When Byung Hee usually heard the front door, his first thought wasn’t who might be, but a loud and obnoxious “paparazzi” or “reporters”. They have been hiding perfectly fine for the past two years. It was almost impossible after all the safety procedures they have taken to be put on the map by a bunch of scandal lovers. He didn’t expect anybody to remember him in the first place. He’s been absent from the music scene and acting stage for almost five years. It wasn’t that farfetched to be forgotten. Of course, his time shall come again soon. With extreme caution and a somewhat paranoid demeanor, he slowly pushed the button on the intercom near the door. A small imagine showed none other than Chang Sun. Lee Chang Sun, also known as Joon. Byung Hee lowered the rolled newspaper and opened the door with a stern look. He was shocked to see a zombie like figure instead of his best friend.

“...Yo”. Chang Sun’s voice sounded terribly deep and let Byung Hee confused as ever as he scratched the back of his head with the newspaper.

“...Chang Sun, you alive?” he abruptly asked, receiving some weird stares from his fellow band member. Chang Sun simply entered the apartment, took his shoes off, stole a pair of slippers and dragged his feet over to the kitchen where he slumped on a chair. Byung Hee locked the door after him and rushed to aid Chang Sun with a glass of water.

“So... tired.” The half-dead person groaned from his chair as he barely lifted the glass to his mouth. Most water spilled around on his clothes, earning another moan from his already exhausted self. Byung Hee pulled another chair closer to him and had no idea where to start the questioning. Both his legs and arms were wrapped in defense, the rolled newspaper still in his grasp.

“Are you okay?” he finally inquired and questioned his own sanity. Of course Chang Sun wasn’t okay!

“Yeah. Just tired.” Came the answer as Chang Sun gave him an assuring smile and a wide yawn took hostage his mouth. “Took a break from filming, wanted to see you.” He half-spoke and it took Byung Hee a while until he caught all the words through the yawns.

“That’s it?” he loosened up a bit. For a moment, he’s thought something worse happened and he knew how much his friend pushed himself into work without any consideration for his well-being. Like a mother figure, he ended up scolding the younger one for being so reckless, especially when he had a family to carry along.

“Well, the girl had an awful dream and she slept with us last night. She kicks in her sleep.” Chang Sun concluded and cried fake tears of misery. Byung Hee mumbled something for himself and exhaled deeply.

Lee Joon. A playboy when singing and dancing while permanently surrounded with screaming fans that want a piece of his body like a pair of cannibals. On the other hand, he is a complete goofball. His Korean is still awful, blurts out the most pointless things and his imagination is lost somewhere in outer space. There have been many times when most of them believed he’s just a stupid man, but that was all on screen. Byung Hee knew exactly when and how to draw the line between Joon and Chang Sun. Chang Sun was a kind, hard-working and humble man. His wit surpassed many, seen mostly in his eyes and comforting smiles. It wasn’t a surprise they’ve became closer friends than ever after the fiasco ended: both in love and both with children, both fathers and both afraid of the future.

“Jun Hee?” but why in the world had he named both his children with a “J” in the front? He had more faith in him than that.

“Yes. She’s a darling.” Chang Sun smiled proudly and almost ended up at Byung Hee’s feet if he hadn’t fixed his position in the chair. “And Ji Woo misses Dae-Hyun.”

Byung Hee involuntarily let his eyes roll to the kitchen door, waiting for the child’s voice to announce his presence. Yet, there was nothing. Dae-Hyun was probably sound asleep in his room or playing video games. The once adventurous child has been forced under house arrest. Byung Hee felt bad about it, yet there was nothing he could do at that moment. He’d been waiting for a while too, mostly for things to get better.

“By the way, can I drop Ji Woo tomorrow?” Chang Sun leaned after the water and finished the glass in one gulp. Thirst was something he hasn’t experienced until it smoked his mouth. Byung Hee got up from the table and lazily opened the cupboard in search of another glass.

“Sure, why not?” It was something they’ve grown accustomed to. When Chang Sun and Hyuna had something to do, they’d let Ji Woo in their care and it also went the other way around. It was an unofficial pact that gave them some free time and peace and quiet when needed. It didn’t matter how good of a parent you were. Byung Hee wished to sometimes have a night just with Chaerin or plain both of them had something to solve before the night fell upon them.

“When are you two going to have another kid?” Byung Hee almost dropped the clean glass. He placed it on the counter and reached for the water, pouring some for himself. A smile forced itself upon his face and his eyes hid a shadow.

“Huh, look at him,” he turned around and tried hard not to show Chang Sun how much he wanted to avoid such subject “...bragging with his children and all.”

Chang Sun merely raised his empty glass in acknowledgement, grin and all.

♥

Seoul – a wide-spread human populated area that sometimes can be compared with an urban jungle or a desert when it came to relationships. The car she was in silently drove down the road, rush hour melting Chaerin on her spot. The heat came from her nervous self, repeatedly pleading for her body to manage its system properly. Finally, after a long time, she came back. Her fingers couldn’t let go of her sunglasses. Finally, after a long break, she could once again take her chair as the Queen of a small kingdom with worshippers in the form of adoring fans. Yet, she wished the object of their attention wasn’t her, but the music she produced. Somehow, guilt troubled her. What was she really to the public? Just another doll dancing on the stage for the entertainment of her peers or an artist that can stand for what she believes in and deliver strong messages through lyrics? It was something she couldn’t properly digest at that hour. The car suddenly pulled over in a parking lot.

It has been such a long time.

The door opened for her and she rushed with her manager not far behind, sneaking inside the building as fast as she could. She had to wait until they received her new ID card and examined the photo attached to the card, sunglasses fixed on top of her head before hanging from her jeans’ pockets. She had taken it last week and somehow felt uneasy about seeing her face again with the YG Entertainment logo near. The hallways were reminiscent of a snake: long, turning and twisting, dizzying her in an instant, only the sound of their footsteps present. No, she couldn’t. It was too much already. She had a family and felt like a horrible mother leaving Dae-Hyun behind. Byung Hee kept encouraging her and tried hard to prove he was capable of taking care of their child and also make up for the lost years. She could hear her heartbeat drumming inside her ears, crying in a tumult of agony.

Just then, a familiar face greeted her once she stepped inside a strongly lit multi-purpose room. All of Chaerin’s worries were swept away.

“Chaerin baby!” her stylist, the same person that made her feel pretty with the magic of colors, rushed to her side for a long-awaited embrace. He was probably one of the few in the industry who Chaerin considered her close friend and not a working partner.

“Don’t tell me, you’re here to help me?” she tried hard not to explode in a million colorful adjectives and nouns in order to describe how great the timing was. The other one winked and placed his hands on Chaerin’s back. He pushed her to the next room, without a single protest coming out from the blonde’s mouth. He went ahead afterwards and pulled from out a plastic wrapping something that made Chaerin smile wide. In front of her was a beautiful black cocktail dress that probably reached above her knees if put on.

“And this is what you’re going to wear today. How about it? I still remember your size, so it should fit well.” Chaerin eagerly came closer and touched the fabric: soft and delightful. Her fingers caressed after the lace pattern on the side and almost ripped the dress in joy if the stylist hadn’t snatched it away from her grasp. Chaerin pouted.

“Please, let me wear it now! Please!” she begged and received laughter as an answer.

“No, I need to do your hair and your make-up first!” he protested which only increased the intense look Chaerin put in order to convince him on her side. He gave up and handed the delicate piece of clothing. “Fine, you can try it on now. Call me if you need help.” He concluded and somehow felt regretful for not keeping it a secret longer time. Yet, he missed seeing his beautiful Chaerin doing her thing and creating miracles when it came to fashion. He closed the door behind and waited. It shouldn’t take her long, should it?

Chaerin got stuck in a room filled with clothes racks and a large mirror in the corner. She pulled off the blouse and arranged her bra; she had to ask for another one if she wanted to wear the dress and be presentable. Her eyes glanced in the mirror and were frightened for a second. It had been a long time she had last saw her half- self. It assured her that Byung Hee couldn’t keep his hands to himself and she hadn’t really inspected herself in a while, so it didn’t bother her that much in the end. She brushed it off when her back faced the mirror and her pants went down. The dress was waiting for its mistress. She carefully placed each leg inside and was happy to see she still had some space left. Some trouble arose when it reached her middle, making Chaerin jump a couple of times until she slid inside the dress. No worries. She was perfectly fine in a cocktail dress, what could go wrong? Except the fact that she couldn’t zip it up if she had five hands pulling at it. She approached the mirror and turned to the side, trying to see what was wrong. Yes, the dress was her size; the size she had before becoming pregnant and giving birth. Both her bottom and upper sides were enlarged due to that. Or, to put it easier, her s and were too big, making the dress look stiff on her and impossible to lock.

“ you Byung Hee...” she muttered under her breath while trying again to pull the zipper slider. “.... ... you Jung Byung Hee!” she almost shouted and a sound made her stop to carefully rewind what she had just done. Her hand slowly came back to the front to reveal the newly broken slider.

“Is everything alright in there?” the stylist’s voice came from the other side of the door, making Chaerin groan in exasperation.

“Yes... everything is fine. Perfectly fine.” She didn’t expect for him to come inside right after. She turned around to the opening door and froze on spot. The stylist forced his features not to twirl in a pool of mess.

“You look ...great!” he tried hard not to make it sound like a lie since she truly had an aura around her, but not the kind he was expecting.

“Yeah...” her fingers kept fumbling with the broken slider, shame and anger battling each other.

A long silence made them both realize the dress wasn’t the one at that point.

♥

“Oh. Hello grandma” Dae-Hyun whispered at the phone as Byung Hee’s sleeping figure was fixed on the sofa. His arms were wrapped tightly around his chest and a frown crested his face. “Daddy’s sleeping. Are you coming over?” the child inquired at the device, slowly retreating to his bedroom where a notch or two in the tone of his voice wouldn't disturb his father. “Oh... you’re not.”

Dae-Hyun felt lonely, but mostly, Dae-Hyun felt useless because he couldn’t help his father with the constant nightmares he had been having those days. At least, back at his grandmother’s house, he had something to do and helped his mother all day long with chores from a young age. He hanged up after talking a bit, returned to the living room and took the blanket from the sofa’s arm. Soon, the little one made sure his father was at least comfortable.

Byung Hee’s eyes and mouth softened; a few rebel strands stuck over his scar. Dae-Hyun touched it lightly and still wondered how he had got it. It was a story he’d only know later, much-much later. Dae-Hyun climbed up the sofa and fixed his body over Byung Hee’s, not long after falling asleep as well. Byung Hee wrapped an arm around him, while the other brought him closer out of habit.

None heard the phone ringing again.