She was nervous.

It was her first time being in a new country, and without her family. She also knew Koreans weren't too kind to people who looked different from society's expectation, namely her bleach blonde hair. Otherwise, she was pretty typical: petite in frame and stature; big, beautiful brown eyes; pink lips; pinchable cheeks; just the right amount of freckles; high tops; jeans; a graphic tee under a black jacket; and a pair of bright coloured headphones around her neck. Oh, and she was Korean.

Right after going through security, she put on her cheap, from-a-company’s-giveaway Ray-Bans and in an outward-appearance relaxed manner, made her way to the arrival gate. She wasn’t expecting anyone to come for her (such was the life of a newly hired English teacher), but she had a tinge of hope in her heart.

“Well,” she thought, “Here goes nothing.”

She walked through the automatic doors into the arrivals area of the airport. Surprisingly, she saw a lot of people, mainly teenage and young adult girls, lined up against the railings of the walkway. And as soon as she walked through the doors, she could see and feel the glances as well as hear the whispers from the fans, wondering if she herself was a K-Pop star. How that was even possible, she had no idea: no agency would hire her as an artist, she thought. She even heard some camera shutters and flashes go off while she continued to walk down towards the exit of the “runway,” mistaking her for someone they knew. Or making sur