Chapter Text
There was always a saying that Kim Hongjin believed in: there’s no giving up until the eviction notice.
Of course, he’d never been evicted in his life, so he couldn’t exactly relate to it in its literal form.
Kim had always wanted to be a musician. He was already a dogshit spender as it is, he needed some kind of income! He’d tried a restaurant job (to his boredom) and be a cashier (again, to his boredom), and he’d completely run out of options.
Yet…his parents did not exactly believe it was the best career choice.
“It’s just…sudden!” his mother insisted. “Not a lot of people in this town are successful musicians, especially with most of the kids here being busy students like you, and….”
“ Mom…” He’d been only 7, and his dreams were crushed by his own mother.
“She’s right, you know—we’re just trying to look out for you! We care about your future, y’know,” his dad had joined in, seemingly unknowing of the stern nature of his words—a musician himself…yet why’d he think the future had no hope for the career?
So it’d been a little crushing, so to say.
But he didn’t give up— nothing could pull him away from music. Nothing at all.
Kim had always loved tigers. He guesses it was because of their speed, or because of some wiring in his brain causing him to memorize tiger facts instead of the multiplication table, yet something had snapped and he’d loved them more than his own bones.
So if the day comes where he gets on a stage, he’d say…
“My name’s Horangi, and I’ll show you what real music sounds like!” he said, with his most serious voice.
The attic had been dusty, but it had all of his father’s old equipment! This is his only chance for stage practice! If he wanted to be a star, he’d need to get some tunes in to warm up.
Borrowing his father’s guitar, Horangi reaches out to strike some sick chords!
…and cuts his finger.
“Fuck, why’s this thing so old?!” he cursed, trying to be as quiet as he could so he didn’t wake up his parents. Unfortunately for Kim, the quietest he can be is a completely standard volume.
He’d been told not to touch it again and let off with a bandaid, but his determination was not deterred.
As the years passed, Kim’s parents slowly lessened their strong opinions against music, allowing him to buy a guitar, on the condition it was bought with his own money.
Ha-ha! Win for Horangi! he had smirked at his reflection in the mirror.
After narrowly avoiding enough gambling scams, he had finally put off $675 for his own guitar. It’d been a little raggedy, and he’d had to custom-paint tiger stripes on it, but it was his and his alone.
To accompany his tiger theme, the guitar had been named ‘Fang’—a fact he’d never share, his peers would make fun of him for naming a guitar. They’d often name their pencil or eraser, so he didn’t see why they didn’t laugh at that.
Swiftly after the purchase and subsequent signing up for guitar practice, Kim decided that this new responsibility would make or break his life.
“You’ve taken an interest in that guitar of yours, Kim,” his peers would say. “You’ve never been invested in something so passionately!”
“Hey, guys, it’s not that big of a deal…” he’d say. Even when they would have a quip about how he only loves himself, Kim would be shockingly modest about it.
So there began the adventures of Horangi and his new partner, Fang. He just hoped he’d actually get the chance to see the stage with it one day.
♪♪♪
“I’ll have the tamales,” Kim states, assuming his most confident stance. It looked as if he’d been a middle schooler looking cool at their school’s Career Day.
“You always have the tamales. If you didn’t order plain tamales, I’d be worried for you,” the waiter replied. They’d completely ignored their work to chat with Kim, leaned over the table as if they’d been only a customer.
“You’re an asshole, Rudy, y’know that?” Kim asks, fond tone betraying his words.
“Love you too.”
The pair had been situational friends—could they be considered neighbors? Rudy’s family had a restaurant right near Kim’s house, and they’d been introduced when they were grade schoolers, playing Mario Kart on the Parra family couch and not saying anything for hours on end.
“Here’s your order, idiot,” Rudy snapped him back to reality with his lunch in hand. “You’re lucky we’re friends!” Kim knew there was no malicious intent behind Rudy’s words.
Besides Rudy, Kim didn’t have many friends. Sure, he’s popular with his classmates, but they have best friends other than him that they enjoy spending time with more. Rudy didn’t go to his school, so his time was spent wondering what it’d be like to share answers with a friend, and skip class with them…He shook away the thought. He can’t be sad when he’s eating his favorite food.
Horangi is brought out of his thoughts by a sudden sound near him. Is someone…singing?
They had a higher voice, matched by a slight lilt akin to a hummingbird’s wingbeat—and closer inspection revealed they were a few booths down from Kim’s seat. Their wavy, ginger hair had been accented by tired-looking blue eyes, and they were singing a song he’d heard thousands of times on the radio. By the lanyard, they’re most likely going to Kim’s school, so maybe their conversation wouldn’t be as awkward. If they were even up for one.
Kim’s legs carry him to stand by their booth, awestruck.
“Excuse me,” Horangi says, the politest he’d ever been. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re—your singing is beautiful?”
“Wh…Huh?” the ginger said. Their face was a very prominent red, one could think they’d cartoonishly explode any minute.
“I’ve heard that song way too much, but your pitch makes it sound amazing! Like those sirens from the book we read in History? Sorry if I’m rambling—“ Kim is suddenly cut off by the stranger raising their voice.
“I-I’m terribly sorry Mr. Hongjin,” Kim frowns at their excessive formality. “But…I’ll see you later! …I hope!”
Before Kim could ask what was wrong, they grabbed their bag and speeded out of the restaurant at an inhuman velocity, leaving Kim awestruck in place. …How did they know his last name? And if they were the same age, why’d they say Mr. Hongjin?
“Rudy. Do you usually serve any beautiful gingers?”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Rudy shouted.