Dude...: A Day in the Life of 2PM
Author's Note: Forgot all about this. x_x ...my bad. Read on!
At their next stop, Wooyoung clung to Khun for dear life, evading Junsu at every turn. He hoped the distraction of food would calm him for the time being until they got home, and could finally breathe when one of his hungriest members sniffed at the air.
“I smell meat!” Junsu cried, popping his head out of the window after the most recent stop on their schedule.
Taec shoved his way over to a side seat, ready to run out first and claim whatever was cooking first. Unfortunately, there was a crowd when they stopped, blocking their way to the nearest restaurant that held their cravings. Taec made a sort of groaned sound and Chansung looked like a puppy, eyes sad as he let his gaze go above the crowd to the sign at the front of the restaurant they would enter for lunch. Junho sat angrily, eyes flat as he waited to be ushered out of the car. If he was going to put on his trademark smile, it’d be for the fans once he stepped out. As far as he was concerned, his stomach wasn’t having it, and the beam of light on his face could wait to be lit up. The door opened, and all of them were new people, bursting with life and trying to meander through the crowd as quickly as possible.
“Okay bye!” Woo said.
He was inside now and waving through the window toward some fans. Of course they squealed, carried on like it was the end of the world, and proceeded to cry or shake when he winked or smiled at them. He was stepping back slowly, joining the others as they went toward a table, and turned around, letting his words fade out one by one.
“See you!” Wave. “Thank you!” Turn. Nod. Make a heart shape above head. More screams. “…ugh, this is tiring.” He clung back to Khun and he could see flashes of various cameras reflected behind them. “Yeah…they’re recording again-“
“Woo-“
“What?”
“I need to eat with that arm.”
“…right.”
He let go, but not before he looked around for Junsu and made sure to sit at the opposite end of the table.
For reasons of privacy, they were given a room to themselves, with two waiters coming in and out to bring their drinks and food. First some side dishes and then their main courses. It was peaceful, nearly silent, and smelled amazing (as opposed to their earlier car ride). They were all packing in, Junsu, Junho and Khun on one side, and Taec, Chansung and Woo facing them.
“Hey Woo,” Khun whispered, “let me show you a trick.”
Khun sat across from him and dug into his dish, picking out a small, saucy piece of meat with his chopsticks. He held them tightly together and then spun them between his digits like a pencil. When they’d reached the last two digits, he stopped them abruptly, and the tiny, slippery piece of meat flew into his mouth.
“Cool! Oh! Nice one Khun! …let me try…” Woo began to dig into his own plate. “…hang on…I think I can do this.”
“If you can’t, don’t try. It’s hard-“
“No. I got this!”
Woo found a nice piece of meat and pushed it to the side of his bowl. He did a few practice spins of the pair of chopsticks in his hand and smiled at Khun assuredly, all memory of being chastised earlier now in the back of his mind. He finally pinched the meat between his chopsticks.
“Okay…I’ll do it on three!” he whispered.
The rest of the table stared at the two of them oddly. They were like four large cows chewing cud in a pasture, waiting for something to happen. It was a slow, lazy chew and they watched to see if Woo would do the trick. Even Junsu tried to forget how he’d wrecked his electronics, finding a morbid joy in seeing him fail and having it land on his clothes.
“One…two…”
When he said three, the chopsticks spun. Okay, so far so good. And then he stopped them abruptly, just as Khun had. It was working thus far. The only part of miscalculation Woo had was which way the chopsticks had the meat slide out. His mouth was open, but the elusive piece of meat decided to find it’s way to Junsu’s cheek, the trail down his chest and across one of his treasured, black tanks, and finally finding it’s resting place in the nook of Junsu’s pants.
It set off a chain reaction.
“I’m going to kill you!”
“I’m sorry!”
Woo already wrapped himself around the table, going to hide behind a chuckling Khun. Junsu jumped up to get to him, hitting a glass on the table in his effort to get to Woo. It poured water across the table, wetting Junho’s pants in the crotch area. Chan jumped up quick enough, but he hit the chopstick that was settled on his kimchi side dish. The red piece of cabbage flew onto Khun, Taec ducking in the process and he not being able to bend back out of the way as Junsu and Woo wrestled behind him. A few pasty spots of red pepper flake hit his eye as the larger chunks of cabbage plastered themselves to his hair. As he reached over for Woo’s glass of water, wanting to wash out his eyes before they began to swell too much, he kicked Taec in the face, who’d remained slightly bent after he avoided the cabbage. Taec fell toward Chan’s side with a groan, a few drops of blood coming off of his split lip.
“Khun!”
“Sorry! I can’t see!”
“Junsu let go!”
“No!”
Woo was in a headlock on the ground, Junsu’s knees locked around his head. Chansung just sat back and observed. The two of them spun around in a circle on the floor, like an odd-looking helicopter, Khun was splashing his face like he was in a skin cleanser commercial, Junho had his hands on his hips and yelled at an unobservant Junsu about how his pants could only be dry-cleaned, Taec cursed in English and Chansung just…sat.
Then, he started to laugh.
The room grew deathly quiet, as everyone stopped their movements and looked at him. There was rage in their eyes. Taec sat up and licked at his lip.
“You think this is funny?” he asked.
“No. No, um…” Chan snorted. “Well…okay guys come on! No one finds it a little funny? I mean…what are the chances of-“
Taec grabbed at a bowl of pickled cucumbers.
“Taec what are you doing? …come on it was-“ Smack. “-funny.”
Chansung looked down at the bowl cupped to his chest and lifted it off, the cucumbers and their juice trailing down it.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re right. It is funny Chan.”
The room became quiet again, until Chansung dove for the kimchi.
---
Their managers later explained to the awaiting cluster of people that they were covered head to toe in remnants of food for an upcoming show.
That show never aired.
At their next stop, Wooyoung clung to Khun for dear life, evading Junsu at every turn. He hoped the distraction of food would calm him for the time being until they got home, and could finally breathe when one of his hungriest members sniffed at the air.
“I smell meat!” Junsu cried, popping his head out of the window after the most recent stop on their schedule.
Taec shoved his way over to a side seat, ready to run out first and claim whatever was cooking first. Unfortunately, there was a crowd when they stopped, blocking their way to the nearest restaurant that held their cravings. Taec made a sort of groaned sound and Chansung looked like a puppy, eyes sad as he let his gaze go above the crowd to the sign at the front of the restaurant they would enter for lunch. Junho sat angrily, eyes flat as he waited to be ushered out of the car. If he was going to put on his trademark smile, it’d be for the fans once he stepped out. As far as he was concerned, his stomach wasn’t having it, and the beam of light on his face could wait to be lit up. The door opened, and all of them were new people, bursting with life and trying to meander through the crowd as quickly as possible.
“Okay bye!” Woo said.
He was inside now and waving through the window toward some fans. Of course they squealed, carried on like it was the end of the world, and proceeded to cry or shake when he winked or smiled at them. He was stepping back slowly, joining the others as they went toward a table, and turned around, letting his words fade out one by one.
“See you!” Wave. “Thank you!” Turn. Nod. Make a heart shape above head. More screams. “…ugh, this is tiring.” He clung back to Khun and he could see flashes of various cameras reflected behind them. “Yeah…they’re recording again-“
“Woo-“
“What?”
“I need to eat with that arm.”
“…right.”
He let go, but not before he looked around for Junsu and made sure to sit at the opposite end of the table.
For reasons of privacy, they were given a room to themselves, with two waiters coming in and out to bring their drinks and food. First some side dishes and then their main courses. It was peaceful, nearly silent, and smelled amazing (as opposed to their earlier car ride). They were all packing in, Junsu, Junho and Khun on one side, and Taec, Chansung and Woo facing them.
“Hey Woo,” Khun whispered, “let me show you a trick.”
Khun sat across from him and dug into his dish, picking out a small, saucy piece of meat with his chopsticks. He held them tightly together and then spun them between his digits like a pencil. When they’d reached the last two digits, he stopped them abruptly, and the tiny, slippery piece of meat flew into his mouth.
“Cool! Oh! Nice one Khun! …let me try…” Woo began to dig into his own plate. “…hang on…I think I can do this.”
“If you can’t, don’t try. It’s hard-“
“No. I got this!”
Woo found a nice piece of meat and pushed it to the side of his bowl. He did a few practice spins of the pair of chopsticks in his hand and smiled at Khun assuredly, all memory of being chastised earlier now in the back of his mind. He finally pinched the meat between his chopsticks.
“Okay…I’ll do it on three!” he whispered.
The rest of the table stared at the two of them oddly. They were like four large cows chewing cud in a pasture, waiting for something to happen. It was a slow, lazy chew and they watched to see if Woo would do the trick. Even Junsu tried to forget how he’d wrecked his electronics, finding a morbid joy in seeing him fail and having it land on his clothes.
“One…two…”
When he said three, the chopsticks spun. Okay, so far so good. And then he stopped them abruptly, just as Khun had. It was working thus far. The only part of miscalculation Woo had was which way the chopsticks had the meat slide out. His mouth was open, but the elusive piece of meat decided to find it’s way to Junsu’s cheek, the trail down his chest and across one of his treasured, black tanks, and finally finding it’s resting place in the nook of Junsu’s pants.
It set off a chain reaction.
“I’m going to kill you!”
“I’m sorry!”
Woo already wrapped himself around the table, going to hide behind a chuckling Khun. Junsu jumped up to get to him, hitting a glass on the table in his effort to get to Woo. It poured water across the table, wetting Junho’s pants in the crotch area. Chan jumped up quick enough, but he hit the chopstick that was settled on his kimchi side dish. The red piece of cabbage flew onto Khun, Taec ducking in the process and he not being able to bend back out of the way as Junsu and Woo wrestled behind him. A few pasty spots of red pepper flake hit his eye as the larger chunks of cabbage plastered themselves to his hair. As he reached over for Woo’s glass of water, wanting to wash out his eyes before they began to swell too much, he kicked Taec in the face, who’d remained slightly bent after he avoided the cabbage. Taec fell toward Chan’s side with a groan, a few drops of blood coming off of his split lip.
“Khun!”
“Sorry! I can’t see!”
“Junsu let go!”
“No!”
Woo was in a headlock on the ground, Junsu’s knees locked around his head. Chansung just sat back and observed. The two of them spun around in a circle on the floor, like an odd-looking helicopter, Khun was splashing his face like he was in a skin cleanser commercial, Junho had his hands on his hips and yelled at an unobservant Junsu about how his pants could only be dry-cleaned, Taec cursed in English and Chansung just…sat.
Then, he started to laugh.
The room grew deathly quiet, as everyone stopped their movements and looked at him. There was rage in their eyes. Taec sat up and licked at his lip.
“You think this is funny?” he asked.
“No. No, um…” Chan snorted. “Well…okay guys come on! No one finds it a little funny? I mean…what are the chances of-“
Taec grabbed at a bowl of pickled cucumbers.
“Taec what are you doing? …come on it was-“ Smack. “-funny.”
Chansung looked down at the bowl cupped to his chest and lifted it off, the cucumbers and their juice trailing down it.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re right. It is funny Chan.”
The room became quiet again, until Chansung dove for the kimchi.
---
Their managers later explained to the awaiting cluster of people that they were covered head to toe in remnants of food for an upcoming show.
That show never aired.