It was a cool summer's day. The barber was in his shop giving an elderly customer a shave, the two men silent as the customer relaxed in the barber chair, enjoying the cool breeze from the ceiling fan. Light jazz music was playing from the tabletop radio at the request of the customer. 

The barber was intently focused on his shave, as the customer was one that was known for his perfectionist tendencies. It was just as the barber was shaving the customer's chin – a tricky region that required delicacy and precision to avoid cuts – when the barber shop's door opened violently, the bell tinkling loudly. Mr. Kim gasped and pulled the razor away from the man, luckily avoiding nicking him. He looked up as a boy stomped into the store, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. 

“Mister! Cut my hair!” 

“Oh, Kyuhyun-ah? Is that you?”

The boy pulled off his baseball cap, revealing a scruffy, odd-looking hairstyle. 

“Save me Mister! It's an emergency!” he whined. 

“Unfortunately you're going to have to wait for a bit, Kyuhyunnie. I'm just finishing up with a customer, okay?” 

The boy slammed the cap back on his head and stomped over to the waiting area, crossing his arms as he angrily sat on the floor, just inches away from the large-screen television. 

Mr. Kim hesitated, then excused himself from the customer and padded over to the waiting area, wondering what was going on with the odd boy. 

“Why are you sitting there Kyuhyun?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Hiding.” 

Mr. Kim cocked his head curiously. 

“Hiding from who?” 

Kyuhyun put his finger to his lips, shushing the barber dramatically. 

“Shhhh, Mister, he'll find out,” he whispered. 

The confused man just nodded, deciding not to pursue the matter further. 

“By the way Kyuhyunnie, where’s your father?”

“He’s parking the car. I couldn’t wait,” he grumbled, still whispering. 

The barber shook his head, amused. He returned to the barber chair and quickly finished the shave, avoiding injuring the customer, and said goodbye, just as Mr. Cho walked into the shop. 

“Kyuhyun!” his father said sternly, “You are not supposed to run off without me! What if you got hit by a car?” 

Kyuhyun pulled himself out of his moody reverie and swung his head around to look at his father. 

“It’s an emergency appa!” 

“It doesn’t matter Kyuhyun. Never do that again or you’ll be in trouble,” Mr. Cho reprimanded once more as he settled himself in his usual seat in the waiting area. 

“Sorry, appa,” the boy said, sulking. 

“Okay Kyuhyunnie, climb into the chair!” called Mr. Kim, turning off the radio.

The boy ran over like a bullet and was in the barber chair in a flash, covering his head, shifty-eyed. 

“What are you doing Kyuhyun-ah?” asked the barber, amused by the boy’s strange behavior. 

“Hiding my head. Ryeowookie will make fun of me.” 

“Oh, so that's who you're hiding from,” he said, laughing. “So tell me, how did your hair end up this way?” 

Kyuhyun sniffed. 

“I was playing after school and some girl came and gave me an icky hug and she was chewing gum and the gum got in my hair!” 

“That’s too bad,” Mr. Kim said as he draped the gown around Kyuhyun. “It looks like you tried to take it out?” 

A now-teary Kyuhyun nodded. 

“I tried cutting it out but I kept on missing. And then I tried shampoo. And then umma came home and she cut it out. But now my hair looks like this!” The words came out in a rush, almost indecipherable. By the end of his spiel, he was hysterical. “Mister, help me! Ryeowookie and all the other kids are going to make fun of me! They'll call me an ugly sheep or a fuzzy monkey or a furball! I have to get my hair fixed now before anyone sees!”

Mr. Kim chortled. 

“Don't worry, Ryeowookie isn't home right now. He has Tae Kwon Do classes. He should be back any moment though, so maybe we should hurry, hm?” 

Kyuhyun nodded energetically. 

“All right Kyuhyun-ah, what do you want your hair to look like?” the barber asked as he gently took off the boy's cap. 

Kyuhyun was just about to respond when the door to the barber shop door banged open violently for the second time that day.

“Appa!” came a high-pitched voice, “Soo-hyung kicked me and it hurts so much! Appa I'm going to dieeee! Save meee!” The boy feigned a dramatic death in the entryway of the store. 

Mr. Kim rolled his eyes, his hands on his hips as he tsked at his son. 

“Ryeowook-ah, we have customers! Look, Kyu-” 

The panicked Kyuhyun stood up on his booster seat and slapped a hand over the barber's mouth, cutting the man off abruptly. He snatched his cap back with his other hand and pulled it on his head, shaking his head and whimpering. 

But it was too late. 

Kyuhyun watched in fear as Ryeowook's supposedly dead body opened an eye, with a quiet squeaky 'Kyu?' accompanying it. 

“Kyu?” he said louder, opening his other eye. 

“Did you say Kyu?” The boy sat up, eyes widening in recognition. 

“AH, IT'S KYYUUUUU!” he finally yelled, screaming and running towards Kyuhyun, who was now cowering in his barber chair. 

Mr. Kim watched his son in confusion then looked at his wife as she entered the store. They met each other's gaze, the barber sending her significant looks, tipping his head towards his son. 

“Kyungsoo fed him apology candy for kicking him when I went to the bathroom. A lot of apology candy,” she responded dryly. 

“Great,” answered the barber, as he watched Ryeowook do a tribalistic dance around Kyuhyun's barber chair, singing his personal edited version of 'Bubble Kyu', “Juuuust great.” 

“Good luck honey!” she said, as she smoothly scooted off upstairs. “He's allll yours.” 

Mr. Cho was peering at Ryeowook's antics from the waiting area with wide, astonished eyes. He stood up, clearing his throat. 

“Mr. Kim I have an... er... an... an important phone call to take. I'll be at the convenience store next door or in the car. Send Kyuhyun out when he's done. I apologize but it's urgent. Can't do anything about it. Unavoidable. My hands are tied,” he kept on coming up with weak excuses as he smoothly (yet rapidly) slid over to the door and was gone in a flash.

The barber facepalmed, wondering what he had done to deserve this. The chants of 'bubble bubble bubble Kyu, bubble bubble Kyu Kyu!” continued at a feverish pitch from the small, overly excited boy. 

Kyuhyun had his arms over his head, hoping that the self-proclaimed 'hairstyle snob' wouldn’t see his messy hair. He was considering running after his father when he heard the telltale sound of Ryeowook's plastic step stool right beside him. 

“Kyu-hyun-nie! Let's give you a hair~cut! I have the spray, see? Spritz spritz spritz! But we can't spritz your hair unless you don't have a hat on. So take off your hat okay~?” The older boy tried to peel Kyuhyun's arms off his head with his free hand. 

“Noooo,” wailed Kyuhyun, surprised at the strength of Ryeowook's hand. 

“Ryeowook-ah, please go get me a snack from upstairs. I'm hungry,” said the barber, flustered, wracking his brain to find a way to get rid of his son. 

The boy turned his head sharply towards his father. 

“Appa, you're going to get fat! Like a biiiig, faaat elephant balloon!” He made a big, body-wide circle with his arms. 

Mr. Kim narrowed his eyes, looking pointedly at his son. The boy got up and ran upstairs with a fearful 'eeep!' 

“Let's do this quickly before he returns, Kyuhyunnie,” said the barber, grabbing his scissors. “I'll just re-shape your hair and give you a trim okay?”

Kyuhyun nodded vigorously. 

“Hurry, Mister, hurry!” 

The man took off the boy's cap, putting it to the side then started rapidly snipping. 

But before he could erase the evidence of the bubble gum-incident, he heard the bounding steps of his sugar-high son coming down the stairs. 

“Appa, umma says that you can't make- Eh?” the boy skidded to a halt then padded over to the front of Kyuhyun, wide-eyed and curious. He stared at Kyuhyun for five long seconds then broke into raucous laughter, doubled-over and clapping. 

“It's a fuzzball! A Kyuhyunnie fuzzball!” Ryeowook gasped, holding onto the barber table for support as his other hand pointed aggressively at the messy-haired boy. “You look like a fat sheep after it was hair-dried then hit by lightning then eaten by monkeys!” 

“Shut up Ryeowookie!” retorted an annoyed, irate Kyuhyun. “I bet you can't even do Tae Kwon Do properly! I bet your short stubby legs can't hold you up when you kick and you fall over. No wonder you got kicked! You're like a baby piggie with short legs!” He stuck his tongue out at Ryeowook, “Piggy-ah!” 

“I'm not! I'm going to grow up and be bigger than you! You'll be tiny and I'll step on you! I'll step on you while I'm singing Step!” 

“Okay, okay boys, calm down now,” said the barber, attempting to calm the two furiously bickering boys. “Ryeowook-ah, did you design a hairstyle for Kyuhyunnie this time?” 

Ryeowook shook his head, brow still wrinkled in irritation as he glared at Kyuhyun. 

“I can go draw one right now. I just need to draw a fat sheep with stinky poopie-hair.” 

“Ryeowook...” the barber said in a threatening voice. “Either give me a proper answer or you're going to be doing the laundry for the next two weeks.” 

The boy's eyes widened. 

“I-don't-have-a-picture-appa-I'm-sorry,” he mumbled rapidly, pouting. 

“That's too bad Ryeowookie,” his father said in a mock apologetic voice. “Since you can't do anything here, go upstairs and watch TV until you calm down.” 

“But appaaa-” 

“You know Kyuhyunnie, last night I put a really stinky pair of red underwear in the laundry basket. I feel bad for whoever has to wash the laundry this week. I'm sure they're icky.” He scrunched his face into a look of disgust.

“Okay-appa-I'm-going-now-bye-Kyuhyunnie-I-love-you!” the boy squeaked promptly and bounced off upstairs. 

Mr. Kim turned to Kyuhyun, winking, and picked up his scissors once more. 

“Ryeowookie doesn't like doing the laundry because he says it's smelly. It's the best way to get him to do things he doesn't want to do. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first.” 

Kyuhyun chuckled, relaxed now that Ryeowook was out of the room. 

“So how are you? Did you start your singing lessons yet?” The barber asked conversationally, returning to t Kyuhyun's hair. 

The boy nodded. 

“Umma signed me up! I'm doing really good!” 

“That’s great Kyuhyunnie. Are you taking them at your school?”

“No, she comes to our house. She said I have a very good tune!” 

“Tune? Ah, you mean tone?” 

“Ah, yeah,” he smiled, sheepish. 

“Wow, I guess you’ll have to sing for Ryeowookie and me soon.” 

“Okay! I’ll sing lots of songs! I’ll show Ryeowookie how good I am!” And he sang: “Do Re Mi Fa Soh La Ti Do.” 

“That's very good, Kyuhyunnie. You’re enjoying singing, aren’t you?” 

Kyuhyun nodded shyly in response. 

“That’s good. Keep it up! Everyone should do something they enjoy,” Mr. Kim encouraged. He switched on the hairdryer and began drying Kyuhyun’s hair. 

“So what do you think of your hairstyle? I just trimmed it a little,” said the barber several minutes later as he turned off the hairdryer and lightly ruffled the boy’s hair further, giving it an effortlessly ‘messy’ look. 

“It’s okay, Mister. I can wait until next time for a new hairstyle!” The boy said, pulling off the gown and tossing it on the floor. 

“Call ahead before you come next time. Then I’ll make sure Ryeowookie is feeling, umm …normal so he can pick your next hairstyle, okay?” 

Kyuhyun jumped out of his seat, satisfied, and nodded. 

“And stay away from girls that are chewing gum too,” said the barber as he gently picked up and folded the dropped gown.

“I can't, Mister! They follow me everywhere and always want to give me hugs!” 

Mr. Kim grinned. 

“It sounds like you're quite popular with the ladies, aren't you?” He patted the boy on the back, guffawing. 

“I don't want to be popular with girls, Mister. I only want friends that play games!” 

Mr. Kim chuckled, waving down Mr. Cho who was peering in through the window, checking up on his son. 

“Appa, hurry, let’s go! I’ll be late for my singing lessons,” Kyuhyun yelled at his father through the window. “I'll wait near the car,” he announced nonchalantly to his father as he strutted out of the barber shop, passing his father and an incoming customer on the way.

“Oi, Kyuhyun-ah, don’t leave without me!” Mr. Cho called to his son’s retreating back. He sighed, giving the barber his credit card. 

The barber chortled. 

“It seems like he’s quite a handful!’ 

“You have no idea. He’s unfortunately taken to this singing thing like monkeys to bananas,” Mr. Cho said as he rolled his eyes. “Although, I have to say, your son was quite the...spectacle today.” He coughed lightly. 

“Yes, sugar and Ryeowook are a bad, bad, bad combination. My son is already naturally energetic but giving him sugar makes him act drunk. I try to limit his sugar intake but situations occur that are…out of our control. Like today, for example.”

Mr. Cho sniggered. 

“Kyuhyun only gets a little like that after he wins his games. He bounces between myself and my wife and gives us extremely detailed breakdowns of how he stomped so-and-so or how he raided someone else's resources. It's just hours and hours of non-stop chatter.” 

“Chatter? I should lend you my son one day. I'm sure Kyuhyun-ah's chatter can't compare to Ryeowook's sugar-high natterings. He's probably bothering my wife as we speak,” the barber said conversationally, cheerful. 

“I won't argue with you there.” Mr. Cho paused, hesitating. “Although...it’s a bit weird for a boy to act like that, don't you think? Usually boys don’t do things like dance flamboyantly - even when they’re on a sugar-high. Kyuhyun has definitely never done anything like that. You should mind your son a little bit more Mr. Kim.” He coughed lightly as he picked up his credit card. He tipped his head, not meeting the barber’s eyes, and made his way out the door. “We'll see you again soon!” 

Mr. Kim raised an eyebrow at Mr. Cho’s last comment, somewhat vexed, eventually deciding to let it slide. He took a deep breath, centering himself before his next haircut. The temporary silence was broken by a muffled squeak of 'Umma, the man just got shot bang bang bang'. The barber shook his head, feeling bad for his wife, then put on a professional smile and greeted his next customer.