The small restaurant in Itaewon was hidden behind a tangle of neon signs and brick alleys, the kind of place where celebrities sometimes dared to breathe. No paparazzi lurked here; no fans camped outside. Just the clink of chopsticks, the warm murmur of laughter, and the comforting scent of bubbling jjigae drifting through the air.
Soojin adjusted her cap lower, slipping into the booth across from Nari Yoo. Her friend waved her over with a grin, already stirring a pot of steaming kimchi stew in the center of the table.
"You're late," Nari teased, though her eyes softened. "Busy being the nation's sweetheart?"
Soojin exhaled a shaky laugh. "More like busy being told not to breathe unless the company approves it."
Nari chuckled, pouring them both tea. "That's the industry. Everyone wants the dream until they realize how much of themselves they have to kill to keep it."
For a while, they ate in silence, the spice of the stew burning away the bitter taste of the past few days. But Soojin's thoughts wouldn't quiet. Every flashbulb headline, every whispered warning from Clara, every text from Jae that said only trust me—they all pulsed in her chest like bruises.
Finally, she set down her chopsticks. "Nari… do you ever wonder what it would be like if we weren't idols?"
Her friend raised an eyebrow. "Like, if we worked at a café or something?"
"Something normal," Soojin said softly. "Something where I could hold Jae's hand in the street without fear. Where I could post a picture with him without ending our lives."
Nari's smile faded. She leaned back, studying her. "You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"
Soojin looked down at her tea, fingers tightening around the cup. "Every night. I dream about walking through Hongdae together, eating tteokbokki from a street stall. Or sitting in a park and laughing without checking if someone's watching. Just… us. No lies. No hiding."
Nari reached across the table, resting a hand over hers. "That's a beautiful dream, Soojin. But it's not our reality."
---
The words stung, but Soojin needed to hear them. She met Nari's steady gaze.
"Do you really think it would be that bad? If people found out?"
Nari's lips pressed into a thin line. "Bad? It would be catastrophic. The fans—especially Jae's—they'd tear you apart. They'd call you a manipulator, say you trapped him. The company would scramble to do damage control, probably push him into that rumor with Evelyn Hart just to bury the truth. And you? You'd be branded as the liar, the traitor to your fans. The girl who destroyed the illusion."
Soojin's chest tightened. She imagined the tidal wave of hate comments, the vicious hashtags, the loss of everything she'd built. "But why does love have to be a scandal? Why does happiness feel like a crime?"
Nari sighed, her voice gentler now. "Because our happiness isn't just ours. It belongs to millions of strangers who buy into the fantasy. To them, you're supposed to be available, untouchable, perfect. The moment you reveal you're human, you're disposable."
---
The weight of those words pressed down on Soojin, but deep inside, a flicker of rebellion sparked. "Then what's the point, Nari? What's the point of all of this—the music, the fame, the fans—if it costs us the right to love?"
Nari's eyes softened again. "That's the trap, Soojin. We trade pieces of ourselves for the stage lights. And most of us decide it's worth it."
"But is it?" Soojin whispered. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm strong enough to keep living like this. Watching him smile on stage, watching rumors spin around him, while I stay invisible in the shadows."
Nari hesitated, her thumb brushing against Soojin's hand in comfort. "Have you told him this?"
Soojin shook her head. "He says it's temporary. That someday, when the timing is right, we'll go public. But I don't know if I believe him anymore. Every time I dream of us being free, reality drags me back into silence."
---
For a moment, the restaurant's noise faded, leaving only the two of them at their little table of truth. Nari's voice dropped, firm but kind.
"Listen to me, Soojin. You're my friend, so I'll be honest. If you reveal your marriage now, it won't just endanger your career—it could end Jae's too. He's not just a star, he's the star. He carries an empire on his back. If it crumbles, he crumbles. And so do you."
The words twisted like a knife, because they were true. She knew the cost. She'd known it the day she signed the marriage papers in secret, the day she chose love over logic. But knowing it didn't make the ache any less.
Soojin's voice broke. "So what do I do? Keep pretending? Keep hiding forever?"
Nari's expression softened with something like pity. "You do what every idol does, Soojin. You survive. You protect the people you love, even if it means burying parts of yourself. And you pray the dream doesn't suffocate you before it pays off."
---
When they finally left the restaurant, the night air was cool against Soojin's cheeks. Nari tugged her scarf higher, scanning the street for cameras, but there were none. Just a quiet Seoul evening, full of lights and laughter, families walking together, couples holding hands openly.
Soojin stared at them with a hollow longing. That's all I want. Just something this simple.
Nari nudged her shoulder gently. "You okay?"
Soojin forced a smile. "Yeah. Just… wishing."
They walked in silence for a few blocks, until they had to part ways. As Soojin hailed a cab, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass window of a convenience store. To the world, she was flawless—hair tucked neatly, cap pulled low, the polished star everyone adored.
But behind her own eyes, she saw the truth: a girl caught between love and survival.
As the cab pulled away, she whispered the words that had been trapped in her chest all night.
"I just want to be his wife. Not his secret."
The city swallowed her confession, leaving only the quiet hum of traffic and the ghost of a dream she wasn't sure she'd ever touch.