Chapter Text
Sungho was white-knuckled on the steering wheel. He had known what the job would entail, he’d heard the best and worst from every age in the company. He knew how to deal with teenage hormones and unchecked rebellion, he knew how to balance the high demands of the company with the realistic limits of the artist, and above all, he knew how to stay calm and act wisely in the face of unpredictable stress.
But as he looked in his rearview mirror, Felix fast asleep against Chan, the latter who looked far too tanned and gleeful for someone who had just been caught shirtless, eating hotdogs on the beach. His eyes were shining, a dreamy shine sparkling from his very soul, similar to the infinite stars Felix’s eyes had held, as they stared out into the endless horizon, and blushed in humility and pleasure when their manager had captured them. Sungho had a whole speech for them, the manager-hyung uppercut, quick jabs to knock back responsibility into their heads, but something in seeing Chan that relaxed made him falter.
When Minho had called him, a steady but crisp tone informing him that the two Aussies had gone missing, Sungho, along with most of Stray Kids and management involved, had immediately and collectively lost their minds. They had assumed the absolute worst, with preparations for ransom letters and photographs of bruised faces. They hadn’t expected the boys spending their vacation being on… vacation.
“Hyung?” Chan spoke up suddenly, noticing as their route strayed from their dorms, “Where… are we going?”
Even as he asked it, Sungho noted the carefreeness of it all, as though Chan were completely unperturbed by the fact that even after spending about twenty hours out and about, he was still kept from the comfort of his own bed in the dorms. Sungho wondered absently, as he worked out motives and justification for the boy’s behavior in his head, if Chan even considered the dorms his home, or just a prison.
“The company, we’re going to the company,” Sungho scratched his head, “Actually, wake Yongbok up, we have to run through your story one more time before I sit before a board of angry executives.”
With a teasing laugh, Chan gently moved Felix off his shoulder, coaxing him awake not much differently than a kind mother would to a young child. In a true Felix manner, he opened one eye to look around, before scrunching his face, stretching his arms above his head as he let out a slow yawn. His hair was matted, windblown, but his face glowing, reflecting hours of sunshine.
“Now, from the top?”
“Right,” Chan’s shoulders momentarily stiffened, “Felix went for a walk, but wandered a little too far, so he got lost at the edge of Seoul.”
“Right.”
“So I took the bus and tracked him, but then my phone died.”
“Sure.”
“And the town we were in started having these protests, so we got on the subway, but accidentally took the wrong one, yeah?”
“...okay…”
“Since we were on the subway, we ended up riding it all the way till we found ourselves by the coast. And since we were there, we figured it would be a perfect waste of time if we didn’t visit the beach.”
“Uh Huh?”
“So we spent like an hour on the beach before the sunset, and then decided to stay at a motel, so we could spend the next day at the beach too.”
Sungho’s forehead was pressed to the steering wheel, the car parked in the garage by the company building, “Uh huh, no, I— and you both didn’t answer your phones, because?”
“Oh,” Felix rubbed his eyes blearily, “Chan-hyung’s phone died when he was calling me, and then my phone got wet when Chan threw me into the ocean.”
Chan sputtered, his shoulders relaxing again, “Wait, wait, wait, you asked to be thrown in!”
“Yeah, but I didn’t—“
“Enough, stop,” Sungho dragged a hand across his face, “while you boys were having the time of your lives, Seungmin and Jisung came back to the dorm earlier today and were greatly alarmed to not find either of you, and grew to such a panic when you didn’t respond that they called the rest of the team, Minho running a whole search-and-rescue operation from your kitchen. One of the boys threw around the word ‘kidnapped,’ and now there’s a disciplinary meeting in twenty minutes. Now here’s what we’re not going to do: we’re definitely not giving that story to the board of executives, we’re not going to complain, and we’re not bringing any of you into the meeting, because you’ve already shaved twenty years off my lifespan.”
“Only twenty?” Felix murmured.
Chan’s mouth was pressed in a thin line, “Hyung, should I come—“
“Absolutely not,” Sungho pulled himself out of the car and the trio walked to the elevators, the elevator slowly climbing the floors, time moving slowly, “Because you will be too busy apologizing to your team.”
Before Chan could process what he said, the elevator doors swung open and five very concerned faces crowded them, speaking over each other in such harmonious dissonance, that Chan forgot that he was supposed to feel ashamed before them. Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jeongin took turns scolding them, while Minho and Seungmin stood in the back, giving tired but relieved smiles.
“Do you know how dangerous—?
“—and I feel like an old person who—“
“This is why you should always—“
“Sorry, sorry…,” Chan rubbed his neck, “Although, in our defense, we did end up there just--”
“On mistake. It was an accident,” Felix shuffled his feet, as though the shame of it all finally settled on him like a wet blanket, until Hyunjin wrapped his arms around his shoulders and patted his head as though he were a lost pet that they’d found.
“Uh huh, accident,” Seungmin repeated sarcastically, “That you couldn’t let us know about?”
Changbin was red in the face, “Hyung, we thought you were both kidnapped!”
“Jisung thought you were both kidnapped,” Jeongin clarified, although he didn’t look any less distressed by the situation, eyes puffy and red as though he had been crying, and by the way Seungmin was reassuringly rubbing his back, it seemed highly likely it was the case, “We were really worried, hyung.”
“Right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Our phones both-- It doesn’t matter, I’m sorry, we’re sorry,” Chan gave them a look that didn’t convince them that he wasn’t really sorry, even though he was probably the most aware of what sort of anxiety could be created when one o the members disappeared off the map for even a minute.
He subconsciously started doing a headcount, “Where’s Hannie?”
“He was out with my dad, headed to the beach where I’d figured you’d be in his hometown,” Minho raised his eyebrows, as though it were the most obvious thing, and the two Aussies hadn’t sent him into panic just hours before.
Chan bowed his head cheekily, “Ah, of course, that’s— smart, we were actually… Listen, Minho-ah, I—“
“You idiots!”
On cue, Jisung screeched, running from the elevator to barrel into Felix, and then swat at Chan annoyingly, Minho’s father red-faced and out of breath behind him.
“So you were in Incheon?” Jisung squinted at Felix, “I told you I was coming back, didn’t I? Did you miss me so much that you couldn’t even—“
“We didn’t mean to go to Incheon,” Felix feebly tried explaining, “We were just—“
As Felix retold the whole story again, Chan bowed deeply to Minho’s father, who had snuck behind his son to ruffle his hair dotingly.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” he stuttered pathetically, “I didn’t mean to worry everyone, I— you too, Minho, I’m sorry for taking you from your family. You should— I mean, I— you don’t have to worry about us, you should go spend time with your family today and tomorrow.”
Minho stared at him blankly, and then shrugged, “Okay, bye,” and then before his father could say anything, made for the staircase doors, pushing them out and letting the cold air sting his face.
“It was no problem at all,” Minho’s father stuttered, inching towards the door, “Glad to see you’re both safe is all— we were worried about you. Um, do you— would you like to come over? For the next few days? You and Felix?”
Chan nearly jumped at the offer, but then he saw his kids surrounding Felix, a glowing smile across the freckled face, and he looked back at the staircase, the door shut from where Minho had disappeared. He’d caused enough trouble.
“Thank you, sir, but um,” Chan stuttered, “Maybe next time. I look forward to meeting Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, but I think I should stay home for the next few days.”
“Ah, hm,” Minho’s father looked hesitant, as though he wasn’t inclined to take the answer so easily, but then remembered his son currently running down the staircase, “Until next time then, Chan-ssi.”
“Yes, thank you sir,” Chan bowed, and then he was gone, and Chan wondered whether he should have apologized more profusely. Minho talked usually and often about how he wanted to go home, how much he missed his family and cats, and how much he looked forward to visiting them all during their next break. Chan had even overheard the conversation he’d had with his parents, over how excited they were to hear about their son coming home, and their plans to take him to Minho’s grandparents’ place. Guilt ate up at his insides, and he almost forgot it was technically Felix’s fault they had been out for so long… Well, it was his that they decided to visit the beach and stay at a hotel but still. Minho, Seungmin, Jisung, none of the boys deserved the sort of anxiety their little fun trip had created.
“Wait, hold on a second,” Felix rubbed his forehead in confusion, “Innie drove all the way from Busan?! And-and-and Seungmin-ah, why were you--? Why did you come back to the dorms so early?”
Jeongin answered first, “No- ah, well, my brother ended up being busy at an internship, and my parents were working anyway. Seungmin said he had a surprise planned if I wanted to join, so I took a flight… by the time I landed an hour later, everyone was going crazy on the groupchat.”
A surprise? Everyone turned to Seungmin expectedly, suddenly curious at what brought the younger boy home, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jisung acting hurt that they weren’t looped in on the surprise.
“Oh, ah, it’s nothing that special,” Seungmin laughed nervously, “My sister was busy too since she decided to go out with her boyfriend over the holiday, and she gave me this coupon for a laser tag place… I figured-- well, ‘Lix has told me he used to go out with his friends back in Australia, and I kinda felt bad for leaving him and Chan-hyung at the dorms so… so I came home.”
“Oh,” Changbin pinched Seungmin’s cheek, “Cute~!”
“We could go now!” Hyunjin got excited, “None of us are going home now anyway, and there are an even number of-- Wait, where’s Lee Know-hyung?”
“He went home,” Chan said softly, but it was lost in the sudden excitement.
“Yeah that’d be fun!”
“We gotta redeem this vacation anyway, so--”
“--Wait, it’s closed.”
Hyunjin groaned and slung himself over Innie, “ What?!”
“It’s closed,” Seungmin repeated, “It was open until three in the afternoon today, and now it’s… sorry.”
“No, no,” Chan patted Seungmin on the back, “If anything it’s our fault. The idea is very touching.”
Jisung’s face suddenly lit up, “Hey, we could do it here!”
Everyone looked at Jisung like he was crazy, but the younger boy started rambling through his idea, “No, wait, hear me out, okay? The building is practically empty because of the holiday, right? We have nerf guns in storage and in Chan-hyung’s secret locker that he stole--”
“-- hey!”
“Sorry, but seriously,” he waved his hands like it was the best idea ever, “We can keep track of who get who out by texting, or each person can track how many times they hit someone, and then whichever team has the most hits by the end wins and has to-- I don’t know… buy coffees for the other team or something!”
“That’s… a pretty good idea,” Seungmin looked excited, jumping excitedly, “We should decide teams right now, and then split up to try and find guns. Who’ll decide--?”
“Team captains!” Hyunjin pushed Felix to one side and Chan to another, “Also, Channie-hyung’s team has to be the smaller one, because he would definitely annihilate us all on his own regardless so--”
“Hey, hey, hey!”
Their laughter loudly filtered down the hall, through the doors, and into the staircase.
Minho slowed down as he reached the bottom of the steps, the echoing of his father’s footsteps reverberating down the stairwell and his own heart racing as though he had just finished dancing District 9 on double speed. It wasn’t the activity itself; he could run up and down the staircase a hundred times a day and not become weary, his body built and conditioned for the activity. No, it was his mind, furiously running through a million thoughts, flitting from one idea to another, and then each idea arguing amongst himself, before finally coming to a conclusion by the time he’d stopped to wait for his father.
The older man’s footsteps were a flurry of quick sounds, before they stopped at the landing before the bottom, a half-floor above Minho, where he curiously cocked his head to the side.
“You know,” he slowly moved down the last flight, “I half-expected you to be at the car, or even start walking home with the fervor you left with.”
“Hm,” Minho ignored him as he pushed the door out to the parking garage, “Well, I didn’t.”
They walked in silence, a gentle breeze rifling through Minho’s sweaty bangs, lifting the heat and strain off his body. It pulled him to his grandmother’s garden, dirt on his hand, and an anxiety in his mind for the two brothers he had left behind in the dorms. Hadn’t he wanted them to enjoy their vacation? Hadn’t they done just that?
“You’re not really upset at them,” Minho’s father unlocked the car, but leaned an arm on the door, looking at Minho playfully, “Right?”
“Of course not,” Minho stared out, “I’m glad they had a good time… and I’m glad their phones died too. Bang Chan would have worried about us to hell and back if he’d seen all our messages… No, I’m very happy.”
“Hm.”
The two slipped into the car, but his father’s hand stopped short from turning the key fully, “Minho-ah… Are you sure you want to go home?”
Minho frowned and turned to his father, “Your mother and I would love to have you at home, and the cats would enjoy you as much as you enjoy them, but… are you sure you should be going home?”
His voice was caught in his throat, because in all honesty, he was only going home because he felt bad for his parents. Chan and Felix could guilt him, and put him under unimaginable stress as much as they liked, and Minho would never truly stay angry at them, but they had unintentionally stolen this time from his family. Minho could do that to his parents and cats-- he’d done it on many occasions-- but there was something that he felt like he needed to redeem.
“Minho,” his father pressed lightly, “This is your home as much as our home is. You’ll always have our place to come to, hm? We don’t doubt your love based on how much time you spend with us but… “
The rest was left unsaid, and finished only when it strengthened the resolve in Minho’s mind. He didn’t have his parents forever, it was a haunting thought that made him relish his vacation time, but there was something different, fast-paced and fleeting about his team, the little family Chan had woven together.
“Mm, no, I don’t think I can go home,” Minho said airily, “Do you think you could drop me at the dorm? I have to get something…”
~
“This has to be one of the top ten, no, maybe top three stupidest things we’ve ever done,” Seungmin monotoned as they walked the ninth floor, weaving through offices and cubicles, fully aware that only two hallways done, a meeting discussing their behavior was taking place.
Chan bit his tongue as he turned on the light of another office, glancing around before turning it off again, “Listen Seungmin-ah, I know that one of the directors happened to get a rare, really nice nerf gun from his son for Christmas, and displays it in his office. It shoots like, ten bullets at a time, and stores a ton at a time. Who knows, he might also have a supply of ammo or something. And then we can get the one in my locker.”
“See, Seungminnie,” Hyunjin turned to the younger boy excitedly, “I told you we were on the best team.”
“Right,” Seungmin rolled his eyes, “Is this gun next to your signed bottle of gin?”
“Um,” Chan’s ears turned red, and Hyunjin started slapping him playfully as their leader started struggling with his words, “Yea- um- I mean, maybe?”
“Wah, seriously though,” Hyunjin’s eyes were wide, “Our Bang Chan-hyung getting recognized by an international celebrity?”
“I know, right?! Ryan freakin' Reynolds, bro!” Chan screeched, suddenly collapsed, unable to function properly for a moment at the thought, Hyunjin relentlessly teasing him for it, before they heard voices down the hall, and went back to searching for the director’s office.
Seungmin let out a drawn out sigh, because while Chan’s gameplans were certainly higher IQ than anything the rest of them could come up with, they also tended to be unnecessarily long-winded and complicated. Besides, it wasn’t like their team needed that sort of advantage to win-- between Chan’s skill, Hyunjin’s archery aim, and Seungmin’s baseball skill, they had a strong feeling they were going to win, pushing aside that they were three largest targets as the tallest members.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Hyunjin got excited, “Hyung, isn’t PD-nim’s office here?”
“Park Jinyoung PD-nim? JYP’s office?” Chan raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, yeah… why?”
Hyunjin was already taking off down the corridor until he found the name plate of their founder in gold next to a doorway, and without even knocking, pushed open the door. The desk was neatly set, light coming in through the shades, posters of all the company groups lining the walls. They pointedly ignored the number of Twice posters that were hung in comparison to the other groups. Hyunjin quickly grabbed a marker out of the cup messily decorated by his toddler, passing markers to Chan and Seungmin.
“We should leave a mark!” Hyunjin was giddy with excitement, “Something funny, witty!”
“Do you enjoy getting in trouble?” Seungmin crossed his arms, looking to Chan as though he expected their leader to agree with him, but to his genuine surprise, found Chan smiling at the thought, twirling the marker in his hand.
“Yeah, yeah, okay… grab some sticky notes, we’ll leave some notes around.”
Seungmin let out a groan, looking over his shoulder, but forty-two sticky notes and fifty stick page flags later, he found himself a little lighter. They had created dresses and flowers for different artists, and little sarcastically worded praises for their beloved PD-nim. Hyunjin took his revenge for his unjustly burdensome hiatus, and Chan was giggling like a child, clearly mad with power.
It somehow felt perfect.
Down in the basement, Changbin and Jisung looked up, flashlights shone on various boxes as they watched Jeongin and Felix scale the shelves to the top, wondering how much Chan would kill them if the two dongsaengs turned up with broken bones.
“We could tell him that the shelf fell on them,” Jisung offered nervously, flinching every time Innie’s foot slipped, “They were just walking past and, boom, the shelf decided to have a seizure and crush them, heh.”
Humor was a great destressor, and one the young rapper had come to heavily rely on since joining the team.
Changbin did no such thing, “Hey-hey-hey watch your foot, it’s going to— look out for that box, it’s unsteady!”
The nagging was sweet at first, but by the fourth shelf of the fifth storage rack, Felix peered over the top and gave a sarcastic smile, “Hyung. Why don’t you make sure no one from security or management is going to catch us anytime soon, okay?”
Jeongin looked back and forth between Felix and Changbin, the two sarcastically smiling at each other. He hated that he was still the most mature between them, and sighing, jumped down.
“I’ll spot for ‘Lix-hyung,” he took Jisung’s phone for the flashlight, “You can check the boxes in the closet and keep a lookout for security.”
Jisung opened his mouth to protest, but was pulled away roughly by Changbin, who mumbled they were wasting time anyway. It was only when they found an old nerf gun in the third box, paint peeling off the sides, did he remember that this was just a silly game they were playing, and he leaned back against the smooth concrete walls.
“Hyung,” Jisung ran his fingers over the patterns of the gun, “I’m glad… I’m glad we’re all here.”
“Hm?” Changbin frowned as he pulled out water guns from a box, “What at the company? All of us being here? Why, was home so terrible?”
“N-no,” Jisung stuttered, “I mean, it doesn’t really feel like home… The dorms feel more like home, and you all are… you know?”
“Mm, Yeah,” Changbin hummed, although he truly valued his home and family more than Jisung seemed to, but there was an idea in that statement that rang true for all of them, “It’s nice to enjoy each other, and not just for work, yeah? Comforting.”
Jisung was quiet, and Changbin turned to see the young rapper wearing a dark expression, “What? What is it?”
“You know,” Jisung took a sharp breath, staring a hole into the floor, “No matter how I think about it, every single bad thing that’s happened to us, I can only blame management for it.”
His first reaction was to protest, to insist that this wasn’t true, but the more Changbin thought about it, it seemed that every hell they had been through, was only stoked to a feverish inferno by their company. Improper responses for “scandals,” answers that neither satisfied the fans or defended the group. Overreacting for silly things like enjoying their vacation time, and underreacting for mental health breakdowns. Changbin was quick to defend his company, because he knew their standards in comparison to many of their competitors, but a nicer hell was still hell. There was much to be grateful for, but in the same breath, there was much that could stand to be corrected. Just because it worked, didn’t make it commendable.
“They try,” Changbin flinched, and then went back to searching the boxes, “Kinda… I suppose there are many variables to please so… it’s not great, but they try.”
“Heh,” Jisung stood up slowly, loading the toy gun, “You know how people joke about Chan becoming the next CEO?”
Changbin tossed a pack of foam bullets he found at the bottom of a box with a smirk, “Yeah? If he doesn’t run away to someone else before then? It’ll definitely happen. Yeah, I think I heard somewhere that Park Jinyoung PD-nim wrote Chan into his will.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, 2racha! Get over here!”
The two boys took what they had and made for the larger storage room, where Innie was waving his arms wildly. They turned the corner and--
“Wah,” Jisung put a hand over his mouth, “Seriously… we could win with that!”
“Right?!” Felix slid down and the four of them huddled together, “So here’s the plan… “
They whispered and laughed amongst themselves, feeling like little children let loose in a playground. After much deliberating, Changbin and Innie took off up the staircase, Jisung and Felix left behind in the basement storage room, cackling like idiots.
Two floors up, Chan had Hyunjin and Seungmin crouched by the door that led to the staircase, pulling out a trash can from the wall for additional cover. Seungmin and Hyunjin each had modestly sized nerf guns, but Chan held the monster, a bag slung around his shoulder carrying extra bullets.
“They’ll have to come up this way, because they won’t use the elevator,” he explained.
“Right,” Hyunjin frowned, “Why?”
“Because it’s obvious, and too easy to corner and kill. And they’ll probably check every floor, so that they aren’t caught by surprise. And they’ll be smart enough to know that we’re staying away from the upper floors, where the meeting is taking place, yeah?’
Seungmin stared at Chan, an amused smile on his face, and nodded, although he wasn’t entirely sure this was as brilliant a plan as Chan seemed to think it was. Until, sure enough, not five minutes later, they heard thundering footsteps coming up, and the subdued whispers of Changbin, who could not whisper for the life of him, and Innie, who was profusely scolding his hyung for being so loud. As soon as they opened the door--
“Ack, what?!”
Seungmin and Hyunjin pressed on either side, yelling loudly and forcing the two boys into retreat.
“That was six!” Hyunjin cried as they raced after the two of them, Chan trailing cautiously from behind, “That was six!”
Innie turned around and shot at Hyunjin, who squealed and flailed pathetically, “And that was two, hyung!”
Chan’s team pressed on pushing Changbin and Innie back into the basement, and it wasn’t until they reached the storage room that Seungmin stopped them.
“Wait, where are Hannie and ‘Lix?”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened, “I’m going to go back upstairs. I’ll collect the bullets we dropped and be waiting around the second floor, unless I find them.”
So they split up, Chan and Seungmin slowly creeping into the shadowed and ill-lit storage room. Perhaps it was slightly suspicious, the way Innie seemed to wait for them to find him, before taking off down the hall behind another row of shelves, and Seungmin couldn’t help but feel as though they were being baited.
“Hyung?” he whispered, “Do you think they’re--”
“ Ah!”
Nerf bullets rained down on them, Jisung and Felix standing on a large set piece that resembled a crude version of a tank, and Chan blindly shot, before pulling Seungmin to the side, “What the--? Did you know we had that? Does that even--? What--?”
Jisung laughed loudly, “That’s fifteen hits on you hyung!”
“Yah, Han-ah!” Chan called back, “You keeping count of how many times I hit you?”
Seungmin dashed after Changbin, who had tried to sneak around to force them out of their hiding spot, shooting relentlessly. Chan made quick work of picking up the bullets around him, before making for the door, calling for Seungmin as Innie and Felix raced after him, hot on his trail. As he made it up the first landing, he turned around and fired a shot, all ten of the bullets hitting the two boys.
“Ack, what?!” Felix looked at the foam bullet around him, “What was that?!”
Chan raced to the second-floor, where Hyunjin stood stunned for a whole two seconds, before rushing to defend his teammate. They started splitting apart from each other, Hyunjin and Innie engaged in a fierce game of how to kindly but brutally decimate one another with words in a standoff, while Chan and Felix ran, up the stairs, around the halls, backtracking and cornering one another, only to push back and turn the tables. Changbin and Seungmin were similar, up until Changbin ran out of ammunition, which Seungmin had been carefully collecting and was loath to shoot and hand any over, and the older began negotiating with the younger.
“Five seconds,” he tried, “Five second to run, and then you can have your fun.”
“Mmm, how about, no,” Seungmin smiled sweetly.
Jisung was lost. He heard the screaming between Chan and Felix, and decided he lacked any athleticism to engage with those two, so instead carefully made his way up the staircase, ears strained for any sound of the other members. A door opened below him, and he slowly tiptoed down, neck craned to catch any glimpses of who it might be. At a flash of orange, Jisung whirled to the landing above the strange, and shot for the chest, triumphantly hitting--
“Oh!”
Minho stared at the foam bullet now lying at his feet, and then up at a frozen Jisung, “Well, Hannie,” he smiled, balancing a bag in one hand and stooping down to pick up the foam piece with the other, “I’m sure you have a fantastic explanation for this.”
Hyunjin and Jeongin sat in the foyer, guns pointed at each other, but eyes trained on their phones, where the groupchat had blown up with how many hits each team had scored on the other. Hyunjin’s guns dropped as Seungmin entered a whopping twenty-six on Changbin, only for Jeongin to tirade him with a flurry of foam.
“Hey!”
The elevator door opened somewhere to the side of them, and Seungmin walked in a surrendered Changbin, who had given his gun to Seungmin and held his hands up in the air in defeat. At the sight, Seungmin sat Changbin down with one hand and pointed at Innie with the other, the maknae surrendering at being clearly outnumbered. Flying down the hall, Chan was running backwards, a triumphant Felix shooting at him, until he noticed his teammates, and instead started taking off back from where he came.
“Wow,” Chan looked at Innie and Changbin, “We got half their team? Can we call our win? What’s the score?”
“Seventy-three to forty-one, in Team Bang Chan’s favor,” a voice called from above, everyone turning to see Minho leaning on the runway above the foyer, Jisung at his side, “That is, if you trust the group chat system.”
“Ah, yes,” Chan smiled as the two walked down, curious at the bag Minho hauled back with him, “Um, I would say we do, but it is in our favor… does the other team have anything to say?”
“Seungminnie cheated!” Changbin yelled, only for Seungmin to shoot him in the head.
“I’d hand over this one,” Minho guestered to Jisung, “But I’m not sure if I’m part of the Bang Chan Marriage Club or--”
“Has nothing to do with it!” Changbin protested, and Innie laughed as he watched his teammate and hyung explain their dirty plays, only for Seungmin and Jisung to interject and counter that he just thought it was dirty because Chan was too smart for him, which even Changbin couldn’t resist.
“Did we lose?” blonde hair peered from the walkway above, Felix’s eyes and forehead looking at the group sadly.
“Yes, if you’re with these idiots,” Minho guestered broadly at Changbin, Innie, and Jisung, ignoring their protests, “Now come and eat, both winners and losers need to eat, hm?”
Everyone threw aside the toys, and cleared a table in the foyer, mouths watering as the smells came from each of the bags. Felix bounded down the steps and clung to Minho like a small child whose parent had come home after a long trip, and Minho in turn rubbed Felix as though he were one of his cats. There was an impressive spread before them.
“These are from my grandma, I made this, and,” Minho bit his lip and looked down at Felix, “I don’t know if this qualifies as fried rice, but this is… whatever good-smelling thing Yongbok made.”
“No, wait, hang on,” Felix started explaining as they all sat around the coffee table, spread on the floor of the foyer, the emptiness and stark business aura of the building fading away. The conversation drifted to what Chan’s team had done to their PD-nim’s office, and the team quickly decided that they all deserved to add their own bit of mess to their work. Chan absently realized they had to clean up the building after this, and that someone had to get someone coffee, but instead of thinking about it too much, he let the laughs of the other kids, and indignant protests of Changbin and Jisung distract him from all that had to be done.
There was tomorrow, and better yet, the day after, to worry about those things. Now, all he had to worry about was right in front of him
~
“I’m sorry, I don’t think you understand.”
Sungho sat back as the other manager, Donghyun, took control of the situation. Everyone was angry, frustrated, and tired. Sunho had meekly tried to explain the situation between the security team, other managers, and directors that had gathered. He hadn’t expected it to become such a dramatic affair. Apparently Park Jinyoung PD-nim himself had almost been called, until Donghyun-hyung had convinced them that the situation was not nearly as disastrous as they had made it out to be.
“They were given this time to take a break, and spent their vacation doing just that,” Donghyun insisted, “Disciplinary action against them is neither appropriate nor conducive to the environment we as a company try to create for the artists.”
It was eloquent, much nicer sounding than what Sungho had stuttered out, but the board around them didn’t look so convinced.
“Donghyun-ssi,” one of the directors rubbed her forehead, “We’re all a little on edge, and quite frankly, would prefer to be spending this time with our families, so if we could just--”
“And what do you think Chan and Felix wanted?” Sungho shot back, “Sirs and Madams, they went to the beach. Not a club, not a bar, not a friend’s home, a beach. These boys have been away from home for over a year, and were left at the dorms alone , one of them burdened with work during his first day of vacation.”
“If this company cares about it’s artists,” Donghyun continued, “It should have looked to see how we could have sent these boys home, or made sure that they weren’t suffering during their break. Now unless this company wants to deal with mental health repercussions, complaints from families and fans, and their artists turning against them further, I suggest we drop this useless debate and all just go home. Sunho and I will remain with the boys to make sure they no longer inconvenience you.”
Donghyun got up, and Sungho did as well, “I think this company forgets, that while we place incredible responsibility and respect on their shoulders, these boys are kids. If you are unhappy with how they act, it reflects on how you led them. If you disapprove of them, you did something wrong.”
The room was silent as the two men got up, everyone shocked into frigid silence. Donghyun closed the door behind them, and the two walked approximately five paces before letting out heavy breaths they didn’t realize they were holding, and leaving heavily against the walls.
“Worst experience of my life,” Sungho balled his fists into his eye-sockets, “If I didn’t love Chan, I’d make him--”
“Heh, easy there,” Donghyun leaned his head back and let out another sigh, “But seriously. Channie better--”
“Y-yeah, hyung?”
The two turned to see the group of boys standing cheekily, bright nerf guns and plastic bags held limply at their side as they quietly creeped out of an office. Sungho narrowed his eyes.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Um,” Hyunjin smiled, looking into the office, and then smiling, “Nothing you need to worry about hyung!”
Chan bit his lip, and avoided the gaze of the two managers, “Um, we’re just, just…”
“--Being kids,” Donghyun finished, winking at Sungho, “Now let’s see the damage that--”
He paused as he saw the golden name plate before the office, the name Park Jinyoung engraved into it. He turned slowly to Chan, mouth hung wide open as the boy choked on a laugh.
“No way,” he muttered, entering an office colored in neon, “ No. Way.”
Sungho started laughing with the rest of the boys as he entered behind, an arm around Donghyun-hyung.
“Remember hyung,” he smiled cheekily, “They’re just kids.”