by Jessica Jung
“Hey, isn’t that Rachel Kim?”
“It is. It is. Did you read this line about her? ‘Rachel Kim is especially notorious for playing mildang with Jason Lee’s heart, pushing and pulling and giving mixed signals to keep him on his toes. One second she’s all over him, and the next she’s giving him the cold shoulder.’ ”
“Wow. Can you believe her? Jason deserves better.”
The back of my neck prickles, and I can feel their phone cameras turning toward me. I quickly cover my face with my hands and hunch down in my seat. When the subway stops, I leap up, running past the crowds of people waiting to board and booking it all the way to headquarters. It’s no better inside, though, as young trainees gathered in the lobby whisper and point as I walk past them.
“Did you see who it is?”
“I heard she’s pregnant with Minjun’s love child and that’s why Jason left her.”
“I heard she and Mina tried to strangle each other with the straps on their heels during tour.”
Well, at least the DB rumor mill isn’t hurting for content.
Out of habit more than anything else, I turn down the hallway toward the independent practice rooms, when I hear a familiar song.
Jason’s song. The one he played for me in the music room at school.
I burst into the practice room and see Jason sitting on a chair with his guitar strapped over his shoulder. Minjun is there too, choreographing some cheesy interpretive dance moves to Jason’s song. They both look up and see me at the same time, a huge smile spreading across Jason’s face.
“Ah, the lovebird, responding to the song of her mate,” Minjun says, pressing a hand over his heart. “Beautiful, just beautiful.”
“What are you doing here?” Jason asks brightly, holding out his arms as if expecting me to greet him with a hug. “I missed you.”
He missed me?
A million thoughts rush into my head, tangling themselves into a gigantic knot inside my heart. Everything feels like it’s happening all at once, and my brain can’t reconcile my Jason, sitting here with his guitar casually strung around his back, saying he missed me, with the Jason I saw in the tabloid pictures, the one who was laughing and eating ice cream with Mina. I feel nervous and hurt and like a paper pinwheel toy could do a better job of pushing air through my body than my lungs could at this moment—but most of all, I feel angry.
I open my mouth, about to let him have it, but nothing comes out. Now that we’re face-to-face, there are no words. I’m totally frozen. Shock has finally gotten the best of me.
Minjun glances between us, sensing the shift in mood. “I’ll give you two a minute.” He walks out of the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.
Jason frowns. “Rachel, is everything okay?”
It dawns on me then. He doesn’t know what I know yet. He hasn’t seen the article. No phones allowed during training.
Wordlessly, I hold my phone up, pictures of him and Mina splashed across the screen.
Jason takes it from my hands. As he reads, his face goes from confused to horrified, his eyes widening as understanding sinks in. He swallows hard.
“It’s not what it looks like. Please, Rachel, let me explain,” he says slowly, carefully.
Yes, please explain, I want to say. Tell me something that will pull me out of the spiral I’ve been falling down since I got off the subway. Tell me something, anything, that will keep my heart from breaking, because right now it’s barely holding together by a thread. Let this be a mistake or, better yet, a dream to wake up from and forget the next day.
Just please tell me something that will make this go away.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead I flick my eyes down toward the floor. “Go on, then.” My voice comes out hoarse. “Explain.”
He takes a deep breath, wiping his hands against his pants. Usually when he says something important, he looks me right in the eye, but today it’s like he’s trying to look anywhere but at me. “About six months ago, I showed DB my original song, the one I played for you. I wanted to go solo, and I wanted that song to be my debut song as a solo artist.”
The words rush out before I can stop myself. “But what about NEXT BOYZ? And Minjun?”
Jason sighs. “Minjun understood. As for the rest of the group… what can I say? I told you about my mom, how much K-pop music meant to her. How much it means to me. I wanted my music to mean something again.”
I nod slowly. “I understand that part. What I don’t understand is what this has to do with me and Mina.”
Jason swallows hard. “Well. The execs said yes. But there was a catch. They wanted to see if I could really succeed as a solo artist.” His eyes flit to mine. “They wanted me to record a new single with a trainee.”
“Our song,” I say, understanding slowly creeping in.
“Right. It was decided that I would do a test duet with Mina, but after the video of us singing together went viral, I…” He pauses here, looking down at his shoes. “I thought singing with both of you would create more buzz.”
My heart pinches at his words. “It was your idea?” I flash back to Mr. Han fighting for me in the boardroom, when it seemed like all hope was lost.
Jason gives a small nod, like he can’t bear the thought of what he’s done. “I talked to Mr. Han after we sang together.”
“Right. More arm candy for the great Jason Lee.”
“Rachel, no!” Jason looks at me, his brows knit together. “It wasn’t like that. I loved singing with you. It was like…”
“We were meant to sing together?” I finish flatly.
“Yeah, exactly. Like it was meant to be.”
“And the rest of it?” I ask, gesturing to my phone, which is still in Jason’s hands.
“DB was demanding I do whatever I could to generate buzz for the song,” he says, speaking quickly now. “You know how DB is all about publicity. They staged dates for me with both you and Mina and had the paparazzi follow us. But, Rachel, please understand.” He grabs my hands, locking eyes with mine. “Everything with Mina was totally posed, just like it was supposed to be. But it was different with you. That day in Tokyo, on the plane, I meant what I said. And I’ve meant it ever since. I love being around you. I love y—”
“Don’t!” I shout. “Don’t say it. You can’t say that to me right now.” My mind is spinning. I don’t know what to believe. What to feel. “Did Mina know?”
He hesitates. “Her dad told her the deal right away,” he admits. “That day on the river she was just playing along for the cameras. We both were.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Jason buries his head in his hands before looking up. “The execs—they… knew you had trouble in front of the camera. They didn’t want you to ruin their plans.…” His words fade away helplessly.
So Mina figured it out before I even had a clue. I go through every single moment of the past few months—our self-care day in Tokyo, the time he snuck into school, our dinner with his eemos in Brantwood, the engagement party in Brooklyn—feeling more and more humiliated by the second. I was so caught up in being close to Jason that I didn’t even realize how big a fool I was being. How naive I was, so willing to give up my future for a boy who had only been thinking of his career this entire time. Was any of it real?
“I can’t believe you. Everything you said to me that day in the park—about being here for me. Not wanting to be as bad as the execs. But you’re worse than them—at least they never lie about how they are. You had me believing this was real.”
“Please, Rachel, it’s not like that,” he says, his voice desperate now. “Since that day in Tokyo, I’ve been paying the paparazzi to keep the photos off the internet. I never wanted you to find out this way. I was planning on telling you everything soon, but…” He looks at my phone. “Clearly someone decided to leak them.”
More and more articles are popping up now, the headlines all painting Jason as an innocent, lovesick K-pop star. WILL J
ASON LEE HEAL FROM HEARTBREAK? K-POP STAR JASON LEE, TORN FROM BOTH SIDES. KOREA’S FAVORITE STAR BOY IN THE MIDDLE OF AN EPIC LOVE TRIANGLE.
“Please don’t read those,” he says, but it’s too late.
“ ‘DB trainees have long had a reputation for being ruthless, doing anything to climb their way to the top, but Rachel Kim and Choo Mina take it to the next level, manipulating lovesick K-pop star Jason Lee for a chance to shine in the spotlight.’ ” I stop, too furious to keep going. “I can’t believe this. You know, I was coming here to find you and celebrate the news of you going solo. And then this comes out at the exact moment that—”
Suddenly, I freeze, Jason’s words from earlier rushing back to me. You know how DB is all about publicity.
And that’s when I realize.
“It was DB. They leaked the photos.” I stare at him, the pieces clicking together. “You thought you were holding off the paparazzi from posting, but it wasn’t because of you. It was because they were waiting for a signal from DB to drop them at the perfect time.”
“What are you talking about?” Jason says.
“Think about it, Jason!” I cry. “ ‘Summer Heat’ has been one big publicity stunt to create buzz for your solo act. They’ve set you up as a heartbroken boy caught between two girls so that when you sing your precious debut song, people will relate it to your life and eat it up. And of course they threw me and Mina into the love triangle. We’re expendable trainees! If the public turns on us, it doesn’t matter!”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” he says, frowning. “You’ve heard my song. The lyrics are all about being caught between identities, being caught between two worlds. It’s not about a love triangle.”
“Do you seriously think DB is going to let you sing about your freaking identity?” I ask, staring at him in disbelief. “ ‘I’m back and forth, the push and pull, I’m falling fast and floating free. I’m a glass half-empty or half-full, caught in between two galaxies?’ ” The lyrics spill easily out of my mouth. “Wake up, Jason. Back and forth, push and pull? Two galaxies can easily be interpreted as two girls. Your sandcastle queen and ocean lover. Why do you think they set us all up like this?”
“No.” He shakes his head, a nervous panic creeping into his voice. “They wouldn’t do that to me. I’m telling you, they wouldn’t! They called me as soon as I got into a car at the airport. They said they have big news, that I should start practicing my solo debut because… because…” His voice trails off as he loses steam. He knows I’m right. “Rachel.” He looks at me with those puppy-dog eyes, and for the first time, I feel nothing. “What am I going to do?”
I have nothing left in me to give.
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice shaking. “But I know you won’t be lying to me any longer.” I turn to leave.
Jason’s eyes narrow. “You’re one to talk. We both know I’m not the only one who lied in this relationship,” he says, his voice harsh and bitter.
“If you’re talking about my dad’s law school, that had nothing to do with you—”
“I’m talking about the video. At Kwangtaek.” My breath catches in my throat as he continues. “I know you and Yujin planned the whole thing so you could get attention from the execs. How is that any different from what I did? I thought when I explained this all to you, you would understand.”
My stomach sinks. “You’re right. And maybe I would have. But not like this.”
The thread that’s been holding my heart together snaps and I crumple. I reach back into my past—to all the younger versions of myself who have been keeping this dream alive for me. To my eleven-year-old self who wanted this more than anything, whose pure love for K-pop and joy for this music has been lighting my way, showing me where to go, what to do. But she’s barely a whisper in my heart right now. Jason’s betrayal has shattered me completely.
“Goodbye, Jason.” My voice doesn’t waver or catch in my throat. It’s completely steady as I walk out of the practice room. Only when my back is turned do I press my hand against my mouth, tears rolling down my cheeks.
He doesn’t try to stop me.
Twenty-Five
It’s amazing how quickly life can fall apart and yet remain exactly the same. A few hours ago Jason Lee was my secret boyfriend, I had a number one hit on the K-pop charts, and my family was happy. Now the entire country thinks I was dating Jason (when I’m not), I still have a number one hit on the K-pop charts, and my family seems happier than ever (even though I’m pretty sure Umma isn’t speaking to Appa and we now owe our livelihood to the family of my biggest enemy).
Was anything ever really what I thought it was? Or was the entire world a lie? An elaborately created fantasy that lets eleven-year-old girls believe that dreams come true, only to shatter them to pieces, all at once, after she had already dedicated her life to them.
The fan comments on the articles are rolling in now and holding nothing back.
How dare these lowlife trainees break Jason’s heart!
Who do they think they are?
These bitches need to die, hurting our sweet baby Jason.
I want to rip their ugly faces off!
There’s no way DB will debut me now, not with all this baggage and fan hate. And to think, they’re the ones who put me in this mess. Trained me for years and then made me un-debut-able by their standards.
It’s so ridiculous I almost want to laugh. Almost.
I turn my phone off. I don’t want to see any more articles or read any more comments. My career may be over, but that doesn’t mean I have to be reminded of it every five seconds.
I go on autopilot, wandering aimlessly around Seoul as a foggy numbness settles over my brain, until I somehow find myself outside the twins’ apartment. If anyone will help distract me from today, I know they will.
I’m greeted by Hyeri, her hair in giant pink curlers on top of her head. “Rachel!” she cries. She looks surprised but pleased to see me, ushering me into the apartment. “I see you’ve changed your mind about the gala. Perfect timing!”
“Did I hear you say Rachel?” Juhyun’s voice calls from the bathroom. She pokes her head out, her eyebrows half drawn in. “Hi. You’re here! Good. Just sit down and don’t think about anything. We’ll help you with your hair and makeup as soon as we’re done!”
The living room is in total chaos, dresses flung over the back of the brown leather couches and makeup pouches bursting open like treasure chests all over the coffee table, leaving trails of mascara and lipstick tubes spilling onto the floor. I totally forgot that the Molly Folly gala is tonight. The twins are so busy getting ready, I realize they haven’t seen the articles yet. Just as well. The longer I can go without talking about it, the better.
“Sorry for the mess,” Hyeri says. She leads me to the kitchen, where a row of alcohol bottles is lined up neatly on the table, all ready for the twins’ predrink. She pulls out a chair for me, patting the seat before bustling back to the living room to finish getting ready. “Make yourself comfortable,” she calls over her shoulder.
I do as I’m told, sliding down the chair and resting my head face-first on the lacquered table surface. I am a blob. A giant, feeling-less blob.
I don’t know how long I sit like that before I notice the twins are standing in front of me. I look up at them, my hair falling in my eyes. Their perfectly drawn eyebrows are furrowed in identical expressions of concern. Juhyun’s hair is in a princess bun on top of her head, and Hyeri’s falls down her back in long, sweeping curls. They look party-ready, except for the fact that they’re both still in their getting-ready pajamas.
“Everything okay, Rachel?” Hyeri asks.
“Yes.”
“By yes, do you really mean no?”
“Yes.”
Hyeri and Juhyun exchange glances.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Juhyun asks.
“No.” I droop back onto the table. “I don’t want to ruin your night. You have a party to go to.”
/> They start to protest, but I wave them away. “No, no, it’s fine, seriously. I just need a drink. Here.”
I grab the bottle of tequila and pop it open. Still slouched over the table like a sloth refusing to let go of its tree branch, I take a big gulp straight from the bottle. Juhyun and Hyeri stare at me as I start to chug, wincing only slightly at the taste of the sour liquid.
“Okay, where’s Rachel and what have you done with her?” Juhyun asks.
“If you’re going to keep asking questions, at least drink with me,” I say, wiping a dribble of tequila from my chin.
“All right,” Hyeri says. She picks up the bottle of peach makgeolli, cracking it open. “You’re obviously sad about something and there’s nothing sadder than drinking alone. So we’re with you. Jjan!”
Juhyun lifts a can of beer. “Jjan!”
We all cheers, and down our drinks.
An hour later, I’m buzzed.
Maybe even a little drunk. But just a really tiny little bit.
When I tell Juhyun and Hyeri that they look like they’re going to a fancy pajama party, they scream and insist that I get made up too. They curl my hair and give me a fresh face of makeup with perfect cat-eye eyeliner and siren-red lipstick. Juhyun even paints my nails in the new galaxy pattern she learned how to do. At some point, one of us has the idea that we should dress up for the party even if we’re not going, so we all change into fancy cocktail dresses, collapsing on the couch with a bottle of wine and a huge family pack of cuttlefish chips, our heels up on the gigantic marble and glass coffee table.
“Whose idea was this anyway?” I laugh, hiccuping over my glass of wine.
“Yours,” Juhyun and Hyeri say at the same time.
We all crack up. I snuggle into the couch, resting my head against Juhyun’s shoulder. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or if it just hasn’t hit me yet that DB is probably going to kick me out, but in this moment, all I feel is a strange sense of relief.
I feel free, normal even.
I imagine this being my everyday life, getting ready for parties with my friends, hanging out without feeling guilty for not spending every spare minute practicing, laughing as Hyeri throws chips in the air and catches them in her mouth while Juhyun tries to intercept and swat them away. It’s so uncomplicated. I could get used to this kind of life.
