shamelesssunshine

[shamelesssunshine]

Lucky Star

Chapter 3

At the end of the week, Kihyun was called again to the HR office to discuss his first week. Hoseok listened attentively as Kihyun shared his thoughts on the job—the chaos, the challenges, the occasional small victories. When Kihyun finished, Hoseok surprised him by praising his ability to adapt to the hectic pace and offering a probationary contract for three months. Kihyun stared at the document in his hands, a mix of relief and apprehension swirling in his chest. Three months. I can survive three months, right?

Just as Hoseok began explaining the details of the contract, the office door swung open without warning. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode in, his presence immediately commanding the room. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and a mischievous grin softened his sharp features. He didn’t bother knocking.

“I’ve told you so many times to knock,” Hoseok said, his voice tinged with a hint of tiredness.

“I’ll do so when you give me a billionaire bonus,” the man replied, his tone playful but confident. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Kihyun. “Now, let’s talk about the new recruit.”

Hoseok sighed, gesturing toward Kihyun. “Great, he’s here. Kihyun, this cavern man, is Hyunwoo, the receptionist manager. Your direct boss.”

Kihyun’s eyes widened as he looked from Hoseok to Hyunwoo, the unsigned contract still clutched in his hand. This is my boss? He quickly stood up, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten, and introduced himself with as much politeness as he could muster. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Yoo Kihyun.”

“Don’t get up. It’s fine,” Hyunwoo said, waving a hand dismissively. He stepped further into the room, his gaze lingering on Kihyun for a moment too long as if sizing him up. “Glad to know you and welcome aboard...?” He trailed off, glancing at Hoseok as if unsure whether Kihyun was being hired or fired.

“For three months, at least,” Hoseok assured him.

“Right, congrats,” Hyunwoo said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t particularly invested. He turned back to Hoseok, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. “Anyways, you’re excused. See you on Monday.” He took Kihyun’s seat and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. “We need to talk about the Japanese party coming next month. The client’s being a nightmare, and I need your help to smooth things over.”

Kihyun stood there, frozen in place. He hadn’t signed the contract yet, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to leave or stay. The awkwardness of the situation made his cheeks burn, but he didn’t want to interrupt. Is this really how things work here? He felt a pang of frustration mixed with a growing sense of intimidation. Hyunwoo’s casual disregard for his presence was jarring, and the way he’d taken over the conversation so effortlessly left Kihyun feeling small and insignificant.

Hoseok cleared his throat loudly, a clear signal for Hyunwoo to refocus. “You can sign the contract in the staff lobby, Kihyun,” he said, his tone apologetic but firm. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Once it’s signed, I’ll give you your weekly pay, and you can go home.”

Kihyun nodded, clutching the contract tightly as he left the office. The staff lobby was quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound. He signed the document with a shaky hand, his mind racing. Three months. Just three months. But the encounter with Hyunwoo left a bitter taste in his mouth. Is this what I have to look forward to? A boss who doesn’t even care if I’m in the room?

When he returned to Hoseok’s office to collect his paycheck, Hyunwoo was still there, deep in conversation. “The client’s demanding a full traditional tea ceremony,” Hyunwoo was saying, his tone exasperated. “Do they even realize how much work that is? We’re a hotel, not a cultural center.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Hoseok replied, his voice calm but firm. “But right now, I need to handle this.” He gestured toward Kihyun, who was standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Hyunwoo glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Right, right. The newbie.” He stood up, brushing past Kihyun without a second glance. “Enjoy your weekend and get here on time on Monday or that little contract won’t save you.”

Kihyun clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The dismissive tone, the lack of respect—it was all too much. But he bit his tongue, forcing a polite smile as Hoseok handed him his paycheck. “I will,” he said, his voice tight.

As he left the office, the weight of the day settled heavily on his shoulders. This job was getting worse day by day. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being disrespected, of being treated as an afterthought. And yet, there was something about Hyunwoo’s confidence, his effortless authority, that left Kihyun feeling intimidated. How am I supposed to work for someone like that?

Kihyun and Minhyuk stood in the cereal aisle of the supermarket, the fluorescent lights above casting a dull glow over the rows of colorful boxes. The cart between them was already half-full—a mix of essentials like rice, eggs, and a few fresh vegetables they’d splurged on. It wasn’t much, but for the first time in months, they weren’t just scraping by. They were actually planning meals, thinking beyond instant noodles and canned soup. It felt like a small victory, one they hadn’t dared to celebrate in a long time.

Minhyuk held up two boxes of cereal, one plain and affordable, the other brightly colored and sugary. “Which one says ‘we’re finally living’ more?” he asked, a playful grin on his face.

Kihyun raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it seriously. “The colorful one says ‘we’re living,’ but the plain one says ‘we’re responsible adults.’”

Minhyuk groaned, shaking the colorful box. “Responsibility is overrated. Let’s live a little.”

Kihyun laughed, shaking his head, but before he could respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his smile fading when he saw Hoseok’s name on the screen. It was Friday, well outside of work hours, and Kihyun felt a flicker of irritation. Couldn’t he catch a break? Still, he answered, his voice cautious. “Yes?”

“Kihyun?” Hoseok’s voice was calm with a hidden hint of excitement, and Kihyun immediately felt on edge.

“Yes,” Kihyun replied, his tone as flat as possible.

“Hey! I’m calling to tell you something I forgot due to your boss’s visit back in my office,” Hoseok said, his tone light and casual. It was clear he was friends with Hyunwoo, and that familiarity made Kihyun uneasy. 

As Hoseok continued speaking, Kihyun’s eyes widened. He stopped hearing the words, his grip tightening on the phone. Minhyuk noticed immediately, his playful demeanor shifting to concern. He set the cereal box down and stepped closer, his voice low. “All good?”

Kihyun didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his hand closing around Minhyuk’s wrist, and guided the colorful cereal box into the cart. “Yes, of course! Do you need him to go in person?” Kihyun said into the phone, his voice steady, but his eyes locked on Minhyuk’s.

Minhyuk’s heart raced. He wondered if they should start putting things back if this unexpected call was about to destroy their fragile sense of stability. But Kihyun’s grip on his wrist was firm, almost as if searching for an ankle.

“Yes, we’ll be waiting!” the call ended abruptly. Kihyun lowered the phone, his expression unreadable. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence heavy with unspoken questions.

Minhyuk was the first to break it. “Is everything alright?” he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Kihyun opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, a slow, bright smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He still held Minhyuk’s wrist, his thumb brushing lightly against the skin there as if to ground them both.

Before Minhyuk could press further, his phone rang, the sound startling them both. He glanced at the screen—an unknown number—and hesitated. Kihyun nodded encouragingly, his smile never wavering.

Minhyuk answered slowly, with his free hand, “Hello?”

“Yes, is this Lee Minhyuk?” The voice on the other end was oddly familiar.

“Uh, yes,” Minhyuk replied, his confusion evident.

“This is Hoseok from the Gran Shooting Star. I’m sorry for not choosing you earlier, and I assume Kihyun already told you—or maybe not. I may not have given him the chance.” Hoseok chuckled, and Minhyuk’s eyes widened. He looked at Kihyun, who was still smiling as if he already knew what was coming.

“I’m calling because I wanted to recommend you for a job offer at my friend’s library. After looking at your resume, I think you’d be a great fit. Are you okay with me sharing your information with him?”

Minhyuk’s breath caught in his throat. “OMG!” he screamed, pulling his hand free from Kihyun’s grip to cover his mouth. “Yes! Sorry, yes, that’s fine!” His voice was shaky, barely contained excitement bubbling over.

Kihyun was grinning now, his hand covering his mouth as if to stifle his laughter. He looked like he might burst from happiness.

“Wonderful! Then he’ll be contacting you in the next few days. Have a good weekend,” Hoseok said before the call ended.

For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other in stunned silence. Then, as if a dam had broken, they both erupted into laughter and screams, hugging each other tightly in the middle of the aisle. Minhyuk’s arms wrapped around Kihyun’s shoulders, and Kihyun’s hands gripped the back of Minhyuk’s jacket, their joy spilling over.

An elderly woman passing by gave them a disapproving look, her cart rattling as she maneuvered around them. Kihyun pulled back slightly, still laughing, and offered a quick apology. “Sorry, ma’am!”

But they couldn’t stop smiling, their faces flushed with excitement, “Did that just happen?” Minhyuksaid with a trembling voice.

“It did,” Kihyun replied, his voice soft but steady. “We’re finally catching a break.” Minhyuk’s eyes filled with tears. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Kihyun nodded, his own eyes damp. “Yeah. We are.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the weight of the past few months lifting from their shoulders. For the first time in what felt like forever, they could breathe. The future, once so uncertain, now seemed full of possibilities.

As they finally pulled apart, Minhyuk grabbed the colorful cereal box from the cart and held it up triumphantly. “This calls for a celebration.”

Kihyun laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Absolutely. Let’s live a little.”

[shamelesssunshine]

A walk of one's own

Chapter 2

The early morning air was crisp and biting, carrying the faint scent of dew and freshly cut grass as Kihyun trudged up the winding path from the bus stop. The Grand Shooting Star loomed ahead, perched atop a private hill like a castle overlooking its kingdom. The walk was longer than he’d expected, and his breath came out in small puffs of vapor, mingling with the chilly air. His tired legs protested with every step, and his mind was still foggy with sleep, the kind of grogginess that made even the simplest thoughts feel like wading through molasses.

As he approached the security checkpoint, a guard in a neatly pressed uniform stepped out of the booth, his face friendly but professional. “Morning,” the guard said, his voice cheerful in a way that felt almost offensive at this hour. “You’re here early. First day?”

Kihyun blinked, his brain struggling to process the question. “Uh... no,” he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. “Second day.”

The guard nodded, launching into some kind of small talk about the weather or the hotel or maybe the bus schedule—Kihyun wasn’t sure. His mind was too busy replaying the alarm clock’s shrill beep from what felt like seconds ago. He managed a few noncommittal “uhum”s and “yeah”s, hoping it was enough to satisfy the guard. It must have been because the man eventually stepped aside, waving him through with a smile.

Kihyun shuffled past the checkpoint, barely registering the exchange. His thoughts were already racing ahead to the day ahead—or rather, dreading it. Why did Hoseok want me here so early? What if I messed up yesterday more than I thought? What if— His train of thought was interrupted by a yawn so wide it made his jaw ache. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness, and trudged on toward the hotel’s staff entrance.

Kihyun quickly slapped his cheeks a few times, the sharp sting doing little to shake the heavy fog of sleep from his mind. Wake up, wake up, wake up, he chanted internally, though his body seemed determined to remain in a state of half-consciousness. He made his way to Hoseok’s office, the hallway eerily quiet at this hour, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of his shoes against the polished floor. When he reached the office, he found the door firmly shut and the lights off, the room dark and lifeless behind the frosted glass.

With a sigh, he turned and shuffled over to the small staff lobby nearby, a cramped space with a few chairs, a wilting potted plant, and a coffee table littered with outdated magazines. He sank into one of the chairs, the upholstery stiff and unyielding, and pulled out his phone. The screen glared brightly in the dim light, the time mocking him: 6:33 a.m. He groaned inwardly. Why did I agree to this again?

As the minutes ticked by, his anxiety grew, each second stretching into an eternity. He checked his phone obsessively as if the act of looking at it might somehow make time move faster. By 7:00 a.m., he’d counted exactly 27 minutes of waiting—27 minutes of his life he’d never get back. Desperate for some kind of distraction, he typed out a text to Minhyuk: “Hoseok’s late. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour. Send help.” He hit send, then immediately laughed at himself. There wasn’t a chance in this world that Minhyuk would be awake before 7 a.m. The guy treated mornings like they were a personal affront to his existence.

Just as he was about to type another message—something along the lines of “I’m starting to think this job is a prank”—he heard the sharp click of dress shoes against the floor. He looked up to see Hoseok striding down the hallway, his suit impeccably pressed but his hair slightly disheveled, as if he’d rushed to get there. Hoseok stopped short when he saw Kihyun, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Kihyun?” he said, his tone equal parts surprised and puzzled. “What are you doing here? In the HR area, no less?”

Kihyun blinked, his stomach sinking. You’ve got to be kidding me. “You... asked me to come in early,” he said slowly, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

Hoseok’s expression shifted, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. “Ah, right! Yes, of course.” He waved a hand dismissively as if the entire thing were a minor inconvenience. “Let me just... get settled.”

Kihyun forced a smile, though internally, he was screaming. Forty minutes. I’ve been waiting for forty minutes, and he doesn’t even remember why I’m here.

After Hoseok disappeared into his office, Kihyun lingered awkwardly in the hallway, unsure whether he was supposed to wait or leave. He could hear the muffled sound of Hoseok’s voice through the door, followed by the faint beep of a phone dialing. A moment later, Hoseok’s voice rose slightly, tinged with frustration. “No answer? Huh.” There was a pause, then the sound of another call being made. “Still nothing,” Hoseok muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

The door opened again, and Hoseok stepped out, looking mildly inconvenienced but otherwise unbothered. “Well, it seems he’s not here yet,” he said, shrugging as if this were a minor hiccup rather than a complete waste of Kihyun’s time. “I called you in to introduce you to the reception manager. I thought he’d be back by now, but...” He trailed off, waving a hand vaguely. “Oh well. Go back to your area for now. I’ll call you once he’s here. Have a good shift.”

Kihyun forced a polite smile, though internally he was seething. Have a good shift? Seriously? He nodded, biting back the urge to say something he’d regret. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth, his tone so polite it almost hurt. He turned on his heel and walked away, his steps quick and deliberate, as if putting physical distance between himself and Hoseok might help him keep his composure.

As soon as he was out of earshot, he broke into a near-jog, heading straight for the staff bathroom. He pushed through the door, the cool, sterile air hitting him like a slap, and locked himself in one of the stalls. Leaning against the wall, he pulled out his phone and dialed Minhyuk’s number, his fingers trembling with a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Just as Kihyun was about to give up, a groggy voice answered. “What... what time is it?” Minhyuk mumbled, his words slurred with sleep.

“It’s 7:15,” Kihyun hissed, his voice low but intense. “And I’ve already had the most ridiculous morning of my life.”

“Yoo Kihyun if this isn’t an emergency, I’m hanging up,” Minhyuk said, his tone half-serious, half-asleep.

“It is an emergency!” Kihyun snapped, though he kept his voice down to avoid being overheard. “Hoseok made me come in early for a meeting, forgot why I was there, made me wait for almost an hour, and then told me to go back to work because the person he wanted me to meet wasn’t here yet. Can you believe that?”

There was a long pause on the other end, followed by a yawn. “So... you’re saying you got up early for nothing?”

“Yes!” Kihyun said, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. “I mean, no! I mean—ugh, Min, this job is going to kill me.”

Minhyuk chuckled, the sound warm and familiar even through the phone. “I’m glad I was not hired. It’s such a great time not to be you.”

Kihyun sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I’d- the world is testing my patience right now.”

“Yeah, remember you’re doing this for the money,” Minhyuk said, his tone teasing. “Now go do your job, and call me later when you’ve had coffee. Or, you know, when it’s a reasonable hour.”

Kihyun groaned but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. Go back to sleep, you lazy leach.”

“Love you too,” Minhyuk said, his voice already fading as he hung up.

Kihyun stared at his phone for a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped out of the stall. He splashed some cold water on his face, the shock of it helping to clear his head. Okay, he thought, squaring his shoulders. Time to start the day. Again.

Time to start the day. The sun streamed through the curtains of his tiny apartment, casting golden light on the mess of clothes, empty ramen cups, and half-finished art projects that covered every surface. He groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. Why does morning have to exist?

After a while, Minhyuk dragged himself out of bed, his limbs heavy with the weight of another aimless day. He stretched, the motion half-hearted, and took a deep breath, as if the act alone could somehow infuse him with the energy he so clearly lacked. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the chaos that surrounded him—clothes strewn across the floor, empty ramen cups piled on the desk, and half-finished art projects gathering dust in the corner. The small apartment felt even smaller under the weight of his thoughts, the mess a physical manifestation of the clutter in his mind.

The absence of Kihyun was palpable, a quiet reminder of the life they were both struggling to build. Without Kihyun’s steady presence, the apartment felt emptier, the silence louder. Minhyuk sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. What can I do today? The question loomed over him, heavy and unrelenting. He knew what he should do—send out resumes, clean the apartment, finish his art projects, maybe even work out. Anything to ease the burden on Kihyun, who was out there grinding away at a job he hated just to keep them afloat.

But the gap between what he should do and what he would do felt like a chasm too wide to cross. He knew, deep down, that he’d probably do nothing on that list. Or, if the stars aligned and he somehow mustered the willpower, he’d manage the bare minimum—maybe toss a few clothes into the hamper or scroll through job postings without actually applying. It wasn’t that he was a lazy leech, no matter how much Kihyun teased him about it. It was something deeper, something harder to name.

Minhyuk slumped onto the couch, his gaze drifting to the unfinished painting propped against the wall. It was supposed to be a gift for Kihyun, a vibrant splash of colors that captured the energy and chaos of their friendship. But every time he picked up the brush, he felt paralyzed, as if his hands no longer knew how to create. What’s the point? He thought bitterly. It’s not like anyone’s going to buy my art. It’s not like I’m good enough to make a living off it.

The thought stung, but it wasn’t new. It had been gnawing at him for months, maybe even years. He wasn’t good enough—not good enough to get a job, not good enough to finish his projects, not good enough to do his part. The weight of his inadequacy pressed down on him, suffocating and inescapable.

He reached for his phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media as if the endless stream of posts could somehow distract him from the void inside. But it only made things worse. Everyone else seemed to have it together—friends landing jobs, starting businesses, traveling the world. And then there was Minhyuk, stuck in this tiny apartment, drowning in his self-doubt.

Get it together, he told himself, though the words felt hollow. You can’t keep living like this. But the truth was, he didn’t know how to change. The thought of trying and failing again was too much to bear. So he stayed where he was, trapped in the limbo between wanting to do better and being too afraid to try.

Eventually, Minhyuk stumbled upon something mildly entertaining online—a video of a cat trying to fit into a box that was clearly too small. He chuckled under his breath, the sound hollow in the quiet apartment. For a moment, he considered calling Kihyun to share the absurdity, but then he remembered: Kihyun was at work, probably drowning in a sea of phone calls and guest complaints. No point bothering him, Minhyuk thought, though the idea of hearing Kihyun’s exasperated sigh on the other end of the line was oddly comforting.

He scrolled through his contacts, considering other friends, but each name came with a mental note: Busy with work. Busy with kids. Busy with life. Everyone seemed to have something to do, somewhere to be—everyone except him. The realization stung, but it wasn’t new. He’d been here before, trapped in this cycle of loneliness and lack of progress.

Resigned, he opened an online game, hoping the mindless distraction would help pass the time. But when he lost the round to what sounded like a twelve-year-old screaming obscenities through the headset, he slammed his laptop shut, frustration bubbling over.

Too agitated to sit still, he decided to take a shower, hoping the warm water might wash away some of the tension. But as he lathered up, he realized they were running out of shampoo. Of course, we are, he thought, staring at the nearly empty bottle. Because why wouldn’t we be? He sighed, rinsing off quickly and stepping out of the shower, the steam clinging to the tiny bathroom like a second skin.

He threw on the cleanest clothes he could find—a wrinkled t-shirt and a pair of jeans that had seen better days—and grabbed his keys. The apartment felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him with every passing second. He needed to get out, to breathe, to do something.

The neighborhood was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy rather than peaceful. Minhyuk walked aimlessly, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the cracked pavement beneath his feet. People passed by—joggers with their earbuds in, mothers pushing strollers, delivery drivers rushing to their next stop—but no one paid him any attention. And yet, their busyness felt like a silent mockery, a reminder of how stagnant his own life had become.

He found himself at a small public park, the kind with a rusty swing set and an old bench that had seen better days. He sat down, the wood creaking under his weight, and took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. But the thoughts came anyway, relentless and unyielding. How can I be of use? The question echoed in his head, louder than the distant hum of traffic.

He thought about asking for his old job back at the nearby convenience store. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was something. But then he remembered: he was a college graduate now. That was a student’s job, not something for someone with a degree. What was the point of all that studying if I’m just going to end up back where I started?

The idea of working at a call center crossed his mind, but the thought of being yelled at by strangers for hours on end made his stomach churn. I can’t do that, he thought. I just... can’t.

In the end, all he could do was sigh, the sound heavy with resignation. He stood up, brushed off his jeans, and started the walk back home. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the pavement. By the time he reached the apartment, it was less than an hour before Kihyun would return from work. Minhyuk unlocked the door, stepped into the familiar chaos, and sank onto the couch, his mind still racing. What am I even doing with my life?

“I’m back,” Kihyun announced as he pushed open the door, his voice flat and drained of its usual energy. He looked like he’d been through a war—his tie loosened, his shirt wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes that spoke of a day filled with too much stress and not enough coffee. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, the sound echoing in the small apartment.

Minhyuk looked up from the couch, where he’d been half-heartedly scrolling through his phone. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You look nice,” he said, his tone teasing but soft, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Kihyun shot him a glare, though there was no real heat behind it. “Shut up,” he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m going to sleep. Life got harsh today.” Without another word, he trudged down the hallway and disappeared into their shared room, the door closing with a quiet click.

Minhyuk stared after him, the smile fading from his face. He leaned back against the couch, his phone forgotten in his lap. “Yeah,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “It was harsh.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the words hung heavy in the air, a quiet acknowledgment of the weight they were both carrying.

He sat there for a moment, the silence of the apartment pressing in on him. The faint sound of Kihyun shuffling around in the other room—kicking off his shoes, collapsing onto the bed—reached his ears, but it did little to fill the emptiness. Minhyuk’s gaze drifted to the window, where the last rays of sunlight were fading into dusk. The day was over, but the weight of it lingered, a shadow that neither of them could seem to shake.

He thought about following Kihyun, asking how his day had been or offering some kind of comfort. But what could he say? “It’ll get better”? He wasn’t sure he believed that himself. “I’m here for you”? It felt hollow when he couldn’t even figure out how to be there for himself.

Instead, he stayed where he was, staring blankly at the wall, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts he couldn’t quite untangle. The apartment felt too quiet, too still, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something to change. But for now, all Minhyuk could do was sit there, the weight of the day settling over him like a heavy blanket.

Chapter 4

[shamelesssunshine]

Coffee Stains and Rice Nights

Chapter 1

Kihyun stood in front of the Grand Shooting Star, his reflection staring back at him from the polished glass doors. He adjusted his tie for the fifth time that morning, his fingers trembling slightly. The hotel loomed over him, its grandeur both awe-inspiring and intimidating. He took a deep breath, trying to channel the confidence he didn’t feel. *You can do this,* he told himself. *It’s just a job. How hard can it be?*

As soon as he entered, he received the soft hum of conversation and the occasional ring of the front desk phone. Kihyun approached the reception area, where Dayoung was typing furiously on her computer. She looked up and gave him a polite smile.

“Good morning, Kihyun. Welcome to your first day. Hoseok asked me to get you started, but...” She glanced at the line of guests forming at the desk and winced. “It’s a bit hectic today. You can stay here while I take care of a few things.”

Before Kihyun could respond, she was already on the phone, her voice low and urgent. A moment later, a harried-looking man in a suit appeared, his name tag reading *Hyungsoo – Assistant Manager*. He barely glanced at Kihyun before thrusting a thick binder into his hands.

“Here’s the manual. Read it. The phones are over there. Try not to mess up.” And with that, he was gone, leaving Kihyun standing awkwardly in the middle of the lobby.

Kihyun stared at the binder, its weight heavy in his hands. *This is fine,* he thought. *I can figure this out. I’m capable. I’m—*

The phone rang, cutting off his internal pep talk. He froze, staring at the blinking light on the console. *Answer it,* he told himself. *Just answer it.*

He picked up the receiver, his voice shaky. “Good morning, Grand Shooting Star. How can I assist you?”

The voice on the other end was sharp and impatient. “I’ve been on hold for ten minutes! I need to speak to the concierge about my reservation.”

Kihyun’s mind went blank. The concierge? Where was the concierge? He glanced around, but everyone was busy. “Uh, one moment, please,” he said, pressing buttons at random. The line went dead.

His stomach dropped. *Did I just hang up on a guest?*

Before he could panic, another call came in. Then another. And another. The morning passed in a blur of ringing phones, misplaced reservations, and increasingly frustrated guests.

Finally, lunchtime arrived; Kihyun went into the door with the “staff only” signal and found a whole labyrinth of halls and rooms. At the back, he could see a small microwave, a sink with soap and a sponge, as well as a few mugs drying off next to a coffe machine.

He looked around, trying to find someone to ask if he could use those, but none seemed available. Frustrated, he decided he could use the coffee machine and selected a random cup. It said, “Happy Birthday, Soojin.” “Sorry, Soojin. I’ll clean it afterward, I promised.” He sighed, warmed up his lunch packed by Minhyuk, poured his unauthorized coffee into Soojin’s mugs and sat down in an empty file room to eat.

He checked his phone and saw a text from Minhyuk: *“How’s the fancy hotel life treating you? Have you stolen any snacks yet?”*

Kihyun groaned, typing a quick reply: “Too busy trying not to get fired.”

“But have you?” Kihyun smiled a little, “I got free coffee on Soojin’s account.” nothing was going the way he wanted that day, nothing but Minhyuk. He could trust him to show him the light in tough times.

Minhyuk’s response was almost immediate: “Relax, Ki. If they fire you, we’ll just start a ramen stand. I’ll handle the cooking. You handle customer complaints. By the way, who’s Soojin?”

“Wish I knew.” Kihyun sent a picture of the mug, shoved the last bits of his lunch and went back to work. As the day progressed, he took a pen and paper from Dayoung and started to make notes about all the phone calls. Slowly, he built a little step-by-step from what he needed to do with every call. He wrote down questions that he would ask any staff that passed by; sometimes, he got answers, but most times, he got ignored. He made mistake after mistake—transferring calls to the wrong department, mixing up guest requests, and even accidentally sending a bellhop to the wrong room. By the time his shift ended, he was exhausted, his nerves frayed, and his confidence shattered.

When Kihyun finally stumbled through the door of their tiny apartment, Minhyuk was sprawled on the couch, a bag of chips in one hand and a video game controller in the other. He looked up and grinned. “Hey, Mister fancy receptionist. How was your first day?”

Kihyun groaned, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “I wanna die! Let’s go live in the woods we’ll cultivate our food and live on a cottage.”

Minhyuk raised an eyebrow. “I’m not shitting on a hole.”

“Then get a rich boyfriend and fix our situation!” Kihyun said, burying his face in his hands. “This was eight hours of pure suffering.”

Minhyuk chuckled, tossing him the bag of chips. “Sounds like you’re fitting right in. Welcome to adulthood, Ki. It’s all suffering, but at least the rice is... well, it’s rice.”

Kihyun looked up, confused. “Rice?”

Minhyuk gestured to the kitchen, where a pot of bland white rice sat on the stove. “We’re out of anything else. Again. So, it’s rice night. Bon appétit.”

Kihyun sighed, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t much, but at least dinner was done, and the house was clean… no it was not. Minhyuk just picked up the thrash, but nothing else. Still, Kihyun was so happy to be home.

They ate in silence for a while, Kihyun venting about his day between bites. Minhyuk listened, offering sarcastic but supportive comments. By the time they finished, Kihyun felt a little better, the weight of the day lifting slightly.

When Kihyun finally stumbled through the door of their tiny apartment, Minhyuk was sprawled on the couch, a bag of chips in one hand and a video game controller in the other. He looked up and grinned. “Hey, Mister Fancy Receptionist. How was your first day?”

Kihyun groaned, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “I wanna die! Let’s go live in the woods. We’ll cultivate our food and live in a cottage.”

Minhyuk raised an eyebrow. “I’m not shitting in a hole.”

“Then get a rich boyfriend and fix our situation!” Kihyun said, burying his face in his hands. “This was eight hours of pure suffering. I hung up on a guest, sent a bellhop to the wrong room, and misplaced some stupid folders. I’m sure tomorrow, Soojin will have complained about taking her mug. Whoever she is, she’s probably plotting my demise as we speak.”

Minhyuk chuckled, tossing him the bag of chips. “Sounds like you’re fitting right in. Welcome to adulthood, Ki. It’s all suffering, but at least the rice is... well, it’s rice.”

Kihyun looked up, confused. “Rice?”

Minhyuk gestured to the kitchen, where a pot of bland white rice sat on the stove. “We’re out of anything else. Again. So, it’s rice night. Bon appétit.”

Kihyun sighed, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t much, but at least dinner was done, and the house was clean… well, sort of. Minhyuk had picked up the trash, but the rest of the apartment was still a mess. Still, Kihyun was so happy to be home.

They ate in silence for a while, Kihyun venting about his day between bites. “And then,” he said, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks, “this guy starts yelling at me because his room wasn’t ready. Like, what am I supposed to do? Magically conjure a clean suite out of thin air?”

“Didn’t any rich, good-looking guest show up? You could do like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and marry rich. You’re not that ugly. I’ve got an idea! When your shift ends, go to the presidential suite and fix our lives.” Minhyuk was having so much fun with Kihyun’s situations that by the time they finished, Kihyun felt a little better, the weight of the day lifting slightly.

He leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive tomorrow.”

Minhyuk shrugged. “You will. You always do. Besides, how much worse can it get?”

As if on cue, Kihyun’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He picked it up, his stomach dropping when he saw Hoseok’s name on the screen. “Oh shit,” he muttered, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Kihyun,” Hoseok’s voice was calm but firm. “I need you to come in early tomorrow. Be here by 7 a.m. I want to see you in my office before your shift starts.”

Kihyun’s heart sank. “Uh, yes, of course. I’ll be there.”

The line went dead, and Kihyun stared at the phone, his mind racing. Is he going to fire me? Did I mess up that badly? He imagined Hoseok’s stern face, the disappointment in his eyes as he handed Kihyun his termination letter. What will Minhyuk think? What will we do if I lose this job?

Minhyuk must have seen the panic on his face because he clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, Ki. You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

Kihyun nodded, but he couldn’t shake the knot of anxiety in his chest. Tomorrow was going to be another long day.

Chapter 3

[shamelesssunshine]

The Grand Shooting

Disaster vs Rent

The morning sun filtered through the towering glass windows of the *Grand Shooting Star*, casting a golden glow over the marble floors of the lobby. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and expensive leather, a scent that seemed to whisper *luxury* with every breath. 

Kihyun adjusted the strap of his worn-out messenger bag, which used to be stained by acrylic paint and was now fairly clean, though it was clear as day how too heavy it had been used, feeling painfully out of place in his slightly wrinkled button-up and secondhand slacks. He glanced at Minhyuk, who was fidgeting with the corner of his CV, his brows furrowed in the way they always were when he was overthinking. 

“How should we go about it?” Kihyun asked, keeping his voice low as he nodded toward the busy front desk. A couple dressed in what looked like designer everything was being attended to by a receptionist with a smile so polished it could blind someone. “Just drop the CV at the counter? Or maybe hand in the whole folder?”

Minhyuk sighed, his eyes darting around the lobby. The golden statues of an angel and a knight loomed over them, their intricate details almost mocking in their extravagance. “I guess asking would be better,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Maybe they’ll just tell us to fill out a web application. You know how these places are.”

Kihyun frowned. “The ad didn’t say anything about experience being a must. We’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

Minhyuk shot him a look. “Except our dignity.” 

In all honesty, Kihyun did not wish to work at such an opulent place. He had nothing against it and all the reasons to try. However, he considered that a “real functional adult job,” and he was not sure how much of a functional person he was. He was considered organized to the point of OCD allegations back in his major, but those were all artists with free spirits, not 9-to-5 workers.

“Dignity doesn’t pay the rent,” Kihyun shot back, grinning despite the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He knew Minhyuk was right—they were fresh out of college with nothing but convenience store experience and degrees in arts. The Grand Shooting Star wasn’t exactly the kind of place that hired people like them. But the job market had been brutal, and they were running out of options. And money. 

Still, Kihyun wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He’d spent too many nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling of their tiny shared apartment, wondering where it had all gone wrong. They’d done everything they were supposed to—gone to school, gotten degrees, worked part-time jobs to make ends meet. But the promise they’d been fed as kids—that education would lead to success, that things would just fall into place—felt like a cruel joke now. 

“Come on,” Kihyun said, nudging Minhyuk with his elbow. “Let’s at least try. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Minhyuk raised an eyebrow. “They could laugh in our faces?”

“They won’t,” Kihyun said, though he wasn’t entirely sure. He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath, trying to channel some of the confidence he didn’t actually feel. “Besides, if they do, we’ll just add it to the list of humiliating things we’ve survived. Remember that time I ate with a tennis ball pen during finals week?”

Minhyuk groaned. “That’s a top life moment, and I’ll tell the story at your wedding someday.”

Kihyun grinned. “See? We’ve been through worse. Let’s do this.”

Together, they approached the front desk, their footsteps echoing faintly against the marble floor. The receptionist—a woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a name tag that read *Dayoung*—turned to them with a polite smile. 

“Good morning. How can I assist you?” she asked, her tone professional but warm.

Kihyun exchanged a glance with Minhyuk before speaking, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. “Hi, we’re here about the receptionist position. We saw the ad and wanted to drop off our CVs.”

Dayoung’s smile didn’t waver, but Kihyun could see the faint flicker of surprise in her eyes—a quick, almost imperceptible widening that betrayed her professionalism. “Ah, I see,” she said, her tone polite but measured. “Let me call my manager over.” She picked up the phone, dialed a number, and spoke in a low voice, explaining the situation to whoever was on the other end. After a moment, she set the phone down and gestured toward the plush seating area nearby. “You can sit down for the moment. I’ll call you in a while.”

Both Kihyun and Minhyuk looked at each other, confusion written all over their faces. In most places, they’d hand over their resumes, get a cursory glance, and be told to expect a call that never came. But this time, Dayoung hadn’t even touched their papers. It was... unusual. Kihyun’s mind raced as they walked over to the seating area. Was this a good sign? Or were they about to be politely escorted out?

The lobby was a symphony of quiet luxury—the soft murmur of guests, the occasional clink of glassware from the bar, and the distant hum of elevator doors opening and closing. Kihyun couldn’t help but feel out of place, his secondhand slacks and worn messenger bag starkly out of sync with the opulence around him. He glanced at Minhyuk, who was already making himself comfortable on one of the velvet chairs, his legs stretched out as if he owned the place.

“Do you think they’re actually considering us?” Kihyun whispered, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee.

Minhyuk shrugged, his usual nonchalance firmly in place. “Either that, or they’re calling security. Either way, it’s more exciting than sitting at home refreshing job boards.”

Kihyun groaned softly, but before he could respond, a figure emerged from behind the front desk. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, his tailored suit fitting him like a glove. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his sharp features were softened slightly by the hint of a smile as he exchanged a few words with Dayoung. Then, he turned toward them, his gaze locking onto theirs, and made a quick gesture with his finger, signaling for them to come closer.

Kihyun’s heart skipped a beat. This was it—their moment. He stood up, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt, and shot Minhyuk a look that said, Don’t mess this up.

Minhyuk grinned, clearly unfazed. “Let’s go, Ki. Time to charm the boss.”

All of Minhyuk’s security seemed to disappear once they stepped back up to the front desk. The man in the suit—clearly the manager—looked them over with a sharp, assessing gaze. His name tag read Lee Hoseok – Front Office Manager. He had an air of authority about him, but there was something in his expression that felt... approachable? Or maybe Kihyun was just projecting because he was desperate for this to go well.

“So,” Hoseok began, his voice smooth but firm, “Dayoung tells me you’re here about the receptionist position. You dropped off your CVs without an appointment?”

Kihyun felt his stomach drop. “Uh, yes,” he said, trying to sound confident. “We saw the ad and thought we’d come in person would speak better about the type of workers we are.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, Kihyun was sure they were about to be politely but firmly escorted out of the lobby. But then Hoseok’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Bold move. I like it.” He picked up their CVs from the counter and skimmed through them quickly. “Yoo Kihyun and Lee Minhyuk, huh? Fresh out of college, I see.”

Minhyuk nodded, his usual sarcasm momentarily replaced by nervous energy. “Yes, sir. We’re eager to learn and ready to work hard.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Sir? I’m not that much older than you. Hoseok’s fine.” He set the CVs down and leaned slightly against the counter, his posture relaxing just a bit. “Tell me, why the Grand Shooting Star? This isn’t exactly the kind of place people just walk into off the street.”

Kihyun hesitated, glancing at Minhyuk, who gave him a subtle nod of encouragement. “Honestly?” Kihyun said, deciding to go for broke. “We need the job. But it’s not just that. This place... it’s like stepping into another world. We may not have the experience, but we’re quick learners, and we’re not afraid to put in the work. We just need a chance to prove ourselves.”

Hoseok studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to Minhyuk. “And you? What’s your reason?”

Minhyuk straightened up, his usual bravado returning. “Honestly? I just really like the free snacks in the break room. Or at least, I assume there are free snacks. There are free snacks, right?”

Kihyun elbowed him sharply, but Hoseok laughed—a genuine, hearty laugh that seemed to surprise even Dayoung, who was pretending not to eavesdrop behind him. “Alright, I’ll give you points for honesty,” Hoseok said, still grinning. “Look, I’ll level with you. We’re not usually in the habit of hiring people with no experience, but... I like your attitude. And we could use some fresh energy around here.”

Kihyun’s heart leaped. “Does that mean...?”

Hoseok held up a hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not making any promises. But I’ll check your papers and see what comes out of it. We’ll call you when a decision is made. For now, you’re excused.”

As soon as he said so, Hoseok retired with the papers in one hand, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor as he disappeared through a door marked Staff Only. Kihyun stared after him, his mind racing. Did that just happen? Were they actually being considered? Or was this just another polite brush-off?

Minhyuk, ever the optimist, clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, that went better than expected. He didn’t throw our CVs in the trash, so that’s a win, right?”

Kihyun blinked, still processing. “I guess? But he didn’t exactly say we got the job, either.”

“Details,” Minhyuk said with a wave of his hand. “He didn’t say we didn’t get the job. That’s practically a yes in my book.”

Kihyun groaned, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Leave it to Minhyuk to find the silver lining in what felt like a very gray situation. “Let’s just get out of here before we overstay our welcome.”

They turned and made their way back through the lobby, the opulence of the Grand Shooting Star feeling even more surreal now that they might—just might—have a chance to work there. As they stepped out into the sunlight, Kihyun took a deep breath, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening just a bit.

“So,” Minhyuk said, slinging an arm around Kihyun’s shoulders, “what’s the plan now? Celebrate with ramen, or start practicing our ‘professional’ smiles for the interview?”

Kihyun laughed, the sound surprising even himself. “Ramen. Definitely ramen. But if we get a call, you’re buying.”

“Deal,” Minhyuk said, grinning.

The following days felt like a limbo. Kihyun oscillated between hope and despair, checking his phone obsessively for a call that never came. Minhyuk, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, filling their days with distractions— Videogame sessions, questionable cooking experiments, and endless debates about whether mint belonged to food or was it exclusive to dental products. (Kihyun insisted it did; Minhyuk vehemently disagreed.)

By the third day, Kihyun had almost convinced himself it was over. They’d taken their shot, and it hadn’t worked out. That was life, wasn’t it? But just as he was about to give up and start refreshing job boards again, his phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. The screen lit up with an unknown number.

Kihyun froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Minhyuk,” he called, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think it’s them.”

Minhyuk appeared in the doorway, a half-eaten slice of pizza in hand. “Well, answer it already! Don’t leave them hanging.”

With trembling fingers, Kihyun picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon,” came a smooth, professional voice on the other end. “Is this Yoo Kihyun?”

��Yes, speaking,” Kihyun replied, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Minhyuk could hear it from across the room.

“This is Hoseok from the Grand Shooting Star. I’m calling to inform you that we’ve reviewed your application and would like to inform you that you’ve passed the selection process. Can you start on Monday?

Kihyun was in disbelief. They didn’t even have a proper interview. “I—uh, yes, of course,” he stammered, his mind racing. “We can start on Monday. Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

Hoseok’s voice was light but sure. “Oh, there seems to be a misunderstanding. It's you, Mister Yoo, who’s hired. Other than that, I know this might feel a bit sudden, but we’re a bit... understaffed, shall we say? And in quite urgent need of someone who can handle the phones. I’ll email you the details, but be here by 8 a.m. sharp. Welcome to the team.”

Before Kihyun could respond, the line went dead. He stared at the phone, his hand trembling slightly. Did that just happen? Did they actually get the job?

Minhyuk was practically vibrating with curiosity. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging! What did he say?”

Kihyun stared at the phone, his mind reeling. Did Hoseok just say he was hired? Not both of them? Just him? His stomach churned as he replayed the conversation in his head. He hadn’t even had a chance to clarify or ask about Minhyuk. The call had ended so abruptly, leaving him with more questions than answers.

Minhyuk was practically vibrating with curiosity, his half-eaten slice of pizza forgotten. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging! What did he say?”

Kihyun looked up, his expression a mix of shock and guilt. “I... I got the job. I start on Monday.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked genuinely thrilled. “That’s amazing! I knew we’d—” He stopped mid-sentence, his grin faltering as the words sank in. “Wait. Did you get the job? What about me?”

Kihyun winced. “He didn’t mention you. I think... I think they only hired me.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation hanging heavily between them. Minhyuk blinked, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. For a split second, his face fell, the mask of confidence slipping to reveal something raw and unguarded—disappointment, maybe even a flicker of insecurity. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, his voice unnaturally light. “That’s... that’s great, Ki. Really. I mean, one of us getting the job is better than neither, right?”

Kihyun could hear the forced cheerfulness in Minhyuk’s voice, and it made his chest ache. “Minhyuk, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even get a chance to ask about you. The call ended so fast, and—”

Minhyuk waved a hand, cutting him off. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. Besides, you’re the organized one. They probably took one look at my CV and thought, ‘Nope, this guy’s a disaster.’ Can’t say I blame them.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow like he was trying too hard to convince himself as much as Kihyun.

Kihyun frowned, his guilt only deepening. “You’re not a disaster. You’re just... unconventional. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Minhyuk shrugged, but the usual spark in his eyes was dimmed. “Yeah, well, unconventional doesn’t pay the bills, does it?” He turned away, pretending to busy himself with the half-eaten slice of pizza on the counter. His voice softened, almost to a whisper. “Guess I’ll just have to keep looking.”

For a moment, Kihyun didn’t know what to say. He’d been so focused on getting the job that he hadn’t stopped to consider what it would mean if only one of them made it. Now, the reality was staring him in the face, and it felt... wrong. They were supposed to be in this together.

“Look,” Minhyuk said, forcing a brighter tone as he turned back to Kihyun, “you’re not going to turn it down, are you? Because if you do, I’ll kick your ass. This is your shot, Ki. You’ve got to take it.”

Kihyun hesitated. “But what about you? We were supposed to do this together.”

Minhyuk’s smile softened, and for a moment, he looked more like the best friend Kihyun had always relied on. “We still are. Just because I’m not working there doesn’t mean I’m not rooting for you. Besides, someone’s got to keep you from spiraling into a stress-induced coma. And let’s be real, that’s a full-time job.”

Kihyun laughed despite himself, the tension in the room easing just a bit. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, here we are,” Minhyuk said, gesturing dramatically to their tiny apartment. “About to embark on the next chapter of our lives. You, the fancy hotel receptionist. Me, the... uh, what’s the opposite of a receptionist?”

“A disaster,” Kihyun deadpanned, earning a laugh from Minhyuk.

“Exactly. A charming disaster. Now, let’s celebrate your new job with ramen. And don’t even think about paying—this one’s on me.”

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

[shamelesssunshine]

About a girl

Showki fanfic

Everything here is fiction and nothing represents the real person they're named after.

All pictures taken from random pinterest pins

Enjoy

TW. Alcohol and drugs

Ch.1. The girl

No lights, only moonlight.

Hyunwoo’s truck arrived at the same spot where the same loud, chaotic music was embracing the same careless people.

There was a mess all over the place: discarded empty plastic cups under messy bushes, snack’s empty bags that looked like they belonged to the previous century decorated every rock, big or small, and a few small, almost unnoticeable rubbers signaled someone had gotten lucky tonight… and if said luck was the good type there wouldn’t be any surprise in the following weeks.

Hyunwoo walked straight to the “big fire” as broke, drunk and stupid college students called the old trash can where the fire had been lit every Friday night to Sunday since everyone in that party could remember, it was usually fed with failed tests, old love letters and moldy leftovers, with the occasional pitch of weed to spice up the ambient.

You late. I thought you wouldn't come. - 

Hoseok, the hottest guy in the town, if you asked about the last stall in the guy’s bathroom where his name was just under Roseanne Park, nobody knew who did it, but it was a truth that couldn’t be denied. Therefore, nobody took it off either, offered Hyunwoo a cheap unopened beer and a cig.

Now my parents know I’m good at law stuff, but it’s hard to get rid of them. They expect me to be successful now. -

They both laughed; Hyunwoo’s parents owned a nice BBQ restaurant in the rich part of the town. It was nothing too glamorous, but it was still rich enough to keep him as a law major without asking him to work. That was kind of super well-off in a small town with only two supermarkets and a raggedy theatre.

Poor guy, can afford dreams, hopes and expectations. -

Hoseok was more of a regular person in the town; he was extremely handsome, but that was about it for his luck, no money, four siblings, not especially good at school and working part-time at one of the supermarkets to pay for his college. However, he’s been thinking about dropping off more than once now that his siblings are growing and showing skills at things. He may dream of being a model, but he could actually step down and provide real chances to others.

Let’s run away to Seul; you’d be a model, and I’ll be a family shame -

Both had been friends since they could remember, even though they were in pretty different life conditions. The town was small enough for people to cross their way into each other. They grew up together and went through thick and thin already; they’ve shared everything they could along the way: toys, emotions, resources and even girls.

Both were popular enough to have each their fair share of girlfriends, affairs and lovestruck, to the point of being called dangerous and unserious. Luckily, they weren’t girls, and their lives would've been way too difficult at that point.

The night grew old, and everyone got drunk, forgetting their problems. New couples were made, some broke up, and some swore eternal love. Hoseok found the love of his life, an unknown girl from a nearby town who’s probably using a fake name and won’t come back to his mind ever again.

Now Hyunwoo had too much beer, and nature was calling him, so he went to the far end of the party where there were more chances to find a couple doing funny stuff than to see your further away than your nose, found a lone three, undid his zipper and let himself go, eyes closed realizing he was dizzy. Now, his mouth had a bitter aftertaste of beer. He was annoyed and disgusted by everyone in the party, so he turned around, ready to leave, when he heard a gasping sound. It took him a few seconds to focus his eyesight, but then he saw her.

She was there: pale, thin, long black hair, looking almost like a ghost, but weirdly, the ghost looked scared. They both looked each other up and down, and she looked more scared than before. Did he forget to zip his pants? He checked he was fine.

Sorry is something-

NO! Sorry I didn’t see anything, bye, sorry -

She left so suddenly and pretty fast, too, it took him a few seconds to react and follow her, but when he did, she was already out of sight behind some tree or maybe jumped into a bush? Who could tell? Not him.

He let her go and went back to where he parked his truck. He should've followed her she could have been lost in the goods he hadn’t seen her before. Therefore she wasn't form here. 

He turned around, ready to look for her, but she was in the woods, and she wasn’t from here. She looked scared and ran off as soon as she had the chance. Was she doing something? Someone?

He returned to the path to his truck, but she was all dressed and looked pretty. Girls who do someones in the woods end up all messy and with missing clothes, maybe she was just lost

maybe she was.

maybe she wasn’t…

alone? With someone?

Was she real? He was pretty drunk. Could someone have put something on the fire? He arrived late and didn’t start it himself.

He slapped his face hard, took a moment, entered his truck, started the engine and left; he’d check if Hoseok were still alive tomorrow. He was looking at ghosts and ready to throw up. It was time to go home.