Prologue

I haven’t done anything near successful in my life. My mother takes pleasure in reminding me of that. A sorry excuse for a human being, she would call me, and I sort of agree. I’ve been wanting to prove her wrong, to show her that I wasn’t all that of a loser. I managed to do that by becoming the manager of South Korea’s biggest entertainment company’s newbie. He’s been active for four months, and he’s already got a fairly established fanbase and positive attention from his seniors and other critiques. His first manager had to quit for some reasons unknown to me. I don’t really care, it was because of that that I managed to get the job anyway.

Today is my first day. I’m quite excited to get to know him, since I’ve only been observing him through television and other media resources. I wonder if he’s really as nice as he seems on programs, or if he really lives up to his many pleasant nicknames that usually consist of ‘angel’.

I pad down the sophisticatedly quiet corridors, the sound of my shoes thumping against the firm blue carpet slightly echoing off the poster-covered walls. This is the ‘office’ side of the building, I am told by the receptionist when I entered, so it’s more quiet here. I hear the occasional buzzing of photocopy machines. I stop an office lady for directions, she gives me what I want, albeit quite irritatedly. Apparently, I’m supposed to be on the eighth floor, not the sixth. I take a left turn followed by two rights before I find the elevators of that floor.

The walls of the elevator are covered with posters as well; the company must really value their artistes. Well, I can see why, they’re the most successful entertainment company, the artistes they produce are the cream of the crop. I spot his poster, the rookie singer I’m supposed to be in charge of for the rest of his career, unless I quit or something else goes wrong.

I stop in front of a white door that has a gold plaque on it. Head Artiste Manager Kim Dong Chul, it says in black and bold capital letters. I rap gently on the door and receive a signal to come in. The office is lavish, almost like a library in a billionaire’s mansion. Almost all the furniture is made of dark brown wood, occasionally accentuated with gold. His shelves are filled with books and pictures, mostly of him and the artistes I saw on the walls. I greet him with a deep and respectful bow, and he motions for me to sit. He runs over the basic requirements of my job; I have to protect the newbie and his image at all times, be it from fans or the scandal-hungry press. I even have to make sure his interview answers are perfect to the period. He compliments my relatively large build, since it comes in handy when I have to ward off hordes of fangirls and reporters if need be.

We end off with a handshake and his assistant takes me to the artistes’ side of the building. I go up all the way to the fifteenth floor. As soon as the lift doors part, I hear upbeat music blaring from the many doors on the floor, some of which I recognize, some I don’t. The lady brings me to the third door on the left and knocks gently on it, though I thought it to be futile, since the occupant probably wouldn’t be able to hear it over the music. She opens the door anyway and the dancer stops his routine abruptly, turning to us with a flushed and glistening face. He looks exactly like how he does on TV, maybe even better. His chest heaves up and down heavily from the rigorous movements before. I suppose he realized what was going on as he quickly sprints over to the stereo and turns off the music.

“Hi, Baekhyun,” the lady greets with a courteous smile. The rookie offers a broad smile and bows to us, the lady nods, while I dip my head to acknowledge him. “This is your new manager. I told you this before.”

“Oh.” the rookie nods. “Hello, I’m Baekhyun.”

“I’m Chanyeol,” I say, stretching out my hand for a shake. He gladly accepts it with more zest than I expected. I find myself liking the boy already, but I remind myself not to let my guard down so quickly.

“Chanyeol here will be taking care of you for the rest of your career, unless something happens.”

“Yes ma’am,” Baekhyun says while I mumble it under my breath.

“I’ll leave you two to work things out then.” the both of us nod and send her out. The door clicks shut and I stare at the singer, waiting to see if he would reveal his true self. Surprisingly, he just stares back innocently, still panting slightly with perspiration dripping down the sides of his pale face. Pale purple hair looks great on him, surprisingly. I never thought anyone could look good with purple hair, but clearly Baekhyun is an exception. His hair is tousled from the practice, adding on to his boyish looks and highlighting his youth. Above average eyes in terms of size, considering he doesn’t have double eyelids, his lips are full and pink, chapped slightly but still attractive. I’ve honestly never seen someone look so natural and so good. I thought I looked relatively okay, but some people are just luckier with the genes.

“Is… There something on my face?” his question jolts me back to reality, and I realize just how awkward I’ve made the situation by staring at him so blatantly like that.

Yes, there’s a little bit of beauty there beside your lips, let me take it off of you, I’m tempted to say. But instead, I just shake my head stupidly. He chuckles, dipping his hands into his pockets.

“Shall we sit and chat?” I offer, gesturing to the slightly worn out leather couch in the corner of the room. Baekhyun nods, and move towards it to sit. “So how old are you?”

“I turn twenty next May. What about you? You seem young, compared to my previous manager.”

“Oh, I’m twenty-four now,” I say sheepishly. I never thought twenty-four was old until I met him, usually I hang out with my other twenty-four year olds.

“That’s still so young. What if people mistake you as my new partner or something? I mean, it’s not like you’re bad looking, and I honestly thought you were a trainee here just now.” Baekhyun laughs, a cautious but sincere one, as if he found it really funny, but was afraid I might get offended. Why does he think I’m so fragile? If anybody is fragile, it’s him, isn’t it?

“I thought I was good looking too,” I tell him honestly, “but people here are on a whole new level of good looking.”

“Oh, come on, how many of them do you think are natural?” Baekhyun rolls his eyes ever so slightly.

“Are you?”

Baekhyun doesn’t seem fazed by this, he looks calm, and answers me just as calmly. “Just a few jabs here and there. It’s up to you whether you want to believe me or not.”

“I don’t think surgery is a bad thing, but well, it’s their faces not mine, so. Do you have any close friends in the company? What about outside?”

“I have my high school friends, we keep in touch but not as often as before, because, well,” Baekhyun gestures to the room, and I nod understandingly. “I don’t have many in the company. Everyone’s so busy with their own things, you know.”

“True.” I nod. Maybe Baekhyun really is who he is on TV? “Any girlfriends? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun looks mildly troubled by my question, maybe I’ve hit a sore spot. “I… I didn’t have any girlfriends before. What about you?”

“I, um, well, I’ve dated once in high school, but that didn’t end up so well,” I mumble, “and my mother finds joy in reminding me that I’m twenty-four and still single.”

“I know that feeling, it .” Baekhyun sympathizes. “My parents weren’t completely supportive of my wanting to be a singer, I managed to convince them, but they’re still slightly bitter about it. What with all the irregular work hours and dating ban and all.”

Our small talk goes on, and I realize just how much of a social person Baekhyun is. He keeps the conversation going so effortlessly. I know I’ll like this boy very much in time to come, but for now, it’s a good first impression. My first meeting with Byun Baekhyun didn’t crash and burn.