A warm July breeze sailed through the air, swerved around the brick buildings and wrestled with the emerald leafs in the trees overhead. I stared down the street, my eyes fixed what looked like the vanishing point of Seoul. The road, lined with steel skyscrapers on both sides, seemed to extend as far as they eye could see until the entire scenery, the road, trees, and buildings, met at one point a grid. A pale blue sky hung overhead, the sun shining faintly through clouds that tainted a spotless sky.

            I’d been waiting as patiently as possible for my father to arrive; he had said he was going to be late, but I didn’t think he’d be this late. It had been nearly forty-five minutes past four, which was when he was supposed to pick me up from my art class. The class wasn’t mandatory for school; it was for my own pleasure. There was something incredibly calming about holding a paintbrush in my hand and escaping to a world of shapes and color for two hours every weekend.

            Finally, as if my dad had somehow heard the plea in my head, his silver Audi came rolling up the street. I sprang up from my seat on the cracked steps and jogged to the edge of the sidewalk. The shining silver car slowed to a stop and I flung the door open and hopped in, sinking into the cushiony black leather seats.

            “I’m sorry I’m so late,” my dad said, looking up at me briefly from his Blackberry. “But Uncle Sunho really needed me.”

            “For what?” I asked, worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

            “Oh, everything’s just fine, sweetie.” My dad smiled as he put down the Blackberry and started driving again. “He needs my help on a project.”

            “Project?” I questioned.

            “Yup,” Dad said. He stole a glance at me from the road ahead of him. “That man has some big ideas.”

            “What kind of ideas, Dad?” I asked curiously.

            “He’s produced another band,” Dad replied.

                “Really?” I asked excitedly, looking at my father with a grin.

                Dad nodded. “It was only a matter of time before he’d give himself a second chance,” he smiled.

                “So what does he want you to do?” I asked, not understand how my uncle’s business connected with my dad running 45 minutes late.

                “He wants me to help him,” Dad said. “As his financial advisor.”

                “Dad, that’s great!” I cried. If we hadn’t been in the car, I would have thrown my arms around him and hugged him tightly. My dad owned his own tax business, and was a total whiz with numbers, budgeting, and solving problems; some things I had definitely inherited from him.

                “So do you know anything about the band?” I asked.

                “Well, let’s see,” Dad scratched his chin, feigning his “deep in thought” face, which made me giggle. “All I know is he’s found six very talented young men…or was it seven?”

                “I hope they succeed,” I said wistfully.

                “I do too. Uncle Sunho’s working his tail off for them.” Dad smiled but shook his head, as if he was dumbfounded at Uncle Sunho’s work ethic.

                At that very moment, the Blackberry went off. Dad grabbed the buzzing device and averted his eyes quickly from the road onto the phone. “There he is again.” He said as he pressed a button with his thumb and swiftly held the phone up to his ear. “Hello again,” he chuckled. “I just had to pick up Kirin from…oh, really? Yes I can do that…right now? At this very second? Can I drop of Kirin first…yes, she’s with me…well I don’t know, maybe…yes…one moment,” Dad held the phone away from his mouth, “Would you like to meet the band?”

                A huge smile spread across my face. “I’d love to!” I chirped.

                Chuckling, Dad replied, “Yeah, Sunho, we’ll be there in twenty minutes…alright, I’m sure! Talk to you soon, Goodbye.” He clicked a button on his phone and set it down in the cup holder. “He says we’re in for a real treat.”

                The silver Audi pulled into a parking lot surrounded by dozens of skyscrapers. We were in the heart of Seoul, in the business district. This was where all the big business took place. There were steel skyscrapers everywhere you turned; each of them towered above you at what seemed like five hundred meters. All of them had massive glass windows as if they were made entirely of glass. They certainly were impressive. I had only been to this section of Seoul once before, but I had never drank in the scene as I had just now.

                “Big, right?” My dad chuckled. “Yeah, the skyscrapers here are really something.”

                “They’re so huge!” I marveled, fascinated with them. The art geek in me was fawning over the architecture like fangirls over 2PM’s abs.

                “Alright, alright, we’ve really gotta go meet Uncle Sunho. He’s got some paperwork he’d like me to take home and we’ve got to see our ‘treat’.”

                I followed my dad through the parking lot and out to the front of one of the more modest looking buildings. It didn’t tower above the other ones, but it still was of noticeable size. At the very top right hand corner of the front of the building was a sign that read T.O.P MEDIA in neon blue letters. The whole building seemed to be covered in windows from top to bottom, with the exception of the very first and last floors. There were gray cement steps leading up to the front doors, decorated on either side with small dirt patches of tulips. I bounced up the steps right behind my father to the front doors, which were two sleek pieces of curved glass with stainless steel handles. Dad jerked on the handles and we strolled inside.

                The ground floor of the building was a perfect square. It had white marble floors, white walls and a white popcorn ceiling. The room was so perfectly symmetrical, as if both sides were exact mirror images of each other. If there was a white leather couch on one side, there was the exact same one across the room from it. On both side walls was a row of elevators with mirrors for doors. There was a dark haired receptionist sitting behind a white countertop in the center typing away on an efficient-looking Mac computer. She had short raven-colored hair and wore a white power suit.

                Bowing a quick greeting to the receptionist, my father and I headed straight for the first elevator on the right side. I followed close behind him, marveling over how white everything was. The secretary was even wearing white!

                “What floor is he on?"

                “His office is on the second floor but he said to go to the twelfth floor first.”

                 “The twelfth floor? Is that the very top?” I asked.

                 “Yup.” Dad nodded. “That’s where the treat is.”

                 “What kind of treat?” I asked curiously. “The band?”

                “Maybe,” Dad shrugged, offering a curious smile.

               When the doors opened, my father and I stepped out into a long hallway lined with windows on the left hand side. On the right hand side, all the way down at the other side, was a plain white wall with a big white door marked PRACTICE ROOM.

                “Practice room?” I questioned excitedly, looking up at my dad with wide eyes.

                “I guess so.” Dad shrugged, chuckling a little. We marched up to the door and my dad slowly pulled open the door.

                The square room had white walls, small rectangular windows at the very top of the walls, and gray wooden floors. There were mirrors on the back wall and both sides and a fan in the far left corner. Ballet bars lined the center of the right wall, and a big black stereo system in the right corner, loudly playing a song I had never heard before. Uncle Sunho was standing in front of the center of the wall of mirrors, his arms on his hips. He wore gray sweat pants, a plain white t-shirt and worn white Sketchers. He seemed to be supervising the practice performance that was occurring right this moment.

                There were six boys, one with black hair, three with brown, one with all his hair tucked inside a black beanie and one wearing a black fedora. They all wore sweatpants and t-shirts and the same chunky black sneakers with white bottoms. They danced gracefully and with ease, like they had been training their entire life. I’d never heard the song before, but sounded pretty catchy.

                “I’m so cra-cra-crazy,” a tall boy with spiky brown hair lip-synced.

                “Clap, clap, clap, clap, mad man,” the boy with the black beanie mouthed.

                “Cra-cra-crazy,” a short, dark haired boy lip-synced.

                “Clap, clap, clap, clap, mad man,” Beanie mouthed again.

                “Maybe I can't stop. Look at me going crazy. I remember you again, I'm crying and laughing,” a wavy-haired boy mouthed.

                The choreography was rather impressive. The all clapped at the same time, in perfect uniformity. Each was a skilled dancer, the tall boy with spiky brown hair in particular. The kid with the beanie, however, looked somehow mesmerizing to me.

                I’d like to say I watched everyone evenly, but I’d be lying. I watched the beanie kid. He didn’t even have any major parts, like wavy-haired kid did, but there was something about him that I found enjoyable to watch. There was something about him that wouldn’t let me take my eyes off him even if I tried. The way he moved, the way his eyes squinted, the way he smirked…it was all strangely captivating.

                The boys finished out the song strongly, with impressive head-whipping and fancy footwork. I watched their faces as the song came to an end. The second the music stopped, their faces went from serious and fierce to soft and friendly. The short boy with black hair threw his hands in the air and cried “WOOO!” and the beanie boy threw his head back and laughed. He had a deep, dorky-sounding, almost playful laugh. Suddenly his hands flew to his head and he slid off his black beanie, revealing a head of platinum blonde hair. He shook his head vigorously from side to side, running his fingers through the pin-straight strands. He gave the stylish bowl-cut once last shake and jerked his head, letting his light colored hair sweep perfectly across his forehead. I secretly watched in awe.

                My father’s applause brought me back to reality, as well as smiles to the six boys’ faces. One boy with chestnut hair smiled a perfect, pearly white smile, beaming proudly. Blondie dropped his head, grinning shyly.

                “Well, Chanho-hyung, Kirin, how’d you like your treat?” Uncle Sunho exclaimed, beaming proudly.

                It always amazed me how my uncle and father could possibly be related. Dad was much older than his younger brother Sunho. Uncle Sunho was 30 and my father was in his mid 40’s. The biggest difference, probably, was the fact that my uncle Sunho was known by most as Andy, a member of Shinhwa, a famous Korean boy band from 1998. My uncle was one of the best rappers I had ever heard in my life; I’m pretty sure my dad was tone-deaf.

                “Sunho, I’m proud of you! Nice work, boys!” my dad declared proudly, receiving six grateful thank-yous and bows.

                “You guys are amazing!” I marveled.

                Uncle Sunho laughed. “Glad you think so! How’s it going, kiddo?” he asked, giving me a big hug. Uncle Sunho was always my favorite uncle. He was young, current, loved making jokes and had always been the most fun person in my family.

                “Pretty good, Uncle Sunho,” I said, hugging him tightly.

                When we let the embrace go, Uncle Sunho clapped once and turned his attention to the six panting boys. “Why don’t you introduce yourselves?” he suggested proudly.

                “Hello, we are the emotional teen pop band TEEN TOP!” the six boys chanted at the same time, bowing at the same time.

                Uncle Sunho clapped and smiled broadly.

                “Impressive,” my father marveled.

                I knew my fair share of Korean pop idols enough to be familiar with the normal greeting they all used. I’d been to music shows like Music Core and Inkigayo dozens of times with my friends. We tried to go Music Bank every Friday, as a matter of fact. I’d seem hundreds of idols perform, and I’ve even met a few of them; I met SHINee twice, 2PM twice, Super Junior once and Wonder Girls once.

                “Well, introduce yourselves individually!” Uncle Sunho said to the boys. “This is perfect practice!”

                The boys looked at each other nervously, unsure which one of them should go first. I’m ashamed to say it, but, I had my eyes secretly glued to the blonde boy, silently begging him to introduce himself as soon as possible.

                After a brief moment of hesitation, one of them spoke up. He was tall and muscular, wearing dark red sweatpants and a tight, black, sleeveless shirt that showed off his tone torso and biceps. He took of his fedora before he spoke, revealing a head of short black hair, shaven close to his scalp on the sides but spiky at the top. There were two zigzag stripes shaved on the right side of his head. He had a handsome, perfectly chiseled face, his pointed nose perfectly straight, his jaw line sharp and his dark eyes narrow. “Hello, I’m Teen Top’s Charismatic Rapper and Leader C.A.P!” he declared with a sweet smile that softened his edgy look. He bowed, and my dad and I clapped.

                “Hello, I’m Teen Top’s Power Voice Chunji!” the next boy said. He was fairly short and thin with chestnut colored hair that swept flawlessly across his forehead. He had extremely pearly white; his perfectly straight teeth seemed to illuminate when he grinned. His eyes turned the shape of rainbows as he grinned charmingly and his face was perfectly smooth, free of any imperfections. He wore a loose yellow t-shirt and gray sweat pants, one of the pant legs rolled up to his knee. We applauded his introduction and he bowed.

                 “Hello, I’m Teen Top’s Mischievous Rapper L.Joe,” stated the boy with platinum blonde hair. He was quite petite as well, standing slightly shorter and thinner than the boy with chestnut colored hair. He had a round face and a round chin, perfectly clear skin and a flat nose that was slightly pointed at the end. He had full pink lips, perfectly shaped like the letter M. His dark, almond-shaped eyes shone brightly and his pin-straight white-blonde hair swept across his forehead to the left. He fumbled with the black beanie in his fidgety hands as his smiley eyes darted between my father and me. He was dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversized red t-shirt. On his feet were chunky, high-top DC sneakers. Dad and I applauded his introduction as well. I was careful not to clap too loudly.

                “Hello, I’m Teen Top’s Emotional Voice Niel!” cried a tall boy with long, brown wavy hair. He had shapely, full lips and almond shaped eyes outlined in black eyeliner. His big, beautiful eyes shone like glass in the sunlight. He was tall with gaunt arms and legs. He wore gray drawstring sweatpants and a baggy black t-shirt that could have been two sizes smaller to fit him perfectly. Father and I applauded and he smiled, bowing quickly.

                “Hello, I’m Teen Top’s Lovely Boy, Ricky!” chirped a young-looking boy with black hair cut across his forehead. He was rather short as well, but not as pole-thin as the eye-catching Blondie. He had a cute round face and smiley eyes with a button nose. He was dressed in a lime green t-shirt with a comical cartoon monkey plastered on the front and black sweatpants, one of the pant legs stylishly rolled up to his knee. Dad and I clapped for him too, and he bowed dramatically, giggling.

                “Hello, I’m Teen Top’s Dance Boy Changjo,” exclaimed a tall boy with short dark brown hair, the front slightly spiked up. His hair had been streaked with shades of lighter brown. He had smiling eyes just like the one before him, and had a round face like him as well. He was rather tall, had wide shoulders and a long torso matched with lengthy, powerful legs. His voice was deep despite his young baby face. He wore a plain gray v-neck t-shirt and black sweatpants with wide gray stripes on the sides. His smile was charming and innocent. Dad and I clapped for him, too, as he bowed shyly.

                “Very impressive! Pleasure to meet all of you,” my dad said bowing slightly to the six dongsaengs.

                “N-nice to m-meet you guys,” I stuttered. Why did I stutter? I’ve never stuttered before. Perhaps it was because I couldn’t take my eyes off the blonde boy. There was something…appealing about him that I couldn’t put my finger on.

                His eyes met mine. Eye contact. He cracked a white smile.

                Oh, that was it. He was gorgeous.

                “I have the papers I’d like you to look over in my office. Mind taking a walk with me, hyung?” Uncle Sunho asked my father.

                “Of course not,” my father turned to me. “I won’t be long. Unless you’d like to come with us.”

                “Um,” I muttered uncomfortable, sharing my glance between my father, uncle, and the six boys beside me.

                “Um, she can hang out here, sir,” Muscle Boy suggested.

                “Well?” my dad shrugged, looking at me.

                “Uh, yeah, I-I think I’ll hang out here for a few minutes,” I blurted, trying not to look at the blonde boy’s expression.

                “Alright,” my dad said slowly. He gave me a look but I averted his gaze. He and my uncle turned to walk out the door and down the hall.

                The second they were gone, the boy with short black hair blurted, “So Andy-sunbae is your uncle?”

                “Uh, yeah,” I said, secretly watching the blonde boy’s reaction. We made eye contact again but he dropped his gaze, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

                “L.Joe-ah, what’re you smiling about?” the chestnut-haired boy teased, punching his arm slightly.

                “Nothing. Practice went well,” Blondie said flatly. His voice was deep but not as deep as, say, my father’s. I wondered instantly how old he was, but I didn’t dare ask.

                “That’s cool!” wavy haired-boy exclaimed.

                “So you name is Kirin?” chestnut-haired boy spoke up.

                “Yes,” I responded.

                “Kirin…that’s a pretty name,” chestnut-haired boy said kindly.

                I smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

                “It’s really pretty,” spiky-haired boy chirped.

                 “Thank you…” I trailed off, not remembering the boy’s name.

                “Changjo. My real name’s Jonghyun, but you call me Changjo if you want,” he smiled innocently, slightly batting his long eyelashes.

                “Thank you, Changjo.” I said with a sincere smile.

                “Andy-sunbae’s worked really hard for our debut to be successful,” the muscular boy spoke up after an awkward silence passed.

                “Yeah, he’s a really hard worker,” I said, stealing a glance at the blonde boy.

                “We’re all really excited it turned out so well,” chestnut-haired boy said excitedly.

                “I am SO PUMPED!” the small dark-haired boy dazzled, spinning dizzily in a circle. The other boys chuckled.

                Because I was watching Blondie like a hawk, I saw him exchange glances with the chestnut-haired boy. Blondie smiled slightly and looked away from chestnut-haired boy.

                “Whataya think?” I overhead the chestnut-haired boy said.

                “Of what?” Blondie asked.

                Chestnut-haired boy rolled his eyes. “You know.”

                “Ah,” Blondie smiled with his eyes. They were the same shape as rainbows. “I don’t know.”

                “We’ll talk later?” chestnut-haired boy was smiling with his eyes.

                “Oh yeah,” Blondie chuckled.

                “So how old are you?” the young black-haired boy blurted suddenly.

                “Ricky-ah, that’s rude,” the muscular one scolded.

                “Sorry, I was just curious,” Ricky confessed innocently.

                “Oh, no don’t worry, it’s alright. I’m seventeen.” I said with a little smile. One of the things I loved the most about Korea was the way ages worked; I got to be a year older than I really was.

                I haven’t lived in Korea my entire life. I was actually born in America, in California to be exact. My family moved to Korea about five years ago. I grew up speaking both English and Korean, and I was already familiar to Korean customs, so making the move overseas hadn’t been a big deal. I actually really liked living in South Korea; Seoul was one of the most beautiful places on earth.

                “I’m almost sixteen, but people say I look older than that because I’m so tall,” Changjo said, sitting up straighter, smiling proudly as if he was trying to impress.

                “No they don’t,” Muscle Boy said flatly, which made everyone laugh.

                “I’m almost seventeen!” the wavy haired boy chirped.

                “We’re already seventeen,” chestnut-haired boy said matter-of-factly, sticking his chin out in Blondie’s direction. Blondie nodded and they high-fived.

                “Really?” I asked. I wasn’t asking that to the chestnut-haired boy. I was asking that to the blonde one…Joe, was that his name?

                Blondie smiled and nodded. “Actually, I’m almost eighteen,” he said, tilting his chin up slightly, smirking.

                “Hyung, no you’re not,” Ricky retorted.

                “Four months,” Blondie said, slapping his hat on his blonde hair, looking down at the floor.

                August...September…October…November! His birthday was in November.

                 “I’m older than you all! I’m nineteen,” Muscle boy—or man—replied proudly, sitting up.

                “You’re old, Minsoo-hyung!” Ricky cried, which made the boys laugh. I only heard Blondie’s laugh.

                “Kirin, we’re all set to go,” my dad said, suddenly appearing in the doorway with Uncle Sunho.

                “You have to go already?” Changjo asked.

                “Why you ask that, Changjo?” Uncle Sunho asked with a smirk.

                “Because she just got here!” Changjo cried.

                My uncle laughed. “Sorry boys, but I don’t think Kirin and her father want to stick around here.”

                “Oh, I’d hate to interrupt your practicing,” I spoke up.

                “We’re not practicing,” wavy-haired boy stated. The six boys cracked up.

                “Ah-hah, is that right?” Uncle Sunho chuckled. He checked his watch. “Well, you’ve worked hard for three hours today.” he clapped once loudly. “Break for an hour.”

                “YES!” Ricky and the wavy-haired boy threw their hands up and started wiggling-slash-dancing in victory. The remaining four breathed sighs of relief and like a switch had been flipped, completely relaxed. Blondie slapped the beanie back on his head.

                “Kirin, you’re welcome to stay for their break if you want.” Uncle Sunho shrugged.

                “I, uh, are you sure?” I hooked a strand of hair behind my ear.

                “It’s up to you, kiddo,” Sunho chuckled.

                 “Um…yeah, sounds fun,” I said finally. “I’d like to stay here a while.” I smiled at my father sweetly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blondie crack a smile.

                “Well, I’ll walk you out, hyung,” Uncle Sunho suggested.

                “Alright then,” My father responded. “Kirin…just call me and I’ll come pick you up, I guess, alright? You have your phone, right?”

                “Of course, Father,” I said with a sweet smile. “I’ll let you know.”

                “Okay.” He nodded.  “Nice meeting you, boys!” he called to the band members.

                “Nice meeting you too!” they bowed.

                “I’ll be right back, boys! Captain, you’re in charge!” Uncle Sunho threw a pointed finger at Muscle Boy’s, who nodded in reply, accepting the appointment.

                Uncle Sunho and my dad turned to leave. In a matter of seconds, we heard them laughing down the hallway.

                The second they were gone, all six boys collapsed to the floor.

                “My feet are killing me,” Ricky, kicking off his shoes.

                “Mine are too,” chestnut-haired boy nodded in agreement.

                “You know, you can sit too,” Muscle Boy said to me, glancing over his shoulder.

                Shrugging, I awkwardly sat cross-legged between Muscle Boy and Ricky. Blondie was seated between Muscle Boy and chestnut-haired boy. His head was turned to the latter; they always seemed to be whispering to each other.

                 “So, are you a trainee for T.O.P Media?” Muscle Boy asked.

                I let out a little laugh. “Oh, God no, I’m a horrible singer,” I giggled. “I’m a student.”

                “Ah, I’m sure you’re not that bad,” Changjo spoke up with a darling smile.

                “Oh, I am,” I laughed in response.

                “Niel and Chunji-hyungs have amazing voices,” Ricky said with smiling eyes.

                “Yeah, they do,” Muscle Boy nodded. “L.Joe and I do the rapping.” He threw a nod towards Blondie, who smirked and nodded proudly.

                Ah, yes. L.Joe; that was his name.

                “Changjo and Ricky are good dancers,” the pretty chestnut-haired boy said, jerking his head to flip his hair towards the small dark-haired boy and Changjo. What was his name again? Chun…Chunji?

                “Dance Boy Changjo!” Changjo announced proudly, sitting up straighter and saluting.

                “I do the solo dance in Clap,” Ricky beamed proudly.

                “Ah, you were good!” I smiled in his direction, and he bowed in return.

                “L.Joe-ah, you’re a good dancer too,” Muscle Boy said in Blondie’s direction.

                L.Joe shrugged. “You are too, C.A.P-hyung.”

                “Alright, alright, we’re all awesome.” Chunji chuckled. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Tell us about yourself.”

                “Me?” I asked meekly.

                Chunji nodded vigorously.

                I hated being put on the spot like that. I had no idea what to say next. I wasn’t used to talking about myself; there wasn’t much to talk about. I was a high school overachiever who dreamed of being a pediatrician. Exciting, right?

                “Ah, I don’t know what to say,” I confessed, feeling my cheeks turn pink. “I guess…I’m in grade ten right now. And, uh, I go to Seoul Science High School—”

                The boys’ eyes lit up. “Seoul Science High School?” Chunji boy repeated.

                “No way!” C.A.P marveled.

                I felt my cheeks turn red. “Um, yeah.”

                “Isn’t that school really hard to get into?” Chunji boy asked.

                I shrugged. “Yeah, kind of. I want to be a doctor someday, and my parents are really tough on me about grades.”

                Blondie was shaking his head slowly in amazement. “I’ve always wanted to go there,” he said quietly, to no one particular.

                My stomach did a summersault. “Really?” I asked shyly.

                Blondie gave a slight nod. “I wanted to be a cardiologist.”

                “What?” C.A.P asked bluntly.

                “Ah,” Blondie hung his head, his cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t always want to be an idol. I wanted to be a doctor.”

                As if Blondie wasn’t already doing an amazing job at grabbing my attention. As if Blondie wasn’t already attractive to me. This could not be happening. Where were the hidden cameras? Had someone read my non-existent diary and put every piece of my ideal man together like a puzzle before me to shine in all his glory? I was floored; he was smart and pretty.

                “Well, maybe sometime Kirin can tell you about it,” C.A.P chuckled. Blondie smiled. My heart was skipped a beat. Maybe I needed a cardiologist.

                “What else?” C.A.P pressed.

               “Um,” I racked my brain for something interesting about myself. They already knew my uncle was Andy; there wasn’t much else of interest. “Oh! I speak English.”

                “L.Joe-hyung knows English!” Ricky practically shot out of his seat. All eyes flew to L.Joe, who smiled shyly.

                I was intrigued. “You speak English?” I asked, in English.

                “I lived in America for five years,” Blondie answered back in perfect English. He spoke practically sans-accent. I was impressed.

                “Cool,” I smiled, admiring him momentarily.

                “Do you have a boyfriend?” Ricky blurted out of nowhere.

                It took me a minute to snap out of my English conversation. “Uh, no,” I squeaked, embarrassed.

                 Blondie leaned closer in the circle.

                “You don’t?” Chunji asked.

                “No,” I repeated flatly, feeling self-conscious. “Is that bad?”

                “No,” Chunji shrugged, “you just seemed like you would.”

                “Well, at my school we’re not supposed to have those kinds of relationships. If you get caught in a relationship with another student like that, you get punished. School’s supposed to be a place to learn, not find a date.” I shrugged. Seeing their surprised expressions, I quickly added, “Well, that’s just what my school says, at least.”

                “I’ve heard of schools like that,” wavy-haired boy—Niel, was that his name?—replied.

                “So you’ve never had a boyfriend?” Changjo questioned.

What was with the fascination of my love life? “No, that’s not true. I’ve had boyfriends before.”

                Unfortunately, everyone oooh-ed. But fortunately, I seemed to have captured Blondie’s full attention. His eyes were locked on me like I was giving the world’s most interesting lecture.

                “Well I haven’t had that many.” I shrugged. “Maybe two or three.”

                “I think that’s more than all of us combined,” C.A.P laughed. The others laughed in agreement. Even Blondie, who dropped his gaze shortly afterward.

                I shrugged. “You guys are idols, though! And you’re young. So that’s totally normal.”

                “We’re not idols yet,” C.A.P leaned back and stretched out his long legs. “We won’t be until we debut.”

                “Did you make a music video yet?” I asked.

                They all nodded excitedly. “We finished filming it about two weeks ago,” Chunji chirped.

                “It’s going to be released in a few days!” The young-looking dark-haired boy chirped.

                “Awesome!” I smiled genuinely. “I’ll have to watch for it. I’m a music critic in my spare time, you know.”

                Six pairs of eyes widened in amazement. I burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” I laughed.

                “Not funny!” Niel cried.

                 “Why’d you laugh then?” Ricky giggled.

                “Yah, shut up!” Niel argued.

                “I think like this girl,” C.A.P smirked. He nodded in approval, ignoring his noisy dongsaengs. Chunji and Changjo smiled and nodded in agreement, but all I saw was Blondie’s hidden smile.