Popped Too

By Chinggay Labrador

Destination: Seoul, Korea *where dreams come true*

Purpose of Travel: Protect BFF from Fan Woman who wants to destroy all competition for the biggest K-Hip-Hop band's lead vocalist (and maybe hang out with hot Korean guy who looks like K-Pop crush)

Travel Companions: Fellow K-Pop fangirls/BFFs

Seoul Wishlist:
• A total K-Pop makeover
• Violet potato latte fix (a heart swirl on top wouldn't hurt)
• An appearance at only the most happening club in Seoul
• Bumping into your K-Pop celebrity crush
• Buying an adorable Hello Kitty subway card
• Holding hands with the Korean boy you've hopelessly fallen head over heels for (and praying he likes you back)

Will the K-Pop fairy wave her sparkling wand and grant Andie and her friends their wishes as they adventure in the motherland? This time, the BFFs have no idea what to expect! But one thing’s for sure, they're met with K-Pop giddiness at every turn.

"It's rare when a sequel makes you squeal more than the original. But Popped Too does just that. The K-Pop madness and kilig in this book are pure indulgence!" —Candy Magazine

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chinggay Labrador
• Release date: May 6, 2023

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Play FLIRTS—with the triple letter score and the triple word score, that’ll give you sixty-three points. You’re so gonna win.

Trixie said, with all the authority of someone whose feelings, pride, and shame were all hanging on the line. There she was, my smarty-pants best friend, breathing down my neck, infuriating me with her tiny nuggets of Scrabble wisdom.

He’ll think I’m flirting with him, I whined, fingers frozen on the keyboard of my beat-up iPhone. I’m not doing it.

Of course you’re flirting with him, she said, giving me a look that clearly spelled how ridiculous she thought I was. "If you don’t do it, I will."

Trixie plopped herself down on a chair and edged closer and closer towards me, trying desperately to get her hands on my phone. She cracked her knuckles and positioned her hands just a few inches away from mine and smirked, ready to attack.

Don’t even, I said, threatening to slosh her with my coffee.

Trixie twisted her waist-length hair into a knot, and started laughing. She was never any good at suppressing the giggles—especially with me. She snorted ever so ungracefully, her black, plastic-rimmed glasses slipping down her nose further and further as her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

"I’m happy to be your current source of amusement—really," I said, half-sarcastic, half-sincere. It had only been a month since Trixie called it quits with Joon, her Korean ex-boyfriend—the one who famously permed his hair to impress her on their first date—and while all of us were tiptoeing around her feelings, careful not to bring up anything that might send her spinning out of denial and into heartbreak, she seemed fine. Happy, even.

Joon was in Manila taking care of renovations at the new Korean embassy when they first met; unfortunately, once the work was over, he was sent right back to Seoul and Trixie, not wanting to deal with a long-distance relationship, decided to nip things in the bud.

"I’m okay, okay?" she said. Trixie always had a penchant for downplaying whatever emotional hell she was currently going through. This breakup was no exception.

"And just because I’m not into the whole LDR thing doesn’t mean you can’t play cat-and-mouse with Mac over the Internet, she added. He’s in Korea, you’re in Manila—online Scrabble bridges the gap."

I can’t do it. I can’t play ‘FLIRTS’ with this guy. And what are you talking about ‘cat-and-mouse?’ I’m not playing cat-and-mouse, I protested. Mac’s not playing cat-and-mouse. No one’s playing cat-and-mouse. No one’s playing anything.

It was embarrassing, how unconvincing I sounded. It was like I was projectile vomiting all my embarrassment by spewing fake denials out of my mouth.

Let me explain.

I’d feel a whole lot better if I could tell you with a straight face that all this gut-wrenching, tummy-turning, Scrabble-flirting had something to do with my K-Pop crush—the same celebrity I’d spent the last couple of months running after. As far from reality as that may sound, I think that my mixing things up via online word games with him would have actually made more sense than what was really going on.

If putting myself out there meant knowing whether or not I had a future with Kim Ji Kyung (or KJK), then these near-death panic attacks of mine would be totally justified. I’d die a happy fangirl death knowing my heart was trampled on by my harmonica-playing, beatboxing, sexy, smoldering crush.

Sadly though, that wasn’t the case. My knees weren’t turning into jelly because I was playing online Scrabble with my OTKP (one true K-Pop pair). Besides, I doubt if he knew enough English to make it through one round, much less beat me to a pulp with sixty-three-point word scores.

Cutting to the chase—the truth is, my brain was turning into mush because of a guy-guy (cue: facepalm). You know, a real life person. Someone who didn’t beatbox, didn’t play the harmonica (at least I didn’t think he did...), and someone who never actually smoldered his way into my heart with his Zoolander Blue Steel poses, the way KJK did when I first saw him live in concert.

My lame attempt at flirting (slash declaration of love) was meant for Mac Park.

Trixie’s Korean ex-boyfriend’s friend, Mac Park, who had flown in from Seoul for a two-day visit a couple of months ago (fifty-seven days to be exact... yes, I counted). He hung out with my friends and me all through his forty-eight hours in Manila, sending me into a tailspin of totally baseless kilig. But as it turned out, we were just a pit stop in his travels, and his main destination was actually Cebu, where, as per Facebook, he had met up with a whole bunch of pretty girls who were probably just as charming, fun, adventurous, easygoing, and laid back as him—totally the opposite of panic-ridden me.

It sucks. Monkey nuts.

In a nutshell, my long-standing pursuit of my OTKP led me on many adventures, each one involving my three best friends—Trixie, Ms. Obsessive Compulsive smarty-pants who went so far as to learn to speak and write Korean just to get to know her K-Pop boys better (hey, her perseverance landed her an actual boyfriend, so I guess it paid off); Cesca, my laid back hipster pixie-like photographer friend, who started a Daniel Henney goose chase (fully supported by her rockstar boyfriend, who was always quick to admit how handsome Daniel Henney was—I know, so weird...); and Nica, my fierce fashion editor friend, who beneath all her makeup and glamour, hid a totally self-effacing passion for the leader of Korea’s hottest K-Hip-hop group, Movement.

In a short span of time, I had had to weather almost-but-not-quite bankruptcy, getting lost amid the subways of Tokyo pre-earthquake, making emergency stalking runs to the airport with my fangirl friends, getting broadcast on Korean national TV screaming our lungs out because Daniel Henney was a few feet away from us, and traveling all the way to Seoul hoping to catch a glimpse of KJK walking down Agpujeong.

You would think I would’ve learned a thing or two, right? Wrong. Despite all the travails of obsessing mind-body-and-Seoul over a K-Pop superstar, here I was, losing my mind over Scrabble.

I was fangirling over a normal guy.

And I know you probably think I’m stupid for getting all huffed up over word games. Don’t worry—I get it. Playing Scrabble with Mac shouldn’t be a big deal. But, I don’t know. I liked him so much he made me feel like a twelve-year-old crushing on a high school senior—totally inept, clueless, and forever bound to make a wrong move.

Maybe my ability to interact with guys was permanently affected by the fact that my ex-boyfriend had decided to marry the girl he dated right after me. Maybe my overdosing on K-Dramas, K-Pop, and all things K had totally ruined my aptitude for relating to real people (even if Mac was actually Korean). My brain knew for a fact that Mac was the steadiest guy ever, but that didn’t stop my stomach from getting all tied up in knots whenever he was around (even if it was just online).

The first time I’d talked to him on the phone—before we even met—was one of the easiest conversations I’d had with anyone. Even when I ran into him in Hongdae Park and had no idea it was him (I thought I was talking to a stranger), everything was easy breezy. And even if he only spent two nights in Manila that time, when we were together, everything was fun and comfortable and it all just felt like everything was falling into place.

When he left Manila, everything was going so well, I thought I would sail through the whole long- distance situation. We’d spent so much time together, I thought it was only a matter of time. I didn’t even feel bad about him leaving for Cebu because I was so certain we would coast along, no muss no fuss. Wrong again—because ever since Mac went back to Seoul, he’d only managed to chat me up twice. In three months. So not a good sign—especially for someone who’s pored over all two hundred fifty-four photos of him alongside the bikini battalion in Cebu. Self-esteem fail!

Needless to say, Mac Park’s departure had turned me into a panic-stricken, discombobulated mess. Not even a fifth round of The 1st Shop of Coffee Prince could calm me down—and that’s saying a lot.

And so, my beat up ego decided to soldier on with the only form of communication Mac seemed to respond to—online Scrabble on my iPhone. It’s true. Even if Mac hadn’t exactly been the chattiest long-distance friend, he at least kept up with our games like a pro and would leave me the occasional one-liner comment that I would, then, analyze to death.

Trixie herself had turned into a double entendre detective, reading meaning into every single message from Mac—whether it was him virtually high-fiving me for scoring eighty-two points with ‘ZYGOTE’ (Trixie: It means he can see you as the future mother of his children) or whether he was leaving me a message on Facebook saying that summer in Seoul was getting insanely hot (Trixie: That just means he wishes you were there ‘cause you’re so cool).

Compromise? Trixie asked, stirring me out of my inner self-help session.

What do you have in mind this time? I asked suspiciously. Mac may have been Joon’s buddy, but their breakup hadn’t hampered Trixie’s undying support of my almost-sure future relationship with Mac Park.

Send him an e-mail! she squealed.

What? Why!

Because you can, she answered. "I’m giving you an ultimatum—play ‘FLIRTS’ or send him an e-mail. It doesn’t matter what you decide but you’ve got to do something now or else he’s going to disappear and when that happens, we’ll know who to blame."

There was absolutely no winning with Trixie. She patiently waited a full hour for me to compose my four-sentence e-mail to Mac, and stood by yet another half hour while I painstakingly edited, revised, and rechecked every word I had typed up.

Here, I said, shoving my iPhone into her hand. Read it and weep.

Hey Mac,

10-0 on Scrabble—how is it that you keep beating me? Haha! Just wanted to say hi and how’s Korea... Wish we could all go back and visit. Maybe we can smuggle some of that crispy pata you love—you think airport security will let us?

TTYL,

Andie

PS: Scrabble rematch?

Trixie stared me down like I was a four-year-old who’d just stolen a cookie from the cookie jar right before dinner.

What?

What’s with the plurals? she said, thrusting the phone an inch in front of my face.

What plurals? I blinked innocently, pressing the lock button on my phone to prevent any accidental sending.

"‘We’ could all go back, ‘We’ll’ bring the lechon," she said, her voice dripping with exasperation.

"It’s crispy pata," I corrected her.

Whatever! It’s not like we’re signing that e-mail with you... you should send him a letter from you, not from the collective K-Pop fangirl community, for crying out loud.

The tummy-turning wasn’t easing up. I could feel the blood drop from my face, my palms turn sweaty and cold, and the iced-blended coffee I’d been sipping make its way back up my throat.

I’m gonna throw up, I said.

Man up, Andiebau! she lectured. You should be ashamed of yourself—we’ve got high school girls getting more action than you. Do it. In the name of malice in wonderland.

I pouted.

The whole malice in wonderland agenda was Cesca’s brainchild. Ever the voice of reason among us, Cesca was always quick to point out that if we ever wanted anything mind-blowing and great to happen to us, we needed to believe we deserved it.

Malisyahin mo na! she told me, in her deadpan voice, every time I lamented the fact that I couldn’t figure out whether Mac liked me or not. No matter how many times my friends tried to convince me that it really looked like he did have a thing for me, I slipped into a rabbit hole of doubt.

I couldn’t figure out why I had no problem malice in wonderland-ing Daniel Henney, Nattuwat Cho, KJK, and all my other K-Pop crushes, but the one guy who I was actually friends with in real life was proving to be the toughest to malice in wonderland, ever. In fact, I would have happily run away from the risk of getting into something real with Mac Park and instead, settle into an endless stream of non-committal word games with him. If it weren’t for my friends continually bugging me about taking it to the next level, I would’ve probably been happy, forever trying to glean secret messages and meanings from his Scrabble tiles. But yeah, my friends were right. That was plain P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C (Sixteen points).

In my heart, I knew that fantasy plotlines were best reserved for my celebrity crushes; and real, honest-to-goodness, man-up-or-die action was the least my real, honest-to-goodness guy deserved.

Edit, hit send, and let’s get out of here, Trixie said sternly.

Knees. Turning. Into. Jelly. Again.

SUBJECT: HI

FROM: Andie Bautista

TO: Mac Park

Hey Mac,

10-love on Scrabble—how is it that you keep beating me? ^_~ Just wanted to say hi and how’s Korea... Wish I could go back and pay you a visit. Maybe I’ll smuggle in some of that crispy pata you told me you couldn’t stop eating?

TTYL,

Andi

PS: Scrabble rematch?

With all my whining and complaining and wanting to throw up, I knew that come crunchtime, I could play the flirt card if I wanted to. I hit the send button and read my message to Trixie the Flirt Nazi, who, mouth open, gazed at me in disbelief. It took practically two hours to coax that out of you? she laughed.

And it’ll probably take another two weeks before I work up the nerve to follow up on that e-mail, I laughed, not wanting to think about the major leap I’d just blindly taken. One small step for man, one giant leap for me.

Trixie and I got up, ready to leave the coffee shop when my phone beeped.

Scrabble notification.

Your move with Mac, it read. He’d just started a new game right before I’d sent my e-mail. His word: MISSING.

I couldn’t believe he’d hit a Scrabble bonus on his very first move.

Trixie grabbed my phone and nearly doubled over laughing after seeing Mac’s word. There is meaning in there! she exclaimed, again sending out dolphin sounds for the entire Coffee Bean to hear. I so know what he’s trying to say—I don’t even have to analyze it, it’s right there. She looked like she was going to explode out of sheer triumph.

I was turning into mush again—I could feel my heart go bananas in my chest. So much for nixing the jitters. Before I could figure out my move, a little blue bubble popped up on the top of my screen.

1 message from Mac.

Holy kamote.

Game on? ^^ he said.

Game on, Mac Park.

CHAPTER ONE

MISS MISSING IN ACTION

911. K-Pop meeting at Phan’s. 8 PM later.

Cesca’s text came in just as I was wrapping up my work at Rockwell. My racket of the moment had me doing crazy rounds in Zozo, the high street British shop that just opened and was driving all of Manila wild with its insanely low prices and droves of trendy apparel and shoes and accessories coming in every week. My magazine connections paid off big time, scoring me a mystery shopping job that I’m pretty sure most girls would kill for.

What did I have to do? Go into the store, buy a couple of items every week (all sponsored!), and just pretend to be a regular customer. I’m required to spend at least thirty minutes in each branch, and after every visit, I’m supposed to answer a survey the Zozo office provides me. I rate their staff, tell them whether their dressing rooms are up to par, how bad (or good) the music selection is, how all the clothes and shoes and accessories are arranged. Basically, I get paid to shop and pick on how their store is set up.

The only thing that sucked about my job was the confidentiality clause—I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about my fantastic month-long stint. It was getting kind of difficult, deflecting the questioning looks my parents kept sending me whenever I’d come home with a bunch of shopping bags; and dodging my friends’ consistent appraisal of my new outfits. Oh well. It was a small price to pay for my weekly stash.

So there I was, figuring out if the crop top I’d just picked up would actually work with the shorts I’d gotten last week, when Cesca’s text came in. I had to admit, the emergency meeting kind of threw me off. It had been three months since the last time we all met up, and a quarter of the year was pretty long for a K-Pop hiatus, if you asked me.

The thing was, Nica had flown off to Seoul for a stint as one of those gorgeous CeCi models; Trixie had realized she could no longer survive without a job and had jumped right back into the corporate world (in the beginning, she said it was to fund future trips to Seoul—but after her breakup, I’m just not too sure about