Before stepping out from the silver Porsche, where valets standing patiently at the sides waiting to whisk the car away, she gave him a fleeting look, the one she always had to tell him to put his game face on. He nodded and complied with her instruction.

Tonight, they assumed the roles of a lifetime, she as an accomplished and distinguished actress, winner of several awards and he, a well-known A-list rock star, with many platinum and gold albums to his name.

“Remember to smile, even if you don’t like the colour of the husband’s bowtie or her unflattering dress,”she warned, shooting daggers at him. He opened his mouth to protest. “Not another word,” she repeatedly replied, placing a finger over his lips.

“And yes, even if he looks like JB, I do not want to hear it.” He frowned.

“Don’t frown, otherwise your wrinkles will appear,” she barked, spotting the frown he made no effort to conceal. “You’re not exactly as good looking as you were once before,”she retorted. “Hey, I am still handsome. I made it to the Forbes’s top 50 list of iest Rock Star, and that is saying something,” he argued, voice dripping with pride.

“Those wrinkles are proofs of my hard-working efforts to make money and please your nitpicky family, especially your mother,” he added.

“Don’ttalk about my mother like that.”

“Why do we even attend this? There are no musicians here that I can actually interact or mingle,” he whined. She motioned to him to keep quiet. Obviously, he refused to obey her.

“I should have stayed at home instead. I have a feeling that this will be a dreadful party.”

“Stop with your whining already. Sheesh, you whine much worse than my mother do.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you do. You whine all the time, when things don’t go your way. Now, is a perfect example. There, I rest my case.”

The years they spent together was never spared from childish arguments, like these. She crossed her arms, refusing to speak to him after he touched a nerve he was not supposed to (her mother). He exhaled noisily, shaking his head as they both made their way to the designated destination. Once the double-doors entrance were within their sights, the childish banter left their face, bearing no traces of animosity and annoyance that were formed moments ago.

They walked, hand in hand, towards the double-doors entrance as the doors cracked open by the respective butlers, he patted her hand gently and she gripped his tightly when they descended the stairs, leading to the lobby.

It was nothing out of the commonplace, all eyes were on them. They continued to stride in unison, greeting the hosts and the other guests. They made small talk with other couples and singles-alike, though she did most of the talking and he stood there, laughing on cue and sometimes, sheepishly grin at her like an idiot.

Nonetheless, he knew that their eyes were actually on her, not him. He was included as well, because he was standing right next to her. Obviously, they had no choice but to embrace his presence, too. The thought of them staring at her, either with lust or envy, always managed to darken his expression and dampen his lively mood, and it never went unnoticed by her.

She ended the conversation with a nice young man, claiming to be a producer in search for star to be cast in his latest movie, by excusing herself. She ambled towards his direction. He quickly tried to get rid of the third glass of champagne he had, offering it to some random older men and able to be liberating of the alcohol just minutes before she arrived.

“I saw that. You better lay off your fingers from any wine, champagne or all types of alcoholic drinks in the next couple of hours or I will chop off your fingers,” she threatened, plastered a fake smile on her face. He raised his hands up, and placed a cross over his heart, “As you wish, your highness. I promised no alcohol or what so ever.” The goofy smile did not leave his face, making the fake smile to melt away, replaced with a genuine one.

“That’s better,”she grinned. “You better return yourself to the party,” he advised her. After all, the reasons why they attend parties like these, was purely for her sake to socialise with potential work prospects.

“Oh, I will. After I make sure you’re enjoying the party.”

“I am enjoying the party. See,” he pointed to the smile on his own face. She scoffed. “From my stand point of view, you are enjoying the party alright, particularly the champagne.”

“Tell me the truth, Jin Yoo Jin. Do you feel alright?” Her voice lowered, almost close to a whisper, and she held his gaze with concerned flashed in her brown eyes.

“Yes, I feel wonderful tonight,” he replied, brushing away a lock of hair fallen out of place. He briefly gazed at her, carving a small smile and nodded towards the direction of the producer. “Go, and be the ferocious Rian I know you came to be. Beside, another project will finally get you the grand piano you always wanted,” his tone was light and teasing, that was enough to confirm her that his state of mind was okay with her to mix around while he glued himself to the tray of drinks.

Even when she was engrossed talking to a fellow actress on the finer works of a certain director, occasionally, her eyes would searched for him in the masses of people before briefly returning her sights to Ham Eunjung. It might be clairvoyance, psychic connection, called it whatever you want, Rian always knew to look for him and she never had to wonder.

He would be there, drowning his miserable time in red wine and he may be on to the fifth glass. He was always stubborn since their schooling days and the promise he made earlier on was bound to be broken.