Make me wanna live | Woosan (English version)

Small steps

 After what seemed like an eternity, Wooyoung heard the door of the car open.

"Here I am, sorry, I've had rehearsal till now."

San catapulted into the car, his hair tousled and his lips swollen. Wooyoung looked away.

"You don't have to apologize, I'm here for you," having said that he started the engine. "Did the rehearsal go well?"

"Yes, I've learned a very interesting new method to better preserve my voice on tour."

"I'm glad to hear that," Wooyoung said. He didn't add anything else; he didn't feel much like talking, and evidently neither did San, since he didn't say a word the whole way.

When they arrived at San's apartment, Wooyoung realized that the singer was fast asleep. He had evidently run out of the day's batteries. Wooyoung gently shook him.

"San, wake up, you're home."

San slowly opened his eyes. "...Wow, you drive really well. I never fall asleep in the car..."

Wooyoung smiled tenderly.

"Thanks for the ride, I'll go straight to sleep now."

"After dinner, you mean?"

"Ah, no, I don't think I have the strength to wait for the delivery. At this hour it will take at least forty minutes of waiting. I'll eat tomorrow."

Well, this was too much. "But you haven't eaten all day! You can't wait for tomorrow, it's not good for your health. I don't even know how you got through a day like this with only one sugar-free coffee in your system."

Evidently Wooyoung had let his exasperation slip through in that speech, because San looked at him as if he had grown two heads. But what could he do? He had grown up with a grandmother who always made a scene if he didn't take two portions of every meal, which was also why he had struggled with a few extra pounds on his waist as a teen, but he was firmly convinced that eating was not only a physiological need, but also a need of the spirit.

"...Wooyoung, don't worry, I'm used to it."

"That's the problem! It's absurd that you are used to not eating for an entire day. Don't you realize that this is unnatural and wrong? You are a skeleton! Besides, what's the delivery got to do with it? Don't you have any food in your house?"

"What — a skeleton? I could get you fired for that. Besides, I have little and nothing in the fridge, I can't cook."

"Then get me fired tomorrow if you want, but tonight I'll show you that with 'little and nothing' you can cook a dish worthy of a restaurant. I'm a very good cook."

San seemed shocked at the turn the conversation had taken. "...Wooyoung, that's not necessary, and also you should go home, your workday ends when you bring me back here."

"My job is to take care of you, so I can't let you pass out from low blood sugar as soon as you wake up tomorrow," then he added softly, "Come on, can't you let me do this just this once? I had a bag hit me in the face and nails planted in my back for you today."

"...I think you still haven't figured out exactly what the manager's job consists of...", but after a while he added, "All right... go ahead then... I guess I'll have to trust star chef Jung on this one and let him create a poem from the little food I have in my fridge... but know that if I don't like it, I'll have Kai call you out tomorrow, a manager can't be this bossy to an artist."

Just hearing the mention of "Kai" and thinking back to the scene on the stairs, Wooyoung felt a sense of uneasiness, but he pushed it back. After all, he could still consider San's response a small victory, and at least he would have had dinner. So much for the swollen face and all that nonsense that "Kai" had surely instilled in him.