Raindrops gently pattered against the umbrella hovering over me, filling the heavy silence between us. Adrenaline buzzed through my veins in anticipation like a thousand tiny hornets. This whole day had been one heart-wrenching whirlwind of emotions after another, and a huge part of me really just wanted to climb into bed and sleep for the rest of the year.

Except apparently that's called being in a coma, which is a bad thing.

"Welcome to the IDOLZ7, Miss Sparnak," Mr. Park said at last, his dark eyes glinting from the light of a nearby street lamp. He stepped aside without another word and popped open the door of the blacked-out limo, holding it just for me. I got in without a moment's hesitation.

All of the idols from earlier were there, with the exception of Ji Min-Soo, sprawled around on the soft leather seats, either glued to their smartphones or just chatting amongst themselves quietly. They hardly acknowledged my presence when I sat down just inside the door. Not even a sideways glance.

Awkward...do they know I'm here? Should I say something? I should say something.

"Hi, I'm Tara! I'm filling in for..." I trailed off uncomfortably. The all-male K-pop group simultaneously paused whatever they were doing to gawk at me, their eyes boring holes in my soul. Even the four guys that had been talking to each other were now dead silent and gazing intently at me. Okay, I know I wanted their attention, but I didn't want this much attention.

"Sorry," I whispered, sinking back into my seat.

"Ya, neo hangukmal hal jul al-a?" one of the guys on his smartphone prompted, the screen casting a faint blue glow across his nearly porcelain skin. Oh my God, what do I do?

"C-Can you repeat that, please?" I stammered. Maybe I just heard him wrong?

"Neo hangukmal hal jul al-a?" he repeated slowly as if he was talking to a child that didn't understand. And I totally didn't.

Shaking my head, I looked to the others for help. A couple of the guys exchanged glances, and I could sense the disgust radiating off of them. One of them, a silver-haired boy with striking cobalt contacts in, snapped at their apparent leader, a little vein bulging out of his neck in rage.

"He asked if you speak Korean," another boy interrupted, ruffling his rosy hair and giving me a sympathetic smile from the back of the limo. "I'm guessing you don't, but that's okay. My full name is Jeong Jae-Sung, but my stage name is Blu-Jae, if you want to call me that instead. Or I also go by just Jae." Shooting a glance over at the guy arguing with their leader, he added, "that's Park Myung...he doesn't like new people." There's always one.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jae," I mumbled nervously, sitting up straighter. Flashing a cute grin, he turned towards the two boys adjacent to him and uttered something in Korean. The false smiles on their faces warped with obvious discomfort, yet they addressed me anyways.

"I am Jeong Eun-Sang, c-call me Sang. Jae is not my, um... S-Same last name, not, uh..." he trailed off, searching for the right word. He bit his bottom lip and looked at Jae with an air of desperation, murmuring something to him.

"Related," Jae finished for him. "That's Kim Chung-Ae," he added, nodding to the guy beside Sang with the spiky black hair, who seemed much more interested in the drink in his hand than talking to me. "And then there's Hwan Seo-Joon, also known as Joonie," Jae continued, indicating the first person who had spoken.

Hearing his name, Joonie looked up from his phone again with wide eyes, waving awkwardly when he realized what was going on. I didn't even have time to wave back before he was texting again. Must be important...

"And that's Wang Yong-Sun, but we call him Sunni. He's our leader," Jae finished, watching Myung continue to rant to the man at the far end of the limo. Sunni stared at Myung blankly with an I-didn't-sign-up-for-this-oh-my-God-please-send-help look on his face and raked his fingers through his messy blonde hair in frustration. I bet he regrets being leader now.

"Well, I—" I started.

"Go home!" Myung spat suddenly, whirling to face me. The rage burning in his eyes was more than enough to shut me up. He shouted something else at me, and I noticed Jae wince a little.

"He says, 'we don't need you, you should just go back to mopping floors like a...'" Jae bit his lip and shifted his gaze to the floor. "I'm not repeating the rest," he mumbled quietly.

"Stay away," Myung spat, the malice dripping from his words sending shivers down my spine. Without another glance, he returned to his seat, putting his back to me as best as he could. Him, Sang, and Chung-Ae talked to each other the rest of the ride only in Korean, occasionally shooting glances my way and laughing. Freaking mean girls.

With a heavy sigh, I gazed forlornly out of the tinted window, watching raindrops streamline across the tempered glass. They seemed to sparkle and dance from the refraction of light that shone in from the glittering city we had entered. To say it was beautiful would be a massive understatement.

"Hey, where's Mr. Park?" I asked suddenly, realizing he hadn't gotten in the car with me.

"He never rides with us," Jae explained, "he has his own driver. He just thought it would be a good idea for you to meet everyone." Well, isn't that convenient? He threw me to the wolves and bounced.

As if on cue, the limo came to a smooth halt in front of a towering building, and I felt my jaw drop in shock and recognition. We were at The Mark, one of the most luxurious hotels in the world and by far the most expensive in all of New York City.

This is almost too good to be true.