"I love you."
I stop the kiss upon hearing those words, locking eyes with her sincerity. But, after barely half a minute, I can't contain my laughter.
"What the heck, hahaha, that was gross, Kiana!" Laughter consumes me, finding it utterly hilarious, even sinking to the floor in amusement. The dressing room buzzes with the scent of makeup and the distant hum of excited chatter.
"W-What?"
I gaze up at her, witnessing her eyes welling with tears and a grimace distorting her face. I straighten up, clearing my throat.
"Get out," I coldly command. Her teary-eyed expression irritates me, but somewhere beneath the surface, a trace of conflict flickers.
"What the hell, Ty! I thought we were okay? I thought we understood each other, and our feelings were mutual? What is this!?"
She rants while I compose myself. "Shut up and go," I coldly repeat. The room feels charged with tension.
"So everything is true, playboy motherfvcking ass!" She storms out, slamming the door, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease.
"Pfftt... as if you taste good, trash."
Playboy.
Heartbreaker.
Rich-ass man.
Pleasure seeker.
Womanizer.
Yeah, that's how they describe me, but who cares anyway? I am me, and I do whatever I want. That's it.
I'm Jax Tyson Park, an idol from the famous band DAGGER. There are seven of us in the group, and we've been together since I was 16. We debuted at 18 and quickly became the most famous group worldwide. Tours, concerts, meet and greets – we've done it all. Acting seems to be the only thing we haven't touched. I'm the main dancer and a lead singer in the group.
"Mr. Tyson!" I hear our manager shout outside the dressing room. "Where did he go again! Tsk!" I chuckle at those words. I open the door, grinning as I wipe off the lipstick on my lips.
"Hello, Manager!" I wave my hand in his face, knowing he's been looking for me. I dash away, realizing our performance is coming up soon. "You're so annoying! Your performance is coming up soon!"
"Bro, what the heck, we've been looking for you since a while ago." Yeah, it's Shaun. Shaun Edevene, our leader. I mess with our manager, but him? No, he's scarier than my mom. "Sorry, Shaun, just having a little conversation with Kiana." I sit in my chair, and my makeup artist begins retouching my makeup. Her touch electrifies me, so I wink at her, making her blush. 'Sigh... girls, girls, girls.'
"Little conversation, huh? Hyung?" 'Hyung' means 'older brother' in Korea, and the one who said it is none other than Callum, our group's youngest, with a playboy streak like mine. Callum Levine. I smirk at him as if saying, 'Are you sure?'
"The next time we have to look for you like this, we will go to the stage without you." Shaun declares coldly.
"Sheesh, that's cold as heck, bro. Fine, I'm sorry. It won't happen again," I say in my usual carefree tone.
