Emma found herself waiting in the largest room of the pack’s den. The chamber, of course, belonged to none other than Donghyun.

            The bed remained unmade, the sheets in a pile to the side, the pillows still held the imprint of the wolf-man’s head. Bright lights had been lit, hurting Emma’s eyes which had quickly adjusted themselves to the dim lighting of the place. Bookshelves lined the walls, journals and books tightly squeezed together. The layout was similar to Hyunseong’s room with two doors that Emma suspected lead to an even larger closet and bathroom. It was an unremarkable room save for the many framed photographs that rested atop the shelves and the grand piano centered on a luscious, expensive-looking rug.

            The young woman inspected the photographs with care, curiously. In several the twins posed together with Minwoo. Emma was amazed at their similarity, if it weren’t for the different dyes in their hair she would be unable to tell them apart. However, when upon closer inspection she found one of the twins’ eyes always gleamed with mischievousness while the other half’s swam in genuine kindness and sentimentality. Minwoo was the youngest, she had heard, but she could see the deep calm, the reasonable mind, perpetually settled in his brown eyes.

            Jeongmin’s photographs were astounding. It seemed that he was never caught unaware, his face and smiles were perfectly angled in regards to the camera. Emma smiled at his vanity, finding it somewhat charming. In one particular photograph, she found Jeongmin sitting in a large carpet of green grass, the spring trees behind him, a guitar resting on his lap.

            When she came upon Hyunseong’s photographs, her smile broadened. He’d grown up handsomely, but she had always known that he would. What warmed her heart the most was how all his smiles, his gaze, his postures retained the gentle shyness that had always belong to him. It was his trademark characteristic; a gentle shyness that kindled gentle love. She wondered why he had never sent any pictures and made up her mind to ask him for a copy of everything the next chance she got.

            On the other hand, Donghyun’s photographs always seemed a little too close, as if the other boys had had to get near and catch him unawares before they could capture anything. Among the images of his pale skin, bright sapphire eyes, she found one that made a tingle run down her spine. Perhaps it had been taken years before, when his hair had not been blond but dark brown; he wore a red and black checkered shirt, his expression somewhat startled and gentle.

            In another, he was with Minwoo. It was obvious that Minwoo had taken this photograph, for his arms were outstretched before him. Donghyun had his arms wrapped around his dongsaeng’s shoulders, his smile natural as he looked into the camera. Emma supposed that Minwoo had aimed to take the photograph without informing Donghyun beforehand because his own bright, cheerful grin was missing, replaced instead by a hasty smile that appeared to have settled in just in time for the picture to be taken.  

            There were many photographs of Donghyun, but the ones in which he wasn’t with one of the members of his pack always retained that startled, caught-unawares expression.

            Emma found a framed memory in which the entire pack sat together in a common restaurant with heaps of meat cooking in the grills. Their cups were filled with a clear liquid that she figured to be alcohol. The boys all smiled at the camera with genuine happiness. Emma had never seen such happiness before.

            Among the intimate moments of the young pack were images of strangers. In some pictures, the pack was nowhere to be seen. Instead, large groups of girls huddled together, making V-signs at the camera; the groups of boys stood in relaxed postures, content smiles on their faces and an air of achievement around them. Sometimes, the pack was found among the larger groups, their grins wide, almost silly.

            “Ah!” Emma thumped her hand with her fist; she was looking at their extended pack!

            She had not expected the sentimental array of accumulated photographs, of a life’s memories. She decided that cold, chic-looking Donghyun was not as distant or mean as he appeared to be.

            Moving away from the frames, she walked over to the grand piano, sitting before it with an erect back, a familiar posture. The keys felt smooth, yet worn, under her fingertips. The urge to play welled within her. Before she could strike a single note, Hyunseong’s hand ge