#stylesofh2o

     Being fashionably late was one of Roger’s strong suits. Making an entrance, however, was his expertise. He ran a hand over his carefully styled hair before exiting his sports car and throwing the keys with a charming grin to one of the valets. 

     “Take care of her, will you?” A strong English enveloped his words as he patted the man on the shoulder and made his way towards the entrance of the imposing mansion. He gave dazzling smiles to any eyes that set on him and was welcomed into the building by a tray of champagne glasses. “Cheers,” he made as he picked up a flute and advanced further. The ballroom basked in tones of gold and red, stylish decorations adorning walls and tables. Everything around him looked and felt expensive. 

     “Ah, Melanie!” he greeted as he rose his glass towards one of the women afront him. “Long time, no see, no?” Kisses on cheeks were shared, introductions were made and soon enough, as usual, Roger was the centre of attention. He accepted the flattery with feigned timidness, never one to shy away from laudation. Entrapped as he was in conversation, he barely noticed the familiar face in the crowd - he did see him, however. With rushed apologies, he took his leave with a promise to return, before walking towards the man that piqued his interest. 

  Zen welcomed the other’s pressed form as his back hit the wall of the building, a smile playing at his lips under the kiss. The risk of being found out was still there, even when he currently wasn’t in South Korea. Japan was aware of Zen’s climb to fame, but their relationship had yet to be fully disclosed. However, what with Zen’s family having learned of Zen’s partner and denying him moreso than before, he decided to throw his cares to the wind. Fuck it -- he loved this man.

  Therefore, he should be allowed to kiss this man wherever and whenever he liked. So he returned the kiss, hands pressed firm to Yui’s sides to keep him close. “I love you,” Zen muttered against Yui’s mouth, fingers hooking into the belt loops of the other’s pants to keep him close.   // @stylesofh2o

he knows it would be safer for the sake of appearances to have waited until they weren’t in public anymore - but yui felt like he’d waited long enough . he’s selfish , he knows . but it seemed like anything that could have gone wrong already had at this point - & after waiting a two whole months after leaving south korea to be able to meet up with zen again , he felt like he’d waited long enough to be able to get close like this .

yui wasn’t there when zen’s family found out . he wasn’t there to help . all he could do was stay on the phone & try to cease his own climbing anger at the entire situation . but he could do something now . 

It was in typically dramatic Daisuke fashion that he’d arrived, exiting the needlessly extravagant car with two assistants at his back carrying his things: a large finely crafted and well-polished wine crate AND A CAT CARRIER.

This was AN ENTIRE DAY cleared on his schedule to visit one of his very few friends he actually wanted to keep. Whether he’d actually get this entire day to spend with Jumin? He couldn’t really say when he’d told Haru back at the MCPTF to contact him if anything came up but until any disasters DID or DID NOT show up unannounced he was set on enjoying himself and hoped Jumin would enjoy himself, too.

❝ Jumin, I know I didn’t give any notice but since I had the time I thought I should spare a visit on your birthday. Genevieve is here too to keep Elizabeth company. ❞ He’d greet with a NATURAL smile the second blue eyes landed on the other magnate. The last time they’d met up Daisuke hadn’t been in the best of moods with everything that had started to unravel but now that was all behind him. Putting his focus toward re-inventing the Kanbe legacy since it was so thoroughly tarnished by his grandmother’s actions has become FULFILLING WORK and traveling the world with Haru and building upon the bond they’d already established left him feeling BETTER THAN EVER. Perhaps even to a point he could say he was HAPPY.

Of course there was little effort on Daisuke’s behalf making arrangements for their current task at hand. He along with his partner, Kato were able to slip onto the college campus, undetected and cascading as students as they arranged for a dorm fit for two people. Briskly leading the way to their newly acquired dorm (after a long-winded tour of the school they were attending), Daisuke promptly rolled his suitcase besides his bed before strolling past to shut the door behind them. Upon turning to Kato, he couldn’t help but to look beyond, inspecting the details of their room upon sweeping glance, a miniscule hint of distaste coloring his face as he noticed the missed form of dirt collecting at the corner of one of the nearby tables.

❝ The least they could’ve done was dust the tables and the corners of this room..❞ Daisuke commented flatly, peeling off his coat and neatly folding it across his arm in an attempt to make himself feel more ‘at home’, more ‘comfortable’.

❝ We need to find a way to extract information from the students here without being too conspicuous..I’m assuming methods used in the past won’t work here considering there’s a very low probability of someone with a large amount of wealth attending this campus in particular..❞ Daisuke said, returning his glance back towards Kato as he awaited his superior’s answer. 

New York might not have been the bustling home of the most famous ballets, or the dancers who were most well-known; the Royal Ballet, and the Bolshoi were far, far more likely to claim those titles, but New York was home, and it almost always came with new things; new ballets, new roles, new auditions. The announcement of the opening of Apollo had come at a good time. He’d finished the year, Julliard’s strict  training schedule a familiar one after three years, and the exams had finished early last week.

Now, he was at the theatre, dance bag resting beside him, as he tied the first pointe shoes. They were starting to wear thin, and he’d need to replace them, probably sooner rather than later (he’d learned the value of not letting them wear out on him after the soles came loose mid jump, and he’d landed and sprawled half way across the room). He tied off the shoe, the ribbon tight behind his ankle as he crossed his legs, and began with the second foot.

There wasn’t an overwhelming number of people; most of them were ones he’s seen before- a few he’d been going to classes with since they were both small enough to not realize they wanted to do this as a career. Even then, there had never been an overwhelming number of men in the ballet, and he’d had more than a few years where he was the only one he saw outside competitions. 

A few of them might even be stiff competition for the titular role, but... across the room, was someone he hadn’t seen at an audition before, but did remember seeing in the paper a handful of weeks back. At the time, he hadn’t payed much attention, too caught up in the distraction of practice and the approaching finals. Now, he’d have to see what the other man was like, and what sort of rivalry there would be.