Ten minutes go by. Seungwan can’t help but sense Joohyun’s annoyance reverberating through the blue ticks on her messaging app. Amusement creeps over her and she places her phone on her little cherry coffee table. She heads over to the boxes by her door to move them in. For a second, she casts a furtive glance through her gate at the shut door of the apartment unit beside hers, letting out a contemplative hum before heading back in with her boxes. Her heavy wood door quietly shuts behind her.

It’s nearly 11pm when Seungwan is done with unpacking the last of her belongings. She settles down on her loveseat near her balcony with a tired sigh. She picks up her phone to check Joohyun’s schedule. It’s packed. Seungwan gulps nervously. A long schedule can only mean a crabby Joohyun. She checks her messages. No messages relating to her new job. Nothing from La Rouge.

And nothing from Joohyun. She should be sleeping by now, if she knows what’s good for her.

Seungwan glances at her guitar. Her first and only, it’s been with her for the full thirteen years since she first started learning how to play the instrument. Its aged koa wood body and worn fretboard lend it its charming look. She picks it up and begins to calmly pluck the strings almost mindlessly, after all, it’s muscle memory by now. Its warm tones fill the quiet night air.

[The next morning]

Seungwan is awake before her alarm, switching it off a full minute before it can ring. She slips out of bed and lets out a body-shuddering yawn. It’s 6.00am, and her first full day as a manager at La Rouge begins now.

It’s 6.30am by the time she’s in the kitchen after her usual wash-up routine. She sets her coffee machine to brew her morning beverage. While waiting, she begins her meal prep. By 7.45am, four boxes sit on her counter—two for her and two for Joohyun, covering their lunches and dinners for the day.

A full programme for La Rouge’s artists and management team meant that there’s simply no time for her to run out and buy food over the day. And God forbid that the manic schedule and lack of proper meals set Joohyun on a warpath. With Seungwan at the receiving end of her wrath.

The manager shivers at the thought and quickly stuffs the boxes into a small tote bag. She then gets changed into her work clothes.

At 8.00am, she picks up her phone to text Joohyun, asking her for her coffee order. By 8.15am, there’s still no reply. Seungwan contemplates calling, only to remember the fuss Joohyun kicked up the evening before. She shrugs and heads out with her backpack and tote bag. As she pulls open her door, Seungwan is surprised to find a pink post-it stuck to it. She plucks it off gently and her eyes start scanning the words:

“Hey there! Normally I wouldn’t tell I just wanted to say that I was having some trouble sleeping last night, but your guitar playing was really calming and helped me. I don’t usually write notes like this, but I felt like I should tell you. Keep doing what you do! You play really well!

— a grateful neighbour”

Seungwan feels a comforting warmth bubble up within her as she re-reads the note one more time. Taking a deep breath, she psyches herself up for a long day ahead, feeling courage flow from the post-it in her hand into her chest. She puts on her brightest smile and tucks the post-it away into the hidden compartment in her backpack. You got this, Son Seungwan.

At 8.45am sharp, Seungwan is at Joohyun’s door, after having sprinted down to the nearest café to grab her best guess of the soloist’s coffee order. Just as she reaches up to knock on the door, it pulls open and a slightly-less-annoyed-than-yesterday-looking Joohyun appears.

Without missing a beat, Seungwan greets her, “Good morning, Irene.”

Joohyun stares at her for a while, narrowing her eyes.

“Uh, coffee?” Seungwan holds up an iced Americano.

The soloist steps out from behind her door, shutting it behind her while the suspicion in her eyes now attacks the manager’s offering.

Wendy straightens her shoulders, “You didn’t reply my text so I took a guess.”

Joohyun sighs and quietly accepts the coffee from her hand. Wendy then holds out her other hand, clutching on to a small brown paper bag. The soloist frowns in confusion.

“Bagel. You shouldn’t drink coffee on an empty stomach.”

Joohyun stares at her manager for a while, as though she’d suddenly grown antlers, “Isn’t weight management part of your job?”

“Health management is a much more important part of my job,” Wendy replies, her tone neutral.

Joohyun feels slight embarrassment warm up her cheeks and she reluctantly takes the paper bag.

Joohyun munches on her bagel quietly in the car as her thoughts return to what had happened the night before. She’d spent most of the evening grumbling, the one currently in the driver’s seat her subject of complaint. She couldn’t wind down that night, because she wasn’t done wrestling with the fact that she had taken her frustration with her label out on her relatively innocent manager and had probably made an enemy out of Wendy.

[Last night]

After a full hour of tossing and turning in her bed, she heads out to the living room to sit, hoping that the night air will help clear her head. Almost as if it's been awaiting her ears, the soft notes of a guitar begin to float over to her apartment.

Joohyun's sure the guitarist is an experienced one. While the chords don’t go where she thinks they would, they meld together in a progression that is refreshing and soothing. As she fo