The next morning, Secretary Park picks me up in front of my house to take me to my meeting with my mother. All night I’ve stewed over what I’ll say to her, with Gi Taek and Angela’s strategy in mind about having an alternative plan to offer her. The problem is, I don’t have a career path that I’m passionate about. I like dancing and fashion, but that doesn’t mean I want to be a choreographer or a stylist.
“Do you know what my mother wants to talk about?” I ask Secretary Park, buckling my seat belt. As my mother’s right-hand woman, she’s the closest person to my mother. She’d have the best insight into what she’s planning.
“She told me a little,” Secretary Park hedges, having as much trouble maneuvering down the hill as the driver a few days ago.
“Is it something I’ll be pleased about?” Though, perhaps that’s not the right question to ask. I’ve also kept Secretary Park in the dark about what it is I want, or at least don’t want.
Secretary Park glances at me in the rearview mirror before returning her gaze to the road. “It’s something you’re good at.”
Joah Entertainment is in the same neighborhood as my old high school. As we pass by the Seoul Arts Academy entrance, I watch as students rush through the gates, a teacher checking to make sure everyone’s uniforms meet regulation. One student bounces on one foot as she pulls up her knee sock, while another adjusts his tie in one hand, gripping his backpack with the other. They bow to the teacher who waves them through.
Secretary Park pulls into the garage beneath the building, and we take the elevator to the first floor, where we go through security before entering the main part of the building. From there, we take another elevator to the fifth floor where the smaller meeting rooms are located.
My palms are sweaty and I wipe them on the skirt of my dress—I’m wearing a white knitwear one-piece with golden buttons. Chic, classic. Something my mother would approve of.
She’s already waiting in the room when we arrive, dressed in a light pink silk double jacket and matching slim-leg pants. I’m surprised to find that she’s not alone but with a girl I’ve never seen before. She’s tall and pretty, in jeans and a loose top with butterfly sleeves. Her long light brown hair is pinned back with large pearl clips.
“Sori-yah,” my mother says, catching my eye, “this is Woo Hyemi, the daughter of a new business partner.”
I pick up on her warning. Hyemi is the daughter of someone important, someone my mother needs to impress.
I’m reminded of Jeon Sojin, the daughter of the CEO of Hankook Electric, from the restaurant in New York, but push that thought to the back of my mind, pasting on a smile instead. “It’s nice to meet you.”
My mother visibly relaxes. “Hyemi was born in Canada, though she’s spent a few summers with her father’s family here in Korea.”
I look closer at Hyemi, noting her mixed heritage. She has a resemblance to Kim You Jung, the actress, with round eyes and soft lips.
“My mother is French Canadian,” Hyemi says. Her voice is bright, cheerful, breaking endearingly on her words.
“You know about Joah’s recent acquisition of Dream Music . . .” my mother begins.
Dream Music, a smaller entertainment company, was acquired by Joah at the end of last year, the deal finalized earlier this month. It would retain its own CEO and staff but would continue forward as a label under Joah.
“They were preparing to debut ASAP, a new girl group, at the beginning of this year. The acquisition delayed their debut by a few months, which actually worked to our benefit, as we’re adding a few of our own girls as members to the group. Sun Ye . . .” She mentions another Joah trainee, one who’s been at the company for as long as I have. “And Hyemi.” She places a hand on Hyemi’s shoulder. “And you.”
This is the moment I’ve been dreading, and yet all the speeches I’d brainstormed the night before fly from my head. I hadn’t expected any plan for my debut to be so finalized, or so . . . soon.
“You, of course, would be the leader,” my mother continues blithely, “as you have the most experience. And Hyemi will make the perfect maknae to balance the group. However, because of unforeseen circumstances, we need to push up the date of the debut showcase, which is newly scheduled for two weeks from now. Which brings me to the most important part of this whole endeavor, and why I had you two meet before introducing you both to the rest of the members.”
My mother’s gaze focuses entirely on me. “Hyemi hasn’t had any formal training, and I need you to guide her so that she’s ready in time for the showcase. She’ll need help learning the choreography for the title track, as well as adjusting to the team. There are four girls coming from Dream, and of course you and Sun Ye are already familiar with each other. But I think our Hyemi here will need a little more help, not just because she hasn’t trained as long as the others, but there’s also the matter of language and culture . . .”
“Can I talk to you in private for a minute?” I interrupt.
My mother blinks. “Of course.” She then turns to reassure the younger girl. “Hyemi-yah, I’m going to talk to Sori and then I’ll be right back.”
Hyemi nods, though as we walk away, she glances at me with a questioning look.
Once we’re out of earshot, my mother doesn’t waste any breath, her voice returning to its normal clipped quality. “This might come as a bit of a surprise, but the acquisition of Dream Music and the renovations on the new building were more costly than was estimated by our financial advisors.”
My heart drops. “You said it wasn’t true that the company was in trouble.”
“It’s not true. Woo Hyemi’s father has promised to make a sizable investment.” There’s a significant pause. “With the caveat that his daughter debuts as an idol.”
The whole picture is starting to come together. Why Hyemi’s involvement is so integral to ASAP’s success—her father is bankrolling her debut—and why, to secure his investment, the showcase needs to occur as soon as possible.
“Is she talented?” I ask. “Can she sing?”
“Her father assures me she can.”
I raise a single eyebrow at that, a trait I ironically picked up from her.
“Sori, I’m already under enough stress as it is.” She presses her fingers to the sides of her temples, massaging the skin there. “You’re the only person I can trust with this.”
Warmth floods my chest, that she would trust me with something so important.
“We acquired Dream Music knowing they already had plans to form a girl group. It just so happens that Woo Hyemi would make a wonderful addition. You, as well. You’re soon to be nineteen, the perfect age to debut.”
I have to tell her. I can’t put it off any longer. It’s now or never. “There’s something I need to tell you. I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid . . .” Of disappointing you. Of making you feel as if I was taking away your dream, for the second time. “The truth is I don’t want to debut anymore.”
My mother blinks slowly. “What?”
I’m more certain now than ever. If my mind hadn’t already been made up, the churning of my gut since I walked into the room tells me everything I need to know.
“But I think I can still help Hyemi,” I quickly go on. “In fact, I know I can, and I’ll be in a better position to help her if I’m not debuting myself, as I can concentrate entirely on her.”
But my mother’s already shaking her head. “Sori, you’re being rash. Even with the truncated timeline, this is still an opportunity of a lifetime. So many young girls would give anything for the same chance.”
“I know all that, and I still don’t want it. This isn’t a decision I came to overnight. How can you believe that of me, when I’ve been training to become an idol for practically my whole life?”
“I can’t just let you make this decision on your own. How do you know if this is what you really want?”
“I know it’s what I don’t want.”
I take a deep breath, gearing up for what I’m about to say next. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions, with you on one side, and Abeoji on the other, and the pressure of that can be . . . a lot sometimes. I don’t know what it is I want yet, but I want to be able to choose for myself.” It’s the most honest I’ve been with my mother in months, maybe years. I always go along with what either she or my father wants, not wishing to pull on the already tenuous threads of our family, but I needed to say this, for myself.
“I can’t speak for your father,” my mother says slowly, “but if you manage to do this—and it won’t be easy—like I said, Hyemi hasn’t any formal training and there’s also the matter of introducing her to the public—it will prove to me you’re responsible enough to decide what you want for your own life. I won’t stand in the way of that. In fact, I’ll even support you. Financially.”
Then she adds, as if it’s an afterthought, “In all the ways a mother can.”
That couldn’t have been easy for her, as someone who’s as rigid in her work life as she is in her family life. And maybe this conversation would have gone a lot differently if she also didn’t need me to help Hyemi. But I’m grateful that she’s managed to meet me halfway.
“Then it’s a deal,” I say. “I’ll make Hyemi debut-ready in two weeks.”
“Thank you, Sori.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Let’s have a meal together soon.”
My heart lightens at the prospect. It’s been a while since we shared a meal, just the two of us. “I’d like that.”
On our way back to Hyemi, my mother’s phone lights up. As she moves to take the call, I approach Hyemi on my own. She pulls out her earbuds, standing up from her seat. I catch a few bars of the B side of XOXO’s latest single before it cuts off.
“Hi,” I say in English, nervous now that it’s just the two of us. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, if I’m to help her debut, and I want her to feel comfortable with me. I want her to trust me. “Do you—” I begin, intending to ask her if she likes the single.
I’m interrupted by a knock at the door. A head of highlighter blue pops through the gap.
“Sori-nuna?”
“Choi Youngmin?” I say. I haven’t seen XOXO’s maknae since the summer, as he’d gone back to the hotel in New York City after the concert.
“I thought I heard your voice.” Youngmin swings the door wide.
“What are you doing here?” I laugh, as he reaches me, wrapping me in a hug. He was always the most affectionate of the members, maybe because he’s the youngest. Though, in six months, he’s grown a bit taller, and I can’t help noticing that his chest is rather . . . sturdy. I feel myself blushing a little.
“I’m meeting Ji Seok-hyeong to go over my school schedule,” he says, releasing me.
That’s right. The reason he’d gone back to the hotel after the concert was because he had schoolwork. Which reminds me . . .
I gesture to Hyemi, who’s been watching our entire interaction with wide, starstruck eyes.
“Youngmin-ah, have you met Woo Hyemi? She’s debuting in Joah’s new girl group.” She’s also likely enrolling at the same school as him, Seoul Arts Academy, if she hasn’t already. “Please take care of her as a hoobae and junior.”
Hyemi quickly bows, her forehead hitting the table.
Youngmin laughs. “Are you okay?”
There’s a loud clattering sound. I turn to where my mother has dropped her phone onto the table. She quickly picks it up again.
“Eomma?”
“My apologies, but something’s come up. Sori, will you make sure Hyemi has everything she needs? I have to—” She doesn’t finish the sentence, rushing out the door.
My mouth turns dry as a feeling of premonition sweeps through me. “Youngmin-ah, can you stay with Hyemi for a minute? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure!” He grins, then tilts his head as he regards Hyemi. “How old are you? I think we might be the same age.”
“Sixteen,” she says shyly.
“Great, let’s be friends!” He drops the honorifics, switching to banmal.
I hurry out into the hall. With the way my mother left in a hurry, I have a bad feeling. I’ve been involved in enough scandals to know when one’s about to drop.