potentiel inexploité

「 ❜♢ : Ⅰ t」 – It was always believed that idols were tortured by the very fame that they garnered throughout their years - or simply months - of publicity. It was also believed that celebrity couples were one of the most fickle pairings due to the attention they both would be assumed to want from one another - eventually splitting over who becomes the dominant persona or who cheats and gets caught by the paparazzi that would otherwise not bother the duo if it had not been for their god-forsaken fame that churned into the bitter curds of infamy. 

     Regardless, it was believed that the Rosarei couple was still drinking from the mellifluous cream that romance provided – emphasis on ‘believed.’

     Having grown perhaps too used to the comfortable nature of her relationship, the brunette sylph had assumed such still was held fast in reality despite the magazines she was all too aware of on her trek home. What had begun as whispers metamorphosed into brusque shouts of a “tryst” that kept her ears flooded and her mind swimming in accusations ever since coming off from work at the recording building that had taken up the majority of her day.       “Miss Cho, where’s Rei?”      “Presently not with me, as you can see.”      “Why is that? Have you two fought?”      “Not quite - not at all, actually. I just had work.”      “Oh, so was the man you were with the other night work-related?”      “What other man?”      “Don’t act coy, Miss Cho. The man at the bar!”      “Oh – no. He wasn’t work related. Just a friend.”

     Despite what she had argued on her behalf, the reporters were always attempting to spin her words into publishable gold. Any inkling of her cheating or thinking of giving up her present significant other for this new-found insignificant “love” was eaten up and most likely going to make it to the next issue of the respective tabloids that asked their questions and made their assumptions. No one wanted the iron-backed truth, they all thought of reaping from the fame the golden idol had sown. It had been a while since she had gotten into any sort of social controversy and such was delectable to the buzzards that hawked her up until half a mile from the current station she called “home.”

     Admittedly, she had not expected to see the very alleged third party in the entire situation at her home that day, leading her to don a half-assed smile and offer an equally uncomfortable wave. 

     “Welcome home – hey, uh, do you mind coming in here? Kind of … need to ask you about something.”

     Sometimes it was blissful to act a fool.       Now was not one of those times.      “Thank you, love. There is nothing better than to see your face after a long day out.” Perfect execution, Rosario. Accentuate your necessity to relax further and he may back off. The brunette wanted to inwardly roll her eyes at her wording, honestly, knowing just how tired the man must also be and how he could have possibly gotten wind about the unfortunate news that she had unknowingly cheated on him while their relationship was still so newly repaired. Regardless, she did act innocently ignorant regarding such as she approached the desk before him with an ironically collected traipse. The confident sway in her hips having still been intact in a display of familiarity and an outward lack of discomfort, she propped herself up onto the desk before him and smoothed out her maroon pencil skirt with a blow of one of her bangs away from her abyssal gaze. Her upper body folding over to allow her elbows to meet her patella, she formed a fleshy bridge out of her fingers and rested her chin upon it. Canting her countenance with a playful fraction of a smirk and a cock of one brow, she reached out a hand shortly after with a purred, “What’s wrong, mi Rei? If you keep that face it may freeze like that, you know.” She would have swiftly grasped his palm and pulled it to her cheek in order to go about her usual weary displays of affection, but she refrained from such. It was obvious something was wrong within the realm of her uncrowned king and she wished for him to reach out to her first - to accept her palm as if means of a peace offering. She wanted for this so much but, of course, she was more quick to act than patient to wait and reached out for his right wrist which she held onto gently. Pulling his palm up to her rosette lips, she kissed along the lengths of his ivory digits with a playful hum that met the staccato of a chime of laughter. She would have gone as far as to nip at the tips of his fingers if it wasn’t for her gaze having skirted along her pelvis upon exploring his palm.

     “BREAKING: ROSARIO CHO, CHEATING SCANDAL!”

     Suddenly, she was ill. 

     The personified sin didn’t want the golden boy to find out about her situation in such a way – she didn’t mean to have him sitting with such a forlorn expression in her own apartment as if his usually bright personality had been sucked out of his very existence. She was a devilish woman, but she at least had respect for those that she held dear – especially her blonde lover who was seated before her.

     This was a mess.      This was a problem.      Did he believe what he saw?

     She truly hadn’t answered his calls the night prior due to being out with her company to partake in light, festive drinking due to it being the birthday of said company - but she simply hadn’t brought her cellphone along in a rushed mishap after finding out she was late to the little outing. Regardless, Apollyon held the woman firm in her position as she stiffened momentarily only to find herself amused by the situation. Her sheer fear of confrontation eased into a subtle bitterness upon turning the situation around and remembering the imprint on the man’s cheek that had left her fuming years earlier to the point of leaving Chicago. Had she not also been solemn and uncertain? It was almost too sweet to know that such an impact had been instilled into the ex-mechanic who didn’t seem to give a single care when she walked into him exchanging breath with another warm body in the space she, his girlfriend, had shared with him prior to the wreck of ‘10. 

     “So, you saw, huh?” The tar of sadistic pleasure upon refocusing on his discontent expression ran thick within her blackened veins, the hand that had held onto his wrist then falling to pick up the magazine that had been off to her left. She read the title out loud with a slow drawl, her gaze not even having to falter from the unnerved’s own. 

     “What do you think about this?” Her words fell from her lips with a sarcastic chime to them, dropping the thin article of amusement onto his open lap as if disgusted by the fact he had brought such a thing to her home. “’Rosario Cho, cheater extraordinaire.’ Fascinating, right? They’ll sell most anything these days. I could have changed my lingerie an hour ago and everyone would know about it if that story sold to those sex-deprived fools that send me promises of fucking me until I sing their name in my next album.”

     Exasperated by the notion, she pulled herself from the desk and circled around it - one palm skirting the surface of the furniture with her focus now on a nearby wall as opposed to the famous Lee Rei himself. Perhaps it really was time for them to run into a bit of bitterness in their relationship, seeing how he had already bought into the story enough to bring it to her attention; after all, whatever damages that would be done to the newly more emotional of the two could be mended by the capable hands of the woman who would inflict it. 

     … After all, was her chance to ride him up a wall not a few years overdue?

»      “What’s wrong, mi Rei? If you keep that face it may freeze like that, you know.”

     Hesitation had always been his worst enemy. He could never just jump into something, he was not the 'risk taker' some believed him to be. He was fearful -- of everything. The man had learned over the years, through past relationships and experiences, that something so small could have the impact of an explosion. Something small had the power to potentially wipe out everything he worked so hard for ... and that scared him. The present moment was no different.

     Here, sat before him, the love of his life. The woman he'd pined for since he was seventeen years old, the woman all his sappy love songs were dedicated to, the woman he would gladly stay up with until 7 AM just to talk about ... nothing important, really -- and the woman he'd lost once before due to his foolish actions. Did he really want to risk what they had over this? Did he really want to risk losing this magnificent woman a second time?

     His lips parted.      No. No. No.      He took a breath.      You can still take it back.      Say it's nothing.

     ❝Well ... I just -- I wanted to ask you --❞

     As quickly as his lips had parted, they snapped shut and pressed into a thin line as her dainty fingers curled around his slim wrist.

     No ... dont.

     She pulled his hand in close proximity to her face, and with a playful grin thrown his way she began to press her full tiers against his pale skin. The muscles in his jaw clenched and relaxed rhythmically.

     Don't touch me ...      Don't touch me --

     And yet, he didn't pull away. He wasn't one to refuse her. He never could. If it were any other moment, he'd welcome her touch, he'd welcome her lips against his skin. The blond would go so far as to say he'd encourage the intimate behaviour, he'd initiate it, even -- if it had been any other moment than this one. He didn't want any contact until everything had been made clear and he was sure the entire thing was false. He still had the underlying fear that it might be true ... What if it was true? What if prior to the present moment, her lips, her hands, her entire body ... had been touched by another? His stomach churned and flipped uncomfortably at the mere thought of it. It didn't sit well with him in the slightest. It was then that he realized this must have been how she felt, years ago when they were in the same situation, but their roles were reversed. They had been teenagers at the time, however that by no means excused his actions. Before Rosario, he'd been nothing but a dog, nothing but a skirt chaser. It was easy for him, really, when his father had such success and he was to take over the legacy. Girls flocked, and he took and took selfishly. When the now matured and elegant woman had entered his life at eighteen years old, rough around the edges with a youthful beauty, he was smitten at first sight and persistently chased after her like a puppy no matter how many times she refused him. All the playing around stopped for the most part, and when she had finally become his -- it stopped indefinitely. He had been happy with her then, though he had sometimes found himself missing his old way of life. Somewhere down the line, he had a moment of weakness and inevitably hurt her. She left soon after that, and he'd found her again years later -- but that was a memory for another time.

     "So, you saw, huh?" 

     The 'Yang' half of their duo lifted his gaze to examine her countenance, and upon noticing that her own gaze was not directed at him, followed the direction of her stare with his eyes until they were both fixated on the same object: the magazine accusing the very woman that sat just to the right of the glossy stack of paper of adultery and betrayal. She dropped his wrist in favour of picking up the magazine, and as she read the title aloud, guilt stabbed at the blond's gut for every word that left her now scowling lips. With a casual question regarding his thoughts on the matter, the star of the media at present tossed the magazine onto his lap with a certain disgust that he'd only seen upon her face and in her actions when refusing someone -- when dealing with something unwanted.

     Unwanted ... unwanted ... unwanted.      The word rang in his ears like a sick nursery rhyme.      He'd become something bothersome.

     ❝I ... don't know what to think, that's why I want to talk to you about it. You know I'd never usually buy into this shit, but I'm just a bit concerned. I don't mean to sound like a clingy bitch when I say this, but ... where did you go last night? You never told me you went out -- and when I tried to call you a few times, you didn't pick up, so -- I just ... want to know what happened.❞ The words tumbled from his lips in a rushed mess, but at least he'd managed to voice his thoughts. He was relieved, however she wasn't impressed with him; it showed in the way she removed herself from his proximity and rounded his desk, her back to him. And this -- this was a panic-inducing situation for him. He'd fucked up, he'd upset her -- this was their end, wasn't it? ❝Listen -- I ... don't mean to offend you with this. I don't mean to accuse you or put you on the spot. I just want to know the definite truth so I can burn this ... ❞ he lifted the magazine from his lap and tossed it haphazardly onto his desk. ❝... fucking filth, and be done with it.❞ with a slight push to the armrests of the office chair, Rei stood and followed the same path she took not a minute prior, and circled the desk before he sat against the edge of the painted wood. With an apologetic stare to her straightened back, shoulders squared and stance confident, he uttered a quiet ❝Ros?❞ while his arm extended to give a gentle tap to her bicep.

     He should've kept his mouth shut.

                                                     ☰☰☰

Don't believe everything you read!

Yeah, no shit.

More often than not, the 'hot gossip' found in popular magazines were spiced up and blown out of proportion, if not completely fabricated in order to gain attention and make sales. He knew that. And yet still, the so-called 'breaking story!' of the magazine that laid upon the black office desk in front of him provoked some unnecessary nail biting from the former mechanic. The magazine itself was untouched, unopened -- he didn't know if he was prepared to read the filth printed on glossy paper that would give him the entire story, the full scoop. The title of the article that was featured on the front page had already been enough for the blond to actually buy the stupid thing, when he was normally able to walk past ridiculous magazine gossip without a second glance. The big, bright red letters that adorned the front cover read:

                                  "BREAKING: ROSARIO CHO, CHEATING SCANDAL!"

Pictures of the woman aforementioned arm-in-arm with a man whose face had been blurred out to protect his identity laid directly beneath the eye-catching title, with small blurbs of text on the sides that read: "Their steamy night out together", "More pictures of the two inside!", and "Where is Rei Lee?"

It was comical, really, how affected he was by such a thing. In actuality, the entire thing was most likely to be a misunderstanding, but he saw no harm in confirming it with the star of the scandal, herself. She was allowed friends, of course. He never wanted to be that guy -- the asshole of a boyfriend who would prevent his girlfriend from seeing her friends, but she hadn’t given him a heads up that she was going out, on top of that she hadn’t answered any of his calls the night before. Being the 'poor and heartbroken' (as they described him on the front page) boyfriend, he had the right to ask, the right to worry a bit ... didn't he? What if he looked ridiculous asking her about it? Wouldn't it seem as if he didn't trust her? If he were honest, he really didn't want to go through this entire situation -- but if he just left it alone, it would eat at him later, for sure. Just as the rapper's hands raised to secure his beanie, gently tugging at the sides to bring them down behind his ears, the creak of the front door opening had broken the dead silence he'd been in ever since he brought the magazine home. Rei leaned back in his office chair to get a good look down the hall, and sure enough, it was his girlfriend, offering him a halfhearted wave as she kicked off her heels. He cleared his throat, wringing his wrists while his lips parted after a moment of hesitation, still not a hundred percent certain about bringing the topic up.

❝Welcome home -- hey, uh, do you mind coming in here? Kind of ... need to ask you about something.❞

↱ ﾟ❛▼ 」 “It’d be a great concern if you didn’t, considering how long we’ve been tolerating one another. You see that, hn? It’s only fair for me seeing how ‘modestly’ you go about appreciating yourself. It’s not very discreet when I saw all those pictures of yourself whenever I end up playing around with your phone. Furthermore, are you not also the type to send me your own photos and silently urge me to compliment you? I’d think we’re both as narcissistic as one another – outwardly and inwardly. We’re reflections of one another, albeit I happen to be more sardonic than you would allow yourself to be. Well, it seems you were calling me cocky as if you didn’t register that you were, yourself. I’m glad that you can turn around and accept the fact that we’re both madly in love with ourselves and somehow with each other. It’s interesting how that came to be - albeit not unwanted or unbecoming in the least. If anything, your self-love makes it all the more easy for me to deem you as the aubade to my nocturne – the yang to my yin, if you will. After all, it’s easy to accept and give one’s affection when you and your partner have enough for yourselves and each other. Everything just happens to come easy with you - verbal lashes and praise alike. If anything, I don’t think I could hold such detailed conversation with most any other heated body. Humanity seems to be far too cold and pusillanimous, parsimonious, and even pettifogging for such things although there are exceptions – none as captivating as you. My caffeinated cygnet, if it isn’t too obvious yet, I do seem to be invested quite fully into you and what you may bring me. For the grand prize of me delivering you a drink of your choosing, would you care to tell me how you manage to alter the course of the female Narcissus’s attention to you? I’m dying to know.”

“Alas, that’s where you fail to convince me but I shan’t argue with you for now. It takes far too much energy to do so. Unlike you, I am not constantly fueled by espresso. As for ‘getting it’, I do. I get that I need to find a means to button those incarnadine lips of yours since they tend to spew such strange comments all too often. Is that something your mother passed to you? I wonder. Your father was never one for jokes - if you’ll forgive my mentioning him, which I know you will. No, baby boy; I would not dare do such a thing to you. If I run you dry, I’d simply spring you back to life even if it means watering the barren landscape of your economic station with whatever the blood within my veins would bring. I’m not one who will flee your side. You sell me far too short if you believe otherwise. At least now I wouldn’t, anyway. We both know what has happened before and I’m certain it won’t happen again. Not even you telling me to ‘fuck off’ would make me leave you. Mi Rei, you know far too well that I dare do many things; is that not what draws you most to me? I dare slander you and I dare to approach you in ways that many others fail to do so in proper manners. What’s a little slander to you anyway if you’re so sure of yourself, hn? Don’t go making me doubt you, my Narcissus. Ah – now you make me worry. Shouldn’t you be promising to protect me as opposed to letting me die comfortably? I’d enjoy that much more than the latter, thank you. No, no; I am but your knight in pots-and-pans armor; provisional but steadfast in my service under my only Rei. Tsk. Let us just say that I wouldn’t mind making the makeup artists pissed off at me at any given moment, lover boy.”

❝I should... really stop letting you beat levels for me on candy crush. You know what they say -- when you have a day where you look good, y’take a picture. It just so happens that I look good every day, so it seems only natural I’d take pictures every day, wouldn’t you agree? I don’t think it’s silently urging if I bluntly say: “tell me I’m handsome”, but you’re right, I won’t deny I do that as well. Are we reflections of each other? It’s true, you’re more alike to me than anyone I’ve met thus far, but there are some aspects in which we’re at opposite sides of the spectrum. Perhaps a two-way mirror is more suitable? Superficially, it would appear that we’re one and the same, however it’s only the two of us who know where we differ -- the knowledge of these differences gained from many nights where we've spent hours discussing the world and the happenings around us. Truthfully, I particularly enjoy the differences between us, after all, what fun is it being with someone who is exactly like you? Again, you’re right, my love. I find you to be, by far, the easiest person to be myself around. I couldn’t begin to explain why, either -- such a strange thing. It’s just been that way since the beginning. Well, I’m not one to turn down a challenge nor am I one to turn down caffeine, so, let me begin to explain how I managed to entrance the “female Narcissus”. If I had to focus in on one thing, perhaps the answer would be patience? Contrary to popular belief, I did not have my lovely, yet powerful and domineering woman wrapped around my finger from the very start.❞