Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

September 2018  

How hard could it really be to write a script? How hard was it? All one had to do was write up a few words that had the right amounts of pretentious, intriguing, and heart-warming, then just make them make sense together. Then, you just repeat. Really, that’s all there was to it.  

But the dictionaries and thesauri were against Min Kyunghoon today, and he didn’t know whether words would ever make sense to him again. How did he attain this position anyway? What the fuck was going on in the world anymore? 

The air conditioner and the faint hum of his headphones were the only sounds that filled the empty white room around him, and neither of them were contributing to the plain blank Word document that sat before him. Other things that belonged to his colleagues were littered on his team’s work desk, and he tried drawing inspiration from them hours ago, but to no avail. He even tried writing about a pencil, but it sounded too identical to a script from last week. 

Kyunghoon officially hated everything that was happening to him at the moment.  

“Yah, Writer-nim,” a voice called to his right. Whose voice was it? Was it the trash can’s or the coffee’s? Anyway, the probability of either was high. “Are you coming down with constipation, or what? Why’s your face so…?” 

Kyunghoon heaved out a sigh, and closed his eyes for a good second before looking at the owner of the voice. Ah, apparently it was the trash can. Kim Yejoon hyung stared at him from the door panel, crossing his arms across his chest. He would look the slightest bit intimidating if Kyunghoon’s headache wasn’t the prime suspect for his untimely death at the moment.  

“Why don’t you try writing something, hyung?” he asked, both annoyed and hopeful that the asshole could actually write a few lines for him to start on.  

Yejoon hyung snorted, and then went to go sit down on the seat across him. It was technically the office of Kyunghoon’s team (which Yejoon was not a part of), but neither of them seemed to care. Some company was needed in order to alleviate stress and death.  

Yejoon hyung looked at him pointedly. “What’s wrong this time?” he asked, never breaking his gaze on Kyunghoon.  

“What do you mean, hyung?”  

His hyung relaxed his position a bit and then started munching on the eraser at the end of a discarded pencil. Gross. “I mean,” he started. “You usually can’t write when something’s up with you. Am I wrong?” 

Kyunghoon let his eyes flicker to the spider web at the corner of the ceiling, seeming to be thinking pensively about something. Honestly, there was sense to what Yejoon said. Hell, Yejoon hyung knew him like the back of his hand, given that they knew each other for more than ten years. But Kyunghoon wasn’t going to admit that.  

“Yes, and no,” he answered instead, relishing the eyeroll that came with his reply. “True, I can come off as stumped when something happens to me, and mope about it for a few hours, but at least I would be able to write about that emotion or something.” 

Yejoon hyung waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Yada, yada,” he said. “But still, Kyunghoon, you’ve never been stumped for this long. Do you know how long I was watching you from the door?” 

What the fuck. “What?” 

Yejoon hyung snorted again, as if his stalker-ish actions were not at all creepy. “I was there for like an hour, Kyunghoon-ah,” he said to his own question. “And you didn’t move an inch.” 

Well, that was worrying. But hyung’s actions were too. He didn’t know which gave him more of a shock, though.  

He thought about Yejoon’s words, but honestly, nothing was bothering him. Well, nothing he could remember at the moment was bothering him. He looked at the time (15:46), but there was no appointment scheduled on his daily calendar (aside from the fucking deadline of the script at 23:59). So, really, what the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hyung, really though, there’s nothing up with me,” he said, trying to sound the sincerest he could so that he wouldn’t be badgered further.  

After a long look at Kyunghoon’s face, hyung hummed in acknowledgement. “Well, why don’t we take a break?”  

Kyunghoon opened his mouth to protest, but his stomach grumbled before he could even speak. The damn bastard.  

“Did you even eat lunch?” 

“I thought I did,” Kyunghoon said defeatedly, already gathering his things to place them in his messenger bag. “I guess I was wrong.” 

Yejoon hyung whistled, already making his way to the door. “Yah, you’re really off today,” he remarked. “Might as well treat my little hoobae who can’t seem to take care of himself.” 

Kyunghoon put his hand on his heart and mocked praise. “My savior!” he exclaimed, hands reaching high to the heavens. “What would I do without you?” 

Yejoon hyung kicked his ass before strutting down the corridor. An asshole, indeed. 

# 

From the outside of the building, the main office of Santa Radio (yes, literally Santa) was a sight to behold. All clear windows that seemed to shine and sparkle under the sunlight, accompanied by the lightly elegant lobby that they possessed. Though their company did pride themselves with their workplace, they were also very mindful of their main asset – their radio programs.  

Originally, Kyunghoon never even thought of being a writer, much less one for a radio show. Eight years ago, he never even listened to the radio, thinking that the radio DJs were pretentious, and the music they played may have been either too old or young for his taste. Kyunghoon is still hard to please like that. 

Apparently, things changed and Kyunghoon wasn’t that bad at writing in the first place. Ergo, he was more or less forced to find a job to stop himself and his dog from starving to death, and he basically tried every occupation that he could put his hands on.  

Maybe he could start writing about working hard? A day after hard work? Desperation? After all, nothing in his more recent shows seemed to tackle that. Kyunghoon slurped up more of his convenience store ramyeon, stomach pleased that it hasn’t been disregarded nor forgotten.  

“I thought you were going to abuse my wallet when I said that I would buy you something, Kyunghoon-ah,” Yejoon hyung said, eating a Subway sandwich. “I could’ve gotten you one of these, y’know.” 

Kyunghoon waved his free hand in the air, not even bothering to look up from his cup. “Issfine,” he mumbled.  

“Suit yourself,” hyung said, wagging a disapproving finger in front of Kyunghoon’s nose. “You’ll be working yourself dry on fumes today. I won’t bring you to the clinic this time, Kyunghoon.” 

He scoffed at that, munching on the slippery noodles. “As if I’ll faint today,” he assured. “Are you even done with picking the music for your show? Isn’t it an hour before yours goes on air?” 

Yejoon hyung swallowed the remaining quarter of his sandwich in one bite (and Kyunghoon had to try his best not to gag for him). “Do you really think I’d spend my time with you if I had something to do?” he asked, wiping his fingers clean from oil residue. 

Kyunghoon just started at his hyung.  

“Fine, maybe I would,” Yejoon hyung surrendered, hands raised. “But that day’s not today. I liked the concept Lee PD picked out for us today – love.” 

Kyunghoon, once again, tried not to gag at the choice of a more or less common concept. It usually appeared once a week, and the ratings of the show spiked just a little bit higher when it was chosen. He didn’t understand exactly why other PDs and writers continue to pick it, but perhaps one of the factors was that it was easy for them to write about it.  

“Tut,” Yejoon hyung said, placing a finger on Kyunghoon’s lips. “Don’t complain about it again, you edgy ass piece of shit. The concept also suits our DJ anyways, so it really does benefit the show when we do it.” 

Kyunghoon smacked his hyung’s hand away from his lips and replaced them with his chopsticks carrying a large chunk of noodles and rice cakes. “It seems like Lee Teuk-sshi can’t pull off anything else,” he said, albeit a little bitterly. “But I’d admit his tone is nice for the audience.” 

Yejoon hyung shook his head a bit, frowning slightly. “Yeah, and unlike you he has a pleasing personality,” 

He put his hand on top of his heart and mocked hurt. “Oh my,” he exclaimed. “As if I would be hurt being compared to a fake ass idol.” 

Yehoon hyung rolled his eyes again. He didn’t know whether it was just his hyung’s habit or he just unconsciously rolls his eyes a thousand times whenever he’s with Kyunghoon. It was only an eyeroll more before they became permanently stuck at the back of his hyung’s sockets. 

“I’m not even replying,” hyung said, standing up to throw away his sandwich wrapper. “All I know is that he does the job well and gets it done. Nothing else I could want more from the guy.” 

Kyunghoon just scoffs. He never met Lee Teuk personally, but word does go around fast when his team is majorly comprised of people who actively love and support multiple idol groups.  

His team was more than overjoyed when they heard the news that their very own Lee Teuk of Super Junior was going to be working in a show in Santa Radio. They talked about him for more than two months before the hype died down.  

Kyunghoon drowned out the other information that he got from the group that wasn’t related to any dirt or scandals that the guy had (e.g. his three meals, the brands of the clothes he wore, his perfume of the week). He knows that the guy’s had his fair share of experience with multiple shows and radio shows aside from the idol business. Another thing he does know is that the guy doesn’t really talk or brag to anyone else in this establishment aside from his team. Recluse, and fairly a good DJ, Kyunghoon doesn’t have a reason to hate him, but it’s not like he doesn’t have a reason not to hate him.  

“You’re probably looking for reasons to hate the guy aside from your ‘anti-idol’ prejudice,” Yejoon hyung remarked, standing beside Kyunghoon. “But as you’ve said, I have my program to attend to. Are you done yet?” 

Kyunghoon shook his head, nodding to his half full ramyeon cup. “Go ahead, hyung, I’ll work on my script down here,” 

“’Kay, Kyunghoon-ah,” his hyung said, giving him a (too strong) pat on the shoulder. “See you later.” 

The chime of the convenience store door signaled his departure, and Kyunghoon was alone again. Maybe he wasn’t really alone, since the cashier seemed to be looking at him (or staring at him) from a distance, but he really had no one to talk to again. Well, this was fine.  

Kyunghoon honestly liked working in places that were not-his-office, but sometimes a stroll outside was too tedious and tiring without any motivation or (figurative or literal) push. He studied the trees and tried to form a story with the leaves, or how we needed them to live. Nah, that wasn’t the way to go for tonight. The clouds were probably something that was too light for his program, and he honestly didn’t want the word ‘fluffy’ to grace his document. Well then, he’d just go with the tired and grieving concept that he had thought about moments ago.  

Taking out his laptop, Kyunghoon finally had a good idea about what he wanted for the script, and how he wanted to present it. Everything was better when his mind wasn’t being uncooperative.  

Kyunghoon closed his eyes for a bit, trying to picture how one would feel like after a day of work, when everything literally went to shit, and when nothing was really solved by the end of the day. He felt the emptiness that came with the effort, the fatigue that came with the pursuit of salvation, the lifelessness that came after everything. He breathed in.  

His head was slumped on the bus window, head hanging low with his breaths coming out laboured . It had been hours since his last meal, but his stomach didn’t seem to complain as much as it should have been. His heart beat steadily against his rib cage, but it wasn’t beating fast enough. Blood rushed through his system as cold as the approaching winter air, and he felt the chill when he exhaled through his throat.   

A lead weight rested against his shoulders when he exited the bus, threatening to push him down under the ground. His feet weren’t moving as they should have – they sunk too low into the pavement, and they dragged a little too much. His eyes were stuck on the dull grey of the street beneath his feet, and he couldn’t even bring himself to face anyone who passed by.   

He felt the disappointment in himself that served as his cloak, wrapping its arms around his back and whispering terrible things in his ear. Its breath that purred against the shell of his ear caused the air around him to drop a few more degrees, and filled his lungs with shards of glass. The hand that was wrapped around his eyes made him see the streets, the shops, and the people around him as a world that was inherently against him.   

He was losing track of time, as each second felt like an hour and each step felt like it was bringing him even farther from his destination rather than closer. He couldn’t stand the people around him, he couldn’t stand the lively streets he was walking when he could have been doing better in his office, doing more.  

T hen he saw the bright , yellow lights that bathed his quaint house, and he smelled the home-cooked meal that was waiting for him in the living room. His chest thawed, and he left the cloak on the porch outside the door. He felt that his hand was growing closer to the comforting flame when he laid his hand on the door knob and twisted.   

An immediate embrace of warmth engulfed him as he made his way inside, and he felt how the lead weights had turned into clouds when those hands were wrapped around his shoulders. He felt the warm press of happiness as he drew them closer, and he closed his eyes to breathe in the scent of life and reward.  

W hen he opened his eyes again, the world was in warm tones – the warmest tones coming from the one standing in front of him, hands anchoring him to them. Warm eyes were looking directly at him, and they began to speak, saying –   

“Yah! Min Kyunghoon!” 

Kyunghoon’s hands stopped typing, and it took him every ounce of his strength not to turn and punch someone in the eye. That specific someone being his own damn producer, who Kyunghoon thought wanted the best for the program, and more specifically their script. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and turned slightly towards Yoo Woohyun, the utter ballsack.  

“Yejoon told me you were here like, two hours ago,” Woohyun hyung explained, moving to sit across where he was. “I thought you would have left by now, but it’s good to see that your ass is still there.” 

Kyunghoon rolled his eyes. “I was busy writing this long overdue script until you interrupted me,” he said. “But why were you looking for me?” My god, why was his presence in such high demand these days?  

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you that it will be Junyoung-sshi’s last two weeks on the program,” Woohyun said casually, and Kyunghoon’s jaw dropped.  

Junyoung was a great DJ who honestly had the voice and the honest to God skill to use it on the radio. Being a relatively renowned singer, he drew in enough attention to the program with his reputation, while not overpowering the program in itself, which was honestly a big win on the team’s part. Aside from that, Junyoung was cooperative to work with, and even pointed out a few things with the script that help Kyunghoon immensely. Overall, he seemed invested and involved with the program down to its core, so naturally, Kyunghoon wondered why the fuck did he want out? 

He cleared his throat, schooling his expression to something that said ‘that’s shocking, but my world’s not going to end’ rather than ‘that’s fucking disgusting news and God is against me and the apocalypse is coming’. “Since when was he considering leaving the program?” 

Woohyun hyung tried to take a peek at his tablet screen from where he was seated before Kyunghoon smacked his hand away. “Well, we’ve been in conversation ever since his company wanted him to go back into writing more music and participating in acting all of a sudden,” hyung stated, giving him a dirty look. “That was three months ago, and now they’ve finalized it!” 

“Did Junyoung-sshi want to leave the show?” Kyunghoon asked, wondering how three whole months of important information just happened to slip under his radar.  

“Well, it wasn’t really a decision he planned on, nor was willing to make, but it was best for him, considering that he wanted to write new songs and all that singer shit,” his hyung explained, looking at Kyunghoon pointedly.  

He drew a hand through his hair, trying his best not to feel too sad about the departure. He’s had multiple programs and DJs to work with throughout the eight-ish years he had been in the industry, but this kind of news was never that easy for Kyunghoon to hear. After all, he never did like the endings.  

“How come none of this was made aware to me before today?” 

Woohyun hyung looked at him skeptically. “Haven’t you been reading the update emails I’ve sent you?” 

Well, shit. “I’m not sure I-I’ve been receiving them lately,” he lied. In truth, Kyunghoon didn’t bother to read any of the emails that have been sent to him by Woohyun hyung since he thought the were pretty boring. Kyunghoon liked to think that he knew what things have been going on simply through practical experience or word-of-mouth, but apparently, he was wrong.  

“Hmm,” Woohyung hyung hummed, surprisingly nonchalant about Kyunghoon’s apparent oblivion and apathy towards office communication. “At least you know now.” 

A stretch of silence proceeded between them before Kyunghoon started to type a few more things in the script, mildly concerning the departure of their DJ. “Then, is there any news regarding the new DJ we’ll be having?”  

Woohyun hyung then stilled suddenly, hands closed so tight that they turned white. “Well, Kyunghoon-ah, in all honesty,” he started, evading his eye contact. It took a few more seconds until hyung continued his sentence. “I thought you’d have read it from the most recent update email. The program’s getting cancelled.” 

Kyunghoon’s world stopped, and his hands turned cold.  

“Wha–“ 

Then Woohyun hyung burst out laughing, hands banging on the convenience store table so hard that the part-timer behind them jumped a little from where she was standing. He laughed his heart out like a coyote, coughing out shrill notes of humour. What the fuck? 

“Kyu-Kyunghoon-ah,” he said in between laughs. “You should have seen your face!” 

This bastard was getting it now, Kyunghoon thought as he leaned over the table and punched his own producer in the shoulder. Damn the positional hierarchy that existed in society, he deserved it.  

His hyung coughed out the rest of his laugh, and tried to school himself back into being a human being once again. “I hope that will teach you to start reading work-related emails rather than deleting them off your inbox.” 

Kyunghoon stifled a groan, and started to keep his hands busy on the keyboard again. He refused to give Woohyun hyung the satisfaction of looking him in the eye, allowing him to see the devastation and embarrassment that still lived in there. Nevertheless, Kyunghoon did open his browser and un-block Woohyun hyung’s email. Fuck him. 

“But to answer your question,” hyung said, voice professional once again. “We’ve started screening a few people who have been willing to assume the position. Gladly, ‘Walking in the Moonlight’ is a fairly well-known program, so most of the candidates aren’t monotonous pains in the ass.” 

“Who’s the most promising one so far?” 

Woohyun hyung stopped a moment to think. “Well, out of the ones that we’ve interviewed so far, it’s Park Jinyoung from an idol group (which you probably hate already) and – to our surprise – Kim Woobin,” he replied. “Both of them have the tone that suits the recurring concepts of our program, and they’re actually good at…well, speaking.” 

Kyunghoon breathed a sigh of relief. He was thankful that his team remained unbiased regarding the skill of a person, and wasn’t that easily swayed by good looks, nor fame. Yet, he was still unsettled by the fact that he wasn’t there for the interviews that have already transpired. Damn him and his ignorance.  

“Are there any more people that need to be screened?” he asked, hopefully. He liked to participate in screenings for potential DJs, even if they were usually during the last batch (his list of blocked e-mail addresses was long), and fuck anyone who thought that a program would continue to run without him interfering with it in some way.  

Woohyun hyung brightened up at that, and nodded. “I’ll send you the list of people to be screened later. It’s happening tomorrow at two-thirty in the afternoon, so I hope you won’t be too busy sleeping in your room to come.” 

He rolled his eyes, opting to scroll through and correct whatever mistakes that popped up during his two hours of ramen-induced writing. “No matter how low of a standard you put me in, I take my punctuality seriously, hyung,” he said.  

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kyunghoonie,” hyung said, standing up and patting Kyunghoon’s shoulder in the process. “Any other information I’ll need you to know, I’m going to expect you to find it in your inbox.” 

Woohyun hyung gave him a pointed look before he made his way out of the convenience store, the little bell chiming in his stead.  

The sun was already coming down from where it was, casting orange hues on the objects around him. Kyunghoon didn’t notice time passing (as usual), and it always shocked him to feel how much time had passed when he was done working. It was weird to know how a lot of things had changed around him even though he was just there, staying still and unmoving. He yawned.  

After finally finishing the script he was slaving over for the past day, he packed the remainder of his things and made his way out of the convenience store at last.  

He felt light. 

# 

Apparently, that feeling of lightness and weightlessness didn’t last him long, as they were on the fourth hopeful baby bird and Kyunghoon wanted his ears to bleed and die. He thought that as it was their third day of screening possible people for the position, they would be stuck with only the more or less best people as the ours drawled by. Even the names on the goddamn list of people lulled him into a false sense of security, and he knew that if ever he wanted a child, he would name them in a way that truly represented who they were. Hell, he'd already named him baby bird with how he was wasting their time by literally breathing when he should have been reciting poetry.  

All the people had to do was answer a few professional and formal questions regarding themselves, answer why they are interested in cooperating with the program, and trying to appeal to them by reciting whatever they wanted to. It was simple, in Kyunghoon’s standards, so his patience was running thin at every flat note he heard from three of the people that came and went.  

Kyunghoon ran a hand through his hair, faintly pulling on his curly strands. The first one they had for today was by far the best on for this lot. Her name was Kim Juna, and she could honestly convince Kyunghoon that he had six toes just by the hypnotizing tone of her voice. It suited the program, and she had a special thing with her voice that Woohyun hyung probably knows better than he does.  

He wonders what brought baby bird into this position, when he apparently seems to lack a little too much for a DJ. Kyunghoon flips through his stack of resumes and finds the right one, finally seeing what qualified him to be contacted by his team. The answer was: a direct, familial relation to one of the directors of the company, and a decorated list of acting gigs that the guy did (mostly consisting of series regulars rather than permanent roles).  

After a minute of watching baby bird flutter around the poem that he was trying (very desperately) to recite with emotion, he finally finished and flashed them a smile. Kyunghoon tried his best to reciprocate, but it came out looking like a strangled grimace. Kyunghoon found it hard to lie, even when it would be the politest thing to do.  

“Well, Kim Youngmin-sshi,” Woohyun hyung started, plastering the most stoic face that Kyunghoonhad seen him make. “We appreciate your apparent interest in the program, proven by the multiple lines you’ve cited used in our runs. We’ll deliberate seriously regarding your acceptance in the team.” 

The optimistic undertone in his hyung’s words to the young man apparently lifted his spirits up, and he made his way to the door at the gesture made by Woohyun hyung. It was sad to see him so happy over a false sentiment, but he couldn’t care less about the man he saw perform poorly.  

“Are we actually going to deliberate that seriously about him?” Kim Minzy asked, more-or-less slumping her torso on the table in front of her.  

Kyunghoon liked Minzy, both as a person and as a colleague. She was in-charge of the music list that they were to play during the show, and also handled more of the correspondence between the whole community than Woohyun hyung was (though he would never admit to such). She was studious, and honestly was particular about everything, which made sure that their show flowed steadily and collectedly. Even though she was there after leaving her previous show, she didn’t take long to get into the family that was building between the team.  

Woohyun sighed and turned to look at her. “We can’t just break their spirit right on the spot,” he said. “Besides, we might find him good after looking back at the audition.” 

“I doubt that will happen, considering how it sounded like he was choking on bird feathers throughout the whole time he was reading,” Kyunghoon pointed out, striking out the name from his list.  

Minzy made a sound of approval. “His voice was also too high pitched for the program. I don’t think it would blend in with any mellow song that would be playing throughout the program.” 

Woohyun hyung looked between the two of them, and giving them dirty looks. “You two really don’t give people chances, do you?”  

The two hummed in unison, while their producer’s grunt resonated through the white walls around them. 

Opting to be prepared with a set of expectations on their fifth round of auditions, Kyunghoon started to flip through the next name on the list. To his actual surprise, it was a name he knew. He needed to put on his reading glasses just to make sure he wasn’t going blind all of a sudden. At the sound of Minzy’s squeal, apparently he wasn’t.  

Lo and behold, they were going to have the Universe’s Star himself audition for the a position in the show. Kyunghoon wasn’t having it.  

“Can we just skip him? I mean…,” Kyunghoon offered, hiding the annoyance and dread in his voice with his usual airy tone. Woohyun just shook his head in response, and signaled the assistant at the door to let the idol inside the room.  

At the first sound of his footsteps, Kyunghoon’s muscles turned into lead, and his feet were suddenly grounded to the floor. His breath came with a chill down his throat, and he would much like to be out of the room. He trusted the two of them enough to make a decision about the man, and he couldn’t give less of a shit regarding him. 

He let out a shaky breath. Woohyun’s hand squeezed Kyunghoon’s leg discreetly under the table.  

Minzy didn’t even try to hide the dreamy sigh that left her throat as the man entered the room, smiling disgustingly brightly at the woman that let him in. He greeted the three of them warmly with polite bows before he took his seat, still wearing an appallingly wide grin on his face. He reckoned that the man would become the Joker at the sheer amount of time the other had to smile throughout the day.  

He slowly sat up straighter, ignoring the dull tremor in his right hand which left feint lines of ink to decorate the borders of his paper. He looked at the man again, telling his emotions to go fuck themselves. 

The man spared smiles to Minzy (whose hand slipped suspiciously, which made her risk falling from her chair), Woohyun hyung (who plastered his work smile on his face), and even Kyunghoon. He gave him an uninterested glare in return. The other didn’t even falter at the look, and proceeded to wait for the interview to commence.  

Kyunghoon’s chest constricted at the nonchalance that glazed his movements, and he ducked his head and tried to burn holes into the paper. If only he too would be that much of a bastard to let go of the past like that. Damn him. Fuck him. 

He let out a breath between his teeth. He willed his heartbeat to slow down even just a little bit, especially if it wanted it’s own person to be able to live for another minute and a half. 

“Good afternoon, Kim Heechul-sshi,” Woohyun hyung greeted politely, voice echoing through the room. “My name is Yoo Woohyun, the producer for the program, ‘Walking in the Moonlight’, and I’m happy to hear your interest in applying for the position of DJ.” 

Heechul-sshi waved a hand and chuckled lightly. “It is an honour to be a candidate for your program. You have no idea how my members and even my dog enjoys tuning into the program every Thursday and Friday.” 

Kyunghoon looked up and raised an eyebrow, skeptical if the man actually tuned in or, like the other candidates, knew the surface level knowledge of the program. Well, it wasn’t the first time that lie was used on him today, if ever.  

He felt a bead of sweat go down his spine. 

Woohyun hyung drilled the man through the same questions as the other candidates (e.g. what do you expect for in a program, what were the things that he looked forward to if accepted), and he answered in the same professional earnest. It surprised Kyunghoon how the man wasn’t trying to charm his way through the interview, and actually gave constructive answers. Well, at least Kyunghoon could see how he wasn’t that much of an assuming asshole who thought that with one hair-flip too many, he would get the position. He shuddered, and Woohyun pat his thigh a bit in response.  

Instead of actually paying attention to what the guy was saying, since it wasn’t particularly his scope to care about those things, being the writer, he analyzed the man who Kyunghoon hadn’t seen in more than ten years. It was one way to keep his mind preoccupied, even if he was still the man who he was thinking of.   

No longer was he as thin and waif-like when he was on the stage a decade ago. By no means was he built either, and on the contrary, he was lean and had a good balance of muscle and a thin layer of fat in him. His posture was relaxed and accommodating, not arrogant and closed-off as it had been before. His face had matured, giving him stronger and sharper angles, rather than the feminine and delicate facial structure that he possessed then. Kyunghoon also noted that his eyes were softer and kinder than they had been to him then – hawk-like and predatory.  

What surprised Kyunghoon too, though belatedly, was his voice.  

–What do you want from me, rookie?, he asks, eyes glowering upon him – deadly. His feet are lead, and the thought of what he was here to do escapes him. All he knows is that his voice is like poison, seeping through his veins and stopping his blood from flowing, trying to suck the life out of him– 

Kyunghoon shudders, and focuses on the now – the reality that is existing. He adjusts his glasses so that he can actually read the words on the paper beneath him rather than see them blur themselves out of existence. He breathes again, steadily through his nose, and concentrates on whatever conversation is being shared between his friend and the other man.  

“…and you are particularly experienced with multiple variety shows, but I have to ask, why do you want to move back into the radio business?” Woohyun hyung asks, voice grounding Kyunghoon to the white room with white chairs and a mahogany table beneath his fingers. He breathes deeply between his nostrils, and apparently isn’t the only one to do so. 

The man across Kyunghoon also takes a deep breath, and looks away into the ceiling, thinking hard. Kyunghoon doesn’t give a rat’s ass about whatever the guy has to say, but with the air trying to escape his lungs and his eyes faintly stinging red, he needs an anchor. He’s doing everything in his power not to appear weak now, not when he can reject the man here and now after everything.  

“I wanted to work with you since I fell in love with your words.” 

Kyunghoon’s breathing comes to a halt. He looks up from the paper and straight into the other man’s chesnut brown eyes. He feels the sea green calmness from the other man and draws it into himself in the hopes that it would help. His eyes flicker off somewhere to the right. 

At the knowledge of Kyunghoon’s attention, the man smiles politely at him before continuing. “Somehow, your use of mundane and objects and scenarios resonated within me, and I found myself comforted with the words shared by Joonyoung-sshi,” he said, chuckling lightly as if remembering a particularly fond moment. “It was if he was talking to me directly.” 

He cleared his throat before continuing. “Though, as you’ve said,” he continues. “I’ve been working in the world of variety entertainment that is broadcasted through the television, I think that there’s something more intimate about the comfort provided by a radio. A voice is more proof of life and company than the physical presence of a person, surprisingly. I think that the grounded aspect of your content is what draws people closer to the program, and makes them find warmth in it. The combination of both the intimacy of the voice and the reality emphasized by the show itself is what made me fall in love with the program, after listening to it after a couple of times.  

“To correct you though, I don’t intend to move back into the radio. I mean to integrate myself into your program solely, since I like it that much. After all, ‘the rarity of a piece of art that causes one to latch onto it for as long as they can.’” 

Kyunghoon keeps his gaze intent on the man, his face not showing any signs of flattery nor adoration at the rather detailed and impressive answer that he gave to Woohyun hyung’s question. He doesn’t notice how genuine his voice sounded while expounding on his answer. He does not dwell on the fact that he speaks to them like a friend (regardless of the honorifics). He doesn’t pay mind to how he used one of Kyunghoon’s lines from his script that was broadcasted three years ago. He doesn’t even think of the fact that his voice actually matched what they wanted for the program (i.e. bright, mellow, the resounding hum of a tenor, a little laugh that sounded as calm as the running river, serious like the voice a mother would use when sending her child to bed).  

Instead, Kyunghoon looks to his right, where both Minzy and Woohyun hyung have approving smiles on their faces. He feels the low bubble of anger in his veins, and doesn’t dare look at the man’s face for the duration of the interview. He successfully drowns out the sound of his calm voice reading out his piece (it was a line from The Little Prince, the one about how special his Rose was).  

Much to Kyunghoon’s delight, he spares a glance at the man’s back as he departs from the room. He didn’t even bother returning the pleasantries that the other offered, and immediately slackened when the resounding ‘click’ of the door went to his ears. 

Woohyun hyung immediately hummed in approval as he started to scan through the man’s resume for the enth time in the half hour they spent in the interview. “I honestly like the man,” he said, wearing a small smile on his face. “I thought he was going to be too loud and happy for the program, but apparently, I’m wrong.” 

Minzy wagged a finger between him and Kyunghoon. “You two underestimate Heechul-sshi! All that experience for thirteen years in the industry didn’t give him nothing to be proud of!” 

Kyunghoon just sighed, and turned to look at his list of names.  

“Now that I’m thinking of it, Park Jinyoung-sshi and Kim Woobin-sshi’s voices were too low for the program,” Woohyun said belatedly, scribbling something onto his pieces of paper. “I think that his pitch is just right.” 

Their female colleague nodded her head profusely, a big smile on her face.  

Regardless of whether or not the man’s skilled bested the previous candidate’s, he couldn’t let his own prejudices and sentiments cloud his judgement. Honestly, his answers appealed to Woohyun (obviously), and his flattery regarding the program and Kyunghoon’s writing was apparent enough that it stroked the right places. He also had more than average knowledge regarding the program, and seemed to know at it wanted to achieve. Lastly, God be damned, he really did have a nice voice (even when it wasn’t singing.  

He forgot entirely whatever the hell Kim Juna did that afternoon, and absent-mindedly crossed out her name in the list Kyunghoon had made. Begrudgingly, where the man’s name was, he put a tiny asterisk, rather than the check mark that he put beside Juna’s name earlier. At the bottom of the page, he put a footnote that read: actually a great dj, but prepare to be alcoholic once decided as one. 

He rubbed his eyes harshly before turning to see the next candidate they had for DJ. 

# 

Later on, Kyunghoon notices that the other man’s voice had calmed him down, but he just chalks it off to him leeching off the other’s man’s emotions. 

# 

“Kyunghoonie, everyone here loves you, but damn,” Yejoon hyung said, voice as unsteady as his friend himself. “You’ve got to let go.” 

Kyunghoon stifled a laugh and looked at his hyung. “Fucking rich for you to say, Mr. It-Takes-Me-Two-Months-To-Move-On-From-A-Break-Up.” 

He took another swing of soju before he noticed that he was, in fact, almost on the way to wasted on a weeknight. Well, this week really did call for it, with Woohyun hyung about to contact Kim Heechul-sshi regarding the fact that yes, he was going to be the new DJ for ‘Walking in the Moonlingt’. He drowned the whole bottle of soju in one go.  

Junki hyung wrapped an arm around him, patting him strongly on the back. Ever since he got married and had a son, Shin Junki hyung didn’t drink as strongly as he did before. Being the second youngest in their group, he would often fuck everything and drink until he passed out on the sticky bar table but now, responsibility was a good look on him as he was mothering the group. It was a good change, and everyone was fine with it – supportive, actually.  

“For how professional you can be about some things,” Woohyun hyung starts, a faint pink dusting his own cheeks as he munches on some corn chips. “I can’t believe you’re letting this one get to you the most.” 

He waved a dismissive hand in the general direction of where Woohyun hyung was seated across from himself, giving Woohyun hyung (or someone else) a stink eye. “I just never thought that…that…,” Kyunghoon tried to say. Honestly, thinking about it now, he didn’t know if he had any expectations or thoughts about the man until two days ago.  

“People change Kyunghoon-ah,” Junki hyung said, probably knowing what he was specifically pondering about. “And I doubt that he really knows anything about what happened then.” 

Seonghee hyung nodded at what Junki hyung said, raising his glass to the man. Being the other married and family-bearing asshole of their group, it seemed as if they also became part-time psychologists or advisors in the process. Minus the fact that Son Seonghee hyung was an actual psychiatrist. 

“Both of you were hot-blooded teenagers thrust into fame,” Seonghee supplies, showing a supportive smile. “Two large egos that burn hot usually come to fight each other one way or another.” 

“All of you were like that too!” Kyunghoon reminded, wagging his finger accusingly at his best friends. “We were all on the same boat at the time, but it’s like I’m the only one that remembers that.” 

Yejoon hyung sighed and rolled his eyes, as if Kyunghoon had said some bullshit (which he had not, the fucker). “Yes, we were,” he conceded. “But we grew out of those times, even though they will always mark a very important time in our lives.” 

His friends chorused their affirmations, and were nodding. Goddamn, was he really that unreasonable when it came to a broken time of his life? 

“Is there really something that bad about holding a grudge against him?” he asked, needing a concrete answer rather than being subject to reading between the lines.  

“Well,” Woohyun hyung started, already on his fifth soju bottle. “I understand that you are actually a little justified to still be hurt about the incident then, and it’s really not my place to meddle with your emotions when you know them best, but just know this Kyunghoon-ah: you can’t let him get into your bones too much to the point that it interferes with your work.” 

Yejoon hyung nodded. “Speaking from someone who’s also in the field,” he started, looking him pointedly in the eye. “Keep your personal grudges away from your professional work…well, unless he actually motivates you to write something.” 

“Yeah,” Kyunghoon said with a grimace on his face. “As if I would even waste a few words on his dumb ass.” 

# 

The low rumble of Junyoung’s voice filled the studio, and Kyunghoon found himself a little melancholy at the fact that it was going to be the man’s second to the last time that he would be there. Still, Kyunghoon diligently typed down notes on his monitor, instructing Junyoung-shhi to sound brighter, laugh a little, and the like. It seemed as if the sadness didn’t resonate only within himself.  

Kyunghoon peeked to take a look at Junyoung’s face as he read the script and it was always the same as the other times he was here in the recording room. His eyes were only focused on the script for most of the time, sporadically flickering between it, the monitor, and Woohyun hyung’s pleased face in case he had gestured anything. His (rather large) ears were tucked under headphones, one hand pressed lightly on one side, as if it was a habit.  

Junyoung-sshi was a very diligent member of the team, and he poured his heart into doing what he was supposed to do here, and that was to talk to whoever was listening. He was extremely careful of what he was to say, and how he would say it, yet it would come out as natural rather than calculated. He was amazing when it came to talking to anyone across the line, and was also capable of answering their questions without Kyunghoon’s help (which was great for both parties since Kyunghoon wasn’t great at answering questions). He even took them out to go for a drink sometimes after their show – not that that was what Kyunghoon liked the best about him (he swears). 

His heart hung heavy with the act that today, Junyoung-sshi’s lips were turned down by the slightest fraction, and that made his heart drop to his feet.  

It was nearing the end of the show, and Junyoung had already began to talk about how fulfilling it was to come home after a day of hard work, sit down, and smile about the sweet, short stories that were shared over the dinner table. 

“…and even when you feel like you’ve been drained of everything that makes you happy, just one touch is enough to bring you back to life,” Junyoung said, sounding overjoyed as if it was actually happening to him. “So allow that one touch, and don’t be alone especially when you need it.” 

He shudders as he types the words to the monitor. Junyoung-sshi, in your own words, announce. 

The other man’s eyes go a little wide as he reads the words, but his words don’t falter. He looks at Kyunghoon and gives him a small smile, and that comforts him well enough. He shrugs in response. I didn’t know how to put it into script, he mouths.  

Junyoung-sshi clears his throat as he recites the last words of the printed script, then starts. “Well, although it may have been revealed on a short notice, this is going to be my second to the last appearance on the show.” 

He turns to look at the gathering of fans that peek through the clear glass window, and flashes them a blinding smile. Ugh, he hated how the guy could make a thousand women melt into the ground just by breathing. He remembered when he had the same ability, but shoved it aside for later bitterness.  

At the sound of their shocks of surprise mingled with sadness, he turns back to look to the team. “It is a decision that has been made so that I could also pursue the other things that I love doing, and I hope that you’ll still be supporting me with my other endeavors aside from the radio show.” 

He turned to look at his fellow colleagues, and he saw the Minzy was already shedding her tears while Woohyun hyung was silently trying to hide his own. He silently laughed at the sight of the two of them moping, until he realized that his eyes also harbored unshed tears. Sentiment can go choke in the corner. 

“Anyways,” Junyoung started, clearing his throat again, seemingly trying his hardest not to cry. “Now is not the time for goodbyes as you’ll see me next week as we talk to each other, walking under the moonlight.” 

Woohyun hyung flashed a thumbs up at the two of them, and started to play their ending song for the session. The four of them turned to each other and smiled wordlessly, stuck in the afterglow of a good show. Kyunghoon really loved his team as it was, and saw that they all felt the same. It would be hard to see Junyoung go after almost three years of being together on the program.  

He felt an arm snake across his shoulders, then pat him strongly on the back. “Thank you for another great script today, Kyunghoon-sshi,” Junyoung said, a smile gracing his face. The screams of the fans were also resonant within the recording room, and he was grateful for the fact that he was born with ears that were superior than most.  

“Well, I can’t help the fact that I was born with this talent,”he said, shrugging. The best way he knew how to deal with a compliment was to take it with fuckery and cockiness, and that worked all the time.  

Junyoung-sshi laughed lightly at the remark, and moved to go into the control room. Kyunghoon sighed fondly, and started to turn off the monitors and equipment. He looked down on Junyoung’s table to see his coffee, which he didn’t even drink, and felt the familiar buzz of annoyance make its way into his system. There were a lot of things he was accustomed to with Junyoung-sshi, and he wasn’t that excited to see him trying to adapt to another set of quirks to get used to. 

By no means was Junyoung-sshi his first DJ to work with, but he is certainly the one that influenced him the most. Even though he was a downright asshole to the other man in the beginning of their time working together, Junyoung acted like Kyunghoon had told him that his hair looked nice when he really said ‘the way you say your lines sound like shit’. That was when he really began to grow on Kyunghoon. 

He taught Kyunghoon to be more accepting of ad-libs – that he could trust somebody else with what they had to do. Junyoung even gave Kyunghoon some pointers when writing scripts for God’s sake. Then, Kyunghoon learned that he wasn’t the only one who was working there.  

–moonlight shone through the window to their right, illuminating only a portion of their recording room. ‘Just know this Kyunghoon-sshi,’ he said, tapping his fingers against their wooden desk. ‘You’re not the only one who’s trying, and you should accept the help that is given to you. Woohyun-sshi, Minzy-sshi, and I are you allies, and just learn to accept us as we are,’ he continued, then a smile appeared on both of their faces, marking the beginning of– 

A tap on the glass startled Kyunghoon out of his reverie, then say Minzy there, waving at him wildly. We’re out to get wasted bitch!, she mouthed. The three of them were beckoning Kyunghoon to join them, tears no longer visible on their faces. He shrugged, getting the tension out of his shoulders, and flipped the last switch which bathed him in the darkness, the only light coming from where his friends stood. 

# 

It had been two weeks from the last time they went out together as a team, and now it was only the three of them going out for a drink.  

On the day that Junyoung-sshi ended his last show, he sat there on their desk silent for a few moments. In fact, even after his fans had already left to begin crowding the entrance of the building, the four of them sat motionless for about ten minutes or so. The air around them was heavy with words that were both said and unsaid, leaving them grounded and pressed down to their chairs.  

Only the sounds of breathing were heard from both rooms, with the occasional white noise further exemplifying their silence. It was as if they were too afraid to break their last moment together, which was actually kind of false since a meet-up wouldn’t go amiss (considering how much of a leech Minzy could be). Either way, the grief and sadness of a goodbye was weighing down on his tongue, but he willed it to stay there since he was too much of a coward to make permanent Junyoung-sshi’s departure.  

“Thank you,” 

Junyoung broke the silence, looking Kyunghoon square in the eye. All of the other words he had to say seemed to be there, and he understood too well. He looked away, eyes burning. 

“Thank you,” he then said to Woohyun hyung, and gave him a strong yet sad smile. Woohyun hyung nodded in response, and said the same, voice echoing around the room. 

“And thank you,” he then said to Minzy. The finality of his tone was apparent, and Minzy burst into tears once Junyoung-sshi looked at her.  

They were all big, sobbing messes, and even then Junyoung-sshi had the audacity to laugh. None of them were startled by this, and they continued to sniffle their way through the rest of the hour, still not rising up from where they sat. 

They left their control rooms in light conversation, arm in arm, as if it were just another day doing their job. As if next week, Thursday, it would still be the four of them gathering together in their office, talking about their show. 

It wasn’t as if they were awkward without Junyoung, but it fucking felt like it. Even though Kyunghoon was annoyed with his, he found that he couldn’t bring himself to speak up without him feeling the need to ask Junyoung about it. Woohyun was his best friend, but even he seemed to be a second interest in comparison to their absent member.   

They made their way silently to the restaurant near Santa Radio, and quietly made their way to their usual seats. They ordered the same thing they ordered (three orders of chicken in varied flavours and one order of bulgogi), and almost ordered four bottles of soju instead of three, which caused them to shudder before correcting themselves. It was like they were in mourning. 

For all that Kyunghoon could tolerate and learn to live with, he couldn’t stand being in a restaurant and moping in public. He did his moping in private, and the empty packets of chips and bottles that surrounded his sofa-turned-bed was testament to that. He wasn’t going to cry on the more-or-less expensive food that he was going to pay for. Not today.  

He slapped the table, causing Woohyun hyung and Minzy to jump (and even a few people from the table beside them, but he didn’t particularly care). “I know it fucking sucks that we’re literally replacing Junyoung-sshi with someone else, much less an idol,” he started, shushing the two as they were about to retort to his remark. “But we are not brooding together in a public place! I know I’m a hypocrite, but let’s accept the new situation with open arms, like warriors!” 

Woohyun hyung just shook his head and looked away from Kyunghoon as he raised his voice. Minzy just looked shocked, but her mood already seemed to shift into something lighter than melancholy. It was good enough.  

He waited a few seconds for any of them to initiate conversation, but no one even opened their mouth. He was going to have to force it then. “Say, Minzy, what’s the latest news about Lee Teuk-sshi?” 

Perking up, she then went on a tangent regarding his latest instagram posts, bragging in his stead regarding the new products he was able to buy for his dog (what was it’s name? Cummie? Kool-aid?), though it wasn’t as vibrant as before. Woohyun also butted in her monologue, commenting how pointless it is to spend that much on a dog, which offended both Minzy and Kyunghoon and started a debate on how dogs are also in need of pampering, love, and affection. Woohyun hyung said something about how dogs weren’t capitalists and had no concept of materialistic needs and wants, which Kyunghoon conceded to, but Minzy countered with how humans were just bred into those concepts, and could just as well be the same for dogs. 

Their conversation, though very pointless, seemed to aid a few bruises that were hurting their friendship. They could miss the guy all they wanted, and Kyunghoon wanted to do just that, but he thought that his friends should be aware that life still goes on, and that they were still all right.  

A few more words shared later, they were all flushed with pink and swaying a little in their seats. Instead of the silence that they arrived with, it was replaced with laughter that came out of shallow jokes and old memories of embarrassment. Even for being just colleagues, they all consensually crossed the professional border of what they should know about their partners into a space where they could freely be the Fashion Police of Santa Radio.  

“Remmmember during the first days of the program,” Minzy slurred, pointing a lazy finger in his direction. “When you were so full of yourself?” 

Woohyun laughed hysterically then, throwing his head back and earning them one more outburst away from being kicked out by the staff in the room. Jesus, it wasn’t even that funny. 

Minzy snorted, and only then had he realized that he might’ve said his thoughts out loud. “Yeah right, ‘twas not funny! That’s only because you were the one doing it rather than witnessing it.” 

Kyunghoon just rolled his eyes. “Well, in all honestly, I was the best at writing –“ 

His hyung pfft-ed out loud, which just lowered Kyunghoon’s respect for the man even more. “Sure, baby,” he said mockingly. “Say that to my face again when we have a whole Kim Jonghyun working with us in this day and age.” 

He put his hand above his heart, feeling actual pain and wounded pride in his chest. Sure, he had to admit that the guy was just a born genius when it came to writing, but how dare they downplay his work when they wrote about different experiences. Yeah, their programs were both affiliated with the night, but that didn’t mean that they were on the same level to objectively have a comparison. And no, Kyunghoon was not bitter. He was just logical (even if he was making half-baked points while tipsy). 

“Though I find many things wrong with that statement, I’m not bothering to argue tonight,” And besides, Kyunghoon couldn’t hear himself that well anymore. Who knows that he might butcher his own argument on his tongue when it would have been perfectly crafted in his head. Also Woohyun was not one of those people Kyunghoon would argue with to impress. Hyung was too low-tier for that.  

Minzy wrinkled her nose at him, drawing close. “I bet you’re just afraid of losing,” she said. 

“As if,”  

But honestly, looking back (for the enth time since Junyoung’s departure), he was a massive dick. He wasn’t the Kyunghoon he was today seven years ago. That Kyunghoon had a jurassic ego that would give Seo Janghoon a run for his money. That Kyunghoon didn’t give a shit about what others thought about his script, and even cared less to edit it (but hey, his typos were limited to none).  

During his first program which was called “Somewhere in the Blue Sea”, he first worked as the assistant script-writer, learning things from Ji Euntak as he went along, developing his prowess in the radio field. Well, during that time, he wasn’t an asshole yet since he was just coming from extreme poverty and being a straight up rookie. He learned a lot from him, and eventually after a year and a half of being under his sunbae’s wing, he left to be the main writer in another, new program. 

This time, after working with the studio-wide proclaimed Goddess of Radio, he had enough ego to think that he didn’t need his teammates at all when developing the script and just putting out whatever work he had. In all fairness, their program did well (miraculously) despite the utter lack of communication between Kyunghoon and his producer then (whose name was forgotten on this night). It worked as well as it could until that producer was frankly, very tired of Kyunghoon lack of empathy towards the whole team and was scrapped from the production half a year later. Too bad that the program only lasted for the same amount of time after his departure, which Kyunghoon absolutely was not hoping for.  

After that program, no one was really looking forward to recruit him for a program, having already built himself a reputation (from his own blood, sweat, and tears of a bad bitch). Halfway into the previous program he was working on, is co-workers were unknowingly sending him death glares, and/or looks of disdain and disgust behind his back. Kyunghoon honestly couldn’t have cared less since it wasn’t technically affecting him in any way (and they couldn’t talk to him as long as he had the 15%+ rating badge on his chest). It was only after the disaster of a kick out when he was a little bit unnerved by the coldness and ostracization that was happening. At least he had Yejoon and Woohyun with him, but even they were kind of put off by Kyunghoon’s actions to be completely okay with him.  

They’d seen this happen before, Kyunghoon realized, and even then Kyunghoon had also brushed off those signs of pompous shittyness.  

It went on like that for about three months then, with him idly working for different programs as their script editor, or even writer in some situation when he was commissioned to do so by some other lazy ass scriptwriters. After all And then, the holy grail of his career was sent to him on a platter. 

Originally, their program wasn’t named as such, and was in no way near to the concept that they had today. They were the usual talk shows set up in the afternoon that invited multiple guests each session to raise their ratings, rather than the one-man talk shows that he had grown used to over the three years that he had been working in there. Hell, the program then (named “Hug the Radio”) didn’t have Woohyun-hyung as its producer but some other person that Kyunghoon hated enough to forget. He also pitied the younger Byun Baekhyun who was dragged into this mess, but hey, at least it didn’t flop as bad as to damage his career forever. 

This time, it was the mediocre producer that became the cause for the program’s rebranding due to low ratings and b-class guests (who Kyunghoon never really blamed, but he had to state facts). Their producer treated Minzy and Kyunghoon like minions really, and never really cared for their contribution as he would usually make material by himself (as if he was a trained scriptwriter or music major). He was the reason that the two of them in the first place, so maybe his massive dickheaded personality didn’t bear any good fruit.  

After two months under his ass, their studio met with the team separately, and that ended up with the producer and DJ switch (as to not further ruin the young boy’s prospect of success). There, Woohyun-hyung came in and saved the shit show from possible cancellation and into a better program. Due to his (long gone) respect for the man, Kyunghoon listened minimally to his input, but was still immovable when it came to any kind of criticism that came with his work. 

Junyoung had changed that, and Kyunghoon felt tears burn at the back of his eyeballs. Well, shit. But in all honestly, he had been through a lot with the two people in front of him, and he couldn’t wish for better friends in the world. 

Hands snapped in front of his eyes, breaking him out of his memories. “Yah, Kyunghoon-ah, did you sleep?” 

“Fuck off, I don’t even know,” he replied to his hyung, waving a hand to his face. He blinked the possible onslaught of tears away from his eyes. As if he was going to be a hypocrite when it mattered to the mood. “And here I was, thinking about complimenting you.” 

“Aww,” both he and Minzy cooed. Disgusting. 

 Woohyun-hyung then leaned back in his seat, massaging his forehead. “Guys,” he called. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.” 

Minzy then laughed, throwing  piece of chicken and hitting the man squarely in the head. “No shit, PD-nim,” 

Being the hungry son of a bitch he was, his hyung still picked the fallen piece of chicken up from his lap and ate it. He even offered the other half to Kyunghoon, which he slapped out of his hand. Even though he was a little woozy, he didn’t lose his selective morals of cleanliness and hygiene.  

He looked at his phone, which told him that it was already an hour after midnight. It was honestly getting late, but what Kyunghoon really wanted was to not pay the bill, so leaving early was extremely tempting right now. Kyunghoon was a weak man when it came to resistance, so he stood up and packed his things. 

“Are you leaving already, Kyunghoon?” Minzy asked him, lips turned down slightly in a frown. If he was a weaker man, he would’ve said he was just going to the bathroom and bail on his own plans.  

But he wasn’t. “Yeah,” he said truthfully. “I think my parents are worried about me already.” 

Woohyun didn’t even give a shit about him leaving, still touching his forehead like the drama queen he was. He merely just waved a hand in his direction. “At least I don’t have to carry your ass back home,” hyung said, not even opening his eyes. “But are you sure you can go back home safely?” 

He shrugged and hummed in response, which seemed to suffice for the both of them. Even Minzy was just busy stuffing her face with chicken. If only he could get both fast metabolism and an expensive gym membership. But in all truthfulness, he liked how the both of them weren’t that overbearing when it came to his well-being, especially since it was because they trusted himself enough to take care of himself.  

“Well then, I’m going,” he said in a sing-song manner. He waved lazily at them, smiling at their dazed appearances. “Drink responsibly!” 

He was still smiling as he wound his way towards the door. Damn, was the room getting smaller, or were the people getting bigger, or was his depth-perception just failing him? He would never know.  

He set one of his hands on the handle of the glass door, fumbling through his pocket for the money to the train home. There were three stops between here and his home, that gave him a reasonable price for the transportation from his office to home. It was another one of his reasons for trying out the position, actually.  

He hated how the more recent fashion items had the audacity to make small and shallow as shit front pockets, but – 

O omph.  

Well, they weren’t as audacious as the blind asshole who was blocking his way.  

His head was currently buried in the chest of either a flat-chested woman, or a man who was either dumb or impatient enough not to wait for Kyunghoon to make it out of the door before entering. Feeling both the alcohol and blood flowing through his veins, he let his pettiness win out of his pacifism and wanted to fight the shithead.  

He put his head up to look the brick wall in the face. “Well shit, man. I don’t know if you’refucking rushing or rude or – “ 

Apparently, he was Kim Heechul. Or at least a look-a-like, as far as he could tell with his blurry vision. Surprisingly, he was all of the above and not looking in the slightest mad, but on the contrary, just taken aback. Self-control was a good look on him. 

“Uhm…good evening, Min Kyunghoon-sshi,” 

Kyunghoon didn’t have the time for this as he felt the bile rising in his throat. 

He pushed past the bastard and ran. 

# 

Kyunghoon may or may have not been fuming when he dragged Minzy by the arm, out of the room. He couldn’t stand the big smile plastered on Woohyun hyung and the DJ to-be’s face at the moment.  

Minzy was sputtering something about their progressas she trailed on behind, but frankly, Kyunghoon was a little too deaf at the moment to process it, much less give a shit. The fact that the man was getting along with them a little too well with the team two days before they would even work together was unnerving. Hell, it had taken three weeks for him to warm up to Minzy despite her very amiable personality and warm smile. 

Once they had rounded the corner in a relatively idle corridor, Kyunghoon let go of her elbow and sneered. “Why does it feel like all of you have been friends for three years and I’m the newcomer who’s been left out of the ordeal?” 

The woman softened at the question, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know we’re not replacing you, right?” she asked kindly. “Hell, it’s been a day since we’ve gotten to know each other, Kyunghoon–“ 

Gotten to know each other?  

Kyunghoon let his eyes grow big and his jaw slacken. Minzy just furrowed her brows in response. “Yeah, we’ve been talking since last night,” she responded to his wordless question. Minzy was great like that. “After you left, we invited him to the table. After all, you said something about ‘acceptance’ or some shit, am I wrong?”  

He just shook his head in response, still taken aback. The actual snake had the audacity to make his way to his friends’ table and butter them up. He could imagine him now, giving his fake smile and his fake laughs and initiating half-hearted conversation while both Woohyun-hyung and Minzy were whole-heartedly buying into his act. He was doing the same on the table just a few minuted before he dragged Minzy off and he wanted to regurgitate everything he ate the moment prior. Fuck him.  

Aside from that, it was like Kyunghoon was watching his friends completely forget about Junyoung. It was as if they were content enough already with his replacement to accept him into the family right on the first day. Was he the only one who remembered that? Was one night of drinking with that stranger enough to do that? 

“Still I don’t think one or two hours of good conversation can bring you all to be as friendly as that,” he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. It didn’t sit right with him – the feeling that they were letting go too fast.  

She shrugged in response, letting her hand slide down his arm. “What can I say,” she said. “He’s a funny conversationalist, and we’re not all as closed off as you are, Kyunghoon.” 

He closed his jaw, giving her a glare. Well, she had a point. It took Kyunghoon longer to get accustomed to new people, professional relationships or not. Even longer if Kyunghoon willingly did not want the person in question to get close in the first place. When Woohyun & Co. had first met Kyunghoon, it had taken him a month and a half to break his first barriers with them, even when they were already closer than brothers. Kyunghoon was just precautious like that.  

“Fine, I’ll give you that,” he said half-heartedly. “But the three of you are getting on too well, it’s really suspi–“ 

“Kyunghoon, sweetie,” she said, patting the side of his face. He just pouted even more. “The four of us are actually going to be working together for as long as the studio would hope for. I think that a smooth beginning to a partnership would cause anyone harm, and as far as I know, it’s just talk and cooperation without him bribing us to do it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

He knew she was right, but Kyunghoon was someone petty who couldn’t get over his own emotional baggage for time immemorial. He opened his mouth to say something in return. 

Minzy put her finger on his lips, shaking her head softly. “And we haven’t forgotten nor replaced Junyoung, if that’s what you were going to say,” she said, effectively shutting him up. “We just want this new era of the program to flow smoothly, and if we keep forcing the pretense that he’s not accepted in the program yet…well it won’t be worth the waste.” 

Kyunghoon just sighed in response, all the fight leaving his veins once confronted with Minzy’s truth. Still, they didn’t know the man like Kyunghoon had gotten to know him (his hyungs’ words be damned), and Kyunghoon ultimately still wasn’t ready to ry and accept someone new in his work life. He could leave the congeniality and cooperation to the two of them. He could be open in another point in time.  

“You won’t talk to him yet, won’t you?” Minzy asked, a knowing look in her eyes. 

He just shook his head.  

She sighed, grabbing his elbow tight. “Let’s just go back so that we can get some professional progress going on in that room,”  

He followed her back to the room, where his very own traitor and the man of interest were still conversing about music, apparently.  

“Where were we?” Minzy asked brightly, patting (or shoving) Kyunghoon down to his seat next to Woohyun-hyung.  

Woohyun flashed a bright smile towards the both of them, caught mid-laugh. “Ah, we were just talking about how pedophilic YG’s ass really was,” he chuckled. “It’s nice to know that the people within the industry see the same.” 

“I’ve seen all there was to see,” the man agreed, a warm look in his eyes. It was almost genuine happiness, but Kyunghoon knew that maybe two weeks in the game, that look wouldn’t be seen again.  

Kyunghoon cleared his throat, ignoring the fact they’ve filled him in regarding their non-work related shit. “Well, have you briefed him regarding our routines and the like?” he asked, voice steady and looking only at Woohyun hyung.  

His hyung just waved a hand in response. “Yes, Minzy did that a while ago,” he said. “Weren’t you in the room then?” 

Kyunghoon didn’t blush, but his gaze did flicker a bit. “I think I went to the bathroom,” Or he was too angry to hear anything with the sight of the three of them making some inside jokes here and there, no big thing. Woohyun just gave him a knowing look in response, gaze flickering between himself and Minzy.  

“Well, what’s going to be our two topics for this week?” Minzy then probed, saving them from an awkward silence.  

“Actually,” the man then started, raising up a sheepish hand. “I have some suggestions, if that’d be alright. I know I’m just new here so it’s fine if you’d rather not.” 

He said it in a straight voice with his eyes showing naked confidence. Junyoung had started out sheepish when he was given the role, and didn’t involve himself as deeply as he later would until two months after his appointment. Well, this was an adjustment Kyunghoon hadn’t been ready to make. He was meeting the gaze of each member before he settled on Woohyun, waiting for his say. 

Relaxing his posture, Woohyun shrugged and gestured for him to start.  

Their DJ to-be gave a pleasant smile, and cleared his throat. Kyunghoon fought the urge to roll his eyes since it was as if he expected this to happen. He let him present his case.  

“Well, it might be a good decision if we were to provide an approach to connect with the audience that was brighter than what you usually present,” he proposed, eyes attentive to each of their non-verbal reactions. “You usually present their hardships descriptively, and that becomes the focus of the show before you propose the happiness that comes after each. I’d rather focus on the brighter part, if that’s okay. 

“You’ve presented the topics of grief, loneliness, heartbreak, and the like during the whole month,” he continued. “Though you were able to connect with the listeners through the common pain shared, it might be a good move to try and connect with them through the common pleasures and happiness of life…if you think it’s not a problem.”  

The man paused in his proposal, looking carefully at all their faces. Kyunghoon didn’t hold his gaze, and let it observe the reactions of his own teammates. Minzy was wearing a small smirk on her face, interest dancing in her eyes. When he looked to his right, Woohyun was looking straight at the other man, calculating.  

Honestly, the change that the guy proposed was sensible and would freshen up the program after almost eight straight shows (and possibly even more than that) of having the same aura. Frankly, though their listening rates were going on stably, if things were to freshen up a bit, it might garner a new, younger audience, since positivity usually resonates within them. It wasn’t a bad idea, and Kyunghoon could work with a change of scenario.  

When he heard his hyung hum, the corners of his lips quirking up, he knew that he thought the same. Who knew that the snake could actually have bravery that came with sense? Well, the guy worked in variety, so maybe he didn’t take all the credit for it.  

After seeing the approval that came with them (or something more akin to the lack of refusal from Kyunghoon), the man continued on with his proposal, suggesting that it would also fit better with the man’s image and voice that had a higher register compared to Junyoung. Once again, sadly, he wasn’t wrong.  

In the process of the meeting and discussion of all aspects, Kyunghoon was to write his two scripts revolving around the good side of change, and acceptance. They were both connected to each other, and it would also send out a message to the listeners (depending on what Kyunghoon would write). He was already typing his rough outline as they were speaking about the mood of the playlist and what they were to do for the interaction portion of the show. The idol was silently listening in as well, giving feedback and already being on the same wavelength as the team. 

In between the brainstorming that he was doing, he stole looks at the newest addition to their team.  

Kyunghoon could see the loose set of his shoulders, and feel the equally relief that oozed out of the man. Even though he had the fashion sense of a white teenager stuck in the early two-thousands, he was admittedly smart and sensible in the other aspects where he was needed. He couldn’t see the twenty-something idol that he remembered there as well as before, but then again, he could just be that good at keeping up looks.  

Kyunghoon couldn’t feel that arrogance that was in some idols that he saw in the high set of their chin or the look in their eye. He couldn’t hear the projected superiority that was in their tones when speaking to anyone who wasn’t in their world. He could see the apathy in the man’s eyes, since he didn’t give Woohyun-hyung or Minzy any dead looks. He couldn’t see the man that he knew, but he was sure that he had to be in there somewhere, buried under the laugh that sounded like crackling wood.  

He looked at Kyunghoon then, and he made no other movement. He could see curiosity in his eyes, and he could feel it coming at him in waves. That was the emotion that he predominantly felt, and Kyunghoon wanted to break out in a smirk. He didn’t. 

He kept the eye contact, searching for any signs of recognition, anger, or remorse even. He didn’t find any. Fear was also beginning to crawl up Kyunghoon’s arms, so he broke the eye contact.  

Kyunghoon was a stranger to him, was another mystery to be cracked. He hadn’t spared one word addressed to the man, while he in turn asked more than a handful (to which Minzy usually answered for him). To the idol, business almost always formally came with a shallow layer of personal knowledge at the instant, but Kyunghoon was only going to give him business for the time being.  

Shallow scars were still scars. Abrasions still bled and hurt when you get them, even though they almost never leave marks. Kyunghoon was used to the pain, and learned to live with it. He brandished those scars and never kept them hidden. He didn’t cover them up, and never bothered to forget. He wrote about them, and shared them to the world. 

Those who hurt never remember. They are always the untouched and unbothered. The victorious who win without a graze or a drop of sweat. He would never remember, and Kyunghoon hated every fiber in the other because of that.  

Kyunghoon couldn’t forget, no matter how much he tried to heal himself. His own body wouldn’t let him. 

He sucked in a hard breath, and felt his fingers stiffen to the slightest degree. 

He was going to be strong now, and he already was stronger than he had been. He wouldn’t let that man across him lay a finger on him. He couldn’t let him take any part of him anymore. He wasn’t the same as he was before, and he wasn’t going to get hurt anymore. 

Kyunghoon would let him be there, fine. Kyunghoon was going to let him do his work, and he was going to do his best to cooperate. The fight was not in him, no matter how much the hate clouded his vision and made it go red. He was better than that.  

Change was good and natural, and acceptance was key. Let the newness make you feel different, and let things go, he lied as he typed the exact words on the screen in front of him. 

October 2003  

The sad thing about being Kyunghoon was that he could feel all the emotions to the fullest. If he was happy, he would be the fucking laugh of the whole room, filling it in the warmth of the color yellow. When he was sad, he could feel the depth of the cold blue that was set heavy in his veins. If he was angry, his face would (sadly) literally burn red, and that usually caused the end of multiple friendships and months on end of detentions.  

At the moment, he was sitting with his back against the bathroom wall, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his thighs. He wanted to scratch at his thighs, or make the earth swallow him up at the moment. He didn’t want to go out of the cubicle. He didn’t want to place his hands on the mic. He couldn’t do it, in all honesty.  

A soft knock came at the other side of the door.  

“Kyunghoon-ah,” Seonghee hyung said, and Kyunghoon latched on to the softness of his voice and let it wrap around him warmly.  

“Just a minute, hyung,” he responded, inwardly cringing at how frail he sounded. His voice echoed how much he was cracking at the moment, and whoop-de-woo, wasn’t it just great. He let out a small breath, drawing his legs closer, fingers clutching tighter at his thighs. 

He felt a soft vibration from the door, which was probably his hyung resting his head against it. “Do you want me to stay there beside you, Kyunghoonie?” he asked.  

He let out a shaky laugh, but it came out more of a cough. It scratched at his throat, and his chest seemed to constrict more. “I would if I could,” leaving the but I can`t move unsaid.  

A hand settled on the small of his back, and it was drawing small circles on the soft fabric that clothed him. He wasn’t prepared for the fashion choices that were going to be made, and the sweat only made the cloth disgustingly latch itself onto him. He focused instead on his hyung’s touch, on it’s warmth and the reassurance that it communicated to him. He reached out for his hyung’s steadiness, and it came to him and filled his lungs.  

“You’re going to be alright, Kyunghoon-ah,” 

He took a deep breath at the words, just like they practiced. He repeated them in his head like a mantra.  

He saw the emptiness of the room, and the darkness staring back at him with a cruel smile on its face.  

“You’re going to do amazing, Kyunghoonie,” 

He felt the shame coloring his face, and the breaking of his heart at the sight. 

“Everything will be fine, Kyunghoonie,” 

He felt his voice giving out on him, and breaking the high note that was supposed to have been whole.  

“Everything is okay, Min Kyunghoon,” 

He saw his hyungs smiling at him as he looked back from where he stood. He heard the cheering of the crowd as they ended their song. He felt the vibrations that came of the speakers, and felt the familiar pattern of beats from the song they’ve practiced too many times. 

He felt his hyung’s hand on him, telling him that everything’s alright. 

Kyunghoon let out a breath, blinking away the sweat and tears that had begun to cascade down his pale face, ruining the make-up his noona put on. 

“You’re okay, Kyunghoonie,” 

He let out a breath. He was okay. 

# 

The sound of the crowd’s applause took his demons away, and he looked around at their faces. 

He was alright. It was all right. It was the beginning.  

Chapter Text

October 2018

It was ten in the evening on a Tuesday, two hours away from the deadline of their script, and some asshole just had to call him in this ungodly hour, ultimately breaking his train of thought. Wasn’t everything just so beautiful?

He banged his head on the table, causing a mini-earthquake to the citizens who lived on top of it (namely Mr. Penguin Pencil Holder and his very own laptop). He didn’t care about the pain that probably should have shot up his forehead, since the anger won out in the sensation meter. Not even bothering to take a look at the caller ID, he slid his finger to the right and put the phone in his ear.

“This better be urgent,” he seethed, glaring daggers at the window across him.

“Uhm,” Minzy sounded. “How bad of a time is this exactly?”

He rolled his eyes, typing the remnants of his sentence down with one hand. “It’s my visualization time, and you’ve ever so politely interrupted it,” he responded sweetly. Minzy gulped audibly through the phone. “But it’s a relatively okay time, so just continue.”

She took a few seconds to weigh her options before responding. “Well, we were wondering why you weren’t exactly coming to the office these past few days,” she probed. “And were spending your days in the convenience store all of a sudden.”

He craned his neck, which earned him a pleasing crack in return. “This is my way of working these days,” he says non-chalantly. “Ever since I’ve first written in the place, it seems like my writing comes easier due to the new environment.”

Minzy just hummed at the other end of the line, not at all convinced. Well shit, that was the honest to God truth! “Are you sure it’s not because of Heechul-sshi?” she asked in a knowing tone.

“Nope,” he said immediately, drawing out the vowel. He could feel the disbelief and concern dripping down her voice and coating her breaths.

Minzy scoffed. “You know the speed of your answer  kind of a giveaway, right?” she asks again, trying her hardest to squeeze her version of the truth out of him.

“God, yes!” he responds, indignant. “It’s really just easier to write there with all of the environment I see out there! You’ve lived in our office, so tell me you aren’t tired of hearing the shitty aircon making all the noise for all of us.”

She clicked her tongue. “Well, you do have a point,” she said, placated by Kyunghoon’s responses. “Are you sure, though? I mean, we only get to see and talk to you for half of the day before you stalk off to that 7/11. Might I add, that’s the same time he usually comes to visit the office on occasion.”

Kyunghoon fights rolling his eyes in favour of proofreading his own work. “Yes,”

“Suit yourself,” she just says in response. “Is there anything I can help you with though?”

Kyunghoon just ends the call and sets down his phone on the table, bringing back all his focus to the task at hand.

In actuality, Kyunghoon was already done with the script. Hell, he finished it and edited it with a whole day to spare. He didn’t really know why, but something about the past few days were putting him off and making him think that his work had been inadequate. He was kind of thinking it was the man’s fault.

Their debut show for the Universal Star was received with brightness and acceptance, his fans already crowding outside the studio, faces literally pushed against the glass. Kyunghoon didn’t know how exactly soundproof it was, but damn it had to be the best one in the world. Their support for Heechul was radiant, and he might have latched onto the feeling in order to be distracted from the proximity present between the man and himself.

It was a success, and there were also positive comments littering social media regarding how glad they were to have listened to the program that night, especially since they thought it was fitting for the man’s first appearance as DJ. He ignored the fact that the idol had suggested it, and focused more on the part that admired its construction and wording. He made that. He was proud.

The second show continued in the same positive fashion, but when the next week rolled in, he could feel that the positive energy didn’t just benefit him.

Much like the nosy (yet productive) bastard he suspected the guy was, he made sure to contribute when it came to every aspect of the show, no matter how small. It was as if his popularity (which might have literally been universal, as their ratings shot up 23%, which was huge) wasn’t contributing enough when it came to bringing in listeners, and he still wanted to do more.  This came in the form of constructive criticism regarding his script, and yes, honestly, the bastard’s input was actually helpful, but it felt like too much for Kyunghoon.

He didn’t like it when people were too involved in something to the point like he felt like something wasn’t his anymore, but the intellectual property of someone else. Maybe he was just thinking about it too much, but the positivity and will to help that exuded out of the other man’s mouth felt too genuine for it to not be fake.

Every time that he was there (which was Tuesday afternoon, Wednesday morning, and the whole of Thursday and Friday), he would come too close to Kyunghoon and asked questions. He wasn’t used to how interwoven the man wanted to be in an assignment that wasn’t explicitly his. Kyunghoon didn’t know if this was because his lack of trust in his own work, or his hunch on the fact that the man was just this extra when it came to exerting effort. He didn’t know.

When there were new colleagues, Kyunghoon didn’t really bother to analyze them or exert any effort to, since most of them gradually and steadily imposed themselves on him. That was the way he was used to, and it was also the way that gave him the most comfort. He liked the fact that he couldn’t feel anything from them (aside from the low tremor of hesitation and slight dab of fear in their posture, since Kyunghoon sadly had a resting bitch pout).

He didn’t like the fact that he could feel everything from the man. It was too much. He was too open.

Kyunghoon wanted all of his doors highly guarded like the Blue House, yet the man was the polar opposite, like a park with one average-sized treehouse or two in the center.

When the second week of October came, marking the third week they would have been in the partnership of the man and themselves, Kyunghoon couldn’t stand it as well, the vibrations of annoyance and irritation being too constant at his spine. In order to compromise, he would spend around an hour or two in the office at the morning, then when he would make his way to lunch, he’d just stay in the convenience store, or position himself in one of the park benches that were scattered all over the back of their building. This routine only differed for Mondays, and of course those nights when he needed to be in the studio for the live broadcasting of their show.

He wasn’t lying when he had told Minzy that he needed a change of environment and scenery, since the man was part of that environment. It was better this way, and he thought he was being subtle in his escapades out. Well, she had always been perceptive when it came to the negative emotions.

Kyunghoon rubbed at his eyes, and was already getting tired of the amount of squinting he was doing these days. Resigned and slightly pained, he reached for his (not fucking fake) glasses and put them on, shoulders relaxing at the newly high-definition world around him. He turned back to the script, which he was embellishing a little bit more.

With most of his recent scripts coming solely from himself without the input of others (except Woohyun because the man would actually come in to bother him wherever he was), his biggest critic was back to being himself rather than the DJ who’d only been there for three weeks. Junyoung would frown if he saw him now, but hell it wasn’t the same.

He didn’t know himself how long he would be like this. Even though he had told himself that he was stronger, Kyunghoon didn’t know whether or not he was ever going to be ready to share a conversation with the man whose breath made him want to run.

–the wind blew through the backstage curtains, and he saw the same, slim profile he saw when he closed his eyes. He hid. ‘I can’t believe people like them really believe that they can make it out of here and break into the spotlight,’ he said, back turned on where Kyunghoon was hiding. He shivered as he heard the poison and disdain laced in his words. He couldn’t stand how far those words buried themselves deep in his mind and heart. It was like those words were directed at him–

He faintly heard the sound of his mother’s footsteps make their way up, and Kyunghoon immediately was tuned to the warm, pink ribbon that was tied between them. He clung to it, and wrapped himself around it, mind immediately leaving the place it was in before. He loved his mother. She loved him too. Kyunghoon liked that a lot.

“Hoonie,” Mom said as she reached the door frame. He turned around to take a look at her, and she smiled in return. He let the feeling cloak and warm him again. “Dinner’s already down there, so stop typing away there.”

He gave her a half smile, immediately rising up from his seat and making his way down to his own world of oranges and yellows.

#

“I don’t know about you,” Woohyun hyung started, staring at him from across their (yes, their) table at Kyunghoon’s 7/11. “But I feel like you’re more detached from the script based on the ones I’ve been receiving lately.”

Kyunghoon raised a quizzical eyebrow at the other, since he was honestly confused. “What do you mean?”

As far as he noticed, he was actually getting his scripts done faster with the same amount of effort that he usually did. He still conjured up some pictures in his mind and eloquently put them into words, and that’s honestly the bulk of what makes Kyunghoon’s scripts worthy of being read. He didn’t understand how detached Kyunghoon could be with what he was making when he was literally doing all of the work on his own. What was his hyung playing at?

Woohyun hyung just hummed in response, popping in another chip in his mouth. Did the asshole have to be so cryptic when he was literally the one who asked the question? If he was trying to make Kyunghoon realize something right now, the man would honestly have to pack up and leave. He paused the second episode of Reply 1997 for the bastard and he was going to have to pay up if his time watching had to be postponed like this.

Kyunghoon was just about to put up his laptop screen again when his hyung spoke.

“Ironically, it’s the fact that the work seems more self-centered,” he begins, eyes gleaming with interest seeing that Kyunghoon was looking at him now. “That I feel like you’ve been more disconnected with what you’re writing.”

He scoffed, not appreciating how riddle-like his hyungs answer sounded. “If you’re trying to regain some of that lyric writing powers somewhere in there,” he replied, pointing at his hyung’s forehead (since he sadly had no brain). “then I think it’s a lost cause. And also, it’s not uncommon for me to ground my work on past experiences.”

Hyung’s lips pulled down in a skeptic frown. “That’s right, but you usually choose more common and subtle ones,” he countered, biting into the center of his chip.

He cocked his head to the side. “What’s so different about the recent ones? Aren’t the feelings of triumph and accomplishment common when people get to perform on stage? Isn’t there an American quote about life being on a stage or something?”

“Though the sentiment is a little similar, you’ve got it mixed up,” his hyung said, frowning. Well, shit he wasn’t an English Literature major, so. “And by that, I mean this is the closest you’ve been to revealing something about that time.”

He shot up, eyes wide. Well, shit.

Woohyun’s face brightened. “Now we’re on the same page,” he observed, licking his fingers one by one.

He felt the blood rushing to his ears, and his windpipe seemed to shut down all of a sudden. How had he gotten so careless and let go this much? It’s been a fucking month. Was he really playing himself?

Woohyun extended his hand, and Kyunghoon only moved a finger to touch hyung’s own. “It’s alright, Kyunghoon,” he said, voice warm. “Since I was sure you were pretty spaced out, I thought I would be best for you to know what your subconscious has been doing.”

He let out a strangled breath. “Well, my subconscious is a dirty, scheming whore,” he remarked, which earned him a chuckle from the other across him.

Hyung hummed, and tapped on his extended finger. “Yejoon noticed it first actually,” he informed, offering some chips to him. “I didn’t think much of it because, yes, it was a good metaphor in the first place, but he noticed that it came a little close to what we used to experience. Do you remember what you wrote?”

He shook his head. Woohyun gave him a small smile.

“The shouts and applause of the people are enough to drive away the fears of yesterday,”

–they were all cheering right here, just for him. For them. For the five of them. Kyunghoon felt all of their love and support, and he wasn’t ever going to have enough of that feeling. With all the lights raining down upon him just like they have been for four years now, there was still nothing that was going to make him get accustomed to the radiance of their fan’s bright eyes trained straight on them–

Kyunghoon felt the burn at the back of his eyes. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t see right. There was a white noise surrounding the room, and he couldn’t hear the ringing of the store bell, the hum of the air conditioner, or the tap tap tap of his hyung’s boot on the floor.

He wasn’t there – he was drawn back into that moment. He was overwhelmed with the same emotions he felt then, now almost eight years ago, and they were oh, so fresh and alive within its heart. His heart was beating just as fast as it had been then, and he was panting like he was then. He couldn’t bring his lips to smile, but he knew that it was on his face (probably his eyes).

If he tried hard enough, he could hear the cheers within the flat, white noise that rung in his ears. If he squinted hard enough, he could see the silhouette of his fans right there over the distance. It was so close – the moment was so close to him.

A warm hand wrapped around his sweaty hand, and he focused his energy on it. He focused it on the calm, blue pulse that resonated below the skin, and tried to tune himself to it. He felt the hum of contentedness that ignited the man’s fingertips. He grounded himself on that feeling.

He withdrew from that memory. He blinked the dewy moisture out of his eyes, and he could see his hyung’s face clearly, giving him the same whole smile that he was that day as well. He was here in the now, and he could still feel that warm presence here. He was okay.

“Damn,” he breathed, gripping his hyung’s hand tighter. “Now I see why Yejoon hyung thought I couldn’t write that with a sober mind.”

Woohyun rolled his eyes, stroking circles into the soft part of his palm. “He thinks that he’s so perceptive sometimes,” he said. “It would just fuel up his ego more if I told him he was right.”

Kyunghoon snorted as he felt his lungs relaxing. “Yeah, well,” he said. “It’s nice to know that my hyungs have my head when I don’t exactly have it screwed on.”

The other winked. Even though it would have also made him want to barf, it made him crack a little smile. It was just the same, but everything was a little different. He was alright.

Kyunghoon hummed a little bit, and it hurt his heart a little to do so. “You know,” he started, counting silently in his head in order to steady his breathing. Woohyun’s constant tapping was also helping him do that. “I really do miss those days. I would give everything to bring things back to the way they were.”

Hyung just started at him after he said that, and every part of his body seemed to be frozen except his fingers on Kyunghoon’s hand. He was staring straight into Kyunghoon’s eyes, so he took it as an invitation to feel. So that he did.

–the exhilaration he felt pulsing through his body was unlike any other, and he couldn’t stop smiling as he played his guitar. The chords and strumming patterns were instinctual to him at that point, and the music came out naturally from the tips of his calloused fingertips. He looked around and saw the equally happy faces on his friends. He looked forward and saw all the bright lights shining down on him. He heard the beautiful harmony of the crowd’s chants and their song blasting from the speaker. There was nothing in life that was more spectacular than this moment and–

He broke the contact, looking instead at their intertwined hands. It was Kyunghoon’s turn to anchor Woohyun down, and he let his hand soothe the other’s arm. He drew patterns of different kinds, but all swirly and soft, which always calmed his hyung down. He couldn’t bring himself to look back at him. It was all so raw.

At the tap of his hyung’s two fingers on his wrist, he stopped. “You’re not the only one who thinks so.”

#

Once the red light of the “on-air” sign was shut off, Kyunghoon was making his way out of the recording studio, not even sparing a glance at the man beside him. Even though Kyunghoon thought the man might’ve tried to initiate any sort of communication outside of their professional bounds, he didn’t, and the recording sessions passed like that.

He paid extra attention to his script this time of the week. He wasn’t going to let himself be too vulnerable again, and he couldn’t stand to make is script like the one he had made then. The radio wasn’t somewhere he could write his autobiography, but it was a place that was for the listeners to find themselves in what he was saying. He couldn’t make this about himself.

Kyunghoon wasn’t used to slipping up like this before, and Kyunghoon didn’t know why he did that shit in the first place. Damn, he didn’t even notice how really detatched he was – not just from his work, but from himself as well. Sure the days seemed to merge together sometimes, and his honest to God sense of time was a little bit wonky at times, but Kyunghoon didn’t think he was that brain dead when it came down to it.

Fuck his hyungs and how perceptive they were regarding him. It was too unnerving. It was testament to how in-tune they were with each other, and Kyunghoon got kind of sad at how he was in-tune with utter assholes at times. Well, you win some you lose some.

Maybe it was the solitude that was doing Kyunghoon dirty. In all truth, he wasn’t used to working alone as often as he was now. After the three years he spent with Woohyun, Minzy and the occassional Junyoung, he was more used to the presence of either one of them while he was working, and only availing of the convenience store when a script was completely hopeless (since Shin Ramyeon fueled both creativity and the suspected worms living inside his intestines).

Maybe he should revert back to his regular appearances in the office. The clingy beast that had unsuspectedly crawled out of his system needed to be satiated, and Kyunghoon could suppress his emotions (though however difficult it could be) if the need arise. He let a breath out, and took a seat next in between Woohyun and Minzy, patting them at the back.

“Wow,” Minzy noted. “You’re not trying to Usain Bolt your way out of the studio this time.”

Woohyung gave Kyunghoon a suspicious look partnered with a smile. “What do you want Kyunghoon?”

He looked far off somewhere to the right, feigning contemplation. “What do you mean, hyung?”

They both rolled their eyes at him, and Minzy poked him in the side. He jumped from his seat, and gave her a dirty look. She just continued to level her gaze with him – no remorse in sight. He tried looking at Woohyun for any sign that he would reprimand her. It wasn’t there.

“I’m serious!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around himself for protection. “I don’t want anything!”

Minzy laughed, without mirth. “After almost a week and a half of radio silence you come here and act chummy,” she commented. “Our peer relationship withered and died within that time.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t a man want time alone?”

Woohyun hollered at his words. “Kyunghoon, sweetie,” he started, smile menacing on his face. “For the longest time I’ve known you, and you’ve never once lasted this long without being clingy to at least one of us.”

Kyunghoon opened his mouth to retaliate (since there were certainly times when he healthily desired me-time), but he didn’t find it in him to spare the effort. Yejoon hyung kept a lot of receipts, and sadly had a great memory. Woohyun was the second in that department. He couldn’t risk it.

Instead, he just slumped back on the swirly chair where he was sitting. “Fine, fine,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about being back in the office again, so that’s just a heads up that I won’t tolerate any idol-worshipping from either of you while I’m there.”

Minzy rolled her eyes. “We don’t do that,” she replied. “But I guess you wouldn’t know since you’re not there most of the time.”

“I have a condition of my own as well,” Woohyun hyung said, pointing a finger in between Kyunghoon’s eyes. “You’ve been very active in our KKT group chat ever since you’ve been gone, and I don’t expect that to change now that you’re going to be a slob in the white room again.”

He just waved a hand at his hyung, closing his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll make sure of it,” he said. He glanced sidewards to Minzy. “Do you have any conditions?”

Minzy just shook her head, arranging the papers in front of her. “It’s settled.”

Kyunghoon breathed out a sigh, and looked toward the recording booth. The man was still there, looking pointedly at the script that he just recited, paying them no mind from the control room. Woohyun noticed him, and answered the unasked question in the air.

“Yeah, he does take that long after the show,” he said. Kyunghoon raised an eyebrow, and he continued. “He says that he just wants to look over what he did on the show, critiquing himself for what he did right and wrong for the show.”

He hummed. “In all honesty, I think that the listeners like everything he says and does during the program, so I don’t see what’s the point,”

Woohyun looks away from the man and sets to fixing his own stuff. “I don’t either, but I let the guy do what he wants,” he said. “We usually leave before him, since he told us to, but during the first shows we waited up for him. He takes like, an hour in there.”

He let his gaze turn back to the man, lingering. For how physically close they’ve been during the program, Kyunghoon has never felt any doubt vibrating through the man’s skin. There had only been the strong aura of confidence in whatever the man was saying and how he said it. He also radiated comfort and kindness whenever they would have the listeners call them during the program. He thought that it just came innate to the man, with how full of himself he thought he was, but now maybe it was because of how much he did prepare before shows.

Then again, maybe the bastard just stayed to please the fans watching him from the outside. It could go both ways.

“Should we go out for a drink?” he asked, which earned him smiles from both of his friends.

They left the man with the light in the control room on, making their merry way to the restaurant a block away.

#

On Tuesday afternoon, Kyunghoon was gearing himself up for some attention coming from the man. He was already preparing himself to answer generic questions, and most of all, preparing himself to create a wall between himself and everyone there (no matter how much Woohyun would goad him to spit out one or two words, he would resist).

He had made a list of rules for him to follow when he was in the room, effective the second the man would step inside the room:

1. Don’t try to look at anyone in the room (especially the asshole’s eyes),
2. Don’t even move to eat the food, since there might be a Ruth-Goldberg list of possible and terrible events that were just waiting to happen,
3. Silently do your goddamn job,
4. Don’t be too bratty and a bother, and
5. Be fucking professional no matter how unprofessional this seems.

It was fool-proof. It was a post-it on his laptop.

“Why do you look so constipated again, Kyunghoon?” Minzy asked him. She put a hand on the small of his back, massaging it slightly.

Kyunghoon accepted the touch, leaning to it. “And here I thought our friendship withered and died,” he commented. Minzy gave him a look but continued to massage him there.

“Being kind and being a friend are mutually exclusive,” she joked, to which Kyunghoon rolled his eyes. “And after all, it was weird having your chair uncreased for how many days.”

Kyunghoon just hummed, looking up the definitions of multiple deep and pretentious words that he would be using this week. They were still going on the same concept that Heechul proposed, since the emotions that came with change were various and actually a vibrant change from the mellow black-and-whites that Kyunghoon used to write.

He hated how it was a nice concept suggested by a not-so-nice man.

With continued strokes on his back by Minzy, he slowly concentrated and continued from where he left off writing.

–a hand within his, and he relished in the warmth that just one small touch seemed to seep through the frozen veins in his body. They held his smaller hand tightly, as if they would refuse to let go, even if it were to be the apocalypse and letting go would be the only way to save them both. Their first touch seemed to speak thousands of words in his mind, and he could help but smile.

The park around them showed vibrant colors of red, orange, yellow, and green. They were all coming to life and dancing before his eyes, and he had never seen something like this before. The reds were burning right in front of his eyes, and their heat coursed through his body just like the red of their lips as they touched his skin. The oranges bloomed as they shone in his eyes, just like the orange that was seen in their hair. The yellows sang to his ears, just like the vibrant print on their clothes.

The greens were different, but just as alive. They were calmer and more collected. They soothed him from within and allowed him to breathe just a little better. He could see that green within their eyes, and their relationship wasn’t just full of the rush and dynamics of life, but also the calm and placid hum of peace that came with comfort.

It was the perfect balance that he found within the person beside him. The stability was what he needed to get used to the now, and to help the change build and not destroy him. He needed the reassurance that not everything would change, and that somethings would stay the same.

He had that now, and that was amazing. It was all happy within him. He had everything as long as he had them to stabilize him – to neutralize the chemical reaction that was happening from within.

They would be there to control whatever flux that was happening to him, and they would encapsulate him in this embrace until–

He heard the door crack open, and he already broke the first rule of his own making.

His eyes grew wide at the appearance of the man, wearing the worst items of clothing imaginable. At the recognition of another face in the room that was not Woohyun hyung, the man’s shoulders tightened a bit, but didn’t allow himself any other movement that conveyed his surprise. Leisurely, he sat on the chair across from him, and smiled brightly at the both of them.

Kyunghoon’s windpipe tightened, and he turned back to focus on his script.

“Hey, Heechul-sshi,” Minzy greeted, hand not retracting from his back. Her stroked remained steady, but applied more force as she noticed Kyunghoon’s body tense. “Woohyun PD’s out there somewhere, looking for Yejoon-sshi probably.”

The man hummed in response, and Kyunghoon hated the chill that came up his spine. He should be more immune to this by now, after hearing the man hum in the recording room multiple times now. He should be better than this by now.

He silently let out a breath, yet he could feel his eyes on him. Kyunghoon pretended to squint and move closer to the laptop to read a word, shielding himself from any sort of piercing gaze. Minzy’s hand was still there, and he wondered why he hadn’t asked any questions even though she knew that he wasn’t used (an understatement) to the man’s presence. Maybe she just chalked it up to him missing Junyoung and not being able to let go. Only half of that was true, if that was indeed what she deduced.

A silence passed through the room, and Minzy started to pull out her laptop and earphones. Kyunghoon followed the fashion, putting on his earphones to the highest volume and listening to his “old school” playlist. Fuck Minzy.

Minzy seemed to be discussing her most recent picks for their show on Thursday, and also their social media exposure and the like. Over the boom of his music, he couldn’t make out the exact words from either party, but in reality he also didn’t know much about either, so it wasn’t in his best interest to eavesdrop.

His concentration was dampened by the fact that he was trying not to pay too much mind to the man across him, so all that he could do for the time remaining would be to edit and re-arrange whichever parts of the program that were already written. He could do that well, so half of his mind drifted to the fact that he may be able to feel others emotions fully and control when to do it or not, yet he couldn’t do that with his own. At the moment, it was a degree frustrating.

He had never felt the need to try and develop a wall against someone so strongly, or try to shield his emotions as much as he did now. He never really thought about it, but when he did, he just assumed that maybe it could just come out naturally. It didn’t so Kyunghoon was here, trying his best to steady his heartbeat while not being too obvious that he was doing so.

Maybe he would try later, when the pressure wasn’t threatening his lungs to collapse within him, so for now, all that was left was suffering. Great.

After an hour or so of looking like there was a frog in his mouth, he was actually getting used to it, and he relaxed a little bit. His heart rate seemed to drop to a more or less human rate, and he had stopped sweating like a waterfall existed instead of his sweat glands. He almost forgot that the man across from him existed, and that was enough for him to function.

He took off his jacket, since his skin was screaming at him to let them breathe after being too moist, and he did so. Only then did he notice that Minzy’s hand on his back was gone, and so was she. It was just him and the man, who was looking him straight in the face. He didn’t know how long he was staring, but Kyunghoon gulped and felt the coldness gripping his arms.

The man seemed to be speaking, so out of professional respect, he took out one of his earphones and paused the music, raising an eyebrow. His vocal cords still seemed to be stiff.

“I said that she went outside to look for Woohyun PD,” he repeated, face blank and wide eyes still staring at him. Kyunghoon opted to stare back and resist taking a look. “Apparently he’s been out for too long and she’s worried that he’s passed out in Yejoon-sshi’s room or something.”

Kyunghoon nodded in a fluid motion, and mouthed something that he thought might’ve been a ‘thank you’ before going back to look at his document. He hummed casually, and thought to ask another question.

“How long has she been out?”

The man looked a little amused as he stifled a chuckle. “Have you really not noticed?” he asked, seemingly genuinely. “Maybe about half an hour. Why?”

He thought to shrug as an answer and that would have been the end of the conversation, but the fucking bastard knew no bounds when a conversation had been started. The other leaned in close, trying to get a look at his laptop screen. The sudden proximity made him freeze in his spot.

“Are you done yet?” he asked innocently, eyes wide. “Maybe I could give you some pointers? It’s fine if you say no, by the way.”

He felt his chest clench tight, and the sudden feeling of possessiveness dared to tackle both he and the man by the neck. He remembered how much the man had been able to influence the only thing Kyunghoon had total control over, yet, he also remembered how he had let him. Quality was something that improved when a second eye gave new pointers to him, but it was different for him.

He damned the man silently at how casual he asked the question. He wanted to slit his tongue out of that mouth that allowed him to not take the opportunity. He hared how the man seemed to know why Kyunghoon felt the way he did to some extent, and allowed him to say no.

He liked to take advantage of some forms of kindness that were offered to him, yet he was also appalled to some expressions of the thing that seemed almost pitiful. He didn’t know where this one stood, and frankly, his throat still itched. Every thought and consequence seemed to be flying past his mind in the speed of light as the seconds passed, and he didn’t know if he was that ready for what the man was offering.

Then, Kyunghoon remembered that he was taught to put himself first. His hyungs had told him that, and emphasized that being a doormat was ‘so fucking stupid, Kyunghoonie, you’re better than that’. Right now, he was going to follow them.

Rather than saying a few words, he just shook his head lightly, pursing his lips. The other man nodded his head in turn, and without a flinch, sat back down on his chair. He flashed a thin, small smile at him, and that immediately sent him a flash of warmth through his veins, communicating that he was okay.

Kyunghoon shivered at that, taken aback. But then, he remembered the civil work relations that he was supposed to be keeping up and gave a small smile back. This relationship was going to be based on a tit for a tat. Whatever one would give, the other would have to give back in the same regard. It was piggy-backed by the fact that Kyunghoon didn’t want to be indebted to the last guy that he should be, and that settled it.

He started to hear the footsteps of both Minzy and Woohyun hyung approach the door, which immediately loosened his muscles to an extent.

“...honestly, I don’t understand why you couldn’t keep it in your pants enough to do it right there,” Minzy was whisper-shouting, fingers threatening to pull out her own hair. “I don’t even have enough bleach in my house to erase that from my eyes!”

Woohyun hyung looked calmer than Minzy did, yet his appearance was quite disheveled. Aside from that, the small smile was telling enough for Kyunghoon to know that, yes, Yejoon hyung did just fuck his very own Woohyun hyung. Kyunghoon let both the disgust and disappointment show on his face.

What were fucking boundaries for the two of them? Even though their sex was casual that didn’t mean their shit-giving had to be too.

The warm intonations of smugness, embarrassment, and amusement filled the room, and Kyunghoon allowed them in his system as he felt himself grow softer on the inside. A small smile played on his lips, and as he looked to the side, someone else had it on as well.

#

The blue moonlight bathed the empty street in front of Kyunghoon’s house in a soft glow. There was the soft grumble of midnight traffic echoing from the walls, but other than that, there was nothing else making noise. All their neighbors were asleep, and the vines on the wall were the only other living creatures that accompanied him tonight.

He let out a breath and shivered, seeing his own little air puff disparate in front of him. Well, now that there was nothing to do, and the soft vibrations of alcohol traveling through his veins, he might as well find an answer to his question.

“Kyunghoon, sweetie, everyone loves you, but it’s 2AM, and I have kids to pamper in the morning,” he heard the scratchy tone of Seonghee hyung’s voice through the speaker. Kyunghoon couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the drama. “So what do you want?”

He hummed as a greeting. “Well, I’m sorry but this might be a long conversation,” he started.

Something that sounded akin to a cow’s moo was his first response. “Did you get someone pregnant, Kyunghoon-ah?” he asked in a shrill tone.

“Pfft, do you really think?” he asked, making sure his genuine, mocking laugh coated his words.

Seonghee hyung let out a sigh of relief at that, and seemed to groan and yawn a little before talking. “Well, you gave me a heart attack for a little while there, so I’m awake,” he said. “What did you want?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling a sudden flush of embarrassment. “Well, hyung, you’re a psychologist – or psychiatrist, whatever – right?”

He heard the exasperated sigh that came out of his hyung’s mouth. “I bet that my sic year-old PhD established that for the both of us didn’t it?”

Kyunghoon furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, yeah, well,” he grumbled. “Well, how do you teach your patients to block out their feelings?”

Seonghee hyung stifled a laugh, the connection making it sound more gravelly that it should have. “I usually tell them the opposite actually,” he pointed out, and something that sounded like a coffee machine made noise in the background. “But why are you asking this, Kyunghoonie?”

He brought his parka closer to his body, feeling the sudden gush of wind send goosebumps running wild on his skin. “Well, I’ve been thinking about how I can’t really stop myself from feeling things,” he started. “And it’s weird how that happens even when it’s easier to feel everything on the contrary.”

His hyung hummed, and then paused a bit. He could almost see the contemplative look that is on his face right now. “That’s a good question, Hoonie,”

He put on a smug smile on his face. “You all should give me more credit sometimes,” he joked.

“Well, I feel like we’re giving you too much already,” he joked back, and that sent a chuckle out of his system. “But there’s this method that we sometimes use when it comes to younger patients when we want them to try and control their fear, and stuff like that. Do you think that applies?”

Kyunghoon shrugs, and he thinks that Seonghee hyung could sense it, since the man continues right after.

“When I’m dealing with children suffering from things akin to mild trauma, I ask them to lock those bad memories out of their mind. They could either bury them in a hole, lock them in a cabinet, or do something like that in their own creative way,” he answers, professional voice taking over. “After a few sessions, when they’re more adjusted, I ask them to let their fears out of where they’ve hidden so that they can deal with them in a more collected manner. It’s something like that.”

Kyunghoon hums in response, pursing his lips. “That might work,” he said. “So like I’ll basically use my imagination to lock out my emotions and deal with them later?”

He hears the offended breath that leaves his hyung’s mouth. “If you put it in a plebeian manner, yes,” he conceded. “But there’s another method that might help.”

“What?”

“Simply avoid the stimulus that causes you to feel the uncontrollable stimulus,” he pointed out, and Kyunghoon could feel his hyung smiling. “And by that, just avoid Kim Heechul.”

Kyunghoon had to clap a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. “What makes you think –“

“I know that he made you who you are today, and to some extent, us too,” hyung started. “And I know that you’re not a hundred percent okay after that happened, all right? I don’t want you exposed to someone who did all those terrible things to you, though I also believe that maybe he has changed. That trauma is not something easily moved on from, and I understand that, so maybe you should give yourself time.”

A few moments of silence passed before he could respond. “I don’t want to make Woohyun hyung worry too much,” he said silently. “And I also want to function normally while I work with him. I’m never going to move on, so the next best thing to do is compromise. This is compromise.”

Seonghee hyung heaved a sigh, and seemed to be sipping his coffee. “I know you know yourself Kyunghoon, and I trust you,” he said. “Just do what you think you must, but not to the breaking point. I don’t want to see you here again, know that.”

“I’d be offended, but I sadly know what you mean,” he said, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “But thank you hyung, I know what I’m going to do.”

After a bout of silence, Seonghee chuckled lightly on the receiver. “I never thought I’d see you trying to compromise for Kim Heechul of all people,” he said.

He just rolled his eyes, but there was no lie in his hyung’s words. He really was here, breathing, and trying his best to be able to associate with people, that would mostly benefit the other man. “This is also for me, you know?”

“I do, I do,” hyung responded. “But just know that you don’t need to try too hard, since it is okay for you to still feel the way you do.”

He sighs in reponse. “Well, I don’t want to experience the symptoms of an attack whenever I’m within his presence.”

Seonghee hyung hummed. “I’m here, Kyunghoon,” he added. “You know that right?”

“I know hyung, see you sometime,”

He set the phone down on the empty spot of the bench next to him, breathing the cold October air.

#

Small talk turned out to be the new burden when Kyunghoon made his ass back to the office. After the small exchange he and the man had on Tuesday afternoon, it seemed like an invitation for the other to keep on trying (and failing) to make Kyunghoon say a few more things that weren’t professional or pleasantry. He was annoyed to an extent.

On Wednesday, the man seemed to have small conversation starters stuffed up his sweater sleeve and kept on trying them on him on different times all throughout the day. On Thursday, the man approached him in order to ask for his opinion regarding the delivery of the script. During the music breaks as well, he would attempt to probe Kyunghoon for the same thing. On Friday, their (read as: his) banter was found at the end of the broadcast, when he asked Kyunghoon regarding how he felt about the concept that they had on-going.

Kyunghoon answered politely, since the man was also asking in polite earnest, yet he also managed to keep them clipped and straight to the point. It was honestly the most that he had exchanged with the other, and each day seemed to be more than the last.

He didn’t know what the other man had to gain by speaking to him and asking those questions to him (since he could easily get the same answers from Woohyun hyung with even more detail), yet Kyunghoon was actually gaining something from this. He was becoming more comfortable with the other man in an extent that was appropriate for Kyunghoon. Though they may not be friends, they were already something close to peers and that was great for his system.

He no longer needed to sink or curl into his chair as much, yet he still did. It was easier to allow the man’s eyes to be on him without him sweating as much. Kyunghoon was also able to make his vocal cords function, which was actually the thing that was most ideal about the situation.

He was learning how to control himself, and Seonghee hyung’s advice seemed to be working as far as he knew. He would pack up all his emotions, and then deal with them when he came back home, drowning them in Mom’s cooking and Dad’s rants about their neighbors. It was all fine, and it surprisingly allowed him to write with a clearer mind throughout the days.

All was good.

It was Monday again, and it was the day when he was able to breathe easy. Usually on Monday, they would go over their broadcasts from the past week, and evaluate them in order to perfectly cater to the wants of the listeners and the company alike. The three of them were gathered in the office around their pot of ramyeon that was still steaming.

“So, like,” Minzy said. She slurped up her noodles. “Heechul-sshi’s really garnering more listeners. From 26% percent, we’ve gone up to 27%, and aside from that, our social media pages are being mentioned a lot. The website also has more visitors than usual.”

Woohyun hyung hummed over his bowl, not having stuck his head out from it since they got the ramyeon out of the pot. He mumbled something else, which Kyunghoon didn’t get but apparently Minzy did. Weird.

Minzy looked over at Kyunghoon from across their table, eyes crinkling. “And the people are really praising the script these days, saying that the brighter turn helps them more.”

Kyunghoon just shrugged and hid his smile behind his bowl. Honestly, even though these noodles were spicy, they never bothered Kyunghoon. People hated him for that since it would make them need to order something spicier, to their sadness. Woohyun hyung was the same as him, and thankfully Minzy seemed to welcome challenges as much as she enjoyed them, so no one here really held any competition when it came to choosing the level of spiciness.

Slurping up the rest of his bowl, he put it down with a triumphant plop. “I win, assholes! Pay up!”

Minzy wordlessly hands him over her ten-thousand won, but Woohyun hyung slams his own plastic bowl down on the table. “You were able to have a headstart, asshat! I needed to serve the two of you your bowls before I was able to eat!” he said, mouth still full with some noodles and soup. He was pointing an accusing finger at him, but it mattered not in the face of victory.

Kyunghoon looked at him innocently with a smile, extending his hand to receive his reward in the hands of the enemy. With the roll of his eyes, Woohyun hyung digged through his pocket and gave him a greasy, old ten-thousand won bill. Money was money, and he was going to get what was due. Besides, he bet that his gag reflex would want to actually get some compensation for its good deeds.

He sumgly plumps back onto his chair, stretching a hand while rubbing his stomach with the other. God, he really needed to get back on his night gym schedule. He couldn’t feel any of that core muscle over the three months he’d been on without a bout of exercise.

There were trumpets playing the song of victory when Woohyun hyung apparently said something. He was made aware of it by a kick on his thigh. Damn, was he really becoming the punching bag of the century now?

“Yah!” he roared, glaring. “What’s your problem?”

“I said,” she answered calmly in response, still leisurely slurping up her ramyeon. “There’s going to be a Halloween party in like, two or three week time, still depending on the HR Department.”

“So?”

Woohyun hyung had his back turned towards them, in favour of the water dispenser when he answered. “Minzy wants the four of us to have a theme, given that we’d want to go in the first place,” hyung pointed out. “But yes, she thinks that we should start planning.”

Kyunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Why are they suddenly having a party though?” he asked. “Isn’t that usually done by the staff themselves rather than it being an actual event.”

“Apparently, it was suggested by someone in the department to enforce more communication within the company, regardless of the departments or shows,” she answers easily. “But I’m really thinking that the studio just wanted to show off given that other radio studios are doing the same.”

He just rolls his eyes. “God, I just wish we weren’t that petty regarding power play,” he said.

“That’s true, honestly,” Woohyun hyung replied, sitting back at his chair, lips pulled in a straight line. “We’re still going to be paying for this shit anyways and I can’t wait to see what it’s wasted on.”

Minzy then made a disappointed sound, putting the mostly empty ramen cup on the table. “This is a once in a lifetime thing, you oldies,” she said, indignant. “And I’d want to enjoy my Halloween, thank you very much.”

“Firstly,” Kyunghoon started. “I’m three years older than you, so technically Woohyun hyung is the only oldie in this room,” Woohyun made a sound, but he ignored it. “Secondly, there are many other ways to enjoy Halloween that don’t involve this much money and sheer disappointment.”

His hyung nodded along with what he was saying, while Minzy just gave him a sour look. “Are we really going to argue about this?” she asked.

“If that’s what it takes for you to go on your own, yes,” Kyunghoon responded, giving her a condescending smile.

Just as Minzy was probably about to curse him, the sound of the door knocking alarmed the three of them.

“Is this what I’m missing on Mondays then?” the idol said, pleasant smile on his face. His hair was tucked back into his snapback and he was wearing a pink shirt underneath something that looked like a school uniform. It was probably for one of his programs, which Kyunghoon didn’t really know anything about.

Woohyun then instantly brightened up, laughing at the comment. “Most of the time, yeah,” he said, giving a curt nod in the man’s direction, motioning for him to sit.

“Heechul-sshi!” Minzy greeted brightly, gesturing for him to sit in the empty seat between her and Kyunghoon. It was alright, as Kyunghoon tried to move a little farther from it.

The man sat gently on the chair, fixing his hair a little bit. All eyes were trained on him, two reflecting happy surprise with only his communicating confusion. It was the first time that the man was here on a Monday, and maybe it wasn’t something more than a whim, but he could never be sure.

“Not that I’m not fine with you being here,” Woohyun hyung then started, a smile on his face. “But what are you going here, DJ-nim?”

The man laughed when Woohyun called him the name. “I wanted to have a drink with all of you.”

A shocked silence settled between them for a few seconds. Woohyun hyung’s eyes went wide, Minzy stopped devouring whatever water was left in her bowl, while Kyunghoon just furrowed his eyebrows. The  man didn’t even flinch.

“What?” his two friends said simultaneously.

“A drink,” the man repeated himself, tone still happy. “If all of you aren’t that busy then maybe we’d be able to go to whatever restaurant’s nearest. Grab a few drinks and eat a bit.”

“Heechul-sshi, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon,” Minzy pointed out, words a little garbled due to all of the food in her mouth. The man just nodded in response, eyes saying that she was pointing out the obvious.

A hundred questions were probably forming in Kyunghoon’s face at the moment, but he didn’t say a word.

“I’m sorry, Heechul-sshi, but I’m going to be having a meeting in an hour,” Woohyun hyung then responded, shooting a genuinely apologetic look at the man.

The professional idol just gave him a full smile in return. “It’s okay, PD-nim, maybe some other time,” he said as calmly. “How about you, Minzy-sshi?”

“I have to go with Woohyun hyung in that meeting,” she answered, frowning a bit. “Maybe sometime this week, at night?”

He nodded in response, smile not wavering despite the two straight rejections. Instead, the man looked straight in his eyes, waiting expectantly. Didn’t he have high morale?

Kyunghoon probably looked like a deer in headlights n the eyes of his three colleagues. His eyes were flickering from one face to another, trying to read in them what he should do. It was as if the room was compressing bit by bit as the seconds passed by.

On one hand, he really didn’t have anything much to do, seeing as he just needed to edit and write a line or two more for his first script. He was also pretty hungry, and the thought of squid and chicken was also appealing. It would be great for him to start trying to get along better with the man, so that he wouldn’t have to feel like he was being hanged every minute that they were approximately near each other. On the other hand, he would be going alone with the man, and he didn’t know if the power of food was going to be able to help him converse with the man. It would also be pretty satisfying to see the look of dejection in the man’s face when he’d seen so much of Kyunghoon’s before.

Well, the devil always wins in the end.

“I’m –“

Minzy then kicked him in the thigh, effectively silencing him with pain. “He’s free for the whole day, and Kyunghoon oppa’s a real pig inside so I think he’d love to get some food and beer,” she answered, ending a charming smile in the man’s way, not seeing the promise of death in his eyes.

Instead of Minzy, the man did see the murder in his gaze, so he asked again, still looking straight at him. “Ah, are you sure about that Minzy-sshi?”

She nodded and hummed in response, but the man still had his eyes on him. The smile was slowly sliding off his lips, and is eyes became a little more serious than before. It was as if everything was dependent on Kyunghoon’s answer right now and that sucked. Fuck this. His resolve was weakening bit by bit as he started to feel the overwhelming expectation and worry emanating from the man.

God, he was also going to get a beating from Minzy if he didn’t do this, so there’s that. It was settled.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered voice small. He looked at the man. “I also know a good place to get some drinks anyways.”

The smile immediately reappeared on the man’s face, and his whole aura brightened instantly. He felt the sharp change of emotions on the man as he stood up. “Are the two of you sure about your meeting? You can always cancel it, you know,” he asked, but his face didn’t show any form of disappointment still.

Woohyun hyung then shook his head, smile gracing his lips once again. “Unlike you, DJ-nim, I am merely a peasant to the workings of Santa Radio.”

Minzy and the man laugh together. “Sadly, I am another slave in this building. It’s fortunate that Kyunghoon doesn’t seem to have a tight leash on his neck,” she said.

“Well, it’s too bad for the two of you, though I know that someone enjoys that kind of thing,” he then said, sticking his tongue out.

Minzy didn’t even falter when she started to pat the idol’s arm. “Don’t listen to much, huh, Heechul-sshi,” she warns. “He’s a filthy liar who makes money off of lying.”

He just pats her hand as well, giving her an amused smile. “I’ll be careful,”

Kyunghoon just stands up from his seat, picking up his jacket, phone, and wallet. He made his way out of the room and waited patiently at the corridor. He still heard the soft laughs and sound of conversation that floated around the room, and he wondered how long this would last.

Honestly, Kyunghoon wanted to have this end early. He didn’t know what the man would talk about, or what kind of personality he would show. He didn’t know if this was coming out of the goodness of his heart, or if there was something more nefarious in action. He didn’t trust the man enough and he wasn’t sure that he himself was ready for this.

Well, Kyunghoon was always learned the best through trial and error, so even if this day would end with him being soothed by his mother, at least he tried to get over himself.

But then again, what if the man wouldn’t want to break his mind, but get physical this time? What if he would be pressed against the wall again, grabbed by the collar. What if he would be in the middle of an alley, trying to pry his way out of the man’s grip? What if he would be bloody and bruised just as they got out of the premises? What if the man was going to start breaking his bones one by one, telling him how he never should have accepted the program to be working with some piece of shit like him? What if he would –

“Uhm, Min Kyunghoon-sshi, are you alright?”

The terror in his voice was nowhere to be found, and he was instantly embraced with the feeling of calmness again as he looking at the speaker. He was standing in front of Kyunghoon, eyes searching his face. He felt the sweat dripping down his face little by little, and he hastily wiped it off with his sleeve.

“I’m okay,” he replied, trying to even his voice but apparently failing. He then felt another warm gust of wind on him, immediately steadying his breathing and helping him see better. He felt more stable, and he even felt himself feel more energy resonate within him. He flashed a small smile in the direction of the other man, but immediately regretted it.

The other didn’t seem to notice the immediate retreat of Kyunghoon’s smile, and just smiled back widely. Concern still decorated the pupils of his eye, but it wasn’t that noticeable on his face. Even though he made the lunch start on a terrible foot, at least Kyunghoon could be sure that it wouldn’t affect his whole afternoon. He was sure with the way that liveliness now radiated from the man.

Kyunghoon then stood up straight, no longer leaning on the wall. “Should we go, then?” he asked politely.

The man just nodded, and they started to make their way towards Mother-In-Law’s Chicken. When people happened to pass their way, they were either to busy to notice their presence, or were oppositely overwhelmed with the presence of their Universal Star. It was a convenience that he remained to be invisible either way, so he could continue trying to steady his breath further.

When they were finally out of the building, the man unexpectedly stopped, and Kyunghoon looked back towards him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Don’t you want to grab a ride towards the diner you’re taking us to?” he asked in return, gesuting towards the black van parked in front of the enormous glass doors. A man who supposedly was the man’s manager was expectantly waiting beside the vehicle.

At the thought of him alone with the man in a closed space, he immediately shook his head. “It’s near anyways, so if it’s okay with you, maybe we could…walk?” he asked, hoping that the other would just agree with him.

For a few moments, they just looked at each other, then he started to make his way towards the car without a word. Well, so much for asking. He guessed that idols expected to be pampered and fucking sheltered until their last breath. With a glare, Kyunghoon also wordlessly followed him a few paces behind.

The man seemed to exchange a few words with his manager, then the manager made his way to the driver’s seat. Well, at least he didn’t climb in first without any care for Kyunghoon. Just as he began to pick up his pace, the black van sped away, leaving the two men behind.

He froze where he stood, and looked questioningly at the other. Did their ride just…leave them?

The man looked back in Kyunghoon’s direction, and he smiled easily. “Should we start walking already?”

“I th-thought…,” he started, but then regained his composure. “Uhm, sure, just follow me please, I guess?”

“Is that a question or a command?” he asked, walking up to him.

He just shrugged instead of saying anything, because he didn’t know if he would ever boss an idol around. Once they were roughly in the same place, he started to turn right in the direction of the restaurant.

The road beside them was busy, as it always was. The sound of engines revving filled his ears, and he thanked the government for how wide the road was so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the beeping of frustrated drivers galore. The smell of smoke was something he never really liked, so he turned up his turtleneck to cover it. God, he hated pollution (as if he experienced the worst of it).

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who covered up his face as his companion put on his face mask. At his raised eyebrow, the other shrugged.

“Aside from face masks being a trend,” he started, “They’re also extremely great at diverting all attention from me.”

Kyunghoon’s lips turned up a bit, remembering how he also used to wear face masks outside at the pretense that there were some fans that were dying to see him out and about. “Well, don’t you think that it does the opposite?” he asked.

He saw the other’s eyes squint at him, and he continued. “Like the more you cover up your face, it just attracts more attention towards you? Reverse psychology, that sort of thing?”

Quirking his head to one side, he seemed to smile, as Kyunghoon saw his eyes crinkle. “That’s not false,” he admitted, pointing a finger at him. “But you have to admit that I’d also get as much attention without my mask on. This face is everywhere!”

Just to nail down his point, a bus passed by, carrying a poster for a variety program that really did have the man’s face on it. He tried his best not to rolled his eyes at the man’s thinly veiled arrogance. He just nodded and continued walking forward. At their little banter, the DJ seemed to gain a spring in his step, humming a song that he couldn’t pick up on.

He really liked how his country had enough environment to go on, even in the most urban of areas. The green of the trees helped his nerves, and he was able to breathe actual air rather than air that was breathed by everyone in the building. It was honestly a good day today, as the sun above them didn’t make it as cold as it usually was, and he thankfully wasn’t freezing his balls off today in front of someone he couldn’t leech his clothes off of.

Looking around the busy avenue, he then saw the same pair of interested eyes on him.

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was near, I assure you,” he said, trying his best to reassure the man, if ever that was why he was staring. “If you want to choose another place, DJ-nim, it’s fine with me.”

He hated the few centimeters that separated the two of them from looking eye to eye. The other still seemed to be staring down at him, and it was like he was being eaten alive. He then let go of their eye contact and looked straight at where he was going. He took a sharp right at a smaller road, and he still followed.

“Nah,” he answered, a minute after he asked. “I’m fine with walking by the way, so you don’t have to worry about that, Writer-nim.”

Kyunghoon’s skin crawled just as he addressed him as such, the goosebumps scattering on his skin. He just nodded wordlessly again, shivering a little.

“How old are you?” the man asked, voice casual.

As closed off as Kyunghoon wanted to be, he guessed that it wouldn’t hurt if he would get the respect he deserved if ever he turned out to be the older one. “I was born in 1984, how about you?”

“I’m the hyung here then,” the other replied immediately, putting a damper on his spirits. “I was born in 1983.”

Honestly, Kyunghoon would have gotten angry at the moment if it turned out that he was older. The fact that he would have been pushed over by an audacious, bratty, disrespectful idol would have consumed him from inside out. He just shrugged. “Hello then, DJ hyung-nim,”

They took a sharp left, and Kyunghoon started to eye the stores they passed by.

“People usually tell me that I’m younger than I look,” the other man starts, also looking around the street. It was filled with more stores than the previous, selling counterfeit fashion but marketing it as the real thing (as if Louis Vuitton really sold stuff for the price of twenty-five thousand won when it really would be triple the price). This stuff probably amused the older man, since he probably had enough money to buy the actual thing. It disgusted him. He kept on looking.

He opted to continue the conversation so that he wouldn’t have to dwell on the discrepancies of privilege between the two of them. “I’m guessing these people are usually middle-aged women, am I wrong?”

He could feel the spark of interest in the other man, a crackle in the flame. “Well, the demographic’s a little mixed, but you did get the majority right. But, I never thought that you’d get smart with me already, Writer-nim.”

Kyunghoon flinched at his words, because yes, he was already lapsing into his casual talk. He tried to play it off. “I thought that your professional relationship might move better if we were more casual, sine that seems to be your style with Minzy, as well,” he said, truthfully.

The other man hummed before responding. “You’re not wrong there.”

“I am hardly, I’d like to think,” he said. At the crinkle of the other’s eye, he looked far off to another shop. “If you’re going to be slyly boasting about yourself, I’d want to have my own fair share, DJ-nim, if that’s fine with you.”

Another right. The man was still following attentively, aura calmer and looser than before. “How often do you go to Mother-In-Law’s Chicken?”

“Hm, Minzy, Woohyun hyung, and I go there once or twice a month,” he answered, shivering a bit at the lack of sun in the narrow road. “It’s been our favourite since the program started, but you’ve also went there once right? We bumped into each other?”

“Ah, yes,” the other man confirmed. “Wasn’t that the time you literally bumped into me then just ran after looking at me?”

He flushed, which seemed enough of an answer for the two of them.

The man laughed a bit, and Kyunghoon felt something loosen up his nerves from embarrassment. “Honestly I just went to that place on a whim that night,” he said, but wasn’t looking at Kyunghoon anymore. “I wasn’t able to eat as much, even though I ate with Woohyun PD-nim and Minzy-sshi. Do you know about that?”

Kyunghoon faintly nodded, and remembered how betrayed he felt. “Why didn’t you eat?”

“Well, I didn’t want the first meal I shared with them to be on their bill,” he confessed. “Even though I was invited to their table, I’d feel like I was overstepping.”

He pursed his lips at the other man’s answer. “That’s pretty kind of you, DJ-nim,” he responded. “On our first meal, it was solely on Woohyun hyung,” he said as he felt a small smile creep its way up to his lips. “Apparently, both Minzy and I claimed that we’d forgotten out wallets, and when Woohyun hyung found out, he didn’t talk to us for a week.”

He heard the warm sound of the man’s genuine laugh, which he’d heard a handful of times, thanks to last week. It was a soft thing, not as high pitched as he though, but just mellow that rumbled through his bones. It was nice.

He saw the reddish sign of Mother-In-Law’s Chicken right above his head, and he stopped. For how well he was following earlier, the other man didn’t seem to pick up on Kyunghoon’s movement. The man was confidently striding his merry way down the road, not even looking back.

“Well, I think I’d expect it from someone who looks like you maybe, Writer-nim,” the other remarked. “You do have this kind of devilish –“

He coughed loudly, to which the other jumped at, looking towards Kyunghoon. He couldn’t help but laugh, which caused his makeshift muffle to slide off his chin. “If you’d like to keep on talking with yourself, DJ-nim, go ahead, but we’re here already.”

Surprisingly, the man still kept his eyes trained on him. Kyunghoon balanced himself back and forth between the heels and toes of his feet. It was weird how much the man seemed to stare at him for the duration of the day. Thankfully it didn’t do the same thing to him as it did before.

He was now able to level his eyes with the other, and now he could really see the change. He could feel the change, and he acknowledged the change. He was accustomed to it, and he was on his way to believe in it. He didn’t have as much trust in the other man as he would have if they really were meeting for the first time, but he felt it starting to build a little. It was good.

He lifted up his hand, and gestured for the man to come towards him. Wordlessly, he did, eyes still on him. The gaze was heavy, as if he had something to say to Kyunghoon, but couldn’t really get it out. It was like there was a frog in his mouth, if Kyunghoon looked close enough.

He couldn’t take it.

“Should we go in, DJ-nim?”

As if shocked, the man instantly put on his casual smile, and made his way to the door, opening it for Kyunghoon. He bowed slightly and made his way in the warm, familiar restaurant around him with the idol following him a few steps back.

#

“You know that you can call me hyung, right?” the other man asked, mouth partially filled with japchae. “If it’s more comfortable for you that way. You can also use my name, like Minzy-sshi does.”

In the middle of devouring his second batch of noodles for the day, he looked up at the other. Honestly, it was a miracle that Kyunghoon could hear the other over the commotion that came from the uncharacteristically busy restaurant around him. The warmth from both the yellow lights and the heater around them made him flush.

He honestly didn’t know if he was ready to call him by name, since that required a certain level of informality. It required him to allow himself to know more about the man than professional boundaries would usually have.

But then again, he wasn’t the same man. Kyunghoon wanted to be stronger, and to move on from the past. He wanted to function. Kyunghoon wanted to be able to breathe around the man, and he was already breathing. Now, maybe he could try to break away from the fear he had of getting hurt like he did before. Maybe he could leave that memory in the past, where it belonged.

He could do that. He could live without his past dictating him as much. He could be free.

But he wasn’t that sure yet.

He hummed, and looked back down to his bowl. He still noticed Heechul-sshi watching him from where he was seated.

November 2005

They were preparing for their second album release, and Kyunghoon had a really good feeling about this one.

Once they were able to read the lyrics and study the musical arrangement, piece, and everything else about the music, he could feel the luck and fighting spirit encapsulate the five of them. With one look exchanged between their group, he knew that they were all thinking the same thing: this was it. This was going to be their song.

They were in their rented practice room, where each of them were gathered together, excitement and giddiness filling up their room.

“I know that Monologue was a great song, but we need to make this one greater than it,” Yejoon hyung said, ambition alight in his eyes.

Woohyun and Junki hyung were nodding along, tuning their guitars.

“We should make this song shine to the fullest extent, like, really,” Seonghee hyung joined in, putting his fist down on the polished floor beneath them. There were multiple scratches and skid marks on its surface, and it was a testament to how much time they really spent here in their room.

He smiled at the sight of his hyungs so passionate, and he couldn’t help but absorb some of that into himself. “I think we should order some Chinese food first if we’re going to practice, don’t you think?” he suggested, eyes crinkling.

“No!” Woohyun hyung exclaimed suddenly, glaring at him and Junki hyung, who was also about to agree. “It will make this song as greasy if we’re going to succumb to physical needs,” he explained, sounding too serious to be sane.

“Psh, go on, shaman,” chided Seonghee hyung, who didn’t believe in much superstition. “Have us starve for the whole day.”

Yejoon hyung on the other hand put a hand over Woohyun hyung’s chest, in mock defense. “He has a point, idiot,” he said aggressively. “We must take all precautions for this song to be released well!”

They both nodded furiously, glaring at the three of them. Junki hyung just rolled his eyes, standing up from the floor towards the landline. “What chicken flavour do you guys want for the day – ah!”

His two assholes of hyungs tackled Junki hyung to the ground, like two feral wolves clamoring over new prey. Seonghee hyung was busy doubling over at the sight of them so stupid, and Kyunghoon couldn’t help but do the same.

The room that was filled with more than three years of memories was filled with another, more touching one. Kyunghoon felt his eyes watering with laughter and mirth, and it only increased when SEonghee hyung half-heartedly tried to pull the two of them off each other.

“Come on guys, we need to – oompf!” he sounded as Woohyun hyung kicked him back on his ass. “Yah! I’m not the bastard who you need to be kicking stupid - !”

The whole afternoon went like that, with the four of them fighting while Kyunghoon admired and watched amusedly from the sidelines. It ended with the five of them finishing tree boxes of chicken with ten or more empty bottles of soju.

It was great.

#

The nerves were starting to get to him again, and he was going both deaf and blind every second he felt pass by. His hyung were in a similar state of distress, but there was a difference in degree to how each of them were feeling their heart threaten to burst out of their chest. Kyunghoon’s was the worst, while Yejoon hyung seemed relatively the calmest, sitting alone silently in the corner of their waiting room.

“Kyunghoon, do you want to go for a walk?” Junki hyung suggested, long hair pulled back in a ponytail. His smile was there on his lips, but it wasn’t as bright as it usually was.

He couldn’t speak that well again, feeling the gravelly surface coat his larynx. He nodded faintly, wobbling his way to a standing position. He was getting better at handling himself when he got this way before a performance. He was now able enough to move around with much more ease than he did before. Seonghee hyung taught him to count to 50, then talk to himself about anything that came to mind. Voices were able to make Kyunghoon calm down, so it would’ve been great if he had a portable radio already.

With Junki hyung’s help, they made their way out of the waiting room, and into the relatively empty corridor in front of them. Most of the idol groups were already waiting in the holding area, or were either in the bathroom, fixing their looks and probably calming themselves down as well. With unsteady steps, his hyung guided him out towards the elevator.

He leaned his head on Junki hyung’s shoulder, breathing in his scent of honey and wood. He didn’t know what kind of perfume his hyung was putting on these days, but it did remind him of his home. It was nice. His mind was getting a little clearer.

At the ding of the elevator, hyung made him sit on one of the benches that were in the tp floor of the building. One thing that Kyunghoon really did like about the recording studios was that they usually had a balcony of some sort that was spacious and offered a lot of fresh air for Kyunghoon to breathe. There weren’t that many people who usually came to those spots, aside from some of their employees maybe.

It was the perfect place for Kyunghoon to get back to himself.

He breathed in the cool, sharp air of February, and opened his eyes. Junki hyung was crouched down in front of his, holding both his hands. Usually whne he would be in a good enough mood while drinking, it was like hyung was the youngest among them. He had a cute, baby face, and his eyes were really young when you got to look at them. Even Kyunghoon could feel the youth and lightness eminating from his hyung.

What was also great about his hyung was that he was just as reliable and responsible as any older hyung, and that was great. He loved Junki hyung a lot because of who he was.

He felt his hyung rubbing circles against his skin, the warmth flowing into him. He breathed in the calm. He breathed in the steadiness of his hyung.

“I think you need to get your hair done, hyung,” he said softly, voice hoarse. “I’m okay now, so it’s okay if you need to go back.”

Junki hyung looked straight into his eyes. “I know that’s you calling me ugly, but are you sure?”

Kyunghoon stifled a light laugh. “Yes, I am, hyung, go ahead.”

With one last pat on the shoulder, he saw Junki hyung exit to the elevator inside. Kyunghoon looked around, eyeing the Seoul city skyline that surrounded him. He could smell the faint smoke that came from both the cars down there and the exhaust pipes that were somewhere behind him. He was getting more and more of himself back, and the ice had started to thaw on his heart.

A few minutes later, he could feel himself gaining most of his bearings back, so he stood up steadily, stretching. He didn’t think that he sweat that much, so it would be good news to the stylists who would probably kill him this time if he came back to them in need of a costume change.

He walked towards the elevator, already happy to gain back most of his equilibrium. Just as he was about to press the down button, the door popped open, and Kyunghoon was pushed back by a rather dick-ish guy.

The man who pushed him back by the shoulder didn’t even flinch to apologize or say sorry. Hell, he didn’t even look back. The fiery orange hair that decorated his head seemed to match his very angry state. Kyunghoon could feel the wild vibrations of frustration, annoyance, and disappointment from the other, and he didn’t even think a second before pulling back.

Still, he was annoyed and he needed an apology.

“Yah!” he called, massaging his left shoulder, which was probably (not) dislocated. “Please watch where you’re going!”

At his call, the man stopped and pivoted to look at him.

In all fairness, the man was indeed good looking, which made Kyunghoon’s self esteem take a little dip. Even with how funny he was dressed and styled, he couldn’t deny that the idol industry was probably lucky to have him. God, wasn’t that infuriating?

The man didn’t even speak as he just sneered at Kyunghoon then made his merry way somewhere in the balcony. A shot of annoyance was noticeably building up in Kyunghoon’s nape, and he wanted to follow him down to wherever the man was going, but was a professional, and he would just let this slide.

As the elevator door closed, he could hear a scream from the balcony, followed by the sound of something cracking.

#

By the next week, their song was heard everywhere.

They cried.

Chapter Text

October 2018

“I was wondering when you would finally call, you know?” a familiar, deep voice greeted the three of them as they made their way inside their office.

Junyoung-sshi was sitting there, feet propped up on the table as usual, like he was still part of their team. There were four boxes on the table in front of him, but those didn’t matter because Junyoung was back there in their office. Noisily, Minzy made her way to hug the man.

“Junyoung-sshi!” she squealed, bouncing up and down. “You still could have told us first, right? So that we would’ve brought some presents for you as well,” she said, voice muffled with her face pressed against Junyoung’s sweater.

He reciprocated her hug, patting her loudly on the back, but she didn’t seem to mind. “As if you don’t like surprises,” he reminded.

Carefully pulling himself away from her grasp, he made his way to hug Kyunghoon and Woohyun hyung. Damn, he did like Junyoung but he really wasn’t going to miss how inferior he felt with how tall the other was. Even with how bright the sun was shining from their bigass sliding window, he swore that the happiness he felt at the moment made it shine brighter.

“So what’s in the boxes?” Kyunghoon asked, patting the other fiercely on the back. “And also what’s in it for you?”

Junyoung feigned shock while Minzy made her way to him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Why do you always think of things going for the worst?” the former DJ asked, small smile settled on his lips.

He just shrugged and made his way to see for himself. It was already food, and Kyunghoon knew that. He smelled the aroma of freshly cooked rice and something that was not chicken with it. His hands were already on the tape securing the paper box when he was once again some kind of sashimi that should be slapped before it would be ready for eating.

“Yah!” Woohyun hyung chided, as the four of them moved to sit in their regular seats. “You should wait for your hyungs to dig in before you, stupid.”

Minzy tutted in the same fashion. “You’re full of bad manners today aren’t you?”

He just stuck his tongue out, making mocking noises as he did. As if she wasn’t the woman who always took the first bite out of every meal they ordered, not even caring to ask. But then again, now wasn’t the time to annihilate her in a fight.

He looked towards his right, and he saw Junyoung laughing and smiling lightly at the sight of them. His heart warmed because of the euphoria that Junyoung was also feeling, and it was nice to be reminded of what it was like two months ago. Yes, it was very dramatic, but Kyunghoon couldn’t be bothered since it had changed a lot in his perspective.

Then, he noticed that there wasn’t a box in front of where Junyoung was seated, but it was in the empty seat beside him, across Kyunghoon. He raised an eyebrow.

“Junyoung oppa, aren’t you eating?” Minzy asked, eyes moving from the box to where the man was seated.

He just shook his head, stretching his arms above his scalp. “That’s for Heechul hyung,” he explained casually. “He said he’d be here in a few minutes.”

Kyunghoon stiffened a bit at the mention of the name, but the feeling washed away immediately. It was Wednesday actually, and yes, DJ-nim was actually late. He looked around the table, and he saw Minzy look at Junyoung with some surprise, and Woohyun hyung was just unbothered, tapping and shaking the paper box, trying to find out what was in it.

“So, should we wait for him, Junyoung-ah?” Woohyun hyung asked, not looking at him. “Or can I at least open this already.”

“Aish,” the man in question said, looking offended as he made his way into the room. “PD-nim, are you always so impatient when it comes to food?”

Junyoung-sshi stood up at the idol’s entrance, smiling brightly. DJ-nim did the same, and extended his hand. Junyoung accepted it, and they hugged like brothers. Minzy was still watching silently as the two men clapped each other on the back, looking slightly startled, as might he. At least he wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

“Heechul hyung!” Junyoung-sshi said.

“Yah, it’s as if you haven’t seen me in months,” DJ-nim responded, letting the other man go and taking a seat. Then, his eyes scanned the room and saw the two of them watching, curious. He got the question.

He put a hand on Junyoung’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. “Junyoung and I’ve known each other for like...how long?”

The other thought for a bit before raising up three fingers. “Three years, I think,” he continued. “Since my appearance on your show, we became closer.”

DJ-nim nodded, eyes flickering between Kyunghoon and Minzy. “He’s initially the one that pushed for me to audition for the program,” he said further, giving a grateful smile towards the younger man. “So we’re really okay with each other if ever that’s a question in your minds.”

At the mention of the audition, Woohyun hyung had a sudden coughing fit, which made Kyunghoon lean over the empty seat to pat his back. Old age must have been catching up on him. Junyoung just laughed.

“Woohyun hyung must be starving now,” he commented, then gestured at the boxes. “Eat up, since you’re all here! It’s samgyupsal.”

Ooh’s and ahh’s followed the reveal, and then some impatient grappling at the packaging tape. Once each box was opened, the rich aroma of pork filled the room, which instantly made Kyunghoon hungry, even though he was more or less full of coffee and biscuits from his (very late) breakfast. He really did miss it when Junyoung had treated them out of the goodness of his pocket, even though that meant ore debts for himself.

Woohyun hyung was already inhaling every side dish and slice of pork already, but Minzy had started to converse with the two unexpected friends, getting a taste of the meal few and far between.

“So have you been in contact with Heechul-sshi more than you have been with us, oppa?” she asked, scrutinizing eye trained on Junyoung-sshi.

He let out a shaky breath, and looked at the door frame, as if wishing for someone to walk in. “Uhm, it depends on your definition of contact, I think…?”

Like a savior, DJ-nim put his hand on Minzy’s shoulder, other hand wiping his mouth with his long-sleeved jacket. “Junyoung never really talks to anyone, I swear,” he ratted out, which caused Junyoung-sshi to drop his jaw. Kyunghoon snickered.

“What do you mean –“

He just waved his hand in an airy gesture. “He’s always so busy with his album, then he says he’s also busy with his drama, then there’s the rare instance when he’s busy with his family or something like that,” he continues, as if uninterrupted. “He’ll never talk to you unless you approach him first, and I don’t know what’s sadder –“

Junyoung then started to slap him on the back, jaw clenched. “I’m not like that!”

As if there was no Junyoung-sshi at all, Minzy nodded her head sympathetically. “I understand what you mean, Heechul-sshi,” she confides, pouting. “Even if we would be close when meeting personally, after that, it’d be dead silence until we’d meet again for the program –“

“Hey, can I not have a life?”

Feeling pity for the man, Kyunghoon reached out his hand and patted him on the back. “Just give up, Junyoung-sshi," he suggested, eyes brimming with empathy. “It’s no good when two shit-talkers start to converse. There’s no way to stop them.”

Suddenly, a fork was flying his way. “Yah!” Minzy exclaimed, another piece of plastic cutlery in her hands, ready to be released. “I don’t shit-talk, Kyunghoon-sshi, I just tell the truth!”

“And how did you figure I’m a shit-talker?” DJ-nim interjected, eyes trained between him and Junyoung.

He shrugged. “You just seemed like the type,” he explained, leaving out the part where he’d say he felt the other’s interest and curiosity spike whenever Minzy would say something in the slightest degree related to gossip.

The other’s lips dipped and his head quirked a little to the side, accepting the answer. “Not false,”

Junyoung then barked out a laugh. “’Not false’, my ass,” he responded, edging his chair closer to Kyunghoon’s, which made him envelope the other in a half embrace. “As if you secretly don’t live for drama and keep your reputation clean through blackmail.”

The two secret staff of Dispatch gasped in unison.

“How dare you think that, you –“

“Minzy-ah, Heechul hyung, remember that I paid for your meals,” Junyoung said, pointing an accusing finger in between them.

They both shut up at his words, and resorted to whispering over their free meals. Kyunghoon couldn’t help but smirk.

“Finally,” Woohyun hyung said after a moment of silence. “I thought the four of you would never shut up and eat.”

“Hey!” Kyunghoon said, outraged. “I barely even spoke!”

Hyung just waved his chopsticks in his face. “Details, details,”

Kyunghoon rolled his eyes (for the enth time, and it was a miracle his eyes haven’t gotten all white yet), and put his focus back on the food. Just as he was about to shovel-in another mouthful, he saw the other’s eyes trained on his meal.

“Do you want some?” he asked, nudging the chopsticks to the other’s mouth.

He just opened his mouth and Kyunghoon fed him, sighing in remorse. He really didn’t like sharing his own food a lot, but Junyoung did buy it, so technically it was his. He shook his head slightly.

He stared menacingly into the other’s smiling eyes. “That’s really the only one you’re going to get,” he explained. “And it’s because you haven’t been here in a long time.”

“Awww,” Woohyun hyung said smiling, mouth partially full. “Kyunghoon’s learning to share.”

Once again, Minzy had her focus strictly on him. “You give him food out of sympathy, yet you don’t do the same to me, sexist whore?”

DJ-nim looked at him with mock disgust, and he just sneered at the two of them. “The only reason I don’t give you food is because you take it for yourself anyways,” he said. “And DJ-nim, you shouldn’t encourage Minzy so much. She just gets worse.”

Minzy literally growled at him at his words, but says nothing after. DJ-nim on the other hand, wore a small smile on his face as he looked at Kyunghoon. He looked back down at his pork.

“Junyoung-ah,” DJ-nim called, looking slyly at the said man. “Have you heard about the Hallowe’en party?"

Mouth still full, the other shook his head. “’Ssit for SM or or CJ?” he asked, words slightly muffled but discernible thanks to his bigass mouth.

“It’s for Santa!” Minzy answered, smiling brightly. “It’s apparently going to be their first one, and all employees are invited. Sadly, you have to pay, but you get the idea.”

Kyunghoon actually forgot about that, but his firm decision of not going over-rode that need. He continued to tear apart the last portion of samgyupsal he had into smaller pieces, trying to make it last the longest it could. Damn it, why did his broke instincts take over even when he knew he could afford these kind of things now?

Just as he was going to bring the slice of pork into his mouth, a sharp jerk from his arm caused it to fall slowly from his chopsticks onto the ground. It was as if there was baroque music playing in the background, making it more painful for him to watch. The poor slice of pork was going down, probably crying and turning in the air until it went between his open legs and onto the cold, hard floor.

“My pork!” he wailed, voice frail.

With all the anger he could muster (that made his ears go red), he looked towards the culprit, who was none other than Junyoung himself. God, he just had to take two portions of his good meal rather than just steal one. The other looked straight into Kyunghoon’s eyes, horror and fear mixed together. He struck.

The sound of skin slapping skin resonated in the room, and Junyoung-sshi’s groan followed later. He was probably going to have a red mark in between his shoulder blades in a few minutes, but that was fine for Kyunghoon. The bastard deserved to remember the sin that he had committed on this day.

“Yah!” Minzy said, flicking him in between his eyes, where it hurt the most. “He bought your food, asshat!”

Rubbing the abused part, he growled. “He’s also the guy who wasted it,” he justified, looking sourly at the guy from the corner of his eye.

“Well, technically, it was a portion of it Kyunghoon-ah,” Woohyun hyung chided, eyes focused on the rice grains left on his box. “But it was a valid reason for punsihment.”

Kyunghoon gave a thumbs up to his hyung, and he received it back. It felt good to have him on his side, especially when Kyunghoon had picked up on that due to multiple instances of beatings that happened when they were still fresh rookies. The memory stung a bit, but it was gone in an instant as well.

After giving another stink eye to Minzy, he looked over to DJ-nim, who was rubbing his own back. “Damn, Writer-nim, I think I felt that too.”

“I don’t think you did, hyung,” Junyoung said, frowning. “It’d be much worse than that.”

He just rolled his eyes at the two of them. “You three are a bunch of drama queens,” he said.

Minzy gaped at him. “That was assault, Kyunghoon oppa!”

He lazily waved a hand. “Details, details.”

A few moments of silence lapsed when Kyunghoon finally got to finishing his meal. At the last bite and the feeling of content that came with it, he finally felt a little sorry for the guy. He raise up his right hand in order to pat the other, but he flinched.

“Junyoung-sshi, I’m just going to pat ur back,” he sighed. With the other’s acceptance, he was then able to soothe the other’s back. Kyunghoon didn’t say sorry, but they all knew he did it through actions. At least most of them did.

“Why did you shake me though, traitor?” he then asked, question popping up in his head suddenly.

“Oh yeah,” Junyoung-sshi said, voice back to normal. “What’s everyone’s plan for the Hallowe’en party?”

Minzy then tapped on the table thrice, like a judge’s call to commence a trial. “I wanted all of us to have a matching theme for our costumes,” she said seriously, as if there weren’t multiple grains of rice putting a halo around her lips. “And for that, I’d need to convince you all to go first. So who’re already set on going.”

Sadly, everyone (even Woohyun hyung, the lazy bastard) raised their hands.

“Junyoung-sshi, you’re allowed to go?”

He shrugged. “I can always gate-crash,” he explained. “Or just pay the extra fee.”

Minzy hummed, accepting his reasoning. “As if Santa wouldn’t agree to their other great DJ wanting to come,” she continues, nodding her head. “He can also be a plus one, but back to the matter at hand.”

Her eyes were then trained like a hawk on Kyunghoon. He couldn’t help but gulp.

“Why can’t you go, Kyunghoon?”

He nonchalantly scratched the back of his neck. “I think my mom has a dentist appointment she has to get to that day…?”

“At seven o’clock in the evening?”

“Dentists these days, you know,”

“What’s the name of the dentist then?”

“Like the place or the person?”

Minzy shrugged, but her gaze stayed sharp. “Either,”

“K-Kang Soohyun,” he lied.

Woohyun hyung then snorted, like the uncooperative bastard he truly was. “Why do you always use that name when you’re lying, Kyunghoon-ah?” his hyung asked, laughing. “It makes it so much easier for us to catch you doing it.”

Damn it. Minzy returned to smiling at him.

“So how much do you want for your talent fee, Kyunghoon-sshi?” Minzy asked, twining her fingers together in front of her, as if he was being interviewed.

“Five million American dollars,” he said, crossing his hands over his chest. “But in all seriousness, I really don’t want to go.”

“Why?” Minzy asked, rolling her head. “It’s going to be fun! There’s going to be food all around, and maybe you’ll make more friends there, Kyunghoon oppa,” she then reasoned, batting her eyes at him.

He heaved a sigh, and ducked his head. “I don’t want to pay the extra fee, and I’d much rather stay at home with Soonshim,” he explained, ruffling his hand through his (rather greasy) hair. It was time for a haircut soon.

“Then we’ll chip in for your fee,” Woohyun hyung said, to which most of them (excluding Minzy) were already nodding to. “But that doesn’t mean that it’s an all free pass. You’ll have to pay us back with dinner.”

“And how does that solve my problem?” he pointed out, eyebrow raised. Hell, they were just signing him up for a lifetime of debts.

Minzy then raised her hand. “I can help you out with your costume so that you won’t have to pay too much for it,” she offered, hopeful glint in her eye. “After all, your fashion stinks.”

Instead of replying, he just gave her a stink eye and tsk’ed. The lengths that they were willing to go through just so that they would be able to enjoy one night at a party. He subtly started to clean up his desk, as he was about to start working at the convenience store in a bit. He knew that they were going to pester him more if he stayed.

“I’ll think about it,” he said casually, and he then stood up from his seat. “The final buying of passes is still next week, right?”

Minzy just looked at him as he stood up, hands clasped together again. “Actually, it’s on Friday,” she answered. “But I know the guy there, so sure, I might be able to convince him to sell an extra if ever.”

“I’ll tell you when I change my mind,” he replied. He gave Junyoung-sshi a half-hug, which the other smiled at. From across the table, he saw DJ-nim studying him sincerely. Maybe he had something on his face, well, he didn’t give that much of a shit.

“I’ll be in the 7/11 if you need me,” he said as a farewell, patting his hyung on the back.

Minzy cleared her throat before he could go out of the door, making him turn around to face her. “Isn’t that what you say when you don’t change your mind?”

He flashed her a knowing smirk and a lazy salute as he made his way to that crappy, bottled milk tea that he was going to have for the afternoon.  

#

“I actually thought you stormed off a while ago,” a familiar voice greeted, accompanied by the chime of the door bell. “Woohyun PD-nim was the one who told me that wasn’t the case.”

He looked up from his laptop, the flare of the light causing him to squint at the vague image of their DJ-nim in front of him. God, he needed his glasses now, but well, they were left at home, probably gathering dust.

He gestured towards the seat across him, to which the other accepted. “I didn’t want them to bother me about it while I edit our script for tomorrow,” he admitted. “They wouldn’t want you saying a vague ‘fuck you’ while live on air, would they?”

The other laughed at that, which made Kyunghoon warm up a bit. “Well, as long as it’s vague, I bet no one would mind, would they?” he replied, eyes focused on him again. Shit, he really wanted to tell the man off for that, since not every single second of a conversation was dependent on eye contact, but hey, Woohyun hyung wouldn’t want him insulting their own team member.

“The board of the directors might disagree, but you do have a point, DJ-nim,” he said, corner of his mouth quirked up. “But I bet you’re here to try and convince me to go to the party, right?”

The other nodded, eyes lit up with interest. “Are they that predictable, or am I just that obvious?”

“It’s not as much as you,” he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “But it’s just the fact that they sent you would be a little telling.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just bet they know that I’d beat their asses out of the door, threatening them with a postponed broadcast,”

DJ-nim laughed again, leaning back a little. His stance was a little more slack than before, and he was already getting comfy, even in this below-average establishment that sold things to the masses. What shocked him even more was that the other didn’t seem to be as awkward as he though he would be. They’ve eaten together once, yet he was able to adjust easily. Once again, he could feel no electrical whir of anxiety in his words, nor feel the stone-hard barrier of secrecy. Damn, didn’t he wish.

“Since I did both of my jobs here within five minutes,” he started, a big smile playing on his lips. “Would you want to have dinner already?”

Kyunghoon furrowed his brows and settled on a small laugh. “What do you mean ‘dinner’, DJ-nim isn’t it still four…?”

He was looking at the dark expanse of their office park lit up by a few streetlights. There were already some of his coworkers making their way home, or wherever they pleased. The glow of the lights from other buildings was apparent, and Kyunghoon blushed. How long was he going to have to lose time like this?

“Apparently not,” he answered his own question, hiding his face behind his laptop screen. “If you want to eat anywhere, DJ-nim, it’s fine with me.”

“Hey,” he heard the other say softly, and before he knew it, he felt the soft touch of skin on his left hand.

There, Kyunghoon felt too much from the other man. He felt the concern that was laced within his hand, and he also saw what the other man was seeing. He saw Kyunghoon feeling small, and he felt the man’s desire to comfort him. He was feeling pity for Kyunghoon’s embarrassment, and he hated it. He flinched away, but tried to cover it by typing on his keyboard.

He let out a breath. “Sorry, I think I saw an error in the script,” he tried to say casually, but he also heard how unsteady his words sounded. He wanted to smack his face right on the screen in front of him.

A few moments of silence lapsed before he heard the other clear his throat. “If you’re still working on that, we can just eat something here?” DJ-nim offered, sounding a little unsure for the first time today. “Unless you’ve eaten here already?”

Kyunghoon peeked up from his screen, hands steady on top of the keyboard. The other was looking at him, calculating, the same as himself, probably. “Are you sure that you’re okay with the food here?” he asked, voice sounding genuine rather than scrutinizing like in his head.

Standing up, the other smiled at him. “If you’re talking about the nutritional side of things, probably not,” the other admitted, already scanning the aisles for whatever the man wanted. “But I don’t have any upcoming schedules as far as I know, and it’s just one meal. It won’t blow me up the size of a whale.”

He cranked his head to the side, nodding in mock contemplation. “Can I speak truthfully?” he asked. He didn’t know why he suddenly wanted candor from the other man, but it was going to help him get over himself in the long run anyways.

From somewhere over the rainbow, he heard a hum of affirmation. “Go ahead, Writer-nim,”

“I thought you wouldn’t even dare touch most of the things in here, much less sit in here,” he said, eyes trying to find his companion. “I thought you were too above these kind of things.”

He didn’t hear a reply until DJ-nim was sitting in front of him, offering Kyunghoon a cup of Shin Ramyeon (one of the spicier flavors that he hadn’t tried, but he liked spicy things, so it was edible).

“I was honestly thinking something more on the lines of ‘offensive’ and ‘discriminatory’ rather than polite curiosity before you asked that,” the other said, already scooping out some noodles. “So thank you for controlling yourself.”

He offered the man an apologetic smile, even though he probably didn’t see it. “If that’s not that offensive for you, I just wonder what made your standards change.”

The other just shrugged, slurping some of his soup. He got the cheesy ramyeon, and Kyunghoon had to control himself from stealing a bite for himself.

“I’m not all that different from the three of you, if that’s what you wanted to hear,” he said in between scoops, but despite the rather calm way he said it, the bite was still there. “I don’t see myself as above anybody here, so if I happened to show off some kind of superiority complex towards any of you, I’m sorry.”

Through his words, Kyunghoon felt the regret, sincerity, brief annoyance, and insecurity that the other was bearing on his chest. Kyunghoon felt as if he was loosing footing in the situation, and immediately saying whatever he did when they were just colleagues and nothing more. Stupidity showed up in Kyunghoon’s least needed moments, he saw.

As he finished his sentence, Kyunghoon immediately shook his head, and closed his laptop screen. “You never did,” he tried to assure, offering a small smile and chuckle (which wasn’t the best thing to do, but he was a little to stressed at the moment to care. “It just didn’t fit in with my image of you, DJ-nim, being an idol. It was a little unexpected, like that.”

He then felt the surge of calm from the others demeanor, and he mentally gave himself a high five for handling the situation. God, he was literally going to bolt if the other was going to get too angry or sappy on him.

At the pop of DJ-nim’s lips, he looked at the man. “What kind of image do you have of me, then?”

“Is this the prelude to a twenty-questions session?”

The other laughed, amusement making the atmosphere around them soften and brighten. “It is if you want it to be,” he answered.

Instead of affirming, he dived into the answer. “Well, a little bit arrogant from what I’ve seen,” he admitted, which earned him another chuckle. “And he’s also not that conscious of his fashion choices, but is actually a good DJ and also a good person to work with sometimes, in the perspective of Woohyun hyung and Minzy.”

He seemed to mull over Kyunghoon’s answer, eyes looking somewhere above with his mouth full and lips pursed. “Well, that’s pretty accurate,” the other evaluated. “But what’s your perspective of me as a colleague? Using the two PD-nims seems kind of like a cop out, I think.”

He smirked, eyes crinkling. “Well, you see, I’m still working on it,” he answered truthfully.

He couldn’t truly tell himself what he thought of the man as a colleague. He couldn’t get his eyes to see the other as anyone other than the man who hurt Kyunghoon before, and the man who took him away from something he loved. He needed to study the man a little more before he could answer, and he had to try to see him through the way he was with Minzy and his hyung before he could truly look at the man himself.

The other nodded silently, and just continued to eat his ramyeon. Kyunghoon then reached for the ramyeon that the other had brought for him, and started munching on it himself.

“If this is really going to be twenty questions, then what’s your image of me then?” he asked out of genuine curiosity, breaking the silence.

He received a smile before he got his answer. “In my mind, Writer-nim’s a silent guy, but he’s a little loud with the right people,” the other started. “He’s also a hard worker, and he doesn’t disappoint with the script. He loves to eat, and evade paying the bill. Then, he’s also a pretty hard nut to crack.”

“Are you trying to butter me up to get me to go to the party, or do you just want to play around?” he asked, eyes trained on the other. Even though the compliment may actually be some lip service, it didn’t fail to get his shoulders to stand out straighter.

DJ-nim craned his head to the side. “I actually forgot about that, since I thought I got your answer as ‘no’,” he admitted, smile still playing at his lips, with a. strand of noddle dangling from one side. “But it is whatever you want it to be, Writer-nim.”

He pursed his lips, enjoyment probably dancing around his eyes and veins. “Your turn to ask a question then, DJ-nim.”

“Hmm,” the other sounded, finger tapping the bottom of his chin. “How long have you been in the industry?”

“Five years with three different programs,” he answered easily. After taking a hearty scoop of soup and some noodles, he asked another question. “Have you been with any other radio shows?”

At the second he mentioned the word ‘other’, DJ-nim started to choke on his chopsticks. Kyunghoon laughed his ass off, hand banging the table as he heard gurgling sounds coming from his mouth. Soup was squirting from his mouth, and that was the only time Kyunghoon offered tissue towards the other.

“D-DJ-nim,” he said in between laughs, the color orange tinting his vision a little bit. “Was it something I said?”

The other gave him a sour look before grabbing the tissue out of Kyunghoon’s extended hand. “I thought you were asking me about my dating life,” the other said, embarrassment and annoyance coloring his voice. “But to answer your actual question, yes, but it was before my debut.”

“Aren’t you quick to jump to conclusions?” Kyunghoon noted, mirth buzzing through his skin.

“Hey! It’s still my turn to ask,” the older chided, finger wagging back and forth. “Then, who’s the best DJ you’ve worked with?”

“Jung Junyung-sshi,” he answered in an instant, enjoying the betrayal that glazed through the other’s eyes. “Do you have any pets?”

DJ-nim narrowed his eyes as he picked up a few noodle strands. “You know you can take some time answering questions, right?” he asked, to which Kyunghoon just smiled at. “But yes, I have three pets. I have a dog who’s been with me for almost two years, and his name’s Zorr. Then, I have two cats, Cherry and Han Jay Heebum.”

“Why would you name your cat with three names?” Kyunghoon asked, mouth possibly agape. Damn, and he thought the man’s fashion sense wasn’t questionable enough.

Instead of answering, the other wagged his finger in front of his face. “It’s my turn to ask a question, Writer-nim,” he reminded, to which he just rolled his eyes. “And, do you have any pets?”

He nodded stuffing his face with more of the spicy soup and noodles. He may be sweating like hell right now, but the noodles were too good to stop. “Her name’s Soonshim,” he said, words pretty gargled. “I mentioned her a while ago, I think.”

“I thought she was your friend or something,” DJ-nim confessed, licking some remnants from the corner of his mouth. “At least I was half right.”

Kyunghoon just bounced his head left and right, now feeling the sweat move along with him. He may be looking like a mess, but he was having a good meal, which was worth all the cons. He dabbed a 12-ply tissue around his face.

“Did I choose the wrong ramyeon for you?” he heard DJ-nim ask, concern laced in his voice.

Kyunghoon shook his head, but then smirked. “It’s my turn to ask,” he mirrored. “And I believe I asked my question already, so why?”

The man seemed to fumble with his chopsticks for a bit. A sudden stiffness and coldness was apparent in his stature, and he could feel it making the hairs on his arms stand up. “Pass,” the other said, not looking at him.

He accepted it wordlessly, slurping more of the ramyeon noodles from his hastily lightening cup. “By the way, this is may be my favourite ramyeon flavor, so thank you, DJ-nim,” he offered, trying to make the other lighten up a bit. “So is that your favourite kind of ramyeon?”

“I like cheesy things, or anything that doesn’t threaten to burn my mouth as much,” he answered, still not looking up from the cup. “I don’t have that high of a tolerance for spicy things as you do. I bought that thinking you’d cry your way through finishing it, but I guess I’m wrong.”

Kyunghoon laughed, seeing that the man was still a little devious in his own way. Maybe some little things did stay, but they didn’t bother him as much as before. “I guess you are, since I’m the master eater of all spicy and cold things,” he admitted. “I beat Woohyun hyung in eating both ice cream and ramyeon more times that I can count!”

That got the other’s attention. “Are you really then?” he asked further. “I bet I could top that,” he remarked with a wink.

“Pssh,” he sounded, rolling his eyes. “That’s what Woohyun hyung said too, but look who treated himself with a thirty thousand won dinner?”

The other coughed out a laugh. “This is the Universal Star we’re talking about here,” he said, challenge alight in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready to lose?”

Kyunghoon’s eyebrows shot up then. “Are we really going to do this right now?” he asked, eyes darting between his ramyeon cup and the man across him.

“If you don’t feel like it tonight, it’s fine,” he offered in return. “But we’ll be doing it with the two PD-nims. What do you want the stakes to be?”

Kyunghoon narrowed his eyes. “If I win, I get a week’s worth of free dinners,” he answered. “What do you want yours to be, even thought I’m pretty sure you’ll never get them, DJ-nim?”

The other hummed, looking at him intensely. “Well, what did I come here for?”

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “I believe in equality, so are you sure that’s it?” he said, crossing his hands over his chest. “I’m pretty sure that a week’s worth of dinner is a lot more in value than the Hallowe’en party.”

“Then, also treat me to alf a week’s worth of dinner,” the other countered, not thinking that much about his other request. “The choice will be on me, by the way.”

He waved a hand in his direction, pride making his shoulders lift up a bit more. “Go ahead, sure,” he said, voice aloof and projecting assurance. God, did he love the feeling of other people really thinking that they would be able to best Kyunghoon at what he was born to do.

“Should we shake on it?” DJ-nim asked, already extending his hand. He could feel the uncertainty that was embedded in the gesture, and he smirked. The guy was already scared of losing to him, probably.

With no hesitations, he firmly took the soft hand in his and shook it. All of the reluctance seemed to dissipate from the touch, and he saw some kind of happiness in the others eyes. A caress of sorts seemed to rush all over his skin, and Kyunghoon accepted it, feeling softer.

He looked into DJ-nim’s eyes and still saw the challenge burning softly in his eyes, and Kyunghoon smiled at that.

#

There was the soft murmur of typing coming from beneath Kyunghoon’s fingers as he typed in a note to Woohyun hyung. Their current listener who was on the phone had a more than long story, and even though it was certainly touching (to some people, maybe), she was going to eat up the time for their other listener on the line.

It was annoying how some of their callers were either obsessed with being on live radio, or were too engrossed with their own story to remember how there was a certain time limit to their presence on the program. Kyunghoon could feel his blood boiling at each sentence the woman on the line breathed out, and he didn’t know if his cap would be able to shield his anger from view.

Woohyun hyung probably noticed that he was getting a little to worked up, since he was interrupted from his reverie (about how  could be able to inconspicuously assassinate her) with a pop-up emerging from the screen.

I know the lady’s taking long, it read. He looked at Woohyun hyung was giving him a comforting look. It wasn’t working. But I think we can still afford it.

The longer she talks about her life after the affair, he wrote, a sour look on his face. The more I’ll lose my patience, so you better fuck up the reception. Got it, hyung?

Looking up, he already saw a vague look of disappointment on their PD-nim’s face, but he nodded weakly regardless. Minzy also had her thumb up, probably on it already. They were fumbling with some controls here and there, so the mission was already in motion. Even though It was a little bit rude, they’ve already been able to do what they were supposed to with their guest, which was to listen and give her some advice.

Now, he bet she was just fawning over their very own DJ-nim.

“Ah, yes 100100-nim,” their DJ-nim was currently saying, fingers tapping rapidly on their table. “If you were listening to last week’s broadcast – oh yes, you were! – then, just remember that the pain that comes with the euphoria will fade, and you’ll just be left with all the goodness and brightness of those memories.”

Even though he looked vaguely pissed off, hair ruffled and stature slightly slack, he was still able to make his words sound the most genuine they could be. The guy still had the audacity to wink at him while he quoted the line Kyunghoon wrote. He just stuck his tongue out to the man slightly. Hopefully, his fans didn’t see that.

“I will remember that, Heechul DJ-nim!” she said, excitement pouring out of her voice. For someone going through a rocky marriage, they were sure very optimistic regarding it. “I do have another…hello? Is there still anyone there?”

DJ-nim seemed to liven up a bit after listening to her experiencing the interference. “Hello, yes, 100100-nim? I think we’ll need to say goodbye now,” he said, trying to sound comforting, but he was too giddy to sound like it. “Thank you for calling us, and I’m hoping the best for your relationship!”

“Ye-yes, Heechul DJ-nim,” she said, sounding sad. It almost tugged at his heartstrings, but they were a minute to her overtime, so there was no loss there. “’Walking in the Moonlight, stay strong!”

DJ-nim laughed fondly. “Yes, thank you very much again!” he said, then the line was finally cut off. He swore that the other man breathed out a sigh of relief, but he immediately went on to reading from the script.

The broadcast went swimmingly from there, with Kyunghoon’s blood pressure going down to its normal level. Their second caller was a calmer and relatively normal listener, who talked about how his father was going to be moving out of the country to work. It was honestly a more touching story to Kyunghoon, or maybe it was the fact that he sounded a bit more bearable than the other woman who called. Well, at least their broadcast was going to end in a more familial note.

“And even like 5890-nim’s situation, I think that there will always be the good undertone to things that seem like losses,” DJ-nim continued, barely looking at the script, as if the words were coming out of his heart. This ticked him off a little bit, but he let it slide with a silent click of his tongue.

“We never really lose anything, since they will always be with us in the form of memories, or the little trinkets that we find in the little knacks and corners of the world,” he said to the microphone. “It is always natural to miss someone who has been in our lives for the longest time, but that doesn’t mean that we should only focus on the painful things that may be happening in the present. We can always look back and find that there were good things that happened, or even look into the future and see that maybe, things will get better even after it.

“Unlike things that are lost, you’ll still be able to be with us tomorrow at the same time, for Kim Heechul’s ‘Walking in the Moonlight’. Let us end this session with Lee Hi’s ‘Breathe’, and have a great night!”

The fans watching from the window erupted in their applause and whoo’s, and Kyunghoon found them to be more comforting than irritating today. He felt the support make his back stand straighter, and Kyunghoon accepted the extra strength that it gave him. He smiled a little, even though he knew the applause wasn’t directed towards him.

DJ-nim was waving at his supporters, sending them some flying kisses and waves. Go home, he mouthed towards them, adding in extra gestures so that they would be able to get the message. Oppa will be in here late, so don’t wait up on me! Good bye!

“Do you think you’ll be able to convince them to go home this time?” he said, taking off his headphones. As he turned off the monitor and the UPS, he could see his reflection in the computer screen. Damn, didn’t he look like Billy Ray-Cyrus today?

The other man didn’t hear him, but that was alright. He was still wearing headphones, and Kyunghoon was pretty sure he’d be talking to air. He got up his stuff and started to make his way to the control room.

“Honestly,” the other’s voice said, making him jump a little bit. “I don’t even know. I just hope for the best.”

Kyunghoon pivoted to look back at the man. His eyes were still trained on hi fans, smiling. Genuine concern, care, and love could be seen in the way that he looked at the girls and guys who were there outside, and it made his heart clench and stomach churn all the same. It was kind of sappy, but an admirable gesture altogether. He wanted to puke regardless.

“Maybe you can put down the blinds?” he offered, gesturing towards the remote for the windows. “Make them think you’re also going home already?”

At the suggestion, he shook his head lightly. “Then they might wait for me outside the building,” he pointed out. “And I wouldn’t want that either.”

This was certainly some love and care, but it was just a tad bit annoying at the moment. “Post something on SNS?” he tried again, stepping closer to the man. “Tell them that it’s okay to leave before you do?”

The other just hummed at his words, which Kyunghoon guessed was enough. DJ-nim was maybe making this out to be more complicated than it actually was.

“We can start to do our broadcasts with the blinds closed every now and then,” he said, head cocked to the side. “Just post about it, informing your fans. It might get a bit suffocating to see them outside when you’re here, trying to concentrate.”

Then, DJ-nim looked at Kyunghoon, seeming to scrutinize him. “That’s pretty smart of you, Writer-nim,” he remarked. “Do you want to start closing it tomorrow?”

He shrugged, balancing his weight back and forth. “I don’t think it will be that big of a thing, so yeah, possibly, DJ-nim,” he answered truthfully.

A few moments of silence lapsed between them, and Kyunghoon was actually pretty hungry already, so he just turned his back on the man and made his way to the control room. When he entered, Minzy was fixing a few of her stuff, but Woohyun hyung was looking at him intently. It irked him.

“What, hyung?” he asked, giving him a weird look. “Is it about the cap?”

Hyung cocked his head to the side before replying. “It’s that,” he admitted, but the look on his face didn’t cease. “And something else.”

“I’m hungry right now, hyung,” he said, making his voice an octave higher and sounding bratty. “And I don’t have time for your evasion tactic. What is it?”

“Are you and Heechul-sshi okay?” he asked, leaning forward from his chair.

He furrowed his brows at his hyung and took a seat on the nearest chair. “I’m hoping for them to be, actually,” he confessed, flinging his head to the general direction of the man. “I guessed you hyungs were right, and I needed to get my head out of my ass.”

Hyung’s eyebrow shot up at his words, and his jaw dropped a bit. “Kyunghoon-ah,” Woohyun hyung started, voice going a little more silent. “If this is for my sake, or anyone else’s for that matter, you don’t have to force yourself into befriending him, Kyunghoonie. Hyung’s fine with you being a little distant or cold towards him because you’re completely justified to do so.”

Kyunghoon sucked in a breath, and closed his eyes. He put a hand on his hyung’s shoulder, rubbing it. “Hyung, I’m doing this for me, and yes in the long run, you and Minzy too,” he said. “But it’s mostly for me to try and get away from my fear and stuff, so that I can move on.”

Woohyun hyung put his hand on top of Kyunghoon’s own, rubbing circles into his skin. “Are you okay, though?”

With a smile, Kyunghoon nodded firmly. He enveloped his hyung in a tight embrace, hoping to assure him with the gesture. He knew that his hyung was a bigass worrier, but there was nothing to worry about at the moment. Kyunghoon was still fine, and he could still stand on his own feet. His hyung didn’t have to overthink, and he didn’t have to think that it was because of himself that Kyunghoon was trying to be alright.

After a firm pat on the back from his hyung, Kyunghoon released Woohyun hyung from the hug. “Is there anywhere you want to eat dinner, Kyunghoon?” hyung asked, accompanied by a pat to his cheek.

“Hmmm, I –“

“Writer-nim!” a voice erupted from behind him, almost shattering his ear drums. “Did you forget about your challenge?”

At the word ‘challenge’, Minzy whipped her head around so fast that Kyunghoon might’ve thought that her neck snapped as well.

Kyunghoon rolled his eyes before turning to face the man. “DJ-nim, do you really think that you can win me?”

With the air of a taunt, the other bent down, stopping when they were face-to-face. “I’m doing this for the team, so I better be confident.”

“What’s this challenge, Heechul-sshi?” she asked, standing up from her seat and coming closer. “What are the stakes?”

DJ-nim stood up straight again, a slight smirk apparent on his face. “Writer-nim thinks that I can’t beat him in a ice cream eating challenge,” he informed. “And if I win, he is obligated to go to the Hallowe’en party…oh, and also treat me to half a week’s worth of dinner.”

“If I win,” he reminds the man. “You need to buy me a week’s worth of dinner, and then some.”

The other’s eyebrows raised, frowning slightly. “And then some?”

“I was just thinking that I was maybe too generous with my offer,” he said non-chalantly. “But you shouldn’t be afraid of that if you’re really that confident that you’re going to win.”

Minzy whistled then, eyes darting between the two of them. “Are we allowed to join?”

Woohyun hyung shook his head then. “Keep me the fuck out of this,” he said. “I just lost thousands to Kyunghoon last week alone. I’m broke.”

“Then can I join?” Minzy repeated, adamant. “Woohyun hyung can be the judge, and the provider of ice cream!”

“Deal,” he and DJ-nim said simultaneously, which just ended in them having a mini-staring contest between each other.

“Hey! I said I wouldn’t fucking…!” Woohyun hyung exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “Whatever, where do you guys want to go for this?” he conceded a few moments later, hand already scavenging for his wallet.

#

What the fuck, Kyunghoon thought, eyes going wide.

Looking around, he saw their jaws collectively dropping as DJ-nim finished his ice cream cone within twenty seconds of putting it into his mouth. Kyunghoon was barely halfway with his own ice cream (the pride and falsely given mercy causing him to eat slower than he could), and he really did wish that his ego wasn’t the size of the Namsan Tower every now and then.

“Ki-Kim Heechul-sshi wins!” Woohyun hyung declared belatedly, the amusement, surprise, and confusing mingled with his breath.

The lights in Woohyun hyung’s apartment perfectly lit up the smugness in the other’s face, and no matter how badly Kyunghoon wanted to wipe it off the other, he was still a little too frozen to do so. DJ-nim was looking at him now, fingers wiping off the chocolate that stained the side of his lips. In victory, the bright flame of success was there in his eyes, and the bastard once again had the audacity to wink at him.

“You should’ve kept your guard up, Writer-nim,” the man said, a playful smile on his clean lips. “I guess my image of you now will have a bigger ego than I thought it would.”

Minzy snorted at the man’s comment, and moved over to pat him fiercely in the back. “Thanks for securing us five whole tickets to the party, Heechul-sshi,” she said, a bright smile on her face. “And thank you, Kyunghoon oppa for your future dinner treats.”

Annoyed, Kyunghoon screamed.

#

“…we’ll need to cut down to two guest listeners today, especially since I found a rather good story from one of them today, who’s jin0007-nim,” Kyunghoon was saying, gesturing firmly at their program guide for the day. “Aside from that, everything’s all right with the plan.”

Woohyun hyung nodded silently, lips pursed. “So we’ll just have one more music break if ever the time with the latter guest cuts short,” he said to Minzy, who was furiously typing on her laptop. “Nothing else?”

The three of them nodded to their producer, all focused and preparing for their show that was to come. Wordlessly, their DJ-nim stood up and made his way already towards their recording room with only Kyunghoon’s gaze following him. Whenever they were about to go live on air, DJ-nim would be more silent than he would be on other days. His eyes would always be on the script that was prepared for him, and he wouldn’t say and funny talk until after the program. The contrast was obvious, but it still made Kyunghoon question here and there.

“Are you still mad at him for breaking your thirty-four second record?” Minzy then asked, not looking up at him.

He heaved out a sigh, slumping lower on his chair. “I’m not mad at the guy, nor was I,” he clarifies, skimming through his script a little more.

“Oppa,” she said, face morphed into one that was calling out his bullshit. “After you screamed your lungs out, you then proceeded to drink your weight in soju and sitting in silence,” she reminded.

Even Woohyun hyung agreed to her. “Remember that I let you puke on my new bedsheets, Kyunghoonie,” he warned, wagging a finger in his direction.

“At least I didn’t cuss the guy out,” he said, rolling his eyes. He took out his frustrations alone, and in all honestly he was just being a drama queen. Surely, the other man wouldn’t take it personally.

Hyung hummed. “Well, just remember that once you jeopardize office peace, you’ll be the one getting cussed out,” he said. “But then again, we would take you back into our arms, but still.”

Kyunghoon let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know that you love me, hyung, what’s new?”

“What PD-nim’s trying to say,” Minzy says, cocking her head to one side. “Is that you should make sure that Heechul-sshi’s okay.”

“Guys,” he sighs, hands coming to rub at his forehead. “DJ-nim’s fine, and there’s nothing that I need to apologize for or clear up. Regardless, I’ll be going now.”

Standing up abruptly, he grabs his things and his script and makes his way to the control room, dodging the sour looks he got from people he might’ve bumped on the way there.

Entering the cold room, he turned on all the lights, drowning the room in yellow mingled with white. It took his eyes a while to adjust from the brightness, and once he did, he saw that he was alone. Honestly, he thought that the guy was just a little bit lazy to turn on the lights himself, or too focused on his script reading to care about them, but apparently Kyunghoon was wrong.

He knocked on the walls, just to make sure the asshole wasn’t hiding anywhere. “Hello?” he called out to the small room. “DJ-nim?”

After a few more seconds of silence, he really wasn’t there. The clock fixed atop the producer’s table flashed 8:28, which meant Kyunghoon had about forty-five minutes to spare before they’d start with their show. He made his way towards the recording room.

Kyunghoon wasn’t all that accustomed to being in the room alone, since he’d often arrive with Woohyun hyung, or even arrive a minute before they would start airing (which earned a very heartfelt slap on the back afterwards). The emptiness of the room that was bathed in something akin to sunlight made the hairs at the back of his neck stand up, and he didn’t like it as much.

He started to plug in the electronics, then powering them on sequentially. The sounds of white noise and boot-up music filled the room, echoing. It was like an out-of-body experience almost, having him be alone in here, since he would usually hear the sounds of heavy breaths, buttons being pushed, and their DJ reading off from the script or laughing lightly to what a listener has said.

Kyunghoon wasn’t used to being alone like this anymore – not after years of having someone by his side.

The memories and faint fragments of emotions seemed to touch Kyunghoon more intimately now. Any specific one of them seemed to touch a part of himself that he hadn’t felt before. In the emptiness of a space, his senses were heightened, and that meant each and every one of them. He could hear Junyoung’s deep bass tone in the room again, which made his lips ache from a phantom smile. He could smell the iced americano that Woohyun hyung brought almost every session, which made his heartstrings tug. He could feel his hands trailing through Minzy’s hair when she cried on his shoulder, and the part itself remembered as well.

This room held so much memories for the four of them, and it was hard for Kyunghoon not to feel it all. This was their place. This is where they met their fullest potentials, and it was also where they were at their worst. It was private and sacred to Kyunghoon, and he wanted it to remain that way.

Striding over to the left side of the room, he gingerly pulled the curtain down, causing the yellowness of the lights to feel a little warmer.

He plopped down on his chair, spinning around a bit before setting his things up. As he was greeted with the same Windows start-up sound he’d been hearing for five years, he could feel a presence beside him to the right. It was there, calm and constant. There was also a certain softness and scalding brightness there was to it, and Kyunghoon didn’t need to look to his right to see who it was.

DJ-nim was making his own mark in the room as Kyunghoon had begun to see the man’s smile as he leaned forward towards the mic, like he always did. Kyunghoon saw DJ-nim stay behind, telling his fans to go home and make themselves warm while he, in turn, did not. He saw the same focused eyes and the tapping fingers on their table.

The room accepted him, and he also complimented it in turn. Kyunghoon was beginning to take that into consideration.

A knock on wood brought him back to reality.

“Yah, Writer-nim,” DJ-nim called, leaning on the doorway, script loosely hanging from his fingertips. “Set up everything way before time, I see.”

He lolled his head around, reveling in the sound of his bones popping. “Since I was here, I just figured why not.”

The other made his way to the table, cozying up in his spinny chair. “Is there anything you’d like to clarify with me?” he asked straightforwardly, voice even. “I get the feeling you never come here early.”

Kyunghoon gulped a bit, trying to supress the urge to gag. Was the guy a mind reader or something?, he asked himself. Wiping the back of his hand on his chapped lips, he looked the other in the eye. “You know that I don’t want to go to the Hallowe’en party, right?”

The man didn’t cease to flip through his script, keeping his eyes on the print. “But I’m aware that you lost on our mutually agreed challenge,” the other reminded.

“That sounds like something a LOL character would say or something,” Kyunghoon notes, shoulders relaxing a bit. “But you know that I’m going to go anyways, right?”

At the words, the man looked up from his papers. “I don’t think you’re that kind of person to go back on their own terms, Writer-nim,” he answered after a second of contemplation. “But then again, you can be showing a different side of you today!” he added cheerfully, which made Kyunghoon sneer.

“Just so you know,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not that kind of person, so I’m here to ask if you’re alright with a certain condition being added.”

They locked eyes for a moment, and Kyunghoon couldn’t help himself but smirk. “So?” the other man said, leaning towards him.

“In exchange for your first dinner deal out of four,” he started, clasping his fingers together. “I’d like you to help me pick something out. You know the theme that Minzy wants, and even though your fashion sense is shit, maybe being in the showbiz industry has taught you a thing or two.”

With a smile, DJ-nim raised his eyebrows. “You’re really a different type of person, Writer-nim,” he remarks, leaning back on his chair and laying the script back on the table. “You insult me even when you’re asking something from me.”

He huffed out a laugh at that. “Is it really that foreign?”

A hum just came as a response. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I might say yes,” he said, looking somewhere on the ceiling, head bobbing from one side to another. “As long as you agree for us to meet tomorrow at Lotte Mall, two o’clock sharp-ish.”

Kyunghoon choked on his own spit. “DJ-nim,” he said without a pause. “Are you sure about that?”

Smoothly, he got his script back and began flipping through it again. He had never seemed more pretentious until now. “If you can’t agree to those terms, then I guess you’re in bad luck trying to find your costume, Kyunghoon-sshi.”

He rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to rebut, but what came out wasn’t his voice, but  Woohyun hyung’s.

“Wow, our two new early birds!” he exclaimed, waltzing into the room while Minzy just eyed the two of them closely. “Are we all set?”

“I think so,” DJ-nim answered, once-ing over the recording room. “I don’t know anything about what’s going on on that side, so you’ll have to say for me.”

Kyunghoon looked over to their female producer, who was already prepping her station up. “Yeah, everything seems on and alive,” she answered, giving a thumbs up and a smile to Woohyun and DJ-nim only. He pouted.

“Yah, you guys,” Woohyun hyung said, pointing to something on their left. “Why’re our curtain closed?”

At the question, he saw DJ-nim’s eyes widen a bit and look towards the beige curtains that were brought down. Worried that he might have fucked something up (or taken the other’s words too seriously), he tried to feel for any tremble of unpleasant surprise that came from the other. Instead, he found the whirling mixture of confusion and something more akin to gratefulness rather than anything else. He exhaled and slouched on his chair.

Kyunghoon allowed his hyung to explain, since honestly, Kyunghoon didn’t want a possible beating to weigh him down while he would be trying to micro-manage the program. He was picking at the bottom of his fingernails, pursing his lips as he waited for DJ-nim’s voice to come out. The longer the seconds passed, the longer he could feel Woohyun’s heavy gaze at the side of his head, so he looked towards the man who was supposed to save his ass not drag it deeper, and saw that he was still looking there.

The man seemed to be a little frozen as he was looking towards the now opaque side of their room, and Kyunghoon didn’t really know why. It was just the simple act of closing the window to him – it wasn’t as if Kyunghoon threw out a magic portal in there somewhere. Then again, he could feel the shaking feeling of uneasiness tremble out from his stance, so who was he to judge.

He just looked towards Woohyun hyung and shook his head, and he saw his hyung drop his head and begin to setup the equipment in the control room. It was easy for his hyung to move over certain things, and Kyunghoon was thankful that that skill wasn’t exclusive to him. They continued to mind their own businesses, walking around here and there before Kyunghoon sat down and felt a pair of eyes on him.

“What’s up, DJ-nim?” he asked, trying to imply that he meant the question in both a professional sense and in an did-you-have-an-existential-crisis sense.

“Should we put the curtain back up?” came his reply, paired with a nervous gaze. “There….there might be a lot of people with something to say about th–“

“Do you want to put the curtains back up, DJ-nim?” he interrupted, looking the other straight in the eye. “I can do it, if you want, just tell me.”

The other man smacked his lips together, eyes flickering from side to side. Kyunghoon could feel the cold shivers of anixety making their way up his hands, causing him to shiver. He caught the other’s hands in his own and rubbed familiar patterns onto them. Dammit, it was less than twenty minutes before they were supposed to go on air, and he was not going to have his DJ freak out before it.

“DJ-nim, I’ll be putting the blinds back up, okay?” he asks, more to inform than to affirm. “I’m sorry that I did it without your knowledge, but you’ll have to calm down for me now, please?”

He said his words in hushed tones, in whispers of breath that travelled less than five inches between their faces. Proximity to another person helped him calm down, and maybe it would be able to help him. The more that his senses were bombarded with human stimulus, the more he felt his heartbeat calm and his trachea ease. Judging by the way the other man’s cold hands seemed to warm, he guess that it worked just as well.

“Do you want me to ask for a sip of Woohyun hyung’s Starbucks?” he asked, getting up from his seat and moving over to where the controller for the blinds was. He kept his eyes on the other man while doing so, and he saw that DJ-nim wasn’t as curled up anymore, and was more slouched on his chair. That was improvement.

He saw the other nod faintly between unsteady breaths. “Maybe try to keep the windows closed like a little bit?” DJ-nim suggested, running a hand over his face.

“Sure thing,” he said as he did what the other asked.

After he stepped int the control room, he already had everyone’s attention. Minzy looked about ready to slice up a bitch, and she didn’t even know what went on. However, it was Woohyun hyung who spoke first.

“Is he alright?”

Kyunghoon nodded firmly, pursing his lips. “He had cold feet, that’s all,” he said, since that was what happened as far as he knew. “He does need some of that Starbucks, though.”

Woohyun hyung gave him the cup immediately, and some selfish part of Kyunghoon felt betrayed at how easily his hyung handed him the drink when it was for someone else. “Tell him he can finish it if he wants,” he added, eyebrow raised. “But is he alright to be on a broadcast?”

At that, Kyunghoon looked at the other man who was already looking back and forth at the script (with the occassional glance at either the newly opened window or to them, but he didn’t take notice of that). “Trust in our DJ-nim, hyung,” he said instead, clasping the other at the back.

“Was this because of the blinds?” Minzy asked, arms crossed over her chest. “Or was this because of last night?”

He sighed, shoulders slackening. “Minzy-yah,” he started, head turned down to the floor. “I’m not that kind of person, and I clarified that he was not hurt by my attitude, remember?”

After a few seconds of her gaze literally setting fire to his shit-show of hair, he exited the room and handed the iced americano over to the man. “Are you okay?” he asked, plopping down once again on his chair, highlighting a few things here and there on their script document.

From his peripheral vision, he saw the other man nod absently. “Don’t worry about me,” he said, dodging the question.

With another heavy sigh, he propped his elbow up on their table and extended his hand. He turned his head a fraction towards the other man and saw confusion written all over. Well, wasn’t the other man going through a lot of thinking because of Kyunghoon today?

“I’m offering you my hand, so if you don’t want to hold it, it’s okay,” he explained, flapping the extended arm around. “I’m not looking down at you or anything, it’s just that my hyungs and I usually do this when we’re unstable.”

“Are you calling me unstable?”

Kyunghoon raised his eyebrow at the other. “I wouldn’t say that this is your most stable state before doing a broadcast.”

“Seven mintues!” Woohyun hyung’s voice blasting into his headphones, making him wince. From the other side of the room, hyung had seven fingers raised up accordingly while his eyes seemed to promise a place in the seventh circle of hell if they weren’t getting ready.

At the sight of Kyunghoon’s discomfort, the other man raised up his own eyebrow. Kyunghoon tapped his headphones as an explanation, and DJ-nim put on his own. After he did so, his left hand interlocked with Kyunghoon’s own and swayed it around a bit.

A small smile made its way up Kyunghoon’s lips, and he let out a small laugh. Using his other hand to buffer the microphone, he turned to the other man. Don’t squish it too hard when you’re going to say a cringy line, hyung, he mouthed.

Heechul-hyung’s eyes widened a milimeter before he responded. As much as you’d like that, don’t count on it, he replied, the teasing note of his words coming out on his face.

There was no more sign of the reluctance or discomfort that Kyunghoon had felt from the man minutes ago. He was back to the calm, light, and composed DJ that he had come to see whenever they were to record their radio show.

“Four minutes!”

As the other cleared his throat and adjusted the position of the mic, he still saw the slight shudders from his fingertips to his chin. He started to draw patterns on the other’s skin again, squeezing the other’s hand. Heechul-hyung didn’t notice him doing so, but he could feel the last recesses of anxiety leaving through the other’s skin little by little.

Kyunghoon proceeded to scroll through their script for today, but he couldn’t focus on anything much (caused by both Kyunghoon’s massive ego and the fact that he’d read through it too many times to count). Enjoyment of new things was what they were going to be talking about, and maybe Kyunghoon’s own words were beginning to speak to him a little bit. There was the novelty of discovery that aroused the mind and the senses, and that was what he was feeling at the moment.

He didn’t have to conjure up a new emotion or new experiences when he was writing the script, and he didn’t notice that until now. He was writing from his own eyes for this piece, but it was alright. The more personal Kyunghoon tended to get, the better the response they would get from their listeners. This new feeling was something that Kyunghoon was alright with sharing to the world, as was most things that have been newly found.

At the slow beat of the other’s pulse that resonated with the upcoming passion that was coming out from his heart, he felt his own heart beat in sync. There was the same love and will for what they were doing right now, which was talking with people on the radio, and trying to help them through words crafted with so much effort. It was comforting others through the music that played through their speakers, and the right adjustments of volume and timing.

For the first time, he appreciated having the other beside him to do so – to complete what they were here to do with the same amount of heart put into it.

He squeezed the other’s hand for one last time, then he started to hear the familiar melody.

“Good evening, and welcome to Kim Heechul’s ‘Walking in the Moonlight’,”

February 2007

“Who the fuck are you, rookie?”

He fought to keep his heartbeat steady, breathing in through his nostrils and breathing out through his mouth. He wasn’t going to cry, and not in front of a stuck-up pain in the ass. He was just going to ignore the guy.

Kyunghoon leveled his eyes to the same red-haired abomination of a person that had been bothering him whenever they were given the opportunity. “Would you excuse me, I have somewhere else to be,” he said calmly, trying to side-step his way out of the guy’s way.

Kyunghoon was back in the balcony area that he liked the most, and wow, wasn’t this guy just threatening to make that change. God, he was just trying to make his way out of the fucking place. It wasn’t as if he was trying to start a fucking fight just by not greeting a person who didn’t seem to be interested in returning the favour.

At his movement, the other guy matched it perfectly, still blocking his way. “What year did you come out of your low-life company’s womb, rookie-sshi?”

The amount of disgust that was laced into the other’s words cut deep within Kyunghoon, and the rush of adrenalin that seemed to be flowing through his veins dulled the pain, but replaced it with anger. He felt his blood race faster through his veins, a white noise threatening to deafen him. “Sorry, but I need to be somewhere,” he said, covering up his annoyance with a polite laugh.

The red head clicked his tongue, angling his face so that it would seem like he was looking down at him. Fuck that. “I’m sorry, but it was you who blocked my way first,” the other stated, feet rooted firmly on the ground. “I’m just returning the favour.”

Suddenly, a hot rush of anger pierced through Kyunghoon’s spine, igniting more nerves in his body that Kyunghoon thought was possible. A part of thread seemed to snap inside Kyunghoon, and he closed his eyes before responding. “I’m sorry, but I think you weren’t watching where you were going, so it was technically you who bumped into me.”

The other seemed to find Kyunghoon amusing, and that just made the thread break even more. “Ah, so are you saying that it’s my fault?”

“It’s not me who’s saying that but the evidence,” Kyunghoon bit back, trying once again to get his way past the man sans any indicators of aggression or wishes of violence. “So please, let me pass so we can both go on our merry ways.”

Surprisingly, the other did turn to one side, clearing the way for Kyunghoon to go on the waiting elevator. Sadly, Kyunghoon accepted his defeat a little too quickly, and that’s how he ended up with his face on the floor and his hands burning from the impact.

“See you sometime else, rookie,” the redhead said, fingers waving goodbye as he walked away.

God, he wanted to cuss the other out. He wanted to land in his fist in the other man’s cheek. He wanted to see blood gush out from his mouth, to feel the bones cracking beneath his knuckles. He wanted to see the other man begging Kyunghoon for his life, or even see that disgusting smirk drowned in red, but he knew he wasn’t going to get that.

With a deep huff of hot air, Kyunghoon stood up by himself, glaring at the silhouette of the other making his way to wherever the fuck he pleased. Wordlessly, he stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor, hoping that he remembered well enough.

He needed to calm down, but the amber flares of aggression could still be felt at the bottom of Kyunghoon’s heart.

#

The nagging and intense feeling of irritation was still sticking to the pit of his stomach, even as he made his way out of whichever tented restaurant he chose to eat his feelings in that night. He couldn’t take his mind off of the lava-headed dick for the whole fucking day. His performance wasn’t hindered by it (he always seemed to loosen up on the stage, and his thoughts faded away except one, which was to perform like his life depended on it), but his everything else was.

His hands couldn’t settle on whether they wanted to stay in his pockets or be swaying out. He couldn’t stop fixing his long hair. He kept on popping and puckering his lips to no end. Thank God there wasn’t anyone who recognized him that night, or else they’d just worsen his mood. He let out a breath, finding some content in the way he made a small cloud in front of him.

“Hello, excuse me,” a voice behind him said, coupled with a timid finger to his shoulder.

Well, he always did speak too early. He turned around and was met by a pair of innocent eyes and a small smile. He was irked by it, but maintained his own false one. “Yes, hello? Is there something wrong?”

The male stranger let out a laugh and shook his head. Why the fuck would you call me then, he thought, feeling the little monster cut his nerves one by one. “I was just wondering if you had your parking ticket?”

“Uhm, what?”

“Your parking ticket,” the other repeated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Kyunghoon let out a nervous laugh and began to inch a little closer towards the streetlight. If he was about to be murdered, at least it would be underneath the spotlight in a relatively busy street. “That doesn’t seem to be right sir,” he reasoned politely, gesturing towards where he came from. “There’s no parking space for that restaurant.”

With the heat of the other’s gaze, he could feel the enjoyment that seemed to come off in waves from the other. The orange light of the streetlight highlighted his sharp features, which made him look a little more sinister than a human should be. There was the pleasure written in his lips, and there was also the anticipation plastered in his facial expression. Did he look that much like prey for two guys to want to bully him today?

Kyunghoon wanted to run.

At his response, the male laughed and ran a hand through his hair. He tilted his head in such a way that exposed his collar bones and neck. “That musn’t be right?” he said, voice voming out to be a little deeper now. Kyunghoon took a step back, and felt the last of his nerves breaking one by one. “I swore that you parked yourself right into my heart –“

As the man tried to reach for his face, Kyunghoon grabbed it by the wrist and twisted. The other screamed, and fell to his knees. “Yah!” he exclaimed, agony now filling his eyes.

They irked him again, so he might as well have pleasure of closing them for the man. He grabbed the guy’s collar by his left hand, looking him straight in the eye. “Don’t fucking try me,” he gritted through his teeth, and lifted his right hand up. He punched the guy’s face, relishing the way the impact of the punch stung against his knuckles. He did it again,

And again.

And again.

Kyunghoon looked at his hand and saw that it was painted with blood.

“Kyunghoon-ah!”

#

The air was crisp and chilly in their garden, but it wasn’t able to put a temper to Kyunghoon’s anger. His face felt too hot, and his guts felt the same. The way his two hyungs were looking at him were both wary, yet having a certain heat in them. The whole garden around them seemed to be emitting a orange aura, and that just meant that Kyunghoon was well too out of his own width.

“Kyunghoon, sweetie,” Yejoon hyung started, hands raised up over his head. “Everyone loves you, but you’ve got to stop being so angry today.”

At his hyung’s words, the flame just seemed to burn brighter. “Well, you should have been more careful of where you leave me, don’t you?” he quipped, eyes going wide.

“You don’t just punch a man because they ask for you parking ticket!” Woohyun hyung exclaimed from the side, fingers pulling at his dyed hair. “God, you better be thankful the guy didn’t try press charges, Kyunghoon-ah!”

He let out a partial scream, which caused Yejoon hyung to stiffen while Woohyun hyung’s posture seemed to mimic his own. “The look in his eyes seemed like he was saying something else!” he reasoned, remembering the way the other’s eyes looked at Kyunghoon for too long, and the way he seemed to smile to much. “He was annoying!”

“You don’t punch strangers because you think they’re annoying! We went to the police station, Min Kyunghoon!” Woohyun hyung exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

“As if you–“

“Kyunghoon-ah, stop,” a soft voice behind him said. At the touch of a hand at his nape, he felt his shoulders ease a little bit. “Why don’t you drink a little to calm down? Before talking about it?”

Closing his eyes, he let out a breath. He had the gall to fight with any of his four hyungs, but fighting with Junki hyung was a fight he never wished to have again. It was too painful to do so, and he’d only end up losing because sadly, he was born into the world where he was always right (somehow). Without any last look or word to his two hyungs, he made his way to his dining room, where Seonghee hyung was already waiting.

As soon as he sat down, and once Junki hyung left them for a bit to talk with the other two, the probing began. “What happened today, Kyunghoon?”

“You were there for it, hyung,” he reminded, leaning over the table to get a bottle of soju. “And I thought that I needed to calm down first before talking to anyone again?”

Cocking his head to Junki’s direction, he smiled a little. “He meant the two Dumbos, not me,” hyung explained, shoving in a mouthful of chips and meat into his mouth. Hyung seemed to be a little to lax regarding the subject of them being brought into the police station, but he liked it that way. “So have you calmed down yet, or should we follow what your hyung said?”

He shrugged in response, wincing at the sight of his wounded knuckles. “Go ahead, I’ll listen,” he said, downing a long gulp of the alcohol. It made him feel warm again, but this time, in the way that was more recreational than irritating.

“I don’t need you to listen, Kyunghoonie,” Seonghee hyung said, shaking his head. “I need you to talk.”

“I’ll do that too,” he promised, licking his lips. There was only the one light open in his house, so that his parents wouldn’t wake up too easily, and it was right at the center of their dining table. It casted shadows behind his hyung, overwhelming him a bit.

Seonghee nodded, then his gaze turned a little colder than it was. “There was something a bit more than self-defense there, even though the guy conceded that it might have been,” he said, twining his fingers together and resting his chin on top of them. “What else was there?”

“It was just self-defense there, hyung,” he pressed, taking another swing. He didn’t know what else he wanted to hear, since it was the truth. “Nothing more.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Then why did you punch him?”

“…Self-defense,” he repeated as-a-matter-of-factly. He raised an eyebrow, but the other’s expression didn’t change a bit.

“The police said that you almost dislocated his arm,” Seonghee continued. “Both of you also established that as he was about to touch you, you did that. Wasn’t that enough for you?”

He gulped down a bit of saliva. “Insurance, then,” he said. “He has another arm.”

Seonghee hyung rolled his eyes at that. “Did something happen today, Kyunghoon-ah?”

“Nothing much,” he said, since it more or less felt like that. “We performed and I wanted some alone time, so you guys left me at the restaurant and ate somewhere else,” he recounted, then his eyebrows shot up immediately. “But you guys leaving me isn’t the problem, hyung, I wanted it so it’s fine!”

With a small smile, hyung nodded slightly. “Yes, I guessed that,” he reassured in a warm voice. “But I meant before we performed…after you came back from the rooftop, you seemed irritable.”

He felt his ears color, and was thankful for the darkness that surrounded him. “Nothing much, as I said,” he admitted. It felt like nothing, he repeated to himself.

“Did something piss you off?” hyung pressed, leaning forward which let the light brighten his face a little bit.

Kyunghoon could feel his blood pressure getting higher and his heart beat faster. He didn’t want his hyungs to worry, since some asshole wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t something to fret over, and the fact that they probably weren’t going to see each other again was something that Kyunghoon could lean on. This would pass someday, and his hyungs didn’t need to know about something this petty in his life.

“Hyung, maybe I really just hated the guy on gut feeling alone, okay?” Kyunghoon sighed out, voice coming out smaller. As long as there were no sightings or charges placed, they were going to be fine. He wanted this topic of conversation to end.

The tone of his voice made hyung frown. “You can tell me anything, you know?” his hyung asked, worry clearly placed on his voice. “I know that you feel things…a little differently, so it’s fine if you act on them, but God, Kyunghoon, act on them in a safe way,” his hyung chided.

He smiled, sliding the bottle of soju to his hyung. “Have a sip for yourself too, hyung,” he offered, a brighter tone now in place. “You might get a little too sappy on me now, okay?”

The lights from outside the kitchen corridor turned on, bleeding in more light into the room. Junki hyung peeked his head in, a small smile in place, just like always. “Are you ready to talk about it all together, Kyunghoon-ah?”

He nodded, feeling the comfort and forgiveness take up it’s presence in the room. They all calmed down, and they were going to be all right.

Kyunghoon wasn’t going to fuck it up.

Chapter Text

October 2018

“Good morning, Mom,” he greeted, pecking her on the cheek as she put down the egg rolls and buns they were having for breakfast. The kitchen always smelled the best in the mornings, and it was usually Kyunghoon’s best time of the day. Sadly, these moods didn’t last very often, but he was slightly praying a little bit more today.

Even though his Mom was verging on the age of sixty-five, she was still as strong as she was when Kyunghoon was still a child. No matter how much he insisted that he do the chores around the house, he would always come home to the house made and dinner ready on the table. Dad also wanted Mom to stop being so active around the house, but this time it was only because it made him look bad (it didn’t really).

Mom was humming a tune that was most probably from the forties today, without one drop of sweat dripping from her forehead. Damn, he really wished he got more of her stamina. She gestured towards the food with a  knowing smile while she went back to the stove area to procure more of what she prepared.

“Dad!” he called, craning his neck so that it would stick out from their kitchen island and more towards their living room. “The TV’s pretty bad anyways, so let’s eat!”

At his words, he heard some scuffling, then followed by his father pacing his way towards the island. “As if I was really watching the morning television for the plot, son,” he said as he placed a kiss at the crown of his head. “I think Go Ara was there, and you know how it goes –“

Dad was cut off by a slap at the back of his head. “Did you marry that bitch, or this bitch standing in front of you, huh?” Mom chided, a frown set upon her face that made him laugh. “Don’t make me give your serving to Soonshimie, sweetie.”

With a slight shiver, Dad lowered his head immediately and skewered some egg rolls on his fork. “A-Anyways, Kyunghoon-ah, what do you have against morning TV?” he asked, shoving food into his mouth as if his life depended on it. “It’s good enough if you sit through the bad acting, you know.”

Kyunghoon rolled his eyes, scooping in some rice for himself while putting some for his parents as well. “The thing is I don’t want to sit through it, since it’s too painful for me to bear,” he explained, voice still coming out a little raspy. “And if you wait for like two hours or more the better variety shows and stuff start to air anyways, so why bother?”

“And this is Saturday, honey,” his Mom added, bringing the last servings of pancakes and sitting down. “You’re watching the weekend morning dramas, which is just sad. But at least you’re awake, though, and that’s –“

“Hey! I wake up this early everyday, dear, what do you–“

“Dad, you were late for work yesterday and screamed at Soonshimie for it,” he reminded, not bothering to raise his head up from his plate.

His mother hummed in agreement, her mouth set in a straight line. “And I got a call from one of your coworkers saying that you were late, and your other coworkers were mad at you for it.”

“Fucking Changsoo-sshi can’t keep his mouth shut,” Dad muttered under his breath. “But that just meant I was having a bad week!”

Mom reached from across the table and pat Dad’s shoulder, condescending smile on her lips. “Well work harder then, love,” she said, warmth nestled in her words there somewhere.

Kyunghoon could feel the love and contentedness from his Mom’s cooking today, which was good since it made the food taste even better. The egg roll was even sweeter, the pancakes were finely mixed with the flavors perfectly balanced, the kimchi tasted better, and even the rice had it’s own charm. It warmed Kyunghoon up and energized him after each bite he took. He loved it.

The sound of spoons and forks hitting the plate filled the house, and he could hear the faint sound of Soonshim barking at other dogs from outside. It was sunny out, which meant that she probably wanted to stay out rather than go in. Thank fuck their hot streak ended already, since he relished the feeling of it being cold enough to sleep in the evening without the need for the airconditioner. It was also more beneficial towards their bill.

“Oh yeah, Kyunghoon,” his mom said suddenly, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Your brother called yesterday.”

He lifted his head up and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Mom nodded. “Yeah, he said that his daughter’s turning into a big fan of your radio show,” she relayed, a small smile gracing her lips.

A sudden feeling of pride made its way to his head. “Really?” he asked again, his shoulders standing out a bit more. “Did he say why?”

“Oh, she’s been listening to it every night now,” his mom continues, making him feel that she had the same kind of pride that he was feeling at the moment. “He says it’s because of your new DJ, Kim Heechul?”

Well didn’t those spirits just come and go, huh? “Oh yeah?” he asked, missing the beat he had before. “He’s really good isn’t he? DJ-nim?”

Mom nodded, getting some more of their bean sprouts and giving some to her two boys. “Yeah! Ilhoon says that your niece really likes the way he talks, especially when it comes to the better lines of your script.”

His ears twitched. “What do you mean ‘better’ lines in my script, Mom?”

“Kyunghoon-ah, you compared patience to a pencil,” his dad reminded, chopsticks pointed at him. “Not really your best feat.”

He heaved in a breath, blood rushing a little bit faster. “Isn’t it a little bit poetic?” he asked, gesturing fiercely.

“Is it really?” his dad responded, shoulders bunching up and his lips pointed down. “But besides that, Ilhoon also complimented you about last night’s show! It made him miss his wife a little bit less now that she’s working in Jeju.”

The heat left Kyunghoon’s head and settled on his ears. “Wow, he really had the time to listen to it, huh?” he commented, lips formed in a small smile.

Ilhoon hyung wasn’t living with them anymore for five years, which was ever since he got married. Kyunghoon visited their house every now and then, to play with his niece and nephew (and also their PlayStation 4, which he had to fight for every time) and catch up here and there. Hyung was a director in an entertainment company, which he hated just a little bit, but which also meant that the workload was quite hectic, and he came home late to his knowledge. The fact that he had even listened to a portion of their show made Kyunghoon feel immense pride, that he couldn’t help but laugh.

He felt his mother’s smooth touch on his shoulder, squeezing him fondly. “You’re doing so great, baby,” she said, eyes crinkled up.

“Thanks, Mom,” he replied, placing a hand on top of hers. “You know that I get those skills from you, right?”

All of a sudden, his father coughed. “Excuse me, son,” he said, hand balled in front of his mouth. “But among the three of us here, who is an editor?”

“I bet Mom did that too in her past life, Dad,” he said, sticking his tongue out in his direction. Like his younger brother instead of his Dad, he returned the gesture.

Mom cleared her throat, looking at her two men like they’d just given her the worst present of her lifetime. “Both of you, just finish your meals,” she commanded, fatigue coating her voice. “I want to get out of this table already.”

In spite, Dad looked Mom in the eye and fed lifted his spoon to his mouth in the slowest speed possible. As he finally fed himself his to-be last serving of rice and egg, Mom grabbed his plate from under him before he could even process what happened. As if it were an everyday occurrence, she just plainly smiled at Kyunghoon as she began to shove all of Dad’s food onto his plate.

“You need to eat more, baby,” she cooed, not even glancing towards Dad, whose mouth was hanging open. “We need to fuel you up for whatever good deeds Buddha wants you to accomplish today.”

Oh, right. “Oh yeah, Mom,” he said, wincing a little bit at how reproaching he sounded. “I’m going to go out today with K-Kim Heechul-sshi. We need to buy a costume.”

He saw his mother’s hand fidget from where it was holding the plate. He also saw Dad’s mouth shut closed. “You’re going with Kim Heechul-sshi, Kyunghoonie?” his mother asked, voice turning out smaller tan it was a few minutes ago.

One, then two seconds. He nodded stiffly. Suddenly, the air in the kitchen felt a little too suffocating, and the stares that his parents cast on him felt a little too heavy on his head. A million emotions of concern, surprise, sadness, and anger made their way around the room, making it even colder than the weather forecast said it was going to be.

It was as if his parents didn’t blink as they looked at him, then look between each other – sharing a secret conversation that he didn’t even know how to decode. They knew about what happened all those years ago, and they were also there to see how that time made Kyunghoon. They saw everything. He should have expected this kind of reaction.

“Isn’t Woohyun-ah there with you in your broadcast?” Dad asked, voice coming out sharper than before.

He gulped. “Yes, Dad,” he affirmed, leveling his gaze as steadily as he could. “We talked about it between each other, and I didn’t want personal feelings to interfere with the quality of our broadcast, you know?”

“Yes, we understand, but Kyunghoon-ah,” his mother said with the calmest tone she had. “We haven’t been prying your relationship with your new DJ since we thought that it wouldn’t be for the best...we know how you prefer to open up on your own.”

Dad nodded, tilting his head towards his son. “We’ve been playing it safe and casual, just like you asked us to when the news came along, Kyunghoon-ah, remember?”

“Yes, I do,” he answered, nodding his head. “So that it would be easier for this to seem like nothing, and for it to –“

“’Pretend like nothing happened and start over’, yes,” Dad quoted, making air quotations in the air. “But now we want to ask, if that’s okay, Kyunghoon-ah. So, are you on speaking terms with the man?”

Kyunghoon nodded.

“Are you still hurting because of it?” Mom asked, placing her hand on his thigh, making swirling patterns on his bare skin.

As if he wouldn’t, he thought bitterly, but they didn’t have to know that. He shook his head. A small smile creeped on his mother’s face when she saw his answer. Relief flooded through her touch, defrosting his nerves a bit.

He heard his father crack his knuckles. “Is he still the same dickhead you met all those years ago?”

Kyunghoon didn’t know what to feel when the answer came to him so rapidly and with such clarity. He shook his head firmly.

“Are you sure that you can still do this, Kyunghoon-ah?” his father followed-up, leaning forward on his one thigh, gaze steel-like.

He didn’t make a move to answer, since he didn’t want to lie about this one.

Kyunghoon felt multiple levels of insecurity and the lack of trust in his own judgement of trying to keep these things in the past. Seonghee and Woohyun hyung said that his feelings were justified, and he didn’t have to let his feelings and memories live and let die. He didn’t have to be civil, and most of all he didn’t have to stick his neck out and try so much when it plagued him all these years.

Yet, he felt those feelings lessen, and he knew that they weren’t going to be growing pains anymore. He saw that he himself was learning how to cope better and deal better in terms of that. He saw himself learning more about growth and change and he found himself more or less inspired by it himself. He wanted to have some more armor covered against his heart, in comparison to how it was scarred and vulnerable.

He needed to.

He didn’t know if he really was going to.

He was going to go out with the man later.

“Kyunghoon-ah, we’re here for you, and your hyungs are too,” Mom said, pulling him back to the table. “Don’t think you’re alone like before, alright?”

“That’s true, son,” his father added, reassuringly. “We’re here.”

With a  small smile, he felt all the love and support that was in their hearts, making his bones mend stronger and the scars fade. “I know that, don’t worry.”

#

The sun shone from outside Lotte Mall, offering some semblance of warmth to Kyunghoon even as he was freezing in the seventh circle of hell at that moment. Fuck, he didn’t know why the weather didn’t attempt to agree with him whenever he wanted to go out (especially since he rarely fucking does). It was like nature punishing him for the sins he committed in all his past lives collectively.

He was just so fucking tired of it, even if the mounds of snow made the sidewalk look like a mini-winter wonderland. He opened his phone, and held the number seven on his keypad. After a few rings, he heard the voice of the person who inadvertently make him stand there.

“Hello, Kyunghoon oppa?” Minzy’s voice made its way through the speaker of Kyunghoon’s phone. It was pretty choppy, and he hated the fact that snow even managed to fuck up the reception.

“Hmmm, Minzy-ah?” he mumbled to the mic, voice trembling from the cold. “Do you have DJ-nim’s number?”

He heard a surprised note sound from the other end. “Yeah….why don’t you?” she asked, which sadly felt like a slap on his face.

“Am I supposed to?” he asked, feeling the edges of his nerves chip off one by one.

“Once again, we have a kakao group, oppa,” she reminded, also sounding mildly irritated herself. “It’s great that you’re already reading and sending your own update e-mails, but damn, you really better get with the times, ahjusshi.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a puff of air. “Just give me the fucking number,” he demands, literally feeling his ass cheeks clap because of the cold. “The bastard told us to meet at two o’clock sharp. It’s almost three, so I really wanna –“

A tap on his shoulder pulled him out in the middle of his rant, and now wasn’t the fucking time. “Excuse me, but I’m pretty preoccupied with this – oh, DJ hyung-nim, you’re here.”

The man was dressed for the weather with an enormous parka on, which was probably for the best to possibly hide another one of his anime shirts. It would have aggravated Kyunghoon even more. The man’s curly hair was bunched up in a cap, and he was once again wearing a black mask. He looked like a mugger. He said that out loud.

“Wow, Writer-nim,” he greeted, voice muffled. “You greet me like trash even when we’re going to be spending the day together out of my own free will.”

He rolled his eyes again in a much lighter manner. “Well, I was in need, so thank you again,” he said, forgetting his phone was still in his hand.

“Is that Minzy-sshi?” hyung asked suddenly, pointing to the phone. “I think I can still hear her speaking…”

Kyunghoon put a hand up for him to wait a moment as he put their coworker on speaker. There, her string of curses was right out there for the world to hear.

“–just remember that it was your shitty ass that called me here, and now you’re just leaving me to hang after you leave your sentenced unfinished? I have a fucking family to be with right now, oppa, and I’d just like to remind you that this isn’t fucking work related, since you would have asked Woohyun oppa for this, you dumbass –“

“Minzy-sshi! It’s Heechul!”

“Oh, Heechul-sshi!” she warmly greeted, all recesses of her anger dispersed. What a fake. “Kyunghoon oppa was just asking for your number, but it’s good to see that he doesn’t need it anymore~.”

The man hummed, and he could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, we’re in Lotte Mall together right now,” he reported. “We’re going to get each other’s Hallowe’een costumes already.”

Kyunghoon could hear the approval in their PD’s hum. “Make sure to abide by the theme! It’s going to be the Avengers now, so you better find something that works, Heechul-sshi! I trust you with this.”

Dj-nim nodded at her words, while Kyunghoon shuddered at how mad Minzy would be if they fucked this us. “We’ll do our best,” he half-screamed at his phone’s mic.

“I know you will, Heechul-sshi,” she said, even though he was the one who fucking spoke. “I’m sure you’re going to have some really great costumes by Tuesday night!”

“Yes! Bye for now,”

“Bye!”

Finally, Minzy was gone, even though she wasn’t gone spiritually, bringing his own spirits down. He rubbed the back of his neck, with his skin a second away from chipping off from his own nape. God, he wanted to go inside already. If only DJ-nim would stop smiling at him.

Kyunghoon raised an eyebrow at the man, gesturing at the entrance. “Should I do the honors of going in then, hyung?” he asked, foot tapping at the frosted pavement.

“Pfft,” the other sounded, rolling his eyes. “I’m the older and better looking one, so of course I should go first. Make the security guards swoon before we make our heist.”

Kyunghoon nudged his shoulder hard when he strutted over to the automatic glass doors. “I’m sorry, but I have to remind your Highness that you’re wearing your mask again,” he informed while tapping on his own bare lips. “So no charms will work on anyone today, unless they have x-ray vision.”

“Fair point,” DJ hyung-nim replied, literally bouncing up and matching his pace. “But when you’re born with good looks, not even the best masks can cover that.”

“But a shitty personality can,” he rebutted, winking.

The sound of hyung’s gasp was muted by the warmth that flooded in him when they made their way past the automatic sliding doors. Lotte Mall was shining in front of his eyes, yellow lights bouncing off the white floors with multiple stores shining their own lights. Families filled the walkways, talking animatedly between themselves. It was festive enough within the mall, with a few faux spider-webs and other “scary” paraphernalia were littered around the premises. Sadly, they would be gone within a few days and easily replaced with the Christmas and other holiday décor.

Kyunghoon rubbed up and down his own arms, trying to get more of the warm blood circulating within him. When he looked to his right side, he just saw the man looking around already, as if he wasn’t just in negative degree weather. “Are you some kind of frost giant, hyung-nim?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Without even a glance, he just raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, Writer-nim?”

“I mean,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Are you immune to the cold? Or are you just that focused at costume shopping?”

“I’m guessing the latter, Writer-nim,” he answered, and just stalked forward, without even a look at him. Goddamn, wasn’t he a prick at times?

Kyunghoon ran forward, trying not to lose the man to the weekend crowd. Once he was an arm’s length away from the man, he pinched the material of his parka between his fingertip, tugging. As the force seemed to snap the man back to decency, he stopped, pivoting to look at Kyunghoon.

“What?” he asked, looking at Kyunghoon’s fingers on his outfit.

He sighed, looking unimpressed. “Well, shit, hyung-nim,” he said, exasperated. “I’m not going to ruin your outfit with just a pinch. It’s just so that I won’t lose you when you run off to wherever.”

DJ-nim just waved a hand in front of him, and continued to make his way to whichever store he thought best. Kyunghoon however didn’t go to this mall that much, so he was just left to admire and gawk at the different kinds of stores they passed by.

When Kyunghoon entered, there was a more random and diverse array of stores, both catering to the middle class and the upper middle class. Now, as they made their way to the farther eastern wing of the store, it seemed to be more…well, rich. He felt out of his depth.

Hyung-nim passed by stores like Dolce & Gabanna, YSL, and Gucci like they were nothing, yet he couldn’t help but feel a stab at the bottom of his stomach whenever he saw the luxury items that decorated their windows. The envy hung low on his heart, so he just looked forward, criticizing the longer curls in the other’s hair, and wondered how they were so unruly when he could afford even the most expensive hair stylist in the world at an everyday basis.

Though Kyunghoon wasn’t poor, nor was he as filthy rich as his hyung-nim was, a certain extravagant purchase could hurt his wallet. He wondered if the other felt that pain.

“DJ hyung-nim,” he called, furrowing his eyebrows. “Where are we going?”

The other man craned his neck towards Kyunghoon, and just winked. “I don’t know either, but I think there’s some good costume picks in this general area.”

“Do you even know who you’re going to be, hyung-nim?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Of course,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ll be Loki.”

Kyunghoon smirked to himself, rolling his eyes. “You say you’re going to be Loki, but you didn’t get my reference from earlier,” he noted. “Then, what does Loki wear, hyung-nim?”

“I don’t have to be that big of a Marvel fan to dress up as someone, Writer-nim,” DJ-nim replied, stopping a bit to survey the area they were in. “And I’m going with what he wore in their latest movie. You know that black suit?”

At the answer, Kyunghoon tried to visualize the man as the Loki he saw on-screen. He couldn’t. “Are you sure that really screams Loki?” he asked, since honestly the point of dressing up was first, to look better than you usually do, and secondly, to actually look like whoever your trying to be. “It might be a little…ambiguous?”

“Then, I’ll just try to find a green-ish fur coat, or add the helmet in,” he replied non-chalantly. Then, the man’s gaze was on him again. “How about you then, Writer-nim. Who do you want to be?”

He gulped, and he felt his lips dry. “I’m still thinking about it,” he admitted. “I don’t really look like anyone there, you know that.”

“They’re white and good-looking, but you’re not all that, of course I know,” the other replied deadpan, smirking. He pinched the man on his elbow.

“Ow! Writer-nim!” he yelped, immediately caressing the area in distress.

“Get off your high horse first, DJ-nim,” he chided, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll just be Iron Man then, since I look better than he does.”

Hyung-nim clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “Woohyun PD-nim already has Stark,” he informed, the frown on his face contrasted with the amusement he felt from the man. “He almost has the beard anyways, so that’s settled.”

Not feeling the least discouraged, he let his eyes wander, thinking of possible people to impersonate. “Well then, Hawkeye?”

The other just raised his eyebrows at him. “How come you’ve chosen the taken people?” he asked, and Kyunghoon moved in to slap his forearm. “Junyoung has Barton.”

“Uhmm…then Banner? Hulk?” he offered, scratching the back of his neck.

He saw the other’s eyes light up. “Oh, Writer-nim,” he started, eyebrows wiggling up and down. “Do you have as much muscle as the Hulk?”

He fake-gagged, but it was real in his heart. “I said Banner, hyung-nim, so I’ll be fully-clothed and the human version of him.”

Leaning back slightly, DJ-nim seemed to contemplate his decision, as if he really was going to be Kyunghoon’s stylist for the days to come. With how seriously he was looking him up and down, it felt like he was being judged from all angles, even x-rayed. He felt his ears go red.

“Well, it might work,” the other commented after a whole lifetime of being under his naked gaze. “Do you have any purple silk tops and slacks?”

Well damn, wasn’t he straight to business. “I have a lot of slacks, but I don’t have the top,” he answered. As if it was normal to have the former item mentioned in a middle-class employee’s closet. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

He felt a steady hand clap him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Writer-nim,” hyung-nim comforted him, rather unnecessarily. “You’re not going to be ugly under my guidance.”

At the comment, he started walking forward, once again bumping against the soft fabric that clothed the other’s shoulder. “As if I’d trust the guy who wears anime shirts when he comes in the studio,” he said, spitting the words out but with no real bite. “Comfort me once you change you fashion sense.”

As the other caught up with his pace, he heard the pained gasp that he exhaled. “Excuse me, Writer-nim, but who did you entrust to go with you to get your costume?”

He looked to the ceiling, fighting the smile that threatened to burst out of his face. “That was more out of curiosity than necessity, hyung-nim,” he answered, not looking at the man. “I also wanted to see how bad you’d fu–“

He was interrupted by the other man tugging on his arm sharply, causing him to stumble back. “Hey, hyung-nim, what’d you do d that for?” he asked, regaining his balance on two feet.

He saw the other man raise a finger towards an English store he couldn’t really read the name to, so they just made their way inside. The clerks greeted the two of them calmly, and started talking to DJ-nim. They threw around specialized terms in front of his face, and then Kyunghoon realized that DJ hyung-nim might really know his shit when it came to fashion. He preoccupied himself with looking around the store.

They seemed to specialize in male formal attire, with most of the interior showcasing wooden mannequins dressed in black suits with bowties, and the like. It had been a long time since Kyunghoon was greeted with such a sight. He wished he knew more about what he bought before rather than just enjoy the experience.

The clerk led them to a section of their store that displayed more of their coats, waistcoats, and the like. They continued to talk about the specifications of the coat that DJ-nim wanted,  then the clerk excused herself to look for whatever he had requested.

“So,” he started when they were left alone. “Is this for the fur coat?”

DJ-nim nodded, confirming his speculation. “I think I have some suits and undershirts at home that will work, probably,” he added, scanning the store for something else.

Kyunghoon tried to follow his line of sight, then landed on a nice purple long sleeved shirt. He cocked his head towards the general direction of the shirt, and DJ-nim nodded again. “I’m not getting that shirt, hyung-nim,” he said, guessing the question hidden in the other’s eyes. “That’s way above my writing fee.”

He then saw the other roll his eyes and loll his head from side to side. “Well, as if I was going to pay for it for you, but fine,” he said, sounding disappointed.

“I don’t have your disgustingly expensive tastes, DJ-nim,” he recoiled. “So just shove that sarcasm up your ass,” he retorted just as the attendant made her way up to them. He put on his most pleasant face.

“Sir,” the attendant came back in front of DJ-nim, a pleasant smile coloring her face. “Here’s a few examples  of the coats you might like.”

From her stance alone, he could see that she knew who DJ-nim was, even through the black mask and long bangs which covered his face. He could feel the soft feeling of admiration and yet the malicious desire to seduce him. It was weird how people immediately tried to fuck a person just because they’re famous. Hell, it was disgusting.

Regardless, DJ hyung-nim didn’t seem to notice this and scanned the rack which the clerk rolled in for him. Just like how he was while studying his script, he kept his eyes focused and his movements small. His brows were furrowed by a micrometer while he seemed to move his lips a little, yet make no sound. Honestly, DJ hyung-nim seemed more focused than anything today regarding their costumes.

After a few minutes of silence passed, DJ-nim straightened his back and pulled out a black coat with some fur lining and handed it to the clerk. Looking at all the choices now, they kind of looked alike in his eyes. “I’ll be taking this, thank you,” he said, bowing slightly towards the woman.

He could feel the swoon as she made her way to the counter, mingling with a coworker of hers. “Fine,” he said to the other man, who was a little surprised at his sudden comment. “Maybe your mask can’t cover good looks. She fell in love with you immediately.”

DJ-nim raised one of his eyebrows. “Wow, I never knew that treating someone with basic human decency meant that they love you, Writer-nim,” he commented, and turned his foot, to which Kyunghoon was tugged to involuntarily.

“I didn’t mean that, but go off, DJ hyung-nim,” he sighed out, defeated. Sometimes, it was frustrating when he knew things others didn’t. Especially when it was because of something he felt.

With a little too wide smile from the same clerk that served them, they made their way out of the store with one huge back dangling from hyung-nim’s fingers. “So, are we going to find my purple shirt?” he asked. He took a look at his watch (15:41), and just shoved it back down his pocket.

“Yeah, sure,” hyung-nim replied. “Are you sure you’ll be able to pull off a silk button-down? I’m thinking about it now, and I think I’m gonna barf,” he said while miming the action.  

Kyunghoon looked at the other incredulously. “You’d be surprised, hyung-nim,” he retorted, puffing his chest out. “I can pull off anything, just wait and see.”

With a smile, the other man rolled his eyes and made his way in front of him. “Yeah, sure, and I bet you’d pull of a trash can the best,”

He ran towards the man, slapping him once again on his back this time. The other fucker didn’t even flinch now. Anyways, he was busy scanning the stores again, and occasionally saying something regarding a certain store (mostly going along the lines of “I liked their leopard prints during that one season”, or “They secretly use real animal fibers so they’re cancelled from this day on, you hear me, Writer-nim?”).

Looking at DJ-nim now, he couldn’t think of the man who almost broke down last night. Hell, it was as if the man wasn’t going to make any deal of it, nor talk to Kyunghoon about it (as if he would care that much, but still it was Kyunghoon who tried to comfort him). It was as if what happened was forgotten or just lost in time.

The man in front of Kyunghoon now was back to the more casual state he saw the man in – not particularly caring about something at all or too much. Kyunghoon was back to be greeted with ease and they were back to their professionally friendly distance. This man in front of him wasn’t shaking his shoulders, nor frozen stiff at the thought of something. Aloof was the word for this Kim Heechul.

Kyunghoon wouldn’t pry, because God he knew that he too didn’t like being probed, but he wanted the other man to know that he remembers, and he respects the man regardless.

The next thing he knows four different violet silk tops are being thrust into his arms with a pre-occupied DJ-nim motioning for him to go inside the changing cubicle.

“Try these on, Writer-nim, I’ll be right here outside,” he ordered, looking at his phone. “Hurry up, this place is too cold.”

Kyunghoon sighs, but dutifully makes his way into one of the open fitting rooms. “As if you’re not wearing a parka, hyung-nim,” he remarks and shuts the door.

Damn, the room was bright, he noticed as he hung up his shirts-to-be. The mirror only illuminated the eggshell white walls even more. He didn’t know if this room wanted him to tan, be blinded, or actually look at himself while he would be fitting his tops. Either way, he removed his layers and put on the one nearest to him.

The sleeves were looser than the body, and it was kind of draping everywhere. There were also a few ribbons at the cuff, and honestly the silk felt good on his skin. Honestly, it was pretty, but fuck, it was tight on Kyunghoon. It was as if his lungs were going to burst beneath the lighter purple top, because hell, even his ribs were embossed on it.

Kyunghoon had his hand on the handle of the door, but as he looked down, his nipples also wanted to say hello. Why couldn’t they have gone to a warmer store? His next option was there for the taking.

He slipped in his hands on, and after buttoning it from the bottom to the top, he honestly didn’t look half as bad as he would usually do in the morning. The sleeves were also quite loose on this top, but they flattered his arms nicely enough. The body also wasn’t too tight, and it would work better if he tucked it in. Sadly, with his hair, he kind of looked like a cheap Prince. The shirt flattered his body though, and he wouldn’t mind adding it to his closet.

He went out of the cubicle, twirling around jokingly. As soon as he laid his eyes on hyung-nim, he called. “Hey, what does this look like?”

DJ-nim gave him a quick once-over before replying. “You look like you’re part of some kind of 2000s rock band, Min-sshi,” he remarked, and Kyunghoon tried his best not to shiver. Gladly, the other didn’t notice.

“Y-Yeah,” he replies quickly. “But honestly I look kind of good…maybe.”

With a small laugh, hyung-nim stands up and walks around Kyunghoon. For someone who wears the shittiest things in his closet, it does feel like he’s being scrutinized by a fashionista elite. “Yeah, it does, though. Next!”

“Are we on a modeling show now, DJ-nim?” he asked rhetorically before going back into the cubicle.

He mindlessly picks up the third option in and puts it on, and somehow it feels heavier than the other ones. It also came in a darker shade of violet. After buttoning the third to the last button of the shirt, it honestly stole Kyunghoon’s heart. It wasn’t as tight as the first one Kyunghoon tried, nor was it as flowy as the second one. It framed his body nicely, and accentuated his biceps and his hips more. Apparently, this fabric was also thicker and adorned with little diamonds at the shoulders, which wasn’t a bad addition.

What mattered most was the fact that it wasn’t that hot to wear, and most importantly, covered his nipples well enough.

He looked at his last option, and saw that, hey, fuck it he’d buy this one. He had to treat himself for once, and he’d be damned if he got one of the best looking items in his closet from DJ-nim. Removing the garment and putting on his (now scruffy looking) sweater and jacket off of the hooks.

He dashed towards the cashier before hyung-nim would notice. “I’d like to purchase this one, please,” he said sweetly, while his hands were furiously grappling for his wallet.

“Yes, sir,” the lady said, a little bit disinterestedly while she processed his transaction. “Would you like to process this as a downpayment?”

“No thank you,” he replied, still fumbling for his debit card. Thank God for his usually frugal habits.

The lady didn’t seem to process his answer as fast as he did though. “Are you sure, sir?” she tried again, voice betraying her feelings. She was judging him right off the bat, both concern and pity seeping through her words. He held her eyes.

“I’d like to make a one-time purchase, so please enter the amount and use that card, ma’am,” he said stoically, pushing his card towards her. He didn’t even falter, but her eyes did.

“Y-Yes, sir,” she answered automatically. “Your amount is tw-two million, three hundred thousand, -“

“Please just complete the transaction, ma’am,”

“Okay,” she replied immediately, fingers flying fast over the computer screen.

After a few seconds of Kyunghoon drilling holes at the back of her head, she soon turned around and handed him both his debit card and his shirt with the receipt. “Have a nice day, sir,” she said, voice still quaking for a degree.

He walked out of the store, looking out for hyung-nim. Apparently, he was there outside, waiting patiently with a slight pout on his face.

“You didn’t even show me how the thing you got looked on you, Writer-nim,” he informed, emphasizing the faux sadness in his voice. “As your personal stylist, that hurt.”

He rolled his eyes, lifting up the bag a bit and dangling it from side to side. “Guess you’ll just have to see it on the day itself,” he said teasingly. “Thank you for accompanying me though, regardless.”

As he was just about to walk, the other whipped his head around to look at Kyunghoon. “Is that genuine gratitude I hear from that mouth?”

“Keep on walking along, dickhead,”

#

“Min Kyunghoon,” his mother whispered death into his ear through the speaker. “What exactly did you buy that cost us two million won?”

Kyunghoon gulped. “Dad and I can earn that money back in no time –“

“Not the time to brag!”

“I just need it for work,” he reasons, palm of his hand massaging his nape. “I swear, Mom, we’re going to be okay financially this isn’t the end of the wor–“

The call ended. He wondered if DJ-nim had to experience that when he bought his luxury items.

#

“I know that the party’s going to be set at like…Wednesday, now, apparently,” Woohyun said, slurring as he came in the room. “But I swear to God, if no one’s here at like five in the afternoon due to some massive hangover, all of you are going to die by my hands.”

Kyunghoon stretched his hands over his head, scoffing. “Put some faith in us, hyung,” he said. “Next thing you know, you’re the one waking up at like six in the evening and running towards the recording room.”

Woohyun hyung glared daggers at him, gesturing the same message. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Pretend or not, PD-nim, I’m betting the same thing as he is,” Minzy agreed with a nod. Ugh, he raised her well. They fist-bumped with a voosh. Woohyun just rolled his eyes.

After hyung set up his laptop at the twelve o’clock angle of their circular table, he gave Kyunghoon another look. He just raised his eyebrow in question. After that, Woohyun hyung just pointed at his laptop screen with his lips, and then Kyunghoon understood.

aa saddest hyung sent you a message in Kakao Talk

(10:40) I heard you went out with Heechul

(10:42) wht about it?

(10:42) He didn’t pull anything funny?

(10:42) Or did you pull something funny?

(10:43) can’t the gossip be reserved for later hyung?

(10:43) did minzy tell you about this?

(10:44) She did, but I also saw something from another source.

(10:44) wdym “other source”

(10:45) aa saddest hyung sent a link.

Once Kyunghoon opened the link, he sucked in a breath. It was a picture of the two of them in Lotte Mall, and the caption read: “Kim Heechul and male friend have a bromantic date”. He wanted to choke. The grammar, wording, and phrasing was one thing, but the fact that other people saw and paid attention to the two of them together made it a little bit worse.

One thing he hated about the life that he had lived was the fact that the least bit of privacy and solitude when walking outside was never kept to himself. He loved his fans, but he hated the pictures he saw online. He hated how some people had documented his life from start to finish. He hated how he would read about what he had eaten for lunch, or what route he took on his way to their training room.

He was being sucked back in there again, and he could already feel their hands slowly wrapping around his neck.

Maybe the other man didn’t mind it as much. Maybe he was the one who hired people to leak his photos.

The chill of anger and anxiety flowed through his veins, and he was frozen like that for a moment. All he could think about was how paralyzing and damning it all was.

aa saddest hyung sent a message in Kakao Talk

(10:51) Your face was blurred if that’s any consolation.

(10:51) It’s okay, it’s all right.

(10:55) Do you want to go out for a bit?

Kyunghoon was already on his feet and walking out of the door. He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, especially since his vision was clouding in blues and reds, but he just knew that he stopped at the foot of their biggest tree. The ringing in his ears was loud, and he felt as if his had was going to split in two.

He closed the zipper of his jacket and pulled the hood up on his head, just in case there was anyone near who might’ve seen. There were the phantom shutter sounds surrounding him, and he also felt eyes burning holes at the back of his neck. God, could they just go away.

At the touch of someone’s hand at the small of his back, he fidgeted away, almost screaming until he saw that it was hyung. After a deep breath and a slight nod, he allowed him to put his arm around his waist, melting into the hug.

“No one’s around us, Kyunghoon-ah,” he said, rubbing small shaped into his back. “Besides, no one wants a picture of my face on their Weibo accounts, probably.”

He could have laughed, but then it would sound more like a cough. He just shook his head and channelled his energy to feeling Woohyun hyung by his side. Even though he sweat was dripping at his back, probably dampening the back of his cotton jacket, hyung didn’t seem to care.

“Fuck,” he said after a few moments. His voice had grown back faster today, and he saw that as progress, but he didn’t know why. “I really want to fucking forget about it.”

Woohyun hyung rolls his eyes again, but he can only feel sympathy rather than judgement from the other man. “Then you’ll say you want back in when you’re pissed on Wednesday night,” he responded knowingly.

“Shut up, hyung, no I won’t,” he retorted, slowly crossing his arms around his chest. “I need some water,” he said, and then hyung was already on his way there.

He gingerly made his way to the nearest bench, the shade of the tree covering it nicely. The cold wind just made him even colder today, and it wasn’t a nice experience to top it off all together.

There really weren’t that many people around him today, despite it being roughly a lunch time for some people in the building. The greens of the trees and plants complemented the blue of the windows well, and the occasional red of the rose. It was a great place to stop by and calm down. Sadly, someone had ruined a place like this before.  He didn’t want to try and tempt fate this time.

Solitude was a hard thing to come by some days, and he admired the people who were able to find their own spot amidst the very much populated Korean lands. He wanted to find his own place to breathe again. He wanted to feel the darkness wrap around him like a warm blanket, or the sunlight illuminating him like a generous spotlight.

That place was not as his home, for it was for his family. It wasn’t at work, since it was for him to cooperate and integrate. It wasn’t in the busy cafes or parks in the city. It was somewhere far off that Kyunghoon would probably never find in his lifetime – where all eyes were far off from himself and where his breathing would be the only comfort he had.

“Do you want to have lunch yet, Kyunghoon-ah?” Woohyun hyung asked from a distance, which made him crane his neck towards him. A resounding pop came afterwords.

His appetite was elsewhere, and honestly, Mondays didn’t agree with his stomach as well. “We literally left Minzy alone, hyung, now you’re asking us to leave her alone some more?” he also reminded, already making his way towards their room.

He felt a hand wrap itself around his wrist, and he stopped walking. “Kyunghoon-ah, let’s just get something to eat already,” he said, desperation apparent in his voice. “I’m getting the feeling that you’d just stare off angrily into the white walls when we get back.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, shutting his eyes thoroughly. “Minzy –“

“She will understand,” he finishes Kyunghoon’s sentence, and all the fight in his system leaks out from beneath his feet. “She knows when you’re upset, and she’ll be fine. She’s probably blasting some idol music around the room by now.”

At Woohyun-hyung’s words, a small wave of warmth thaws his cold veins, and he wordlessly turns towards his hyung and smothers his face between the crook of his neck and shoulder. He breathes in the scent of last night’s batch of alcohol, and sandalwood that came off some cheap cologne. He smelled the same all these years, and no matter how he preferred Seonghee-hyung’s scent, it was famliar – grounding.

Two arms wrapped around his middle, and he didn’t want to lose that feeling again.

#

Unknown User invited you to chat!

(Tuesday, October 31)

(01:34) psst! writer-nim!

(1:34) i h oppe tis is u i gt ur number frm minnnnzzie

(1:35) remmmerb to brng ur c os thme tmrrw or she’ll kik ur Asss

(1:39) surprisingly u might be asleep but lyk I’MMM wasted but see UUU at 4-ishhh?

#

Kyunghoon stared incredulously at his phone. Firstly, he was going to kill Minzy for giving his number to anyone while they were intoxicated. Secondly, he was going to stab himself because he didn’t know how to respond.

As far as office courtesy went, sending drunk texts was nowhere within the said rules and regulations. Hell, he had wished sending texts wasn’t even within the scope of their professional relationship. Well, at least the man had the mind to send him something (remotely) related to work, so he just tried typing something up.

kim dj-nim

(Tuesday, October 31)

(9:31) Good Morning, DJ-nim. Do not worry for I will not forget what to bring.

(9:35) Noted. See you later.

(9:43) yea hyung! i’m on it HAHAHAHAHHA

(9:49) why the fuck did you text me DRUNK dumbass

(9:51) i’ll bring it later, DJ hyung-nim, don’t worry

(9:55) and good luck with the hangover!

Setting his phone down, Kyunghoon didn’t know why, but he sure as hell wanted to die.

#

kim dj-nim sent a message in Kakao Talk

(10:16) :D

#

He and Woohyun-hyung were the only ones in the office by eleven o’clock, and he knew that his hyung was starting to get mad.

“At least I told you that I wasn’t the one getting wasted before the party,” he said, clearing his throat. Honestly, the two people who know shit about dress-ups were the ones missing in action. He didn’t know what to think about it.

The steady beat of his hyung tapping the wooden table was the only reply that he was going to get from this afternoon, he supposed, so he opted to continue their Friday script for the time being. He didn’t know why, but these days, getting into the mood was harder for him. He could barely imagine anything, much less something unique, that would make their new episodes actually new for their listeners. It was unsettling, honestly, and if it weren’t for DJ hyung-nim’s enormous ego (and fanbase), he didn’t know why they were even sticking.

At the sound of their office door blasting open, maybe the answer came easy.

“We’re so sorry for being late, we didn’t know what happened, I even set up my alarms and everything, they were set on full volume – “

“Woohyun PD-nim, this will never happen again, I’m so sorry, don’t let this one incident ruin my reputation in front of you, don’t start looking for other DJs just yet – “

“Kneel.”

At the sound of Woohyun-hyung’s level voice, the two stopped finishing each other’s pleas and just looked him straight in the eye. Even Kyunghoon would’ve shit his pants if it were him being sermoned. Thankfully, God is just, and he was just a bystander.

DJ hyung-nim seemed to fish for words as his mouth was also flapping like one. “P-pardon?” he said in English, and it took almost everything in his power to hold in his laugh.

After a few seconds of a calculating and tense silence, Minzy already stooped down to her knees. She knew the drill already, having broken a lot of the unspoken office rules imposed by his hyung. Her eyes were on the ground, and she was as stiff as a corpse. It was fitting.

He saw DJ-nim’s eyes widening at the sight of Minzy actually following their PD-nim’s words, and he reluctantly open his mouth. Before the words could even escape his mouth, a small snap resounded in the air. Where Kyunghoon was expecting a spectacular MMA beating for the both of them by yours truly, Woohyun-hyung just flicked Minzy in the forehead.

Well, ‘tis the season.

Regardless, Kyunghoon frowned. “Hyung, but she broke a rule,” he whined, closing his laptop with a. document left untouched.

“Honestly, Kyunghoon-ah, she’s going to beat the both of us later, so I don’t want to get beaten worse that I could,” he sighed, turning away from Minzy who passed out on the floor after the finger-flick.

DJ-nim on the other hand still stood stiffly at the corner of the room, the gears in his head visibly turning. Kyunghoon cleared his throat, then the man’s empty gaze fell on his own. He cocked his head to where the man usually sat, and the other followed in suit.

“Hyung’s scary sometimes, but he never hits anyone by his own hands because of that,”he whispers under his breath, head turned towards the other’s ear.

Since his voice wasn’t really trying to be soft, Woohyun-hyung rolled his eyes at his words. “I hit them with this,” he supplied, thick clearbook raised high. “These are the worst scripts ever written by Kyunghoon all throughout his career, and then some.”

“Yeah,” he affirms, cringing as he remembers being hit with it a few times (those were from the days he started writing, as well as the scripts that were purposefully trash for the first few days when Jooyoung was the DJ). “It gives it a little extra pain when it hits your scalp.”

Woohyun-hyung waves his hand in the air, dismissing the topic. His eyes are already trained towards his laptop, which was left unnoticed for the whole duration of time it was open. “Anyways, Kim Heechul-sshi, what was the occasion?”

He saw DJ-nim’s eyebrows twitch. “Occasion?” Kyunghoon could now feel the few threads of panic that still clung towards his skin. He laid a hand on the other’s, which was clenched. He tried to make it warm.

“Yeah?” Woohyun-hyung said as if it were the most obvious question in the world. “’Cause why the fuck else would you be drinking on a Tuesday night?”

DJ-nim’s pulse quickened at the end of hyung’s question, and he was subconsciously telling the other to calm down, just breathe. After all the times he’s done it for himself, it was nice to feel that he could do this for someone else as well. As an after-thought, he also sent a look to Woohyun-hyung to cut it out. Hyung in turn shrugged, but the last recesses of annoyance had already left his posture.

Kyunghoon started to rub circles on the back of his hand, and he could feel him loosening up already.

“Minzy felt like she could use a drink, so yeah,” he very eloquently and charmingly put it. He was actually surprised that the man answered the question rather than evading it. “And are we really just leaving her passed out on the floor?”

He hummed, nodding slightly. “It’s like the third time this year that she’s done that,” he informed. “Nothing’s new.”

“Damn,” he said, some humour leaking through his tone. “And I thought my members were mean.”

“Each family has their own weird dynamics, I guess,” Woohyun-hyung said non-chalantly, but stood up to get some of the spare cushions they had from other broken chairs, and used them to support her head. Why did Minzy even want to get so wasted these days?

“I guess,” DJ-nim mirrored back, and patted Kyunghoon’s hand on his before standing up and exiting the room, breaking their contact. Well, the other man was fine already, so it wasn’t (shouldn’t, actually) be a problem for him.

When the man came back, he was holding two hangers in his hands. One was smaller than the other, covered in a black cloth, while the other was a royal blue and shimmering (literally) gold cape that was protected inside of plastic. Well, it’s nice to know that someone didn’t spare any expenses when it came to the costume (Kyunghoon bought one thing – not a whole fucking set). Even Woohyun-hyung’s mouth was on the floor.

“Well, what do you guys think? Writer-nim? PD-nim?” he asked innocently, but his smirk said otherwise.

“You do know this is a one-night thing right?” Woohyun-hyung asked, voice trembling.

DJ hyung-nim rolled his eyes playfully, and hung his costume on one of the wires of their metal shelf. “You can never over-dress for a costume party,” he informs, taking his phone out of his pocket. “And since there will be a limited amount of publicity, I’ll be using the same costume for another Hallowe’en party.”

Kyunghoon raised an eyebrow. “So this is your test run, DJ-nim?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he said, flashing a small smile towards him. Honestly, being a cheapskate like Kyunghoon, he was also planning to do the same. Great minds think alike.

Once Woohyun-hyung was done staring at the (obnoxious) gold cape, he looked towards the two of them. “Kyunghoon-ah,” he started, incredulous. “You didn’t even try to stop him from buying that?”

“I wasn’t there when he got it!” he said, raising his hands up. “And as if I can say anything to stop him.”

“When you’re the Star of the Universe, there’s hardly anything anyone else can do to stop you,” he boasted, voice going low, as if he were saying something magnificent. Kyunghoon just pointed his thumb towards the man to put a period to his point.

His hyung just shook his head, messing his hair in between his fingers. “Anyways, we’ll need to wake Minzy up by two o’clock. She’s in charge of most of my make-up, which needs a lot of time.”

“Yeah, hyung,” he affirms, shaking his head seriously. “That ugly face of yours needs a decade before it gets any better.”

He barely dodges the tissue box that flies beside his head before it hits the ground with a loud noise. “Don’t test me now, Min Kyunghoon,” he warns, but Kyunghoon just sticks his tongue out.

“Oh yeah! Writer-nim,” DJ-nim calls, which bring both of their gazes towards him. “I’ll do your Banner make-up. Minzy and I talked about it last night.”

Both of his eyebrows shot up at the thought. “Uhm, what?” he asked, voice small in his throat.

However, at the words, Woohyun-hyung was this close to howling his throat out, which made him snort a fuckton.

“We didn’t want you looking too plain for tonight, since we both knew that we’d be shining you out of the spotlight,” he informed coolly, eyes not even taking themselves off of his phone. He could just feel his ears turning red at the thought of him with any sort of cosmetic product on.

He cleared his throat, hands massaging his temples. “I know that you think I’m some ugly duckling, but I think my looks can get me somewhere,” he informs, trying not to sound like he was dying from the inside.

DJ-nim put a finger on his chin, seemingly contemplating on his decision. “Nope!” he said happily, continuing to type on his phone.

Kyunghoon was now that close to slapping him. Sadly, as it was a tit for a tat, he didn’t want to be possibly slapped back. Instead of doing it in real life, he just imagined stabbing the other with multiple make-up brushes that he hated when he was younger. It gave him some semblance of satisfaction that reality would never give him.

“Kyunghoon-ah, before you kill our DJ,” Woohyun-hyung called, face red from containing his laughter. “Why don’t you continue writing your script for him, eh?”

And with enough strength to tear his laptop apart, he got back to work.

#

“How could we all just sleep on the job?!” Minzy screamed, frantically looking around the office for God knew what. “Did no one set any alarms?”

“Stop shouting!” Woohyun-hyun shouted back, pounding his ears as if there was water in them. “It’s just four, it’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

“We have two hours to get ready!” Minzy pointed out, staring into Woohyun-hyung’s eyes. “My make-up alone takes an hour to prepare!”

Woohyun-hyung finally stood up and made his way out of the room, still speaking. “Then why did you choose someone green?!” he asked, then left.

Kyunghoon was still feigning sleep, just to save himself from Minzy’s wrath. He could hear her berating everything and anything under her breath before she supposedly found what she was looking for. After a few noises of loud stomping, he heard the door open once again, then left the room in the same fashion.

After a few moments of nice silence, a tap on his shoulder jumped him a bit. “I know you’re not sleeping, Writer-nim,” DJ-nim’s voice drawled him back to full reality. “Stand up, we have work to do on your ugly mug.”

His eyes then shot open, and he saw the man looking at him, mirroring his crouched position. His head was also pillowed on his forearms, and he wondered if the man really slept like that. He didn’t even know how he slept in the first place.

“Fuck off,” he greeted, and dutifully stood up as he was told. Stretching, he felt his spine pop a bit, and he knew that there was nothing better than that. Sadly, a hand poked his side and it was gone instantly. “DJ-nim!”

Before he could even poke him back, the man was already making his way out of the door, his two hangers draped upon his shoulder. With a roll of his eyes, he followed a few steps late with his own hanger.

“Where should we change?” he asked, voice echoing down the hall. Almost no one went to work today. Even though it wasn’t really a holiday for them, most of the office just booked their vacation leaves during this time of the year. Aside from that, four was also the usually time to pre-record shows, and maybe there were also some teams who were excited for their first official party.

He heard the faint hum of the other’s voice through the hallway, then they took a sharp right. “I was thinking that we go to one of the higher levels?” he suggested. “The bathrooms there are usually cleaner than most.”

“But aren’t those for the higher departments?” Kyunghoon pointed out, although he was officially not that opposed to the idea. He even took a shit there sometimes.

Dramatically whipping his head to look back at Kyunghoon, he clicked his tongue. “I think you’re forgetting the benefits of working with the Kim Heechul,” he pointed out.

“Sometimes, I think I’m just working for him,” he said, but not denying the statement.

“Not false,” he said, stopping at the foot of the elevator then pressing the “up” button. A ting came almost immediately, and Kyunghoon had to think there was just some powers in the universe that either worked for the man, or were controlled by him.

They smoothly stepped into the elevators to the left, the ones Kyunghoon never rode before. They were left for the main directors, people of the board, and the other, more pompous people who thought themselves above others. God damn, he really didn’t understand the concept of a separate elevator. DJ-nim swiped a card (he had a card?), and picked level 29. Must’ve been on a whim.

Kyunghoon nudged his head towards the hand pocketing the card in the wallet. “How did you get that?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Hm…why?” he asked instead, eyes teasing. “Want one for yourself?”

He rolled his eyes instead in response, and clicked his tongue. The other man chuckled to himself.

“Fine, I kind of nicked it off the wallet of one of my friends who works here,” he confessed, pressing the wallet into his pocket. “Bet he wouldn’t notice it until the next week. D’you know who Seo Janghoon is? He’s known for being a little bit oblivious when it matters.”

“And here I was thinking that you might’ve literally fucked your way up to the top,” Kyunghoon deadpanned, but the slight lift in the right corner of his lip betrayed his insulting nature.

To that, DJ-nim burst out laughing. “You’re not entirely wrong there.”

Kyunghoon didn’t pay any mind to the other’s answer as he saw the elevator’s doors open onto the outdoor foyer of the building. A shiver went down his spine as he saw the grey, concrete grounds, the wooden benches, and the potted plants littered around the venue. They hit too close to home.

He was back there again.

“Hey, Writer-nim, was it something I said?” he heard DJ hyung-nim call, and that softness in his voice brought Kyunghoon back a bit.

A hand (-pocketed in those tattered jeans, much like his own, adorned with jewelry and other things-) tried to reach out to him, but he flinched before they could make contact. Instead of looking at those eyes (-those who promised murder, those who looked at him like he was scum-), Kyunghoon looked out onto the city line around them, covered in dust.

“Writer-nim,” said the man. There he was again.

- hands were pushing him down onto the hard floor, and he could smell the stench of cigarettes on them. There was that firery orange hair again, and there were the eyes who were lit with more than a little flame. His tongue cut through Kyunghoon, and he couldn’t feel the sting of the abrasions on his palms.

“I’m Kim Heechul,” the devil said to him then. “And you’re nothing aside from the voices from your head.”

One punch, and he could feel his cheek bruising – the anger that came from the punch resonating throughout his body.

Another punch, and he could feel his gums bleeding – the jealously and envy clashing together, making the color of his veins greener than ever.

Then the fingers were pulling on his hair, making sure he wasn’t able to see anything other than the darkness of his eyes. “I will always be better than you, Min Kyunghoon, and –“

Those hands (-stained with both their blood-) tried to reach out to him again, and Kyunghoon could almost feel some warmth from them, but he went numb from what happened then.

He made a beeline straight for the bathrooms, and there, he tried to settle his heartbeat. He closed the cubicle door again, and it was just like what happened to him, time and time again. He tried to reach back to Seonghee-hyung, clutching his hands from below the door. He tried to reach back to Woohyun-hyung’s hug, encasing him with warmth and care and protection. He came back home in his mind, to his mother’s warm food, his father’s warm laugh, and Soonshim’s warm fur.

He was cold. He was shivering. He was in the ninth circle of hell just looking back at it.

Kyunghoon tried to ground himself, feeling his nerves losing themselves from within him. There was too much input, too much output.

He started tapping his fingers in a steady rhythm, but that only reminded him of those bony fingers, taping on a cigarette stick. He tried to focus on his breathing, but could only remember the feeling of hands around his neck, making it hard to do so. He tried to listen to the world around him, but –

Kyunghoon started to listen. There was a slow hum of a song that Kyunghoon knew from long before. It was a Panic song, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it seemed to do the job. The lyrics seemed to come to him naturally, expressing longing and loneliness, but most importantly, comfort and hope. Kyunghoon tried to ground himself towards that. To that image of coming home, of crossing oceans, and of finding someone who is like home.

Soon, Kyunghoon’s breath slowed down to one that was normal, and he could feel the sweat clinging to every clothed inch of his body. He felt disgusting inside and out, and wasn’t that just a way to start Hallowe’en?

“Writer-nim?” he heard DJ hyung-nim call from outside the cubicle, and now, he could also feel the warmth radiating throughout his back. He felt worry and concern, but he also felt some remorse. He couldn’t bother to know why now.

Kyunghoon heaved in a big breath, before he responded with a faint yes, and he was damned if he cared about him knowing about what he just went through at the moment, because it was as if the other man had forgotten that it was him to put him in the cubicle anyway.

“I’m alright now, DJ-nim,” he breathed out, grasping around him for the hanger that lay beside him, possibly crumpled more than he would like. “I’ll just change.”

He barely acknowledged the response of the other man as he just focused on closing the toilet seat and hanging his clothes on the plastic door hook that hung above him. He put his head in his hands, trying to push off the rest of the nerves that were still rushing through him, he tried to grapple for any good feelings within the cubicle, but they were all just filled with passion and lust, which just screamed unknown office sex. Therefore, he just mustered up all the disgust in his system and stood up.

He dabbed away all of the sweat that was in his body with his hankerchief, as well as his used shirt, making sure that he wouldn’t look like he ran a marathon when he walked out of the bathroom. Not to mention the fact that the silk he was going to wear came from his own money, and he wasn’t going to soil that.

He put on the silk shirt, and fuck, didn’t it feel good to wear your own satisfaction. He felt the accomplishment embellished within the threads, and that was enough to put some balance in his stature. He then put on his trousers from long ago, for one of their more formal gatherings as a band before. It was a little tighter than he expected, but it worked when he tried it out in the mirror at home.

He put on a suit jacket, just in case he seemed a bit plain (especially since Minzy was going to talk his ear off for it), and was out of the cubicle.

“DJ hyung-nim,” he called out to the two stalls. “Are you done?”

He heard two knocks on the door, and (though he would never ever say it out loud) there was Loki.

The other man was dressed in an all-black, three piece suit, and he couldn’t deny its resemblance to the actor’s outfit in the third movie of Thor. DJ-nim already had the greasy black hair checked, and he was also holding his helmet and fur cape lazily with one hand. Fuck, that was intimidating. His heart seemed to think the same, skipping a beat.

“I expected worse,” Kyunghoon confessed, clearing his throat. “But I see that with my advice, you do look more like Loki.”

The other huffed and smirked. “Well, you’d never look more like Banner if it weren’t for my assistance with your outfit choices.”

He just rolled his eyes again and made his way towards the exit, playfully nudging the other’s shoulder as he crossed the narrow doorway. They silently matched each other’s footsteps as they made their way into the elevator, out of it, through the corridor, and back into their empty workroom. Not a word was said between the two of them, and he couldn’t feel any curiosity or discomfort from the other. He just sat down, and heaved a sigh.

“That was a long walk,” he said, breaking the silence. “I suspect that Minzy and Woohyun-hyung are still busy with their make-up. Are you starting on yours?”

The other man peeked up from beneath his lashes, hands rummaging through his bag. “Do you honestly think that this face needs any make-up?” he deadpanned.

“Tom Hiddleston’s looks are universes away from yours, DJ hyung-nim,” he responded. He tried to make out his reflection from the full windows of their office room, and he could see that he didn’t look too bad today. But he was seated.

Soft footsteps made their way towards him, and he looked up towards the other’s face. “I’m going to be doing your make-up, so I just want to ask if I can touch your face,” he started, voice small and eyes sincere. “Is it okay now?”

His heart was calm, and his breathing steady. He looked towards the other’s eyes, deeper than he did before, but not too deep. He could feel the genuine waves of concern still laced in his gaze, and he could feel the anxiety that ate him beneath his eyes. With one of his hands, he took the other’s hand in his own, and guided it to his cheek. The touch was soft, and Kyunghoon knew that he would be safe.

The other man then spared no word and just sat down beside Kyunghoon, facing him. “You know how the Hulk looks like, so I bet you know the image I’m going to project on you, right?” he asked.

Kyunghoon almost rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he answered, exasperated. “You’re going to color me like Shrek, but in a more acceptable shade of green.”

DJ-nim snorted lightly. “You get the idea, but since I am who I am,” he started, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Prepare to be surprised.”

“I’m shaking with it,” he deadpanned, but in reality, he really was.

Kyunghoon stayed silent throughout most of the first minutes of his personal make-up session, carefully examining all of the products and brushes that the other man was using on his face. They weren’t as extravagant or used as the ones that he grew to know and hate. They were simpler, apparently for beginners or casual use. The products used, like primer (honestly, who would use any other product aside from face paint for this kind of job?), were cheaper as well. Though they looked relatively new and unused, there were some bottles or containers that just had about half of the product left within them, and there were a few loose hairs on the brushes here and there.

“Do you usually do your own make-up, DJ-nim?” he asked, innocently.

The other man hummed before responding. “Are you going to ridicule me for it?”

“Don’t I always?” he jokingly answers, but returns to seriousness. “But if you really like what you do, then why would I dare?”

The other man seemed to soften as he answered, the tension escaping from his shoulders. “Not always, but there are some times when my team doesn’t really do me right on-screen.”

“It’s good that you developed a skill for yourself, DJ-nim,” he said sincerely. “Thank God you also know how to fix my face, since I would rather not be beat to death by one of Minzy’s beauty puffs, or whatever you call it.”

The other snorted at the thought, and was also beating Kyunghoon’s cheek lightly with a product stained with green face paint. “Well, it’s just a testament to my never-ending charms.”

“You wish, but thank you,” he adds.

“No problem,” DJ-nim responds automatically, and sticks his tongue out in concentration as he tried to evenly spread the product on his face.

A few beats of silence pass before Kyunghoon breaches the topic. “Just so you know,” he starts, hands going clammy in his lap. “That’s also a thank you for calming me down a while ago. I-I didn’t…Rooftops...I just – “

The other man put a brush against his lips, and he shut up. He could feel a sting in his eyes, and he used all of the power within himself to stop them from falling. His make-up would run. He looked up to the white ceiling.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Writer-nim,” he explained, stroking the green product on half of his two lips. “After all, you didn’t ask any further questions when you did that to me. Unless you want to?”

“I don’t.”

As the DJ continued his business, then Kyunghoon really realized they were there – a tit for a tat.