Black Love (K/DA x Male Reader)

9 | The Face of a Fool

I sighed, pulling open the glass door in front of me as a rush of cool air from the AC immediately hit my face.

Just walk in and act like you're supposed to be there, she said. Nobody will notice, she said.

From the moment I walked in, what felt like tens to hundreds of eyes all zeroed in on me, narrowing in unspoken scrutiny. I pulled down the brim of my black cap to try to shield my face away at least a little bit.

"Hey, sorry about being late!" she cheerfully greeted, running up to me from the other side. "I realized that if you were with me, it would be a lot easier."

"Akali, you do know that I'm literally not allowed to be here right?" I growled in a low voice, my eyes shifting side to side, warily watching the spectating surroundings.

Indeed, it was K/DA's very own lead rapper that came out. She wore a simple black midriff shirt that ended just barely above the waistband of her similarly black cargo pants, an evidently casual outfit.

She must've been in the middle of practice.

"Eh, who cares? Not like they can force you to not be anywhere," she waved off dismissively.

I swallowed a retort, holding my head with one hand. In the other, I held up a plastic bag.

"So? What did you need these for?" I asked.

She stood on her toes, using a finger to pull open the plastic and peer into the contents of the bag.

"Needed water because we were practicing? What else?" she hummed.

I let the arm holding the bag fall back to my side as Akali turned her back, gesturing for me to follow her. Despite the prickly looks of the others on the floor, I trailed behind the rapper to the elevators.

"Right, because you forgot the most basic necessity during practice," I remarked after her.

We both entered the elevator chamber and turned to face the silvery double doors as it closed. 

"We all make mistakes," she shrugged, pressing the button marked with a bold '4'.

The polished surfaces of the elevator interior practically converted every wall into a fully fledged mirror with how reflective they were. I glanced at the screen at the top right corner, slowly transitioning through each number with every floor the elevator rose through before returning my gaze to the shiny walls where my reflection stood, staring back.

I wasn't oblivious.

Any idol, no scratch that, any sensible person at all would know to bring water for a physically rigorous activity. Running through choreographies for hours on end would no doubt have you thirsting for water within minutes.

That's why when I got a sudden text from Akali asking if I could bring her some bottled water to her agency building, I knew that it was most likely a front for something else. I'm noticing that's a common trend recently.

But for a subject to require such a round-about way of contact, it must be something that's not easily brought up for her. That's fine. I'm not in a rush. I'm not some stupid person that thinks he's the main character of a story and feels the need to run around solving everyone's problems. Akali can figure her own shit out first and then talk about it when she wants.

Accompanied by a quiet chime, the elevator came to a stop as the hefty doors opened, revealing a small open room that led into a one long corridor with several doors lining its sides.

"This way," Akali hummed, taking the lead. "You know, while you're here, you wanna come see our practice?"

I followed after her and, as the echoes of our footsteps resonated through the long hall, raised an eyebrow.