“These will help,” Luhan’s told as the physician hands him a bottle of brand new pills and the prescription to go with it.

“What is this,” Luhan asks, struggling to read the scientific words on the thin white paper.

“A vitamin,” the physician tells him. “It’s common for first generation Perfects to feel a depletion of energy faster than the newer generation. This will help you from feeling so tired. The only side effect that may occur is a quickening of the heart rate, but it’s safe to use. Do you have any questions?”

“The pills you have me taking now,” Luhan starts, turning the paper over in his hands. “Is there any way I can get my previous ones back.”

“We’ve discontinued your previous pills,” the physician says. “What’s wrong what the current pills?”

“Nothing,” Luhan lies with a sigh, he slouches in the seat, eyes straying back to the pills and prescription in his hand. “The first ones were a bit easier to swallow.”

The physician, an older woman with graying black hair and deep eye wrinkles, pats at his shoulder good-naturedly. “If you take your pills everyday then you’ll get used to them.”

The physician’s office is on the top floor of a tall city building, it’s inconspicuously hidden under the name of Healing Center. The whole building was a healing center of sorts from the floors dedicated to spas to offices that were plastic surgery consultants.  There were even a few hidden astrologists willing to give customers a reading of their future if they paid the expensive fee.

After a massage he finally leaves the building, checking his cellphone for new messages and calls.He’s got a call from an unknown number and at first means to  ignore it till it calls him back while he’s driving home.

“Luhan,” he hears the voice of an old family friend call when he answers.

“Junmyeon,” Luhan greets, the corners of his lips turning up just slightly. “Why are you calling?”

“I’m back in the Capital,” Junmyeon says, and Luhan can hear the rush of people in the background. “District Three. I’m planning to go to this new restaurant, an upscale place with a variety of region based food. Come with me.”

“I’m not dressed for an upscale place,” Luhan tells him.

“Neither am I,” Junmyeon retorts, an easy laugh slipping pass his lips.”Yixing’s back with me, and we’re going to a club later. It can be like the old days.”

“You make me sound so old,” Luhan groans out, he’s already made a U-turn, quickly driving in the direction of District Three. “Where’s this place located?”

“You know that lounge you got banned from when you were 18,” Junmyeon asks, when Luhan responds with a yeah Junmyeon continues. “It’s located there. Apparently a new person bought it out and changed it into a restaurant. It’s a really swanky place.”

“Swanky,” Luhan repeats. “What type of words are the dinosaurs at CNS teaching you. I’ve never heard that word before grandpa.”

“Don’t worry,” Junmyeon says. “It’s okay for you Capital kids to be a bit behind on things. Swanky is the new it word.”

“It wasn’t an it word even when my great-grandfather was alive,” Luhan teases.

Junmyeon is about the same height as Kyungsoo but he’s older than Luhan’s manager. He was born a year after Luhan and lucked up enough to get the second, more stable, Perfection gene. Junmyeon dressed like new money, he made it a point to always wear luxury brands, from his clothes to his jewelry. Despite the flashy attire Junmyeon was as old money as it could get.

Rumor had it that his family used to be arm dealers during the war; they never chose a side just provided the weapons and ammunition for those fighting. When Caelum was created, they had thrown a lot of money to the government in order to stay in their position above the clouds. Junmyeon’s family were powerful, they were right under the Great Ruler when it came to power.

Yixing too, another close family friend of Luhan’s, came from a wealthy and powerful family. The four of them, Junmyeon, Yixing, Kyungsoo, and Luhan had all lived in the same neighborhood. While Luhan and Kyungsoo went into the world of entertainment, Yixing and Junmyeon joined National Security.

****

“Kyungsoo’s not here,” Luhan asks, sitting down across from Junmyeon. He can spot a waiter slowly walking over to them from behind Junmyeon.

“We’re having dinner at his place tomorrow,” Junmyeon says. He doesn’t continue and Luhan doesn’t bother asking for details, Junmyeon will probably fill him in later anyway. When the waiter approaches Luhan asks for water, while Junmyeon gets an expensive bottle of wine.

“I don’t have a menu,” Luhan notices after the waiter has disappeared. “What’s nice to eat here?”

“I already ordered for us,” Junmyeon tells him. “I figured since you’ve never been out of the Capital you wouldn’t know what’s good and what isn’t.”

“I’ve been to Asaea,” Luhan tells him, “and I was in the desert yesterday.”

“Well next time we can go to a place that specializes in desert food,” Junmyeon teases. The waiter returns a second later with their drinks and promises to have their food ready in 15 minutes. Luhan waits till the waiter’s gone before taking out his new bottle of pills, shaking it so that a pale blue capsule falls onto his palm. “What’s that,” Junmyeon asks, watching as Luhan swallows down one of the pills.

“Vitamin,” Luhan answers passing the bottle over to Junmyeon. “It helps us First Gens keep up with you guys.” He watches as Junmyeon turns the bottle around in his fingers, before opening it and taking out a capsule.

“What happens if a next Gen takes one of these,” Junmyeon asks. He’s twirling the pill around examining that also.

“Don’t know,” Luhan shrugs, taking another sip of his water, “It’s probably like drinking a cup of coffee or something. The pills I take don’t normally do much of what they’re supposed to.”

“We should give it to Yixing,” Junmyeon suggests. He laughs a little when he sees Luhan glare, and pops the pill in his mouth, swallowing it dry.

Luhan frowns a little at the action, “I don’t know if that was just pure stupidity or your fearlessness, kicking in. This isn’t like last time, I have no idea how bad the side effects are, if something happens you’re on your own. ”

Junmyeon flashes a smile full of straight white teeth and takes a sip of his wine. “I’ll be fine,” he reassures Luhan.

****

The pill is like a shot of caffeine straight to the veins for next generation Perfects. After their nice dinner, Luhan feels more awake, but Junmyeon he’s nearly bouncing off the walls. Luhan’s tempted to ditch him but it was Luhan’s pill he took and he wouldn’t be much of a friend if he abandoned Junmyeon just because he was a little too hyper. A night on the dance floor could probably help the younger deal with the excess energy anyway.

When they enter the club, Luhan heads to the VIP section while Junmyeon wanders off to the dance floor. Yixing’s not hard to spot, Yixing always seemed to stand out when he was amongst people, his father was similar to Junmyeon’s, as in he was somewhat of an advisor to the Great Ruler. Caelum as a large country was hard to rule, and since the Great Ruler worked in the shadows he needed just as great representation to be his face. Yixing’s father was one of those representatives, and his son was the flirty sweetheart of the National Security team.

Luhan’s been surrounded by influence since he was twelve, and it intimidated him rather than anything else.

Yixing notices him as he approaches and the younger male stands up, a grin on his lips. Luhan hugs him tightly, before taking a seat beside the younger.

“Where’s Jun,” Yixing asks, looking behind Luhan for their missing friend.

“Dance floor,” Luhan answers, “he needs to work off his excess energy.” Luhan grabs Yixing’s drink off the table and takes a sip from the straw.

“Excess energy,” Yixing repeats to himself, frowning a bit as Luhan blatantly steals his drink. “Did he have coffee or something?”

“I’ve got a new pill,” Luhan says, “It helps me keep up with you guys, but apparently it makes you overly energetic.”  He watches as Yixing thinks about his words before it clicks in his head. The younger looks towards the dance floor as if he can see through the hordes of people to where Junmyeon lies.

“Well at least he’s having fun,” Yixing says, taking his drink away from Luhan. “Hey,” he calls out, eyes shining with untamed curiosity underneath the Technicolor club lights. “What happens when you mix your pills with alcohol?”

Luhan shrugs his shoulders a little, letting his eyes stray around the room, looking from patron to patron while he sits back on the leather couch. “Junmyeon’s had half a bottle of wine and it still hasn’t hindered him. I’m not sure what it’ll do to normal people though.”

Luhan hadn’t spent a night out on the city with the younger two in years. The moment they’d gotten accepted into National Security, they left the Capital for training. The pair came back occasionally but never long enough to spend a night out drinking and partying until the early morning.

With so much time lost between them Luhan had forgotten two major important facts, one of which being that Yixing was a light weight.  Taking shots was not something he could do well, after only a few his face would get flush and he’d eventually stop. Junmyeon on the other hand was a monster, he had a separate stomach and liver for the amount of alcohol he could intake.

He was a short, petite man, but his tolerance was in a league of its own, not even Luhan had such a tolerance, and alcohol was slowly becoming water to him.

Just like old times Yixing leaves them first, he drinks, spends his time on the dance floor, and abandons them to go home with a pretty girl that can’t be bothered to take her eyes off the youngest male.

****

“Do you think your physician gets her pills off the black market,” Junmyeon asks, words slightly slurred. The time’s 4:15 in the morning and the pair of them are in district four, eating Ice-cream in a tiny little shop near Jongin and Sehun’s place. The yellow glow of the light hurts Luhan’s eyes, and his Strawberry ice-cream is slowly melting into a sugary cold goo.

“Are you trying to build a case against my physician,” Luhan asks. They’re sitting in a booth near the window, the table an ugly pale pink, and the chairs are red and made of uncomfortable cushion. The floors have a glossy glow against the black and white tiles, and Luhan’s pretty sure that it shows dirt easy.

“It’s pre-war décor,” Junmyeon tells him, when he notices Luhan’s look of disdain directed towards the red and silver barstools near the counter. “Like from the 19 hundreds.”

“I don’t care,” Luhan huffs a bit. “These seats are just uncomfortable. Anyway, my physician is giving me medicine you guys give her. If anything she’s supplying the black market instead of buying from them. She’d make more of a profit that way.”

“True,” Junmyeon says, humming thoughtfully. “Lu, Kyungsoo told me President Kim put a restriction on who you’re allowed to date.”

“It has to be a real relationship,” Luhan grimaces. “I wonder what he considers a real relationship.”

“Maybe he’s looking for your spouse,” Junmyeon suggests. “You are at the age to get married.”

“President Kim and I don’t have that kind of relationship,” Luhan replies. “I’m still low class to him. I’m allowed to choose my own spouse.”

“Then that must be what he wants,” Junmyeon says. “Find a girl that you can settled down with, but lets you still play around.”

“Because that went oh so well for you,” Luhan retorts, he’s swirling his spoon in the bowl now. “Your fiancée left you.”

“She only cared about herself,” Junmyeon says. “It was my mistake for agreeing to be with her. She was only pretending to be cool with things. What you need though, is someone that is willing to cater to you when you need it, but knows to give you space as well."

“So like a live-in brothel worker,” Luhan asks drily. “There is no woman in the world that’s like that.”

“That could work,” Junmyeon suggests. “The brothel idea. You could get like someone from District Seven or something. Someone with nothing going for them.”

“I’d rather not,” Luhan interrupts. “I don’t want some random person in my apartment and it won’t work, she’s still human, she’d still have feelings. “ He suppresses a tired sigh and lets his eyes roam around the empty room. “I’d rather not complicate things any more than they are.”

Junmyeon frowns, and a silence takes over the store as they sit there each attempting to finish their ice cream.

“I’ll tell you what,” Junmyeon says, dropping the spoon into his dessert. “There’s this new serum coming out in a year or two for First Gen.”

“So something to kill us off completely,” Luhan says. When the repaired Perfection gene came about, First Gen Perfects attempted to take it to fix their remaining flaws, but it conflicted with the previous Perfect Gene and caused organ failure and eventually death amongst many.

“No,” Junmyeon says. “It’s not going to kill you. We’re trying to make something that works with your already existing gene. It’s going to fix the things that your gene wasn’t able to.” Luhan opens his mouth readying a less than nice retort before deciding against it. There’s no use attacking a friend that’s just trying to help, just because he doubted it would help.

****

Luhan looks at himself in his mirror, thin fingers prodding at the bags underneath his eyes. It’s 8:15 in the morning, the city is awake once more and Luhan hasn’t slept.

His hair is damp from his shower and the wet droplets of water are falling off the strands and seeping through his top. In front of him on the top of his dresser, sits open makeup and he dips the pads of his fingers into the skin tone liquid. He messily applies the makeup to the dark circles, watching as they ease away underneath his fingertips. Minutes later, the tired gleam in his eyes is the only thing that shows his sleep deprivation.

It takes an hour for a perfect to get prepared for the day.

Perfect Mind +Perfect Body +Perfect Appearance=True Perfection

It takes longer for a model to get ready, to be a model in a Perfect world you have to be more perfect than perfect. On days when one may just want to wear sweats and not do anything to your hair, it was impossible. A normal Perfect could get away with wearing a trash bag, it was the Perfect gene that made them still keep their head high. That allowed them to move with an elegance only a Perfect possessed.

A model, an entertainer, or any kind of celebrity was not granted that same kind of negligence. They weren’t only models of clothing, but also models of the Perfect Gene. They existed solely to show what the Perfection gene could do and that meant them needing to be more perfect than the rest of the population. It wasn’t an easy feat for most.

****

Luhan will never admit it, but he held a deep fear of heights. It wasn’t just the fear of heights that kept him from looking down while he rode Nessen’s glass elevator to the top floor. Acrophobia, the fear of heights, was a fear that Luhan held all his life.  It wasn’t as bad as it could be, there were no panic attacks, or shortness of breaths, just mild easily ignorable dizziness. It was hard to not look down when he was standing inside of a see-through elevator and all he could feel was himself being lifted floor after floor.

Minseok has a headset on when Luhan sees him, his eyes are concentrated on his computer screen and he’s talking to someone. Luhan walks over to his desk, leaning against it as he does his best to wait patiently. When Minseok ends the video call he glances over to Luhan and gives the male a smile.

“For a popular model, you sure spend a lot of time here,” Minseok teases.

“If your boss answered my calls I wouldn’t have to come in just to report to him,” Luhan retorts. He leans forward, attempting to peer at Minseok’s computer in mild curiosity. “It’s good to see he finally brought you into the future.”

“President Kim hates video calls,” Minseok tells him.

“Makes it hard for him to pretend like he gives a damn, right,” Luhan asks, crossing his arms under him a little.

“For someone that owes their whole career to that man you really don’t seem all that fond of him,’ Minseok observes.

“Are you fond of him,” Luhan asks, “The guy that probably forgot your name after the first hour and yells at you when you weren’t even the one to screw up?”

“I’m thankful,” Minseok says. “He gave me this job so I’ll be forever thankful towards him even if he gets irrationally angry at me and can never remember my name.”

“It’s not that he can’t remember your name,” Luhan explains to Minseok. “It’s just that he doesn’t bother to try. You and I don’t share the same sentiments however. I never wanted to model. This isn’t something I do because I want to, it’s something I do because I’m obligated.”

Luhan can see the way Minseok’s eyes drop, and how the male’s Adam’s apple bobs as if he’s trying to think of something to say after Luhan’s unexpected confession. “Minseok,” he calls out, softly trying to ease the unwanted tension, a tense smile spread on his lips. Luhan has a knack for making people uncomfortable without even trying, but it’s not exactly something he’s fond of. Minseok looks up to him in expectance and Luhan continues. “Can I go see President Kim?” Minseok gives a silent nod of his head and Luhan frowns just a bit. He stands straight and walks pass the desk.

President Kim’s personal office is just as intimidating as he is. It’s not a Perfect thing, it’s a President Kim thing. Kris’s office had both personal and company awards lining the walls and on his desk were the obligatory picture frames. One had Kris’ mother, another had Luhan and himself, and other pictures from a simpler time in Kris’s life.

President Kim had nothing on his walls, awards were placed on an award shelf near Minseok’s desk, and nothing but paperwork lined President Kim’s desk. The room was completely white and spacious. It was vast and that in itself was intimidating. Luhan’s pretty sure he’s the only one that finds it that way.

“How was the photo shoot,” Luhan hears just as he settles himself in one of the leather cushioned seats across from President Kim. The man isn’t looking at him, but Luhan’s used to it, President Kim barely ever looks up from his work unless he wants to glare or threaten Luhan. “You did leave a better impression right?”

“Everything went smoothly,” Luhan says, voice strained as he taps softly against the chair’s armrest. “They loved me, said they couldn’t wait to work on more shoots with your models.”

“Don’t do something like that again,” President Kim tells him. “I’d rather not lose business partners because my agency’s top model is off getting drunk and sleeping with strangers the night before important shoots.”

“Are you telling me I can’t go out now,” Luhan asks, voice shaking just the slightest from the anger he can already feel coursing through his blood.

“I’m telling you to cut back on the time you spend going out and focus more on your career,” President Kim tells him, voice cold and nonchalant as it always is. He looks up at that. President Kim knows he’s a first generation Perfect, and knows that Luhan can still feel fear, so he always uses it to his advantage. “You either cut back or I hire someone to make sure you don’t go out at all, child.”

 Luhan glares at the man in front of him, as he angrily clenches his fists in his lap. “I’ll cut back,” Luhan says softly, his words forced.

“Good,” President Kim replies. He drops his gaze from Luhan and waves his wrist a little. “You’re dismissed.” Petulantly, Luhan leaves the office, slamming the door shut as he does so. He’s glaring into nothing, his thoughts race after suppressing his words, and only feels an ease of tension when a soft cough sounds through the room.

He turns his head to look at Minseok. The boy is watching him with concern apparent in his eyes. “Are you okay,” Minseok asks.

Luhan bites his bottom lip, eyes looking to the ceiling as if he’s thinking about the question.  “Noon’s approaching,” He says a second later.  Minseok’s eyes quickly look to the digital clock on his desk before his gaze returns to Luhan.

“Yes,” he confirms. “It’s five minutes till noon.”

“Have lunch with me then,” Luhan suggests. He moves away from President Kim’s door and heads back over to Minseok. “Please,” he adds as an afterthought. He releases his lip from his teeth and smiles in what he hopes is a friendly non-threatening manner as he gazes at Minseok.

Minseok looks at him before letting out an airy little laugh as if finding Luhan’s proposal ridiculous. “Okay,” he says. He leans forward and presses the white button on the intercom. “President Kim, I’m going to lunch in five.” He leans back, and Luhan just stares at the speaker for a second almost expecting President Kim to deny him.

“He’s not going to say no,” Minseok says with a laugh.

“Do you think he monitors what you say and do through that,” Luhan asks.

“Probably,” Minseok shrugs. “Maybe he has people that do that. President Kim doesn’t seem like the type to do such a mundane task as that. Either way, I still have my job so if he is doing it, he doesn’t really care what I say.” He stands then a small grin on his lips as he slips pass his desk in Luhan.

“Shouldn’t you grab you’re jacket,” Luhan asks. “It’s cold out.”

“It’s always cold out,” Minseok retorts. “We’re not going out.”

“Then where are we going,” Luhan asks, standing beside Minseok as they await the elevator. “I asked you out to lunch.”

“We’re going to lunch,” Minseok tells him. “There’s a cafeteria inside the building. It’s pretty good and we don’t have to waste time driving to some random restaurant.” The elevator makes a dinging sound as it stops on their floor and the pair slip inside. Luhan watches as Minseok presses the button to the ground floor, and resigns himself to staring at the secretary, so he doesn’t get too dizzy.

“I wasn’t aware there was a cafeteria here,” Luhan says. Minseok’s shorter than him, not by a lot. Luhan thinks it’s a nice height difference. His dress shirt is tight on his upper body, especially on his arms, and even with the slightly loose slacks it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that despite Minseok having a baby face, his body is that of a man’s.

“What are you looking at,” Minseok asks, and Luhan quickly brings his gaze back up to the boy’s face. Minseok’s eyebrows are slightly raised and he’s got a smirk on his lips.

“Nothing,” Luhan lies, just as the elevator dings once more. He exits the elevator first only to pause and frown slightly at Minseok. “Where are we going?”

“Follow me,” Minseok commands, smirk still on his lips as he moves pass Luhan and turns left. Luhan does so silently and follows the older male.

“Order for me,” Luhan says when he enters the cafeteria behind Minseok. There are different places to get different food and the eyes of the workers linger on him as he stands near the entrance. He feels overwhelmed and slightly put off within the unfamiliar place.

“I don’t know what you like,” Minseok says softly.

Luhan continues to let his eyes roam the expansion of the room. White must be the President’s favorite color, because the cafeteria is a sterile white that doesn’t seem appropriate for a place of eating. “Anything will do,” he says. “You get the food, and I’ll find us seats.”

“Okay,” Minseok mutters reluctantly. He walks away just as Luhan begins fishing out his card to pay for his meal, and Luhan frowns after him, the sound of the boy’s dress shoes squeaking against the cafeteria’s tile.

Luhan finds a table in the middle of the room, closer to the exit, but not as close that it’s obvious that he wants to leave. Luhan takes another glance around the room before watching Minseok’s back. The boy is relaying his order to the life-like robot behind the counter. Luhan grimaces a bit, praying that the ones making the food are anything but metal contraptions with circuit wiring and artificial intelligence powering them.

Minseok struggles slightly with the tray of food and Luhan feels mildly bad about leaving him on his own to gather both of their meals.

“Sorry,” Minseok says, as he puts the food down on the table and sits across from Luhan. “If I had known you’d be uncomfortable, I would have never dragged you here.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Luhan lies. Minseok stares him in the eyes and Luhan stares back unwavering.

“Okay,” Minseok says a moment later, dropping his gaze to the food. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got us food to share if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine,” Luhan says, watching as Minseok takes the containers off the tray and sets it in the middle of them. “How much did it cost? I’ll pay half.”

“No need,” Minseok answers, handing him chopsticks. “I used the company’s card.”

For whatever reason Luhan grins a little at Minseok’s confession, and as they begin eating, a comfortable silence cloaks them.

“I heard something really interesting from Kai and Sehun.”

“Hmm,” Minseok hums looking up from the food to Luhan.

“You wanted to be a barista?”

Minseok grins at the question a small laugh slipping pass his lips, “I’m not an android,” he says.

“That’s good to know,” Luhan says a small grin of his own on his lips. Minseok looked nothing like the eerie human-like androids that normally worked at coffee shops and cafés.  Luhan would be lying if he said that he didn’t harbor a mild dislike for the robots. They had a cold artificial glow in their eyes, and their skin, despite being smooth to the touch, wasn’t anything like human skin.  Androids were like caricatures of humans, they only had one purpose in life which was previously programmed into them and they did their jobs perfectly, their powerful artificial intelligence allowing for no mistake.

“It’s not a real dream,” Minseok tells him. “I’m just not too fond of the androids that currently do the job. It feels too impersonal in my opinion. Besides androids are just…” he trails off at that, eyes staring at the table as he tries to find a good argument against the mechanical people. “I don’t like them,” he says a moment later, nose scrunching up cutely to express his dislike.

“Neither do I,” Luhan tells him. When Minseok smiles at him, Luhan can’t help but grin back. “Why aren’t you a model? Why are you a secretary?”

“Do you think I could be a model,” Minseok asks. The way Minseok asks it, it isn’t like how normal people ask the question. Normally people take on a surprise and disbelieving tone, Minseok’s tone is similar to the one he used in the elevator when he caught Luhan staring. It’s confident and playful. He’s obviously aware of Luhan’s interest

“Yes,” Luhan answers. “You’re good-looking, and your face is really unique. You’d be loved.”

“Thanks,” Minseok says. “But I don’t really like having so much attention directed my way. Besides I like consistency and office jobs are best at providing that.”

They talk more about nonsensical topics, mostly about entertainment. That’s everyone’s go to topic and even though Luhan doesn’t watch too much television or listen to the radio often, he’s part of the entertainment world so it’s still pretty easy to talk about the music and shows Minseok likes.

Eventually Minseok glances at his watch and Luhan figures that it time for him to get back to work. “You can go first,” Luhan tells him. “I’ll clean up everything.”

“You don’t have a schedule,” Minseok asks. They stand together and Luhan gathers the empty food containers onto the tray.

“No,” Luhan answers. “Kai and Sehun have joint shoots. I think I’m heading towards my expiration date. I haven’t had much work recently.” Minseok follows him to throw their things out.

“Isn’t that normal though,” Minseok asks. “Kai said you go through periods where you have little work, and periods where you have a lot.”

Luhan frowns a bit, but nods his head. “Kai’s right I guess. But I’ve been around since I was a teen. There’s not many years left in my career.”

“Well when your modeling days are over, we can open a coffee shop together since you hate androids as much as I do.”

It’s a joke and Luhan can tell but he can’t stop himself from smiling. “We should do it.” They bid goodbye with promises to eat lunch together again sometime soon.

 This update was supposed to come on Friday but my computer broke like an hour after my previous update. I'm changing the rating to this. It's not as rated as I intitally thought it would be, of course there will be moments but there's nothing that needs to keep the whole story M.