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Their first gig was at the little diner that had the shitty neon sign, flickering uselessly in the dark and advertising its usual message "PARKING BEHIND. ENJOY YOUR STAY!". Its floor was always sticky and their countertops—at least the ones adjacent to the small, attached play area— were even worse. Probably because of the sleepy town's kids and their nasty habit of shoving their dirty fingers into anything and everything. The red vinyl stools were solid evidence of their decades-long battles against the youth of Jeno's hometown.
But the rips and old soda and condiment stains never stopped Jeno and his best friends, or anyone else in this town for that matter, from dropping their entire weight onto the squeaky old chairs and ordering the fast food they craved to eat the most.
Right now, it seemed that Jisung and Chenle were craving the diner's largest sundae, and using the last few wrinkly bills from the depths of Mark's beat-up leather wallet to pay for it. Jaemin raised an eyebrow at them and looked at Mark, who, from his walk to the bathroom, only yelled at them to get him a spoon too. Chenle told him to get his own and Jisung grabbed one for Mark anyways.
Renjun shoved past Jeno, angrily mumbling under his breath about how he always has to lug everything. Jeno held his guitar case tighter to his chest and trailed after him towards their makeshift stage in the back of the diner. Truly a prized spot, being smack in the middle of the restrooms and the jukebox that happened to break a week before and the diner's owner (Jaemin's godfather) was getting tired of the tens of complaints from his customers for being unable to play the same five songs the machine had.
Their band quickly set up their equipment, mostly hand-me-downs and the few things they were able to buy from the local music shop. The store’s boss and one of Mark’s many older college friends, Yuta, had shown him all of the brand new guitars he just stocked up only to belatedly recognize the sheepish grins they gave as Mark quietly whispered to him that they were broke. Yuta stood there for a beat and then gave them his brightest smile before he gently led them to the backroom, like a kind shepherd and his flock of nervous high school sheep, where he sold them his old equipment for cheap. Jeno’s pretty sure Jaemin damn near almost kissed the ground Yuta stood on when he gave him his old electric for basically free (only after a lot of cute begging and a whispered promise that Jeno doesn’t want to know what about). Jisung and Chenle got to pick out their favorite candy from the jar on Yuta’s desk. Jeno bought some extra picks while Mark lugged an amp into his truck bed. Renjun stared longingly at the sole grand piano Yuta had on display. All in all, the day went well and the ragtag group was many steps closer to being a real band.
And now with their first gig, they were about to debut as their little town’s second band (Yuta was part of the first).
Mark waved his spoon in front of Jeno’s face, snapping him out of his daze. “Yo, Earth to Jeno.”
Jeno blinked, “Yeah?”
“You’ve been standing here, not moving, for the past five minutes. Did something happen?”
“Oh no. ‘M just reminiscing.”
Mark sighed and smiled, as he slid next to Jeno to admire at their makeshift stage where Renjun and Jaemin had basically almost finished setting up and moved on to arguing over whether they should order a hamburger or a corndog to split. “Yeah. Can’t believe we made it this far huh? God, a year ago, I wouldn’t think this would’ve been possible.”
Jeno threw him a big smile, “Well, a year ago, you didn’t meet me.”
That drew a chuckle from the older, “You sayin’ that you’re my dreammaker?”
Jeno walked off to the stage to get ready and answered over his shoulder, “I was the one who brought the two brats in so that ASB couldn’t shut us down.”
Jisung made a noise of protest from the countertop, mouth stuffed full with ice cream. Chenle chirped out, “Don’t lump me in with Jisung!”
The youngest whined at the betrayal and slapped Chenle lightly on the shoulder, who just giggled and shoveled more ice cream into Jisung’s mouth.
Jeno unzipped his case and gently took out his beloved baby, a hand-me-down Fender bass guitar from his older brother, Doyoung, who unsurprisingly was also part of Yuta’s band (he spent a big chunk of his paycheck on it and got a huge lecture about responsible money-spending by their parents, only for them to immediately ask to try it out right after). It was a gorgeous black and white thing, with a sleek, glossy finish and a fuckton of personality. At least that’s what Doyoung said when he handed it to Jeno on his birthday last year. It had a few scratches which Jeno covered up with his own extensive collection of stickers (he’s very fond of the Spongebob one on the back that he actually stole from one of Jisung’s many sticker picture books he had when he was a toddler). Aside from the stickers, Jeno also customized his child a bit more when he added the most critical part of his self-made aesthetic: neon. He had wasted almost a month’s worth of allowance at the tape section at Daiso and bought a pretty big supply of neon tapes, which he immediately used to decorate all of his personal belongings. His guitar had a cute little emoticon that looked like him (in Renjun’s words) that he spent an hour carefully cutting bright green and placing, and then spent another two hours putting down a big “JENO” on the side because no matter how elementary it was to label your own territory with your name, Jeno wasn’t taking any risks. He doesn’t even let anyone else in the band, especially not Jisung and Chenle after they ate, touch his bass without his permission.
He set up quickly and as Jaemin’s godfather strolled over to switch the sign from ‘CLOSED’ to ‘OPEN’, everyone else rushed to get ready as well. Jaemin was still in the middle of chewing on his half of the corn dog he split with Renjun when a small trickle of people began flowing through the creaky metal doors. Jeno recognized one of his neighbors who took off his cap and waved hello. Jeno shyly waved back. The door swung open again and the sign made a loud clack against the wall before Doyoung and Yuta strolled in, the latter being behind the dramatic entrance. Behind them were a few other guys that Jeno vaguely recognized as more of Mark’s college buddies. He thinks it’s Johnny and Jaehyun and is quickly confirmed when Mark quickly hopped out from behind his mic to rush over and hug and thank them for coming.
Johnny whooped loudly, crushing Mark in his big bear hug and even lifting him a little bit off the ground. “Of course we’d come to your first gig, little buddy! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Mark blushed bright red and slapped Johnny’s back to let him down, “Let me down hyung. You’re embarrassing me.”
As soon as he was put back down, Yuta, Johnny, and Jaehyun swarmed him with head pats, handshakes, advice, and a wet, brotherly kiss on the cheek from Yuta.
Doyoung rolled his eyes and strolled over to Jeno who met him halfway with his own hug. “Hey Nono.”
“Hey hyung.”
“You nervous?”
“A little,” Jeno whispered into Doyoung’s shoulder.
Doyoung laughed and rubbed circles on Jeno’s back, “You’re going to kill it Jen. I believe in you. You know I always do. Plus, with my baby in your talented ass hands, you’re going to blow everyone away.”
“I hope so,” Jeno answered, voice still a little small and timid. He only lets himself be this vulnerable with two people in this world: 1) Mark when they’re either drunk or sleep deprived after a late night of scribbling lyrics and practicing, and 2) Doyoung.
Doyoung cupped Jeno’s cheeks, thumbs trying to force up the corners of Jeno’s lips into a smile, “C’mon bud. Smile for me.”
Jeno smiled weakly.
Doyoung tsked, “Stronger.”
Jeno made his smile bigger.
“With teeth.”
Jeno smiled with his teeth out, looking just as awkward as he did when his school’s photographer told him to smile with his teeth without his eyes crinkling into crescents for his ID picture.
“God, you look so stupid. My stupid little brother.”
And Jeno broke out of the awkward facade. He giggled and pulled himself out of Doyoung’s hold, a real smile on his face and a burst of confidence inside him, “Shut up. Go bother Jisung.”
Doyoung put his hands on his hips, “Where is that brat anyways?”
“Counter.”
Doyoung looked over Jeno’s shoulder and judging from his unimpressed expression, Jeno assumed that Jisung was doing something stupid again. Before he could turn to look, Doyoung dropped a hand on Jeno’s shoulder like he’s their dad whenever he’s about to give them a Talk, “Believe in yourself Jeno. You’re awesome. I love you.”
“Thank you hyung.”
Doyoung smiled back and brushed past him presumably to babysit Jisung and Chenle for the next hour or so (Jeno heard Chenle squawk out an excited, “Doyoung hyung! How many toothpicks do you think Jisung can fit up his nose? I bet six!”).
Jeno called Mark back to his spot and their hyungs reluctantly (and very dramatically) let him go. Mark smoothed down his hair as he stepped back into his place in the middle. He pulls his guitar over his head. “Some of my other hyungs are coming by later on.”
Jeno nodded, distracted by the one, stubborn lock of brown hair sticking out at the top of Mark’s head. He licked his thumb and leaned closer, evoking a puzzled expression from Mark. He pressed the hair down and Mark looked up at it through his bangs. “What.”
“Hair was bothering me.”
Mark blushed, “Sorry, y’know how Jaehyun gets when it comes to my hair. Won’t keep his hands out of it.”
Jeno laughed and put his pick (also neon) in his mouth as he started tuning his bass, “I think that’s why Jaemin has such an odd fixation with playing with people’s hair too. Did you see him the other day with Renjun?”
“He’s always with Renjun.”
“Yeah true. But the other day, he spent a solid thirty minutes cupping the back part of Renjun’s hair,” Jeno paused to point at the back of his head, “because he thought it was fascinating how “fluffy”, his words not mine, it was. Look, he’s doing it again.”
Mark turned to look at the right side of the stage where, true to Jeno’s word, Jaemin was squatting behind Renjun and playing with his hair. Renjun just ignored him and played random snippets of pieces he memorized on his keyboard. Mark looked back at Jeno, “Do you think they’re dating?”
Jeno, finished with tuning, took his pick out of his mouth and brushed a hand through his hair, neon finger tape a stark contrast to his dark, black hair. He grinned knowingly at Mark, “Not yet. They’re waiting for someone to make a move.”
“Okayyyyy we’re not talking about that here,” Mark laughed awkwardly and quickly grabbing his mic to address their audience, which was just Jeno’s neighbor, a small family of four, Jaemin’s godfather, two tired employees, Mark’s cheerleading squad (+ Doyoung, Jisung, and Chenle), and-
The door slams open and a petite boy, perhaps around Jeno’s age, stepped in. He ruffles his pale orange curls and stuffed his hands into his bright red bomber jacket. His jeans were torn and his shoes were scuffed. But, all Jeno could see was the neon orange fabric belt he had looped through his jeans and around his thin waist. He should try to get his name later.
But then the boy connected their gazes and with a pink, glossy, and coyish smile, Jeno knew with a thundering heartbeat that he wouldn’t have to try at all. He’d be leaving the diner with this boy whether he liked it or not.
An hour later and a ton of quick glances at the mysterious neon sweetheart sitting at the back of the diner, red bomber nearly blending in with the red booth, Jeno’s first gig ended. Mark dragged Renjun and Jaemin to introduce them to his cheerleading squad, which grew exponentially as the gig went on. Jeno recognized Jungwoo, who was his AP Physics C class’s TA. Doyoung had rushed to give him a big hug, yelling in his ear how proud he was, before going back to stop Chenle from trying to fit into an empty trash can. Both employees were in the backroom taking stock which meant that Jeno was all alone in this chaos and with zero excuses.
So with the confidence of a Jaemin in AP Calculus AB (having zero comprehension of anything just taught but has 100% confidence to fake understanding when the teacher asked if anyone had any questions), Jeno set down his bass and marched halfway across the diner towards the awaiting boy in the back, before getting nervous and quickly zig-zagging his way back to the stage. He plopped down on the floor and pretended to be busy with fixing the taped emoticon. Then, two black boots stepped into his view. Someone cleared their throat.
Jeno looked up and with the bright light shining behind the boy’s head, Jeno thought he looked faintly like an angel, so he told him as much.
The boy chortled and Jeno felt his heart soar. “Do I?”
“Yeah.”
The boy crouched down until they’re eye level. “How about now?”
“Still like an angel.”
The boy snorted in disbelief but he was grinning so Jeno took it as a win. “You’re weird. You’re so confident to flirt with me but couldn’t even walk all the way to me.”
Jeno shrugged and answered honestly, “I got nervous.”
“Mmm,” the boy sucked in his bottom lip and bit it. Jeno tried (and failed) not to track the movement with his eyes. “What’s your name?”
Jeno pointed at his bass. The boy looked down and traced the neon tape with a finger. His nail was painted neon too and Jeno’s heart thumped faster. He murmured to himself, “J. E. N. O. Jeno.”
He let Jeno’s name roll around his mouth a few times, much like the lollipop he unwrapped and ate in the middle of their fifth song (not that Jeno noticed or anything). “I like your name.”
“I think I’d like yours more.”
The boy grinned. “How do you want to learn it?”
“Up to you.”
“I’ll tell you if you let me play your bass someday.”
Jeno found himself answering easily, as easily as breathing, “Okay.”
The other brightened and then looked around the chaotic diner, where no one paid them any mind. But he still leaned in to whisper into Jeno’s ear a question that made Jeno’s skin tingle with goosebumps and heat coil in his stomach, “Wanna see what my name sounds like in your mouth?”
And seeing how fast Jeno slid his bass into its case and tugged the giggling boy into the small bathroom, his answer was yes.
mark l.
dude if u dont get outta the bathroom in the next 2 minutes we’re leaving w/o u
[read 9:53 pm]
Jeno rushed out of the bathroom—clothes askew and fly still halfway down, hair artistically tugged, and face littered with baby pink, glittery gloss kisses that anyone with a brain could see was from the equally messed up and elated sun-kissed boy Jeno was currently holding hands with—and snatched up his case. They waved goodbye to Jaemin’s godfather and found Mark leaning against his truck, bright phone screen illuminating his face. He looked up at them and completely unfazed, save for a little eyebrow raise, scoffed, “Took you long enough. Doyoung hyung already took Jisung and Chenle home but Jaemin’s getting cranky and you know how he gets when it’s late and he doesn’t have a Redbull in hand or in the nearest five meter radius.”
The two clambered into the truck, the boy plopping down prettily on Jeno’s lap. Renjun was knocked out against Jaemin’s shoulder and Jaemin just looked mildly unimpressed with Jeno, though Jeno knew that once he was well-rested or caffeinated, he’d be on Jeno’s ass about this newest development. It was quiet in the car as Mark started it up and drove down the street, only Renjun’s gentle snores and some rapper’s album Mark was playing quietly from the stereo to keep them company.
It was quiet until Jeno couldn’t take it anymore. “His name is Donghyuck and he’s a drummer. He should join us.”
Mark stopped the car at a red light and turned in his seat to look back at the pair, “Welcome to the band. Do you have your own set?”
“Yeah but it’s pretty beat up, so I might need to get a new one.”
Mark turned back to look at the road. “Don’t worry. I know a guy. Have you ever met Yuta?”