“I was doing research a while back and just caught an interview with this young guy. I can’t remember the name now, but he said there’s a triangle to production. The points are quality, speed, and cost. He said people tend to want things good, fast, and cheap, but that isn’t realistic. A product can be cheap and it might even be fast, but it isn’t going to be good. It can be high quality and done fast, but it more than likely isn’t going to be cheap. However, if a client is looking for high quality, then it isn’t going to be fast and certainly not cheap. A good engineer, or in our case, a good production team, should aim for the middle, leaning toward quality. We should aim for a good-quality product while producing it in a realistic amount of time and at a reasonable cost. While he was talking sound engineering, I think that applies to any aspect of business where a product is being made.”
Min-su nodded. “That makes sense. The bigger the idea, the costlier the creation of it, and the more chances for problems and delays. The more complex, the more difficult it is to produce, which will make the project take longer.”
“You two don’t stop, do you?” Jong-in chuckled as he came up to them. “The minute you have a project, you’re like hounds on the scent. You focus solely on that. What are we talking about?”
“The triangle of production, quality versus speed versus cost,” Min-su said and then turned back to Jin-woo. “I wish you could remember that guy’s name. I want to watch the interview.”
“I’ll see if I can find it. I know he was a YouTuber as well as a sound engineer. He’s probably in my history. I’ll look it up when I get home today.”
“No, when you get home today, you’re going to go to sleep. You’ll need all your rest for our presentation tomorrow. We have to sell this thing,” Min-su said, pointing a french fry dripping with ketchup at him, before popping it into her mouth.
“Don’t remind me,” Jin-woo said. “This is the worst part of the whole project.”
“Why?” Jong-in said. “Your work is brilliant.”
“My work may be brilliant, and I still disagree with that idea, but my public speaking is not,” Jin-woo cried. “I get tongue-tied, and feel as if I’m going to pass out, and I want to throw up.”
“You did fine with our last project,” Jong-in pointed out.
“Yeah, and that was much better than the first time you presented to the class,” Min-su reminded him. “So you’re getting better with it.”
“But that’s in front of people I pretty much know. This is Park Soon-joon hyung, a giant in the South Korean entertainment industry, the God of K-pop. I have to impress this man not only with my work, but with my ability to present it in a confident and professional manner. I’m going to die. Die, I tell you!”
“Ah, okay, I get what this is,” Jong-in said as he turned to Min-su. “He never remembers, does he?”
“Nope, not once,” she agreed. “I keep hoping, though.”
“What are you two talking about?” Jin-woo demanded. “I’m talking about my impending doom, and you’re talking nonsense? Where’s the love?”
“The love is in the fact you never remember what happens when you start talking about music or art or digital production,” Jong-in said.
“You never remember these are topics you love, and you get so absorbed in talking about them you forget everything else. It doesn’t matter who you’re talking to,” Min-su said with a gentle smile. “You once explained the entire Western neoclassical art movement to the Dean of Student Affairs and didn’t stutter or throw up once.”
“Granted, he got a glazed look on his face because he was completely lost, but still, he was a very important authority figure whom you talked to without a problem,” Jong-in said with a smile. “You can do this, Jin-woo-ya. You just need to do you.”
“Listen, we’ve all been working really hard these last few weeks, and this project is super important, so we’ve been more stressed about it,” Min-su said, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Tonight we’re going to go out and relax, but not too much, and then we’ll hit that presentation and make it bow down before us! We will win this. Hwaiting!”
“Hwaiting!” Jin-woo and Jong-in laughed.
“Okay, Club Cocoon or M2?” Min-su said with a clap.
“I thought you said we couldn’t relax too much?” Jong-in said.
“Well, we could go to I Love K-pop,” Min-su said.
“That sounds like a plan,” Jin-woo said. “I really just want to relax.”
“Then I Love K-pop it is,” Min-su said. “I’ll see you guys later. I have to run some errands for my mom before I head home. Jin-woo-ya, go home and get some sleep. I’ll call you to make sure you wake up.”
“I still have some work to do on my sound mix project, so I’m going to head back to the university,” Jong-in said. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Jin-woo watched his friends leave and then laid his head on the table. He could fall asleep right here but knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. He had a half-hour-plus trip home. Someday he’d be able to afford a car and wouldn’t have to switch buses and trains so much. He could just go whatever route he wanted if he chose to drive. He could meander if he wanted, seeing aspects of the city and his neighborhood he might not otherwise see. He could even go beyond Seoul without having to coordinate train schedules.
Yet Jin-woo knew that was a long time off. He would have to focus on paying off his university fees, rent, and so many other things. He still had his parents’ hospital bills. His aunt refused to pay those, so he had to use the monthly stipend from the trust fund his grandparents had established for him. She hadn’t approved of Jin-woo’s father at all.
Jin-woo shook his head. He wasn’t going to think of that spiteful woman. He was going to go home and get some rest, hopefully without dreaming about Ki-tae. Three weeks straight of wet dreams; it was no wonder he was exhausted. There had to be something wrong with him.
Cheongul
“KI-TAE?” CHEONGUL knocked on the door but got no response. With a sigh, he checked the handle and found it unlocked. He walked inside, pausing at the corner. Ki-tae was sprawled across his bed, facedown. He looked exhausted, and if the scent filling the air was any indication, he hadn’t gotten any rest. Dream walking could be a pain in the ass. Cheongul hated to wake him, but they had to go to the presentation today, Soon-joon’s orders.
Much like HanYin, Ki-tae had issues waking up, especially if he was on his stomach. Cheongul moved to the end of the bed, well out of arm’s reach. The trick was to wake him up slowly. With HanYin, it didn’t matter. Slow or fast, he was going to come up fighting if anything other than his alarm clock woke him up.
“Ki-tae,” Cheongul called. “Time to wake up, namdongsaeng. We have the presentation today.”
Ki-tae grunted and turned his head to face the other way. Cheongul sighed. He was going to have to do it the hard way. He knew he should have made sure Ki-tae set his alarm clock last night. Cheongul took Ki-tae’s left foot and shook it gently. “Ki-tae!”
As expected, Ki-tae jerked into a ball and exploded out of the bed at Cheongul. Thankfully he was prepared and moved out of the way. Ki-tae stared at him with silver eyes, not quite awake yet. It would take a minute or two for Cheongul’s scent to register and for Ki-tae’s brain to process the information. If Cheongul stayed still while that happened, Ki-tae wouldn’t attack again. Ah, the trials of living in a household of Vampires with tragic pasts, including his own.
Finally Ki-tae blinked and straightened. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Seven in the morning,” Cheongul said. “We have to be at Jeonjin University by nine. Abeoji says we can dress comfortably but presentable. Think you can manage that?”
“I dress better than you,” Ki-tae muttered, rubbing a hand through his hair.
“Hardly.” Cheongul snorted. “When did you start sleeping naked?”
“About three weeks ago,” Ki-tae grumbled. “Now go away so I can get dressed in peace.”
“HanYin’s making breakfast,” Cheongul said as he walked out of the room. “Coffee is already waiting.”
Ki-tae
“AWESOME.” KI-TAE smiled as he headed to the bathroom. Of the three of them, HanYin was the best cook. Ki-tae swore HanYin would have been a chef if he didn’t love music so much. Either way, if he ever decided to retire from the business, he had another skill to fall back on. Ki-tae wished he could say the same. He really wasn’t good at anything but singing, dancing, and making music. Well, there was one other thing he was good at, but he would never sell his body, never again. Shaking the dark thoughts from his mind, he turned on the waterfall showerhead.
When Soon-joon decided to build this house, he had asked their opinions on how they wanted their rooms to look. He said they would always have a place in his home, even if they moved far away. Ki-tae had few good memories of his past, but one of them was finding a secluded waterfall deep in the wilderness. The grotto was so serene, untouched by anything. He had been hiding, running, and was completely filthy. He looked more animal than man, and finding that waterfall was a blessing. He remembered standing naked in it and letting the water wash away everything. Not just the dirt and filth, but the negative energy he had been trying to escape. He was fourteen, maybe fifteen, at the time. He couldn’t remember his birthday. After that he felt cleaner than he ever had before. It hadn’t lasted long, but it was one of his better memories. That was why he had the showerhead changed when waterfall ones became available. He wanted that sensation every time he showered. He wanted to feel the water cascading over his body, making him lighter, cleaner again.
Twenty minutes later Ki-tae stood before his closet, trying to decide what to wear. Comfortable but presentable. With a smile, he pulled out a high-neck shirt with long sleeves, his black skinny jeans, and followed those up with his black leather jacket and combat-style boots. Yes, he would be all in black, but he would look damn good.
He quickly styled his hair, blowing it dry partway before using gel to get a wet, messy look. Then he grabbed the makeup kit. Since they more than likely wouldn’t be asked to perform, Ki-tae kept it light, just lining his eyes and using a tinted lip gloss, and he was done. He grabbed his jacket off the bed, met the others in the entryway, and burst out laughing. It couldn’t have worked out better if they had planned it. The only differences in their ensembles were shirt colors and shoes. Cheongul preferred his white high-tops and had paired them with a white top and three beaded necklaces. HanYin had chosen his glittering purple top, sleeveless, of course, and his side-zipped high-tops, but they all wore black jeans and a leather jacket.
“I see we have a common theme today.” Soon-joon chuckled. He himself had chosen to wear a white T-shirt under a pastel-patterned vest and a dark gray wide-collared, thigh-length coat paired with charcoal gray slacks. He looked casual and yet sophisticated.
“What do you mean, Abeoji?” Ki-tae asked with a cheeky grin. “This is us every day.”
Soon-joon laughed. “Get in the car. HanYin packed breakfast. We can eat on the way. I want to get there a little early so we can sit down with Seonsaengnim. The room should be secured by the time we get to the university, and we can meet in there.”
“How publicized was this?” Cheongul asked as they settled in the car. “I don’t recall seeing it on any of the social media.”
“I wanted the students to be able to work undisturbed by reporters, so the story will break today. We all know how annoying they can be on occasion. If they weren’t necessary, I wouldn’t deal with them at all,” Soon-joon said. “There will be a press conference after the presentations. Production will begin in a week’s time.”
“You think these students are ready for it?” HanYin asked.
“I think so, and we’ll have our normal team on hand. I’ve arranged for on-site mentors for the group that wins, who will work with the students and help teach them with hands-on experience,” Soon-joon said.
“You’ve thought of everything as usual,” Ki-tae said absently as he stared out the window. He wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation. His mind was focused on one student in particular. This would be the first time he would see Jin-woo since the concert, and Ki-tae wasn’t sure how he was going to react. He needed to remain professional, but it was going to be damned difficult. Jin-woo just did it for him in a way he’d never experienced before. Not to mention he had no idea how the bond was going to affect their interaction.
Chatter filled the car for the remainder of the trip, but Ki-tae really didn’t contribute. What good mood he’d had upon waking had slowly faded until he was left with a sense of numbness. It was as if he were suddenly wrapped in cotton, unable to feel anything. A part of him wanted to maintain this detachment until they left the university, but Ki-tae knew he wasn’t that lucky. It would probably last until they arrived, and then everything would slam into him once he stepped foot on campus.
Suddenly HanYin bumped his shoulder. When Ki-tae turned to face him, HanYin gave him a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone,” he said quietly. “We’re here with you, and we will help you get through this.”
“Thank you,” Ki-tae whispered. HanYin nodded but didn’t say anything further. He didn’t need to.
All too soon, they arrived at Jeonjin University. There were some curious stares as the two black cars pulled through the main gate to the left of the athletic field, but no one rushed the cars. Students stopped to watch. Soon-joon exited first, sunglasses firmly in place. It wasn’t until Cheongul and HanYin exited either side of the car, their bodyguards holding the doors, that a more… vocal response was heard. Cries of “Bam Kiseu” filled the air as the more diehard fans recognized them, even from a distance. They would have to walk the rest of the way to Lecture Building I, where the presentations were to be held.
Kim Kyu-won met them at the door, a young woman standing to his left and slightly behind him. He and Soon-joon greeted each other as old friends.
“I would like to introduce you to the group,” Soon-joon said, turning to face Ki-tae, Cheongul, and HanYin. “Please allow me to introduce Ki-tae dongsaeng, Cheongul dongsaeng, and HanYin dongsaeng. Boys, this is Kim Kyu-won seonsaeng-ssi.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Seonsaengnim,” they said as they bowed.
“The honor is mine. Welcome to Jeonjin University. This is my assistant, Park Sung-yi hubae,” Teacher Kim said politely as he gestured to the young woman. “Please. Follow me, and I will show you to the room we will be using.”
“Wonderful. I have some things I wish to go over with you before we begin,” Soon-joon said.
“The presentations are scheduled to begin at ten. I wanted to give them plenty of time to prepare,” Seonsaengnim said as he ushered them into the building.
“Excellent.”
Ki-tae didn’t pay much attention to their surroundings. He could hear the clicking of phone cameras going off, hear the excited chatter of the students. There were a plethora of scents filling the air, but one scent rose above them. Ki-tae stopped in his tracks just before entering the building and lifted his head. He inhaled deeply, pulling the smell into his lungs. He knew that smell, knew it intimately, even mixed with the faint scent of Shifter and something else, something… wild. He turned around and scanned the area. Far down the walkway, he spotted Jin-woo walking with two other students, a male and a female. They stood close together, indicating a close relationship. Suddenly Cheongul grabbed his arm.
“You’re growling,” he whispered in Ki-tae’s ear. “And if you pull off your sunglasses, you’re going to give everyone here a perfect shot of your silver eyes. Let’s go. You’ll see him in a little bit.”
“They’re touching him.”
“They’re probably his friends. We touch each other all the time,” Cheongul said. “It’s normal. Come on, Ki-tae-ya. People are beginning to stare harder than they should.”
Ki-tae allowed Cheongul to push him into the building. He tried to ignore the urge to rip Jin-woo away fr
om the other two, but it was incredibly difficult. How the hell was he going to react when they were in the same room? Was he going to turn into some slavering beast bent on claiming what was his and destroying anything that got in his way? The idea terrified him.
He caught Soon-joon watching him when he lifted his head. Ki-tae gave him a smile and a nod. He would be fine. He had to be. As they continued walking, Cheongul and HanYin flanked him, and Ki-tae chuckled. His brothers could be overprotective at times, and this was, apparently, one of those times. They smiled and waved as if everything was normal, because that’s how it had to be, and they had been playing this game for quite some time. Granted, they hadn’t been at it as long as Soon-joon, but they weren’t brand-new either.
They were led into a medium-sized room with a small raised dais and a large projection screen hanging behind it. There was a podium to the left of the screen. The seats were about ten feet from the dais itself and stretched several rows back, with a center aisle splitting them into two sections. Each row was six seats deep and slightly higher than the one before it. HanYin gave a low whistle and then turned to Ki-tae, smiling.
“This room has great acoustics.”
“No kidding.” Ki-tae chuckled.
“You wouldn’t have to raise your voice much to be heard in the back without a mic,” Cheongul agreed.
“The university has made sure every room where formal presentations may be made has the proper sound quality as part of the design,” Teacher Kim said. “The original idea was to use the seminar rooms, but they hold, at most, fifteen people, and as these presentations may be multimedia, we felt the rooms might be too small, so we rescheduled for this room.”
“This is perfect, Seonsaengnim,” Cheongul said with a smile. “As HanYin-a said, the acoustics are excellent. Don’t you agree, Ki-tae-ya?”
“Yes,” Ki-tae said.
Night Kiss Page 6