Attention: each "~♪♪♪~" sign is a link to the song that the character is performing.

I raised my eyebrows, surprised. I’ve already listened to many of pieces played by Taemin. Each one of them was different, some made me smile, others brought me down. However, what he was doing right now appeared to be diametrically dissimilar to any of his previous performances. Could it be called a performance even…

The boy moved his bow against strings, creating a clear, deep tone. The sound lasted for a few seconds, followed by a sudden pause. I watched the neighborhood boy as he frowned his eyebrows, mumbling something under his breath. After a brief moment he started his playing once again, this time allowing the sound to last a bit longer and fluently change into another, a bit higher. Unusual concentration was painted all over his face as he was cautiously choosing elements of the melody one by one.

Because that’s what Taemin was doing. Composing.

He surprised me once again. Never before had he mentioned his own creations. He knew and appreciated classics, which he could play with a great passion and an equal precision, even though all of them sounded so similar in my ears. But this time something totally different was happening right before my eyes. Taemin was so into his own music that I wished him best in the creation process. Being an artist, I knew very well how much satisfaction could your art give you, born from hours of working hard on developing your talent. Taemin undoubtedly had a gift, not to mention his solid background forced by his mother. These factors mixed together placed him much higher than ordinary musicians at such a young age.

Taemin commanded his violin to sing another warm tone, but did not let the sound ring with its full beauty. He suddenly stopped playing and moved the instrument away, as if he was angry. There was dissatisfaction hidden in the grimace of his lips, signalizing that he’s not proud of his own work. After a moment his angriness melted, quickly making place for a sad helplessness, that instantly made me want to hug him. I couldn’t understand what pushed him to composing. Maybe I wouldn’t even search for some serious reasons if not for the fact that he was clearly devastated with his failure. For a moment I even thought that maybe his mother ordered him to create his own music, but I quickly rejected the idea. He put too much heart into the piece. It could not be an outcome of constraint.

For a few minutes Taemin kept on sitting on a chair without a single movement, making me worried more and more with every passing moment. Finally, he quickly stood up and with stubborn face continued his work.

We knew each other for a few months, and I was still catching myself surprised with his changing moods, his balancing humors. In one sentence or gesture he could hide two totally different emotions, such as angriness and empathy. That’s why I actually didn’t know what was his attitude towards me. Usually he was cold and harsh, insulting me as often as he could. But then there were those little precious moments, especially in last few weeks, when he showed vulnerability and this weird, adorkable tenderness. I was somehow satisfied with these slight changes in his attitude. Many days before, listening to his painful music, I made a decision. I wanted to break this wall that he built around him. To become his friend. And I succeeded, Taemin admitted it himself (even if he was a bit forced to name it). Our relation wasn’t as perfect as I wished it was, but thanks to my trying, the boy finally started to open up rather than live closed in his little world.

This time Taemin played quite a long part of the melody, warm and soothing. I had to admit that it sounded very beautiful. I was curious if I’ll be able to convince him to play the whole piece for me someday. Winter entangled with snowflakes and messed with the violinist’s hair. The boy shivered. I felt an urge to nag him for practicing with an opened window. When days were warm there was no problem, but now, when the winter was back with its freezing presence, Taemin’s behavior became irresponsible. His thin body was so fragile, so easy to catch a cold.

I studied his slim silhouette carefully. And there was this unwanted topic again. This weird part of my brain, that I usually avoided to explore. I often analyzed Taemin’s attitude towards me, but when it comes to my own complicated feelings, I preferred to ignore their existence. Each attempt of understanding my weakness for this boy ended up with weird and alarming conclusions that I wasn’t ready for. I liked Taemin from the very beginning, there was no doubt about it. Even when he was harsh and unfriendly, I couldn’t help myself but care about this mysterious boy more and more with every passing day. But, in time, even though theoretically nothing changed, in fact something was different. The distance shortened. ‘Good. That’s what you wanted,’ I told myself. Indeed, I was happy with the way things changed. But it did not neutralize the faster beating of my heart or all these sensations in my stomach, that appeared each time I secretly watched my friend. I explained it to myself as a fascination caused by his extraordinary beauty. Such argument worked well. For some time. However, days passed and my weakness didn’t soften at all. Each meeting was only making things worse. Even now, observing him from the distance, my eyes kept on travelling through the beauty of the details, such as the delicate line of the lips or perfectly shaped curve of brows. In moments like this I always repeated my ambitious justification of my attitude in my mind. But each time my argument looked more absurdly.

Taemin put his violin away, half satisfied, half pouty. His movement woke me up from the trans. I quickly looked away and placed my eyes on the inside of my living room, that was in a total mess. Not like it was usually clean. Usually it was full of my own, private disorder, understandable only for me. That’s why now, when Key decided to clean it up, because ‘he won’t live in such a pigsty’, I felt lost and out of place.

‘Move your graceful and help me,’ I heard a grumpy voice, coming from behind a sofa. My eyes widened, as I noticed Kibum on the floor.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I asked in disbelief, watching my friend as he stood up. There was a pair of latex gloves on his hands.

‘Cleaning up!’ he snorted, offended. I discreetly placed myself with my back to the window, leaning on the sill, trying to act relaxed. In fact I was totally stressed, not sure if Kibum noticed my little peeking, or if he was too absorbed with the sofa. My weird behavior must have been obvious, because my friend frowned.

‘My dear, did you really think I don’t know about this?’ he asked with compassion, glancing tellingly at the window. I gulped loudly, as nervous, as if I did something unacceptable and now my dirty secret was discovered.

‘I’m just… it’s not like…’ I started to messily explain myself, but Kibum approached me and put his finger on my lips.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell him,’ he said, making me feel relief. ‘It will be way funnier when you do it yourself,’ he added, devilish happiness sparkling in his eyes. Oh, right. It was Kim Kibum. What else could I expect?

‘Key, I don’t…’ I tried again, but he raised his hand, making me silent.

‘I know what I need to know and that’s enough. You’d better get down to work. Are you planning to greet your guests in such a mess?’ he asked, spreading his arms and glancing at my living room judgingly. I blinked, confused.

‘Guests?’

‘Please, tell me you’re joking, Minho…’ he mumbled, resigned with my lack of understanding and I couldn’t do anything else than giving him a puzzled look. ‘It’s 2nd day of December today, does it tell you anything?’ He waited, but I didn’t answer. ‘Oh, there is your birthday in a week, you !’ he burst, hitting my arm. ‘It’s ridiculous that I remember it better than you!’

I breathed out loudly, realizing that he’s actually right. I didn’t expect something like that. I usually spend my birthday just like any other day of a year. Sometimes I go with someone to a cinema or a bar and that’s all. Nothing special.

‘I don’t recall me organizing a party, so you don’t have to do the cleaning, really…’ I said, frowning my eyebrows. My answer met with an irritated grimace painted on Kibum’s face.

‘Oh, no, no, no. You won’t duck out so easily, you antisocial sloth,’ he claimed, shaking his head in disagreement.

‘But who am I supposed to invite in your opinion?’ I asked, trying hard to destroy his ridiculous party idea.

‘Who? Taemin, of course,’ he answered as if it was totally obvious. I raised my eyebrows.

‘Only him? And what, we’ll organize a lovely little party for the three of us?’

‘That’s right.’ Key was way too cheerful, way too sneaky when he glanced at me with a wide smile. ‘A party with a great company,’ he claimed, satisfied. Then he turned around and came back to his cleaning. ‘I’m a great friend, aren’t I?’ I heard him mumbling under his breath.

~*~

‘Hey, frog-eyed! It’s been a long time!’ I heard, only a few seconds before I became locked in a pair of strong arms. I staggered, surprised, and glanced at the short man that stood in front of me. His face was painted with happiness.

‘Enough of this acts of love, you’re blocking the door.’ Taemin’s voice was even more harsh than usually, as he waited impatiently in the threshold of my flat. I quickly helped him to take his coat off and hanged it on a hanger.

‘What is this madmen doing here?’ I asked conspiratorially, behind Jonghyun’s back.

‘Do you think I can’t hear you?’ the uninvited guest spoke. Jonghyun glanced at me and Taemin. ‘I came back tomorrow and heard that Taemin’s dearest friend has a birthday. I decided to join the party!’ he explained enthusiastically. I think I was the only one who noticed Taemin’s face reddening from anger cheeks, when he heard the words dearest friend. Jonghyun turned around and peeked to the living room. He whistled quietly.

‘Are you sure the party is here?’ he asked, surprised. ‘A bit lame place, to be honest…’

I rubbed my face with my hand, already tired. I leaned to Taemin.

‘Did you really have to take him with you?’ I whispered, this time more quiet so that Jonghyun could not hear my words. Taemin snorted.

‘Do you really think I could stop him? He’s stubborn,’ he sharply said, but I knew that it was not like he couldn’t stop him. He just obviously didn’t want to. I decided not to comment. It was only then when I noticed a thing that Taemin brought here with him.

‘A violin?’ I asked in disbelief, making him flush. I wasn’t surprised with his reaction. He’s always been very sensitive about his art. I watched him as he clenched his fists and lowered his head. ‘Do you plan on playing something for me?’ I tried, still having a hard time to understand his intensions.

‘You wish,’ he growled laconically, but his voice was full of nervousness. Oh, right. Embarrassed Taemin equals aggressive Taemin. He dropped his violin case on the floor and walked through the hall. I rushed to help him in getting to the living room, but he didn’t need my guidance anymore. In past few weeks he became a regular guest in my flat and he managed to learn how to move around it. He knew exactly where to turn to get to particular rooms.

‘So, how are you doing?’ asked Jonghyun, as soon as me and Taemin entered the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, stealing salty sticks from the table. ‘I heard you’re working on a performance?’ he added with raised eyebrows. Taemin ignored him and headed to his favorite armchair. Judging by his expression, he was totally not in a mood for conversations today. I sighed loudly, bitterly recalling my thoughts from a week ago on how close to each other we are. Being a friend of Taemin was certainly not easy.

‘And who is it?’ I heard a surprised voice from behind my back. Kibum entered the room, carrying a serving plate full of salad with him. I was really curious who was supposed to eat all of this, but decided not to tell it out loud.

‘I may ask you the same thing,’ Jonghyun snapped back, just as surprised as my pink-haired friend.

‘It’s Jonghyun, I told you about him, hyung,’ spoke Taemin. Key’s eyes narrowed, as he studied the uninvited guest cautiously. Eventually, he smiled friendly.

‘You can call me Key. I’m Minho’s friend,’ he introduced himself. ‘So you’re the one that we owe this lovely acquaintance, right?’ He glanced at me and Taemin with a devilish sparkle in his eye. Jonghyun smiled brightly.

‘I knew I hit the bull’s eye,’ he responded, pointing me with his head. ‘I made a right decision. Are they getting along we