Page 9 of A World Apart (Between Worlds #1)

Except for the very end of the day.

Becka and I were both late leaving.

Me, because I’d gone practically blind trying to make out the tiny writing on packs of switches.

Becka because she was on the phone arguing with someone from The LA Sun.

It had been well after 6:00 by the time we made our way across the lobby. The glass doors to Pisces are polarised, which is why I hadn’t seen the black SUV parked up at the kerb outside until the doors slid open as we approached.

Which is about the same moment Jihoon looked over his shoulder, standing in the open door of the SUV, about to climb in.

His bodyguard ? Eun, I’d learned ? and Youngsoo were standing on either side of him, effectively blocking him from being seen on either side of the sidewalk, but it was a clear visual between where he stood and where I emerged from Pisces.

For a whole moment, we locked eyes. He grinned at me and I raised a hand to give him a little wave and a shy smile.

Eun put a hand on his back and moved to stand further in front of the car door, blocking our line of sight as the car door was closed after Jihoon got in.

Youngsoo glanced over at me, bowing ever so slightly before jogging around the car to get in the other side while Eun slid into the front passenger side.

“I saw that,” Becka hissed at me as the SUV pulled away.

I pulled at the collar of my jacket. “You’re imagining things,” I replied, finding other things to look at, rather than her face.

She was quiet the whole way home, but if looks could talk, she would have been saying a whole hell of a lot.

Saturday

“ You need a new hobby,” Becka said from my doorway. I looked up from where I was sat cross-legged on my bed, a note book open across my lap.

“Why?” I asked defensively, “What’s wrong with this?” I held up the notebook. Admittedly, the page was currently mostly empty.

“Nothing, normally.” She said, leaning against the door frame, mug in hand.

“But you’ve been sat like this all morning.

Have you even moved?” She gave me a look that very clearly told me she disapproved of whatever it is she thought I was doing ? which was sat on my unmade bed in my crumpled jammies, pretending to write lyrics while forlornly looking out the window that faced the brick wall of the building next to ours.

Not a lot of inspiration to be found in that view.

“I got up to brush my teeth.” I shrugged.

Becka rolled her eyes and made a ‘uh huh’ sound. “You know,” she started, “most people would be super psyched after meeting their celebrity crush. But you’re acting weird.” Becka cocked her head to the side, staring at me with entirely too much intensity for 10:00 on a Saturday.

“I can’t put my finger on it,” she said, uncertainly. “He seems like a nice boy,” she said, tapping the rim of her mug against her lip like she was trying to puzzle something out.

“He IS a nice boy,” I said. “A nice man. He’s… nice.” Not my finest work.

“Hmmm.” Becka made an unhappy noise.

We fell into an awkward silence and I began to feel uncomfortable with the way she was staring at me. Becka had an uncanny ability to laser focus on a person or a problem and find a way to solve whatever mystery she found and I wasn’t certain I wanted to be that mystery.

More out of awkwardness than an actual desire for coffee, I tossed my notebook into my rucksack and got off the bed and headed towards the kitchenette. I poured myself a cup from the already-made pot on the side. Becka followed me over.

“Why does this feel like a ‘thing’, though?” She asked, leaning against the kitchen island that separated the kitchen area from the living room.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, looking at her over the rim of my mug as I took a sip.

“Remember that time we went to go see Flaming Sunrise when they performed at the SU?” I nodded. It still blew my mind that all it cost me was ￡5 to get in.

“Yeah, well, remember when we got to do shots with the lead singer-”

“Tad Logan.” I supplied helpfully.

“Yeah, him,” Becka agreed dismissively, “I remember you wouldn’t shut up about that for literally weeks afterwards. Weeks. I had to talk you out of getting a tattoo.”

“Still think that would have been dope,” I muttered.

“And now you’ve met a celebrity you are arguably far more invested in and… what?” Becka put her mug down on the kitchen island.

“What?” I reply.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

I rolled my eyes. “And in your opinion,” I said, pointing at her with my mug, “how should I be acting?”

“That’s just it,” she said, shrugging her whole upper body, like she was mad at me, for some reason, “more! ”

“More?”

“More!” She exclaimed loudly. “More excited, buying useless shit with his face on it, threatening to get a tattoo with his song lyrics. More!” She put her mug down on the counter. Not slammed, but harder than was strictly necessary.

“Help me out here, Becka,” I said, laughing, “how am I acting, as opposed to ‘more’?”

“You’re acting like he’s a normal person,” she said, her eyes widening suddenly.

“That’s it! You’re acting like he’s a normal person you’ve met and you’re into him!

” Becka gasped and pointed at me, her eyes as wide as saucers.

It felt like she was accusing me of having an affair with the President, such was the drama.

“You’re INTO him!"

“Pssh, am not.” I waved her accusation away as I turned to put my mug in the sink.

“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I?” She said, coming around the counter to stand next to me, forcing me to actually look her in the eye.

I leaned my hip against the sink and folded my arms across my chest.

“So what if I am?” I said, trying not to sound like a kid caught with her hand in the biscuit jar. “I mean, me and millions of other fans, right?” I laughed.

Becka frowned. “I mean, suuure…” she trailed off, chewing on her lip. “I just think it’s a bit weird. You’ve met him, you’ve spent time with him. You’ve gotten to know him, in, y’know, real-life. That makes him real to you.”

“He was real before now,” I scoffed.

“Not to you,” she said, pointing her finger at me and narrowing her eyes, “he was Jihoon, the ‘Visual’ from GVibes. That’s a character. I feel like that’s not who he is when you’ve been around him,” she said, running her hand over her neck, distractedly.

My smile faded, but my stomach felt fluttery. Well, when you put it that way…

I shook my head to knock those thoughts loose.

“Look, I’ll level with you,” I said, “he is different than I would have thought. He’s really cool, actually.” I smiled, thinking of all the different ways I came to this conclusion.

“But that doesn’t change anything. He’s still who he is and eventually, he’s going to finish recording and he’s going to leave. ”

Becka nodded along, slowly. I could see I was making sense to her again.

“And this will just be another story we laugh about in a handful of years.” I smiled, but damn if my heart didn’t squeeze just a little bit.

“Maybe I’ll even get a tattoo,” I joked, bumping my hip against hers as I moved away from the counter. She chuckled, and I knew we were done.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“Shower.” I answered.

“Good, because you smell like an old man’s slipper,” she said.

I turned around, my whole face scrunched up, “the fuck?!?” I threw my hands up.

Becka shrugged. “I say these things to help you.”

I snorted a laugh as I walked towards the bathroom.