It’s safe to say that after two years of serving at country-side outposts for the Korean army and being lightyears away from any sort of media attention, I’m not exactly used to the flash of cameras anymore. In fact, the bright lights are going off so much that my eyes begin to tear up from my incessant blinking. Conscious of my face like I haven’t had to be for years, I paste on a bright smile, the old mask sliding back on so easily that I can’t believe I’d ever forgotten it. The walk into SM Entertainment’s large press room is filled with calls to me and my members by both reporters and fans. The masses of people gathered aren’t just a coincidence; our company has called a press conference and Shinee is the highlight. My members take their places around me on each side as we sit onstage while our oldest manager goes to the podium at the front of the room and faces the eager reporters. He begins tell them about how we as Shinee are taking time to pursue our personal interests and schedules, so our comeback will be indefinitely delayed. The other members are looking on with polite interest but I can’t pretend that the words are anything more than background noise to me. Because in essence, he’s telling a lie. As our manager’s spiel ends, the reporters begin asking questions but I can’t help but think about the real reason why we’re here.

 Unlike most groups, the members of Shinee and I had decided to go into the army together. We were as close as brothers, and the thought of each of us going to the army separately didn’t sit well with us. We also thought it would be better for the fans since they wouldn’t need to keep waiting for the next few years for us to come back as a group. What we hadn’t expected was to be separated like we all were. In fact, we had barely seen each other over the last two years, our group time limited to one day holidays. We had each been stationed in different parts of the country, and while none of us had been to active duty, going to the army had changed us in subtle ways. But maybe I had been the one to change the most.

I felt especially bad for KiBum who had finally married Aliah during the end of our second year of service. In all his messages to me, he had confessed to how much he missed her and how excited he was to finally finish his time. I had to admit that there was a part of me that was jealous. KiBum had what I had always wanted desperately; someone who loved him. I knew that my thoughts were entirely selfish. KiBum had mainly been raised by his grandmother and when she had died, he’d lost his smile. He had never been too close to his parents and even with the other members, he’d no one to really rely on. Aliah had given him what he’d needed and he was happier than I’d ever seen him. I hadn’t ever had that problem; my own mother and sister were more than loving, more than a person could ever want. But it wasn’t the same as having someone to be with on an intimate level and I felt myself becoming more and more lonely as the years passed. And that loneliness had become even more apparent as I did my stint in the military.

While I had been on the base, I didn’t have the access to proper equipment for composing nor much of an inclination to write lyrics. Being a songwriter had been such a big part of my life that it had been a shock to everyone that I hadn’t written a single word in almost two years. But SM hadn’t complained; instead they had given me a few months to get some songs together for our comeback album. And though I had gotten started on the actual music, lyrics still escaped me. I had never been without ideas, but for the first time I had absolutely nothing. My mind went blank whenever I tried to imagine what I wanted to say. At first I had been angry and frustrated, but after those feelings had passed, I’d just been scared. I didn’t want my feelings to be permanent and as time passed I could only believe that they might be.

It had been our own manager who had suggested asking SM for a personal hiatus from Shinee and promotions. The other members had jumped right back in the game, with JinKi and MinHo starring in new dramas, KiBum starting a new musical as well as launching his own fashion line. TaeMin had taken over hosting Music Bank and was one of the most popular hosts to date. Everyone had something going on, but I was stuck. I needed to leave Korea and find my music again. So we had called this conference to announce to the world that Shinee would be dropping out of the spotlight for a while. It didn’t matter to me so much where I would go, only that I needed desperately to get away.

I guess I had one thing to be grateful to the Korean army for; it had given me the opportunity to learn English. I had never truly wanted to learn before beyond using it in my songs. But long hours spent with nothing to do on an army base camp will lead you to make all kinds of crazy decisions. The base had a small library and inside were tapes on the English language that I had listened to daily. Along with the recordings, a fellow solider had been an exchange student in America and had come back to Korea to serve his military service. He had helped me to perfect my pronunciation and somehow I had gained something close to fluency. With this new skill, it was easy to decide where I should go to keep some form of anonymity outside of Asia. New York was where people went in order to go after their dreams of becoming a singer. I would go and see if I could find what I had lost. I could only hope that my isolation would bring the music I loved so dearly back.

I had taken many precautions in coming to New York, namely in not telling anyone but my family, my members and my manager where I was going. Keeping the fans out of the loop had been difficult, but they had accepted my retreat from entertainment rather well, probably because the rest of Shinee was still quite active and in the public eye. The brownstone building where I now lived was located in Brooklyn, a good seven miles from the Koreatown area where I was somewhat sure I’d be recognized and had promptly decided to stay away from. There was one thing I hadn’t been able to give up though and that was dying my hair back to the platinum blonde that had been my favorite color for years. Unable to dye my hair in the army, the usually black color of my hair had started to grate on my nerves. Now that I was blonde again, I felt more like myself.

The weather in New York had quickly turned from summer into an early fall, and a crisp cool breeze was a now constant undercurrent to the mild warmth in the air. The sudden change had made me throw on an oversized sweatshirt boasting a large dog on the front. This blue and red combo was a gift from Key out of his collection and paired with my usual black ripped jeans, I felt comfortable in the chill. I now stood in front of my hallway mirror, and fluffed the pale strands of my bangs. The slightly platform sneakers that I favored rested in the foyer of my home and I slipped them on as I left the house, my height going up at least inch. I placed the black Ray Bans sunglasses on my face and smiled, content that no one would pay me any attention in this bustling borough of seven thousand. 

My neighborhood was in an up and coming area and construction was taking place on every sidewalk, workers rebuilding the façades and excavating the insides of the old homes and restoring them to their former glory. I always made it a point to walk past, curious to see the changes as each brownstone was finished. I popped in my headphones leisurely, the calming voices of Eddy Kim and Ra. D bringing me a little piece of home as I walked the foreign streets. The walk into downtown usually didn't take me longer than ten minutes and before I knew it, the sounds of the metropolitan area surrounded me. The tall buildings on each side interspersed with shops and restaurants of every kind put me in mind of Seoul and I felt a pang of longing fill my chest. I had been away from my family for almost two months now, but my writer’s block had persisted with no end in sight. I was frustrated but I wasn't ready to give up.

It was close to six in the evening when I finally left the local library, having spent a peaceful day among the libraries' storage of music files. The smooth sounds of America's jazz music had infused my being and filled my creative mind to the brim. The piano, guitar and almighty sax filtered through my conscious and replayed in melodies that seemed to lift me up into a higher place. But composing was never a problem for me, there was inspiration everywhere; it had even been at the army base. But what I would I say, what would capture my fans, make them feel what I felt and experience something altogether new?

I had been all over downtown but there were always new things to see and as I left the library, I stumbled upon an out of the way coffee shop, one of those places that seemed to be built out of a hole in the wall. Immediately intrigued, I walked inside and smiled at the free Wi-Fi sign. A few hours here in this melancholic place would do my heart good. I ordered a flat white and sipped my drink as I watched uplinks of my members’ activities on Naver, feeling closer to home than I had in a while. 

It hadn't been my intention to stay at the small shop for more than an hour or two but before I knew it, a waiter was tapping me on the shoulder and saying that they were closing for the night. As I apologized, I took in the three paper cups on my table, and glanced at my watch. It was ten minutes after twelve and suddenly I had to pee with an urgency. After using the bathroom, the waiter ushered me out and locked the door behind me.

Now that night had settled, the once simply cool breeze had gone straight to cold and each time the wind blew past the buildings, I felt the chill go right through me. I picked up my pace, adopting that hunched over gait that most people had within the city. I had just made my way past Atlantic Ave, close to my own Brooklyn Heights where my brownstone was located. Though New York claimed to be the city that never slept, this area was dark except for the occasional streetlamp lighting the way.

I had been out on the streets almost every night since I'd come to Brooklyn, visiting different clubs and sites even playing piano at various local bars. But this was the first time the streets were empty like this and the quiet was both unusual and slightly unsettling. I took a left turn onto the next block, wanting to take a faster route to my house, eager to be inside. I was thinking of a nice bath and maybe lighting some candles before bed, when without warning I was knocked straight into a wall.

My shoulder took the full impact with a loud smack, and the shock of it ran through the rest of my arm, making it go numb. Hands pulled at my clothes, searching and pulling out my phone and the cash in my pockets. I pushed my mugger back, throwing one punch and then another to the guy’s head. He staggered and fell to the ground but it was my mistake to think that he was alone. A tall figure emerged out of the darkness, wrapping his arm around my neck in a choke hold. Spots swam in my vision as I gasped for breath, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the arm that was cutting off my air supply. The first mugger yelled at the one holding but I couldn't translate the English anymore, my brain felt too foggy. I fought against the deadly grasp but I'd never been much of a fighter. Before long I'd run out of breath and I out just as my assailant finally let go and fled into the night.

Whoa! First chapter done, even though it's like almost two in the morning. I hope you guys enjoy and please Comment, Subscribe, and Upvote for more updates. Tell me how you like the story so far and what you liked about it. I love reading your comments! Love you guys <3