It wasn't until I showed up at T.O.P Media headquarters for the meeting that I remembered the company's CEO was Andy Lee. When that reality struck me, I almost walked out. Not only was I in a major entertainment company to meet with a real music mogul, but that music mogul was the legendary Andy Lee? It was too much.

When I heard things about how people's legs would get weak and give up on them in a tight spot I always thought they were being melodramatic. I had a very tangible fear of falling over as I made my way to the meeting room, however. My knees felt like they couldn't bend all the way and that handicap left them shakey and effete on top of it. For some reason I couldn't always pick my feet up all the way either; during some steps it was more like I dragged the tops of my shoes across the floor. I stumbled a few times before my mother said something about it.

"Are you really that nervous?" she said from the corner of , walking beside me. I didn't answer. I was really that nervous and it obviously showed. "Nothing bad's going to happen, Sol Mi. You didn't do anything wrong so there's no reason to be afraid of whatever they want to talk to you about."

"But why do they want to talk to me? I didn't do anything..."

That part bothered me the most. I didn't know what to expect because I really didn't know what I'd done. I'd freaked out during filming, yes, but what did that mean to T.O.P Media? Or were they reaching out to me for some other reason that was completely unknown to me? How was I supposed to not worry when I couldn't pre-plan my defense?

At least the interior of the building wasn't as intimidating as it could have been. The floors weren't marble and there were no chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It looked like a normal workplace full of normal offices and normal business people. There was some music paraphernalia scattered around, like framed posters on some of the walls, but it almost felt like the company itself was a fan of certain artists rather than the home of them. The grandeur wasn't so in-your-face, and that gave me a little comfort.

"Don't worry about it," was all my mom could keep telling me as we moved. I knew she couldn't relate to what I was going through because she didn't know the full extent of what I was going through, but I was still glad to have her there. Even if we didn't get along that often, there were certain situations where a girl just needed her mommy.

 
I tried to think idle thoughts to keep myself from loosing it until we made it to the meeting room. The secretary had directed us to an office, but the name on the door wasn't Andy Lee's. I'd never heard of Ho Mmoon-Joon, the man whose name that was on the door, but he was apparently important enough to stike fear into my heart regardless.

My mom knocked and stepped back to wait beside me until Mmoon-Joon answered. I sort of expected that he'd just call for us to come in, but I was vaguely impressed when he took the time to walk over and greet us himself.

It seemed like everyone involved in the music industry, whether behind the scenes or center stage, had some kind of star quality to them. Mmoon-Joon was a middle-aged man but he had a certain air of youth about him. Going on looks alone, he could have passed as a seasoned idol with his smooth skin, bright smile, and neatly styled hair. Something about him made me less concerned about my fate but simultaneously more concerned about my image.

"Hwangyong-hamnida," Mmoon-Joon greeted us kindly, stepping aside and extending an arm to welcome us into his office. "I'm Ho Mmoon-Joon, T.O.P Media's chief operations officer. It's nice to meet you both."

My mother and I bowed and returned the greeting, taking turns accepting Mmoon-Joon's offered handshake. I did my best not to look too overwhelmed. What exactly was a chief operations officer? Did that mean he was second in command to Andy Lee? Was he going to report to Andy Lee about me? What kind of impression was I supposed to be making? Should I have been submissive while shaking his hand or done it more firmly, like a real business person?

Mmoon-Joon directed my mother and I to two chairs that sat opposite to his desk. When all three of us were settled, Mmoon-Joon regarded my mother and I for a moment. It was a little uncomfortable being at the receiving end of scrutiny, but Mmoon-Joon's didn't seem critical, just curious.

"You're Sol Mi-ssi's mother, I assume?" Mmoon-Joon asked my mother, who confirmed. Now that we were in the hot seats, my mother was smiling a little too widely, something I took to mean she wasn't as cocksure as she'd been in the halls. Did that mean she knew what a chief operations officer was? Was I supposed to be worrying now that I was sitting in front of one?

"Which means," Mmoon-Joon went on, shifting his attention to me. I caught his eye but was too jittery to tell myself to smile. "...that you must be Sol Mi-ssi."

It wasn't a question but I nodded anyway, leaning forward in my chair for another bow. Mmoon-Joon grinned at my display. The gesture was pleasant rather than mocking but it still made me blush and look away, scraping my upper teeth over my lower lip.

"You've become quite a sensation, haven't you, Sol Mi-sshi?" Mmoon-Joon commented. I wanted to agree just for simplicity, but I was also confused. My expression probably translated as blank since I couldn't decide which reaction to go with.

Was I a sensation? What did that even mean? I was famous in my school, I guess, but it wasn't like anyone else who knew I was. They just knew me as that blurred-out face girl who made a fool of herself on TV.

Unless people from my school had spread my face and name around. Would they have done that? I hadn't even thought of that.

Were people I didn't even know talking about me? Did strangers all across South Korea -- no, across the globe -- watch me cry in front of Teen Top and start blogs or threads about me? Did I have my own fans? Antis?

Oh, God....

"At any rate," Mmoon-Joon continued, his voice a pitch louder to snap me out of it. I re-devoted my attention to him. "Lee Sa Jang himself took notice of you and wanted to make you an offer. He couldn't be here to deliver the message himself, unfortunately, but he asked me to pass it on in his place."

Lee Sa Jang? As in President Andy Lee? Even he'd seen the footage of me crying in front of Teen Top?

"If it's alright with your parents," Mmoon-Joon began, glancing towards my mother in acknowledgment before refocusing on me, "Lee Sa Jang would like to offer you a role in one of Teen Top's music videos.”

There was no predominant response from either my heart or head, so again I just looked at Mmoon-Joon without an expression, like a moron.

“I can’t act,” I told him. The confession just fell out.  How long had it taken me to respond in the first place? How long had I been a zombie?

“That’s fine,” Mmoon-Joon told me, sending me another grin. “It wouldn’t be a starring role. You’d be more like an extra. But the experience would still be something to remember, I promise you.”

I didn’t doubt it would be something I would remember. The experience at the store had been something to remember, too. You didn’t always remember something because it was a fond memory. Why were all of these experiences and memories being shoved at me?

“You have plenty of time to consider it,” Mmoon-Joon said, sitting back in his chair as if to give me more room to breathe. Was I that easy to read? (Or maybe I honestly was that bad at acting?). “Teen Top has another comeback coming up, but it’s a little late to fit you into that schedule. There’s another tentative comeback date set for August, so we’d just need to hear back from you and finalize things by the start of summer. Filming will most likely be in July, so we should start planning by June.”

It was a lot to take in, and I could feel it all just floating around as a jumbled mess in my head. But I nodded anyway. My far-away eyes most likely gave away my ignorance.

"Will you be able to give us any more details?" my mother asked. I would usually be annoyed by her stepping out and involving herself in my life, but it wasn't like I was in any state to ask questions or make decisions. I did invite her along for support and protection, so she was only doing her job.

"Sure," Mmoon-Joon replied. "As soon as we figure out more of the details ourselves, we can relay them to you in another message." The COO turned his gaze back to me after that. There was a twinkle in his eye that, while still not negative, made me feel extra shy. "To be honest, we don't know too much for ourselves yet. I suppose we were a little presumptuous in expecting you to agree right away, Sol Mi-ssi. But it's good to see that you're not so impulsive. You should always make sure you understand a situation fully and read the fine print before jumping in. This is a cut-throat business, you know."

I pulled my lips up in a toothless smile, only adding a hint of teeth when I realized how ugly my toothless smile was. What was Mmoon-Joon trying to say? Was that a warning? It wasn't like I was trying to get famous; I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be one of the "little people".

The meeting wrapped up after that. A little warily, I exchanged contact information with Mmoon-Joon. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of him but did my best not to be suspicious. I really didn't have any reason to be suspicious other than paranoia, which actually wasn't much of a reason at all.

My mother tried to talk to me on the way home, but I wasn't ready to communicate. I was still too internally contemplative, untangling the facts from my own fantasies.

I was having a lot of trouble accepting the reality that the facts suddenly weren't so different from my own fantasies.

It was funny how my life used to revolve around school. After my existence gained a social component, education became more of a filler between key scenes. My grades didn’t necessarily drop or anything, but being a good student grew to be methodical. Studying and doing my homework and comprehending material had always been a part of my routine, granted, but I’d never approached it all so casually before; once I saw that there were more things to worry about other than my GPA, school almost looked easy. Compared to boys and gossip and general drama, school definitely ranked lower on my list of stressors.

It was actually nice to sit in class and listen to lectures. Nothing and no one could bother me then. I’d never thoroughly enjoyed any of my lessons but at least there was a sense of familiarity with each one, or at least with the overall algorithm of education. I knew if I worked hard I could ace every test and secure a good future. That brought me a sense of comfort. Real life didn’t work that way, and that’s why it scared me. Emotions couldn’t be overcome through perseverance. Some things in life were hit-or-miss games of luck, like fame -- even by association. Not just anyone could train, debut, and be recognized as a true talent. Not everyone could capture the spotlight and handle the spotlight.

I wasn’t one of the people who could do it. Even if I dreamed about being an idol or meeting idols, dreaming and doing were too entirely separate things. I was a dreamer when it came to those sorts of things, not a doer.

But it didn’t matter, because I didn’t want to be an idol. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, but I knew it wouldn’t be an idol. It would be something I would spend sleepless nights writing fifty-page papers for and bury myself in college debts to achieve. It would be something that would bring me security and stability. That’s what I wanted and needed. There were no castles in the air for me.

The Angels were right at home in the clouds, though. As much as I admired my favorite idols I knew my feelings were nothing compared to those fans who were willing to spend any amount of money, time, and energy for the group that had captured their hearts. Even though I considered them a little delusional and irresponsible, I couldn't help but  be envious of a "true" fan's loyalty. I couldn’t help but feel guilty for not leaping at opportunities that others would probably literally kill for. Did that make me a horrible person? I knew I was a coward, but was I an ungrateful coward?

School became less like work because school became a distraction from the full-time job of being a complex human being. But then, at the same time, distracting me from my distraction was a head of blue hair.

Ju Il's blue hair.

It was the talk of the school. No one was outright mean about it, but everyone had noticed. It was a dark shade of blue that you couldn't really tell was dyed in dark light, but under the sun Ju Il's head was the color of the Heart of the Ocean. There were just enough stray sunbeams in the classroom for Ju Il's hair to become a beacon constantly burning in the corner of my eye. The people behind and beside him probably had even more trouble concentrating on their lessons.

Ju Il had always been standoffish and he, despite the physical change, remained that way. He was as cool as ever, ignoring the stares and whispers that tip-toed around him wherever he went. No one seemed willing to approach him with their questions, so I took it upon myself to get the answers everyone wanted.

When I asked Ju Il why he'd done it, he'd only shrugged. "Everyone's dying their hair these days."

That wasn't true. Idols were dying their hair, not real people. Was dyed hair even allowed in school? I didn't think so.

Ju Il had only shrugged that point off, too.  "If I have to dye it back, I have to dye it back. It's not a big deal."

I wanted to know more, like why he had chosen that shade of blue and why he was suddenly -- apparently -- following the crowd when he'd notoriously never cared to, but I kept mum. They were topics for another time, I told myself, when I'd gotten over the shock and felt more comfortable looking at him. Ju Il was a little hard to look at that first day, after all.

He looked like an idol.

I just couldn't escape them.