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The slow and jazzy tune coming from the live band didn't even manage to quell the anger and agitation slowly boiling over in Hongjoong, it only made him more irritated because how much longer does he need to wait for the other party?
He thought that his client had already reached this place before him and might have been waiting for his presence longer and unbeknownst to him. But the thought is short-lived as he sees the guests going straight to the other tables beside him. Until the only single party in this parlor is him.
Only himself, a single glass of merlot on his table, and a lonely skinny vase for a single rose right in the middle of his table.
It's unusual to make Hongjoong waits for the other party to come, last year he had filled almost the entirety of his calendar with work. To say he's wanted only undermines how many people lining up for his exceptional skills, not to mention his secretary already noted the number of people waiting in line for his job.
Hongjoong is no stranger to meetings held in a dimly lit bar painted in maroon, from the sketchy ones in his first year of work to the ones with well-decorated bars with a chandelier hanging in the middle of it, he already experienced it all. But this one particular place is new to him.
He was positive he never saw this one bar being constructed during the times he went to work, or went off from work. He was even sure he never heard the construction ever happens in the first place by his overly talkative colleagues—and he knew this big city like the palm of his hand.
Enough with his question, he began to grade the establishment in its entirety.
The entertainment in this place was enough, and the live band was good. End of the line.
The ambiance was great, hence why it was filled with enough people filling up the place, but it was nothing new to him.
The drink was amicable, and he was not a fan of alcohol.
The service is already passed in hongjoong's book, and he's a man of a great standard.
He has been looking over his watch too many times to count, and yet there's still no sign of his client. Despite the fact that it was the client's request to meet over a drink or two. He accepted the offer.
That is why he is now alone with a glass of wine in his palm, swirling it repeatedly. Staring at the liquid inside it also became boring to him.
When he heard the sound of the curtain being pulled open from the stage, he peeks behind the clear glass in his hand only to see it uncover someone standing on the stage with a mic in front of them.
He sets his glass back and examines the individual in its entirety.
The view hooks him, body and soul—and Hongjoong was only a fish lured to the bait.
He enclosed his fist in front of him and hooks his chin over his two thumbs, scrutinizing the stage and the people on it.
He has enough knowledge about music and its instrument to know the pianist and the guitarist play well without any signs of dwindling. The rhythm provided by the drummer was enough to be a guide for the playing instruments. The people were good-looking as well, but that was not the case for the singer that had just been brought to the stage.
With an inhale, the singer begins to sing.
Not enough Hongjoong is captive to the sight in front of him—that the strapless dress the singer is supporting is merely not enough, the singer decided to pull him deeper by opening his mouth. The crowded bar filled with chattering and slight chuckles begins to thin out their voices and
slowly turned into complete silence to give the singer their whole attention.
The term beautiful doesn't even fit them. It was actually mocking if Hongjoong only say their voice was beautiful. It's hypnotizing, it's angelic, it's everything Hongjoong ever wants to lull him to sleep.
Their voice was smooth timbre and honey-like, sweet and dangerous all at the same time.
When the notes go higher, their voice follows through perfectly. It goes lighter and more delicate. When the tune gets heavier and lower, they still show their talents by going deeper and raspier. The versatility the said person displays awed Hongjoong to no end.
They make singing look so easy. Not even showing any sign of stopping there, they moved their body to the tune of the song that they were playing and singing right now.
When the song was happy, they lightly hop on their tiptoes and show a slightly upturned curl on their lips throughout the time the song plays.
When it sounds more melancholic, they stand rooted in their place offering a languished gaze to the audience, holding the mic tighter in their hold as if to vent their longing for it. They sing as if they were singing to their long-lost lover, full of desperation and longing that Hongjoong began to feel jealous.
Hongjoong doesn’t care about his client at this point. All his undivided attention was set on the bewitching person on the stage. He doesn't want them to stop singing—hell, he would gladly pay the mysterious person to sing in a private booth to him.
But can the singer go further?
The next song changed from a melancholic sound to another style, deeper and raunchier. The song filled with desire and amplified the temperature in the bar. Unconsciously, Hongjoong tugged his crew neck a little bit.
The sensual tone and the overly ambiguous lyrics pull Hongjoong into a trance, he was suspended in a blissful daze to the singer's mellow voice. How easily they moved their hands to trace along their body, the fluidity of their moves on stage, and to top it all off, the hazy and half-lidded gaze they flung in Hongjoong's direction made him shift in his seat multiple times.
Hongjoong knows he is attractive and has a handsome amount of people turning heads toward him regardless of his identity. He had those types of people in numerous ways, as long as the feeling’s mutual. And he is hard to please.
But how come the view of a local bar singer tucking strands of hair behind their ear managed to gag Hongjoong? He puts his body forward lest the table allows him to.
Aware of one more pair of eyes to entertain, the singer gleefully smirked and put one of their feet to the front of the other cheekily. Hongjoong's breath was caught in his throat discovering the dress had slits that go up to the upper thighs.
The gesture revealed that the singer had long legs with no trace of leggings on them, which only showcased the toned leg all more deliciously to hongjoong's eyes. On the end of their leg was a high-heeled pump with an ankle strap on its heel. It was Louboutins' to be exact.
Hongjoong gulped after raking all the views he could get and stared back again at the singer. They were still smirking in his direction.
That singer didn't pull their leg back, with Hongjoong's full attention in their hands, they began to trace them starting from his knee upward, their evening gloves slightly catching on the slits. They tugged it briefly to give him a little bit of a show to Hongjoong's pleasant surprise. What bewildered him is that they can still skilfully sing their heart out despite the many mischievous gestures they gave to Hongjoong (those gestures seemed like a private show meant for Hongjoong.)
All of this only makes Hongjoong want them even more, to know they’re a remarkable singer that won’t be swayed by others.
And Hongjoong, has too many ideas on how to utilize their skills to his liking in future encounters and possibilities if he’s allowed to.
The singer didn't stop there, they pulled the mic free from its stand and stridden off the stage through the short flight of stairs, all the while their vocal cords never stopped singing. They walk through each table and circle some of them, giving the audience a little show and winks thrown effortlessly.
At one point they paused at one table and bowed to kiss the single budding stem of a rose. Just like magic, it blooms to the fullest beauty and on cue, the other roses on other tables begin to follow through. Hongjoong's rose was no exception to the magic.
The singer smiled brightly to the other patrons, with their slightly wavy hair framing their face, they look even more magnificent and elegant on this night.
Not long after it was hongjoong's turn—table, to be exact—to be wandered by the lovely singer in close proximity.
Hongjoong's heart was thumping loudly with excitement when he saw the singer's gaze fixated on him, he hid his excitement behind the enclosed palm in front of his face. When they reached his table, the singer stared at him for a brief moment before turning his back and leaning backward.
They were leaning on the table with their palm behind his back, propping their hands on the table. Even their back and shoulders were attractive to Hongjoong's eyes. The ruffles on the top of their dress, the top of their evening gloves, and the sides of their waist urged him to touch them with his fingers, luckily he managed to stamp those cravings before it wins.
At one point in the song, they throw his head back and peered over their shoulder to look at Hongjoong right in his eyes. Hongjoong didn't shy away from the gaze and returned it back, to show his utmost adoration and desire for him through his eyes.
That displayed, the singer only chuckled and faced the crowd once again.
They pulled their hand from the table—but, the middle of their back, however, was still rooted right by the side of the table. Hongjoong can't catch on to what they were doing as it was hidden behind their back.
They snapped their right hand outward with a glove hanging on its palm.
Their right hand has no gloves on. The singer looks back to Hongjoong and throws the unused glove behind their back and struts to the center of the floor.
This shouldn't make Hongjoong's heart beat faster.
This is not as scandalous as his mind had told him to be, he had seen and felt naked bodies, holding and touching them all the same—but this, but this. However,
It maddens him to know that said singer was so close in his grasp and proximity, that the said singer could rile him up with a few gestures that aren't so vulgar and scandalous as what Hongjoong had experienced on a daily basis. He was as good as a 13-year-old virgin in this bar.
He curses the curtain for hiding this beautiful gem from his sight. He wants—no, he craves him ardently, and this was not enough.
He thrums the fingertips of his hands against the surface of the table impatiently.
The singer moves their hands to the rhythm and the melody of the song, truly embodying the song through their expressions, voice, and body.
How come, someone is this passionate about singing, Hongjoong wondered.
The song begins to scale higher in volume and melody, rising toward something more grandiose and glorious to the climax of the song.
Hongjoong waited expectantly for the singer to go beyond their limits, and it was up to what he expected. The last sequence of the song was sung wonderfully by the singer, their voice filled his heart with soaring joy and wonder.
At the end of it, the singer reached out their unoccupied hands to the crowd and poured all their heart out into the last part of the song.
But it was not all.
They pulled his outreached hand back and enclose it again around his microphone with their other hand.
The song hasn't ended yet to Hongjoong's astonishment, the closing sequence was a contrast to the grand rise of the song before this. This part was much more serene and silent.
And with the closing sequence, the singer also inched closer to Hongjoong, step by step, to no avail.
Their stare didn't move an inch from Hongjoong's eyes, it was intense and fierce, but their steps were not. They were taking their time with it as it was unhurried. Hongjoong can discern that the singer is secretly enjoying this.
It took every willpower in Hongjoong's body not to offer his hand to the walking singer. Instead, he grips the tablecloth tightly in his hand.
Finally, the singer reached his table at the end of the song. The singer did not break eye contact between them and the sitting Hongjoong.
They put their mic and place their hand on the table as they lean forward into Hongjoong's space. At that moment, Hongjoong felt like strings of yarn wedged tightly between a propeller.
The singer grabs Hongjoong's chin with his thumb and pointer finger, and with those fingers, they tilted Hongjoong's head backward to situate him properly.
The air was heavy, and the atmosphere between him and the singer was tense at the moment. The singer cradles his cheek with his palm and slowly pulls him forward.
Hongjoong didn't dare to move except when the singer pulled his head closer to them. He also has no intent on closing his eyelids, so he stares at them dazedly through his eyelashes
With each passing second, they are shortening the gap between themselves.
And stop.
Hongjooong was halted in place by the hands on his cheek, not only that, but the singer also stopped in place.
He was only a breath away from that compelling red lips hovering in front of him—he wanted to beg, he wanted to close the distance himself, yet, his body chose not to listen to his orders as of the direst of moments.
Watching his reactions was entertainment. The singer only smirks and chuckles toward his face and rises back to looming over hongjoong. They release their hold on Hongjoong's face and promptly go back to the stage with their mic nestled safely between his palm.
With an outreach of his hand, “wait!” He exclaimed. Toppling over the wine glass, the contents spilling and coloring the tablecloth with maroon red. His focus is elsewhere to care about the slowly spreading liquid on the white tablecloth, effectively tainting the formerly pure tablecloth.
No matter how hard he wanted to move, his feet were rooted in place.
The singer only gave him a glance over the shoulder and continued walking.
When the singer reached their rightful place once again, on the stage with the other band members, they sent an award-winning smile to their crowd and bowed respectfully with their crew. Muttering their thank you, bidding them farewell, and leaving the stage, in that order.
One by one, the members follow along and leave the stage empty aside from the silent musical instruments placed there.
And after, the curtains were closed.
The lights turned back on again, gleaming over every corner of the bar. The earlier dark and pitch-black surroundings were now replaced by yellow and orange lights hovering over them. The quiet atmosphere and tense surroundings that chilled his body, gone.
The chattering and laughing continued on as if it never stopped in the first place. The customers continued their conversation and gossiped again.
His hovering hand goes back down. However, the trembling on the surface of his skin didn’t stop. He must have looked like a madman with his widened pupils and ragged breath, but he can't believe what his eyes are seeing.
He looked everywhere, how come the people around him acted as if the event never happened in the first place?
“Mr. Kim?” He snapped his head around to the source of his call and stared without blinking. “I'm Choi Jongho, the one that asked you to come to this place?”
He was slightly agape. He almost forgot his initial purpose, to meet his client.
“My apologies, I was thinking about many things.” He closed his statement with a friendly chuckle, which was returned by Jongho all the same.
“I hope none of them were from my request.”
“Absolutely not, I am glad to be able to help you.” Jongho laughed.
“I'm deeply sorry for my tardiness, I was caught in the traffic.” Hongjoong shook his head and offered him the most dazzling smile.
“It's fine, happens to the best of us.” Jongho was a chatty man.
“I thought the traffic would last only for a minute or so, and to my surprise when I reached here it lasted for almost 20 minutes! Can't you believe it?” Hongjoong strikes his gaze back at Jongho.
20 minutes? No, it should be longer than that. The last time he checked the clock—before the ‘show’ started—it was already a quarter before ten.
He glance at his watch again, it was eight twenty-seven.
“It is nearing the weekend, after all, Mr. Choi, everyone is looking for a nice place to have fun.”
“I agree, and about places, how do you like this establishment, Mr. Kim?” Enough with the pleasantries, Hongjoong had begged, he only wanted to see that singer once again.
“It's wonderful, the ambiance is just exquisite, no wonder there are a lot of people coming here.”
“I'm glad you're pleased with it, I can't really enjoy other places besides this one. I hope you don't mind at all.”
“None are taken.” Hongjoong veered his attention to the tablecloth in front of him and smooth out the apparent creases.
As he smooths out the tablecloth, his attention was caught by a red dot the size of a penny, near where his glass was originally placed at. It just dawned on him that his glass of wine magically filled back, with no sign of it being tipped over by his abrasiveness.
However, the red dot was in the same shade as the liquid inside his glass.
Jongho peeked at where Hongjoong is staring right now.
“Oh God, my deepest apology, it seems the service wasn't as thorough with the cleaning!” Hongjoong assured him it was no big deal, but in light of the event, he shoots him a question.
“It’s only a single error, this place is great. Oh, do they usually play live entertainment?” Hongjoong pointed toward where the instruments are located.
“They do, on some days there would be a live band playing some jazz, and on some days they would be accompanied by a singer.” Bingo. Hongjoong sees a sliver of hope.
“Really, are they going to play today?”
“Sadly, no, Mr. Kim, it's still the day after tomorrow. No one is scheduled on this day.” Jongho caught the obvious confusion on Hongjoong's face. “I know because this is my father's establishment, and sometimes I sing here when the opportunity arises.”
That explains why he's more comfortable in this place. Realizing he could scrape more information from the other, he continues to prod on the subject.
“Oh, are there any other singers beside you?”
“No.”
Hongjoong freeze. “If you had asked this two months before, well yes, there was! But she already quit. So, there's only me for the time being, when I’m not busy.”
No way. There's just no way that singer was only a figment of his imagination.
“No one?”
Jongho shook his head.
The color drained from his face. “But, sometimes we let customers sing to the front, but it's an uncommon occasion.”
That singer came from behind the curtain stages, there's no way they’re a customer. Especially if we account for their outfit, it was too flashy and embellishing (and sexy) to be worn by a regular customer.
“I see, mayhaps in the future, I'll watch you sing,” Jongho was overjoyed with his words, “now, may I know for what purpose you ask of me to come to this place?” If Jongho can see the stammering in his fingers, he didn't call upon it.
But only with that invitation, he promptly stated his intent for asking Hongjoong to come and what kind of project he is offering to Hongjoong.
Hongjoong listens, he listens to it intently all the while taking notes of it, in case he needs to remember the detailing of his prospective client's wishes. But that attention lasted temporarily as he accidentally looked at the single rose on his table. It was blooming in its entirety.
He didn’t see any other table having the same blooming rose as he had.
He scrutinized the rose a little bit closer, and inside it, he saw a smudge of lipstick residue on one of its petals.