Ro unlocks her front door, sighing. Home, she thinks with content. She pushes the white oak door open and steps in. The door shuts with a hushed click as Ro slips her steel-toed boots off. She climbs the magnificent staircase two steps at a time. Upon reaching her room, she tosses her satchel on her beanbag chair and changes out of her clothes. She swaps her dirty, ripped gray jeans, tight black tube-top, her short leather jacket, and fingerless gloves for a light gray pair of sweatpants, rolled once at the waist, and a baby pink Pink t-shirt. Ro’s black hair gets pilled up into a messy bun.

Ro makes a quick stop in the pristine kitchen for a snack before searching for her younger brother.

She finds him outside shooting hoops in the basketball court. Because they can just afford a basketball court. And a tennis court. And a pool. Her brother sees Ro as he throws the ball. It bounces off the rim.

Ro waggles her fingers and hops up on the low stone garden wall. “Annyeong, MinKi,” she greets. “Annyeong, Ro,” he replies, retrieving the basketball. He uses his pale arm to wipe away the sweat on his face. His bleached hair sticks to his forehead and neck. After the death of their mother, the two kids changed in appearance and personality drastically.

Choi Ro used to be student council president all through junior high and class president her freshmen year. She was much more devoted and serious about her business training for taking over Diamond Moon – her father’s huge jewelry and diamond industry – as well. Being two years older than MinKi (who was three months away from seventeen), Ro is the heir to this major company. She still takes training stuff seriously . . . but her heart’s no longer into it. The incident she witnessed when she was only fifteen changed her for the worst. She lost her title as class president after getting into one too many fights; her friends left her after they gave up trying to figure out how to help her; and she flip-flopped her wardrobe from light, floral colors to dark, depressing styles.

Choi MinKi was thirteen when their mom died. He had been singing since he was only four years old. When he was thirteen, he stopped. Ro hasn’t heard his amazing vocals since then. He bleached his hair and grew it out to his shoulders with bangs. His outgoing personality vanished into smoke instantly as he drew himself inward. He was the quiet kid, not speaking unless the teacher called on him. Even then his voice was depressingly monotone. After a while, the teachers gave up and let him doze away behind his blonde bangs in the back of the room since he somehow always aced his tests despite being unconscious during class. He’s frequently alone, laying on the grass a lot, just gazing up at the blue expanse of sky.

During the desolate years, Ro and MinKi became inseparable, each other’s confidants, best friends, bound by both blood and experiencing the same tragedy. Gradually, sincere people gravitated towards them, willing to help and lighten their load of pain. It was hard for those two siblings to allow anyone to come close to their sore, bloody hearts – but they managed; as long as they had each other to fall back upon and retreat to.

MinKi holds out the basketball. “What to play a game?”

“First to ten?”

“Sure.”

Ro slides off the wall and strolls down the court. MinKi meets her at the center. He’s taken off his shirt and the ball is tucked under his arm. Ro crouches down to re-tie her sneaker. But when MinKi’s eyes stray elsewhere, she shoots up and pushes the ball through her brother’s arm and races after it, dribbling it halfway across the court. MinKi is already after her, recovered from the initial shock of the sneak attack.

“Yah!” he shouts as he runs after her. “I wasn’t ready!”

“Whoops,” Ro replies, dodging around him to shoot. The ball goes through the net with ease. MinKi jogs after it and then faces Ro. He narrows his eyes and points at her. “You are about to get creamed, Noona.”

Ro grins wickedly at the challenge, heart pumping at the warm-up, and legs straining as she crouches and says, “Bring it, Dongsaeng.”

* * *

MinKi ended up winning the basketball game, much to his satisfaction and Ro’s annoyance. Ro stomps sullenly ahead of him. “You so cheated, Dongsaeng,” she grumbles, kicking off her sweaty shoes. MinKi laughs as he enters the mansion after her. “Oh, don’t be a sore loser, Ro,” he says. “I’m just better than you.”

“No, you cheated.”

“Okay, sure.”

Ro and MinKi shuffle into the kitchen to see the chefs hard at work in preparing dinner. MinKi glances at the clock. “Dinner time already?” he muses. Ro snags half a carrot as she goes through the kitchen and up the stairs. As she reaches the top, though, MinKi suddenly blows by her and rushes down the hall. By the time Ro realizes what he’s doing and chases after him, MinKi’s already rushed into the grand bathroom and locked the door behind him firmly.

Ro slams into it, aggravated. She yells, “MinKi! I was going to use this bathroom! Get. Out!” She bangs on the door twice with the last two words to emphasize her point. His reply is the blast of the shower turning on. “MinKi!”

“There are five other bathrooms, Noona.”

“Then why didn’t you let me have this one??”

“Because you weren’t in here yet. Now leave; the jets are ready.”

“Oh!” Ro growls. She stands there for another second, then stalks off. It was MY turn in there, Ro thinks. She’s not mad exactly – just annoyed at her little brother’s unfairness. She decides to go into his room to steal an article of clothing. He’ll freak, apologize, and give her his next five turns for the seven-jet shower in exchange for his clothes.

MinKi has a slight obsession with his wardrobe.

Ro goes into his room and turns on the light. Ro likes hanging out in here. It’s sort of a big room filled with a big mess – but it reflects on who MinKi was five years ago. Band posters still clutter the navy blue walls, papers and books litter the floors. MinKi’s desktop and closet are probably the only two places that are clean in this room. He loves his Apple laptop and his small trinkets that sit on his desk shelves neatly.

Ro saunters over to MinKi’s walk-in closet and pulls open the doors with a flourish. Right inside is a beaded curtain. He’s had it there since he was little and never bothered to take it down. On the floor, there’s a pile of folded clothes that MinKi deems safe for him and his sister to share.

Ro smirks and steps over it carefully, looking to delve deeper. She browses his closet as if she was in a store and finally chooses a pair of leggings that MinKi wears frequently under shorts or with a tunic. They’re black with mirrored bits and fit Ro just as well as MinKi.

(We'll use this image until I can find the picture that I have on my phone on the internet >.<)

Then she snags one of his headbands for a good measure.

As Ro shuts the closet doors, she spots something off in one of the corners of MinKi’s room. It’s an acoustic guitar leaning against the wall next to a stereo. Ro glides over, almost without meaning to, curious. She hasn’t seen that guitar in a long while.

She squats and picks up the CD case on top of the stereo. It’s blank. She turns it on its side to read the spine and her heart skips a beat.

‘Ren’.

‘Ren’ was the stage name that MinKi had come up with for himself when his dream was to become an idol.

Ro, with shaking fingers, presses ‘play’ on the stereo. She gasps as a voice filters sweetly through and her eyes water.

Will you star in the night sky after
I've bought it because I love you more
Or that you should only want to shout
Just do not leave my side Stay

While I waited in front of your house
In case you encounter on the way incase
When I see you before any talk kkeonaelkka
I met you would have to make it look like accident
While I was in love at first sight I may express
I do not know his heart pounds, without notice...

(Stars of the Night; Yang Jung Seung)

“Oh . . .” Ro gasps, tears finally falling free. She hasn’t heard MinKi’s singing voice in so long. Ro’s chest seems compressed with nostalgia and sadness. The CD spins to a stop. Ro doesn’t move.

MinKi used to record his singing before Umma died. But this song only came out last year. [A/N: I have NO idea when that song came out ^^;]. Has he been recording himself still? Ro feels a sharp, precise pang. Why hasn’t he told me? I’m his older sister; I should know this stuff, right? I’m his best friend. And how has he been able to record CDs without anyone knowing?

Ro hears the shower down the hall turning off. She snaps her head towards the door. She has a few minutes at least before MinKi comes in. Almost without comprehending what she’s doing, Ro takes out the CD (which is pink – MinKi’s favorite color), puts it in its case, and tucks it into her sweatpants.

Heart pounding, she gathers the leggings and headband, and slips out of MinKi’s room silently.