#bassists support their drummers 💖💖

[rexscanonwife]

I've had a headache today so I've very much been Girl Who Lays Down but I'm still thinking about Wamen 🥺💖💖💖

[glowclovd]

hi!! hello 💌

i'm posting a new fic on ao3. it's fame au and a texting and narrative fic, it has james and regulus pretending to be boyfriends even tho they don't get along, sirius being a supportive friend and brother, bassist remus, drummer peter, guitarist marlene more !! please check it out. 🥺💖

while your lips are still red by ohmygansey.

[restlessmaknae]

messy hearts, messy chords

➳ You just happen to be at the wrong place in the wrong time; meaning that you get punched in the face instead of someone else in a literal band battle, but it’s not only you who’s hurting that night.

♪ Characters: punk-rock band member!Yeonjun x reader/you

♪ Genre: punk-rock musician au, band au, angst, slow-burn

♪ Words: 10k

♪ A/N: I had the idea for this story about a year ago, but with 0X1=Lovesong coming out and having punk-rock band vibes, I was hit with all the inspiration I needed! Hope you love it just as much as I do! 💖

♪ P.S.: If you’re curious about the other band that’s mentioned in the story, you can check out Ten’s, Juyeon’s or Hwiyoung’s story here, but it’s optional. They are only loosely connected, so all the stories can be read on their own. 💖

♪ Click here to be added to the TAGLIST and to let me know about your fic preferences. 💖

Choi Yeonjun often thought that life was like a chess game: full of black and white spots, wise and well-thought decisions mixed in with abrupt, desperate ones, and when one was about to believe that they would win the round, the opponent made a devastating move, and there was no hope of winning for a long time ‒ or more like, forever. Yeonjun found himself on the ground so many times, won over by the evil twists of fate, darkness engulfing him, that he didn’t know whether he would be able to win any round, whether he even wanted to.

He had been a loser whom no one had wanted. He had been an orphan because his parents had left him behind without any explanation when he had been 3, so he had no recollection of his parents (maybe it was for the better now). He had been adopted by a couple when he had been 13, but it had soon turned out that the couple had wanted a perfect, well-behaving son who would make the family name proud, not a hopeless kid who had never been interested in studying, not even daring to hope to make it into college, so why care about studying?

His adoptive parents had fought more than they had talked gently to each other, and slowly, he had realised that it had been better if he had just pretended that he hadn’t heard them or hadn’t taken notice of the tension between the two of them. The only reason they had let him stay had been because of the supplementary money the government had given them for raising an orphan, and the only reason he had stayed had been because he had had nowhere else to go, and he hadn’t turned an adult yet. After he had turned an adult, he had planned how and when to move out, but what he had earned while having a part-time job during his high school days hadn’t been enough for a fresh start, so he had needed to wait and work even more.

The only ray of hope in his life had been music. He had learned how to play the guitar at the orphanage because some kid had left a guitar behind, and he had learned the basics from another kid, then he had self-taught himself when he had gotten out of the orphanage. He had found it easier to write his feelings out in lyrics than in journals, and he hadn’t even dared to think about his voice being any good, but his high school music teacher had been so pleased with him that she had made him join the choir. That’s where he had met Beomgyu and Hueningkai, the ones with whom he had created Gen Z Tragedy, a punk-rock band singing about the struggles of their generation, Hueningkai being their drummer, Beomgyu their bassist and back vocalist and Yeonjun being the lead vocalist and rhythmic guitarist.

Initially, Yeonjun hadn’t wanted to give in, but his adoptive parents hadn’t cared about him by that point anyway, so he could have easily sneaked out to band practices. Luckily, the other two guys’ parents had been supportive, and Hueningkai’s father had been a musician, so they had had a studio where they could have practiced and recorded songs.

He had never dared to dream big or to hope for a bright future because a part of him had always been afraid of losing, of failure, of the bittersweet twists and turns of destiny, but with Gen Z Tragedy, he had dared to hope. His hopes were crushed one more time when it turned out that their newly accepted bassist had lied to them, betraying his previous band.

“Look, let me explain!”

Jung Wooyoung’s pleading was very much necessary given that the Gen Z Tragedy members including Hueningkai, Beomgyu and Yeonjun had to learn that Wooyoung had been a part of a previous band for five years, and he had left them behind to join Gen Z Tragedy ‒ meaning that he had left without a proper explanation, the other band getting to know about his audition once he had passed.

Yeonjun snorted, the kind of snort that was both frustrated and angry. Despite Hueningkai’s seemingly calm demeanor and Beomgyu’s quiet suspicion, Yeonjun knew that they both felt the same way: they felt betrayed. As the oldest and the leader of the band, he felt like it was his responsibility to make things clear. Even if it meant having an argument in front of a handful of other people; eager eyes at the bar where they had been previously against four other instrumental bands, hoping to win a local band battle. Now it seemed that they had more important issues than being concerned about missing a beat or winning over their rivals ‒ one of those rivals being Wooyoung’s previous band: Rebel Rhapsody.

“You know, we didn’t ask a lot of questions when we held the audition because we didn’t want to get too personal,” Yeonjun started, his voice dangerously low and raspy. “I know all too well that it could get too burdensome, so we didn’t want to know who raised you or what shaped you as a person. Yet, I believe it’s basic decency to tell people you would want to trust you something like leaving behind a band, and choosing us over them.”

Yeonjun could feel his voice rising, but he didn’t want to hold himself back. Not when he had been kicked to the ground, being trampled upon, and fooled too many times. He hadn’t given away his trust as easily as if it had been a free sample at a beauty story. His heart was frozen, and only his band members could get close to melting it, but now Wooyoung had just managed to break a part of the icy surface, forever leaving a scar.

“Look, I just wanted to start afresh.” Wooyoung held his hands up high as if he was trying to defend himself from a physical fight, then let his hands fall by his side when he saw nothing but Yeonjun’s unwavering gaze and stiff body. “I wanted to make it big, and you guys seemed like a good fit for my ambitions. Or you don’t actually want to make it big? Is winning this local band battle the biggest dream of yours?”

Hueningkai’s eyes widened in shock, the ever so joyful smile long erased from his now solemn expression. Beside him, Beomgyu looked like he was about to say something, but he gazed in their leader’s direction before doing so, and Yeonjun’s facial expression made him stop dead in his tracks. The boy was fuming, fury painting wrinkles across his forehead, his lips trembling ‒ a warning that he was trying to contain whatever that was going through his body, but he was close to erupting.

That’s how they stood face to face in the mass of the crowd, some curious eyes still trained on them while others had already left the scene, assuming that it was more of their personal matter than theirs. Yeonjun wished that the Rebel Rhapsody members would have been there to witness just what kind of a boy their previous member was ‒ to not feel any remorse over his lack of participation because he wasn’t worth it. He was too selfish and greedy for his own good.

“It’s not about what we want to do in the future, but about how you left a band behind. Is this what awaits us when we are no longer what you want to use for your own selfish purposes?” Yeonjun exclaimed, taking a step closer to the boy. “Is it really that easy for you to abandon someone?” Another step closer. “Do you not care how much damage you may leave behind? How much pain?” He was so close to Wooyoung by this point that he could see the curls of his eyelashes, and he could see the tremble of the boy’s lips. He was no longer the confident, goofy boy. He was at his guillotine, waiting for his verdict, but instead of begging for a second chance, he let out a sinister laugh.

A laugh that seemed like the final bullet into the boy’s already destroyed heart. There was no more place for wounds for it was full of holes already, not even half of it was left untouched. He was bleeding out dry, and Wooyoung wasn’t even trying to stop the bleeding.

“So what now? Do you want to make me go back to my previous band, asking for their forgiveness? I’ve thought you don’t want to get too personal,” he repeated the boy’s previous words, and he was purposefully riling Yeonjun up, he could feel it from the way the twitches in his lips weren’t out of fear, but of mockery. He was unbelievable. Just because he had grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth, he shouldn’t have taken everything for granted, and he shouldn’t have belittled people’s feelings and their commitments to each other.

“If you want to be the cause of your own misery, so be it! But don’t you drag others down with you,” Yeonjun spitted furiously, his rage going off the roof, and with one abrupt thought, he lurched himself forwards and punched the boy in the face.

Or so he thought.

Wooyoung must have been expecting that punch because he quickly stepped sideways, so whom he actually punched was a very much dumbfounded girl: you. You were just trying to maneuver yourself between the sweaty bodies, leaving work after your shift had ended as a waitress, not paying too much attention to the conversations around you, not even when it got particularly heated.

So maybe that was partly your fault and partly that guy’s who had managed to avoid being punched in the face, but it didn’t mean that it hurt any less.

“Damn. Are you okay?” The pitch-black haired boy who had managed to punch you judged by the way he was so quick to go up to you inquired, eyes ‒ that were just as dark as his hair and his whole aura ‒ shining out of worry. Two boys by his side were seemingly just as concerned as he was, the slightly curly-haired one even having a hand over his heart and the other at his mouth as if he had nearly gotten a heart attack.

“Yeah, sure,” you said automatically, but when you reached for your nose and held your fingers in front of your face, you could see blood dripping from your hands, and you shivered at the sight.

“Should we get some ice?” The third boy ‒ one who looked like a manga character with his almost shoulder-length raven hair ‒ was quick to suggest, but you merely waved off his assistance. You were fine, the bleeding would probably stop soon. Not to mention that you really wanted to leave as soon as possible. If this conversation was this heated, you were better off outside anyway.

“I’m fine, really. Continue what you’ve started.” You gestured frantically in their direction, and seeing the little crowd that had already gathered around them (around you), you were ever so quick to leave the scene.

You didn’t even look back while they were calling after you, asking you to stop, but once you were finally outside, you couldn’t keep up your big girl confidence. You reached into your bag, immediately getting hold of two tissues and trying to clean up the mess around your nose. You didn’t feel like it had broken because it wasn’t that painful, it was actually more than bearable, but it was definitely not a pleasant feeling. The boy’s punch must have been well-directed, so he must have been really angry at the other smug-looking one who hadn’t looked like he had been even a tiny bit concerned about you. You had no idea why they had been fighting, but you couldn’t hold a grudge against the one with the pitch-black hair and the pitch-black eyes because he had seemed way more considerate than the other.

Unfortunately, you didn’t really calculate having to look at yourself while cleaning up the blood, and you didn’t want to go back to the bar’s bathroom, so you used your phone’s selfie mode to help you out. You were managing just well when you heard footsteps behind you that were getting closer, and then a voice accompanying them:

“Hey! Please, don’t leave!” The earlier raspy voice asked desperately, and you swung around, facing the boy who came to a halt in front of you. You blinked up at him, both in shame and embarrassment. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel like he had committed a grave sin, and he needed to take care of you. 

“Let me help with that…” He offered, as expected, the gentleness in his tone in drastic comparison to the eternal darkness in his bottomless orbs.

“No, it’s okay.”

“But..” He protested, but you shook your head, not wanting to burden him further. It seemed like he had become caught up in something far worse than your punch, so you didn’t want him to feel bad for you. He looked way too sad already.

“It’s really okay,” you repeated with a hopefully convincing smile, but it wasn’t enough because the boy practically bellowed in the next second:

“Let me just fix my damn mistake!” His voice was desperate, guilt and hurt and remorse lacing his words. His exclamation shook you to the core, and when he caught sight of the fear in your eyes, he took a step back. “Sorry. I… I’m just so used to things not going my way that when I can help it, I desperately want to find a way to make things right.”

From the way he looked and said so, you couldn’t even question his words. He wouldn’t have snapped at you like that if it had been only about being polite. No. He really did want to make things right, he desperately tried to hold onto it: the hope of things turning out better, of the future being brighter than the darkness that he was.

“Okay,” you croaked out, reaching the tissues out to him, so he could help you clean up the blood. The boy’s shoulders dropped in ease, and he took a step closer to you, working diligently on cleaning up the mess. His touches were gentle and a bit hesitant, but he wasn’t wavering or halting ever so frequently, so you had nothing to complain about. Even if he was close to you, he didn’t make it inappropriate, he was only focusing on the area around your nose, he didn’t even look you in the eye.

“I’m truly sorry. I should have been more careful, you really shouldn’t have ended up receiving that punch. I’m really sorry,” he broke the silence after about a minute, and his apology was like a bitter medicine for he shouldn’t have been apologising so much for something like this.

“That other guy seemed to deserve it. Seeing how he didn’t show any remorse, I hope you actually punched him in the face after I left,” you mused out loud, your tone indicating that you weren’t angry at him, and you hoped that he would take it lightly as well.

“I did.” He nodded solemnly, his attention still on your face.

“That’s enough of a fix for your mistake, I guess,” you remarked kindly, and that’s when his lips curled upwards a tiny bit. Not more, not less. It was enough for you though, truly hoping that the guilt would leave his face soon.

The jet-black haired boy finished up in the meantime, throwing away the bloody tissues into the nearby trash can. That’s when he dared to look back at you, like really look at you, and you chose this time to show your gratefulness.

“Thank you,” you confessed sincerely, but either he didn’t believe that he should have been thanked, or he didn’t want to acknowledge the words because his next question didn’t indicate that he truly believed you.

“Let me repay you with something… lunch maybe? Dinner? A coffee?” He suggested, his voice still a bit raspy and deep. It was as if even his tone had been shaped by whatever that had happened in the past. He could have been merely emotional or bitter, but there was something more behind his cold facade: something that was still destroying him from the inside.

“I-” You immediately wanted to protest, but the sadness in his eyes held you back. You thought of his previous outburst, of how he was ever so desperate to fix things, and decided to let him be. “Okay, that sounds alright,” you gave in, suggesting to exchange contacts, so that you could decide on a date and place to meet.

Truth to be told, you didn’t know what else to say to the boy because you didn’t think that you had any right to ask about what had happened back there in the bar that had made him so furious, and he didn’t seem to know what to say either. So you bid your goodbye to him, telling him that you should catch the next bus, and he mumbled something about having to go back to his band members, so you parted ways just as abruptly as you had crossed them earlier that night.

The jet-black haired boy’s name was Yeonjun, and judging by his Kakaotalk profile and his last words to you that night, he was in one of those bands who had performed at the bar. His profile photo was probably taken in a studio because a drum set, three guitars and three microphones were shown with the name ‘Gen Z Tragedy’ in the middle as if it had been an album cover. However, when you next contacted him, his profile photo was changed to one with him, the manga-like boy and the curly-haired one from the bar, the three of them in front of an abandoned building.

You indeed searched them up and found their Youtube channel, social media sites and even a website where one could see that they were about to release their first album soon. You wondered whether his previous profile photo should have been their album cover, but you didn’t want to ponder over the matter since there was no trace of the newly joined smug-looking boy on any of their sites. Could they have wanted to introduce him with the album? Or was the local band battle where they had shown him to the public for the first time?

Anyways, you had a feeling that whatever had happened that night had an impact on the band’s line-up, but since you were more interested in their music, you decided to check out a few of their covers online, some by Western bands like All Time Low, the 1975, the Arctic Monkeys and some by Korean instrumental bands such as DAY6 and The Rose. They had also uploaded a few of their original tracks, and what you had been able to tell from them was that they had raw, sincere songs about growing up, meeting society’s expectations, finding one’s identity and losing hope over and over again. Themes that could have been engraved into Yeonjun’s skin like battle scars, ones that you could easily imagine him singing about with that aura of his. Since you had not paid much attention to the performers while you had been working at the bar, the songs hit harder than you expected, but it was in the best way possible. Their songs were the farthest from artificial, and you appreciated that.

So you could say that you had checked his band out before you met again, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to behave differently around him. In fact, you felt like a layer of understanding had grown between the two of you, it was just that he didn’t know about it until you sat down in an art café, sipping on your choice of drink. You had a caramel latte while he had iced Americano, the contrast between your choices representing you two perfectly.

The atmosphere was awkward at first, he clearly didn’t think it through when he had suggested paying you back because he was quiet apart from the initial greetings and small talk questions, but since it had been him who had suggested this place, you decided to inquire about the reason behind his choice.

“Hueningkai’s father owns this café. He was a musician, and since he retired, he decided to open this café for all the art and music lovers,” he explained briefly, and his answer was enough to prove why this café had such a retro vibe to it with LP records put on the walls, pastel colours chosen over bright, neon ones and sentimental songs being played in the background. “Hueningkai is my friend and the drummer of our band,” he added when it dawned on him that you didn’t know who this boy was.

“Gen Z Tragedy, right?” You asked though you knew the answer to it. Yeonjun nodded, and while you were at the topic, you couldn’t help but inquire about the origin of the band’s name.

“Well, Beomgyu wanted something generation Z-related because he says Hueningkai’s and his behaviour are peak gen Z behaviour, and I’ve suggested something that represents the music we do, so we put it together, and Gen Z Tragedy was born,” he explained thoroughly, and from the way he spoke of the other two members, you could feel just how much they meant to him. If his life was mirroring the lyrics in their songs, his friends must have meant the world to him.

“How do you come up with songs, and how do you arrange them?” You inquired since you were nowhere near familiar with the music industry from the inside, and even though your question could have been too invasive, the boy didn’t mind to talk about his band, he spoke of Gen Z Tragedy fondly, and his whole demeanour changed when he was talking about the members and their team chemistry.

You listened to him attentively, not too taken aback by the fact that the majority of the lyrics was written by him, but both Hueningkai ‒ their drummer ‒ and Beomgyu ‒ their bassist and back vocalist ‒ wrote just as well. Mostly, they arranged the songs together, working in Hueningkai’s father’s old studio. Hueningkai had been taught the whole process by his father, so he could take charge if a problem arose, but both Beomgyu and Yeonjun had learned from him, and now they were all working hard to improve their music. Despite Hueningkai’s father having connections in the industry, their genre was very different from his, plus they wanted to pave the path for themselves.

“And that’s why we were looking for another bassist that could give more power to our songs, and that’s how Wooyoung…” Yeonjun got so caught up in talking about the band that he belatedly realised that he had managed to bring up the topic he had wanted to avoid the most.

He looked away, ashamed and frustrated, but it was enough for you to put the pieces together: of those three guitar sets on his previous profile photo, of the fight at the bar and of the boy who had smiled smugly even though you had been punched instead of him. He had joined them later, and had done something that had made the original three members think twice about having him in the band.

Instead of pressuring the topic, you inquired from him what kind of musicians influenced him the most, and you could immediately see how his shoulders slumped in ease. You had no right to ask him about personal issues, and since that night had been quite messy for the boy, you had seen it for yourself, you didn’t want to pressure him to talk about anything that might make him uncomfortable, but you were genuinely interested in their band, how it had started, whom they looked up to, and what the band meant to them.

You swore you could listen to him for hours because his voice was deep and alluring, and maybe you could have done so because you didn’t even keep track of time. You got to realise that you had been talking for hours only when the slightly curly haired boy came up to your table with a knowing smile.

“Hey~” The so-called Hueningkai singsonged joyfully. “Can I get you something more?” Hueningkai inquired, and as if Yeonjun had woken up from a daze, he shot his friend a pointed look.

“I’ve thought your shift wouldn’t start until 6.”

“It’s already 6, you dummy,” the boy told him teasingly, pointing at the vintage clock on the wall that was representing the keys on a piano, half of the slots for the hours being the white keys and the other half being the black ones. Yeonjun looked at the clock, too, but when he turned back to the table, he nudged his friend in the side instead of acknowledging what he had heard.

“Who do you call a dummy? I’m older than you!”

“Okay, okay, I came with peace!” Hueningkai held his hands up high in the air, admitting his defeat. Yeonjun rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, but you could tell that it was out of fondness, not hate. The chemistry between those two could be felt immediately. “So should I get re-fills for you or do you want something else?” He bobbed his head in your empty glasses’ direction, but both of you were quick to object.

Hueningkai noted it with a pout, but when his eyes found yours, and he realised who you were, his hands flew to his mouth.

“Oh my! Are you okay? How’s your nose?” he asked as worried as if you had been still at the bar, and you could detect Yenjun’s second-hand embarrassment by the way he was trying to cover his face with his hands.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to worry.”

“I’m glad then,” the younger boy mentioned as he let out a long, long sigh. You found it heartwarming how concerned he was even though you two didn’t know each other at all. “Then, you two just randomly met here or…” He started as he averted his eyes from you to his friend’s, confusion and suspicion mingling with his innocent, boyish features.

You exchanged a glance with Yeonjun, and you had a feeling that he wanted to answer this question, so you let him explain to his friend that he tried to pay you back for what he had done by inviting you to some coffee, and he had decided to show you this place because it was the closest to the atmosphere of the music bar where you had been working. At least, it was the same in its theme. Then, the boy waved off his friend’s curious questions about how you had lost track of time, and instead, you both agreed on parting ways much to Hueningkai’s dismay.

However, this time, your heart was lighter than that previous night, and saying goodbye to him wasn’t filled with rage and pain and guilt. Maybe the boy could start realising that not all of his mistakes caused devastation, and that he deserved to have some agony being erased from his already heavy heart.

Yeonjun had completed his payback, so you had no reason to see each other again, but oddly enough, you found yourself thinking about the boy again and again. When the peak hours passed at the bar, you were often left wiping off the counter or filling the fridge with drinks, and your thoughts could easily spiral back to the image of his jet-black locks, his equally jet-black orbs and that ever so faint smile of his that you had only seen once. To the sound of his deep, raspy voice that wasn’t dangerously low like a warning, more like the rain that came to wash away the remains of a thunderstorm. To his heart that was ever so heavy, but it was so full of love for Beomgyu and Hueningkai that you wished that someone could love him back the same. Or even more because he deserved it.

Sometimes, you put on their available songs in your free time, the songs making you feel all sorts of emotions, but most importantly: acceptance. The melodies were familiar by now, the boys’ voices like accompanists to your rather ordinary life, and you realised you wouldn’t have it another way. You were fine just listening to them, hoping for them to succeed even more, if it meant that Yeonjun would feel more comfortable this way.

Two months passed by until you met again because Gen Z Tragedy was performing at the music bar, and you thought of it as a lucky coincidence because all sorts of aspiring musicians were performing at your workplace, so there was no guarantee that they would show up, especially after what had happened last time. Not to mention that the band who had won the local band battle was the one who came by more frequently, and thanks to your co-workers’ up-to-date knowledge with the bands performing there, you got to know that they were called Rebel Rhapsody, and they were the previous band that the so-called Wooyoung had played in. Yet, by now, Wooyoung had been neither in their band or Gen Z Tragedy, so you assumed that he had either opted for other bands or had left the music scene altogether. According to the rumours, he had had a pretty bad fall-out with both bands, and if you had really been wrapped up in their fight, you could understand Yeonjun’s behaviour even more.

That night, the three boys performed a few covers, a few of their original songs that you had already listened to, and one that you were sure you hadn’t heard before. The lines such as ‘if I turn around, eventually, they’ll just end up being an unfamiliar someone’ and ‘as my entire heart burns, I’m afraid that only black ashes will remain’ struck you so hard that you needed to hold onto the counter firmly, grounding yourself. You could practically hear Yeonjun’s voice bleeding amongst the words, a young boy who was scared of being loved, and even though you didn’t know his background story, only what you had been told at the art café and what you could have put together from their lyrics, you had a feeling that he didn’t just act so broken, he was broken.

As the song came to an end, the audience clapped for them and you joined them, heaviness settling in your chest. They bowed a few times before packing away their stuff, and they could have easily left after gathering their stuff and putting it in the staff’s room as every performer could do so while they were there, but a very cheerful Hueningkai hopped down on a bar stool a few minutes later, and asked for a glass of orange juice, only to realise that it was you who would serve him.

So by the time his friends joined him, he had already chirped your ears off about their soon-to-be released album, about what had happened to the band in the last two months, and he hadn’t failed to promote his father’s art café either, prompting you to drop by anytime because he was working there whenever he wasn’t practicing with the band and at least you would have a familiar face around.

“I admire the way you promote anything, but I’m sure she would have come by if she had wanted to,” Beomgyu teased him casually, directing a friendly smile in your direction. Even though you hadn’t been introduced to him officially, it wasn’t difficult to know who he was since you had already known the other two members.

“Maybe she was just too shy to come by.” Hueningkai shrugged, and you let out a giggle, thinking that it was adorable how he tried to defend you.

“It’s not about that. I merely don’t move out that much, at least not alone,” you explained while you were handing their drummer his orange juice, and you took the other two’s orders, too. When your eyes settled on Yeonjun’s face, you couldn’t read off anything, not even surprise or frustration, but maybe it was better than if he had been ashamed of seeing you again.

“Well then, that’s great! Come by with Yeonjun next time,” Hueningkai suggested ever so beamingly, with no hint of joking in his voice. Yet, the leader didn’t feel like playing his game, so he nudged him in the side and reprimanded him for saying nonsense.

It wasn’t the only hint Hueningkai dropped that night about you two, but you two always objected, much to Hueningkai and Beomgyu’s amusement. You could sense that there was nothing purposefully offensive in their playful teasing, that’s why you weren’t even mad at them. You were already nearing the end of your shift anyways, and it was fun to get to know the other two members better, especially since Yeonjun was the quiet one, mostly commenting when he wanted to hold back the other two from going overboard or when a question was directed at him. Though at least you could see smiling, the ice around his heart thawing whenever he was around his friends, and the sight warmed your heart.

You said goodbye to them when your shift ended, and you went back to the staff’s room to pick up your stuff, ready to head out of the bar altogether when you caught sight of Yeonjun still sitting by the counter, nursing his drink. You would be delusional to think that he had been waiting for you, but you didn’t want to leave without telling him how much you liked their songs (without Hueningkai’s chirping and Beomgyu’s teasing remarks), so you sat down beside him on a bar chair, and said:

“I’ve just wanted to tell you that I think your songs are great, and it’s amazing that there are still bands like yours that sing about the struggles of our generation. I’m sure many of us can resonate with the lyrics of your songs,” you confessed sincerely, yet when Yeonjun turned his head towards you, he quirked an eyebrow challengingly.

“Does it resonate with you?” He tilted his head, probably debating how much of what you had said was true. Sure, you could have told him white lies, but that wouldn’t have been you.

“I’ve never had big dreams even though I was a good student,” you started a bit hesitant, not sure how much to say to make him believe. You wanted him to believe you. You needed him to believe you. To believe in someone. “I’m lucky that my parents don’t force me to pick up something, but it was always something I’ve been faced with. Seeing how many students go onto higher education, and I didn’t even though I could have passed with my grades… A lot of people told me to find something, I may grow to love it, but I didn’t want to dive into something I didn’t like. So I’ve decided to work instead, and now I’m just kind of floating, trying to find where to settle, so I can relate a lot to that pressure of meeting expectations, of not knowing who you are.”

At the beginning of your monologue, you felt like you were clumsily stumbling upon your words, but the more you spoke, the more confident you became. Yeonjun’s features softened a bit, and that prompted you as well, so by the end, you didn’t feel like it was that big of a confession on your part. You knew he would understand, and so did he.

“It’s okay if you don’t find your dream so early. You’re still young,” he pointed out, his voice neutral, but his orbs telling you tales of how he had been trying to say the same words to himself. You knew that he hadn’t believed that music would be the path for him, so he hadn’t found his dream until he had met his two friends, and maybe he had been just as lost, just as helplessly wandering in the sea of dreams as you did so lately.

You gulped nervously before bringing up the next part of your story, but you felt the need to add it to your previous explanation.

“I know that now, but my previous boyfriend and his family…” You trailed off, the flashbacks coming back at you, pointing their fingers, mocking you. Initially, you had fallen in love with that boy from your high school days because he had seemed too good for you, and you had been flattered that he had liked you back. He had been polite, handsome, ever so considerate and he had been so ambitious that he hadn’t dreamt of anything less than a double-degree programme at one of the SKY universities and an overseas one. His dreams had always been greater than yours, and even though it might not have been striking in the beginning, and it hadn’t made a difference, eventually it had all changed.

“They were of a different opinion, and I found myself in a very bad place mentally because of them,” you concluded briefly because you didn’t want to go into detail about how you hadn’t wanted to study either because the boy had been comparing your results to his, and he had become obsessed planning your future for you, and when you had objected, he had played the victim, and it had all gone downhill. You had been lucky that you had escaped because you didn’t know how much more of his emotional manipulation could you have put up with.

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun remarked solemnly, his voice laced with a hint of concern. You didn’t want him to worry because it was all good now, so you mumbled:

“I’m better off without him. I’m just glad I had the courage to leave him because him not accepting me without a university degree was him not accepting me as my true self.

The silence that followed your confession was nowhere near uncomfortable. Instead, you felt a strong sense of understanding, and you slipped into this warm feeling quite easily. You hadn’t intended to bring up something so personal when you had walked up to him that night, but he had asked, and knowing about what might have happened to him due to the band’s lyrics, you felt indebted to him, so you wanted to answer all of his questions as truthfully as possible.

“Leaving is sometimes for the better,” he whispered more to himself than to you, but you could feel the plea, the desperation for agreement in the way his gaze stayed on you, eyes not leaving yours. He was so vulnerable like this, like a child reaching his hand out to his parents while silently suffering, that’s why your heart broke for him. You wished you could do something for him, you wished you could be the one to hold his hand when he was asking for help, but you weren’t sure that he let anyone see when he was in his weakest moments.

“Because staying is sometimes more painful than leaving,” you added, nodding along, so that he knew that you agreed with his statement. You knew that he believed you now for trust was finally engraved into his features, and his eyes shone in a different light, but you still felt like there was something that was holding both of you back from getting closer. Or maybe he was merely not ready to let you in.

You sat there in silence for sometime afterwards, but eventually he finished his drink, and suggested walking you home since you had stayed after your shift, and it was even later than you usually went home. You would have objected if it had been for someone else, but with Yeonjun, you had a feeling that his offer wasn’t because he deemed you fragile or vulnerable, but because he wanted to take responsibility for keeping you there.

So you gave in without a second thought, and even though most of your bus ride home was spent in silence, you didn’t mind. Sitting in silence with Yeonjun wasn’t overwhelming, it was oddly calming, like stumbling upon a spot of serenity in the middle of the buzzing city. He might have seemed far away and shone differently than others just like the moon, but his light drew you in, and you didn’t want to let go of him. Even if you eventually had to, at least for the day, and there was no promise of another encounter when he broke the silence as you came to a halt in front of your house.

“Thank you for not leaving when your shift ended,” he whispered raspily, and there was so much in his expression that you found it hard to decipher him. One thing was for sure though: he appreciated your honesty, and you appreciated that he had let you be sincere with him.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you mentioned with a gentle smile, and the half-smile you have received from him was more than you could have asked for. The momentary happiness hiding behind the smile was worth more to you than possible answers to your possible questions.

For now, it was more than enough that you could make him smile like that, though you wished you could have done so more often. Hoping, hoping, endlessly hoping for a fully bloomed smile.

After that day, Yeonjun sometimes came by the music bar, and sometimes you went to the art café where Hueningkai was working (much to his and Beomgyu’s happiness), and bumped into the jet-black haired boy a few times. It wasn’t settled, you never notified the other even though you had each other’s contacts, but you liked it this way. Nothing was pressuring you to meet, but you could see each other if you wanted to, and the other wouldn’t mind.

You liked getting to know Yeonjun bit by bit, and you liked how the distance between the two of you grew shorter and shorter. Neither of you were rushing anything; you understood that the boy needed time and a lot of trust to open up, and you let him test the waters, getting to know you, seeing if he could trust you. You were as honest with him as possible, and not having the burden of living up to his expectations like you had done so with your ex-boyfriend and his family, you felt free like a bird escaping its cage. You felt weightless beside him, and you realised that maybe, while you were in this floating, transitioning phase in your life, there were more opportunities and flickers of hope than you would have initially thought so, and it set you free.

You also got to see Yeonjun smile more often, and while seeing him like that was still like a treasure ‒ ever so scarce yet ever so precious ‒, you cherished each joyful moment with him as if it was the first. You could see him being teasing and goofy with his friends, and you could see him as a flustered boy under the caring eyes of the old couple who lead the tteokbokki place where he was working. They had told you that Yeonjun had been helping them out ever since his high school days, and now he was working full-time, trying to arrange the band’s practices around his working schedule though they tried to be as flexible with him as possible.

With all of these little moments, encounters and conversations, you slowly got to build up the unbreakable fortress that he was, and you got to know the way to his heart: honesty, vulnerability and care. Honesty because he had been fooled and used too many times to bear more liars, vulnerability because he could only begin to let down his walls if someone else around him had done so before, and care because he didn’t believe that he was worthy of love or attention, and he needed constant proof that you wouldn’t leave him one day.

In return, he accepted you as you were, just as you were. He was understanding like no one else, and he cared though he was better with actions than with words. He could know from a fraction of an expression if you weren’t feeling well, and he was ready to listen to whatever you had to say, and he knew exactly just what you needed to hear; he was always giving his portion of kimchi whenever you two were eating out, and he did it without a word each and every time even though you didn’t ask him to; he always walked you home when he didn’t have the night shift or a band practice; and he sometimes asked for your opinion on song lyrics that might resonate with you too, and it meant the world to you.

So knowing about his past, his family background, and the scars that had painted the canvas of his life, you had utter admiration for him and his will to keep going, to keep fighting for his dreams. For you, he was like a compass that showed you the right direction, and for him, you were like the moon that shone upon his darkest hours of the night.

That’s why it wasn’t that surprising that you inquired about his favourite place, and even though he warned you that it was nothing fancy, you were looking forward to it eagerly. You weren’t even taken aback when he took you to an abandoned place outside of the city, somewhere where you could only get to on foot after hopping off the bus. You looked around at all those randomly scattered objects that had been left behind while he was leading the way to the top of the building, and there, he sat down close to the edge, crossing his legs and keeping himself up with his hands on the ground behind him.

“Why does this place mean so much to you?” you asked as you sat down beside him, following his gaze and watching as the light breeze played with the branches on the nearby trees. It was fall, the time when leaves turned into an array of colours, and eventually fell, letting another season come by, but you were still in the early phases of the current season. The weather was tender, almost gentle, and the wind was only caressing your skin as if it was trying to soothe all wrinkles and to tend to past wounds.

“We’ve been here with the guys a lot of times when we wanted to escape the hustle-bustle of the city, so in a way, it’s our secret place,” he explained, his eyes staring far ahead. It could be seen that he was contemplating whether or not to add something more, so you let him be with thoughts, and decide it for himself. After all, it was already enough of an answer for you.

So you sat in silence for some more moments while only the rattling of the leaves could be heard, but you let it be the background music of your conversation. Sometimes it was the rain outside a window or the subtle clutter in the art café accompanied by some old ballad songs playing in the background. Small, yet significant moments that were still yours, and that’s what mattered.

“And I’ve always felt like this place was similar to how I am. Abandoned, only found and visited by a few people who came by because of destiny,” Yeonjun added later on, but his voice was quiet and uncertain. Or maybe it was that raw edge to it that made you feel like he wasn’t sure that he could tell you this.

“But this place is still here just like you. It didn’t collapse no matter the damage it has suffered, and that’s admirable,” you pointed out, tilting your head to have a better look at him, but he merely shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

“It’ll collapse one day. It’s just a matter of time.”

You knew this side of him: the one that was sure that he was the reason his blood-related family had left him behind, and that his adoptive parents didn’t love him. You knew that he was doubting others’ care towards him, but still, the way torment was carrying his words squeezed your heart. You didn’t want to save him from his demons because you knew that at the end of the day, he would need to be the one to turn against the darkness, but you wanted to be a ray of light in his life, something that he could hold onto when he was sinking alone, something that he could turn to when it became too burdening to deal with his self-hatred.

Thus, you couldn’t give up.

“And what if someone doesn’t want to give up on it? What if someone wants to rebuild it?” you retorted, and there was newfound confidence in your voice. It wasn’t uncommon that you went against his words, especially when he was doubting himself, and this time too, you knew that he was talking about himself, not only the abandoned building. He was still staring far ahead, but the corner of his lips twitched, and he let out a hurtful snort in return.

“Who would do so? It’s been the same for at least a decade.”

“Maybe those who have no reason to leave it like that,” you kept going, more and more powerful feelings lacing your words. You were oh so desperate, not willing to give up on this conversation, not willing to give up on him. Because he deserved it. He gave more love than he received, and you wanted to balance it out. You wanted to be the one he turns to whenever he’s having a hard time or he’s craving some company. Because he needed it. He needed a helping hand just as you needed someone to hold onto.

“Everyone leaves eventually,” he snapped, turning his head towards you, his raw, raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. You kept the eye-contact with him, not scared by the accusation in his voice.

“Only until someone proves you wrong,” you remarked confidently, and you could see the ice around his heart thawing. Whenever he brought up something to object, you were there to contradict him, and his somewhat thankful yet still somewhat broken expression gave way for hope in your heart. “I want to stay in your life,” you confessed sincerely, not averting your eyes from his face because you wanted him to see that you were honest. You may not know what the future holds for you two, but you knew how you felt, and you knew that you wanted to stay by his side, to continue holding his hand if he wanted to, and to be with him even if that meant that you would merely sit beside each other in silence.

He pushed himself off the ground, so that he was in a cross-legged position with his hands resting in his lap, and he leaned forward, close enough for you to see the sun-kissed parts of his face, and to observe every mole as if it had been a part of a painting. You weren’t usually this close to each other, so you could have been taken aback, but you weren’t. You merely welcomed his close proximity for it showed that he was ready to let you in.

“With everything that I am?” Yeonjun whispered, the moment stretching between you two while he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“With everything.” You nodded without a second thought, knowing that just as he accepted you with every part of you, you accepted him with all the colours he held inside, and with all the burden and pain he carried from his childhood. There was no doubt about it; you loved him, and even if he were to ask you for the hundredth time, you would say the same.

You were ready to get lost in the jet-black sea of his eyes, swimming and swimming in it until you were out of breath, exploring every corner, every different shade. He was a paradox, a metaphor that could only scratch the surface of what he actually held inside, but you didn’t mind taking your time to solve him. If the rattling of the branches around were the background music, the accompanist was your heart that beated louder and louder the closer the boy leaned forward, and you were not only speechless when he pressed his lips onto yours, but breathless, too.

He was taking your breath away in the best way possible, and time seemed to pass by, but you didn’t care. What mattered was him, the trust in his jet-black eyes, the relieved smile in the corner of his lips as you two came up for air, and the palette of colours that shone upon him as the sun was setting behind him.

Because now it seemed that he was ready to accept that he was made up of more than only darkness.

Choi Yeonjun often thought that life was like a chess game: full of black and white spots, wise and well-thought decisions mixed in with abrupt, desperate ones, and when one was about to believe that they would win the round, the opponent made a devastating move, and there was no hope of winning for a long time ‒ or more like, forever.

Now, he had learned how to get up time and time again because he couldn’t give up on his life. He couldn’t give up on what he had, his dreams, his friend, and also you. He might not have always done the right thing, he might not have always been on the winning side, but as long as he could learn from each and every round, he was ready to keep going, to move on with his life no matter what obstacles life threw at him. Maybe that light had always been within him, he had merely not known how to approach it; how to accept that it could be a part of him, that it could keep himself warm, but now, his midnight sky days were over, and he was ready to welcome the sunrise.

Having you by his side helped, too, for he could believe that he deserved love and support, and you proved him again and again that you didn’t have to be blood-related to him to accept him for who he was. In fact, all the people in his life who genuinely accepted him weren’t blood-related, but they were his chosen family, and he was ready to accept that. He was ready to let the light in, to let the suffocating darkness dissolve.

That didn’t mean that it was easy to be himself, that it was easy to put aside his self-hatred and his demons, but he was getting there, and now when he was sinking alone, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and what you would say to him to reassure him, and that was usually enough to lift up the blinding mist that might have fallen over him time and time again. If not, he let the darkness engulf him completely, but that happened less and less frequently.

You still didn’t know what you wanted with your life and what was your dream, but you decided to enjoy what you had, and whom you had by your side. You loved spending time with Hueningkai and Beomgyu too, having lots of fun and hilarious moments beside them, and you loved when you could feel completely and sincerely at ease with all the members of Gen Z Tragedy because apart from their usual teasing, they were very supportive of your relationship with Yeonjun, and the same went for your parents and the old couple at Yeonjun’s workplace. The boy’s parents didn’t seem to care about his love life, so he didn’t bother introducing you to them after they hadn’t shown interest in getting to know you, but your parents loved him and cared for him as if he had been their kid, too.

As months passed by, and he could finally hope of moving out from his adoptive parents’ house because he knew that he could get by with what he had, and so he started looking for flats, something else happened that he had been expecting, but wouldn’t have thought that it would come true.

So of course he went to see you, knocking on the door at your family’s house, hoping that you would be at home, and when you opened the door, he gave you a sentimental smile.

“We made it!” Yeonjun broke it down to you immediately, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, needing more details.

“What is it about?” you inquired as you beckoned him inside, and as soon as the sentence rolled off his tongue, the first teardrop rolled down with it. You were a bit cautious for this reason, but when you got to know what it was about, you realised those weren’t tears of agony, but of joy.

“Gen Z Tragedy has gotten a contract at an agency,” he explained, his voice breaking by the end, and you were so happy for him that you immediately hugged him, letting his soft sobs reverberate through your body.

Yeonjun wasn’t one to cry easily, he held it inside so well that tears were ever so scarce companions of his feelings, but those tears that he had been keeping for himself all his life had accumulated, and he couldn’t stop crying. Crying for that young boy at the orphanage who had felt all alone and abandoned, his only company being silence and the evil voices in his head; crying for that teenager who had never understood what he had done so wrong that his adoptive parents hadn’t loved him, and who had decided that he had been better alone and pretending that he hadn’t needed anybody; crying for that high school boy who hadn’t dared to believe that Hueningkai and Beomgyu would stay in his life, and that his dream of being a musician could ever come true; and crying, crying, crying for all those times he had wanted to push you away, not daring to hope for someone like you to love him.

Now, he was finally ready to see that he might not always leave burnt ashes behind, and that seeds of hope could grow even from the hardest ground.

[warriorteam1924]

Music is my savior (Part 3)

Author note : Hello my lovelies !! I think we are on a great rhythm : I’m able to publish one part a week. I think this way I have time to make sure it is correct, and I also have time to create other content. I’m repeating myself, but thanks for the support, always really meaningful. And to my sis, you know what I’m gonna say, but again, I love you.

Summary : Reader had been chosen to be bassist on the Bohemian Rhapsody set. Reader’s journey carries on as she gets to actually work on the set with everyone.

Word Count :  2,844 words

Warnings : none…. Well, you know me now, my writing is far from excellent and flawless.

💖💜

Part 3 : Good Company 

The thing to do was now to get to know each other better. You had only met the actors once and really quickly. And it was not so bad after all, because you had taken time to open your laptop and check all those names on the Internet because you hardly knew any of their work. When he had introduced himself, it had been very difficult for you to recognize Joe as Tim Murphy, because it was something like 20 years ago. He was now a grown up man. After checking on several websites, it was now clear: you had seen the four actors in movies, but you did not know many things. Maybe it was for the best, after all: this way, you would not be tempted to talk about anything else but Bohemian Rhapsody and no other protagonists they could have portrayed would come to your mind when you would be working with them.

The production had planned a meeting with the main actors, Brian and Roger, a few musicians, such as you, and different crew members. It  was supposed to take place in one of the meeting room in the office buildings, and when you had texted Jack, he had told you you did not need to bring your bass, it was just a first gathering to get to make better introductions and get to know each other better.

So you took you badge and went to meet everybody. You were not an introverted person in everyday life, but once again and certainly because of the whole thing this was, you felt really nervous. As you arrived, Jack welcomed you and you were glad to see the actors, Roger and Brain were already seated and talking. You came in and Brian stood up to greet you.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you?” he said, once again hugging you.

“I’m so nervous”, you whispered in his ear hiding behind his long curly hair.

“Don’t be, they’re all very kind, you really don’t need to worry”, he reassured you.

Roger stood up as well and hugged you “What’s up, Princess?”, he said with a wink. “You guys remember Y/N? She’s going to be our bassist on the set. Y/N, this is Rami, Gwilym, Ben and Joe, you all met after our little show the other day. And this is Lucy Boynton, portraying Mary Austin, and Allen Leech, who is going to be Paul Prenter.”, he precised.

You walked around the table and offered your hand to shake, but all of them stood up and hugged you, just like Brian and Roger did, all of them having a nice word for you. Lucy hugged you a little longer than the others.

“I know you must be nervous, being surrounded by men, don’t worry, if you need anything, just come to me”, she whispered in your ear.

“That’s very sweet, thanks”, you replied, also in a murmur.

A few other crew members entered and introduced themselves, but this time everybody shook hands.

“Okay”, said Jack, “even if many of you know each other and know what their jobs are on this set, I would like everyone to go round the table introducing yourselves. I’ll start then, I’m Jack, assistant director on this filming production.”

The other crew members introduced themselves as well, they were scriptwriter, art director, costume designer, make up and hairstylist, but also a few of their assistants.

“Well, I’m Brian May, astrophysicist and guitarist in the band Queen, my job here is to teach a little bit of guitar to Gwil, play on set and try to make Freddie’s story great !”, said Brian with a sweet smile.

“ I’m Rog, drummer for Queen, and no I’m no dentist you chumps so no need to show me your teeth…. I’ll be here on set to play drums, teach Ben this WON-DER-FUL and underestimated instrument drums are.”, joked Roger.

As he was seated next to him, Allen carried on “I’m Allen, portraying Paul Prenter so my job is to make everybody hate me on screen”.

“I’m Lucy, I’ll be portraying Mary Austin, Freddie’s love, so my job is to play, but hopefully not sing or play any instruments”, she said with a faint smile.

Rami was next to her and  he continued “I’m Rami, I’ll be Freddie in this production. There’s a lot of pressure of my shoulders but I’ll do my best to play this incredible man and show how talented he was.”

He really sounded stressed but it was that kind of stress that showed the person would give it all for his job to be done the best way.

“I’m Gwil, you’ll see me around the set with a nice curly wig for I’ll be Brian in the movie. I just hope I’ll be able to hold a guitar properly and make him proud of my job.”, said Gwilym looking at Brian, who answered “I’m sure you’ll be great !!” .

“ I’m Ben, I’ll be playing Roger Taylor, who is also here, so I also hope my arms will be strong enough to be able to put all this energy in the drums.”

Then was Joe: “I’m Joe, the kid from Jurassic Park, yeah it never gets old” he said as everyone laughed, “I’ll be John Deacon and bass padawan for the movie. I just hope I won’t become a wig addict after this production….”

You looked a him, not knowing if you had to laugh. You liked when people were able to be relaxed about their job, however you hoped this man would take his seriously. And then it was your turn :

“I’m Y/N, bassist on this set. I’m not here to replace Mister John Deacon, but I’ll try to play and teach my instrument with all my heart.”, you said as stress began to fade.

“Ben voyons*” (*Oh Really) Someone whispered, but it seemed you were the only one to hear it and understand because it was French. You did not see who said it and you did not have the opportunity to look around the room to know who the person could be because Jack stood up and said : “Okay thanks everyone, now I think maybe the actors could have a moment alone with the musicians ? After all, they are going to be some sort of partners during this production. Rami, I’d like to see you with your assistants because it’s just the beginning of the hardest rehearsal of all, Live aid, so we’ve got many things to do. Thanks again y’all” he said and he left with Rami, many assistants and the other crew members. Lucy and Allen also left together, already talking about their parts in the movie.

Gwilym and Ben had stood up to seat next to Brian and Roger, and they started a conversation about the production. You looked at them with a smile as the two actors were pretending to play their instruments.

“I think it could be risky to interrupt them….So, teacher, how do we start?” asked Joe.

“Well, first do you have a bass guitar?” you replied.

“Yes M’am, I do !! I’ll go and get it.” he said.

“Okay, meet me at studio 39, I think it will be more quiet to start practicing.”, you said as you stood up.

Joe looked at you, puzzled. “Studio 39? What’s that?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, that’s my place during the filming. It’s behind the offices, do you know where it is?”

“Ahhh okay, so I seek for place number 39, right?” he said.

“Correct, and if you’re lucky, you’ll find me there! Gentlemen, see you later” you added as you left the room.

You came back to your place, greeting everyone you met on your way. You unlocked the door of studio 39 and left it wide open for Joe to find it more easily. As an habit now, you prepared tea, but remembered Joe was American and wondered if he wanted to drink something else. You opened your fridge to check for a soda, and you almost dropped it when Joe entered the studio, holding his bass triumphantly.

“Oopsy, I did not mean to startle you, sorry” he said as you tried to catch your breath.

“That’s okay. Anything to drink?” you asked.

“No thanks, let’s start if you don’t mind.”

You turned the boiler off and headed to your bass guitar as Joe closed the door. He came to the open space and put his right foot on the coffee table and began to pull the strings any old how, making funny noise with his mouth.  

“Well, that’s a very good start”, you laughed at him, “you’re holding it right side up….”

Joe looked at you, pretending to be upset. He seated in the coach with his instrument, like a exemplary student. You took your own bass, put the strap around your shoulder and plugged on your amp.

“We’ll sound better like this” you said. “Do you want to hear anything?” you asked.

“Well…. I don’t know…. Does it have to be Queen?”, he replied.

“No, I know other stuff, even if for me John Richard Deacon is the best, obviously….”, you honestly said.

“Surprise me then”, he said shrugging his shoulders.

You thought about a medley, for Joe to see that bass is not limited to only one kind of music. So, you put your finger on the strings and began to play: you started with Disco Inferno, by the Trammps, followed this Come Together by the Beatles. As your fingers were warmed up you continued with Peter Gunn Theme, carried on with Billie Jean by Michael Jackson and finished with Under Pressure, by Queen, because you simply could not resist. As you were playing, you saw Joe’s leg beating in rhythm, which was a good sign : maybe he was no musician but he could feel the music.

“Whow, that was cool” he said after you finished. “I mean, seeing your fingers moving so fast on the neck is impressive…. I start to wonder if bassists are not a little underestimated in their field….”

“Thanks, that’s very sweet. Yeah bassists are sometimes considered as unnecessary but if you listen to many songs without the bass guitar, you’ll have the feeling something’s missing.”, you replied. “Maybe to start, I’ll teach you some basics and see if you can ‘credibly’ place your fingers on the bass, okay?”

Joe agreed and you began showing him where and how to place his hands on his instrument. You told him once he would be more comfortable moving his fingers on the strings, he would be able to stand up and move around, just like Deaky would have on stage. Joe was really assiduous and seemed to be willing to learn properly. The two of you were in the middle of a little riff when someone knocked on your door.

“It’s open, come in”, you said.

Ben opened the door with a shy smile “Do you guys mind if I outstay your welcome?”

“Not at all, come in please. How come you’re not with Roger?” you asked.

“He and Brian had to work with Rami so, he told me to come to you guys. He told me I could learn more about Queen and music with you” he added looking at you.

“Oh…. okay, no problem, make yourself at home. So…. I was wondering if you guys have ever practice an instrument?”

Joe nodded “I have practiced a little bit of guitar actually, so I’m not a total beginner.”

“Yeah, like playing on four strings is going to be hard” ironically said Ben.

Before Joe could answer, you raised your eyebrows and looked at Ben, but even if you knew he was joking, you replied: “You know, actually being a drummer is quite simple if you think about it : use the table or your tights, beat on them in some rhythm and here you go, you’re a drummer….”

Joe bursted out laughing, and it was really pleasant to hear. Tears even came to his eyes. Ben blushed a little but smiled as well.

“You know guys, I truly advise you not to think if an instrument is better than another. All members of Queen has particular skills and each of them has written songs, and not only they could write for their own instruments, but also for the other members of the band. And to be honest, drummer and bassist often work together, their instruments are complementary. Well, that’s my opinion, in my band I work a lot with the drummer, so the whole song sounds the best. I think after a while, you guys are going to be best buddies. Have ever noticed how close were Roger and John during the shows?”

“I’ve hardly ever seen any of their concerts”, confessed Ben.

“So, let’s carry on with some of Queen’s show then, just give me a sec, so I can turn my laptop on, and we’ll watch some”, you said, heading to your computer.

You were setting and looking in your files to find some Queen show and someone knocked on the door.

“Come in !!” you said, still looking at your screen.

It was Gwilym “I’ve been looking for you for ages, Brian said we should spend a little time together and told me Y/N could help me to get to know him… I know it’s weird when you hear it but, here I am.”

“We were going to watch some Queen show, close the door, take a seat and enjoy.”, you replied as you turned up the volume.

You all made yourselves comfortable and watched different performances by Queen. The guys were singing along and sometimes, they asked you to pause the concert to have a little explanation, about an instrument, a note or who wrote the song and why. You never considered yourself as Queen expert, but it turned out you were able to answer every question they had. And you thought Brian and Roger were very clever: the actors and you were about the same age and it certainly was easier for them to ask you some questions. Even if the three of them were already famous, you totally understood it could be intimidating to ask Rock Legends some personal questions.

You spend the whole day in studio 39, watching the shows, interviews as well and it was a very pleasant sensation: you had the feeling you belonged here. You could have talked with those guys about Queen all day, they were so kind and really longing to learn. At the end of the afternoon, you received a text and you happily saw it was from Lucy.

‘How about diner with Rami and I tonight? We would like to get to know you.’

You gladly accepted and she texted you back where to meet.

At the end of the day, the guys left, deciding they would have diner together as you already had plans.

—————————————-

Rami and Lucy were already in the little restaurant, which was very close from the filming location. During this very nice dinner, Rami talked about his twin brother and his family, his previous acting jobs and confessed his stress about his performance as Freddie Mercury.

You tried to reassure him : “You know, I’m quite sure Brian and Roger gave their opinion, you did not end up here by sheer chance. I’m sure when you’ll be in front of the camera, you’ll show your all potential.”

Lucy was younger than you and surprisingly mature. Many young woman of her age were not as modest as she was. She was incredibly beautiful but it was nice to see her appearance was no hint who she really was : a very kind, intelligent and delicate woman. Also, despite having begun her acting career at the age of twelve, she was also concerned about her performance as Mary. This time it was Rami who told her not to worry, joking about the fact she certainly would not have to wear fake teeth nor a mustache, so she was going to look great.

They carried on talking, going from one topic to another easily, as if they had known each other for long, and you thought maybe it was some actor thing, because you had the feeling you were not supposed to be here. Thus, after dessert, you stood up, saying it had been a long day and you needed to rest (even if it was true). You politely offered to pay but Rami seemed deeply offended so you did not insist. You hugged the both of them and came back to studio 39.

This day had truly been intense in emotions, very good ones. You opened your laptop and type everything that happened that day, and promised yourself you would type at least a few lines everyday so that when you grow old and somehow senile, you would still have a trace of this whole journey, and would be able to remember how good company those people were.

Part 2 : ′39  //  Part 4 : Body Language