Hanul’s POV

I had taken a bus to Seoul, a place where I had only good memories. If I had to choose a place to live, it would be here. Beautiful Seoul. And the public transportation system was very convenient compared to rural areas. I decided to start by looking for a job here.
I was immediately distracted by the street vendors selling delicious Korean food, but four detours later, I stopped in front of a building that said: HIRING DANCE INSTRUCTOR! ONLY AVAILABLE FOR THREE TWO ONE DAYS!!! I immediately looked at the Business Hours. I had five minutes left.
I sprinted inside, and punched the elevator button, frantically ran down the hallways, shoes screeching, until I realized I didn’t know where to go. -.-

….. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Hey. What the hell did you do to the floor?”

I turned to see a man with black hair and heavy features. His eyes were small but smoldering, and his voice was deep and somewhat… appealing. He seemed much more mature than me, and somewhat frightening. I couldn’t deny his charisma though. He was weirdly attractive, like the expensive painting you want to poke to see if it’s authentic, but you’re afraid you’ll damage it. Oh wait, he was talking to me.
“I said what did you do to the floor?”
I looked down. These were rubber skid marks all over the place from my shoes.
He seemed angry and I felt guilty, but I only had- checked my watch- two minutes left.
“Where’s the main registration office?”, I interrupted.  

Yeah, I knew what I was looking for… this wasn’t the first time I had been in this type of building. Somehow it was very familiar.
“Level 4, Room 232.”, he answered, eyebrow raised.
“Thanks, Ahjussi!”
“Ahjussi?! I’m not an ahjussi.”

“Yes, Ahjussi.”
 Stop calling me that!”

“Yes, ahjussi. I mean, yeah, dude!” I randomnly saluted and ran. My only focus was to get that job.
“HEY! COME BACK! HEYY!”

I tried to acknowledge him, to tell him I’d come back, but instead I did the stupidest thing. I waved, like I was taunting him to come and catch me.
Which he responded to by chasing me.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
 

Taecyeon’s POV
We had all just come back from the gym, and we were exhausted. Jaebum had called the shower at the expense of doing laundry, but I was too tired too care. I just barely managed to throw my jacket and jeans into the laundry basket before flopping down on the couch. Except for one problem.. Someone was already on the couch.
“Taecyeon, it’s hot, get your off my face. You smell. ”, Nickhun said.
I shifted my to his stomach, sitting down hard, so that I heard an “oof” from Nickhun.
“Taecyeon, go away, this is my spot… Why does it smell?”
Oho, since when had this been "his" spot?
“What, did something precious happen on this couch?” I said teasingly, but I was picturing this morning in my head.
“Yeah, I farted on it.”, Chansung said from out of nowhere.
“Ugh!”, Nickhun shoved me off of him and rolled off the couch.
“Chansung, you’re so gross”, I said, honestly and truly disgusted and also somewhat impressed at his level of grossness.
“We had bean rice the night before! I told you I don’t like beans.”, Chansung retorted.
“You said that you don’t like them, you didn’t warn us that they set off your inner destructive nuclear power!”, Nickhun said.
“Well, we are the Beast Idols.”, Chansung said sheepishly.
“What happened?”, Junho said, making his way to the couch.
“No, don’t! Chansung farted on it!” I grabbed his feet before he could enter the zone of destructive chemical gas.
 “Chansung! That’s our only chair!”, Junho scolded, “Now we’re all going to have to sit on the floor!”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Junsu, who was closest to the door, opened it.

A very, very, very familiar man was standing on our door.
“Good evening, may I step in for a bit?”

None of us budged. A random person entering our house? No way.
“I’m an old friend of Park Hanul”, the person explained. “I knew her when she lived here three and a half years ago.”
“Oh, Hanul’s not here right now.”, Junsu explained.
“Right now? As in, she lives here?” the person asked, looking skeptical.
“She’s Jaebum’s sister”, Wooyoung quickly said from the back. The man smiled, as if he had confirmed something he had hoped would be true. Junsu sent a warning look at this person. I looked at this new person warily. A scandal was not what we needed right now.  
“Is she your sister?”, the man asked, staring Wooyoung down.

Wooyoung pushed us aside and walked to the front so that he was standing chest-to-chest with this man. Wooyoung matched him eye for eye and said protectively, “Yeah. She is.” The man smirked again, and said,“YG can’t afford another scandal, so do be careful. I would hate it if this got out… especially if Park Hanul were to get famous again. She might… return to America.”
“Who are you?”, Nickhun asked, rather aggressively.
The man smirked yet again, gave us a business card, and promptly left. But before he left, he said one thing, “And boys, do open the windows. It does smell something dreadful.”
, I thought. But everyone else turned to look at Chansung.

“Who is he?”, Nickhun asked, and took the card from Wooyoung, who looked deeply troubled and didn’t stop staring at his hand even though Nickhun had snatched the card from his hand.
I peered over Nickhun’s shoulder.

Park Soo-Man
President of SM ENTERTAINMENT

254.546.4253. #561.234.4642.

Seoul. Hong Kong.
[Don't call! They're random numbers! ><]

Wait, what? The President of SM Entertainment? No wonder he looked so familiar! And wait… that text… from Hanul’s phone! OH ! Hanul’s phone!  I sprinted to the laundry room, tripping over several things on my way. I really didn’t care. I wrenched open the laundry door.  
“JAEBUM, YOU DIDN’T START-!”

“What?”, Jaebum said, looking clueless.
He had.
He had started the laundry.

With my pants in it.

With Hanul’s phone in it.
 

*Just to clarify: In this fanfic, 2pm is managed by JYP Entertainment, Big Bang is managed by YG Entertainment, BoA is managed by SM Entertainment, and Hanul used to be managed by SM Entertainment. The SM President is named Park Soo Man in this fanfic. (:

 Thank you for all your support! ^^ It brightens up my day.