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Jun knew he was intimidating. He knew that there was a sort of expectation that came with the tattoos winding up and down his arms and creeping up his chest. He knew that people shied their children away from him whenever he walked down the street, cigarette in his mouth, unlit.
Even with all his armour to keep people away, Jaewon refused to leave him alone. Jun accepted it— how could he not— and let Jaewon into his little world. Sure, it had been a long while since he’d thought of his life before Jaewon bounced in, but the words flowed out of him like tap water.
Even Jaewon had managed to run him dry and leave. Jaewon, who Jun could’ve never thought was capable of hurting a soul, had hurt him.
Jun kicked a stone as he walked down the street bend. Jaewon had been three years ago. His father didn’t come by as often— maybe once a month for dinner. He sent Jun money regularly, though. Enough to keep him comfortable. Jun had quit his job with Nari after everything. Jaewon was far too likely to come round the coffee shop and Jun couldn’t face him. Not now, not then, not ever.
MAYHEM had broken a new record and was currently in the running against SA1NT for some award. Jun had voted for SA1NT, then hesitated, changed his vote to MAYHEM, and then changed it back. It was all still confusing. He and Jaewon were fine. They were okay. It was just Jun who distanced himself— but for all intents and purposes, Jaewon doesn’t know why he was cut off.
With his head bent down, he walked into a stranger. Muttering an apology, Jun looked up to see cotton-candy hair and a rather startled-looking Minsung. A less stifled yelp slipped out before Jun could stop himself.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
Minsung’s voice was tight in a way that Jun could understand and sympathize with, but he didn’t want to. He was done with bending over for other people.
“What’s a singer like you doing out here?” Jun raised an eyebrow, then looked Minsung up and down. “You’re a bit of a walking target for robbers and fangirls like this.”
Minsung flinched like Jun had physically assaulted him before looking quite miffed. “I’ll be fine.” He eyed the cigarette in between Jun’s lips. “You smoke?”
“Yeah. Don’t you?” Jun drawled a bit, trying to appear a bit tougher and more capable than he felt. They were both clearly not alright, but the loser was the one who showed it more.
“Minsoo made me quit. But I’m thinking about picking it up again.” Minsung matched his drawl, eyes scanning the area around them and looking anywhere but at Jun.
Jun threw a lighter and the box at him. “Might as well start again today.”
“You’re trying to kill me with cancer.”
“Yup.”
“Normally people would try and talk me out of this. It’s a nasty habit, they’d say.”
“You want me to coddle you, princess?”
“No.”
“Then stop speaking like you want me to.”
“You’re the kid from the coffee shop. You know MAYHEM and stuff. Jaewon’s always talking about you.”
“Yeah.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Why not?”
The two men walked, side by side. Jun had his shoulders hunched inwards while Minsung stood rather tall. Irksome. A plume of smoke followed them from their cigarettes and Jun let himself breathe. He inhaled the smoke, the stale Seoul air, the bleached scent of fabric softener, and the distinct smell of home. Unconventional home, but home all the same.
The convince store was cleaning out the less than stellar food from its shelves when they got there. Minsung— even though he was technically on a diet— emptied his pockets for day-old sandwiches, two coffees, and four bottles of soju. Jun bought two instant noodles. He was still getting used to having money to spare and decided the sense of security was nice if foreign.
Minsung cracked the first bottle open and handed it to Jun. Jun obliged, pouring out two shots and handing one back to Minsung. They took them, and then took a second, and a third. Minsung paused to rip open one of the sandwich containers. It was egg— Jun wasn’t particularly fond of it, but Minsung dug in.
“So.” Jun drawled, relaxed. “What’s a guy like you doing 'round a place like this?”
“Thinking,” Minsung replied. “After Minsoo and I made up, I suddenly fell into the role of his older brother and I needed a break from it all. You?”
“Hiding.” Jun stirred his noodles absently. “From Wyld.”
There was no purpose in hiding the fact as to why he was hiding or who he was hiding from. The name “Wyld” tasted sour in his mouth. It was better than saying Jaewon though.
“Sure. I mean— I know the kid’s not really what the media makes him seem like, but it’s still a bit weird to think that it’s the same person.”
“The media?” Jun feigned surprise. He’d seen the photos. The ones that were so uncharacteristic of Jaewon— the ones where he always looked a touch uncomfortable.
“Yeah. All the womanizer stuff. But it’s not him.” Minsung eyed Jun pointedly. “You know that, right?”
Jun nodded, wordlessly. He was staring beyond Minsung, beyond the streetlights, beyond Korea, even. He was staring and wishing he could talk to Jaewon about what his father had told him. The two sat in silence, the only sound coming from the slurping of noodles. Minsung’s sandwiches were long since finished.
“My contract is almost over,” Minsung spoke into the silence, but cause this was a weird in-between time where they could talk about their concerns and worries without feeling apprehensive. They were still strangers, after all.
“You going to renew it?”
“Yeah. Don’t have anything else to do, really. I mean, I could probably go solo and crazy— my fans love everything I do. I wouldn’t use them like that, though.”
“Sure. I’m sure you've made into hundreds of YouTube video compilations and that the world loves you.”
“They do,” Minsung said simply, almost angrily. Whatever emotion was wrapped up in the way he said it, Jun couldn’t detect a hint of pride.
“You seem like you need something to let off whatever steam you’re carrying inside you. Or another drink.” He tips the bottle into Minsung’s cup, then the rest into his mouth.
Minsung’s eyes glinted with amusement and he took the shot, eyeing Jun. “What are you doing, nowadays?”
“Don’t. Don’t shift the conversation on me and do your fancy little deflection skill.”
“There’s nothing for me to answer you about.”
“What steam are you carrying?”
“Reconnecting is hard cause suddenly all your caring means something.” Minsung ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching on some of the stiffly gelled tips. “Your turn.”
“I thought Jaewon was my friend. But my dad said he wanted to ruin him. Said Jaewon was the cause of all the scandals and everything that went wrong.” Jun shrugged. “Granted, he said that three years ago.”
Minsung’s face shifted and hardened into an unreadable mask before softening. “Who’s your dad?”
“Park. The High Class CEO. Uh, Jaewon’s boss.”
Minsung’s mouth formed an O-shape. “I think,” he said slowly. “That there’s a lot you don’t know, and a lot you’ve been lied to about.”
Jun snorted. “I don’t doubt that.”
“Mmm.” Minsung glanced at his phone. “It’s late. And I need to take a taxi home or something.”
“Do you wanna crash at my place?”
—————————
Jun’s flat smelled like cigarettes, stale coffee, and fabric softener. It was mostly clean, except for a few cups strewn here and there, and a couple of papers scattered about.
Minsung sat down heavily on the couch before swinging his legs up and around. He leaned back, sinking into one of Jun’s throw pillows.
“Good night.”
“Night.”
Jun slipped into his room, trying to process that Lee Minsung was in his home, that Lee Minsung was another idol, and that Lee Minsung was acting friendly as Jaewon had. Jun hated it. What if he got hurt again? What if there was something that drove them apart and he was left alone, again?
What if Minsung had secrets too?
He flopped onto his bed, eyes begging to be shut, begging for the sweet release of sleep and rest.
Jun woke to the scent of soup, a pounding headache, and the distinct feeling he wasn’t alone. All of last night rushed back to him in a wave of confused embarrassment. Had he cried in front of Minsung? Stumbling to the bathroom, he washed his face and scrubbed at his red-rimmed eyes.
Minsung was in the kitchen when he emerged, a frilly apron tied round his waist. Jun hadn’t realized he had kept the thing— a gag gift from Nari. On Minsung, it didn’t look horrible.
“Morning.”
“Morning. I made breakfast.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“You didn’t have to give me a place to sleep.”
The two glared at each other. Nothing mean-spirited, more two headstrong men fighting with each other to out-nice the other. Minsung was winning. Jun broke eye contact, hanging his head in defeat.
“Fine. Thanks for breakfast.”
Minsung smiled, handing Jun a bowl of soup. Jun had to admit, that the soup was great and Minsung was a really good cook. He dug in, not realizing how hungry he was until the bowl was empty. He had a second, then excused himself to do the dishes. Minsung watched him, a bit like a hawk. Jun felt scrutinized.
“You’re staring.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“You’re judging the tattoos?” Jun guessed. It was a valid guess, to his credit. Tattoos were taboo in Korea— even still. He liked them and that was all that mattered.
“Hmm? No. I like them. It wasn’t judging, more admiring.” Minsung stumbled over his words a bit but smiled a soft and genuine and earnest smile. Jun disliked how much he wanted to trust Minsung. Jaewon had once smiled at him like that.
“You have questions for me.”
“I have questions for everyone.”
“Tell me about your group.”
Minsung looked surprised momentarily but launched into a description of the SA1NT members. Young J was a sweetheart who made sure everyone was okay before himself. (Minsung was afraid he was going to run himself into a ditch and apologize to the mud.) Hyunjin was busy and a bit worked thin but was ultimately cheerful and happy. (A mood maker, Minsung and called him.) Kyunghun was a bit mischievous and had a secret tattoo behind his right ear of a cat. (Minsung told Jun this is why he didn’t judge the tattoos.) Taeseok was the maknae, the sassy one, the tired one, the one who worked too much. (Minsung said the entire group doted on him.)
Jun had listened with a smile, nodding and laughing at all the right parts as if he were reading a script.
—————————
“And sign here, Mr Lee.”
The young, rather pretty artist smiled at Minsung as she handed him a liability waiver. Minsung nodded, before looking at Jun who have an encouraging nod. He touched the pen to paper and signed with a small idol-signature flourish. Jun had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting.
The stencil was pressed against the right side of Minsung’s ribcage and he glanced at it in the mirror. Flowers bloomed from his side under a sky of inky stars, easily covered with a shirt. The management company might freak out, but right now Jun’s thumbs up were all he needed.
“Looks perfect.” He said to the artist and lay down in her chair.
The next three hours were agony, every trace of the gun reminding him that what he was doing was permanent and that it couldn’t be undone. When it was finished, however, any memory of the pain had faded. Minsung stared at the blooming mugungwhas under several stars. They were coloured with nothing but black, white, and grey.
It was the most beautiful thing Minsung had ever seen. Jun gave him a thumbs up.
“Looks just like you, Hyung.”
He wasn’t sure when Jun had switched to calling him “Hyung” over Minsung, but he found that he didn’t mind too much. Or at all. Jun felt like family, as guarded as he was. Minsung didn’t— wouldn’t— press. Jun would tell him stuff on his own time. He ran a hand through his now brown hair and paid for the tattoo.
Jun drove him home.
For as much as Minsung could trash talk the CEO, he did support Jun well. The boy got enough money to live off of, and adding it to his part-time job at the parlour where Minsung had gotten his tattoo, he was doing well.
“Thanks for driving me.” Minsung hummed.
“Don’t mention it. Five thousand won Taeseok is the one who flips out the most about the tattoo?”
“Deal.”
Minsung clambered out of the car and watched Jun drive off before heading upstairs.
It turned out, that Minsung had won their bet. Kyunghun flipped out.
“YOU GOT INKED? AND DIDN’T TAKE ME?”
“I mean— it was spontaneous and—“
“No. You know what— once that’s healed, you and me, let’s get one together.”
“What?”
“I mean— please? You’re like— the goodest good boy out of all of us. And now you’re being all rebellious!” Kyunghun grinned. “I want some of this bad-boy Minsung Hyung.”
Minsung nodded before gently cuffing Kyunghun on the head. “You get worked up about the weirdest things.”
“I’d hardly call this weird.” Taeseok butted in. “You’re different. Ever since you met Jun.”
Minsung opened his mouth to respond, but Hyunjin was pushing up his shirt, trying to get a look at the tattoo. Everyone’s jaw collectively dropped when they saw it.
“It’s so. You.” Youngjoon smiled. “Like it was made for you.”
Minsung stared down at it, tracing the petals with his eyes. Every shade felt right, he decided. The stars crept across his chest like they were pushing the boundaries he’d mentally set for them. Each flower was in permanent bloom, forever perfect and untouched by harsh winters.
Kyunghun was staring at it fondly. “Nice job, Hyung.”
His manager was a bit less than thrilled. Minsung had argued with him for several hours before getting a meeting with the company CEO. Thankfully, he was a bit more understanding than CEO Park. Jun’s father kept reminding himself.
The older man threaded a hand through his hair but smiled ruefully. “Guess you guys can’t have an angel image forever.”
Minsung looked up. He was still red in the face from arguing with the manager, eyes holding tears that he refused to let out. His side throbbed a little— the tattoo was still healing. He’d still partook in practice though, still went to recording sessions, still did his interviews.
The CEO continued. “I’ve been thinking of you guys doing a bit of a bad-boy concert for a while, so it all works out.”
“Thank you, sir,” Minsung mumbled.
“Dismissed.” The CEO waved his hand. “I have a batch of auditions to review.”
—————————
SA1NT’s comeback was explosive. It hit the top charts and skyrocketed upwards, breaking records in Korea and overseas. Minsung called Jun as soon as the video went live.
Jun had watched it while on the phone with Minsung, oohing and ahhing at every scene cut, beat drop, dance break, and high note. It was a success, to say the least. Minsung’s now healed tattoo was on full display— though many fans believed it was temporary and claimed they’d mourn the loss when it faded. The bubblegummy hair colours were gone, all of them sporting shades of black and silver.
The song itself was incredible. It was so different from their usual discography and felt more akin to MAYHEM’s Find A Way in its genre. Apparently, the five boys had spent countless nights working on it together. Jun fumbled with his phone a bit but quickly added the song to his playlist.
“You should come over! We’ll have drinks and stuff. It’s been a while since you've been over.” Minsung sounded excited and shouted inquires of if Jun was actually coming over made their way over the phone.
“Yeah, I’ll come. See you in fifteen.”
Minsung said something, but it was drowned out by Taeseok’s excited whoop. Jun hung up, a bit at a loss of what to do to get ready. He straightened his shirt, then took it off and left it on the floor. He rummaged in his closet, pulling things out and deciding that no, it was too formal or not formal enough. Eventually, Jun settled on one of the hoodies he’d stolen from Kyunghun. It was a dark navy blue, with a heavy silken feeling. Jun liked how soft it was.
Pulling up to the dorm, Jun idled in the car for a few moments before clambering out. The door was practically thrown open for him, and he was pulled inside by a rather eager Hyunjin. Youngjoon helped him get his balance. As much as Jun had considered Jaewon a friend— he’d never done stuff like this. It hurt to think about, even now. SA1NT felt like family. In the year— coming on year and a half— that he’d known them, they treated him like family.
Even if he was the rival CEO’s son.
Jun had gotten his license to tattoo people professionally and was working full-time at the small parlour. He didn’t touch his father’s money, anymore. It went into the bank, reminding him that it was there if needed. Jun didn’t need it— didn’t want to need it. He’d done one for Minsung, then one for Kyunghun, then surprisingly one for Hyunjin.
Hyunjin cuffed his shoulder. “Jun! Wake up and have a seat with us.”
Jun obliged, before smiling at the assembled group.
“A toast!” Minsung said, raising a beer bottle, “To the comeback and its success!”
They clinked their bottles and took a long sip. Laughter and drinks and everything echoed off the walls, and Jun realized that he was comfortable. He was happy.
“You know,” Minsung said, blowing out a plume of smoke. They were on the balcony after the food was finished. “You don’t have to make up with Jaewon.”
“What?”
“Your face said it all. You’re still thinking and torturing yourself over it. And I’m here to tell you that you don’t need to make up if you don’t want to.”
“I mean—“
“There’s nothing to do but potentially clear up a misunderstanding. You guys aren’t obligated to stay friends forever. Minsoo says Jaewon is moving on. Maybe you should too.”
“Yeah.” Jun lit a fresh cigarette. “Maybe I will.”
“You got us if you want. No secrets— except for the fact that Taeseok has a stash of lollies under his bed. But all of us— we’re willing to be there for you.”
Jun felt a smile dance on his lips. “Thanks, Hyung.”
“It’s not always the right choice to let a friendship go, mind you. I was stupid for fighting with Minsoo for so long. But in this case, it’s been four, almost five years. And I’m here to tell you it’s okay.” Minsung was staring, possibly beyond Jun and Seoul and the cityscape.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jun tilted his head back. “Did you mean what you said?”
“Which part?”
“The part about no secrets.”
“Every word.”
The sincerity that covered Minsung’s words was enough to bring tears to Jun’s eyes. He stood there, tears wordlessly streaming down his face, letting the knot in his chest loses and unravel. He cried as Minsung put his arm around his shoulders, cried until there was nothing left in him to give up.
Jun cried and Minsung was there. They all were there, he realized. Taeseok was sitting on one of the balcony seats, and Kyunghun was stroking his back. Hyunjin and Youngjoon were just there, their presence comforting and familiar. Jun waited for the hot wave of shame and guilt to rise up, but it didn’t come. This was family. More than mum, more than dad, more than Jaewon.
“You’re safe,” Hyunjin murmured in Jun’s ear. “It’s okay.”
“I’m home,” Jun replied hoarsely. “I’m home.”
—————————
“Yes, I’m eating, Hyung.” Jun rolled his eyes. “You packed me lunch and I ate it!”
Youngjoon said something on the other line that Jun huffed a response to.
“I gotta go. Customer. Yes, I’ll see you tonight. Bye!”
SA1NT had aged well in the entertainment industry. Even after disbandment, they remained successful. Some had solo careers (Minsung and Taeseok), others had acting careers (Kyunghun and Youngjoon), and Hyunjin had become a vocal coach for new groups.
Without SA1NT, MAYHEM had been able to see the fame they always deserved. Jun was able to listen to their music and cheer for them without hurting inside, anymore. He and Jaewon were history. A beautiful moment, frozen in time.
“Sorry bout that.” Jun hurried to the counter. “Do you have an appointment?”
The customer shook his head, dislodging the hood that had covered most of his face.
Jun looked up from his appointment book. “Can I have a name, then?”
They both knew the name— Jun knew it from the moment he saw the stranger’s face. He saw a glimmer of recognition in the other’s face.
“Ahn Jaewon.”