“Woah!”

Jung Yoojin let out a startled yelp when arms wound around her midriff, efficiently preventing her and Jaehwan from tumbling to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs. With their balance regained and feet planted firmly on the ground, Jaehwan chuckled.

“Easy there,” he said, not unkindly, untangling himself from the young woman and retreating a few steps to create a polite distance between them.

Yoojin blinked rapidly, and then her eyes widened with dawning realisation and she dipped down in a hurried bow, the apology tumbling over her lips in heavily English-accented Korean. “Oh, I am so sorry!” She straightened, but didn’t quite meet his eyes as she nervously smoothed the imaginary folds in her summer dress. “Sorry. Again. Are you alright?”

With an assuring, and slightly confused, smile, due to Yoojin’s accent making her words somewhat difficult to decipher, Jaehwan pointed at himself in question. “Me? Oh! I’m fine. Are you…” He trailed off, looked contemplative for a moment, and then cleared his throat. He continued, now in hesitant English, “You… Are you okay?”

The moment Jaehwan switched to English, Yoojin’s face lit up, rattling off in the familiar language, “Ah, I’m perfectly fine! Again, I’m so sorry. I just got here, and I –”

“Aah, wait, wait!” Jaehwan interrupted, hands thrown up and a pinched look on his expression, though the edges of his mouth were still turned upwards in a friendly smile. He muttered something under his breath, chuckling, before continuing in his stilted English, “Slow. Go slow. I know English… only little.”

Yoojin bowed her head in embarrassment, wringing her hands nervously. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, once more in Korean, before switching to English for her following words, “Ah… is this alright?” she enquired, slowing down her speech and carefully articulating each word.

Jaehwan smiled and nodded, and Yoojin blew out a relieved exhale. “I am looking for a park that should be near here, but I seem to have lost my way…” She trailed off with a shy laugh.

Nodding, Jaehwan took a quick glance at the papers in his hand, before looking back at Yoojin. “Ah, park? Like…” Mouth pursed, he gestured with his hands, and, upon seeing Yoojin’s bemused expression, let his hands fall back with a laugh. “Uh… Trees and grass, right?”

A smile lit up her expression, and she gave a nod. “Yes.” She raised a finger to her lips in thought, blinked, and went back to Korean to say, “A park. Nearby. Parents… Meeting with my parents.”

Jaehwan nodded pensively and looked around them, scratching his head as he oriented himself. “A park nearby…” he mumbled to himself, and then a light came on behind his eyes and he turned to face Yoojin once more. With a smile, he switched to English. “I know park. We go… this way?”

Yoojin looked in the direction Jaehwan gestured, hopeful but still unsure. Clearing his throat, Jaehwan regained Yoojin’s attention and pointed at himself. “I take you, okay?” he offered, holding out his arm for her to take.

Her smile back to shy, though no less bright, Yoojin nodded. “Thank –”

“Your character may be bad at English,” Wonshik tutted, “but that’s just sad.”

Wonshik had watched the entire scene from his seat on the left side of the makeshift stage, mouth set in a persistent line and arms crossed petulantly over his chest. The actors had slipped off by themselves to rehearse, and Wonshik had happened upon them running through their lines and thought he could spare a moment to watch. He had remained unseen for most of it, letting the actors practice their scripts, his judgment growing with every second that passed. Eventually, he had been unable to sit still and observe anymore and had thus set off towards the stage, evading Taekwoon’s hands trying to catch him and drag him back down with a grace that spoke of years of experience.

Jaehwan straightened, mouth twisting as his gaze trailed down Wonshik’s figure as though he were the most repulsive thing he had laid his eyes on the whole day, if not month. Eyes snapping back up to meet Wonshik’s, he placed one hand on his hip and sneered. “Wonshik. How lovely it is to see you. I see your flattery has not diminished, despite the lack of schedule you’ve taken on recently.”

Looking over Jaehwan’s shoulder, Wonshik managed a genuine smile at Yoojin, one that she returned before she stepped down from the stage, conveniently coming to the decision that now would be a good time to take a break. Then his smile dimmed, and he pinned Jaehwan with a glower. “I am here, am I not? I have a hand in the songs you’re going to sing.”

Arching one eyebrow, he tilted his head and threw the script in Jaehwan’s hand a pointed look. “Funny. For the star you’re supposed to be, you memorise your lines admiringly slow.”

A smirk slid onto Jaehwan’s expression, and he shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s the price I have to pay for being incredibly popular. I’ve had quite a bit of ads as of late. Surely you’ve seen them?”

Emitting a small laugh, Wonshik said, “Aah, one of them was that makeup ad, wasn’t it? I saw it.” He continued coolly, “Did they throw in a bonus because you came to the set with the stuff caked on?”

The smirk on Jaehwan’s lips dropped a bit, and he folded his arms over his chest with a huff. “What can I say? I wear the product well. I’m sure if they wanted someone with that more rugged, hobo look, they would have given you a call.”

Wonshik’s lips twitched in annoyance, but his thin smile stayed glued on his face. “Well, I guess they wanted a healthier look. I see the camera didn’t add ten pounds this time.”

The script in Jaehwan’s hands crumbled as he fisted his hands, and he took a step closer to Wonshik, snapping, “Why, you piece of sh-”

Hakyeon, Jaehwan’s manager, came rushing towards them with Taekwoon following close behind him. “Ah! Easy, kids. What have we told you about playing nice?” He pinned Jaehwan with a pointed look as he came to a halt by his side. “Particularly with ones who have a bit of authority in a show you star in?”

Wonshik grinned at the sour expression on Jaehwan’s face, and, had Taekwoon not appeared behind him just then, would have spit out another insult. As it was, Taekwoon grabbed his ear chidingly, pulling a yelp from Wonshik.

“And you,” Taekwoon muttered; Wonshik flinched slightly at his tone, “with the bit of authority Hakyeon mentioned, ought to act like it. They were in the middle of practising their lines, and you were rude to interrupt them. I thought I taught you better.”

Wonshik caught the snort from Jaehwan and twisted around just in time to see the stick out his tongue at Wonshik as he pulled out of Hakyeon’s hold. “I’m going to find Yoojin-ah. Do me a favour, Wonshik? Stay the hell out of the way.”

Wonshik swatted Taekwoon’s hand away and sneered at Jaehwan, ignoring Taekwoon’s warning hiss. “Even your fans know you need all the practise you can possibly get. And more.”

Jaehwan, already on his way off the stage, merely flipped him off.

Hakyeon shared a loaded look with Taekwoon that Wonshik didn’t care enough to try and interpret before he set off after Jaehwan. Wonshik ground his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to try and calm down.

“Are you quite done?”

Wonshik easily detected the aggravated tone in Taekwoon’s voice, and let his shoulders slump.

“Yeah. I’m done.”

“I am going to bodily haul you away if I catch you exchanging more insults with Jaehwan today, you got that?” Taekwoon grumbled, eyes narrowed at Wonshik. It would have almost made Wonshik feel bad, giving Taekwoon trouble, if he were able to control the impulse to insult Jaehwan. As it was, there was little control of anything when it came to his dealings with Jaehwan.

“Sorry, hyung,” muttered Wonshik.

With a sigh, Taekwoon let his hand drop onto Wonshik’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. “Let’s go find the director,” he said as he steered Wonshik down from the stage. “He is the reason we’re here, after all.”

-

As a former idol, Wonshik was no stranger to being in the limelight. He had had his face printed across various magazine covers and on social networking media more times than he cared to count. Mostly, he didn’t mind – hadn’t really had another choice but to get accustomed to it, because with stardom, you sacrificed your privacy. It was either that or give up your passion, and Wonshik was no quitter.

Even if his old group disbanded two years ago, Wonshik was still under Sin Entertainment as a model, music producer, and composer. As such, he was still popular and had a fan club in his name made up of loyal fans from his time as leader and rapper in ROVIX as well as newcomers, a result of recent activities, most of which being modelling and a few offers to collaborate with fellow artists.

Wonshik cared a lot for his fans, old and new alike, and was always polite and easy to be around for interviews and variety shows. He knew he would be nowhere without them, would have little success if not for their adoration and interest in what he did as an artist.

However, sometimes, seeing his life written in black and white was too much.

During ROVIX’ peak, his abilities had been taken apart and questioned by netizens and reporters, his words twisted until they hardly resembled his actual answer, regardless of content. It had been a whirlwind of Ravi has gained so much weight, haha, he must be exercising too little and eating too much, and Ravi is looking a bit thin, isn’t he? I hope he’s eating well, to I feel sorry for the other members in ROVIX. Ravi can’t lead or rap for and ROVIX, hwaiting! Your fans believe in you! Ravi leader is the best!

Wonshik had known - knew - there was no way to satisfy everyone, and yet he had tried so hard. To please those poking fun at his weight, he had constricted his diet and squeezed another hour into his exercising schedule, and for those criticising his skills as a rapper and leader, he had put in more effort, staying at the studio past midnight to practise and write, resulting in too little sleep and trembling hands that he hid in his lap for interviews. Taekwoon, ROVIX’ manager at that point in time, had caught on fairly quickly and given him a fierce reprimand.

Still, it had taken being rushed to the hospital after collapsing on stage for Wonshik to care more about himself and less about everyone else. Some people, he had been forced to accept, would find fault in every single thing he did, and no amount of practise or days of starving himself could change their tune.

There had been articles questioning the credibility of Wonshik’s stay at the hospital, speculating if maybe it weren’t a way to gain media coverage and attention, but upon the insistence of those closest to him, Wonshik had tried to ignore those particular reports. While it is the critique that will help you know what to improve, you shouldn’t focus so much on improving that you lose sight of what parts of you are already great, Taekwoon had said. Sometimes wisdom meant listening to what needed to be improved, but not dwelling to the point of ignoring the positives.

It may have gotten easier, after that, to turn a deaf ear to the unwarranted criticism and harsh words, but when ROVIX, with the moral support of Park Hyosin, founder of Sin Entertainment, announced their disbandment due to conflicting interests in an exclusive interview, the media blew up and Wonshik suffered with it.

For weeks, Wonshik had been unable to go anywhere without flashing cameras and mics thrown at his face. What are your plans now that ROVIX is over? Will you continue as a solo artist under Sin Entertainment? Do you regret disbanding? Could you have prevented it? How is your relationship with your now ex-members? Do you hold a grudge against any of them for letting ROVIX down?

ROVIX’ disbandment had been upsetting, of course, but Wonshik didn’t regret it. None of them did. Their fifteen minutes of fame had come and gone, and they had grown to be different people, different artists. Wonshik had felt it was the right time to start making a name for himself. Ravi was mostly forgotten, replaced by Kim Wonshik. Wonshik had missed being himself.

Consequently, it had been only a few months after ROVIX’ disbandment that Wonshik and Jaehwan had split up after one too many arguments.

Wonshik and Jaehwan had, with Hyosin’s consent, announced their relationship during ROVIX’ fourth year, after their peak, at a time where ROVIX was stable in the music industry. It had evoked uproar amongst fans and media alike, despite the rumours that had gone around for almost a year prior to the statement.

It hadn’t been easy, answering rude reporters while keeping a polite tone and ignoring homophobic slurs in a country where homouals weren’t welcomed with open arms, but they had come through it, if not unscathed. They had had each other to lean on and support from family, co-workers and fans, as well as various celebrities, both in Korea and internationally, and it had been enough. Or so they had thought.

In retrospect, the amount of scrutiny may have set its mark on them.

Their relationship after it had become public knowledge had been turbulent, one filled with ups and downs and busy schedules that left them both exhausted and irate at the end of the day, prone to picking fights and screaming at each other until one would slam the door shut in the other’s face. Wonshik had difficulties remembering the good times in the beginning when they would laugh together and exchange adoring smiles, the memories tarnished by tears and hoarse throats from angry outbursts.

Eventually, it had culminated in Wonshik throwing a dish at Jaehwan that smashed into pieces when it hit the wall and slamming the door after him when he left Jaehwan’s apartment, never to set foot there again, other than to collect his stuff. And he had made sure to do that when he knew Jaehwan would not be there. It had marked the end of their relationship.

It had been a terrible month.

Rumours along with the articles picked up, fans siding with their favourite and throwing hateful words at the other for being so horrible to their poor artist. Wonshik’s fan club website had been spammed with baleful comments, everything from I hate you for making Jaehwan oppa cry! to I used to love you, but this is too much! to Die, you ! drowning the ones that offered their support and understanding.

Once more, Wonshik was forced to face the flashing lights and nosy reporters with polite smiles and bows, even if all he wanted was to curl up in his bed and cry his heart out, because the world was unfair and people, who had once proclaimed themselves his true fans, cruel.

He had been strung out, miserable after his breakup with Jaehwan, even if he realised it was for the best, and angry at those treating him like he was the only one at fault. Taekwoon had often been the one to find him sobbing in the shower, the water long turned cold, or holed away in the studio, working until exhaustion pulled him under and frequently forgetting to eat.

Wonshik wasn’t a quitter, but the hateful comments could possibly have made him into one, if it hadn’t been for Hyosin going out of his way to help his artists and Taekwoon for his never-ending support and, at times, brutal honesty. It had been what Wonshik needed to face the world that knew way too much about his life, despite his occasional heartfelt wishes that it didn’t.

Being in the same entertainment company, Wonshik and Jaehwan were fated to cross paths eventually, and everyone had held their breath when it happened, a mere week after their split. Neither Wonshik nor Jaehwan had lifted their gaze or spoke; they simply gave each other a wide berth as they passed.

The tense silence didn’t last for long.

Wonshik didn’t remember who threw the first insult – it could have been him just as easily as it could have been Jaehwan – but it started a trend, and it was now widely known that Wonshik and Jaehwan did not get along with each other, to put it mildly. Despite that, there had been instances where they were modelling for the same brand or label, and curses would inevitably fly between them, but they prided themselves in their working ethic and professionalism, and were thus capable of ignoring each other to get the work done.

Once in a while, when Wonshik was feeling particularly weary, he wished they could just ignore each other. Each insult hurt, regardless of whom uttered it. He sometimes hated himself for not being the mature one of the two and ending this petty game of who can hurt their ex the most.

Still, Jaehwan brought out that side in Wonshik without even trying, the side that couldn’t let go and refused to be the first one to back down and get on with his life. Wonshik didn’t particularly regret it when he won, but it did leave him with a peculiar hollowness in his chest.

For the most part, he tried not to care.

-

Wonshik’s favoured place to have lunch – and occasionally late dinner – was a café located fifteen minutes from his workplace at the corner of the road, nestled between a flower shop and a clothing store. If not for the slightly expensive dishes, the privacy the place offered was enough for him to become a regular.

His first visit had not been without stares, but unlike some places, the patrons eventually went back to their meals or drinks, and the waitresses didn’t trip over each other in their eagerness to serve him (it had happened once; though, to be fair, the girl had been in training), nor did they come by his table every fifth minute to ask if everything were alright or if there were anything he needed; thus far, the waiter had only approached twice, once to ask if he’d like anything to drink whilst he waited, the second time to refill his glass. They were professional and gave him room to breathe as he enjoyed his meal, without the prickling sensation of eyes on his neck.

The café was modern with splashes of traditional that may have seemed out of place, but somehow fit the ambiance. Sets of comfortable mahogany chairs and pillowed benches placed around tables encased the kitchen island where the chefs cooked in the centre, illuminated by the yellow lights hanging from the ceiling and the windows in the walls, large but without making the customers feel like they were on display.

Halfway through his second glass of water, Wonshik looked up to find Taekwoon coming through the front door, already looking around for him. Wonshik held up his hand when Taekwoon’s gaze swept towards him, and then the elder was heading through the rows of tables and chairs towards him.

“It’s rude to suggest going out for lunch, and then be thirty minutes late,” Wonshik chided playfully, watching Taekwoon shrug off his coat to drape it over the back of his chair. Taekwoon gave him an unimpressed stare as he plopped down.

“The meeting with Hyosin sajangnim and the kids took longer than expected,” he explained, not sounding very apologetic. Wonshik clicked his tongue disdainfully, which earned him another of Taekwoon’s glares. “You watch it.”

Snickering, Wonshik leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on the table, before levelling Taekwoon with a curious look. “So, are you leaving my side for those kids anytime soon?”

Taekwoon shrugged vaguely, reaching for the menu to give the choices a contemplative glance; pointless, Wonshik thought wryly, considering that Taekwoon ordered the same thing for lunch nine out of ten times.

“Their current manager’s wife is due in a few of weeks, so I might,” Taekwoon mused, seeming more interested in the prospect of food than this opportunity just within his reach.

“You should do it,” Wonshik advised, raising a brow when Taekwoon looked up from the menu momentarily to pin him with a sceptical stare.

“How could I possibly leave you to your own devices? I leave you unattended for two minutes and when I get back, I somehow always find you around Jaehwan, and then it’s up to Hakyeon and I to get between the two of you before one of you commit murder.”

Fighting down a scowl at the mention of Jaehwan, Wonshik averted his eyes and muttered petulantly, “Not always…”

Taekwoon snorted, unconvinced. “No? Need I remind you of last Monday? He was minding his own business, like you were also supposed to, and before I knew it, you were flying towards the stage as though a hoard of spiders were chasing you. You must be a glutton for punishment or have some sort of for you to seek him out constantly, instead of leaving him alone like you should.”

When Wonshik still gave him an incredulous stare, Taekwoon rolled his eyes. “Or the time before that, where you nearly lunged over a table at one of the company meetings. It’s like you are a hound looking for a racoon to corner.”

“He sometimes seeks me out,” Wonshik pointed out instead of trying to defend himself. He hissed when Taekwoon kicked him under the table.

“You are both idiots,” Taekwoon declared. “Still, the point stands. If I become BTOBIX’ manager, I won’t be around you, and then who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get yourself in?”

“I am an adult.”

“You don’t act like one,” Taekwoon countered, before softening. “At least, sometimes you don’t. Becoming four kids’ babysitter means that I can’t keep an eye on you as well as I can now.”

Sensing what Taekwoon was really getting at, Wonshik straightened in his seat and met Taekwoon’s eyes without flinching. “I am older now, and I’m not under the same amount of pressure. I will be fine, hyung.”

Pursing his lips, Taekwoon went back to the menu, deciding against pursuing that topic. A waiter appeared a minute later, taking their orders, and then promised to get back with their drinks in a moment. Once provided with a mug of coffee each, the topic of Taekwoon’s future prospect began again.

“You’ll like it, I bet,” Wonshik said, cradling the mug between his hands as he kept his eyes on Taekwoon, who was nursing his own coffee.

“Possibly,” Taekwoon murmured. “The kids are all well-mannered and driven. They love what they do. If I am to become their manager, I wouldn’t mind. They have a well-spoken and caring leader, one I am sure will continue to lead them with a fair but firm hand, and they look up to him and respect him, though I know there’s also place for jokes and games.”

A soft smile appeared on his lips, and he hummed. “They are a cheeky bunch. Managing them won’t be easy, but, fortunately,” he arched a brow at Wonshik, “I have more than enough practice with handling unruly kids.”

Wonshik snorted, but didn’t disagree. It was the truth, after all. “So you’re going to agree.”

Taekwoon tilted his head, blinking contemplatively. Then his lips curled in a slight smile, his head dipping forward in a nod. “I think I am.”

“I can’t wait to formally meet your kids,” Wonshik cooed, and Taekwoon looked torn between laughing and kicking him again. Eventually, he settled on rolling his eyes.

“They’ve all been in the company for more than two years. You’ve met them before.”

“But then they weren’t yours,” Wonshik pointed out with a grin.

“You are insufferable,” said Taekwoon, but his twitching mouth gave him away.

-

When he had collapsed on stage, he had been forced – even threatened by Taekwoon – to stay at the hospital for a few days to rest, and then go home for an extended weekend. There, his parents and sister had proceeded to fuss over him, demanding that he stay in bed and eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, no skipping. Wonshik loved his parents, adored his sister, but being banned from doing so much as stretch his arm to reach something above his head for days on end was horrible. He remembered how miserable he had been, like his skin was crawling with disdain.

Riding in the back of a van on his way to a joint photoshoot with his least favourite person was a very close second to that feeling he had back then.

“Play nice,” Taekwoon warned as the building came into view, the chauffeur taking them to the entrance to be set off. Wonshik had both a driving licence and a car, but one of the pros of stardom was a chauffeur and a van courtesy of the company; Wonshik recalled filming scheduled at the crack of dawn and catnaps stolen in the car in that precious time between the dorm and the location.

“Don’t I always?” Wonshik drawled, receiving a look from Taekwoon.

“Hongbin assured me that there would be very few shoots with only you and Jaehwan,” said Taekwoon, watching Wonshik closely through the rearview mirror. “Hopefully, that can discourage you from going at each other’s throat.”

“So long as Jaehwan keeps a professional front, so shall I,” Wonshik grumbled just as they pulled up at the building. Taekwoon nodded, appeased for now.

They were led to the set by one of the assistants, where Wonshik barely had time to greet the crew and the other model, one Kim Seokjin, who was shooting his solos, before he was given a set of clothes by a stylist and directed to a backroom where he could change and have his makeup and hair done. Hongbin was nowhere to be seen, so he left Taekwoon with Hakyeon. The two seemingly gravitated towards each other whenever they were in the same place, despite Taekwoon’s occasional complaints about Hakyeon’s enthusiasm.

Hakyeon’s presence, however, meant that Jaehwan was most likely to be found in the backroom, so, resigning himself to his fate, Wonshik announced his arrival with a light knock and opened the door. Inside, he was met with the stony face of Jaehwan, the man already seated in a chair with a young woman tending to his hair, which had changed colour since last time. A light golden blond – and it looked good on him, Wonshik begrudgingly admitted. Another woman was sorting through the makeup to use for Wonshik, and spared a look up at his entrance.

“You’re here,” Jaehwan drawled, his eyes drifting towards Wonshik in the mirror. “Took you some time.”

“Some of us had a schedule before this,” Wonshik threw back as he was taken to the chair beside Jaehwan.

“I see,” Jaehwan hummed, his smirk just barely noticeable in the mirror. “You’re going to need a lot of makeup to cover up that skin of yours and the bags under your eyes.”

“Shame you’ll need God’s intervention to look presentable,” Wonshik countered, watching with some satisfaction as Jaehwan’s eyes narrowed.

The women shushed them, and so Wonshik and Jaehwan fell into a tense silence as the women worked their magic.

Taekwoon entered some ten minutes later, just when the woman was applying the finishing touches on Wonshik. Jaehwan was already dressed, and out shooting his solos, probably.

“Looks good,” Taekwoon hummed, and Wonshik offered a small smile. He had never been a huge fan of makeup, but years in this industry had long since taught him to just do what was required. “I trust you’re ready soon?” He looked between Wonshik and the makeup artist, and left again when she nodded. Wonshik followed him out two minutes later, dressed and ready to play his part.

They were shooting a spread for a popular brand of men’s clothing, stylish and modern. Some of the clothes were casual, like those Wonshik was currently wearing, whilst others were better suited for formal occasions.

Hongbin, an esteemed photographer, famous for his excellent skills with a camera, was currently ordering Jaehwan and Seokjin around for the perfect photos. It amused Wonshik how confident Hongbin was while in his element, only to turn timid outside of it. He was a good friend of both Wonshik and Jaehwan, which at times put him in a difficult position. It definitely hadn’t been easy for him, back when Wonshik and Jaehwan had just split up, and nowadays he tended to just steer clear of the topic to avoid choosing sides, accidentally or not. He only ever got between them if their bickering interrupted a photoshoot in any way.

Jaehwan and Seokjin’s shoots continued for another ten minutes, and then it was Wonshik’s turn with the other model as Jaehwan changed clothes and had his makeup and hair touched up. It went smoothly for the most part, with Hongbin sometimes telling one of them to turn a bit to one side or the other, lift your head, do this, do that. Wonshik trusted him to do a marvellous job, though, so he went along without complaints.

An hour later, after much running to and fro the backroom and the set, it was time for the joint shoots. Jaehwan and Wonshik exchanged disdained looks, but stayed silent as they stood with Seokjin - Wonshik had chatted with him between takes, and had found the man to be a good conversationalist and in general kind and down on earth - between them, smiling and laughing for the camera and scowling between every shot. Mostly, they kept their distance, two good-looking guys in the same shot but certainly not together. There came a time where their interaction was necessary, a few friendly gestures added, like Wonshik slinging his arm around Jaehwan’s neck and laughing. Hongbin, however, made sure to keep those few and far between, and they only held those poses long enough to get a shot before they resumed their distance.

“Good work, everyone!” Hongbin announced, nearly three hours after arrival, his dimples on full display as he regarded the crew and everyone else on set. “I think we have what we need, so let’s call it a day. Thank you for your cooperation!”

The crew cheered before people began to mill in different directions, Wonshik lingering behind. Jaehwan and Hongbin had chatted earlier, so when Jaehwan went to the backroom to get ready to leave, exchanging pleasantries with Seokjin, Wonshik approached Hongbin, greeting his friend with a smile.

“Good work to you, as well,” he said, patting Hongbin’s shoulder.

“I think you’ve deserved it more than I,” Hongbin insisted as he fiddled with the camera; he wouldn’t let any other get near it, so he was always the one to pack up his equipment. “Yours and Jaehwan’s chemistry is horrid in person, but I think it managed to look acceptable on camera. I’m glad you were able to work together without your typical exchange of insults.”

“We did start in on one another in the backroom,” Wonshik admitted, “but the makeup team told us to shut up. In nicer terms, of course.”

Hongbin huffed, a laugh hidden in the noise, and said, “Well, even then, you didn’t do that on set. I applaud you.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before Wonshik went to the backroom, where Jaehwan was packing up - Seokjin, it seemed, had already left. Wonshik fought the urge to sling an insult at him, and instead concentrated on removing the worst of the makeup, leaning against a counter as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Jaehwan remained quiet, as well, for all of three minutes. He was ready to leave, but came to stand beside Wonshik, looking down his – large, Wonshik mentally added, smugly – nose at him.

“I thought I’d let you be one of the first to know,” he started sweetly, causing Wonshik to stop what he was doing and instead look suspiciously at Jaehwan through the reflection, “that I’m soon going to start working on my autobiography. Hyosin sajangnim has already given the green light.”

Wonshik’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. A lot of celebrities wrote autobiographies, though usually later in life. Then again, Jaehwan had accomplished more than most in his relatively short career. But Wonshik watched as Jaehwan’s smile turned almost vicious, the other man elaborating on why this bit of information would be important for him to know, “I’m going to dedicate a whole chapter for you, and, believe me, it won’t be in your favour.”

“What?” Wonshik spluttered, spinning around to gawk at the other man.

“Intelligent,” Jaehwan tutted, his fingers tapping a familiar rhythm onto the table. Wonshik couldn’t remember the song title right off. “You didn’t hear me? I’m going to let everyone know how horrible a person you are, so you just wait.”

“You can’t be serious,” Wonshik snapped, taking a step closer and consequently getting into Jaehwan’s personal space. At the moment, he cared very little about that.

“Oh, I am serious,” Jaehwan promised, grinning when Wonshik scowled. “It’s going to be published sometime next year, I think, so I’ll be very busy these coming months. I have to make sure I portray you in the proper image.”

“Jaehwan, an autobiography is no joke,” Wonshik growled, seething at the thought of Jaehwan writing lies about him in some ty book. As though reporters weren’t enough, he now had to deal with this, a book written by someone who not only knew him personally, but on an intimate level. He almost felt betrayed, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out whether or not he had the right to feel that way, with how their interactions went nowadays. “I hadn’t thought you’d stoop so low.”

“The truth shall prevail,” Jaehwan snarked, righting himself and heading towards the door.

“Jaehwan.”

“See you around, Wonshik,” Jaehwan trilled, uncaring, and then he was gone.

“er,” Wonshik hissed under his breath, left to blink stupidly at the door.

Had Jaehwan been serious? Was he honestly going to write an autobiography to tarnish Wonshik’s name? He couldn’t believe it. Would Jaehwan really do that to him? The thought alone made his chest hurt. They couldn’t be in the same room without fighting unless their professionalism was required for something, but this…

He remembered the song now. It was Memory, a song he had penned himself. With rather fitting lyrics, at that.

Wonshik was torn between the fury in his chest and the betrayal burning low in his gut.