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“Wait.” Ana reaches out and grabs the phone. Dongha looks elated as her hand brushes his. She zooms into the note at a logo at the top of the pad. “Isn’t that…”

She trails off as I lean in to see too. And all the air slams out of my lungs. It’s David’s salon logo.

Iwalk with purpose, gripping my award so hard my hand hurts. I know where David is right now. There are green rooms down the hall for the musical acts to change and freshen up during the show.

He’s supposed to be doing hair for Kastor’s performance.

HyeriTopAnti can’t be David. He’s always been there for me, comforted me when things are really bad. He’s one of the few people I’ve let see me at my lowest.

That whole time, was he just pretending? Was he actually happy to see me so depressed? Did he collect secrets about me to warp into twisted versions of the truth and post for the world to see?

“It’s not him,” I whisper.

“It could be anyone,” Ana replies even though I wasn’t talking to her. “When you’re in the public eye like us, anyone around us could have an agenda.”

I close my eyes because they’re starting to burn. She’s right, I know she is. But still, it can’t be David. I don’t know what I’d do if it was him.

I find the dressing room with Kastor’s group name on the outside.

Their performance was in the first half of the show, but some of them might still be inside. I wonder if I could still confront David with witnesses.

They’re not there. And neither is David. The room is empty except for Jeongho, who is packing away the supplies.

A part of me is relieved David isn’t here. But a part of me flares with anxiety. Where is he? Is he sneaking around to find more dirt on me?

“Have you seen David?” I ask.

“Nope.” Jeongho glances up, then does a double take, eyes widening. And I realize he’s not looking at me but behind me. At Ana.

“You’re here,” he breathes out. The expression on his face looks a bit too bright, a bit too manic. It’s an expression I’ve seen before. A look of obsession.

“Ah, yes, are you a fan?” Ana says politely. She’s still glancing around the room. Like maybe there will be a clue.

But I’m focused on Jeongho now. He steps forward, still clutching a curling iron.

I instinctively put myself between him and Ana. And when his lips twist into anger, I’m sure I’m right.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I say. “HyeriTopAnti. You’re the one who stole the pill bottle.”

I hear Ana’s sharp intake behind me.

Jeongho sighs, his eyes narrowing as he glares at me. He’s wielding the curling iron like a weapon now. “So what? You can’t prove it.”

“Wait, I’m confused, I thought it was David,” Ana says behind me.

“This is his assistant,” I explain. “He’d have access to the same letterhead at the salon.”

“Letterhead?” Jeongho sounds almost bored.

“The proof photo you sent Kwak Dongha when you sold him the bottle.” I watch his face for the shock that comes with being caught. But there is none. Instead, he looks slightly annoyed.

“So, what do you want?” he says.

I’m taken aback by his reaction. Any normal person would at least show some guilt or apprehension at being confronted like this. But from the way he glares at us, he doesn’t seem to think he did anything wrong.

“Why did you do it?” I ask, confused. It’s me he hates, not Ana.

“You mean why did I take the pill bottles? Or why did I give one to the police?”