Early Morning

Taemin hurried out the door, pausing only to kiss his eomma goodbye. "I've got to go to work now."

She smiled. "Have a good day and be careful!"

"I will!"

Taemin rushed out of his house, smiling. It was still early, really early. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and the mist lay low over the city. Taemin loved this time of day. He politely greeted the ajusshis and ajummas on the way to his job, and they smiled and greeted him in return. Many people in his neighborhood knew him, and knew he was working hard to save up money for university one day. They respected the young man. The women always chattered about how good of a husband he'd make, while the men nodded about how his raven hair was always neat and he was never late for work. He passed by the fruit stand and was pulled to a stop, as usual. The old couple running the stand gave him a bag and he bowed gratefully. He rarely ate breakfast, so the couple had taken it upon themselves to give him a breakfast of fresh fruit every morning. He slowed to a walk and ate the bag of fruit, smiling and greeting everyone cheerfully.

Cutting into an alleyway, his usual routine dropped to a crashing halt. Halfway down the alley, he heard footsteps. Turning around, he faced four big guys and blanched. 

"Get him."

He broke into a run, using every shortcut he could think of from his job as a delivery boy. The footsteps were always behind him though. Finally, he ducked into an abandoned building, one of his most secret shortcuts, and moved through the pitch-black hallways with practiced precision.

Taemin slowed down. He no longer heard the footsteps behind him. Leaning against a wall, he caught his breath. His eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dimness, so he waited until they did. He looked behind him, but there was no sign of the muggers. He let out a sigh before slowly working his way back the way he had come.

After a few minutes, he frowned. This was the way he had taken, he was sure of it, but it was...different now. There had been a sharp corner, but now, the hallway just seemed to stretch on. He slowed, but continued forward. After a minute, the hallway opened up into a larger space. He heard splashing and looked down, surprised to find a couple inches of water on the floor. Stopping, he looked around, his eyes widening as he realized where he was.

"The Underground..."

Mid-morning

He is known as an artist, but while other artists work merely in paint or clay, he works in cloth. He can take the most horrific clothes from anyone's closet, work his magic, and turn them into something incredible. His name is in the art section of the papers regularly, usually preceding some ungodly rush to the nearest designer clothing store by hundreds of young men and women. Like any true artist, though, no one would recognize him on the streets. In fact, no one has ever seen his face, with the exception of the few people lucky enough to work side-by-side with him. No one even knows his full name. He is known only as

Key.

Key burst out laughing in the back of the car. DaeHyun, his personal assistant, blinked at him. 

"Have you READ this? I wasn't aware the paper was hiring from the liberal arts grads now." DaeHyun rolled his eyes. "Seriously! What is this fluff?" He took on a haughty, mysterious voice. "Known only as," Pause. "Key." He started laughing again, and DaeHyun chuckled. Key scanned the rest of the article, laughing in places, and even causing the usually unflappable DaeHyun to laugh out loud as Key parodied parts from the article. When he finished with the article he leaned forward. 

"MiYoung, drop me off at the next block please." MiYoung nodded. DaeHyun raised an eyebrow. "What? I'm craving a pancake from that little street vendor."

DaeHyun knew better. The next block also held Choi's, the biggest retailer of Key's designs in the city. He looked at Key. "Would you like me to come with you, hyung?"

Key smiled and shook his head as the car pulled to a stop. "That's ok. I'll be back later, ok?"

DaeHyun nodded. "Your schedule is clear until tonight's meeting at 1500."

Key nodded and waved. "Back soon." He shut the door and watched as MiYoung quite smoothly, and quite literally, forced her way back into traffic. MiYoung may have looked like she belonged on a runway, but she drove like she belonged in The Fast and the Furious. Key chuckled, then made his way to Choi's.

"Good morning, Mr. Kim." JaeSun smiled at him as he walked in. "Mr. Choi is up in the storage room, if you want to see him." He nodded and walked to the stairs.

After a productive meeting with Mr. Choi, Key walked back downstairs and opened the door, reading the copy of the sales figures Mr. Choi had handed him. He didn't notice the dimness until the door slammed behind him, making him jump. He looked up and the sales figures dropped from his hand, forgotten, as his eyes widened. He immediately turned around, even as a voice in the back of his head told him it was no use. There was no door behind him. He closed his eyes.

"No..."

Afternoon

Jinki bit into his fried chicken with gusto. He had just gotten done telling his older sister that he'd gotten the job. Starting tomorrow, he was going to be a 119 dispatcher. He was happy for another reason too. This job meant he could take his savings and put a down payment on an apartment. He knew his big sister loved him, but she and her husband had to be getting tired of him being underfoot. He finished his chicken and stood up as his cell phone rang again.

"Yoboseyo?"

It was his sister. "Jinki, where are you?"

"I'm on my way to talk to the manager about that apartment I was telling you about."

"You'll be home for dinner, right? I'm making your favorite to celebrate."

Jinki's eyes lit up. "Chicken?"

His sister laughed. "Not just any chicken. My super-special chicken, just for my dongsaeng."

At the mention of super-special chicken, Jinki's mouth watered and his already stuffed stomach seemed to find some extra room. "I'll be home as soon as I'm done looking at this apartment!"

She laughed again. "Alright. I'll see you then."

"Bye."

He hurried along the street, his mind excited by the prospect of his sister's chicken, and ducked into the apartment building. Walking to the office, he stopped short at the door.

'Down in the basement in the boiler room. First door on the right after the stairs.'

Jinki didn't think much of it and sauntered down the stairs. Opening the door of the basement, he shuddered. He never liked basements much. They creeped him out. He hurried over to the first door on the right and rushed inside. 

The door closed silently behind him and he looked around, raising an eyebrow. This didn't look like a boiler room. A hallway stretched ahead of him, and he followed it cautiously. It was decently well-lit, and he followed it for a few seconds before deciding that waiting for the manager up by his office was a much more preferable idea. He turned back to the door when suddenly, the lights died. He jumped as darkness engulfed him. There wasn't enough light to see by almost at all, and he inched sideways, looking for the wall. His eyes were slowly getting used to the darkness when he tripped and fell sideways, causing a splash.

He frowned as he pulled himself out of the very shallow water. His frustration slowly gave way to fear as he realized that there was no way he was in the apartment building anymore. He looked around as his eyes adjusted more. No walls he could see. Just shallow water.

"Uh-oh."

Evening

Jonghyun ducked through darkening alleyways without fear. The few burly guys he did see bowed to him slightly and moved out of his way. Being the leader of the toughest gang in the city gave him just a bit of leeway when it came to, well, just about anything. He hurried along, wanting to get his 'errands' done quickly. Stopping outside a door, he pulled out a key and let himself inside.

The owner of the little restaurant bowed low when he saw him. "Mr. Kim."

"Mr. Son. Good to see you're doing well. How're your children?"

Mr. Son straightened up. "Quite well thank you."

Jonghyun looked around. The restaurant was quite busy. "Things seem to be going well for business as well."

Mr. Son smiled. "Very well, thank you." He held out an envelope. "This month's payment."

Jonghyun tucked the envelope into his jacket and smiled brightly. "Always nice doing business with you, Mr. Son." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Jonghyun turned, confused. Mr. Son held out a cloth bag that held containers of food in them. "Give your little brother our regards today." At Jonghyun's look, he smiled. "It IS his birthday today, right?"

Jonghyun smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Mr. Son. I'll make sure to tell him." Glancing in the bag, he saw a red envelope with his brother's name on it. He waved to the staff as he walked out the door.

When he got outside, he handed the bag to one of the men who'd walked with him. "Carry this. And get ready. We might well get more."

He wasn't mistaken. Every business gave him some sort of present for his brother's birthday, whether it was food or otherwise, and every gift came with a red envelope. He couldn't help but smile. It made him happy that people remembered his brother's birthday.

See, Jonghyun was in the business of 'insurance', but instead of insurance that HIS gang wouldn't trash the place, his gang protected businesses willing to pay from the other gangs in the city. And they were good at what they did. While the police only knew Jonghyun as the kingka of the toughest gangs in the city, the business owners knew him as the boy with the big heart, raising his little brother all alone, protecting them, and in general being a nice kid, even though he was already 21. The business owners took it upon themselves to make sure the two of them knew how much they were appreciated. When Jongki, Jonghyun's brother, came down with a very nasty flu, the ahjummas came to their apartment, cleaned, cooked, and watched over him while Jonghyun was out. When Jonghyun was in the hospital after being shot protecting one of the businesses, they'd sent around flowers, visited him, and made sure Jongki was eating well and taken care of. It was a good arrangement for all.

Jonghyun shut the door of the apartment after unloading all the gifts from his men. He had already decorated, so he only had to set the food on the table, the presents by his brother's chair, and the money envelopes at his place on the table. He took mental note of everything, then hurried out the door for the last thing.

The alleys were dark, but he knew them well enough. He hurried. Jongki would be back soon, and he needed to beat him there. He didn't notice the trash can lid until he was already head over heels tumbling. Shaking his head, he sat up, glad no one was around to witness that. Putting his hand down, he froze. There wasn't any water in the alley way. And it was a lot darker than it should have been. He stood up slowly as realization set in.

"Oh HELL no!!"

Night

The crowd screamed and thrashed around as the last song ended. The singer leaned into the microphone. "We were Dark Falls! Have a great night!" The drunk crowd cheered as the members took off their instruments and walked off the stage. Well, KIND OF walked. 

Minho dropped himself onto the first chair he could find in their 'dressing room'. Hyungjin rolled his eyes. "Minho, just because you're sitting down the whole time doesn't mean you can take nine shots and not feel it when you stand up," he said, laughing.

Minho pointed in the general direction of the three Hyungjins he was seeing. "I'm just fine."

JaeHyuk laughed too, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Go home, dude. We have practice first thing in the morning and an interview after."

Minho managed to pull himself upright, more or less. "Yeah yeah."

It took him a good 45 minutes to make it out of the bar, but he managed. Walking down the street, he weaved too and fro, but people didn't seem to care. They just avoided him and continued on their way. To his consternation, no one seemed to recognize him.

"Well, you ARE just the drummer after all," said his logical side. People looked at him oddly, but said nothing. In his state of drunken-ness, he wasn't aware he was actually narrating the conversation.

"That doesn't mean anything. We're famous."

"In a bar. That's all."

"Bull. People outside the bar know us."

"That's right. There're those OTHER three bars you've played in."

The conversation kept up until Minho stumbled through a doorway and shut the door behind him. Weaving around, he found a flat surface and sprawled out on it.

"Are we even home?"

"Who cares?"

His long arm dangled off the side of his 'bed', and he frowned when he felt water. Standing up, his feet splashed around.

". Something broke." 

He went to sit back down, only to fall all the way to the floor. Whatever he had been sitting on wasn't there anymore. The cold finger of sobriety ran up his spine, and his mind cleared. He looked around.

"What the...? This...can't be..."