.

Having slept through his alarm Kibum is hastily hustling himself out of bed. With no time to shower, he then heads straight for his closet to toss on a pair of oversized grey sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt. 

It’s a damn fortune he only has practice on his agenda. Counting out the dress rehearsal scheduled for the evening. But he’s certain he’ll be able to squeeze in a shower before it. 

Lastly, he gets hold of a black puffer jacket and a plain black Nike baseball cap to hide his unstyled hair before he rushes out of the room. 

He’s mentally cursing his roommate and best friend for keeping him up halfway through the night, yapping about his most recent break-up and downing their entire stash of rice wine, which had been their only alcohol on hand. 

At what point in time had they even thought to buy it? And for what purpose? Certainly not for drowning their sorrows a few days before an important performance. 

“Yah Lee Taemin!”

Knowing that calling his name isn’t going to be enough, Kibum bursts into his room to personally drag his hungover out of bed. 

“Come on, we’re going to be late because of you!” 

Although living under the same roof is a relatively new establishment, it’s one they have both grown accustomed to with ease. It’s a cheaper option to live alone and convenient as best friends signed under the same entertainment label. 

Their close friendship dates back to university, which feels like such a distant memory. Now they are both graduates of performing arts. Trained in acting, vocal, and dance— the latter being one they both thrive in— and would all too often find themselves working on the same projects. 

On the subway Kibum’s finally able to exhale in relief. Most seats are occupied so he’s cramped in one corner of the car with his back against the wall and arms crossed. That’s when his eyes gravitate towards his troublesome friend, standing a mere meter to his left. Partly out of boredom. Partly out of bewilderment at his utterly confounding outfit choice. 

The obnoxiously bright red Gucci track pants he was wearing had turned heads left and right on their frantic run from the apartment to the station. And Kibum can do nothing but frown at his choice of pairing them with a black and white striped shirt, a light wash jeans jacket, and on top, a navy blue Balenciaga bomber jacket about to slide off his shoulders. On his head, he’s also wearing a large, plain black beret to hide a messy bundle of bright ash blonde hair underneath. 

Taemin eventually meets his best friend’s persistent ogling with a brow raised in question. “What?” 

“What’s the point of wearing so many layers if you’re not even going to button them up properly? And it’s almost December, why are you so adamant about wearing those damn slippers every day?”

Last, but perhaps most confounding, Kibum is referring to the black leather Gucci slippers on Taemin’s bare feet. 

“But they have fur on them?” Taemin’s response earns him an exasperated eye roll.

Both of them sporting high-end clothing and accessories from sponsoring brands is not uncommon, but Taemin is far too often clueless when it comes to actually styling them. 

“I should give you an amateur lesson when it comes to fashion.”

“Aren’t you wearing sweatpants right now hyung?”

Kibum’s annoyed stare quickly shifts into a firm glare at the sight of Taemin’s smug grin.

When Taemin slides into the practice room he does so by showing off his flawless footwork in a gracious spin. Bursting with energy as if he hadn't been passed out and drooling in bed less than an hour ago. Meanwhile, Kibum’s fighting a caffeine-deprived headache and an urge to co