PROLOGUE: IDENTITY

There is Kai, and then there is Jongin.

Kai the 29 year old business executive, working at a topnotch company thanks to his father. Kai, who wakes up every day to Kim Junmyun under thick blankets and lingering dreams; who passes soft kisses in the doorway, briefcase in hand and a forced smile on his lips. And every day at 7am, Kai will whisper words of being home before Junmyun can even count the fleeting seconds, Junmyun will smile— a wistful kind of smile—,lean forward to steal one more kiss, and his hand will linger for a second too long; a second that holds more meaning than a normal one. Come back to me; never leave. And then it will pass like the rest, following Kai out the door.

And every day at 12pm, he will change into dingy sweats; tell his coworkers he’s going to the gym for a few hours. He’ll take the train down to Hongdae, and he will become Jongin, the 29 year old dancer, who lives in a studio apartment with his model boyfriend, Sehun, surviving off his father’s income— at least that’s what he tells Sehun.

And here, in this little apartment— equipped with the necessities and barren of the luxuries—, Jongin is happy. Because here, Jongin is not Kai, the businessman in a relationship he no longer wants, but cannot leave. He is Jongin, the dancer, who relishes in Sehun’s kisses and perfectly executed pirouettes.