Page 31 of Wish Upon a K-Star

I’m shocked enough to lean away from him, but his arm is still tight around my shoulders, unyielding. And the motion instead pushes the swing out from under us. We both go toppling down into the dirt.

Hongjoo hurries over to help me up, but it’s too late. Dirt and grass stains mar the soft pastel colors of my skirt.

“Great! Now we’ll have to take a break for an outfit change.” Mr. Lee shouts. He shoves his camera into the arms of his assistant. “Everyone, be back in fifteen exactly!” He storms off.

I start to ask Minseok what his issue is, but he’s already striding quickly off set.

I chase after him to give him a piece of my mind.

He’s already in his dressing room by the time I catch up, but I grab the door before it closes.

“What the hell is your problem?” I demand.

“Can you give me privacy to change?”

“Canyouget over whatever has crawled up your—” I break off when he gives me a warning glare. But I still don’t fully back down. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but can you just suck it up for one hour?”

“I’m not in the mood today.” He sounds exhausted. It breaks past my anger for a second, making me hesitate. I’ve never seen him look so defeated before. I almost ask what’s wrong. But I stop myself. We don’t have that kind of relationship.

“I don’twantto be here right now,” Minseok says. “So, let’s just get this over with.”

I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. Dry and acrid. “And you thinkIwant to be here?”

“I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.” He suddenly sounds so angry, but I know I haven’t done anything to warrant this vitriol from him.

“Fine. You don’t want to be here and neither do I.” I can’t believe I need to work so hard for his cooperation right now. If this plan doesn’t help smooth over the latest scandal, I’m fairly certain Bright Star is ready to drop me. I can’t let that happen, so I need Minseok to snap out of his mood. “We’re both stuck. That doesn’t mean we have to make it worse for each other. Even prisoners have social agreements between them, right?”

“Wow.” Minseok sounds incredulous. “Things must be really bad for you to think of yourself as a prisoner.”

“Like you care how bad things are.” He’s really starting to annoy me. Why can’t he just agree to cooperate for a few hours? “Why did you even agree to do this if you were just going to complain the whole time?”

Minseok shrugs. “I’m here, aren’t I? Ready to help fix your image.”

“Kaeppul.” I mutter the curse under my breath. “You don’t care about my image. You’re doing this because the festival accident made you look bad too, and WDB is no longer scandal-proof.”

Minseok’s eyes darken. Something I said must have struck a nerve. “I’m not the one constantly caught up in rumors. Maybe I should just leave. Maybe it’ll force you to finally grow up and deal with your own shit instead of using it as an excuse to be a brat.”

The way he says it sounds like he really does think all the scandals are my fault. Like he believes they could be true. It hurts more than anything the gossip articles or anti-fans could do or say to me.

“Wow, okay,” I say slowly, my throat constricting so my voice barely scratches out. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” I move toward the door, but he shifts to block.

Minseok shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“No, you’re totally right,” I say. “I’ll deal with my shit. But don’t get in my way while I’m doing it.”

“Hyeri, please.”

In this moment, if he says anything else I might burst into tears. So, I forgo politeness and push past him to shove out the dressing room door.

Bright Star Entertainment has grown since I became a trainee there.

When I arrived in Seoul six years ago, it was in a small four-story building in Cheongdamdong. But a year ago it moved to a building three times the size in Gangnam. And it’s all thanks to the money WDB brings in.

It’s still fresh enough that whenever an artist from Bright Star goes on a show, the classic joke often told is that WDB pays the rent. And everyone else helps pay for the toilet paper.

We all laugh and act like we’re in on the joke. But I wonder if the other artists also feel like it’s a reminder that we could disappear from Bright Star and they’d still be fine without us. Or maybe it’s just me, the perpetual problem child.

I’m currently in the state-of-the-art salon in the company building. Another new amenity. I hate that I’m dependent on this benefit. When I had to go to a shop before, there was always a chance of antis camping outside to shout and spit. And after the flour-and-egg situation, Hongjoo doesn’t want to take any chances with security.