The Rockstar Who Loves Me

Song 3 ♫ The Final Destination

"So I guess at the end of the day I take more from my dad's side of the family than Mom's, and that's why I'm so tall," I said, although the sentence spilled out of my mouth sounding more like it was composed of one single word.

"I mean you're tall, but not that tall," Tae Yang said. He fared a lot better after the same amount of drinks as me, but the subsequent hiccup told me he was still feeling it. Further proof, when he stood up he smacked his head with the ceiling. "Shit, why is the ceiling so low? Did I grow?"

I laughed with my face only because my voice was stuck in my throat.

He swayed as he said, "Show me."

"What?"

He scooted to the hallway and raised his hand to his forehead level. I rose to the challenge with shaky legs. We'd been sitting for like three hours, chugging booze as we waited to be deplaned and the whole experience wasn't conducive to taking any firm steps. I helped myself up with the seat and leaned against it as I stood in front of him, measuring my height against his.

I pointed vaguely at him. "Right back at you. You're what, an inch taller than me?"

Tae Yang scrunched up his face. "Damn, you're right."

Like two upturned turtles, we awkwardly shuffled back to our seats and plopped back on them.

Ever since he opened the first bottle, a dam broke that made us spill random trains of thought and go into the oddest tangents. So far we'd covered food faves and dislikes—a topic where each of us had a lot to say—fashion and style, which led me to the issue of heels and how they made me look like a gorgeous giraffe.

"In any case," he continued, sighing as he made himself comfortable again. "If people can't deal with how tall you are in heels that's their problem."

I nodded. "True, and a lot of guys have that problem, actually."

Ah, shit. I shouldn't have moved my head. Everything was spinning now.

Tae Yang snorted. "Then they can wear platforms."

As the words registered I started giggling, which soon became infectious to him. In the back of my mind, I knew the comment wasn't that funny, but if I didn't laugh I'd start crying and I definitely didn't want to do that.

Nope. I just had to keep talking.

"So," I said, pushing my hair back away from my face. "What do you do for a living, Tae Yang?"

What do you know, alcohol really had helped me learn the correct pronunciation of his name and I enjoyed saying it. It felt like an important word. Something I needed to remember.

He cleared his throat a couple of times as he rolled the sleeves of his sweatshirt up. "Uh, musician."

"Ooooh. Music teacher. That's cool." I squinted at him and his clothes that looked like they cost my annual salary, and added that to the fact he was in first class. "You must be rich, huh?"

He choked in his own saliva.

Waving my hand, I said, "I mean, I don't think music teachers make enough for first class. Am I being rude? Sorry, I really am shitfaced now, thanks."

For the first time since we met, Tae Yang flashed a grin so wide I could see all his pearly whites. "We just bonded over a life or death experience so I'll give you a pass."

"In that case I'll come clean." I shifted around on my seat so I could face him, and so no one else in the cabin could hear my big confession. "I'm only in first class because the airline overbooked my original flight and I raised a huge stink about it, but really I'm from the proletariat. I should be flying with the luggage."