six

It had been an excruciating month. After countless days and nights sourcing for the best silk material in town, piecing and sewing them together in the most flawless way possible, it would all be done the moment he goes on stage.

His song was released at 6 P.M. sharp, and immediately there was a sharp increase in unique listeners on music charts. Data and statistics of the album experienced a roof-top hit with no intention to drop anytime soon. His album is nothing but full of praise, from the concept, genre, and all the way to the tiniest yet deliberate details about it.

I often left the company during the wee hours of the night. Curious, I went to level two where all the practice rooms were located. His designated room was situated at the furthest end of the hallway, yet I would always notice a small ray of light shining from within. It indicated that he was in the room, probably rehearsing for the nth time that day. I hadn’t seen him much ever since I got busy with the task— a very big task at that, too.

The only time I saw him was during lunch break on a Tuesday afternoon. I was sitting with a few other stylists around my age who were helping me in the manufacturing of JB’s stage outfits. I saw him walking groggily with his manager, eyes barely opened and hair in a perfect mess. I guessed that he had spent many sleepless nights in the studio just for the comeback. I pitied him a little, but I was sure he would have felt that his efforts must have paid off seeing how well the release was doing not just domestically, but also globally.

It was around 11P.M. when we returned to the work room in the building. There were five of us, me being the one in charge while the rest were like little minions heeding my orders. It felt surreal to lead a team, but I had no other emotions but thankfulness towards them. They were respectful, efficient, and altogether amazing since day one. It also helped that we were all around the same age range and there was barely any hierarchy because we communicated like friends. I knew I would miss them the moment the era ends.

“Are all the outfits accounted for?” I asked, looking at a rack full of my masterpieces. Since JB’s comeback stage was set to be pre-recorded at dawn, I had to make sure everything was prepared and in tip-top condition. I don’t think I would’ve been able to tolerate any mistakes from myself since I was really being a perfectionist this time.

“Yeap!” one of them answered cheerfully.

I nodded, then proceeded to sit on an empty chair. We were basically lazing around and waiting for the clock to strike 12A.M, so that we could start packing the essentials and proceed to the performance venue where JB was set to perform in.

“His new song is really good,” Hana commented. “He’s really good-looking too.”

We all chuckled at her statement. She was honest, but I also had to agree.

The time eventually came and we dragged the luggages down, putting it in the boot of the company van. The streets were dark and empty, with the sound of occasional screeching of motorcycles speeding. We travelled slowly to the venue, enjoying the calmness and serenity of a night drive in silence, bracing ourselves for chaos that was about to dawn upon us.

---

The moment he entered the waiting room, silence prevailed for a short second before we went back to our duties. He plopped down onto the chair, earphones in with a cup of Starbucks in his hand. It reminded me of my encounter with him on my first day at work, him looking all tired, eyebags prevalent under his tanned skin. Yet, he was still a professional on stage as if he wasn't yawning a second ago.

Time check: 1.17 A.M.

He was scheduled to go on stage at 3.00 A.M. Sometimes I wondered how inhumane it was to expect idols to be up and about at such an unearthly hour. It was also fascinating to see fans queueing up outside the venue at such a timing as if they didn’t have work or school in a few hours’ time. Everything about the industry continued to amaze me.

The makeup team arrived a few minutes later and it was an indication for me to pass him the stage outfit so he could go and change. I made sure to provide him with everything he needed, including comfortable yet fashionable sport shoes. Carrying the hanger on my left hand, I slowly walked towards him and realised he was looking at me from the mirror. I smiled, passing him the clothes and he took it, our hands brushing against one another’s in that short millisecond. I cleared my throat, aware of the exchange and placed his shoes before him.

It was the aura that JB exuded that I still wasn’t used to. It made me seem so far from him, like we weren’t same-aged friends that have had many encounters with one another. Like I didn’t cry in front of him not once, but twice, and he has never consoled me. Like he had never complimented me, and I have never hugged him. Like everything that I was sure had happened suddenly convinced me otherwise that it was all a dream.

We didn’t say anything even though I itched to. The last time we conversed was on the day of the selections, in the practice room. It’s crazy how a simple two letter word, “Hi” was even difficult to utter, even though it threatened many times to slip out of the tip of my tongue. He eventually pushed his chair back, standing up before proceeding to the washroom outside the room. I stood there silently, watching his figure drift further and further away from me.

I sat down on the sofa, feeling a little em