Seungho turned around and placed the box on the table. He slowly lifted the lid and the other members joined him in peering at the contents. Seungho pulled out the first thing he saw; a CD. Seungho handed it to Thunder who put it into the disc-reader. An image of the Boss sprang up on the monitor, showing a self-recorded video from his office. The members watched him quietly as he spoke.

"Kids..." the Boss cleared his throat. "If you're watching this now, it means I'm already gone. The man who handed this to you should have been Kim Jong Kook. I know that you've never seen him before, but he's the man I trust the most besides you. The box that he gave you has items in it that I have left specifically for individual members. You'll understand when you see them."

The Boss paused. The members' breathing paused with him.

"I know that it'll be hard once I leave," the Boss sighed. "but I only ask that you stay together for your sakes. I'm not asking you to continue working as MBLAQ, but I'm asking you to continue treating each other as family. It's up to you whether or not to stay in this profession but whatever you choose, don't abandon each other. Don't turn your backs on each other.

I brought you all together for a reason unbeknownst to you... I brought you all together so that you could keep each other safe, to protect each other. You are not MBLAQ by coincidence, you are MBLAQ because you were fated to be together from the very start. My role was to mentor you and I hope that I have fulfilled that role well. There's a reason why you were trained to be who you are now and now is the time for it to be revealed. MBLAQ, kids, please take care. Please, fulfill my last wish, please stay together."

The members watched as the Boss leaned towards the camera to turn it off. The screen monitor turned black. The members stood, fixated in their spots. Eunjung leaned her head on Jihyo's shoulder as tears began to ran down both their faces. Thunder, Mir and G.O blotted their eyes with their sleeves. Joon looked at the floor, frowning as he tried his hardest to keep the tears from falling. Seungho kept his eyes on the screen, the tears falling down his face freely. He sniffed hard and walked back to the table where the box was. The other members, seeing what he was doing, walked over and joined him.

They stood around the box, staring into it, almost not knowing what to do. Joon was the first to slowly reach his hand into the box. Moving some things aside, his body froze when he saw a photo in a frame. He knew immediately the Boss had left it for him, and for Jihyo too. He pulled it out gingerly, his fingers trembling slightly as he held the frame tightly in both his hands. He felt a movement beside him and turned to see Jihyo had slotted herself between him and Seungho. She blinked and stared at the photo in Joon's hands, the emotions running through her body apparent on her face.

Joon watched her as the realisation dawned on her face. She was too easy to read, at least to Joon anyway. Jihyo blinked a few more times at the photo before turning to face Joon. She bit her lip, a habit she had formed when she was nervous, and stared up at him, searching his eyes for hints of his thoughts. Joon frowned slightly at her, indicating he was thinking the exact same thoughts as her. They exchanged looks for a few more seconds with the other members oblivious to them, deciding mutually without words to leave the discussion about the photo until later, when they were alone.

Infinite questions began running through Joon and Jihyo's minds as they watched the other members retrieve their respective items out of the box. Some of the items had made the other members curious, but they all meant something to the respective members. Something important that they hadn't shared with others but somehow the Boss had known...

***

Jihyo and Joon left HQ quietly. The reporters from various news stations were still outside the building, so they had left from the back door again. They walked in silence, Jihyo following Joon as they walked back to his apartment. When they arrived, Jihyo walked to the living room and sat down on the sofa blankly, Joon following closely behind.

"This..." Jihyo pulled out the photo frame from earlier from her bag. "Joon... This..."

"I know," he reassured her firmly, his jaw clenched as he stared in front of him. He was just as confused as she was.

"I mean... These are my parents, you already know that right? This... This is the Boss," Jihyo began pointing at the figures in the photo. "Joon, is that..."

"My parents," Joon finished her sentence for her. He paused before replying, "yeah."

Jihyo stared at the photo in her hands, unable to speak. It was a photo of 6 people, 4 men and 2 women. They seemed close and were laughing in the photo. It reminded Jihyo of MBLAQ, their close-knit team's friendship. There were two distinct couples in the photo, Jihyo could see her parents were standing together and the other couple, that Joon had confirmed were his parents, were also standing together, the males' arms draped around the females' shoulders. The other two men were stood together, arms around each other's shoulders, smiling and laughing at the camera.

"Why did he leave this for us?" Joon asked quietly, still refusing to look at the photo and instead staring at the space in front of him.

"I... I don't know, Joon..." Jihyo replied. She wished she could answer his question.

The whole day had been a blur, a complete shock to the system. First, the Boss was announced to be dead. Something none of them could ever foresee, something they wouldn't have imagined to happen. Second, there was something incredibly suspicious about his death. A bullet to the heart? No forced entry? A sniper's work. Third, the appearance of Kim Jong Kook. A man their Boss had trusted but had never let them seen before. Fourth, the things that Kim Jong Kook had said to them coupled with the words the Boss had left in his video message... The reason MBLAQ was formed... Fifth, and finally, this photo he had left Joon and Jihyo as well as the other items he had left for the respective members.

Jihyo looked down at the photo again, trying to rack her brains for something the Boss had wanted them to see or think or realise. It took her a fair few minutes before thinking of the most obvious solution.

"Joon... Do you still have your parents' stuff?" Jihyo asked quietly.

"Yeah..." Joon answered slowly as he turned to face her, confused. "Why?"

"Get it out," she said, standing up. "I'm gonna go home and get something, I'll be right back."

"Wait," Joon stood up, grabbing her wrist as she walked away. "I can't let you go out alone. What if... What if..."

Jihyo shook her head and released her wrist from his grasp. "I'll be fine, Joon. I can protect myself. Besides, I only live a few minutes away."

Jihyo could see Joon's eyes harden with fear and worry so she smiled wearily at him, giving him a quick hug before leaving the apartment quickly. Joon sighed and walked into his bedroom, pulling out a box from his wardrobe. He returned to the living room and placed it on the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of it. He breathed in deeply before lifting the lid of the box. He hadn't seen the contents of the box since that day... that day...

***

"See you tomorrow, Onew. Don't be late," Joon waved with a chuckle at his best friend as he opened the front gate to his house.

"I'll try," Onew replied, grinning as he carried on walking down the street.

Joon opened the front door and walked inside, locking the door behind him. He threw off his shoes and slipped into his slippers.

"I'm home!" He called out.

He hummed as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom, throwing his bag and books on the floor. He pulled off his school blazer and tie, untucking his white shirt from his trousers. He left his room and made his way downstairs again, like he usually did after a hectic school day.

"Umma," he called out with aegyo as he bounced into the kitchen, expecting to see his mother cooking like she usually was.

Except she wasn't there. The kitchen was empty and eerily still. Weird, thought Joon. She was usually in the kitchen when he came home from school.

"Umma?" He called out again. No response.

He walked towards the living room and poked his head through the door, expecting to see his father sitting on the couch reading his newspaper in front of the television. It wasn't until then, did he realise how quiet the house was. Usually, he would be greeted by the hissing of the cooker's flames in the kitchen, or the blaring television in the living room as soon as he walked through the front door. He had gotten so used to the sounds that blended in with background noise, that he didn't even realise the house was quiet, oh so quiet, right now.

"Appa? Umma?" He called out again, his voice slightly trembling. Something was wrong, he could feel it now, something was very wrong.

He checked all the rooms downstairs; the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, even the back garden. Nothing. No-one. He made his way upstairs, tip-toeing gingerly, taking his time on each step upwards. Glancing at the closed doors around him, he decided to make his way to his parent's bedroom, the one next to his own. He put his hand on the door handle, his body almost unwilling to open it.

"Appa? Umma?" He called out in an almost-whisper, opening the door slowly and peeking inside.

What he saw next had scarred him for the rest of his life, an image burned into his mind that he couldn't get rid of for many years of sleepless nights. There, in his parent's bedroom, he saw two bodies covered in blood. His parents' bodies.

His father's body was laid on the double bed, his back towards the ceiling. His face was turned towards the wall opposite the door. His clothes were drenched in blood, covering his face, his head, his hands, his neck and his feet. The bed under him was now covered in blood too, a circle of red encircling his body. His mother's body was on the floor, in front of the bedside table, curled up into a ball. Her arms were held in front of her face, slashed open, raw meat visible as the blood was still gushing out and seeping into the carpet.

Joon couldn't do anything but stare in shock at the room before him. It took him a few minutes before he could let out a cry, screaming for his mother and father, screaming of fear, screaming to demand to know who did it. His neighbour, a friendly old woman who his family had always been close with, knocked on his front door upon hearing his cries. The door was unlocked so she let herself in, climbing the stairs and witnessing the distressing sight for herself. She cradled Joon in her arms as he fell to the floor on his knees, all energy seeping out of him as he cried his heart out, ugly tears spilling down his face. She pulled him away and called the police.

Joon cried until he ran out of tears, exhaustion taking over him as countless policemen talked to him, taking his statements, asking him if he was alright, asking him if he had any other family he could stay with. He didn't, and so that night, he stayed with his neighbour.

"I can't let you stay alone in that house," she had insisted when he weakly tried to refuse her offer. "All my children have grown up, I live alone and I have plenty of spare rooms. It would make no sense if you stayed elsewhere."

Secretly, he was glad of the hospitality. He had no family besides his parents. At least, none that he knew of. Later, he would find out from the police that his parents had been murdered, although that much he knew already. The positioning of their bodies told them more about their last moments though, that his father had been protecting his mother but the murderer had thrown him onto the bed after stabbing him several times in the heart. His mother had been crouched next to the bed, the wounds on her arms were defensive, the police had said, and she had her arms in front of her face as the murderer attacked her multiple times.

The police turned his house upside down, looking for mere shreds of evidence the murderer may have left behind. There were none. Not even a light fingerprint or a trace of DNA from a single strand of hair could be found. Nothing. Joon was distraught, if nothing else. It would have been easier to vent his anger at someone if he knew who they were, but he didn't. He had no clue whatsoever.

Joon couldn't face going back to school after that day and had stayed in his neighbour's house whilst the police investigated his house. The one time he had appeared outside was the umpteenth time his best friend, Onew, had been to visit him, begging his neighbour to let him see him.

The old woman had finally obliged, pulling Joon down to the front door, his face blank and his eyes full of anger and sadness as he usually was these days. Onew had tried to talk to him but Joon didn't respond. He didn't utter a single word and simply stared at his best friend, his eyes lost as he turned around and walked back up the stairs to his room again. Onew could see the pain he was feeling and wouldn't give up. He proceeded to try and see him every day, each time with no success, up until the day Joon up and left the city for good.

A few months later, Joon told his neighbour that he had somehow managed to contact his extended family that lived in Seoul. He set about packing up all their belongings into cardboard boxes (sparing his parent's clothes) and withdrew all his money from his savings account. Coupled with the money his parents left him in their wills and the money he gained from selling the house, it was enough to get him by another six or seven years living by himself in Seoul.

The part about his extended family was a lie, of course. His neighbour wasn't stupid, she could see through it all but she had stayed quiet, leaving him to do whatever he wanted and only insisting that he would call her as soon as he settled down.

"Just to let me know you're safe," she had said.

Joon promised he would and shortly left the town without another word to anyone, not even his best friend, Onew. By the time he got to Seoul and bought himself a one-bedroom apartment (pretending to be his father, since he wasn't of legal age yet), it was already the summer holidays. He holed himself up in his apartment, in a city where he knew of nothing and no-one. He didn't speak a single word to anyone except for the odd "thanks" to strangers at the supermarket where he did his weekly shopping. In three months, he matured a lot and became a lot more withdrawn, completely opposite to his bubbly and outgoing personality before.

He enrolled at a new school after the summer and begun to start his new life. That was where he met Kim Jihyo, who opened him up again after nearly half a year of inward silence and solitude. That was when his life changed, again.