“I still can't believe I have to drive you everywhere. Am I your chauffeur or something? I don't even get paid,” Jongdae complained good-naturedly when Jongin settled into the front seat.

“I still can't believe Dad would let me kill for my job, but won't let me drive without a license. And he won't let me learn because it's too complicated.” The younger pouted and sunk lower into the leather cushion. “What kind of logic is that?”

The nondescript Mercedes pulled out of the hotel's parking lot and onto the busy roads of Seoul, carrying two of the city's most wanted criminals. It was late afternoon -- the time when the sun was about to set, the lights were about to come on, and everyone was ready to have some fun. Which also meant traffic was .

“You don't actually kill for your job though,” Jongdae pointed out as he slammed the brakes when the light suddenly turned red. The two lurched forward ungracefully and Jongin made a noise of annoyance. “When was the last time you did what Dad told you to do instead of pushing it onto Sehunnie?”

“He needs practice.”

Jongdae scoffed at the nonchalant answer. He turned to see his brother pouting even harder and was torn between slapping and squishing him. He settled with swearing under his breath at some who honked the horn even though the light was still red.

“And anyway, I do kill,” Jongin continued. “I just like to choose the funner cases.”

“More fun.”

“Yes, mister grammar teacher.”

The older scoffed again. "Who even taught you grammar? Your math teacher?"

"Namjoon was an all around tutor," Jongin replied indignantly.

The two brothers settled into comfortable silence until classical music came on the radio and Jongdae reached to switch the station.

“No!” Jongin cried. “Don't you dare change the station. Tchaikovsky is the best!”

Jongdae rolled his eyes and his hand returned to rest atop the steering wheel. “What kind of target are you going to look for now? Someone who would bring you to see ballet performances?” he teased.

“Hyung, don't make fun of me for appreciating all the arts in the world," the younger whined. The driver scoffed in response. “Although, that's not a bad idea,” Jongin mused in afterthought with a smirk.

He looked out the window, taking in the beauty that was Seoul as the setting sun basked everyone and everything in a golden wash. There were so many people driving, walking, talking, going about their daily lives, unsuspecting of the dangers lurking under the shining lights. The occasional murders on the news shocked them, but they always recovered and moved on, forgetting about the horror and fear they should feel. Because really, those deaths never had anything to do with them, and when it did, it was too late.

Jongin traced a “K- a- i” on the window, the perspiration on his finger leaving faint streaks that Jongdae would probably not be happy seeing.

There was just so many people living, so many people he could kill.

~ ~ ~

“Hello, my favorite Kim Jongs!” Sehun called. His bleached blonde hair contrasted sharply with the overall dark atmosphere and complimented his pale skin as he made his way over to Jongdae and Jongin at the usual spot in their cousin Hyoyeon's bar.

“Hello, my favorite Vanilla!” Jongin replied, mocking the other's tone.

“Get out of my way, Chocolate,” Sehun demanded, staring pointedly at Jongin's feet which were propped onto the only empty seat and was given a bright smile in response.

When he saw the newcomer narrow his eyes, Jongdae groaned and shoved his brother's long legs onto the ground before anything else could happen. “Sit down, Sehun. And Jongin, stop being such a brat.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Sehun snickered and Jongdae heaved a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god, please.” He was only a couple of years older than the other two, but they were so much less mature that he was forced to act more seriously than he really was when they were together. And being an adult was exhausting.

He flashed a smile at the bartender -- a haughty girl who blushed with shyness -- and reached for his drink. “And none for you two,” he said, catching their stares.

“Why do we always meet here if you're the only one who can drink?” Jongin whined.

“And why do we even have to care about the legal drinking age?” Sehun followed.

“I like it here,” the oldest said, shrugging. “But maybe I can bend the rules if you two behave.” He tipped his head back and swallowed the drink, savoring the warmth that traveled down his throat. “But that probably won't happen.”

“I've decided that I don't like you.”

“Good to know, Sehunnie.”

Jongdae pushed a glass of soda over to the boy, who grudgingly accepted it and stabbed a plastic straw in between the ice. “So, how was your job today?”

“Boring,” Sehun answered, straw still in his mouth. “There weren't any people or even any cameras close enough that I had to be careful of.”

“You still have to be careful though,” Jongdae warned.

“Yes, Mother,” the younger muttered in the same tone as Jongin did before. “But a certain Chocolate called me during my job. Maybe you should yell at him.”

Jongdae turned to the other boy, but not to scold him. He would do that later when he was in the right mood. “Jongin, do you want me to h-” he began, but the focus of the conversation was staring intently off into the distance. “Jongin!”

The boy in question absently put a hand up in the general vicinity of Jongdae's face. “Shh . . . do you think that guy over there would bring me on ballet dates?”

Jongdae followed Jongin's eyes, while Sehun did the same with less curiosity. He scanned the room until he saw a man sitting quietly by himself, a bottle of cheap alcohol next to him. “I'm not really sure. Maybe?” Jongdae said. “But what about the cases Dad wants you to take?”

“Sehun can take them.”

“Excuse me, I want a social life too!” said boy quickly protested.

“Maybe when you're as skilled and rebellious as me,” Jongin replied distractedly. “But seriously! Do I look like a Junmyeon right now?”

Jongdae groaned and turned to eye Jongin. “Have I ever told you how weird it is for you to use that name as your alias?”

“Probably a couple hundred times,” Jongin said, shrugging. “But I don't really get why.”

“Maybe because that's the name of hyung's dead boyfriend?” Sehun supplied. “ Chocolate,” he muttered under his breath.

Jongdae could feel a hell of a headache coming soon and maybe some bruised knuckles if he couldn't restrain himself from punching his two companions. “Sehun, thank you but please shut up and no swearing. Jongin, why don't you stop staring at the guy and go talk to him. And me and Sehun are going to leave.” He let it all out in one breath and swiftly grabbed his newly refilled glass as soon as he finished.

“It's 'Sehun and I',” Jongin corrected pointedly, probably remembering the minor grammar lesson on the car ride. He was an expert at holding grudges, anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“But okay. And remember to do your thing with Lee's bank account, 'kay?”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.”

Jongdae was the least willing member of the family to do illegal things, but it was more in spite due to his inability to do much of anything that required coordination rather than his morals, ethics or pure heart. But as he watched his brother -- his only truly blood-related brother -- walk over to the stranger with a light bounce in his steps, he couldn't help but question how right it was for an eighteen year old to be so happy about killing. How right it was for someone who couldn't drink and didn't even have a driver's license to know thousands of ways to make murder seem like an accident. And the fact that Jongin's motive was to take revenge for Junmyeon's death just confused everything that much more.

“Sehun,” he mused out loud as the pair walked out of the dark bar and into the night life of Seoul. The stars in the sky paled in contrast to the dazzling lights everywhere, but he could still faintly see some well-known ones. There was the Sirius, and over there was the Polaris. That star was supposed to give direction, but he was sure everyone was still just as lost. “Do you think it's normal for you and Jongin to be so good at killing people?”

“What's your definition of normal?”

They chuckled and Jongdae stared up into the stars.

As I said in the foreword, this story was already written. But then my laptop broke and I lost all my files, including this fic...

I have about 10 chapters saved elsewhere, but I'm going to have to rewrite the rest of it TAT

on another note, i've been wanting to call kaichen the "Kim Jongs" for the longest time. I pretty much planned this story so I could use it lol