Urban God of Rebate: Infinite Returns Of Women And Powers

Kwon texted on Wednesday at six forty-three AM.

Not his usual time. Kwon’s usual time was mid-morning, after the first rehearsal block had settled and he had something specific to report. Six forty-three was before the first block started.

Sean read it at his desk.

Are you free to talk this afternoon. Not urgent. But I’d rather talk than text.

He texted back. Two PM.

Two PM, said Kwon.

Sean put his phone down and went back to the Reeve paperwork. Laurent Fischer’s team had sent the final terms at six AM as Clara had predicted. Forty-one pages. He read them with his coffee and made four notes and sent them to Clara at seven fifteen.

She replied at seven twenty-two. You’ve been awake since six.

Fischer’s team sent at six, he said.

I know, she said. I set the same alarm. A pause. Your note on clause fourteen is correct. I’ll push back before Thursday.

Let me know what they say, he said.

I will, she said.

He put his phone down.

He thought about what Kwon had noticed.

He thought about the specific quality of someone who had been in the industry for fifteen years deciding that something was worth a phone call rather than a text.

He went to his nine AM lecture.

===

Kwon called at two exactly.

”Yuna,” said Sean, before Kwon could start.

A pause.

”How did you know,” said Kwon.

”You texted before the first block,” said Sean. ”Which means you saw something at the end of Tuesday’s session that stayed with you overnight. Yuna is the most visible emotionally. If it were a technical problem you’d have handled it without calling me.”

A longer pause. ”She’s fine,” said Kwon. ”Technically she’s completely fine. The formation is clean. Her timing is exact. She knows every transition.”

”But,” said Sean.

”She cried after yesterday’s session,” said Kwon. ”Not during. After. In the changing room. Sori told me.”

”Sori told you,” said Sean.

”Sori tells me things she thinks I need to know,” said Kwon. ”She’s the one who watches. Yuna feels everything in real time. Sori processes it and decides what to do with the information.” He paused. ”She came to me because she didn’t know if it was something to be worried about.”

”Is it,” said Sean.

”I don’t know yet,” said Kwon. ”That’s why I called.” He exhaled. ”I’ve managed debut weeks for nine years. I’ve seen two kinds of crying. The kind that means something is wrong. And the kind that means the weight of the thing has finally arrived and the person is carrying it correctly and the tears are just the way the body handles that weight.”

”Which kind is this,” said Sean.

”I think it’s the second kind,” said Kwon. ”But I’m not certain. And with thirty-one days out I don’t want to be wrong about which kind it is.”

Sean looked at the window.

He thought about a voice note in a rehearsal building corridor. I’ve been carrying this for two weeks without letting myself carry it properly.

He thought about the weight of something arriving.

”Has Olivia talked to her,” he said.

”Olivia doesn’t know yet,” said Kwon. ”Sori came to me first.”

”Tell Olivia,” said Sean. ”Not as a problem to solve. Just tell her.”

A pause from Kwon. ”You think Olivia should handle it.”

”I think Olivia is the person Yuna needs,” said Sean. ”Not management. Not a plan. Her person.”

Kwon was quiet for a moment.

”Olivia has a lot on her,” said Kwon. ”Thirty-one days out.”

”I know,” said Sean. ”She can carry it.”

”You’re certain,” said Kwon.

”Yes,” said Sean. ”Tell her tonight.”

Another pause. The specific pause of someone who had managed things professionally for fifteen years recalibrating against a read that didn’t come from fifteen years of professional management.

”Alright,” said Kwon. ”Tonight.”

”And Kwon,” said Sean.

”Yeah.”

”Don’t make it a briefing,” said Sean. ”Just tell her. Like it’s something she should know, not something she needs to fix.”

Kwon held the line for a moment.

”Fifteen years,” said Kwon. ”I’ve been doing this for fifteen years and an eighteen year old is telling me how to talk to my own artist.”

”Yes,” said Sean.

”You’re not wrong,” said Kwon.

”I know,” said Sean.

The call ended.

===

Olivia texted at nine seventeen that evening.

Kwon told me.

I know, said Sean.

I’m going to see her tomorrow morning, said Olivia. Before the first block. I’m going to go early and bring food and just be there.

Good, he said.

Sean, she said.

Yeah.

Is this the part where I’m supposed to be worried, she said.

He thought about what Kwon had said. Two kinds of crying. Which kind it was.

No, he said. I think it’s the part where the weight of the thing has arrived and Yuna is carrying it correctly and she needs her person to be present.

A long pause from Olivia.

That’s what Kwon said, she said. Almost exactly.

It’s what I told him to say, Sean said.

Oh, she said. And then after a moment: Thank you for that.

Go to sleep, he said. You have an early morning.

I know, she said. Sean.

Yeah.

You said I could carry it, she said. To Kwon. You told him I could carry it.

He held his phone.

Yes, he said.

How do you know, she said.

He thought about a voice note in a rehearsal corridor. The way she’d said act normal and I did. The way she’d held the debut photograph situation for two weeks without letting it touch the formation.

Because I’ve been watching you carry things for months, he said. You carry them correctly. Every time.

The pause from Olivia was the specific kind that came when something landed that she hadn’t expected to land.

Okay, she said finally. Quietly.

Goodnight, he said.

Goodnight, she said.

—-

He texted Kwon before he turned his lamp off.

She’s going to Yuna tomorrow morning. Before the first block. With food.

Kwon replied in two minutes.

I know. She texted me. A pause. You were right. She didn’t need a briefing.

No, said Sean.

Thirty-one days, said Kwon.

Thirty-one days, said Sean.

Get some sleep, said Kwon.

Sean looked at that for a moment. Kwon had never told him to get some sleep before. It was a Makima thing. A Clara thing.

’He’s starting to think of you as one of the people he watches out for,’ he thought.

He turned off the lamp.

He thought about Yuna in a changing room after Tuesday’s session. The weight of the thing arriving. Sori watching and deciding what to do with the information.

He thought about what Olivia was going to walk into tomorrow morning.

He thought about thirty-one days.

He went to sleep.