“Oh, come on,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. I give her a playful nudge on the shoulder. “You know Juhyun doesn’t like him like that.”

“But Daeho does like her like that, and with his charm, it’s only a matter of time before she falls for him too.” Hyeri slides down in her beach chair, covering her face with her wide-brimmed hat. “I’m just a ghost to him.”

“A ghost with top-notch computer programming skills!” I say, pinching her cheek for a smile. I think of Daeho’s floppy hair and creased slacks and the way he keeps a laser pointer in his pocket at all times—even using it to give us an impromptu flower lesson during breakfast. See that flower over there? he had said, brandishing the pointer like a light saber and directing it across the hotel garden. That’s a rhododendron, the official provincial flower of Jejudo. Neat, huh? Not exactly what I would call charming, as Juhyun had barely looked up from her phone, instead checking her YouTube stats for the island-themed makeup video she had posted the night before.

“To be honest,” I continue diplomatically, “I really don’t think he’s Juhyun’s type.”

“Who’s not my type?”

I glance up to see Juhyun walking toward us, looking stunning in a halter top and a pair of cargo capri pants, her long ponytail swishing behind her head. Only Juhyun could make capri pants look fashionable. I would just look like somebody’s mom.

“Um, Kim Chanwoo from Oh My Dreams,” I say quickly. “So not your type, right?”

“Yeah, he’s way too Prince Charming for me,” Juhyun says, wrinkling her nose. She peers down at Hyeri’s hat-covered face. “Hyeri? Is that you?”

“Yes,” Hyeri says, her voice muffled and miserable.

“Well, c’mon, I’ve been looking everywhere for you two.” Juhyun lifts the hat off Hyeri’s face and tugs her out of the beach chair. “I’m starving! Let’s hit the buffet!”

* * *

The hotel buffet stretches down the entire length of the main banquet room, and we devote ourselves to it, piling our plates high with freshly caught salmon, asparagus, sautéed bok choy, and steaming heaps of wild rice mixed with chestnuts. I spy a bibimbap bar in the corner and make a mental note to leave room for seconds. Juhyun, Hyeri, and I settle into a table next to a young couple sharing a bottle of wine with their salmon dinner. Juhyun glances at the wine and whistles softly.

“Romantic,” she says.

“Yeah,” Hyeri agrees, casting a longing look in the couple’s direction. “So romantic.”

I sneak a glance, and it looks like the perfect romantic scene. The couple is dressed casually, both in soft-looking sweats and T-shirts. I can tell the woman has no makeup on behind her huge Chanel sunglasses, but even with ssaengul, her skin looks absolutely flawless. I’m kind of in awe. She’s pulling off that effortless chic look that so many celebrities aspire to have.

I’m mortified when I realize that I’m staring openly at her face, and I look away quickly, but she hasn’t noticed—probably because she’s arguing with the man sitting across from her. Damn. Maybe it’s not a perfect romantic scene after all.

“Why can’t we just have a nice meal together without you bringing this up all the time?” she says, her voice full of rage despite the fact that she’s talking in a whisper.

“Because you never want to talk about it. When are we going to have a real conversation about our future?” the guy presses. He’s wearing a dark-gray T-shirt and has a buzz cut that would make most guys look intimidating, but somehow it makes him look softer. Or, at least, it makes the back of his head look softer because that’s all I can see right now.

Their voices rise, and Juhyun and Hyeri glance over with concerned eyebrows. Suddenly, Juhyun gasps, clapping a hand over her mouth. She turns her head to us, dropping her own voice to a hush.

“Don’t make it obvious, but look at that girl’s nails. See the seashell-swirl patterns with the French tips? That’s Samm’s design.”

Hyeri and I blink at her, and Juhyun sighs. “Seriously guys? Samm? The most popular nail designer in Seoul? She’s so exclusive only the biggest stars can get an appointment with her! I would recognize her style anywhere.”

Hyeri leans out of her seat to look at the nails, and Juhyun pokes her in the ribs. “I told you not to make it obvious!”

I turn my head more discreetly to sneak a look as the couple’s conversation escalates.

“Now is the best time to talk about this,” the guy insists. “It’s been seven years. Your contract is ending. Negotiations are coming up. You don’t have to keep living this way—the long hours, the labor, the constant stress. Now is the time to ask for what you want. What you deserve. Please! They treat you terribly. Why is this even a question for you?”

“You know our contracts don’t work like that. Besides, K-pop is all I know. I can’t risk what they might do if I make those kinds of requests. And I can’t just think about myself! What about the fans? I can’t let them down.”

My ears perk up. K-pop?

“You’d rather let yourself down than your fans?” the guy says, shaking his head.

“Don’t you dare make it sound so simple,” she responds fiercely. “I can’t just waltz out of Electric Flower like it’s nothing. How can you ask me to do that? I would expect you of all people to understand.”

Electric Flower? Suddenly a light bulb switches on over my head.

Holy shit. It’s Kang Jina, the lead singer from Electric Flower. No wonder she’s pulling off that effortless celebrity shabby chic look so well—she is a celebrity! I turn my attention swiftly to the guy. His voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. For a second I think he might be her manager, but I look at the way he reaches for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. Wait… is he her boyfriend? My brow furrows.

Kang Jina has a boyfriend?

I think back to the Electric Flower interview Leah and I watched together just a couple months ago. As part of the no-dating policy, DB drills us girls on the party line: we’re too busy to date; we’re not looking to get married until we can dedicate our lives to our husbands—and like all of us, stars and trainees alike, Jina went with the program. I close my eyes, trying to recall her exact response.

Do you feel like you’re missing out? the interviewer asked.

Not at all, I distinctly remember Jina saying. I love being single! All I really need are my Electric Flower sisters. How could I be lonely with them by my side?

Jina drops her napkin on her now-empty plate and pushes her chair back. “Come on, let’s go outside. I need some air.” I hear Buzz Cut say something about paying the bill as he moves away from the table and walks toward the front of the restaurant.

Jina sits for a moment, staring after him, and then pushes back from the table. As she walks past us, she glances down at our table and I see her eyes go wide. She stops, cocking her head at me.

“Hey. Rachel Kim, right?”

Hyeri stares at her with her mouth open. A piece of bok choy falls from Juhyun’s fork.

“Uh… that’s me. Hello.” I gulp and force a bright smile.