Kibum looked quite peaceful sitting in the car on their way to the hall. He repeated his mantras in his head over and over, and practiced calming breathing techniques he had read about on the internet, and was determined to have a good, maybe even great, evening. His therapist was going to be proud of him. He could do it, he could. He was Kim Kibum of Daegu after all.
He got out, as glamorous and chic as he could be, in the posh clothes he had designed himself, and waved languidly to a bunch of sneaky fans waiting at the back door with their huge cameras. He walked like a knife cutting through hot, melting butter – his feet gliding smoothly across the ground. He didn't stop to sign anything.
It was on the back stairs that he finally freaked out.
“No, I'm not going, I'm really not,” he muttered, turning around sharply and almost knocking Eunsook off her feet.
She blocked the way.
“Yes, you are,” she said firmly.
Kibum looked at her through his new Ray-Bans.
“No, I'm not,” he argued, in a fake calm manner, and made another attempt to retreat, but the girl grasped his arms.
She was strong, his assistant.
“I did not spend three hours at the stylist's on the day when I could happily stay at home and watch dramas while stuffing my face for nothing,” she hissed. “So you'd better get hold of yourself, mister.”
It was clear from her countenance that she was dead serious. Indeed, her straight black hair had a luxurious shine to it, her plump lips looked fierce and delicious with that blood red lipstick on, and the combination of her sparkly dress a la Hollywood diva and high heels was not a joke. She was bound to play the role of his girlfriend, after all. He had made sure she would look stunning. (She hadn't quite mastered the high heels yet, though.)
“I can't get hold of myself. So let's hang out another time,” Kibum mumbled, not looking at Eunsook's face, because he was afraid of her.
“Oh, stop it. Be a man this once, dammit!”
He gulped.
“No. Indeed I can't.”
“Yes, you can! And I'll make sure you will!”
The edges of his mouth trembled and he sat down on a stair, as if his strength had been drained out of him all at once.
“You don't understand,” he droned through his hands.
Eunsook gave an exasperated growl and tossed her faux leather clutch on the staircase to stick her fists to her sides.
“Just how many times have we walked through this already? IT WAS LIKE A HUNDRED. YEARS. AGO. GET OVER IT.”
“You weren't there. You don't know.” Kibum made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.
“Except you told me like a thousand times! So you made a pass at him, and now what? I made one at my uncle when I was drunk! Should I avoid our family meetings now?!”
“It wasn't only that,” Kibum said with a sigh.
“So you kissed him, and what? Isn't it what drunk guys do anyway?!”
He shook his head slowly.
“It's not that either... I told him the words, Eunsook. I said I loved him.”
She sighed. Then she bit her lip, figuring out how to be blunt with what she was about to say without causing him unnecessary pain.
“Please, remember that he is happily married. I'm sorry, but… I don't think he cares that much. Anymore.”
“True,” he agreed bitterly.
A cleaning lady froze on the flight of stairs above them, bucket in hand.
They stared back at her, raising their heads.
“Are you Kim Soohyun?” she asked, returning to her senses and pointing her pink rubber-gloved finger at Kibum.
“No,” the two answered in unison.
She blinked and lost interest immediately, passing them on her way down.
“Listen. You are not at the same place you were seven years ago,” Eunsook continued. “You have grown. You've become a successful designer, and you're no longer Key from the Shining SHINee. You are you. So there's nothing to be ashamed of. Go up there with your chin raised high.”
She was impressed with her own speech, to be fair. She was getting better and better at this, thanks to her bosses frequent tantrums.
But this was a sensitive topic, of course.
“You are right. But I'm not ready to see him. I'm afraid,” he confessed, all of his ice-cold glamour put away for the moment.
The main reason why he had not fired this girl after all of her mishaps was the trust he felt for her. With her, he could be his simple, feeling self.
He looked at her, his sunglasses off.
“Could you go and see if he's already there?”
Eunsook felt it was a stupid idea. He was going to see him anyway. But she went, for Kibum.
She could swear, those damned high heels were not made for walking. If only they had taken the elevator! But no, he could bump into him there, the cowardly man. She took the dangerous shoes off and trotted up the stairs barefoot.
Eunsook came back in a minute or two, looking confused.
“Psst.”
Kibum looked up at her.
“What? They didn't see you, I hope?”
The girl felt sorry for him. He was so ridiculous, hiding there in that perfectly coordinated outfit.
“No. Which one is him?” she asked with a perplexed frown, leaning over the railings. “The short one?”
“No, that's Jjong.”
“The tall one, then? He's really hot.”
“No, that's Choi. How come you don't know their faces? What are young people about these days?!”
The girl shrugged.
“I don't care for old guys that much.”
“Yah!” Kibum yelled, offended. There you go. Back to his own colors.
“Okay-okay. What does he look like?”
“Well, he is... Well...”
He looked stuck.
“Height, maybe?”
“About my own. A bit shorter,” Kibum replied readily. “And he's handsome.”
Eunsook relaxed her eyebrows as it dawned on her.
“Ah, there was one! Looks like Satan!”
Kibum shook his head.
“No. Taemin. Jeez, even Tae is here! How late are we going to be?!”
“Sorry, sir, but that is not my fault!” she cried indignantly. “Maybe you would like to go now and save us some time, then?!”
“Well... No.” Before she could scold him any more, Kibum continued: “Warm eyes. Big smile. Soft voice. You'll know him. Now, quick, quick!”
The girl obeyed and ran upstairs again.
He's so not over it. Poor thing.
Kibum put a hand to his heart to steady its fast beating, walking to and fro on the staircase.
I can do it. I can. I'll just go there and-
“Small eyes, rabbit teeth, baby hands?” Eunsook's voice recited unenthusiastically from above.
“If that's-”
“Oh my god, he is here,” Kibum panicked, moving his hand from the heart to the mouth as if he was going to puke.
“Don't worry so. He's not scary at all,” Eunsook said, walking down the stairs to comfort her distressed boss.
“I know. But that doesn't help,” he sobbed.
She slapped his hand away when he tried to clutch his hair in desperation.
“Don't ruin the masterpiece!”
“Ough! How taught you to be so mean, woman?!”
“You did,” Eunsook answered, no shame in her expression. “Do you remember what I told you before?”
Kibum pouted, rubbing his burning hand.
“That I'm a successful designer and have nothing to be ashamed of?”
She shook her head.
“No. I told you that I need to pee. So let's get going.”
Eunsook picked up her clutch and, having stuffed it under her armpit, took the man by the hand, pulling him to follow her.
Kibum resisted.
“You promised me you won't leave me alone with him.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Under any circumstances.”
“Yes!”
“Not even if I ask you to.”
“I said I remember!!!”
They conquered a few steps before Kibum had to go down again for his sunglasses.
“What do you need them for now? You look ridiculous wearing them inside,” Eunsook informed him, leading him up.
“At least no one will know if I cry, ” explained he.

The hall where the SHINee reunion event was going to take place was lined with round tables, the white tablecloths and the flowers in little vases looking prim and officious. The stage was still being prepared.
A bunch of men in elegant suits stood in the middle, laughing together.
“And now I'm going to the bathroom,” Eunsook muttered, releasing Kibum's hand to go away, but he grabbed her wrist.
“Are you kidding?! What if journalists come? People need to see you with me!” he whispered into her ear hotly.
She wiggled her wrist out of his grasp.
“Tyrant,” she grumbled, accepting her fate.
“Tyrant, really?! Maybe you wanna return that Chanel bag you got for free, then?!” Kibum hissed.
“Hell no,” the girl spat.
They broke off their bickering to greet the other ex-members of SHINee. They all exchanged hugs and greetings.
“And you must be Eunsook,” the guy named Jonghyun said, turning to her.
She bowed, grasping her long hair nervously.
“Yes, his girlfriend. I love him. And we sleep together.”
Jonghyun laughed.
“Relax. They know,” Kibum said, patting her back.
Eunsook raised her eyebrows.
“You do? All of you?”
“We shared a dorm with him once,” the tall Choi Minho said as if it explained everything.
“I think he doesn't, though.” Jonghyun pointed somewhere, and Eunsook's eyes followed the direction of his finger. The rabbit teeth guy was standing a few meters away, talking on the phone with someone.
She glanced at Kibum. He was looking at him, too, stupefied. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Why are you holding your shoes in your hand?” Taemin asked, and Eunsook put them on hurriedly.
“So, here's the Master Key!” the guy cried, putting his phone away. He walked towards them briskly, his arms open.
“Tofu Leader Onew,” Kibum greeted back, his voice trembling sentimentally.
Tofu Leader Onew a.k.a. Lee Jinki pulled him into a tight, long embrace. Kibum's hands rested on his back gently.
“Long time no see,” Jinki said into his shoulder.
“Yeah. Long time no see,” the other echoed, in a wet voice.
It was for such moments that Kibum needed sunglasses, his assistant figured. She felt an odd prickling sensation in her eyes. That's just make up. 100 percent. She looked at Jonghyun. He was crying.
Jinki released his friend and looked him up and down.
“You look great.”
Kibum nodded. He knew.
“You too,” he said, running his fingers over the lapel of the other's simple white jacket softly.
Jinki smiled somewhat shyly. Compliments still took him by surprise.

The rehearsal went fine, even though Kibum, being too busy with the London Fashion Week, had not been able to practice with the others beforehand. He sang and danced very well, and Eunsook felt an almost motherly pride watching her boss on stage. It seemed that they were having fun. Probably missing the time when they had performed like this, all together. They were going to sing ‘Dream Girl’ that night, and Jinki, who was playing around with the mic stands, made the other members laugh with his antics.
Age did take its toll on them, though, which was evident when they got off the stage. Everyone, except for Taemin, who regularly took part in dancing projects and practiced together with his students, was panting.
Soon it was time for the red carpet.
“I'll just go to the bathroom real quick, okay?” Eunsook asked with a very sweet smile, but the makeup artist was not amused. Not wasting time on words, the stone-faced woman physically put the girl back on the chair and started fixing her makeup.
Flashing cameras, people screaming, having to walk on high heels while making sure her s were covered by the dress – Eunsook sincerely hated red carpets. And Kibum whispering stuff like “Hold your back straight! Smile!” in her ear every three seconds did not make it anymore enjoyable. He was a perfectionist, and he could be exquisitely annoying at that.
“I'm so getting drunk tonight,” she muttered through her artificial smile.
“Not before you get me home, young lady,” he answered, putting his arm around her waist for another camera.
She was glad to go back inside.

The reporters from the fashion channel were mainly interested in Kibum. Eunsook watched her boss as he explained his latest collection, microphone in face, using the most dramatic gestures and the most intricate vocabulary he was capable of and trying to look attractive while speaking.
She yawned.
“I don't want to rush the events, but you're totally my type.”
The girl shut her open mouth and turned to the man standing by her side, his arms folded on his chest. Taemin.
Eunsook looked him up and down. He looked young, had a nice forehead, didn't have a beer belly and his fingernails were not overly long. Not to mention an absolutely gorgeous, kissable mouth.
She stared deep into his eyes. Nothing. Absolutely blank, shameless expression. Perfect.
“You are not married, are you?” Eunsook inquired, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“No. Happily divorced,” he answered, showing her his bare wedding finger as evidence.
“Okay,” she said and opened her clutch. “Call me.” She gave him her card. “But not in the morning hours. I'm not nice on mornings.”
“Me neither.” Taemin studied the card. “Lee Eunsook,” he read aloud.
The girl raised an eyebrow.
“You forgot my name?”
“No, I just needed to be sure.”
“Give it back,” Eunsook grumbled, trying to get her card back because she had changed her mind, but Taemin hid his hands behind his back.
“What is my position in SHINee?”
“What?!”
“What's my position in SHINee? ” he repeated calmly. “What do I do?”
Eunsook frowned. She forgot again.
“I don't know? The guy who pretends to rap?”
The man shook his head.
“See? We're even.”
“No, we're not! At least I remember your name!”
Taemin arched an eyebrow.
“You. Are Choi Taemin!” Eunsook cried, pointing a triumphant finger at his chest.
He laughed.
“I'll call you,” he promised, putting Eunsook's card into his pocket. “Now excuse me, but I need to pee.”
And he left, prompting Eunsook to remember her own needs.
She was already running in the direction of the sacred door when her owner… no, her boss called her name in that sharp voice of his.
“Where do you think you're going, Lee Eunsook?!”
She stopped and sighed. There was no place on Earth where Kim Kibum wouldn't be able to find her – at least for that exhaustingly endless day.
“Could you please not cheat on me at least while you can still get caught on camera?” he asked, dragging her towards the tables where everybody had been invited to sit.
“Could you please not pull my arm unless you want to rip it off my body?!”
Jonghyun clicked his tongue as they took their chairs.
“Life in a closet must be hard,” he observed, giving Kibum a meaningful look.
“So must be having a big mouth and fighting with pissed off 13-year-olds on Twitter,” the other parried, fixing the silk handkerchief sticking out of his pocket in a glamorously nonchalant way.
“Fair enough. But young people rarely get mad at me. It's old grumps who tell me to shut up usually,” Jonghyun explained to the uninterested Eunsook as the lights began to dim.

Jinki sat next to him, of course. His knee had touched Kibum's as he was moving the chair closer to the table. Of course. And he certainly played with his fork until it ended up on the floor; the sharp metal ring startled a number of people.
“Sorry,” he said with an embarrassed cough (the embarrassment being the only indication of the time that had passed since those days when that behavior, the Jinki behavior, had been somewhat age-appropriate), diving beneath the long tablecloth to retrieve it. Surely he hit his crown getting up, and sealed the scene with an abstract “well.. yeah”, that he muttered to no one in particular, his cheeks flushing almost unnoticeably. He was lovable. And nobody paid attention. Quite like the old times.
A pompous, but touching video presentation was showing on two screens, to everyone's – except for the SHINee members themselves – joyful cheering. When it came to their past award-winning moments and the awkward, repetitive speeches of gratitude spoken in broken and tired voices, Kibum took a look at the others. (Awards had never been a big thing for him. They usually looked too tacky for his taste and always brought more confusion than they did satisfaction.) Jonghyun was sitting with his impenetrable expression, his eyes sparkling softly. Minho had his arms crossed on his chest and laughed at nearly everyone. Taemin looked thoughtful and slightly stressed whenever he saw parts of their performances, the perfectionist in him aching over some mishaps that didn't matter anymore, and chuckled when Minho's teasing nudges brought him back to Earth. Jinki was smiling and pointing at the occasional questionable hairstyles. He was taking everything lightly, laughing at what was funny and not getting too emotional over what was sad. He had turned that page over long ago.
Kibum had barely registered the envy he felt for him over that peaceful forgetfulness, when Jinki did that long-gone thing again – he took Kibum's hand that was resting on his hip, and squeezed it in a secret sentimental gesture that had used to be theirs. He did that because there were the two of them on the screen all of a sudden, all dressed up and being stupid and young. Then there was a cut of Kibum crying while talking to his grandmother on the phone, and a blond Jinki was sitting next to him on the couch, looking touched and a little concerned. In the here and now, he Kibum's hand with his thumb.
Kibum looked at him.
“What?”
“I want to touch your face.”
“Touch my face?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I want to trace my finger along your jawline and brush your cheek softly.”
“But... why?”
“No reason. I just want to.”
Kibum responded to the touch, returned the warm pressure, a sentiment of friendship. He was the first to set his hand free.

~

“We'll be done soon,” Kibum remarked rhetorically, without making it clear whether he meant the tour that was almost finished, or SHINee themselves, as a group, but Jinki understood. He was good at that.
“Regrets?” he asked carelessly. He obviously had none. It was not a secret that he was fed up with the whole thing, and had been that way for years.
“Only one,” Kibum replied with a soft laugh. “I have never spent the night in a hotel room as big as this.”
Jinki shrugged.
“Well, you're not a leader.”
“I've noticed,” Kibum said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, what do you even need it for? I bet all you do is take a couple of clean undies out of your suitcase, hang them on the back of the chair and either sleep or stare at the TV screen.”
“You make me sound like a sad old man.”
“You are a sad old man. That shirt is like eight-years old.”
“It is? I didn't notice. I like it.”
“That's what old men do. They like old things.”
Jinki laughed. Kibum was teasing him, but he actually liked that shirt and that homely feeling he got seeing Jinki like this – sitting on the floor in those old comfortable clothes, barefoot, hair naturally dark and disheveled. No words would be enough to convey how much he preferred moments like this to dancing, entwined by wires under the sweaty, tight-fitting stage clothes that made the five of them look either like toy soldiers or dolls, powerful and powerless, pushed to the limits, in front of the sea of ecstatic faces, who saw them as passing ghosts, ones to be revered and disregarded at the same time. He also knew it was one of the last.
The rain was pouring outside, but it was comfortably warm here. The floor was littered with junk food and some trash from the stuff they had already finished. It was all carbs, sugar and salt. But Kibum, who had aestheticised his life and improved its quality to the point of not being able to imagine his working days without raw salmon and vegetables, did not mind betraying his stomach for one night at all. He was feeling young and didn't notice the time passing.
Also, there were just the two of them. Everything felt complete.
“How would you spend your night in a room like this, then? Would you light up some scented candles, take a bath with wine and lots of bubbles, and then draw some weird stuff for an exhibition?”
Kibum threw his head back, laughing. It was a slightly exaggerated picture, but quite true on the whole. His friend did know his habits well.
“Am I right?” Jinki asked, delighted with that reaction. He was chewing a salty dried squid.
“You're almost there.”
“What did I miss?”
Kibum shrugged.
“A hydrating face mask? And maybe a Hugh Grant movie?”
Jinki laughed again.
“Well... I don't have face masks or romantic movies, but you can stay the night here if you want.”
“Perhaps you're gonna let me sleep on that huge bed with you as well?”
“Sure, why not?”
Why not, indeed.
Jinki and that wonderful simplicity of his. How easy it made everything. How difficult.

Hello friends! Here's the first chapter of my new SHINee story! It's going to be about 4-5 chapters long. What do you think? As always, feel free to subscribe, and comments are very much appreciated~

Your author, Liza ^^