JE Fic: "JEnchanted" (Yamapi/Jin)

[hermiones]

Title: JEnchanted
Pairing: Yamapi/Ryo, Yamapi/Jin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Pin parody of the Disney film Enchanted, which I adore. Thank you again to peacock, my fabulous beta-reader, who stopped me from writing Shige looking at plagues on a wall!
Warnings: Some rude language.





Tokyo, 2008. Dress rehearsal for Summary 2008.


In the dressing room, Yamapi slowly sits down and looks at himself in the mirror. Behind him, the band is mucking around: Koyama is holding something high above Shige's head, and Tego is laughing at them both. Massu is watching with a smile on his face. Yamapi's glad that they're all in good spirits.

“We need you guys now,” the stagehand says, poking her head around the door.

“Okay,” Yamapi says, smiling at her. When she leaves, he turns around and looks at his bandmates. “Come on, guys,” he says. “Let's take some of this energy onstage.”

As they make their way out towards the stage, Yamapi cranes his neck around the auditorium.

“Shige,” he hisses. “Where's Ryo?”

“Late,” Shige says. “Again.”

“Damnit,” Yamapi says. “We should try and stall it. Koyama, do something original.”

Koyama turns around, his eyes wide. “Like what?” he says. “I'm not a pony. I don't do tricks on-”

With a yell of surprise, Tego trips over a prop-vine that snakes across the stage. He falls flat on his face and grabs his ankle, rolling about. As the crew rush to his side, he winks sidelong as Yamapi.

“The kid's good,” Koyama says.

“Really good,” Yamapi echoes.

Just as Tego's getting back on his feet with a delicate hobble, Ryo rushes in through the side entrance. He's in costume but his hair is all over the place and he's breathing hard.

“You're late,” Shige says.

“Calm down,” Ryo says, pushing past him. “I'm here now. Pi knows why I was late.”

Yamapi just looks at him. “Ryo, don't even-”

And Ryo just grins.



Los Angeles, 2008. Everlasting Records.


He hasn't heard from his mother in a while, Jin thinks. He sits outside the boardroom and waits with his food trolley. There'll be a break of ten minutes whilst artist and boss deliberate over the terms of the tour, so he should e-mail her now, get it over with.

The guilt still weighs on his shoulders, five months after he left Japan. His mother never understood why he wanted to leave. So much potential, she said. So much potential, squandered. Fancy a boy with a good education serving coffee and snacks to some music industry fat-cat. Jin likes the work. It's monotonous and dull, but he needs monotonous and dull right now.

Hi mum, he writes, deletes it, rewrites it.

“Shit,” he says, sliding his 'phone closed.

The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look and he smiles. Her name is Anna, he has to keep reminding himself. Something in his gut shifts: it's been a while since he had any meaningful human contact. His last girlfriend finished with him a month ago, found somebody else – it shouldn't still hurt as much as it does. He misses the sex in the middle of the night. He'd cope with all of the raw rejected feeling better if he didn't miss the sex so much.

“You should go in,” Anna says, and he blinks.

“They sound like they're finishing early,” she says. “Go on.”

Quietly, he pushes the trolley around the door.

“Ah,” the boss says. “Just in time.”

“Well, we were about to-” the manager doesn't look pleased. Jin recognises a poor resolution when he sees one.

“Come on,” the boss says. “Have another cup of coffee. Let's talk about this.”

Jin obediently doles out the coffee. He sneaks a look at the artist herself: her name is Kim. Kim something. She's tiny, very blonde, very thin. There's a determined look on her face, but Jin wonders whether she's just hungry. He nods to his boss, and leaves the room. As he does, he notes that Anna is looking at him. Her eyes dart upwards and then downwards quickly, and she nods. She's on the 'phone.

“The boss says you can go,” she says, hanging up. “You did a good job.”

“Oh,” Jin says. He feels faintly disappointed. “Okay. Have a good afternoon, then.”

“We could-” she says, but he's already gone.



Tokyo


Ryo stands behind Yamapi in the wings. They're watching Koyama and Shige perform their duet, matching dance routine and all. Ryo's hands snake around Yamapi's waist and Yamapi leans into it, unconsciously.

“Ryo,” he says. “We shouldn't-”

“Nobody's watching,” Ryo says. “Fuck, I missed you this morning. You've showered.”

“Of course I did,” Yamapi says. “Didn't you?”

“You don't smell like me anymore,” Ryo goes on, burying his nose in the back of Yamapi's neck, making Yamapi shiver. “I miss that-”

“Ryo,” Yamapi says. “You're going to get us into trouble.”

“Shut up,” Ryo replies cheerfully. “Fuck, I could do you right-”

“Ryo!” Yamapi says, turning around and clobbering him on the shoulder. There's a sudden note of silence and then, realisation. “Oh, fuck, it's my cue-”

He strides out onto the stage a second too late, earning him a frown from the director. Wincing, he's careful not to fall on any of the vines that swarm the stage – another one of Johnny Kitagawa's fabulous set ideas – and walks over to the well in the centre of the stage.

“If you look into the well,” Koyama intones. “And make a wish, it will definitely come true!”

Obediently, Yamapi leans over the prop-well and stares down into it. It's a dark tunnel and somewhere below he can see stage-hands milling about. He isn't sure what the plot of Summary is supposed to be this time – when has NEWS ever? -- but he's determined to play his role to perfection.

“Oh,” he says. “All of my wishes have come true already! I don't need to make any more, so I'll be going-”

“Sure you do,” Koyama says, with a swish of his robe. The costumes are as gaudy as ever this year. “Think deeply, look into your heart – there must be something you're lacking...”

Yamapi looks up, into the wings, where Ryo is leaning against the set. He raises an eyebrow and for such a small gesture, it's achingly hot. Yamapi thinks that he'd like to go home and have a great deal of very satisfying sex. Leaning over, he loses his footing, and with a yell he finds himself falling down into the well.



It seems to take an age for him to hit solid ground. When he does, his head feels as though it's been bumped. He sits upright and takes in his surroundings. Above his head through the dim light, he can see the faint shape of a star. Feeling that he must be concussed, he reaches out and pushes it gently.

“Ryo?” he says. “This isn't funny, Ryo.”

Nothing happens. Sighing, Yamapi stretches and pushes the star-shape a little harder. This time, it moves. There's a sudden stream of sunlight, so bright that it hurts his eyes. When they grow used to the sudden luminance, he peers upwards. There's sky, and tall buildings – nothing he recognises. Timidly, he stands up and pokes his head through the star-shaped hole in the pavement. His jaw drops.

People make strange noises as they shuffle past his face. Shopping bags crash into the back of his head. The sun is even brighter, as if it's shining down upon his head like a spotlight. Turning around and around, Yamapi recognises this place. He's seen it on television before. Hollywood Boulevard. Boulevard of broken dreams, or something, wasn't that how the song went?

All of his dreams are intact! Or, they were. Before this. Thinking that it must be some sort of practical joke, Yamapi hops up onto the pavement and searches for the hidden camera crew. Beneath him, James Dean falls back into place.

“Well,” he says to himself. “Johnny's outdone himself on sets this year, that's for sure.”



Los Angeles


Despondent, Jin hits the clubs in the evening. The guilt is still there, and the vague sense of feeling horny and tired and rejected. A little bit of validation is in order, he thinks, but even the clubs aren't all that alive on a weeknight. For a while, he chats to a girl at the bar, until the English gets a little bit too complicated and they part.

Just after midnight, he decides to walk home. It's raining lightly and it'll clear his head, he hopes. The streets are nearly deserted and only the odd passing car interrupts his thought. Jin can't pinpoint exactly where his life went wrong. One moment, he was studying at Tokyo University, ready to move onto the next stage in his life. The next moment, he was just...nowhere.

It all just got too much. Jin doesn't know how it happened, or even where the breaking point was – it was an otherwise ordinary day when he realised that he just couldn't take it anymore. Everything in his life had been leading up to this. All those years of education behind him, stacked up like dominoes. It started out with panic attacks, he remembers that much. Not eating, not sleeping. Eventually, he just couldn't get up in the morning.

So he threw it all in a month from graduation and moved to LA. His mother was distraught, his father furious. His brother misses him terribly, or so his parents tell him. They also tell him to stop being so selfish, but he doesn't know how to apply that to his life: he's sure that if he went back to what he had before, he'd die inside. He can't go back. It's not selfish, it's self-preservation.

Jin isn't sure that LA is making him happy, either. It just feels like a stop-gap, a pause. A temporary shift in time. He's lost sight of where happiness is. The rain is getting heavy, which seems apt – Jin looks up at the street signs and tries to work out how far he is from home. Only a few blocks. He shakes his hood out and wraps it over his head, walking a little bit faster.

En route, he passes nobody other than a single homeless guy. A single, lost homeless guy, by the looks of it – only homeless people don't have homes to lose. Jin stares at him for a moment, before he moves on.



“Hey,” Yamapi says, cringing at how weak his voice sounds. “Hey!”

He's spent the best part of three hours wandering the streets, without a hidden camera in sight. If this is a practical joke or a segment of the concert, Yamapi doesn't think the fans will enjoy it. Ryo isn't here, Tokyo doesn't seem to be here, and to top it all off Yamapi is wet, cold and hungry.

The strange man turns to him and gives him a funny look, which is a bit rich because just a second ago he was outright staring. When he turns, he has a hood up, he's tall, he's intimidating – Yamapi wonders if he's made a mistake. This man could be a gangster, Ryo's always talking about the gangsters in America.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I'm...lost,” he finishes, lamely. It occurs to him that he's assuming the stranger's Asian features to be Japanese. Fuck, he'll be lucky to get out of this alive.

“Oh,” the stranger says, in uneasy Japanese. “Right. Where do you need to be?”

“I...” Yamapi thinks about this. “I don't know. I really should be in Tokyo, but-”

The stranger gives him another funny look, a different one, a concerned one. Yamapi wonders which one of them he's concerned for, exactly.

“Tokyo?” the stranger says. “Come on. Stop wasting my time, it's pouring.”

“I'm not,” Yamapi says. “That's where I was last. And now I'm here.”

The stranger pulls his hood up further and shivers. “Do you have amnesia or something? Most of the homeless guys around here have some kind of...you know, in the head – why not ask one of them? I can't help you.”

“I'm not homeless!” Yamapi retorts. “I live in a very nice apartment!”

“For fuck's sake,” the stranger says, digging into his pocket. “Here, have ten bucks. Go get something to eat.”

“But,” Yamapi says. All he's wearing is a robe, sodden in the wet street puddles below. It clings to his chest and his arms, and the skin that's exposed is goose pimpled.

“But what?” the stranger says, folding his arms. “You can get a pizza or something. There are hostels around here for homeless people, they'll help you. LA is full of them. There's nothing I can do for you.”

Yamapi takes the note and looks at it. He has no pocket to put it into so he tucks it into his robe. Then he looks up, looks at the stranger who for some reason seems compelled to stay.

“I just,” he says. “Have you ever woken up in a place you're not supposed to be, with no idea how you got there?”

The stranger frowns, and slowly, slowly, begins to nod. “Fucking hell,” he says, eventually. “Look, come with me and dry off. I'll give you some food and then call you a cab, alright?”

“Alright,” Yamapi says. “Thanks very much.”

“No problem,” the stranger says. “Akanishi Jin.”

“Yamashita Tomohisa,” Yamapi says. “My friends call me Yamapi.”

“Why?”

“I like wearing pink.”

“Oh,” Jin says. “One of those.”

“What? No! Not one of. Wait. One of what?”

“Well, you know,” Jin says. “You like m-”

“No!” Yamapi says. “No! It's part of my job.”

“I don't want to know,” Jin says. “I just don't want to know.”



When they get back to Jin's apartment, Yamapi feels shocked at the size of it.

“Wow,” he says. “You must be really rich.”

Jin's apartment is much bigger than Yamapi's, with long windows, lush curtains and lots of beanbags. Yamapi drops down into one, happy and comfortable.

Jin snorts. “No,” he says. “You just get more for your cash here.”

“Oh,” Yamapi says. “Yeah. Your apartment's bigger than mine. What do you do here?”

“I work at a record label,” Jin says. “I do mindless tasks and stuff. Nothing much.”

“Oh,” Yamapi says. He thinks about the people running around in Johnny's offices and feels a small pang of nostalgia. He has no idea what time it is in Japan, or how much time has passed since he arrived here. Everyone will be worried.

“This isn't a hidden camera show, is it,” Yamapi says, sadly.

“A what?” Jin says, drying off his hair with a towel. He's only wearing a vest, and Yamapi eyes the line of his shoulders with some appreciation. Ryo would like those shoulders.

“A hidden camera show,” Yamapi says. “I'm really in LA, aren't I?”

“Yeah,” Jin says. “This really is LA.”

“It just doesn't seem real,” Yamapi says. “One minute, I was-”

“Yeah, well,” Jin says. “We all come here when whatever we've got back home falls apart. I'm no stranger to that. LA is...good, I think. It's a good place. I don't worry so much here. You'll get used to it.”

“I don't want to get used to it,” Yamapi says. “I want to be back at home.”

“Then take a flight back,” Jin says. “Fuck, I don't know. Look, do you want to get out of those clothes? You're soaking. I'll give you some of mine; we're not that different-”

When he returns with some pyjamas, Yamapi is half-asleep. He shuffles into them without modesty, finding that Jin's shoulders and hips are wider than his, so the fabric runs off him like water. He's cosy and warm all the same.

“I'm going to rest,” he says, lying down in the beanbag.

“I do have a spare room,” Jin says. “If you-”

But Yamapi is asleep before he can finish the sentence.

“Nutcase,” Jin says. “Fucking...nutcase.”



He turns on the television after two or three beers and a takeout and flicks around until he finds something half-decent. Some melodramatic medical drama is on and everybody is infected with Terminal Angst Disease, so disgusted, he puts on the news instead.

“At approximately 4 this afternoon,” the news-reporter says. “Visitors on Hollywood Boulevard saw a strange man put on a very unusual show! The unidentified person rose up from underneath one of the stars in a bizarre costume! Tourist operators are denying claims that this was part of a stage show designed to boost the industry, and further sightings have been few and far between. If you've seen this man or have any information, please contact us on-”

Jin stares the television, dumb-founded. He's housing an insane person in his apartment. That's it: Yamapi has to go. He turns to the beanbag where Yamapi is quietly snoring, determined to wake him up and throw him out, but.

There's a part of him that's so curious, so achingly curious about where he's come from, whether his story is really true, that he just can't do it. With a heavy sigh, he switches off the television and heads to bed.



Tokyo


A day passes and Yamapi is nowhere to be seen. Ryo is furious, absolutely furious, but then again it's not like Yamapi to miss rehearsals. Nobody seems to have heard from him at all, and so when NEWS group together the following day, they do so with the intention of tracking Yamapi down. Before rehearsals start, they take it in turns to drop down into the prop-well, in the hope of finding out where Yamapi could have gone.

One at a time, they all fall onto the ground beneath the stage. The stage-hands give them strange looks as they sit in a heap, calling up to Ryo to tell him that there's nothing suspicious at all, and furthermore, no Yamapi. Ryo leans against the well and thinks. While he thinks, he twirls his sleeves in thought. He's starting to like this costume. The looseness of the fabric was ideal for Yamapi getting a hand into-

He misses Yamapi a lot.

Staring down into the well, he can see Massu and Tego and Koyama, who is rubbing his elbow and grumbling. Shige is sitting some way off, looking around in all the nooks and crevices, trying to see anywhere that Yamapi could have gone. Suddenly, he exclaims. When Ryo yells down, he climbs out and around and back onto the stage.

“He wasn't there,” he says, excitedly. “But look, here's his necklace.”

Dangling from Shige's hand is Yamapi's golden necklace. The letters and star-shapes gleam in the dim overhead light. Ryo takes it in his hand.

“He must be down there somewhere,” he muses.

“Yeah,” Shige says. “But there's nowhere he could be. Maybe he went somewhere else. He could be at home for all we know-”

“It's got to be to do with the well,” Ryo goes on. “If he were at home he would have contacted me. We were going to go out yesterday evening. No, it's not that. He stood me up, it must be serious.”

Shige rolls his eyes. Before he can stop Ryo, Ryo's climbing over the side of the well.

“Is that a good idea?” he says, as Ryo lowers himself down.

“Definitely,” Ryo says, cheerfully, and lets go. There's no sound for some time, so Shige sticks his head over the side.

“Koyama,” he says. “Where's Ryo?”

“What do you mean?” Koyama yells back. “I thought he was with you?”

Without a second thought, Shige throws himself over after Ryo.



“Ow,” Ryo says. “Shige, you're on my arm. I need it. Get off.”

“Sorry,” Shige says, pulling himself together. His head aches and he wants to sneeze, but he doesn't just in case Ryo shouts at him.

“Where are we?” Ryo says. Everything is pitch-black and quiet. It's as though they're under the stage, but there's no stage-hands and Koyama, Tego and Massu are nowhere to be seen.

“I don't know,” Shige says. He reaches around him and finds a solid surface above his head. With a little press, light floods in.

“Whoa,” Ryo says. “What the fuck?”

He puts his hand up to the light and then kneels upwards, peeking out through the gap.

“It's pavement,” he says. “Whoa, fuck, that's a foot, that's a- Shige. Push a bit harder.”

Shige does, and the whole pavement seems to move. When light strides in, Shige sees that he's just moved a star-shape in the pavement. Together, they push through the gap, through the legs that surround them.

“Where are we?” Ryo says, again. “Wait, is this-”

“Hollywood,” Shige breathes. He hops up onto the pavement and helps Ryo out, moving the star back into place. Marilyn Monroe doesn't move easily, and it takes a few seconds to get it right. When Shige straightens, Ryo is already searching the streets for Yamapi.

“Fuck,” Shige says. “Ryo, let's stick together, alright? This is a strange city and nobody knows who we are, and-”

-Ryo is accosting somebody who is dressed up as a cowboy and advertising weddings. Fantastic.

“His name,” he's saying, in thick Japanese. “Is Yamapi!”

“What?” the man is saying. “You want to marry me?”

“Um,” Shige says, in broken English. “I'm so sorry, he's...new. Come on, Ryo.”

“Fucking hell,” Ryo says, agreeing to be led off. “These people are useless.”

“Let's stick together,” Shige says. “We're more likely to find Yamapi that way, right?”

“Right,” Ryo says, but his tone is uneasy. They stand together in the middle of Hollywood and look around themselves with trepidation.

“Where are we going to start?”



Tokyo


“I'm not sure I understand-” Kame says. “I mean. How do you know they're in LA? It wasn't a planned trip-”

Johnny Kitagawa waves his hand and Kame closes his mouth. The desk feels miles wide between them. Kame supposes that it is. Still, this all seems very strange: Yamapi, Shige and Ryo have gone to LA without officially taking leave, without telling anyone. How Johnny knows is a mystery, but then Kame supposes that Johnny knows everything. That's his job.

“So, um,” he says, trying to phrase it politely as he can. “What do you need me to...”

“I want you to go to LA,” Johnny says. “And bring him back.”

“Why, um, why me?” Kame says. “I mean, there are people who are more...persuasive than me, and...K:TTUN needs me-”

“K:TTUN is on hiatus until your return,” Johnny replies, coldly. “You have authority over Yamapi. You always have. Bring him back. Until you do, your band won't release a thing.”

Kame swallows. There's enough tension in the band without this. For years they've squabbled over the name and this won't help convince anyone that Kame isn't the leader of the band.

“Okay,” he says. “I will do my best.”

“Good,” Johnny says. “You're booked on the next flight out. Here are your tickets.”

“What happens if I don't manage to bring-”

“Do not ask that question, Kazuya,” Johnny says. “You will regret it.”



Los Angeles


Jin wakes up at 7am to get ready for work. The sun is barely up yet so he doesn't expect anybody else to be. It's a surprise to find the kitchen blinds open and the smell of breakfast cooking. It's an even bigger surprise to hear a cheerful song being sung: he hasn't listened to the radio in weeks, and he doesn't recognise the song at all.

He looks around the door and Yamapi is dancing away, flipping pancakes. He blinks.

“Hi,” he says.

“Morning,” Yamapi replies. “Do you like pancakes?”

“I do,” Jin says, wandering into the room and rubbing his eyes. Feeling distinctly like the guest, he sits down at the table. Yamapi continues to sing, quite uninhibited, and Jin watches him with disbelief as he dances around the kitchen.

“You're a morning person,” he manages.

“Yep,” Yamapi says. “This is our new single!”

“Whose new single?”

“Oh,” Yamapi says. “I didn't tell you what I do for a living, did I?”

“I'm not sure I want-”

“I'm in a band,” Yamapi goes on, cheerfully turning a pancake. “In Japan. This is our new single. I think it's pretty good, don't you?”

“Er,” Jin says. “Yeah. So are you guys touring here or what?”

“No, no,” Yamapi says. “I told you: I just came here, without warning. See, there was this well-”

“A well?”

Yamapi serves up pancakes, knocking the side of Jin's head as he does. A jug of maple syrup follows, that Jin doesn't remember buying.

“Yes,” he says. “A well. And I fell down it. It was a prop well, obviously, not a real well. I was on stage at the time.”

“Right,” Jin says.

“And I'm hoping that Ryo is going to come and find me.”

“Who's Ryo?”

“Ryo is my...er. We're. Complicated.”

“So you do like men.”

“I, er, yeah, but...it's got nothing to do with the pink, alright. I like girls, too. Ryo isn't a girl, though. Anyway, he's in the band too and I think he'll come after me. I can't go back there in case he does. What if I returned and he didn't?”

“Right,” Jin says again. “What's the band called?”

“NEWS,” Yamapi says. “There are six of us. We sing pop.”

“Oh, you're a boyband.”

“Yeah.”

“Right,” Jin says, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“Don't start,” Yamapi says. “There's nothing wrong with boybands. How are the pancakes?”

“Good,” Jin says. “Good. So where are you going to go until Ryo comes?”

Yamapi looks across the table, his eyes very wide. As if cued, his t-shirt slides off his shoulder, making him look small and vulnerable.

“No,” Jin says. “You can't stay here.”

“I'll cook,” Yamapi says. “And clean. And tidy.”

Jin narrows his eyes. “Why would you want to do that? There are hostels you could go to. You don't have to do my chores.”

“I don't mind,” Yamapi says. “I sing while I do chores. It's good practice. It makes you feel happy, too, you should try it.”

“I don't think my problems can be solved as easily as that,” Jin says, putting his empty plate in the sink. “Thanks, anyway.”

“Okay, grumpy,” Yamapi says, clearing away his own plate and filling the sink with warm water. “So can I stay?”

“Oh, fine,” Jin says. “But don't make a mess. And it's only temporary.”

“That's fine,” Yamapi says. “Ryo will be here soon, I know it.”



“You don't need to come with me,” Jin says, climbing into his car. “Really. There are tons of things you can do.”

“I just want to see what a record label looks like here,” Yamapi says. “Please? I've been to a lot of Japanese ones, but-”

“Alright, alright, but don't make any noise, okay? I need this job. Just sit in the hallway and be quiet.”

“Right,” Yamapi says. When Jin turns the radio on, he turns it off again, launches into another one of NEWS' songs. It makes him feel better, the tenuous connection to what he's left behind. He likes Jin well enough: Jin is kind and considerate, if grumpy, but he's not Ryo and he's not home. Yamapi hopes that a few verses of Sayaendou will tell Ryo that he's here. That he's waiting.

“What the hell is that rubbish?” Jin says, laughing.

“It sounds better with the steel pans,” Yamapi replies petulantly.



When they get to Everlasting Records, Yamapi is excited by the sign, all silver swooshes and a little sparkle.

“What does it mean?” he says, pointing to the English.

Jin pointedly ignores him, walking through the doors and greeting Anna, whose face lights up when she sees him.

“Hi,” she says. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Jin says, a touch dismissive. “Here, can you look after him for me for a bit? He's a...friend. Well, he's an acquaintance. He's Yamapi. That's his name. Can you make sure he doesn't go anywhere?”

“Sure,” she says, nodding. “Anything for yo-”

“Thanks,” Jin says. “Oh, and he doesn't speak English. Just give him some crayons or something, I don't know.”

“Jin,” she says, looking panicked.

“I gotta go,” he says. “Boss is waiting. Look, honestly, he'll be fine, he's easily entertained.”

“What does the sign say,” Yamapi says, pointing at the large logo on the desk. It matches the one outside. “Ev...er...something?”

“Everlasting,” Anna says, catching on.

“Oh,” he says. “That sounds like the kind of record label that'd like me.”

“Well, it isn't,” Jin says. “Just stay there and don't cause trouble, okay?”

“I'm not five,” Yamapi says. “I'll be fine. Promise.”



The artist and the boss are still fighting about the terms of her tour. It's about money, as arguments always are in the music industry, and Jin doles out coffee and expensive little sushi rolls (“he's Japanese, you know,” the boss says, “ever so obedient!”). He tries not to listen to the conversation, mostly because he has his own problems to worry about.

The argument goes on for hours. The boss isn't a happy negotiator, and he drives a hard bargain. Six cups of coffee later they're no further forward, and the boss has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom. When he does, Kim and her manager see their chance to leave and, excusing themselves, they make a swift exit. There's nothing the boss can do about it.

“Stall them,” he hisses to Jin.

“What?” Jin says. “Me? I can't-”

“Just do it,” the boss says. “Or you're out of a job.”



“You know what I love about touring?” Yamapi is saying, when Jin walks into the lobby.

“I thought you couldn't speak English!” Jin splutters.

“I have many talents,” Yamapi says. “I speak a little. Anyway, it's the buzz, isn't it?”

Kim is beside him, listening to his every word. Yamapi has found some chocolate biscuits and she's eating them, one by one. “It's the buzz,” she agrees.

“The thrill of performing your own songs and hearing the audience echo them back to you. Isn't that the best feeling?”

“God, yes,” she says. “It's like you know it first-hand-”

“I just don't think that you can pass up an experience like that,” Yamapi says. “What's an extra zero on a paycheck, at the end of the day? What's a number? It's about how you feel. If you want to sing, you should sing.”

Kim looks to her manager, who looks back. She nods, slowly, at Yamapi before they both leave the lobby. Yamapi watches her and the biscuits go with a sad look on his face. The boss returns just in time to see them leave, and he turns to Jin immediately.

“Well?” he demands. “Are they coming back?”

“I think so,” Jin says, shooting a look at Yamapi.

“You think so?”

“I...no, I know so. I know so.”

“Good,” the boss says. “You can go, then. Back here at 8.30 sharp.”

“Okay,” Jin says. He's so relieved that he grabs Yamapi's collar and makes a dash for it before the boss can change his mind. He doesn't see the receptionist wave goodbye.

“Who is that?” the boss says, staring after them.

“Jin's friend,” she says. “Come over from Tokyo.”

“I wonder if he wants a job,” he says. “They're so obedient, you know.”



“What the fuck,” Jin is saying. “How did you do that?”

“What?” Yamapi says, leaning against his car. “I just talked to her.”

“You speak English!”

“A bit.”

“More than a bit!”

“Well, I picked some up at school,” Yamapi says.

“So you knew that the sign said 'Everlasting'.”

“Just making conversation,” Yamapi's smile is wry. “That girl, she likes you.”

“Who?”

“The girl at the desk there. She's nuts about you.”

Jin scowls. “Anna? She is not.”

“She is. Totally. You should ask her out.”

Jin is thoughtful for a moment, and then he screws up his face and says, “Come on. In the car.”

“Cool,” Yamapi says. “Where are we going now?”



Los Angeles


Ryo and Shige check themselves into a small motel in order to regroup. Shige hadn't been wearing his costume when he jumped into the well, and his credit card was in his jeans pocket. He's relieved; God knows what they would have done without money.

“We have to split up,” Shige says. “LA is too big. Far too big. Get your map out, we'll split up parts of the city.”

Ryo pulls the map out of his robe and looks at it miserably. “I wish he'd just taken his stupid 'phone.”

“Me too,” Shige says. “Can't be helped. Right, if you take the beach front, I'll check the homeless hostels. He won't have any money on him, so they might have seen him.”

“Okay,” Ryo says. “Keep the radio on where you can. There might be something on about him. He's pretty weird. I'd be surprised if somebody hadn't noticed him already.”

“True,” Shige says. “We'll find him, Ryo.”

“We'll find him,” Ryo echoes. “Right. Let's go.”

When they walk onto the street, they're almost run down by a passing bus. There aren't many buses in LA and Shige stops to stare. Clutching Ryo's elbow, he exclaims,

“Ryo, that's Kame!”

“What?” Ryo says. “Where?”

“On the bus, look, on the-”

Shige is waving frantically. The man who looks like Kame is peering back through the window and, some ten yards down the street, the bus pulls to a halt. Ryo gives Shige a skeptical look but follows him down, and when Kame gets off the bus his eyes go wide.

“What?” he says. “What are you doing here? Fuck, don't tell me all of K:TTUN fell down the well! You guys are hopeless!”

“What well?” Kame says. “Wait, what?”

“Doesn't matter,” Shige says, brushing Ryo off. “We've lost Yamapi. We're here to find him. Can you help?”

Kame worries on his lower lip. “I'm here to bring him back to Tokyo,” he says. “So-”

“Good,” Shige says.

“Wait,” Ryo says. “Who sent you?”

“Johnny, but-”

“You said 'him',” Ryo says. “Not 'them'.”

Kame nods, slowly. “I think you two are on your own. He's not pleased.”

Shige looks suddenly frantic. “What? We just came here to help Yamapi-”

“Look,” Ryo says. “Let's split up. We need to find Yamapi. We'll deal with Johnny later. Go your own way, Kame. Shige's got his 'cell with him. Ring us if you find him.”

“Okay,” Kame says. “Look, I'm sorry-”

“Shut up,” Ryo says. “Just, leave it. Go and find him. Alright?”



Shige casts Ryo a strange look as they go their separate ways.

“I don't trust Johnny,” Ryo says, by way of explanation.

“I don't think that Kame means-”

“Yeah, well, I don't trust him, either.”

“Don't you think you're being-”

“Shige, look. We have to find him first. Do you understand?”

“I get it,” Shige says. He knows one thing: he wishes he'd stayed in Tokyo.



Los Angeles


Jin parks the car by the beach and gets out, pulling his sunglasses down. Yamapi follows him eagerly, sucking on the straw of a strawberry slushie.

“You like walking, huh,” he says.

“Yeah,” Jin says. “Clears my head.”

“Let's roller-blade!” Yamapi says. “Look, you can hire skates-”

“I don't blade,” Jin says. “It's for kids.”

“Come on,” Yamapi says. “Live a little! You're so uptight. When did you last skate?”

“I was...” Jin thinks. “Five. Or so. I don't think I remember how to do it.”

“Let's try,” Yamapi says, pulling Jin over to the stand. They hire skates in their sizes and take some time tying the laces. Yamapi finishes his slushie and dumps it before skating around the rubbish bin, arms wide, smile wide.

“Fuck,” Jin says, watching him. “You didn't say you were good.”

Yamapi laughs and grabs Jin's hands, pulling him to his feet. “It's easy, see,” he says, as Jin begins to move his feet. They skate in a wobbly way along together and then Yamapi lets go, and despite himself, Jin finds that he's smiling.

“That's it,” Yamapi says. “Isn't this fun?”

“I don't know that fun is the right word-”

Yamapi turns and skates backwards, in zig-zags, around and around. “Life can be this fun, always. You just have to let go.”

“Alright, alright, look – how are you doing that?”

“I was taught to do it in my training,” Yamapi shrugs. “It's just practice.”

“I thought boybands only had to be good-looking,” Jin says.

“Are you serious?” Yamapi laughs. “Not the agency I'm from. You have to dance, sing, act, skate – all sorts. We're taught gymnastics, how to interview, how to host a television show. It's not just looking pretty.”

“Oh,” Jin says. He doesn't know anything about the music industry except the American way and it sounds radically different. Still, he can imagine Yamapi there. He's so bright and sunny, as though he just stepped out of a pop video. “So are you all really...this happy?”

“It's good to be positive,” Yamapi says. “The job's tough. A good attitude helps. But I'm a pretty happy person.”

“Right,” Jin says. “I don't think I'm-”

“See, negativity,” Yamapi says. “That's your problem. Take that girl who's into you – you don't pay any attention to her. And she likes you. Why don't you give it a shot?”

“Because I don't think she's my type,” Jin says.

“How do you know unless you ask?” Yamapi says. “How do you know anything unless you try?”

“Come on,” Jin scoffs. “You know a volcano wouldn't be fun to hang around in, without trying it. You don't need to try everything to know stuff.”

“Are you saying she's a volcano?”

“No,” Jin says. “Of course not, but-”

“Well, then,” Yamapi says. “We don't get many chances to have fun in life. Might as well take the ones we do have. Take her out, have a drink. Maybe she's just right for you.”

“Are you always this annoying?”

Yamapi grins. “Yep,” he says. “Ryo's always telling me to shut up.”

“What will you do if Ryo doesn't come for you?” Jin asks. It's as though a dark cloud threatens, his voice gets low just saying it.

“He'll come,” Yamapi says lightly, but his voice is firm.



Los Angeles


Kame spends the evening checking the hospitals, just in case. When that turns up nothing, he checks the record labels. There's just the slightest chance that Yamapi has decided on a solo career in America; stranger things have happened. He has no luck with the major labels but eventually, after three hours of searching, a smaller one named Everlasting brings up something.

“What did you say his name was?” a bored-sounding receptionist says. “That doesn't sound like an artist on our books.”

“Oh, right,” Kame says. “Thanks anyway-”

“No, I mean...Yamashita, did you say? That sounds...”

“Well,” Kame says. “He goes by the nickname Yamapi...”

“Oh!” she exclaims, and Kame bolts upright in his chair. “Yes,” she goes on. “Yes, he was here today! He's a friend of one of my colleagues. They left together around 4pm. I can't tell you anything more than that.”

“Okay,” Kame says. “You've been great. Truly. What's your colleague's name?”

“Akanishi Jin,” she says, softly. “Do you think he's involved? Is this Yamapi a criminal?”

“No,” Kame laughs. “No, he's not. He's just...Yamapi. Thanks very much, you've been very helpful.”

“No problem,” she says. “I hope you find him. It's hard to get through to people sometimes, isn't it?”

Kame looks at the 'phone strangely before hanging up.



E-mail sent to [Shige] from [Kame]:

I've found something: Yamapi was at Everlasting Records this afternoon. It's a record label. Address below. Thing is, he was with somebody, an Akanishi Jin. I think he could be a scout of some sort...



Los Angeles


“A scout,” Ryo scoffs. “Yamapi wouldn't do that to me.”

“Still,” Shige says. “That's something to go on, at least. The hostels didn't give me anything – maybe he's staying with this Jin character! This is good news, Ryo.”

“I just don't think Yamapi would do this,” Ryo says. “He loves NEWS. He loves – well. He just wouldn't do this. I know it.”

“No, I know,” Shige insists. “But this is a good avenue of exploration, isn't it?”

“If he's done this to me, I'll kill him,” Ryo snarls. “I swear.”

Shige sighs and puts his head down on the desk.



Los Angeles


Yamapi watches World's Wildest Police Chases while Jin takes a shower. He helps himself to a snack and stares at the television, totally perturbed. American television is radically different from Japanese television. There aren't many game shows, but there are lots of talk shows. Lots of people come on television to talk about their problems and are booed or cheered by a crowd, counseled by the presenter. Yamapi thinks that it's all a bit indulgent.

When Jin comes out the shower he's wearing a t-shirt that's sticking to his skin where it's wet.

“Fuck,” he says, stretching. “My knees hurt.”

Yamapi smiles. “Yeah, that's what happens when you don't exercise.”

“Shut up,” Jin says, falling down into the chair beside Yamapi. “What're you watching?”

“Police chases,” Yamapi says. “American television is so weird.”

“I know,” Jin says. “It took a long time to get used to it.”

“How long have you been in LA?” Yamapi asks.

“Five months,” Jin says.

“Why did you leave?”

Jin's face turns in a strange way and he sighs, getting comfortable. “It's a long story. The short version...I couldn't cope with university. I needed a break.”

“Oh,” Yamapi says. “I'm doing a degree myself.”

“How do you fit that in?” Jin says, his eyes wide. “With your job?”

“Good planning,” Yamapi says, with a hint of a smile. “I don't know, you just make it fit. It's hard, though. Academic pressure is the worst.”

“Yeah,” Jin says. “It just got to a point where...I just couldn't do it. My parents are furious.”

“I bet,” Yamapi says. “Do you think you'll ever go back to it?”

“I don't know,” Jin says. It's too painful a question to think about, so he changes the subject.

“Yamapi,” he says. “What will you do if Ryo doesn't turn up? I just – LA is a big city. Huge. You don't know that he's going to be-”

“He's going to be here, Jin,” Yamapi says. “I do know it.”

“You don't, Yamapi,” Jin says. “You need to make plans for what happens if – he doesn't. You'll have to take a flight back. He might be in Tokyo, still, you don't know.”

“He's here,” Yamapi says. “I don't expect you to get that, Jin, but I do. I do.”

“I just think-”

“Jin, you think too much.”

“What?”

“You over-analyze everything. You're a pessimist – you assume that everything that can go wrong, will. I don't think like that. I know that he's here. Just...drop it.”

“I'm realistic, Yamapi,” Jin says. “People don't turn up just because you want them to. They don't come back just because you hope they will. That's stupid.”

“Well, maybe not here-”

“Not anywhere! That's not how the world works.”

“The world works the way you make it work,” Yamapi says. “If you say 'no' to everything then it's no wonder you don't find the world works for you! You have to take chances, to trust! If you don't do that then you won't get anything back.”

“I'd prefer to be self-contained than delusional, thank you,” Jin says.

“Are you calling me delusional?”

“Honestly, yeah. He's not going to come. You have to make plans.”

“Fuck you,” Yamapi says. “You don't know him. You don't know me. You don't know anything about anything that isn't running away! Maybe in your world people don't face things or pursue them, but in my world, they do.”

“Fuck you,” Jin says. “You don't know me! How can you talk about my life like that? You weren't there, when it-”

“If you can't face your problems then you can't move past them,” Yamapi says. “That's all I'm saying.”

“Good,” Jin says. “Then move past your problem, because Ryo isn't going to turn up. How do you plan to face that, huh? Or does your advice only apply to other people?”

“I'm going to bed,” Yamapi says. “I just – I can't stand quitters. You're a quitter, Jin.”

They look at each other for a long moment, Yamapi searching Jin's face. Jin's face seems sunken and unsure, his mouth parting as if to say something if only he could find the words. The impact on his face is so colossal that Yamapi wishes he could undo it, but with nothing to say he just leaves Jin to it. There's a feeling in his stomach that draws him down to the ground: a heaviness that just won't leave. When he lies down in bed, it spreads all out until his heart feels full to bursting.



Los Angeles


The next day, Ryo and Shige head for Everlasting Records. It's early and when they arrive, a rather flustered looking receptionist greets them.

“God,” Ryo says, to Shige. “She's hot.”

“I thought the entire reason we're here was that-” Shige starts, indignant, but Ryo just shrugs.

“Of course it is,” he says. “But do you think I'm blind? Look at her!”

She raises her head and smiles a weary smile, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. When Ryo steps up to the desk her smile widens and her eyes seem more alert. Shige rolls his own and checks out the various plaques that adorn the walls of the office.

“Hi,” Ryo says, in his special lazy voice. “How are you? I'm hoping to track down a friend.”

“A friend?” she says, frowning. “Are they an artist on our books?”

“No,” Ryo says, with a big smile. “An employee. Akanishi Jin.”

“Oh,” she says, blushing. “Jin.”

When Ryo turns to look at Shige, Shige is smirking.

“Right,” Ryo says, smile fading. “Where would we find him?”



Jin and Yamapi don't talk in the car. Yamapi doesn't sing, which Jin finds himself missing in a strange and incomprehensible way. He almost wants to start, just to see if Yamapi would join in. The car feels bereft of music, but Jin doesn't know what to say to make things right again. A part of him is still smarting over what Yamapi said, but a bigger part is aware that Yamapi is right. A part of him feels alive now, as if he's been woken up from a long sleep – and he wants to thank Yamapi for it. Only Yamapi seems determined to look the other way.

They sit in the car once Jin pulls to a stop, until the clock says 8.29am and they have to go in.

“I'm sorry,” Jin manages, as he opens the car door. “You were right.”

“I said horrible things,” Yamapi says. “It's not like me. I'm not normally that mean. I'm sorry. You're not a quitter. You've just taken a time out.”

“No,” Jin says. “I quit. I did quit. I don't want to anymore.”

“Well,” Yamapi says. “I'm glad about that.”

They look at each other. Jin finds himself with the strangest feeling, even swallowing doesn't help. 8.31am. Shit.

“I have to go in,” Jin says.

“It's okay,” Yamapi says. “I'll come with you. You know, just in case that girl doesn't show and you're fired.”

“Oh, thanks for the encouragement,” Jin says.



When they walk into the building, Yamapi's jaw hits the floor.

“Ryo,” he exhales. Jin crashes into him and peers over his shoulder through the glass doors.

“That's Ryo?” he asks.

“Yes,” Yamapi says.

“He's short,” Jin says.

“I wasn't. So soon. I mean, I wasn't expecting-”

“Go on,” Jin says. “He's waiting.”



When Ryo sees Yamapi he rushes towards him, envelopes him in a hug.

“You bastard,” he says. “You stupid bastard. Don't do that to me again.”

“I'm sorry,” Yamapi says. “I didn't mean to. The well, the stupid-”

“I know,” Ryo says. “It's okay. It's fine, now. Everything's fine.”

“Fuck,” Jin says. “There really was a well.”

“I'm sorry,” Shige says, genuinely. “I know you work here – we'll just be on our way, Ryo, come on-”

At the worst possible moment, the boss walks out of his office.

“What the hell is going on here?” he booms. “Jin? Is this anything to do with you?”

“Yes,” Jin says. “But, er, I can explain-”

“No need to,” the boss says. “I've just had Kim on the 'phone. You remember Kim, don't you? Young, pretty successful artist I asked you to stall yesterday? She's leaving the record label for one that offers her...oh, how did she put it...more creative flexibility as a musician. I think I'd consider your efforts a great, big failure, wouldn't you?”

“Er,” Jin says. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Excellent, we're agreed,” the boss says. “You can leave now. Your services won't be required any longer.”

“That's fine,” Jin says. “I've decided that I'm going to make something of my life. Today has been a pretty good first step, so thank you.”

“Oh,” the boss says. “Well.”

“Yes,” Jin says. “Thing is, we're not all that obedient, after all.”

“I see,” the boss says. “I'd like you to leave now.”

For somebody not very obedient after all, Jin leaves pretty quickly. He doesn't want to push his luck. Beside him, Shige is trembling. The four of them stand outside the building and regroup.

“Who is this guy?” Ryo says. “Apart from Mr. Fired?”

“I've been looking after Yamapi,” Jin says. “I thought he was homeless. Or mad.”

“He is mad,” Shige says.

“I am not,” Yamapi says.

“Yeah, you are,” Jin says. They exchange a look that Ryo catches, just. He frowns.

“Well,” he says. “We'll be going, then. Thanks for all your help. It's appreciated.”

“It was no problem,” Jin says. “Really.”

With Yamapi standing before him, it's impossible to know what to say. Everything that Jin wants to say would be inappropriate, with Ryo standing right there. It's funny how much that clarifies things. Jin manages a wry smile.

“I'll miss your pancakes,” he says.

“Where will you go now?” Yamapi says.

“Back to Japan,” Jin says. “To finish my degree. I've had enough...quitting. I want to be proud of myself.”

“To let go,” Yamapi says.

“Yeah,” Jin says.

“It's so fucking hard, isn't it,” Yamapi says, quiet and furtive. It makes Jin laugh and want to touch him, so he does, taking him into a goodbye hug.

“Look me up,” Yamapi says. “When you're back in Tokyo.”

“I will,” Jin says. “I'm glad I took you home that night.”

“Me too,” Yamapi says. “I wish-”

“I know.”

When they break apart, Yamapi's face is wretched. He's been able to hide his feelings before, but now it seems too much to bear. He pulls back and against Ryo and when Ryo leads him away it's hard not to look back, to acknowledge the separation for what it is. Shige flanks his side and Yamapi feels a strange urge to hold onto him, as if parts of him are falling away and it'll take two people to catch them all.

“Bye,” Jin says, under his breath where the breeze can't catch it.



Los Angeles


Kame is contacted later by one of Johnny's associates. He confirms that he hasn't managed to find Yamapi, but has it on authority that he, Ryo and Shige are booked onto a flight home that day. He is willing to accept any punishment that Johnny sees fit, but stresses the importance of not pushing a unit for one man's mistake. After all, it rather gives that one man too much power.

He receives a courtesy call from Johnny himself half an hour later. They are in agreement, Johnny thinks, and when Kame returns Johnny is thinking of reorganizing K:TTUN.



Los Angeles


Ryo isn't stupid. It's because he isn't stupid that he knows that something is up. Yamapi is miserable: the kind of miserable he hasn't been since he was a kid and Ryo kept stealing his Gameboy. Well, probably more miserable than that, but Yamapi was something of a geek in those days.

“You liked him,” he realises, as they ride the car to the airport. Shige is sitting in the front seat and pretending he isn't there. It's what he's been doing the entire time, Ryo realises, and he feels that it's most uncharitable of him.

“Yeah,” Yamapi says.

“I brought your passport,” Ryo says. “If you want it now. Do you want it now?”

Yamapi looks at him. “I am so sorry,” he says.

“Look,” Ryo says. “Take this.”

It's an envelope. Inside, there's money and Yamapi's passport. A tube of mints, the spearmint ones Yamapi adores.

“Take it, and go,” Ryo says, and his throat is scratchy so the words don't come out right.

“Ryo-” Yamapi says.

“Yamapi,” Ryo says. “You're always being a twat about letting go and not having inhibitions and just doing shit, that's what you're always going on about. And now you fucking have a chance to do it, and I have to let you. It's not right not to let you. Just – fuck, go, before I change my mind and decide to be selfish. Go. Just – come back to Tokyo, alright? Don't leave me there alone.”

“I'm coming back,” Yamapi says. “I promise. I promise, Ryo.”

“Okay,” Ryo says, as the driver pulls over with an exasperated sigh. “Just. Don't go near any fucking wells, alright?”

“I love you,” Yamapi says, drawing Ryo close. “You are the greatest person.”

“Oh, go away,” Ryo says. “I know I am.”



Los Angeles


Jin spends the afternoon placing his apartment on the market. Unsurprisingly, he has viewings almost immediately and showing people around helps him to keep his mind off Yamapi. Despite everything, the future feels bright and he clings to that because it's the one positive thing he has left. The determination to find a dream and follow it, it gives him the power to push away the ache in his stomach.

It gets harder as the evening draws on, as the day gets darker and the apartment emptier. Jin makes a meal for himself out of the leftovers in the cupboard, toasts to himself, switches on the television. The news no longer talks about Yamapi. It talks about things that now seem dull and real: the stock exchange, politics, the upcoming election. Nothing about magical wells and stars shooting up from the pavement. Nothing that's bright and cheery. Nothing that fills a room with singing.

“Fuck,” Jin says. He digs out his 'phone from his pocket and dials a number. Chances are it's two in the morning in Japan, but it'll be worth it. It'll definitely be worth it.

“Mum,” he says, when his mother answers. “It's me, Jin. I'm coming home.”



Yamapi stands on the street outside the apartment and watches the pattern of the light within it. When the light is dim, that's Jin in the kitchen. He's probably serving up his takeout. When the light gets brighter, that's him moving into the living area. He's probably watching television, something trashy, no doubt. Yamapi stands for what seems like an eternity, unable to move. Around him, the street crackles with life. Overheard, rain comes down like it will forever. It doesn't bother him in the least.

When Jin comes out onto his balcony, he's on the 'phone. His face is peaceful, serene, animated – his mouth curls into a laugh. One hand shakes as he reaches for the balcony but once it takes hold, it's steady again. And then Jin looks down and his face freezes. And Yamapi looks back, and suddenly he feels the rain.



“Mum,” Jin says. “I have to go now, okay, but I'll be home soon. I'll let you know when, okay? It's going to be alright now. I promise.”

They say their goodbyes and when he hears the click, Jin tosses the 'phone onto the sofa. He tackles the stairs in groups of three and still they seem endless. When he pushes open the door to the outside, he's hit by the force of rain, but it's nothing compared to the sight of Yamapi right in front of him.

“Don't tell me,” he says. “You fell into another well.”

“No,” Yamapi says, coming closer. “But I fell into something, right enough.”

They stand together in the pouring rain as if they're both in disbelief. And they come together, feet by knees by hips by chests, and they kiss as if to prove to each other that it's real.



Epilogue


Kame waits and waits for Johnny's announcement about the re-structuring of K:TTUN, but it doesn't come. In the meantime, he and Yamapi hang out and things are so much easier since Kame stopped worrying about whether he's being a good enough idol. Since he started worrying about being a good friend and having more fun, Johnny doesn't bother him much anymore. He and Yamapi go to karaoke and bowling, fishing too sometimes, and they have little moments where they feel like children again. It's perfect.

After a while, Yamapi introduces Kame to Jin. Kame is used to Yamapi's shifting affections so he doesn't think much of it to begin with. He likes Jin well enough; he's kind of rude and kind of grouchy, but his heart's in the right place. What he doesn't realise that is that Johnny has his eye on Jin, too. And Yamapi, well. Yamapi's always encouraged people to make the best of their lives. When Johnny asks Jin to audition, Jin looks to Yamapi and Kame and scoffs,

“I don't think I'm boyband material.”

Kame doesn't feel it's his place to comment, and Yamapi is far too biased to see the bigger picture. Jin's about to pass up the opportunity and take up his degree again when Ryo pulls him aside. Jin's always been nervous about Ryo, ever since Los Angeles. Yamapi won't tell him about their discussion, and Jin's convinced that Ryo secretly wants to kill him.

“Do you think I'm boyband material?” Ryo says.

Jin wonders whether it's a trick question.

“You don't...strike me that way.”

“Well,” Ryo says. “It takes all types. If you want it, fucking go for it.”

“Right,” Jin says. “So you don't want to kill me?”

“Why would I want to kill you?” Ryo says. “I think you're alright.”

“Thanks,” Jin says. “It means a lot to have the approval of Yamapi's friends, and obviously I thought things would be tense because-”

“I mean, you're far too old and way too fat for JE, but we can change one of those things, can't we? One out of two isn't that bad.”