Lizzie blinks at me. “You know what it’s like?” I nod slowly. “Funny,” she says, “I thought you got to spend fourteen hours a day with your sister every week filming a reality show.” Shit. She’s right. I start to double back, to agree with her and acknowledge how lucky Leah and I are, when Lizzie continues, “Or go back even further. I thought you were the one who got to live at home with your sister, instead of moving into the trainee house and hardly ever getting to see her.”

She’s right again, although I can’t believe she’d hold a grudge from way back in our trainee days. I feel my cheeks redden, ashamed that I’ve taken for granted what precious time I do get to spend with Leah on a regular basis lately. I thought Lizzie and I had common ground here, but in reality, I’m in a much more fortunate position than she is.

I open my mouth to apologize, to better articulate the sympathy I feel for Lizzie’s situation, but Lizzie just snaps “Are we done?” at the seamstress, who nods and lets her walk away.

“Her parents are splitting up,” Sumin says, coming to stand beside me in an orange sequined dress. “Apparently, it’s been really rough on her sister.”

My head whips around to where Lizzie is now sitting on the couch with Eunji. I had no idea. Why didn’t she just tell me? I think back to all the times over the past month when I’ve come home chattering on obliviously about the shoot with Leah, about how excited my parents are for the show to start airing. I feel like a total jerk.

“Just give her some space, she’ll be fine,” Sumin says.

I’m dying to go over to Lizzie and apologize, but I try to heed Sumin’s advice. Maybe she does just need some space.

Just then, Youngeun calls out from one of the makeup chairs, where she’s been flipping through a magazine. “Hey, look at this.” She flips the magazine around to show the rest of us. “Entertainment Daily did a fan poll, and Girls Forever got eighty-six percent of the vote.” We all gather around the magazine to take a look for ourselves.

“Eighty-six?” Sunhee says with a frown. “That’s not even a B+.”

“It’s not like a test score, baboya,” Mina says, rolling her eyes and grabbing the magazine from Youngeun. “There were over twenty girl groups to choose from. The second-place group only got nine percent of the vote—”

“Ha! Sucks to suck, Butterscotch,” Jiyoon interjects, looking over Mina’s shoulder.

“—and everyone else got less than one percent. We dominated,” Mina finishes smugly, before handing the magazine off to me.