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They didn’t eat too many tomatoes back in China. Though, he did actually really like the stir-fried tomato and eggs the small restaurant on that one street corner made, and the tomato-egg noodle soup his grandma made whenever he got sick. Chenle nodded decisively. Tomatoes were definitely very tasty with eggs. He would eat more of them in the future.
“Yah!”
Chenle startled. The aggressively tomato-haired woman in front of him clapped in front of his face, grinning.
“We’re here, Chenle. Hurry, another new trainee is waiting for you.”
Chenle dimly stumbled out into the car park. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the blindingly bright sun. Chenle squinted, and gasped in surprise. The building was massive. It was glass and shiny and loomed above him almost mockingly, as if saying, you think you have a chance here?
The boy swallowed. Maybe he didn’t. How cliché was he, a kid whose voice was just beginning to change, alone in a foreign country, following his dream to be a singer. What did he have that others didn’t? What made him different than--
“Chenle! Honestly, we don’t have all day!” The tomato woman (what was her name again?) called out from the entrance.
Chenle rolled his eyes. He was being melodramatic. Sure it was Korea, but he was there because he had been accepted as a trainee in an entertainment company. He wasn't going to like, starve in the streets. As long as he worked hard he would be fine.
Excitedly he darted over, and followed Tomato into the building.
If Chenle thought the building’s exterior was impressive, the interior was without a doubt the best thing he had ever seen. It was chic and modern, clean edges and light colors, sharp accent furniture in corners around the room, a reception desk at the front and various lifts in a hallway down the far right.
“Chenle, over here.” Tomato beckoned him over. “And close your mouth.”
Chenle sheepishly closed his astonished mouth and walked over to where another kid sat on a rectangular white couch, flipping through a magazine. Chenle plopped down next to him. The other boy looked up in mild surprise, cocked his head, and set down the magazine. Chenle figured he couldn’t be too much older than himself, but still the other boy was a bit taller than Chenle.
He had a rather child-like face, Chenle thought. He wore a red T-shirt (another tomato!) and a white snapback with the Korean flag on the sun-blaster-protector thing that stuck out over his face. Chenle frowned. What was that thing called again? A stick-out-face-coverer? A face-visor?
“Er, is there something on my face?” The boy vigorously wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt.
Chenle widened his eye in surprise. “Hey, you’re Chinese too?”
The other boy shrugged. “Yeah, I am. I’m Huang Renjun. From Jilin. You?”
“Zhong Chenle, from Shanghai. I’m fifteen, born in 2001. Are--are you new here too?”
Renjun shrugged again. “Kind of. I came a few months ago, but I’m still pretty new. I’m supposed to show you around the building today, like guide you I guess.”
Chenle nodded slowly. “Oh, I see. Where’s everyone else? When I went to the dorm no one was there.”
“They’re all training right now. A few of them are debuting soon, like in a few months.” Renjun explained. “Wait, who are you bunking with again? Me?”
Chenle shook his head. “They told me it would be better if I took the top bunk of someone my age. His name is Ji--Ji-something. But I feel like it would be better if I bunked with someone I could actually talk to, haha.”
Renjun grinned. “Jisung? He’s cool, don’t worry. You can still talk to me anyway. But honestly, Korean’s not that hard. It’s a lot easier than Chinese, that’s for sure. You’ll be able to talk to the other trainees in no time. Sicheng and Qiankun are Chinese too. Yiyang and Ningning are too, but we don’t get to interact with the girls very much.”
Chenle was surprised. “Wow, so you were actually reading this magazine, even though you’ve only been here for a few months?”
Renjun turned slightly tomato. “Er, well, only some of it. Most of it no.”
“Chenle, can you fill out these forms, please. Since you have no parent or guardian with you right now, you have to fill out the unaccompanied minor form.” Tomato was back, holding out a stack of papers and a pen.
Chenle filled out the forms as Renjun talked about all the other trainees.
“Jeno, Jaemin, Donghyuck, and I are all 2000, and my birthday is in a couple months so I’m sixteen. Mark was born in late 1999. He’s 17, but he’s super cool. He’s from Canada and probably works the hardest out of everyone, so if you need help just ask him I guess. Actually, Taeyong works really hard too. He’s 21--”
“Hey, sorry, what’s the date again?” Chenle interrupted, signing the form.
“Er, 31 January 2016. What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, Taeyong. Taeyong looks really intimidating, but trust me he’s totally cool. Oh, are you done?” Renjun sat up from where he lay on the sofa.
“Yeah, but where did To--er, I mean, where did the woman go? Who do I give them to?” Chenle scanned the room for Tomato.
“Huimei? She’s over there.” Renjun points over to the reception desk where she’s talking to a short, plump woman.
The two of them walk over, and Chenle hands the forms over.
“Thanks, Chenle. Renjun, you can take Chenle around now.” Toma--Huimei nods, glancing over to the lifts.
“Okay, let’s go Chenle. The others are probably all practicing right now.”
The boys head to the lifts, following a young man wearing a grey jumper. Renjun bows in greeting, motioning for Chenle to do the same. The man has monolids and a rather cute face. Chenle is vaguely reminded of a chipmunk. They leave the elevator on the first floor, and they walk around, Renjun showing Chenle the store and the café (“they sell really tasty ramen, but it’s kinda expensive”). They skip the second floor and up because it’s just offices, practice rooms, and “old people stuff” as Renjun christened it.
They pass the ground floor and head to the second underground level.
“This is where everyone is practicing.” Renjun says. “They should be in the fourth one over here.”
Renjun opens the practice room door, where four kids are dancing to some vaguely familiar Korean song.
“Just wait ‘til they’re done. That one over there is Jeno, that one’s Jaemin, and that one’s Donghyuck.” Renjun points to each of the dancing boys. “And that one in the corner is Jisung. I think he’s the only one who’s younger than you. You said you’re 2001? He’s 2002. February I think? So actually his birthday’s coming up.”
Chenle grins wickedly. “I have someone younger than me? HAHa awesome.”
Renjun gives him a sideways glances. “Er, yeah. You’re actually pretty young. Jaemin’s the closest to you but he’s over a year older than you.”
Chenle watches Jisung. The boy actually looks rather adorable in an oversized grey hoodie. He still can't place the song, but it's rather catchy and he can’t help but think that Jisung has the cleanest movement out of the four, even though he’s the youngest.
Just as the song is ending, Chenle asks Renjun: “What’s the honorific for ‘little brother’ in Korean?”
Renjun opens his mouth then pauses like he’s thinking. “You say ‘oppa’ after his name.” He says finally.
Donghyuck flops down onto the ground. He says something in Korean and Jaemin tosses a water bottle to Donghyuck and grabs one for himself. Jeno walks over to Renjun and swings an arm around him, rambling off in what Chenle believed indistinguishable gibberish, pointing to Renjun’s… hat sun-blast-face-protecting visor.
Renjun shoves off the sweaty arm and laughs in what seems like embarrassment, as he takes off the hat and the color of his face reminds Chenle of Huimei. Renjun gibbers away as well, and Chenle hears his name.
Jeno turns to Chenle, grinning. He bows, and Chenle catches an ‘annyeonghaseyo’ in whatever he’s saying, and quickly he bows vigorously back, annyeonhaseyo-ing in reply.
Jeno laughs, eyes scrunching up. He babbles in Korean.
Renjun translates. “He says that you don’t need to bow five times. Once is enough since we’re all similar age.”
Chenle tomatoed, and bows in apology. The room cracks up, and when he realizes that he just bowed again he covers his face with his hands. Someone calls out warmly, and Chenle feels an arm around his shoulder. He turns to see Donghyuck grinning down at him, and the elder chuckles happily.
“He said that you’re so cute,” Renjun laughs, “and that you don’t need to bow to anyone else because you’ve bowed to Jeno six times already.”
Chenle cracks a smile, but suddenly stumbles when something sweaty and heavy collides into his back. Jaemin throws his arms around Chenle’s shoulders from behind him, and introduces himself. Donghyuck does the same. The boys gesture to sit on the ground to talk, and soon Chenle’s already grinning and laughing at their antics, albeit reacting late because Renjun needed to translate.
“Jisung-ah!” Renjun suddenly calls out, and the other boys look to the youngest, who is sitting in the corner scrolling on his phone. The charger dangles awkwardly in front of his face.
Cute, Chenle thinks.
The other boys echo Renjun, beckoning to him in Korean. Jisung bites his lip nervously, and Chenle wants to squeal from the adorableness. Jisung pushes himself up and shuffles over, and Jaemin tugs him down to sit on his lap.
“YAH! Jaemin-ah!” Jisung complains.
Jaemin gasps dramatically. Jisung’s ears turn pink (Chenle bites his cheek to contain himself) and amends himself. “Hyung! Jaemin-hyung!”
Jaemin shakes his head. “Chenle!” Is all Chenle understands as Jaemin points to him.
Jisung shifts uncomfortably on Jaemin’s lap, earning a cry of protest from the elder. Jisung eyes him coldly and Jaemin grins.
“Annyeonghaseyo.” Jisung says.
Chenle can’t control himself. He throws his arms around Jisung. “So cute, my oppa!” He giggles.
Jisung stares at Chenle once he lets go.
There’s silence, and then the rest of the boys explode in laughter. “What? What?” Chenle demands, face heating up. “Renjun!”
Renjun is practically crying. “Chenle, ‘oppa’ is the honorific for older males, if you’re a girl! There’s no honorific for those younger than you or your age. HahHAHAhhAAA”
“Wha--? Renjun, you told me--” Chenle covers his face again.
Chenle feels a tap on his head, and he looks up. Jisung has managed to extract himself from Jaemin’s grasp, who is rolling around on the ground dying.
Jisung has his hand outstretched. He isn’t laughing. Carefully Chenle shakes it, and his heart swoops when he sees a small smile from the younger.
“Jisung.” Jisung says, pointing to himself.
“Chenle.” Chenle says.
Jisung turns slightly tomato again but grins, revealing slightly crooked but extremely endearing teeth.
They have a lot more tomatoes in Korea than China, Chenle thinks. Cute.