Page 60 of K-Pop Double Life

He squeezed my shoulder once and walked away, leaving me alone with the noise of the arena building around me.

We were all getting dressed in one large room. Mina, Wan-suk, and Du-ri were moving between us when the energy backstage shifted and we heard voices raised somewhere down the corridor, followed by the crackle of radios and two arena security guards rushing past the door.

Mina paused with a tube of concealer in her hands. “What’s happening?”

No one answered. One of Jason’s men hurried past the dressing area, speaking urgently into his radio in Korean. I caught only fragments.

“—north access corridor⁠—”

“—she was supposed to be⁠—”

“—lock that entrance down⁠—”

My stomach tightened as Aidan appeared at the doorway. “Good, you’re all here,” he said. “Stay put.”

“What happened?” I asked.

But he was already gone, Liam right behind him.

A moment later, Jason was striding toward us with a fury I’d never seen on his face. “Security issue. No one leaves this area without clearance.”

“Security issue how?” Haneul demanded.

Jason ignored the question, speaking into his radio instead.

Then I saw her. Just for a second, at the far end of the corridor. Sophie, the photographer from Paris.

One of our two Starhouse security guards had her by the arm, but she twisted free long enough to say something I couldn’t hear before another guard stepped in.

Then the three of them disappeared around the corner.

“That’s one of the photographers,” I said. “She took a lot of photos of me in Paris. Why is she in trouble?”

His jaw tightened. “This is being handled.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No,” he snapped, “it isn’t.”

The stage manager appeared at that exact moment, headset askew, panic and professionalism fighting for control.

“Places in ninety seconds.”

I stared at her. “There’s a security breach and you want us onstage?”

“Twenty thousand people are out there,” she said. “Unless someone tells me the show is canceled, you need to take your places.”

My pulse was racing now. I looked toward the corridor where Aidan had vanished. Toward whatever was happening that no one would explain.

Then Haneul gripped my shoulder.

“Joon-hi.”

I turned to him.

“Later,” he said quietly. “Right now, we perform.”

Years of training took over where conscious thought failed. My body knew the choreography even when my mind drifted. My voice hit the notes. My smile appeared when the cameras found me.