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Becka kept reassuring me that I had hit the stage of the tour where the novelty had worn off, but it was still too early for me to have gotten into the swing of things. I spoke to her most days just to have a sense of normalcy, as if she was my window into the outside world. We made plans for next month, when I would be in LA, and I was counting down the days, not least of which because with each passing day it seemed like she was becoming more and more frustrated with her work. Sometimes it felt easy to forget that other people and their lives were ticking along in the background just as much as mine was in this weird, temporary circus.
March 14th
Manila
I pressed myself against the wall as someone wheeled a warehouse trolley stacked with equipment boxes down the corridor, the noise of it clattering over the concrete making me wince. People hurried to and fro, while the sound of the audience filtered down to us from the stands above. The electric energy of the approaching concert vibrated through the walls in a way that never failed to make me smile. I continued walking towards where the tunnels emptied out into the pitch. I could see the crowd at the end of the long corridor, although I didn’t go any further, for now. I’d exit that way once the show had started and hang out at the fringes of the crowd for a while.
I’d just turned the corner when I saw Jihoon leaning against the wall. I paused in my tracks, surprised to see him just standing around when I knew the others were currently warming up in the green room.
He pushed off the wall and casually walked towards me, hands in his pockets, expression somewhere between playful and neutral, making me suspicious.
“Kaiya,” he said as he stopped a few feet in front of me.
I looked up and down the corridor, but it was clear.
“Shouldn’t you be doing something useful?” I asked.
He grinned. “Like?”
“Warming up? Or stretching, or something?” I said, clutching my notepad to my chest.
I saw his eyes flit down to the leather-bound book, and his expression softened for a moment, before his gaze lifted back to mine.
“So worried about me, Kaiya?”
I scoffed. “Merely concerned the audience won’t have a good time if they have to watch you limping because you strained a hamstring, or something.”
Jihoon laughed. It bounced off the walls, and I allowed myself a small smile.
“I was waiting for you,” he said, still grinning.
“Oh? Why?”
“It’s March fourteenth,” he said as if this answered the question.
“Okay?” I raised an eyebrow.
Jihoon tutted, but his grin stayed firmly in place, and curiously, I watched as he pulled something out of his pocket. My confusion deepened as he handed it to me. Automatically, I reached for it, and when I read the box, I barked out a laugh before I could stifle it.
“March fourteenth,” I said wryly, looking up to see his delighted expression.
“See you after the concert?” he asked, looking over my shoulder for a moment.
“See you around,” I corrected, and he let out a small huff.
I watched as he jogged down the corridor towards the green room before I looked back down at the little box in my hands. Pistachio praline chocolates, dusted with gold flakes. Extravagant. Also my favourite chocolates from Korea. He’d remembered.
“March fourteenth, indeed,” I muttered to myself.
White Day. When men traditionally gave women gifts in a sort of reverse of Valentine’s Day. I’d completely forgotten. I wondered if this was part of the ‘courting’ he’d mentioned. I allowed myself a little moment of giddiness before I shoved the box in my pocket and carried on my way.
March 18th
Manila
There was more than a week between the final show in Manila and when the tour was due to move on to Jakarta, and I was going a little crazy. My days were preoccupied with the tour, even in the gaps between concerts.
I saw Jihoon most days, even when I had no reason to.
