Page 49 of Wish Upon a K-Star

I nod, grateful, but also worried that they won’t be able to do much. He isn’t breaking any laws. Technically. I might have to wait in the building all day before I can leave.

I’m also embarrassed. Other artists don’t cause this kind of trouble to the company. I wonder if I’ll ever be free from this kind of hate. And if not, when will the company finally reach their limit when it comes to me?

The front desk guard opens one of the glass security gates for me with a polite nod. I can barely return the greeting as I keep my head down. I hate that this keeps happening to me. I hate that they keep witnessing it. I wonder if they will talk about it after. They must. Who wouldn’t? If I didn’t know how much gossip can truly hurt, I’d do it too. It’s human nature.

Luckily, there’s no one else in the elevator bank and I snag one alone. Finally able to lean against the back bar and settle my nerves.

“You’re going to be okay. You have things to do here. You can wait for him to leave. One anti doesn’t matter.” Except Kwak Dongha represents hundreds of faceless keyboard warriors who say so much worse behind their anonymity. He’s just the one who’s willing to show up and harass me in person.

The doors of the elevator open, and I start out before I realize it’s not my floor. I step back to let the others on, smoothing out my shirt and putting a polite smile on my face. It drops when I see Minseok with two of the younger producers. Thankfully, they don’t stop talking just because I’m here, and I slide to the corner, trying to make myself as small as I can.

Minseok doesn’t even glance at me as he listens to one of the producers explain the jazz concept of the sample.

“It sounds like his thing, but I thought he was leaning more hip-hop and R&B?”

“Yeah, we know.”

Minseok laughs and from my angle I can see the corners of his eyes crinkle. Dammit, why does he have to be so effortlessly attractive? I hate him for it even as I keep sneaking peeks.

“So, you already pitched it to him and he said no.”

“We just thought you could at least get him to listen to it.” The second producer holds out a flash drive.

Minseok sighs like it’s the biggest burden, but he takes the drive. “Next night of drinks on you, not some pocha. A nice bar.”

“Done!” the first producer says, patting Minseok on the shoulder. “You’re the best, Minseok-ah.”

“I know.” Minseok shrugs, his grin widening, and I hate that it makes his eyes practically sparkle with charm.

The doors open on my floor, and I squeeze past the group, scurrying away to the safety of the empty hallway.

But after the elevator doors ding to signal closing, I hear someone call my name.

My throat clogs with fear as I hear an echo of Kwak Dongha saying my name outside. But when I turn, it’s Minseok jogging toward me. “Hey! We should talk.”

“Why?” I turn into the small kitchenette on this floor, the closest place I can think to escape him. I’m still on edge from the confrontation in front of the building, and I don’t think I can handle Minseok’s irritating brand of teasing right now.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the hint and follows me. “It’s for the show.”

Dammit, why’d he have to bring that up? I feel like I’m required to listen now since it has to do with work. I didn’t realize that agreeing to do this show would give him a tool to control me with.

“Fine,” I say as I throw open the slim fridge, pretending this is the reason I came in here.

Minseok reaches past me for a Coke. It traps me between him and the fridge. Even though he already has his drink, he roots around, then plucks up a bottled iced Americano. He hands it to me. “This is your brand, right?”

It’s what I probably would have picked, but I’m annoyed enough to put it back. “That’s not what I want,” I say, and pick out a Pocari Sweat instead. I don’t really love the taste of it, but I hate that Minseok assumes he knows me. Even if he does.

He just shrugs and settles at one of the three small tables, opening his own soda. “So, I think we should decide what to call each other.”

“What?” I frown. “Why?”

“Robbie and Jaehyung thought it was weird, and the fans seem to agree. We should decide what to call each other.”

“Why can’t I just call you Sunbae?”

“When have you ever called me that?” Minseok laughs.

I hate the idea that he’s laughing at me. So, I reply defensively. “I call you that all the time.”On broadcast.

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