L strummed his fingers sluggishly as he waited for the man who had all the answers. Pulling his hood tighter over his head and rearranging his black scarf over his face to cover what his black sunglasses could not, he tried to act as casually as possible. It was around seven that night when he first entered the 3^rd Floor Coffee House in Incheon. He ordered a cup of coffee and waited. And waited. And waited.

            There weren’t many others in the café as L surveyed the quiet room. A lone student sat on a beanbag on the corner; late night lovers whispered to each other with hands clasped. A clatter and shuffled footsteps, his coffee arrived.

            L eyed his phone warily as it sat motionless on his table. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat, his fingers itched to recheck the email he received earlier that morning. Maybe he was being too suspicious. Maybe he watched too many movies. His eyes hardened as he took a sip of his coffee.

            No. He wasn’t wrong. It was unmistakable, the way the message voiced Myungsoo’s exact thoughts, the case itself, how could there be no evidence? No further investigation? He needed answers and this meeting would be key.

            “Kim Myungsoo,” a solemn whisper caught his attention. He heard the scrape of a chair dragging along the floor, warmth rested on his back. He resisted the urge to turn around as he saw a shadow reflected on the table.

            “Who are you?” He asked gruffly.

            The stranger ignored the question and started to shuffle with something in his jacket. L stayed still, careful not to look too impatient.

            “Do you want to know what really happened to Lee Byung-man?” The stranger asked and placed a thin manila folder in front of him. With curious hands, L unclasped the case and held up two thick packets that looked an awful like the company contracts that Myungsoo signed when he entered Wooliment.

  “What are these? Contracts?”

  “Read the terms and conditions.”

            L scanned over the lines, page by page, “…under the LOCK Agreement, an advance payment of one million won will be given in exchange for becoming a permanent member of Wooliment Entertainment and forfeiting all rights in his or her current and upcoming endeavors in the entertainment business until released by contract by the chief executive officer—wait, this can’t be true. This is illegal! A slave contract! Who would even suggest this, let alone actually agree to it?”

            The stranger didn’t appear to be swayed by L’s outburst. Myungsoo could still sense the man was still behind him.

            “This was proposed by your current CEO. Lee Byung-man rejected it, but after he passed away, it seems the proposal was put into effect. There are two trainees we know of who have signed this contract. Take a look.”

            Myungsoo ruffled through some more pages until he reached a photo of a boy with black styled hair, light brown eyes, and a cheerful smile. “Choi Dae-Gu?”

            Myungsoo flipped through the other packet to face another boy with tied up bronze hair and eyes that glared bullets, “And Shin Sung-rok?”

            He heard the stranger take a strong gulp of whatever he was drinking. “Yes, as of right now, we are certain of their involvement in LOCK. However, they are still trainees at the moment, so the contract cannot come to its full effect just yet. If we are to save these kids’ futures, we must find a way to terminate their contracts.”

  “Why are you telling me this? And what does this have to do with Byungman-sshi?”

            The man sighed bitterly, “In his attempt to protect these kids, Byung-man was… disposed of. His final wish was for us to do whatever it takes to stop Jun-Soo from initiating these slave contracts.”

            Myungsoo looked at the two pictures in front of him. Their faces still held remnants of baby fat yet to thin out when they reach adulthood. Their eyes, sparkled with little flecks of gold and amber, held images of hope and wishful thoughts in their bright shine. They were only fifteen. Still young. Still vulnerable to the influences around them. Myungsoo smiled faintly. He himself was only twenty-two, eighteen when he debuted with Infinite.

            Flashbacks of his trainee days fluttered through his mind. Sweat covered bodies too tired to continue, cries of anguish, muscles that ached whenever they moved. Left and right, neighbors, classmates, rivals, friends gone, leaving Wooliment’s glass double doors, many promises and dreams, unfulfilled and lost. Forever.

            But there were lots of smiles and laughter too. And that’s what L decided he would hold on to. Firmly in his grasps, he held on tightly to that thread which would pull him out of a hell that has brought so many others to despair. And even when that strand constricted his body, drawing blood and marking his skin, he would not let go because he knew he would make it. That he would make it from hell and back home again. Free. With his dreams right there in front of him.

            He shook his head. Those boys did not know what they were doing to themselves. They believed they have found that thread, golden, rich with the promises that brought L to his dreams. But they were wrong. That thread wouldn’t take them from hell. It would tie them up, bring them out to feel the light touches of warmth and freedom, then harshly bring them down again. But to a different hell, one that will never let them go.

            L opened his phone and looked at the silly group photo that Infinite took after their most recent concert together. Looking at the large grins that graced each Infinite member, no one would think something was wrong. But in fact, Sungyeol said something stupid to their new CEO a couple weeks earlier and garnered a lot of negative attention from the man. The tallest member wasn’t supposed to sing at all in the concert that day as punishment. But when “The Chaser” came on, we could clearly hear his voice belting out the clear pop tune that drove fan girls crazy.

            After the concert and one of Sunggyu’s worst scolding moments, Myungsoo took that photo. It was ironic actually. While they were supposed to be mad at Sungyeol for probably endangering the future of Infinite, no hurt or betrayal marked their smiling faces. And when they came to Wooliment the next day, the CEO could not say a word because on the front covers of all the music magazines and blogs were comments and love for Sungyeol’s solo.

            Byung-man's voice rang clearly in L's mind: Artists make the company, not the other way around. If you want to succeed in this business, have confidence in yourself and don't you dare let anyone take control of your talent. Trust me, you have no idea what power you guys have when the seven of you work together.           

            And then it hit him. Infinite was a lot bigger than they could have imagined. It was bigger, stronger, and more powerful than the man who wanted to control them. It survived, rebelled, and thrived. It was exactly what Byung-man predicted and what Myungsoo always hoped for. He glanced again at the young trainees’ photos. If Dae-Gu and Sung-rok wanted to flourish, they needed to break that false thread, grasp the real one, and escape that hell…even if L has to pull them out himself.

  “I’m in.”

The Infinite Story is taking longer than expected; I'm really sorry for the long wait! I'm writing another story along with this one, so hope you enjoy "Desert Prince" as well! :)