Mission accomplished at 1.25 a.m. At last. I stretched and yawned, finally willing to give in to the fatigue that has been taking its toll on me.

I kept my laptop and headed to the bedroom. I was expecting to see four of my roommates sleeping, but there was only one bed occupied. Without a doubt, Yunho and Yoochun must be serenading the street on their posh coupé. I walked away from the bedroom towards the dimly lit living room, only to find a figure sitting right in front of the TV. That would definitely be Junsu, catching up on the soccer matches that he’d missed. In the room slept a heavily drugged Jaejoong, resting serenely on his bed. In fact, it’s unusual for Jaejoong to be asleep at this hour; he would never miss any joyride, drinks, or TV shows. I guess this time he’s really down with flu.

I leaped to my bed, positioned right underneath the air conditioner. I hastily hid myself in my comforter and tossed around to find the most comfortable position to hibernate.

In case you are wondering about me, or the other four people I have mentioned earlier; Google ‘TVXQ’ or ‘DBSK’ and you will get the answers to your questions. I don’t mean to boast but apparently, the Netizens understands us better than we do. For example, they have got a complete bio data of yours truly: my name - Shim Chang Min and my D.O.B - the 18th of February, 1988; my height - 186 centimeters and my weigh - 61 kilograms; my blood type – B, and my interests - food, music, sports, and books; Bingo, they’ve got it all correct. My four-one-one is easily accessible, thanks to our company, SM Entertainment, that went all out to publicize our group, Dong Bang Shin Ki. My career as a singer started at the age of sixteen, when I debuted with the other four TVXQ members of the similar age range.

In case you’re lazy to Google us, I don’t mind sharing a little about our group. Just a brief introduction though. Yunho, widely known as U-know, is our Dancing Machine leader whom eats ’s food but refuses to share his with others. Subsequently, Xiah Junsu, the ‘sculpture-handsome’ one, is our self-acclaimed charismatic tenor. Our bass singer, ‘Dandy Boy’ Micky Yoochun, never fails to drives the fans to go wild with his…dandy-ness. And of course, TVXQ will never be complete without the troublemaker Youngwoong Jaejoong, whom has an eternal craving for attention from his fans.



‘Chang Min-nie ah, are you asleep?’



I pushed away the comforter from my face, only to find a groggy, sleep-talking Jaejoong lying next to me. FYI, all our beds are arranged side by side.

‘Hyung! You’re too close to me!’ I lightly pushed Jaejoong away, whom was looking like a California Roll in his thick comforters. ‘We do not need another sick person for tomorrow’s concert.’ How stupid of me to respond to him, knowing that he wouldn't understand a single thing I'm saying. I turned away from him and shut my eyes.

Despite the sniffing and nose-blowing next to me, I managed to get forty winks. As five minutes passed by and I felt myself slowly falling into deep sleep, my cellphone rang.


I reached underneath my pillow.


‘Hello?’

There was no immediate response. For a moment, I thought it was another prank call from the fans. Unexpectedly, on the verge of shutting my phone, a sweet voice emerged at the other end of the line.


‘Oppa, it’s me…’


My slight irritation disappeared into thin air upon hearing the sound of her voice. Yet, I was too exhausted to talk, yet alone to listen.

‘Still awake?’ I replied, attempting to hide my weariness.

I heard distinct sniffs and a shaky voice replied.

‘Oppa, I…’
‘Mmm…?’
‘I’m sorry. I can’t follow you back tomorrow.’
‘Mmm…’
‘Let’s not meet up anymore.’


Whether the conversation was reverie or reality, I can’t be sure. She hung up without another word. I threw my cellphone aside, unable to fight against the weariness that has been haunting me these few days.

 

I punched the redial button again, getting nothing but the same response I got on my earlier attempts. It’s unusual for her to deactivate her cellphone at this hour, but I couldn’t get the dream I had last night out of my mind.

‘What on earth are you doing?!’

I turned behind, facing a very irritated looking TVXQ manager. I quickly kept my cellphone and took a few steps away from him, preparing myself to avoid his ever so infamous saliva shower.

‘Uhh…nothing?’ I faked out a chuckle.

Instantaneously, Patrick, our manager, flung his arm on my shoulder and led me into our resting room. As we walked across the spacious room, he never ceased showering saliva, not at me, but at the staff around, ordering them to finish their job.

‘You are late, Chang Min. This is so unusual of you,’ Patrick said, as three female staff joined us on the way. ‘The rest have already changed.’ I gave an awkward smile and apologized.

I could see Yunho and Junsu coming out from the cubicles as I approached the changing rooms. More female staff surrounded them, touching, I mean adjusting their costumes and fixing their accessories.

‘Err…just leave the stuff there,’ I said to my helpers, as I see no necessity in arranging my costumes on the table; I’m gonna wear them anyway. The three staffs giggled and stepped back, exchanging glances and whispers amongst themselves. Well, I don’t mind the company recruiting our fans as volunteers, as long as they behave themselves. In a second, Patrick left; he must have finally realized that his walkie-talkie was ringing.

I gave signal to the three female staff stand guard as I walked towards a corner while scrutinizing the room, my hand in my pocket, ready to call her again. The SM team is scattered around, busy preparing for the concert. A few feet away, Junsu and Jaejoong were warming up their voices while Yunho was doing some streaching exercises. Yoochun was no where to be seen; he must be admiring his own reflection in his cubicle.

I looked out for Patrick, taking out my cellphone when he’s clearly out of sight. A janitor entered to the empty cubicle next to me with a vacuum cleaner, looking ready to clean up the unused cubicles next to the spot I’m standing.

After randomly screening the room once more, I punched the redial button.

The distinct sound of the vacuum cleaner could be heard, a clear indication of the janitor getting down to her business.

‘Tooooooooot…toooooooooooooot…’

When I finally managed to get her on the line, the sound of the vacuum cleaner started to get louder.

‘Hello?’
‘Hey, it’s me… Did you call?’

The sound of the vacuum cleaner was getting from deafening to ear-splitting. I could barely hear myself talking.

‘Why-broom-Oppa-I-can’t-brooom-sorry-brooooom-’

The line dropped. I tried redialing, but failed to get her on the line. I know the line wasn’t cut off due to bad reception; it’s obvious that she hung up on me; and I need to know why.

The annoying noise finally stopped when I stopped redialing. Nevertheless, I'm not going to stop right here. I need to find out if anything had happened to her.



The janitor was halfway through wiping the full length mirror as I passed by the neighbouring cubicle. A thickly spectacled short schoolgirl was reflected on the mirror, her hair pulled back in a pony tail. In attempt of cleaning the top part of the mirror, she hopped; but to me she looked more like she was swimming in her XL-sized SM Staff shirt with an apron on top and worn-out jeans.

Her attention diverted to me as she realized my presence. She turned around to face me, and our eyes met for a few seconds. I then gave a swift smile, looked away and went into the next cubicle. Gazing at my own reflection I thanked my parents; I wouldn’t be born so good-looking if it weren’t for their genes, or their ancestors’.



I pulled off my top and started rummaging through the costumes hung on the door. When I said 'just leave the stuff there' I didn't mean 'just simply hang it there'. It took me quite some time to find my top, thanks to my ever so helpful helpers. Finally, when I turned to face the mirror again, the door to my cubicle opened, behind it stood the short girl.



For a moment I was surprised; but the short girl seemed even more
stunned.


‘Hey!’ She shouted, breaking the brief silence. ‘why…why are you in here?’

I paused to churn out a witty answer but I guess it wasn’t necessary; she was already stammering.

‘Of course I’m changing, this is a changing room isn’t it?’
‘Why didn’t you lock the door?’


I smirked, noticing the quaver in her voice and the blood that’s rushing upwards to her cheeks. I walked towards the door, and she took a step back every time I took a step forward. Finally, when she stood far enough out of my cubicle, I smirked again, shutting the door.


For a minute, I realized how crude I reacted towards that stranger and what a lousy impression she would have of me. All these because of a faulty door lock. I took a deep breath, reassuring myself that I won’t see her ever again, I put on my coat, feeling totally pumped and hyped for our big day, until I felt an excruciating pain on my abdomen.


Oh no. Not again?


 

(A/N : Am i being naggy? Sry 'bout that )