The Double

𝒯𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎-𝒯𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒

The theater is within walking distance of the hotel, and I leave a little bit early to take in the sun on my way there. It's a beautiful day, with a sky blue enough to be in postcards.

It takes my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim theater lobby after the summer's bone-white gleam. I've been here before, but even if I hadn't, it's exactly what you'd expect a theater to look like, with dark wood, red carpeting, and gilt fixtures. Ira set me up with a great ticket in the middle of the orchestra section and strict instructions to keep on the fake eyeglasses she's provided. An usher hands me a program as I make my way to red velvet seat and I tilt the booklet at an awkward angle to catch enough light to rad before the play starts. I've read the script so I skip the synopsis to spend an extra minute checking the bios. Taehyung's wearing a black collared shirt and a huge grin, while Duna has a sly expression and her hair tumbling around her shoulders.

The seats fill up rapidly, and after the warnings to turn off phones and that filming is prohibited, followed by the Indigenous land acknowledgement, the lights dim and the curtain rises to thunderous applause.

The first act takes place in a restaurant, with white draped tables and black cane-backed chairs. Duna appears wearing a blue dress with a tight waist, and her waved hair makes her look like a 1970s pinup. She is perfection as she moves around the chairs. Even silent, she manages to keep my attention with her sheer presence.

Then Taehyung comes onto the stage. I do my best to not stare at him, but it's like trying to avoid gazing at the sun during an eclipse. I know I shouldn't and that it will be bad for me, but I can't resist a little peek because surely that can't do any damage.

He's dressed in a dark-gray suit, and they've styled his hair to reveal his face instead of his usual tousled look. When he tugs on the bottom of the vest, I add it immediately to the hot-things-hot-men-do list, which I fully recognize is a hot-things-Taehyung-does list.

Together, the two of them weave a story with more than their words. Their every action adds layers, I watch with avid eyes as they build their relationship around a multitude of secrets—his upcoming secret mission in Southeast Asia, her absent and despised fiancé.

Before the intermission, their chemistry has become tangible thing, drawing in the audience. Duna-as-Miso is powerfully attracted to Taehyung-as-Johnny, although she knows he's hiding something from her. Johnny feels the same and is finding it difficult to resist her. I watch him, barely breathing, as Miso reaches out to touch his lapel and he moves from her with a quick step to lean against the wall.

Then the lights come up and the crowd relaxes in their seats with a collective sigh. The people around me file out in search of wine and washrooms, and I check my phone to distract myself from visions of a gray-suited Taehyung dancing in my eyes.

There's a text from Ira. Change to tonight's event. Attending children's hospital for a meet-and-greet before gala. Leave one hour early.

Got it, I send back. Thanks for the tickets, the seat is great.

Silence. I'm left with the uncomfortable sense that I've offended her, even over text. I don't see how—I've been faithful about doing my best, which I thought made her life easier. I'll try to do better; that might help soften her.

The woman beside me sits back down with a sippy cup of white wine and turns to her friend, who is also holding a clear lidded plastic cup. They're loud enough that I suspect those arent'y the first they've had.

"Beautiful story," says the one next to me as she adjusts her polo shirt.

"A bit unrealistic." Her friend downs at least a third of the glass in a gulp. "All the Asians were put in camps during the war, so there's no way they could volunteer to fight."