When 20 minutes had passed and Jonghyun was still nowhere in sight, Kibum decided his limit had been reached. Even should Jonghyun have some urgent business he had to wrap up before popping by, it ought not have taken so long because Tiffany did say that he would be ‘coming over in just a second’. Besides, having to wait 20 minutes meant that Kibum had the time to reread the article 17 times over and by the end of forcing himself to read that trashy article with no editorial merit whatsoever that many rounds had made Kibum’s hands itch with the need to throttle a particularly dumb Deputy Communications Director.

With a clipped sentence, Kibum informed Jessica to his whereabouts (Jonghyun’s office) for the next 15 minutes as he swept out of his place and stepped through the White House halls bristling with barely contained irritation. One would have thought only a junior aide would make such a ridiculous and foolish mistake—to forget all inhibitions in a foreign land? That was only possible for people who did not interact with the President of the free world on a daily basis. After all, the moment when you become a co-producer of the President’s public speeches and trusted advisor to his domestic policies, it meant you had forfeited all rights to a private lifetime and you better not do foolish actions even if you happen to be overseas unless you wish for it to come nipping at your hours later. It’s a highly connected world Kibum was living in, and he thought Jonghyun would at least have the smarts to recognize that, given the fact that he was after all, the Deputy Communications Director.

Apparently not so. Or perhaps eating China food and drinking China water had burned a hole in Jonghyun’s brain making him lose all sense of logic. That seemed highly probable, given the ‘sensitive constitution’ Jonghyun had. A night out partying always left him a useless wreck the day after. If only he would at least stop by his house and clean up before reporting to work, Kibum might not have to smack him so often.

Of course, there was also the possibility of Jonghyun being led astray by parties who had less than innocent motives. After all, Lee Onew was there too. And while it was great and all the two were getting along like a house on fire, Kibum personally had some reservations about the two’s relationship.

It was uncommon, if not unheard of, for a member of a political party to be so close to a media man. And by close, Kibum meant genuinely ‘I want to be your best friend forever’ kind of close, not the usual mercenary relationships that could be found a dime a dozen among the sharks roaming the political ocean. And truth to be told, with what he heard from the rumour mills about Lee Onew (it’s not that Lee Onew had a terrible reputation as a conniving man. But rather, the sparkly clean image he had, albeit with a few blips here and there by the occasional wild speculations, most of them so ridiculous that a serious man would not give them a passing consideration before dismissing them that made Kibum suspicious. The shinier the exterior, the more rotten the interior. Wasn’t there a saying that goes along such lines?) Kibum sometimes wondered if Jonghyun wasn’t just being played. He wouldn’t put it past a reporter to resort to such underhanded methods.

Still, Kibum found himself thinking as he rounded the corner towards the area in which Communications were located, none of these excused Jonghyun from the blame he so richly deserved for allowing such an idiotic photo to be taken. It wasn’t even particularly compromising, but it had the obligatory drunken ert and pretty semi- Asian lady (and man) that ensured that the photo would most probably be published a few more times (perhaps even earning itself an even more prominent position) before everything died down.

And to add fuel to fire, this just had to happen when Kibum wanted the whole news cycle to himself. When the administration was still celebrating its hard-won victory, this idiotic slip-up, that would have hardly been news-worthy if not for the fact the man in question was Jonghyun, who so happened to be the Deputy Communications Director, had to crop up and hijack the precious column space and airtime that Kibum so badly wanted for his 100,000 new teachers. This just had to happen.

And it was all Jonghyun’s fault, no doubt about that.

Kibum was pleased to find his sentiments echoed as he approached Jonghyun’s office. Hyori was already in it, and even though the door was closed and the words muffled, Kibum could make a fair guess what with Jonghyun’s slouched shoulders and Hyori’s akimbo arms that Jonghyun was getting the lecture (and scolding) he deserved.

Now, to join the fray. Kibum knocked twice on the door sharply and let himself in before waiting for a response from the other side.

“Jonghyun, you ing idiot,” were the first words out of Kibum’s mouth.

Jonghyun looked up with a crestfallen expression.

Hyori smiled grimly.

-

“And you know what they had me to do later, you know what they had me to do later?” Jonghyun paused to gulp down a mouthful of murky brown liquid. Without waiting for a response form the other party he had directed the question to, he continued in a distraught tone, wiping a careless hand across his mouth to rid it of some errant drops, “They forced me to do the walk of shame!”

Onew clucked sympathetically, even if he had no idea what Jonghyun was talking about (walk of shame? Did he have to walk through the public streets with a cardboard hanging round his neck proclaiming his tomfoolery for the whole world to see? Was that it?). Nonetheless, it sounded like he had a hard time dealing with the aftermath, more so than Onew had, and now Onew was regretting for not taking better care of Jonghyun in China. He should have resisted more. He should.

“The two of them—the two devils in suits—they forced me to deliver cupcakes after cupcakes for the whole Communications and White House Press departments in those frilly, girly little pink paper bags. Me! The White House Communications Director! I could practically feel all the aides’—even the interns, more so the interns—judging eyes on me as I bring back those darn cupcakes Hyori and Kibum insisted on having. It was so embarrassing!”

Onew reached out and rested a warm hand on Jonghyun’s. He rubbed his thumb in what he hoped was a reassuring manner and wisely decided not to correct Jonghyun’s slip-up when he proclaimed himself as the Communications Director earlier on. “I am sure it will blow over,” Onew said.

“It better does,” Jonghyun said bitterly, “And I wasn’t even lusting over the female model according to what you said. It was just a dumb picture taken at the wrong time and now I have to bear responsibility for all these ridiculous things like how Kibum is being asked more questions about my ual life as compared to his 100,000 teachers during his daily press briefing, never mind the fact that they have no rights prying into my private life—the ing media. And how The People just released an opinion piece passing itself as an editorial article on White House’s shoddy employees, when they really just meant me. And how everything that’s failing or spoiling in the White House seemed to be my fault.

And guess what, just a day ago, that bastard Taemin even gifted me with a Henessy XO Cognac. He was going all ‘Oh Jonghyun, I heard you had to drink a lot of those inferior rice wine in China and I think you deserve more than that. Here you go, I got this specially for you. I think you should drink this instead’,” Jonghyun raised his voice higher, puckered his lips and blinked his eyes innocently as his hands held out an imaginary Cognac bottle to Jinki.

Jinki frowned, “Taemin, personal aide to the President? I thought he seemed to be a nice kid.”

“You are being duped,” Jonghyun declared, “Nice kid, my foot. His sole purpose in life is to irritate the hell out of us senior staff and none of us can do anything about it, because Kibum that has fallen under his spell and wouldn’t let us utter a single word against him.”

“Oh my.”

“He is a terrible brat. You should have seen his expression when he was offering me the cognac. He had this -eating grin on his face and I am a calm man, a gentle man, you should know this, Onew. But this is one of the rare moments when I wanted to punch someone’s face that badly.”

“There, there,” Onew rubbed Jonghyun’s arms soothingly.

Jonghyun ignored the weird pins and needles creeping up his arms. Odd, he was getting goosebumps while simultaneously flushing up. Why was he getting so hot and bothered over such a simple gesture?

Brushing it off and deciding to pin the blame on the alcohol he was downing, Jonghyun grasped the neck of the bottle and poured himself yet another generous portion, drinking it in one shot, saying, “But I am a smart man, Onew, I am a smart man. I did not just turn my back and stalk off huffily because that’s what Taemin would have expected me to do. Instead, I took the cognac before stalking off. Hah, now the brat is 200 dollars poorer.”

Onew could feel the corners of his lips curling up as Jonghyun puffed up slightly in pride, as if he had accomplished something great outwitting Taemin in such a petty manner. It was slightly childlike, he had to admit, but it was cute too. Onew smiled, eyes crinkling up and moved on to patting Jonghyun’s hand affectionately.

“Not that it would have mattered much to the spoiled brat anyway,” Jonghyun’s mood took a downturn as he continued glumly, not noticing the change in Onew’s facial expression, “That rich kid, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. I bet he came into this world swaddled in silk and satin while I had to make do with my cotton and linen. He probably drinks those expensive cognac every single day while I drink my cheap Heineken only on days when I don’t have to work. I don’t even know why Taemin wants to take on this job as Personal Aide when he doesn’t really need the political connections. He could have not dipped a toe into politics till he is 40 but still win a Senate race the first time he enters. Yet here he is, in the White House, frustrating the hell out of all of us senior aides.”

Jonghyun’s sentences were starting to slur and Onew noted with an alarmed eye the bottles that had started accumulating at the side of the table. Goodness, since when had they drank so much? 5 bottles gone already and Onew did not even partake in much of the merrymaking (or perhaps gloomy-making, seeing how Jonghyun was). And from his previous experiences from Jonghyun, that meant Jonghyun was starting to reach his limits already.

Firmly, Onew began to remove the bottle and glass before Jonghyun. But he was stopped by a hand from the said party and a pouty protest was sent his way. “What are you doing?” Jonghyun complained.

“You can’t drink anymore,” Onew reasoned, “You will get drunk.”

“Who cares,” Jonghyun slumped his head down onto the bar counter, trapping Onew’s hand awkwardly under his chin, “Tomorrow is a public holiday anyway. One of the blessed days when I don’t have to see the faces of my lovely White House colleagues.”

“Still,” Onew said persuasively, “You will get a massive hangover you know.”

“I don’t care. Just let me unwind today, please?”

Thank you for your patience! I am back, and ready to write! :) And here you go, the latest update of A Big Country, with Jonghyun (once again) suffering under the tyrannical rule of his colleagues. But at least Onew is there for him.