Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

September 2018  

How hard could it really be to write a script? How hard was it? All one had to do was write up a few words that had the right amounts of pretentious, intriguing, and heart-warming, then just make them make sense together. Then, you just repeat. Really, that’s all there was to it.  

But the dictionaries and thesauri were against Min Kyunghoon today, and he didn’t know whether words would ever make sense to him again. How did he attain this position anyway? What the fuck was going on in the world anymore? 

The air conditioner and the faint hum of his headphones were the only sounds that filled the empty white room around him, and neither of them were contributing to the plain blank Word document that sat before him. Other things that belonged to his colleagues were littered on his team’s work desk, and he tried drawing inspiration from them hours ago, but to no avail. He even tried writing about a pencil, but it sounded too identical to a script from last week. 

Kyunghoon officially hated everything that was happening to him at the moment.  

“Yah, Writer-nim,” a voice called to his right. Whose voice was it? Was it the trash can’s or the coffee’s? Anyway, the probability of either was high. “Are you coming down with constipation, or what? Why’s your face so…?” 

Kyunghoon heaved out a sigh, and closed his eyes for a good second before looking at the owner of the voice. Ah, apparently it was the trash can. Kim Yejoon hyung stared at him from the door panel, crossing his arms across his chest. He would look the slightest bit intimidating if Kyunghoon’s headache wasn’t the prime suspect for his untimely death at the moment.  

“Why don’t you try writing something, hyung?” he asked, both annoyed and hopeful that the asshole could actually write a few lines for him to start on.  

Yejoon hyung snorted, and then went to go sit down on the seat across him. It was technically the office of Kyunghoon’s team (which Yejoon was not a part of), but neither of them seemed to care. Some company was needed in order to alleviate stress and death.  

Yejoon hyung looked at him pointedly. “What’s wrong this time?” he asked, never breaking his gaze on Kyunghoon.  

“What do you mean, hyung?”  

His hyung relaxed his position a bit and then started munching on the eraser at the end of a discarded pencil. Gross. “I mean,” he started. “You usually can’t write when something’s up with you. Am I wrong?” 

Kyunghoon let his eyes flicker to the spider web at the corner of the ceiling, seeming to be thinking pensively about something. Honestly, there was sense to what Yejoon said. Hell, Yejoon hyung knew him like the back of his hand, given that they knew each other for more than ten years. But Kyunghoon wasn’t going to admit that.  

“Yes, and no,” he answered instead, relishing the eyeroll that came with his reply. “True, I can come off as stumped when something happens to me, and mope about it for a few hours, but at least I would be able to write about that emotion or something.” 

Yejoon hyung waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Yada, yada,” he said. “But still, Kyunghoon, you’ve never been stumped for this long. Do you know how long I was watching you from the door?” 

What the fuck. “What?” 

Yejoon hyung snorted again, as if his stalker-ish actions were not at all creepy. “I was there for like an hour, Kyunghoon-ah,” he said to his own question. “And you didn’t move an inch.” 

Well, that was worrying. But hyung’s actions were too. He didn’t know which gave him more of a shock, though.  

He thought about Yejoon’s words, but honestly, nothing was bothering him. Well, nothing he could remember at the moment was bothering him. He looked at the time (15:46), but there was no appointment scheduled on his daily calendar (aside from the fucking deadline of the script at 23:59). So, really, what the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hyung, really though, there’s nothing up with me,” he said, trying to sound the sincerest he could so that he wouldn’t be badgered further.  

After a long look at Kyunghoon’s face, hyung hummed in acknowledgement. “Well, why don’t we take a break?”  

Kyunghoon opened his mouth to protest, but his stomach grumbled before he could even speak. The damn bastard.  

“Did you even eat lunch?” 

“I thought I did,” Kyunghoon said defeatedly, already gathering his things to place them in his messenger bag. “I guess I was wrong.” 

Yejoon hyung whistled, already making his way to the door. “Yah, you’re really off today,” he remarked. “Might as well treat my little hoobae who can’t seem to take care of himself.” 

Kyunghoon put his hand on his heart and mocked praise. “My savior!” he exclaimed, hands reaching high to the heavens. “What would I do without you?” 

Yejoon hyung kicked his ass before strutting down the corridor. An asshole, indeed. 

# 

From the outside of the building, the main office of Santa Radio (yes, literally Santa) was a sight to behold. All clear windows that seemed to shine and sparkle under the sunlight, accompanied by the lightly elegant lobby that they possessed. Though their company did pride themselves with their workplace, they were also very mindful of their main asset – their radio programs.  

Originally, Kyunghoon never even thought of being a writer, much less one for a radio show. Eight years ago, he never even listened to the radio, thinking that the radio DJs were pretentious, and the music they played may have been either too old or young for his taste. Kyunghoon is still hard to please like that. 

Apparently, things changed and Kyunghoon wasn’t that bad at writing in the first place. Ergo, he was more or less forced to find a job to stop himself and his dog from starving to death, and he basically tried every occupation that he could put his hands on.  

Maybe he could start writing about working hard? A day after hard work? Desperation? After all, nothing in his more recent shows seemed to tackle that. Kyunghoon slurped up more of his convenience store ramyeon, stomach pleased that it hasn’t been disregarded nor forgotten.  

“I thought you were going to abuse my wallet when I said that I would buy you something, Kyunghoon-ah,” Yejoon hyung said, eating a Subway sandwich. “I could’ve gotten you one of these, y’know.” 

Kyunghoon waved his free hand in the air, not even bothering to look up from his cup. “Issfine,” he mumbled.  

“Suit yourself,” hyung said, wagging a disapproving finger in front of Kyunghoon’s nose. “You’ll be working yourself dry on fumes today. I won’t bring you to the clinic this time, Kyunghoon.” 

He scoffed at that, munching on the slippery noodles. “As if I’ll faint today,” he assured. “Are you even done with picking the music for your show? Isn’t it an hour before yours goes on air?” 

Yejoon hyung swallowed the remaining quarter of his sandwich in one bite (and Kyunghoon had to try his best not to gag for him). “Do you really think I’d spend my time with you if I had something to do?” he asked, wiping his fingers clean from oil residue. 

Kyunghoon just started at his hyung.  

“Fine, maybe I would,” Yejoon hyung surrendered, hands raised. “But that day’s not today. I liked the concept Lee PD picked out for us today – love.” 

Kyunghoon, once again, tried not to gag at the choice of a more or less common concept. It usually appeared once a week, and the ratings of the show spiked just a little bit higher when it was chosen. He didn’t understand exactly why other PDs and writers continue to pick it, but perhaps one of the factors was that it was easy for them to write about it.  

“Tut,” Yejoon hyung said, placing a finger on Kyunghoon’s lips. “Don’t complain about it again, you edgy ass piece of shit. The concept also suits our DJ anyways, so it really does benefit the show when we do it.” 

Kyunghoon smacked his hyung’s hand away from his lips and replaced them with his chopsticks carrying a large chunk of noodles and rice cakes. “It seems like Lee Teuk-sshi can’t pull off anything else,” he said, albeit a little bitterly. “But I’d admit his tone is nice for the audience.” 

Yejoon hyung shook his head a bit, frowning slightly. “Yeah, and unlike you he has a pleasing personality,” 

He put his hand on top of his heart and mocked hurt. “Oh my,” he exclaimed. “As if I would be hurt being compared to a fake ass idol.” 

Yehoon hyung rolled his eyes again. He didn’t know whether it was just his hyung’s habit or he just unconsciously rolls his eyes a thousand times whenever he’s with Kyunghoon. It was only an eyeroll more before they became permanently stuck at the back of his hyung’s sockets. 

“I’m not even replying,” hyung said, standing up to throw away his sandwich wrapper. “All I know is that he does the job well and gets it done. Nothing else I could want more from the guy.” 

Kyunghoon just scoffs. He never met Lee Teuk personally, but word does go around fast when his team is majorly comprised of people who actively love and support multiple idol groups.  

His team was more than overjoyed when they heard the news that their very own Lee Teuk of Super Junior was going to be working in a show in Santa Radio. They talked about him for more than two months before the hype died down.  

Kyunghoon drowned out the other information that he got from the group that wasn’t related to any dirt or scandals that the guy had (e.g. his three meals, the brands of the clothes he wore, his perfume of the week). He knows that the guy’s had his fair share of experience with multiple shows and radio shows aside from the idol business. Another thing he does know is that the guy doesn’t really talk or brag to anyone else in this establishment aside from his team. Recluse, and fairly a good DJ, Kyunghoon doesn’t have a reason to hate him, but it’s not like he doesn’t have a reason not to hate him.  

“You’re probably looking for reasons to hate the guy aside from your ‘anti-idol’ prejudice,” Yejoon hyung remarked, standing beside Kyunghoon. “But as you’ve said, I have my program to attend to. Are you done yet?” 

Kyunghoon shook his head, nodding to his half full ramyeon cup. “Go ahead, hyung, I’ll work on my script down here,” 

“’Kay, Kyunghoon-ah,” his hyung said, giving him a (too strong) pat on the shoulder. “See you later.” 

The chime of the convenience store door signaled his departure, and Kyunghoon was alone again. Maybe he wasn’t really alone, since the cashier seemed to be looking at him (or staring at him) from a distance, but he really had no one to talk to again. Well, this was fine.  

Kyunghoon honestly liked working in places that were not-his-office, but sometimes a stroll outside was too tedious and tiring without any motivation or (figurative or literal) push. He studied the trees and tried to form a story with the leaves, or how we needed them to live. Nah, that wasn’t the way to go for tonight. The clouds were probably something that was too light for his program, and he honestly didn’t want the word ‘fluffy’ to grace his document. Well then, he’d just go with the tired and grieving concept that he had thought about moments ago.  

Taking out his laptop, Kyunghoon finally had a good idea about what he wanted for the script, and how he wanted to present it. Everything was better when his mind wasn’t being uncooperative.  

Kyunghoon closed his eyes for a bit, trying to picture how one would feel like after a day of work, when everything literally went to shit, and when nothing was really solved by the end of the day. He felt the emptiness that came with the effort, the fatigue that came with the pursuit of salvation, the lifelessness that came after everything. He breathed in.  

His head was slumped on the bus window, head hanging low with his breaths coming out laboured . It had been hours since his last meal, but his stomach didn’t seem to complain as much as it should have been. His heart beat steadily against his rib cage, but it wasn’t beating fast enough. Blood rushed through his system as cold as the approaching winter air, and he felt the chill when he exhaled through his throat.   

A lead weight rested against his shoulders when he exited the bus, threatening to push him down under the ground. His feet weren’t moving as they should have – they sunk too low into the pavement, and they dragged a little too much. His eyes were stuck on the dull grey of the street beneath his feet, and he couldn’t even bring himself to face anyone who passed by.   

He felt the disappointment in himself that served as his cloak, wrapping its arms around his back and whispering terrible things in his ear. Its breath that purred against the shell of his ear caused the air around him to drop a few more degrees, and filled his lungs with shards of glass. The hand that was wrapped around his eyes made him see the streets, the shops, and the people around him as a world that was inherently against him.   

He was losing track of time, as each second felt like an hour and each step felt like it was bringing him even farther from his destination rather than closer. He couldn’t stand the people around him, he couldn’t stand the lively streets he was walking when he could have been doing better in his office, doing more.  

T hen he saw the bright , yellow lights that bathed his quaint house, and he smelled the home-cooked meal that was waiting for him in the living room. His chest thawed, and he left the cloak on the porch outside the door. He felt that his hand was growing closer to the comforting flame when he laid his hand on the door knob and twisted.   

An immediate embrace of warmth engulfed him as he made his way inside, and he felt how the lead weights had turned into clouds when those hands were wrapped around his shoulders. He felt the warm press of happiness as he drew them closer, and he closed his eyes to breathe in the scent of life and reward.  

W hen he opened his eyes again, the world was in warm tones – the warmest tones coming from the one standing in front of him, hands anchoring him to them. Warm eyes were looking directly at him, and they began to speak, saying –   

“Yah! Min Kyunghoon!” 

Kyunghoon’s hands stopped typing, and it took him every ounce of his strength not to turn and punch someone in the eye. That specific someone being his own damn producer, who Kyunghoon thought wanted the best for the program, and more specifically their script. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and turned slightly towards Yoo Woohyun, the utter ballsack.  

“Yejoon told me you were here like, two hours ago,” Woohyun hyung explained, moving to sit across where he was. “I thought you would have left by now, but it’s good to see that your ass is still there.” 

Kyunghoon rolled his eyes. “I was busy writing this long overdue script until you interrupted me,” he said. “But why were you looking for me?” My god, why was his presence in such high demand these days?  

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you that it will be Junyoung-sshi’s last two weeks on the program,” Woohyun said casually, and Kyunghoon’s jaw dropped.  

Junyoung was a great DJ who honestly had the voice and the honest to God skill to use it on the radio. Being a relatively renowned singer, he drew in enough attention to the program with his reputation, while not overpowering the program in itself, which was honestly a big win on the team’s part. Aside from that, Junyoung was cooperative to work with, and even pointed out a few things with the script that help Kyunghoon immensely. Overall, he seemed invested and involved with the program down to its core, so naturally, Kyunghoon wondered why the fuck did he want out? 

He cleared his throat, schooling his expression to something that said ‘that’s shocking, but my world’s not going to end’ rather than ‘that’s fucking disgusting news and God is against me and the apocalypse is coming’. “Since when was he considering leaving the program?” 

Woohyun hyung tried to take a peek at his tablet screen from where he was seated before Kyunghoon smacked his hand away. “Well, we’ve been in conversation ever since his company wanted him to go back into writing more music and participating in acting all of a sudden,” hyung stated, giving him a dirty look. “That was three months ago, and now they’ve finalized it!” 

“Did Junyoung-sshi want to leave the show?” Kyunghoon asked, wondering how three whole months of important information just happened to slip under his radar.  

“Well, it wasn’t really a decision he planned on, nor was willing to make, but it was best for him, considering that he wanted to write new songs and all that singer shit,” his hyung explained, looking at Kyunghoon pointedly.  

He drew a hand through his hair, trying his best not to feel too sad about the departure. He’s had multiple programs and DJs to work with throughout the eight-ish years he had been in the industry, but this kind of news was never that easy for Kyunghoon to hear. After all, he never did like the endings.  

“How come none of this was made aware to me before today?” 

Woohyun hyung looked at him skeptically. “Haven’t you been reading the update emails I’ve sent you?” 

Well, shit. “I’m not sure I-I’ve been receiving them lately,” he lied. In truth, Kyunghoon didn’t bother to read any of the emails that have been sent to him by Woohyun hyung since he thought the were pretty boring. Kyunghoon liked to think that he knew what things have been going on simply through practical experience or word-of-mouth, but apparently, he was wrong.  

“Hmm,” Woohyung hyung hummed, surprisingly nonchalant about Kyunghoon’s apparent oblivion and apathy towards office communication. “At least you know now.” 

A stretch of silence proceeded between them before Kyunghoon started to type a few more things in the script, mildly concerning the departure of their DJ. “Then, is there any news regarding the new DJ we’ll be having?”  

Woohyun hyung then stilled suddenly, hands closed so tight that they turned white. “Well, Kyunghoon-ah, in all honesty,” he started, evading his eye contact. It took a few more seconds until hyung continued his sentence. “I thought you’d have read it from the most recent update email. The program’s getting cancelled.” 

Kyunghoon’s world stopped, and his hands turned cold.  

“Wha–“ 

Then Woohyun hyung burst out laughing, hands banging on the convenience store table so hard that the part-timer behind them jumped a little from where she was standing. He laughed his heart out like a coyote, coughing out shrill notes of humour. What the fuck? 

“Kyu-Kyunghoon-ah,” he said in between laughs. “You should have seen your face!” 

This bastard was getting it now, Kyunghoon thought as he leaned over the table and punched his own producer in the shoulder. Damn the positional hierarchy that existed in society, he deserved it.  

His hyung coughed out the rest of his laugh, and tried to school himself back into being a human being once again. “I hope that will teach you to start reading work-related emails rather than deleting them off your inbox.” 

Kyunghoon stifled a groan, and started to keep his hands busy on the keyboard again. He refused to give Woohyun hyung the satisfaction of looking him in the eye, allowing him to see the devastation and embarrassment that still lived in there. Nevertheless, Kyunghoon did open his browser and un-block Woohyun hyung’s email. Fuck him. 

“But to answer your question,” hyung said, voice professional once again. “We’ve started screening a few people who have been willing to assume the position. Gladly, ‘Walking in the Moonlight’ is a fairly well-known program, so most of the candidates aren’t monotonous pains in the ass.” 

“Who’s the most promising one so far?” 

Woohyun hyung stopped a moment to think. “Well, out of the ones that we’ve interviewed so far, it’s Park Jinyoung from an idol group (which you probably hate already) and – to our surprise – Kim Woobin,” he replied. “Both of them have the tone that suits the recurring concepts of our program, and they’re actually good at…well, speaking.” 

Kyunghoon breathed a sigh of relief. He was thankful that his team remained unbiased regarding the skill of a person, and wasn’t that easily swayed by good looks, nor fame. Yet, he was still unsettled by the fact that he wasn’t there for the interviews that have already transpired. Damn him and his ignorance.  

“Are there any more people that need to be screened?” he asked, hopefully. He liked to participate in screenings for potential DJs, even if they were usually during the last batch (his list of blocked e-mail addresses was long), and fuck anyone who thought that a program would continue to run without him interfering with it in some way.  

Woohyun hyung brightened up at that, and nodded. “I’ll send you the list of people to be screened later. It’s happening tomorrow at two-thirty in the afternoon, so I hope you won’t be too busy sleeping in your room to come.” 

He rolled his eyes, opting to scroll through and correct whatever mistakes that popped up during his two hours of ramen-induced writing. “No matter how low of a standard you put me in, I take my punctuality seriously, hyung,” he said.  

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kyunghoonie,” hyung said, standing up and patting Kyunghoon’s shoulder in the process. “Any other information I’ll need you to know, I’m going to expect you to find it in your inbox.” 

Woohyun hyung gave him a pointed look before he made his way out of the convenience store, the little bell chiming in his stead.  

The sun was already coming down from where it was, casting orange hues on the objects around him. Kyunghoon didn’t notice time passing (as usual), and it always shocked him to feel how much time had passed when he was done working. It was weird to know how a lot of things had changed around him even though he was just there, staying still and unmoving. He yawned.  

After finally finishing the script he was slaving over for the past day, he packed the remainder of his things and made his way out of the convenience store at last.  

He felt light. 

# 

Apparently, that feeling of lightness and weightlessness didn’t last him long, as they were on the fourth hopeful baby bird and Kyunghoon wanted his ears to bleed and die. He thought that as it was their third day of screening possible people for the position, they would be stuck with only the more or less best people as the ours drawled by. Even the names on the goddamn list of people lulled him into a false sense of security, and he knew that if ever he wanted a child, he would name them in a way that truly represented who they were. Hell, he'd already named him baby bird with how he was wasting their time by literally breathing when he should have been reciting poetry.  

All the people had to do was answer a few professional and formal questions regarding themselves, answer why they are interested in cooperating with the program, and trying to appeal to them by reciting whatever they wanted to. It was simple, in Kyunghoon’s standards, so his patience was running thin at every flat note he heard from three of the people that came and went.  

Kyunghoon ran a hand through his hair, faintly pulling on his curly strands. The first one they had for today was by far the best on for this lot. Her name was Kim Juna, and she could honestly convince Kyunghoon that he had six toes just by the hypnotizing tone of her voice. It suited the program, and she had a special thing with her voice that Woohyun hyung probably knows better than he does.  

He wonders what brought baby bird into this position, when he apparently seems to lack a little too much for a DJ. Kyunghoon flips through his stack of resumes and finds the right one, finally seeing what qualified him to be contacted by his team. The answer was: a direct, familial relation to one of the directors of the company, and a decorated list of acting gigs that the guy did (mostly consisting of series regulars rather than permanent roles).  

After a minute of watching baby bird flutter around the poem that he was trying (very desperately) to recite with emotion, he finally finished and flashed them a smile. Kyunghoon tried his best to reciprocate, but it came out looking like a strangled grimace. Kyunghoon found it hard to lie, even when it would be the politest thing to do.  

“Well, Kim Youngmin-sshi,” Woohyun hyung started, plastering the most stoic face that Kyunghoonhad seen him make. “We appreciate your apparent interest in the program, proven by the multiple lines you’ve cited used in our runs. We’ll deliberate seriously regarding your acceptance in the team.” 

The optimistic undertone in his hyung’s words to the young man apparently lifted his spirits up, and he made his way to the door at the gesture made by Woohyun hyung. It was sad to see him so happy over a false sentiment, but he couldn’t care less about the man he saw perform poorly.  

“Are we actually going to deliberate that seriously about him?” Kim Minzy asked, more-or-less slumping her torso on the table in front of her.  

Kyunghoon liked Minzy, both as a person and as a colleague. She was in-charge of the music list that they were to play during the show, and also handled more of the correspondence between the whole community than Woohyun hyung was (though he would never admit to such). She was studious, and honestly was particular about everything, which made sure that their show flowed steadily and collectedly. Even though she was there after leaving her previous show, she didn’t take long to get into the family that was building between the team.  

Woohyun sighed and turned to look at her. “We can’t just break their spirit right on the spot,” he said. “Besides, we might find him good after looking back at the audition.” 

“I doubt that will happen, considering how it sounded like he was choking on bird feathers throughout the whole time he was reading,” Kyunghoon pointed out, striking out the name from his list.  

Minzy made a sound of approval. “His voice was also too high pitched for the program. I don’t think it would blend in with any mellow song that would be playing throughout the program.” 

Woohyun hyung looked between the two of them, and giving them dirty looks. “You two really don’t give people chances, do you?”  

The two hummed in unison, while their producer’s grunt resonated through the white walls around them. 

Opting to be prepared with a set of expectations on their fifth round of auditions, Kyunghoon started to flip through the next name on the list. To his actual surprise, it was a name he knew. He needed to put on his reading glasses just to make sure he wasn’t going blind all of a sudden. At the sound of Minzy’s squeal, apparently he wasn’t.  

Lo and behold, they were going to have the Universe’s Star himself audition for the a position in the show. Kyunghoon wasn’t having it.  

“Can we just skip him? I mean…,” Kyunghoon offered, hiding the annoyance and dread in his voice with his usual airy tone. Woohyun just shook his head in response, and signaled the assistant at the door to let the idol inside the room.  

At the first sound of his footsteps, Kyunghoon’s muscles turned into lead, and his feet were suddenly grounded to the floor. His breath came with a chill down his throat, and he would much like to be out of the room. He trusted the two of them enough to make a decision about the man, and he couldn’t give less of a shit regarding him. 

He let out a shaky breath. Woohyun’s hand squeezed Kyunghoon’s leg discreetly under the table.  

Minzy didn’t even try to hide the dreamy sigh that left her throat as the man entered the room, smiling disgustingly brightly at the woman that let him in. He greeted the three of them warmly with polite bows before he took his seat, still wearing an appallingly wide grin on his face. He reckoned that the man would become the Joker at the sheer amount of time the other had to smile throughout the day.  

He slowly sat up straighter, ignoring the dull tremor in his right hand which left feint lines of ink to decorate the borders of his paper. He looked at the man again, telling his emotions to go fuck themselves. 

The man spared smiles to Minzy (whose hand slipped suspiciously, which made her risk falling from her chair), Woohyun hyung (who plastered his work smile on his face), and even Kyunghoon. He gave him an uninterested glare in return. The other didn’t even falter at the look, and proceeded to wait for the interview to commence.  

Kyunghoon’s chest constricted at the nonchalance that glazed his movements, and he ducked his head and tried to burn holes into the paper. If only he too would be that much of a bastard to let go of the past like that. Damn him. Fuck him. 

He let out a breath between his teeth. He willed his heartbeat to slow down even just a little bit, especially if it wanted it’s own person to be able to live for another minute and a half. 

“Good afternoon, Kim Heechul-sshi,” Woohyun hyung greeted politely, voice echoing through the room. “My name is Yoo Woohyun, the producer for the program, ‘Walking in the Moonlight’, and I’m happy to hear your interest in applying for the position of DJ.” 

Heechul-sshi waved a hand and chuckled lightly. “It is an honour to be a candidate for your program. You have no idea how my members and even my dog enjoys tuning into the program every Thursday and Friday.” 

Kyunghoon looked up and raised an eyebrow, skeptical if the man actually tuned in or, like the other candidates, knew the surface level knowledge of the program. Well, it wasn’t the first time that lie was used on him today, if ever.  

He felt a bead of sweat go down his spine. 

Woohyun hyung drilled the man through the same questions as the other candidates (e.g. what do you expect for in a program, what were the things that he looked forward to if accepted), and he answered in the same professional earnest. It surprised Kyunghoon how the man wasn’t trying to charm his way through the interview, and actually gave constructive answers. Well, at least Kyunghoon could see how he wasn’t that much of an assuming asshole who thought that with one hair-flip too many, he would get the position. He shuddered, and Woohyun pat his thigh a bit in response.  

Instead of actually paying attention to what the guy was saying, since it wasn’t particularly his scope to care about those things, being the writer, he analyzed the man who Kyunghoon hadn’t seen in more than ten years. It was one way to keep his mind preoccupied, even if he was still the man who he was thinking of.   

No longer was he as thin and waif-like when he was on the stage a decade ago. By no means was he built either, and on the contrary, he was lean and had a good balance of muscle and a thin layer of fat in him. His posture was relaxed and accommodating, not arrogant and closed-off as it had been before. His face had matured, giving him stronger and sharper angles, rather than the feminine and delicate facial structure that he possessed then. Kyunghoon also noted that his eyes were softer and kinder than they had been to him then – hawk-like and predatory.  

What surprised Kyunghoon too, though belatedly, was his voice.  

–What do you want from me, rookie?, he asks, eyes glowering upon him – deadly. His feet are lead, and the thought of what he was here to do escapes him. All he knows is that his voice is like poison, seeping through his veins and stopping his blood from flowing, trying to suck the life out of him– 

Kyunghoon shudders, and focuses on the now – the reality that is existing. He adjusts his glasses so that he can actually read the words on the paper beneath him rather than see them blur themselves out of existence. He breathes again, steadily through his nose, and concentrates on whatever conversation is being shared between his friend and the other man.  

“…and you are particularly experienced with multiple variety shows, but I have to ask, why do you want to move back into the radio business?” Woohyun hyung asks, voice grounding Kyunghoon to the white room with white chairs and a mahogany table beneath his fingers. He breathes deeply between his nostrils, and apparently isn’t the only one to do so. 

The man across Kyunghoon also takes a deep breath, and looks away into the ceiling, thinking hard. Kyunghoon doesn’t give a rat’s ass about whatever the guy has to say, but with the air trying to escape his lungs and his eyes faintly stinging red, he needs an anchor. He’s doing everything in his power not to appear weak now, not when he can reject the man here and now after everything.  

“I wanted to work with you since I fell in love with your words.” 

Kyunghoon’s breathing comes to a halt. He looks up from the paper and straight into the other man’s chesnut brown eyes. He feels the sea green calmness from the other man and draws it into himself in the hopes that it would help. His eyes flicker off somewhere to the right. 

At the knowledge of Kyunghoon’s attention, the man smiles politely at him before continuing. “Somehow, your use of mundane and objects and scenarios resonated within me, and I found myself comforted with the words shared by Joonyoung-sshi,” he said, chuckling lightly as if remembering a particularly fond moment. “It was if he was talking to me directly.” 

He cleared his throat before continuing. “Though, as you’ve said,” he continues. “I’ve been working in the world of variety entertainment that is broadcasted through the television, I think that there’s something more intimate about the comfort provided by a radio. A voice is more proof of life and company than the physical presence of a person, surprisingly. I think that the grounded aspect of your content is what draws people closer to the program, and makes them find warmth in it. The combination of both the intimacy of the voice and the reality emphasized by the show itself is what made me fall in love with the program, after listening to it after a couple of times.  

“To correct you though, I don’t intend to move back into the radio. I mean to integrate myself into your program solely, since I like it that much. After all, ‘the rarity of a piece of art that causes one to latch onto it for as long as they can.’” 

Kyunghoon keeps his gaze intent on the man, his face not showing any signs of flattery nor adoration at the rather detailed and impressive answer that he gave to Woohyun hyung’s question. He doesn’t notice how genuine his voice sounded while expounding on his answer. He does not dwell on the fact that he speaks to them like a friend (regardless of the honorifics). He doesn’t pay mind to how he used one of Kyunghoon’s lines from his script that was broadcasted three years ago. He doesn’t even think of the fact that his voice actually matched what they wanted for the program (i.e. bright, mellow, the resounding hum of a tenor, a little laugh that sounded as calm as the running river, serious like the voice a mother would use when sending her child to bed).  

Instead, Kyunghoon looks to his right, where both Minzy and Woohyun hyung have approving smiles on their faces. He feels the low bubble of anger in his veins, and doesn’t dare look at the man’s face for the duration of the interview. He successfully drowns out the sound of his calm voice reading out his piece (it was a line from The Little Prince, the one about how special his Rose was).  

Much to Kyunghoon’s delight, he spares a glance at the man’s back as he departs from the room. He didn’t even bother returning the pleasantries that the other offered, and immediately slackened when the resounding ‘click’ of the door went to his ears. 

Woohyun hyung immediately hummed in approval as he started to scan through the man’s resume for the enth time in the half hour they spent in the interview. “I honestly like the man,” he said, wearing a small smile on his face. “I thought he was going to be too loud and happy for the program, but apparently, I’m wrong.” 

Minzy wagged a finger between him and Kyunghoon. “You two underestimate Heechul-sshi! All that experience for thirteen years in the industry didn’t give him nothing to be proud of!” 

Kyunghoon just sighed, and turned to look at his list of names.  

“Now that I’m thinking of it, Park Jinyoung-sshi and Kim Woobin-sshi’s voices were too low for the program,” Woohyun said belatedly, scribbling something onto his pieces of paper. “I think that his pitch is just right.” 

Their female colleague nodded her head profusely, a big smile on her face.  

Regardless of whether or not the man’s skilled bested the previous candidate’s, he couldn’t let his own prejudices and sentiments cloud his judgement. Honestly, his answers appealed to Woohyun (obviously), and his flattery regarding the program and Kyunghoon’s writing was apparent enough that it stroked the right places. He also had more than average knowledge regarding the program, and seemed to know at it wanted to achieve. Lastly, God be damned, he really did have a nice voice (even when it wasn’t singing.  

He forgot entirely whatever the hell Kim Juna did that afternoon, and absent-mindedly crossed out her name in the list Kyunghoon had made. Begrudgingly, where the man’s name was, he put a tiny asterisk, rather than the check mark that he put beside Juna’s name earlier. At the bottom of the page, he put a footnote that read: actually a great dj, but prepare to be alcoholic once decided as one. 

He rubbed his eyes harshly before turning to see the next candidate they had for DJ. 

# 

Later on, Kyunghoon notices that the other man’s voice had calmed him down, but he just chalks it off to him leeching off the other’s man’s emotions. 

# 

“Kyunghoonie, everyone here loves you, but damn,” Yejoon hyung said, voice as unsteady as his friend himself. “You’ve got to let go.” 

Kyunghoon stifled a laugh and looked at his hyung. “Fucking rich for you to say, Mr. It-Takes-Me-Two-Months-To-Move-On-From-A-Break-Up.” 

He took another swing of soju before he noticed that he was, in fact, almost on the way to wasted on a weeknight. Well, this week really did call for it, with Woohyun hyung about to contact Kim Heechul-sshi regarding the fact that yes, he was going to be the new DJ for ‘Walking in the Moonlingt’. He drowned the whole bottle of soju in one go.  

Junki hyung wrapped an arm around him, patting him strongly on the back. Ever since he got married and had a son, Shin Junki hyung didn’t drink as strongly as he did before. Being the second youngest in their group, he would often fuck everything and drink until he passed out on the sticky bar table but now, responsibility was a good look on him as he was mothering the group. It was a good change, and everyone was fine with it – supportive, actually.  

“For how professional you can be about some things,” Woohyun hyung starts, a faint pink dusting his own cheeks as he munches on some corn chips. “I can’t believe you’re letting this one get to you the most.” 

He waved a dismissive hand in the general direction of where Woohyun hyung was seated across from himself, giving Woohyun hyung (or someone else) a stink eye. “I just never thought that…that…,” Kyunghoon tried to say. Honestly, thinking about it now, he didn’t know if he had any expectations or thoughts about the man until two days ago.  

“People change Kyunghoon-ah,” Junki hyung said, probably knowing what he was specifically pondering about. “And I doubt that he really knows anything about what happened then.” 

Seonghee hyung nodded at what Junki hyung said, raising his glass to the man. Being the other married and family-bearing asshole of their group, it seemed as if they also became part-time psychologists or advisors in the process. Minus the fact that Son Seonghee hyung was an actual psychiatrist. 

“Both of you were hot-blooded teenagers thrust into fame,” Seonghee supplies, showing a supportive smile. “Two large egos that burn hot usually come to fight each other one way or another.” 

“All of you were like that too!” Kyunghoon reminded, wagging his finger accusingly at his best friends. “We were all on the same boat at the time, but it’s like I’m the only one that remembers that.” 

Yejoon hyung sighed and rolled his eyes, as if Kyunghoon had said some bullshit (which he had not, the fucker). “Yes, we were,” he conceded. “But we grew out of those times, even though they will always mark a very important time in our lives.” 

His friends chorused their affirmations, and were nodding. Goddamn, was he really that unreasonable when it came to a broken time of his life? 

“Is there really something that bad about holding a grudge against him?” he asked, needing a concrete answer rather than being subject to reading between the lines.  

“Well,” Woohyun hyung started, already on his fifth soju bottle. “I understand that you are actually a little justified to still be hurt about the incident then, and it’s really not my place to meddle with your emotions when you know them best, but just know this Kyunghoon-ah: you can’t let him get into your bones too much to the point that it interferes with your work.” 

Yejoon hyung nodded. “Speaking from someone who’s also in the field,” he started, looking him pointedly in the eye. “Keep your personal grudges away from your professional work…well, unless he actually motivates you to write something.” 

“Yeah,” Kyunghoon said with a grimace on his face. “As if I would even waste a few words on his dumb ass.” 

# 

The low rumble of Junyoung’s voice filled the studio, and Kyunghoon found himself a little melancholy at the fact that it was going to be the man’s second to the last time that he would be there. Still, Kyunghoon diligently typed down notes on his monitor, instructing Junyoung-shhi to sound brighter, laugh a little, and the like. It seemed as if the sadness didn’t resonate only within himself.  

Kyunghoon peeked to take a look at Junyoung’s face as he read the script and it was always the same as the other times he was here in the recording room. His eyes were only focused on the script for most of the time, sporadically flickering between it, the monitor, and Woohyun hyung’s pleased face in case he had gestured anything. His (rather large) ears were tucked under headphones, one hand pressed lightly on one side, as if it was a habit.  

Junyoung-sshi was a very diligent member of the team, and he poured his heart into doing what he was supposed to do here, and that was to talk to whoever was listening. He was extremely careful of what he was to say, and how he would say it, yet it would come out as natural rather than calculated. He was amazing when it came to talking to anyone across the line, and was also capable of answering their questions without Kyunghoon’s help (which was great for both parties since Kyunghoon wasn’t great at answering questions). He even took them out to go for a drink sometimes after their show – not that that was what Kyunghoon liked the best about him (he swears). 

His heart hung heavy with the act that today, Junyoung-sshi’s lips were turned down by the slightest fraction, and that made his heart drop to his feet.  

It was nearing the end of the show, and Junyoung had already began to talk about how fulfilling it was to come home after a day of hard work, sit down, and smile about the sweet, short stories that were shared over the dinner table. 

“…and even when you feel like you’ve been drained of everything that makes you happy, just one touch is enough to bring you back to life,” Junyoung said, sounding overjoyed as if it was actually happening to him. “So allow that one touch, and don’t be alone especially when you need it.” 

He shudders as he types the words to the monitor. Junyoung-sshi, in your own words, announce. 

The other man’s eyes go a little wide as he reads the words, but his words don’t falter. He looks at Kyunghoon and gives him a small smile, and that comforts him well enough. He shrugs in response. I didn’t know how to put it into script, he mouths.  

Junyoung-sshi clears his throat as he recites the last words of the printed script, then starts. “Well, although it may have been revealed on a short notice, this is going to be my second to the last appearance on the show.” 

He turns to look at the gathering of fans that peek through the clear glass window, and flashes them a blinding smile. Ugh, he hated how the guy could make a thousand women melt into the ground just by breathing. He remembered when he had the same ability, but shoved it aside for later bitterness.  

At the sound of their shocks of surprise mingled with sadness, he turns back to look to the team. “It is a decision that has been made so that I could also pursue the other things that I love doing, and I hope that you’ll still be supporting me with my other endeavors aside from the radio show.” 

He turned to look at his fellow colleagues, and he saw the Minzy was already shedding her tears while Woohyun hyung was silently trying to hide his own. He silently laughed at the sight of the two of them moping, until he realized that his eyes also harbored unshed tears. Sentiment can go choke in the corner. 

“Anyways,” Junyoung started, clearing his throat again, seemingly trying his hardest not to cry. “Now is not the time for goodbyes as you’ll see me next week as we talk to each other, walking under the moonlight.” 

Woohyun hyung flashed a thumbs up at the two of them, and started to play their ending song for the session. The four of them turned to each other and smiled wordlessly, stuck in the afterglow of a good show. Kyunghoon really loved his team as it was, and saw that they all felt the same. It would be hard to see Junyoung go after almost three years of being together on the program.  

He felt an arm snake across his shoulders, then pat him strongly on the back. “Thank you for another great script today, Kyunghoon-sshi,” Junyoung said, a smile gracing his face. The screams of the fans were also resonant within the recording room, and he was grateful for the fact that he was born with ears that were superior than most.  

“Well, I can’t help the fact that I was born with this talent,”he said, shrugging. The best way he knew how to deal with a compliment was to take it with fuckery and cockiness, and that worked all the time.  

Junyoung-sshi laughed lightly at the remark, and moved to go into the control room. Kyunghoon sighed fondly, and started to turn off the monitors and equipment. He looked down on Junyoung’s table to see his coffee, which he didn’t even drink, and felt the familiar buzz of annoyance make its way into his system. There were a lot of things he was accustomed to with Junyoung-sshi, and he wasn’t that excited to see him trying to adapt to another set of quirks to get used to. 

By no means was Junyoung-sshi his first DJ to work with, but he is certainly the one that influenced him the most. Even though he was a downright asshole to the other man in the beginning of their time working together, Junyoung acted like Kyunghoon had told him that his hair looked nice when he really said ‘the way you say your lines sound like shit’. That was when he really began to grow on Kyunghoon. 

He taught Kyunghoon to be more accepting of ad-libs – that he could trust somebody else with what they had to do. Junyoung even gave Kyunghoon some pointers when writing scripts for God’s sake. Then, Kyunghoon learned that he wasn’t the only one who was working there.  

–moonlight shone through the window to their right, illuminating only a portion of their recording room. ‘Just know this Kyunghoon-sshi,’ he said, tapping his fingers against their wooden desk. ‘You’re not the only one who’s trying, and you should accept the help that is given to you. Woohyun-sshi, Minzy-sshi, and I are you allies, and just learn to accept us as we are,’ he continued, then a smile appeared on both of their faces, marking the beginning of– 

A tap on the glass startled Kyunghoon out of his reverie, then say Minzy there, waving at him wildly. We’re out to get wasted bitch!, she mouthed. The three of them were beckoning Kyunghoon to join them, tears no longer visible on their faces. He shrugged, getting the tension out of his shoulders, and flipped the last switch which bathed him in the darkness, the only light coming from where his friends stood. 

# 

It had been two weeks from the last time they went out together as a team, and now it was only the three of them going out for a drink.  

On the day that Junyoung-sshi ended his last show, he sat there on their desk silent for a few moments. In fact, even after his fans had already left to begin crowding the entrance of the building, the four of them sat motionless for about ten minutes or so. The air around them was heavy with words that were both said and unsaid, leaving them grounded and pressed down to their chairs.  

Only the sounds of breathing were heard from both rooms, with the occasional white noise further exemplifying their silence. It was as if they were too afraid to break their last moment together, which was actually kind of false since a meet-up wouldn’t go amiss (considering how much of a leech Minzy could be). Either way, the grief and sadness of a goodbye was weighing down on his tongue, but he willed it to stay there since he was too much of a coward to make permanent Junyoung-sshi’s departure.  

“Thank you,” 

Junyoung broke the silence, looking Kyunghoon square in the eye. All of the other words he had to say seemed to be there, and he understood too well. He looked away, eyes burning. 

“Thank you,” he then said to Woohyun hyung, and gave him a strong yet sad smile. Woohyun hyung nodded in response, and said the same, voice echoing around the room. 

“And thank you,” he then said to Minzy. The finality of his tone was apparent, and Minzy burst into tears once Junyoung-sshi looked at her.  

They were all big, sobbing messes, and even then Junyoung-sshi had the audacity to laugh. None of them were startled by this, and they continued to sniffle their way through the rest of the hour, still not rising up from where they sat. 

They left their control rooms in light conversation, arm in arm, as if it were just another day doing their job. As if next week, Thursday, it would still be the four of them gathering together in their office, talking about their show. 

It wasn’t as if they were awkward without Junyoung, but it fucking felt like it. Even though Kyunghoon was annoyed with his, he found that he couldn’t bring himself to speak up without him feeling the need to ask Junyoung about it. Woohyun was his best friend, but even he seemed to be a second interest in comparison to their absent member.   

They made their way silently to the restaurant near Santa Radio, and quietly made their way to their usual seats. They ordered the same thing they ordered (three orders of chicken in varied flavours and one order of bulgogi), and almost ordered four bottles of soju instead of three, which caused them to shudder before correcting themselves. It was like they were in mourning. 

For all that Kyunghoon could tolerate and learn to live with, he couldn’t stand being in a restaurant and moping in public. He did his moping in private, and the empty packets of chips and bottles that surrounded his sofa-turned-bed was testament to that. He wasn’t going to cry on the more-or-less expensive food that he was going to pay for. Not today.  

He slapped the table, causing Woohyun hyung and Minzy to jump (and even a few people from the table beside them, but he didn’t particularly care). “I know it fucking sucks that we’re literally replacing Junyoung-sshi with someone else, much less an idol,” he started, shushing the two as they were about to retort to his remark. “But we are not brooding together in a public place! I know I’m a hypocrite, but let’s accept the new situation with open arms, like warriors!” 

Woohyun hyung just shook his head and looked away from Kyunghoon as he raised his voice. Minzy just looked shocked, but her mood already seemed to shift into something lighter than melancholy. It was good enough.  

He waited a few seconds for any of them to initiate conversation, but no one even opened their mouth. He was going to have to force it then. “Say, Minzy, what’s the latest news about Lee Teuk-sshi?” 

Perking up, she then went on a tangent regarding his latest instagram posts, bragging in his stead regarding the new products he was able to buy for his dog (what was it’s name? Cummie? Kool-aid?), though it wasn’t as vibrant as before. Woohyun also butted in her monologue, commenting how pointless it is to spend that much on a dog, which offended both Minzy and Kyunghoon and started a debate on how dogs are also in need of pampering, love, and affection. Woohyun hyung said something about how dogs weren’t capitalists and had no concept of materialistic needs and wants, which Kyunghoon conceded to, but Minzy countered with how humans were just bred into those concepts, and could just as well be the same for dogs. 

Their conversation, though very pointless, seemed to aid a few bruises that were hurting their friendship. They could miss the guy all they wanted, and Kyunghoon wanted to do just that, but he thought that his friends should be aware that life still goes on, and that they were still all right.  

A few more words shared later, they were all flushed with pink and swaying a little in their seats. Instead of the silence that they arrived with, it was replaced with laughter that came out of shallow jokes and old memories of embarrassment. Even for being just colleagues, they all consensually crossed the professional border of what they should know about their partners into a space where they could freely be the Fashion Police of Santa Radio.  

“Remmmember during the first days of the program,” Minzy slurred, pointing a lazy finger in his direction. “When you were so full of yourself?” 

Woohyun laughed hysterically then, throwing his head back and earning them one more outburst away from being kicked out by the staff in the room. Jesus, it wasn’t even that funny. 

Minzy snorted, and only then had he realized that he might’ve said his thoughts out loud. “Yeah right, ‘twas not funny! That’s only because you were the one doing it rather than witnessing it.” 

Kyunghoon just rolled his eyes. “Well, in all honestly, I was the best at writing –“ 

His hyung pfft-ed out loud, which just lowered Kyunghoon’s respect for the man even more. “Sure, baby,” he said mockingly. “Say that to my face again when we have a whole Kim Jonghyun working with us in this day and age.” 

He put his hand above his heart, feeling actual pain and wounded pride in his chest. Sure, he had to admit that the guy was just a born genius when it came to writing, but how dare they downplay his work when they wrote about different experiences. Yeah, their programs were both affiliated with the night, but that didn’t mean that they were on the same level to objectively have a comparison. And no, Kyunghoon was not bitter. He was just logical (even if he was making half-baked points while tipsy). 

“Though I find many things wrong with that statement, I’m not bothering to argue tonight,” And besides, Kyunghoon couldn’t hear himself that well anymore. Who knows that he might butcher his own argument on his tongue when it would have been perfectly crafted in his head. Also Woohyun was not one of those people Kyunghoon would argue with to impress. Hyung was too low-tier for that.  

Minzy wrinkled her nose at him, drawing close. “I bet you’re just afraid of losing,” she said. 

“As if,”  

But honestly, looking back (for the enth time since Junyoung’s departure), he was a massive dick. He wasn’t the Kyunghoon he was today seven years ago. That Kyunghoon had a jurassic ego that would give Seo Janghoon a run for his money. That Kyunghoon didn’t give a shit about what others thought about his script, and even cared less to edit it (but hey, his typos were limited to none).  

During his first program which was called “Somewhere in the Blue Sea”, he first worked as the assistant script-writer, learning things from Ji Euntak as he went along, developing his prowess in the radio field. Well, during that time, he wasn’t an asshole yet since he was just coming from extreme poverty and being a straight up rookie. He learned a lot from him, and eventually after a year and a half of being under his sunbae’s wing, he left to be the main writer in another, new program. 

This time, after working with the studio-wide proclaimed Goddess of Radio, he had enough ego to think that he didn’t need his teammates at all when developing the script and just putting out whatever work he had. In all fairness, their program did well (miraculously) despite the utter lack of communication between Kyunghoon and his producer then (whose name was forgotten on this night). It worked as well as it could until that producer was frankly, very tired of Kyunghoon lack of empathy towards the whole team and was scrapped from the production half a year later. Too bad that the program only lasted for the same amount of time after his departure, which Kyunghoon absolutely was not hoping for.  

After that program, no one was really looking forward to recruit him for a program, having already built himself a reputation (from his own blood, sweat, and tears of a bad bitch). Halfway into the previous program he was working on, is co-workers were unknowingly sending him death glares, and/or looks of disdain and disgust behind his back. Kyunghoon honestly couldn’t have cared less since it wasn’t technically affecting him in any way (and they couldn’t talk to him as long as he had the 15%+ rating badge on his chest). It was only after the disaster of a kick out when he was a little bit unnerved by the coldness and ostracization that was happening. At least he had Yejoon and Woohyun with him, but even they were kind of put off by Kyunghoon’s actions to be completely okay with him.  

They’d seen this happen before, Kyunghoon realized, and even then Kyunghoon had also brushed off those signs of pompous shittyness.  

It went on like that for about three months then, with him idly working for different programs as their script editor, or even writer in some situation when he was commissioned to do so by some other lazy ass scriptwriters. After all And then, the holy grail of his career was sent to him on a platter. 

Originally, their program wasn’t named as such, and was in no way near to the concept that they had today. They were the usual talk shows set up in the afternoon that invited multiple guests each session to raise their ratings, rather than the one-man talk shows that he had grown used to over the three years that he had been working in there. Hell, the program then (named “Hug the Radio”) didn’t have Woohyun-hyung as its producer but some other person that Kyunghoon hated enough to forget. He also pitied the younger Byun Baekhyun who was dragged into this mess, but hey, at least it didn’t flop as bad as to damage his career forever. 

This time, it was the mediocre producer that became the cause for the program’s rebranding due to low ratings and b-class guests (who Kyunghoon never really blamed, but he had to state facts). Their producer treated Minzy and Kyunghoon like minions really, and never really cared for their contribution as he would usually make material by himself (as if he was a trained scriptwriter or music major). He was the reason that the two of them in the first place, so maybe his massive dickheaded personality didn’t bear any good fruit.  

After two months under his ass, their studio met with the team separately, and that ended up with the producer and DJ switch (as to not further ruin the young boy’s prospect of success). There, Woohyun-hyung came in and saved the shit show from possible cancellation and into a better program. Due to his (long gone) respect for the man, Kyunghoon listened minimally to his input, but was still immovable when it came to any kind of criticism that came with his work. 

Junyoung had changed that, and Kyunghoon felt tears burn at the back of his eyeballs. Well, shit. But in all honestly, he had been through a lot with the two people in front of him, and he couldn’t wish for better friends in the world. 

Hands snapped in front of his eyes, breaking him out of his memories. “Yah, Kyunghoon-ah, did you sleep?” 

“Fuck off, I don’t even know,” he replied to his hyung, waving a hand to his face. He blinked the possible onslaught of tears away from his eyes. As if he was going to be a hypocrite when it mattered to the mood. “And here I was, thinking about complimenting you.” 

“Aww,” both he and Minzy cooed. Disgusting. 

 Woohyun-hyung then leaned back in his seat, massaging his forehead. “Guys,” he called. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.” 

Minzy then laughed, throwing  piece of chicken and hitting the man squarely in the head. “No shit, PD-nim,” 

Being the hungry son of a bitch he was, his hyung still picked the fallen piece of chicken up from his lap and ate it. He even offered the other half to Kyunghoon, which he slapped out of his hand. Even though he was a little woozy, he didn’t lose his selective morals of cleanliness and hygiene.  

He looked at his phone, which told him that it was already an hour after midnight. It was honestly getting late, but what Kyunghoon really wanted was to not pay the bill, so leaving early was extremely tempting right now. Kyunghoon was a weak man when it came to resistance, so he stood up and packed his things. 

“Are you leaving already, Kyunghoon?” Minzy asked him, lips turned down slightly in a frown. If he was a weaker man, he would’ve said he was just going to the bathroom and bail on his own plans.  

But he wasn’t. “Yeah,” he said truthfully. “I think my parents are worried about me already.” 

Woohyun didn’t even give a shit about him leaving, still touching his forehead like the drama queen he was. He merely just waved a hand in his direction. “At least I don’t have to carry your ass back home,” hyung said, not even opening his eyes. “But are you sure you can go back home safely?” 

He shrugged and hummed in response, which seemed to suffice for the both of them. Even Minzy was just busy stuffing her face with chicken. If only he could get both fast metabolism and an expensive gym membership. But in all truthfulness, he liked how the both of them weren’t that overbearing when it came to his well-being, especially since it was because they trusted himself enough to take care of himself.  

“Well then, I’m going,” he said in a sing-song manner. He waved lazily at them, smiling at their dazed appearances. “Drink responsibly!” 

He was still smiling as he wound his way towards the door. Damn, was the room getting smaller, or were the people getting bigger, or was his depth-perception just failing him? He would never know.  

He set one of his hands on the handle of the glass door, fumbling through his pocket for the money to the train home. There were three stops between here and his home, that gave him a reasonable price for the transportation from his office to home. It was another one of his reasons for trying out the position, actually.  

He hated how the more recent fashion items had the audacity to make small and shallow as shit front pockets, but – 

O omph.  

Well, they weren’t as audacious as the blind asshole who was blocking his way.  

His head was currently buried in the chest of either a flat-chested woman, or a man who was either dumb or impatient enough not to wait for Kyunghoon to make it out of the door before entering. Feeling both the alcohol and blood flowing through his veins, he let his pettiness win out of his pacifism and wanted to fight the shithead.  

He put his head up to look the brick wall in the face. “Well shit, man. I don’t know if you’refucking rushing or rude or – “ 

Apparently, he was Kim Heechul. Or at least a look-a-like, as far as he could tell with his blurry vision. Surprisingly, he was all of the above and not looking in the slightest mad, but on the contrary, just taken aback. Self-control was a good look on him. 

“Uhm…good evening, Min Kyunghoon-sshi,” 

Kyunghoon didn’t have the time for this as he felt the bile rising in his throat. 

He pushed past the bastard and ran. 

# 

Kyunghoon may or may have not been fuming when he dragged Minzy by the arm, out of the room. He couldn’t stand the big smile plastered on Woohyun hyung and the DJ to-be’s face at the moment.  

Minzy was sputtering something about their progressas she trailed on behind, but frankly, Kyunghoon was a little too deaf at the moment to process it, much less give a shit. The fact that the man was getting along with them a little too well with the team two days before they would even work together was unnerving. Hell, it had taken three weeks for him to warm up to Minzy despite her very amiable personality and warm smile. 

Once they had rounded the corner in a relatively idle corridor, Kyunghoon let go of her elbow and sneered. “Why does it feel like all of you have been friends for three years and I’m the newcomer who’s been left out of the ordeal?” 

The woman softened at the question, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know we’re not replacing you, right?” she asked kindly. “Hell, it’s been a day since we’ve gotten to know each other, Kyunghoon–“ 

Gotten to know each other?  

Kyunghoon let his eyes grow big and his jaw slacken. Minzy just furrowed her brows in response. “Yeah, we’ve been talking since last night,” she responded to his wordless question. Minzy was great like that. “After you left, we invited him to the table. After all, you said something about ‘acceptance’ or some shit, am I wrong?”  

He just shook his head in response, still taken aback. The actual snake had the audacity to make his way to his friends’ table and butter them up. He could imagine him now, giving his fake smile and his fake laughs and initiating half-hearted conversation while both Woohyun-hyung and Minzy were whole-heartedly buying into his act. He was doing the same on the table just a few minuted before he dragged Minzy off and he wanted to regurgitate everything he ate the moment prior. Fuck him.  

Aside from that, it was like Kyunghoon was watching his friends completely forget about Junyoung. It was as if they were content enough already with his replacement to accept him into the family right on the first day. Was he the only one who remembered that? Was one night of drinking with that stranger enough to do that? 

“Still I don’t think one or two hours of good conversation can bring you all to be as friendly as that,” he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. It didn’t sit right with him – the feeling that they were letting go too fast.  

She shrugged in response, letting her hand slide down his arm. “What can I say,” she said. “He’s a funny conversationalist, and we’re not all as closed off as you are, Kyunghoon.” 

He closed his jaw, giving her a glare. Well, she had a point. It took Kyunghoon longer to get accustomed to new people, professional relationships or not. Even longer if Kyunghoon willingly did not want the person in question to get close in the first place. When Woohyun & Co. had first met Kyunghoon, it had taken him a month and a half to break his first barriers with them, even when they were already closer than brothers. Kyunghoon was just precautious like that.  

“Fine, I’ll give you that,” he said half-heartedly. “But the three of you are getting on too well, it’s really suspi–“ 

“Kyunghoon, sweetie,” she said, patting the side of his face. He just pouted even more. “The four of us are actually going to be working together for as long as the studio would hope for. I think that a smooth beginning to a partnership would cause anyone harm, and as far as I know, it’s just talk and cooperation without him bribing us to do it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

He knew she was right, but Kyunghoon was someone petty who couldn’t get over his own emotional baggage for time immemorial. He opened his mouth to say something in return. 

Minzy put her finger on his lips, shaking her head softly. “And we haven’t forgotten nor replaced Junyoung, if that’s what you were going to say,” she said, effectively shutting him up. “We just want this new era of the program to flow smoothly, and if we keep forcing the pretense that he’s not accepted in the program yet…well it won’t be worth the waste.” 

Kyunghoon just sighed in response, all the fight leaving his veins once confronted with Minzy’s truth. Still, they didn’t know the man like Kyunghoon had gotten to know him (his hyungs’ words be damned), and Kyunghoon ultimately still wasn’t ready to ry and accept someone new in his work life. He could leave the congeniality and cooperation to the two of them. He could be open in another point in time.  

“You won’t talk to him yet, won’t you?” Minzy asked, a knowing look in her eyes. 

He just shook his head.  

She sighed, grabbing his elbow tight. “Let’s just go back so that we can get some professional progress going on in that room,”  

He followed her back to the room, where his very own traitor and the man of interest were still conversing about music, apparently.  

“Where were we?” Minzy asked brightly, patting (or shoving) Kyunghoon down to his seat next to Woohyun-hyung.  

Woohyun flashed a bright smile towards the both of them, caught mid-laugh. “Ah, we were just talking about how pedophilic YG’s ass really was,” he chuckled. “It’s nice to know that the people within the industry see the same.” 

“I’ve seen all there was to see,” the man agreed, a warm look in his eyes. It was almost genuine happiness, but Kyunghoon knew that maybe two weeks in the game, that look wouldn’t be seen again.  

Kyunghoon cleared his throat, ignoring the fact they’ve filled him in regarding their non-work related shit. “Well, have you briefed him regarding our routines and the like?” he asked, voice steady and looking only at Woohyun hyung.  

His hyung just waved a hand in response. “Yes, Minzy did that a while ago,” he said. “Weren’t you in the room then?” 

Kyunghoon didn’t blush, but his gaze did flicker a bit. “I think I went to the bathroom,” Or he was too angry to hear anything with the sight of the three of them making some inside jokes here and there, no big thing. Woohyun just gave him a knowing look in response, gaze flickering between himself and Minzy.  

“Well, what’s going to be our two topics for this week?” Minzy then probed, saving them from an awkward silence.  

“Actually,” the man then started, raising up a sheepish hand. “I have some suggestions, if that’d be alright. I know I’m just new here so it’s fine if you’d rather not.” 

He said it in a straight voice with his eyes showing naked confidence. Junyoung had started out sheepish when he was given the role, and didn’t involve himself as deeply as he later would until two months after his appointment. Well, this was an adjustment Kyunghoon hadn’t been ready to make. He was meeting the gaze of each member before he settled on Woohyun, waiting for his say. 

Relaxing his posture, Woohyun shrugged and gestured for him to start.  

Their DJ to-be gave a pleasant smile, and cleared his throat. Kyunghoon fought the urge to roll his eyes since it was as if he expected this to happen. He let him present his case.  

“Well, it might be a good decision if we were to provide an approach to connect with the audience that was brighter than what you usually present,” he proposed, eyes attentive to each of their non-verbal reactions. “You usually present their hardships descriptively, and that becomes the focus of the show before you propose the happiness that comes after each. I’d rather focus on the brighter part, if that’s okay. 

“You’ve presented the topics of grief, loneliness, heartbreak, and the like during the whole month,” he continued. “Though you were able to connect with the listeners through the common pain shared, it might be a good move to try and connect with them through the common pleasures and happiness of life…if you think it’s not a problem.”  

The man paused in his proposal, looking carefully at all their faces. Kyunghoon didn’t hold his gaze, and let it observe the reactions of his own teammates. Minzy was wearing a small smirk on her face, interest dancing in her eyes. When he looked to his right, Woohyun was looking straight at the other man, calculating.  

Honestly, the change that the guy proposed was sensible and would freshen up the program after almost eight straight shows (and possibly even more than that) of having the same aura. Frankly, though their listening rates were going on stably, if things were to freshen up a bit, it might garner a new, younger audience, since positivity usually resonates within them. It wasn’t a bad idea, and Kyunghoon could work with a change of scenario.  

When he heard his hyung hum, the corners of his lips quirking up, he knew that he thought the same. Who knew that the snake could actually have bravery that came with sense? Well, the guy worked in variety, so maybe he didn’t take all the credit for it.  

After seeing the approval that came with them (or something more akin to the lack of refusal from Kyunghoon), the man continued on with his proposal, suggesting that it would also fit better with the man’s image and voice that had a higher register compared to Junyoung. Once again, sadly, he wasn’t wrong.  

In the process of the meeting and discussion of all aspects, Kyunghoon was to write his two scripts revolving around the good side of change, and acceptance. They were both connected to each other, and it would also send out a message to the listeners (depending on what Kyunghoon would write). He was already typing his rough outline as they were speaking about the mood of the playlist and what they were to do for the interaction portion of the show. The idol was silently listening in as well, giving feedback and already being on the same wavelength as the team. 

In between the brainstorming that he was doing, he stole looks at the newest addition to their team.  

Kyunghoon could see the loose set of his shoulders, and feel the equally relief that oozed out of the man. Even though he had the fashion sense of a white teenager stuck in the early two-thousands, he was admittedly smart and sensible in the other aspects where he was needed. He couldn’t see the twenty-something idol that he remembered there as well as before, but then again, he could just be that good at keeping up looks.  

Kyunghoon couldn’t feel that arrogance that was in some idols that he saw in the high set of their chin or the look in their eye. He couldn’t hear the projected superiority that was in their tones when speaking to anyone who wasn’t in their world. He could see the apathy in the man’s eyes, since he didn’t give Woohyun-hyung or Minzy any dead looks. He couldn’t see the man that he knew, but he was sure that he had to be in there somewhere, buried under the laugh that sounded like crackling wood.  

He looked at Kyunghoon then, and he made no other movement. He could see curiosity in his eyes, and he could feel it coming at him in waves. That was the emotion that he predominantly felt, and Kyunghoon wanted to break out in a smirk. He didn’t. 

He kept the eye contact, searching for any signs of recognition, anger, or remorse even. He didn’t find any. Fear was also beginning to crawl up Kyunghoon’s arms, so he broke the eye contact.  

Kyunghoon was a stranger to him, was another mystery to be cracked. He hadn’t spared one word addressed to the man, while he in turn asked more than a handful (to which Minzy usually answered for him). To the idol, business almost always formally came with a shallow layer of personal knowledge at the instant, but Kyunghoon was only going to give him business for the time being.  

Shallow scars were still scars. Abrasions still bled and hurt when you get them, even though they almost never leave marks. Kyunghoon was used to the pain, and learned to live with it. He brandished those scars and never kept them hidden. He didn’t cover them up, and never bothered to forget. He wrote about them, and shared them to the world. 

Those who hurt never remember. They are always the untouched and unbothered. The victorious who win without a graze or a drop of sweat. He would never remember, and Kyunghoon hated every fiber in the other because of that.  

Kyunghoon couldn’t forget, no matter how much he tried to heal himself. His own body wouldn’t let him. 

He sucked in a hard breath, and felt his fingers stiffen to the slightest degree. 

He was going to be strong now, and he already was stronger than he had been. He wouldn’t let that man across him lay a finger on him. He couldn’t let him take any part of him anymore. He wasn’t the same as he was before, and he wasn’t going to get hurt anymore. 

Kyunghoon would let him be there, fine. Kyunghoon was going to let him do his work, and he was going to do his best to cooperate. The fight was not in him, no matter how much the hate clouded his vision and made it go red. He was better than that.  

Change was good and natural, and acceptance was key. Let the newness make you feel different, and let things go, he lied as he typed the exact words on the screen in front of him. 

October 2003  

The sad thing about being Kyunghoon was that he could feel all the emotions to the fullest. If he was happy, he would be the fucking laugh of the whole room, filling it in the warmth of the color yellow. When he was sad, he could feel the depth of the cold blue that was set heavy in his veins. If he was angry, his face would (sadly) literally burn red, and that usually caused the end of multiple friendships and months on end of detentions.  

At the moment, he was sitting with his back against the bathroom wall, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his thighs. He wanted to scratch at his thighs, or make the earth swallow him up at the moment. He didn’t want to go out of the cubicle. He didn’t want to place his hands on the mic. He couldn’t do it, in all honesty.  

A soft knock came at the other side of the door.  

“Kyunghoon-ah,” Seonghee hyung said, and Kyunghoon latched on to the softness of his voice and let it wrap around him warmly.  

“Just a minute, hyung,” he responded, inwardly cringing at how frail he sounded. His voice echoed how much he was cracking at the moment, and whoop-de-woo, wasn’t it just great. He let out a small breath, drawing his legs closer, fingers clutching tighter at his thighs. 

He felt a soft vibration from the door, which was probably his hyung resting his head against it. “Do you want me to stay there beside you, Kyunghoonie?” he asked.  

He let out a shaky laugh, but it came out more of a cough. It scratched at his throat, and his chest seemed to constrict more. “I would if I could,” leaving the but I can`t move unsaid.  

A hand settled on the small of his back, and it was drawing small circles on the soft fabric that clothed him. He wasn’t prepared for the fashion choices that were going to be made, and the sweat only made the cloth disgustingly latch itself onto him. He focused instead on his hyung’s touch, on it’s warmth and the reassurance that it communicated to him. He reached out for his hyung’s steadiness, and it came to him and filled his lungs.  

“You’re going to be alright, Kyunghoon-ah,” 

He took a deep breath at the words, just like they practiced. He repeated them in his head like a mantra.  

He saw the emptiness of the room, and the darkness staring back at him with a cruel smile on its face.  

“You’re going to do amazing, Kyunghoonie,” 

He felt the shame coloring his face, and the breaking of his heart at the sight. 

“Everything will be fine, Kyunghoonie,” 

He felt his voice giving out on him, and breaking the high note that was supposed to have been whole.  

“Everything is okay, Min Kyunghoon,” 

He saw his hyungs smiling at him as he looked back from where he stood. He heard the cheering of the crowd as they ended their song. He felt the vibrations that came of the speakers, and felt the familiar pattern of beats from the song they’ve practiced too many times. 

He felt his hyung’s hand on him, telling him that everything’s alright. 

Kyunghoon let out a breath, blinking away the sweat and tears that had begun to cascade down his pale face, ruining the make-up his noona put on. 

“You’re okay, Kyunghoonie,” 

He let out a breath. He was okay. 

# 

The sound of the crowd’s applause took his demons away, and he looked around at their faces. 

He was alright. It was all right. It was the beginning.