The sound of china cracking on hardwood rang through the long halls of the Han Manor. They were soon followed by screams, which were in turn followed by more crashes. The manor staff of around a dozen neatly uniformed men and women remained unfazed and in position, save for two girls who scurried off to grab a dustpan and broom.
Upstairs in the left wing of the house, the young master screwed his eyes shut and groaned. It was a typical Tuesday night at the Han Manor, and his womanizing oaf of a father had managed to royally piss off yet another one of his live-in girlfriends. He was sitting in the corner of his bedroom at his beautiful, red oak work desk, with his pen clenched tightly in his hand. He had been trying to study for his high school midterm, but it looked like it would be in vain. He had been reading the same math problem for the last five minutes, approximately the time that the mindless yelling had begun. The boy let out another irritated sigh and let his shoulders drop. He slid back in his seat, and a curtain of dark brown hair fell into his eyes. It was his third year, and his father should have known better then to cause a ruckus at such an important time in his schooling.
"He should know better..." the boy thought, and visibly flinched as the next crash echoed through the house. He placed his pen down on the table and rubbed his temples. He tried to take a few calming breaths in, but it was of little use, he was barely keeping a lid on his own overflowing emotions.
BAM!
The boy jumped as a large noise came from his window. The pane shook, and he could feel his temper flare. He angrily crossed his room to the long, elegant glass.
"What on earth..." he muttered as he reached the window. He placed a slender hand on the pane to steady the tremor and looked down to see a head of green hair. "...V..." he thought, and felt his anger partially diffuse. V, his childhood friend stood outside of his window with rocks in hand and an expectant look on his face. When he saw that he'd gotten the attention of the brown haired boy, he gave a sheepish grin.
"JUMIN!" He yelled and the young master's eyes shot open wide.
"JUMIN! OPEN THE WINDOW!"
Jumin had already responded before he finished. He twisted the brushed gold lock until the tall window pushed out into the cool, night air.
"V!" Jumin hissed. "You're going to wake up the whole neighborhood!"
The green haired boy looked up at him quizzically. "...Jumin, it's 7:30. No one is asleep." Jumin just glared down at his friend.
"What do you want? I'm studying," Jumin said. And peered into the early evening darkness. It looked like V was holding a flyer. V waved the flyer excitedly, so Jumin could both hear, and see the thin paper flutter in the air. Jumin mentally groaned. "Yes, that is a flyer..." Jumin thought.
"What is it?" Jumin probed again. Only, he knew exactly what it was. Three weeks ago V had shown him that exact flyer, promoting the annual street fest a few blocks down. When V had asked him about it then, his response had been silence, which he thought that V had understood. Studying was his main priority right now, and even if it wasn't, he wasn't interested in some crowded festival.
"Come with me!" V said, and smiled up at him. Jumin groaned. "No." He replied bluntly, then motioned to his desk. "I'm studying for midterms, and you should be too."
V looked up at him, unfazed. As if on cue, the clatter of breaking china started up again. With the window open, the sound carried all the way down to the green haired boy who raised an eyebrow. The next crash that came was so large that it shook Jumin's table and sent his pen rolling to the floor. V looked at him expectantly.
"Fine," said Jumin.
He grabbed his fallen pen and tucked it into his pocket before heading down the long winding staircase. He quietly slipped passed the kitchen. Not that he needed to, he thought, as the tinkling of breaking glassware rang in his ears. At last he reached the door and almost walked square into an excited V.
"You came down!" Said V, and Jumin felt a twinge of guilt as he saw his friend's eyes shine with happiness.
"I should really be nicer to him..." Jumin thought, but quickly brushed the feeling aside.
"Why do you want to go to this thing?" He questioned the green haired boy.
V looked over at Jumin, as if assessing him. "I just figured...we both needed a change of pace." V concluded.
Jumin opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it. Something in the tone of his friend's voice made Jumin feel like V needed a night or if the house as much as he did.
"Fine." Jumin said, and nodded his head. "Where is this thing?"
V flashed a brilliant smile. "It's just three blocks down! It's on Main Street!" He looked at Jumin to gauge his reaction before continuing. "They've blocked the whole street off for the night. There's supposed to be vendors, and a show, and fireworks!" V rattled off excitedly until Jumin held up a hand to stop him.
"I get it," he breathed. "I get it, V."
At that, V grabbed hold of Jumin's arm and took off running, giving the boy no choice but to follow.
"V!" Jumin yelled, but his friend was too excited to listen. The two teenagers stumbled down the cement streets until they came across people. Jumin's eyes widened. The festival was definitely a success based on the turnout. The crowd was immense, and he could feel his skin begin to crawl. He did not want to be here. He looked over at V, who was absorbing the excitement of the crowd. It had always amazed Jumin how good V was with handling people. It was a real talent. Sure, he could put on his best business smile and play everyone's game, but it exhausted him. V thrived in it. That was a trait that Jumin wished he possessed.
Jumin shifted uncomfortably in V's grip, causing the boy to finally look over.
"Oh!" V said, as he finally released Jumin's arm. "I'm so sorry Jumin!" He said, and a slight flush crept onto his cheeks. "I just...I just got really excited." He finished and averted his eyes.
Jumin stifled a laugh. Though V was great with people, he had a one track mind. Usually, people would find themselves swept away at his pace. Tonight was no exception.
"It's fine, V," said Jumin. He was slowly adjusting to the crowd. "So what did you want to do here-"
"MAMA!" A loud cry from nearby stopped Jumin mid-sentence. It didn't take long to identify the location of the noise. To his immediate left there was a small girl, no older than four, crouched on the sidewalk. Before he could react, V was already there. The green haired boy had scooped up the girl in his arms, and walked quickly over to Jumin.
"Jumin, I'm sorry, I'll be right back." V said, and stared straight into Jumin's eyes. Jumin felt a shiver course through him. "How can one person possess such boundless confidence?" He thought, and watched his friend dart off to find the girl's mother. When he was done being impressed, Jumin felt a wave of exhaustion pass over him. He did not like crowds. He did not want to be in a crowd. Especially tonight when he was already tired from being around his family. He looked around uncomfortably and felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. His pride would not let him admit that he felt out of place EVER, but right now he was feeling uncomfortable without his pushy, green haired best friend.
Jumin sighed and tried to regain his composure. The crowd pushed against him, trying to get a glimpse of the actors on stage. It looked like some kids show was just ending. There was a gigantic fox mascot, a dog, and in the center was a white cat who seemed to be stealing the show. The performer landed a backflip, taking out what Jumin assumed was the show's villain, and the crowd erupted into roars of applause. "Wonderful," Jumin thought, and covered his ears as he attempted to squeeze his way out of the heart of the crowd. Finally he spotted a bench, and collapsed into it.
Once he was sure that no one he knew was immediately around him, Jumin rested with his head in his hands. He hated this. He hated all of this. He hated that his father only paid attention to his flaky girlfriends. He hated that there was no quiet place in their gigantic house to study. He hated that he couldn't seem to grasp his life in his hands anymore. Everything was loud. Everywhere was crowded. Everything was-
"Hey, is this seat taken?"
Jumin's head shot up out of his hands as he looked up to face none other than the performer in the white cat costume from the stage. Jumin stared into the cat head. "This is weird," Jumin thought. The performer, oblivious to Jumin's discomfort, sat down next to him, and Jumin audibly groaned.
The cat looked at him, with large, unblinking, blue eyes. "Hey, you ok?"
Jumin stared straight back. He could feel his frustration starting to creep through the cracks in his calm facade. "Who does this cat think he is?" Jumin thought, and felt his cheeks begin to heat up. He was already having a mental argument with the stranger in front of him before he even opened his mouth. Anger pierced his eyes like venom, and to his horror he could feel the pinprick sensation of tears starting in the corners of his eyes. Of course he wasn't ok! He hadn't been ok for a long time. But what did this stranger care? What did anyone care?
Jumin was shaken from his thoughts when he felt something soft land gently on his head. It took him a second to realize it was the cat's comically large paw.
Jumin sat, for a moment, feeling the warmth seep into him. It was all too much. He felt the last bit of resolve snap within him.
"Filthy!" He said, and slapped the mascot's hand from his head.
"Who do you think you are, touching me?" Jumin was livid. It wasn't at the cat, or the crowd, but at his seemingly endless situation. He was tired of being a child under his father's care. One day, he would be able to stand on his own two feet. But when? And how? It seemed like there were too many routes leading to failure, and the fact that he was alone in the growing crowd, being comforted by a children's performer weighed on him in the worst way.
The cat stared back at him. It's blue, unblinking eyes reflected Jumin's anger. The performer reached out his paw again, but this time he removed the glove, and placed a pale, elegant hand on Jumin's face.
Jumin froze.
The performer stared at him and began to talk in a soft, silky tone through the cat mask. "Don't be blue, my darling," he said.
Jumin instantly unfroze, as the shock from the touch and the performer's unsettling words sent a wave of adrenaline rushing through him. His mind raced. He was alone, with a very strange, and very masked person. Adrenaline changed his fear to fury, and he could feel his pulse echo in his ears. He leapt up from the seat and grasped his cheek with his hand as if burnt and glared down at the performer.
"Disgusting," he spat, and began to turn on his heel. To his surprise, he felt someone grab his arm for the second time that night. Only this time, it was a tall man in a catsuit, and not V.
The performer had shot to his feet and jostled the cat head so that some of his hair came loose from underneath. It was a beautiful pearly shade of silver that glimmered in the moonlight.
"Ah, no! I'm sorry, that's not how I wanted to start out." The cat stuttered. "It's just, I'm so used to comforting beautiful ladies!"
Jumin raised an eyebrow.
"That's not to say that you're not beautiful as well, I mean, you've got the whole handsome and troubled thing working for you!" The cat stopped again. It was impossible to read his facial expression, but his body language was becoming more and more troubled. Jumin looked down at his arm, which the performer had still not released. If nothing else, this guy was freakishly strong.
"Though I hate to admit it, you could probably compete with my lovely face...hmm...I'm not sure if I like that." As the performer stumbled over his words, Jumin felt his anger wane. The strange man's voice was oddly melodic in a comforting way, and Jumin let himself sink into it. He could feel his frustrations growing smaller, and smaller until they were nothing more than a faint, lingering annoyance. "This whole situation is so stupid..." Jumin thought, as he stared back into the cat's face. The man behind the mask was still talking.
"I actually think that you're more like a cat than I am! I'm more of a dog person, or well, I'm actually allergic to cats. Kinda funny that I'm performing as one!"
Taking advantage of the brief lull in the one sided conversation, Jumin glanced down at his arm, which was still being held captive.
"Arm." Jumin commanded.
"What?" Said the man in the cat mask.
"My arm. Release it." Jumin said sternly, but there was no real anger behind his words. This guy had tired him out. Now he was just tired.
"Oh!" Said the cat, and released Jumin's arm. "I'm sorry, it's just..."
Jumin's eyes narrowed at the cat. "What?" He questioned.
"It looked like you were having a tough time, and-" He stopped and held up a hand as Jumin began to interject.
"It's just, you remind me of someone. No, that's not right..." the cat stuttered, before starting again.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've been there. It can feel really hard to move forward when you're discouraged, but sometimes it's not too bad to rely on someone by your side...I guess." The cat trailed off, as if trying to assess Jumin's response. To his relief, the brown haired boy seemed to be staring at him with what he hoped was fascination.
When he could tell that Jumin wasn't going to interrupt he continued.
"It's natural to put effort into something you like," he stated confidently.
"That's why I'm dressed as a cat today, even though the thought makes me itchy!"
Jumin snorted, and then cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it up.
The cat reached out his hand. "It was nice to meet you today. Keep your eye out for me, because I'm going to be a big star!"
Jumin felt himself smile. Somehow the cat's pep talk had made some of his confidence return. Maybe it was the absolute ridiculousness of the situation, but he appreciated the performer's strength. It felt refreshing, like he could finally breath after a long time. He grasped the performer's hand in his own, and then turned it over. Jumin pulled out the pen that he had stored in his pocket earlier and opened the cap with his teeth. With a swift motion he wrote down V's number. "...He probably has more contacts in the entertainment industry than I do," Jumin thought as he finished writing and recapped the pen.
"If you ever need help, call this number." Jumin said and stared into the cat's glassy, blue eyes. Jumin felt his face flush as he realized that he was staring down an unblinking mascot head.
"Can't you take that thing off?" Jumin asked.
Before the performer could reply, the festival speakers kicked on.
"CALLING ALL PERFORMERS-BACK-TO THE MAIN STAGE."
The cat looked at Jumin and gave his hand a quick squeeze.
"Thanks!" He said, and looked at the number.
"PERFORMERS-"
"That's my cue!" He said and tucked the few wisps of hair back in the mask. "Have a good night!" He said, and dashed away to the stage without glancing back.
Jumin watched the white cat run off, slightly amused, slightly dumbfounded. He had actually had fun tonight, despite himself.
"JUMIN!"
Jumin turned to see a flustered looking V running up to him. His green hair was unfashionably windswept, and it he was carrying a stuffed fox, an extra large lollipop, and three programs.
"I'm so sorry Jumin!" V said through gasps. "I found her mother but then I couldn't get away." V looked apologetically at Jumin, but Jumin was focused on the program in V's hands.
"Let me see that." He said, and plucked one of them from V. He thumbed through the pages until he came across the performers.
The list wasn't long, and soon he found what he was searching for.
A picture of the white cat with a name next to it. Jumin's eyes widened. "A girl?" He said out loud, not caring to explain himself to V.
Jumin's mind raced. That made no sense. The performer who he met was definitely a man, but the person listed was definitely a woman. Before he could contemplate too long, a small white slip of paper slid out from the program.
"What's that?" Said V, growing more and more curious by his friend's actions. Jumin read the page and a small grin crept onto his face.
"It's an understudy slip. 'Tonight's performance of The White Cat Elizabeth will be played by H.R.'" Jumin folded and pocketed the slip.
"I'm not sure about 'H.R.' but Elizabeth has a nice ring to it. What do you think, V?" Jumin said and clapped the green haired boy on the back.
V looked at his friend, who was grinning and smiled back, draping an arm around his shoulders. "If you like it, so do I!" He said, and the pair walked back home in the crisp, serene night.