Page 100 of When Worlds Collide
"Does he practice every day?" I watched for a moment as she searched for the coffee filters, clearly growing more irritated with every drawer she opened.
"In the cupboard above the fridge."
I grinned, watching her face relax as she found the filters. "And yes," I said to answer her question. "They practice pretty much all day at the moment. They've got a fuck-ton of engagements planned, and that's before you even consider the music videos, and the tour."
One day, long after most of the rest of the staff had left for the day, I’d gone down to the ENT gym to meet Jihoon. I was earlier than intended and I found him jogging on a treadmill, which wasn’t unusual, but what had been was that he was singing. While jogging, he’d been singing his part to one of the groups’ more upbeat songs. And he wasn’t just singing; he was belting it out. It was amazing that I hadn’t been able to hear him from down the corridor. It was near flawless; from the sustained bridge to the ornamental trills. The vocal control, the discipline… it was astounding. When I'd said this to Joon later,he'd told me it was a pretty common technique in K-Pop vocal training.
It made sense. Performers spent as much time running around stages, or doing intense, full-body choreography as they did singing. The ability to combine the two things… it honestly verged into superhuman territory, as far as I was concerned, as I said as much.
He’d modestly shrugged it off. “We got used to it.”
I don’t think I ever would, not if I practised my entire life.
"How have you managed to make being a celebrity's girlfriend into the most boring, work-centric experience, ever?"
Becka sounded snarky, but I didn't take it personally. Until that shot of caffeine hit, she couldn't be held responsible for her tone. Or words. Or actions.
I laughed softly. "He did give me the choice to not work," I admitted. "But I can't just freeload like that. I need to actually do something."
"Ah yes," Becka interjected, "your mysterious 'purpose'."
I rolled my eyes. I knew she didn't really disapprove of my life choice, but I did think it baffled her a bit, that I was holding out on this ephemeral idea of a life's purpose.
"Have you found it yet?" She prodded.
I rolled my eyes. "Not yet, mum."
""But are you actually looking for it, or are you just playing intern again?"
Oh, ouch. She hasn't had her coffee yet, I had to remind myself. "Not yet," I said slowly. "But that doesn't mean I'm not enjoying the process of looking for it. I know you don't think much of what I'm doing, and yeah, okay, the job isn't 'mentally stimulating'." I rolled my eyes. "But it's a cool experience."
A couple of times during the week, I’d snuck down to the dance studios to watch the group practice the new choreography – with their permission – and I never stayed long enough to botherthem or draw attention to myself. The work that went into it, the repetition, it was amazing. It was also a privilege I didn’t take lightly. I might know all the members personally now, even if only a little, but I’d been their fan first, and seeing this rawness to their process was a gift. Being able to see the start of what I knew would become something seamless, a bodily expression of artistry condensed into a three-to-four-minute performance was something precious.
Becka sighed, but held up her hands in surrender. "As long as you're happy."
Was I? People kept asking me that. I was happy, but it felt like it came with conditions. I wanted to be happy.
"I'm excited to see what happens this year," I said instead.
I’d seen a tentative work-up for GVibes' 2020 schedule, and up until they travelled out of the country for the tour, it was packed. Variety shows, radio guest spots. award shows. They were even taking part in some charity sports events.
Becka poured coffee into her favourite mug, inhaling deeply before taking a sip.
"I did notice you didn't answer my question, babes." She peered over her mug at me. Even through the screen, her eyes seemed to burn holes into me. "Being busy is not a good enough excuse to not prioritise yourself."
I chewed my lip. Becka always saw through my bullshit.
"It is weird," I admitted. "Being here – working at ENT – it's like I'm seeing Jihoon the professional. Like, he's my boyfriend. I'm so used to seeing the real person he is, but I knew him first as the 'idol'. The stage persona. Seeing him at ENT is like seeing him at work." I looked over to the balcony, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. "This is a job, but it's his passion. Seeing the balance is kind of amazing."
I didn't bother pointing out that the army of workers at ENT were responsible for providing the kind of balance that allowedJihoon and the other members of GVibes to concentrate on their performances. People like me, who set up stages. The wardrobe team who set out racks, upon racks of themed-outfits. To say nothing of the tech teams quietly soldiering on behind everything to make sure the lighting was properly cued up, the mics charged… the list was endless, and it was all for the performers.
"That's all very nice," Becka interrupted my reverie. "But what about your passion? What about your balance? All I see is you busting your butt."
"I am busting my butt," I admitted. "But I am also enjoying being on this side of the curtain. And I don't mind being busy."
The plus side of us both having busy schedules is that most mornings we travelled to the company together, sometimes opting to drive ourselves, sometimes curled up together in the back seat of the company SUV.
But, more often than not, one – or both – of us had to stay late, and some days we’d just miss each other entirely. My days usually started at 8:30 am, and ended around 6:00 pm, but Jihoon could start as early as 5:00 am and not get home until well after night fell.
