The Double

𝒩𝒾𝓃𝑒

This time when I go to the mirror, Ira stands beside me with a critical eye before pulling out her phone to show a photo of Duna in a similar outfit. I arrange my pose like hers—one foot out and slightly twisted in a move my mom also taught me as a teenager—and turn my face slightly up and to the left with that little smile, then scrupulously check the pose and lower my shoulders a fraction. Ira takes a photo and when we look at it, I think maybe this will work.

"Terrible." Ira taps on her phone.

"What?" Deflated, I move my legs back to my usual slightly hunched stance.

There's a knock on the door and Ira opens it to reveal Taehyung. They whisper together, looking at me, and I try to decide if my better course of action is to pretend I don't know they are very obviously talking about me or to break into their conversation.

Take the bull by the horns.

"Hey. I'm right here."

Taehyung doesn't look at me. "We know." He gives Ira an instruction that causes her to disappear out the side door to Duna's suite, leaving the two of us alone. Taehyung walks by to stand near the window, and when he turns to regard me, I swear the light shifts to pool around him. I've always wondered about charisma, if it really exists, and with Taehyung I can feel an excess of energy that simply makes him more attractive. Duna has it, too, a vitality that draws attention no matter what she's doing.

I hope to God that's something that can be learned, because I sure as hell don't have it.

Beyond that, I can't decide what bothers me about Taehyung . I've seen him often enough in media that he's familiar, but when he stands here in person, it's a whole new ball game.

"You look different from your movies," I say finally. He's sharper, icier than he is in the photos. More unreal looking and far more striking.

"I know," he says dismissively. "Ira says you're hopeless."

I object to this. "'Hopeless' is a little strong."

"You are no judge. Walk for me."

"Why?" I stand my ground.

When he turns, the sun lights one part of his face and shadows the rest like a perfume ad. I groan. "Do you do that on purpose? Pose in the light?" I mimic his stance.

"Of course I do." He pulls his chin up slightly and that's it. I burst out laughing. He's so perfectly arrogant that begin to see him more as a comedic character than a man. He brings his brows together. "Something funny?"

"Not at all."

"Really. Because you're laughing."

"Well, you," I admit. "You're funny. Who does that?"

The knit brows are joined by pursed lips. "Is there a problem in putting your best self forward?"

"I guess not." I clear my throat to change the subject. "Are you honestly here to watch me walk?"

Taehyung comes over from the window and stands in front of me. I'd say he was trying to intimidate me because of how he looks down his nose, but it reminds me of one of his roles—he was a lowly delivery guy who also fought crime—and I can feel my lips twitch, He glares at me as if he knows what I'm thinking. "Duna refuses to let go of this," he says. He looks over my shoulder and chooses his words. "I said I would help."

"If you're looking for ideas, you can help by not being an asshole," I suggest.

"I can help by making sure you don't tarnish Duna's reputation with your ignorance." He leans forward. "I don't like it but I'll do what I can to mitigate the risk to her, even if it means working with you."