Rouge
dawn & glimpses
It was another sleepless night. They were all staring out the tinted windows with strained eyes, the blinding daybreak of morning stinging their sleep deprived eyes. They recurred to wearing sunglasses even inside the vehicle, their sensitive eyes too weak to sustain the sun’s glare. Yet, as much as it burned and hurt, they had grown accustomed to it. They had adapted to such an extent, that the word sleep was a luxury and blessing. And in that car, everyone was making sure they made the best of it.
Well, everyone except two.
Time dwindled and faded inside the moving van, the steady movement of the car putting them all at ease. They were going back to their dorms; back to that small apartment to be nicely tucked away from the fans and the media, safe for even just a moment. But they were so tired, so worn, so distracted, they were unimaginably grateful just to be in the car by themselves.
Cell phones turned off, iPod’s plugged, and mute deals, they would settle into that comfortable –and more than needed- silence they all yearned. It was peace, even for a few hours. It was peace. They made the best of it. And if anyone did say something out loud, that person better hope for all its holy that it’s worth the risk.
“We’re here, wake up.”
The only two members that were wide awake simply breathed in deeply, both relieved they were home (or the closest thing they could call as such) and irritated because they’d have to leave the van’s comfort. The other three boys, however, openly groaned and cursed, removing their arms from their eyes and hissing more obscenities through sleep groans.
The youngest one peered out the windows, trying to discern the time. The sun was softly peeking through the tall buildings. “Hyung-yah, what time is it?” They were all grabbing their phones and jackets in the dark, some of them smudging their eyeliner with their knuckles. They were simply too exhausted.
“Five. You all have an interview at nine.” The sturdy man clicked off his seatbelt and got out of the car, a sharp gust of cold air entering the van. They all cringed. It was worse when the van’s side door slid open. “Everyone is to wake up at nine, except G.O, he has an appointment at seven for backstage information on his solo debut.” The man didn’t wait for a response –or lack of thereof- and walked towards the van’s trunk to get the bags.
One by one, they slowly got out of the vehicle, making sure their faces were covered with a scarf and their eyes with their signature sunglasses. Only one member preferred to use a cleaning mask over scarves. As he once said, it was his ‘thing.’ No one else said anything. Instead, they all looked up at the ordinary building, inwardly sighing at the need to be kept hidden from the media. Ever since they gained popularity, privacy had turned into a myth. But their quick thinking manager came up with a solution, and it involved moving into a desolate area with undercover names. They would’ve felt like spies; if it weren’t for the plaguing exhaustion that haunted them.
“Mir, you’re sleeping on the couch again.”
Nobody heard a squeak of complaint, as was expected from the maknae. Instead, they all grabbed their respectful bags and climbed up the stairs to their new apartment. From what they understood, the only people inhabiting the building were seniors. The company had promised a single apartment for each, but then informed them that the plan was placed on a brief hiatus because of ‘financial complications’. Which they all knew was bullshit, but kept real quiet about it. At least they didn’t have to sleep with their manager.
The most striking blonde of the group leaned on the van’s side, his hair past its concert prime and awkwardly falling in front of his eyes. He was staring holes through the touch-pad screen, trying to remember why he took out his cell phone out at all. And it was during those confusing seconds that he heard the unmistakable slam of a car’s door. And naturally, he looked.
He was immediately thrown off.
Standing right in front of a taxi was a redhead. Not that tall, but definitely taller than most girls. He coughed into his red scarf, feeling the cold air gnaw his bones. The other members were dutifully entering their bags one by one, up and down the stairs, not once saying a word other than the accustomed blasphemy. And he didn’t move a finger, after all, he was the leader.
He kept staring, far too tired to make sense of things, but knowing one thing perfectly well. “Hyung,” he called out, “who’s that girl?” He was determined to not be transferred to another place, just because a young girl could identify them and bring up the onslaught of fans and media. His manager looked up and squinted at the girl who was, too, entering her bags into the officetel prefecture that was located besides them. From the looks of it, she was dead beat tired herself.
“Nobody I assume, just a oegug-in (foreigner).” The man shrugged his thick shoulders and hefted another bag over them, walking back into the apartment. The blonde tucked away his mobile, reaching down to pick up his laptop’s case. He glanced one more time at the girl, only to be able to see a glimpse of her vibrant red hair before she disappeared into the building. He adjusted his red scarf and followed Hyung with a hidden smile.
Red had always been his lucky color.
Well, everyone except two.
Time dwindled and faded inside the moving van, the steady movement of the car putting them all at ease. They were going back to their dorms; back to that small apartment to be nicely tucked away from the fans and the media, safe for even just a moment. But they were so tired, so worn, so distracted, they were unimaginably grateful just to be in the car by themselves.
Cell phones turned off, iPod’s plugged, and mute deals, they would settle into that comfortable –and more than needed- silence they all yearned. It was peace, even for a few hours. It was peace. They made the best of it. And if anyone did say something out loud, that person better hope for all its holy that it’s worth the risk.
“We’re here, wake up.”
The only two members that were wide awake simply breathed in deeply, both relieved they were home (or the closest thing they could call as such) and irritated because they’d have to leave the van’s comfort. The other three boys, however, openly groaned and cursed, removing their arms from their eyes and hissing more obscenities through sleep groans.
The youngest one peered out the windows, trying to discern the time. The sun was softly peeking through the tall buildings. “Hyung-yah, what time is it?” They were all grabbing their phones and jackets in the dark, some of them smudging their eyeliner with their knuckles. They were simply too exhausted.
“Five. You all have an interview at nine.” The sturdy man clicked off his seatbelt and got out of the car, a sharp gust of cold air entering the van. They all cringed. It was worse when the van’s side door slid open. “Everyone is to wake up at nine, except G.O, he has an appointment at seven for backstage information on his solo debut.” The man didn’t wait for a response –or lack of thereof- and walked towards the van’s trunk to get the bags.
One by one, they slowly got out of the vehicle, making sure their faces were covered with a scarf and their eyes with their signature sunglasses. Only one member preferred to use a cleaning mask over scarves. As he once said, it was his ‘thing.’ No one else said anything. Instead, they all looked up at the ordinary building, inwardly sighing at the need to be kept hidden from the media. Ever since they gained popularity, privacy had turned into a myth. But their quick thinking manager came up with a solution, and it involved moving into a desolate area with undercover names. They would’ve felt like spies; if it weren’t for the plaguing exhaustion that haunted them.
“Mir, you’re sleeping on the couch again.”
Nobody heard a squeak of complaint, as was expected from the maknae. Instead, they all grabbed their respectful bags and climbed up the stairs to their new apartment. From what they understood, the only people inhabiting the building were seniors. The company had promised a single apartment for each, but then informed them that the plan was placed on a brief hiatus because of ‘financial complications’. Which they all knew was bullshit, but kept real quiet about it. At least they didn’t have to sleep with their manager.
The most striking blonde of the group leaned on the van’s side, his hair past its concert prime and awkwardly falling in front of his eyes. He was staring holes through the touch-pad screen, trying to remember why he took out his cell phone out at all. And it was during those confusing seconds that he heard the unmistakable slam of a car’s door. And naturally, he looked.
He was immediately thrown off.
Standing right in front of a taxi was a redhead. Not that tall, but definitely taller than most girls. He coughed into his red scarf, feeling the cold air gnaw his bones. The other members were dutifully entering their bags one by one, up and down the stairs, not once saying a word other than the accustomed blasphemy. And he didn’t move a finger, after all, he was the leader.
He kept staring, far too tired to make sense of things, but knowing one thing perfectly well. “Hyung,” he called out, “who’s that girl?” He was determined to not be transferred to another place, just because a young girl could identify them and bring up the onslaught of fans and media. His manager looked up and squinted at the girl who was, too, entering her bags into the officetel prefecture that was located besides them. From the looks of it, she was dead beat tired herself.
“Nobody I assume, just a oegug-in (foreigner).” The man shrugged his thick shoulders and hefted another bag over them, walking back into the apartment. The blonde tucked away his mobile, reaching down to pick up his laptop’s case. He glanced one more time at the girl, only to be able to see a glimpse of her vibrant red hair before she disappeared into the building. He adjusted his red scarf and followed Hyung with a hidden smile.
Red had always been his lucky color.
♠ ♠ ♠
♥ you.