Good romance novels are hard to come by, specially the ones that talk about quiet connections rather than instant love.
A Star Keeps its Distance by Lakshmi Iyer comes close.
Here’s how it goes:
Amaya, is an Indian American You tuber with exactly ninety-nine followers, who is also a serious journalist. When her aunt, who runs the online magazine Amaya writes for, assigns her a piece on K Pop, Amaya is a little annoyed. This was hardly serious journalism.
What starts off as reluctant research pulls her, truly and deeply, down the K Pop rabbit hole. She discovers MYNX – a 5-member Korean American group. And she discovers Noah – the main vocalist – who ‘smiles with his eyes’ and is known for his gorgeous hair.
Meanwhile, she strikes up a conversation with one of her anonymous followers. What starts as a casual chat grows into a connection she has rarely experienced before.
What I loved
Amaya is easy to love. What I liked the most is that there is nothing performative about her online presence. Her vlog is simply an extension of who she really is, moving around her kitchen, cooking reflecting, talking aloud to whoever might be listening.
It reminded me a little bit of old-school blogging before the influencer wave took over. There’s a special kind of intimacy, where strangers become deeply invested in each other’s lives over time. I love that Amaya is happy in her space, with her small following.
Another one of the book’s strengths lies in its portrayal of social media. It brings out the best of the Internet as a medium for fostering genuine virtual friendships.
Noah, on the other hand, remains a bit of a mystery. His exhaustion, the pressures of being a pop star, his deep wish to reconfigure his life – those I could get.
Yet as a character he remains charismatic yet elusive. He retains a certain distance. I’m not sure if that was intentional but it does leave him a little less real than Amaya.
The book touches on the cost of fame, its relentless demands and the way these pressures erode the simple joy of making music.
What stands out most, however, is the gentleness of the romance. Amaya and Noah’s relationship is based on the comfort of quiet spaces. Spaces that connect rather than separate them.
Much of the narrative is built through thoughtful conversations, through unspoken moments rather than dialogue which can either be comforting or boring depending on where you are in the moment. I liked it.
The dual point-of-view adds depth to the story, allowing us glimpses of both Amaya’s and Noah’s worlds. I loved the references to The Little Prince, and the role the book plays in both their lives.
The author also weaves in themes of family, of sisters and of brothers. She talks about the push and pull of belonging to two cultures – the inevitability of long-distance relationships being reduced to pictures and occasional phone calls, the regret that never quite leaves you.
What could have been better (Possible spoilers ahead)
The story does ask for a certain suspension of disbelief. For one, the ease with which an online friend is invited to come and live with Amaya feels a little implausible. Though, that may well be my own cultural caution.
Then there’s Noah’s naiveté in believing that a haircut, however drastic, would serve as a disguise. As it happens, it really doesn’t.
There are also moments when the dialogue feels contrived and stretches of silences, while effective, sometimes linger too long.
All of that aside, I will still recommend this as a sweet romance.
An added plus
At the end of the book is an additional chapter on KPop. If you need a crash course, or want/need to keep up with your tween/teen, there’s a whole glossary available to upgrade your knowledge.
Last thought : If you’re a K Pop fan, if slow, quiet love stories move you, this one is for you.