#yixingsmut

Hot coffee in hand, she grabbed the pack of cigarettes and the lighter from her bag and went on the balcony. This was one of the things she has done religiously, with no exception, for the past year. Almost like a pattern for her life: work late, drink, sleep, wake-up and re-play. 

She inhaled the smoke, deeply enjoying every drop of that minty taste and how the freshness of it worked on waking her up, sipping a small amount of coffee along with it, creating a hot and cold mixture in her mouth. She picked up her laptop and sat down at the small coffee table in the corner of the even smaller balcony. She loved her place, the uninterrupted views of the trees and the whooshing sound they made when the wind was rattling the branches. A simple flat, that others would call a shoe box, but it had more space than she needed. The open plan living room and kitchen were perfect for parties and having friends over, not that she had any but at least that was the recommendation of the letting agent. The bedroom had a huge arched window on a brick wall, just like the rest of the place, in fact, this made her fall in love with it, the exposed walls, with dark red bricks interlaced by white grout, the nakedness feeling of the interior providing her with reassurance and comfort.

She opened her e-mails and scrolled down sifting through dozens of spams and offers, trying to find out if she had any replies from her recent submissions. Being a Creative Director involved a huge amount of “hunting” so she would send potential clients various treatments and mood boards for videos, attaching her previous works whilst making sure their requests fit her profile. The freelance work offered her liberty to choose and pick, without risking taking on some projects that would require her to step out of the comfort zone.

She had just deleted an e-mail with Chinese characters, sighing exasperatedly at their persistence, that being the third one in a row, when her eyes caught something that triggered her memory. It was a symbol, almost like a Chinese character or an intricate knot and she couldn't remember where she’d seen it before, when it hit her.

“Shit! They responded!” She hurriedly quipped, going in the deleted folder and retrieving all three e-mails. She had completely forgotten about the project she had applied for a few months back. A Chinese company, named ZhangYixing Studio, apparently owned by an Asian artist she knew little to nothing about, was looking for a Creative Director for an upcoming album release and video. As the information on the advert was scarce and cryptic, she sent them an e-portfolio with all her works, some treatments, mood boards, photos...the works, hoping they would consider her for the position. 

“Oh! It’s in English”, she said relieved that she doesn’t have to rely on a stupid translator app to understand what they are saying, suffering the embarrassment of using the wrong one that would be completely inefficient and when reading back the words they would make no sense, as it often happens.

“Dear Mrs.”, the first line read.

“Well they got that wrong”, she scoffed moving on to the message.

“We are happy to announce that you have been shortlisted to go through to the second part of the selection process for the position advertised. Please be aware that you will have to send us the designs, two weeks in advance of your chosen date and to be ready to do a presentation. Please contact us to arrange a Skype conference”, she was reading in a haste already panicking that she might have missed the opportunity. She checked the date and relieved to find it was sent two days back she kept going over and over through the information. Opening the other two she discovered further instructions about the format of the presentation and some additional paperwork for her to sign and send back.

Having finished the cigarette she headed back inside and sat down on the sofa propping her legs on the wooden table, carefully placing the cup with what was left of her coffee, on a coaster. She belonged to a special category of people who would drink their poison cold, throughout the morning, dragging the whole process well into the mid-day. Matter of fact this has always been the way she drank coffee, as she hated gulping it down hot, not enjoying the different flavors one would get with the gradual decrease of the liquid’s temperature and she made no secret of thinking less of those people who would disregard the sanctity of the act.

Opening a new e-mail page she started to write the acceptance letter, offering them details about the date and time she would be ready to Skype. Checking the time difference and considering the eight hours apart she was already starting to mentally prepare herself for the early morning wake up time.

“Or maybe…I can pull an all-nighter? Yeah, like you would actually be able to stay awake past 01.00”, she thought and quickly backed out of that idea.

“Early morning it is then”, she said out loud, typing the rest of the details they needed from her.

“Best Regards, Miss…maybe they’ll get the gist”, she added, closing the statement.

Ready to head out for another cigarette, content with the fact that she managed to reply just in time, she heard the ping sound announcing a new e-mail.

Raising an eyebrow, surprised how prompt they were, she opened the newly arrived message and read the first few lines in English that were a “thank you” note for accepting the meeting. Thinking of it as an automated response she was ready to close it when she noticed it was signed by someone named Zhang Yixing, followed by a bunch of Chinese characters and it occurred to her the name similarity. That name stirring her curiosity, she opened a new Google page in the browser and typed in the search bar: Zhang Yixing.

“It has a certain resonance to it, but it doesn’t roll off the tongue though”, she said and pressed enter.

The results came back quicker than she was ready to receive them, and she chocked with the last gulp of coffee, now completely cold, spurting it all over the floor, away from the laptop, but still making a mess.

“That can’t be right!” She exclaimed, heading to grab a handful of paper towels, dropping her laptop on the sofa. She kept glancing at the screen, shaking her head in disbelief, thinking that there must be more than one person named Zhang Yixing and that the person she was looking for cannot possibly be the same one with the very young boy…man…definitely man…starring back at her with inappropriate looks and with poses worthy of models from the Fashion week events.

Cleaning the coffee spillage, she headed back to the table and typed in “Zhang Yixing Studio”, adamant that there must be another person who owns that company, only to discover in consternation that Google came back with the same results.

The shock. Not because of the search result, but because he looked nothing like she thought he would. Instead of a short, middle-aged, half bald, nerdy glasses on, suit-wearing man, she got this…this young… “Jeez he looks young”, handsome, quite tall, hot, “NO WAIT” very hot man…she kept scrolling down the search results and found herself taken aback by the amount of information about him.

“Right! Calm down. From the top.” She ordered herself like she would usually do when she was getting too excited and too hyper for her own good.“ This needs to be properly researched”, she decided, and she started to Google everything relating to him.

20 million YouTube videos, all 4 seasons of Go Fighting, all EXO’s reality and variety shows and 8 hours later she was overwhelmed. How could she possibly not know about them until now? There were huge in Asia and their fan base spawned across the globe, how could she be so ignorant? Amazed by their dedication to their fans, more than once her eyes were flooded with tears seeing how much they have worked to improve and to strive in such a competitive industry, learning about their countless sleepless nights and how they went through difficult changes but still coming out stronger every time. She admired their work ethic and especially his, as she discovered he had an amazing motto in life about working hard and trying harder and she felt bitter for not knowing about them sooner, as she admitted she would have been their perfect fangirl, right from the beginning...lightstick and all.

She glanced at the time and the display showing 19:00 prompted her into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for some food. There wasn’t much and giving up on the whole idea of clean eating, that she sometimes would self impose, just to pretend she follows some stupid trends, but halfway through to discover she’s not cut for the fad diets, she opened a bag of chips.

“Well I guess it’s going to be wine and chips again!” she concluded and opening a bottle, poured herself a full glass, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and went outside on the little balcony. 

The trees were throwing shades against the evening light and played games with her imagination, making her visualize scary monsters with long grabby hands hidden behind the deep forest, but instead of looking away she kept squinting her eyes trying to force her vision to adapt to the dark. She knew better because monsters, real ones, ran free, unchecked, unbothered and unafraid, that they were bold and posed as humans. She knew that very well.

Clenching her jaw and swallowing the lump in her throat she stopped herself from crying, sucking on the filter of the cigarette like her life depended on it, making the ash burn fast and light up in the darkness of the night, scaring the monsters away.

Taking her phone out of the pocket she checked the e-mails again, remembering the last “Thank you” one, and opening it, tried to make sense of it.

Starting from the top she read:

“Dear Miss…”

“Oh…They paid attention then!” She discovered amused.

“Thank you for accepting the invitation and for accommodating us to contact you on such short notice” …she kept reading.

“I hope my team has provided all the information needed to enable you to deliver the presentation and that the entire experience will be a positive one!” Being very impressed with the professional tone and approach of the e-mail, she continued.

“If you need further information, please do not hesitate to contact me” …

“Wait! Hold on. Is this an invitation for ME to contact HIM?” She asked herself, raising an eyebrow, intrigued by this experience already. “Soooo…if I DO send him an e-mail is he going to respond?” She quizzed, considering the offer.

“Right! I’ll do it.” She giggled. “Just to see if he’s actually going to personally reply to it!”

Opening a new page she started writing:

“Dear Mr. Zhang,

Thank you for the opportunity provided and for all the support offered so far by your team. I am looking forward to our conference call and I hope my presentation will rise to the expectations. Please let me know if I need to provide anything else to facilitate the meeting.

Best Regards,

Miss…”

“There! Let’s see if he’ll answer that.” She chuckled and went back to the kitchen to top up her glass. The awareness that was nor healthy neither smart loomed above her, but she chose to bury the little voice inside her head that was judgemental and unforgiving, deep down in the abyss of her mind, along with some other things. Although the latter category would creep up on her every occasion they would get, sneaking through the cracks of her sanity with their harrowing little claws, grabbing her thoughts, twisting them into nightmares she would wake up from screaming and panting.

She tried hard to push the creepy back, using every trick she could, discovering that alcohol helps, large bottles of wine and gin and rum and coke, really helped her sleep without waking up in terror. She knew this could not go on for long, but she wasn’t ready yet to face the dark corners of her memories with a sober mind.

The phone chimed again, announcing a new e-mail in her inbox and she surprised herself by how quickly she reached for it, retrieving it from the pocket, excited and somehow anxious and admonished herself for realizing the need to be from him. And it was.

She remembered the massive time difference between UK and Beijing, China and she gasped at the realization that it was already 20:00 for her which meant it was 04:00 AM for him. Why was he awake so early for? Or did he not go to bed at all?

“Dear Miss…

I am looking forward to seeing your presentation and judging by the quality of your previous work and extensive portfolio I can rest assured it will be at a very high standard. “

“Oh! He knows my work? “ She became more and more puzzled and her curiosity stirred by this unusual approach, so she kept reading.

“I have been watching the videos you created so far and you have been highly recommended by some music producers I work with. I’ve been very impressed with your vision and I will be grateful if you would accept to be part of my team.”

Her background consisted mainly of working with hip-hop artists. She’d always been attracted by the genre or its RnB branches and the very thought of mixing that with the M-pop style Yixing was promoting made her ecstatic, her mind already overflowing ideas. She continued reading, still unsure how to feel about the whole approach.

“I am aware that my team has described the next stage as an enhanced interview, but I can assure you that I have already made up my mind and your presentation will only emphasize to the other members of the company what I have already discovered and strongly stand by.

I hope this will provide some peace of mind for you and that you will accept our offer. Again, I invite you to get in touch if there is anything I can help with.”

Needing some fresh air to absorb what she'd just read, she went outside again, wine glass and cigarette in hand, replaying the e-mail in her head and trying to understand. Beyond amazed and proud of herself for landing such an amazing project but also anxious about what the whole thing would entail, she let her mind explore the possibilities and the amount of exposure it would bring to her profile. By her standards she still needed to work very hard to claim that she’s known, she’d still consider herself a newbie, even if her portfolio comprised of huge names and accolades dedicated to her creations. 

So much to consider: temporary relocation to China, working with these amazing teams of very talented people and there she was...practically a no-name, who just had her major breakthrough, barely starting to create a name for herself in the music industry, with no awards to show off. Just the passion for what she believed in. There wasn’t anything she loved more than what went on during the creation process of a video. How would she tell the story, how would the artist be represented and how she would do justice to the music. She would stay awake for days to put it all together and she wouldn’t even mind the lack of sleep that would push her to exhaustion. The adrenaline rush she would get from seeing the final cut would give her enough energy to last a week without or very little sleep.

With a big breath in she started writing a new message:

“Dear Mr. Zhang,

I am beyond humbled and grateful for the offer and the opportunity to be a small part of your amazing team. I will try to impress the rest of the crew with my presentation and hopefully, they would see in me the same thrive and energy that you saw.

All the best...

She pressed send and went inside feeling the cold and windy air prickling her skin and making her shiver. 

Sitting on the sofa, she turned on the radio to her favorite station. The R’n’B sexy, slow jams station had the perfect playlist, inducing her in a lazy, sleepy mood. Feeling that warmth that comes with wine, the sharpness of her senses faded with each sip of the crisp white. Halfway through the bottle, and the slight warmness that tingled her became louder and stronger, overtaking her desires, asking for more. She placed the wine glass on the coffee table and laid back, closing her eyes and allowing her hands to take control of her body. Caressing her breasts, slipping one hand under the t-shirt, gently started playing with a nipple whilst lowering the other hand between her legs. Going past the fabric of her underwear she found her core already dripping, inviting her fingers to explore and she eagerly did so, making herself moan and arch her back. With her eyes closed, she reached for the places she knew would bring her pleasure and started to stimulate them. She kept hitting the same spot over and over again making herself bit her lower lip and panting erratically. She wasn't thinking about anything in particular, focusing only on the waves of warmth coming over her, when suddenly, her mind started to drift towards the photos she saw earlier that day. The millions of photos with him dancing, his face, his torso, the way he bit his lips, the way he raised an eyebrow, the tiny mole on his ear, that line that cut through his bottom lip...damn those fans and their HD cameras. She tried to push “him” out of her game, focusing on something else, but all too little too late, as she started to replay the videos. “Oh, not the videos”, she kept saying to herself in a weak attempt to ban him from taking part, feeling awkward that he is somehow involved. Imagining him moving divinely on stage, thrusting his hips to the rhythm, gazing too much into the cameras, she even recollected the “water dance” from the concert...her mind adamantly tapping into all sources...she couldn’t stop, she didn't want to; increasing the pace, she kept moving her fingers bringing herself closer to relief. Visualising him in that unbuttoned blue shirt, revealing his abs glistening in the stage lights, his hair dripping over his eyes, those tight leather pants all soaking wet, leaving nothing to the imagination and him...well being him when performing, she came undone under her own touches, breathing heavily and feeling her own heartbeat.

She sat there motionless with her hand still trapped by the waistband of her sweat pants, whilst coming back from the high and drifting into the realm of a dreamless sleep.

The next few weeks went uneventful, as she continued working on other projects, finalizing a video for a different client and sending some drafts and a set of treatments to another. She loved the ability to work from home and that she didn’t have to leave the comfort of her sweatpants to make a living. It had been a year since she stopped meeting clients; it had been a whole year since the last so-called meeting with one of the most hyped artists. It was one of those late night “I need you to come to review this, I’m not happy with how it looks” kind of meetings and she knew it right from the start, it didn’t feel right, but not wanting to risk losing a contact she went anyway. She reassured her nervous mind that it will be just a quick review, that there’s going to be other people there, even if the hour was late and that maybe, the client really felt unhappy with the way the video looks. If only she would’ve listened to her gut.

Shaking her head, almost as if to make it all go away she immersed herself in work.

As there were no more e-mails from Yixing’s Studio, she became slightly anxious and deciding to end her worries she started a new e-mail:

“Dear Mr. Zhang,

Giving the fact that the Skype conference is just 3 days away, I just want to make sure your team is in possession of everything they need to help me facilitate. I have submitted some additional drawings, please find attached, which will hopefully help your other board members decide whether we can collaborate in the future.

Best Regards,”

Her finger looming above the send button, undecided if it's the right move, she eventually pressed it and went back to the drawing board. Her vision for the video imagined a fantastical world, almost like Goya’s paintings and she wanted to make use of natural elements as well as CGI. The song they’d send her inspired a utopic world with strokes of surreal and the location she chose provided the backdrop for all that. She hoped they would accept the project and somehow embrace her conceptualization. Drawing some more sketches, adding textures and colors to the ensemble she heard the notification of a new e-mail and surprised herself with the speed she dropped everything to check it.

“Dear Miss…

Thank you for submitting the drawings. I absolutely love them, and I don’t think anyone would see it differently. I am very excited that you will be joining my team and I know that you haven’t decided yet but hopefully after the Skype conference you will be able to.

Looking forward to seeing you, ZY”

Taking a deep breath in, thankful that he likes the drawings, it daunted to her that the actual Skype call was in 3 days time. A wave of worries and panicked thoughts washed over and she couldn’t understand what exactly made her feel so. She had done these types of interviews before and they all went the same: portfolios, presentation, talk about the artist, praise the music, share the vision of the artist and sign the contract. The end. 

Thinking that she must distract herself from worrying and overthinking every single detail to the point of making herself sick, she decided it was time for a makeover. 

Booking an appointment at one of the hair salons in town, one of those she wouldn’t normally visit, the shiny ones, with millions of light spots and orchids and burning incense, with stylists who would have a judgemental look on their face, making people think they are worthless because they don’t use conditioner…that sort of place, she decided it will be worth the effort and maybe it will help her get rid of the nerves and take her mind away from stupid stuff.

The place displayed exactly as she'd imagined, it looked expensive and way out of her league. She went in and immediately found herself greeted by a girl with a forced, rehearsed smile. Revealing the booking details, the lady directed her to take a seat on one of their sofas. She sat down thinking how much out of place she can be, looking around and seeing her barred face and uncolored hair with no shape whatsoever and some split ends, in all those mirrors, from all angles and she sighed exasperatedly.

“Why would they need so many mirrors?” she thought, taking her phone out and aimlessly starting to browse on Twitter. Since she accepted the interview she started following different k-pop fan labs and some of Yixing’s fan accounts and obviously his official one. She never used to spend much time on Twitter as she considered it a silly place where people would hide behind hashtags and behave irrationally, taking on subjects outside their remit, but who would venture an opinion anyway because that’s how it apparently works...Everyone is entitled to an opinion and they never shy away from imposing it to others and so on. She went on his profile and she couldn’t help not scrolling through his photos, reminding herself what her future client looked like, even though she didn’t need any reminders at all. He had been a constant presence in her mind ever since that evening when she couldn’t keep him out of her little relaxation session and feeling her cheeks burning at the very thought, she scolded herself for behaving so much like a school girl. Trying to cool down, she was approached by one of the girls in reception who, very politely, showed her the way to the stylist she had booked.

A young, tall man, wearing a waistcoat over a crisp white shirt and a wide genuine smile, greeted her. His impeccable appearance only made her feel more awkward and out of place and she hesitantly got closer to the chair.

“Hi! I’m Sebastian!” The man said suddenly, still smiling and leaned forward to shake her hand with a reassurance that instantly put her at ease.

“Hi, Sebastian! Thank you for seeing me on such short notice”, she said with a deep sigh.” I need help, as you can see, it’s been a while”, she added and burst into laughter realizing how interpretable that sounded.

Raising an eyebrow Sebastian laughed:

“Well, darling, we need to do something about that, don’t we? Would you trust me to try something different?” He asked, looking at her in the lighted mirror. Nodding her head in approval she relied on the very convincing Sebastian to work his miracles. Waving his hand, he immediately, out of nowhere, was joined by a girl in her late 20’s that had a statuesque stance and an unreadable expression on her face. Wearing the same type waistcoat over a white shirt and a cropped pair of plaid trousers, she extended her hand: 

“This is Claire, my assistant”, Sebastian explained. “She is a colorist”, he continued as if to reassure his client that she will be well looked after.

Slumping in the chair to get more comfortable, closing her eyes she instructed them smiling:

“Do your thing!”

Two and a half hours later she looked in the mirror and couldn’t believe her eyes…She looked at Sebastian and Claire who were now anxiously waiting for her feedback.

“Sebastian! It’s purple! She said, examining her locks.” And I love it!”

Clapping his hands excitedly Sebastian pulled her in a hug.

“I knew it darling! I’ve never had an unsatisfied client in my entire career and damn if you were to become one!” He said with an overdramatic tone.

She examined it running her fingers through the strands. It had deep, dark purple highlights, hidden under her own hair, visible only when she moved her head or when she lifted it all up. It mirrored the duality of her character: professional yet willing to go crazy in a split of a second if needed. She couldn’t stop admiring it and she looked grateful towards Claire.

“Thank you both! It’s perfect!” She said again, grinning ear to ear, satisfied how it turned out.

On her way back home, she kept checking her look in all the stores' windows, doing the bouncy walk on purpose, just to get her hair to reveal the purple underneath.

Grabbing some food on the way she headed home and she spent most of the evening constantly checking her hair in the mirror and taking hundreds of selfies. She hadn’t felt this good in a while and she missed the empowerment that came with it, becoming slightly sad at the realization that if known to her how such a small thing would help, she would’ve done it a long time ago.

The next couple of days went excruciatingly slow and she didn’t think much about the interview, refusing to get herself worked up.

On the night before, however, she tossed and turned for hours. Beginning to think that maybe staying awake was a good idea, considering it was already 02.30 am and she had to be ready for the 06:00 am interview, she went into the kitchen initially for a glass of wine. Halfway there, she reminded herself the importance of not screwing up and turned on the espresso machine instead.

“So, no sleep it is then!” She added, succumbing to the idea that it would’ve been too late to sleep anyway and that way she had more time to get ready.

Going outside, she lit up a cigarette, holding the cup of hot steaming coffee close to her chest, inhaling the flavor and letting the cool air hit her face. Her entire body was shaking and she couldn’t say if it was because of the cold morning air or the anxiety of having to go through with the meeting. She accepted deep down it was more to do with the idea of finally meeting them, the whole team and especially seeing him. It was all about him and she knew it, she was just stubbornly denying the truth staring her in the face: she wanted to see him.

Still sipping her coffee, she went into the bedroom and put on the dress she had decided on weeks before. She planned every single detail meticulously, plotting like a “serial dater”, carefully choosing her makeup and clothes so that they would be just right, not too loud, not too bland, showing off her personality, complimenting her figure. During her sleepless nights, she would think about all the details down to the most insignificant ones, projecting into the universe her wishes for a very successful session, hoping they would return fulfilled. 

She decided on wearing her favorite dress. Dark green with a halter cut, perfectly framing her neck between two sides tied up in a bow behind the head. She loved the way the dress clung on, hugging around the waist, falling loosely over the hips, ending right above the knees and she definitely loved how the deep green complemented her newly acquired purple locks. She pulled her hair back, gathering it in a low bun, leaving out a few rebel stands. Keeping her make-up minimal, she did accentuate her eyes, making them sparkle and deepening the color at the same time, thankful that her usual dark circles decided to play nice that morning and stay hidden under the concealer she applied skillfully. 

Taking one last look in the mirror she corrected her posture and voiced: 

“You’ve got this!” 

Meticulously, she checked the connection, the laptop, the power, the backup power, and the slides, making sure she had a back-up for backup. Everything ready, she sat down, waiting, controlling her breathing, trying to steady it.

The sudden Skype ringtone made her jump and she immediately reached for the accept button.

 A young girl, with beautiful Asian features, appeared on her screen and greeted her in English:

“Good Afternoon! My name is Liv!” She quipped and bowed politely towards the screen. “Can you hear me clearly? Can you see me?” She asked immediately, wanting to make sure all technicalities are in order.

“Good Morning Liv!” She replied to the girl, smiling. “I can hear and see you perfectly!”

“Oh yes! It’s early morning for you, isn’t it? What’s the time?” Liv added, trying to sort out the volume of the microphone at the same time. 

“It’s 6.30 for me!” She replied, failing to hide the self-congratulatory tone. 

Trying to prolong that feeling of safety, that sense of being protected from his presence and his hypnotizing appearance, she kept looking down at her keyboard, delaying the imminent eye contact as much as the norms of politeness allowed it. When she finally felt brave enough to look up, after gathering all her powers and invocating all demons and gods known to man, she lifted her gaze towards the screen. And there he was.

Waiting calmly and smiling politely, highlighting his dimples, with a warm look adorning his dark eyes, he greeted her with a slight bow. Even under the unflattering neon lights of the room they were in, he looked as if he just came from a photo shoot. His honey tinted skin was glowing, making her emphasize the hatred towards those who would dare whitewash his photos. As far as she was able to distinguish through the laptop screen, he wasn’t wearing any make-up, as his eyes were framed by the slight presence of dark circles, a hint that his schedule and work routine were still as hectic as ever. She also noticed the simple dark blue shirt he was wearing, with the first buttons opened, a sight that prompted her to remember a little detail: a high sensitivity to stuff touching his neck and she smirked at the very thought that he had a weakness about him, almost like his kryptonite and it gave her strength to look up and hold his gaze.

She eventually broke the spell and looked towards the other two people in the room: a woman and another man sitting on either side, framing Yixing. She bowed slightly towards the members of the panel and smiling, she introduced herself. They greeted her and then she suddenly heard him...Yixing was actually talking to her.

“Good morning Miss. I hope it is not too early for you and we appreciate the effort.” He said in beautifully rehearsed English but still carrying the loveliest accent she'd ever heard. She was hooked by how the words were rolling off his tongue and her mind drifted on, thinking how his voice would sound uttering less formal sentences. She came back just in time to hear the other two people introducing themselves:

“Good Morning! My name is Liu Xing”, said the lady, “I am in charge of recruiting.”

“Hello! I am Xang Huao and I am in charge of operations”, said the other man in the room bowing his head respectfully.

“I wouldn’t be able to do anything without Xang Ge, he makes sure everything is working”, said Yixing, tilting his head to get in the camera frame, acting cute and making everyone in the room laugh.

She began her presentation and went through the slides, providing explanations at every stage, motivating her choices of location and set design, selling her idea of having a surreal, dreamlike setting, backed up by some realistic scenes to balance it all. She was articulating the need for attention to location and props and also extras for the actual filming, emphasizing the importance of all elements. She was pacing graciously in front of the laptop making the falling drapes of the dress move in synch with her, like a perfectly rehearsed choreography.

She wasn’t looking at him directly not wanting to get lost in her disobedient thoughts, that kept referencing to those videos and photos of him, showing all his perfect angles, assets and qualities. She paused to take a deep breath and took a glimpse at her interviewers and surprisingly discovered they were enthralled in her speech, especially Yixing. He was leaning forward, his eyes fixed on her and his index finger playing with those cushiony lips of his, captivated and engrossed, nodding in agreement, almost like envisioning what she was describing.

She continued for a short while, without being interrupted and at the end, she paused and asked if there are any questions. After a series of inquests regarding post processing and how she would actually work with the other teams involved, to which she had all answers ready, they seemed ready to close. 

“I think I speak for my team as well when I say that, as far as we are concerned, you have demonstrated that you should definitely be part of this project. The vision and the deep understanding of the creation process that I have invested in this, have been fully demonstrated. I would be honored to have you on my team!” Yixing closed, making her heart start racing erratically.

She wasn’t expecting this sort of feedback. She knew she was good, but she’d always have doubts about her abilities, second guessing everything.

“Thank you very much. It means tremendously coming from someone so talented and with such drive for perfection”, she said tilting her head to the side, making the rebel strands of purple hair dance in the morning light and looking at him she held his gaze for as long as she could. It nearly felt like a staring contest, with neither of them backing down, getting lost in each other’s eyes, neither of them moving or taking a breath, unaware of the people around them and if it wasn’t for the little secretary intervention they would have not stopped.

“We will need some documents from you to arrange the visa and also we will be sending you the contract. Please read, sign and send back,” she said breaking the silence and making everyone relieved that someone said something.

“She will need to accept first”, Yixing said rubbing the back of his neck, with a slight scoff, embarrassed and not knowing where to look, acting cute again as if to distract everyone from the visible awkwardness.

“Would it be possible to see the contract before I start proceedings for the Visa?” She said cautiously but with a firm tone. She was more than overwhelmed by the events and all she wanted was to read it all with a clear mind and not influenced by the excitement of the meeting and of seeing him, because she would’ve caved and signed her life away in a second.

“Of course, you can”, Mr. Xang reassured and Yixing nodded in approval trying not to stare at her again and failing miserably.

“If there is anything else we can help with, our secretary will be at your service to facilitate”, Mrs. Xing said graciously and made way to exit the room, closely followed by Mr. Xang.

“Please wait a second! Don’t hang up just yet”, Yixing instructed and went after them, leaving his secretary in the camera frame.

“Hi!”, she cheerfully waved at the screen. “I thought that was great and they looked like they have already made up their minds about you.” She said and then suddenly covered her mouth realizing that she disclosed too much. The girl was gleaming and her genuine reaction warmed the room, her beautiful dark eyes closing in the space, filling the camera spot. 

“It’s ok. I’m not gonna tell anyone!” She reassured the young secretary. “Especially, not to your boss. He seems very strict!” she concluded, but not being able to keep a straight face after that, she burst in laughter being joined in by the young girl.

She could still hear him talking in his native language, away from the camera and she wondered what they were discussing so ardently. It sounded like he did all the talking, explaining something and not letting the others speak much. When he finally came back in the room he immediately noticed his little secretary and his newly appointed Creative Director giggling and surprised by their instant chemistry he asked:

“What’s so funny?” He quipped raising an eyebrow and making the girls quiet down their laughter, struggling to keep their faces straight.

“Nothing. We were just having a chat”, she said defensively and prompting his little assistant to nod in approval.

“I’ll keep an eye on you two.” He added, squinting his eyes in disbelief and pointing a finger towards them.

He then took a serious stance and clearing his throat he sat at the table again.

“I am happy to announce that the members of the board are extremely excited about you and they have given their approval for you to become part of our team.” Struggling to keep a professional stance, his dimples kept creeping up ruining his serious face, making him eventually give up and smile with all his beautiful features. 

Stunned by his genuine excitement she couldn’t stop wondering what sort of miracle she’d done in a past life to deserve this, to have been given such an opportunity.

“I will need your WeChat username”, he said hastily and when he saw her puzzled, he realized that she has no idea what that is.

“It’s a chat platform”, he went on explaining, “I will need you to set up an account on that, because we will have to keep in touch and send stuff over so... that would be ideal”, he continued, trying to justify his eagerness.

“I will download it now.” She agreed politely and smiled, and she finally sat on her sofa bringing the laptop closer. The sunlight was shining through the living room window, making her hair look alight with a purple haze. She tucked a strand behind her ear and she sighed relieved, trying to process all the events that just happened.

He stood there in perfect silence, as his assistant left the room leaving him on his own. He was captivated by the sudden display of intimacy coming from the woman who a minute ago was a monument of confidence and professionalism.

“Was it difficult?” He asked with genuine concern, prompting her to stop fiddling with some sheets of paper scattered across the coffee table. She looked at him puzzled and surprised by his brazen initiative and he continued:

“The interview. I hope...umm... we haven’t been too difficult.”

“Oh no! Not at all! I mean, it’s expected. You guys want to make sure you have got the best people around you!” She laughed relieved, thinking he is far too kind and considerate for someone so famous.

“I really need to go! Please set up an account on Wechat and add me. I’ll e-mail you my personal id,” he said, pausing for a moment before adding,” umm it’s my private one, so umm…if you could umm…” he just couldn’t find his words and was playing with his earing, obviously frustrated by the inability to voice his concerns.

“Don’t worry Yixing! I won’t share it with anyone! “She reassured, him making his face light up with a gorgeous smile.

“Thank you again for everything.” He added and bowed before closing the call.

After spending countless minutes looking at the wallpaper screen, re-playing mentally the entire morning, she dropped on the sofa squeaking and laughing, still not completely believing that the events actually happened.