His start is a second late, though he recovers nicely. Nobody notices, except for me, and him, I'm sure. And that's notallI notice, though if you ask me, I'll deny the hell out of it.
I watch how his pants cling to his thighs as he twists and dips. I can't help but appreciate the way his shirt stretches across his pecs, hugging him like a glove in the arms as his biceps flex. He's by no means ripped, but he's toned in all the right places, and it stirs a familiar desire in me—not for him, specifically, just . . . for a man.
Right. Not because it's him. Just because it's been too long. That's it.
And if I bite my lip when he rolls his body and thrusts his hips—nobody will ever know. The room is empty aside from me, and there's nobody around to tattle on my less-than-professional reaction to his performance. I shift in my seat,uncomfortable with how his stage presence affects me, but unwilling to look away.
At the end, I notice his shirt in the back is tearing at the seams and make a note to have them let his shirts out a bit at the shoulder line. We don't want him busting out of a shirt on stage if we can avoid it–unless it's planned.
When Kai's part is over, he takes his place in the ranks of idols waiting for the awards and announcements to be made, and I return to my work. After all, we're far from done here. And I've got plenty of time to movehistime around. I'm juggling a million and one things, and at any moment something might fall, leaving me screwed.
But hey, at least the bills are paid up. And as long as I can get my job done, and snap out of this funk, everything will be okay.
chapter nine
Denali
There'sno such thing as calm before the storm. Not in this industry.
The weekend passes uneventfully, with practices, meetings, and an angry exchange between Kai and his agent, which nearly results in another termination of employment. I say uneventful because all of this feels normal, by now. But Monday?
Monday starts off with a bang.
I wake up late, and of course, I can't find my cellphone. When I do, it's dead, and the charger it's plugged into isn't working anymore.
Great.
The water in the building is cold, and I freeze trying to rinse yesterday's sweat out of my hair. A quick call to the landlord says he's aware there's something wrong and he's 'working on it,' which can mean anything fromI've called a plumbertoI'll look up an instructional video online and likely make the problem worse while I try to solve it cheaply.
I can't find the pair of shoes I set out last night for today, and that leaves me with little to no good options. We've got a lot of walking to do this afternoon as part of that stupid variety showthe company signed him up for, and I'm expected to follow him around the whole time. And my best walking shoes are missing.
All I have are a pair of heeled boots, some flip flops, and platform sandals. I choose the boots, because even with the heel, they're my best option. Never mind the excruciating pain I'll be in when I get back home. It's all part of the job, I guess.
There's a bouquet of flowers outside of my apartment door when I open it to leave for work. I'm already running late, so I bring it with me, because I assume it's been erroneously delivered. But while I'm in the elevator, I spot the card wedged in between the stems, and itdoeshave my name and apartment number listed on it. I don't have enough hands to pull it out, so I shove the curiosity to the back of my mind and decide to deal with it later.
Roger picks me up in the company car these days, on his way to Kai's first appointment for the day. And this time, he picked up my boss first. And I'm carrying a huge floral arrangement in my arms like someone being courted. Which, of course, in his world, means he should act dramatic about it.
He eyes the bouquet in my hands with disgust, covering his nose with his hand. "Ugh, what kind of flowers are those? They're so pungent."
I roll my eyes and roll down the window, hoping that'll be enough to shut him up. "They're lillies, I think. I'm not sure—they were at my door this morning."
His scowl is directed at the flowers, not me, so I take that as the blessing it is. "Well, they're horrid. What kind of person gives you flowers like those as a gift? Do they not have a working nose?"
I'm still juggling my bag, my laptop case, the tablet, two phones, and this damned flower arrangement, so I can't get to it. "There's a card in the stems. Why don't you open it up and read it to me if you're so curious?"
He reaches in and plucks it out, eyeing me like he thinks I'm bluffing. "I'll read it," he assures me, tugging the flap of the envelope free. "Do you really not know who sent it?"
"In case you didn't notice, I'm kind of juggling a bunch of shit here, so no, I didn't have time to set it all down, tug the envelope free, and investigate. You wanna know so bad, find out. Then we can both know."
I'm struggling to grab my personal phone in the hopes that Roger has a cord he can let me hook up to up front, when Kai's voice rings out in confusion.
"I thought you said you were single."
The withering glare I throw his way is anything but polite. Perhaps I'm getting too comfortable in my role. "I am. Not that it's any of your business."
"Well, someone else thinks that's a lie," he huffs, waving the card around."To the object of my obsession—No matter where you go, I'll always be with you. You're mine."
My blood runs cold. A memory I'd worked hard to bury in the basement of my mind claws its way up to the forefront, washing me in panic and dread. No matter how hard I try to fight it off, it refuses to be ignored, and begins to flash across my mind in vivid and clear detail.
