As the sun strolled lazily across the azure sky, the B2ST leader named DooJoon was hidden away in his burrow of blankets and pillows.  He slept deeply and dreamlessly due to the mass quantity of alcohol he had consumed.  No nightmares had him jolting awake, no visions of the bottom of Hell roused him from his peaceful slumber.  The clocked tolled its hour silently on the wall above the three bunk beds that were stuffed into this tiny room so six boys could share a room meant for one.  DooJoon always found this room cramped but he wouldn’t trade it for another.  In this room, rest was found for the restless. 

     Silently, like the ghost DooJoon used to feel he was, Son DongWoon entered his shared bedroom.  In his hands he carried a tray laden with aspirin for the hangover he already knew was brewing in that sleeping man, and a Western styled breakfast; eggs and bacon.  After last night’s blurry, drunken confession, the youngest boy of the group had decided to give his unfailing leader a break.  He would discover what was threatening the future of B2ST and help DooJoon out of the deep hole he had fallen into.  

    Unsure of what DooJoon remembered, DongWoon thought to tread lightly in conversation until he was sure DooJoon wouldn’t shut down and act as if nothing had happened.  So, as he approached the soft snoring man, he acted as if he knew nothing.  It was better to start out easy going before leading DooJoon to realize that his secret had been revealed.  What DongWoon was unaware of, though, was the contract drop was only the tip of the iceberg.  Hidden beneath a leader’s strong gaze and unyielding resolve, there laid a broken man covered in deep, black bruises and bright, scarlet blood. 

     Lightly setting the tray on an unoccupied bed, DongWoon shakes at the eldest boy’s leg to rouse him.  The only response was a groan and a hasty shift to a different side as DooJoon ignored the call to be awoken.  The day came too quickly for him even though it was about ten o’clock.  No schedules today, no focusing today, no unnecessary consciousness today.  All the sleeping boy wanted was more sleep but no, DongWoon again shook his leg and with force this time. 

     “C’mon.  Breakfast.” 

     Another resounding groan and DooJoon pulled the blanket over his head.

     “Get up, DooJoon, before I give YoSeob your breakfast.”  A statement that made the blanket move down slightly to reveal a rather grumpy face.  His eyes were sealed shut and a frown plastered his face.  How badly he wanted to sleep but the smell of a hot breakfast lured him from his warm den.  Sitting up groggily, the older boy rubs the sleep from his eyes and sighs some as he tries to wake up.  Whipping his head around to where he smelt the food, regret and a green tinge grace his surly expression and before he can move, a trashcan is into his lap from DongWoon.  DooJoon retches up the sparse contents of his stomach, falling back into the bed after casting the trash can to the floor.  He pants and wipes at his mouth, hearing a chuckle from the other presence in the room.

     “I can see why you get pissed when JunHyung drinks so much…”  DongWoon grins as he speaks, no pity in his dark brown eyes. 

     “Yahhh…shut up.”  DooJoon slurs out, trying to keep from seeing his stomach again. 

     Another grin and chuckle as aspirin and water is handed to the boy sitting slowly upright.  With a wince he swallows the medication, grabbing his sunglasses from the floor near his bed.  Sliding them on, he opens his eyes and still he winces at the bright light.  Hangovers were a pain in the … 

     Seeing just how incapable his eldest friend was, DongWoon thought to be kind and said, “Perhaps a bedridden day for you…?” 

     “I have…ugh…leader stuff to do.”  DooJoon says softly, using DongWoon’s outstretched arm as support to stand.  Inhaling deeply, DooJoon patted his younger brother’s shoulder and strode past him at a snail’s pace, the hangover keeping his movements sluggish.

     “Whatever the leader stuff is, DooJoon, I’ll take care of it.  You’re a drunken mess!”  DongWoon offers politely, seeing that DooJoon didn’t really remember last night.  Or if he did, he was trying to play it off. 

     “I was drunk yesterday.  Today I’m hung over.  Learn, kid, learn.”  DooJoon teases gently, smiling slightly as he grabs his phone from his pocket, tapping at the screen. 

     “I don’t think you’ll be able to do much leader stuff while hung over…”  A chiding smile accompanies DongWoon’s light comment.

     “You’d be..uh…surprised.”  DooJoon answers back as he runs a hand through his hair to scratch his head, glancing up from his phone with a weak smile in return.

     “Considering what you said last night…maybe not as surprised as you’d think…”  The younger boy gives a knowing smile, trying to express that he knew at least some of DooJoon’s long kept secret.

     “What…did I say last night?”  A gentle inquiry rebounds on the walls of the room, the atmosphere getting an electric, nervous feeling.  The elder dressed in the same clothes as yesterday zips up the well-worn gray hoodie, sliding the zipper up to keep himself warm.  Right now, though, DooJoon could feel the shiver threatening to run across his frame; what had been said last night? 

     “Just some things that needed to be said…don’t worry about it.  I’ll take care of the others today and we’ll fix everything.”  DongWoon’s perpetual smile is bright now, truly meaning an offer to help.  He wanted to try and ease the burden that DooJoon bore heavily on his breaking back. 

     Quicker than lightening DooJoon’s head snapped up, his eyes gaining a steel focus as he stares at the youngest man in his leadership.  His hand fell to his side with his phone safely in his palm and he stepped closer to DongWoon, his mouth set in a firm line.

     “What did I say last night, DongWoon?” 

     “Just…let’s say you got some things off your chest that has been building up for a while.  Things you should have told someone about a long time ago.  Please, just rest today.  I’ll take care of the others.”  A placating hand reaches out to touch the battered leader’s shoulder, a smile that is reassuring if nervous spreads across a young man’s face.  These things are not enough, though.  The elder boy feels the unease rising in his stomach up to the hollow his heart once lived in.  Without knowing what had happened the night before, DooJoon felt like he had damned the five boys he had promised to protect on their rise to the top.  What could be done now? 

     As DooJoon opens his mouth to speak, his phone rings out harshly in the obstinate silence, causing both boys to jump in surprise at the shrill tone and whatever words were built up in DooJoon’s throat were cut away as he answered the phone.  He speaks in formal tones, lightly shoving DongWoon out of the room as he focused deeply on the conversation at hand.  The young man trudged out slowly, trying to catch snippets of what was being said on the phone.  However, the leader shut the door behind DongWoon and stepped away from it, speaking quietly.  Before learning of the grave secret on DooJoon’s mind, DongWoon would have thought the conversation was one with his mother or even perhaps his doctor.  Times had changed, though, and now every phone call could be the end of B2ST.  As he pressed his ear to the hard wooden door, he could only hear DooJoon’s gentle baritone mumbling out answers.  He heard a tone of sadness weave through DooJoon’s muffled responses and it sent a tremor through DongWoon’s heart.  However, he didn’t get any clear answers.  Gleaning no information, DongWoon sighs and moves to press his forehead as opposed to his ear against the door.  He felt powerless.  Was this how DooJoon always felt…?  Lost and struggling?  How could he do that…? 

     As slow-moving thoughts trailed through his blank mind, the door flew open suddenly, causing the young man to stumble forward, eyes wide.  With a sharp inhale he caught himself, staring up into his eldest brother’s confused expression.  Neither of them had expected to see the other this close and it caused DongWoon to get embarrassed, his ears turning pink.  He had been caught eaves dropping and for nothing; he hadn’t heard anything of DooJoon’s phone conversation.

     Casting aside the air of embarrassment, DongWoon let’s fly the questions that sends a shiver through his frame.

     “We’re fired, aren’t we?  The company cancelled our contracts, right?” 

     DooJoon looks at him feverishly, pulling his shades off to stare up at DongWoon, a frown set into his face.  Wrinkling his nose some as he tries, and fails, to recall the past night, DooJoon asks his own question.

     “What…what in the hell did I say to you last night?” 

     “Just…answer me, please.  Are we still B2ST or not…?”  DongWoon sighs out, rubbing his temples as fear eats up his bones.  He felt so close to the precipice of failure that it hurt.  He felt like someone was standing behind him on the ledge, ready to push him over.  Again, he wondered if this was how DooJoon felt all the time…

     “Yeah…for now.”  DooJoon growls out, finding no events from the previous night in his memory.  The alcohol had wiped it clean. 

     Sighing deeply in relief, DongWoon steps away from the precipice but not by much. 

     “Then what happened?  Tell me, please.”

     “My money didn’t transfer…  I have to go see what happened at the bank…”

     “I’m going with you then.  You can’t keep doing this on your own.”  DongWoon states clearly, already having experienced only the tiniest amount of the constant feelings of fear and being lost that controlled the B2ST leader.  He refused to let DooJoon face his trials alone anymore.  Not when he could take on the role of Atlas as DooJoon had done for each boy for years.  He would hold up the earth and make the path clear of trials.  DongWoon would shoulder a burden too large for one man to carry. 

     “I told you everything…didn’t I, DongWoon?”  DooJoon asks softly, giving a blank stare as he tries to accept his mishap. 

     “Yeah…you did…” The younger boy says even softer, turning his gaze away.  Something about that dead stare worn by the elder boy hurt worse than a punch to the face…  There was no happiness in that strong gaze.  There was no hope for the future.  There was only a sad acceptance of death. 

     “Goddammit…”  DooJoon growls out, scratching his scalp after running his hand through his unruly hair.  With a hand on his hip, he stares at the floor, mulling over his options. 

     “Let me help…let us help…”  DongWoon gestures with his hand to the living room where the other four boys laughed and smiled, ignorant to the secret conversation.  As DooJoon shook his head, anger seethed in DongWoon.  He glared with an intensity no one had ever seen from the young man.  DooJoon stared up into the sun’s glare that was DongWoon’s eyes and imperceptibly… he flinched.  That burn hurt so badly from that glare that DooJoon relented. 

     “Fine, fine…just you.  Get us something presentable to wear,” With regret in his voice, DooJoon lets help into his life.  With worry for the youngest of his group, DooJoon stands in the doorway, glancing at the clueless quadruple. 

     As DongWoon smiles and loses his angry gaze, he steps towards the shared closet, opening it up and tugging out a bright blue shirt. 

     “Make it look like we’re going to a funeral.  And don’t put it on yet.  Get a gym bag.”  DooJoon orders, his eyes focused on the smiling faces of the unaware. 

     That comment makes DongWoon toss the blue shirt back into the closet on it’s hanger, pulling out nice, white button downs and the black suits that had each boy’s name stitched into the collar on the nape so they could tell them apart.  Holding his own up, DongWoon casts a thoughtless glance to his beast-like leader, inquiring gently, “Why so morbid…?” 

     “The guy I paid to renew our contracts hates us.” 

     DongWoon freezes to the spot, his body going stiff as he lowers the suit, staring at his friend with wide, startled eyes.  DooJoon’s simple admittance of hatred from another human being shook DongWoon to his core.  How could someone he never met proclaim hatred?  How had DooJoon dealt with a human being like that?  And how long had he been doing it?  His heart hammered in his chest as he opened his mouth, stuttering out, “W-what?  So you mean we could get screwed over and robbed?” 

     “No, he likes my money too much.”  DooJoon’s tired gaze pivots onto DongWoon, his eyes getting icy and sharp.  Now that someone knew his secrets, he went into high alert, even against a hangover.  This was how he was every time he had to go anywhere that concerned Mister Chun.  He would begin building up his strength to defend his soul in those moments locked away in a beige office with a dead plant on a polished desk.  DongWoon, under the leader’s intense stare, felt his breath hitch.  It was like he was being seen as an enemy.  In reality, though, DooJoon saw his youngest charge as not an enemy, but someone he may not be able to protect and it caused him to become sharp and hard.  DooJoon felt far from being able to be saved, but DongWoon on the other hand…  DooJoon had to do his best to keep that boy safe just like he had to protect the other four brothers in his care. 

     “Quit staring…”  DongWoon murmurs, watching DooJoon lightly shake the ice from his gaze, both of them blinking rapidly.  One, unaware he was staring and staring so intently, the other, feeling frozen to the floor by dark information and an icy gaze to match those chilling words.  DongWoon sees the freeze fade from his eldest friend’s eyes as DooJoon shoves both suits into a gym bag. 

     “Sorry…”  DooJoon murmurs, honesty in his voice.  Relaxing slightly, DongWoon nods and gives a fleeting smile of acceptance.  DongWoon was beginning to realize just how on edge the leader was about…well, whoever it was they were going to go see. 

     “Do you want to shower first or me?”  The eldest boy asks, sliding his phone lightly into his pocket. 

     “I will,”  DongWoon says as he stands up, grabbing gym clothes after DooJoon’s instructions.  They were going to tell the others they were going to work out.  Thinking back, the younger boy wondered how many times DooJoon had walked right past them with some fake story so he could go deal with the demon on his back.  As the shower starts, DongWoon sighs and leans into the hell fire hot water, hearing the answer his heart tells him; Too many times.

     Once he was squeaky clean, DongWoon walks into the shared room fully dressed in simple work out clothes in dark blues and grays, causing DooJoon to jump and slide his phone quickly into his pocket.  With a skeptical glance, DongWoon wonders what he had just caught DooJoon doing on his phone, but the thought was cast aside as he heard the quickest shower of his life.  In a flash, the elder was out again, his hair gelled to a perfect angle, his face devoid of make up, his eyes drained but focused all at the same time.  Who was it that put this lack of will into the B2ST leader? 

     “If this guy shows up…stay out of sight.  Please, Woon,” DooJoon says quietly, even applying a nickname to try and lessen the anxiousness that was filling up this bed room quickly like snake’s venom. 

     “What would happen if he saw me?”  The vocalist asks softly, staring at his leader with gentle concern.  Not for himself, but for the heart attack DooJoon looked ready to have at any second. 

     “I don’t know but…there’s a good chance he’ll show up.  He’ll want to know where his money is.” 

     “How much did it take?  I can probably help with the royalties I have saved up…”

     Shaking his head with a small, fleeting, grateful smile, DooJoon pats the young man’s shoulder in appreciation, saying, “No, no, don’t worry about it.”  Before a word of protest can be issued, DooJoon is leading the way out of the tiny room of revealed secrets, walking into the living room with a lively smile on his face.  Telling the kids that he and DongWoon were going to work out, he kept up his happy expression easily. 

     As he stooped down to shove two pairs of nice dress shoes into his gym bag, he kept up his act with practiced ease.  DongWoon stayed quiet, smiling gently, trying to act normal.  How could he when he was blatantly lying to his brothers?  Still, he wondered if DooJoon was comfortable with the lies, or if they hurt him, too.  Surely they must.  It was unlike DooJoon to keep secrets from five of his most trusted confidants.  How had he managed to keep this information about the contract a secret?  How had this even begun? 

     Sighing gently as DooJoon, smiling and chipper, led DongWoon out the door, the young singer could only feel dazed at all the things that were appearing as if he had been blind to them before.  In a way, he had been.  DooJoon had kept quiet about something that was a plague mark on his heart and DongWoon felt…not sad to have not been told but regretful that he wasn’t counted on to help.  None of them were.  Had the other five beast-like boys known about this predicament… they all would have shouldered the burden gladly.  There must be something more to this…some reason why DooJoon kept quiet. 

     These thoughts stab at DongWoon as he stands like a staute in the hall.  His trance is snapped as DooJoon growls at him to move.  Startled, DongWoon follows after his harried leader quickly, grumbling about being snapped at.

     “You don’t have to be rude…jerk…”  DongWoon murmurs, his pride hurt.  He keeps forgetting that for DooJoon, this is no time to be soft. 

     “Look, this is nerve wracking enough without you chewing on me too,”  DooJoon fires out quickly, standing at the elevator doors with a look of momentary weakness.  A silent apology but also a silent request to understand that was met with another look of apology and a small nod.  DongWoon did understand that this was difficult, even if he didn’t entirely know what it was.  Stepping into the elevator to the car park, the air was tense and anxious.  Both young men were like trapped lightning bolts; ready to flee at any second.  DooJoon wished desperately to not have to run into his contract holder Mister Chun.  DongWoon wished he could be of some help to his leader; his leader who he had never known could fall and not again rise brighter than before. 

     After the elevator dinged out the basement floor dully, two young men darted to a slick, shining black car that had a CUBE decal on the back window up in the corner.  It had been a gift to the boys after they had won their first award.  Mostly it was used sporadically; everything was in walking distance.  Once in a while, though, a horde of kids would pile in and they’d drive off into the night to go explore another city undetected.  It had been a long time since the six of them had just gone off to return the next morning, exhausted but thrilled at the things they had found in some small town.  They would squeeze into the elevator, laughing and still howling at one another as they trekked to their dorm, each boy having spent a night with his best friends while having an adventure.  Those days seemed long gone and no one could say for sure if they would return.  One could only hope they would. 

     Standing in the car park, the boy with experience pointed out the blind spot where no camera would see a sudden change of clothes.  Mumbling that speed was of pivotal importance, one boy darts into the blind.  Another stands checking his hair in the rear view mirror on the car door, unsatisfied with his appearance.  He felt never truly ready for days like this and never truly acceptable.  In some ways, he wasn’t acceptable to the contract holder.  He was seen as a blemish on a rich man’s heel to be made over and eventually, when the makeover fails, taken away.  The younger, “tamed god” with the now blonde but more brunette hair, reappears from the blind, offering his spot.  Unaware of internal struggles that raced through DooJoon’s body, DongWoon slips on his nice black socks and shoes after pulling open the passenger side door. 

     Hidden away, DooJoon speaks clearly into car park only inhabited by two men and a variety of sleeping mechanical beasts, “Check your hair before we get there.  Look as non-idol as possible, DongWoon.” 

     Complying easily, DongWoon sets his hair in a straight line, checking his own reflection for a moment.  What did he see in his deep eyes?  Strength, maybe.  Hope, perhaps.  Courage…yes, that was easily found.  He wanted so desperately to help his future by fixing these contract problems but more than that…he had the courage to help his leader, his brother, his friend. 

     Glancing up and seeing the reappearance of a familiar face, DongWoon slides into the passenger seat properly, speaking thoughtlessly, “How long have you been doing this?” 

     The answer dinned loudly in the oppressive silence as the body too large for it’s soul replies, “Forever.” 

     DongWoon’s eyes went wide before narrowing again in a wince.  It hurt him to hear that blank, broken, dead voice speak a horrible truth: forever.  It could have only been a few years, surely, but it was long enough to do damage that may never come undone.  Turning his head away to avoid showing the guilt in his gaze, DongWoon sits back in the seat as the car is started and revs its loud engine.  Pulling away from the car park, DongWoon feels the heavy weight of knowledge settle in his chest.  Pursuing thoughts of plans to help remedy the situation, DooJoon startles DongWoon out of his reverie. 

     “If he shows up…don’t tell him you know.”  A command is issued, to be followed without fail. 

     “Oh, so I’m just hanging around with you in a suit?  Seriously, man?”  DongWoon scoffs out before biting on his lips in regret.  He was being smart mouthed and it obviously sent more anxiety pumping through the elder man’s body. 

     “I’m setting you up a better bank account or something,” DooJoon grumbled out at first but his tone changed when he saw DongWoon regret his quick attitude.  They were both on edge; one knew why, the other didn’t.  Continuing on in a quiet voice, DooJoon adds, “If he says anything to you, act like he’s the president of South Korea.” 

    Sitting up straighter in his seat, DongWoon presses for at least a tiny bit of information, saying, “DooJoon…I mean, what have you gotten yourself into?”  There was worry and disbelief in the question and it’s answered quickly, darkly, cynically.

     “It’s not the mob.”

     “Then why are you acting like you’re about to sell your soul?”  Urgency in DongWoon’s voice earns him a glance from the elder man.  DooJoon stays quiet until he pulls up to the bank moments later, turning the car off and setting the keys into his pocket.  The drive had taken no time at all because DooJoon had driven at break neck speeds, desperate to get this over with.  Pain settled in his heart as he kept replaying DongWoon’s current question.  Sighing softly, gravely, DooJoon finally answers as he puts his hand on the door to open it.

     “Maybe I am.”

     Before further complaints and questions can barrage him, DooJoon is out of the car, being followed by a quiet, contemplative, unaware DongWoon.  Striding confidently into the bank, DooJoon pulls his wallet from his pocket, turning towards the first teller he finds.  As he approaches the worker bee behind the glass, he explains that he checked his bank account that morning and found his payment was not moved.  The teller began to type away at the computer, pulling up the information requested. 

     A tiny man in a crisp, black suit approaches like a quiet gust of wind; no one heard him but his presence was felt instantly.  Glancing back at DongWoon, DooJoon turns and bows so deeply his forehead nearly hits his knees.  Speaking in the most formal tone imaginable, DooJoon greets the business man.

     “Mister Chun.  I’m pleased to see you.”

     Ignoring the leader who felt unlike a leader in this man’s presence, Mister Chun turns on DongWoon.  The man’s movements are slow but so calculated you could hear the ‘ENTER’ button being pushed on the calculator in his head.  With a soft, unnoticeable voice, Mister Chun asks who DongWoon is, obviously already informed as to who this companion of DooJoon’s is. 

     DongWoon stares in surprise at the small man, looking around nervously as he answers politely, bowing but not nearly as deeply as DooJoon.  “Oh, uhm…  I’m just a business partner of DooJoon’s,” is the faulty reply given and DooJoon slides in with ease to cover DongWoon’s mistake.  “Mister Chun, this is Son DongWoon.  I’m helping him with a new bank account.”  DooJoon speaks as if he’s never seen the boy behind him who he guards now with his whole body to keep him away from a demon’s line of sight. 

     With a small, curt smile, Mister Chun takes a steady breath, saying, “I didn’t know BEAST’s did business together…But this bank is very trustworthy and your account would be well protected.” 

     DongWoon smiles, trying to keep up with DooJoon’s lie, nodding and murmuring he was grateful to his brother for helping him. 

     “Ah…Of course,” Mister Chun side steps DooJoon delicately, looking up into DongWoon’s eyes with a warm smile, reaching out to pat the young man’s shoulder.  Those eyes, though…were devoid of warmth.  They were dark and as black as the abyss.   

     “Well, little BEAST,”  He said “beast” as if it contaminated him and that by touching DongWoon’s shoulder activated the poison trapped in the word.  Moving his hand away quickly but with the ease of a practiced business man, Mister Chun continued his thought, “Mister Yoon and I have a few things to discuss.  So if you don’t mind…I’ll be taking him.”  There was no question in the curt, even tone and as he his heel, DooJoon followed. 

     DongWoon stood in the bank lobby, staring at his brother’s back, begging silently for DooJoon’s gaze to pivot back and explain wordlessly that everything would be okay.  However, as DooJoon and the small Mister Chun moved farther away…no glance turned back. 

     Opening and closing his mouth, wishing to find that courage he thought he had, DongWoon seals his mouth and trudges back to the waiting area, collapsing into a padded bench with a million questions in his mind.  Each question shoves another aside to take center stage a hundred times before DongWoon ignores each one, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.  Speaking softly to the ghosts of unknowing, he presented a truth to the spirits and the air, “We’re screwed.”

     A half hour passed slowly, DongWoon never moving from the tiny bench.  Now he sat with his back pressed to the cold wall, his head resting back in the same way.  His shoulders were slumped downwards as if he carried a heavy burden.  He did, but not as heavy as he thought it was.  Easily, the eldest brother could have given away all of his troubles to the five he watched over at any time.  But in a way, it would not have been easy.  DongWoon sits mulling over many things about what he had learned in the past day and could feel a heavy sigh fall from his lips.  It sounded just like DooJoon’s… 

     As if thinking his name could summon him, DooJoon walked stiffly down the marble steps of the esteemed bank.  DongWoon stared up at his friend but no eye contact was made.  DooJoon slid onto the padded bench with a deep sigh, leaning forward in the same way the singer had done thirty minutes prior.  Hiding his face in his hands, DooJoon awaited the barrage of questions he could feel on his friend’s lips, questions he was unsure if he could answer.  While he waited for DongWoon to speak, DooJoon could hear his body beg to quit, beg to rest, beg to sleep but he steeled it away from inquiring eyes of a concerned friend.  He acted as if he just had a conversation about money, but he never had “just conversations” with Mister Chun. 

     DongWoon studied DooJoon’s body language when he approached, sensing the meeting did not go well.  Unable to think of some way to ask all the questions that had stormed around his mind tumultuously, DongWoon spoke bluntly.

     “We’re ed, aren’t we?”

     DooJoon smiles slowly and shakes his head, appreciating the sharp, clear words.  There was so much worry deep in them that it aded every syllable.  “The money transferred while he and I were discussing B2ST’s future,” is the quiet response accompanied by a pat to the back as DooJoon sits up.  Letting his hand idle to hide the wince, the dried blood on his finger nails, and the creaking of his tired bones, DooJoon adds, “We’re set solidly until the next payment is due.” 

     As quiet as the aforementioned Mister Chun, a woman dressed in a dark, grey suit and a blank expression approaches down the marble steps.  DooJoon, upon seeing her, jumps to attention as he had with the contract holder.  Bowing to this mysterious lady, she peers over DooJoon’s shoulder to DongWoon.  Her gaze does not reveal anything and as she hands DooJoon a slip of paper, she nods curtly.  As quietly as she had appeared, she turns on her heel, ascending the stairs once more, her brown hair swinging in her pony tail.  Waiting until she was probably a few floors up, DooJoon shoves the paper into his suit pocket as he collapses back onto the bench once more.    

     DongWoon had sat up straight at the sight of the woman, wishing desperately to know her significance, if any existed.  Feeling the familiar weight of a tired friend on the little seat, DongWoon slumps back as well, hearing those thoughts begin to rant again.  How long would it be until something like this comes up again?  Would DooJoon be able to handle it?  Would the others and I be able to help?  Pushing those aside, DongWoon asks the easiest question yet.

     “Are you ready to go…?”

     Grunting his agreement, DooJoon fishes the keys from his pocket and tosses them to DongWoon, murmuring, “I’m still hung over…you drive.”  With his soft words, DooJoon pushes himself up but sticks to the ground, eyes closed, his arms hanging limply at his sides.  Opening his eyes at a snail’s pace, DooJoon walks even slower with DongWoon at his side to the car he had left outside.

     As the door is unlocked, two boys of varying shades of brunette hair slide in.  One young man sits straight in the seat, grabbing the steering wheel with steady, firm hands.  The other practically falls into his seat, sliding down as far as he can to hide away from the outside world beyond the car doors.  The car revs to life and is pulled away from the curb with practiced ease, the driver glancing to his companion with a sigh, slowly voicing one more question.

     “DooJoon…don’t lie to me.  Who is Mister Chun?”  There were too many details being left out to leave this alone.  At least DongWoon wanted to know about the fire that was being dealt with; it concerned not only him but the future of his family and his friends and their families.  Truly the reason must be enshrined in gold for DooJoon to keep it so secretive.  Either this secret was made of gold, or it was made of poison to away the holder’s life.  Regrettably, DooJoon was the only one holding onto this secret. 

     As sleep threatened to overcome DooJoon’s battered frame, he slides up enough to reach over and pat DongWoon’s shoulder like he had a million times before.  It was a gesture of appreciativeness and it was common of DooJoon to use it often.  He was always grateful and this time, more so.  Even if he would never admit it, DooJoon was glad someone had been with him this time.  Glad and upset all in the same breath.  He knew better then to bring DongWoon but he couldn’t withstand that anger…it scalded.  Opening his mouth sluggishly, the boy with worn eyes responds, “He’s one of those guys so rich you don’t realize he exists.  He’s not on any list and no one really sees him.  He has his fingers in several lucrative businesses.” 

     It was the answer DongWoon had been expecting, really.  It was sort of an air that Mister Chun gave off, an air that said if everyone realized who he was, they would bow as deeply as DooJoon did.  Closing his eyes as the words slid into the car with effort, DongWoon sighs quietly.  This was going to be difficult…whatever it was they had to do.  It would be worth it at day’s end, though… he had to believe that or the struggle would be meaningless.  All of the work DooJoon had put in behind the scenes would have no value any more.  DongWoon couldn’t do that to his leader, his friend, his brother.  Glancing over to said friend, DongWoon saw sleep begin to overtake worn brown eyes.  It was long over due for DooJoon to rest without worries plaguing him.

     The drive was quicker than DongWoon had intended; he wanted to go slowly so DooJoon could at least doze off in the gentle hum from the motor.  However, as soon as the car was parked in it’s familiar spot, DooJoon was out and moving quickly.  How did he keep going when sleep was worn like a second skin only moments ago…?  DongWoon studied the singer who also could rap on a moment’s notice and he really, really looked.  How had he… missed this person who stumbles around the dark car park like a ghost searching for it’s body?  The younger man kept his eyes glued firmly to DooJoon’s back, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.  As his knuckles turned white from the stress, he bit on the inside of his cheek, silently grieving.  Looking at the man he had thought he knew, he saw who was hidden in that once strong person.  This man who could barely keep himself upright because all of his energy was into protecting his five wards was the same man who keeps getting up with a smile on his face because he loved the life he had.  DongWoon wanted to shake his leader, scream at him to quit acting like nothing was wrong!  He wanted to beg him for the truth!  More so, he wanted to be trusted on to help…  As DongWoon feels emotions bubbling up to the surface of his calm façade, he sees DooJoon duck into the blind but…  it wasn’t a blind from where DongWoon sat.  Turning his gaze to give privacy, he peels his hands from the steering wheel.  Flexing his fingers, staring at his hands, he feels so overwhelmed that he uses both hands to cover his eyes for a moment.  Clawing at his head with a sigh, DongWoon moves to get out of the car, his gaze skittering across the car park to fall on his elder, finally seeing the true reason DooJoon kept this ordeal a secret. 

     DongWoon’s mouth fell open and his eyes opened wide, heart ache spread through his body swiftly.

     Too tired to realize himself, forgetting he had a companion, DooJoon stood with his shirt off and his back was turned to the car.  His back was littered in bruises and blood, each mark a black stain on once unblemished skin.  Welts shone in the dim light and…there…  on DooJoon’s spine…a few burn marks trailed in a line… each was no bigger than a coin.  As DooJoon continued to change, he turned to stoop down, his movements quick but it took only a moment to see what else had laid behind self-constructed walls.  Bright scrapes and dark, ugly bruises covered his chest.  Blood smeared across each fresh tear in his skin like broken rubies.  Scabbing, tiny scars pocked his stomach and shoulders.  Angry red welts rose up on his shoulders brighter than the ones on his back. 

     Soon this horror was covered in a loose shirt and DooJoon looked up slowly, giving DongWoon enough time to get out of the car with his gaze averted.  Covering his mouth with a shaking hand, DongWoon lightly moves past DooJoon into the blind, unable to look at the faded smile his brother wore.  Exhaustion ran through the elder boy’s face but his smile was genuine when he saw his friend approaching.  Feeling the ache race through his blood, DongWoon tucks himself against the wall when DooJoon’s gaze pivots.  Backing himself up to feel the cold concrete on his back, DongWoon slides down the wall.  Whatever strength he had had fled him at the sight of his leader’s ravaged frame.  Sitting with his knees against his chest, DongWoon buries his face in arms, his hands clawing at his hair.  His tears shook him violently, but he could think of nothing else to do. 

     As his sobs silently racked his body, DongWoon cried for every mark on DooJoon’s body.     

     Every moment that went unnoticed.

     Every hour he guarded them like a sentinel, never asking for anything in return.

     Every day he stood alone.

     Every smile that shone regardless of strength long lost.

     Every second he gave his life for them.

     DongWoon cried for everything because it was all he could do in this moment.  Lament what he was never shown and regret he had not held his hand out sooner to help DooJoon up.  Wiping at his eyes slowly, the weakness faded.  In his eyes, in place of the overwhelming sadness, resolve grew brighter.  Fire began to bloom and spread through DongWoon, igniting his courage again.  Quietly, reverently, he promised something in his heart.  He promised to fix everything.