They’re posing this to me like it’s a choice, but obviously I’m not going to choose to leave the group. I’ve been doing K-pop since I was recruited at eleven. I would be nothing without this, without them. Besides, it’s like I said: Girl groups are like a Jenga puzzle. If I left, it would spell bad news for the rest of them, and I don’t want that, either. Mina’s always saying that if one of us messes up, it reflects badly on the whole group. Well, my quitting the group or quitting my fashion line a month after it launched—would definitely make the group look bad. We may be the agency’s shining star right now, but if Girls Forever started to slip in popularity, or became too marred with drama, DB wouldn’t hesitate to shut the group down. Are the girls really willing to take that risk by making me choose?

“Look, I need some time to think about this,” I say.

Lizzie starts to retort, but Mina cuts her off. “Fine. Get back to us once you’ve had a chance to figure out your priorities,” Mina says.

Priorities.

There’s that word again.

TWENTY-THREE

“Holy crap, Rachel.”

“Leah!” I scream, dropping my highlighter brush as I swivel around. “You scared me!” She’s leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom. It’s six a.m. and I thought I’d be out of the house before she even woke up. My flight to Switzerland leaves early.

“No, you’re scaring me. I just wanted to say goodbye and wish you luck before the big shoot, but you’re acting so jumpy these days. What’s going on?”

I shrug, going back to my makeup. “It’s nothing. We’ve just been working nonstop. We’re in the doghouse with DB because of this new dance number we keep botching,” I remind her. “They basically threatened to pull the LA show if we don’t shape up. We have to be on top of our game—now more than ever, with, you know, everything that’s gone on.”

She nods sympathetically, then comes to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. “Yeah, that’s rough. But Unni, no offense, you look like you’ve been hit by a double-decker tourist bus. Are you even sleeping?”

I snort at her alarming specificity. “Gee thanks, Leah.”

She laughs. “I just mean I’m worried about you. Be honest. Are you really okay? Are you sure there’s not anything else you’re not telling me?”