Chapter 1

The First Door - Complexed

8am; Sunday, 2nd February 2014

Incheon International Airport

South Korea

A dull layer of perfect grey clouds floated over to conceal the sun, like icy cold fingers pinching the shy flame on a burning candle. Faintly shining, transparent and white, was the leftover slice of the moon still marked in the sky like a dent. The begginning of the day was the end of another. Or at least it was for the handsome man who sat alone on a squeaky cheap Starbucks chair in Incheon International Airport. He was too familiar with the typical airport ambience of the robotically enunciated announcements, rushing travellers' sticky pacing footsteps, metallic clanks of colliding objects, shuffling buzzes of machinery, static rolling of suitcase wheels, laughter of excited children, beeping electronics, babies' gibberish, heavy sighing, clattering, whispers and goodbyes. After sending his friend a short text message reading 'I'm at the airport', he quietly waited for his flight, hiding behind a newspaper to disguise himself. He still had four hours until his flight to the Middle East was to depart, but he had been up all night and was afraid another day would hold him back. Besides his family, nobody knew he was leaving today. In one of the somewhat quieter corners of the building, the airport's Starbucks only had the one customer, so the nervous cashier left his desk to approach the mysterious man himself.

"Would you like to order, sir?" the waiter asked in English.

"I'll have a large chocolate frappuccino please," the man replied in Korean. He smiled under his trilby hat and sunglasses. Now, with dimples in his cheeks, he radiated a certain air - powerful, perfect and out of your league. It was overwhelming to just feel his gaze on you. The embarrassed waiter fumbled with the remote and turned up the volume of the TV placed right in front of his customer. It was the news channel. A woman on the screen was talking about a recent rumour. The man put his newspaper down, crossed his legs and folded his arms.

"Rumours are circulating that superstar of YG Entertainment, TOP has died in a car crash in Japan. The company has not disclosed any information regarding this matter. Netizens all over the world have expressed their shock but many refuse to believe it. Ever since the incident, the star has not been sighted anywhere in Japan or South Korea for that matter. Has TOP died? We are still waiting-"

"You're all over the internet, and now you're on TV about this whole car crash bull," a familiar rough voice made the man jump in his seat. He turned around to find his friend smiling at him with the hood of his hoodie pulled over his head.

"You're here? It's only been ten min-"

"Your sister called me first thing in the morning." His smile turned in to a slight frown. "Seunghyun, I'm not here to stop you," the man informed him as he sat down in the seat opposite to Seunghyun's.

"Well, that's a good thing, I didn't want to deal with a crying baby holding on to my legs, trying to stop me from leaving... I'm free now, Dongwook. My contract with YG is over. Everyone thinks I'm dead. I can finally breathe."

"I know. I know you hated that life and that's why I'm not going to stop you here," Dongwook leaned forward, "but you're young and your acting career has only just started and, well, you're loaded. Is this really the time to retire? You can still turn back."

"I've been planning this 'end' for almost a year now. I'm more than ready to disappear."

Dongwook looked hopelessly at his friend and decided to change the subject. "So where are you going to disappear off to, anyway?"

"Well," Seunghyun looked around as he also leaned in to reveal his secret, "I'm going to the Middle East."

"What?! Where in the Middle East, like Dubai?"

"Close, but not quite Dubai. I'm going to a little country south of the U.A.E. It's called Oman. I've booked a ing 14-hour flight for it."

"Okay... I'm just going to pray to god that you've got your sorted because I have nothing to say to that."

"Why? It's not a bad place. My dad has these old friends there. It's a Pakistani family, they kind of owe him one," Seunghyun explained. "They wanted to rent out their guest room because they needed someone to help around the house and some other small jobs."

"So you're going to work as a houseboy?" Dongwook had his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Not a houseboy... More like a lodger who just helps around. See, they have all these pets and a baby - Anyway, it's a different life to what I have now, and I'd rather live there than a five-star hotel. If I do stay at a hotel, they might recognise me. No one's going to suspect some guy staying with a family of four."

"How did you get a visa?"

"I had this all planned out, remember? My manager did it for me. He has some links with the Korean Ambassador in Oman."

Dongwook nodded, "Of course he did. I wonder how you'll manage without that hyung of yours."

"I'll survive, I just need to make it past the front door. I can rely on my natural charm for the rest of the journey."

The man in the hoodie sighed. "So how is this family letting you stay at their house? What if they ask for identification?"

"Relax, man, they're family friends...of some sort. They don't know that I'm TOP. In fact, nobody knows where the heck I'm going except for Dad and you."

"When are you coming back, then?"

"Well, I thought I'd settle down and wait until everyone forgets about me. Then I'll go traveling and . Maybe fall in love and get married...have a baby... Actually, I don't want to deal with a pregnant woman. Maybe we could adopt a baby, I'm sure there are plenty of those to go round."

Dongwook stared at the man in disbelief. "Right... Make sure you invite me to your wedding, then. Imagine if people knew your real name... It's a good thing you've been living on a stage name for the past...eight years?"

"Ah, here comes my frappuccino. Do you want to order something? I still have, like, four hours until I take off."

"I'm glad I can spend your last few hours in South Korea with you."

"Thanks, Dongwook. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Yeah, you'd probably end up blowing your cover and then come running back to Seoul with a new rumour going round the internet."

3pm; Sunday, 2nd February 2014

O.B.P. Power Company, Office Building

Seeb, Oman

Mr. Siddiqui sat on his classy leather desk chair to read his emails on the computer in front of him. He had grey hair, a clean shaven chin and a smart suit, and he looked like a Pakistani version of Jay Leno (only shorter and about 20 years younger - but people still liked to make the reference).

Dear Mr. Siddiqui,

It's been a long time since we've seen each other. I believe my father contacted you regarding my stay at your house a while back. Only recently, I realised that you have not been informed about my arrival in Muscat on Sunday, 2nd February. Attached are my flight details and contact information. As the file says, the flight is expected to arrive at around 9 o'clock. Since it is late, I can take a taxi to your house. Is it okay if I call you upon my arrival? I am extremely sorry for the short notice.

Thank you,

Choi Seunghyun

"BLOODY SHORT NOTICE?!" Mr. Siddiqui yelled. The short notice didn't affect Mr. Siddiqui at all; it was his family. He had completely forgotten to let them know about the whole guest room proposal. He had finalised this conversation with Mr. Choi (Seunghyun's father) six months ago and nobody had contacted him until now. The C.E.O. ran out of his office to get into his BMW and drive home instantly. A few problems crossed his mind as he was thinking:

1. My house is an hour's drive from here.

2. My son gets back from work at 6pm.

3. He only has three hours to persuade his son, who would never agree to this sort of thing anyway.

"As-salamu alaykum [*hello], Mr. Siddiqui!" The neighbour's child greeted him as he was about to turn his car into the driveway.

"Wa alaykumu s-salam [*hello], Ali, how are you doing?" Mr. Siddiqui replied. The family dog jumped excitedly up at the small gate to the lawn as he watched the familiar car drive in. Before Ali could answer, the man drove his car into the driveway and quickly parked it to get out and run to the door, ignoring his hyperactive dog's crazy spasms.

Mrs. Siddiqui peeked out from the kitchen window to see who had arrived. "As-salamu- [*hello-]"

"SHAZIA! GET THE GUEST ROOM READY! WE'RE HAVING A GUEST STAYING OVER TONIGHT!" Mr. and Mrs. Siddiqui spoke to each other in Urdu.

"What are you talking about?!" She closed the window, and after ten seconds, she came up to the front door and opened it to find Mr. Siddiqui smiling nervously at her. "What happened?" Mrs. Siddiqui was just over 170 cm tall. She was half Arab with lightly tanned skin and no make-up.

"Well...remember Mr. Choi?"

"Mr. Choi? We haven't heard from him in about twenty years..."

"Daadi-Ammi [*grandma]," a small voice called from behind Mrs. Siddiqui.

Mr. Siddiqui cleared his throat and spoke in English. "Hyejung beti [*sweetie], Daada [*grandpa] is home." The three-year-old Korean girl shyly stepped forward and smiled at her grandparents.

Around 6:30pm on the same day

Siddiqui household

A black car dropped off a small and slender figure in front of the house. He walked over to the front door with one hand searching for the keys in his pocket. "Hyejung baby, daddy's home!" A loud voice echoed through the hallways. The voice belonged to a young man who stood in the doorway with a messenger bag hung over his shoulder and a gym bag behind him. He was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and suit trousers. His body was short and slim, with clear tanned skin and bleached blonde hair combed back. As he dropped his bags at the entrance and took off his shoes, the smell of dinner reached his senses and he naturally followed the scent into the kitchen.

Mrs. Siddiqui greeted him, "Hello Jiyong, have a seat." She gestured towards the seat and Jiyong lifted his chin to see what was cooking on the stove placed at the far end of the room.

"What's for dinner?"

"Your favourite, stuffed chicken with mashed potatoes. I also made those little garlic bread veggie tubs that you like to eat as a starter." She added cheese into the mashed potatoes on the stove and mixed it around with a wooden spoon, one hand firmly holding the handle.

Jiyong smiled and sat down in his favourite seat next to the water cooler after pulling a glass out of one of the cabinets. "So what's the occasion?" he asked sarcastically, with a smug smile.

Mrs. Siddiqui sighed. "Your father needs to talk to you."

"What did he do?" Jiyong was quick to catch on. Mr. Siddiqui walked into the kitchen and greeted Jiyong before sitting down in the seat opposite to his son.

"What happened? Is it to do with Hyejung? You know I'll get a better job s-"

"Chillax, Jiyong, it's not a big deal..." he answered, to which Mrs. Siddiqui shot a dangerous glare. "By the way, I need my phone back. I'm expecting a call-"

Mrs. Siddiqui put down the spoon and walked over to th