So for several reasons that I don't remember, I didn't use this plot line. I kind of regret it but I'm going to post it anyway because it's a learning process for me, my goal is to get better and put my work out there so that I can get help and see what I did wrong so.... Here we go. [This will be me commenting.]

"So what was it like working for him?" [The reader was supposed to catch on to the fact that this waas an interview with Chansung after Junho's scandal outbreak or whatever they call it.]

The first time I met Junho he was a jittery mess. 

"C'mon Mr. Kim. I don't need a body guard." [I had this image of a rough around the edges Nuneo, beat up  leather jacket, crooked smile and that grown up in body but young in logic kind of guy. Very cute but unpredictable.]

"Yes you do."

"I don't. I'm just a supporting actor, this is silly."

"Anything can become an obsession, that's one thing I've learned Junho."

"Alright... Hey." He turned to me, this look of pure uncertainty on his face.

"Hello." Formal, always formal.

"Chandung, right? Name's Junho but you can call me Nuneo."

"Junho's fine, sir." My abrupt answered seemed to ruffle his feathers and he bit his lip, screwing his eyes up a bit.

"What? Okay, cool. Uh... Yea." He turned to face Mr.Kim again, the same exact look on his face.

"What do I do with him?"

"Nothing. He just keeps you safe, unless you want him to screw you. [This was not in the original write up. But Kim is a scumbag and I wanted it to be obvious.]" My client went pale and looked as if he was abput to choke on his own saliva so I intervened.

"ual relationships with our clients are prohibited. Platonic relationships aren't encouraged either."

"Okay.... That's alright. Wasn't asking." He started patting down his pockets and pulled out a crushed pack of cigarettes. "You got a light?"

"No, sir." [Mean, cold and secretive Chansung. My poor little heart.]

"ing..." he started searching his pockets again until Kim tossed him a Zippo which he barely caught before taking about 5 tries to light up. I held back a gagging noise as a cloud of smoke hit me in the face. [In the movie Joon is trying to light the cigarette and the lighter is a nasty little er and it takes him a couple tries. It threw me off a bit.]

"Sorry 'bout that. So, Chan, what do you like to do?"

"Work, sir."

"Well aren't you just a barrel of monkeys?" he mumbled under his breath, probably assuming that I couldn't hear him. "And drop that sir thing, it makes me feel old."

"Yes, s- Junho."

"Baby steps. Baby steps." he mumbled, ash falling to the ground as he spoke. [Junho getting used to the fact that he basically has someone serving him, lovely.]

"He didn't seem like the type of person to do what he did..."

No matter what color carpet it was, Junho was a sight for sore eyes. His smile was blinding and his eyes were blinded since they seemed to disappear everytime he flashed his incisors. As soon as he reached over to me though, his face fell and he'd hold out his hand like he wanted me to feed him.

"I don't think this is the best time."

"Jesus, Chan.  Just let me have one." [Smoking is a bad habit. I don't codone it.]

"I can't, I'm sorry."

I ushered him into the theatre and took the seat directly behind him. He turned around long enough to look at me and growl but I ignored it, keeping my eyes on him while he watche dwith little interest unless he was on screen. It was always a facade with him and I thought it always would be.

"What did you hate the most about him?"  [Saucy reporter wants the details.]

"Kim. You know how he gets at these things." In that horrible croaky voice he replied with a "Hmph. Just watch him." and shrugged. I held back  from rolling my eyes and entered into where the after party was being held, the air thick with heated alcohol breath, smoke and whatever scent public PDA gave off. Now, where was he? There he was, drinking and dancing at the same time,making a complete fool of himself. He wouldn't leave until the party was over, always with someone. Anyone. Always drunk off his , incapacitated in every way possible. If he was feeling particularly masculine he'd drag some unsuspecting girl into his hotel room and do what could only be described as a lion attack a small domesticated rabbit and then stumble out of the room while still getting redressed, motioning for me to follow. I could onlyglance back and make a mental apology while she struggled to zip back up her dress with vodka-immobilized fingers.

But.

If he was feeling sorry for himself, I'd have to deal with him being dragged by his hair into the most digusting of bathrooms and stand guard while he wailed aboiut his mom hating him and how he was a diappointment to his dad all while being basivally slammed into a wall and ed at the same time.

"And his scandal. Couldn't you have prevented that, seeing as you were supposed to protect him and all?"

The possibility does exist [And this is where I stopped because I had no idea where to take this and I'm sorry. -cries-]