PROJECT: SEVENTEEN. seventeen au

PROJECT: SEVENTEEN-recruitment

The world is big. and bad.

Most people dont believe in that. Probably because they view the world as a heaven of sorts, where life is all rainbows and sunshine and frolicking puppies. Whoever believes in that are liars. Fools. Their eyes are guarded to the truth and what life truly has to offer. For evil is everywhere-down in the streets, lurking around the corner, waiting for its prey. And a certain force must drive that evil out.

That is why, in Emilia's opinion, these missions are important.

She thinks this as she blends in with a vast crowd of parents and teachers and adults alike, cramped inside a school's stuffy auditorium while they watch four boys have an intellectual argument in a debate. She thinks this as the smell of putrid smoke encircles her like mist, feet planted atop of a gravelly ground while she watches a street magician quickly snatch a passerby's wallet at one side and as blood spills from the fists of gangsters on another.

She thinks this while neon colours flourish around her like the sunlight, electric music drowned out in the ecstatic yelling of four friends beating a personal best yet again. Well, more like hacking into the system so they could cheat their way into the highest ranks. She thinks this once she's back home, staring down on thirteen different folders on a rainy Sunday dawn, white light illuminating the uncontrollable grin on her face.

"You sure you want them, boss?" a figure asks beside her. It's a girl, with short, choppy black hair and pointy ears that stick out. "Theyre an interesting bunch."

Emilia nods. "Yes, I'm a hundred percent positive."

The figure could only nod as they slink away, into the shadows. It was ready. She'd already gone through the files a million of times, never getting sick of the faces who would soon be accomplishing their next mission. Emilia was excited-too excited, honestly.

Miss Jane asks her the same question over the phone a few hours later. "Are you sure this is the final lineup for your project?"

"Yes, I'm sure," the girl replied, already smiling at her plan, which was going smoothly. "Besides, I'm still going to do a little screening, and we'll see who's gonna stick around after that."

Emilia could feel Miss Jane nodding through the call. "Alright, then. If that's what you want."

"Good luck."

Emilia smiled, bidding her senior goodbye. She smiled. She wouldn't need that anymore.

Because luck was always on her side.

Three phones ring simultaneously in three places: a run-down barber shop, an old diner, and a comfortably furnished internet cafe.

"Huh?" two boys look up from where they played a game of billiards, pausing to reach for their phone instead of hitting the next ball. They look around the diner, confused, then at each other.

"Hey, Kwan...you think I should pick this up?" the taller of the two boys quietly asks. The other, much smaller boy-or Seungkwan-nervously eyes the ringing phone.

"Yeah, go ahead, Gyu," he clears his throat, shifting around. "I mean, Seungcheol would probably get mad if we didn't."

As the two did a small debate on whether or not to answer it, the pair of teens at the table beside Seungkwan and Mingyu were startled as well, pausing their game of chess.

"Seungkwan, go pick that up," one of them said, gesturing to the telephone ringing furiously. He was the one Seungkwan called Seungcheol, and judging by the tone of his voice and the way the two boys at the billiard table responded, he was definitely the oldest. Seungcheol kept an eye on his friend, who reluctantly picked up the ringing phone.

The boy across Seungcheol snickered, taking a sip from his cup of tea. "I wonder who called at this early hour?"

Seungcheol tears his gaze away from Seungkwan and Mingyu. He laughs, moves forward his king, and flashes his friend a small smile. "Checkmate. Let's hope it's not your mom, Soonyoung."

At the same time, a vintage telephone rang throughout a small, run-down barber shop, smelling of old books and leather boots. The tiny machine grabs the attention of five boys who occupied the space.

A boy with auburn hair at the barber chair was the first to notice. "Hey, answer the phone," he says, glancing at his friend inspecting his helmet across him- black mullet and scowl and all. He'd stopped to look at the ringing phone as well. "Eight, can you go get it?"

Eight snorts and tosses his helmet to the side. "You were the first to see it, idiot, so why not spare some time and answer it yourself?"

Aside from his helmet, a deck of cards sat undisturbed on his lap. This fuckin' magician, Jeonghan rolls his eyes, summoning an ace without even standing up. "Ah, my little Eight-don't talk to your elders like that. I won't get you dinner tonight. And you know, I was thinking-you can't just earn money by performing as a street magician. You oughta perform as a street magician and lie, cheat, steal people's money-"

"Is that the phone ringing?" the boy fixing his hair paused. His friend on the tattered leather recliner snorted, face hidden behind a newspaper. "No, it's Eight's helmet ringing. Of course the damned phone's ringing, Wonwoo," said the small boy, slowly tearing his eyes away from the newspaper and focusing on the phone despite showing his lack of interest for it.

Wonwoo shrugs. "Don't blame me, Jihoon. Not my fault that I haven't heard it ring in years."

Then the other boy beside Jeonghan coughs awkwardly, shifting on his motorcycle's seat. "So. Are we gonna pick it up?" he looks around and focuses on Eight. "Ya. Jeonghan-hyung told you to pick it up first."

Pursing his lips, Eight rolls his eyes with a lazy smile, already lollygagging towards the phone. Though his words were sarcastic, a small smile remained on his face. "You really are the worst, Seokmin!"

Not far from where two phones rang synchronously, a third phone began ringing too. This time, it was a small telephone with a clear body and a pink base that glowed when it rang.

A group of four boys in a twenty-four hour computer shop paused whatever they were doing, staring at the telephone singing its digital, singsong-y tune. The one with swept locks of brown hair didn't budge from his position on the couch. "Go answer that, Sol."

The boy at his computer didn't bother to turn around. "We're playing tekken, hold up." Hansol called out, aggressively pressing keys. He grabs a popcorn from the bowl beside him and tosses it in the air, catching it perfectly in his mouth. "Hey Dino? Mind being a good friend?"

"Aw man, fuck you!" comes a reply from the recliner. It's their youngest friend, hauling himself up from the couch and groaning at the way they all laughed at him. He cast a glance at his older friends before moving his hand to the telephone.

Junhui gave the duo playing tekken a glance. "I'm giving you a minute to pause that game, you forkheads. If it's your moms who's calling I swear I'm gonna tell them to never let you into my café-"

"Yes, yes, alright! Here we go," the two sigh, and they reluctantly swivelled in their seats to watch Dino pick up the phone. Dino moves, hand itching to answer the call-

"Wait, wait!" the boy beside Hansol countered. He moved to pick up the telephone, gentle hands patting Dino away, "You never know who this is. We rarely get a call these days-and from this phone? Ah, we never know. So leave it up to me-I gotta protect our youngest."

They erupt in laughter, with Hansol flashing a very toothy smile. "You sound fake as hell. You're just scared of never getting free food in here, Jisoo-hyung."

And as the three phones were answered simultaneously, it gave the three groups of boys the same message in a robotic, inhuman voice:

Come meet me at Building 7, Block Thirteen, 12 P.M. Failure to accomplish said task will result in elimination for your position in Project: Seventeen.