Its almost dawn when Nichkhun, or Khun, as he is affectionately called by s, arrives at his temporary stay with his manager in tow. Its another hectic back to back flight from China to Thailand, for skin CF and charity event brandishing 2 pm, and he finally sighed a relieved sigh at the sight of real bed and privacy, as well as promising hours of sleep. Oh, yeah, he needs it badly. 

"Lets go, hyung," he smiled to his older manager, who gently patted him on the back for return. He shakes his head. 

"You go rest, Khun. You did well. I shall go to my house first, and report to the office later," Kim Min Jae, thats his name, referring to JYP ent as their office. Khun raises his eyebrows. 

"You must be dead tired too hyung, why don't you rest here for a while? Your house must be quite full and the kids will wake up soon, it must be hard to get proper sleep," 

"Well, its their presence and noisyness I miss the most, sleep can come a wee bit afterward. The warmth of a house, nothing can beat it for a man like me," Manager Kim assures his artist, "But thanks for the offer. Maybe next time," 

Khun nods, and he lifts his bag, then climbs out of his black van. 

"Till later then, hyung, " he greets his manager, and bids farewell to their company loyal driver, and heads inside of the building. A security officer welcomes him, and after showing his ID pass, lets him off to the elevator. 

The door closes, and Khun finally, really alone. He checks his phone, and smiles at Min Jun's tweet an hour ago. 

"Pabo, he must be staying very late again," he chuckles. He feels the urge to reply to that tweet, but his weariness win over him. 

Glancing over his look reflected by the metal panel of the elevator, Khun smiles warily to himself. His red jacket and white beanie, as well as black mask and baseball cap, look kind of ruggedly. Comfy though. Just as if he is an ordinary man post a casual night out with friends. Only without the reek of alcohol. Oh he forgets, ordinary man doesnt wear mask at night. 

Only idols do. Celebrities do. Famous people do. And burglars. 

'Ding!', the elevator opens to a deserted small lobby, and he walks over to a more private area in which a private elevator straight to his apartment located. He place the ID pass on the beeping panel, and it opens. Once again a short elevator ride, and he is 'home'. 

He opens a thick metal door to the apartment, and a light colored wooden entrance appears before him. Some paintings decorating the white walls, of red flowers and Aegean sea. 

"Home at laast...," Khun announces happily to himself, and he starts to put away his shoes. But something attracts his attention. Something that isn't supposed to be there. 

Its a letter. With lots of heart on it. A fan letter. 

He tightens his jaws, suddenly alarmed. He eyes his surrounding carefully, while reaching for the white enveloped letter, and slowly opening it. 

His heart sank, and he quickly dials the security, as polite as he can in his uneasy state, as he requests them to check inside his apartment. 

Another two minutes, and two burly, professional looking guards come to his aid. Together, they search for the sign of anyone inside of the apartment, but it comes out empty. 

On the coffe table, the letter reads...,

"Oppa, welcome home... , I miss you so much. You must be tired from Thailand, right? 

Lets have Thai massage, shall we?"

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Cont..