"It's difficult to begin anything. But the end results are always worth it. Honestly if we don't work hard at anything and don't try to bring anything towards the finish line, how can we ever progress as a nation? If all the 7 billion people in the world put in as much effort as Einstein or Tesla, we would have probably invented time travel over fifty times. Problem is no one wants to work but everybody wants to make money."

2001

I’m worthless. Absolutely nothing. 



Jaejoong stared long and hard at his body, in front of the mirror. His fingers gracefully ran along the side of his own face.

He couldn’t even make eye contact with himself.

This happened nearly everyday when he had spare time.

He would walk into the bathroom and lock the door, strip himself down to the flesh and take a long look at himself. Sometimes he wouldn’t even look, just stand and wallow within his own emotions.

He felt alone and desperate.

This act of self-shaming was just a way to hurt his own self even more. Each time he toned down his pride. Perhaps somewhere within his subconscious mind he felt that he was doomed to fail anyways.

His biggest aspirations and dreams included becoming a big star. Like Kangta or Moon He Jun. One day he was going to become a big celebrity. He wanted love and attention. To become a big singer and musician.


How can I become a big celebrity with such an ugly face?



He scanned his own facial structure. With a pained expression he traced his fingers along the bridge of his nose. He scowled at his crooked teeth. My jaw is too wide. My eyes look alien. I’m completely disgusting. 


He would continue the same self-criticizing mantra each and every time. Why am I even on this path? I can’t even dance properly. Two left feet. 

Then from self-criticism, he would fall into an emotional self-hatred bubble. Coiling into himself. Sobbing. His own eyes betraying him. The tears just kept on pouring.

…My own mother didn’t even love me enough to keep me…I’m ugly…so damn ugly…not a man…disgusting…

He rubbed his face roughly until it became red. His face was completely flushed and wet. Slowly he would take deep breathes and calm himself down. He put his clothes back on once again and then he headed over to the training rooms.

He felt alone.

As the eldest, Park Jung soo would see new and old trainees come through the front doors every day. And no one worked quite as hard as Jung Yunho. He wasn’t that muscular, his cheeks were chubby and his protruding front teeth gave him the look of an adorable hamster. No one would ever think of him as harmful.

The tall and lanky chubby boy, despite his cuteness, had an aura of leadership and strength radiating from him like an endless waterfall.

By custom, SM entertainment liked to group all the trainees together like a lottery to see which group could potentially have the best future. In reality, it was more about bringing in the most money and reaping the benefits.

Yunho was already placed to probably his ninth group and the month didn’t even end yet.

Jung soo looked over at the boy with the corners of his eyes as he was making his morning role call. Yunho’s face was grim and his eyes were dead pan, clad with no emotion.

The eldest let out a heavy sigh and muttered quietly to himself, “Another group member must’ve left.”

This was perfectly normal, an every day occurrence. Trainees just sometimes couldn’t handle the heavy workload. He walked over to Yunho.

“What happened? Why do you look so dejected?”

Yunho looked up at Jung soo, his face not giving away any emotions, “Hyung, why do they just give up? I don’t understand?”

Jung soo patted him on the head, “Maybe they couldn’t handle the waiting time. Some families need boys to get quick jobs and earn money. Your hoobae probably left because of that. The economy is bad Yunho, you have to understand that not everybody can do this. People get sick of waiting for fame.”

The eldest took his leave as the youngest sat in front of the mirrors.

Yunho sat on the wooden floor cross legged and deep in thought.

 'Waiting is also a good idea. But, being patient can bring you more benefits than earning a quicker dollar. That hoobae told me how passionate he was about dancing. That must’ve been a lie. When you are passionate about something, you shouldn’t lose your faith in it. It shouldn't be about being famous, it should be about making a difference.' 
                                                                                                         
Looking around he realized how late it was already, no one was practicing anymore. As he was about to gather his belongings he realized there was one other person.

Appearing to be a boy, he wore an over sized sweat shirt and his face was covered with a hood. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing though. He made random hand motions and gestures that Yunho couldn’t quite follow.

Cringing at the sight, Yunho sighed and decided to leave.

Jaejoong entered the dance hall and took a quick look around to make sure no one was there. Startled he realized that there was indeed, one other person there. .

He took out his cassette player and decided to just pretend the other trainee wasn't there. Maybe if he just kept to himself he wouldn't attract attention. He especially came here every night to practice and to avoid criticisms from the other trainees. He didn't liking being made fun of.

Once again he glanced over to his left and his eyes widened.





Oh my god.




It’s Yunho…




Yunho was a very well known trainee. After making an appearance in Dana's music video, he became the trainee celebrity, the prince, the golden boy. Everybody began to look up to him and he began to accumulate fan girls before even officially debuting.

He wished he had Yunho’s confidence.

Despite the vast distance suddenly Jaejoong felt scrutinized. He was scared, what if Yunho saw him? What if he said nasty things to him? Everybody always said such bad things about his mood. He was as cold as an Alaskan Tuna. Just one criticism thrown at you from his mouth would give you an aneurysm. He was very well known about being serious towards his work.

He looked once again to Yunho’s side of the room and realized that the kid wasn’t even looking at him. His inner ego felt bruised. Am I not interesting enough? Is the floor more amusing than me? 

He glanced at his hair and self conscious with his appearance, he quickly tried to settle his frizzy hair down. Frustrated with his own bed-head and face he decided to just cover himself with a hood.

He fast-forwarded the cassette player to H.O.T’s Get It Up and began pumping his fists in glee to the choreography. He got so lost within his own world that he failed to realize that the Prince of SM had already left.

Pouting he spent some more time practicing and then finally decided to leave.

He stepped out of the doors of the building, the fresh night air hit his senses right away. He felt joyous. He began to walk through the streets of Seoul towards the student buildings where he rented a space for himself. It was quite small, but enough for one man.

He was deep in thought. At times like these he thought about his sisters. His mother. His father. If everyone was ok. He missed being with his family. His girlfriend doesn't even call him anymore. Looking all around him, he absorbed the sight of the trees swaying in the wind. He looked up at the stars and enjoyed the lights that looked down on him. He smiled. Normally he didn't like walking alone, but sometimes he needed time for himself.

Suddenly from a distance he saw the dark silhouette of a man. He appeared to be in a verbal fight with another smaller man. He heard shouting and screaming. Somebody stole somebody's girlfriend. He couldn't quite follow. A dangerous aura was around the man. Jaejoong was trying to make a decision, but his eyes kept him on the scene unfolding before him.

He couldn't see much because of the dark obscuring his vision.





Gunshots.



Sudden silence.



Chills ran down his spine and his mouth became dry. Jaejoong’s intuition screamed red alert that danger was near. Goose bumps rose on his arm. He became scared. The silhouette began walking towards him.

Yoochun was the first to awaken from his slumber. He rubbed the dirt out of his eyes as his eyelashes parted.

Like a cat he was sprawled on the floor in his old gray sweat pants and a simple black t-shirt. Stretching his aching muscles, enjoying the texture of the carpet as he sunk his nails into it, he yawned and coughed casually as he looked at the sleeping figure on the couch beside him.

Changmin snuggled into the cotton quilt like a puppy, burying his face into the soft material. The rise and fall of his chest was calm. His closed eyes remained serene and undisturbed.

The eldest noticed how sunken the boy’s face was. His lips were chapped and cracked. The bones of his face were visible and protruding disturbingly. He wondered what kind of a father would force his own child to go through such difficulties.

The Park family, once known to be the top assassins in the South Korean underworld, their line of work was so respected that it could rooted back to the Joseon era before Westernization. They had long converted their ways and reformed into a control station to regulate incoming and outgoing terrorist crime organizations. They stood neutral, to keep the balance. The authorities get straight information. No biases. No games. It was better this way.

Westerners came into their world introducing new man-created diseases like opium and other various substances throwing the poorer districts into chaos. Those who couldn’t afford the substance became sold away into ion or disappeared forever to become harvested as an organ donor to a rich investor.

Learning his father’s ways temporarily, Yoochun did not want this life for himself. He has seen too much for his young age. He wanted escape. He certainly did not anyone else following his fate.

Looking at the form of Changmin’s face, Yoochun sighed and felt only more dejected.

He sat on the floor, leaning his head back on the couch, one leg on top of another. He stared up at the ceiling. His ears listening to the monotonous ticking of the clock, soothed his aching brain. Motionless, he brought his right hand to his forehead and then rubbed his face in frustration.

Giving a small sigh and scratching the back of his neck, after careful thinking, he took this opportunity to look through Changmin’s only belongings. He entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him just in case. Turning the lights on in the grandiose bathroom, he scanned the small room and found the dirty clothing beneath his jacuzzi. Carefully he bent down and scooped them out.


Yoochun scrunched his face in disgust. Changmin’s shirt and pants were completely covered in dirt and grime. The smell was just atrocious. As if a dead man had worn them.  He wondered just how long Changmin was out at sea. He felt bad, but he had to figure out Yu Huan’s purpose for being on that island.


Instead of finding any clues or information, Yoochun discovered blood stains. Frustrated at himself for not noticing this earlier, he quickly ran out of the bathroom to inspect the kid for any injuries.

The couch was vacant and the blanket was flung across the floor. Wondering where the kid could be, Yoochun cautiously followed strange noises coming from the kitchen. What he saw was something borderline of a cute kitten rummaging through bits of morsels or a rabid raccoon rolling around in garbage.

The refrigerator door was flung open, the lights streaming out as if heaven’s angels were welcoming Changmin to take the food and bless it with his tongue. He must have been so hungry. He sat on the floor in front of the cold breath of the fridge with no care for the figure standing in the back of him.

“AHEM,” Yoochun was trying to hide his amusement, but failed. He stifled a giggle at the cute child sprawled on the floor with a mouthful of kimchi. Changmin looked up startled, he started coughing. Quickly he composed himself and swallowed the large load only to give himself the hiccups.


“Hic-s-sorry hyung –hic-hic.”


Yoochun walked up to the child and wiped away a piece of kimchi sauce from his bulging cheeks. The eldest then walked over to the kitchen table and poured a glass of water for Changmin, in order to silence the hiccups.

The pre-teen sat on the table, his glistening eyes were staring hard at the pattern before him. He felt ashamed. The person before him provided him with a place to stay for less than forty-eight hours and already he behaved like an animal who has never seen food before.

Yoochun saw the distress on Changmin’s face and quickly decided to bring out all the pots and pans. He started to cook up a storm with his limited cooking skills and tried to engage the pre-teen in it. He felt bad himself for not feeding him in the first place. The scum Yu Huan was such a large priority embedded in his mind, that he nearly disregarded the innocent soul within his own home, in need of love and food most importantly.

If Changmin’s stomach had a real life persona, it would be a large female with an endless shopping list of needs. Yoochun made a pot of ramyun and ordered room service desserts and on top of that steak, salmon, and spaghetti. Never has he seen anyone so happy in his entire life.


He turned his face to Changmin. He began to speak.

“Changmin-ah, are you hurting anywhere?”

The pre-teen looked up at his hyung and shook his head.

Worried, Yoochun kept pressing on, “Changmin-ah you need to tell me so I can help you. I promised to protect you. You have to be honest with me.”


Avoiding eye contact, Changmin got up from his chair and stood for a while, contemplating whether he should show the monster he is beneath or not.

He didn’t show it before, but every movement that he made with his arms, brought him great pain to his back area.

Slowly, he attempted  to remove the t-shirt. He tried to hide his pained facial expressions. Yoochun caught on quickly and helped Changmin remove the cloth.

Purple bruises ran across Changmin’s stomach and scratch marks all over his chest.

Yoochun took note of this and decided it would be best to take him for an X-ray and MRI check up to check for broken bones or head traumas and injuries. Finally the youngest turned around to reveal the most grandest of all the masterpieces that had painted his body.

The black welts and scarlet gashes ran across and all around Changmin’s back as if it were  a Jackson Pollock painting.

Breathless, Yoochun, just centimeters away from the child before him, subconsciously brought his fingers to trace the faint lines and fresh cuts upon the shoulder blades. Even the slightest touch made Changmin coil away. Yoochun apologized for his lack of self-control.

Changmin didn't cry or feel ashamed. He felt his hyung's breathe on his spine as the boy looked at the injuries. He felt relieved that he was not judged.

That night Yoochun called in his personal doctor to make sure his new younger brother was taken care of properly. They wrapped him in bandages and ointments and sent him to bed.






“Hyung…”




Yoochun lay on his couch already fast asleep. Hearing a sound he opened one eye carefully only to be graced by the figure of a sleepy Changmin. His hair was disheveled and his eyes barely open.

“Changmin-ah? What’s wrong Minnie?”

Changmin looked his hyung through his sleepy eyes, “I can’t sleep…”

“Do you need to pee?”

“No…I’m not a baby.”

“The water is in the kitchen than.”

“No hyung! I’m not thirsty.”

“Well what do you want? You don’t like my bed? It’s pure Egyptian silk!” Yoochun looked at the kid with confusion.

Sighing, Changmin sat next to Yoochun.

“Hyung…can I sleep with you?”

Without another word the eldest grabbed the younger’s hand gently and led him back to his room. Carefully he tucked the pre-teen into the covers and took a place next to him. He put an arm around Changmin’s waist and began to sing a self-composed lullaby that he always sang to his little brother Yoowhan. Before long the younger of the two had fallen into a deep slumber.

“Ok, Minnie, today is your first day of school. Your uniform is in the blue bag and your gym uniform is in the red bag. Now, I hired a nanny to pack a lunch for you everyday.”

Yoochun looked at Changmin’s slack jawed face.

“Hyung isn’t this a little much? I told you I don’t want to go to school. My name is going to be plastered all over!”

The eldest looked at the kid and puckered his lips.


“I already thought of that.  The high school you will be attending has another Shim Changmin. He is already popular and so if one of your father’s informants stops by -they won’t bother to look in, so they won’t think it’s you. Thanks to my special friends, all your documents and school records have been mixed in with his temporarily. He acts as a shield or a mask for you. All you have to do is naturally keep quiet and avoid attracting attention. It’s genius! I’m a genius!”

Changmin didn’t like this plan. He wasn’t much social to begin with. This is ridiculous. A high school education is important, but he hated socializing with thousands of kids his age. It was difficult enough being the way he was on his own.

“Hyung…I don’t like this…I won’t fit in…what if they find out who I am?”

Yoochun scoffed and said, “Look, if they make fun of you, I’ll have to teach them a lesson then.” He gestured a gun to the head with his hands.

Changmin pouted and went to try out his new clothing.

“BY THE WAY!” Yoochun shouted in his loudest voice, “EVERY MONDAY AND TUESDAY YOU COME AFTER SCHOOL TO-”

“Jeez hyung don’t yell! The neighbor’s are going to get mad!” Annoyed, Changmin quickly ran out of the room in his underwear.

Yoochun giggled at his reaction, “I was saying that after school, I got you a clerical work job at SM entertainment, so I pick you up after school Mondays and Tuesdays. You get to see hyung working hard!”

Changmin rolled his eyes, but his attention was definitely peaked. He wanted to meet BoA so badly.






AND THUS BEGINS THE ADVENTURE