There were so many people.

So many bodies rushing by, running here and there.  Amina felt like a hindrance in a room full of efficient staff and crew members.  Everyone knew their places, knew exactly what to do, where to stand, and where to go.  And here she was – looking like an idiot standing against the wall, with a make-up apron tied around her waist, a thin can of hairspray in one hand, and a rattail comb in the other.  She looked ready to go into battle… and she didn’t even know what she was up against.  An untamable riot of curls?  A frizzy mass of fly away hair?  Dark circles?  Who knows…  She just knew that she had to be available when they called her name.

“Amina-sshi.”

Amina jerked out of her thoughts and glanced over towards the direction of the voice.  She nodded her head and walked swiftly towards Ji Eun, careful to not step on the wires that crisscrossed the floor from various extension cords.  She hadn’t planned on being here for Youngbae’s comeback performance.  In fact, her morning started out like any normal workday had started for the past several days.  She had awakened and showered, choosing to change it up by blowing her hair straight and tying it back into a high slick pony tail.  As usual, her make-up was flawless and the hairstyle only emphasized the grace of her neck and gentle sweeping cheekbones.  She tucked the ends of the voluminous white tank into the high waistband of her black harem pants, grateful that it hid her slowly protruding belly bump, and pulled on the same pair of ankle booties she had worn on her first day of work.  She topped it off with the same Burberry blazer sans man sweat and took off, barely making the bus stop on time.  Had Amina known that she was going to be pulled aside and asked to assist the very moment she arrived at YG, she would have asked Youngbae to prepare her yesterday. 

And maybe would've worn more comfortable shoes, too.

It had been a week now, since they had been married.  Five days since they had suddenly lost Boss to a terminal spinal injury disease.  Just when she felt that things were beginning to look up, it always seemed the world came crashing down on them.  Only this time…

This time, they had each other.

But even then…

It wasn’t easy.

When was it ever easy?

She found herself being tested many times throughout the first few days.  Everywhere Amina looked, she kept seeing traces of Boss.  Boss at the foot of the bed.  Boss lounging beside her on the sectional.  Boss trailing behind her as she swept the floors of the apartment.  She could even picture him scratching the hallway closet door when it was time for their daily morning and evening walks.  For even though he couldn’t tell time, Boss just instinctively knew when she would take him out.

As much as she wanted to, Amina didn’t dare touch the stacks of canine apparel and accessories that were kept in their walk-in.  Nor the dozens of different leashes that hung inside the hallway closet.  She didn’t even remove Boss’s favorite chew toy from her purse or pick up any of his gently used tennis balls around the apartment.  No, she left things the way they were, despite the suffocating feelings that bloomed inside her chest and choked off her air supply.

She just pressed her eyes closed and took a deep breath.  Keep busy.  Just keep busy, she told herself.  Because this was his dog.  She needed to be there for him.  Do things his way.  And because while at the hospital, Amina had made a pact with herself - that she would stay strong for Youngbae.  That despite all the anguish and loss she was feeling inside, she was going persevere through it all because Youngbae needed her now… more than she needed herself. 

And that’s what she did.

She could still remember getting out of bed the first morning after, with a sizable headache from all the crying and fitful sleep she had suffered from the night before.  As she ambled towards the bathroom, she could hear Youngbae in the living area, talking to someone on the phone.  The low timbre of his voice, deeper that morning, due to the emotional toll his body had endured during the past 24-hours, traveled down the hallway.  She could hear him, explaining to the caller about what had happened to Boss.

He sounded reserved.

Patient. 

Numb. 

Like he had been through the conversation half a dozen times before.

As much as she wanted to check up on him, Amina felt the need to give him privacy during this time. To allow him to go through the grieving process of explaining and talking it through.  The same way she did with Daesung.  For she only found it became easier, the more times she could speak about her loss until she could do it freely without succumbing to agonizing pain each time.

She didn’t want him to suffer the way she did.

She didn’t want him to be alone.

Whenever he wasn’t receiving any phone calls or checking up on messages, she tried to keep him busy as well.  She about what an awful wife she was, having never cooked at home for him before.  He smiled reservedly in return and, like a good sport, helped her prepare their lunch as best as he could.  He handled whatever small tasks that she asked of him, silently and methodically.  But as Amina watched him work alongside her, she could tell that his heart wasn’t in it.  The bleakness and sorrow in his face said it all.

And so she wrapped her arms around his lean torso and held on… until the storm passed by.

She held him a lot those first few days.

With everything already planned and scheduled so far in advance in conjunction with ongoing Big Bang promotions, Youngbae decided to go ahead and keep his schedule for the upcoming weeks, only asking for a reprieve once the major events had been taken care of.  Since he had to work anyway, he told her it wouldn’t matter one way or the other if he had a week off or more.  “Trust me,” Youngbae solemnly assured, his eyes gazing into her worried brown ones.  “I’ll be fine.  I did it before with my Solar album.  I know what my limits are this time around.”

As promised, Youngbae came home every night regardless of how late it was.  He would stay late, going over every little detail. She never knew exactly what time he came home – only felt when he slipped into bed with her, awakening her with the soft touch of his lips and the gentle caress of his hands.  But no matter how late he came home, he’d always wake up and leave the apartment before she did, to attend more practice or workout training sessions.  And because of this, she often found herself worrying over the amount of sleep he was getting.

It didn’t help matters that she didn’t see him at work as often either.  True to his word, Youngbae kept it professional with her.  Kept it very brief and professional with her.  They would sometimes pass in the hall, but he was always with someone or in a hurry.  So she didn’t feel compelled to intrude or pull him away.  They always just bowed politely and greeted each other as they passed.  He always had a soft look in his eyes when they traded glances.  It made her long for his company even more.  But she knew they would see each other at home later that night, so she didn’t fret about it.  Didn’t let it get to her.

But today, Amina sighed.  Today was the start of something new.  Today was a big day for Youngbae.  His album went on sale at midnight and now he was taping his performance for Inkigayo, which would air later tomorrow afternoon.  And based on several reports from Marketing, his album was doing well.  Better than well.  There was so much outpouring support from his fans, so much love from those who waited over the years for this very moment.  She could feel the pressure for him to do well today.  It made her stomach turn into knots and stress nervously in anticipation.  She could feel herself become physically sick the more she dwelled on the telecast that was scheduled only hours from now and silently wondered how he was doing.

She hadn’t seen him all morning.

“I’m going to have you apply some of the dancers’ make-up, if you don’t mind?” Ji Eun asked, her eyes critically going over Amina’s own make-up.  She saw the basic essentials and more there and could already tell that the learning curve would be high.  This meant less time to train, which was great because they were down a make-up assistant today and were pressed for time.

“Sure,” Amina nodded.  “Anything in particular that I need to know?”

“Keep it simple.  Black kohl for tightlining and smudge a little on the waterlines.  Bold red lips.”  Ji Eun showed her briefly the level of foundations available and indicated which powder settings to use.  “There’s some bottled water here.” She pointed to a table nearby and looked back at Amina.  “If you feel tired at all,” Ji Eun advised, the double meaning not lost on Amina, “…please take a break.”

“Neh, Ji Eun unnie,” Amina bowed her head, a slight blush forming on her cheeks.  Ji Eun was one of the few who knew about her delicate condition.  “I promise… I’ll take a break.”

Satisfied with her response, Ji Eun nodded and bustled away, preparing her own station.

It was a little awkward at first, but Amina soon found her own rhythm.  After peeling off her blazer and adjusting the sections of make-up to her liking, Amina felt more in control of her task.  It helped that everyone was nice and polite.  The dancers took one look at her face and reassured her that they were confident in her abilities, so Amina fed off that energy.  She found herself bantering with a few of them, asking random questions, and laughing along with their stories.  All in all, it wasn’t a bad way to spend time away from the office.

Youngbae came strolling in, just as she was completing the last finishing touches on the remaining dancer.  He visibly paused, mid-stride, surprise evident in his small eyes.  He was half-dressed in his stage garments, a white t-shirt on, as he made his way over to Ji Eun’s station.  He slowly eased himself into the swivel chair and eyed Amina through the mirror, even while she moved right next to him.

“Kamsahamnida…” the dancer smiled, leaving the area.

Amina smiled and bowed in return.  Her eyes went directly over to Youngbae, finding his watchful gaze on her.  Her heart sped up a little despite having been in his arms earlier that very morning.  She tucked the contour brush back into her apron and placed both hands over her hips, studying him.  “So what can I do for you today, sir?  Smoky eye?  A little peach gloss?  Maybe some bronzer?”

He grinned, eying her up and down.  “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Do I know what I’m doing…” she repeated quietly, a soft smile on her lips as she started cleaning her hands and de-sanitizing them.  “I’m a girl,” Amina stated simply as if that was enough.  “I live and breathe this stuff.”

He raised his eyebrow and looked at her skeptically.

“And,” Amina relented, her lips curving into a wide smile.  “I’ve also been around enough make-up artists throughout the course of my short modeling career that I know the routine by now.”  She picked up a bottle of moisturizer.

“Do you miss it?”

She looked at him curiously.  “Miss what?”  She pumped a dime-sized portion onto her fingertips and stepped closer to him.

“Miss modeling…” He closed his eyes as her fingers deftly began moving in small sweeping motions.  Her sweet breath gently skimmed over his face.  He could smell the light scent of vanilla on her wrist, along with the hint of their shampoo which clung to her skin.

“Ani,” Amina answered quietly, concentrating on getting every inch of his face covered as she massaged her fingers into his skin.  “I only did it because my umma told me to.” 

He opened his eyes and regarded her.  Her eyes were focused on the task at hand and she didn’t appear affected or upset.  He took that as a good sign and decided to press forward, feeling suddenly greedy to learn more.

Once finished, Amina reached behind for another bottle and repeated the same routine.  She leaned over and began dabbing the liquid in concentrated places all over his face before rubbing the dots gently away with her index finger. 

“How long did you do it for?”

She paused and raised her gaze to meet his eyes.  “Modeling?” Amina quirked her eyebrow, feeling a little confused by his onset of questions. 

“Neh.”

“Umm… since I was in middle school, I guess,” Amina replied.  She rubbed the formula into the crease between his eyebrows, smoothing the worry away.  “First it was just my hands,” Amina smiled, brushing her finger through his eyebrows just for the hell of it.  They were just too incredibly y to be left alone!  She straightened and rubbed the remaining solution at his chin, feeling the rough patch where he had just shaved.  “Then when I turned fifteen and could no longer compete in pageants because of my height, my umma made me do it for our company.” 

She peered into his eyes.  “Wae?  Afraid I’m going to mess up your face?” she joked.

Youngbae chuckled hesitantly in response, feeling cornered by her inquiry.  “Ani… I just wanted to keep you talking.  It’s the only way I can have your hands on me when other people are around.”

The statement made her pause.  Amina searched his eyes, not saying a word.  It made him feel exposed.

Uncomfortable.

He shifted uneasily in his seat.

“So how are we doing?” inquired Ji Eun, coming around the rolling carts of make-up supplies.  She eyed Youngbae’s reflection through the mirror.

“He’s all set for you,” Amina announced, straightening up.  “I’ve already applied lotion and primer… but if you want my honest opinion,” she frowned slightly and looked over Youngbae’s face with a critical eye.  “I really don’t think there’s anything we can do to save his face.”  She turned to gage Ji Eun’s reaction and grinned upon hearing Youngbae’s deep chuckle.

Ji Eun chuckled at the jibe and came towards the counter to get started.

“That’s why we pay her the big bucks,” Youngbae supplied.

“Oh, is that right?” Amina retorted teasingly.  “To perform miracles?”

A devilish glint flashed in the depths of his eyes.

Amina turned around to address Ji Eun.  “Unnie, is there’s anything else-“ She gasped, feeling the force of his hands yank her down.  She tilted off balance and fell straight into Youngbae’s lap, the grip of his strong arms wrapped tightly around her lower waist.  Amina struggled to pull away, but he held on fast.  “Bae-yah, let go!” she whispered fiercely, feeling herself panic.  She could sense people glancing in their direction.  Blood rushed to her face and her heart doubled in rhythm.

He didn’t budge. “Ani, you have to apologize…” he grinned.

Her eyes beseeched him but she could tell he wasn’t even listening to her.  “Let go of me!” she seethed, her teeth clenched in anger. 

“Alright, alright,” he spoke quickly, sudden concern clouding his eyes.

She pushed angrily off of him, unaware of the commotion she was causing around her.  She stared in horror at Ji Eun’s shocked eyes and bowed quickly.  “E-excuse me,” Amina stammered.  “I-I need to use the restroom.”

Without a backward glance, Amina quickly left the room.

The door to the women’s restroom creaked open and hit the wall with a solid thud as Amina made her way in.  At first glance, it seemed empty, which eased some of the anxiety that was flowing through her veins.  God, how could she have made such a big deal out of nothing?  She knew he was only teasing her, but it was at the wrong place… at the wrong time.  It made her too painfully aware that people would draw conclusions about them… only now.  Only now, they would probably the wrong conclusions because of how she regrettably reacted towards him. 

What a mess.

Why did she have to be so sensitive about his outwardly displays of affection?  It wasn’t like he was doing anything overly inappropriate or too forward.  She should be happy that he was back to being his playful self, teasing her into submission as was their usual wont.  She just needed to learn to be comfortable with it. 

Relax. 

Breathe. 

Realize that not every playful gesture would constitute judgment or cast her in unfavorable light in other people’s eyes.  She just needed to stop caring what other people thought.  And just… be.

But that was easier said than done.  She wasn’t brought up this way.  Even to this day, she couldn’t remember her own parents showering affection towards one another in front of her.  Such outwardly displays of affection were considered indecent and inappropriate in the presence of others.  One had to show modesty at all times.  That was just the way.  But none of that mattered now.

She needed to apologize.

Walking to the sink, Amina the water faucet and ran both of her hands under the cool water.  She shook the majority of the drops off and lightly patted her face and neck with the excess, finding comfort in the damp coolness.  Turning off the water, she examined her face in the mirror and could see how flush she was.  Her cheeks were still burning from angry embarrassment and her eyes were still dilated from the emotional outburst. 

Just another minute.  In another minute she would be ready to go back out, she told herself. 

Amina reached for a paper towel from the dispenser nearby and began dabbing her face down when an audible soft sniffle come from behind her.  Was someone crying?  So lost in her own world, Amina didn’t notice anyone in the bathroom with her.  She turned around and scanned the stalls, leaning down slightly. 

There it was.  Last stall at the very end towards her left. 

Familiar gently worn black Vans.

The sight caused mixed emotions to surface.  But the better of it got to her.  Cautiously, Amina made her way over.  “Nara-yah?” Amina gently called out.  The sniffling stopped.  “It’s me… Amina.  Are you okay?”

The sound of toilet paper being rolled echoed out to her. 

“Nara-yah… would you talk to me, please?”

“I’m o-okay,” Nara called out, her voice shaking.  She blew her nose gently and sniffled some more.

“You don’t sound oka