"MINSIK-A? YA, KWON MINSIK."
The young rapper didn't bother to lift his head up from where it was leaning against the tinted windows of the Lincoln SUV. Saying that he was tired would be an understatement. First, their flight had been canceled for three hours in LAX, where him and the rest of the boys had to wait, dizzy with exhaustion and sleep deprivation from the back-to-back nights of performing at different venues in the States. Los Angeles had been the last part of the North America leg of their tour and they had gone all out, wishing nothing but giving their fans the experience they deserved to have at a K-hip-hop concert. However, they didn't think about the aftermath of jumping and running around for hours on a stage, surrounded by screaming females who were eager to hold onto their hands and take pictures, and the speakers blasting their music. The morning after, which also was when they were supposed to fly out, was a mess- getting up late, skipping breakfast, and losing track of their various luggage in an effort to not miss the plane. The twenty hour long flight had given them a significant amount of jet lag, whom of which's effects they felt after they checked into their hotel and just crashed.
If it had been up to Minsik, he would have skipped out on the whole MAMA shit. He didn't care much about award shows where people didn't know him and faked their interest in his music. Nah, fuck that kidz bop shit, he thought once again, cringing internally at the images of overdressed, overworked, underweight, and over caked-up idols, all sitting straight and poised in their pristine clothes flashing through his mind. God forbid they made eye contact or got too friendly with each other. What a mess it would make for the big wigs. A dating scandal? Better make them apologize for simply falling in love. Getting admitted to the hospital for falling because they work twelve hours a day and skip meals and suffer from mental illnesses? They must apologize for being human. Minsik rolled his eyes at the thought of reporters making fake articles out of edited photos of these seventeen, eighteent, sometimes twenty year old kids to get some attention from the public. He once again realized how blessed he was to be in a company that was so open-minded and forward-thinking; it was a place where he could freely express himself and his music and didn't have to shy away from talking about things that weren't exactly family friendly. But that was who he was: he liked his whiskey dry and with extra ice, he cursed when we wanted to and spoke loudly, he was rowdy and straightforward and wasn't shy by any means, and he knew that he was damn good in bed. Why the hell would he let some old man who hadn't performed on stage or written a song in years curb his appetite for success and his suppress his creativity, when he could be himself and be known by the public?
All thoughts aside, Minsik knew how lucky he was to be a part of H1GHR music. If someone had asked him just a few years ago what he was gonna do with his life, he would have said washing dishes at a restaurant or delivering fried chicken. The thought of becoming a multi-million dollar artist, with more accolades and awards he could have known lining the shelves of his home's walls, going on shopping sprees to Balenciaga in Milan and Comme de Garçons in Tokyo, wouldn't have even crossed his mind. As a young and unknown rapper in this gamble, he knew he had to work harder than everyone else, sleep less and eat less, and stay hungry for success. As they passed underneath the looming glass towers of downtown Hong Kong, he thought about the times where he had to sleep in saunas and public baths to save money and sometimes decide between eating or paying the bus fare to get to his small crappy studio apartment in Busan. He survived on cup noodles and cheap triangle kimbap for most of his teenage years, working three jobs to pay for the sessions he booked in the local studio, and sometimes having to sit in subway station because he had missed paying the electricity bill and the heater wouldn't work in his apartment. Not only these, but he had to make everything himself: the packaging for his demos, posters that he painstakingly put on every wall, building, and lamppost he could find in Seoul, and convincing venue owners to let him perform. As he started to get a bit of recognition by joining Yelows Mob, he started sending out his demos to various record labels, waiting anxiously to hear from them. Most of them either rejected him for being so unknown or his style not fitting the label's image, while others flat out did not respond at all.
Never in a million years would he have guessed that no one other than Jay fucking Park himself got a hold of one of his demos and decided to give him, a tall and brusque kid with no connections and nothing except for his talent and confidence and hunger for success, a chance. At first he thought it was scam: surely it couldn't be Jay Park's representative who reached out to him one morning in July, asking if he would be up for a meeting with the man, the myth, the legend himself. Only after one of his group mates from Yelows convinced him to put his pride to the side and take this opportunity did he decide to go. Minsik put on his best clothes and cologne, grabbed some copies of his other demos, said a quick prayer, and booked his way over with shaking hands and trembling knees. And true enough, there Jay Park stood, prim and handsome and looking every inch like the boss he was, more handsome and young then Minsik ever imagined. Minsik would have had a heart attack without a doubt, but the warm eyes and firm handshake Jay had reassured him. After a few hours of talking and discussing what Minsik wanted, Jay lay out the contract in front of him and there he was now; dressed in an Armani suit and wearing a Rolex Sky-Dweller, riding in a Lincoln to yet another business meeting.
Only this time, it was different. This time, it wasn't going to be in a room full of old men but a group of bright and respected artists like himself who wanted to be creative and show their true selves in an industry where artists were primped and dolled-up, molded into a certain shape, abused and neglected and used beyond exhaustion without their needs and requests heard and creativity pushed away from sight.
The dull throbbing ache behind his eyes from having a late night brought Minsik back to reality. He wiped at his eyes, cursing his friends internally for making him stay with them the entire party. Although he was a party person himself and never shied away from the free alcohol and the prospect of hooking a pretty girl to his arm to take to the hotel for the night, he just wasn't in the mood last night for any of it. He had been far from it actually, and the other guys couldn't understand why he was in such down spirits when there had been a good number of models and influencers asking for his phone number or hinting at having a good time. All he wanted to do was to knock back some Tylenol and just hit the bed to sleep away the migraine that had been splitting his brain apart for a good chunk of the day.
He wasn't in a party mood until he met her, that is.
Minsik couldn't call himself a saint, that would be a lie. Everybody knew that he had his fair share of partners and one-time things. Most of them had not been serious, just either a month or two long until they were both exhausted and bored with each other and wanted something else. Minsik didn't feel sad when a girl announced they wanted to break up; in fact, he was used to it by numb, and the words "I think we should spend time away" only brought a dull ache with them. He felt numb to the pain heartbreak caused and rather focused on the more important things in his life, such as when the next tour will be and when to release the new album. He did not have all the time in the world for pretty, shiny, temporary things in life anymore. But, my God, did he want her last night.
Minsik didn't even know who the girl was. For all he knew she could have lied during their entire conversation, either out of fear of having a potential stalker or because she was too polite to turn him down. But she wasn't either of those, that much he knew. Her words were sure and flowed smoothly, her eyes not flitting, and her stance confident as they stood side by side on the balcony. She knew what she was talking about and from what he felt, she was interested in who he was. Or at least intrigued to know more. Whatever it was, there was a reason why she didn't leave the balcony sooner. Minsik pictured her heart-shaped face in his mind, remembering the moonlight colored contacts she wore and how the dark colored dress complemented the softness of her skin. Her eyes were warm and trusting, putting him at ease instantly. It was odd really, that he felt unsure about being around a female for the first time: she didn't throw herself at him and there weren't any unwanted touches. It was as if she just wanted to smoke and talk, enjoy the moment and stare out into the glittering skyline that lay beneath them. She wasn't looking for a quick fuck or carrying the conversation back to his hotel room, preferably under the sheets. She was just...herself.
Minsik felt his heart give an odd tug at the thought and how nice it felt to meet a different kind of person for once.
"Ya, Kwon Minsik, can't you hear me?" He heard Junwon call once again, almost leaning out of his seat to reach across to him.
"Yeah, what? What is it?" Minsik turned around, his voice lower than his friend's. Junwon was one of the first people he had met after moving to Busan from Toronto. He had been signed to H1GHR after Minsik and the latter appreciated knowing at least one person in the company.
"The boys are talking about going to a club tonight. You up for it?" The older male said, hushing down the younger rappers who were having a bit too much with their phones. Minsik couldn't help but give a small smile at their interaction; Haon's bunny smile and scrunched up eyes, Woojae's voice filled with happiness...They were living the life Minsik had to scrape with his nails to have when he was their age. He wasn't jealous, but it still amazed him how much more comfortably his friends lived compared to the conditions he had in his youth.
Minsik scratched the back of his neck, feeling his nails catch the silver chain of his necklace. "I don't know, man. I'm still beat from last night, I don't think I can take one more day of the same shit."
His words must have been loud enough, because in an instant the back seat of the car fell silent. Haon and Woojae were looking at him in disbelief, Hwimin and Gyujeong and Jaewook staring at him with a shocked expression on their faces.
"Um, I don't fucking think so?" Hwimin chimed in. "We have been looking towards this like before we even came here."
"And we already planned this outing before and you said yes, if I remember correctly. So you can't butt out." Gyujeong said, earning a nod from Woojae.
"I don't know guys, I'm really not feelin' the whole party situation-"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, man," Hwimin rolled his eyes, "you've been like this since last night. Since when did you say no to a party?"
"And the opportunity to finally meet a girl? Yeah, what happened to the old Kwon Minsik because I sure as hell want him back." Jaewook added.
"Guys, let's not push him if we doesn't want to come with," Junwon finally said, "he can at least come to the dinner and then head back to the hotel. He was already on tour before this so needs some rest, hm?"
"Oh, c'mon, hyung. It won't be the same without you." Haon spoke up, his puppy eyes trained on Minsik. Even though he was 17 years old, Haon was the youngest member of the company and therefore the most doted on. Everyone in the team considered him a younger brother, spoiling him with souvenirs and magnets from countries they traveled to during tour, buying him an extra plate of meat when they went out to eat, and gifting him with new shoes and shirts even though there wasn't a special occasion in place. Haon looked up to Minsik more than the others and favored him too. He never failed to bring up how he wanted to have a body like Minsik and had even started working out with the latter. Minsik in return cared for him just as much, giving him as much feedback as possible on his demos and overstaying at the studio just to make sure a track was perfect before it was added into an album. So, when Haon was staring at him with so much eagerness, Minsik knew he couldn't say no to him.
"Fuck it, I'm coming." He shrugged, trying his best to not smile as the others cheered on him.
"You're the best hyung!" Haon reached over, hugging him awkwardly over his shoulders. Minsik patted the young boy's forearms, chuckling to himself.
...
The drive wasn't long, but the traffic had kept them stuck in place for quite some time. So, when they finally reached the building where the meeting would be held, the boys flung their doors open, rushing to get inside as quickly and efficiently as possible. The security guards assigned to them had been following behind closely in another car and immediately got out when they spotted the younger men. Minsik and the others payed attention to not scuffing their shoes and tripping over their own feet, which they thankfully didn't. After walking through the large glass doors, going through security, and hitting the eleventh floor button when they got in the elevator, everyone took in a deep breath of air. Luckily they were just about on time: none of them liked to be late to important meetings, much less a meeting organized by the man who was the head of their company. Minsik wiped at his forehead, the barely-there perspiration warm on his cool hands.
The conference room was straight across from them when they got off the elevator, and even though the doors were closed, Minsik could hear the murmur of people chattering from the other side. He could picture the room filled with older men in suits and their assistants rushing about with clipboards, eager to note down what they said. He suddenly felt bad for the petite girls in the pencil skirts and cat heels, running around either on coffee errands or fixing up folders.
"Geez, how many people are in there?" Hwimin said, tugging down the lapels of his jacket to smooth them down. His hair sparkled like gold under the fluorescent ceiling lights.
Jaewook shrugged in response. "Probably the entirety of AOMG. I wonder if Hoody is here?"
"You bet she is, she's one of the boss' best. No way in hell she would miss this meeting." Junwon said, remembering a few instances he had been able to see the gorgeous rapper perform live. Her charm and the way she dominated the stage had blew his mind. He could easily say she was one of his women crushes and an artist he was dying to meet.
"What about that other rapper, Heize? She is also with AOMG, so she would be here too, right?" Hwimin asked to no one in particular.
"You mean the chick who broke up with Seyoon? Nah, man, fuck her. She doesn't even deserve half of the fame she has." Jaewook scoffed, brushing away the topic with a wave of his hand.
"You can say that again," Woojae perked up. "First she sleeps around with some other dude, then she expects people to pity her because she had some alcohol and weight problems? Nah, miss me with that bullshit."
"Guys, c'mon, I'm sure there is more to it than that." Haon muttered softly. "We don't even know her that well to speak this way."
Although he tried his best to shut out the comments, Minsik knew he had to say something. He didn't know who this Heize was, but he would never let a female be put down by anyone, no matter the person making the shaming remarks.
"Since when did you guys judge a woman based on her sex life? The last time I checked your records weren't so clean in the hook up department either, but you don't see me other Haon or someone else judge you based on that, do you?" Minsik deadpanned, his voice icy cold and eyes unforgiving.
"What the fuck?" Hwimin swore, his expression taken aback. "Who is she even to you? Isn't there this rule that says bros before hoes or something?"
"Woah, chill man," Woojae laughed nervously. "We didn't mean anything-"
"Yeah? Then don't say shit you don't mean. You should know this by now, considering we are in an industry where people twist our words and use them against us." Minsik said, one hand placed on the door of the conference room. "Unless we want our careers to be marked by gossip and rumors, I suggest we be civil and go in here with an open mind. Anyone who thinks differently can leave now and take the next plane back to Seoul without a place in the upcoming next two years' tours. Understood?"
The deadly silence in the hallway convinced him that was all that needed to be said. With a satisfied nod, Minsik opened the door. Almost instantly, he was greeted by silence as the other boys walked in behind him, lining themselves up in the middle of the room to see everyone else. Minsik walked in last, followed by Junwon who shut the door and walked right up next to him. It felt good to see the members of the other company stare at them like they were gods descended on earth, gracing their lives with their presence. Minsik bit back a tiny smirk making its way onto his face, his eyes trained on the window behind the long table in the middle. From somewhere in the room, he heard Kim Songpil, the sleazy bastard he is, make hasty introductions. Minsik vaguely remembered bowing down and the breathless voice of a female and the clinking of jewelry before he felt his heart almost stop dead in his chest. A gust of cold wind suddenly filled the room, raising goosebumps along his skin as it crawled up. He blinked, trying to make sure he wasn't seeing what he thought he saw wrong. No, the person sitting in front of him looked too much like her. It had to be her. Because it was her.
There, sitting like a frightened deer in the chair opposite of the table acting as a barrier between them, was the girl he almost kissed last night. She looked even more beautiful in the natural lighting of the room, her skin dewy and glowing. And yet she looked terrified, frozen cold when he made eye contact with her.
Putting the blame on his confidence and bravado, Minsik felt himself move without a second thought, crossing the room and moving about the chairs to get to the other side.
And the girl just stared at him, unable to move, unable to speak and excuse herself, as he inched closer.
___________
IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME AGAIN SINCE I LAST UPDATED, I KNOW, BUT BEING A SENIOR IN HIGH SCHOOL IS HARD. ANYWAYS, I'M GLAD TO HAVE GOTTEN THIS CHAPTER OUT BEFORE IT DRAGGED ON. I HOPE TO PUBLISH MAYBE ONE, MAXIMUM TWO MORE, CHAPTERS THIS WEEK IF NOTHING GETS IN THE WAY. IN THE MEANTIME, I HOPE YOU'VE ENJOYED THIS.
REMEMBER TO VOTE, COMMENT, AND ADD TO YOUR LIBRARIES PLEASE! IT MEANS A LOT(: