Taemin POV

I can't tell if my hand is shaking or if the letters are just written in zig-zag lines. Either way, I don't like what I read.

"There hasn't even been any renovation work done! How can the rent be raised like that?" Kai takes the letter from our landlord out of my hand and sighs loudly.

With the money I now earn working for Jiwoo, I can cover the new costs. However, there is nothing left to save now. In my head I weigh up what I can do, but I don't see many options.

I could work more. If I reduce my training hours, maybe I could start working for Jiwoo as a clown now too. I'm sure she'd get a great laugh out of watching me fail to balance my work,- private and hopefully non-existent love life and fall flat on my face.

If Jiwoo doesn't have anything more for me, I could also help out Jonghyun at the café again. Maybe I'll get lucky and get a good tip from a nice I-want-nothing-in-return gentleman as a gift. I mean, there are enough millionaires in this world just dying to help out a poor waiter, aren't there? 

But working more wouldn't get me anywhere, I'd have less time to dance, and that would only mean one thing for me: Goodbye dream school. Goodbye independence and hello parents who say 'We told you so!' 'Surely your big brother can still give you a job in his company!' Don't put the fork in the toaster!'

"You know..." Kai begins to speak slowly, chasing me out of my desperate thoughts.

"...We could also..." Kai takes his smartphone in his hand and waves it lightly back and forth.

"Sell your phone?" I ask him, playing dumb. His shoulders slump and his lips form a line.

I know what he wants to pitch to me, again. He thinks that if I upload videos online of me dancing, all my problems will be solved. That I could make as much money as I wanted and finally live my dream.

But I would rather listen to JYP on continuous loop abusing the microphone with his autotune than do that.

And besides, even if I could manage to get a high number of followers, I would only be known for the one thing I want to forget.

"Taemin..." His voice sounds warm and loving.

"Don't you think it's enough that one video of me exists on the internet?" I cross my arms.

"Listen." He sure sounds in a good mood for the way I just snapped at him. He stands up and walks over to me.

"Imagine this sensational story!" He puts his arm around my shoulder, stretches out his other hand as if visualising an imaginary blackboard now.

"From underdog to overcat!" He sounds like he's reading the headline in a tabloid magazine.

"I don't think overcat is a word." I sigh.

"From the ugly duckling to the shining prince!" he reads the next invisible headline.

"Ugly?" I scoff.

"You know what I mean." He says, quite confident of his idea.

"I have to go to work now." I say before I have to listen to another of his ideas.

"Think about it!" he calls after me as I close the door.

"I really need a break!" I hear Jiwoo groan beside me.

All day we sat and worked in her office. I updated her work schedule for the next few weeks, made new appointments and blocked about 525 creeps from her Instagram dm's. I can understand being a fan. But why would you want to buy her worn socks?

"Shall we get something to eat?" I ask her as I block user @bumkeyk with a grin on my face. I'm already a little hungry too.

"Yeah, going out to eat sounds good." The smile she is wearing right now reminds me a lot of the time before my test and therefore scares me a little.

"What would you like?" But instead of answering my question she hands me her mobile phone.

"Can you please tell Minho to come here, asap!" She snaps her fingers.

"Um...Jiwoo..." But I don't get far in explaining to her that I don't want to call Minho even though I want to.  That I don't want to hear his voice even though I want to. That I don't want to see him today even though I want to.

"Tell him to bring a pair of swimming shorts." She calls after me as she disappears from the room.

"If Minho is serious about you, he will give you all the time you need." I remind myself of Jonghyun's words.

"And if you still need time, that's perfectly okay. The right one won't push you into anything but give you the space you need." So I breathe in and out deeply.

Could Minho be that one?

There is a beeping on the other line. I have the feeling that the pounding of my heart can be heard through the receiver.

"Mother, I just liked your last tweet! Whoever that is with the weird haircut that looks like it ended up in a harvester, do you want to give him my hairdresser's number?"

But as quickly as my nervousness sprouted, it subsided again. Once again I realise what a close relationship Minho and Jiwoo have. I'm not directly envious of it, but it is nice to see that parents can also accept their children, completely as they are without criticising them.

"Mother?" I hear a confused Minho on the other end of the line and wake up from my stupor.

"Um...well..." I clear my throat awkwardly.

"Taemin?"

Is it my imagination or did his voice change abruptly when he said my name? It no longer sounds cheerful and sweet but dark and smoky.

I don't want to fool myself, but I have to say something and I want to get to the bottom of it.

"Hey...yes this is Taemin." I answer him quietly.

The inventor of the cordless phone has never had a crush (not that I have one) otherwise he wouldn't have removed this essent