It all began in the deli at a prominent grocery store in Seoul.

Park Kyung was a struggling underground rapper who spent his days cutting and packaging meat and spent the evening spitting rhymes at open mics downtown. He hadn't been rapping publicly for long, but he was already making a name for himself at some of the places where he was a regular. According to the people who created the set lists, he had a way with words that drew in large crowds of female fans to what had been a predominantly male dominated fan base. According to those fans, he had a way with his tongue.

As much as he loved the underground scene, he knew he couldn’t make much of living that way and he didn’t particularly want to spend the rest of his life in the deli, so he started to keep track of the places that the scouts visited. He hadn't preformed at any of those places yet. First he needed to save up enough to afford the outrageous programs that came with being an idol. Not to mention the time to work on some really good tracks, but that was the real problem.

He would never admit it, but in the past several months, the quasi-famous Park Kyung was in a slump. The words weren't coming to him as easily as they had before. It was like his muse had left him high and dry, forcing him to repeat material. Already he had performed each of his songs twice at the open mic bars that he frequented. It wouldn’t be long until they demanded new material and Kyung wasn’t sure if he would be able to provide them with it.

Now, as Kyung slumped onto the checkout counter at the deli, head rested against his arms and his eyes firmly shut, he could feel the effect that the late nights were having on him. Of course, he could never admit that he was struggling; not to his parents who hadn't approved of his moving downtown to begin with, not to his manager who had threatened to fire him if kept falling asleep in the ham, and not to any of the random women that he picked up at bars when he became too overwhelmed and just needed a little stress relief.

Kyung heard heavy footsteps coming his way and he bolted upright, his eyes snapping open and his hand instinctively moving to wipe away whatever drool might slipped onto his cheek as he slept. However, the man in front of him was not his manager, but a man with bleached hair and questionable fashion decisions. Kyung found himself looking the man over once, taking in the studded boots, tight jeans, long shirt, and Americanized snapback. They were indoors and the man was still wearing sunglasses… what a douchebag.

It was unclear to him whether or not he had been caught in his assessment, but the man simply leaned against the counter with a smirk and said, “What’s up, Deli Boy?” He reeked of a sort of cockiness that made Kyung recoil.

“Can I help you?” He asked, trying to hide his disdain.

The other man was unfazed.

“I was shopping with my roommates over there,” he lazily motioned behind him to two guys, one who was tall and looked like he modeled and another one who shorter and had an altogether pleasant air about him. When they saw Kyung looking, the taller one smirked and the shorter one smiled in way that reminded Kyung of a kitten. There was no denying that they were odd combination of people, but he didn’t care enough to question how this group came to know each other. “And I mentioned that I thought you were cute.”

Kyung blanched. This guy could not be serious. Kyung was certainly not a homophobe, but he never had been and never would be interested in men. Did this guy get gay vibes from him? Was it the fact that he was wearing a pastel sweater? No, I couldn’t be the sweater. He had picked up plenty of women who were all too willing to practically rip this sweater off his body. Perhaps the sweater was a dude magnet as well?

He had force himself to focus on the task at hand. No matter how uncomfortable he was right now, this man was still a customer.

“Is there anything I can help you with in the deli, Sir?”

“You could tell me your name.”

Kyung tried not to roll his eyes. “Park Kyung,” he said quickly, “Now what can I get for you today, Sir?”

The other man didn’t seem to catch on to Kyung not-so-subtle hints that he was not interested - or if he did, he didn’t care. “I am Woo Jiho.”

At this point, Kyung didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there, waiting for the man to make an order, but they just ended up staring at each other. He became more and more unsettled, but Woo Jiho remained unruffled. Eventually, the roommates walked over the taller one laid a hand on Jiho’s shoulder.

“If you are done flirting, we have to go.”

The shorter one nodded and agreed. “Jaehyo hyung is right. Minhyuk will be over in an hour and we still have to cook,” he added.

Jiho sighed. “I won’t make you miss your date, Yukwon Hyung.”

The short one, Yukwon, turned a little red, but smiled in appreciation.

Kyung was ready to be rid of these men who apparently didn’t care much for social conventions or personal boundaries given the way they spoke so openly and touched each other in such a care-free way. It made him uncomfortable.

But apparently they weren’t done making him uncomfortable.

“I’ll see you later, Park Kyung,” he said before he walked away.

Kyung stared at them as they walked off, not hiding his incredulous expression any longer. “What the ?” Kyung whispered as he turned from the counter. In all of his time working in the service industry, he had never had such a strange encounter. That was the kind of stuff that happened to people in bad comedies. He knew his co-workers would get a kick out of the story, but he also knew that they would never let him hear the end of it if he told them, so he kept it to himself.

~~~~

There were three things that Kyung learned about Woo Jiho very quickly: he kept his word, he was very sure of himself, and he was very persistent.

At least once a week, Woo Jiho would show up at the deli and make small talk. It got to the point that Kyung couldn’t ignore him without being rude and when he complained to his manager, the latter warned him that he had to be nice to the customers even if they were stalkers.

It was the night of one these occurrences and Kyung was at one of the bars he frequented. He had come to scout out possible competition at the open mic, but he caught himself staring into his drinking thinking about Jiho instead of focusing on the rappers and that was not okay. With a quick shake of his head, he tossed back his drink and turned his focus to the stage where a man with obnoxiously colored hair and a deep voice was performing a rap about a fight he had with his girlfriend. Kyung had to admit that the guy was good, even if his stage presence was a little childish and his lyrics were sub-par at best. Not like he had much room to talk. He still hadn’t found a way out of his slump.

When the guy finished his rap, the room burst into applause and several of the females in the audience hollered and threw slips of paper – no doubt possessing their phone numbers - at him. Kyung applauded politely and watched the guy walk toward a pretty blonde girl. No wonder he hadn't even glanced that the women who hollered at him. But then he passed the blonde and Kyung watched more closely as he approached a very enthusiastic man who looked more like a child than the other acted. The taller of the two picked up the shorter one, spun him around once, and then kissed him firmly on the lips.

Kyung was a bit surprised. What was with all of these gays? When did he start wearing a neon sign that said ‘Bring on the dude love’? As if the universe had read his mind and decided that he need to be punished, Kyung felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned in surprise and then frowned.

There stood a smirking Woo Jiho. Somewhere under his shock and disgust, Kyung registered that this was the first time he had seen the other without his sunglasses and that his eyes were really nice and he looked kind of familiar, but he pushed that thought deep down and focused on his stronger, more immediate feelings.

“You really are a stalker!” He yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

“Relax, Park Kyung,” the blond said with short chuckle. "I came to see my friend rap,” he said, motioning to the man who just performed. Much to Kyung’s chagrin, the other two men noticed Jiho’s motion and approached Kyung’s table.

“Hey, Hyung! How did I do?” The performer asked.

“You were good, Jihoon-ah. You have improved a lot. I have some suggestions if you want to hear them later.”

At Jiho’s words, the younger’s entire face lit up. “Of course, Hyung!”

The short man-child who had been silent until then looked at Kyung with curiosity. “A friend of yours, Jiho-ah?” He asked.

Kyung did not miss the way he stressed friend and he knew the exact implication.

“Taeil hyung, Jihoon-ah, this is Park Kyung, an…acquaintance,” Jiho said, motioning to Kyung with a look on his face that Kyung couldn’t quite place. Hesitation? Embarrassment? Maybe a bit of greed? He pushed the thought from his mind. This man was a stalker, but he wasn’t going to call him out in front of his friends, so he just nodded to the other guys in greeting.

“He is definitely your type,