She worked her best to play along just to get this over with as soon as possible. After a few more clicks of the camera shutter, Jongin released her. She couldn’t run off the set yet, because the stylist came running toward them to make adjustments to their makeup, their clothes, hair or whatever that needed adjusting. Standing there uneasily Namjoo stared at the floor. Her physical self was burning up. If it wasn’t her face that was turning cherry red, then she hoped nothing else was.

It was embarrassing to be seen this way by anyone. And she and Jongin were definitely not that intimate.

When the stylist scurried off after finishing touchups on Jongin Namjoo asked without thinking, “Does she need to come so often?”

“It’s her job.” He told.

Namjoo hesitated, reprimanding herself for opening at all. “I mean…I’m just…wondering.”

Blinking quickly, she looked away flustered. Goddamn.

“How…how many are we shooting today?” she forced herself to say something when she looked at him again.

Jongin appeared like his usual self: loathing and unapproachable, but that was just him. People still loved it no matter what. Women, especially.

“Until they’re satisfied,” Jongin answered.

“We’re not going to do that again, are we?” Namjoo wondered.

“Do what?”

She blushed. “Never mind.”

Jongin made no comment. Then he said, “They make you wear perfume?”

Her eyes landed on him then darted off. Grabbing the sleeve of her dress she sniffed herself.

“It smells strong. Don’t wear so much next time.”

“I didn’t spray it myself,” Namjoo told.

“I know.” He said matter-of-factly.

She looked away from him. What the hell was up with him? She also didn’t want to know how closely he paid attention to her. Not now. She didn’t think he even paid an ounce of attention, but thinking about it now just made her uncomfortable.

“Are you drunk?” Namjoo couldn’t help but ask.

“We’re getting ready for the next round,” the photographer shouted. “Are you two ready?”

“I don’t drink when I work.”

“But…what are we doing?” Namjoo asked.

“We’re a couple taking pictures,” Jongin said shrugging his blazer off. “If you stop thinking so much you’d have fun.”

Fun?

Namjoo glanced up when he lifted his blazer over their heads to shield them from imaginative rain. Just the two of them in his private little makeshift tent. Was Jongin having fun? It was an out of the world thing to think about. Jongin having fun…playing her boyfriend. Or maybe he just liked working.

She peered up at him nearly mesmerized again. What kind of person was he?

Her heart leapt a little when he smiled down at her. Wow, he was really handsome. The corners of her lips lifted and she smiled too.

Minutes later she was having fun as they assaulted each other with the balls laying around. They laughed and giggled as the staff threw fake flowers into the air, and continued shrieking and screaming – mostly her – as she chased Jongin for revenge for throwing three balls at her at once.

₪₪₪₪₪

By the end of the day Jongin was promised a truckload of the sweet filled bread they were endorsing. He planned to give the food away to charity because he would not eat all those carbs by himself. On the other hand, he was plenty sure Namjoo would swallow those carbs whole.

“You sure you don’t need me?” Chanyeol asked after Jongin stepped out of the changing room.

“We’ll be fine,” Jongin assured.

“It might be hectic out there,” Chanyeol warned, “you should check the news.”

“We’re just grabbing coffee,” Jongin reminded with a stare.

“Go somewhere private for lunch. Grab a VIP room or something. I could make a reservation,” Chanyeol offered.

“Are you my nanny?” Jongin raised a brow. “Just leave.”

“Call me if you need me,” Chanyeol said before leaving.

The warehouse was being emptied of its earlier gears. The staff decreasing by the number, everyone preparing to call it done for the day. The photographer was long gone and the stylist cleaning up her makeup counter. Namjoo hadn’t yet stepped out of her dressing room. Jongin wondered what was taking her so long. It didn’t seem like she had many things to fuss over.

He waited around, checked his phone, and went through the gossip section. Chanyeol was accurately worried. Someone had written up a rumor that he’d cheated on Naeun with Namjoo and that was why they’d broken up.

Perfect.

That would be all the hype for several days. Hyunki might even end up questioning him – them – for the truth. So who really was Namjoo, Hyunki might ask. Jongin couldn’t give an answer. He had already been honest.

The dressing room door opened and Jongin quickly tucked his phone away. Namjoo hadn’t been able to wipe off her makeup. He also realized the stubborn artificial material was too stubborn to come up with just a wipe of a towel. She still looked all right in her all too casual clothes. And pretty.

“Coffee?” he asked. “Maybe juice.”

Namjoo walked up to him with a dent in her brows. “Do we have to?”

“I’m your ride. I call the shots,” he reminded.

“Coffee,” Namjoo mumbled brushing by.

He drove around the corner of the densely-populated district and discovered a parking space almost at once. Lucky him. Pulling into the spot he waited for a car to pass before stepping out. Heads turned and people murmured his name when they recognized him. Jongin waited for Namjoo to cross the street. Then they were in the tiny coffee shop that smelled of fresh ground beans and cakes that led up to cavity.

There was a line. Around them conversations stilled. It was burden of the celebrity life. Attention wherever you went. Eyes ogling, the surrounding whispering. You felt small in the center of a large world. Needles threatened to pick you apart from all sides when those you didn’t know acted like they knew you inside out, like you were long time friends. It could get uncomfortable. People were cheeky, sly, and bold. He could end up either being the victim or perpetrator. Maybe both.

After many incidents, Jongin had calmed to it. Never got used to it though. Chanyeol dealt with that burden, because that’s what managers did. They told people off, gave their star space.

Namjoo inched close, uncomfortable to the attention. People wouldn’t talk to her. He didn’t think they would because he was there. Pulling out his phone to ignore their busybody environment, Jongin asked, “What do you want for lunch? Steak? Prime ribs?”

“I can’t believe he would choose someone like that over Naeun,” a young girl critiqued in a loud voice that was obviously meant to be heard. Jongin’s eyes darted over to the female sitting with a friend by the window. She turned away with the roll of her eyes and continued whispering to her companion.

Very suddenly, silence swept the coffee shop like a thread. Everyone hushed and some pulled their phones out. Others didn’t even understand what was going on.

Grabbing Namjoo’s hand Jongin tugged her toward the door. She refused to budge, so he pulled harder and soon they were out the door and across the street.

“You know what, lets just eat,” Jongin declared when they both got into his car.

Namjoo glanced at him. “We should’ve stayed in there. I don’t care what they say.”

She about opened the door again but Jongin hurriedly stepped on the accelerator stopping her. Yelping, Namjoo threw herself back into the seat.

“Don’t do that!” Namjoo scolded.

“Put your seatbelt on,” he ordered.

“Sheesh,” she mumbled zipping the equipment over her. When he turned into the driveway of his house she finally spoke again. “Why are we here?”

He didn’t bother answering.

“Hello!” Namjoo shouted after him as he got out of the car.

Upon reaching his doorstep she finally stepped out of the vehicle hurrying after him. By the time she reached him he was already inside. A smirk dripped across his face as he walked into his kitchen and listened to her fling her shoes off at the doorway.

“What do you want?” Jongin asked opening his fridge. “I have a full fridge.”

“You’re going to cook?” Namjoo questioned with disbelief.

“You belittled me last time, so I have to show you how good I am.” He pushed up his sleeves.

Still behind him, Namjoo stared bewildered.

“The coffee shop was nonsense. Pretend we never went there,” Jongin said pulling ingredients out.

“Wow,” Namjoo breathed. “You’re being nice? Ok, you can be nice but not that nice.”

He turned around to look at her, see how amused she might be. Crossing her arms, Namjoo turned to look elsewhere. He scoffed.

“You have a big TV. I’m going to watch it,” Namjoo said when he turned his back to her.

“Whatever,” he replied and he swore that even from the sink he could smell her perfume wafting through the distance between them.

It was a pretty floral smell. Too strong for his liking but he had nothing negative to say about it. In his mind, it was still pretty vivid. The scent of her skin assaulting his nose as he breathed into her neck. Whoever’s idea it had been to spray that amount of perfume needed a thank you card.

He’d had a good day, a fun shoot. Today he got her laughing and it was a good feeling that came from it.

Midway through meal preparation Namjoo jumped toward the kitchen table from the couch. She watched him for a few seconds then asked, “So, why didn’t we just go to a five-star restaurant? Don’t tell me it’s because you’re petty and didn’t want to treat me today.”

“I’m petty and didn’t want to treat you,” Jongin murmured from the stove.

Namjoo made a face at him. “Are you done yet? It’s almost been an hour.”

“Perfection takes time unless you want to get sent to the ER for raw meat,” Jongin cursed.

Leaning back into the chair Namjoo crossed her arms. “What’s with this Naeun thing? Did you cheat on her?”

Pausing, he glanced up from the pan on the stove. Oil hissed and jumped across the cooking tool.

“I heard them whispering about you cheating,” Namjoo went on. “Is that why your wedding was called off?”

Jongin almost dropped the spatula in his hand. He whirled around. “What?”

Straightening up Namjoo appeared flustered. “No…I mean…I was just saying…I mean, wondering…you know, never mind.”

For a long second, he observed her. “I don’t know who wrote that, but I was never getting married nor did I propose. There was no wedding.”

Namjoo silenced. Wondering if he’d shamed her, Jongin began plating the food.

“Reporters write all sorts of stuff. Don’t believe everything you read,” Jongin cautioned setting a plate in front of her.

Sitting down he picked up his spoon to eat. Curious, he looked at her again to find an expression of loss and confusion swimming in her frown. When she looked at him he quickly glanced away.

“You’re being nice,” she said again.

“Not nice. Considerate,” he corrected.

She narrowed an eye at him but turned her attention to the meat on her plate. Taking a bite, she savored the flavors bursting in then commented, “Not bad.”

“Told you I cook,” he smugly restated.

₪₪₪₪₪

Nice Jongin made a weird Jongin but Namjoo couldn’t complain. At the very least, she wasn’t heading home with a migraine. And they hadn't argued. What a record.

Pulling to a stop across her house Namjoo unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”

When she stepped out she turned to see that Jongin had followed her out. Hesitating she glanced at her house then down the road for any passersby that might be watching them.

“Um…you can leave now,” Namjoo told.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” He offered.

“Why?” she asked more defensively than curiously.

“Manners,” he said and turned to head toward her house.

Dropping hands at her sides Namjoo threw her head back. Taking in a fresh gulp of air she trotted after him. Weird Jongin. Strange Jongin. Uncomfortable Namjoo. That was the equation in the mix.

Digging out her keys she gave him one more glance, unsure about what he really expected. Before unlocking the door, she said, “Well, we’re here.” Then she hesitated and finally said it, “Sorry, for earlier.”

Slightly shrugging, he said, “If you were interested, I would have told you. Goodnight, Namjoo.”

It should have ended there, but Jongin lingered a bit longer as if there were something he wanted to do. Namjoo silently stood there like she was waiting for him to finish what he’d started. Strangely, she didn’t turn to head inside and leave him on her doorstep. They stood there kind of looking at each other and kind of not looking at each other.

“Um…bye,” Namjoo quietly bid her farewell then turned to head inside.

As the door swung shut Namjoo deeply exhaled. What the hell was that? Clutching her shirt she felt her heart race.

Weird Jongin was getting to her.

₪₪₪₪₪

Manager Kwak picked her up early the following morning. They headed straight to the salon to get her hair and makeup done. Namjoo expected to fly right in and right back out. Instead, that morning she was greeted by Son Naeun.

“Hello,” Naeun greeted her. “It’s our first time running into each other, isn’t it?”

“Oh…” Namjoo turned around in the fat leather chair she was sitting on. She had no idea Naeun also used this salon. Really, what a small world.

She watched Naeun take the seat beside her. The available stylist started combing her long luscious hair that shone like silk under the light. Obviously, her hair was in a much better condition than Namjoo’s.

“Um…thanks for the food truck,” Namjoo thanked.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Naeun smiled prettily.

If she wasn’t feeling it, Namjoo was definitely feeling ten times the awkwardness. They weren’t really friends nor were they even acquaintances.

“How is filming?” Naeun wondered.

“It’s all right,” Namjoo replied nervously. She couldn’t help but wonder if Taehyung had told her about the intimate scene she’d had with Jongin the other day. Out of nervousness, she blabbered, “Jongin’s been really weird lately. I think it’d help if someone he knows visited the set. Maybe he might get back to normal.” Adding a nervous laugh, she turned she away and slapped herself.

Ok, something was wrong with her.

An hour later Namjoo arrived at the filming area feeling famished. Heaving a sigh, she shuffled right over to her chair where her manager had said her script would be. She just felt out of it and very unlike herself. Was it her illusion or had it become clearer to her overnight that Jongin had been breathing her scent when he’d back hugged her yesterday?

Jongin the romantic?

Namjoo swatted the thought away. Truth was, she didn’t really care. All these rules in the celebrity world were too binding, but they had nothing to do with her. She still wanted to get closer to Taehyung and she still wanted to do whatever it was she wanted to do. She didn’t mind getting to know reporter Minseok. Being free was her nature and she had nothing to complain about it. But truth also was that Jongin made her think of him.

Like yesterday. On her doorstep. What was that?

Stopping in her steps she stared at the cup of coffee on her chair. The brand was from the shop she and Jongin had been at yesterday, but they’d left after the rude comment. She looked around but didn’t see Jongin. Gladly picking the cup up she took a sip of the fresh coffee.

Leaving her script behind she walked around in search of Jongin or maybe Chanyeol who might know where the celebrity was. She stopped when a sudden commotion picked up the electricity in the air. Perhaps, she thought, that was Jongin making his grand entrance. That was the snob he was and it made sense.

Turning toward the noise Namjoo followed the people moving toward the door. The staff had gathered up front blocking her view, but she did recognize a white van up front. A van that only well-known celebrities drove. Tip-toeing she tried to get sight of the star. Seconds later the crowd split to make way for the popular identity making its entrance. Namjoo stepped back with them. Her grip on the cup tightened then loosened simultaneously when she saw who it was.

Son Naeun was here.