Nathaniel and I are trending on all the major sites, sometimes separately, sometimes together. In a panicked flurry, I skim article after article, not exactly sure what I’m searching for but feeling as if my stomach will drop at any moment. Besides the one voted to the top of the site, they’re all mostly informative articles—what happened on the episode, my background and age—rather than mean-spirited gossip. Even the top article’s headline is clickbait; the actual article is a recap of the episode. The comments section is the real test. But as I scroll, these also seem harmless, and my heart starts to resume a steady rhythm.
In fact, the comments are amusing. The top comment, the one with the most likes, says they’re like that high school couple that everyone admires.
I scroll to read more. They look so good in high school uniforms.
I know everyone’s here envying Min Sori, but I envy Nathaniel.
I think I need to learn to play an instrument.
Then I see a comment that makes me almost drop my phone. Remember Lee Jihyuk’s dating scandal when XOXO first debuted? The girl was never named, but they said she was a trainee at Joah. What if it was Min Sori?
The comment only has ten likes. Still, it’s on the front page of comments, for everyone to read.
Beneath it someone’s replied, Don’t spread rumors without proof. That would mean they’re flaunting their relationship. That would be too brazen of them both. This comment has twenty-eight likes.
And now the anxiety is back but tenfold. I have to talk to someone about this. I could text Gi Taek and Angela, but there’s only one person I need right now. I open up my chat with Nathaniel, reading back our messages from last night. Jaewoo and I just got to the apartment. Try not to wake up Hyemi with your snoring.
I don’t snore!
How do you know? I didn’t warrant this with a response.
I type in the chat box, then press Send. Have you seen the articles? I wait for him to read my message, but when the “1” remains beside his name, indicating he hasn’t read it, I text him again. Can you call me when you see this?
I hurriedly open my chat with Jaewoo. Nathaniel isn’t answering his texts.
Jaewoo’s response is immediate. He went to KS.
Of course. He’s been going there every day to work with one of their artists. I remember he’d told me they confiscate visitors’ phones, which explains why he isn’t messaging me back.
I sit back in my chair. I could wait for him to come home later tonight—I glance at the clock on the wall—six hours from now. Or I could . . . go to him.
My heart starts to race at the reckless thought. And yet waiting until tonight, stewing alone while my thoughts spiral out of control, feels unbearable.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I request a taxi through the app on my phone.
Even if this plan is impulsive, at least I’m doing something. I quickly change out of my pajamas, checking the app to see the driver is five minutes away. I’ve enough time to put on sunscreen and light makeup before rushing outside the gate.
I greet the driver and settle into the back seat of the taxi, having already input the address in the app. I resist the urge to scroll through more articles, as that’ll only make my anxiety worse.
The taxi drops me off outside KS Entertainment. As I stare at the company’s intimidating edifice—the building is huge, twice the size of Joah, all clean, dark glass—I realize I have no way of getting inside. A few fans linger outside the building, posing cutely and taking selcas.
An unassuming man approaches the front entrance, waving his keycard over the scanner, which lights up green, granting him access.
I could throw my weight around and say that I’m the daughter of Seo Min Hee, but that information might get back to my mother, who would not be pleased that I’m at KS, practically in enemy territory.
A black car pulls up to the curb, and the back seat window shifts downward.
“Sori?” My father looks out at me from the window.
I’m so shocked to see him that I don’t immediately respond. His offices aren’t near this part of the city. “Abeoji?” I say finally. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a meeting with CEO Cha.” He doesn’t elaborate, likely because the reasons for meeting KS Entertainment’s CEO might not be entirely ethical. “What are you . . . ?”
“I . . .” I struggle for a lie, my eyes landing on the Starbucks down the street. “I met a friend for coffee, but she left already.”
“I see,” he says, rubbing his clean-shaven chin. “Actually, I’m glad that I’ve run into you. CEO Cha’s nephew is the man I wish for you to meet. It might also benefit you to know CEO Cha, as well. Why don’t you get in the car, and we’ll go through together?”
This seems like both the answer to my problem and a terrible idea. Still, I walk around to the other side, slipping into the back seat.
Secretary Lee maneuvers the car to the back of the building, where a security guard lets us through into an underground garage. He drops my father and I off outside the indoor entrance before parking the car on a lower level.
CEO Cha’s secretary is there to greet us, bowing and opening the door to the front lobby. She leads us to the security desk where a guard offers us a tray in which to place our phones. “My apologies, but it’s company policy for all visitors,” she explains.
“Of course,” my father says, relinquishing his phone easily.
As the guard opens a drawer to secure our phones, I catch a glimpse of Nathaniel’s tucked among the rest.
“CEO Cha is finishing up another meeting at the moment,” the KS secretary says politely. “Would you like a tour of the building meanwhile?”
“That’s not necessary—” my father begins.
“I’d love that!” I interrupt. Once I’m ensconced with my father and CEO Cha, I probably won’t have a chance to look for Nathaniel.
“You go on ahead,” my father says. “Is there a place where I can wait?”
“Yes, follow me.” She leads my father past security. When she returns, I walk behind her to the nearest elevator bank, watching with frustration as she presses the button for the basement floor.
Nathaniel won’t be there. He’ll be in one of the recording studios on an upper level.
The layout of KS is similar to Joah, with music, vocal practice, and dance practice rooms on the lower levels, and the recording studios, meeting rooms, and offices on the upper levels.
Like Joah, KS has photographs of their talent decorating the walls. Along with recording artists, they also represent actors and actresses. The last photograph at the end of a particularly long hall is the promotional poster for Springtime Blossom, with the lead actress, Lee Byeol, gazing up lovingly into the eyes of her costar, who plays a man who was once an alien cat from another planet. Also, he’s a time traveler.
As we step off the elevator on the third floor, the secretary’s ringtone goes off. She glances down at the screen with a frown. “I need to take this. Will you be all right by yourself? Feel free to look around.”
“Yes.” I nod, but she’s already walking away, her phone to her ear.
I step back onto the elevator and press the button for the eighth floor. After peeking into a few of the empty rooms, I quickly realize this isn’t the floor I’m searching for. Heading back toward the elevator, I catch sight of my father down the hall. He’s walking toward me, deep in conversation with another man, presumably CEO Cha. Darting forward, I push open a door that leads into a stairwell and hurry down to the floor below.
This time it’s CEO Cha’s secretary approaching from down the hall, peering into rooms as if in search of me. I feel like I’m on another episode of Catch Me If You Can. Grabbing the nearest doorknob, I slip through into a room, closing the door quietly behind me. I let out a sigh in relief.
“Sori?”
I whip around. Nathaniel’s seated behind a large mixing console, his eyes wide in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you alone?” I ask, hurrying over to him. A window separates the control from the recording studio, but the lights are shut off.
He eyes my approach. “Yeah . . .”
“I needed to talk to you. I tried texting you, but then I remembered you were at KS.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know if you saw this morning, but our names are trending together after last night’s episode. A lot of the articles are harmless, but some of them are about us . . .” I blush. “Dating.”
“Did you see anything we need to let Joah know about?” I know why he’s asking. If the articles are vitriolic . . . or defamatory, then Joah would have to take legal action.
“No. They’re mostly just clickbait, but . . . I’m worried. What if it escalates?”
Nathaniel seems to consider my question, his brow furrowed. “There’s no reason to worry,” he says slowly, “as long as there’s no truth to the rumors.”
He’s right. Lots of celebrities are paired together, but nothing comes of it because it’s not true.
“Even if they find out that we dated in the past,” Nathaniel says, “that was a while ago. It’s only a scandal if we’re dating now.”
His words sink into me, and I can feel the tension from this morning leave my shoulders.
Maybe I didn’t have to come all the way here to see him—I could have waited until he came home—but I also feel so much better now than I had before.
“What are you doing?” I ask. Now that I can concentrate on more than just the articles, I realize I’ve practically barged into Nathaniel’s workplace.
“I just finished arranging the music for the track,” he says. “We’re going to bring in the artist soon to record the vocals. Do you want to . . . listen?”
“Yes!”
Nathaniel laughs, standing. I take his seat, sinking down into the cushioned chair. Picking up the large headphones, he places them over my ears.
After a few seconds, music floods through the speakers—the track that the vocalist will sing over, carrying the melody.
“You composed this?” I say, then blush, remembering how I was shocked when I discovered he was taking a class, but I’m not shocked now. I’m just so . . . impressed. And proud.
He nods, his smile shy but confident.
“It’s incredible!” I shout over the speakers. I listen to the entirety of the track, then ask him to start it over for me again.
“Producer Nathaniel,” I say, once it finishes playing for the second time. “What made you want to produce?”
He leans back against the console. “Maybe it’s because I come from a big family, or because I’m part of an idol group, but sometimes I want to create something that’s just my own.”
I’d never thought he felt this way, but it makes sense; how, though he has a family that loves him and members that support him, he’d want to have his own accomplishments, be judged on his own merits.
“I can understand why you’d see yourself as part of a group,” I say. “I see myself as my mother’s daughter. For what it’s worth, I’ve always seen you for you.” Although he’s a part of XOXO, he’s stood apart to me, the only one I see.
I look away, embarrassed at the turn of my thoughts.
“I’m envious, though. You’re passionate about so many things, not just with XOXO and your family but also music producing and your university class. I seem to be lacking in not only passion but direction. Even helping Hyemi, I don’t know if I’m the best person for the job.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Nathaniel says. “Who’s better suited to help Hyemi than you? Someone who’s grown up in this industry. Maybe you can’t make Hyemi into an idol like those who’ve trained for ten years, but you’re helping make the transition for her as smooth as possible. And maybe while working with her, you’ll find something you are interested in.”
“Gi Taek and Angela think I’d make a great stylist or dance instructor,” I quip.
“You would,” Nathaniel says seriously, his voice intent. “But I think there’s something else for you. Something better for you.”
Nathaniel’s eyes are dark as he looks down at me where I sit at the edge of the chair.
The way he looks at me. The way he makes me feel. His belief in me. It’s like a drug, heady and intoxicating. My limbs feel weak and yet my blood runs hot, and all I want to do is reach up and bring his face closer to mine, until there’s nothing left between us.
“Nathaniel?”
A woman stands in the doorway. I’ve been so absorbed in him and our conversation that I hadn’t even noticed the arrival of another person.
I recognize her—Naseol, the lead singer of KS’s third-generation girl group. She must be the artist Nathaniel’s collaborating with.
I stand and bow, which Naseol returns politely.
“This is my friend . . .” Nathaniel introduces me.
“Min Sori, right? The model from last night’s episode of Catch Me If You Can. I was rooting for Team Delinquents, by the way.” She winks. “No wonder you two have such great chemistry . . .”
Neither Nathaniel nor I move. Had she seen something between us?
“You’re friends in real life. Did you invite her to the studio, Jihyuk-ah?”
“I came with my father,” I hurriedly explain. “He’s . . . an acquaintance of CEO Cha. Actually, they’re both waiting for me. I should probably go.”
“Ah, I see,” she says, and she truly looks regretful. “It was nice meeting you.”
Later, sitting with my father and CEO Cha, listening to them discuss business and the innumerous accomplishments of CEO Cha’s nephew, I think of Nathaniel and Naseol in the studio, and how I wish I was with them instead.