A/N: I'll come back to edit it tomorrow. Please enjoy!

On Rainy Days by B2ST has already played for about thirty seconds when Cho blearily flutters her eyes open. Sleep sits heavily on her eyelids as she sees the walls of her room half-heartedly, eyes closing and then opening again slowly. Some of her hair is stuck on her cheek and flops her arm back to tuck the strands behind her ear before groaning and rolling over to shut her alarm.

It’s been about a week since she’s last seen Jongdae. Constantly under the clouds, even the others at work have noticed. But she plays it off, smiling tiredly and saying that she’s okay and that she’ll get over it. Her current mood helps her write lyrics; the fans are always er for sad, compassionate lines sung by a sweet, attractive guy.

She has another Skype “date” with Wei, as she likes to call them. He calms her down significantly, lets her forget the causes of her sadness. There are always jokes to throw around, though most of hers are the results of sass. When her stress increases, her sass also increases. She laughs it off though and he chuckles along with her, sometimes playfully whining that he’s been shot in the heart.

In the back of her mind, Wei reminds her a little of Jongdae: playful, nice, gentlemanly. She’s hoping that she will get to see his face, her current motivation to write a damn good title song for him to sing. Cho’s getting there, she believes, and as a result, spends hours in front of music editing software and in a studio by herself.

Every once in a while, Taemin pops in, also significantly cheering her up. Cho’s grateful for the SM family because they’ve all had their ups and downs, and no matter how many people say how awful SM is to their idols, Cho can agree that they know how to put people together for a team. EXO is doing really well, the six of them. She’s also met Jongin through Taemin, temporarily confused on who was who because of their similar features. Kyungsoo has offered to help her record in his free time, to which she beamed gratefully because there’s something about the male register fitting her songs better.

It’s her night at the basement bar again today, she realizes as she tosses the covers off her figure as she trudges into the bathroom. No energy to feel nice, she picks a pastel top and dark wash skinny jeans from her closet into the bathroom to clean up. Cho leaves the house with a piece of buttered toast in , munching it on the way to the bus stop and popping a mint into when she’s done.

She’s fiddling around with the beat of another song on Wei’s album when her laptop rings with the Skype ringtone. Cho picks up and it turns her cam on, though as always, she’s greeted by a black screen. “Where are you?” Wei asks, unfamiliar with Cho’s side profile and the color of the wall he’s seeing.

“In the studio. I’m messing around with a beat for one of your songs on the album.”

“Oh, is this a bad time?”

Cho checks the time and shakes her head. “I need a break anyways,” she sighs and leans back in her seat, arching her back to stretch it out. “So what’s crackalackin?” Cho asks.

“Nothing much. I got the rough draft you sent me yesterday. I really like it.”

“That’s good. It’s always bad singing a song you don’t enjoy.”

“And you can sing,” he jabs playfully and she throws a glare at the screen before turning in her chair to face the laptop properly. “I’m assuming that means you didn’t go to the gig last week then,” she comments off handedly, not at all sad that he didn’t show up.

“No, I did. You seemed...busy though. And you’re not supposed to know what I look like, remember?”

“Yeah yeah,” she waves off.

-

“Cho, have you been in love before?” Wei asks suddenly.

“You won’t go and spill about my personal life, right?”

“Of course not.”

Cho nods absentmindedly, looking to the side and at the two way screen separating her from the recording room that the idols usually stand in. She always looks away when thinking about what to say and how to say it, and still gazes in another direction when she starts.

“I have, and maybe it doesn’t count because it’s a childish first love. I fell in love with a boy named Charles in middle school--he was sweet, adorable, though I have to say puberty wasn’t doing too well for him. While all the other boys had changes in them, Charles didn’t really have much. His features were just matured more, face longer and cheeks more sunken in than the childlike chubbiness of them.

We had a rough history, but somehow we managed to stay friends. Things...ensued and ended messily. He called me something that I didn’t deserve to be called, and I didn’t provide him the security that he wanted most because his anger frightened me more than anything. But because it was a first love, I could never really forget my feelings until he entirely insulted my existence for something that I didn’t do wrong.”

“I had my fair share of crushes afterwards, and during my senior year, I fell in love with a boy. His name was Ty, a tall, intelligent white boy who was lanky and adorable. He was a junior but only a few days younger than me because I had started school in another state where the cutoff date was later than it was in Texas. I took him to my senior prom because I couldn’t imagine anyone else going with me--and it was a blast. I never got to tell him how I felt, but it might’ve been for the better because he’d probably stop being my friend if I had confessed.”

“I still regret it because he was the first guy I liked for all the right reasons. Charles was my only relationship, but again, middle school doesn’t count. And every once in a while, I think, what would happen if I did tell Ty how I felt? Would he have accepted me? Or would he have really pushed me away, as my friends and I originally predicted?”

“I’m sorry, I must be boring you,” Cho chuckles and looks down at her nails, mentally deciding what color she should paint them. “No, not at all,” Wei automatically concedes. “But…” he hesitates. “Is there anyone you like now?”

Cho stops and automatically thinks about Jongdae. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him, would it?

“There is,” she relents. “I just haven’t been talking to him lately.”

“Did he do something wrong?”

“No, I just had some revelations the last time I saw him. The only way I can put it is...he’s not my reality. Does that make sense?”

“...sort of. Has he tried contacting you?”

“He’s texted me a few times, but I’ve just been giving him short responses. Why are you so interested?”

“Because your life is more interesting than mine at the moment,” he laughs and Cho rolls her eyes at the laptop. At that moment, her phone rings to life and when her eyes flick over to see who the caller is, she freezes.

“--pick that up? Cho? Um, Cho?”

Her thumb hesitantly slides the green pick-up button across the screen as her hand puts the phone to her ear. “H-hello?”

“...hey Cho, it’s Minseok. Are you free?”

-

“I’m really sorry,” is the first thing that comes out of Minseok’s mouth when she sits down in her seat in a cafe with outside tables near SM. “I don’t know what came over me, but you were right, and I’m really sorry about forgetting your birthday and I’ve just been a horrible friend and--”

“Take a breather, Minseok. It’s okay. At least you apologized,” Cho softly murmurs and he smiles gratefully. But then it falls and his fingers tap his mug and Cho knows he’s got a lot to say. “What’s wrong?”

“Cho, I think I’m in love with Yeonhee.”

That was not what she was expecting.

“Yeonhee, as in the high school girl living with you, Yeonhee?”

He nods gravely.

“Minseok, that could be considered ia!” Cho hisses at him across the table, looking around to make sure no one’s heard her. “She is a minor and you are almost twenty-one! Might I add she’s only fifteen?!”

“I know,” he huffs, clearly frustrated with himself. “It’s just, I’ve never had anyone who’s had so much in common with me. And you can’t even tell when she’s fifteen whenever you talk to her--she’s that mature.”

“How are your grades?” Cho interrupts.

“Wait, what?” He splutters. “Um, they’ve been falling, to be brutally honest…”

“Kim Minseok!” She hisses again, this time forcefully poking his forehead with her right pointer finger. “Are you out of your ing mind?! Your mom is going to murder you--”

“I know, okay? I just…”

“It’s never going to work out. The end. If she’s as mature as you say, she would never give you the time of her day. You’re failing classes because you can’t stop thinking about her. Have you been picking her up from school?”

“Yeah, sometimes I pick her up and we go get food or whatever and--”

“Stop,” Cho interrupts again, holding a hand up and leaning back against her seat. She takes the last sip of her hot chocolate and crosses her arms afterwards. “You need to get your together. Now. And I mean it, or else you’re never going to get that engineering degree. You should not let a fifteen year old ruin all your plans and your entire future because she just has so much in common with you.”

“I know it’s not going to happen,” Minseok mumbles dejectedly and Cho softens as the sad lovestruck look on his face. “But I can’t help but just hope that something might happen.”

“Does she ask you to do a lot of things for her?”

“...yeah. Homework sometimes.”

“And you do it?”

“Yeah.”

“You pick her up from school a lot. What else?”

“Play basketball with her, teach her how to longboard…”

“Minseok, if you don’t do what I say, which is to start closing yourself off from her and learning how to say no, then I can’t help you. You’re the older one, you’re the one with the future. You are the one who needs to stop yourself. Come back to me when you finally get yourself together because you need space right now. But don’t hesitate to call me if it gets too bad, okay?”

Minseok dumbly nods and Cho picks up her purse, leaving the cafe with finesse and the feeling of a certain pair of eyes on her back as she ambles down the sidewalk towards SM.

-

“Are you okay?” The bar owner asks her when setting down a cup of water on the table. He can see the tired look on her face--anybody could. She nods and thanks him gratefully and exhaustingly. He claps a hand on her shoulder and nods before going back to the bar.

When the band before her finishes, she smiles at them as they pass by and they greet her in return. She picks up her guitar, walks over to the stool set up on stage, and speaks into the microphone as she quietly tunes. “It’s been a long week, but to everyone who’s feeling down, I think I have the list for you. Please enjoy.”

Halfway through her fifth song, catches on air because she’s caught sight of Jongdae sitting exactly where she had been earlier with a glass of rum and coke in his hands. And he’s staring straight at her.

She’s not ready to see him, she thinks to herself as she continues to sing the English version of Kiss the Rain and automatically looks elsewhere, subconsciously forcing herself to never look in that direction again. Cho can’t do this today. She can’t face the possible confrontation and thinks of a way to get herself out without him noticing.

During her break, she rushes over to the bar owner to ask if there’s a back door that she can exit through. He points to one not far from the restrooms, hidden after going down a slightly complicated path of turns and hallways, taking lefts and rights from the restrooms. Instructions written down on her hand, her second half of the gig starts up and Jongdae is still there, glass now half-empty.

She tearfully gets through her last song and hastily bows, quietly but quickly packing up her guitar and rushing off into the hallway under the restroom sign. Cho thinks she can hear her name and picks up the pace, soon only listening to the sound of her footsteps echoing against the walls and sighs in relief when she finds the door and jogs up the stairs and out into fresh air. She takes a deep breath and ignores the low ring of the custom ringtone she had set for Jongdae in her pocket, back resting against the brick wall and eyes closed.

After catching her breath, she pushes herself off the wall and turns when a voice stops her.

“Turn around and look at me,” the voice pleads.

Her eyes widen and her heartbeat picks up the pace, pounding heavily in her chest. Today is definitely not her day, she realizes and curses whoever might be in control of her fate at this moment. But then she no longer has to worry about turning because a dark mass appears from the alleyway in front of her and embraces her, a strong arm around her shoulders and a hand keeping her head to the owner’s shoulder.

“Who said she had to?” The body holding her asks with great animosity.

Minseok?

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