Hobi's Demands • JHS

Twenty Nine

The host showed you, Hobi, and his two security guards to a private table in the back of a restaurant up against a wall. The closest table to yours was two table lengths away, secluding you in a corner. Tall Japanese painted ferns gave the space a lush but private feel to your dining area.

Upon arrival you'd realized that with a hundred raises your bank account couldn't afford more than a few items on the menu. You suddenly felt under-dressed in your navy blue cocktail dress and simple pearl necklace your grandmother had given you.

No one had turned a single interested eye toward Hobi as you'd made your way past people in designer clothing, with diamonds and precious stones set in jewelry that they wore casually. If they were judging your label less ensemble you couldn't tell, no one seemed to care about the four of you at all.

Hobi pulled out your chair and nodded to the security guards who followed the hostess back through the dining room. His hands were warm on your shoulders, a gentle squeeze when you sat before he found his own chair. It felt romantic but you pushed that thought away, those were avenues you couldn't go down anymore.

"You don't like this restaurant? We can go somewhere else." He eyed you seriously as if he could sense the feelings rolling off of you.

"I wished you'd told me it was this fancy, your version of nice and mine don't match." You were blushing but attempted to say it with a laugh to not ruin the mood. Every single person in this room had Hobi money, not just rich money.

"You look stunning, and the thing about people here, is they all know how to mind their own business. Focus on me babe, I want your attention." Hobi's tone was deeper at his request, a demand that had you turning toward him and setting aside your insecurities.

"How was your day?" You smiled reaching out to brush your fingertips across the back of his hand.

You'd rehearsed in the shower, while doing your make up, even turning in front of the mirror as you modeled outfits. What you would say to him, what you wouldn't say to him, how you'd respond to anything and everything he could possibly say to you.

You would be pleasant, warm, sexy. You'd be flirtatious and interested in his every word. You'd answer any question even if you didn't want to answer. Above everything else you would be submissive to his every whim. If he said crawl under the table and give him a blow job, you'd just pray to not get caught.

"I think this new choreographer has it out for me."

Hobi hadn't opened the menu so you didn't either, you leaned forward, you'd planned on pretending to be interested in everything he said, but you didn't have to pretend just yet. Hearing about his work was fascinating and you felt lucky he was giving you an inside look into his day. You'd honestly expected a canned response 'fine, how was yours?', 'it was good, how's Nabi?' not the truth.

"Why do you think that?"

"They always act like they have to impress me, as if I'm competition for them. As if I've not taken direction from choreographers for eight years. But this one, he's trying to break me, throw things at me that he thinks will trip me up and I don't know why." Hobi frowned, like he was back in the studio with the guy.

"I think it's pretty understandable that they'd think you're the one to impress." You grinned and he smiled when he met your eye, you loved his smile.

"Jimin dances every bit as well as I do." Hobi shrugged. "Kookie is only a touch behind us, Tae is getting better every single day. It's not a competition. I want everyone to dance perfectly."

"You skipped three names." You laughed softly and he rolled his eyes.

"They can do any of the dances, I never doubt they'll learn whatever they have to, but they don't love dancing like the rest of us, and it's always going to show. The people who bias them don't do it for their dancing." You almost lost yourself just listening to him talk, this Hobi, this Hoseok who was just so endearing, had you in a trance.