“What are you doing here?” Junsu looked up grumpily and Jaejoong opened the door to one of the soundproof, swish recording studios. Aside from Junsu, it was empty, and just comfortable enough to fit a small group of people. He glanced in awe at the technology, having no idea how to function any of the levers and buttons. Yet that wasn’t what he was here for.

“To make sure you don’t wallow in your own misery,” Jaejoong grinned at the boy. He was a sight to see: pouting, with sullen eyes and the azure crown of bright hair; the last didn’t suit his current mood, but Jaejoong was determined to put a smile back onto the man’s face again. They hadn’t known one another long, but it was uncomfortable seeing Junsu so cheerless.

“I’m ruined,” Junsu released a defeated, dramatic sigh and leaned back in the chair he was currently seated at. “I just denounced the heir of a major entertainment company in front of the entire cafeteria. Everyone’s going to hear about it. And this is only our first day!”

“Well, what do you usually do to cheer yourself up?”

“Get my hair done, drink a sweet frappuccino with double whipped cream.”

“I don’t have any of those on hand at the moment,” Jaejoong chuckled, leaning against the wall, his eyes moving across the sound system curiously. “What else?”

Junsu paused and glanced up at him with a small frown. “Well, I sing.”

“Let’s do that then! How about something from Shinhwa?”

Junsu wrinkled his nose. “Please, what generation is this? It’s all about Super Junior. A ballad from Kyuhyun.”

“I don’t know him…”

“Of course you don’t. You’re an alien. Come on, we’ll sing one of my favourites. It’s a ballad of his… Bread, Love and Dreams. I’ve got the lyrics here somewhere…” Junsu fiddled around with his phone and handed it over to Jaejoong. “Not that I need them. Just listen to me and then try to join in.”

Jaejoong nodded, glancing over the lyrics and immediately feeling warmed by them. The song was full of hope and he wondered why he had only stuck to older singers rather than venture out and explore more. Junsu played around with the sound system, sliding levers up and down, twisting knobs until at last he appeared satisfied.

“How do you know how to work all of this?”

“My mum’s a soloist, remember? She’s shown me the ropes. Besides, she let me go into recordings with her sometimes when I was a kid and the adjusshi always let me mess around. I grew up around music.”

Jaejoong wondered what it would be like, to be as certain about everything as Junsu was about his passion for music. Even with a scholarship, he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to make it in the music industry, hadn’t even considered singing anything but a hobby. He was supposed to be a farmer. He knew farming techniques like Junsu knew his way around the studio. Just watching the man prepare, the stress and anxiety that had formed darkness over his face was already easing away. And then he began to sing.

Junsu’s voice was sweet, high and it was as if the notes had been especially written for him. His voice took over the room, filling every corner and drawing Jaejoong’s attention in. Even his appearance seemed to change as he sang; he became more attractive, his round face warm and almost cherub-like. The tune filled the room, the lyrics gentle and Jaejoong found himself joining in, easily fitting in around Junsu’s to harmonize. Before long, the song ended, their last lyrics drawn out their eyes meeting, bright and full of smiles.

“That was… no wonder they scouted you,” Junsu said excitedly. “Your voice is – we sound good together.”

A blush found its way across Jaejoong’s face although Junsu’s excitement was infectious. “Are you feeling better now?” he asked.

“Much,” Junsu moved away from the sound equipment and linked arms with Jaejoong, beaming. “But I’ll feel even better after that frappuccino. Come on! We still have time before the next class.”

*

It was easy to get along with Junsu. They shared a number of classes, including dance (which Jaejoong was not looking forward to). Thankfully, that class wasn’t today, and so he went home after singing class in good spirits. After changing into a fresh set of clothes and running a brush through his hair, he made his way to the restaurant Junsu had recommended, armed with a CV in hand he’d printed off from the campus library, and his best smile.

The restaurant, Le Petit Jardin, served French cuisine. Jaejoong had no experience cooking anything that wasn’t traditionally Korean, but the owner, a tall, broad shouldered man with a neatly trimmed beard and wire-framed glasses, agreed to give him a trial. The front of the restaurant was tastily clad, with clear, full length windows and spools of golden light filling the round, ardent room. The red carpet offered the business an air of quality Jaejoong had never seen before back in his farming village, and freshly pressed linen, along with silver cutlery, was arranged tediously on varnished tables, with a set of lilies decorating each one in crystal vases. He felt out of place, and was glad to know that he wouldn’t be at front of the house. Junsu was also working a shift that night, and was dressed neatly in the uniform tux, offering Jaejoong a thumbs-up for good luck.

Even so, he was glad to abandon the luxury and put on the white apron over his own clothes that the sous chef handed him. For the full four hour shift, he didn’t go near any of the food and was tasked to washing dishes and filling sauce pots. The evening was so busy that he barely realised his shift was over until Junsu came in, dumping his share of tips in front of him.

“That’s a lot,” Jaejoong peered into the cellophane bag, impressed.

“Tipping might not be standard in Korea, but our guests reserve tables up to a week in advance. They expect the best standards, and they pay for it,” the sous chef approached him with a smile and a nudge. “I’m Kris,” he added. He was tall, with bleached blonde hair and sharp features that didn’t look kind, but weren’t entirely cold, either. They warmed dully when he smiled.

“Jaejoong.”

“They only tip because Ge’s food is the best,” a lanky, dark-haired youth with an angular face and dark, sharp eyes appeared, his ears bright with multiple piercings.

“Ge?” Jaejoong frowned.

“Brother,” Junsu explained, cutting in immediately. “Tao and Kris are both from China. When he has free time, Tao and I have a language exchange.” Junsu reached over to ruf