“I want you to really think, Fay. What is it that you think we do?” he probed, raising an eyebrow. This was the first time that she had seen him look so grave, so heartbroken, so melancholic, so everything she could have never imagined he could feel—all at once. This was no test, but rather a genuine testament to how prevalent—how permanent—their idol images were to them. As much as he adored Fay, he always thought about what would become of him because he did. He constantly fretted over how the media would claw him and the rest of the group apart if they knew, if word got out, if someone couldn’t be trusted anymore. He constantly fought with himself to smile because he had her, to ignore all the negative consequences that could have him if anyone slipped. Yet, his biggest fear in addition to her hating him, was her loving the image of him too much, an image he had worked hard with his brothers to cultivate and one she now had an uncomfortable amount of power over.

            Fay was silent, unable to conjure up the answer that she thought he wanted to hear, an answer that wouldn’t sound lame, pitiful, desperate to her own ears. She had long since accepted that this was no fairy tale, though she had her prince before her. Yet, even she found it difficult to determine what her prince truly did, the risks he was taking, and how nothing they had done was truly easy. She couldn’t merely say he sang and danced. He did so much more than that, yet, she couldn’t put it into words that wouldn’t sound like she was still his fan, instead of his closest friend, his everything. She broke eye contact and stared at the couch instead, ashamed that even though she adored him with all her heart, there was still so much she didn’t know, couldn’t say about him.

            “Exactly. I know it seems like some kind of fairy tale ending, but it took a lot to be where we are right now. It took everything I had, and it is taking everything that I could ever have before I know it, before I get to see it. I can’t say whether Seungmin is wrong or right in his approach to this entire situation, but I can say he is justified. This thing we have, this whole everything, is more difficult than you know. Some of us are just more willing to take chances than others. Some of us are more willing to accept the mistakes of others.”

            “Mistakes?” Fay asked, looking up, her eyes starting to water at the realization that she might be the mistake, that her dismissal of his very real affection had cost him more than she could ever know. She wanted that moment for him to correct himself, but it never came. He knew what he said, but he meant it.

            “Yes, the mistakes of other people. We work in a dangerous industry and there are things I can’t tell you, but no move we ever make is ever clean, ever free from blame. Everything we do is a mistake, whether you fans love us or not. It’s not always our mistake, but it is definitely always our cross to bear,” he elaborated though these were not the words she wanted to hear. She had grown up listening to K-pop and had garnered many friends through the years because of it, but she hardly ever stopped to think about the dark side that her favorites didn’t just work in, but lived in. Yes, she was well-versed in the comebacks and the lore of webtoons and comics. Yes, she held objective, serious conversations assessing the talents of some idols over others. Yes, she knew these idols were only human, but she only knew so much. Hearing it was not something she wanted. Hearing it from him made it real.

            “For example, take the simplest obstacle we have to this relationship, the long distance. Most people would get up and leave if they had to be in a relationship with a 17-hour time difference, would they not? When you visit your family in Peru, it makes it more difficult to talk with your friends on time, right?” Fay nodded, though she was glad for most of her friends’ insomnia and otherwise faulty sleep schedules. She always had someone to turn to and often, she would be the one off the map living her best life on her brief trips. She had to admit, the few times they could talk to each other always felt so rushed as Joochan buzzed between schedules and posts and meetings and recordings. Even now, his day was likely just getting started or he was right in the middle of it, taking a very long “bathroom break” just to call her. She understood that he was busy making himself, his brothers, and other Goldenness happy, but love felt like another job for him and she was the one waiting at home for his return.

            “Even that is a mistake. Love shouldn’t have to feel like something I have to squeeze in. I wish I were there to go on more coffee dates, learn more English so I could read with you, just listen to you talk about your day in real time, but you know I can’t do that. I have to pencil in the person I care about the most in this world while showing my face to the rest of it. That, however is a mistake that I am willing to bear because I am willing to make it work by whatever means necessary. You know that one day, I’ll be able to see you again and hold you the way I should be able to right now. Until then, we wait that mistake out because the good is far worse than the bad.”

            “So, what’s another mistake?” she uttered, her masochism getting the best of her.  At this point, though she could predict what he would say, she needed to hear it. She needed to know it was real so that she could convince herself that everything they were doing was okay because it was a choice, not rushed, not written out for them by anyone other than Fate. She, like Talia, wanted excuses to make herself feel more secure in what she had chosen. She wanted the struggle so she could feel productive, feel like she deserved it, deserved him. It would only have to hurt her first.

            “Well, remember that ‘friend’ that you were talking about, the one before the pandemic and thank goodness you all went your separate ways, but only after a hell of an emotional ride? I really hate to bring that up again, but I think we can both agree that was a mistake, even if it didn’t feel like one at the time.” Fay bit her lip before huffing, seemingly releasing all the pent up emotions about the situation. That person, while not having done any physical damage, had done immeasurable damage to her psyche, her love of K-pop, and her mental wellbeing. Being dragged around like an emotional support rag doll only to hear incessant ranting and gushing over any and every group she could think of drained her in ways that she could hardly speak of anymore. At the time, Sam seemed like a passionate, goofy friend, but with time, she was anything and everything besides pleasant. She didn’t like to think about that part of her life, the part where she had been too gullible, too friendly, too soft to correct and prevent such a toxic and draining sinkhole on her soul. “I’m sorry for bringing her up again. I know you don’t like to think about it, but I want you to, for only a second. That’s another mistake I’m making. Not every fan—person—can be trusted. From what you’ve told me about her obsession with NCT, she’s every idol’s worst nightmare.”

            “Yeah! At one point, she forced me to rank all 23 members, even if I didn’t even know them. I still can’t listen to them the way I did and I feel really bad because Alex is a big NCT fan. They get so excited when they learn a new NCT dance cause that’s just her style and I don’t have the heart to watch them dance it because I just can’t look at NCT the same way. I can’t stand them much, really.”

            “And that’s the thing. You’ve been hurt and are hurting someone else—not really. As we both know, Alex will vibe to just about anything. Yet, the point is, you’re acting this way because you made a mistake even if it seemed like a good one. She was someone you could enjoy K-pop with, someone you could enjoy us with, but then you got blindsided by that and every other toxic thing she did. And you didn’t have the heart to stop her until it was too much. You and I are like that—at least to the rest of this group.”

            “Am I that much of a risk to the group, because if I am, I don’t think I want to be with you anymore as much as it pains me. I would much rather see you all happy and smiling together than for me to get in the way, for me to be a problem.”

            “You’re not a problem, just a mistake that could never happen,” he countered vaguely, knowing he could choose his words only so well in a way that still relayed how much he cared and how much he worried.

            “You, I can trust. Alex, Talia, I can trust, but you know more than anyone that not everyone could be trusted. It’s a tricky situation we have here. Seungmin, for his part, doesn’t have the same courage as I do, doesn’t have the same risk-taking personality that I do.”

            “Are you saying that he can’t trust the others?” Fay asked, genuinely confused. Of all the people she knew, Talia and Alex were amongst the most trustworthy, one on account of their bold extraversion and two on account of their bold, single brain-celled responses. They didn’t have the time to sugarcoat or lie since they spoke exactly what they meant often.

            “He can’t trust himself. He doesn’t want to make a mistake and end up hurting everyone else in the process. Y already trusts them wholeheartedly, but Seungmin doesn’t want to do anything that will turn one of them into an enemy.”

            “Alex and Talia would never do anything to put Golcha at risk, no matter what he does! They’re not those kinds of people! They wouldn’t be hurt over something so small and then make such a big deal out of it,” Fay started to ramble, ready to defend her friends to the death instinctively.

            “I know that. Y knows that. They know that, but Seungmin is just so scared to do anything about it. He never wants to hurt anyone. He always wants to make the right move more than any of us. He also wants to make it right with himself. He doesn’t want to make the wrong move and choose the wrong one and it backfires so much that it hurts the group. He’s being too cautious with himself.”

            “Either one of them is just fine for him. You already know how I feel, but I just want him to be happy,” she shrugged.

            “And I do, too. We all do, but that is easier said than done when you’re just watching.”

            “I’ll give him that much, I’ll be honest. Everything is easier to watch than to do. I always thought romance would be something easy, something to do step by step in any way I wanted as long as I followed the rules. If I did the Disney thing, did the hundreds of tropes, then I would feel that spark and love would just fall out of the sky. Or rather, that’s what I wanted. I had read and seen enough to know everything about it and still, I couldn’t do it,” Fay admitted, halfway defeated as she looked at the stack of books on her desk and recounted every cliché, every trope, every personification, every quote that made it seem like romance could be lived as it was written. She knew she was a er for fantasy romances, for a hint of spice—or a lot-- in every love story, but there was no rule book, no guide that made this any easier to experience. She had even tried going on a date before being with Joochan and, unlike just about everything she had ever read, it was not the spark, not the feeling that she wanted. The man was average, not spectacular, but kind and generous. Yet, it wasn’t what she wanted, what she had dreamt of. Here, an author could have easily made her fall in love with another, but instead, she contemplated love for a moment or two, realizing there would not be another male love interest immediately for her to pine over nor did she want one. When Joochan snuck into the picture, she was skeptical—and still was as she learned how to live—and accept—love as the authors called it so whimsically.

            “And I didn’t mind making the first move. Of course, I had help and Alex is most definitely allowed to speak at the wedding—” he started.

            “Wedding?!” Fay blurted, flinging herself against the back of the couch, nearly tossing her phone across the room in the shock. Instead, she slammed it down on the soft arm of the couch and Joochan was merely talking to the darkness as she tried to steady her heartrate and racing mind. While she had long since made it clear that Joochan was the love of her life, marriage seemed so far off the table that it only belonged in fanfics. Even then, at the mere mention of marrying Joochan from Talia and Alex, she would be sent into an uncontrollable tizzy, trying to laugh it off and redirect them away from the absurd. Yet, hearing it from him made it real. She finally composed herself--- if her burning cheeks, lack of eye contact, and constant fanning of herself was any indication of improvement—to face him again.

            “Okay, maybe that was a bit strong and I’ll be honest, a far way off given the circumstances,” he admitted, “but you know what I mean. It’s not off the table. I’ll have you if you have me, but we have plenty of time to talk about that one,” he chuckled before a wave of sadness crashed and contorted his features. Now, he was looking down and away.

            “What is it?” she asked, no choice but to match the now overwhelmingly somber mood that had enveloped them.

            “I don’t want a wedding off the table, but you know who would. That’s another mistake,” he confessed wit