Chapter Text
Rumi was tired of all of it.
She could see Celine chatting softly with Bobby in a secluded corner of the room, occasionally greeting one notable guest or another. Every now and then, they even pulled Rumi over to introduce her and pose for a few photos.
It was a spectacular gala. Everyone present was someone important… award-winning artists who had worked relentlessly to be where they were. Rich and famous people gathered under the same roof, sharing smiles and talking about future projects, all dressed in elegant, expensive outfits.
Rumi had sung for the entire room. Of course she had.
She was the sensation of the moment, the anthem of K-pop, her solo career skyrocketing.
Her voice had shattered record after record, and before long she had become a global icon. She had everything.
And yet, she felt like a stupid teenager who’d been forced to attend a Christmas party she never wanted to go to.
She wasn’t particularly fond of Christmas, but she knew enough to recognize that this kind of stiff, silent atmosphere wasn’t what it was supposed to be. Still, she found herself smiling politely, exchanging cheerful looks and business small talk under the intense supervision of her mentor.
She was Ryu Rumi, the K-pop superstar.
She was Ryu Rumi… and Celine was treating her like a child.
So, after one or two sharp looks, she resigned herself to grabbing a glass of that sparkling, awful-tasting drink and pretending she enjoyed watching a bunch of people in overpriced suits mingle.
Her outfit wasn’t a dress, just tight jeans and an elegant satin shirt that revealed a hint of her throat. Nice to look at, exhausting to wear for too long.
The only good thing about being forced to attend the event was that she might finally get to talk to her best friend, Mira, a renowned model and dancer who had also been invited.
Or rather, forced to attend by Celine, since they were under the same agency. Though when it came to Mira, nothing was ever guaranteed.
Rumi knew that if Celine had annoyed her enough, Mira simply wouldn’t show up… which would be disappointing, as it would make the night feel a bit sad.
And, of course, things could always be worse.
Jinu.
Her ex-boyfriend.
“Rumi, it’s a miracle Celine managed to drag you out of the rehearsal room for once,” he said as he approached her, dressed in a fitted black tuxedo and holding a glass of champagne. He wore the kind of smile that melted fans instantly, paired with a confidence that could knock anyone off balance.
Rumi glanced around. Celine was busy talking to someone whose name she couldn’t remember, and Bobby was focused on his phone, probably scheduling upcoming events and interviews.
Which meant there was no escape from this conversation.
She didn’t bother doing anything more than offering him a camera-ready smile for the small press crowd lurking among the guests.
“Someone has to liven the place up, don’t you think?” Her tone was perfect, her smile soft, her hands folded neatly in front of her. She looked like a magazine cover…yet there was still that familiar knot in her stomach.
“You sang beautifully,” Jinu said, nodding with that same smile. He briefly glanced at one of the cameras before turning his attention back to her. He took a sip of his drink and sighed quietly, as if he were just as tired as she was.
“It’s just my job…” Rumi accepted the compliment easily, forcing her smile to widen just a little.
The public still had them pegged as a fictional favorite couple. They had never confirmed nor denied anything (despite dating for only a few weeks) and openly acknowledging their breakup would be like putting a noose around each other’s necks.
Neither of them wanted to ruin the other’s career, even if they didn’t get along particularly well.
They had to keep up appearances a little longer. Maybe until they both retired.
“I hate to talk about work during such a…festive moment, but I don’t think you’d mind, right?” Jinu drawled, glancing sideways at his manager, who hadn’t taken his eyes off him all night.
In the end, they were both puppets…slaves to the desires of a ruthless industry.
Rumi felt a small twitch in her right eye at the thought of more collaborations. Genuinely, she wanted a break, but a project with the Saja Boys was too good for her image to pass up.
They were good. She was excellent. Anything they released together would be an undeniable hit.
And yet, Rumi didn’t feel excited. If anything… it was the opposite.
Since when had her stomach started churning at the thought of work?
She was twenty four, at the peak of her career, the highest paid singer of the moment. And yet, week after week, not even intense training sessions could keep her spirits up.
She was burning out…but not her voice, not her performance.
It was her.
Rumi briefly feigned a curious expression before lifting a hand to fix a loose strand that didn’t exist, her purple braid was perfectly in place.
“Of course. We can discuss the terms right now, if you’d like.”
The sentence was flawless. The beginning of another loop that would bring her more fame, more reach, more tours…more everything.
But was that really what she needed?
Why didn’t it bother her, not even a little, that Jinu was her ex and they were speaking so casually?
Did she still have the capacity to feel human emotions, or had they all been suppressed… buried beneath who she had become?
Jinu opened his mouth to speak, but he was abruptly interrupted by a sharp impact to his back, making him spin around to see who had bumped into him.
It was a girl.
One who looked completely out of place.
She wore a light blue hoodie, a slightly worn black backpack, skinny jeans, and black leather boots that made her look just a few centimeters taller… because she was fairly short.
Her hair was short and dark, her gaze unmistakably… foreign.
Rumi had never seen her before in her life.
But Jinu clearly had… and for the first time that night, his face showed genuine emotion.
Anger. Irritation.
“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, his tone dripping with annoyance.
The girl smiled nervously and raised her hands in surrender.
“What are you doing here?” she shot back, stepping slightly away.
Jinu moved forward, completely forgetting Rumi’s presence. As soon as he approached her, the girl lifted her hands to cover her face and let out a small, adorable squeal…accidentally knocking the drink from his hand and spilling champagne all over his face and tuxedo.
“Ugh- watch it,” Jinu muttered, lifting the glass, now barely containing any liquid. He stepped back, scanning the room for staff. Someone rushed over and handed him a small towel, which he took with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t need this tonight… definitely not,” he murmured as he walked away, clearly irritated.
He looked even more miserable than Rumi…and she felt a twinge of pity for him.
The entire room had turned toward them after the small commotion. Within seconds, security appeared and surrounded the girl.
“You again?” one of the guards said, confusion lacing his voice. Rumi noticed the girl wearing a shameless grin.
But as her eyes darted around the room, the smile faded, replaced by confusion, then fear.
The panic was there.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rumi saw the press rushing closer, eager to capture the next piece of drama. She could already imagine the headlines.
Something stirred in her chest at the girl’s lost expression.
Pity.
She bit her lip for just a second before stepping forward, slipping past one of the guards.
“Miss Ryu?” a female voice asked nearby.
Rumi lifted her chin and offered a flawless smile.
“She’s a fan, I recognize her from a recent concert,” she said smoothly, gesturing around them while pointedly avoiding the stunned stare of the girl beside her, who looked like a fish with its mouth hanging open. “Since she went through all the trouble of getting here, I can spare a few minutes before personally escorting her out, if that’s all right.”
She placed a hand over her chest.
No one objected.
Almost immediately, security dispersed to check on Jinu before returning to their posts. A few even thanked Rumi for helping with damage control.
No one could question her.
Still, Rumi swallowed hard when she caught Celine’s raised eyebrow.
She already knew, this wouldn’t be good press later. Saving the person who had just thrown champagne on Jinu after sneaking into a private event wasn’t exactly ideal.
But it had been entertaining.
And the girl didn’t look malicious at all.
If anything, she looked around Rumi’s age… maybe younger.
“Good evening. I hope security wasn’t too rough with you,” Rumi said, using the radiant smile she reserved for fans.
The girl shook her head quickly, scratching the back of her neck, visibly embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, they were actually pretty nice…comparatively!” she laughed, wide and genuine, before stretching her arms over her head as if she were holding in too much energy and needed to burn it off somehow.
“Really?” Rumi couldn’t help frowning slightly at that…at both the comment and how relaxed she seemed.
“When I gave a not-so-legal concert in my old school’s pool, it was total chaos!” the girl said casually, pulling out a mid-range Samsung phone with a teal case. She frowned at the screen, scrolling with deep focus.
She seemed to be looking for a recording.
Rumi barely had time to blink before the girl shoved the phone in front of her face, showing a video of people jumping into a pool in utter chaos before alarms went off and everyone scattered. The angle clearly came from the stage, not the audience.
Rumi stepped back, nearly dropping her drink. She opened her mouth to say something, but her mind went blank.
“A concert… what?”
“Yeah! Those guards never figured out who hit them!” the girl said proudly, clenching her fist before slipping the phone back into her pocket. “Oh! I’m Zoey,” she added with the same vibrant energy, extending her hand expectantly.
“U-Uh… Rumi,” she muttered awkwardly, taking the hand and letting it be shaken a couple of times.
“I know! Your voice is incredible and trust me, if I start talking about you, you’ll never get me to shut up,” Zoey said, shaking her head with a small laugh at her own intensity before stepping a little closer and releasing Rumi’s hand.
“So… you are a fan?” Rumi tried to regain control of the conversation. This mysterious girl was nothing like the people she usually dealt with.
“I mean, yeah- but I swear I’m normal about it,” Zoey shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets. “You’re a person, just like everyone else in this room. You deserve respect.”
Rumi opened her mouth. Closed it. It was her turn to look like a fish.
“That’s… considerate. Still, may I ask about what happened with-”
“Jinu? He’s an idiot! This time it wasn’t on purpose, but he totally deserved it!” Zoey huffed, stomping lightly. “He was touring in the U.S. and tricked his way into taking the debut spot I was supposed to get when I was in high school.” She lowered her voice, probably for discretion.
Rumi blinked again, stunned.
“He did that?” A flicker of intrigue (and irritation) settled in her stomach.
“Don’t worry. On the night of his concert, I managed to shut off the lights and climb onto the upper part of the stage. Then I sang a bit!” Zoey grinned proudly, while Rumi glanced around, increasingly alarmed by these revelations.
“It was like that movie with Emma Stone, where she plays Cruella and steals the show,” Zoey continued, oblivious to Rumi’s horrified expression.
“Wasn’t that… illegal?” Rumi asked, her hands clasping together as she nervously fiddled with her fingers.
“Well… yeah?” Zoey tilted her head, and that single gesture nearly made Rumi smile despite herself. “But neither of us could complain, because he fully intended to beat me up in an alley after all that trouble,” Zoey shrugged.
Rumi’s stomach twisted, for more than one reason.
As much as she knew better, Jinu had gone through a nasty phase years ago. It wasn’t hard to believe he’d be capable of something like that…she just hadn’t imagined it would be so direct, especially toward someone barely out of high school.
“And what happened?” Rumi asked quietly.
“I bit him and gave him a black eye,” Zoey said sweetly, clasping her hands together.
Rumi had no idea what to say to that.
Judging by the way her face felt, she probably looked slightly pained.
“What did you say you sang?” Rumi’s voice was barely a whisper as Zoey stifled a laugh and shook her head.
“I don’t think I said it…” she admitted. “I rap, and I do some composing too…soundtracks in software and stuff like that… uh, lyrics mostly.” She pointed at her chest with pride.
Rumi nodded, a little intrigued.
“Well, that’s actually pretty impressive.” Rumi sounded genuinely encouraged by the strange combination. She was used to seeing people specialized in a single thing, or entire bands, not someone so well-rounded. “Do you dance too?”
Zoey seemed to freeze for a second before a faint blush colored her cheeks. Rumi thought she looked kind of cute like that. “No, I apparently have two left feet…” she whispered, slightly embarrassed.
“Maybe you could learn if you had a good teacher.” Rumi thought out loud. After all, if she’d managed to rap, compose, and write lyrics, learning how to sing or dance didn’t seem impossible.
Rumi didn’t notice the amused look that appeared on Zoey’s face. It was priceless.
“Are you offering?” Zoey teased. “Wow, people flirt so subtly these days.” She covered her lips with one hand and shook her head, pretending to be shy. Rumi knew she was faking it…the mischievous spark in her eyes gave her away.
Rumi shook her head over and over, feeling the tips of her ears heat up.
“I’m not flirting with you.” Rumi huffed, turning her gaze away with some intensity. She barely cared that cameras might be catching her reactions and interactions with that strange rapper. Or if they even appeared on the front page afterwards
She should have worried about showing so much expression, about tarnishing her impeccable image… but she truly couldn’t bring herself to care.
“What a shame,” Zoey sighed before dropping the subject.
Rumi realized Zoey hadn’t even tried to sound serious. She didn’t seem interested in a collaboration or anything like that. It was a strange but welcome change.
“U-uhm… what did you say your name was?” Rumi asked again, her voice awkward, making Zoey look at her with amusement. “Your stage name, I mean… I haven’t seen you around.” Rumi stumbled over her explanation.
“I’m still Zoey on stage.” She shrugged and smiled. “I guess I’m a bit better known in the U.S., but for personal reasons I had to start my life over in Korea… and well, I’m just trying to find my place.” She looked down for a moment, fiddling with a loose thread on her hoodie.
“I’ll look you up when I get home…” slipped out of Rumi’s mouth before she could stop herself. She could swear Zoey blushed even more.
“Y-You don’t have to do that. You’ll probably be tired and just want to sleep.” Zoey began pacing lightly around the room, and Rumi followed. They could feel the eyes of security staff and a few curious onlookers, after all, Zoey stood out far too much.
“Y-You’re probably right.” Rumi watched as they slowly approached the food bar, narrowing her eyes at Zoey’s intentions, which reminded her of one of her main questions…one she still hadn’t voiced.
“Wow, none of this looks edible.” Zoey carefully picked up a piece of something that definitely had caviar on it, popped it into her mouth without hesitation, and started chewing. Rumi noticed her expression sour in disgust, which she found oddly amusing.
“Yeah, the food isn’t great…” Rumi added, handing her a napkin. Zoey grabbed it desperately, pressing it to her lips before swallowing with difficulty.
“The food’s bad, the party’s boring… does no one here have plans to go home and relax?” Zoey looked around, opening and closing her mouth as she tried to get rid of the awful taste left by the appetizer. She grabbed a glass of champagne, downed it in one go, and shut her eyes in absolute horror.
“You don’t like champagne?” Rumi tried and failed not to laugh at her almost childlike expression.
“I’m convinced anyone who says they like champagne is a damn liar.” Zoey growled as her eyes watered, clearly burning from the drink.
Rumi couldn’t agree more, but publicly, she was forbidden from saying so. Still, she used every ounce of her professional training not to burst out laughing.
She was supposed to be polite, and celebratory drinks were meant to be exquisite, a symbol of status…
“Well, yeah, maybe sneaking into this party wasn’t my best idea…” Zoey admitted, looking at Rumi with a pained expression. Rumi frowned slightly, confused, so Zoey shifted her weight before continuing. “They always show a little video of the artists who performed, and the event looks so radiant…” Zoey smiled sadly.
Rumi watched her with curiosity.
“But?”
“But I guess the event itself is boring. They’re just really good at masking it.” Zoey shrugged.
Rumi nodded almost imperceptibly. She could see it. She could feel it.
It was really a test for current artists…seeing who might slip up, cause a scandal, and start the new year with a black mark on their record.
One wrong glance, and the press could unleash a media nightmare.
“It’s a shame. I used to watch the video sometimes when I was little,” Rumi added quietly.
Zoey brightened and stepped closer.
“Really? Me too! The Sunlight Sisters were my favorites!” Zoey nodded enthusiastically. Rumi snorted at the name. Zoey would probably jump on Celine if she realized she was here… which would honestly be fun to see.
“I can see why.” Rumi drawled, her grimace barely resembling a smile.
Zoey smiled and turned away, grabbing a few different appetizers and setting aside another drink.
“Alright, I’ll grab something for the road and let you escort me out, Miss Ryu.” Zoey said it loudly on purpose, just enough for any gossipers to hear that nothing else was going on.
“Of course. I’m sorry the event was such a disappointment.” Rumi sighed calmly as she watched Zoey pick up something particularly large. She stepped closer immediately, logic alone said it was going to fall.
Her hands moved to find Zoey’s, trying to help her hold everything, when Zoey suddenly widened her eyes in surprise. A dripping piece of hanwoo fell straight onto Rumi’s neck, sliding down and staining her satin shirt, making her shudder at the unpleasant sensation.
Zoey flung the food away at lightning speed and went pale. She grabbed napkins in record time, and Rumi felt the appetizer lifted off her skin and the stain scrubbed with ferocity.
“Shit, I’m sorry… first Jinu and now you, Rumi… I shouldn’t have come today.” Zoey whispered angrily, growing impatient as the stain refused to disappear, fully aware of the curious eyes around them.
“It’s okay, it was an acci-”
“No! Let me fix it… uh- oh! I know!” Zoey grabbed Rumi’s wrist urgently. “Take me to the nearest bathroom. I swear I have something in my bag that could work for you.” She whispered, tugging gently at her sleeve.
Rumi barely blinked before nodding, her feet moving on instinct toward the nearest bathroom downstairs.
Far from cameras and the press.
Celine was going to kill her tomorrow… but that was tomorrow’s problem.
“Zoey, really, it’s fine…” Rumi tried again and again as Zoey pushed them into the bathroom and slipped her backpack off, rummaging inside with one hand.
“It’s not fine… it’s fine to spill on Jinu’s, he’s an idiot.” Zoey shook her head as she locked the door. “But you? I owe you my life. I was waiting for Mira to show up and save me, and when I’d already given up, you stepped in.” She explained, crouching to make sure no one else was there.
“It’s not okay to spill champagne on people in general.” Rumi frowned slightly, almost scolding her… though Mira’s name echoed in her mind. There was something there between them, probably.
Zoey snorted and nodded. Rumi sighed.
“But you get my point, right?”
“What are you planning to do?” Rumi asked.
Zoey kept digging through her bag until she pulled out a very large sweater with a particularly ugly design, Santa Claus wearing sunglasses, holding two soda cans.
“You can take off the stained shirt and put this on,” she suggested. Rumi’s eyes widened in horror.
“Zoey…” she dragged the word out in panic.
“I know it’s not very aesthetic, but it’s comfy and it doesn’t itch like the traditional ones. I swear it’ll keep you warm too!” Zoey insisted, her eyes shining with guilt.
“I’m not going back to the party dressed like that.” Rumi frowned, her voice sounding more like a sulky protest than a firm refusal. “The stain isn’t that bad…” She glanced at her shirt, yes, it looked bad, but it wouldn’t make her the laughingstock of Seoul. Still, she realized she had never voiced her refusal so openly before.
She felt free… being able to say what she thought without overthinking it.
“Oh… okay…” Zoey straightened and hugged her backpack. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should probably let your manager handle it, and… dragging you into a bathroom wasn’t a great idea. I don’t want you to think I’m weird for suggesting you change into this huge sweater.” She rambled, hands raised, ending with a nervous smile.
Rumi felt awful for causing that small panic spiral in Zoey, who had (without exaggeration) been the best part of her night.
“You don’t have to worry about that. You meant well. It’s okay.” Rumi stepped closer and tentatively rested a hand on her shoulder.
Zoey nodded, though her gaze remained shy. Rumi frowned slightly.
“What are you planning to do once you leave here?” she asked. Zoey opened her mouth, then paused.
“Go home, watch a movie on my couch, and probably fall asleep.” She tilted her head before looking at Rumi, her mood slowly returning. “It’s not very big, but I decorated it nicely… and I bought hot chocolate.” She nodded with a small smile.
Rumi stayed silent.
“And I put little Christmas hats on my turtles, you know?” Zoey added, eyes sparkling.
Rumi smiled without thinking.
“That sounds adorable.”
Zoey’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing as she looked down at her bag. Rumi, meanwhile, internally panicked and lowered her head.
“Y-You think so?” Zoey tried to sound playful, but the stutter and her swaying gave away her anxiety.
“Yeah…”
“Y-You could see the decorations yourself, if you want. And maybe you could wear the silly sweater more comfortably and leave this boring party.”
Rumi’s eyes opened wide.
Had Zoey just invited her to her house?
She froze for a few seconds as reason and impulse clashed violently in her mind. The consequences. The risks of following a stranger…
And yet, she seemed so harmless, so bright.
She knew Mira somehow… and Rumi trusted Mira, right?
With that flimsy and slightly stupid thought, she closed her mouth and clenched her teeth.
“Wow, yeah… I keep saying creepy things out of nowhere.” Zoey snapped her out of it. “Relax, maybe I’ll post it on my socials and you can see it yourself someday if you ever feel like-”
“Yes, I’ll go.”
“What?”
Now it was Zoey who stood completely stunned.