Page 27 of A World Apart (Between Worlds #1)

I considered calling in sick again, but the thought of lying in bed and having to face my feelings was more distasteful to me than the idea of going into work and having to pretend to be okay. So, I picked work and threw the covers off.

My alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, so I took a moment to open the blinds and look outside, trying to muster up the energy to feel excited about another day in LA.

When that failed, I reached back and grabbed my phone, sliding my finger up the screen to wake it. When I saw the message from Jihoon, a lump immediately formed in my throat, but I opened it all the same.

Joon

Good morning sleepyhead. We’re taking off in a little bit. I just wanted to tell you I miss you already. Is that weird? Probably, but I don’t care. I’m so glad I met you. Talk soon.

[Sent 06:23]

I looked at the time at the top of the screen. It was just after 7:30am. I’d missed his message by an hour. He was officially gone, out of the country. I wanted to berate myself a little for feeling so morose, but I just couldn’t muster up the energy. I honestly wasn’t even sure how to feel.

Last night, once Becka had gotten me back inside, I’d cried myself hoarse.

I suspected I’d even scared Becka a little bit.

At first, she’d tried to comfort me, then she’d tried to feed me wine, but I’d just..

. cried. Eventually she’d just pushed me into the shower and put me to bed, where I’d cried myself to sleep.

No matter how many times I’d told myself that his leaving was inevitable ? a done deal, a known eventuality ? it hadn’t mattered.

And now, even in the cold light of day, I felt…

bereft, confused, and frustrated. We’d never had a conversation about what happens next, or if anything even would happen next.

It was entirely reasonable to assume this had just been a wonderful few days.

Mostly, I was frustrated because I didn’t understand myself right now.

Sure, Jihoon was wonderful, so much more than I ever expected him to be—on the rare occasions I’d even considered him as a real-life person—but it’s not like he and I ever had a chance of being anything more than acquaintances.

I should just feel grateful for the opportunity to have met someone I greatly admired.

But damn me, I wasn’t feeling grateful right now.

I was a mess of emotions and confusion. I barely knew him.

I should not be this deep in my feels. And that was the worst part: knowing that my emotions for him were entirely disproportionate, yet still being unable to rein them in.

It was like I knew I was being an idiot, but I just… couldn’t… fucking stop being one.

I groaned and threw myself face-first into my pillows.

Fuck, maybe I should take the day off.

Before I could spiral any further into my funk, I fumbled around the pillow pressed into my face and typed out a quick message to Jihoon.

Me

Good morning – or whatever time it ends up being when you read this! :D I hope you got some rest on the plane. It’s gonna be so weird to be at Pisces without you. Come back soon!

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Becka’s voice from my door startled me so much I dropped my phone, which was about the same moment I realised her greeting mirrored his.

“Oh fuck, are you crying again?” Becka’s forehead creased as she wrung her hands.

“No,” I wheezed.

“Oh god, oh Ky, oh no, oh don’t do that.” Becka was flapping her hands, coming at me as I bent over the bed, unprepared tears squeezing out through thoroughly exhausted ducts.

“I don’t want to!” I wailed, “but I can’t fucking stop!”

Becka sighed and sat next to me on the bed.

“Look, there’s nothing I can say that would help. I think… I think you’ve just gotta go through this, you know? I think you need to be okay with feeling this for a while.”

I snivelled, trying to take big gulps of air in-between heaving sobs.

“When Ben and I broke up,” Becka began, and for her sake, I tried to calm enough to really hear her.

She so rarely even mentioned him. “I wasn’t okay for the longest time.

I was so angry all the time, and when I wasn’t pissed, I was crying.

And pissed I was crying!” She huffed a laugh.

“I was a mess. And I think you’re gonna be one too, for a while.

” She ran her hand up and down my back and my cries finally softened.

“But, then one day, you don’t cry, and you start to get a little better. One day at a time.”

“I’m sorry you’re going through this. I don’t think either of us thought this would happen, huh?” She smiled at me, and I found I was able to smile back, because no, this was not supposed to happen. But here we were.

“I’m here for you, babes. Whatever you need, when you need it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when Ben left,” I murmured.

“Ach,” she waved my apology aside. “How could you have been? And besides, you’re here now. Paying his half of... well, paying some of his half, anyway.”

We both laughed, my pitiful intern salary a well-trodden joke between us.

“When does he land, anyway?” She segued neatly away from Ben, still a subject best left alone .

“Hey Google,” I sniffed, “how long is the flight from LAX to Seoul?” My screen flashed with an answer. “Apparently, thirteen hours.”

Becka whistled. “I hope they at least give him slippers and the good snacks. That is a long-ass flight.”

I didn’t disagree. I also didn’t bother to mention Jihoon and his team were flying privately. The snacks were bound to be good.

“It’ll be well after 7:00pm California time before he lands, which…” I quickly did the maths in my head, “will be 11:00am on Friday in Seoul.”

“Is he flying TARDIS-Airlines?” Becka joked and I attempted a half-smile for the effort she made at making a Dr Who joke before 8:00 in the morning.

“South Korea is sixteen hours ahead of us.” I sighed. “A whole world away.”

Becka gave me a sympathetic smile and grabbed my knee. “Come on babes, it’s time to get up.”

And, not having a good enough argument to disagree, I did.

The rest of the day was a blur; the first day I’d had at Pisces where I just went through the motions in order to get the day over with.

If someone had asked me at the end of the day what tasks I’d completed, I wouldn’t have been able to tell them.

Maybe humped some boxes around. Possibly set out some music stands in the big hall. Honestly, I’d have been guessing.

But then, when 7:00pm rolled around, I was glued to my phone, willing it to buzz but, nothing. And then 8:00pm still nothing. 9:00pm, I turned it off and back on again and called Becka to check my line was working. Still nothing.

When 10:00pm came and passed, I went to bed.

Friday

Friday felt like a copy-paste of Thursday, except with the added bonus of dodging Trevor Kyle in the stairwells.

I knew he had followed me in there because A.

He never takes the stairs, and B. I saw him looking up the middle of them before going back out into the lobby.

I don’t know how he didn’t spot me, but I was relieved all the same. It was like creeper hide-and-seek.

It felt like I was on his radar now. Once upon a time, I might have welcomed someone like Trevor Kyle knowing who I was.

I’d openly admired his work on more than one occasion, but now that I’d actually met him—even through our brief and unpleasant interactions—I couldn’t even bring myself to talk about him. He made me feel... uneasy.

This morning, he’d sent a message to Jeremy, asking if I’d be interested in shadowing him on his next project.

The opportunity to learn from someone so influential in the industry had been tempting, but the blaring of my red-flag radar was impossible to ignore. Even Jeremy had read the email out loud with a face more pinched than usual, his relief obvious when I told him I still had too much to do.

So, I spent the rest of the day making myself scarce.

Not thinking I could top that level of excitement; I was just gearing up to cozy up on the sofa and binge watch Supernatural when Becka suggested going out. I scoffed at the suggestion and started combing my hair back from my face.

“Not the scrunchie!” Becka begged, pulling it away from me and holding it behind her back. Silently, I stared her down and held out my hand .

“No, babes, if you put this in your hair, I’m never getting it out again tonight and I want to go dancing!”

“Go then,” I urged, “I’m not stopping you. Give!”

“I can’t dance on my own, I need the divine beauty of two babes in order to tempt the men-folk.” She had a point. Every time two women danced together, it was like moths to a flame. Law of nature, I guessed.

I shook my head. “I’m having a moment, I don’t want to go out.”

“That’s precisely why you should!” she insisted, “you can’t mope all the time, it won’t make anything better, it’ll just make things worse. Believe me, I know.”

And she did, I knew that, just like I knew she was right. Sighing, I said, “Fine, but I really don’t want to be out until all hours, ok?”

Becka held up her hands, making a small effort to not gloat. “Scout’s honour.”

Barely an hour later, we were in the back of an Uber and heading downtown to a club where Becka knew a promoter who who had sworn up and down he could get us a free round of shots.

Becka texted him to secure our spot and I was just staring into space.

I was resolutely ignoring my phone, knowing there was nothing on there I wanted to see.

I stared out the window at the bright lights of LA in the evening, a cacophony of noise and bustle so much like London that I very briefly, but still deeply, got homesick.

I supposed it was about time that I would start to long for home, I had been here nearly two months, the novelty was wearing a bit thin.

The past week had made me forget, but the phone call I had earlier this evening with my mum and dad had only settled me further in to the melancholy I had been feeling all day.