Page 30 of Wish Upon a K-Star

They both stop short as they look around. “Oh, sorry,” Hanbin says, stepping forward to shake hands with the photographer. “We must be in the wrong dressing room.”

“No, it’s fine,” Mr. Lee says. “You’re right next door. We can shift back to the couple shoot, then, since Moonster-ssi is here.” He calls for another assistant, directing them to reset the equipment.

“Do you have snacks here?” Minseok is asking, plopping down on a chair.

Minseok and his team are a whirlwind; everyone is paying attention to him. But for the first time in a long time, I’m relieved he’s here. Because if everyone’s paying attention to him, they’re no longer focusing on me.

I take the hanger with the objectionable outfit and shove it into the middle of the clothing rack, trying to hide it in the folds of a voluminous gown.

Ten minutes later, I’m in a simple sundress layered with a loose thick-knit cardigan. It’s a bit warm out for a sweater, but after the last clash over outfits, I refuse to bring up another objection.

We’re led to a garden set and I’m directed to sit on a swing bench. A set assistant carefully arranges my skirt so it artfully splays out, while Minseok is placed behind like he’s pushing me.

“Okay, grab onto the chain, Moonster-ssi.”

Minseok does as directed, but he yanks the chain too hard, and I almost go toppling over. I clamp my teeth tight, a cage to hold in the angry words I want to snap at Minseok. Instead, I try to fix the lay of my dress again.

We feel so out of sync. Maybe this is a sign that this was a bad idea.

“Can we begin?” Mr. Lee calls out, annoyance clear in his voice.

I look up to realize he’s staring at me, like the delays are all my fault even though Minseok was the one who was a half hour late. But I just nod meekly and try to settle back on the bench.

“No! Don’t slouch!”

I straighten myself, embarrassed at being chastised twice in quick succession.

“Moonster-ssi, maybe try to soften your expression?” I try not to notice how much kinder the suggestions are when directed at Minseok.

“Okay, now Moonster-ssi, sit with Hyeri.” He does, but he’s all the way on the other side of the swing, a wide space between us.

“Hyeri, can you please try to act like you like him? Why are you so far away?”

I blink in disbelief. Minseok is the one who chose his position on the swing. I haven’t even moved.

But I bite down on my lip and my complaints and scoot closer. Minseok is stiff as a board. When I try to lean into him, he just sits there. It feels like trying to pose with a statue.

“Hyeri, it still looks too unnatural. Can you try putting your head on his shoulder?”

It wouldn’t be so unnatural if Minseok would pull the stick out of his a—No, I have to calm down. I can’t let him get to me. I have no idea what’s gotten into Minseok, but I refuse to let his attitude make me do any less than my best.

I lean in to rest my head on his shoulder. He doesn’t even attempt to adjust his posture to accommodate me, so the extreme angle strains my neck. Even so, I am determined to obey every directive like I’m the most agreeable model in the world.

“Moonster-ssi, arm around Hyeri, please?”

He does, but so roughly that his hand disrupts the carefully placed curls along my collar.

I try to fluff them again, but he’s crushing them with his closed fist.

“Can you relax?” I mutter.

“Just pose for the photo. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

I gape up at him. “Are you serious?”

“This is not playtime, Hyeri. Can you save your conversations for after the shoot?” Mr. Lee says.

“Yeah, can we get this done?” Minseok says loudly enough for the entire crew to hear.

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