Lost In Seoul – My Summer In Seoul Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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I’m feeling more anxious than usual. Maybe it’s because I know my own past. I know it. And I know the risk. Tears threaten. I hate them. I hate it.

I look up into the stands and find Rae all alone, holding up a sign that says GO SOOKIE. It’s almost funny. Nobody recognizes him, all they know is that he’s an idol trainee just like me, part of a group that may not ever even make it.

I get up out of the uncomfortable seat and start walking toward Rae. Before I take five steps a foot pops out and trips me, causing me to fall to the ground. My knees hit so hard that you can hear the bone bruising against the floor.

“Sorry.” Baek-Hyun’s smile is anything but sorry, he’s with his bully friends, all of them are smirking down at me. He cocks a brow and tilts his head to the side and smirks. “I slipped.”

I wish I could slip and punch him in the face. Just seeing the surprised look would be worth all the trouble I’d get in.

But no, I swallow the urge to beat the crap out of him and play my dutiful role.

“Yeah.” I get up and straighten my tie. I hate that it’s faded and doesn’t look expensive or flashy. I hate that I have to stick out like this too.

This tie is the only one I have with my uniform, while other students have multiples.

I’m aware my uniform looks like shit, I grew two inches last year so my socks are showing, and everything is worn to the absolute extreme. My parents have invested everything in my dream, and I still feel sick with guilt from it, considering I rejected every other suggestion they had for my future career. And now, after years of working hard, losing sleep, not eating enough, and a few mental breakdowns in between—I have nothing to show for it. I can only hope that when we debut, people take us seriously.

Truthfully?

That’s my biggest fear: being on stage and completely losing my shit—and keeping my shit together totally depends on the audience’s reaction. Yeah, I know all the gurus tell you you’re not supposed to care what people think—but my whole dream in life depends on it. If people don’t clap or of if they stare at us like we’re amateurs and have no clue what we’re doing, that will crush me. Kill my soul… and I don’t know if I could ever recover from it. Maybe it’s because I’m the youngest in the group, along with being the main vocalist, but the pressure is immense.

Which brings me back to the asshole Baek-Hyun, he found me one day in a bathroom stall having a panic attack after our CEO said if we can’t take it, we need to give up. The whole band had come down with the flu, but he didn’t care.

I puked five times, crashed at midnight and had to get up at five for choreography before school at seven. It was one of those moments I’ll never forget—like the kind you reflect on when you finally make it. Baek-Hyun was such a dick to me and made sure the whole school found out that I was having a moment.

Did I want to beat the crap out of him?

Yes.

Do I want to now?

Yes.

But… I’m not allowed. Until we make it, I have to eat the proverbial shit sandwich that I’ve been given.

So I just clock the asshole with my eyes and walk past everyone. I walk past the whispers and the weird stares and before I know it, I’m jogging toward the door. I push against it and pace down the hall, not paying attention to where I’m going. Everything smells like cleaner, the desks are all in perfect alignment, the chairs, the lockers, everything looks so fucking perfect and I want to ruin it all.

Because that’s not my reality.

It’s not any of our reality and yet we smile, we go through graduation, we pay for lessons, we fight for our dreams, but what do we ever have to show for it?

Math?

Screw math.

I pull my phone out of my pocket then put it right back. I’ll text Rae later otherwise he’ll worry since he’s like a big brother to me. I just need a minute.

One minute for me.

Not for school.

Worrying.

The group.

Just me.

I need to breathe. I need to stop my mind from racing. And I need to do it without people watching me and making all the assumptions they do… He’s this innocent young thing. He can’t cuss.

He’s so fragile…

That kills me more than anything. It destroys my ego. My manhood. Everything that I am on the inside. I’m the furthest thing from fragile, but I could never show it—which brings me to my almost constant state of being.


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