When Taekwoon found him in his studio the following day, Wonshik was still upset, evident in the way he glared at the computer screen before him and the scrapped attempts of writing scattered all over the floor.

“Hakyeon vouched for it,” Taekwoon said upon entering, kicking the door shut behind him. He folded his arms over his chest, pursing his lips as he continued, “According to him, Jaehwan has already started scheduling time to write his autobiography, and is in talks with a few publishers.”

Wonshik had been shocked at Jaehwan’s words, a part of him hurt that he would go that far just because of their past. He had later suspected Jaehwan of lying to rile him up, but, as it turned out, that wasn’t the case. He had been speaking the truth.

Jaehwan was writing an autobiography, and his aim was to denounce Wonshik. The realisation had something ugly twisting inside Wonshik, and he shifted uncomfortably, before meeting Taekwoon’s concerned eyes.

“I… can’t believe him, honestly,” Wonshik murmured, lowering his gaze to his hands again. He suddenly felt too vulnerable under Taekwoon’s stare, too painfully open. “Sure, we had a bad –” he snorted, “no, a horrible fallout, but for him to do something like this?”

“Perhaps he just wanted to get a rise out of you,” Taekwoon suggested, frowning when Wonshik huffed. “Jaehwan may be many things, but you were both at fault –”

“I know that.”

“Let me finish,” Taekwoon snapped at the interruption. “What I’m trying to say is that I doubt Jaehwan will really go through with it. If anything, he’ll probably skip over your involvement in his life in as few words as possible. He just wants to pick a fight with you.”

“Thus he considers it fair to threaten me with his autobiography?” Wonshik hissed, looking off to the side and narrowing his eyes. “That’s –”

“– Childish, yes. But, listen, Wonshik.” Making sure he had Wonshik’s attention, Taekwoon said, “He won’t drag you through the mud with this. He’ll taunt you, fight you, insult you, but not this. Your relationship may not allow you to think better of him, but he isn’t such a person; he won’t stoop that low just to hurt you.”

Wonshik shrugged, trying to sound indifferent as he muttered, “You never know. I wouldn’t have pegged him as such a character, either, but… Who knows how much he hates me? Perhaps he really just loathes me that much to wish me public humiliation.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Taekwoon let out a slow exhale. Wonshik frowned at his dramatics, because he found this situation to be a completely serious one and felt justified for thinking the worst.

“Okay, if we’re going with that scenario,” Taekwoon started. “If Jaehwan really wants to go through with it, there’s still Hyosin sajangnim, remember? He won’t allow such disputes between his artists to be printed like that, because it’s going to depict the whole company in a bad light. He’s definitely going to have a say in the production of Jaehwan’s book. One thing is dismissing the fact that you exchange insults now and then, but this is too public, and as such out of the question.”

Wonshik had to grudgingly admit that Taekwoon had a point. There was no chance Hyosin was going to agree to it, right? A line had to be drawn. Hyosin was a fair man who cared about his artists and always tried to help them in whichever way possible. He would put his foot down if Jaehwan tried to write lies about Wonshik. Or, in any case, tried to write too harsh of a truth.

“Listen,” Taekwoon continued softly. “I can get Hakyeon to sit down with him for a talk, if you want. Isn’t it about time you put this feud behind you? It has been close to two years.”

“I know it sounds stupid,” Wonshik mumbled, “but it isn’t so easy to do.” He sighed, chuckling mirthlessly. “It’s like it’s ingrained in me, this urge to fight with him when he’s around, and even if I try to hold back, if he says anything to me out of line, I fall right back into the same pattern. It’s ridiculous.”

Taekwoon remained quiet for a while, letting Wonshik be alone with his thoughts, and then cleared his throat. “Want to join me for dinner?” He seemed to sense that Wonshik was tired of discussing Jaehwan and his potential shaming.

Wonshik blinked, then glanced at the work in front of him. “Sure. You still have to introduce me to your kids, by the way.”

“They are not my kids,” Taekwoon scoffed, waiting for Wonshik as he got ready to leave.

“But they will be, soon, and that’s what matters,” Wonshik said, a wide grin pulling at his lips as he glanced knowingly at Taekwoon. It earned him a neck-chop.

“Come on, or I’m leaving to eat dinner by myself.”

“You’d think of me with every bite, though.”

“Hardly.”

-

Wonshik didn’t forget about Jaehwan’s intentions in the following days, but he did manage to shove them to the back of his mind where they wouldn’t disrupt him and his focus as he worked. He had a collaboration to prepare for next week, and through Taekwoon he had been tasked with the production of a number of songs for BTOBIX’ comeback set to drop in little more than a month. It had yet to be announced to their fans, but he knew they were in the process of filming the teasers, and would soon begin shooting the music video. A teaser would probably be uploaded at the end of the month on their official YouTube channel, along with the confirmed release date of the new album.

He recalled his time as an idol, and hoped the kids weren’t overworking themselves like he had a tendency to do. Perhaps he could swing by their practise sometime, see for himself that they were all healthy and well-rested. He wasn’t sure he had the patience to wait for Taekwoon, though he would still be expecting a formal introduction once Taekwoon had taken over as their manager.

Taekwoon, he mused as he stared at the paper in his hand, might appreciate having a hand in the production of his future kids’ album. He was well-versed in arranging lyrics and had a deceptively sweet singing voice, which Wonshik had about ever since finding out about it at an outing at the local karaoke bar with Hongbin and Jaehwan some couple of years ago. He tried to get Taekwoon to sing at every chance he got, though more often than not, the task required alcohol to be provided.

With his mouth pursed in contemplation, he looked over the messy scrawling that made up his brainstorming and notes. Yes, he decided, he would ask Taekwoon to work on the lyrics with him; they had done it a few times before, arranging and producing a song and even once earning an all-kill for their efforts.

He blinked, the corners of his mouth unwittingly turning down.

They had gifted that song to Jaehwan, who, upon listening to the demo, had beamed sunshine at them and declared that he would be honoured to lend his voice to such a masterpiece. It had been said with a wink in Wonshik’s direction, and he still to this day suspected that Jaehwan had known the song had been written with him in mind; Jaehwan had often caught Wonshik staring, and that song had been about a man watching his lover from afar.

That had been back when they were dating without the public knowing, only suspecting. Those had been happier times than what would eventually follow.

Wonshik frowned at himself. There really was no point in reminiscing, so he shook the memory away and got to his feet. He would go look for Taekwoon, and if he weren’t to be found, he could seek out the kids. Nodding to himself, he left the studio.

The thing with working in the same entertainment as his ex was that, well, avoiding him was like trying to stay awake when he hadn’t had a wink of sleep for forty-eight hours. As such, it figured he had to bump into him in the hallway.

“Wonshik,” Jaehwan greeted with a hint of surprise in his voice as he came to a halt at the sight of him. Wonshik didn’t know what he had expected. “How lovely. It has been a while since the photoshoot. Did you see the results of our hard work?”

He had, and an insult was at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down and settled with nodding instead. Following Taekwoon’s advice seemed like a good idea. It was due time they put a stop to this ridiculousness between them.

“Shame even Hongbin’s skills with a camera couldn’t do something miraculous for your figure. Or photoshop,” Jaehwan said with a shrug.

Then again, why rush a recovery? It was best to take these things slow, warm up to the idea.

Wonshik snorted, folding his arms over his chest and levelling Jaehwan with a stare. There was a smirk curling at the corner of Jaehwan’s lips, and Wonshik wanted it gone. “Your insults are on par with your intelligence. Can you only think of snide comments concerning my looks? Need I remind you who earned a place on W Korea’s Top 15 striking men still in their twenties last month?”

“You placed thirteen,” Jaehwan drawled. “Hardly anything to be proud of, I’d say. You couldn’t even make it to top five, or even top ten.”

Wonshik shrugged one shoulder, the smile he directed at Jaehwan condescending. “I don’t remember seeing your name on the list.”

Jaehwan sniffed, straightening his back and meeting Wonshik’s eyes unflinchingly. Wonshik had always appreciated the fact that he had a few centimetres on the elder. “I don’t care for lists, but I’m happy people like you can take comfort in them to soothe their insecurities.”

Wonshik tilted his head, the very picture of thoughtfulness. “Yeah? Are you certain it’s not your own doubts talking? I think I saw an article a few months back about your lack of talent. They even claimed you had only made it this far riding on others’ fame.”

Jaehwan ground his teeth, shifting his stance and pinning Wonshik with a glare. “You of all people should be familiar with reporters’ lies.”

“Like the lies you threatened me with last time?” Wonshik ventured, mouth forming a thin line as he fisted his hands. “Saying you’re going to write –”

“Who said anything about threatening?” Jaehwan snarled, and Wonshik paused. “That wasn’t a threat. That was a promise. I’m telling you, next year, everyone will realise what kind of person you really are, and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.”

Wonshik leaned closer to Jaehwan, privately celebrating when Jaehwan took an unconscious step backwards. Trapped in the throes of the anger flaring up in him, burning through his blood, Wonshik leered. “You don’t think so? Well then, I’ll happily to be the one to enlighten you: I am writing my own autobiography, and I won’t be nice either.”

That declaration seemed to take Jaehwan by surprise, but he was quick to bounce back, a laugh passing over his lips as he shook his head. “That’s a little sad, isn’t it? You aren’t really writing an autobiography; you’re just trying to get me to –”

“I’m not?” Wonshik cut off, cocking one eyebrow as he watched Jaehwan’s smirk weaken around the edges. “You may go ask Hyosin sajangnim yourself, then. He can vouch for me.”

“Are you actually serious?” Jaehwan spat incredulously, his glare taking on more heat when Wonshik nodded. “Ha, that’s rich. You deride me for stooping so low, yet here you are, doing the same damned thing. You ing hypocrite.”

“Well, if you hadn’t started it, we wouldn’t even be in this situation,” Wonshik sniped, “so it’s your own ing fault. You shouldn’t have taken it this far.”

“ you,” Jaehwan hissed, and then he shoved past Wonshik, who stumbled at the contact of Jaehwan’s shoulder against his own.

Watching him leave, Wonshik swallowed thickly. He did not feel the same satisfaction as he had once whenever Jaehwan would choose flight over fight. Honestly, there was only a bad taste left in his mouth and an ache in his chest, and a voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Taekwoon calling him a ing idiot.

With a deep breath, Wonshik shook it off and started in the same direction as Jaehwan, now with a new goal in mind.

He had to talk with Hyosin about his autobiography before Jaehwan could get to him. He may not feel decidedly pleased about watching Jaehwan leave in anger, but all the same.

There was no way he was going to let Jaehwan call him out on his lie and then be mocked for it the rest of his life.

-

“You said what?”

Wonshik may or may not have made it his mission to avoid Taekwoon like the plague ever since his argument with Jaehwan, but the older man cornered him the following day regardless of his stealth. Taekwoon was scary on a bad day, terrifying when pissed, and he was definitely not happy right now.

“What in the world possessed you to do that?” Taekwoon hissed, looking like one who wanted to seize Wonshik’s shoulders and shake him until he figured out the inner workings of Wonshik’s brain. Wonshik knew the problem lay with his brain-to-mouth filter, when impulse shut down his common sense.

Wonshik generally prided himself in being an easy-going individual, someone to whom anger didn’t come easily, but Jaehwan had this knack for ruining that, pretty much since they started publicly dating.

Wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue – Jaehwan had called it a nervous habit, back when they had only been friends; Wonshik was inclined to agree – Wonshik drew in a breath and said, slowly, “Hyosin sajangnim already gave the go ahead.”

Taekwoon turned his eyes heavenwards for a moment, before pinning his glare on Wonshik once more. “Are you out of your mind? Since when did you want to write an autobiography?” He squinted suspiciously at Wonshik. “If you really think you can get away with writing about Jaehwan, I’m disowning you.”

Wonshik pursed his lips, tapping his fingernails against his arm and generally trying to avoid meeting Taekwoon’s glower. “If Jaehwan…”

“Are you honestly going to write an autobiography just to get back at Jaehwan?” Taekwoon asked tonelessly, causing Wonshik to shift on his feet as he looked down.

“Perhaps.”

“You are both ridiculous,” Taekwoon groused. “Have you even stopped to consider the effort that goes into writing such a book? Hakyeon tells me Jaehwan has contacted various bookstores and read a number of autobiographies for research. He’s even discussing the content of his book with one or two authors. He is serious about this, whereas your sole aim is to get back at him. You have no aspirations with this autobiography.”

“Who says I’m not taking it seriously?” Wonshik muttered. “Look, it’s not such a big deal. If I end up scrapping the book, nothing will be lost. Only, my pride will be a little bruised when Jaehwan finds out, but at least he now knows I think of doing it.”

“So you are planning on trying,” Taekwoon stated, a question in his tone as he looked Wonshik over.

Wonshik nodded, this time meeting Taekwoon’s stare. “Yes. I am.”

-

Who am I?

To some of you, the answer to my question is easy. I am Ravi.

The question is not so simple, however. I am an entertainer, and because I am an entertainer, I have many different roles and names. Producer, rapper, leader, model… I have been so many different things in my short life. That is what the industry has asked of me, so that is what I became. Labels to help categorise me amongst the others who take up this fast paced life. I am many faces.

But, then again, that’s not answering my question, is it? The labels are my persona as an entertainer, the different hats I wear. That is what I do, not who I am.

To a few people, and to myself, I like to think I am just Kim Wonshik.

-

Taekwoon had his fair share of fans due to his looks and skills; Wonshik was convinced he would have been successful if he had pursued a career as an artist instead of manager, and had stated such often enough, usually earning a shy but satisfied smile from Taekwoon and an occasional fond eye roll.

His fans had appeared around the time of ROVIX’ debut, just around seven years ago, when he was known as ROVIX’ handsome manager. It wasn’t all that uncommon for managers to sometimes garner the love of fans, especially when they proved hard-working and caring on top of being blessed with a handsome face and a hot body. The dedicated fans had been quick to dig up information on Taekwoon, much to Taekwoon’s then astonished embarrassment and ROVIX’ amusement, and his fan club had grown steadily as time went by and ROVIX’ popularity increased.

When Taekwoon’s name had cropped up for the first time on the tracklist for ROVIX’ second studio album, claiming him as co-producer alongside Wonshik, his fanbase had skyrocketed, earning him quite a few mentions online and in magazines. He had even had a number of solo interviews.

Despite the rise in fame, he remained ROVIX’ manager until their disbandment, and then stayed by Wonshik’s side due to them having grown close over the span of years. Wonshik had quickly come to regard Taekwoon as his best friend, and their bond had only strengthened since the end of ROVIX.

The news of him being officially instated as BTOBIX’ manager had his own as well as BTOBIX’ fans rejoicing. Wonshik was horribly amused whilst Taekwoon was lost somewhere between deep-rooted embarrassment and pride.

To celebrate the first successful week of being BTOBIX’ manager, Taekwoon decided to treat the kids for dinner and invited Wonshik to join them.

“I did promise to formally introduce you,” he had said wryly upon proposing the invite, and Wonshik had grinned brightly and promised to be there.

Taekwoon had picked a fancy but reserved restaurant, much like Wonshik’s favourite café. It was one of many traits they shared, wanting to eat without fans and reporters alike breathing down their necks and documenting every bite they swallowed – though, granted, Wonshik knew most other artists shared that sentiment, if not all. A few of their dinners had caused rumours and articles of them supposedly dating. No matter how many times they tried to bury the claims of them being an item, the rumours would unfailingly resurface.

In all honesty, it wasn’t that either of them minded terribly. Taekwoon was supportive of Wonshik showing interest in men rather than women, another of the many reasons why Wonshik held Taekwoon so close to his heart. Taekwoon had never talked much about his own orientation, which Wonshik respected, but he couldn’t help but theorise on the matter. Sometimes, he speculated it was merely a matter of who could be what Taekwoon wanted and needed, and less about gender and physical attraction.

The main problem with the rumours was the endless questions thrown at them, interrupted dinners and other private affairs. Taekwoon preferred being out of the spotlight, even if his career as manager didn’t always permit it, and Wonshik tried to help as best he could. It had won him the title of Protective Boyfriend #1 amongst their shippers, a fact Wonshik often joked about with a sour-faced Taekwoon.

Taekwoon was already seated at the table with his kids when Wonshik was led to them by a waiter, and five heads looked up at Wonshik’s arrival. Wonshik grinned at Taekwoon in greeting. Taekwoon smiled back, before going straight for introductions.

“You already know Wonshik, and he knows you, but as I told you earlier, he wanted to meet you formally with me as your manager,” Taekwoon said to the group as Wonshik found a seat by Taekwoon’s side. Taekwoon twisted his body in order to look at everyone as he started pointing out the members.

“Im Hyunsik, leader, vocalist and dancer. Jung Ilhoon, rapper and vocalist. Yook Sungjae, rapper. Han Sanghyuk, maknae, vocalist and dancer.” Taekwoon then pointed at Wonshik, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “Kim Wonshik, former leader and rapper of ROVIX, now composer and model. Play nice with him; he’s almost your age.”

“I expect a lot from you four,” Wonshik said sagely, motioning at Taekwoon. “He can be strict, but he’s soft-hearted and well-meaning. I will entrust him to you, and hope you respect him as your manager, but will also endlessly, because he deserves it.”

Taekwoon neck-chopped him for that, but he was wearing a small smile as he did so, so Wonshik wasn’t worried. In due time, when Taekwoon was more comfortable around the members of BTOBIX, he would be teasing them back just as mercilessly, so might as well prepare the kids.

With dinner served, the small talk turned to BTOBIX’ approaching comeback, one that the members participated enthusiastically in, excited as they were about their new album.

“We have almost finished filming the music video, and are satisfied with the result so far,” Hyunsik said after a mouthful of rice. “They have all worked hard for this.”

“I can’t wait for our Starlit Melodies to watch the MV,” said Sungjae, grinning over his food. “I hope they like it. We’re coming back with a new concept, one they haven’t seen before from us.”

“They are already busy theorising after watching the teasers,” Hyunsik mused, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. “They’re coming up with a lot of interesting ideas. Their imagination and knack for taking apart every little detail in the hopes of figuring out what we’re doing is remarkable and entertaining to follow.”

“A lot of the theories are pretty farfetched, though,” Sanghyuk cut in, amused. “Sometimes, they forget to look at the whole picture, and instead look into every single detail that has no significance. But it’s still fun, and some of their ideas are worth taking up for future comebacks.”

“There is one theory going around that we are all dead, except for Sanghyuk ah, who is looking for our spirits,” Ilhoon grinned, tilting his head. “It’s a fascinating idea, but I don’t get where they got it from.”

“Fans come up with the most absurd theories sometimes,” Wonshik agreed, vividly recalling his time in ROVIX and the theories leading up to their comebacks.

“Ah, Wonshik sunbaenim, you are producing some of our songs together with Taekwoon bujangnim, aren’t you?” Sungjae asked.

“Correct,” Wonshik said. “You could perhaps come by my studio to look over the lyrics with me sometime. If you have any suggestions, I’ll consider them carefully.” He glanced at Taekwoon as he asked, “Would you mind, Taekwoon?”

“Having a hand in the production of their songs will be helpful for them,” Taekwoon hummed. “They all dabble with lyrics now and then, so it would be a good learning experience.”

“We would love to,” Hyunsik said, and the three others readily agreed.

“Let’s arrange for you to come by sometime next week then, once we have a bit more to show you,” Wonshik said happily.

Sungjae and Sanghyuk fist bumped with a cheer, and Wonshik smiled at the sight. It made him think of his old members, a pang of sadness accompanying the thought. He sometimes missed being a member of ROVIX, missed s and the life of an idol. It wasn’t often he met up with his former members; they’d been close as a team, but not tight-knitted as BTOBIX seemed to be after a few years of active promotions. However, he was happy where he was, and that was what mattered.

After dinner – and dessert – they gathered outside the building. It had started to rain a bit, a light misting falling from the sky and urging them all to put their hoods up. Wonshik had not been very surprised to see a few fans lingering nearby, watching the group with wide eyes. Whether it was the rain or respect, however, the fans kept their distance, snapping a few pictures from afar but not approaching them. Wonshik was a little relieved at that – fan experiences could be overwhelming for young groups, and at this time of night it was best they all just got on home.

Taekwoon would be following the group to their dorm, and Wonshik would take a taxi to his own place; he’d taken the safe route, just in case their drinks ended up being alcoholic.

“From former idol under Taekwoon’s scrutiny to another,” Wonshik said sagely upon parting, winking at Taekwoon and the members, “if there’s anything you want, blackmail or distract him with a baby animal. It’s a trick I learned back when Taekwoon was our manager. Works every time, I guarantee!”

“He’s lying,” Taekwoon said flatly, taking a swipe at Wonshik’s side; Wonshik sidestepped and laughed.

“One of his soft spots is cute animals, however, so make sure to remember that.”

“We will,” Sanghyuk grinned, sharing looks with s. Taekwoon groaned and shoved Wonshik towards the awaiting taxi.

“Go home and leave me alone,” he mock grumbled.

“I’m happy for you,” Wonshik announced, opening the door and smiling fondly at Taekwoon. “You’ll be good for them, and I think they’ll be good for you, as well. You deserve it.”

“Get in the car,” Taekwoon snorted, his nose scrunched at the words, and Wonshik laughed as he ducked under the roof of the car to lower himself into the seat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Wonshik hummed, smiling. “Get them home safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You, too.”

-

Since their last fight, Wonshik had seen Jaehwan only occasionally on the hallway, but they hadn’t exchanged more than glances, if any at all. Wonshik knew from Taekwoon, who talked with Hakyeon on a near daily basis, that Jaehwan was busy wrapping up his musical, the remaining shows countable on one hand, and on the side he had a single he was currently promoting, as well as appearances in a couple of reality shows and a modelling offer.

And then there was his autobiography, which he worked devotedly on whenever he had holes in his schedule.

The problem with that, Wonshik mused as he watched Jaehwan putter around near the stage, was that it probably left little time to rest. He had already heard Jaehwan cough four times since following Taekwoon backstage, even if he had somehow managed to go through the entire show without coughing even once. His medications probably played a part in that, and, going by the distant sound of a fifth cough, the soothing effects were starting to wear off.

Jaehwan had been a sickly child, prone to colds and coughs, and miserable periods bedridden with the flu. As an adult, he was less susceptible to colds as he had been in his youth, but he was liable to come down with something after long periods of stress and too much work with too little rest in-between. What made it worse was the man’s pride, which didn’t allow him to take time off to rest and reenergise. If anything, it made him work harder, fearing that cancelling a show or appearance for health reasons would somehow make him less wanted. He’d work himself to his death if he thought it would make others happy, because one of his biggest worries was falling out of the public’s grace for his own body’s weakness.

Back when they were together, Wonshik had been keenly aware of Jaehwan’s health, listening for the first signs of a sore throat and looking out for the exhaustion that indicated an oncoming illness, and then he’d be there to coax Jaehwan away from work and into bed, fondly nursing him back to health. Usually, the symptoms had been that of the common cold, with an added fever due to Jaehwan’s weak body, but other times it had almost warranted a trip to the nearest hospital, with Jaehwan throwing up everything he tried to consume and crying from migraines and exhaustion, mumbling and shaking feverishly once he finally managed to fall asleep.

Wonshik had really hated those more severe episodes, because they made him feel useless and anxious.

“You’re staring,” Taekwoon hummed by his side. He followed Wonshik’s line of sight and cocked an eyebrow when he found Jaehwan talking with two co-actors.

“He’s been coughing,” Wonshik observed, tossing his chin in the direction of Jaehwan. “Does Hakyeon know?”

“Worried?” Taekwoon enquired. Wonshik turned around to give him a look, but all that got from Taekwoon was a knowing smile. “Hakyeon is aware. We just talked about it, actually. He hopes Jaehwan’s medications can keep him going for the next couple of days to wrap up the musical, but he’s visibly concerned and watches over him almost as meticulously as you. He doubts he can force Jaehwan to rest until after the shows, however.”

“Because he’s dumb,” Wonshik muttered, turning back in time to watch Jaehwan hide a cough behind his hand again. His co-actress patted his back, earning a grateful smile from Jaehwan. Wonshik frowned. “Stubborn.”

“That sounds like someone else I know.”

Wonshik huffed, and that was when Jaehwan finally turned around, eyes narrowing at the sight of them. He bowed shortly to his co-actors and then headed towards Wonshik and Taekwoon. Wonshik straightened his back, following Jaehwan with his eyes until he came to a stop in front of him.

“Good day, Taekwoon ssi,” Jaehwan greeted. “Congratulations on BTOBIX’ second win. They’ve worked hard on this comeback, so they deserve the recognition. I hope they are well.”

“Thank you,” Taekwoon said, nodding his head at the younger. “They are busy, but in high-spirits and healthy.”

Jaehwan smiled disarmingly at Taekwoon, before he turned to face Wonshik, the suns in his eyes overtaken by stormy clouds. “Wonshik. Fancy seeing you here.”

“I had business,” Wonshik shrugged, unconsciously giving Jaehwan’s face a careful scrutiny, then the rest of him. He looked pale, fatigue clinging to his stance. “You look like .”

Wonshik ignored Taekwoon’s hiss and the slap to his arm, instead watching Jaehwan blink at him, visibly taken aback by Wonshik’s bluntness. Then his lips pursed and he regarded Wonshik with a cool glare, though Hakyeon appeared before he could speak his mind.

The older man greeted Wonshik with one of his sunshine smiles, his hand cupping Jaehwan’s elbow in warning.

“Hi, Hakyeon ssi,” said Wonshik, turning to face the man and smiling. “When is the last show?”

Hakyeon glanced speculatively at Jaehwan, who frowned back, before answering, “Saturday afternoon, at four.”

Wonshik nodded to himself. “Alright. Good. Just three days.”

Taekwoon and Hakyeon exchanged a few words, Jaehwan and Wonshik dutifully pretending the other was not there, before Wonshik and Taekwoon bid their goodbyes and started for the exit.

“Why the sudden interest for Saturday?” Taekwoon asked, watching Wonshik closely from the corners of his eyes as they walked.

Wonshik merely shrugged. “Curious.”

-

Saturday, he went to watch the show alone, and left once he had seen for himself that Jaehwan had regained some colour since their last encounter.

-

In my life, I’ve had multiple debuts. All just as exciting, and nerve-wracking, and all just as important to the development of my person and career.

I debuted as the leader of ROVIX and had to take on the different roles and responsibilities that came not only with being a new idol, but being in charge of other new idols. That particular debut was a bit easier, as I was not alone. My other group members, my friends, were just as nervous as I was, and also just as excited. It made it easier to stand on that stage and perform, knowing that while I was technically the one who led the group, I had four members behind me who felt the same way I felt.

Later on, I got to debut in different parts of the business. As a producer, a composer, a model, all of which were much more independent and a bit more of a struggle to overcome, simply because I had to rely on my own abilities to make a good impression with the fans. I can even add writer, after this book, something far different from anything I’ve ever tried to accomplish outside of lyrics and compositions. But regardless of my experience in any of these fields, I have always tried to do my best in any of these debuts, tried to take it as an opportunity to show another side of myself.

But not all of my debuts were business related. Some were more personal, and much harder to predict how the fans would take it.

Like in the second year of ROVIX, when I ‘debuted’ myself as a gay man, and pulled Lee Jaehwan right along with me.

The result was as you would expect. There had been suspicion right from the start as to my ual orientation, and when I admitted to it, well, it felt like everything blew up. Some reactions were positive, while others were much harder to swallow. But I had Park Hyosin sajangnim’s support, my parents’, Jaehwan’s, my members’ and our manager’s, and my friends’, and to this day, it still makes me emotional to think about all of those people who stood by me at such a crucial moment in my life.

For the time that followed wouldn’t be easy, and had I had no one by my side, I wouldn’t have made it.

-

September marked the third month of his autobiography, and the month that he was introduced to Song Kyungil.

A praised author, Kyungil was famous for his way with words, and the current holder of two nominees and wins for Book of the Year since his debut eight years ago. He had had a hand in the editing of a few autobiographies, and it was that which led to Taekwoon contacting him, after he realised how immersed Wonshik had gotten in his book.

To be fair, Wonshik hadn’t expected to actually spend much time doing any sort of thing for the book before he scrapped it; getting back at Jaehwan wasn’t that important – or, at least, he could find less time-consuming ways around it than writing a book that he had little to no interest in.

That, however, had changed. The hours he’d spent on the book in the first month could be counted on his hands, but the next two would require quite a few additional fingers to add up with the time he’d spent poring over books on writing a captivating autobiography and analyses, his own notes and attempts at actual writing strewn all over his desk.

He had come to enjoy the process, taking steps away from his life, himself, to evaluate the events leading up to now, the person he had become as a result of choices he had made and the people he had met. His life, in places, was a chaos of doubts and bouts of anger – others, tranquil periods of joy and contentment.

For this book, he was looking inwards, at himself; his thoughts, emotions, everything that made him Kim Wonshik, and at the world around him. It was refreshing, exhilarating, and slightly frightening. Never before had he evaluated himself like this, and he would be writing some of his innermost thoughts down on paper, to be printed and sold in bookstores for strangers to buy and read.

Taekwoon had arranged a meeting for Wonshik and Kyungil to be formally introduced and discuss Wonshik’s aspirations with his book. At the meeting’s end, Wonshik and Kyungil had come to an agreement that entailed Kyungil’s assistance in the coming months until its release. Wonshik had no experience with writing a book, unlike Kyungil, so he was grateful for the help he’d receive.

And with that, his autobiography had officially become more than just a ploy for revenge.