Time is an interesting concept, don't you think? When you're happy, it flies, but when you're standing on the verge of a mental breakdown, it couldn't possibly get any slower. The minutes drag on for days, and the hours hardly come to pass. It leaves you filled with an empty longing—dread and fear building entire civilizations in your mind as you wait in vain for the seconds to tick faster. But they never do, do they?

I chose to busy myself today by peering over the balcony of the penthouse suite, admiring the tiny toy taxis whirring back and forth across the streets below and the ant-like people bustling through the crosswalks. Panic swept through me in shallow waves, wrenching my attention toward the present again and again despite how steadfastly I sought to bury it in the corners of my mind. This show has to be flawless.

Min-Soo's reputation literally relied on my performance with songs in a language I still didn't understand. People—it's been a solid week. The only word I've actually learned during all of this is "oppa," and no one will freaking tell me what it means. My lips need to form every syllable in his vocals perfectly or we're both screwed.

A hand settled itself on my shoulder, drawing me back out of my stupor and sending another shockwave of fear through my veins. What fresh He—Jae matched my glazed-over eyes with a warm smile.

"You okay?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Yeah, just nervous," I admitted with a half-smile.

"You'll feel better onstage when the music hits, trust me. The first show is scary, but once you're actually doing something...the pressure fades," he reassured me gently. I nodded, glancing inside at the other boys conversing in the common area. Without Jae, I probably wouldn't have survived this whole idol transformation—and not just because he's the most fluent in English.

But because most of them were overrated cretins.

"Hey, Jae...what does oppa mean?" I asked suddenly, turning my attention back to him. He froze, his lips parting slightly as he pondered how to address my question.

"Where...where'd you learn that?" he responded after a moment, furrowing his brows and shooting a sideways glance at me. I shrugged.

"I've heard Myung say it to Min-Soo sometimes, so I thought it was just like a title or something..." I explained. "Oh, and Sang told me to call him that, too."

Jae slowly removed his hand from my shoulder, averting his dark eyes to examine a crack on a nearby wall, and mumbled uncertainly, "uh...I..." Sunni threw open the massive sliding glass doors behind us before he had a chance to answer, the blonde-haired man glancing quickly from me to Jae and announcing something to him.

"Hyung says it's time for you to get dressed and see the stylists. We're doing a mic check soon," Jae told me with an involuntary sigh of relief. I felt my heart somersault in my chest for the umpteenth time, pouring out copious amounts of fear-laced adrenaline. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I followed Sunni back inside the air-conditioned suite.