Hoya sometimes wondered at how he and Sungjong could have been so lucky.

They’d been living there for two and a half weeks now, taking great care in ensuring that not a single soul knew about their existence in the house. Since it was a semi-detached house, it was important to keep their voices down so that the neighbours couldn’t hear. They stayed to the far end of the house, venturing into the rooms connected to the neighbour’s house only when they had too. Staying away from windows was another huge factor, since they couldn’t pull the curtains in fear of looking too suspicious.

The hardest part was getting enough food. Grandma’s pension was enough to cover expenses for herself only. And feeding two extra mouths was hard. They coped for a couple of days before Grandma got out her box of jewels and put her coat on to go to the local jewellers. Hoya had tried to stop her, promising to get by with a slice of bread but she refused to hear of it, and drove away in her car. Since then, she stubbornly made hearty meals for him and Sungjong each night.

“You’re growing boys,” she said in her usual sharp voice, “you need to eat and recover. Pay me back once you clear your names of being filthy criminals.”

Hoya wished he could simply transfer all the money in his account to her. But that would have brought the police swarming in the area. It had already been hard enough sending a picture of him and Sungjong to a random fan’s address. They had combed through the photo for hours, making sure that there wasn’t anything that could tip the police off. It had been worth it though – to watch the charity show broadcast and see the members’ relieved faces. And no doubt, the picture would have reached his parents too.

On the brighter side, his arm had been getting better - though he was forced to keeping it in a cast to make sure the wound heals fine. It was frustrating not to be able to fully practice his dancing, but at the same time, he was just grateful that his arm was going to be fine.

Just the fact that he and Sungjong were living comfortably in a warm house, away from the tiny hole under the bridge full of mould and dirt...Hoya sometimes woke up from nightmares that he was back there, with a bleeding arm and pain that flared so intensely that he wished he were dead.  

Trust Sungjong, Hoya though with a smile, to find someone willing to house two grown men on the run.

But then again, Grandma had taken a true shine to Sungjong. She barely ever said it, but it was there in the way she insisted on combing his hair in the morning, fussing over his clothes...and there was a real worry in her eyes each time the court date is brought up, a worry Hoya knew would be reflected in his own eyes.

In different circumstances, Hoya didn’t think he’d like Grandma. She wasn’t warm like his own grandmother, her words too stern and glare too harsh. And her distaste for kpop didn’t help make her more endearing.

“You’re just upset that she doesn’t like your dancing,” Sungjong said with a giggle.

“No.” Hoya glared. “Though the fact that she doesn’t like my dancing just shows how little she knows.”

“Your dancing does look aggressive sometimes,” Sungjong said, hiding his laughter behind his hand.

“That makes my dancing more charming,” Hoya scowled. “And I can’t believe she called me a ert! Why did you even show her that youtube clip?”

Sungjong was laughing so hard that he was almost slipping off the kitchen chair. “She...haha....her face when you tore off your shirt and started hip ing...haha – oof!”

Hoya shoved the younger boy, who collapsed to the kitchen floor in a giggling pile. He had to smile to see the maknae looking so carefree. Even the impeding court date – just a week away - didn’t seem to dampen his good mood these days.

The kitchen door opened and Grandma stepped in. “Boys, your group is performing now.”

Hoya raced Sungjong to the living room. It was a cosy room, especially at night since the curtains were drawn and they could switch on the warm lights. Above the mantelpiece hung a picture of Grandma’s late husband, a handsome man in his thirties dressed in a military uniform. Hoya had once asked her about him, but her silence and the sorrow in her eyes stopped him from asking again.

Sungjong sat in front of the tv, a wide smile spreading across his face to see the other members. They were at the Seoul’s music awards night, ready to receive “Best dressed” if Hoya remembered correctly.

The group was performing “Attack”, and Hoya could see where Dongwoo had changed the choreography to make it more impressive with just five members. His limbs itched to dance too, but the tinge of pain in his arm reminded him not just yet.

“They look good!” Sungjong said, nodding his head to the rhythm. “Right Grandma?”

Grandma took her seat in the old armchair. “They look like flailing beetles. But then, what do I know of the dance trends these days...”

Sungjong laughed and pulled Hoya to sit down beside him. Hoya stared at the tv screen. The members dancing was good, but there was an obvious strain on their faces. Sunggyu’s eyes were tired, Dongwoo’s smile had lost its brightness, Woohyun’s glare was too real, Sungyeol’s face seemed haunted and Myungsoo seemed to be using L as his continuous shield. No doubt the courtdate was just as firmly fixed in their minds.

As he watched, he noticed the fans’ excited cries change slowly. Hoya frowned. It wasn’t the usual fanchant. The fans were singing a song, drowning out the sound system. A song different to “Attack” but with a new sweeter melody –

“I know it’s hard,

It feels like the world is crumbling down,

But I’m right here beside you,

So my love smile, please”

Smile.

The fans were singing “Smile”.

Hoya bit his lip, tears unexpectedly springing to his eyes at the memory of the song they’d been so excited to introduce. Next to him, Sungjong’s breath hitched.

I won’t let go of your hand,

I won’t leave you behind,

So my love, don’t frown so hard,

Just smile, please smile”

The other members stopped performing, their eyes wide as they stared at the Inspirits in the crowd. The camera panned towards to crowd too, where fans held up identical large boards with lit up writing. “Infinite, please smile truly once again. Sungjong will be fine.”

The camera panned back to the Infinite members, along the way, garnering some reaction shots of various celebrities with shocked or amazed faces. Eventually the camera ended on the members’ faces. Woohyun was already sobbing, trying to sing along. Dongwoo was back hugging Woohyun, a wide smile engulfing his face. Myungsoo and Sungyeol were openly crying too but they tried to sing along. Sunggyu had turned completely away from the camera, his shoulders shaking.

Hoya released a deep breath, amazement welling up in him –

Knock knock

Hoya stopped breathing, praying that he had misheard, but Sungjong’s horrified face told him he hadn’t.  

“Upstairs,” Grandma said, throwing her knitting to one side. “Just like we prepared. Go!”

Hoya grabbed Sungjong’s wrist, towing him along as he raced to the stairs. His heart hammered against his rib cage. No one had visited Grandma at all since they’ve been there, and no one had any reason to, according to the old lady. Who was knocking?

He and Sungjong ran into the master bedroom. They headed to the large cupboard, opening the door and getting in. Hoya sat himself the corner of the cupboard before pulling Sungjong into his lap, careful to avoid his injured arm. They upended the pile of folded clothes next to them and covered themselves messily. Chest heaving, Hoya pulled the cupboard door close, shrouding them in darkness. He hugged Sungjong tight to his chest as loud voices from downstairs reached his ears.

A man’s spoke gruffly. “Listen here, lady! Your next door neighbours say that they heard male voices through the walls. And that you’ve been buying more food than usual.”

“My appetite has increased,” Grandma said sharply. “So what? And I like watching dramas! That’s probably where those interfering busybodies heard it!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but we have a warrant here to check.” A new male voice entered the conversation, the speaker sounding older.  

“I’m not hiding criminals in my house!” Grandma said shrilly. “But you’re welcome to check if you want! Honestly!”

Sungjong was trembling, and Hoya himself couldn’t stop his harsh breathing. Fear gripped his heart tight. They had been careful not to leave traces of their presence, but their plates of food in the kitchen were still there, and surely, the police would question why Grandma was sewing male clothes?

Hoya bit his lip hard, almost drawing blood. What should he do? Should they find a better place to hide? Maybe under the bed? He stiffened and clamped a hand over his mouth as the bedroom door creaked open and the sound of heavy footsteps echoed.

He heard the policeman rifle through the curtains and pull back the bedsheets. There was a loud screech as the bed was moved so that the policeman could check under the bed.

The footsteps came closer to the cupboard and Hoya clutched at Sungjong’s arm, sure that he was leaving bruises with the force was using but he couldn’t help it. The police can’t find them. He couldn’t let Sungjong fall into Xioumin’s hands.

The cupboard’s door open, light streaming in. Hoya held his breath, praying that the policeman wouldn’t mess with the pile of clothes in the cupboard’s corner. His hopes were dashed as the pile of clothes on top of him and Sungjong were pulled to the floor.

Blinking past the sudden light, Hoya stared at the policeman. An old man, like Grandma probably in his late sixties, and wearing a uniform too tight for him. The man’s eyes were wide, and Hoya could almost understand how surprising it was to find two young men in a cupboard.

They stared at each other for a second that felt like a lifetime. Hoya opened his mouth – to beg? to plead? – but no words would come out, and he sat frozen like a stone statue, wishing that some sort of idea would come to mind.

The policeman’s eyes softened and he leaned forward. Hoya tensed but the policeman simply ruffled Sungjong’s hair and nodded to Hoya before placing the clothes back on them. Hoya didn’t breathe until after the cupboard door closed. Voices reached their ears again, coming from downstairs.

“There’s nobody upstairs, sir. I checked everywhere.”

“You see! I told you there’s no one in this house!”

“Fine! We’re going, old lady. Have a good night.”

The courtdate finally came, despite Hoya willing it to stay away. He woke up with butterflies in his stomach, finding Sungjong already smartly dressed in a suit.

“Grandma fitted it to my size,” Sungjong said, smoothing out the wrinkles. “It used to be her husband’s.”

Hoya took a deep breath and threw his quilt off. It took an hour for him to get ready, his hand shaking each time the mental picture of Sungjong being dragged away in cuffs came to mind. Grandma had fitted him another one of her husband’s suit, though he noticed with a flicker of amusement that it didn’t have the same neat embroidery as Sungjong’s did.

“This is favouritism,” Hoya said jokingly at the kitchen table, pointing at the frayed threads of his sleeve.

Grandma sniffed, combing Sungjong’s hair carefully to one side. She herself was dressed in a smart black blazer. “Nonsense. I don’t have favourites.”

“Then why don’t you comb my hair?” Hoya asked, dragging a hand through his hair to make it messy.

Grandma shook her head sternly. “Do your own hair, you silly boy. You’re the hyung, aren’t you?”

Sungjong pulled his tongue at Hoya, a small smirk tugging the corner of his mouth, and Hoya found himself smiling back. A rush of affection for the never smiling old woman welled up in him. He was going to miss her once everything was over.

They made their way to the courtroom by car, with Grandma driving and Hoya and Sungjong sitting in the back, pretending to sleep so that passing cars couldn’t see their faces. The traffic was slow though, and as much as Hoya didn’t want to get there, he began to worry as the time ticked by.

“We’re going to be late,” he said.

“By half an hour at most,” Grandma declared.

“Look like we’ll be late by two hours though,” Hoya frowned. The sick feeling in his stomach didn’t help. He felt as though he would throw up from anxiety. A hand slid into his and clasped it tightly, and Hoya fought back the tears as he looked at Sungjong. The maknae was breathing deeply, staying calm and composed.

Grandma switched gears and Hoya cried out as the car began speeding up. She swerved the car in and out of gaps, skilfully gaining ground and pushing ahead. Hoya clung to his seatbelt, wincing each time she did a dangerous turn.

“Ugh,” Hoya groaned. “I’m going to throw up.”

“Get anything on the backseat and I’ll make you scrub it, boy!”

They made it to the courtroom half an hour late, just like Grandma said.

“Where do I park?” Grandma asked.

Hoya replied, certain of the answer, “By the fans.”

He could see through the windows, a large congregation of journalists and reporters clustered around the entrance of the courtroom, but just next to them were the Inspirits, waving their flags.

Grandma parked and Hoya took a deep breath before getting out. The fans gasped and Hoya was instantly bombarded with loud screams of their names. Hoya bowed repeatedly, pulling Sungjong along behind him as Grandma led the way. They walked through the fans easily as the fans parted.

“Oppa! How is your arm?”

“Sungjong! What do we do?”

“It’ll all be okay oppa!”

Hoya didn’t trust himself to speak, another wave of nausea hitting him at the sight of the police guarding the courtroom door. He recognised one of them as the policeman who had seen him and Sungjong in Grandma’s house. He tried to smile but the dread overwhelmed him was too much.

Reporters began shouting questions at them as they walked through, cameras clicking frantically. Hoya simply ignored them and walked through the courtroom doors, nodding curtly at the familiar policeman.

It was a normal courtroom, was Hoya’s first impression. Rows for supporters and opposers to sit on. A judge at the head with the jury before them. A hushes silence fell as they entered the room, everyone staring with their mouths open. Hoya squeezed Sungjong’s hand, praying that it wouldn’t be for the last time, then let it go as officer ran to cuff Sungjong.

Hoya watched as Sungjong was brought to the accused stand, feeling disconnected as he walked down the pathways between the seat rows. Grandma had taken a seat at the back, but Hoya knew where his place should be and his heart jumped to the see s at the front row. He speedwalked forward and almost ran to join them, gripping Sungyeol’s hand tightly and being hugged by Myungsoo. Sunggyu nodded at him with a small smile, as if to say “You’ve done well”. But Dongwoo and Woohyun were nowhere to be seen.

Looking behind him, he saw his parents and Sungjong’s parents sitting together. Hoya could only nod to his father, and he thought something like pride flicker through his father’s eyes. Sungjong’s mother was crying, but she managed to bow slightly to Hoya amidst her tears.

There were others sitting in support for Sungjong. Hoya saw all their managers, most of their parents, other kpop idols – Sistar, f(X), BTS, Shinee, Teen top - , some presenters –Hyungdon was there looking very solemn, the Running Man cast, and – Hoya gasped – all the Shinhwa members.

“How’s it going?” Hoya asked Sungyeol under his breath.

“That Xioumin is a bastard,” Sungyeol whispered. “He’s just made a speech completely ruining Sungjong’s character. But we’ve got a back up plan. Woohyun hyung and Dongwoo hyung are bringing a USB – “

He stopped talking as the judge – a typical old man with a wig – spoke loudly. “We will continue the session. Will the accused speak?”

Sungjong stood up from his bench and took a deep breath.

Just as that moment, Hoya made eye contact with the man sitting next to the prosecutor. It was Xioumin, Hoya realised. The officer who had ordered for Sungjong’s arrest in the first place. The man smirked at him and Hoya shivered at the malice that glittered in the man’s eyes.

It was the look of a predator.

And Hoya had no doubt that Infinite was the prey.

Guys, I need a lot of motivation so please comment! =) I reread the story and am feeling sort of embarrassed at how strange the plot became halfway through. Seriously, huge apologies for the lack of research! Please pretend that this is Infinite in an alternate universe lol! xxx

Next chapter: Woohyun - Failure