When the elevator doors slid open on the top floor, I stepped out into a sleek hallway. Five meters ahead stood two doors—a main entrance and what looked like a side storage room. The main one gleamed with the D8 insignia.
I swiped the keycard. Nothing. "..." Tried again. Still nothing. "Is it broken or what?" I peered through the peephole.
The word "Unlocked!" blinked faintly inside.
"Oh. Double lock. Old-school trick," I chuckled, pushing the door open.
The scent of delicate flowers, like morning glory, greeted me first. A massive window stretched across the room, revealing a crystal-clear view of Seoul.
"Not even a 12K resolution TV could beat this," I muttered under my breath.
Beyond the glass was a private pool bordered by soft turf. To the left, a spotless white kitchen, a curved bar, rows of expensive champagne bottles, and a massive fridge that probably hid heaven inside. The lounge area had crimson Victorian sofas and a marble table perfect for cards—or trouble.
Upstairs, five rooms. Two were probably the bedrooms and bath.
"Nice setup… cold in here too—huh?" I frowned. No one seemed to be here, yet the air conditioner was running full blast.
Creak!
A door upstairs slowly opened.
"*Yawn~* man, I'm starving as hell."
A guy in a white shirt, joggers, and a chain necklace engraved with 486 stepped out, stretching his arms. His wavy, shoulder-length hair fell neatly down the sides of his face. Then, without warning, he vaulted over the railing—landing right in front of me.
And when he looked up—our eyes met. "Watcha step~~" The man with shoulder-length, loosely curled hair turned toward me. He was about my height, his tone sharp and half-joking.
"Who's this then?" he asked me in English, squinting with suspicion. His face was a striking mix—Asian features softened by Western edges. Big double-lidded eyes, a slim nose, and lips that curved like an artist's sketch. "Wait, you look familiar," he muttered, tilting his head.
"M-my name is White, i~ am the new member and~ uh~" I tried to speak English to him.
"Jinja ut gine. Na hangugeo hal su isseo.[1]" he replied. "So, what's the problem, rookie? Hm?" His tone turned taunting. "How much did he pay you, huh? How much did that bastard throw at your head?" The half-Korean lunged closer, eyes wide, voice sharp. Instinctively, I shoved him down on the ground.
Thud!
"Whoa, chill! I was fucking with you, man!" he wheezed, rubbing his elbow.
"You shouldn't pull pranks like that." I sighed. "So, let's redo the introduction again."
"I'm Sunny freakin' Shine; that's me. You must be Woo Seok Jin—with that silver hair, who else could it be? Man, I watched your SHIFT battle. crazy cool. But uh... not gonna lie, can you give me a hand? Cuz my back's killing me." I nodded and grabbed his arm to help him up.
"Good thing I didn't swing back. Some welcome party, huh?" I cracked some jokes.
"Totally normal around here," he chuckled. "We tried to plan something more... official, but, you know, schedules. Only me and Moon were free."
"Cheon Moon Kim?! He's here? Like, right now?!" I blurted, eyes lighting up. "Thought it'd just be you."
"Y–Yeah, but, uh... dragging him out right now might be a bad idea. He kinda... overdid it last night."
"Oh, no worries! Thanks for coming to greet me anyway. New hairstyle?" I asked, grinning.
"Ha! Yeah, management told me to grow it out. Now I look like a corpse with a perm. hehe~" Sunny let out a dry laugh.
"Must be hot under that mess, but honestly, it's cool. You look kinda like... the Joker. I remember seeing you in that Hollywood B-movie, Cog Gun. You had a buzzcut then—loved that flick."
He laughed. "Yeah! That was my debut gig here. I showed up, they handed me a script, told me to play a drug dealer sayin' Oh, Hi Mark and got shot in five seconds flat. My screen time was 10x shorter than JB's in Zoolander! The fuck was tHAT~?~" The guy had his voice crack.
Before I could reply, a new voice cut in from above.
"Damn, you're loud, Can't you ever shut up?"
[1] Yo, I can speak Korean bro.