“And they won’t.”
He holds out his hand. “Give it to me. I don’t want you distracted.”
I tense. This isn’t the K-Pop days. “I’ll keep it on silent.”
His lips purse. “Now,” he snaps. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
I shake my head. “Then you remember my rules. To do what I ask without question.”
When I was too young and new to know what was best for myself. I hand the phone over, fuming.
“Time to take our places.” The show’s assistant says with a smile. I follow her out and lose myself in the role I’m meant to play. The moment I return, I see the fury in Sang’s eyes.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“About what?” I ask.
“Your little American waiting in the wings to ruin everything we’ve worked so hard to accomplish.”
“What?”
“This is how it starts. They pretend to be your friend. Gain your trust and exploit you. Do you remember what happened before?”
Shame sends heat to my cheeks and neck. “Hart is not Chung.”
“Because you’re such a great judge of character now? Huh? I keep you safe. I make the decisions for you and guide you. How can I do that if you no longer stick to the script I create, huh?” He kicks my shin, and I wince and duck my head.
“We’re friends.” I grit my teeth. Hart brings a bit of joy to every day. I don’t want to go without that.
“For now.” Sang scowls. “I have plans for you and Jiwoo.”
“What are you talking about?” This is the first time I’ve heard of this new scheme.
“The fans want to see you together. We need to give them that.”
“No. I don’t feel that way about her.” I shake my head. She’s like a sister at best.
“No one is asking you to. We make sure you’re pictured out together for non-work-related things. The fans will draw their own conclusions.”
“Why do we need to do that?”
“To keep them interested.” He tsks. “This will sell.”
“The show’s doing well.”
“It can always do better.”
“And she agreed to do this?”
“ Unlike you, she knows what her manager plans is best.” The manipulative techniques are the same. My chest tightens, and my palms sweat. I back away, desperate for air. Ignoring his command to come back, I rush outside, breathing hard as my mind grows fuzzy. I walk the streets, turning on a whim as I try to escape the ugly voice in my head that sounds unmistakably like Sang. If you want this as badly as you claim to, you’ll work harder. Push through the pain. To be number one, you must be willing to give up everything else.
I dig my fingernails into my palms and breathe deeply. I am in control now. I left the band to move away from that. Muscles tense, I spot a park. Moving to sit down on a bench, I stare into nothing. I focus on my breathing, inhaling for three counts, and exhaling for three more. I’m spiraling. I’ve come to recognize the signs. Too much more, and I’ll breakdown. Leaning down, I rest my elbows on my knees. I should be happy. I have everything I once dreamt of plus more, and yet I’m miserable. Things have to change.
Admitting it to myself loosens a tension I’ve held inside for too long. It’s time to come up with a plan and make my move. I need to talk to someone. I remove my phone.
“Yoon?” Her voice is husky and sleep worn. I soak up her soft tone.
“Have you ever realized you’re in a toxic situation and knew it needed to change, but still found yourself afraid to take the first step?”