CHAPTER 1 (PT 1) - Chicken solves everything (?)

The air in the basement is thick like a wet sock, discomfort gripping every inch of my body as my limbs move on their own accord, dancing to a practiced routine. The music from the VCR is almost muffled, barely audible over my heaves. The summer heat is unbearable and all I want is for practice to be over so I could eat some shaved ice on my way back to the dorm.

Fast footsteps echo as the final bridge of the song plays and a moment later, the door to the rundown basement bursts open. Lights dangling from the ceiling flicker, as if to warn me about a cliché ominous presence from a 90s horror film, but I know who it is.

Kim Do-Hyun.

"Hyung, hyung, it's today..!" he chirps loudly, sounding like an excited fanboy.

Do-Hyun is waving his hands like a mad chick and his big eyes are sparkling brightly like they were stuck with cheap glitter. Even his puffed up cheeks are tinged red, so utterly out of context that I roll my eyes.

"You're late," I mutter without pausing, hands struggling to remain taut and in-posture like how our dance instructor drilled it into my head. It's agony. The music reaches its end and just for a second, silence fills the basement before the song starts to play all over again. Do-Hyun's eyes press, as if not screaming whatever he was planning on yapping about was physically hurting him.

I walk over to the VCR and turn it off while Do-Hyun fidgets behind me. I look at him through the mirrors of the dance floor but the foggy surface dulls the enthusiasm in Do-Hyun's rabbit eyes.

Ah, guess we need to wipe it a little harder tomorrow.

"Where are the others?" he asks meekly, all excitement on pause, faux concern colouring his black eyes. But I could see right through the brat and his insincere eyes. "They finished early," I reply as I wipe my sweat with a hand towel. "They thought you'd be with me since you were late."

Do-Hyun's bony adam's apple bobs up and he wrings his hands out of habit.

I glance at him. "So, where were you exactly?"

"Um…"

Do-Hyun runs a nervous hand through his cropped hair, bony hands sticking out awkwardly. He was the youngest among us and he looked every bit as young. Everything about him is bony, like an ivory scarecrow. Having just hit puberty, he looked as awkward as any teenage boy going through puberty would look. But as he bites on his lower lip, staring at me through the reflection, I can't help but reminisce about how tiny he had looked when we first met a year and a half ago.

Darn, I miss his dumpling cheeks. They were nicer to pinch and bully.

"How about a deal?" I offer, interrupting him and for a split second, Do-Hyun looks grateful. Not so soon, Do-Hyunnie. I chuckle and continue. "Three sets of BLC Spicy Sauce Chicken for dinner and I might pretend that you attended practice."

Do-Hyun's childish face pales as much as an old-school ghost and I swallow back a laugh. "Hyung, this is a scam!"

"Four sets."

"Hyung..!!"

"Five se—"

"Alright!" he screams, throwing his hands up in the universal peace sign. "Alright! Three sets of BLC Chicken. I hope you gain ten pounds and end up having to diet! Or better, drop dead."

I laugh and grab him in a headlock, ruffling his short, spiky hair. "Ew hyung, you stink," the brat groans as he pushes against me but soon remembers why he came to the basement even though he skipped practice. "Do you know what day today is?"

I shoot him a look but he turns a blind eye as he reveals excitedly. "It's today. Purple Skyes's comeback!"

As soon as the words leave Kim Do-Hyun's mouth, all the puny light-heartedness in my heart —that I didn't know existed— melt away, leaving me with an empty chill. My hands gripping Do-Hyun's neck grow slack and he escapes, laughing that ever contagious bratty laugh, but I can't bring myself to laugh with him.

Without noticing the change in air, Do-Hyun eagerly continues. "Ha-Joon hyung said he wanted to watch the comeback stage together with everyone live. He even invited Mr Park Tae Joo to the dorm."

"Ah," I voice, in an attempt to reply but words fail me and I end up feeling stupid as I gape at Do-Hyun's face. It takes a moment but finally my not-so-bright younger friend catches on that I wasn't exactly sharing his frenzied fanboy heart and his face slowly fades into a stagnant gaze.

"Hyung, you okay?" he asks and I shake my head. "Just tired," I reply, channeling as much normalcy as I could into my voice. Lying has always been easy anyways.

It either works or Do-Hyun is as dumb as I treat him but he seems convinced as he takes my hand into his, dragging me. "Come, come. The three sets of chicken won't fly here if you laze around. It's rush hours!"

Trying to swallow the lump in my throat, I let him drag me and we exit the oven equivalent of a basement.

On the road, Seoul's traffic bustles past us as we hurry to the bus stop. It's almost evening but the summer heat sandwiches us as we walk. The broadway ads are littered with birthday banners of celebrities born on June, all perfect teeth and hair, and I see a group of girls standing in front of a big ad taking pictures.

Do-Hyun giggles seeing the shiny ads. "This will be us in the future." His voice is clear, like he knows as a fact that the future us will get birthday ads sponsored by our nonexistent fans. Like his laugh, his voice and enthusiasm are infectious and a small smile grows on my face. But I don't reply.

I knew better than anyone to dream vain dreams. If there's been one thing that I learnt in these past two years—other than that devoted best friends could deceive— it was that even dreams ought to be realistic. Pigs wanting to fly across the sky? Forget it. Instead of dreaming about growing wings, learn how to built a plane, idiot.

We arrive at the bus stop shortly and there are smaller birthday ads. The lone face cream advertisement at the corner is hardly visible over the beautiful, flashy photos of idols, and a foggy memory of me from a few years back, laughing at this very bus stop surrounded by old birthday ads flit. A familiar dull pang grips my chest.

Thankfully this time, Do-Hyun doesn't notice and we ride the bus to the other side of Seoul after buying five sets of BLC Chicken. Three sets paid by Do-Hyun and two by me.

By the time we reach our dorm, the sun is half hidden shyly behind golden pink clouds. It is evening and shadows loom bigger than our frames, stalking each step. Do-Hyun hums an unknown song as he walks a few steps in front of me. It sounds nice.

The dorm is simply a two bedroom flat rented by Mr Park Tae Joo for the sake of us and truly, there was nothing grandeur about it. But I feel grateful. It is much better than the one I had to stay in previously.

But, are you happy here?

Ha-Joon hyung is waiting outside, perched on the steps of the five storey building which housed our dorm. Silver round rimmed glasses lie gingerly on the bridge of his nose and he looks like he's dozing off. His pale skin looks flushed in the evening breeze, long hair looking like a bird's nest. How long has he been waiting for?

Do-Hyun and I exchange a quick look and as if we were the kings of telepathy, we creep as soundlessly as we could, one to the front, other to the back. Do-Hyun's hands swiftly reach out as he pushes the hand Ha-Joon hyung was using to balance his head and I push the back of his head. Ha-Joon hyung lets out a startled cry as he topples and though this is a grade school level prank, I finally laugh.

"Winter, stop indulging him!" he cries, and Do-Hyun and I laugh back raucously.

Yes, I tell myself, I feel happy here.