13. For a word.  

    Jongin gazed at his reflection, the surface of the glass was splotched black in places. The black suit complemented his tanned skin and his dark raven hair, the white shirt underneath hugging his thoroughly fit body. He knew that they had to look good in front of the sponsors, but these were the finest suits you could buy within Busan. They were tailor made, flawless.    The mirror showed the boy that the world perceived, all they saw, somehow it didn't seem right. Inside, he was fireworks and rage, love and frustrations, ambition and fear. All they knew was brown hair, a handsome face, a sharped jawline and, if they were lucky enough, a smile.    He ran a finger over the frame, feeling its cool ridges and grooves, and the layer of dust that clung.    "You look hot," Xiumin complimented him, lying on Jongin's bed while watching the latter get ready for the party.    "Thanks, I guess?" He answered, running his fingertips through the bangs of his hair, so they would fall smoothly on his forehead. It's six-forty, he still had time left.    "We have to take a picture! Selfie Time!" The older male exclaimed, and jumped off the bed to open the drawer, taking out a camera.    The camera had a case made from black hammered metal, the lens jutted out on a highly polished brass looking cylinder, finished at the end with a rim of more black metal. Two dials and a button poke out from the top. The camera is the size of a credit card and almost as thin. When off, it looked like a simple silver rectangle of metal on one side and a screen on the other.   Xiumin walked up to him slowly and pulled Kai closer to him, wrapping his arms around him. The arms were soft, yet strong.    "Kai, you have to smile, otherwise it will turn out ugly." Immediately, Jongin tried to smile. Perhaps 'smile' wasn't the right word for it -- the top row of his teeth was showing, and there was a faint curve to the lips, but there was no crease below the eyes, no movement of the cheeks, it looked disingenuous, fake, but it was enough to satisfy his friend for the time being.    "At least you smiled. I'm not complaining about this one, although you could do much better," Xiumin said, stretching out his arm, aiming for the perfect angle to take the picture.    A single tap on the button, a clicking noise, mechanical whirring and the picture was taken. The picture was their final treasure. Xiumin turned the camera around to take a look at the screen on the other side of the lens.    "Look! It turned out really well. I'm going to upload that on my Instagram profile, Mr. Handsome," He pointed on the screen and Jongin examined the taken picture. They looked so different, as if they were representatives of various states. He wore a fancy suit while Xiumin wore ragged clothes, he has a compromising future and Xiumin doesn't.      "Do you really think I'm handsome, Xiumin?"     Before he was able to dodge or show any kind of reaction, not predicting such action, Xiumin had hit him softly against his upper arm. "What's getting in your head lately? You are becoming a softy. The Kim Jongin, the successful quarterback, wouldn't ask that question, because he is aware of the fact that he is handsome."    Is he really changing for the better, or lost in the thought of becoming responsible for his actions?      "Now, go to the party. Get laid tonight, kiss someone, just forgot everything. Show them what you have learnt from your previous dancing classes. Meanwhile, I'm going to upload the picture."    Jongin picked up the ointment and left.                                        *"*     Kai drew in a breath of the late-fall air, his lungs detecting the first chill of the season to come. A faint wind brushed against him, the sky was freckled with stars.    A swarm of cars were parked in front and beside the red-brick house. The music was as loud as thunder; it made the cutlery on the tabletops swing. The bass thumped in unison with his heartbeat as though they were one.    The party was located in a car dealer, because the main sponsor for the Eagles is the owner of numerous car dealers around South Korea. The front door was left ajar, casting a white beam into the night. Fixing his tie for the last time, Jongin entered the club.    Immediately, he felt dozens of eyes observing him closely. He scored against their aspiring team, of course they would have an agenda against him. But at this party, he was the coach for the junior team.      "Good evening, Jongin. I have heard a lot about you and it's a pleasure to have you as a coach for our junior team. You have a positive impact on them," A tall man said, making his way toward him. The owner and host