Zico never had days off. If he did, he spent them working. Music had to be made. His mind had to be cleared of all the rhythms, harmonies, melodies that bounced around within the confines of his skull.

He had to prepare for Show Me The Money, for Block B’s activities in Japan, and, perhaps, if he had time, on his own solo. Maybe. 

That thought had been swirling around his consciousness for a while. It wasn’t that he didn’t plan on releasing a solo; he’d already done it. However, Tough Cookie hadn’t been exactly what—well, it had topped the charts, but it had left him dissatisfied. He knew he would be criticized (when wasn’t he?), but he had not expected such negativity. The death threats and demands for suicide had chilled him.

At the time, he’d wondered what had caused the backlash. It had taken him some time to realize what exactly it was that international fans were so upset about. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tied his stomach up in knots. Stole the joy from his success.

Now, with a single day off, Zico found himself listening to the sound of Leader HQ’s gate clicking shut behind him.

Leader HQ had become more than a mandatory part of the leaders’ weekly schedules. Somewhere along the way, HQ had become a place of solace, an area where the exhausted leaders managed a moment of respite.

They could forget themselves for a few hours at a time. On days when no mission or games were scheduled, they took it upon themselves to keep the atmosphere lively, and not just for the sake of broadcast. Follow the Leader had become their favorite excuse to play, talk, and learn.

Unfortunately, as one of the busiest leaders, Zico had missed out on much of the silly adventures and late night shenanigans. Tae Jun, the mastermind behind the best games, had often—yet privately—complained that he was never around to participate. Zico had wanted to, but he ended up either too tired or too busy.

The viewers complained about his lack of appearances. Some nasty comments, most stating that he fancied himself too famous to show his face or that he cared more about Show Me The Money, had been found on the program’s home page and his social media. They didn’t bother him, not really. In the end, however, he’d promised to stop by more often, if only to appease Heo PD.

Because of that promise, Zico now found himself standing in the living room of an empty house. He looked around, heaving a heavy sigh. The cameras zoomed in; he could hear their mechanical whir in the absolute silence. He walked towards the window-wall, squinting his eyes against the glare of the early morning sun on the pool’s surface.

He had half expected to see Eun Mi reading, her legs underwater, that wide-eyed, wondered expression on her face.

He stood there for a few moments, not really sure what it was that he had been expecting to find at HQ. Not really sure why he had been looking for Eun Mi to begin with.

Heo PD had also given him an earful about how his lack of interaction with his fellow maknae would do nothing more than fan the already dying rumors’ embers. Maybe he had been searching for a way to—to what?

The unanticipated blast of music accompanied by the heavy vibrations of a bass scared him half to death. HQ clearly had not been uninhabited. Following the muddled music, Zico descended to the basement.

The basement ran the entire length of the house, doubling as a practice room. All the equipment the idols required to practice could be found there. Instead of a ceiling-to-floor window like the one in the living room there was a mirror. To the right and left, adjacent to the mirror and on opposite extremes, were little cutout rooms for vocal practice.

The modifications had obviously been done with the idols in mind. Expensive modifications at that, much more expensive than what the network would be willing to spend on a flimsy program that focused on idols of all things.

Whispers that the CEO of a large conglomerate had arranged for the program to exist in order to satisfy his daughter had reached all of the leaders. It sounded outrageous, but the fact that all the producers shushed them when it was brought up made it all the more suspicious. If it were really true, that made the show nothing more than a stalker’s playground.

The thought chilled Zico’s bones. Where their lives, their careers, at the beck and call of this obsessed individual? How disgusting.

“Oh! It’s Zico!” VIXX’s N shouted over the pounding bass. He paused the music, grinning widely. “We weren’t expecting you. Do you have the day off?”

A sweat drenched Eun Mi joined them, blowing a strand of stray hair out of her face. She looked like she’d been through the ringer. Zico noticed N’s own drenched face and clothes.

“Yeah, seems like I do. What are you two doing?”

“N sunbae is helping me with my dance style.”

N smiled tenderly at her, placing a hand on her head. It seemed like everyone had a tender smile to spare wherever Eun Mi was concerned.

“You already know how to move your body. We just have to get rid of a few hijinks here and there. Like your extreme self-consciousness.”

Zico got the impression that she’d been trying to fix that for a long time. If she was so self-conscious, how did she manage to perform before thousands?

This gave Zico pause. He had never seen her onstage. He had only ever seen her backstage or at HQ. It made him wonder: What was CELESTIAL’s Eun Mi like as an idol? Was she just as infuriatingly good at everything? Maybe even closer to perfection?

“Would you like to join us?” N asked with a friendly smile.

“No,” Eun Mi said.

They both looked at her. N’s brow creased.

“Zico’s been working very hard lately. I’m sure today is his only free day. Did you come here to work? Why don’t you go on ahead and sleep for a few hours?” She smiled at N, placing her hand on his arm casually, familiarly, comfortably.

Eun Mi never touched Zico that way.

“Sunbae, let’s turn the music down. I think we got a little too excited, we might have disturbed the neighbors.”

“Ah, you’re right. The walls are kind of thin.” N patted Zico on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go sleep like Eun Mi suggested? We’ll call you down once we take a break for lunch, yeah?”

Zico didn’t want to go, but if he were being honest, he was dead on his feet. He nodded—at least he thought he did—and made his way to his room.

Maybe, when he woke up, Eun Mi would be singing.

N monitored Eun Mi closely. She didn’t miss a single step, didn’t lose count, didn’t get ahead or fall behind the beat. She did well. To an untrained eye, she performed perfectly.

But Cha Hakyeon wasn’t just anybody, nor were his eyes untrained. Eun Mi had asked him for help; she had said her dancing always seemed slightly off. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what made it so strange. N, on the other hand, could.

“Eun Mi-ah, you need to stop thinking so much,” he said. “You follow the choreography to such great precision, and that’s great! But you also need to enjoy it.”

“Yes, sunbae.”

He frowned. “Don’t you like to dance?”

Eun Mi collapsed. She wiped seat from her forehead, panting. Her legs felt like jelly and lead all at once. N settled down beside her.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t know how to dance.”

“You’re very coordinated though.”

“I would sure hope so! Master Park would really let me have it if I tripped over my own two feet!”

“Hmm. Maybe you should go clubbing!”

“Sunbae!”

N laughed. “Was that too much? Sorry!”

They laughed, staring at the ceiling as if it contained the secrets of the universe. N wondered what made Eun Mi, a girl so full of cheer and passion, so careful whenever she danced. It really made no sense to him. If she let herself go just a little while dancing, she would surely be outstanding; a triple threat.

“Eun Mi-ah, is there a song you really like? One that makes you want to dance whenever you hear it?”

Eun Mi thought for a moment. He witnessed the moment her eyes lit up. She sat upright, her hair flying.

“Mr. Chu!”

“Mr. Chu?” he blinked. “APink’s Mr. Chu?”

She nodded. “I love that song so much! I would love to learn the dance. Ah, but I should probably ask Chorong unnie to teach me.”

“Eey,” N laughed, “I’ve danced SNSD’s I’ve Got a Boy! Girl group dances are my forte!”

“Isn’t that stretching it a bit?” she giggled.

“Maybe just a little?” he laughed.

“Do you think I’ll look weird? I mean, I’ve never tried such a cute dance before.” Without warning, Eun Mi’s demeanor became gloomy, crestfallen.

“It’s all just practice,” N said, patting her shoulder. “We can learn the basics and when Chorong gets here, you can ask her to coach you through the cute points.”

Eun Mi nodded, her eyes never once meeting his. N struggled for something to say, a way to encourage her.

“Say, Eun Mi, you’ve never tried to get something out of a man before?”

“E-eh? What do you mean?”

Her brightly lit cheeks made N realize how his question might have come across. His own cheeks colored with heat.

“T-that’s not what I meant!” he laughed nervously, waving his hands frantically. “I just meant—well, girls use aegyo all the time to disarm guys. Um, how should I say it? You’ve never used it against your manager to get him to buy something for CELESTIAL?”

“N-no. Ienna and Chae are the ones that do that, especially Ienna.”

“You’ve never done aegyo once?”

The red on her cheeks deepened. She had, in fact, used aegyo once. Not too long ago, she’d attempted the Gwiyomi Player. She had been out of her mind. Entirely! Completely! She’d been possessed by an evil spirits! More than that, she’d been possessed by that fake confidence she’d been clinging to so desperately since—since forever, actually.

“I-I did it once.”

“See? I knew you would have at least tried it once! And, how did it go? Did that oppa do what you asked him too?”

She gave the tiniest of nods.

N laughed. “I knew it!” He pinched her cheek lightly. “Our Eun Mi is adorable.”

Eun Mi wasn’t too sure about that.

Suddenly, she felt very tired. She hadn’t been sleeping well for a few nights. The nightmares had crept up on her. She had been expecting them, but they always managed to frighten the soul out of her. She had an appointment with her psychologist tomorrow afternoon. Manager Jo had made the appointment. Aunt Minha had booked her airplane ticket.

Eun Mi felt awful. Her stomach churned. She had a million things to do. Dance and vocal lessons, recording sessions, practice, recordings, radio shows. She had several more Tae Kwon Do lessons to teach before attaining her second dan. Master Park had scheduled one for this evening and one for tomorrow evening as well. Amidst this all, her parents’ wedding anniversary was coming up, just two weeks before CELESTIAL’s comeback.

If she could keep herself together until then everything would be okay. Everything had to be okay.

She checked the time. If she excused herself now, she might manage to sleep for a few hours.

“Sunbae, I think I will—”

“Oh, Eun Mi-ah!”

Jonghoon’s cheerful greeting drew her back into reality. She looked over her shoulder, smiling her best idol smile, the kind that hid her tongue behind her teeth. Jonghoon gave her hair a soft ruffle, sitting beside her.

“What are you doing? Should we work on your guitar playing?”

Eun Mi glanced at N. He gave her an encouraging smile, raising to his feet, he excused himself. “You two go ahead. I think I’ll go order some food. I don’t feel like cooking.”

Jonghoon waved over his head then directed his excited grin at Eun Mi. “Shall we practice? We can look at that song you’ve been working on.”

“Y-yeah, let’s practice.”

Zico would never admit it, at least not aloud, that the sound of Eun Mi’s voice was a welcomed melody to wake up to. She sang softly, steadily, smoothly, every word a near whisper, a gentle note that slipped through the smallest cracks on the floor, the walls, to reach his ears. After listening to aggressive, more often than not pathetic, rap lyrics for the last month or so, Eun Mi’s voice soothed his earbuds.

Keeping his eyes closed, Zico released a deep sigh, ready to immerse himself in her song.

Bitter disappointment came when Eun Mi stopped singing after only a few bars. Moments later, she started up again, briefly, stopped, and started again. He realized that she was in the middle of a lesson. Zico wondered if Gyuri or Hyorin were guiding her, teaching her with a stern but gentle hand.

The constant interruptions diluted the sweetness of her song. Zico, now disinterested, dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He always felt murky and icky after long hours of sleep during the daytime; showers were a must.

Slinging a towel around his neck, he made his way down to the basement, catching a glimpse of a tall, lean figure disappearing into the dining room area. He figured it could have been N—or had Sunggyu returned? Tae Jun?

A frustrated, angry series of guitar strums made him hesitate at the bottom of the stairs. He blinked. It took his still sluggish mind to process the image before him.

Eun Mi, sprawled on the practice room floor, a guitar abandoned by her side. A water bottle rolled towards him slowly, the liquid sloshing dramatically against the inside. Jonghoon sat a few feet away from her, his guitar on his lap, a hand raking his hair continuously. There was a pinch to his eyes that Zico had not seen before; then again, he had not been around Jonghoon long enough to know if that was uncommon or not.

“What’s going on?”

Eun Mi’s head lolled in his direction, eyes distant. The exhaustion in them made a shiver run down his spine. He’d known Eun Mi to tire, the knowledge unsettled him.

With a blink, the exhaustion disappeared, replaced by the lively shimmer he’d grown used to seeing. It left him wondering if there had been any deadness in them to begin with. “Oh, it’s Zico again, genius songwriter.”

Shaking his head, Zico entered the room. The floorboards felt cool under his feet, the black fabric of his sweats swaying around his ankles, a little too short for his long body. Eun Mi returned her attention to the ceiling.

“Genius songwriters expand to more than one genre of music,” Jonghoon said. He ruffled his hair, strummed his guitar, gave up, and dropped to lay beside Eun Mi.

“The secrets of the universe are on that ceiling,” she said.

“You’re talking like a dejected trainee,” Zico replied.

“No, they’re really up there,” Jonghoon countered.

“Just how long have you two been down here?”

“An eternity,” he said.

“More like two? Maybe three,” she finished.

“Stop exaggerating,” N said from behind Zico. He turned and found him standing with a small plate topped with tiny, yummy looking sandwiches. He didn’t wait for them to stand, instead, he knelt by them, stuffing their open mouths with the tiny, soft squares.

“Do you still see the universe in the ceiling?”

“No. Now a thousand stars are exploding in my mouth,” Jonghoon said, speaking around his food.

“Mhm!” Eun Mi agreed.

N handed a sandwich to Zico. “These two get cranky when they’re hungry. Especially, Eun Mi.”

He munched on it while watching her. She chewed quickly, stretching out her hand for another. N obliged. She didn’t sit up, didn’t say anything. She simply ate it.

“By the way, Eun Mi-ah, aren’t you going to be late?”

It was as if she’d been shocked. Eun Mi bolted upright, took her guitar in one hand, a sandwich in the other, and ran out of the room, stomping up the stairs in a hurry.

“Thank you for the lesson sunbae!”

“Which one of us did she mean?”

“I don’t know.” Jonghoon sat up. “I just wish she’d call us oppa instead.”

It made Zico wonder about her age. He hadn’t really given it much thought before. He knew she was his junior in the industry. Was she also younger than him?

“How old is Eun Mi?”

Jonghoon took the tray from N, placing it on his crossed legs. “She was born in ’92.”

Zico realized that he already knew that. The information had been filed away somewhere in the most cluttered parts of his brain. He also had the vague impression that once upon a time, during an interview, he’d displayed this knowledge. Or, wait, had it been while filming for this program?

He could not be sure.

“I know that,” he said, covering his bases just in case. “What I meant was, has she had her birthday yet?”

Jonghoon paused, looking at N for help.

“Zico, isn’t your birthday in September?”

“Yes, it is.”

“So is Tae Jun and Eun Mi’s.”

“I knew Tae Jun hyung’s birthday was in September. I didn’t know about Eun Mi’s.”

N grinned, stealing the last sandwich from Jonghoon. Jonghoon gave him a deadly glare before shoving the tray back into N’s hands.

“When’s Tae Jun’s birthday?”

“September twelfth.”

“So is Eun Mi’s.”

Jonghoon barked a laugh. “She’s older than you by two days. What rotten luck, you’re the one true maknae of HQ!”

“Don’t be too mean to him.”

“Zico! Your phone is ringing!” Eun Mi’s voice boomed down to reach them.

“Why does she talk so formally to you?” Jonghoon wondered. “Shouldn’t she relax around a same age friend?”

Uncomfortable, and glad to have an excuse to leave, Zico excused himself from Jonghoon’s heavy, penetrating eyes.

He found Eun Mi by the front door, sporting yet another fashionable workout outfit. She hopped about, sliding a pair of socks on, her hair secure into that high ponytail that made his insides burn.

“Where are—?”

“Out. Personal schedules. I’ll be back later.” She tore the door open. Zico got the impression that she cursed under her breath. “N sunbaenim! I’m leaving!”

“Be careful!”

And she was gone. Just like that.

How long had it been since he’d talked to her? Had he ever spoken to her properly? Their midnight race in the rain now seemed so distant. He wondered if it had actually happened, wondered if there was any way for it to happen again.

Zico wanted it to happen again.

His phone continued to blast in angry desperation inside his room. It annoyed him enough to pull him away from the front door, although the image of Eun Mi’s flying ponytail still burned in his memory.

The restaurant wasn’t empty, it wasn’t full, either. Zico ducked under the low doorway, greeting the employees. Smooth, jazzy tunes flitted through the air, swirling around ever so casually, owning the place.

Underneath the cash register an autographed picture of AOMG’s Jay Park hung. He wore a smug expression, his wild, lion tattooed hand held up in a cocky ‘V’. It would seem that he frequented the place often enough from the looks of it.

Zico scanned the area. He had not been expecting a call from Jay so close to the producers’ performances in SMTM. He had also not been expecting for him to be on time, but he spotted him sitting in a very visible spot, his head bowed; his focus entirely on his phone.

Jay did not look up when Zico approached him, nor did he react when he took a seat before him. Jay didn’t look up when he called out his name. Zico had to knock on his side of the table before he even noticed him.

“Oh, you’re here.”

“Hyung.”

“Don’t frown like that. It makes your face look weirder and uglier.”

“Hyung.”

Jay grinned, a wild grin that never failed to come across as a dare. Zico envied Jay’s charismatic looks, envied the smile that so easily turned his features soft and gentle. Jay didn’t have to try to look kind or friendly or approachable. Zico did. Zico had to try his hardest to reassure those around him (mainly newer fans of Block B) that he was not mean or scary.

Had Eun Mi found him scary?

What a stupid thing to wonder about. Of course she had. He’d made sure of it.

“What’s got you looking so scary tonight?” Jay asked, waving a server over. “Did you get dumped?”

“No.”

“Then relax. You’ll scare off the girls with that fierce scowl. How do you even do it?”

He shrugged. “I was born with this face. What did you want to talk about?”

Jay ordered a couple of beers. When Zico didn’t make an effort to contradict him, he ordered a couple of house burgers as well.

“Your brother.”

“What about him?”

Jay made to answer, but his attention was caught by something behind Zico. He cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, “Eey, Latina!”

Zico looked over. He found a very startled Eun Mi at the entrance of the restaurant. Her hair hug loose, her face looked a little different, she still carried that heavy sports’ bag, but she most definitely was not in the clothes he had seen her in last; the sneakers remained the same, but the sportswear had been traded for a simple dress.

He couldn’t decide if its skirt covered too little or too much.

Jay waved her over. “C’mon over Ma Ri!”

“Ma Ri?”

“Her legal Korean name. Don’t you know anything about her? Aren’t you guys living together or something like that?”

Eun Mi kept her bag on her shoulder as she walked over to their table. Her expression reflected a deep, conflicting surprise. “Jay, what are you doing here?”

He patted the empty seat beside him. “Did you just finish with Tae Kwon Do? Are you meeting some friends later? Is it Amber?”

Without hesitating, with great familiarity, Eun Mi sat beside Jay. Zico caught a whiff of fresh shampoo. He realized that the reason she looked so different was because she’d taken a shower before coming. Her hair still seemed damp.

“Yeah, I just came from class. Amber isn’t coming, she had a schedule. Is this the place you’re always going on about?”

“Same one. Do you want a beer?” Jay called their server over before she answered.

The smile on her face made Zico’s stomach burn. He had never seen her act so casually before. He’d had no idea that she even knew Jay Park, for that matter. Although, it should have been obvious since they were both American.

“No, I’m okay. It’d be rude to start without my friends. I should go grab us a table. You two go ahead.”

“Aw, c’mon, I haven’t seen you in a long time. Besides, you still owe me that meal, remember?”

She frowned, dropping her heavy bag on the floor, crossing her arms and leg. It took an immeasurable amount of will from Zico not to look at her legs.

“I remember. But you always want expensive food! CELESTIAL still doesn’t make enough money to feed your expensive taste buds.”

Jay laughed. He threw an arm around her shoulders. It seemed to Zico that people threw their arms around Eun Mi’s shoulders much too easily, too comfortably.

“Alright, alright, then just pay for my beer and I’ll consider the debt paid.”

“Why should I pay for your beer when you were the one that asked me to come over here?”

Jay pulled her closer, embracing her tighter. Zico drank his beer. The server placed a glass before Eun Mi.

“What were you guys talking about?” She sniffed her drink before taking a careful sip, judging the taste.

“Zico’s brother.”

“Woo Taewoon.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jay treated it as such. “Yeah, Woo Taewoon. Do you know him?”

Zico watched Eun Mi watch him. Her eyes were steady. His were expectant. “Yes, I know him. Quite well, actually.”

“Secret love affair?”

“It wouldn’t be secret if I told you, now would it?”

Zico cleared his throat, drank more beer, and wished Jay wouldn’t hold Eun Mi so close. “What is it that you wanted to say about my brother?”

“Right, well, after last week’s round, it’s obvious that he has talent. Snoop Dogg thought highly of his performance.”

“It was his best performance as of yet.”

Jay saw the question written in Eun Mi’s raised eyebrows. “Yes, Ma Ri-ah, we are talking about that Snoop Dogg.”

“Must’ve cost a fortune,” she said over her glass.

It had, in fact, cost a fortune.

“Anyway, he’s been improving with every round.”

“But?”

“Do you think it’s enough? He’s your brother, is there more to him that we don’t know about? He’s quite a character and you both are alike. But…”

“But he’s always just 2% lacking,” Zico finished. “My brother has talent, there’s no doubt about that. His problem is that he thinks too much. That affects his performance. He also lacks confidence. If he continues to be as confident as he was before Snoop Dogg then he’ll definitely make it.”

“Snoop Dogg,” Eun Mi said under her breath, a smile creeping at the corners of her lips. “Snoop Dogg.”

“Do you think he’ll choose your team? If—?”

“He won’t,” Eun Mi said suddenly. They both looked at her.

“How—?”

“If I were in Mr. Woo Taewoon’s shoes, I would most definitely stay away from my dongsaeng’s team.”

The way she said dongsaeng made Zico’s blood prickle. His palms became clammy. He wiped them on his jeans.

“Mr. Woo Taewoon left SPEED to make a name for himself as a rapper and producer, didn’t he? At least, that’s what Taeha told me. If that’s the case, he’s trying to prove he’s not just some nameless contestant. If he stands beside Zico, wouldn’t the public just continue to address him as ‘Zico’s hyung’? That’s quite distasteful and rude. One of you should tell the editors of the show not to refer to him as such in the captions. It’s awful.”

“Wow,” Jay whistled. He held his beer halfway to his lips. “Have you been watching the show?”

“I watched one episode. That was enough for me to know that there’s some truly evil editing involved.”

Zico wanted to stop talking about Taewoon. The sound of his name on Eun Mi’s lips made him irate. It sounded too casual, too familiar. She never said his name like that.

Eun Mi sat up straighter. She raised a hand over her head then grabbed her bag from the floor, swinging it onto her shoulder as she stood.

“My friends are here now. Gentlemen, it was a pleasure.”

She turned her eyes to Zico. He felt as if it were the first time in the evening that she was truly looking at him. Seeing him.

“I’ll see you at home,” she said.

“About that beer—” Jay started.

“It’s on you tonight.” She winked, taking the glass with her.

This time, Zico didn’t watch her leave. Something dark and unpleasant stirred inside of him. It scared him too much to be analyzed. Still, no matter how much he tried to push it back, to dissipate it, to control it, it continued to rampage.

“…anyway, the point is that they’re finally dating.”

Zico’s head snapped up. “My brother and Eun Mi?”

Jay’s brow furrowed. He waited until the server left before answering. “No, you idiot. Weren’t you listening to what I was just saying? Why would I be talking about Taewoon and Eun Mi?”

“Sorry, hyung, I guess the beer must be getting to me.”

Jay set the fry he was about to eat down. He pushed the plate way, placing his arms on the table, leaning towards Zico.

“Are you feeling alright? You’re not getting sick, are you?”

He wasn’t sick, but he sure continued to feel unpleasant. “No. I’m not sick.”

Jay studied him for a few silent moments. Zico feared he would be able to spot the heavy miasma that clouded his insides if he continued to stare so hard.

“Promise me something, Zico.”

“What is it, hyung?”

“Don’t give Taewoon any handicaps. If he chooses your team, don’t take him and if he chooses another team, don’t influence their decision. Let him do this on his own. Tablo hyung sees his potential as well. You’ve seen how critical he’s been of his performances. He cares. So, don’t devalue Taewoon’s efforts.”

Touched by Jay’s concern for his brother, Zico managed to relax. He smiled a tiny smile.

“I would never do that to him. He would never forgive me for it.”

Taewoon would sooner forgive him for stealing his chicken than for rendering his sacrifices worthless. Taewoon had given up so much of himself for this opportunity. Zico would not spoil it for him. Their blood ties wouldn’t let him.

He waited for her on the ground floor, leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. He would occasionally raise his eyes, scanning the area for suspicious looking individuals. It wasn’t long before she emerged surrounded by a group of giggling friends. Zico had the overwhelming feeling that this is what it must have been waiting for a girl after class in high school.

The girls gave him a once over before looking at Eun Mi—except that, in that moment, she wasn’t Eun Mi, she was Ma Ri. She carried herself with more confidence, less tension. Her lively eyes contained the stars—no, they reflected the birth and death of constellations. Zico knew how to handle Eun Mi, but he had no idea who this new person was.

“Ma Ri-ah,” one of the women linked her arm through hers, pointing at Zico with her chin. “Isn’t that Zico?”

Eun Mi had not seen him, but the moment that her eyes met his, a heavy curtain drew over her eyes. No longer could he witness the creation and destruction of the universe in them. Instead, all he saw was a distant friendliness. Not even that, it was a distant cordiality.

The rest giggled, not minding his presence in the least, not even a little impressed. They waved goodbye to Eun Mi, promising to text her if they found out anything new, to keep her updated with future events.

“Will you be alright?” the woman asked her. Eun Mi gave her a smile, patting her hand affectionately. The woman leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the cheek (which Eun Mi returned at the same time), sent Zico a glare, and left.

Fazed by the bold display of affection, Zico was left standing before Eun Mi awkwardly. She readjusted the strap of her bag, blinking up at him, expectant.

“Um.” He cleared his throat. “I figured you could use a ride back to HQ.”

“That’s really nice of you, but I’ll be going to my dorm tonight.”

“Oh.”

He felt his cheeks slowly burn. She gave her shoulder another rough shake. Zico reached for her bag, swinging it on. He’d been expecting it this time, the weight of the bag, but his eyes still nearly bugged out of their sockets.

“Just what do you have in this thing?”

Eun Mi blushed in turn. “Sparring gear, my uniform, um…and maybe some spare clothes and shoes?”

“Sparring gear?”

“Well, I can’t exactly just leave it at the dojo.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, sparring gear.”

She caught his intonation then, smiling a guarded smile. “Yes, sparring gear. You have to do a lot of sparring if you want to move up in ranks. I didn’t get a black belt just by singing my way through, you know.”

“How can someone as tiny as you carry so much weight? You’ve never pulled your shoulder out of its socket?”

“Once when I was ten. One of the kids I was up against got carried away during a competition. Daddy was really mad. It was kind of scary.”

“Your dad took you to competitions?”

They had exited the building, Zico leading them to the underground parking lot a few businesses over. Eun Mi followed him without protesting. She had not exactly accepted his offer, neither had she rejected it.

“Mhmm. I feel like I’ve been telling this story a lot lately. I should just upload a picture of him onto Instagram telling the story all over again.”

“You have an Instagram?”

“Yes, same as you.”

“How did—?”

“Kyung told me.”

“You’re friends with Kyung? Park Kyung?”

She nodded, watching him throw her bag into the trunk. She didn’t wait for him to open her door, so he didn’t offer. She punched in CELESTIAL’s dorm address into the GPS, securing the belt around her.

“Aren’t you worried that we’re being followed?” Zico looked around them.

“I would be worried if I had something to hide.”

“People would get the wrong impression if a photograph of us were to be released.”

“Heaven forbid!” Eun Mi placed her hand to her heart, blinking rapidly.

Zico stared at her for a good minute before asking, “Are you being sarcastic?”

She laughed, winking good-naturedly. “You need to learn not to take yourself so seriously. One photograph of us together wouldn’t do any harm.”

“How can you be so sure? One photograph of us after everything that’s been going on will definitely affect us. Can you imagine the headline? Block B’s Zico and CELESTIAL’s Song Eun Mi, Hiding a Secret Love behind a Farce! The media would have a field day!”

“Earth to Zico! You aren’t as great as you think you are. The tabloids wouldn’t focus on us that much. Those rumors died ages ago, thank goodness. Although, it wouldn’t be fair to say they were rumors, now would it?”

He merged into traffic, tapping the steering wheel as he gnawed on his lip. What could he possibly say to that? From the corner of his eye, he saw Eun Mi send a quick text message. She muted her phone, placing it face down on her lap.

“Boyfriend?” Zico teased.

“Manager,” she deadpanned.

Silence.

“Uh, Eun Mi?”

“Hm?”

But Zico didn’t say anything. What could he say? Why was he even driving her to her dorm? Why had he waited for her for an hour after Jay left? Why was he so uncomfortable in his own skin when she was around?

He had been chasing her around all day, like a mongrel after a piece of bread. Avoiding her proved to be impossible. Approaching her felt almost…deadly.

“You can let me down here,” she said.

Zico stopped by a tiny park. He popped the trunk open. Eun Mi didn’t wait for him to get her bag for him, so he didn’t. He rolled the window down, leaning out to see her as she stopped to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the lift. Be careful going back to HQ.”

“Eun Mi!”

She stopped, walked the few steps back to his car. She lowered her head, peeking inside. Her eyes watched him carefully. It was in that gaze, so casual, so distant, so detached, that Zico realized that no matter what he said, Eun Mi would never allow him to get too close.

The apology died on his lips. He looked away, sitting upright. “Never mind.”

Eun Mi jumped back, shocked that he would so viciously pull away while she stood so close. She watched him go, startled and more than a little scared.

“What a jerk.”

She raised her hand, thinking to flip him off, but thought better of it when it started feeling heavy and dirty. She resented her mother for drilling into her the strong distaste for such cheap, crude gestures.

She’d often said, “If you’re going to offend someone, do it with your intellect. Make them feel like insects using only words. Be cunning, sly. Be smarter and better than them.”

Of course, she only ever did say that to Eun Mi when she’d had one beer too many. Still, Eun Mi remembered those words. She wondered if that would work against Zico the next time he acted like such a jerk.

DAEE had not been expecting to see Eun Mi tonight. In fact, she had not been expecting for their leader to return to their dorm for the next few nights. So, when she opened the front door and found Eun Mi standing just outside, her soul nearly jumped out of her body.

“U-unnie!”

“DAEE,” she said with a soft smile. DAEE didn’t like that smile; it was the smile that said she knew everything and if she didn’t know it, she would soon find out. “Are you going out?”

“Y-yeah, I was on my way to the company. I-I was going to practice some more.”

Eun Mi allowed herself into their home, removing her shoes as she frowned at the mess before the door. “Haven’t you guys been putting your shoes away while I’m gone? You know how it damages them. Not to mention it stinks.”

“N-no one has stinky feet, unnie.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s a smell to a pile of shoes whether the wearer has stinky feet or not. Will you be out long? I have something I want to discuss with you girls.”

DAEE followed her into the living area, nervous and jittery. “I can stay. It’s late anyway.”

She did not like the way Eun Mi glanced at her. She knew. DAEE was sure that she knew. It made her palms clammy.

“Girls!” Eun Mi called out. “Ladies!”

“Unnie!” Ienna burst from her room, throwing her arms excitedly around Eun Mi. “You’re home! I’ve missed you so much! Are you staying? Will you make us dinner?”

“We’ve been starving every night because ReNA won’t let us eat anything good,” Chae complained. “She says we have to watch our weight for the comeback.”

“That’s what the director said! You know how much of a jerk he is when we get around to weighing ourselves at the company.”

Eun Mi raised an eyebrow. ReNA fell silent, scolded by their leader’s powerful gaze.

“Ienna, honey, go ahead and order a pizza. I bet you had nothing but steamed vegetables for dinner.”

DAEE and Ienna whooped, rushing to place an order. Chae fell to her knees, hugging Eun Mi’s legs, fake crying her gratitude.

“ReNA, has the director been after you again? Did he call you fat? Is he harassing you?”

ReNA bit her lip. She was by far the thinnest member of CELESTIAL. As such, the director had a knack for noticing whatever few pounds she put on. During their trainee years, ReNA had been borderline anorexic. Eun Mi had witnessed one of the times the director had harassed her about her weight. She’d forgotten anything and everything about age hierarchies and let him have a piece of her mind.

No one stopped her when she slipped from Korean to English to Spanish. Somehow, everything she said sounded so much more terrifying in Spanish. She’d gotten in trouble, of course, but she’d also managed to get ReNA out of that dangerous situation.

“You’re already too thin. In America, you’d be considered dangerously underweight. Have you been to the doctor lately?”

They both knew she meant her therapist. Eun Mi was a huge advocate of psychological help. She didn’t know where she would be without it. Probably with her parents if not in some mental institution.

ReNA sat on the sofa, drawing her legs underneath her. “I told Manager Jo I didn’t feel too good lately. He made an appointment for me.”

“Good. Chae, get off me and go pick up your shoes.”

“They’re ReNA’s.”

“Bull. I know they’re yours.”

Chae, sulking, went to tidy up the mess she’d made while their leader was away. Eun Mi tossed her bag into her room, giving it a once over, before joining ReNA. Lanky ReNA stretched herself over the sofa, resting her head on Eun Mi’s lap. Eun Mi absentmidely began to braid her hair.

“Have you guys decided what hairstyles you want to have this time around?”

“I’m keeping my blonde hair!” Ienna cried from the kitchen.

“I think I’m going with a fiery red. The brightest of reds that there can be,” Chae shouted from the front door.

“I’m thinking about extensions,” said ReNA.

“And you DAEE?”

“I think I’ll do extensions too, but not too long. Long enough to give them some waves, maybe.”

“You’re not going to do anything to your hair, unnie?” Ienna sat by her, her arm pressed against her leg.

“Not just yet. I have a few more inches to grow before I can donate it.”

“That’s so admirable,” Ienna said. “Do you know where you’ll donate it to once you do cut it?”

Eun Mi thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. I just know I want a child to receive it.”

“If you auction it off, I’m sure some crazy fan would buy it. You could donate the money to a charity then,” ReNA said.

The girls were silent for a moment.

“That is absolutely creepy.” Ienna shivered. “They could do some witchcraft with it! What’s that thing that you told us about, unnie? The magic that’s common in the States? VIXX sunbaenim had a concept about it a few years ago.”

“Voodoo. You should be careful if you’re going to talk about that, Ienna. It’s part of a culture in some parts of the United States. International fans could take offense if you talk about it lightly.”

Ienna covered with both hands. “Unnie, do you know how lucky we are to have you? You know so much!”

ReNA rolled her eyes. Eun Mi shook her head. DAEE sighed. Chae gagged as she reentered the room.

“Just ask her out, already,” Chae shoved her shoulder. “We won’t tell.”

She cast a glance at ReNA then at Eun Mi. Eun Mi kept her eyes on ReNA’s hair, braiding it into complex knots that would have looked beautiful if she weren’t laying down.

Ienna hugged her leg. “Unnie! Would you marry me?”

“That escalated quickly!” DAEE slid into a sitting position. They were now all gathered around their leader, happy and excited. It had been a while since Eun Mi had spent so much time with them. Her schedule was always the most demanding, the one most tightly packed.

“I’m sorry, Ienna, I can’t marry you.”

“Is it because you’re Catholic?” Ienna asked dramatically, widening her eyes. “We can run away and get married somewhere else!”

ReNA and Chae laughed, shaking their heads in disbelief.

“Ienna, stop joking like that. Pretending to be something you’re not is not funny,” Eun Mi chastised. “And, I can’t date you because that would be two-timing.”

She said it so casually, as if were already a known fact and not a sudden nuclear bomb that she were dropping on them. This time, the silence was caused from the great shock she’d given them.  

ReNA sat up, her hair a comical mess of sideways braids. “T-two-timing?”

“Unnie, y-you’re dating someone?” DAEE stuttered.

Eun Mi looked at them each in turn. “Yes.”

Ienna jumped to her feet, her hands fisted at her sides. “Who is he? Is he an idol? Do we know him? Unnie, how long have you been with him? Does he treat you right? Wait, are you guys ually active? Did you ask Mr. Choi for birth control? Unnie, are you being safe?”

“Whoa!” Eun Mi coaxed Ienna into sitting down, taking her hand. “You should not be yelling all of that. Walls have ears.”

“They’re soundproof,” four voices chimed.

Sighing, Eun Mi allowed Ienna to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around her slender waist. She felt lighter than before. Eun Mi was glad she’d told them to order that pizza.

“Okay, well, first things first. One, I am not ually active. Are any of you? Do you need birth control?”

“I’m a small child,” Ienna said.

“You’re a ert, that’s what you are.” Chae gave her hair a tug. Ienna waved her away with a childish pout. She didn’t deny her claims, though.

DAEE, desperately, redirected the attention to other matters. “Unnie, who is he?”

“You guys know SPEED, right?”

“YUHWAN OPPA?!”

Eun Mi jumped so hard Ienna flew out of her lap. “W-what?”

“I knew it!”

“He was always chasing after you!”

“When did you two get together?”

“Unnie, he’s gorgeous!”

She opened and closed several times. Finally, she managed to shake her head, hair flying. “Are you guys insane? When ever did he chase after me? That’s insane! Do you guys even hear yourselves? The ridiculousness!”

“Abort mission! Abort mission!”

“Warning! Warning! Song Ma Ri is showing her face!”

The doorbell rang. Four girls rose as one, running from the wrath of their leader. Crying “Pizza! Pizza!” without looking back.

Fuming, Eun Mi stomped to her room, her tiny feet shaking up the entire place. She slammed her door, slipped out of her dress and into her most comfortable pajamas, before she called Taewoon.

“Taewoon-ah!” she shouted as soon as he answered. He flinched, holding the phone away from his ear. He looked at the screen, double-checking that it was Eun Mi and not someone else. He’d never heard her voice in such a shrill, indignant high pitch before.

“Eun Mi?”

“Listen to this!” She went on a tirade, pacing her room angrily as she told him just how ridiculous her members were being.

“Wait, you’re telling me Yuhwan was interested in you? Kim Yuhwan?”

“That’s absolute nonsense!”

Taewoon pondered the idea for a moment. It could very well be true, but he wasn’t about to go ask Yuhwan if he had the hots for his girlfriend. He’d beat him to a pulp before he had the chance to answer. Maybe.

“I would have understood if they said Taeha, but Yuhwan?”

The way she spat out his name, as if it grossed her out just to even think it, made him smile. “I would have liked for them to think it was Taeha instead of Yuhwan, too.”

“Right?!”

He laughed, pausing only when he heard Zico’s door slam. “It looks like Jiho just got home.”

“Jiho-ah?” Eun Mi sat on the edge of her bed, looking at her reflection in the mirror before her. They had long ago established this unspoken rule to never speak of Zico, but Woo Jiho was a different matter.

Eun Mi could listen to Taewoon gush about Jiho for hours, always proving just how doting, loving, and proud he was of his kid brother. She got to meet Jiho through his stories. They both felt a little rueful that she wouldn’t quite get to meet him in reality.

“Mm. It sounds like he’s upset. He slammed his door pretty hard.”

Eun Mi gnawed on her lip. “Taewoon-ah, I bumped into Zico today.”

“At HQ?”

“No. You remember how I told you I would see my high school friends today? Jay Park and Zico were at the restaurant we planned to meet.”

“Was he mean to you?”

She shook her head. Taewoon heard her do it. “No. On the contrary, he….Well, he waited for me and offered me a ride back to HQ.”

“Didn’t you say you were at the dorm?”

“I am. He drove me here.”

Taewoon paused. “Zico did?”

“Mm.”

Silence. That’s all that could exist in such situation. Taewoon saw enough of his brother while filming SMTM. In fact, it was the most he’d seen of Zico at any point in time since they had both debuted. Unless they both made some time in their schedules, they just hadn’t managed to meet with one another aside from the brief times they were both home.

“Was he mean?”

“No. But I could kinda tell he didn’t want to be nice, either. I don’t know. It was weird.”

“I would imagine so. Are you alright? Did he say or do anything to upset you?”

Eun Mi considered telling him how he had nearly decapitated her when he’d driven away, but she thought better of it. It wouldn’t do any of them any good to mention it. “I’m okay. Just a little weirded out.”

“Promise to tell me if he says or does anything stupid, okay?”

“I promise. But, Taewoon-ah, he doesn’t know yet, does he?”

“No.”

They paused. Eun Mi eventually asked, “Are we going to tell him?”

“Should we tell him?”

Neither of them knew the answer to that. Taewoon felt the need to share her existence with Jiho, but he knew that Zico had an inherent dislike of her. He didn’t know why and he had not exactly had the opportunity to ask him.

If it had been anyone else, Eun Mi would not have stressed about the matter so much. But Zico was Taewoon’s brother. She planned to stay with Taewoon for a long, long time. Somehow, she and Zico would have to learn to get along. She would also have to learn to surpass the anxiety that came with being around him, at least well enough that her stomach stopped hurting.

“Let’s tell him after Show Me The Money.”

Taewoon understood, in her subtle ways, she was telling him that she agreed to tell Zico of their relationship. She was also telling him to prolong the moment, to make it all the way to the end.

“Alright.” She could hear his silly, crooked smile.

“Jay said Snoop Dogg complimented you.”

“Did he?!”

“Yeah. I guess you didn’t know. It must’ve been only between the judges. Did you beg for a picture together? I’m sure you couldn’t believe he was there.”

“You know that feeling you get when you see SHINee?”

“Oh man, you got it bad!”

They laughed. She called him a fanboy and he did not deny it. Taewoon loved talking to Eun Mi, it always made him smile to the point that his cheeks hurt.

“I should go. I don’t hear the girls talking anymore.”

“They must be up to no good. I hated it when the guys just stopped talking. It always made me nervous.”

“Ugh, yes. I’m so glad someone understands!” she giggled. “Oh, Taewoon-ah?”

“Mm?”

“I’m going to the States in a few days. I’m going to visit my parents.”

Another unspoken rule: Eun Mi talked about her parents as if they were alive and Taewoon never said anything about it. He’d found out a while back from Master Park that they’d passed away. They both pretended they hadn’t.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Just for a few days. I’ll send you a message when I land, k?”

“Alright.”

“Oh, and Taewoon?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll message me afterwards, right?” She meant after SMTM’s upcoming recording.

“You know I will.”

She sighed in relief.

“Now go check on those crazy girls. I’m sure they turned half of Seoul upside down by now.”

“Ah! Don’t say that! I’ll text you later!”

The last thing she heard was his lovely laugh, the one that made her shiver.

When she opened the door, four bodies came tumbling into her room. She jumped back, yelping in surprise. The girls were a tangled mess of arms, legs, and hair. DAEE tried to pull herself up, using Chae and Ienna as support. They cried out in pain and annoyance, only further entangling themselves.

Eun Mi crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for them to sort themselves out. They all clasped their hands before them, heads bowed, once they managed to get to their feet.

“So?” Eun Mi asked. “Did you figure it out who I was talking to?”

They shook their heads. All they knew was that she’d been happy, laughing, and serious all at once. Whomever the guy was, she truly liked him. Heck, they’d known that from the get-go. Their leader would not put CELESTIAL at risk in any way shape or form unless it was worth the risk.

This man, apparently, was.

Eun Mi braced herself; the girls followed suit. “I’m dating Woo Taewoon.”

For a few breathless moments, no one moved then Ienna screeched. “YOU’RE DATING CORN HEAD, JERK FACE ZICO’S BROTHER?!”

“I’m dating Woo Taewoon! SPEED’s former leader Woo Taewoon! Rapper Wuno!”

“Oh boy,” Chae placed a hand to her cheek. “Does Zico know?”

Eun Mi wished she’d never said anything.

Zico had been meaning to tell Taewoon how Snoop Dogg had complimented him, how he’d advocated that he’d be placed on top. He wanted his brother to have that extra boost of confidence.

At this point in the competition, there was nothing else Taewoon could do. The producers were to perform before the contestants in the next segment, all Taewoon had to do now was choose a team.

Zico didn’t knock on his door when he first arrived. He heard his laugh, that special laugh he reserved for his nameless, faceless girlfriend, and had walked right by. Which was just as well, since he’d still been upset, confused, over his evening with Eun Mi.

His confusion and frustration only made him angry. Well, angrier.

What exactly was her problem? Did she have to be so—so—?

Taewoon knocked. “Jiho-ah, mom wants to know if you want something for dinner.”

Zico pulled the door open, threw his arms around his older brother the way he used when he was little and scared. He very much felt like a little boy again.

“Hyung.”

Taewoon didn’t say anything. He didn’t move away or ask him if he felt okay. He just stood there, petting his head comfortingly, a single arm around his shoulders.

“Hyung, I think I messed something up and I don’t know how to fix it.”

He felt Taewoon stiffen. Zico stepped back, his brow furrowed. “Hyung?”

Taewoon gave him a shaky smile. “Hey, it’s no big deal. I’m sure that you’ll be able to fix it.”

Zico wasn’t so sure. For some reason, he doubted Taewoon’s words; he wouldn’t meet his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. He suddenly felt as if this were something he could not talk to Taewoon about, at least not now.

“C’mon,” Taewoon gave his back a slap. “Let’s go keep mom some company while she eats.”

“Hey, hyung,” he called him back.

“What is it, Jiho-ah?”

“Snoop Dogg really liked your performance.” The words didn’t flow out of his mouth gracefully, they stumbled out, tripping over each other. “He said you’re a star.”

Whatever reaction Zico awaited, it was certainly not the one Taewoon gave him. He grinned his lopsided, his eyes sparkling with a thousand secrets Zico would never be a part of. He leaned his head back, contemplating the ceiling in much the same way Eun Mi had back at the practice room in HQ.

“Hey, dongsaeng,” Taewoon threw the word at him with affection. “No hard feelings, but I won’t ever be on your team.”

Zico blinked then grinned, hurrying to catch up with him, throwing his arms over his shoulders, trying to head lock him. “Like I would ever want you in my team.”

Their mother didn’t scold them for being playing rough. She’d tired of that a long time ago. Instead, she got her revenge by sneaking some bitter medicine into their drinks. Neither of them wanted to, but they ended up drinking it just to please her.

If they were going to go down, they might as well go down together. As brothers.