A/N

To you, who have loved my story, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

 

 

--New York, New York, Fifteen Years Later--

 

A man, already holding a steaming cup of coffee, walked into a coffee shop on fifth avenue. He took a sip and settled at all tall table against the front seat. The man looked out the window coolly to survey the normal chaos of the New York life.

His midnight bangs were slightly curled over his forehead. The sides were buzzed in a gray fuzz. The sleek black coat slid off his broad shoulders as he slung the smooth fabric over his chair, watching in amusement as a lady outside yelled at a cab driver. He hoisted himself up in the high seat and crossed his legs, that dangled and didn’t touch the ground.

If one thing hadn’t changed, it was his height.

“And that concludes the top ten hits of this week. This is the noon music show, for your music lovin’-finger tappin’ news,” The song playing on the radio faded and a woman’s voice came on. “The popular radio host, Seokmin of the nighttime entertainment show, Kiss the Radio, featured a special guest last night.”
The man subconsciously pulled his black turtleneck over his chin. He tilted his hat down and turned his head away from the prying eyes of the coffee workers to look outside. The workers looked judgingly at the man using up a their table with a rebought coffee from another store. He knew this but still, he couldn’t help but get a little paranoid when people stared at him.

“The radio host revealed his personal friendship with producer, singer and songwriter, Woozi, by having him on his show in celebration of the ten-year-anniversary of the song that topped Billboard chars worldwide and kickstarted the singer’s career into the producing world.”

A coffee shop employee approached the him, offering samples on a platter. The man didn’t look at her but wordlessly shooed her away with a limp finger. The employee sauntered away, looking increasingly more sour.

“Woozi, who’s remains anonymous was interviewed in audio only. In the past, there has been rumors of interview offers with Time Magazine and Rolling Stone but the producer has consistently turned down any offer to be in the spotlight. On Kiss the Radio, the singer revealed why for his sudden appearance was because the host, Seokmin, and I quote, ‘wouldn’t stop asking. And it was getting hard to avoid the question’.”

The man tapped his pointed shoes impatiently, know looking out the window expectantly. He glanced at his silver watch and scoffed.

“His fans were finally able to hear what his speaking voice sounded like. He preformed the hit “Simple” from his self produced album to honor the anniversary. Since “Simple”, Woozi has not since sang a song for himself, but instead his name can found credited on other artist’s albums, fourty of which have made it into the top ten on the Billboard Music Charts.”

The door chimed as another man walked in. This man was tall with a pastel blue suit and a white doctor’s coat.

The first man stood up as the second approached the table.

“I haven’t gotten my tea yet,” The second said, looking at the first’s man coffee in hand. “I came straight from my last client.”

“You are still forgetful as ever, Joshua.” The first man said.

Joshua smiled with his crinkled cat eyes as he took off his coat and sat down opposite the man. He tried his best to seem as not awkward as he felt. “How have you been, Woozi?”

The man coughed pointedly, doing a swift mental survey of people within ear-range. “Jihoon.”

Joshua adjusted himself in the seat. “Ah, Woozi is your stage name now, right? I should’ve figured with the fame and everything you would go by something different.”

“And not something to be talked loudly about in cafes.”

Joshua inspected his friend with a sense of awe. From the rumors he’s heard and from the look of the man himself, Jihoon was doing mighty good.

His friend’s style had not changed; it had only become more expensive. His attire remained all black, but now was tagged with name brands that had been hand tailored to his slim legs. Jihoon’s black curly hair matched his all black outfit. His shoes were made of leather, and shirt of pure cotton. He adjusted his round glasses. Joshua winced at the glare Jihoon’s watch; it was a black metal hinted with a rose gold.

Okay, damn. He was doing a lot better than he thought.

“I am more of a behind-the-scenes kind of producer.” Jihoon took his glasses off. “I want to be able to go to the grocery store without being mobbed by strangers wanting my autograph.”

“How have you been?” The producer’s slender fingers, adorned with rings, twisted his coffee cup around. “I see you became a counselor.” Joshua wore a suit and tie. His hair jelled back to reveal his forehead.

“Psychologist,” Joshua corrected him with a friendly wave. “I work at a rehab center just down the road. I prescribe drugs to addicts to slowly wean their body off of the drug without going into withdrawals.” He smiled to himself, looking content.

“Sounds like a step up from counselor.” Jihoon slid the round frames down his nose and folded them on the table and took a sip of his coffee. Joshua raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Jihoon to continue.

“Ah, me?” Jihoon quickly swallowed his mouthful and cleared his throat. “I am an in-house composer at the New York Metropolitan Mueseum of Art,” He tilted his head back and forth, smiling slightly. “But I sell songs to entertainment companies in my free time. The freelance songs are my main income at the moment but I figure I better have an actual day job incase the companies decide my songs are one day.”

The older of the two sat back in his chair, “You work at the Metropoliltion? That’s some day job.”

“When a new artist has an expedition, I compose songs as background music.” Jihoon scoffed with his usual dull tone, “There is no thrill quite like composing different variations of elevator music.”

“And that isn’t your main income?” Joshua raised a brow. He wondered how much Jihoon sold his freelance songs for, if in comparison, working at the most prestigious art museum in the world was considered a second rate salary.

Jihoon smiled with a tinge of arrogance, “I write billboard topping songs. I’m not making minimum wage.”

“Of course,” Joshua agreed, easily feeding into his old friend’s inflated ego, a habit that apparently hadn’t changed over all those years.

A worker came over and handed Joshua his tea with his name already written on the cup. Joshua, in turn, handed them a few bills and coins, the exact amount of his tea calculated down to the penny. He must be a regular. Jihoon figured this is why Joshua designated this particular coffee shop as a meeting place.

“Let’s get straight into this,” Jihoon tapped his pointed shoes on the chair leg and leaned forward, both hands on his cup. “I reached out to you for obvious reasons.”

“Dino is getting married,” Joshua said. “And he didn’t want things to be awkward between us at the wedding.”

The two had not talked in all of the fifteen years. In fact, Joshua had not talked to any of his old friends. The only one he was in current contact with was Dino, and occasionally Jeonghan.

“Yes,” Jihoon muttered. “You and I, along with Hoshi, DK, Mingyu, Wonwoo and Jeonghan are all groomsmen, or didn’t you know?”

“I knew. But I wondered, what about Coups?”

“He is walking Dino down the isle,” Jihoon said. “They made the adoption legal a long time ago.”

Joshua’s lips lifted up in a smile at the thought, “Is the girl nice?”

“You haven’t met her?”

Joshua ran a finger through his hair. Jihoon wondered how it was possible with the copious amount of jell it must have taken to tame Joshua’s bed head. “I met her once. It was a brief. I know Hoshi introduced the two.”

“She was an ensemble dancer and Hoshi was technically her boss. He is a dance captain for that new show at the Broadhurst Theater on Broadway. She and Dino met at Hoshi’s wedding.”

“Hoshi is on Broadway? And married?” Joshua’s eyes widened behind his reading glasses. “The marriage thing is more shocking. would’ve never thought he would get tied down.”

“Same,” Jihoon took a slip of his coffee. “Believe me, It was a surprise to us all when Hoshi was the one to propose. We always thought DK would be the one to pop the question.”

Joshua’s coffee stopped at his lips,“D-DK? Y-you don’t mean-?”

“Gosh, you really don’t know anything. All it took was DK to get into a serious with some other guy and Hoshi finally realized he liked the idiot. They only dated for two months before Hoshi proposed. Their last names are jointed; Soonyoung and Seokmin Kwon-Lee.”

“I never would’ve guessed,” Joshua said. “I knew DK was gay. And we all knew Hoshi was something. But together-? I would’ve never.”

“That kinda happens when you run off. You miss things.” Joshua couldn’t miss the sharpness of Jihoon’s gaze.

“The question is going to get asked eventually.” Jihoon folded his arms, raising a thick black eyebrow. “Did you think I was going to not?”

“I knew you would,” Joshua smiled tensly from the side of his mouth, crossing his knees delicately. “It’s been a while, I thought you wouldn’t be so forward.”
“So. Answer the question,” Jihoon said. “Why did you run off?”

Joshua opened his mouth to speak but his lips curled into an embarrassed smile. “Why I ran? I don’t know. I c-can’t really say what it was.”

“You were a coward.”
The psychologist’s eyes lowered, he blew air from his lips. “Yes. That would sum it up.”

Jihoon took a sip of his tea and looked at his watch. “I would prefer if we got all the awkward conversation out of the way. I have to be back in work in ten.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. His lips letting out a strangled scoff, “You haven’t changed a bit. It’s always go-go-go with you.”

“Just tell me. I’m not angry about it anymore, but you did burn a bridge and this is for Dino. I want wedding operations to go smoothly.”.

Joshua’s lips pursed. He knew if he wanted the rest of his old friends to act civil, he would have to get Jihoon’s approval first. Jihoon was the only one who could convince the rest.

“I left because I thought I could find her.”

Jihoon leant back in his chair. “I figured as much. And what about when you didn’t find her?”

“When I didn’t find her, I didn’t want to come back.”

“Why?”

“I had already screwed a lot of things up. With the texts I sent and the gangs and , well, everything. She left because of a decision I made-” Joshua shoulders bobbed with a heavy sigh. “It was too much.”

“You were stupid.”

“I know that now.” Joshua waved a hand. “But at the time, I had already drove across the country looking for her. I was low on gas and funds. I got a job to pay off my hotel bills and ended up settling down.”

“You never reached out to let us know you were okay.”

“I figured I didn’t need to.” Joshua said. “I figured no one would want me around.”

“I certainly didn’t.” Jihoon breathed into his coffee cup, taking another gulp. He set the cup down and traced the perimeter of the lid with his index finder. “But if you were around to help clean up the aftermath, I would’ve overcome that.”

All this talk took Jihoon back.

The memory was one of those things Jihoon could never forget, second only to the moment Jihoon first heard his solo album got on the billboard charts.

It was the morning she left, Joshua had arrived at the apartment ready to help her pack her things- one of her many lies they had yet to discover. Joshua opened the door to Hoshi and DK attempting to pry information out of a mute Jihoon.

The article was discovered. Coup’s car and the dead body inside. The apartment became chaotic. Joshua slipped away somewhere in-between Hoshi’s drunk crying and Jihoon’s sudden outbursts

Joshua disappeared. And his phone number; disconnected.

No adjective had the strength to describe an inch of what Jihoon felt. Aliee was dead and when Jihoon needed his friend- the very friend they had worked to hard to save- he vanishes.

Final exams were a bloodbath. Jihoon barely passed.

After the dreaded tests, Jihoon was in an emotionless-emotional coma. He spent most days in the house she bought, in the basement they were supposed to share, looking at a room without her art supplies.

Everyday was a reminder of her absence. Jihoon’s inspiration ran dry, he stopped playing music and took a year off school.

Jihoon’s memory of Joshua had a bitter aftertaste. However, Dino had regained contact with the hipster. No one was interested in doing the same until Dino announced his engagement and everyone was faced with spending copious amounts of time with Joshua without a single attempted strangulation.

Jihoon had offered himself as a middleman. He thought he was the most justified in his anger toward Joshua, so therefore if he showed he could act normal around Joshua, it would set an example for everyone else to do the same.

“If it were up to me I would say, ‘ you’ and walk out,” Hoshi had said to Jihoon. “He can’t just expect everything to be a-okay after he left all of us in the dust after our friend was murdered. Murdered.”

“Give him a chance,” he heard DK say in the background, “It’s been years and he might have changed. I know I’m not the same person I was in college, I am sure he isn’t either.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Hoshi said. “We now. We didn’t do that in college.”

Jihoon hung up feeling a bit sick and unimpressed with their advice.

Joshua cleared his throat, clearing Jihoon out of his own thoughts. “Dino seems to think the body wasn’t hers.”

“He had told me his theory but Aliee is dead.” Jihoon removed the lid of his coffee and dumped in a packet of sugar, stirring the liquid with the end of his pinky. “Dino is full of hopeful, but worthless fantasies.”

“The body in Coups’s car was never identified.” Joshua raised his brow.

“Aliee erased all of her medical records. You can’t identify someone who never existed.” Jihoon rolled the wet finger in a napkin, raising an eyebrow.

The glimmer of silver drew Joshua’s attention to the keyring of Jihoon’s wallet, hanging off of the edge of the middle of the table. The pedant looked similar. “What is that? I feel like I have seen it before?” He extended his hand to touch it.

Quick but nonchalant at the same time, Jihoon slid the wallet away from Joshua’s fingers before he could reach it.

“It Aliee’s necklace. How did you recognize it?”

“I saw her wearing it once, I think.” Joshua continued to stare with a dazed look.

“But how would you? I gave it to her the night she disappeared.” Jihoon’s eyes wandered to the road outside.

Joshua cleared his throat, running his palms up and down his thighs. “I may- have-,”

“Did she go to your house? After she ran away from the art gallery and disappeared for an hour, did she go to you?” Jihoon’s brows crinkled, turning his gaze back to the stuttering psychologist. “I always wondered where she went.”

Joshua puffed his cheeks out in a pursed sigh. He certainly didn’t think this would be revealed during their first meeting.

“Yes,” Joshua shrugged. “She was running away from the gallery and she practically forced me to take her back to my place.”

Jihoon’s noticed his old friend’s nervous disposition, not fading with the sentence he just said. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“We kissed,” Joshua said, looking as if he had just choked on a bug.

“You kissed her? Aliee?”

“Don’t think too much into it. She wasn’t very interested in me that way. Hell, she even whispered your name during it.” Joshua said quickly.

“She said my name?

“She liked you,” Joshua said. “But based on her scared-as- expression, I didn’t think she knew it until I kissed her.”

Jihoon sat back in his seat, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip.

Joshua reached for the pendant, now on Jihoon’s side of the table. Jihoon swiped the wallet off of the edge and into his lap. Joshua looked at him.

“Why do you still have that? Do you still have feelings for her?”

“She’s dead,” Jihoon glared at him. “I am allowed to commemorate the dead, aren’t I?”

“You are,” Joshua started slowly, treading on what he knew was a minefield. “But commemoration is a picture at a house. Not a keychain you take with you everywhere.”

“Who are you to define what commemoration is?” Suddenly Jihoon had lost the lighthearted banter.

Joshua cracked a smile from the side of his mouth, “I was just teasing.”

Jihoon wasn’t smiling.

The front door chimed and a woman walked in pushing a stroller.

“Someone you know?” Jihoon said as the woman made her way to the table.

Formally speaking, Jihoon thought the woman was very attractive. She looked around Joshua’s age. Her black skin stood out, almost glowing against the bright interior colors of the coffee shop. She had prominent cheekbones and was very curvy.

“Its my girlfriend,” Joshua stood up and greeted her with a kiss on the lips. “Honey, this is my old friend.”
Jihoon extended his hand politely. This girl was way beyond Joshua’s league. “I’m Jihoon.”

“I don’t do handshakes.” She pulled him into a hug. Jihoon returned her squeeze. She released him with a stunning smile. “You are a skinny one aren’t you? Just like Shua. You should come over for dinner once, I’ll fatten you up.”
Jihoon thought he misheard. “Shua?”

“It’s my nickname. I guess I finally got one after all those years.” Joshua was squatting over the stroller and lifted a toddler out.

“Daddy!” The little girl screamed.

Jihoon’s stomach slammed into his throat. From the little’s girl complexion, she certainly looked half Joshua’s hot girlfriend and half Joshua. Jihoon’s eyes lingered on the couple’s fingers, he saw no rings.

“What did you do today, sweetie?” Joshua pecked his daughter on the forehead and adjusted what looked like one of a hundred bobby pins holding her hair back into a ponytail.

“I saw dinosaurs!” She said.

The mother patted the little girls hair and grinned, “I think you mean you watched a dinosaur movie at daycare today.”
The little girl’s big eyes widened, “Movie was big dinosaur and small dinosaur!” She squealed. “Like Unclie Dino!”

“Yours?” Jihoon chimed in, smirking.

Joshua set the little girl down. She tottered over to the table and stretched up to seize Jihoon’s expensive glasses. Joshua tensed as the toddler roughly handled the designer glasses. The musician just smiled and did not move to stop her.

“Life doesn’t always happen in the order you expect it,” Joshua said as the little girl scratched at the reflective lenses. “But I don’t regret it.”

“He better not,” The girlfriend said. “Took him three years to realize I was flirting.”
“I love you and our daughter very much,” Joshua pulled the woman closer as his daughter slammed the glasses on the table. “You are the best part of my life.”

Jihoon winced, fighting against rolling his eyes.

“I know I am,” the woman said with a hand on her hip.

Jihoon noticed a cross necklace on her collarbone. He had a sneaking suspicion. “Did you guys meet at church?”

The woman smiled, placing her hand on Joshua’s shoulder. Their daughter tottered over to Jihoon. She extended her pudgy hand up and looked at him with big eyes. Jihoon picked her up, sat back in the chair and bounced her on one knee. She grabbed upwards and Jihoon took it off gave passed it to her little hands to play with. She dropped Jihoon’s glasses.

“Oh my gosh,” Joshua picked them up. “I am so sorry, these must cost a fortune.” He started to wipe them off with the edge of his shirt. This only made Joshua more anxious, up close he could see the earpieces were silver, real silver no doubt.

“Chill,” Jihoon wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to the sunglasses. He was thinking about how the little girl bouncing on his knee had her father’s cat-like eyes. “You met at church?”

“Technically, yes.” The woman smiled kindly. “He was the guitar player in worship, I was the pastor.”

Jihoon nearly lost grip of the girl.

“You could imagine why I took me to long to realize she was flirting.” Joshua said.

Jihoon tried to process everything. Joshua was a guitar player at a church whose mega hot female pastor hit on him. Now, they have a kid but are unmarried. This was certainly not the path Jihoon would’ve guessed Joshua would have gone down.

“So are you still the pastor at the church, then? I know sometimes churches can be a little… strict about-,” Jihoon didn’t even know why he was bringing this up.

“ before marriage?” The woman finished for him. “Of course they weren’t thrilled, I don’t think anyone would be jumping for joy at an unplanned pregnancy. But things happen and the ministry understood.” The woman took Joshua’s hand. “We told the rest of congregation that we would raise our kid up within the church and teach them to love God as much as we do, and then the church was fine with it after that.”

“She is spoiled rotten by everyone at church now,” Joshua added.

The little girl looked up at Jihoon. Her cat eyes and full set of lips were most definitely from her father. Her high prominent cheekbones and skin was inherited from her mother. “Who are you?” The little girl asked.

“Do you listen to the radio?”

“Yes.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes, “You know Woozi?”

“He makes songs.” The girl put on Jihoon’s hat. It slid down to her chin. She giggled as Jihoon tugged the edges down as she tried to take it off.

“I am Woozi,” He whispered.

“You are not.” She said. “Daddy says Woozi is good singer. And you have small eyes.”
“I have small eyes so I can’t be a good singer?” Jihoon furrowed his brows.

The small child shook her head, explaining a logic that only made sense to four-year-old. “Daddy is a great singer; he has huge eyes.”
“Why can’t I be a good singer?” Jihoon placed a hand on his chest.

“You aren’t daddy,” she sighed sliding off of Jihoon. “Daddy has big eyes. People with big eyes can only be good singers. Daddy, lets go to the park!”

“In a minute, sweetie.” The edges of Joshua’s smile curled as he picked her up at set her on his shoulders. Her little hands drummed on the top of his head. “I was good to see you, Jihoon.” Joshua said.

“We should meet again,” Jihoon offered. “We should get lunch before our tux fittings next week.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, “It’s a deal.”

“It was nice to meet you.” The woman said. Jihoon offered his hand again but she pulled him into another bone crushing hug.

 

 

 

“How was it? Tell me it was good? You didn’t yell at him did you? Tell me you didn’t!”

Jihoon had barely opened the door to his office before he was barricaded with questions. His assistant got to his feet quickly, pushing Jihoon’s chair aside, trying to look less guilty.

“Dino, it was fine.” Jihoon strode over to his gleaming glass desk, swiping Dino out of the way. Jihoon reclined back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you, when I am gone, sit in your own chair- at your own desk.”

Dino glanced at the considerably smaller desk pushed into the corner of the big office. The dinky little plastic chair felt like a mockery compared to Jihoon’s chair that, comfort wise, could be mistaken for cloud. “You didn’t argue with him did you?” Dino scratched at the wood on his clipboard anxiously, “Plus, you know I have back problems.”

The assistance reached over and adjusted the silver name plate on the desk, shinning with the words, ‘Musical Director’.

Dino was dressed him casual work attire like Jihoon but with more color assortment than Jihoon’s normal black. When standing next to each other they were polar opposites; Jihoon decked in all black, his childlike stature and a resting expression mimicked one after drinking overdue milk, and Dino, with his bright button up shirts, serving with a continuous smile on his face and bouncing from gallery to gallery. To top it off, Dino was a head taller than his boss and even looked older than him as well.

Jihoon’s hand dropped from his nose “No, I wouldn’t yell at a coffee shop.” He closed his eyes only to squint up at Dino with crunched eyebrows. “Why didn’t you tell me he had a kid?”

“Every time I brought up Joshua, you didn’t want to hear it,” Dino said, flipping through pages on his clipboard. He paused on the schedule, tapping the Sunday box with his pen “Oh, I never asked. Are we still visiting my parents on Sunday?”
“We go every Sunday,” Jihoon said drily. “Stop asking when it is already assumed.”

After the adoption became official, Jihoon decided it was time to come clean to Dino about Jihoon being the one to put his father in the hospital bed.

There was anger and grief. Dino never really knew his father so some things were harder than others. The anger only lasted as long as it took for Dino to discover Jihoon’s payment of the hospital bill’s, Jihoon visiting his father every weekend and the new flower’s on Dino’s mother’s grave, also due to Jihoon.

Once Dino realized the indecent had affected Jihoon as much as it had himself, Dino found it hard to stay angry.

They both agreed to take his father off of life support. Now, there were two graves in need of a flower replacement every Sunday.

As for Dino’s older brother, Jihoon has successfully tracked him down. Dino only vaguely remembered him. Upon stopping at the address Jihoon had supplied him with, he found a wife and two kids. Dino walked away, leaving the door unknocked.

Perhaps, some things were meant to be lost. Dino could live his life knowing his brother was happy and loved but he couldn’t find it in himself to intrude, he thought it was a bit selfish to into a life he was absent for so long.

Maybe one day. Maybe after the wedding.

Dino’s phone went off and he picked it up. “Dad,” He answered. “No, break is over. Jihoon and I are about to make our way to the next meeting.” He listened for a second before turning to Jihoon. “He says you should give me a break.”

“What did Cheol really say?”

“He said ‘Dinner? Thursday?’” Dino mimicked the gruff voice.

“I’m busy then. Ask about Friday.”

Dino listened for a second, “He will be going back on Friday.”

Coups life was a different hotel in a different state every other week. The biker’s father’s business had taken off and Coups, unhappily, took over. Jihoon and Dino had tried to convince him to move to New York, since a third of his business meetings were there anyway,but Coup’s could hardly tolerate the atmosphere. The city was too chaotic; he much preferred the calmness of the smaller towns where he could ride his bike freely in the country roads without stopping at a goddamn stoplight every three feet.

Jihoon sighed. “Damn, Thursday, then. Tell Coups he’s paying for drinks. And then cancel the meeting with the Director for that afternoon, make an excuse that I have an extremely important doctor’s appointment.”

Dino relayed the information with a, “Goodbye, Dad,” before turning back to his clipboard. “You have a meeting with the artist in the 2B Contemporary gallery.”

Jihoon put his glasses back on, “You didn’t schedule me for a break?”

Dino hurried behind as Jihoon exited the office, “You don’t have for one time today.”

Curators and business men rushed past Jihoon. Like Dino, assistants accompanied each one. Jihoon took a shortcut through the gallery, the professionals mixed in with the visitors.

“I am just saying if I knew Joshua had a kid I would’ve-,” Jihoon spotted a staff before he passed by. “Chan, I’ve told you repeatedly, mark the dates with the color designated or so help me you will never-!” Jihoon’s tense voice dropped off just as the person passed out of earshot of the conversation. “I would’ve at least congratulated Joshua.” He added in a soft whisper.

“Whenever I brought Joshua up, you couldn’t have been more uninterested. I didn’t think you would care if he did have a kid.” Dino whispered back as another staff approached. Dino stopped walking immediately and bowed shortly. “Apologies sir! I will stay the weekend to make it up.”

The coworkers passed as well. Dino sighed as they resumed their walking as Jihoon said, “But a baby is one thing! You can’t be angry when a baby is in the mix- if you want to become an artist you better get used to the work ethic!” Jihoon added as a coworker passed by.

It had started like this; Dino wanted a job in New York to jumpstart his career at the same time Jihoon was looking for an assistant. Jihoon gave him the job, but it came with a condition: no one could know they knew each other. The producer had a reputation and he couldn’t let his coworkers see him being soft to Dino. Anytime a coworker or staff passed got within earshot of their conversation, they would immediately change the topic. Dino and Jihoon were so used to it at this point, they could have a personal conversation and fake a professional scolding simultaneously with ease.

“Have you babysitted before?” Jihoon asked, hands in his long coat.

“Once,” Chan said, “She is adorable, but can be a real horror when it comes to bedtime.”

Jihoon thought for a second about getting the little girl some kind of present. If Chan had Joshua’s daughter be the flower girl in the wedding, and he most likely would, Jihoon could offer to take the girl dress shopping. Perhaps that would smooth over some of the remaining tenseness between him and Joshua.

“Oh, these guards, HEY!” The guard stationed in one of the contemporary art gallerys looked to see an assistant storming towards him. Jihoon rolled his eyes.

"That visitor is stepping over the yellow tape.” Chan said, bluntly pointing at an older woman.

The guard looked over lazily, “She isn’t touching it.”

Chan got out his clipboard and scribbled something down hastily. “Simon, is it? Well, expect a call from the creative director, who I will be meeting with now.” Chan said heatedly. “May I remind you this is the Metropolitan, not your kid’s science fair!”

Jihoon smiled slyly as Chan flashed his laminated ID that read, ‘Personal Assistant’ at the man and grinned sardonically.

“An assistant? Please,” The guard scoffed. “Get your head out of your and get your boss some coffee. Leave me alone.”

Dino huffed away going back to his boss. The guard looked up to see Jihoon standing a foot away. Jihoon looked at the guard’s name scribbled on Dino’s clipboard and took note to remember it.

“M-mr. Lee!” It was at that moment that the guard knew he ed up.

“What hiring process is there for guards here?” Dino huffed, “I swear they must streetcast or something. Mark my words, when I am creative director, I will fire any misbehavior.” Dino rolled his shoulders back with pompous scowl. “At least care about those paintings.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. There Dino was again with his crazy conspiracy theories. “Dino. Those paintings are nothing special.”

Chan rolled his eyes, “They aren’t to you. You won’t believe me.”

“She’s dead.”

“Then, explain those!” Chan whispered heatedly. “It’s her style.” Jihoon pursed his lips, looking at the new exhibit of paintings in the modern gallery

Of that, Jihoon could not deny. There were similarities. But no dead girl could paint, that he was sure of. “I told you to drop this.”

The day the paintings were installed, Dino almost tore Jihoon’s arm off dragging him to the exhibit. Ever since, he hadn’t been able to keep his lopsided mouth shut about it.

“The artists name is Anonymous. You yourself said that she went by that name.”

“This is the art world, people go by anonymous everyday.”

“Just look at the art. Tell me it doesn’t feel familiar.”

“Drop it.” Jihoon said forcefully. “I don’t want to hear you talk about this again or by God, I will make you pick up hours on the weekend.”

Chan clamped his mouth shut, looking at his clipboard looking like he wanted to strangle it. “Yes, sir.”

“Who’s my next appointment?” Jihoon said, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Anonymous?” Chan said uneasily, gesturing to the paintings being referred to a second ago.

“ing awesome.” Jihoon said drily. “I’ll meet this person and I will prove to you it’s not her.”

“It’s not the artist you are meeting. It’s their manager.” Dino pointed to a woman standing sitting on one of the benches with a visitors pass.”

The manager’s sat with her legs delicately crossed, occupying as little space as she could with her blonde hair pulled up in a smooth ponytail. She wore a floral print dress matched with chunky heals. Her collarbone and willowy wrists were adorned with expensive jewelry, above a face coated in thick trendy makeup.

Still pointing at her, Dino’s hand lowered slightly, smiling awkwardly.

“Oh, yeah.” Jihoon chortled. “Aliee’s manager for sure.”

“I am sure this artist is Aliee.” Dino protested. “And that has to be her manager!”

“I repeat; dead girls can’t paint. And even if Aliee was magically alive, there is no way she would even associate herself with that sorority girl. Get your head out of your , Dino.”

Jihoon straightened his jacket and walked over the woman as Dino went back to the office while shortly mumbling curt phrases he wouldn’t dare say to his boss’s face.

He politely extended his hand to his client. “Hello, I’m Jihoon Lee, the in-house composer here at the Metropolitan.”

She looked up, her eyes a violent shade of blue. She stood up, “Tell me, what do you hear?”

“E-excuse me?”

The manager held a bag in front of her with both hands. Her long pink nails tapped the white leather handle. “Precisely, what I said; What do you hear?”

Jihoon put his un-shaken hand back in his pocket. “I hear the music I composed.”

“The artist doesn’t like it.” She said. “Change it.”

Jihoon blinked. His eyebrow twitched. “I can’t change it. It is set.”
“I am telling you to set another one.”

“Ma’am. My day job is my day job. If you want to take up more of my time complaining, I suggest you contact me during my freelance hours.” His hand slid in his pocket and fiddled with the token he received from his last anger management meeting.

“I am not paying for your more of your time. You will make me a new one.”

Jihoon didn’t know if he could laugh or yell. “What about the song is unsatisfactory?”

“It sounds too sad.”

This time he really did laugh, “Have you seen your artist’s pieces? They consistently use black and some of the scenes are just… horrible.”

The woman looked around. The paintings were scenes in flashes of black in red. Most were images of figures, flooded with symbolism of death. A simple painting of a bus stop, with the added on symbolism led the viewer to assume the figure was a second away from suicide. The pieces, though advanced and intellectually stimulating, were outright depressing.

The manager made her way to a piece, shouldering a visitor out of her way in the process. “You mean one like this? What about it tells you it’s a sad scene?”

Jihoon understood the fan-cult around these paintings, with the abstract figures and and multilayered meanings.

“The figures are black. Critics say it’s a symbolic representative of erasure.” Jihoon’s dull tone gave away that he was just repeating what he heard Dino say.

“Critics? You base your music off of critics? How did you get this job if you can not deduce the pieces for yourself?” The woman crossed her arms.

I can see why she made this woman as her manager. Aliee would have liked her, he thought. Instantaneously, he could’ve slapped himself.

Alright. Fine. Perhaps Jihoon indulged into the occasionally fantasy that she was alive.

Maybe Chan’s stupid whimsy had gotten into his head. However, the nights he was jolted awake in cold sweat after dreaming up Aliee’s murder were too frequent for him to actually believe she was still flesh and bone.

Jihoon had tried dating. Hoshi and Coups had set him up with countless girls but nothing stuck. No one compared. Like tasting a fine wine, once someone has experienced the extravagant taste, they can no longer resort back buying the cheap wines.

Aliee had been that wine. She was completely ed up, he knew. But damn, he was just the same. They understood each other had went through scarily similar situations. He didn’t grasp how rare the connection with her was until he failed to recreate it with another.

Every girl was the same. They all found his cold exterior attractive but only because he would make a good protector. Jihoon didn’t need a girl to protect, he just wanted an equal.

“You sound very much like someone I knew a long time ago.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

The manager’s eyes widened and Jihoon could’ve punched a wall at his stupidity. Her sleek blonde hair and bright blue eyes was nothing like Aliee’s brown frizzy hair and pitch black eyes.

Still, he couldn’t help his thoughts, she might be Aliee’s manager.

“If that someone was your whiny ex-girlfriend, please spare me the tears.”

The woman’s phone ran and she had the audacity to pick it up.

Jihoon watched with a clenched fist as the woman, his client, drawled a greeting to the person on her phone in the middle of meeting with him, in a public art gallery. He checked his watch, breathing through his teeth.

She had the nerve to pick up, and it angered him. Yet, it kind of turned him on.

“Yes, I am with him, now. No. He is refusing to compromise. Yes. Understood.”

She hung up and turned to him, “That was my artist. They will have to pull her work if you refuse.”

He stilled. A loss of an exhibition, no matter how small, would be a huge blow to the reputation to the Museum. “Does your artist understand that this is the Metropolitan? Most artists would sacrifice a limb to get this kind of international coverage.”

“She as been at many of museums, and she has done the same to them. She doesn’t except anything less than what she wants. Inform your boss that our crew will come Sunday to collect the pieces.”

She.

The manager her tall heals. Jihoon hissed under his breath and stopped her by saying, “Did your artist have anything in mind for the music?”

The manager pivoted on her skinny heels with a winning smile, “Perhaps one of your personal pieces?”

“This is my day job.” He said.

“You are a musician. Surely, your work isn’t limited to boring elevator music in museums.”

“I have my day job.” He said sternly. “And I have my free time. I keep them separate.”

“She wants the song, Simple.”

Jihoon’s raised one brow. “I can’t take another artist’s song without copyright.”

“It’s a good thing the song is yours.” The manager lips lifted in a sickly sweet smile, contrasting the devilish look in her eyes.

Jihoon kept a calm exterior, “I can’t say I know what you are referring to,” He said politely, crossing his arms.

“You are the composer, Woozi, aren’t you?”

Jihoon smirked, “I work at the Metropolitan. I am sure a composer of Woozi’s caliber wouldn’t have time for a 60-hour-a-week day job.”

“Drop the façade. I know you are him.”

Jihoon frowned. His fingernails were now chipping away at paint on the anger management chip in his pocket “If you have proof, then by all means, dazzle me.”

“I do,” the manager’s smiled seriously. “But I will not release my information if you use the acoustic version for this gallery.”

His expression darkened, “Are you blackmailing me?” Jihoon whispered.

“Whatever fits, sweetie,” The manager shrugged. “My artist wants the song.”

“How did you get this information? From your artist?” Jihoon said, squaring her up.

“Yes,” The manager said, waving her hand unimportantly. “She expects the acoustic version of Simple in this gallery by this Friday.” She looked at her watch. “Excuse me, I need to meet the curator. The staff here can’t seem to read any of the instructions she sent.”

“Your artist,” Jihoon stepped in front of her before she could walk away, “How did she know?”

The manager pursed her lips and adjusted her baby pink purse , “I am afraid she doesn’t tell me how. She just knew.”

“What is the name of your artist?’ Jihoon’s hands were sweating.

“That is confidential,” The manager said, giving him a disapproving look. “Surely you know, any artist under the name Anonymous likes to remain so: annonymous. She doesn’t like the spotlight.” The manager smiled a bit, and side stepped the composer, “I’m sure the composer, Woozi, could relate.”

“Can I contact her somehow?” Jihoon said, stepping in front of her again. “F-for the music, of course.”

“She goes through me. For any problems or concerns you can talk to me about it and I will relay the information.” The manager said stiffly, trying to step out of the way but again Jihoon followed. She pushed her eyeglasses up on her nose and sighed, “Mr. Lee, please. I do have a meeting.”

“Consider it a personal favor,” Jihoon said, anxiousness washing over him. “I think I know her.”

“She certainly knows you. The way she talks about you,” she hissed under her breath, smiling a bit. “I thought you were related.”

“Please,” Jihoon no longer cared if his colleague heard the desperate tone, so unfitting for the composer’s reputation. “Give me her contact.”

“I will inform her of your interest. But if she hasn’t reached out by this point, I doubt she will now.” The manager nodded with a strained smile. “I will be here on Friday to hear the new accompaniment.” Her tone told him the conversation was over with.

She walked away. Jihoon’s heavy legs grounded him to the spot. He looked at the paintings with wide eyes.

Was it possible that this artist was Aliee? She was the only possible person who knew of his old nickname. He was sure no one else like Dokeym or Soonyoung would such a thing slip.

Dino approached his boss, clipboard in hand, “Sir, let’s back to the office. The piece for the new Egyptian exhibit has to be submitted by tomorrow.”

Dino’s attention went down to his feet and he bent down to pick up a nametag on the ground, “Did that manager forget this?”

Jihoon’s mind clicked back into gear, “She must’ve dropped it. I’ll take care of it. Go back to my office and clean.”

The producer wanted a chance to talk to the manager outside of the gallery. If they were in a more casual setting perhaps he could convincer her reveal her artist. If that failed, he was considering following her back to where the artist lived.

Dino split ways and Jihoon made his way to the front desk of the Museum, “Where did the manager of the Anonymous artist go? I want to return this to her personally.”

The woman behind the desk looked at the ID, “She turned in her day pass already. I saw her go into the rest room, right over there” The woman handed the ID back to Jihoon, “She should be out in a minute, Mr. Lee.”

Jihoon waited by the woman’s restroom with the ID in hand, but the manager never came out. He waited and waited. It had been a half an hour but no blonde in a floral dress exited that restroom.

Jihoon was getting impatient and it must have been obvious on his face, for the woman behind the desk kept mouthing apologizes of, “I swear she went in there.”

A woman approached the desk in the middle of the receptionist’s sentence. “I left an ID here.” She said.

Jihoon looked up at the woman. No wonder he had not recognized the manager; her hair was tucked into a baseball cap and she had on a change of clothes.

Jihoon approached the desk and coolly slid the ID across the counter to the manager before the receptionist could answer.

The woman’s fingers went for the ID, and as he watched her hand grab it, his eyes caught the name under the picture of the laminated plastic.

Emily Aliee Lee

He looked up.

Her dark frizzy brown hair was fighting against her baseball cap. Her chocolate skin was clean of any makeup. Her eyes were the same entrancing shade of mousse as he remembered.

Jihoon didn’t glance at the bag she was holding; in which contained a blonde wig, blue contact lenses, and makeup foundation- seven shades too light for her naturally bronzed skin.

Her heavy makeup that so artfully disguised her had been wiped off and only now did he see recognize her.

Her eyes widened as his mouth dropped. She snatched the ID from him. She turned and her big boots stomped a few steps before Jihoon strode after her, “Aliee!” he yelled.

She turned around. His yell had echoed in the tall ceiling museum and everyone was looking at her His heart dropped down into his feet as his stomach lurched up to his throat. “T-the m-manager.” He croaked.

“It’s easier to make suggestions when people don’t know they are talking to the artist,” He didn’t know she had been disguising her voice until he heard the familiar sweet sound of her deep gravely voice.

She kept glancing around to the people staring at her, looking uncomfortable

“Y-you were d-dead,” Jihoon breathed.

“Faking your death isn’t hard,” She said, “You actually thought I died? I’m disappointed, I thought you of all people would’ve known better.” She raised a brow, “You d-didn’t think all these years I was dead, did you?”

He wanted to scream, shake her and punch her in the throat but all he could do was choke, “But your b-body-! The c-car-!”

She rolled her eyes, acting as if he was the one exaggerating this conversation. “I was running and their vehicle ran me off the road. There was a shootout, and I won. After one was shot, the rest of them ran and I got a taxi to the airport.”

“You shot someone.” His voice was struggling to be a whisper.

At this she looked uncomfortable, “It was years ago. If I hadn’t she would’ve killed me. Kill or be killed. I’m not proud of it, but I had to do what needed to be done to live.”

Jihoon opened and closed his mouth, air only escaping.

“I see you around, ponytail.” She winked at him.

She walked away and out of the front doors of the Metropolitan. He watched, as if in slow motion, as the sunlight hit her golden face. Jihoon’s lip curled in a slight smile.

“Sir, I can’t find the broom-” Dino ran up to him, slightly breathless. He halted noticing the strange expression on his boss’s face. The only time Dino had seen Jihoon crack a grin was outside of the workplace “Did something happen?”

Jihoon forced Dino into a hug. Dino gasped. Jihoon’s coworkers all stopped to stare with dropped jaws. The infamous Jihoon was hugging his assistant.

“Woozi, uhh, I mean- Jihoon! Jihoon” Dino whispered quickly, trying to scramble from the grasp. “Your co-workers are watching.”

Jihoon squeezed him tighter, and pulled him away only to plant a wet kiss on his cheek with a look nothing short of euphoric.

Dino’s clipboards dropped from his stiff hands. In a gasp, the receptionist behind them, snorted coffee out her nose. Dino wiped the slobber from his red cheeks with a look of great concern.

“You were right Dino!” Jihoon said in a half yell, half whisper.

“W-what was I right about?” Blushing, Dino ripped himself from his boss’s loving embrace.

“Look,” Jihoon pointed out of the window just next to the building’s entrance.

It only took a second for Dino to overlook the slight wrinkles around the woman’s mouth to recognize her, “I don’t-,” He started. But then he saw those eyes, the slight tip of her nose. Most importantly he recognized that resting face. “Don’t tell me!” Dino hit Jihoon’s chest, mouth agape. It had been years but he could never forget that face.

Jihoon pushed Dino forward. And that was all the momentum Dino needed to sprint out of the building.

Jihoon watched as Dino plowed Aliee down in a hug. She pulled a hand back to hit him instinctively but then she saw the boy she had once known had become a man. The artist grasped his face, squishing his cheeks. Dino crushed her in a hug. She looked over Dino’s shoulder to Jihoon. Even through the glass, she gave him goosebumps. The way she smiled, my god.

Dino jumped, and yelled like a child even though he was a head taller than her.

Jihoon turned around to the receptionist, “ it.” He said. She, along with the rest of the staff at the Metropolitan, had never seen the composer smile, nonetheless beam. He handed her his ID. “I’m taking the rest of the day off, and so is my assistant.”

“But sir!” She protested, “You just got off of lunch break.”

“Like I said,” Jihoon slid his jacked off and tossed it to her. She caught it just a second after he slammed his dress shoes on the counter. “ it.

Jihoon ran out to meet the two embracing, Dino was screaming into her overalls as she swayed side to side, holding Dino. She looked up through her frizzy black hair.

“What the , what the . It’s you! It’s really you!” Dino exclaimed.

“Yes, it’s me,” She said. “Dino, you’ve grown. You barely were taller than my shoulders the last I saw.” She looked up at him, he towered over her.

“And we were roommates last I remember,” Jihoon said behind her. She turned to look at him. “Did you expect to keep the manager act up for long?”

“I knew it!” Dino yelled at Jihoon. “Ha! I’ve been telling you this whole time!”

Jihoon had to speak through Dino’s height. It seems like Jihoon, Aliee had not grown either.

She tried to let go but Dino clung to her torso. Now a grown man, Dino still remembered the mentor who led him into his love of art.

“You’ve noticed me a few times, from afar. But you never reconized me,” Aliee said, poking her eyes over Dino’s wide shoulders. “I wanted to speak to you up close.”

Jihoon thought back. He didn’t remember it, but perhaps he had seen her around but it this was New York. Individuality was lost in the crowd here. “Why not introduce yourself, then?”

“Dino,” Jihoon pulled his assistant by the collar, “Go inside and get our jackets.” Dino looked hesitantly before resigning at the sight of Jihoon’s glare. “And take your time.”

Dino took one step inside of the Metropolitan and the staff surged to him, assaulting him with questions.

“You were saying?” Jihoon waved his hand.

“I did introduce myself to you,” Alee said. “Emily is my third identity. She has been been going on since I left.”

“I don’t like Emily very much,” Jihoon pulled her bag open with a finger and looking at the wig inside. “What were you going for? Legally Blonde?”

“More of a sorority girl meets librarian.”

“I think Aliee is more of my style.”

He scanned her. Aliee was wearing all black outfit that peaked out from her white overalls splashed of forest green paint. She had certainly grown, her hips were wider and her already thick thighs had gotten even meatier since college. Only now, her hefty thighs were more muscle than fatty mass. Her black hair, fighting against a red baseball cap straggled down to her toned shoulders.

She looked like a hot mess; Jihoon’s emphasis on hot.

Her eyebrows raised as he not so subtly scanned her, she put her hands in her big overall pockets. “Watch it mister, you have a girlfriend.”

“That’s news to me,” Jihoon broke from the trance, lips curling.

“Wednesday.” She frowned. “You went out with a girl on Wednesday this week.”

“You have been ing following me,” Jihoon said teasingly, stepping closer. “Couldn’t stay away?”

“I was trying to find a way to approach you. But after I saw the girl, I thought I would leave you alone.” Her heavy black boots stepped back. “That’s why I came as Emily today.”
“Was this person perhaps wearing red converse and had long blonde hair?”

“Yes.”

“Jeonghan.”

“What?”

“That was Jeonghan.”

She struggled to control her smile, “Oh. He was wearing makeup.”

“He is model, believe it or not.”

“I do,” She said simply, rocking on the balls of her feet. “He is very handsome.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

She laughed. For a second, those fifteen years dissolved away. For all he knew, they could’ve been back at that old apartment, laughing at DK while he struggled to keep Hoshi away from the ingredients for dinner that night.

But she was so beautiful, and her smile outshined any advertisement in New Times Square.

“What happened to the ponytail, ponytail?”

“Wasn’t really my style.”

“Neither the bleached hair?”

“Black is simpler.”

“Ah, I miss simple.” Her lips quivered upwards with knowing eyes.

He too struggled to control a smile.

“I hear that song on the radio sometimes. It was good to know the rest of the world could hear it.”

“Just be glad I could remember it after you stole the music sheets.”

She punched him in the arm. It kinda hurt, “Ah, you talk like you are a million bucks.”

“You insult me. I own more than that.”

“And there it is,” she sang. “The pride of a mountain.”

He strangled the smile into a blank expression, “Can I kiss you?”

“No.”

“I promised you I would get your permission. If you are hoping I will spontaneously kiss you, you are mistaken.”

“I am not hoping anything. We are in public.”

“Then, let’s pretend that we are going out to lunch right now. And let’s say I drop you off at your place. If all that happened…,” Jihoon rocked on the balls of his feet. “Then what?”

“Lunch? Its been a while,” she said, “We hardly know each other anymore.”

“Then, lets catch up. I can tell you all about how much of a disappointment the Metropolitan is and you can complain about the stuck up New York artists you have to put up with. It will be a blast.”

“I don’t know,” she said, “I have to finish a piece.”

The laugh died in Jihoon’s throat, “Whatcha say, You, me and Dino. Lunch?” She looked hesitant. “Hey, you only live once,” he added. “And from what I thought these fifteen years, I thought you had already lived your once.”

Jihoon got out his wallet, “I’ll pay.”

Her eyes locked on the familiar pednant hanging off of his waller. She thought of the music sheets to ‘Simple’, framed and hanging in her studio.

“I guess, but I am only doing it for Dino” She got out her phone and pretended to check her messages to avoid his gaze. “But since this is all theoretical, let’s just say, theoretically after lunch, perhaps I invite you up inside my apartment. Would a sleepover sound good, for ol’ roommate-times sake?”

“ yeah,” Jihoon put his hands on her hips and puled her close.

Dino came running out with a beaming smile and waving Jihoon’s coat like it was a flag.

“Where are we going?” Dino said ecstatically, practically vibrating with excitement.

He reached over to grab her her hand but she pulled it away and jabbed the heel of her palm into the temple of his forehead. He staggered back in a disoriented state as her hands reached down his pants.

“WOAH!” he yelled. Wow, she really couldn’t even wait that long until they reached her apartment?

She withdrew her hand, holding the box of cigarettes he hid in the waistband of his underwear.

She threw it with a strong arm. The package flew into the midst of heavy New York traffic. He caught a glimpse of the pack before it was plowed down by a car.

“You will never smoke another cigarette again, you hear me?” She pointed a firm finger in his face.

“And why is that?”

“Because I am sticking around for a while.”

She took Dino’s hand. Dino smiled like the little kid she had once known. “Lunch, eh?” She said.

The three of them walked. Dino talked their ears off about paints and raved about the his artists. Jihoon walked with a swagger, not able to take his eyes off of her as she occasionally shot him a judging look off of what Dino was saying.

Aliee would never scream and run into Jihoon’s arms but with her, walking by his side, making sarcastic comments and secretly indulging in the unspoken conversation as she slipped her fingers into his - it was her version of that.

It was as if they had never parted.