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Chapter 5: Just Right

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“Fingers on keys are a lot like fingers interlocking when two people hold hands. You can just tell if they’re meant to be, if they’re just right.”

“But how will I know if it’s just right, Mommy?”

“If it feels right, you’ll know.”

My fingers pressed against the glass entrance to the music store.

“If it feels right, will you always stay to listen to me play?”

The woman laughed, “Of course, always, now hurry inside, if we don’t go now, we might ~wake up~.”

“Wake up, Alice.”

My eyes groggily rolled opened as light streamed through the large windows that covered two out of the four walls. I struggled briefly to remember where I was, blinking out what light the white curtains couldn't conceal. It would have been hard enough to come to my senses without the dream, but that certainly hadn’t helped.

I probably would have stayed lying there much longer had the smell not hit me. My eyes widened, and I sat straight up in the bed, my hair matted and tangled around my face.

“Wow, you look pretty rough,” the boy in front of me held up a tray covered with possibly every pastry known to man and a cup of coffee that looked so thick I wondered if he had blended in an entire giant-sized chocolate bar, “No worries, though. I brought you the perfect morning pick-me-up.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Jackson beat me to it, busting open the door like his life depended on getting to the other side.

“BAMBAM! Do you know how incredibly unhealthy that breakfast is? You could give her a heart attack! You could put her in the hospital, and then what? Actually, is this how you are trying to make up for causing her to be homeless, by giving her a home in the emergency room? This is enough chocolate to drown a grizzly bear, and it’s not even organic! Have you learned nothing from the articles I emailed you about the benefits of organic foods? Did you even read them? Have you-”

“Jackson, I was just trying to be nice! Girls like stuff like this, you know?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who likes this stuff,” a level-headed Mark leaned against the doorway not daring to enter the room like the others. “Also, don’t you guys know it’s rude not to knock. You probably scared the out of her.”

Jackson looked as if it was the first time the thought had occurred to him, “Omo, I’m so sorry. I hope you’ll forgive, BamBam, he’s kind of childish sometimes.”

BamBam looked crushed as if Jackson had been the sole reason for his breakfast plans ending poorly, but before he could protest, I finally got the chance to speak up.

“Uhm, could you all point me to the bathroom? I wanted to shower… if you don’t mind.”

BamBam and Jackson looked at each other as if shocked I hadn’t sided with either of them.

Mark just nodded, “Down the hall, to the the right, first door, can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.”

Carefully moving aside BamBam’s tray, I climbed out of bed and gathered up the few belongings I had brought with me.

“Sorry, I’m just not really a big sweets person, but if you wait for me to shower, I’ll cook you all a big ‘thank you’ breakfast,” I smiled at BamBam.

He sighed, looking down at his failed attempt, “It’s okay, I’m sure Yugyeom will eat it.”

I nodded, smiling. I wasn’t sure who Yugyeom was, but if he was willing to take that bullet for me, I’m sure he and I could get along just fine.

“Thanks, BamBam,” I thanked Jackson and Mark too before finding my way down the hall.

It felt amazing to wash away all of the grime of the prior day’s journey. I had been so tired the night before, I hadn’t even taken off my makeup, and now my skin was paying the ultimate price.

Luckily, my suitcase had made it through the little adventure after being chucked out of an apartment and dragged for miles with one broken wheel. I fished around inside for something comfortable. Today was orientation, and I knew that would likely entail a lot of walking, which I was quite tired of by this point. Finally I pulled out an army green romper, a light jacket, and some combat boots, and left the room, my hair still slightly damp from the shower. Back in the bedroom I slapped on some fresh makeup, signature winged liner included, of course, but nothing too crazy.

I took the chance in the faint glow of the morning light that drifted through a long, slanted window to look around the room. The walls were all white, which gave it the appearance of being bigger than it actually was, but it was spacious enough considering how little it contained. It looked like it belonged in a house being staged. Frames with no pictures and draws with no belongings were all that I found. There was a chest at the end of the bed that looked promising, but not wanting to pry too much, I left it alone.

The three musketeers no longer stood guard at my door, so I tasked myself with finding my own way to the kitchen. My vague memory from the night before left my with the basic knowledge that I was on the fourth floor of the building, and from what I could tell, aside from the bathroom and the room I had slept in, there were two other rooms on this floor. As I approached the doors of the two diagonal rooms, I noticed a pair of perfectly balanced whiteboards, one for each door, that read, respectively, Mark and Jackson. The funny thing was that, despite their perfect symmetry, the two boards were nothing alike. While Jackson’s board looked almost as if a unicorn had thrown up alphabet soup on it (for a lack of better words), Mark’s was neatly written in blue ink with the Korean hangeul version of his name, 마크, written underneath.