lightbeaming:
@venomoushelianthus
Euphoria’s crowd and din threatens to overwhelm at once; this isn’t exactly the sort of venue he’d typically find himself in, and it’s surely apparent to anyone who catches a glimpse of him, of his downward-turned face, the sunglasses despite the hour. He doesn’t mind braving this discomfort. V had heard rumors - no, not quite so intentional, just passing mentions - of someone that he could hardly ignore.
And how quickly he manages to find her, even with his vision being what it is - the beatific smile, the pools of golden hair. She may as well be a celestial body (a sun, a sun) with all others helplessly being pulled into her orbit. V exhales, and wills away the shake.
His hand dashes out, a primal thing, as if it might glance across her shoulder, or else grab hold - but it falls just as quickly back to his side. He knows - he should know - better than to run off of assumptions.
He should know better than to think anything has changed.
“Rika,” V says in a kind of clammer, that familiar monosyllable making him trip tonight. He steadies himself.
“Rika.” (Again, smoother, like she might remember.) “Could we - talk?”
If he could still see the minute way her features would twist - nothing more than a blip in the radar, sometimes - maybe he could gauge her reaction at seeing him. He would be a fool, wouldn’t he, to hope for some modicum of relief - of happiness?
Of course.
He’d come here under the assumption that he was confronting something, that he had the element of surprise - how childish - on his side. But in the resident warmth of Rika’s presence (even the ghost of it, even the brittle shell of it) V’s immediately certain he’s wholly out of his element. Hasn’t he always been, where she was concerned?
The music in Club Euphoria had never been, to Rika’s experience, terribly loud. Perhaps after her time there she had simply begun to tune it out, instead focusing on the conversations with her patrons and between her co-workers (some of whom gossiped more than others). However loud it was, it could not drown out that familiar, smooth voice.
(Smooth, like honey, like cough syrup, like the steel of a pair of scissors – )
Rika turned to face the source of the voice – she knew who it would be, she could never forget that voice, no matter how she tried. But it was visual confirmation that it wasn’t simply her head playing tricks on her, confirmation that one of her ‘dates’ hadn’t slipped past her watchful gaze and put something in her drink. This was almost embarrassing, having V see her dressed in just a step up from the way she used to dress for him, when it was just the two of them. (A white gown, satin, simple.)
Emphasis on almost. Rika shoved it down, willing herself to give him no more power over her than he had – which was none, at the moment. The lights in the club shone green, almost a mint color, reflecting on her dress and hair, and she gave him a kind, almost warm smile.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Jihyun.” The smile was still painted on her face, but the brief moment of perhaps genuine adoration was gone in a flash. Simply a ghost, like V had made her out to be.
He falters, unsurprisingly - what had he expected from her? A complete turn from what she’d been before this chaotic upheaval of all he’d once known? Maybe, however loathe he is to admit it to himself. Perhaps hoped more than expected, but -
That bleary smile can’t be genuine, he thinks, not with her voice so stilted, so lacking warmth. V can’t help but to hesitate, his hand clenching in the open air between them.
She uses his given name, and the formality of it is striking.
“Rika, please…”
He’s come to begging now? But he doesn’t have the time to mull over how pathetic he’s acting when Rika could be gone just as quickly as she’s shown up, leaving him chasing her shadow in her wake.
“I know you don’t want to see me, and I understand. But can’t you give me just a few minutes of your time?” V glances around, at the patrons whose eyes, surely, can’t help but catch on the girl in front of him - just like his always had. His teeth worry for a moment at his bottom lip. “For old time’s sake… I just want to know you’re alright.”
In a manner of speaking.
