Finding myself in front of four, eager, impressionable faces was a bit disconcerting. The boys were all so painfully young. And, they all looked at me as if I could provide answers to the mysteries of their futures.

Doubt started creeping inside me, unbidden.

It wasn’t about whether they would like me as a mentor. They’ve been trainees long enough to know that they needed to be able to adapt to any situation or person thrown at them whether they wanted to or not. It wasn’t even about my ability as a dance teacher. These kids spent three to five hours a day on dance practices and would probably be able to pick up new choreography in a matter of hours. But my dilemma came from whether I would be able to make a difference in their lives – to prepare them for what was to come.

They were all so pure; so hopeful; so untainted by the mess of the very same industry they wanted to break into. How do I reconcile my company responsibility to help them become the very best version of themselves but at the same worry for them as a mentor knowing that I’m sending them out there to sell themselves to a public that could adore them one minute and pick them apart until they bled the next?

CEO Na stood beside me, looking down on the four teenage faces that were seated on the floor. “Where is Dongmin?” He raised an eyebrow up at the group expectantly.

Jinjin, whom I learned during my briefing with the group’s road manager was the leader, spoke up. “He said he was just going to get everyone some drinks. Probably still down at the cafeteria?”

“And no one thought of sending him a message that we’re here waiting for him?” The CEO asked pointedly.

I shifted in my position feeling sorry for them.

Clearly the CEO’s presence was a bit overwhelming. After all, it’s not every day that the head of the company would deign to appear in front of a rookie group just to ask them how they were doing. He had the managers giving him daily reports of their progress for that.

They all bowed their heads and started giving each other side looks. Jinjin grimaced, wrinkling his small eyes into barely-there slits. He swept his bleached blond locks off his forehead in a huff, clearly blaming himself for not thinking of doing that sooner. “Sorry, sir. I’ll go call him right now.” He stood up and went to one corner of the mirrored studio where all their bags were thrown together, along with discarded towels and jackets.

Watching him fumble with his smartphone even as a bright flush of red started creeping up the skin of his neck, I understood why Park Jin Woo was given the position of band leader. He readily took responsibility for the team’s lapses. Barely nineteen, he already possessed a maturity most people take for granted in adulthood. He had already anticipated that it was up to him to present his team in the best light and to protect them, if needed.

“Hyung? Maybe he can get extra drinks too?” Yoon Sanha piped up, the question directed at Jinjin’s back.  His eyes wandered over to where I was standing, trying my best not to appear embarrassed for them. CEO Na had taken to inspecting the stereo equipment on the other side of the room, not paying any