Page 126 of When Worlds Collide
As it was Friday, it was as busy as it ever got, setting up ‘walk-ons’ – basically a ready-to-use set that artists would use over the weekend for Lives and social media posts. Since ENT didn’t technically run over the weekend, we had to prepare on Friday for anything that needed to happen over the weekend. Of course,tell that to the army of managers, stylists, and other on-call specialists that were theoretically on call at any time.
It was especially busy at the moment, as the company seemed to be retreating inwards in a bid to shield its artists from the ‘coronavirus’ that had officially entered the country. Everyone was publicly downplaying it; tours were still being planned for later in the year, engagements were still being booked, but there was an air of… precaution. Things that could be filmed in-house were being relocated to ENT, instead of shipping artists off all over the country, like normal. Satellite broadcasts were being suggested, instead of putting performers on planes.
Because of this, the building felt crammed – people rushing about all over the place, sets being taken without permission, stylists having to run from one station to the other. Management had even implemented a booking system for the meeting rooms, although most people seemed to ignore this, constantly interrupting in-progress meetings, because they hadn’t bothered to check the room usage schedule.
It being February 29th also meant all the end-of-month shit was happening today, so that coupled with the walk-on setups, and every artist and their dog being on-site meant it was hella busy.
Even if I’d had time for lunch – which I didn’t – I don’t think I could've eaten anything. I still hadn’t seen the photos theTabsapparently had from the ball. They hadn't posted them. I'd caved and found the site during a bathroom break.
There were no photos from that night, just a notice saying they had them and would be posting them soon.
Just the thought of it made me sick with worry.
It wasn’t even worry for myself, because if I had been in any way recognisable, I would have known about it by now. No, I worried that this would bring back up the scandal from theconference room footage. That wound was barely closed. This had the power to rip it wide open.
The good thing about it being busier than Black Friday at Walmart was that I’d barely seen Hana all day and if I was really honest… that was a relief.
My mind kept skipping back to the photo she'd shown me, snagging on it at random moments – like a vinyl record scratching, jarring me back to the moment I’d seen it on Hana’s phone. Each time I remembered it, a sick feeling settled in my stomach.
I wanted to like Hana, and I did. Mostly. But there were times when I’d look at her and something about her – something I couldn’t put my finger on – just felt off.
It wasn’t just the way I’d noticed her looking at the male groups – although that intensity was frankly bizarre. But, at least that you could put down to how ridiculously good-looking they were. Even if she was engaged.
No, it was the way she sometimes seemed to separate them – all performers, really – from us. Sure, they were famous, good looking, and a ton of other stuff that set them apart, but I’d come to see them almost like colleagues, or at the very least, real humans. With Hana, it was almost like we were in a zoo, and they were the animals.
I’d started calling her out on it. It was the little digs here and there, like the snide way she talked about the female artists and how they looked, or didn’t look. It was also the commentary on the tiny plates of food they often had on their tables in the canteen, but rarely seemed to eat. Sometimes it was the way she gossiped about the way a trainee boy group was failing to attract much social media buzz. Most of it was just petty, but a lot of it verged into cruel, and that’s when my patience waned with her.She didn’t seem to mind when I snapped at her, though. I think she thought it was funny.
It made me uncomfortable.
Chapter 39
Later
Jihoon and I did not often leave ENT together at the end of my work day. It was usually too busy at that time of the day, and it just wasn’t worth the risk.
I’d gotten pretty good at navigating the local transport. Between me and the Navar app, I had a decent grasp of Seoul public transport, and I'd even started to enjoy my solitary commutes.
Seeing the city using the tourist routes was all very good, but I often thought that in order to really get a feel for a place, you ought to just chuck yourself in. Jihoon would still rather I use a driver, or at least use a taxi, but I suspected that had more todo with his security concerns than any worry that I'd get lost. I mean, if I could handle the London Underground, Seoul's well-ordered public transport network posed no real challenge.
Jihoon had dinner waiting for me when I eventually made it in the door, fit to collapse after the busy day I’d had.
“Poor baby,” he murmured, stroking a hand down my hair as I unabashedly leaned against his firm chest, revelling in the first bit of silence I’d had all day. I’d managed to banish the noise in my head about theTabsarticle all day, but here, in the quiet stillness of the apartment we shared, and in the arms of the man I loved, I couldn’t help but think back to the photo, and the smile I saw on his face as he looked at Lee Hyejin.
“I saw Min Taeyang last week.” The second the words left my mouth I regretted them. I hadn’t even meant to say them; they just sort of fell out.
Jihoon immediately pulled back, taking some of his warmth with him as he frowned down at me.
“Why?”
“It was after the dance revue. I was outside the studio when he came out. He saw me, and started talking to me.”
“Why?”
I narrowed my eyes as I looked up at him. I didn’t like his tone.
“He knows about you and me,” I said bluntly.
There was a very small part of me that felt like needling him, and judging by the way he flinched and screwed his eyes up, I’d managed that.
