It was in early spring that found the Kim’s barber shop open for business on a quiet Sunday evening. Mr. Kim was lying down on the shop’s new comfortable couch, immersed in his usual mobile farm game. It had been an extremely busy day filled with a constant stream of impatient, demanding customers and he had finally got an opportunity to lie down and check on his virtual chickens. The shop only expected one more customer to arrive that night. 

Ryeowook was eagerly waiting for that person, standing at the front of the shop, his face pressed against the window, peering into the darkness outside. Mr. Kim had very recently promised his son that he was allowed to practice cutting the hair of regular customers under his supervision as long as: 1) the customer had given implicit verbal consent to have Ryeowook as their barber when they booked their appointment over the phone; and 2) it was not busy in the shop. That evening’s customer was the first one to meet the stated criteria, sending Ryeowook into a mass hysteria of hype and nervousness. He had already carefully taped his sketch (which he had spent all afternoon working on) on the mirror by the barber chair, had laid out all the necessary equipment that he was going to need, had placed his powder blue step stool by the chair and had donned his purple apron. He was all ready to go. He just had to wait for the customer to arrive. 

So there he was, face squashed against the glass, shaking him bum to a popular pop song that he was humming to stave off the childish boredom that comes with long periods of waiting. 

“Appa?” 

“Yes, Ryeowookie?” 

“When will Kyuhyunnie arrive?” 

“They booked for 8 so probably in another 5 minutes or so,” his tired voice replied.

“Appa?” 

“Yes, Ryeowook?” 

“Do you think I’m ready?” 

“Well, you’ve gotten a lot better than you used to be so I think it’s about time that you tried cutting the hair of a real person. But just remember, you won’t be doing it yourself – this will be both appa’s and Ryeowookie’s haircut. We’ll do it together, slowly. I will be helping you every step of the way and sometimes I might tell you to stop or to fix something. It’s all so that you can grow up to be an excellent barber, okay?” 

“I know appa, you told me lots of times already!” The boy said, exasperated. 

The barber sighed. 

“I’m just making sure that you know what we’re doing when Kyuhyunnie arrives. I know you like to be a leader and do things by yourself but right now what’s most important is that Kyuhyun-ah gets a haircut that looks nice. Got it?” 

But Ryeowook had stopped listening. Halfway through his father’s speech he had seen a vehicle enter the parking lot, causing him to bubble over with excitement. He was now holding the door open, visibly bouncing on the spot as he watched Kyuhyun and his father alight from the car. 

“Kyu-hyun-nie!” Ryeowook hugged the boy quickly as he entered the store then practically dragged him over to the barber chair. The two fathers greeted each other then followed the boys. 

“So, Ryeowook,” Mr. Cho commented. “I heard you’ll be cutting my son’s hair all alone today. Working hard for your future, I see.” 

Kyuhyun whipped around to look at his father, terrified. Apparently he wasn’t informed of his change in barber. 

“Well, no, I’ll be-“ Mr. Kim tried interjecting. 

“Yes, Mr. Cho. It’ll be all me,” said Ryeowook, a broad, cheesy grin splashed across his face, his chest puffed out in pride. 

Kyuhyun’s jaw dropped. He shook his head vigorously while gesturing ‘x’s to his father, panicked. 

“Ryeowook,” the barber stated in a firm voice, “What did I tell you earlier?” 

The boy deflated under his father's intimidating gaze. 

“Sorry, appa. Mr. Cho, appa and I will be cutting Kyuhyunnie’s hair together!” 

“That’s good Ryeowook-ah,” he said, visibly relieved that the boy wouldn’t go crazy with his son’s hair. He ruffled Ryeowook’s hair and nodded to the barber then retreated to the waiting area, burying his face in a magazine within seconds.

Kyuhyun breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I’m saved! With you helping Mister, I know I won’t look like that ugly hairy mannequin that Ryeowook-ah showed me last time!” 

“I’ve gotten a lot better than that since then Kyuhyunnie! Appa, tell him!” Ryeowook said, his arms at his hips. 

“He’s gotten a bit better since then,” The barber said gently, “But still, we’ll go very slowly and I’ll be helping him every step of the way. Right, Ryeowook-ah?” 

“Yes, appa!” He said as he draped the gown around his friend. 

“But before we start, Ryeowook, what do you say?” 

Ryeowook scratched his head, mulling it over before gasping in realization. 

“Thank you sooo much Kyuhyunnie for letting me cut your hair.” He gave the boy a courteous bow. 

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t stab me,” Kyuhyun deadpanned. 

“Okay!” Ryeowook stepped onto his stool and grabbed the scissors with a flourish, ready to cut hair. 

Mr. Kim put out his hand. 

“Wait Ryeowook, did you find out what Kyuhyun wants to have done with his hair?” 

Ryeowook gasped. 

“I’m sorry appa, I forgot.” He looked down at his friend. “So Kyuhyunnie I’m going to give you that hairstyle okay?” He pointed to the drawing taped to the mirror, looking inconvenienced. 

Kyuhyun shook his head in disappointment. 

“Ryeowook-ah, you’re pretty bad at this. Are you sure you want to be barber?” 

“Of course, I just need a little bit of ex-per-i-ence,” the older boy retorted bossily, highlighting each syllable of ‘experience’ as he snipped his scissors in the air. 

Mr. Kim sighed. 

“Kyuhyun-ah, my son put up a sketch of the hairstyle he designed for you on the mirror. What do you think? Or are you just here for a trim? Or maybe a different style?” 

Kyuhyun eyed the sketch suspiciously then nodded. 

“Okay, now Ryeowook-ah, what are you going to start with?” 

The two Kims slowly discussed the haircut and how to go about doing it. Mr. Kim was patient but strict with his son, making sure all the safety precautions were fulfilled prior to every cut, picking on his technique, stopping him if something was uneven. Kyuhyun was just as unforgiving, making snide comments here and there about how Ryeowook was much more suited to singing than cutting hair. 

The boy barber got more and more anxious with every comment the duo made. He was just about to make another cut when his father stopped him, noticing that he was now shaking. 

“Ryeowook-ah, are you all right? You shouldn’t be cutting someone’s hair while shaking. It’s dangerous.” 

And at that, Ryeowook dropped the scissors onto the side-table and crouched down on his step stool, bawling loudly. 

“Appa, I can’t do it! It’s too hard!” 

Mr. Kim bent down and hugged his son, trying to calm him down, but he was unsuccessful as the boy’s tears kept on flowing. Kyuhyun turned around and surveyed the scene from his chair, feeling guilty about ruining his friend’s first haircutting experience. After several minutes of watching Mr. Kim unsuccessfully attempt to calm down Ryeowook, he decided he wanted to help his friend feel better. 

He hesitated for a few seconds, glancing at his father, but then his face hardened into resolution. Ryeowook, his best friend, was more important right now. 

And so he started singing:

It doesn’t matter if I’m lonely. 
Whenever I think of you,
A smile spreads across my face

Ryeowook stopped crying, looking up to see Kyuhyun with his eyes closed, singing his heart out. 

“Ah, I know this one,” whispered Mr. Kim right by his son’s ear. “Isn’t it Hope is a Dream that Never Sleeps? From that drama that umma likes?” 

Ryeowook nodded and rubbed his face on his father’s apron, drying off his tears so he could see clearly.

It doesn’t matter if I’m tired. 
Whenever you are happy,
My heart is filled with love. 

“Wow, Kyuhyunnie’s voice is beautiful isn’t it?”

Ryeowook nodded once again, not tearing his eyes away from his friend. He was enraptured. 

My heart is filled with love.
Today I might live in a harsh world again.
Even if I’m tired, when I close my eyes, I only see your image (x)

Kyuhyun peeked at Ryeowook as he sang, an involuntary smirk spreading on his face when he noticed his friend’s quelled tears and dropped jaw. 

Ryeowook felt a blush spread on his cheeks. He looked away, pouting, and closed his eyes, not-so-secretly savouring the younger boy’s voice. 

When Kyuhyun finished singing, Mr. Kim broke out into extremely enthusiastic applause. 

“Wow, Kyuhyun, your voice is amazing. It sounds very smooth. And your singing is almost pitch perfect! Just like my son.” He continued clapping like a seal, encouraging his son to join along. 

Ryeowook gave Kyuhyun a few formal claps, trying to hide his appreciation under Kyuhyun’s caring yet arrogant gaze.

“Not bad, Kyuhyunnie, not bad. You’ve been practicing I see.” 

Kyuhyun laughed at the boy’s nonchalant attitude. 

“Just admit it Ryeowook-ah, you loved it.” 

Ryeowook was about to protest, but then realized that just minutes ago he had been bawling away, drowning in feelings of failure. He faltered and his stubborn resolve broke down. He nodded shyly, blushing even more than before. 

“It was very pretty Kyuhyunnie. Thank you.” 

The younger boy grinned, resisting the urge to gloat. He specifically avoided his father’s gaze, already aware of the usual disapproval and anger that would be present there. He hoped that the man had enough tact to not start yelling at him in the barber shop. Regardless, he figured he lost at least a month’s worth of home gaming time. But seeing the relief on his friend’s face, he decided that it was worth it. 

“Actually, that song isn’t really my style but it was the first song that I thought of when I saw you crying. You know why?”

Both Kims shook their heads. 

“It’s because you have a dream to become a barber now, Ryeowookie! I might not be happy about it, but I support you. So you shouldn’t give up!” 

Ryeowook eyes widened, b with excitement. 

“You’re right Kyuhyunnie! I shouldn’t give up hope. I can do it!” He picked up the pair of scissors he had dropped earlier, face set in determination.

Then he sighed, his arms falling limp to his sides. 

“But, I’m scared Kyuhyunnie. When I pick up the scissors, I start shaking,” he said in a quiet, dejected voice. 

Kyuhyun rubbed his chin, pondering his friend’s issue like a skilled detective. 

“Then, why don’t I sing for you?” 

From the corner of his eye via the mirror in front of him, Kyuhyun saw his father open his mouth to make, what he assumed, would be a flurry of scathing comments. He raised his voice and continued on, cutting the man off: 

“When you’re cutting hair, why don’t I sing songs for you? Maybe that will calm you down?” Kyuhyun continued on, trying to ignore his father’s increasing ire. 

“But it’s dangerous Kyuhyun-ah, what if you move and I accidentally hurt you?” 

“Then, why don’t you sing?” Kyuhyun said quickly, noting that his father was making to stand up and give his son a piece of his mind in close quarters. “You like singing so maybe that will make you feel better when you cut hair!” 

Kyuhyun saw his father close his mouth and huff, scowling, as he stiffly settled back into his chair. He knew he was never going to hear the end of it later. There goes another month of home gaming time. He sighed. 

Ryeowook considered the proposition. 

“Okay, I’ll try.” 

“Good, then sing me FT ISLAND’s Freedom.” 

Ryeowook picked up the scissors once more, looked to his father and nodded, ready for a second attempt. He lifted up a small bundle of hair with his non-dominant hand and gulped, the scissors poised and ready to snip. 

He took a deep breath. 

And started singing Apink’s No No No. 

“Oi!” complained Kyuhyun. 

Snip! Snip! Snip! 

Ryeowook continued the haircut with singular concentration, positively responding to his father’s plentiful suggestions, intrusions and assistance. He worked his way through a good portion of his library of girl group songs, with the inclusion of a rare (but equally loved) boy group song. 

Kyuhyun’s face was sour by the time the haircut was over - he had forgotten about Ryeowook’s intense love for girl groups. 

“Ta-dah, all done Kyuhyunnie!” Ryeowook announced with delight as he finished applying the last of the hair products. “Do you like it?” 

Kyuhyun examined himself in the mirror, face impassive. 

“It’s okay.” 

“You- you don’t like it?” Ryeowook mumbled, worried. 

The younger boy sighed. 

“I like the hairstyle, but I didn’t like the music.” 

“What? Just admit it! My voice is beautiful. Like a choir of angels!” 

“Yeah, but mine is much better,” he responded, and he suddenly started singing the bridge of DBSK’s Bolero, feeling the need to fix the other boy’s high-pitched version of it (and show off a little bit). 

As he watched Ryeowook inhale, ready to protest, he once again caught sight of his father in the waiting area. 

. He was already pushing his limits but he had gone too far. What was the punishment for this again? Six months? Six months of home gaming gone. Or maybe more. I’m going to have to steal Changmin’s DS again. 

Mr. Cho was now standing, seething, his fists balled up, the vein by his temples popping out the way it usually does when he’s past the point of anger. 

“Oh, you’re done Kyuhyun-ah?” he said in cool, steely voice. 

“Yes, we’re done Mr. Cho!” replied the oblivious Ryeowook in a happy-go-lucky, sing-song voice. 

The barber however, was not fooled. 

“Ryeowook-ah, please go ahead and ring up the price for Mr. Cho. I just want to double-check Kyuhyun’s hair and I’ll be right there.” 

His son acquiesced happily and skipped over to the counter. 

Under the guise of checking Kyuhyun’s hair, Mr. Kim whispered. 

“Will everything be okay Kyuhyunnie? It sounds like your father is not happy right now.” 

Kyuhyun nodded. 

“It’s okay, Mr. Kim.” 

“Are you sure? He doesn’t hurt you, does he? He seems to have quite the temper,” the man asked directly, realizing he didn’t have much time. 

Kyuhyun shook his head vigorously. 

“Appa would never do that. Sometimes he takes away my games, sometimes he grounds me, but he doesn’t hurt me.” 

Mr. Kim studied the boy for several seconds, searching for a hidden lie, then breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s good. It sounds like you’ll have some hard days coming up. Your father is very adamant about you not becoming a singer, isn’t he?” He paused. “Well, feel free to call Ryeowookie to keep you company. My son always has something to talk about. And if anything happens, you’re always welcome to come here.” 

The barber patted Kyuhyun gently on the shoulder.

“Good luck, Kyuhyunnie.” 

The livid Mr. Cho paid and walked to the front door, sparing only a curt nod for the barber. 

Kyuhyun got up and was slowly making his way to his father, sulking, when Ryeowook ran over and gave him a hug. 

“Thank you for cheering me up, Kyuhyunnie! I love you!” 

Mr. Cho snarled and pulled Kyuhyun out of the boy’s embrace, then stormed off outside, dragging his son behind him in tow. His furious, echoing yells began as soon as they passed the threshold of the store, piercing the serene nighttime atmosphere outside, turning the heads of shocked passersby. 

“Huh?” Ryeowook said, confused, as he watched Mr. Cho push Kyuhyun into the car.