Junho couldn’t help being nervous as he walked up to the dark red building in Itaewon. The sign above the door said ‘No Love Entertainment’ in beautiful shimmering font. When Wooyoung had informed him that his superiors had reviewed – and very much liked – Junho’s audition tape, the company was quick to set up a meeting.

  It’s really happening. He thought, standing in front of the door before finally pushing it open and stepping foot inside.

  The place was amazing.

  Everything looked state of the art, all decorated in ruby red and chrome. A young woman at the front desk greeted him immediately with a bright smile. “Welcome, do you have an appointment today?”

  “Um, y-yeah . . . My name is Lee Junho,” He said timidly. “I’m here to see Mr. Kim.”

  After typing something into her computer, the woman looked back at him and motioned to their left. “MinJun will see you now, Yugyeom will show you the way.”

  He hadn’t even noticed there was another person standing beside him until a soft voice spoke. “Right this way, Mr. Lee . . .” Junho turned to see an impossibly young looking man wearing an all-black suit that fit his body perfectly. “We mustn’t keep MinJun waiting.” There was a deviant kind of sense to that smirk that made Junho’s nerves start to crawl up his throat, stopping him from speaking and simply nodding as he followed the man named Yugyeom down the hallway.

  “You’re cute, you should fit in well,” Yugyeom said bluntly before amending. “As long as you’ve got talent.” They stepped onto an elevator and went to the top floor, and once the doors opened it was as if the building was completely different. Everything on this floor was jet black. As Yugyeom led them through one last set of doors, Junho looked around the office they were standing in, his eyes finally resting on the man sitting at the desk in the center of the room.

  “I’ll leave you two.” Yugyeom excused himself with a bow, closing the door after him.

  Junho looked at the man he knew to be Kim MinJun, one of the most popular producers currently in Seoul. “Hello Mr. Kim, my name is Lee Junho.” He bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

  He was met with a sultry looking smirk as the other man looked him up and down, his eyes finally lingering on Junho’s. “Call me ‘Mr. Kim’ again, and I will personally you off the premises.”

  Junho flinched, his anxiety level skyrocketing instantly, and having nowhere to look but right back at the producer who was staring him down equally. “S-Sorry.” Junho muttered.

  A short scoff came from the man before him and MinJun waved his hand. “I’m joking, kid!” That smirk was back on MinJun’s lips and he finally stood up, walking around his desk and looking at Junho up closely. “You need to lighten up.” MinJun placed his hands on his shoulders and Junho’s eyes went wide at the sudden contact. They were still practically strangers, after all. “In this business, it’s easy to take things too seriously . . . But you can’t forget the one reason why we’re all here . . .” Junho stared at the single finger MinJun held up as he put extra emphasis on the word ‘one’. “Everyone in this building loves music.”

  MinJun walked around him, and Junho just froze, not knowing what to do or say.

  “Whether you become some famous celebrity, or whether you end up a recording musician . . . At this company, it’s up to you. But if you’re passionate – which, judging from your video, I’m sure you are – you’ve got a job. Not some office job where the CEO doesn’t even know you exist. Not some regular hours, with a lunch break at midday. I don’t do slave contracts, and I’m not gonna force you to film commercials or go on some stupid TV show, either. If that’s what you seek, then do it, but none of that has to do with the main objective.” MinJun went on. “From this day on, Junho . . . Your job is music. Creating it, perfecting it, performing it, becoming it . . .”

  Junho stood, taken aback at the speech he was given and feeling the uneasiness slowly dissipating the more he listened to the man next to him. MinJun was unlike any other producer he had ever met. An excited kind of energy filled him, bubbling out in a broad smile as he bowed again. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my very best.”

MinJun had hope for this new guy. I’ll have to thank Wooyoung, somehow. He thought silently to himself as he leaned back in his chair. The deal he got the new kid to sign standard, all intellectual property would remain under the artist’s ownership with a flat rate deducted from album sales for utilizing the studio and his business. No hidden costs, no worrying about what people do in their free time, he didn’t want to manage the artists every waking moment.

  He just wanted people to make music, and share it with the world.

  No music, no life, no love.

  Such a simple concept.

  Just then, the phone on his desk ran and MinJun did his best to stifle his impulsive smile the second he recognized the extension number 211. A little too eagerly, perhaps, MinJun cleared his throat and picked up the phone, answering in his smoothest voice. “What can I do for ya’ baby boy?”

  The person on the other end of the phone snorted. “You told me to call you at noon.”

  Did he? Yes, he remembered that he most certainly did request this person to call him. Closing his eyes at his own infuriating antics, he thought of a quick way to make it seem like he actually had a reason for instructing such a request. However, he wasn’t quick enough, since that person spoke before him.

  “Why don’t you just ask me to have lunch with you, Hyung?”

  He would never do that.

  “Yah!” MinJun snapped. “If I buy you lunch, then everyone will be runnin’ up to me beggin’ for food an’ it’d just be too annoying. I ain’t a soup kitchen!” He tried to play it off as if that was the real reason why he couldn’t bring himself to actually ask the other man out on a date. But they both knew it was false.

  “Come down to the studio, I’m almost done wrapping up with Yerin. I’ll buy lunch.” The deep voice spoke in an commanding tone that had MinJun raising his eyebrow as the phone hung up and he was left listening to the dial tone.

  He shouldn’t have been shocked, this was normal.

  Well, it wasn’t exactly normal since MinJun usually didn’t allow his employees to boss him around. But conversations between this particular employee and himself were usually exactly like that. In a bit of a daze, MinJun lifted himself from his leather office chair, straightened out his suit and headed out of his office, grumbling the entire way.

  Who did this guy think he was?

  After a quick elevator ride down to the next floor under his, he stalked down the hall to the main recording studio, before he could reach for the door, it opened and a soft, cheerful voice met him. “Wow, you’re amazing~” Cheered a bubbly looking girl as she walked out of the studio, her gaze focused on the tall male behind her instead of where she was going, thus, running directly into MinJun’s chest. “Oh,” Yerin looked up at him with a flushed face. “M-MinJun oppa!”

  “I’m not your oppa.” MinJun said emotionlessly, sighing after a moment and stepping back to let the young girl through. “Please, don’t let me stop you. Have a nice day, Yerin.” He tried to sound more kind, reminding himself about other peoples feelings and what not.

  Yerin looked back at the tall guy who had left the studio with her and waved before glancing at him again, bowing. “I’ll leave first.”

  Once the girl was gone, MinJun looked at the hunky body leaning against the open door. Today he was wearing a simple t-shirt, that hugged the muscles on his chest perfectly. MinJun realised that his staring did not go unnoticed and looked up immediately, into the big deceptively doe like eyes of the larger man. “Hyung, you shouldn’t scare the poor girl like that.”

  MinJun rolled his eyes. “Don’t start stickin’ up for her because she flirts with you.”

  The other male grinned. “She’s not my type.”

  Why did those lips fluster him so much? Not just this person’s lips, but the sound of their voice, the short stubble that grew around their masculine chin, the way their ruffled mop of hair looked so disheveled, as if they hadn’t even attempted anything with it today. All in all, this guy was everything Kim MinJun despised about lazy people and yet, he remained so unbearably attractive that it kept MinJun on his toes with the tall brute.

  “You’re staring again.” The other said to him.

  In a huff, MinJun stormed away towards the elevator, knowing that the other would follow. “Get over it!”

Chansung sat across from his boss in the middle of the bbq joint the two of them had taken to frequenting regularly. MinJun had expensive taste, which he could appreciate, but this place was somewhat of a dive compared to the more extravagant places the prestigious producer Jun.K usually stepped foot in. It was a happy medium between the two of their lifestyles.

  They met at an AA meeting, nearly six months ago.

  Over the last couple years, Chansung’s life had taken such drastic turns. Some for the worse, but mostly, for the better. After he was arrested ‒ which he willingly would admit was not the greatest highlight of his life ‒ through so many hours of community service and mandatory sobriety meetings, he eventually met the man responsible for changing him the most.

  MinJun gave him a job, as well as something nobody else ever had before; understand. The man had an unyielding need to fix everyone he became close with. Unfortunately, that was the very reason the sly man wound up a fellow alcoholic in the first place.

  “Hyung,” He said the single word and MinJun’s eyes were locked with his. “You’re fidgeting.” Chansung watched as the older man looked away in a sigh, he watched the man attempt to shake away whatever it was that was eating away inside of him. He recognized the struggle oh too well.

  Following MinJun’s gaze, he saw it instantly.

  That bottle of soju that was sitting on the edge of the table next to theirs, leftover from the previous party. MinJun’s leg was shaking. “You don’t want it.”

  The elder returned his piercing gaze at him before his eyes softened. “You ain’t really in no position to be teachin’ me lessons, boy.”

  Chansung smiled at the slight accent that came through in MinJun’s frustrated voice, that distinct gyeongsang dialect the wellkept man always tried so hard to drown out. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

 “Shut up.” MinJun half growled, half mumbled. Chansung smirked. As if suddenly remembering something, the smaller man grinned wide. “I forgot to tell you, we signed a new artist this morning ‒ a real cutie ‒ an’ he’s got mad pipes.” The elder leaned back in his chair, that same smirk on his face whenever the producer was really excited about a new project. “I can’t wait to get him in the studio.”

  “What’s his name?” Chansung casually asked, stirring his straw around his beverage.

  “Lee Junho,” MinJun said, pulling out his cellphone and showing a picture of the smiling face Chansung knew so well. “His name even sounds like an idol!”

  He felt a pit in his stomach, his insides turning in such a way that he couldn’t even look at the man in front of him. Chansung had known, for quite some time, that one day he would have to face this.

  But he wasn’t ready, not yet.

  Not to see that person again.

  Not to confront his mistakes again.

  Noticing the look on his face, MinJun cocked his head to the side. “What, do you know him?”

  Chansung looked up at MinJun, tense and apprehensive but now was not the time to start keeping secrets from the man before him. “He’s my ex.”

  Understanding fell over the other’s face, and MinJun just set his phone down with a slow nod. Chansung didn’t have to explain, he already told the older man everything that had happened between him and Junho. Looking down in shame, he heard the man in front of him cluck his tongue.

  “Yah~” MinJun whined. “Don’t look like that.” Warm hands were suddenly reaching out towards his. “You are not defined by the mistakes you made in a moment of darkness.”

  There was so much that he wanted in that moment. To lean over and kiss those pillowy lips that spoke so gently to him, even though he was completely undeserving. To close his eyes and blink away the past into oblivion, where he would never have to even think about anything except the slender hand that held his. But, more prominently, he wanted to believe that he was capable of being worthy enough to be loved by someone like this.

  Someone like MinJun.

To be continued