, which Minseok was 80% sure he never wanted to drink again, and the after-taste in the morning was destined to increase that percentage even further. The best thing was he didn’t have to pay for any of it; strangers wrapped in Armani who looked as though they were picked off the cover of Vogue insisted on flashing their cash and buying everything, which his student budget was thankful for, given the extortionate prices.

One thing was for certain; he couldn’t take his eyes of Lu Han the whole time, not even for a moment – he seemed to glow with such a confident and brilliant aura that Minseok had never witnessed before on anyone. The way he sashayed into the crowd, instantly fusing with the eager souls that crept out of the bright lights to talk to him. People wanted to be close to him, to know him, to touch him even if it meant just brushing past him for a second. And regardless of the wealthy and powerful faces that they met, he kept Minseok close to him the entire night, never letting him stray too far. He would always squeeze his hand tight and pull him back if the crowd got too much or a photographer wanted him out of a picture. Minseok shook hands with business tycoons, record label producers, musicians, actors – and every time they would look at him in confusion as if to think, “what’s so special about this guy?”, but Lu Han never seemed to think like that. “This is my friend,” he would say, pushing him forward like a shiny, limited addition he desperately wanted to flaunt. Minseok couldn’t understand it, but he gave up trying to. He had a feeling he’d never truly be able to decipher that riddle.

On the dance floor, he found himself mesmerised by Lu Han’s movements; so ethereal and nymph-like with his tiny features highlighted by dramatic makeup and the lasers that danced across his face. Girls would glide across from no-where and attempt to steal to his attention but he never took any notice. He was too busy enjoying his own little world; a lone, starry-eyed maenad. They took no notice of Minseok, but he didn’t care. He even stopped worrying about the numerous pictures that people were less-than-slyly snapping on their phones of him and Lu Han together every now and then.

He’d worry about that in the morning.

All that mattered now was Lu Han and the colourful beams that played along his smile.

*

02:09

Minseok couldn’t remember getting back into the car, but he somehow managed it with the little deer dragging his feet in tow.

He sunk down into the soft leather seats that felt like heaven, gazing dreamily out of the window as the specks of the city’s glow flew past like fireflies. His head thumped and his ears rang with a continuous whistle but all of that didn’t matter. Lu Han rested his sleepy head, eyes closed, on Minseok’s shoulders, returning their fingers to their interlocked position and resting their joined hands in his lap. It was weirdly soothing, snuggling up with something so unfamiliar in the back of a strange car, and just thinking about it made Minseok want to laugh out loud. For once in his life, things weren’t going to plan and he didn’t have control – and it felt good; great even. He hoped that feeling wouldn’t disappear with the hangover.

All too soon, the car began to slow down and it came to a sudden halt. His apartment block loomed over them in the darkness outside. Did he even tell the driver his address? He couldn’t recall it. He gently untangled himself from Lu Han’s grasp, trying not to wake him as he snored so innocently, and felt around his feet blindly for his backpack.

The cool air was more than welcome as it wafted over his hot cheeks. Digging his hands deep into his pockets, he rooted for the feel of cold metal and pulled out a set of keys – and never had keys ever looked so confusing like they did in that moment. The lock to his building might as well have been a Sudoku puzzle. It didn’t help that the floor kept moving.

A car door slammed behind him. When he looked around, Lu Han leapt forward and curled his arms tightly around Minseok’s neck.

“Okay, wow.” Minseok swayed under his weight and took a step backwards to catch his balance. “Loving the skinship, huh?”

Lu Han nodded into his shoulder and pulled away, still eagerly holding on. Minseok noticed that his eyeliner had smudged and the glitter had barely held on to his dewy skin. He used his thumb to trace under Lu Han’s eyes, tidying up the smeared black and red.

“You look a state, do you know that?”

“Well, you look drunk.”

Minseok let out a laugh. “And who’s fault’s that?” He prised Lu Han arms apart behind his head and clumsily helped him back to the rumbling car, all the while trying to remain upright himself. “Listen, I had such a crazy time tonight-”

“Do you want to know something?” Lu Han slurred.

“…You did as well?”

“Your face…” Lu Han leant against the body of the car and reached up to pinch at Minseok’s cheeks. “It’s so…round and squishy, y’know? Like a baozi…”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded. “That can be your name from now on. Baozi. I’ll never remember Seongmin…”

“It’s Minseok!” He shoved at Lu Han’s chest and he snickered mischievously.

“Exactly, Baozi! Exactly.”

As Lu Han fumbled with the door handle and went to sit back inside, Minseok let something out that had been lingering on his chest.

“You’re different.”

Lu Han turned with wide eyes. “You think so? How?”

“Just…different from what I thought you’d be like.”

Lu Han only smiled to that as he stumbled back into the leather seat and said just before he closed the car door, “You too, little bun. You too.”