"What's that?" Mark asked as JinYoung sorted through some papers on the table. He had returned from his 'date' with MiRa a little while ago and after a cursory greeting to his boyfriend, had set about unpacking the papers from his bag. It was later than usual—JinYoung had been gone for four hours this time. Mark tried not to be annoyed, but he had come home after two hours not wanting JinYoung to have to wait for him and had ended up spending two hours alone. If he had known...

"Oh, these are just some song lyrics MiRa wanted me to look through. I think she really has talent. She sang me some of her songs and they're really good," JinYoung said animatedly.

"So why are you looking through them?" Mark asked.

"She sometimes needs help with lyrics. Just some cleaning up here and there. Also, there are a couple of songs that are really incomplete. She wanted me to see if I could help her out with those. Also, she wrote a couple of new pieces for a male voice and wants me to pen some lyrics for them. I think she wants me to sing them. She said she really likes my voice," he smiled.

Mark felt crushed. JinYoung really loved singing and he hadn't had much of a chance to do anything with music since they left university, except for the occasional visit to a local karaoke place. When he was at university, he had access to the recording suite in the music department and he would spend hours there working on original music. Sometimes, Mark would even create rap sections for their songs. Their voices went so well together. Sometimes they would kid about forming a duo and breaking into the music business. Creating music had never been Mark's thing; he preferred dancing to it, but it became his thing, all because of JinYoung.

Now, JinYoung was sharing it with someone else. And not just anyone else.

MiRa.

How is it that Mark was starting to feel like a fifth wheel in his own relationship? He really wanted to talk to JinYoung about how he was feeling, but he didn't want to sound like a whiny, insecure boyfriend. What exactly was the problem with JinYoung sharing his interest in music with a friend? Nothing. So how could Mark even bring it up without sounding insecure?

He couldn't.

So, he just made a pot of JinYoung's favourite tea, while his boyfriend started writing lyrics for MiRa's songs.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

YoungJae was crawling into his bed. It had been a long day. He'd started at 6am and worked a full shift and overtime. He'd barely had time to wash and tidy up before meeting Mark at seven.

He would rather have met with him on another day; Friday's were always hectic at work, but he knew Mark would have to be alone tonight for hours while JinYoung was out on another of his 'dates' if they hadn't got together. Besides, Mark sounded like he really needed to talk to someone, and for some reason, that someone couldn't be JinYoung.

When he saw Mark, he noticed that he was looking just a little bit haggard. It wouldn't have been anything just anyone would notice, but YoungJae was more observant than most people. It wasn't anything specific. It was just that Mark didn't look himself. And every time YoungJae had run into him over the last couple of months, he looked less and less like the happy-go-lucky Mark he'd been used to seeing. So, even though he was almost shattered after such a long day at work, he showered in cold water to revive himself, downed a cup of strong coffee and then went out to dinner with his friend.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I know we both agreed to this plan and it seems to be working: at least JinYoung isn't being nagged anymore. With this smokescreen, our parents won't find out about us, so that's the perfect solution, right? So why do I feel so miserable?"

YoungJae reached across the table and patted Mark's hand. He knew Mark didn't need him to offer any advice. He just needed someone to listen so he could get these feelings off his chest.

"Why do I feel like she's replacing me? This whole thing is supposed to be for us to stay together in peace, but every time he brings her up, I feel myself seething inside. I just feel like shouting, 'Stop talking about her! Just shut up! I don't want to hear any more about her!' But I can't. I'd just sound like some sort of jealous jerk. Why don't I feel like I can trust him? Or her?"

YoungJae felt that this was an invitation to take part in what had up until now, been chiefly a one-sided conversation.

"Are things the same between the two of you? Personally, I mean," he started.

"Yes...I guess so," Mark replied tentatively. "He treats me the same, I suppose. But he just talks about her so much. And it didn't help my spending the day with her."

"Why? What happened?"

"She wasn't what I'd expected. I thought she'd be one of those spoiled brats in gaudy high heels and a skirt so short you could see what she'd had for breakfast, but except for a couple of missteps, she was practically perfect."

"What do you mean, 'missteps'?" YoungJae asked.

"Well, sometimes her inner diva came seeping out, but mostly, she was pretty cool. I suppose what I'm saying is that, if JinYoung and I weren't together, I think she would be the sort of woman he could fall for," Mark admitted. And the thought of this made him ache inwardly.

"But, you are together," YoungJae reminded him. "JinYoung-Hyung is doing this so that you can stay together without your parents giving you both a hard time, right?"

"Yes," Mark conceded. "I know that... . I know that," he repeated almost to himself.

"Hyung, life can be really hard, believe me, I know. But until trouble starts, maybe you shouldn't go looking for it. I know it's hard to hear him talk about her all the time, but they've just started being friends. After a while, everything will calm down and settle into a routine. Until then, maybe you should try to endure. If JinYoung-Hyung gets the feeling he can't talk to you about what's going on on these dates, don't you think you'll feel worse? As long as he's being open about it, nothing strange can be going on, right? If he starts clamming up, that's when it might be time to worry," YoungJae counselled.

"I know you're right, Jae-Jae-ah." Mark squeezed his friend's hand. "I'm glad I talked to you. You always make sense."

"Anytime, Hyung," YoungJae smiled in reply.

"But, will you let me complain and rant on a bit more?"

"Of course, Hyung. As much as you like."

Because he was able to get all of his complaints and concerns off his chest by unloading on YoungJae, he was able to endure JinYoung's new pastime of working on music with MiRa without blowing up and possibly alienating his boyfriend.

Later that night, Mark and JinYoung slept contentedly wrapped in each other's arms after sharing countless soft and passionate kisses and sweet whispered words of love. The last thing each of them saw before they slipped off into the land of slumber, was the deep and abiding love in the other's eyes.

YoungJae was indeed a walking miracle.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

"Took them long enough," JinYoung said as he looked at the screen of his phone.

"What?" Mark asked.

"Jackie's engaged," JinYoung announced.

"No, really. It IS about time," Mark smiled in agreement.

JinYoung and Mark had received a text from Jackson, announcing his and GaYeon's engagement. Those two were suited to each other, no one ever doubted they would end up together. When Jackson first saw her fight, he was hooked.

A friend of his from the fencing team asked him to go to a MMA competition and since he was at a loose end that weekend, Jackson had agreed.

When he saw GaYeon, he was entranced. She was so small, yet her face was filled with determination and focus. She was tough.

This was what he liked about athletic women. She didn't care about how she looked. When she tried to lock up her opponent in a wrestling hold, she didn't care how grimacing made her face looked. She attacked with power and defended skilfully. Jackson nearly went hoarse cheering for her.

She won the match.

His teammate wanted to take him to meet her afterwards, but after making this suggestion, he was treated to a side of Jackson he had never seen before.

Jackson transformed into a painfully-shy, unconfident child at the mere thought of meeting GaYeon.

"I can't! I can't!" he insisted trying to wrest his wrist out of the death grip his teammate had on him."

"You have to. I promised her I'd see her after the match."

"You what? You know her?"

Of course I do. Why else do you think I came?", he asked. "Now let's go. I don't want to keep her waiting. She gets really hungry after competitions. I promised to treat her to dinner."

"But, I can't," Jackson whined. "I really can't."

"That's too bad. We drove here together, so you can't leave until I do," his teammate said.

"I'll take the train. The bus. Anything. Just don't make me meet her," he begged.

"No can do, Jackson. Now let's go, or else I'll tell the whole team about this," he threatened good-naturedly.

"You wouldn't!" Jackson's reputation would be ruined. He would be ribbed for months. And there were a couple of teammates who were particularly ruthless. He'd never live it down.

"I would," he assured him. "Let's go."

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

"UGHH!" exhaled Jackson forcefully as GaYeon kicked him to the floor.

Ever since he'd started training at the same gym as his crush, GaYeon had been both 'crushing' him and teaching him the basics about twice a week.

Now she stood back from him, waiting for him to regain his composure before extending a hand to him to help him up.

"It's okay . . . . it's okay. . . . I'm okay now..." he puffed as he bent over at the waist. Beads of sweat flew as he shook his head trying to clear it.

"We don't have to keep going..." GaYeon assured him.

"No . . . . . I want to. . . . just give me a second . . . ."

It took about a minute for him to pull himself together, but then he was again fighting fit; his face set in determination.

GaYeon liked this side of him. He always tried his best when they trained and never gave up. It wasn't necessary for him to beat her, it was only good that he mastered the technique itself. As long as he executed the moves well, he was pleased with the training session. Once that happened, they could call it a night.

GaYeon was tempted to go easy on him, just so they could finish for the evening. She was really starving. But she knew that he would be able to detect any weakness in her attack—he was already so familiar with her style and her level of ability, he couldn't easily be deceived. So, instead she corrected his technique following every attempted blow or defensive move she'd introduced to him that session. At first, she had been reluctant to correct him too incessantly for fear that it would hurt his pride. But she came to find that he enjoyed being corrected: he wanted to be the best at whatever he did and if that meant being constantly corrected, then so be it.

GaYeon was also afraid that he would not respect her very highly since she was female. She had encountered her share of newbies who underestimated her just because she wasn't a guy. But, Jackson wasn't like that. He had respected her ability from the very start. So any suggestions she made for him to improve his performance, he accepted with humility.

"Okay, good session," she said finally, starting to remove her protective equipment.

"You don't have to take it easy on me. . . Seonsaengnim. I can keep going."

"Too much is just as ineffective as too little. I'll see you again on Monday," she instructed. As Jackson turned to head for the shower, she added, "you did really well today."

Jackson beamed at the compliment, smiling as he ran in the direction of the showers.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

Afterwards, Jackson joined the others waiting at the entrance. They usually went out for a meal after training, sometimes even going for a drink on weekend nights. It was Friday, so...

"I've got this round," Jackson declared.

"You can't pay, you're the dongsaeng. Don't you know anything about Korean drinking culture yet?"

"Let's do it Hong-Kong style tonight. Just this once. . . eh, Hyung? Hyuuuuuuuung..." he whined, unleashing his aegyo.

"This kid. . . "

The server brought another round of soju and everyone raised their glasses. Just then the fighter sitting next to GaYeon declared "love shot" and intertwined their arms. They both downed their drinks as Jackson looked on.

"Let's go get some snacks," the Hyung next to him suggested. Jackson showed no response as he continued to eye the fighter sitting next to GaYeon.

"I said . . . let's. get. some. snacks."

Jackson finally turned to his hyung, GiKyung, and noticed the firm expression on his face.

He got up.

As they leaned against the bar, GiKyung put his arm around Jackson's shoulder.

"So, you like her?"

"What?" Jackson was all set to deny everything, when GiKyung asked, "or is it SungHyun you like?" referring to the fighter seated next to her.

"No! I like her!" her blurted out. When he realized what he'd admitted he started trying to stammer his way out of it.

"Too late. I knew anyway. I'm sure everyone knows by now," GiKyung said.

"What? . . . Ohhhh..." Jackson groaned as he leaned his head against the edge of the bar. Everyone included GaYeon, right? She must think I'm complete idiot. He groaned inwardly again at the thought.

"Everyone, except GaYeon," GiKyung assured him.

"Are you sure?" Jackson asked hopefully.

"Yeah. She's pretty oblivious when it comes to that sort of thing. She only thinks about fighting. And she actually doesn't think she's that great. Either as a fighter or a person. Unlike you, I think she has a problem with confidence."

"A fighter can't have a problem with confidence if they want to win," Jackson responded.

"Hmmm, maybe I put that wrong. I mean, she thinks she can win if she trains hard, but she doesn't think there's anything really special about her. She just thinks she wants it a lot, works hard and that that will pay off. But she doesn't think anything particular about herself. She just thinks she loves it so much that she doesn't want to do anything else. And since she's doing it, she may as well do it well," GiKyung explained.

Jackson didn't really understand it. In everything he'd ever pursued, he'd always imagined reaching the top. He was the type of person who would stand in front of the mirror practicing his acceptance speech if he'd ever wanted to be an actor. He didn't understand how anyone could be self-deprecating and a champion at the same time.

But, even though he couldn't relate, he admired her attitude as she pursued her dreams. He admired her, but he more than admired her...

"Can you keep that a secret?" he asked GiKyung.

"You mean continue to keep it a secret? Sure."

"But . . .why doesn't she like me?"

"What makes you think she doesn't like you?"

"She's never said anything."

GiKyung was sincerely flabbergasted.

"Said something? What do you expect her to say?"

"Well, she's always direct enough when we're training. She tells me exactly what she wants from me, tells me off, kicks my . . . she's not exactly what I would call 'shy and retiring'. If she liked me she would have let me know by now," Jackson clarified.

GiKyung slapped his forehead in exasperation. Was this kid kidding or what?

"That's during training, but, otherwise, I just told you how she is. She doesn't think guys like her like that. And even if she did, when it comes to that kind of stuff she's incredibly shy."

"Shy?" he asked incredulously.

Past traumatic training sessions danced before his eyes.

Keep your hands up! UP! That's the first sign of fatigue! Do you want your opponents to beat your brains out?! she shouted.

Your feet are getting sluggish! Light on your toes! Light! Dance, Jackson! Stop broadcasting how tired you are! MOVE! she barked.

"Not when it comes to training: then she's an animal. But, when it comes to, you know, love stuff. Take my advice, if you like her, tell her. She'll never figure it out on her own."

Two weeks passed, but still Jackson was unable to make any move in the direction of telling GaYeon how he felt about her.

So, finally...

"Where is everybody?" he asked arriving at the front.

The only person there was GaYeon.

"Everybody seems to have something to do this evening. So I guess it's just you and me. Unless you don't want to..." she said.

"No! . . . no. The two of us? Sure! No problem!"

Get yourself under control, Wang. You're acting crazy, he thought to himself.

Dinner started out awkwardly as Jackson felt himself drowning in a sea of nervousness. And who could blame him? Here he was finally alone with the woman he'd admired for months now. But when GaYeon didn't seem to notice and just kept being her usual composed and natural self, Jackson started feeling himself calm down. By the time they were halfway through dinner, he'd already started feeling comfortable. Once they got to the stupid jokes competition, he had well loosened up.

When the evening was at an end, they had to take buses in separate directions. He walked her to the bus stop. They sat next to each other at the shelter waiting. He looked down at her hands, then at his own. He wanted to reach out and hold her hands, but didn't have the nerve.

When the bus finally arrived, he got on with her.

"You don't have to accompany me home. I'm a fighter. I can take care of myself, remember?"

"That's not why I want to go with you," he said as the doors closed behind him and the bus pulled off.

As he sat next to her in seats at the back, he said, "I know you don't need me to protect you, GaYeon-Noona. I just don't . . . want this evening to end yet."

She turned to look at his face. His voice had sounded sincere, but he didn't often call her Noona, so he was probably just kidding. This was Jackson after all.

But, as she looked into his eyes she could see that he wasn't kidding.

And, as he looked in her eyes, he finally worked up enough nerve to reach over and take her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers.

As they stood in front of her door, GaYeon said, "Now it's going to be so late when you get home. You'll text me to let me know you got home alright, right?

"I'll text you."

Neither of them moved.

"Well, goodnight," GaYeon said.

"GaYeon," Jackson said softly. Then he reached for her and embraced her warmly.  She raised her arms and hugged him closer.

They stood together holding each other until Jackson, unable to hold back his feelings for her any longer, breathed timidly against her ear, "I . . . . I . . . "

"I know . . . . me, too," she smiled in response.

Then Jackson shifted so that he could look deeply into her eyes. When he saw the affection she felt for him and her unquestioning acceptance of what he felt for her, he gained the courage to move purposefully forward, tenderly capturing her lips with his own.

This, however made no difference to their training regimen.

And GaYeon continued to kick his regularly.

As for the rest: that, as they say, is history.

Next chapter: The Engagement Party