Junsu was woken by the sound of curtains being nosily pushed aside and the voice of Junho shouting: “Rise and shine, little brother!” Junsu reached out for his alarm-clock, held it far enough from his face to be able to see it clearly and groaned: “It’s half past eight! You know I sleep in when I don’t have any urgent responsibilities.” “All the way up to the age of 18 you used to be the 1st one awake in the family in order to have time to play your video games before school,” said Junho, while Junsu pulled his blanket over his face to hide from the sunlight pouring in through the windows. “I have grown up a little since,” said Junsu, his voiced muffled by the blanket, “We’re the same age, remember?”

“I was gonna let you sleep, but you left your cell-phone in your jacket and it has rung 3 times already.” said Junho casually. “What?” Junsu pushed aside his blankets, but remained lying down. “Are you trolling me?” he asked suspiciously. “Woah, I’m always honest, even if it hurts – remember?” said Junho. “And since I’m nice I’m gonna go get it for you. You can stay in bed!” Junho added and left the room.

Junsu covered himself up with the blanket again and closed his eyes. He wanted to slip back into the dream he had been having. Now he couldn’t fully recall what it had been about, but there had been something with a terrace overlooking a city’s skyline and the feeling of complete comfort and relaxation. Now he recalled how strange the dream had been because there was nothing whatsoever hectic about it, no action, no other people, no moving from place to place. If he lay still in his warm bed and freed his mind from all thoughts, then he could just maybe slip back…

His cellphone’s ringtone startled him and he sat upright in his bed. “Told you someone’s been trying to reach you.” said Junho, handing over the phone. “I’ll be in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Take your time.” Junsu nodded thankfully and answered his phone, while Junho went into the kitchen.

“Yeoboseyo¹,” he said, still sleepy. On the other end he heard nervous laughter and then a man’s voice said: “Moshi moshi²? This is Yamaa calling for Pearl Station. We spoke a week ago.” Junsu face-palmed himself, as he slowly switched his brain to Japanese. “Ah, yes. This is Kim Junsu speaking. I arrived in Tokyo yesterday. Thank you for contacting me so fast.” “No no, thank you for flying over on such short notice!” said Yamaa-san. After a few pleasantries had been exchanged, Yamaa-san finally got to his point: “Our staff is hoping to welcome you to our company soon, so please let us know when you can come.” Junsu – not having anything on his schedule yet – offered to come over and see the company tomorrow already and after many thank-you's from both sides Junsu hung up exhausted.

“You just made another billion-yen deal and you’re making a face… I don’t get it,” said Junho over breakfast. Junsu finished chewing his toast and replied: “I’m impatient. And I know that making the contract is going to drag out for a while.” He passed a fresh toast to Junho and continued: “I want to make music now! I don’t like going through drinking sessions with elderly Japanese business men, being the only one that stays sober, until every form is finally signed.” “That’s what comes with being your own boss,” retorted Junho, putting jam on his toast, “I rely on my agent for everything. I don’t have to do any of that. And yes, sometimes I have no idea what event he just signed me up for, but it has always worked out so far.”

“Once I have gotten JYJ signed under Pearl Station, they’ll assign us agents and what not,” said Junsu, “But for now, it’s me and our Japanese lawyer preparing for a tide of paperwork.” “What about those bandmates of yours? They could be doing part of the work.” “Both busy with dramas.” “Well, if you need a time-out, let me know. We’ll go do something together.” “I’ll let you know – probably gonna happen very soon.” Junsu thought for a bit, then he said: “Wanna do something together today? I’m meeting the Pearl Station people tomorrow, but I got nothing going on today.” Junho sighed, “Sorry, bro. I’m busy. I wanted to take the day off, but I got a casting for a Japanese drama today. My agent’s gonna be furious if I don’t turn up and I’d really like the role.”

“A drama casting? Awesome! Of course you gotta go. What kind of drama?” Junho smiled: “It’s a drama-romance mix. It’s called “Snow Factory” and it’s kinda set in this dystopian future, where you either work for a big exploiting company or you starve. And it’s about the daughter of a company boss, who falls in love with a lowly employee. I have parts of the script and it’s basically about the employee’s struggle between keeping on the right side of his true love’s father to gradually win his approval and at the same time wanting to join in the strike of the other employees, who call for fair wages and working hours. It’s not the most amazing script of all time, but it’s decent and will be broadcasted on a pretty popular channel.” “Whether you get it or not – I’m proud already!” said Junsu admiringly, “Keeping it real: Are they looking for someone of your physique?” “Well,” said Junho scratching his head, “that’s a bit of a problem. They are looking for someone tall – I fit that criterion – but they already said during the pre-casting, that they’d like me to bulk down for the role. Which is gonna conflict with some of my modeling appointments…” “Yeah, keeping everyone happy can be a challenge,” said Junsu.

He thought for a moment. “When do you gotta head out? Wanna show me the script? I know a thing or two about acting and I can help you practice,” offered Junsu. Junho grinned: “Sure, if I can embarrass myself in front of you, it won’t be as bad later.” And he got up to get the script.

Junsu felt relieved that the mood between them was a lot less tense. It was good that they both had something to do. Something to aim at and work towards. He sincerely hoped Junho would get the drama role – on the one hand he wanted his brother to be happy on the other he welcomed anything that could stabilize their relationship.

He thought back to all the times they had talked, on the phone, on skype, face-to-face. How could he have missed bitterness developing between them? Would living together glue things back in place? He was determined to make that happen. Junho was the one person he had always been able to share things with. He wondered how he could have been so consumed in his own affairs, that he hadn’t even shared the news about Kyungah until recently with his twin brother.

On a happy note, the sting he felt at thinking Kyungah’s name was a lot less sharp than it had been for the longest time. Probably thanks to Junho.

Junho came back with two sets of paper. “Here you go,” he said and handed one of them to Junsu. “You’ll be Arina, the female main character. They have already found an actress for the role – Yui Nakamura³ – so during the casting they want to see how the chemistry between me and her is.” Yui Nakamura that rang some bells in Junsu’s mind. She had won some awards at an international acting awards ceremony he had been invited to about a year ago. He hadn’t talked to her personally, but from what he had heard and seen she was quite an impressive personality, who had managed to even talk the director of her drama into making script changes.

“Watch out for her,” Junsu said. “She’s an excellent actress and since it’ll be your drama debut, she’ll be your senpai and you’ll be doing things her way.” “Yeah, I heard that,” said Junho, “there just aren’t many Japanese dramas that’ll take on a Korean actor. “Snow Factory” was the only one who let me come to their casting.” Junsu sighed, “Yeah… that’s still common. So you wanna get started?” “Okay, you start.”

Junsu looked at his text and began reading character Arina’s 1^st line: “You shouldn’t have come here. It’s too dangerous. When it gets dark, it’s going to get too cold for you to make it home without freezing to death.” “Hey, you’re good!” said Junho, “That voice of yours can sounds real feminine you if you speak like that.” “Hey, your line!” commanded Junsu. “Okay, here goes: Forgive me, I couldn’t leave. I had to make sure that you were alright, ma’am. I know it’s not in my place to make any such decisions, but I felt it was my duty. I’ll leave at once,” said Junho. “Yes, yes,” said Junsu, “Exactly like that. Look down at your feet, except for the moment when you speak directly to her. Good! Okay, my turn: Jori! Wait! It’s too late. The sun is going down already. You must stay here.” “You know my name, ma’am.” “I do. I haven’t forgotten the time you saved my father’s life. I wouldn’t forget the name of the man my beloved father owes his life to. Hey, what are you laughing at?”

Junho had started grinning and finally burst out laughing at Junsu’s last few lines. “You really learned your acting in stage dramas,” he said, still chuckling, “You are way over the top. That’s not what a shy conservative lady sounds like. You sound like you are going to burst out into song!” “Maybe I am…” said Junsu, took a look at his next few lines and began singing them to a random melody that he made up on the way: “Joooriii-saaaan. You muuuusn’t go, or we wiiill find you deaaad in the moorning. I demand youu stay. Thaaat’s an ordeeer!”

“Man, you are scarier than I imagine Yui Nakamura!” laughed Junho, “Stop! Stop! If you go on, I won’t be able to contain my laughter, when I’m performing with her at the actual casting. Please stop.” Junsu stopped singing and the two brothers grinned at each other. “It’s good to have you back,” said Junho, “You manage to lighten up my mood like no other.”

“Good afternoon, Richi-chan!” yawned Ayame, as she stepped out of her bedroom, still in her pajamas. “Good afternoon, Onee-chan!” said Richardis, glad Ayame had woken up before her surprise meal started turning cold. “Woah… something smells burnt in here… were you cooking?” asked Ayame, inspecting her stove. “I wanted to surprise you… and I burnt something on my 1^st attempt. Gomennasai⁴, Ayame-chan! But look here, the meat turned out alright, the vegetables and sauce did, too … eventually!” said Richardis, pointing at the frying pan. “That does look good!” smiled Ayame, “I’m hungry! Shall we eat?” “Sure!”

Richardis and Ayame both filled their plates with Richardis’s cooking and sat down at the low living room table. “This is good stuff!” said Ayame, after she had eaten some, “You see, usually, I buy some cheap lunch box somewhere or I make myself a quick Ramen. I haven’t had any proper home cooked food in forever.” “I’m glad you like it!” said Richardis, slightly proud of herself, since she usually messed up her cooking. “It’s funny, though,” said Ayame, “your 1^st meal in Japan and we’re eating Indian.” Richardis chuckled, “Do you remember my 1^st lunch with your family when I was your host sister? Your parents took me to McDonalds!” “Yeah, I remember,” laughed Ayame, “And you ordered the Teriyaki burger to have something remotely Japanese on your 1^st day and then you didn’t like it at all!” They both laughed and continued eating.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Richardis, in-between bites. “When I came home from shopping, there was this guy waiting in front of your door.” Ayame looked up: “What guy?” “Well, too me he looked like a host and he introduced himself as Kenji Mori.” Ayame’s eyes widened and she let out a strange Ayame-unlike squeal. “What is it?” said Richardis worried. “Mori-san is… how can I describe him?” said Ayame, now dreamy-eyed, apparently having forgotten the food on her plate, “Mori-san is a top host in Roppongi, same area of Tokyo that I work and he’s also a scout. He pretty much scouted me, when I was hoping to be discovered and ever since we’ve been friends.”

Richardis’s brain was working fast, trying to recall all that she had read about hosting. A scout… that was a guy, often a host himself, who worked for one or several clubs and went around searching for new potential hosts or hostesses. There were other ways of getting hired by club, but getting scouted was the best and often only way to get into top-notch host clubs. So Mori-san was the guy, who had recommended Ayame to the establishment she worked in and he was her friend.

“What did he say?” Ayame interrupted Richardis’s trail of thought with excitement on her face. “Oh, he knew my name. I guess you told him about me?” Ayame nodded, “And?” “And… he asked me if I was aiming to become a hostess myself and I asked him if he wanted to talk to you… then he basically just vanished,” said Richardis, unsure how to phrase how Kenji had checked her out, since she couldn’t recall the Japanese word. “Oh,” said Ayame, “that’s all? Did he say anything about me?” “He said he was your friend. And he… gee, I don’t know the Japanese word...“ said Richardis, slightly infuriated. “Use English!” said Ayame. “Hmm, okay, well, he kind of checked me out…” said Richardis, “He looked me up and down, smiled and vanished.” Unsure about Ayame’s reaction, but glad it was off her chest Richardis looked up at Ayame.

To her surprised Ayame was smiling and didn’t seem the least bit angry. “That’s… a good thing?” asked Richardis. “Yep, that’s what he did to me the 1^st time we met and a week later I had a job at one of the best places in Roppongi,” said Ayame cheerfully. Richardis was completely perplex at the fact that her Japanese sister in spirit, an outspoken feminist, who 3½ years ago wouldn’t have accepted a guy even giving her a queer look, was now smiling brightly and excitedly over the fact that guy had looked her up and down to see if she fit the physical requirements of hostess club. Right there Richardis got very insecure of whether she could do a job which repeatedly involved guys looking at her and wondering what she was wearing underneath. Ayame seemed different. But she was only girly and squealing like this, when…

“Onee-chan. Do you have a crush on Kenji Mori?” Ayame looked away from the window which she had been staring at dreamily. “Guilty as charged!” she answered, holding up one hand, as though she was swearing an oath. “You never told me!” pouted Richardis. “I told you just now! And I didn’t before, cause we were just friends for the longest time and it’s only recently, that I can see something more happening,” said Ayame and resumed eating. Richardis turned back to her plate, too. Her thoughts were rotating around her 1^st encounter with the hosting world and if she was honest with herself, she didn’t like the idea of Ayame’s love interest being a host, although she was planning to become a hostess herself. Why was it two different things in her mind – herself doing hosting and someone else doing it? “Nice double-standard you have developed there already,” Richardis thought to herself, “And you haven’t even done any hostessing yet.”

When they had finished eating Richardis started feeling tired, while Ayame was now wide-awake. “Gome⁵, Richi-chan. But you’re gonna have to change your sleeping cycle eventually,” said Ayame leaning back against the sofa. “I was thinking you should have a few days to arrive and get rid of your jet lag. But my tenant said if 2 people live here, they’ll both have to pay rent, since we’ll both be using water and electricity. Meaning you…” she poked Richardis’s nose, “are going to have to start working pretty soon!” Richardis rubbed her nose and yawned: “Yeah, you send me an e-mail with all that. I have savings that should last me for a bit, but I do wanna understand the business and start saving for my tuition fees soon.”

“Okay!” said Ayame and got up. Richardis looked at her sleepily: “We’re not going out now… are we?” “We gotta keep you awake a few more hours, so you can start adjusting!” said Ayame, pulling a pair of tights out of the living room drawer. “I told you to bring your best clothes, right? Well, put them on now!”

It took some persuasion and patience to get Richardis to change and ready to go out. Ayame had to help Richardis with putting on make-up, who felt uncomfortable wearing more than her usual bit of eye-liner. When Richardis was about to slip into her comfy street boots, Ayame let out a big sigh and handed her a pair of her shoes.

“I don’t know if I can walk in those!” protested Richardis. “That’s fine! Today’s your 1^st lesson in heels. Wear those!” insisted Ayame, putting on a pair of red wedges. Richardis looked at the shiny dark blue pair in her hands. They did fit with her white and blue dress, but she wasn’t eager to get on Tokyo’s railway escalators with those on her feet. In her German hometown night life had been so dull, that after a few unsatisfying experiences Richardis had largely withdrawn from it, a friend’s birthday being the occasional exception. She had never felt a strong desire to wear heels, since she found them difficult to dance in and since she was satisfied with her height, she had never had a real occasion to where them except for a night out.

“Put them on already! If we miss the train, we’ll have to wait half an hour!” said Ayame. Richardis pulled on her tights and finally shoved her feet into Ayame’s blue heels. “Do they fit?” asked Ayame. “Kind of,” replied Richardis, not wanting to upset Ayame, although she could feel the shoes pinch both her big toes. She made a mental note to buy heels her own size in the coming days.

Ayame checked her hair and outfit one last time in the long mirror next to the entry door. Richardis took a peek to catch her own reflection and was surprised. She looked surprisingly good, with Ayame having done the make-up and her red-brown curls neatly falling onto her shoulders. Still slightly tired, Richardis felt a familiar tingling of excitement in her stomach.

^{1 "Hello" (used on the phone) in Korean}

^{2 "Hello" (used on the phone) in Japanese}

^{3 Yui Nakamura is fictious}

^{4 "I'm sorry" in Japanese}

^{5 "Sorry" in Japanese}