@viseyo

Somehow, he’s lost track of the time. Somehow. Nevermind how it burns a  fat hole in the pit of his leathery wallet, the large, pristine wristwatch he wears that keeps ticking the seconds away is less of an attention-grabber than what his eyes focus on. His fingers turn the small, cylindrical object from one end to the other, one on each flat, smooth end. He squints to make out the Maybelline label, examines the contents, even the little, circular sticker on the foot of the… what is it called anyway, a casing?

‘Rose Rush’, it read. That one sounded right to him when he snatched it up last minute out of a corner shop on the Chinese evening, intent to hurry on back to the hotel room before he was spotted. Nobody could have told him how difficult it would be to find a few simple things like posterboard on the strip, but then again, nobody could have predicted his little schemes. Not even he could. One it was set out behind him, he knew he’d have a good laugh about it when he’d be back ‘round again, to Seoul and on. For the first time in a while, when he stepped off the curb and crossed the street with the red pan-lights reflecting off the asphalt, he felt a little homesick.

Seungri has a shaky but definitive internal know-how of just how much idol life induces him to, the things he will do in the name of entertaining loving fans. That’s not what bothers him. He’s done worse, right? It’s personal, now. A hand drags through his light brunette hair, straightens it out again. He’s about to be on camera in a few minutes. The mess of plastic bags and torn-open sharpie containers behind him that he’s scooted off into a corner of the bedspread don’t call to a great set, and he’s been on a few, these past few weeks, but she won’t mind. She never seems to. That’s part of why he can close his hand around a small container of lipstick and assure himself she won’t be screen-capping this for a walk down memory lane. Those usually end up with his head in his hands or his stomach sore from laughter. 

He leans over the side of the bed to grab his cell phone off of the bedside table with his freehand, still thinking about how Chaerin’s going to react to this little idea. In South Korea, it’s kiss day. He should be next to her, holding her hand while she enjoys the shows in London. His mouth feels suspiciously dry when he presses “send” on the touch screen beneath his fingertips, a little impatient and hopeful that timezones are on his side. 

[text] Hey, beautiful. Have some time for a videochat?

In typical Chaerin fashion she had flung herself onto her hotel bed soon as the day had finished. Letting herself lay there just for moment before the remainder of her energy gets the best of her and she rises again to straighten up the London hotel room she hadn’t seen since the morning. The buzz of her phone interrupts the arranging of shoes and the realization that she may have brought too many, though quickly countered with thought that such a thing was impossible no matter how much luggage she filled with them.

The message was from none other than Harin. Teasing as it asked if she remembered what date it was, all eye and kiss emojis. It would have been a lie if she’d said that she hadn’t forgotten just a little tiny bit through all the bustle of London. Kiss Day, of course. With her affection for weirdly cute holidays she’d had that date somewhere in the back of her mind, scrawled on a post it note, unfortunately buried under a load of other things she piled up in there. Rather than admit she’d forgotten until that moment she sends back her own army of eye emojis and some question about when Harin was going to introduce her secret boyfriend to her only and best sister.

Had it not been for the issue of a couple hours of flight Chaerin was sure she’d be fully appreciating the holiday. Instead she abandons the shoes, there was only so much organizing she could do with them, to flop back onto the bed and wonders if he was busy. These days there was a lot on his plate. She was proud of it, for the both of them. Work could be tiring now, but they would look back on this for the rest of their years. Opportunities had to be taken now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to send him a couple dozen kiss emojis as she rolls over, phone in hand. There wasn’t any scrolling required to find his name, Seunghyun with the heart.

To her surprise the phone buzzes with a new message before she can even select the blushing smiley face. She blinks at it, hand still frozen over her own screen, before it brings a smile to her face, bottom lip half bitten, something like butterflies rising inside her despite the years. His message is already a sweeter promise than her emojis could ever be. It was a wonder to her if he remembered what day it was or if the schedules had gotten a hold of his memory like it had hers. Rather than throw it all at him in a text she keeps it short, keeps it sweet, pressing send shortly after she gets herself up and ready for the call. This which includes positioning herself on the bed so the first thing he’d see was the half pillow half stuffed animal she’d added among the standard hotel ones. A travel buddy, he’d already know it was with her.

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