pandemonium

Lee Dojung was not looking forward to this task.

But then, a darker and more sadistic part of him totally was because he could anticipate Sangjeon's reaction and he just knew he didn't want to miss this despite the fact that he was definitely going to be on the receiving end of Sangjeon's wrath. He grinned to himself, eagerly pressing the call button on the elevator several times, ignoring the strange stare he had earned himself from the woman standing next to him. He was excited; what business was it of hers if he pressed the call button a thousand times?

"It's not going to come any faster," she said softly, looking away from Dojung when he shot her a look.

"Pardon me?" he asked, his voice a little dry. Did he ask for her opinion?

"The elevator won't come any fas-" Dojung interrupted her with the force of his signature charming grin, leaving her dumbstruck enough to not comprehend his slightly rude next sentence and (hopefully) leave her in awe long enough that he can leave in the elevator without her.

"Nosy girls aren't very cute," he said, then pinched her nose with false affection and stepped into the elevator, eagerly clicking the 'door shut' button before she could regain her composure and have the sense to be offended by his bad attitude. He chuckled to himself in the safety of the elevator, tapping his fingers along the cool metal of the awkwardly placed hand rail that dug into his tailbone. Seven floors up, two doors down, and Dojung finally had the sense to start feeling the jitters.

Issue number one: It's before seven am. Sangjeon threatened to maim him if he ever had a repeat of the last incident in which he woke Sangjeon up before seven. And... knowing Sangjeon, he might actually follow through with a brutal beating.

Issue number two: He was about to deliver some news for Sangjeon that would really seriously irritate him. That's two strikes against his life, and two reasons that he probably shouldn't knock on the door and should instead make his way to the nearest Starbucks to start stocking up on bribery ammunition and things he can use to persuade Sangjeon that he's useful to keep around. As of right now, all he had was bad news and the clothes on his back-- most of which probably made it easier for Sangjeon to grab him by. Seriously, what was he thinking wearing a trench coat?

However, Dojung had a sadistic streak through him and a mischievous side, and he was honestly probably a little masochistic. And for all those reasons, he raised his hand and began banging on the door to Sangjeon's apartment at six thirty in the morning ready to deliver bad news.

After about five minutes of straight knocking, Dojung began hearing angry noises from the inside of the apartment. A few loud bangs as Sangjeon likely tripped over his own comforter, a couple of malicious shouts, and some promises of death sounded before a positively murderous looking Sangjeon, who barely reaching Dojung's chin, was dragging Dojung into the apartment by his collar. "You must have lost your damn mind," Sangjeon grumbled, "coming in'na my house at six thirty-"

"Six forty five."

Sangjeon's jaw momentarily went slack, and Dojung was pretty sure he was about to be abused. But instead, Sangjeon stepped away from the door with an irritated grunt and made his way to the kitchen, leaving his hyung to scurry in, thanking his lucky stars that Sangjeon probably ddn't have the energy to punch him just yet. He sincerely hoped it stayed that way.

"Did you seriously just correct me hyung? Yah, did you get some girl pregnant?" Sangjeon asked over his shoulder. Dojung's eyebrow arched, clearly confused as to why it was suspected that he had impregnated a girl. Sangjeon made his way to the fridge and pulled some orange juice out, grabbing a glass on his way back to Dojung ("Oh, you got me some orange juice?" he asked, only to be laughed at as Sangjeon drank the juice right in front of him. Dojung made a face, mumbling that Sangjeon had no respect.) "Well the only reason I can think of that you would show up at my house at this time is that you got someone pregnant and can't afford it, so you purchased a huge life insurance policy and now you're committing suicide by coming here and waking me up."

Dojung grinned and tapped his fingers on the table, humming his approval. Sangjeon had a morbid sense of humor and a vivid imagination, which was a pretty awful combination for most people and a pretty hilarious combination for Dojung, who enjoyed playing scenario games deep into the night with his sharp eyed dongsaeng. "Yes, I've impregnated a young intern at the agency. She's young and bubbly and blonde-"

"That's a nice touch," Sangjeon added, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he nibbled on some candies offered by his manager as a peace offering. Dojung winked and nodded at Sangjeon. Often, on bored and quiet days or when the two of them were mad at each other, they created situations and told stories to each other. They were natural story tellers--perhaps it was what bonded them together- and could sit around for hours imagining false scenarios. Sangjeon often listened to Dojung for hours, his eyes twinkling as he imagined the fantastic events in clear detail. His vivid imagination coupled with Dojung's impeccable wit was quite the combination. Plus Sangjeon had a thing for blondes.

Dojung cleared his throat, "She approached me first, of course," Sangjeon snorted and agreed, because Dojung wasn't the type to approach women, "and despite the fact that I was resistant, she was extremely persistent. The first time I rejected her was when we met the first day she began her training. I was rushing to pick you up from your latest adventure," and by adventure, Dojung meant fling, because the Sangjeon of Dojung's fantasies was highly promiscuous despite the fact that real-life Sangjeon was still innocent, "and, by fate, we bumped into each other. She was taken by my dashing looks right away because, honestly, who can resist this face?"

As the story continued, Dojung began moving about the apartment, picking up the hurricane of clothing that occurred every time Sangjeon got home, always desperate to get his day time clothes off as quickly as possible, wishing to be in the comfort of his pajamas. Sangjeon watched him through narrowed eyes as he moved about, still chattering away about the imaginary blonde girl whom he was trying to collect imaginary life insurance for. "And by the third time she advanced upon me, I had lost my will to fight it. I had thought, from the moment I met her, that there was a spark between us-"

"Ew hyung, shut up," Sangjeon didn't really like it when Dojung got into the cutesy, romantic stuff. Imagining his strange, almost anti-social hyung flirting with a girl or having a spark with her was weird. Sangjeon could hardly imagine Dojung being in a relationship or really being anything but his hyung. He was like a student who never realized their teacher had a life outside the classroom-- he was pretty sure Dojung was only his manager, and went home and turned off like a robot after he was done...managing. Dojung rolled his eyes, tossing a pile of stray laundry into the mostly unused hamper with a sigh of disapproval. Seriously, Sangjeon was messy. "So why are you cleaning my house right now?" Sangjeon finally asked. Dojung cursed himself, his hand pausing over the pile of paperwork that was spewed all over the smooth marble of the kitchen counters, next to stacks of Chinese take-out and pizza boxes. He didn't really have an answer - he was kind of just hoping he could distract the tired Sangjeon with stories while he scurried around cleaning the gigantic condo.

"Cleaning?" he asked, cursing himself for the nervous squeak in his voice. "Who is cleaning? I'm just- Oh! Would you look at that!" he pretended to be surprised, as if his hands were working on their own as they got the papers together and placed them in the severely neglected filing cabinet. "I guess I just couldn't help myself around such a mess," he said, trying to pull of a nonchalant shrug that was anything but convincing. A small frown tugged at Sangjeon's lips.

"Hyung," his voice held a hidden threat that caused Dojung to wince. This was going to be bad. This was going to be very bad. And that is why Dojung completely avoided the question and continued making his way through the apartment, cleaning like it was compulsive. After a few awkward moments, Sangjeon reluctantly got up off of his perch on the bar stool and followed his manager as he wandered up to the second floor, straight for Sangjeon's bedroom, where he began picking up even more hurricanes of clothing and paperwork. "Hyung," Sangjeon warned again as Dojung opened up the first drawer in his dresser.

Dojung laughed as he rifled through the first drawer, "I'm worried about you, you know."

Sangjeon made a face, "Oh? Why?"

Dojung shot him a dubious look, gesturing with his eyes to the contents of the drawer. Sangjeon glanced down, confused. "I'm concerned with the fact that your dressers top drawer is full of old cell phones, credit cards, and chocolate bar wrappers. Basically what I'm thinking is that you're a secret agent with an alarming addiction to chocolate," he said, false concern and a touch of worry on his face as he poked the small pudge on Sangjeon's tummy. Sangjeon smacked his hand away and huffed.

"I'm not fat," he insisted, but he none the less pulled up his shirt to inspect the smooth skin of his stomach. He certainly was not fat, but he wasn't thin either. He frowned, tugging his shirt down with irritance as he glared at his hyung. So what he wasn't all super toned like Dojung? Geez, not everyone can have abs. Some people actually like chocolate, and candy, and whatnot. And it totally wasn't Sangjeon's fault that his tummy was hard to tone. He did sit ups, sure, but he often got bored of the exercise and found himself much more attracted to sitting on the couch with popcorn and a movie. Dojung rolled his eyes- "Yeah, sure Sangjeon."

"I'm not," Sangjeon insisted, biting his lower lip as he got progressively more irritated, continuing to follow Dojung through the house seeing as Dojung had found a way to keep Sangjeon occupied as he straightened up. The nice thing about Sangjeon was that he was clean. As in, nothing gross was sitting around the house. He vacuumed, wiped surfaces, did dishes, and usually at least washed the laundry. Although he certainly wasn't organized, Sangjeon was clean. It made things a lot easier as Dojung shuffled through his belongings and his spare rooms, making sure the condominium was presentable while simultaneously teasing Sangjeon about his little tummy fat.

"I'm just saying you might want to lay off the donuts in the morning, that's all," Dojung said as he threw away the empty boxes and began emptying the dishwasher. Sangjeon pulled his shirt clear off this time, poking his tummy out toward Dojung, ordering that Dojung touch his tummy to prove that he was not fat. Dojung hid his smirk by bending down to clear out the dishes. Sangjeon's biggest downfall was that he was vain, honestly. If you even made the slightest hint that something about him was imperfect, he'd become completely hung up over it and think only about that little flaw, even if it was something as tiny as having a weird birthmark, or the fact that one of his eyes was just slightly smaller than the other. It was sad, at times, to take advantage of his vanity because Dojung knew the underlying pain it caused Sangjeon to face his imperfections, but at the same time Dojung didn't really care. Everyone had their life circumstances and their problems; it wasn't his job to walk on his tip toes around people just because they couldn't handle the truth.

"Touch my stomach," Sangjeon whined, making a grab for Dojung's currently occupied hands in an attempt to force the manager to concede, which at this point was fine since Dojung had already managed to clean up the little sporadic messes that had previously been lying all over the condominium. He checked his watch and sighed. The furniture company would be arriving in the next few minutes to assemble the bunk beds for the members of the idol group to sleep on, and Sangjeon still didn't even know he was going to be in an idol group. Dojung hardly paid attention as his fingers grazed the soft skin on Sangjeon's waist, lost instead in the world of panic and fear as he wondered how he was going to break the news to Sangjeon that his father had sank all their funds into creating an idol group, and that he was planning to move the chosen trainees into Sangjeon's upscale condominium that very day. Seriously, there was just no way of going about this.

"Sangjeon," Dojung forcefully interrupting the boy as he rambled on and on about how his tummy fat was cute (having abandoned the idea that he was totally skinny). Sangjeon's words died in his throat as he became immediately suspicious of the serious tone that Dojung was using. His manager rarely ever sounded serious like that, and when he did Sangjeon could be certain he wasn't going to like what he heard. Sangjeon suddenly became acutely aware of his over all lack of clothing and snatched his discarded shirt off the floor, awkwardly slipping it on in hopes of stalling the inevitable bad news in the only way he could think of. After a few awkward moments in which they stared at each other and waited for the other to speak, Dojung continued. "You dad has done something you're not going to like."

Sangjeon barked out a laugh, surprised and visibly relieved. His dad was always doing dumb stuff, but it was never enough to warrant him freaking out. Obviously Dojung was just overreacting to get a rise out of Sangjeon. Except for the fact that as Sangjeon laughed and rolled his eyes, Dojung's face remained grave. "Yah, hyung, way to scare me," Sangjeon playfully pushed Dojung, hoping to break his friend's acting. Honestly, although Dojung was a good actor, he often gave himself away by grinning.

But Dojung wasn't grinning. Dojung sighed, deflated, "Look, Sangjeon, your dad bought an entertainment company." Sangjeon's grin faltered. His dad was impulsive, his dad was reckless. But was he that reckless? An entertainment company would cost a fortune, and even with the riches his family possessed, it was still an incredibly risky endeavor. And why in the world would his father decide to purchase an entertainment company? And although of course this was strange news, Sangjeon wasn't really understanding how it connected to himself. So his dad wanted to create a girl group, woop de doo. "Sangjeon-ah, he's created a boy group," Correction, his dad wanted a boy group. Woop de doo. "And you're to be the main rapper."

Sangjeon laughed again. Now he knew Dojung was just kidding. "Ah, hyung, that's not very funny," he said through his chuckles. "You really had me going for a second there. I thought-" Dojung put his hand on Sangjeon's shoulder, his face still not cracking. He had known Sangjeon would react like this because this was not at all a possibility in Sangjeon's mind. His father would never have the nerve to actually do something like this and undermine the acting career that Sangjeon had been so dedicated to, just so Sangjeon could rap in some crappy idol group. He was not going to perform stupid, cutesy songs on stage with a bunch of scantily clad dudes, selling themselves to insane tweens and creepy noonas and doing erted dances. It wasn't going to happen. Ever.

"Sangjeon, I'm not joking. The furniture trucks should be here any minute," and, as if on cue, the bell rang. Dojung left the stunned Sangjeon sitting in the kitchen as he maneuvered through the clean apartment to let the workers in. Within moments, Sangjeon's apartment was over run with people and large boxes full of stylish black-metal bunk beds, comforter sets, pillows, and throw-together closets for the three bedrooms in Sangjeon's condominium while the owner sat despondently on the red bar stool, eyes wide in horror as he came to the slow realization that this was not a dream. "It's not so bad," Dojung said as he joined him again at the marble island counter, grabbing a banana out of the metal bowl of fruit in the center of the counter. Sangjeon sent him a wry look.

"I don't know about you, but the thought of sharing my house and my bathroom with... how many members?"

"Five, not including you," Dojung answered promptly around a large bite of banana. Sangjeon scowled.

"The thought of sharing a bathroom with five other guys is highly unappealing. Not to mention the fact that I fu-"

"Language," Dojung reminded, a force of habit considering Sangjeon often blurted out random curse words on set and that was frowned upon in their culture. Dojung was always on his toes about correcting the boy's speech, ever vigilant in the fight against ruining his flawless reputation.

Sangjeon glowered at him, "Not to mention the fact that I really hate idol groups and have no desire to be an idol what so ever."

Dojung shrugged, taking another bite of the stolen banana as he mulled over that bit of information, and how he should respond. At one point in time, Sangjeon loved music. He wanted to dedicate his life to music and to singing, even if it meant selling his soul in the form of a contract to a company like SM. But after his mother passed on, he had absolutely no interest in music-- probably because he shoved those dreams deep down inside himself and immersed himself fully in his work. He knew why Sangjeon was against this, but he also knew that Sangjeon really didn't have much of a choice and it would be easier if he just agreed and stopped grumbling about it. " then, doesn't it?" he said, his voice mild. "Your dad sunk a lot of money into this company, and these trainees have already been selected. They risked their current jobs to join this project. If you back out, your dad loses a lot of money and they potentially lose their careers. Do you want to be responsible for that?"

Sangjeon winced at the harshness underneath Dojung's mild tone. Although Dojung was usually quite easy going, he rarely put up with any nonsense when it came to business. If Sangjeon was being difficult, Dojung knew just what to say to snap him back in line. Sangjeon hated feeling like a scolded child, but Dojung always made him feel small and even foolish when he scolded him. To hide his flaring temper and embarrassment, he grabbed an apple and began rubbing the red skin with his shirt, trying to fight the red tint to his face. He really hated being scolded like a child. After he was sure his voice was steady and his face was blank, he set the apple back in the bowl. "Whatever, hyung," he grumbled, promptly exiting the room to fight the hurt and irritance that was raging through his body.

He was going to have to have a long chat with his dad about this later, but for now he just wanted to go back to sleep.