There were only three options for one to find Taekwoon at during a music show recording: The scenario, his group’s dressing room or hidden in an isolated hall to escape the nosiness of his band members. The female by then knew about his hideouts very well, thus it hadn’t being hard for her to find him on an empty hall, sitting on the floor of the farest corner (as usual), with his thighs pressed against his chest and his head lowered as his gaze was focused on the screen of his phone which rested atop his knees. He didn’t heard her approaching him, as his full attention was focused on the texts he kept on sending and receiving, had he realized she was close, he would have attempted to dry his damp cheeks, but instead, a glimmer slid down the black strike that traveled down his skin, not even him knew for how long had he being crying, but he had already, notoriously, ruined his performance’s make up as it now ran down his pale cheeks. “Oppa…?” Her voice soft, a trembling whisper as she had come close enough to realize that he was, indeed, crying. The call for him, even though gentle, startled him and his shoulders twitched in surprise, head turning to have his blurry gaze fix on the female’s worried expression and his red, puffy eyes widened for a second as it finally sank in his mind that she had seen him in such state. “Ji– Jiae-ssi…” His voice cracked, and he rushed to get up from the floor, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants “What are you doing here? We shouldn’t be here– let’s go back to our dressing rooms…” He babbled, his hands shaky as he was clumsily trying to wipe his face with the back of them, failing miserably as the ruined make up only became messier. “Ah– stupid make up getting all over my eyes…”
