His Stylist Noona

Chapter 13

You spent all weekend trying to understand what had happened at the museum, but the more you thought about things, the less sense it all made. The events of the evening played through your mind on an endless loop, but each time the picture became a bit hazier as another once crystal clear detail began to fade. There were just so many questions that needed answering.

Had it really been obvious that you'd tried to pull him in for a kiss or did you only think it was? Did he actually come closer at first or did you just imagine that? If he was upset with you about what happened, why did he wait for you at the stairs? If he wasn't upset, why didn't he say anything? And what the fuck did that little hand squeeze mean?

Over and over you pondered these questions, but you never seemed to get any closer to finding the answers. Thinking about everything only made you more confused and also more nervous about what would happen when you saw him next. By the time Monday rolled around, you were so anxious and on edge that you had to skip your morning coffee out of fear that you might have an actual heart attack. You walked in from the parking garage as slowly as humanly possible, trying your hardest to delay the inevitable.

You kept telling yourself to relax and breathe and remember that this was Tae. Your Tae. You two had been through so much together and you'd always been OK. Even after the fiasco the night of The Grammys, you'd been OK. You had forgiven him for that night and allowed you both to move on. Surely he could forgive you for this, right?

When you finally reached the studio door you paused for a moment to take a deep breath and give yourself one last pep talk. After determining you were as ready as you were ever going to be, you then walked through and headed over to where he was already waiting in his chair. Once you got there you set your bag down on the counter and immediately began rummaging through it, keeping your back to him. You did this for a few minutes as you tried desperately to calm your racing heart. When you could no longer put it off, could no longer stand to float in the abyss of the unknown, you finally turned to face him.

The sight before you saw stole your breath: Tae, sitting there stiffly, staring intently down at this phone, gripping the side of the chair with his free hand like he was bracing himself for something. After three years of working closely with him, you could read his body language in an instant and what you saw was unmistakable. He was so uncomfortable right now.

You broke the silence with a small 'Hi' to which he simply nodded in reply. When, after a few moments, he still had done nothing else to acknowledge your presence, you let out a long sigh and got to work.

The first time you touched him to start doing his hair, he flinched. Literally, physically, flinched, as your hands had burned him. He had been staring down at his phone when it happened and for that, you were so grateful. Had he been looking at you at that moment he would have seen the absolute devastation flash across your face. Blinking back tears and choking back a sob, you forced yourself to act as if nothing was wrong and kept working.

He didn't look at you once the entire time, instead choosing to keep his gaze fixed on the device in his hand. Even when you did his makeup and his face was turned towards you he still didn't really look at you. He simply looked through you, his eyes glazed and cold as they remained trained at some point in the distance behind you.

When you were finally done getting him ready and he wordlessly left for the interview they had scheduled, you excused yourself, went to the bathroom, and wept.

It was official: your relationship with him was irrevocably broken and so were you.

~~~

A couple of weeks later you were at the staff Festa party taking place on the rooftop patio atop the Big Hit building. It was a relaxed and low-key event; people were just milling about and chatting as they enjoyed drinks from the little bar that had been set up in the corner. There was a makeshift dance floor set up in the middle of the patio and a few people were on it twirling around and having fun. Your ankle still was slightly tender, so dancing was out of the question, but even if it was healed you wouldn't have been joining them. Dancing was a happy thing done by happy people and right now you were anything but happy.