"Even when a star dies, it gives birth to another one. It's mere existence is life and growth. One day I wish to be as infinite as the stars. To exist forever, if at least in their hearts."
When you left, you were not looking for a savior.
When he...
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Swallowing hard, you meet the building with a steady gaze, taking a calming breath before heading forward, and entering it. The revolving door swinging shut behind you, you come to a stop as soon as you enter eyes wide in astonishment.
Everything is pure white, or at least, shades of it. The walls are stone; cold, plastered paint slathered in every nook and cranny. The floors are made of smooth white ceramic tiles that have a thin glossy sheen to them, like marble in museums. The windows of the building are one-way, much like mirrors.
The light from outside mixing with the light on the inside walls creates a bright contrast that calms the nerves.
So many people are there. Tour guides leading small parties down the halls. Managers hurrying to and fro. Receptionists at the front desk taking multiple calls. People waiting in the waiting room near the entrance.
As you take it in, as you ponder at it, you can feel your own heart calm itself. Your heartbeat slows, and your breath evens out, the knot in your throat unwinding.
You find yourself at ease, despite the busy attitude of the place.
As though you belong here.
However, the stupor the studio has you in is quickly broken by a group of people who enter behind you.
They shove past you and you stumble a bit forward, caught off guard. They quickly murmur an apology before moving along. Shaking it off you take a deep breath, as you set your sights on the receptionist's desk.
You best get this over with.
At the thought of meeting Kim Namjoon, RM of BTS for the first time, you can feel the knot rewinding and wish you could just lose yourself in the beauty of the place once more. You know that's not possible though, you have to stay focused, you have to be aware of yourself.
Reaching the desk, you wait for the receptionist to notice you.
She holds a phone up to her ear, talking animately while she types something frantically on the office computer. You wonder if you should leave and come back a bit later, but her eyes glance towards you and she holds up a finger for you to wait.
You swallow hard, and nod, trying hard not to stare as you wait obediently.
She's quite pretty, her long dark hair tied up into a bun, few stranglers from a hectic day trailing down her ivory neck. She has a small face, large brown eyes accompanying small plump lips. Though she has done her makeup quite dutifully, it's obvious that she doesn't need it. She has the looks of an elegant porcelain swan, almost as though one touch would break her.
Sighing as she sets down the phone, she spins to you and smiles. It doesn't seem that sincere considering it doesn't reach her eyes, and you can tell she'd much rather return to her phone call. You'd hate to keep her from it so you hope you can make this quick.
