Page 5 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)

O pting to choose my battles for when I was better equipped to fight them, I turned around, looking up at the enormous building.

I could barely see the top of it from this angle, but I could just about make out the words – Grand Hyatt – from where they sat on the highest floor like a crown.

I let out a low whistle. I was so not dressed for anything with the word ‘Grand’ in it.

Not for the first time since LAX, I felt decidedly out of place.

Pushing down my discomfort, I lifted my bags and made my way towards the front doors. The doorman stationed there gave me a polite tip to his cap and opened the door for me.

“Gamsahmnida.” I muttered, self-consciously, but intentionally. Practice makes perfect, right?

The lobby was bright, but welcoming and checking in was relatively painless, once we’d established I could manage ‘hello’, and ‘my name is’, but that was about the extent of my proficiency, unless the conversation called for me to name various items of clothing or fruit.

Thankfully, the receptionist’s command of the English language was far superior to my Korean, and I was soon being shown up to my room by a friendly young porter.

It was with some relief that we eventually approached a door at the end of a long corridor. I was beginning to feel in earnest the effects of a day of travel, to say nothing of the mental gymnastics it had taken to get to this point.

So, when I followed the porter into the room and then immediately froze, I feel I could have been forgiven.

I hadn’t really been paying attention in the elevator, but looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows, it was clear we had gone most of the way up the tall building, because spread out in spectacular panoramic view was a vista that was as breathtaking as it was wholly unfamiliar.

I didn’t even realise I’d moved across the room until my hand was tentatively reaching out to touch the glass, so cool under my hand.

Discretely, I heard the door close behind me and spinning back around, I discovered I was alone.

Turning back to the expansive view, I tried to make sense of it with my rudimentary knowledge of Seoul.

Laid out beneath me, like a model city, were clusters of more built-up areas, with some high-rises, but the bulk of the city seemed to be further away and on the other side of a wide river – the Han River, presumably.

Beyond even that though, was a range of mountains I had no name for.

They must be of some significance though, they spanned so much of the view.

Being from Cumbria, in the north of England, I was no stranger to mountains, but these made the ones back home seem more like bumps in the road.

For all the rugged beauty of the Lake District, these were like imposing sentinels overlooking the vibrant city.

Such a strange juxtaposition of land and construction.

I made a mental note to ask Jihoon what they were called, whenever he came back.

Turning away from the window, I took my first real look around the hotel room. It reminded me of the hotel where I’d had breakfast with Jihoon in LA, all those months ago. The morning of our first date.

The room I was in now was a living room, with a full sofa suite facing a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall to my right.

Directly ahead was the front door, set in a wide hallway lined with cupboards.

To my left, behind the sofa, sat a dining table set for four.

Floor-to-ceiling windows ran the entire length of the room.

Opposite the windows, a mirrored wall reflected the sofa and the view behind me. Across from the dining table, a sleek kitchen-style counter and bar featured a sink, a Nespresso machine, and shelves stocked with cups and mugs.

I wandered over, grabbed a glass from the shelf, and filled it with cool, clear water, only then realizing how dry my throat was.

Feeling more refreshed, I poked around in the cabinets under the counter and found the mini fridge – fully stocked with everything someone staying in a suite like this might need for a weekend – water bottles, fizzy drinks, snacks, fruit, even a couple bottles of wine.

Next to the bar on the right, a doorway led to a smaller room lined with benches and hanging rails – clearly a dressing room or wardrobe.

It seemed disproportionately large; perhaps the hotel anticipated its guests doing a lot of shopping.

Given the obviously expensive room, perhaps that wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.

The kind of people who usually stayed here were clearly not in my tax bracket.

The last room in the main living area was the bedroom. Like the living space, it had floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entire length of the room. The bed was massive – clad in snowy-white sheets and facing yet another large flat-screen TV. There wasn’t much else to see in the bedroom.

To the right, a doorway led into a large, well-appointed bathroom.

Stepping into the tiled room, I found the wall next to the bath covered entirely by a mirror.

Opposite, a long counter with two sinks was also backed by a mirrored wall, creating an infinity effect.

You’d be able to check if you’d managed to wash every inch of your back while in the bath.

Away from the mirrors, a shower cubicle stood large enough to comfortably fit two people.

I smirked, catching my reflection from multiple angles as I turned away.

I wandered back through to the living room. The porter had left my meagre possessions neatly in the front hall, so I walked over. I opened each of the cupboards, finding a tall shoe rack and two full size wardrobes, presumably for the many, many coats their normal clientèle brought with them.

I toed off my scuffed Vans and put them on the shoe rack, and grabbed my bags.

I dumped them on the bed with the intention to unpack, but then a thought occurred to me. I had no idea how long I’d be staying here. It could be one night, or ten. We hadn’t talked about it.

Honestly, we hadn’t really talked beyond the part where I’d come to Korea.

Urgh! Abandoning my bags, I dramatically flopped onto the bed.

Oh – blimey, this bed was bloody comfortable.

Momentarily distracted, I wriggled up to the pillows to rest my head and get comfy.

Finally finding a pleasing position, I stilled and allowed the morning to settle on me like dust motes onto a freshly polished surface, the banished thoughts tentatively allowed in.

The silence of the room was loud as I tried to sift through the subjects I felt capable of dealing with now, versus the ones I instinctively pushed further back in my mind.

I had 90 days from today to come up with a plan. I had to be gainfully employed or… married, ha.

Let’s start with gainfully employed.

I had briefly joked with Jihoon about transferring to ENT, and it had been nothing but a joke, but could it be a potential pathway?

I knew next-to-nothing about ENT, only that it was considered one of the ‘Big Five’ entertainment companies in South Korea, managing not only music groups and soloists, but also actors and models.

ENT was based in Gangnam, which going by my spotty geography, was just across the river from where I now lay on this pillow-soft bed.

I had qualifications, some experience, and I knew that if called upon, my ex-boss, Jeremy could be counted upon to give me a favourable reference.

I rolled onto my back, huffing in frustration. I could feel a headache starting behind my left eye.

Even if I did manage to finagle my way into ENT – or any such company – was that a step back?

Not that long ago, I’d finally managed to admit to myself that while I loved the artistry of music production, I didn’t want to pursue it as a career anymore, despite having spent so many years working towards just that.

Companies like ENT were vast, mechanical machines made up of many parts. Maybe I could find a position, a path that would spark in me something other than the drive to ‘just get by.’

And, perhaps, if I needed to start at the very bottom again… I could do that.

I mean, to be fair, I still didn’t know what I wanted to do, maybe falling back into something I was at least familiar with would be more like slipping on an old pair of trainers – worn through, but comfortable. Or, at least, not painful.

I huffed a self-derisory laugh. Bold of me to even assume I wouldn’t be laughed out of the building.

I groaned and threw an arm over my eyes. I was definitely getting a headache.

I considered rolling over and going to sleep. I was certainly tired enough, but the thought of going to sleep in my crumpled, airplane clothes made me wrinkle my nose. And so, I heaved myself out of bed and walked the few feet to the bathroom.

As I walked towards the generous shower cubicle, I peeled off my clothes in layers, tossing them to the floor like a trail of breadcrumbs, but instead of crumbs, it was hoodie, jeans, socks, underwear, t-shirt, and a bra.

My mum would have been horrified.

I spent a minute figuring out how to operate the shower, and was gratified to see the provided toiletries, because I had not brought any shower-related products with me.

Stepping under the just-right spray was a religious experience. The perfect balance of water pressure and volume pounding down on my tired shoulders was enough to make me hang my head and just… be.

I didn’t move for several minutes as the water sluiced down my body, but I eventually got to a point where I was so soothed that I was in danger of actually falling asleep, so I pushed through the lethargy to wash and condition my hair.

The products in the shower smelt fantastic, but not so much that I wanted to spend any longer in there than necessary.

Once suitably washed, I padded back through my trail of clothes to retrieve my toothbrush and brushed my teeth using Grand Hyatt branded toothpaste.