A/N:

part ii should be up sooner rather than later if you guys want to read it!

For ease of reference:

things coming after:
- * are set in the "present",
- ** are random interludes (in the past),
- *** are flashback/past recounts sort of thing.

Also like… I’ve only spent… 3 weeks in Seoul in my entire life nor do I know jack about the entertainment industry, so let’s just… not squint at the setting details :”) Hope you guys have fun reading it anyway!

Her manager’s the one who breaks it to her first, his prattle beginning even before he slams the door shut so hard that the car rattles a bit.

“Hey, Kang, guess what, guess what!”

Seulgi jumps at the enthusiasm in Manager Jung’s voice. She’s not seen him so excited in… forever. Perhaps not since he unrolled a copy of the mass-printed poster of the first movie she starred in.

“What’s it? Did they decide that they’d cast me in the next Park Chanwook film?”

Her manager makes a scoffing noise. “Well, I’d let you know if he ever phones for you. Or if Kim-sajangnim will let you go like that. Can you imagine? The boss letting your star in something like Oldboy?”

She chuckles too. “I guess not.”

“Yeah, the boss still thinks you’re a baby.”

“What if I wanted to though? Delve into themes like that?”

Her manager wrinkles his nose, turning to look back at her. “There are ways of taking up an ah, controversial role without and gore, Anyway, we’ll table the discussion for then, if it ever comes, Kang.”

She shrugs. It’s not like she really wanted to spend weeks filming the next Best Action Thriller of the year anytime soon anyway – the stunts in her latest film had been exhausting.

How can her seniors late into their careers ever elect to do their own stunts? She’s still young and as her gym trainer would concede, pretty fit too, and yet rolling around on a mat left her with bruises and muscle aches after some of those marathon filming days.

She starts to hum to a random tune that’s been playing the radio before she realises that he is still waiting for her to ask, “Wait, so what’s got you so excited anyway?”

He’s smiling so widely now that it’s confusing.

“What, is it a sponsorship agreement, Jungppa?”

“No. Well. Kind of. But no. Do you want to guess?”

She rolls her eyes. “Jungppaaaa. Just tell me already.” Then, for good measure, she adds, “You’re so silly.”

He brushes it off like she said it every day. Which, she kind of does, but it’s been so long since she’s been able to get to him in any way.

“Okay. The boss was asking if you were okay with it. You’re famous now – your former company—”

“Wait, you mean SM?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell me you were signed to anyone else before us?”

“No, no…”

But, SM? What could they want with her?

It’s weird, that’s what.

She’s not heard the company’s name for a while now. Or, at least, she doesn’t look up the company.

It’s a little inevitable, seeing the SM pink splattered across the city. Or some Naver headline or other. And Yoona-unnie still wraps her unfairly long arms around her when they meet on the occasion.

She’s long paid off any of her debts to them by now. The breach of contract terms for trainees were, at the very least, a little more favourable than for idols who actually debuted, but still.

“It’s nothing big, per se…” His voice trails off, frowning a bit before shaking anything that dampened his enthusiasm off. “It’s just that they called – wondered if you would be interested in doing a bit of a promotional thing with their girl group. Since you trained for years before and all. And that you actually made it, right? It’ll be a great story. Leaving SM. No hard feelings.”

She opens to protest but shuts it quickly after.

“Like, you left them to pursue your acting dreams… Okay, okay don’t look at me like that I know that it wasn’t your first choice—”

“Jungppa. Stop. Stop. You’re going too fast, slow down. What do they want?”

“I’m not quite sure if Kim-sajangnim left you any room to say no, because it’ll be great for promoting your film – you’re still not quite popular amongst some of the male twenty-somethings and even though Red Velvet’s fanbase is a bit more demographically skewed to the females, they have more male fans than you do. They’ve not really decided on anything yet—Seulgi, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

She closes her eyes and in a deep breath to recompose herself. “Sorry. It’s just. You’re being a bit too much.” Anything to do with SM is a bit too much.

“Yeah, sorry, sorry, it’s just a rather exciting opportunity… A once in a lifetime kind of thing. You’re not getting younger. But they want to do something. A something, I don’t know what, but something. Red Velvet featuring Kang Seulgi. Or Kang Seulgi featuring Red Velvet. Whatever. It’ll be perfect for promoting Ghost in the Shell. We’ll definitely have to go into talks to negotiate the numbers before we finalize anything, I can only imagine that the finances of it would be a bit of a mess… But what do you say?”

She’s not sure if she could quite say no. “Jungppa. Can you just give me my drink?”

“Ah right, sorry about that. You know, the barista was definitely eavesdropping on my phone call, but can we blame her? It’s so exciting… Hang on, do you want to do it?”

She shifts in her seat, pulling on the material of her turtleneck absently. “I don’t know it’s so much as something I want to do. But I agree, it sounds like a great opportunity, whatever it is.”

“That’s good, that’s good...” His voice trails off, a worried crease emerging on his face. “You don’t sound happy about it. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jungppa,”

“Kang.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

He sighs. “You know you can tell me if you don’t want to do this, right? We’ll have to talk to Kim-sajangnim, but he cares about you, in his way. He feels like he owes you a debt, you know.”

“I know. I don’t want to disappoint him either.”

“Aha. Then something is bothering you. Come on, spit it out.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oppa. Just drive.”

“Oppa. Jungppa. Oppa.” He tsks. “You’re in a bad mood. But okay, fine, if you don’t want to tell me why, you can keep your skeletons. Don’t think I get paid enough to be your therapist anyway... But if you don’t want to do this, please tell me now. Or by today. Before our boss gets ahead of himself with SM, alright?”

His voice softens, “It’ll be great if you get another gig to boost your standing and all – good for my paycheque – but if you aren’t up for it, that’s okay. My fiancée wants to see me more often anyway and if you’re always booked…”

This, she laughs at. Her manager’s always complaining about being overworked.

She’s heard him cite his then-girlfriend and current-fiancée’s complaints for years now. She has only met her on a handful of occasions, and with their private lives blurring into work so often already, they agreed that keeping their social groups separate went a long way to maintaining some professional lines between them.

“Thank you, Jungppa. And for the coffee too.”

He sighs, finally stepping on the accelerator. “Anytime. Let me know, okay? Don’t stew too much in your own head, Kang. It’s not good for you.”

*

Seulgi doesn’t hear about it again until a few weeks later.

She knows that something is Up the second she steps into the office, her nose wrinkling at the new paint lingering in the air from their recent move.

Woori from finance peaks at her from behind her office cubicle. Two of the new staff – from marketing, she vaguely remembers from a brief introduction lunch – start giggling when they see her.

Being gawked at by some of the new staff isn’t new of course, she’s used to this by now, it’s practically the routine for the new hires, especially the younger ones: freak out when they spy The Celebrity. Though some of them are more subtle than these two.

The novelty of seeing a celebrity on the regular fades eventually, especially after they start work on said figure’s promotions. She’s heard Jeongyoung complain about having to whiten Seulgi’s face – all three hundred and eighty-four photos – because she got too tanned from a magazine shoot in Pa Tong a week prior.

She’s right. A few familiar faces await in her in the waiting room.

“Seulgi, you’re here! There are a few people whom I’d like you to meet, though I gather that you already know some of them, right?” 

“Sajangnim?”

Though, she knows exactly what they’re here for.

Honestly, she has almost forgotten all about it, filed it away as one of those insane, ludicrous suggestions that her boss hatches from time to time. His bouts of whimsy have lessened with time, what with age or with his staff having a better hand on tampering his ideas, but sometimes, he still manages to blindside her.

“Seulgi, well, all of you know Seulgi. And Seulgi, you know them, right? They were just telling me that you would have trained with Irene and Yeri here. Have you met Joy and Wendy before?”

“I, wait. Yes, and no. Can I… step out for a moment?”

Before he replies, she shuts the door in front of her, sinking to the floor.

Jeongyeong looks at her with some concern, making hand motions and mouthing, “coffee?” At this point, she’s not sure if caffeine will save her. It’ll probably wreck her insides and she’d die from the anxiety.

“Oh, Seulgi! Why aren’t you inside?” Manager Jung jogs up to her.

“Was it easy to find parking today, oppa?”

“Er, yeah, it was. Are you okay? Why are you on the floor?”

“A little warning would’ve been nice—” she hisses.

She doesn’t quite manage to appear menacing from her place on the floor. Her fans would be so devastated if they found out that their favourite bad guy kicking heroine can’t even manage to terrify her own manager to reveal anything about her gigs.

Or perhaps, it would just reaffirm that she’s 90 percent cuddly bear human, 10 percent “unnieohmygodyouaresoCOOL”.

“Wait, what, warning for what? Sajangnim meets us on Monday mornings all the time…”

“Did you not know?” She blinks up at him. He can be forgiven then, if that is the case.

He scratches his chin, then shakes his head.

She sighs.

Fine. This is fantastic.

Is this a surprise visit from the people at SM? Did Kim-sajangnim know about this? Actually, he probably did. She can imagine that checking for emails from SM might be the first thing he does every morning. After all, can anyone blame him? SM’s one of the biggest companies in the industry. He’d be a fool to let them wait.

And it was just as likely he forgot to tell her too. Probably assumed he told Assistant Lee to do it. God knows how she manages it, plying information out of him to do the work she’s paid by Kim-sajangnim to do. She doesn’t envy her job. Not at all.

She gets up from the floor to push open the door. No use wallowing about it, after all.

*

She needn’t have worried.

The meeting was over within a few minutes.

All the preliminary discussions have already concluded. Their management bodies were excited, to say the least, about the opportunity. She’s not sure if saying no to her boss would be wise, and Yerim – or Yeri – looked so hopeful the whole time she doesn’t think that she can quite say no to the kid’s face. Though, she wasn’t quite a kid anymore, right? 

Seulgi’s favourite film production company is thrilled to borrow Red Velvet’s voices to one of the promotional soundtracks. The vibes from the group’s latest release is perfectly tailored for the film’s promotional material. One of the film’s sound engineers is a huge Red Velvet fan – he brought it up, in passing, to his bosses. (He is to blame!)

The only bad part of the meeting was perhaps, the damage done to her knee: her nails kept digging into her skin, knuckles cracking audibly every few seconds or so that she is sure someone notices, but she couldn’t quite care when said someone was actually in the same room as she was for the first time in years.

No one’s counting, nope. Not her.

(It’s a bit pathetic that she has counted the years. And the months.)

(Once, she counted it by the weeks, but that phase of her life is fortunately behind her.)

She’s escaped to the rooftop. If she smoked, she would be drawing puffs of a cigarette right now. As it stands, she is wondering if not succumbing to nicotine was truly a wise choice. Most of her peers have, what makes her so special that she doesn’t light one up from time to time?

It’s a bright April morning. The warmth of the sun is slowly starting to seep back into the monochromatic glasshouses around her. She’s still getting used to the new landscape, where she’s fairly likely to be blinded by the glint of sunlight off an offensive amount of glass in the neighbourhood. It makes her miss the days she killed time by tracing the snaking ropes of power lines, pretending she was one of the birds hopping along the insulated casing.

Expectedly, someone follows her up; the rooftop door is creaky.

Before she hears the greeting, she already knows it’s not her manager. He’s long gotten used to sporadic fluctuations in her moods, and never chased her down from the few moments in reprieve she gets in her schedule ever since she snapped at him during a no-sleep filming week.

When Seulgi pulls herself back from the edge and turns around, she’s surprised that Joohyun’s the one who came up. There is a gulf of concrete between them.

One of her seniors has kindly coached it in her to not let silences lapse into awkwardness; it’s not good for connecting in the business. So, Seulgi tries, “Hey, hi.”

“Hey hi yourself.” Joohyun’s voice is soft. “How are you?”

“Me?” She chuckles. “We’ve just managed to get our outfit off the ground, Joohyun-ssi. It’s a recent development.”

“Yeah. I know. I read about it. You’ve done well for yourself. Naver goes wild for news about your releases. Your next movie’s going to be out for the summer?”

“Mmhmm. It’s not really quite a summer flick but the production was delayed… The Japanese partners had a few second thoughts about signing the deal over to us, something to do with their investors getting a little antsy? Which then got our investors antsy, or something, so the talks took a while longer – mid-production disruptions, I might add… And then to release another film in the franchise so soon after an American release? They probably spent hours and hours and hours arguing about it…”

She pauses, grimacing. “Wait, you didn’t come up to hear me ramble about the film, did you? Sorry.”

Joohyun’s still leaning against the door. “It’s fine. Nice hair, by the way.”

“It’s grown out a little bit. Think I might have to cut it again though.”

“Do you like it?”

Seulgi would prefer to assume that Joohyun’s asking about her hair. “It tickles. Think it also makes my face look puffier, especially in the mornings? Not a huge fan of it. Thank god for extensions.”

“It’s kind of cool, the hair. You cut it often?”

“If you mean that the stylist had to take up her shears to get my hair done every shoot? Definitely. Your hair is nice too.”

Joohyun’s brow quirks, in clear disbelief. “It’s still pretty damaged, despite the hairdresser’s best efforts at salvaging it post-bleach.”

“Well, yes, but I mean, it looks good on you. You look good.”

She watches as Joohyun rubs the ends of her hair absently, like she is a little self-conscious to be on the receiving end of compliment.

Doesn’t she always get comments on how pretty she is though? Surely, her fans would tell her about how pretty she is at every fansign. She probably gets tons of complimentary messages from anyone who manages to get her number.

“Anyway, I saw that you guys just got back from the North. That was pretty cool. A great opportunity.”  

Ah, yes. Kang Seulgi. Try harder. You’ve had years of interview experience – why are you giving such terrible, generically coded answers?

“Yeah, it was. A rare experience. Don’t think I’ll ever get to do something like that anytime soon, but I’ll never know. What did you think of it?”

“I thought you guys did very well, it was a great performance, you and the others in that get-up. Yerim-ie’s grown so much into her looks, hasn’t she?”

For a moment, Joohyun’s face stills and Seulgi’s insides grow cold. Ah, that’s the line she shouldn’t toe.

But the moment passes just as quickly as it descended upon them, and she shakes it off with a smile.

“She has, hasn’t she? Oh. I before I forget – I came up here because Yerim wanted you to come for her coming-of-age party. Would you? It’ll mean a lot to her if you do come… It’s going to be a pretty small affair, just the members and our manager, and maybe a friend or two of Yerim, though she’s probably doing a separate thing with her friends…”

Joohyun pulls up her phone, fiddles with it for a bit. “Oh. she is… you could go for that celebration instead, but we’ll not be there.”

“When is it? I mean, the one with your group.”

“The weekend before coming-of-age day. Pretty late at night. It’s after one of our schedules. Look, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I understand. But…”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll come. Yerim wants me there?”

She hopes that it’s a yes.

While she’s been in contact with Yerim even after she left, she has always wondered if Yerim held anything against her for her decision. As it stands, she’s surprised Joohyun’s not tried pushing her off the building.

“She does. And…” Joohyun looks like she wants to say something else, but instead settles for, “Look, I… I heard about this before we flew there. Sometime before March even, I think. Didn’t think it’ll go through though. My manager told us about it this morning. Via text. Said the management spent the time we were up North in negotiations. Yerim freaked out.”

“I can imagine.”

Seulgi opts to laugh, trying to lighten the mood. It’s something she has down to a T after having to play the role of a college student/diffident daughter in one of those endless hundred-episode-long 7.50pm KBS dramas.        

“Anyway. Will you be there?” Joohyun doesn’t let it get to her. “Yerim’s party.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll have to check with Jungppa. But I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“Jungppa?”

“Ah. Yeah.” She colours a little. “Oh. He’s my manager. Manager Jung. Jung-oppa. His name is Jihoon, really. But he thinks it’s embarrassing. His fiancée is a huge fan of Rain.”

“Ah, I see.” She wonders if that’s relief in Joohyun’s voice. “Well, I need to go. See you soon.”

“Yep. Goodbye, Joohyun-ssi.”

Joohyun's hand is on the door when a frown flashes across her face.

Just before she disappears behind the door, she murmurs, “If you don’t mind, just Joohyun will be okay. Take care.”

***

They say that she picked the right role. Shot to fame. And that the rest is history.

That’s correct, kind of. Her face is plastered across magazine covers. Her beaming face in subway stations, (or so she is told).

The red in the books of her small management company turns black the year after she clinches The Role. Kim-sajangnim was finally able to treat the company to soju and fried chicken without worrying that his card would be declined at the ATM. They receive calls. More. More. More. It’s always ringing, ringing, ringing; they have to hire more staff. Company dinners are no longer a single roomed affair.

They start signing on new faces. They attract a lot of attention from former trainees across the city. All of them need their next big break. Only one of them manages to sign on. The company’s conservative, they don’t want to expand too quickly, and besides, many of those kids who walk in through the door were only good for singing, or dancing. They could barely act to save their lives.

But let’s wind it back a little, to a time when she was younger. Lesser. stinging with regret and withheld goodbyes.

***

Her nineteenth birthday’s arriving soon.

The weather’s supposed to get warmer, but she constantly complains about being cold still. Joohyun-unnie points out that Seulgi isn’t wearing enough when she goes out. Nor is she eating enough. She’d brush Joohyun’s concerns aside time and again.

Yerim’s quips don’t help: Seulgi-unnie, you’ve lost weight. Have you forgotten to eat?

The kid’s such a brat! Every time Yerim butts in, Seulgi wants to fling the nearest cushion at her.

Privately, she admits that being tired and hungry all the time gets to her. Or tired and never hungry. Sometimes, she’s not even sure what she feels in a single day.

Joohyun would, quite unfailingly, make sure she wakes, and they’d head to the practice rooms. She sees Joohyun more nowadays. She suspects that Joohyun’s asked for more dance training slots.

When asked, Joohyun would point out that logically, they’d never push her as a main vocal, so she might as well polish her dancing more.

Joohyun was so good already though. She’s always so fluid, moving across the room with an effortless grace Seulgi envies.

She can dance to all of BoA-sunbaenim’s choreography so easily. She takes a glance at the videos from the latest releases, and within minutes, she’s executing their dances in a way never fails to take Seulgi’s breath away.

But then again, Joohyun always does.

If she ever decided to flop about the room like a dying fish, Seulgi might be fooled into thinking that was a deliberately crafted set of moves.

These days, her voice is working a little better. But Joohyun’s one of the strictest enforcers of her vocal rest mandates. She resorts to texting Joohyun about everything. Recounts her days in lengthy texts. Updates her about the opening of the newest pie shop down the corner through text. Complains about their instructors via text, lord forbid anyone else tries to read their messages.

“Oh? Your parents are inviting me over?”

Seulgi nods.

[[why are you so surprised?]]

“I’m just confirming it… Anyway, do you want anything for your birthday?”

[[Nope. It’s ok. Don’t.]]

She’s been so unremarkable this past year that a birthday shouldn’t be worth celebrating. A whole year with nothing to show: her birthday should simply be put behind her so she wouldn’t have to mark another year of her life with knowing that she’s still muted (quite literally, in her current case). 

Joohyun sighs. It’s almost like she can read Seulgi’s mind. “You think too much. I’ll be there.”

[[oppa thinks you’re really pretty, you know.]]

“Really? Thanks, I suppose.”

Privately, Seulgi delights at Joohyun’s complete nonchalance to that revelation, and looks away to conceal her smile.

She’s not sure what possess her to type, [[i think you’re very pretty too!!]]

But it makes Joohyun laugh and close her hands around Seulgi’s. Too quickly, her cheeks and heart warm.

*

A week later, she finds herself waiting for Red Velvet in a cyberpunk themed shoot location.

The room that she is in is pretty quiet, but she knows it’s a hellish thunderstorm outdoors. The plans have already kicked into motion and she lets be swept up in the schedules of it. She figures that her night-time outdoor photoshoot’s probably going to be cancelled, what with that apparently unceasing downpour, much to the dismay of everyone involved, including herself, because it’s been slotted into some ungodly hour two days later instead.

“They’ll be here in ten minutes,” Manager Jung supplies before she could ask. “Or at least, that’s what one of their managers last updated. In the meantime, chill, kid. Stop fidgeting.”

“Oh, was I?” She stills. “Thanks.”

“Yeah. Don’t mention it.” He casts a concerned gaze at her. “You know, we still have a bit of time. Do you wanna talk?”

“About?”

“Your legs are still twitching, Seulgi.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Again, you can talk to be about anything you want to. Or nothing at all, of course. If that’s what you want.”

“I’m… I’m good. Maybe put a rain check on that, yeah?”

“Sure kid, whatever makes you happy.” He leans heavily on the wall behind her, sighing deeply. “It... this is obviously bothering you, right?”

Seulgi shrugs. “It’s just another gig. We’ll get past this.”

Maybe she’ll talk to him sometime soon, but today’s not the day. She gets the feeling that he’s still staring at her, like he’s trying to pry her apart.

She’s not sure, exactly, why she’s so bothered by meeting Red Velvet. It’s not like they’ve not made their introductions. Shook hands and exchanged cards on a Monday morning and all.

The past week had sped by her.

In the leadup to the imminent movie premiere, she has either been stuck at the gym or out meeting an entire entourage of different people. People working in PR, journalists, fashion, you name it. In the past week, she attended a few photoshoots here and there, but it has mostly been random lunches, trips to cafes, dinners, or even parties. There was always something to do between another gym session.

All the socialising has kept her occupied. But it also left her exhausted – especially the parts where she was paraded around at a fancy dinner with fancier businesspeople. Sometimes, it leaves her feeling like she walked right into an acid-filled tank.

So she’s not really had time to really do the whole look back and reflect upon stuff thing.

Honestly, she thought it wouldn’t bother her once they got started on their project.

She’s always anxious about her work before the first schedules, anyway, especially so when it’s going to be with people she respects or looks up to in the industry. Red Velvet’s so good; the way Wendy Son sings makes Seulgi’s throat ache.

And back then? Before that project from two years back with Yoona-sunbaenim? She nearly puked from the nerves. They were in a room and she had fled. Her chest was heaving as she clung onto the handle of the toilet door. (Manager Jung on the other side of the door, his voice consolatory, steady, coaxing her to come out of the stall when she was ready.)

It is an improvement, really, that she’s not had to send her lunch down the nearest drain.

Thankfully, her phone presents an adequate distraction.

Her manager has been teasing her about her recent obsession, but she’s been going through the SM songs on the Superstar app. Why not? It’s fun.

It’s a tiny bit masochistic, playing the Red Velvet songs on the app. Especially when she plays their doubletrack debut songs, Happiness and Ice Cream Cake, for the nth time, even though she’s long attained three stars for both of the songs by now.

Which parts would’ve been hers, if she debuted with this group? Would she sing the intro verses, or would Wendy? Oddly enough, they’ve given the introduction to Joy, instead of Wendy.

They arrive mid-track while she’s on a bit of a break playing Automatic with a loud crash through the doors.

The girls are shaking and dripping so terribly that Seulgi tosses her phone aside and rushes into a storage room to grab some towels for them.

“Looks like someone pays attention when you tell them about the set,” their location manager remarks. “Go on girls, take your time. Don’t need you to be catching a cold. The weather’s awful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Awful,” Wendy agrees, being the first to fully dry her tiny frame.

“You guys okay?” Seulgi asks.

Mostly, her question is for Joohyun, who’s still shaking like a leaf. Probably that crash of thunder outside, which even the building’s thick walls couldn’t insulate against.

It’s not her place but, to be helpful, she grabs Joohyun’s frozen, wet hands and rubs against them, never letting her gaze leave Joohyun’s face.

“Joohyun-ssi, your hands are freezing.”

Joohyun flinches, just barely. If Seulgi hadn’t been configured to be hyperaware of everything Joohyun does, she wouldn’t have noticed it.

Still she doesn’t stop rubbing her hands until they’re fractionally warmer.

If she’s crossing a line, Joohyun doesn’t betray anything.

Joohyun only looks up, wide-eyed, and mumbles, “thank you” a quarter-minute later.

Yerim’s scrutiny over the exchange doesn’t escape her.

They jump apart when the set manager starts yelling instructions at them, satisfied that they’re dry and that none of them would faint from the cold mid-shoot, ushering them into motion.

Seulgi is amazed by how the members manage to soothe everyone on set despite the delay.

While the stylists leap to work to fix ruined hairdos, the girls are only light smiles and the subjects of gentle teasing. How unfortunate, that they’d be caught in the rain like that! Even Joohyun, who’s obviously tired, cracks a few jokes. Some of the jokes clearly fly over the recipients’ heads, but with Bae Joohyun grinning widely at you, you’d laugh anyway.

After things start rolling, work speeds by pretty quickly.

Admiration swells in her in the way the members swiftly position themselves, adjust their angles and expressions on command, for every rapid-fire shot.

She’s not the sole subject of every photo, so she spends the downtime chatting with the others and crewmen-watching. The people on set seem completely enamoured with Red Velvet’s skilled professionalism. They’re done with fixing Yerim’s outfit first, so she’s the first to get a go at twisting herself in front of the camera.

Wendy, she learns, is chirpy.

She speaks quickly and a lot.

Words flow out of her so easily that there’s never a moment’s silence between them. She’s never really interacted with her before today, but the girl’s chipper attitude makes her grin. And she’s funny.

Still, she half suspects that Wendy’s trying to fill the silence so it doesn’t get awkward between them.

Nevertheless, she’s happy to hear Wendy ramble about how exactly sourdough starter should be made, how it should be kept to prolong its shelf life, and that Wendy plucks recipes from websites but messes with them after her first try to get the ratio perfect for her members’ collective preferences. Joohyun and Joy preferred softer bread. Preferably shokupan, really. Technically, so did Yerim, but loath was she to admit that she didn't appreciate rye as much as the average European in her imagination.

Well, she’s paying attention. More or less.

But Joohyun’s right there, and it’s hard to not just stand and stare at her. They’ve dried her long, dark hair and blew it into little curls that framed her small face in a wavy cascade, making her large eyes seem even larger against her tiny face. The piercing gaze she directs at the camera earns a rapid series of furious clicking.

The blond cameraman’s obviously smitten for Irene. He even fumbles with the camera once, to the ribbing of his colleagues. He’ll probably copy some of the photos he took today onto some external drive so he’d be able to keep them for himself, unprofessional as that might be.

She can’t blame him. Who doesn’t fall in love with Joohyun?

“Hey, Seulgi-ssi?” Wendy waves both of her hands in front of her, trying to catch her attention.

“Wait. No, sorry, really sorry for missing it. What did you say?” She tears her gaze away from Joohyun and fixes a contrite expression on her face, hoping that Wendy lets it slide.

Wendy does. She even smiles, wide and easy like she didn’t just catch Seulgi spacing out.

“I was just wondering – what do you have on, after this?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Are there other Seulgis in the room?”

“Dunno. We can ask. Okay. That was lame.” She chuckles, self-conscious. “I’m free after this, actually. You guys?”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to be our rest day, or it is a rest day, relatively speaking,” Wendy adds at seeing Seulgi raise her brow. “Guess we aren’t going to get our evenings free after all.”

“Tough luck. weather.”

“Yeah.” Wendy bites her lip, like she’s considering something, then, she asks, “Hey, I was wondering, do you want to grab dinner with us?”

“Really?”

“What?”

Oh, that must have sounded terrible. So rude. “No, wait, I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to have dinner with you guys. It’s just. Do you guys really want to have dinner with me?”

Wendy her head to the side, then shrugs. “Why not?”

“Er…” She doesn’t actually have a good reason to offer.

Besides, she’s starving.

As if her stomach’s conscious of the thoughts in her brain, it growls. Loudly.

If Wendy notices, she doesn’t say anything. Wendy continues to smile, kind and genuine.

While she’d prefer ordering something delivered to the set, she’s not sure if she’d bear to see some poor deliveryman wander in, drenched to the bone. Fast food cardboard boxes and inclement weather do not make for an ideal combination.

Food.

God, she’s hungry.

So, even though her brain’s already screaming that she’s a fool, she acquiesces anyway.

*

Her manager doesn’t quite call her out for her shaking hands when they’re on the way in the car.

Instead, he turns the volume up, letting the evening radio host chatter in her ever calm, silk smooth voice. Seulgi allows the impromptu car karaoke session with him. She doesn’t sing that much, nowadays, but he doesn’t question her sudden enthusiasm for bopping as best as she can to Mamamoo’s Starry Night.

Dinner with her new colleagues for the current interim goes smoothly. With enough wine shared between five women (under the watchful eye of their managers from a separate table), conversation flows just as quickly as the Shiraz and Pinot Grigio are poured.

She gets to know them a little better.

There are things she knows already, obvious things like how the group debuted in 2015 but they had multiple SM Rookie releases in late 2014. It’s all over YouTube anyway.

(Seulgi’s listened to Joohyun’s SM Rookie project release tons of times. Bought the tracks and saved them to all her phones.)

They tell her how the company would’ve preferred to push them out earlier, but Yerim was still too young to legally take to the stage fully, which would’ve made it difficult to do anything outside of those legally stipulated work hours.

Besides, Joohyun pointed out, it wouldn’t have felt right, debuting without Yerim. While Joohyun waxes about Yerim’s then-burgeoning musical skills and her increasingly focused devotion to song-writing, Yerim grins under the dim lights, clearly pleased by the attention.

“You’ll be great, one day,” Seulgi offers, trying to find something to say in the conversation. “Yerim-ah, when will you get a release to call your own?”

Yerim’s eyes widen slightly before she disguises her shock with a peal of laughter. “I’ll be better one day, Seulgi-unnie.” Yerim mirrors Seulgi’s accidental drop of formalities easily. “Maybe soon? I hope the fans like what I’ve written.”

“Of course they will. They’re your fans, right?”

“Right, right… But you know, I want to win more fans.”

“Ambitious kid.”

Yerim shrugs. “How else would we be here?”

It’s true, Seulgi muses. Even though she left, it didn’t mean she abandoned any drive to chase a dream, or whatever elusive concept bundles her hopeful nerves into a continual push for more, more, more.

It’s that particular brand of insanity, that lets them shutters desires deemed lesser – privacy, balance, normalcy – and fuels them to say yes to the next role, keeps them smiling brightly as they walk through airports with a hundred lights flashing in their faces and the unceasing clamour for unnie, noona, unnie, look at me!

Of course, she doesn’t quite know what keeps this quartet of exhausted, overworked people on their feet, or how they continue to smile easily at her even though post-shoot, the layers of makeup Wendy and Yerim decided to do away with suggested how much they’d probably prefer to be in bed. But perhaps, they’re not all too different.

Even quitters like her burn with a continual discontent. Work hard, harder. Get what you want.

She does admit that in her case, loneliness is a powerful motivator.

Schedules mean that she’s too busy to think. It enforces a minimum amount of socialisation, even if sometimes it’s just with her company’s staff and her favourite wiry beanstalk of a manager.

(“Nothing like Rain, I’ve tried!)”

(“Yeah, okay, Jungppa. It’s okay. You’re great anyway.”)

(“Geez, kid. Getting sappy on me? Just keep at it. Have you memorised your lines today?”)

(“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Gotta keep paying your paycheque. Don’t need Seora-unnie to be mad at you.”)

She tries to disguise her distraction by swirling the last strands of her pasta with her fork.

Thankfully, the others pay Seulgi little mind as they continue to chatter about little everyday things, freely discussing their upcoming schedules in front of her. When asked, they simply point out that their upcoming activities are already public knowledge anyway. What could she tell their fans that they don’t already know? Would movie star Kang Seulgi want to risk being mobbed by a crowd of eager paparazzi-type people for information? Thought not, Joy helpfully quips.

As the wine bottles empty, she’s not sure if it’s the wine, or if it’s Yerim’s sudden easy familiarity around Seulgi – the younger girl clings onto Seulgi’s arm with abandon – but the way they’re gathered here, in this little corner of the world, fills her heart with an unfamiliar ease. Like she’s meant to be here. Has always been here. 

They’re talking about Seulgi’s upcoming film when she asks, “Listen. I know you guys are already going to be going for the premiere… but do you want to come with me? I think I can ask for that, so we can sit together and stuff and then you guys will get better seats at the front.”

When they don’t immediately say yes, she continues, “I’ve noticed that sometimes the idols don’t get great seat positions, though, I mean, yeah, you guys are Red Velvet, and maybe they’ll get you guys better seats this time since you’re doing something for the film, but…”

Joohyun responds by grabbing Seulgi’s hands. “Stop cracking your knuckles. We’ll be glad to.”

“Oh. Great. That’s great. Thanks for saying yes.”

“‘Thanks for saying yes’,” Joohyun mimics, dodging out of the way when Seulgi’s instinct at the affront is to reach out and smack her arm. “Don’t be so formal, Seulgi-ssi. It’s weird, okay? Do you not think of me as your unnie anymore?”

Seulgi only returns a watery smile. Joohyun smiles back at her, that tentative expression hurriedly hidden behind the glass she lifts to down her drink. A connoisseur would probably grouse about how wine shouldn’t be wasted on them like that.

Ah, the problem is that she’s wanted her to be more than that, no?

More than just her unnie that she trained with for years.

More than just the kid who first bumped into Bae Joohyun at the academy, surprised that such a pretty high school kid was auditioning for the company. It took so much in her to walk up to her, surrounded by her few friends, to ask for her name. (Think: an awkwardly gangly Seulgi ambling up to Joohyun, a broad smile and somewhat red cheeks).

Joohyun-unnie was all about disappointment and surprises. She knew that SM didn’t let every pretty girl into their halls, but she sulked about it for a week nonetheless afterwards.

Years later: seeing Bae Joohyun appear in the practice room one summer’s day all of Seulgi’s breath away, made her heart pound. She still remembers thinking: it can’t be her.

But it was.

There she was, the pretty unnie, to stay all summer practising how to sing and dance, with her. Then when the months got colder, she walked Joohyun to bus station so she could go back to school. She still needed to take her college entrance tests.

“Fighting, Joohyun-unnie!”

A self-deprecating smile, “You know I won’t do well in it.”

“You’ll come back to us, and you’ll debut properly – not getting into SNU won’t kill you.”

A flash of something crosses Joohyun’s face. Fear, perhaps. Worry.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. But if I don’t get to debut, and I don’t get into college…”

“Don't think too much, unnie. You will do fine.”

Joohyun stares at her for a moment. Then throws her head back, laughing.

“I wish I had your confidence, Kang Seulgi.”

Seulgi’s become more familiar with that expression in the few years after. That insecurity. It is something she wore often too. Even when they switched off the lights in the practice rooms, they could see it, their uncertainties reflected in the mirrors all around them.

It’s a long moment before Seulgi catches onto the fact that the others are watching her, waiting for her to say something.

She forces her facial muscles to pull the corners of up further, injecting ease into her too-loud proclamation, “Of course I do, Joohyun-unnie.”

***

In a certain novel published just a couple of years ago, the main character wakes up one day and stops eating meat. Flesh nauseates her. In time to come, she wastes away, consumed by herself. She’s lost in her whole head, and no one can slap her out of her preoccupations. Not her father. Not her husband.

Things were normal before. Okay. She’s a great wife. Lies in bed, lets her husband sleep with her. Keeps up appearances. Maintains her household. There’s nothing to complain about.

Or is there? Is what she’s doing normal? If it’s normal, does it make it right? Is it something desirable? Is the point of the book to speak of how desire has been suprpessed so greatly that it turns against people? Is the point of the book to muse about oppression and its consequent suffering? Can you truly escape from suffering? After all, the character did achieve some form of personal salvation… Right? She’s dead. Died thinking she was a plant. Dead, but free, right? Or…

Seulgi flings the abusively highlighted book down, groaning as she lowers her head down against the cafeteria’s table. It’s not actually her book, and she’s not even read the novel, even though it admittedly doesn’t have that many pages. But there’s a test at school the day after and she needed to at least distil some of the plot and its themes before said test.

It’s a late spring day and all she wants to do is to be outside. But no. She’s stuck in here for the foreseeable future, what with the monthly evaluations coming up soon and all. Last month, one of their trainers told her off for being too slow. The other dance instructor said she was too stiff. But what could she do about that? All the stretching exercises in the world, performed for years in front of her instructors whose frustrations were barely concealed… all for naught. Kang Seulgi’s still not able to perform a split.

Seulgi bites her pen, frowning as she stares at photocopies of the notes her friend gave her earlier this week. Why did the main character not leave her husband to begin with? People can be so frustrating sometimes…

She doesn’t notice Joohyun sneaking up on her, jumping on her shoulders as Seulgi yelps in shock.

“Oh my god, unnie! You scared me.”

Joohyun cackles. “Hmm. So I did. What are you doing? You look like an angry papa bear, Gomdori-ah.”

“You scared me,” Seulgi whines, “what if I, I don’t know, like, became a plant because you jumped me?”

“A… plant?” Joohyun her head to the side.

“Yeah. A plant. It’ll mean I died from the shock of being pounced upon by a rabbit.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, rabbits don’t kill people.” Joohyun leans forward to squish Seulgi’s cheeks. Seulgi would beg to differ. She’s sure that if she dies young, it’ll be because her poor heart overworked itself when Joohyun comes too close to her. “But, for the record, I’d be really, really sad. Who’s going to eat with me if you’re gone, Seulgi-ah? All the guys are too busy nowadays…”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t die on you like that, don’t worry, unnie.” She tries to wave her off so she can get back to studying, but Joohyun doesn’t quite budge. “What?” 

“Have you eaten?”

“Yeah. A little bit.”

“What did you eat?”

“Kimbap.”

“Kimbap.” Joohyun groans. “I wish I could eat like you.”

“Unnie, you don’t gain that much weight from one kimbap.”

Joohyun sighs, heavily and exaggeratedly, and sits on the bench opposite her with an equally theatrical air. “One is never enough…”

“Yeah, it isn’t.”

“I’ve not eaten yet.”

“Then… eat?”

“Will you eat with me?” Joohyun pouts. “I’ve not had lunch yet.”

“What? Unnie, it’s nearly four.” Seulgi starts shuffling her papers together, resigned to the fact she’s probably not going to get much of it into her head now that Joohyun’s here. “Do you want company? We can get something to eat here.”

Joohyun is quiet for a moment. Uh oh. Seulgi recognises that look in her eyes. “Unnie. Unnie. What are you planning?”

“Nothing!”

“Unnie, don’t lie! Lying is bad!”

“Of course it is,” Joohyun agrees, breezily. Then, a slow grin spreads on the older girl’s face. “Say, do you want to go out today?”

“Huh? Don’t we have practice later?”

“I really want something unhealthy today. Some ramyun. Ramyun… outside of these grey, grey walls…” Her voice trails off, dreamily.

“Are you suggesting we ditch practice? Again?”

Joohyun rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. That was ages ago. Come on, Seul. There must be something you want to do.”

She’s right, Seulgi concedes. Before the rational, logical, work-hard-and-do-well-and-one-day-it-will-be-yours-too side of her takes over, she blurts out, “I want to go to the River and eat on a mat.”

“A mat?” Seulgi laughs at Joohyun’s befuddled expression, amused that the girl latched on to that part of her proclamation. “Where will we get a mat? Are we going to drag one of the yoga mats along with us?”

“Maybe… okay that’s a bit hard.” Seulgi deflates, somewhat.

“Hey, we can go cycle at the River instead, that’ll be fun.”

“But… your ramyun?”

Joohyun shrugs. “Whatever. The weather’s too nice outside for us to be stuck in a basement today.” Her eyes flit down to Seulgi’s notes before her gaze refocuses on Seulgi. “Bring your homework. If they asked tomorrow, I’ll say that I was helping you out with schoolwork. It’s for literature class, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Seulgi. You’ve got the book right here.”

“Oh. Right. Yes.”

Joohyun jumps to her feet. “Now come on, we should get going. There’s no time to waste!”

*

Seulgi’s in the toilet stall when she hears Joohyun’s plaintive question.

It’s rude to pretend like she’s not there, even though she deeply wishes she was somewhere else. It’s not like she can hide behind a door forever.

When she steps out, Joohyun’s still staring at the mirror. 

The rush of water from the sink next to her jerks Joohyun out of whatever reverie she was caught in. Her eyes are wide as she watches Seulgi join her by the sink.

Then, Joohyun straightens. “I don’t take it back.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.”

They don’t say anything else, each avoiding looking at each other. Seulgi’s the first to leave. Almost runs out of a space too cramped for the two of them.

She wonders why Joohyun said it. Too much wine, perhaps?

(Why did you leave?)

Oh, she knows why.

All the same, it’s not like she’s not asked herself this for years and years and years now.  

**

W Today October 2017 Issue

Interviewer: Seulgi, you’ve been around for a few years now! We’re so happy you had time to meet us today.

Seulgi: That’s right. It’s what, my fifth year now as an actress?

Interviewer: Yes, my colleague over there? She’s a huge fan of you. Watched everything, from your first web dramas to your recent releases.

Seulgi: Ah, is that so? Did she even watch those I was an extra in?

Interviewer: She’s nodding. Anyway, we’re here to talk about your recent release. It’s the first romcom you’re starring in since you’ve started acting. Why did you pick the role?

Seulgi: I thought it was something that would be interesting. Like a challenge? I like challenging myself – action movies are very tough to film because I try not to use a stuntwoman. Playing the role of a love interest? That’s new to me.

Interviewer: More challenging than the stunt you did in your last film, really? Seulgi-ssi, what do you find challenging about doing romcoms?

Seulgi: Maybe because I don’t have much experience (regarding love)?

Interviewer: You, really? I’m shocked. You’re so pretty.

Seulgi: It’s kind of you to say so. But I really don’t.

Interviewer: That’s really shocking to hear. If movie star Kang Seulgi doesn’t have a boyfriend, do the rest of us have a chance? Ahh… I would love to ask you for your ideal type, but your manager is glaring at me.

Seulgi: Manager-oppa is quite protective of me, isn’t he? Maybe that’s why I’m still single. But, can I say this? I like people who work hard for what they want. It’s something I admired a lot in someone I liked.

Interviewer: All the students reading this are going to study very hard after this.

Seulgi: That’s good. [She laughs.] Good luck to all of you taking your college entrance exams next month. Remember to sleep and eat well if you can, okay?