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wincore · 4 years

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atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of.

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low.

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours.

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget.

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore.

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume.

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type.

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises. If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts.

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself.

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask.

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it.

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it.

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily.

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year.

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately.

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one.

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt.

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover.

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours.

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth.

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words.

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table.

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad.

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back.

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing.

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters.

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs.

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.”

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can.

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off.

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating.

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know.

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young.

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.”

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling.

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung.

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses.

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention.

Inviting him somewhere.

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure.

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more.

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter?

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him.

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.”

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.”

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.”

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts.

You’re disappointing.

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose.

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps.

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask.

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you.

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue.

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.”

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you.

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families.

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe.

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard.

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them.

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out.

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure.

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up.

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt.

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder.

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart.

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it.

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him.

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak.

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time.

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional.

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love.

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved.

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding.

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either.

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple.

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action.

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t.

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days.

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.”

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by.

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers.

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever.

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout.

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!”

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?”

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this.

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose.

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond.

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—”

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder.

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him.

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too.

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again.

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling.

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you.

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care.

“Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there.

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes.

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally.

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer.

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand.

2K notes · View notes

calumxkisses · 3 years

Text

Sleep On The Floor | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: life’s getting dark grey, lucky for you, Calum is ready to show you all the colors - or maybe that’s what you dream about.

a/n: hi beautiful angels, i’m back! sorry for being away fr such a long time but i was studying and trying my best to stay alive. today’s also my birthday and i wanted to thank all of you for loving my past serie. i love every single on of you.

this imagine its inspired by the song: sleep on the floor

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The music is loud, the same songs are repeated continuously but the constant talk and the drinks make it difficult to notice the monotony of these parties. It is a monotony that you relive every weekend since you started working in the music industry and it doesn’t depend on the place, the week or the event, the same things repeat themselves over and over again.

Dark grey. It’s the color that you best associate to this situation. It’s that color that makes you think about factories, workers in line, controlled by rules and by a world that leaves no room for creativity, for change, for a better world. You remember that Charlie Chaplin’s movie that your professor made you watch in school and the way he ends up living an adventure. Will that happen to you too? It’s just a party, you think, but because it’s a party you shouldn’t feel this way.

You’ll take a plane tomorrow and you’ll end up in another city that you won’t visit because there’ll be no time. After the concert or the interview, you’ll end up in some hidden place dancing and drinking and the day after another plane or bus will be waiting for you. And when the tour ends, you’ll be able to breathe.

The girl in front of you keeps talking about the promotion she got at work, but you stopped listening to her a long time ago. Didn't she get the promotion last week? Or was it another girl? Maybe she was the one who had just returned from a business trip?

Across the room, a few steps away from you, Calum, Luke and Roy are talking about the new album the band is working on, the new genre they are experimenting with and the lyrics they enjoy writing but will never release. They spend their days like this, searching for new sounds and writing lyrics about salads and strange places where they get lost.

You look around before your gaze gets placed in front of you and you notice that Calum is looking at you too, his curly hair with shades of blonde free from any beanie and he’s still wearing the leather jacket. His eyes stare at you and a little grin forms on his lips. Without realizing it, you slowly approach each other.

“It doesn't look like you're having fun.”

“My stomach hurts from how much I’m laughing.” You say in a sarcastic tone, your face expressing your emotion.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Calum knows you. He knows your need to break free from the world and the way you love everything that is extraordinary. He needs that too, he wants to have the possibility to just be him and not the bassist from 5 Seconds Of Summer, but he’ll never tell you this, he won’t give you the satisfaction of being right. But you know.

“No, I'm just tired of always doing the same things.” You say dramatically, sighing.

“Then let's do something different.”

“Like what? Playing hide and seek instead of beer pong?”

“No, let’s leave. We have a couple of hours before this party ends and nobody will notice our absence anyway. Let’s do something different for once.”

You smile. He’s trying to relieve your suffering and you appreciate that.

Calum walks away for a moment and when he returns, your jacket is in his hand and no longer on the couch. He throws it at you and offers you his hand. “A Taxi is already waiting for us outside. What do you think?” His smile is wide on his face, but not as big as the one that forms on your face when you grab his hand and drag him out.

You both laugh as you get into the car, your adrenaline is running high and you already feel better. The driver smiles at the scene, Calum whispers something in his ear and then sits back on the seat, his eyes following your body before looking in your eyes.

“I didn’t know you could speak French.” You say looking at his face.

“There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me, love.” He says before looking in front of him, mentally trying to remember the name of the streets. His side profile is lightened by different colors as you pass all the different neons of the shops of the city.

The window on your right is slightly lowered. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, the wind brushes your face and the noise of the city is like a melody in your ears. Calum kisses your hair and rests his head on yours.

You’re in a car, just the two of you stuck in traffic, yet you feel like you are in a different world, in a world of constant change, where everything happens only once and you are ready to treasure every second of it.

You don’t know how many minutes have passed by before Calum taps on your shoulder and whispers, “Look.” before pointing to his left. You open your eyes and the Arc de Triomphe lights up the city. It’s a masterpiece that reigns in the French city. It’s fully illuminated and stands powerful in the center of the rotunda.

“Wow.” It's the only thing you can say as you get closer to the window to get a better look. The driver chuckles at your reaction. You are too distracted by the beauty of the monument to notice the way Calum looks at you, lost in the way the lights illuminate your face and the way your hand is in his, as if they were made to hold only each other.

All the cars are driving past the monument as if it was nothing, probably used to the view, but you can’t get enough of the magical feeling that you feel just by looking at it.

As the Arc de Triomphe is now behind you, you sit back in your seat, your mouth still slightly open from the astonishment of the sight. They might have been some of the most intense minutes you’ve ever experienced.

“Everytime we finish a show here, we always ask to pass by here. After the confusion of the concert, this view always manages to bring peace. Usually we are always exhausted but we try to stay awake as much as possible to not miss this view.” He whispers, looking out and smiling at the memories.

“I know how much you daydream and how much you like these views and as soon as they gave us the tour dates, I immediately asked to let you come with us. I knew you would like it.”

The idea that Calum has thought of you, especially in this occasion, warms your heart. He’s not a person who expresses what he feels, he finds it difficult to open up to the world and to the people around him and you know that that's his way of showing that he cares, by gestures, thoughts and small details.

“Thank you, Calum. We passed here yesterday and it was magical in the sun, I didn't expect to love it even more at night.”

The car crosses a bridge and the Seine is illuminated, leading you to fall even more in love with this city. It is definitely the most romantic city in the world, as everyone says.

“Close your eyes.” Calum whispers, taking your hand and putting them on your eyes.

“Wait, why? What are you doing?” You ask but he stays silent. Your heart beats fast.

Before you know it, the car stops and Calum talks to the driver. You are tempted to open your eyes and peek but the idea that he has decided to surprise you makes you feel too much guilt to do it so you decide to keep your hands on your face.

Calum opens the door, “Give me your hand but keep your eyes closed, okay?” You nod before holding out your hand. He grabs it and, being careful not to hurt you, he gets you out of the car.

You walk for a while, the noise of the stones is loud as you walk on them and the wind ruffles your hair.

“Keep your eyes still closed for a moment.” He whispers in your ear making you feel chills all over your body.

You feel him moving away and you try to use your senses to understand where you are. You hear people talking in the distance, the noise of some cars behind you as you play with your fingers to entertain yourself while you wait. You aren’t afraid, there’s no single cell in your body that feels fear, you trust him too much to think about the idea that he left you there. He would be ready to climb the highest mountain and cross the hottest deserts to come to you, there’s no emergency that’ll let him leave your side.

Since the first moment his eyes saw you, he knew that he couldn’t let you go.

You feel someone stand in front of you before you hear him speak: “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

Calum is standing in front of you, he’s looking straight in your eyes to see your reaction. He’s holding a red rose in his right hand and a huge smile is on his lips. Behind him, the Eiffel Tower is majestic, a source of light in the dark of the night. You’re left speechless, the magic you’re living is impossible to explain with words. It seems like billions of stars are joined by surrounding the structure, illuminating it and making it something eternal.

There are a few people in the distance, taking photos of the structure and laughing at each other.

There’s a musician on the side of the tower, she’s playing songs that you’re not familiar with and yet they seem to be perfect for this moment. They might be love songs, or even sad songs, but the melody envelops the atmosphere that surrounds you, making you look like the protagonists of a dream.

“Calum.” It’s the only thing you’re able to say. He’s standing there, between you and the Eiffel Tower, one of the most beautiful attraction in the entire world and yet his beauty almost steals the spotlight. But he’ll never know.

He grins and turns around to admire the structure. You reach to take your phone from the pocket of your jacket and take a picture of him, of the Tower, of everything that is surrounding you. Something to look at when you’ll need to think about a happy memory.

“I’m in love. That’s it. I know what love looks like now.” You said admiring the view.

“With me?” He looks at you smiling.

“You wish, don’t you?.”

He laughs and there’s no sound that could be better than that. Not even a view could be more beautiful. Calum Hood laughing in front of the Eiffel Tower, in the middle of the night, surrounded by stars is a sight that no one will ever experience and you hold this moment close to your heart.

“I’m moving here.” You say after a few minutes of silence.

“You can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t live without you.” Your heart skips a beat. “How am I supposed to wake up on time and to go to all my appointments if you don’t remind me?” You both laugh.

“Fine, I’ll honor you with my presence for a little while longer.”

“Thank you.”

For a moment, you look straight into each other's eyes. The world seems to stop, except for the Tower and the music in the distance. Calum takes a piece of your hair behind your ear and you can see your reflection in his eyes.

“It’s getting late, we should go.” He whispers close to your lips.

“Do we really have to go?” You want to close your eyes but you can’t seem to leave the sight of his face. A face that you see everyday but that you can’t get enough of.

“Yeah but this’ll be our little secret. A place that you can escape to when you’re tired of the world. It’s gonna be here-” He says before pointing to your mind, “-and here.” He stops pointing to your heart and for a second you stop breathing.

“We have too many secrets, Calum.” You say as he takes your hand and walks towards the Taxi. You can’t see his face but his body language is telling you that he’s smiling.

He opens the door of the car and gets in and you follow him, not before looking at the Eiffel Tower one last time and taking a deep breath.

The drive back to the party passes quickly and silently, your head is again resting on Calum's shoulder and his head is resting on yours, your hands are intertwined as you play with your fingers while the stereo plays slow, almost inaudible music.

“We are here.” The driver says with a strong accent and you realize that you're back in that building. You both get out of the car and while Calum pays for the ride, you look around you.

“It’s okay to escape reality every once in a while, as long as you remember to come back to reality to me.” He whispers while you get inside the house and you look at him confused before noticing the scene in front of you.

As you enter through the big door, you see that everything looks exactly as when you left. People are doing the same things they were doing before and while you throw your jacket on the couch, you notice that the stereo is playing the same playlist it was playing a couple of hours ago.

Calum is back at talking with Roy and Luke, he’s holding a drink and he’s laughing at something his friend is saying.

You go back to the group you were with at the start of the party, nobody seemed to have noticed your absence. The girl in front of you keeps talking about the promotion she got at work but you’re not really listening.

You look around before your gaze gets placed in front of you and you notice that Calum is looking at you too, he gives you a questioning look and winks before turning his attention back to his friends.

You smile.

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum imagine #calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #calum thomas hood #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #imagine #ashton irwin #ashton 5sos #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #michae #michael 5sos

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interact-if · 3 years

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Taking the spotlight for Day 6... Lucirene!

Lucirene, author of An Angel’s Song

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

In the forest of Bres an otherworldly sickness corrodes the soil and changes the creatures within. “A parting gift from the fallen angels” say the citizens of the Hyaku Region and the mark on your hand confirms it.

Though the scent travelling in the air is sweet and enticing everyone knows better than to get closer. But the mark, it pulses, it burns, the pain spreading as fast as the corruption of the forest does.

Your masters are calling, and it seems like this time you cannot escape them.

An Angel’s Song Demo | Author’s Ko-fi | Author’s Patreon | Read more [here]

Tags: dark fantasy, romance

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

I have so many, but the only one public is An Angel’s Song. It’s, more than anything, a story about grief, loneliness and overcoming it all while navigating a hostile environment and discovering long lost secrets about the Divine and about the MC’s country. That one is very cathartic for me to make because of the themes, I feel like I’m working through a lot of feelings I didn’t even realize I had by writing it.

The next one is also an IF and it focuses on comedy, adventure and character interaction. It’s supposed to be more lighthearted, more fun, but knowing me… I don’t know if it’ll stay that way. Basically, it goes: A Captain’s boat falls prey to the storms and the strange creatures living under the sea, and they and their crew end up washing ashore an icy, snowy country. I already have the main cast written down and they have so much synergy, it’s amazing.

And the last one I’ll talk about (a traditional novel) actually happens in the same setting as my second IF, but many, many years before, when their local deity/guardian was born. It’s more of a romance-fantasy than anything, a love story between a Goddess and a half-dragon, however it also showcases many of the situations the people had to navigate and face before their country could become the place you’ll see in my second IF.

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

What I like most definitely is how much freedom we have as authors. Of course, one is constrained by one’s ability to code but I think, for the most part, we can do so many things, reach an entirely new level of immersion that would not be possible with a regular novel. It’s amazing how sometimes I’m reading something and get so into it, feel so connected to the MC I feel dread when they do, panic when they have to make a choice that will clearly impact a lot of people in their world. With IF you can really feel like you’re part of the story.

Another thing I like is being able to explore other paths with my writing. Like for example, what if the MC had done this instead of that? How would that have affected their relationships, their world state? Writing branches is a lot of work, especially because they could change so many things, but it feels oddly satisfying when you do decide to include them.

Challenges… Coding, mainly. I feel like a lot of new aspiring IF authors are a bit afraid of coding and I can understand that, especially since, had it not been for the help of the community, I would have taken way longer to actually start using Twine. Hopefully with time for resources come up and it becomes less daunting.

I don’t know if any other author feels the same way but, though I think branching is a blessing, it is also a curse. I can only write the same conversation so many times, I mean I know I’m writing it in different tones and sometimes with different results but it gets frustrating after a while because it feels like you’re stuck, like you’re not progressing at all.

Another one would definitely be finding a balance between reader interaction and just following your vision. Since it’s IF at times I feel like I have to meet a quota of branches or ways in which you can react, sometimes I also find it difficult to make the MC feel like a real person instead of a reader-insert. I’m working on that.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

That’s a difficult one… I don’t know if I would consider it weird but I do tend to investigate a lot about fashion, especially when designing the main outfits of the characters. I spend hours trying to find out what colors were used back then, what they meant, who was allowed to use them. I have this little image with some palettes for kimonos depending on the season.

I also spend too much time coming up with names, especially for places. Like I look up names of places that already exist, what they mean, I try to investigate if the words that I want to use make sense, then I panic because I can’t find anything, but I think that’s usual for writers. I also spent more time than necessary researching for the name of a tree that you will see way later in the book, which no one will probably notice what the name of the tree means or what it symbolizes but it makes me happy.

Honestly, I feel like the amount of research I have had to do has not been particularly weird? If anything at times I think I should research more, even if some aspects of Japanese culture will not apply to Kyou.

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

The initial version of the MC from An Angel’s Song, which I miss dearly since they had more personality. They were autistic coded too, and I hope some traces of that still remain. Apart from that I feel like all of the characters from the main cast share something with me, even if their experiences are, of course, more dramatic than my own.

A lot of them have issues with a paternal figure or an absent mother, which also resonates with me. Some of Saori’s traits draw inspiration from ways in which I talked or acted before I became a little better at masking, before I became more self-aware. Hazuki being emotional and caring, K being a bit clingy but devoted, Masa having a temper yet loyal, Miwa being friendly but reluctant to open up beyond surface level information. I think those things describe me.

There’s also Rei but I don’t think I’m writing her book anytime soon. She’s someone that’s very family oriented, she’s a bit temperamental but she means well and she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Now that I think about it, maybe Rei is more the person I want to become.

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

I’ve been living in Venezuela my whole life so I think so, even if most of the time I don’t even notice it. I believe that this happens especially in regards to relationships because people in Venezuela are very family oriented and also, from what I’ve experienced, they form strong bonds with their neighbors, which creates this strong sense of community —sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t, but my mom and her friends always make at least some friends in their neighborhoods and they gossip with some coffee about the happenings of the rest—. So when it comes to writing a character it is very important to me to make an emphasis on family relationships because those are a strong part of my culture, of my identity.

In An Angel’s Song you have the main cast having issues or conflicting emotions about one or multiple members of their family, which influence their behavior and their outlook on life, but for the most part they are (or will be) able to form similar relationships with people that are not related to them, or to work towards restoring that relationship, transforming it into something healthier.

In my other books family dynamics are also immensely important. For example, I’m going to mention Rei again because I love her. So, Rei has a sister named Rin, and they are both very close, even if they haven’t spent much time together. Their bond and trust in each other helps them overcome a lot of obstacles and they rely on each other when they need support or encouragement. Rei also has other people that she thinks of as siblings, and restoring that relationship with them is one of her main goals. There’s also this recurring guilt she feels at leaving her birth family and her home to explore, because to her, families are supposed to stay together.

Another aspect that I think influences my writing is religion, even if I wasn’t raised in a particularly religious household nor do I belong to any religion. Religion is a big deal in this country, we have so many events and holidays relating to religious figures. I remember when I was very young I loved going to one of the churches here because the Virgin of that town had a building filled with pretty clothes to dress her with.

So, in that vein, I try to think about the character’s relationship with religion, do they believe in the Gods? Do they trust them? Do they follow local deities or prefer the main pantheon? How does this religion shape the way people interact with each other and the world? In regards to characters that are Venezuelan or Venezuelan-coded… I do have a few that are Venezuelan, but I don’t think I’m going to be releasing their stories soon, so I’ll keep it quiet for now.

Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

People being passionate about their work! This isn’t something exclusive to IF, but it is something that I love seeing. I also like seeing the different ways people innovate within the genre. I feel like sometimes, especially with newer writers, there is this idea that an IF has to subscribe to a specific format and that’s simply not true. If you don’t want to use a stat system you don’t have to, if you want to add combat then go ahead, if you would prefer to write an MC that’s already pretty pre-established (which is something that I personally want to try) then there’s nothing stopping you and I encourage you to give it a go. IF is very versatile and it’s wrong to try and fit authors into a box, especially if they want to bring something new into our little corner of the internet.

Q7: Any advice to give?

In general, I advise people to have fun writing, to not worry so much about how good it is, about if people will like it. Writing, at the end of the day, ends up being a pretty solitary activity and having those thoughts in your head too long will make you spiral. Be kind to yourself, be open to feedback when it comes (and learn to distinguish constructive feedback from destructive feedback) and enjoy the exploration of your world and characters.

You are not alone in all of this. If you can, join a group of writers you can talk with, exchange ideas, get feedback from or just exchange memes (the ultimate bonding experience). Don’t be afraid, you’re not alone.

#if: events #latino heritage month #latino authors #interactive fiction #cyoa #choose your own adventure #choose your story

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onestowatch · 3 years

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Aidan Bissett Wants You to Know It’s Okay to Be Alone [Q&A]

Photo: Brooke James

Aidan Bissett’s sunny and effortless disposition contrasts the chaotic ode to classic rock that is his latest track “Dumped.” The introspective and cathartic nature of his latest offering speaks to age-old feelings of heartbreak while doubling as an optimistic reminder that cloudy days cannot last forever.

Releasing soft-spoken tracks followed by headbanging, classic-rock inspired hits, this young artist’s music truly feels alive, shifting and evolving from one release to the next. With a soulful dedication to “music first, lyrics second,” Bissett is steadily creating his own lane defined by a relentless drive for experimentation. We had the chance to talk to Bissett about his creative approach, his latest single, “Dumped,” and plenty more.

youtube

Ones to Watch: So, tell me the story behind “Dumped?”

Aidan Bissett: Wow, that’s a good question. I wish when I wrote it, it came from like, I had just been dumped… Well, okay, I had sort of been dumped. I don’t know how to explain that, but let’s just say I was in a relationship, taking time off, in a sense. When we were writing it, it was me, my friends, Ryan and Sean, and we were writing in a zoom session for like three hours. It was not a good song, and none of the three of us wanted to say it was a bad song. So, we were like, “OK, we are going to go take a break for a little.”

Then I pulled my guitar off the wall and started messing around, because when I get bored, especially in sessions, I like to try and take my mind off things. I’ll play random chords and sing random lyrics, like ad-lib over them just for fun. So, I started playing like three chords that are all throughout “Dumped,” singing this hook line that—it’s going to sound really weird—“I’m taking dumps all the time.” The guy I was producing it with was like, “OK, gross,” but that actually could be really cool… what if we change it to “I’m getting dumped all the time.” And I was like, “Woah.” That’s kind of how it started and we were on a roll and wrote the whole song in two hours.

And the song does mean a lot to me, because I have actually been dumped, multiple times. It sucks, it’s not a fun feeling, so every time I listen to it, it is kind of an “f you” type of song. Like, “yeah, I got dumped but I’m better off on my own anyway.” I always like that feeling better than wallowing in sadness. So, for anyone who does listen to it, I hope that it helps bring you out of the mourn and into a new light.

In the music video, you are seen reading an “Idiot's Guide To Love.” What was the last book you read?

I do love reading, I’ve always liked reading. I have not, in the past year, read a ton of books, which sucks because I actually do like reading. Well, okay, my senior year of high school I read like 13 books but a lot of them were for school. But they were still good books! I’m in the middle of reading Dune, which is very good so far. So, hopefully, I can finish that before the movie comes out. But yeah, I do like reading… when I have the time to sit down with my ADHD mind.

“Dumped” is a noted sonic transition for you. Can you tell me about how you approach your genre-spanning sound?

I don’t really like putting myself in one genre. I’m in a certain lane in the sense I do indie-pop, I do alternative, but I don't want to do straight pop. I feel like it's such a box, and it’s so limiting. I just love exploring different sounds, so even from the start, I put out “Different,” and then the second song was “Worst Girls Of All Time,” which was a completely different sound than the indie-pop wave that “Different” is. So, me putting out stuff like this after “Communication” is me exploring new sounds. To be honest, the things I like to hear always change, the bands that I’m listening to are always changing, and I take a lot of inspiration from a lot of different bands. I just love trying new things. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, but it just keeps me on my toes instead of just doing the same formula over and over again.

What are you listening to right now?

That’s a good question, it’s kind of all over the place. There’s this one girl, Remi Wolf, who I’ve been non-stop listening to… I have been listening to her for a minute. When she put out her first EP, I loved it. But now, she’s putting out these new tracks and Solomonophonic, her producer, he’s just incredible and her voice is incredible. They are doing so many things that just aren’t normal in this time of music; it’s just so her own lane. I find that really inspiring in the sense that she’s carving her own path and not following in the line of others.

I feel like I’m always listening to Wallows no matter what. I always have them ready to go. COIN. Role Model’s rolling out new stuff so I’m excited for that, he’s kind of taking a change in his own discography. [The] sounds that he is doing are definitely a lot different from his earlier stuff. This guy, binki. He’s actually opening for Role Model on this tour. Oh my gosh! His music’s insane, so cool. It’s got so many sounds going on, similar to Remi Wolf, there’s so much going on, you’re like ‘wow.. I’ve never heard something like this before.’

For those who don’t know, you write, record and produce your music all by yourself. Can you walk me through your creative process?

Yeah, I’m very musically-driven. Everyone has their own thing, I feel like a lot of artists, like the Olivia Rodrigo types, are lyrically-driven. I’m definitely music first, lyrics second. So, when I sit down to write something I try and get something I latch onto. I’m like, “Oh, this sounds cool. Lyrics could sound cool over this.” Anytime I go into a session or I’m recording by myself, I try to lay down some form of music, and then I’ll freestyle lyrics or freestyle melodies over the top, or pick a melody I like and throw lyrics over that melody. Whether that’s a hook or a verse, that kind of just depends on how I’m feeling. It’s definitely a bit unconventional compared to other artists. I feel like artists are a bit more put together when it comes to writing music just because I’ve only been doing it for like a year-and-a-half. But I have my own process, and it works. Every time I write something I learn something new. I’m excited to see, even a year from now, what my process will be… and even if it's completely different or efficient, who knows?

Tell me about the influence of music in your childhood and the decision for you to be a musician at a young age - you started playing electric guitar very young - what was your household like? Musical family?

My dad wanted the kids in our family, I have two other siblings, to play an instrument for two years during our young adult life. He wanted us to play piano before we got to pick, so we had two years of piano and then we had to pick an instrument. So, my sister went and played two years of piano and didn’t really stick with it afterward. Then, it was my turn and I was like, “Well, I don’t really want to play piano, can I play guitar?” And since I was the only one who asked, who expressed interest in a different instrument, he was like, “Sure.” I started in second grade and I’ve stuck with it the entire time. I took lessons for years, and that’s how I kind of got into the classic rock scene. My dad was a huge classic rock fan so he showed me all greats… and that was all I listened to for years. It definitely had a large impact on what I did. I would even play in little recitals, and I always played classic rock songs like AC/DC or Guns N’ Roses.

It wasn’t necessarily a musical household, like my dad isn’t musical, my mom isn’t musical. The reason he wanted us to play an instrument is because his mom made him play an instrument as a kid, so he was like, “You guys get to do that, too.” But it is true, one of us ended up using it.

What do you want people to take away from “Dumped?”

It’s an amp-up song. I want them to feel energized, to be happy with yourself. Getting hurt in relationships happens all the time, but it's okay to get hurt in a relationship. It’s kind of how you bounce back, and I want this song to be like a bounce back. Like, you hear it and, “Oh! This is me bouncing back! I don’t need to sit and cry anymore, because that’s not fun.” Sitting and crying is okay, everyone’s done it, but there’s a point that you reach, in that break-up phase, when the crying needs to stop and you need to go out and live and be the person that you are, independently. So, I would hope that it inspires you to be your independent, wonderful self again.

Is there anything else you would like to say about your music, or in general, that you want to take the chance now to say?

Well, I’m sitting on a lot of songs. So, I’m excited to get all the rest out, and again, everything is so diverse. All the music is so diverse, I just feel like each song is its own thing, which I really enjoy. I feel that’s really unique to my own music, where you’re getting something new every time. I’m moving to LA. That’s the other thing. So, if anyone sees me in LA, please stop me and say hello!

#aidan bissett #dumped #interview #pop #indie pop #alternative pop

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neverthelessgreatness · 2 years

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WIP intro: the music n me series !!

Genre: NA contemporary romance

Status: early planning

Goal: 3-4 books (depending on the girls in the band)

A little bit of background:

This entire series was entirely created based off of Margot and Conner (who, to me, are ‘second book’ characters). Margot was actually taken from a novel I drafted last year! All of this series is completely self-indulgent and it’s my way of getting myself to write again! I don’t expect them to be TOO heavy, but I’m also someone who enjoys character growth and writing things with fluff and also substance lol

Find the playlist here (x)

**all of these synopsis blurbs are violently rough... literally the third book has no plot yet and I don’t have any idea if I’m adding in a fourth member of the band smh... just take this how it is atm and you’ll get updates LOL

ALL THE WRONG WAYS

book one

status: planning

Synopsis:

Yasmine’s ex boyfriend needs to get off her mind. He’s not that cute, not that special, and not that good of a guy…

But every song she’s written is about him, and every time she thinks she’s over it, she’s not.

She needs a distraction, and fast.

So, there are two things that can distract her: finally starting a band to compete in a record label’s battle of the bands to prove to her parents that she’s not going to waste her life away in a career with no payoff… and a boy.

Lucky for her, William Grant from high school has come into his own and lives just down the hall from her in her apartment building. Hot, a little dorky, but definitely attractive- and a med student.

Will Grant is everything that Yasmine needs to get her shit together. So, when she proposes a one-month plan as a last-ditch effort to show her ex-boyfriend up, he surprisingly agrees… on the condition that she puts him in contact with her father (the greatest surgeon on the east-coast).

Easy, right? Except for the fact that Will is actually attractive, and smart...

Suddenly, Yasmine is wrapped up in something that was supposed to be fake that feels so dangerously real.

WE CAN’T KEEP MEETING LIKE THIS

book two

status: planning

synopsis:

Margot Argate and Conner Peters hate each other.

Forget the fact that their best friends are dating- all that lies between them is fury and annoyance.

Oh, and that one time they slept together.

As Margot struggles to get her life under control after being the bassist for a band that has ultimately taken off overnight, she finds herself thrown together again and again with Conner in a series of… unfortunately fortunate events.

But Margot doesn’t know the first thing about love. All she knows is that people she loves like to leave- and Conner is the last person on this earth to be able to stay.

Loud mouth, adrenaline seeking, idiot Conner.

If there was one word to describe Margot’s world, it’s fuck.

TO THE BEAT

book three

Status: vibes n some names LMAO (Brae and Ellie <3)

Synopsis:

once I have one, it’ll go here u swear xx just know it’s gay

SHANI + OLLIE

book four

Status: untitled & unplanned lol just some potential(??) names

#writers on tumblr #my work in progress #romance novels #writing update #author wip #writing wip

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fy-2pm · 3 years

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[TRANS] 2PM's Junho 'ESQUIRE' Interview

Summer 2021, Drunk in Junho

The hot and gentle story Junho and I shared with "W by Windsor"

Q: The book "If Our Language is Whiskey" by Haruki Murakami is chosen for the shooting with "W by Windsor" (Hereinafter "W"). It's the perfect combination for a "Whiskey trip" to Scotland and Ireland with the 100% Scottish "W."

JH: This will be interesting. I like reading books. I've been reading a lot lately.

Q: What kind of book do you usually read?

JH: I don't have a favorite reading here. I try to read different kinds of genre and not just focus on a specific genre. Recently, I am into how to handle diseases and death. I read a variety of books. It feels good to know something. If I know about a certain topic, when we talk, we can share our opinions. Even while I was in the army, I don't want to miss the trend so I read more at that time.

Q: You read more during your army. Did anything change since you were discharged?

JH: It's been more than 100 days since my discharge and it's been really hectic. These were the busy days that I've missed, but I managed to adjust really quickly without any hard feelings. It feels like there is no empty space. I don't think I have changed a lot but I think my mindset has changed a bit. Comparing with the past, I want to treat everything more leisurely. I don't want to feel the rush, the struggle or under attack. I just want to do things step by step. That kind of feeling? I think the people around me can see this feeling too.

Q: That's right. 2PM members said "Junho has a hot temper"

JH: When I say I will do something, I will do it right away. I've achieved a lot because of this personality. However, as I look back to myself, there are times when I think if I should have thought about a little more.

Q: During the "Army hiatus" you received a nickname 'My House Junho'. When you find out, how did you react?

JH: It was at autumn 2019 when I just started serving. Because I really miss the stage, I've been looking up 2PM and my own videos. I could see that the number of views for "My House Junho" has increased gradually. I just thought, 'This will come to a stop soon'. It's like an event.

Q: It's a video but there are some interesting comments. It feels like a playground.

JH: It's becoming like a community. In there, it feels like you are competing with each other to see who can write something more interesting. It's amazing. One of the most memorable commend said, "I only realize what is spring after the flowers fell." It sounds sad but feels good. (Note: This is a common Korean phrase meaning I only realized something or someone is good after he/she it's gone)

Q: Spring has come again. You have come again.

JH: It means that we were like flowers. But ironically, I don't think we are gone yet.

Q: The more you think about it, the more touching this is.

JH: I think "My House" received a lot of love not because of algorithm or luch, but because fans have real interest in the song. Just by sharing the video, clicking to view and leaving comments, there are all hard work by fans. This is making it fun and we came across a situation where we can do this all over again. Thank you very much.

Q: It becomes a famous "Icon of Hard Work" and it's seeing the light.

JH: For whatever it is, my personality is to try to achieve it. At one point in time, I thought making an effort itself is difficult. After living like this for a long time, I got used to it and now, I don't think of it as making an effort anymore. I've been working hard on my exercise and die but this just become part of my daily life. But I do think about, 'How much long do I have to do this?' (Laugh).

Q: I think you're a person who will not give up. Junho played the role of Dong-Woo in the movie <Twenty>, where he gave up his dream and said, "Do you know how hard it i to give up?" Not giving up is hard but giving up is hard, too.

JH: I haven't really thought about give up. But if I do give up, I am going to give it up entirely so that I won't remember what happened. To the extreme where is either all or nothing. This is why I don't give up anymore. If you give up something, all that you have done is like nothing had happened.

Q: Even for giving up perfectionism.

JH: With this personality, it used to make me feel really tired. People around me must be tired, too. At one point in time, I feel this is just the way it is. There is nothing wrong with being perfect. But now, I think it's okay to be imperfect. I came to the realization that I cannot do everything by myself. There are also many people who are helping me.

Q: From "Best Idols" to everyone's "Adult Idols". When it comes to adult, you cannot skip the alcohol.

JH: I can't drink that often because I have to take care of my body with exercise and diet. But I do enjoy it. These days, I cannot just drink freely outside, so I will take a sip at home. Drink a little bit of Whiskey and it will make you fall asleep comfortably. I enjoy my alone time like that at home. I used to think coffee and alcohol are bitter. "Why would I drink that?" Now that I know the taste of coffee, I bought a coffee machine. I am also collecting vintage wine. I buy them and give them to people around me as gifts. Let's say you want to drink beer just as cold as coke. For Whiskey, you pour it out to enjoy the taste and aroma. I don't understand this taste before. I thought it was for just people who enjoy strong flavors.

Q: Knowing the taste of coffee and alcohol is like a symbol of adulthood. Especially for Whiskey, that's like the preservation of a mature adult. Actually, I go a little worried when I saw an article saying Junho is not good at drinking. I wonder if you will go well with "W."

JH: Right, I haven't talk much about alcohol. There were articles like "He could only take one glass of beer" or "He went home so early" for the after parties. I think the fans know that I am a weak drinker but it's not bad for them to think I am cute because of that. But I am not that crazily weak! (Laughs)

Q: There's this article where you said "I usually drink well but I refused to drink at an after party yesterday because of thinks interview". So I thought, "Being a weak drinker self-management is on another level"

JH: For sure, if you have a schedule, you have to have some self control. Even if you drink, just enough to feel good. But even if I drink and go to sleep, I feel refreshed the next day. I don't know if it's because my liver is still in good condition, but I don't usually suffer from hangovers.

Q: Many people say that you will suffer less hangovers drinking Whiskey than other alcohol. I think "W" is good for people like Junho who enjoys drinking comfortably.

JH: I think "W" is especially refreshing. It has a good aroma and it's smooth to swallow. Comparing with other alcohol, Whiskey seems to have a higher entry level but you can have "W" easily. Actually, it has a lower alcohol level than normal Whiskey. During today's filming, I can feel the aroma and I've been sipping little by little. Maybe that's why I feel good now (Laugh).

Q: What food will go well with "W"?

JH: They often have nuts and chocolate with Whiskey but i would like to recommend tteokbokki. It's not the spicy tteokbokki but the one with beef and sweet soy sauce. You may think "What do you mean by having tekkbokki with Whiskey?" Just do it. It goes well together.

Q: How do you usually drink Whiskey?

JH: It all depends on my mood or situation. I think you find your own way that suits you, so you can drink comfortably. If you want to go to sleep quickly, drink it in a small glass in one shot. If you want to watch a movie, drink it cold with ice. I've been drinking Whiskey with ice and that got me interested in big block of ice. I even looked up YouTube videos where bar mixologist carved some ice balls. I even thought about buying an ice ball maker.

Q: It's all about "equipment" (Laugh)

JH: Even for coffee, I started not knowing anything but I was curious. I bought coffee beans and did the grinding myself. But the grinding size is too big so I went to study how to make it smaller. It became more fun. The scope of Whiskey is even wider when you have experience the different between having Whiskey on its own or having it with it.

Q: In JTBC's <Knowing Bros> when talked about the reverse popularity with "My House Junho" Wooyoung said "It's all because of Junho's virtue. Junho is very careful in everything so that he won't hurt the members. He will sacrifice for the team" I wonder why he feels like this.

JH: I am working as 2PM and as an actor, so all my schedules need to go well together. There are times when drama comes, so I have to turn down 2PM activities. I think that can happen but it's normal. As an actor, it's difficult to do other things when you are involve in a drama. Even though, I can multi-task my schedules, it's still a problem I need to solve. So even when I don't have much sleep, I don't want to show I'm tired. I always want to make myself feel good.

Q: I think 2PM's charms are "bonds between members" and "consistency". Both sounds easy but it's difficult to do. How did you keep up?

JH: Consideration is the most important and you should never think selfishly. We have been together for 14 years, so one of us could have done that to another person. We weren't adults when we started, so we are always talking to each other and still is today. Our tastes, our personalities and what we want to do are all different. For sure, we compromise and we give in for others but we became more considerate. This is when you know this friend is so kind and considerate. I think this is similar to what Wooyoung said.

Q: Becoming a senior idol

JH: Over the years, we have accumulated lots of experienced and our fields were being broaden. I think we can be a good example with how we stayed together and continue to work as singers. "Bukae" is the trend these days (Note: Bukae means a second job)

Q: Do you any advice fro the juniors?

JH: Umm, let's do well? (Laugh). There's a big difference between good and bad examples. Always watch what you say. Always watch what you do. I hope we can promote happily with the juniors.

Q: There's this "daily energy". It's the energy that shape your daily life with small changes. What shapes Junho's daily life?

JH: Before the schedules start, I must get up. By doing so, it already shape my day.

Q: The process of being fully occupied and working hard is beautiful. Of course, the results are often great. "W" is also trying to maintain the brand's reputation by carefully selecting the undiluted Scotch Whiskey in Scotland. Junho, I wonder what effort you are making to keep o

JH: And I try not to sleep during my schedules unless I'm very tired. I want to do everything with a clear mind. When you wake up, you're dazing. There was a time when we had schedules at Seoul, Daejeon, Daegu and Busan in different broadcast programs. There was a time when I couldn't sleep on a bed for 2 weeks while we prepared for the end year ceremonies. I was sleeping in the moving car. It was all fun memory but at some point in time, we didn't know how it all went because it was so hectic. I really regret it because I don't want to forget as much as I can. That's why I became interested in photography and videography. I bought a camera and a camcorder to record.

Q: You've been busy since 17. I wonder if you have gone through adolescence.

JH: Of course, I did right? (Laughs). On the other hand, my parents worked in double jobs, so my realization of their importance came a little early. My dad worked as a sea navigator. I didn't see him for 6-12 months so I miss him even more. When I was in elementary school, I went to my mom's workplace and called out to her until she answered me and I cried "I miss you." Now that I think about it, I wonder how busy they were.

JH: I like things that are natural and light. I want to be a person who doesn't provoke or irritate, just like a piece of paper. Sometimes, it can be hard to keep it plain because I have my hot temper and fire but having this mindset keeps me neutralized. In <I Live Alone>, I used the moktak and this is one of my effort to do so. It's relaxing and makes me calmer.

Korean to English translation @JLML718 (Twitter)

#2pm #junho #p: photoshoot #e: interview #e: magazine #esquire #august 2021 issue #era: must

13 notes · View notes

justasparkwritings · 4 years

Text

Illicit Affairs: Clandestine Meetings

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader (barely)

Genre: Angst

Ratings: PG17

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Manipulation, Abuse of Power, Swearing, Negotiations and Contracts

Summary: Namjoon has to grapple with the decisions he’s made and the lives he’s participated in destroying.

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

Namjoon slipped into the conference room, sport coat over a hoodie and matching sweats. His hair quaffed back, glasses on, bag slung across his shoulder. He had been dreading this meeting for weeks, months. Every few years their contract with BigHit needed negotiating, and being the leader, the role of representing the best interest of the seven men fell to him. He loathed negotiations, detested the position they put him in, and absolutely despised the imbalance of power in the meetings. BTS had lawyers, but their lawyers still worked for BigHit. A defunct HR department more so than barristers dedicated to protecting their rights as performers, creators and men. This meeting was going to be worse than the others, if the sinking feeling in his gut was any indication. Not only was their contract nearly up, but they had the precarious position of trying to figure out what would happen during Jin’s military service, which would be followed by Yoongi and the 94’s. He knew the contracts would include some clause or addendum regarding the mandatory order, and he could only guess what new rules management would be placing on them.

The entire Maknae Line was at risk, none of them would step up and lead, but if the plans to postpone service until Jin turned 30 was available, it would give the other members more time to grow out of childish early twenty-somethings into the grown men they had to be. The only bright spot in all of this was the fact that Jin would hopefully be back before the Maknae were truly alone, followed by Yoongi. Namjoon wasn’t comforted by the idea of Jin leading the group, but that was selfishness and pride speaking. Jin would be an excellent leader if given the opportunity.

Namjoon was similarly dreading the conversation because a plan had to be created to mitigate the damage Jungkook was supposedly doing, and to inhibit him from destroying everything BigHit had accomplished in the last decade. Namjoon, being the keeper of the Golden Maknae, was going to be forced to sign papers that ensured Jungkook’s cooperation while he, Ho-Seok, Yoongi and Jin were gone.

The grip BigHit had on the seven members could only be compared to Britney Spears conservatorship. She had her conservators, aka her father… and BTS had Bang.

Bang Si-hyuk was not a vicious man in nature. He was charismatic, charming, determined. He was not cruel, and he didn’t gain pleasure from watching BTS squirm. He had created BigHit to craft and groom Idols, capitalizing on the ever-booming K-Pop network and exploiting the talents of naïve youth and feeding on the despair of distressed parents. He preyed on the hungry, the poor, the outcasts, and he turned them into fucking billionaires. BTS was Midas, and Bang reaped all the benefits.

Bang wasn’t the only one manipulating children, robbing them of their futures, their family, their ability to have any semblance of a normal life. Every other music group and K-Pop mastermind was feeding off of the same labors. Despite the hard facts of the BigHit company, and K-Pop culture, Bang had been wonderful to the boys. He was always laughing and joking with them, encouraging them to explore different musical whims or try new sounds. But he also ran a business, and Namjoon would be hard pressed to forget that fact. No matter how much Bang loved them, they were the golden ticket he’d worked his entire life to find.

Namjoon was let into the conference room, where Bang and the team of BigHit lawyers sat, as well as a few people from marketing. Joon bowed, gave his greetings and sat down.

“Namjoon, how are you?” Bang asked.

“Fine, thank you, and you?” Namjoon was always polite, overly so.

“Good, how’s Y/N?” Bang inquired.

Namjoon cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the mention of his secret partner. “She’s great.”

“Good, now, we wanted to speak to you about Jungkook,” Bang said, directing Namjoon’s gaze to the screen mounted on the wall. A slide show of Jungkook’s misgivings began to play. Namjoon cursed silently. This was the meeting they were having.

“Alright,” Namjoon glanced down from the screen to his bag, where he pulled out and opened his notebook, pen poised at the ready.

“We’re concerned with his displays of disobedience,” Bang continued.

“Can you be more specific?” Namjoon asked.

“The tattoos, the hair colors, the collaborating with less desirable artists, his refusal to participate in V Lives, his general disregard for the rules, and the growing alcoholism,” Bang listed.

“He’s having growing pains,” Namjoon tried to level with him.

“He is grown, he has debuted, he has a contract,” Bang said.

“Jungkook wants to express himself, and he’s trying to find ways to do that,” Namjoon offered. Couldn’t they find a compromise? Not on the drinking, Namjoon would fully admit that was a problem.

“Ways that are damaging to all of you,” The marketing team said, side eyeing Joon.

“Respectfully, they are not,” Namjoon said.

“Jimin is getting tattoos,” Bang retorted.

“Jimin is his own person,” Namjoon rebuffed.

“Jimin is influenced by Jungkook.”

“We’re all influenced by one another, it’s been a decade, we spend every day together, it’s bound to happen.” Namjoon was growing impatient.

“You were supposed to keep an eye on him, but between you and Jin, you’ve led him astray,” Bang accused.

“I’m not sure that’s fair,” Namjoon said, breathing heavily through his nose, “Jungkook is making decisions for himself, he can decide what to do with his body. It’s his after all.”

“The decisions he is making effect all seven of you,” Bang countered.

“They aren’t effecting us negatively, ARMY loves his tattoos, they spend so much time trying to decipher what they mean. His entire hand is dedicated to BTS and ARMY.”

“They do not fit the image of this company,”

“Then why didn’t you fire him? He is always covered, always. We all are,” Namjoon shook his head.

“Aside from the tattoos, his desire to not participate in group filmings is unacceptable, and there’s still the problem of his drinking.”

“Have you had this conversation with Jungkook?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, but you need to follow through on your obligations, Namjoon,” Bang’s words cut.

“Yes sir, I will.” Namjoon bowed.

“Jungkook needs to know his place if he is to make it through your military service. The four of you leaving in succession will destroy everything we’ve built. Jungkook and the Maknae line will be what remains while you are serving and recovering from active duty. If Jungkook doesn’t know what his place is, you will have nothing to return to.” Bang was an absolutist. Nothing was grey, it was clearly defined or could be with a few lines in their next contract.

“Jungkook is the best of all of us, he can handle it.”

“He needs to stop collaborating with low charting American artists, and British pop groups formed on reality shows. It’s lowering exposure in western markets and putting a damper on sales of BTS albums. He also needs to stop getting tattoos. A full sleeve is more than enough.”

“Sir, what will Jungkook do when he’s, thirty?”

“Depends what his contract says.”

Namjoon bowed his head.

“The Maknae line needs to be prepared for when the four of you are gone. They do not have a clear leader; they spend their time giggling and joking around. Who will step up?”

“Taehyung would be a great leader, so would Jungkook or Jimin. The Maknae work well together, as a subunit they are strong. They are excellent singers and dancers, Jungkook has excelled at creating videos, Jimin’s song writing has improved ten times over as has his leadership, and Taehyung has excellent taste, an impeccable palate as an art director. The three of them are capable of handling themselves, when Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung are done with service, the five of them will excel at creating their own work.”

“Namjoon, you seem to think that people want music produced by three vocalists,”

“Taehyung can rap, so can Jungkook.”

“What makes you so certain they’ll rise to the occasion?” Bang asked.

“They have to and they will,” Namjoon said, voice determined.

“Good, now, your contracts are coming up in a few months, and we need to look at a few details,” Bang motioned for the legal team to join, and they passed Namjoon a copy of their current contract. The marketing team left quietly, bowing and slipping out the door almost unnoticed.

“Shouldn’t Jin be here? Or the other members?” Namjoon asked, eyes scouring the familiar pages. “I don’t think I should be the lone member in these negotiations.”

“You’re the leader,” Bang stated.

“It’s their careers and futures, sir,” Namjoon bowed his head, unwilling to show any disrespect.

“The decision was made that you were the leader, are you not?”

“I am but –

“But nothing, you are the liaison, you will communicate any changes in your contracts to them before they come in to sign them.” Bang said. The lawyers nodded in unison.

“Are there changes?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, we have put a note by all the changes, take a minute to read them.” One of the lawyers said.

Namjoon glanced at the notes sticking out, how could there be so many changes? His eyes glanced over the first change.

Heretofore, no member of BTS may publicly or privately engage in romantic relationships with members of the same or opposite sex. Promiscuous or philandering behavior will not be tolerated and could result in expulsion or a financial penalty.

Any article, Tweet, TikTok or Instagram post about any relationship that a BTS member is engaging in will result in said member paying the fee for scrubbing said incident from the media and any subsequent scandals or fines.

He read it again.

“Why this change in relationship status?”

“It’s not a change, but a clarification,” A lawyer said.

“A clarification of what? That if anyone is attracted to the same sex, they can’t be with them?” Namjoon raised his eyebrow, unsure who told Bang the Kinsey scale leanings of the seven members.

“It is to cover all bases,” The lawyers ensured. “To prohibit unfavorable pairings, pregnancies, diseases or most likely, scandals.”

“How much is this fee?” Namjoon asked, eyes wide.

“Depends on the member, some ten thousand, others, hundred thousand,” One of the lawyers said.

“What about me?” He whispered.

“Your contract continues to state that you are allowed to date as long as it is kept 100% in secret, absolutely private, and should you break up, she signs an NDA stating that she will not speak ill of you, your relationship, BTS or any members in perpetuity. Should she break this agreement, a fine of one million dollars will be paid.” Another lawyer answered.

Namjoon nodded, the agreement of your relationship had caused a lot of fights, a lot of bickering, a lot of tears. Namjoon had to be certain you were the one in order to get Bang to let him even take you out or call you.

Namjoon adjusted his glasses before moving to the next note.

BigHit remains the sole proprietor of all content, music, lyrics, and productions created by BTS. This includes all solo work created on company property, with company studios and materials. All artwork, publishing rights and revenue belongs in perpetuity to BigHit. BTS members have access to their catalogue and revenue through BigHit’s legal team and through written permission from management. All recordings, voice memos, music videos and song samples used in any BTS created content may not be used by any members for solo projects not produced by BigHit.

Namjoon read the words over and over. He glanced at their old contract, noting the slight changes in the paragraph from their previous agreement.

In perpetuity to BigHit.

Everything they’d ever made, everything they’d ever done, from debut to now, belonged to BigHit. This wasn’t new information, this wasn’t shocking, but in perpetuity, forever and ever and ever… Namjoon couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Can I take this home?” Namjoon asked, looking at the team, a cold sweat coating his back.

“Both copies?” A lawyer asked hesitantly.

“I need to read through it, to process it, I need a little time, if allowed,” Namjoon cleared his throat.

“Fine, bring your thoughts to our next meeting. You all must sign this before your current contract is up, and before one of you leaves for Military Service. You have a week,” Bang and his crew stood up, and Namjoon followed suit, bowing before collecting his items.

As he entered the dorm, he noted the chaotic calm of their living quarters. Though they drifted from their own apartments into the shared space, it was common that in the evenings they would share a meal, watch a movie or play games together. Jungkook was trying to beat Yoongi in some video game, Jin was laughing with Ho-Seok and Taehyung, and Jimin was vocalizing in the kitchen, making what looked like a cup of tea. Namjoon nodded at them waving hello before disappearing into his room.

He sat at his desk, looking at his blossoming plants, and pulled the papers out, moving from the first few pages to the next tabs.

He found the corresponding paragraph in their current contract and compared.

Their current contract stipulated that BTS would be credited as producers only on tracks they produced a minimum of 50% of. The new contract stipulated that they had to produce 75% of the track in order to receive credit.

The next line stated that lyrical credits only went to artists that wrote 2/3 of the lyrics of every song, rap lines included. The remaining percentage went to the producer.

Namjoon stared at the page. How would that be possible, with seven members, to receive credit for anything? As he continued reading, he found himself growing angrier and angrier at every page. He knew he’d signed his life away; he knew it years ago. But this? This was tearing his limbs off his body and feeding it to the wolves.

He picked up his phone and called you.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” You asked, chipper disposition finding a way to travel across the globe to Korea.

“The new contract is, it’s fucking awful,” Namjoon said, dropping his pen and running a hand through his hair.

“How could it be worse?” You questioned. “It’s like, two hundred pages of absolute bullshit.”

“The phrase in perpetuity has been used more than once,” He said.

“No!” You gasped.

“They added new language about dating and relationships too,” Namjoon told you.

“With the sub section that you, as leader, have been afforded this one privilege over the others?” You inquired, setting your sleepy-time tea down.

“You know that’s only in my contract,” He said, a faint smile on his lips.

“Still, they aren’t changing that?” You hinted at your worry.

“I’m surprised they haven’t put more stipulations on it: Namjoon can date but only Korean women of a certain age and height,” He laughed darkly.

“Namjoon can date but cannot spend the night or engage in sexual activity, or any activity that could lead to the creating of a child, including jacking off in a hot tub,” You deadpanned.

“Namjoon can date, but only if she has no idea who BTS is,” Namjoon chuckled.

“Hmm, seems like you’re going to an indigenous tribe with no internet,” You suggested.

“I just want you,” Namjoon whispered.

“I know, babe,” You said. “tell me more about the contract.”

“I don’t know what to do, it’s iron clad, they’ve got us where they want us, and they won’t let go,” He sighed heavily, already exhausted and he hadn’t moved past the fifth post-it.

“They’re trying to get everything they can from you before you guys go serve,” You stated.

“It just seems so, degrading.”

“That they want all these things from you?” You asked.

“That they think they can control us,” Namjoon said.

“I thought they did,” You replied.

“I, yeah, yeah they do.” He sighed again, his heart weighing heavy.

“So, what’s so different about this time?” You asked.

“They only ever negotiate with me, they never speak to the other guys,”

“And?” You pressed.

“And, I have to read this, ask the lawyers questions, and present it to the guys. They’re going to absolutely shit themselves. It literally says that members are required to complete a minimum of six hours of V Live per year, with a bonus given every additional hour completed,”

“What?” Your gasp was beyond audible.

“And, if a scandal ever arises, we have to pay to have it wiped from the media.”

“I mean, okay, that one I can see making a little sense.”

“Someone must’ve tipped them off to who we’re attracted to, because there’s a new stipulation that you can’t date any one of any sex, period.”

“Shut up! They can’t do that!”

“Oh, they did,”

“Holy fuck, they did… Who told?” You asked.

“No idea, but they’re going to be so angry,” Namjoon agreed.

“The discrimination…”

“The worst part? They own everything,” Namjoon said.

“Is that different?” You wondered. Namjoon had asked you to read over the contract years ago, when it was up for another negotiation. You’d asked your dad to take another look, his expertise in the industry proving to be useful. He didn’t have anything to say other than he felt bad for BTS, no rights, no representation, no ability to change the situation.

“In perpetuity, no chance to buy it back, no chance to own anything we’ve ever created, from debut to now.”

“Oh Joon,” You could hear the despair in his voice, the anguish, the hurt. Everything he’d ever worked for wasn’t his, and he knew it never would be.

“I feel so, responsible, like everything’s my fault,” Namjoon said dejectedly.

“Well, are you?” You pushed.

“It didn’t used to be this way. I mean, it did. They picked me first, they chose me to start this whole thing. They wanted me to help create this band that could be the next big thing. It was all I wanted, to rap, to make music, to help people heal through music, like I did. I had influence on who they put in the group, on why we have seven members instead of five or three… they listened to me, my vision… It was my group; sure, they pulled in Seokjin and gave me a list of people to look at… but BTS was mine. I signed the first contract, I read the terms and conditions, I signed us up for this.”

“Namjoon, you didn’t know,” Your heart was breaking.

“I knew better than to sign it all away,” His voice cracked.

“You were a child, Joon, a child,” You told him.

“I knew-

“No, you didn’t, they preyed on you. They used your insecurities, your desolation, your pain, and they fucking groomed you to need them, to be indebted to them. They did this to you.” Namjoon listened as you started crying, your words trying to speak the truth he couldn’t see.

“But I signed the contract,” Namjoon said. “It was impossible that we’d be anything.”

“You became everything,” You said.

“I signed their lives away, our rights, our work… I signed Jungkook,” Namjoon hadn’t realized the tears that had started falling. He let the weight of his statement run through him as the tears, like a winter storm, didn’t cease. “I signed Jungkook’s future away. He has nothing because of me.”

“Namjoon,”

“He can’t ever have a wife, he can’t have a family, he’s working himself to an early grave, he has no ability to understand what life is like outside of this, no ties to who he is as a person because he doesn’t know. Jungkook is an amalgamation of the six of us, he isn’t even his own! Nothing is his, and it’s my fucking fault.”

You listened to Namjoon’s cries, his sobs giving way to the dark thoughts he’d been avoiding for years. You listened to your cries mixing with his, distress flowing between receivers. You listened as he tried to rationalize it, tried to make sense of the damage he’d done. But he couldn’t, and you didn’t have anything to offer.

“Can you talk to Seokjin or Yoongi?” You whispered, Namjoon’s sobs subsiding.

“I’m not supposed to,” Namjoon said in between ragged breaths.

“Fuck supposed to, do you want to talk to them?”

“Yeah,” He said, sniffling the chunks of snot back into his nasal passages.

“I think it would be good, healthy for you to share this burden with them. You can’t carry this alone, Namjoon, not anymore,” You encouraged.

“I know,”

“Please, talk to them.” You said, voice soft.

“I will, I will.” Namjoon promised.

“I love you, Kim Namjoon, endlessly,” You said, the declaration firm and exact as it flowed from your lips. It punctured the air around Namjoon, and he glanced to the singular photo he had framed of you.

“I love you too, endlessly.” He whispered.

As he hung up, eyes drifting towards the papers on his desk, he realized the saving grace of clandestine meetings: no one expected you to show their truth.

Next: A Million Little Times

44 notes · View notes

radbutsafe · 3 years

Note

ALL FUCKIN 35 OF THEM SKLNWESDJFPXO

I SHOULDVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

A three! I think I’m mid range cause I ain’t terrible but there is still shit I gotta improve and grow in my writing

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

to manifest what canon won’t give me and to write more! (though yes it is mainly about the smooching and the— I’ll stop there LOL)

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hm! My weird research details? I’m that “fun fact, did you know...” in my fics sometimes LOL! I plan on giving a penthouse for erina in a fic and I went through penthouse listings in Japan for floor layouts and locations💀 my research gives me inspo and depth to stuff I think I lack in comparison to others sometimes.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

In terms of fellow fic writers, one of them I can’t name here but she’s an inspiration with her exceptional gift for prose period and her lovely skill at comedy! I want to be as funny as her when I write, I love her ironic situational humor. Other fic writers are @takoyakitenchou, @royaldragonsevgisi15 who I always love sharing ideas with and motivate me to create more! For non-fic writers it would be V.E. Schwab, Leigh Bardugo, Oda, and Horikoshi! The last two may be mangaka, however they are writers as well to create their stories! The depth these creators have given their worlds and interesting characters theyve given life to are all what I aspire to be like!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

so far uh?? hm everything I’m currently writing are wips lol!! im proud of my wip that has been nicknamed ‘soma panics’ that is a multi-chapter fic that spans like probs 20 plus chapters maybe

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

dialogue! it’s so much fun! and character thoughts. I’ve said to people I may be better suited for script writing

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I think it’s description, of like setting and showing action. also an expansion of my vocabulary LOL

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

erina! I think it’s because canon has shown us many of her different faces and range of emotion.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

SOMA!! chill ass mofo whos more carefree compared to the common shonen protagonist! for other shokugeki characters I’m not sure just yet because I haven’t flexed my fingers enough for the rest of them.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

I guess I should say romance cause that’s what I mostly write LOL!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

sorina and I try to get them to smooch eventually KEK and yeah it’s..usually romantic fluff lmao

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

HONESTLY ALL OF THEM but “soma panics” is my brain child

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

pretty sure it’s digimon....

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

currently shokugeki no soma!!!!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

uhhhh I guess SNS? LMAO fandoms...all have their quirks to them.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

characters cuddling!!!! or getting the urge to smooch!!!!

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

unrequited love GOOD FUCKIN BYEEEEEE

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

I have plot ideas thst can be wild potentially but so far nothing fits this criteria so far that I actually have written.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between?

depends on the fandom, but if written well, all of it!

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff?

shippy 100% like I said I like smoochin

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

romantic is...*drumroll* SORINA! platonic, soutaku and erina and alice!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Sometimes! There are times songs will be on loop and times I just shuffle a playlist. and if I’m writing in random bursts it’ll be with no music but it really does depend lmao I think music is when I’m forcing myself to write?

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

completely independent ideas, I’ve realized in the past prompts shoot me in the foot often unless I luckily figure something out. but I’m often driven by my own sporadic self interest with shitty ping ponging attention

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

multi-chap I guess cause I can post without being finished LOLLL but tbh can I really answer? I haven’t finished anything.....

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

I can’t answer this question imo because I haven’t finished a fic yet so technically stuff could all fit in the one fic?

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

MYSTERY AND CRIME! I love the genre and I have plot ideas once a blue moon but I can’t dive in because I want to make details that work and reduce plot holes where suspension of disbelief isn’t as needed. I need to study it more (I need to study all the details for any of my fics imo to be confident sometimes LOL)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I can say one comment was the nicest because I’ve gotten comments that have given me quite the smiles to my face many times! I know this is a cop out but it’s true!

IS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY UNTIL REINA SENT ME THE FOLLOWING ON DISCORD LIKE TWENTY MINS AGO:

and also rad. i am never this vocal about my emotions like EVER but this needs to be said your fics are obviously far from perfect, as are mine and everyone else's. but the thing about your works is that they're so well-sanded that it's impossible to find any rough edges or faults in them in terms of cohesion to a plot. your cast is never OOC and the amount of effort you devote to developing your takes on the characters as accurately as possible is unimaginably awe-inspiring.

BITCH I WANNA CRY 😭

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing?

I’d like to believe I take it often well to try and improve because that’s always my goal. if someone is rude lol that’s not constructive snd is unhelpful. If I disagree with criticism I’ll explain why !

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Not yet, but I have some plot ideas I think will let me test this.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

F L U F F.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

elliott fuji, a japanese-american award winning photographer who is erina’s boyfriend in ‘soma panics’ which..causes soma’s panic LOL he’s 30 with slightly wavy black hair. I still haven’t pinpointed his personality just yet...he kind of humble brags for sure an artsy fucker and flirts maybe I’ll make him a lil shy though. he teaches sometimes, and becomes an adjunct photography professor in Tokyo so he can be with erina.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

a cook is unfashionably late in realizing his feelings.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I am a slow. so slow. motivation who is she? I also write out of order, unfortunately a bit too often.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

this should be for the fic ‘soma panics’ it’s either megumi or satoshi talkin to him rn, I’m leaning towards satoshi

“You thought she would always wait for you, didn’t you Soma-kun? To always welcome you home.”

Soma drags his palms down his face and groans. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t shy from confrontation but this is a whole different ballgame. Soma doesn’t play any ball.

“I guess..?” Is his reply, because he thinks he isn’t sure how to answer that.

“You guess?”

Just being questioned again is enough to crack Soma’s pathetic facade as if it was dropped chinaware and he lets out the longest sigh.

“No.”

Coming home means coming home to Nakiri Erina too.

Nakiri Erina is his forever.

this is @takoyakitenchou’s excerpt she’s most proud of that I’ve written, which is also from you guessed it, the long fic soma panics

SOMA: I am, I mean I will be, I swear I will always come home to you, not spend as much time abroad, once I’m done with work I’ll come right back. I’ll make sure to message you. Nakiri, I’m in love you with you. Maybe for a really long time. You know how I say I dedicate my food to you? My dad—my dad said that the key to become a good chef is to find someone to dedicate your cooking to. A special someone. For my dad it was my mom, you know? For me it’s...

(this is a good piece of dialogue tbh so I am also proud of this)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I’ve mentioned it throughout this but the WIP I’ve nicknamed ‘soma panics’ is something I’m super excited to write, but it’s going on slowly...and almost completely out of order. out of all of my writing it showed off that particular habit of mine, along with “what is this, a shoujo manga?!” though the latter is currently being written chronologically now that I’ve posted chapter one and is pretty solid in direction. it was originally supposed to be a one shot but I got impatient and wanted to post at least something for the sorina / soueri fandom.

however, because ‘soma panics’ (I won’t call it that LOL) is my baby I want to keep true to my rule of refusing to post it until I have a draft of the entire fic finished and I’m satisfied with the main points pretty much. due to my writing out of order, I’m worried I’ll change my mind about scenes or want to reflect things in earlier chapters for later ones etc etc

I joined the SnS fandom extremely late, as season five was airing. I was a fan of the manga five years ago and dropped it because I forgot to check for updates when I caught up 😔 I really want to bang out the different fics and aus for sorina that I have before the fandom fizzles out entirely but tbh I’m writing for myself, I’m manifesting what I want to see and I’ll just share it with all my friends to read if no one else will. cause I’m slow broski I dunno what writing fast even is like LMAO I do really want to write faster though, so I can contribute more and let the words free from the discord dms....

#ask meme #ask rad shit #writing #writing by rad #fanfic #reina girl u put me thru it I swear lol #thank u for sending!!#ur amazing!!!!

14 notes · View notes

d-criss-news · 4 years

Text

Royalties Soundtrack Listening Event | Darren Criss Chat (July 7th, 2020)

Darren Criss 18:02:04

wait ha

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Darren Criss 18:02:08

sorry yall

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Darren Criss 18:02:12

this is confusing me of course

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Darren Criss 18:02:29

this is new for me too friends

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Darren Criss 18:02:45

well i'm here but I can't hear shit so gimme a sec

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Darren Criss 18:04:00

well I'll just keep typing here guys

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Darren Criss 18:04:04

bro

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Darren Criss 18:04:07

wilma

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Darren Criss 18:04:15

i'm tryin

Darren Criss 18:04:57

21kxuv372ubcprrbpiefadt6i

What was your favorite song to write for the show?

They each were really fun so that's hard to say but Hate That I Need You surprised the hell outta me

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Darren Criss 18:05:30

bettic72

darren non capisco un cazzo

anchio pero sti cazzi siamo qui

Darren Criss 18:05:49

genevievephillips

point and laugh at darren

yes let's laugh at him

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Darren Criss 18:06:18

2162bkuccm7xje6yfgmuzrnyq

You inspired me to write my own songs 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

thanks for writing the first positive thing I've seen on this. That's wonderful! I hope to hear them!

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Darren Criss 18:06:43

clo :)

i love that we are all grandparents when it comes to this

thank you for using the appropriate WE pronouns ha yeah this shit is confusing

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Darren Criss 18:08:44

zcvmtsgee5mom80oxeesa4v11

Darren how do you deal with stage fright .... i’ve been preforming in front of people for a while and i i still get scared . Does it ever go away ?

i guess it depends on how big the crowd is. everybody's different but I will say any kind of fright means you care, which is a good thing! Also the thing people forget about performing, for the most part, is you can't SEE the audience, most of the time they're in the dark. That's why performing for friends or in a small space where you can see everyone is much more nerve-racking

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Darren Criss 18:08:57

Dana

Darren can we have a royalties tour once rona is over???

wouldn't that be fun!

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Darren Criss 18:09:15

emilybutcher30

darren can you start streaming on twitch please haha i love you

ha can't compete with King Urie man

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Darren Criss 18:10:06

jake2000w

Darren, I know it’s all weird right now, but do you have any idea when we might see Nerdy Prudes Must Die?

what a good question. I have no idea but I've been wanting to see that show for almost as long as I've wanted to make Royalties. The boys have been talking about that one for a while now.

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Darren Criss 18:10:16

jesiqseigle56

Can you like respond .

like yeah

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Darren Criss 18:10:27

abbyforsmark

has Darren even said anything on this?

nope nothing

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Darren Criss 18:12:39

u6iczx4gua0att2g4kd2vdzwe

Did you write each of the songs with the performers in mind or did you cast them afterwards?

great question. Except for "Also You," which was written with Jackie Tohn for Jackie Tohn, we had no idea who would sing each song. I did the demos for almost all of them and then we had to pitch actors/artists to see if they'd be interested... which wasn't as hard (luckily) as seeing if they were AVAILABLE... which many weren't given the short time we had to make the show. Hopefully we can get some of those folks on for the next season IF THEY'LL LET US HAVE ONE!

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Darren Criss 18:13:52

delfi

darren royalties is so good i'm fucking proud of you

thanks for watching it, truly. I know the Quibi thing is strange for people so I appreciate you giving it all a chance : )

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Darren Criss 18:14:04

Caitlyn A :)

if you see this kick your shoes off

I would but no shoes

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Darren Criss 18:14:27

t59glm18dkw84n64l72jcuvpc

come to the uk challenge

god i wish.

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Darren Criss 18:15:39

damn someone said "travel to UK challenge" and I meant to respond "find a vaccine challenge"

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Darren Criss 18:17:08

i can't hear any of these songs but I"m just gonna start saying random shit about them

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Darren Criss 18:17:16

first off, i really wanted a theme song

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Darren Criss 18:17:23

that was a whole thing

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Darren Criss 18:19:18

Had to cut through a lot of red tape to make sure we had that silly song in there. We were already in the middle of post production when I finally got it approved, but it had to be under 15 seconds. I wrote 3 diff versions. So glad it ended up working. Theme songs accomplish so much in such a short period of time. Establishes tone. Gives the audience an almost Pavlovian response to the familiarity of the characters... I'm happy with it

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Darren Criss 18:20:12

also the "doo doo doo" lyrics are meant to sound like "scratch vocals" when songwriters record vocals with temporary gibberish lyrics with the intent of filling them in with real ones later

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Darren Criss 18:22:29

Just That Good was a concept that started the entire 1st season, and it was one of those instant-songs where Nick and Matt told me the title and I immediately had the hook just from those words. That only happens every once in a while and I was so happy it did for that song. The tricky part was writing the rest of it, but the back half of the song with the chorus repeating that one refrain over and over- that was the melody from the get go

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Darren Criss 18:23:08

I'll get back to Break it In, kick your shoes/let your hair, and kong later... i'll just go off on this one

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Darren Criss 18:23:48

so I wanted to nod to the grandeur of everyone's favorite vampire elf, Jared Leto

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Darren Criss 18:24:05

not HIM specifically, but 30 seconds to mars' very BIG music videos

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Darren Criss 18:24:29

i dont jared is a buncha self centered nutcases like our guys in SWITCHBACK JACKET

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Darren Criss 18:24:37

* i don't think Jared...

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Darren Criss 18:25:38

anyway yeah "so much better..." comes from a lot of the 90s alt rock that I grew up on, and the mix of that sound with a bit of electronic production was an effort to contemportize it as much as possible

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Darren Criss 18:26:26

but the rhythm guitar, lots of power chords and high octaves were all harkening to my fave bands like Lit and Eve 6... but put through a strange bizzaro nickleback/creed performance filter

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Darren Criss 18:26:55

"make you come true" is obviously a very salacious play on words

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Darren Criss 18:28:27

so the only way to make it feel earnest is if we made the track itself sexy as possible. A lot of the songs, even without being written, leant themselves to a certain genre just by the title, and this one was kind of a no-brainer. Sexy mid tempo r&b. And I didn't even know we'd get Jordan Fisher to do it- who SMASHED the vocal.

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Darren Criss 18:29:42

lauraacampbell-12

DARREN CHORDS OR LYRICS FIRST WHEN WRITING A SONG?

it's different every time but for this show specifically it's always title/idea first, and then the song comes from there. But that's because we're writing a show, so we have the luxury of getting to write from a specific place. It's much harder to do that in your own life when you just want to pull a title/idea from your own experience of life. I commend people that do that all the time.

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Darren Criss 18:30:06

what's NUTS about prizefighter is...

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Darren Criss 18:30:24

it was originally a song called LONG RANGER that BONNIE MCKEE sang, who I wrote the song with

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Darren Criss 18:30:38

and in the video we had CHRISSY TIEGEN lipsynching

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Darren Criss 18:30:44

it was bananas

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Darren Criss 18:31:26

we ultimately couldn't use the song because of some complicated writers shit- not too dissimilar from the things we explore in our own show, which is just totally ironic.

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Darren Criss 18:32:56

we were so bummed that we couldn't use the song but I'm actually really really happy with PRIZEFIGHTER. I love the song, and I love how it turned out production wise. I love how much of a massive influence latin x rhythms have had across the entire spectrum of mainstream music, so I wanted try my own hand at nodding to it!

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Darren Criss 18:33:08

Lara :)!

Ahhhhh so was that the pilot song you were talking about last week?

that's the one

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Darren Criss 18:33:45

hbz3jctrg5rwwma640hahffvt

You have inspired me to learn piano I already know how to play teanage dream now

you can thank Bonnie Mckee aka Kimmy Kelly for writing that song!

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Darren Criss 18:34:01

ok then there's the k pop song

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Darren Criss 18:34:08

honestly i had no idea where I was gonna start on this one

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Darren Criss 18:34:22

full props to the brilliant CJ Baran who I wrote this song with

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Darren Criss 18:34:39

we were just toying around with very industrial-sounding samples

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Darren Criss 18:35:21

and I started singing Edvard Grieg's "in the hall of the mountain king"

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Darren Criss 18:35:33

and he was the guy that was like YEAH JUST PUT IT IN THERE

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Darren Criss 18:35:46

and i realized, oh yeah, that song is public domain

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Darren Criss 18:35:59

and kinda ties perfectly to the nature of Elia Peck and his songwriting... huh.

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Darren Criss 18:36:05

So we went for it from there.

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Darren Criss 18:36:17

based the lyrics off of what the Neals say in the room.

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Darren Criss 18:36:34

and then just wrote a bunch of ALMOST nonense lyrics about things that you could HATE that you NEED

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Darren Criss 18:36:40

things like available wifi...

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Darren Criss 18:37:01

artistinal mai-tais.... yeah I guess if you really really liked those you could HATE that you NEED them...

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Darren Criss 18:37:04

etc etc

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Darren Criss18:38:16

but the idea was to have Mariam Hale's character hardly do ANYTHING on the track, since she, as the audience sees, doesn't really have much to offer... so we just built it around this huge track with crazy lyrics that just tees up a tag for her to say without even having to sing: I HATE THAT I NEED YOU

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Darren Criss18:38:43

2235n5s2qk5hjsujbhk5ilpva

I have classes in 10 minutes, and I'm not leaving until you dedicate a Royalties song to me.

looks like you're gonna miss calss

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Darren Criss 18:39:09

"calss" ha. which is like "class" but like... different.

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Darren Criss 18:39:32

alrighty PERFECT SONG

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Darren Criss 18:39:38

i really love this song as well

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Darren Criss 18:40:02

the reveal of this song is that they keep talking about this "perfect song" they've written

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Darren Criss 18:40:26

in other words we're teeing up a pretty big expectation of what a perfect song could possibly sound like

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Darren Criss 18:40:36

the reveal of course is that the song itself is in fact just called "perfect song"

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Darren Criss 18:40:43

which is ABOUT a perfect song

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Darren Criss 18:41:07

and about TRYING TO WRITE a perfect song, and how that's not necessary when you have someone that IS the perfect song

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Darren Criss 18:41:20

when we wrapped our heads around that idea, I really loved it

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Darren Criss 18:42:10

you'll notice we reference a lot of incredible songs, almost citing them as perfect songs themselves

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Darren Criss 18:42:14

ain't no mountain high enough

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Darren Criss 18:42:55

of course leonard cohen's seminal Hallelujah

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Darren Criss 18:44:05

and of course Britney's Oops I Did It Again ha ;)

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Darren Criss 18:45:00

the Oops being a layered joke of being annoyed with oneself that they AGAIN unwittingly wrote a lyric for already massive song, but in doing so citing yet ANOTHER already massive song... if that makes any sense

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Darren Criss 18:45:27

sorry for the typos yall i'm moving fast, i'd never let this shit slide if it wasn't a casual chatroom vibe

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Darren Criss 18:46:37

emzlolly1234

Did you know you wanted there to be a romantic thing between pierce and Sara?? :))))

yes that was actually our original "pilot presentation" episode. the one with the song LONE RANGER and Chrissy Tiegen. It was a longer version of what would become episode 7. We THINK it's a romantic thing but you realize that Sara is just playing Pierce to get the song she needs. That was always the premise yes.

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Darren Criss 18:46:51

luzmargotramos

if you reply with a single dot I'd probably die

then I better steer clear of any dots

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Darren Criss 18:47:04

ALSO YOU was an amazing lightning in a bottle moment

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Darren Criss 18:47:09

FULL CREDIT TO JACKIE TOHN

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Darren Criss 18:47:22

i always enjoy giving credit where credit is due

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Darren Criss 18:48:24

and I came in pretty hot for most of the songs- concepts, chords, style... but this one literally was a simple as Jackie Sitting down and just playing "It's you I love but also you and also you and also you."

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Darren Criss 18:48:37

we all just looked at each other going, welp, yup, that's it, jackie you fuckin rule

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Darren Criss 18:49:28

the song would have ended up very differently if she hadn't brought that to the table. the original episode and song was "one true loves" which isn't nearly as good of a gag/title as "also you"

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Darren Criss 18:49:50

i ended up squeezing "one true loves" into the bridge, but of course, kept ALSO YOU as the main event

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Darren Criss 18:50:02

i will say I was also trying to spoof my brother's old band, FREELANCE WHALES a little bit

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Darren Criss 18:50:26

if you guys know the song "generator first floor" where they sing ay ay ay ay ay a lot...

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Darren Criss 18:50:35

... as a lot of bands and songs had featured at the time...

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Darren Criss 18:51:00

i wanted to put them all in one joke. where a band sang not only hey hey hey but ay and EE and AYE and OH and basically all the vowels

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Darren Criss 18:51:10

which was where the joke of,

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Darren Criss 18:51:20

a, e, i, o, and also u

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Darren Criss 18:51:21

came from

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Darren Criss 18:51:32

which i'm particularly proud of

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Darren Criss 18:51:56

ok let's talk about BREAK IT IN

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Darren Criss 18:54:16

lxucxthxrxnx_

I’m a musician myself (not that great lol) what was it like coming up with the melodic side did you play any instruments for the songs?

i played instruments on all the songs except Break It In and I Hate That I Need You, since those were all electronic. That's not to say i played EVERY instrument but I definitely played AN instrument of some kind for the others.

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Darren Criss 18:55:34

as for break it in... anyway... yeah that was a blast. Nick Lang and I collaborated with my buddy Kendo who goes by the artist name KingJet.

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Darren Criss 18:56:54

Kendo has worked on a lot of legit songs in the hip hop space. For each song I wanted to make sure there was a level of authenticity to what we were doing. I didn't wanna SPOOF the songs. I wanted the songs to sound rock solid and that it would be the LYRICAL CONCEPTS that would be the source of satire. So Kendo was a great guiding light to keep the track as authentic as possible.

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Darren Criss 18:59:47

We explained to Kendo the whole joke concept of the song, which is basically just turning the idea of toxic masculinity on its head, and he was on top of it immediately- when we told him that there's this guy that's really concerned that people think he "fucks too soft" he immediately started spitting out lyrics like the hilariously defiant "I'm the KING OF THE HARD FUCK"

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Darren Criss 19:00:35

which just killed me and Nick. It was just so juvenile that it was adorable to me

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Darren Criss 19:00:57

emzlolly1234

Darren you’ve been here for an hour? That’s the length of royalties man xxx

yeah aint it great

Darren Criss 19:02:21

sophie :)

i personally think you should try your hand at writing a drill song, a british genre of rap that centres around rapping unrelated lyrics in front of chicken shops, personally think it has the right tone for the show for a season two

drill would be siq. I mean, opening the incredible pandora's box of UK based hip hop in general is its own magical wormhole of nuance and history and regional culture. it's amazing. i'd really have to do some homework if I wanted to pull that off!

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Darren Criss 19:02:49

cd2gu4ceqx4am9otf9hzwzivs

he’s talking again guys be worried he might write another essay

ok sorry i'll stop

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Darren Criss 19:02:51

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Darren Criss 19:03:03

cd2gu4ceqx4am9otf9hzwzivs

he’s talking again guys be worried he might write another essay

kidding!

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Darren Criss 19:03:39

fsheldens

when darren actually cares about us 🥺

awww i always do! I just wasn't built for internet stuff.

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Darren Criss 19:04:20

alpermehdi

speaking of nick how was it to work with nick??

the best. Nick is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

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Darren Criss 19:04:51

chloe :)!

what would be ur karaoke song choice from the show?

mighty as kong

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Darren Criss 19:07:32

isa.kowo

How much music theory goes into your songwriting? And did you learn all of it from playing the violin? In what way does it go into your songs?

all GREAT questions. I mean, music theory isn't something you CONSCIOUSLY employ when writing something, it's just that it really helps to know the rules or music when shaping it and trying to maximize its production. And as a matter of fact, yeah, I DID learn most of it playing violin. But when I was playing violin I was ingesting music from the perspective of a student ingesting information, not as a proactive creator putting anything of my own out into the world.

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Darren Criss 19:08:07

Honestly I really didn't start UNDERSTANDING music theory until I started writing music for other people, and noticing certain things and chords and shapes had names and that they could be manipulated to accomplish certain things

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Darren Criss 19:08:35

so most of my academic musical knowledge came in my 20s when I tried to start doing it professionally

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Darren Criss 19:08:52

Nick

first instrument you ever learnt?

violin

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Darren Criss 19:09:07

andyruiz080

I'm castin' my love net wide And fillin' every hole in my schedule

ha love that line

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Darren Criss 19:09:29

missweggy

Darren are you a big queen fan ( the band lol ) 😂

is the pope catholic

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Darren Criss 19:12:00

ChloeOmelia

Now its available, would you change anything?

jesus so much. but such is the nature of creating stuff. there's a great Hayao Miyazaki quote about always having to make new stuff to escape the woe of all the mistakes you made in your last thing... I mean, that's a bit extreme, I feel like we did the best we could given the circumstance but I totally get where Miyazaki is coming from. And in many ways that's everything we do in life. Do your best, know what you coulda done better and carry on

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Darren Criss 19:12:36

dj._.quackers

who or what was your biggest inspiration growing up

the beatles. the uk. the 60s.

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Darren Criss 19:13:02

Astriddd

Your first original song was "Not Alone". I'm right?

no it was actually a song i wrote in the third grade when I got a guitar for Christmas called "Save The Whales"

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Darren Criss 19:14:29

hiiqsbo9358wvfkcjcsgsu4lb

Darren I need an answer it’s been annoying me for days. So was everyone fucking everyone in Pierces old band or was she just fucking everyone seperately??

ha that's a really great question. I figured she was just fucking everyone individually, which is why the band was so contentious but then again I'd rather let your imagination run wild...

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Darren Criss 19:15:29

jphxxk5wjnaqnhuv806wmohdt

Darren, I love your taste in music. You should share your personal playlists ... bc everybody needs to know phantom planet 😉

if i actually shared my tastes in music, or actually shared the amount of stuff in my brain at the rate that I want to share, I would never work on or create anything because i would constantly be on the internet and you'd all be over me if you weren't already

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Darren Criss 19:16:01

But yes, thank you for saying that, I love me my phantom planet oh so very much :)

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Darren Criss 19:16:18

juli.nuttini

could you please answer me I don't speak English and I'm putting ALL my effort into asking you questions I'm going to cry

wow your english is actually pretty great

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Darren Criss 19:17:08

I'd like to write a song with Howard Ashman

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Darren Criss 19:17:23

dancebaby218

Was kick your shoes off inspired by your Hedwig shoes?

nah cuz that shit was actually comfy

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Darren Criss 19:17:55

12169199549

i skipped my clarinet class because of you for the third time :) what can i say to my teacher?

that Darren says you should have gone to clarinet class!!!

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Darren Criss 19:18:34

qalektvmexab6gfwibfihwu6b

Could you please answer me. We’ve supported you for years from the uk and we’re staying up for this but it’s totally worth it because you’re amazing!! Molly x

I wish so bad I could go to the UK!

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Darren Criss 19:20:01

FUCK someone asked about Sam Farrar and I wanted to answer it but it disappeared... Sam is a homie. one of my very first songwriting sessions was with him and a very famous member of the pop universe... who if I get a season two, I'm putting in the show.

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Darren Criss 19:22:00

9nc1yow3iwnp9p3fs4gcvdnsf

what other instruments would you like to learn in the future?

i just need to spend time trying to get better at the ones I've plateaued with. I feel like I got as good as I'd ever get on the guitar when i was like 19. So I've been trying to get better during the Quarantine. Picked up my violin and dusted off that Vivaldi, started doing drum rudiments on my drum pad, and started learning new licks and scales for guitar. Stuff I never got round to doing.

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Darren Criss 19:22:27

harefraz

mr. criss sir, what is your top quarantine activity?

playing music

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Darren Criss 19:23:26

actually lies. top quarantine activity is learning Japanese. 30 minutes a day. And it's been several months. Almost got Hiragana down, still got a few characters I'm questionable with but with any luck I'll start up on Katakana in the next few weeks.

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Darren Criss 19:23:40

224abi6avvottcsacto7vx46a

What about working with Mark hamill ? Insane right

you said it

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Darren Criss 19:23:54

t7sxis7855cd329gaa6iyty8v

Any updates on American Buffalo? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

it's opening next year!

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Darren Criss 19:24:09

for the record this is really fun I'm enjoying this guys

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Darren Criss 19:26:26

Rachael

How different is it doing a show like Royalties where you're heavily involved in the creative process compared to other projects you've done in the past?

i'd say night and day but that's an understatement. When I did Glee all I had to do was act in scenes, record songs, and go to dance rehearsal. With Royalties, it's that AND casting, doing pre production, post production, notes, meetings, notes, writing and producing songs, location scouting, blah blah blah lots of the stuff that you don't have to worry about if you're not a creator. But make no mistake I absolutely love it.

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Darren Criss 19:27:41

Aisha

learn spanish

I'll get there. I already speak a bit of Italian so I wanted the challenge of learning something that didn't use a writing system I already understood.

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Darren Criss 19:28:23

rosieellenxx_

I take Music Technology as a subject at school and we have to make a whole song with the sole sample of glass breaking...

sounds fun. loads of things you can do with that.

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Darren Criss 19:28:48

21ynx6niidf2amx5nzilihsga

What are your goals for once quarantine is lifted?

hopefully to feel like I used this very strange time well.

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Darren Criss 19:29:14

Ok I should probabl get outta here right?

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Darren Criss 19:29:41

I've talked a lot about mighty as kong in other places

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Darren Criss 19:30:00

so I'll just leave you with a story about "Let Your Hair Down"

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Darren Criss 19:30:14

which was the very FIRST song we wrote for the show

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Darren Criss 19:30:37

I had a meeting with an artist at a dive bar in the middle of the afternoon

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Darren Criss 19:31:10

let's just say I showed up to that very first writer's session very late

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Darren Criss 19:31:17

and sober ENOUGH

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Darren Criss 19:31:41

wktusw4mcjn910r3eq91zg4k5

darren did you watch hamilton??????

duh last night. so fun.

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Darren Criss 19:32:17

anyway I was so relieved that we left with that song at the end of the day. The intent was always to write two songs with the exact same concepts just with different titles

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Darren Criss 19:32:50

the chords are the same, just slightly different voicings played on slightly different instruments

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Darren Criss 19:33:29

and the idea was that whichever song was funnier, or at least whichever song would be more fun to see in a music video... would be the one that Pierce & Sara write

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Darren Criss 19:34:08

"Kick Your Shoes Off" ended up feeling more like a full music video than "Let Your Hair Down" but I LOVE that first song, and hopefully people get to hear the whole thing on Spotify since you don't get to hear the whole song in the episode

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Darren Criss 19:34:51

with lines I love like "see my cheekbones, show off my clavicle, I bet you've never seen a ponytail to magical..."

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Darren Criss 19:35:39

emilybutcher30

i love that u spelled it sara not sarah

thank you. if you don't already know it, check out Ben Folds' "Zak and Sara"

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Darren Criss 19:36:01

OK i gotta get going

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Darren Criss 19:36:12

but thanks to everyone from all over the world for joining

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Darren Criss 19:36:17

i see you and i say hi to you!

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Darren Criss 19:36:23

happy birthday to all the bday kids!

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Darren Criss 19:36:33

thank you for spending a little bit of your bday with me

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Darren Criss 19:36:39

thanks for checking out Royalties

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Darren Criss 19:36:46

hope you enjoy the music

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Darren Criss 19:36:53

and hope there gets to be a season 2!!!

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Darren Criss 19:37:08

xo to all of you. stay safe, stay inspired. - Darren

#darren criss #royalties ost listening event #spotify #royalties #july 2020 #posting as text since it's soooo much easier than posting screencaps #royalties bts

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