Throwing open the patio door with a flourish, Woo Jiseok steps out into his backyard, eyes immediately scrunching from the bright sun. With his free hand on his hip he looks around; gaze unfocused and slipping over the landscape without really taking it in. He puffs out his chest and nods a few times, the way he remembers seeing his father do, and with a little huff of excitement he heads for the patio table to carefully set everything down. Stuffing his pencil behind his ear he scurries back to the house and, with a wave to his mother, he slams the door shut. Ignoring the muffled shouts of indignation, he turns to take in his surroundings again. This time he really sees it, the bright greens of leaves and grass that are interrupted with the rainbow shades of the carnations planted a few days ago; being careful to note how much bigger the tree in the middle was compared to the others behind it, and even using his fingers to gauge the size of the sun. He grins before making his way back to the table.

Jiseok is going to be an artist.

He had only decided earlier today, when he was introduced to perspective and cross-hatching in art class, staring in amazed silence as he watched his elementary teacher quickly drag the pencil across page, alternating bold and tentative dots to recreate his portrait in minutes. Jiseok couldn’t ask enough questions, and excitedly promised that he would practice as much as possible to become the greatest artist ever. The teacher’s gentle laugh and head pats fueled his determination, and when he got home he immediately set to work, sparing time only to hang up the sketch on his wall.

He's just finished penciling in the last blade of grass when a shadow darkens a corner of his paper, and out of the corner of his eye he spots tiny dirt-stained fingers clutching the table’s edge.

“Whatcha doin’, hyung?”

Looking over, he spots Jiho, eyes wide and chubby lips open in awe as he stares at Jiseok’s unfinished picture. Before he can stop him, the younger stretches over the table to eagerly poke at the paper. “Hey! That looks like our backyard!”

Jiseok doesn’t hesitate to slap at the small hand. “Don’t touch it! You’ll ruin it!” He pushes the paper out of his little brother’s reach before turning in the iron-wrought chair, his feet swinging a few inches above the ground. “What do you want, Ji?”

Jiho, however, isn’t fazed. He’s still staring at the picture, even hopping a little to try to get another good look at it. “Why are you drawing our backyard?”

Letting out a small huff, Jiseok rolls his eyes. “Cuz I’m going to be an artist and I gotta practice to get really good so I can be famous!”

The younger only hums in response, quietly watching as Jiseok picks the picture up to inspect it, comparing it to the real landscape in front of him. Standing on his tiptoes, he finally asks, “I thought you wanted to be a policeman.”

Jiseok can feel the tips of his ears burn and the words catch in his throat before he can force them out. “Ah, w-well yeah I did. But I don’t wanna anymore because I want to be a famous artist instead.”

There’s a moment of silence where he can’t look at his brother, but then suddenly the table is shaking and Jiho’s shouts can be heard across the yard as he jumps and pounds on the table. “Oh-oo-oh-oh, hyung! That’s so cool! You’re gonna be famous! And I can tell everyone I got a famous artist for a brother! Wow!”

Then Jiho immediately stops moving, his eyes bright and his mouth open in silent glee. He surges forward to cling onto Jiseok’s arm and begs with the biggest pout he can manage.

“Hyuuung! Teach me how to draw too! Teach me, please! Hyung!”

Trying to keep a straight face, Jiseok basks in the surge of confidence his brother gave him while he pretends to seriously think about it. But his lips twitch, giving him away, and he’s laughing as he attempts to scold Jiho for shaking the table and knocking his papers out of their pile. Dragging a chair over, he instructs him to sit down and places a blank sheet of paper in front of his bouncing brother.

“Okay, so I learned how to draw sailboats today so that’s what I’ll show you first.”

Jiho has to reposition himself in order to properly see the paper, bony knees pressed against hard metal in what Jiseok would consider an uncomfortable position, but the younger doesn’t seem to notice as he shakily tries to copy his older brother’s drawings. He is the picture of concentration, mouth pursed and nose scrunched as he draws wobbly sailboats and trees that look like cumulus clouds on sticks. While he is not the best, Jiseok can see the tiniest bit of progression in Jiho’s work, and he couldn’t be prouder.

Dreams of being a firefighter is all Jiseok can talk about two weeks later.

All thoughts of drawing slowly escape his mind as he gains a collection of firefighter movies and wears holes in his pants from repeated practices of crawling through the house to avoid the hypothetical smoke. His pencils and stacks of paper are replaced with toy hoses and firemen gear, and instead of appreciating the beauty of his backyard he is focused on preventing fires starting from the dry grass.

Jiho, thankfully, appears unfazed by his brother’s sudden change in career path, and really only seems to notice when Jiseok gifts him all of his mostly unused art supplies one afternoon. And while Jiseok has to avert his eyes when he greets his art teacher, he feels a little better after seeing the pure joy on his little brother’s face as he jumps up and down, a box of colored pencils clutched against his chest. 

Three days later, a jittery Jiho dashes into the living room and throws a sheet of paper on the coffee table before sprinting back to his room. Jiseok picks it up right as he hears the door slam, and the sudden swell of emotion catches him off guard.

He has legs longer than his entire torso and he is pretty sure that Jiho used every color in the box, but his focus is only on the giant smiles and held hands in the drawing. He has to resist the urge to let out a sniffle when he finally deciphers the title written in his little bother’s messy handwriting:

Best Hyung.

Jiseok still has the picture, faded and worn but tucked safely inside his wallet.

“Hey Ji! Catch!”

Jiho has enough time to look up from his homework before a heavy plastic bag hits him in the side of the head. He immediately thrashes around, letting out an undignified squawk before cradling his ear and whipping around to glare at his cackling brother.

“ing ow, hyung! Why’d you have to do that!”

 Jiseok is too busy laughing, one hand holding his stomach and the other clutching the back of the couch to keep him balanced. His booming guffaws echo off the room’s walls and turn Jiho’s ears pink. “Oh man, you always freak out when I do that!"

The younger lets out a frustrated growl and mimes choking his brother. “What the hell do you want! I’m busy!”

There’s a moment when Jiho can only see the top of the older boy’s head as he tries to calm himself down, but when they make eye contact Jiseok immediately flops back over the couch in a burst of giggles. Jiho retaliates by smacking the arm hanging next to him. “Stop laughing, hyung, or I’m leaving!”

Jiseok pops up, his lips still stretched in an amused smile. “Ah, you’re no fun! Just open the bag, grumpy!”

With a palm still pressed against his ear, Jiho drags the offending bag into his lap and peeks inside.

“Holy !” Both hands fly inside the plastic to pull everything out, and soon the room with filled with Jiho’s excited shouts of awe.

“Whoa! Hyung, how did you know I used this kind of copic markers?”

“Because you were still using the ones I gave you.”

“Are you even aware that you got me some of the best erasers I’ve ever used?”

“Ji, I took art class too I know what’s the best.”

“But did you know that these pencils are awesome because they are more for sketching than actually outlining, which—”

“Jiho, who was the first artist in the family? I know these things.”

 “Psh whatever, that was like over eight years ago.” Jiho rolls his eyes and glances back at his brother with a knowing smile. “Now what else is in here—”

The room immediately goes silent, and for a fleeting moment Jiseok is terrified that he might have bought the wrong brand. But then Jiho starts blinking rapidly, and there’s a small tremble in his bottom lip.

“Hyung.”

Jiho twists around to stare at his brother, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He still hasn’t let go of the large container of colored pencils in his hands. “Hyung, these cost—”

“Hey, do me a favor and don’t break these.” Jiseok reaches over and points out the title on the colorful tin. “See? Finest Artists’ Quality. They’re for real artists—professionals—so don’t be too hard on them, okay?” Jiho is still staring, and Jiseok makes sure to ruffle his hair before he gets off the back of the couch with an overly dramatic groan.

“Why?”

Jiseok chooses to concentrate on stretching out the kinks in his back over looking at his brother. He shrugs. “I figured you would need some more supplies before you went to Japan is all.”

He catches a tiny hitch and a quick exhale of “thank you” before arms envelope his torso and Jiho’s head burrows into his chest. Jiseok chuckles and awkwardly pats him on the back, lightly teasing him for his show of affection, but he can’t get rid of the grin that stretches across his face.

"Hello?"

Jiseok doesn't know how he even heard his ringtone over the thumping music, considering that the beat is still ringing in his ears and he can still clearly hear the lyrics despite stepping outside. He stumbles a little, nearly spilling his beer, and curses as he stomps his feet and slouches against the cold. "Hello?" He repeats, not caring to hide the annoyance in his voice, glancing longingly back at the girls doing body shots.

"Hyung?" The voice cuts through his haze, and Jiseok blinks.

"Jiho? Why are you calling me? Isn’t it like three am there too?” He knows he should be nicer, should try to mask his irritation better, but Jiseok finds he doesn’t care enough. When he hears a mumbled stutter of “yeah”, he rolls his eyes and takes a deep gulp of his beer, hungrily eyeing the exposed skin through the window. “Then what do you want? Did something happen?”

“N-no, nothing bad happened, it’s just, uhm, it’s—“

Barely suppressing the groan bubbling in his throat, Jiseok angles the phone to try to make sure Jiho can hear the blasting music, itching to end the call. “Ji, come on man. I’m busy, what is it?”

“Oh, uh, I can al-always call back, hyung. Uhm, it’s nothing don’t worry about it—“

Jiseok actually does groan this time, eyes pinching shut as he clutches his cup tighter. Because Jiho’s voice pitched at the end before cracking a little, and he knows damn well what that means. Sighing, he steps away from the window and leans against the brick, pulling his jacket tighter around him. “Jiho, hurry up and tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s just—I just—hyung. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I’ve got two projects due on Friday and I don’t have a ing clue what I’m going to do for one of them and at the same time I have a ing essay due that day that I’ve almost finished but still. And for one of them my teacher isn’t helping at all! She keeps telling me that I’ll figure it out but I don’t know what to do I’ve changed my mind like fifteen times already and she doesn’t seem to ing care that I’m struggling and it’s hard! I hate this, hyung, I hate this stupid of a teacher and I hate this class and I don’t know what to do!”

Jiseok’s mind races to keep up with the words that tumble of his brother’s mouth, even covering his exposed ear to try to hear better. But he still misses most of it, especially when he gets distracted by the loud laughter from inside. Turning to the window again, he tries to piece together what Jiho’s problem is, but his mind is moving too slow and he struggles with what to say next. “Wait, Ji, I don’t get it. What the hell do you want me to do about this?”

There’s no response, and Jiseok has to double-check the screen to make sure that Jiho didn’t hang up on him. When the silence continues, he curses and is ready to end the call so he can finally get back to the party, his gaze once again falling on the dancing girls.

But then the speakers explode with a loud, broken sob that freezes his blood and nearly stops his heart.

He doesn’t bother to say his goodbyes and is already in his car, driving with shaking hands as he listens to his little brother fall apart on the phone, over seven hundred miles away in Japan.

Jiseok stays on the call until five in the morning, even though he’s got class in two hours, and painstakingly tries to piece Jiho back together as well as he can over the phone. He refuses to hang up, eyes refusing to close, until Jiho finally hits inspiration for his project and is the first one to end the call. Jiseok could hear the obvious excitement and relief in his voice, and he smiles before finally nodding off.

Even so, his pulse doesn’t slow down until Jiho sends him a picture of his completed project right before he walks into class.

His heart swells when, a week later, Jiho texts him a picture of the A he received for the project, along with the notes of praise the teacher wrote underneath the grade.

Staring down at the pile of books on the coffee table, Jiseok curses himself for waiting until the last few days of winter vacation to start his homework. He knows that he should have been reviewing for his upcoming test or even working on his paper that's due in a week, but the freedom of the break got to him, and instead of studying Jiseok stayed up through the night playing video games. Rubbing his eyes, he allows himself to at least feel some pride for finally beating the boss battle before he reaches over and picks up his laptop, intent on at least finishing the introduction on the paper he still hasn't done research for.

There's little noise in the room save for the low murmuring from the sportscasters narrating the game and his hesitant typing on the keyboard, so the thumps of Jiho's footsteps on the stairs seems particularly loud. The stomping breaks Jiseok's concentration, his fingers hovering over the keys while he watches his brother enter the living room and fall into the chair next to him. Jiho doesn't look at him, only slumps further into the cushions as he focuses on the television set, and Jiseok turns the volume up a little before returning to his laptop.

But his fingers are still frozen, completely forgetting about his paper as he tries to interpret his brother's mood. While the silence isn't unusual—trying to get Jiho to even smile after he wakes up requires an army—Jiseok can't help but notice the slumped shoulders and worryingly vacant expression when he glances over.

"You okay?"

"I did something last night that is considered a sin in the church." Jiho replies quickly. As if he had been rehearsing the line in his head, waiting for his cue. He has Jiseok's full attention, and the older boy shifts in his seat, laptop neglected as he waits for an explanation. His mind is already filling with everything and anything Jiho could be talking about, but his brother doesn't look at him, and Jiseok gets impatient.

"What the are you talking about? What do you mean, Jiho?" Quickly placing his computer on the table, Jiseok leans over and prods his brother's knee, hands gripping the leg as his anxiety rises. There are only so many sins and some of them deserve a lot more attention than others. "What happened? Hey, do we have to tell someone?" Then Jiseok notices that Jiho's lips are quivering, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip and his body is trembling. He's still refusing to look at him and now Jiseok can't help but jump to conclusions. Nerves shot, he moves closer to the chair and shakes the thin legs again. "Jiho! What—"

"Park Kyung!"

Jiseok pulls back in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. "Your old friend? What about him?"

Jiho explodes. Staring down at shaking hands that clutch his sweatpants with an iron grip, he explains.

"Park Kyung. We never lost contact—we've been talking to each other the whole time we've been abroad—he's in a school in New Zealand right now. We've been hanging out a lot the whole break and we went to the movies yesterday because he wanted to see...uh..." Jiseok watches as hands fidget and pull at the frayed ends of his pants, Jiho's voice trembling just as much as those fingers. "Nevermind I don't even remember. But we went to see the movie and we had fun and then after we went out to eat at this place Kyung likes. Then we kinda just drove around for awhile until I took him back home but before he could get out of the car I-I—" Jiho fumbles, lips tripping over the words as he tries to blink away the glassiness in his eyes. He suddenly shifts; stiffly pulling his legs to his chest and resting his cheek on a knee, and Jiseok has an idea about what happened next. Finally Jiho lets out a long hiss. "I kissed him!"

His head snaps up; face pale with terror and knuckles white as he clutches his pants. When they make eye contact, he shrinks away slightly, flinching as his teeth bite down even harder on his lip. He's afraid, it's obvious, and while Jiseok should focus on comforting his brother, he can't help the overwhelming sense of relief that washes over him.

“Dude.” With a long sigh, he falls back into the couch and runs a hand over his face. "Seriously, Ji? That's it?" He can practically feel Jiho bristle next to him, and he watches him sit up in the chair.

"What do you mean 'that's it'? Hyung, I kissed a guy! That's not right!"

Jiseok rolls his eyes. "No, what's not right is you nearly giving me a heart attack over your dramatic- opening. Come on, Ji, I thought you were going to tell me you did something illegal or some !" He pitches his voice, raising it to imitate his brother's tone. "'I committed a sin in the church'! I should punch you."

Jiho's mouth falls open and he stutters over his words. "B-but I did! That's exactly what they told us not to do in Sunday school, but I did it! Hyung—"

"Dude, you kissed the guy you've been crushing on since pre-school. Not that big of a deal."

Jiho freezes, eyes wide and mouth snapping shut. Jiseok doesn't look away, almost afraid to deny his brother this tiny bit of support. Finally, he slumps against the cushions, and Jiseok feels like he can breathe again when he finally sees calm hands and clear eyes.

A few minutes later, Jiseok picks his laptop back up when Jiho gets up, and gives a nod when his brother asks whether kimbap is okay for lunch.

Two weeks later, Kyung is formally introduced as Jiho's Boyfriend when Jiseok takes the two out for lunch before they have to leave for school. In-between talks of music and rants about teachers, Jiseok watches his brother use every chance he can get to be near Kyung, even resting his hand on the small of the boy's back as they laugh at one of his jokes.

And Jiseok doesn't miss the brightness in Jiho's eyes when Kyung shows off the picture that Jiho drew him.

The second Taewoon steps across the threshold his mother pounces, wrapping her arms around his torso and babbling about how excited she is to see him, how much she's missed him, and look at how much he's changed!

"Oh, my little Jiseok!"

Her hands fly up to cover and Taewoon laughs at just how scandalized she looks.

"Mom, it's okay. It's only been a month! You'll get used to calling me ‘Taewoon’ soon enough." He hugs her again before moving further into the house, dropping his suitcase in the living room before bounding into the kitchen to check the pots. Lifting the lid, he inhales deeply and makes a show of sighing appreciatively at the wonderful smells much to his mother's amusement. "Don’t laugh at me! I will fully admit that I missed your cooking! I'm not afraid to admit that!"

Chuckling, she slaps at her son's hands and ushers him away from the stove, picking up the chopstick to stir the pot. The kitchen fills with a comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from the soft clinking of metal and Taewoon's soft humming as he heads to the table. With a long groan, he slumps in his chair and closes his eyes, enjoying the one moment of comfortable stillness that he hasn't experienced since he signed up as a trainee.

However, something pricks at his mind, and he shifts a little before propping one eye open to look at his mom. "Hey, isn't Jiho supposed to be coming home too?"

Taewoon's other eye opens when he sees his mother freeze and her shoulders stiffen. The silence thickens, and he slowly sits up in his chair. Twirling around, the mother folds her arms and fixes her son with a glare that makes him flinch. "You know, your younger brother seems to think he's a rapper too."

Blinking a few times, Taewoon laughs, relaxing again and tapping at the table, a proud smile spreading across his lips. "Oh, that's it? Yeah, he's already told me about it! He's showed me a couple of his tracks. I mean he's got a little work to do but he's got some talent. I think him and Kyung even came up with stage names or something. It's kinda cute." His grin turns mischievous. "Like rapping boyfriends, or something."

When he spots the small wisp of a smile on his mom's lips at the mention of Kyung, Taewoon thinks he's in the safe. Her shoulders relax, and she breathes a sigh of relief. "So it's still like a hobby then. Good. Jiho nearly gave me a heart attack when he tried to tell me that he was going to make it a career."

She turns back to the stove, content with his answer, but Taewoon is left confused. Shifting a little, he leans on the table and hesitantly asks, "What are you talking about? He's already auditioned for my company."

"What!"

The loud banging of the pots falling against the burner is drowned out by the mom's loud cursing as she chucks the chopsticks and turns around, slamming her hands on the counter. "Are you serious, Jiseok?!"

Taewoon immediately sits up, back ramrod straight, and bewildered anxiety seeps into his veins. "Yeah? I'm surprised he didn't tell you any of this…and it's Taewoon."

Slapping the counter lightly, she huffs. "He probably didn't because I told him that I don't want him doing that!"

"What, why? He's good!"

The mom recoils, almost backing away from the counter as if it burnt her, and throws her arms up. "Jiseo-Taewoon! Did you forget what we went through for the first two years of his life? All the surgeries? And he has asthma! Hell, the school had to call and tell me that he just had an asthma attack last week! I've heard him—you've heard him rap, he goes way too fast and it's going to strain his throat. He shouldn't be doing things that are going to put him in danger!"

Taewoon scoffs and rolls his eyes, a rush of annoyance flashing through him. "Oh, come on. The poor guy has been through enough already, this isn't going to hurt him!"

"Yes, it will!" The mother leans over the counter and points an accusatory finger at her son. "Besides, he's been wasting too much time on this! He's not doing his work anymore. His grades are slipping, and he won't pick up the phone when I call him. It's a good thing Kyung lets me know how he's doing, but even he won't go into details!" She slaps the surface again. "It's fine and all if you want to pursue this. You're older. You've graduated. But Jiho hasn't. He still has a few years left and I'm not letting him get sidetracked when he should be focusing on something that we know he can succeed in!"

"I can't believe you!" Taewoon shoots out of his chair, face red with anger and body shaking in disbelief. "What makes you think he won't succeed in this? Jiho is smart, and can be a good rapper if he tries!"

His mom looks ready to fire back a retort, but he is too quick, already shouting out the words before she can open . "Mom, you can't protect him forever!"

She freezes, mouth tightening into a thin line and hands gripping the edge of the counter. "I may not be able to, but you can! He looks up to you! Why else do you think he started rapping? He sure as hell didn't get it from Kyung!"

"So you're blaming me?"

"Oh Lord you’ve got to be—no!" The mother looks ready to rip her hair out and cry, and Taewoon feels a split second twinge of guilt before he reminds himself of what they're arguing about. "I'm trying to get you to understand that you need to talk to him! Let him know that he can't just blow off his grades and fool around! He won't talk to me about it anymore, but he'll listen to you!"

"I'm not doing that!"

"Oh come on, Jis-Taewoon. Be responsible! Listen to your mother and guide your brother!"

"NO!" Taewoon's fist collides with the table, the banging echoing through the kitchen. His mother doesn't flinch. "Don't you see what you're doing? No wonder he doesn't talk to you because you're suffocating him! Jiho's good, he's good enough to get into a company and make it big, and you should be supporting him! I don't get it! You let him go to some art school in another country but you can't accept that he wants to be a rapper?"

His voice sounds shrill even to him, and it bounces off the walls almost mockingly as he watches his mother deflate before him. Suddenly fear grips him, makes him worry that he's gone too far—knows he's gone too far because he's never once yelled at his mom like that. But then she sighs and nods, and Taewoon doesn't know how to take the small smile she throws at him.

"Fine...fine. You're right. Just...promise me you'll look after him still."

The mood changes, and Taewoon loosens up as the electricity in the air fizzles out. Shifting from foot to foot, he mimics his mother's nod and ventures, "I'll talk to him about his grades, if anything. Let him know he can't lose focus with school." He pauses, briefly biting his lip before continuing. "But don't take this away from him, mom. He needs this."

She scoffs and rests her hands on his hips, fixing him with a soft glare. "I understand, Taewoon." Then her lips curve into a smirk, and she turns back to the stove. Picking up the chopsticks, she throws them into the sink, pulls out a fresh pair, and begins brainstorming potential side dishes.

Taewoon moves to sit back down, resting his elbows on the table and even throwing out a couple of his own favorite dishes when he catches something out of the corner of his eye. He turns in time to see a relieved smile before his brother jumps out from behind the wall and loudly makes his entrance, swinging his luggage bag onto the floor to pick their mom up by the waist for a hug.

“Hey, the best of the best is now home! What’s for dinner?”

"Come on, guys! Use your time wisely! Noona, please finish Sungmin's make-up quickly!" SPEED's manager flits from group to group, nervously assessing each member's completion. His movements become jerky, his voice shakes the longer he frets, and by the time he's reached Taewoon he's wiping the dripping sweat from his cheek and breathing way too harshly. When he sees him sitting on the couch with his phone and completely dressed, the manager's entire body crumples from relief and he grins. "Taewoon! This is exactly what I needed to see. Good on you as the leader to take responsibility to being prepared first!"

Taewoon doesn't respond, merely gives a hesitant laugh along with a wavering smile, and the manager is quick to step in front of him to block his image from everyone else in the room. Bending down, he grips the leader's shoulder and gives it a small shake. "Listen, I know you're freaking out. You're not on the old stuff anymore—you're about to perform the new song. I get it. It's nerve-wracking as hell!" Taewoon nods absently, and tries to discreetly clasp his hands to stop their trembling. But the manager notices and he reaches out to take hold of one of them. "But you've got to calm down. You're the leader, you need to show that your anxiety isn't affecting you as much as it is; otherwise you're going to upset everyone. Especially Taeha." He throws a meaningful glance behind him, and Taewoon frowns when he takes in the singer's pale face. "Remember: you did an awesome job on this album. The fans are excited, the group is excited, and you have no reason to worry. You guys have been practicing this for months. We believe in you."

The manager gives him one last solid clap on the shoulder when Taewoon smiles at him, and quickly moves away to check on the other members again. His lips droop the second the manager turns around, and lets out a trembling exhale as his head flops over. Carefully dabbing at the small beads of sweat already forming underneath the brim of his hat, he tries to calm both his heart and hands when he picks up his phone again. The screen still shakes and it takes him a moment to realize that he has a new text alert from his brother.

The second Taewoon opens the message, he's laughing, tears forming in his eyes as he springs up from the couch and runs over to show off the picture Jiho sent him. It's a rushed drawing, possibly even done on a napkin, of all the members as caricatures. Jiho wasn't kind, exaggerating everyone's dominant features to the point of cruel hilarity, and the room fills with laughter as everyone takes a look, each calling out their favorite parts of the drawing.

"What! My forehead isn't that big! You need to remind your brother we know where he lives, hyung!"

"Look at Sejoon's eyebrows! Holy , Jiho nailed them!"

"Taewoon, I think he made you look the worst! That's hilarious, what a !"

"O-oh man, hyung! You gotta send that to me!"

The laughter continues, and Taewoon watches as the members' faces light up and their bodies finally relax. Pride swells up in him as he takes in their excitement, and he couldn't be happier for his group. They have come a long way from their debut, becoming more confident in their abilities and their personalities, and the leader is amazed at how close-knit the seven of them are. Staring at the delight on their faces, he couldn't imagine being with any other group.

The manager looks on from the side with a grin, and chuckles as he claps his hands and ushers the boys away from the phone.

"Okay, enough guys! We've got five more minutes before you go on! Noonas, check them over one more time please. Boys, put your stuff away and get up to the back stage! Let's go!"

As the cordi-noona double-checks his hair underneath his hat, Taewoon sends a quick message to his brother before preparing to turn off his phone. His finger hovers over the power button right as he receives another text and— ignoring the advice to hurry— he swipes his thumb across the screen and opens up the message.

It's obvious that Jiho spent a lot more time on this drawing. Although Taewoon doesn't even know how his brother would have found the time, especially since the "Focus" music video was only posted a few days ago. But the shading is impeccable; his face standing out in stark contrast against his black beanie and "Defend Paris" hoodie, and Taewoon almost feels as if he's looking into a mirror as he stares at the picture.

It takes him a moment to decipher the scrawled writing in the corner of the photo—Taewoon still can't believe how his brother's handwriting never improved in art school—but when he does, he nearly chokes and can't stop the large grin that spreads across his face. The manager yells at him to hurry up, and Taewoon quickly turns off his phone and throws it on top of his coat before leaving the room. Leading the other six to the side of the stage, Taewoon takes a moment to share a quick encouraging smile before smoothing down his cape and pressing his top-hat further on top of his head with steady hands. There's no thought of anxiety as the curtain parts and he takes the first step onto the stage.

Figured you'd need another picture after your wallet got stolen. I'll give it to you in person.

So here's Best Hyung 2.0.

Hyung, Fighting!