"I see you received my message, Kai," the boss affirmed, looking obnoxiously complacent.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me 'Kai'," the newest member huffed with a vehement glare.

"And I thought I told you to stop calling me 'Uncle'. You know very well that it's 'Boss Kim' to you," Boss Kim corrected with the tick of an eyebrow, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction, "Jongin."

Jongin snorted at how utterly inane "Boss Kim" sounded in his ears, and resisted the urge adjust the collar of his light grey suit. He felt as though he was going to asphyxiate from how unbearably itchy the clothing was.

"Whatever, Boss Kim. It's not like I'm exactly pleased to have you as a relative," Jongin sneered, shifting his weight to the left. He tapped one of his meticulously crafted brogues and checked his wrist watch just for show. "Can we make this quick?"

His uncle simply ignored him and accepted a glass of liquor from his lynx eyed subordinate.

"Have you considered the offer I made you?" Boss Kim asked over the rim of his crystal, bourbon-filled cup. He swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the ice to clink against each other with lucid insouciance. He smacked his lips before holding his glass out to the side for his subordinate to take care of. Jongin's eyes followed the makeshift waiter, taking in his tall and toned stature, his bleached blonde hair, and his surprisingly swarthy complexion. The blonde flashed a cheshire grin in his direction and Jongin hastily turned his attention back to his uncle.

"My answer hasn't changed."

"But it will. Eventually," Boss Kim surmised, surprisingly calm as he broke his ramrod posture and leaned into the leather of his chair.

"What makes you so confident?" Jongin retorted, chewing the inside of his cheek in annoyance. His uncle had always been this way: easily riling Jongin up, conjuring lies at his convenience. He was a persistent one, requiring Jongin's presence annually to ask the same question and receive the same answer. He had the power of persuasion on his side, almost winning Jongin over on several occasions, but he'd never been able to provide any solid blackmail to pester Jongin with. However, Jongin knew his uncle had been paying a particularly close eye on his behavior recently. Could he- could he have noticed Jongin was protecting someone?

"Let's just say...I have some reassurance."

Jongin's eyes flicked to his from where they were wandering indolently over his shoulder. His stomach churned.

No.

He's bluffing.

He couldn't have...

Jongin swallowed heavily.

"What... do you mean?"

"Oh, now you're interested. Well, no matter. What's done is done," his uncle shrugged with a certain nonchalance that seemed amiss considering the potential threat he'd just made. Jongin curled his slender fingers into a clammy palm.

"What are you talking about, Uncle?" Jongin seethed, stepping towards the source of his frustrations, but, once again, he was disregarded.

"Zitao? We're finished here," Boss Kim dismissed, motioning to his subordinate. The lynx-eyed man from before stepped forward and dragged Jongin wordlessly to the entrance of the study by his elbow. Jongin jerked in his grasp.

"Get off me!"

Zitao chuckled lowly and tightened his grip unbearably. Jongin winced, slowly losing feeling in his forearm.

"Uncle! What reassurance?" Jongin yelled over his shoulder, fighting Zitao's hold so hard that the blonde was forced to press two slender fingers into the pressure point on Jongin's neck joint. Jongin's knees buckled and inky blotches danced across his vision.

"What have you done?" he demanded hoarsely before being tossed out of the room by Zitao, who smirked before closing the large, French doors in his face. 

Jongin squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his vision. Slowly, he dragged himself to his feet, stumbled down the first hallway, then rounded a corner and sprinted shakily down the next. As he passed by doors and family heirlooms, his mother's warning came flooding back through his mind, information that both he, as well as most household, knew had to be executed at all costs:

Your uncle must never find out about your condition, Jongin. If he does, he will kill you and anyone attached to you. He needs you, but not desperately.

Jongin aimed to hasten his death, that much was certain and most definitely the reason behind smoking his New Life cigarettes and avoiding his daily medication, but there was something just so terribly unappealing about dying by his uncle's hands that motivated him to avoid all encounters, if possible. Besides, Jongin had already decided that if he were to die, it would be by his own devices.

On top of that, having the blood of the people attached to him on his hands was unthinkable- nauseating.

Jongin halted in his tracks upon sighting his mother being served tea by Sehun, one of the many butlers in the mansion. He was a lithe male, much like Jongin, except Sehun had always been pallid. His hair, much like his complexion was unusually light, and he had never outgrown the lisp gained from four years of braces. The sibilant sounds that plagued his speech were actually quite endearing, once you got passed the flying saliva. He and Jongin had been close once. As he watched them smile graciously at each other and exchange fleeting pleasantries, his heart settled in his chest and a subtle emptiness dragged his lips and eyes downward.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, he sighed deeply through his nose.

"I need a cigarette."

-

A bottomless groan escaped Kyungsoo's plush lips as he navigated himself through unfamiliar territory. Kyungsoo failed to understand how just a simple quest to find a coffee shop had ended with him wading through a pair of jeans, the material too heavy for this time of the year, on a lengthy boulevard he didn't recognize.

Grumbling as he kicked away stray pebbles from the sidewalk, Kyungsoo trudged to a stop in front of a small bookshop. He gasped.

"Is that..?"

Kyungsoo peered through the window, practically glaring with his astigmatism as he plastered himself to the translucent surface, a picture that would surely frighten anyone on the other side of the glass. Or at least make them shift uncomfortably.

"It is!" Kyungsoo cheered upon sighting the vast collection of mangas tucked away in the corner of the shop, he hustled inside in hopes of completing his treasured Prince of Tennis series. 

The blast from the air conditioning felt heavenly on Kyungsoo's sun soaked skin as he made a beeline to the corner, ignoring all the curious eyes of the other customers. He instantly began scanning the shelves upon arrival, poring over all titles with determination. This was surely the place to be right now, although the titles did sound a bit racy to Kyungsoo... 

A Therapist... 

Kyungsoo's eyebrows melded into his hairline

Big Brother...

Kyungsoo skipped a few rows.

Name of Love...

Kyungsoo ran his fingers along the spines of the books, scouring over each title carefully. 

Private Prince...

He'd reached the P section, finally.

Prince of...

"Aha!" Kyungsoo cried out triumphantly, ripping a volume of the manga off the shelf. "Please be volume 26! Ah, Prince of-."

"Passion?" a vaguely familiar voice rang from over Kyungsoo's shoulder. Kyungsoo turned with wide eyes to find Baekhyun, the waiter from the diner Jongin had taken him to, staring at him quizzically. Kyungsoo's irises flicked from Baekhyun's to the cover of the novel, which turned out to be a hardcore with two feminine looking teenage boys locked in a passionate embrace on the front cover, in absolute horror.

"I-i-it's not what it looks like!" Kyungsoo sputtered, a flush creeping up his neck. Baekhyun shrugged.

"Your preference in, uh, literature is nothing that I should be judging."

"No! I don't- I don't read things like this," Kyungsoo continued, waving the manga around like a dancing baboon. "I was just looking for Prince of Tennis!"

"Mhmm," Baekhyun hummed incredulously.

"I don't!" Kyungsoo squawked.

"And yet you're here in the a section," Baekhyun said, pointing to the sign just above Kyungsoo's head reading " Manga". Kyungsoo gaped at the sign he'd somehow managed to miss in his rush to the shelves.

Silence settled between them like an awkward third wheel.

"So... you and Jongin, huh?" Baekhyun cast out, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Kyungsoo blinked owlishly.

"I'm sorry?"

"You," Baekhyun pointed at Kyungsoo, "and Jongin."

"What about me and Jongin?"

Baekhyun gave him a long look.

"Jongin comes in here sometimes- for poetry and philosophy novels. Although he's always cold and reclusive... He couldn't even give me the time of day, if I asked. We used to know each other, pretty well I'd say, when he still went to high school." Baekhyun rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, as if reminiscing. 

"He's a graduate?"

"Not quite. He just dropped out one day for no reason at all. He had great grades, was a total teacher's pet, a football jock and everything."

"Sounds ideal."

"Damn right. He had ladies throwing themselves at his feet." Kyungsoo's eyebrows fused together, unable to form an opinion on the information.

"And some guys of course." That made one of Kyungsoo's thick eyebrows pull away.

"Jongin became a real player after his football fame, slept around with people- never the same ones of course. You'd think he'd get kicked out for that, but no. He just started showing up less and less until he just stopped coming entirely. It was strange."

"You haven't asked him about it? Doesn't he regulate your diner?" Kyungsoo broke in.

"Have you really talked to the guy? I mean, he seems to like you, but me on the other hand..."

"I get it."

"Do you?"

Kyungsoo shrugged.

"You're right. I really don't know much about Jongin, we've only met a couple of times, which were super awkward an we haven't talked much, but he's been nice to me."

Baekhyun sighed.

"He might be that way now, but don't be surprised if he does a complete 180."

"Is he really that bad?" Kyungsoo asked softly, tilting his head to the side. Baekhyun pursed his lips.

"I don't know about you, but from what happened to me, I'd say yes. Just... keep it in mind," Baekhyun concluded, turning to walk off.

"Oh, Baekhyun?"

"Yeah?" Baekhyun half turned to face Kyungsoo again, his caramel bangs falling in his droopy eyes. He jerked his head to the side to flip them out of his slender face.

"I never asked what you were doing here."

"Oh, that's easy. I work here." Baekhyun flashed Kyungsoo a rectangular grin and waltzed away before Kyungsoo had a chance to say any more. Kyungsoo stared blankly as Baekhyun struck up a conversation with the cashier, who looked like he could touch the ceiling if he so wished, and would have been intimidating if not for his ridiculous curly hair and oversize ears. Shifting his gaze around the small bookshop, Kyungsoo absentmindedly smacked the graphic novel against the palm of his unoccupied hand. Realizing that he was still in possession of the obscene object, he swiftly placed it back on its respective shelf and exited the shop before he could damage his nonexistent reputation any further.