06
The thumping bass thrummed in Tae Hyun’s chest, a second heartbeat to match the rhythm in his veins. Even echoing in the emptiness of the Guardian Skylight Arena, the familiar beat of Boy With No Shame felt like home. His body responded on instinct–a sharp tilt of the head, hips swiveling in time with the driving beat. Daniel and Jenny mirrored his movements, shadowed by Javi, Malik, Skylar, and Ember–a dazzling wave of limbs, their glittery outfits catching the fierce stage lights. Tae Hyun wasn’t the tallest or the most muscular of the group, but every inch of him exuded a coiled energy. His precise footwork was a mesmerizing counterpart to the sinuous grace of his upper body–a blend of sharp angles and hypnotic fluidity. It should’ve been exhilarating–it was exhilarating–but the thrill was edged with a bittersweet ache. For a fleeting second, the spotlights blurred, and he saw Jason’s grin flash in an empty luxury box, just like back in Incheon–enthusiastic, genuine, entirely his.
Then, the lights flickered, and the music sputtered into silence, replaced by the irritated groans of a disappointed crew.
“What the hell?” Daniel grabbed the sweat towel tucked into his waistband and mopped his brow. “I was really into that.”
“Yeah,” Javi agreed, strolling upstage with a playful grin. “I get such a great view of your ass during the bridge.”
Tae Hyun chuckled, rolling his eyes. Javi and Daniel had only recently started openly flirting, but Tae Hyun had long ago seen how they looked at each other. And the fact that they felt comfortable doing it in front of everyone meant something. But that easy camaraderie was also bittersweet, reminding him of his long-ago early days with XTC . And it was the closest he’d felt to being at home since arriving in Tokyo.
“I wish you two would just fuck and get it over with,” Daniel’s twin sister, Jenny, announced, her voice echoing in the stillness. “It’s hard to move around through all this testosterone.”
Javi casually shrugged. “I’m down if he is.”
“Just don’t let Mina catch you,” Skylar teased, “or she’ll–”
“Catch them doing what?” Mina loudly cut in as she approached the stage.
“It’s nothing,” Tae Hyun assured her, forcing an innocent smile. “What’s up with the sound?”
Mina shrugged, frowning with obvious frustration. “I’m still waiting for the full rundown, but I overheard some techs talking. My Japanese isn’t great, but I think I caught transformer and blown circuit .”
“Damn.” Tae Hyun huffed, genuine annoyance replacing his placidly friendly expression. He’d needed this rehearsal. It was a return to normalcy after weeks of upheaval. “Any idea how long–”
Mina stopped Tae Hyun with a raised index finger, pressing her other hand against the earpiece she wore. Then she nodded. “Looks like the jury’s reached a verdict. I’ll be right back. Hopefully, with good news.”
“If it’s a blown transformer,” Javi suggested, “it could be hours.”
Malik chuckled. “Just what the hell do you even know about that?”
“I’m a journeyman electrician, asshole.”
Malik snorted again. “Electrician asshole sounds about–”
“Listen, everyone,” Tae Hyun cut in, sounding a touch too bright, “everything’s fine. Our choreo’s tight, and our bodies are loose. A little break won’t hurt anything.”
Daniel nodded, tossing a sly grin towards Javi. “I don’t know. Maybe we need to loosen up a bit more.”
“You all looked plenty loose to me.” Ren strolled onto the stage, no longer in costume after Sweet Beast ’s soundcheck and dress rehearsal. He still looked effortlessly cool in his street clothes, with an understated punk vibe. Of course, he also spoke excellent English. He offered Tae Hyun a polite bow. “I enjoyed the performance. It’s my first time seeing it live.”
Tae Hyun returned the bow out of politeness. “Thanks, Ren.” He gestured towards his dancers. “Everyone, this is Ren Yoshida, the leader of Sweet Beast . Ren, this talented bunch is my crew.” He introduced each dancer by name.
“Nice to meet you all,” Ren replied with an easy smile. “I wish I could see the rest, but it sounds like we’ll be down for at least several hours.”
“See?” Javi nudged Malik with his elbow. “I told you.”
Tae Hyun frowned. “Is that official?”
Ren nodded. “According to my manager, yes. The electrical team’s working on it, but they say we won’t be back on stage for a while. Still on schedule for tomorrow, though.”
Tae Hyun huffed a little louder than he meant to. “Alright, everyone. You heard him. Let’s take a lunch break. But stay close by in case we can get back on stage.”
“You got it, boss, “ Jenny replied, slinging an arm over her brother’s shoulder and leading him away.
The others dispersed, too, leaving Ren and Tae Hyun alone on the dimly lit stage.
“What about you?” Ren asked, switching to Korean without missing a beat. “Interested in a little adventure?”
Tae Hyun hesitated. “What kind of adventure?”
“Well–” Ren stepped closer with a playful look in his eye. “–it seems like fate’s handed us some free time. And Harajuku isn’t far. Why not explore and taste a bit of the real Tokyo?”
Tae Hyun knew he should say no. The last time he snuck away like that, he’d taken Jason to Ikseon-dong, where a photographer had ambushed them. But Jang Min Jun had tipped off that photographer. And Tae Hyun had a lot of fun getting to know Jason better. Still, sneaking off wasn’t the responsible choice, especially with the tour looming. But the thrill of a spontaneous adventure and, maybe, getting to know Ren better were hard to ignore. He’d been charming from their first meeting, and there was a hint of something genuine behind his easy smile. Was it wishful thinking, or could this be the start of a genuine friendship? Feeling reckless, Tae Hyun grinned. “You know what? Yeah, let’s do it.”
Ren’s reckless grin mirrored Tae Hyun’s. “Hell, yeah. Now, you need to change.” He looked around to make sure they were alone. “You got somewhere to slip into street clothes?”
Tae Hyun nodded. “My dressing room’s just backstage. But we’ll need to be quick. I don’t want Mina catching on.” He’d also have to avoid his dancers or get stuck inventing an excuse about disappearing. Hopefully, they’d be too engrossed in their own downtime to catch his absence.
Ren’s eyes danced with mischief. “Don’t worry, everyone’s too distracted to notice. Let’s go.”
Tae Hyun hurried toward his dressing room with Ren on his tail. Seong Min was nowhere to be seen, but Tae Hyun was sure his ever-present bodyguard would still follow him. Inside, Ren checked his socials while Tae Hyun swiftly changed into the jeans and hoodie he’d worn to rehearsal, adding a basic bucket hat and sunglasses for good measure. He glanced in the mirror. The idol aura was mostly muted, replaced by an anonymous visitor ready to blend into the Tokyo crowds. He couldn’t help but grin.
Takeshita Street was only a ten-minute walk from the Guardian Skylight Arena, saving them from hailing a cab or taking the subway. Tae Hyun could feel his excitement mounting–both from sneaking away and shirking his responsibilities and at the chance to finally see a real piece of Tokyo. In all his visits there, he’d never been allowed to explore without an entourage of minders, security, and fans.
When they rounded the final corner, the madcap scene exploded into view. A riot of color and sound crashed over Tae Hyun. The wide pathway teemed with shoppers, students, and fashionistas. Bubbly J-pop blasted from unseen speakers, competing with the chatter of excited voices and the sizzle of street food vendors. The air was a heady mix of sweet crepes, grilling yakitori, and an indefinable urban funk. Whimsical, kawaii characters adorned shop facades, with neon signs flashing above them in a rainbow of hues. Countless boutiques overflowed with impossibly trendy clothing, their racks spilling onto the sidewalk. Harajuku girls in frilly lolita dresses strolled arm-in-arm with handsome boys sporting flamboyant hairstyles and daring makeup. It was sensory overload–an unruly feast for the senses unlike anything Tae Hyun had ever experienced. The closest thing he could remember was running around Ppuri Park for the Hyo Culture Ppuri Festival with his sister as a young boy.
Ren chuckled as he wandered beside Tae Hyun, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement. “Welcome to the heart of Tokyo’s wild side,” he said over the din. “Ready to dive in?”
While the energy was familiar–he’d danced and sang before screaming audiences numbering in the thousands–the scene’s sheer audacity still took Tae Hyun’s breath away. The vibrant chaos was a far cry from his meticulously controlled world of rehearsals, recording studios, and photo shoots. He grinned, a rush of adrenaline mirroring the pulse of the crowd around him. He needed this. “This is amazing,” he gushed.
Ren laughed, clearly in his element amidst the madness. “It’s a lot to take in. But trust me, the best stuff is tucked away.” He gestured towards a side alley branching off Takeshita. “Want to see some cool shit?”
Tae Hyun enthusiastically nodded. “Let’s do it!”
The pair navigated the narrow street, dodging groups of giggling schoolgirls and racks crammed with vintage denim. Then the crowd thinned, the music dimmed, and the air took on a whiff of something sweet and smoky.
“Takoyaki.” Ren pointed to a humble food stall, its smoke curling into the afternoon air. “Want to give it a try?”
Tae Hyun eagerly nodded. He’d only seen the octopus dumplings in anime, and the savory smell was irresistible. They ordered, the sizzling balls of dough bringing a bittersweet pang of nostalgia–a taste of his trainee days, stealing away for simple meals between grueling rehearsals.
“So?” Ren deftly maneuvered a toothpick laden with takoyaki toward his mouth. “What do you think of Tokyo so far?”
Tae Hyun grinned as a bit of mayonnaise dribbled down his chin. His steaming dumpling was surprisingly delicious. But the whole experience of standing on a Harajuku side street eating hot snacks from a street vendor was invigorating. With everything going on–the tour, the funeral, and Jason–he’d hardly taken a moment for himself.
It hit Tae Hyun then–a wave of unexpected guilt. The urge to check his phone for any replies to his last message was almost overwhelming. But that only intensified the guilt, a shadow dimming his initial excitement.
“It’s amazing,” Tae Hyun finally admitted, lacking some of his earlier enthusiasm. “But maybe a little overwhelming.”
Ren nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Why don’t we find a spot where we can actually talk for a bit?” He glanced around. “I know a great little bar just up from here.”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
Ren led the way, weaving through the maze of lanes. They soon stopped before a narrow doorway with a simple wooden sign painted with something in kanji marking the entrance. “Here we are.” He held the door open for Tae Hyun. The air inside was a welcome blast of cool against the afternoon’s warmth.
The space was tiny–just a handful of dark wood booths and worn stools huddled around an old wooden bar. The solitary bartender, an aging, balding man with a neatly trimmed silver goatee, nodded at Ren with deliberate disinterest–not even a flicker of recognition. But the gesture was smooth, as if he dealt with semi-famous clientele more often than the faded sake ads tacked to the wall implied. The muffled sounds of a televised game show drifted over, a world away from the colorful madness outside.
“This way.” Ren gestured towards a secluded booth in the back. “It’s cozy, and we can actually hear ourselves think.”
Tae Hyun slipped into the booth as Ren detoured to the bar. He watched Ren as he ordered, marveling at how easily he fit into a place as off the beaten path as the tiny bar. The last time Tae Hyun had been in such an establishment was to retrieve a drunken Jason who’d run off after their first fight. The urge to check his phone again was powerful, but Tae Hyun ignored it until it went away. He was there for himself, enjoying a chance to spend time with his new friend. That was enough.
Ren returned moments later, balancing a tray with a small stoneware sake bottle, two matching cups, and two chilled, sweating bottles of Hoshimizu beer. He set the tray down and poured two shots of the clear sake.
Tae Hyun grabbed his cup and lifted it in a toast. “Geonbae!”
“Kanpai,” Ren replied, offering the Japanese version of the classic toast, and clinked his cup against Tae Hyun’s.
Tae Hyun threw back his sake, the chilled liquid easily sliding down his throat. “Ooh, that’s smooth.”
Ren chuckled and picked up his beer. “This place might look rough, but they know their sake.” He took a long pull from the green bottle and set it back down. “So, what’s on your mind?”
Tae Hyun frowned, unsure how much of his sudden mood shift he’d given away. “What do you mean?”
Ren’s understanding smile was a little sad. “I saw your mood change. It happens. You can talk about it if you want. Or not. We could also just enjoy this beer.”
Tae Hyun sighed, the afternoon escape already losing some of its luster. It should’ve been fun. After all the work he’d done preparing for the tour, he was allowed to have fun. Jason would’ve certainly agreed, even from an ocean away. You always complain about not having any friends , he would’ve said. Here’s one right here . And Ren might want to be friends, but was it worth the risk? He could lie, pretend it was tour stress. But Ren was a fellow idol. He’d see right through it. And anyway, wasn’t this what he wanted? Someone to confide in?
“Honestly, I am having fun. But–” Tae Hyun hesitated. “But I feel guilty about it.” There was no taking it back now. “I left Jason in LA to handle the funeral and all the family stuff. And here I am, having fun when I have work to do.”
Ren slowly nodded, his eyes heavy with compassion. “And you miss him.”
Tae Hyun groaned. “I miss him so much!” A self-deprecating chuckle slipped out. “I used to be a complete loner. Out of necessity, you know? But now? It’s been days since I last saw Jason, and he’s all I think about.”
“I get it,” Ren quietly answered, his gaze drifting away as if lost in his memories. He blinked, refocusing on Tae Hyun. “Being in the closet? It fucks with your head, even after you come out.”
“In some ways, it was easier before,” Tae Hyun admitted.
“But in others–” Ren trailed off, leaving the obvious part unspoken. He used the silence to refill their sake cups. “It can get lonely,” he finished, taking a small sip.
Tae Hyun nodded, the sake pleasantly warming him from within. “Too lonely.” Loneliness was the one constant, the price you paid for keeping the truth a secret.
A shadow of something unreadable briefly darkened Ren’s expression and was gone as quickly as it appeared. “I know the feeling,” he admitted, raw and vulnerable. “Even with tour life and all the fans, you could spend all your time surrounded by people and still be lonely. At the end of the day, there’s still that disconnect. That emptiness.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping a conspiratorial notch. “We put on this persona, but it’s not our real selves, right?”
Tae Hyun hesitated, the sudden shift in conversation catching him off-guard. Ren’s gaze held an intensity that was both unsettling and oddly comforting. “We do what we have to,” he finally agreed, taking a swig of his beer to hide his unease. It was all so familiar, the loneliness lurking beneath the glamor. It was a loneliness he’d forced on himself for years, hiding his pain and vulnerability behind an impenetrable wall. He’d only let a handful of people past that wall. His sister. Yoo Mi. And, most recently, Jason. Maybe it was time for one more.
Ren nodded, sharing a sympathetic smile. “It’s not exactly a normal life. Sometimes–” He paused, his eyes searching Tae Hyun’s for something. “Sometimes a little bit of normal, even for a few hours, can make all the difference.”
That statement deeply resonated with Tae Hyun. With Jason a world away, that shared moment with Ren, oddly enough, felt closest to normal. “Yeah. You’re totally right.”
A ghost of a smile played on Ren’s lips. “I know. It’s why I was so excited to meet you.” His expression subtly shifted, more vulnerability replacing the faint smile. “I haven’t really had anyone to talk about this shit with. Not anyone who really gets it, you know?”
Tae Hyun slowly nodded. Ren understood his experiences in a way others hadn’t. Their secret was more than surface-level similarity. It was a bond built from isolation and shared risk. “Can I ask about–you know? What happened?”
Ren smirked. “You didn’t read the gossip blogs?”
“Of course I did. But–” Tae Hyun trailed off with a shrug. “They’re all just lies and fan service.”
Ren bitterly laughed. “Don’t I know it.” His smile faded. “The stories about me were mostly true. I started seeing this guy on the production team–it was complicated. We couldn’t openly date, so we hid everything as much as possible.” He took a deep breath. “And then things got messy. A jealous friend of his threatened to out us, and I had no fucking idea what to do.” He shrugged. “So, I came clean and told my label.”
Tae Hyun’s eyes widened with shock. “You did? That was risky.”
Ren snorted. “I was young and naive. I figured they’d spent so much time and money on me they’d never fire me just for rumors.”
Tae Hyun laughed. He’d always known that wasn’t true, but he could relate to being young and naive. “What did they say?”
Ren smiled. “They said coming out was the best way to control the damage, but there were no guarantees.”
Tae Hyun’s jaw dropped. Kbr would never have been so supportive. “Really? They didn’t even try firing you?”
Ren shrugged again. “I’m sure they discussed it. But everything ended up working out for them, right? Having a gay idol was a novelty and good for PR.” He hesitated. “Yeah, I lost some fans, but I eventually gained more. Of course, it wasn’t as simple as the headlines make it out.”
“That part I get,” Tae Hyun admitted with a wry smile. “But that’s not the whole story, is it? ”
Ren’s chuckle had a hint of sadness. “That’s the sanitized drama series version. There were bad nights and lots of arguments.” He huffed, his nonchalant facade crumbling as he teared up. “And the guy I was seeing when all that shit started? He fucking bailed on me anyway. Left the label and just disappeared. It was so lonely. I almost quit the whole damn thing.”
Tae Hyun’s heart ached. He impulsively reached for Ren’s hand. “Hey, you’re not alone. Not anymore.”
Ren smiled, his eyes glistening with fresh tears. “Thanks. That means a lot.” He gave Tae Hyun’s hand a hesitant squeeze, then released it. “How about another beer?”
“I’d love one.”
The moment broken, Ren returned to the bar, leaving Tae Hyun to bask for a moment longer in the warmth of newfound connection, feeling grateful for his impulsive decision to sneak away. Ren totally got it–the loneliness, the pressure, the need to hide his true self. It was such a relief to just be understood after all the isolation and secrets–to not have to explain how it all felt. It was the kind of friendship he’d longed for, someone who shared his unique struggles. He smiled. Jason would definitely like Ren. He was sure of it. They’d have so much to talk about, too.
Then, a shadow of movement in the corner of his eye dragged him back to reality. He expected to see Ren returning but instead looked up at Seong Min.
“Mr. Woo, sir. They’re looking for you back at the arena. They’ve been trying to call you.”
“What?” Tae Hyun grabbed his phone to check for missed calls and saw the No Signal indicator. “Shit. Of course.” He huffed. “Did you talk to Mina? ”
“Yes, sir. I told her you’d stepped out to get some fresh air and would return shortly.”
Tae Hyun sighed with relief. “Thanks, Seong Min.”
“Excuse me.” Ren awkwardly slipped past Seong Min, a pair of beers in hand. “What’s up?”
“I have to go back,” Tae Hyun reluctantly admitted.
Ren’s frown was almost a scowl. “Are you sure? We’re having such a great time.” Tae Hyun solemnly nodded. “Ah, well. At least we had some fun, right?”
Tae Hyun managed a smile despite the sting of disappointment. Ren was right. It had been just what he needed–a little bit of normal amid the madness. “Yeah, we definitely did.”