“Hi Jaejoong!” Changmin’s head emerged from behind the practice room door. “How’s your practicing?”

‘Terrible,’ I thought. ‘I woke up at seven thirty in the morning and already all of the good pianos were taken.’ I was practicing on a terrible Yamaha upright and my fingers almost slipped off of the keyboard trying to control its ridiculously light touch. It was also horrendously out of tune, and the notes that I played were not the notes that I heard.

“It’s going great!” I urged my voice to match my friend’s enthusiasm despite the horrible circumstances. “How are you doing?”

“Great, actually. I was just wondering if you would like to go get something to eat. I’m starving!”

“You’re always starving,” I pointed out. I learned early on during our acquaintance that Changmin—hmm, how do I say this leniently?—was a pig when it came to food.

“Exactly, so are you coming or not?”

I looked at my sheet music and then looked at the “starving” Changmin. Then I shrugged. “Eh, I guess one time wouldn’t hurt. We’re eating in the cafeteria, though. I have no money to spend.”

“Deal.”

I packed up and followed my tall friend out the door. Immediately another student entered the room and I was tempted to run back in there and reclaim the practice room that I had painstakingly woken up for. I sighed in defeat, though. It was too late to do anything; the guy was already settling in.

Changmin noticed my depressed state of mind and immediately wrapped his arm around my neck. “Don’t worry about it, Jaejoong. You practice too much as it is. It is time for you to slow down and smell the roses. You can’t change your playing in just one day. It took years for great pianists like Martha Argerich and Arthur Rubinstein to play as well as they do.”

My frown deepened. My practice hours increased from six hours to seven hours a day, and still it felt too short to correct all of the mistakes that I kept making.

“I really pity you, pal,” Changmin continued. “Only sixteen years old and all alone to fend for yourself here. I’m eighteen and my father is still around. You should meet him, you know.”

I smiled genuinely for the first time since my disastrous performance in front of Yunho. “Yah. That sounds nice.”

My smile evaporated when I saw who was coming down the hall in our direction. A fleeting moment of horror streaked through my face.

Impulsively, I grabbed Changmin’s arm, spun him around, and started dragging him the other way.

“What the hell?!?” he practically screamed out at me.

“I’ll explain later,” I whispered fiercely as the tall guy beside me started struggling and cursing at me softly.

I dragged him into the nearest Men’s Bathroom and locked us into a bathroom stall. Only there did I start hyperventilating.

“Dude, what is WRONG with you?” Changmin glowered. “All I did was ask if you wanted to meet my father and all of a sudden you started acting up on me. Like, what the hell? That is uncool, Jaejoong. SO UNCOOL!!!”

I took a minute to catch my breath before looking Changmin in the eye. “Did you see the person in front of us in the hallway?”

“Yah, it was Yoochun, wasn’t it?”

I winced at the sound of the beast’s name. “Yeah.”

“So?” Changmin threw his hands up in the air, accidentally knocking them loudly against the bathroom stalls.

When I didn’t answer him and just kept staring at him, it finally dawned on him.

“Oh,” he finally managed to say. “I see.”

I nodded slowly and looked to the floor. “I’m in deep , aren’t I?”

Changmin breathed in deeply, and exhaled after a moment. “I won’t lie to you, Jaejoong,” he stated. I could tell he was choosing his words extra carefully to form his next sentence. “Your life would have been much more pleasant here if you had not done anything to piss him off.”

I groaned.

“What the hell did you do anyways?”

“I found a way to kick him out of his practice room.”

Changmin widened his eyes. “Oh, that’s bad.”

“I know that much now, thank you,” I answered crossly. “Gah, but what do you think I should do?”

Changmin brought his hand behind his neck and bit his lower lip. “I actually don’t know, man. I mean, I guess the only thing you could do is avoid him and practice as much as possible. Other than that, I do not know what else to say.”

All of a sudden, I wished Yunho was beside me. He would know what to do. But then, I found myself always wishing that Yunho was beside me.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I flicked the thought away. “What happened has already happened. I can’t do anything about it. Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

“You know what,” Changmin finally smiled sheepishly. “I’m not hungry anymore, and you should go practice.”

“What?” I looked at him incredulously. Changmin NEVER said that he was not hungry, and didn’t he just say that I was practicing too much?

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Jaejoong,” he said hesitantly, “But I don’t think that we should be seen together. I mean, everybody here has been super careful not to get on Yoochun’s bad side. Those who ARE on his bad side usually get into a lot more trouble. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“So you are trying to stay on Yoochun’s good side by staying away from me,” I sneered. “Just a minute ago, you were playing ‘best friends’ with me.”

Changmin opened his mouth but quickly shut it when he found nothing to say. “I’ll help you find a practice room,” he offered.

My face hardened. I thoroughly understood the reason for Changmin’s sudden change of mindset, and because of it I officially became an outcast. “Okay,” I answered coldly. “Thank you.”

Changmin noticed my change of voice and winced as if he were in pain. “I’ll still talk to you, you know,” he added hastily. “Really, I would. I’ll come visit you if I know which practice room you are in.”

I kept my face unchanging. There was no need for his self-explanatory justifications. “Okay,” I repeated with an even colder tone of voice, “Thank you.”

My friend’s face fell guiltily. “I’m sorry, but the world is a jungle, Jaejoong,” he practically whispered. “There are the hunters and there are the hunted. I really do not want to be the hunted. But I still want to be your friend. You understand that, don’t you?”

I unlocked the bathroom door and sighed. “Okay,” I said for the last time before walking out, “Thank you.”

```

After four more hours of practicing, I returned to my dormitory with soft pain lingering throughout my mind. It was the kind of pain that killed you slowly, like opium overdose, unhurriedly settling in every part of your body until the only feeling you experience is anesthetizing pain. It might have seemed otherwise, but I knew that I had lost yet another friend due to Yoochun.

I walked towards my luggage which was still unpacked, and started digging through all of the stuff that I scrupulously packed just a week ago until I finally found the three items that I sought.

Number one, a bandage. It turned out that the piano lid that Yoochun slammed down on me had some sharp spots that cut deeper into my skin.

Number two, the family portrait. I looked at it nostalgically and wished that I could see all of them once more and hear their comforting voices again. I missed my mother, my father, my sisters, I missed all of them terribly. I missed all of the memories that we once shared together and started reliving each and every one of them. I remembered when I first touched the piano keys back when I was three years old. I remembered when I first flew a kite all by myself in the park behind my family’s house. I remembered the day I won my very first piano competition. I remembered the taste of the cookies my mother would bake every day after I got home from school and the kisses she would give me every night before I went to bed. I remembered the praises my father showered me with whenever I received top marks as well as the hug that seemed to last half an hour when I finally received my high school diploma at the age of fifteen. I remembered everything, and wished with all my heart that things would return to the way it used to be.

Shaking that thought away, I started rummaging again. The last object I pulled out of my suitcase was my brand new laptop that my father bought for me as a congratulations gift for getting accepted into the conservatory. I guess that he figured this was probably the only way I would ever communicate with my family again. Praying that there was wireless Internet, I booted it up and connected to all of the essential networks before opening Internet Explorer and signing into my email with my username ‘jujubejaejoong’. I was surprised at how many people emailed me in such a short period of time.

“Dear Jaejoong,

I hope you had a safe trip and a smooth plane ride. Did you watch any movies ♥ ? Did you find your dormitory comfortable? If not, we could always mail you new sheets and pillows. There is a sale in the mall, so feel free to ask for anything.

How are the practice rooms? Did you meet Professor Jung yet? Was he nice? We all hope he is; there is no point in going to a conservatory on the other side of the country just to study with a crummy piano teacher! Make sure that you always remember to respect him as your professor and be very polite to him. During your lessons, always dress nicely and present yourself as a respectable young man; wear your tuxedo if you need to.

Did you make any friends yet? Remember that friends are an important part of growing up, and that they will be able to help you in times of need. Choose wisely, though, and refrain from befriending reputational backstabbers. And remember the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Always be nice to everybody and everybody will be nice to you.

Lastly but most importantly, are you happy there? Are you still the sweet little Jaejoong that we all know? If you are really unhappy, please do not hesitate to come back. You know that you can always come back, right?

Anyways, email us once you figure out all of your stuff and connect to the Internet. We will be waiting!

We all love you! ♥♥♥

The Kim Family”

I smiled. That was just what I needed at a time like this: family support. Yet, I had the urge to tell them that the Golden Rule did not apply to this conservatory.

I scrolled down and another email caught my eye. This one, however, was not as heartfelt as the prior to it.

“YOUNG WOONG, YOU !!!

Sometimes I wonder why I ever put up with you in the first place! You have a heck of a sh*tload of explaining to do here! You got into THE f**king biggest conservatory in the country WITH a f**king scholarship to study with THE most f**king famous piano teacher EVER, and YOU DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME, YOUR F**KING BEST FRIEND!?!?! DO YOU KNOW HOW F**KING PISSED OFF I AM AT YOU RIGHT NOW!!?!

Dude, you owe me the whole story NOW. From beginning to end, NO SKIPPING!!!

Your one and only best friend,

~ Handsome Heechul”

Oops. I was so excited back then that I did not have time to inform him of that. My bad.

I shrugged. Heechul was just overreacting as usual. As annoying and uncanny as he always was, he was still my best friend from home since he was the best at cheering you up when you were down as well as the most sympathetic (I know, shocking, but he actually was). I remembered the day I first met Heechul at the water park (oh god, was that eventful!), and smiled longingly. He would forgive me for my mistake eventually, though; he always did. Heechul would understand.

Then again, after scrolling down some more, he wrote almost sixty emails to me during the course of the week, each with at least three swear words about how inconsiderate I was for leaving him out of something so big. Heechul would eventually understand, yes, but it might take him a while, I figured.

Another email came from my ex-piano teacher (I winced just looking at the name):

“Dear Jaejoong,

Your family just informed me of your accomplishment, and I just wanted to congratulate you from the bottom of my heart. It just too bad that I had no chance to congratulate you personally; it would have been nice to have seen you before you hopped on the airplane.

I would love to know how you are doing, so keep me updated!

Cheers!

Choi Siwon”

I cringed. Mr. Choi [A/N: Remember Grouchy Ol’ Mr. Choi?] wasn’t exactly the nicest teacher ever, and I was glad I did not tell him about my “accomplishment” or else my mother would have dragged me to have coffee with him (which was about the last thing I would ever have wanted to do).

That was when I realized that I had all the encouragement in the world. Everybody was happy for me and was rooting for me to achieve my dream of becoming a world-class concert pianist. They were all willing to lend me their shoulders as support until I was able to walk on my own feet again. They all hoped for my success and prosperity, and they trusted that I would be able to make the right decisions for myself.

Most importantly, they would be willing to forgive me if I do not achieve my dream in the end or decide to steer away from it.

I smiled at the thought and started to appreciate how lucky I was to have such wonderful friends and family. ‘Maybe Yoochun never had such a great family,’ I pondered, suddenly feeling pity for the guy.

Yet, I could not lie to myself. I was never good at lying to myself. Though I was in the best conservatory in Korea studying under the best teacher in all the word, I was unhappy. There was something missing in my life and I did not know what it was.

So, despite all of the support I knew that I had, I started to cry.

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