"It...looks perfect," Jae admitted, taking in how I looked beside Min-Soo, "but can you dance in it?"

"Of course!" I said, voice squeaking. Min-Soo gave me a doubtful look, shaking his head in silence.

"Okay, then let's go run through the routines for rehearsal. Min-Soo can show you what to do," Jae assured me once Sunni said something to him.

You know, this translation stuff is getting old fast. I'm starting to wish I had paid more attention as a child when my mother was speaking to my grandparents. Maybe if I had ever bothered to learn Korean like she wanted, I wouldn't be so out of the loop now. Then again, I didn't have much need for it until now. I rarely ever saw my grandparents in South Korea, and my father's side of the family was all of Irish and English descent.

"Okay?" Min-Soo asked suddenly, grabbing my arm and studying my features. Guess I zoned out...

"Yeah, sorry," I croaked—geez, why is this thing so tight?! I'm not that much bigger than him!

"Okay," he mumbled, releasing me.

We left a few minutes later and were ushered past dozens of paparazzi and flashing cameras upon arrival at the event center where I work. Bodyguards formed a tight barricade around us the moment we stepped foot out of the limo, and my face was quickly covered by one of their heavy black jackets.

Thank God for that—who wouldn't want a shot of the two Min-Soos?

Once inside, I was reminded of my first embarrassing encounter with Mr. Park...and Min-Soo's shocking seizure. I stole a glance in the latter's direction, seeing the grave expression plastered on his face and feeling sympathetic towards him.

But that sympathy faded real fast once my training started.

"Left foot, not right!" he shouted at me for the umpteenth time, stamping his left foot beside me to make a point. More furious words spilled from his mouth, and the music picked back up where it had left off. This choreography is a pain you-know-where.

"Faster!" Min-Soo shouted again, the little veins in his neck popping out. He was so much nicer when I first met him, I swear.

"You just told me to take it slow!" I snapped back defensively, my nerves wearing thin from the constant back and forth banter we had succumbed to.

"Now you too slow!" he insisted. "Do like this!" He showed me the same move we'd been going over again and again until I thought I was going to lose it.

"I did that!" I whined in frustration. This is going to take all week just for one song!

"You not leave until you get right!" he roared furiously. It was midnight when I realized he was actually serious.

The whole rest of the week progressed exactly like this—the whole week! No wonder why these guys don't have any real freaking friends... Every day, I worked tirelessly on each and every song to learn the words and every routine step for step, and every night, I crashed into bed and slept for a solid four hours before doing it all over again. And again. And again. If I botched the routine, I wasn't allowed to leave. No exceptions. Oh, and breaks? Nonexistent.

The only highlight for the week was when Mr. Park gave me half of my paycheck and I was able to buy some pajamas and spare clothes. And even then, I was forced to listen to the songs on repeat through my headphones as I dragged my ragged body through the stores.

By the final rehearsal, my entire body felt like someone had set it on fire and poured gasoline on it just for giggles. I guess it was worth it though for that small smile Min-Soo gave me at the end of my practice performance with the rest of IDOLZ7. The corset was the least of my concerns now—in fact, I'm actually starting to like having something holding me together. It's like the tightest hug you can ever imagine, and by God I need that hug.

Panting heavily from exertion, I felt my eyes welling with tears as I looked at Min-Soo from the stage. He hadn't said anything for once, and part of me feared that he would have me do the entire show routine all over again...or tell me I wasn't good enough. I'm not even sure which is worse.

He analyzed me for the longest time before that tiny, devilish smile flickered across his pink, glossy lips. "Good," Min-Soo said at last, his smile turning into a grin, "perfect."

Relief hit like a long-awaited tidal wave, crashing over me and shattering every wall I'd built up in the span of this week. My body sagged to the floor, and I buried my face in my hands, wailing loudly—happy that it was finally, finally, almost all over.

Just one show, I promised myself, and I will never ever do this again.