Idol Prize (Idol Romance #4)

Chapter 1

“You’ll never make it out alive....”

Andy Kim fought to keep from rolling his eyes as his mom belted out the chorus to the title track from Casey Danger’s latest album, One Woman Show.

He could never in a million years understand how someone like Grace Kim had become a country music fan.

He’d grown up in Sacramento, too–born and raised just like her–but had somehow avoided that particularly gruesome fate.

He’d take a sick, saucy dance beat over reedy vocals and a twangy, steel guitar any fucking day.

At least she didn’t seem to mind his music.

That would’ve made most of the last decade pretty unbearable.

Still, if she’d had her way, he’d most likely be headed for a flight to Nashville instead of Seoul.

He chuckled at a sudden vision of a wardrobe filled with giant cowboy hats and shiny belt buckles.

“Does my singing really bother you that much?”

Andy glanced at his mom, her manicured hands loosely gripping the wheel as she bobbed her head to the beat of Casey’s song on the radio.

Most people said he looked more like her than his dad, but he wasn’t so sure.

He definitely had her sharp eyes and even sharper cheekbones, but his slightly wide nose, thick lips, and strong jaw were all from his dad.

“Nah. I was just thinking about belt buckles.”

His mom chuckled. “Should I even ask?”

“Better not to, I think.”

Underneath the song, the rhythmic thump-thump of the freeway divider markers was a metronome counting down the final minutes of Andy’s old life.

Each beat against the tires of his mom’s car pushed him that much closer to a future he’d spent almost half his life bleeding for.

Or closer to the end of the line, if his dad’s dire predictions ultimately came true.

Because that was the moment he was about to face.

Years of auditions and training, training, training, all for a singular goal.

Success, or the end of the road. No pressure, right?

He swallowed an anxious sigh as he stared out the window, the familiar, sun-bleached landscape of the freeway, the flat expanse of farmland, and the bland suburban sprawl feeling smaller than it ever had before.

“Do you have everything you need for the flight, honey? I’ve got some extra cash in my purse.”

Andy turned from the window to look at his mom. Her lipstick? Perfect. Her expression? Composed. But there was no amount of lip liner that could cover up her maternal worry, practically seated in the car with them like an unwelcome third passenger. At least they could use the HOV lane, right?

“It’s the twenty-first century, Mom. They don’t take cash on planes anymore.”

Andy’s mom tore her gaze from the road just long enough to roll her eyes at him. “Everywhere takes cash, sweetie. What about your passport? You double-checked, right?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And your ticket?”

“On my phone.” Andy offered a small, reassuring smile that wasn’t quite a lie.

His anxiety simmered just below the surface, a low-grade hum beneath his skin that had been a constant companion for the past month.

Just like four years ago, when his mom had taken him to Los Angeles for Kbr’s open call auditions.

He’d gone into that audition with the brash confidence of a kid who’d never truly failed at anything, sure that his precise choreography and stable vocals would be enough to secure him a trainee spot.

He almost shivered remembering the phantom chill of that sterile dance studio.

The way the three judges had stared at him with polite, bored disinterest before one of them offered a quick, toneless, “Thank you for your time.”

This time was different. This wasn’t an open call.

It was an invitation. Andy had gone through three rounds of virtual casting, followed up by another three interviews with the producers at SCG Entertainment before he finally got the call.

He’d been selected as a contestant for Dream Boy Project.

He was officially in. His last and only real shot.

“Sorry to be such a nag,” his mom added, her voice and frown softer now, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. “I just worry. You know? You’ll be so far away, doing God only knows what they’ll ask of you.”

“I know. I had a dream last night that they made me bleach my hair. I woke up in a cold sweat.”

Andy’s mom snorted, dismissing his attempt to lighten the mood. “I wish you’d take this more seriously. They’re flying you all the way to Seoul, Andy. You’ll be at their mercy the whole time you’re there. You know how they are.”

She didn’t need to explain who “they” were.

Andy’d heard the same lecture at least a thousand times, mostly from his dad and his older sister, Hannah.

Unstable. Frivolous. A gamble. A foolishness to be put aside.

But this was the one gamble he was excited to take.

He’d sacrificed college, a normal social life, and a steady income from teaching dance classes for this.

Thousands of hours spent in front of studio mirrors, his body aching and his voice raw, had all led to this car ride, to the looming green sign pointing them toward Sacramento International Airport. He was on his way to become an idol.

“I know, Mom,” Andy said, knowing that it wouldn’t help. “But everything will be fine. And I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know you do, honey.” Grace offered a sad, tight-lipped smile as she reached over to pat his arm. “You’ve always been good at that. You’ve never really needed anyone else.”

Andy immediately scoffed, jaw open, eyebrows to the sky. “I’m sorry. Are you trying to call me a loser?”

His mom blew out a long breath, not quite a sigh. “Of course not. I just meant that you’ve always been very self-sufficient.”

Andy quietly groaned. There it was again–that sideways jab, one of the old, familiar complaints.

Why don’t you have more friends, Andy? Why aren’t you dating anyone?

Why are you always alone? Yeah, it was true that his social life had all the vibrancy of a forgotten houseplant.

Sure, he’d traded keg stands for kettlebell squats and late-night talks for all-night dance rehearsals.

But he was hardly a loner. He had friends.

He’d gone on dates. He was just focused, even if she didn’t understand it. Not like his brother did, at least.

“You’re gonna blow them all away, bro,” Noah had told him as they said their goodbyes. “Seriously. You’re hella talented. I know you’re gonna win.”

A wistful little grin tugged at Andy’s lips. He was gonna miss his little brother. “Yeah, well I hope you remember how self-sufficient I am when you can’t decide what to wear to next month’s Regional Real Estate Awards banquet.”

His mom shrugged with almost saintly nonchalance. “I’ll just wear what I wore last year.”

“What?” Andy scoffed again, playfully this time. “You’d better not.”

Andy’s mom chuckled. “I’m kidding. Besides, you’re the one that’ll be on TV, not me.”

Andy’s grin grew into a wistful smile. He was gonna miss her, too. “You have the number to call in case you need to reach me, right?”

“I do.” His mom mirrored his sad smile as she signaled for the airport exit. “I still can’t believe they’re taking your phone.”

“They gotta prevent leaks somehow. Can’t have anyone posting spoilers about who cries first during vocal practice. It’ll probably be me, by the way.”

His mom quietly chuckled, reaching over to give his arm another pat. “It had better not be. Your father and I would have to disown you.”

Andy’s phone buzzed in his lap, drawing his gaze as a message notification popped up.

Noah, asking him to call ASAP. What could he want?

They’d already talked at length the night before, with plenty of yelling and tears as the realization that he might not be coming back finally hit home.

Maybe he’d forgotten something? Hopefully nothing important, since it was way too late to go back.

Andy swiped the notification away for the moment and started running through his mental checklist one more time before swiping away that train of thought, too. He was ready or he wasn’t. There was no going back for anything. It was all going forward from there.

Andy focused on the sparse, late morning airport traffic, the organized chaos fluttering around them as they pulled up to the curb outside the Departures entrance.

For a second, he felt a strange, detached calm, as if he were watching a movie about someone else’s life.

Then his mom was out of the car, tugging his two oversized suitcases from the trunk—the ones he’d meticulously packed and repacked a dozen times, organizing his life for the next few months. Hopefully longer.

His mom’s eyes already glistened with fresh tears as Andy joined her, dragging his suitcases over the curb.

She quickly wrapped her arms around him in a tight, fierce hug filled with all the worried things she’d left unsaid.

He breathed in the clean scent of her perfume, a smell he’d forever associate with home.

“Call me the second you land in Seoul,” Andy’s mom whispered into his shoulder, her voice heavy with impending tears.

“Promise,” Andy choked out, his own throat suddenly tight.

His mom pulled back, hands gripping his arms, and gave him a final, tear-streaked smile. “We’re so proud of you, Andy.”

Andy frowned. “We?”

His mom rolled her eyes, shaking loose a fresh set of tears. “Don’t start. You know your father would be here too, if he could be.”

“Sure,” Andy replied, throwing a bit of side-eye at his mom’s maternal worries, still sitting in the backseat. “He’s only been working on that bridge for a year. We wouldn’t want to delay it for half a day so he could give his son a proper sendoff.

His mom huffed, lightly smacking Andy’s shoulder. “Stop that right now. You know how proud he is of you. How proud we both are. We love you and support you, no matter what happens.”

No matter what happens. A gurgle rose from the pit of Andy’s stomach as a quiet voice whispered in the back of his mind. If he lost, everything was over. The only thing they’d guaranteed him was a chance to compete. And the whole world would be watching.

“Love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too.”

Andy hoisted his carry-on, grabbed his suitcase handles, and walked toward the sliding glass doors without looking back. He couldn’t. If he looked back, the fragile armor he’d built around himself all morning would shatter. He’d need it for much longer than that.

Since he’d already checked in for his flight, Andy maneuvered through the crowds and found the kiosk to deposit his bags.

Then, after a quick bathroom stop to deal with all the coffee he’d drank before leaving, he found the line for the security gate.

It was long, already snaking out past the cordons.

But he’d gotten there plenty early. He had time.

Andy settled into his place in line just outside the Foggy Frog coffee shop and pulled out his phone to call Noah. His brother answered on the second ring.

“Oh, thank God, I caught you,” Noah said, breathless, skipping right past the greeting.

Andy frowned. “Is everything all right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Hold on.” Andy waited, listening to a pair of muffled voices in the background. “Sorry about that.”

Andy huffed. “If this is a bad time–”

“No, no, it’s my lunch period so I’m in the Buster Burger drive-thru.” Noah sighed. “Look. I know we already said everything last night and stuff, but I wanted to let you know that I’m serious about handling all the Andy Kim fanclub stuff.”

Andy rolled his eyes, unseen. “Noah, you know I love you, but the last thing I need is to worry about my little brother fucking around in my DMs while I’m half way around the world competing in the most important contest of my life.”

“That’s what I mean,” Noah insisted. “This is hella important, Andy. You can’t just go dark online. You need someone keeping your socials alive. You know that can impact your votes, right?”

Andy shuffled forward as the line moved, swallowing the sudden pang of irritation that came from his brother being right, yet again. “Yeah.”

“Good. You just need to grant me manager access to your accounts and I can–”

“But I’m serious about my DMs,” Andy cut in. “The last thing in the world I need is for you to end up on K-star Daily cuz you’re talking hella shit with someone else’s fans.”

“Hey!” Noah complained. “That was one time. And you promised to never bring it up again.”

“No, you asked me to promise, but I did no such thing.” Andy’s sadness still hovered under the surface, mingling with his anxiety, threatening to burst out right there in the middle of the airport if he wasn’t careful.

“Look, I’m in line for security right now, so I should probably get off the phone.

I’ll grant you access to my accounts once I’m on the plane. Okay?”

Noah sighed. “Okay, okay. And you’d better call me on your break or whatever. I want all the insider details before the public gets them.”

“Noah!” Andy called out, earning him a clucked tongue from the older woman standing in line ahead of him.

“Fine. But I want something. After all, I am the president of the official Andy Kim fan club.”

Andy barked out a sharp laugh, getting an angry glare from the older woman in return. “One day, and all that power’s already going to your head.”

Noah snorted. “I’m being serious. I’ve already got Donte and Dominic set as vice president and treasurer.”

Donte and Dominic, the twin brother assistants who were taking over his dance classes? Andy could only imagine what his brother had promised them to participate in his madness. Then again, every vote counted. Especially since he wasn’t playing with a home field advantage.

“Okay, fine Mr. President. I’ll get you something.”

“Hell yeah! Thanks, bro. Love you!”

“Love you, too, Noah.”

By the time Andy reached the security checkpoint, he had his feelings mostly under control again.

He had too much excitement bubbling inside to let a little sadness bring him down.

The days of Andy Kim, dance instructor from Sacramento, were almost over.

Pretty soon, he was gonna be Andy Kim, K-pop idol.

“Boarding pass and ID, please,” droned the bored-looking security agent.

Andy handed over his passport and pointed his phone screen her way, waiting as the agent glanced at each before fixing him with a sudden, attentive gaze.

“Seoul, eh? Heading home?”

Andy tried not to frown as the agent handed back his very American passport. “No, Sac is home. Seoul is work. I’m gonna be an idol.”

A single, over-plucked eyebrow floated up as the agent slowly nodded. “Sure you are, kid. Have a nice flight.”