Kiss and Puck Chapter 19
…Crazy?
“Probably.”
Kora turned her head sharply after one sharp glance at him.
She had been trying to focus on the movie again when her phone suddenly vibrated. Startled, she quickly hit the decline button, worried it might disturb the other viewers.
But the caller was none other than Tristan.
Kora shot him a look of pure disbelief.
“Harmful substances… That’s not exactly creative.”
Tristan was smiling as he called, clearly checking what name he was saved under on Kora’s phone.
“What are you doing in a movie theater? You’re disturbing everyone else.”
“I should have put it on silent.”
Kora narrowed her eyes and tapped her own phone screen.
Tristan’s phone in the cup holder flashed almost instantly in response.
Kora glanced at it and read her name as it popped up on his screen.
“…Her?”
She frowned, pretending to be flustered, and continued.
“Why did you save me as a pronoun? Was it that hard to type my actual name?”
“Your negative thinking is really something.”
Kora popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth and watched Tristan reply as if it was nothing. She shook her head.
There could be plenty of women who would be called “her” in his life. Was this just another calculated flirtation?
“Stop talking.”
“Focus on the movie. Aren’t you supposed to be doing your homework? You’re going to have a test later on whether you actually understood it.”
“…”
Kora made a dry face and placed his phone back in the holder. She turned her body back toward the screen.
Tristan, however, kept his gaze fixed on the back of her head.
Harmful substances.
It was the exact word that carried the full weight of her caution toward him, but surprisingly, it didn’t sit badly. Proof that she was still aware of him, after all.
A substance that harms the body, hard to avoid, spreads like poison and dominates the entire system…
“Not bad.”
Tristan pulled his eyes away from her and casually grabbed more popcorn. It crunched between his teeth.
***
The movie’s ending wasn’t great. At least, not according to Kora.
The female lead finally abandoned her dreams of becoming an actress and took a desk job at the film company.
She then watched the actors from a distance on set, telling herself she was doing the same meaningful work by helping create good movies.
Exiting the theater feeling empty, Kora muttered, “The movie was way too realistic.”
Tristan answered without missing a beat, “Not everyone can live like the main characters in a movie. I thought this one was fresh.”
Yeah. Maybe it was a refreshing change for someone like him, who always played the lead.
While he was driving her home, she had worried he might pull some stunt in the car, but Tristan kept things surprisingly light.
Whenever she kept tugging at the hem of her uniform skirt, he would simply say “Put it on” and slip his hoodie off her shoulders.
The oversized hoodie reached all the way to her knees, and the fabric carried a faint, pleasant scent of fabric softener.
“What product do you use that smells this good…? I’m jealous…”
She was the one asking questions, he the one answering.
Even the man who had patiently guided their conversation started fidgeting when her responses grew stiff and short.
Actually, Kora’s mind was in complete chaos over the movie’s ending.
Did the protagonist really feel satisfied with her life after giving up her dreams? What exactly was the point of that final close-up on her face? Would everything have turned out differently if she had gone to one more audition?
Then again, what message was the director even trying to send? Was an ordinary life meaningful? But he had won an Oscar for his screenplay after all.
Kora turned her head and gazed out the window, lost in thought.
The rain had started outside, tapping lightly against the glass.
Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of an old sign in the distance.
Chatsworth Community Ice Rink
Located on the edge of campus, the rundown public rink was used by figure skaters and locals who had to split their practice time.
The peeling paint on the walls, the tape holding together the broken windows—it looked like nothing compared to the state-of-the-art Lockwood Arena, built with astronomical budgets.
According to what Kora had heard, the only figure skating club on campus practiced here.
“Just wondering, that’s all.”
Unlike hockey, which received full school support and could turn talented players into professionals, figure skating was nothing more than a hobby club clinging to its existence.
Because of that, when Kora had come to Chatsworth University she had completely given up on the sport.
“Figure skating is just too expensive to keep as a hobby.”
Her face felt heavy with melancholy as she looked away.
Meanwhile, Tristan, gripping the steering wheel, glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“What’s eating her so much?”
He let out a quiet sigh and reached for the display to play some music. When his usual hip-hop track started, Kora furrowed her brows.
That wasn’t it.
He scrolled through the playlist and switched to something more chill, soft K-pop. A choice that seemed to consider the girl in the passenger seat. But Kora sighed deeply again.
“This is driving me insane.”
“You’re making it obvious you don’t want to hear it, so I put on music. Why don’t you just pick what you actually like? That’s your job as the passenger.”
Tristan’s words made Kora stick her lip out, fiddle with the touchscreen for a while, and finally select a song.
A sharp electric guitar riff blasted through the speakers.
Tristan’s eyes widened when he saw the title on the screen. It was Seek & Destroy by Metallica.
A song from one of the band’s very first albums, a classic of early-eighties heavy metal. He asked in disbelief.
“Kora, that choice of yours is even crazier. What kind of girl who looks like a ballerina listens to this?”
“…”
“It’s just my personal taste. It clears my head and makes me feel lighter.”
Kora had used heavy metal before competitions, playing it to loosen up her nerves.
Everyone else said classical music calmed them down, but Kora felt her thoughts scatter and anxiety spike when she listened to it.
Instead, the loud guitar riffs and screaming vocals left no room for anything else.
Tristan, who had been quietly listening, spoke with a note of surprise in his voice.
“Your music taste is the opposite of your looks.”
“Why? What did you think I would like?”
“Classical, easy-listening pop, or maybe K-pop.”
Kora gave a small laugh.
“You know K-pop?”
“Of course. I listen to it every day when I work out.”
“…”
“Of course, I was joking.”
She glared at him and he laughed.
“You’re surprisingly innocent.”
“…”
“…”
“Anyway, Metallica, huh? What other bands do you like?”
“Well… I like Iron Maiden. Also Fall Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco.”
“What?”
Every time she revealed another piece of her taste, Tristan looked more and more confused.
The music she liked all seemed to carry some kind of battle-ready energy, like rock songs that made you feel stronger just by listening. Songs that were often blasting in the hockey locker room before games, perfect for charging up the team.
“She’s really something.”