Spring, 2011

"Is he drunk?"

"I think he's drunk."

Lee Kwang Soo gingerly lifts Kim Jong Kook's arm from his side and watches it fall limply back to the couch.

"Ah, yes," he says. "I believe he's drunk. Maybe dead. Probably drunk. Possibly dead."

Haha hops to his feet. "Okay!" He claps his hands briskly. "Put him in the car."

Kwang Soo and Gary eye the unconscious form slumped on the couch.

“Oh, just put him in the car. Okay, let me finish counting to infinity and I’ll just put him in the car. I can fit that in right before I’m scheduled to bite my own .”

Gary’s not feeling Haha’s plan.

“He’s not as big as he looks,” Haha counters. “I’ve -- “ he grunts “ -- got his feet. You two get his arms and we’ll load him up.”

“All right,” says Kwang Soo, eyeing Jong Kook up dubiously. “But if he wakes up -- “

“Maybe dead. Possibly dead. Probably dead. All of us,” finishes Gary, slinging a floppy arm over his shoulder and giving a heave.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?” Haha looks into the rearview mirror, making eye contact with Kwang Soo, who is ensuring Jong Kook stays reasonably unconscious in order to keep the rest of them reasonably safe, though he has absolutely no idea what his game plan is should the man start to stir. The two riding up front had no suggestions in response to his desperate pleas as they slammed the back door in his face, the lightly snoring drunk’s head lolling on his lap. At least he’ll be able to sound an alarm, giving Gary and Haha time to escape.

“Can you explain to me just one more time what it is we’re doing?”

“We’re going to a fortune teller for Jong Kook’s birthday.”

“So he can find his soul mate,” Gary adds.

“And we couldn’t have just said, ‘Hey, JK, happy birthday, let’s go to a fortune teller and find you a wife, buddy?,’” asks Kwang Soo, voice somewhat strangled with effort not to disturb the subject of the conversation.

“Well, no, it’s not that simple,” Haha explains. “He doesn’t believe in fortune tellers.”

“Sooo… ?” Kwang Soo let’s the question hang in the air.

“You know he wants to meet someone. You know he wants to get married, have kids, all of that,” Gary breaks in. “You saw him tonight, drinking and looking grim. It’s like that every year now, and a little worse every time, especially with his friends married and having kids. What’s the harm in injecting a little hope into the situation and having a laugh at the same time? We drag the sad sack of muscles in there, she waves her arms and does some woo woo business, tells him love is on the way, and he’s drunk enough to buy into it for once. That’s the gist, right?”

“Weeeeellllll…,” Haha hedges as he turns the car off the main road and onto a darker side street. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of,’ Dong Hoon? I signed up for the woo woo. Tell me we’re doing the woo woo. And where are you going, anyway?” Gary peers out the window, noting the street lights are fewer and farther between than before.

“So. Well. The thing is.”

“What’s the thing, Haha hyung?,” Kwang Soo demands. “Tell me the thing. Tell me the thing right now or I swear I will open this door and tuck and roll.” He’s been eyeing t