Minho’s POV

I trudged through the serene silence in the black of the night, kicking a small lonely rock with mighty force, attempting to expel all of my bitter resentment into that tiny chunk of stone. The poor rock never saw it coming. If it’s any consolation for the sad rock family, the death of the baby boulder did nothing to relieve the heavy weight threatening to crush my fragile heart.

I wandered the dark, deserted streets aimlessly, recalling the events of the day, hoping that a solution to my increasingly problematic (as well as nonexistent) love life would simply fall from the sky like rain and deliver upon me an epiphany nearly as elusive as the meaning of life.

“He’s so handsome, so charismatic, charming, and funny.” They say. “Of course his life is perfect.” If only they knew how very far from the truth their assumptions are. Calculate the distance between Pluto and the Sun for a reference. To start off with, I had an unhealthy love/lust/obsession with someone I should be a brother to. I am not sure when I started to love him, or when my feelings changed from brotherly, as they should be, to something more dangerous and much more terrifying.

Perhaps it was the way his face lights up when he drinks banana milk. Or maybe it was how he concentrates so intently and gets lost in the music when he dances. Mayhap it was his childlike face which brought out my protective side. Or perhaps, it was because we needed each other to survive this topsy-turvy world of showbiz. Then, the cunning, snakelike voice in the back of my mind hissed: Maybe it’s because you wish he loved you as you love him.

I exhaled sharply, running my hands through my fluffy brown locks in exasperation. I fleetingly thought of the days during the Ring Ding Dong era when I had my long hair, wanting it to reappear momentarily so I could pull my hair and scream my woe to the world.

Remembering my long hair of course caused me to think of him again, with his ridiculously long extensions for Sherlock. I laughed out loud at the thought, but my laughter sounded dull and hollow, lacking emotion, even to my own ears. I recalled how I made fun of him when I saw them, though I’d promised not to.

He slunk out of the hair and makeup room, dreading the reaction he knew his hyungs would give him and his new extensions. “Don’t. Say. A. Word.” He growled through gritted teeth. I said nothing, though not because I didn’t want to. My lack of speech was caused by my lack of the ability to gulp in enough air to make fun of him as I could hardly breathe due to my gut-busting laughter.

After I’d recovered enough to gasp out a few words, I said exactly the thing I knew he’d hate the most. “Maknae, you look like a girl!” The maknae in question glared daggers at me while simultaneously punching me in arm with surprising force. “A very pretty girl!” I hastily added, not wanting to get in a fistfight with my band mate. The younger male, being the cocky bastard he is, grinned at me and posed cutely in response. “Of course I am hyung~” He sauntered away, swinging his hips more seductively than any girl I’d ever seen, leaving me staring after him in a state of shock.

A sad smile ghosted across my lips as I relived the memory before my expression returned its former state of anguish. Next to my hideous countenance, The Scream would have been a more comely sight. I tried to block out the memories of him, of us, knowing that I had no right to think such thoughts anymore. Not that I ever did have any such rights. I let out a bitter bark of a laugh. The more I fought the wave of memories threatening to wash over me, the harder the memories pushed back, surging powerfully into every dark, forgotten crevice of my mind in mere seconds. I remember pieces of memories, all mushed together, as if someone had taken an old film strip and cut-and-pasted random images in a chaotic order.

He turned, as if in slow motion, smiling brilliantly at me, looking like a spokesperson for some toothpaste commercial. He was running to envelop me in a tight hug. Just before he reached me, the scene changed.

We all held hands, waiting anxiously for the CEO’s announcement. “Choi Minho, Lee Jinki, Kim Kibum, Lee Taemin, Kim Jonghyun.” He paused, leaving us breathless. “Congratulations. You will all be debuting together, as SHINee.” We all jumped up in glee, high fiving like crazy and screaming at inappropriate decibels. That was the first and only time I’ve ever seen him cry. Even though I knew they were tears of joy, I wanted to wipe them away. I reached towards his angelic face to do so, only to be ripped out of this beautiful memory and into another one.

He twirled and spun on the stage, seemingly unaware of his surroundings as he danced. He was in his element, the one place he didn’t have to hide his feelings or his talent. As an idol, one becomes very introverted while at the same time becoming more outgoing. Our maknae was the perfect example of this. He wouldn’t talk much at first on the radio and television shows SHINee appeared on, but he forced himself to come out of his shell. He still had to keep his true emotions locked up tight though, for fear of the whole world discovering his innermost secrets. Normal people would have cracked under the pressure, but not him. He released every single bottled-up emotion, just poured it out on-stage for everyone to see.  Only, they could not understand it the way I did. They did not realize the deeper meanings behind his every frown, smile, tear, and laugh.

The flood of memories and feelings I had thought remained buried deep in the cold recesses of my mind had burst forth, enraged and demanding to be heard. As caught up in myself as I was, I failed to take note of the approaching figure swathed in darkness. That is, until I ran into aforementioned figure.

“Yah! Watch where you’re-” I hesitated for a second, peering closely at the face in front of me. “Taemin, is that you?” I inquired, surprised to find him out roaming the streets at this time of night.

“Minho-hyung? What are you doing out here so late?” The soft angelic voice questioned.

Knowing that answering truthfully would carve out my own death sentence, I responded ambiguously. “Me? You’re the maknae…” I enjoyed teasing him.

True to his maknae label, Taemin stuck his tongue out at me. “Mehrong!” He taunted.

“Clearly you’ve been around Jong too much. You’re getting less mature rather than more mature. Aren’t you supposed to be an adult now?” I punched his arm playfully.

The insolent little brat shouted “I’m still more mature than you!” before sticking his tongue out at me once again and dashing past me, feeling the need to slap my as he ran by.

“Why you little…” I muttered under my breath. “YAH! Maknae! You better run!” I hollered as I chased him. I don’t know why he even bothered trying to run away…obviously a track star with legs like mine would end his feeble attempts at escape in quick order. And catch him I did.

I tackled him to the ground, pinning his arms down with my hands and immobilizing his body by sitting on his thighs and chest. I grinned triumphantly. “Surrender while you still can!”

The dancing machine under me replied with a y diva face and a haughty, “Not a chance.” Hn. Must’ve learned that one from Key. I wasn’t planning on letting him up until he admitted defeat. But then my throbbed unexpectedly and I realized the extreme proximity of our crotches. I swiftly leapt into a standing position, ing out a hand to help pull him back to his feet.  I didn’t want to let go of my exquisite angel, holding his hand perhaps a bit longer than absolutely necessary. The warm electricity I felt whenever we touched was like a drug to me; the more I got, the more I wanted, the more I needed.

We spotted the swing set nearby and walked over to it, relaxing after our bout of exercise. We sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, until I broke it, curiosity getting the better of me. “So, what were you doing out so late anyway?” I asked the maknae.

“Oh, um…I kind of got into a disagreement with the other hyungs…” That statement in and of itself was odd, but even more strange was the was Taemin’s hands curled into fists at the mention of the spat. Though he may seem quiet and shy, which he generally is, when angered, the dancing machine shows his terrifying bestial side.  

“Changmalyo?” I queried, genuinely interested now.

“Ne.” was his only response.

“Wae?” I probed. “What happened?” I wonder if…no, that ridiculous. He just met her today.

“They told me that I’m not allowed to see her in public anymore.” He said, half dejectedly and half annoyed.

Damn. It is about that girl. I decided to play dumb, just to be sure. “Who?”

He gave me a look, are you really that stupid, hyung? “Sun Hi, of course. Pabo, have you not been paying any attention to anything that’s happened today?” I smacked him, less gently this time for the pabo remark.

“Yah, hyung! That’s so mean…how could you hurt a sad little boy like me?” Taemin pouted, turning up his aegyo to full blast. DAMMIT. I couldn’t resist it, and he knew it. I frowned at my lack of self-control, then smiled and ruffled his hair. I noted how soft it felt, desiring nothing more than to bury my head in those tousled chocolate waves and let out all of my feelings for him. I fought the urge, suppressing it, but only just.

“Aigoo, haven’t you outgrown that yet?” I resumed teasing him. After all, it was one of my favorite pastimes. The statuesque beauty before me beamed at me, melting my heart a little, before stating, “Once a maknae, always a maknae.”

“Guess you can’t go out drinking anymore then, Mr. Maknae.” I replied, sticking my tongue out at him this time.

“Humph.” He huffed, pouting again. “Fine. I’ll stop being all cute and adorable and start acting all mature and responsible and boring.”

“Aish, so sensitive.” I poked his arm to emphasize my point. “You don’t feel so squishy anymore, so why are you acting so soft?” I asked, giving the appearance of teasing him, though on the inside, I was marveling at how the scrawny little boy I’d met so many years ago had become so well-muscled.

“Yah! Mind your own business, Choi MEANho!” Taemin pouted yet again, sticking his tongue out at me for the third time tonight.

I chuckled, amused by both his pun and his immaturity before continuing our earlier conversation. “So back to the reason you’re wandering about late at night…”

The happy expression slide off of his face like hot wax dripping from a candle. “Basically, they told me that I couldn’t be with Sun Hi…I don’t know why it bothers me so much…after all, I’ve only known the girl for a day.”

Smiling sadly, I whispered, more to myself than to the boy. “I do…” He loved her. That much was obvious. Glaringly so to me, who knows him better perhaps than his own family.

“Eh?” It seems that he’d heard my mumbling.

I quickly faked a small smile. “Nothing.” I jumped off the swing, covering the few feet to him in but one large stride of my long legs. I grabbed his hands, lifting him off of the swing. “C’mon. Let’s go home, Taemin-ah.”

A/N: Holy Krisus! That has to be the longest chapter I’ve ever written in my life. 2,000 words!!! ^o^ But I’m very happy with it ^^ I hope you are too! Let me know in the comments below~ Also, I apologize for making you all wait so long for me to update. I had a ton of school and social stuff to do, especially with midterms and everything, but I’m back now! Yay! ^.^ Feel free to message me on my tumblr (iamthedazzlinggirl.tumblr.com) because I love to talk! Bye for now~