He took me straight to his apartment. It was like I expected; luxurious yet homey. It was a lot like you see on TV in those reality shows, or even movies sometimes. There was the main bedroom, his bedroom, then another guest bedroom.

The living room, the first room you walk into, had a nice TV, and two couches. The kitchen was just through a door ahead, and the hallway to the left; that lead to the two bedrooms and a bathroom.

It was nice, and probably expensive. He chuckled, and I knew it was because of my shocked look.

“It’s like you’ve never seen an apartment before,” He rolled his eyes as he sat on one of the two couches.

I shook my head, “No, I’ve never seen an idol’s apartment. You do know you have a higher pay than most people?”

“I guess I do,” Junhyung shrugged, he reached for the remote and switched on the remote.

I sat on the other couch, and watched with him, my bag on the floor next to me. It was quiet, until he spoke again, “Nicknames.”

“What?” I look back at him from the TV, which was airing a very interesting variety show.

“Nicknames,” Junhyung repeated, “Couples give each other nicknames, right?”

“Not all the time,” I shook my head, “Why, do you want a nickname?”

“I’m just trying to find ways to make this…thing convincing,” Junhyung shrugged, “But it makes me curious, what kind of nickname would you give me?”

“Hmmm,” I thought over it, tapping my chin with my pointer finger, “I know! Mr. Glasses Man.”

“Mr. Glasses Man?” He raised and eyebrow and shook his head, “Why that nickname?”

I shrugged, and pointed to my eyes. He followed the gesture, and felt the frame of his glasses under his touch, “Your glasses.”

“How creative,” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. I smiled, and shrugged.

“Then what about me?” I asked, “Since you think you can do better.”

“I could,” He said, then looked as if he was thinking over it. He smirked and gave me a smug look, ok now I’m curious.

“What?” I ask, honestly I was curious about the nickname, but the way he looked…he looked like a erted old man to me.

He leaned back into the couch and sighed, relaxing. I pouted, and he teased, “I’m not telling you.”

“I told you,” I say, “I demand to know!”

He got up and walked to the kitchen. I was shocked, but quickly stood up and followed him. The kitchen was small; the basic cabinets, counter, and sink, plus refrigerator and microwave was at one side of the room. The pantry at another, and a small table with four seats at the side nearest the door.

“Do you want something to eat?” He asked, rummaging through the pantry. He took out two packs of instant curry.

“Don’t change the subject!” I whine, “I want to know!”

“I’m hungry,” He snickered, and continued to work on making the curry, I just stood close watching him.

“Well…” I sighed, I guess it could wait, “What can I do to help?”

“Why not set the table? The dishes are there,” He said, pointing towards a cabinet, “Utensils are in the drawer over there too.”

“Ok,” I nodded, looking through the cabinet, taking out two small bowls.

Junhyung nodded, “Thank you, Little Miss Pouty Face.”