“Hey, let’s just focus on the dancing for now,” Haneul says.
We ignore the tension, which seems to be a theme with all of us now, and I practice every dance sequence like my life depends on it. Haneul moves toward me. We’re supposed to look like we’re about to kiss and then are each pulled away.
He smiles at me each time we get close, and for some reason, Ryan pulls me back harder and harder from him until I’m convinced I’ll fall to the floor.
“Hey,” I say for the tenth time. “You don’t have to jerk me away so hard.”
He gulps. “Sorry.” His gaze falls to Haneul. “I just wanted to make it believable.”
“Yeah, well, I believe it.” I shake it off. “Just trust me.”
I swear that phrase hangs between us.
Trust me.
Trust us.
Trust what, though?
This weird friendship that has crossed basically every boundary ever? How do you even navigate something like that? Especially since it’s not fair to our other two members, who are just trying to survive this debut.
We practice for one more hour. By the time we’re done, everyone’s exhausted, starving, and ready for bed.
Jisoo and Haneul leave first. I follow, not even bothering to talk to Ryan as I walk to the dorms. While it would have been convenient to live together so we could eat, sleep, and breathe the same sweaty practice air—the label said it might cause too much scandal before our debut.
Ryan’s silent as he walks next to me.
I don’t argue when he comes into my place and shuts the door. Just like I don’t argue when he locks it and crawls into bed next to me after we both separately shower from all our hard work.
We don’t discuss the lines we’re continuing to cross, and I wonder how I fell for him so fast. Then, I wake up to find him holding me close.
I’m the small spoon again.
I hate that it makes me smile to wake up in his arms when I know it can only end in heartbreak.
We’re in the same group. How can we ever make this work?
I don’t know. But I pretend to sleep as he kisses my forehead. When the alarm from my phone sounds again, he curses, gets up, and says, “Pray you have coffee.”
“Red Bull,” I grumble.
“Even better.” He looks like a god as he walks around my room in nothing but black boxer briefs. He puts on his white shirt from the night before and then turns and looks at me. “One day, or maybe one night…”
“Is that a threat? Or are you just too tired to finish your thoughts?” I tease.
His eyes rake down my body. “It’s a promise.”
He walks out of my room.
And I believe him.
I believe it’s a promise, even when it feels like a threat. There is no way this will end with us parting as best friends. If it does end.
No way.
We’ve both already allowed ourselves to think past that. And now, we’re going to be damned because of it if it ends badly or if anyone finds out.
Nobody can know.
We’ll live a life of constant secrets.
So why does it still sound like a good idea when I lie back against the pillow and think about how he held me?
I justify it all.
And then I get up and go into the kitchen, wrapping my arms around his body.
He stills.
Hangs his head.
“Bad idea,” he whispers.
“The worst,” I agree.
He grips my wrists as if he’s going to push me away, then clenches them tighter. “We’ll either regret it all or—”
“Die of happiness?”
He laughs. I love the way it feels against my body. “Yeah, that.” He looks over his shoulder. “You ready for today?”
“No. You?”
He shakes his head. “Not enough caffeine. But we have to make this work. I can’t…” He stops himself and then sighs. “I have nothing after this. My sister was my best friend, my everything. My dad resents that I stayed in the industry after she—” His voice hitches. “After she lost her life to suicide.”
My heart pounds in my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. My family has money. They kept most of it private.” Sadness fills his voice. So much that I want to take it away from him—or maybe just carry it for him. “They said it was an accident. She fell from a bridge. She was a gymnast before trying to become an idol. She would never have lost her balance.”
“She…” I lick my lips. “She jumped?”
He nods. “She was depressed, had so many horrible comments about the first drama she acted in. Then her single didn’t do well, and she just…lost it. Decided that being in Heaven was better than being in Hell.”
A tear slides down my cheek. “I’m sorry. I had no idea…”
“It’s not okay. I’m not going to say it’s okay because I live with it every day.” He turns in my arms. “Anyway, it’s one of the reasons I want to make it. Because she never did. It was her dream, and this is our last shot. She always talked about doing a co-ed group and how badass it would be. I need to do it for her. For us. For her memory.”