“So sign this, sign here,” said Key absentmindedly, tapping at a random blank where I scrawled my name.

Key lived in the apartment opposite mine. When I first moved in, I didn’t try to talk to anyone in my apartment. They were all well off families or businessmen, and I didn’t know what to say. However, when I was coming home one day, so was Key. I stared at him. He was young, he was goodlooking, He had blonde hair.

He gave me a weird look before disappearing in his own apartment.

Key really liked magazines. He had subscriptions to heaps of them. I like magazines too, they have a lot of pretty photographs. But I would never spend so much money on them! But Key did. But it was very expensive. So naturally, he got ty when he realised someone was stealing them. He was convinced it was me.

I didn’t know that was the reason why his door was always slightly open every time I came home from work, and although I wasn’t supposed to see, I could always make out his eye peering through the crack. When I went to work, that door was slightly open again, an eye pressed it again. It was like this for 2 weeks. To say it creeped me out was saying the least. I thought he was a stalker who wanted to kill me or something, and was spying on me and waiting for the right time. I got particularly spooked when I came home early one day to find him peering into my mailbox in the foyer. When he saw that I had seen he ran away. I was so scared that I would find anthrax or a dead animal in my mailbox. I had watched a documentary on stalkers the night before to educate myself, and I suspected Key was mine.

But he hadn’t made his move yet. So I ignored him the day I came home with thick envelopes underneath my arm and his door was slightly ajar.

They were red notices for bills. A bill for electricity, a bill for water, a bill for internet, a bill for every ing thing. I had them spread out on my table. Numbers, words everywhere.

I wasn’t poor. I had the money. I have a lot of money stored away in my account. It’s just that I’m not too good with numbers and words. I dropped out when I was 16 from high school and pretty much failed every year when I was in the education system. In a world where everyone is a genius with numbers and words I felt like I was an outsider. When other people read or did equations it was like magic to me. Everyone was so freaking smart and I felt like an enormous idiot when I looked at a sheet and all I saw were lines, circles and that all merged together. I mean, I can read easy things, like a sign and a title. But all together I couldn’t handle it.

I had my head in my hands, not knowing what I was going to do. I couldn’t read the letters but I knew that if I didn’t fill them out and do the proper stuff and pay then everything would be shut off. But I didn’t know how! I didn’t know how to fill them out, what they wanted me to do! The words were too close together and too small and…

“I CAUGHT YOU!” came a screech from my door and I turned around and nearly fainted. Key was standing with a pot in one hand looking like he was going to murder me. I was going to die. Scared out of my wits and frustrated with my situation, I not so proudly burst into tears.

“Why are you crying?” asked Key, lowering his pot. “Don’t cry. Look, just give me my magazines back and I’ll leave.”

“What magazines?” I hiccupped, trembling. “Please don’t hurt me!”

“The magazines you stole! The ones under your arm! And I’m not going to hurt you, don’t cry. Just give me back my magazines.”

“I don’t have your magazines. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

When he looked at the table with the opened envelopes and the letters with the bright red letters FINAL NOTICE he seemed to wilt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he blubbered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to barge into you like this.”

He introduced himself awkwardly as I nodded, still wiping my eyes and crying a little.

“Hey, how old are you?” Key asked nicely.

I told him I was eighteen and that I lived by myself. And now all these bills were piling in and I didn’t know what to do.

He sat in the chair next to me and rubbed my back without being invited to.

“Don’t you have enough money, sweetheart?” he asked me.

I told him that I did, it was just that I didn’t read and do maths so well and I didn’t know how to fill out and pay these forms. He listened without making any comment that I was 18 and couldn’t do things a primary age kid could.

“I’ll help you,” he announced.

So he did. He worked everything out and wrote out the checks for me, all I needed to do was sign where he pointed. He explained things on the letters to me so I knew what they were about. Soon, the helping me with the bills turned to helping me with meals since I could only cook instant noodles and we watched tv in my apartment a lot. Key is my first, best and only friend.

Key finally caught the thief of his magazines by staking out the mailboxes and found out it was some teenage girl. Man, I never want to get on the bad side of Key. He’s scary.  I think the whole apartment building heard him screaming thief.

So he was helping me with my bills tonight.

“Hyung, I got promoted!” I told him.

“Good for you baby!” he said. He had an arsenal of pet names for me. “We need to celebrate! I have a cake I got from the cake shop in my fridge. Let’s eat that!”

He ran out and came back a second later with a huge white box.

“Yaaay!” I sang, getting out my forks. I made sure that two were still in their slot and quickly scanned the other things. They were all there. Phew.

“I wonder what it’s like to work,” mused Key as he dug into the chocolate gateau. “Do you have fun working?”

Key has asked me this many times. Key doesn’t have a job. I don’t think he ever has. His parents pay for everything, he told me. He didn’t see the point in working when he already had the money. He just seemed to play with his numerous friends all day.

“It’s hard and tiring sometimes, but it’s sort of fun,” I agree around a mouth of chocolate cake. “I like it, and it gets better that it’s giving me money.”

“Have you told your boyfriend?” asked Key.

No, Key didn’t know the ‘truth’. But it wasn’t like I was lying about me and Joon. Key just never asked if Joon had a wife or not.

“Not yet. Maybe I’ll text him about it,” I said, shifting to sit on Key’s lap.

“He would be proud,” said Key, lifting up his plate to let me sit and giving my hair a when I settled down.

Me and Key had a weird relationship. It hovered from close best friends to mother and son. Not like I was complaining. I like being coddled.  Joon once called Key a lesbian and I was going to defend Key until I realised that was what I sort of saw him as too. I don’t think Key would appreciate if I told him though.

“I hope my new boss is nice,” I said dreamily. “Oh! That reminds me! Can you tell me what the documents about him say?”

I grabbed the folder from my coffee table and gave it to Key.

“Let’s see,” hummed Key, rubbing his cheek against my hair.

“Graduated with honours from Seoul University majoring in Advertising and Business. Worked in some advertising company.. ooh, he got headhunted for this job, he must be very smart. And he’s only 26.”

I sighed. He sounded smart. I was probably not going to have much to say to him. He was probably intimidating and a geek. Maybe I was the only who was intimidated by a geek, but I always felt really dumb next to someone who was smart. Even that sentence was really dumb.

“Aww, he’s taken, Tae! He sounded like such a catch. He’s married with a one year old daughter. What a shame. Look at the picture attached.”

I held the small black and white picture, smiling softly. This Onew guy was quite good-looking. I don’t know what Key is on about. He sounds perfect.

A/N I'm sorry I had to have a little taekey in my story :P i think Taemin needs to meet a certain someone soon and get this show on the road! ;)

tell me what you think :D