"Hyung!" a voice yelled. 

He quickly pushed me away, almost by reflex and hurt pierced through my chest. Everything I had thought about for the past six years had almost gone out the window just because he was in front of me. He was a celebrity. He couldn't be seen with me. We were on totally different levels now. I had to remember that he wasn't Yunho Oppa. He was U-Know Yunho. I wiped my eyes and took a few deep breaths. A black van had pulled up behind us and Choikang Changmin was exiting the passenger's seat and heading towards us, eyes blown with worry.

"Changmin-ah," Yunho said. He glanced at me, eyes apologetic. I turned away from his gaze.

"God, did you do this Hyung? Are you hurt? You scared the manager," Changmin said. "Who's she?" he asked.

"This is my childhood friend Jiyeon," Yunho explained.

"Tori," I corrected. "I don't go by my Korean name anymore," I said and offered my hand. "I'm a big fan of your voice, Changmin-sshi," I said.

Changmin glanced at Yunho but took my hand anyways. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from a friend of Yunho's," he replied.

"Oh no, don't misunderstand, we're hardly friends... I'm just another Cassiopeia," I corrected with a smile. 

An air of awkwardness settled and a fairly stout man shuffled over to us from the driver's seat of the black van to break it.

"Yunho! How could you just take off that way? We have to get you off the streets, just because we're overseas doesn't mean that no one will recognize you two. You too, Changmin, get back into the car right now," he ordered. "The Super Junior members had to get back to the hotel in a single car because you took off with this one! You have to be careful Yunho, if news about your reckless driving gets out, it could be really damaging to your image!" he lectured.

Yunho bowed and apologized. "Sorry, it was... urgent," he said and looked at me again.

The man finally turned to me, seeming as if he just noticed my presence, "Who's she? This is the girl you were chasing?" he asked, eyeing me up and down, wondering who was so important as to make the shining U-Know Yunho chase her down a busy street.

 "This is Jiyeon," Yunho said, emphasizing the name.

"I'm Tori, I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused," I said in Korean but said my name with an American accent. I also bowed as low as I could to properly show that I was apologetic for what had happened. 

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry we had to meet this way. I'm Kim Sangshik, TVXQ's manager. I hope you don't feel the need to confront the reporters about this incident. Of course, if you're hurt in any way we'll take care of it. Any medical needs or if you feel the need for more, that can be accomodated," the manager said and held out a business card.

I stared at the card with the SM Entertainment logo in pink at the corner of the white parchment. He was offering me, an average girl, compensation so U-Know Yunho's name wouldn't be damaged, a celebrity.

"H-Hyung, she's not like that," Yunho defended and pushed at his hand.

"Don't worry about it, I'm fine," I answered, "I'm sorry to have bothered you all. I haven't seen Yunho Oppa in a long time so there's no need for your concern. I don't plan to see him again." I saw relief on his managers face and a strangled noise  come from Yunho. "Then I'll get going. It was nice to to meet you Changmin-sshi, manager-sshi." I got back into the car and started it, but stared at Yunho when my door opened again. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Hyung, I'm going with Jiyeon," Yunho said defiantly.

"You punk, we have a flight at six in the morning!" his manager yelled.

"Hyung," Changmin warned.

"More of a reason for me to go. I'll be at the airport by then. I promise," he said and turned to me, "Get out of the car, I'm driving."

"No you're not. Go back, Oppa," I ordered sternly. He actually exited the car but rounded the front of the hood, threw my door open, gripped my wrist and pulled me out of the car, around it, and pushed me back into the passenger's seat. His stubbornness firing in his eyes. He shut the door and got in next to me. 

"Get out, Oppa. Where do you think you're going?" I said.

"Wherever you are," he replied definitively.

"U-Know," I said in the steadiest most American voice I could manage. He stared at me, wide eyed. "Get out of my car," I said in english.

I gripped the door handle when he reached over me to grab the seatbelt. Silver dangled in front of me. A simple necklace with a pendant of the letter J hung from his neck - most of the fake crystals that had covered the letter had fallen off, leaving only a circle of pigmentation to show that something had been there before. The buckle clicked in and he pulled his on before driving back onto the main road, leaving his yelling manager and confused group member behind. 

"You don't even know where to go," I said.

He clicked on the gps, navigated to my saved locations, and clicked home. 

"You can't go there," I spat.

"Then where do you want to go?" he asked just as coldly.

"Nowhere with you," I replied. He didn't reply to that and kept his eyes glaring at the road ahead of him. We we're silent from then for half an hour, almost home. 

"You're still wearing it," he said while keeping his eyes glued in front of him.

I tucked my necklace into my shirt. One of a Y that looked as battered as his pendant did.

"Why'd you do it?" 

"Do what."

"Leave."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, crossed my arms, and curled away from him. I didn't answer him until he had pulled into our driveway and killed the engine.

"Because you would have if I didn't," I whispered.

"What?" he said.

"Oppa, we trained and practiced for years. You got scouted. I didn't. You would have... You live a different life now," I said, finally looking at him.

"I'm still your Oppa," he stated firmly.

"No," I replied, "You're everyone else's oppa. Every Cassiopeia that's been with you for the last six years. Not mine."

I got out of the car and walked to my door. I heard him follow behind me.

"They're not going to like you being here," I said even as I turned the lock open with my key.

"You're parents love me," he said.

"No, they loved the neighbor's son, Jung Yunho. Not U-Know Yunho," I replied before unlocking the door and stepping in.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" my mother demanded, "DO YOU KNOW HOW WOR- oh... Yunho."

"Good evening, it's been a long time," Yunho replied politely.

She gave me a look. "Mom, it wasn't intentional. We just... Happened to run into each other. He'll be going soon," I said without looking at them, "I'm going to go shower."

I heard my mom halfheartedly  invite him into the house. And then I heard my dad walk out and have a tense conversation with Yunho. I shut my bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, sliding to the floor. Why now? After all this time, how did we manage to cross paths again? I sighed and slipped into the bathroom for a too-hot shower.

When I came back out, he was there, examining Polaroid photos that were pinned to my cork board. My voice softly played throughout the room and I walked over to my artist corner and pressed the stop button. I ignored him as I went through my drawers, picking out a pair of , sports bra, and pajama pants. I saw him stare at me in my peripheral vision. 

"Are you going to watch me change?" I asked sarcastically as I pulled my bathrobe loose and he turned back to the pictures.

[Change to Yunho's POV]

"Honey," Jiyeon's mom called into the house.

Jiyeon's father stepped out of a room and stared. "Yunho," he said.

I bowed as low as I could. "Sir," I replied.

"What are you doing here?" His expression was cold. Calculating.

"I ran into Jiyeon by chance at the concert today... And I... wanted to straighten things out," I answered.

"Straighten things out," he repeated. He sighed and motioned to the couch. "Sit," he said.

I sat and kept looking at the two of them, both staring back, unblinking. I refused to lower my gaze. It felt like I would lose something if I did.

"Look, Yunho. I'm going to be straight with you. Tori-," Jiyeon's father started.

"Jiyeon," I corrected.

He stared at me hard for a very long time before continuing. "She's decided to start going to college next year. She graduated high school last year and decided to take a break. She was accepted into New York University but deferred it for a year. She's finally given up the idea of becoming a singer. And it's taken us a long time to convince her to go down a more favorable path," he said.

"But Jiyeon's talent and passion is in singing," I stated.

"Yes, but it is not a wise decision to go into such an industry," he replied.

"Such an industry? I work in that industry," I retorted as respectfully as possible.

"Yes, and you've succeeded in becoming the singer you've always dreamed of. But Tori-"

"Jiyeon."

"She's a girl. There are many rookies debuting nowadays. And none of them are getting the attention that they used to in the past. Especially the girl groups. I don't want her to live a life away from us with only a few hours of sleep a night for only that. She'll never be free to do as she pleases if she's constantly being watched by people either."

"But she's not free forcing herself to do something she doesn't want to do."

"Tori's made her decision."

"With all due respect, sir, it just seems that she's given into your decision."

We stared at each other for long minutes. He sighed and said, "It's late. You may use the guest room tonight but I expect you'll be gone by morning."

"Thank you sir," I said and got up to go up the stairs after Jiyeon.

"Oh and Yunho," he called. I looked over at them. "We would appreciate if you distance yourself from her. You're no longer the neighbor's son and she's no longer a child. You're twenty-six and she's nineteen. She's too young and you're too popular. Keep that in mind."

"I will sir."

"And after tonight," he said, "please stay away from Jiyeon."

I stared and proceeded up the steps. Why was everyone insisting on calling Jiyeon as Tori? I knew she was trying to push me away with her cold attitude but I wouldn't let it affect me. I had finally found her. Her face was almost the same as when she was thirteen. That same baby face with big brown eyes and naturally blushed round cheeks. But she had grown into a woman. Not the same child who held my hand years ago when crossing streets. She was still extremely petite - almost fragile looking. But her strong will still remained. I couldn't let her go. Not again. 

I stepped into the only room with a light on and immediately knew it was hers. Bookshelves filled with CDs lined the room. I ran my fingers over them - they ranged in genre from Super Junior's pop to Park Hyo Shin's ballads. Jealousy flared inside me as I searched for my own. I found them at the bottom shelf. Every album, single, and repackaged album were standing neatly against each other in chronological order of their release. And next to those were every concert DVDs and dramas I had starred in. My heart clenched when I pulled out one of our old Japanese albums and I saw the Jaejoong, Yoochun, and Junsu's pictures next to mine and Changmin's. They had left too, feeling betrayed. The feeling was mutual. I shoved the CD back into it's slot and circled the room.

A mic and recording machines were stuffed in a corner of the room, a layer of dust turning the black plastic into a gray. I pressed play subconsciously and closed my eyes at the sound of Jiyeon's voice coming from the speakers. A cover of December's Tears of Heaven. Her range had improved, but still struggling to hit the highest notes - something that could be fixed with the right coaching. Her pitch was almost perfect. I left the music to play as I circled the room.

I came across a cork board of photos and trinkets. I looked at every Polaroid, trying to piece together the part of her life I had missed. I almost growled at the pictures of guys crowding around her to be in the picture. She had never really hung out with girls even as a child, preferring to go play in the lakes with the neighbor's boys rather than play with tea sets. There was a picture of what I assumed was her graduation photo. She looked stunning with her head turned up and smiling with a turquoise array of feathers surrounding her shoulders. I unpinned it and slipped it into my wallet, hoping she wouldn't notice. Tickets to concerts in San Francisco were pinned into the board. She had seen the Wondergirls and 2AM. I wondered if she still preferred guy groups over girls. I was jerked out of my thoughts when the music stopped playing and a door shut.

I looked at her, hair wet and tousled, as she moved around the room for clothes. 

"Are you going to watch me change?" she shot coldly. 

I debated whether I should leave the room but opted to just turn back to the pictures, afraid that she wouldn't let me back inside if I left now. I glanced at a small mirror on the small bookshelf underneath where the cork board was nailed into the wall. If I moved to the right, I could see the top half of her, her back turned to me. I held my breath as I saw her slip off her robe and expose her skin - still so pale. Her dark hair dripped rivulets of water down her back and I watched, mesmerized. I caught myself trying to tiptoe to get a better look at her bottom half and blushed before looking away from the mirror. She was a childhood friend. Her father's words echoed in my head, "You're no longer the neighbor's son and she's no longer a child. You're twenty-six and she's nineteen. She's too young and you're too popualr. Keep that in mind." She was definitely not a child anymore, I thought as I looked back at the mirror. She had pulled on a purple sports bra, probably because I was here but she didn't want to wear an actual bra to bed but didn't want to be bear in a thin shirt either. I looked at the curve of her hips coming from a tiny waist that my fingers itched to touch. My jeans felt tight all of a sudden.

"I'm done," she whispered.

I let out an unconvincing noise of surprise before turning and looking at her front. Her s were small, probably still an A-cup but fit her body and made her look as desirable as a girl with a C-cup. Her stomach was toned and I wondered if she still danced. She had on a white plaid pair of pajama pants that hooked on her hips. I wondered if she had ever thought of me as more than an oppa the last six years. A large part of me hoped so. I stepped into her personal space, forcing her to look up at me. She only came up to my chest. Probably a little less of a foot of difference in height. She smelled fresh of a fruity shampoo - maybe a body wash. I willed my stubborn to go down and decided to distract myself. She took a quick intake of breath when I reached past her for the towel draped on the bed and pressed it to her wet hair.

"You'll catch a cold if you don't dry your hair," I whispered.

"I'll be fine," she said just as quietly. 

I touched her shoulder and she turned to face the bed, allowing me to get better access to her hair. After I had patted it to dampness, I placed the towel back on the bed. She didn't move so neither did I. I watched as a drop of water slid from behind her ear, down her neck, and settle on her shoulder, in what felt like slow motion. So much for calming down my . She lifted her hand to wipe at it when I caught her wrist, moved her hair to the side, and leaned down to the trail back to her ear that the water drop had made. She whipped around and pushed me away. I stumbled back and manage to catch myself on her bookshelf. There was an expression on her face that I had never seen there before. It was one of hurt, betrayal, and something that I looked like hope. 

"Jiyeon, I'm sorry," I sputtered.

"Get out," she whispered.

"Jiyeon," I repeated.

"GET OUT!" she yelled. 

I stared at her for a long second before turning and leaving the room. What was I doing? I screwed up the one chance I had at fixing things. Why would I do that to her? She was like a little sister! WAS like a little sister, part of me insisted. She was a woman now. No longer the thirteen year old child that trailed after you. I sighed in frustration and entered the room I was to stay in. A tank top, pajama pants, and a new pair of boxers in its packaging was sitting on the bed. I sighed and took them into the bathroom for a long shower.