And now I’m singing High School Musical in my head.

  Perfect.

  “Good.” He turns and keeps walking. “Six a.m. Make sure your vocals are warm.”

  “Am I singing a solo or—?”

  He looks over his shoulder and grins. “I’d like to think of it as a duet.”

  “I was afraid of that,” I mutter.

  “Get some rest.” He nods. “Oh, and when we pull this off, make sure to be nice to Jisoo. She sneezes when she’s nervous.”

  “Seriously?”

  He shrugs. “She’s nice.”

  “And I’m not?”

  He doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking, making me wonder until the early hours of the morning what Ryan thinks of me and why I actually care.

  Chapter Five

  Ryan

  Everything feels different as I wait for Ah-Ri in the studio. I find myself looking for her for no reason other than to make sure I can see the sour expression on her face every time I make her do something she doesn’t want to do.

  I know she works hard.

  I also know she hates me after what I said about her. She just doesn’t know why I felt compelled to say it. I was petrified that rumors would spread about me liking her, and I’d get into trouble or lose things I’d worked for. And worse? I did actually like her, and I didn’t want her getting into trouble either. Dating isn’t just frowned upon; you either sneak around and put everything on the line, hoping you don’t get caught…

  Or you get caught and get into trouble.

  I get why anything teamwork related makes her even angrier.

  But after yesterday, she has to know how important this is.

  I know she’s never been my fan.

  Hell, anyone who speaks to her knows that Haneul and I are basically her worst nightmares. We both insulted her and made her feel small. I did it because I was crushing on her and because of my own stupid fear, and he did it because he was jealous that she got higher marks on her dance routine one time, which just turned into this weird competitive thing when he went to an audition with her.

  After a shit ton of soju, he finally confessed that he was nervous about the kissing scene and was afraid he’d do it wrong for his first acting audition. So, he just reacted.

  That was a couple of years ago, and after she insulted him in front of everyone, well…it just made him even more resolute. I knew telling my best friend that I had a crush on his mortal enemy wouldn’t go over well, so I just went along with it, to protect her and, yes, myself.

  The fact is, no one else was as talented and willing to go against everything in the industry.

  No one.

  Believe me, I checked.

  I glance at my phone again.

  She’s not late.

  Yet.

  My dad still hasn’t texted me back since hearing about this challenge of forming a group. And if I see another breaking news story about my dad’s company and how well they’re doing, I might actually puke before I can record. The articles almost always show a picture of my perfectly happy-yet-tortured face as I stand next to my dad, knowing that I’m only there for a photo op—that being an idol is the exact opposite of what he wanted for my life.

  I drink more hot tea and lean back in my chair.

  If this day goes anything like yesterday, it will be long.

  Haneul was all smiles when he got back to the apartment. He said that Jisoo was a dream to work with and listened to everything he said.

  I almost laughed.

  If his day was perfect, my experience was painful.

  Why does Ah-Ri have to ask so many questions?

  Why does she need explanations for everything?

  Sure, if we fail, she’s screwed, but I’m still offering her something huge. And she hasn’t even said thank you.

  If her voice isn’t that good, I swear I’ll headbutt the sound room until nothing’s left but the echoes of my screams.

  It’s been a while, and back then, she was still taking voice lessons. All I remember is going, hmm that’s nice.

  She has a raspy voice.

  Different than others.

  Lower.

  Not as trendy.

  But I like it.

  Or I liked it back then.

  Who knows what she can do now?

  The door to the studio opens.

  She runs in wearing a pair of low-slung baggy jeans and a white cropped sweatshirt, showing off her toned body.

  I frown.

  Suddenly, I’m more concerned about breakfast than her singing.

  Did she eat?

  For being so tall, she’s thin. Too thin.

  I frown harder.

  She’s pale, too.

  “Did you eat?” I ask, my voice cracking.

  She stops in her tracks and chews her bottom lip as if she wants to eat but can’t. She touches her stomach as it growls. “I can eat later.”

  “No,” I snap. “You have to eat. You shouldn’t starve yourself. You’re tall, you should have curves with that body. Keep them, let everyone be jealous of them for all I care. But you need nutrition. Energy. You need food.” I shove the chair away from me. “Damn it, you need to eat!” I start pacing. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Why are you making this personal?” Tears well in her eyes. “I’m fine!”

  “You’re not fine, Sari!” I yell, then squeeze my eyes closed. “I mean, Ah-Ri.”

  “Sari?” She repeats and slumps to the chair across from me. “She died last—”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “You need to eat, Sari. You’re too thin; your body needs food,” I whisper, hugging her close, hoping to comfort her.

  She laughs. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying so much, it’s annoying.” She smiles at me again. “Everything’s fine!”

  I feel the lies in the air.

  And I let her keep giving them.

  Two weeks later, she was gone.

  Dead.

  After jumping from a bridge.

  She was twenty and had just gotten her first acting job.

  Her letter was made out to me.

  She died hungry. She died sad. She died alone.

  And it was all my fault.

  I saw the signs and stupidly believed the lies because I was choking down the same ones.

  Some labels care for their idols.

  And others, like hers, just want to make money.

  She died alone.

  Without me.

  “Here.” I thrust a protein bar into Ah-Ri’s face. “I’ll order us some food before we start. Keep warming up your voice.”

  An hour later, we’ve both eaten. Ah-Ri looked nervous to put the food past her lips, and I hate that it’s normal for trainees to diet so severely. Last year, two of the girls from a debut group were hospitalized for malnourishment.

  The worst part is, I know that our label is actually more lenient than others.

  It’s the fans—not that I would ever admit that out loud. We have some incredible ones, but there are always some who think they can dictate everything you do from what you wear to what you eat, even down to your ability to date.

  I shove the food away. “You ready?”

  Ah-Ri nods, putting her hands against her stomach. Was it the food? Or is she just nervous?

  I play the song for her only once, thinking we’ll be listening to it over and over again so she can learn her part.

  Most of it’s in Korean except for the chorus.

  I want you, need you, have you, had you but lost. Pick up the pieces of the broken glass you tossed. Make it better, heal me, find me, make us stronger. Maybe it was never me but you that was the problem.

  The chorus comes in.

  Ah-Ri listens intently.

  “The next verse is you,” I say as it starts.

  Her smile is small at first and then grows so wide I can’t look away. She nods her head to the music, then closes her eyes, allowing me to stare even more.

  She’s beautiful.

  No, that’s not right. The music and the way she responds to it is beautiful. That’s what my soul recognizes. And, deep down, despite all the fake confidence and money…

  I want her to like it.

  The music.

  The choreography.

  The rap lines.

  I find myself smiling.

  “Stop staring at me, Ryan,” she says without opening her eyes.

  I cough, clear my throat, and look away, drumming my fingertips on the table in a nervous fashion until the song ends.

  She spins toward me in the chair and announces, “I’m ready.”

  I jump to my feet. “You’ve only heard it once.”

  “Yup.” She goes to the booth.

  “Once,” I remind her.

  “Caught that.” She goes inside and shuts the door, then grabs her headphones.

  All right, then.

  I go to the soundboard and get ready to layer the tracks, then hit the comm. “You’ll just record your solo for now, then we’ll see how far we can get on the harmony on the chorus. The others have the booth later today.” I exhale. “I left the lyrics in there for you to look at just in case.”

  She gives me a thumbs-up.

  I just shake my head and intro her into the song.

  She isn’t late.

  She’s spot-on.

  Her eyes close again as she records her solo with professionalism and perfection. Beauty.

  “One more take,” I say once she’s finished.

  She rolls her eyes. “That was perfect!”

  “Yeah, I can’t hear you,” I joke.

  She raises a middle finger.

  “But I can see.” I chuckle and count her down again.

  I didn’t think it was possible, but she does it again—and even better than the first time.

  When I stop recording, I look at the clock. We have at least another hour left of studio time.

  She comes out of the booth with a knowing smile on her face.

  I spin toward her and hang my head, wincing. “You searching for compliments right now? A solid pat on the back?”

  She laughs. “Come on, I nailed it!”

  I hold out my hand for a high-five. “These are rare, just so you know.”

  “Your hands?”

  “My high-fives,” I grumble, trying like hell not to laugh.

  She sends her fist flying into my palm.

  It stings.

  I kind of like it. “Were you afraid our palms would kiss or what?”

  A pink blush stains her cheeks. “It’s cute, you calling it that. Still waiting for your first real kiss then?”

  “Please.” I snort.

  “You’re…what? Twenty-five?” She takes a seat next to me. I scoot farther away, not wanting to have this conversation—like no part of it. “But you’re also an idol who’s been on a tight leash. No dating scandals, no rumors.”

  I fumble with the soundboard.

  I know she’s going to ask it.

  Haneul’s been giving me shit for years about it.

  “No girlfriends…boyfriends… Do you even have a cat? A goldfish?”

  I let out an annoyed sigh. “I have a cat at the talent apartments.”

  She slow claps. “How very risky of you. What’s its name?”

  “Slytherin,” I answer quickly. “Now, let’s go back into the booth and lay out the chorus so we can beat the other two to it and kick their asses.”

  She jumps to her feet.

  “Oh, so that’s how to motivate you. Competition.” I laugh.

  “I’m doing it for House Slytherin,” Ah-Ri says. “Haven’t even met your cat, and I’m weirdly already more on his side than yours.”

  “Everyone always is.” My sister used to be obsessed with that cat. My dad’s allergic, so I keep it at the talent apartments. He likes to sleep with Haneul, though. Go figure. Even my cat sleeps with other people.

  I shudder.

  My brain really needs to get off the memory of sleeping with things like a cat so I don’t embarrass myself or remember things I swore I’d forget.

  I start the music and go into the booth with Ah-Ri. Both of us stand in front of the microphone, and I press the headphones to my ear so I can hear myself better and wait for the chorus to start.

  I’m already wondering how she’s going to harmonize with me. I haven’t given her any direction, wanting to see what she’ll do with it. Will she just sing in unison with me?

  I count us down with my hands and then point at the chorus part of the sheet I left in the booth.

  We both start to sing the chorus, and then she breaks apart from me and takes the higher harmony.

  It sounds how I imagined it would, and I want to keep going because it feels good being in here with her, so I motion for her to keep singing her part.

  She does it flawlessly.

  We hit the chorus again before it goes into my rap line. I get lost in the words. Music always has a way of distracting me. The chorus pops up again.

  Ah-Ri joins in and starts to dance a bit next to me.

  I smile and keep singing.

  We do four more takes, all of them perfect yet slightly different. By the time we finish the last one, I have so much adrenaline pumping through my system that I could record all day.

  She pulls off her headphones and holds up her hand.

  I make a fist and punch it lightly.

  Ah-Ri throws her head back and laughs. “I guess I deserved that.”

  “You really did.” I smirk, then hold up my other hand. “One last chance?”

  She sets her headphones on the stand, moves in front of me, and then slowly presses her palm against mine.

  Instinct takes over. My fingers slide into hers. Her smile falters as she stares at our joined hands. “Looks like our palms like a seriously long kiss.”

  “A lingering kiss,” I tease, licking my lips.

  “Lingering, huh?” Her eyes focus on my mouth.

  This is a bad idea, my brain screams. Do not fall for your bandmate, the very one you could hate later or have to see on tour every day. In the history of bad ideas, this would be the worst.

  Slowly, I pull my hand away from hers.

  It falls empty at my side.

  It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t feel good, either.

  It feels like she’s missing when she’s standing right in front of me.

  She stares down at her hand, then over at mine before slowly grabbing it again and pressing a kiss to my palm.

  Her lips burn a hole through my skin. They create a memory with zero effort, one I’ll never escape from unless someone chops off my hand.

  “You guys alive in there?” Haneul’s voice comes through the sound system. I jerk away from Ah-Ri, look through the glass, and leave the booth.

  It was a moment of temporary insanity, brought on by high emotions, close proximity, and touching.

  No more high-fives.

  No more palm kissing.

  Am I a toddler or something?

  I wipe my hands on my black sweats and casually run a hand through my hair as I walk toward Haneul. Jisoo is in the corner on her phone.

  Haneul smirks like he caught me making out.

  It was just our hands.

  Shit. I need to relax. It’s not like he’s my dad.

  “Problem recording?” Haneul smiles wider.

  “Um, no. We killed it.” I lean against the board and cross my arms.

  “Uh-huh.” Haneul reclines in his chair, legs spread like his dick is so big it needs space. “So, everything went great then in that small, tiny, little room? Did you brush up against her too much or what?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Haneul bursts out laughing. “I knew I got here early for a reason, and the universe provides!” He points at my cock. “Should probably take care of that before your anti-fan comes out here and finds out that while you may pretend to hate her, your body definitely isn’t on the same page.” He tilts his head to the right. “Grower not a shower, hmmm?”

  I look down.

  “Fuck!” I quickly shove my hand in front of my hardening dick. I mean, seriously. Over a high-five? Really? I can’t leave without running into Jisoo, and I can’t turn around because of Ah-Ri. “Help!”

  “I like women.” Haneul laughs harder.

  “Not like that, you bastard. And you know it!” I grit my teeth. “Distract Jisoo.”

  He slowly gets to his feet. “Fine, but you owe me. Oh, and we will be talking about this later.”

  “Not if I can help it,” I grumble.

  Footfalls sound behind me.

  Shit. Ah-Ri is coming out of the booth.

  She’s going to see my boner and think that what we did is all it takes to turn me on. Which I guess is maybe semi-true but not typical. And, hell, she’s probably going to faint.

  I’m going to make my bandmate faint in shock and horror on day two of rehearsal.

  I quickly look around for an escape when Haneul gets Jisoo’s attention and leads her to the corner.

  I bolt toward the door and hear Ah-Ri say my name.

  “Be right back.” I don’t look back.

  I kick open the door and run to the bathroom down the hall, thanking the universe that it’s close.

  I lock myself in one of the stalls and look down. “You’ve got to be shitting me!”

  Sure, it’s been a while.

  Like two years since I’ve even had a random one-night stand.

  I’ve been busy, though!

  Really, really, really busy.

  I can either stay in the stall until my body calms down or take care of the situation so it doesn’t happen again today.

  Especially during dance rehearsal.

  I never should have let my thoughts go there with Ah-Ri. From here on out, I need to be laser focused. No wondering about her skin or taste or anything even remotely romantic.

  I pull my sweatpants down and grip myself. Damn, it feels good—too good. I lean my other hand against the stall and pump up and down my length. My body trembles.

  And, of course, as I jack myself…

  I see her face.

  My teeth clench.

  Her hands.

  Her singing.

  Her mouth.

  Before I know it, I’m spilling into my hand, the toilet, and narrowly miss my legs.

  I’m panting, standing there feeling guilty as hell.