The camera flashes are blinding as always, but they’ve lost their overwhelming effect. Jongin thinks it’s because he’s almost always under the too-bright studio lights anyway. And instead of fear, he only feels a buzz of excitement coursing through his veins. Designer events are interesting, but if he were to be honest, rather than being stuck in between meaningless conversations, he’d rather be in bed, cuddling with someone who’ll keep on forcing him to watch old movies he doesn’t even understand.

 

He still isn’t used to the this kind of limelight. The studios and runways, he’s very familiar with. But the interviews and the paparazzis still bother him. It was a lot easier getting used to the actual modelling than the unfortunate things that came with it. And of course, yearly kickstart events are always jampacked. Interviews are some things he always wants to avoid. Especially the informal ones by some paparazzis who don’t really care about his work and are only talking to him to dig-up some dirt. But alas, this is one event he cannot pass off. He’s the face of this label’s 2015 campaign after all. So instead of sulking at the loss of supposed cuddle time, he puts on his best passive smile and carries on with the small talk.

 

It’s been a year since he was first discovered when he walked the runway at the 2014 Seoul Fashion week. He was 20 then, and he had no idea that a gig like that would give him a career that is envied by many aspiring models. The opportunity came out of nowhere. Taemin was supposed to walk the runway that night, but due to his insistence on doing a particularly tricky turn, he injured himself, a severe sprain that he couldn’t simply shake-off. Taemin had tried looking for replacements, because he knew that this was not something Jongin would simply agree with. But after about 25 calls, he came down as the only person that had almost the exact measurements as Taemin. He only agreed because he wanted to finally pay back the favor that Taemin only uses against him.

 

The designer, Taemin’s high school sunbae, was given the chance to debut his line during the Seoul Fashion Week. It was only a day’s notice, but Taemin assured him that Kibum would tell him exactly what to do. Taemin, luckily, was only assigned to two outfits. So he didn’t really had to worry a lot. But he never thought that the minute he spent on the runway would earn him offers left and right.

 

Immediately after the show, he received a couple invites from known labels and budding designers. And soon enough, he became the talk of the town. His shy aura was packaged as mysterious, and people were immediately enamoured. From Seoul to Milan, Milan to New York, New York to Paris, and Paris to London, he made his way, carving a name for himself.

 

Kai. His mother suggested Kai, because it meant ‘to open’ in Chinese. And it suited the situation well. He’s opening a new chapter in his life, a new era even. And it was memorable, and that’s what he needed to be in a business wherein faces blur into each other.

 

Choosing to pursue modelling had not been an easy decision, he was initially set to continue his schooling in Seoul. His first year as a dance major at a local college was pretty much uneventful, but he had received a call from the dance department of the top university that he auditioned at the year before. They were asking if he wanted to take the spot left by a student who transferred out. It took him an entire week to decide that he would take his chance, accept the modelling offers, and travel the world.

 

He decided to try living in London a year ago. He’d been everywhere, and one of his seniors told him that he should at least have a home. Somewhere he’ll look forward living in, because really, hotel rooms are too impersonal and are only good for room service. He didn’t have to think for too long, because he already favored London. There was something about the country that enticed him, but it was something else that made him stay.

 

“What do you think, Kai?”

 

His train of thought breaks, and he’s suddenly thrown into a conversation he wasn’t even paying attention to. He tries to feel out the situation - something he’s gotten use to doing because he almost always gets lost in his own thoughts to care about these talks that don’t really concern him or pique his interest.

 

“I think it’s good,” he says, pausing to gauge the reaction of the people, models and designers, around him. They all nod, and he knows that’s his cue to leave.

 

“I’ll go ahead everyone, enjoy your evening,” he says as he walks away from the group consisting of people he’s only acquaintances with. He realizes that most of his model friends weren’t even present at the said event. Even the designers he prefered working with were absent, and that only encourages him to take his leave.

 

He spots the owner of the label in the crowd, walking away from a conversation that had seemed to just ended.

 

“Kim Kai, our star, are you enjoying?” the designer says, looking slightly buzzed and tipsy. The flute on his hand empty, reeking of something a lot stronger than champagne.

 

He feigns sickness, coughs for good measure, hoping it’ll be a good enough excuse to get out of the dragging party, “I’m not feeling so well, I think I should head home.”

 

Carl only nods, patting him on the back and adding a rest well. He sighs, thankful that getting out of the party had been really easy. The people seem to be a lot more drunk than they usually are. He thinks it’s because hard drinks are being served apart from the usual wine and champagne. He wouldn’t know how strong the said drinks are though, because he didn’t want to risk getting too tipsy. He has better things to be than drunk. He has better and more important things to do.

 

It’s January 11. He glances at his watch, and it tells him that he has less than an hour left.

 

He’s been preparing for this day for quite some time. Inserting the brainstorming and shopping in between shoots and fashion shows. The first week of year has been busy so far, and his days have been passing by in a blur. He almost didn’t have enough time to prepare this elaborate surprise, and he’s thankful for his friends, despite their endless whining and bottomless stomachs, they came through.

 

He gets to the back door quickly enough, and the valet recognizes him immediately. He looks around and sees that his car is conveniently parked by the door. He thanks the man with a hefty tip. He didn’t have much time to waste, so he takes off as soon as he gets in the car. So far so good, no paparazzis in sight.

 

Kim Jongin is not a romantic. He’s anything but actually. And yet there he is, fidgeting as he crosses the not-too-long distance from the restaurant and the university. He’s never done anything like this, and he just hopes Sehun and Jongdae were right. And that things go well, because he’s seriously going to be upset when they don’t.

 

He drives without much thought, his nerves doing well in zoning him out. He gets there in about 20 minutes, a lot faster than he anticipated. He enters through the back gate, because he obviously doesn’t want catch people’s attentions. They’ve been careful so far, and he doesn’t want to put all their efforts to waste. He takes off his coat and trades it for his hoodie, to blend in and to fend off the cold.

 

He smiles at the scent that fills his car, it’s comforting and familiar. And it reminds him of the fact that he’s not alone anymore. That there’s someone he can run to, someone who feels like home.

 

It’s already 11:58 according to the clock on his dashboard. He grabs his phone from his bag, pressing the all-too-familiar name on top of his contacts list.

 

“Jongin?”

 

He smiles fondly at the other’s voice, riddled with bits of sleep. It’s melodic and very much endearing, and he feels his insides flutter.

 

“Hyung, look out your window.”

 

He hears no protests, only the rustle of bedsheets and the shuffling of feet. He takes this as his cue to get out of his car, bouquet in hand.

 

“Jongin, what are you doing here? What the hell is that for?”

 

He would be offended at the lack of a warm welcome, but he just smiles and holds the bouquet out. Like him, the boy is not fond of romance. Their feelings are not shown through blatant affection. They prefer the silent companionship and understanding over the grand romantic gestures. They’ve seen very little of each other the past few month, and honestly his schedule is jam-packed, but he’s pretty sure his hyung is a lot busier. Busy enough to forget his own birthday.

 

“Happy birthday, Kyungsoo hyung!”

 

His theory is proven right because Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, then the older boy proceeds and slaps himself once. It’s adorable to Jongin how he manages to look like middle school student when he’s already 23 years old.

 

“I- Let me just dress-up, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

 

He simply nods, Kyungsoo can take as much time as he wants. Jongin wouldn’t be tired of waiting. But Kyungsoo emerges quickly enough, and the sheepish smile on his faces tells Jongin that he’s feeling a bit lost.

 

“I can’t believe I forgot my own birthday…” he hears Kyungsoo mutter under his breath.

 

He closes the distance between them, only stopping when he’s only a few inches away, “It’s okay, hyung. You’ve been really busy this year, and that’s what I’m here for.”

 

A cryptic smile appears on the older’s face, one that’s a mix of anticipation and exhaustion, “I think I’ll start forgetting every year to be honest.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs deeply, and that makes his heart clench. The moonlight illuminates Kyungsoo’s beauty, but it also puts into light the stress and worries etched on the older boy’s face. He truly wishes he could erase them all, but how can he do that when he’s almost in the same state?

 

“Then I’ll remind you every year.” he says, hoping to ease some of the tension hanging between them. Tension that started building due to their schedules which left them with little to no time for each other. It’s frustrating how the world seems to be bent on keeping them apart, but Jongin’s now trying so hard to fight back.

 

“When did you start getting this sappy?” the older boy’s tone is teasing, but what gets to him is the underlying tones of affection.

 

“Ever since I fell for you?” he tries, making Kyungsoo laugh and lean into his arms.

 

It’s moments like this makes him forget that he has a shoot at 7 in the morning, and that Kyungsoo probably still has a lot of editing to do. That they can possibly get caught and photographed. Because in this very moment, their relationship feels normal. It’s feels too easy. That they can simply be together, without any responsibilities.

 

“Hyung?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Let’s go, I have a surprise.”

 

He puts out his hand, and Kyungsoo takes it, slotting their fingers together. And he blushes, his heart still fluttering despite the numerous times they’ve held each other’s hands. Because it just feels so right, like they were made for each other. That thought makes him pause, because Kyungsoo’s right, when did he get this sappy?

 

He puts his hood up as they walk across the campus. Through his peripheral vision, he sees Kyungsoo giving him questioning glances. It took a lot of calls to several different connections to make this possible. It was also quite difficult to keep his plans off the grid, using his friends as point persons to hide his tracks. He knows how fast rumors fly, and he’s not even overreacting. Because he’s witnessed high profile relationships revealed over very tiny, trivial things. And although he’s not as famous as the people involved, he doesn’t want Kyungsoo to be into the limelight when he doesn’t even need to be. The industry he works in is full of bad people, and he doesn’t want Kyungsoo to be part of it.

 

Their hands are still swaying ever so slightly between them, and when he stops walking, they still don’t let go.

 

“Jongin, what are we doing here?”

 

He watches as Kyungsoo’s expressions transition from confused to overwhelmed. They’re standing in front of the back gates of university’s open field, and Kyungsoo might have just completed the puzzle.

 

Kyungsoo lets go of his hand, walking past him and pushing the gate forward. He follows closely, because he doesn’t want to miss any of the older boy’s reactions. He looks on as Kyungsoo takes in everything, the glistening of his eyes and the brightness of his smile.

 

Fairy lights are strewn around the bleachers, the only thing illuminating the entire area. A blanket fort was set up in the middle of the field, and food for two is on a small table near the entrance of the fort. A huge screen was set up, and a projector was playing Kyungsoo’s favorite movie.

 

Kyungsoo looks back at him with tears in his eyes, the happy kind, he hopes.

 

“Thank you, Jongin. Thank you.”

 

And this is what makes every single effort worth it, because Kyungsoo is happy. And he is too, very much so.