6. Burning Heart

SIX

Hwa Chungae islivid when he finds out what happened. Word travels fast. Even if Charis had been inclined to hide it, there's no way that he could. The rest of Fairytale wouldn't let him.

Hwa Chungae shows up at their dorm at a little past 10 in the morning with a young and fresh-faced lawyer in tow. Charis can tell he's a lawyer at a glance, even before Hwa Chungae introduces him. But save for a nod and a quick wave of his hand, he doesn't seem to be there to say much of anything. He hangs back against the back wall and simply observes.

Meanwhile, Hwa Chungae rages.

Hwa Chungae is young as far as the executives go. He's in his mid-thirties but still old enough to be at least some of their dads. Right now he's filled with a righteous fire against the perpetrators who would dare to hurt his young, carefully tended charges.

"The absolute nerve! He could have seriously injured you. Really, these sasaengs are taking it too far." Hwa Chungae squints at him hard. "He didn't injure you?"

"Really, I'm fine."

"He got burned, Chungae-ssi," Kiki says.

Hwa Chungae's face darkens. "How bad? Let me see."

Charis' face changes color slightly. "Ah, it's somewhere kind of…"

At that, Hwa Chungae's face changes as well. "Ah, nevermind! Nevermind!" He waves the stack of papers in his hands as if warding off bad spirits. "And you didn't go to the doctor?" He gives Charis a skeptical, disapproving look.

Charis says helplessly, "It's really not that bad."

He'd put on a shirt this morning, and he's thankful for it, since Hwa Chungae had showed up unannounced. It's a loose, white shirt that buttons halfway down the front. It's made of a light and breathable fabric that feels tolerable as it brushes against the tender skin of his burn.

"The company is going to press charges, naturally," Hwa Chungae says as he reluctantly peels his gaze away from Charis, facing the rest of Fairytale to address this as a group. "This is utterly ridiculous. Bad actors can't be allowed to get away with this."

"We're all in agreement, Manager Hwa," Soohyun says, crossing his arms and stepping forward as their leader. "But Charis didn't get a good look at the guy who attacked him, so maybe it would be best to discuss this some other time."

Don't come into our home and upset Pocky further,is the obvious message there.

Soohyun doesn't overstep his role as the group leader, but his disapproval is clear.

Hwa Chungae, a loud and ostentatious man, doesn't have much shame to speak of, but he blinks and seems to catch himself then. "Ah. Well… right." He coughs, fanning himself with the papers lightly before adjusting his tie. "Charis will need to make a statement for the police, but he doesn't need to go down to the police station. Mr. Chen here can take his statement right away. Who did see the incident?"

At this, Kiki and Soohyun's hands go up.

"Xiao Yu saw the attacker," Mouse says, folding his arms.

"Right, then the three of you will talk to Mr. Chen next. We'll take statements from the rest of you as well, just to cover all our bases. The company is already preparing a public statement to condemn such actions with the strongest language possible."

Their manager seems to find his bearings as he speaks. Being in charge of the situation, being on top of things, is a wonderful balm for the feeling of being out of control. Though Charis can't partake right now, he shares the sentiment. He rubs the back of his neck and goes with the lawyer to talk in the other room.

It's hard to tell how old Mr. Chen is just by looking. He seems obviously younger than Hwa Chungae, and he must be older than Charis in order to be a lawyer, but his smooth skin and neatly cut hair give nothing away.

"You can relax," Mr. Chen says kindly as he faces Charis from opposite him on the couch. "I'm just going to ask a few questions."

"Right," Charis says, blowing out a breath. As he sits, the burned skin on his abdomen is starting to smart.

"Do you have any idea why someone would want to attack you?"

"No."

Mr. Chen pushes gently, prompting, "Have you maybe upset anyone? It doesn't have to be something big. Maybe it was something you did by accident, or something small."

Charis shakes his head. "Really, there's nothing."

Aside from the stardom, Charis is boring, and his life is ordinary. He's too busy to have much of a social life outside of Fairytale.

It was probably just some crazy fan upset because they feel like Charis is dragging the rest of the group down. As they talk, Charis begins to feel agitated. It starts like a light, buzzing irritation traveling up the base of his spine. Mr. Chen asks a few more questions about what Charis can remember of the incident, which in truth is not much. He had been talking to some fans, and he had looked up, and then he had had a cup of hot coffee splashed on him.

Despite the open and airy floor plan, Charis feels like there's not enough air in the room to breathe, although he's careful not to let it show on his face.

By the time their short interview is over, Charis' legs are starting to ache.

He gets up with a small wince, favoring the leg on his right side.

Mr. Chen's eyes are too sharp. He asks, "Did you hurt your leg in the attack, too?"

"No," Charis says, shaking his head. And since the company lawyer is almost certainly bound by an NDA, same as Charis, he says, "Just an old injury."

The others all go into the room one after another to talk with their lawyer in quick succession. Charis sits at the kitchen island, picking aimlessly at his bowl of fruit and yogurt. Hwa Chungae continues to stick around, which makes Charis feel agitated.

His nerves are stretched to the breaking point, and even he doesn't notice it, not until Hwa Chungae says something bumblingly offensive but harmlessly meant.

"Charis-ah, maybe if you did a bit more fan service, showed your fans the softer, sweeter side to you?—"

He wasn't expecting the sudden screech of Charis' chair against the tile. To be fair, neither was Charis.

Charis' voice cracks like a whip in the quiet space, sharp and harsh. "Then what? Then strangers wouldn't attack me on the street?" His side hurts. "You're saying it's my fault."

"No, no, of course I'm not."

"No one is saying that, Charis?—"

Charis sneers. "Yeah, yeah. I got the message."

He leaves his yogurt where it sits on the counter, stalking off down the hallway and back to his room. His door closes with a bang behind him, the slammed door calling the attention even of the people who weren't in the kitchen at the time.

"I really fucked that up, didn't I?" Hwa Chungae says, looking around the room at the gathered Fairytale members who look at him with guarded sympathy.

"Yeah, you really did," Mouse says around a lollipop stuck between his teeth.

Charis doesn't want to talk about it, so he keeps his door locked. Mouse, Soohyun, and even Kiki come by to try to talk to him, but he doesn't let any of them in. He puts his headphones on and cranks the volume up so loud that it leaks out the sides of the speakers, filling the room with tinny harmonies.

The next day, they all get to work on the songs for their new comeback. They have a meeting at the company to discuss the direction of their new album, and there are sample demos for them to listen to. Charis is laser-focused. He's extremely put-together today. He's wearing a black shirt in a sleek fabric that buttons up to his throat. The lines on the shirt are lean and long, emphasizing his slender and graceful physique. His hair is pulled back into an elegant high ponytail with wisps of pale hair gracing his face.

He's almost hard to look at when he's like this, nearly as pretty as Kiki in his own way.

True to his fan-given moniker, he uses his beauty as a shield to keep everyone out. His physical perfection is like a wall, or a barrier. You could scrabble at its exterior for a foothold for days and come away with nothing but a distant, baffled smile from Chairs for your time, as if you were the unusual one for trying to scale his walls.

He's sharp as a tack and perfectly professional at the meeting, as if yesterday's outburst had never happened, and Soohyun worries and worries.

Charis apologizes to Hwa Chungae as soon as he sees him, putting his hands together and bowing. "I apologize for my outburst yesterday, Chungae-ssi. I was overtired and wasn't feeling like myself."

Even Hwa Chungae, who is a businessman to the core, seems concerned by Charis' behavior.

"Kyong-ah, it's okay if you're upset. I came on a little strong yesterday and said some things I shouldn't." He rubs at the back of his neck.

"You're only doing what's best for the group. Like I said, I was feeling tired."

It's not that the way Charis is acting is a deviation from his normal behavior. Rather, it's that this is exactly the way Charis is. This is the way he's acted since their trainee days, but many of them know him well enough now to realize that it's not a good sign that he's doubling down.

He manages to make it through the day unscathed, with everyone around him simply looking on helplessly, repelled by his sleek carapace, until he inevitably has to go to the bathroom. Then, Mouse takes his chance.

"If you keep going on this way, you're going to crack and break. You get that, right?"

"Don't corner me in the bathroom," Charis says to Mouse as he pulls a paper towel from the dispenser and uses it to dry his hands.

"Oh? Is that a flicker of the real Charis I see under there? Come on, Pocky, don't bullshit me. Tell me what's wrong, and we can fix it."

"I'm not bullshitting anyone," Charis says as he balls up his used paper towel and sinks it effortlessly into the trashcan in the corner of the neat, luxe company bathroom. "Seriously, you and Soohyun keep looking for something that isn't there. Yeah, I got hurt, and it sucks, but I'm fine. I'm going to be fine. Let's just focus on getting this new album out, and we'll worry about the rest later."

Charis doesn't pull rank on the younger ones often, but even he's got a hyung voice he can use when he needs to. Mouse isn't actually younger than him, but the effect should still be the same.

Charis doesn't know what he was expecting, but it's not for Mouse to suddenly grab him. Mouse remembers where the coffee splashed, so he's careful not to touch Charis there. Instead, he goes in for a sudden back hug, startling Charis with a sudden arm around his neck. The force of it is quick and sudden enough to make Charis stumble back a few steps, right into Mouse's body.

Charis startles forward against the sudden pressure, and Mouse goes with him.

"Mouse, what?—"

Mouse presses his face into the side of Charis' neck, burying himself in the soft skin there. He smells as clean as he looks. Charis is so lean as to be almost insubstantial. They all are. Still, Mouse draws what comfort he can from this skinny monster, in this quiet, well-lit, deserted bathroom on the 7th floor of the place they all work.

"You're so stubborn," Mouse says, his voice muffled into the side of Charis' neck. "So stubborn, Pocky. Sometimes it's hard to know what to do with you."

Charis pats Mouse's arm a few times awkwardly, but any attempt to pull away is met by Mouse clinging even harder.

"Nngh," Mouse complains. "You're not allowed. You gotta stay here for a second and let me hug you. I had to watch someone throw hot coffee on you, you know. Scared me half to death."

"…I'm sorry," Charis says after a second, and lets Mouse do as he pleases.

Mouse huffs into his neck and slugs Charis gently on his good side. "Don't want you to be sorry, Pocky. Just want you to be safe."

Charis pats his arm a few times. "Alright, alright. Come on, let me go."

Mouse does so, reluctantly. He's pleasantly surprised when Charis takes the opportunity to turn around, embracing Mouse from the front. He guides Mouse's head back into position, right back where it was before.

Charis doesn't feel like he's naturally good at this—being affectionate with others, partaking in skinship, has never come easily to him—but he's a dogged learner in everything. He pats Mouse's back, rubbing down his spine and crinkling his other hand in the soft, dark fall of Mouse's hair. It must work, because he feels Mouse let out a deep, rumbling sigh.

"You're so good," Mouse says into his skin. "So be a little better at taking care of yourself, okay? Who's gonna be our light if it's not you, huh?"

He means Charis' real name, Kyong, which means brightness.

"Miyong," Charis says automatically, and Mouse huffs and chucks him beneath the chin.

"Wise guy, huh?"

He's a little surprised, when Mouse pulls back, that Mouse actually has gotten a bit wet beneath the eyes. The small, burgeoning smile on Charis' face wavers and slowly falls, his face returning to its usual serious cast. "Mouse…"

Mouse easily ducks Charis' reaching hand, slipping just outside his reach and sniffling as he fixes his hair again. "I'm fine. Worry about yourself better, okay?"

The irony isn't lost on Charis that he'd said something very similar to Soohyun just the other day.

They decided on a few tracks for their new album today. With all of Fairytale's input, they selected some songs to make up the backbone of the album. There were still some empty spaces, but all of the other decisions could be made around that framework.

Charis had gone home early, while Mouse had vocal lessons, and Soohyun-hyung had stayed behind to take care of some business at the company. That had left their four youngest members free to wander the city on their own, which they did.

Their milk tea date had been cut short the other day, and they all decided to make up for it for Miyong's sake. Well, ostensibly, it was for their maknae's sake. In reality, they all felt a bit like they had bugs crawling beneath their skin. It didn't feel so good, kind of buzzy and irritating, making them all feel restless. They were hoping a little tea, sugar, and fat would take care of the shitty feeling.

"So what do you think of what happened to Charis-hyung?" Miyong asks, kicking his feet.

They'd taken a train to Banpo Hangang Park, wanting to spend some time by the riverside. It's crowded today, but they'd found a place to sit on the long, sandy bleachers. In the distance, the fountain beneath the industrial bridge spanning the Han River makes prismatic rainbows in the air. Miyong's feet dangle in the air while he swings them.

"Don't talk so much. Drink your tea," Xiao Yu says, pulling Miyong's yellow, billed hat low enough on his face that it obscures his eyes.

"Hey!" Miyong calls, grabbing at his hat to pull it up again.

Kim Joon deftly swoops in and plucks the icy drink out of Miyong's hand, saving it from catastrophe, always on the lookout for Miyong's wellbeing. "Don't make trouble," he scolds lightly.

Of the four of them, Kiki is the one who seems the most unbothered by his companions' squabbling and shenanigans. The wind ruffles his hair, and he sips at his iced coffee—plain black, because despite yesterday's indulgence, he's watching his weight—and looks out at the water.

His hair is pulled back in a neat and clean ponytail with its end pulled through the hole on his cap. His neck is clean and golden above the white of his shirt collar, the fine hairs escaping at the nape of his neck a plain black—regrowth that hasn't yet been dyed yet. Xiao Yu always thinks that Kiki looks so soft here.

"I'm excited to do a new comeback," he says, setting aside his drink and using his core strength to lower himself down as he leans back. He spreads out his arms, extending his fingers to reach the wisps of grass that grow out of the sandy sediment. They're in the shade enough that he doesn't have to squint up at the blue sky. "I want to dance in front of people again."

"Me too," says Kim Joon with a slurp of his straw.

He sets his cup down and gets up. Without looking around, he strings together a selection of moves, a step-out moving into a body roll and an arm angle with a heel turn. They're all dancers here except for Miyong.

Kiki sits up on his elbows after a little while, crunching his ab muscles to do so. Kim Joon keeps dancing, and after a little while, Xiao Yu relents and gives him a beat. He beatboxes while Kim Joon dances, and as he comes to a stop, Kiki hoists himself up with a small groan and repeats the sequence. Kim Joon gives him a small smile when he's finished, then takes over the dance again, throwing in more ambitious moves.

It turns into a call and response, the both of them dancing on the riverside sand, grinning their way through an impromptu performance. By the time Kiki collapses back onto the steps to pick up his drink again, he's breathing a little harder and smiling from ear to ear, his one sharp canine tooth lending him an easygoing and rakish appearance.

Miyong claps his hands for them. "Hyung! Ah, hyung, that was so great. You have to do that on the new tour."

"Yeah?" Kim Joon asks him.

"Un!" Miyong nods his head enthusiastically. The bright, cherubic expression on his apple cheeks is shining and radiant—which only makes it all the more comical when that expression falls as Miyong goes to sip his ridiculously sweet taro drink and finds himself slurping at the bottom of the cup.

They all laugh, and Miyong pouts, but it's a thin, fragile type of displeasure that dissipates into the air like an insubstantial soap bubble when Xiao Yu reaches out to poke at his cheek.