Translations:
"mon amour" is "my love"
"non, merci" is "no, thank you"
"merci" is "thank you"
"bonjour" is "hello"
"excusez-moi" is "excuse me"
"mon chére" is "my dear"
"mon Dieu" is "my God"
~ ~ ~
Nothing is the way it used to be. My entire universe shifted in one split second – how am I expected to survive? My life before the accident feels like an unreal paradise compared to the torture I now face every day. I was assured that my parents would be with me forever, but they broke their promise after a single accident. They said they loved me, but they did not love me enough to stay. Everything is different now that they are gone. Daily life feels like a sharp jerk back into reality.
I tuck a loose strand of dark brown hair behind my ear and bite down on my lip. Is it possible to go from a pirouette straight into a flying pas de chat? I am tempted to stand up in the middle of the bustling coffee shop and try it for myself, but I would probably knock a table over. Gosh, I can barely pay for a cup of coffee, much less a table.
"Excuse me, mademoiselle, would you like another coffee?" a waiter asks politely, glancing down at my notepad filled with French words and scribbles. I know his name is Danny – that is what another waitress called him when she was delivering a latte macchiato to a man sitting alone at a corner table – but he does not know my name. I prefer keeping to myself.
"Non, merci," I say quietly before looking back down at my notes and crossing out "pirouette --> flying pas de chat". If I find the combination difficult, young dancers will render it impossible.
The waiter seems to be struggling with an internal conflict before he turns around and heads back to the kitchen. When he returns, he is holding a fresh cup of espresso coffee with an intricate design of cream drawn across the top.
"It is on the house," he says with a kind smile.
For some reason, it never surprises me when people are kind. You would assume I feel differently after all the people who have looked at me with disappointment in their eyes, but it does not. Humans are meant to be kind; they only have to find it within themselves.
"Merci," I say with a small smile, accepting the cup. "I appreciate it."
"It is not a problem. I just felt like it was the right thing to do." Someone might misconceive his kindness and assume his motives stem from pity. That may be a piece of it, but I can tell from the sparkle in his eye that he enjoys spreading kindness.
"How sweet of you to take care of my client while I am away," a red-haired woman coos, sitting down opposite me as if she owns the table. Technically, she could own the whole shop – she is certainly rich enough to.
Danny is at a loss for words as he stares at her. I have noticed she tends to have that effect on people – she has an air of superiority about her, but she has not sacrificed any of her attractiveness or femininity. Her white pantsuit exudes power, but in a place like this, it is waiting to be spilled on.
"What, enjoying the view?" she scowls at Danny, removing her sunglasses dramatically. "Take a picture – it will last longer."
"My apologies, mademoiselle," Danny says so quickly that his words slur together. His face flushes bright red, and he runs back to the kitchen as quickly as his short legs will allow.
"Bonjour, Tammy," I greet her quietly, sipping my new coffee. It carries the perfect balance of cream and sugar to coffee – I can tell Danny put effort into making this perfect.
"Oh, baby, don't sound so upset. I have some big news for you." Her brown eyes are glittering with excitement.
"Does big news also mean good news?"
"That depends on how you look at it."
"Tammy, please don't tell me you dragged me into another gig."
"This is so much bigger than a gig, honey. This will change the course of your life."
"But you are dragging me into it, aren't you?"
"Cherisse, love, I have looked out for you since you moved to Paris. In the year you have been here, you got yourself a job at a dance studio and a decent apartment right across from it. Who helped you gain both of those?"
"You," I murmur. The dark coffee's warmth coats the back of my throat. Even though it is twenty-five degrees outside and Tammy is fanning herself with a red and gold Japanese fan she picked up during a business meeting in Asia, I love the warmth of coffee.
"Exactly. You know, I used to be one of Madame Beaumont's students, too, and she treated me the same way she treated you – as a daughter."
"You love telling me that."
"That is because it is the only thing that connects us, baby, and if you are going to understand why I got you this job, you have to trust my judgment."
I choke on my coffee. "J-job?"
"Don't get so excited, love. Yes, a job. A paying job."
"How much?"
"More than I make – I will tell you that," she scoffs.
My hands start to shake so badly I have to set down my coffee cup. "That good, huh?"
"Better."
"T-that sounds great and all, but what about my dance students? Some of them are extremely close to me, and I don't want them to feel as though... well, as though I abandoned them."
"Sentiment and emotions never got anyone anywhere in this world." Tammy shifts her fan to her left hand when the right gets tired of the repetitive motion.
"Tammy, I don't want them to feel like..." My voice cuts out with a small sob, but she understands. I don't want them to feel like I did.
"Baby, I understand. Believe me, I do. Moreover, I have already taken care of them – you have an alibi and a top dance instructor for the kids. Trust me when I say she is good at what she does – I danced with her in New York. Right now, honey, your priority is your new job."
I swallow hard. "Could you please tell me what the job is before I start shifting my priorities?"
"Yes, of course. So, I was talking to another one of my clients. I cannot disclose his name, of course – confidentiality agreements and such – but he works under this South Korean entertainment company called BigHit."
"BigHit?" I frown. "I don't think I have ever heard of that."
"Excusez-moi, could I get a low-fat caramel frappe with extra cream and sugar?" Tammy calls out to a waitress I recognize as Penny. She spends a lot of her free time reading in the kitchen, a quality her boss isn't particularly fond of, but her ability to brew delicious coffee makes up for it.
"I am sorry, mademoiselle, but we don't have a low-fat option for that coffee," Penny says quietly, ducking her head so her short auburn hair falls in waves over her cheeks.
"No low-fat option? Am I going to have to complain or are you going to find a way to make me a low-fat caramel frappe with extra cream and sugar?" Tammy demands.
Penny flushes in embarrassment as many customers glance our way, seemingly eager to watch the waitress' humiliation. I know that it is merely a human tendency to watch loud scenes.
"It is okay, Penny," I say gently. "She will take whatever you have."
"Y-yes, mademoiselle," the girl stutters, casting me an appreciative glance before hurrying back to the kitchen.
"Mon Dieu, someday I am going to have to open a coffee shop of my own," Tammy huffs. "No one knows how to make a coffee right."
I sigh but decide against shaking my head at her. I don't want her to think I am judging her actions. Goodness knows how many people have judged me in the past.
"Anyways, about the entertainment company?"
"Yes, yes. My client – Hyun, his name is – was telling me about his experience with BigHit. 'They are looking for a choreographer,' he told me, 'for this band called BTS'."
I frown. "I don't think I have ever heard of BTS."
"Have you heard of Vanessa Paradis?"
"...no."
"That is why, baby. You live under a rock."
I duck my head subconsciously. "I just don't want to be noticed."
"You will have to seriously reevaluate your persona to excel at this job, then. This band – BTS – is becoming quite popular worldwide. You won't exactly be in the spotlight but working with idols as famous as BTS makes stardom nearly unavoidable. Even I have found myself slipping into the BTS fandom; Jimin is unquestionably my bias."
I bite my lip to hide the smile from spreading to my face. Even though I am sure Tammy is not referring to my Jimin, the name still strikes a chord in me. "Who is your what?"
"Oh, you will understand when you meet him. It's easy to see why their popularity is spreading – what more does the world want than an attractive boy band that can sing and dance?"
"Well, if they can dance, then why do they need a choreographer?"
Tammy grimaces. "They tried the whole do-everything-yourself routine – BigHit and I would agree that it didn't work. They need someone like you who can communicate with them in their native language – Korean – and has experience in every form of dance. You are perfect for this role, Cherisse."
I look down shyly. "I... I don't think so."
"Baby, it would take me an hour to list all the types of dance you have studied. They primarily stick with hip-hop infused with lyrical jazz routines in their choreography, but you have plenty of freedom to do whatever you want as long as it makes them look good."
"This sounds like a great opportunity but I just... I don't know. I need a little time to process all this."
"Understandable," Tammy says with a nod towards Penny as she places a tall coffee in front of the woman.
"I made you a tall caramel frappe with low-fat cream and sugar. I hope it is all right."
Because the girl is wringing her hands nervously and I can't read the expression on Tammy's face – a worrisome indication – I step in.
"Merci, Penny, that's perfect."
The girl nods timidly but pauses before she can turn away. "I have seen you around here every day for about a year, haven't I?"
"Yes," I reply.
A gentle smile lifts at the corners of her lips. "I hope you know just how much your kindness means to us all. A lot of us are going through difficult times, and you make our lives a whole lot better. I don't want to overstep my boundaries, but you are a very kind person, mademoiselle."
I am too shocked to smile. I don't understand how anyone could say so many good things about me after all the negativity I have faced in the past. I do hope that my kindness will bring out the best in everyone, but I never expected to hear that it would help this much.
"Well, uh, t-thank you. I am glad to know I am helping a little, I guess."
"You are helping a lot, mademoiselle. I can tell you are trying to make the world a better place, and that is a very admirable quality." I smile shallowly. She is only seeing what is right in front of her – not what is beneath it. The world is already a good place, but we have to find it. After all the grief I have faced, no one would expect me to have such a positive outlook on the world, but Madame Beaumont taught me to love the world for what it is and not how I would like it to look. Chances are, it is already right there, hidden by a façade of war and misery.
"How noble," Tammy drawls, rolling her eyes as the waitress scurries back to the kitchen. "How kind."
I shake my head. "I don't know what she was talking about. I'm not kind to make the world a better place – I am kind so people can appreciate the world as it is."
"You are a sweet kid, Cherisse, and I love you like a sister, but you can be so naïve sometimes. The world sucks, and kindness never got anybody anywhere substantial."
I frown. I cannot entirely agree with Tammy's statement, but I don't want her to feel as though her opinion is invalid, so I keep my thoughts to myself. It seems like I am living in a world where everybody is so focused on our downfalls that they completely miss the beauty in our nature. It is as if everyone chooses to be blind.
"So, how long do I have until I start my new job?"
"You have two weeks."
"Do I have to sign anything?"
"No – I have signed everything for you."
I furrow my brow. "I don't think it works that way."
She shifts in her seat. "I had to pull a few strings, but it does now. I also purchased a flight ticket for you for the 19th at 10:00 a.m. You had better be at the airport by 9:00 or I'll have your head."
"B-but where am I going?"
"South Korea."
"What?" I hiss, unable to believe that she would fly me halfway across the world on such short notice.
"Did I stutter?"
"No, but–"
"Mon amour, you have much preparation to do for this job, so we cannot waste time with ifs, ands, or buts. All the information you could ever want about this job has been emailed to your inbox, including your flight details because I know how forgetful you can be. Oh, and I uploaded every interview, music video, live performance, and dance practice the band has ever done. It will probably take up half the data on your computer." She laughs melodically.
"But this is moving so fast..."
"As it should. You are going to get paid big bucks, sweetie."
"But my students..."
"And I told you, they have already been taken care of." She slaps a fifty-dollar bill on the table and jabs a finger towards the cup of coffee. "You can send that back – tell them I didn't care for it."
"You didn't even try it."
"That does not matter. I am an unsatisfied customer – and you are a dance choreographer. Get ready to meet the stars, baby, because you will soon be one of them." With that last dramatic line, she slips on her sunglasses and blows me a kiss before sauntering out to her silver BMW.
I sigh and drop my head to my hands. This situation is too much for anyone to process in one day. I have no idea how I will survive life under the spotlight. I don't care what Tammy says – if something could potentially expose my past to the world, I want nothing to do with it. The problem is, after all that Tammy has done to ensure the job as BTS' choreographer is mine, I don't see any way to get out of it.
~ ~ ~
A/N: Thank you for reading! If there is any confusion, the temperature measurements in this book will be written in Celsius. In this case, 25 degrees Celsius equates to around 77 degrees Fahrenheit.