Audrey
Saturday morning:
Bon Hun Entertainment:
"What comes to your mind when you hear the word love?" RM asks me.
I am in a practice room with 4 Seasons. We're all sitting on the cold wooden floor to take a ten-minute break. They're all sweaty and breathless from an early rehearsal. Meanwhile, I've taken charge of providing drinks, snacks, and moral support.
I scowl at his question. "The prelude to despair and destruction," I answer.
His yellow eyes stare into my lime green ones intently. He sighs before saying to me, "Audrey, you can't be a celebrity just to satisfy yourself." I've told him that I'm a Performing Arts major, and that I plan to become a singer and song writer, just like him.
When Rm notices that I remain silent, he continues speaking wisely. "If you believe you're a celebrity only because of your talent, without looking beyond yourself, then you're only pretending. If you wish to succeed as a professional, you must always remember to love your audience, and want to be loved by the audience."
To love and to want to be loved. Whenever in the presence of customers, you must keep smiling no matter what happens. Our business depends on people thinking they're glad they came here and that they want to return. You want to have the customers love our restaurant.
I shake my head, as if to push away the unpleasant memory.
I stare back at RM. "Even if you love someone,there's no guarantee that person will love you back. How is it possible to love a large group of people you don't even know?" I ask him.
The 16-year-old idol meets my attentive gaze. "If you want to become a celebrity, you'll have to like being seen and loved by others."
"You're right," I agree, nodding. "I used to feel that way," I confess, lowering my voice and dropping my eyes to my red converse shoes. "But my desire to love someone has left me. And my wish to be loved is already.. Anyway, there's nothing more useless in this world than loving someone else."
I go on, "And wanting to be loved.. the more you want it, the more miserable you'll become." A blanket of silence falls over us for a short moment. My fingers play with my gray crucifix pendant dangling from a thin silver chain around my pale neck.
Still fiddling with the cross, I admit quietly, "Ever since I was a kid, this magical stone has taken away my grief and sadness when I can't do so alone. It's always been my secret treasure. Once I learn to laugh normal again, I'll revert to what I used to look like."
"What.. do you mean?" RM asks me, his neat brown eyebrows knitting together.
I hold up a long yellow strand of my hair. "I'm not a natural blonde," I confess. "And it didn't use to be this long." I run my fingers along a golden lock. "I'm a brunette, and I know you know, these?" I point at my lime green eyes. "Are just contact lenses. My true eye color is hazel brown."
RM squints his topaz eyes at my face, as if trying to picture my original appearance. "It's.. sort of hard to imagine.." he trails off, stretching his long, black-clad legs before him, then he looks at me, his full pink lips forming a boyish smile. "..But whatever your hair or eye color is, I have no doubt you'll always be pretty."
Don't you dare blush, Audrey Ophelia Lee Henson. I am not a blusher. But I can feel a flush creep up my neck, and I look away to hide my pink cheeks.
I stand up and clap my hands loudly, declaring, "Okay everyone. Break's over. Kindly return to your positions. I want to see you dance as if it's the real deal. Perform like you want to burn the stage. Own it. Set it on fire! Not literally, because that's arson," I say in Korean, making the four boys laugh.
