Page 110 of K-Pop Double Life

I was not going to let Tuesday be the end of the story.

43

TECH REHEARSAL

SANG-HOON — SEOUL

Monday June 8, 2026

The first thing I noticed was how normal everything felt.

Wardrobe cases lined the loading dock exactly where they’d always been. Mina was setting up styling stations for each of the performers, and Du-ri was already arguing with a production assistant about the delivery of costumes. Wan-suk had three makeup stations set up beneath bright mirrors, muttering that somebody had borrowed her favorite foundation brush again.

For the first time since São Paulo, I found myself smiling. “You’re late,” Mina called without looking up from a sequined jacket that Min-kyu wore in the second set. It looked like the sleeve had come loose and she was hand-sewing it back together. Technically that should have been Du-ri’s responsibility, but clearly she was busy with the production assistant.

I checked my watch. “Three minutes.”

She shrugged. “Still late.”

Wan-suk stopped obsessively organizing makeup remover on a table to ask, “How’s our patient?”

“I’m fine.”

“So, stubborn.”

I smiled and bowed. “Completely.”

“Good. I’d have been worried if you started listening to doctors.”

We all laughed, and the sound surprised me. For a few moments, we weren’t survivors of a series of terrible actions. We were simply a tour crew getting ready for another concert.

Sun-hee-noona appeared in the doorway of the prep area. “Sang-hoon, they need you upstairs.” While the crew finished putting all the stage modifications in place, the five members of Pryzm were in a private box overlooking the stadium, preparing for another press conference.

“Let me get a makeup kit.”

“Not to clean up the group. Eun-ji wants you there to answer questions.”

“You’re the man of the hour,” Mina called. “Stylist super-hero!”

I shook my head. “They don’t want me.”

“Hundreds of fans have been spreading your photo across social media,” Sun-hee-noona said drily. “If you think the press won’t have questions you haven’t been paying attention to media interviews for the last five years.”

I followed her upstairs. Jin and the other members were seated on chairs with their back to the windows overlooking the stadium. Jin was in the center, of course, and there was a sixth chair where Grace usually sat to translate any questions or responses.

Seeing it there caught me off guard.

Grace had translated interviews, smoothed over cultural misunderstandings, and rescued us from more awkward conversations than I could count. Somewhere on the tour she’d become one of us. All the while planning to hurt or sabotage us. I couldn’t understand that.

At least we wouldn’t need an interpreter. Every interview on today’s schedule would be in Korean. Still... I missed her.

I moved toward that empty seat and Eun-ji stopped me. “No, we need to move that chair,” she said. “Everyone shift so Sang-hoon can sit next to Jin.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not a performer. I certainly don’t belong next to the center.”

“Get used to it,” she said. “Now pick up that chair and move it next to your boyfriend.”

The name stunned me. It was the first public acknowledgement of our relationship, even though it was only to the group—and they already knew.