do

Her mind darted to the memory of standing with Ezra in the open while he showed her his handcuffs. She blanched at the thought of reporters snapping pictures of the two of them. Ezra blinked and then rubbed his hair.

"It's fine. You're staff and you work for me," he shrugged. "I have security covering my ass and the places we went to are frequented zones for celebrities. So they're generally protected from the media." He said, a low glint in his eye.

"Especially your club. It's a blocked zone for paparazzi because of the private membership system." He turned to stare at her, the look in his eyes almost disapproving. "And sometimes even the authorities."

"Are you worried for me?" Amber said quickly with a smirk, but inside, her mind was in a turmoil.

She'd only just started working at the club. The reason she'd gotten the job was that they had been a little desperate for workers for the night shift. She had been lucky enough to overhear an argument between the manager and the boss over the lack of 'usable' staff.

That had been a little odd because a club as elegant and classy as the one she worked at seemed a little too good to be lacking in staff. The place was a private club that was on an invitation-only basis and the cheapest bottle of alcohol was more than US$500.

Initially, Amber had been pretty happy about that fact because the people that she served oozed with an air of elitism. It had given her a stereotypical assumption that they would be much more polite and proper, with higher levels of etiquette.

She later learnt of the ranking system of female staff members. A system that was based upon looks, weight, age and virginity. The virginity part scared her greatly, implying insidious things that her creative mind could easily concoct.

She was sure the place was much seedier than it appeared to be, but she stayed because it paid well. Anyway, she was pretty sure her rank was the lowest in the club which she hoped implied her protection. Her co-workers had made it a point to rub that fact in her 'fat, ugly, foreign face.'

"Yes," Ezra replied, meeting her eyes. His jaws were clenched, the muscles at the sides of his face jutted out a little. He looked as if he had a lot of things to say to her, but he kept quiet.

He didn't say anything after that, giving her a look that told her to follow him, so she did. Her mind was drifting back to her review of their home. The decor was pretty classy, the design mirroring that of Ezra's flat in its minimalism. She spotted a staircase leading up to other rooms at the end of a long hallway and a cosy dining table fitted with seven chairs.

The kitchen itself was a huge area with shiny marble island counters, the latest cooking appliances and a large fitted greenhouse window facing the sink. The cute addition was filled with pots of herbs and vegetables, the soft afternoon light filtering into the area creating beautiful shadows and shapes of the plants on the floor.

However, there was the occasional random decor that alluded to their individual personalities. Like the huge fluffy meerkat soft toy sitting on the couch, the funny sculpture of a squirrel on a toilet bowl and the bright pink cloth printed with Hikaru's face draped over the drying plates in the kitchen. Amber would have laughed if she wasn't so scared. The enormous pumpkin growing through that greenhouse window should have sent her cackling on a usual day. Not today.

She accidentally stepped onto a bag of empty chips on the floor and she reached down to pick the huge empty wrapper. Lays, Beer and Brats Potato Chips.

What?

"God. Casper's such a dirty little shit." Ezra growled, reaching for another bag on the floor. This time, it was unfinished judging from the crackle of chips rustling within the plastic. He glared at the offending thing, making a cluck of annoyance with his tongue.

Amber bit back a laugh as she helped him pick the rest of the scattered trash up. Casper huh? She liked how he was able to recognise which friend was the one to toss random stuff on the floor. Then again, maybe the leader was the only one who dared to go against Ezra's clear dislike for messiness.

She picked up a piece of cloth strewn across the floor and the fabric unfurled to reveal a pair of bright red boxers with zebra prints. What? She bit back a snort at the cute little zebras frolicking across the underwear. Hold on a second... She squinted. On a closer look, the print was really obscene. The zebras had enormous dicks that seemed to swing haphazardly around their legs in a lewd cartoon aesthetic. Amber swore she almost died trying to stop the laughter from escaping her body.

"Give me that," Ezra clipped, snatching it from her hands.

She glanced at him wide-eyed, watching as his cheeks reddened. He looked at her, eyes almost daring her to say something. His pale cheeks were turning beetroot red when he spotted the print. "It's not mine!" He whined.

"I didn't say it was!"

Amber couldn't help the laugh from bubbling out of her throat, and it helped to break the rest of the tension in her shoulders. He was kind of cute, flustered like that. Hissing and fizzing with his embarrassment.

"I'm just feeling second-hand embarrassment for Sieon," Ezra replied with a soft huff, his face turning down into a look of disgust at the print. "This kid..." He murmured softly to himself as he shook his head at the prints.

Sieon? Amber's lips stretched into a wider smile.

"He would cry if he knew," Ezra sighed, his lips pulled into a thin line.

"Why?"

"He said something about being taught since young that his soulmate is the only female person in the world who could touch his underwear aside from himself." He said. "Kid threw up a big fuss when we were on tour and the staff offered to get everything washed." Ezra shrugged, lips curling a little. "That was years back, but he might still feel the same way."

Amber fought back a warm smile, trying her best to look less invested in his words. That was really cute of Sieon. Although he better not count on her to wash his damn underwear. Because hell she might be his soulmate but that didn't mean she was going to act like his mom.

The guy was going to have to wash his own underwear himself like a grown man.

Unless by her touching his underwear he really meant that she was allowed free rein to take it off. Now, that was a different story altogether. She thought about her perverted soulmate and his pouting lips.

Sieon would always greet her with a pout on his lips, his index finger tapping on the plump bow-shaped flesh.

"Kisses please," he would whine and jut out his lips further like a spoiled brat yearning for love.

The action looked innocent and pretty cute. But the minute he captured her lips, the guy would exploit the chance, sending her into a state of heart-pounding bliss. Damn soulmate was overly horny and touch starved. Not that she wasn't the same.

Sieon was also probably annoyed by the fact that she dominated his ass with their first kiss. He had been itching to get her back for it.

"That's really cute," she smiled fondly at the underwear. Her soulmate had a quirky sense of humour.

"I guess? But, that's why he's mostly in charge of laundry duty," Ezra replied with a soft huff. He turned to head down the hallway with the scrunched underwear in his clenched fist.

She followed Ezra quickly. The guy picked up his pace in their enormous house, speed walking past room after room. He stopped at one, pulling the door open to fling the underwear into it before slamming it shut and storming off.

That must be Sieon's room.

Amber gave the door another glance before following Ezra quickly. They finally reached a door with the words 'studio?' printed on it. Ezra opened it quickly, ushering her in and shutting it behind her.

Inside, the studio was not as professional as Deok-Su's and clearly more makeshift in nature. In fact, it looked more like a studying area with study desks, desk lamps and shelves filled with books.

The basic recording equipment looked out of place on the white table that it was placed on. There was a soundproof partition with standing mics that stood out like a sore thumb at the corner of the huge room. The sudden burst of professionalism was out of place in the otherwise homely furnished area.

"This is a study room. We're technically not supposed to do anything work-related at home. But I complained to the company about my random bouts of inspiration so they installed the recording booth," Ezra explained. "We study here too."

Ezra took a seat on the chair facing the partition, turning dials and sliding buttons to prepare for the recording. He motioned for her to enter the booth and she did so, closing the door behind her. The muffled quietness of the room rang in her ears.

It was hot in the booth so she took the chance to slip the jacket off from her shoulders, hanging it on one of the hooks and taking her seat at the microphone.

She glanced at the thing. Her uneducated mind was unable to really understand the reason for the circular nettings and shiny metal structure. But it looked extremely expensive. She spotted a set of earphones propped on a counter and she placed it over her head, adjusting it quickly to fit her ears.

"So...What do I do?" She asked, her voice sounded awkwardly loud in the silence of the room.