Summer 2013

Jong Kook is parked comfortably in the First Class Lounge at JFK airport in New York. His legs are stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, his head leaned back and eyes closed as he listens to the music pumping through his headphones. His hat is pulled low over his eyes, though he doesn’t expect to be recognized, much less disturbed, in the nearly empty lounge.

There are a couple of business men having a low-voiced discussion at a table a couple feet away. The rest of the scattered tables are empty, a young woman wiping each of them down methodically. Across the room from his own row of chairs is another lined against the opposite wall. Two men sit at the far end, near the door, engaged in what appears to be a heated discussion with a harried looking woman who is trying to keep a grip on an over-excited toddler. An enormous car seat sits on the ground between them. A man and woman are standing at the small cafe-style counter, chit chatting as they wait for their coffees.

It’s quiet in the lounge, and even though he’s been on top of the world lately, Jong Kook is grateful for the lack of disruptions to his thoughts. Things have been going great recently. The appearances associated with his seventh album have been well-received and he was recently approached to contribute a song to a drama soundtrack. He’s never been happier on Running Man and Escape Crisis is another venue to flex his MC muscles. There have been some physical setbacks due to his strenuous and active schedule, but nothing slowing him down in a major way.

Everyone he encounters recently comments on his drive, his upbeat mood, and his seemingly endless energy. He feels as though he’s only getting better with age. Much to the surprise of his friends, this year’s birthday passed without incident, no one needing to prop him up through maudlin beer tears. He invited his closest friends to a private room at his favorite restaurant and smiled and laughed late into the night. He’s unstoppable.

Only a few people have cast a spare thought toward what may have gotten into Jong Kook recently, but they all shrugged it off. He’s healthy. His career is going well. He’s extremely well-known throughout Asia and enjoys his fame and fans. What’s to frown about?

Jong Kook smiles slightly, thinking over the last three quarters of a year. Nothing has changed, really. Well, nothing anyone can see. But everything is different and everything is better. Byul was right - once his future was secure and he knew what was coming for him, he was able to let go of his stress and worries associated with his love life - or lack thereof. After visiting the fortune teller’s isolated house late on the evening of Haha’s wedding, Jong Kook has felt lighter than air. He threw himself into his work, singing, fan meets, and anything else that life put in front of him with renewed vigor. The universe was taking care of his main worry, freeing him up to focus on anything and everything else. He’s never been more comfortable in his own skin or more happy to just be alive.

Right now, he’s travelling back to Korea after a short vacation - some much appreciated but rarely encountered down time - in New York. He spent it doing almost nothing, just hanging out with friends and enjoying what the city had to offer, comfortable in the near-anonymity of the bustling metropolis. His flight to LA leaves in less than an hour, followed by a short layover before the long haul back to Seoul. He loves visiting the States and does so whenever he can, meeting up with friends or just exploring on his own as the opportunities arise. Running Man has had them travelling all over the other side of the world, but break through into the US doesn’t seem likely for the show just now, no matter how much the very vocal American fans clamor for a visit from the seven variety stars.

He shifts, adjusting his position and stretching his arms up over his head, trying to take advantage of the freedom to move around while he has it. First class is spacious, of course, but the confines of a plane are never especially comfortable. Her attention caught by the movement, the woman wiping the tables looks up and their eyes meet. She smiles at him shyly.

“Can I get you anything?,” she