'The Sweetest Girl', by Cathy Ulrich

If I were a pop idol in Japan, I would be cuter than I am now. My face wouldn’t have a tendency to fall into harshness, would be rounder, sweeter. People would see me on the street and say kawai, and I would blush and bow and giggle in a very charming way.
Arigato, I would say, my voice lilting up and up. Arigato.
If I were a pop idol in Japan, I would wear the cutest ruffled skirts and have the sweetest pink cheeks.
My voice would be a breath above a junior high girl greeting her crush in the school hallway.
I would dance in my precious heels, I would wear bows in my darling hair. My lipstick would be the perfect shade, and I’d apply it in the back of the tour bus when no one was looking.
After my shows, people would ask for my autograph, people would try to touch my clothing. People would say I love you. They’d say, oh, I love you. One man would jump off a bridge holding a sign with my name, break both his legs crashing into the water below.
I just love her so much, he’d say as they pulled him ashore.
If I were a pop idol in Japan, I would visit my fans in the hospital, even the ones who jumped off bridges. I’d shake their hands, the way they’d expect an American to do, give them little leaned-over hugs, the kind where you barely touch. I’d smile, I’d laugh, I’d pose for pictures, chizu, chizu, chizu. I’d clickity-clack through the sterile halls in my perfect little heels.
I’d say: Oh, I love you too. I love you all.
If I were a pop idol in Japan, I would have a Japanese boyfriend. He would be shy in the way that some Japanese men are, in a way that implies a hidden swagger. He would constantly be pulling off his glasses to polish them.
While I was off on pop idol tours, he would wait for texts from me. He would keep his phone at his side, he would smile when he heard the alert tone. He would have loved me before everyone else did. He would have always loved me. He would have taken me to Tokyo Tower and held my hand as we looked out over the beautiful city, he would have let me kiss him beside the top floor souvenir stand.
He would have said: I’ll never leave you. You’ll never be alone again.
If I were a pop idol in Japan, my managers would keep me from biting my fingernails, make sure I slouched just enough to hide my height but not so much I looked hunched over. They’d take me to sweet shop openings and pose me eating dango in the most charming way.
Oishi-desu, I’d say. So delicious!
My fans would like when I spoke in English. They’d say how American of her. They’d say she’s so American. I’d be the good kind of American, they would think, apple pie and Marilyn Monroe, not school shootings and conspiracy theories.
Say apple pie, they’d say.
Apple pie, I’d say and pose for the pictures they were taking.
If I were a pop idol in Japan, I would smile until my face hurt. I would like smiling. I would love smiling. I would have so many, many reasons to smile.

Cathy Ulrich has always preferred J-pop  to K-pop, but only because she can understand more of the lyrics. Her work has been published in various journals, including Okay Donkey, trampset and Clockhouse.

Photography by Huu Huynh