That night, as I was lying in bed and reflecting on my day, I had the belated realization that L.Joe and Ricky could have recognized me. I spent an entire four seconds having a heart attack before I got over it and settled down, since they obviously hadn't. (Probably.)

When I'd met Teen Top at my family's store, I'd been a hag. No one would have wanted to remember me. Any memory of me would have been limited to a faceless slob wearing her mother's old, stained pants who crawled around on the floor and cried herself to near death. If I were to be remembered for more pleasant reasons, it would have been the me that was at Music Bank, who was hygienic and articulate, at the very least. There were two entirely separate people in question, and I wished I could only claim ownership of the latter.

I did have to acknowledge that L.Joe's staring might have had something to due with some level of recollection on his part, though. I just had to pray that wasn't the case.

I chose to believe that he thought I was pretty instead.

In the end, whether or not L.Joe had known who I was didn't matter. No one else but me and him would ever know I was the same girl from the store. I highly doubted he would release that kind of information to the public (because why would the public care anyway?). I certainly wasn't telling, and neither was he, so the story ended right then and there.

Even if I accepted reality, that didn't mean I was totally okay with it. I still didn't like the idea of an idol knowing how much of a dork I was. (Not that I actually knew that an idol knew how much of a dork I was, but the possibility alone was pretty bad). My worries were momentarily subdue, thankfully, when the weekend ended and I went back to school.

"So you got to meet everyone backstage?"

"That's so cool! Who else did you meet?"

Semmi had had the gift of forward thinking and left her signed CD at home, away from prying eyes and fingers. I, however, had brought mine to class to show off. I only half regretted it. I was a little afraid that it would get damaged somehow, but I got too much of a kick out of being the star of the show to back away from the spotlight.

"Well, there was Teen Top," I said, gesturing to the CD that was being passed around between a good amount of the girls in my class. My eyes were reluctant to leave it. "We talked to A Pink and Boyfriend for a little while after that, too, but that was it. There wasn't a whole lot of time."

"Yeah, idols have busy schedules," one of the girls commented. "At least you got to hang out with a few of them. It would have been awesome if you'd met T-ara, though. Or IU!"

"I wanted to see Hyunseung," I confessed, taking my CD back once everyone had gotten their fill. "But only see him, because I would have died if I'd done anything more than that."

My classmates snickered. "It must have been so awkward watching 'Trouble Maker' in person, huh? It's bad enough just watching that performance on TV."

I didn't get the chance to comment before someone else jumped in.

"I know! I love the song, but the choreography is too much."

"I don't have anything personal against HyunA, but Cube really ruins her image by over-killing the whole 'y' thing."

"I have something personal against HyunA -- she touched Hyunseung! And my Joonie!"

"She's not even that pretty, and her rapping is mediocre."

The conversation broke off into an open discussion about idols in general rather than my first-hand experience with them. A few of the girls who I'd been standing with in the back of the classroom stayed put and kept up the group atmosphere, but others migrated off, either done with the conversation or continuing the conversation elsewhere. I couldn't help but be disappointed that I'd been upstaged so easily, but I shouldn't have expected anything too grand to begin with. I wasn't the type to get noticed, and I wasn't the type who tried particularly hard to get noticed, so that probably translated as the type who didn't deserve to be noticed. I knew I wasn't exactly unpopular, but sometimes I wondered whether getting negative attention was any better than being a pointless prop in the background.

Feeling awkward and insecure, I inched away from the group slowly, half hoping that someone was going to stop me and ask me to stay. No one did, so I gave up on the secrecy and just went back to my desk at a normal pace. There, I my CD and waited for class to start.

Sitting alone and holding my copy of 'It's' made me feel a little stupid, so I put the CD away and resumed my normal wall flower role. Had I been expecting to suddenly become popular just because I had met a few idols and brought in the evidence? It really wasn't that unusual when there were so many fan meetings and performances in the area. Autographs really weren't that exciting anyway; getting a picture would have been better. Why hadn't I thought of that? I probably just looked desperate carrying around a scribbled-on CD like it was the Holy Grail. I'd let the hype get to my head. I was even more of a dork than L.Joe already thought I was.

I puffed out my cheeks and looked around the room. Semmi was in her seat a few rows over, bent over a notebook and hard at work. It was weird that she wasn't up and gossiping with the rest of the girls, actually, since she was much better at that sort of thing than me, but maybe the project she was consumed with was more important than her social life. I needed to find something to do that made it seem like I was too busy for a social life, too.

"So, you like idols?"

True to the typical Ju Il fashion, the question came out of nowhere. I didn't visibly startle but my brain took a second to click into action.

"Yeah, some of them," I answered, turning around in my seat to see Ju Il. He was slouched over his desk, his elbows holding him up and chin in his hands. If his stoic facial expression was anything to go by, he didn't consider his question a fraction as bizarre as most people would have.

Ju Il's eye brow lifted and his gaze dropped to my bag. "What was that group you were talking about? Teen Top?" I nodded, and Ju Il's eyes climbed up to meet mine. "Never heard of them."

It was my turn to raise a brow. "Never heard of them? At all? Really?"

"Well, I've heard of them, but I've never heard any of their songs."

"Not even on the radio?"

"Well, I have heard them on the radio, but I don't go out of my way to listen to them."

I kept staring at Ju Il, waiting for him to say more. He stared back, and it took him a while to realize what I was doing. I could make out a flicker of emotion shooting across his face -- it was too fast for me to pick up on what emotion it was -- before it was gone and he just shrugged.

"They're okay, I guess." A pause. "As far as boy bands go."

There was an awkward moment where neither of us spoke and continued to do nothing but look at each other blankly. When that moment passed, though, I ducked down and pushed my lips together, trying not to smile. Ju Il was one-of-a-kind, and I didn't consider that a bad thing at all.

I limited my smile to my eyes and turned to Ju Il again. "What kind of music do you like, then? Any girl groups?"

Ju Il didn't respond fast enough to beat the teacher's entrance. I faced forward again, scooting myself into a comfortable position, and shot one last look back at Ju Il. He was still watching me but didn't show any sign of wanting to give me an answer. When I caught his eye, he just averted his gaze, watching the teacher prepare our lesson instead.

I let it slide. As apathetic and socially crippled as he was, I thought that Ju Il was a good guy and a good friend. Despite his cool attitude, he'd never been someone who dragged my mood down; he'd only ever brought it up, even if I didn't think he really mean to most of the time. I knew he didn't express himself often, so it definitely made me feel special when he came to me, no matter what the reason was. I was glad to have him in my life, no matter how minor his role.

The only lasting damage Teen Top’s visit to the store had caused was that I stopped taking chances. No matter how lazy I was I always made sure to put at least some effort into my appearance. There was no more old, sloppy clothes, make-up free faces, or knotted hair for me.

You never knew who would be walking through the door when you least expect it.

I wasn’t so ambitious that I went to extremes, though. As long as my eye bags and any blemishes were covered, I considered myself good to go. Being over-done was just as bad as under-done, so I knew how to make simple work for me. I wasn’t necessarily looking to impress anyone, I only didn’t want to offend anyone -- namely myself.

I knew those small steps would pay off some time, just like my carelessness had ruined me one time.

It was just ironic that the pay off came from the same group of boys that had caused the trauma.

It was dark outside, near closing time, and I was alone in the store. Working that late without a chaperone scared me to be perfectly honest, but nothing had ever happened to reinforce that fear. It was just instinct for a girl to be nervous. My parents weren’t particularly thrilled about the arrangement either, but there was no helping it.

Two boys came in, both of them bundled up in hats and scarves and hooded coats. They greeted me, their voices muffled by their clothing, and headed for the refrigerators in the back. I knew it was prejudice to be suspicious of them right off the bat, but that didn’t change the fact that I was.

I fooled around at the cash register to keep myself busy but kept shooting sly glances at the boys. Their coats were definitely thick enough to stash stuff under without it being noticeable, so I didn’t want to give them the chance to steal anything from under my nose. In the back of my mind I knew I wasn't much of a threat to a thief, but the store couldn’t afford to be robbed. I couldn't sit back and do nothing.

The boys' behavior didn't help to throw off my suspicion. Just like I was watching them, they were watching me, only it was more obvious with them since they were craning their necks to look over their shoulders at me every few seconds. My anxiety kicked into high gear when they leaned into each other and started whispering, probably conspiring their next move. Should I call someone? My parents or the police? What if they were armed?

My lips pursed together and my chin curled into my chest when the boys finished their business and made their way to the register. My heartbeat was loud in my ears and I could feel it thumping against my ribs. I didn't think I was visibly shaking, but it sure felt like I was. It was do or die time. I didn't want to die. Was I going to die?

I looked up when the boys made it to the counter, but I couldn't bring myself to smile right away. I sort of just glared at them, scanning them up and down for any signs of concealed weapons or merchandise. I couldn't pick out anything odd with my untrained eyes, but they both had their arms full of an assortment of sports drinks, which they emptied onto the counter. Since the action was innocent enough, I took a closer look at their faces.

It took longer than it should have to click, but after running my eyes over his features a few times, especially the crimson hair sticking out from his beanie, I recognized the taller guy on the left as Chunji. I was a lot faster in identifying L.Joe as his accomplice.

What the hell?

For whatever reason, just like back at Music Bank, I didn't freak out. I focused on my task of checking them out while shooting brief, fleeting glances to check them out. But it would probably be better to say check Chunji out since, again, for whatever reason, I couldn't bring myself to look at L.Joe. My mind must have known I could only handle one at a time, and L.Joe was kind of a Wild Card in my book; our last meeting hadn't been the single most easy-going.

Chunji, who I felt safer examining, looked tired. Unlike me, he couldn't have been wearing any make-up since the shadows under his eyes looked like they were painted on themselves rather than covered up. His skin wasn't glowing like it usually did either, and if I hadn't known his face so well he would have looked just like any other unremarkable, sleep-deprived kid.

In other words, he looked entirely too human to be the Chunji I knew.

The revelation was a erse one, but I figured clinging to it would be my best bet for maintaining my head. Normal boys still made me nervous, but at least I wouldn't forget how to breathe around them.

Once the drinks were rung up and bagged, I had to face Chunji and read off the cost. While he was distracted with counting his money, I studied his face some more. He looked worse than I was used to seeing him, but he was by no means hideous. I'd never been overly attracted to Chunji, but it still wasn't fair that a guy could somehow be so charming even when he looked half dead on his feet. Maybe I only thought that because I knew he was famous, but it still seemed like the world was always brighter on the other side. The truth .

I wasn't quick enough to cover my tracks and pretend I hadn't been watching when Chunji lifted his head to hand over the money, but he sent me a smile, proving that I hadn't offended him and that he was also undoubtedly Teen Top's visual.

We completed the transaction without any words other than formalities, but even after Chunji had his goods and change in hand he didn't move to leave. I'd been feeing pretty in control up until then, but his hesitation was a disproportionately powerful blow to my psyche.

The older members of Teen Top seemed to have some kind of issue with staring at me, because that was what Chunji did instead of leaving. At least his stare wasn't quite as unsettling as L.Joe's had been, nor did it last as long. Chunji only slightly narrowed his eyes towards me, biting his lip in what I could only assume was concentration, before turning to cast a glance to L.Joe. I cast a glance at L.Joe, too, hoping to find a clue, but L.Joe was trading his glance for Chunji's. The game of keep away was infuriating only because I was the one being kept away.

Their nonsensical, silent language meant absolutely nothing to me, but apparently the boys understood each other perfectly. When they were done communicating both made for the door at the same time, chiming their goodbyes and scurrying off into the night. Chunji's voice had carried over to me loud and clear, but L.Joe's was more of a grumble. What was his problem? What was their problem?

I'd been subdued by some kind of cosmic force while in front of the boys, but once they were gone emotions came flooding back to me by the truck load. What was that? Why had they acted so weird? Why had they even been in the store in the first place? Again. After what had happened the last time...

And why did they have to stare at me all the time?

Were they trying to drive me crazy? Was that the concept of some twisted new TV show that I was the unwilling star of? Were their hidden cameras somewhere hoping to catch my second break down?

There were no answers to be found. I could only lay my head on the counter and hope that they never came back. I wanted Teen Top to stay out of my real life and remain in my dreams. I liked them much better there, where they didn't cause me any trouble. Extraordinary was overrated.

Even if the truth , me and my life were ordinary, and things really just needed to stay that way.