Page 18 of Hamartia

“Lee Jaehyun,” Cleo says. “He’s from K:OS.”

When Crawf looks at her blankly, she says, “The K-pop band.”

This seems to trigger something approaching recognition and I’m relieved when he says nothing else and just drinks his drink.

“Ah, that was magical!” Camille says. “I loved it. That song will win record of the year tonight. I’m sure it was number one in France.”

“And everywhere else,” Mase says, rolling his eyes, deeply unimpressed.

“Gotta take a leak,” I say, standing. I need some air, some space from the noise in my head.

“Don’t take too long, we’re four away,” Crawford shouts.

“It’s a leak, not a shit. I’ll be back in time.”

I don’t meet him in the bathroom as is normally our MO and I’m disappointed. I consider messaging him to congratulate him on the performance or something but it feels lame. If his band wins their award maybe I could do that, mention the performance then. Less lame, perhaps.

I’m walking back to my seat when I see him, lavender head thrown back with laughter. He’s redressed in the black suit he was wearing when I saw him on the carpet, but he has the jacket draped over his arm. Floral silk shirt open at the neck to expose a pale line of skin. I’ve stopped in the middle of the floor of tables, my entire body vibrating with something fervent. Surge of blood going straight to my head and my dick simultaneously. I haven’t seen him in person since September and he looks taller than I remember. All silk angles and exquisite tailoring. From this position his cheeks and jawbone look sharp enough to cut ice.

Before I can even think about it, I’m moving again, going over to his table. Straight through the herd of faceless bodies toward him. It must be a commercial break because there are a lot of people moving around, trays of drinks being carried aloft towards already rowdy tables. I bump the shoulder of one of the servers and he curses, managing somehow to stop the tray toppling over.

“Sorry, man, my bad.” I hold my hands up and the guy’s eyes go wide, recognition sparking in them.

“No, problem,” he gets out, smiling nervously before he hurries off.

One of his bandmates spots me first. A guy with unnaturally green eyes and an undercut.

Jaehyun has his back to me now, as he talks animatedly to another guy with wide shoulders and a pair of sunglasses. The entire table stops talking one-by-one to look at me, the guy talking to Jae sliding his shades up off his dark eyes. He looks distinctly pissed off at the sight of me. The coke in my veins doesn’t give a fuck though, and when Jae’s head turns over his shoulder and his mouth and eyes widen with warmth, it makes it feel like a million little fireworks are going off in every blood cell.

“Raphael!” he says, turning all the way around to face me. His smile is big and warm and entirely genuine.

“Hey, how’s it going, man? Had to come over and say hi. Good to see you.” I stick my hand out to him. Without a thought, he takes it, shaking it gently. His fingers feel strangely cool, the tips cold even against the heat of my skin.

“I am good. How are you?” he asks.

“Good, great, yeah. That performance was incredible, dude. Honestly, mind blowing.”

I do some weird wide-eyed thing that I’m scared makes me look unhinged. But he just smiles, shyly. His cheeks coloring visibly as he does the same short bow he did on the stage.

“Ah, thank you. I was so nervous. Haven was very generous to ask me to perform with her here.”

I’m faintly aware of the entire table still watching us, of the stare of the guy Jae had been talking to before I got here, burning through me. But none of it really breaks through because he’s still smiling at me.

“So, you’re here for just this or you guys have a show or something? I’d love to check it out.”

He looks surprised by this. “We are on the Late Night show tomorrow and then we go to New York on Monday,” he tells me. “We have five nights there.”

I blink at that because it means we are going to be in New York at the same time. We’re in LA together now, and then we will be in New York together too. We’d been thrown together back in September too. Was that some fucking sign or what?

Except, I still don’t believe in signs and we’re not fucking together. I debate whether to tell him I’m in New York, but a glance at the dude growling at me behind Jae makes me decide against it.

“And your award is up soon, right? I have a good feeling about it.”

He beams at this while shaking his head a little and the action is so adorable it makes my heart trip over. His table have resumed talking, even the guy behind him, and it’s that which gives me the balls to say it. That and the coke and the tequila and the champagne. I use a lower voice than before, but not low enough that it could be considered flirting I don’t think.

“Hey, let me know if you want me to recommend that beach I mentioned before. I mean if you have some free time here before you head out to NYC.”

There’s a flicker of confusion before it clears and his eyes widen again. “Ah, yes. Your favorite beach in LA! I would love to see it.”