We can’t talk about a group of teenage girls like the tires on a new sports car, despite the way some of them try to. Sure, it’s all about playing up good features, but they’re still human.
Yes, we’re basically selling them, but I still think it’s different. I might be the only one, but if we don’t value them as individuals, I have to assume they won’t value us when we try to get them to sign a new contract.
When did RYSING last sign a contract? I know they debuted before I got here. Hmmm. I bet everyone will put up a fight to do whatever we have to in order to keep them here at Task Force since they account for well over half of the company’s profits.
“...taking legal action against…”
Yung-Sun has a beauty mark. I wonder how I never noticed it before. I guess I haven’t really had an opportunity to. Or a reason to be looking. It’s charming, though. A distinctive feature on his otherwise flawless face.
Not really a freckle. Those are scattered in multiples, right? Mole doesn’t sound quite right. It’s a beauty mark. High on his cheekbone, nearly close enough to his eye for his lashes to brush it. I wonder why he keeps it covered most of the time.I assume it’s the work of the styling team and their staunch adherence to traditional Korean beauty standards.
Despite the fact that the fans are vocal—so very vocal, I’ve seen the social media posts—about how much they love their idols looking “real,” they are shined and polished and scrubbed of so many of the things that make them uniquely beautiful before they’re presented to the public.
I like it, the tiny smudge of dark on his porcelain skin. Sort of an invitation that says, ‘Pay attention to me,’ as if everything about his face wasn’t enough to do that already. A little extra something, to entice. Lean in. Brush my thumb over. Drop a kiss on before we part ways.
“...immediate repercussions…”
What.
The.
Actual
Fuck.
I push my chair away from the table and mumble, “Excuse me,” as everyone in the room turns to look at me before I bolt for the door. My mind always wanders during those meetings because so little of what’s on the agenda actually has anything to do with me, it’s hard to stay focused.
Coffee. I just need coffee. That will help. Even the awful sugary stuff they serve in the cafeteria would be fine. No big deal. I’m just thinking. Having thoughts. Thoughts that don’t mean anything.
Stopping at the elevators, I watch the numbers climb for a moment before realizing there will likely be idols in the cafeteria, and I’m not sure that’s exactly who I want to see right now. Not that I’m avoiding them exactly, but I can’t get caught up in a conversation at the moment. I should go back to my meeting.
Which I will. Right after I go splash some water on my face. That’ll work as well as caffeine. A little pick-me-up to clear my head. There’s nothing wrong with my head; I was gettingbored. I will be very awake and will concentrate fully on the topic of the moment when I return.
I’m relieved that the restroom seems to be empty as I stride to the sinks and turn on the cold water, wetting my hands and dragging them over my face. Damn, that’s actually a lot more frigid than I was expecting. But it’s fine! Great. A reset. For good measure, I repeat the process one more time, before grabbing a paper towel to pat my face dry.
Checking my reflection in the mirror, I figure I look sort of refreshed. Maybe also a little bit like I saw a ghost, but nothing that anyone else would notice. Except maybe Grace. She’d be able to sniff out any potential distress in no time.
But I’mnotdistressed. Because there’s nothing to worry about. People have random thoughts all the time. Like what if we could teleport? Or how can anyone eat a tangerine from anywhere other than Jeju? Surely it’s not that out of the ordinary to imagine kissing a pretty man goodbye. I bet even Jase has at least had one daydream about a woman.
I take a deep breath and exit, just as one of the guys from the accounting team that I don’t really like goes barrelling in. Glad I missed that potential interaction, I take the long way back to the conference room, just a few more minutes of recycled air and freedom to help me gain some clarity before I have another panicky freak out or whatever that was.
Nothing. It was nothing. Because there’s nothing going on.
I can hear the conversation before I can see them, instantly recognizing their voices.
“You’re saying you wouldn’t be mad if someone abducted you if theyhad dogs?” Nikko asks, sounding incredulous. “You know I love Noel, but she would not be enough to convince me not to be upset aboutbeing abducted.”
“I’d still be pissed, but like, less? If you can take good care of a dog, you can’t be a totally terrible person. So yeah, I’d still be mad about someone kidnapping me, but at least there wouldbe a dog to keep me company,” Tang explains.
A snort, then, “If a sasaeng tries to take you home, it’s not going to be to let you just hang out with their dog. I donotthink that’s what they snatched you for,” Yung-Sun comments just as they round the corner and we’re face to face. “Oh! Hello, hyung.”
I don’t miss the way Yung-Sun’s eyes move slowly over my entire body, from head to feet, thoroughly checking me out as a smirk tugs at his lips. It’s like he knows I was thinking about him. I try to look anywhere but at his face, especially nowhere near that fucking beauty mark. “Uh, hey, guys.”
“Hi, Kija-hyung,” Nikko and Tang echo, both giving a hint of a bow with the nod of their heads.
“What are you doing roaming the halls?” Yung-Sun steps closer to me, enough that I can catch a whiff of a sweet scent in the air around him.
“Taking a break from a meeting,” I tell him, my gaze well above his head so I can avoid making any sort of eye contact. It feels awkward as hell, but I just can’t.
