You stretched your arms as your felt the wind blowing at you with your eyes closed. You were at the top row of the gallery, waiting to start your job. Suddenly you heard screams, so you know some star had just walked into the area. You quickly ran down the stairs to see who had arrived. Luckily for you, you were stationed near the entrance of the gallery, so you could see all the stars enter before they went into the tentage. A group of boys walked in and you immediately knew who they were. How can you mistake the few giants in the band of 12?

“It’s EXO!” you exclaimed in Korean, pointing your finger at them. You had that habit of exclaiming in Korean, what with shows like Running Man and other variety shows. Surprisingly, the band turned around and looked at the group of ushers standing all around the gallery. Some of the boys waved at you as they walked, and you took to waving back at them. Knowing their customs, you attempted to bow to the stars but missed to notice the bar in front of you. Needless to say, your forehead kissed the bar hard. Your hand smacked to the throbbing pain in your head as you straightened up. You opened your eyes and saw that some of the boys had stopped, looking at you with concern.

“Kwaenchanayo?” You waved your other hand at them to tell them not to worry. They continued to walk, some of them still looking at you. Your friend working there with you came up to you and checked up on you. She told you that the red spot on your forehead would dissipate after some time, thankfully before the concert begins. You walked back up to your station and sat there in the heat, watching the rehearsals and sound checks.

“Ni mei shi mah?” a foreign accent came from behind you. You turned and to your surprise saw EXO’s Chen standing there. He was in shirts and jeans, with sunglasses to prevent eye contact and recognition. You quickly bowed to him, speechless at his appearance. He jumped down a few rows and sat down next to you. “Ni mei shi mah?” he repeated. “Ni gang chai…” He pointed at his own forehead and to the bar at the bottom of the gallery. “Errr…”

“Kwaenchanayo. Keokjong maseyo,” you said quickly, seeing him struggling with his Mandarin.

He looked at you with surprise. “You know Korean?” he asked in Korean.

“Just some,” you replied in Korean too. “I learned it and studied for a while in Korea.” Your ability to converse in Korean was not very strong and he could tell by your accent and pauses. Nevertheless, he could understand what you were saying.

You exchanged names and conversed a little as both of you watched his seniors rehearse. You told him that you were an ELF but liked other groups too, including his. When your capacity of Korean was maxed out, you tried Mandarin, English, and sign language. The same was for him. He would try Mandarin first, though, because you requested that he spoke in Mandarin. He could use all the practice he could get. When he couldn’t find the words in Mandarin, Korean came in and then English. If not, Google translate proved somewhat useful a pal.

You offered some nice words of English and Mandarin for him to learn and tell his fans, which he gladly accepted. You laughed at his effort to perfect the lines and he laughed with you too. Of course, then turned some heads near you and attracted a few fan ushers. They came with their phones to ask for a picture with Chen, which you helped to take for each of them. After they left, Chen apologized for having taken up your time and energy to take those photos, but you said it was ok. You told