Sunny listens with his chin planted in his hand, unironically, to the things that don't go onto DJ Kim's wiki page. It's interesting, sure, the way politics and history and religion and cultural invasion tend to roll over like vast, sleeping giants and disrupt and scatter the smaller particles. His own sense of time is vast, with human life being this fast and furious microcosm of activity. It makes him miss Korea, sometimes, in a sort of anxious way.

"You have a different view than a lot of people," he says, and of course he means Korean people. "Which isn't always the most comfortable thing. What's England like?"

His dim impression of London being rain, and scarves, and multiculturalism. He remembers, too, the things that Kasu had liked to talk about, where second generation Koreans gather densely, the supermarkets, the protestant churches with sermons in the language.