"I'm sick and tired of this," Kris grabs my shoulder and shoves me into the couch. "It's for the good of the group," I explain, struggling to free of his grip. His arms are so strong, he holds me down, and I am limp. "I don't care, that's what you always say." He lets go of me to face the sparkling Seoul night outside our window. "What do you see in him? He's not even a good dancer. The ones that work hard around here never even get a chance."All Rights Reserved