a different kind of crazy (2min)
TITLE A Different Kind of Crazy 27/?
SUMMARY Taemin's never been one to care about what's right or wrong. He doesn't think about things like what's accepted and what's not. He wants what he wants, but it's not always a walk in the park.
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS [SHINee] Taemin centric. Minho/Taemin, Jonghyun/Key. (f(x) & 2PM & etc cameos)
RATING/WARNING R. Mention and use of drugs. Mild violence. References to self-harm and mental disorders.
GENRE Drama/romance/coming-of-age
1 2 3 4 5 6 ♥ 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 minholude 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 mlude 2 21 22 23 24 25 26
a different kind of crazy;
Luckily, Taemin hadn't missed any dance practices in his small bout of insanity. Kibum swings by to pick him up, more than annoyed his texts and calls had been ignored, but mostly because Taemin had broken his promise.
Taemin is only forgiven when he lets slip Rino's radical idea for their first performance of the new year, in a smaller venue: mostly an amateur competition between local schools of dance and theatre. It's also a gathering, almost like an art fair-cum-party, and it lasts throughout the first weekend of March.
"Alice. In Wonderland." Kibum repeats slowly, sportsbag swung over his shoulder. "Well, do you think she can pull it off?"
"She can or she can't." Taemin shrugs. "But she's definitely the only one who could."
"I hope she holds try-outs. I don't want it to just be pick and choose." Kibum muses as they enter the studio. Sulli is back in full swing, though her ankle is still wrapped as precaution, and they are two of the last to show as they usually are.
Rino's going over a difficult b-boy move with a newer student near the small stage, leaving one open gap in the mirror for them to snag for quick warm-ups.
"Have you ever seen The Fast and the Furious?" Kibum starts the conversation, as he often does, on a completely random foot.
"That car movie?" Taemin replies, folding over himself to touch his toes. Curiously, he adds, "With Bruce Willis?"
"Uhm, that's Vin Diesel." Kibum corrects him. "Jjong and I rented it yesterday. You should watch it; it's all about organized crime and shit. And street racing."
Taemin laughs. "Like a movie can compare to real life."
"Well, you would know." Kibum replies, twisting his torso back and forth to limber up. Taemin is about to argue when Rino calls their attentions to her and class has officially begun.
"Welcome back," she chimes. "I hope everybody had a good Christmas. This is the only class we'll have this week, after the new year it will be back to Mondays and Fridays as well. Don't forget!
"Now, I have an announcement regarding the upcoming arts festival in March--this might call out to the more theatrical dancers--a modern adaption of Alice in Wonderland."
"In tights?" One of the more brassy students calls out incredulously. Taemin seconds his thoughts.
"Maybe just you." Rino rolls her eyes. "Since it's only our second year performing in the festival, I intend it to be more of a fun production. Liberties can and will be taken--so prepare yourselves."
That generates and eruption of laughter and excitation from the nineteen or so students present--the entire class would comprise of about thirty-five. Pleased, Rino goes on. "I've been working with a string quartet for some of the music. This is going to be mostly interpretive, a mixture of all types of dance. I want it to be like Salvidor Dali's famous quote: I don't do drugs, I am drugs."
"So, like Cirque de Solei?" Sulli pipes in.
"Close!" Rino nods amiably. "There won't be tightropes or clowns. Since this is for the arts festival, it's not optional, however, next Friday I'll be having tryouts for the main roles--Alice, of course, the Queen and King of Hearts, the Dormouse, the Cheshire Cat, The Hatter, The Caterpillar, The White Rabbit, and the Hare. If you're not familiar with Alice in Wonderland I suggest you do your research, unless you want to be stuck with tech or a minor role. I expect everyone's participation and cooperation--that is the only way this is going to work."
A small round of complaints echo, but just as much anticipation is hanging in the air. Kibum looks thoughtful and Taemin whispers over to him, "You've got an idea?"
"I wouldn't mind being the Cheshire Cat. You have to tryout with me, besides I'm sure Rino already has a role in mind for her biases. Wanna make a bet? 30,000W says Sulli will be Alice and you will be the Hatter."
"Why the Hatter?" Taemin moues, both of them thoroughly distracted from whatever Rino is continuing to announce.
"Haven't you seen the new movie? Creepy but kind of interesting subtle romance between Alice and Johnny Depp?"
"You mean the Hatter?"
"You got that, Kibum and Taemin?" Rino calls them out, cutting off his reply. "No, you didn't. I don't like to repeat myself, so quit that for the last time. We're going over the tapes from the performance, and I want everyone to critique each sequence. There is still a lot to improve upon."
And so they end up spending nearly two hours watching and commentating and another fifteen minutes of Rino going on about the major points that needed to be addressed before they're finally released, twenty minutes late on Taemin's part--it's 8:24 and Minho is sitting under the veranda near the stairs beside the studio, contemplating a translated classic as if he were an astute reader himself.
Kibum spots him as well and lets out an airy laugh. He doesn't even have words for the situation, so he parts with a glance that warns Taemin to stay out of trouble and an acknowledging wave to Minho.
Minho stomps out his cigarette and stuffs his book back into his bag. "You're late."
"Captain obvious." Taemin quips, getting him back from earlier. Minho chuckles--Taemin knows by now he just likes to jerk around; he's a natural bully, not really a purposeful one. "I don't want to go somewhere fancy."
"You're late, the decision is no longer yours." Minho swings an arm around Taemin's shoulder, shaking him about like a loose leaf on a tree. Taemin leans his weight on the fallback and bumps him over with more force than necessary, wondering if this is some kind of retarded flirtation. "How about kitsch? I have a place in mind."
Taemin's really not surprised to find himself in Diner Diadem.
Memories of the first time he'd been within the goldenrod walls, nearly every inch decorated in sharpied graffiti, come back to him: Krystal's fidgeting and weird mannerisms, the expensive coffee that wasn't half bad, his own abrasive naivety--and suddenly Taemin is overcome by a feeling he is starting to dread. His cluelessness never ceases to astound him. He's learned a lot since then, but he feels like he's gotten nowhere with it.
Minho interrupts his thoughts by nudging his leg under the table, tilting his head towards the waitress, who is looking expectantly at Taemin with her pen posed on pad.
"Oh," Taemin says, "Uhm, water."
Minho shakes his head, and his eyes are mirthful at Taemin's expense. "And another Cass Light."
The waitress saunters off with their order just as Minho lights a cigarette, pulling the glass ashtray closer to him. "I overheard you're doing a production of Alice in Wonderland?"
Taemin blinks at him. "Since when were you one for small talk?"
"How is it small talk?" Minho retorts, huffing out smoke in a heady snort. He's wrapped up in an expensive looking coat and hadn't bothered to remove his cashmere scarf, either. It's warm in the diner. Despite Taemin's bony build, he's stripped down to his sweater; a pale sea foam in color, oddly suiting to the atmosphere of Diadem. Something is off, that much Taemin can pick up from visual alone.
"It's unlike you to take interest in my life." Taemin replies haughtily, pulling his legs up onto the booth and crossing them. He points a sleeve-addled hand at Minho. "What's the catch?"
Minho rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat and giving off an aura of caprice; where one moment he had been open and inviting, yet physically closed off, the next he is displaying a guiltless overconfidence, and it's sickeningly overbearing. His oxymoronical composure bends Taemin's own perception, and unwittingly, he crosses his arms in front of himself.
It's always like this, and Taemin's catching on to it now. He's only an idiot for being so slow on the uptake.
Minho merely regards him from his relaxed poise, the cinders of his cigarette reflecting in the window every time he takes a lengthy draw. It's lost in the sparkling Christmas glitter strung through the trees outside, lighting the streets in a festive hue. The waitress sets their open beers on the table. They condensate in the overheated restaurant, crowded with young peoples trying to dodge the cold.
Taemin is beyond questioning how Minho never gets bothered for ordering alcohol underage, and he hadn't even bothered to look at the menu yet, so he just orders the same thing Krystal had last time, ignores Minho's quirked brow, and takes a huge gulp of the piss-water placed before for him.
It's only then Minho decides to answer his question, as if coming to a conclusion of his observations. "Sometimes I get the feeling you totally hate me."
"I totally do." Taemin agrees. "But if that's all I felt I wouldn't be sitting here with you on this poor excuse of a proper date."
"Tell me how to make it proper then." Minho looks honestly curious, snuffing his cigarette out and marring the pristine ashtray.
Taemin considers his question and its loaded contents. He doesn't know how to answer, doesn't really want to, so he changes the subject awkwardly instead. "Aren't you hot in all that?" he gestures vaguely to Minho's overdressed self.
"No, I'm freezing actually." Minho admits, nursing his beer by its neck, contents already half emptied. "Aren't you?"
"Are you getting sick?" Taemin frowns at him.
"I thought we weren't ones for small talk." Minho makes to cheer for that, holding his glass up; as if he needs a reason to drink, Taemin thinks.
"Fine. You win this round." Taemin looses a sigh. "Yes, there's an arts festival coming up in March and we're doing a modern adaptation of Alice in Wonderland."
"Who are you going to play?"
Despite Taemin's apprehension to give into Minho's whims, he finds he's eager to answer him. "I don't know yet. Kibum thinks I should go for the Hatter."
Minho grins at that. "Makes sense." he says. "I'll make it this time. I promise."
"No need to promise." Taemin replies, though he's smiling stupidly back. "You'll have more than one opportunity not to miss it."
Minho snorts out an abrupt laugh. "You'll owe me if I come to see the show every night, then. Should I bring you flowers? I still want you to cheer for me at one of my matches."
Taemin is not so easily led out of the shallow waters. "Aha." he goes, "So that's the catch!"
Minho's still laughing at him. "Do you even know how to relax?"
His question puts Taemin off; though he has a point. "I guess not." he admits, donning a childish pout.
"Then I think this date is still redeemable." Minho smiles at him. "I'll show you how to relax--and how to live a little."
His surge of energy carries over to Taemin, who willingly takes the bait. What has he got to lose? Everything? Not like it matters.
Minho flags down the waitress, requesting their orders to be arranged for take out. "Finish your beer; I need to run an errand and then we'll be on our way."
"What, are you gonna smoke me out?"
"No," Minho's eyes shine with a strange excitement. "We're going to have a tea party, properly suited for the Mad Hatter."
The wind is harsh and unforgiving at the scooter's highest speed as they wind through the corridors of cars and taxis and buses without a hint of caution, ignoring honks and upset pedestrians; Minho even cheerfully flips the bird to a few as he zips past them.
He pulls up in front of a small shop, neon sign blinking OPEN, one letter flickering the last of its fading gases. The name, painted in a scratched silver, is Satellite State, and inside it's all wonderfully phantasmagorical. Taemin's beginning to think Minho knows all the hidden jewels of the city--another Seoul within its own, composite of clandestine byways and interconnected secrets.
He leads Taemin to the back of the shop, short hellos bypassing the cashier, who fiddles with a glass tobacco pipe under a black-light, as if checking to make sure it works. They pass through a door canvased in psychedelic print and into an orange room, lights dimmed for ambiance.
"What brings you down here?" chimes one of Minho's cohorts; Wooyoung, was it? A hookah is set up on the low table before him, and a few other people Taemin doesn't recognize are passing the hose, billows of strange scented smoke clouding the room.
"I called you earlier." Minho replies in greeting. "Why didn't you pick up?"
Wooyoung looks chastised, but remains comfortably seated on his tussah pillow. Taemin is severely reminded of the awfully subbed episodes of That 70's Show Kibum once made him watch.
"I got your message." he says, eyeing Taemin with a raised brow. "Something up?"
"Get up," Minho's not in the mood for casual chatter, nor is he particularly polite. "You know what I'm here for."
"Caps, bro!" crows one of the girls cohabiting the crescent of pillows; her brimmed beanie hides half of her face, but Taemin recognizes her voice--it's Hyoyeon.
Minho ignores her and follows after the obediently retreating figure of Wooyoung, turning only to say, "Wait here."
Taemin refrains from sticking his tongue out at Minho's back when Hyoyeon pipes in, "Make yourself comfortable, newbie." and pats on the empty seat Wooyoung had vacated. "Ever smoked shisha before?"
Taemin's never heard of shisha or hookah in his life. The contraption is elegantly bizarre, configured of metal and frosted glass; it's topped with a clay trumpet, foiled over and balancing two disc shaped coals.
"Try it." another of the smokers urges, handing the hose to him. "It's just like smoking weed. You straight up inhale it. The flavor is Sex on the Beach, but it tastes like candied apples."
"Oh, and lift your tongue if you want to get a good taste!" Hyoyeon adds with a salacious laugh.
Taemin takes the hose connected to the hookah, attempting to follow his instructions, and the sweet taste fills his lungs, chilled and vapory. When he exhales, he feels like a mighty dragon and a tad bit light-headed.
The music is almost too loud to hear over, and Taemin's thankful for that. He sits in on a few more rounds of the shisha before Minho and Wooyoung return from Never Never Land.
Minho grins at the sight of Taemin shrouded in thick smoke. "Having fun?" he asks.
"Who's the kid again?" Wooyoung intercedes, wiping his hands on his pants like he's nervous, like he's in trouble or something.
"The kid is Taemin." Taemin speaks up for himself, though not impolitely. He puts on a generous smile--one that usually works in his favor.
Wooyoung just frowns at him and Minho laughs. "And there you have it." he says, lifting a hand in farewell.
"Wait," Hyoyeon flags him, unfolding herself from the pillows and hopping to her feet. "Did you come on your scooter?"
Minho blinks at her. "Yeah?"
"Shit." she mutters, digging around in her hoodie for something and pulling out a crumpled wad of cash. "Spokes?" she says, wiggling her eyes suggestively. "I need a ride."
"I'm not a chauffeur service." Minho argues, "And I know what you're up to."
"Do you now?" Hyoyeon's grin is mischievous and when she sees Taemin watching her, she winks at him. "Does he?"
Minho slaps a hand to his forehead, purposefully melodramatic. "Fine. Though I'm not stopping for you if you fall off."
"Deal!" Hyoyeon does a tricky hop-skip, clapping her Converse in the air and dashing out ahead of them, calling over her shoulder with an excited cackle, "I told you I'd get my hands on some, Wooyoungie! I have leverage after all."
Taemin really wants to ask what the fuck just happened. Instead, he says, "Where the fuck are we going?"
"It's supposed to be a surprise." Minho's reply is completely useless, and he holds the door open for Taemin. Hyoyeon is already by the vespa, leaning against it and texting speedily on her phone.
"I'm not going to regret this, am I?" Taemin replies morbidly.
Minho chuckles. "There's no room in life for regrets." he says, waxing stoic and succeeding quite nicely.
"Yo," Hyoyeon salutes them, interrupting. "Krystal's got drops. And she says you are not allowed to break the ice without her, I'm quoting here, you owe her from summer vacation."
"Seriously?" Minho's not impressed. "This isn't a b.y.o.b event. Tell her to fuck off."
"She knows the spot." Hyoyeon shrugs, unfazed. "And you said you knew what I was up to."
"What are you up to?" Taemin asks, hopelessly lost and dying to know.
Hyoyeon grins nefariously at him. "Consider yourself lucky," she says. "Caps are hard to come by in the winter, and anybody who knows anything knows Minho brews the best shroom tea in town."
Minho releases a heavy sigh. "Way to spoil the magic."
"Way." Hyoyeon balances herself on the bike's spokes, waving them to hurry up. "The magic has yet to begin!"
It's a short but rickety ride to Hyoyeon's flat--which is even smaller than Kibum's, at the top floor of an ancient bricky building, and a complete and utter sty; the only thing Taemin can make out in the mess is a large drum-kit. She spends almost ten minutes digging around mounds of livery before finally unearthing a portable kettle and a wooden box.
She re-emerges triumphant and says, "Not to worry. Krystal's on her way, she's bringing honey and sugar."
Taemin is very worried.
"Roof, then?" Minho's calm in the face of chaos, and he braves his way across the floor, shoving the window forcefully open. It exits right onto the rusting red platform of the fire escape.
Hyoyeon kicks a stack of magazines out of the way and yanks an extension cord from under the depths of her futon, plugging it into the outlet in her tiny kitchenette, closest to the window. She hands it to Minho once he's through the window, climbing out herself and trekking quickly up the nine or so stairs leading to the flat roof. Minho waits, sticking his head back inside, and reaches for Taemin, dragging him over by the sleeve.
Taemin's not really resisting, and he can't help but laugh at the situation, pleased when Minho pulls him in and steals a quick kiss. He bites Taemin's lip just as he's pulling back, as if beckoning. "You coming?"
And how could Taemin possibly say no to that?
previous | next
note; So, IDK if hookah or shisha or shrooms exist in South Korea. I hope they do, kukuku. Also, I live in Oregon now! Fuck yeah, west coast! Portland is bitchin'. Anyone from around here?
SUMMARY Taemin's never been one to care about what's right or wrong. He doesn't think about things like what's accepted and what's not. He wants what he wants, but it's not always a walk in the park.
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS [SHINee] Taemin centric. Minho/Taemin, Jonghyun/Key. (f(x) & 2PM & etc cameos)
RATING/WARNING R. Mention and use of drugs. Mild violence. References to self-harm and mental disorders.
GENRE Drama/romance/coming-of-age
1 2 3 4 5 6 ♥ 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 minholude 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 mlude 2 21 22 23 24 25 26
a different kind of crazy;
Luckily, Taemin hadn't missed any dance practices in his small bout of insanity. Kibum swings by to pick him up, more than annoyed his texts and calls had been ignored, but mostly because Taemin had broken his promise.
Taemin is only forgiven when he lets slip Rino's radical idea for their first performance of the new year, in a smaller venue: mostly an amateur competition between local schools of dance and theatre. It's also a gathering, almost like an art fair-cum-party, and it lasts throughout the first weekend of March.
"Alice. In Wonderland." Kibum repeats slowly, sportsbag swung over his shoulder. "Well, do you think she can pull it off?"
"She can or she can't." Taemin shrugs. "But she's definitely the only one who could."
"I hope she holds try-outs. I don't want it to just be pick and choose." Kibum muses as they enter the studio. Sulli is back in full swing, though her ankle is still wrapped as precaution, and they are two of the last to show as they usually are.
Rino's going over a difficult b-boy move with a newer student near the small stage, leaving one open gap in the mirror for them to snag for quick warm-ups.
"Have you ever seen The Fast and the Furious?" Kibum starts the conversation, as he often does, on a completely random foot.
"That car movie?" Taemin replies, folding over himself to touch his toes. Curiously, he adds, "With Bruce Willis?"
"Uhm, that's Vin Diesel." Kibum corrects him. "Jjong and I rented it yesterday. You should watch it; it's all about organized crime and shit. And street racing."
Taemin laughs. "Like a movie can compare to real life."
"Well, you would know." Kibum replies, twisting his torso back and forth to limber up. Taemin is about to argue when Rino calls their attentions to her and class has officially begun.
"Welcome back," she chimes. "I hope everybody had a good Christmas. This is the only class we'll have this week, after the new year it will be back to Mondays and Fridays as well. Don't forget!
"Now, I have an announcement regarding the upcoming arts festival in March--this might call out to the more theatrical dancers--a modern adaption of Alice in Wonderland."
"In tights?" One of the more brassy students calls out incredulously. Taemin seconds his thoughts.
"Maybe just you." Rino rolls her eyes. "Since it's only our second year performing in the festival, I intend it to be more of a fun production. Liberties can and will be taken--so prepare yourselves."
That generates and eruption of laughter and excitation from the nineteen or so students present--the entire class would comprise of about thirty-five. Pleased, Rino goes on. "I've been working with a string quartet for some of the music. This is going to be mostly interpretive, a mixture of all types of dance. I want it to be like Salvidor Dali's famous quote: I don't do drugs, I am drugs."
"So, like Cirque de Solei?" Sulli pipes in.
"Close!" Rino nods amiably. "There won't be tightropes or clowns. Since this is for the arts festival, it's not optional, however, next Friday I'll be having tryouts for the main roles--Alice, of course, the Queen and King of Hearts, the Dormouse, the Cheshire Cat, The Hatter, The Caterpillar, The White Rabbit, and the Hare. If you're not familiar with Alice in Wonderland I suggest you do your research, unless you want to be stuck with tech or a minor role. I expect everyone's participation and cooperation--that is the only way this is going to work."
A small round of complaints echo, but just as much anticipation is hanging in the air. Kibum looks thoughtful and Taemin whispers over to him, "You've got an idea?"
"I wouldn't mind being the Cheshire Cat. You have to tryout with me, besides I'm sure Rino already has a role in mind for her biases. Wanna make a bet? 30,000W says Sulli will be Alice and you will be the Hatter."
"Why the Hatter?" Taemin moues, both of them thoroughly distracted from whatever Rino is continuing to announce.
"Haven't you seen the new movie? Creepy but kind of interesting subtle romance between Alice and Johnny Depp?"
"You mean the Hatter?"
"You got that, Kibum and Taemin?" Rino calls them out, cutting off his reply. "No, you didn't. I don't like to repeat myself, so quit that for the last time. We're going over the tapes from the performance, and I want everyone to critique each sequence. There is still a lot to improve upon."
And so they end up spending nearly two hours watching and commentating and another fifteen minutes of Rino going on about the major points that needed to be addressed before they're finally released, twenty minutes late on Taemin's part--it's 8:24 and Minho is sitting under the veranda near the stairs beside the studio, contemplating a translated classic as if he were an astute reader himself.
Kibum spots him as well and lets out an airy laugh. He doesn't even have words for the situation, so he parts with a glance that warns Taemin to stay out of trouble and an acknowledging wave to Minho.
Minho stomps out his cigarette and stuffs his book back into his bag. "You're late."
"Captain obvious." Taemin quips, getting him back from earlier. Minho chuckles--Taemin knows by now he just likes to jerk around; he's a natural bully, not really a purposeful one. "I don't want to go somewhere fancy."
"You're late, the decision is no longer yours." Minho swings an arm around Taemin's shoulder, shaking him about like a loose leaf on a tree. Taemin leans his weight on the fallback and bumps him over with more force than necessary, wondering if this is some kind of retarded flirtation. "How about kitsch? I have a place in mind."
Taemin's really not surprised to find himself in Diner Diadem.
Memories of the first time he'd been within the goldenrod walls, nearly every inch decorated in sharpied graffiti, come back to him: Krystal's fidgeting and weird mannerisms, the expensive coffee that wasn't half bad, his own abrasive naivety--and suddenly Taemin is overcome by a feeling he is starting to dread. His cluelessness never ceases to astound him. He's learned a lot since then, but he feels like he's gotten nowhere with it.
Minho interrupts his thoughts by nudging his leg under the table, tilting his head towards the waitress, who is looking expectantly at Taemin with her pen posed on pad.
"Oh," Taemin says, "Uhm, water."
Minho shakes his head, and his eyes are mirthful at Taemin's expense. "And another Cass Light."
The waitress saunters off with their order just as Minho lights a cigarette, pulling the glass ashtray closer to him. "I overheard you're doing a production of Alice in Wonderland?"
Taemin blinks at him. "Since when were you one for small talk?"
"How is it small talk?" Minho retorts, huffing out smoke in a heady snort. He's wrapped up in an expensive looking coat and hadn't bothered to remove his cashmere scarf, either. It's warm in the diner. Despite Taemin's bony build, he's stripped down to his sweater; a pale sea foam in color, oddly suiting to the atmosphere of Diadem. Something is off, that much Taemin can pick up from visual alone.
"It's unlike you to take interest in my life." Taemin replies haughtily, pulling his legs up onto the booth and crossing them. He points a sleeve-addled hand at Minho. "What's the catch?"
Minho rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat and giving off an aura of caprice; where one moment he had been open and inviting, yet physically closed off, the next he is displaying a guiltless overconfidence, and it's sickeningly overbearing. His oxymoronical composure bends Taemin's own perception, and unwittingly, he crosses his arms in front of himself.
It's always like this, and Taemin's catching on to it now. He's only an idiot for being so slow on the uptake.
Minho merely regards him from his relaxed poise, the cinders of his cigarette reflecting in the window every time he takes a lengthy draw. It's lost in the sparkling Christmas glitter strung through the trees outside, lighting the streets in a festive hue. The waitress sets their open beers on the table. They condensate in the overheated restaurant, crowded with young peoples trying to dodge the cold.
Taemin is beyond questioning how Minho never gets bothered for ordering alcohol underage, and he hadn't even bothered to look at the menu yet, so he just orders the same thing Krystal had last time, ignores Minho's quirked brow, and takes a huge gulp of the piss-water placed before for him.
It's only then Minho decides to answer his question, as if coming to a conclusion of his observations. "Sometimes I get the feeling you totally hate me."
"I totally do." Taemin agrees. "But if that's all I felt I wouldn't be sitting here with you on this poor excuse of a proper date."
"Tell me how to make it proper then." Minho looks honestly curious, snuffing his cigarette out and marring the pristine ashtray.
Taemin considers his question and its loaded contents. He doesn't know how to answer, doesn't really want to, so he changes the subject awkwardly instead. "Aren't you hot in all that?" he gestures vaguely to Minho's overdressed self.
"No, I'm freezing actually." Minho admits, nursing his beer by its neck, contents already half emptied. "Aren't you?"
"Are you getting sick?" Taemin frowns at him.
"I thought we weren't ones for small talk." Minho makes to cheer for that, holding his glass up; as if he needs a reason to drink, Taemin thinks.
"Fine. You win this round." Taemin looses a sigh. "Yes, there's an arts festival coming up in March and we're doing a modern adaptation of Alice in Wonderland."
"Who are you going to play?"
Despite Taemin's apprehension to give into Minho's whims, he finds he's eager to answer him. "I don't know yet. Kibum thinks I should go for the Hatter."
Minho grins at that. "Makes sense." he says. "I'll make it this time. I promise."
"No need to promise." Taemin replies, though he's smiling stupidly back. "You'll have more than one opportunity not to miss it."
Minho snorts out an abrupt laugh. "You'll owe me if I come to see the show every night, then. Should I bring you flowers? I still want you to cheer for me at one of my matches."
Taemin is not so easily led out of the shallow waters. "Aha." he goes, "So that's the catch!"
Minho's still laughing at him. "Do you even know how to relax?"
His question puts Taemin off; though he has a point. "I guess not." he admits, donning a childish pout.
"Then I think this date is still redeemable." Minho smiles at him. "I'll show you how to relax--and how to live a little."
His surge of energy carries over to Taemin, who willingly takes the bait. What has he got to lose? Everything? Not like it matters.
Minho flags down the waitress, requesting their orders to be arranged for take out. "Finish your beer; I need to run an errand and then we'll be on our way."
"What, are you gonna smoke me out?"
"No," Minho's eyes shine with a strange excitement. "We're going to have a tea party, properly suited for the Mad Hatter."
The wind is harsh and unforgiving at the scooter's highest speed as they wind through the corridors of cars and taxis and buses without a hint of caution, ignoring honks and upset pedestrians; Minho even cheerfully flips the bird to a few as he zips past them.
He pulls up in front of a small shop, neon sign blinking OPEN, one letter flickering the last of its fading gases. The name, painted in a scratched silver, is Satellite State, and inside it's all wonderfully phantasmagorical. Taemin's beginning to think Minho knows all the hidden jewels of the city--another Seoul within its own, composite of clandestine byways and interconnected secrets.
He leads Taemin to the back of the shop, short hellos bypassing the cashier, who fiddles with a glass tobacco pipe under a black-light, as if checking to make sure it works. They pass through a door canvased in psychedelic print and into an orange room, lights dimmed for ambiance.
"What brings you down here?" chimes one of Minho's cohorts; Wooyoung, was it? A hookah is set up on the low table before him, and a few other people Taemin doesn't recognize are passing the hose, billows of strange scented smoke clouding the room.
"I called you earlier." Minho replies in greeting. "Why didn't you pick up?"
Wooyoung looks chastised, but remains comfortably seated on his tussah pillow. Taemin is severely reminded of the awfully subbed episodes of That 70's Show Kibum once made him watch.
"I got your message." he says, eyeing Taemin with a raised brow. "Something up?"
"Get up," Minho's not in the mood for casual chatter, nor is he particularly polite. "You know what I'm here for."
"Caps, bro!" crows one of the girls cohabiting the crescent of pillows; her brimmed beanie hides half of her face, but Taemin recognizes her voice--it's Hyoyeon.
Minho ignores her and follows after the obediently retreating figure of Wooyoung, turning only to say, "Wait here."
Taemin refrains from sticking his tongue out at Minho's back when Hyoyeon pipes in, "Make yourself comfortable, newbie." and pats on the empty seat Wooyoung had vacated. "Ever smoked shisha before?"
Taemin's never heard of shisha or hookah in his life. The contraption is elegantly bizarre, configured of metal and frosted glass; it's topped with a clay trumpet, foiled over and balancing two disc shaped coals.
"Try it." another of the smokers urges, handing the hose to him. "It's just like smoking weed. You straight up inhale it. The flavor is Sex on the Beach, but it tastes like candied apples."
"Oh, and lift your tongue if you want to get a good taste!" Hyoyeon adds with a salacious laugh.
Taemin takes the hose connected to the hookah, attempting to follow his instructions, and the sweet taste fills his lungs, chilled and vapory. When he exhales, he feels like a mighty dragon and a tad bit light-headed.
The music is almost too loud to hear over, and Taemin's thankful for that. He sits in on a few more rounds of the shisha before Minho and Wooyoung return from Never Never Land.
Minho grins at the sight of Taemin shrouded in thick smoke. "Having fun?" he asks.
"Who's the kid again?" Wooyoung intercedes, wiping his hands on his pants like he's nervous, like he's in trouble or something.
"The kid is Taemin." Taemin speaks up for himself, though not impolitely. He puts on a generous smile--one that usually works in his favor.
Wooyoung just frowns at him and Minho laughs. "And there you have it." he says, lifting a hand in farewell.
"Wait," Hyoyeon flags him, unfolding herself from the pillows and hopping to her feet. "Did you come on your scooter?"
Minho blinks at her. "Yeah?"
"Shit." she mutters, digging around in her hoodie for something and pulling out a crumpled wad of cash. "Spokes?" she says, wiggling her eyes suggestively. "I need a ride."
"I'm not a chauffeur service." Minho argues, "And I know what you're up to."
"Do you now?" Hyoyeon's grin is mischievous and when she sees Taemin watching her, she winks at him. "Does he?"
Minho slaps a hand to his forehead, purposefully melodramatic. "Fine. Though I'm not stopping for you if you fall off."
"Deal!" Hyoyeon does a tricky hop-skip, clapping her Converse in the air and dashing out ahead of them, calling over her shoulder with an excited cackle, "I told you I'd get my hands on some, Wooyoungie! I have leverage after all."
Taemin really wants to ask what the fuck just happened. Instead, he says, "Where the fuck are we going?"
"It's supposed to be a surprise." Minho's reply is completely useless, and he holds the door open for Taemin. Hyoyeon is already by the vespa, leaning against it and texting speedily on her phone.
"I'm not going to regret this, am I?" Taemin replies morbidly.
Minho chuckles. "There's no room in life for regrets." he says, waxing stoic and succeeding quite nicely.
"Yo," Hyoyeon salutes them, interrupting. "Krystal's got drops. And she says you are not allowed to break the ice without her, I'm quoting here, you owe her from summer vacation."
"Seriously?" Minho's not impressed. "This isn't a b.y.o.b event. Tell her to fuck off."
"She knows the spot." Hyoyeon shrugs, unfazed. "And you said you knew what I was up to."
"What are you up to?" Taemin asks, hopelessly lost and dying to know.
Hyoyeon grins nefariously at him. "Consider yourself lucky," she says. "Caps are hard to come by in the winter, and anybody who knows anything knows Minho brews the best shroom tea in town."
Minho releases a heavy sigh. "Way to spoil the magic."
"Way." Hyoyeon balances herself on the bike's spokes, waving them to hurry up. "The magic has yet to begin!"
It's a short but rickety ride to Hyoyeon's flat--which is even smaller than Kibum's, at the top floor of an ancient bricky building, and a complete and utter sty; the only thing Taemin can make out in the mess is a large drum-kit. She spends almost ten minutes digging around mounds of livery before finally unearthing a portable kettle and a wooden box.
She re-emerges triumphant and says, "Not to worry. Krystal's on her way, she's bringing honey and sugar."
Taemin is very worried.
"Roof, then?" Minho's calm in the face of chaos, and he braves his way across the floor, shoving the window forcefully open. It exits right onto the rusting red platform of the fire escape.
Hyoyeon kicks a stack of magazines out of the way and yanks an extension cord from under the depths of her futon, plugging it into the outlet in her tiny kitchenette, closest to the window. She hands it to Minho once he's through the window, climbing out herself and trekking quickly up the nine or so stairs leading to the flat roof. Minho waits, sticking his head back inside, and reaches for Taemin, dragging him over by the sleeve.
Taemin's not really resisting, and he can't help but laugh at the situation, pleased when Minho pulls him in and steals a quick kiss. He bites Taemin's lip just as he's pulling back, as if beckoning. "You coming?"
And how could Taemin possibly say no to that?
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note; So, IDK if hookah or shisha or shrooms exist in South Korea. I hope they do, kukuku. Also, I live in Oregon now! Fuck yeah, west coast! Portland is bitchin'. Anyone from around here?