I’m pushed aside before I can even speak by a determined-looking Changmin barging into my apartment with a heavy bag in one hand and his Kyu-Line members in tow. I sputter for a moment, slack-jawed as the gangly kid I was knew set his bag down on my glass table and proceeded to lay on my couch as though he owned it.

What in God’s name is—

“Hi, Jiyeon-noona.” I’m cut off from opening my mouth and swearing by a surprisingly sheepish Cho Kyuhyun. He looked nervous (oh ho!), avoiding to look directly into my eyes as though he was afraid I’d bite his head off. Which I would have done if I weren’t so amused by how anxious he was in front of me.

Ha! Increasing age has its perks!

“Since it’s your and Changmin’s birthday today, he thought it’d be cool if you guys celebrated it together. We brought food—” He held up his own plastic bag as evidence, before motioning towards Minho, Ryeowook, Donghae and CNBLUE’s Jonghyun behind him carrying identical bags of their own. They waved ‘hello’ shyly (especially Jonghyun at the end), and I had to stifle a laugh as Kyuhyun continued speaking, “—and beer, of course. We can’t eat sampgyupsal without beer.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, though I wasn’t really expecting guests tonight.” I told them lightly, smiling just to put them at ease. Their eyes flickered towards the brute lying on my couch and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

Flexing my leg, I reached behind to take a slipper off my foot before throwing it towards Changmin’s head. It hit him square on the face and I grinned as he yelped in surprise at the impact. He sat up slowly, making a face as I leveled his gaze with my own narrowed at him.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to deny people who brought you food, noona.” He said, smirking a little as he took out a can of my favorite brand of beer from his bag and tossed it in my direction. I caught it easily, my lips lifting almost immediately at the memories instantly flooding my mind—

Drinking sessions in Japan with eight other people huddled together inside a practice room. Laughing with my best (girl)friends while challenging the boys for a round of beer and chili paste pong—a game our two groups invented together because we were crazy and overworked but happy.

I couldn’t have stopped the grin on my face if I tried. So instead of saying anymore, I opened the can and lifted it to my lips—stepping aside to let the other boys in with a grin.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”