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I groan. “Please stop calling it that. I’ll be lucky if I don’t strangle Minseok on camera. He’s so nosy. You know he tried to lecture my mom about me?”

“Yeah, you told me that already,” Sohee says.

“Oh, I did?”

“Eonni, have you ever heard of mention syndrome?”

“Huh? Is that like Munchausen syndrome?” I ask.

Sohee laughs. “No, it’s this phenomenon that’s really serious.”

My heart drops. Is Sohee trying to tell me she’s sick? “What is it?”

“It’s when you start to mention one person more and more. And you don’t even realize you’re doing it. But it’s kind of your brain’s way of alerting you that you’re probably into them.”

“What?” I laugh, realizing it’s nothing serious after all. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re talking about Minseok-sunbae a lot these days.”

“What?” An electric shock flies through me. “No, you’re misinterpreting it. It’s just that I have to deal with him and this show all the time. It’s natural to talk about what’s going on in your life.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’re complaining about the show. Or the producers or writers. You only ever talk about Minseok-sunbae.” She grins mischievously at me. “Be honest, Eonni. Do you still like him?”

“Definitely not,” I spit out. Of all people, I know how fruitless it is to like Minseok.

My family didn’t really spend lots of quality time together. Even before Oppa and I came to Korea as trainees.

My dad is what people used to call a workaholic. And my mom overcompensated by spending all the money he earned to show off a flashy, luxury lifestyle to all our neighbors and friends. I suppose that’s why she was so excited when Oppa and I were scouted. It was another thing to brag about.

Since I came to Korea, I don’t think I remember a full day I spent with my whole family.

But I do have one perfect family memory. It was a Saturday when I was in second grade. My dad decided to pack us all into the car and drive to the beach for the day. My mom had grumbled about it, but even at eight I could tell she was in a good mood.

We played games in the ocean and ate sandwiches. And just goofed around all day, getting sand everywhere. I was so exhausted by the end that I fell asleep in the car. I woke up at one point and saw my parents holding hands as my dad drove us home. It was the perfect day.

Every time I saw the ocean after, I’d remember that day. But at some point, it stopped being a happy reminder. And instead became proof that perfect days didn’t exist for us anymore.

So, of course,OCMdecided that the ideal shooting location for our faux-honeymoon episodes was the beach.

Now here I am, walking on the sand with Minseok. We ate at a well-known seafood restaurant, the kind with dozens of photos of other celebrities or shows that have graced it before. We took a picture with the owner and provided our autographs to add to the wall.

Minseok was his usual charismatic self the entire time. You’d never know that he and I had a fight. I guess I should be grateful. But it just makes me uneasy. Is he really not mad at me? Or is he pretending for the show?

After, Minseok suggests we get ice cream and walk along the beach.

I agree, because it’s part of the schedule for the shoot and the brand of ice-cream cone we eat is part of a product-placement agreement. Even so, I don’t love the idea of walking along the beach in my outfit. They have me in a dress that hits just below my knees. It’s gossamer light in a sweet peach color. But it’s windy by the water today, an issue when your dress is designed to be worn in cute city cafés and not beach excursions.

My fears are proven right as I have to juggle between holding my ice cream and holding down my skirt.

Minseok, oblivious to my struggle, veers toward the water, dipping his feet into the ocean.

I stay put up the beach. My dress is so thin that if it gets wet, it’ll become completely see-through.

My mom’s voice echoes in my head reminding me thatBimbos don’t keep fans.

Minseok glances back and rolls his eyes at me. “Come on, what’s the point of coming to the beach if you don’t put your feet in the water?”

“I’m still eating my ice cream,” I say, holding up the cone as proof. Though, I’ve barely even licked it. With my diet, it’s more like a prop at this point. Such a waste.