Soojin lowered the phone slowly, the silence of her apartment pressing down heavier than the weight of her father's words.
Her thumb lingered over the darkened screen, as if by holding it longer she could keep him close, stall the ache clawing at her chest. His voice—steady, gentle, too perceptive—still echoed in her mind. Find happiness, not just fame.
The phrase cut sharper than she wanted to admit. Happiness? She wasn't even sure what that looked like anymore.
A knock jolted her out of her daze. Three brisk raps, impatient.
"Soojin!" Clara Kwon's voice sliced through the wood. "We're going to be late. Don't tell me you're still sitting around."
Soojin inhaled sharply, pushed the phone under a throw pillow as though hiding contraband, and stood. Her body felt sluggish, her head buzzing with too many tangled thoughts. She smoothed her hair in the mirror, pressed a dab of gloss onto pale lips, and schooled her face into the kind of bland cheer her manager demanded.
When she opened the door, Clara was already tapping at her watch. "You have ten minutes before you need to be in the car. The network wants you sharp for the taping—variety shows are about energy. Bright smiles, clear answers. Don't space out."
"I won't," Soojin said, though her throat felt tight.
Clara's eyes narrowed. "You look pale. Did you sleep?"
"I'm fine," Soojin lied.
The lie was automatic now. It had become her second language.
---
The van ride to the broadcasting station was filled with Clara rattling off instructions: "Don't cross your legs, sit up straight, laugh when the hosts joke, don't eat too much of the food they bring out—it looks bad on camera. And for heaven's sake, if they ask about dating rumors, deflect gracefully."
Dating rumors. The phrase made Soojin's stomach clench. She turned to look out the tinted window at the blur of Seoul lights rushing past. Somewhere in this city, Jae was probably at his own rehearsal, or a dinner with executives, or maybe tucked into some penthouse suite in L.A. Still hers, technically—but not in any way she could claim.
When they reached the station, fans were already gathered outside, waving light sticks and banners. Their cheers pierced the air as Soojin stepped out. The sound usually energized her. Tonight, it felt almost mocking, as if every shout of her name was a reminder of the mask she had to wear.
Inside, the variety show set was buzzing with chaos—makeup artists dabbing at idols' faces, stylists adjusting outfits, staff shouting cues. Soojin plastered on her practiced smile as she greeted the other guests.
And then she saw him.
Jae Kang.
He was leaning casually against a prop pillar, chatting with a junior MC. His laugh rang out, smooth and magnetic, and cameras swiveled instinctively to catch him even before the taping began. He wore his stardom like a second skin—effortless, untouchable.
Their eyes met for the briefest moment. His expression didn't shift, didn't betray recognition, not even the smallest flicker. He looked at her the way colleagues look at each other: polite, neutral, forgettable.
Soojin's heart plummeted even though she told herself she should be used to it by now.
---
The taping began with a blast of cheerful music. The hosts bounced on stage, introducing the guests one by one. When Soojin's name was called, the crowd in the live studio erupted. She bowed, waved, and took her seat across from Jae—deliberately not next to him, though the producers probably arranged it that way.
The opening chatter was harmless enough. Banter about their recent projects, food preferences, silly anecdotes. Soojin smiled at the right times, laughed when expected. It was exhausting work, wearing charm like armor.
But then one of the MCs grinned mischievously. "Soojin-ssi, our viewers are curious. You've played so many romantic roles lately… what is your ideal type in real life?"
The question was inevitable, but her heart still stuttered.
Her mind screamed one answer: Jae.
The man sitting less than five meters from her. The man she kissed in secret, whose ring she hid in the drawer of her vanity, whose absence carved holes into her nights.
But her lips curved into a light laugh, the kind fans adored. "My ideal type?" she repeated, buying time. "Someone who makes me laugh… who can cook, maybe. But honestly, I'm too busy these days to think about dating."
The audience chuckled. The hosts teased her playfully. The cameras zoomed in on her coy smile.
And then a ripple of laughter from the opposite side drew the crowd's attention.
Jae.
He was laughing at her response—his eyes crinkling, his shoulders shaking as though he found it genuinely funny. To the viewers, it looked like harmless amusement. To Soojin, it was a knife twist. Because she knew that laugh. She knew the way his eyes softened when he looked at her.
But tonight, that softness wasn't for her. It was for the cameras.
Fans in the audience immediately picked up on it. Phones whispered in the dark, tweets already composing themselves. "Why did Jae laugh like that at Soojin's answer? Friendly rivals? New ship?"
Her chest tightened, but she kept her smile pinned in place. She had to.
The MCs seized the moment. "Ah, Jae Kang-ssi, what about you? Is Soojin your type?"
The audience erupted into squeals.
Jae's grin widened effortlessly, but his voice was perfectly measured. "Soojin is very talented. Anyone would admire her. But my type? Someone a little more… unpredictable."
The crowd went wild, giggles and shrieks filling the set. The hosts clapped in delight at his clever deflection.
Soojin's fingernails dug into her palm beneath the table, hidden from the cameras. Unpredictable. Not her, then. Never her.
---
The rest of the taping blurred by in a haze of games and scripted laughter. Soojin played her role diligently, but her focus kept slipping. Every time Jae's gaze wandered in her direction, she forced herself not to react. Every time the audience screamed over his jokes, she pressed her smile harder, until her cheeks burned.
When it was finally over, the applause faded, the lights dimmed, and staff rushed to clear the stage.
Soojin slipped backstage, tugging off her microphone. She wanted to disappear before anyone noticed her trembling hands.
But she didn't make it far.
Around the corner, she heard Jae's voice—low, easy, laughing again. He was surrounded by staff, all praising his segment. Mina Choi's name floated into the conversation—she was scheduled to join him for a joint promotional interview the following week.
Soojin froze, every muscle stiff. She knew she should walk away, but her feet wouldn't move. The sound of his laughter mingling with theirs made her feel like she was crumbling from the inside out.
She turned abruptly, nearly colliding with Clara.
"There you are," Clara snapped, tugging at her sleeve. "Don't wander off. Reporters are sniffing around. Let's get you to the van before anyone corners you with questions."
Soojin nodded mutely, letting herself be steered away. But her gaze flicked back one last time toward Jae, still glowing in the center of his orbit.
Her husband. Her stranger.
She lowered her eyes quickly before the sting behind them betrayed her.
And as Clara hurried her down the hall, past the hum of voices and flashing cameras, Soojin felt the walls closing in tighter than ever.
Her father's words returned like a cruel refrain: Find happiness, not just fame.