18 White is for the live-show ticket    “Why do you have to drag me to this, Se?” Soojung asked, both irritated and tired.
  After a long day of work, photoshoots, catwalks and all, all Soojung wanted to do was go home, have a long, warm shower and lie and sleep on her bed without the presence of anyone else, especially the ever so annoying Oh Sehun. But when the rainbow-head came barging in to her photoshoot with Harper’s waving two tickets to a band’s one-time live show right on her face, her entire plan was ruined and now she found herself on the passenger seat of her car with Sehun driving her to -knows-where.
  “Chill, okay? Sheez, you’re all hipped up, Soo, y’know that?”
  Soojung rolled her eyes. “Don’t start with me, Se. I want to go home. Turn the car around.”
  Sehun breathed a sigh. “Look, Junhong gave me a ticket to Laura’s live show yesterday. He told me got it for free but couldn’t go so maybe I could since he knew I think Laura’s pretty cool ‘cause he heard me listening to their song a few days back. I wanted to see the show with you but the tickets were sold out so I had a hard time getting one for you. Now can you just appreciate my efforts and go with me?”
  Again, Soojung tried to hide the blush. If there was a flush-meter, she could’ve made it to Guinness for the highest blush record she’d made. She just thank God there wasn’t, the same time she thanked heaven for providing the darkness of the night, making it somewhat unobvious that she was a shade of red.
  “Fine, fine,” she faked defeat. “But you know I don’t listen to Laura… much,” she added with a guilty look when Sehun threw her a disapproving glare.
  “You have a crush on their drummer,” he stated matter-of-factly, his tone teasing though.
  Soojung have to roll her eyes at that. “I don’t have a crush on him,” she defended, looking out the window for distraction.
  He laughed mockingly. “Sure because you have a picture of him on your phone.”
  “No I don’t!”
  “Yes you do.”
  “I hate you!”
  “You love me,” he said thoughtlessly as a retort but an awkward silence followed because they both knew the meaning of the utterance of those words meant otherwise.
  The remaining minutes of the car ride remained as silent as the dead night, with Sehun focusing on the road ahead and Soojung gaining neck pain from trying not to look anywhere else but outside the window.
 
Honestly, Jinri blamed Sora. She believed it was her best friend’s fault she met Park Chanyeol again in that freaking apartment, had coffee with him, was reminded of their precious, should’ve-been-forgotten moments together, and was invited to watch him perform, the reason she was now standing on the queue outside the entrance of The Pitch, waiting with a bunch of fangirls in presenting their tickets to a tall, meaty security guard-slash-bouncer who was standing bored-ly right beside the doorframe.
  “Ticket, please,” the bouncer’s deep, overwhelming voice boomed on Jinri’s eardrums like a beatbox.
  She handed him her ticket and was allowed to enter, but she hadn’t reached her third step inside when her phone suddenly rang. Kim Jongin’s name flashed on its screen like bright lights on a suburban street, reminding her that she was bounded in a relationship and what she was about to do right now would clearly mess everything up yet again. But instead of being enlightened by the lights, she was blinded.
  “Hello?” she answered her phone.
  “Hi, pretty. Where are you?”
  She swore she could hear his smile but the guilt just wouldn’t weight enough to make her turn around and leave. She knew she was a right now but what could she actually do?
  “Why, something’s up?” she asked as she ran towards the nearest restroom to clog the obvious noise around her. But when she opened the door, a couple of girls, standing in front the mirror, applying layers of make-up, were squealing and talking about none other than Park Chanyeol and his band mates.
  “Are you at B? I want to see you,” he spilled.
  “Uhh…” She the faucet to block out the squeals a little. “I’m at a mall,” she replied, trying so hard to sound sure but sounded far from that. She sensed the girls beside her gave her a brief look, understanding well she was lying on the person on the other line.
  “Mall? What mall? You’re at 12th Avenue?”
  “What? Oh, no. Not there.”
  Jinri tapped her foot on the marbled floor impatiently but sighed in relief immediately after the two girls left the room, not after they squealed noisily one last time.
  “Then where? It’s 11 o’clock already and I don’t know any other mall except 12th Avenue that’s open this late.”
  “Uhh, Jongin, I really want to see you too but I’m tired right now and I don’t think I can come and see you. We can arrange another day for this, okay?”
  “I know. That’s why I’ll come and fetch you.”
  She sighed. Jongin was sometimes really hard. If this was another time, she could’ve felt excited and giddy over his protectiveness, but right now, all she needed was everything except a shove on her face with a paper written the word guilt. And Jongin was providing it for her.
  “There’s no need. I can manage. I’ll be going now, hmm?”
  There was a moment of silence as if the guy was contemplating whether to give in or not. He finally decided to.
  “Okay, fine. Just take care, babe, okay? And tell me when you get home.”
  “I got you.”
  “I love you,” he told her.
  Silence. And then, “I love you too.”
  She wanted to puke. She wanted to punch herself twice, thrice or more until she