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Coy intern who’d beguiled a celebrity.

Scheming journalist who’d seduced an idol for career advancement.

Crazed fan who only became a journalist to stalk her bias.

So many different versions of me, and few of them were positive.

In a way, there was a perverse comfort to see how none of these stories reflected who I actually was. I was still me, no matter what angle they viewed me from.

But, as with everything, not all of the narrative was concerned with me. In fact, for all of the posts about me, there were dozens more about Jihoon, and most seemed to be the age-old concern about how the fans would receive him – or indeed any of the members – being in an actual relationship. And what I saw both surprised me, but also didn’t.

Overwhelmingly, the comments were defending him and his right to be in a relationship.

My eyes flicked over the comments, growing increasingly more emotional as I saw people going to bat for him.

‘He is a fully grown man.’

‘They deserve to be happy.’

‘I hope all the members are in happy, healthy relationships.’

‘They don’t owe us their personal lives.’

‘As long as they keep putting out music, why the fuck would I care who they date?’

All of these comments had thousands of positive reactions, and there were hundreds more just like it.

But for as many positive comments, there were some truly vile ones I could barely bring myself to read, and after a while, my eyes skimmed them, taking in the gist but not the full sentence. It felt like I was trying to build up a tolerance to poison by ingesting small amounts of it, gradually.

There were so many comments demanding he be removed from GVibes. So many photos of people ripping up his photo cards, or throwing his Viblet plushie, Sealy, into the trash. That one hurt. I had that exact plushie.

There were dozens, and dozens of videos people had edited, where he’d denied dating rumours, laughed off the accusations, accusing him of being a liar.

Many weren’t claiming to be fans of his, or GVibes. Many were simply revelling in the chaos.

I closed my laptop. There was nothing else I needed to see. Whatever answers I needed, I wasn’t going to get them on social media.

The day before the first concert, GVibes had been invited to tour a school for musical therapy that they’d helped to fundraise for. I was lounging around the hotel when I received an email from Director Kang, ordering me back to Seoul, immediately. It was phrased as a request for an urgent meeting, but an order in any other wording was still an order.

I received my travel information an hour later.

Jihoon was grinning when he opened the door, crossing the room to pull me into his arms, as he had done every day since we’d gotten here, as if he hadn’t seen me in months.

I slid my hands up his strong arms to wind around his neck as he pulled me in for a kiss. When we broke away, and he’d set me back down on the floor, I steeled myself.

“I have to leave.”

His face faltered for a moment, frowning in the way a person does when they weren’t sure if they’d heard you correctly.

“I have to go back to Seoul. ENT wants to see me.”

I didn’t bother saying what for. We both knew it could only be one thing, and it wasn’t likely to give me a pat on the back for my excellent articles.

“When?” he asked in a dangerously even tone.

“Today. The meeting is tomorrow morning.”

“Today?” He erupted. “The concerts start tomorrow, how can they ask you to leave now?”