Kaija sat across from Karl in the waiting lounge, one leg tucked lazily beneath her as she watched the young man annihilate the two large cups of boba tea in his hands like a college student shotgunning cheap beer after finals.
The lounge itself was quiet now compared to the chaos from earlier. Soft instrumental music drifted from hidden speakers overhead. The muted golden lighting reflected against the polished black coffee table between them, while outside the tall windows, the KE campus buzzed under the pale afternoon sun.
Meanwhile, Karl Hanski sat hunched forward on the couch like an angry gremlin guarding treasure.
His cheeks were puffed out to an almost ridiculous degree, stuffed full of white pearls as he chewed furiously. His jaw moved nonstop. One hand still clutched the emptying cup while the other gripped the second like someone might steal it from him.
And somehow, despite the murderous expression constantly twisting his face, there was also unmistakable bliss there.
Pure, spiritual satisfaction.
Kaija slowly sipped her own drink.
'This man is twenty-eight years old.'
She genuinely could not believe it.
Not with that face.
Not with those puffed-up cheeks.
Not with the way he looked one inconvenience away from throwing himself onto the floor of the lounge and screaming.
"Feel better now?" she asked at last, lazily stirring the pearls around with her straw.
"Barely!" Karl snapped.
He slammed both empty cups onto the coffee table with dramatic violence.
The sharp sound echoed through the lounge.
A nearby trainee visibly flinched before hurriedly looking away.
Kaija blinked once.
"You've got milk foam all over your mouth," she informed him, pointing calmly toward her own lips.
Karl's brow twitched.
Then, with the fury of a man insulted on a spiritual level, he wiped furiously at his mouth using the back of his hand.
"I know!" he barked.
Kaija's face immediately flattened.
She instinctively tightened both hands around her drink like a shield.
'Good Lord. His default speaking volume really is attempted murder.'
"Alright then." She rose from her chair with a tired sigh. "If you're done enjoying your tea, then I'm going."
"Stop right there!"
Karl shot upright so abruptly the couch creaked beneath him.
Before Kaija could even fully turn around, he was already glaring at her like she had personally committed crimes against humanity.
"Before you go," he demanded, stabbing a finger toward her, "tell me exactly why you had to pick that song out of my hundreds of brilliant other songs, you little insolent creature!"
Kaija blinked twice.
The sheer emotional investment this man had in the situation almost impressed her.
"Hm…" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Let's see. Why did I pick that song?"
Karl folded both arms tightly across his chest, eyes narrowed.
"Oh!" Kaija snapped her fingers softly. "Didn't I literally say in my introduction that it was one of my favorite songs?"
She pointed at him accusingly.
"I thought I made it pretty clear by remembering every single word in that ultra-wordy, ridiculously lengthy song."
Karl's face darkened further.
"But the thing is!" he snapped. "You could've picked anyone else's song! Why the fuck did you have to pick mine?"
His turquoise eyes narrowed sharply.
"You think you can sing it better than me?"
"Oh, hell no."
Kaija answered so quickly it almost startled him.
"I didn't think that at all."
Then she shrugged casually.
"I picked your song because I wanted to impress you."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Karl stared.
And stared.
His entire face emptied itself of expression.
The rage.
The mockery.
The irritation.
All of it vanished.
Only blank disbelief remained.
"No fucking way," he muttered.
He immediately looked away, folding his arms even tighter across his chest.
The pout that settled onto his face made him look less like a terrifying superstar and more like an offended child refusing to admit he'd just been complimented.
"Stop fucking with me," Karl grumbled. "I remember very clearly that you said straight to my face my music was only good for putting you to sleep."
"Oh, well, the later albums do."
Kaija said it so casually Karl's head snapped back toward her in outrage.
"But the first ones?" she continued before he could explode. "Hell, those were fire and air crashing together into full-blown firestorms."
Her sleepy eyes lifted toward him again.
For the first time since entering the lounge, there was actual life in them.
Actual interest.
"They were exactly my type."
Karl went still.
"And Sociopath?" Kaija continued. "That was the best thing you ever wrote in those mad-genius albums."
She frowned faintly.
"What the hell happened to you? Why'd you stop making music like that?"
The silence that followed felt completely different from the earlier ones.
Earlier, Karl's silence had been outrage.
Now it was something heavier.
Something exhausted.
His gaze slowly lowered toward the floor.
The sharpness around his face dulled.
"Shit happened to me," Karl said flatly.
No dramatics.
No screaming.
No sarcasm.
Just four tired words.
Then he dropped backward onto the couch.
His back hit the cushions with a heavy thud.
One arm sprawled across the top of the couch while his legs stretched carelessly forward.
As if even thinking about the subject had suddenly drained him.
Kaija stared at him quietly.
'Oh.'
That answer sounded far too genuine.
"There's something seriously wrong with you," Karl muttered after a long moment.
His eyes slid back toward her.
"Either you're a complete idiot, which you probably aren't considering how you sang my song…"
His jaw tightened.
"And that's something not just anyone can do."
Then his face twisted again.
"Or you're an absolute genius, which I refuse to believe because I hate just looking at your face."
Kaija stood there silently for several seconds.
Trying to process that sentence.
_'Was that a compliment? An insult? A threat?'
She genuinely could not tell.
"Erm… okay?" she mumbled weakly.
Karl scowled harder.
Confused beyond recovery, Kaija simply turned around.
"Sorry," she sighed, "I know you don't want lunch, but I do. My salmon rice is waiting."
Karl's jaw went taut.
Again.
The speed at which she lost interest in him seemed to offend him on a molecular level.
"Then I pray you choke on your goddamn salmon rice!" he shouted.
But Kaija was already walking away.
She didn't even look back.
The lounge doors swung shut behind her.
Karl stared at the empty doorway.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then suddenly—
"Argh!"
He punched violently into the back cushion of the couch.
Again.
And again.
The poor furniture squeaked in suffering.
"Tch, fucking crazy little insolent birdie!" Karl grumbled furiously.
Another punch.
"Didn't even fucking invite me to lunch!"
Punch.
"Didn't even fucking say goodbye!"
Punch.
"She thinks she can just buy me boba tea and be done with it?"
Punch.
"Do I look that easily bribed, huh?"
His rant only escalated from there.
"Just two cups of the most perfect combination of boba tea in the world and you think I'm sold?"
He pointed furiously toward the empty cups.
"It wasn't even from my favorite boba place!"
Another frustrated groan ripped out of him.
"Arghhhh, you're not getting away with this, fucking birdie! Mark my damn words!"
Perhaps there was more.
Much more.
But the girl in question was already long gone.
—
One entire week passed.
One entire week of chaotic schedules.
Dance classes where Antony treated her like an infectious disease.
Vocal classes where Karl verbally abused every living organism equally.
Modeling sessions Kaija now avoided like active war zones.
Behavioral classes.
Media training.
Endless evaluations.
Endless faces.
Endless noise.
By Sunday evening, Kaija's introverted soul had reached complete spiritual collapse.
"When will this boring torture finally end?" she muttered tiredly.
The elevator carried her slowly upward toward the twentieth floor of Building S.
Kaija leaned fully against the mirrored wall behind her, eyes half-open.
"Maybe selling all my organs would've been a better career decision."
Her reflection looked equally dead inside.
"At least then I wouldn't have to spend the next few years surrounded by these people."
The elevator gave a soft ding.
The doors slid open.
The corridor outside stretched long and silent beneath warm golden lights.
Only two doors existed on the entire floor.
Room 1.
Room 2.
Kaija dragged herself forward one exhausted step at a time.
She was already reaching for her key card when a faint creaking sound echoed behind her.
Her sleepy mind sharpened instantly.
Slowly, she turned.
The door to Room 2 was opening.
"Right," Kaija muttered. "Neighbor."
A tall figure stepped out.
Chestnut hair neatly combed back.
Black tailored trousers.
White dress shirt.
Dark leather shoes that probably cost more than her old monthly rent.
And those silver eyes.
Stormy.
Steady.
Focused directly on her.
Kaija blinked.
Her exhaustion vanished just enough for recognition to settle in.
"Charles?"
The name slipped naturally from her lips before she could stop it.
Charles Kosonen's expression softened almost imperceptibly at hearing his name spoken so casually.
"Eh…" Kaija scratched lightly at her cheek. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to live in some giant rich-person villa off campus?"
The faintest smile curved against Charles's lips.
"I do live in a rather grand villa off campus," he admitted.
Then he stepped closer.
"But I live here as well."
"But I haven't seen you all week."
"I've been occupied with other companies under the Kosonen Group."
His voice remained calm.
Controlled.
Smooth as polished steel.
"But when time allows," he continued, "I prefer staying here. It's considerably more convenient for handling matters related to KE."
"Oh."
Kaija nodded slowly.
'Cool. Great. Awesome. My terrifying CEO neighbor lives directly across from me.'
She still had not decided whether this arrangement was a blessing or the beginning of psychological warfare.
"Um… then I guess you've got KE business to handle tonight too," she concluded awkwardly.
Her hand lifted toward the scanner beside her door.
"I'll just—"
Before the key card could touch the scanner, Charles's hand moved.
Swift.
Effortless.
His palm rested against the panel beside hers, blocking the scanner completely.
Kaija froze.
The corridor suddenly felt very small.
Very quiet.
Far too intimate.
Slowly, she lifted her eyes toward him.
Charles stood closer now than she had realized.
Close enough that the sleeve of his coat brushed lightly against her wrist.
Close enough for her to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne beneath the colder scent of night air lingering on his clothes.
Close enough that the calmness in his silver eyes became genuinely dangerous.
"I have no KE business to take care of right now," Charles said.
His tone remained perfectly level.
Then he nodded lightly toward the open doorway of Room 2.
"If you've nothing else on your mind," he continued calmly, "would you like to come over for a drink?"