"What are you wearing?" Mr. Canzoni asked as he let the band into their hotel room. It was a large suite with several rooms, so everyone had their own... except for him, he had already been told that he only got the couch.
Looking up from the jacket his eyes kept straying too as the door closed, Teller forced himself to hide the smile he didn't doubt kept slipping onto his lips on the drive over. "Someone lent it to me at the airport." He said, not wanting to give away too much information if he could help it. He wasn't sure how Mr. Canzoni would react if he knew that he'd gotten hurt, then helped, by Ello.
"Someone just lent you that? It looks expensive... take it off."
Wait, what?
"Don't give me that look. You're way too prone to accidents. You'll destroy it. Give it to me."
Without thinking, Teller stepped back. "I can't. It's not mine." He said, already knowing that his excuse wouldn't help. Mr. Canzoni was starting to turn red, like he always did when Teller said anything that wasn't yes sir.
"You are supposed to barely be seen! You can't go around wearing something that looks that expensive! And those sunglasses, too. Where's your old pair? Those look like they cost a lot, too."
Honestly, Teller hadn't even thought about the price of the items he'd been given. He had no real reason to. He never planned on keeping them, or doing anything but making sure they remained in good condition and returning them.
"They were also lent to me when my other ones broke. I need to return them." He said right before Mr. Canzoni snatched the glasses off his face.
Teller wanted to grab them back, but didn't want to earn a second black eye. "These are made by Gentle Monster. Just who the hell did you run into that they had this kind of money for a simple pair of sunglasses?" He asked as he slid the glasses onto his own face after removing his own crummy pair.
When Teller didn't respond, but just looked down, Mr. Canzoni grabbed his chin and yanked it up. "Answer me, boy. Who did you get these items from?"
"Better talk, kid. You don't want to get even more bruises for being an idiot." Ike said as he walked back into the den area with the other band members behind him.
They were all grinning, used to his predicaments and beatings by their manager. Hell, sometimes they used him as a punching back, too, but thankfully there were rules. He couldn't sing if he was half dead.
"I..." Teller stuttered, blinking back tears that only made the band converge on him more, snickering. One of them slipped behind him while Ike leaned forward and yanked the zipper on Tay-Yun's jacket down. The man behind him jerked it off his shoulders, nearly making Teller stumble into Mr. Canzoni.
"That'll look good on you, Davis." Ike said to the slightly shorter boy with blond hair, as he stepped back to stand beside Mr. Canzoni, arms crossing over his chest with a smirk on his face.
Teller wanted to yell at them. To tell them that they had no right taking Tay-Yun's things, but like usual, he couldn't find the courage to take the beating that would come with the reprimand.
"If we didn't have a show soon you'd have a matching pair of eyes for this. Now get busy practicing." Mr. Canzoni said as he shoved Teller toward the sofa. "We're going out. The song set better be perfect by the time we get back after all the practicing we'd done back in America." He said before gesturing for the boys to follow him out of the hotel.
The words and numbers inked onto his arm almost felt as if they were beginning to burn and his hands turned numb from nerves as he rolled back the sleeve of his blood-stained jacket to read the writing. They actually took Tay-Yun's stuff... And it was probably extremely expensive, too. There was no way he could afford to buy even one of the items back, let alone two. Not to mention the possible sentimental value they might have. He could rarely remember a photo of Tay-Yun that didn't show him wearing at least the jacket.
Grabbing his hair, he tugged on the strands as he paced over to the window, then began circling while his panic built. So much for a positive experience. Now I have to tell him that his items were stolen and I can't afford to replace them!
Numbly, he walked into the bathroom and shrugged off his ruined jacket into the garbage. That's the only one I brought, too. He'd only been allowed his carry-on, and he hadn't planned on ruining the jacket so soon... or at all, really.
Staring into the mirror, Teller licked his lips and reached up to brush his fingers over the discolored skin around his eye. He couldn't even remember what he'd done wrong to earn the injury, or if he had even done anything at all, and Mr. Canzoni had just been in a bad mood and decided to take it out on him.
Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to calm his nerves, Teller fished his phone from his pocket and dialed his grandmother's number. He'd had to buy her a cell phone after she was admitted to the hospital, because she didn't believe in having one with a landline. She picked up on the fourth ring, making him sigh with relief.
"Hello, grandma." He greeted, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could muster.
He could hear the machines monitoring her in the background before she replied with a frail, yet excited tone. "Hello, my sweet little Teller. Do tell me what you've been up to?"
Her little joke about his name always made him smile. "I've been good. I'm finally visiting Korea!" He said cheerfully, earning a hoot from his grandmother.
"I'm so proud of you! You've been wanting to go for so long!" Her excitement halted abruptly as she coughed hard a few times, but she continued right after she was able to catch her breath. "Is it beautiful? Have you been able to talk to some people there yet? Did you try the Kimbap or any of those other dishes you were so excited about?"
Sliding down the wall to sit against it as she spoke, Teller took in her words like a balm on his tired mind. His headache faded to the back of his thoughts as he told her that he hadn't gotten quite that far yet and was just going to relax at the hotel till the next morning, since he wasn't permitted to leave, anyways.
"Oh come now. Since when do you waste an opportunity! Get your backside out there and enjoy the day!" She chided, earning a quiet laugh from him that happened to slip out before he could catch it.
"Alright, alright. I'll give it a try. I guess I'm just nervous." He said, an idea hatching in his brain at his grandmother's words.
"I'm glad. Now get your butt out there. It's late here, but I know that it's probably early morning or afternoon there, so don't waste the day away. Push through that jet lag."
Giving another chuckle, Teller replied. "Yes ma'am. Get some rest, grandma. I'll call you soon."
"Good night, Tell. Enjoy yourself." She said before the line went dead.
He sat staring at the phone for a long while before blowing out a breath and pushing himself to his feet. "Well, you have no sunglasses and your jacket is useless." Teller mumbled as he eyed himself in the mirror. When his attention focused on the small circular pin in his hair, his eyes widened a fraction.
What if...
Hesitantly, he reached behind his head and pulled his hair back, then secured it with a tie he kept in his pocket. Leaving some of his bangs free, he then dug into his bag for the small amount of makeup he'd been forced to bring.
"Never thought I'd actually want to use this stuff outside of working." He told himself as he began adding thin layers of concealer and blush to his face. His injured eye was hard to fade, but after about ten minutes working on it, it looked much less noticeable.
