It was 25^th September, 2009.

I could just about make out the sound of the phone ringing constantly through my dreams, my eyes burning as they hit the daylight creeping through the crack in the curtains. Curling around and tugging the duvet further around me, I tried to block out the throbbing sound of the endless ringing from outside my room door.

Although the bed I slept on was new to me, and was an uncomfortable stranger, it was much more pleasant than the ringing that disturbed me at 6 o'clock in the first morning I was to be MBLAQ's replacement member.

The ringing clicked off as someone had lifted the phone off the receiver and my thoughts relaxed, my eyes closing so that I could drift back off to sleep.

Yet, the body in the bed beside me shuffled in his quilt and a few mumbles escaped from his lips. Stretching my arms, fed up at the irritating rustles around me, preventing me from going back into a deep, restful sleep, I climbed out of the crumpled covers of a bed and blinked repeatedly, letting the daylight seep into my eyes.

A hard series of knocks jabbed against the door of the room – the silent sound of practice calling.

The only member of MBLAQ that had shown himself to be younger then me twisted himself in his bed again and I heard him grumble a quiet “shush” but a short giggle at himself showed me he wasn't serious.

The knocks on the door appeared again and I twisted my gaze back round and adjusted my eyes so that I could clearly make out the shape of the door frame.

Quietly, I stepped forward and took hold of the round -smooth to the touch - handle in my grip, twisting it so that the door could open a crack towards me as I peered round the edge.

ByungHee Hyung, as I had come to know him, sniggered at me, as he took a glance at my bed hair. This was a regular occurrence for me, and I could visualise exactly what my dirtily dyed blonde strands of hair looked like in my head, one side – usually my left as it was the side of me I felt most comfortably sleeping on– would be spiked up roughly, more than the other, and messily spread over my face. I could tell this was what I looked like currently as spikes of my hair peeked over the tops of my eyes, creating blotches in my vision.

Ceasing his laughs, ByungHee Hyung, or G.O. as the fans, if we would accumulate any, would be soon to know him as, smiled, his eyes obviously not drooping, his appearance pristine and he had quite clearly adjusted to the early mornings. The short hairs growing around his lips, I had been told by my room mate, was apparently to do with the look they were trying to create around this new Hyung of mine.

Smiling awkwardly, I encouraged him to continue with what he was going to say, hearing a shuffle from behind me and a sudden thump and a delayed “ouch” when my room mate fell off his bed and hit the floor.

ByungHee Hyung turned his expression serious as I tried not to be distracted by what was going on in the room behind me, and announced, “Practice is in half an hour. Rain Hyung needs to teach you your dance. Hurry up.”

His eyes glazed over with a stern expression as he turned around and I stumbled back into my room, slouching on my bed. Resting my head limply on the hand held up by my up-righted arm, I mumbled, “I'm never going to fit in.”

“Don't worry,” a cheery, yet tired, dongsaeng perked from below me. I wrenched my eyes from my feet to see him lying, relaxed on the floor, his upper body perked up by his forearms, and the duvet covers thrown around him. He grinned, obviously not bothered to get up. “I can't get up early either.”

Smiling, knowing that he was unaware of the real situation, I laughed sadly and drooped my eyes, picking up the nearest clothing to me.

As much as he was hyper, he would never understand.