A cold breeze of February air burst into the room as Kyuhyun walked into the warm barber shop on a snowy weekend morning. 

“Happy birthday Kyuhyunnie!” Ryeowook squealed as he ran to Kyuhyun, hugging him. “Sohyunnie, come say happy birthday to Kyuhyunnie too! Baby Kyuhyunnie is finally nine years old! Hyung is so proud.” Ryeowook reached up and ruffled Kyuhyun's hair, sending melted snow in every direction. 

“I might be younger than you, but I'm still much taller than you piggy-ah!” Kyuhyun complained, shrugging off his parka. 

“Don't call Ryeowookie a piggy!” objected Sohyun, her arms on her hips. 

“It's okay, Sohyunnie. I decided Kyuhyunnie calls me piggy-ah as a nickname. You know, like how Hyungsikkie picked on Jieun-ah because he liked her? Kyuhyunnie only calls me piggy-ah because he loves me too.” 

“Oi, pigg-, I mean, Ryeowookie, there's no way that I love you,” Kyuhyun responded condescendingly, his cheeks reddening. 

“It's okay Kyuhyunnie; I know you're just shy. Don't worry, I've got lots of big birthday surprises for you! Sohyunnie helped me make them!” 

“Only because Ryeowookie said he was not going to be my friend if I didn't help him!” the girl whined, “I still don't like you, Kyuhyun-ah! You're not perfect like my Ryeowookie!” She back-hugged Ryeowook possessively, giving Kyuhyun a cold stare. 

Several loud laughs were heard from upstairs as Mr. and Mrs. Kim emerged at the top of the staircase accompanied by a chubby, red-cheeked woman. 

“Sohyunnie, get your coat on! We're going home!” the woman called. 

“Okay umma!” Sohyun replied, sparing another glare towards Kyuhyun before huffing and running to get her coat. 

“Oh and Ryeowookie,” added in Mrs. Kim, “I mixed everything up so your special project is ready for when you want to finish it.” 

“Yay thanks umma!” 

Sohyun scrunched her face up in annoyance at Kyuhyun. 

“You better like the surprises! You better! Ryeowookie saved all his allowanceses for them! He didn’t even come and eat ice cream with me yesterday!” 

Kyuhyun looked smugly at Sohyun, saying nothing. 

The girl stomped her feet, growling. 

“Let's go umma. I don't like him!” She stomped over to her mother, grabbed her arm and aggressively pulled her out of the store. Mrs. Lee’s loud yet muffled reprimands were heard from outside the store, growing fainter as the pair walked away until they were gradually swallowed by the wailing of the wind. 

“So, Kyuhyunnie,” said Mrs. Kim diplomatically as Mr. Cho made his way into the store, nursing a large steaming cup of coffee. “How has your birthday been so far?” 

“Good! Appa bought me ski classes and umma bought me a karaoke music player!” 

Mr. Cho sighed loudly behind the boy, shaking his head as he took off his coat. 

“I had asked my wife not to buy anything music-related but she did anyway. Kyuhyun's spending too much time on music these days, aren't you son?” He nodded at Kyuhyun, stopping on his way to the waiting area to join the conversation. “You should focus on things boys like – like sports or games or meeting girls, not music.” 

Mr. Kim gave Mr. Cho an appraising side-long glance, clearly having not forgotten about the man’s previous condescending comments about his son’s supposedly ‘weird’ un-boy-like behaviour. Kyuhyun crinkled his nose in disgust. 

“But appa, boys can like singing too! I like singing!” 

Mr. Cho rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to say something but got cut off by Ryeowook’s squeaky, excited voice: 

“Yeah, Mr. Cho, Kyuhyunnie loves singing! Me, as Kyuhyunnie's first and supreme teacher, knows how much Kyuhyunnie loves singing.” 

The man turned to look at Ryeowook, giving the boy a cool stare. He was once again about to respond when his son cut him off: 

“Since when did you teach me, Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy?” asked Ryeowook, cocking his head. 

“Because you're a shortie with short short legs. Even shorter than a piggy,” answered Kyuhyun, crossing his arms, looking proud of himself. Mr. Cho huffed, feeling ignored, and stomped off to the waiting room, sitting down resentfully. 

“I'm not short! I'm going to grow! Right appa?”

“Yes, Ryeowookie,” replied Mr. Kim tiredly, turning to Kyuhyun. “He's been drinking milk every morning without fail and measuring himself against the wall hoping to catch up in height with you. By the way, happy birthday Kyuhyun-ah.” Mr. Kim ruffled the boy’s hair. 

“We have a present for you. We'll give it to you after your haircut is done okay?” Mrs. Kim said, winking. 

Kyuhyun broke into a huge, goofy grin. 

“A present?” 

“Yeah, umma and appa got a present for you too, Kyuhyunnie. But my presents are much better!” commented Ryeowook.

The birthday boy snorted in response. 

Ryeowook rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll pretend like I didn’t hear that because it’s your birthday.” He stepped forward, snaking his arm around Kyuhyun’s, “I will you to your birthday throne now, birthday boy.” He walked Kyuhyun over to the prepared barber chair (which was messily decorated in streamers) and helped Kyuhyun settle in on his booster seat, putting on the gown. The barber followed slowly, checking on his phone.

“Ahem,” Ryeowook cleared his throat. “Because today is Kyuhyunnie’s most specialest birthday, I, Kim Ryeowook, designed Kyuhyunnie’s haircut all by myself.” He reached his hand into his purple apron and took out a folded piece of paper, carefully unfolding it and showing it to Kyuhyun. 

“Um, but…” said Kyuhyun quietly. 

“This here is the haircut.” The boy jabbed his finger at the messy, nonsensical drawing. 

“Yeah, but…” 

“It’s the haircut for people who want to sing really good,” Ryeowook continued on, ignoring Kyuhyun. “You know what I did? I looked at the haircuts of allll the singers I know like Kangta-hyung, Naul-hyung, Kim Tae Woo-hyung, K.Will-hyung, Wheesung-hyung and lots more and put it all together to make the best singer hairstyle ever! Because if you have the hairstyle of all the singers then the magic will become part of your brain and then go down to your mouth and one day you’ll wake up and you can sing like a profezinal.” 

“But Ryeowookie…” 

“This is part one of my super Kyuhyunnie birthday present plan. You better like it. I put all the powers of Ryeowookie into it so with Ryeowookie’s magic and the magic of all the singers, Kyuhyunnie can become a kind of good singer that’s not better than me of course.” 

“Oh…but…I want…” 

“It’ll look great on you Kyuhyunnie!” Ryeowook looked at the boy expectantly, eyes twinkling. 

The barber sighed upon seeing the one-sided conversation between the two boys. 

“Kyuhyun-ah, if you don’t want his hairstyle then it’s okay. Just because Ryeowook wants it doesn’t mean it’s necessary.” 

“But appa I worked on it lots! I spended hours and hours and hours and hours on it and I looked up so many pictures,” whined Ryeowook.

“But it’s still Kyuhyun-ah’s choice, okay?” he said gently to his son before turning to Kyuhyun. “If you want, I can give you a different haircut. You can choose.” 

“Umm, well Mister, I want a hairstyle like this.” He made an upwards gesture with both of his hands, “All pointed up and stuff.” 

“See? You can’t even describe it properly,” said Ryeowook. “Don’t worry, you can have that hairstyle next time when you have a picture like mine, Kyuhyunnie. Appa, give Kyuhyunnie the singer hairstyle.” Ryeowook snapped his fingers and pointed at his father. 

“Do you have any more details about the hairstyle Kyuhyun-ah?” the barber asked. 

Ryeowook pushed his messy drawing in front of the barber’s face. 

“Like this appa. It looks like this!” 

“Ryeowook…” his father said threateningly. 

“Um, it’s all pointed up and this part here is shaved and it only uses a little bit of gel but defies gravity. Lots of pro-gamers have it,” Kyuhyun responded.

“Hold on a second, Kyuhyun-ah,” the barber said, “I’ll search for it on the net.” He pulled out his phone and started googling. 

Meanwhile Ryeowook looked at Kyuhyun with dejected eyes. 

“But the singer hairstyle looks so much better, don’t you think Kyuhyunnie?” he asked, pleading. 

“Umm…” 

“And it’s a lot more profezinal right Kyuhyunnie?” 

“Well…” 

“And-“ 

“Ahh, I see. It’s a new style that came out recently. Do you want this hairstyle Kyuhyunnie?” Mr. Kim interjected, showing the photo on his phone to Kyuhyun, stopping Ryeowook’s attempt at guilt-tripping the boy. 

Kyuhyun nodded. 

“So,” came a weak, whining voice from beside the barber, “So you don’t want my birthday hairstyle then?” The two turned towards Ryeowook, who was standing beside the barber chair, his arms by his side, face downcast. The drawing dropped from his hands as he pouted, genuinely sad. 

The barber bent down on one knee, looking his son in the eye. 

“Sorry Ryeowook-ah, but you have to remember that sometimes the customer might not want the hairstyle you designed. As a barber, there will always be times when we want something different for the customer but in the end, it’s not our choice.” 

“But appa,” his voice broke, “I worked so hard on it as a birthday present for Kyuhyunnie but Kyuhyunnie thinks it’s ugly.” He started sniffing. 

“Oi, Shrimpy,” called Kyuhyun. “Who said that I didn’t like your hairstyle?” 

“Eh?” Ryeowook looked up at the other boy, unshed tears blurring his vision. 

“I said, who said that I didn’t like your hairstyle? I like it, but I made a promise with Changmin-ah that we would get the same gamer hairstyles for our birthdays this year! I can’t break a promise with my best friend!” 

“Oh, so I’m not your best friend Kyuhyunnie?” Ryeowook said, blubbering. 

“Well, you are, I guess, but I made this promise with Changmin-ah first! I’ll have your birthday haircut another day, okay Ryeowook-ah?” 

The crying boy nodded, still unhappy. 

“It’s okay Kyuhyunnie. Because I’m your best friend and I love you so it’s okay.” 

“Why don’t you go upstairs and finish off Kyuhyun-ah’s surprise with umma, Ryeowookie? I’ll give umma the signal later,” added in the barber, ruffling his son’s hair. 

Kyuhyun watched, disheartened, as the boy – his best friend - nodded gloomily then shuffled upstairs, still sniffling. Right before Ryeowook left earshot he yelled: 

“Ryeowook-ah, don’t be sad! You’re my favouritest best friend! I love you!” 

He smiled as he heard a quiet giggle from the top of the stairs, then the excited footfalls of a skipping Ryeowook from the floor above. 

“That was a nice thing to do, Kyuhyun-ah,” the barber said as he started on Kyuhyun’s pointy hairstyle. “Although now Ryeowookie’s not going to let you forget you said it. Ever.” The barber winked as he snipped away at Kyuhyun’s wet hair, enjoying the experience of cutting his first ‘anti-gravity’ hairstyle. 

Kyuhyun nodded distractedly, still a little bit worried about his friend. 

“By the way, how are your singing lessons going?” The barber asked.

“Um, I sang a song all by myself at my aunt’s wedding. My sister played the violin. Everyone said my voice was nice. They said I should become a singer when I grow up.” 

A loud disapproving snort was heard from the waiting area. Mr. Kim ignored it, deciding not to give Mr. Cho a soapbox for his opinions about boys and singing. 

“Wow, good for you Kyuhyunnie – your first solo! You must have been really brave to stand in front of all those people and sing, hmm? I remember Ryeowookie’s first performance - he was so scared that he was shaking and-” The barber giggled, “He didn’t even finish. Midway through the song he started crying and then ran off the stage screaming ummaaa! But shhh, don’t tell Ryeowook I told you, okay?” 

Kyuhyun joined the barber in giggling. 

“I was nervous too but I’m almost a man now so I have to be brave. That’s what appa told me.” 

“Yes, I did!” commented Mr. Cho, “Men must be strong.” 

“That’s great Kyuhyun-ah! Battling stage fright isn’t easy. Being able to push through your nerves and give a great performance is an admirable feat for any person.” responded the barber, attempting to counteract the other man’s outdated views.

“But I have to practice a lot more because I get really really nervous when I have to sing by myself. I start shivering and I can't stop.” 

“I think everyone gets nervous before a performance Kyuhyunnie. Even Ryeowookie - although these days my son has more difficulty getting off-stage than on-stage. I think music camp really helped him deal with his nervousness.” 

“Really?” asked Kyuhyun, curious. 

“Yes, at music camp, each person has to do a solo or group performance every day in front of the other camp-goers so they learn to be comfortable on-stage. Ryeowook likes that part a bit too much - at least based on what the councilors have told me.” He chuckled. 

“Hmm, then maybe I should go...I need to practice,” Kyuhyun mumbled, mildly interested.

“Not if I could help it,” murmured Mr. Cho from the waiting room, not bothering to keep his voice down. 

“Well, it’s too late to sign up this year anyhow. The camp is really popular so after registration opens in January, all the spots are taken within one week,” said the barber, ignoring the agitated man. 

“Oh, so I can’t go," he paused, biting his lip. "Then how should I practice being on-stage, Mister?” 

“I’m sure you can get some experience elsewhere, Kyuhyun-ah. Maybe you should ask your choir director for a solo, hmm? Most professional singers start out as soloists in their church choirs, you know?” 

The boy’s eyes twinkled. 

“Really?” 

Mr. Kim chuckled, nodding. 

Kyuhyun fell silent, eyebrows furrowed, thinking hard as the patient barber combed and snipped away at his hair. Suddenly:

“Mister, when I grow up, if I don’t become a gamer, I’ll become a professional singer!” 

Mr. Cho huffed. 

“You mean, if you don’t become a lawyer, right Kyuhyun?” he called out to his son. 

The barber ignored the man, instead chuckling warm-heartedly at the ambitious boy. 

“That’s quite a hasty decision Kyuhyun-ah, what made you decide that all of a sudden?”

“Because even if I get nervous when I sing by myself, I like it a lot! I like it when people tell me my voice is nice. I just need more practice then I can become really good! Then I can be famous! Like Heejin-noona said!” 

A loud sound of disapproval came from the waiting area. 

“I'll bet your umma will be happy about that goal, hm?" The barber said, pretending like he heard nothing. "Well, practice hard Kyuhyunnie. Everyone has to work hard to achieve their dreams.” 

“I will!” 

“Okay! Now, I have to dry your- Oh! I’ve got an SMS, hold on a second,” he said, artificially surprised as he pulled out his phone and pressed a few buttons. He then continued on, “Sorry about that. Okay, time for the hairdryer.” 

The barber dried Kyuhyun’s hair, a sneaky smirk painted on his face. The moment he was done, he quickly brushed the hair off Kyuhyun’s neck, pulled off the gown and turned the barber chair around. Seconds later the lights went off. 

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~” came a chorus of Ryeowook’s chirpy voice and Mrs. Kim’s melodic voice. 

Mrs. Kim walked down the stairs, a small cupcake decorated with a lit “9” candle perched on top of an overly generous amount of frosting, ornamental music-themed figures and sprinkles held in her hands. Ryeowook bounded along behind her, singing in an increasingly loud voice, embellishing the lyrics with a Happy birthday to Kyu instead, his voice echoing off the walls. Mr. Kim joined in, making a small circle around the birthday boy. Mr. Cho huffed, standing up and stood at the back of the circle, behind everyone, only marginally participating in the festivities. 

“Make a wish Kyuhyun-ah,” said Mrs. Kim gently, holding up the cake. 

“But don’t tell anyone or you’ll be cursed!” Ryeowook squeaked excitedly as he shoved a birthday cap on Kyuhyun’s head, taking liberties to muss up the boy’s hair as best as he could. 

The pink-faced boy closed his eyes, thinking deeply, then took a deep breath and blew out the candle. 

“Appa, hurry up and turn on the lights!” piped up Ryeowook. “I have to show Kyuhyunnie how I decorated his cupcake and give him his gifts. Hurry!” He was nearly bouncing in place. 

Mr. Kim sighed and shook his head as he the lights, grumbling. 

“Look Kyuhyunnie, this is part two of your presents! I made a karaoke cupcake! It has a microphone on it and lots of colourful musical notes. I frosted it myself!” 

Mrs. Kim coughed. 

“Oh, and umma helped too,” Ryeowook finished off quickly, muttering. “Anyway, it tastes yummy inside.” 

“How do you know it tastes good if you haven’t eaten it, Ryeowook-ah?” Kyuhyun asked, amused. 

“Because cupcakes…” Ryeowook paused for dramatic effect, “…are my specialty! I’m like a profezinal desserter.” 

Mr. Kim snorted. 

“…Don’t you mean patissier or pastry chef, Ryeowook-ah?” 

“Oh, yeah, that too appa.” 

The man facepalmed. 

“The only reason he knows it tastes good is because we shared one early this morning when we baked them, so don’t be fooled by what my son says Kyuhyunnie. Anyway…” Mr. Kim walked over to the storage room, emerging shortly after with two packages, each garishly wrapped with colourful wrapping paper and bows. He passed one to Ryeowook and then gave the other to Kyuhyun.

“This is from my wife and I. We hope you like it.” 

“And this is from me, super gift-wrapper Kim Ryeowook! Because I wrapped them both myself.” The boy said as he pushed the other present onto Kyuhyun’s lap. 

Kyuhyun accepted the presents happily and put them aside. 

“What are you doing Kyuhyunnie? You were given presents. The law says that you have to open all presents within 10 seconds or your wish will not come true!” Ryeowook squeaked, horrified. 

“Ryeowook-ah, don’t make up rules just because you want to see Kyuhyunnie open his presents,” admonished Mrs. Kim. “He can open them whenever he wants.” 

“But umma-” 

“Is it okay?” Kyuhyun interjected. 

“Pardon Kyuhyunnie?” said the woman. 

“Is it okay if I open it?” 

Mrs. Kim laughed, patting him on the head gently. 

“Go ahead. They’re yours anyway.” 

Kyuhyun cautiously looked up at his father, who nodded, clearly unhappy. 

The boy tore at his presents in glee, as if he had been holding himself back. In the first package was a set of headphones. And in the second was a harmonica. 

“Ahem, since Kyuhyunnie doesn’t like pianos because he’s crazy, I, Kim Ryeowook, decided to get Kyuhyunnie a harmonica so Kyuhyunnie can practice his notes. This is the last part of my special birthday project.” Ryeowook stated, nodding proudly. 

“Also those headphones are noise-cancelling and high-definition and can also work with your mp3 player,” said Mrs. Kim, winking, “But of course it doesn’t compare to a harmonica,” she added as Ryeowook gave her a dirty look. 

Kyuhyun examined his two presents carefully then hugged them, a big goofy smile on his face.

“Thank you! These will help me a lot when I’m practicing!” 

Mr. Cho snorted derisively once more from the back of the group.

“Yeah, you better thank me and umma Kyuhyunnie," chirped Ryeowook. "Appa was going to buy you the Farming Frenzy game instead because appa is obsessed with farms.” 

“I am not,” the boy’s father replied sheepishly. 

“Yes you are appa. Even when we were in the shop you kept on showing umma the farming games in the kids’ toy section and asked us if we could buy them because they had lots of crops and upgrades. You shouldn’t lie, appa.” 

“Farm games aren’t just for children, Ryeowook-ah and to suggest such a thing is a blatant mock-” 

“Hush, both of you,” said Mrs. Kim, rolling her eyes. “Do you want to eat the cupcake here or take it home Kyuhyunnie?” 

“He’ll take it home,” Mr. Cho cut in. “We have a big birthday party planned for Kyuhyun tonight as well so I don’t want him to eat too much beforehand. Unfortunately we have to leave as soon as we can because our guests should be arriving shortly.” He looked at his watch then sent his son a significant look. 

As Mr. and Mrs. Kim began hurriedly packing up the cupcake for transportation, Ryeowook pulled Kyuhyun towards the waiting area and hugged him, the smile from his face gone. Mr. Cho watched the pair from afar with narrowed eyes. 

“Do you like the cupcake and presents Kyuhyunnie?” He asked quietly. 

The cheerful birthday boy nodded contentedly, tinkering with the harmonica here and there, the headphones already snugly resting around his neck.

“That’s good,” Ryeowook said forlornly. 

There was a pause then Ryeowook spoke again, still unhappy. 

“So…will your best friend Changmin-ah be at your big birthday party?” 

Kyuhyun, who was now in the midst of figuring out how to play the happy birthday song on his harmonica, nodded distractedly. 

“That’s….good. You get to spend time with your best friend at your birthday party. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” 

The increasing sadness in Ryeowook’s voice finally clued Kyuhyun into the boy’s state. 

“What’s wrong Ryeowookie?” 

Ryeowook shook his head, attempting to hold himself back, but then burst. 

“Changmin-ah is your best friend right?! Not me! I didn’t get invited to Kyuhyunnie’s birthday party! And Changmin-ah did. So then I’m only friends with Kyuhyunnie right? Not best friends? You lied! I’m not your favouritest best friend.” Ryeowook said breathlessly, looking down as he fussed with the hem of his shirt. 

Kyuhyun smiled affectionately at Ryeowook’s worry. 

“Dumb dumb-ah. Of course you’re my best friend. Appa said my party was only for my school friends so I couldn’t invite you. But I made sure to come here for my haircut right? Because I wanted to see Ryeowookie on my birthday!” 

The older boy’s smile widened, eyes crinkling, radiating happiness. 

“Really?” he said, relief evident in his voice.

Kyuhyun nodded, patting his best friend on the head. 

“Kyuhyun-ah, time to go!” called Mr. Cho, breaking up the conversation. “Quick! We have to go pick up the food and the cake before the party starts. Don’t worry about the cupcake – I have it!” 

The birthday boy gave Ryeowook a short hug. 

“Thank you for the harmonica, Ryeowookie. I like it a lot.” He ran off, thanking Mr. and Mrs. Kim for the headphones, pulling on his parka before leaving the building after his father. He padded out, holding on tightly to his new presents, treasuring them, the birthday hat on his head rocking back and forth rhythmically as he walked. Mr. Cho glanced at the items in his son’s arms, scowling. 

“You got a lot of music-related stuff this year didn’t you?” 

Kyuhyun nodded happily, bouncing along, oblivious to his father’s discontent. 

The man looked at his son for several long seconds. 

“Just don’t get too into this music thing, Kyuhyun-ah. Law is waiting for you.” he said, patting his son on the back as they crossed the parking lot.