[A/N: Hello everyone, Blue_Blosson 90 here! First, I would like to thank all of you for reading and loving Brothers Were Brave (BWB). When I first started, I didn't think it would receive this much love, so thank you! Now, as I know that there are many of us with different situations going on in our lives, I would just like to let everyone know that this chapter may be somewhat of a TRIGGER to some readers. It includes scenes with ANXIETY, so please be aware as you go ahead and read this. I hope you all stay safe and healthy while reading this. Again, thank you so much!]

If things happened as planned—what would life be like if things happened as one planned them?

In Eun Mi’s case, she would have probably tried to make it to the Olympics (just as everyone continued to say), struggled her way through college algebra, gotten her dans under her father’s tutelage, and, ultimately inherited his dojo. She would have probably had a boyfriend, more than likely an athlete as well (maybe a baseball player, she’d always liked them best), or maybe she would’ve been too busy for one.

One thing was for certain, however, she would not have ever set foot on South Korea if her parents were still alive.

As for singing, Eun Mi would have received a few singing lessons from her mother, been part of their local church choir, and that would have been it. No more singing from Eun Mi because her life, for a fact, would have been very, very, very different if things had gone as planned.

If Ms. Bishop had been able to finish work on time, she would have been able to pick up the girls from school. If only she wouldn’t have been stuck in traffic, Eun Mi’s father would not have lost his patience. If he had not lost his patience, he would not have gone to go get them. And if Eun Mi had not agreed to take part in that special district tournament, her mother would not have been worried enough to tag along with her husband to prevent whatever temper tantrum he might have had.

If things went as planned, the truck driver that headed north as her parents headed south would not have been pulled over by the State Troopers on the outskirts of town. He would not have been running late nor would he have been behind the minivan that blew a tire.

If the owners of the minivan had gotten the yearly inspection, the tire would not have blown and the truck driver would not have swerved out of the way into oncoming traffic, right into her parents’ car.

If things went as planned, Eun Mi would not have lost her parents so young. If things went as planned, Eun Mi would not be standing before a group of idol girls, all demanding to know just why and how she ended up dating Corn-Head-Jerk-Face Zico.

But things never went as planned. Hardly ever.

Chae focused on her fingertips. ReNA twisted her hair, combed it out, twisted it again. DAEE hugged her knees to her chest, eyes shifting from unnie to unnie. Ienna, the most riled of the group, towered before Eun Mi, her hands on her hips, nose up in the air.

On occasion, Ienna’s tall, lean body along with her strong character, confused many into thinking that she was the eldest. Eun Mi’s image, always bubbly, silly, and stuck in a body just making it to the five feet mark contrasted with her age.

But that was only in the public’s eye. Behind closed doors, in the comfort of their dorm or the company, Eun Mi’s character became much more sullen, Ienna’s suited her age. She could be the visual, the main vocal, but she was also the youngest.

When things did not go her way, she could whine for hours. When things became difficult, she sunk into the background, letting Eun Mi take charge. The people at B.Star ENT. usually said that Ienna would have made a fine leader; she took so much after Eun Mi. That was only half right.

While Ienna could grow up to be a mature woman with great leadership skills, her mind still refused the things she did not like. One of those things, or rather, one of those people, was Zico.

She would never forget how Eun Mi’s hands had trembled when they’d pulled her aside at the airport. She would never forget the way in which Zico glared at her beloved leader, her favorite unnie.

It wasn’t that Ienna took after Eun Mi, it was that she followed her around long enough to pick up on her behavior, her habits, and mimic them. Eun Mi shined brighter than the sun in Ienna’s eyes. She could do no wrong, even when she fell short of expectations. In Ienna’s opinion, Eun Mi deserved all the wonders of the universe.

The fact that Zico had been the reason for so many of Eun Mi’s anxiety attacks already made her hate him. He had gotten her caught up in a series of rumors and scandals. Her clean image had been tainted. A.Borealis had suffered great insecurities because of him and Eun Mi had been greatly hurt by the entire situation.

Worst of all, they still didn’t know why he didn’t like Eun Mi.

But Ienna knew why she didn’t like him. She didn’t like him because he didn’t like her unnie. Anything that had any sort of tie with Zico instantly became something distrustful. Taewoon, as his older brother, fell into this category.

“Unnie, you’re not lying to us, right? This isn’t some sort of mean, hateful hidden camera?”

Eun Mi shook her head. Ienna cut her off before she could reply.

“Is this why Corn-Head-Jerk-Face is so rude to you? Because he knew you were with his brother?”

“What? No, of course not. Taewoon has nothing to do with my relationship with Zico.”

“When did you meet him? How?”

“A few days after S Broadcasting told us the show wouldn’t air, at St. Cecilia’s.”

“You met him after and still decided it would be a good idea to be with his brother?”

“Did you know Taewoon sunbaenim was Zico’s hyung?” ReNA asked, her voice steady and soft.

Eun Mi blinked. “Well, yes, why wouldn’t I know? Anyone paying close enough attention to Taewoon would know that he has a younger brother.”

“Unnie,” Ienna whined, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “this isn’t some weird, twisted way to get back at Corn-Head-Jerk-Face is it?”

All color drained from Eun Mi’s face. “I would never do that to Taewoon!”

“You’re not using his hyung to get back at him, are you?”

“What? No! Honestly, Ienna, the things you come up with! Just what kind of person do you think I am?”

Their argument ended abruptly with the frightening sound of the front door’s lock rejecting the passcode. They stood still, their ears attentive. They all wished they’d misheard, hoped that it had been just a desperate trick of the mind

Once more, the lock rang with the denial of entry. The girls jumped to their feet, hiding behind Eun Mi. Ienna clung to her arm, Chae and ReNA hugged each other tightly. DAEE bit her nail, tears in her eyes.

Eun Mi took a step forward, bracing herself, shoulders back. “DAEE, call Na Na unnie. Hurry.”

DAEE hiccupped, dashing to their manager’s room. She tripped inside, swallowed up by the darkness within.

Eun Mi walked over to the monitor, bracing herself for the image that could appear. The camera, however, had been blocked by a sheet of paper.

She swallowed. “Who are you? If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

For a chilling moment, no sound came through the speaker. They jumped out of their skins when a girl’s voice shouted, shrill and hateful, into the microphone: “You !”

Something collided against the front door. BANG!

Chae screamed, clinging to ReNA. Ienna lost the strength in her legs. Na Na unnie rushed out of her room, slipping in fright. DAEE slammed the door shut, hiding. Eun Mi’s blood froze. The world spun.

She no longer stood in the safety of CELESTIAL’s dorm. She could hear the Vietnamese fans shouting, cheering. Block B walked behind her; Zico’s glare on her. Someone pulled her hair, slammed her to the ground.

Eun Mi’s throat closed up, her lungs stopped working.

“Unnie! Unnie!”

ReNA wrestled her way out of Chae’s embrace to break Eun Mi’s sudden fall. Ienna, alarmed, watched as Chae and ReNA lowered her onto the sofa with care, listened to her ragged breathing.

Desperate, she looked around. Na Na unnie held the phone to her ear, calling for an ambulance. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the person standing outside their door. Seeing Eun Mi in such a state made Ienna’s anger brim over.

She rushed the front door, grabbing an umbrella from the container beside it. Na Na shouted after her, too slow to catch up.

“Get lost, you anti!” Ienna shouted as she threw the door open.

Whatever had been thrown against their door had been made of glass; Ienna now stepped onto the sharp shards on the floor. She winced, but didn’t back down. Swinging the umbrella around, she looked for their harasser.

Na Na grabbed her shoulder, pulling her inside. Ienna left bloody footprints behind her.

“What are you doing? Are you insane? That’s dangerous!”

“Stop! We need to find them! Otherwise they’ll just keep coming back to harass us!”

Na Na shook her head, blocking her way with her body. “Stay still! The police are on their way.”

Ienna knew that they would be too late. She had been too late. Whomever had done it was long gone.

“You’re bleeding. Let’s get you off your feet. Sit there. Don’t bloody the inside of the house. They won’t let us move out if we damage the place.”

She gritted her teeth, sitting on a chair Na Na unnie had fetched. They would have to leave their dorm. Ienna had heard of fellow idols having to leave because of anti-fans. She never thought it would happen to them. She couldn’t understand it.

The following morning, the media had a field day. Eun Mi had been taken to the hospital the night before. The sedatives they had given her had been strong, she had not come to until the sun had already risen. Ienna had hurt her foot more than expected, requiring ten stitches total from different lacerations on different areas.

Netizens were abuzz with the news. They continued to post and repost the photographs that had been leaked from the police station by H News.

Apparently, the assailant had followed Eun Mi into the dorm, taken the pizza delivery as an opportunity to get inside, and vandalized their front door. Their face could not be seen from any angle of the CCTVs that were in place. In fact, they had taken great care to turn away from them while they performed the deed.

Ienna had been wrong. The assault had not been against CELESTIAL; it had been aimed at Eun Mi.

Across their dorm’s front door the words DIE SONG EUN MI had been written in blood red spray paint. The assailant had thrown a wine bottle against it, the paint had smeared, creating eerie traces on the surface. Ienna’s bloody prints made it all the more chilling.

The police looked for fingerprints in vain. However, they were able to come across the assailant’s escape. They had taken the emergency exits and more than one security camera had caught their flight.

It was a girl, the cops said, a girl wearing a Block B hoodie and face mask. They could find nothing more, inexplicably.

Minha, sitting by Eun Mi’s side, holding her niece’s hands, had listened to the cops deliver the news and ask Eun Mi a series of questions.

“It could be anyone,” Eun Mi protested. “It could even be someone that’s trying to make Block B look bad.”

“Are you defending them right now?” one of the cops asked, shaking his head.

“No, I’m not. All I’m saying is that they might be trying to hit two birds with one stone. By pretending to be a fan of Block B they make them look bad while they harass us.”

Minha squeezed her hand. “She has a point. Maybe it’s to lead you in a wrong direction. BBC wouldn’t—”

“BBC, HCC, KFC, I don’t care what they call themselves,” the cop said. “They’ve committed a crime and everyone is a suspect. Unless you’d rather we leave you alone, let us do our job.”

Minha, displeased and angry, had agreed, though she had quickly escorted them out. Eun Mi hugged her knees, her forehead pressed against them. Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

“The girls? Ienna? Her feet!”

She swung her legs out of bed, wincing at the tug of the IV. Her eyes filled with tears, the room spun as she realized that there was a needle stuck into her body.

Minha held her down, her green eyes wide with worry. “Mija, calm down. Ienna’s fine. She had a few stitches here and there, but she’s fine. They’re all taking a few days off and getting examined.”

Eun Mi gripped her head, pulling at her hair. “I can’t believe I passed out. Just—what—argh!”

“Stop that!” Minha gripped her hands. “You have to calm down, Ma Ri! You don’t want the doctor to sedate you again, do you?”

Eun Mi was desperate. Her heart raced. Her blood rushed. She could hear it, pounding in her ears, driving her insane. Her breaths came in short gasps. It hurt to breathe. It burned not to. She could hear Minha calling out her name. She could hear the distorted words.

She reached for her aunt, looking for a lifeline. But Minha disappeared. She was there one second and gone the next. Eun Mi whimpered. She could feel herself fading.

Some part of her mind knew that she could defeat this. She could. She could. If she could only be held while she found her way back. If only Aunt Minha hadn’t left her.

A strong set of arms wrapped Eun Mi in a protective embrace. They drew her against a broad, warm, familiar chest. A huge hand held her head, her hair every so often. She wrapped her arms around him, gripping his clothes tightly.

“Not here, Eun Mi-ah. You can’t fall apart here.”

A sob nearly choked her. Taewoon held her steady, his fingers twined into her hair. He whispered soft words, describing a paradise of his creation. He pressed his lips against her ear, his heavy voice forming images of beauty. Taewoon wove a story of wonder with just his words.

Slowly, his words made it through. Eun Mi’s shaky breaths steadied, became deeper.

“Good girl,” Taewoon pressed a kiss to her temple.

Eun Mi buried herself deeper into his embrace, inhaling his scent. She held him tighter. Taewoon did the same. Her heartrate slowly decreased. Her limbs felt like lead; she could hardly keep her arms around him. Exhaustion washed over her.

By the door, someone cleared their throat. Eun Mi recognized Uncle Min Soo’s tattletale grunt. Taewoon made no move to stand or to pull himself away from Eun Mi. She nuzzled her face against his chest, loving his presence, loving his arms, loving him.

“Excuse me, but who are you and why are you here?”

In a perfect world, things would go as planned.

If things went as planned, Taewoon would not have met with Eun Mi until after the fifth round of SMTM. She would have returned from visiting her parents and he would have continued on his way to success.

Taewoon would have met Eun Mi’s guardians at his best, with his hair washed, his clothes tidy and pressed. He would have been able to tell them he was a successful rapper/songwriter, that he had an even brighter future ahead of his already bright present. He had planned to make a great impression.

But things hardly ever went as planned.

Taewoon had lost all sense of rhyme or reason when he’d seen the news. It had taken him longer than he would’ve liked to find which hospital they had taken Eun Mi to. He’d had to circumvent his way around to get in touch with Su Jong, and even then it had been through Taeha only after Jungwoo had told him they were close friends.

Someone had set up security guards around her room, which he approved off, but made his approach all the more difficult. It wasn’t until Minha dashed out, alarmed, calling for a doctor, that Taewoon managed to slip in.

Finding Eun Mi in the middle of a panic attack nearly gave him one of his own. Her eyes were wide, gasping for air, hands reaching for anything, anyone. Taewoon had seen it enough times to recognize it for what it was. He had also learned how to best help her cope.

Having her uncle walk in on them had most definitely not been part of his plan.

Min Soo had not expected to see his only niece wrapped up in some man’s embrace anytime soon. So, when he had walked in on the last moments of her panic attack, he had been surprised to find Taewoon guiding and supporting her through the end of it.

He noted that he had not washed his hair, that his clothes looked slept in, and that there were very apparent, very old dark bags under his eyes. When he cleared his throat, Eun Mi only tightened her arms around him.

Taewoon’s eyes met his and he gave him as much of a bowing greeting as he could while hugging Eun Mi. He would have greeted him properly had she not just escaped the clutches of fear. He noticed Su Jong standing beside Min Soo, a teasing grin on his face; he recognized him because of his electric blue hair peeking from underneath his cap.

“Hyung, you’re here.”

“You two know each other?” Min Soo inquired through gripped teeth.

“Course we do! Don’t you know all rappers know one another?”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I’m not. We do know each other and we’re both rappers.”

“Shut up, Jong, you’re loud,” Eun Mi muttered into Taewoon’s chest.

“What did she say?”

Taewoon cleared his throat. “She asked for you to be quiet.”

Su Jong whistled. “I’m sure she said something along the lines of ‘Shut up, Jong, you’re too darn loud.’”

“Close enough.”

Min Soo gave Taewoon a brief look before stepping out into the hallway. He returned with a pale Minha and a doctor.

Eun Mi refused to let go of Taewoon, so the doctor had to check her vitals with her glued to her boyfriend.

Su Jong approached them, comfortably, familiarly, combing Taewoon’s hair back, and placing his cap on his head, securing it carefully. He procured a mask from his back pocket, hooking it behind his ears, hiding most of his nose and chin with it.

“There are a lot of reporters out there. How did you get in here without anyone seeing you?”

Taewoon blinked. With the spotlight on his little brother, Taewoon hardly worried about being seen. No one had noticed him, not a single reporter. It had, in fact, been quite easy to get up to Eun Mi’s room.

“Are you always this reckless?” Min Soo snapped.

“No, sir,” Taewoon replied.

Eun Mi, feeling a tiny bit better, sent her uncle a pouty glare. “Don’t be mean.”

Minha sighed, sitting on the small sofa beside Eun Mi’s bed. “I’m sorry that we had to meet this way, Taewoon-ah.”

Taewoon started. Song Minha looked nothing like her niece. She was tall, fair-skinned, with straight caramel hair styled just beneath her shoulders. She had a sharp face, smaller eyes, and thinner lips. She and Eun Mi had two things in common: they were both beautiful, each in their own style, and they both said his name in exactly the same way.

Eun Mi felt Taewoon’s discomfort, his unease at having met her aunt and uncle so abruptly. She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. Taewoon stood, bowing to her family.

“I apologize for meeting you this way.”

Min Soo tried to get a word in, but his wife spoke first. “Don’t worry about it so much. I’m glad we met this way. I can tell you love my Ma Ri very much. If you had not shown up at all, I wouldn’t have liked you quite as much.”

“Still,” Min Soo put in, “you are both public figures. Let’s meet again when circumstances are better.”

Taewoon thought he was being dismissed, so it surprised him when Min Soo motioned for Minha to follow him out.

“They have to do damage control,” Su Jong explained.

“Su Jongie, take this thing out of me,” Eun Mi raised the hand with the IV.

“Hell nah. Do you want the doctors to kick me out? Worse yet, do you want Nurse Kim to get after me? Nuh uh! She’s scary!”

Taewoon took her hand in his, gently covering the needle. His eyes shouted, asking her if she was okay. They were so pained, so worried. Eun Mi felt guilty for worrying him.

As an idol, she should tell him that he had been foolish to come. More problems could arise from such recklessness. Their relationship could be exposed, scrutinized, criticized. They had more to lose than to gain if that came to pass.

Yet she could not bring herself to scold him. He had appeared just when she had needed someone the most, had helped her cope through that scary attack. He’d held her closer when she’d clung to him.

She caressed his clothed cheek, gazing into his eyes. Her silence thanked him, comforted him, welcomed him.

Su Jong waited for their moment to end. It became apparent that those two could gaze into each other’s eyes for all eternity if they were given the chance. He sighed dramatically, dropping the bag he’d brought for Eun Mi on the floor, loudly.

She jumped. Su Jong fetched a brush from within and started combing her hair. “Hold still. You look like Medusa right now.”

Eun Mi, relaxed by his touch, tried to address the matter before her. “Zico, does he know about this?”

“I don’t know,” Taewoon confessed. “He was not home this morning. He went back to HQ last night after having dinner with us.”

Su Jong wondered how they could talk about Zico. He knew, from what Eun Mi told him, that Taewoon really loved his little brother. He also knew that Zico somehow always managed to trigger one of Eun Mi’s attacks.

One brother triggered them while the other one dispelled them. Really, what where the odds?

“I’m sure he knows,” Su Jong said. “It’s all over the news. Unless he’s locked up somewhere without internet, he should know.”

“What a mess.”

Taewoon watched Su Jong plait Eun Mi’s hair into a pretty braid. “How did you learn to do that?”

“Do what? Braid hair?” He gave Eun Mi’s finished braid a toss. She turned around to smack him. “I lost a bet once. I had to be her slave for an entire month. It was hell. First thing she taught me was how to braid her hair.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Eun Mi scooted closer to Taewoon, resisting the urge to climb onto his lap. She looped her arm through his, resting her head on his bicep. “Everyone told you not to do it.”

“You didn’t tell me not to!”

“No one told you to listen to me.”

“You told me to!”

Finally, Eun Mi smiled. The tension in the room deflated, disappeared without putting up any sort of resistance. Taewoon and Su Jong had both been worried that this event had broken Eun Mi beyond repair.

“Manager Jo sent some clean clothes,” Su Jong nodded to the bag on the floor. “He said it would be good for you to reassure A.Borealis after you feel better.”

“With a selfie?”

“Duh.”

None of them felt like really considering the gravity of the events. They pushed it under the rug. Su Jong, always hungry, made a run to the cafeteria and returned with coffee and sweet bread. He no longer offered to do anything for Eun Mi. Taewoon took over with ease.

Despite their busy schedules, those two had managed to spend enough time together to know each other well. Eun Mi looked for the bread without cream filling, handing it to Taewoon. He was lactose intolerant, she told Su Jong. Taewoon, on the other hand, didn’t hand Eun Mi her iced coffee until the ice had melted. She could not drink bitter things well, so she always waited for the ice to water it down.

Su Jong watched them. They seemed to be a single organism. They moved around each other with ease, even the most miniscule movements complemented one another. They were each other’s suns, the center to their universes. This dance between two suns both fascinated and appalled Su Jong.

Their conversation turned from one subject to another effortlessly. Sometimes they fell into a comfortable silence before their words filled the air again. Su Jong liked the way their voices sounded together; Eun Mi’s smooth, silvery sound blended with Taewoon’s deep, grave baritone. He made a mental note to suggest a collaboration later.

A soft knock on the door drew his attention away. He set his own food down; Taewoon slipped the mask back on.

“Probably the doctor,” Su Jong said. “They might be doing rounds.”

Chorong had been worrying about Eun Mi all day. She had finally managed to escape from her busy schedule for a few hours to stop by and check on her. If she had been answering her phone, she might not have had to travel all the way to the hospital. Actually, even if she had answered her phone, Chorong would have stopped by anyway.

She had been expecting reporters to be loitering around, but the hospital had driven them out for the sake of the patients. Chorong had stopped by a flower shop to buy Eun Mi’s favorite daisies. She’d meant to buy a bouquet but ended up with a really pretty, really heavy basket instead.

So, when she found Zico in the waiting room, she was glad that there was someone to take the basket from her. She didn’t ask him what he was doing there, she knew he’d been meaning to visit Eun Mi. After hearing what had happened, all the leaders in HQ were concerned for their maknae.

“Come with me,” she said. “I’ll tell her I dragged you here if you want me to.”

Zico had given her a tentative smile and followed her. Chorong would have never imagined finding Su Jong and a rather tall, rather big man sitting on the bed with Eun Mi. He had a mask over his face, his cap pulled low over his eyes. He turned away from them slightly. Eun Mi’s eyes widened.

“Eun Mi-ah!” Chorong dashed forward, wrapping her arms around her friend.

The man stood up, quickly receding to the farthest corner of the room. Eun Mi returned Chorong’s hug, keeping her horrified eyes on Zico.

Zico had seen the man sitting on Eun Mi’s bed as well, but he had been forced to look away by Su Jong’s glaring presence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came with Chorong noona.” He held up the heavy flower basket, glad that Chorong had had the foresight to concoct such a simple yet bulletproof excuse.

Su Jong snatched the basket out of his hand. Inspecting the flowers carefully. He set it by Eun Mi’s bed, touching their petals with gentle fingers. He kept a glaring eye on Zico.

“How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?” Chorong fussed.

“No, unnie, I’m okay.” Eun Mi placed the hand with the IV underneath the blankets, avoiding it. “What are you two doing here? There was a bunch of reporters outside earlier.”

Zico placed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders. He’d drawn his snapback over his eyes, hiding them from Eun Mi.

Chorong busied herself with Eun Mi’s hair, away the stray strands that Su Jong had missed. She wasn’t stupid. She felt the tension in the room. Everyone at HQ had been able to pick up on Zico and Eun Mi’s rocky relationship. Most had agreed not to meddle; Chorong only acted as if there was nothing wrong because Eun Mi had asked her to once.

Eun Mi’s eyes softened the longer she took in Zico’s body language. He looked young, small, afraid, maybe a little ashamed. She hated how their relationship was, hated that she did not have the courage to ask him what made him so upset or why he hated her so much.

If she were being honest, what frightened Eun Mi the most was finding out that he did have a reason to hate her. If that were the case, how could she apologize for all the trouble she’d caused.

Zico and Eun Mi’s relationship was theirs. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that it would place Taewoon in a really awkward position if they were not, at the very least, cordial with one another.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Zico said quite unexpectedly.

Eun Mi and Zico where the three people in the room that knew he meant driving away from her so harshly. It didn’t sound like much, but really, it was a huge step in patching up their relationship.

Making amends with one another had suddenly become very important to both of them. To Eun Mi for Taewoon’s sake. To Zico…well, he did not know just what made it so important as of late.

Su Jong, however, couldn’t resist putting in his two cents.

“Don’t let the reporters hear. They’ll take it as a confession.”

Taewoon shifted uncomfortably, catching his eye. Su Jong’s widened slightly, shifting quickly to indicate the door.

Eun Mi felt Chorong tense beside her, already aware of the poison dripping from Su Jong’s words.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean,” he pressed, pulling at his blue hair absentmindedly. “You practically sent that anti after Eun Mi.”

Zico jerked his hands out of his pockets, straightened his back. He pushed the lid of his cap up, his eyes sharp slits. He looked ready to fight. “Are you implying that I want to hurt Eun Mi?”

“Everyone knows you don’t like her. It would only take one tiny whisper, a tiny buzzed command to one of your wily bees.”

“Su Jong!” Eun Mi intervened. “What’s gotten into you?”

They exchanged looks. Eun Mi understood that he was trying to get Zico out of the room, but she did not like the way he went about it. She also knew that he meant what he was saying, that he believed it, up to a certain point.

It did Su Jong no good to hear Eun Mi deny it. He wanted to see just how far Zico would go to get back at someone he disliked. If he disliked Su Jong more than he disliked Eun Mi, maybe the anti-fan’s attention would be diverted.

He also kinda wanted Zico to leave the room. Taewoon had been standing awfully still for a while now and if he moved the tiniest bit, Zico would doubtlessly recognize him.  

She was afraid of what recklessness might dictate Su Jong’s actions. For a brief moment, she saw in him his old self, the boy that had nearly forsaken his mother, the one that cared little about others. That old Su Jong had written fierce raps that hated the world; that old Su Jong resembled Zico when he stopped caring.

“It wasn’t a BBC,” Eun Mi said in a tiny voice.

“You keep saying that, but how can you be sure? The cops were right. Everyone is a suspect.”

“It wasn’t a Bee,” Zico said through clenched teeth, knuckles white.

“Of course it wasn’t a Bee,” Su Jong nearly shouted, throwing his arm up in exasperation. “It was a ing wasp.”

Then several things happened at once.

Zico lunged at Su Jong. Taking him by the collar, he raised his arm, ready to let his punch fly. Eun Mi tried to stop them, held back by Chorong to prevent her from ripping the IV out. And the man that had been standing so still by the corner moved so quickly, Zico didn’t see him until he was upon him.

His hand, bigger and stronger than Zico’s, clasped his wrist. He pulled back as Zico tried to swing forward. The man’s arm came around his waist, grabbing him tightly, pushing him away from Su Jong without much effort. He handled Zico as if he were made of paper, countering whatever force he might have applied with a greater one of his own.

“Let go!” Zico thrashed against him.

Taewoon looked at Zico, his eyes digging into his with harsh reprimand. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. Zico’s subconscious picked up on his hyung’s stern scolding. Recognition crept along the edges of his mind, flashing across his eyes.

“Ugh! You’re such a useless manager!” Su Jong threw a pillow at Taewoon’s head, breaking their eye contact. Taewoon kept his head bowed, playing along with Su Jong’s quick plan.

“You’re supposed to keep this kind of from happening to me! If he had punched me, I would’ve made sure you were fired!”

Chorong gawked, shocked at Su Jong’s uncharacteristic rudeness. She sought answers from Eun Mi, but the younger girl only had eyes for Su Jong’s manager and Zico.

Zico, suddenly aware of her eyes on them, pulled himself free from the manager’s grasp. He brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt, clearing his throat.

“I just came to see if you were okay.”

“I know.”

A pause. “It wasn’t one of my Bees. It couldn’t have been.”

“I know.”

The silence stretched out, uncomfortable, heavy. Taewoon watched Zico from the corner of his eyes. He looked pained, as if he wished to say more but, for once, could not find the right words.

“I’ll see you at HQ,” he finally said, walking out of the room without looking at her again.

Chorong looked around, unsure. She wanted to remain with Eun Mi, but if she allowed Zico to walk out on his own, he could be caught by any reporters that might be lurking around.

“Eun Mi-ah, call me when you can, okay? I’m going now.”

“Please take care of him,” Eun Mi said, relaying the message Taewoon could not utter. “He’s having a hard time now. Make sure he gets home safe.”

Chorong nodded, resolute. “He won’t be able to get away from this noona that easily. Fighting!”

She gave Eun Mi a final hug before dashing out after Zico.

“Hyung,” Su Jong said after the door had clicked shut. “I was only trying to get him out of here as quickly as possible.”

Taewoon tugged the mask down, exhaling. “I know, though it would have been easier for me to slip out.”

Eun Mi collapsed on the bed, burying her face in the pillow. Too many people were getting involved. They were all starting to stir a storm in a cup of water. Taewoon rubbed her back, lending her comfort and strength.

His ringtone startled them all. He looked at the screen, his eyebrows drawn together. Zico was calling.

“Hello?”

“Hyung, where are you?”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“Are you home? I’m headed that way.”

It seemed that the assault and accusations had shaken him more than what he was letting on. Taewoon glanced at Eun Mi. She blinked at him then waved him away. He leaned in to peck her lips gently.

“Alright,” he said into the receiver. “I’ll be there in about an hour. I’m at the company.”

“Hurry.”

“What are you going to do about your clothes?” Su Jong asked. “He just saw you in here and he left before you.”

“Are you stopping by the apartment or by SPEED’s dorm?” Eun Mi asked.

“The apartment is closer. I’ll text Jungwoo and tell him to cover for me if Zico asks. Doubt he will.”

Eun Mi nodded, allowing him to steal another kiss. “Go. Jiho-ah needs you.”

Taewoon left.

Years prior, he had not been a good hyung. He had done little to nothing for his kid brother when the greatest crisis of his life had happened. Now, Zico hardly reached out for Taewoon. When he did, it was truly serious. Though he had no idea what he could do, he would be there for him. At least he could listen.

Long ago, Zico learned that the plans one made were never really carried out as expected.

He’d planned to learn as many things as much as he could. That ended up not working out. He planned to make his mother proud; he’d only half accomplished that. His mother spent more of her time worrying about her sons than being proud of them.

He’d planned to be part of Block B, a good leader. Somehow, they were always causing one sort of issue or another. A controversy, a lawsuit, scattered rumors here and there. In the process, Zico had become the main source of their music and their controversies.

He shouldn’t be ungrateful, he was one of the few privileged K-Pop idols that had the opportunity to create his own music. Rapper, leader, song-writer, producer, K-Pop idol. Just how much had he piled up on his plate? He had not exactly planned for so much.

Zico had also not planned for the issue that was Song Eun Mi. He had not planned to see her again, had not planned that on being so involved with her. He had most definitely not planned for her continuous presence in his life. One way or another, Eun Mi kept appearing before him, just like that night so many years ago.

During their first “professional” encounter, Zico had truly disliked her. He had made up his mind to live his life disliking her, to make a point of disliking Eun Mi and demonstrating it. The more he saw of her, the harder it became to continue being mean to her. He found himself thinking of her often, enjoying her voice, laughing at her crazy antics.

Zico had most definitely not planned for that.

What’s more, he had not planned for their relationship, already so strained and shaky, to be affected by something like an anti-fan. Really, Zico did not need their help to mess things up—he had done so himself.

What Zico needed to do know was find a way to fix things between him and Eun Mi. Why he wanted to do so or how he was going to do it, he still did not know. He just knew that he had to.

He planned to.

“You look like .”

Taewoon had not been expecting that greeting. Zico also threw a cushion at him. He was draped over the sofa, his face buried in his arms. Their mother had gone out with a friend. Their father was at work. It’d been a long time since they’d both been at home together.

“Shouldn’t you be practicing for the performance?”

“Look who is talking.”

Taewoon moved Zico’s legs, allowing him to deposit them on his lap after he’d settled down. They didn’t say anything. Taewoon waited for Zico to speak first.

“Hyung, have you ever ed something up so bad you don’t know where to begin to fix it?”

Taewoon wondered if he was talking about his relationship with Eun Mi. He considered his own pile of mistakes before answering.

He thought about the many fights he’d had with the members of Co-Ed School after that vicious rumor. He thought about his fractured friendship with most of them, how he had been quick to mistrust and judge. Taewoon had often attempted to justify his reaction, tried to explain it away as being too afraid of failure, Co-Ed School had just debuted and they had been much closer to failure than to success.

A thousand times, Taewoon had gone over the arguments to the point of forgetting what had been said, his guilt sustained the dark, unsettling, disgusting feelings that had continued to haunt him for years.

Things had gone really wrong. They had all been wrong. He had been wrong.

“Hyung?”

“Of course I have.”

Zico to his back, his long limbs twisting into Taewoon’s. When they were kids, they used to fit just fine; Taewoon sitting with Zico’s toes just brushing his thigh when he stretched out at his fullest. They’d gone through several sofas that way, just sitting and laying there talking or lazing around.

Trying to do it as grown men, both taller than six feet, was a little awkward but no less comforting.

“Was it during Co-Ed?”

“Yeah.”

And after Zico had gone through his own hardships and he had failed to be there for him. Taewoon should have done better. Their relationship was better now, but it still felt as if Zico would rather depend on others than on him.

As an older brother, he felt like a failure.

“Hyung?”

“What is it?”

“That girl you’re with, how did you realize you liked her? Did you two always get along?”

“What’s this all of a sudden?”

“Just answer. Did you two always get along? Did you like her right away?”

Taewoon thought for second, pretending as if the question were difficult to answer. He suspected just where Zico was taking this conversation.

“I thought she was stupid. She was sleeping out on the open.”

“What?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “I met her at a church. St. Cecilia’s is by one of my jogging routes. She was out in the prayer garden one morning.”

“Sleeping?”

“Praying. She fell asleep praying.”

Zico’s eyes shimmered. “That sounds kinda romantic and cheesy at the same time.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s why you liked her because she was praying before she fell asleep.”

Taewoon barked with laughter. “No way! I mean it was cute, but seriously, there was this girl sleeping out in the open while it’s still cold out, holding a rosary in her hands, not aware of her surroundings at all. Would you find that cute?”

“No. It’s stupid.”

“Exactly.”

“So then what happened?”

“I let her use my shoulder.”

“Eey! Hyung!”

“And then I told her she drooled all over my jacket.”

“You .”

They laughed; Zico shoving Taewoon with his bare foot and Taewoon smacking his leg away.

“Did she believe you?”

“Yeah.”

Zico grinned. “That’s cute.”

“She even offered to wash it for me.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah.”

Zico squirmed, clenching and unclenching his fingers. “How cheesy!”

“Why am I telling you about this?”

“Did you two get along? Even after you told her she didn’t drool? Or wait, did she drool?”

“She didn’t drool.” Taewoon laughed, recalling the memory. “We did get along. We have always gotten along.”

“Ah.”

That was a lie.

Taewoon still remembered the moment he and Eun Mi argued. Hiding inside a classroom in St. Cecilia’s, the tension between them when Zico had been brought up. Taewoon, sometimes, stayed up at night regretting. He had not said it in so many words, but Eun Mi, ever so intuitive, had picked up on his implied accusation: “You are here for my brother, not me.”

How Taewoon regretted.

“Hyung, if you ever fight with her, what will you do?”

“If I did something wrong, apologize. If she did something wrong, wait for her apology.”

Zico clasped his hands, rubbing his fingers together. “You don’t find it difficult? Apologizing, I mean.”

“I do. I can be prideful.”

“Mm. I think I’m that way too.”

“Jiho-ah, if there’s something you need to apologize for, just do it. It’s the first step in making amends.”

Zico gnawed on his bottom lip, his thumb rubbing the sore flesh after his teeth had nearly ripped it to shreds.

He truly worried, Taewoon realized, he worried about how things were between him and Eun Mi. Zico was not known to stress or mull over things like these. He spent so much time working that he never gave himself the luxury to think about his relationship with others this much.

Taewoon also realized a truth that Zico had not yet seen, or if he had, was denying it with his entire being.

Zico had a crush on Eun Mi.

He had a crush on Eun Mi the size of the moon.

Taewoon felt bad for him. He reached over and gave his little brother’s shoulder a squeeze. “Hey, Jiho-ah.”

Zico’s gaze came up, his mouth open, his thumb still against his lip. “Hm?”

“When you like a girl, make sure you’re the one she likes the most.”

He laughed, finding the sudden love advice uncalled for and out of place. “Does your girlfriend like you the most?”

“Yes,” Taewoon said. His lack of hesitation gave Zico pause. “I know for certain that I am the one she loves the most.”

Something shifted in Taewoon’s eyes. He gave his shoulder another squeeze before shoving his legs off his lap and heading into his room.

They were a cracked looking glass, those two brothers. Larger than life, deeper than the earth, two sides of the same coin—morphed reflections.

It was triumph that Zico had seen in Taewoon’s eyes. He’d seen it enough time in his own to recognize it in his hyung’s.

A desperate darkness gripped Zico’s heart without warning. He felt as if he’d lost, felt as if he would always come in last to Taewoon.

But how? Why?

It made no sense. It made absolutely no sense to Zico.

Possibly... had they gone through the looking glass?