I’m transferred to a small cozy clinic for the night—on recommendation by the medic—while the rest of the crew heads to Seoul. Since Secretary Park remains behind with me, Ji Seok offers to drive Hyemi back with Nathaniel and Sun. Secretary Park has to threaten me with calling my mother to get me to agree to stay.
“You’re no help to Hyemi if you faint again,” she insists.
She’s right, of course. It’s just that, tomorrow is ASAP’s debut, and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly. I know there’s a whole team to ensure that. But Hyemi is my responsibility, my mother entrusted me with her, and I want to see her journey through to the end.
Though it’s really the beginning.
The beginning of her life as an idol. The beginning of my life, the one I chose for myself, where I can pursue whatever it is that I want. Though for now, I would like to work on ASAP’s team awhile longer. There’s so much still to do, from preparing for their promotion cycle to their full-length album. Director Ryu, the other day, spoke about album design and concepts.
Even if I can’t spend the whole of today with Hyemi and the others, at least I’ll make it to the showcase. Also, there’s the surprise party afterward, which a few junior staff members and I planned. The ASAP girls aren’t aware of it, and I’m looking forward to their reactions.
The next morning, the clinic’s doctor, a sweet grandmother-type whose elderly patients visit more for gossip than ailments, teaches me Go—with her own board and set of distinct black and white playing stones—while we wait for my blood results to come back clear. After I’m discharged, it’s another three-hour train ride to Seoul. I only have time to go home, shower, and change before I have to head to the arena.
The house is empty, with Ajumma having gone to her daughter’s home, and Nathaniel having spent the night at Sun’s—he couldn’t exactly ask Ji Seok to drop him off at my house. On the car ride over to the arena, I send Nathaniel a text message. I’m having a surprise party for the ASAP members after the showcase. I give him the name and address of the restaurant. Do you think you can make it?
A few minutes later, my phone chirps with his response: I’ll be there.
My heart races at the thought of seeing him.
Last night, when we fell asleep holding hands, something passed between us. I feel that if I don’t say something soon, then he might.
If my mother comes to the party—Secretary Park let me know there’s a possibility—then I can talk to her. I could tell Nathaniel my feelings as early as tonight.
What will he say? What will he do?
I take a deep breath, lowering my phone. If I keep on thinking about what might happen with Nathaniel, it’s all I’ll think about, so I push those thoughts to the back of my mind. Tonight is about Hyemi, ASAP, and the entire team at Joah.
I send the same text, inviting the rest of the XOXO members.
The venue for the showcase is at Sowon arena, which like the hotel with the same name, is owned by Sun’s grandfather’s company, TK Group. Sowon is normally used to host sporting events, but last night and this morning, it was transformed into a concert arena, outfitted with a stage and over two thousand five hundred seats. Tickets for the showcase were available through a random raffle system, all of which were claimed within an hour of its posting.
Hyemi’s already dressed in her performance outfit when I find her, wearing a corset over a loose white dress, her long, light brown hair braided into a crown atop her head.
“Seonbae!” Hyemi shouts over the noise of the crowded dressing room. “You’re here! Are you sure you’re feeling okay, though? Nathaniel told me what happened.”
“I’m fine. What about you? That corset isn’t too tight, is it?” I pull at the top, and I see that it’s made of a stretchy fabric instead of the more structured material of my mermaid costume.
She laughs at my concern, her eyes twinkling. “You’re so funny, Seonbae.” I’d expected her to be more nervous, but she’s glowing.
“Are the members ready?” a voice calls from the doorway. “They need to be on stage in fifteen minutes.”
“I have to go to the bathroom!” Jiyoo, dressed in a flouncy dress that hits her knees, shouts. “Do I have time to go to the bathroom?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, racing off.
A makeup artist grabs Hyemi, pulling her toward the Broadway mirrors where one of the other members is finishing up with hair and makeup.
Another member practices choreography in the back of the room, while another stands in front of a pedestal fan, nervously chugging from her water bottle. When she sees Jiyoo sprint past, she stops drinking, her eyes going wide and dropping to her bottle in horror.
The camera crew that’s filming ASAP’s documentary captures every messy, excitement-inducing moment.
“Min Sori-ssi?” Director Ryu’s assistant stands to the side. “We’re having a bit of an issue. Director Ryu said you might be able to help. Could you come with me for a second?”
I check one last time on Hyemi—she’s holding hands with one of the other members, talking to her excitedly—and follow Director Ryu’s assistant to another room where a group of staff members surround a couch. Sitting on it, sobbing uncontrollably, is Sun Ye.
“What going on?” I say, alarmed.
Director Ryu gestures me over to the side. She doesn’t appear worried, like the others. “I think she just needs someone to talk to. It’s hard being the leader. Can I leave Sun Ye in your hands?”
I nod, though I don’t know why she thinks I’m the one who should speak to Sun Ye.
“I think . . .” Director Ryu says, apparently able to read my mind, “you might understand her better than anyone else.”
She turns toward the room. “Can everyone leave for a few minutes?”
As the room empties, I pick up a mug and fill it with hot water from the dispenser, then bring it over to Sun Ye.
“Sun Ye-yah,” I say, sitting down beside her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”
“I’m sorry, Sori-yah.” She sniffles. “I don’t think I can do this.”
I might have expected nerves from Hyemi or Jiyoo, the youngest members, but not Sun Ye. Not just because she’s the oldest and has trained the longest, but because she’s always so confident, at least outwardly so. But I should know better than most that people often say what they don’t mean.
“Tell me,” I say.
“It’s too much responsibility. What if I fail the other members? I’m supposed to be their leader, but what if I’m terrible at it? And I’m so much older than everyone else. I already read an article that said I raised the average age of the group by a year.”
The urge to find whoever posted that and yell at them over the internet is overwhelming.
“Have you been thinking these thoughts for a while?” I ask. “You should have told someone.”
“I didn’t want them to kick me off the team.”
“They wouldn’t have. Director Ryu and the others understand how tough it is, especially as the group’s leader.”
Sun Ye shakes her head, her thumb circling the rim of the mug.
I take a deep breath, thinking of what I would want to hear if I were in Sun Ye’s shoes. Director Ryu asked me specifically to speak with her for a reason. I think you might understand her better than anyone else.
“We’ve been here the longest, you and I. This industry isn’t easy, and it’s always tougher on girls. Strangers judge us because we’re too old, because we’re too fat, because we’re too smart, but that’s why this industry needs you, so that people can look at you and see how beautiful and talented you are. How stubborn and insecure—”
“I thought you were complimenting me,” Sun Ye sniffs.
“And realize that maybe you’re not the most perfect idol in the world but that doesn’t mean you’re not perfect for the fan who will need you the most.”
As a fan myself, that’s how I feel. It’s the feeling of when you connect to that one special person in a group and they become a comfort to you, someone you can admire from afar and cheer on. After today, Sun Ye will become that person for so many people, as will Hyemi and the other ASAP members.
“You’re going to bring so much joy and comfort to thousands of people,” I say. “Maybe even millions. That’s what being an idol is.”
“My makeup is all messed up,” Sun Ye says, dabbing a tissue at her eyes.
“We’ll get one of the makeup artists in here,” I reassure her. “I saw at least five in the hall just now.”
“Thanks, Sori-yah. You would have made a great idol, you know.”
“Maybe. But I think I’m a little too selfish. I want to make myself happy first, and I want to give myself only to a few people, not everyone.”
For a long time, I thought I was the opposite, that I wanted to bring joy to as many people as possible, because then they would love me in return. But I realized that’s not me. I’m content being loved and appreciated by the few people who I love and appreciate. That’s enough for me.
Sun Ye takes my hand, squeezing. “The people you give yourself to are lucky, Min Sori.”
I call one of the makeup artists into the room and wait until Sun Ye is ready before following her out.
The other ASAP members have already headed to the stage, so I make my way to the back of the arena, where I’ll be able to watch the stage with the rest of the audience. I could watch from one of the monitors backstage, but I want to experience the performance, as if I were one of the fans. Because I am.
On my way, I catch sight of Hyemi’s father seated among other important-looking people in business suits, my mother among them. Like before, I notice the dark circles beneath her eyes, though she’s managed to cover them well with concealer. Has Hyemi’s father signed the contract? If he hasn’t already, then tomorrow, for sure.
The MC walks onstage to welcome the audience. ASAP will perform two songs during the showcase, their title track and their B side, a mellow pop song called “Blue Heart.”
The back part of the stage opens, revealing all six members standing together—as a group, they create a beautiful silhouette. Then the first notes of “Wake Up” begin to play and the audience erupts into cheers.
At first, I’m nervous, but it soon becomes clear that all their hard work paid off because their movements are clean, as if they’ve danced this choreography hundreds of times, because they have. They transform on stage, leaving behind all their insecurities and worries. Sun Ye gives no hint that she was crying only minutes before, her expression fearless. Timid, sweet Jiyoo is a monster with the choreography, attacking every move, and Hyemi . . .
Hyemi is a flirt! She teases the audience, her eye contact with the cameras unparalleled, her confidence mesmerizing.
Like the crowd, I’m entirely swept away with their performance.
Staring at the ASAP members, I search my heart for any lingering feelings I might have over my decision not to debut. I told Sun Ye I didn’t want to be an idol, but is there a part of me that wishes I’d stuck to that path, that feels . . . regret?
The answer comes to me, clear and without doubt: I don’t.
All I feel is happiness for the girls, and pride in myself, that I helped get Hyemi this far. And I know that even if I’m not in the group, I’ll be a part of ASAP forever.
The happiness spreads outward, and it feels almost like a presence around me, echoed back to me by the energy of the crowd.
It rises within me like a wave, a feeling so powerful it makes me feel powerful, like I can have everything—a career that gives me purpose, friends that give me strength, and Nathaniel. I can have him, as well.
At the end of the performance, when the audience cheers, I think my voice might be the loudest.