Page 112 of Wish Upon a K-Star

He winces at the stab of pain that radiates down his arm. Everyone immediately crowds around him.

“Hey, Seok-ah, you okay?” Jongdae asks as Minseok clings to him for support. “You need to go back to the hospital?”

Minseok gasps out. “I think…”

“Yeah?” Jongdae asks, leaning closer to hear his friend’s request.

“I think that if you kiss it, it’ll feel better.”

“Ya!” Jongdae drops Minseok, who stumbles back, doubled over with laughter.

“Do you guys want to eat?” Jun asks, pulling out fried chicken from one of the bags.

“Yes!” Jaehyung says immediately, eyes widening with delight.

Minseok smiles, knowing that things are already feeling lighter in the apartment. But he hesitates, glancing at the door again. Because as much as he knows he should let her go, he can’t stop wondering if he can catch up with Hyeri before she takes off.

“Call her,” Jongdae says, holding out his phone.

Minseok takes it, dialing Hyeri’s number. But just as his phone rings, so does another in the room. The others all check their pockets, but none of them are the culprit. Robbie, who’s leaning against the back of the couch, reaches between the cushions and pulls out Hyeri’s phone.

“She must have accidentally left it,” Jongdae says as Minseok takes it, the screen now declaring a missed call.

He looks back and forth between the phone and his friends.

“Go after her,” Jaehyung says.

“What?” Minseok frowns.

“You’ll regret it if you don’t,” Robbie says with a knowing grin.

Minseok looks at Jongdae, who nods encouragingly. “Take my phone, call a taxi.”

“Thanks,” Minseok says, racing out of the apartment.

“Hyeri!” Mom calls after me, slamming out of the car. “Get back here right now. We’re going to miss our flight.”

“I can’t,” I gasp out, starting to hyperventilate.

“Okay, just breathe.” Mom leads me to the curb and sits me down, pushing my head between my knees.

I take in deep gulps of air until I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out anymore.

“Better?” Mom is rubbing circles on my back. It feels good and I don’t want her to stop. It reminds me of when I was seven and I’d stay home sick. Mom would lie next to me in bed and rub circles on my back until I fell asleep.

“I can’t,” I say again.

“Yes, you can, just breathe in slow and then out slow.”

I lift my head to look at her now. “No, I can’t go to LA.”

She blinks at me like she doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “Of course you can go. We’re not even late; we’ll still make the flight.”

“No, Eomma, please listen to me,” I say. “I don’twantto go to LA.”

“That’s ridiculous. This is what you’ve dreamed of. It’s what you’ve been working toward.”

I hear Minseok’s voice in my head, telling me to stop making decisions just to please everyone around me, and I find the courage to shake my head. “No, it’s whatyou’vedreamed of. Whatyou’vewanted me to work toward. I’m only nineteen. I want to have a life, not a career.”

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