Okay, so because I apparently can't let go of things, especially when they're characters I'm obsessed with, I wrote this thing when it popped into my head. It's a series of drabbles of Ken after he becomes an idol after Leo is arrested. Feel free to reread the whole story (and leave a comment also) to refresh your memory since it's been a while.

Hope you guys like it! 

~ ELF

PS the song that Ken mentions right at the beginning is the one he sang on the show The Last Song and it's amazing, so check it out if you haven't seen it already!

PPS I also rewrote the part from the epilogue where Ken speaks on Strong Heart, so yes, it's different than before. 

PPPS Okay I'm done, you can go read it now =)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My name is Lee Jaehwan, I’m 17 years old, and I’ll be singing Goodbye For Now, by MC the Max.”

In the back of his mind, Ken noted how fitting the title of his chosen song was, considering the events of recent weeks. It had only been three since Leo had been officially convicted and imprisoned of the murder of Kwon Jiyong. The last he had seen of his friend was when he had turned his head just as they were about to lead him away.   His hands had been shackled in front of him, thin wrists matching the way he looked as if he’d lost twenty pounds since that night in the alleyway, just as pale at the trial as he had been in the moonlight, his skin looking pale and washed out, contrasting with the navy blue of his prison jumpsuit. Ken had just watched him being led away and didn’t look away from Leo’s dark gaze even as N turned his head to the floor next to him, unable to look for a second longer.

Ahjumma had forbidden them to go to the trial, but Ravi was the only one who obeyed. N, Ken, and Hongbin had sat discreetly in the back as Leo was sentenced to 25 years in prison with possibility of parole.

Ken held the microphone tightly in his slightly sweaty hand, his thumb rubbing over the spot where one of Hongbin’s hot tears had splashed into it when Leo had finally turned away. It was this that gave him the courage to lift the mic to his lips and begin singing before the panel of judges.

He was signing a contract with Jellyfish Entertainment two weeks later.

“We need the signature of your parent or guardian right here, Jaehwan-ah.” The voice belonged to the stranger who would become Ken’s manager. Ken felt an instinctive need to pull away from the man, who he knew would come to know him better than anyone—he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone doing such a thing. He resisted the urge to back away from the endearment at the end of his name as he pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket.

“She’s already signed it,” he said quietly, holding it out with two hands. “She’s signed over her guardianship and all responsibility for me and my actions.”

The manager gave him a slightly sympathetic look; Ken had been forced to tell them for obvious reasons about his home situation, but he had begged them that, in the event of his debut, no one else know or find out. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, sympathy, or power over him, knowing his background and using it to exploit him.

Just look where that had gotten Hyuk.

Ken took the pen the manager held out to him and shakily signed his name at the bottom.

*          *          *

“I think we’ll have to come up with a stage name for you, Jaehwan-ah.” The CEO, Hwang Seojoon, leaned back in his chair. “Do you have any suggestions? We can give you one, of course, but I’d like to hear what you have to say.”

Ken was tempted to allow the company to rename him and debut him to the world, but something stopped the words from leaving his throat. It was a singer’s duty to reveal himself to the crowds, to expose his deepest and rawest emotions in order to portray feelings that would otherwise be unexpressed.

To Ken, his nickname was his identity. It was the name only his closest friends knew him by. As much as it would be relieving to allow himself a new name courtesy of the company that now owned his life, he would be shirking his duty as a singer—that name would never feel right.

I’m so sorry. I’m giving up our secret. Please forgive me. Somehow, he felt that if Leo knew what he was doing, he would give him one of his I’m-very-unimpressed-with-you looks.

But he still opened his lips to say “Ken. I want to be called Ken.”

*          *          *

Ken watched his debut teaser video on the big screen outside SBS one evening. He had his earbuds in and plugged into his mp3, but he knew the audio of his teaser by heart.

A dramatic entrance. A brand new idol, a solo singer, whose identity remained unknown until he sprang into being on Earth, ready to make his mark amongst the inhabitants of the planet. No one would ever know where he came from.

This was the image he would cultivate and carefully maintain.

No one must know.

For all intents and purposes, Ken was an 18-year-old boy who would be debuted to the world as a singer with a beautiful, soulful voice capable of reaching notes most could not. A boy with a charismatic grin, irresistible charm, and an outgoing personality incapable of being serious, whether he was showing off his animal noises or his disgustingly cute aegyo, it didn’t matter who he was or where he came from.

He could be anything he wanted to be. And that was the most liberating feeling of all.

                                                            *          *          *

Variety shows, reality shows, music shows, sitcoms—no one could say that Ken’s life was dull. In no time at all he had thousands of fans screaming his name as he beamed in delight at them from the big screens behind him on stage.

He’d toured Asia, been to South America, gone to North America, and was met by screaming and sobbing girls and boys alike, holding signs and hoping to catch his eye before he disappeared into his car at the airport with a last wave and his signature cheeky grin. Ken had never been happier.

He could always be counted on for a light quip, a random scream, breaking into song, shameless promoting, and flawless performing. Throughout it all there were his loyal fans, whom he was privileged to meet at high-touch events, fan cafes, and meetings on the street.

And yet, with all the fans screaming his name, it was the four voices who whispered it quietly that really meant the world to him.

N had attended almost all of his variety show recordings, usually managing to catch Ken’s eye and give him a small smile before exiting at the end.

Hongbin would call him every once in a while to catch up when he felt in the mood of talking. Often he would just leave a message, saying that just hearing Ken’s voice on his voicemail was good enough and he didn’t have to call him back. He always did though.

Ravi was busy with college and exams, but they would occasionally meet up for coffee. He’d caught him at one of his recordings, but never told him.

And Leo...

Ken would never admit to anybody the shame he felt that he had never gone to visit his friend. N went faithfully every week and assured him on a regular basis that Leo was not upset, that he was proud of him for all he had accomplished. Ken always meant to go see him, but things were just too busy...

Yes, the screams of his fans were wonderful. But the whispers of his friends were his lifeblood.

*          *          *

“My hero partner! Please come out!!”

From behind the curtain at Running Man, Ken grinned when he heard Lee Kwangsoo’s slightly muffled voice calling for him. The curtains swished open with a flourish and he lifted his head and grinned at Kwangsoo, who now looked visibly disappointed.

Yoo Jaesuk burst out laughing. “It’s Ken-ssi!”

Ken gave a dramatic bow and linked arms with a dumbfounded Kwangsoo. “I’m your hero today, hyung.” He led the two of them to the rest of the group and greeted the other members and guests of Running Man. While it was true that he wasn’t particularly athletic, he could hold his own in the fun and games of the variety show.

And everyone was surprised when he and Kwangsoo managed to score second place in the first two obstacle course relay races. He and his partner high fived until his hands were red and his cheeks hurt from laughing so hard for so long.

They broke for lunch and the entire group, laughing and chattering, all thoughts of competition forgotten, headed into the makeshift cafeteria to retrieve their food. Ken reached into his bag for his phone, where he had deposited it before the recording started.

He was about to take his first hungry bite when he noticed the text from N.

Kicked puppy. Call as soon as you can.

Ken felt his heart sink into his shoes. Kicked puppy was code for extreme emergency, stemming from that one time when he was a kid and witnessed a drunk kicking a stray dog. N had declared that to be the worst crime in human history and it had become their code for crises.

He laid his chopsticks down and excused himself a little ways away from the table to call his hyung.

“Hello?”

“N-hyung? What’s wrong? What happened?” He heard a choked sob from the other end and clutched his phone tightly against his cheek. “N-hyung, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Ken-ah. I really don’t know how to tell you this.” N’s voice was becoming shakier as he tried to calm himself down. “Ken...it’s Hongbin.”

Ken instantly felt his face drain of color. “What do you mean?” He whispered.

“I got a call from Ahjumma this morning. She said the police had called her and she thought I should know. Oh my G-d Ken...they found him in the bathtub.”

“W...what do you mean they found him in the bathtub?”

“Ken-ssi, your food is getting cold!” Song Jihyo called from the table. Ken turned to face them and her smile became uncertain.

“Be right there.” He managed to call back in what he hoped was a normal voice.

“Ken-ah, Hongbin’s gone.”

Ken felt the strength leave his legs and he staggered for a moment, his phone clattering onto the cement ground. He bent to pick it up and stayed down, feeling his eyes pooling and his chin wobbling pathetically. Oh G-d he couldn’t break down here...not now.

He was instantly surrounded by the well-meaning cast and crew of the show. Someone picked up his phone and handed it back to him; he checked to make sure it was still working and slipped it into his pocket, noticing as he did that he had a voicemail from the night before he must have forgotten to listen to.

“Ken-ssi, is everything all right?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Here, let me help you up.”

Ken wiped his eyes on his shoulder before he was helped to his feet, and a tornado of emotions swirled through him. Hongbin couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t. Okay. That was how he was going to get through the rest of the recording. Hongbin was on vacation and that was it, he told himself firmly.

He blew his nose on the napkin that someone handed him and attempted to smile. He suspected he failed miserably.

“Sorry about that. Just got some...some bad news from home, but it’s all right. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

The episode was edited cleverly when it aired several weeks later, but looking closely the careful viewer could see just how distracted Ken was for the rest of the day.

*          *          *

His next single was a series of firsts.

The first single after Hongbin’s death. The first song he wrote himself after coming home from the funeral, titled Sweet Angel, a ballad. The first album to sell over ten million copies nationwide. The first time he won number one. The first time he topped the music charts for two weeks straight. The first time he felt really and truly alone in the world.

What he didn’t tell the world was the contents of the voicemail left on his phone he’d forgotten to listen to before the Running Man recording. What he didn’t tell anyone was that this was the first time he didn’t call Hongbin back. The first time he let him down. The last time that Hongbin had sounded so thoroughly depressed on his voicemail.

What if he had called him back that night?

*          *          *

Ken leaned against the wall backstage at the Strong Heart recording. Two comebacks forward from his breakthrough and he had become one of the most popular soloists and up and coming actor in Korea. His heart was pounding through his shirt and he thought anyone looking at him could see it through the thin fabric.

He ran a hand through his light brown hair, aimed at giving him a more youthful appearance. This comeback had been more cheerful, fun, and boyish, and the fans had loved every minute of it.

This recording, however, was going to be different. It would be reminiscent of the promotion period when he really became popular. Today, he was going to reveal where he came from.

He didn’t know what motivated him to do it. His predebut life was something that had been hotly debated ever since his first teaser broadcasted. Other idols had pictures and stories from their childhoods; Ken had none. He’d heard every sort of theory imaginable from all across the world, and yet no one had managed to hit on the truth. He’d heard he was the son of mobsters, the son of beggars, the ghost of a child sacrifice, you name it he’d heard it, and they never failed to make him laugh at the pure absurdity.

Before he knew it, he was on stage between two members of Big Bang, behind a couple SNSD girls, and in front of several Super Junior members.

The other stories whizzed by and then Kang Hodong was yelling his name and the studio rang with applause. The chalkboard next to him read ‘my mysterious past,’ something that had been teased throughout the recording.

“So, Ken-ssi, where to begin?” Ken laughed as Lee Seunggi shook his head dramatically. “The world has been speculating about your background for seven years and now you’re finally going to tell us. Don’t hold out now!”

Ken wiggled his fingers. “Now, you know that I would never do that. As a matter of fact, I’ll bare all here and tell you that my mother was a beggar and my father was a mobster! I’ll tell you all the ins and outs of begging for money and then using it to buy on the black market.” He waited for the appreciative laughter to calm and accepted a pat on the back from Donghae of Super Junior.

When the studio was quiet he began again. “Well, it’s hard to know where to begin. I’ve kept my life quiet since I debuted, and now it’s going to be difficult to reveal where I really came from.”

“You’re sure you’re not from Mars?” Leeteuk asked. Ken laughed and shook his head, quipping that it was EXO who was from outer space, before becoming serious for the first time. The studio gradually quieted down and he began again.

“Well I guess there’s no other way to say it.” He hesitated for a millimeter of a second, preserving the last instant of his secret. “I am an orphan. I never knew who my parents were; I was abandoned when I was a baby.”

For a moment, it looked as if everyone thought he was kidding again and a few chuckles broke out from the audience, and some of the other guests had small smiles on their faces as well. But when Ken didn’t smile or wink or call them out on it, they became as serious as he. Before beginning, Ken scanned the crowd for N, feeling like it would be appropriate for him to be there, but he didn’t see him. For some reason, this made him slightly more scared to continue.

“I grew up in a group home for boys. I can’t say it was a particularly nice place or a warm place, but it was home. It was a roof over my head, three meals a day, and contained five of the best friends I’ve ever known. For me, that was all I needed.”

For some reason, it felt almost therapeutic, saying these things out loud for the first time, albeit on national TV.

“My friends were my family, we were all each other had. We had our hard times and our arguments and our fights but in the end we had to love each other because if we didn’t, what else could we do? I don’t think I could have ever met such a loyal bunch of idiots in my life.” Ken let out a chuckle and the others seemed to take that as permission to laugh as well. It was clear that no one had expected this sort of admission, and yet they were all riveted to his story.

Ken regaled them with select bits (very select) of his childhood in a group home, a situation which not a single other person in the room had any prior knowledge in. He told them how Hongbin and Hyuk had interviewed them with spoons, being MCs for the day. He laughed when he told of how he and N got their heads stuck in the railings of the stairs and Ahjumma had had to call the fire department to get them out. They laughed as he told them how long his punishment had been for the time he took the blame for Leo when he stayed out all night.

“Why don’t you make a video message for them?” Kang Hodong suggested after several minutes. Ken had to clear his thoughts for a moment before finding the right camera. He had to swallow before he could talk.

“N-hyung, Leo-hyung, Ravi-ah. Hongbin-ah, Hyuk-ah,” his voice cracked on the final two names, the first time he’d said any of them during all his stories. The studio was silent as a cathedral during prayers.

“I...I know we’ve had our hardships in life. Sometimes our hand of cards in the game didn’t favor us, you know? But I don’t think I could have gotten to where I am if you hadn’t been stumbling along through life with me, and I don’t think I’d have had it any other way. Two of you are no longer with us, but I think of you and miss you every single day. Leo-hyung...I promise to come see you soon, okay? I hope you forgive me for not coming sooner. I love you all, no matter what happened in the past.”

Ken released a shaky breath as he finished and knew the camera was still focused on him, waiting for him to break down, knowing there were many unspoken details of the past that he was not sharing.

“This is a side we’ve never seen from you, Ken-ssi.” Lee Seunggi joked from the MC desk and Ken had never felt more grateful for a distraction as he wiped his eyes discreetly on his sleeve when the camera lost interest in him.

*          *          *

The guard at the gate stared openly at Ken, his mouth dangling open comically as he collected his keys and phone and passed him through the metal detector. Ken flashed his famous smile at him before continuing through the hallway into the large, brightly lit room filled with tables and men in navy blue jumpsuits.

He was in the back, hands folded on the table in front of him, waiting for his visitor. As Ken walked toward him, he felt more nervous than he had even by the Strong Heart recording several months previously. For some reason, Leo’s approval was something he’d always strived for and rarely received.

He felt dark eyes on his face for the first time since the trial and he forced himself to keep staring straight ahead at his destination. Or rather, the wall behind his destination. He knew Leo was confused; his visitor was always N at visiting hours once a week.

He reached the isolated table in the back and just stood there for a moment and they looked at each other. The only part of Leo that had moved were his eyes, which were taking in every detail of Ken after they widened in surprise at his visitor.

“Hi Leo.” Ken said quietly. “It’s good to see you.”

N had told him about the time limit for extended contact—five seconds. He held out his arms and waited.

After an excruciating minute, Leo stood and allowed Ken to embrace him.

And that was the only approval Ken ever needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So that was my overdramatic word vomit that came to me at midnight. I hope you enjoyed! Hit me up with some comments, and maybe keep an eye out on this story -- you never know when inspiration will strike again...

Until then, 

~ELF