It’s not just her I see as a sister either. For better or for worse, all the Girls Forever members are like my sisters. We argue and bicker, but we also live life together and we know way too many intimate details about each other, like how Youngeun can recite every single line of the movie Tangled or how the only thing that will soothe Sumin’s killer cramps are Lotte Happy Promise custard cakes. I spend more time with them than I do with my actual family, and while I might not be as close with them as I am with Leah, the least I can do is be there for them when they need me.

“Seriously, you are the best, Rach,” Sunhee says, already putting on the boots, which look slightly ridiculous paired with her bathrobe.

“No worries.” I smile. “What are sisters for?”

The next day, we all head to DB’s gym for our mandatory workout sesh. I almost wipe out on the treadmill twice thinking about having to ask Mr. Noh for permission to attend Nell Kramer’s fashion show. Finally, our trainer cuts us loose and I make my way to the DB boardroom, where I know that Mr. Noh and the other execs will be finishing up their regular Wednesday meeting. I wait outside the door, trying to steady my breath—ragged from the two hours of cardio, and from the nerves that are coursing through my body.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll say yes,” Sunhee says encouragingly.

I jump at the sound of her voice, then turn to realize that all eight Girls Forever girls are lingering in the hallway, waiting to see what DB’s answer will be. Besides Mina’s solo stint on Let’s Go Camping!, none of us has really done any kind of solo promotion or event. While some of the girls, like Sun, are clearly rooting for me, I can tell others are torn between hoping he’ll say no, because they’re jealous of the trip, and hoping he’ll say yes, because of what it could mean for them going forward.

Then, the doors open, and various DB execs stream out. We bow as they pass, but they’re so deep in conversation that they don’t notice us.

“… would be an amazing opportunity,” one of the execs, Ms. Shim, is saying.

“Mm-hmm,” another one, Mr. Lim, says. “It’s not every day you get interest from Vogue.”

I pause. Did I hear Vogue? I’m dying to know what they’re talking about, but my moment has come. The conference room is now empty except for Mr. Noh sitting at the head of the mahogany table, reviewing some documents in a sleek leather folder, as Mr. Han looks over his shoulder and jots down notes on a pad.

I smooth my ponytail and do a quick check for BO, then knock on the open door. “Excuse me, Mr. Noh.”