Iris

     Love is waking up at five-thirty on a Saturday morning to go running with your roommate. She had tip-toed into my room early this morning to shake me awake with her absurd question.

    “Wanna go for a run?”

    I had cursed at her, ducking my head back under the covers, but she was not having any of that. Which is why I am jogging -- slowly -- behind her in the park beside the Han River.

   Granted, the bus ride into the city offered me a little bit of rest before our jog, but my roommate has me making up for it now.

   What I wouldn’t do for a croissant right now. Was the only thought in my mind. My roommate slowed her jog and happily chirped about her new job. Her voice was so sing-songy that it put the birds to shame. Either that, or they were still sleeping as I wish I was.

“I get to meet so many famous people. It’s weird, but cool at the same time. It’s like you see them on TV, then you see them in real life, and you’re just like, woah!” She exclaims.

How can she talk and breathe properly at the same time? While I panted like a robber running from the cops, she floated across the sidewalk. I want to punch her.

“Kimberly,” I say, interrupting her story about some man she met at her workplace.

“Huh?”

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t let me go home.” I glare at her.

Kimberly rolls her eyes. “We are almost at the end. Stop whining.”

We finally finished as the sun rose in the sky--its light bouncing off the buildings made entirely of glass, and blinding me. Kimberly suggested we walk to the McDonalds and get a coffee.

“And a hamburger.” I add.

“It’s six in the morning.” She looks at me incredulously.

“I don’t care.” 

Kimberly and I find a table under the television and finally take a rest. I rest my cheek on the table. It feels cool compared to the rest of my skin that feels like it is on fire.

The EXO boys arrived back from Japan this morning around three. They will resume their comeback next week in Beijing.

Says the television. 

“They are all so handsome. Why can’t I work in their department?” Kimberly sighs. I raise my head and look at the television. Twelve boys are roamed the screen--all had masks over their faces.

Clips played of their performances in Tokyo. I turned back to Kimberly.

“Do you think you would ever be able to choreograph a male group’s dance?” I ask.

She shrugs, and tells me that the way the company is set up is like a tier. She starts at the bottom which consists of training the young and hopeful. If she is able to pass at least five of the trainees on to the next step to debut, she moves up to choreographing female groups. The top and very last tier are the boys.

“It’s completely ist, but what can you do?”

“Gotta love the entertainment industry.” I retort. I would never make it in the entertainment industry-- at least not as a singer. One, I would have zero privacy. Cameras constantly following me around, people ogling me like I am an animal at an exhibit at the zoo. Two, I can’t dance or sing to save my life. Preschool and elementary school programs are as far as my singing career went. Three, there is the pressure to be something I am not. Always in shape, always clear-faced, and happy. Acting like the perfect human being so that people will buy your merchandise--I can not do that.

EXO’s D.O. was spotted leaving a small coffee shop in Jongno just last week.

I whip around so fast that I my eyes rattle. 

It’s the coffee shop. My coffee shop.

And it’s the man. Kyungsoo. Stoic expression, youthful, yet somber eyes, dark hair swept in front of his face.

“I knew it.” I murmur. I knew he was a Kpop star. With a face like that how could he not be?

“Knew what?” Kimberly asks.

“I have seen that guy before.”

Kimberly laughs, “I imagine you would. He’s only apart of one of the biggest boy groups in Asia.”

No. I think to myself. He’s the dry-humored guy in the coffee shop who is hypersensitive when someone sits at his table.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” I agree. “Silly me.”