The cool air of the evening softly whipped across their faces as Minho rode down throught he dark, lit-up streets of their hometown, with Taemin comfortably yet awkwardly seated in the basket at the front with his legs dangling out and freely swaying back and forth, even going as far as to direct his brother sometimes as only he was aware of the desired location.     "While you are in my presence," Taemin says, looking up at his brother. "Are you not concerned over the matter of our relationship being discovered by others whom we may be familiar with from the constructed building which we receieve knowledge in?"     Basically, that could be translated in to 'Don't you care if people from school see you with me? Because they'll ask questions about us then'. But Minho couldn't really care any less right now. "It's too late to worry about that now since I'm already outside with you." Minho answers with a shrug. And to be honest, the thought of him being seen with the school's outcast--who they weren't aware happened to be his younger brother--hadn't crossed his mind.     Of course, until now.     "I have already conducted a search for concious life-forms and presences and my findings came up negative." Taemin fluently explains, reassuring the rider. "So it is highly probable that at this time now and at this current location, you and I will not be seen by any other homosapiens within the town's population."     "Great, but of course." Minho replies, his eyes rolling slightly in the direction he turns the bike. "Because who in their right mind would take a bike ride at this time of night when they could be studying or sleeping or watching tv?"
  Taemin didn't answer him. And if he had then he would've spoken in his genuis, alien-like language that Minho would've interpreted as something to argue against his idea of how teenagers spent their nights. If they weren't outside then Taemin would probably be sticking coloured pins on to his alien sightings map and Minho would be doing his homework or lazily napping on the couch with the TV on until his little brother came by to bother him again for something absurd.     Minho still had no idea what he was doing.     But whatever was going on, he knew that he couldn't let Taemin go through it alone.                                 The ride to the location isn't nearly as weird as the way Taemin let's Minho know that they've arrived, and that's by thrasing about in the basket and kicking his legs about--a foot nearly stabbing itself in his brother's ribs. But luckily, Minho decodes the message and they stop and set the bike down on a big hill that overlooks a lake that's nearly as wide as the ocean, the full moon in the sky being reflected off the gently swaying waves brightly.     It looks too peaceful to be real, like the quietness in their life after their mother died.     Minho watches his brother scurry out of the basket and run closer towards the edge of the pathway--barefoot. "Yah, couldn't you find time to put shoes on?!"     “Shoes only act as a barrier and block out all the signals that the brain transfers to my feet.”     “…What?”     “I could trip and fall over.”     “Huh?..." To Minho, it's the most ridiculous thing he's heard. So he scoffs in the way a big-brother would when about to mock his younger sibling, amusingy. "I wouldn't be surprised if you trip and fall over even without shoes because you have the worst sense of balance ever!"     Taemin said nothing and took out the torch he brought along with him. Then, he held it up at the moon and turned it on and off repeatedly for a few moments.     “What the heck are you doing?”     “Aliens use light to send and receive messages at night, so there’s no other way to contact them at this time.”     “Okay…”     Then Taemin grabbed his polaroid camera and started snapping pictures of the sky and the moon, and then--randomly--took several more photos of the area in every and any direction from left and right to behind.     “Now what are you doing?” Minho asks, groaning.     “Aliens possess the ability to change parts of this world to assist with their deception against the human race, but camera lens’s are able to penetrate through the changes and present the original conditions via printed forms.”     “…Right.” Minho had to learn to stop asking otherwise he'd only get an even bigger headache. So far, all he could make sense of was that his younger brother wanted to play 'barefoot photographer' to raise his chances of meeting an alien. "And I don't suppose that your sandwhich has something to do with contacting aliens as well, right?"     “Negative." Taemin says, his peanut-butter and jelly sandwich in hand. "My stomach requires nourishment to sustain its natural energy levels.”     'Right, natural...' Minho thinks to himself as he sits down on the hill and looks up at the night sky while his brother does what he has to before they return back to their appartments. 'It's funny how Taemin uses that word when nothing about him is natural. But I guess that's just the way he is now because of....'     They both knew the reason but it only hurt them more to say it aloud. But Taemin's reaction to it and the way he handles it is completey different and unexpected of someone so young. But hey, as long as he isn't crying and having a breakdown like most people would've thought then there's a chance that he'll be alright in the end.     “My message has been received and the aliens will reply shortly." Taemin says all of a sudden, his sandwich eaten, his torch turned off and put away and his polaroid camera back to hanging around his neck.     “You’re really something, Taemin." Minho starts to say as he watches his brother sit beside him. "Even though no one understands the things you do, you don't let that stop you and you keep going. Even if what you’re trying to achieve doesn’t turn out how you want it to, that only gives you more reason to try harder than last time. You’re like a mountain, you can’t be moved unless you’re pushed so you push yourself.”     “Mountains do not have the ability to move." Taemin corrects, the warm and heart-to-heart words seemingly flying right over his head just to state that fact. "It is a metaphors to motivate and influence--"     "Yeah, alright, I got that, genius." Minho cuts in, playfully sending his fist in to the side of his brother's head to shut him up. "But seriously, you may do the weirdest stuff, and....I know that I was upset with you all those years ago for thinking that our mother had been taken by aliens and put on the moon. But the truth is that you're doing more for her than I ever do since she died, and I shouldn't be encouraging you to stop any of that just to make everyone else treat you like a normal person if it means you want to see our mother again. And also, just remember that--"     "They are contacting me at this present time." Taemin says as he stands up and walks out a bit, his concentration on the starry sky but mainly the moon watching over them.     “Huh? You mean they read your message--uh, the aliens?” Minho asks, standing as well.     “Affirmative, and I am relaying their message now.” It takes a short while, about several minutes for Taemin to read through the message he received. And that leaves his brother to silently watch in anticipation because he has no idea about what to say or do next until he's given something to work with.     Believing in aliens didn't make sense to Minho, but neither did their mother's abrupt death. And from here, he figured out that sometimes, the most important thin