Disclaimer: I wish I had one of the boys. Then I'd have my first real boyfriend xD


Chapter Eight

All I Ask of You

Being deeply love by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.'

- Lao Tzu


To say Zen didn't want me to meet Jaehee alone was an understatement, "You were almost kidnapped yesterday!"

I rung my hands together. Luciel was still putting together a true version of the app for my new phone; Zen said once that each of them had slightly different features programmed by Luciel himself, but it also meant that I wouldn't have access to the Messenger outside of Zen's phone for another day or two. But still... "I have your direct phone number in my phone, right? I can call you-"

"That's not good enough, jagiya. You..." Zen huffed and ran a hand through his hair, looking old beyond his years, "You didn't see yourself - hear yourself - and I... please, please don't ask me to just let you go yet. I-I don't think..." He swallowed, thickly, and fixed me with such a longing, teary-eyed and exhausted look that I broke inside, "I don't think I can."

Slightly trembling from his emotions crashing over me, I put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. It was getting... easier, somehow, to touch him, "I'm not going anywhere. It's broad daylight. The cafe will be full of people. Jaehee will be there. But Hyun, I... I understand. Here-" I smiled, "-since you're so worried, why not drive me? You drive, right? And Jaehee can bring me back after."

His shoulders, once hunched and tense, relaxed, "I don't have a car, just the bike. Been saving up for one, but are you okay riding with me?"

My smile widened, "Do you have a spare helmet?"

Zen scoffed, "Of course I do. And spare leathers, though they'll be big on you. But..." His bit the corner of his lip, coloring just so, and my breath caught. How could such a man have this effect on me, after everything? "I don't have a spare key for you yet. And I have to be at the theatre for rehearsals by noon-"

"-Jaehee has work at 10am, I'll be back way before you go."

His expression softened, "I was hoping you'd come. To see me rehearse."

Now it was my turn to blush, "I-I yes! Yes, H-Hyun, of course I will."

Zen turned away with the strangest strangled sound. He excused himself and I swear that I heard him mutter before disappearing into the bedroom, "I swear if she says my name like that again I'll-"

When he came back, my blush was still there in full force. Zen didn't look at me when he handed over a thick leather jacket that smelled equal parts of leather and just... Zen. The helmet looked older, not dusty just disused. I wondered when the last time he took anyone for a ride on the motorcycle was, if ever.

The bike itself was sleek, well taken care of, and I could tell he loved the machine. His fingers lingered on it, dancing on the bars for a few short seconds before swinging a leg over an straddling the seat. He flashed me one of his winning grins and patted the seat. And then this gorgeous, infuriating man had the gall to wink at me. My face was probably never going to recover.

"Oh you look so adorable when you blush, jagiya," Zen said, "Come on, sit here."

I kept my eyes focused on the black leather of his jacket, far from his face, when I sat, "U-um... where do I uh... put my hands?"

This was a bad idea.

"Around my stomach; hold on tight, nae sarang," There was a smile in his voice, a lightness I'd missed in the last few days. I gulped noisily and he hesitated, "... if you're not okay with it, I'll call a cab and-"

"N-no! No, I'm fine Hyun just uh..." This man was going to be the death of me.

Feeling my blood rushing up again, I snaked my arms around his waist. Even through the leather, I could feel his warmth, and buried my head in his back so he couldn't see my blushing. Hugging this man, being with him... it was making it easier and easier to forget. That I was broken and awkward and distorted inside.

When the motorcycle started and the wind whipped by us, I held him tighter as if Zen was the whole world.


Jaehee waited inside with a large cup of coffee in a cute mug adorned with rabbits. Zen didn't leave until I was well inside, something that didn't escaped the straight-laced woman from the look on her face and how she eyed my jacket. But she didn't comment, only gesturing to the seat next to her with a sweet smile, "How are you feeling?"

"... better," I went to the counter first, where Jangmi waited with a smile, "Can I get a... medium chai latte and a blueberry muffin, please?"

The old woman nodded and ran my card before I went back to Jaehee, "That old woman's really nice."

I laughed, "Yeah. When I told her about Zen's injury, she gave me a bunch of free croissants for him."

"She gave me some pointers on making better use of my French press at home," Jaehee's eyes glinted. She looked more alive than I'd ever heard her be on the messenger. Even though yesterday was the first time we'd meet face to face, when she delivered tolietries and clothes to Zen's.

I said, a bit of a shy smile in my voice, "Maybe you should ask her about an apprenticeship or job. Classes or something."

Jaehee's eyes widened, "Would she-?" When I nodded, she blushed, "That would... I..."

Jangmi came back and set down my drink with a knowing look of her own, "There's not many customers at the moment, so I overheard. You're interested in coffee, Ms. Kang?"

"Y-yes...!"

The old woman's face crinkled from the force of her matronly smile, "You're welcome any time. I'm afraid I'm getting on in years, my dear, and non of my children ever showed interest in baking or coffee. It would be wonderful to teach a young person like yourself."

"I... but I am quite busy with work..."

"She'll do it," I said, grinning behind the lip of my tea.

Jaehee sputtered, looking at me with wide eyes, "Aya-!"

"Everyone knows how much you're loving researching coffee for work, Jaehee," I said, "And between everyone at the RFA - not including Jumin - and Luciel's help with the cat project, you should be fine to come learn from Jangmi at least on occasion."

"I..." Her shoulders sank a bit, and I could see the cogs working behind her eyes. They worked in her favor, overcoming Jaehee's self doubt just long enough for her to nod and smile.

Jaehee and Jangmi talked for a whole half hour, with me only occasionally piping up. I didn't know much about coffee, but I did know about tea and a bit of baking from back home. Somehow, the sly old woman managed to extract a promise from me to bring by my mother's challah recipe at some point. I'm sure Mom wouldn't mind.

Then Jaehee must have noticed the time, for she gasped and like lightning we were out of the cafe. Just a bit behind schedule in her opinion (meaning she would get to work on time, instead of early). I smiled, truly happy for her. Every time the brunette spoke about coffee or listened to Jangmi explain her brewing methods or where she got her beans, Jaehee just looked so... alive. I found myself almost asking her to just quit her job for Jumin right then and there.

Zen was all keyed up when Jaehee dropped me off. She'd taken a back way into the apartment complex, parking close but on the side that was less travelled. I knew she was trying to keep Zen's reputation intact, with me staying there for an as-yet undetermined amount of time. Jaehee really was sweet.

With Jaehee already running late by her account - on time by any sane person's - she left in a hurry. And with the same amount of speed, I was whisked away by the albino blonde. The theatre he worked for was within walking distance so we didn't take the bike again. Probably another reason why he'd picked that particular apartment.

"Hyun, hold on," As we reached the colossal place and ducked towards a side entrance, I tugged on his sleeve a bit.

He gave me a soft smile, "What's up, jagiya?"

"I just wanted to, you know... say thank you," I shifted my weight, "For everything. For going against Luciel last night, for taking me to your place, for giving me space and letting me talk... just, you know, everything..." I stared down at my fingers, fidgeting, "Thank you, it... well, it means a lot. You haven't known me that long, and-"

"Aya, those are just the things you do for someone you love," My head snapped up, but he'd turned away, fiddling with the side door. He'd said it so nonchalantly, so out of nowhere-

An older woman with pulled back hair and a kind face called from inside, "There you are, Zen! You..." She trailed off when we entered, raising an eyebrow at me. Then something clicked and she smiled, "This is Aya, isn't it? You said you were bringing a friend."

"Yeah," He shot me a soft smile, "Aya, this is Director Eunha. Eunha, like I said on the phone, she's staying with me for a bit."

"Her apartment was broken into, if I remember what you said," Eunha nodded, her smile fading a bit, "Don't look so worried, Zen; she'll be with me in the audience."

"Excellent."

"Hello, ma'am," I bowed at the waist, earning a laugh from the both of them. I blushed deeply and Zen grasped my hand with a small squeeze. In that moment, a billion thoughts exploded in my head and I froze. He tried to pull back, regret rolling off him in waves, but I was quicker and grasped his hand tighter.

Eunha didn't seem to notice, "Well, you're here now. Chun Hei is here too, I figured we'd work on her scenes with Raoul a bit more. She's still... well..." The woman's shoulders sagged a bit, "She's trying really hard, but her heart's not in it."

"She's a seamstress, not an actress," Zen patted the director on the shoulder with a small smile, "Don't worry, we'll find a replacement for Ji Woo."

"If that woman wasn't such a drama queen..." Eunha pinched the bridge of her nose, "You couldn't go on just one date with her, Zen?"

Zen's eyes flashed down at me and he groaned, "It's never just one date with women like her, Director." His thumb rubbed comforting circles against my hand, and I realized I'd tensed up. I didn't want to think about why. It wasn't jealousy, not really. But still, the thought of Zen on a date with another woman...

It made me... angry. Even if I had no right to be.

Eunha led us through the winding corridors of the theatre as all kinds of people rushed about around us. Stage builders and designers in paint-splattered clothes, a few costumers measuring actors or running through the halls with bolts of cloth or clothing from the storage rooms. It was a sort of hectic organized chaos, and I shuffled closer to Zen for fear of getting separated. He never stopped smiling, and once winked at me, causing another bright red blush.

I didn't miss how everyone stared. Zen seemed to enjoy it, saying hello to everyone by name and never even trying to hide our joined hands. Most of the looks were curious, though a handful of the women and even a couple of the men we passed had a glint of jealous in their eyes. Though it was never really malicious; I got the feeling from just how warmly all the actors and back stage persons acted with each other that this was one big family. A family with Eunha at the head, like some grandmother figure. Everyone listened to her and made way, but she moved with purpose and even more smiles. Everything at the theatre was cheery. Cheery, chaotic, and unpredictable with an overarching air of purpose and drive.

A lot like Zen himself, I realized.

We went straight to the stage. Eunha explained that they weren't nearly ready for dress rehearsals yet, though some pieces were used in the mean time as stand-ins to help with staging. She explained, obviously for me and not for Zen, that the lights would dim in the audience when they started rehearsal, so she could get a better idea of how they were doing.

I was excited. I'd seen videos and such of Zen's performances online, but never in person. Soon, as Zen stepped away and lifted our joined hands to kiss my knuckle - after waiting for a nod and smirking at my resulting blush - I found myself unable to stop smiling. He left the stage and Eunha led me off into the audience, to a small table in a cleared section a few rows back.

"He's never brought a... 'friend'... to rehearsal before," I stumbled as I sat, earning a chuckle for a Director, "I always thought he was too busy for a relationship. The boy's a workaholic."

"It's... it's not like that," or was it? I didn't know. What were we?"

"Oh, this old girl thinks it is," Eunha shuffled some papers around, organizing the table in a matter-of-fact way, "Zen's never looked at a girl like he looks at you. It's not acting; trust me, even the best actors in the world can't fake that look."

"I've always wanted to go on a picnic as a date."

"I'll miss you every moment."

"May I touch you?"

"... maybe," I didn't want to think about it.

You came to Korea to heal, Aya.

I know I did. I knew, but at the same time... Zen said he wanted me safe and happy. He wanted to be by my side, to protect me. But still... I couldn't fathom him actually wanting me. Not in that way, not my broken self.

Eunha fitted and then spoke into a small earpiece, "Everyone on deck; we'll start with the masquerade choreography, then the first act."

It reminded me of the few productions I'd been in back in high school, though this was on a much grander scale. Since it was still early-ish in production, everyone was in comfy clothing. No costumes came out yet, save for a cape for the actor playing the Phantom - Eunha said his name was Iseul - and props like swords and such. None of it could prepare me or serve as a buffer to hearing Zen sing in person for the first time. It was just small sections - Raoul didn't really have long solo or duo pieces like Christine and the Phantom - but he was easily the best singer in the whole bunch. It was melodic and hypnotic in a way I'd never heard before. Recordings and videos didn't do the real thing justice at all, not even through the phone like we'd always done until now. The girl playing Christine was... decent, but nothing compared to Zen. Very pretty in a mousy sort of way, and with a great voice, but just... not into it. I could tell, and obviously Zen and Eunha could too from their words earlier. She looked nervous and unsure at times, yet did pick up and do well when the spotlight was on her. I felt sorry for the girl; I knew what it was like to not want to be in the spotlight.

"You're new; Chun Hei doesn't look as bad to you as she does to me, right?" Eunha said quietly as the actors reset to go through the scene again.

I shook my head, "I mean... she's okay. Not bad, but-"

"We had to beg her to step in, Zen and I," Eunha sighed, "With some help of the rest of the costumers. She's a clothes person; no interest whatsoever for the stage, but she's a decent singer and doesn't have two left feet, and we were desperate after Ji Woo up and left when Zen rejected her."

"Why did he?" I swallowed thickly, "I mean, well-"

"Ji Woo was looking for a show-mance with the most attractive man any of us has ever seen, and Zen wanted no part of a potential scandal, that's all," Eunha said, "He got fed up with her once over a failed seduction, they fought over it, and Ji Woo quit. I don't blame him for getting mad; it just puts the production in a bind. Finding someone of the acting caliber of Zen and Iseul to take a lead role is... difficult."

That was when I noticed her side-eye me with an almost expectant look. My shoulders sank; Zen must have told her what my major in school was. I wonder if he'd told her that he was using me to practice lines in his spare time? I hoped not; I didn't need two people begging me to try out now.

Hours later and rehearsal came to a close. Eunha instructed the already dim audience lights to be turned off, leaving the only light still on being the ghost light on stage. I raced up to meet Zen as the others left.

"You looked amazing up there, Hyun."

His smile was as brilliant as it was captivating, "You will come see the full production then, I hope. Myself, on the stage as Raoul, in full costume. Fighting to save the one he loves from the dastardly Phantom."

My own grin was genuine, even as I blushed for the hundredth time today, "I... I wouldn't miss it."

"I'm glad," Zen's face softened. He leaned down just a bit at the waist, enough to catch my eyes, "I'll make sure to sing extra well that night, just for you."

I gulped noisily. I hope he didn't hear it, "Wh-what if I come every night you perform?" What was I doing? That sounded almost... flirtatious. Clumsy and ill-timed, but still. I winced.

He moved slowly to cup my hand, "Then I'll sing for you every night, jagiya."

"H-Hyun!" I covered my lower face with my other hand and looked away. I felt hot, distracted, but I didn't pull away from his hand.

"How adorable you are, jagiya," Zen stood to full height again. His hand slipped from mine as he half turned towards the backstage, "Will you wait for me a moment? between here and the production back areas is a mess. I've got another quick fitting for a jacket, then I'll get our jackets and helmets and we'll head out."

I lunged for his arm before he'd even moved five feet, "Wait!" A couple people still filing out slowed and stared for a moment before scurrying off under Zen's glare.

"I'll be close, don't worry," Zen covered my hand in both of his and drew it up to his chest, "It's just a moment; I don't want you getting lost backstage. I'll give you a full tour later, when it's not so hectic back there, so you know you're way around and I won't have to worry."

"Oh... okay," I didn't want him to leave me alone, but those words stuck in my throat. This was different than when he'd dropped me off with Jaehee. I knew her, trusted her, and that cafe was a place I knew and it'd been daylight. The theatre was dark save for the stage and I didn't know anyone well save for him. Some of my earlier fear from the attack returned, but I bit back and swallowed those concerns. If I voiced them, Zen would only worry more.

"I'll be back, Aya, nae sarang," He lifted my hand and pulled my other to join it near his perfect lips. His smile was soft, reassuring, "May I?"

I nodded, breath coming out in a shudder when his lips touched my knuckles. Then Zen left me with a smile and I watched him, ponytail swaying as he walked and disappeared into the darkness behind the half-done stage walls and blackout curtains. It was then that, for the first time since before Unknown attacked the apartment, I was alone.

I sat in the center of the ghost light cast on the stage, wrapping my arms around myself. A familiar fear crept up in the back of my mind, seeping through the cracks of my brain and trying hard to take root there. But I didn't let it, humming to myself some of the music I'd heard today. Nothing could hurt me here. There were dozens of people in the theatre, and every couple minutes or so I'd spot one or two weaving through the seats or glimpsed backstage. For the most part, I was alone. But I knew that if I screamed or went looking, I would find Zen. So far, he'd always come when I'd needed someone. Even if how he knew made no logical sense, like how he knew the apartment break in was going to happen yesterday.

But yesterday still happened. It all still happened. He hadn't been able to Unknown from coming at all. I was still vulnerable. I was still alone here, right now, wasn't it? Zen was still human; he wasn't infallible even if he had managed to strong arm through the apartment door.

What if he couldn't save me some other time? What if I failed to protect myself again? What if, in a moment like this, Unknown came back? Was he following us? What did he want? He wanted to take me to this 'paradise', said I was 'chosen', but I'd heard similar promises from... from him and I didn't want that. I didn't want to go back there. I didn't, I couldn't.

I'd rather die than go back into that dark basement.

Dark like the audience was right now. Dark like so many places I'd been, in my mind and back in the States. Back when I'd been with him.

A tear slid down my cheek, cooling almost immediately in the air conditioned theatre. I shook my head with a little too much force, then buried it in my knees. But that only resulted in the darkness and the images behind my eyelids coming forward, and that was somehow worse and-

"No more talk of darkness," I bolted up at the singing, whipping to the right and clutching at pounding, half-panicked heart, "Forget these wide-eyed fears."

Zen was there, at the edge of the stage right where the ghost light ended and the darkness behind began. He stepped into the light proper, a strange look on his face. Comforting, yet serious and earnest all the same, "I'm here, nothing can harm you." He strode right up to me and I had to look away, not wanting him to see my near panic attack when I'd said I would be okay. Zen put a hand on my shoulder and guided my chin to face him. I was torn between jerking away and leaning in, "My words will warm and calm you."

I knew this song. We'd practiced it plenty of times over the phone. But here, up close and in person, with his heavenly voice mere inches away... it was terrifying in how different it made me feel. Zen paused and, still with the calm face, wiped away my few tears with his thumb, "Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears." Then his hands fell to cup my own, squeezing them gently, "I'm here, with you, beside you. To guard you and the guide you."

Of course he came just as I was starting to panic. He was even still wearing a half-pinned jacket. Had he had another one of his visions? Was he just some sort of guardian angel sent to watch over me? I wanted to laugh at how cliche that sounded.

But it was my turn to sing. We were alone on the stage, in the bright spotlight and surrounded by the near-impenetrable darkness beyond. Near, because Zen seemed to walk through the darkness and back like it was nothing. Whereas I always found myself trapped there.

I stared down at our joined hands, "Say you love me every waking moment." I drew our hands up, pressing them against his chest as I took a step forward. We were only separated now by the width of our joined arms, "Turn my head with talk of summertime." I knew all the words. Of course I did. And as I sang the next, my voice echoing through the room just as strong as his - yet unsure, with a hint of wavering - I looked up at him. I tried to convey all my conflicting emotions through my eyes. My worry, my doubt, all of it, "Say you need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true." By the gods, if it was... I wasn't sure what I would do. It felt like I was walking a tightrope; which way would I fall? "That's all I ask of you."

Without missing a beat, Zen kept going as his hands danced down my arms, "Let me be your shelter." Those hands stopped at my shoulders, gripping there tightly but never restraining, "Let me be your light." When Zen drew me in, arms wrapped around my upper torso and holding me against him, I didn't stop the much taller man. His head rested atop mine, and I sobbed once, "You're safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you."

I didn't want to push away. I wanted to stay here. But it was my turn now, and I pushed away just enough with my hands balled up in the t-shirt underneath the jacket to sing, "All I want is freedom." I looked down. That was true, truer than even the words of this fictional musical could possibly comprehend, "A world with no more night." No more cages, no more pain.

And then, I touched him. My own hand, of my own accord, traced the invisible line from the tops of his cheeks to his jaw, then my fingers splayed out between there and his neck, "And you, always beside me. To hold me and to hide me."

His smile was more brilliant and devastating than the sun. Zen took my hand and spun me, earning something between a laugh and a squeal. He took me into a half dance around the spotlight area, never dwelling too near the darkness of the rest of the stage, "Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime." As suddenly as the impromptu dance began, it ended, and he swung me back into his arms so my back was pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around me securely from behind as he sang, "Let me lead you from your solitude."

In spite of myself, I leaned back against him. Relishing in the heat he provided. In the safety he promised, both in the song and all the times before. One of his arms drew upwards, across my stomach and slowly up my arm to the shoulder, "Say you need me with you here, beside you." I turned my head a bit to try as see him. Of what I could see, the look in his ruby eyes spoke volumes. Pleading, begging in a way no man had ever looked at me before. Any look he'd ever given to me was a pale imitation to this... love... in his eyes.

I stopped breathing for a few seconds. His hand at my shoulder ghosted up, a couple fingers lightly grazing my pulse to draw back my hair a bit as his head leaned over my other shoulder to catch my eyes proper, "Anywhere you go, let me go too."

Good god, that look.

"Aya, that's all I ask of you."

My breath shuddered out of me, emotions wracking through my weak and scarred body. He'd used my name, not Christine's. Not the characters. This wasn't just a spur of the moment song. He was speaking directly to me; I couldn't deny that even if I tried. One of my hands found his still around me and laced our fingers together. Once more, my turn. And yet it would be lying to say any 'acting' was going on between us, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word-" I used my hand in his as leverage to turn in his arms, the hand at the nape of my neck slipping to settle against my hip as I held the other between us, "-and I will follow you." It was harder to sing now. With each syllable of his - and mine - I felt myself more breathless. Warmer. Overwhelmed.

And together, in each others arms, we sang, "Share each day with me; each night, each morning."

My heart beat. The next line. It would confirm what he'd let slip with such nonchalance earlier. What Eunha alluded to, what I fear so much... yet also coveted.

"Say you love me."

He didn't miss a beat, "You know I do."

A tear slipped down once more, and once more was Zen there to wipe it way with a thumb from our joined hands. He leaned in, so close yet not close enough for this heady, warm feeling enveloping me. The next line was only half sung, all pretext forgotten as we whisper-sang only for each other, "Love me, that's all I ask of you."

I knew what the script called for, of course I did. Zen and I had joked about it. Two major kisses in the production, with a smattering of other ones. And yet, despite our closeness and the finality of the words of the song we sang so faithfully, Zen's eyes and his face and everything about him betrayed the man. He had no intention of kissing me here. The pulse on his neck strained, his forehead rested against mine with the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. Pupils wide, eyes flickering down, down. Only a fool would try to say he didn't want to.

But could I? Could I risk that? With him, here, now?

The pause was too long, and Zen began to pull back an inch. He spoke, voice so thick with emotion that even he stumbled, "A-Aya-"

I leaned up on my toes and pulled him down fiercely, our lips meeting like the force of two clashing storms. His arms were everywhere in a flash - in my hair, on my hip, my cheek, sweeping over me and leaving warmth wherever they went. Then I was flying, his lips moving softly against my own as he swung me around. I laughed, and he laughed too, all giddy and happy between kisses and pecks.

Then I landed on my feet again. The kiss drew deeper. Purposeful. His hands settled, one woven through my hair and the other tight across my back. And yet I gave as I got, breathless and tugging him ever closer.

The memory of where we were seeped back into my traitorous mind. I was the first to draw back, Zen's close-eyed face following as if in a trance to catch my lips once more. But I placed a finger to his, only for Zen's eyes with a haze of a man drunk to slide open and press another kiss down the length of said finger.

The song wasn't over yet.

"Anywhere you go, let me go too," I put my hands on his cheeks, his own now at my hips, as we sang, "Love me; that's all I ask of you."

The silence that stretched after was too long. Zen leaned down enough that his forehead touched mine, but as the world caught up, so did my fears. I bit my lip and looked away. He leaned down more, trying to catch my eye. It took longer still for him to say anything, this voice thick and almost hoarse, "Aya. Aya, I-"

"Don't say you love me again yet, please, please," I whispered low enough that it wouldn't carry in the cavernous theatre, "G-give me a minute. I-I... I don't know wh-wh..."

He was touching me. I'd touched him. I'd kissed him. My first kiss since Michael. My first... consensual... in even longer. One I couldn't deny I wanted. One I didn't deserve. Zen's hands on my hips. My lips were still warm and kiss-swollen. I was shaking like a leaf from head to toe.

As Zen pulled me in with a small sigh, his head again atop mine, a voice and clapping broke our bubble, "That was amazing!"

The sound that came from my throat was somewhere between a scream and some sort of animalistic strangled yell. I tore away from Zen, stumbling back a few steps, and whipped around to face the darkness of the audience. Slowly, the form of Eunha entered the light as she stepped up the side steps onto the stage. She was smiling broadly, hands clasped in front of her. I knew what she was going to ask before she spoke.

"Now I suspected, but that little display pretty well proves it," She said, "You're voice is... beautiful. On par with Zen's himself, I dare say. Now I really must have you for our Christine."

"I-I..." I looked at Zen. He still looked somewhat in a daze, staring at me with a calm face, slow to blink. There was an affection there, a kind I knew was an act. A kind that terrified me, "I don't kn-know..."

Could I? Could I sing again for an audience? It'd been so long since anyone had heard me sing. And yet, in such a relatively short time in Korea, I'd begun to open up again. Would it... would it really be so bad?

When my vision blurred from stress-tears, Zen moved. He wrapped long arms around me, "Director Eunha, Aya already told me no. There's no point in stressing her out more."

A sigh from behind me, "I see. That's really too bad then, because the chemistry there was on point."

Zen's words made me freeze in his arms. He'd jokingly badgered me multiple times about playing Christine, always laughing off my no's with a harmless manner. It was sort of a joke now, but even still I knew how much he really did want me to play her. And after seeing him today, on the stage, and singing alongside him... for Zen to give up so easily when Eunha mentioned it, just because he saw how it stressed me out...

"I'll do it."

Zen's hand, which was rubbing circles on my back, stilled, "I'm sorry, what was that? I-I couldn't hear you."

That was probably the first time I'd ever heard his voice crack. I pushed against his chest, raising my head enough that my words could be heard loud and clear as I looked him dead in the eye.

"I'll play Christine."


Author's Note: Y'all freakin' knew I was gonna make it happen xD