The first time you see him is at a mall. He is a head of black in a sea of black, and there’s not really any outstanding quality that should have made him stand out. But still, you notice him.

You watch his back as it moves away, getting swallowed up by the crowd. And you notes his relatively short stature beside other random guys, and you wonder briefly if it is because of his height that he seems to stick out so much.

But when he turns around, to give you a last bow, you understand immediately what it is that made him seem so special than the others, and you can’t help but to feel a teeny, tiny bit superficial.

His face, you are sure, is a gift from god.

Separately, they are nothing to marvel at. But together, oh together, you think to yourself, it makes for a really striking appearance, and a really handsome one to boot.

It’s not the pretty boy sort of beauty you see everywhere in South Korea now, but rather, a more rugged appearance that plays up his dashing looks? You think to yourself, even as you distractedly give a small nod in return.

The boy grins, and all your doubts disappear. Your questions turn into statements. And you know that that face is not going to leave your mind for a while. Memorable, good-looking guys aren’t easy to come by, and even you know how to appreciate beauty.

That’s what make the boy stands out, you are certain. And you would have taken an imaginary hat off to your eye for beauty if you can.

Lee Jinki, Master Appreciator of the Human Beauty. That’s who you are.

(All this while, you conveniently neglect the fact that what make you notice the boy first is how he literally just walked into you, causing you to drop your phone.)

-

The second time you see him is at public library. The carpet smell that all library has cocoons your senses then and you begin feeling sleepy not 10 minutes after you have walked into the building. You snuffle your nose slightly and head lethargically over to the catalogue.

You have a list of reference books you need to get, but you are so tired that it wouldn’t surprise you if you just collapse over, falling asleep on your feet. It does not help that the air-conditioner is blasting away, and you have always preferred the cold over the heat.

Just when your eyelids are about to betray you and have you failing your thesis, a strong scent wafted over, hitting your nose hard and electrifying your senses. You give a small jump, and you look about, trying to identify the source of the smell before seeing a head of badly-dyed brown passing by your aisle.

You can see the head entering the aisle next to yours and the smell does not disappear. You assume that it comes from that teen—you can sort of see him through the gaps in the shelves—and you snuffle your nose in annoyance again, because you are not too sure whether do you like the smell or not.

It doesn’t exactly smell like the perfume your female friends wear, but then again, he is a guy and you don’t suppose he will be wearing girl perfume. And while you may be no connoisseur of cologne, you don’t think it smells like guy perfume either. All in all, it makes for a rather confusing experience for your olfactory systems and you wish he will just move away.

You were the one who came to this aisle first anyway. Who gave him the right to head into the aisle next to yours?

As you energetically debate the merits of chasing the guy away or bearing with the smell, you realize that you are no longer quite as tired and the sleepiness that has been heavy on your back has disappeared. You are all manners of amazed, and you open and close your hands experimentally, noting in excitement that even your actions seem to be faster.

This is better than coffee, you whispers to yourself in wonderment.

The next moment, you are confronting the guy. And rather than chasing him off to a 5 km radius away from you, you are demanding to know what scent he is wearing in a rather unconventional manner. All niceties and ‘hello’ are foregone in favour of knowing immediately what the guy is wearing, because your deadline is looming and you are willing to sacrifice even your first-born at this juncture.

It’s only after a thoroughly confusing and futile 15 minutes conversation you finally managed to leave with your much desired information. The guy is wearing Nike’s deodorant.

(You ignore the weird looks the guy throws at you as you leave with a maniacal grin.)

-

The third time you see him is when you are wandering down the halls of an unfamiliar building.

You are a proud newly-minted trainee of SM entertainment and you are receiving a tour of the basic facilities from one of the staff members there. Your hands are slightly clammy and you take in everything with goggly eyes and country bumpkin-esque amazement. At that time, you can’t control your slightly embarrassing actions even if you try, because this has pretty much been your dream all along, and the fact that you have gotten this after failing once makes it mean all that much to you.

You can find no fault in the building even when the staff member pointed out a spoilt toilet and warned you to stay away from it, because it has been pretty much choked since forever.

Thank you very much, you say with happiness in your voice, as the tour finally ended and the staff decides to drop you off at one of the training rooms.

The staff takes in your gratitude with faint amusement and looking back in hindsight, you wonder how many bright-eyes trainee she must have brought around, seeing them full of so much hope and dreams only to have them all amounting to nothing. You wonder if she is still in SM, and what she would have said when she sees you now.

You have come far, you would like to believe.

But anyway, that’s a story for another day, and you want to go back to your third encounter with the boy.

So, the staff dismisses you with a casual wave of the hand and tells you to enter the room. And you did. You twist the doorknob and push the door open, and even now, you can still reconstruct the scene with startling clarity. The way the metal doorknob feels to your touch, the way the door is heavy against your push. It has been six years, and you are amazed at how your brain chooses to retain this memory in pristine quality even when you can barely recall who went to your 18^th birthday party.

The door opens, and you cross the threshold, slightly apprehensive now. You are all of a sudden aware of you deficiencies, and the fact that everyone in here has more experience than you make you feel out of place. A small group of boys are in the room, clustered around the furthest end of the door, papers in their hands.

They look up as you enter, and you give them what you hope to be a bright smile. Two smile back at you in courtesy, another nods and the fourth simply returns back to his music sheet.

Hello, you begin nervously, I am Jinki, and I am new here.

Junsu here, one of them replies, we are starting vocal lessons soon. Sit down and wait.

You approach them and chooses a spot a safe, but not too anti-social, distance away. You don’t want to be thought to be too forward on your first day, and you definitely don’t want to intrude on their personal space yet. And so, you remain to yourself as you sit, legs crossed, uncertain as to what to do as the other boys show no interest in involving you.

Fiddling with your fingers, you can already imagine the not so easy journey before you. Not only is debuting into idoldom hard, but you can sense a sort of hierarchy among that trainees. You sigh and contemplate the rocky path before you, and it has only been 2 days since you have officially become a SM trainee that you are beginning to have doubts about all this gig.

Then, the door bursts open and a head of brown appears. A boy steps into the room, breaths ragged and the sheet in his hands crumpled. He strides across the room in bold steps before flinging himself among the group in an exaggerated motion.

He declares loudly, safe.

The boy who nodded previously rolls his eyes in response and comments that he is simply lucky the teacher is not early five minutes as he always is.

The brown haired boy grins, saying that lady luck has always been smiling on him.

The rest snorts at his joke good-naturedly, and you allow a brief smile to flit across your face. There is something in this boy other than his loud obnoxiousness that makes him quite likable. Besides, you have observed the interactions among the group, and you figure that it is best if you don’t offend this newcomer.

He seems to be pretty high up the social ladder, you deduce.

Just then, the boy notices you, and he flips over before sitting up.

Hey there, he says in surprise, there is a newcomer. Who’s he?

Jinggi, someone replies and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. You have just introduced yourself not 5 minutes before, is it really that hard for them to remember your name?

Still, you do not let that show. Instead, you say, I am Jinki, hello.

Hello, the brown-haired boy says easily. He then sticks out his hands, I am Jonghyun.

Nice to meet you, Jonghyun, you say, as politically correct as always.

Jonghyun snorts his amusement at your words, and you panic for a moment, wondering if you have just made yourself a laughingstock before you make any friends.

Are you always that formal, Jinki? He laughs out.

And you out a sigh of relief because oh, so that’s what he is laughing at.

You rub your nose in embarrassment and say with a small smile, sorry. I am just nervous and I don’t know anyone.

Well, now you know us. He gestures expansively at the group of boys, have they introduced themselves? I bet they haven’t, this bunch of prickly asses. This one here is Junsu, that one is Mingguk and he is Harry. That is Junming and watch out for him now because he always PMS-es this time of the…

You don’t really notice the rest of what he says, although you make a special point to remember all their names, because the next thing that happens is the door being flung dramatically opened by a bombastically dressed man, and you can only assume he is vocal teacher judging by the greetings of the rest. He starts off your lessons by first testing your range before he throws a musical theory textbook at you, demanding you familiarize yourself with all the vocal techniques before reporting back to him.

Time passes by in a blur and the first lesson of your route to idoldom ends quickly enough. You don’t recall much else, except for the fact that you don’t leave the room alone, and the brown-haired boy named Jonghyun is beside you, arbitrarily declaring himself your guide for the week when you are stepping out apprehensively. You do not let too much of your relief show on your face, but he guesses enough easily and slaps your back happily.

Jonghyun brings you to about pretty much everywhere during the first week, taking particular delight in bringing you to off-limit places, and you call him hyung all the while.

It’s not till a month later that the two of you get age order correct, and for a period of time after that, he can’t call you hyung without cracking up.

You laugh along with him, because he is the first friend you have made in SM, with stunningly handsome looks and terrible taste in deodorants.

Sometime during the month when both of you don’t know each other’s birth years, you realize you have met him before. Not once, but twice. But you don’t let Jonghyun know, because it won’t change anything anyhow, and you simply treasure these encounters by yourself.

They can just be your tiny, little secret. 

I love 2nd POV, but no one else seems to share my passion for them haha.