Jared Cahill and Wynn Kang seem like the perfect couple. Even the woman at the airline counter, where they check-in for their flight to Cambodia to pick up their future daughter who is being carried by a surrogate, seems to recognize it: "I'm so happy that marriage is legal for you guys," she says. But while Jared is already planning for their second child—half white like him, and half Korean like Wynn.

Wynn isn't ready to give up his dreams of becoming a hip-hop dancer to become "the hostage of a crying, pooping terrorist." So, he does what anyone in his position would do. He leaves Jared at the airport.

Told in alternating points of view, Wynn and Jared take readers on their messy tragi-comic journey, confronting the unresolved issues of race, identity, and privilege that haunt them, and facing the question of whether they will ever, finally, face themselves and grow up.
Told in alternating points of view, Pyun's sardonic and addictive page-turner confronts questions of race, identity, and privilege, and facing the question of whether it's ever too late to finally face yourself and grow up.