He moved with grace and poise that belied his hidden discomfort. This should be Minghao’s world but it wasn’t. He hadn’t been at an event like this in his whole career. He smiled and answered questions from pretty people with money and a whim to drink Jeonghan’s fine wine and redecorate but had minimal knowledge of art.

His clothes, borrowed of course, were well fitted and looked the part. His hair was neat and his face was handsome and his limbs were long and his figure lean. In this world of beautiful people, long stemmed champagne glass in hand, Minghao blended. He camouflaged like a chameleon becoming what people wanted, expected, of a talented artist. This was the image he was supposed to have.

None of the people here had seen the incredible highs and darkest lows of his life. They didn’t know there was more to him than the tall and handsome painter, walking like an exotic foreign model amongst them, master of aesthetic and appearance. They didn’t know and they didn’t want to know. Jeonghan paraded him in front of groups of people who murmured rich compliments on his work and Minghao smiled and played his part and silently hoped they would spend their easy money on his hard work.

To his relief they did. Three paintings at two thousand each was going to really help ease the pressure. Minghao was already daydreaming, thinking about the amount of rent he could pay in advance, his mind warm from champagne when Jeonghan appeared by his side with a short woman next to him. She was elfin and beautiful, all long dark hair and big eyes, delicate features pinched into a small cute button nose that had to be the work of one of Korea’s best plastic surgeons.

“Minghao, this is Minsoo, she’s been dying to meet you all night. We went to business school together.” Jeonghan slipped discreetly backwards as Min Soo moved a little closer and held her hand out. It was fine and soft, the ends of her fingers tipped with a tasteful pink polish; they were hands that had never done a hard day’s work in their life. “Hi,” she demurred as Minghao shook her hand and smiled. “Your art is just so incredible that I had to insist Jeonghan introduce us.”

After another glass of champagne, it was obvious it wasn’t his art she was interested in.

It had been a long time since someone paid attention like this. Minsoo was fun and flirty and witty. Her eyes sparkled as brightly as her diamond jewellery under the warm gallery lights as she laughed at Minghao’s mediocre attempts at humour. When she giggled she had this habit of grabbing his arm gently and it felt warm through the silk blend of Minghao’s borrowed shirt. He found out that her parents were real estate tycoons and she was in charge of her own branch in the expensive district of Seoul that Minghao was too poor to even drive through.

As she chattered and flirted he thought absentmindedly about how false all this seemed, her nose and her lips, her laugh and her interest, her mannerisms and her manners.

The four glasses of champagne he’d had told him to enjoy it.

Eventually he stepped outside, alone and tipsy, his head ablaze with the need to leave. To breathe some fresh air and take his shoes off and lay down and get some rest. To let his body process the alcohol out of his system. He waved down a cab and relaxed onto the backseat as he drove through the city to his little home and wondered what waited for him.

Would Yun be crying? Would the house be a disaster? Would everything be okay? Minghao sighed aloud as he checked his watch and realised he had to be back at the gallery for work at 9am. At least it was only a half day. He should have arranged for Jisoo and Seokmin to come to his house, it would be a lot easier on him, but then he remembered the mess and shuddered. Jisoo and Seokmin were the ultimate neat freaks. Seokmin was obsessive with his cleaning and Jisoo liked to organise as a hobby ever since he got into Marie Kondo. He just couldn’t be bothered even thinking about it.

He was glad to see the cab drive away. He straightened his shirt and pulled a small mint from his pocket just in case Yun was still awake. It was likely he wasn’t but Minghao still didn’t want to smell like alcohol when he walked in.

Everything seemed quiet, calm, almost like the calm before the storm. Although he felt like he was standing in the eye, not knowing which way to turn, Minghao knew he couldn’t just stand still and wait for it all to fall down around him. He reached out and turned the doorknob and opened the door and was greeted with warmth and a strangely delicious scent.

“Hi,” he said when he walked in to find Junhui seated on the couch playing a game on his phone. “Hi,” Junhui said as he quickly scrambled to stand and Minghao walked towards him. “Was everything okay?” Minghao asked as he looked around suspiciously. Everything looked different, neater somehow, as if a little hurricane had blown through and somehow righted everything that was wrong.

“Everything was fine. Yun is just a joy to be around.” The glow on Junhui’s face was a little suspicious to Minghao and the champagne in his belly was egging him on to say so. He reached up and rubbed a hand across his red nose and decided not to. Yun was cute, sure, and he had his cute moments but an evening with the boy being referred to as a joy was suspicious. Feeding, bathing, and settling an overactive and overtired four year old was exhausting.

“We had our dinner and then he had his bath, he wanted to wear the dinosaur onesie from his cupboard, I wasn’t sure if it was too warm but he insisted.” Junhui smiled so warmly as he spoke and began to move around collecting his things from the coffee table. “We had some stories and tidied his things up and he went to bed no problems.” Minghao scowled a little. Why was Junhui just so casual, describing the regular evening tempest as nothing more than a series of minor events? Had it really been so easy for him?

“Did he eat his dinner?” Minghao followed Junhui from the living area to the front door. “Yes, I hope you don’t mind, we went to the corner grocery instead and picked up some beef and vegetables. There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry and I put the change from the money on the kitchen bench.”

Minghao didn’t know what to say so he just stared. “Okay, that’s fine, well thank you again.” “You’re welcome.” Junhui replied but stood in the open doorway as if he was waiting for more to be said. Minghao was tipsy enough to struggle but sober enough to feel the heavy awkwardness in the air between them and he cleared his throat and rubbed his nose again. “Okay, well goodbye,” he said and Junhui blinked at him a few times before backing out of the doorway. “Okay, bye.”

As soon as he was down the garden path Minghao closed the door and finally felt like he could breathe. He wished he could pinpoint what exactly it was that scared him so much about Junhui; was it the man’s intimidating good looks, his soft warm charisma?

Was it simply his apparent competence and control?

He sighed heavily and walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There, neatly plated up in one of his dishes, was a big bowl of what looked like beef and broccoli on a bed of fluffy white rice. Minghao’s stomach rumbled with the emptiness of champagne and canapés as he stared at the plate in his hands. He imagined the man moving around his kitchen like he belonged there, chopping and frying and boiling, Yun watching on with curiosity and diligence. He was starving and he put it in the microwave and poured himself a glass of wine while he waited for it to heat up. He felt suddenly sober and knew in this state he’d never sleep and, checking his watch, realised he’d have to have both himself and Yun up and dressed and out the door in about eight hours.

He carried the steaming plate of food over to the coffee table and inhaled the rich smell of soy and ginger. The vegetables were such a vibrant shade of green, broccoli cut artfully into evenly small pieces, the top scattered with bright green spring onions and sesame seeds, the strips of beef mouth-wateringly thin and dark with sauce.

Minghao set it down and leaned back and took a long sip of his wine before tears filled his eyes. He didn’t even know what it was. Maybe it was the easy competence of the meal in front of him, maybe it was just too many changes all at once, maybe it was the constant feeling of his life being just one event from spiralling out of control.

Minghao sniffed and pulled his composure together before picking up the chopsticks and taking a bite of the beef. It was as delicious as he expected.