Silence. As Junmyeon sunk deeper into his bath, that was all he heard. Not one camera shutter, not one excited shout, not one phone call. He felt like he was able to breath for the first time, and the air that he was taking in smelled like fresh jasmine and cocoa butter. He sighed, his chin dipping into the aromatic bubbles. Every sore muscle in his body was relaxing and his eyelids were becoming heavier. All of his sleepless nights caught up to him in one moment and he couldn't tell if what he was thinking was a memory or a dream.

It was still silent where his mind drifted to. He had headphones on, and he was waiting for sound. One hand was twisting a knob of a safe's lock, slowly, carefully trying to find the right combination. His first heist. On the other side of that tiny metal door was twenty million dollars, and his future. A click resonated softly in his ears. He had solved the combination in record time, if there was such a record amongst underground criminals. His payment was 50 percent, ten million cash to a twenty year old who hadn't finished highschool and before that moment, before that first click, had no plans for survival. The man that had hired him was his uncle, who promised to get him more connections and more jobs. So with the ten million he got himself out of his parents house and into a penthouse in the middle of the city, dyed his hair blond and began to walk around like he owned everything because he didn't know better. 

He was impossible to ignore. Fresh faced and filthy rich, he couldn't help but attract attention. When he went out, people wanted to be near him. In the clubs, at restaurants, even in clothing stores the employees would surround him and try to sell him their products. And though he was young he realized something very important. His popularity was the key to keeping his reality a secret. If he remained constantly in the limelight, nobody could suspect him. He waited for the initial wave of questioning to pass before he stepped into the dark again. His uncle had spread the word about his prodigy nephew who could "open the national treasury with nothing more than his headphones and his hands," so work came to him. Junmyeon smartly changed his name though, for the sake of keeping his two worlds separate, and never showed his clients his face. After a few years, exchanging of hand written letters became his signature, because paper could be easily destroyed and couldn't be traced since he never gave an address. His uncle was conveniently killed in a gang shooting not long after Junmyeon became established, the only knowledge of Junmyeon's true self dying with him. 

And so that was how Junmyeon lived. Everybody and nobody knew him. 

It was his head slipping under the surface of the water that brought him back to the present. His bath had gone cold, the bubbles had popped, and the sweet scent of flowers and the beach had completely dissipated. He lifted himself out, wrapping a luxuriously soft towel around his waist, eyeing himself in the full length mirror that he passed on his way out of the bathroom. His dark circles had begun to fade since he stopped working. He did decide that he needed to start working out though. His toned legs from constant running would not stay that way themselves. He was done running. 

He thought about going out, but he didn't want to waste the feeling of being so clean so instead he pulled a chair up in front of the balcony and looked out at the city. He couldn't go oustide because it was too loud, and all he wanted was quiet. No sirens, no clicks. As he scanned the glimmering lights that were on display below him, he caught something else that was shining inside the room that he hadn't noticed before.

It was a gold envelope, shimmering as it reflected the city lights. Junmyeon circled around it cautiously. He did not remember receiving it,  but it was addressed to him in scrawly cursive lettering. The person hadn't used him underground name, Suho, but instead wrote out his full name, Kim Junmyeon. Maybe it was an invitation. But something about it was putting Junmyeon off. He picked it up, not sure what he expected to happen. Nothing did, so he opened it and pulled out a card with one line in the middle of it in more gold.

"National Museum-The Necklaces and Weapons. I know that you will not refuse me."

On the bottom right corner, written boldly, were the words, THE EXO PROJECT, and the initials, CL. 

His heart sped up, and his fingers twitched. He dropped the letter, running to the sliding glass door that opened to the balcony. It was still locked. He began to panic as he rushed to the front door to his apartment, which he was sure was also locked. Anxiously, he pushed down on the handle, willing it not to turn, but knowing that it would. The door swung open. 

He sank to his knees, picking up another little white card which had been left behind on the floor. In the same handwriting, it read,

"Thought the king of locks would have been more careful about his own front door. -CL"

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I thought I'd open up with just a bit of backstory... What do you think? 
I'm actually really excited about this fic and so you should be too lol but honestly it's going to be really good ok thank you for reading!