He wanted to come much sooner—as soon as the informant reported back to him—but Kangho had obligations. SICKSZN had a tour to do, and there were variety show appearances to make, not to mention the modeling gigs and brand ambassadorships to fulfill; each day was a blur of work, management ushering him from one contract to the next, without a single moment’s peace. It’s only recently that he’s managed to make any time for himself at all, and only after excessive negotiating with everyone who stands to lose money if he rests. Even now, after coming to an agreement—Wednesday and Friday nights are his, so long as he’s photographed publicly at least once, and of course only if there isn’t a live performance already scheduled—he can feel the pressure from his team to commit to overtime.
At least the other guys aren’t disappointed. They put on a good show pretending to be, of course, teasing him for his work ethic while managers, handlers, and executives looked on, but behind closed doors, he’s seen the relief in their eyes: if he can take breaks, so can they. And they are just as eager to relax, party, go on dates, explore the cities in which they’ve been deposited.
They touched down in LA on Tuesday; he took Wednesday night to rest. Thursday was the first arena performance, and unfortunately Friday was the second, but now, finally, his second Wednesday in California, he’s free to do as he pleases—and not once has he stopped thinking about Minsu this whole time.
After wringing more money out of him, Orihara was more than willing to give details about where @wickdcreatures had gone and what he’d been doing. It was a relief to hear that he was alright, but admittedly Kangho was hurt. He couldn’t have said anything? It’s not like he owed him, but they saw each other so often, and his sudden disappearance was alarming.
Well, it doesn’t matter. With the information he’s been given, he’ll see him again—and pick up while he’s at it. Minsu needs that pretense; he likes a purposeful visit. And Kangho needs something to unwind. Lately he’s been enjoying the milk shot—Jungkook got him into it—but he misses coke. Maybe he’ll splurge, get both and a little something extra, see what California has to offer. Minsu always has everything.
The Uber drops him off at the hilltop mansion, which is already rife with visitors; inside, he can hear the muffled sounds of the party. His heart pounds in his ears as he enters the house. Thankfully the music—loud, rich with bass—drowns him out.
It isn’t Minsu’s scene, but he goes where the money is, and Orihara told him that he spends a lot of time here. Kangho scans the crowd, but the faces are only familiar because he’s seen them in magazines and movies. He dances with a pretty blonde popstar and an ‘incognito’ member of the press takes their photo, fulfilling the night’s only obligation.
Lulled into the party’s rhythm, he almost doesn’t notice the host slither by. In fact it’s the host who notices him first. Dark eyes glitter beneath the lights and he grins, their bodies pushed together by the mass of dancers. I know you, he says. Where are your friends? I’d have you all.
The look he gives him is so charged Kangho knows immediately he doesn’t mean he’d have them only as guests. He laughs, because the only other thing to do is stammer stupidly, and dances with him for a while; then, after a tasteful amount of time has passed, asks about party favors.
Zero directs him to the library.
It’s much quieter here. The room is soundproofed, though not excessively; the sounds of life are audible, but dampened, as if it were all happening much farther away. Nobody seems to have settled here, even to nod off quietly on opiates—no doubt because they’re being sent away expeditiously, unwelcome, ejected back into the party. Kangho can’t help but smile. Classic Minsu.
And there he is, sitting with his back straight at an antique desk, surrounded by product. Between customers, he appears to be running numbers. As usual.
His heart skips a beat. How has he gotten more handsome? This place has breathed new life into him. Maybe it could breathe life into Kangho, too. If only he could stay.
“Minsu!” He wanted to play it cool, but he can’t contain his joy. “I can’t believe I found you.”
