It’s been a while but I just found some old drafts of mine that I thought would be a good idea to post so I don’t have piles and piles of paper in my possession. Also, it’s nice to see how you’ve grown and how things can change once you actually start typing up a story. (This will be me commenting.)

(I don’t even know what I was thinking when I decided on this plot in the beginning, Uh, Taecyeon was the big boss man with Junho and Chansung as, the “bodyguards”. Wooyoung was our troubled actor and Chiyoung, an original character that I apparently pulled out of my was the angelic charge of the ever meticulous Junho. I’ll leave notes as I go on, I guess.)

“Chansung, you are an idiot. Junho, you are also an idiot. Both of you are idiots.” Taecyeon picked a thick file off of his desk and I braced myself knowing he would slam it down as a way of expressing his frustration. (I have to say… I don’t know what they were in trouble for, don’t remember. But. Ladies and gentlemen that is why we develop solid plot lines and don’t try to create mystery.) Which he did but then the folder exploded everywhere.

“.”

He scrambled around trying to get all the papers back in while still reprimanding us.

“Listen. Both of you are our best but I’m not going to suspend you as much as I’m aching to for you two being idiots. Thank your lucky stars because that was my first decision.” (Apparently Taec was an 86-year-old woman. “Lucky stars”? Jesus.) In his haste he spilled his coffee on the floor, the mug shattering on the wood before he suddenly stood up and stared dead at us.

“Anyway. You’re switching charges, for a month, as punishment. Lucky for you, they’re both starring in the same film.”

My jaw dropped. (Ask me whose point of view this is from because I’ve yet to clarify that. It’s Junho. Junho’s point of view.)

“What? You can’t- I- What?”

“Okay. Out.” He didn’t even care that I wanted to protest, he was more concerned about the black coffee catching the white carpet situated behind his desk.

“But-”

“No buts. Out.”

As soon as we left, Taec stuck his head out of his office door and smiled sheepishly at his secretary, Eli, who simply rolled his eyes and called for a janitor.

“Is it a bad mess, Mr. Ok?”

“About a 7, my mug broke.”

“I just bought you that one on Wednesday, Taecyeon. Jesus.” (Okay. I remember that in this universe that I created Taec was actually romantically involved with Eli, but it was a secret they had that everyone already knew about, you feel me? Okay. Moving on through the rest of this short disaster.)

I couldn’t believe my ing luck, Korea’s sweetheart, Kim Chiyoung was going to be in the ever fallible hands of the Korean Ethan Hunt for a whole month while I dealt with the mobile disaster (Hey! Here’s where the idea for the name of this story came about, we’re making strides, my friends.) that was, Jang Wooyoung. Shoot me.

(Okay. Now we move on to a a few days later when Chansung+Chiyoung and Junho+Wooyoung are on set together, apparently between scenes. Roll Tape.)

“He’s really good to me, you know.”

“What?” I wasn’t in a talking mood and this /child/ couldn’t take a hint.

“Chansung. When I was sick once he spent the night to make sure I got better.”

“Well, that’s nice.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Never said that.”

I sighed and looked off to the side where Chansung was standing with Chiyoung. She saw me and waved wildly, earning her a short wave of my own.

“Listen. I know you don’t. Chansung told me.”

“I don’t know why that blabbermouth would do something like that.”

“He’s the closest thing I have to a best friend. I don’t know if he knows that, though.”

“How heartwarming.”

Our so-called conversation as cut short by the call to get back on set since the sun was going down in a matter of hours.

(Yikes. Well. Folks. That was it. Thank God.)