“Are we really doing this?” Xiumin whispered with a nervous glance around the dimly-lit corridor. It was seven in the morning and Baekhyun had summoned the lot of them to headquarters.

Baekhyun let out a grunt, teeth clamped over a piece of masking tape. “Of course,” he ground out after securing the poster to the wall. “This is a ing war, soldier.”

“Plus it’s a little too late to change our minds since we’ve printed the posters already,” Lay added mildly. He nodded to the stack of papers in D.O.’s hands, which all depicted a bespectacled ten-year-old Chanyeol with a ferret cradled in his arms. The words ‘Lord of the Ferrets’ were printed across the top in bold and across the bottom in italics was the slogan one yeol to rule them all. The kid had even managed to photoshop in a few of Chanyeol’s brethren along the sides and Lay had to suppress a smile each time he looked to closely.

D.O. passed a poster to Lay and muttered, “You know, he’s probably going to kill us when he sees this.”

“Don’t worry, we have Tao.” They all turned to stare at the maknae, who was sprawled on the tiled floor, panda eyes shut in blissful slumber. “Well, I’m sure he’ll come to our rescue once he’s awake.”

At half-past eight, the shuffling of feet and the chatter of idols and staff members began filling the hallways. Stifling a yawn, Lay planted himself on the floor by the mirrors and stretched as he waited for the showdown. Finally, the sound of footsteps sounded from outside the dance studio and the door burst open.  

“Byun Baekhyun!”

Chanyeol stood in the doorway, eyes livid beneath his messy bangs. A poster was balled in his fist and his glare was borderline murderous. He stomped towards Baekhyun but stopped in his tracks when Tao stepped forward, the warning evident in his dark eyes. Lay straightened, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. Confrontations were always entertaining, especially when fellow members were involved.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning,” Baekhyun quipped. Chanyeol glowered at him, lips twisted in anger but made no move. Everyone, including Chanyeol, knew that taking on their resident kungfu panda was beyond stupid.

“The Ferret Friendship Club is a sacred order,” Chanyeol said, seething, “and those who mock it will burn in hell.”

“Sacred my .” Baekhyun snorted with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, your ferret adventures are all over the Internet anyway.”

“I could say the same about your stupid pre-debut dance covers.”

“Which my noonas may never have seen if it weren’t for you.”

Chanyeol let out a frustrated squawk before whipping his phone out of his pocket. “That’s it, I give up. There’s really no point trying to reason with you. Hey, Chen? It’s time to release the Kraken.” A cheery “roger that!” sounds from the receiver and Chanyeol smirked.

“Oh .” Lay jumped to his feet and hurried over to Baekhyun. Tugging on Baekhyun’s sleeve, he said in a low voice, “Listen, I know you want to win and all but you should probably beg for forgiveness right now. Trust me, if Chen’s in on this-” 

He was cut off by a series of beeps and pings. Everyone’s phones had gone off simultaneously and Chanyeol hooted with laughter as he looked as his screen. Lay quickly retrieved his own vibrating phone from his pocket.

It was a mass e-mail from Baekhyun with the subject line “Invitation”. The recipient list was a mile long and included almost every artist in the company.

~*~

You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of

Byun Baekhyun

and

Bodymate® Body Pillow (Taeyeon version)

on the twenty-fifth of May

at three o’clock

Dance Studio 1, Gangnam-gu Ahpgujung-2dong 521

~*~

Lay quickly looked up from his phone when Baekhyun released a cry of despair and launched himself at Chanyeol, small fists attacking at lightning speed. They somehow ended up on the wood floor and become such a furious mess of flying limbs that even Tao backed away to a safe distance. Perhaps it was all the anger fueling his bloodlust, but Baekhyun managed to land a few punches and a kick to Chanyeol’s groin before the studio door burst open.

“What the hell is going on?” Kris roared over the commotion, eyes flashing. He stalked forward and manhandled the two apart. Chanyeol visibly winced as he was dragged backward by his hoodie and thrown to the side. Grasping a still-struggling Baekhyun by the collar, Kris glared murderously at the both of them.

Baekhyun pointed at a doubled-over Chanyeol. “It’s all his fault,” he cried accusingly. “My life is ruined because of this ing piece of-”

“My fault?” Chanyeol spluttered. “You were the one who started it with your goddamn posters and-”

“Shut up, the both of you,” Kris ordered. “Your little spat has gone on long enough. Now sit down.” With some grumbling, Chanyeol and Baekhyun did as they were told. “And hold hands.” Kris stared them down until they grudgingly scooted closer and grasped the other’s fingers.

“The two of you are to sit here until you reconcile,” Suho instructed. “We’re a team, remember, and we have to work in peace and harmony.” 

Kris folded his arms across his chest, his stern face a clear indication that his take-no- mode had been activated. “And you’re not allowed to let go until you solve whatever problem you had with each other. Suho, get me my bag.” Suho nodded in understanding and the room fell silent as Kris stuck his free hand in his backpack, no doubt rummaging for an instrument of torture. “Now hold out your hands.”

After a moment of hesitation, Baekhyun and Chanyeol both raised their clasped hands. Before either of them could protest, Kris bent and clamped a pair of handcuffs over their wrists. The metal chain jingled as Chanyeol tugged experimentally on the cuff. His eyes widened when he remained bound to Baekhyun.

“Holy , it’s the real deal.” Chanyeol’s voice held a mix of awe and dread.

“What if we need to use the washroom?” Baekhyun asked, voice rising in panic.

“Just go together.” It was evident from Kris’s tone that his terms were non-negotiable but Baekhyun was famous for his stubbornness.

“No way! I am not going to stand beside him while he takes a piss. Have you seen the way he splashes?”

“And I’m not going to wait around for half an hour for him to primp in front of the mirror,” Chanyeol piped up. “C’mon, duizhang, we get the message so just unlock the goddamn thing already.”

Kris shook his head, ignoring their pleading looks. “If you don’t sort things out, I swear to god I will march you before every single person in this building. Do you really want to become the laughingstock of ten-year-old trainees?”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol slowly shook their heads. The two proceeded to spend the rest of the morning sitting sullenly in the corner of the studio while the rest of the band went through the choreography. After half an hour, Lay glanced over and found Chanyeol engaged in a mostly one-sided conversation with the ever-stubborn Baekhyun. In the grand scheme of things, Baekhyun had taken more of the damage and his dark looks were probably justified. Even if Chen’s clever little e-mail had ended up in Taeyeon’s junk folder, there was no question that she would soon become aware of his affections.

Speaking of which.

“The photo was a nice touch,” Lay said when Chen sidled over to ask for help with a dance move. “You know, the one at the end of the wedding invitation.”

“Thanks," Chen replied. "I snuck into Baekhyun’s room last night to scout out material and caught him drooling on his Taeyeon pillow. Kodak moment.” Lay felt a small pang of guilt for spending his evening on Zephyrus’s latest chapter update instead of taking preemptive measures for Baekhyun’s sake. But it was a moot point, now that the great war was over.

Lay poked at Chen’s outstretched arm until it was at the perfect angle. “But how the hell did you hack into Baekhyun’s e-mail account?”

“The security questions were a breeze,” Chen answered with a cheeky grin. “I just typed in ‘Taeyeon’ for each one and voila!”

“He’s lucky that bank accounts only take numbers for passcodes,” Lay mused as he tucked Chen’s elbow against his ribs.

The Cheshire grin on Chen’s lips widened. “He was dumb enough to use her birthday, can you believe it?”

“Seriously? How long have you known?”

“Since before his birthday at the beginning of the month. I’m still waiting for him to check his credit card bill and realize that the SNSD wall calendar I got him came out of his own pocket.”

“Well let’s hope it’s later rather than sooner. I don’t imagine he’s very happy with the little stunt you pulled, even if Chanyeol was the one that gave the order...”

Chen shrugged, shaking out his arms as he unfroze from the pose. “It doesn’t matter because he still owes me for that time in L.A. when I traded rooms with him. He got to sleep right next door to Taeyeon with only a wall between them, so I’d say he’s eternally in my debt.”

---

Crime and Punishment

| Posted on May 26, 2012  | 10:47 pm |

I really have to hand it to C for orchestrating a brilliant stage full of drama, unexpected plot twists and many laughs. Who knew the kid had it in him to wreak this much havoc? And thanks to Lord DZ’s decree and a bit of assistance from Secretary S, our dorm has reverted to its previous state of peace. In spite of his stubborn nature and penchant for (over)dramatics, BH is a mushy marshmallow when it comes to CY. It seems that everything has been forgiven, if not forgotten, and both have relocated back to their shared bedroom. The mood has been high since mid-afternoon and with BH off his hands, D has found the time to cook a delicious meal for twenty-four (because T literally has the appetite of a small army).

I’m sorry to say that this will be my final post of the month. DZ has informed us that we’ll be banned from using the Internet on our trip to the Motherland because we need to “focus on advancing our career”. Perhaps it’s a good thing that DZ was able to end the war today, because glares are much less effective over webcam and S certainly can’t be trusted to handle unruly children on his own. The lack of success on S’s part may be due to the fact that he is a follower of the new age of parenting leadership where disagreements are resolved with a lecture. Yet, given DZ’s impeccable track record, one cannot help but think that the good old days of brute force and public humiliation may be better after all. 

 

Tags: handcuffs of shame

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