Celestine

fifteen // célestine

3 weeks later

I'm withering.

I haven't seen Jungkook since the night after the comeback interview. After the shooting finished, we ate pasta and salted caramel ice cream, laid in his bedroom and talked until 2 a.m. We face time every day, whenever we can, or text in between the breaks I get, but it's not enough.

The day after my comeback interview was already chaos, and the past three weeks have been no different. From one studio to the other. When I get home, drained, I literally pass out. Not only because of work. Because of the environment, lack of fulfillment, lack of joy, lack of good company. Lack of Jungkook's food, too. I've accustomed to it so fast this recording studio food doesn't cut it anymore. Not even the mini croissants.

Before the break, I signed a contract with Brenda's Lipstick – a cruelty-free, vegan cosmetics brand. I signed a tone of unnecessary contracts, and now I'm suffering through consequences. Brenda's Lipstick started from lipsticks, branched out over the past two years. They are a trusted brand, I use their cosmetics myself. The problem is the contract says "6 advertisements over the course of 6 months".

I'm recording them all today.

Six different looks, six different set of lines. Hours and hours of shooting, pictures, "camera and action"s.

With the last page of the script open, I walk down the hall from the dressing room to the set, mumbling two short lines under my breath. My scalp is itchy from pounds of hair spray I've gone through today, but I can't touch it, not to mess up the last hairstyle. I just want to get it done and go home.

"Jeon Jungkook's show is gonna be a massive success, I'm telling you."

Eyes wide, I whip my head back. If I heard it right, someone in the producers' room just said 'Jeon Jungkook's show'. I glue myself to the wall right beside the opened door. Now the last recording has to wait.

Their voices are muffled, but I can make out the most important thing. "Dude, I'm counting on this guy. People are obsessed with cooking shows, and he's one of the best in the field. That's some big cash."

Jeon Jungkook. Cooking show.

Lethargic or not, I rush through this shoot. I get my lines right with the second try, and the poses with the third one. Mentally, I'm already interviewing Jungkook and scolding him for not telling me such a thing. The director yells the last "cut" and I dash out of the set.

Still in the make up from the shoot, I only change into my clothes, pack my bag, tell Alvin I need my schedule empty now and run. With a hood draped low over my head, I take the first turn left, into a less crowded street. Jungkook's still at the restaurant, so I take the subway. I'm in no way willing to walk forty minutes now.

It's already closed for the customers when I walk in. Before I can even search for Jungkook, he's wrapping his arms around me, lifting me off the ground. I ran in buzzing to get to know the truth – if he's really gonna have his own show – but my body freezes now.

It's overwhelming – how much I missed this. How much I need it.

I free my arms one by one and wrap them around his neck, squeezing back. My heart is pounding.

Jungkook lets me down, his chin on my shoulder. "I've missed you," he says. "It's been three weeks."

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "Things are crazy."

"I get it, don't worry." He moves back, smile wide. He hooks his arm around my shoulders and pulls me further in. "Come on, ma chérie. I've got stir fried Udon noodles for you."