Rewrite the Rules

Back Stage: Part 28

Following Hoon felt like stepping into a different world. The backstage area was a hive of controlled chaos, a pulsing organism fueled by a team of dedicated professionals.

He moved with practiced ease, his every step purposeful, but I couldn't help but be momentarily distracted by his appearance.

He could have easily passed for a K-pop idol himself – perfectly coiffed hair, flawless skin, and a sharp jawline that could cut diamonds. Late thirties, I estimated, with an air of quiet intensity that made my heart skip a beat.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Well, consider yourself backstage royalty tonight, Ms. Rowan."

We continued our walk, navigating a maze of corridors before arriving at a spacious room. Inside, a scene of utter relaxation unfolded – plush sofas, gleaming mirrors, and a battalion of makeup artists wielding their tools like seasoned warriors.

"Have a seat," Hoon gestured towards a plush velvet sofa. "The boys will be here shortly, as soon as they wrap up the encore." He indicated a large TV mounted on the wall, currently projecting the electrifying scene of BTS performing their final song.

My stomach lurched. Had I left my seat too early? Maybe I should have savored the last minutes of the concert from the front row. Oh well, no point in dwelling on it now.

Just then, a flurry of activity filled the doorway. Several women entered, one of them immediately rushing towards me with a flurry of apologies.

"Oh, Miss Emma, I am so terribly sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern. "I was supposed to be here when you arrived. I'm Eunji, Mr. Kim's assistant. He thought you might like to have your hair and makeup touched up?"

I couldn't help but laugh, a surprised sound that bubbled up from my chest. "He did?"

"Indeed," she chirped, her smile radiating warmth. "Why don't you come and have a seat in the chair?"

Eunji, a vision of youthful beauty herself with long, flowing black hair and a contagious smile, ushered me into the stylist's chair.

My fingers grazed the cool cotton of the black top, momentarily hesitant. With a deep breath, I lifted it, revealing the shimmering champagne-colored wonder hidden beneath. Eunji's eyes widened, a delighted gasp escaping her lips.

"Ooh la la!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Much better! This is what we've been waiting for." Wasting no time, she ushered me towards one of the sleek black chairs, the kind you only saw in celebrity hairstyling studios.

With the practiced ease of a seasoned artist, Eunji wielded the flat iron, its smooth surface whispering against my hair as it transformed into a cascade of voluminous curls. It was a style I'd only ever seen in magazines, something impossibly glamorous and utterly unlike anything I could ever manage on my own.

As she worked her magic, I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her skill. Her fingers danced across my face, blending and highlighting with the precision of a sculptor. A touch of blush in just the right places, a sweep of eyeshadow that mirrored the shimmering hue of my top – it was a subtle transformation, but one that made me feel undeniably... different.

"You're an artist, Eunji," I breathed, captivated by the way she accentuated my features without masking them.

"Just a small-town Korean girl with a passion for making people feel beautiful," she winked, her smile as warm and inviting as the plush velvet chair beneath me.

Suddenly, the door flew open, a wave of excited chatter and laughter flooding the room. It was the members of BTS, their faces flushed from exertion, sweat clinging to their foreheads, but smiles lighting up their features.