Zion's surgery is successful. While Zion recovers, I tour the city with Jungkook. We stop at every major neighborhood, carried by the golden carriage with the horses. I'm dressed in the same golden dress, Jungkook in his suit. The day is sunny, and the enthusiasm of the crowds who gather to meet us almost let me forget about the mania at our coronation.

I shake the hands of little children and elders, and everyone in between. They ask me my plans for the future, acting like I'm not a killer who's faking it. Jungkook is the natural—coming alive under the attention. His initial shyness makes way for a boy who shouts back when people wave and stops to sign autographs even without being told. His hardness melts away, and suddenly he's no longer the thief with a dark past. He is as radiant as a singular star in the midnight sky.

Finally, when the sun is almost meeting the horizon, we stop at my neighborhood.

"Cosma, look at you!"

I turn toward the familiar voice. "Melody?"

One of my friends from high school, joined by other boys and girls who were also my classmates.

"Who knew you were brave enough to join League of Fame!" Melody says. "You're the coolest. Everyone in the neighborhood is talking about you. And your boyfriend."

"Excuse me?" I ask, some of the relief of meeting familiar faces melting away.

"You and Jungkook are the perfect couple," she says. "I'm jealous."

Jungkook grins. "It's good to meet you all. Thank you for coming out to make Cosma feel comfortable."

"You're so handsome," says Sofie, one of Melody's close friends. "I hope you give us tickets to your first performance."

"If you know Cosma, you'll get in free for sure," Jungkook says.

I see friends of my parents, the owners of restaurants that I frequent, even my school teachers. They all stop to shake my hand, commenting on how beautiful I look in my dress. In light of so many familiar faces, I can almost forget about the innocent girl's mother and the others who held out signs protesting our fame.

"Are you really going to be a model?" says Mrs. Yee, my math teacher for four years.

I try for a smile, hoping that my inner unease isn't showing through. "Or an actress," I say.

Mrs. Yee, still dressed in her signature long skirt and white blouse, smiles back. "You would make a wonderful model or actress. Either way, I am glad a girl like you can spread happiness to this broken country."

Mrs. Yee almost succeeds in making me believe that I am doing something good in this world. But it just feels like I'm a fake. No matter, I give her a firm handshake. "I promise I won't let you down," I say, and the inner me is shouting at me not to spew any more lies.

"Thank you for coming," I shout out to my friends and family's friends. Even Zion's classmates are clapping for me, peering through the crowds to get a better look. "I will see you all soon. I'll be a star that you all can be proud of."

For a moment, I'm not lying at all. I really don't want to let these people down, the village that raised me.

On our way back to the mansions, Jungkook emits a heavy sigh. "I'm absolutely exhausted."

I sigh too, like the day's weight is infectious. "I don't think I have it in me to be a star."

Jungkook loops an arm through mine. "You've been telling thousands of people you'll be a model or actress. You can't escape it now."

As the road to the mansions comes into view, I lower my voice so that the driver of the carriage can't hear. "What have you heard about the protests?"

"Don't worry," Jungkook says, matching my volume. "They're mostly mad at Mr. Fame, not us."

"I'm scared that my family will be targeted," I say.

"It's possible, but unlikely," Jungkook says. "You shouldn't worry."

I breathe deeply, but it still feels like my body is lacking oxygen. "It still feels like we're playing a game," I say. "After the trumpet rang, I thought it was all over. But it seems like it's only the beginning."

Jungkook is quiet as we ascend the hill toward the mansions, into the embrace of the tree lines. "I'm talking to the six idols," he says.

"What do they say?" I ask.

Jungkook seems a bit hesitant, like he isn't quite sure of himself. "They feel the same way toward Mr. Fame. Like they're still being controlled. Once, RM refused to play a show at the stadium. One that they were planning for, for months. Mr. Fame threatened him. He had his bodyguards point their guns at him so that he'll play it anyways."

Liquid fear enters my throat. "Are you serious?"

"Serious," Jungkook says. "But... now that there are more of us, Mr. Fame is outnumbered. There are talks to go against him. But he has too much power within the company. Too many employees acting under him. It will take a lot to fight back—especially when our stardom is so reliant on him. Without him, we are close to nothing in terms of influence."

"Not nothing," I say. "All of Seoul knows who we are now. If we refuse to play, Mr. Fame will have to face the public's opinion as well. You saw the protest at our coronation party."

"We have to play for a little longer," Jungkook says. "But when you're ready to fight back, I'll be right here."

I shake my head. "Let's not think of that now. How is your recording going? I heard you are working on a song with the other boys."

Jungkook smiles. "It's going great. The other guys are musical geniuses. It's an honor to work with them."

"I hope you enjoy it all," I say. "The performing, the recording. The being a star."

"You should enjoy it too, Cosma," Jungkook says. "Whatever path you choose."

I tighten the loops of our arms. "I'll try my best," I say. But why does everything that comes out of my mouth seem like a falsehood?

A/N: Reader, I appreciate you so much!