Chapter 8
THE NEWS OF OUR DATE brEAKS OUT THAT NIGHT, rapidly circulating in international gossip websites.
All the entertainment sites are full of “exclusive, witness-taken” photos and videos of Bryan and me at the amusement park.
Some people already posted their own pictures and videos on social media way before any official outlet stories broke, so there are clips of us on Twitter, Instagram, and even TikTok already going viral.
The most popular clips are of Bryan freaking out on the roller coaster—that becomes an instant meme—and of Bryan running from the fans with Theodore on his back.
But there are admittedly cute and wholesome pictures of us together trending from our date as well, like Bryan and me looking at each other on the merry-go-round.
As I flip through the articles and posts, I’m amazed by how real our date seems, even though I know more than anyone else that everything was just pretend.
The netizens’ reactions are mixed, even more so among the Brybabies.
Some say that we’re a “match made in heaven” and are “fated to be together.” But for every person who loves us as a couple, there are just as many who are mad about Bryan dating me.
Someone even starts a hashtag on Twitter that says #HowCouldYouBryan and people list their grievances about how Bryan betrayed them by dating me instead of committing himself to his fans.
I thought K-pop stars weren’t allowed to date???? tweets one angry fan. What is going on with Bryan’s management company? #HowCouldYouBryan
I cringe upon reading that comment because I know Bryan and many other K-pop stars aren’t technically allowed to formally get into a relationship.
.. of their own choice. It’s a sadly common rule in the industry, and I know a lot of people from my school who sneak around and keep their relationships a secret because of it.
But even worse is the hatred that people have toward me.
“Who even is Jin Hana, anyway?” one European fan asks in an angry YouTube clip. “Isn’t she some nobody from America? I know she’s costarring in that K-drama with him, but really? Our Bryan deserves better. She isn’t even that pretty!”
The comments on that video are, as they usually are, a lot worse.
Yeah, she should just go die , says one of them.
Die and leave our Bryan alone!!!
JUST DIE!!!
I always heard about people telling celebrities to go die, but this is the first time I’ve had such anger directed toward me.
These people don’t even know who I am. Not really, anyway.
If they were reacting like this because they hated my acting, I’d at least know how to react.
But they’re being like this because of who I’m supposedly dating and not because of who I am.
.. so it all just feels very disturbing.
It also bothers the heck out of me how I’m the one getting the “go die” comments when it’s Bryan that everyone’s disappointed in.
Why should I get the brunt of their attacks when most of Bryan’s fans don’t even know who I am?
Infuriatingly enough, most of this hate is coming from other girls.
All of this is so incredibly sexist and misogynistic that I want to scream.
After emotionally eating an unhealthy amount of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, I get so caught up in reading through online reactions that I end up not falling asleep until four a.m. I snooze through my alarm and jolt awake at the sound of my phone ringing, my fingers still covered in red Cheetos dust.
“Hana, where are you?” Sophia asks when I pick up. “Do you know what time it is? Director Cha is furious !”
Of course I’d be late on the one day this week she’s visiting me on set. In a whirlwind of panic, I hang up the phone, send a quick text to Sophia telling her I’m on my way, and throw myself into the shower.
When I finally stumble onto set an hour later, Sophia raises her eyebrows at me.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “Rough night.”
“I saw.” Even without me having to explain, her tone’s much softer than I thought it would be.
“I’ve read so many death threats and curses directed toward me that some part of me is wondering how I’m still alive.”
Sophia sighs. “Well, just look at it this way. The show just needs their attention, not their approval. I haven’t heard any negative feedback from the studio so far, so I think things are still going according to plan.
And I can guarantee you that some people will start watching Fated Destiny now just out of morbid curiosity about your relationship with Bryan.
Even hate watches are viewership numbers at the end of the day. ”
Sophia’s right on all counts, but I can’t shake off how disoriented I feel. My brain’s still trying to process how so many people can hate me when they don’t know a single thing about who I am.
“Plus,” Sophia continues, “it’s a good thing your relationship with Bryan isn’t real. All this hate would feel a lot worse if it were. But since it isn’t, consider all of this as part of the job and don’t take any of it personally.”
“But what about the death threats? I can’t just ignore all those comments.”
“Unfortunately, ‘go die’ is a pretty common Korean insult. If they become severe or if someone posts defaming content, we will report them to the police. Korea has an anti-defamation law that can punish people if they spread rumors or reveal information that is harmful to you and your reputation, but unfortunately there’s no specific law against generic comments. ”
This doesn’t sit well with me, but there’s really nothing I can do. In the end, I deal with it like how I deal with everything else: I push it down deep inside me and focus on being Sora, my character, and not Hana Jin.
Later that night, I’m reviewing the script for the next episode we’re going to shoot when I get a KakaoTalk notification. I expect it to be my parents, or even Bryan. But instead, it’s Minjee.
When I see her name pop up on my screen, I do a double take. Why would Minjee be texting me now after all this time? Since KakaoTalk tells people when you’ve seen their messages, I scrutinize the message notification instead of swiping into the app.
Hey, I heard about everything going on with you...
Unfortunately, the notification cuts off her message there.
Heard about what? I wonder. Finally giving in to my curiosity, I swipe to read the full message.
Hey, I heard about everything going on with you and Bryan , it says in English. And I saw all the comments. Hope you’re doing okay. Always here to talk if you need.
Compared to how wild and ecstatic our conversations were back when we used to talk regularly, Minjee’s newest message seems cold and impersonal. But even so, I can’t help but be touched that she’s reaching out all the same.
My desperation for a sympathetic ear cuts through all pretenses of keeping things professional.
Hey, thanks for reaching out , I reply in Korean. Minjee’s English is amazing compared to the fact that she’s lived in Seoul her whole life, but I know Korean is still easier for her. Honestly, I’ve really been struggling. But I’m hoping it’ll all blow over soon. How have you been?
I don’t expect a response anytime soon, but before I can even put my phone down, it starts ringing with an incoming video call.
Oh crap! I jump out of bed, panicking for a split second before I remember that I can just not accept the call. I do want to talk to Minjee, though, if only to catch up with her. So, I quickly tie my hair into a low, loose bun and throw a knit sweater over my tank top.
When I video call her back, Minjee picks up almost right away. She’s in her pink silk pajamas with her hair up in curlers. She’s still as pretty as always, with her soft lips and large, doe-like eyes.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Long time no see.”
“Hi,” she replies with a small, cautious smile. “Yeah, it’s good to see you. Just wanted to check in face-to-face. You look tired, but your skin is somehow still amazing, as usual.”
It’s a long-running joke between Minjee and me that despite the fact that she’s the one with a twelve-step Korean skin-care regime, I still have better skin out of the two of us. Thank you, genetics.
I laugh. “I appreciate you calling like this. Means a lot.”
“No problem. People online can be the worst when they’re hiding behind their avatars and usernames. It’s also totally unfair how everyone’s attacking you when Bryan’s the one who broke their hearts.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking! And it sucks because most of the hatred I’m getting is from other girls .”
Minjee lets out a sympathetic groan. “Internalized misogyny is the worst.”
There’s a moment of awkward silence between us before she continues, “But you’ve been doing really well on the show. I’ve been watching every episode. You’re doing a lot better as Sora than I could have ever done.”
“Oh, come on,” I say. “I’m sure your audition was great, too.”
Minjee gives me a mischievous grin. “Hey, I never said I wasn’t great. You’re just the better Sora.”
After months of having to navigate through on-set politics and now the fake-dating lies, Minjee’s honesty is refreshing.
I laugh, and just like that, it’s like we never stopped talking to each other.
I tell her about random, awkward moments on set, like when I accidentally walked in on Bryan changing and when I caught Director Cha snoring in his chair between takes.
She yells, “No!” and giggles along with my stories, and I’m happy just to be talking with Minjee again.
“So how have you been?” I ask.
“Oh, you know. Modeling for some ads, auditioning for shows, trying to keep up with homework, the usual.”
“How’s everyone at school?”
“Pretty much the same. I have to admit, though, school’s pretty boring without you. I miss my all-time nemesis.”
She says the last bit with a quirky grin, and I don’t need a mirror to know I’m smiling at her, too. “What, none of the other girls are at my level?”
“Nope. I wish they were more of a competition like you were. But, eh, it’s fine. It’s great to see you on the show. And on entertainment headlines! Congrats on the new relationship, by the way. Hope it works out, both off-screen and on-screen.”
She says it so genuinely, with no malice at all—because despite our rivalry, that’s the kind of friend Minjee really is. Utterly supportive.
But instead of making me feel great, Minjee’s words make my stomach plummet to the ground like I’m on the roller coaster again.
I’ve never kept anything big from Minjee before, and even though it’s been months since we’ve freely talked like this, I desperately wish I could tell her that my relationship with Bryan is fake.
But, of course, I can’t. I try my best to not let the smile fall from my face as I say, “Thanks.”
Minjee and I end up talking for almost the entire night, with her catching me up on all sorts of random things like how one of our old drama teachers is now on maternity leave and how a new cute café opened up a block away from our school.
“We should go sometime when you’re attending classes in person again!” Minjee says. “Remember that amazing mango shaved ice we had in Ikseon-dong? They have desserts like that!”
“Oh God, yes! It practically melted in my mouth!”
Minjee and I had a tradition where we’d go out for desserts whenever we got our audition results for school plays. The person who got the role would always pay, sweetening the loss for the loser.
“You were such a good éponine, by the way,” I add. “I wasn’t even sad that I lost that one.”
“Thanks! And you were a good Cosette.”
“Eh, she wasn’t my top choice, but I did try my best!”
By the time Minjee and I finish talking, my hands are sweaty from holding my phone, my throat is sore, and my upstairs neighbors are stomping around again. But despite all this, I fall asleep instantly with a smile still on my lips.