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“I think he’s smitten with you,” Woori says, drawing my attention to her.
“He was just being considerate.” I blush.
“Really? Oppa...” She leans forward to shout at her brother. “If I were wearing stilettos, would you think to put me in a passing cart?”
Woogi shouts over the motor, “He said she was slowing him down!”
I feel a little bereft about being parted from Nathaniel, but at least we’ll be reunited soon, and he has the attendant with him to keep him company.
In the backstage area, an assistant is waiting to greet me. As we walk toward the hosts’ waiting room, I spot Sun Ye and the other ASAP members.
“Sun Ye-yah!” I shout.
“Sori-yah.” We air-hug. She’s stunning, dressed in a glittering performance outfit. The other members are dressed similarly. They bow to me in greeting. I feel a pang at not seeing Hyemi among them.
“How have you been?” I ask. “I’m sorry I’ve been absent so much this past week.” I was trying to fix the fallout from the scandal with Hyemi, but I was also feeling guilty and sad about my own life.
“It’s all very challenging, with ups and downs, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Though I wish Hyemi were promoting with us. Your mother says she’s announcing something about that next week.”
I frown. “She is?” Did Hyemi’s father agree to a deal?
Sun Ye nods. “Whatever it is, she says that she’ll take care of everything and not to worry.”
Sun Ye says this so matter-of-factly, as if, because my mother told her not to hold on to her worries, she’s able to let go of them.
I never asked her why she stayed as a trainee at Joah for so many years when others had left, and I wonder if it’s as simple as because she believed in my mother.
“Min Sori?” the assistant calls, having waited patiently this whole time.
“I’ll be sure to watch your performance,” I tell Sun Ye. “You’re opening up the show, aren’t you?”
“I am. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we? Since our middle and high school trainee days.”
I laugh. “Yes, and still a long way to go.”
“I look forward to it!”
Nathaniel’s already in the dressing room when I arrive, getting his makeup touched up. Mine has stayed perfectly intact, thanks to my diligence and RALA’s superior products. Once Nathaniel is finished, we’re whisked away to the staging area. My heart picks up at the rush of sounds coming from behind the curtains, of instruments warming up in the pit below the stage, the mingling voices of thousands of artists, writers, actors, visionaries.
Nathaniel’s hand slips over mine, tightening. I look up at him. “Nervous?” I ask.
His Adam’s apple bobs. “A little.”
“It’s you and me, remember?” I repeat his words from earlier. “We got this.”
He smiles at me. “We do.”
“And now,” a voice booms for the speakers, quieting the audience, “introducing our hosts, singer, Nathaniel Lee and model, Min Sori.”
Nathaniel and I walk onto the stage to polite applause. The stage lights are bright, making it difficult to see the audience, but I follow Nathaniel’s lead as he approaches the markings on the stage, where we’re meant to stand behind side-by-side microphones.
As the noise settles, I locate the teleprompter.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming,” I read slowly, enunciating my words as clearly as possible. “Tonight we’ve come together to celebrate the best of music, acting, and variety.”
“Speaking of variety, you and I have had our share of guest appearances. How come we weren’t nominated for anything?” Nathaniel’s reading from the script, but his delivery of his lines is so natural, I can’t help laughing as if heweread-libbing.
“That’s true. What category do you think we could have been considered for?”
