Min-Joon Park

Seven years later

“Yes. Good. Give me those eyes some more. Yes. Yes, just like that!”

Nathalia’s camera shutter clicked, clicked, clicked what seemed like a thousand times, taking damn near the same shot every time. But she swore each one was subtly different and unique, and I was just not creative enough to comprehend her artistic genius.

I popped my collar, trying to make love to that camera. But I found myself growing restless. We’d been at this shoot for over two hours,and I still had to get to the dance studio and run over my routine one last time.

I was about to debut as an idol in Korea with a manufactured boy band called Animus. I’d long since left my friends and normal school life behind. In fact, I’d pushed hard against my parents so I could complete my high school courses before my debut. They weren’t happy about it, but I was the face that fueled their ambitions. In the end, they’d been forced to give in to me.

So now they got to brag about a son who not only finished his schooling but was going to become a big name in the world of entertainment. My mother’s ambitions for me would eventually get us into the overseas market.

How did I know this?

Because she’d been grooming me for this moment since I’d first learned to walk.

This was my life.

Whether I wanted it or not.

“Why are you frowning suddenly? You ruined my perfect shot. And you with your gorgeous silver hair now. C’mon, Joon, the world is your oyster. Smile for the camera!” Nathalia sing-songed.

Nathalia was a world-renowned fashion photographer with deep connections in the entertainment industry, both domestically and abroad. It had been a major coup for my band that we’d snagged her for our promo shots. The rest of the guys were just happy to go along for the ride.

They were grouped together, laughing and posing like they were already best friends, though we’d only really begun to live together since last year. We were green, but already there was electricity in the industry when we were mentioned.

Mom’s connections and money meant we were going places. They knew it. I knew it.

A black cloud hovered around Nathalia, with veins of Payne’s gray at the edges. She wasn’t full-on mad, but she was growing increasingly annoyed with me.

“I said smile,” she grumped, pausing in her manic shooting.

I looked at her. “Can we take five, Nattie?”

Not only was Nathalia a fashion photographer, she was also my godmother.

Her shoulders slumped. “Joon, your mom will literally kill me if I don’t give her the perfect shot.”

“Why can’t I be with them at least?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder toward the other members, who were still laughing and playing together. Nattie’s assistant, Micah, was taking one shot after another, oohing and ahhing at their perfection.

“You’re the leader,” she said simply. “You know it’s your face that’s going to make the rest of this possible. Who do you think the fans will stan most?”

I frowned.

“Look, kiddo, take five. But then hurry back. This emo thing doesn’t work for you. You’re the star.” She tapped her cheek, mimicking the spot where I’d painted a small black star that looked almost like a mole beneath my eye. It was the only thing on me that was my idea. Everything else was someone else’s doing.

I shook my head. “I’m going to take a smoke out back.”

She gasped, marching forward and getting within inches of my face. “Mind your reputation, Joon. Good boys don’t smoke.” She looked around, scanning the faces milling around us, adding, “this world you’re entering might be shiny. But remember, all that glitters ain’t gold. It’s a trap that lures you in. Beneath the shimmer, it’s ugly and dirty. You’re one camera click away from a scandal that could ruin you and this band forever. Just make sure you keep that in mind.”

Her voice was low, and I knew she was alluding to the scandal of another idol member from a rival band who’d been outed as a junkie just last month. I clenched my jaw.

“I won’t get caught.”

She thinned her lips. I knew she hated it when I smoked. I hated it when I smoked. I was only sixteen. I shouldn’t be doing it, but I was so stressed, and it was really the only thing that helped me to relax. Not like I could drink. Or go out with friends.

I had nothing but those damn cancer sticks.

With a shake of my head, I brushed off the hand of the makeup artist trying to do touch-ups and walked out back.

As I walked away, I listened to them muttering under their breath about me.

“Such a pretty face, but what a bad attitude, that one. Such a shame.”

“The prettiest are always the most difficult,” the other said before they both devolved into high-pitched giggles.

I walked through a cloud of greens and reds, irritation, aggravation, and annoyance.

Only once I’d walked onto the balcony did the colors stop. I was high above the noise here. Far below me, New York City blazed with life and verve. I leaned over the railing, reaching into my pocket to pull out my pack.

I wasn’t even legal age here.

I could get in trouble. If I was anyone else. But I was Park Min-Joon, son of Park Mi-Young and Park Dong-Hyung. She was a diplomat, and he was a financial tycoon. They had wealth, fame, glamor, and beauty. Everything anyone wanted.

I hadn’t seen my dad’s face in over a year. I did see my mother only last week, but before that, it was about six months. I was a footnote in their lives. I mattered only so far as they could boast of my success, but any real relationship was beyond what they could bear. No wonder they had such a cold and lifeless marriage. It was a miracle they’d ever even had me. Or maybe not. They’d done their duty.

Sighing, I tapped my cigarette on the railing. I really should quit. These damn things would kill me eventually if I didn’t.

I lit it and took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs. The night was just this side of cool. The wind ruffled through the tips of my now silver hair. Looking up into the sky, I stared at the stars, so peaceful up there.

Touching the star on my cheek, I thought about that boy I’d not seen in forever. I thought of him every so often. It was weird. I’d only seen him for thirty minutes in my entire life, and yet the stars in his eyes were something I’d never forgotten. No matter the time and distance between us.

On lonely nights like this, I couldn’t help but wonder if his life was any better than mine.

“Joon, Holly’s waiting for touch-ups,” a random voice called to me over my shoulder. I flicked the ash off the tip of my cigarette.

“Coming,” I said, listening as the balcony door closed.

I hoped he was smiling, wherever he was.

~*~

Jerrick

“Freak! You tried to kiss her, you freak!”

“Freak!”

“Sicko!”

“Psycho!”

“You’re so ugly, oh my gods, ew, as if!”

I sniffed, rubbing the snot running down my nose with my wrist, barely holding back a sob. “I wasn’t trying to kiss her! I fell!”

The girl, Thalandria, laughed and snorted. “Yeah, right, you were coming right in. I see you looking at me all the time. Just cause I said hi to you once. Jerrick, you’re so gross. Your skin is revolting. And your teeth—”

“That’s enough, children!” Mr. Cenal clapped his hands, galloping over toward us at a furious pace from halfway across the field where we had been playing baseball earlier. He glared at the kids surrounding me. “How dare you children gang up on poor Jerrick. I will be calling your parents! Now get back to class.”

“Yes, Mr. Cenal,” they all muttered, hanging their heads. It was never a good thing to get on the bad side of a centaur. But the furtive glances they cast one another and the secret, smug smirks let me know I hadn’t seen the end of their taunts today.

Mr. Cenal helped me to stand. My chest stuttered with my barely-checked tears. Pulling me into the protective circle of his arms, he muttered softly, “This can’t keep happening. Not to you, Jerrick. I think it’s time I had a chat with your parents.”

I gasped. If he spoke to my parents, my mother would hex everyone, and then I’d really have no friends.

“No, wait!” I wiggled out from his arms and quickly rolled my wrists back and forth. “It was just a misunderstanding, I swear. I can fix it. I can fix this.”

He frowned. Large, shaggy brows covered his eyes. “Jerrick, why? Why do you continue to make excuses for people who are undeserving of your mercy?”