Page 12 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 1-4 (The Residency Boys #6)

Mi Hi picked up a newsboy cap in black to match his skirt with purple and silver accents. It looked like the kind of accessory girls often wore pushed back on their hair. In her other hand, she held up a wig of long black hair. “Ready for the final part?”

“Yes.” Jun dropped back down onto the stool, remembering this time to keep his legs together.

The hat and temporary wig combination was genius. Mi Hi had gone all out and gotten the highest quality hair she could on short notice. With the hat covering the top, no one would be able to tell that it was less than a professional wig from close up.

Mi Hi raided her supplies for a curling iron and added waves to the bottom of Jun’s new tresses. She settled the hat on top and gestured for Jun to look up at her.

“I just did that , and I don’t recognize you.”

Jun blushed and dropped his eyes.

Mi Hi giggled. “You make a gorgeous girl.”

“Uh…thanks?”

“No, thank you. Who else has ever gotten to turn a gorgeous K-pop star into a girl inside her own apartment? It’s like playing dolls in the best way.”

She checked the time. “Let’s practice walking in the hallway for a few minutes before we head out.”

Jun rose slowly, keeping his knees together.

“Damn, you make that look easy.”

“I’m a dancer?” Jun blushed again. Seriously, they’d been over this before. He was trained .

“It’s fine, fine, really. Just jealous.”

BoBo meowed from his nest on top of Jun’s discarded clothes. Jun leaned over to pet him.

“Bend your knees and kneel a little. You’re showing the world everything.”

Jun bent his legs together at once. Fuck. How did girls do this all the time?

They went out to the hallway to practice walking.

Jun sorted through his memories for someone to imitate and picked one of his favorite female idols.

She had legs for days and always walked like the air was gliding around her.

Picturing her posture in his mind’s eye, he let it fall into his body the same way he would if Gigi was teaching him choreography.

Then he walked.

“Damn.”

Jun stumbled and turned back. “Is it wrong?”

“No, it’s right, just tone it down a little. We’re going across the city, not taking on Paris fashion week.”

Three turns later, Mi Hi was satisfied. “You really don’t mind?” She looked him up and down as they stepped back into the privacy of her apartment.

“Mind what?”

“Dressing as a girl.”

“Uh, no?” Jun shook himself. “It’s smart. And…I look good.”

Mi Hi laughed. “Most guys don’t want to look like a girl.”

Jun shrugged. “It’s clothes, just clothes. I’ve dressed in all kinds of things. I think I was a dinosaur once.”

“Yeah, but you get treated differently dressed as a girl.” Mi Hi pushed off her shoes. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll be ready to go.”

Instead of taking off the boots, Jun sat down on the step.

BoBo came over for more petting. Jun lost himself in running his hand over the cat’s back, feeling the purring under his palm.

Maybe, when this was all over, he could get a pet.

A cat or a dog, he didn’t care, just something to touch and cuddle.

Mi Hi jogged back, dressed in something much classier than what she’d worn the day before. He couldn’t tell with the classic khaki coat she had thrown on over everything, but she looked like she was wearing a full pantsuit. “Let’s go.”

“You’re really dressed up.”

“Considering the address of the hotel where we’re supposed to meet your boyfriend, believe me, this is required. I can be your auntie.”

“I’ve never had an auntie.”

“Really?” They stepped out of the apartment, and Mi Hi locked it. “Your parents are both single children or just uncles?”

“I don’t know.” Jun followed Mi Hi to the stairs. He shouldn’t say anything, but it seemed like words were just coming out of his mouth. “I only met my father once, and my mother never told me any details about her family.

“Is that why you’re so quiet about your family in public?”

“Is it quiet if there’s nothing to tell?”

“Yes, but I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

Jun fingered his mother’s jade Buddha, now hanging around his neck. He thought of saying more and stopped himself. As nice as Mi Hi was, he didn’t know how she’d react to knowing the blank truth.

Loneliness rose up in his throat. If she could, she would have come back.

They made their way to the metro line, slipping into the mid-to-late afternoon post-Christmas traffic with people of all ages out and about.

Seoul was in the throes of winter vacation, which lasted for students from mid-December to the end of January.

Most people with regular jobs were back to work, though.

Mi Hi swiped them through, and they caught the next train toward the center of the city.

Looking at the map on the wall of the train, Jun realized just how far he’d gotten the previous night.

He really had put distance between him and Bak.

People glanced toward him and Mi Hi, but mostly they paid them little mind.

There were other well-dressed people on the train.

Two women traveling together was nothing interesting.

A few guys checked Jun out, their eyes lingering on his legs and trailing up to his ass, but nothing more than that.

He gripped the overhead strap beside Mi Hi and ignored them.

They had to change trains once. The station was large, modern, and included an upscale shopping mall, meaning it had decorated extensively for Christmas and the winter solstice.

It was weird how being a performer made holidays feel out of place and doubled up.

He was always involved in winter holiday planning in July and August, even photoshoots sometimes or videos that included snow, but in winter, he’d often end up somewhere tropical, filming something that wouldn’t be released until the weather was warm in Korea.

But then he’d have to live through the season all over again with everyone else a few months later.

Walking through the station and not being shadowed was liberating.

For years, he’d barely ever seen the city without a minder.

The air felt light around him. He stared at the advertisements, coming face to face with himself displaying a fashionable suit on a wintery background as he rounded a corner.

That was a shoot he remembered. It had been six months ago, particularly early. The snow had been fake.

Mi Hi grabbed his arm and linked it with hers, dragging him onward. “Stop staring at your crush.”

Jun sputtered. “I’m not!”

Mi Hi laughed. He scuttled along at her side, off balance with how she gripped his arm. No one paid them any mind. They were just two women teasing each other.

The only time he’d been able to hang out like this had been with Yohei in his hometown in Gunma, Japan.

They’d promised to stay on the farm all day and then borrowed bicycles and run away to Takasaki, visiting the shopping malls and the train station, eating casually at a buffet restaurant on the top floor of the mall there, and then walking down the street to the ruins of Takasaki Shiro, a fortress, and sitting on the grass under the trees growing inside what had once been a fortress. No one had recognized them.

Jun’s throat ached. If only he could do this more often. He wanted to run, to fling out his arms and slip free through spaces, to be anything but what he was. To be wild.

Wild and safe.

He blinked back tears of longing. There was nothing wild about his life. He was a songbird trying to slip through the bars of his cage, and he wasn’t even free yet.

Mi Hi squeezed his hand in hers. “Come on.”

Jun lifted his head.

She smiled at him, softly. “Let’s get you to your guy.”

Would Damian be just another cage?

Would he ever be free?

They made their next train connection. Mi Hi pulled out her headphones and handed one to Jun.

He slipped it into his ear. She scrolled through her playlists and hit one titled “Me.” The opening strains of Madalen Duke’s “This is How Villains Are Made” trickled out.

He looked down at the list. BlackPink’s “Kill this Love” was a couple songs down, followed by “Labour” by Paris Paloma.

“You listen to a lot of Western artists?” He modulated his voice to a soft whisper.

Mi Hi shrugged. “Sometimes. I lived in the US for a while.” She pointed to a song farther down. “I listen to French, Chinese, Japanese, and Indian singers too.”

They rode the train quietly, listening to the music together. Jun’s blood thrilled listening to Dan Vasc’s rendition of “Son of Pain.”

“I need to listen to more of this singer.” He could totally sing like this, given the chance. Not that Bak would let him.

Mi Hi smiled. “He’s good. From Brazil but sings a lot of English songs. He did this one song in seven languages though. It was really good.”

Jun raised his eyebrows. “Seven? Does he speak all of those languages, or did he just learn the lyrics for the song?” I thought I was doing really well with four languages!

Mi Hi raised both shoulders. “Don’t know.”

Jun sighed. Now he was going to have to learn more languages. English, Korean, Japanese, and Chinese evidently wasn’t enough. Maybe he should pick up Spanish.

It doesn’t matter. You’re running away. Your career is over.

Jun’s stomach fell. It hadn’t really hit him until that moment; he wasn’t just running from being trafficked. He was also walking away from the stage and his fans. From singing and dancing and writing music.

He folded in on himself. Until now, it had been running away from something terrible, but just listening to other singers, imagining how he would sing the same lyrics, what kind of dance routine might go with the beat and the concepts, it was enough to remind him.