The moment the audition room door closed behind him, Noah realized his steps were unsteady. He avoided the staff's eyes and hurried into the restroom at the end of the hallway.
He pushed the door open. Empty.
Noah walked to the sink.
The face in the mirror was flushed an unnatural red, the color spreading from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck.
Noah stared at his reflection, fingertips unconsciously touching his lips. Asher's warmth still lingered there, like smoldering embers. No, not just warmth. There was also that pressure, the instant his tongue had tried to pry his lips apart.
He even remembered the breath clearly.
Cold woody cologne mixed with faint tobacco, infiltrating his senses when their breaths tangled together.
Noah closed his eyes. His heart raced like it might burst from his chest.
He'd thought Asher would fake it.
The director said they could fake it. Most actors chose to during auditions.
But Asher hadn't.
He'd actually kissed him.
Noah took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
It was just acting.
Asher had simply gotten too immersed in the scene.
That's what he told himself.
But his body's reaction couldn't lie. Burning cheeks, erratic heartbeat. Noah wasn't sure if this restlessness came from the performance or from Asher himself.
He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face.
The icy shock against his skin brought a bit of clarity.
Noah washed his face again. Water droplets ran down his jaw and splattered onto the white porcelain sink, creating tiny ripples. He looked up at the mirror.
The redness had faded somewhat, but his ears were still pink.
His phone suddenly buzzed.
Noah pulled it out. A message from his manager lit up the screen.
[Almost downstairs. Come down.]
He stared at the screen for a few seconds before replying with a simple "okay."
Noah grabbed a paper towel to dry his face, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.
He headed toward the elevator. Passing the audition room, he instinctively glanced over.
The door was shut tight, muffled voices filtering through.
Noah looked away and pressed the elevator button.
The doors opened. He stepped in and pressed the button for the first floor.
The elevator stopped on the ground floor.
Noah walked through the lobby, pushed through the glass doors, and spotted his manager's black sedan already waiting outside.
He walked over, pulled the door open, and slid in.
"What took so long?" His manager turned to look at him, eyes scanning his face. "Why's your face so red? Nervous enough to puke?"
Noah fastened his seatbelt, voice calm. "Stopped by the restroom."
"Tch, thought something happened to you." His manager laughed, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. "But I guess it's normal. First time auditioning for a project this big anyone would be nervous."
Noah said nothing, just watched the passing scenery.
The car merged onto the main road. His manager turned on the stereo, playing some upbeat jazz.
After a while, his manager suddenly spoke. "By the way, who's the top? They've kept it under wraps this whole time. Don't tell me it's some big star?"
Noah paused.
"It's Asher."
His manager slammed on the brakes.
The car behind them honked. His manager quickly pulled over to the side.
"You said who?!" He whipped around, eyes wide.
"Asher." Noah repeated.
His manager stared for several seconds before cursing. "Holy shit... no wonder they kept it so secret. Asher that's a top-tier actor. He's won a Golden actor Award."
He stared at Noah, expression torn between excitement and concern. "You did a scene with him? How was it?"
Noah gazed out the window. "Fine."
"Just fine?" His manager raised an eyebrow. "You did a scene with Asher. Nothing else to say?"
Noah was silent for a few seconds, that kiss flashing through his mind again.
"He was very professional."
"Professional?" His manager studied him for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "Alright, with your personality, Asher could probably strip naked in front of you and you'd keep a straight face."
Noah didn't respond.
His manager resumed driving.
"But seriously, what was the director's reaction? Did Asher say anything?"
Noah recalled the director's words "the emotion was there," "solid chemistry."
"The director said it was good."
"That's something, then." His manager relaxed a bit.
He paused, tone turning tentative. "Were there... intimate scenes?"
Noah's body stiffened slightly.
"Yes."
"Did you fake it?"
Noah watched the rapidly retreating streetscape outside the window, silent for a few seconds.
"No."
His manager shot him a shocked look. "You actually did it? Asher actually went through with it?"
Noah nodded.
"Holy crap..." His manager clicked his tongue. "An actor of Asher's caliber actually doing it for real during an audition. That's seriously dedicated. But it also shows he really values this role."
He glanced at Noah, tone tinged with gossip. "What kind of scene was it? A kiss?"
"Yeah."
His manager was quiet for a moment, seemingly processing this information, then laughed. "Well, you're pretty impressive getting kissed by Asher and staying this composed."
Noah turned to look out the window, saying nothing.
Composed?
He wasn't composed at all.
The car pulled up outside Noah's building.
"Alright, go get some rest." His manager patted his shoulder. "I'll notify you the second I hear anything."
Noah unbuckled his seatbelt. "Okay."
He got out, went upstairs, and pulled out his keys to unlock the door.
The apartment was quiet, curtains drawn, light dim. Noah tossed his bag on the couch and walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of water.
He took a sip. His throat still felt tight.
Setting down the glass, he walked to the couch and lay down.
A hairline crack ran across the ceiling, extending from the light fixture to the corner.
Noah stared at that crack, but his mind was elsewhere.
Tomorrow might bring results.
If he actually got the part...
---
Meanwhile.
Asher parked outside Sarah's building and killed the engine.
Sarah unbuckled her seatbelt but didn't immediately get out. She turned to look at Asher. He was staring at the steering wheel, lost in thought.
"Asher."
Asher snapped back. "Mm?"
"Today... thanks for driving me."
Asher looked at her. "Of course."
Sarah smiled, wanting to say something but hesitating. She pushed the car door open. "I'll head up then. Drive safe."
"Mm."
The door closed.
Sarah stood by the curb, watching the car pull away, brow slightly furrowed.
Something was off about her brother today.
---
Asher drove away, the journey quiet.
He stared at the road ahead, but his mind was elsewhere.
The way Noah looked when pulled into his arms.
Stiff, flustered, breath trembling.
And his lips
Soft, warm, carrying a hint of nervous tremor.
Asher tightened his grip on the steering wheel, feeling his body's reaction.
That familiar impulse.
He needed to deal with it.
At a red light, Asher stopped the car, pulled out his phone, and made a call.
"It's me. Prepare a room."
He hung up, turned the car around, and headed in another direction.
Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of an unassuming building.
Black marble entrance, glass doors reflecting the amber streetlights. Asher got out, swiped his card, and entered the lobby.
The receptionist recognized him, offering only a nod without questions.
This was a private club catering to clients like Asher who needed discretion. Members only, no strangers, no leaked information. The club provided various services, including s*x.
Asher entered the elevator, swiped his card, and pressed a floor number.
The elevator rose slowly, mirrored walls reflecting his profile.
The doors opened. He walked down a dim corridor lit by warm wall sconces on either side.
He pushed open the door at the end.
Someone was already waiting inside.
A well-built man in a bathrobe, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Seeing Asher enter, he stood up.
"Sir."
Asher removed his jacket and tossed it aside. Who it was didn't matter. He just needed a body, an outlet.
The man approached, reaching up to unbutton Asher's shirt.
Asher grabbed his hand and pushed him onto the bed.
Direct, no foreplay.
This was his usual way.
The man lay obediently on the bed. Asher leaned down to kiss him.
Familiar routine, familiar sensation. The other's lips pressed against his, soft and compliant.
Then, in a single moment
A sense of wrongness sliced through his senses like a blade.
Not this taste. Not this warmth. Even the rhythm of breathing was wrong.
What flashed through Asher's mind was someone else someone stiffly yielding to his kiss.
He froze.
The man noticed his pause and reached up to embrace his waist.
Asher shoved him away abruptly and sat up.
"Get out."
The man blinked. "What?"
"Get out."
Asher's voice was cold.
The man looked at him, hesitated for a few seconds, then stood up, adjusted his bathrobe, and left.
The door closed.
Only Asher remained in the room.
He sat on the edge of the bed, hands braced against the mattress, staring at the floor.
Noah's face still filled his mind.
Asher stood, grabbed his jacket, and walked out.
He drove home.
City lights flickered on one by one, but Asher only mechanically gripped the steering wheel.
He had no understanding of emotions didn't know what attraction, affection, or love felt like.
But he understood desire.
Physical desire. Sexual impulse.
That was the only "feeling" he could clearly perceive.
So he'd always thought he simply needed s*x.
But today...
He couldn't do anything.
Because of Noah.
Asher parked in the garage and shut the door.
He went upstairs, entered his place, removed his suit jacket, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He lit a cigarette.
Smoke curled upward.
Asher stared at the night view outside, eyes dark.
He pulled out his phone and opened the search bar.
He typed: Noah.
A flood of results appeared.
He clicked one a video of Noah's group activities.
The Noah on screen was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen. He stood at the edge of the formation, expression cool. When he danced, his eyes were focused, movements clean and precise, rhythm impeccable.
Asher watched for a while, fixated on the screen.
He clicked through more videos.
Interviews, stage performances, some daily vlogs.
Noah didn't say much on camera, rarely smiled. But when he danced, his eyes would brighten like something ignited inside him.
Asher stared at the screen, gaze growing deeper.
He wanted to touch him.
Wanted to kiss him.
Wanted to f*ck him.
The cigarette burned down to his fingers. Asher came back to himself and stubbed it out.
He picked up his phone and called his assistant.
"Look into Noah for me."
He hung up and stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the night view.
The city's lights spread below like a burning sea.