Page 35 of A World Apart
“What the fuck was that, and don’t say ‘nothing’,” she warned, eyes flashing as I’d opened my mouth to do just that.
“Can we at least wait until we get home?” I hissed, as several people from her office strolled by, chatting noisily and oblivious to the drama mere meters away.
Becka looked over to where they now stood, waiting for the elevator and gave me a terse nod in reply.
She barely spoke to me the whole way home. The silence gave me time and space in my own head that I hadn’t necessarily welcomed. I knew what Becka would sayand if I was really honest with myself… I didn’t think I disagreed. I mean, what the hell was I doing? It’s one thing to flirt with a handsome celebrity – when you’re around them so often, these things happen. Pretty much everyone at Pisces had ‘a story,’ that was practically a rite of passage in this job.
This felt different; like I was toeing the line of something I wasn’t supposed to. Something reckless.
I just couldn’t seem to help myself. The more I saw of him – the person he was behind the choreographed image of stages, and cameras − the more I wanted to know him. It was a dangerous game I played; I knew that. But… I think I would regret it more if I didn’t at least see where this might lead, even if all I came out of it with was a good memory.
Chapter 15
The atmosphere between Becka and I as we walked from the bus stop to our building was frosty. Becka had barely looked at me the whole way home, and when she did, it was with a scowl I’d rarely seen on her delicate features.
I hadn’t even tried to break the silence, opting instead for following her dutifully, hoping my obsequence would soften her slightly, but as we walked up the staircase to our shared apartment, I didn’t think I’d been successful, judging by how hard she was stomping the wooden floorboards.
I braced myself as the apartment door closed behind me, but she just unwound the scarf from around her neck, hung it and her coat up and moved into the living room.
I divulged myself of my coat and hat and toed my shoes off, following after her.
“Becka?” I tried, tentatively.
She looked back at me and held up a hand to stop me. “I need a drink for this,” she said, moving into the kitchenette and reaching into the top cupboard where we kept bottles of wine and spirits. To my relief, she opted for a bottle of Rosé, and not the scotch, although how she could stand the taste of scotch, I’ll never know. I was partial to a crisp gin and tonic, myself.
I watched for a few moments as she opened the wine bottle and poured herself a small measure, my nervousness fading to a dull twinge, impatience taking its place.
I leant my hip against the counter and waited for her to be done.
“Ready?” I asked as she re-capped the bottle and put it in the fridge. Finally, she turned to look at me, wine glass in hand like some 90’s housewife trope. I felt my lips twitch.
“Well?” she prompted me, like I’d been the hold-up here.
“Okay first of all,” I began, “this does not need to be this dramatic.”
“Okay, first of all,” she snapped, “this IS dramatic. Don’t you get that?
I sighed. “Look, I know what you’re going to say. You’ve said it all already and Iagreewith you. I just…” I looked away.
“You what?” Becka pressed when I didn’t continue.
“I know all the reasons why getting involved with him − an idol − is a bad idea. I just can’t seem to help myself,” I admitted.
Becka huffed and took a gulp of her wine. “Well, at least you aren’t trying to deny it anymore.”
“Is there any point?”
“Not really. How long has it been like that?” She looked up at me as she swirled the wine in her glass.
“Like what?”
Becka gave me a droll stare before replying, “like pressing you up against the wall and staring at you like you’re the last glass of water in the desert.”
The blush that flamed my face and neck was immediate, and not the only thing that made me burn. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“You tell me, you’re the one staring in a k-drama.” Becka took another sip of wine, leaning her hip against the counter in a mirror of my own stance.
“Oh, behave!” I cried, a laugh bubbling up my throat, despite the look I was still getting from Becka. “Yes, ok, there have been... looks and even some flirting, but no one’s pressing anyone up against the walls.” More’s the pity, I silently added.
