"Boys," Mr. Bang says once all shirts have been pulled down and hair slicked back. "This is Kenna Albertson, please welcome her."
In unison, they all bow and chant, "Hello, we are Bangtan Sonyeondan!"
I force a smile as the realization hits me. I'm...
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"Ken-"
"Happy Fourth of July, Kenna!" Hoseok yells as I approach the kitchen table.
"Yah! You interrupted me!" Seokjin complains.
"It's the fourth already?" I ask dumbly.
Hoseok frowns. "That's the American holiday, isn't it? The freedom one with fireworks and stuff?"
"Fuck. Shit!" I mutter. "Sorry, I gotta go!" As I run back to my office, I pull my phone out and scroll through my contacts.
How could I have forgotten? Why did I not realize how late into the year it was? That's why Tony had messaged me earlier. My heart melts a bit at how sweet he is for thinking of me. The feeling quickly fades as I stare at my phone. The contact name stares back at me as I close the door and sit down in my chair. It scolds me. Tells me to not bother the person.
I almost listen.
Before I can talk myself out of calling, I hit the green phone icon.
It rings once.
Just go to voicemail. Just go to voicemail.
It rings again.
It should be too late for him to be awake.
It rings a third time.
"Yeah."
I gulp. "Hey, dad, it's Kenna. I wasn't sure if you'd be up."
"Making your yearly call?"
I chuckle uneasily. "Uh, yeah."
A pause.
"How's Korea?" he asks, sounding uninterested.
"Good! I really like it here. Um, I- um- so how's Olive Garden?"
A snort of laughter from the receiver. "Fired."
I nod, not needing to ask why- he missed too many days again.
"So what are you doing now?" I ask.
"Currently at that one Mr. Hero we used to go to all the time."
"Oh, is that- do you like it?"
"No. The pay's shit. The coworkers are shit. The hours are shit. Just waiting for another job to open up."
I nod again, and then realize he can't see me. "You'll- you'll find something. Uhhh, why are you up so late?"
"Preparing for tomorrow."
Again, I don't need to ask what he means by that- alcohol, and plenty of it.
Uncertainty and tinge of guilt causes me to hesitate, but I ask the question. "Are you gonna go see him?"
