She got Karl his Earl Grey teas, and one full-topping Oolong for herself to make up for the one she'd lost that morning. After yelling the order right in her face, Karl had stormed out of the restaurant, only pausing long enough to bark, "Bring it to the waiting lounge on the second floor! And don't make me wait!"
She was just as stunned as the two girls she assumed were his manager and stylist, along with everyone else who'd witnessed his abrupt, dramatic exit. Now, she sat across from Karl on a sofa, watching as he downed both large cups like they were cheap beer. His cheeks puffed out, stuffed with white pearls, chewing furiously. She could hardly believe this baby-faced man would be twenty-eight this year.
"You feeling better now?" she asked when he finished the second cup.
"Barely," he muttered, slamming the empty cup onto the coffee table. He wiped the milk foam from his lips with the back of his hand, looking oddly satisfied.
Then, unexpectedly, his tone softened. "Why did you pick that song?"
"I wanted to impress you," she admitted plainly.
Karl fell silent.
"It's also one of my favorites," she added.
"Thought you said my music puts you to sleep."
"The later albums do," she said, eyes distant as she consulted her memory. "But that one and every song on your first album just felt entirely you. Raw. Real. Unfiltered. I don't know why you stopped making that kind of music."
Karl went quiet again, studying her. "Not my decision," he said finally, exhaling hard. "Those trash songs sell more. Half of them I didn't even write."
"What a shame," Kaija murmured. "I loved everything you did back then. I still do."
Karl's cheeks turned faintly pink. His gaze shifted away. "You have… the most captivating voice I've ever heard," he said.
Kaija blinked, unsure if she'd heard him right.
"You'll go further than I ever did," he added quietly.
The air between them suddenly turned both warm and awkward at once, like the tension couldn't decide which direction to choose. "I'm not used to this version of you," she blurted.
His head snapped up, his glare returning in full force. "You better not!" Then he shot to his feet, his shoes slamming against the polished floor as he stormed off again, leaving her sitting there, dumbfounded, not sure what had just happened.
When he finally disappeared from sight, a soft voice spoke behind her. "Seems like you and Karl get along very well."
She turned to find Liisi standing there, smiling sweetly, her pastel-pink hair framing her lovely face. "I wouldn't say so," Kaija replied coolly, sipping her boba tea. "He's just having a dopamine high."
Liisi's smile didn't fade. If anything, it only deepened. "You know, Karl's kept a clean profile all these years because he never got involved in any kind of scandal," Liisi said, her tone turning sweeter. "His fans are… sensitive. They wouldn't be happy hearing any dating rumors about their idol, even something harmless."
"Uh… okay?" Kaija muttered, still not sure where she was going with that.
"Just some advice from experience, sister!" she chimed cheerfully. "I've got a practice session now. Have a good day." And with that, Liisi left, graceful as ever.
Kaija had no idea why, but Liisi's beautiful face was starting to give her some creepy vibes.
The rest of the week passed without much drama. Thankfully, she only had photoshoots with Juho once a week, which meant she didn't have to face him again until the next one after that steamy incident.
As for cranky Antony, now that she knew she'd better keep her hands off him, she simply came in, stayed several meters away, copied his moves as best she could, bore some insults and avoided any unnecessary conversation.
Karl, meanwhile, was preparing for his tour. He'd assigned a substitute instructor, and this person actually trained them like how a normal vocal instructor would.
The other classes were… boring, to say the least. Mostly about handling the press, paparazzi, and fans. That Sunday evening, she dragged herself back to her room feeling completely drained.
There hadn't been a single day off in between the training. Still, with that S$260,000 debt hanging over her head and a S$10,000 monthly stipend on the line, she wasn't in any position to complain.
The elevator doors slid open with a ding. She strolled down the corridor toward her room. Just as she reached for the handle, a faint creak echoed from the other end. Kaija turned absently toward the sound. Room 2's door slowly opened.
She startled slightly. Someone's living in Room 2? A tall figure stepped out. He was wearing an unbuttoned white shirt and black tailored trousers, his hair chestnut brown, his eyes a stormlight silver that immediately locked on hers.
Charles Kosonen?!
She hadn't seen him again since her first day, and yet there he was, looking effortlessly casual and maddeningly handsome, like he'd been living on the same floor as her this whole time. Wasn't someone like him supposed to stay in some grand, glamorous villa off campus?
"Why are you here?" Kaija asked.
"I live here," Charles said simply, walking toward her.
"But I haven't seen you this entire week."
"I only stay here occasionally. When there's more work to take care of."
"Oh, I see..."
Truth be told, the memory from the other day — when he'd traced her neck and grazed her ears with his strangely soft, seductive whispers — still haunted her sometimes before she fell asleep. And now, standing this close to him again, with his piercing silver eyes fixed on hers and his musky, leathery scent filling the air, the same tingling sensation just came crawling back under her skin all at once.
She gave him a slight bow, ready to flee. "I shouldn't take any more of your time. You must have a lot of work to deal with." She reached for the door handle again, but before she could turn it, his hand slid in, catching the handle first.
Her breath hitched. She looked up at him, eyes wide. He nodded toward his room, cool as ever. "Would you like to come over for a drink?"