“How do you feel about visiting the Kim household?”

Yixing carelessly placed his Panama hat on his desk, giving his work mate an icy glare “good morning to you, too. Why are you speaking in such nonsensical manner this early?”

“Because,” he stood up, walking around his desk and sitting on top of Yixing’s. “I have a feeling you will go there, whether you want to or not, and you know I don’t like tippy toeing around important talks.”

“For someone who supposedly hates beating around the bush, you’re still talking gibberish.”

“Did you even listen to me? You know I’m not fond of repeating myself.”

Yixing sighed, starting to feel worked up. A cutthroat attitude can take you places, he thought to himself. It was the case with his work mate, Huang Zitao, who was younger and on a higher rank than him, and could, sadly, order him around.

“I heard you perfectly the first time, Zitao. And I think it makes no sense to send me there for no good reason.”

Zitao chuckled humourlessly, “don’t put words I’ve not said in my mouth, there is a reason. That’s what they said over the phone, anyway. They invited you. In fact, they specifically asked for you.”

Yixing raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. He had never tried prying for information nor had he tried going there; it’s not that he wasn’t curious, but he had pride and hated rejection too much.

“Are you sure? Did they give any kind of explanation?”

“As to why they chose you?” Zitao asked, sounding bored. 

Yixing thought maybe he’d be jealous of what was going on, but quickly realised Zitao probably had sources everywhere and maybe even a spy infiltrated in the Kim manor. He nodded. “Yeah. I’m not extraordinary, I’m a foreigner, and I’m not even famous.”

“You’re right, but apparently, that isn’t what Kim thinks,” he took a sip of his coffee before adding; “he likes what little you’ve published.”

___


Yixing was finishing packing when he heard knocks on his door. A letter had arrived two days prior to inform him of the details of his trip to the Kim household; he’d been close to cancelling his attendance after he read the line ‘a car will pick you up on Friday and take you back home on Sunday’. Zitao had laughed at his freak-out the next morning.

He was sitting inside a black car with a driver who had only shared his name and informed him that he’d been sent by Mr. Kim Junmyeon, completely unsure of his future. He didn’t know how to address the man whose house he was going to be staying at for a whole weekend. He didn’t know anyone who was close to said man on a personal level, and he hadn’t brought more than two changes of clothes and a notebook with a pen given to him when he was no more than a child.

Upon arrival to the biggest house he had ever been to, he was greeted by a man a head taller than him, almost unnaturally thin, with a face-splitting smile and a bow that looked elegant rather than polite.

“Good evening, Mr. Zhang. I am Park Chanyeol, and I will be serving you throughout the weekend,” he signalled Yixing to follow him through a gravel path. “My master has been ecstatic to finally meet you since he learnt you would be attending.”

He was wearing what seemed to be a tailored suit; it fitted him perfectly. His dinner jacket was black, as well as the waistcoat under it. The white dress shirt made Yixing feel as if he’d go blind if he looked at it for too long, contrasting harmoniously with long black trousers and shiny black dress shoes. The feeling he got from the man in front of him was of pure elegance and grace, instead of that of a servant, and he momentarily felt underdressed and too middle-class to be entering such a place.

“Thank you,” he replied. “I hope I don’t come off as rude, but I still cannot fathom the reason I have been invited.”

Chanyeol turned around and smiled at him, “my master is a big fan of yours.”

Yixing chose to not ask any more questions, instead focusing on the interior of the house; whoever had designed it was certainly a genius. He rolled his eyes at himself for being so easily impressionable; he was inside of Kim Junmyeon’s mansion, what else was he expecting?

“This way, please,” Chanyeol showed him the way through a large room. “A few other invitees have already arrived. Please move freely around the house, as it is your own house for the days to follow. My master will come downstairs as dinner time approaches.”

Yixing hummed as a way of answering, suddenly feeling self-conscious; had that been too impolite? He sighed. 

Scanning the room to see if he could recognise someone, he felt pleasantly surprised to find out that he did. What didn’t surprise him was to confirm that yes, Zitao had unofficially attended, and he probably had something to do with Yixing’s invitation.

He made his way to the only person in the room whom he had at least met in person.

“Fancy seeing you here, Luhan,” he greeted, feeling slightly at ease at the sight of brighter times during the weekend. “Hadn’t seen you in a while.”

“I could say the same,” Luhan replied, playful, not-very-subtly checking Yixing out. “Looking smart, aren’t we? What brings you here?”

Yixing hesitated, “I’m not quite sure, no. I thought your friend Zitao would tell you you’d see me here.”

“Oh, he did warn me about it, yes, but I’m here on my own mission rather than doing him a favour.”

“That’s interesting. You hardly ever have an interest in attending this kind of gathering. Are you in trouble again?”

Luhan looked faux-affronted, “who do you take me for? I just have… interests of my own. There are a few people here who can be real good to meet. Mostly for my business’ sake.”

Placing a hand on Yixing’s back, Luhan guided him through the room. “I still don’t know why I’m here,” Yixing said softly; although he was comforted by Luhan’s presence, he was still worried he might mess everything up as well.

“No one knows why they’re here,” Luhan replied; “the people who came are the ones who have their own interests and know how to grab an opportunity when presented with one.”

“Should I go then?”

Luhan sighed, “you complain that Tao is dramatic, but look at you, eh? You’re not a merchant or a businessman, but you were invited nonetheless. Kim either has a real good reason to invite you, or he’s giving into his own whims, even if that’s unlikely.”

___


“May I have your attention, please?”

Yixing stood up as soon as he heard Chanyeol’s voice atop of the staircase, quickly walking towards Luhan.

“As you may know, you have all been invited to a weekend-long party, hosted by my master, Kim Junmyeon. It is the reward he has deemed generous enough to thank those who have been loyal throughout the years,” he paused, staring straight at Yixing. “He thought this would be a great opportunity to meet new people who have caught his attention as well.”

Yixing shuffled uncomfortably under the scrutiny, turning to look at Luhan for moral support, but Luhan was entranced looking at Chanyeol. He begrudgingly turned back to his original position, wondering if Kim’s butler was part of Luhan’s own interest.

“As I have informed all of you, my master will be coming downstairs a few moments before dinner. He will personally introduce himself to those who haven’t met him beforehand,” he smiled, and Yixing wasn’t sure if butler’s were supposed to look charming when speaking to guests. “Having said this, I will let you know dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. Please stay in this room until my master makes his way down.”

Chanyeol retreated and Yixing counted to five before asking Luhan, “is Park Chanyeol one of the interests you previously mentioned?”

Luhan chuckled, “he is handsome, isn’t he? But, once again, you’re wrong. Why are you so insistent?” Yixing lowered his head.

“I’m just anxious, I suppose. But you looked at him as if he were your prey; I know that look very well.”

“Ah, you do,” Luhan smirked, “I sure do wish I could be on the receiving end of it. It makes me curious.”

Yixing rolled his eyes, “what does?”

“Do you reckon I could seduce Kim?”

Yixing had known Luhan for over a decade, but it didn’t mean he was used to how easily Luhan seemed to use uality to his convenience. He made it seem like an art, and Yixing didn’t know whether to be scandalised or jealous of his self-confidence.

“I don’t know, and, believe me, I don’t want to know,” he replied as best as he could, “why would you even do that?”

“I still haven’t figured it out, but I will.”

___


Yixing was staring outside a large window after leaving Luhan to mingle with the other guests, when Kim Junmyeon made his way downstairs, followed closely by a wary looking Chanyeol.

“Good evening, my dear guests,” he said, smiling widely. Yixing was awestruck. 

This was Kim Junmyeon, a man who was feared by many, a man who could be ruthless; a man who was rumoured to be connected to the North by blood and Japan by contract. Yixing had seen his face in pictures before, but he had never seen him smile. Now he knew why; it made Kim look almost childish. 

“I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves, I gave Chanyeol strict orders to accommodate all of you,” Chanyeol nodded. “Now, shall we enjoy the delicious meal that has been prepared for us tonight? We can converse afterwards.”

"I would like to ask of you to speak as comfortable as possible during your stay; if you are here, it means I have deemed you all to be on the same level of importance, right?" He smiled in a way that could convince even the most strong-willed man into drinking poison voluntarily. Kim and his servant were equally as charming, and it made Yixing's stomach contract with uneasiness. "I would also like you all to call me by my name, rather than Kim. It's too corporate. Let's introduce ourselves now, shall we? I'm sure some of you may find interesting entrepreneurs here today, which could be of use for your own businesses."

Yixing felt a shiver ran up and down his spine, what was he going to say to introduce himself? 'Hello, I am Zhang Yixing, a Chinese journalist working in the South of the Korean peninsula. I have no business and I'm more of a commoner than I am an entrepreneur. Nice to meet you all.' all while speaking informally by Kim's request? He was already covered by a thin layer of cold sweat.

To his right side, there were two famous men, one of which he recognised as a Chinese architect, Wu Yifan, alongside a Korean man, Byun Baekhyun, who was also a renowned trot singer, even with the crisis the country was going through at the moment. He felt dread make its way up his throat.

He listened carefully to everyone's introductions; there was a promising ballet dancer, Kim Jongin, whose face Yixing linked to the name Kai. He had seen him before at the theatre. There were also the Kim brothers, Minseok and Jongdae, who looked nothing alike and were rumoured to not be actual blood siblings. Minseok was a doctor who designed jewellery during his spare time, and Yixing didn’t understand how a person like him, who looked so normal and like a good man, would be linked to Kim. Jongdae, on the other hand, was a historian. Yixing knew he was close to Kim because Kim himself had hired him to write about his family story, which was a mystery to everyone but Kim and his close acquaintances.

Two other men, whom Yixing had never before seen, introduced themselves as Do Kyungsoo, who worked as a private solicitor, and Oh Sehun, who simply introduced himself as ‘just a musician’. After this, Byun Baekhyun beamed and hurriedly explained he was a trot singer who admired Sehun deeply, and joked that he was pleased to meet everyone, but mostly, the object of his admiration, making everyone in the room laugh.

Luhan, being the observant man he was, introduced Yixing right after, saying he was a close friend of his and a writer of all sorts, before introducing himself as a real estate agent, which wasn’t exactly wrong, but wasn’t the whole story either. Yixing supposed not many people knew of Luhan’s main business, although Kim must have known. Luhan, then, signalled Yifan to introduce himself. 

“Hello,” he said, a solemn expression on his face, “I am Wu Yifan, Chinese architect and an activist for the reunification of Korea. I am highly pleased to meet you all.”

Yixing was astonished at the man’s outspokenness regarding such a serious and delicate matter, like the division of the country. Not even Korean people were so open about their opinions on it; it was only common knowledge that everyone wanted it, but still they worried about spies from the north listening to their heartfelt feelings.

Kim walked towards Yifan, giving him a one armed hug as he turned to look at the rest of the guests, “this man is my closest friend and dearest guest tonight, please make sure to treat him well. He might seem angry, but don’t be intimidated by his looks,” he giggled at the end of the sentence, disentangling himself from his friend and leading the way to a room where two large tables sat. When Chanyeol opened the door, everyone walked in, but Yixing was perplexed. He peeked in, and the nagging feeling of inadequacy on the back of his mind only got stronger.

On the table to his left, there were tall wine and champagne glasses, jars full of water, and bottled carbonated water on ice. Yixing’s eyes almost fall out of their sockets when he took in the different types of cutlery on the table; he’d never bothered learning any kind of etiquette.

On the table to his right, all he could see were infinite trays with food. There was traditional Korean food, as well as Thai food, Chinese food, Japanese food and more traditional food from other Asian countries. 

The room was delicately decorated and there were large windows on both sides of it. The tables were placed strategically so no matter which seats the guests chose, they could still see out of the windows. There were speakers hanging from the ceiling in every corner of the room, and they all emitted what Yixing identified as western music from the 1950s, although the volume was only high enough to not ignore it. It surprised him; Kim seemed like a person who would listen to classical music instead.

“Mr. Zhang,” he heard Chanyeol speak from behind him, “please do go in, this is a buffet my master has carefully organised and planned for all of you to enjoy.”

Yixing didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded and began to walk steadily into the room. 

___

After everyone had ate to their hearts’ content, and the room had dissolved into small duos and trios of people chatting tranquilly, the man whom Yixing remembered as Kyungsoo, delicately caught everyone’s attention by lifting his glass while standing in the middle of the room.

“Everyone, I would like to propose a small toast.”

Yixing saw as Chanyeol grabbed a bottle of champagne and started filling each flute on a silver plate before swiftly handing them out to every guest. He saw Kim look at Kyungsoo with amused eyes, as if he knew already what the man was going to say.

“I’ve been a close friend to Junmyeon for years, and even I was surprised when I received an invitation to this gathering,” he chuckled slightly. “Seeing so many new faces here tonight gives me a feeling that it’s bound to be an entertaining event. So, here’s to the host of this reunion, and to everyone else in this room, may you have an unforgettable experience!” Everyone cheered and, for a second, Yixing felt like he was not in the room. He felt as if he was looking from the outside as a doppelganger of his joined all of those important people. 

The only thing keeping him grounded was the feeling that he was missing something important, something that was right there but he couldn’t quite see. 

___

When it was close to 11:00 PM, Yixing was not only bored and sleepy, but also seriously regretting his attendance. Luhan had talked to each guest and made a few new friends, and was now talking to Yifan about business, probably. But that was Luhan, because he liked talking to people. Yixing was decidedly not a loner, but he did not feel comfortable surrounded by strangers who would probably laugh at him if he tried to engage them in conversation.

“I would have never guessed that someone who writes mystery stories, where the main character is always talking to people, would shy away from a few persons in social events,” Kim said as he sat beside Yixing. 

Yixing was at a loss, not knowing how to address the man or what to reply. How should he reply to someone who had clearly judged him before actually getting to know him? Even worse, someone who seemed to have an interest in him, but also, someone who intimidated him so much.

“I guess I pour my personal wishes on the characters I write,” he said, making Kim smile indulgingly. 

“That’s a possibility I considered,” he replied, making Yixing exhale too loudly. “Am I making you nervous?” Kim asked, face full of worry. “Please don’t be. Whatever you’ve heard about me, it’s been about me doing my job. I’m a common man when I’m not working, and I wish to share some words of wisdom with you, Yixing.”

Yixing tried to even his breathing before replying, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t fit into these reunions, and I’m not used to being around people of such high class,” he said sincerely. “I also cannot fathom why I have been invited if I am but a working class man with no class or finesse,” he heard Kim laugh softly.

“You are right about not being high class, but I wanted to meet you,” Kim replied with just as much sincerity. “I’ve read most of the things you’ve published. You have a fresh vision of this world and its cruelty, and I thought it would be of help to you to bear witness to high class get-togethers, and high class people’s behaviour,” he explained slowly, pausing to give Yixing time to understand his words. “It’s my way of saying thank you for doing what you do and helping me feel mundane when my head gets too foggy with work and worry, even if I may not deserve it.” 

Kim stood up, giving Yixing no time to question him. “Should I help you socialise a bit? My friend Kyungsoo, he’s the one who showed me your works. I think you would get along with him,” he said as he ushered Yixing in the direction of Kyungsoo.

Yixing thought it would be awkward, but soon realised Kyungsoo was a great talker and, true to Kim’s words, they did have a lot in common. They talked for what could have been hours, but it was only when they parted ways on Kyungsoo’s request, citing tiredness and a desire to sleep, that Yixing noticed how graceful Kyungsoo was with his words as well. Exactly like Kim and Chanyeol.

All the calm he’d felt while speaking to the man had already vanished. 

It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

His legs felt wobbly as he made his way around the room looking for Luhan, but he was nowhere in sight. Something in his gut told him that they might all be in a dangerous position, and the only person he could talk to was missing, which didn’t do much to help his rising panic.

___


“Mr. Zhang,” it was Chanyeol once again. “I have come to inform you of the room in which you’ll be staying, please come with me.”

Yixing followed him closely. The entertainment rooms were all full of noise and music, but the rest of the manor was so silent it made Yixing feel deaf. He could only hear his breathing and his own footsteps. 

“It’s really quiet,” he said, feeling dumber than ever. He tried again, “I can’t even hear your footsteps, Mr. Park. If you told me right at this moment that you’re a ninja, I would probably believe you.”

Yixing wasn’t really expecting a reaction from the silent butler who only spoke when it was necessary, but a loud cackle resonated through the hallway, and its sole owner was none other than Park Chanyeol.

“Oh, but I am, Mr. Zhang. I am a ninja who is not a fan of bedlam or any kind of mayhem, although I do know pandemonium,” he cryptically replied, still smiling. “Also, please call me Chanyeol; my master would be displeased if he heard you speaking so formally to me.”

Yixing didn’t reply; Chanyeol’s words didn’t make sense, but they did. In Yixing’s muddled mind, everything seemed like the premise of a Hannibal Lecter film, but at the same time, everything was normal. 

“This is the room my master picked for you,” Chanyeol said as he unlocked the door to said room. “He said it would be good to have you sleep in the room next to your friend, Mr. Lu. The room in front of yours is also where Mr. Do is staying,” he grinned; “apparently, my master foresaw you would become acquainted.”

“I brought your baggage as soon as you arrived, so please get comfortable. Is there anything you specially need for tonight?”

Yixing thought for a while, looking around the room to see if he needed anything, but everything he needed –and admittedly more–, he could find there.

“I’m okay like this.”

Chanyeol nodded, “excellent. Do you need me to wake you up at a certain time? Breakfast will be served at 9:00.”

“No, thank you. I’m used to waking up on my own,” he replied, feeling more burdened than pleased by Chanyeol’s offers. “Only wake me up if there is an emergency.”

Yixing didn’t miss Chanyeol’s devilish smirk as he said that. “Duly noted, Mr. Zhang. Have a good night.”

Yixing checked the time on his wristwatch and it read 01:37 AM. There were books in several different languages on a small table at the opposite side of the room, some of which he could recognise. He wanted to read before bed, but it was already late and he was feeling exhausted, so he just eyed some of the most interesting titles and memorised them before going to the bathroom to wash up. There was a strong snowstorm outside when he got out of the bathroom, so he added more wood to the fireplace and checked his clock again. It was almost two in the morning when he finally put himself to bed.

___

He woke up to the sound of loud voices in the hall. He had never been fond of waking up or mornings in general, so his humour was depleting speedily and a headache was starting to take over before he even knew it.
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