Chapter 41: The Popcorn Displacement Law

It was late summer, and the two-week overseas location shoot had finally come to an end.

The air conditioning at Los Angeles International Airport did nothing to dissipate the irritation brought on by the delay announcements. Krystal Jung pulled the brim of her baseball cap down, nearly obscuring half her face, and leaned against a bench in the lounge to catch up on sleep. The wailing of an infant nearby was filtered into a dull, humming drone by her noise-canceling headphones.

Diagonally across from her, Park Hyung-sik was scrolling through a compilation of comedy clips, while Kim Ji-won held the latest issue of *VOGUE*, her fingertips gently tracing the images of haute couture gowns.

The delay announcement at LAX shifted into the welcoming broadcast of Incheon International Airport in Seoul. Krystal rubbed her arms and went to collect her luggage; the sound of rollers on the conveyor belt blended with the audio from a Jeju Island promotional video playing overhead:

"The thousand-year-old snow atop Hallasan Mountain is the holiest crown of Jeju Island—"

The clear, gentle male voice washed over the crowd, and her hand on the suitcase handle froze.

"That voice-over sounds familiar."

Kim Ji-won slid her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and looked up at the promotional video looping on the hanging LCD screen. In a close-up of a Jeju Island *haenyeo* (female diver) with skin etched by wrinkles, Kang Jae-hoon’s voice-over turned as coarse as sandpaper:

"In the grandmother's basket, fifty years of wind, waves, and tides have settled—"

"Mr. Kang’s business scope is truly broad."

Park Hyung-sik and Kim Ji-won looked up in unison: "Haven't seen him in a few days, and now he's a tourism ambassador."

Flashbulbs suddenly erupted at the arrivals gate like a torrential downpour. Lee Min-ho had just stepped out of the gate and was immediately swamped by a swarm of reporters with their long lenses and microphones. Krystal seized the moment to drag her suitcase toward the parking lot, the rich, mellow resonance of Kang Jae-hoon’s voice from the promo still lingering in her ears:

"Seongsan Ilchulbong Peak will use its solidified volcanic veins to carve out your own exclusive memories of the climb—"

The suitcase wheels caught on a seam in the rubber floor mat, and she stumbled, only to be steadied by Kim Ji-won.

"Is Krystal's sense of balance off today?"

"Jet lag."

Krystal steadied her breathing, her gaze sweeping past the electronic screen hanging from the dome.

Park Hyung-sik sauntered over. "The director said we have a day off. Should we organize a group outing to see a movie tonight?"

"Watch what?" Kim Ji-won turned to look at him.

"*Despicable Me 2*, dubbed by Jae-hoon hyung. It premieres today."

"Is he going?"

"Who?"

Kim Ji-won gestured toward the hanging screen, where the Jeju Island promo was now showing the citrus fields of Seogwipo.

Park Hyung-sik realized: "Jae-hoon hyung is the one who invited me!"

"Then I'm in."

Kim Ji-won turned to Krystal, who was listening intently. "Krystal, you coming?"

"Cartoons are so boring," Krystal pouted.

"Just come keep me company. You wouldn't want rumors spreading that Krystal doesn't get along with the cast, would you?"

Krystal was silent for two seconds before suddenly dragging her suitcase toward the exit. "Let's be clear, I'm just afraid of being written about in the tabloids."

Kim Ji-won jogged after her, pulling her own luggage. "Yes! Our Krystal is the most loyal—"

Park Hyung-sik shouted at their retreating backs: "See you at the Apgujeong CGV at eight-thirty!"

"So noisy!"

The airport glass reflected her flushed earlobes. The narration about the Jeju citrus fields drifted over from the distant security checkpoint:

"In Seogwipo..."

The heatwave of late August melted the second half of the sentence away.

As dusk fell, Kang Jae-hoon stood outside the Apgujeong CGV theater waiting. The neon lights cast a fantastical halo over the giant eyes on his Minion T-shirt. Passersby frequently glanced his way, forcing him to lower his cap.

The plastic bag in his hand rustled in the night breeze. The oranges brought back from Jeju Island had a greenish luster—the sweet ones were left for Lee Sung-kyung, and what remained were the early-ripening varieties, sour enough to make one squint.

8:05 PM.

Three shadowy figures wrapped in masks approached, looking like moving human mosaics.

"Jae-hoon hyung is so handsome he could play a vampire!" Park Hyung-sik opened his arms to pounce.

Kang Jae-hoon laughed and shoved the bag of oranges into his arms. "The Los Angeles sun certainly turned you into a Black Knight."

Kim Ji-won appraised his Minion T-shirt: "Mr. Kang’s taste in casual wear is... uh... quite childlike?"

"A gift from a sponsor." He pulled an orange from the bag and handed it over. "Jeju specialty."

"Thanks."

When Kang Jae-hoon turned toward Krystal, she was looking down, kicking at the seams of the floor tiles as if she could trace the Seoul subway map from them.

"Jeju orange, want to try one?"

He held it out to her; the plastic bag brushed against the back of her hand in the wind.

"Is it sour?" Krystal heard herself ask a stupid question.

"Since they're early-ripening fruit, the tartness is more pronounced."

Kim Ji-won squeezed between them: "Krystal doesn't like orang—"

Krystal suddenly snatched the orange and turned away, walking off. "I suddenly feel like eating one."

Kang Jae-hoon stood stunned, watching her back, before being distracted by Park Hyung-sik talking about funny incidents on the LA set.

Kim Ji-won jogged to catch up to Krystal, her heels clicking out a rapid rhythm. "Why did you suddenly want to eat it?"

"Can't I just feel like eating it?"

"I think you just couldn't bear to make someone pull their hand back, right?"

Krystal stopped abruptly. "Unnie."

"Yeah?"

"Did you know my father runs a boxing gym?"

Kim Ji-won: "???"

The sickly sweet smell of caramel popcorn mixed with the cold air rushed toward them. A clerk in a striped apron pointed at the billboard, recommending enthusiastically: "Customer-nim, the couples' combo even comes with a limited-edition Minion keychain!"

Krystal stared at her toes, pretending not to hear. Kim Ji-won suddenly linked her arm. "Should we count the four of us as two couples?"

Kang Jae-hoon stroked his chin, studying the combo menu.

"But the four of us are actually..."

"Hyung-sik and I are one pair," Kim Ji-won said, pushing Krystal forward. "You two are the other pair."

Krystal let out a muffled protest through her mask: "Are you crazy?"

The clerk looked back and forth between the four of them. "Customer-nim, there are only four keychains left. It’s not too late to buy now."

Kang Jae-hoon nodded as if remembering something: "Then let’s get the couples' combo. Sung-kyung likes Minions quite a bit."

The air froze for two seconds. Three pairs of eyes shot toward him at once.

"Sung-kyung is...?" Kim Ji-won asked, drawing out the end of the sentence.

"My roommate."

"A female roommate?" Park Hyung-sik pressed, as if discovering a new continent.

"Yeah."

Kim Ji-won raised an eyebrow: "Are there still girls in Seoul willing to share an apartment with a man?"

"We're in the same university year, known each other for five years."

Krystal suddenly slapped her credit card onto the glass counter with a crisp sound. "I want to buy separately."

The cashier scanned between Kang Jae-hoon and Krystal: "The single combo doesn't come with souvenirs."

"My place has a keypad lock; I don't need a keychain."

Kang Jae-hoon took out his wallet to find loose change: "Actually, saving two thousand won could buy an extra bag of cat treats..."

"Single combo." Krystal stared at the red dot of the cashier's scanner, repeating herself.

"Please wait a moment."

Park Hyung-sik suddenly hooked his arm around Kang Jae-hoon’s shoulder: "What does your roommate look like? Like Kim Tae-hee or Han Ga-in?"

"She looks like a normal person."

"Do you have a photo?"

"Let me look."

Kang Jae-hoon pulled out his phone to flip through his gallery, and Kim Ji-won curiously stretched her neck over to look.

A moment later, the screen froze on a photo of Lee Sung-kyung wearing a birthday hat, pouting as she blew out candles.

"Your roommate..." Park Hyung-sik scratched his nose, carefully choosing his words. "Is quite... approachable?"

"Where do you see 'approachable'?"

"Uh, her face?"

"I'll introduce you sometime."

"How much longer?" Krystal suddenly tapped her knuckles against the glass display case.

"Almost done."

The cashier finished scanning the last single combo: "Would the customer like to add wet wipes? Popcorn oil stains are hard to wash off."

"No need."

After buying the combos, Kim Ji-won dragged Krystal by the wrist toward the restroom. The mirror lights stretched their shadows thin. As the soap suds slid between her fingers, Kim Ji-won suddenly spoke:

"That roommate of his looks like a soldier who just finished her service."

Krystal flicked the water off her hands: "So?"

Kim Ji-won pulled a paper towel: "Five years! Even my grandmother, watching daily dramas, couldn't wait for such a long-standing, stagnant 'almost-relationship.' It means they aren't each other's type at all."

"Are you done?"

"Wanna bet 50,000 won? Mr. Kang doesn't even know his roommate's menstrual cycle."

"Boring."

"Fine." Kim Ji-won pulled out her lip balm and applied it slowly. "When the movie ends, I'll tell Mr. Kang that someone has been to every one of his plays..."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"CGV reminds you, the 20:30 screening of *Despicable Me 2* is about to begin ticket checking—"

The theater's notification chime sounded abruptly. Kim Ji-won’s lip balm was still hovering near her mouth, but Krystal had already bolted out the restroom door.

"Why is she running, honestly..."

Because it was a premiere screening, the four seats were not in a row. But as an insider, Kang Jae-hoon was still able to get tickets for the best viewing positions.

[PS: According to a survey by the American Motion Picture Association—a horizontal viewing angle of greater than 36 degrees and a vertical angle of less than 35 degrees constitute the theater's "emperor seats": rows 5-6 in small halls; rows 9-10 in large halls; row 7 in IMAX halls.]

The aisle was only wide enough to pass sideways. Kim Ji-won stopped in the seventh-row aisle and gave Park Hyung-sik a look: "Row 7, seats 8 and 9; row 9, seats 9 and 10... Oh, I'm nearsighted, I have to sit in the front."

"What a coincidence, my astigmatism is also severe."

Krystal stood frozen in the aisle, clutching her crumpled ticket for seat 10, row 9. As she watched the two of them squeeze into seats 8 and 9 of row 7, she suddenly remembered the line from the Jeju promo: "Every footprint has its destination."

A stranger behind her coughed impatiently. Kang Jae-hoon held up the popcorn bucket and turned sideways to let them pass. "Shall we sit in the back row?"

"Hmm..." Krystal lowered her lashes and slowly shuffled into her seat behind him.

When the theater lights suddenly went out, the sound of the screen advertisements instantly engulfed the space. Krystal’s right hand hovered over the caramel popcorn bucket, her fingertips hovering near the plastic edge, until the third car commercial began before she finally reached in.

Kang Jae-hoon reached in at the exact same moment.

"Sorry." He pulled his hand back as if shocked, rubbing it against his jeans. "I thought this was mine."

"It's, it's fine."

Krystal unconsciously rubbed her knuckles, grateful that the darkness hid her burning ears. When the movie started, Kang Jae-hoon suddenly realized—the bucket that should have been his was currently held in her lap.

He turned to ask, but found Krystal sitting upright, staring at the screen. The blue light of the screen played across her profile; the cool tones of the arctic glaciers made her jawline look exceptionally sharp. Her eyelashes fluttered with the vibrations of the subwoofer, casting a fine, grid-like shadow on her under-eye area. The moment she bit down on the straw with her teeth, his gaze was uncontrollably fixed on that cherry-pink hue.

Feeling Kang Jae-hoon's gaze, Krystal’s left index finger began picking at the leather seam of the armrest, her nails creating a faint scratching sound against the synthetic leather. When Gru fell from the sky in a fairy dress, she finally used the opportunity of laughing out loud to relax her shoulders and neck.

Confirming through her peripheral vision that Kang Jae-hoon was focused on the screen, she finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.

A secret crush is like the fleeting lens flare in a movie theater—illuminating a private thought only to be quickly extinguished by the advancing plot.

Kang Jae-hoon stared at the scene on the screen where the Gru he dubbed confronted Margo, but his mind was completely back in the recording studio.

"Don't you think this vocal processing was too deliberate?" He suddenly leaned in, his warm breath brushing against Krystal’s ear. "Especially the line 'Love makes people into fools,' it feels like it carries the shadow of Mr. Hwang Jung-min."

Krystal instantly stiffened like a marble statue in a museum, her nails digging deeply into the armrest. She stared at Gru's exaggerated expression on the screen, but couldn't even hear the background music of the Mexican restaurant clearly.

"Hmm... maybe it's an issue with the filler words?"

"As expected, I'm still inexperienced." Kang Jae-hoon rubbed the edge of his phone in annoyance, the blue light of his memo app reflecting on his furrowed brows. "Next time I dub, I must experience life in advance."

Krystal quietly exhaled, only then realizing her back was already damp with a light sweat. When the screen switched to a bright sky scene, she turned her head, taking advantage of the light change, and caught a glimpse of Kang Jae-hoon’s profile as he took notes—he looked so much like the upperclassman who always sat in the library during their Hanlim Arts High School days.

Her nails scraped the leather of the armrest for the third time, and she finally gathered the courage to speak:

"Actually, the one you dubbed..."

Before she could finish, the sound effect of a roaring airplane drowned her out. Kang Jae-hoon turned, puzzled. Krystal was forced to raise her voice: "Actually, the one you dubbed—"

"What?"

"You dubbed..." Krystal’s nails dug into the armrest. "The orange you dubbed is quite sour!"

Orange?

Kang Jae-hoon was stunned for two seconds, his gaze drifting toward the peeled orange on the armrest. "This batch is indeed an early-ripening product. Maybe mix it with the popcorn? To neutralize the taste."

Krystal did as he said, grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it into her mouth. "The taste..."

"How is it?"

"Even weirder."

"Then don't eat it." As he spoke, Kang Jae-hoon reached to throw her half-eaten sour orange into the plastic bag.

"No."

Krystal grabbed it, stuffing all the sour orange segments into her mouth. The sourness made her temples throb. "It, it helps me stay awake."

Kang Jae-hoon frowned, watching the slight twitch in the corner of her mouth. "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah."

Just as Kang Jae-hoon’s attention was drawn to the rocket launch on the screen, Krystal suddenly clutched her forehead. "The air conditioning is too cold..."

Taking advantage of the motion to reach for her bag, she quickly spat the chewed-up orange pulp into an empty wet-wipe bag, the sourness so intense it made the tip of her tongue curl into a question mark.

Krystal grabbed her soda and took a sharp gulp; the carbonated bubbles exploded in her mouth, the tartness mixing with a sharp sting that shot up into her nasal cavity.

"If you're cold, should we leave early? Don't want you to catch a cold."

The screen was currently playing the scene where Gru and Lucy jump onto the rocket, the explosion effects making the seats tremble.

"It’s almost over, right?" Kang Jae-hoon looked down at his phone for the time. "Ten minutes left."

"I'll stick it out for a bit longer."

"But if you have a headache, it will affect your filming..."

The soda cup instantly dented in Krystal’s palm—so that’s what he was worried about!

Kang Jae-hoon’s eyes remained glued to the explosion effects on the screen, completely oblivious to the sudden drop in her temperature.

When the house lights came up, Kim Ji-won had just stood up and saw Krystal bolting toward the exit. "Why is our Krystal’s complexion even greener than those Jeju oranges?"

"Frozen."

Park Hyung-sik watched Krystal’s agitated back. "Is Krystal angry?"

"Is she?" Kang Jae-hoon looked blankly toward the fire exit where Krystal had disappeared, scratching his head. "She said she was frozen."

Kim Ji-won suddenly sneered: "I bet Krystal will have hammered two pillows to death tonight."

"Why two?"

"The first one is for being angry that Mr. Kang is a blockhead—" Kim Ji-won paced, counting on her fingers, "—the second is for being angry at herself for being so hopeless."

Kang Jae-hoon’s eyebrows twisted into question marks: "What hopeless?"

Park Hyung-sik leaned in, holding the popcorn: "Hyung, you weren't this blockheaded when you were praising Sung-kyung-ssi."

"Sung-kyung really is great."

Kim Ji-won rolled her eyes: "I suggest you bring Sung-kyung-ssi to visit the set next time."

The fire exit door suddenly creaked open. Krystal’s shadow was stretched thin by the hallway lights. "Are you coming or not?"

"Shall I drive you?"

"My manager is here."

"Oh..."

As the car window went up, Kim Ji-won’s Kakao notification sounded in the car—

Kang Jae-hoon had sent a message: [If Krystal hates oranges, should I bring sweet persimmons next time?]

Kim Ji-won handed the phone to Krystal. Krystal took one look and turned the phone face down on her lap.

The night air ground the neon lights of Seoul into the car window. As the van drove past the giant CGV poster, the end-credits song of *Despicable Me 2* drifted out from the theater:

"Happy—"

She reached up to roll down the window, and the night breeze poured in, cutting off the lyrics.