I. Looks Like an Idol (Bada POV)

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"Which studio do I have?"

"They're still wapping up in the main one. You can use B," Hulk says as he finishes swiping right on his phone. At the sight of her expression, he retorts, "What? I have to get out there."

Bada shrugs. "Not my business."

"You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."

"Okay, stop!" she teases. "They're still finishing? Didn't the workshop end a while ago?"

"I think people are still talking to him."

Bada nods. "Thanks."

So it was a success. The Academy had been abuzz that week in anticipation of a pop-up workshop from a hot new talent from Cheonan. There were rumors he'd soon become the newest addition to the core Just Jerk Crew. While the extended Jerk family had grew to over twenty, the core crew was just six male members, many of whom had been friends since childhood. It was rare for an outsider to be invited in, which was why there was such a commotion. Some said he already had a private audition, some said he was personally invited by Young-J.

She walks down the familiar narrow hall of the Just Jerk basement studio, the wall to wall of golden lights giving an ambience of a stage entrance. It's the same one she traipsed for the past four years since she started teaching here. The AC must've been acting up again, as she could feel lingering body heat emanating from the studio.

Two girls rush out of the main studio, clinging to each other in glee.

"He's so cute!"

"Seriously, he could be an idol."

"Ohmygawd, did you see his abs when he did that move?"

As they passed, the girls look up at her in shock. Bada smiles politely; she's used to it. As a 5'9'' female with broad shoulders in baggy clothes, she carves a striking figure. People often stared.

"Wait, is that Bada Lee? She's even taller in person," she hears a voice trail behind her.

"I know, right? Jealousss."

As she passes by the main room, she stops to glimpse inside. There are still a dozen students at least, encircled near the mirror; all heads are fixated at a guy in a black Fedora and matching cargo pants. He is talking animatedly, his hands conveying as much as his words. Even from a distance, she can make out his sharp cheekbones and eye smile.

He does look an idol. He looks over suddenly, as if reading her mind. Startled, she looks away and quickly proceeds down the hall.

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