Our voices braid together seamlessly, filling up the living room. Damn. We sound good. Not just good, but great. We stare at each other. Mina is good at this. And by the way she’s looking at me, I know she’s thinking the same about me.

“Okay then.” She abruptly hops off the couch, breaking the moment. “So you’ll stop worrying so much about nothing, then? At least you have one good song for your duo album now.”

“Yeah,” I say. She’s trying to look aloof, but I can see the smile playing on her lips. I give her a full grin. “I guess I do.”

“Did you hear about what happened to Hemy from Butterscotch?”

Lizzie twists her body to look back at us from her seat in the van’s first row, eager to share whatever gossip she just learned from one of her many sources. It’s a few days later, and we’re on our way back home after a full day of music-video shooting. Sunhee and Youngeun are fast asleep on either side of me, exhausted from the shoot, but all the other girls lean forward in their seats to listen to Lizzie spill the tea. The van lurches over a bump in the road, and Sunhee’s head lolls onto my shoulder. I tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“Apparently, there’s a serial fanboy who’s been sending gifts to his favorite idols, and he just sent Hemy something very interesting,” Lizzie says, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that suggests that “interesting” really means weird as hell. “Any guesses?”

“Used underwear,” Ari says immediately.

“Ari!” Sumin groans. “You’re gross.”

“What? It happened to Jinny from CandYYou, remember?” Ari says.

“That was never proven,” I say. Ninety-nine percent of K-pop fans are amazing, but still, every once in a while, you hear some crazy rumor about a fan who went too far.

“Was it couple rings?” Eunji guesses.

“A condom,” Mina says.

“Nope,” Lizzie says. “He sent her a portrait of herself. Made entirely from chewed gum.”

Everyone screeches.

“Why the hell would anyone want that?” Jiyoon says.

“Better question is, how did that slip through the screening system?” Eunji asks, making a face. “You’d think someone would have caught that before it got to her.”

“Well, our managers were going to deliver our fan mail today,” Mina says. “If anyone gets a gum portrait, I dare them to take a piece off and eat it.”

The girls screech again.

As soon as we get home (and coax a groggy Sunhee and Youngeun out of the van), we find a huge pile of fan mail stacked up in the living room, brought over from DB by our managers. Everything looks safe enough: letters, cards, fan art, small trinkets like key chains and handmade jewelry, and a few flower bouquets for Youngeun, whose birthday was last month.