Kibum had been sitting on a vacant seat in an empty corridor when the man approached him. He didn’t really know why – he supposed, maybe, because he had nothing better to do, and he could focus on the notice board that was laden with senseless documents before him, and listen to the distant humdrum of the police station’s inner workings, instead of focussing on his reality. He hadn’t seen the holding cells yet, and had the odd curiosity to find them – he'd even stood to leave when the man had appeared – but that curiosity had somewhat dampened as time had passed.
“Ke- I mean, Mr. Kim?”   Kibum turned his head to glance up at the scrawny man before him. The man was short, even shorter than Jonghyun, and had glasses on the end of his protruding nose that only accentuated the jutting angles of his features. His lips were a taut line, but his manner appeared to be amiable, as he slid into the seat beside Kibum, despite the fact there'd been no invitation extended.   "I-I'm sorry to interrupt, I know this must be a hard time for you.”
Kibum just nodded, and returned to staring at the grey floor again, tapping his foot quietly against the tiles. He didn’t know where Minho was, and admittedly had found the corridor in a bid to distance himself from the younger, but almost pined for his presence as the man nodded, figuring out the best way to say what was on his mind.   "It's just,” the man continued, “my girlfriend is a huge fan, hah, I mean, she owns, like, all of your albums, and singles, and stuff, and-“
He stopped in his tracks as he noticed Kibum’s lack of enthusiasm, how his words seemed to only further d