Wonhee POV

My second day as a KFC worker. I can do this. Fighting!

“Good morning Wonhee! Chicken Suit duty again today, okay?” I give up. Today’s going to be full of crap.

I dragged myself outside.

People passed by taking a couple glances, others, saying how sorry they were for me. Well I don't need your pity. I pity you for pitying me. Oh yeah.

To my right, a couple was taking a morning walk together, hand in hand, steps in sync. The guy said something and girl started giggling. Both were smiling like all they needed was each other to live. Like all they needed was their love.

How gross.

Unlike them I was independent. Look at me, working for myself; living for myself… in a costume at KFC, but that doesn’t matter.

While in deep thought, someone poked my shoulder.

“Ya! What do you – Oh look. It’s the pole hugger.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Or smirk.

Either way, the thought of him walking into a pole lifted my spirits.

“Well if it isn’t the obese bird.”

“What are you doing here again?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Chicken.” With that said, he walked inside.

Stupid klutz. He left before I could fire a reply.

Who the hell eats chicken for breakfast?

Okay, okay. Maybe I do but that’s only because it’s free. Psh.

My mind went back to the walking civilians. I’m tempted to throw my costume’s 5-pound headpiece at someone just for the sake of boredom. Or maybe throw some of the leftover gravy at cars. Or old ahjusshi’s.

“What are you doing, checking out that old man?” Oh look. It’s Pole Guy with a bucket of bird.

“Of course. He’s pretty hot for a 90-er.”

“Really now? I didn’t think chickens were into older men.”

“Well this chicken is. And this chicken wants you to go away now. I have work.”

“You call this work? Standing around?”

“Yeah! I mean seriously. You probably don’t even work. I think you’re one of those rich dudes that know nothing of effort because they go home and swim in ing seas of money. And then dry them selves off with even more money. For all I know, your toilet paper’s made of money.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Your shoes are limited edition Nikes, your little dress shirt there is from Armani Exchange, and lastly, you smell like someone that just walked out of Guccini.” I might have not been the richest person before, but I’ve been around people like him at work to know enough about them. Honestly, they were all bastards.

“Okay. You have it all wrong. My stylist picked my outfit for me. All I do is wear it and give it back.”

“You have a stylist. That doesn’t really help your point.”

If I had my own stylist, I’d make her do my KFC hours for me.

“Do you not know who I am?” No. Sorry. I’m not a stalker.

“No, Almighty Pole Dude, I do not know who you are.”

He stayed silent and thought to himself for a bit before looking around. He pointed at a bus.

“Look at the metro.” And I did. On it were five very… gorgeous men.

“So what am I supposed to be seeing?” I repeat. Gorgeous men. Is he trying to tell me he’s gay?

Onew POV

Is my popularity really that low? I think I should play with my tongue more for fan service.

I emphasized my face and then pointed at SHINee’s picture glued onto the bus.

“Do you see anything similar?”

“Oh! I get it! You’re that guy’s look-a-like! Honestly though, he looks better than you. Like he’s all y and you’re all… fat.”

I frowned in annoyance. I just lost my chicken appetite. THAT NEVER HAPPENS.

“I,” I pointed to me face, “am him,” and the moved my hand, pointing to the bus still at a stop.

“You model for buses?” I’d make a pretty hot bus model, but no.

“Are you serious? Do really not recognize this face? Aish. I’m a singer with them. We’re called SHINee. Now, have you heard of me?”

“You sing… and you’re on a bus. How is this relevant?”

“Look.” I took my sunglasses off fixed my hair up to look like the picture. 

Behind me, I heard it. I heard them.

“Onew o-oppa?”

“Baaaaah! It’s Onew!”

“OMG, he’s like, glowing, with like, total amazingness.”

“Have my babies!”

“Have my chicken farm!”

The chick in the chicken simply kept looking at me.

“I don’t get it.”

“I’m famous. FAMOUS. As is teenagers all over the world devote their lives to me.”

“You’re also conceited.”

“You’re narrow minded.”

“I’m just detailed.”

“You’re overly analytical.”

“And you’re expressing like behavior.”

“I’m a guy. You can’t just call a guy a .”

“I never said you were a guy.”

“Bastard.”

“Ah, touché.”

My phone started vibrating. I wanted to chuck it at her.

“Yobosehyo?”

“HYUNG! WHERE ARE YOU? MANAGER WANTS TO MURDER YOU FOR BEING LATE! HE’S SHARPENING OUR KITCHEN KNIVES AS WE SPEAK.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I just ran into a bastard of a bird on the way home and got distracted. I’ll get there don’t worry. But stall for me Taemin-ah. Have Key nag at manager hyung like crazy. Bye Taeminnie.”

“Who was that? Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he’s the love of my life. Talk to you some other time, you stupid bird.”

I walked away like a boss.

I didn’t trip or fall. Hell yeah.

But a bug crashed into my face. Ew.

Wonhee POV
Hah. I saw him spazz like a maniac when the fly flew into in eye. He started wailing his hands in the air, waving them like he just don’t care.

He seems like the opposite of famous. More like a mental health patient. Someone with a chicken addiction.

Anways, guess what?

Oh. You’re right. I’m bored.

I should nap on the sidewalk to help pass time.

And I did.

“WONHEE. GET. OFF. THE. FLOOR. OR. YOU’RE. FIRED.”

Being poor . I want my old life back…

I should build a time machine and go back and make sure that coffee spill didn’t happen. My current future isn’t that lovely. It’s full of chicken and annoying human beings. Tomorrow would be a new day. To my disappointment, it involved a car and a crash.