I Won't Do Bad Things (feat. Suzy) - B1A4
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJXuzZbuSCE)     ------------------------ Narrator’s P.O.V:     Weeks passed quickly, and months started to fly by. Soon, a special day had finally come.   October 15th, Zelo’s birthday.   “Let’s see… We need onions, meat, oh, and bean paste…” Hana read off the list as Daehyun hurriedly grabbed the ingredients and threw them in the cart. He looked exasperated.   “Anything else?!”   Hana flinched and gave him a weird look, “Uh, no offense, Dae, but you look jumpy.”   He heaved a sigh and ruffled his hair, “Of course I am! It’s already five, and we haven’t even started the surprise birthday dinner yet!”   Hana shrugged, “Don’t worry. Today, Lay’s cooking the whole meal. He’s a great cook, you know, as ditzy as he looks.” She stuffed a bag of lettuce into a plastic bag and tossed it at him as he put it into the cart.   “Yeah, but Junhong’s coming back in an hour from his friend’s house. Lay can’t possibly barbeque kalbi meat, make stew, rice, and a bazillion side dishes in under an hour!” He frowned in disbelief, wheeling the cart to the check out centre.   “Jongin will barbeque the meat, Dahee will help with stew, I’ll wash the rice, and you can help with the side dishes! Don’t worry about it so much. Lay’s very reliable.” Hana patted his shoulder as Daehyun rolled his eyes and placed the groceries on the table.   Ring! Hana’s cell phone started to play a tune. *Finally, her mistress calls.* She sighed inwardly and picked up the call in haste.   By accident, a petite girl bumped into her, making Hana drop her phone. A handsome boy with golden hair stood beside her, amazed but trying to look composed by everything. When she bumped into Hana, he grabbed her and kept her from falling, “Miyoung.”   Daehyun caught Hana’s arm, “Hana, you okay?”   Hana nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine, Daehyun.” She straightened up.   “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She apologized when the boy pulled her up on her feet, picking up Hana’s phone and handing it to her.   “It’s alright.” She took the phone from her with a smile as the girl smiled back at her gorgeously and bowed a bit.   “Byunghun, come on.” She tugged on the handsome boy’s arm. The boy blinked, as if trying to remember that that was his name, and hurried along with her, “Coming.”   “Whoa,” Hana blinked at their retreating figures, “He was pretty cute, and the girl was adorable.”   Daehyun crossed his arms, “He wasn’t cute.”   “Yeah he was.” She giggled, “But the guy was blonde, just like you. Are blonde guys popular as potential boyfriends now?”   Daehyun rolled his eyes as the customers in line behind the two cleared their throats in irritation. He quickly grabbed all the groceries and started putting them into bags.   Hana looked down at her phone. *Shoot, when the phone dropped, I accidentally hung up on her.*   Luckily, the phone started to ring again. This time, Hana picked it up.   “Hello?” She asked first as she pulled out her credit card and paid swiftly for everything, “Unnie?”   *Unnie?* Daehyun stole a glance at her.   “Yeah, yeah, something happened and I accidentally hung up.”   “…I sent a present to my assistant for Junhong’s birthday. She’ll be there in a few. Jongin’s at home, right? Tell him to sign the package.” Hayoung’s nonchalant voice replied as Hana’s expression turned dark.   She furrowed her eyebrows, “Muh? You mean, you’re not coming to the party?”   “I can’t. I’m in Paris with Chihoon. Apologize to him for me. I’m sure he’ll understand—ah, oui. Je pense que c’est parfait—”   Hana couldn’t believe her ears. “Unnie, listen to yourself! It’s Junhong’s birthday and you’re off in Paris shopping with your boyfriend? Wow, what a sister you are.”   “Don’t, I’m on the phone, Chihoon—Hana, what did you say?”   She had enough, “Whatever. If you can’t even bother coming, then you can take your sorry present and shove it up your—“ She took a side look at Daehyun’s stunned expression, “Never mind. Junhong won’t need your present, anyway. Have fun in Paris. Au revoir.”   Hana was fuming as she hung up on her elder sister. She took the ice cream that Daehyun was eating and popped it into , dragging him out of the store, “Come on.”   After a while, Hana had cooled off and was finishing off the tidbits of her ice cream. Daehyun took a sideways glance at her, tried to say something, but ended up shutting his mouth.   “That was my adoptive elder sister,” she replied without hesitation, “She can’t make it to the party.”   “Oh.” Daehyun saw Hana’s flat expression and decided not to pry anymore.   Since the market was so close to Hana’s house, they were there in a matter of minutes. Hana opened the door so that Daehyun could get the groceries in first, “We’re home!”   The maids bowed and greeted the both of them. The familiar figures of Dahee, Kai, and Lay came to the door as they took the bags. Kai grinned, “Hana, a special person arrived just from Spain!”   “Eh?” Hana gazed up at the staircase just as Mr. Choi was coming down, “Hana!”   Immediately, Hana’s eyes lit up, “Father!”   Mr. Choi came down and embraced his daughter like she was his own. Hana pulled away and beamed, “When did you get here?”   “Around half an hour ago. I didn’t want to miss my special son’s birthday, of course.” He chuckled, defining the creases near his eyes. His eyes caught Daehyun’s as the latter instinctively bowed, “Hello, abonim.”   “Hello, Daehyun. I trust it that you’ve been well?” He winked.   Daehyun flushed, “Y-Yes.” His squeak earned a small snort from Kai as Dahee elbowed him, telling him silently to behave.   “Alright, let’s get to work. Daehyun, I’ll need your help, please.” Lay easily took the food and led him to the kitchen. Warily, Daehyun nodded and followed after an encouraging look from Hana.   “Oh, you too, Dahee, Jongin.” He called as they shared looks and trailed behind.   When everyone was gone, Hana turned to Mr. Choi, “Father.”   “I heard,” he nodded, making Hana relax, “Hayoung’s in Paris.”   Hana embarrassedly kept her gaze low. “She said her assistant’s coming by to drop off his present.” She mumbled, “It’s Junhong’s birthday, for Pete’s sake. The least