"Do you want to go shopping?" Beomgyu asks me, the next day after classes.

I look at him, bathed in the afternoon sunlight, as we cross the street opposite the university to our dorm. "Huh? I thought you needed to practice today."

"I won't have to be at the company for another few hours," Beomgyu says. "We can go wherever you want."

I think back to Naomi and Joyce. A picture of their leering faces haunts me, telling me that I'm not valuable enough to spend time with Beomgyu. But when I look at Beomgyu's face, experiencing his radiant welcome, I manage to forget about the girls. My nightmare fades to the background of my memory, and I am open again to the million possibilities of adventure.

The train is crowded as we head to Hongdae, a popular shopping district for Seoul's youth. A few school girls recognize Beomgyu on the way there, snapping pictures on their phone and whispering amongst themselves. I understand their feelings. If I wasn't assigned to be Beomgyu's roommate, I could've easily been one of them—looking from the outside into an idol's secret life.

Now that I've lived with him for a week, I understand that he's as human as the rest of us. He uses the bathroom. He gets hungry. He groans about long readings we're assigned for homework.

Hongdae, even on a Tuesday, is teeming with tourists and locals alike. Bikers and mopeds twine through the crowd, and honking cars part the crowd with rugged determination. A multitude of shops line either side of me, with neon signs and salespersons handing out free samples and trying to lure in shoppers with discounts pasted on front windows. 90% off one reads, surrounded by a glittery drawing of a handsome man with a clay face mask.

"What do you think?" Beomgyu asks me. "I mean, we were here for the tteokbokki and the spa, but there's so much more to explore. Do you want to head to a cafe?"

Beomgyu is a burst of radiant energy, and I don't want to deny any of his enthusiasm. "Sure. Sitting in cafes is one of my favorite pastimes."

Beomgyu leads me through a spiderweb of side alleys, where we eventually end up at a place called Halo Coffee. The sign includes the image of a baby angel holding a coffee cup, and the smell of caffeine immediately revitalizes me. I enter the place, which is in the corner of an alley, with the expectation of a small hole in the wall.

But I'm met with an expansive space, one that can hold at least fifty customers. A glass dome ceiling lets in the glow of sunlight, and vines climb the bricked walls in symmetrical patterns. The tables are decorated with vases and various-colored roses, and the bustle of friends chattering over iced Americanos fills my ears.

Beomgyu orders a strawberry smoothie, and I go for a mango iced tea.

"Let me pay," Beomgyu says, fishing out his credit card.

"No." I smack his hand away, reaching into my phone wallet. "Let me pay."

"Jayden," Beomgyu moans, "I want to treat you. I'm the one who invited you out."

I hold his gaze for a dangerous few seconds, and he wins out in the end. "Fine. But I'm treating you for the next meal."

"That's right," Beomgyu says. He hands over his card to the cashier. "My friends deserve the best treatment."

There's that word again. I still am in disbelief that Beomgyu would call me his friend, that I'm close enough to him that he'd treat me to a drink. Maybe I'm stuck in some prolonged fantasy dream, where idols mix with exchange students and the sun shines its light on boys with faraway dreams.

"You know," Beomgyu says, as we sit down with our drinks, "I used to not have many friends at all. Until I met the other members, I'd spend my birthdays alone. I received zero messages on what was supposed to be my most important day of the year, so I used to always feel down about that."

"How did it feel to be put in the debut group as soon as you arrived in Seoul?" I ask.

Beomgyu leans his head from side to side. "You know, it was a ton of pressure. I already mentioned that I used to cry when the other members went home and I tried to catch up in dancing. I stared in the mirror and often didn't recognize the person I was looking at."

I nod in between sips. "But look at you now. You made it."

He turns around his glass in place, his fingers dancing on the condensation. "I really did make it. And now I have a bunch of amazing fans who will support me through anything. It's a good feeling."

I try for a smile, even though the image of Naomi and Joyce keep popping up in my head—that small sector of a toxic fanbase that comes with every celebrity. Even though most people are good and supportive, there will always be a sour bunch among the grapevine. "Do you have any regrets?" I ask Beomgyu.

He tilts his head to the side. "No. I have no regrets," he says. "I've lived a really good life so far." He juts his chin in my direction. "How about you?"

My mind travels me back to my ex boyfriend, the boy who broke my heart on the fifth day of May. "I regret falling in love too quickly," I say, hurting at how true my statement is.

Beomgyu hums in empathy. "Jayden, you can talk about him with me, if you're comfortable."

I nod. It takes a few deep breaths for me to gain the courage to speak again. "Even though it was nine months," I say, "I really thought our love would last forever. It felt like something pure, like a gem in a world of chaos."

"Good metaphor," Beomgyu says. "See, I can tell you're a good writer."

I clutch my glass tightly, trying to copy Beomgyu in swiping my fingers across the cold sheen of water. It does nothing to help my slowly rising temperature. "You know, my ex left me for someone else. It's not like he fell out of love or that I did something wrong. In many ways, it hurts much more knowing that someone else became more important to him."

"He sucks," Beomgyu says. "Through and through. I hope that you can look back on this day and recognize when you truly started healing."

I look straight into Beomgyu's eyes, his dark irises which shine like copper under the glass and sunlight. "Beomgyu, you're the reason why I'm starting to heal. I hope you know that."

Beomgyu shakes his head. "It's only because you took the chance to come to Korea that you began to heal. I played no part in that. I'm just the side character to your journey of your heart mending back to normal."

I stare straight ahead at him. "Are you kidding me? You're the main character—I'm just an extra compared to you."

Beomgyu shakes his head, his bangs flying widely off to the side. He adjusts in his seat, leaning closer to make his point. "Jayden, you're the main character of your own story. And I want you to know you're in control of your destiny. You chose to heal. That's the most important thing. You came across the seas and decided to start an adventure when by all means, you could've stayed still and be overcome by sadness."

"I didn't think of it that way," I say. "I thought it was cowardly of me to come here just because I felt shitty."

Beomgyu smiles. "I don't think so. I think you're brave."

I stare at him for quite some time. I realize that Beomgyu has a lot more depth to him than the ball of energy displayed on a screen. He's truly a person who's in touch with his own feelings and the feelings of others. He deserves a career where he's adored and loved by fans across the world. He's certainly worked hard enough to get there.

"Thank you, I—"

I don't complete my sentence. From the corner of my eyes, Naomi and Joyce enter the cafe. They carry their phones and are dressed in matching varsity jackets, like twin harbingers of death. Beomgyu notices my gaze switching quickly, and even though I try to hide my panic, my body erupts in cold shivers.

"Look who we have here," Naomi announces across the room.

I freeze in my seat. There's nowhere to run.