CHAPTER 22

[Sol Han Na’s POV]

“Don’t you miss performing onstage, Miss?” my stylist asked as she curled the ends of my hair with her skilled hands. I won’t be doing anything today but still, they insist that I should look good – especially when seen together with the boys.

“I am performing onstage, noona,” I answered softly. Many times I’ve asked her to start calling me by name but she never listens. So it gets pretty awkward sometimes that I call her noona while she calls me miss, people get confused. “I perform when I host.”

She shook her head at this.

“Not that… I mean…” she broke off and I immediately knew what she’s going to say next. “Comeback. It’s been quite so long since you’re last comeback, Miss.”

This gives a slight pinch to my heart.

Comeback?

When was the last time I did that?

3 months ago? 4?

I know some fans are starting to think that the company’s putting me on hiatus but they didn’t. They just wanted me to focus on something else rather than singing – and that is, hosting.

I couldn’t blame them, really.

I wasn’t able to undergo special trainings like most of the Idols and so the company was forced to put me into every possible portion in the industry, waiting to see if I could do well – if I could do best.

And this time, they wanted me to host.

I remember the previous CEO telling me, “You’re best at performing, everyone knows that. But each performer should also be a good host. Do you think you could also shine in the hosting industry?”

So it happened.

I’ve spent these past few months hosting various television programs – music-related, usually – such as A Song For You and now, Inkigayo. There was nothing wrong with it, to be honest, for I get to experience and do more things I never thought I’d actually have skills in. But it gets sad sometimes, especially when I miss performing.

Real performing. Like the ones when I get to sing and dance onstage and express all the emotions I have.

I wonder when they’re going to make me do it again…

“You know I can’t do a comeback now, noona,” I spoke after a few minutes. “The boys are also doing their promotions. I can’t clash with them. It’ll divide the fans.”

Fans. Yes, the boys and I share fans. It was charming, really. Sol Han Na comes into your mind when you hear the word EXO. And EXO comes to your mind when you hear the name Sol Han Na. It has been proven. We’re inseparable. And it’s really very heart-warming to know that the fans support us as a whole. Right now, I was generally known as the thirteenth member of EXO and I don’t even mind. It was a great deal of pleasure - being closely related to them.

“I wish you could come back soon. I feel best when I style you at your every performance,” she said, frowning.

I took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Smiling at her, I murmured, “Manager Song told me that I will. Soon. They’re already working on a full-length album for me.”

My stylist beamed and stood up from her chair, more determined to finish her work on me now. I, on the other hand, sat back on my seat. I caught someone staring at me through the reflection in the mirror.

Baekhyun.

He’s sitting opposite me, his vanity table facing mine. He’s looking at me through his mirror and I am looking at him through mine. He had on his face a proud smile. He must have heard my conversation with my stylist.

Baekhyun shifted and lifted his hand just high enough so it could be reflected in the mirror. He had on it a thumbs-up sign.

He heard it, alright.

And of course he’s listening. He always observes me in whatever I do.

The thought made my stomach lurch and I knew the redness is already creeping towards my cheeks. I broke our gaze and looked down, knowing for the nth time that I was blushing…

Knowing for the nth time that I love him.

***

“Goodluck, boys,” Manager Song said, giving each member an affectionate pat on the back before they leave the dressing room.

“Make sure you’ll win it,” I chimed in, giddy to watch them perform again.

“Oh, we will,” Chanyeol said as he planted a kiss on my forehead before leaving.

Soon, what was left inside the wide dressing room were three people – Manager Song, Baekhyun, and I.

“Ya, what are you still doing here Baekhyun?” Manager Song scolded, an eyebrow raised at him.

Baekhyun chuckled.

“Just saying a proper goodbye to my lady, Ma’am,” he answered confidently.

I flushed.

Goodness, not again.

“Aren’t you going to wish me luck?” he murmured and knew it was me he’s talking to.

“Good luck,” I blurted, unable to look at him.

Baekhyun’s hands suddenly held my face, surprising me. He tipped my head up to force me to look at him.

I flushed a deeper shade of red.

We stared at one another for a few moments – he, silent; me, waiting fo