Work Text:
“Welcome to Changbin Salon!”
Changbin announces at the top of the staircase, one hand on his hip, the other dramatically swooping outward as if he’s presenting a five star luxury establishment. As if it's not their living room with little too many cushions and a towel draped over a dining chair.
Chan blinks up at him from the floor. “Is… is the salon open for kids below ten?”
Changbin sniffs, flicks imaginary bangs. “Of course. We offer premium services, even for customers below ten. Hair spa. Face massage. Maybe even nail art if Staff Jisung is careful.”
Four excited customers bounce in place.
Changbin claps his hands. “All right, customers! Please form a line. No pushing. No screaming. No- HEY! JINJIN! THAT’S NOT A LINE, STOP JUMPING ON THE SOFA!”
Hyejin giggles and somersaults off the couch, landing on her knees. “I wanna be first!”
Yongbok steps forward, crossing her arms. “I booked an appointment yesterday.”
Changbin’s jaw drops. “When? Where? How?”
She shrugs. “In my brain.”
Chan pursed his lips.
Guiding them in, Changbin drapes towels on each kid with exaggerated professionalism.
“Welcome to our exclusive hair spa. Today we offer peach conditioner, strawberry shampoo, and—”
“Mint chocolate!” Yongbok adds.
“Please tell me that isn’t in the bathroom.” Seungmin whispers, horrified.
“It might be,” Jisung says softly.
“No mint chocolate.” Seungmin decides. “We’re not explaining to Lina why her child smells like dessert.”
“Or why she’s sticky,” Jisung adds.
“OR WHY SHE’S GREEN,” Changbin finishes.
Seungmin sighs and kneels with Yongbok first. He gently wets her hair with warm water from a cute pink spray bottle.
Yongbok sighs dramatically. “Ohhhh this is luxury.”
Chan nods seriously from his seat. “I want the luxury too.”
“You’ll get luxury,” Jisung promises, patting his head. “But first, your sister.”
Behind them, Hyejin tries to dunk her entire face in the bowl of water meant for washing.
“JINJIN NO!” Three male voices scream in unison.
She pops up, soaking wet and proud. “Doing face wash!”
Jihan watches from beside her, then very slowly copies… putting only his nose in the bowl. “Me too.”
Seungmin panics. “WHY DID WE THINK WE COULD DO THIS?”
Yongbok turns to Changbin the salon manager. “Mr. Manager Bin, I wanna be a T-Rex!” she declares.
“That’s NOT a spa service-”
“It is now!” she says and roars.
At this point, Seungmin stops working on Yongbok’s hair, and looks around at the devastation.
“We should’ve gone to the spa with them.” muttered the man.
Jisung nods wearily. “We should’ve begged.”
Changbin declares dramatically, “No. We survive this. We thrive. We are MEN. And this is CHANGBIN SALON.”
A cushion hits him in the face.
And despite the helplessness of the salon staff, all the kids are glowing, laughing, babbling happily.
And the men, tired, hopeless, overwhelmed, still try their best, because the women deserve a peaceful break… and the kids deserve to have fun.
They were exhausted.
After the spa chaos, bubbles all overthe bathroom floor, cucumber slices under the couch, a towel mysteriously over the air conditioner, all spa professionals collapsed onto the living room floor. Jisung was spreading his legs dramatically like he had just finished a world tour. Seungmin looked emotionally destroyed by Hyejin’s insistence on purple shampoo for pink hair. Changbin was still rubbing lotion out of his eyebrows.
But kids? Completely energized.
Yongbok sat cross-legged on the sofa, tapping her tiny feet like a producer waiting for talent to impress her. Chan was leaning on the coffee table, still humming something he had been playing on the toy piano earlier. Jihan lounged on a pillow, and Hyejin was bouncing. Constant. Bouncing.
Then,
“We want a CONCERT!” Yongbok declared.
Seungmin blinked.
“Concert,” Hyejin repeated slowly. “Mama went to spa day. We need spa day AND concert day.”
“Concert day?” Jisung straightened. “I can handle that. I’ll... Appa will show you one of our new artists’ shows-”
“NO!” Yongbok suddenly stood up. “Play Channie's songs!”
Everyone froze.
Changbin choked. “Wait- his songs? Channie… he wrote like hundred songs and most are about traffic rules and wolves escaping.”
“It’s emotional,” Chan said, dead serious.
“He’s a real artist.” Yongbok gasped like he was a prodigy.
Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay… so what does that mean?”
“It means,” Chan said, pushing his hair back dramatically like a mini rockstar, “We make our own band.”
Hyejin jumped. “YEAH!! BAND! BAND! BAND!” Yelled out the girl, and Jihan nodded because everyone else was nodding.
Jisung blinked. “Wait- like… now? Right now?”
The kids were already handing out roles. “Uncle Han, guitarist.” Yongbok said, pointing like a director. “Papa is the lead singer,” she declared. Both men froze, but smiled anyway.
Chan slapped a notebook on the table. “I’ll write the setlist. Three songs. One new. One old. One remix.”
Changbin perked up. “What am I?”
“The drummer,” Chan said.
Changbin grinned so hard he nearly pulled a muscle. Drums were dramatic. Loud. Powerful. He could absolutely steal the show.
“Us?” Jihan asked, pointing at himself and the girls.
“The audience,” Chan said, flipping his hair. “Sit, clap, scream. Very important job. Mostly enjoy my art.”
“I CAN SCREAM,” Hyejin promised. “VERY LOUD.”
“We know,” all three men said at the same time.
Then the preparation began.
The living room transformed instantly. Toy instruments dragged out, cushions becoming barricades, a hairbrush becoming a microphone stand. Chan sat on the floor with a sheet of paper and pen, scribbling lyrics and crossing things out like a true composer in crisis.
“No traffic lights this time,” Changbin said over his shoulder.
Chan huffed. “Fine. But I’m keeping the part about wolves crying when people eat broccoli.”
“Art,” Yongbok whispered, starry-eyed.
Jisung tuned his actual guitar, while Seungmin was going through vocal warm-ups with concerning seriousness. Changbin was smacking kitchen pots to test drum quality, ignoring the fact that it was ruining his dad's sanity.
And the kids…?
They watched their brothers and dads prepare with anticipation.
And the real chaos hadn’t even begun yet.
The concert hall, the living room, began to glow, lights off, curtains closed, one disco bulb Changbin found in the storage blinking weakly like a dying star. Jisung swears it still works perfectly fine, even though it flickers like a haunted lamp.
The kids don’t mind. The vibe is perfect.
Chan stands in front, clutching his tiny notebook of lyrics, even though they’re basically doodles and two words repeated fifteen times.
“Everyone ready?” he asks with a dramatic seriousness.
“YES, PRODUCER CHAN!!” Yongbok screamed from the couch, her legs kicking in excitement.
“I cannot believe I’m debuting in a group managed by a seven-year-old.” Seungmin sighs, holding the toy microphone from Yongbok’s princess set.
Chan flips his hair. “Quality over age.”
Changbin twirls the tiny plastic drumsticks he from Jihan’s toy set. “Guys... band name check?”
Jisung tightens the strap of his acoustic guitar. “Chan said we’re called HLC.”
“Hydrochloric acid?” Changbin scoffs.
Jisung shakes his head, “That's HCl.” He rolled his eyes in defeat, and looked at Chan.
Chan just smirks. “HLC stands for Homeless Children.”
Changbin raises a brow. “Homeless- what?”
Yongbok gasps. “WOWWW, SO COOL!”
So that’s that.
The Homeless Children are born.
Chan steps forward.
He coughs dramatically into Seungmin’s toy mic before remembering he’s not the singer.
“I... uh- present to you… our new single. Inspired by escaping this world. Love. Homework. And... and life.”
Jisung strums a chord, and Changbin immediately starts hitting the toy drum set with genuine intensity, like this is a world tour and not their living room.
Seungmin takes a deep breath and sings. It’s… not bad. Actually, it’s kind of good. Good enough that the kids freeze, eyes wide, as if they’re watching a real idol.
Yongbok clutches her chest dramatically. “Papa’s voice is shining! Magical!!”
Hyejin grabs Jihan’s arm and shakes it. “THE CONCERT IS SO BEAUTIFUL!”
Jihan nods with wise seriousness. “It is.”
Yongbok stand up on the couch and. “LIGHTS! WE NEED MORE LIGHTS!!”
Immediately, the twins sprint to the side table lamp and start flicking it on and off like stage lighting technicians.
Chan is thrilled. “This is PERFECT. Keep going!”
Seungmin tries singing through the flickering but ends up laughing so hard he misses half a verse. Jisung jumps to cover him with an impromptu guitar solo that absolutely does not fit the song, while Changbin bangs the drums louder to match the chaos.
Needless to say, the room sounds like a rock concert inside a washing machine.
Chan lifts one hand dramatically. “Final chorus! SINGER SEUNGMIN LET’S GOOOO!”
Seungmin gives his best idol pose, one hand clutching the mic, one hand on heart, and belts the final line like it’s his debut stage at a sold-out arena.
The kids go WILD.
Yongbok jumps. “ENCORE!! ENCOOOOORE!!!”
Hyejin, joins her big sister. “I WANNA JOIN THE BAND!!”
Jisung doubles over in laughter, while Changbin wipes imaginary sweat, and Seungmin bows like a professional.
Chan stands proudly, tiny chest puffed, arms crossed. “Thank you for coming to our first mini concert. We will sign autographs later.”
Yongbok gasps. “REALLY?!”
Chan shrugs. “Sure. Three candies per signature.”
Jisung gasped. “Hey! No scamming the audience!”
Chan just shrugs. “Artists need to eat!”
Just like that, the concert ends with everyone laughing, sweaty, out of breath, and buzzing from the joy of pure nonsense.
And just as the kids gather to hug the performers, Seungmin looks around the chaotic, glowing, messy room and sighs fondly.
“This is… actually one of our better ideas.”
Jisung flops onto the couch. “I know, right? Should we debut for real? I can even produce.”
Chan immediately panicked. “NO. I don’t trust any of you with my creative vision.”
The kids laugh again, clinging to the adults as the “Homeless Children world tour” become official.
The front door clicks open quietly, almost swallowed by the noise coming from the living room.
Hyunjin steps in first, balancing four shopping bags on one arm, Minhee behind her with her own haul, and Jeongin lastly, humming, two big bags for herself to carry.
They’re laughing about something Jeongin said in the car when Hyunjin suddenly freezes. Minhee bumps into her. Jeongin bumps into Minhee.
And then all three stare.
Because right in the center of the living room is… chaos.
Changbin is on the dining chair like it’s a stage riser, going absolutely feral on makeshift drums made of pots and pans. Jisung is beside him with his favorite guitar, dramatically sliding into riffs way too intense for a living-room band. Seungmin is the designated vocalist, doing his best idol pose while singing whatever lyrics Chan throws at him.
Chan, standing in front confidently like a producer, is holding a notebook full of scribbles.
“Again! But with feelings this time, Uncle Min!”
Yongbok, Hyejin, and little Jihan sit proudly on the couch wearing spa headbands, and they clap out-of-sync for every beat the boys make.
The whole room smells faintly of lavender lotion, fruit-scented hair serum, and… was that nail polish?
Minhee covers her mouth, trying not to laugh too loud, as Hyunjin whispers, “What… happened?”
“Men trying to babysit.” Jeongin whispers back.
Seungmin dramatically hits a high note, one he clearly was not built to hit, but actually good, and Changbin immediately pauses drumming to stare at him like he just gave birth to music.
Chan shouts, “Uncle Seungmin! That was AWESOME!!”
Yongbok nods seriously. “Yes. Papa sounds expensive.” Said the girl, and Hyejin claps proudly at her own declared wisdom.
The women silently melt at the scene.
Jisung suddenly notices the door. “OH-” He trips on the pot his son used as a drum. “You guys are home early!”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “It’s seven.”
Minhee tries not to laugh. “What happened here?”
“The children wanted a spa and a concert. We improvised.” Seungmin, still holding the mic with dignity, answers.
Jeongin bursts out laughing. “This looks like you survived a disaster.”
Jisung holds his hips. “We tried. Really. The spa was… aggressive. But the concert was great.”
“Yeah! We are very professional!” Chan proudly adds.
Hyejin jumps off the couch, running straight to Hyunjin. “Mama! Did you see my face?” She tilts her head up.
Hyunjin kisses her head. “Beautiful, baby.”
Jihan waddles over to her and shows off his tiny painted nails. “Appa did this!”
Hyunjin smiles so wide her eyes curve. “Wow, baby. That’s… abstract art.”
The women finally step fully inside, placing their bags down, and take in the full picture.
Hyunjin walks forward and cups Jisung’s face. “You did amazing. Taking care and entertaining the kids.”
Jisung melts instantly. “It was… we barely survived but we had fun.”
Minhee nudged Seungmin. “Thank you for taking care of them.”
Jeongin ruffles Chan hair, and shoots a glance at Changbin. “Good job, my rockstars.”
They all gather, some sitting on the couch, some on the carpet, some on laps, and the living room becomes one big cuddly heap of limbs, laughter, glitter, and love.
The kids lean into their parents, exhausted and content. Hyejin curls into her Appa's lap, Chan rests his head on Jisung’s shoulder, and Changbin sits close enough to pretend he doesn’t need a cuddle, but Seungmin pulls him in anyway. Yongbok flops onto her mother's chest, as Jihan falls asleep halfway across Jeongin’s legs.
And slowly… slowly…
One by one…
Everyone drifts into soft sleepy warmth.