Chereads / My Summer Romance(love) / Chapter 7 - Midnight Truths

Chapter 7 - Midnight Truths

Grace

"Ey." Something poked me in the shoulder. Or someone. "Sleeping Beauty." Another poke. Why was someone poking me? I slapped the hand away and earned a chuckle, then nearly fell out of my chair when I found Rae standing over me in low-slung sweatpants and a plain white shirt. He looked halfway normal if normal was still ridiculously beautiful in nothing but sweats.

I jolted and then tried standing only to be steadied by his hands. "What time is it? I fell asleep! I'm going to get fired. I'm—"

He put a hand over my mouth. "You're really loud."

"Sorry." It was muffled against his hand.

Slowly he lowered it, his eyes narrowing in on me like he was trying to figure me out, which was pointless at this level of hot mess, but I let him think it was possible by not saying anything.

I gulped.

He sighed and nodded toward the chair. "I'll take over."

"Nice trick." I crossed my arms. "I was told to guard the door, so I'm going to guard the door." I almost stomped my foot too. God, I really was a hot mess.

He smirked at that. "You realize everyone could have escaped while you were snoring?"

"I do not!" I looked away in embarrassment. "Snore."

His grin was mesmerizing, beautiful really, like something you see on TV but are convinced doesn't actually exist in real life.

"Can we not talk about this?"

"I think we should." His smile grew.

"I liked you better when you weren't bilingual."

"I speak four languages." He smirked. "Like me better now?"

"That's… arrogant." I bit down on my lip, wondering if he'd share his skin care routine with me at any point. How would that conversation even go? What cleanser do you use? It smells like heaven!

"I'm not sure anyone's ever called me that." He seemed extremely amused by that, laughing and looking away. "And I won't let anyone escape. It's my job too. I've just been tired from our schedule. I didn't mention it, but when you trip onstage, it's hard not to notice."

"Everyone trips."

He nodded. "On live TV, in front of millions of people, during the finale."

I scrunched up my nose. "That's rough."

"I slipped on water." He shrugged. "I'll take over. I'm fine."

My stomach chose that awful moment to growl as my cheeks blushed bright red. "Sorry."

"When did you eat last?"

"On the plane? A day ago? Two? What day is it?"

His eyes widened. "You're joking?"

"I don't joke about food. Ever."

"Come on." He grabbed my wrist and jerked me toward the kitchen.

"But the door!" I tried scrambling away, but he was freakishly strong for someone so tall.

"We'll hear them try to move the chair. It's loud, haven't you noticed? I think half the building already did," he joked with a wink and then opened the fridge. "Leftovers." He pulled out something in a plastic container and set it on the counter. "You're allowed to eat everything we eat. You just can't eat with us when we're filming."

Filming? How often did they film, and what freaking universe did I just land in where there were cameras everywhere all the time?

"Sounds very… mean girl."

"Mean what?" Rae's eyebrows drew together like he was trying to figure it out, and then he pointed at me. "Oh, the movie?"

He wasn't smiling or laughing.

I wasn't funny here. At all.

"Yeah…" I offered up a lame smile. "Thanks for this, and I appreciate you being willing to do my job for me, but I don't want Soli—" I stopped myself. "Assistant Solia coming in and seeing that you're the one guarding the door, not me."

He studied me a bit. "You think you'll be useful to us in a few hours, half-starved and tired?"

"Well…" I lifted the food in the air. "At least I won't be half-starved."

He nodded slowly, his blond hair falling across his forehead. He was studying me again, his eyes darting from my mussed hair to my eyes. "Okay?"

Why didn't I say yes?

"Okay," I repeated.

He turned on his heel; apparently, our conversation was over.

"Hey, Rae!"

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Someone's been studying."

"That's why I fell asleep." I smirked. "If I read about straight hair one more time… or blood types, I'm going to lose it."

He didn't smile.

Crap, I'd just alienated the only person on my side.

"I was teasing."

"You're not funny."

I slouched.

"You should stand up straighter."

I did and pressed my lips together to keep from saying something insulting.

His eyebrows shot up as if to say I'm waiting.

"Are you the only one who speaks English?"

"That's a question for the other guys. Then again, you don't seem to care what we do or who we are, so why would they engage when you're… what's the word… just as… arrogant?"

I clenched my teeth. "I'm not arrogant."

"Entitled. Sorry I got the words switched. Better get to reading all that material Assistant gave you. The last intern only memorized the first few pages and got our lunch order wrong. I think she works at Subway now."

I bit my lip to keep from saying that I used to work at Subway in high school. "I'm a college graduate. I think I can handle it. Besides, it seems to me that the only thing I'm good at is being insulting without realizing it. Well, that and being loud…"

"Don't forget snoring," he added seriously.

"Could we, though? Forget it?" I scrunched up my nose.

"Not a chance." He grinned and then sobered. "I know you must be overwhelmed, but everything needs to be perfect for our comeback. We've worked hard for this, and we don't have time to babysit you. Learn the industry or leave. Those are your options."

I felt scolded, and I hated that he was kind of right, that I had been more annoyed than anything. Solia said she had worked since she was fourteen, and I was there because of a random, desperate phone call.

"I'm sorry." The apology sounded gruff. "I'll do better, I promise."

"I know you will, sorority girl." He flashed me a devastating smile. "Keep studying. There's Red Bull in the fridge."

My eyes went wide. "That better not be a joke."

His laugh was so easy on the ears I almost leaned in. "We don't joke about energy drinks."

"Thanks for this, Rae-Took. I appreciate it." I held the food in the air and nodded.

He studied me again for an uncomfortably long time before he said, "You can call me Rae." And then he was walking down the hall toward my original spot. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Rae. I liked the way it sounded in my head; I tested the name on my lips and then found myself dumbly smiling to myself as if we'd just had a special moment when all he'd done was make sure I didn't starve to death or die from lack of sleep.

Get it together!

I knew I was in a bad mood, but I'd like to think anyone in my position would be experiencing a bit of culture shock along with what the heck did I just get myself into.

I'd been spending the last few months assuming the hardest thing I would have to master would be margarita making, and now I was learning about an entertainment industry that was nothing like its counterpart in the US.

It was a lot.

With a sigh, I heated up the food and dove into it.

I had zero clue what it was.

But it tasted sweet and spicy, had noodles and an egg, and I wanted to devour the entire thing but wasn't sure if I was allowed to.

I put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water about the same time I heard soft music playing from the baby grand piano next to the window in the living room. The lights were off except for a dim nightlight.

I peeked around the corner. The chair was still in place, nobody had escaped that I knew of, and yet someone was playing the music from deeper in the living room.

My feet started walking in that direction before I could stop myself.

The music was beautiful, the song familiar, "Say Something" by A Great Big World. It was one of my favorite songs. The piano keys were lightly touched, the music haunting in the near dark.

And then he started to hum.

I was by the couch, unable to move, when he continued playing the song. It was Lucas; I could see patches of his red hair reflecting in the ambient light as his hands danced along the piano keys. He was the main rapper and the one that I had to watch the most despite his meanness.

I wasn't sure if I should tell him I was there or if I should make a quick escape. I figured he wasn't the type to be excited that the water girl was spying on him.

But the music rooted my feet to the ground.

He was singing it in Korean.

And it was everything.

Beautiful.

Effortless.

He had a voice that was both raspy and deep but had just the right amount of ease that you wanted to close your eyes.

This. This was why I was here.

For moments when music transcended culture, personality, demographic, everything.

For these huge moments in dark rooms, with nobody watching.

When music communicated for you when the notes had no choice but to bravely shout their truth, demanding the world listen.

I didn't realize I was crying until my chin tickled as a tear dripped from it. My throat felt sore and heavy as he jerked his head up and shoved the piano bench back.

"I'm sorry," I rasped. "That was beautiful. I didn't mean to intrude." Another tear trailed wetness down my right cheek.

He scowled and then slowly made his way toward me, stomping, not swaying, as though I was about to get told off in a very graphic and aggressive way.

When he was right in front of me, still dressed in a black hoody and joggers, he narrowed his eyes, said something in Korean that sounded like a curse word, and very gently reached out and wiped the tear from my cheek before semi-bumping into me and leaving the room.

Was he mad because I was crying? Or mad that I'd listened in?

Either way, I was adding something new to his profile.

Lucas wasn't just beautiful, or according to his bio, a good dancer. He could sing like an angel and play the piano like he was born with one glued to his hands.

He was also… angry.

I shuffled back to my seat and scribbled down the notes, and tried not to dissect his behavior too much. I'd been eavesdropping—I was the one in the wrong, not him. This was his apartment, his sanctuary.

I was merely a three-month intruder.

My body broke out in goosebumps, maybe as a sign that I needed to remember that. I wasn't there to understand them or to get close. I was there to do my job.

With a second wind, I crossed my legs over the chair's armrest and pulled out the profiles again.

I had three and a half hours to memorize everything I could about the guys and their group.

Not just another K-pop group, which was a style of music that was taking the world by storm.

No, they wouldn't act normal around me.

Because it wouldn't be possible for the most famous group in the world with almost a billion likes on their videos to understand normalcy.

Bigger than One Direction could have possibly prayed to be.

And weeks away from Showcasing their sophomore album.

No big deal—only a few hours to learn and memorize the different idols in VIXX and not mess up.

No. Pressure.