"None of this is a coincidence. I'm just going with the flow.The world is different from yesterday just with your joy."

0:00 |───────── 2:20

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With only the illumination of the flitting strobe lights, Rein tipped her martini back, waiting for that sweet burning sensation that came with her usual. Anything that could take the hard edge off of a long night was certainly welcome in her eyes.

She was jittery that particular evening, so jittery that she had resorted to going back to her old habit of picking at the skin of her cuticles, something she hadn't done since she was a child. Her eyes scanned the undulating crowd as she swirled her drink around in its glass. The strobe lights changed color every second it seemed like, from brilliant red to blue to purple... She blinked and looked away; it was enough to make her nauseous.

Girls danced with their whiskey and tequila still in their manicured hands as they spilled half of its contents onto the floor. Like it mattered; a $10 drink was mere pocket change to them. Rolex watches and Gucci belts caught the light from time to time, glittering like timeless jewels. The bass of whatever the hell was playing felt like it was shaking her very core and her heartbeats thudded to the beat of the music.

God. It was all for her.

The very notion of that statement made her want to laugh out loud. None of it was for her, but her brain continued to imagine that glorious possibility.

She could picture it now. Thousands of people on the dance floor, screaming her name as joyous tears streaked their eyes. A simple how's everyone doing tonight? would have them in a frenzy.

For now, though, all she had was an hour on the stage and her own sanity. A wisp of thought that had lingered on her mind all day haunted her once more. Would that be enough? Truly, she didn't know when it came to Club Octagon.

Club Octagon, located in the very heart of the nightlife in Gangnam, was notorious for its inhabitants which mostly included leather-clad, little-black-dress trust-fund babies. Her innate disgust with her fellow humans in this club grew and intensified in these slow seconds. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and unabated lust clung to the air and permeated into her being, earning a shiver from the singer. People gave her a curious glance from time to time, but no one approached her since she arrived an hour ago, which she didn't mind all that much. However, nothing about this place seemed natural.

Her hands started to shake as her nerves started to get the best of her.

Get it together, woman. Her manager had pulled some strings to get some of the biggest producers all in one spot, and Rein wasn't about to waste the opportunity. And on the off chance she fucked it all up and landed her ass back to square one, at least she would go out with a bang.

Rein swirled her martini a little more before downing the rest of it, finishing with a sigh.

Just what the hell was she doing here? She felt like nothing but a shadow, the club teeming with young people's energy. Not to say she was old, by any means. At the healthy age of twenty-three, she was doing alright for herself. In fact, this was the first time she felt young (a euphemism for sexy in her mind) in years. When she had looked in the hotel mirror, she had felt like a different person.

A velvet, maroon dress that made her ass look like a million bucks, delicate, gold jewelry, and black stiletto heels that combined to create a deadly concoction of mysterious allure. Her burnt crimson lips accented her Cupid's bow in such a way that whispered to the common passerby come on, baby, you know you want it.

Or, perhaps that was her imagination.

Her manager caught her attention from the other side of the bar. Rein repressed a giggle and gave her a wave. The petite Korean looked like the sharp businesswoman she was, sporting a white blouse, pencil skirt, and pumps, but her surroundings made her professionalism almost laughable.

Almost.

"You shouldn't be drinking before a show, Ms. Jones," her manager said, snatching away her glass and setting it down with a thud. Her accent was light enough to understand everything she said but harsh enough for anyone to notice it was there. Rein gave her a sheepish grin.

"Sorry. You know I get nervous before a gig. Besides, I've only had... two glasses. Probably." Ms. Cho glanced at the cocktail, then back at her with disdain.

"Your show in forty-nine minutes. You should be backstage warming up. How many times do I or a staff member have to remind you..."

Rein resisted the urge to throttle her manager and pursed her lips instead. You think I don't know that, you nagging hag? Jesus. It was as if her mom were right there with her, only much, much worse.

Blood rushed to her head as she felt the martini do its work. A soft pounding had started on her left temple, and Ms. Cho's tone seemed like it had gone up an octave. Rein knew how much she was drinking when she let herself give in to the temptation of quick relief.

She knew it probably wouldn't be a good idea to get drunk before a show, but it had become somewhat of a habit of hers back in the states: get to the venue, freak out, have a few of sippy-sips, perform, get some more sippy-sips into her bloodstream to "celebrate", and finally deal with a hazy recollection, Ms. Cho's beratement, and a skull-splitting headache the day afterward.

So worth it.

"You're right. I was being irresponsible. I'll go backstage and warm up right now," Rein said with an apologetic smile. Ms. Cho shook her head and gestured for her to follow. Her heart thumped more quickly now as she couldn't help but focus in on each and every person that she passed. Every look they gave her sunk into her brain and stayed there like a plague.

She thought fondly back on her gigs back in the states. They were packed, sure, but she felt like she knew them somehow, like they were one of her own. Now when she looked out, everyone was a complete total stranger.

During her early days as a rising star, she had performed at dingy little bars on her acoustic guitar, singing her heart out to people who weren't there to watch her. But that was fine in those days. Those simple days when she didn't have a manager, didn't have meet-and-greets, didn't have to deal with jetlag every other week.

Those simple, boring days. Did Rein miss them? Maybe, but maybe not as much as she thought she did.

At least, not after tonight.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of my story! Vote/comment if you enjoyed it.