Rouge

He had been mentally prepared for it. He knew that whenever that invisible border; that frontier between him and that cluster of buildings, there could always be a chance to see her. He would sometimes stare out his windows and avert his eyes from the old, grey, building, not knowing if he truly wanted to see what could be standing there. Or, better said, who.

Yes, coming to terms with something like this was very simple and easy. He simply suffered a few moments of uncertainty and then it was gone. Just like that. And after weeks and days without seeing a strand of redhead, he felt relieved. But only a little. Somewhere inside of him, whenever the news took up the forgotten story of the redhead (a reported Irish girl in her late twenties) he’d perk up and think of his version of the redhead.

He’d think it over time after time; the underlying implications of an unexpected meeting sending shivers down his spine. But the thought only came in mind whenever he was on that invisible border, that limit he personally made up in order to contain that secret he knew. If they’d met again in that area, he would’ve been proved right. But they didn’t.

Not there.

In the k-pop industry, the more recent you were in the game of idols, the less chance you ever got of uttering the word ‘break’. But they’d been playing that game for years, and sometimes, they would turn selfish and demand a day or two for ‘personal development’ which involved a bed, a fridge and a whole lot of drinks. Begrudgingly, they’d be spared a day or two (if lucky) with warnings of upcoming work. But they’d take the risk. The human body could only handle much.

He was lounging on his bed, open laptop and idle headphones dispersed around him in a careless manner. He didn’t know what to do, not anymore. He’d burned out twitter and his cell phone, texting old friends who’d kindly reply in short answers because, unlike him, they were sweating blood somewhere. It felt odd, lounging and not doing anything. He had recurred to play around with a pen while staring out the window.

The redhead’s window.

He had named it that way, thinking it deserved some kind of title. Sometimes he’d peer out and glance down at her floor, trying to prove to himself that she wasn’t, in fact, a dream or an illusion. Once he’d spy the paper cranes, he couldn’t stop but think a red one was missing.

“Want to go out?” Thunder was standing on the doorway, nervously grabbing the doorframe as he stared at a whimsical Seungho. He had placed so much effort in befriending the blonde, but Seungho knew where he stood. And much to the whole band’s chagrin, he was very much above.

But there were times when even he needed a break from customs and titles. “Pastry shop?”

“Gotcha.”

Seungho didn’t bother with a shower, simply changing his shirt and putting on his shoes. He did, however, take his phone with him in his back pocket. Old habits die hard; and personally, he was too much of a workaholic to not wish for an emergency meeting.

Joon was lounging on the couch, his legs barely grazing Mir’s. Both of them looked up. “Where are you going?” Joon glanced back at the t.v. and watched the commercial. Seungho licked his lips and grabbed his sunglasses.

“Pastries, want something?”

“Chocolate brownie.” Joon flipped channel, cursing in a low voice when he couldn’t find the original movie he was watching.

Mir perked up. “A six pack? The fridge is all dry.”

Thunder frowned at this. “Hyung would definitely know we bought beer.”

A loud yell came from a bedroom. “You didn’t know?” Mir laughed after that question, confusing Thunder even more.

“We’ve been smuggling beer in here all the time.”

The dark haired boy looked hurt. “How come I wasn’t informed?”

Seungho bumped his shoulder. “Because you can barely stand after two lady drinks.” He opened the apartment’s door. “I’ll buy you a cake over it- let’s go.” And go they did. Leaving behind three perfectly lazy boys, they walked down the stairs and cringed at the unmerciful cold on the outside. Thunder was ever so peaceful, playing around with the keys and his cap, not very focused on staying incognito. Seungho, in the other hand… well, he simply couldn’t dare to look around. He started to walk faster towards the street’s corner, not bothering to see if Thunder was following.

“Omo! What’s the rush?”

He licked his lips with mute words. I don’t know. “I’m hungry.” But he very much knew. Every time he stepped out of his territory the risks were too great, the opportunities too tangible. He hated the fact that he was acting like a coward, but in his head he told himself he didn’t need distractions. He didn’t need an obstacle in his career. But he knew that wasn’t it and yet the reasons were too beyond him.

He toyed with a lose string inside his pocket. “I heard they had good chocolate cake.” He wasn’t a small talker but the silence was too heavy for him on that moment.

Thunder shrugged and kept his head down, looking at his phone. “Who knows.” He looked up. “How far is this place anyway?”

Seungho blinked and shrugged, he wasn’t in the mood for small talk anymore. Instead he stared at the logo of the pastry shop. He thought about all of his favorite desserts, craving chocolate as soon as he thought about it. He even humored himself with the idea of buying even more chocolate to the flat.

Thunder was the first to go in, already stuffing his phone in his deep pockets and staring intently at the pastries under the counter. He barely missed the person standing in front of the cashier, mumbling half an apology and grabbing a menu on a table. The coated person didn’t even hear, instead leaning on the counter and pointing at the menu above the cashiers head. Seungho paid no mind and got in line.

“Is that apple pie? Sorry, I still can’t read hangul very well.” Seungho stopped chewing his lower lip. “Two portions to go.” He looked down at his shoes, seeing with his peripheral vision how she complimented the cashier girl’s hair pins and stepping to his left.

“May I help you?”

She was wearing a beautiful black winter coat and heels. And, even if she was wearing a hat, he couldn’t ignore his gut feeling. He’d never be able to forget her soft and polite voice. He stared at her neck feeling his back turn hot. The girl cleared her throat. “Sir?”

She turned around. She smiled.

“You’re the window neighbor.”

In his life pride and effort always came first. It was what drove him forwards, what made him be able to put his head up and deflect everything thrown at him from everywhere and everyone. But it only took a girl and four words to make his indifferent face fall into an expression of shock. He even noticed Thunder stop browsing through the cake section.

“I’m sure you have me mistaken.” He tried to play polite, but it was hard. The girl had more backbone than he’d imagine.

She grinned widely and let out a small laugh. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He tried to hide his embarrassment and smiled along. Truth be told, he was dying to ask her how many times she’d seen him stand by his window looking down at hers and wishing her to walk by. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

Thunder held in a bursting smile and covered his face. He didn’t miss the teasing smile on her lips verging on a smirk. It made his competitive side flare down his throat. But there was nothing to be said. In fact, he only laughed and grinned. “Thank you.” He turned back to Thunder, who was already listing all the different pastries they’d back to the apartment.

The redhead grabbed her order and thanked the cashier before turning to Seungho. “I guess I’ll see you around.” She bit in a laugh and walked out. The young boy was laughing into the palm of his hand.

“Window neighbor? Are you her stalker or something?” Thunder was leaning his elbows on the counter still trying to control his laughs and grinning at the blonde. Seungho stared at the door a moment longer before turning to the other boy.

“Mention this ever again and I’ll publish all your baby pictures.” Seungho swallowed and sneaked a quick glance through the pastry shop’s window. The redhead was already out of sight, her black coat a distant spot between streetlights and parked cars.

Thunder stepped away from the counter. “Go ahead, I have nothing to hide.” He answered candidly and hooked two bags with his index finger, spinning them around idly.

Seungho shrugged. “Not even naked?” The younger boy hesitated and stayed quiet. Seungho smiled with victory. “Thought so.”

They both walked out of the pastry shop, all while Seungho glanced at Thunder, certain he’d heard the words ‘ginger stalker’. He shrugged. “We need to call the company soon; our deadline is the end of this month. Have you started writing your rap parts?” He was back to work, back to what he was best at. Working and focusing and keeping MBLAQ productive.

Thunder held back a sigh and only rubbed his forehead. “I thought we were taking a break from the company, Hyung. And I haven’t.” He rubbed his forehead again. “Seungho, you really need to take a break.”

Seungho took out his phone and dialed their manager. “I already had enough to rest,” he all but snapped. “It’s time to get serious.” He always got this way when he wanted to avoid things. Some members speculated, others digressed. But it all narrowed down to him scurrying back to work. One way or another – be it self-motivation or distraction – Seungho would end up working diligently.

Nobody asked questions when Thunder and Seungho were back. Joon was watching television, Mir reading manga and G.O internet browsing. Everyone knew that asking anything would lead up to more trouble and possibly an extra chore in the future. Or less meat servings. For them, both were horrible happenings. So they only raised a lazy hand and mumbled half-meant ‘welcome back’.

Seungho spoke quickly into the phone, arguing about dates and numbers and deadlines. On the other hand, the other members were already indulging themselves in their pastry share. G.O was arguing with Thunder about him not bringing him a big enough slice, the rest of the boys peacefully enjoying themselves.

Nobody took notice when Seungho shut himself inside his room, passively nodding his head as he listened to his manager and muttering ‘ne’ and ‘ye’ in between. He was discussing about tomorrow and scheduling an appearance in, well, any TV show as long as they were doing something. He was already setting a time when he saw a small sparrow land on his windowsill.

“We can take another break next year,” he was rubbing his temples and keeping a straight face as he arranged more meetings. “No, they don’t know yet. It won’t be a problem. Ne.” He walked towards the window and watched the little sparrow spook and fly away. It was then his eyes landed on hangul scribbled on a sheet of paper taped to the window below. He couldn’t help but stop talking when he read.

‘Missed me already?’

He felt a startling laugh leave him, his hand lowering his cellphone as he chuckled again and again. The girl had a backbone, and for some reason it humored him more than it should’ve. He apologized to his manager and told him he’d call later. Even after hanging up, he kept staring at the white sheet, those bold hangul characters (even if terribly done) straining his eyes. He grinned broadly. She sure was fiery.

He remembered he still didn’t know her name, but that didn’t bother him. Instead, in his mind, he started to call her Min. It fit her in many ways; if she were Korean he’d name her Min. He smiled again. From then on it wasn't called 'the redhead's window' and now instead 'Min's window'. He could handle this distance between them, but something inside of him wouldn't permit it. There were far too many questions to make him keep his distance, but after reading the sheet paper, he wasn't so nervous anymore. He was only determined.

He wanted to know more.