Chapter 39
The Trip to California
The stylists quickly and efficiently moved in with their pre-selected airport outfits, trading out the protective salon capes for freshly steamed, custom-tailored garments. Within minutes, the boys were fully prepped. They looked effortlessly perfect—a highly calculated mix of casual, comfortable streetwear and high-end luxury that absolutely screamed untouchable idol status. They thanked their dedicated staff, grabbed their personal carry-on bags, and headed down to the private, underground garage where a massive, tinted SUV was already waiting with the engine running.
The drive to the company studio was mercifully short. Inside the heavily insulated cabin, the deep bass of a trending hip-hop track thumped quietly from the premium sound system, shielding them from the chaotic morning traffic outside. Seo-Joon stared out the darkened window, watching the rapid blur of pedestrians and towering skyscrapers pass by. A few people on the sidewalk briefly glanced at the convoy of sleek black vehicles, completely unaware that the country's biggest music sensations were sitting just inches away behind the bulletproof glass. Kim-Jo spent the entire ten minutes complaining bitterly about the lack of legroom, adjusting his long legs every thirty seconds until Lee-Dae finally threatened to throw his phone at his head.
When they arrived at the studio, they were immediately ushered through the secure, heavily guarded back entrance, seamlessly bypassing the small, dedicated crowd of fans who permanently camped out front with cameras and signs.
They walked directly into the main conference room, a sleek, glass-walled space dominated by a massive, polished oak table. Jim, their veteran manager, was already pacing at the head of the table. He was a stern-looking man in his early forties, wearing a sharp, impeccably tailored suit and holding a thick, stapled stack of printed schedules. He looked up, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses as the three boys filed into the room and took their respective seats.
"Finally," Jim said, pointedly checking his own silver watch. "You are exactly three minutes late. Sit down, we have a lot of ground to cover and a very tight window before we need to be at the private terminal."
"Three minutes is practically early for us, Jim," Kim-Jo said brightly, sliding into a plush leather chair and casually propping his chin on his hand. "Don't be so incredibly tense. You'll give yourself premature wrinkles."
Jim ignored the comment entirely, aggressively tapping the stack of papers on the table to straighten them. "Listen closely to me. This isn't just a standard stadium concert. You are performing at a private, highly exclusive birthday party for the daughter of one of the most powerful entertainment executives in Hollywood. The party is being held at a sprawling private estate in the Hollywood Hills. The guest list includes A-list actors, legendary international music producers who could skyrocket your global careers, and massive fashion moguls who are constantly looking for new brand ambassadors."
He paused, making strict eye contact with each of them to ensure they grasped the gravity of the situation. "This is a prime networking opportunity, which means I expect absolute, unwavering professionalism from the minute we land. You represent the agency, but more importantly, you represent yourselves. No spontaneous stage diving, Seo-Joon."
Seo-Joon raised both of his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "I make absolutely no promises if the crowd energy is right."
"I am completely serious," Jim continued, his sharp tone brokering zero argument. "The performance is blocked out for exactly forty-five minutes. You hit the stage at exactly nine PM, play the precise setlist we finalized yesterday without any deviations, and exit gracefully. After the performance, you will mingle with the guests for exactly one hour. Be polite, take photos with anyone who asks, charm the executives, and then the security team will quietly escort you back to the hotel."
"What about after the party?" Lee-Dae asked, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows firmly on the oak table. "We have two full days off before the flight back home, right?"
"Yes," Jim nodded, flipping to the heavily highlighted second page of the itinerary. "You have forty-eight hours of sanctioned free time. However, you will still have a security detail trailing you at a discreet distance at all times. Do not, under any circumstances, try to ditch them. Lee-Dae, I've already arranged a private, after-hours appointment for you at three high-end jewelers in Beverly Hills, exactly like you requested. The stores will be closed to the public, so you will have total, unbothered privacy to shop."
Lee-Dae smiled, a genuine, profound look of relief crossing his handsome face. "Thank you so much, Jim. I really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it," Jim said, his stern expression finally softening just a microscopic fraction. "Just make sure the wedding doesn't interfere with our upcoming European promotional tour." He quickly turned his attention back to the other two band members. "Kim-Jo, your personal stylist has already pulled private showroom options for your shopping spree on Rodeo Drive. Seo-Joon, I assume you will be doing absolutely nothing?"
"Absolutely nothing," Seo-Joon confirmed with a deep, highly satisfied nod. "I plan to order expensive room service, pull the blackout curtains shut, and stare at the ceiling of the hotel room for two straight days."
"Perfect," Jim said efficiently, gathering the scattered papers and sliding them into his sleek leather briefcase. He snapped the metal latches shut with a loud, definitive click that echoed in the quiet room. "The transport cars are ready outside. The private jet is fully fueled and waiting for us on the tarmac. Do we have any final questions before we leave?"
The three boys exchanged a quick, silent glance. The chaotic, playful energy of the morning had instantly settled into a focused, razor-sharp professional calm. They knew exactly how to handle the immense pressure, the exhausting travel, and the sky-high expectations. It was what they did best.
"No questions," Lee-Dae said decisively, standing up and sharply adjusting the collar of his designer jacket. "Let's go to California."