“Would you mind explaining why he’s circling me like a vulture, again?”

Taemin was standing in the middle of one of Jinki’s sitting rooms, while his uncle sat at the couch, sipping his tea next to Minho, who was snickering behind his hand. The man Taemin just met, Kim Jonghyun, was at a nearby chair, being uncomfortably silent.

“I told you,” Jinki said, setting his cup down on the glass table, “in order to be a prince, you have to at least look professional.”

“I get that, but why is your secretary the one judging my appearance?” Taemin asked, eyeing the man in question.

“I used to go to beauty school.” Kibum replied bluntly.

“Then why are you a secretary?”

“I got kicked out of beauty school.”

Taemin groaned as obnoxiously as possible, eliciting more giggles from Minho. Everyone in the room furrowed their eyebrows at him.

“I’m sorry,” Minho said between chuckles, “but you do realize how pointless this is, right? Have you seen him?” He gestured towards his best friend. “You couldn’t make that look professional in a million years.”

“Thanks, dude.” Taemin rolled his eyes. Before Minho could reply, a hand was tugging through Taemin’s hair.

“This is no good; your hair's been bleached so much it feels like hay.” Kibum said. Taemin yanked his head away from his hand, only for his chin to be caught in Kibum’s grip instead.

“You have awful complexion, have you ever washed your face?” Taemin tried pushing against Kibum’s chest, but his grip stayed firm. “At least you have plump lips; perfect for kissing.”

Taemin turned beet red and nearly punched Kibum in the chest, finally escaping from his grip. Kibum just smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Is this a joke to you?!” Taemin yelled.

“Chill out, I was just kidding.”

“It’s not funny!”

“Taemin-ah, please calm down.” Jinki had stood up and was standing next to Kibum, arm around his shoulders. “You must understand, Kibum is just…uh…”

“Awesome?” Kibum interrupted.

“Difficult.” Jinki finished and patted his shoulder. “But really, purple is not the nicest looking color…”

“So what? Are you gonna make me dye it?” Taemin scoffed.

“Great idea! We’ll do it right now, and give you a special shampoo. I’ll have someone drop face cream at your house in the meantime.”

“Wait, what?”

“Contact Mars,” Minho said in a weird alien voice, pretending his finger was an antennae behind Taemin’s head.

“ off!” Taemin yelled, pushing his best friend away, who was laughing obnoxiously.

“Not gonna lie, you do look like an alien.” Kibum said, observing Taemin’s aluminum covered head.

“This was your idea!” Taemin said. “I didn’t even want to get my hair dyed!”

“Whatever, “ Kibum replied flippantly. All five men were inside of the mansion’s salon, a narrow room with turquoise walls. When Taemin asked why the hell Jinki even has this room, Jinki said that a royal should always have a private boutique. Taemin thought a public salon would’ve done the trick just fine, which led to fight between him and Kibum, which subsequently led to Kibum nearly ripping Taemin’s hair out as he washed it. Now they were just lazing around waiting for the dye to settle. “What we have to do now is get you some clothes. Your converse are falling apart and look like someone shat on them.”

“But these are my favorite shoes! I wear them all the time!”

“I can tell.” Kibum said. Taemin scoffed.

“In any case, your highness,“ Kibum smiled sweetly towards Jinki, who peered up at him through his glasses, “would you mind accompanying me to the dressing room? I’d appreciate your opinion on my choices.” Taemin rolled his eyes at Kibum’s blatant double personality.

“Right. Taemin, please make yourself comfortable. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” Jinki patted his nephew’s shoulder, and followed Kibum out of the salon.

As they were heading out, Kibum suddenly turned to face Minho. “You wouldn’t mind coming with us, right? You know him best, so you’d know what he’d like better than we would.”

Minho’s eyes darted between Kibum and his friend. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Minho said, clearing his throat and briskly making his way out of the room.

Taemin stared at his own reflection, flaring his nostrils. As much as he hated to admit it, he did look pretty stupid. Just then, a flicker of movement made his eyes jump towards Jonghyun’s reflection. His future instructor had just pulled out a small notepad, and was writing something down. Taemin took this as an opportunity to study the man’s features in a way that wasn’t face-to-face and therefore, less awkward (for himself, at least).

Jonghyun had raven hair and bronze skin, full, almost pouty lips, protruding cheekbones, and a sharp jaw. His gaze traveling down, Taemin saw that his button-up shirt was just the slightest bit too small, so the fabric hugged the muscles on his chest and arms. He’s not bad looking, Taemin thought, I’d give him a 6 out of 10. Just then, as if Jonghyun could read his thoughts, he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Taemin let out a quiet gasp. Everyone knows that when a man rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, it makes him an automatic 10. Forearm muscles are one of the most powerful things in the world. Figuratively.

Hearing Taemin’s gasp, Jonghyun lifted his head and made eye contact with Taemin in the mirror. Oh , thought Taemin, oh oh oh oh . I’m too socially awkward for this. He turned his chair around to properly face Jonghyun, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“What are you writing?” Taemin said. Okay, not the best opener for a conversation, but I can live with that.

“Just some lyrics, your highness.” Jonghyun replied.

“You’re a lyricist?”

“I compose in my free time, sir.” Jonghyun replied with a soft smile, focusing on his notepad again. Feeling awkward in the silence, Taemin decided to ask something else.

“How old are you?” Taemin said.

“I’m 24, sir.”

“So you’re 6 years older than me? Feel free to talk to me comfortably, then.”

Jonghyun faced Taemin again, slightly surprised. “I can’t, sir. It would be unwise for the public to overhear a commoner speaking to a royal as if they are on the same level.”

“Well, then-”

Taemin was interrupted by Kibum grandly entering the room as if it were a runway instead of a beauty salon. Jinki and Minho followed behind, carrying a few clothes and boxes.

“I swear to god, I am a genius. Now, let’s see if your lovely locks are finished yet…”

Taemin pulled his hair to the front of his face, pouting at it as he and Minho made their way home.

“I hate black hair. It’s so boring.”

“Well, Kibum was right. You do look more professional now, and it’s not flying in every direction for once.”

“I don’t care.” Taemin complained. It was totally not fair that his uncle forced him to change his hair color, even if it made him look more mature. “Anyways, Jinki said that Jonghyun-hyung is going to drive us to and from school starting tomorrow in one of their limousines. So, after school, if you wouldn’t mind, you could ride with us back to my uncle's place for the beginning of my ‘royal lessons’.”

Minho furrowed his brows at Taemin. “Uh, Taemin-ah, you do realize I have soccer practice tomorrow, right? And the day after that, and the day after that…”

. Taemin hadn’t even thought about Minho’s practices. He was too caught up in, you know, suddenly finding out he had to run a country.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I forgot. I’ll just go by myself.”

Minho smiled and wrapped his arm around Taemin’s shoulders. “Thanks, dude. I’ll see you tomorrow, kay?”

“Kay.” Taemin waved, smile fading as Minho jogged down his street. He still wasn’t terribly confident going to Jinki’s house by himself, and the fact that he had “royalty lessons" starting tomorrow did nothing to help his nerves. He could barely even remember how to do long division, how was he supposed to learn everything about some stupid country? Groaning out loud, he sulked back home, ready to take out his frustrations on some random video game character.

“Bye, mom.” Taemin called as he walked through the front door. He stopped right in his tracks as he faced a long, black limousine parked in front of his house. Oh right, Taemin remembered after a moment, chauffeur.

Jonghyun emerged from the driver’s seat of the car and stood in front of the back door on the passengers side, opening it so Taemin could slip inside.

“You really don’t have to open the door for me…” Taemin said.

“Please step inside, your highness.” Jonghyun replied, gesturing towards the interior of the car.

Taemin sighed and slid onto the leather seats. There really wouldn’t be any reasoning with this guy, would there?

As Jonghyun drove down the street towards Minho’s house, Taemin took a moment to explore the interior of the limo. There was a sizable space between the back seats and the front seats, and inside that space was maroon counter and cup holders on the sides. Underneath the counter was an empty cupboard, and above Taemin’s head was a few small buttons. After fussing with them, he discovered that the first one rolled down the window, the second raised a black wall between the back and front seats, and the third made the ceiling light up in different colors.

“What is this, the cash cab?” Taemin wondered aloud. Jonghyun let out a small snort, but quickly regained his composure. Taemin found himself oddly happy he had made Jonghyun laugh. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation.

The limo halted to a stop and Minho burst inside before Jonghyun even had a chance to open the door for him.

“Wooaahh,” Minho mused, as he pushed the same buttons Taemin had been inspecting. “This is so cool! I told you being royal was gonna be awesome!”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to take royalty lessons today like I do.” Taemin mumbled.

“I’m really sorry I can’t make it to your uncle’s today, but I don’t want to miss any more practices with semi-finals coming up.” Minho patted Taemin’s knee as he moped.

“It’s fine, Minho.” he replied. “But that doesn’t make me any less nervous…”

“Sorry, man” Minho frowned sympathetically. As he turned his head, his gaze was suddenly focused on the windshield.

“What’s going on out there?” Minho wondered, as he looked out towards the school. It was surrounded by news vans, reporters, and students either talking to the newscasters or struggling to get inside the school. Without waiting for an answer from Taemin, he opened the door and briskly walked forwards to see what the commotion was about.

“Hyung, wait!” Taemin called after him, adding a quick, “thanks for the ride, Jonghyun-hyung,” before following after his friend.

They stood in front of the building in bewilderment. What could’ve possibly happened that made all these people show up at their school? It’s not like high schoolers had anything of importance to say. Something bad must’ve happened...

Just then, a younger student Minho recognized from his fan club pointed at the two of them. “That’s him!” she said. “That’s prince Taemin!”

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