Shine

by Jessica Jung

  I blink in confusion, looking over my shoulder at the front door. Every instinct in my body is telling me to leave. This isn’t what I was prepared for tonight.

  Jason puts his hand on the back of my elbow, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, Rachel, come join us.” He raises a mischievous eyebrow. “Unless, of course, you have a pajama party to get to.”

  I scowl. Then I straighten up, tossing my braids behind my shoulder. I made it all the way here. I have to at least show my face. If anything, I can’t leave without getting Leah her autograph. “I’d love a drink.”

  The party is already well underway, and I trip over more than a few empty beer cans as I march toward what looks like the bar area, which borders a spacious sunken living room where people are dropping shots of grapefruit soju into beer glasses and downing the whole drink. Someone offers me one and I take it, sipping lightly around the edges of the glass. I’m not exactly a fan of anything that causes people to lose control and embarrass themselves. I’m good enough at that already, apparently.

  “Rachel!” a voice calls from across the room. I tense up. I’d recognize that sickly sweet voice anywhere. Mina appears, looking flawless and party-ready with blown-out hair and sky-high glittery stack heels. She adjusts her miniskirt and crop top while Eunji and Lizzie stand behind her, both decked out in perfectly fitting skinny jeans and tiaras. “So happy you could make it to our training session.” She glances at the other two girls, who quickly cover their mouths with their hands to hide their laughter.

  “Me too,” I chirp back, refusing to back down. “Thanks so much for inviting me.”

  “Cute outfit, Rachel,” Eunji says, folding a piece of gum into her mouth as her eyes flick over my clothes. “Did you borrow it from your little sister?”

  “I love the hair,” Lizzie adds. She reaches over and flicks one of my braids off my shoulder. “What a throwback to elementary school.”

  “You look uncomfortable, Rachel,” Mina says, her face pinching in mock concern. “You don’t feel out of place without Mr. Noh here to take care of you, do you? Surely even Princess Rachel must know how to have fun at a party?”

  Mina takes a sip from her cup and eyes me coolly. I want to snap back, calling her out for being a dirty liar and telling her exactly where she can put her “late-night training session,” but my momentary bravery has run out. Instead, I take another sip from my soju beer mix, wincing at the sour taste, my fist tight around the glass.

  All of a sudden Jason pops up behind me, glancing from me to Mina to the other girls with a small smirk on his lips.

  “Jason!” Mina coos. “I didn’t know you were here! Have you come to find me?” she asks, sipping casually on her drink.

  “Actually, I was looking for Rachel,” Jason answers.

  “Wh-wh-aat?” Mina sputters. “But… how do you know Rachel?” I swear to god, if he brings up the pajamas right now, I will kill him with my bare hands.

  Jason smiles at me. “Oh, we go way back. Me and Rachel and Woodstock.” Mina opens her mouth to respond, but right then Jason puts his hands on my shoulders, turning me abruptly and guiding us deeper into the party.

  “I’ll have you know, it was Snoopy on my pants, not Woodstock. Woodstock is the dopey little bird. Snoopy is the loyal dog–slash–airplane pilot,” I say, laughing as we plop down on a couch in the corner of the room.

  Jason nods in mock seriousness, draping his arm over my shoulder and pulling me close. “You’re right. Clearly Snoopy is the superior choice in sleepwear. Forgive me? I was just trying to make a quick exit.”

  I shoot him a look. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we were surrounded by three girls who were all staring at you like they wanted to rip your face off,” he says, his breath warm against my skin. “Relocation seemed like a good idea.”

  The soju is warming its way through my body, and I smile. “Well, you know what they say.”

  “What do they say, Werewolf Girl?”

  “The more people stare at you, the more you must be worth staring at.” I giggle, and a tiny burp escapes my mouth. My eyes go wide, and I clap a hand over my mouth as Jason looks on, utterly delighted. He pulls me closer to him on the couch, so that my legs are practically on top of his. My mind is whirring—Is this really happening? I definitely should not be flirting with Jason right now. That’s basically asking to end up like Suzy Choi. Not that she had a boyfriend. Not that Jason is my boyfriend. Oh my god, what am I thinking? There’s no way I’m asking him for an autograph for Leah now.… I close my eyes, trying to press pause on the soju-induced monologue running through my head.

  Minjun flops down dramatically on the couch next to me, his copper-colored hair sweeping over his eyes. “I’m bored.” He pouts. “And hungry.”

  Jason rolls his eyes at his friend, shifting so that his arms are no longer around me. A shiver courses through my body involuntarily, and I hike the sleeves of my sweater top up over my shoulders to stay warm. “Why don’t you go see what the chefs left in the kitchen for dinner?” he says diplomatically.

  “The only thing to eat in that kitchen is kale and spinach smoothies. You remember how they starved us in our trainee days!” Minjun sniffed the air. “Do you guys smell chicken?”

  I gulp, remembering the Tupperware Umma packed before I left the house. I reach gingerly into my bag. “Um, do you mean this chicken?” I say, embarrassed.

  “Ah-ssa!” Minjun shouts, ripping the box out of my hands and opening it. “Two Two Fried Chicken! My favorite! Jason, this girl is really okay.”

  Jason laughs and Minjun starts inhaling my leftovers, two pieces at a time.

  Across the room, I can feel as Mina watches the three of us, her narrowed eyes flashing. Her phone beeps, and she pulls it out of her bag, scowling at something on the screen. She shows it to Lizzie and Eunji, and they both grimace, frowning down at her. Then she stuffs the phone back into her bag and jumps up, rearranging her face into a perfect smile. She claps her hands lightly, bouncing up and down. “Attention, party people! The time has come for girl bonding, trainees only!” she exclaims. “You know what that means.… All you non-trainees, out! That goes double for the boys! Even you, Jason—if you can manage to tear yourself away from Princess Rachel.” She smirks at us.

  Minjun wipes his greasy chicken fingers on his jeans before grabbing Jason’s hands, pulling him up. “Come on, Jay-Star, let’s go hit that new club in Itaewon.”

  Jason bends down and murmurs “Good luck” into my ear, sending shivers along my spine again. He jumps over the back of the couch and joins his friends, singing the chorus from “Fake Crush” as they disappear into the street.

  Oh shit. Leah’s autograph. I jump up, intent on running after him, but between the soju and unexpectedly spending my night flirting with Jason, my head is spinning and I flop back down on the couch at the same moment that Mina sits next to me, holding two glasses filled with champagne. Around us, all the other girls are pouring themselves glasses too, squealing as the champagne fizzes over the rim and drips onto their hands.

  “A toast,” Mina says, handing me a glass. When I don’t take it right away, she sighs, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Rachel. Loosen up, will you? We’re all just trying to have a little fun together.”

  Fun. I have to admit, even though this night is nothing like what I thought it would be, I am having fun. I purse my lips and set down my beer to take the champagne glass.

  Mina grins and raises her drink, turning to the other girls. “To our family! And to becoming the next biggest, brightest stars in Korea!”

  The girls cheer, linking arms and clinking glasses before downing their champagne in one gulp. I drink a little slower, the liquid burning my throat way more than I expected. I nearly cough it up, but I don’t want to give Mina the satisfaction of seeing me choke. I tip the glass up, forcing myself to drink the whole thing.

  I sink into the couch as the girls around me chatter away, pouring themselves more and more champagne. I look around the
house, wishing Akari were here with me so I would have someone to talk to. I grab my phone to text her, but my fingers feel thick and uncoordinated and I fumble with the straps on my bag until I give up. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. My hand is cold from the champagne glass, and I press it into my face, relishing the chill. I drank too much. No, I drank too fast. Everything is spinning. Eunji’s loud voice is ringing in my ears, and the music is starting to sound like it’s playing in slow motion. I look at Mina, who’s still sitting next to me… and there are two of her. I’m seeing double. I try to blink away the nightmare.

  I fall deeper into the couch, my head growing fuzzier with each second. I see Mina’s blurry faces leaning in close to mine. “It worked! She’ll never be chosen now.” Chosen? What is she talking about? “Earth to Rachel! You look like you could use some fresh air, Princess.” Her voice swirls slowly around me, but I can’t find the energy to respond.

  Eunji and Lizzie circle around me, laughing and sipping from their glasses. “Pretty little Princess Rachel—even Mr. Noh can’t save you now,” Lizzie gloats.

  I hear it all like I’m at the bottom of a swimming pool. Somebody says something, and I start laughing, too—uncontrollably—though I have no idea why.

  “Come on, Princess. Let’s dance!” Eunji is pulling me to standing, and I’m still laughing—or she is—or both. I’m not sure. Through my lashes, which suddenly seem heavy, I see Mina hovering not too far away, but not dancing. Her phone is pointed in my direction, and she’s wearing an evil smirk. Eunji spins me around, and the room spins with us, into a sea of sparkling lights and laughing faces.

  Four

  The first thing I notice when I wake up is how badly my head is throbbing. The second is the all-consuming smell of dried cucumbers.

  I gag, my hands flying up to my face. It’s covered in a cucumber face mask. Horrified, I rip the thin cucumber slices off my face and throw them on the floor, trying not to breathe through my nose. Nausea rises in me, and it takes all my effort not to throw up all over myself.

  What the hell happened last night?

  I sit up and my head spins. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take three deep breaths, then open my eyes again and look around. I’m on a couch in a living room littered with empty cups and overturned bottles. It slowly comes back to me. I’m in the trainee house. The late-night training session turned out to be a party. Jason saw me in my pajamas. I grimace at the memory. We walked into the house together. And then… what happened? And where is everyone now?

  Head still pounding, I fumble in my bag for my cell phone to check the time. My eyes widen. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. It’s already 11:00 a.m. It’s 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday. I leap to my feet and stumble down the hallway, flinging open doors and trying to find the bathroom. I can’t believe I overslept on a training day. This can’t be happening.

  I’m woefully lost in the unfamiliar house. A part of me wants to blame this on Umma. If she had ever let me come to the trainee house, I’d know my way around better. But I know that this isn’t her fault; it’s all mine. In one night I’ve proven Umma right and everyone who’s ever believed in me wrong. Oh god, Rachel, why do you have to be so freaking gullible?

  I push open doors and find only bedrooms and one disheveled linen closet with what looks (and smells) like dried vomit in it. I push back my own gag reflex as I slam the door shut.

  Why is it that when you most need a bathroom, you can never find one? Frustrated after the fifth door leads me to a broom closet, I run back to the kitchen and wash my face in the sink. I dry myself with fistfuls of paper towels and, using my phone camera as a mirror, try to make myself as presentable as possible. I do a hasty job with my eyeliner, but it’ll have to do for now.

  My clothes are a mess. There are champagne stains on my leggings and remnants of the cucumber face mask smeared all over my sweater. I try not to gag again. Instead, I grit my teeth and grab the only other clothes I have. Looks like Jason isn’t going to be the only person who has to see my Snoopy pajamas.

  I yank my hair out of its flyaway braids as I run out of the house. I may smell like a cucumber compost bin, but maybe my hair can be salvaged. I take a quick glance at my phone camera, hoping to see beach waves. Instead I see half my hair flattened against my head while the other half is frizzing up like an electrocuted Albert Einstein.

  I’m a fucking disaster.

  But I don’t have time to fix anything now. I’m already way too late. I race down the street to DB headquarters, throwing my hair into a bumpy ponytail, my nausea rising in my chest with every step.

  By the time I yank open the door to the auditorium, I’m out of breath and sweating through Snoopy. Mr. Noh is already onstage, introducing the DB execs, all of whom are sitting in the first row of seats.

  The execs. The execs are here. My stomach fills with dread. Appraisal day.

  All the head trainers are onstage. Yujin. The lead dancing trainer. The lead vocal trainer. The head nutritionist. Mr. Bae, the head of marketing and publicity. Everyone is gathered to watch the progress of the trainees, to decide if we get to stay in the program, if we’re really worth their time or money. It’s the one day that I can’t be late. The one day I can’t show up looking like I got run over by a cucumber-filled garbage truck. My heart is permanently lodged in my throat, and I can feel tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I push them away. Don’t show weakness. If you’re going to survive this, you have to be strong.

  “We’re looking forward to seeing how far each of you have progressed in the last month,” Mr. Noh says, the reflection off his shiny bright-blue Prada suit making my eyes water. “The executives and I know you’ve all been training very hard, so—”

  He breaks off when his eagle eyes catch mine. For a second he looks stunned, taking in my unkempt hair and ridiculous pajamas. Everyone else in the auditorium turns toward me. Whispers rise, harsh sounds that fill my ears and make my head feel like it might split open right on the auditorium floor.

  “So, ah, remember to do your best today,” Mr. Noh continues, regaining his composure. He raises his eyebrows at me. “Your very best.”

  There’s nothing to do now but pretend like I’m not so embarrassed I want to melt out of my own skin. I hold my head up high and make my way toward Akari, who’s staring at me with her jaw dropped open. A wave of envy sweeps through me as I take in her perfect makeup, bouncy ponytail, and a cropped, floral sweatshirt we bought at A-Land together a few months ago. She looks polished. Prepared. Well rested. Like I should look. Like everyone expects me to.

  “What happened to you?” she whispers as I take a seat next to her.

  “It’s a long story.” I sigh. “But I’m not too sure what exactly…”

  I trail off as I notice Mr. Noh staring at me from the stage, his face frozen in a dangerous smile. “As I was saying, today is not just about your monthly appraisals.…”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mina and the other girls silently laughing behind their hands. Mina catches my eye and wiggles her fingers. She mimes holding up an invisible champagne glass for a toast and mouths, Cheers. Last night comes rushing back at me in a vicious wave. The champagne. Mina’s face and seeing double. Her gleeful voice crowing, “It worked!”

  “… an exciting new opportunity—the chance every young trainee in Korea would kill for. Today, one of you…”

  A wave of nausea hits, and I almost double over.

  I didn’t drink too much or lose control. And this isn’t just some terrible and unlucky coincidence. This whole thing is Mina. She did this. She’s the one who handed me the glass of champagne, who goaded me into drinking it as her friends watched.

  She put something in my drink.

  She drugged me.

  The reality of it hits like a ton of bricks. I’m completely frozen and powerless. Violated. Furious. I grit my teeth so hard I feel like they’re going to crack. I’m going to explode. In my head I keep replaying the image of Mina standing over me, cackling, “She’ll never get chosen
now!”

  “… chosen to be featured in a brand-new single with DB superstar Jason Lee!”

  My stomach cramps as a collective gasp rises throughout the auditorium. Akari turns to me, her mouth open in shock. “Can you believe this?” she asks excitedly.

  I shake my head, focused on last night and Mina. “I really can’t,” I respond.

  “Rachel!” Akari nudges me hard in the ribs. “Pay attention! Did you even hear what Mr. Noh just said?”

  I stare at her blankly, my stomach and my head a swirling mess of champagne and anger and dried cucumbers.

  “Rachel. Focus. The execs, Mr. Noh… they’re choosing a female trainee to sing a duet with Jason. A real song—not some training exercise. The appraisal today is an audition. This is it. You could be chosen!”

  That last word sticks in my mind as I process what she’s saying. I could be chosen. This isn’t just a typical monthly assessment. This is a chance to sing with Jason. For a trainee—for me—to sing with DB’s biggest star. I could be chosen.

  She’ll never be chosen now.

  I gasp and sit up straight. Mina knew all along. She knew what today was. She set me up.

  Akari pokes me again. Hard. “What?!” I say, startling before I notice that Mr. Noh has called up the first group for dance auditions, and the other trainees are making their way to the stage.

  In a way I’m grateful. If something didn’t force me to act normal, to move through the motions by rote, I might never recover. But I have to. I have to keep taking one step forward. And so I do—trying to hide the fact that I’m shaking.

  We line up along the back of the stage. The execs are sitting in the front row with iPads (a few years ago DB went fully digital when it comes to tracking trainee progress) and stern expressions, calling us up one by one to perform. Mina slides into the spot next to me, looking me up and down with her forehead creased in mock pity.

  “Rough night, Rachel?” she says. “You look terrible. Cute pajamas, though.”