Chapter Text
Zoey had never much liked the taste of Sea Urchin. Come to think of it, she couldn't imagine anyone ever truly liking the taste of such a thing. Surely it could only be one of those posh foods where you grit your teeth and attempt to endure the flavour until it eventually becomes somewhat bearable. A bizarre attempt to appear high-society that bordered on downright masochistic.
She took a slice of bread instead.
"I saw the sales from the world tour. I must say I'm impressed, but there is certainly still room for improvements in your marketing strategies." The woman opposite said with a lucid flick of her free wrist as her thumb continued drilling out work emails on her phone, designer watch glinting in the midday light that spilled in from the floor to ceiling windows. Her voice carried a corporate lilt as it cut through the surrounding chatter of the high-rise restaurant, filled with successful businesspeople, high-flying lawyers, and big-name financiers alike.
"You have a lot more room for self-promotion now, you know. In this age of social media," She offered. The strategy was apparently so important that she broke her gaze away from the device for a whole five seconds. "For example... Rumi Darling, how many followers do you have on Insta now?" Her eyes retrained on the device.
Rumi gave a laugh that was impressively non-awkward. "That kind of thing, I don't really ch-"
"250 million! That's exactly the sort of numbers you should be aiming for too, Zoey. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to hit those targets."
"Thank you. I'll definitely work on it," Zoey answered passively, keen to not draw that particular conversation out longer than it needed to be. The woman took a bite of her lunch with a self-satisfied hum.
Wisdom imparted, successful early afternoon. Zoey could practically hear the woman's brain putting a check mark against a box on her never ending list of work-related jobs. The box labelled Zoey.
"So what do the next few weeks have in store for you?" She said as the amuse bouche were cleared to make way for slates of tenderloin tartare and les accompagnement.
Raw beef paste! Dude?! Zoey wondered who she had to blame for that particular, inebriated, you-guys'll-never-guess-what-I-came-up-with thought. Maybe the French? They certainly had a track record of creating monstrosities and calling them delicacies (see snails!).
Anyway, whoever the originator, it had been created. And as a result... yet more inedible food. God, Zoey could murder a hamburger right about now. A McDonalds one. With plastic cheese, and ranch, and extra gherkins, and-
"Zoey," the woman said with a look of dissatisfaction.
The rapper shook herself from her food-thought-trance and quickly sucked the drool from inside her cheek that had been threatening to make an appearance. Maybe she was a cartoon character after all? "What- Oh right, yes- this week erm-"
"What have I told you about daydreaming, Zoey? You need to be switched on; you never know when the next opportunity will come along."
It took Zoey enormous effort to force the insincerity from her smile as she looked back at the woman. She probably wasn't entirely successful either. Rumi caught her eye with a sympathetic glance.
"Mira is modelling in Italy at the moment, so we're flying out tomorrow to support her."
"And Mira is...?"
"Our... bandmate. She's our bandmate."
Zoey felt some of her frustration dissipate as Rumi's hand found her knee.
"Oh, of course! The visual coordinator! Her socials are flawless. I had a client in the other day who used her account on their vision board. You should take note."
Zoey smiled another stiff smile as yet another pointed look was thrown in her direction.
"Mira and I have a very different follower base, Mom- I-"
"Zoey, please. I stopped being your mother, when you stopped being a child. Addressing me as such is very unbecoming." The suited woman pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing a short sigh before continuing. "Posting 'just got outta bed' pictures in a onesie with your hair in a mess is something I'm sure your followers can live without. And perhaps stop using text speak in your captions; it's unprofessional."
"I'm #KeepingItReal," Zoey said in a silly voice, a tired attempt to try and lighten the mood. She coughed awkwardly as she was met with her mother's expression.
Seriously, bro? I talk fast for a living. How professional do you want me to be?!
The woman shook her head quietly, gaze lowered. Apparently she was just as exhausted with the conversation as Zoey was, but she was not about to lose her composure in public. Zoey knew she would rather die.
"Well, this has been... er- I appreciate you taking the time to meet up with me," she said with a tight smile. "And it has been... illuminating, to see you both again."
"Likewise." Zoey was so done with this entire interaction. Or maybe this interaction was so done with her? She couldn't tell.
Rumi cleared her throat. "It's been good to see you too, Ms. Choi. Thank you very much for lunch."
Zoey's mother pulled her blazer over her shoulders and swept towards the exit, her expensive, glossed-black high-heels clicking against the tiles.
Zoey let out a heavy breath of relief. I'm glad that's finally-
The woman turned back to them suddenly-
So close. She'd been so very close to escape. The rapper re-plastered the smile back onto her face.
"Oh Zoey, I forgot to mention, I've set you up with Dr. Bak at his private clinic in Cheongdam. 12 sessions, full custom laser treatment. It's already paid for. Should help with the blotchiness under the stage lighting," she informed casually gesturing to the face. "Ciao."
-
"Are you sureeee my skin isn't blotchy?" Rumi heard Zoey asking from the bathroom for the third time in the 20 minutes since she'd woken up, her mother's 'gift' from the day previous, amongst everything else, still plaguing the maknae's mind.
Rumi made her way through to the ensuite to find Zoey's slightly downcast expression reflecting back at her in the mirror. She was biting her lip over-thinkingly, brow furrowed. "I mean what if she's right? What if my skin is..."
Zoey trailed off as Rumi turned her round gently by her hips till they were face to face.
"Your skin is soft, and supple, and beautiful. With gorgeous little freckles, like starbursts across your cheeks." Rumi ran a thumb over her cheek, smiling as the younger girl began to flush a giddy pink. She tried to avert her gaze but the singer tilted her head back up with a commanding finger.
Someone's breath caught.
"And cute dimples that appear every single time you smile and every single time you laugh."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm," Rumi hummed, her voice lowering. "So, blotchy? No. Hot? Unquestionably."
"My skin?" Zoey raised an eyebrow, a shadow of a smile tugging at her lips.
"Well, you're one of the two hottest women alive. So it stands to reason that your skin is hot too, no?"
"Smooth," Zoey whispered against her lips, as the singer wrapped an arm around her waist. She drifted in closer. "You gonna kiss me, or what?"
Rumi cupped the girl's face and kissed her gently, a steady rhythm that lasted just a few seconds.
Zoey huffed as the singer pulled away.
"You can have more when you're ready. We've got to get to the airport on time this afternoon."
"So not fair," the maknae grumbled, setting her moisturiser back on the shelf and picking up her toothbrush.
The morning and early afternoon of pre-travel routine passed by remarkably quickly, but eventually they found themselves in the back of their car, lunched, coffeed, and fully packed - nothing short of a miracle given the absence of the dancer who was regularly the one ready early, rushing around trying to complete last minute jobs for her more type B girlfriends. Let's be real, it was usually Zoey tumbling through the flat in a bundle of her own chaos. Though, Rumi also had her moments.
But not today!
Today, there were no half-filled suitcases in the middle of the lounge, clothes spilling out like lava from an erupting volcano; there was no last minute 'Babe, please can you stuff this in? ...erm, I don't know. Somewhere. Maybe try the big case'; there wasn't even a search for the infamous lucky hairdryer that seemed to go missing at exactly the most inconvenient moment, always the morning of, most frequently just as the driver was pulling up.
Normally it didn't matter; being fortunate enough to have a private jet for them and their team did absolutely have its upsides. Including being able to take off 20 minutes late and make up time in the air.
They unfortunately did not have that luxury today, Mira, understandably, having taken the jet to Milan ahead of them. It made sense given she was working and representing the band on the world fashion-stage. In comparison, they were simply following on a glorified holiday, even if they were there to support her. Besides, it was her limelight and neither Zoey nor Rumi had any interest in overshadowing that by making their presence known, and were therefore travelling under the radar.
"Is it bad that I don't want to tell her?" Zoey said suddenly, breaking the quiet hum of the engine as they drove.
Rumi cocked her head.
"I mean, it's not like I think she'd have a problem with it- I genuinely don't think she would. I just..." Zoey's eyes fell shut as she took a heavy breath.
"I just don't want her turning this into a marketing strategy too. Because that's what she'd do. I know she would."
The plush leather back seat underneath her started to feel unpleasant beneath her finger tips.
"I know we have to sell so much of ourselves in this industry. But this... I just don't want my love for you two to be some portfolio entry."
Rumi met her eye with a soft smile.
"They don't get to have this." To Zoey's own surprise, the words came out in a choke. "This is... this is s-sacred."
"Aww Sweetheart, come here," Rumi cooed, breathing a gentle laugh. She pulled the maknae into her arms as the girl shuffled across the middle seat.
Zoey's reaction to being held was a lot like a cat's reaction to a warm paving, basked in sunlight. A soft cherry-blossom pink spread through Rumi's patterns as the maknae buried her face in the girl's shoulder and stretched across her body with a happy sigh. The sniffles quickly quieted as breathing settled and upset dissipated.
"You know for all the pain that Celine caused, she did at least know how to protect me from the public eye- well, parts of me." Rumi ran an absent minded finger over a pattern that tracked down her wrist. "I'm sorry you don't have that, Zo."
As she sat up, Zoey's face expressed a mixed emotion at the mention of their old mentor. The internalised prejudice of Rumi's legal guardian having almost gotten the half-demon killed, let alone having almost split HUNTRX up for good.
Rumi huffed a mystified laugh. "Sorry, just... how did that even happen?! Your Dad: the warm, slightly chaotic, small town, big heart, goof-ball and- Well, your mum!"
Zoey snorted.
"Oh, trust me, I know! She almost killed him many, many times, growing up." She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, hair down from her trademark space buns. "They split up when I was 12. Before that it was hell. God it was like whenever Dad found his spark again, she'd find a flaw - or an 'improvement' as she would say - and chuck a bucket of water over it." A humourless laugh reverberated in her chest.
"And because you're so similar to him it felt like your spark was always under threat too?"
Zoey nodded, eyes fixed on the window as they hit the Yeongjong bridge. "I don't think she's a bad person. Really, I don't. She cares about making everything optimal because she had to fight tooth and nail for what she had. Going to America right after her parents died young, no siblings, no grandparents, growing up in a house where non-holey shoes were a luxury. She had all that to deal with." Zoey sighed. "No, she's not a monster. She just cares the only way she knows how."
"Doesn't mean it hurts any less."
"Damn straight," Zoey said in English.
"Either you're accusing me of something that I will very happily disprove or that's an Americanism I haven't heard before."
Zoey hummed, a smirk spreading across her face as she pretended to consider. "I think the latter."
"You think," Rumi said, cocking a brow dangerously.
"Mhm," Zoey said innocently, "I need more evidence before I can be 100% sure."
"That sounded a lot like a challenge."
The maknae found herself leaning into the girl's temple, a tricksy fire burning bright behind her eyes.
"It was."
"Excuse me, Rumi-ssi, Zoey-ssi, we are 10 minutes out from the airport," came a warm voice through the speakers as the intercom crackled into life.
Zoey slumped back into her seat with a groan, making Rumi giggle. The singer clicked the push-to-talk, just next to the window control.
"Thanks, Kim Gisa-nim! We'll get ourselves together back here."
"Maybe we have time..." Zoey said hopefully, looking at her girlfriend with a pout. "Just a quickie."
"Zoey, no!" the half-demon laughed.
Despite the half-demon's objections, a quiet expression came over her face as she looked away. A hunger. She chucked a hoodie at the maknae before her brain had a chance to convince her otherwise.
"I can't believe you're making me be the sensible one!" Rumi grumbled, shooting a side eye at the girl, no real heat in the gesture.
Rumi faced the window as Zoey worked her purple hair into a low braid. The oranges and yellows of autumn-kissed trees came into view over the other side of the water. The fall had undoubtedly made its home once again in the city, driving out the heavy heat of the summer monsoon season, and leaving a fresh breeze and gentle warmth in its wake. The maknae finished up and tucked the braid down the back of the singer's hoodie, planting a kiss on her cheek.
"Headband," Zoey instructed, taking the material as Rumi offered it over her shoulder.
"Okay, face me," she said after stretching it carefully over the half-demon's hair. Rumi span round and the remaining strands of purple hair were tucked neatly beneath the fabric line. "Okay, done."
"Remind me again why I have to wear this."
"Because you're arguably the biggest K-Pop artist in the world and you have, instantly recognisable, bright purple hair."
Rumi huffed at her reflection in her phone camera. "I look ridiculous."
"Yeah, ridiculously cute," Zoey corrected, eyes suddenly shining brighter.
She closed the distance and kissed the girl deeply.
Rumi moaned, hands scrambling at the fabric on the maknae's shoulders for purchase. A frantic attempt to pull closer.
Zoey was one step ahead of her, already pulling the singer's hips underneath her, taking the half-demon down to the horizontal. One hand venturing up underneath the girl's top.
Rumi whined, pushing into the contact unashamedly. She felt a smile against her lips.
"My good girl. There's that beautiful voice," Zoey laughed softly against her lips.
"You-" Rumi started breathlessly as a heady golden colour flowed through her patterns. "You are testing your luck."
"Sounds dangerous," Zoey hummed, her tone entirely unbothered, as she quietly adjusted to position her thigh between Rumi's legs.
"Keep pushing and find out," she promised.
Rumi went to tug the maknae back down on top of her, in the process slipping further down the seat.
The trap sprang closed.
Her arms tightened over the girl's back as the contact melted into her core with a languid roll of her hips. "Ohmygodzoey" came a breathy gasp as Rumi's head pressed hard against the maknae's chest in a beautifully fucked out, hazy way.
"I think I like testing my luck," Zoey mused, taking a quick glance out the window. Terminal 2 was just coming into view. "Oh, would you look at that? We're here. Don't worry, Aegiya. You can have more when we get there, yeah?"
The flushed girl below her scoffed at the audacity.
"I will remember this, Zoey Lee. Mark. My. Words."
Zoey only smirked harder as she pulled the singer upright and re-tucked all of the purple that had inevitably come loose.