The car ride to the agency is exactly as miserable as expected. The moment I slide into the van, I glance around, then frown. “Where’s Jisoo?”

Park Doyun, Vortex’s manager, glances at me in the rearview mirror, his voice level. “He’ll follow in his own car.”

I blink. “Why?”

Min, who hasn’t said a word until now, shifts slightly in his seat. “I have other meetings after this, Jae and Seon have engagements Doyun-hyung needs to drive them to, and Jisoo has something later in the afternoon.” He tilts his head slightly in my direction. “The manager can’t drive him, so it’s smarter for him to take his own car.”

I process that for a second, then nod. “Right. Makes sense.”

Min studies me for a moment, watching the confusion on my face as I adjust to the reality of how structured their lives are. Before I can dwell on it, the van starts moving, and the morning spirals further into hell.

Jae hums some obnoxious pop song off-key, like he’s actively trying to ruin my morning. Seon scrolls through his phone, occasionally snickering at whatever he’s looking at. Min stares out the window, expression blank, like he’s either deep in thought or mentally plotting someone’s demise. I have myself wedged into the smallest corner of the van, arms crossed, trying to become one with the seat and pretend i’m still in my comfy bed. By the time we pull up to the agency, my patience is already hanging by a thread. 

The PR team is waiting for us in a sleek, glass-walled conference room—cold, calculated, and way too pristine. The kind of place where fun goes to die. At the head of the table, Hee-Ra stands with her arms crossed, an all-too-smug expression on her face, like she’s been waiting for this moment just to watch me suffer. She taps her fingers against a neatly organized stack of folders—thick, ominous, and entirely too official-looking.

I drop into the nearest chair, barely resisting the urge to slide under the table and nap until this nightmare is over. 

“These are your schedules for the month,” she announces, her tone brisk and efficient. “They include every appearance Naomi will make, along with a projected schedule for the entire year. That part is subject to change on a monthly basis, depending on how things develop.”

One of the PR team members steps forward, distributing the folders to everyone at the table. Just as I flip mine open, the conference room door opens, and Jisoo walks in. Without a word, he takes the empty seat directly across from me, settling in like he’s been here the whole time. His dark eyes flick briefly toward me, unreadable as ever, before shifting to Hee-Ra.

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Now that we’re all here, Yoon Eun-Ji will walk us through this month’s schedule in detail.”

Hee-Ra moves to sit down beside me as Eun-Ji takes her place at the front of the room, clearing her throat before addressing the group. “Good morning, everyone. Let’s get started.”

I flip open the schedule, already bracing for the worst. Fan events. Press interviews. Carefully staged public outings designed to look spontaneous. Fake dates with Min, strategically timed for maximum media coverage.

I turn the page. More promotional events, brand appearances, and—oh, fantastic—a live-streamed Q&A where I apparently have to act like I’m completely smitten with a man who barely tolerates my existence. Eun-Ji keeps droning on in the background, her voice a low hum of corporate bullshit as I skim further. It just keeps going. A relentless cycle of pretending, smiling, acting. My schedule is packed so tight it’s suffocating. Where exactly am I supposed to fit in my life in all of this? My eye twitches as I flip to the weekly breakdown. I have maybe—maybe—four free nights to myself. And that’s if I’m lucky.

“What the hell,” I mutter under my breath, dragging a hand down my face.

“What was that?” The Eun-Ji glances at me.

I school my expression into something resembling professionalism. “Nothing. Just… processing.” Processing the fact that I have no time to do anything that actually matters to me. Where does my real life fit into this nightmare? My anime marathons? My late-night gaming sessions? My weekends spent in oversized pajamas, doing absolutely nothing?

The answer is—it doesn’t.

“You’ll also need to be available for impromptu PR moves,” the agent continues. “Sometimes, the narrative shifts, and we’ll need to act fast. There may be last-minute adjustments.”

“Last-minute?” I echo, flipping to the next page. “You already have my life scheduled down to the hour. What’s left to adjust?”

Eun-Ji smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes my stomach drop. “You’ll see.”

I glance up at Min, who still hasn’t said a word, his expression blank as he scans the same pages. He’s probably used to this—having his time micromanaged, his existence reduced to whatever sells best. But I’m not him. I didn’t sign up to be a goddamn corporation’s puppet. I tap the paper in front of me, exhaling slowly. “So, just to be clear… My job is to be Min’s 24/7 accessory?”

Hee-Ra, who’s been sitting back and watching my slow descent into madness with open amusement, finally chimes in. “Not 24/7,” she muses. “You do get bathroom breaks.”

I shoot her a look. “Hilarious.”

Jae, who’s been half-listening, grins lazily. “Better get used to it, sweetheart. You’re one of us now.”

Seon nudges my elbow. “Noona, don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

Fun. Right. I glance back down at my schedule, staring at the endless parade of forced public appearances. Yeah. Fun.

My eye twitches as I go over the yearly projections in the folder. "Why the fuck does this say 'staged jealousy fight'?"

One of the PR team members adjusts their glasses. “Fans eat them up. People need to see conflict.”

I blink. “You want me to… stage a fight with Min?”

Hee-Ra shrugs, looking way too entertained. “Or let Jae touch your waist a little too long. Or Seon pull you aside for a ‘private moment.’” She makes air quotes like this is all perfectly reasonable.

I gape at her. Jae? Seon? Do they think I’ll survive that?

Jae, hearing his name, perks up instantly. “Oh, I volunteer.” He leans forward, resting his chin in his palm, smirking. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll make it very convincing.”

Seon grins, tilting his head. “I don’t mind either. I bet you’d look cute all flustered, noona.”

I slam the folder shut. “You’re insane.”

“You agreed to this,” Hee-Ra reminds me, eyes glinting with amusement.

“I agreed to a fake relationship. Not to becoming the lead actress in a K-drama.”

“Fake relationships come with fake drama.”

Across the table, Jisoo exhales slowly, like he’s already tired of this conversation.

I shoot him a look. “You have something to add?”

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t react much at all. He just studies me, dark eyes calm but assessing. Then, finally, he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “If you’re smart, you’ll play along,” he says, voice even.

I scoff. “Oh? And what do you suggest? That I throw myself at you next?”

For the first time, the corner of his mouth barely twitches. Jisoo doesn’t smirk like Jae. Doesn’t tease like Seon. Doesn’t push like Min. But somehow, that quiet confidence hits harder. Jisoo just shrugs, gaze drifting back to the schedule. End of conversation. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Jae, however, is thriving off the tension, chin propped on his palm as he watches with amusement. “Damn. You two are kind of hot.”

Min sighs sharply. “Shut up.”

Jae grins. “I mean, if she’s gotta stage a scandal, I’d pay to see that one.”

I shoot him a glare. “Not happening.”

Seon chuckles. “Not yet.”

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “I hate all of you.”

Min exhales, pushing his chair back slightly. “Enough.” His voice is low, firm. “She doesn’t need to act like she’s interested in any of you.” He says it so smoothly, so carelessly, that it makes my eye twitch even more.

“Oh?” I tilt my head, voice saccharine. “And what makes you think I’d be interested in you, boyfriend?”

Min doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. He just holds my gaze, cool and unreadable. “Because you already are.”

My jaw tightens.

Jae whistles low. “Damn.”

Seon’s eyes sparkle with delight. “I like this game.”

As if the entire conversation never happened, Eun-Ji coughs to get everyone’s attention, flips the page and keeps going.

“The couple’s photoshoot is scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

I choke on my own spit. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes. The sooner we establish the visual chemistry, the better.”

Visual chemistry. Visual chemistry. I squeeze my eyes shut. “Let me get this straight. You want me to wake up at an ungodly hour, pose like I’m hopelessly in love with Min, and let the entire country analyze my every facial twitch? All within 24 hours of moving in?”

Eun-Ji blinks at me like I just asked if the sky is blue. “Correct.”

I slump in my chair, dragging a hand down my face. “I hope you all know I’m billing you extra for emotional distress.”

Min leans back, completely unaffected. “You’ll survive.”

I shoot him a glare. “Oh, you’ll survive. You do this for a living. I’m just a civilian caught in a PR hurricane.”

Jae snickers, clearly enjoying the show. “I dunno, sweetheart. You do have a bit of a performer streak.”

I snap my head toward him. “What part of me gave you that impression?”

Seon hums, tapping his chin. “The fact that you haven’t run yet.”

I scoff. “Believe me, I’m tempted.”

Eun-Ji clears her throat, dragging us back on track. “The theme is romantic elegance. Think soft lighting, cozy couple moments, subtle touches.”

Subtle touches. I don’t like the sound of that. “Define subtle,” I mutter.

“Hand-holding, forehead touches, lingering eye contact. Maybe an almost-kiss.”

I freeze. My stomach twists. Before I can react, Min speaks first, a smug smile plastered on his lips. “You can handle that right, Naomi?”

I turn my head slowly, narrowing my eyes. “You sound awfully confident about that.”

Min’s expression doesn’t change. “Shouldn’t I be?”

I huff out a humorless laugh. “We’ll see how confident you are tomorrow when they tell you to gaze into my eyes like i’m the only one able to anchor you and keep you alive.”

He finally tilts his head slightly, considering. Then, in that infuriatingly calm tone, he says—

“That won’t be a problem.”

Jae lets out a low whistle. “Oh, that was smooth.”

Seon grins. “He’s getting into character early.”

I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.What the hell is that supposed to mean? I shake my head. “I need a raise.”

Eun-Ji sighs. “You already got a raise.”

“Then double it.”

Hee-Ra, the traitor, claps her hands together like this is all very exciting. “It’s going to be fine! You’ll do the shoot, look amazing, and by tomorrow night, the internet will be in shambles.”

“Oh, great. That’s exactly what I wanted—global humiliation.”

Jisoo, who has been silent up until now, exhales slowly.

“You’re still fighting it.”

I whip my head toward him. “Fighting what, Jisoo?”