It is a truth universally acknowledged, that when there is a hot person, there is also someone with a crush on them. This crush may be a secret or a well-known fact. It may be voluntary, or completely against their will.
Mia Yoon was no stranger to crushes. Hers lasted anywhere from a few seconds of daydreaming to years of secretly pining, regardless of whether she wanted to or not. Usually, they weren’t mutual, so she ignored them. And that’s exactly what she did when she developed an annoying crush on Noah Jang.
Or at least, she tried to. Because ignoring Noah proved to be impossible.
Mia couldn’t remember when she’d started following Noah on social media, but before she’d seen him in class, before she’d even set foot in LA, she had watched his fame skyrocket over the last few years. Suddenly he was everywhere, all over her feed. Rich mahogany eyes and dazzling smile.
From her insignificantly small hometown of Bluebonnet, Texas, Mia had watched him do everything from lip-syncing in his bed to starring and directing in highly produced commercials.
She wasn’t a fan of social media, but even she was begrudgingly impressed by the fact that, for several years, Noah posted almost daily, with an incredible range that went from tragic to comedic, from simplistic to awe-inspiring. This, she told herself, was why she hadn’t gotten around to blocking him yet. And not just because he was incredibly hot.
But now, she wished she had. Maybe then he wouldn’t have such a strong effect on her in person, dancing right in front of her, shirtless.
Those shoulders . . . was Mia’s first attempt at a coherent thought. And holy . . . abs.
Never in her many years of envisioning her life in college had she pictured herself at a party, red Solo cup of SunnyD in hand, during the first week of classes. But her new roommate, Celine Huang, had insisted. And Mia had wanted to make a good impression on her, so she’d tagged along.
Unfortunately, Celine had ditched her for the first hot guy who walked past them, leaving Mia alone to fend for herself against the lure of Noah’s abs. And eyes. Well, both. Mia liked both girls and guys, but guys like Noah reminded her that she was very much not a lesbian.
There were two other boys flanking him, executing the same dance moves. But they could have been invisible as far as Mia was concerned. While the other boys looked like they were just going through the motions, Noah fully embodied them. An extra flick of his wrist. The almost too perfect curve of his smirk. As much as Mia hated to admit it, Noah had “star quality.”
And she wasn’t the only one caught in his siren song.
“Noah! Noah! Noah!” chanted the people around them.
Partygoers bobbed their heads and bounced along to the up-tempo K-pop song blasting from the portable speaker that someone had set up—for a reason unbeknownst to Mia—right by the drinks. Several people recorded the performance with their phone cameras.
Mia’s heart beat faster and louder as Noah pulsed along to the music, running a hand through his
hair before sliding it along his perfect chin in one fluid motion. His movements were graceful, yet powerful. Easy, yet heavily controlled. She shook her head, like that would settle her thoughts. He was a good dancer. So what?
But then, Noah leapt high and executed a flawless backflip.
Mia’s jaw dropped. The crowd went wild.
One of the other boys spread his arms out wide, regaling everyone with a dazzling smile. Waving at a guy who was live streaming in the audience, he said, “Hey, everyone! Thank you so much for coming to our party. We’re Alpha Tau!”
All three boys fist-bumped each other, drawing laughter from the crowd.
With a sheepish grin, the first boy continued, “I’m Thad, and these are my fraternity brothers Brent and Noah.”
At his name, Noah tilted his head up in greeting. Cheers and screams erupted from the crowd, and the two other boys rolled their eyes in a good-natured way.
“Yes, yes, we know how much you love my Big, Noah,” Thad teased. “If you’re a guy and you want to be cool like him, or any of us really, rush our fraternity this week. We do a lot of awesome stuff, and this is just one of the many parties we’ll host this year. We promise we’re chill.”
“Most of the time,” Noah said with a dashing grin.
A few girls in the front row shrieked. One actually swooned, her beer sloshing as she almost fell to the ground.
Thad cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, “Alpha Tau!”
Noah and his friends bowed, each adding a flourish, as a wave of applause swept through the crowd. Several boys in the audience hooted and threw their fists into the air.
Mia covered her ears and backed away from the crowd.
If frat parties were supposed to be the epitome of college social life, Mia wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave her room ever again except to go to class. Books, movies, and TV shows provided her with enough entertainment, thank you very much. And neither of those involved yelling or underage drinking or one particular frat boy who was hotter than anyone had any right to be.
Thad and Brent joined the rest of the party while Noah remained behind. The live streamer ended the video and handed the phone over to Noah.
Mia wasn’t drifting closer to eavesdrop. Okay,
she totally was.
“You’re so cool, man,” the other boy was saying to Noah. “That backflip? Wow.”
“Thanks, Kyle,” Noah replied. “Appreciate you.”
“No problem,” the other boy replied. “Hey, what are you doing for the rest of the party? There are so many hot girls here. We did good!”
Noah ran a hand through his hair as he scanned the area. He did a double take when he saw Mia, standing by herself in the middle of the yard.
Oh, no.
She froze, like a deer in headlights waiting for imminent death.
His eyes widened.
Her cheeks flushed.
“They’re all right,” Noah said, turning back to Kyle. “Not really my type, though. I’m going to head back upstairs and call it a night. Best of luck with rush week!”
Not really my type.
Noah had looked at her twice before saying those words.
Indignation rose up inside Mia, a cold tightness that gripped her chest.
This is why some crushes are better off a secret, she thought.
Inside her brain, a fuse lit, rapidly growing into a fire of an idea. She had to go back to her room to write it down, ASAP. But she couldn’t resist doing one more thing before she left.
Mia cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled, “Put a shirt on!”
A chorus of oohs erupted from the crowd.
Noah turned back around to face her, raising his eyebrows. He’d said nothing but had somehow still got the last word.
Cheeks burning, she spun and ran as fast as she could back to her dorm.
And then, in the safe comforts of her own room, she dealt with her crush on Noah Jang by doing what she did best: she planned out a TV show.
Part One
Pre-Production
Mia Yoon hated Noah. Or at least, he was pretty sure of it.
He and Mia sat across from each other in the lecture hall, and Noah was grateful for the distance between them. Any closer and he’d surely explode into a thousand pieces from the force of Mia’s glare.
“Short-form video is like cancer,” she was saying, looking at him like he’d somehow given her cancer. “It’s causing the death of cinema as we know it, since, these days, fewer people are interested in real stories and are obsessed with clickbait-y, dopamine-chasing content instead.”
Noah furrowed his brow. Well, he had just been thinking of explosions. So maybe Mia had a point? But there was no way he was letting her win this easily. Not when she was on her high horse again.
He raised his hand, and before Dr. Thompson, their perpetually frazzled professor, could even finish nodding, Noah cut in, “On the contrary, one can argue that short-form video is one of the only things keeping movies alive in the first place.”
Mia pressed her lips into a firm, unhappy line. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, and Noah smiled at how she was clearly stumped. “How so?” she asked, begrudgingly.
“Well, it’s one of the main ways people find out about movies these days. Millions flocked to theaters for Barbenheimer because it became a trend on social media. And to this very day, people still discover classics like The Godfather or Alien because they stumble across random clips and fan edits on their feeds. Short-form is simply a—”
“You did not just say Alien is a classic.”
“Well, it is.”
“It’s not.”
All around them, the lecture hall erupted with protests. A house divided, hundreds of voices agreeing with either Noah or Mia. Others had something else to contribute to the discussion entirely, and someone even mentioned she watched Alien with her grandma “at least twenty times.”
This, after all, was film school. None of them would have been there if they didn’t have strong opinions about movies. Most of the voices he could make out seemed to agree with him, though, so Noah sat back in his seat, his arms folded triumphantly across his chest.
Mia scowled.
Noah grinned. He couldn’t help it. He normally wasn’t the competitive type, but when it came to Mia, he relished every victory. Despite being only a first year, she was just so sure of herself, a stickler for her high and mighty beliefs about cinema.
“All right, that’s quite enough, class,” Dr. Thompson said, waving his hands in an attempt to pacify the room. “Ms. Yoon and Mr. Jang, thank you for starting us off on such a . . . lively note. As always.”
The class burst into laughter. Noah watched as a blush blossomed on Mia’s face. He had to admit it: she was cute. It was too bad she was also an asshole.
As Dr. Thompson continued his lecture on . . . something, Noah entered the password on his laptop and went through his unread emails.
As a fourth year, Noah was only in this lower-division class because it was an arbitrary and totally unhelpful graduation requirement. If it
had been up to him, he would have skipped the class entirely. He’d already learned most of the material the old-fashioned way, by going out there and shooting things with both a camera and his phone himself. Like a proper filmmaker should.
Unfortunately, the administration had disagreed, so he was stuck taking a class on creating content for social media. With mostly first years, second years, and a professor who followed him on said social media.
Dr. Thompson liked almost every video Noah posted. Noah didn’t normally track who liked what video, but seeing the professor’s avatar—an adorable golden retriever that looked like she was smiling—pop up in his notifications was always a highlight of his day.
It was the little things.
Noah would never admit it to her, but some part of him was glad Mia was in this class. Dr. Thompson was probably a great guy—he at the very least had excellent taste in dogs—but he was a dull lecturer. Noah probably wouldn’t even stay awake in class if it weren’t for her.
He scrolled through his inbox some more before coming to a stop at a rather interesting subject line.
WANTED: CAST AND CREW FOR THE SPC’S NEWEST PROPOSED SHOW, CAMPUS CRUSH
Marlon University’s Student Production Center—or the SPC as everyone called it—frequently sent out email blasts to recruit people for student-created movies and shows. Since he was already busy making his own things, Noah usually didn’t even bother reading these emails.
But this one caught his attention. He didn’t have a crush of his own. He was far too busy for that sort of thing. But he did love drama. Well, watching it anyway.
He opened the message.
Do you have an unrequited crush? Or do you want to work on a show about one? Then consider applying for Campus Crush! The show will follow four college students with unrequited crushes as they go about their lives
and confess to the people they like. A cross between a reality TV show and a documentary, it raises the questions: What happens when we act on our crushes? And are they worth our time? BIPOC and LGBTQ+ students are encouraged to apply.
Noah scrolled down to see what sort of evil mastermind had come up with this idea. When he saw who, he stifled a laugh.
Short-form-is-cancer-and-pop-culture-is-bad Mia Yoon was helming a reality TV show. Well, “a cross between a reality TV show and a documentary.” Whatever helped her sleep at night.
Noah pressed his palm against his mouth. But the more he thought about it, the funnier it became. A small, strangled noise escaped from his lips.
“Mr. Jang, was there something funny about what I just said?”
Noah slammed his laptop closed. Dr. Thompson stood right in front of him, a perplexed look on his face.
Well, damn. Noah regretted sitting in the front row. He did so out of habit only because Mia did too on her side of the room. It made it easier to hear her when they were arguing. But maybe he needed to start sitting in the back.
He cleared his throat. “No, sir. Sorry, I was, um, thinking about something else. I’ll pay more attention for the rest of class.”
Everyone was staring at him now. From across the lecture hall, Mia smiled. She’d somehow gotten him into trouble without even trying.
Touché, Noah thought.
He was afraid the professor would ask to see his computer screen, but fortunately, Dr. Thompson moved on with a disappointed shake of his head. Noah wondered if he was ever going to see the professor’s dog in his notifications again.
When the coast was clear, Noah reopened his laptop and starred the email from the SPC.
Even if he wanted to—which he did not—Noah didn’t have time to be on Mia’s show. But he’d still keep tabs on it. Just to see how things went.
ATTN: Campus Crush Cancellation Notice.
Due to insufficient talent interest in the program, this show will be canceled by the Student Production Center. You are welcome to submit revisions to the proposal by October 15th or retry in the spring semester.
When Mia read the SPC’s email, she rolled out of bed and called her oldest sister, Jeannette.
“Yeah?” Jeannette said. “Mia, I’m driving to school right now so I can’t talk long. What’s up?”
Guilt and gratitude twisted together in Mia’s gut, like it always did whenever she thought about Jeannette commuting to school every day from home. Two years ago, Jeannette had gotten into all her dream schools on the East Coast but had opted to go to the local state school fifteen minutes away from their house instead.
“Someone needs to stay behind and help Mom and Dad take care of y’all,” she’d said when Mia had asked why. “It’s also way more affordable!”
Besides Jeannette, Mia had three other sisters: Marie, Cara, and Lola. As the oldest, Jeannette really could have left them all to fend for themselves. But no. She had stayed so Mia, the second oldest, could move thousands of miles away instead. Her sister had sacrificed so much for her. And yet here Mia was, already a failure just two months into the semester.
She’d called Jeannette out of habit, because they always told one another about everything. But now she regretted it.
“Hello?” Jeannette said. “Mia, are you still there? If you are, talk now or call me back later. I’m seven minutes away from school.”
Looking out at her sparsely decorated side of the dorm room, Mia sighed. She condensed the mini-rant in her head to one sentence, so she could be as small of a burden on her sister as possible. “My show is going to get canceled if I don’t figure out a way to save it by next week.”
“The dating show? How come? It was such a cool idea!”
“It’s more of a documentary, but yeah. Not enough people signed up to be on it.”
“That sucks. Why do you think that happened?”
“If I had to guess . . .” Mia pursed her lips. “I don’t know enough people. No one wants to be on a show led by a freshman who is brand-new to campus.”
“Aw, well, you just got there. Maybe you can try again later!”
Mia bit her lip. One of the biggest differences between her and her sister was how they saw the world. For Jeannette, the glass was always half-full. While for Mia, it wasn’t a simple matter of the glass being half-full or half-empty. It was a question of why it was half-empty in the first place and what she could do to fill that glass back up.
Campus Crush may have started as something she’d invented to distract herself from her crush on Noah, but over the last couple of months, it’d become more than that. Thanks to the show—well, technically, the SPC—Mia had met Kallie, Damien, and Alex, her only friends so far at Marlon. And the four of them had sacrificed sleep—and a little bit of their sanity—to plan out the show and submit the proposal.
Their producer, Damien, was a senior, while Kallie, their cinematographer, was a junior. Both, like most upper-level film students at Marlon, already juggled an intensive schedule of working on studio lots and going to
class. They’d barely managed to fit the show into their schedules as it was, and they would have even less time as they approached graduation. They didn’t have a “later.”
Mia was going to disappoint everyone.
“How about we take a few calming breaths together,” Jeannette continued when Mia didn’t respond. “Would that help?”
Take a few calming breaths was Jeannette’s number-one mantra, the one that she told all her younger sisters. Those words had—admittedly—gotten Mia through the years she’d worked her butt off to get a full ride to Marlon, a fancy private school that their parents would never have let her go to otherwise. But this time, Mia’s throat felt too tight. She wasn’t sure if a few calming breaths would help with her current predicament.
“Mia?”
“Sorry, I have to go,” Mia managed to say out loud.
There was silence on the other end. Mia didn’t have to see her to know Jeannette was chewing her lip, a habit that both sisters shared when they had a lot on their minds.
“Sure,” Jeannette said finally, her voice falsely bright. “I’m at school now so I’ll talk to you later. Hope you figure things out!”
“Thanks, J. I’ll keep you updated.”
After they’d hung up, Mia opened the group chat she had with her friends and started typing.
Hey, y’all. Sorry but . . . She hit the backspace button. Already, her message sounded pathetic.
Some bad news. But not all hope is lost!
She groaned. She sounded like someone from a Shakespearean play.
Finally, she screenshotted the cancellation notice and shared it without any message.
Their responses were instantaneous.
KALLIE MARTIN (she/her): WTF??????
DAMIEN CARTER (he/him): Is this a joke?
ALEX DOMINGUEZ (they/them): What are we going to do now?
DAMIEN CARTER (he/him): Pray, I guess.
Mia watched as her friends’ confusion and despair filled her phone screen, her own fingers frozen with dread. She stared at the blinking cursor but couldn’t figure out what to say. ...
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