Page 44 of Wish Upon a K-Star

I force myself to smile. Force myself to play my part. “Happy to help.”

I’m trying to calm down as we step out of the arcade. But the moment the doors open, screams surround us. Already skittish, I jump in alarm before I recognize them as fans. WDB fans. They’re waving signs and the aforementioned Moonie plushie. Cameras and phones are lifted in the air to get a shot. Moonster gives a congenial smile and wave, completely unfazed. I can barely hear my own thoughts over the screams.

One of the assistant PDs comes over and yells close to my ear. “Someone must have leaked where we were. We’ll have to wrap up.”

They hurry us through the crowd toward the waiting vans. The date is prematurely over. But I can’t help but think it’s for the best. I was already starting to forget what was real and what was just pretend.

Idid use to call Minseok Oppa.

In fact, it was something I secretly relished, the moment we were close enough that I could call him that. It made my heart flutter every time he’d turn in response. It meant he recognized our close relationship too.

Hyejun made fun of me sometimes. Miming the word and pretending like he was air-kissing someone. But I didn’t care what he thought. My crush on Minseok-oppa was too strong to be swayed. And Hyejun wasn’t in our company. So, he couldn’t deter me from engineering moments for me to run into Minseok “coincidentally” in the halls (when really I’d waited, leaning against the wall outside his practice room until he took a break to go to the convenience store for a snack).

I’d ask to tag along. A tentative “Can I come too, Oppa?” and he’d send me that friendly smile that creased the tops of his cheeks and say, “Of course, Hyeri-ya. Oppa will buy you a drink.” And my heart would take off in flutters as I hurried after him.

But a stronger memory blocks out any of the warmth from those naive moments.

Minseok’s harsh voice telling me, “Stop calling me Oppa! You want someone to hear and misunderstand? I don’t have time to deal with this right now. I have to focus on the group, not your immature crush.”

The words were cruel. But I know now that they were necessary. Though they worked to shatter my sensitive heart at the time, I’m better for it.

It helped me along the path of learning the realities of what our lives were about to become. That no matter how we might want normal lives with normal crushes and relationships, as celebrities, we belong to our fans. Nothing we have is just ours anymore, not even our own hearts.

The first episode airs and the company couldn’t be happier.

Despite my certainty that we’ll be the first ever couple onOCMto be fired, the viewers don’t hate us.

Actually, it’s hard to trust it yet, but they seem tolikeus.

I monitor the entire episode, making little mental notes for myself so I can do better in the future. As predicted, I was completely awkward during the initial riddle-solving segment. Though, the producers kindly edited my struggle to frame it as adorably fumbling with the clues.

But once Minseok is on the screen with me, things smooth out. Our bickering is presented as banter. The captions on-screen keep labeling us as old friends, probably at the request of Bright Star. And the commentary is definitely that our little jabs at each other have the undertones of young flirtation.

It’s embarrassing, especially knowing Minseok is probably watching as well. He wouldn’t actually think I was flirting with him, right? He has to know it’s just the editing of the show.

The most surprising thing is that the crew somehow got Miss Ha to do a testimonial interview. When they got it, I have no clue. But she’s standing in her kitchen talking about us as kids, coming in to eat together, thick as thieves.

To my dismay they do air the scene where she mentions my crush. But then it cuts back to the testimonial interview. “The thing is those kids don’t know that Miss Ha sees everything. And I noticed him noticing her too. That’s why I’m not surprised they’re together now.” She shakes her ladle at the camera like she’s lecturing it. “It was just a matter of time, if you ask me.”

I’m not sure how they got her to say that. It can’t be true, but maybe the director thought it would add a bit of flavor to pretend my crush wasn’t completely one-sided. After all, it feeds the romance angle of the show.

At least the producers seem to like how much better I am at the crane game than Minseok. Me teaching him how to win the doll is an entire segment at the end of the episode. Including our hug when we won.

After the episode airs, the narrative online quickly becomes focused on any moments from our debut and pre-debut time. Clips surface of small moments of us interacting.

The power and sleuthing skills of netizens has always scared me. But maybe that’s because it’s always been used against me. Now, there are screenshots from old vlogs. A fuzzy zoom-in of us at a music show when I was promoting with Helloglow and Minseok with WDB. We’re on opposite sides of the stage, but netizens insist there’s a moment where we make “meaningful eye contact.” Amateur body language analysis claiming we were secretly waving or smiling at each other. They even find a still from CCTV footage of us at a convenience store pre-debut.

The netizens seem to love the idea that Minseok and I have had some secret friendship we were so good at hiding that it hasn’t come out until now.

It all feels like another lie, though. Minseok and I are not friends. Acquaintances. Frenemies. A passing embarrassing childish crush. But friends? I don’t know if I could claim that.

Yet this half-truth helps me.

Does letting it spread make me a hypocrite? When I’ve been the victim of nasty half-truths meant to drag me in the past? Or is this something I’m owed after surviving all that?

The restaurant we’re filming in today is one of those fancy (read: expensive) places with private rooms in Gangnam. Places where exclusive business deals take place. But also, the place you go to meet your future in-laws when you’re trying to impress them.

Of course, I’m not trying to impress the people who will show up as Minseok’s stand-in family for the “family meeting” episode. But I am nervous nonetheless. It all seems both so real and so fake at the same time. It feels different than filming a drama. Because even though we’re still telling a story, we’re supposed to be ourselves—just a more entertaining, more palatable version. And it all just feels like more lying.

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