Page 45 of Signed, I'm Yours!
“So do I, but that’s not sweet. That’s a sugar bomb inside a sugar bomb.”
“Get your own cup then.”
“I would, but something tells me you are way too comfortable in that chair.”
He glares at me and sips his coffee again as if to prove a point. Not that I would know what the point is. But I’m not going to admit that to him.
“Anyway, what was so urgent that you ignored unbearable, physical pain to get here?”
I glance down at his dark oak desk, which appears too tidy for someone so chaotic. His laptop is the only thing actively being used, therefore the only “messy” thing on it. There are, of course, a few photography books at the edges, along with a few candles, and I can’t help but wonder. Does this guy actually like photography, or has he simply not touched the house since he got it, by whatever means?
“I had to cancel something.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Cancel what?”
He shakes his head.
“None of your business.”
“Was it a wax? A mani-pedi? A naughty subscription.” All of which I can imagine him having.
“No! My waxing appointments are nonnegotiable and only every other Wednesday, my mani-peds are every Monday at twelve on the dot, and my naughty subscriptions are too precious to cancel,” he says and turns away from me, but I catch the shock in his eyes, as if he’s revealed too much about himself again.
“Then what did you need to cancel?”
I hear him take a deep breath before he swivels and sets his coffee on the desk.
“Auditions.”
“Auditions for what?”
“It’s nothing.” He tries to dismiss me again.
“Seojun! What are you hiding? A career on Broadway, perhaps?”
He blows raspberries and rolls his eyes.
“I wish.”
“Then what?”
Another deep breath.
“Sidekick auditions.”
“Sidekick auditions?” I chuckle.
Do people actually audition sidekicks?
“What on earth do you need a sidekick for?”
He slaps the desk and stands.
“I’m a supervillain, damn it. Every supervillain needs a sidekick to do their dirty work.”
“Not a supervillain.” I shake my head.
