The Hallyu show was scheduled a few days after Jieun texted him and it was the first time in months that Wooyoung got to see her up close. She seemed fine when she was on stage, which was why he was surprised to find her looking depressed in a corner at the after party.

She looked up when she saw him coming and even smiled a little. But it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Hi,” Wooyoung said, greeting her with a quick head bow.

She returned the bow, but not the verbal greeting, pressing back against the wall she was standing in front of instead.

Wooyoung frowned. “I don’t usually see you at these things,” he commented, raising his voice so she would be able to hear him over the thumping music.

Jieun gave him another off smile. “My company wanted me to come,” she explained. “Since I host Inkigayo and I’ve met more people, they want me to be more social.” She stared at Wooyoung for a moment, before letting out a short, bitter laugh. “Did you know they call me ‘Ice Princess’ around the industry?”

He did know. He’d even thought it when they first met, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Aren’t you friends with Jiyeon and Luna?” he asked instead. “Aren’t they here?”

“They are, but I told them to go have fun and catch up with me later. I’m not exactly used to this, so I’m not much fun.”

Wooyoung could tell she was hinting at him too, probably trying to get him to leave her alone to wallow in the corner. “There isn’t much to it,” he said, moving so that he was standing next to her against the wall. “It’s just drinking and talking and looking pretty.”

“None of which are in my expertise,” Jieun mumbled.

He frowned again. Jieun’s self confidence issues were hardly ever front and center, but Wooyoung was aware that they were there. And he didn’t understand them. As far as he was concerned, there weren’t any girls in the industry on Jieun’s level of talent or beauty. She had a long list of male idols after her, claiming that she was their ideal woman. Yet here she was, hiding in a corner in the middle of an after party.

Without thinking twice about it, Wooyoung reached for her hand, sliding his palm against hers and locking their fingers together. Jieun looked over at him, clearly startled, but Wooyoung just tugged on her hand, pulling her away from the wall.

She didn’t protest as he led her through the crowd of their peers, who were mostly too drunk to realize that one of 2PM’s so called ‘beastly’ idols was dragging Korea’s ‘little sister’ out the back door of the after party.

They wound up in an alley behind the club where the party was being held. It wasn’t an ideal place to have a conversation, but it was quiet and empty at least.

“Talk,” Wooyoung demanded once he finally let Jieun’s hand go.

She folded her arms and pressed her lips together, hesitating for a moment. “Talk about what?”

“You sent me a drunk text the other night. And just now, you were in there looking like a lost puppy or something. And I know it wasn’t just because you were uncomfortable about being at a party.”

Jieun scoffed and glared at Wooyoung, her defenses obviously flaring up. “How do you know that? You barely even know me.”

“I know you well enough to see that something is going on with you.” He leaned against the brick wall of the club and stared at her. “So talk.”

She looked away from him, her jaw clenching tightly and stubbornly. But Wooyoung had a new sense of patience to go along with the worry that had been piqued since she texted him. If he had to wait all night for her to say something, then he would. Because this wasn’t the same girl he’d been officially introduced to almost a year ago.

“It was only one glass of wine,” Jieun blurted suddenly, before bringing her eyes over to meet his slowly. “It was my first drink.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

“Isn’t that what’s selling these days? The pretty party girls, who can drink and dance and go a little too far with boys, but not all the way.” Her shoulders slumped and she let out a weary sigh, looking exhausted all of a sudden. “My label wants to change up my image. I was supposed to have a comeback this month, but they changed their minds. And they want me to go back in the studio and write more songs and scrape the ones I have. They want the skirts shorter and tighter and more make up on my face. And they want me at parties and they want rumors and for me to push it as far as it can go without there being an actual scandal.”

She shook her head. “I’m not an idol; it isn’t who I signed up to be. If I wanted that, then I would have auditioned for JYPE again after they rejected me the first time. I like my guitar. I like my subdued stages. I like being a musician. And it’s like they’re trying to take all of that away from me, because Loen isn’t YGE or SM or JYPE. And it’s funny, because I thought that that was what made them special.”

“Jieun-ah. Just because the label is pushing you in a different direction doesn’t mean that it’s the end of the world,” Wooyoung started.

Jieun shook her head again. “I feel like I’m losing my identity. Like Jieun isn’t good enough for them, so they have to reconstruct ‘IU’ until she’s up to par with the perfect girl groups. I already feel inferior and they aren’t helping things.”

“You aren’t inferior though,” Wooyoung argued. “Do you know how many girls in these groups would love to have a voice like yours? Do you know how many guys would kill to be your boyfriend?” Including me.

“Yet, I’m still not good enough.”

Wooyoung reached out, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. And suddenly he was reminded of a scene they shot for Dream High. Except this wasn’t their drama and he wasn’t Jason and she wasn’t Pilsuk. And it was more than nerves he was trying to soothe. “Jieun-ah,” he started, looking her in the eyes. “You’re perfect. Do you understand? More than good enough.”

She looked at him like she didn’t believe him and Wooyoung just wished she could understand, that she would just get how far above everyone else she flew. Wooyoung could see it clear as day and he wished she could too.

They stayed like that for a while, looking at each other in the dimly lit alley, his hands still weighing down on her small shoulders.