It was going to be a busy night in the city. The evening was young and so were the people enjoying it. Many a bar and many a restaurant were full to the brim with enthusiastic, chattering voices and the clinking of cutlery and glasses. A young man stood in skinny jeans and a warm coat on the sidewalk, waiting patiently to hail a taxi. When he caught sight of one approaching he raised a single gloved hand and hopped inside hurriedly as the vehicle drew to a stop besides him.

“Good evening, laddie. Where can I take ye?” the cabbie chortled in a heavy accent. The young man pulled down the large woollen scarf covering half his face and spoke in a smooth, clear voice.

“The Kindled Flame bar, please.”

“Righty-o, then.” The driver pulled out into the traffic, asking conversationally, “Will ye be meetin’ a lady perhaps, laddie?”

The young man laughed and replied politely, “No. I’m booked for a show tonight, actually.”

This seemed to pique the older man’s interest, “Really, now? What do ye do then?”

“I sing, sir.”

“Really? I would have had ye pinned for a guitarist, myself, to be honest. I bet you get the attention of all the ladies then, eh?”

The young man laughed again, shaking his head, “Speaking of guitarists, mine isn’t well, they had to organise a replacement. I’m a little nervous, to be honest. No idea what to expect.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, laddie. Know anything about yer replacement guitarist?”

“All I have is a name, I’m afraid. Apparently he’s called Park Chanyeol.”

The cabbie raised his eyebrows, “Oh, I know exactly who yer talkin’ about!  He’s the youngest son of the Park family, that one. Lives with his family, up in one o’ the big houses in the hills. Lovely little chap, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about. Musically gifted, the lot of ‘em.”

The young man relaxed visibly, “That’s great news.”

“Aye, yer gonna do just fine tonight. Here’s yer stop, laddie.” The old man pulled up beside the bar and the young man got out, paying his fair plus a little extra.

“Keep the change, thank you very much, sir.”

“Yer more than welcome. You got a name, laddie?”

“Oh, uh… When I perform, my name is Kai. But my real name is Jongin,” he explained with a shy smile.

“Right, well then. Ye have yerself a great time, okey?”

Jongin nodded enthusiastically, and waved the taxi off gratefully.

“What a nice person,” he mumbled to himself, and took his first step into the building.

The Kindled Flame was a popular bar, well known for its comfortable and friendly atmosphere. It had been furbished in such a way that it felt homely and familiar. There was an open main floor with tables and couches scattered through the space before a small stage. Staircases on either side of the room led up to an open loft, overlooking the stage from a higher angle. Faux animal heads were mounted on the wall and fireplaces on either side of the room crackled away heartily. Jongin smiled to himself - this was a venue he could enjoy performing in.

Making his way through the building, he slipped into a small hallway near the stage, rightly assuming it was where he was meant to be. This hall was colder and quieter than the rest of the place, and in the sudden near-silence he could hear the idle plucking of guitar strings. Jongin followed the sound until he stood towards the third door, furthest from the hallway.

“Nobody’s around,” he muttered to himself, glancing around. Taking it upon himself to check out Chanyeol the guitarist’s skills, Jongin took a deep breath, and disappeared. 

It was just something he’d always been able to do. Messing around with the fabric of his dimension didn’t seem like such a big deal to Jongin, although he realised it wasn’t exactly a common skill. Although he’d deemed it wise to never severely mess anything up, he had perfected his own abilities to the point where he could teleport himself around, or make his body invisible by using the grey space that separated their dimension from the next. It was a complicated talent to master, but then again so was singing and dancing, and it had taken him years of daily practice to get any good at it.

Taking care not to disturb the door to the room, he placed himself inside the room and leaned comfortably against the wall, fixing his eyes on Chanyeol as the other man strummed away. He’s good, Jongin thought in relief. After about ten minutes of this, Jongin turned to leave when he thought he saw Chanyeol’s fingers light up.

Simultaneously enthralled and confused, the vocalist watched as Chanyeol tossed tiny flames from hand to hand. Jongin’s mind flashed back to a conversation he’d had with his elderly ‘parents’ – “There are 11 other boys out there somewhere, just like you. If you’re lucky, maybe one day you’ll find them.”

While Jongin was lost in thought, Chanyeol had started to pour smoke into a carefully controlled ball, letting it grow and fill the room. The guitarist was careful not to let any smoke spill out under the door into the hall, inhaling the smoke calmly. He could breathe smoke the same way normal people could breathe oxygen, and he often did this before gigs to calm himself and prepare his mind.

Jongin, however, couldn’t breathe smoke, nor was he skilled enough at using his talent to escape from it while he was deprived of oxygen. Holding his breath desperately, he made the quick decision to appear before Chanyeol and hope there was something the guitarist could do about the smoke he’d created.

Jongin dropped back into visibility right in front of Chanyeol and instantly began coughing. The guitarist let out a wordless shout of surprise and drew all the smoke back into his palms fairly quickly, leaving a gasping Jongin.

“Thanks,” Jongin wheezed breathlessly.

Chanyeol didn’t reply but furrowed his brow as he placed his palm on Jongin’s chest, and carefully drew the remnants of the smoke out of his lungs.

“You all right?” Chanyeol asked almost casually, and Jongin was surprised to find that he was perfectly fine, as if he’d never inhaled the smoke in the first place.

“Yeah, of course,” Jongin replied reassuringly, then trailed off awkwardly, not sure what to say.

Chanyeol looked him over with intense scrutiny and said, “So. Apparating out of thin air. Not exactly something your average person can do.” He trailed off thoughtfully, and watched closely as he produced an arc of flame and sent it dancing between his palms. “Then again, neither is that.”

Jongin shrugged, still struggling to come up with something to say.

Chanyeol gave him a careful look, “So, am I right in assuming you’re one of those kids?”

He jumped to that conclusion quickly, Jongin realised, and his suspicions were confirmed. “Does that mean you’re one of those kids?” he quipped back.

Chanyeol laughed, long and low, “You got me. Yes, I am. Fire’s my thing, in case you couldn’t tell.” He leaned forwards, eyes sparkling with curiosity, “But what about you? What the hell was that thing you just did?”

Jongin hesitated, unsure of how to explain his power, “Well, I can sort of… Move myself between dimensions. I’m not sure how to explain it, to be honest. I mostly just use it to disappear, and teleport and things like that.”

Chanyeol was enthralled, “Far out.” He let out a long whistle, “So can you show me again?”

Jongin laughed and complied. Chanyeol’s enthusiasm reminded him of a young child, “Okay, I’ll try to show you what I mean.” He picked up the nearest object (a chair) and slipped away with it. Jongin laughed out loud as Chanyeol’s eyes grew to the size of golf balls and he looked around wildly. Jongin moved around to the other side of the room and placed the chair down before he slipped back into reality.

Chanyeol clapped enthusiastically, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “Can you make the chair appear again?” he asked, bouncing excitedly. Jongin nodded and concentrated as he slipped his arm into the grey space, rummaging around for the chair and pulling it back into the room.

Chanyeol was lost for words, but his clapping was loud and his grin was huge. This enthusiastic, almost childish persona had Jongin giggling as he compared it to the cool, collected guitarist he’d seen earlier.

“Oh. I almost forgot. You are Chanyeol, right?” Jongin queried.

“Indeed I am. Park Chanyeol, guitarist.” Getting to his feet, the elder man bowed deeply, “Pleased to meet you.” Jongin was both surprised and pleased to find he was being sincere.

“Kim Jongin, vocalist and dancer.” His voice was quiet and somewhat shy as he bowed in return, “The pleasure is all mine.”

Chanyeol broke back into a massive grin and thumped Jongin on the shoulder enthusiastically. “I’m just so excited to have found another one of us.  I’ve been wondering ever since I was first told everything, you know? But now, like…” he stole an excited glance at Jongin, “It’s real.”

Jongin couldn’t help but agree – Chanyeol’s joy was infectious. “Ah, but we have a show to play first,” he reminded Chanyeol carefully.

Chanyeol dropped back down into his seat and nodded sagely, “Sure. Let’s get warmed up.”

Some hours later, both Jongin and Chanyeol exited the bar smiling widely. As it turned out, they were an excellent duo, and as Chanyeol had put it, they’d absolutely owned it onstage. They bid each other goodbye with enthusiastic promises of future business together, names and numbers safely stowed away in their phone contacts.

As Jongin hurried along the cold street, he gazed at the stars and daydreamed about the other ten children from the experiment. Had any of them met each other? What were their powers? How old were they and what did they look like? Would he ever meet any more of them? The questions ran around his mind endlessly, bugging him until his curiosity was almost overwhelming him.

“Where are they now?” the vocalist asked the sky, and he felt very small under the expanse of the stars.