Page 12 of Wish Upon a K-Star

“S ohee, I’m almost there.” I press the phone between my shoulder and ear as I adjust my grip on the bags of winter jackets and toiletries Sohee left behind. I should have used my earbuds, but I forgot them.

“Thank you, Eonni. I’m so sorry you have to do this. I could’ve just sent a manager to pick it up.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m already here. Buzz me in.” I wrestle with the phone as I type into the building keypad to call Sohee’s apartment and wait for the door to unlock.

I needed to get out of the dorm today, so when Sohee texted about her forgotten items, I offered to deliver them. I don’t want to overthink what happened at the midsummer K-pop festival. Or, worse yet, dwell on the way it felt to have Minseok shielding me with his body, cradling me in his arms. I can still feel his fingers brushing against my cheek to push back my hair.

I’m so distracted I almost slam into a couple of students as they hurry out of the elevators. And I lower myself into an awkward bow, limited by the heavy bags I’m dragging with me.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

The girls stare at me curiously. And I remember too late that people in Korea don’t usually apologize when they bump into each other, but it’s a habit I never got rid of from growing up in the States.

I hope they don’t recognize me. I’m wearing a hat and a face mask, but sometimes I feel like that just makes it way more obvious someone is trying to hide their identity.

They roll their eyes but seem to dismiss the incident as I press the floor for Sohee’s new dorm with the other Kastor members.

The building is nice. New looking. Bright Star really doled out for a pre-debut group. Usually the rookies have to live in the most cramped and basic of apartments. But I suppose Bright Star can afford more luxury now, even for their debuts.

“Eonni,” Sohee calls to me as I get off the elevator. She’s waiting in front of her open door.

I hurry toward her.

“What are you doing? You can’t just stand out here.” I glance around nervously. Even though most residents of these buildings respect the privacy of celebrities, there’s no knowing who’s lurking or what sasaeng fans might have found a way inside.

And Sohee has to be even more cautious as she’s already so widely known.

Thankfully, I don’t spot anyone. I still urge her back into her apartment but stop short when I see the camera behind her.

Oh no, they’re filming their vlogs right now? I immediately change course and stop outside the door, not even stepping into the foyer, which is already cluttered with dozens of shoes.

I’m sure the team won’t use any footage with me in it. Better not mar the pristine image of their precious debut group with my bad reputation.

As if on cue, the crew lowers their cameras. The team leader whispers something to the two cameramen that has them retreating into the apartment.

It’s something I’d expect. Any footage with me is useless. But still, it stings. If it had been another senior celebrity, they’d be ecstatic to have cross-interaction for the vlogs. But I’m tainted goods right now.

“Here you go.” I drop the bags at her feet a little hastily, suddenly wishing I’d stayed home instead. But Sohee catches my hand to stop me.

“You’re not going to come in? I want to show you the new place. Some of the girls are here; they’ll want to greet you.”

I highly doubt that.

I only know Sohee and another girl, Bomi, who’s been a trainee for years with us. The other four joined Bright Star after Sohee and I were already on CiPro . After Helloglow disbanded and Sohee and I returned to Bright Star, I was worried the new trainees would assume all the rumors about me were true. I didn’t want to deal with the sidelong glances or whispers behind my back. So, I kept my distance.

“I have a schedule,” I lie. “Next time, okay?”

I squeeze her hand before pulling out of her grip and hurrying to the elevator.

Maybe I should have stayed , I think. Did it look bad that I ran away so quickly?

I almost turn to go back inside when I notice a small huddle of kids hovering next to the entrance. The same ones I almost ran into by the elevators. But now they have friends.

Their heads snap up, dirty looks aimed in my direction. And I have only two seconds to realize something bad is coming before the first attack.

One of the girls pulls her hand out from behind her back. Flour flies in my face, a cloud of dust blinding me for a second before it settles all over my hair, my face, my clothes.

The sting of the powder burns my eyes and I retreat a step. I try to blink it away as something hard cracks against my forehead. I don’t know exactly what it is until I feel the slimy yolk run down my face.

“How could you hurt Oppa?!”

“What?” I ask as I feel another egg break against my shoulder. The cold yolk gets under my collar and runs down my back. I finally succeed in clearing my vision of the flour, fat tears clumping with it on my cheeks. But when I see the angry glares, I wonder if it was better when I couldn’t see.

“Stay away from Moonster-oppa!”

“How dare you hit him!”

How could they know? Did HBS actually post their footage?

Another egg hits me in the chest and I stagger back like someone taking a bullet instead of raw baking ingredients. The scent is rancid. How did they find rotten eggs?

“Bully!” shouts one of the girls.

I vaguely register the irony of someone calling me a bully as they pelt me with eggs.

A strangled sound escapes me. I don’t know if it’s a cry or a laugh as I can’t see past the futile resentment building in me.

“Eonni!” I hear Sohee calling my name, causing the teens to scatter.

I barely notice as I fall to my knees, the cold yolk of the egg running down my face. It seems the public knows about the accident at the midsummer festival.