What Kaija had said in the introduction had been completely honest. This was her favorite song of Karl, from his first album, back when he debuted seven years ago, when he was only 21.
The song didn't just show off his insane vocal range. It also showcased how he could effortlessly switch from soaring high notes to deep, gritty rap verses, like it cost him nothing. It began like waves crashing against the shore, built to a crescendo, then faded into an aching sense of isolation, of being an outlier in the modern society. And most importantly, it was written by Karl himself.
I pour my heart into the verses,
I burn my youth to light the way.
They're telling me to stop, but I'm already deaf.
A sociopath on a social path.
...
Kaija kept singing. Still, Karl didn't raise his hand. His turquoise eyes stayed locked on hers, as though he were actually listening. The earlier sharpness slowly melted away from his angelic face.
When she finished, the entire hall fell silent. No one moved. Not even Karl. She stared at the crowd, eyes wandering left and right, not knowing what to do.
An eternity later, someone began clapping. Another joined. Then another. Soon, applause and cheers thundered through the hall, from every corner, from everyone. Everyone, except Karl.
His eyes were still on her, but the look in them had changed. Softer now. Calmer. Slowly, he rose to his feet. The cheering died down immediately.
"Training's over," he muttered to the room. "Get the fuck out of here, all of you." Then he turned and walked straight out the door without another word.
Everyone was stunned, Kaija included. But as murmurs started filling the theatre hall again, she quickly pulled herself together and left before anyone else. She still had one last class that day.
Modeling.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. That'd be the second-worst thing after dancing to her. After that terrifying vocal class, she'd already decided that every class in this whole training program must be equally dreadful.
Unlike the previous two, when she arrived at the shooting studio, no one was there. Fifteen minutes later, still no one.
Oh, so I'm spared another dreadful class today, she thought, heading for the door, completely blissed out. But just as she laid a hand on the handle, the piece of metal turned on its own.
BAM!
The door slammed right into her face. She stumbled back, clutching her nose with both hands, completely knocked out of her senses.
The guy who had just opened the door realized his crime immediately after hearing the impact. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, rushing toward her. She couldn't tell if it was the shock from the door or the voice itself, but the guy sounded strangely familiar.
"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he kept going, his tone full of panic. She lowered her hands, squinting to see who it was. The eyes that met her were the brilliant shade of emerald she'd come to adore so much.
Her lips trembled. "Juho?"
The surprise on Juho's face completely matched hers. "Kaija?" His brows furrowed. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm a... trainee here, Juho," she said awkwardly, darting her gaze away immediately. Just seeing Juho's face — those emerald eyes, that handsome face — was enough to send a wave of heat rushing through her like she had become a teenager all over again.
Juho didn't notice that. "Haven't seen you since the café," he said cheerfully. Then his tone softened. "I heard what happened to you at the airline."
"That was, uh... a horrible accident. But I got a new offer, so here I am," she replied, fidgeting with her hair like a total idiot.
Something in Juho's expression stiffened at her answer, but he quickly masked it with a small smile. "I see."
The subtle change in his tone made her slightly uneasy. "Juho, what are you doing here?" she asked. He was her ex-colleague. Why would he be at KE's studio? Shouldn't he still be flying? Did he also let a passenger open an emergency exit?
Juho lifted the black bag he'd been carrying, smirking faintly. "I'm a photographer here."
"A photographer?"
"Yeah. Only part-time. Not many people at the airline know, so maybe you haven't heard."
She stared at Juho, stunned. "Don't tell me you're my instructor?"
"Oh, no." Juho said, waving his hands quickly. "I'm just here to take photos of you and, you know, tell you how to act in front of the camera."
Uh-huh... That sounded like an instructor to her. "So… what should I do?" she murmured, her voice small and soft like a baby cat.
Juho suddenly stepped closer. He brushed away loose strands of hair falling across her face, tucking them gently behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin.
At that very moment, she was convinced Juho's plan was to kill her right then and there. The heat in her face shot straight to the sky and refused to come down. His emerald eyes locked onto hers, studying every feature of her face with a professional kind of focus, but to her, it just felt like he was stabbing straight through her already fragile heart.
She swallowed hard, trying to keep her trembling under control. Suddenly, Juho's lips curved into a small smile. He'd now noticed her struggle.
"Kaija, relax," he murmured softly.
Nope. Not relaxing. Not even a little. The gentle way her name rolled off his tongue only made it worse.
His smirk deepened. "Kaija," he said, voice low, "you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."