Chapter 8
chapter eight
Denali
He hasn't called since that one day, but I keep waiting. The other shoe has to drop eventually, right? It's only a matter of time before he either figures out what I'm doing now, or who I'm with, and makes my life miserable.
I can't keep living like this, on edge all the time.
Hell, yesterday, when Kai dropped a pen in the car, I jumped and hit my head off the ceiling.
He's bound to sort out that something's wrong with me, and then who knows what he'll do?
Maybe fire me. I mean, I'm not failing at my job yet, but it's only a matter of time before I slip up bad enough that I can't cover it up or fix it before he notices.
Last night I gave Roger the wrong address to take us to, and had to correct him about six minutes after we started driving the wrong way.
I blamed the map being upside down, but in reality, I was the one who read my own notes wrong.
Today, I've managed to misname the girl working on his hair twice, grabbed the wrong brand of water on my last run to the fridge, and almost tripped over another idol wandering around backstage.
The look she shot me could have melted steel.
I'm lucky she didn't make a big stink over it. The last thing I need to do is cause trouble for Kai.
"For the last time, you're going to give me a cowlick! Brush it down the other way, dammit."
Speak of the devil.
His poor stylist throws her hands in the air and groans in frustration. "They pay me to make you look good. So let me make you look good."
Kai scowls in the mirror, touching the work she's already done, grumbling in disgust. "The only thing you're doing now is making me a laughingstock. My hair won't lay flat like you want for long. And that stupid hair spray you have won't change that."
I'm rushing over to defuse the situation before another stylist quits on him. I slide effortlessly between them, offering the poor girl a smile and a sad nod. I pity the people who have to deal with him on a daily basis when he's in one of his moods.
"Here, why don't you go grab a drink, Sasha, and I'll deal with the grouch," I suggest, waving her off when she protests. "No, it's fine, really. I've got it. You come back with a fresh set of eyes and this will all be better, watch."
"Okay," she says hesitantly, "but I still have to finish the eyeliner he refuses to wear—"
"I'm not wearing it. What part of sensitive eyes do you not understand?"
Kai's in a rare mood, acting like a spoiled child, and I've had it up to here with his attitude for once. Usually, I can tolerate it, but right now? I'm frayed, dangerously close to breaking, and something in me snaps.
"Go, Sasha," I command, waiting until she's out of earshot before I turn all my pent-up frustration on my boss. "Look here, you ungrateful, spoiled, arrogant asshole—"
"Spoiled?"
"Yes, spoiled." I tug a bobby pin from my hair and stick it between my teeth, reaching up to yank his head down so that he's looking at his feet while I work on the particularly tricky part of his hair that he's complaining about.
He's right; hair gel and spray won't hold it down.
But a well-placed bobby pin will keep it attached to better-behaving hair, and that's what I aim to do.
"You know, a little kindness goes a long way around here.
These poor stylists aren't making enough to take your abuse. "
"I wasn't being mean—"
"You were." The way my fingers grip his hair and twist it so I can secure it is far from gentle, but to his credit, he takes it in stride, not giving any indication if it hurts or not.
When I'm finished, Sasha is still gone, taking advantage of the break she's been given, so I pick up the hair straightener she set off to the side and fix the strand she was in the middle of sorting out, standing right in front of Kai so he can't look in the mirror for more things to criticize.
He always manages to find something to bitch about, and I'm beginning to think it's less because he's unhappy with the things around him and more unhappy with something internal.
Maybe the pressure's starting to get to him.
I'll have to find a way to work in some downtime for him to decompress on his busy, packed schedule.
When I step back, there's a tense silence between us, like nothing that we've had to deal with before, so I fill it with more work—I happen to be a woman who wears makeup, one with a sensitive as fuck waterline on my eyes.
So I know a thing or two about putting on eyeliner to make it not bother those spots.
"Hold still, open your eyes, and look up," I mutter, reaching for the nearby eyeliner pencil.
I prefer liquid liners for this specific reason, but I'm not the makeup artist. So I work with what she's left behind.
"Shit, it's too stiff. Does nobody here know that you need to soften this shit before you put it on a client?
You could poke an eye out with this thing. "
I huff hot breath onto the end of the pencil, and then, when it's not giving me the desired consistency or glide across my own skin as a tester, I dab the end of it on the tip of my tongue, and then bring the pointy end down to Kai's face.
He stares at it like it's going to bite him. "You just put that in your mouth—"
"Yes, and I'm clean and disease-free, boss, so unless you wanna fight the stylist some more, let me help you.
" He stills, and I lean in, a hand on his chin as I adjust him where I want him before I move that hand to the corner of his eye and tighten the skin there to gently apply the makeup in my hand.
"Sheesh, you wanna whine ofer me licking the tip of an eyeliner, but we've literally shared a coffee before, from the same cup and everything. "
That's about as close to kissing my boss as I've ever gotten in my life. I'm not mad about it. He's pretty, and if you can overlook the asshole tendencies, he's not all bad.
"Whatever," he huffs, crossing his arms. "On with it, I guess, you bully."
He sits still for the whole thing, and when I'm done, it's not half bad. It's no cat eye, but it's giving off major hottie vibes, a little dark bad boy, a little secretive quiet dude, and it almost matches the inspiration photo taped to his vanity.
I step out of the way and nod to myself, proud of what I've accomplished with my limited skillset. "There. All finished."
He looks at himself from several angles before the barest hint of a smile curls his lips upward at the corner. "Not bad, Miss Stone. I think you might've missed your true calling when you decided to run social media for spoiled rich brats like myself."
"Debatable," I say with a laugh, trying to deflect his unexpected praise. "You haven't seen what I can do with a burner Instagram and two days' time."
Just then, Sasha comes running over, huffing and puffing like she's just run a marathon. "We're on in two minutes. I don't have time to—oh." She looks from him, to me, and then back to him again, before settling on me. "You did his eyeliner?"
Does she think I'm after her job? I hope not. Nothing could be further from the truth. "Ah, I just helped out. He's a handful, and you were doing so well—I just figured while I was here—"
She shoves past me, grabbing his ears to tilt his face up. I almost yell at her to be easy with the merchandise, but it's not my place. I'm just an assistant. I'm not a handler.
"It's not even on both sides," she points out, but if that's true, I'm not seeing it. "You aren't a professional. You should stick to your own job." Those cold green eyes sweep over me, and leave me feeling lacking. "I can do my own."
So much for camaraderie. I thought I was doing her a favor, sending her off for a break, helping her out. Clearly, I've been dismissed, and though I wait for Kai to say something, he sits silently, waiting for us to sort ourselves out.
Looks like I'm not getting any backup from his department. And here I thought we were getting closer these days. Guess I was wrong.
"Cool, sorry I stepped in. I'll just—go do assistant things, I guess."
Okay, so maybe I'm a little dramatic in the way I yank the tablet off the counter and huff as I walk away, but seriously. I thought she'd appreciate it.
Next time, I'll just let her get fired on her own. She was doing such a good job of it before I came along and fucked that up.
The miniature show is just something the company threw together at the last minute to debut new talent, and make the announcement of a new girl group forming, but Kai's solo stage today is the centerpiece of the entertainment break.
News of his presence here has spread, thanks to the intentional leaks the company has adopted from the Asian industry's strategies.
I suppose that's a good thing and a bad thing all at once, because as it turns out, it does boost attendance and interest, but it also boosts the number of security guards we need when we show up, and the sheer volume of paparazzi waiting outside of the venue to get a peek at him.
He seemed to think that it was interesting and novel that they stayed behind the barricades.
I was almost afraid to ask if companies in his country were really that bad at protecting their talent, or setting boundaries with the fans.
And then I searched it up online while I was waiting for him to get into costume, and holy shit.
Stalkers. They call them saesangs. Fans with no interest in respecting boundaries, who stalk and harass idols at airports, venues, and other public appearances.
Who sneak into their homes and steal things, hide in ductwork, take unauthorized videos, who go online and claim to be in relationships with these men and women, who are the sole reason that dating bans and hypervigilance and discretion that would make the British Monarchy proud even exist in the first place.