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Hacking.
Grabbing their schedules, seducing, fake AI shit and editing that makes me want to seriously bring down the law on them. And then there are the ones that are angry if they even look at a girl besides them, because, how dare you think you could possibly be an idol and have a relationship that’s not with me?
So in retaliation, they fight, they throw eggs at them, they protest, they yell—they set up trucks in front of the agencies trying to cancel them; they make a big fuss.
And why? Because they truly, deeply in their soul, believe they’re going to end up with this superstar? I mean, I thought I was going to marry a Backstreet Boy, but I never stalked and threatened them for not seeing my true beauty at age fifteen with braces and frizzy hair. It’s complete bullshit. It makes zero sense, and it annoys me so much that it’s almost hard to do my job in a professional manner.
And there’s nothing I can really do to stop the madness. This is the life of a K-pop superstar. And like my brother, Rae, Sookie chose it.
But I can try to protect them as much as I can.
And I can get mad for them when they’re not allowed to show any emotion.
It’s quiet on the way back to the dorm and I’m more than curious about his new ink. I don’t understand why he’s being so secretive. He usually shows me right away.
Not this time.
He’s holding his wrist, covering it from my eyes like it’s precious. He rubs his thumb over the sensitive skin before quickly pulling out his phone, the minute he catches me watching.
Now, I’m more than curious about what he got on that beautiful skin—on that skin that will never be mine to truly touch.
He starts to type away.
“Lyrics?” I ask without needing to actually ask. I know he’s always in his head.
He nods. “Mmm.”
I smile at him reassuringly, then focus back on the road. “Work, you deserve it, watch this new song get like a hundred million views in one month.”
His easy laugh has me exhaling in a way that feels like instant relief. Good, he’s at least happy now, and relaxed. I did my job. I don’t have to worry. “Mine never reach that many views even though it’s for the group. I guess they hurt too much.”
“The group?” I ask.
“The words,” he finally says, putting his phone away and tucking it back into his pocket. He still has the Yankees hat on and so do I for that matter. “Hey, should we go get dinner—“
He stops himself mid sentence like he knows it’s not possible.
And sadly, we both know it never will be. He’s not allowed to date per his contract, and I’m his best friend’s sister. I’m also technically an employee, so I keep driving and try to sound happy when I offer. “Ramen?”
We could at least stop at a convenience store and bulk him up. He’s been losing more weight but I can’t tell if it’s the stress or the lack of eating while practicing seven hours a day.
“No.” He looks down at his hands again. “I’m on a diet. I already had chips and a candy bar and they’ll probably start weighing us again since we have the comeback, and I’ll have no excuses except I was breathing air.”
“It does contain calories, air.” I point out.
He doesn’t laugh at my joke as I pull up to the dorms again and then down into the basement of the parking garage. The tension is thick in the car while I park next to the elevators.
He starts to open the door but I grab him by the hand, loving how warm it is and how his skin feels against mine. It’s hard to ignore the rush I get from touching him. “Wait. Let me look around first. I switched cars again, but you never know.”
I get out and pretend to be on my phone while walking toward the elevators. Nobody is in there like last time, waiting for a chance to see a member of SWT. The dorms are for the most part on lockdown.
I’m lucky that I even get access, most of the staff have to ask permission to go in and out. I think it’s because I’m Rae’s sister and the label trusts me. They believe that because I’m a lawyer, I would never break the rules.
They don’t know I take their youngest group member for snacks and tattoos, or that we had one stolen moment where I discovered how he tasted and felt against my body. One stolen moment that has haunted me for years. But it’s our secret. Forever.
It wouldn’t just destroy his entire career—but mine too. God, it’s hard to imagine that going to a convenience store followed by a fifteen minute tattoo appointment can end a person’s career.
I take one more look around, pretend to fix my chin length black hair and nod toward the car, where I know he’s watching, only to immediately see another start to come down into the garage. It’s a white van and looks suspicious. Anytime I see a van I am immediately on high alert because I assume it’s paparazzi.
