Page 95 of Wish Upon a K-Star

When he opens the door, I try to scan his face. Try to see if he looks upset. But Minseok’s expression is neutral. Maybe he hasn’t read the articles.

“Are you okay? You look upset.” Is his voice more distant? Colder? Or am I just being paranoid?

“I needed to tell you something important.”

“Sure.” He opens the door to let me in.

When I do, I hurry to toe off my shoes while he walks into the kitchen.

I find him at the fridge, pulling out a Coke before offering me the brand of iced Americano I like.

I start to say I’m fine, but then I take it, needing something to do with my hands.

“Did you read the article?” I blurt out. I can’t take the anxiety of not knowing.

“I did,” he says, before taking a long sip of his Coke. Why isn’t he reacting—being surprised or upset or anything? He’s just blank.

The thing that scares me the most is that I’ve known him long enough to know that when Minseok gets really, truly angry, it’s not intense or hot. It’s cold like frost. I’ve been watching him icing out his own best friend—I know he’s capable of doing it to me, too.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you,” I start to say frantically.

He holds up a hand. “You’re not the first person to keep secrets, Hyeri. You won’t be the last.”

I can’t tell if he sounds angry or not, and it’s playing havoc with my nerves. “I just needed time to think.”

“Well, you’ve had a week now, have you made up your mind?”

I start to list out my excuses when I finally catch what he said. “How do you know it’s been a week?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “I think you should take the role.”

“What?” I’m still reeling that he knew this whole time.

“It’s a good opportunity. It means what we did withOCMworked. You can’t let this chance go.”

“But we said that we were going to—”

“You didn’t want this to be serious between us. Isn’t something like this the reason? So we could be free to take a big opportunity without having to worry about the other person?”

“No.” I shake my head. That wasn’t my intention. That makes it all sound so cold, so calculating. “It was because I didn’t know what I wanted us to be.”

“Now you don’t have to decide,” Minseok points out, drinking the last of his Coke before turning to rinse the can in the sink.

“Are you angry at me?” I can’t help but ask.

He sighs, pressing his hands into the counter to lean on them a moment. As if the effort to hold up his own weight is suddenly too taxing. “There’s a reason you didn’t tell me about the role, isn’t there?”

“I’m sorry—” I start to say, but Minseok stops me.

“I think you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to talk you out of it.”

It feels like he’s putting words in my mouth, but I can’t find the right way to dispute it.

Minseok nods, like he’s taking my silence as confirmation. “I’m just trying to keep this uncomplicated. I messed up once with you when I pushed you away for my career. I’m telling you that I’m okay if you choose yours now.”

This past week, I’d been avoiding even thinking about the role. Or what I was going to do about it. But suddenly, hearing Minseok tell me to take it, to leave him, I feel a cold flash of fear. I don’t think I can do this. “What if I stay? Can’t we—”

“What?” He does turn now, incredulity flashing across his handsome features. “Are you seriously talking about giving up something so big? For what? A non-relationship?”

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