Good God. That was the most helpful prompt she'd ever heard in her life. She scratched her jeans nervously, thinking. A minute later, an idea came to her mind.
"If you don't like this one, just tell me," she muttered. "I'll change to something else."
Charles only inclined his head slightly, his silver eyes glinting as he leaned back calmly in his chair.
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, steadying herself. The song she'd picked was a little different from what she usually sang at the bar. Bar people loved covers of popular songs, something they could hum along to with a drink in hand. But truth be told, she'd always preferred singing songs she'd written myself. And this, this one was hers.
The shape of your smile haunts me in my sleep,
The touch of your hands lingers on my skin,
The sound of your voice tells me I'm in love,
I close my eyes and wish you were mine.
...
It was a song with a soft, wistful melody about a girl's feelings for a boy she had a crush on. She'd written it for Niklas when she first knew him. For a version of him that was sweet, earnest, and kind. Not the Niklas she'd broken up with.
She didn't even open her eyes as she sang. She was feeling shy, having never sung for just one audience like this. Besides, what if Charles realized that she actually wasn't that good? What if he changed his mind on this entire contract thing once she finished singing? The thoughts only made her press my eyes shut more tightly, praying the man wouldn't revoke his offer as fast as how he'd granted it.
The lyrics just flowed out on their own, from her lungs, through her throat, and all the way to the top of her head. When Kaija stopped, the room went utterly still. No sound came from Charles. No reaction.
She slowly opened her eyes, and when she did, Charles's silver eyes were inches from hers.
Her breathing ceased. "Mr. Koso—"
"Charles," he murmured, his voice low as his finger traced the line of her chin. "Just Charles."
Her lips quivered faintly as his finger left her chin, trailing slowly down the side of her neck, playing with her soft porcelain skin along the way. "Was that song an original?" he asked, fingers brushing lightly over her collarbone. "Was it for your boyfriend?"
"Ex-boyfriend," she corrected quietly. "I broke up with him last week."
His hand stilled. "What happened?"
"He's with my best friend," she said, her tone bitter. There was no need to elaborate further.
"How unfortunate," he murmured. There wasn't any hint of sincerity in his tone. Just an even tone and an unreadable, calm face.
When the silence stretched, Kaija started feeling nervous. "Did you... like the song?" she asked.
Charles leaned in closer, his breath ghosting against her ear as he whispered, "I hated it."
Her whole body went rigid. Heat flared up her neck. "I... I'm very sorry," she stammered, trying to fix it somehow. "I can sing another one for you."
"No need."
She lowered her head. Those were the exact words she'd been dreading. What was she even thinking? He must've been just high on boba tea the other day when he came up with this ridiculous offer. Her? Signing with KE? Yeah, maybe in her next life.
As Kaija sat brooding over her fate, Charles leaned back casually into his chair, his fingers quietly falling away from her skin. Then he slid the two contract documents toward her and set a pen neatly on top of it. "Just sign the contract."
Kaija blinked, staring at him in disbelief.
"Camille will show you around," he went on, rising from his chair, then slid the chair neatly back to the head of the table and pressed the button under the table again. "You can go now."
She blinked again, unsure if she'd heard him right, or if the man was simply teasing her. What just happened? Wasn't he supposed to revoke the offer?
The woman with the severe face called Camille entered again, walking straight to Kaija. She bowed deeply at Kaija — still staring at Charles, her brain struggling to process the whole strange situation.
"Please sign both copies of the contract," Camille said. "We'll keep one, and you'll keep the other, Ms. Sepala."
Without another word, Kaija grabbed the pen and scrawled her signature on both swiftly. If she wasted another second, Charles might just change his mind on the whole thing.
"I won't take any more of your time, then." Kaija rose from the chair. "I think there's someone quite eager to see you waiting outside now."
He glanced at her, smirking faintly. "So you've met one of my superstars," he said, his tone edged with annoyance. "Just don't take to heart whatever he says."
"I don't," Kaija said, shrugging nonchalantly. "See you, Charles."
When she turned around, Camille's face had gone noticeably stiff. The woman quickly composed herself again, stepped aside and gestured toward the door. "This way, Ms. Sepala."
Kaija picked up a copy of the contract and followed Camille out of the conference room.
The campus was enormous. It took half a day for her just to see everything. With Camille's icy professionalism, the whole experience felt more like an inspection rather than a tour. Cafés, restaurants, dance studios, recording booths, office buildings. Camille rattled through them all in exhaustive detail, listing rules, procedures, and where to go for what.
Camille also mentioned she wouldn't be managing Kaija directly. A man named Esko would handle that, and Kaija would meet him once training began. When the tour finally ended, Camille led her to the dormitory complex and stopped at the tallest building.
"Here's your key card," Camille said, handing the card to her. "Your room is on the 20th floor, Room 1. Please save my number and send me your account details. If you need anything, refrain from contacting Mr. Kosonen directly. You may call me anytime, Ms. Sepala. A chauffeur will pick you up this afternoon to collect your belongings. Your training begins tomorrow."
Kaija nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Camille."
"One more thing," Camille added coldly, "Please refrain from addressing Mr. Kosonen by his name in front of others." She gave Kaija a deep bow and walked away.
Kaija lingered at the doorway for a moment, watching Camille go, feeling uneasy. Before she could step inside, a mellow voice called out to her.
"Hello, miss? You're a new artist? You're so pretty!"