Cho Kyuhyun, or his company rather, was one of the main sponsors of the Milan, Paris and New York Spring Fashion show hosted by the fashion house Shangri-La.

He is an orphan, one that had nothing to start with. He didn’t know how long he had been at the orphanage or when he had been sent there. He didn’t even know who his parents were and why they had left him all alone. Were they dead…were they alive? If they were alive, why did they abandon him? He knew nothing of those…and now he probably didn’t care either.

All that he knew of was that he was born on the third of February and that his name was Cho Kyuhyun.

He was a quiet as a child. Quiet but extremely smart. He never showed it but he would always be jealous of those kids in his school that would get picked up by their parents or would bring wonderful lunches prepared by their mothers. He wanted to complain about parents like they did and he wanted to have a real home to get back to, not one that he shared with twenty two other kids.

That need to have something of his own was probably his driving force.

When he reached eighteen years of age, he was kicked out of the orphanage, graciously of course, after being told out of the blue on his birthday no less, that it was against orphanage rules to have a anyone here above legal age and Kyuhyun unfortunately had just turned legal…and therefore he needed to go. Just like that he was left without a home or any idea of what to do. He thanked his lucky stars that he had been able to snag himself a scholarship to the prestigious University of South Korea, boasting of the best scholars and immediate placement at renown firms upon graduation with any degree that held their logo on it. With that beacon of light, Kyuhyun found himself a part time job, used his book allowances to get himself a shared dorm room and spent the next three years of university, basically holed up in his room if he wasn’t in classes, with double majors in business (because he wanted to be rich) and IT (because computers and programming in particular were his pet hobbies.)

He had saved all his money from his part time jobs and with that he had started with a small company dealing with information technology and web design and after designing a new web program that earned him millions, Kyuhyun had quickly invested in other businesses. He was smart already and now it was time to use that intelligence to his advantage. He had secured himself a seemingly worthless piece of land after being told by a drunk yet reliable client of his IT services, of his plans in the Southern Arabia. Before the man had gotten over his hangover, Kyuhyun had bought the land the man had been eyeing himself and had already gotten geologists on site and two months later when it was confirmed that miles underneath barren soil there was crude oil, Kyuhyun had an oil rig set up.

In a matter of sixteen months, his 11 million had been multiplied almost to itself.

And it was just the beginning

After that he went into cars, buying out engineering secrets of the Audi, the Lamborghini, and the Ferrari…all of it and then putting it into his own design…one that produced a super car of a new generation.

Food chains, fashion houses, electronics…Kyuhyun had his finger in every pie.

TIME magazine described him as the man to not to be reckoned with. COSMOPOLITAN said that he was in a suit.

Kyuhyun was just a lonely man protecting the only thing he had – money. And he did it so being the cold ruthless man he had learnt to be given the harsh life he had spent in the orphanage, in high school were money and popularity was everything and in college where he sweated blood to attain the education he needed to get to where he stood now.

The top of the world.

Alone

~*~

Hyukjae was a young model. He had first found himself utterly and completely alone in this world after his parents left him to travel the globe. He had been just thirteen and his parents had just made it to the end of the street before they got into a car crash leaving Hyukjae forever and without anyone to call family. There was only so much that a thirteen year old could do. The house had been taken by the bank to pay off his parents loans and he had been bundled and handed off to child services on a silver platter.

His foster parents weren’t exactly warm and kind. They did this for money. They had no interest in Hyukjae but only in the monthly allowance that the government gave them for Hyukjae’s basic needs, needs of clothing, food, school…all of which were ignored and the money pocketed. And if he were ever ask for something, like new shoes when his old tattered ones finally decided that they would not be held together by the fraying threads anymore, they would beat him to an inch of his life. Never above the neck though and always in places that the bruises could be easily hidden.

After all the supervisor lady could make a visit anytime.

Hyukjae met Jaejoong after almost six months of foster care and with feelings of total abandonment and self doubt. He was hitting puberty thinking that he was worthless and with lots of anger. He was about to take the wrong path but Jaejoong, another foster kid, had somehow reached out to the boy who was fast on the road to self destruction…and self harm.

Both found a place to rest in each other. A brother. A comrade. A companion.

A friend.

Jaejoong taught Hyukjae to fight for himself. He taught him to fight back and to fight well. Though both were assumed to be weak and too feminine at first glance, both were a force to be reckoned with even at the tender age of 14 and 15 respectively. And it wasn’t always violent physical fights that Jaejoong teaches Hyukjae…he teaches him to be a true diva…to fight with his tongue and with his attitude.

To be strong

Fashion industry was not something that Hyukjae ever imagined himself getting into. But on his fifteenth birthday, Jaejoong had snuck him out and both had stolen some money from both their foster parents and bought pretty clothes and had gone off to the city for the first time. All dolled up and ready to party.

And it was there that they were scouted.

After the initial adrenalin rush had died down from the rebellion that they had put up, they realized that when they got home it would be a hiding of the century from their foster parents and probably they will be reported to the authorities for bad behavior and they will never be given any freedom again. And so they jump at the chance to be model trainees. They got a place to sleep and perhaps a future career too. How could this possibly be a bad thing?

They both had gotten part time jobs and would spend hours learning to strut like a peacock on ice skates and still find a way to look good at it, all this taught by Lee Hyori herself, former beauty queen and now CEO of her own model agency. She saw talent in those boys. She preened them herself, making them walk with books on their heads while singing the newest pop number from their music industry. Diets, body hair removals, painful bleaching to get a more attractive colour, sores and blisters on their feet from all the walking until they get it right, and many many tears…but to them it was okay…at least they had each other.

Jaejoong was launched at DKNY fashion exhibit and Hyukjae at the Calvin Klein summer fashion show. Neither were the main models but it was just that one walk down the brightly lit, sparkling runway, eyes hooded and luring, lips open just enough to seduce, expression cold. Just one walk had made them an overnight hit. They were on the front covers of almost all fashion magazines.

Rookies set the runway on fire.

Newcomers to the Runway Fire and Ice

The world was theirs to conquer

They had arrived

~*~

Hyukjae walked through the almost glittering crowd of millionaires and their trophy wives or escorts for the night, hand wrapped delicately around a slim flute of bubbly champagne. He was looking for his hyung who was the show stopper for the Chanel Line while he was for Shangri-La. Both were still in their last outfits because even iff the main event was over, the models were still expected to parade around just as beautifully as they had on the ramp.

He smiled at the old Mr. Lee, the CEO of one of Seoul’s biggest music agency, SMEntertainment. He was used to the looks, the appreciating way they moved all over him body, the way their eyes would peel off his clothes layer by layer…yet he did not feel . His façade was up and he really didn’t give a to what old impotent s who needed to make even the smallest of dents, thought of him. He knew he was beautiful and he would be damned if he didn’t flaunt it.

His Jaejoong hyung had taught him to do so and it had worked this far. Hyukjae heard a fake voice call out his stage name, dripping with honey underlined with just a hint of disdain and he turned a little, a beautiful smile on his face, a fake smile, “Darling, you looked absolutely gorgeous up there,” complimented one of his rival models, a senior rival model as she made feather kisses on either sides of his makeup-ed cheeks, “I almost felt threatened.”

“You should,” Hyukjae heard another voice pip from behind him and this time a genuine smile graces his lips, “it’s about time you retire. Botox can only do so much for your saggy skin,” says Jaejoong as he loops his arm around Hyukjae’s while blinking innocently.

“Excuse me? What the hell is supposed to mean?”

“Hhmmmm,” Jaejoong chirps, wide doe eyes widening a little further and contacts of hazel shining, “it means exactly what it means” he says with a of his head and a finger tapping his pouty lips, one that had been on countless magazines as the number one lips that girls want to kiss, with Hyukjae coming a close third after actor Park Yoochun. Jaejoong smirks a little at the flabbergasted stunned look on the much senior model and wiggles his long fingers in goodbye, “toodles,” as he stirs Hyukjae away from an impending catfight.

“I’m so pissed,” Jaejoong huffs as he snags a glass of champagne.

“Really? I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Hyuk-ah~ don’t be mean to me~~~” Jaejoong whines uncharacteristically because he is always a frigid  in public, “you looked gorgeous by the way. Loved that slo-mo drag of your toe at the end of the walk!” he then chirps and Hyukjae rolls his eyes at his bipolar best friend who ooh’s and swipes a couple appetizer plates of the little finger foods as waiters flit around, “So what happened?” asked Hyukjae curious as to why his hyung was angry.

“Hmmm…” Jaejoong moans as he forks a strawberry circle with a delicate swirl of angels hair pasta and broiled chicken topped with parsley and arugula into his, “Some stupid idol tried to my and my stupid boyfriend, who by the way, is here too, didn’t even try to stop him. Okay so who cares that he wasn’t even near me at the time but still! I almost punched the man but then his manager/nanny came and took him away, which is a good thing because he wouldn’t have liked what my fist would have said to his nose. Who gives a about how famous Choi Siwon is. Anyways, I heard that the chef here today is especially hired from Four Seasons and I know how much you loved their pasta menu,” he pops a bit into Hyukjae’s mouth mid-sentence and beam, “isn’t this yummy?”

Hyukjae moans as the pasta and the chicken practically melt in his mouth, washed down with the sweet taste of strawberry, and ignores the blabbering beauty next to him as he reached for another ensemble “It’s good isn’t it?” JaeJoong’s asks again, wiggling his perfectly shaped eyebrows and Hyukjae nods, eyes looking around for the waiter so he can get some more because he hadn’t eaten all day and that was like torture to the boy. He smiles gummy when Jaejoong tells him that he will go them a plate of threats and disappears into the crowd.

Hyukjae looks around the crowd from where he stands, watching Jaejoong’s slim yet perfectly proportioned back disappear near the buffet table. He let his eyes roam, taking in the glitz and glamour of the idols, trust fund brats and cutthroat ruthless money mongers. He popped the last of the food into his mouth, letting out another moan as strawberry burst in his mouth, ignoring one of the heir’s that had taken interest in his reaction to food.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met,” says a smooth silky voice from behind him. Its reeks of masculinity and mystery and Hyukjae turns around to the most handsome man he has ever seen. He looks rugged and wild even in the prim and proper navy blue Armani six piece suit and two thousand dollar Italian loafers. He wore Tag Huer titanium enforced watch and Tiffany cuff links and he smelled of everything dangerous and exciting. He smelt of money. “I am Cho Kyuhyun,” the man introduces himself and Hyukjae doesn’t like what his voice does to him.

Not one bit.

His hair is standing at his nape. His s feel hard and his body feels warm and tingly as though all his nerve endings are standing to attention to this man and his remarkable presence. “Won’t you tell me your name,” speaks the man again and Hyukjae blushes, mentally thanking his makeup noona for putting on so much foundation and BB cream that he would probably need a shovel to scrap it off by the end of the night.

“I don’t believe that is necessary Mr. Cho.”

“Oh?” A perfect eyebrow arches

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I don’t do the likes of you,” Hyukjae said, face holding a perfect cold mask. He turns haughtily, head held high and walks away before he even hears the deep chuckle come from that man that he knew nothing of but knew everything of. Men like that liked one night stands. Men like that liked the absence of commitment. Men like that bought men like him every night.

 But Hyukjae had no intention of becoming part of the list that he was sure, was as tall the man was.

Even if it made his skin tingle and s hard.

Because even the cold temperature of the room could do the same.

~*~

Hyukjae was at an art exhibition by the world renowned Kim Heechul. He had met the artist at one of his fashion shows with Jaejoong and both had stuck a deep friendship with the diva-ish man. But as much as he loved the man and his quirky 3D nature, he just could not understand the paintings in front of him.

‘What the hell is this supposed to be? Looks a kindergartener drew it’

He cocked his head to the right, trying to see if he could understand the piece of art in front of him from another angle.

It wasn’t working.

“To me it looks as though someone had just dropped a whole bunch of paint on the canvas and made a mess of it and let it out to dry.” It was the voice again…and that meant it was that man again. He had read up on him after meeting him for the third time at a charity event and also the third time of him trying to be friendly with him. He was curious as to who this man was that made him feel all hot and bothered. He wasn’t too wrong of his first impression from what he read.

 Cho Kyuhyun. Billionaire extraordinaire. Changes women and men like he changed clothes. Never had any feelings for his oppositions nor for the ones that had unfortunately fallen in love with him. He is the exact opposite of what Hyukjae wanted in his man.

Yet again it was happening…s hardening and skin tingling. Ugh! How he hated himself and Cho Kyuhyun.

“Excuse me?”

“I meant that eyesore behind you.”

“I know that. But I think that the artist is brilliant. The use of these colours to portray what he feels is just so-” he stopped because really Hyukjae didn’t know what Heechul was trying to say. Nobody probably knew what Heechul was trying to say “why am I bothering to explain to you? It’s perhaps something that you may not understand…feelings that is.”

“Really…? What feelings? Do tell.” He could hear the amusement in his voice and Hyukjae wanted to smack him for that. It’s like he knew what Hyukjae was thinking. Like he knew what Hyukjae was feeling.

“I don’t think I need to explain feelings to you. It would be useless.”

“Try.” This cocky bastard

“It can be anything…and then nothing at all.” Hyukjae mentally smacked himself for the vague answer but it’s the best that he could come up with, given that Cho Kyuhyun had now stepped closer, standing a mere foot away from Hyukjae who was feeling that his personal space was being severely invaded by the conglomerate and his sinful cologne.

“Oh please stop pretending. You and I both know that you understand this just as much as I do…which isn’t much. And would you not argue with me for just one time?!”

“You’re right. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“I’m still talking to you.”

“And I’m done talking.” Hyukjae bristles yet pouting unknowingly. He squints back suspiciously at the magnate as asks as an afterthought, “What are you even doing here?”

“I am sponsoring this event.”

Oh…of course…he should have known. “Whatever! Excuse me. I have art to appreciat