Page 9 of Wish Upon a K-Star

T he thing is Kim Ana and I were friends at first. Or I thought so, at least.

But it’s hard to keep friendships when it’s a competition.

Originally, we bonded over being Korean American, staying up late gossiping in Konglish. Ana’s Korean was better than mine since she came to Seoul when she was eight, but my English vocabulary was more advanced. So, we’d teach each other new slang phrases to use.

I grew attached to her quickly the way kids at summer camp do. Making promises to visit each other in the States the next time we were allowed to go, completely ignoring that she was from New York and I was from Los Angeles. To two teenagers, a few thousand miles didn’t matter when friendship was on the line.

I don’t blame her for distancing herself when the first wave of negative comments about me appeared, when it became clear the show was painting me as the villain. Many people already hated me because they thought I got a slot because of my famous older brother, and the producers of CiPro decided to capitalize on the drama.

And somehow Kim Ana became the favorite tool netizens used to beat at me and my reputation.

I know Ana was just as new as me, was fighting to debut just like me. I know she had nothing to do with the producers and the evil editing of my scenes. But sometimes I wonder why she didn’t do anything to help me.

If she’d just spoken out to defend me at first, maybe it wouldn’t have spiraled so quickly.

No, it’s not worth wondering about what-ifs at this point.

I read the script for the last-minute interview. I hate things being sprung on me. I need time to mentally prepare for my appearances. It’s why I did so badly at unscripted variety shows.

My cue comes as the commercial break ends and I enter the stage, stopping at the host podium. A Helloglow lightstick catches my eye. It’s not that there aren’t others with my old group’s lightstick, but they’re sparse enough that I’ve noticed each and every one. And I know the familiar frowning face. He’s holding his lightstick beside his thin cheek, like he wants me to see him. I recognize his signature short-cropped, almost military haircut, which stands out from the shaggier styles that are more in fashion these days. An anti-fan named Kwak Dongha who used to follow Helloglow around. He’s hated me since my CiPro era, and I’m half convinced he’s the one behind the HyeriTopAnti account.

He probably wants me to screw up so he can post about it.

“Hyeri-yah!” Hyejun’s greeting pulls me from my staring contest with Dongha. And I turn just as my big brother folds me into a half hug. I hear a bunch of squeals and giggles from the audience as the other members take their turns, giving me hugs and high fives. At least the AX1S fans still like me, probably because the group all collectively treats me like their sister, so I’m not a threat.

Still my nerves are so high that I stick only to the words on the page. I know I must seem stiff, but thankfully Hyejun and his members do most of the work, joking around and making the audience laugh.

After, I introduce Minseok and Ana, smiling wide at the cameras. Like I have no idea there is a rumor floating around that I bullied Kim Ana. Like I have no reason to feel awkward about introducing her.

It’s the most difficult twenty seconds on camera of the year. But I get through it and let my shoulders fall when the lights dim around me and the center stage lights up.

Minseok walks out in his performance costume. No, he’s not Minseok like this. He’s Moonster. He wears a sparkling silver blazer accented by a red calla lily, a symbolic flower in the drama. He looks good, though I’d never tell him. He doesn’t need me to tell him. He obviously knows it.

As Moonster finishes his verse, Ana’s lifted from below the stage. Her dress is the same sparkling material as Moonster’s blazer.

She looks absolutely stunning, just like she always does. From her shining raven hair framing her heart-shaped face in loose waves, to her full pouting lips, to her long legs that make her the tallest member from Helloglow. I linger at the edge of the stage, searching her costume for something that could be missing.

It’s a futile task. How am I supposed to know what her original costume looked like? I turn back to the audience, searching for Dongha’s angry leering face, but I can’t find him again.

I give up and hurry backstage, looking for Hongjoo. I should tell her Dongha is here. He’s never done anything to get banned from events or appearances. Which is why he scares me so much. He always walks right up to the line, but never crosses it. That doesn’t mean he won’t choose to one day.

I can’t find Hongjoo right away, so I go back to my dressing room. There’s time until I have to be onstage again with the back-to-back performances right now. But when I turn the corner, there’s someone at the door. They have on a dark hoodie so I can’t even see the color of their hair.

For a second, I’m convinced it’s Kwak Dongha. They look tall enough to be him and every idol has heard horror stories of how sasaeng fans can even find a way into your hotel room. As they shift to get a better grip on the handle, I notice something bulging in their pocket. Did they steal something?

“Hello?” I call out.

Instead of replying they take off down the hall. Definitely suspicious.

“Hey!” Instinct and curiosity take over and I hurry after them.

They turn at the end of the hall squeezing around piles of crates. This part of the backstage area is mostly used to store sound and lighting equipment.

They stumble over a heap of heavy coiled wires before righting themselves, but in my heels, I can barely maneuver around the boxes and cords.

I bump into a cart holding the confetti guns for the finale and grab the stacked boxes to keep them from dropping. By the time I look up again, the person, whoever they were, is gone.

They were probably just in the wrong place , I tell myself. Except, why did they run?

Deciding there’s nothing I can do but tell Hongjoo, I start back to my dressing room when I see a flash of color by the black wires.

It’s a flower. The dark red petals so full and lush that it’s as big as my hand. A pin sticking out the back pokes at my palm. Did it fall off someone’s outfit?

And just at the thought of that, I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere. But where?

“What are you doing here?”

I spin around, forgetting about the wires piled around me, and I trip over a coil behind my foot.

My scream is cut short as Minseok lunges forward and catches me around the waist. My shoulder falls hard into his chest and he lets out a surprised grunt.

“Oh crap,” I gasp out, forgetting my carefully controlled manners when I’m at an event.

“Shit, Hyeri, that fucking hurt.” Minseok clearly isn’t as worried with vulgarity as I am. Though the harsh English words sound posh in his light British accent. He always did have the habit of cursing in English instead of Korean.

“Stop groping me,” I demand, pushing away from him. But as I do, I grab onto his lapel, where a flower is pinned. The red calla lily.

This is where I’ve seen it before.

Why would it be here when Minseok is already wearing his?

Then I realize that this isn’t Minseok’s flower. It’s Kim Ana’s. She wasn’t wearing one onstage. This must be the missing part of her costume. Which means…

“Oh crap,” I say again. This time, I don’t care if someone catches me cursing. That’s nothing compared to being caught with this flower.

“What is it?” Minseok asks, but I just shove the flower into his hands. Then fast walk back toward my dressing room.

“Wait, Hyeri!” Minseok calls after me.

Don’t follow me , I think. Just stay away and let me get to safety.

But unfortunately, I’m not telepathic.

He continues after me. “Hyeri, what were you doing back there?”

“What were you doing back there?” I counter even though it sounds childish.

“I saw you running down the hall and thought something was wrong.” He finally grabs my arm to stop me.

I eye his other hand, still holding the lily. “Keep that thing away from me.”

“What? This?” And of course, he lifts the flower out toward me. Like a guy presenting a bouquet.

But I don’t want it; it’s probably poisonous for all my luck.

I can’t let anyone see me with this flower. It would look like proof that I am actively sabotaging Kim Ana.

“I said keep away!” I grit out, smacking at the flower, and in the process slapping Minseok’s hand too. The flower goes flying. But when I turn again to leave, he grabs my wrist.

“Wait.”

No, I’m still too close to the evidence. I need to get out of here.

Minseok lets out a surprised shout as I push him away. There’s a clatter that leads to a thud and then a crash. I turn in time to see him grabbing the cart holding the confetti guns before it tips completely over.

But I watch in slow-motion horror as a box slips off the top. A confetti shooter falls out, going off on impact with the floor.

Without the wide-open space of the stage, the confetti shoots into some of the stored equipment like paper shrapnel. It shatters a row of stage lights beside us.

Minseok tackles me as the glass rains down.

I’m crushed under him, my hand caught between our chests. One of his arms is shoved under my head—it’s all that kept me from slamming my skull into the tile.

He’s hovering low over me, his eyes scanning my face with concern.

“Did the glass cut you?” He’s so close that he doesn’t need to speak louder than a low murmur for me to hear.

Still, I’m disoriented from the fall and having him so close. “What?”

My reply is drowned out by approaching footsteps and shouts.

“Are you two okay?” A production assistant hurries over.

Another PA helps me up, making sure I don’t touch the shattered glass all over the ground.

I can’t stop myself from watching Minseok as his team gathers around him. When he turns towards his manager, I notice the smallest trail of blood on his neck. Why did he shield me like that? Was it just instinct?

Hongjoo calls my name, pushing through the crowd of people to get to my side.

“Did you get hurt? Let me see you.” She grabs my chin, turning my head from side to side. I catch the glint of a lens out of the corner of my eye.

I’ve been trained to find cameras at this point. When you’re performing, you always have to know where the camera is at all times.

And I find it. The HBS vlog team’s camera, filming the whole thing.