Faceless Idol (Namjin)

Chapter 1

Namjoon hadn't meant to go on a walk that day. It wasn't even nice weather. It was cloudy and cold and winter still had a firm hand wrapped around Korea and those who lived there. There was no snow yet – and for that Namjoon was glad. He was bundled up as it was. He wasn't one to feel particularly cold when the weather started to turn and get a bit nippy but today was colder in his bones than most other days. Maybe it was because he had lost so much weight for his last big music promotion.

And yet, even as the trees swayed with a cold biting wind, Namjoon found himself outside, snuggled down into his too large coat, and making his way down the river walk to simply get some fresh air. It was a good choice. He had been in his studio for far too long and the other men in his group were becoming an ever more pressing distraction. They were all tired and sick of being with each other 24/7 even if they couldn't get away from each other but for an hour at a time. Some alone times was better than no alone time at all and it showed as Namjoon walked along the concrete path. He felt some of his tensions slip away and almost felt them float past him, down the river and out of sight.

And so Namjoon made his way, watching some children who seemed to have the same mind as he, rush about, yelling at each other with playful words as they bounded across the bridges over the water or played on the sidewalks with colored chalk and even some who decided that the open cold air would be a nice place to play a quick game of tag as there was hardly anyone out. And why would anyone be out in such weather? It was bone chillingly numb in the cold breeze. And yet even though it was cold, the wind brought something quite unexpected to Namjoon.

It started as a voice. A sweet voice of a man that was higher in pitch but flowed up and down almost like the river currents. And when Namjoon let his eyes follow his path ahead he could see a small gathering of young adults and teenagers and even some older people and small children standing around in a nearby park. That was when Namjoon heard the sound of guitar strings coupled with a soft melody. It was faint but became stronger as Namjoon drew closer.

Street performers were nothing new to Namjoon. They performed around Seoul quite often and Namjoon would hear them and smile and remember his own past and the days of his youth when he had rapped as an underground rapper until he had finally made his way to an agency and debuted as the leader of his own band. But there was something different about this performer. Most men and women on the street held a good deal of talent but it was raw and unharnessed no matter how hard they tried. Namjoon could see it in their dances and voices even if he could not dance well himself. Namjoon could, however, sing and not for lack of trying. It had taken him a long time and many years of practice to be able to even carry a tune and he knew good singing when he heard it given the fact that he was surrounded most of the day by professional singers.

But this voice that came to him through the cold of winter and down the river was nothing short of angelic and Namjoon just had to get a look at the person singing. It was with quick feet and long strides that he finally made his way to the very back of the small group gathered around in the December air. It was almost a mindless decision to seek the performer out – as if the person's voice had commanded Namjoon's legs to move and seek him out. And as it was, he found himself where the crowd of people were. Namjoon was a tall man by most local standards but even he could not get a good look at the person playing and singing. There were just a few too many people in his way. And so Namjoon moved off to the other side of the singer – the side facing his back where there were less people.

Namjoon caught a glimpse of thin layers of clothing and a man sitting straight backed on a small stool with nothing but a worn guitar perched on his legs. The man didn't even have a hat on his head and Namjoon knew he must've been terribly cold. He didn't even have a nice long jacket or coat – all he had was a dark blue long sleeve shirt on and a pair of thread-worn skinny jeans to keep him warm in the frost of winter. There was nothing else with him either except his battered guitar case. It was open and set out in front of him and Namjoon heard him play a bit louder when some of the younger couples and small children would throw coins into it to pay him for his troubles and his song.