In which Jongins stomach learns a thing or two about butterflies. ForewordJongin had always known that Kyungsoo was a little incredible. It never ceased to amaze him, the way this tiny, kind of dazed looking kid would open his mouth to sing something, and then when he was done just smile sleepily while the whole world choked on whatever it was drinking. For Kim Jongin, it was a can of iced tea from the convenience store across the street, in a poorly air-conditioned practice studio, on Do Kyungsoo’s first day.