#advkeybum

@advkeybum

Wonho slumped down in the chair behind the counter. Work had been a pain today and he was so ready to go home. From customers spilling soda on the expensive keyboards, to high school students that wouldn’t get out after curfew, Wonho had dealt with too much bs that day. The door dinged and he stood up to welcome another customer, his retail smile plastered on his face.

Instead he saw Key, his friend and coworker. His smile changed to a real one in an instant.

“I’m so glad to see you. The afternoon shift was hell!” He whispered as soon as Key was behind the counter. “Some kid spilled a soda on one of the new keyboards, and it’s totally ruined. The boss is going to be so mad about that. Then at 10, when I was checking ids, some high school kid refused to leave for around 15 minutes. I thought I was going to have to physically throw him out the door. He tried to pick a fight with me like it’s my fault that the government set a curfew for high school kids! Can you believe it?!”

📢 holiday meme for @advkeybum 📢status: not accepting!

Jonghyun looks at him for a second before pointing at the other in a scolding fashion. “First of all-- is that how you talk to your hyung?” He sounds somewhat like a mother when he says this-- his moms Jieun and Suji would be so proud of him if they could see him now. 

Jisoo raised a cool eyebrow as Kibum the information broker handed her a Christmas present, of all things.

What? Jisoo was confused. Did she do something to warrant this treatment...? Surely not, as Jisoo clearly remembered threatening to put him at the business end of her sniper scope just last week.

(And Jisoo liked to think herself emotionally well versed enough to realize that was not something to warrant a reward, though perhaps the times have changed... Kibum did like to mingle with the youngsters nowadays, after all.

And why yes, Jisoo had taken a day or two off to familiarize herself with Key’s routine like a good sniper should, or else how in the world would she be able to snipe him in a moment’s notice if anything should go...awry.)

In response, Jisoo blocked Kibum’s hurried exit, before putting the present back in his hands.

“Open it.” Jisoo said, eyes fixated on the present. “And should there be explosives, well, I sure hope you’re prepared to do down with me.”

@advkeybum

The crowd isn’t much right now, still a bit too early for there to be many people beyond a few early drinkers and truant students. Her red dress has turned purple in the blue lighting (hello, colour theory), velvet warm in the chilly bar. She’s singing an Oh Wonder song right now, settle down, settle down. It’s got a beautiful melody, haunting and gentle, and it suits the halcyon mood today.

The strangest thing about being bar singer is the range of songs and genres you’re expected to sing. Joy is a purist, stretches her voice like taffy to sing the songs more like the original artists, moulds it against theirs, tries to keep to their versions even as she makes it her own. She likes the way her voice sounds when it dips into the lower notes, dances around the higher ones and pulls and pushes her voice into the songs when she sings. Electro pop is fun, choppy beats and enchanting melody lines, but soft rock, oh, she loves it.

“Over the moon, over the midnight moon~”

She makes eye contact with a few patrons, smiling at them when she does. She’d taken the job for rather selfish reasons but she’s come to quite enjoy just singing for people and talking to them after her sets. Speaking of - her set finishes a little earlier than she’d planned. There aren’t very many people, anyway, so the manager tells her to just take a break until there are a few more customers.

The break is definitely welcome. Joy jumps off the stage with a promise of more songs in a bit, then walks towards the bar. Singing, she’s found, makes her thirsty. Good thing she works in a bar. “Gin and tonic please!”

It’s not overpoweringly alcoholic, so she should be fine for her next shift. In the meantime... She’s trying this self-control thing, and she’s found that talking to people is practically as fun as trying to make them fight. Joy doubts she’ll be able to hold a particularly engaging conversation with the two teenage boys milling about the place, even though they’re one of the only ones who look around her age. There’s another guy drinking alone in a booth, and she supposes it wouldn’t hurt to just try to strike a conversation.

sms ( to : Rabbit Kibum ) : you blaming that on me

sms ( to : Rabbit Kibum ) : is it because i breathe fire? thats not fair. even if i am maybe at fault

sms ( to : Rabbit Kibum ) : MAYBE

“Yes.” Joy nods at him, gestures to the radio in question. “It’s Christmas music.” That’s as good an explanation as any (and in any case, she can just blame it on Daehyun. She’s only passing along the loud and lengthy Christmas carols courtesy of him.). “Sing with me!”

She grabs his hands and tugs him up, rolling her eyes at his ungainly shriek because she knows there’s no way she could have even pulled him up if he hadn’t wanted to. Or maybe she could, she is unnaturally strong. Oops. “Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree,” she sings, then emphasizes, “for me.” Joy trills the rest of the song at Key, swinging his arms around until he caves.

“Finally,” she teases, but the song is over, and then I don’t want a lot for Christmas floats over the radio, and Key looks part scandalised and part amused when Joy starts screeching in an attempt to hit the whistle notes. They fare better with Last Christmas, although he just has to point out that it isn’t actually meant to be a Christmas song.

@advkeybum

Going out to bars and enjoying his time isn’t exactly uncommon for Hansol. Sure, he isn’t the kind to frequent them but if he gets an invitation from a friend or has the urge to watch strangers in some of their most vulnerable states he’s never one to pass up the opportunity. Today is no different. He’s in the mood for a drink or two and the inclusion of an acquaintance of his doesn’t exactly hurt. No, in fact, dragging Kibum to the bar only makes things that much more fun. 

Hansol himself is taking it quite slowly. He’d rather not get too intoxicated, at least not right away. He needs his head to be a little further in the clear so he can execute his full plan. What kind of plan might that be? Well, it definitely involves his soon to be friend. He and Key may not be all that close yet, but if Hansol can help it they certainly will be. 

Key’s a useful type- the sort that Hansol likes to have under his control. He has information and that alone is enough to make Hansol want to keep him around- earn his trust. Of course, Kibum doesn’t seem like the type to fall for just any of Hansol’s acts, so the contracter is taking it a step further. He has his ways of making things happen. Inviting Key to a bar is just the easy way to come across as friendly. From here, he just needs the attractive information broker to get a bit drunk and a little more likely to say the word “yes”.

It started with flattery. Hansol’s told the guy how attractive he thinks he is multiple times now without fail and he thinks it’s working to his advantage. Now the younger offered to pay for drinks and his just waiting for the right time to ask his questions. He’s never made this kind of contract before, but it seems like it could work just perfectly. He flashes a cute smile and drinks a very small sip of what’s infront of him. At the moment, he’s very glad he can hold his liquor so well.

“I’m sooo glad you decided to come with me, hyung!” He pushes a bit of his hair out of his face and glances at the older man from the corner of his eye. “I would’ve been a lot more lonely if you hadn’t. Plus, when I’m out with someone so attractive I can’t help but feel a bit more confident! I’m sure anyone else here is jealous just because you’re here at all.” He hums a little- eyes shifting to his glass. It’s a casual conversation, but he’s good at keeping them up. He’s not exactly sure how much Kibum’s had at this point, but he’ll see soon enough.

@advkeybum

The laws of high school dictates that every junior should have a favourite senior. The obvious seniors that most juniors would fawn over were the handsome, sporty seniors; but there were some juniors who would kiss the asses of honour roll seniors because that would guarantee them free notes and a better chance at excelling in their grades; and the few remaining others—usually weirdos—would write secret love letters to the oddball senior that they truly felt they had a bond with. So it should come as no surprise that Jennie, herself, entertained this cliché and had her very own favourite senior that she fondly looked up to. But he wasn’t very sporty, not like one would expect someone like Jennie to adore; and although he was—is—insanely smart, Jennie didn’t choose him for the sole purpose of making the honour roll, either. She supposes if anything, he was a bit of an oddball, but not the kind of oddball that the cliché’s referring to: that being a complete and utter loser.

No, Kim Kibum was something else entirely.

And in an incredible plot twist, Jennie has also never met this ‘favourite senior’ of hers, either. When she had entered high school, he was already long gone, but his name still lingered in the hallways. As a hacker who often gathers information that others’ are trying to hide, she believes that it is practically written law for one’s past to follow them wherever they went; and that was what happened to Kibum.

All anyone knew was that he had to have stirred up some trouble in his previous high school, what with him transferring to Incheon in his last year—something dire had to have happened for any good Korean parent to decide that the best possible course of action for their child’s education was to add on the pressure of trying to fit into a new school on top of prepping for finals—but Jennie, being her, decided to find out why simply because she thought it would be interesting. And oh, did it pay off.

Kibum was, in short, a hacker, just like her. (In a more extended version, a freaking genius. And he was pretty cute, to top it all off.)

She was so new to hacking then, and had not been exposed to others’ who enjoyed computing just like she did—it was a guilty pleasure of hers that she treated a bit like the proverbial dirty laundry—so it came as a surprise to find someone just like her in her school (well, who was in her school). And the thing about Jennie is she is a bit like a rabid dog who would bite and never let go.

So cut to the present, in one of her spare days, she happened to think of him after all these years and decided, on a whim, to hack into his private archives. It was hard, no doubt—and gladly so, because if he could only manage shitty firewalls, needless to say, she would be extremely disappointed—but she finally got in. She’d like to think it was because she was just that good, but the real reason as to why she had managed to hack into his network was because he was prone to human errors, while she was not. It hurts her to admit, but she thinks that if she was rid of her powers and had only manual code to rely on, he’d be a formidable opponent—one she might possibly even lose to.

Needless to say, she had to meet the subject of her hero worship in high school. So off she searched for him, through hacked police security cameras around town, and a vicious smirk tugged at the corner of her lips when his face pops up on her screen.

There.

Turns out he lives and breathes coffee, just like she did. (Oh, they had so much in common.)

Laptop held tightly within her arms, Jennie skips to this coffee shop that he often visits. (Perhaps they make their coffee much better in this one compared to the one she frequents, because seniors are supposed to know everything: that may extend to the best coffee joints.) When she finally arrives, her eyes dart towards that table that’s right beside the counter—it’s her favourite spot, because it saves her the effort for when she orders the next cup—and there he is.

(She squeals in delight, because he is just like her.)

Jennie hops towards the seat across from him and pulls it out quickly, the legs of the chair dragging against the cold tiles and making a loud, screeching noise. She dumps her laptop on his table, careful not to be too harsh lest she accidentally spills his coffee, then plops herself on the seat.

“Hi! I’m Jennie, and you’re Kibum. I’ve heard so much about you!” she sings, and from her jacket pocket, she pulls out a red letter, “you were my favourite senior in high school! Everyone else had love letters to give to their seniors, but I could never give this to you because—well—you already graduated by the time I got in, but oh well…”

She hands him the letter, the bright smile never once faltering.

“Oh! By the way,” she turns her head to face the counter and addresses the cashier, “I’ll have an iced mocha with whipped cream! Extra-large!”