“Rain invited you where?!” Wooyoung gasped when I told everyone what had happened.
   All my band mates huddled around the couch, studying my face to see if I was serious or not.
   “He . . . told me to come over to his place tonight.” Jeeze, what’s their problem? I blinked when they all whispered a chorus of “whoaaaa’s”.
   “Ohmygod, hyung you’re so lucky!” Junho sat next to me on the couch with his bubbly eye smile.
   “I know I’ve only been here for a few days, but . . . why is this such a big deal?” I asked.
   “Because Rain isn’t nice to anyone,” Nichkhun was the first to answer. “Least of all trainees.”
   Junho nodded. “And he asked you over to his apartment. That must mean he likes you!”
   Oh . . . I still don’t get it. I couldn’t understand why they all seemed to look up to this guy so much, he seemed like an to me. I looked up when I heard a new voice, one I’d never heard before.
   “You haven’t even been here that long and already Rain is inviting you places.” Jaebum mumbled, going to sit on the other side of the room. He spoke slowly, and broken. He was definitely American because I barely understood a word he said. He confirmed this when he mumbled something in English, Taec hit him over the back of his head in disapproval and Khun shot a dirty look his way, even though I couldn’t understand what he said.
   I did, however understand that he was seriously displeased with the attention I was getting. “I might not go.” I mumbled, suddenly self conscious.
   “The hell do you mean?” Khun pushed my shoulder. “You have a chance to keep Rain from squealing on us, you have to go!”
   I sighed. Which was more important, saving the band or leader liking me? Crap. “Okay, I’ll go.”
   Junho squeaked and hugged me. “Eeek, I’m so excited!” His smile was infectious. “I’ll help you pick out your clothes! I noticed your wardrobe was kinda non-existent so you can wear anything of mine you want!” He clapped his hands like a young girl.
   “When did you,” I blinked. “You went through my stuff?!” Despite my growl, he still smiled.
   “I was curious, gosh.”
   Wooyoung snickered, he was now the only one left besides Junho. “He’s just nosy, hyung. You’ll get used to it.”
   “Woo!” Junho held out his arms for a hug. “Help me dress hyung for his date tonight?”
   Date . . . he just called it a date.
   “Yah! It’s not a date . . . he specifically said “hang out” okay?” I snorted. Date. Like anyone would ask me out on a date.
   They both rolled their eyes and pulled me into their bedroom. I stood in shock. Junho’s side of the room was just as bright and cutesy as his eye smile, filled with bright colors and lots of smiling sushi plushies and trinkets. A string of blossom decorated paper lanterns hung above his pillow covered bed and a gigantic poster of Danniel Henny was taped to the wall. It really looked like a teenage girl’s room. I looked at Wooyoung’s side of the room. It was incredibly bland compared to Junho’s. A simple navy blue comforter covered his bed, other than a couple magazines and cd’s, there wasn’t much else besides Wooyoung himself.
   “Hyung!” Junho waved his hand in front of my face. “Are you even listening to me?”
   I looked at Junho and shook my head. I really wasn’t listening to him. I hadn’t even noticed he was talking.
   He rolled his eyes. “What’s your shoe size?”
   “Uhh . . . twenty-seven point five.”
   “Me too!” he beamed. “You look like you’re about the same pants size too, c’mere.” He pulled me over to the walk in closet and opened the double doors. I stared at the rows and rows of shoes, perfectly aligned on racks. “I demanded this room when we moved in here,” Junho bragged. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t need this space. None of the guys have as many clothes as me.” He pointed out the racks of clothes on hangers; they all seemed to be organized by color . . . and in a rainbow pattern across the racks. Junho turned to me with his bouncy self. “So, just pick whatever you like.”
   “Whoa, uhh, thank’s dongsaeng.” I looked around, truly having no idea where to begin. It was more like a clothing store than a closet. “You have . . . a lot of clothes.”
   “Mhm, I know!” He laughed, rummaging around through the racks of clothes. “Here, try this.” He handed me an outfit, it looked club-ish . . . and tight. Not my thing. I shook my head and he sighed, pulling out something else.
   This went on for an hour. Every time Junho would pick out a new outfit, I’d try it on and spend way too much time looking in the mirror. Wooyoung sat by the door, blinking in awe when I tried on a pair of black jeans and thin, loosely knit sweater that you could almost see through. Junho smirked wide and then disappeared behind a clothes rack, returning after a couple seconds with a white leather jacket that had two black stripes going down the arms. “Try it. I know it’s a clash of colors but you don’t want to match from head to toe.” He smiled when I pulled the jacket on.
   “Whoaaaa, hyung . . .” Wooyoung stared at me.
   “Yah, what? Why are you guys looking at me like that?!” I snapped, self conscious.
   Junho rolled his eyes and turned me around so I could see myself in the floor length mirror. I looked . . . hot. I mean, seriously. I was used to seeing myself trying to pull off the “gangster” look, but in this I was . . . surprisingly y. Like one of those models you see leaning against a motorcycle in a magazine. I smirked.
   “Now we have to do is something with all this hair, did you even brush it today?” Junho said as he tried to flatten down my messy hair. “C’mon, it’s already seven o’clock.” He pulled me to the bathroom and leaned me over the sink. I protested, totally unused to other people doing my hair. I guess I’ll have to get used to it . . . I am trying to become a pop star, after all. I sighed and gave in, letting Junho give my hair a quick shampoo. Amazingly, he managed to wash and dry my hair without getting a single drop of water on my– his clothes. After he was done burning my ears with his hair dryer while I sat and grumbled, he took his time brushing my hair, straightening the ends to stay exactly the way he wanted. Finally, he smirked and pointed to the mirror behind me.
   My jaw dropped at the person I saw sitting where I should have been. This guy actually knows what he’s doing. I looked at him. “Junho-yah . . .”
   He laughed. “I know, you can thank me later.” He motioned to the clock.
   . I nearly ran towards the door. Why am I always late?!
   I heard a series of gasps when I passed the living room, not stopping to show off my y new look seeing since I now had less than thirty minutes to get to a place I’d never been before. I grumbled at my horrible sense of direction and then smiled when I remembered that Taec had written the directions there from our dorm for me. I hurried out the front door, trusting someone else would lock it and went towards the elevator. When the doors opened, Chansung stood in the otherwise empty elevator, blinking as he eyed me up and down. “Junsu hyung?”
   “Maknae, I’m late so get out.” I said, sounding a little meaner than I’d planned. I made a mental note to apologize . . . later, though.
   He stayed where he was, cracking a small smile as he refused to take his eyes off me. “Hyung, you look really good. Did Junho do this to you?”
   I rolled my eyes and pressed the button for the lobby, not waiting for him to get out the elevator. He didn’t seem to mind. “It’s no big deal, I could look this y any time I want.” I mumbled, rushing out the elevator when the doors opened again.
   “I like your hair!” Maknae yelled after me.
   I was so amazingly beyond thankful that the directions Taec gave me were easy to follow, like he knew I was a geographically stupid and wrote them down accordingly. Because of this, I got to the apartment building only fourteen minutes late. I looked around as I waited for the elevator. This place was obviously for people with money. Even the lobby was nicer than my band’s entire dorm. I checked the card that Rain had given me before pressing the button for the top floor. Suddenly, I was nervous. Very nervous.
   With a sigh, I stepped out the elevator and headed down the hall until I found the door marked 8A. I hesitated before knocking lightly, fixing my collar and reminding myself not to bite my lip too much when– the door opened.
   Rain stood in front of me. The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing the same clothes he wore earlier, which made me feel absolutely stupid for going through all that hassle at finding the perfect outfit. His scrutiny was about to have the better of me, but then he smirked another shiver inducing smile and stepped back to let me in. “You’re late.” He teased.
   I fought away a blush and stepped inside. “Y-Yeah . . . that’s just how I roll.” Really? That’s just how I roll? Note to self . . . kick self when he’s not looking.
   Thankfully, he only laughed at my stupid choice of words. It was a mocking laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “Well, I made dinner.”
   I couldn’t help but noticed the interior. This place was like a freaking penthouse in some magazine somewhere. Everything was expensive looking and very well kept.
   “Can I take your jacket?” his words pulled my attention back to him.
   “Oh, yeah.” I smiled, pulling Junho’s jacket off and then blinking when he stared at my torso. I looked down and immediately blushed when I remembered how much skin could be seen through the knit of the thin sweater.
   “You didn’t get all dolled up just for me, did you?” He smiled and for once, it didn’t give me an odd feeling. This smile seemed to reach his eyes, which made him look incredibly young and harmless. He took my jacket and motioned to the dining room table that was filled with a spread of Hanjeongsik.
   I looked around the table, a bit impressed. Damn, he’s hot AND he can cook. I looked back up at him when I heard a “pop” and raised an eyebrow. He was holding a freshly opened bottle of wine, pouring two glasses.
   “Junsu . . . that is your name, right?” He said, sitting down and handing me one of the glasses.
   I nodded, taking a sip of the wine and almost choked. It wasn’t whine, it was champagne. I’d only had champagne once and it was a poor imitation compared to this stuff. “Whoa, it tastes just like honey!”
   Again, he only laughed, casually sipping from his own glass.
   “Tell me about yourself.” He finally said, taking a bite of food.
   I blinked, not knowing where to start. “What do you want to know?”
   “Anything. How’d you end up at JYP?”
   I thought for a moment. “Well, I was actually offered a contract by YG as well, but . . . I spent a lot of time with Jin-Young hyung.” I smiled, remembering a couple months back, when I first met with JYP. “I decided to go with JYP ‘cause of him, ‘cause he understands music the way I do. With most record labels, it’s only about making it big. Money first, music second. But Jin-Young hyung, well . . . he feels that if the music is good, then the money will be good.” I shrugged. “I don’t know, as a composer, I appreciate when my work is appreciated as art, not just a way to make people money.” I trailed off, quickly stuffing more food into my mouth to stop myself from talking.
   “That’s understandable. Honestly, I get sick of all these new trainees coming and going, always talking about ‘being famous’ and having ‘expensive’ things. It’s a relief to know you actually care about music.”
   This time, I smiled. “I can’t not care, I love everything about music. I always have.” I laughed a little.
   “What else do you love?”
   “Umm, my parents?” I blushed when he laughed. “Don’t laugh, they’re good people!”
   He nodded. “I’m sure they are . . .  what’s your favorite food?”
   “Sourpatch candies.”
   “I said food, not candy!” He teased like a child. “God, you’re like a child.” I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but he busted out into laughter when I pouted.
   “Arasseo, arasseo!” I had to think for a moment, playing a game of eeny-meeny-miney-moe in my head, thinking of my favorite food. “Sushi.” I smirked.
   He nodded. “Oooh . . . I hate sushi!” He made a face and then laughed.
   It was good to see him laugh. It was warm and inviting, but I couldn’t help but feel a hidden intention, buried deep behind his charming smile.
   Things were quite for a moment, I tried not to notice him eyeing me from across the table.
   I cleared my throat a little. “What about you, hyung?” He was surprised at my question. “Why’d you invite me here? My dongsaeng’s say you can’t stand trainees . . . so why be nice to me?”
   “Is that what they say about me?” He looked amused, getting up from the table and grabbing his champagne glass, stepping over to my end of the table. “Well . . . I have been known to be a little rude, but . . . I was a trainee too, once.” He looked down at me curiously. “Let’s move to the living room, if you’re done eating.”
   If I wasn’t too dazed to blush, my face would have been red from how fast I stood up. He grabbed my champagne for me and led me to the white suede sofa sitting in the middle of his living room.
   We sat and talked for well over an hour.
   Actually . . . he asked questions, I answered them, chiming in with my own questions here and there. Another bottle and a half of champagne later, and he wasn’t the only one laughing at my answers, then came the personal questions. Questions about past romances and flings, many of which had me struggling to keep from laughing from nervousness. I almost died when he just up an asked if I was a . After I’d finished my gigglefit, he smiled and looked me deep in my eyes, almost whispering. “You’re gay, aren’t you?”
   I completely lost the ability to speak, or think, or even breathe normally. It’s not that I didn’t have the answer. I knew the answer the moment he asked me. I smacked him on his arm, still unable to speak.
   It’s really not that I didn’t have the answer. I’d known for a long time that I was just a tad bit different than all my friends. I wasn’t confused, like a lot of young people claim to be. I knew exactly what I liked and what I didn’t like. So yes, I had the answer.
   I’d just never actually openly admitted it before . . . to anyone.
   He kept looking at me, I could tell he was waiting for an answer, for the answer. But why should I give it? Why should I sit down with a guy I barely knew and reveal what may well be my deepest secret? I’m shy by nature; it would make no sense for me to do that. Before I realized what I was doing, I nodded at him.
   A smirk spread across his face immediately. “I knew it!”
   I froze. “How did you know what?!” I almost yelled.
   “I knew you were gay, you act like it.”
   “I do not act gay! I act very normal, thank you.” I defended myself.
   He raised his hands as if surrendering. “It’s okay, gay people are normal too.” He laughed as I crossed my arms over my chest and grumbled to myself. “Okay, one last question.”
   I raised an eyebrow. Is he serious? I shook my head.
  “I swear, it’ll be the last one! Pleeeeeease?”
   I sighed heavily through my nose, nodding angrily.
   “You said you’d been with women before,” I almost didn’t notice the way he discreetly inched closer to me as he spoke, voice soft. “Have you ever been with another man?”
   I gasped, dropping my glass of champagne in his lap as I jumped up.
   “Ahh !” He stood up too, wiping the spilled champagne off his sofa and glaring at me. “What the hell is your problem?!”
   My eyes widened as I took a step back, biting on my lip. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll pay to,” I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t afford to replace it. “To have it cleaned. I’m sorry . . .” I trailed off, looking down.
   When I looked up, he was standing in front of me. I swallowed the lump from the back of my throat, suddenly afraid of his reaction. “You stay there,” he pointed to the chair next to the sofa. “Try not to ruin anything, okay?” I nodded and he disappeared into the hallway.
   My hands flew to my face as if they were magnetized. Kim Junsu, could you be an even bigger idiot?! I yelled at myself in my head. In all of two minutes, I’d managed to ruin the entire night. I shouldn’t have come here. I should have just stayed at home. I groaned quietly, wiping my eyes from the stress tears building up at the corners. I was stupid. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I hit myself in the head over and over again.
   After a while, I glanced up at the clock. It sure is taking him a while. I wondered what he was doing. What could be taking him so long? I sighed and felt the tears coming back. I couldn’t get over how stupid I was. God dammit! Pull yourself together. It would be worse if he comes out here and sees you pouting like a girl. I blinked at the next thought that crossed my mind.
   What if . . .  what if, when he comes out, he doesn’t see you? I eyed the front door. So close, yet it felt so far away. I could do it. I could walk out now and hide from him for the rest of my career. The thought was so appealing, I was seconds away from jumping up and making a run for it when I heard a door open down the hallway. Damn, too late.
   Rain appeared at the end of the hallway.
   My brain couldn’t process what I was seeing so I had no choice but to stare down his half body as he stood in front of me, wearing only a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs as he dried off his dripping wet hair with a towel.
   “Sorry that took so long,” He said, tossing the towel on the floor and eyeing me just as hard as I was him. He held up his hand, beckoning me over. “Come here.”
 

To be continued . . .