When manager hyung drops him off at his apartment that night Kris thinks he is not tired- he is beyond tired. It’s the kind of bone deep fatigue that clings to your marrow and sits heavy on your chest and makes your eyes droop with a lot more than just mere drowsiness.  He throws his keys and his phone on the coffee table and is ready to curl up in bed and sleep for the next century but something yellow catches his eyes and he backtracks faster than you can say “gum smile”. He pokes at his pile of fan mail and a yellow envelope with a clumsily drawn alpaca in a corner slides from underneath a horrid pink one. He recognizes the neat hanja that spells out his name on it so well.

Yellow letter days are always good days. Sasaengs clutching at him outside the company building, the grueling hours spent in front of a mirror trying to tame his clumsy, long limbs into some grace and the endless line of people telling him what to do and who to be seems to always fade away when he sits down with a paper with smudged ink on calm yellow.  

The writer tells him things that happened to him since the last time he wrote to Kris. He rambles on about the dog he nearly ran over the other day in a hurry. The ajhumma at the vegetable stand who winks outrageously at him, the girl at work who might either hate his guts or have a crush on him (he can’t really tell) and about how he thinks words are more beautiful than the night in Seoul. As Kris reads on he feels a little bit normal than before, a little less frazzled around the edges.

He reads until he falls asleep with the letter clutched in long fingers and he thinks he is a little bit in love.

He remembers that first letter so well. It had caught his attention out of the huge pile sitting on his coffee table. There had been a startling lack of garish and shiny hearts and stars and coy, curly writing on it and the envelop itself was not an obnoxious pink as all the rest were. It was a pale yellow, silent and serene and had looked like a piece of calm amidst a sea of chaos.

“I remember the first time I saw you. It was on a TV screen in a Hongdae electronics shop. Your hair was so blonde and your eyes were so tired. ‘chicken nae style aniya’ was the first thing I ever heard you say. I didn’t like you.

One week ago I was walking past the Mnet studio and I could barely get past for the crowd. There were girls of all shapes and sizes in the longest line I have ever seen in real life- all with banners or sweaters that said your name. But I knew it was too early, it was two days before your comeback, I had seen the previews enough on TV to know this. But there they were, all those fangirls, in this freezing November weather armed with nothing but a few flimsy winter coats and cup ramyeon and so much love for you. That was the first time I ever really looked at you, or rather your posters on the road. I wanted to know what kind of person inspires that kind of intense love and devotion in so many other people.

So I sat down one night with my dinner and started to watch your videos one by one-from debut till now. The heating in my room was not working properly and my kimchi was too salty.  But by the time midnight rolled around I was fascinated. Because I knew that all those interviews, talk shows, reality TV, music videos, concerts and fan accounts didn’t even come close to describing who you really are. ”

Kris had turned the page every which way and shaken apart the envelop trying to look for the rest of the letter-because that couldn’t be all right? There had to be more. Kris wanted to know. He couldn’t remember the last time he got a fan letter that wasn’t a love confession, a marriage proposal or hurtful insults. This, though, he had no idea what this letter was. It was not critical or adoring it was just….just a letter. Kris was fascinated, too.

“Kris! come over here.” Kris looks up from where he had been crouching on the ground. Amber had gotten a new pair of Chuck Taylors and was showing them off to Kris proudly and she would accept nothing but full, on-his-knees kind of admiration for the shoes. And Kris had always had a soft spot for Amber.

“Shin’s temporary replacement is coming today. I need you get on his good side and stay on it ok.”

“But why do I even need translator. My Korean in ok.” Kris whines at him. Kris is not that good of dealing with new people when he is not on stage and it had taken months for Kris and Shin noona to fall into a comfortable rhythm.

“Oh, please, two days ago you told the head of KBS world that ‘you would kill his dog to scratch his nose because it was itching’. When he asked you how you like the new time slot for the new music show you MC at.” EunHyuk hyung deadpans. He really needs to stop hanging out with Kyungsoo, Kris thinks. “I mean I would have been ok if that made the tiniest bit sense. But…. Until you get your Korean from Level 'Embarrassing' to Level 'Passable' you have to deal with the translator following you around.”

Kris controls the urge to stick his tongue out at EunHyuk- but only because SHINee is doing a new reality show these days and he doesn’t want to accidently get caught on one of their cameras.

Shin  noona’s replacement has eyes like shiny marbles and his hair reminds him of little Minseokkie’s, Chanyeol’s sisters baby. It’s fluffy and a bit messed up as if he ran all the way up here from the lobby, late for the meeting, with his hands clutched around a briefcase and his tie askew.  He is also staring at him with eyes wide with wonderment and Kris is a little more than uncomfortable with this. He is used to that look in the eyes of fans but not in people who work with him, who are used to seeing idols 24/7. There is something about the awed look of amazements currently on the new translator’s doll-like face that makes Kris feel hot underneath the collar of his dress shirt.

Manager hyung is momentarily distracted with a few of SNSD members who walk past giggling in tiny shorts and Kris is left to stare back awkwardly at the other’s face for the lack of proper introductions to make up for the silence.

He finally clears his throat and Manager hyung’s head swivels back in his direction.

“Isn’t…Isn’t