The first sip of tea was always the hardest.

That sentence up there wasn’t supposed to be inspirational. Yongguk was just contemplating the fact that it was nerve-wracking waiting for it to touch his lips and potentially having it melt his face off.

He blinked procrastination out of his brain and went back to marking papers.

What is life though?

Yongguk’s eyes glazed over again.

A teacher’s life was not for him.

Yongguk was halfway done grading the kids’ Korean homework when his phone vibrated in his jeans, startling him. He pulled it up, and had barely thumbed aside the green icon when an unmistakable voice he really didn’t feeling like listening to right now screeched into his brains. He had a keen impulse to just hang up, but seeming that he was ordained the leader all that crap, it was basically in his job description to handle from five other monkeys guised as men.

“I was cleaning the bathroom and I found makeup so I smeared it onto my face like Ursula and now it won’t come off Yongguk hyung what do I do there will be consequences I will be bullied…”

“Jongup,” Yongguk rubbed his temples slowly and strongly, as though trying to keep the patience bottled up between his ears, pushing back his brain’s gentle urges for him to succumb and hurl at the second-youngest member’s stupidity, “Why would you play with makeup. And you’re an idol, I think you’ll figure out how to remove…”

“YONGGUK HYUNG I HAVE GREEN EYESHADOW ON MY LEFT CHEEK AND BRONZE ON THE OTHER. THERE ARE MASCARA ON MY FOREHEAD I CAN NEVER LEAVE THE BATHROOM AGAIN.”

“…pft.”

“YONGGUK HYUNG THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. YOU NEVER TOOK ME TO A BASEBALL GAME AND NOW I HAVE THE URGE TO TRY ON MAKEUP.”

“What’s up?” Luhan peered up at Yongguk from his phone, bemused expression on his face as he registered the muffled, unintelligible dialogue blaring from Yongguk’s speakers (and the conversation wasn’t even on speaker).

“Not Jong Up’s testosterone,” Yongguk muttered.

“HYUNG I READ THAT HAND SANITISER CAN REMOVE MAKEUP I’M GONNA DO IT NOW.”

“You do that…”

“HOW LONG DO I KEEP IT ON, OH MY GAWD WHAT IF IT DOESN’T WORK?”

“You know, I’m right here. You don’t have to shout like you’re a 95-year-old man trying out Skype...”

“IT BURNS.”

Yongguk hung up.

*

It had been one of Zelo’s private resolutions to follow one his mother's famous philosophies – 'don't do stuff to people that you wouldn't like done to you'.

Fine, maybe he wouldn't like it if some dude shot him with a stapler gun (Youngjae's cheeks turned purple if he shot them fast enough simultaneously in one specific area), or hung up if he called him crying about zipping too fast after using the urinals (sorry, Jongup but you're a damn dolt), sign into a website with his phone (Luhan still got notifications) or leave expired yoghurt in the mini fridge just because he knew some particular member would be still nose-dead enough to eat it (though he stopped when Kris got sick in the bathroom once and that was gross).

Today he decided to stalk fans instead.

He was looking through his Instagram, scrolling through his own pictures with a long finger laden with rings and Sharpie markings which only a teenager would consider cool, a goofy grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he speed-read through the over-enthusiastic comments. Yixing was lying on the mattress next to him, also reading through the captions and twitching with excitement ‘at being so close to a celebrity’.

(Yeah, he’s still drunk.)

“Zelo-oppa, you’re so cute!, aww that’s so nice!” Zhang Yixing gushed next to him, chin resting in the crook of his shoulders, “these girls completely adore you!”

“I guess,” Zelo shrugged nonchalantly, but his brain was doing a leapfrog now, he was so excited at the growing number of followers on his feed, “I mean, we work hard to make ‘em happy.”

“Of course,” Yixing nodded furiously and went on reading his screen, “aww this one is nice – Zelo-oppa, I’m your number 1 fan from Germany and we hugged at the Berlin fan-meet last year! Remember what I said to you last year? I said something in German and you looked very confused! Let me explain now - we don’t say ‘let me hug you’, we say ‘lass mich deine seele dem herrscher der finsternis opfern’ which means ‘I never want to let you go’ and I think that’s very beautiful. Come to Germany again!”

“Oh yeah, I remembered that.” Zelo tapped on her name and her face came up, “yeah, she said a bunch of German I didn’t get. So that’s what it means.”

“That’s actually beautiful, I might want to use that,” Yixing pulled out his phone and began to tap it in, “I…” then he trailed off.

Zelo caught his expression and peered at his screen. There, Google Translate flashed into his eyes.

Lass mich deine seele dem herrscher der finsternis opfern

German-detected : let me sacrifice your soul to the ruler of the darkness.

Zelo and Yixing sat there, frozen.

“…what the…”

“Hold up,” Zelo sat up straight, “you are translating every foreign language typed into my feed.”

Yixing obediently refreshed the screen.

Zelo didn’t find any more weird foreign , but there were still some pretty funny people out there that apparently liked BAP’s music.

You know what Zelo? If I were a cat, I would spend all 9 lives with you. – Porto Rican 29-year-old with 2 kids and a cat.

Zelo-oppa I did an embarrassing thing today. I have a habit of being way too casual and when I was babysitting I accidentally said ‘what’s crackalakin?’ to the grandmother and she said ‘my bones, dear.’ I want to die. – American 15-year-old who evidently likes green nail-polish.

Zelo-ssi I see you typed everything in lowercase letters today. My dear chingu, capital letters are the difference between ‘helping your Uncle a horse’ and ‘helping your uncle a horse’. Please return to typing in proper letters. Thanks. – Korean 17-year-old with a monochrome feed.

Zelo-ssi, are you from North Korea or South Korea? I get confused? – American 20-year-old migrated from Zimbabwe.

One does not simply come from North Korea, dip. – Vietnamese 20-year-old in response to the above.

Zelo your face in Elle last week looks like you told a joke and nobody heard it, but then someone repeated it and everyone laughed. ­­- Korean 14-year-old.

YOU TAKE FOREVER TO UPDATE OPPA. WTF DO YOU POST SOMETHING UP AND THEN THROW YOUR PHONE ACROSS THE PACIFIC OCEAN ­– European 13-year-old.

I see Jongup is closer to Yongguk now. Oppa, if you ever feel like a third-wheel stop. You are not a third-wheel. You are a majestic unicycle and they are your noble training wheels. – American 17-year-old with a for fringes.

*

There were many reasons why Chanyeol was more of a dog person.

First off, they were loyal, trustworthy and they learn to love you.

Secondly, they had the most adorable looks on their faces when they wagged their tails when they saw you.

Thirdly, they would never leave you for another person out of peer pressure.

And really, he could go on, but the main difference between dogs and cats is that dogs did absolutely nothing to mask their clinginess. Whilst cats pretend that it’s a coincidence that they’re in the same room as you 97% of the time.

Like how that stupid cat he and Kris dug out of the ground, was lying on his face as though it meant nothing to the balance of life.

“BRO,” Chanyeol raised both hands to the heavens, not particularly comfortable at having its s separated a mere two inches of fur from his face. It didn’t move. Impatient, he sat up and the cat leapt off, hissing at him scathingly before prancing in the other direction of the room.

“Ugh,” Chanyeol spat cat fur out of his mouth and shuddered, “gross.”

Then, he began to register the figure curled up in a ball next to his sofa. He leaned over and poked the ball. He blinked as it uncurled and Minseok lay spread-eagle on the floor, eyes glazed over, watching the ceiling with a kind of tired, hopeless dread.

“…Hyung?”

“I’m sad.”

“Sad.”

“Yes, sad.”

“Like… sad enough to be a good painter or whatever?”

“…no.”

“So, what’s up?”

“Have you ever met the human version of a migraine?”

“Heechul still texting you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it, why don’t you just tell him to can it?”

“I actually did.”

“Whoa, wait what?” Chanyeol actually started and sat up in his seat, the phone slipping out of his hands and clattering on his face, “you did what? This is Heechul-hyung we’re talking about.”

“We actually got into a fight two nights before the train trip.”

“Holy crap,” Chanyeol’s eyes were massive… well, massive-er than usual,” you have guts, bro.”

“He was hanging out at my place because we wanted to watch Friends. He started making too much commentary whilst we were watching and I got mad because I couldn’t hear the damn dialogue,” he rubbed his eyes tiredly as Chanyeol watched him in anticipation.

“Well, we got into a fight and old stuff came up. He accused me of some old mistakes I made during trainee days and I confronted him about the stalking and... I told him to take what was his and leave.”

“WHOA.”

Kim Minseok, rookie artiste of EXO told Kim Heechul, Princess of Sass to leave his flat.

“He…” Minseok buried his face into his hands and the next words came out muffled, but audible, “he picked me up over his shoulder and walked straight out the door.”

“Kyyaaaaaaaa…” Chanyeol positive squealed, and Himchan looked up from across the room, “CAN I SHIP IT OH MAH GERRRRDDDDD…”

“He doesn’t take anything I say seriously!” Minseok exploded into Chanyeol’s deaf ears, “he just does whatever he wants and makes the situation awkward for me!”

“Oh my gawd, I wanna ship it too!” Himchan had just been updated, and the two baritone brothers started to squeal like chipmunks.

Minseok groaned and went back to his corner.

*

Sehun

I’m crying again.

11:34PM ✓✓

You cry so much you can start your own bottled water company.

11:34PM ✓✓

Hyung.

11:34PM ✓✓

Luhan gege, please.

11:36PM ✓✓

I said I was sorry.

11:36PM ✓✓

I never meant to hurt you!

11:36PM ✓✓

I thought about you the whole time!

11:37PM ✓✓

Sorry doesn’t bring back my damn Skittles, Sehun.

11:39PM ✓✓

*

“… Newspeak had been fixed for so late a date as 2050. The end.” Jongdae slapped the book shut and rubbed his watering eyes, “I can’t believe you made me read you George Orwell for two hours,” he regarded Melissa with one watery eye.

“Neither can I,” Nora growled, glancing at Melissa with the hairy-eyeball, “in what world was that better than Hansel and Gretel?”

“Shallow cretins,” Melissa grinned and stretched.

“Anyway,” Aaron sat up as the rest of the children straightened up to prepare for bed, “we’re reading comics tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask,” Sam raised a hand, looking uncertainly at Melissa, and she nodded with a smile, “what happens to nitrogen when the sun rises?”

Jongdae stood there, stunned.

Then, he smiled.

“It becomes daytrogen.”

“I’m going to bed,” Aaron threw his hands to the air.

“Good nitrogen.”

“Same,” Penelope regarded a laughing Melissa judgingly as she followed Aaron to the door.

“Sleep tightrogen!” Jongdae waved happily.

“Yeah,” Anne and Sam stood up.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bitrogen!”

“GET OUT.” The children screamed and Jongdae shut up.

*

When Daehyun woke up, it was as though someone was shoving a ton of socks down his windpipe. His face was warm, damp and …

The cat stretched and proceeded to leap off his face.