Girls scream his name when they see him. I wonder if it feels the same way for them when they say his name. If it rolls off their tongue just perfectly, sending an amazing sensation across their entire being. I wonder what they see when they look at him. Do they see the sweet Minki I grew up with, or do they see the cold, stone faced Ren?

As he gets off stage with the rest of the band members the girls around me scream for what seems like hours until we are all forced out of the performance venue and into the fan-signing area. A smirk finds its way on my face as I push passed the girls all the way to the dressing rooms. I flash my ID and the security lets me pass by.

Without knocking, I walk right into the dressing room that holds NU’EST. Ren was standing in front of the mirror with his shirt undone and his pants halfway off. With years of practice I am now able to hold down a blush for more than 30 minutes.

“That’s a nice look for ya,” I coo and he turns around with a flustered expression. He scrambles to pull up his pants, but falls to the floor in his failed attempt. Still on the floor, covered in sweat, he was prettier than me. I bite my lip and help him up. I start buttoning his shirt, much to his protest, just like I used to when we were young.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Ren pouts, avoiding my gaze. I laugh lightly, straightening his collar.

“When has that stopped me before?”

Ren smiled the first smile I have seen of his in what seemed like months. My heart swelled with happiness and I had to fight my body really hard to keep the blush down. To distract myself from my growing attraction I start fixing his hair, which was covered in sweat.

“You know I have people to do that, right?” He says quietly. In the midst of fixing his hair I flick his ear, making him pull away slightly. Ren looked like a sad puppy holding his ear in mock offense.

Even when making faces he is prettier than me.

I smile sadly and turn away from him to get ahold of myself before I spiral into depression. Ren comes up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” His apathetic voice wouldn’t affect many others, but I could dissect the sympathy out of it. I shake his hand off and smile at him from over my shoulder.

“It’s nothing; don’t you have fans to tend to, you silly boy.” I laugh, covering up my weak spot. He doesn’t smile at me, but nods and leaves the room anyway.

“Make sure you are here when I get back; I need to talk to you.” He pops his head back in one more time before leaving, not giving me a say in the matter.

I take a deep breath. I hate him.

I hate him so much.

He is such a life-ruiner. He prances around so perfectly and in sync with his band and the world around him, while I’m stuck in his shadows, still wobbling around like a newborn fledgling getting used to its environment. I’ve been on this Earth for 15 years; I think I know how to do things correctly, but Ren always makes what I do look like a toddler’s doing.

Some people are pretty, and it’s like they were destined for it. They were meant to be pretty, and as for the rest of us, well, we get to exist on the outer edges of life. It’s like moths. They’re the same as butterflies, aren’t they? They’re just gray. They can’t help being gray, they just are. But butterflies, they’re a million different colors, yellow and emerald, and cerulean blue. They’re pretty. Who’d dare kill a butterfly? I don’t know a single soul who’d lift a finger against a butterfly. But most anybody would swat at a moth like it was nothing at all, and all because it isn’t pretty. Doesn’t seem fair, not at all.

I watch Ren head for the fan-signing and feel a huge lump grew in my throat and I felt like crying. Who knew jealousy and love felt like throat cancer?  Sometimes I hate his perfection so much I can’t breathe, and other times I’m so infatuated that my heart bursts like a water balloon during summertime.

“I know he told me to stay but…” I look longingly at the door, and decide that it’s best if I just leave. I pick up my purse and walk out the door, and begin my journey back home.

I need to talk to someone, but I’m walking away from the only person I want to talk to. I heave a sigh and decide to call my sister, Munhee.

When she picks up I skip the greetings and ask her to meet me at our favorite café in Seoul. Once we have our drinks and pieces of cake we being our chat.

“So, why did you call me down here?” She smiles happily as she stirs her coffee.

That’s my older sister for ya. She is absolutely stunning in every lighting, direction, and angle. Her hair curls naturally and has light brown streaks in it from where she spends too much time outside in the sun. Her lips are full and pink, as if they are in a perpetual pout. She is petite and adorable; the type of girl that guys want to hold close and never let go. I’m so busy admiring her beauty that I almost forget to talk to her.

“I need guy advice.” I explain with a huge bite of chocolate cake in my mouth.

“Okay, and don’t talk with your mouthful; it’s gross.”

I open my mouth wider and stick my tongue out, chocolate cake and all. MunHee shakes her head in disgust.

“I like someone.” I say.

“Who?”

And in that moment I realize that I really shouldn’t talk to my sister about this. Not this time. Not until he’s mine. But, there really isn’t any going back now.

“Choi Minki.” I say quickly and hold my breath.

“Minki? Didn’t you have a crush on him in primary school? I thought you were over Minki.”

“Yeah, but that was kid stuff. I didn’t really know what love was back then. This is the real thing,” I say. It is the real thing too. It’s as real as anything I’ve ever felt and when I’m old, people my try and tell me different, and I might even tell myself different, but I know that at this moment I love Choi Minki.

MunHee laughs, “You’re still such a kid. What you’re feeling is just puppy love. But don’t worry: Minki’s sweet. He’ll make a good first boyfriend.

I roll my eyes. What does she know? MunHee, who’s had more boyfriends than I’ve had socks. She doesn’t know the first thing about true love or how bad it hurts. I knew I shouldn’t have come to her.

“First of all, I’m not a kid anymore,” I say coldly, ignoring her smirk. “And second of all, that’s the whole problem, Miss Expert On Love, always thinking you know everything! He doesn’t even like me.”

“Why not?”

“Well… I…-,”

“You don’t know if he likes you are not, do you?” MunHee’s smirk dies down and she softens. She scoots towards me in the booth we are in and puts her arm around me. “It’s okay, I’ve seen the way he looks at you-,”

“You mean like a porcelain doll?”

“No sweetheart, that’s just his face. But if you look in his eyes, he holds something deep for you. I can tell.”

I push her arm away from my shoulder and get up, “I need to go take a walk. I’ll be leaving first Unni,” I bow and take my leave.

If she's right, and she's rarely wrong, about when Ren looks at me, then I wonder what he sees. I look at my reflection in the store’s glass windows and I’m sorry to see it’s still just me there. Who am I trying to kid? I’m no femme fatale. I’m not the kind of girl boys like. I’m too short for my age, and I have no womanly curves to speak of, you couldn’t fill a pudding cup with what I’ve got. My eyes are brown; the kind of brown you get when you mix a bunch of watercolors together. My body is bony and stick straight, not soft and curvy like MunHee’s.  But, what’s worst of all is my freckles.

My mom is American and dad is Korean, and I ended up with most of the American genes. The freckles are scattered all over me, like sprinkles on a crummy cake that no one wants to eat. No one else in my family has freckles—I’m the black sheep.

I sigh, I wonder if I’ll ever be pretty. Probably not. Not Mama and MunHee’s kind of pretty, anyway. My dad says I’m like a baby colt, and that one day I’ll be a real knockout. Don’t fathers know that you’re not supposed to say, One day you will be a knockout? Don’t they know that you’re supposed to say, You are a knockout right this very minute, just the way you are? MunHee is just as bad as Dad; neither of them ever knows how to say the right thing.

I arrive home later than I thought and when I climb the stairs to my pink-colored room, I have an unexpected visitor. Ren was staring blankly out my window when I arrived, and he got startled when I opened the door.

Ren stood up and glared at me, “Why’d you leave.” My breath hitched in my throat as he stared at me intently.

“I…uh…” I couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse so I just stayed silent. He strode over to me and stood right in front of me, toe to toe.

I look up at him; when did he get so tall? I make a small noise that resembles a yelp as he got closer to me.

Without all the makeup he looks more like the boy I know. And yet he’s still prettier than me.

“Relax,” He chuckles without smiling, “I’m not going to hurt you.” Ren grabs my iHome remote and turns up an instrumental of a slow song. With the atmosphere of the song and my pink lamp turn on, the element of the room felt so nostalgic and magical it made me want to dance around on tiptoe.

“Dance with me?” He asks, offering his hand. I nod and accept his offer. Dancing with him sends tidal waves of memories crashing down. I was about 6, he was 7, when he started dancing with me. I would step on his toes and he would lead me throughout the song, ignoring the pain in his feet.

“I left because I was feeling self-conscious.” I whisper against his chest. Ren pets my pin-straight hair.

“I don’t understand why you do, though…” He whispers back. He always knows the right thing to say at times like this. I was always a shy child and Ren helped me through most of it. My heart pounded against my chest so hard I thought I was about to die if I didn’t just throw him down and make out with him fiercely, but it was him who saved me from doing so.

“I need to tell you something important.” He says into my hair as we sway from side to side.

“Okay, shoot.” I manage to squeak out.

“Don’t ever leave me; you’re the only thing that keeps me sane nowadays.”

I can’t believe my ears. What was I hearing? My heart beats faster and I start zoning out as he continues talking. I get lost in my fantasies; I see wedding bells, relationship rings, kids, a house! I can’t control my mind as my thoughts run unlimited.

“And I guess what I’m trying to say is that I sort of…” Ren pauses and looks down. I use my hand and tilt his chin so he’s looking directly at me. That’s it. I couldn’t control myself anymore. This was like the perfect movie moment for a kiss. I lean in and close my eyes. Ren shifts himself so that he can get closer and before we can think anything else our lips are locked in a loving embrace.

This is all I’ve ever wanted. It’s the most amazing feeling in the world, and if I was in a movie there would be fireworks and doves flying about in the background. It was the most perfect moment, and my mother had to go and ruin it by calling me from the stairs.

“Hey kids! Minki has to get back to his dorm soon.”

We pull away and stare at each other for the longest time.

“I love you.” Ren smiles shyly. My face flushes a bright pink as he leans down to kiss me again before he has to leave.

“But why?” I ask happily and our faces were resting so close to each other’s’ that I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks. “I’m not pretty, rich, or talented.”

“I can be all three of those for the both of us. You don’t need to be pretty, rich, or talented to impress me.”

 And for once in my life I really didn’t care if he was prettier than me.