#in lieu of the uk antics tour...

[postpunkblunt]

[mon-blanchetts]

He calls in the middle of the night asking if he can see her again. It’s not something she wants to hear—not after the news she just received [Kit/Sunny, rated M for mentions of a past sexual encounter].

AN: Yes, you’re looking at the graphic right, and yes, you’re reading the summary and the pairing right. I’m not on crack, but this story sure is. Still, please give it a chance? I promise you don’t need to know much about either person to understand the story (assuming I wrote this right). I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head, despite how far-fetched it was.

Sunny stared absentmindedly at the wine glass that sat on top of the metal coffee table, its alcoholic contents nearly finished. She’d already gone through half the bottle itself while lounging as comfortably as she could on one of the stools in the kitchenette, until she finally decided to take up her glass and continue her sulking in the living room.

Without warning Sogeum appeared on the coffee table, his white tail waving back and forth in a languid manner as he studied her wine glass with those intelligent, oversized eyes of his. She carefully reached for her drink, wishing that she had her cat’s favourite toy handy, but his dangling feather was somewhere in her bedroom. Sunny considered making the short journey down the corridor, but her doctor’s warning echoed in her mind again, as stern and sympathetic as she remembered it. If you keep at this pace, they’ll give out sooner than you think. What was she going to do, when that happened? What did she have outside the Korean entertainment industry? She wouldn’t be able to dance anymore; most variety programs, at least the ones that might still want her, were fairly active trials, too. Sunny had thought about going back to America, at one point, in the vain hope of starting over again. But other than a proficient grasp of the English language, what else did she have that made her appealing to an everyday employer?    

Her thoughts were disrupted when her phone buzzed against the sofa cushion. Sunny looked away from Sogeum’s antics to glance at her phone; her eyes widened with surprise when she read the name that flashed on the screen. Why was he texting her at this time of night?

Sunny picked up her phone to swipe the screen open. If anything, she was expecting a message with little to no context, followed by an apology that he’d texted the wrong person. They didn’t really keep in contact, after all.

Do you mind if I call u right now?

His text, assuming it was directed to her, was simple and to-the-point. She liked that, but she was still startled by this unusual request, though there wasn’t any really complicated about it.

Except that it kind of is.

She quickly typed a response. Are you texting the right person?

Another text came in. Sunny?

Huh. So he wasn’t texting the wrong person after all. How interesting, she thought, even while the alcohol was finally beginning to kick in.

It must’ve been because she was a little more pilfered on wine than usual, but when she texted him back telling him that he could, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was getting herself into. She had decided earlier in the evening that she wanted to be alone tonight. Friends and family had called or left her texts enquiring about her consultation with the doctor, as well as the girls, but she hadn’t answered any of them. The diagnosis wasn’t even that surprising, considering the fact that she’d been having trouble with her knees all of her life, but she still couldn’t really face it.

Kit wasn’t part of her immediate circle of friends and peers, though. He wasn’t even in her more distant basket of acquaintances, come to think about it, but maybe that was what made the idea of talking to more appealing than talking to someone of closer relations.  

Her phone came to life a few seconds later, the ringtone permeating the quiet of the living room, making her cat jump. Sogeum looked up at her with annoyance before he leapt off the coffee table, but she just scrunched her face at him before hitting the ‘accept’ button on the screen.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Kit’s voice, laced with concern, was exactly as she remembered it: low and deep, but still as smooth as velvet. His accent, too, was just as she recalled, though there was something a bit rough in the way he pronounced his consonants. She kind of wanted to know what he thought of her voice; Sunny knew that she didn’t have the same appeal as the other girls did, but apparently that hadn’t stopped him from wanting her that night. You’ve never actually seen the eight other women I work with, she had warned, while his lips found their way to the space between her breasts. The events of that night were a secret that she kept close to her, if only because she knew she was breaking one of the biggest clauses in her contract. Maybe that was what made her so appealing to him, even now, she thought—the fact that he had to be her little secret, for the sake of her career, and maybe for the sake of his, too.

“Hello,” she greeted, placing the phone back on the sofa cushion before she leaned back against the sofa. “No, you didn’t wake me up. What time is it in the UK anyway?”

“I’m in LA, actually,” he corrected. There was a shuffling sound in the background, like paper being crumpled. “I’m doing a press tour in America right now.”

She was about to ask whether it was for Thrones or a film he was starring in, but she thought about how clueless she’d look. “What time is it there?”

“Ten-thirty in the morning.”

“Oh, I see. How are you?”

“Fine, I suppose.” There was the briefest of pauses, as if maybe she was supposed to fill in some kind of blank. Not while this little chicklet is about three sheets to the wind, she thought.

“Are you well, love?”

She sighed quietly to herself. It was the very question she had hoped to avoid when she decided to lock herself away from the world that evening, unsure whether she knew how to answer it. But she’d just spent most of the night downing nearly half a bottle of red wine, hoping that her choice of alcoholic beverage made her look less desperate than she was.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, once again reaching for the wine glass that sat on top of the coffee table. A few magazines and a bag of chips were scattered across the square surface; while she sipped her wine she thought about cleaning up the table afterwards, hoping to bring some order where there wasn’t. “Why did you call me?” She blurted suddenly, when the absurdity of the situation caught up with her again. Here she was, at three-thirty in the morning, talking to the man she had a one night stand with in London nearly four months ago. Maybe it wouldn’t have been that weird if those were the only facts, until she remembered that Kit was a notable actor on a show viewed by millions. She wasn’t even a stranger to the limelight herself, but this current predicament of hers was surreal enough.

He didn’t respond immediately. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Sunny had a feeling that had she been sober, his comment would’ve made her blush. As it stood, she only felt angry. Who was he to say things like that, when they were where they were?

“Are you drunk?” She asked.

“It isn’t noon yet over here, love. Are you?”

“This wine tastes awful,” she complained, in lieu of actually saying yes, but that didn’t stop her from taking another generous drink from her glass. She recalled the bottle they had shared in London, something vintage and very likely more expensive than what she currently had on hand. Strange that she remembered a tidbit like that. She would probably forget that in time, but she doubted that she would forget his large hands roaming her body, or the scratch of his beard against her nipples that had made her shudder in delight as she gripped the edges of his wide shoulders. Sunny pressed her thighs together to staunch the feelings that were beginning to grow; she was not in the mood for this, not after the news she’d just gotten. It was finally beginning to dawn her that maybe this call was not a very good idea.

“If you come back to Europe, we’ll get you the best wine on the continent,” he promised, a little out of the blue.

“I really liked the wine we had that night, do you remember?” She rolled her eyes at herself in exasperation. Why did she have to go and say that aloud?

“I do remember.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard something like longing in his voice.

“I actually called you because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night. Not lately, at least. Why are you drinking at this time of night?”

Everything Kit said was a lot to take in, for some reason. “So, what…you just kind of forgot about that night for a little while and then it just kind of came back to you recently?” If she sounded vindictive, she didn’t mean to. Her sarcasm never did come out right after so many drinks.

“No, I never really forgot about it,” he insisted, before there was an audible clicking noise on the other end. “Can I see you again?”

Okay, this call was a bad idea, after all.

“Mate, I don’t know if you remember this or not, but we live halfway across the world from each other. And what do you want to see me for, anyway?” She found it funny, using the same slang that he did, even when she would never have used it otherwise. A good thing Kit wasn’t Korean—she would never have gotten away with this conversation if he had been, what with her blatant disregard of his age and lack of honorifics, not to mention her overall snarky tone. The Seohyuns of her life would’ve scolded her for the disrespectable way she was talking to someone older than her, but those same people would’ve very likely collapsed if they ever learned about what she had done with said older gentleman.  

And yet, the strange thing was this: his request wasn’t as surprising as she would’ve thought. It didn’t mean she was pleased with it.

“Hello?” She said, picking up her phone from the cushion to see if maybe the call had disconnected accidentally. She wouldn’t have minded, though.

“I’m here,” he assured. Sunny sighed again.

There was an edge to his voice when he spoke again. “Would you find it strange if I said that I missed you?”

“Uh, very,” she answered, but she couldn’t ignore the way her heartbeat was speeding up at a frantic rate. “You don’t know me enough to miss me.”

“No, but I can still recall the feel of your skin well enough to know that I miss it,” he countered, perhaps with a little too much vehemence in it. Clearly he wasn’t happy with her comment. “I bloody miss you, all right?” He growled, his frustration apparent. It was if he was just accepting this fact at the same moment, too.

“I can’t do this.” It came out in a breathless rush, her mind numb with alcohol and resignation. The wine glass was now empty, and she could only wish that she felt the same way, but the doctor’s words, combined with Kit’s sudden confessions, had finally set her over the edge. “I can’t do this. I won’t see you, even if I could.”

There was a long silence on the other end until Kit finally spoke again. “Why not?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Sunny,” he pleaded, but she could sense that her words had stung. “I get it, all right? I’m as surprised as you are about how this all ended up, but I didn’t know how else to say what I just did. I’m not asking you to agree with me, either, all right? But could you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

It wasn’t even that big of a deal, she wanted to say, but something held her back. Maybe he might judge her for overboard about such a minor issue—and what if he ended up seeing her as less than he thought she once was, when they first encountered one another? It’s just your knees, mate, not your heart or a limb, she imagined him saying, because she didn’t really know him enough to gouge what his reaction would be. Would he really be that callous, though, considering the way he’d behaved with her?

“Love?”

He had called her that endlessly while he pushed himself deeper inside her, but the reminder only emphasized how different things were now than it was when she first met him. They worked in the same industry, but in such different cultural milieus, that it was like night and day. Kit wouldn’t understand. The injury itself, sure, but would he get the implications it had for her place in the group?

I work closely with eight other women, you know. Bet you’d like any of them more than me—they’re all a heck of a lot prettier, and they don’t walk like grandma. She’d been fairly plastered when she had said that, had even forgotten about Jessica’s absence to boot, but she’d also confessed her knee condition to him, as well. Sunny thought about whether he remembered that part of the night.

“Sunny,” he tried again, his voice raspy with worry. “Say something, please. What’s wrong, love?”

“Would you stop calling me that?” She snapped, jumping to her feet. That was the worst idea, yet; her knees practically roared in defiance, while pain shot through the entire length of both her legs. There was no covering up the loud hiss she let out, nor the shakiness that was more than audible as she inhaled deeply, bracing herself against the pain.

Kit shouted her name desperately. His voice through the phone’s speaker reverberated against the walls of the apartment; somewhere her cat whined loudly in retaliation, along with Ginger’s high-pitched barking. Sunny groaned loudly in annoyance as she carefully returned to the sofa, but that only pushed his buttons some more.

“What’s going on? Are you all right? Sunny? Sunny?”

That’s not even my real name, she thought. Kit wasn’t his real one, either. That was another thing that they had in common, she thought, a little dazed. “My knees,” she complained softly, giving in at last. “They. Hurt. I went for a consultation with my doctor, and he told me that as long as I work them as hard as I do, the inflammation’s just going to get worse, until there’s nothing left but to get a corrective or tear something permanently. Either way, I won’t be able to dance anymore.” So many years of dancing on stage in heels, going through a series of choreographed steps that were practically engraved into her at this point, and now it was beginning to take its toll on her. The anti-inflammatory medication would only last her so long, but then what?

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, Kit,” she confessed, doing her best to keep the tears from coming. He couldn’t see her, but she knew how obvious she sounded when she spoke to someone after crying. Whatever they’d done in his bed that night wasn’t enough to convince her that he was ready to see her in such a vulnerable light. Sunny wanted to be remembered as that woman he’d seen that evening, the one he was compelled to bring back to his townhouse. Sunny hated to admit it, but she’d swelled with pride when she realized how much Kit had wanted her that night—a strange accomplishment that she didn’t think none of the other girls had yet to achieve. He’d been just as drunk as she was, of course, but whatever spark they felt that night had stayed with him long enough the morning after that he had offered her his number. What conversations they had had after that had been rare and sparse, but he was such a novel character in the story of her life that she didn’t mind keeping him in her list of contacts.

And now it was all messed up.

“I’m sorry, lo–Sunny,” he stumbled, but he sounded genuine enough. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, this time with more tenderness in it.

“It’s okay,” she said, closing her eyes tightly as she tried to ignore the ache in her legs. “It’s going to get bad soon. I’ve just been told that they’ve set a date for a comeback.”

“A comeback?”

“Oh, right, you wouldn’t know about that.” She flinched when the words processed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” she said earnestly.

“That’s all right. Will you tell me more about your schedule?”

Sunny opened her mouth to suggest otherwise, but the fumble of someone’s keys had her scrambling on the sofa, her phone clutched tightly in one hand. Swearing beneath her breath, she brought the device close to her mouth, her mind too busy with panic to remember where the ‘end speaker’ button was on the screen.

“Someone’s coming—I have to go, okay? I’m sorry.” It all came out no louder than a whisper; she didn’t wait for Kit to respond before she hung up, and he was still trying to say something even when she cut the call. It made her feel a little guilty, but she’d deal with that later. Heart beating frantically again her chest, Sunny turned around in her seat to see which one had just come back.

It turned out that Fany was too exhausted to notice if anything was actually amiss when she had entered the living room. Sunny had smiled sympathetically at her as she made her way towards her bedroom, grateful that another strenuous day at the broadcast center was over. “Here’s to our comeback,” she had cheered lamely in English. Ginger yapped at his mistress’s heels as she disappeared into her room.

“To our comeback,” Sunny murmured, also in English. Silence hovered in the apartment while she stared out at the cityscape from the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the entire wall across from her, while her conversation with a certain British actor still rang loudly in her head. As soon as she thought it was safe enough, Sunny gingerly pulled out her phone from beneath one of the plush cushions that rested on the sofa, knowing that she looked as guilty as a child stealing candy at a store.

When she brought the screen to life, Sunny saw the number of text notifications that had accumulated in the span of a few minutes, all of them from the alias she used for Kit. It was even in Hangeul to make it less conspicuous, though she supposed that it wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway, if someone were to get their hands on her phone; the culprit would’ve caught on quickly enough, despite all the red herrings she planted.

He’d left her a series of short messages, all of them pleading with her to call or text back. I’m ok, she typed in, before tapping ‘send.’ Thx for listening, when u shouldn’t have had to. Can’t call u rite now. I’m not alone anymore.

Another text came seconds after. Will you let me see you again?

Sunny read the message over and over. Contrary to her wants, her mind drifted back to the events that had transpired that night nearly four months ago, triggering something that she was no longer so sure about.

I don’t know.