Pop star dating sim cheats

12-Oct-2019 19:02

There were about seven girls and every one off them was glaring at me with a twisted expression on her face, screaming at the top of her lungs and thrusting her fingers in my face, and they formed a semi-circle that slowly backed me up against the nearest wall. The screaming was so shrill and animal-like that I clamped my hands to my ears as I stared into all those faces, and then, just as abruptly, they all switched off, became normal again, and walked away, chatting calmly to each other, laughing gaily, as though nothing had just occurred. She was sitting in a corner of the playground, reading Ce Ci, a popular gossip magazine, and instantly I recognized the guy on the cover.‘Who’s that? Song looked at me like she thought I was having her on. He was the lead singer for a five-boy group called Junior 17, that had literally taken the charts by storm in the last three years. I’d had coffee with a living idol and I seriously regretted not taking a selca (selfie) with him. ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘sure.’What the hell did he want to meet up with me for?I pretty much forgot about him after that, so I was pretty surprised when I got a call from Park a few days later. I was a nobody.‘You didn’t tell me you were a celebrity,’ I said as I slipped into the corner booth opposite him later that afternoon.

Mom met me at the door when I got home which was unusual. ‘I swear to God, mom, I didn’t even know this guy was famous, I met him a few times for coffee – that’s it - nothing went on between us….’‘I believe you,’ she sighed.‘Everybody hates me,’ I said morosely.‘Don’t worry, it’ll pass – the school wants you to take a week off – maybe that’s a good idea – give this whole thing time to blow over.’The online hate had become a deluge, the insults thick as flies. I tried to move to a quieter spot on the bus but people were pushing and shoving me, and everyone looking at me with such hatred that I started to get really freaked out. Suddenly everyone took out this Park mask and placed it over their faces. Everyone on the bus was wearing a Park mask and glaring at me. I kept asking them to forgive me like I’d something wrong but they just kept glaring at me, and then the bus pulled into a stop and I swear to Christ I’m not exaggerating, but every single person got off the bus at that stop. The next moment I was alone and the bus was pulling away from the curb.

He stooped a lot - the way tall people do when they’re trying to look less noticeable.

He recommended that I not use fish with my kimchi-jjigae.

‘I’m a honhyeol,’ I said, referring to the fact I was mixed race. ‘That’s your hang-up, not mine,’ he said, ‘listen, I just want to chat, everyone I meet treats me like I’m this demi-god, you’re the first person to treat me like….’‘…like you’re nothing special? The more I got to know Park the more he reminded me of a wounded animal, caught in a trap and ready to chew his own leg off if it meant being free. The kind of fan that stalked you, harassed you, assaulted you, and murdered you if you ever fell short of their expectations.‘Is that why you don’t want to be seen with me?

’‘Like I’m a human being.’‘Yeah, well, I didn’t know who you were the other day.’‘Believe me, you still don’t know who I am.’I stared at him. But I couldn’t deny how hard he must have worked to reach that level of perfection. He was obsessively careful about being recognized, always kept his head lowered, his hood pulled down so the only part of his face you could see was his jaw. He told me that being a teen idol was nothing like they made it out to be. ’ I asked.‘I want to be seen with you,’ he said bitterly, ‘but since when did anything I wanted ever count for shit?I still couldn’t get over how good-looking he was, his features were chiselled to perfection, his gorgeous eyes moving in and out of the shadow of his hood. And we’d meet in small, quiet places, in cafes and art galleries and local museums. Everyone assumed it was so glamorous but underneath the glitz, beneath all the polish, there was this twenty-four-hour machine churning out carbon copies of the same act over and over, and no matter how special they made you feel, sooner or later you realized you didn’t matter at all. ’ he frowned, ‘besides, there’s a clause in my contract,’ he went on, ‘I only date who the agency tells me to date.’‘Are you serious?

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