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A World of our Own

Page 67

by Kate Alexandra

Joon

Jin told me you were driving with Becka.

[Sent 21:51]

I froze, hand hovering over the call button for the lift.

Me

I have so many questions.

Joon

Happy to answer whatever you want, jagiya.

[Sent 21:53]

I typed a response three times, deleted it three times, and bit my lip so hard it hurt. I shoved my phone back into my pocket.

April 12th

Oakland

Becka’s VIP package got her a place in a suite high up in the stands overlooking the main stage. It wasn’t private, but it had a hell of a view.

“Bottle service!” Becka crowed gleefully, pouring herself a glass of Champagne from the ice bucket on our reserved table.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a standard VIP perk,” I observed, looking around the busy suite. While servers bustled around with trays of food and drink, only a couple of the other tables had Champagne.

Becka followed my gaze around the room, frowning slightly as she seemed to realise the same thing.

“Looks like your idol isn’t the only extravagant one, then.” Becka smiled, not meeting my eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or quietly pleased. A little of both, I surmised.

For a while we both watched the pre-concert VCR on the big screen. I’d seen it so many times that I had it memorised, so instead I watched Becka’s face, seeing the casual interest morph into something more focused as the lore of the group played out.

“Huh,” she said with raised eyebrows, “I’ve honestly never really thought about the name of the group. ‘GVibes’,” she said, tilting her head. “I probably would have just thought it meant ‘good vibes’. I never would have known about all this.” She waved a hand at the screen, where there was a sparkling visual of Auriga.

I nodded in understanding. “It’s kind of their deep-dive lore,” I said, taking a sip of Champagne. “It’s not necessary to know all about it in order to enjoy the music. It’s cool, though. They came up with the concept just after they debuted. They decided that if they weren’t successful, and ENT disbanded them, then they’d at least have their own lore. A kind of legacy. ‘Five voices, five stars, even if you can’t always see them’,” I recited.

Becka blinked slowly. “Wow.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

Once the show started, everyone moved to the front of the suite to watch. No matter how many shows I watched – I actually needed to stop and think about how many I’d attended now – the experience never got old.

Becka and I danced, and screamed, and jumped around like any other fan in the stadium, aided in part by the bottomless Champagne that kept refreshing itself at our table, and in part by the general vibe of the venue.

“They’re fucking awesome!” Becka hollered at me part-way through. “How did I never know how fucking awesome they are?”

I laughed, barely able to hear it over the thumping music and roars from the crowd.

“I fucking told you!” I crowed, feeling jubilant.

She was still shouting as I pushed her into a cab to take her back to her parent’s house, cradling her new lightstick to her chest as if it was a newborn puppy, idly stroking it and hiccuping.

“Best night ever!”

“Yes, Becka, I know,” I said indulgently, even as I swayed a little on my own feet.