Page 18 of Wish Upon a K-Star
B right Star Entertainment has grown since I became a trainee there.
When I arrived in Seoul six years ago, it was in a small four-story building in Cheongdamdong. But a year ago it moved to a building three times the size in Gangnam. And it’s all thanks to the money WDB brings in.
It’s still fresh enough that whenever an artist from Bright Star goes on a show, the classic joke often told is that WDB pays the rent. And everyone else helps pay for the toilet paper.
We all laugh and act like we’re in on the joke. But I wonder if the other artists also feel like it’s a reminder that we could disappear from Bright Star and they’d still be fine without us. Or maybe it’s just me, the perpetual problem child.
I’m currently in the state-of-the-art salon in the company building. Another new amenity. I hate that I’m dependent on this benefit. When I had to go to a shop before, there was always a chance of antis camping outside to shout and spit. And after the flour-and-egg situation, Hongjoo doesn’t want to take any chances with security.
“Just remember the prewritten answers during the press junket today,” Hongjoo is saying. She’s pacing, which means she must be really nervous.
“All right, Eonni.”
“You got a chance to memorize them?” she asks, glancing at her phone for the fifth time in the last minute.
“Yes, Eonni.” I try to keep myself calm so I don’t worry her more. It’s a strange position swap. But oddly, it helps me. To be able to comfort Hongjoo. Maybe because it takes my mind off my own worries.
“Great, good. Maybe review them one last time?” Her phone dings before I can reply in the affirmative. And she nods. “Okay, they’re here.”
They? I almost ask, but she’s already ushering me out the door.
“Eonni, maybe you should take something for your stomach? You seem really nervous,” I say, handing her the bottle of water I’d grabbed from the mini fridge in the salon.
“I’m good. I’m fine,” she says as she unscrews the cap and chugs down the entire bottle.
She dumps it in a trash bin when we emerge into the parking garage. But instead of heading to our car, she pauses at the curb and checks her phone again.
“Eonni, aren’t we getting the car?”
“Huh?”
I start to ask the question again when the elevator doors open behind us and Minseok walks out with a cheeky grin on his annoying face. “Well, fancy running into you here.”
I’m initially shocked that he’s acting like we didn’t get into a huge fight at the photo shoot. Then I remember that Minseok is the king of avoidance. A dozen sarcastic responses sit at the tip of my tongue. I could say one of them—only Hongjoo is here to witness it. But I don’t want to upset her, so I hold back, even though it pains me.
“Well, we are going to the same place.” I can wait until I’m in the safety of my own car to curse his existence.
A black van with dark tinted windows pulls up with Hanbin in the driver’s seat. The automatic doors open and Minseok climbs in. But I’m surprised when Hongjoo jumps into the passenger seat.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you getting in?” Minseok asks from the back, watching me expectantly.
“Wh-what?” I ask.
“Oh, we’re just going to ride with Hanbin and Moonster-ssi, since we’re going to the same place.” Hongjoo’s hands are shaking a bit as she buckles her belt, and I realize she must be too nervous to drive.
Sighing, I climb in.
Be cordial , I remind myself. It’ll be over soon.
“Ready?” Hanbin asks, glancing in the rearview mirror as he presses the button to close the door.
I start to nod when Minseok says, “Aren’t you going to buckle up?” In my confusion I forgot. Still, he doesn’t need to be so rude about it.
Embarrassed, I yank too hard on the seat belt, and it refuses to budge.
I pull again, trying my best to be gentle this time, but it’s practically stuck in place.
“Come on,” I mutter. I can feel myself becoming more and more frustrated with each pull, but I can’t help it. I can tell everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to finish so we can go.
“You’re still horrible at pulling out a seat belt,” Minseok says.
“I’m not horrible at it,” I say through gritted teeth, still yanking. “They’ve gotten more sensitive.”
“Aish.” Minseok leans into me, his body practically covering mine.
I press back into the seat, letting out a surprised gasp. My mind flashes to that moment backstage, when he lay over me, cradling my head to protect it from the falling glass, and every inch of my skin seems to burn.
I notice how long his lashes are. They brush against his cheeks as he glances down at me.
“Wh-what?” I barely stutter out, trying to make sense of what’s happening.
Then he gently opens my fist and takes the seat belt from me, pulling it around me with ease. He leans back to click it into place. Without his body blocking mine, the air-conditioning vent blasts on me, a welcome reprieve, as I feel so warm, I worry I’m sweating.
Maybe I’m coming down with something , I think as I press my palm to my forehead.
Hongjoo notices the movement and eyes me in the rearview mirror. “Hyeri, is something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” I squeak out, then grimace at the sound of my voice.
I think I notice Minseok’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter. I turn toward the window so my back is to him for the rest of the ride.
When we arrive at the venue, we’re ushered out of the van in an underground garage. An entourage descends on us the moment we’re hurried out of the elevators. Stylists rush forward to make sure we didn’t wrinkle anything on the way here. Someone from my makeup team pulls out a compact, and I obediently lift my chin so they can touch up my foundation.
We’re stationed at the entrance to the press room. I hear the chatter of reporters behind the doors, and I turn to Hongjoo.
“Eonni,” I mutter anxiously under my breath so Minseok can’t hear. He looks relaxed, unaffected as he lets his makeup team touch him up.
“Just remember your answers,” Hongjoo says. “You know how to do this. You’ll be fine. And if you need help, Minseok-ssi will be there.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Minseok is too much of a wild card. He’s just as likely to make me the butt of a joke for his own amusement as he is to actually help me out in front of the reporters. I’ll just depend on myself—I’ve gotten better at press conferences, even if the constantly flashing cameras are so disorienting.
“Okay, they’re going to announce you both,” someone says. I think I recognize them as an assistant PD from HBS, but he’s gone before I can confirm. Hongjoo and Hanbin are ushering the teams away, probably to take their place in the back of the room to monitor the press conference. And then it’s just Minseok and me waiting behind closed doors to be called in.
“Stop that or you’ll walk in with bloody fingers,” Minseok says, pulling my hands apart.
I didn’t realize I’d been picking nervously at my cuticles. Already my left ring finger looks a mess.
“Shoot,” I mutter, sticking the manicured nail into my mouth to try to smooth out the jagged skin.
“Just take deep breaths. You’ve done press conferences before,” Minseok says. He looks annoyed and it presses deep on my nerves.
“I know. I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” I insist, clasping my hands together to stop myself from picking at them more.
Why is it taking so long for them to call us in?
I just want to get this over with already.
It feels so hot even though the hallway is well ventilated. The air-conditioning is brisk enough that I feel the blow of it from the vents overhead. Still, I press my fingers to the pulse on my wrist to check. It’s definitely speeding.
What if I’m coming down with something? What if I faint in the middle of the press conference?
“Ya, Hyeri.” Minseok grabs my shoulders, and I realize he’s been trying to say something to me.
“Sorry, I—Uh, what were you saying?”
“You still space out like that?” Minseok frowns down at me like I’m a small child with a bad habit.
“I’m just focused on the press conference.” I glower at him as I pull out of his grip.
He tilts his head curiously at me. “Are you sure you’re good?” Things must be bad for Minseok to actually sound concerned.
I’m about to give some brush-off answer, but for some reason I let out a heavy sigh that makes my shoulders droop with defeat.
“Why do you care? Don’t you think I should deal with my own shit?”
He sighs. “Hyeri-yah, I’m sorry. That was a messed-up thing to say.”
I want to hold my ground and not forgive him too easily, but he genuinely looks contrite. And I know starting a fight with him right before this press conference would be a mistake. So I nod. “Yeah, okay, let’s just forget that conversation ever happened and focus on this press conference. I can’t afford to mess this up.” I press my hands against my cheeks. They’re burning, and I can only guess how red I look right now with my rushing nerves.
“You won’t.” Minseok sounds so confident, but it just highlights my own intense doubts.
“But what if the public sees right through us? What if they hate me even more after this?”
“You still do that what-if thing, huh?”
“What?”
He smiles, and it’s almost kind. “That thing you always used to do when we were younger. You’d ask the strangest what-if questions all the time. ‘What if I lose my voice entirely in the middle of an evaluation?’ ‘What if I have an allergic reaction to a face mask?’ ‘What if I fall into a sewer hole and no one finds me for days?’”
“Sewer holes can be dangerous,” I mutter.
“If you’re a cartoon character.” He laughs.
“It’s a real concern.”
“Okay, but what if it all works out way better than we thought?”
“It won’t,” I almost blurt out. Because things usually don’t work out well for me. And when they do, it just means the other shoe is yet to fall.
The doors open then and that same assistant PD who first greeted us appears. He ushers us inside. Cameras start to flash immediately, and I resist the urge to check my cheeks again, but they actually don’t feel flushed anymore.
I guess my annoyance at Minseok distracted me from my nerves. Right now, he’s smiling and waving at the cameras as we pose in front of the large banner with the Our Celebrity Marriage logo. I have a set of poses I know work well from all angles. I am working through them methodically when Minseok steps closer, holding out his hand. I lean away, surprised by the unexpected closeness when I realize he’s making half of a hand-heart. He gives me a raised brow, waiting for me to finish it. And I have no choice, it would be too awkward to leave him hanging. So, I finish the heart, sending a weak smile at the cameras.
A short table is set up with two mics for the question-and-answer portion. Minseok pulls out my chair for me with a smile. A show for the reporters. But I force myself to smile back at him and accept the seat.
This is just another performance , I remind myself. You’re good at that.
The questions begin immediately.
“What made you agree to do this show with your packed schedules?” The first is an easy one given by a reporter known to be friendly to Bright Star.
I lean in to answer first. “I’m a huge fan of the show. I watched the entire last season, since one of our sunbaes was on it.” A reference to a veteran actor represented by Bright Star, good cross-promotion for the company. “So, when the show fit into my schedule, I jumped at the chance.”
“What about you, Moonster-ssi?”
“I figured I’d earn points with my mom if I finally settled down.” He grins so naturally at the responding laughter, and I wonder if his answers also had to be pre-written or if he’s making this up on the fly. I can’t really imagine the staid marketing managers writing that kind of line.
“Moonster-ssi, will we be able to expect the other members of WDB to make an appearance on the show?”
“We haven’t finished planning for the episodes, but I’m sure they’ll come to the wedding if they can. If Jaehyung comes, we’ll have to double the catering budget.”
That gets a few more good-natured laughs. He’s so good at this, it’s making me feel even more stiff in comparison.
“What about you, Hyeri?” another reporter asks. “Will any members from Helloglow be attending the ceremony or housewarming?”
I lean in with the prepared answer, remembering to add a smile for the cameras. “I’d love for some of the girls to come. With our busy schedules we rarely have the chance to get together these days. But they’re all definitely invited.”
The response isn’t as enthusiastic as Minseok got, but I see some nods at the acceptable answer. I feel like I’m somehow failing even as I perfectly recite the answers. If only Minseok wasn’t here to make me feel so stiff and unskilled.
A reporter in a dark red windbreaker raises their hand. “What do you think of the video from backstage at the midsummer K-pop festival?”
I tense even though this is an expected question. Minseok leans forward to answer first; he’ll smooth the way with the explanation and I will add my short apology at the end. I recite the words in my head to prepare: I’m sorry for being lacking; I have reflected on my actions and will work harder in the future.
“We’re embarrassed about that accident and grateful that no one was hurt. We were so impressed by how the staff took quick action to make sure that the space was made safe so the show could move forward smoothly. We regret that any of our actions created any concern or worry among fans but appreciate that they continue to support us both.”
I lean forward to add my part when red windbreaker interrupts. “How do you feel about the rumors that the fight was due to jealousy over Kim Ana?”
That wipes my carefully rehearsed answer out of my brain. It wasn’t one of the questions we were anticipating. It’s obviously a question for me, but I don’t know how to answer it in a graceful way. If I say I’m not jealous they won’t believe me. If I try to brush it off, it might come across as caustic. Still, everyone is waiting for an answer and it feels like the flashes of the cameras are getting faster.
“Well, um, I think…”
“Is there a rumor Hyeri’s jealous of me and Kim Ana? That’s impossible,” Minseok says with a laugh. “Hyeri’s seen me at my most awkward before I discovered CC cream.”
Some of the reporters laugh along. Shock has me turning to stare at him, but Minseok doesn’t even spare me a glance as he continues. “The accident was just that, an accident. But we do realize it could have been worse and we’re sorry for being so lacking. Hyeri and I have both reflected on our actions and will work harder in the future. Next question?”
He so clearly and brusquely moves things along. And with nothing to say now, I lean back, nervously picking at my cuticles.
I try not to glance at red windbreaker, but I can’t help it. He’s slowly shaking his head, mouth in a tight disappointed line as he types something. Does he think I was being rude by not answering his question? Does he think I’m not taking responsibility? I want to ask Minseok what he was thinking, but, of course, I can’t.
The next asks their question. “Have you met the other couples cast in this season?”
“Not yet,” I answer, trying my best to remember the pre-written answer. “But when I saw who was cast, I was really starstruck. I’ve been a huge fan of those sunbaes since before I debuted.”
The rest of the questions are among the predicted list. And Minseok and I take turns answering. We’re nearing the end of the press conference, and I finally feel like I can let myself relax. The final questions are always throwaways. We did it, we survived.
Then red windbreaker lifts a hand. I wish there was a way to call on someone else, but ignoring him would be too obvious. He’s staring at me with sharp, almost predatory eyes. And my stomach clenches in apprehension.
“Hyeri-ssi, what do you think of the rumors that Kim Ana was in talks to be cast in the show before you, but turned it down to take the role in Idol Academy that you were passed over for?” He directs the question at me this time. Like he learned his lesson with the last. It’s blunt and rude, but the reporter shamelessly watches me for my reaction.
I can feel my hands go numb as I grip the edge of the table. I find Hongjoo in the back of the crowd, her eyes wide as she holds her hands in an X. She doesn’t want me to answer. But not answering could be misconstrued as dismissive or petty. What should I do?
I didn’t even know that Ana was under consideration for the show. Or is that a lie made up to get a rise from me?
I start to lean forward, clearing my throat. The sound is caught by the mic—it echoes like an awkward cough throughout the room.
“Hyeri-ssi? Do you need me to repeat the question?” Red windbreaker looks like he’s smiling a bit, satisfied that he’s caught me in this trap.
“Um, no, I just—”
Minseok grabs my hand, squeezing it hard.
He leans forward to answer. But that’s not right. The question was for me this time. There’s no reason he should be answering this one.
Minseok grins. “Hey, this isn’t fair. Shouldn’t you also be asking me how I feel about the rumors that Rowoon-sunbae was almost cast?” He lifts a challenging brow, and I’m surprised that he’d call out the unfair treatment so blatantly. Then he gives a charming grin. “And my answer would be that I’d love to be married to him.”
Everyone laughs at the obvious joke. “But in all seriousness, I was thrilled when they told me Hyeri would be on the show with me. To be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’ve known Hyeri since we were kids dreaming of being where we are right now.” He turns to smile at me, and I realize I’ve been staring at him. Stuck in place as I watch him effortlessly divert the trap question as easily as swatting away an annoying fly. He keeps my gaze in his as he continues. “I think it will be fun to catch up with an old friend. No matter what, it will be worth it to spend time with someone who’s known me for so long.”
“And Hyeri-ssi, what about you? How do you feel about your new future husband?” one of the other reporters asks, but I don’t know who, as I’m still staring at Minseok. I can’t pin down the mixed emotions spinning inside me like a cyclone.
He gives me an encouraging nod. A way to let me know that everything is fine. Crisis averted. Because he saved me. I let out my breath to pull another in. It’s a little shaky, but I’m able to replace my smile again.
There’s an old familiarity in the way Minseok looks at me right now. It pulls me back to the way I felt when I was fifteen, in awe of the way he exudes confidence and kindness in equal measure. I’m still watching him even as I lean into the mic. I can’t remember the pre-written answers. So, I just say whatever comes to mind. “Yes, I am really pleased with my new fake fiancé. I can’t wait to live fake happily ever after as long as he always remembers to take out our fake trash.”
The reporters all laugh along with the joke.
And Minseok’s lips quirk up in that signature cocky grin of his as he pats my hand in approval.