“Is that your favourite drink?” Rap Mon asks out of nowhere. I’ve been sitting in a corner where I won’t bother the crew and the shoot for this set has just ended. I look down at my iced caramel macchiato.

 

“It might be?” I answer. Rap Mon smiles.

 

“Byeol!” Yoongi calls as he walks over.

 

“Yes, Yoongi-ssi?”

 

“Jungkookie says you’re good with keyboards.” It came more as a statement than as a question. Is he talking about Piano Tiles?

 

“You mean the game?” I clarify. He shakes his head.

 

“I mean a real keyboard, a piano.”

 

“I guess so, but how did he know?” I eyeball Jungkook from across the main studio. He gives me a little smile.

 

“Seems like the kid’s been doing a bit of stalking lately,” Rap Mon says.

 

“But what about it?” I ask Yoongi about his sudden interest in my piano skills.

 

“Play with me once?” His charismatic smile wins me over. “I’ve already gotten permission from Director-nim,” he says, sending a wink over at my manager. Taking me by the arm, he leads me over to the grand piano in the corner of the studio. He pushes me down onto one side of the seat and sits beside me.

 

“I haven’t played in a while,” I admit to him. Not since I left the band. Smiling but not saying anything, he begins to play. For the first few seconds I struggle to recognize the tune but the familiar comes soon after. Sitting on my left, Yoongi lifts his right hand off the keys, a signal for me to come in. Hesitantly, I let my fingers graze the keys. Yoongi smiles at me encouragingly. Matching his beat, I take over the right hand notes. I start out a bit too slow but easily catch up. The guys gather around us. Rap Mon stands in my peripheral vision, leaning against the wall adjacent to the piano being as distracting as ever. I pull up images of the music score in my mind.

 

“You’re great at this,” Yoongi praises.

 

“Wow, Byeol…” Is all Jungkook says before a piercing scream threatens to bleed our ears dry.

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S NOT COMING?” My manager shouts into her phone, hand gestures flying everywhere. Everyone turns silent and looks away.  

 

“What’s with her?” Yoongi whispers beside me. As if on cue, my manager looks over sharply. She hangs up the phone and an undecipherable smile spreads over her face.

 

“Byeol!” She clasps her hands together as she walks towards me. I shrink back slightly, not knowing what she wants.

 

“Director-nim,” Rap Mon steps forward. “What are you going to do?” My manager waves him off with a flick of her wrist.

 

“Yes, manager-nim?” I manage to say coherently.

 

“You stand in as the female model.”

 

“What?” I don’t think I heard that correctly.

 

“Our original model backed out last minute,” she explains. “We need a replacement.”

 

“And you want me to…” But…

 

Turns out, I didn’t really have a choice. Dragging me by my arm, my manager pulls me into the dressing room. The coordi picks out clothes for the next set as planned and passes it to me, an apologetic look on her face. I look down at the outfit – an elaborate flowy black dress with a plunging low back cut – in distaste.

 

“What are you doing, not changing?” My manager pokes her head into the room, looking like an angel and a devil both at the same time.

 

“I… I was just about to…” Sighing, I drag my feet into the changing cubicle. She expects me to wear this thing? I flip the dress around multiple times.

                                                                                 

“Byeol, time’s a-wasting!” My manager shouts.

 

Let’s be professional about it, Byeol-ah, I repeat to myself as I change. It’s just a photoshoot. It’ll be over in a minute. As I step out from behind the curtain, an old memory surfaces in front of me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Perfecto!” My manager claps her hands, eyeing me from head to toe. She nods at the makeup artist, and not long later, I emerge with red lips and wavy hair. As if I’d run away, my manager personally pulls me out into the main studio. There, I spot the Bangtan guys all dressed up in tuxes and looking as suave as ever. My eyes run all over the place as I awkwardly avoid eye contact.

 

“Let’s take single member shots first,” the photographer says. “Byeol-ssi, hurry over.”

 

In killer high heels, I step over the cables carefully, scanning the set as I approach it. Against the white backdrop, there are no other props. Rap Mon, the first member for the shoot, comes over and holds out a hand to me. I take it gratefully.

 

“Byeol-ssi, will you give him a kiss on the cheek first?” The photographer requests as he sets up his camera. I blink once, twice.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Leave a nice lipstick mark on his cheek,” he says again. I blink a few more times before glancing at Rap Mon. He looks about as awkward as me. I clear my throat and approach him.

 

“Let’s just get this over and done with,” I say, hopefully professionally. Standing in front of him, I realise he’s at least a head taller than me and this means even in these heels, I have to tiptoe to my maximum to reach him. I place my hands on his shoulders for support as I lift my heels. As Rap Mon remains frozen, I turn his head slightly to the side and mumble a sorry before I touch my lips to his right cheek.

 

“Great!” The photographer says, pleased when he sees the mark. “Remember, this set is supposed to be very y, seductive.” And so he continues to give instructions for poses for the rest of the set.