Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was still early morning when Sungjin finished loading his luggage into the back of his truck. Whatever fit in the storage he locked up. He set his guitar in last, running a mental checklist. Lease was broken, furniture sold or donated, at least some money for the first day or so. He’d said goodbye to whoever would still talk to him.

Nothing left for him here, he guessed.

“Hyung--…”

Sungjin looked over. A tall, young man was a few meters away, too nervous to come closer. He climbed out of the bed of the bright red truck to meet him. “Dowoon-ssi. It’s been a while. What are you doing here?”

He avoided eye contact. “Let’s go together.”

Sungjin laughed mirthlessly. “Did you apologize to your parents like I told you to? At the show?”

Dowoon nodded. “I heard your band’s set that night. You would have won if you hadn’t said anything to the managers.”

“I couldn’t let them do that to you.”

“I heard from your old band. They said you haven’t been able to work since then. It’s been months.”

“Yeah, well…” he sighed. He didn’t have a response for that one.

“Thank you for what you did, Hyung.”

“Don’t thank me. I might have ruined your career.”

Dowoon shook his head this time. “Where are you going now?”

He shrugged. “Well, can’t get any work here anymore, so… next big city. Seoul, I guess. I wouldn’t call this a scandal, but… even the noise of Seoul would drown this incident out.”

“Let’s go together. I want to play drums. I can’t do that here anymore, either.”

“You’re young, you have talent, so you have options. With me out of the picture, you’ll be able to play wherever you want.”

“I’d have more options in Seoul. And shouldn’t you take responsibility for breaking my contract?” Dowoon cracked a smile.

Sungjin looked at him. The audacity of this kid… “You act like it’s gonna be easy. I was gonna stop everywhere I could to earn money, you think I can do that with you?” He asked incredulously.

Dowoon shrugged like it was a minor inconvenience. “I’ll play wherever you do. Most venues will have a drum set I can use until I can buy one.”

“You understand it’s the difference between living in an apartment or on the street, don’t you?”

“Sure,” he said.

Sungjin groaned, leaning against his truck. He wasn’t getting rid of this kid, was he?

“You don’t want to go home?”

Dowoon shook his head.

He watched him from the corner of his eyes.

Why not bring him? What’s the harm?

“Alright fine. Get in. Let’s go.”

“Sorry, kid, this is as far as I can take you,” the man said.

“I appreciate it,” he said, second language falling awkwardly off his tongue. “You said a town would be up the road that way?”

“I don’t know how far. Good luck. Take care.”

“Thank you, you too.” He slipped out of the seat of the mans truck, grabbing his guitar case out of the backseat. The man took down a side road, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake.

Jae coughed, waving the dust out of his face. “Middle of nowhere. Thanks a ton, man,” he said out loud in his native tongue. He adjusted his guitar and started walking, hoping somebody would come by and pick him up soon.

“Dowoon-ssi, are you asleep?” Sungjin called into the back.

There was no answer. He knew that wasn’t necessarily a yes with Dowoon, but assumed it was anyway. He’d had food for lunch so they could make it without stopping anywhere until they got to the next big town so they could try to make some money there. He’d had a whole plot mapped out, but it was a little give or take so he could adjust when money allowed for it. It had to be especially flexible now that he had another person with him.

A figure in the distance called his active attention to his driving.

What’s someone doing all the way out here?

He stuck his thumb out.

“Ah, hitch hiking?” Sungjin mused. He slowed and stopped.

The blonde looked surprised and excited, rushing to the window.

“Where you headed?” Sungjin asked.

“Wherever, if you’ll take me,” he said. “And you?”

“Next big town. Is that a guitar on your back?”

Jae adjusted the case on his back. “Yeah, it is. I see yours too,” he said, gesturing again with his thumb. “You play?”

“Yeah. I’m Sungjin. Hop in, I’ll give you a ride.”

“Really? Thank you!” He shouted. He tossed his guitar in the back and jumped over the side of the truck bed, stopping just short of landing on top of the body lying in the back.

Dowoon looked up at him from underneath his hat.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled in surprise, switching to English on instinct. He settled on the side of the bed instead of in it, leaning on the front of the truck as Sungjin started driving.

“Oh, that’s Dowoon,” Sungjin shouted from the front. “Plays drums.”

He waved half in greeting, half in apology for throwing his guitar on him.

Dowoon covered his face again and seemed to go to sleep. Jae leaned against the front of the truck. It felt good to get off his feet, to be with people.

“Were you speaking English just now?” Sungjin asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah. I just got back from the states. Names Jaehyung, by the way. Go by Jae.”

“Nice to meet you. You mind if I ask what you’re doing hitch hiking on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere?”

“Well I was supposed to go to Seoul with this band,” he began. “Last gig we played they stole my share and ditched me at the venue. It was some… Podunk… how do you say podunk in Korean? Trashy dive in the middle of nowhere.”

Sungjin chuckled at the injection of English.

“So I couldn’t get anywhere from there. No service, no taxis, nothing. Not like I had any money, anyway… Started hitch hiking. A nice old man brought me this far and said a town wasn’t far so figured I’d walk unless I could find someone to pick me up.”

Sungjin watched Jae in the rearview mirror as he talked. He was honest and expressive, if not a little awkward. His shirt was unbuttoned at the cuffs, a little disheveled. He didn’t look like he’d had an easy time since his last band had abandoned him wherever they did. (He knew the feeling.)  There were other places he could drop Jae off before they got to his planned stop at sundown, but he knew there wasn’t anything there. Service, but no real prospects for a musician and shitty hotels that people only stayed in for a few hours during the day. Jae seemed like a good enough guy. He could at least take him to the town they were stopping in. He’d have some options there, at least.

“You any good on this thing, Sungjin?”

He scoffed. “’Any good’? I made a living off it back home.”

“Yeah? You sing, too?”

“I do.”

“Very nice,” he exclaimed in English before switching back to Korean. “Me too. I did alright in America, but I had to come back to Korea. Now I have to build up a reputation, get my name out there again.”

Dowoon sat up, leaning into the truck. “Hyung, I’m hungry.”

Sungjin tossed the combination lock key back to him. “There’s a cooler in one of the things back there. Pass me up something, too. Jaehyung-ssi, want some?”

“Ooh, yes please. Thank you,” he said, helping Dowoon pry open the cases and rummaging through the food.

They tossed a sandwich up to Sungjin and he ate it with one hand as he drove. Dowoon and Jae talked loudly in the back about music, mostly, among other things, as he drove and the sun sank in the sky. It was late evening by the time they got to town. They decided to stop at a ramen place and eat. Sungjin pulled into the parking lot and they grabbed what wasn’t locked in storage and took it in with them.

The lighting was warm inside, with a nicely dressed staff and nicely polished tables. A pretty girl took them to a table, made conversation before taking their order. Sungjin mentally grimaced at the prices, but Dowoon and Jae didn’t seem to care. Might have to stay here longer than he planned, he thought.

Sungjin pulled out his phone to try to find a cheap hotel. “Jaehyung-ssi,” he began.

“Yeah.”

“What are your plans now? We passed through a few places on the way here, but I thought this would be a good spot for us to part ways,” he was saying. “It’s a good place for musicians. Good enough, anyway, to earn some money until you get your bearings.”

When Jae didn’t answer, Sungjin looked up from his phone.

“You didn’t want to go to Seoul together?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

Sungjin saw Dowoon inhale nervously at his reaction from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, hear me out…” He started in English, and switched to Korean, thinking of his words carefully. “Listen. You and I sing and play guitar, right? And Dowoon on drums. Let’s jam together, just once. If it’s not a good match we can part.”

“Jaehyung-ssi…”

“Come on. At least for tonight we can bunk together and jam. We can split the cost of the hotel room. It’s not like, a big… metropolitan city or anything, but it’s gotta be expensive here, right? I have some money.”

“What’s metropolitan?”

Jae waved the question away. “What do you say?”

“Hyung, why not? You were worried about money, right?” Dowoon said at his side.

The food came, the pretty waitress setting the food down in front of all of them. It was big, delicious and expensive looking portions of ramen in nice bowls. He looked back down at his phone, the hotel room prices blaring up at him in big, red numbers.

He sighed. “Okay, let’s try it.”

Jae smiled. “It’s gonna be great.”

Chapter Text

His father handed him another stack of papers. “Read that by the lunch tomorrow,” he demanded.

“Yes,” he agreed passively, feeling the weight of it as it fell into his hands. “Who are we meeting with again?”

“The governor, the mayor and his daughter Soyeon.”

He couldn’t hold in a groan.

“Wonpil,” his father scolded severely.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. He was afraid to raise his eyes and so he kept them down as he flipped through the political packet his father had given him. “Why will she be there?”

“To see you, of course.”

He mentally cringed. “Do you really need me to go? It’s just a formality, and I think I’m getting a handle on how--…”

“No, there’s still a lot you need to learn, Wonpil.” His father laced his fingers together, and Wonpil knew to prepare himself for a lecture. “You’re our only son. If you’re going to take over the business, you need to learn to get along with these people. City infrastructure and politics is an important part of what we do.”

“Father…” he began.

“I have high hopes for you, Wonpil,” his father continued for him. “One day it’ll be you I’ll be making appointments to have lunch with.”

Wonpil wished so much for that to not be true.

His father stood up and left his desk, patting him on the shoulder as he left the office.

Wonpil crumpled the packet of papers in his hands and let out an audible sigh, sitting back in his chair.

In a wealthy retiree city, Jae somehow booked them at the shabbiest place. It was vintage in a trendy way, the sort of place young people gathered because it was local, because it had history in the community. Sungjin’s eyes wandered over the bare wood aesthetics, dented and scratched. The stage was nice, just a step up from the rest of the floor but wide and took up most of the space. He hopped up on it.

It was midday and they were at The Music Bar for an audition and sound test.

“Dowoon-ssi, everything good?”

He started a beat. “Yeah, it’s not bad,” he shouted over the sound of the drumming.

Sungjin gestured to Jae, who plugged in his guitar and started playing a rhythm to get a feel. He nodded back at Sungjin. He pretended to fiddle with the cords as he wandered over to Jae.

“How did you find this place?”

Jae shrugged. “Luck. It’s not bad, right?”

“Not bad at all,” he agreed. The acoustics were great. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him you’d talk to him after the audition.”

Sungjin nodded, hoping that meant they’d have a place to play for the next couple days. But it was impossible to know in this industry, he knew that, and tried to keep his hopes from getting too high as he wandered back to center. “Thanks for letting us audition on such short notice,” he began. “Let’s start with, uh…” he looked over at Jae. They had barely practiced anything, quietly, in their hotel room the night before. “First Time?”

“Seems fitting,” Jae said with a laugh, nodding his head.

Dowoon started in with drums, quick and clean. Jae and Sungjin harmonized well with perfect timing. It felt natural, playing with these two. More natural that it had, ever, playing with his last band. He gave this audition his all, feeling a high he hadn’t felt in a long time.

For the first time
I go having a different dream
I say goodbye to you
These words will be the last

The owner was impressed afterward, and Sungjin went to talk to him while Jae and Dowoon packed everything into the truck. They worked out a contract, they’d play for a couple nights, getting some of the income from the cover pay and whatever tips people gave them. They all signed and went back to the hotel feeling good.

They were off to a good start.

The lunch was dull (as expected). Shop talk about rezoning and construction deadlines that he couldn’t and didn’t want to participate in. Instead he let his eyes wander around the restaurant, trying to avoid the gaze of the pretty girl across the table. It was a cool, retro style building with a place for a band to play at the back.

“Do you like it?” the woman asked with a smile. She was Kim Soyeon, the mayor’s daughter.

Wonpil nodded sheepishly. He wasn’t sure if she was being polite or if she was flirting. “It’s nice,” he said. “Kind of vintage. Almost Western style.”

She nodded, stirring her cocktail. “My father says it’s in the reconstruction district,” she explained softly, tentatively, “the owner can’t afford to keep it. So it’ll be gone soon.”

“Ah,” he sighed bitterly. Of course. His father took away anything that had any soul in it.

“I came here all the time when I was younger,” she said. “Different bands came all the time. It was exciting when I was younger, you know? I always got to see what was new on the music scene.”

“It’s a shame,” Wonpil agreed, his eyes beginning to wander again.

His father caught his attention and introduced him to the governor before he could mentally stray too far from the table.

“My son,” he said, patting Wonpil on the back in a mix of a threat not to embarrass him and a façade of affection. Wonpil took the cue and bowed to the governor, introducing himself quietly and shaking his hand. “I’m training him to take my spot at the head of the business someday. I hope you two get along well.”

“He looks like a sweet boy,” the governor said. “Are you sure he’s cut out for the business world?”

Jae suggested they go out to eat to celebrate their successful audition. Dowoon and Sungjin readily agreed, excited about their new prospects and eager to get out of the hotel room. Dowoon was warming up to Jae quickly, and Sungjin was glad to see it, but he was wary of how natural it felt to be with Jae.

“Did you hitchhike in America?” Dowoon was asking as they walked to the restaurant.

“God no,” Jae answered. “Are you crazy? It’s dangerous.”

“It’s dangerous here, too,” Sungjin said.

Jae shook his head, raising his hands in protest. “It’s bad in America. You don’t understand.”

Sungjin laughed. “You said you had to come back here. Mind if I ask why?”

He shrugged. “No. It was nothing special. I came back with my family. My grandfather wasn’t doing too well. He’s better now, so I thought it was okay if I left with my band.”

“And they abandoned you?”

“Yeah,” he drawled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We may have gotten into an argument about the money. I needed transportation, but they wanted more money for gas. I wrote music and found gigs for us. They barely showed up for practice and were late for shows.”

Sungjin nodded as he listened. He’d shuffled through his fair share of bad band members, too.

“So we played the show but they got all the money from the manager and took off without me.” He shrugged again.

“Their loss,” Dowoon said.

Sungjin laughed at the interjection. They arrived at the restaurant, and Sungjin held the door for the other two before walking in.

“I’m glad we decided to play together,” he said to Jae as they sat down. “You’re a good guitarist and you have a good voice.”

“I can rap, too,” he boasted with a smile.

“Oho.”

“You should rap at the show tomorrow night!” Dowoon shouted. “Do the songs you wrote have raps?”

“Of course.”

They talked about their set over dinner, Sungjin’s nerves melting away as they ate. He wondered if he was overthinking everything, and tried to put his worries in the back of his mind and focus on their show at The Music Bar the next night.

Wonpil spent the next few days trying to avoid Soyeon. It was by coincidence when they met at the bar again. She was sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and watching the band. Wonpil made his way over to her.

“They’re pretty good, huh?” she said instead of a greeting. “My friend told me about them. They’re in town for a couple days, apparently. On their way to Seoul.”

His eyes fell to the stage. A three-man band was performing. Two guitarists and a drummer.

I wish I were happier
Every single day my wish is the same
Nobody can
No one can shake me

I wish I were happier
I say the same thing every day
Nobody can
No one can treasure me more

The guitarists were good singers, too, and brought their own flare to whatever song they played. He nodded in agreement without taking his eyes off them.

“I’m gonna miss this place when it’s gone,” she said. Quietly, underneath the beat from the drums. It was more to herself than anything, and Wonpil felt like he was intruding just by hearing it.

“Is there anything we can do?”

She spun around in her seat to look at him.

“What?”

“For this place. Isn’t there some way we can help the owner, keep my father from demolishing the building?”

She set her drink down like she was afraid she was imagining this whole thing. “Wonpil-ssi…”

He waited for her to continue.

“Are you being serious right now? I don’t know how many drinks I’ve had and I mean I was hoping but already…”

“I’m serious.”

She laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Can I be honest? I wanted to meet you because I thought you looked like a good person. I thought if you and I worked together, we could do something…”

Wonpil chuckled, awkwardly leaning against the bar and easing himself into the seat next to hers.

“I’ve tried to convince my father to stop this reconstruction project, but he won’t give in. He’s cut off most of my income… but I’m arranging protests. It’s wrong to bring it all down. It’s cultural here. And the people in this part of town don’t have enough money to buy the buildings, but the government isn’t giving them enough to live on,” she explained. Wonpil nodded as he listened to her and her plan. What they needed was money.

And he had that.

Chapter Text

It was their last day in town. Jae and Dowoon were off having fun, sightseeing or something. Sungjin had made sure they had accommodations for the next few days, possible auditions set up, and was shopping around for anything they might need.

More food, certainly. He bought another cooler to accommodate the extra bodies, extra food and water. He wasn’t even expecting Dowoon to come with him at the beginning, but now they had Jae with them too. He wasn’t complaining—it was nice to have some semblance of a band again—but he wondered how long this makeshift arrangement would last.

He bought everything, packing it into the cooler as he did so it would stay cold as he walked back to the hotel. He stopped outside the store, pausing to look at the windows.

Fliers and posters were lining the glass, calling for the people of the town to stand up to their local government and save what little culture was left, save the historic corner of this town.

Sungjin’s eyes scanned the fliers.

The Music Bar was, as he suspected, in this reconstruction district.

He shifted the ice box from one hand to the other. He wanted to get out of this town before they got stuck in whatever sort of protests were starting here.

“Excuse me.”

He turned to his side. A pretty woman was looking at him with a sly smile.

“Are you interested? I’m the one coordinating the protests. My name is Kim Soyeon. I’ve been posting these all day.” She handed him a flier.

“Oh, hello.” Sungjin shifted the ice box gain to shake her hand and take the flier. “No, I’m… from out of town, actually.” He scratched the back of his head. “I play guitar and I’ve been playing at the Music Bar. I was just curious.”

She stared at him for a second before gasping. “Oh, really? You’re that new band? Oh, wow. I really enjoyed your shows! Wonpil-ssi will be so jealous when I tell him tonight,” she said with a laugh.

Sungjin laughed, more out of nervousness than anything. “Yeah, thank you. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed them. It’s our last show tonight, but it’s been great here. It’s too bad about the building…”

She nodded. “Yeah… I love that place. That’s why we’re trying to save it from the government.”

He didn’t want to get wrapped up in this, but he listened to her anyway. It was important to her, clearly, and he wouldn’t be around to see any repercussions whether she had any impact or not.

She stopped midsentence as she was explaining how much construction the city was doing, how they were getting rid of historical buildings. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “this is boring, isn’t it? You probably have things to do.”

Sungjin shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Soyeon smiled coyly. “Yeah, right. Well, I’m coming to the show tonight, too! What’s the bands name? I want to keep an eye out. Do you guys have SNS or anything?”

“We’re not really… a band,” he explained delicately. “We met by chance. It’s easier to get gigs as a band than solo, so we decided to play together.”

She hummed. “You have good chemistry, though. I’ve seen a lot of bands, and not everyone can do that.”

Sungjin laughed. “Well… thanks. I’m sure you have work to do, so…”

“Yeah,” she said, lifting the pile of fliers in her arms up halfheartedly. “I’ll see you tonight, though. I’m looking forward to it.”

She was trying to change the world, Sungjin thought, as he walked back to the hotel. What was he supposed to do with this flier?

Soyeon said it was the bands last day and invited him to go see them again before they left, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to. He’d been helping her spread information about the protests over the last couple days. His father was happy they were spending time together, but he didn’t know why. Now his father was keeping him busy since he got home from posting fliers with her.

Wonpil was about to leave for the business office when his father called, asking him to bring copies of the permits he had at home. “Yes, I know where they are,” he was saying. He opened the door to his father’s at-home office. “No, I won’t bring the originals. I’ll make copies before I leave, don’t worry. … Don’t worry, Dad. Yes, I know. … I’ll be there soon. Bye.”

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and closed the door behind him as he stepped into the office. It was neat and organized, as always, not a thing out of place. The air was still and warm from the sunlight. Wonpil made a beeline to the filing cabinets and started flipping through the files with practiced fingers. Finding and sorting files for his father was something he’d done often since he was young.

He pulled the papers and started running them through the copier. He sat down at his father’s desk as he waited, spinning the chair in half circles and letting his eyes wander.

It wasn’t often he sat on this side of the desk. He drummed his fingers on the desk.

The phone rang, and he answered it, expecting his father. “Yes, hello,” he said into the phone.

“Kim-seonsaengnim?” The voice came quiet and surprised.

“Seonsaen…? Oh, excuse me. No, this is Kim Wonpil, his son.” He sat up instinctively straighter. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, Wonpil-ssi. This is the mayor, Soyeon’s father. I was trying to reach your father. I had some questions about the relocation permits…”

“Ah, yes. He’d mentioned a meeting with the contractors before,” Wonpil said with a quiet laugh he hoped didn’t come across as nervous. “I was just on my way to take them to him at the office now. Let’s see…” Wonpil got up out of the chair and looked through the papers. He held the phone between his chin and shoulder as he shuffled through them. He could hear the mayor breathing on the other side of the phone. “He asked me to bring the construction permits, electrical, plumbing… and the official transfer of ownerships of the buildings and properties…”

“Ah-yes—that’s fine… What ownerships do we have now?”

“We?” Wonpil repeated.

“Ah—the construction company, Wonpil-ssi.”

He cocked his head, flipping through the papers. “Nothing’s changed since our last meeting, sir. With the protests, The Music Bar, a few of the restaurants, and much of the residential is even more reluctant to give up their property than before…”

The mayor breathed an audible sigh. “I cut off Soyeon’s income. Are so many people sympathetic to this cause?”

Wonpil spoke hesitantly. “It is a nice area, sir…”

“It would be worth much more after construction. If they would let us pay them for the property, they’d be much better off.”

“Sir?”

“Thank you, Wonpil-ssi. Will you be at today’s meeting?”

“No, my father wanted me to handle the office.”

“I see. Thank you for looking after Soyeon. Hopefully once she has a boyfriend she’ll stop all this protest nonsense,” he said.

Guilt lurched in his stomach. “Have a good day, sir. Take care.” He waited for the mayor to hang up as he shuffled the papers, organizing them in a pile on the desk, before moving to set the phone down on the receiver.

He stopped at the sound of a jingle.

When he moved again, he heard it again.

He stayed still, listening for the movement, the quiet, twinkling noise of metal hitting something, rattling.

He shook the phone—there it was again.

It was coming from the phone.

Wonpil pulled the backing of the phone off, and a small metal key fell out of it.

His mind moved faster than he could consciously register and before he realized it, his fingers were scrambling to pick up the key, to open the locked drawer in his father’s desk. He ripped the drawer open—it slid open soundlessly, without resistance.

Permissions to seize properties.

“Ah,” Wonpil scoffed, his heart sinking into his stomach, making him feel sick.

He flipped through the papers, past seizures and requests for upcoming properties.

“It was dirty, this whole time. If they didn’t want to give it up, we just take it? Have the government take it for us? Do we bribe them, too? That’s why it’s so important that we’re on good terms?” he muttered bitterly.

He made copies of the files before sliding them carefully back into the desk, locking it again, and placing the key back in its hiding spot. He dropped his own copies off in his room before leaving the house and heading to the office.

On his way, he called the bank and transferred almost everything he had to the protest the mayor’s daughter was leading.

Sungjin stepped into the owner’s office. It was modest, but cozy. Filled with files and papers and posters, cds, and other memorabilia from the bands that had played there in the past.

“Hyungnim,” Sungjin greeted with a smiled, bowing timidly as he entered.

“Ah, hello,” he greeted, standing to meet him. “Come in, sit down.”

Sungjin did as he was told.

“Your bandmates aren’t with you?”

Sungjin pointed behind him through the door, figuratively towards the restaurant. “They’re eating now. I just wanted to talk before the show tonight.”

The man nodded, gesturing for him to talk then, if that’s what he was here for.

“Ah, well… I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality, for letting us play on such short notice and for the past couple days.”

“You’ve brought in quite a bit of foot traffic,” he said with a laugh.

Sungjin laughed modestly, good naturedly. “And I… well, as you know, tonight is our last show.” The man nodded. “I hope this isn’t presumptuous of me, but I heard… you’re in danger of losing the building?”

The man looked at him over his glasses. He hummed. “Where did you hear that from?”

He shrugged. “Around.”

The owner leaned forward on his desk and sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s seems unavoidable now, but that’s the situation I’m in.”

“As a thank you, we wanted to break contract and give the proceeds of our last night here all to you,” Sungjin said.

The man waved his hand. Sungjin wasn’t sure if it was a hopeless wave or a polite one. “There’s no need for that. Young people need the money.”

“Hyungnim, you’ve treated us so well during our stay here. Not many places would offer the same treatment to musicians that you have, so please… I mean if you could keep this place open, that would be great, and I would love to play here again. But I’m sure that you’ve been good for the music community here and I sincerely hope that you can take care of yourself and live well.”

He laughed. “You speak well.”

Chapter Text

Wonpil marched into his father’s office, shutting the door closed behind him. He dropped the files on his father’s desk as he turned around in his desk.

The look his father gave him was unimpressed, trying to intimidate him.

It didn’t work.

“Do you have something you want to say to me?” His father asked. “If not, I have to prepare for the meeting.”

“You have the mayor and the governor seize the land?” Wonpil asked. He felt rage building in his shoulders and arms, clenching his fists to stop from shaking.

“We do what has to be done.”

“It’s these people’s livelihoods and you’re just taking it away to—to build vacation homes and overpriced hotels! If you pay them at all, it isn’t enough for them to move back into the area after you fixed it up.”

“What I’m doing isn’t illegal, Wonpil.”

“You can’t just do whatever you want!” He bit his lip. “How are the mayor and governor agreeing to this? Are you blackmailing them?”

His father stood up, matching Wonpil’s eyes. “How dare you accuse me of something like that. My own son?”

Wonpil didn’t waver.

“I make them money. I—We—bring people into the city. This town was nothing. Now look at it. It’s beautiful, Wonpil.”

“It’s dirty,” he said. “I understand why Soyeon-ssi is protesting against her own father.”

Something clicked in his father’s mind. “That’s why you’ve been spending so much time with her?” he asked incredulously. “You were helping protesters? Wait--…” he inhaled deeply to calm himself down, “—were you funding them? With money I gave you? You little…”

“It isn’t right, Dad,” he said, softly. The adrenaline of anger was fading quickly.

“Get out of my office.”

Wonpil took a few steps back (until he was out of arms reach) before he turned around to leave.

“Don’t you dare tell Soyeon about any of this!” he shouted after him.

Jae and Dowoon burst into the hotel room loudly, laughing and shouting playfully at each other. Sungjin looked up from his spot on the bed, craning his neck from the tv to watch them cross the room from the door to the opposite side of the room.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“We bought you something,” Jae announced, tossing a bag into Sungjin’s open arms.

He lifted out a Hawaiian print shirt—blue with florals and pineapples.

“Um?”

Jae laughed. “I dunno,” he admitted. “Thought it suited you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. It looks like a dad shirt, and you look kinda--…”

“Hyung?” Dowoon chimed in.

Jae and Sungjin’s heads turned to look at him.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding up Soyeon’s flier.

Jae looked between the two of them, feeling tension growing between the two of them the longer Sungjin hesitated to answer. He felt out of place between the two of them and took a step back, feeling like he was intruding on a private conversation.

“It’s nothing, Dowoon-ssi,” he said finally, grabbing it out of his hands.

Dowoon watched Sungjin carefully as he smoothed the flier out in his hands before tossing it on the bed. “Hyung, it’s our last night, right? You aren’t gonna get involved in something like this, right?”

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I’m not planning on doing anything stupid, okay?” He laughed a bit, to ease the tension.

Dowoon didn’t look convinced. He looked worried.

“Dowoon-ssi,” he said, “I won’t get involved.”

He sighed. Jae assumed he was placated for now, but he just sat on the bed and started watching tv. Sungjin looked sorry, but busied himself on his phone instead of saying anything else.

Jae grabbed his guitar and sat down next to Dowoon, practicing quietly beneath the sound of the tv.

Wonpil went to The Music Bar early. He got food and a drink and sat by himself at a table as he waited for Soyeon to come and the show to start.

He debated whether he should tell her about his father or not.

He wondered if she already knew.

Soyeon showed up sooner than he expected. “Wonpil-ssi, you’re here already?”

He laughed, rising to meet her. “Ah, well, I had some time,” he mumbled as they both sat down again.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” he answered automatically. He shook his head. “Well, Soyeon-ssi… I need to tell you something, actually.”

The lights dimmed then and the band came on stage.

“Hello, thanks for coming out,” one of the guitarists said, waving.

Soyeon reached across the table to grab Wonpil’s arm. “Wonpil-ssi! I met him today! In person!”

“What?”

“His name’s Park Sungjin.”

“Really?” He looked back at the stage.

“Cool, right? I’m gonna get a drink. Want anything?”

He declined, and she made her way to the bar, leaving him at the table by himself to watch as the show started.

Park Sungjin.

Wonpil watched him on stage. He sure seemed in control of what he was doing, at least. He felt a pang of jealousy.

Jae caught Dowoon alone when Sungjin was with the manager. “Hey man, are you two okay?” he asked tentatively.

Dowoon spun the drumsticks in his fingers. He glanced up at Jae guiltily before looking back down. “Fine,” he said.

“You’re a bad liar.”

He laughed lightly, enough to take the edge off. “Sungjin hyung sometimes gets into bad situations,” he explained clumsily. “He’s a good guy, but it gets him into trouble.”

Jae nodded, silently slapping the strings on his guitar. “You’re worried he’s gonna get into the politics of all of this.”

Dowoon nodded.

“Even if we get caught up here for a little longer, we’ll be okay,” Jae said. “We make a good team. If only we had a bassist, we’d be set.”

They laughed again, and Sungjin came back. They went over the set and went up on the stage, greeting the crowd.

The band knew how to hype an audience. Soyeon had convinced Wonpil to get out of his chair and she was trying to get him to dance, laughing all the time at his attempts. The song started out mysteriously, but picked up, getting more upbeat through the chorus.

When I’m with you even if I’m careful
With every single word I say
If even one word is off
Your voice rises

Words and breath go rough
Your face gets redder
Why don’t I hate it? I don’t know
I don’t know baby

Oh you gotta see blood—

A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

It was his father.

“We need to go,” he shouted over the music.

“Dad?”

Soyeon froze, not sure whether to try to defend Wonpil or to respect her father’s friend.

“Soyeon-ssi,” Wonpil’s father said, nodding his head at her, “I suggest you return home as well.”

“We were just listening to the band, sir,” she stammered.

Wonpil was becoming more and more conscious of the crowd around them slowing, noticing what was happening. He felt his face burning with embarrassment. “Dad, please…”

“You gave her all my money?”

“You looked at my bank account?”

His dad grabbed his arm roughly.

“Don’t talk back to me.”

“It was my money--…”

He rose his hand.

He could see the crowd losing interest. The benefit of having a low stage, low lights.

Sungjin and Jae exchanged nervous glances.

Should they keep playing?

These people were shouting at each other.

Soyeon was there, looking worried. Sungjin watched them as he sang.

If there’s at least one sentence off
Your nagging starts

Oh you gotta see blood girl

They were losing the crowd.

The guy was gonna hit Soyeon’s date.

Shit.

Sungjin looked back at Dowoon.

His drumming didn’t falter. “Hyung--!”

Sungjin stopped playing, swinging his guitar onto his back and running through the crowd. They parted for him, and he grabbed ahold of Wonpil’s father’s arm to keep Wonpil from getting hit.

The man, fueled by adrenaline, spun and punched Sungjin instead.

He caught himself with one hand, the other catching his guitar before it hit the floor.

A few people helped him up as Dowoon and Jae pushed their way through the crowd to get to him.

Wonpil looked between Sungjin and his father before gritting his teeth.

“You’d better go,” he said to his father. “Before anybody takes photos. You don’t want this to cause a scandal, do you?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” his father said in a low voice, massaging his knuckles. He left, ignoring the stares the crowd was shooting him.

“Are you okay, Sungjin-ssi?” Soyeon asked.

Sungjin nodded, checking his guitar for damage. He moved his jaw. “I’m good,” he said, nodding again. “Are you okay?” he looked at her, then at Wonpil.

They both nodded.

Sungjin turned around. He tried to laugh. “Should we get back to the show?”

The crowd around them cheered.

They went back to the stage, Sungjin played a riff to make sure his guitar still worked, that there was no invisible damage. He turned around.

“I’m sorry, Dowoon-ssi,” he whispered before they started.

He just sighed and counted them off.

The show continued.

All right, you spent you day being so cautious
But just push aside your work and just follow me
All right, under the starlight, drive with me tonight
Feel the wind passing through your fingers

Wonpil swallowed hard as he watched the band.

I don’t care where we go, it doesn’t matter if it’s not far
I just like this moment of leaving
I don’t care if it’s not for long
there’s no need to rush
Tonight, we’ll be together under that sky

Sungjin had a bruise on his jaw but a smile on his face as he sang:

So be free, don’t worry about tomorrow
don’t have a single care
So be free, just think that it’s just us
Now now everybody dance

He made a decision and left as the band was playing.

Soyeon followed him out. “Are you okay, Wonpil-ssi?”

He thought for a minute before he answered. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “My father is having your father seize the land if they don’t sell or turn it over.”

“What?”

“We argued about it earlier. It’s not illegal. I don’t know if you can stop them from doing whatever they want.”

She huffed. “They play dirty,” she muttered.

He nodded instead of answering.

“The money that was donated earlier… it was yours?”

“I want you to do whatever you can to stop them.”

She cracked a smile, hitting him on the arm. “Wonpil-ssi, you’re a nice boy. You aren’t cut out for business or politics. I’ll handle them.”

He didn’t reciprocate the smile. He couldn’t bear to look at her and kept his eyes down. “Can you do it on your own?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to say here. I don’t think my father would let me, anyway.”

“Where will you go?”

Wonpil shrugged. “I still have a bit of money, if he hasn’t had the bank freeze my account. I can at least stay in a hotel for a few nights. Sort things out. I just need to be by myself.”

Soyeon patted him on the arm. “I understand, Wonpil-ssi,” she said softly. “It must have been shocking to find out, right? This is the sort of business he was grooming you to do.”

“Thank you. I’m glad there’s somebody who can understand. I’ll…” he paused to inhale deeply. “I’ll keep in touch, okay?”

“You’d better!”

They laughed shortly, and when they calmed, it was quiet between them. Wonpil could hear the band’s music through the walls of the old building. They stared at each other until it was uncomfortable, and they laughed again to hide it and Wonpil looked down at his hands.

“Probably better for me not to go back in,” he said. “You can finish listening to them. Last night, right? Tell Park Sungjin-ssi sorry for me if you get a chance.”

She nodded.

They said goodbye and Wonpil headed home.

He was expecting his father to be waiting for him at home, but he wasn’t. Wonpil went to the office, found whatever files he could that could possibly incriminate his father and copied them. Then he went to his room and packed whatever he could fit in a backpack and left.

He was free.

Chapter Text

Dowoon pretended to sleep as Jae and Sungjin packed the truck. He hadn’t spoken to Sungjin since the show the night before.

Sungjin carefully locked things up into storage in the truck as Jae handed it to him.

“Is he always like this?” Jae asked.

“Dowoon-ssi?” he clarified. He shrugged. “He’s just mad at me. We’re leaving, right? He’ll cool off once we put this behind us.”

“How’s the jaw?”

Sungjin chuckled. “It’s fine. I’ll finish loading this and go check out if you’ll bring everything else down for me.”

“Including Dowoon?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “including Dowoon-ssi.”

He went to turn in the keys at the front desk, and by the time he got back to the truck, Jae and Dowoon were sitting in the back of the truck waiting for him.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s get a move on,” Jae said.

He slid into the front and started up the car. He was ready to leave this mess behind him. Hopefully Dowoon would cheer up as they drove.

Wonpil checked his phone. There was a bus stop a bit up the road that could take him far enough away from his hometown that nobody would know him.

He figured the walk would be good for him, but the distance looked shorter on the map.

He’d stayed in a hotel on the edge of town last night, knowing that the quickest way to a place nobody would find him was with a country bus route, and left early that morning. It was getting hotter, the sun was getting brighter, and his luggage was getting heavier.

He needed a break, and sat down, dropping his backpack next to him on the ground. He regretted not packing a bottle of water. He was sorry he didn’t say anything to his mother before he left.

But he didn’t regret leaving.

“Is he okay?” Jae asked, instinctively out-loud.

Dowoon and Sungjin both swung their heads to look.

Sungjin quickly looked back at the road, uninterested in the man on the side of the road.

Dowoon, on the other hand, sat up straight. “Sungjin-hyung!” he said.

Sungjin jumped, instinctively slowing the car as he looked up in the rearview at Dowoon. This was the first time Dowoon had addressed him in almost twelve hours.

“It’s the guy—the one you got punched instead of.”

“What’s he doing out here?” he wondered idly, picking up speed again.

“Stop and ask.”

“What?”

“Stop the car!”

He did, but only to turn around in his seat to look at Dowoon incredulously. “You didn’t want me to get involved in this in the first place and now you’re telling me to stop and ask him—what, if he wants a ride back home?”

Wonpil had noticed the bright red truck by now, but sat by the side of the road watching them instead of moving towards it. Jae pretended not to see him, pretending like he was a serious part of Dowoon and Sungjin’s private argument.

“Hyung, you always do this. You get involved in things and don’t take responsibility for the consequences. When you step in like you did last night, you’re affecting people other than yourself, you know.”

“Was I supposed to let him get hit? During our show?”

“I’m just saying we can at least see if he’s okay.”

He scoffed, but agreed. “Fine,” he said, driving slowly towards the stretch of road Wonpil was sitting at. “But you have to stop pouting.”

“We’ll see,” he said, cracking a smile he didn’t let Sungjin see.

Sungjin stopped the truck in front of Wonpil, waving him up. “Hey, you!”

Wonpil gestured to himself to clarify.

Oh my God, Sungjin thought irritably, nodding and waving at him again. “You were at our show last night, right?”

Wonpil got up and ran to the window, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He was surprised to see the band here, wondering maybe if it was fate. He thought better of it and mentally reprimanded himself for being dramatic.

Dowoon leaned over the side of the truck. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Wonpil answered. He shook his head and added, “well, a little thirsty.”

Dowoon tossed him a cold water bottle.

Wonpil barely caught it. “Thank you,” he said, cracking it open and guzzling it so quickly that some of it spilled down the front of his shirt.

“What are you doing out here?” Sungjin asked.

“There’s a bus stop up this way,” he said, pointing, “I was heading there.”

“Want a lift?” Dowoon offered.

Sungjin shot him a look from the front seat. (Wonpil didn’t see it.)

“Really? That would be great.”

Well, Sungjin guessed this was a thing now. Jae hoisted Wonpil into the back as Sungjin leaned back, grabbing Dowoon’s attention through the window to the bed of the truck. “What are you doing?”

“Following your example,” Dowoon said coyly.

Sungjin felt better as he drove, but Dowoon convinced Wonpil to at least come with them to the next town. He was definitely livening up, which was relieving to see, despite how annoying he was being.

“My father is a popular engineer in this area,” Wonpil was explaining. “He was grooming me to take over his business, mentoring me during the times I was off from school.”

“You didn’t want to do it?” Dowoon asked.

Wonpil shook his head.

Dowoon patted him on the leg sympathetically. He could relate.

“I never thanked you for stepping in at the Music Bar. I’m sorry he hit you, Hyung.”

Sungjin waved behind him. “It’s fine.”

“It ruined your whole show.”

“Ruined?” Jae echoed. “Did you see the crowd afterwards though? Nothing like a… a mosh to start a show.”

“What’s mosh?”

“The point is they loved Sungjin for getting punched in the face,” he said with a laugh.

Dowoon stifled a laugh. (He was sitting within Sungjin’s reach.)

“I want to be clear that I’m not running away,” Wonpil said, waving his hands. “I’m just taking a break.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Jae mocked.

“I’m not!” He whined.

“What were you planning to do during your ‘break’?” Dowoon asked in good humor.

Wonpil shrugged. “I didn’t think about it. I just wanted to get away from my father for a little bit.”

“Did you ever think about joining a band?”

Wonpil cracked a smile.

Dowoon realized that Sungjin wasn’t kidding when he said he was stopping everywhere he could to play to make money. They stopped in nameless villages and towns they hadn’t heard of that weren’t on maps for scraps of money, barely making a profit with the cost of hotels, gas, and food.

The next couple shows were rough.

People were wary of letting them play thanks to the bruise on Sungjin’s jaw. He couldn’t get an explanation in and it often cost them auditions.

Wonpil felt sorry and caught him sitting outside the hotel room one night, looking in a pocket notebook. He was swinging his legs over the edge of the stairs, using the light from the windows of the hotel room to read over his plans and cross off ones that wouldn’t work.

“Hyung, I wanted to apologize.”

He didn’t look up and responded without intonation or interest. “Why? What did you do?”

“About your jaw,” he said, easing himself down next to Sungjin. “It’s costing you auditions, isn’t it? You look like you’d cause problems.”

Sungjin did look up, briefly, at this, before looking back down at his book. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “We actually stayed longer than I originally planned in your hometown. We aren’t much behind. It is unfortunate though…” he mumbled, crossing something else off in his planner.

“Mm, that’s good.” It grew quiet between them again. “Is it burdensome if I travel with you?”

“Do you want the real answer to that?”

His breath hitched.

“I’m just kidding,” Sungjin said with a laugh. “Being a groupie doesn’t bother you?”

Wonpil laughed. “You’re a good group.”

Sungjin sighed, looking up from his book and out at the dark landscape in front of him. “Dowoon-ssi gets along well with Jaehyung-ssi, but… you two get along really well. I’m glad to see that. I was worried about him leaving home, about him coming with me. He has more options now, if he decides he doesn’t want to stay with me.”

Wonpil nodded as he listened. He wasn’t sure he completely understood. “What will we do next?” he asked.

“Well!” He looked back down at his book again. “All these little villages are hopeless. We’ll skip them and stay a little longer in the next big town. There’s a couple places we should be able to audition and find work.”

“How do you know all these places?”

“I traveled a lot with my old band,” Sungjin said. He shut his book before Wonpil could see anything in it. “I’ve been playing for a long time. I have some connections still,” he added with a laugh. He stuffed the planner in his pocket as he stood up. “Let’s go in and tell them the plan, huh?”

Chapter Text

Grin and bear it, he thought.

He was lucky. To have steady work doing what he wanted (even if it was in a shitty club). To be able to afford to live, to go to school. To have people that (maybe?) supported him as a group (even if they wouldn’t come to practice often enough. Even if they couldn’t often play the music he wrote. Even if--…)

“Younghyun-ah?”

He looked up.

“I’m sorry, Jinhwan-hyung,” he said with a laugh, waving his hand. “I’m tired. I had class this morning.”

His friend smiled and laughed with him. They were in the studio, practicing for tonight’s show. It was hard to get all of them together, but they were flexible and talented. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he sat up straight against the mirrored wall behind him. “What were you saying?”

“Sungmin-ah says he can’t make it to the show tonight.”

“Ah, Sungmin-ah,” he said regretfully. “So many girls come just to see him.”

“So I was thinking of trying something a little different tonight.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Let’s do a band concept. You always want to, right? I talked to the manager already, he says he’s down for it.”

Younghyun tried to keep himself from getting his hopes up. He swallowed hard. “Really? What would we play?”

Jinhwan shrugged. “It’s up to you. Something easy for the rest of us, maybe,” he said with a laugh.

Younghyun’s brain started working overtime. “I have instruments at my place. We should go practice. There’s got to be some things we can cover, at least…”

“If all else fails, you can go on by yourself, right? You’re popular at the club.”

“Hyung…” he started, a chastising voice.

“It’s short notice. We might not be able to pull anything together.”

Younghyun considered this.

“And, anyway, it wouldn’t be the first time you went on by yourself.”

“We’ll figure something out.” He stood up first, offering a hand to his friend. “Let’s go see what we can do.”

He was truly lucky.

They got into town late, but Jae didn’t let it dampen his spirits. He was tired, but he’d grab a coffee somewhere. This was prime time to catch some good acts.

“How about splitting up?” Jae asked. “I’ll go start scoping out the scene while you finish getting settled in the hotel.”

Sungjin was signing papers and agreed mindlessly. “Take someone with you,” he said as a precaution.

Dowoon and Wonpil looked at each other.

“I’ll stay and help him unpack,” Wonpil offered. “I don’t really know what you’re looking for in a venue, so…”

“Really?” Dowoon brightened up. “Thanks, Hyung!”

He and Jae hurried out before anybody changed their mind and were on the streets quickly, listening for loud music and looking for crowded places they could get into. They followed a crowd of girls into a club, low lights and flashy effects greeting them as they entered.

“Maybe not,” Dowoon said, waving fog out of his face.

But Jae heard singing.

Dance Dance with me
Everybody 123
Let’s get crazy, move it
Go as hard as you go

And it was damn good.

“Hold up,” Jae said, grabbing Dowoon’s arm. He pulled him along with him as he moved closer to the stage.

Front stage was a pretty boy on guitar, having the time of his life. Just listening casually, it was easy to tell he was the best of the band. He sang, rapped, and played guitar. The crowd loved him. (Jae would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a spiritual connection.)

“They aren’t that good,” Dowoon muttered.

“Their frontman’s great,” Jae said.

Dowoon conceded, nodding. “He couldn’t find a better band or what?”

“Let’s see if we can catch him after the show.”

Dowoon shrugged and went to get drinks for the two of them.

Younghyun was giddy after the show. It felt good. Everything felt good and he was riding this high. Everybody was complimenting him, the crowd loved the show. He felt invincible.

Jinhwan helped him pack everything up so he could take it back to his apartment.

“The band arrangements of our songs were amazing, Younghyun-ah.”

He laughed. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“I gotta go talk to the manager real quick. Mind waiting?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. They locked the car and headed back into the club through the back door. “I’m gonna get a drink, okay? Take your time, Hyung.”

Jinhwan clapped him on the shoulder with a smile and headed to the office, and Younghyun went to the bar. A few girls came up and complimented the set, but asked when Sungmin would be back.

“Probably tomorrow,” he answered. “This was kind of a one time thing. Did you like it?”

“It was good,” they said half-heartedly before leaving.

Younghyun watched them leave, not sure how to take that, and turned around to the bar to take a sip of his drink.

“One time thing?” a voice repeated next to him.

Younghyun turned. A tall guy with bleached hair was sitting a seat away from him. “Um, yes,” he answered, nodding. “You… don’t come here often, do you?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “But you were great, like… sensational… how do you say sensational in Korean?”

“Sensational,” he answered in Korean, his smile returning. “And thank you.”

“Oh, bro, you speak English too? This night just keeps getting better and better. Dowoon, he speaks English.”

The dark haired boy next to him nodded as he sipped on his drink.

“I’m Younghyun,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “My stage name with the group is Young K.”

“I’m Jae, this is Dowoon. So when you say this was a one time thing, what do you mean by that?”

“Well, we’re originally a dance group.”

“A dance group?” he asked incredulously.

Younghyun laughed. “Yeah. We have a lot of members, the main one couldn’t come tonight, so we decided to do something a little different.”

“So that explains why you were by far the best one,” Jae said.

He stifled a laugh into his drink, almost choking. “Well—no—I mean… they’re good at dancing, really, but a band isn’t really… something that they do…”

Jae and Dowoon laughed.

“Don’t defend them!” Jae said. “It’s fine, I’m sure they’re great dancers. But, if you want to jam, you should play with us.” He gestured to himself and Dowoon.

Younghyun looked between them.

“I have just one question,” Jae said dramatically. “Do you play bass too?”

“Sure,” he answered.

“Bro.”

Dowoon raised his brows.

“I thought we were looking for venues?” Wonpil asked curiously.

“We will,” Sungjin said passively, eyes scanning the road. He pulled into a service station. “Wait here for a minute,” he said politely, sliding out of the seat. He shut the door behind him and went to talk to a mechanic.

Wonpil sighed, watching Sungjin walk away as he sunk into the passenger-side seat. He was tired from helping him get everything out of it, moving everything he had into the hotel room so they could bring it to the shop for a checkup after the cross-country drive. Sungjin had been on and off the phone whenever he wasn’t moving stuff or talking to somebody in person, so Wonpil hadn’t even gotten to talk to him much.

Sungjin came walking back, gesturing with his hands to the mechanic. He unhooked the car key from everything else on his keychain after turning off the truck and handed it to the man. “Thank you,” he said, “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

The man waved after them as they walked out, Sungjin typing something away in the notes on his phone.

“What was that about?”

Sungjin shrugged. “The car has been driving a little weird, wanted to have it checked out before we went to Seoul,” he answered. “If anything’s wrong, I need to know how long we’re staying here.”

He huffed a sigh as he stuck the phone in his back pocket, walking down the street like he’d lived here his whole life.

“Lucky everything is close together here, huh?” he said.

Wonpil agreed halfheartedly, watching Sungjin from the corner of his eyes. His smile fell when he wasn’t actively being watched.

“Hyung…” he began. Sungjin acknowledged him but didn’t look at him. “What do you plan to do when you get to Seoul?”

He shrugged. “Find a band, try to sign with an agency, maybe. Lots of options in Seoul.”

“Isn’t this a band now?”

Sungjin spoke over him. “What about you? Are you coming with us to Seoul? What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I couldn’t stay there. I was so unhappy at home, and after hearing your song, I just… couldn’t stay. I didn’t know what else to do but leave.”

Sungjin nodded, a small smile of understanding on his face. He looked over at Wonpil. “It felt good, didn’t it?”

Wonpil laughed. “It did.”

“You can always go back home, you know, if you want. Dowoon-ssi can, too,” he said, looking back around them at the storefronts and people as they walked. “Leaving always feels good, but it isn’t easy. Going home is the same.”

Wonpil thought about it. Sungjin-hyung was probably right, but it felt better here. He decided: “I’d rather go to Seoul with you and Dowoon.”

Sungjin laughed. It wasn’t sincere. “Why would you do a thing like that?”

“You said there’s lots of options in Seoul,” he said with a shrug. “I could figure out what I want to do without somebody telling me.”

Sungjin punched him. “You’ll have to work to support yourself, you know.”

 “I know, I know, Hyung! Don’t hit me!” Wonpil laughed.

Younghyun opened the door to his apartment. Jae and Jinhwan helped him carry the instruments in. Two guitars, a bass, amps, and a couple mics.

“Damn, you go hard, bro,” Jae said.

Younghyun laughed. Jinhwan looked at Younghyun cluelessly and he explained, “Jae-hyung was saying how my equipment is serious.”

“Ah,” Jinhwan said, setting the bags down in one corner of the living room. “He’s right. I gotta head out. See you tomorrow?”

“Yes, Hyung. Good show tonight.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jae said.

“You too, Jaehyung.”

Jinhwan left, closing the door behind him. Jae couldn’t hold back anymore and started looking at Younghyun’s guitars, strumming them and humming to check their quality.

“Did you have an English name while you studied in Canada?” he asked, eyes down as he strummed.

“Ah, yeah. Brian.”

Jae nodded. “I like that. Brian. I’m gonna call you that from now on.”

Younghyun shrugged, sitting down on the couch across from Jae. “You sure your friend was okay staying at the club?”

“He said he was,” Jae answered, “anyway, he said he was gonna look for some other places we could audition at.”

He nodded. “I can rec some places. I’ll call some people.”

“Really? That would be bomb, man.” Jae said, finally looking up. “But let’s see you on bass, huh?”

“Ok, let’s do it,” he agreed. Younghyun grabbed his bass guitar.

They looked at each other, Younghyun setting the tempo and key, Jae followed with some chords to warm up. They played through the night like that, covering songs in English and Korean, laughing and wondering why on Earth it was so easy to play music together.

Chapter Text

Dowoon finished his drink, feeling a little hot in the face and chest. He paid his tab and stood up, making his way out of the club.

Did Jae-hyung really thing this was going to be a good place for a band to play?

He slid out of the doorway and looked up and down the street.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to look for venue’s tonight, he thought. He scratched his head and started walking back down the street, pulling his phone out of his pocket to look up nearby clubs and bars with live music.

He bumped into someone, dropping his phone.

“Watch it, kid.”

He scrambled to grab his phone. He checked it for damage before slipping it into his pocket.

Dowoon looked up at the man.

He was looking down at him with a scowl on his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to walk around him.

The man blocked his path.

Dowoon looked back up at him. “What?”

“Is that how you treat your elders? Aren’t you gonna ask if I’m okay?” the man asked.

“Well, are you?” Dowoon asked spiritlessly.

“No, no, no, that’s not how you ask.”

Dowoon scoffed. He was not in the mood for this and he was just tipsy enough to not care about the consequences of whatever he was about to get himself into. He scratched the back of his head again. “How am I meant to ask then?”

“You should ask politely ‘are you okay, sir?’” The man enunciated clearly, taking a step closer, getting into Dowoon’s face.

He didn’t back down. He smiled. “I’m fine, thank you,” he said instead, and tried again to step around him.

“You little shit--,” he growled, grabbing Dowoon by the collar of his shirt.

The woman’s voice came through the phone. “About the deposit… did you decide if you wanted the one bedroom or were you still looking?” she asked, her voice a sugar-coated customer service tone.

Sungjin glanced at Wonpil beside him as they walked through the dark streets. It was empty, no people to distract Wonpil from overhearing the conversation he was having. “I’m not sure what I need yet,” he answered vaguely. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll need an answer soon. Other people were interested in that apartment, you know, it was a good deal on the lease and it’s in a good area.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“So?”

Sungjin sighed. Was he about to give up his plans for a couple of guys he wasn’t sure about? He’d had this place booked for weeks. He’d felt okay because he knew he’d have a place to stay once he got to Seoul. But now?

“Sir?”

“Yes—I’m here, I’m sorry.”

On the other hand there would be other places.

But what if it didn’t work out? What if they decided to go their separate ways in the city?

Wonpil grabbed onto his arm. “Hyung!”

“Sir, what did you want to do?”

Wonpil pointed across the street.

“Shit.”

That was Dowoon. He was in trouble.

“Sign someone else,” he said into the phone, running across the street. “Hey!!”

“This doesn’t concern you. Better just to leave.”

“Actually it does,” Sungjin said, trying to wedge himself between Dowoon and the other man. “What’s going on here?”

The man hesitantly loosened his grip on Dowoon enough that Sungjin could separate them.

“Hyung,” Dowoon greeted, surprise and alcohol making his voice a pitch higher than normal.

“Shut up,” he muttered. He repeated, clearly, “What’s going on here?”

“You’re his hyung?” The man scoffed. “Teach this kid some respect, huh?”

“What did he do to you?”

“Bumped into me. I just had my appendix out. He could’ve hurt me.”

Yeah, right, Sungjin thought, looking him up and down. “Oh? So you can’t really fight then, huh?”

“What was that, you bastard?”

Sungjin smiled sweetly, cocking his head. “Just an observation. I’m sorry if he hurt you. Please recover well,” he said, pulling Dowoon with him into a deep bow.

“That’s more like it.” The man sniffed haughtily and walked around the two of them. He knew he was outmatched if it was three on one.

Sungjin watched him go, making sure he were gone before slapping Dowoon over the head.

“What the hell were you thinking? Did you think you could fight him, Dowoon-ssi?” he shouted.

Dowoon shrugged and didn’t say anything.

“Dowoon-ssi!”

“I wasn’t really thinking anything,” he answered, avoiding eye contact.

“Where’s Jaehyung-ssi?”

He gestured vaguely. “He went with someone—Kang Younghyun. We saw him in the club and hyung wanted to talk to him about playing with us.”

Sungjin watched him as he talked. “You’re drunk, huh,” he said.

Dowoon didn’t answer again for a moment. He inhaled deeply, trying to sober himself a little. “How come,” he said, “it’s okay when you get into fights, but not me?”

“I don’t get into fights.”

“You got punched, Hyung.”

Wonpil felt his stomach drop.

“You got blacklisted before that, that’s why we’re here. Jun-Hyung said that he wanted to come with you, too, but he was afraid of what he’d get into if he did because you always speak up like this.”

Sungjin’s heart skipped a beat. “You talked to him?”

“I just want to play drums,” Dowoon mourned. “What about you? What do you want? Why do we always end up getting in trouble?”

Ah.

He sighed. “I know it’s been hard, Dowoon-ssi. I know,” he said, placing a hand hesitantly on Dowon’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. Let’s go back to the hotel and get you into bed, huh?”

“Shit, it’s this late already?” Jae asked. He rubbed his eyes and laughed.

Younghyun laughed with him. “Did you want to stay here?”

“Is that cool?”

“Of course,” he answered. “You’ll have to sleep on the sofa, though.”

“Sofa’s fine.” Jae hopped up on the couch.

“Let me get some blankets,” he said and left for the bedroom. Jae yelled something from the living room, and Younghyun laughed to himself at how energetic he was.

“Brian!” He shouted. “Brian, you’re getting a phone call!”

“Are you being this annoying on purpose?” he asked facetiously, grabbing an armful of blankets and a couple of pillows. He threw them at Jae and grabbed his phone off the floor.

It was his boss.

He held up a hand to signal to Jae to be quiet as he answered. “Hello, Hyungnim?”

“Younghyun?”

“Yes, Seungyoon-Hyung. How are you?”

“Fine. I heard you had a good night with the band concept,” he said. His voice was rough from smoke and yelling.

“Ah, thank you. It seemed like the crowd enjoyed it.”

“I was thinking we should hire a band to play more often. Jinhwan told me I should call you to ask, said you might know some people.”

Younghyun glanced at Jae.

He didn’t know whether this was a chance or a loss for either of them. If he could play music with Jae’s band that would be great. But did he really want to subject his new friend to the way his boss managed people? He wasn’t necessarily kind, even if it offered steady work.

“I… might,” he said slowly. “I can ask around tomorrow.”

“Great. Let me know if anybody’s interested and have them call me to set up an audition.”

“Of course. Good night, Hyungnim.” He waited until Seungyoon hung up before he set his phone down.

Jae raised a brow at him. “Your boss calls you this late?”

Younghyun shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Jae snuggled into his makeshift bed.

“Can I meet your band tomorrow?” Younghyun asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Probably. It’s a match made in heaven, trust me.”

Wonpil dumped Dowoon into the hotel bed. He tumbled into it and covered himself up.

“Stop it, you aren’t that drunk,” Wonpil chastised with a laugh.

Dowoon laughed. “Thanks.”

Wonpil sat on the bed next to him. “Are you okay?”

“He didn’t touch me.” Dowoon groaned as he rolled over onto his back.

“I didn’t mean about getting into a fight.”

Dowoon looked like he was pretending to be asleep. But Wonpil waited patiently for an answer, and he opened his eyes.

 “I’m okay,” he said finally.

Wonpil knew it was the truth, the conclusion that Dowoon had come to after having thought hard about it.

“I just want to play drums with Sungjin-hyung, that’s all. He has all of us to help him now, but he keeps acting like he has to save everybody. It costs him, it causes him trouble. Can’t he take care of himself too? Or let us help him?”

He didn’t know what to say. He felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“I don’t blame you, Hyung. I’m glad that we picked you up, too.”

“I’m sorry my dad punched him.”

“He deserved it. He said he wasn’t gonna get involved.”

Wonpil laughed, hitting Dowoon on the arm. “Don’t say that!”

Dowoon laughed.

“Ah, now you’re sounding drunk again. Go to sleep.”

When he stopped laughing, Dowoon settled into a smile with his eyes closed. “Don’t feel bad, Hyung, really. Sungjin-hyung did the right thing helping you. I’m glad that you came with us. Wasn’t this meant to be, all of us together?”

It didn’t take long for Dowoon to fall asleep after that, and Wonpil slipped out of the room. Sungjin was sitting in a chair outside, phone and planner tossed on the end table next to him. He sighed frustratedly, ruffling his hair as he looked at the dirty pool on the ground level of the hotel. If he noticed Wonpil sitting in the chair on the other side of the table, he made no sign of it.

“Dowoonie fell asleep,” Wonpil said hesitantly, to announce his presence.

“Thank you for taking care of him.” Sungjin didn’t look over, but moved restlessly in his chair. “Jaehyung-ssi texted me. He’s staying with someone named Brian.”

Wonpil nodded slowly. “Hyung, may I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“You and Dowoon—what exactly is your relationship?”

Sungjin sighed again, but it was softer, gentler this time, and he finally looked in Wonpil’s direction.

Chapter Text

Eighteen months earlier…

Sungjin loved playing at music festivals. He loved the crowds, the energy. He wandered through the grounds, soaking in the sun, listening to the bands. He wasn’t looking for anybody in particular, but there was someone that had caught his eye: A guest musician. A drummer that had been specially invited by the board sponsoring the festival.

He wasn’t hard to find. He was heavily advertised.

Sungjin watched the show. The drummer was backing a band, but it was clear that they didn’t know each other. He had a good solo to show off his skills.

He felt satisfied assessing the drummer’s skill and was about to leave when a sleekly dressed woman caught him by the arm.

“Sungjin-ssi,” she greeted with a sugary voice.

“Oh, Yoona-ssi.”

Im Yoona was one of the members of the board sponsoring this festival. They’d met at several events and worked together often. He trusted her to arrange top-notch events and manage things well, but he kept a professional distance from her. He didn’t dislike her, but Sungjin had learned to be wary of the best dressed managers around him, with good reason. More than a few friends had disappeared under their management, going into debt, working hard with no free time or freedom.

She offered him a cup of soda in a paper cup with a straw sticking out the top, the paper wrapped around the top of it in a sign of good will. “Do me a favor?”

“What is it?” He asked warily, taking the cup.

She gestured for him to follow, and he did. They weaved through the crowd to get backstage, Yoona flashing her badge to get them where she wanted to go. The screams of the crowd were muffled back here, but Sungjin could feel the vibrations from the speakers in his chest as the next band started their set.

“I want you to show Dowoon-ssi around,” she yelled over the music.

“The drummer you invited?” he asked incredulously.

“The very one!” she said proudly. “Introduce him, treat him nice.”

“Why me?”

“You’re a good hyung,” she answered plainly. “You’re a senior, you know most of the people around here.”

He laughed unhappily. “Great. Thanks.”

She smiled at him genuinely.

The drummer was thanking the band, shaking their hands and bowing, still holding on tight to his drumsticks. He was tall, with curly dark hair.

“How was it, Dowoon-ssi?” Yoona asked, striding up to him.

“It was a lot of fun, thank you,” he said. He had a cute smile. “I really want to play here again. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course! Find a good band and come back next year.” She pat him on the back, her hand lying on his shoulder. “This is Park Sungjin. I asked him to show you around if you want it. He’s a friend of mine, knows a lot of the bands around here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sungjin said. “I saw your set. You’re great.”

“Oh really?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Thank you!”

Sungjin laughed.

“I’m Yoon Dowoon.”

They spent the day checking out other acts, awkwardly trying not to speak over each other when they ate. Dowoon spent a lot of the time saying it was nice to meet people as Sungjin introduced them.

Sungjin was packing his things, double checking to make sure his band didn’t leave any equipment after their show.

A voice rang through the room. “Hm? Where’s Yoon Dowoon? I asked you to look after him.”

Sungjin turned around to look at the door. Im Yoona was watching him with her arms crossed.

“He went home,” he answered, looking back down at his things. “He’s still young, you know.”

She leaned against the doorway. “What did you think of him?”

“He’s a good kid. Good drummer. Ambitious.” Sungjin lifted up his bags and turned again to her (and the exit). “Don’t… try to manipulate him, okay?”

She raised a brow. “Sungjin-ah, please,” she said, with a feign innocence.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, I know how you work,” he said. “I’m serious. He could do really well. Don’t jeopardize it for him.”

“We’ll see,” she said quickly, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Anyway, I’m really here about you. Where’s your band?”

His eyes strayed to the exit beside her. “Packing the truck,” he answered slowly. “What’s this about?”

“Well, let’s say, my company’s interested in you,” she said. “But only you. As a singer-songwriter.”

He sighed. “We’ve talked about this, Yoona-ssi…”

“I know, I know,” she said. “This is the best deal I could get you. They’re willing to negotiate terms.”

“I’m not doing anything without my band. Those are my terms.”

“Are you really going to stunt your career for them? A band is only as good as their worst player, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Yoona-ssi.”

She scoffed. “You will be. The industry isn’t kind—you know that. You have to look out for yourself.”

“I’m doing fine, thank you.” He pushed past her and shouted, “Jun-ssi! You almost forgot these!”

The next time Sungjin met Dowoon, he was with a band. It hadn’t taken long for him to find a group that matched his talent. They happened to be playing at the same venue. Dowoon looked happy on stage.

Sungjin made his way backstage right before Dowoon’s band finished, and he waited to say hello.

“Ah—Sungjin-hyung!” he greeted.

Sungjin smiled, laughing, and they shook hands. “You looked good up there,” he said.

Dowoon feigned modesty and waved the praise away. He changed the subject. “It’s good to see you again, but what are you doing here?”

“Don’t you pay attention to who you’re playing with? My band plays in a little bit,” he explained.

“Oh really? Let me buy you a drink in the meantime then.”

They grinned at each other and walked back out to the bar to catch up. They exchanged numbers, knowing that they would run into each other more and more often from now on.

And they were right. Sungjin and Dowoon saw each other often, whether through mutual friends or venues, planned or not.

A few months after his band’s debut, Dowoon told Sungjin he had good news.

“I got scouted,” he said.

“What?” Sungjin felt his stomach tighten. Was this excitement? Or panic?

“They offered me a contract.”

“Did you sign it yet?”

“Well, no, I’m not stupid,” he said with a laugh. “And my parents are against it.”

Sungjin breathed a sigh of relief. “Good—they should be. Who offered it to you anyway?”

He shrugged. “Someone I’ve never heard of before,” he said with a laugh.

“Probably better to have your parents’ lawyer look at it,” Sungjin advised. “Just to be safe.”

Dowoon shrugged.

“But congratulations,” he said genuinely. Dowoon cracked a smile. “Once one person offers, everyone will. You’re on your way to fame, Yoon Dowoon.”

He hadn’t been wrong.

A lot of agents and managers had started approaching him. He bragged to Sungjin about it whenever he got the chance. When he had to knock him down a peg or two, Sungjin would mention all the contracts he’d been offered to get him to shut up.

His opinion of Dowoon changed one night after he got a call.

“Sungjin hyung?” He said over the phone.

His voice was shaking, just a little. It was late. Shouldn’t he be at home? Did he have a show tonight? No, not that he knew of. A thousand scenarios were running through his mind before he answered steadily. “Dowoon-ssi? Is everything okay?”

“Um,” he stalled.

Sungjin’s breath hitched.

“I left home.”

He sighed in relief. Audibly. He ran a hand through his hair as he fell back into his couch. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“I’m at the convenience store now. One of my bandmates is picking me up.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he said.

He believed him. Almost. “What happened?”

Dowoon sighed on the other side of the line. “My parents want me to quit. They think I’m spending too much time on the band, that I can’t do this. But this is all I want to do—all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“I know, Dowoon-ssi.”

“Why can’t they understand that?”

“They will, it just takes time,” Sungjin offered. “They’ll see how serious you are someday. But don’t burn your bridges, okay? They’re your parents. It’s hard to understand them too, but they’re trying to look out for you in the best way they can.”

“I’m going to play drums whether they want me to or not. I’m going to show them that I can do this.”

“I know you will, Dowoon-ssi. You’re a great drummer. Just… be careful, alright? It’s a dangerous industry and you need all the friends and support you can get.”

“I don’t need my parents for that.”

“Dowoon-ssi--…”

“That’s why I have you, right?” he said cheekily.

Sungjin laughed. “I’m being serious, you know!” he shouted into the phone.

Dowoon laughed, lightly, on the other side of the line. “My mate’s here. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Really!” Sungjin shouted. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll see you later.”

It was at the next big festival—a battle of the bands—that Sungjin got them into trouble. They were sitting at the bar, watching another band play until it was their turn.

Dowoon’s ambition was making him reckless and bitter and Sungjin took every opportunity he had to try to calm him down.

“Your time will come, Dowoon-ssi,” he’d tell him. “You don’t want to rush into a contract.”

“Even if I find the perfect contract, there’s no guarantee I could get it,” he muttered, sipping on his drink. “A lot of people won’t sign me without my parents’ permission and collateral.”

“Once you’re a little older, you won’t need any of that. You’ll be more financially stable, and you won’t need to rely on them,” he reminded him.

Dowoon scoffed.

“You haven’t made up with them yet?”

“I tried talking to them, but…” he shrugged, taking another sip. “They’re adamant about not letting me sign. I can drink but I can’t sign a contract without my parents,” he added bitterly.

“You need to make up with them.”

Dowoon downed the rest of his drink to avoid answering.

“That looks like a boy who’s drinking to avoid his problems,” a voice rang out.

The two of them turned around as Yoona strode up to them.

“Enjoying the show?” She asked.

They nodded. “It’s a great event,” Dowoon said.

“Of course!” She said with a smile. “I’m glad to see you two have become so close since I introduced you!”

“Everything’s running well?” Sungjin asked. He could tell she had ulterior motives—she always did—but he didn’t know what they were yet.

“Doesn’t it always?” she boasted, tossing her immaculate hair over her shoulder. “I’m surprised you aren’t warming up, Sungjin-ssi. Isn’t your band going up soon?”

He checked his watch. “Do you keep such close tabs on everybody?” he asked, sliding bills across the bar to the bartender as he stood up.

She shrugged. “Only the ones I like.”

He had a bad feeling about this.

“Here you are, Hyung!” Jun walked up, joining the trio. “We were looking for you. Oh, hey, Dowoonie.”

Dowoon raised a hand in greeting.

“We were going to warm up, come on.”

“I’m coming,” Sungjin said. He tossed a glance at Yoona before looking back at Dowoon. “Call your parents. I’m serious.”

He followed Jun to a practice room, leaving Yoona and Dowoon alone.

They played their set, loud and energetic, the vibrations from the music and the shouts crowd taking up all the space in his ears and head, his feet and chest, his whole body, so he didn’t have time to focus on the fact that he couldn’t find Dowoon in the audience.

They were stuck backstage. The crowd was wild, calling for an encore (which was impossible due to time constraints, management said.) Sungjin paced, eager to get out there and find out what Yoona had said to Dowoon.

“The show was great, huh, Hyung?” Jun asked. “Listen to them!”

Sungjin mumbled in response. It was a good show. They had a good chance of winning this thing, if he thought about it.

But he was having trouble thinking about it.

“Are you okay?”

Sungjin shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. It was good, wasn’t it?”

Jun smiled. “We were great.”

Yoona walked in. “Seems like you all will be able to leave in a few minutes here,” she announced. “You hyped the crowd quite a bit! I haven’t seen them this excited in a while!”

The band looked at each other excitedly. She leaned outside the door before popping back in.

“Good to go, boys. Good show.”

They filed out in front of Sungjin.

She smiled knowingly at him.     

“What did you say to Dowoon-ssi?” he asked in a low voice.

“Naturally, I offered him a contract. You think we could pass up a talent like him?”

“He said no, right?”

She laughed, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Quite the contrary. He’s with another agent finishing up the paperwork now.”

 He scoffed, feeling anger building in his fists. “You’re a real piece of work. What did you say to him?”

“That we could sign him under a trial so he wouldn’t need his parent’s signature,” she said with a short, ingenuine laugh.

“Don’t do this do him.”

“What are you talking about? I think it’s quite fair,” she said, pretending to examine her nails.

“I know how you work, Yoona-ssi.” The next band filed in past them, and Sungjin tried to keep his voice low so he wouldn’t disrupt them, but it was taking everything he had not to yell. “You’re good at discovering talent but you’re shitty at taking care of them. You’ll work him to death. He won’t have any freedom.”

She raised a brow.

“Will he even debut? You know he wants to write his own music? Would you let him do that?”

“We’ll see.”

“If you think I’m not going to convince him to not sign right now, you’re wrong,” he said, pushing past her.

“He’s with my boss right now!” She shouted after him.

He stopped.

“You know he’s in charge of this event, right?” she said. Her voice wasn’t harsh, but sympathetic. “You’d botch your own show. Your band has a really good chance at winning this, Sungjin-ssi.”

“Where are they?”

She sighed. “The management office.”

Sungjin pushed past his band as they tried to talk to him, and busted into the management office.

Dowoon and Yoona’s boss both turned to look at Sungjin. Sungjin had only met Yoona’s boss on a few occasions and didn’t like him any time he did. He was hard on his employees and the talents he employed, even if it got them far in the industry.

“Hyung?” Dowoon said.

“Can I help you?” the man said.

“Don’t do this,” he said. “You’ll regret it if you do. You’ll end up in debt and they’ll work you to death, you won’t even necessarily be able to play the music you want--…”

“Who are you? Get out of here!” the man shouted.

Dowoon stood up, looking between the two of them, unsure about what to do. “Hyung--,” he began.

“He’s drunk anyway,” Sungjin shouted desperately, “he can’t legally sign a contract right now.”

“I’m not--,” he stuttered.

“Security! Get this man out of here!”

A bouncer came in, grabbing Sungjin by the arm.

“Something better will come along, I promise. If you’ve never believed me before, please believe me now.”

The bouncer pulled on his arm, and Sungjin stumbled out of the room. The man closed the door after him.

“What the fuck did you do?” his bandmates shouted at him. “We would have won!”

“I know,” Sungjin said, sighing. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“It was a cash prize! We needed that money! Are you crazy?”

“We got disqualified because you yelled at the coordinator of the event! What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You did all this for what—some kid?”

“Hey, stop,” he said. “Dowoon-ssi is a talented drummer too, and you know it.”

“Then go join his band.”

“What?”

“You obviously don’t care about us, huh?”

“That isn’t true--,” Sungjin began. “I gave up so much for you guys, too. I was offered so many gigs and contracts on my own and I turned them all down for you!”

“Bullshit.”

“We can’t do this anymore, Hyung.”

He looked at all of them, all of their faces. A mix of pity and anger. “Are you… kicking me out of the band?”

Their silence said it all.

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Okay, fine. Probably better anyway.”

If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to play here at all anymore.

Yoona’s boss controlled most of the business in the area.

“Is that true… about the contracts?” Jun asked quietly. Everybody else had left, was packing up the van after the contest. Sungjin hadn’t noticed Jun had stayed.

“Yeah,” he answered.

He sniffed. “I’m sorry, Hyung. I didn’t want to…”

“Don’t cry, Jun-ssi. I understand.”

“They were worried about being able to play anywhere again,” he explained, his voice cracking. “If we made any enemies, it would be hard.”

Sungjin nodded. “I know. Go on. They’ll leave you behind, too.”

He nodded and ran off. He slammed the van door closed and they drove off.

Sungjin called a taxi and took that home.

It was as he thought. He couldn’t get a gig anywhere.

The band had trouble, at first, until everyone else learned that Sungjin wasn’t involved anymore. It was a bittersweet feeling. (Mostly bitter.)

Every once in a while Jun would call and tell him how things were, but the calls were getting more and more infrequent. Jun mentioned that Dowoon had ended up turning down the contract that day but that he was having trouble getting work now too because of it.

He decided to call him. “Dowoon-ssi,” he greeted. “Long time no see. I wanted to see how you were doing since last time. I heard you haven’t been working so much…”

Dowoon’s voice crackled through the phone. “Hard to get work as a solo drummer.”

“Your band kicked you out, too?”

“They were mad I was going to take a contract without telling them,” he explained. “It was sort of mutual that we part ways. I’m not exactly blacklisted, but… it can be hard to get work if somebody knows we’re friends.”

“Ah.” Sungjin swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.”

Before he could stop himself, he said, “you aren’t any trouble.”

“Yeah, right,” Dowoon said with a quiet laugh.

Sungjin tried to laugh. “What they were doing… it isn’t right. I couldn’t let them do that to you.”

“It’s good to hear from you, Hyung. Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine.”

It was a boldfaced lie. He was quickly running out of money with no work. He’d have to do something soon.

It didn’t take long for him to break his lease and make a plan to leave all this behind him.

He had never planned for Dowoon to come with him.

Chapter Text

Present time…

Wonpil woke up early. Dowoon must have been sleeping off the alcohol. Sungjin was also asleep, though not peacefully, after having explained to him what made him leave his hometown.

It was not a happy story. He understood why Sungjin-hyung was so wary about saying they were a band—about committing to these people he barely knew. But all Dowoon wanted was to play drums with him. And Jae-hyung knew what it was like to be abandoned by a band, too.

Couldn’t he see how perfect this was?

Sungjin rolled over in his bed, squinting up at him in a way that looked like a glare. “Are you okay, Wonpil-ssi?” he asked, his voice deep and rough with sleep.

“Yes, Hyung. Going to get some coffee,” he answered quietly. He pat Sungjin on the head, smoothing his bedhead. Sungjin batted his hands away grumpily and rolled over again.

“Be careful,” he mumbled, and was asleep again before Wonpil was out the door.

The air outside was warm in the Summer morning. He had the summer break to decide if he would stay in Seoul or if he would return home to go to school. Wonpil found a close by café and stepped inside. He bought a small coffee and paid in cash (everything was cash these days—he’d pulled everything out of his account in case his father wanted to freeze it), and slid into a small booth by a window. And then he called Soyeon.

“Wonpil-ssi?” She answered excitedly.

“Hi, Soyeon-ssi.”

“Hey! You should have called sooner! Is everything okay? Where are you?”

He breathed easy. It was nice to hear something so familiar, so friendly and sure of herself. “I’m okay. I… don’t remember where we are now. You won’t believe it—that band we saw? I’m travelling with them now.”

“Kim Wonpil,” she said with fake severity, “you’d better be kidding me.”

“I’m not. Sungjin-ssi is surprisingly funny.”

She laughed on the other side of the line. When it faded, the silence felt heavy. “Are you really okay, Wonpil-ssi?”

“I’m… okay. How’s everything there?”

“Well.” She huffed. He imagined her sharp, pretty eyes narrowing at the thought. Her long, straight hair flowing as he crossed her arms exaggeratedly. “Pretty messed up, to be honest. Your dad is laying low for now. There were photos and video of your dad punching Sungjin-ssi. My dad is trying to untangle himself from your dad because of it. With the reelection coming up… It’s slowing their cooperation and the reconstruction process. Good news for me, at least.”

“That’s good,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said.

“Don’t be. How’s the protests going?”

“Surge of new support!” She shouted. “I haven’t even mentioned anything about the government property seizures. Still researching that. But this news colored him in a bad light, so people aren’t afraid to stand up to him and tell him what’s what.”

Wonpil laughed. “Imagine if they had my statement, too.”

“Wonpil-ssi!” She scolded good-naturedly, “You would betray your own father?”

“Anything to help the cause,” he said. He meant it, too. He wanted for her to succeed. (Or was it for is father to fail?) He wanted The Music Bar to be there if he ever went home.

She was quiet for a moment. “I hope it won’t come to that,” she said, and he knew she meant it too. She didn’t want to destroy families for this. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“Good luck, Soyeon-ssi.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Wonpil set his phone down on the table and drank his coffee slowly, watching the rest of the town wake up and fill the streets, busy with their own lives.

Younghyun was relieved to be done with the semester, finally. He stretched in his bed lazily after sleeping in. He’d taken his last finals earlier this week, and yesterday he had a successful stage as a band and met Jae.

His eyes popped open.

Jae.

Younghyun jumped out of bed and leaned into the living room, peeking to see Jae still bundled up in a million blankets on his sofa. He breathed a sigh of relief that his houseguest hadn’t 1, robbed him and left in the middle of the night or 2, woken up before him and felt awkward and lost while he was sleeping. He ran a hand through his hair and went to get in the shower.

When he finished, Jae was awake, strumming away on his guitar.

I’m just talking to myself

I can’t even blame you

Because the one who made me become alone

Was me

He really did have a good voice.

Jae stopped singing, looking up at Younghyun in the doorway of his bedroom, while his hands still played. “Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Younghyun said in return. “Did you write that?”

Jae nodded, still playing.

“It’s good.”

He smiled cockily. “What can I say?”

Younghyun laughed. “Your band needs a place to play, right? My boss is looking for a band to play at the club.”

His hands stopped.

“He isn’t the nicest boss. I don’t know if you want to play for someone like him. If you want an audition, I can call him, but…”

“Am I hearing you right? You’re offering us an audition at your club?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding slightly.

“Look, I’ve played in some shitty places before for some shitty people. My last band was pretty bad. But this new group? Especially if you play with us? Man, we’re golden. It’s gonna be great. What are we waiting for? Let’s go. Call your boss, I’ll clean this up, call Sungjin, we can go meet them.” Jae moved quickly, putting his guitar in its case and starting to fold blankets up.

“Who says I’m playing with you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Younghyun shrugged. “I have a group.”

Jae scoffed and waved his hands like it was incidental. “Look man, I saw you on stage last night, though. You wanna play music, huh?”

“Hyung…” he sighed.

“I’m not saying anything permanent. I know it seems like I jump into things, but we should give it a try. Sungjin doesn’t want to commit to anything either, anyway. He keeps insisting he’s just giving me a lift to Seoul and then we’re parting ways.”

Younghyun offered a weak laugh, not quite understanding.

Jae finished folding the blankets and made a big pile out of them on the sofa. He sat down next to it. “I just wanna play with a good band. We don’t have a bassist. It would be fun while it lasts, right?”

He sighed again, his shoulders falling. “Okay, you’re right. Nothing permanent.”

“Right! Let’s go!”

Sungjin shook Dowoon awake through the covers. “Jaehyung-ssi texted. He’s on the way back with someone named Brian.”

Dowoon peeked up at him and stretched across the whole bed, looking around. “Where’s Wonpil-hyung?”

“He went to get coffee earlier,” he answered. Sungjin wandered to the back of the room and changed into a clean shirt and fixed his hair. “Jaehyung-ssi said Brian-ssi plays bass and wanted to meet us.”

Dowoon sat up and watched him, still half asleep. “Kang Younghyun at the club last night played bass…” he mumbled, thinking hard, cocking his head.

He turned to look at him. “What?”

Dowoon waved his hand, pushing the subject aside. “Nothing,” he mumbled again. Sungjin turned around to the mirror again. Dowoon cleared the sleep out of his throat and spoke up a bit louder. “Are we gonna talk about last night?”

Sungjin didn’t turn back around to him. “What’s there to talk about?”

Dowoon shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.”

Sungjin watched him in the mirror as he threw the pillows across the bed and stand up, his shoulders tense.

He turned around. “Dowoon-ssi--…”

The door opened, letting sunshine and warmth into the room. “Hello hello, my good friends,” Jae announced dramatically as he came into the room. “This is Brian.”

A pretty boy stepped in after him, observing Dowoon and Sungjin. “Hello,” he greeted politely. “I’m Kang Younghyun. My stage name is Young K.”

Dowoon and Sungjin exchanged a quick glance.

“I studied in Canada,” he explained, “my name over there was Brian.”

They nodded in understanding.

“He says he’ll play with us while we’re here, if we want,” Jae said. “Jamming with him on bass felt like… magical.”

Younghyun laughed shyly. “He says you two are good, as well.”

Sungjin sat down on the bed. “Jaehyung-ssi told you we’re only stopping through on our way to Seoul, right?”

“Yes. But my boss is looking for a band to play at the club I dance at,” he said delicately, “if you’re interested, he’s agreed to see you for an audition. The contracts are pretty flexible.”

“The venue isn’t bad,” Jae added.

“Can’t hurt to try, Hyung,” Dowoon chimed in.

“And, besides that,” Younghyun said slyly, “I’ve heard Jae-ssi, but I want to hear you guys altogether, too.”

It was more of a dance club than anything, Wonpil thought as he stepped in. He double checked the address Dowoon had sent him. This was the right place, but no sign of any of his friends as he looked around.

It was midday—not many people around.

“Wonpil-ssi?”

He turned his attention away from the fancy looking bar and dance floor. A chic looking guy was walking up to him with a smile. He returned the smile. “Ah, yes?”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kang Younghyun. Dowoonie told me you’d be here soon. They’re in the back getting ready for an audition,” he explained.

“Ah,” he breathed, nodding. “You know Dowoon?”

“Oh no, we just met.” Younghyun waved his hands. “Cute kid.”

“Ah.”

“Oh, excuse me.” He pat Wonpil on the shoulder and took a few, long legged strides across the room to meet a tall, scary looking man. “Seungyoon-hyungnim isn’t here today?” he asked.

“Just me. But we can take care of the paperwork, and Hyung can sign off on it tomorrow night when he comes in.”

Must not be the boss-boss, Wonpil thought, watching the two of them interact. The man gestured to Wonpil with his head.

“Who’s that?”

“A friend,” Younghyun explained hastily.

This had bad news written all over it.

The group filed on stage after doing a sound check. Younghyun invited Wonpil to sit down behind his boss.

“Thanks for letting us audition. I’m Park Sungjin, this is Park Jaehyung, and that’s Yoon Dowoon back on drums.”

The man nodded.

Wonpil leaned back and watched Younghyun from the corner of his eyes. He looked excited.

The song started with a good guitar riff. Distinctly rock, but upbeat enough for a club, enough to dance to. Wonpil felt his chest swell as he listened to them—hearing them was the beginning of something for him. They knew how to hype a crowd, always, but there was always a sentimentality in their songs as well.

No matter how hard I try to approach you

I know my heart can’t reach you

I know very well

But the tears in your eyes

Shake me up and make me say

Younghyun swallowed hard next to Wonpil as he listened. They were good. Like, really good. They had chemistry. Was it okay to get them involved with such a shitty boss, even if it was for a short time? He barely knew them, how could he do this to them? They deserved better.

This is for the best.

He hurt you.

Lean on me.

You can meet a good person.

They finished the song, but Younghyun’s boss was the only one clapping. “Guys—great! I love it. Let’s talk, huh? Seungyoon-hyung will have to sign off on the final papers tomorrow, but we can get started today.”

Jae and Dowoon were stoked.

“Ah, thank you.” They hopped off the stage. Sungjin followed Younghyun’s boss into the back office to negotiate a contract. Younghyun watched him nervously.

Jae’s voice pulled him back to the room. “What did you think?”

Wonpil gave them two thumbs up.

“It was good, Hyung,” Younghyun answered with a smile. “You guys are amazing.”

“Are you gonna play with us tomorrow night or what?”

He laughed. “I’ll be performing with my group, Hyung. I don’t know any of your songs, anyway.”

“Improvise!” He shouted, waving his hands. “And you know you’d rather play than dance. Psh.”

He would. Jaehyung-ssi was one hundred percent right about that. He liked dancing, he liked his friends in his group, but… “I have an obligation to them, you know.”

(Even if he couldn’t play the music he wanted. Even if he couldn’t do the routines he wanted. Even if he didn’t have the freedoms he wanted--…)

“Porque no los dos?” Jae said.

Everybody turned to look at him.

“Hyung, is that Spanish?” Younghyun asked.

“Bro, I was born in Argentina.”

“What?”

“The point is--,” he continued in Korean, “you can do both, right? Dance and play with us?”

Younghyun looked at him, opened his mouth to say something.

Jae spoke over him. “You already said you would.”

He laughed instead, and Jae waggled his brows at him.

If he practiced with them, played with them, at least he could intervene if Seungyoon started getting out of hand. They could go on their way (to their dreams, to something better), they wouldn’t get hurt, and he wouldn’t have to deal with leaving behind everything he’d built here (even if it felt shaky sometimes), and nothing would change. Nothing would change, he told himself.

“We should get to practice, then,” he said, feigning defeat to cover his excitement.

Sungjin stayed behind to negotiate the contract and sign paperwork. Dowoon said he trusted Sungjin with this, and that seemed to be enough for Jae. Younghyun offered up his apartment for a practice place. (He didn’t have drums, but they could improvise something, probably, he said.) It was marginally better than trying to practice in a hotel room, so they took up the whole sidewalk as Younghyun lead them back to his apartment. They got food on the way, taking up the whole sidewalk as they got to know each other.

Younghyun led them up the narrow stairs and into his small apartment. He promptly directed Dowoon, who enlisted Wonpil’s help, to the kitchen to try to find anything they could substitute for drum parts as Jae and Younghyun set the food out on the table in the living room.

“You trust Sungjin-hyung with your contract?” Younghyun asked quietly, tentatively.

Jae just shrugged, like it wasn’t his whole life in somebody else’s hands. “Sure, he’s done good so far.”

“What’s that mean?”

He paused, sitting back as Younghyun finished setting the table. He was thinking hard on how to phrase his words, but decided to explain in English instead. “When I got here from America, I was so eager to start playing and singing that I didn’t care who I was with or what I was doing, right. I ended up with some guys, but they… weren’t great. Before I met Sungjin, you know, I had a fight with the other guys about them not practicing enough and I wanted more money, whatever, right, but they were pissed, so they ditched me after the gig in the middle of nowhere. I was hitchhiking when I met Sungjin and Dowoon. I wasn’t gonna stick with them for this long really, but Sungjin’s been really fair and they’re so good. Playing together just feels, like, right, you know?”

Younghyun felt his heart ache. He knew the feeling, because he’d felt it the night before when he played with Jae.

There was a clatter in the kitchen before they could say anything else to each other. Dowoon and Wonpil came into the living room, armed with pots of different sizes and a couple wooden spoons. They set them on the ground before settling down to eat with the other two. Sungjin knocked on the door a few minutes later and joined them.

“How’d it go?” Jae asked.

Sungjin shrugged. “Good enough. Isn’t it weird to negotiate a contract without the boss there?”

Younghyun sighed. “Seungyoon-hyungnim is a bit…” he couldn’t think of a polite enough word, and Sungjin just nodded like he understood to save him from trying to explain.

“Thanks for handling it, Hyung,” Dowoon said.

Sungjin nodded, humming through a mouthful of food.

“Well, hey, I’ve seen you guys,” Younghyun said, “I should return the favor. Why don’t you guys come by, check out the crowd and see me dance?”

Jae laughed at the thought.

“What,” Younghyun asked, throwing a napkin at him. “We’re good!”

“I’ll decide that,” Jae answered with a nod.

They finished eating, getting along like they’d been friends for years, and they all helped Younghyun clean up before sitting down to practice. And the practice was smooth.

It was more than just playing with Jae. Playing with Dowoon on drums (even if it was just pots and spoons right now) and Sungjin on guitar was great. Younghyun filled out their basslines with improv. Jae had a great voice, but so did Sungjin. And so did Younghyun.

Younghyun picked up on their songs quickly. Their styles meshed well, and the music only sounded more filled out with a good bassline and better vocal harmonies.

But soon it was time to stop, time to find out how good a dancer Younghyun was. They went to the club together and grabbed drinks and a table while Younghyun went to meet his group backstage. The tables were small and high, more suited for a couple’s date than a group of men, but they crowded around it so they had a good view of the stage when Younghyun came on in a bit.

Sungjin took a long drink before setting it down on the table with a finality. “Jaehyung-ssi,” he said with a laugh, “I have to admit I was skeptical but you were right, he’s really good.”

“Isn’t he?” Jae shouted. “It’s like our band was just waiting for him!”

Sungjin laughed.

Wonpil pointed to the stage. “Look, Younghyun-ssi is coming on.”

They cheered loudly for him. He tried to hide an embarrassed smile.

The music came in loud and fast, and they started dancing. It was exciting and fun, and they spent the night in the club, shouting over the music and trying to dance, enjoying the company, forgetting about the past and the future for just a few hours.

Jae went home with Younghyun that night. Sungjin had a little too much to drink and fell asleep starfished across the bed as soon as they got back to the hotel. Dowoon and Wonpil sat up on the small bed in the small hotel room with the tv on, volume low so they wouldn’t wake their hyung.

The show wasn’t really holding either of their attentions. It was just quiet background noise to keep them from talking to each other, to keep their minds on something as they wound down from their night out. But Wonpil couldn’t keep from thinking. And if he couldn’t keep from thinking, he couldn’t really keep from speaking, either.

“Dowoonie,” Wonpil began hesitantly, “you know Sungjin-hyung told me about why you two left your hometown?”

“Did he?” He sounded disinterested.

“Did you ever make up with your parents?”

He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. “He told you about that, too?”

“I’m sorry.” The sudden realization that he’d been too invasive, that he’d been prying hit him. This was a sensitive subject and he was recklessly tackling it.

Dowoon had been leaning back against the wall, but he sat up and turned to face Wonpil instead of the tv. “I… did call them,” he said slowly, with some difficulty. “I told them about what happened, too, about how Hyung looked out for me. They still aren’t happy, but they feel better knowing he’s looking out for me.”

“Would they have let you come home?”

“They offered.” He looked down at his hands, drumming his fingers against his ankles, crossed in front of him on the bed. “They offered to let me stay with them, even said I could play drums if I wanted to. But they didn’t apologize for kicking me out or saying that I was wasting my time. Even if they knew they were wrong, they didn’t say it.”

Wonpil nodded slowly instead of saying anything. He knew and understood just how Dowoon felt. The resentment you tried to swallow, the disappointment for not standing up for yourself, the helplessness… he knew it all.

Was that why he wanted so badly to be with them? For them to succeed? He admired and envied them—they knew what they wanted, and they chased it with everything they had, while he let people push him into their dreams and aspirations for him. Was he living vicariously through their success?

Did it matter?

He realized, sitting there, talking in a shitty hotel with a friend he’d made through chance, that he was having the time of his life. And he realized that he knew, for the first time, that he didn’t want to go home.

While Younghyun finished up with his group, discussing practices and routines and making jokes, Jae sat at the bar and waited for him. Once he was finished, Younghyun picked him up and they went back to his apartment together, happy and giddy.

Younghyun held the door open for Jae, keeping pace with him easily since he was walking slowly, despite the height difference. There were few people on the streets at this time of night, and they were talking loudly and carelessly. “What did you think?” he asked.

“I liked the band version of Dance Dance more,” Jae said with a laugh.

Younghyun laughed too.

“Did you write the song?”

“I mean, I arranged it so I could play on guitar.”

Jae nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Younghyun couldn’t tell if he was just thinking very hard or if he was drunk from the drinks.

“Is it fun?”

“What?”

“Dancing and stuff. I mean it looks fun. But you looked happier playing guitar and singing.”

Younghyun sighed, trying to contain any sort of emotion he was feeling. (Was it anger? Resentment?) “Hyung…”

“I’m just saying.”

“I like where I am, really,” he said, nodding his head to punctuate his statement. (Who was he trying to convince, he wondered?) “You know, I can still study and go to school with this job. The guys in my group are nice. I can still work on music a bit.”

“You keep calling it a job though.”

“That’s what it is, Hyung.” He was fighting not to raise his voice. Was Jae always like this, or had alcohol given him an excuse to say everything he’d been thinking?

“Nah, bro.” Jae shook his head, cocking it a little. Younghyun scoffed, thinking he made a mistake with this whole thing. But it was only temporary and--… Jae continued, “No, you love music, don’t you? I can see it. You loved playing up there.”

“I’m not saying that I didn’t!” he argued.

“You aren’t doing what you wanna do right now though, are you? Look, if this is what you wanna do, you gotta take risks. You gotta do what you want to and you gotta mean it, Brian.”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Hyung, I…” he stammered, “look, I have a good job right now. I can pay to go to school. I’m in a good place right now. Why should I give that up?”

Jae shrugged. “I don’t know. Why should you?” He raised his arms before letting them drop. “Why do anything unless you really want it? If this is what you want—if we are what you want? I think it’d be worth it.”

“You’re going to Seoul, Hyung. Am I just supposed to leave my whole life here?”

He hummed quietly, grimacing as he thought. Jae wasn’t angry, wasn’t riled like Younghyun was. “I guess not. I guess I just thought what were the chances that we met like this, right? That we needed a bassist and here you were, and that we mesh so well. I thought it was something, you know? I thought something brought us together.”

He wondered what it could have been that brought them together. Was it fate? Was it God?

Younghyun sighed again. Jae didn’t seem to notice.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped in. Jae followed him in. “Help yourself to anything. I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Hey, Brian.”

He turned around, pausing in the doorway of his room.

“No hard feelings man, really. I’m not tryna make you leave your life. It’ll be fun while it lasts.”

Younghyun leaned on the doorframe. He watched Jae settle onto the sofa. “It will,” he agreed in Korean. His world was shaken again, as it was sometimes, when he was fed up with his boss or his job, or music he’d written was turned down, or something like that. He didn’t want to run away, no, but the possibility was stronger than ever and that was frightening.

“We cool?” Jae asked hopefully with a cute smile.

The look made him laugh. “Yeah,” he said, “we’re cool.”

Chapter Text

The next day was filled with the boys practicing furiously. Younghyun was picking up on their songs fast, but everybody was good at giving notes. Everything was going smoothly, improving quickly. They sounded good. They sounded like a real band, not like a few nights before when it was Younghyun by himself with a few backup people who kind of knew what they were doing.

No, they were a real group now.

The evening came quickly. Younghyun left early to meet his dance group, and the rest of them stopped by their hotel before heading to the venue for their gig. An excited anticipation was growing in their stomachs, but that feeling turned sour as soon as they saw the owner at the front of the club.

“Shit,” Dowoon muttered out loud.

Jae stopped a few paces ahead of the rest of them and turned to look at them. “What?” he asked with no inflection, laughing like he missed a joke.

Standing at the front of the club was the owner—a large, threatening looking man who’d claimed he just had his appendix out. The man Dowoon had had a run-in with a few nights earlier, that Sungjin had essentially threatened.

“Maybe he doesn’t remember?” Wonpil quipped hopefully.

“He doesn’t seem the type…”

“No, definitely not,” Sungjin agreed. He huffed and walked up to the entrance.

As predicted, the man remembered them, catching Sungjin in the chest with a heavy hand to stop him from entering. “Excuse me,” he said, “where do you think you’re going?”

“We have a gig,” Sungjin answered.

“At my club?”

Sungjin looked up at the man. “Yes. We signed a contract yesterday.”

“I don’t think so.”

He tried to swallow his anger. Tried to stay calm. This wasn’t like before, not like back home. But it was still unfair.

It was still unfair.

“Hyungnim--,” he began, his voice shaking with anger despite everything in him trying to swallow it, hold it back, “we auditioned with the other manager, we signed contracts, we have an agreement to play here tonight, and--…”

“It’s my club. And I say no.”

Sungjin opened his mouth, but Dowoon stepped in front of him.

He spoke fast, before Sungjin could say anything else. “Hyungnim, I’m so sorry for the other night. It was wrong of me. I was disrespectful.” He bowed deeply.

Sungjin’s fists clenched at his sides.

“Not good enough. Too little too late,” the man said, “get out of here or I’ll call security.”

Dowoon started again, “Hyungnim--…”

Sungjin grabbed Dowoon’s arm and pulled him upright before he could apologize again. “It’s not worth it,” Sungjin said. “It’s okay, Dowoon-ssi.”

“But Hyung…”

“If this Hyung wants to act like a child, wants to be unprofessional and break contract with musicians who would bring him money, then let him. We have other places we can play.”

“What did you say?”

“Seungyoon-hyung, was it?” Sungjin said, turning back to the man. He took care to move in front of Dowoon again. “You threatened this kid in the street late at night and now you’re breaking an already established contract for a personal reason? How lowly can you be? I’m glad we won’t be playing at a place like this, so we won’t have to deal with somebody as pigheaded as you.”

The man grabbed Sungjin by the shirt collar and Wonpil felt his heart jump to his throat.

“We’ll leave!” Wonpil shouted, pushing between them. “We’ll leave right now, okay?”

The man gradually let go of Sungjin, and Wonpil pulled him away before he could say anything else. The other two followed.

Once he’d cooled down, once they were out of the crowd entering the club, Sungjin pulled his arm out of Wonpil’s grip. He was a few paces ahead of the others, his hands still balled up into fists and shaking at his sides.

Dowoon took a deep breath. “Hyung, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said. Sungjin’s pace slowed, and he turned his head to listen. “This is my fault. I was stupid and I got you involved because you had to take care of me again.”

Sungjin stopped walking and turned around to the others. “Dowoon-ssi,” he began gently, “it’s okay. There are other places to play. This is unfair, but it isn’t like before.” He looked up at Jae. “And Jae-ssi,” he said, “you can still go play with Younghyun-ssi. You weren’t with us the other night.”

“No.” Jae shook his head with a laugh. “No, I’m with you guys. I’m all in. We’re in it together.”

He laughed—a short, mirthless laugh. But it felt good. “Let’s go back to the hotel for now, okay? We can find somewhere else to play.”

Sungjin caught Dowoon with a hand on the shoulder, and they started walking back.

Younghyun was sitting backstage, humming the melodies and practicing the fingerings of the songs he’d learned earlier.

“Hey, Seungyoon-hyung says we’re going on early.”

He opened his eyes, head snapping up to look at his friend. It was Jinhwan, one of his closest friends from his dance group.

“Why? Wasn’t the band supposed to go up first?”

Jinhwan shrugged. “He just told me to get everyone ready.”

He had a bad feeling and grabbed his phone out of his jacket pocket. No messages. He texted Jae furiously before Jinhwan rushed him into a changing room so they could get ready for their dance performance.

Wonpil followed the others slowly, letting his eyes wander to keep from thinking about how unfair this was, how he was just letting everything fall apart in front of him, just like he had at home. Was it going to end just like this?

It didn’t feel good.

He let out a sigh.

“Wonpil-ssi,” Sungjin called, turning around. They were at the corner already, waiting at a green light for him. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, yes. I’m fine.”

No, he thought. We can’t give up. Not like this.

He started to jog to catch up with them, but something caught his eye across the street. He stopped, almost slipping.

“Hyung?” Dowoon shouted.

“I have an idea!” He shouted back. “Please wait for me!”

And before they could protest, Wonpil ran across the street into a pawn shop.

Younghyun checked his phone one last time before he went on. Still no messages from Jae. (He wished he’d gotten Sungjin-hyung’s number. He seemed like a reliable hyung.)

“Younghyun-ah!” Jinhwan shouted.

“Sorry!” He tossed his phone back on his jacket, next to his bass before catching up with the group.

They went on. Bright lights. Screaming girls. A good beat, upbeat music, but no meaning other than some vague love song and tonight is the night. (He didn’t hate it, really, but it did get tiresome sometimes.)

It was fun. Really, it was fun.

But he couldn’t stop from worrying about the guys. Why didn’t they come?

He realized, halfway through the set, with a start, that his heart wasn’t in this at all. This wasn’t what he wanted. He almost missed a step and ran into Jinhwan next to him.

Wonpil checked his wallet.

Damn. Not enough.

His eyes scanned the instruments in front of him. His phone weighed heavy in his hands. Heavier still as he lifted it to ear, as it rung, and even more so when his father’s voice came through the receiver.

“Wonpil?”

His voice was the same. Still disdainful, still curt and strict. Had anything changed between them?

He swallowed hard. Summoned his courage. “Dad, I… I need you to unfreeze my account. I need to get my money.”

The reply was instant. Like he was expecting this. “You can come home and we can talk about that.”

“I’m not coming home,” he said. Wonpil knew how his father would react. He had a backup plan. “I’ve heard that things aren’t so good right now. I don’t want to hurt you and Mom, but… I need money. If I need to talk to reporters about everything, about you, I will.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“I believe in Soyeon-ssi and what she’s doing. I don’t want to come home, and I don’t want to run your business. But I don’t want to ruin it, either.”

“You know that’s impossible, son.”

He sighed. “I heard you aren’t so popular with the public… or the mayor… right now. I have… documents, Dad. Anything mildly incriminating, I have proof of it.”

His father’s silence spoke volumes about the position Wonpil was in and they both knew it.

“Just unfreeze my account and you won’t hear from me again, okay?”

“You would blackmail your own father?”

“I wish I didn’t have to.”

“How would I know you wouldn’t release the documents anyway?”

Wonpil sighed. When he looked out the window, Sungjin was looking at him like he was crazy. “You can take the chance that I wouldn’t if you don’t unfreeze it. Or you can trust that I won’t if you do,” Wonpil offered, gesturing a pleading look to Sungjin to please just wait a little bit longer while he sorted this out, he would fix everything. He added, looking back at the cajon, the keyboard in front of him, “you didn’t raise a liar, Dad.”

Jinhwan caught Younghyun by the shoulder backstage. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Younghyun looked past him, to his phone, unblinking on his pile of things. He sighed, defeated. They really weren’t coming, were they? Did they ditch him, just like that? After all that talk about fate and God and how it was meant to be?

It really was nothing permanent. Only temporary.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine.”

Jinhwan looked at him seriously, leaning down to look at him. “You sure? You said you were supposed to go on with that band, right?”

“Whatever, Hyung. It’s fine.” He nodded, forced his way past his friend and out the room to change before he had to talk about it anymore.

Disappointment and anger hit him like a wall. He was going to head straight home, spend some time alone and sleep or eat or something, try not to think about it, but he stopped at the bar instead. It was harder than usual to avoid his members, and everybody kept coming up to him to ask if he was okay. (It was getting annoying—they kept noting how he missed a step here or there. Actually…) why weren’t there more people here? Weren’t there usually?

He downed his drink before stepping away from the bar, excusing himself from the conversation his members were trying to have with him.

Seungyoon hyung was standing close to the door.

When Younghyun got closer, he could hear a fast guitar over the sound of the club’s music.

Warning! Warning!

You gotta stop, you gotta stop, you gotta stop now!

Shit.

Younghyun felt his heart jump to his throat.

“Hyungnim,” Younghyun greeted eagerly, trying to see through a window, the door, anything. He got a short, curt nod in response. “What happened to the band that was supposed to play earlier?” he asked, trying not too seem to eager, too interested.

He looked down at Younghyun. It was not a happy look, and Younghyun instinctively took a step back.

“Those fuckers are stealing my crowd.”

Younghyun pushed past him.

Jae and Sungjin were across the street, playing and singing as loud as they could. Dowoon was sitting on a cajon, playing. Wonpil was behind them, harmonizing, taking the spot that Younghyun had created, but adding a synth and keyboard.

He tried to swallow the heart in his throat.

“Why aren’t they here?” Younghyun asked, watching girls he’d recognized from the club gather around the street performers, throwing money into the open guitar cases as Jae and Sungjin sang and screamed their angry hearts out. “What did you say to them?”

“Those disrespectful kids aren’t playing in my club,” Seungyoon spat. “And they aren’t stealing my crowd. I’m calling the cops.”

“Don’t you dare! They aren’t doing anything—they’re just playing music. Just let them, it’s fine,” he begged.

Seungyoon raised a brow. “This is the band you brought to audition, huh?” he said with a scoff. “What are you gonna do? You can have five minutes to get them to leave, or I call the police.”

Younghyun sighed, exasperated, looking between his new friends and his boss. “I’m not doing that, Hyung. They aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I’m calling the police,” he announced, turning back into the club.

He felt his hands tighten around the straps on his own guitar’s case, suddenly aware of how heavy it was, how rough the straps were in his palms. “You would call the police on your own employee?” He shouted before Seungyoon was too far.

Seungyoon turned back to him.

Younghyun took a step back, towards the street, towards the band.

“If you go join them, consider yourself fired from this club. You’ll never work here again.”

He took a deep breath, staring down his boss, the two different conflicting musics pounding in his ears.

I can’t stop myself, it’s too late

My head tells me not to go,

But this body won’t listen to me

I fell for you without even realizing it

He turned around and ran across the street.

When Wonpil came out of the pawn shop with a cajon, they were speechless. The speakers and amps almost made them cry, even Sungjin gave Wonpil a (very short) hug as he announced his plan to go play in front of the club. They were gonna show Seungyoon what he was missing.

The keyboard and stand threw them a little.

“You play piano?” Sungjin asked.

“My parents made me learn,” he explained shyly.

“We coulda had a keyboardist this whole time!” Jae shouted. “You were holding out on us!”

“Well, I didn’t think--…” he stuttered.

“Let’s go!” Jae interrupted, grabbing what he could. Dowoon and Sungjin and Wonpil grabbed the rest and they started back to the club.

It didn’t take long to set up. People already started to gather around, just curious to see what was going on.

“Should I call Brian?” Jae asked as they finished.

Sungjin shook his head. “Wonpil-ssi,” he said instead, “can you sing Younghyun-ssi’s parts?”

Wonpil nodded.

“I mean, are you sure?” Jae asked.

“Except for the English,” he corrected with a laugh. He knew that wasn’t what Jae was asking, but he didn’t have time to explain himself.

It was over once they started playing. People redirected from the club to stop and listen to them play. They played Warning first.

And oh, God, it was worth it to see the look on that bastard club owner’s face. He was furious and Sungjin reveled in it. But like hell he would ruin Younghyun’s life for this. He wasn’t going to do that to someone again.

But it felt good to play, to sing, to shout out his anger at the club owner who’d denied them. This was closure.

Sungjin turned around as they finished the song. “Should we play Shoot Me next?” he asked.

But everybody was looking past him, behind him.

Younghyun’s voice rang behind him. “You would do that song without my vocals?”

He turned around to look at him, smiling, unpacking his bass guitar and slinging it around his neck.

“Younghyun-ssi, you shouldn’t…”

“Brian! It wouldn’t be the same without you, bro.”

“What can I say?” he said, smiling. “Let’s do this.”

And they did. The five of them, together, across the street from the club that had simultaneously wronged them and brought them together. They played their hearts out, singing out everything that had ever bothered them, knowing that everything that had ever gone wrong was just bringing them to this moment.

Chapter Text

When Sungjin woke up the next morning, he could barely believe that the night before had happened.

But his fingers hurt for the first time in a long time. His throat felt dry and scratchy. He had a little headache (probably from dehydration, since it was sometimes hard to drink water during a show), and his ears were pounding. And next to him was Dowoon and Wonpil. On the other bed was Jae, and Younghyun, who’d spent the night in their hotel room after playing with them.

More than anything, he felt happy.

This was the best he’d felt since he left home. Playing with these four guys was the best experience he’d had in a long time. If they wanted to do this, they could do it. He knew that now. He could feel it.

If they were going to do it, he had a lot to prepare, though. And some things he had to straighten out.

Wonpil woke up when the door closed.

Both Sungjin and Dowoon were gone. Jae and Younghyun were still asleep on the other bed.

He rubbed his eyes and stretched widely, spread across the bed. He sighed audibly but quietly, conscious of the two hyungs sleeping in the bed next to him. Wonpil stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen next. What would happen here, with the band?

When he sat up, he saw the cajon, and the keyboard, the speakers and everything he’d bought last night. His account was still unfrozen.

Sungjin-hyung had given him an equal cut of the money from the street performance last night. It was the most honestly earned money he’d felt he’d ever gotten. And it made him happy for an entirely different reason.

“You have a good voice,” they had said last night.

His heart fluttered just thinking of it.

They wanted him to keep playing with them, teased him, asking why he hadn’t played with them before.

And why hadn’t he?

He thought it was a useless hobby. He thought he wasn’t good.

That’s what his dad had said, why he’d quit before. His dad hadn’t wanted him to pursue it, so he didn’t.

And what would happen at home, with his family?

He’d threatened his father, his family’s livelihood, for his friends. For a band. For money.

The thought of it made him feel slimy.

This wasn’t how he wanted things to end. Not between his family. He didn’t want to go home though, even if he was just running away from his problems. He knew he was. Last night he almost faced them, but instead he threatened his father and stopped before a conversation even started. He couldn’t talk to them like this. He would go back in a few weeks, months maybe, when he could talk to them. But not now.

Now he would take a shower. He would take a shower and go out for coffee and he would call Soyeon and see how things were going since he’d interfered.

Yes, that’s what he would do.

The hotel room was empty when he woke up.

“Where did everybody go?” he asked out loud.

Not even a note or nothing.

Jae scratched his head and fixed his hair. Brian was probably at home, right? Since he was done with school for the semester. He could go bother him.

He changed his clothes and was out the door in a matter of minutes. Jae navigated the city easily, nimbly dodging between crowds of people as he walked towards Younghyun’s apartment. He fumbled for his phone on the way, but Younghyun didn’t pick up. It didn’t even ring.

It said his phone was off. Weird.

Boy was probably sleeping, he figured. But when he got to the apartment, nobody answered, no matter how big a racket he made.

Dowoon sleepily settled into the passenger side of Sungjin’s truck, leaning against the window with his eyes closed as Sungjin finished talking to the mechanic and paid for whatever it was he was having done to it.

He didn’t know why he had to come, anyway. Sungjin hyung just woke him up this morning while everybody else got to sleep and told him to come along with him. When he heard the door open, felt the car shift, he opened his eyes to watch Sungjin climb into the driver’s seat.

It’d been a long time since it was just the two of them.

“Mind if we run a few errands?” he asked, turning the key in the ignition. The truck turned on with a purr. Sungjin bowed and waved through the window before pulling out of the garage.

Dowoon shook his head and watched the scenery go by as Sungjin drove to the store.

Surprisingly, Sungjin talked most of the time.

“I figure we can head out today. This afternoon. We’ll have to quickly get things together and check out of the hotel, but it should be alright. Do you think everybody’s still sleeping? I’d rather get going sooner rather than later…” he was saying.

Dowoon was only half listening as they wandered aisles of the store, Sungjin grabbing enough food and water for all of them.

“Hey,” he said, “are you alright?”

Dowoon nodded. “But we didn’t make any money here. Will we be okay when we get to Seoul?”

“We made money. Or did you forget last night?”

“You know what I mean.”

Sungjin laughed. “Stop pouting. We’ll be okay,” he said. He paid for the groceries, handing Dowoon a bag or two to carry. They loaded them in the truck and got back in and started back to the hotel. “I think between the four of us—five, if Younghyun-ssi joins us—we can find something good.”

Dowoon’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

But Sungjin just smiled—he smiled like he knew all along what Dowoon’s reaction would be, like he knew how surprised and happy he would be.

“Hyung…” Dowoon stammered, “but I thought you didn’t want to go with everyone? I thought you already had an apartment… and, and… you told Jae-hyung that we’d split when we got there… and Wonpilie-hyung…”

He laughed. “There are other apartments.”

It took all he had to keep his breathing even. Dowoon looked out the front window, out at the street, to keep from being overwhelmed. “So we can all play together?”

“It’s been good, hasn’t it?”

He nodded.

Sungjin reached over and rubbed his shoulder. “Dowoon-ssi,” he said, “I wanted to say I’m sorry to you. I’m sorry about before, about messing things up for you and not taking responsibility for it. I’m sorry for getting us into trouble all the time and getting you and everybody else involved. Thank you for sticking by me through all of it.”

Dowoon felt his heart swell so big he could feel it in his throat and his eyes. He tried to blink it back to keep from crying. “Of course I would,” he said, trying to sound like it was no big deal even though it was, even though this confession meant the world to him, even though his voice sounded like it was about to break underneath the weight of what Sungjin just told him.

Sungjin smiled and pretended not to notice as he drove back to the hotel. “I’m glad you came with me. There’s nobody else I’d rather have on drums.”

Jae walked back to the club. He tried calling Brian a couple more times, but he never answered. There was no sign of the angry boss, so Jae got in easy. It was close to empty at this time of day. He waved at the bartender before heading towards the back.

He got lucky. He was in a dressing room—lined with lockers and a bench in the middle, and fancy dance outfits on a moveable clothing rack. Jinhwan was in front of a locker, dumping everything from it into a box.

“Hyung,” he greeted.

Jinhwan looked at him like he just almost recognized him, and couldn’t quite place him.

“We met before, I play guitar. I’m Younghyun’s friend,” he explained.

“Ah!” Jinhwan gasped. He clapped a hand on Jae’s arm. “Sorry! Nice to see you again. What’s up? What are you doing here? If Seungyoon-hyung sees you, you’re dead.”

Jae waved his hands. It was midday. He wasn’t super worried about a guy like that being out right now. (But was he around? ‘Cause if he was around, he needed to, like, scram…) “I was looking for Brian. Have you seen him?”

“Younghyun?” He inhaled and crossed his arms as he sighed. “He called earlier, but…”

“What’s wrong?” Jae asked.

“Well, he asked me to clean out his locker and hold on to his check until he got back.”

“Wait—hold up--,” Jae stammered. He was getting frustrated and was losing hold of his Korean. He tried to calm down. “Did you say ‘got back’?”

“Yeah.” Jinhwan sat down on the bench and looked up at Jae. “He said he was going to stay with a friend somewhere to try and work on something.”

“What…” Jae’s mind was working overtime as he tried to process this.

Jinhwan offered him a seat next to him, and Jae took it. He tried to explain it gently, “I mean, he lost his job. He’s on break from school. I guess he went to find something new.”

Jae nodded that he understood the words so Jinhwan wouldn’t politely try to explain it further. “I just… I thought he’d want to come with us?”

“I don’t think he expected you to come looking for him,” he offered.

 “Is that his locker?” Jae scoffed.

Jinhwan nodded. “He told me to tell you good luck if I saw you, so… Good luck.”

“Thanks, Hyung.” Jae stood up. So that was it. No explanation. Not even a note.

 “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too… Thanks, anyway.” He sighed, waving to Jinhwan as he left, and he headed slowly back to the hotel.

“What did you do?” Soyeon’s voice crackled through the receiver on his phone.

Wonpil set his drink down on the table before sliding into the chair comfortably. “Why?” he asked tentatively. “Did something happen?”

“Last night… your dad called a meeting and made a public statement.”

He almost stood up from shock. Instead he felt his back and shoulders tense, tried hard to keep his hands from drumming on the table in front of him. (It was a nervous habit—his parents were always trying to get him to kick it.) “What happened? What did he say?”

When she spoke, it was quietly. “He’s halting the reconstruction project.”

And what did he feel, he wondered?

Was it relief that it was over? Anger—that this was all it took? Was he worried that now he would have to go back home? That he no longer had an excuse? He didn’t know. It was everything and nothing in the middle of his chest and he tried not to feel it.

“What does this mean?” he asked.

“He’s considering giving up his position as CEO and retiring.”

He hadn’t realized she wasn’t finished.

She continued, “he publicly apologized to you, Wonpil-ssi.”

“What?” It came out stuttered—a whimper. “That… I…”

“I don’t know what your family will do if he leaves his job, but… this is a good thing.”

He had to wonder if it was. But he agreed anyway. “I’m glad your protests worked.”

“It was all thanks to you again,” she said with a laugh. “Are you okay?”

“He wants me to come home, doesn’t he?”

She was quiet for a moment before answering. “Probably so.”

He was thinking, considering, when she called his name again to pull him out of it.

“Wonpil-ssi?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I have to go. Thanks for the update.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m just… so glad your protests worked… I’m so glad… I have to go. I’m sorry.” He quickly ended the call, and slowly moved his head down on to the table.

He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to play music with them, go to Seoul with them.

But if his family needed him… He ran away because he was being forced, because he didn’t agree with his father. But if there was a chance at reconciliation? If he could have saved the city and his family? If they could sit down and actually talk? He didn’t have any excuses to not go home anymore.

He didn’t know what to do now.

Waking up felt like a dream.

Jae was next to him, sound asleep, mumbling in English a little.

The light in the hotel was dim, with a bright stripe shining in through the break of the curtains, illuminating just a small section of the room. The air was slow moving, and Younghyun could see dust in the sunlight.

He wanted to lay there forever, in a trancelike state that kept him from thinking of anything else but how surreal and good last night and this moment felt.

But with one deep breath, Younghyun stretched and sat up, grabbing his phone.

Seungyoon hyung had texted to remind him that he was fired from his job at the club. And Jinhwan hyung had called a couple times without leaving a message.

If this was fate, it felt an awful lot like his world was falling apart.

Younghyun looked over again at Jae, peacefully asleep. Then over at Wonpil, comfortably spread out across the bed by himself. Dowoon and Sungjin must have gone out somewhere, but he had no idea where.

He got up from the bed as gently as he could and grabbed his guitar case. He stepped outside into the warm morning air. Around him, the world was still turning. People below him were still walking or driving to work, still going on with their lives, unaware of how his had changed.

Younghyun walked back to his apartment, each step he took, feeling the concrete beneath his feet, the sunshine on his hair, reminding him that this was real.

He was now unemployed and had no way to pay for his apartment.

He’d given up a well-paying, steady, and fun job for a temporary arrangement with a couple guys he barely knew who were probably leaving for Seoul in a few days, if not sooner.

That temporary arrangement was the single most enjoyable thing in his life lately.

But the fact remained that they didn’t call him last night—they were prepared to play that set without him, leave behind any promises, any sweet talk of fate behind when it wasn’t convenient anymore.

And he didn’t know how to deal with that.

It hit him hard when he stepped back into his apartment. The sheets Jae had used were folded up on the sofa messily, like he’d fully intended to use them again, and was only setting them out of the way for now, when he came back to spend the night later. Pots and pans Dowoon and Wonpil had decided not to use were set on the floor or the counterspace, and a few cabinets were slightly ajar. All his musical equipment was out of its normal spot—evidence that somebody else had been here, existing in the space that he’d occupied on his own, in a private, daydreaming bubble that he might be a singer-songwriter someday—evidence that there was possibility in his grasp, for a night. But, for some reason, it had slipped away.

Younghyun inhaled a shaky breath.

Jae had told him if he really wanted something, he had to do it like he meant it. He had to try for it. So he would.

He exhaled, calmed himself—nodding, as he made a decision.

He packed up a backpack of his things, slung his guitar and his bass over his other shoulder and left his apartment with a plan.

Chapter Text

Leaving this town felt like a necessary regret. He knew that waiting any longer, calling just one more time, would do no good. Everybody else was waiting patiently, not rushing him, but he knew it was no use, so he got in the truck and told Sungjin to drive.

Jae sat in the back, quietly leaning against the body of the truck in his usual spot, watching the buildings get smaller and fewer and farther in-between, just hoping that maybe something would change.

“Younghyun-hyung isn’t coming?” Wonpil asked, his voice sounding like a guitar that had been strung a little too tight.

Jae shook his head without making eye contact. “Naw, he left town or something.”

He sighed.

“I know,” Jae said, knowing exactly what that sigh meant.

“Last night was perfect. We were perfect.”

Jae’s head fell. “I know,” he said again.

Wonpil pouted. “What will we do when we get to Seoul?”

Dowoon sat up quickly. Jae and Wonpil jumped, turning to look at him before they could say another thing. “Sungjin-hyung said we could all play together.”

“What?”

“He wants to play together. If you want to, I mean. He told me this morning.”

Jae visibly brightened. He leaned into the small window in the back windshield of the truck. “You changed your mind, Sungjin-ssi?”

Sungjin looked into the rearview mirror at him. “Huh?”

“You wanna be a band with us?”

“Ah,” he shouted, nodding. “If you still want to. I’m confident that we could do it together. Honestly, I was scared before. But… I’m confident now. We can do it.”

“What have I been saying?” Jae laughed, reaching through the window to pat him on the shoulder to punctuate how right he was. He perked up after that, visibly, but his mind was still wishing Younghyun was there with them.

What was it that made him leave? What kept him from coming with them? Weren’t they meant to be? Where was—…

“Younghyun-hyung!”

Jae’s head snapped up.

He was there.

Younghyun was there. Brian was there, in front of him, paused on the side on the road. Jae looked at him. And Younghyun looked back. Their eyes wide, staring at each other in surprise, each of them wondering what the chances were of running into each other here, just outside the city they were each leaving, for their own reasons, independently, wondering what it was that brought them together again. The moments their eyes were locked felt like forever before Jae remembered that they were moving.

“Sungjin! Stop! Stop the car!! Wait!! Hold on! Brian!!” He shouted frantically.

Wonpil and Dowoon had been a second too late. Before anyone could stop him, before the truck even stopped, and despite Wonpil and Dowoon grabbing to stop him, Jae jumped off the side of the truck bed.

“Did he jump out?” Sungjin yelled from the front, frantically looking between the road in front of him, the mirrors beside him, and over his shoulder behind him.

“Yes!!” They shouted together.

Jae ran to him and hugged him, almost knocking him over.

Sungjin pulled over as quickly (and safely) as he could. It gave Jae and Younghyun a few minutes alone as Sungjin leisurely made his way back towards them.

“Funny meeting you here,” Jae said, his tone a mix of accusation and amusement.

He searched for the words, looking between Jae in front of him and Sungjin approaching them. “I thought you’d be in town a little bit longer…” he said instead of explaining himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

Younghyun had a million things to say, but he kept them to himself. “Hyung…”

Jae pushed him lightly in the shoulder, waiting for an answer. His brows furrowed under Dowoon’s hat, and Younghyun could see how hurt he was. He took a deep breath. “I’m not… leaving-leaving,” he tried to explain, “just for the summer, until school starts again. I’m staying with a friend. He lives somewhere out here.”

“You didn’t want to come with us?”

“I…”

“Younghyun-ssi,” Sungjin greeted, nodding, bowing. They reached across the space between them and shook hands. “Need a ride?”

Before going to meet Younghyun again, Sungjin paused by the side of the truck. “Should I go over there?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes, ask him to come with us!” Wonpil shouted, shoving him towards them.

Sungjin chuckled, not protesting the push, and started towards Jae and Younghyun.

Dowoon and Wonpil stayed in their spots, sitting in the back of the truck, watching the other three as they met and talked, too far away for them to hear.

“Will we be okay?” Wonpil asked, keeping his eyes on the others.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Dowoon said without inflection. He leaned into the corner of the truck bed with his legs bent, resting his arms in front of him.

Things had gotten considerably more crowded as they added people and equipment to the space, but Dowoon seemed at home between the cajon and lockup storage. When they first set out on the road, Dowoon was lying in the back by himself without speaking to Sungjin. They must have been arguing still, Wonpil figured, when he heard about it.

But now Dowoon chose to sit in the back, so he could talk to everybody else, so he could make sure all the equipment stayed put, safely nestled between the three of them.

Wonpil felt guilt weighing down his heart, tugging on heartstrings and arteries and whatever else it was that connected his emotions to other people. He kept his eyes on the other three without seeing them when he confessed, “my dad apologized to me.”

After a moment of silence, he answered, “oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t.” The response came quickly, genuinely. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad he did.”

Wonpil took a deep breath and grew the courage to look over at Dowoon, looking thoughtful.

“Will he apologize to Sungjin-hyung too?” he asked.

Dowoon laughed before Wonpil realized it was a joke. When his mind caught up, he let out a relieved, wispy laugh. He was relieved to have told him—and more relieved that they could joke about it.

“Do you want to go back home?” Dowoon asked. No malice, no jealousy, just a serious curiosity and concern about what was next for them as friends, as a band.

Wonpil shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. Should I?”

His eyes strayed, just for a second, to look at Sungjin. Then he looked back at Wonpil and prayed he hadn’t noticed. He said, “I can’t say whether you should or not. Sungjin-hyung told me before not to burn my bridges.” He paused here to scoff at the ironic advice. “I mean, if you can fix things with your parents, you know, you should.”

“You said your parents never apologized to you…” Wonpil was saying. Dowoon nodded in confirmation. “If they had, would you have gone home?”

This time, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. Even if I did, it wouldn’t have lasted long. I want to play drums, and I’m going to, no matter what. I’m not against making up with them or talking to them…” Dowoon rubbed his arms as he rambled, getting nervous and flustered the more he talked.

“I wouldn’t be able to play with you guys if I went home.”

Dowoon shrugged. “You do what you have to do, Hyung.”

“What about what I want to do?” he asked, his voice raising. “All my life I’ve been doing what I need to do. I did what’s expected of me. Being here with you guys felt so… freeing. It felt good. I felt like I could be myself around everyone. I want to help my parents, but…” he cocked his head.

“I would miss you if you left,” Dowoon said. He reached over and pat him on the shoulder. “Wonpil-hyung is a good person.”

He cracked a shy smile at the compliment.

Before they could continue the conversation, Sungjin was coming back to the truck.

“What’s going on?”

“Is he coming?”

He slid into the front without a word.

Jae climbed into the back after him.

“He isn’t coming?” Wonpil asked.

“Nah,” Jae answered, taking his seat on the side of the bed, looking back at what could have been.

His heart felt like it would explode when he heard Wonpil’s voice shout for him, when he saw Jae running out to meet him. He wasn’t prepared for this. How could he ever explain why he was leaving? And why did he feel like he owed it to them?

Before he could fully answer Jae for leaving, for not leaving with them specifically, Sungjin (thankfully) interrupted. “Need a ride?” he asked simply, no strings attached to the offer.

“No, thank you, Hyung,” he said, shaking his head.

“Where are you headed to?”

Younghyun rubbed the back of his neck. “My friend Sewoon lives out here somewhere. He agreed to help me out. Get out there with… my own music,” he answered. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the last confession, the leap of faith he was taking.

Sungjin was looking at him with a smile and sparkling eyes. “Good! I’m happy for you. That will be good,” he was saying, nodding as he did.

Jae looked over at him, theatrically shocked at the betrayal. “Don’t you want him to come with us?”

“Of course. If he wants to.”

Younghyun’s heart ached. He felt the butterflies fall to the bottom of his stomach.

Jae looked at him. “Do you want to?”

“Hyung, I don’t… I don’t know,” he stuttered, waving his hands in front of him.

He cocked his head, his brows furrowed again.

“Look, no offense, I barely know you guys,” he stammered. “I mean, I have a life here. How can I just leave that behind?”

Sungjin put a hand on Jae’s arm to stop him from saying anything. “You don’t have to,” he said before Jae could open his mouth. “But the offer is there, if you ever want it.”

He pulled out his phone and they exchanged numbers. This was somewhat soothing to Younghyun. It wasn’t a commitment. It was an option.

“If you’re ever in Seoul, you can hit us up. We’ll try to fit you in after we hit it big,” Sungjin said with a laugh as he put his phone away.

Younghyun cracked a smile. “Oh, is that how it is?”

Jae was looking like he hadn’t heard the joke. “Last chance, Brian,” he said hopefully.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Jae sighed. Sungjin grabbed his arm as he turned around, and they both went to the truck.

Younghyun watched them pile in and drive away, matching Jae’s gaze the whole time, wondering why the butterflies felt more like a hole than excitement.

The gravity in the truck felt heavier after that. They didn’t speak to each other much, except to ask for water or a snack.

Dowoon tried to lighten the mood, occasionally. “There will be other good bassists in Seoul,” he would say.

“I know,” Jae answered.

He did know. That wasn’t a lie. But he felt it in his heart, in his soul that Younghyun should be here with them.

Sungjin shouted from the front. “I’m sorry, Jae-ssi.”

Jae leaved over so he wouldn’t have to yell.

Sungjin spoke bluntly, but it was always kind and honest and genuine. As he spoke, his voice was steady, with a soft smile on his face as he looked forward, down the long, straight road ahead of him. “I don’t want Younghyun-ssi leaving his life behind if he doesn’t want to. You know how hard this life can be. You and I chose it. Wonpil-ssi chose it. I didn’t mean to force Dowoon-ssi into something like this, and I don’t want to do that to somebody else again,” he explained.

“What? I chose it too, you know, Hyung,” he chastised with a laugh.

Sungjin laughed, his eyes crinkling.

Jae nodded. “I know, I understand. I don’t disagree with you. I thought he wanted to play with us, that’s all. I’m just kinda disappointed.”

“I know.”

“At least we have a keyboardist,” he said, reaching over to pat Wonpil on the leg. He heaved a sigh as he sat back, smiling.

“Right?” Dowoon said, raising his brows at Wonpil. The way he said it was a statement, but Wonpil knew it was more of a question.

Wonpil cracked a smile—a wide smile that showed all his teeth and gums and made his eyes wrinkle. “Right,” he said finally.

The heavy air settled into a comfortable silence as they drove down the country road, the speed giving them a comfortable breeze on the hot summer day. Dowoon was leaning his head against the glass of the window, lulling off to sleep, while Jae and Wonpil looked endlessly around, enjoying the green and yellow of the scenery. They were disappointed, but they were coming to terms with that disappointment, and they knew they would be okay. The drive was peaceful and calm.

Until—“shit, shit,” followed by the stutter and sputtering of the engine. The car stalled hard enough to almost send Jae over the side of the truck. “Shit—please, damn it,” Sungjin continued, barely getting the car to the side of the road before it stopped moving completely.

“What happened?” Jae asked, wide eyed, bracing himself on the side of the truck in case it surged again.

“I… don’t know…” he answered slowly.

He tried restarting the car, but only got a sputtering clicking in response. The three in the back exchanged worried glances as Sungjin pulled his keys out of the ignition and popped the hood of the truck.

Wonpil knew next to nothing about cars, but because he’d been working at an engineering firm, they demanded he look at the car.

His search brought up nothing, of course.

Dowoon was scolding Sungjin from a safe distance at the back of the car. “Didn’t you just take it to the shop, Hyung? Didn’t you just get it fixed?”

Sungjin paused to glare around the hood and threaten to throw a wrench at him.

Jae went to quell his anger and try to do what he could to help, their voices becoming a veil of sound behind the metal hood and still air. Wonpil joined Dowoon at the back, hopping up onto the side as Dowoon stood next to him, leaning against the truck.

Dowoon side eyed him. “So… we have a keyboardist?” he asked slyly.

Wonpil laughed. “I’m with you guys.”

“You’re with us?” he echoed, slapping Wonpil’s leg. “You made up your mind?”

He wrung his fingers in his lap, swinging his legs. “Sungjin-hyung,” he said. “He said I chose this life. You know? I think he was right.”

Dowoon turned so he was facing Wonpil, leaning on his arms.

“And I won’t choose to go back home. At least not now. Sungjin-hyung and Jae-hyung and you all welcomed me right away. I felt accepted so easily,” he looked down at his fidgeting hands and consciously stopped them to smooth out his pants. “I would have to fight to be myself at home. Why would I do that, when I have you guys?”

Dowoon smiled at him, nodding. “I always thought, too, whether my family was with me or not… I had people who were. That’s what was important to me.”

They were stuck in the middle of nowhere with the sun beating down on them, but he was responsible for bringing himself here. He couldn’t blame anybody else for that. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’d felt relieved as they drove away.

The look on Jae’s face made him feel sorry, like he was missing out on something, like he was hurting a dear friend. But he couldn’t do it—he couldn’t commit to them.

Just the thought of taking that leap of faith was terrifying to him. What if he got in that truck and they went to Seoul and they didn’t get along, and nothing worked out, and he regretted leaving here? Coming back would feel impossible too.

But what if he’d gotten in that truck and went to Seoul with them and everything worked out?

Honestly, that thought was just as terrifying.

So when they drove away, Younghyun was relieved. That was the end of it. He’d made his decision and he could put all of this behind him, finally.

He walked down the country road, breathing the fresh air deeply, running his hands along overgrown grass and feeling the sunshine on his skin. This was the feeling of freedom and carelessness. It was a feeling he’d missed for a long time now.

How long did he walk before fate gave him another chance?

The same red truck came into his sight, stopped on the side of the road with the hood up. Younghyun approached it curiously.

Dowoon and Wonpil were perched on the side of the truck, while Jae was sitting on the back. They were too annoyed to greet him with enthusiasm, but gave him a nod or a short “hey,” when they saw he’d caught up to them.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Jae gestured to the hood. “Sungjin broke the truck,” he answered.

Younghyun sighed, seeing how pathetic they all looked. He set his guitar and his bag down. “Let me take a look,” he mumbled. He went around to the front, where Sungjin was bent over with a furrowed brow and a wrench, looking more confused than frustrated. He bent over and grabbed a pair of gloves from the toolbox and slid them over his hands.

“You can drive it, but you can’t fix it?” he teased with a smirk.

Sungjin scoffed to cover a laugh as he stood up straight to stretch his back. “I can fix it,” he bluffed.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he teased back, nodding.

They bent over and got back to work.

“When was the last time you got this thing checked?” he asked, examining the engine.

“In town. Why?”

“Oh no.” Younghyun stood up, eyes wide as he looked at Sungjin. “Did you go to that place down the street from the club?”

His eyes shook. “Yeah. Why?” he asked, urgency edging in his voice.

“They have a bad reputation…”

“Are you serious?” Sungjin asked, exasperated. He sighed in defeat. “Ah, of course… I was trying to be safe and it ended up like this… Do you know what they did to it?”

Younghyun laughed as he leaned over. “How unlucky. I heard they usually do something they can easily reverse so that when you take it back, they can charge you again. It shouldn’t be too hard to fix.”

He covered his face as he leaned forward in despair. “They charged me so much, too.”

A chuckle escaped Younghyun again as Sungjin took a break to wallow in his crisis. When he finally pulled himself out of it, Younghyun directed that he should check the underside of the engine while he was down there. Sungjin slid underneath without care for his clothes.

“Hey, Hyung…” he began.

Sungjin grunted in response.

“That night at the club…” This was the perfect time to talk. He wouldn’t have to see Sungjin’s face while he was down underneath the car. “Why didn’t you call me to play with you guys?”

“Ah.”

Younghyun braced himself.

Sungjin pulled himself out from beneath the vehicle and looked straight up at him. “Was it bothering you?”

He lost all his courage. He lied, “no.”

Sungjin chuckled. He saw right through it.

“I’m sorry,” he explained as he sat up. Younghyun lent him a hand and pulled him up. “I knew you would get into trouble if you played with us and I didn’t want to be the reason for that. I didn’t want you to risk your livelihood for a group of strangers.”

“But I came anyway.”

Sungjin nodded. “I didn’t want to put you in a difficult situation. I’d done that with Dowoon-ssi and Wonpil-ssi before. I didn’t want to do it again, but… then you came anyway. I was… surprised. And grateful. And happy that you did.”

“You didn’t think I would play with you?”

Something in him hurt—his throat? His heart? He wasn’t sure why.

Sungjin paused to think. Finally he answered, “I don’t know. I didn’t know if it was worth it to you.”

“Hyung…”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he reiterated. He leaned back down to look at the engine again, anything he might have missed. “I didn’t want to force you into a decision. My old band kicked me out after I tried to help Dowoon-ssi. I know I caused trouble for them, and I think in the end it was the right choice… but I felt let down and everything felt so unfair back then. I didn’t have a choice. Dowoon-ssi didn’t have a choice because of me, either. I didn’t want anybody else to feel like that.”

“You think they made the right choice?”

He shrugged. “It hurts to think so. But I think I’m on the right path now.”

“What about the people walking with you? Aren’t you afraid you’re making a mistake? You barely know these guys better than I do.”

“I’m terrified about all of it.” Sungjin laughed. “But I trust them. I believe in them. And I trust myself. If I’m wrong now, I know I did what I could to do my best.”

Younghyun was jealous. There were other feelings floating around in his stomach, but he recognized jealousy the easiest. But the negative emotions were quickly and easily replaced by excitement when he took another look at the engine.

“I think that’s it,” he announced.

Jae and Dowoon came around the side, buzzing like bees. “Really?”

“Try to start it,” he said to Sungjin.

He slid into the front seat and turned the key in the ignition. It stuttered for a second before finally turning over.

Jae cheered and hugged Younghyun in his excitement.

Sungjin hopped out and slammed the hood closed. “Thanks for your help, Younghyun-ssi.”

Excitement faded again into something else (regret, he wondered?) when they looked at each other, recognizing a crossroads. Sungjin didn’t say anything, but shook his hand and nodded his head. Younghyun knew that this meant that the choice was his—it had always been.

He shook his head slightly, and Sungjin got back into the truck.

The others had clambered into the back when the car was started. Younghyun subconsciously noted how tight the space was as he said his goodbyes.

“Brian!” Jae shouted, leaning over the side to grab his hand. “Are you sure?”

The car started to move, slowly.

He waved them on. “I’m sure,” he shouted back. “I’ll catch you around.”

No hard feelings, right? He thought.

Younghyun and Jae looked at each other as the truck started to pick up speed.

Surprisngly, Jae was the one to break eye contact.

Younghyun swallowed hard, watching the truck.

No hard feelings, right, he told himself. It was temporary. It was all just temporary.

The thought occurred to him: what if it wasn’t?

Twice they’d met on this nameless country road. He’d felt compelled to give up everything—everything—for them. And he met them here, again, after leaving what little he had left behind. He lost everything on a gamble. In one night in a fit of passion. For a chance. A dream. For them.

What if it was God? What if it was fate?

God—fate—destiny—whatever the name. Meeting them was never meant to be temporary. It was always meant to bring them together.

 “Wait!” he shouted.

He was afraid. He was terrified.

But he wasn’t the only one.

“Wait!!” he shouted again, and started running. He chased them.

The three in the back hadn’t heard him over the sound of the wind.

It was chance (luck? Fate?) that Sungjin saw him in the rearview. That he slowed down, that he stopped, and Younghyun caught up with them.

He tossed his guitar to the guys in the back.

“I’m coming with you!” he shouted, climbing into the unlocked passenger side door. Panting, “I’m coming with you.”

He heard cheers from the back. He saw smiles, felt hands patting him and squeezing him in makeshift hugs. He rested his head against the window of the truck, his eyes closed, his heart racing but at ease finally, after everything.

This was it. This was where he was meant to be, he thought. This was where they were all meant to be. Where they all wanted to be. The five of them, together, on the road to becoming a band together, on the road to Seoul.