I keenly watched the black rubber tire as it glided over the asphalt beneath it. The once-black road was now cracked and worn, wearing a gray suit, run-down thousands of times over by tires exactly like the one attached to the big white van I was traveling in. Dad was talking on the little Bluetooth piece that had practically grown out of his left ear. He was on the phone with his younger brother, my uncle Sunho. My father was scrolling through his Blackberry, which had practically grown out of his right hand. Sometimes my mom and I joke that his Bluetooth and Blackberry were never purchased, and weren’t gadgets at all; they were actually extremities that had naturally grown from my father’s body. That was our way of teasing him about the amount of time he spent using them. But, due to his job, he’s got a lot to manage.

                Mom’s dark eyes shifted from the gray road ahead of her to the mirror. “You excited?”

                “Yes,” I chirped, unafraid to wipe the smile off my face. It had been so long since I’d last seen him. I couldn’t help but be excited. Had he gotten any taller? Probably not. Did he voice get deeper? Probably not. Did he still hum Big Bang’s “Sunset Glow” all the time? Probably. Was he approximately twenty minutes away from me at this very moment? Absolutely.

                My grin was visible all the way from Andromeda, which made my mom chuckle. “It’ll be nice seeing Byunghun again.”

                “It’s been too long,” I sighed, gazing pensively out the window.

                “It’s only been a month,” my mom giggled.

                “I know.” I looked back at her. “That’s too long.”

                “Shhh, please, I’m in the middle of something very important and I can barely hear Sunho,” my dad pleaded. He adjusted the Bluetooth in his hear and went back to scrolling away on his Blackberry.

                “Yes, dear,” my mom replied politely, but by the look of the smiling eyes reflected in the mirror, I knew she had so much more to say.

                What felt like an hour later, but was really only three minutes, Dad’s Audi veered into a wide parking lot, which was smack in the middle of what seemed like a dozen skyscrapers. The second the Audi slowed as my mom looked out for a parking space, I unbuckled my seat belt.

                “Easy, sweetie, we’re not ready to get out just yet,” my mom giggled.

                “Just hurry up and park! Quick!” I hissed, smoothing out my shoulder-length hair and running my hands down my dark wash jeans. I tried to smooth the creases of the flowy white tunic the seatbelt had left, and I picked some invisible lint off the caramel colored leather jacket I had thrown over my tunic. I highly doubted he would care if my shirt was a little wrinkled or if there was lint on my jacket, but it was our first time meeting in a month and I wanted to give him more incentive to use his usual greeting; “Hey there, beautiful!”

                art of me resented my uncle for keeping Teen Top so busy for a month, and part of me resented my teachers for keeping me busy for a month. With Teen Top’s comeback scheduled, I barely had time to even call Byunghun let alone go out him—honestly we couldn’t even do that, because Teen Top had gained a significant number of fans and he was bound to be noticed.

                Especially with that hot pink hair.

                The second my mom parked, I flung the car door open and popped out. A rush of cool Seoul air greeted me, and I shivered slightly, pushing my scarf up closer to my face. Luckily it wasn’t snowing, which was unusual for a day this cold in January.

                “You should have worn a warmer jacket,” my mom hissed when she saw me shiver.

                “Mom, it’s not that cold,” I retorted. I was wearing a cream colored knit scarf and caramel colored Ugg boots; I was plenty warm. “I have to look cute, anyway!”

                “Let’s hurry, please,” my father said eagerly, buttoning his coat. “Sunho’s waiting for me and we have an awful lot to discuss.”

                “Yes! Let’s hurry!” I cried, tugging on my mom’s arm. The three of us made our way across the paved parking lot and around a big tall gray building. My heart quickened at the sight of the building; he was in there, waiting for me.

                My dad pushed the big glass doors opened and we crossed the lobby, nodding as a greeting to the secretary at the desk. I vigorously pressed the “Up” button on the elevator.

                “Relax, relax!” my mom giggled.

                “No, Mom, I have to see him as soon as possible,” I hissed as we stepped into the elevator. It slowly ascended upwards twelve floors, until it finally came to a halt. When the doors finally opened, my family and I stepped out and strolled (I power-walked) down the hall and took a left, then a right, then another left until we reached a big white door marked CONFERENCE ROOM 3C.

                “Now, hang on, I should probably check with Sunho to make sure it’s ok—” my dad started, but I didn’t listen. I pushed the door open. Inside the room, five boys were seated at a circular room, eating noodles and kimbap out of containers. They each looked up and smiles spread across their faces.

                “…Or not,” Dad sighed. He looked at my mom for support, but she just shrugged and smiled.

                “HI NOONA!” Jonghyun cried, waving his hands in their air.

                “KIRIN-AH, YOU’RE HERE!” Changhyun beamed excitedly.

                “BYUNGHUN-AH!” Chanhee and Minsoo cried at the same time.

                “LEE BYUNGHUN-AHHH!” Daniel shouted as well.

                My mom let out a hearty laugh. “We’ll leave you here, alright?”

                I nodded excitedly, wondering where Byunghun was. He wasn’t at the table eating with the other five guys.

                My mom kissed the top of my head. “Hi boys! Bye boys! See you later!”

                “BYE MRS. LEE!” the five cried.

                “Kirin, come sit d—” Minsoo started, but everyone’s attention turned to the doorway across the room.

                Standing in the doorway, no taller than 171 centimeters, was Byunghun. His sleek, straight hair that was once platinum blonde was now hot pink—and I mean hot pink. He was dressed casually in white socks, black skinny jeans, a loose yellow Hurley t-shirt with a graphic design of a snowboarder, and a black and white checkered hat in his hand. He wore no stage clothes, no stage makeup, and smiled a genuine, beautiful white smile.

                “Hey there, beautiful!” Byunghun cried, like he always did. He jerked his head to flip his head of bright pink hair, slapped the cap on his head and ran over to engulf me in a hug, like he always did. The second I felt his arms around me I felt at ease. He held me tightly, like he always did, and I buried my head in his shoulder, like I always did.

                “Awwh,” Minsoo and Chanhee cooed.

                “Yah, yah,” Byunghun said, mid-hug. When the hug ended, he kept an arm slung over my shoulder. “How long have you been waiting?”

                “Not long. I just got here,” I replied, with a huge smile. A smile spread across his lips and he bit his lip, like he always does. “Come sit down. Are you hungry?”

                “Not really, I ate on the way.” I replied.

                “Well five me about five minutes to eat something quick and we’ll go somewhere. Alright?” Byunghun said, his eyes shining. He spoke the sentence in Korean but said “alright” in English, like he always does.

                “Where are we going?” I giggled.

                “Well…how’s a walk around the building sound?” he offered a weak smile, as if that was the best he could do and he was sorry it wasn’t good enough.

                “Don’t worry about it, it sounds like fun,” I smiled.

                Byunghun grinned and kissed my forehead. “Sit down, sit down!” he urged, pushing me forward.

                I took a seat between Jonghyun and Byunghun. I saw Jonghyun give me a shy smile and I gave him one back. He blushed and continued eating his rice.

                “Minsoo-ah, hyung, pass me the rice,” Byunghun asked, flipping his pink hair.

                “Yes, Prince Charming,” Minsoo giggled, sending the box of rice sliding across the table until it landed in front of the adorable boy who requested it. He took his hat of, flipped his hair, discarded the hat on the middle of the table, again and popped the top on the box, humming softly.

                “Who’s humming?” Chanhee asked innocently.

                “Not me,” Byunghun lied, not looking up. I giggled and punched his thin arm. “Liar.” I jabbed.

                “So how are you, noona?” Jonghyun asked, his smiling eyes shining. I knew Jonghyun had this little crush on me; Chanhee and Byunghun told me that all the time. Considering I was the only girl close to his age who he really knew, I wasn’t surprised. I was nothing special, really—your average looking vertically-challenged Korean-American chick with long dark brown hair, a too-flat nose and too-chubby face. But, Byunghun seemed to find something special in me, and apparently, so did Jonghyun. He, in particular, loved calling me noona. Changhyun called me noona too, and even Niel sometimes did.

                “I’m great, Jonghyun,” I smiled, ruffling his hair. He smiled like a little boy; which he was, in a sense, little. At fifteen, he was the magnae. However, he stood as tall as Daniel and Minsoo, who towered over everyone….especially Changhyun and puny little Byunghun.

                “Are you sure you’re not hungry?” Daniel asked. “There’s tons of food.”

                “I bet she doesn’t wanna eat in front of Byunghun-hyung. Don’t girls do that to boys they like?” Changhyun innocently spoke up.

                Byunghun scoffed. “That’s entirely false. Kirin eats like a pig.”

                “Oh, shut up.” I slapped his arm, as all six boys laughed at Byunhun’s remark. “I hate you sometimes.”

                “You most certainly do not,” Byunghun smirked as he a shoveled in a huge wad of rice.

                “Yes I most certainly do,” I crossed my arms and legs and shot him a fake death glare.

                “I don’t think you’re a pig, noona,” Jonghyun said shyly. He gave a small, sincere smile.

                “Thank you, Jonghyun.” I smiled sweetly at him. I saw Byunghun roll his dark eyes. No one noticed it under the curtain of hot pink, but I did. I always did.

                “Hyung,” Chanhee asked. Sometimes he didn’t say Minsoo’s name—he just said hyung. Being the second oldest, Minsoo was the only one he could possibly be referring to. “How much longer do we have?”

                Minsoo glanced at one of the papers on the table amidst the food. “We have about an hour or so.”

                “We better get going, then,” Byunghun swallowed, pushing his chair away from the table.

                “Are you sure you don’t wanna hang out here?” I asked.

                “Yeah, hyung, you can hang out here with Kirin-noona,” Jonghyun spoke up, his eyes wide.

                “Nah, I think we’re gonna walk around for a little bit. We’ll be back, don’t worry.” Byunghun smiled at Jonghyun, who sadly looked down at his food. “We’ll be back soon, guys,” Byunghun announced to everyone as he slipped on his chunky white shoes. I stood up from the table and walked over by Byunghun, who opened the door for me and placed a hand on my waist as I waved bye to everyone. Everyone shouted goodbye, with the exception of the ever-so mature-Daniel and Chanhee, who were making obnoxious-sounding kissing noises.

                Byunghun shut the door and we started down the hall. “It’s so nice to see you, Kirin.” He smiled as he smoothly laced his fingers between mine. His fingers just felt right between mine. His palm just felt right against mine.

                “So nice to see you too, Byunghun,” I smiled. I loved when he said my name. There was something about the way he said my name that made my stomach do summersaults like an Olympic gymnast.

                “So how’ve you been lately? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Byunghun said, converting the language of our conversation to English. Byunghun liked talking to me in English; probably because it was more natural sounding on my part. I grew up learning English first and Korean second.

                I shrugged. “Pretty good. School’s been going well…I’m taking some hard classes but I think I’ll do just fine in them. Mom’s pressuring me to study more and more.”

Byunghun nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I have tons of schoolwork too. I have to balance school and practice and performing. Gets kind of hard sometimes.”

                “I can imagine,” I said, offering a small smile. Byunghun smiled back. We stopped walking for a bit to gaze out the big windows, which covered the whole wall from floor to ceiling. There was a wonderful view of Seoul out these windows. You could see the snow-covered streets flooded with a sea of dark-haired civilians, cars amidst the traffic on the roads, and numerous sky scrapers and other tall buildings, ornate with billboards and advertisements. The nine pretty faces of SNSD were plastered on two billboards and Big Bang on another.

                “How’s life been for you lately?” I asked, looking up into Byunhun’s dark brown eyes.

                “Oh, you know. The same as always. Wake up early, eat fast, go practice, work out, study, more practice, go to bed really late; same routine every day. Except we’re a lot busier with the comeback and everything.” He unlaced his fingers from mine and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in for a hug. I rested my head on his chest as we stood, gazing at the city below.

                “You’ll be amazing,” I said.

                “We’re trying really hard,” Byunghun said. “Working hard to impress our fans.”

                “Do they like the cotton candy hair?”I giggled, reaching up to touch it. Byunghun’s picky about his hair, but I was always allowed to touch it. Even though the color had been drastically altered, it still felt the same. Smooth, sleek, soft, and straight.

                “I think they like it,” he laughed, reaching up to run his fingers through it. “L.Joe needed a little change. He’s been blonde too long.”

                I laughed and rolled my eyes. Byunghun always spoke of L.Joe as if he was an entirely different person.

                “I liked him blonde,” I said, hugging L.Joe  tightly.

                L.Joe” smiled down at me. “You’re too cute,” he said in Korean. He bent his head down to kiss me. My lips had remained unkissed for a whole month. But we were together now, and as cliché as it sounds, that was all that mattered.

                “I missed you,” Byunghun said between kisses, his forehead against mine.

                “I missed you too. So much,” I said. I kissed him again. Byunghun moved his hands from my hand onto my waist. I was too kissing him to hear the footsteps coming towards us that very second.

                Luckily, Byunghun had heard, because he opened his eyes and immediately shifted his gaze up, taking his lips off mine and his hands off my waist.

                “Hyung, what do you want?” Byunghun asked in Korean.

                “Manager-hyung needs all of us back in the room to get ready for the performance,” Minsoo was standing a few feet away from us. He smirked slightly and his cheeks were faintly blushed. “Sorry to interrupt your, uh, moment.”

                “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Get everyone else ready first, I’ll be there soon,” Byunghun said, his voice cracking slightly. Minsoo shrug-nodded and turned to leave.

                Byunghun turned his attention back to me. “I’m sorry, babe,” he said, looking down at his feet.

                “No, don’t worry about it!” I said, tilting his chin up. “You should get back with the guys, I’d love to see you all dressed up for a performance.”

                “You’re not coming to it?” he asked, sounding a little hurt.

                “I don’t know if I can. Can I?” I asked, biting my lip.

                Byunghun look my hands and held them up between us. “No one has to know about us. No one’s going to find out about us. You’re just going to be another fan in the crowd to everyone else except me.”

                I had to smile at that. Byunghun lifted my hands even further and kissed them both at the same time. “How that sound?” He repeated the last sentence exactly as he does when he performs “Supa Luv”; his voice gets deep and breathy and totally, undeniably y.

                How could I say no to that face? And that voice? “Sounds pretty good.” I giggled.

                “Yee-ah!” he cried, throwing my hands up in the air. He wrapped his skinny arms around me and picked me up, swung me around in a circle and set me back down on the ground.

                “Aish, since when are you strong?” I giggled.

                “Hey, I work out…a little,” Byunghun replied, flexing for me. Out of his fatless bicep bulged a tiny bit of un-impressing muscle.

                “Uh-huh,” I retorted half-heartedly. Byunghun narrowed his eyes and scoffed, kissing me once more. And again. And again. And again. Laughing, I leaned backwards to stop his kiss-attacks, but he caught me in a ring inside his arms and pulled me closer to him. I put my hands on his chest and, in between giggles, begged for him to set me free.

“Not until you say ‘Byunghun is the best kisser I’ve ever kissed before!’” he cried.

                “Byunghun is the best kisser I’ve ever kissed before!” I exclaimed, which made him laughed even harder until his beautiful brown eyes turned the arched shape of rainbows. And even then, he didn’t let me go. He kissed me more and more. I completely gave in and stopped struggling and started kissing him back.

                “Alright, L.Joe, it’s time for you to make your way back to the guys to get ready,” I said finally.

                “Fine.” Byunghun pouted. “But you’re coming too.”

                “You look cute with your hair like that.”

                “Shut up.”

                “I’m serious! I’ve never seen your forehead before.”

                “Yes you have.”

                “No I have not.”

                “RICKY, STOP BLINKING!”

                Mine and Byunghun;s banter was interrupted momentarily by one of the stylist noonas, who was attempting to outline Ricky’s almond shaped eyes with liquid eyeliner. Ricky, however, couldn’t stop blinking.

                “IT’S IN MY EYES!” Ricky cried, fighting the urge to wipe the black gook out of his eyes.

                “If you’re stop blinking it wouldn’t get in your eyes,” the stylist noona laughed. She placed a hand firmly on the young boy’s head and tilted it up. “One more try?”

                Sighing, Ricky followed orders. He tilted his head back and opened his eyes as wide as possible, trying not to blink until the liquid wand was away from his eyelids and back in the tiny black bottle.“I wish I had someone to do my makeup every day,” I said wistfully.

                “You already do a good job putting on makeup, noona,” Changjo smiled. His hair was in the middle of being sprayed with intense amounts of hairspray to retain its perfect shape.

                “Thank you, Changjo,” I beamed happily.

                “You’re welcome.” He smiled.

                “Chang-jo’s got-ta crush on Ki-rin,” Ricky sang softly, which made a broad smile spread across L.Joe’s lips.

                “I do not!” Changjo protested.

                “L.Joe-hyung, you might have some competition,” Niel teased, as another stylist noona flat ironed the back of his funky two-toned hair.

                “She’s out of your league, buddy,” L.Joe said with a smirk.

                “Don’t listen to them, Changjo,” I said sincerely. “They’re just teasing you because you’re polite.”

                “I like Kirin-noona better than you hyungs,” Changjo pouted.

                “Changjo, I love you,” L.Joe replied lovingly. To that, the magnae stuck his tongue out.

                Seeing that the conversation had subsided, I went back to watching the stylist noona with long black hair pin back L.Joe’s hot pink hair again with black clips. After making sure his hair was out of his face, she poured out some foundation that matched the exact color of his face on a little white foam pad and began evenly covering his entire face and neck. I watched intently as she expertly covered the spot of acne on his chin and dusted his whole face with a light colored powder, highlighting his cheek bones.

                “What?” L.Joe asked, noticing I was staring.

                “Nothing,” I said, looking back down at the magazine on my lap, pretending I had been reading it the entire time. I felt my cheeks turn pink. “You look nice. That’s all.”

                “How do I look, noona?” Changjo asked, turning around in the makeup chair to show me his perfectly styled striped hair and funky silver sunglasses shading his smiling eyes.

                “Changjo, you look wonderful.” I smiled sweetly.

                “Thanks,” he beamed, removing the sunglasses and turned back to face himself in the mirror.

                If Changjo was slightly older than he was now, say, two years older, I might actually find him attractive. He had a small round nose and perfectly clear skin, pretty dark brown eyes and long, powerful legs. He looked like he could pass as an 18-year-old, given his 177 centimeter stature and professional “stage swagger.” However, he still acted young. I was much more drawn to L.Joe, despite his petite frame. I was small myself, so being with L.Joe didn’t make me feel as small as I did around, say, C.A.P. His towering height and bulging muscles were as intimidating as they were y.

                The stylist noona tipped L.Joe’s head back and started applying eyeliner. I always liked L.Joe’s eyes outlined in eyeliner. I always thought he was a good looking guy, but when he wore eyeliner it just made his eyes pop in a y way. And with that bubble gum hair, it wouldn’t hurt to up his look.

                 “I’m jealous,” I said finally.

                “Of what?” Chunji asked.

                “L.Joe’s prettier than I am,” I laughed.

                “He really is beautiful, isn’t he?” Chunji beamed at L.Joe with a fake lovey-dovey look. L.Joe shot him the same one back. “Thank you, darling,” he coaxed sweetly to Chunji. I swear the only reason L.Joe is so good at being sweet to me is because he gets a lot of practice with Chunji.

                “I think you’re pretty, noona,” Changjo spoke up.

                “Thank you, Changjo,” I said flatly. This time, I didn’t look up from the magazine to shoot him a sugar-coated smile. A girl can only take so much flattery from her not-so-secret admirer who pounces on every opportunity to compliment her.

                “I don’t think you’re prettier than I am, babe,” L.Joe said, looking at my reflection in the mirror with a small, meaningful smile. For all that L.Joe and I annoy each other we had one heck of a bond. I could tell his emotion just by looking at his eyes. He doesn’t have to say a word; his face speaks volumes. I knew the sincere, loving look he could only portray through his eyes and the small smirk painted on his smooth lips quite well. It meant there was so much more he wanted to say, but now was not the time or place.

                Once L.Joe’s makeup had been completed, the stylist noona took the colored clips out of his abnormally colored hair and combed through it. Before she had done the makeup she had washed and dried it, so currently (aside from the color) it was completely natural. His hair is naturally fluffy and almost perfectly pin straight. Niel and Chunji were the only ones who had naturally wavy hair.

                She clamped the pink stands of hand between the searing hot plates of the ceramic flat iron and dragged it down slowly until each strand had been perfectly straightened. Then she ran a brush through it, parting it just right, making sure it fell exactly where it should, and sprayed it with hairspray. I giggled as I saw L.Joe’s nose crinkle up in the giant cloud of hairspray that engulfed his entire head.

                “All finished. Don’t you look cool!” The stylist noona exclaimed, spinning L.Joe’s chair around so he faced me. Looking at his face in person was always different than looking at it in a mirror. I can’t exactly explain it, but it looks a lot handsomer in person.

                “Tada,” L.Joe exclaimed grandly, standing up so I could drink in his stage person’s identity.

                “Hey L.Joe, has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like my boyfriend Lee Byunghun? I think you’re way hotter though,” I teased.

                “Miss, I’m not familiar with this Lee Byunghun, but since your boyfriend isn’t present, would you mind if I did this?” He took my chin and leaned down to kiss me on the lips. I felt like I was kissing a diamond; a beautiful sight worth a billion bucks. Everyone vied after the diamond, for it was cut ever so perfectly. Craftsmen’s pride and joy, for sure. He looked too good, too perfect to touch, as if my average-ness could taint his flawlessness.

                I wasn’t the one doing the touching, though. L.Joe was. His lips were pressed against mine, his body was against mine, and his hands were cupping my face.

                “I can’t kiss you anymore,” I giggled, pulling away.

                “Why?” His voice cracked.

                “Because you look so perfect and I don’t want to mess you up,” I giggled, stepping backwards even though I felt like tearing off his white sleeveless top and pressing my lips against his again, this time a little more forcefully.

                “You’re not going to mess me up,” he laughed, shaking his head. “But, I should probably go get changed.”

                Looks like he’ll be tearing off his tank top without my help.

               “I know, I know, go get changed,” I said, pointing towards the door.

                “I’ll be back.” He planted a quick but meaningful kiss on my cheek and jogging over to the door. He disappeared down the hallway where I heard Chunji and Minsoo’s hearty laughter.

                “He really loves you, you know.”

                I turned around abruptly to find the long-haired stylist noona who made L.Joe even more beautiful was standing, cleaning up the mess on the makeup counter.

                “Yeah, I guess I kind of do,” I said, fidgeting with my fingers.

                “No, more than you know,” she said, capping a bottle of foundation. “You’re all he talks about. Literally. Every performance, ever practice, he says something about you. He practices hard for you. You’re his inspiration, the thing that keeps him doing. If he’s discouraged or frustrated, he always says he’s doing it for you and he has to try harder. You really keep him going.”

                Her words were surprising. I knew L.Joe loved me—he told me all the time—but I didn’t know all of this.

                “Really?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

                She nodded. “It’s really hard for him to keep you of the public eye. He wants to say so much, to tell so much, to do so much, but he knows he can’t. So when you’re around he tries his hardest to be with you as much as he can.”

                I looked down and smiled. “It is really hard keeping it a secret.”

                “I admire that about you two; I really do. Young love is truly a gift.”

                At that moment, L.Joe can running out of the hallway, his pink hair bouncing. “I hurried as fast as I could. How do I look?” He was dressed in an all white ensemble; white skinny pants, clean white sneakers, a white jacket with a zipper up the front and the collar popped and a silver chain hanging from his belt-loops. His hands were covered with white and silver gloves.

                “Like a million billion bucks,” I said honestly.

                L.Joe beamed a pleased smile. “I’m gonna blow a kiss to the audience at the very end; it’s for you, okay?”

                Beaming, I nodded. “Okay.”

                “Good. But this is for you now.” He softly planted another kiss on my lips, just as C.A.P, Chunji, Niel, Ricky and Changjo came out of the hallway.

                “L.Joe, let’s go!” C.A.P cried happily, squeezing his dongsaeng’s shoulders.

                “L.Joe should stand for ‘Lover Joe’,” Niel giggled, which made everyone else snicker.

                “Alright, I’m coming.” L.Joe said. “Wish me luck!”

                “Good luck guys!” I called. “And good luck to you, Byunghun!”

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