Work Text:
A barely audiable click of lock on his studio door, a sound he would have surely missed, if it wasn't for momentary scilence ringing in his studio. He was just replaying the still raw track he's been working on for past few hours, growing slightly frustrated. Although the release date of their next album wasn't definitely set yet, let alone revealed into the public, there was still the nagging sense of pressure constantly in the back of his mind, always reminding about high expectations for their work. Namjoon hit pause on the recording board and run a hand over his face. God he was tired. When he last looked up from the monitor, there were warm, orange sun rays seeping through the blinds of his studio. Now as he shot a glance at the window, his eyes were met with darkness, which told him it was at least 11pm as it was the middle of the summer and days were the longest. Somwhere in the deep corner of consciousness, rational, responsible part of him knew he shouldn't work this late, that maybe, just maybe, this much was enough to call it a productive day. But that part of him was quickly overshadowed by doubt and insecurity. It would never be enough, it whispered in hideous, dark murmour he knew all to well. No matter how much you work it won't be perfect. There will always be people who judge without trying to understand. And that was the worst part of being an artist.
Click
Namjoon was startled from his thoughts and spun around in his comfortable chair, to see the door to his studio creak slightly open, as if a person on the other side suddenly hesitated. The artificial light from the hall fell on the floor of the room and a silhouette slipped through a gap of an open door and clinged to the door frame in a indignified way that reminded Namjoon of a drowsy cat, that was thrown out of the house in the early morning because it scratched the couch at night when everyone was asleep.
-Hey Yoongi hyung, what are you doing here? - Namjoon squinted, trying to take in more details of his hyungs face, but the backlight streaming through the open door on which Yoongi was still leaning, cast a deep shadow on him. As he studied him, he could tell that the way he was holding himself spoke volumes. He was clearly exhausted.
Yoongi siged and finally detached himself from the door frame and padded softly to the worn-out albeit still very comfortable couch in the back of the Rkive Studio, and all but slumped on soft leather cushions. He leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands, in a manner that indicated utter exhaustion.
-Im sorry for barging into your space like that, I needed to get out of my own studio before I gone fucking insane - he looked up from where his eyes where fixed on the spot on the floor between his feet, with a bitter, ironic look.
Namjoon already slid his heavy headphones from his head and turned fully to his bandmate and took in his apperance in dim light produced by desk lamp. He always left this one on as the only source of light other then his monitor. His optician suggested this, when Namjoon asked for extra blue light protection filter while getting his perscription glasses. He said that screen light shouldn't be the only one in the room. If it meant his eyes would stop feeling like someone had poured sand right into them every morning after pulling an allnighter in the studio, rapper was ready to try it, even if flicking a lamp on didn't feel like much.
Now, fully focused on Yoongi he tsked sympathetically. He knew his huyng could be just as passionate about music as he was. This was why Namjoon didn't even question why wasn't other producer back at the dorm at this late hour. He didn't have to, because their answers would be the same. Ever burning, white hot passion that sometimes seemed to be the only light in the darkness that threatened to overpower, consume. Because losing oneself in work was, no matter how exhausting, better then numbness that all those years ago made itself comfortable in the soul, reaching its claws a bit deeper everytime they let themselves to wallow in misery. So they worked, too anxious to lose themselves in the past. For most of the time it worked, keeping the dangers that came with too many nights when sleep was a blessing and shallow heartbeat the only thing that reminded them they were still alive. They would break sometimes of course. On those nights, there were bitten raw knuckes and hissed curses, shattered glass and slammed doors. Bitten lips twisted in hideous scowls and cynical eyes. Cold and distant, lost in madness. Never tears. The following morning there would be scilence, quiet apologies, luke-warm coffee drunk in seperate rooms, blank stares fixed on the empty walls. Feeling of dissociation for hours on end. Such days would always be worse than nights.
Namjoon looked from his seat at desk at Yoongi. He looks a mess, but also so so vulnerable that Namjoons heart actually aches . These moments of weakness being so rare, trigger something warm in Namjoons psyche, feeling of strong attachment and sense of responsibility for his hyung. It connects to a distant, hazy memory all those years back, when their ways crossed and-
don't
Namjoons mind snaps and he shakes off the feeling before it overwhelms him. Its not the time, the past is the past, now is the present, it is harmless.
- Hey, Namjoon? - elders quiet voice drifts to him - you okay? - Yoongi frowns at him, shifting on the couch, lying his legs stretched out comfortably. He must have regained some peace of mind, no longer looking as bewildered as he did upon entering the studio. He runs a hand through his freshly washed hair in a slightly anxious manner and continues, giving Namjoon time to collect himself.
- I was just trying to wrap up mixing of that one song we talked about at group meeting this wednesday but something in the bridge is off no matter how many sounds I try. Aish, its driving me nuts, otherwise the song sounds perfect to me but this bridge - he paused looking annoyed - It just won't sound right - he added quietly, his demeanour deflating. He curled on the couch, restless fingers playing with the fabric of his crumpled t-shirt.
Namjoon rested his chin on his hand and looked thoughtfully on his hyung. He assumed that Yoongi was talking about his solo work for the upcoming album, and he knew better than to disregard the others need for having the upper hand in his projects. He knew for a fact that the older producer prefered working independently, and attempts at overrulling his concepts, most often failed. It didn't mean however, that he didn't know how to take suggestions and constructive critism. He always valued other members insights on their work and was willing to take suggestions if they were approved by majority of the team.
Namjoon thought back to all those years they spent in an old, cramped studio creating music together, sharing ideas and hopes for future. Their company was at that point practically nonexistent in the music industry. It was only when their group started getting succesful, that they could afford separate studios. Having ones own space seemed like a great improvement back then, but it wasn't long before they became more distant, drowning in work in their now separate rooms, bearly having time and energy to talk during lunches they ate downtown in midday. Since they started working alone, sharing unfinished projects became occasional, mostly occuring during group meetings.
Namjoon bit his lip, thinking. Although they shared a close relationship that was a result of living together and sharing the passion, Namjoon didn’t want to pry into Yoongis working process. If the elder struggled to get some part of the song right, he could of course ask some other producers who worked with them on their albums. Younger rapper didn’t mind if that was prefered way of sorting out his hyungs song. Despite willing to let Yoongi decide whom to turn to, Namjoon was eager to listen to others work in progress and maybe suggest something that the older rapper hasn’t thought of yet. With that in mind Namjoon said in a soft tone, not meeting elders eyes.
- Hyung, I would love to help, if you don’t mind. These days im mostly free in the afternoon, because I wrapped up the recordings of my solo a week ago. Now im just waiting for the producers in our team to finish up the mixing, and mine will be good to go. If you’d like I could pop into your studio and help you a bit. That's of course if you are comfortable sharing your track with me at this point of production - he added quickly.
As Yoongi listened to him, shadow of insecurity flashed on his face and disappeared so quickly, that Namjoon could question himself whether he actually saw it. The emotion was soon replaced with neutral expression and Yoongis lips curled in a subtle, shy smile. Rapper looked at Namjoon, and there was trust in his eyes.
- Ah, of course you can come whenever you want. I'm in a meeting with the production team tomorrow at 11am though, and as you know, these tend to stretch for hours. We could grab some coffee after I'm finished there and head to my stu-
The last word was stifled by a yawn that broke from Yoongis lips. He rubbed his eyes willing some of the weariness away, frustrated at his body not complying.
- I should really go back to my room and try once more. I haven’t done much today. See you around - He stood abruptly, and made his way to the door, but Namjoon caught his hand and asked, looking in his hyungs once again anxious eyes
- Hyung I bet that you have been in your studio for more that 20 hours straight, and judging from your more than usual tiredness you haven’t slept in at least two days. Please be kind to yourself -H e said looking up, his eyes pleading his hyung to let himself feel like he has done enough, and rest for once. If he didn’t specifically voice his concern, Yoongi would surely go back to his studio, maybe stumble a little in the corridor and lock himself away for another day or so. Namjoon himself planned to stay at the company building for 2 more hours but seeing the state of the other rapper he quickly reevaluated the idea. Honestly, they were both drained, their work wouldn’t be effective anyways.
Yoongi hovered at the doorstep, considering listening to his friend. Deadline for submitting his track to the production team was in three days and he really wasn’t confident with how it currently sounded. He would be more at ease falling asleep knowing he had sorted the bridge out, but honestly he didn’t feel like going back to the stuffy studio right now. Namjoons workroom was pleasantly cooler than his own since the AC in Genius Lab broke two months ago and there was no one to bring up the issue on staff meetings. Yoongi usually skipped these, in favour of working, or grabbing some coffee that was less shitty than machines in their company building offered, which ment he had to go out on a 10 minutes long walk.
- Yeah, I guess it could wait until tomorrow - he said hesitantly, his voice tight. - lets go home.
- Thank you hyung - Namjoon breathed and rose from his chair all too ready to go home after a long day of intense work. He quickly saved the progress on his song, secured his computer with a password and shut the device of. Grabbing his jacket, he peeked at the clock. The electronic numbers stated 00:35 and Namjoon frowned at it. It was really late. Suddenly all the tension that accumulated during the day weighted on him and he felt bone-tired. He had half mind to just crash on his couch and pass out there, but the other half told him that his bed at the dorm was far more comfortable for his aching back, so he willed his feet to move towards the door, one hand reaching for the handle and other grabbing the sluggish Yoongi, who was leaning on the wall, almost nodding off while standing. Namjoon led them out of the room quickly locking his studio, not bothering to switch on the blinding overhead lights in the hallway. There were LED panels built into the walls on the floor level that iluminated the passage in dim cold light. Yoongi stopped briefly at his own room, dubble-checking the electronic lock on his door, and they were out of the building and on the still busy street of Seoul. Namjoon took a deep breath of humid, night smell that he so adored. It must have rained a while ago, because the street was glistering, and the world looked glassy and a bit blurry. Street lamps cast warm reflections on the pavement as they were walking as briskly as their tired limbs allowed them to. Two rappers fell into a comfortable scilence, both lost in the unique atmosphere of a warm, rainy summer night. Somwhere in the distance, quiet tones of a pop music filtered through the buzz of the city. A sweet melody with a rough edge to it, bitterness competing with hope, and in the midst of it lyrics reached their ears:
‚‚The dawn right before sunrise is the darkest.
When tomorrow comes, there will be a bright morning shining on you, so don’t you worry.
This is not a stop but a pause for a brief rest in your life.
Because the dawn right before sunrise is the darkest.
Don’t get to far away tomorrow.’’
The melody and lyrics gave off an air of urgency to deliver important message the song held. It demanded the listener to make an effort think about opportunities the future could offer. For two rappers who were clutching desperately to the present, the lyrics resonated strongely in their minds. A feeble flickering, light at the end of the tunnel that was their hope, grew a bit brighter. Both boys unconsciously straightened, their heads held a little bit higher as they wandered slowly away.
~ The end ~