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Summary
“What I’m saying, Joongie, is fuck everyone else,” Seonghwa says, knocking his forehead into Hongjoong’s. “Who cares if they think you’re good enough, if they respect you as a producer of equal value? You’re not meant to be like them, you’re meant to be someone different. Someone who makes music just because he needs it to breathe, a man who has a group of boys behind him that would follow him to the ends of the Earth just because they believe in what he’s trying to do. You could write car commercial jingles and we’d still find a way to make it an Ateez title track. Because we believe in you, Kim Hongjoong. The same way I know you believe in yourself.” He lifts one of his hands to gently press his palm against the inside of Hongjoong’s bicep, the one where his tattoo lies permanently etched into his skin underneath the thin sleeves of his t-shirt. “Because there’s no one like you, right?”
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Hongjoong is beginning to feel like he's losing himself, his music becoming a way to seek approval rather than songs he can be proud of. Songs that feel like him.
Seonghwa decides it's time to remind Hongjoong of who he is.