The one thing his friends from the old neighborhood constantly asked him after he became an idol, was how it was like to be famous. 

 

To be able to travel, and see new places. To walk around with bodyguards and have lots of money. Or what it was like to have thousands of girls screaming your name as soon as you got onstage. 

 

He'd wanted to say that it was all good, but he was never one to lie.

 

So he told them that it all depended on his mood.

 

Some days, being Kim Hyun Joong was so freaking awesome, he had to pinch himself. 

 

Even on his busiest days, he felt lucky. He'd gone through a lot to get where he was, and what guy didn't dream of a thousand girls swooning as they helplessly screamed your name?

 

Yes, being an idol was awesome. Except on days like this, when being famous prevented him from doing the simplest of things. 

 

Like going to the bathroom. 

 

"It's still full?" He didn't know why he even bothered to ask. There were five guys standing outside the bathroom with their legs practically crossed, and it looked like it had been that way for quite a while. 

 

"The other bathroom is out of order." A crewman, who was last on the line, told him. "We usually have a portalet for the production crew, but it's outside."

 

And outside meant having to climb over vans and grips and heaven knows who else, only to stand in line again behind one or two guys. 

 

"There's a girls bathroom on the entrance of the auditorium." Another crewman told him. 

 

He rolled his eyes. That wouldn't do. 

 

On any other day, Beom Soo would have been there and insisted he cut in. He was the talent, after all. But his manager was out taking care of last minute requests, most likely with Yoona, his publicist and sometimes warden.

 

He was contemplating telling the men who he was, but judging how they pretended not to know him, they probably didn't care. 

 

"I think I'll try the portalet." He told them, clutching hard at his mineral water bottle as he started to walk out. 

 

He'd barely opened the door when the sqeals of a hundred waiting school girls filtered through. 

 

Immediately turning around, he tried to make a run back to the men's bathroom. Waiting would be better than signing a few autographs when he really, absolutely, may the earth split in two, had to pee. 

 

He was about halfway through when he made the decision to cut in, reputation be damned. He needed to go...really, really, badly.

 

"Ah, fuuuuuuccccckkkk!"

 

He must have looked like quite a sight: Kim Hyun Joong, idol, speed walking to the bathroom, looking like a vice was gripping his balls.

 

It was then that he realized, rather quickly, that he wasn't going to make it. 

 

Good thing he had an idea. (And a mineral water bottle.)

 

He scanned through the surrounding area, where he saw an alcove right next to the fire exit.

 

It smelled like sweat and stale cigarettes, but at this point, he didn't care. So long as it was hidden enough that he could do his business quickly without anyone noticing. 

 

Rmptying out the contents of the bottle, he whipped out his trusty Swiss Army knife and swiftly cut a hole throught the small opening. 

 

As he ped his pants, he wondered briefly what his hyungs would think of fame now. Would they still find it impressive, even as he stood there peeing into a mineral water bottle. 

 

"At least it'll make for a good story" he thought, as he swiftly finished, grimacing at the newly filled bottle in his hand. 

 

What to do...

 

He peeked back out into the hall...Empty. No one seemed to have seen what he just did. 

 

Letting out a sigh of relief, he casually stuck his hand out the window...and tossed out the bottle. 

 

If only things had ended there. For no sooner had he pulled his hand back in, did he hear a woman squeal from beneath the window.  Quite near where he just tossed out his...bottle. 

 

"My boots!" 

 

He could have sworn there was no one there. 

 

His first mistake, had been to poke his head out and look. He should have just quietly snuck out, dignity intact, and spent the rest of his life forgetting this embarassing incident. 

 

But instinct took over, and he somehow found himself leaning out the window, staring dumbly at the alleyway below. 

 

Where he found a girl about his age clutching a tray full of coffee, glaring at him through the fringes of her dark, rather disheveled hair. 

 

He wanted to apologize. After all, he did throw a bottle of piss that nearly landed on her head. And he did try. Except his mouth couldn't quite form the words.

 

Instead, he just stood there, face burning as he gripped the window in shame. 

 

He couldn't even hide. And he knew for sure that she would remember him. For he was absolutely certain that he would remember her, perhaps for the rest of his life. 

 

"YOU!" She looked absolutely livid. He could see vains popping across her flat forehead, and her eyes were burning with anger. 

 

"You, you...ert!" She was on the move now, never taking her eyes off him as she quickly strode through the filth. "What the hell do you think you're doing! Yah! Where are you going! Apologize, you filthy scum!"

 

His second mistake was not moving fast enough. 

 

Perhaps he should have fought harder through his temporary paralysis and yelled an apology. Or maybe even met her downstairs so he could get down on his knees and beg her not to tell anybody. 

 

Regardless, he took the cowards way out and decided to book it. He'd just taken a few steps back when someone called him. 

 

"Hyun Joong?"

 

Startled, he turned around to find Yoona, cellphone in hand, glaring at him.

 

"Neh?" He immediately moved away from the window, pretending that nothing special had happened. 

 

She rolled her eyes at him before speaking on her phone. 

 

"Beom Soo, I found him. He was...never mind, it's not important." Her hand had already latched onto his elbow and was impatiently guiding him out into the hall. "We'll be there in five minutes."

 

The battle begun as soon as she hung up.

 

"Where the hell were you? Do you know what time it is? You still have to do wardrobe and make-up. Not to mention review the final questions for the interview."

 

"Um, I was just...uh." 

 

She held one slim hand up. "Forget it, I don't care. God, would it kill you to tell us before you decide to go on these mini-excursions?"

 

Even in the busy hallway leading to the auditorium, men stopped to admire the vision that was Im Yoona, confidently cutting through the disorganized masses in killer heels and a designer suit. 

 

He know how they felt. He used to be one of them, except now he knew better.

 

"You smell like cigarettes." Her eyes narrowed. "Have you been smoking?"

 

"No." He answered quickly, knowing that smoking was on her long list of things not to do lest it endanger his fragile public image. "It's that alcove. I think students treat it as some sort of smoking lounge."

 

"What were you doing there anyway?" Her annoyance mounted as they entered his dressing room. "You are so weird. And why the heck is your face so red?"

 

**********

 

Jung So Min snuck through the back door of The Cubicle, the in-house gallery for the Seoul School of Art, hoping no one would notice her. 

 

The earlier ordeal had caused her to be an hour late. Which meant  the coffee was now cold, and her colleagues were calling for her head. 

 

As they always were. 

 

She peered through the hallway, which was strangely deserted, before tiptoeing to the pantry. Also empty. 

 

She had just popped the cups in the microwave when Lee Ji Eun, the receptionist, walked in and sqealed.

 

"Eeek!"

 

"Ack! Kamchagya!" So Min nearly screemed, stopping herself and putting a hand over Ji Eun's mouth to keep her from doing the same. 

 

In a building full of frustrated artists and brooding academics, Ji Eun--with her youthful personality and quirky traits--was a breath of fresh air. She was So Min's best friend at work, and therefor loved her to death. But she was a bit excitable. 

 

Sometimes too excitable. 

 

"So Min-ah!" Ji-Eun squealed, as soon as So Min released her 

 

"Shhh!" She looked around, making sure no one heard them. 

 

"Where were you? Everone's been looking for you."

 

"Ugh, don't ask. I ran into some jerk on the way." She looked around. "Speaking of everyone...where is...everyone?"

 

Just then, a throaty voice wafted over the smell of heating coffee. "At some concert."

 

Jang Geun Seuk, resident artist, tortured soul, and wonder boy extraordinaire sauntered with his usual mildly distressed, but devilishly charming half-smirk. 

 

She could feel Eun-ji barely containing her squeal, as flowers and rainbows practically jumped from eyes, while she merely rolled hers. 

 

"Is that my coffee?" 

 

The microwave dinged and he gave it a disdainful look. 

 

Not that it was anything new. He was always mildly dissatisfied, or distressed, or sullen, or just plain uncomfortable. As if he had a pebble that he could never get rid of in his shoe. 

 

People--or was it fangirls?--attributed it to his constant drive for perfection. The artist reaching into himself, plumbing the depths of his psyche to aid his canvas expressions. 

 

"Here." She handed him a cup, along with some napkins, which he reluctantly took.

 

"Microwaved? If I wanted re-heated coffee, I would have just gotten it from the vending machine and saved myself a few hundred won."

 

"Why didn't you?" she muttered under her breath, earning her a slight kick under the table from Ji-Eun.

 

Geun Seuk gave the two of them one last look, ran his hand through his rogueish long hair, before turning to head back to his studio. 

 

So Min stuck her tongue at his retreating back before yelling "Thank you!", to which he turned around and said 

 

"You're welcome...and by the way, you smell like pee."