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Soonyoung was always in awe of how Jihoon used his words. Behind the limelight, Jihoon was never the type to talk too much. But his brevity with the words he spoke was counteracted by how many things he wanted communicate through his - their, a voice that sounded eerily like Jihoon's corrected - songs.
When Jihoon humbly said in that one interview that there was nothing special about the words he uses in his lyrics, that he liked using everyday, commonplace words because they felt more sincere... Soonyoung couldn't help but scoff internally because he could write using ordinary words too, but none of the lyrics he came up with through racking his brain for hours could hold a candle to the lyrics that seem to flow so effortlessly from the producer. Surely, he possessed some kind of magic?
Occupied with these thoughts, Soonyoung found himself in front of Jihoon's studio. He usually hangs out here to make sure Jihoon eats somehow. But tonight, aside from the usual, "How was the food Jihoonie?" or "What are you busy working on right now?" questions that he usually asked Jihoon, he blurted out a question that even he himself was caught offguard by - "Jihoonie, can you teach me how to make a song?"
Even more surprising was Jihoon's calm reply. "Sure."
Whenever he was free, Soonyoung found himself in Jihoon's studio. At first, he was just watching as Jihoon tried to explain to him how to use the different computer programs, or how Jihoon produces the sounds and effects that he had in mind. It always amazes him how Jihoon just got him - maybe it's because Jihoon was a dancer too, that he understood what he tried to communicate via dance steps and body movements.
One night, over some half empty takeout boxes, Soonyoung breaks the atmosphere generated by their chewing noises and the sounds of chopsticks hitting the takeout containers.
"Jihoonie, what made you start writing lyrics?" He looks over to Jihoon, who pauses his aggressive chewing and looks at him.
Jihoon drinks some coke and asks with a short laugh, "Where did the question come from all of a sudden?"
Soomyoung shrugs, "I don't think I ever got to ask you, is all" as he picks up another piece of chicken from the box, trying to subtly evade Jihoon's eyes.
Quiet. Save for the sound of Soonyoung's heartbeat, which was beating louder in his ears as each millisecond passes by. "Ah, I hope Jihoon doesn't hear it," he thinks, panics, to himself.
Jihoon clears his throat, breaking through the fog of Soonyoung's thoughts. "You know I started because of Seventeen, silly," he said with that small smile of his that would probably seem like contentment to some, but Soonyoung had a niggling feeling that it was forced somehow.
"Of course," Soonyoung laughs, hoping it didn't sound half as awkward to Jihoon's eara as it did to his, "Of course it's for the team." He attempts a smile. "Ya Jihoon, I'm heading out first - I have to meet Hyelim-ssaem, I have some questions about the choreography we practiced yesterday."
"Alright. Tell her I said hi," Jihoon tells him as Soonyoung tries to gather his things as quickly as he could without seeming like he was in a hurry.
As Soonyoung closed the door of the studio behind him, it turns out that he need not worry that Jihoon would hear his heart beating loudly. Because in that moment, all Jihoon could hear was the sound of his own loudly beating heart.
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Jihoon remembers the first time he saw Soonyoung. He remembers being so in awe of how he dances - how he moved his limbs so naturally, how he elevated a song through his dancing... years later he couldn't for the life of him remember the song but how fierce Soonyoung - no, Hoshi, he corrected himself - looked. How tiger eyes suited him so well. How his heart beat that staccato pattern even when he was still the entire time. Thump, thump, thump.
Thump, thump, thump. Jihoon was jolted back to the present, and he sighed as he put his hand over his chest, trying to calm the erratic beating of his heart. He took out his notebook and felt around the pages for a bookmark - "there it is," he thinks as he flips to that page.
'Cause the possibility
That you would ever feel the same way
About me
It's just too much
Just too much (just too much)Why do I keep running from the truth?
All I ever think about is you
You've got me hypnotized, so mesmerized
And I just got to knowDo you ever think
When you're all alone
All that we could be
Where this thing could go?
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Is it real or just another crush?Do you catch a breath
When I look at you?
Are you holding back
Like the way you do?
'Cause I'm trying, trying to walk away
But I know this crush ain't going away
Going away
This song has been in the making for a while now, and he doubts it would ever see the light of day. He looks to the photo in his hand, a polaroid of two people casally mirroring each other's position on a couch, each with a phone in hand- his bookmark - and like any other time he's hit with a strong emotion, he grabs a pen and writes.
See, it's a chance we've gotta take
'Cause I believe
That we can make this into
Something that will last
Last forever
Forever
Recently, he thought that maybe, just maybe, Soonyoung could be feeling the same way. After all, he chose to spend more time with Jihoon of his own volition. But, his brain counters, he would do that to the other members too. You aren't special, Lee Jihoon.
He sighs, tucking the photo back in the same page, and flips to a clean one. Thoughts of Soonyoung can either put him in an ultra productive zone, coming up with words that so naturally combine to become song lyrics at such a fast pace that sometimes surprises even himself or being able to write nothing useful at all. Tonight was one of the latter ones, unfortunately.
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Jihoon found himself jolted into wakefulness. He rarely dreamt, but when he did, they weren't nearly as vivid as the one he just had. He grabs his phone to look at the time and sighs. He didn't even realize he fell asleep. Thankfully, he wasn't out for too long. Coming to terms with his lack of productivity for the night, he prepares the things he'll be bringing home.
In the warmth of the cab, he flips through his notebook until he lands on a slightly wrinkled, bookmarked page. He tries to make sense of what he wrote through the occasional light beams from the traffic lights and street lights they pass through.
They were near. There was a bump on the road that always roused Jihoon from any thoughts he had and signalled that there was only a couple of meters to go until they reach the dorm.
He grabbed his pen, crossed out the last paragraph, and closed his notebook. The car gradually came to a stop, and he went out of the warmth of the car, and into the biting cold Seoul air.