Chapter Text
Jihoon feared the day his parents would finally get rid of him for the summer, if only to have a little time for themselves. And the year has come— but he didn’t expect them to spend so much money to make it happen.
The thing is: Jihoon likes music. A lot. Like, I haven’t slept in 48 hours but I wrote this sweet song kind of a lot. His parents know this and in fact have encouraged it in him since he could hold an instrument.
He’s taken piano lessons for as long as he can remember, but he thinks that’s just his parents being his parents since he never asked for them. He picked up basic guitar and ukulele while he was at it, something he he truly did enjoy.
The chorus teachers have always loved him, too, and he started singing in primary school. They called him a prodigy, sometimes, said he could be a wonder if he worked at it.
By now, music is kind of his thing. He takes a music theory class and carries a notebook with him to write lyrics. That’s how people know him: the music kid. He’s okay with that since it has never been a problem and he gets to do what he loves.
Jihoon’s parents have wanted to drop him off at a summer camp for years, and his constant pleading about his anxiety and wanting to stay was the only thing that kept him at home. But this year, with a camp like this and his unbudging parentals, there wasn’t much of a choice.
The thing is: it’s a music camp — but not just any music camp. It’s the music camp. The one everyone wants to go to if they want to improve and gain recognition. Two and a half months of clinicians, showcases, and projects, all within a beautiful campground, limited to around one hundred older highschoolers chosen through submitted auditions. (Don’t worry, it’s only a couple of thousands of dollars.)
You could say it’s kind of a big deal.
Jihoon literally screamed when he received his admission confirmation, loud enough for the neighbors to hear and come by to ask if they needed to call someone. He has no idea how two crappily recorded covers of Corduroy Dreams and Boys Will Be Bugs on his ukulele and a one-minute outtake of a Korean ballad he sings in the shower got him accepted, but— is he really going to complain?
The first thing he did was call Seungcheol, an aspiring rapper and his best friend of around eighteen years (also known as his entire life). He also applied, and also got in, and they screamed together before getting Junhui on the call too. Junhui, a dancer and Jihoon’s second best friend of about six months, screamed with them both because he got in too.
About a month later, his parents dump him in front of the drop off spot with his suitcase, wishing him a happy summer and to call them if he needs anything and that they won’t really miss him.
That brings him to now as he shakes from his nerves, rolling his suitcase and clutching his little pillow with anxious hands. His ukelele is slung over his shoulder, the painted case gaining more peoples’ attention than he would like. A lot of the other students around him chat with each other, but no one approaches him, and he’s honestly fine with that.
Seungcheol has yet to show himself, but knowing him, he’s probably making friends without him. Junhui could be anywhere and appear at any second, which unnerves him the most about this situation. He does it without realizing and always scares jihoon with how elusive he is.
“‘Hoonie!”
Speak of the Devil.
Jihoon instinctively cringes as a tall, heavy force collides into his side, crushing him in a hug and causing him to trip over his suitcase. Cursing obscenely, Jihoon yells at Junhui to mind the instrument and shoves him away.
Junhui is all limbs and stupid smiles, brown hair brushed back so everyone can see that pretty face of his. There’s a reason he wins all of his dance competitions, and it’s because he’s the best, but that will never stop his charm from being an advantage.
Off of the stage, Jun is a sweet kind of dumb. He’s incredibly smart and crushes Jihoon in anything academic; he’s just incredibly sensitive and perceptive to other people’s feelings. He’s really good at telling Jihoon things about himself that even he hasn’t figured out yet. At the same time, he’s endearing and always zones out and makes cute noises and pokes Jihoon who really doesn’t mind at all.
“Jihoon, aren’t you glad to see me?” Junhui prods, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
“If by ‘happy’ you mean ‘irritated’ I’m ecstatic .” Of course, there’s no real bite to his words. There never has been. Jun knows this and takes it in stride.
“Can you even believe we’re here?” Junhui grins. “I’ve wanted to come to this camp since I was little.”
Jihoon can’t. It’s surreal. He heard of the program a long time ago but never thought of it as something he could do; not because of money, but because of his capability. Kids all over the country submitted auditions, kids who have teachers and are vocally trained. But Jihoon, the choir kid with a ukulele, made it.
Junhui has been involved with competition dance since primary school and plays the piano. Seungcheol writes his own lyrics and practices hours on end, producing his own music. Jihoon just likes to sing.
But he’s not going to complain. If this place can help him grow further than he already has, then he’ll take it.
Jihoon chuckles, “It’s unbelievable, really. Shit— I’m terrified.”
“Not allowed!” the other immediately protests. “You have the voice of an angel. Except, you’re not really an angel, so more like— uhm —”
“Angel works.”
“Ah, it doesn’t.”
As the taller pats his soft pink hair, Jihoon glares at Junhui’s tennis shoes. Maybe he’s right, and not just about the angel part. Maybe his voice is really good enough for this.
He’s here, isn’t he?
The buses arrive without either Jun or Jihoon seeing Seungcheol. The counselors come out and they’re wearing matching pink shirts that really should be added to the bonfire, but they start organizing everyone before Jihoon can deliver his vicious commentary on their attire.
With two to a seat and Seungcheol nowhere in sight, Junhui clings to Jihoon’s arm and they become busmates. For the lengthy ride, Jihoon brings on his pillow and ukulele.
The ukulele is more of a security thing, but his pillow is not only precious to him but also holding his necessities in the case. That means most of the ride is spent asleep with his headphones in, instrument tucked between his knees and lyrics notebook in his lap.
Jun shakes him awake when they arrive. The ride is less smooth and Jihoon can see why based on where they are— or, rather, where they aren’t .
The campground is remote, although Jihoon never bothered to see how close they are to a town. At the least, there manages to be minimal cell service, enough to call his parents should something arise.
Before they arrive at the drop off there’s nothing but trees, glimpses of a lake and a mountainside in between. Suddenly the first thing he wants to do is swim. He packed a pair of swimming trunks, right?
But soon the buses stop and they’re tossed into the heat of summer again. Jihoon’s skin itches from the temperature and he feels gross all over. It doesn’t help that he’ll feel like this for the next two months, but he’s trying to not think about that. Left to pull at his t-shirt, he only hopes that cabin arrangements will be quick.
Somewhere along the way, Jun goes missing. Trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible, Jihoon grabs his suitcase from the bus compartment and moves with the crowd towards registration tables.
So far, he feels really alone, and it’s scary. People are looking at him, his cursed pink hair that stands out and his pastel clothing and painted instrument case. He set himself up for this.
Fuck.
Registration is efficient enough and soon Jihoon is standing outside of the dining hall with a map of the campground, hoping the path to the cabins is paved.
He rolls his suitcase through a small parking lot until he reaches the first cabin just off a gravel trail. Jihoon sighs and picks up his bag. He’s not weak or anything, just lazy.
The gravel trail goes up a nasty hill, another thing that Jihoon pettily despises. According to the map, there are twenty-five cabins, including counselor cabins.
They’re all spaced apart fairly well, many tucked behind a row of trees and into the forest, little paths leading to the front porches. The assigned numbered sign is at the front of each entrance path. From a distance, they seem rather spacious. It’s good that they’re not cramped.
Unfortunately, Jihoon’s cabin assignment is that of number thirteen. He’s going to take that as a bad omen.
Before he knows it, he’s standing in front of the cabin door with his suitcase, hand hovering over the doorknob as he listens worriedly to the commotion from inside.
Four other boys are assigned to this cabin, and from the sound of it, all of them have already arrived. Loud laughter seeps from the walls, remnants of a joke Jihoon didn’t get to hear.
He yanks open the door, stumbling inside with his things. There’s a kitchenette and a large table next to his left, and a larger living space to his right.
Across from the kitchen is the bedroom with two bunk beds, neither of which have been settled yet. The living room is a large, long space with a high ceiling and a wall made of windows, probably useful for large group camps that would need the space. There are two couches in the corner where not only is the rest of his roommates’ things but his roommates themselves.
Seungcheol has sprawled himself over Junhui’s legs without a care in the world. He looks better than when Jihoon saw him last which was finals week. A grim time. His shirt is almost as sickeningly pink as that of the counselors, but it’s more pastel and it works for some reason.
Across from them on the second couch, a tall boy with thin-framed glasses sits with his things. Even though it’s summer, he’s still wearing long sleeves underneath his t-shirt. He’s laughing at whatever Seungcheol said just now, and when he laughs his eyes squeeze shut and his nose scrunches in a way Jihoon knows Seungcheol finds cute.
Behind him is another one, dressed in a loud sweatshirt and yellow beanie. In response to the joke, he throws his whole body towards the other stranger. Everything about him seems carefree; his laugh, his smile, his style. Jihoon likes him already.
Jihoon stands, looking between them until someone notices him. Seungcheol is the first, cursing from surprise and rolling off the couch in excitement. Junhui winces but brightens when he sees that he’s here.
“Hey! Jihoon!” Seungcheol pounces on Jihoon despite the warning about the instrument on his back, but Jihoon’s happy enough to see him that it doesn’t bother him. He actually hugs him back.
There isn’t a moment in Jihoon’s life when he didn’t know who Seungcheol was. Their parents are close friends, so it only makes sense for them to have known each other since they were in diapers. They’re like brothers but born two months apart to two different families.
Junhui knows this and chooses to whine anyway, “How come I didn’t get a hug?”
“‘Cause you’re fucking annoy—”
“ Langua —”
“Haha, we love you Junnie!”
Once the group settles down, Jihoon meets the others in his cabin. The one with glasses humbly introduces himself as Jeon Wonwoo, resident nerd. When asked a moment later what he’s here for, he surprisingly answers with the rapping program.
The other one introduces himself as Vernon Chwe, not Choi; he’s also a rapper. “Nice hair,” he says, and Jihoon probably blushes when he thanks him for the compliment.
Sadly, there are no other singers in the cabin, which means that Jihoon won’t know anyone when going into activities. So that’s… fun. At least his cabin is cool.
“So,” Jihoon starts with a smile. “I’d love to take a nap before dinner, so should we settle beds?”
“Ah, yeah, that’s the problem,” Seungcheol says, immediately slipping into a leadership position. “There are four beds and the couches. But, there are five of us. I tried looking for some cots in the closet but it wasn’t very productive. Someone has to sleep on the couch.”
Jun grimaces, “For two months? Gross.”
“If none of us want to sleep on the couch, someone’s going to have to share a bed,” Wonwoo observes.
Now, Jihoon has been on enough school retreats to know that teenage boys— especially the straight ones— will never share a bed with another guy. He once had a roommate who slept on the floor before he slept next to Jihoon, so it’s bold of Wonwoo to suggest that. Unless—
Immature, Seungcheol snickers. “That’s gay.”
But there’s not a lot of laughter that goes around and no one is surprised when Junhui takes a poll of the cabin. “Wait, how many of us are actually gay?”
Seungcheol quickly raises his hand, Junhui following. Seeing them, Wonwoo reluctantly raises his as well.
Fuck it, Jihoon decides, “I’m bi, but like— mostly gay.”
Everyone turns to Vernon, who shakes his head. “I don’t know, man.”
“Who are you into?” Wonwoo asks earnestly.
“Anyone who will take me,” Vernon deadpans. Seungcheol snorts.
“Mood,” Jihoon agrees, trying to restrain his bits of laughter. This is going well, better than he hoped, and it feels nice. He really doesn’t mind sharing a cabin with these losers for the summer; it doesn’t feel so lonely.
In the end, Seungcheol is the one to sling his arm around Jihoon and announce that they’ll be sharing a bottom bunk together, citing that “I’ve known this kid since before I could talk, so it’s fine,” before dragging him off to put their stuff away.
The others duke it out without many problems. Vernon gets the bed above Jihoon’s, Wonwoo on the bottom across from them and Junhui on the top.
Jihoon is the first to find the bathroom with two showers and a counter of sinks, so he’s also the first to claim a sink (the middle one, of course).
And then Jihoon takes a nap.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Dinner is called rather late, around seven o’clock. Seungcheol wakes him half an hour early, ruffling his short hair and worsening his bedhead. It takes another fifteen minutes for everyone to get ready again and for Jihoon to wake up completely.
After slipping on their shoes, cabin thirteen joins the mass of other campers headed towards the hall. Jihoon forces Junhui to carry him on his back down the hill, but the dancer makes him get down once they reach the parking lot. They go past the parking lot and further on to the hall.
Before the food is served, everyone has to sit at the long tables and listen to orientation. Cabin thirteen sits with each other, along with a few other guys at the edge of their group that start chatting with Wonwoo and Vernon. Sandwiched between his friends, Jihoon doesn’t get to meet them before a counselor gets on the stage at one end of the hall with a microphone.
She doesn’t introduce herself but congratulates them on their acceptance. “Your presence here is no small achievement,” she says. “There’s a lot of talent in this room.”
And of course, everyone applauds when she finishes talking about the prestige and how lucky and talented they are. Jihoon claps along despite the little knot in his stomach.
“Dinner will be served shortly, but I’d like to go over a few things first. To start— after dinner, no one is to leave the hall until the room is clean. Don’t make a mess you can’t clean. This will be enforced. You’re not kids— act like it. Second— curfews are sundown, and the only exception is night activities. Everyone is to be in the cabin area after dark for safety. Quiet time in the cabins is officially ten o’clock. No one is to leave their cabin after midnight unless looking for one of us…”
She goes on about a few other rules— swim at your own risk, office locations, etc. And then she gets into activities, how they’ll be announced every morning for each class and weekly printouts will be available to take. During their free time, other optional camp things will take place— things like fishing, archery, and knot tying.
She also mentions that the first night activity of the summer will be in the dining hall, a kind of meet-and-greet for everyone to get to know each other. They’ll have extra lemonade and cookies, which peaks a lot of interest, along with plenty of music. It sounds like a party Jihoon will be persuaded to stay for.
“Tomorrow morning is very special, too! Breakfast is served from six-thirty to eight, and afterward, we’ll have a premiere showcase for the summer for individual acts!” The dining hall erupts into cheers. “It’s not required, signups are after dinner!“
They’ll want to hear his voice. Jihoon’s blood runs cold.
She finally lets them eat and for dinner, they all have chicken wraps and lemonade.
Seungcheol sits on Jihoon’s right and Wonwoo on his left. Wonwoo is actually really tall and Jihoon feels tiny next to his new friends. Even the ones he hasn’t met yet sitting across from him are tall and it’s disgusting.
To avoid talking, Jihoon shoves a chicken wrap in his mouth and sulks, feeling weird all over. Even with Seungcheol and Wonwoo, two people he likes, he’s nervous.
It’s nothing new and he realizes that, but there’s a lot going on so his hands start fidgeting and his leg bounces and he refuses to make eye contact with the boy sitting across from him. It’s the anxiety he gets when he meets new people which he doesn’t like doing unless it’s necessary.
Like a good friend, Seungcheol can tell that Jihoon’s struggling a bit and places a hand on his knee. The singer holds it whenever his hand is free because Seungcheol’s is rather comforting to squeeze.
Wonwoo is talking with the guy across from him about the showcase. Apparently, he’s here for the rapping program too, and he wants to perform his audition song in the morning. And that’s fine until Wonwoo nudges Jihoon.
“Are you going to do something tomorrow, ‘Hoonie?” he asks.
Jihoon serves himself another piece of chicken and takes a sip of lemonade. “Don’t call me ‘Hoonie,” he says passively. “And I don’t know yet.” Hopefully not.
Wonwoo’s friend speaks up, “Maybe you should.”
He wouldn’t have known that that’s not the best thing for him to say, but it grates on Jihoon nonetheless. Maybe he’s a little angrier when he’s scared. Maybe that explains why his jaw clenches and his grip on Seungcheol’s hand tightens to the point where he’s hissing through his teeth.
He doesn’t want to do anything, but he knows Jun or Seungcheol will sign him up for it anyway, and that’s for them to do and not this tall little shit in front of him. Jihoon doesn’t want to do anything, not really— but how dare anyone but his closest friends suggest otherwise?
Just as Jihoon opens his mouth to say something damaging, Seungcheol cuts in, fighting through the pain currently crushing his fingers. “Ah, M-Mingyu, don’t push him. Stage jitters a-and all—”
It turns out Wonwoo is a good person because he quickly catches on. “It’s fine if you don’t, I’m just curious.”
“It’s fine,” Jihoon assures him, genuinely unconcerned with Wonwoo. He’s a good friend. Unfortunately, his tone towards ‘Mingyu’ is bitter. “You didn’t say anything wrong.”
Seungcheol laughs too loudly.
Mingyu stares at Jihoon, confused and evidently a little hurt, but Jihoon’s not in the best state of mind to give him a lot of sympathy.
He’s got a pretty face— soft angles and a square jaw. It’s the kind that belongs in a magazine. Jihoon can admit that Mingyu is kind of cute, and he isn’t happy about it.
Even though Mingyu is confused, Wonwoo and Seungcheol desperately veer the conversation away from the showcase. Seungcheol even gets up to bring the pink haired singer another cup of lemonade. Everything goes fine for the rest of dinner.
Jihoon shoves another chicken wrap in his mouth out of spite.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
This feels reminiscent of Jihoon’s first homecoming dance.
The disco lights, colorful patterns against the dark walls of the dining hall; the loud music, a thumping baseline and a rowdy crowd inducing a minor headache; the snack table, laden with cookies. everything is similar to the school gym back in freshman year when Jihoon went to the homecoming dance for the first and last time in high school.
There was a pretty girl who had a crush on him and asked him out, so he took her to the dance. She was nice, genuine, and they had fun at the dance, but as tiny teenagers, it was all weird to Jihoon. He knew it was just a dance.
It looks and feels and sounds like that dance, except there’s no pretty girl holding onto his arm, and there are a lot more good dancers in the crowd.
The “meet-and-greet” started off slowly, but it picked up into a pleasant party. In the middle of the room, a large crowd dances to the music, singing with the words and laughing at one another.
Junhui is surely among them. He tried to pull Jihoon into dancing, but he isn’t up for that tonight.
In fact, all of his cabin-mates disappeared in one way or another. He didn’t miss the tint in Seungcheol’s cheeks when he said he was going to talk with Wonwoo at the snack table. Jihoon… isn’t really sure where Vernon is.
Away from the chaos, Jihoon stands alone near the others lingering by the wall with their friends. He’s not having a terrible time, actually. When he doesn’t feel very in the moment , standing to the side is enjoyable. Besides, he needed time to cool off.
It’s really not so bad.
He grows tired as time goes on, though. Not wanting to take any of his cabin-mates away from the party, he drifts closer to the commotion in hopes that it might wake him up some more.
It doesn’t help much, at first, but that changes when a larger figure plows into him on accident, a tangled mess of flying limbs.
Although Jihoon can’t bring himself to be mad, he shoves the boy off nonetheless. Instead of ignoring him and walking away, the stranger turns around and apologizes profusely.
That’s when they get a good look at each other.
He stands a few inches taller than him, around Seungcheol’s height. The stranger has bleached blond hair, squishable cheeks, and bright eyes. He’s pretty.
It only takes one glance at Jihoon’s pink hair and small frame for his face to light up. “Oh my God , you’re so tiny !” he coos over the music, shameless. “Are you even sixteen— cute. ”
The stranger pounces on him, squeezing him as if he’s an adorable plushie. “What are you doing just standing here?”
“Hey! Get off of me! I don’t want to dance! And I’m not a baby, I’m eighteen !”
He lets go but immediately pouts at him. It’s cute. Fuck, it’s really cute. “Same! Well, almost. But you should dance, it’s fun! It’ll take your mind off things, won’t it?”
“I doubt it,” Jihoon grimaces. “I might as well just leave.”
He punches his shoulder lightly. Jihoon rubs the spot. “Well, why don’t you?”
“My friends are here. And… my cabin is far.”
“Tell me about!” he grins. He sticks out his hand, “Kwon Soonyoung, dancer, cabin seventeen. You?”
“Uhm…” Jihoon takes his hand, shaking it slightly. “Lee Jihoon, singer, cabin thirteen. Nice to meet you?”
“Why the question?” Soonyoung ruffles his hair as if he’s five. “I’m always nice to meet!”
Jihoon barely realizes it when he laughs at Soonyoung, and that’s when he decides that he should really stop meeting cute people. It’s dangerous for his heart, which is now beating faster than before because— even if he’s known him for two minutes— Soonyoung is acting like an angel and it’s not fair .
Soonyoung looks at him adoringly, but the moment passes when a hand other than Jihoon’s encircles the blond’s wrist and begins to pull him away. Someone different is smiling at him, telling him to Come on before the last cookies are gone!
“See you later, Jihoon!” Soonyoung laughs, quick and bright, before disappearing, waving at him.
Jihoon can’t breathe in the best way possible.
What the fuck just happened?
Stuck in an elated kind of shock, Jihoon meanders away from the crowd and to the sides. In doing so, he finds a door leading to a balcony.
There’s only one person outside, and Jihoon closes the door quietly. It’s a lot cooler at night, and it’s relieving to get some fresh air.
He releases a content sigh, thinking of Soonyoung, wondering if it’s going well for Seungcheol. Maybe he should have gotten more lemonade before he came out?
The person leaning over the balcony turns around and Jihoon really shouldn’t be surprised to see that it’s Mingyu.
“Oh.”
He said that out loud, didn’t he?
“Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you, I thought it was empty out here…” In truth, Jihoon didn’t even know this place existed until now, but it’s not like Mingyu knows that.
“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures him. He’s acting nice, even after Jihoon was rude to him. What’s with him?
Turns out Mingyu isn’t just tall but at least six feet tall and— just like before— it’s absolutely disgusting. His smile is grossly cute too, how he has no problems forgiving him. Jihoon wants to scowl, but he’s not really angry.
“What’s your name again?” Mingyu asks.
Jihoon’s getting tired of all the introductions, but he holds out his hand like Soonyoung did, “Lee Jihoon, singer, cabin thirteen.”
Taken aback, Mingyu tilts his head. Nevertheless, he shakes his hand. “Kim Mingyu, rapper, cabin seventeen.”
Of course they’re from the same cabin, of course. All the annoyingly pretty boys have to come from cabin seventeen.
“It’s nice to meet you,” the taller adds, expecting a similar reply.
But Jihoon is petty and spiteful. “Yeah.”
“Listen, I know we apparently got off on the wrong foot, but I know we can be friends.”
Even if Jihoon doesn’t say anything, he moves closer to the balcony and closer to Mingyu. It’s dark outside and the stars are really visible out here, but he doesn’t watch them for long and instead notices the field behind the dining hall, framed by a line of trees.
Jihoon doesn’t want to agree with Mingyu, but a part of him doesn’t want to apologize either, so he just stands there, feeling unrightfully small next to him.
They stay like that long enough for the song to change from inside. Jihoon wishes he brought some lemonade out.
Then Seungcheol opens the back door. “Jihoon! There you are! Come on, the cabin’s assembling to leave.”
Jihoon tries to apologize, looking at Mingyu but not quite in his eyes, “I have to go—“
But Seungcheol grabs his arm and pulls him inside before he can say goodbye.