It’s almost laughable that I would ever be able to get into Seoul University. Maybe I could apply overseas.
Back in LA?
I frown, grab my bank card from the ATM, and start stubbornly stomping down the street as it starts to rain.
I mean, why sunshine when I’m having such a great day?
I keep thinking about the guys’ proposal.
Why me, of all people? Someone they don’t even like.
Why?
They never explained, which makes me even more nervous. They’ve always despised me, challenged me. And, yes, I’ve screamed their names in extremely unhealthy ways into my pillow on several occasions. I’m sure other girls scream for other reasons.
I grunt and stop walking. As if they’re really that good-looking.
I’m completely lying to myself but it does make me feel better.
I shake my head and try not to focus on the fact that, yes, they are. They’re that good-looking and talented. I frown.
Why is their group disbanding in the first place? They’ve only been together officially for a short time and have already made a crapton of money.
Did they get caught up in a scandal? Did the other two members, who nobody’s heard from in the last few months? Normally, the Netizens are all over it. Those internet sleuths are scary good at finding out information, but I haven’t heard anything, and I would like to think I’d be one of the first since I’m a trainee at the same label even if I haven’t debuted yet. However, that doesn’t mean the gossip doesn’t run rampant in this place.
I look to my right and sigh. Ramyeon from the store it is again.
I shake off the rain and go inside to pick out my noodles, strolling down the aisle until I come to the brand I like: Shin Raymun.
Not only does it taste good, but it’s also cheap, and I need cheap right now if I want to eat for the rest of the week.
I almost snort because someone told me just yesterday that I still need to lose weight, even though my clothes are hanging off my body at this point.
Apparently, if I look bigger on camera than any of the guys who are training for other groups—even though I’m not competing with them—I’m undesirable. And they’re fighting their own battles with trying to look thin and have the perfect jawline and visuals.
Really, I think I’m just feeling sorry for myself. It doesn’t help that it completely mystifies me as to why the guys want to add me to their group.
I grab my ramyeon, add water, the egg, and put it in the microwave. Then I go over to a seat by the window in the small store.
This isn’t how I saw my glamorous, hard-working life as a trainee going.
The microwave dings. The noodles are too hot to eat, so I sit there and look at his name in my phone as if this choice will one hundred percent cause me to be just as fallen as Ryan.
I stare at the screen for a long time, and then my phone rings.
“Dad.” I answer and smile. It’s so great how supportive he’s been of my dream.
“Have you seen your phone bill?” he asks before I can say anything else. “You need to start paying for this. You’re nineteen, Ah-Ri. We’ve let you do your thing because we believe in you, but you have to do better. We also got a bill for your credit card. When did you even take a credit card out?”
I want to say, “When I had no money for food or clothes,” but I keep it in. “I’m sorry. Once I debut, I can pay you back—”
He’s quiet for way too long. “I love you…you’re my only daughter. But you can’t be that naïve to think that you’ll even get paid right away or be successful. Some idols wait years to get their first check, and you’re going to somehow pay off over a thousand won? With what job? What paycheck?”
I want to say that I could always illegally sell myself on the streets or become a table girl, but I keep it in. Barely. I have to bite my lip until it hurts so I don’t blurt out something disrespectful or inappropriate.
I sigh. “I have a new opportunity. It’s a bit different, but…”
He pauses. “No. I want you to marry for love like I did.”
I laugh. “Appa! It’s not that!”
“Then how? What? I’m trying to understand. And why aren’t you back at the dorms yet?”
I stare into my ramyeon and stir it with my plastic fork. “Thinking about this new opportunity, that’s all.”
He’s quiet, thinking. Pensive. “Will you be able to debut? Follow your dream?”
I nod before answering. “Yeah, probably. Yes.”
I can practically hear his pride and excitement through the phone. “Then you take it. You take it hard, you perform hard, but you take it.”