Lovebirds

fifteen

"Since I bailed you out, is there a particular reason why you refused the contract?" 

Rayan jolted in surprise at her question, biting his bottom lip in uncertainty. They were walking to his dressing room in silence until her question infiltrated his defenses, and slowly they came crumbling down, his shoulders sagging in defeat. It was uncharacteristic of Rayan to be so silent and tense, to hide in his emotions instead of using his humor to counteract the dark clouds that threatened his sunshine, an aura of light eclipsing him. 

"It's... nothing," he sighed, pocketing his hands into his hoodie and speeding up his pace. 

Not so fast. 

Naira caught up. "Really? You're going to pull that card on me?"

He stopped walking, causing her to stumble. "Thanks for bailing me out, but this really isn't your business," he said coldly before he continued towards his dressing room, kicking at pebbles as he tried to escape from her. 

"That's rich coming from you," she retorted. "Aren't you the one who comes into my office unannounced to dig through my papers and find some way to weasel your way into my business?"

"That's different."

"No, it's really not."

"Naira-"

She ran in front of him, outstretching her arms to keep him from passing her as a fierce glare settled on her features. She wouldn't take his resistance, nor would she give him an easy pass. As manager, Naira was well within her rights to take the offer on his behalf because it enhanced his career, and would give Red Knights a larger global presence, reaching fans past the horizon, and delving into a new dawn for their music group.

But she didn't because she saw the fear in his eyes, saw the currents rock the storminess of his gaze, saw the vulnerability reflect like looking through a mirror. Something about the contract scared him. 

His gaze softened as they met hers. There was a hint of ambivalence, yet the fight dissipated from his body as if he accepted his defeat. Sighing deeply, he stepped around Naira, gesturing for her to follow him. 

Curious, she listened, and the two entered his dressing room, the door left open as Rayan went to the coffee machine to pour himself a drink.

Not knowing what else to do, she took a seat on one of his sofas, gaze wandering around the room in curious awe. The curtains were a simple gray, a dresser in the right corner and a caffeine stand beside it. The floor was sleek, polished wood, sparkling in the luminous stands that's glowed with an aura of a galaxy, bright as stars.

Rayan came back with two mugs of coffee, handing one to her before he took a seat across from her.

There was a stillness in the air, not tense nor was it uncomfortable, yet she could feel the lingering qualms that resonates from him like waves, his eyes as indecisive as the sea, rocking between his choices before settling in her once more, calm and chaotic all at once.

"Sorry I put you through that," he apologized in a hushed tone. "I'm used to fighting to avoid contracts like those. You took me by surprise by taking my side."

She sipped her coffee. "I would never force you to do something you don't want."

He gave her a weary smile. "I know, and God, it's been so long since I've had that."

She raised a brow in question.

"This industry," he said, gesturing to his room, "it does things to people, to naïve artists, to aspiring bands. You go from having your dreams fulfilled to losing your identity all at once." His voice trailed off like a wavering echo, faint and lost among a vast distance. "You know the craziest thing? You don't even realize it."