When Kaija was finally summoned into the room, a few men and women in black suits were filing out, their faces taut as if they had just endured a strenuous session with whoever still remained inside.
That person happened to be the CEO she was here to see today.
Three days ago, the man had been just some random billionaire she happened to serve once on a plane, had dinner with once, and hoped never to see again.
Now, however, he was holding the fate of her debt, no, practically her organs, in his hands.
He sat at the table, his face cold and expressionless as ever, his brow faintly drawn together.
He was wearing a black suit today as well, almost identical to the one he had worn when she first saw him on the plane, except for a glossy brown tie that stood out against the dark fabric.
"Kaija," he greeted, gesturing for her to come closer the moment his gaze shifted to her.
Then, just like last time, he rose from his chair and pulled out the seat beside his, gentlemanly as ever.
"Make yourself comfortable," he invited.
Reluctantly, she stepped forward and settled into the offered seat.
"What do you think of our facilities?" he asked, dropping back into his own seat.
Kaija wasn't sure whether she was imagining it, but his expression seemed to relax slightly the moment she sat down.
"Everything is top quality, Mr. Kosonen," she replied. "But on the way here, I must admit all I could think about was what you wanted to discuss with me today."
The corner of his lips curved faintly. "Straightforward as ever, I like that," he said, pressing a button beneath the table.
A few seconds later, a woman in her thirties entered. Her umber hair was twisted neatly at the nape of her neck, her expression even more severe than Charles's.
She placed two thick stacks of papers on the table, bowed deeply to her boss, and left the room just as quietly as she had entered.
"That was my assistant, Camille," he said, sliding one of the documents toward Kaija. "Here is my full offer.
"I will settle the S$200,000 upfront as a down payment, and as a way to ensure your focus remains entirely on your new role here under KE.
"Before you make your official appearance to the public, you will be required to go through some initial training. The training will equip you with the necessary skills to be an artist under us, and to give you a sense of what the industry is like.
"But those are merely secondary additions. The most important requirement for each of our artists is their natural vocal talent, which you already possess.
"Because of that, I am confident it won't take long before you debut. I will also do my part to ensure the training process is as painless as possible for you."
Kaija eyed the document on the table with weary eyes.
After all the paperwork she had been forced to read lately, another thick stack only made her want to scream.
For the next thirty minutes or so, she went through every line of the stack, while Charles finally allowed himself some time to relax, pouring a cup of tea and sipping it as if he were enjoying cocktails on a beach.
According to the contract, she would have to stay on campus during training.
There were dorms for both trainees and signed artists. Meals and living expenses would be covered.
She would also receive a small monthly stipend of—
"Ten thousand freaking S dollars?" she gasped, sleepy eyes flying wide at the number. "Erm, Mr. Kosonen, are you sure your assistant didn't type an extra zero by mistake? That's like… double my airline salary."
"There is no mistake," Charles replied flatly. "Here at KE, we support our artists with what they deserve."
Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned the page.
So this was what it meant to be a talent at KE. Maybe she really should have said yes the first time he asked, instead of putting herself through an entire week of endless, nightmarish overthinking.
She stole a glance at Charles.
He caught her gaze and smirked faintly, as if he could read her thoughts.
"You're done reading?" he asked, setting his cup down.
"Yes," she swallowed, placing the document neatly on the table. "I'll follow your arrangement, Mr. Kosonen. Should I sign it now?"
For a moment, he only stared at her in silence, silver eyes unwavering, as though weighing something carefully.
Then his gaze shifted slightly away, his voice coming out thinner than the steely tone he had used this entire time.
"Before you do, I have one more request."
"A request?" she echoed, lifting an eyebrow.
When his eyes returned to hers, his voice was firm and steady once more. "Would you please sing a song," he asked, "just for me?"
Kaija blinked a few times, unsure she had heard him correctly.
"Sing?" she repeated. "For you? Like… now?"
"If you don't mind," he said, his cheeks turning faintly pink. "Or… we could move somewhere more comfortable, if you prefer."
She blinked again. Was it the lighting, or was the man actually blushing at his own request?
"Which song would you like to hear, then?" she asked. "Any particular genre? Any popular song?"
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly at her agreement. "Anything you choose is fine," he said. "Though I am curious whether you write your own songs."
Kaija's expression tightened a little.
She did write her own songs...
It was just that she had never sung any of them out loud, let alone for a stranger.
But well, the man sitting in front of her probably wouldn't remain a stranger for much longer, considering he was about to become her boss.
"Er… okay," she said, scratching nervously at her jeans. "If you don't like this one, just tell me. I can change to something else."
With a slight incline of his head and a faint smile, Charles leaned back in his chair, looking almost leisurely, as if preparing himself for an auditory treat.
Kaija, however, was far from relaxed.
The moment her lips parted and the lyrics left her mouth, her eyes slipped shut involuntarily, partly from her own shyness, partly from trying to recall words she had written far too long ago.
The shape of your smile haunts me in my sleep,
The touch of your hands lingers on my skin,
The sound of your voice tells me I'm in love,
I close my eyes and wish you were mine.
...
It was a song with a soft, wistful melody about a girl's feelings for a boy she had a crush on.
She'd written it for Niklas when she first knew him. For a version of him that was sweet, earnest, and kind. Not the Niklas she'd broken up with.
The lyrics just flowed out on their own, from her lungs, through her throat, and all the way to the top of her head, though deep inside, she had no longer felt a thing for the young man she was singing for.
When Kaija stopped singing, the room went utterly still.
No sound came from where Charles sat. Not a single reaction.
Curiosity and nervousness surged through her at once, urging her to force her eyes open.
When she did, all her movement stalled.
The silver eyes that had been watching her with a strange intensity all this time were now inches from hers, now calm and gentle like still water.
Her lips parted. "Mr. Koso—"
"Charles," he corrected, voice low like a whisper. "Just Charles."
The parted lips quivered faintly at the softness of his tone.
His fingers no longer rested still in his lap. Instead, they were tracing slowly along the line of her chin, before making their way down the side of her neck, the movement unhurried yet deliberate, as if savoring the softness of her skin along the way.
"Who did you write that song for?" he asked, his fingers brushing lightly over her collarbone. "Was it for your boyfriend?"
"Ex-boyfriend," she corrected quietly. "I broke up with him last week."
The wandering fingers stilled. "What happened?" he asked.
"He's with my best friend," she said, turning her gaze away. There was no need to elaborate further.
"How unfortunate," he murmured.
There was no hint of sincerity in his tone, just an even delivery and an unreadable, calm expression.
As the silence stretched, Kaija began to feel nervous.
"Did you… like the song?" she asked.
The man gave her no immediate answer.
The stormy silver in his eyes trembled instead, lips quivering faintly, before he finally said, "I hated it."
Now, it was Kaija's turn to tremble in her seat.
Uh-oh. Here came bad feelings about the fate of the deal she had been so close to signing.
"I can sing another one for you," she said at last.
"No need," he replied, finally pulling away.
He slid the two contract documents toward her, and placed a pen neatly on top.
"Just sign the contract," he said flatly.
Her gaze snapped up to him, eyes wide with disbelief.
Had she heard him wrong? Wasn't he supposed to revoke the offer?
Before she could process the whole situation, his voice came again. "Camille will show you around," he said softly. "You may go now."
He pressed the button beneath the table once more, and moments later, the severe-looking woman named Camille entered the room.
She bowed to Kaija this time, though her eyes remained keenly fixed on Charles at the head of the table.
"Please sign both copies of the contract," she said. "We'll keep one, and you'll keep the other, Ms. Sepala."
Without another word, Kaija grabbed the pen and scrawled her signature across both documents with lightning speed, as if afraid the chestnut-haired man might change his mind at any second.
"I won't take any more of your time, then," Kaija said, standing up. "I believe there's someone quite eager to see you waiting outside."
"So you've met one of my superstars," he replied, his tone edged with annoyance. "Just don't take whatever he says to heart."
"Well… I don't," Kaija said with a small shrug. "See you, then, Charles."
As she turned, Camille's face stiffened noticeably.
The woman quickly composed herself, stepped aside, and gestured toward the door. "This way, Ms. Sepala."
Kaija raised an eyebrow at the woman's brief lapse in composure.
This place was surely filled with strange people, she thought, picking up her copy of the contract.
The two women quickly made their way out of the conference room.