The scent of fresh-baked buttery croissants and freshly ground coffee fills the air, comforting and familiar, as I slide into the corner booth of my favorite café. A delicate porcelain teacup rests between my hands, warmth seeping into my fingers as I take a slow sip. The bitterness of black tea cuts through the lingering sweetness of the shared slice of chocolate cake sitting between Hee-Ra and me.

She swipes her fork through the frosting, popping a bite into her mouth with a satisfied hum. “So,” she says, watching me with thinly veiled amusement. “Are you going to keep brooding over that contract or finally admit you’re going to sign it?”

I tap a finger against the rim of my cup. “I haven’t decided.”

Hee-Ra snorts. “Bullshit. I saw that look in your eyes when the CEO mentioned the money.”

I stab my fork into the cake, ignoring the smug tilt of her lips. “It’s not just about the money.”

“Oh, really?” She leans in, propping her chin on her palm. “What else is there?”

I swirl the tea in my cup, watching the liquid shift. “The loss of my peace. My personal space. My anime time.”

Hee-Ra groans. “Oh my god, you’re such a nerd.”

I level her with a look. “Excuse you, I am a cultured connoisseur of high-quality animated storytelling.”

“Right, right. And now, you get to live in a K-drama.”

I scowl. “That’s exactly the problem.”

She smirks, stealing another bite of cake. “They’re hot, you’ll survive.”

I shift in my seat, resting my elbow on the table. “You’re way too invested in this.”

“That’s because I know you.” She points at me with her fork. “You love challenges. You love proving people wrong. And you, my dear, are about to make an entire PR team cry.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not—”

“Oh, it totally is.”

I sigh, dragging my fork through the frosting absentmindedly. “This is going to be a mess.”

She grins, completely unbothered. “A highly profitable mess.”

I groan, leaning back against the booth. “God help me.”

Hee-Ra raises her cup. “To selling your soul for financial stability.”

I clink my cup against hers. “To regretting it immediately.”

“Naomi, you’re not signing your soul away. It’s a contract, not a blood pact.”

I scowl. “Same thing.”

She smirks. “Hardly. This is only for one year. A year. My PR team already has a breakup strategy for you and Min once the contract is up. You have nothing to worry about.”

I pause mid-sip. “A… breakup strategy?”

She nods, casually stealing another bite of cake. “Of course. No one expects you to date him forever. They’ve already planned your ‘busy schedules leading to a natural, amicable split.’”

I blink. “They’re planning the breakup before we’ve even started?”

She shrugs. “That’s how this industry works.”

I stare at her. “That’s deranged.”

“Welcome to idol life, babe.”

I set my cup down, rubbing my temples. “So let me get this straight. Not only am I faking a relationship, but I also have to fake a devastating, heart-wrenching breakup?”

“Oh, it won’t be that dramatic.” She waves a hand. “Just a quiet, respectful separation where you both move on with no hard feelings.”

I groan. “God, what did you get me into. I hate this already”

She grins. “You say that now, but wait until you’re getting paid to be fake-wooed by one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors.”

I scoff. “Please. You act like I’m going to enjoy this.”

Her smirk deepens. “Aren’t you?”

I stab my fork into the cake again, refusing to dignify her with an answer.

She lets out a laugh, but I don’t. I stare at the dark liquid in my cup, tapping my nails against the porcelain. “What if I do regret it?” I mutter, barely above a whisper.

Hee-Ra blinks at me. “What do you mean?”

I sigh, setting my cup down. “You know how insane idol fans can be. Some of them have entire databases tracking their every move. They analyze shadows in pictures to figure out where they are. If they think I’m actually dating one of them—” I exhale. “What if they get too aggressive?”

Hee-Ra quiets for a moment, her teasing gone. “Naomi, you’ve handled worse.”

“Have I?” I raise a brow. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever had thousands of rabid fans out for my blood before.”

“You won’t be alone,” she says firmly. “The agency will have security measures in place. The boys are used to this—they know how to handle it. And you? You don’t take shit from anyone. If there’s anyone who can deal with obsessive fans, it’s you.”

I chew the inside of my cheek. “And the agency?”

“What about them?”

I meet her gaze. “What if they try to screw me over? Or throw me under the bus at some point?”

Hee-Ra exhales, setting her cup down. “They won’t. Not if you’re careful.”

I arch a brow.

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. There’s always a risk. But that’s why you’ll read everything before you sign. You won’t let them push you around.”

I sigh. “I just—what if I end up stuck? What if they find some loophole and I can’t get out of it?”

She reaches across the table, squeezing my wrist. “Then I’ll find a way to get you out.”

I let out a slow breath, nodding.

Then, just as quickly, her smirk returns. “Besides,” she says, twirling her fork between her fingers, “you haven’t even thought about the worst part yet.”

I frown. “What?”

Her eyes gleam. “The romance.”

I groan. “Oh my god.”

She grins, practically bouncing in her seat. “You’re going to have to fake a whole relationship, Naomi. Holding hands, dates, stolen glances.”

I scowl. “I hate you.”

“Maybe even a staged kiss—”

“I really hate you.”

She cackles, leaning back against the booth. “I hoped you’d get paired with Jae. He would have made your life hell.”

I shove a forkful of cake into my mouth so I don’t have to respond.

She hums. “But Min is a good choice too. You’d combust in two weeks.”

I roll my eyes. “I can handle it.”

She arches a brow. “Oh?”

I sip my tea, lifting my chin. “Unlike some people, I have self-control.”

Hee-Ra bites back a smirk. “Right. Of course.”

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” she singsongs.

I glare. “You don’t believe me.”

She props her chin on her palm, grinning. “Naomi, you’re about to spend a whole year faking romance with one of the hottest idols in Korea. You’re telling me that won’t get to you?”

“Yes.”

She leans in. “Not even a little?”

“No.”

She drags out the word. “Not even if he starts getting really into it?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s acting. It’s fake. None of it will be real.”

She tilts her head. “What if it feels real?”

I let out a short laugh. “Please. They’re idols. They probably rehearse kissing like it’s choreography.”

Her smirk widens. “That didn’t answer my question.”

I huff, tearing a piece of cake off with my fork. “It won’t happen.”

“Mm.”

“I won’t fall for any of them.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I won’t.”

She shrugs. “If you say so.”

I scowl. “Why do you look so smug?”

“Because,” she says, sipping her coffee, “you sound so confident.”

I shove another bite of cake into my mouth, refusing to dignify her with a response. She just grins.