#1978 au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imnayeonjaem · 9 months ago

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1978. | the one who inspired me

".. they had a serious synergy."

minors dni. ageless blogs dni. blank blogs dni. you'll be blocked.

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character(s): kim hongjoong, song mingi (ft. park seonghwa, jeong yunho)

tags: explicit language, sleep-deprived hj, deadline stress, caring hwa, mingi is a hero, brief reference to heteronormativity (it's the 70s..)

word count: 3.8k

summary: the time hongjoong became stressed over writing his first album and thus acquired the help of a writing partner..

a/n: apologies for this format looking different to the other chapters (editing on mobile my beloathed) but! it's here so, enjoy!

you had the pen i had the paper you rearranged my muddled thoughts into pentameter

× January, 1974 ×

The second Hongjoong welcomed in the New Year with friends both old and new at his side, he was itching to get started on his first album immediately.

Seonghwa had to pry him from the writing desk during the holidays, considering the busy couple of months he’d had touring various bars and clubs doing small gigs for an extra bit of money here and there. Take some time off over the holidays, he’d said, your notebook will still be there in the new year.

Hongjoong reluctantly listened, but that hadn’t stopped him from coming up with new lyrics and melodies and instrumentals. Nothing was going to stop him from doing that.

He called his parents over the holidays, and was going back and forth in his head over whether or not to tell them the good news.

Hongjoong knew his ma would be supportive, but his pa probably wouldn’t believe him. In fact, he didn’t think either of them would believe him until they received a legitimate copy of his first album.

At the end of his phone call, he simply told his ma that he had a huge surprise, and that they would have to wait a little while before they could be told. Girlfriend, job and winning the lottery were all the guesses his ma could make, and a nervous chuckle had escaped Hongjoong before he said that none of them were right, and that it was arguably even bigger than that. He’d also made a promise that once everything was ready, he would come back to Anyang to show them in person.

His ma was undoubtedly eager to see what the surprise was, and wished him all the best for the new year before they ended the call.

Hongjoong sat at his desk, clicking his pen on and off a few times and staring at his open notepad. He groaned then rested his forehead on the empty pages.

Seonghwa appeared in the doorway behind him. “Y’know, I can hear that noise from down the hall.”

Hongjoong merely hummed, frustrated.

Rolling his eyes, Seonghwa entered the room and stood behind him. “Struggling?”

“Y- cou- s- th-,” Hongjoong mumbled into the spine of the notebook.

“Huh?”

Hongjoong lifted his head. “You could say that,” he repeated. Elbow on the desk, he planted his chin into the palm of his hand and sighed. “I have the ideas. I have all the lyrics and melodies, they’re all up here.” He waved the pen around his head. “They’re just not coming.. out.”

“Hm, you know what you should do?”

“What?” said Hongjoong, flatly.

“Carry around a tiny notepad to jot down anything that comes to your mind, no matter where you are. Inspiration strikes at such random times, you never know when something will crop up.”

Hongjoong gave him a look, “I was going to do that, but the minute I picked up a pen someone took it out of my hand and told me to give my brain a rest.”

Seonghwa looked askance, feeling mild guilt. “I only did that because you had picked up so many gigs over the last couple of months that you were frying your brain. It was in no fit state to try and conjure up song lyrics.” He glanced back down at his friend, who had since turned to gaze out of the window. With a sigh, Seonghwa sat down on the bed. “You’ve been stressed out about this album release, I just wanted to take some weight off your shoulders. I’m sorry if that curbed any of your creativity.”

Hongjoong heard the slight shakiness in Seonghwa’s voice and looked over at him. Seonghwa’s eyes were downturned and his lips were in a straight line. “It’s okay, don’t feel bad. I appreciate that you wanted me to rest over the holidays. And you didn’t curb my creativity.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry if that’s how it came across.”

Seonghwa glanced up. “You put so much pressure on your shoulders. I just didn’t want you to fall at the first hurdle before you even had a chance to get over it. I just wanted you to enter this new year feeling refreshed and ready to take on this challenge.”

Hongjoong’s heart lurched in his chest. He knew that he could be hard on himself, he just didn’t realise how hard he could be until there was a consistent presence in his life telling him to take the weight off from time to time. Seonghwa was that presence. And if anything, it helped him. “I know, I know, I understand that. I’m sorry, and thank you.” He gave a small smile, and Seonghwa returned it, though something wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. “And hey, that idea about the tiny notepad sounds like a really good one. I think I’ll take you up on it.”

Something lit up in Seonghwa’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You’re right, too, inspiration can strike at any time. I think I just need to get out of my own head and see the world.” He gazed out of the window, wistfully. The view mainly consisted of grey office towers and roads, but there was life out there. There were so many places to explore, so many things he could write about.

So many places to draw inspiration from.

Seonghwa leaned forward, “And.. maybe you could consider getting a writing partner?”

Hongjoong stilled. He turned to Seonghwa. “A writing partner?”

“Yeah! Someone to bounce ideas off of. Another talented songwriter like yourself.”

Hongjoong scoffed at that comment, but the idea started turning somersaults in his head. A writing partner. Why had he never thought of that before?

Hongjoong knew why he hadn’t thought of that before. He worked alone. Not that he was against the idea of teamwork, but when it came to his music, his songs, his lyrics, he didn’t know if he could trust anyone else.

Seonghwa sat back, noticing the change in expression on Hongjoong’s face. “Just.. think about it, is all I’m saying. Might be worth it.” He stood up and left the room without another word.

Hongjoong didn’t move for a time, until his eyes flickered to the window.

This time, he saw his reflection.

Could he trust another person with his words?

He closed the curtains, closed the notepad, then took his notepad and pen and left the room.

As he shut the door, he spotted ink on his hands.

With a single hum, he shut off the pen.

“Seonghwa? I’m going out for a bit.”

With a simple acknowledgement from Seonghwa, he left the apartment.

He needed some air.

×-×

Taking long brisk walks had often been the key to inspiration for Hongjoong.

Wrapped up warm in his winter coat, gloves on to protect his hands, he strolled in the aftermath of a blizzard that had swept over Seoul the previous night, leaving a blanket of flakes over the pavements, roads and parked cars.

Not many people were out and about in this weather. The few who were out chose to stay sheltered under canopies, or, like Hongjoong, actually enjoyed roaming through the snow, letting the crisp winter breeze sweep over them. Hongjoong kept his eyes trained on the ground and watched as his shoes became buried in the snow every so often. He kicked off the dust with each layer, and smiled to himself whenever the little particles collected at the toes.

A writing partner. Hongjoong couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He didn’t have the first clue on where to even find a writing partner. Was there one in-house at the label? Hongjoong figured he could ask Yeosang if there were any songwriters on the team, there were surely a few he could get assistance from.

Perhaps Hongjoong could outsource a songwriter. Put an ad in the local newspaper for a writing partner. But then he would have to weigh up the pay rate; there was no way he could ask a writer to work for free.

There were too many things to consider with this one suggestion. Hongjoong was just starting to learn how many.

i trusted you with my heart you held it delicately over the page i was so unsure but you assured we were a team and look at us we lasted an age

One song. That was all Hongjoong had managed to write in the days since 1974 began.

He would call it an accomplishment - and it was - if he wasn’t so disheartened at himself for the lack of progress he had made.

Swamped with the reality of needing to come up with five new songs, the other three being his demo tracks which were to be re-recorded for official release, Hongjoong found himself scrunching up more pieces of paper than he was actually writing on.

Seonghwa didn’t disturb him most days, and only knocked on his door once in a while to make sure he had eaten, or stayed hydrated, or used the bathroom, or hell even slept. Seonghwa could count on more than one hand the amount of times he had seen Hongjoong slumped over his desk snoring, and with all due respect to his stubborn friend, it was not a pretty sight.

The dozenth time he found Hongjoong in that position, head plastered on his notebook with the pen almost falling out of his hand, he sauntered over to the drowsy man and gently tapped his shoulder three times.

Hongjoong hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour, but it was a deep enough slumber to startle him awake. “Hng- huh- wha-” He shook off some of the cobwebs and rubbed his eyes. Seonghwa didn’t have the heart to nag. “What’s.. Huh.. Oh, hi Seonghwa.” Leaning back in his chair, Hongjoong yawned wide and loud, which set Seonghwa off. “Ah, sorry..”

“No, it’s okay..”

“What time is it?” mumbled Hongjoong, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk as if he were to pick up where he left off.

“Quarter-past two.” Hongjoong hummed, thinking that’s not too bad, quarter-past two in the aftern- “In the morning.”

Hongjoong sat bolted upright. “In the morning?” he exclaimed in a whisper.

“Yes..” Seonghwa exhaled.

“God, have I really been asleep that long?” Hongjoong covered his face with both hands and groaned.

“No, you’ve really been working that late,” Seonghwa corrected. “You really ought to get some sleep, Joong-ah.”

“Gah.” It took Hongjoong a few seconds to consider getting up, and then when he started considering it took him a few more seconds to actually do it. He grimaced at the thought of needing to move around and do things in order to get into bed, and his bed was so tempting that he could just crawl inside without a second’s notice..

“You are not going to bed like that.”

Hongjoong cursed Seonghwa sometimes for how attentive he was and how all-knowing he seemed to be. He reminded him of ma. Hongjoong missed her a lot. He missed pa a lot, too, even if he was a nuisance at times.

His heart nearly sank out of nowhere. Seonghwa has only ever been trying to help.

Looking up at his friend, Hongjoong smiled. Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed. “You okay?”

Hongjoong breathed in, then out. Yeah, he was okay. Tired, exhausted perhaps. Stressed, a little. Needing a little encouragement, absolutely. But he was okay.

“Yeah. I’m just thankful.”

Seonghwa’s face became neutral.

Hongjoong explained further, “Thankful for you. And everyone else who’s come into my life.”

Seonghwa smiled. “Always here, Joong-ah. Now, get some rest.”

Hongjoong nodded. He would follow Seonghwa’s instruction and do all the things he needed to to have a good night’s rest.

When it was finally time to clamber in, he turned to Seonghwa and asked, “Hey, do you know what day it is tomorrow? I seriously feel like I’m losing track of time.” A half-chuckle escaped him.

Seonghwa’s eyes darted around in thought before they landed back on Hongjoong, “February 1st.”

Hongjoong froze in place. Already?

With that settled, Seonghwa kindly bid him goodnight then went into his own room. Hongjoong did so too, then retired for the night and clambered into bed.

A new month, he thought, not long now before I need to present all the material I’ve written.

He closed his eyes. He thought for a while. He drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, he would look for a writing partner.

× February, 1974 ×

When in doubt, call your best friend.

Hongjoong was well and truly at a brick wall; what better way to knock it down than ask your lifelong friend for advice?

When the dial tone finished ringing, Yunho’s voice sounded through the speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey, Yunho, it’s me, Hongjoong.”

“Oh, hey, Hongjoong! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Hongjoong chuckled. “Well, first of all, how are you doing?”

“Not too bad, not too bad. Swamped with work, as always, but I manage it. Yourself?”

With a sigh, Hongjoong answered. “A little stressed.”

“Uh-oh. Songwriting stress?”

Hongjoong sighed. Yunho always seemed to know what was wrong straight away. “Right on the money.” Yunho went silent for a while, seemingly pondering this dilemma. Hongjoong continued, “I’ve been keeping Seonghwa up lately. I think he’s legitimately worried about my wellbeing, ha.”

“Not surprised. I’ve seen you at peak stress levels. I had to physically pull your assignments away from you.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Well, Seonghwa said something to me the other day and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” Yunho left a curious pause open for Hongjoong to elaborate. “He said I should get a writing partner.”

Yunho went silent again for a time. “A writing partner, you say?”

“Yeah. He reckons it would be good to have someone I can bounce ideas off of, but I’ve been hesitant.”

“Hmm.” Yunho mentally paced back and forth, until a brilliant idea popped into his head. “Wait! I think I’ve got the perfect person!”

Hongjoong was taken aback. His eyes widened. “Wait, you do?”

Yunho beamed. He did a small dance. “I know exactly who could help.”

Hongjoong didn’t know what to say. His mouth was agape. “..Who?”

“Remember I told you that my mum had met a woman over the holidays and became good friends with her?” Hongjoong hummed. “Well, her son had dropped out of uni to pursue songwriting and music production. His name’s Mingi. I’ve only spoken to him a few times but he’s a really chill person. I told him about you, and that you’re about to release your first album, and he said if you ever wanted any tips, he’d be glad to help!”

Hongjoong couldn’t believe it. This could be the perfect solution.

A thousand questions flooded his mind. What if they didn’t gel? What if Mingi’s style was completely different to his? What if their ideas clashed to the point they couldn’t come up with something together?

Hongjoong knew the only way he’d find out was if he met Mingi in person.

With that, he only had one question left to ask.

“Can he make it to Seoul?”

×-×

As Hongjoong stood outside the train station, Seonghwa to his right, he steadily grew more nervous about this first meeting.

Seonghwa aimed to calm his nerves, but he didn’t know if he was succeeding much.

“I’d trust Yunho’s judgement that Mingi is a chill person, as he says. Why would Yunho think to introduce the two of you if he wasn’t dead certain that you’d work well together?”

“Yunho’s an optimist,” said Hongjoong, instantly. He did then work back this statement a little. “Not to say that I don’t trust Yunho��s judgement, y’know. I know he only has the best of intentions and that he suggested Mingi as a suitable writing partner because he knows my style and that the two of us would be a great team.” Hongjoong sounded ambitiously hopeful through the thin veil of posing these statements as fact.

Seonghwa saw through him, but understood all the same that Hongjoong wouldn’t try and question his closest friend’s discernment.

A few minutes passed, and the two of them saw a pair of men leaving the train station.

“Oh,” Hongjoong blurted, “that’s them.”

He began making his way over to the entrance, trying to flag the two men down. Yunho and Mingi eventually looked over, and a bright smile appeared on Yunho’s face. Similarly, Mingi looked more than pleased to be there, and followed Yunho like a puppy on his tail.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa met the pair in the middle, and once Hongjoong and Yunho were standing toe to toe, they shared a brief hug before Yunho introduced the man beside him. “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, meet Mingi.”

Mingi bowed his head, before reaching out to shake Hongjoong’s hand. “Nice to meet you both.”

Mingi was roughly the same height as Yunho, with long, messy ash brown hair that fell in front of his eyes. He was dressed similarly to Hongjoong, band shirt with jeans and an oversized denim jacket on top. There were a few beaded bracelets on both wrists, and a peace sign necklace sitting proudly on his chest. Hongjoong wondered where he got it from.

He returned the gesture, and Seonghwa followed suit. The four of them exchanged smiles before Hongjoong openly suggested they go to a local café to talk.

What followed was an hour of pleasant conversation, leading to the whole reason Mingi came to Seoul in the first place.

“So, Yunho tells me you’re looking for a writing partner for your first album,” said Mingi, already interested.

Hongjoong nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been struggling a lot.” He rubbed the nape of his neck, almost embarrassed to admit it.

Mingi sensed this and put his worries to rest. “Don’t feel embarrassed. Writing is hard. I’ve struggled with my own work. It’s not an easy feat, especially when you have to come up with a bunch of songs on a time crunch.”

Time crunch. Something flickered in Hongjoong’s mind. The deadline was the main part of the problem. He could’ve broken down.

Mingi’s lips turned upwards. “But don’t panic. Tomorrow, we’ll meet back here, get some caffeine in us and have a good writing session.”

Seonghwa mirthfully objected to the second idea. “Please, no more caffeine for this one, I don’t think his body can take anymore.”

Hongjoong awkwardly covered his face as the others chuckled. “Alright,” Mingi agreed, “no caffeine. But if you can meet me here midday tomorrow,” he said to Hongjoong, “we’ll get some writing done.”

Hongjoong uncovered his face, a smile hiding behind his hand. “You sure?”

Mingi nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

They exchanged an earnest look before Yunho leaned over the table and declared, “Well, that’s settled! Another round?”

“Why not,” Seonghwa replied, “and seriously, no caffeine for this one.”

×-×

The pair had been in the café for nearly two hours.

There were loose bits of sheet music everywhere - one of the first things Hongjoong learned about Mingi was that he played the piano and guitar and could read sheet music - along with empty cups of iced tea and decaf coffee.

Mingi had a good sense of humour. He spun nearly everything Hongjoong said into something witty and it had the rockstar doubling over in laughter every five minutes. Between all the serious moments, there were times Hongjoong had to clutch his own stomach as it hurt so much from guffawing.

But, most astonishingly, in the two hours they had spent together, Mingi had helped him write three new songs.

After another round of chuckling at some new in-joke they’d come up with, Hongjoong took a deep breath and let the moment sit for a while.

He stared at the three new songs on the table. There were scribbles and random notes and arrows coming off of different words to jot down some extra bit of information one of them deemed was pertinent, but one thing was clear: they had a serious synergy.

Mingi was certain the minute they both sat down: I don’t wanna take anything away from your message. I wanna add to it.

Hongjoong was so concerned any writing partner he’d end up with would twist and turn his words into something completely different, fashion them into another creation so precisely that it could never be called his own.

But Mingi was not like that.

Any line he came up with, Mingi helped build its core. Any word he thought stuck out like a sore thumb, Mingi flipped into something more concise. Any heart he put down on the page, Mingi made sure he doubled it.

Hongjoong had tired of the nights he spent stuck at his desk fretting over the deadline that was not-so-subtly approaching.

Partway through this writing session, he simply broke down and cried. Mingi listened to every one of his worries, offering him a shoulder and allowing him to let it all go.

Mingi was choked up to know Hongjoong had grown to trust him.

Once the third song was written, he almost sunk in on himself and said, “Y’know, if you ever feel like I’m doing too much or that I’m stepping all over your toes, tell me and I’ll rein it in.”

But Hongjoong was adamant. At no point in this writing session had Mingi been anything else apart from kind, encouraging and supportive.

He didn’t know why he was so worried. He knew Yunho would never let him down like this.

“Mingi,” Hongjoong began, his voice thick with sincerity, “for the last month or so I have had the worst time with writing these songs. You have seriously swooped in and saved the day, you are quite literally my hero!”

Mingi smiled sheepishly, his face warm. “I’m just a writer.”

Hongjoong drew back in shock. “That is not true! You are more than just a writer, you are-” He struggled to think of the words. “You have literally taken all my shit and made it incredible!”

Now it was Mingi’s turn to look on in horror. “Hongjoong, you need to be kinder to yourself.”

That remark made Hongjoong’s spine collapse in on itself. He glanced up at Mingi.

“You are an awesome writer. Yunho showed me your demo tape and it was amazing. Not just how you play but the way you write, and the things you’ve got to say. You need to have more confidence in your writing abilities because, genuinely,” Mingi put his hand on his heart to cement this comment, “you have a skill for this shit.”

Hongjoong swallowed the lump in his throat and turned back to the sheets of paper on the table. “I would never have got this far if it wasn’t for you.”

Mingi looked back and forth between Hongjoong and the pages he was staring at, before finally looking at Hongjoong again.

“I wouldn’t have had the final meal without the ingredients.”

Hongjoong turned back to him. They shared a smile.

A lightbulb went off in his head.

“I think I know what I want the fourth song to be about.”

Mingi’s smile widened. “Tell me.”

i called you my hero and that’s never been a lie i called you my hero and that’s never been a lie

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