#and many many more lyrics i love their songwriting on this album | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wavesmp3 · 11 months ago

Text

[csc] ode to you

inspired by 'daisy jones & the six'

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader (gn) genre: band au, strangers to lovers, angst wc: 13.7k warnings: cursing, heavy alcohol usage and often in an unhealthy way, one mention of blood (a terrible case of largely irrelevant side characters, an attempt at writing song lyrics, switching pov’s without any real indication, story existing in a vacuum of time and space loosely based off of 70s usa)

synopsis → The Numbers are a band well on their way to commercial success with Seungcheol as the dreamy front man, Soonyoung on drums, Joshua on guitar, Minghao on bass, and Junhui on keys. But all that changes the second you step into the studio to record “Begin Again” with them. The song is an instant hit, launching you from a singer-songwriter nobody to the biggest new name in music and catapulting the Numbers into a larger limelight than they’ve ever been in before. So with the entire country singing your song, the pressure is on for you and the Numbers to create an entire album that lives up to their expectations. But while pressure builds, something akin to feelings for the front man builds with it.

You go to knock again on the door, heavy footsteps and heavier breaths, but just as soon as your knuckles make contact with the heavy wood, the door swings open.

Jihoon looks disappointed. “You were going to knock again, weren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, pushing him aside and going straight for the marble bar cart you know sits in the sitting room off the formal dining area.

“You know you really have to work on your patience.” He says to you from the foyer, voice already sounding a bit far away. You always forget how big acclaimed-music-producer Woozi's house is. Although, you think, staring at the array of top shelf liquor arranged neatly on the bar cart, mansion is probably a more apt word for it.

You pour yourself a glass of whiskey.

Jihoon joins you in the room once you’ve already taken a seat in one of the brown leather arm chairs.

“How many glasses is that?”

You scoff. “I have a show at the Roxy after this.”

He hums, flicking the square paper in his hand.

You sit up slightly. “What is that?” Jihoon takes the paper over to the record player in the opposite corner of the room. He slips a clean black record out of the manilla slip and carefully places it into position. It doesn’t take long for the gentle hum of the record spinning around the platter to fill the room.

God, I love music. You think to yourself sitting back slightly in the armchair and allowing your eyes to shut.

“I want you to listen to this.” You hear Jihoon say, followed by the small pop of the decanter being opened and the quiet trickle and crack of liquor falling over ice. The sound of a bass overtakes the room. It’s somehow… gentle.

“Who’s it by?”

Jihoon doesn’t answer at first. You hear him sit down in the armchair next to yours while drums fill in the spaces of the songs and a guitar starts to hum along. And the sound that comes from the record player next–in all honesty, you don’t think Jihoon could have prepared you for. It’s a man’s voice, polished, in a way that you just know he’s been doing this for a while. His whole life maybe. There’s this rough, almost growly quality that amps the song up even more, and yet, simultaneously, his voice glides over the lyrics like honey spilling over the side of its jar. There’s so much depth in every note he hits. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard a voice–a sound–quite like this.

“Who is this?” You ask again once the first chorus comes to a close, opening your eyes and taking a proper look at Jihoon. He looks mildly amused.

“Have you heard of the Numbers?”

Seungcheol hurries into the studio from the car, guitar in one hand and lyrics in the other, fully expecting to get chewed out by his producer. “Jihoon, I’m so sorry. There was tra-”

Seungcheol stops in his tracks. The control room is empty. He steps back into the doorway and rereads the signage. He has the right room, so then… where is everybody?

“Seungcheol,” he hears a voice call for him from the recording stage. It’s Soonyoung, waving him inside and pointing at you. You smile at him, give him a nod of sorts. His eyes dart to Jihoon, giving him a look that says, who the fuck is that?

He walks into the recording booth hesitantly.

“Hey.” Jihoon says casually. “I don’t think you guys have met yet.”

You stand and approach him, sticking out your hand. Seungcheol just looks at it.

“The label thinks you guys would sound good on one track and want you to try recording ‘Begin Again’ together.”

He ignores your outstretched hand and looks straight at Jihoon. “Can we speak privately?”

—

Seungcheol had assumed he’d be the one getting chewed out in the studio today. Oh, how things have changed. He’s worked so hard on this song. More time and effort than he’s ever put in any of the band’s songs that came out before it. He can’t believe Jihoon would allow anyone else to try and taint it. “Begin Again” is his song. And he’ll be damned if he’s not the only one singing it.

Seungcheol’s ready to say all of this, but, “Before you say anything,” Jihoon doesn’t even let him speak, “I know how you feel about this. But the decision came from above me, okay. The Number’s last album didn’t do as well as the label hoped. They think another voice in the band could shake things up. And who knows, “Jihoon continues with a shrug that only makes Seungcheol fume more, “maybe this could be what you guys have been missing.”

Seungcheol cannot believe what he’s hearing. “We aren’t missing anything.”

“Don’t be dense.” Jihoon pans with a sideways stare. “I know you guys are good. I know you guys are gonna be big, but the rest of the world needs some convincing. Just try this, okay? This could be it.”

Seungcheol just shakes his head.

“I scouted them out myself. They’re a good singer and even better writer-”

“Writer?” Seungcheol nearly screams, arms flying to point at you through the control room window where the two boys are talking. “You want them to write on the song too?”

“They have a couple of…” Jihoon sighs, choosing his next word with extra precaution, “revisions.”

“Fuck that, Jihoon. I wrote a great song. It–”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You wrote a good song.” Jihoon refutes, matter-of-factly. “You wrote a good song, and they,” he points at you, “they made it a great one.”

Seungcheol is speechless.

“Here.” Jihoon pushes a piece of torn notebook paper into his hands.

If Seungcheol wasn’t so aware of the line Jihoon was drawing, he would’ve pushed harder, but at the end of the day, Jihoon is his boss and his lifeline in this business. If Jihoon says so, really says so, then there’s not much Seungcheol can do to fight it. Seungcheol is stubborn, but he’s not a fool looking to waste his own breath. He looks back into the recording stage. The band looks happy chatting to each other. And you, well, you’re staring at him.

A red light flashes on the sound board beneath him. “Talk over the changes.” Jihoon says to the band and you through the intercom. “We record in ten minutes.”

—

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say to Seungcheol sitting on the stool in front of the second mic. Seungcheol’s never even seen a studio setup with two mics before. He swallows a scoff. “Jihoon showed me the song the other day, and your voice it—“

“What does this line mean?” Seungcheol cuts in, taking his seat on the stool next to yours. “I changed my heart. I morphed my mind. You don’t have the right to tell me I didn’t try.”

Your face drops immediately. “Are you serious?”

Seungcheol raises a brow–a challenge.

You let out a breath of pure disbelief, focusing your gaze just above his head, and hands starting to make motions in the air. “It’s about changing yourself to be with someone. It’s about them never acknowledging that.”

“That’s not what this song is about.”

You give him a pointed look. “What do you think the song is about?”

It’s his turn for the disbelief. “What do I think the song I wrote is about?” You don’t falter, not even for a second. Seungcheol grasps at the words, mouth agape. “It’s about redemption.”

“That’s too easy.”

“How is that too easy?”

“Look,” you huff, mouth opening and closing like you can’t decide what it is you want to say. You end up reaching your arm out, palm open like you want a fucking hi-five or something. In the back of his mind, Seungcheol wonders if you’re still waiting for the handshake he never gave. “Give me your original lyrics.”

He does, you snatch the paper keeping your eyes on him for a second too long before finding whatever it was that you were looking for. “Right here,” you say, finger pointing at the tattered paper and eyes darting back and forth between him and his lyrics. Your face lights up. You look like you're holding back a smile. You look… excited. “Here, in the bridge you wrote: take me home, welcome me on those familiar roads, embrace me in your arms, oh please, tell me I still belong.”

“What about it?” Seungcheol asks, almost forgetting that he’s upset at Jihoon for this whole arrangement, nearly forgetting that he’s supposed to not be accepting any of your revisions because for the first time in so long, he’s able to really talk to someone about his lyrics.

You look up at him fully, and almost sadly, you say, “You really don’t get it, do you?” Seungcheol looks down at the lyrics you gave him, scanning them again. Funnily enough, that line is the only one of his you’ve kept.

“The song’s not about redemption,” you tell him. “It’s about guilt.”

—

Seungcheol, you, and the band end up recording your version of the song. It’s a good song. It’s still his melody, his hook, and his bridge, but almost none of the lyrics are his. Just like that, “Begin Again” becomes as much your song as it is his. If he wasn’t so angry at Jihoon, maybe he would’ve had the mind to notice how good you sound singing it.

Choi Seungcheol is an asshole.

That you learned in the recording studio with him and haven’t been able to get out of your head since. Unfortunately, he’s got one hell of a voice and gift for creating a good melody. And him and Jihoon together in the studio, god, they’re magic. You went out and purchased The Number’s previous record after you recorded “Begin Again”. You haven’t stopped listening to it since.

It’s one day when you’re working a shift at the diner that you start humming the song playing over the speaker while grabbing an order from the kitchen. You don’t even think twice about it. That is until you make it right in front of the table whose orders you’re holding and start to hear your own voice.

You nearly drop the four plates of burgers.

You rush over to the jukebox, not believing your ears, not believing that your voice, your words, your song is playing for the entire diner to hear.

And there, right at the bottom it reads: “Begin Again” by the Numbers ft. you

“Holy shit.”

The desert wasn’t too far from home, but it could not have been more different. There was so much nothing for as far as your eyes could see. There was dust everywhere, all over the place, sifting up through the air and in your lungs. How are you supposed to sing like this?

You hear the bands’ voices come up from behind you.

“Hey,” Seungcheol says, coming up next to you and resting an arm on the same wood railing as you. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You answer truthfully. You could barely believe it when you got the call from Jihoon saying that they wanted you to play the festival along with the Numbers. Although, considering that your song is playing on every radio station, it probably shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

The crowd roars as the previous artist says his goodbye.

“Have you ever played for a crowd like this?”

“Nope.”

He nods slowly. “It’s a lot. The first time especially, for sure. But just go with it, and uh,” he smiles, towards the ground, “it’s a lot of fun once you get past the nerves of it all.”

You look at him, battling against the grimace forming on your face. “Is this pep talk for me or for you? Cause I’m fine.”

His smile disappears when he sees your face. You must’ve lost the battle.

He inhales sharply. “‘Begin Again’ is last. Come out after I introduce you.”

You nod, and he joins the rest of his band.

The crowd cheers when they get on stage. The first song starts with a familiar guitar riff and the pound of the drums, followed by the crowd going ballistic. You’ve been playing on stage for a while now, but only ever in small clubs with small crowds. You’ve never seen a crowd like this, and it makes you ecstatic.

You hear Seungcheol sing the final words of the song and Junhui play the final chords. And you don’t know if its the crowd or the shot of vodka you took during the bridge or the fucking look Seungcheol gives you, but something, something, makes you forget what Seungcheol said about waiting and walk right onto that stage.

Joshua and Minghao look confused. Seungcheol looks vaguely pissed. Junhui and Soonyoung barely notice. But you don’t register any of that. All you can think as you walk onto that stage, grin flashing and arms up in the air is: this crowd was fucking waiting for me.

You step up to your mic and wait until the crowd quiets down. You introduce “Begin Again” as a song you wrote. The crowd erupts. You look over at Seungcheol, smiling, no–grinning, loving how annoyed he looks. Minghao doesn’t miss a beat, starting the song immediately. Your body moves on its own, dancing to the song, belting out each note, and loving every second of it. It’s sometime during the second verse, the one Seungcheol sings alone, that you notice how entranced he is. His eyes are half closed, and his fingers fly across his guitar like he’s not even thinking about it. He smiles at the crowd. You think you hear someone faint. He looks your way then, right before the pre-chorus, smiling still as if he wasn’t just glaring at you. It hits you almost instantly: nothing else matters to him right now. He’s in it, like really in it, and the only thing he seems to care about is putting on a good show. He’s loving this as much as you are, and maybe that’s enough to prove that you and Choi Seungcheol are more alike than either of you think.

You leave your mic stand and start dancing towards him. His entire body turns towards you, waiting for you, his eyes following. You meet right in front of his mic just as the chorus begins. And you’re left with no choice but to stand next to him, singing into the same mic with your faces so close you can feel every ragged breath he takes, see the sweat rolling off his hair, and hear the blood pumping through his veins. Take me home. You both sing with your entire chest. Welcome me on those familiar roads. You see him turn his head to face you. You mirror the motion, and sing the next line looking right into his eyes. Embrace me in your arms. Have his eyes always been this big? Oh please, tell me I still belong. And of course it’s this line you’re singing to each other like this. Of course it’s the one line in the entire song that you didn’t actually write and the one line he did.

The chorus ends, and you slowly back away from his mic and move back towards yours. He rips away on his guitar, fingers still flying like it’s the easiest thing, all while never taking his eyes off you. Staring at you like he found something. Staring at you like it’s only you and him on that stage.

You don’t even remember the song ending.

Music flows through Northside Tavern. A jazz band is playing today, and the piano player keeps making eyes at you.

“I heard the show over the weekend went well.” Jihoon says into your ear. You just nod. “And that the label really liked what you did with the song.”

You laugh. “Not just the label. The whole country liked it.” You give one last look to the pianist, before turning to Jihoon fully. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I have a number one single.”

You head over to the bar and ask for an old-fashioned.

“Not just you.” Jihoon yells behind you to be heard over the cheers after the band’s last song.

You pivot. “Excuse me?”

“It wasn’t just you.” Jihoon flags down the bartender, orders a scotch, neat. “It was the Numbers too.”

The bartender slides over three drinks.

You lean in over the counter. “We only ordered two.”

Wordlessly, the bartender points to the other side of the bar. The piano player holds up their drink. Jihoon grabs his drink, and you grab the remaining two. You lift them both up towards the pianist who gives you a rather charming smile, and then take a simultaneous sip from the straws of both drinks. You taste your old-fashioned and what seems to be a margarita.

You and Jihoon make your way over to a booth.

“What I wanted to say,” Jihoon continues, “is that the label likes you with the band, and they want you to make an album with them.”

“An album?” You suck in your bottom lip, feeling a sudden rush from all the alcohol. An album is exactly what you’ve been pushing and working so damn hard for. So then why does this feel bittersweet?

“I think this is going to be a good thing.” Jihoon tells you sincerely, eyes softening. “You and Seungcheol…” he hesitates for a moment. You hate when he chooses his words like this, picking out the bad ones and testing out all the others. But perhaps you only hate it so much because you lack the ability to do it yourself. “You guys work.”

You take another long double sip of your drinks, squinting at Jihoon skeptically. “What did Seungcheol say?”

Jihoon’s mouth parts. There. There it fucking is. Running your tongue over your top set of teeth, you say, “you haven’t asked him yet, have you?”

“No, we haven’t asked him yet–”

“I can’t believe this.”

“–but the rest of the band is already on board, and we all thought it’d be smarter if you agreed before we asked him.”

You tilt your head slightly. You thought Jihoon knew you better than this. “I’m not saying anything until he does.”

“Be honest with yourself here,” Jihoon says seriously, pushing his drink to the side and leaning forward, “it’s no secret that you and Seungcheol don’t get along. And I get it; I really do. But I know you see it.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “See what?”

“Most people in this business spend their entire lives looking for what he and you found during the ‘Begin Again’ sessions and again on the stage at the festival. And most people fail. Don’t throw that away over whatever bullshit he gave you when you first met. Don’t throw away the chance you’ve been waiting for because of that. You guys belong together. Focus on that.”

You don’t say anything after Jihoon finishes his little speech. Instead you reach for your drinks and finish them both in one long, prolonged sip. You ignore his annoyed ‘tsk’.

Putting the empty glasses down and to the side, you nod up at him, pursing your lips. “Are you done?”

He takes a long, final swig of his drink. “Yes.”

“Ask Seungcheol first.” You pull out your wallet and drop a couple bills on the table. “Then, you can call me.”

Today is already off to a bad start.

Seungcheol had come into the studio ready to record and knock out at least 2 or 3 songs off the album today, but then Minghao wanted to talk about the album’s direction and Soonyoung wanted to request everyone to add as many drum parts as possible.

And it’s as he’s listening to Junhui and Soonyoung argue about the addition of piano solos, that you walk into the studio.

Jihoon welcomes you with a hug. Hansol, the sound engineer, offers to make you tea. Meanwhile, Seungcheol can’t understand why you deserve any kindness at this moment. Your session started an hour ago.

“You’re late.” Seungcheol says, bringing the rest of the band to notice your arrival.

You look at him with a smile, gesturing to the two boys who were just arguing. “Doesn’t really look like I missed anything.”

“We were talking about the album’s direction.” Minghao says from behind Seungcheol.

You nod, putting down your stuff and taking a seat. “Okay, shoot.”

Seungcheol puts his hands up. “Well since we’re talking about it. I’ve been working on a couple songs, and,” he hesitates, pulling out a couple sheets of paper that Jihoon helped him print and handing them out, “I think I might have something good that we can build the rest of the album off of.”

Everyone takes a moment to read. Seungcheol watches the room carefully. Joshua clears his throat. Junhui plays a loose note.

Your voice is the first that comes out of the silence. “Are you serious?”

He whips his head around. “What?”

“‘Will you still love me when I’m old? Will you still love me when I’m proud.’” You read aloud, before shoving the paper back towards him, that mocking smile still plastered on your face. “I’m not singing that.”

He scoffs, tongue swiping at his lips. “Why not? They’re good songs.”

You shrug. “They’re cheesy.”

“You haven't even read the whole thing.”

“I’ve read enough.”

“Are–are you… is this–I mean, like, you…” Seungcheol only knows one thing for sure right now: you might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. “Jihoon!”

“Okay, you know what,” Jihoon’s voice comes through the intercom. You both turn towards it. “How about you two go home and figure out some way to work together instead of wasting my studio time. Write one song, just one, together, and the rest of us can go from there tomorrow.”

He slips a curse between a breath.

“Okay?”

You and Seungcheol look back at each other. It’s you who speaks first this time. “That’s fine with me.”

—

It’s a nice day out today. The sun shines through big clouds. There’s a nice breeze, and the roadways are empty. You’re sitting in the passenger seat humming something he can’t hear over the wind while Seungcheol drives. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know where he’s heading, but it might be the first time he's felt some semblance of peace with you around.

The announcer on the radio station introduces the next song. Seungcheol turns it up and sings alongside Kim Mingyu’s voice. You stop humming.

“You like this song?” You ask.

He quickly glances at you. “Yeah, who doesn’t.” The song was insanely popular a year or two ago. If you didn’t like it at first, you heard it enough on the radio and in every store until you did. Although, it doesn’t actually take anyone very many listens to fall in love with it. Unfortunately, the rest of Kim Mingyu’s songs never quite lived up to this one.

“I wrote this song.” You say to him, as if it’s the most simple thing.

“Oh, really?” Seungcheol replies with a chuckle. “You worked with Kim Mingyu?”

“Well, not all of it, but the melody and most of the lyrics, yes.” You tell him seriously, like you haven’t even registered that he thought you were joking. “I mean, worked is a strong word, but we did date for a bit.”

Seungcheol stops at a red light and spends it staring you in disbelief.

“Come on,” you say after a moment, “you really think Kim Mingyu wrote this song?”

Seungcheol listens to it again: They could never get it out of their heads. Like a scene on repeat. Like a mountain falling. Something unforgettable, but forgotten still. Something like you. Someone like me.

And instantly, it clicks–of course you wrote this song. Of course it’s the case that Kim Mingyu’s best song and one of Seungcheol’s favorites was written by none other than you.

He looks over at you while at another light. Your head leans back against the car seat, and your arm hangs over the edge of the open window. You don’t look like you’re enjoying listening to the song even if you are the one that wrote it. In fact, you look mildly annoyed, nose scrunched while inspecting your nail beds, teeth grinding.

Seungcheol changes the station thinking: why’d you let him take it?

Before he can really think about it any further, you sit up in your seat and point at the next light.

“Turn right up there. I know a place.”

—

When you had said that you knew a place, Seungcheol imagined that it’d be a coffee shop or an empty bar or anything other than the middle of the woods sitting on the rocks along a stream.

Although, he must give you credit: the setting you’ve taken him to is beautiful. There are birds humming and life strumming all around you. The water is a blistering blue that glistens and shines in the sunlight streaming through the trees like a million coins falling from the sky. The water has a small current running through it, and it beats against the rocks lightly, like the lightest, most gentle drum beat. The breeze is nice and cool on Seungcheol’s skin, sifting through his hair and past his limbs. And maybe the best part is how all around him, on every single side, he’s surrounded by green.

It would have been perfect, if not for the fact that you and him have been here for two hours and still have absolutely nothing.

“Okay,” you relent, after he turns down another one of your ideas for a song, “how about this melody?”

You start humming one of the worst melodies Seungcheol’s ever heard in his life.

“Absolutely not.”

You grunt frustrated, arms falling through the air. Your head follows suit, settling in your hands, face buried from his view.

“Why’d you even say yes to this?” You snap, looking up at him after a moment, brows furrowed and hands gesturing vaguely in the air. “If you have no intention of taking any idea I give you seriously, why did you say yes to this?”

“I didn’t.” Seungcheol reminds you. “Neither of us did. Jihoon kicked us out of the studio.”

“I don’t mean that.” You flare. “I mean letting me in to do this album with the Numbers. Why’d you agree to it?”

There’s a change in the wind. A sudden quietness that must be attributed to some insect dying. Seungcheol hadn’t expected you to ask this. He hadn’t even expected you to think it.

“It wasn’t…” he starts, looking for the words in the space between you and him. He looks up at you, hoping to find them there. Instead he finds hope in them.

Seungcheol has been in this exact spot before–sitting in front of someone that wants to believe in him and is asking him to give them a reason. He’s seen this before, and he has no interest in repeating his past mistakes. He sees no need to add you to the list of people he’s disappointed. With a short laugh, he says, “You know what, let’s just get back to writing.”

“Fuck that.” You respond immediately, grabbing at his guitar.

“What are you–”

“No. Fuck that.” You repeat, successfully pushing his guitar off his lap. “If this is going to work, you have to at least pretend like you trust me. Song writing isn’t just strumming on your guitar all day and hoping for the best. It’s vulnerability, and it’s pouring your heart and soul and life into something and praying that someone out there feels the same way. That’s what ‘Begin Again’ was. And every single person who listened and liked that song and every single person who sang with us at the festival is saying that they feel the same way. So, what are you so afraid of? Why do you feel like you can’t trust me?”

Seungcheol gulps. “Which question should I answer first?”

You inhale slowly. “The latter.”

Seungcheol just shakes his head. “I don’t know you.”

“Ask me then.” You say desperately, like it should have been obvious to him, “whatever it is that you want to know just ask it.”

Seungcheol nods. In truth, there’s a million questions he wants to ask you about everything, but at this moment, all those questions sink to the bottom of his mind and only one rises to the top and travels to the tip of his tongue. “Why’d you let Kim Mingyu take credit for that song?”

You lean back slightly at his questions. Looking away from him and towards the murky waters before answering. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always like this.” You tell him, laughing lightly. “I used to let guys like you walk all over me.”

His heart jumps into his throat. He’s barely able to choke out a, “guys like me?”

You nod, still refusing to meet his eyes. “Guys who don’t believe that I have what it takes.”

“I never said that.”

“But you showed me.”

“When?”

You look at him then, squinting. He hopes what you see is genuineness. He asked the question sincerely. “When you were so quick and ready to dismiss my changes to the lyrics during the ‘Begin Again’ takes. When you let me join your band on this album, and then expected me to sing an entire record full of songs that mean nothing to me. I’m a songwriter, Seungcheol. It’s the one thing about me that no one can take.”

Something between intrigue and malice slips in behind his tongue. “So what can people take?”

You shake your head, smiling ever so slightly. “My turn. What are you so afraid of?”

Seungcheol inhales sharply. “Well, I’m afraid of dying and of heights and–”

“Stop that.” You cut in, like you really mean it. “Why are you so afraid to say what you really think?”

He sucks in his bottom lip, shrugging. “‘Begin Again’ was your song more than it was mine. What if people don’t like what I have to say? What if they can’t relate and just think I’m fucked up and crazy?”

Your eyes soften, and your smile lines deepen. It takes a moment for him to register that you're smiling, really smiling, at him. He’s never known a smile could feel so inviting.

“But what if they do?”

Seungcheol takes a moment to think about what you’ve said. And in that moment, whatever insect had died gets resurrected, returning to nature’s hum, filling his ears. Seungcheol looks all around him. The hum of life, the beat of water, the tune of leaves falling. He’s surrounded not just by nature and greenery, but also by music. And it’s erupting from every corner of these woods.

His eyes finally land on you.

“I think I found our melody.”

When you come into the studio the next day, the song is done. You went to sleep humming it still and running through the lyrics over and over again in your head.

“Let us sing it for you first,” Seungcheol suggests to the rest of the band with Jihoon listening in from the control room. “And whenever you feel like you got it, just hop in with what you think works, and we can refine and shape it from there.”

You watch the rest of the band as Seungcheol explains it. Minghao looks shocked, but excited. Soonyoung looks proud. And you can’t really read what the other two are thinking.

“Jihoon, are we good?” Seungcheol asks, turning around to the window into the control room.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Jihoon replies, voice filtering in through the intercom. You nod. Seungcheol nods. The rest of the band nods. Jihoon presses a couple buttons and says, “This is ‘Can You See Me’.”

Seungcheol starts playing the chords he found yesterday. You’re not sure why or how but it reminds you of those woods. His voice starts singing the first line of the song. You close your eyes and take it in. You join him for the chorus, singing alongside his voice feeling the words flow. It’s Junhui that joins you two first, playing a couple loose notes, testing things out. By the end of the chorus, he’s found it, playing a little more confidently and adding a whole new level of depth to the song. A depth that makes you feel like you’ve only ever known two colors your whole life and in a matter of seconds Junhui added in a third. Joshua joins in next, as your voice takes over for the second verse, playing off what Seungcheol was playing but making it his own. Seungcheol goes over to where Soonyoung’s sitting and says something to him in his ear. Soonyoung nods. Seungcheol goes over to Minghao, but Minghao shakes his head, already starting to play something. Seungcheol heads back to his mic right before the second chorus starts. You turn and sing the last line of the pre-chorus to him

And I know that you never trusted me.

He joins you for the chorus, singing back.

Can you see me standing from there? And can you see the blood on my hands? If I give you all of the parts to my heart, Will you care that I’ve been scarred and stitched up?

Soonyoung starts playing then, the drums filling in the last thing the song needed. You listen to the rest of the band play and marvel at how insanely talented they all are to pick up and play something that actually works after only a minute of hearing it. The song needs polishing, yes, but it’s got a good sound and it’s heading in the right direction.

You don’t take your eyes off Seungcheol, and he doesn’t take his eyes off you. And for the remainder of the song, you sing to each other.

The song ends. The last one playing is Junhui. And for a couple seconds, no one says anything.

It’s Jihoon’s voice that comes out of the silence first. “I’m a fucking genius.”

You smile at Seungcheol. He smiles back.

After recording and polishing ‘Can You See Me’, you and Seungcheol fall into a song-making rhythm of sorts.

(We don’t always have it perfect.)

“I feel like this lyric in ‘Puzzle Pieces’ doesn’t fit.” You say to Seungcheol, before muttering the lyric outloud. “It’s too shy. I don’t know. I just think it’s missing the mark a little bit, don’t you think?”

Seungcheol groans tiredly. “God, I can’t think about this anymore. Can we take a break? Go get some food or something?”

“Yes, but before we do, do you think ‘I see us standing in the distance’ or ‘I see you standing in the distance’ works better here?”

Seungcheol just stands ignoring your question and muttering ‘no’ repeatedly.

You follow, running after him and begging him to listen.

(Boy, do we fight.)

“I think there should be more drums in the hook.” Seungcheol announces after the third run through.

“Why?”

His eyes widen, sarcastically. “Because there should be.”

“Don’t do that.” You scoff, used to his antics. “Answer the question: why?”

He sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “It’s missing something. The song still feels empty. I mean, the lyrics allude to a love that’s blooming and growing between two individuals, but nothing behind the lyrics build up with it. There’s almost a disconnect between the words and the music.”

“I disagree.”

He scoffs. “All that for–”

“I think it works just fine without the drums, and if you add the drums it’ll become more suspenseful. The song is supposed to feel like falling.”

He shakes his head. “It’s supposed to feel like butterflies.”

“It’s supposed to feel like peace.”

(Sometimes you win.)

“Let’s vote.” Seungcheol suggests. “If you’re for the drums, raise your hand.”

Only Soonyoung (the drummer), does.

(Sometimes you lose.)

Jihoon presses the red button on the sound board, announcing to the recording stage, “Take 3 of Aurora. Seungcheol, try softening your voice a little for this one.”

“Jihoon, can we just try one take with me in it?” You ask him. “I think even if I were just singing a harmony or in the background of the bridge, it would add so much.”

“No.” Jihoon says, scribbling something down in his notebook. “I’m with Seungcheol on this one.”

“Jihoon, you haven’t even heard my–”

“This song doesn’t need your voice.”

(But sometimes, we get it just right and fit like the last two puzzle pieces.)

“No,” you say, shaking your head as Joshua and Minghao finish off the last chords of the song, “It needs to sound murkier.”

Joshua, Junhui, Soonyoung, and Minghao just stare at you blankly.

“Less cymbals, Soonyoung.” Seungcheol says over the speaker from the control room. “And Minghao, ride out the low tones more.”

You turn and see him. He catches your eyes, smiling slightly, reassuring you. Like he gets you.

From behind you, you hear Junhui lightheartedly mutter, “since when do they have their own language?”

Joshua and Soonyoung laugh, but you barely notice because you see him. You see the way his brows furrow when he’s thinking. You see the way he sticks out his tongue when he’s focused. You see all of it.

And for a moment, he sees you. All of you. And he doesn’t turn away from it.

Today’s songwriting session quickly turned into a field trip from the studio to grab food which then turned into you leading Seungcheol’s car to the beach. You and Seungcheol sit on a stone ledge, right where the sand begins, 20 paces away from the ocean. Between you sits leftover fries and your untouched song notebook. You watch the sun dip into the sea and listen to the waves crash over and over again. The wind pushes furiously, tossing his hair to the side and pushes his head away from it. It just so happens that away from the wind means towards you.

“So,” you begin, popping a fry in your mouth and dusting the salt off your hands, “when are you going to answer my question of why you let me in the band?”

Seungcheol figured this question was coming. He’s been avoiding answering it. “You really want to know?”

You look at him sincerely. “Yes.”

Seungcheol looks out to the water. “After our first album, Jihoon prepared a tour for us. It was this tiny tour, not even big enough for a tour manager. We played in the smallest venues with okay-sized crowds. I mean, it was barely a tour, really more of a way to get our name out there. And after the northern leg of it, I…” Seungcheol closes his eyes and sees moments from that tour flash behind his lids: strobe lights, bodies in bed, empty glasses, and negative pockets. Sometimes memories can feel like nightmares. “I was just in a really, really, bad place. By the time we were halfway down the east coast, I was barely even able to play. Jihoon saved me then. He saved my fucking life. But he had to cancel the rest of the tour in that process. The rest of the band, man, they couldn’t even stand the sight of my face. Minghao especially. It was Jihoon who ended up being the one to convince them to let me back in. I owe Jihoon my entire livelihood and my life. So when he asked what I thought about you joining the band for this album and when I saw how badly he wanted it to happen, I owed it to him to say yes.”

It’s been so long since he’s recounted that story, even to himself. It doesn’t hurt as much as it once did. That knowledge surprises him.

“Where are you now?” You ask suddenly, pulling him out of his head.

He turns to you. “What?”

“If you were in a bad place then, where are you now?”

The wind quiets for a moment; he feels a warmth overtake him in its absence. “Someplace better.”

He looks down, not even noticing the smile growing on his face, and catches sight of your notebook. He points at it, asking, “may I?”

You look down at it as well, grabbing another fry. “Sure.”

He flips through the pages of your notebook. The first half isn’t even songs. It’s snippets, words, singular sentences taking up an entire page. It’s only halfway through the book that it actually turns into something that could be called songwriting. He asks you about it.

“Ah, that’s when I met Jihoon.” You tell him, smiling fondly. Seungcheol puts the notebook down and waits for you to explain. “Before him, I had songs, but they weren’t real songs, you know? They were just some combination of all the snippets and sentences I had written down. But then Jihoon heard me play at the Eastern, and said that I had a good voice. He asked if he could give me his card so that we could talk more, and I said that I wasn’t interested in people who only saw me for my voice and walked away.”

“You’re insane.” Seungcheol mutters, baffled. He remembers the chance encounter he had with Jihoon right after he and the band moved down here to make a name for themselves. He remembers how hard he begged for the same chance Jihoon offered to you so simply. “So, how’d you end up working with him then?”

“He found me again at the diner I used to work at after that. I told him I still wasn’t interested, and he asked if I had written the song I played that night at the Eastern. I said yes, and he said that he was only interested in my voice because my songs weren’t there yet.”

Seungcheol chuckles. “So he’s always been an asshole then?”

“Oh yeah.” You nod, mirroring the sound. “He was an asshole about it, but he was right. And it was the first time that someone believed in me enough to think that I could be better. That is what made me want to try and write a song that would make him see that I’m as good of a songwriter as I am a singer. I spent a lot of time working and got out one good song. I sang it all across the strip. He finally saw me play again at Ben’s Garage. I let him sign me after that.”

“What was that song about?”

Your lips do this half frown thing that makes Seungcheol want to peer inside your brain and figure out exactly where it came from. “It was about what all songs are about.”

“Which is?”

You look at him like it’s obvious. “Love.”

It feels like a shot of sunlight through his veins.

Seungcheol drives you back home after the beach. You had gotten nothing done in terms of the album, but you felt happy, and you felt free. You watch him from the corner of your eye. You’ve only known each other for some months now, but it feels like so much longer. You’ve told him more about yourself and your past than anyone else you’ve met in your adult life. You’ve told him your deepest worries and darkest secrets, and he never turned away from you, not once. Instead he took your insecurities and turned them into beautiful melodies. He turned all your doubts into celebrations of hope. And he did it for you.

Suddenly, it no longer feels like you only met him when you recorded ‘Begin Again’ together. Suddenly, it feels like you’ve known him since you were a teenager and like you’ve been in love with him ever since. Your palms start to sweat. Your heart sinks past your lungs. Is it all those goddamn fries or him that’s making your stomach turn?

He turns onto your street. This is it, you think to yourself. This is everything I’ve been waiting for.

He walks you to your door, and you stand facing each other on your porch.

“This was nice.” You tell him, taking another step towards him.

“It was.” He mumbles, a lazy smile on his face.

You take another step towards him. He doesn’t move back. His mouth parts. You watch his lips, trace them with your gaze. You think about what it would feel like to kiss them.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” The words come flying out of your mouth involuntarily. You barely register that you’ve said them. They didn’t come from your mind but from a tiny spot deep in your gut where the urge to take another step towards him lies. You give into that urge without thinking twice about it. You’re closer to him than you’ve been in months. The last time you were this close being that moment on stage during the ‘Begin Again’ performance. You’re surprised you remember that. His breaths then were ragged, uneven. His breaths now are barely there, like he isn’t even breathing. You can smell the mint he popped in his mouth when you left from the beach. You can smell whatever perfume he must’ve sprayed on his neck this morning.

And you’re so wholly aware of the fact that his eyes are looking at your lips.

He turns away from you and glances at your door, saying, “I should go.”

You feel something in your chest sink and sink and sink.

“I’ll see you in the studio tomorrow.” He continues. “We still gotta help Junhui figure out his part for ‘Puzzle Pieces’.”

And with that he’s off, and you’re left standing on the porch alone wondering how someone can look at you like that and then just leave. You look down by your feet and see your heart sitting there, next to your shoes. You leave it there and head it inside.

The next day, Jihoon cancels your studio time without explanation and reschedules you and the band for the following day.

When that day finally does come, Seungcheol doesn’t show up on time to help you and Junhui figure out the right notes to play for the song you wrote together like he said. Instead, he stumbles into the studio late with a song in his hand wearing the same clothes he wore with you at the beach. And that alone, feels like a betrayal of some sort.

“What’s it about?” Joshua asks.

He looks around the room, excited. “It’s about my new partner.”

You feel the urge to vomit all over the recording stage.

—

Jeonghan, it turns out, is Seungcheol’s partner’s name. Seungcheol had brought him into the studio a week after they started dating, and he’s been coming routinely ever since. As much as you hate it and as much as it makes your heart bend and break, Seungcheol looks really, genuinely happy with him. You wonder if he ever looked like that with you.

You really wish you hated Jeonghan, but you don’t. He’s actually quite nice and gets along with the whole band so easily. He even makes friends with Jihoon. You thought he might be a distraction to Seungcheol while writing and recording, but Seungcheol is more focused and productive and creative than ever. The song he wrote right after meeting him is good, like stupidly good. There isn’t a single word in it that needs changing.

With your help, Seungcheol writes another song about him, called ‘Light of My Life.’ It’s while writing that song that you find out that Jeonghan was never a stranger, and that day after the beach was not their first meeting. It’s Soonyoung who tells you how Jeonghan is from their hometown and how Seungcheol and Jeonghan used to date.

The day that you record ‘Light of My Life’ Jeonghan is also in the studio, sitting in the control room and laughing at something with Hansol.

You light up my life even when it’s dark. You both sing together. It’s an acoustic song; only Joshua stands behind you guys strumming the chords on his guitar. The rest of the band didn’t even come in today. You color my world even when I’m feeling blue. You glance over at Seungcheol. He isn’t looking your way. He’s looking at Jeonghan through the control room window. When I’m with you, I never feel alone. You think about the times when he used to look at you while recording. When you hold me, baby, I feel at home. Jeonghan looks back at Seungcheol. It hits you how beautiful he is, with his dyed silver hair and slender face. You don’t blame Seungcheol for writing such a beautiful song about him. You don’t blame yourself for helping him. I can’t believe this has happened to me. Seungcheol wrote this song for Jeonghan, but he wasn’t the only writer on this song. Right before the next line, Seungcheol finally finally turns and looks at you. I feel alive because of you.

Seungcheol turns back to the control room, and for the rest of the song, you wonder that if Seungcheol wrote this song for Jeonghan, who the hell did you write this song for?

—

A tune comes to you while you drive home that night. You scribble down a couple lyrics in your notebook as soon as you walk through your door.

Silver hair. Silver skin. Sliver of my heart you took with him.

Joshua throws a party that weekend. A housewarming for the house he bought with the ‘Begin Again’ checks. Stepping in through the foyer, you question whether you should be buying a house too. You forget that thought by the time you reach the drinks table.

After your hellos to the rest of the band and all the small talk with people Joshua wanted to introduce you to, you end up standing alone in his backyard, sloshing around the dark liquid in your cup. Truthfully, you’ve barely left your apartment all week. You hadn’t been in the mood for a party. But it’s nice out here. The air is fresh and crisp. The lights, which Soonyoung and Minghao enthusiastically and drunkenly told you they helped put up, are warm but not too bright. You imagine you’ll stay out here for the rest of the party.

“Hi,” you hear a voice say from behind you. You turn around only to find Jeonghan. You hope your face doesn’t betray you when you greet him back. “What are you doing out here?”

You gulp down a bitter sip of your drink. “Just wanted some quiet.”

“Same. Junhui started doing karaoke again.”

“Oof.” You groan sympathetically. “Already?”

He just nods with a laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen all of them.”

You like Jeonghan. You really do. It’s just taken you until now to realize that you don’t really know him apart from small talk in the studio and the two songs Seungcheol wrote about him. “When did you move down here from your guys’ hometown?”

“Oh.” His chin juts out a bit. “I moved down with the band actually.”

You don’t hide the surprise on your face.

“I take it no one told you that then.” Jeonghan chuckles darkly. You shake your head. “Uh, well, yeah,” he continues, shoving his free hand into his pocket, “Seungcheol and I started dating right when the band formed. I used to do the photography for them. And when they proposed moving out here, I thought I ought to come with. And I did.” He gulps his drink. “It was good for a while. Really fun in the beginning. But then I got my job taking pictures for the paper, and they were doing the album. And well,” he looks at you like you already know what he’s about to say. You don’t. “It already wasn’t really working anymore by the time the album was finished. And then they went on tour…”

He leaves that part blank. But based on what you heard from Seungcheol about that first tour, you can piece together what might’ve happened. You question whether Jeonghan left that empty to spare Seungcheol or to spare himself. Then you question how he knew you knew about it.

“Oh.” Is all you say. You don’t ask about when they encountered each other again. You don’t want to hear it.

“You know,” Jeonghan begins again, “I actually used to watch you play at the Tabernacle.”

You groan immediately. You only ever played at the Tabernacle when you first started. You cringe thinking about what you might’ve sang on stage in front of him. “Oh my god. I’m so embarrassed to even think about those days.”

“No! Don’t be!” He reassures, kindly. “You were really good. I especially liked that one song that went like… The days were wide open, as far as the eye could see.”

Your heart nearly soars straight out of your body. You had forgotten about this song. You used to love it dearly. You join Seungcheol’s boyfriend for the second line.

The world was mine to take, but I’ve never been good at accepting things.

“You and the band together,” Jeonghan says a moment after you both stop singing, “it’s magical, don’t get me wrong, but that song,” he smiles at you, “it’s a damn good song.”

You can’t help but smile back. “Thank you.”

“Cheol showed me a couple of the songs from the album.” Jeonghan mentions, and it instantly and heartbreakingly reminds you who you’re talking to. You hate that he has a nickname for him. “They’re amazing.” You look at him. He seems genuine. “They’re so good and real and raw that it almost makes me wonder…” his voice tapers off, losing the sound to a small exhale that appears as if it was meant to be a laugh, “Nevermind.”

“What?” You poke, instinctively leaning in towards him.

He meets your eyes, creases running along his forehead and frown lines more prominent than ever. “It almost makes me wonder if there was something between you both.”

You swallow, pointing at your chest. Your voice comes out raspy without you meaning for it to. “Me and Seungcheol?”

He nods. “Yeah, I mean the lyrics in ‘Begin Again’—“

“That song’s not about me. Or about him.” You defend. “We didn’t even know each other when we wrote that.”

“What about ‘Can You See Me’?”

Your breath catches. Truthfully, you answer, “I don’t know what that song’s about.”

—

When you get home that night, you finish the song you started writing about Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

When you breathe in his lips, do you think of mine? What kind of songs were we making? Were they all lies?

“What’s it called?” The question comes from Soonyoung.

You look up from the paper in your hands filled with the lyrics you had completed over the weekend and after Joshua’s party. You notice he looks sad. You turn your gaze to Minghao. You can’t really tell what he’s thinking in that moment.

“Uhm–I don’t know. I haven’t thought of a title yet.”

Seungcheol walks in then. “What are you guys talking about?” He asks, setting down his stuff. Then, more to himself than to you guys, he murmurs, “And where are Junhui and Josh?”

Soonyoung and Minghao don’t say anything. Instead, when Seungcheol asks what you’re doing, they both look at you. You imagine even if Junhui and Joshua were here, they’d do the same. Have you really been this transparent? At what point did they put together all the pieces?

You hand Seungcheol the song. You have no idea what his reaction will be.

He just nods, like he has no idea what the song is about. Like he doesn’t see his name and Jeonghan’s scribbled in the margins.

“Call it ‘Silver Lies’.” He says.

Minghao makes a noise. “Call it ‘Silver Linings’.”

“Vote on it?” Seungcheol proposes.

“No.” You look at Minghao. He stares back at you. Something unspoken lies in the space between. “We’ll call it ‘Silver Linings’.”

A party rages around you. Flashing teeth and flashing lights. Another drink, another riff. You don’t even know where you are right now. You remember coming home after working on ‘Silver Linings’; you remember wanting to forget your own mind. This is the only way you know how.

You don’t even know how long it’s been.

This is what you do know: You’re sitting by a pool. Your feet are wet. You haven’t been this drunk since your 18th birthday. Choi Seungcheol is standing across the pool from you.

Your face breaks out in a smile. Sober you will regret that. Sober you will also regret how your first thought is that he looks beautiful. You’ll regret the fact that you finally, drunkenly but honestly, admit to yourself how pretty you think he is, how you’ve thought so since your first time hearing him sing, and how you’ve been so painfully aware of it ever since.

You let yourself fall in the water. Head sinking for a moment, before breaking the surface again. Floating on your back, you start humming the melody to ‘Silver Linings’ in your head.

Silver hair. Silver skin. Sliver of my heart you took with him.

You can’t tell if it’s the chlorine or something more pathetic that burns the corner of your eyes and runs down the side of your cheeks.

You feel something tug on your arm. The sudden jolt makes you lose your balance, falling beneath the water. You’re so fucking wasted you forget if you even know how to swim; you almost forget to not breathe.

You feel a pair of arms pull you up and hold your head above the surface. You know who they belong to. It strikes you in the back of your mind that this is the first time you’ve been touched by him. So maybe that’s why you relish in the feel of his arms around your waist and the way his hand grips at your hip.

He looks at you like you’re filth. Just as all your partners before him did. First they’re sweet and charming, but it always ends like this. In their arms, simultaneously wanting to be far away and fighting the urge to beg: love me, please.

Even if he wasn’t your partner, even if all he was was a hope and a ‘what if’.

You barely even register it when you say, “you're just like the rest of them.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He rages back, not even acknowledging what you said.

“Nothing.” You tell him, smiling, wishing like hell that you believed it.

“You missed our studio time. We were supposed to record ‘Silver Linings’.” He fumes at you. “Do you know what time it is? Do you even know what day it is?”

“Do you know how much of a fucking mood kill you can be?” You bite back.

“What are you on?” He looks repulsed. You hate it. Hate the way that you showed him your whole heart and that he still looks at you like this.

Seething, you say, “What do you think?”

And that—that is what breaks him. What makes him lose his shit and start screaming.

“Jihoon is fuming at us!”

You barely notice it. Instead, you repeat in your head the words to the one song you truly, wholeheartedly wrote for him.

“The record label isn’t going to let this slide, you do realize that, don’t you?”

When you breathe in his lips, do you think of mine?

“You wasted an entire day of recording!”

What kind of songs were we making?

“No.” You say finally, voice coming out quiet. It sounds so misplaced and so wrong next to all the yelling between you two. “We wasted so much more than that.”

Were they all lies?

For the first time since you’ve seen him tonight, he doesn’t say anything back. He just stares at you, like he can see straight through. The party continues all around you. It never stopped. It never quieted down. And yet, it somehow feels like you and him are the only ones in this pool. Like you’re stuck in time. Like you’ve created your own world with him and that’s where you’ve retreated to now.

“Was any of it real?” You ask before you can stop the words. You hate how pathetic you sound. You hate how desperate it all is.

All he says before leaving you in the water alone is: “I’m with Jeonghan now.”

He splashes water in your face on his way out.

When Seungcheol walks into the studio, you’re already there, talking with Jihoon and someone else he doesn’t recognize.

“Hello.” He says cautiously to the group.

The man says hi back. You don’t look at him. Jihoon is the one that finally explains.

“Seungcheol, hey, this is Wonwoo. He’s from the paper, The Stones, and he’s going to be doing a piece on the band and the creation of the album. It’ll be an inside look into the process of making an album and a bit about the band itself.”

“Hey, man,” Seungcheol greets properly, extending his hand to shake. Wonwoo fumbles with a place to set down the pen and notebook in his hand for a second, before shaking it. Seungcheol doesn’t miss the way you scoff under your breath. “Wonwoo, right?” The reporter nods. “Anything you want us to do for you or for the piece?”

“No. Not at all.” He shakes his head profusely. “Just keep working on the album as you would normally. I might pop in here and there with questions, but other than that, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

Seungcheol smiles brightly. “Well, you’re in for a treat today because we have a song to record.”

For the first time that day and for the first time since that night in the pool, you look at him. “No, we don’t.” He wonders if you remember that night, what you said to him, what he said back.

“Actually,” he reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of paper he’s been working on for the past two days. He hands it to you. “We do.”

You read the lyrics silently for a moment, then frowning, you read them aloud. “I’m used to making games out of broken hearts. Silly me for trying to play around with yours.”

Wonwoo makes a noise. “Damn. I wonder who that’s about.”

You snap, whipping back around to Wonwoo. “What happened to ‘it’ll be like I’m not even here’?”

He mutters an apology and quickly scribbles something down in his notebook. You turn back to Seungcheol. “I’m not singing that.”

He ignores you and looks at Jihoon. “Let me see the song.”

You extend the paper out to him without taking your eyes off of Seungcheol. In Jihoon’s defense, he’s been working the hardest to keep the peace as early as when you recorded ‘Being Again’ together. Nonetheless, your face still morphs from hurt to angry. Seungcheol doesn’t blame you, but he also doesn’t really give a fuck.

Jihoon, sounding more exhausted than Seungcheol has ever heard him sound before, only sighs. “How about we just try the song?”

—

Recording first starts with the instrumentals. The rest of the band recording their parts exactly as Seungcheol heard it in his head.

Finally, with the rest of it recorded, he focuses on vocals.

He only wants you singing it.

“Take one of...” Jihoon starts, speaking through the intercom. “What’s it called again?”

Seungcheol answers: “‘We Are Not Done.’”

You’re the only one in the recording stage. Seungcheol sits in the control room with Jihoon, Hansol, and Wonwoo. The rest of the band is either home, in the lobby, or behind him in the control room. Seungcheol’s already demonstrated for you the general beat of the lyrics against the instrumental. You still hold the lyrics up behind the mic, brows furrowed at them.

“Pour me a drink I–for all…” Normally, you’re a picture of confidence in the recording studio, but your first attempt to sing the song is an absolute train wreck.

Seungcheol reaches over Jihoon’s shoulder and presses the red button. “Cut. What’s going on?”

You look through the window, exasperated. “I don’t get it. The words, they just–”

“It’s–Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.” Seungcheol demonstrates again. “I can’t live with myself half past 12–and it’s just like that for this whole verse.” He waits a moment. “Good?”

You stare at the lyrics, brows still scrunched together. “Yea.”

“Okay. Take two.”

You sing: “Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.” Your voice is timid, almost. Seungcheol’s never heard you sound or act anything close to timid before. “I can’t live with myself half past 12.”

“Cut.” Seungcheol stops you again. “You have to sound larger than life singing, like you don’t care if people see how fucked up you are.”

“Excuse me?” You nearly scream at him.

“I’m talking about the song.”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Take 3.”

You look mad now. At least that will be closer to what Seungcheol wants. “Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.”

“Cut.” Seungcheol can see you biting your tongue. “Sing it looser. Less restrained. Don’t worry about hitting the notes. Take 4.”

“Pour me a drink for all the fools–”

“Cut.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Even looser. Take 5.”

“Pour me a drink f–”

“Cut. Let your voice get ‘ugly’. Take 6.”

“Pour me–”

“Cut!”

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: So, Seungcheol, I remember there being an impossible number of takes for the track ‘We Are Not Done’, specifically for the vocals. In the end, How’d you get them to sing like… that?

Seungcheol: Sometimes all it takes is a little push

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: ‘We Are Not Done’ is such a force of nature. How’d you end up singing it like that?”

You: Well, let’s just say that Seungcheol is really good at what he does.

Wonwoo: And what does he do?

You: He inspires.

—

The red light flashes again. “Take 32.”

The only thought you have when the blue recording light turns back on is that you fucking hate Choi Seungcheol, but you still want him and you hate that he knows that.

The track starts.

Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me. I can’t live with myself half past 12. I’m used to making games out of broken hearts. Silly me for trying to play around with yours. I know you’re with someone new, But is that really true If you’re still thinking of my kiss and my tongue? I’m your wildest dream. I’m your best nightmare. You and me, baby, we are not done.

You’re beyond pissed driving home from the studio that day.

The first fucking day with the reporter and Seungcheol chose to make you look like an idiot. He chose to make you sing that song with Wonwoo sitting behind, taking it all in.

Not to mention that that was the first time you’ve seen him since he showed up at the party while you were trying to get over him the only way you know how. When he held you in his arms, made you feel so stupidly warm, and then left with someone else’s name on his lips.

You hate Seungcheol. Maybe joining the band wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth him.

Your vision goes red and all you can think is: isn’t he over this yet? Aren’t I?

Suddenly, there’s a bang. A puff of smoke. The airbag releases. Your entire body clenches, lurching forward and then back again harshly.

A crash, you register belatedly, staring at the hood of your car folded up like a piece of paper.

Paper.

You dig inside your glove box for your notebook and shove your hand in the space between the passenger seat and the center console to find a pen.

“What the fuck?” The man from the car you hit screams, stepping out of his car.

You ignore it. A song, you had it just then. You had it.

“You hit me!” He yells again, getting closer.

Your pen hits the paper, and it doesn’t stop until the song is on it. Not even when you notice blood drip. Not even when the man starts banging on your window.

Is it over now? Do you have the guts? To call it quits, baby, Say I’ve had enough. Is it over now? Can we say the words? I used to love you, Now I’m not sure.

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: What’s it been like working with the band? From ‘Begin Again’ to now?”

You: Oh, well, ‘Begin Again’ was a totally different story. I wasn’t really part of the group or anything. I was more just an outsider that Jihoon and the label had brought in. I changed up most of the lyrics, but the song was never really mine. I think it’s taken me a while to realize that. But, now, I mean, working on the album together couldn’t be more different. Seungcheol and I co-write almost all of the songs. It’s been a much more collaborative project compared to ‘Begin Again’. It’s been exhausting and tiring and life-consuming, but um, it’s been a lot of fun.

Wonwoo: So, going back a bit, if you rewrote all of the lyrics to ‘Begin Again’, how is it not your song?

You: Seungcheol already had some lyrics written for that song. I was just the one to figure out what he was really trying to say with them.

Wonwoo: Hm

Wonwoo: So what’s it been like working with Seungcheol?

You: Well, it definitely wasn’t easy at first.

Wonwoo: Why not?

You: I think we were both just used to writing alone. We learned a lot in those first couple writing sessions, and I think we’ve both grown a lot since then.

Wonwoo: What’d you learn?

You: We’re very similar people. We think about love very similarly. We have fought the same battles, and we’re both able to turn our pain and struggling into something beautiful.

Wonwoo: How would you describe you and Seungcheol’s personal relationship?

You: What do you mean?

Wonwoo: Friends, lovers, enemies, etc.

You: We have chemistry, but

You:

You: But I think that to write together there has to be love. What else would all the songs be about?

Wonwoo: Is that what ‘Can You See Me’ is about? Love?

You: That’s for each listener to figure out for themselves.

Wonwoo: You also said that you co-wrote most of the songs with Seungcheol.

You: Yes.

Wonwoo: So, did you guys co-write ‘We Are Not Done’ and ‘Is It Over Now?’?

You:

Wonwoo: No need to go into details if you’re not comfortable. I’m only really looking for a yes or a no.

You: It–

You: It’s not as simple as a yes or a no.

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: What’s it been like working with someone else for the song writing on this album?

Seungcheol: It’s been hard. There’s a lot of push and pull for each word in each song, but I think at the end of the day, we’ve been able to put together an almost complete record of songs that we’re both proud of.

Wonwoo: It’s been said that the two of you have chemistry–

Seungcheol: Who said that?

Wonwoo: –do you agree with that?

Seungcheol:

Seungcheol: It’s not what you think.

Wonwoo:

Seungcheol: Look, whatever chemistry people think there is between us, I mean, it–it’s for the music and for the songs, not for each other.

Wonwoo: Are you saying it’s all fake?

Seungcheol: No, but it’s not real life either.

Wonwoo: So you guys fabricated some of it to sell records?

Seungcheol: I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.

Wonwoo: Which is what?

Seungcheol: That there’s something between us romantically. There isn’t.

Wonwoo: Not even a little bit?

Seungcheol: Not even once.

The photo shoot for the album they decided should be in the desert. You’re not really sure why. Probably something to do with the desert show where you and the band first played together. You didn’t have a choice in the matter. If you did, you would have suggested the opposite. Maybe something on the shore. Nonetheless, you let them tell you where to sit and exactly how to do it.

The photographers look between each other after each flash of light in your face. Thank god they aren’t actors. You can read on their faces how much they hate each photo taken.

“You know what,” the head photographer says to the band, “let’s just take 5.”

You’re up immediately, walking away from the weird set they’ve put together and heading straight to the snack table. You say hi to Jeonghan standing there with a camera around his neck.

“Did the paper send you or did you come with Seungcheol?” You ask lightheartedly, picking at some grapes.

He laughs, fiddling with the lens. “No, not the paper. I just like to bring my camera with me sometimes. Plus,” he adds with a far off smile, looking up the hill at Joshua, Junhui, and Minghao talking, “reminds me of the old days.”

You look up past those three to where Soonyoung and Seungcheol are laughing at something you wish you were privy to. “I get that.”

“Actually, Seungcheol and I wanted to talk to you.” He says. His lips look pressed, eyes bright, fighting a smile but also fighting something else far beneath that. “Once the album wraps, we’re, uh, we’re gonna get married.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know. It was his idea, but I’m really excited about it too.” He tells you, abashedly. “We’re gonna keep it small, I think. Do it back in our hometown so that our families can be there and everything. I think most of the band is gonna travel back too to be there, and, uh, I know it would mean a lot to both of us if you were there too.”

You look at Jeonghan. You don’t really think he’s lying about the last part, but that still doesn’t make it any easier for you to swallow. “I don’t really know if that’s a good idea.”

“I do.” Jeonghan doesn’t falter. It reminds you of you before Seungcheol. You wonder where that version of you went. After a moment, his face softens, lips turning down a bit, but eyes looking as kind and as big as ever. You notice that his hair isn’t silver anymore.

“I know that it’s complicated between you and Seungcheol. And I’m not going to act like I get it because I don’t. But I like you and I know he loves you. If not for anything, then for this.” Jeonghan gestures to the shitty set they prepared. You look at it, chuckling. It’s shitty, yes. But Jeonghan’s right. This must’ve cost the label a fuck ton of money. “He and the band wouldn’t have any of this if not for you. You did that for them.”

You turn back to Jeonghan. Genuinely, you tell him, “Thank you.”

You open your arms to him. He welcomes it, hugging you back. You exhale. You can barely remember the last time you did.

“Congratulations, Jeonghan.” You feel him grin.

“Please come.” He requests.

You don’t know if you will. But you do know that you’re happy for him.

—

The next round of photos are no better than the last. You hope at least Jeonghan, who’s moved on to taking pictures of the scenery, is having a better shoot day than the label-hired photographers.

You find Seungcheol again during the next break, standing in the back at the top most part of the hill, sun shining down directly behind his head.

“Hey.” He says to you, not casually but not maliciously either.

You stop in front of him, just staring. Without you even meaning to, you frown. Seungcheol must notice. He tilts his head. “What’s up?”

You inhale sharply. “You’re getting married.”

His mouth opens, then closes. “I’m getting married.”

You shake your head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-it never..” He stops trying to find the words. You find that as more of an answer than anything he could’ve said. “I’m sorry.”

“Take me home.” You recite, thinking of the first window you ever had into Seungcheol’s heart. “Welcome me on those familiar roads. Embrace me in your arms. Oh please, tell me I still belong. It was always about him, wasn’t it?”

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything. You know him too well to think he would. Instead, he sucks in his bottom lip and turns his gaze to the ground. You bend your neck to see his face, see his red eyes. This is the only time you’ll have him like this again. This is it.

The only thing you have left to say to him is: “I hope you’re happy.”

—

When you go home that night, you drink yourself past consciousness. It’s only when you wake up with a pounding head the next morning do you see the song sitting next to you, written in sloppy, drunken handwriting.

Tell me was it worth all the pain Tell me would you do it over again Tell me was it worth the lights and your name Tell me was it worth the sound of my shame Tell me was it worth the album and the songs That I only sang thinking they were about us Tell me some it was true, not in my head Did we only kiss to sound how you wanted?

I know I’m not yours But let me your wildest dream You think of again On a bad night After a bad fight

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: Who wrote the last song on the album: ‘Not Yours’?

You: I did.

Wonwoo: When?

You: Right after the album cover shoot.

Wonwoo: What inspired it?

You: Well

You: I think that song had been singing in my heart for a while before I finally wrote it.

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: ‘Not Yours’ is such a heart-breaking song. What was it like recording it?

Seungcheol: Believe it or not, it was one of the easiest.

(Wonwoo’s interview with Jeonghan)

Wonwoo: It’s nice to finally meet you.

Jeonghan: You too. If I can be honest, I really didn’t expect to be called about this piece.

Wonwoo: Oh

Wonwoo: I just like to get all sides of it.

Jeonghan: Okay.

Wonwoo: I wanted to talk to you about the album photo shoot.

Jeonghan: Oh yeah of course.

Wonwoo: From my understanding, the picture that was chosen as the cover, was one that you took. Is that correct?

Jeonghan: Yeah. I took it during one of the breaks.

Jeonghan: I mean props to the photography team that was hired, I’m sure they’re amazing, but it wasn’t hard to tell that they were really struggling to photograph the band.

Jeonghan: I just happened to have my camera on me, and you know, I had photographed the band in the past, so I just kind of knew what to look for. And when I saw Seungcheol and them go off to the side to talk, my eyes just happened to follow them. And

Jeonghan: Well, I don’t know what they were talking about, but you can see it in the photo, you know?

Jeonghan: They’re looking at each other like it’s a very important conversion. And well, let’s just say that I know Seungcheol very well, and he’s never been a good actor, so it must have been. And, and the sky is so blue and so clear behind them which, I don’t know, to me sort of represents how there’s nothing coming between them in this moment either. There’s nothing that isn’t being said.

Jeonghan:

Jeonghan: When I saw that, I just knew I had to capture it.

Jeonghan:

Jeonghan: I had no idea that Jihoon would want to use it for the album cover. I wasn’t thinking like that.

Wonwoo: Was it weird at all?

Jeonghan: How so?

Wonwoo: To capture a picture of your finance and his bandmate looking at each other like that?

(Wonwoo’s interview with Jihoon)

Wonwoo: So does the album have a name?

Jihoon: Yeah. Of course.

Jihoon: Aurora

Wonwoo: Can you tell me anything about the band maybe going on tour?

Jihoon: Well, can’t say anything for sure yet, but there’s definitely been some talk from the label about it.

Wonwoo: If there were to be a tour, are you able to give us a sneak peek as to what it’ll be like?

Jihoon: Hmm

Jihoon: Did you happen to see the band play the festival in the desert?

Wonwoo: No, I did not.

Jihoon: Well, I’ll tell you what anyone who saw that show would say.

Wonwoo: Which is?

Jihoon: Get ready for the best fucking show of your life.

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: I heard most of the band is heading back to their hometown for the break.

You: Yeah, they are.

Wonwoo: Do you plan on joining them?

You: No.

You: I don’t think I will.

Wonwoo: What do you plan to do during your time off?

You: Well, I bought a one way ticket to Italy, so that should start something. Maybe I’ll go to Nepal or Japan or Brazil after that. I haven’t really decided yet.

Wonwoo: So, traveling.

You: Yeah, I guess.

You: Can you believe that the festival show we did is the farthest I’ve ever been from home?

You: It’s time I saw a little more of the world.

Wonwoo: The fans are really looking forward to a tour. Can you speak to when you will be coming back?

You:

You: Who’s to say I will?

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eatmangoesnekkid · 5 months ago

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I fall in love with songs. I repeat them over and over again. I have listened to a song 50 times back-to-back like a long journey of passionate lovemaking lasting for two days with meals and bath time included and opened magical portals that provided me with clear next-step directions. When I'm deeply in love, I research the lyrics (if there are any), musicians, instruments, where the album was recorded, who produced it, and of course, anything about the singer and songwriters. I am clairsentient and clairaudient, and reside in many different realms all at once, meaning that I can hear, sense, and feel in deeper ways beyond what is perceived to be "normal" such that I have played specific sounds/mantras on repeat like "Gobinday Mukanday" and witness obstacles/blockages being removed the next day. Music finetunes our bodies as instruments and we in turn play even more beautiful harmonies out into the world. Many people do not know how powerful sound is or how certain sounds can dissociate us from our bodies and misalign the left and right hemispheres of our brain, creating mental clutter, or worse, mental health issues. There is no mistake in the fact that we all chose to be here on earth as this chaotic time to usher in a new way of being/living/loving. I know we hear a lot about the "bad" happening in the global world but there is far more good and opportunity available now more than has ever been possible in human history, mainly because we have access to higher frequencies and consciousness. Everything out of alignment with love will continue to be exposed. This is really good news. -India Ame'ye, Author

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anothermansjeans · 6 months ago

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Okay so singer reader idea and if you’re not feelin it then that’s okay! But maybe Bye by Ariana Grande. And I imagined it like her and Spencer were together but have been broken up for a couple months and reader comes out w this song and changing the lyrics in the song to “so I grab my stuff, Penny just pulled up in the driveway.” And then they eventually get back together.

THANKS FOR REQUESTING!! ALSO some quick headcanons for this au so it makes more sense: the other 4 songs i mention reader wrote are down bad, the archer, hits different, and stranger and then after this blurb i picture reader wrote feels like !!

cw: hurt/comfort warning :((( spencer self sabotages !!!!! but happy ending :)

wc: 1k

singer!reader masterlist

Heartbreak has always been a real motivator for you when it comes to songwriting. You just hoped this motivator died the moment Spencer came into your life… unfortunately, it didn't.

Something serious happened at the BAU three weeks ago, so serious that Spencer went to your place in a panic and told you it was best if you two stopped your relationship now before anything bad happens. The media still weren't a hundred percent sure who he was, the disguises and staying on the down low really helped with that, and he claimed that's a good thing– it’s good that no one (other than close friends and family) really knew about him and his job. He told you he didn't want you in danger.

And some very small rational part of you knew he was doing the best thing his brain told him to, you were just angry and sad about it all. You love Spencer; that’s a no brainer, but you wish he would have given you the chance to make the decision if it's going to impact you. So, because of the heartbreak of him leaving that night and making absolutely no contact with you afterwards, you kind of went on a rampage with your writing.

The first song was written not even three days after it happened. Penelope pulled up to your place to give you a hug and to let you know that just because Spencer doesn't allow himself to be happy, doesn't mean she will stop being there for you. You love Penelope so much. After the visit though (and a few too many glasses of wine) you kind of threw anything you saw that was Spencer’s into a bag and handed it off to her. You wanted to keep only what was yours, and you didn't want to have to deal with it later; you didn't want to deal with the heartbreak later.

Still a bit buzzed, you decided to start working on some music. Phone recording, and fingers playing the piano, you sang whatever popped in your head.

“So I grab my stuff

Penny just pulled up in the driveway

It's time

Bye-bye

Boy, bye

Bye-bye

It's over, it's over, oh yeah

Bye-bye

I'm takin' what's mine, yeah

Bye-bye

It's over, it's over, oh yeah”

And it was out to stream within the week. You went through a lot of loopholes, long talks with your management, and producers to get it out as soon as possible. When you wrote it, it felt like it was on the tip of your tongue, and that anxious feeling made you loath everything around you. For your own mental health, it was released way before any other song or even mention of a new album. That week that was spent tying up loose ends on your management’s side was a week also full of songwriting, and you were sure you'd have an album by the end of the month.

When the surprise drop happened, people were confused. Supportive, but confused. You normally did a lot of interactions with fans online before or after a release, so your silence was concerning. You proclaimed it was your hermit season, and with that, people (that being friends and family) knew not to bother you. So you could say that when a knock on your door was heard throughout your place, you were hesitant.

You got up and looked through the peephole, sighing when you saw the genius you were still very in love with. It took you a minute to collect yourself– you didn't want to speak to him but all parts of your heart were aching for a moment with Spencer– and you slowly opened the door, seeing the sadness pool in his eyes.

“Uh– h-hi.”

“What are you doing here?” You didn't mean for your words to come out so harsh, and neither did he by the flinch he gave you.

“I wanted to talk to you…” You scoffed and shook your head. This wasn't a good idea. You began to close the door, only to abruptly stop at his voice. “I heard your song.” You stayed still, waiting for him to continue. “And I spoke to Penelope, and everyone on the team and I hate myself for letting you go the way I did and–”

“And what?” You cut him off, practically begging him to give you something to hold on to.

“And I want to try and talk to you about this and do anything I can to try and make this up.”

You softened a bit, and gave a nod, opening your door wider for him to enter. When he did, you motioned at him, “keep going.”

He took a deep breath and gave direct eye contact as he spoke, “I self sabotage, but in addition to that, I’m terrified of anything happening to you.” He waited a moment, clearly collecting his thoughts, “I see what happens to the loved ones of those on my team. I never want that to happen to you.”

“I understand that, but that doesn't give you the right to make the decision to end things without consulting me.”

“And I completely agree and understand.” His words were quick. “I know I’m allowed to be cautious but I should have spoken to you and tried to figure out how you felt on the subject.”

“Exactly.” You stared at each other, and your eyes began to fill with tears. “You are never allowed to do that to me again. Leaving me… safely stranded… I hated it, Spencer, and I love you so much, so you are never allowed to do that again.”

He took that as his in, and tentatively took a step towards you, bringing his hands up to your arms and gently squeezing them. “Never. I love you too, I am so sorry, Y/N.”

You gave a nod and moved closer to him, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling his arms engulf you. You waited a moment before speaking, “I wrote four other songs about you.” He hummed in agreement, “and they're all going on the next album.”

He gave a soft chuckle, “I completely understand,” and he left a soft kiss on the top of your head. A huge weight was lifted off of you, and you never felt more at home.

singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant @chericherrypie @punksnotdeadbutiam @stillhere197 @laddywitch @httpstoyosi @obi-wansgirl @amandareids

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #singer!reader

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atticssmellgood · 1 year ago

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hey babe!! can you do the 16 and 17 with alex, pls? 🥺

Tired

Alex Turner x GN!reader(no specific pronouns used)

Prompt(s) requested: “How Are you so comfy?” + Person A falls asleep on person B

Word count: 1k

CW: None❤️

A/N: I’m honestly so happy you requested these specific prompts lmao, I’ve always loved the idea of cuddling with Alex, I feel like he would be so sweet😭 anyways, hope you enjoy!

P. S. I feel like all of my fics end in sleeping I need a new way to close out💀

Alex groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as he sat slumped over his small notebook, scribbled out lyrics and messy handwriting decorating the pages.

Why was it that whenever he actually wanted to get some songwriting done, he couldn’t? Lately the inspiration seemed to slip out of his hands every time he picked up the pen, leaving him stuck and stressed. Most times, he would just end up in a significantly lower mood with nothing more than what he started with.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression, too many thoughts swirling around in his head to possibly make sense of any of them.

Eventually he stood up and stretched, his limbs feeling heavy with exhaustion and a yawn coming from his mouth.

Alex hadn’t been able to get much sleep recently due to the amount of time he’d been spending on the new album, but he could never seem to rest when he was so focused on why his brain wasn’t working the way he wanted it to.

Before Alex could let out another loud groan of frustration, he heard the front door open and he couldn’t have been more relieved.

“Alex?” You called out tentatively, not sure if he was home from the studio just yet. You made your way to the kitchen and sat your car keys on the counter with a jingle before hearing footsteps coming towards you. All of the sudden you were pulled into a warm hug, a kiss falling onto your forehead softly.

“Welcome home darling…” Alex whispered as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. You could already tell from his quiet voice and the way he leaned his body on yours that he had a long day. Your suspicions were confirmed when you pulled away from his embrace to get a good look at him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his expression looked overall drained. It didn’t take a genius to realize he needed some food and rest.

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek gently, stroking the apex of his cheekbone with your thumb in a loving manner. Alex’s hands still sat on your hips as he leaned into your palm and closed his eyes. A small sigh left his lips when he felt the tension in his muscles slowly dissipate, replaced with a warm feeling that seeped into his bones and gripped at his heart.

“You look miserable, Al.” you giggled quietly, continuing to stroke his cheek. Although disguised as a light-hearted joke, Alex could hear the worried undertone in your voice.

“It’s just some writer’s block, nothing to worry about.” He mumbled and pulled you a little closer.

You let out a little hum and let him rest his chin on your shoulder.

“You know I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure writers block doesn’t cause you to look like you haven’t slept in a week.” Your voice was a little more concerned now as you rub his back lightly “what’s wrong?”

Alex let out a small groan and snaked his arms fully around your waist, squeezing you tight and beginning to sway the both of you from side to side slowly. His body heat engulfs you in a comforting embrace and you could still smell a bit of the cologne he liked to put on before he left in the mornings. “it’s…” he starts, speaking tentatively “I’ve just been really stressed lately with the non-stop recording in the studio and it doesn’t help when I can’t seem to write properly anymore.” His voice is quiet and clearly exhausted. You once again pull back, this time giving him a soft kiss on the lips, then one on his nose. He closed his eyes and gave a sleepy little smile.

“Why don’t we go to sleep, yeah?” You brush a piece of hair out of his eyes “I think you really need it. And who knows? Maybe it’ll clear your writer’s block.” You smiled sweetly before Alex just nods in agreement.

His mind did feel a bit foggy from the lack of sleep. Maybe that was the problem?

Without another word, you stepped out of his embrace to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

Alex immediately laid on the bed, his eyes already beginning to close until he noticed you didn’t lay next to him. He glances over to see you taking off your shirt so you could change into something more comfortable than your work clothes.

He chuckled before reaching over to grabbing your arm and pull you onto the mattress with a sly grin.

You let out a little yelp and before you knew it, Alex’s full body weight was resting on top of you, effectively trapping you underneath him.

“Alex! You couldn’t wait five more seconds?” You laugh, still topless as he hadn’t given you the chance to put a shirt on.

“Nope.” He said with a satisfied expression “You were already taking too long.”

His head was resting on your chest comfortably, his soft brown hair tickling your bare skin.

You just laughed at his response, then snuck a gentle hand into his hair.

His features seemed to relax once you did this as his eyes fluttered shut and a small smile played at his lips.

You ran your fingers through the thick strands, nails occasionally scratching his scalp. The more you did this, the more he relaxed. The stress he held in his tense muscles looked as if it was melting away slowly with each brush of your hand on his hair.

“How are you so comfy?” Alex mumbled, nuzzling into your chest with a contented sigh. You just smiled as you gazed at him, leaning forward a bit to place a soft kiss on the top of his head.

He loved the spot he was in because he could press his ear right against where your heart was and listen to it beat with a steady rhythm. All the thoughts and worries in his mind were quieting down to mere whispers as he focused on the soft thumping in your chest. This was what he knew he needed.

Moments after that, you heard his breathing slow, indicating that he was indeed asleep.

You continued to stroke his hair in a loving manner even as he slept. The weight of his body on yours was comforting and it wasn’t long until you began to fall asleep underneath him, uttering a barely audible “Sweet dreams, my love” and letting your eyes flutter shut.

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #arctic monkeys #gn!reader #fluff #cuddling #fluff x reader #arctic monkeys x reader #writing prompt #rpf #alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfic

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adrienneleclerc · 9 months ago

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Daydreams

Pairing: Lead Singer! Mike Hellraiser x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Mike Winchester formed a band with his college friends and got a record deal after graduation, he is currently dating Y/N, who is his biggest muse. When I tell you Mike is down bad for his girl, he is down BAD

Warning: spelling and grammar errors, no translated Spanish, inaccurate music writing and recording process

A/N: got the idea of giving Mike the Winchester last name from @littlefreya and Henry does look like the missing Winchester brother, like he could be Sam’s twin since they’re close in age. I also had this song stuck in my head for a few days, thank you booktok

Mike was in his home studio daydreaming about his girlfriend, thinking about their date last night, the black lace dress she was wearing, hair done beautifully, makeup so pretty that he was dying to ruin it, it was all good until he felt someone hit his head.

“Hey, what the fuck, Chels?” Mike asked, soothing the part of his head where she hit him.

“Can you stop thinking about Y/N for two seconds and focus? We need one more song and we complete the album.” Chelsea said.

“Leave him, Chels, he’s clearly thinking with his downstairs brain.” Derrick said.

“Oh like you don’t think with yours when it comes to Allison? I have writers block, guys, I can’t think.” Mike said, throwing his notebook to the other side of the room.

“Do you have any cords in mind?” Chelsea asked, trying to be helpful.

“I have nothing. I think once i get the lyrics down, I can work on the melody,” Mike said, he checked his phone and saw it was almost 7. “Shit, Y/N is on her way, you guys need to leave.

“Oh come on, Winchester, we met her, she already moved in with you despite many of our jokes at your expense, I think she’s a keeper.” Derrick said.

“Haha, seriously, I need to give Y/N my undivided attention so you two need to get out of here so I can set everything up.” Mike said.

“You give her all the attention even when we are around.” Chelsea said. Mike looked at her. “Alright, fine, we’re leaving, we’re going to work on a few melodies for the new song though, see if any of them fit your lyrics. Let’s go.” Chelsea said and her and Derrick left the home studio through the kitchen door to leave through the backyard. Mike immediately changed, styled his hair back a little, and got the bouquet of roses he purchased earlier to put them in a vase on the counter. He was spraying cologne when he heard the the door open.

“There’s my girl, how was work, sweet cheeks?” Mike asked, kissing Y/N on the cheek, taking the take out bag out of her hands to put it on the counter.

“I have no words. Being a vet tech is fine, the pet owners get hysterical sometimes but it is what it is. How are things going with the band?” Y/N asked, placing her coat in the closet, walking back to the kitchen.

“Well i have writers block and we need one more song for our album.” Mike said, pulling out a chair to sit.

“I know something that might help you with your writer’s block.” Y/N said, leaning close to where he was sitting and started kissing and nibbling his neck.

“Oh, you know how much I love that, doll.” Mike said, sighing.

“I do. How about we do more of this after we eat. I stopped by that Peruvian restaurant that’s near in-n-out and got us the pollo a la brasa with extra rice, obviously, and anticuchos, jalea de mariscos, we are set for 3 days.” Y/N said,

“Thats perfect, princess.” Mike said, they kissed and began to eat.

After eating, Mike and Y/N went to their bedroom. Mike laid her down on the bed and Y/N gave him fuck me/doe eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, doll, you know what it does to me.” Mike said, leaning in to kiss her, smiling into the kiss, she closed her eyes to enjoy the kiss even more.

Y un dos tres, tuki tuki, they did the deed, Mike was hugging Y/N, rubbing her arm.

“Why do you have writer’s block anyway? I thought you had a whole process when it came to songwriting o algo así, no, muñeco?” Y/N said.

“I do have a whole process but nothing is helping me. I haven’t had such writer’s block since I wrote ‘heaven angel’. Remember when I played that song for you?” Mike reminded Y/N.

“Oh I love that song. It was so good.” Y/N said.

“Of course you love that song, it’s about you.” Mike said.

“I know and I love it. I remember you dedicating that song to me when i went to your show. Muñeco, I love seeing you live, I really do, I hope you find some inspiration.” Y/N said, she kissed his cheek and went to the bathroom because she didn’t want a UTI.

The next day, Mike woke up and saw that Y/N wasn’t in bed. He put on his boxers and went to the kitchen and saw Y/N making breakfast, singing one of his songs, he smiled,

“Come and turn around 'Cause it's not just a figure of speech.” Y/N sang.

“You got me down on my knees, It's getting harder to breathe out.” Mike sang back, hugging Y/N from behind and she let out a little Yelp of surprise.

“No me asustes así, Muñeco.” Y/N turned around to hit his shoulder and Mike made believe it hurt him. “Did you sleep well?” Y/N asked, serving herself pancakes.

“I did, do you have work today? I wanted to do something with you.” Mike said, also serving himself the pancakes that were already done.

“No, the vet I’m working for said he wasn’t going to come in for 3 days so I have 3 days off. What did you want to do?” Y/N asked, sitting down at the table with her fork and knife, placing the syrup on the table.

“I think I’ve been putting to much pressure on myself to write this song. Maybe I have to…” Mike started, as he sat down

“Tienes que despejar la mente, calm your mind, wait until the idea comes to you. I get it, what did you have in mind?” Y/N asked, cutting a piece and eating it.

“Remember when we first started dating?” Mike asked.

“I met you when you after you performed at the Santa Monica Pier, we literally went out on a date that day.” Y/N said, Mike got up to stand behind Y/N, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“You don’t want to go to the Santa Monica Pier today? We could play skeeball, I’ll put my hand over yours to guide you like old times.” Mike said, taking Y/N’s hand in his.

“Mira este, alright, fine, we’ll go, do I pack us food?” Y/N asked as Mike sat back down at the table,

“Y/N, babygirl, you’re starting to sound like your mom. If we get hungry, we’ll buy food there, I’ll pay for us, it’s fine.” Mike said, eating his pancakes.

“Fine, are we taking the jeep or the bike?” Y/N asked.

“Mm, as much as I love having you holding onto my when we’re on the motorcycle, we gotta take the jeep, I wanted to hit the beach too.” Mike said.

“Alright then, we finish eating and I’ll pack the beach bag. So we’re doing the rides first?” Y/N asked.

“Of course, the Ferris wheel, the coaster, the shark frenzy thing, then we can skeeball, and we’ll stay at the beach for the rest of the day, it’s 9:27, we’ll leave at 10.” Mike said.

“I’ll get ready then.” Y/N said.

They finished eating and Y/N was putting on her swimsuit in the walk in closet that connected to their room when Mike walked in. When he saw her in the suit, he did a wolf whistle and she turned around.

“Mm i Don’t think we should go to the beach anymore, I don’t want any other man to see you in this suit.” Mike got closer to her, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her in for a slow and sensual kiss.

“Que tiene? You get to see what’s under my suit and you’re the only one who gets to please me.” Y/N teased, giving him a sweet, innocent smile.

“You are such a tease, sweet cheeks.” Mike said, shaking his head.

“But you like it.” Y/N said,

“Well you’re not lying there,” Mike said, Y/N puton her jeans shorts, a tank top, sneakers, tied her hair up in a ponytail (let your hair down if you have short hair), and wore her sunglasses. When she went to the living room, Mike was dressed in shorts, a t shirt, sneakers, a baseball cap, and sunglasses, he had their bag in hand. “You think anyone will recognize me in this?” Mike asked.

“If we learned anything from marvel movies, apparently no one will recognize you.” Y/N teased.

“Wait, my fans know we’re together, you gotta wear a hat too.” Mike said.

“The shit I do for you.” Y/N said and went to the walk in to grab her Yankee baseball cap. “Okay, let’s go, muñeco.” Y/N kissed him and they got into their 2021 jeep wrangler.

When they were in the car, Mike had his hand on her thigh, there were times where he would hold her hand, Mike’s love language was clearly physical touch. Once they made it, they got out of the car but left the beach bag since they were going in the rides. As they walked around the pier, a few people came up to take photos with Mike, Y/N happily took those photos for his fans. They went on the rides, Mike bought some cotton candy, feeding pieces to Y/N, they played skeeball together and they went to their car to get the bag and hang out on the beach. When Y/N took off her top and shorts, Mike just stared.

“Wow, wow, wow, I am LOVING the view, sweet cheeks!” Mike said as he was setting up the chairs on the sand. Y/N smiled at him and went closer to him, they kissed.

“You think you can rub sunscreen on my back?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I can, baby girl, I would love too.” Mike got the sunscreen from her bag and apply it on her back. “You ready, baby? You wanna go in the water with me?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Y/N said and instead of walking like normal couple, Mike carried Y/N over his shoulder and both were laughing like crazy until they made it on the water. “Ay, está helada, it’s so fucking cold, no puede ser.”

“I’ll warm you up.” Mike said, hugging her. They were like this for a while until Mike went back to his chair and saw his phone ringing. “What up?”

“You’re telling me you’re having a beach day instead of writing a song?” Chelsea asked.

“Oh my god, Chels, I can’t write music under all this pressure, I’m sorry that I’m not the best song writer, do you have anything written, hm?” Mike asked,

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Chelsea said.

“Look, I am with Y/N right now and if it’s any consolation, I just thought of a line that we could use but you need to write it down, okay? ‘She knows she’s a tease’, you got it?” Mike asked.

“Mike, we’re not making another song about your girl.” This time it was Derrick on the phone.

“THEN THINK OF SOMETHING BETTER!” Mike hung up the phone and both Derrick and Chelsea on silent. He sat on the chair and he sees Y/N getting out of the water, walking towards him with water droplets on her body.

“Who was that?” Y/N asked as she straddled him. Mike put his hands on her hips.

“Just Chelsea and Derrick, they’re on my ass about the song.” Mike said, he leaned in to kiss her. “Oh, my brothers are going to come over tomorrow.” Mike was going to kiss her again but she pulled away. “What?”

“Your brothers are coming tomorrow and you didn’t think to tell me until right now? I have to buy ingredients to bake a pie for Dean, make a salad for Sam, clean the house, we gotta go.” Y/N said getting off his lap and drying off with a towel. “Pack this up in the car while I go change.” Y/N said. She went to the changing room, put on her clothes, and she walked back to the car to tell Mike to go change. She Waite sun til he came back and started the car. “We have to go to the supermarket to get apples, cucumbers, carrots, spinach, and we need more eggs.”

“Yeah of course, I’ll pay, they’re my brothers anyway.” Mike said.

“I’ll make baked chicken with rice, I have all the spices to make the marinade and let it sit. And we need potatoes to make the French fries from scratch, and chicken thighs and drumsticks. So tomorrow, I need you out of the kitchen, work on the song, okay. But how the hell do you tell me last minute? I respect your parents, I really do, but what the fück?!? Is this how you had Mary? Telling her shit last minute like a fücking elementary school kid that forgot to buy poster board?” Y/N asked angrily.

“The point is I told you now, it’s not late at all, you have time to leeos es everything.” Mike said.

“Thats where you’re wrong, muñeco, it’s 5pm, people are getting off work, there will be traffic.” Y/N said.

“We can handle traffic, just don’t be mad, okay.” Mike said.

“When did your brother tells you they were coming over for dinner?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know…it was last week, I remember because you made lasagna.” Mike said and Y/N gave him a zape.

“I can’t believe you had a whole fucking week to tell me, sabes que, you’re staying in the car while I get groceries.” Y/N said. “Why should I suffer? You’re getting the groceries, I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah, of course I’ll do it. You want me to buy something else?” Mike asked.

“Just get what’s on the list.” Y/N said. They were quiet for the rest of the ride, Mike parked in the Shop Rite parking lot.

“I’ll be right back.” Mike said, getting out of the car.

Mike went to shop rite and bought what Y/N had on the list, plus a few snacks he knew Y/N liked and ice cream because there should always be ice cream in the house. He paid for everything and got back in the car to drive home. Once home, he brought in the groceries while Y/N just brought in the beach bag.

“Okay, out of my kitchen, I need to make the marinade.” Y/N said, pushing him out.

“Wait, I’m hungry, I need to eat.” Mike whined.

“Then heat up the leftovers, no puedo hacer nada if you’re here.” Y/N said. Mike walked away in surrender.

“Im sorry for not letting you know.” Mike said.

“It’s fine, just let me do what I need to do.” Y/N said.

It was the next day and like promised, Mike was in the home studio with Chelsea and Derrick.

“I have something down, ‘she’s all I breathe when I should be breathing air’ i think it could be part of the chorus.” Mike said.

“Ugh, why are you so obsessed with her?” Derrick asked.

“You have never been in love and it shows. Besides? I think our new album is missing a love song, this could be that love song.” Mike said.

“Fine, if you insist on writing a song about Y/N, how does she make you feel? I already know that all you do is daydream about her but how would you describe her?” Chelsea said. Mike started thinking how to put what he feels into words.

“You know that feeling when you know they’re the one? Like you know that person is all you’ll ever need, that one else could even come close to being like that person.” Mike started.

“That’s good, that’s good.” Chelsea wrote the idea down.

“Metaphorically speaking, how would she be?” Derrick asked, sitting down on the couch.

“Like your favorite song you have playing on a loop, it’s all you’ll ever listen to, nothing else’s but that song.” Mike says.

“Isn’t that basically ‘replay’ by Iyaz?” Chelsea asked.

“Shit, you’re right.” Mike said,

“You’re on the right track. Let’s think of something else, um…” Chelsea started and the three of them started thinking of something else to compare Y/N to.

“A book! What about a book?” Derrick asked.

“That could work, Y/N LOVED reading, there’s this book called ‘beautiful disaster’ that she’s always reading, it’s so worn out but it’s her favorite book of all time, it’s all she read when she’s bored.” Mike said.

“That’s it! Okay, here’s the music sheet I made, um, start playing it and I’ll say the lyrics I’m thinking, alright?” Chelsea said.

“Yeah, de una as Y/N would say.” Mike said as he picked up the guitar to play the notes, Chelsea started humming.

“She’s all I read, she’s all the literature that I’ll ever read.” Chelsea sang.

“That’s perfect! Im writing it down right now, okay. That’s really good, Chels.” Mike said.

“Okay, we wrote that Y/N is literature, what kind of literature would she be?” Derrick asked.

“She makes me feel so many things. I remember when we first started dating, I would text her poems every morning.” Mike said, then an idea sparked on his head. “That’s it! Okay, the notes, the notes, there it is, okay…’she’s all the literature I’ll ever read, she’s poetry, but she’s like the good kind that doesn’t make me sleep’ how does that sound?” Mike asked.

“Finally you being whipped has brought some food to the band.” Derrick said jokingly.

“Haha.” Mike laughed sarcastically and threw a paper ball at him.

“Alright, we have the first verse done, that’s good, this is great progress.” Chelsea said.

Y/N was in the kitchen, she has the rice, chicken, and salad done, she opened the over door when she heard the doorbell ring.

“Fuck.” She muttered as she took the pie out of the oven. She wiped her hands on her apron, walked through the dining room, living room, and opened the door. “Sam, Dean, come in!” Y/N said, hugging Sam and Dean Winchester.

“Hey, sweetheart, where’s our brother?” Dean asked.

“He’s in the studio. I’ll get him, but please, sit, make yourselves comfortable on the couch, did you guys come in the impala?” Y/N asked.

“You really love that car, don’t you?” Sam asked.

“It’s a beautiful car, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said, she knocked on the studio door. “Muñeco, your brothers are here.”

“Im coming, sweet cheeks, I’ll just finish up.” Mike said and he heard Y/N walk away.

“‘Muñeco’? ‘Sweet cheeks’? You are whipped.” Derrick commented.

“Do we stay?” Chelsea asked

“No, you don’t have to, I’ll try to finish the hutías tonight though, have a safe trip back.” Mike said and the three of the left the studio, Chelsea and Derixk leaving through the backyard. Mike walked into the living room and saw his brothers. “Sammy, Deano!” Mike said, hugging them.

“Nice to see you too, Mikey.” Sam said.

“How’s the little rockstar? Working on a new song already?” Dean asked as the four of

Dinner went really well, they talked about what they’ve been up to, Dean complimenting Y/N’s cooking, especially the pie, Dean took the pie with him when Sam and Dean left.

“Dinner went well, don’t you think?” Like asked.

“It did.” Y/N said as she cleared the table but Mike held her wrists.

“I’ll clear the table and wash the dishes, okay? Hey ready for bed.” Mike said, kissing her forehead.

“What about you?” Y/N asked.

“Im not tired yet, I’ve also been on a roll with the lyrics so I’m gonna see if I can finish.” Mike said.

“Does that mean I’ll be able to listen to the song tomorrow?” Y/N asked.

“Maybe, go to bed though, you’ve been cooking all day” Mike said, kissing her again.

When Mike was finished washing dishes, he brewed himself a cup of coffee and took out a concha from the box that Y/N got this morning from the bakery. He went to his studio.

“Alright, no dicking around, how do I continue this song?” Mike asked himself. He started humming, thinking about Thursday night how Y/N looked at him with those eyes that drive him crazy. “I really gotta stop daydreaming.” Mike said, sipping coffee. “Okay, her eyes are what..? Lust? Love? A movie? Maybe an x-rated one by the way her eyes get me…that’s it!” Mike exclaimed, writing down his thoughts. “Her eyes are porn and she knows it, won’t shut her eyelids till she gets invited” Mike sang as he thought back to all the moments Mike and Y/N had made love.

Mike’s writing process was like this for a few hours until he had the whole song written. He played the whole song a few times to make sure it all sounded like a real song. But mans is too tired so he called Chelsea. She answered after 3 rings.

“Michael August Winchester, you better have a good reason for waking me up at…3 in the morning?!? Why the hell are you calling me at 3 in the morning?” Chelsea asked.

“I finished the song, i need you to hear it, I need to know if it’s a good song.” Mike said.

“Why can’t Y/N listening to it?” Chelsea asked tiredly.

“Im not going to wake up my girlfriend at 3 in the morning, don’t be ridiculous.” Mike reasoned.

“You woke me up at..! You know what, doesn’t matter, I’ll call Derrick and we’ll go over the song before we call Teddy to have him hear the song. I’ll see you later.” Chelsea hung up.

Half an hour later, Chelsea and Derrick showed up, knocking on the kitchen door, Mike answered it.

“You know what time it is?” Derrick asked.

“Just listen to the song. I think it sounds good but I need you guys go play your parts too.” Mike said and they walked into the studio. Chelsea looked at the lyrics.

“Not bad at all, let’s see how it sounds.” Chelsea said. She picked up the bass and Derrick went to the drum set. After playing, Chelsea was smiling and so was Derrick.

“Winchester, the song is great. We’ll call Teddy later in the morning, like 10am, which is a very fucking reasonable hour by the way, we’re gonna crash on your guest room.” Derrick said, getting off the drum set chair.

“That sounds fair, you guys know where it is, goodnight, thanks for coming over.” Mike said.

“No problem, we’re all friends here, goodnight.” Chelsea said, putting down the bass. The theee of them left the studio, going to their rooms. Mike got in bed, spooning Y/N and she stored awake.

“Muñeco? What time is it?” Y/N asked.

“Don’t worry about, go to sleep, baby.” Mike kissed her cheek and both fell fast asleep.

The next day, the band is at Ellemar records with Teddy Price.

“There they are, there’s my favorite band! I heard you had a new song for me?” Teddy asked.

“Yes we do, Mike stayed up until 3am writing it, we think it’s great but we definitely need your expert ear.” Derrick said.

“Say no more, get into the recording booth, your instruments are all there, let’s see what you got.” Teddy said. He sat at the soundboard and gave the band the go ahead to start playing. Teddy was impressed. “Amazing song! Did you write it about your girl, Mike?” Teddy asked through the soundboard mic.

“Yeah, she’s my muse.” Mike said with a lovesick smile.

“I think we got a hit here so why don’t you guys take a break and we’ll record the instruments. Later Mike will hop into the recording booth and get vocals done. They will be your most popular album yet, take 10.” Teddy said.

A week later, they finished recording the song. A fee months later, after discussing the album cover, what songs go on the album, and tweaking and mastering the songs, they finally have a release date of the album.

“Our album comes out May 17!” Mike exclaimed, hugging Y/N before lifting her up and twirling her around.

“Que emoción, are you excited?” Y/N asked.

“Beyond excited! Especially because Teddy also got us a spot at Coachella! We’re going to be on the main stage on Saturday for both weekends.” Mike said.

“No way! You’re playing Coachella, that’s huge! Becky G was at Coachella last year, I wonder who else is part of the lineup.” Y/N said.

“I don’t know either but Teddy is managing everything, he got us booked in this fancy hotel, or he’s working in it, and of course since you’re my girl, you’re coming with me.” Mike said, kissing her.

“Will we get to enjoy the festival? Like when you’re not performing?” Y/N asked.

“I think we should be able to.” Mike said.

COACHELLA comes and the band is getting ready to perform.

“Everyone give it up for We Three!” They announced, the crowd starts screaming like crazy as the band got out.

“Hey everyone, we’re We Three and thank you so much for coming out here!” Mike exclaimed. We’re going to open the show with a song from our new album going out May 17. The song is called ‘Daydream’ and it goes out to my girl, I love you, you’re my dream girl, hope y’all like it.

She's all I read

She's all the literature that I'll ever need

She's poetry

But she's like the good kind that doesn't make me sleep

Her eyes are porn and she knows it

Won't shut her eyelids 'til she gets invited

We're not keeping score, but she's winnin'

Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her

She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air

She knows I'm weak, yeah I

Daydream every day about the things we do at night

She likes the word, "Please"

But not the polite kind, the one in the sheets

She knows she's a tease

She's here for a good time then she's gonna leave

She'll start a war and she knows it

Won't stop her fighting 'til my flag is rising

We're not keeping score, but she's winnin'

Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her

She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air

She knows I'm weak, yeah I

Daydream every day about the things we do at night

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her

She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air

She knows I'm weak, yeah I

Daydream every day about the things we do at night

The crowd SCREAMED, they went crazy for the song, whether it was the lyrics itself or Mike’s guitar, the crowd loved it. They finished their slot and they went backstage, Mike saw Y/N with a teasing smile.

“Im your dream girl, huh? You daydream a lot about me?” Y/N asked, wrapping her arm around his neck.

“I daydream everyday about you. Whether it’s you in your lingerie, you cooking, coming home from work, you eating ice cream, I daydream about you.” Mike said.

“You’re so sweet.” Y/N said, leaning in to kiss him. Mike groaned into the kiss. “Wow, you really are weak.” Y/N laughed.

“You know I am, I could never say no to you, let’s go get some food because I’m starving, you think there’s tacos?” Mike asked.

“There should be, Coachella valley is heavily populated with Hispanics.” Y/N commented.

The End

Taglist: @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @marieksg

If Walter in general is called “Oso”, Mike who is bien caribonito, such a pretty boy, his nickname is definitely “muñeco”. What should Henry’s nickname be? Obviously besides the classic amor, mi vida. Maybe more Henry and Mike one shots in the future

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #mike hellraiser #hellraiser #hellraiser mike #Spotify

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urfavsecretgirl · 3 months ago

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can we all agree that arctic monkeys are definitly one of the best today's artists ever? and here are so many reasons

their music taste - they are inspired by amazing artists, such as the beatles, rolling stones, the strokes, etc.

sound - in every album, they have different sound. and they clearly don't care about what other people want them to do yet they do what they like. their first album being a prog punk, garage rock. and you can feel how it looks like being a teeanger. then fwn being a little more heavier indie rock sound. then you have humbug, dark, witchy, psychedelic. and it's giving harry potter vibes sm. sias being like you are in wild west during christmas time. really melancholic, soft indie rock, but again psychedelic sound. i love it sm. am being sexy, cool. like you are 80s rockstar writing your love diary. tbhc being atmospheric, really david bowie influenced. like you are in 80s sci-fi movie, having a great time in some luxury hotel, at night. and at the end, you have the car. really funky, soft melancholic sound. which makes you feel like you are at the balcony, in the middle of spring. it's sunny day. and you are smoking on balcony thinking about your past and future.

lyrics - i mean, we all know that alex is amazing songwriter. and even better than that. look at the lyrics of tbhc. also alex's work in submarine. knee socks, etc. he is really creative

about fame and awards - they NEVER CARED about being famous, getting awards, etc. i already mentioned that they don't care about what people want from them yet they do what they like. so basiclly, they give 0 fcks about people's opinions about their music. it's like "you like what you like. everyone has different taste". and that's what i REALLY love about them as a artist. they live for music, they make music for themselves, not for others. and that's why they don't care about awards too. i mean, they only ince attended grammys while being nominated multipate times in different years. alex's speech for brit awards 2014 says enough. also, 3 out of four members never used social media so that says enough (again)

alex's vocals - ok, he is not the best singer but again his vocals are really good. and the way they change in every album

instrument skills - they are good tho, but not the best. also matt during pretty visitors>>>>>>

creativity - very similar to theme about them changing sounds. you can see that they are really creative about it

they are unique, specific, and iconic rock band. and no one can change my mind.

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idontwanttospoiltheparty · 4 months ago

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Reverse unpopular opinion: their solo careers

John: Not a single album cover miss. took multiple huge risks. underrated as a producer. Zingers galore. Much more of a softie-songwriter than he's remembered as. Writes a good hopeless song. I think about Double Fantasy and Plastic Ono Band daily.

Paul: Everything by him I've listened to has had something interesting to discover. so many of his songs are in my regular circulation. most of his albums flow incredibly well. much funnier in music than he's usually given credit for. Band On The Run is a perfect album tbh.

George: Also funnier that he's usually given credit for. The slide guitar on My Sweet Lord is balm for my soul. Extra Texture and Gone Troppo are underrated!! I really like a lot of his dissonant chords. Harmonically, a lot of his songs really tug at my heart strings. I love that he wrote a song about the guy who owned his weird castle.

Ringo: I actually quite enjoy Ringo's voice. It's rich and conversational, it actually emphasizes lyrics a lot. Rotogravure is kinda underrated tbh (also great album cover). Six O'Clock fucks. (thank you Paul & Linda) Also his drumming on Tug Of War fucks if that counts.

#ask #anon #music talk

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scotianostra · 3 months ago

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youtube

Happy 75th Birthday, singer/songwriter/guitarist Mark Knopfler, born 12th August 1949, in Glasgow.

The Knopflers originally lived in the Glasgow area and Mark Knopfler’s younger brother David was also born in the city, his father was a Hungarian refugee who fled his home country in 1939, they have a Jewish heritage but Mark described his dad as a “Marxist agnostic”

The family moved to Newcastle when Mark was 7, where he was educated, he started making music aged 16 but it wasn’t till he formed Dire straits, with his brother in 1977 that he began to have success.

The band were signed to Vertigo Records in 1978 and recorded the album Dire Straits, which featured their first major hit single, “Sultans of Swing. Their follow-up albums include Communique , Making Movies featuring Romeo and Juliet and Tunnel of Love. In 1985 the band released its mega-selling album Brothers In Arms, which has sold more than 30 million copies to date.

Mark has collaborated with many of the world’s top acts through the years, and although he spent most of his life in England, he still holds an affinity with the land of his birth, of course many of you will know he penned the music to Local Hero, but Scotland has featured in some of his songs too. On his second solo album, Sailing to Philadelphia, the in the lyric of the first single pays homage to Edinburgh. The video also features Scotland, with the Forth Bridge and Road Bridge featuring as well as the streets of our Capital City. He also penned the music for the movie The Princess Bride and the Scottish

What is it.

The drinking dens are spilling out

There’s staggering in the square

There’s lads and lasses falling about

And a crackling in the air

Down around the dungeon doors

The shelters and the queues

Everybody’s looking for

Somebody’s arms to fall into

And it’s what it is

It’s what it is now

There’s frost on the graves and the monuments

But the taverns are warm in town

People curse the government

And shovel hot food down

The lights are out in city hall

The castle and the keep

The moon shines down upon it all

The legless and asleep

And it’s cold on the tollgate

With the wagons creeping through

Cold on the tollgate

God knows what I could do with you

It’s what it is

It’s what it is now

The garrison sleeps in the citadel

With the ghosts and the ancient stones

High up on the parapet

A Scottish piper stands alone

And high on the wind

The highland drums begin to roll

And something from the past just comes

And stares into my soul

And it’s cold on the tollgate

With the Caledonian blues

Cold on the tollgate

God knows what I could do with you

And it’s what it is

It’s what it is now

What it is

It’s what it is now

There’s a chink of light, there’s a burning wick

There’s a lantern in the tower

Wee Willie Winkie with a candlestick

Still writing songs in the wee wee hours

On Charlotte Street I take

A walking stick from my hotel

The ghost of Dirty Dick

Is still in search of Little Nell

It’s what it is

It’s what it is now

Oh it’s what it is

What it is now, now, now

films Local Hero and A Shot at Glory.

#scotland #scottish #history #anglo-scottish #singer songwriter #musician #happy birthday #Youtube

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jmdbjk · 1 year ago

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Golden

Kookie had a runny nose. He said when he's just hanging out with nothing to do he's fine but as soon as things start ramping up and getting hectic, the cold that won't go away comes back. Jimin was on to something when he said he was concerned about Jungkook staying healthy with such a busy schedule.

As usual he has stayed true to himself and I admire that a person of his age can be so honest about himself.

He was trying to keep it real and said things to lower everyone's expectations: About writing songs, he said he can't really write songs. He said he just doesn't have it in him. He said when he tries it always ends up being about Army.

He wondered if it was because he was so simple. This is what makes me love him as just a human being: he says things about himself that WE might not agree with but that he feels about himself. He's just so honest and unpretentious, and he doesn't even try to be that, he just is himself.

He said he thinks he doesn't have the intellect and that he doesn't have anything to write about, and if he HAD things to write about, he couldn't say them prettily and that there are so many other talented creators that he would just fall short. He mentioned RM, Yoongi, Hobi... they are so talented.

It is understandable that Kookie, being last, he saw what the other members did, and truly, it had to be intimidating. He may never feel confident enough but I bet if he gives it a try he’ll do great.

All of what he said adds another nuance as to why he said “something amazing" is coming when he did that live back in March and Set Me Free Pt 2 was about to drop. He saw how hard Jimin worked through that process and the end result WAS amazing. Intimidating indeed.

Perhaps he still needs to live some life before he can have enough emotional baggage to pour out some lyrics (lol). Give it time, Kookie, life will throw some shit at you. Or maybe expressing whatever is inside of him will never come out in words to a song. And its ok. Not everyone is a songwriter or poet.

I can accept this album as "this is where he is in his life right now". He said they worked fast. That's a lot to accomplish in the amount of time from start to finish.

My thoughts on the songs...

The lyrics to several of these songs are a little ... meh..., sort of disconnected. THAT BEING SAID... I can see some lyrics that probably did resonate with him.

But I am not going to focus so much on the lyrics but more on JK's vocal work and think about how he was trying to sing and pronounce well. THAT is what he was trying to do. He said lyrics are lyrics and images are images... they are not meant to be autobiographical so the lyrics will be secondary to the vocal production for me.

Jungkook explained that the pronunciation was a challenge. The producers each had their own idea of how the lyrics should be delivered to achieve the color of the song. English not being JK's first language, he was coached on what to do in the studio. He said especially pronouncing the "EEE" sound was a challenge.

I recognize some sounds that seem trendy. Some of the songs remind me of other songs I've heard in the past by other artists.

Closer has that flute and Afro beat that reminds me of another song but I just can't remember it right now.

Standing Next to You is giving me Michael Jackson Rock With You from his Off the Wall album or Remember the Time off his Dangerous album. A rockin' groove... "... when it's deep like DNA..." and "leave your body golden like the sun and the moon..." yes, those lyrics definitely resonate.

Yes or No, I can definitely hear the Ed Sheeran throughout that song. A nice song about that first thrill of love. Ed Sheeran is a great song writer. I've always liked his work.

Please Don't Change would probably be the song that comes closest to expressing how Jungkook feels about his fans. Though his life has been spent on camera, things might change and if he's no longer on camera, he'll still be the same but he hopes we please don't change. This song also has the same little flute sound as Closer.

Hate You. This is the Shawn Mendes song. It is one of those angsty relationship songs that are popular now like what Olivia Rodrigo and her ilk does. If Jungkook had not gotten this song, I could see it easily going to a female artist. It's quite painful. Kookie does a great job expressing the tragic drama of it all with his vocals.

Somebody is where he really lets loose with his range. Its a sad song. Like many, his opening lines had me doing a double take. I don't think we've ever heard Jungkook sing in this tone before? Very nice.

Too Sad To Dance. This is the kind of song I think Jungkook could write. It is simple and straightforward. The song is cute and poignant at the same time. He was able to keep his tone simple to match the vibe, he didn’t try to make it over the top… I love this song especially the very last line: "...you don't need no one to dance..." Stand on your own and be yourself, just like Kookie is doing.

Shot Glass Full of Tears is the best song on the album. There, I said it. He really reached down and brought JUST enough edge into his voice to pull it off. I could actually get emotional over this song. I will repeat, this is the best song on the album.

Well done, Jungkook.

Overall, Kookie is relieved the pressure is off. Now he can get out there and do what he’s knows he can do and that’s performing

And then he said it again: BTS is the most important thing to him.

Kookie knew he had to do this album. And now he's done it and ready to move forward.

When he finally realized Tae had commented:

The panic over his house not being clean hahahahahah!

Because he wasn't sure what kind of chaos they were going to bring to his house, Kookie ended the live in a stress-clean panic.

My, what a turn of events... not long ago he was laying in bed naked causing mayhem trying to convince Jimin to let him come over and take a shower and now here they come to his house bringing trouble LMAO!

I hope they had a great evening together. I loved seeing Tae and Jimin out and about, it really hits a spot in my heart.

A little while ago, I picked up a copy of Golden at Target, I don't know which photo card is the Target exclusive but this is what I got:

It's a nice package with a hard cover photo book and a case it slides into. The stickers are nice. Jungkook was wearing an earring with the that motif so I suppose it will show up as merch on the Weverse shop soon.

Anyway, that's my review of Golden.

#jungkook golden #vmin #vminkook #jimin #taehyung

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taylortruther · 5 months ago

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is it still unpopular opinion time?

- chloe et al is a beautifully written song, but the production is SO boring. like give it some life or something. someone on TikTok made a mashup of the song with cowboy like me, which isn’t exactly sonically exciting either, but it made a world of a difference. the lyrics are stunning, though.

- I think it’s pretty easy to tell who each song on ttpd is about. loml and peter are the only ones that feel mixed to me (other than fots, fortnight, and gas, which explicitly mention two different people). other than that I don’t really see a ton of the mixed muse thing. the relationships are similar, which makes it confusing, but there’s still a tonal difference between something like so long london and down bad to me.

- imgonnagetyouback would also benefit from livelier production. I also really don’t love the chorus even though the song is otherwise great lyrically

- I think ttpd doesn’t have as many clear standouts as her previous albums. they’re there, but I don’t see anything like yoyok or wcs that takes her songwriting to a new level. that said, I think one of the most impressive qualities of the album is just how consistent it is in quality. it’s very hard to make a 31-song album where every single one is well-written.

- idk if this is an unpopular opinion, but I had to say it. one of my favorite things about ttpd is actually the fact that she’s soooo affected by everything. like she’s on top of the world, she feels untouchable, and yet she is still unashamed to tell us just how much these two men broke her down. that’s pretty admirable imo. also, her relationship with fame affected her a lot differently than I originally thought. midnights paints a much simpler picture of that than ttpd does imo

i agree that cososom, while lyrically super interesting, is sonically... flat. it makes sense to me why that song was given more "bonus track" treatment.

i agree even if it causes a stir. like, joe is the cause, matty is the effect, but i do think she wrote several of them with a specific person in mind as you said.

i love imgonnagetyouback but i wish it had more of a traditional big chorus! much like lavender haze, i kinda wish someone would release a really good poppy remix that gives us that. it reminds me of the archer, in a way, that i feel like i'm just waiting for the sonic payoff. but it made sense in the archer, not sure why it's like that in this one.

i agree. i'm not sure which ones will have a lot of longevity with the fandom except the manuscript.

i would LOVE for you to speak more about your thoughts on how she was affected by fame!

#maria big brain

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wavesmp3 · 10 months ago

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[ksw] ode to you

inspired by 'daisy jones and the six'

kim sunwoo x reader (gn) wc: 10k warnings: cursing, heavy alcohol usage and often in an unhealthy way, one mention of blood (a terrible case of largely irrelevant side characters, an attempt at writing song lyrics, switching pov’s without any real indication, story existing in a vacuum of time and space loosely based off of 70s usa)

synopsis → The Numbers are a band well on their way to commercial success with Sunwoo as the dreamy front man, Changmin on drums, Jacob on guitar, Juyeon on bass, and Kevin on keys. But all that changes the second you step into the studio to record “Begin Again” with them. The song is an instant hit, launching you from a singer-songwriter nobody to the biggest new name in music and catapulting the Numbers into a larger limelight than they’ve ever been in before. So with the entire country singing your song, the pressure is on for you and the Numbers to create an entire album that lives up to their expectations. But while pressure builds, something akin to feelings for the front man builds with it.

You go to knock again on the door, heavy footsteps and heavier breaths, but just as soon as your knuckles make contact with the heavy wood, the door swings open.

Chanhee looks disappointed. “You were going to knock again, weren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, pushing him aside and going straight for the marble bar cart you know sits in the sitting room off the formal dining area.

“You know you really have to work on your patience.” He says to you from the foyer, voice already sounding a bit far away. You always forget how big acclaimed-music-producer Chanhee's house is. Although, you think, staring at the array of top shelf liquor arranged neatly on the bar cart, mansion is probably a more apt word for it.

You pour yourself a glass of whiskey.

Chanhee joins you in the room once you’ve already taken a seat in one of the brown leather arm chairs.

“How many glasses is that?”

You scoff. “I have a show at the Roxy after this.”

He hums, flicking the square paper in his hand.

You sit up slightly. “What is that?” Chanhee takes the paper over to the record player in the opposite corner of the room. He slips a clean black record out of the manilla slip and carefully places it into position. It doesn’t take long for the gentle hum of the record spinning around the platter to fill the room.

God, I love music. You think to yourself sitting back slightly in the armchair and allowing your eyes to shut.

“I want you to listen to this.” You hear Chanhee say, followed by the small pop of the decanter being opened and the quiet trickle and crack of liquor falling over ice. The sound of a bass overtakes the room. It’s somehow… gentle.

“Who’s it by?”

Chanhee doesn’t answer at first. You hear him sit down in the armchair next to yours while drums fill in the spaces of the songs and a guitar starts to hum along. And the sound that comes from the record player next–in all honesty, you don’t think Chanhee could have prepared you for. It’s a man’s voice, polished, in a way that you just know he’s been doing this for a while. His whole life maybe. There’s this rough, almost growly quality that amps the song up even more, and yet, simultaneously, his voice glides over the lyrics like honey spilling over the side of its jar. There’s so much depth in every note he hits. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard a voice–a sound–quite like this.

“Who is this?” You ask again once the first chorus comes to a close, opening your eyes and taking a proper look at Chanhee. He looks mildly amused.

“Have you heard of the Numbers?”

Sunwoo hurries into the studio from the car, guitar in one hand and lyrics in the other, fully expecting to get chewed out by his producer. “Chanhee, I’m so sorry. There was tra-”

Sunwoo stops in his tracks. The control room is empty. He steps back into the doorway and rereads the signage. He has the right room, so then… where is everybody?

“Sunwoo,” he hears a voice call for him from the recording stage. It’s Changmin, waving him inside and pointing at you. You smile at him, give him a nod of sorts. His eyes dart to Chanhee, giving him a look that says, who the fuck is that?

He walks into the recording booth hesitantly.

“Hey.” Chanhee says casually. “I don’t think you guys have met yet.”

You stand and approach him, sticking out your hand. Sunwoo just looks at it.

“The label thinks you guys would sound good on one track and want you to try recording ‘Begin Again’ together.”

He ignores your outstretched hand and looks straight at Chanhee. “Can we speak privately?”

—

Sunwoo had assumed he’d be the one getting chewed out in the studio today. Oh, how things have changed. He’s worked so hard on this song. More time and effort than he’s ever put in any of the band’s songs that came out before it. He can’t believe Chanhee would allow anyone else to try and taint it. “Begin Again” is his song. And he’ll be damned if he’s not the only one singing it.

Sunwoo’s ready to say all of this, but, “Before you say anything,” Chanhee doesn’t even let him speak, “I know how you feel about this. But the decision came from above me, okay. The Number’s last album didn’t do as well as the label hoped. They think another voice in the band could shake things up. And who knows, “Chanhee continues with a shrug that only makes Sunwoo fume more, “maybe this could be what you guys have been missing.”

Sunwoo cannot believe what he’s hearing. “We aren’t missing anything.”

“Don’t be dense.” Chanhee pans with a sideways stare. “I know you guys are good. I know you guys are gonna be big, but the rest of the world needs some convincing. Just try this, okay? This could be it.”

Sunwoo just shakes his head.

“I scouted them out myself. They’re a good singer and even better writer-”

“Writer?” Sunwoo nearly screams, arms flying to point at you through the control room window where the two boys are talking. “You want them to write on the song too?”

“They have a couple of…” Chanhee sighs, choosing his next word with extra precaution, “revisions.”

“Fuck that, Chanhee. I wrote a great song. It–”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You wrote a good song.” Chanhee refutes, matter-of-factly. “You wrote a good song, and they,” he points at you, “they made it a great one.”

Sunwoo is speechless.

“Here.” Chanhee pushes a piece of torn notebook paper into his hands.

If Sunwoo wasn’t so aware of the line Chanhee was drawing, he would’ve pushed harder, but at the end of the day, Chanhee is his boss and his lifeline in this business. If Chanhee says so, really says so, then there’s not much Sunwoo can do to fight it. Sunwoo is stubborn, but he’s not a fool looking to waste his own breath. He looks back into the recording stage. The band looks happy chatting to each other. And you, well, you’re staring at him.

A red light flashes on the sound board beneath him. “Talk over the changes.” Chanhee says to the band and you through the intercom. “We record in ten minutes.”

—

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say to Sunwoo sitting on the stool in front of the second mic. Sunwoo’s never even seen a studio setup with two mics before. He swallows a scoff. “Chanhee showed me the song the other day, and your voice it—“

“What does this line mean?” Sunwoo cuts in, taking his seat on the stool next to yours. “I changed my heart. I morphed my mind. You don’t have the right to tell me I didn’t try.”

Your face drops immediately. “Are you serious?”

Sunwoo raises a brow–a challenge.

“That’s not what this song is about.”

You give him a pointed look. “What do you think the song is about?”

It’s his turn for the disbelief. “What do I think the song I wrote is about?” You don’t falter, not even for a second. Sunwoo grasps at the words, mouth agape. “It’s about redemption.”

“That’s too easy.”

“How is that too easy?”

“Look,” you huff, mouth opening and closing like you can’t decide what it is you want to say. You end up reaching your arm out, palm open like you want a fucking hi-five or something. In the back of his mind, Sunwoo wonders if you’re still waiting for the handshake he never gave. “Give me your original lyrics.”

“What about it?” Sunwoo asks, almost forgetting that he’s upset at Chanhee for this whole arrangement, nearly forgetting that he’s supposed to not be accepting any of your revisions because for the first time in so long, he’s able to really talk to someone about his lyrics.

You look up at him fully, and almost sadly, you say, “You really don’t get it, do you?” Sunwoo looks down at the lyrics you gave him, scanning them again. Funnily enough, that line is the only one of his you’ve kept.

“The song’s not about redemption,” you tell him. “It’s about guilt.”

—

Sunwoo, you, and the band end up recording your version of the song. It’s a good song. It’s still his melody, his hook, and his bridge, but almost none of the lyrics are his. Just like that, “Begin Again” becomes as much your song as it is his. If he wasn’t so angry at Chanhee, maybe he would’ve had the mind to notice how good you sound singing it.

Kim Sunwoo is an asshole.

That you learned in the recording studio with him and haven’t been able to get out of your head since. Unfortunately, he’s got one hell of a voice and gift for creating a good melody. And him and Chanhee together in the studio, god, they’re magic. You went out and purchased The Number’s previous record after you recorded “Begin Again”. You haven’t stopped listening to it since.

You nearly drop the four plates of burgers.

You rush over to the jukebox, not believing your ears, not believing that your voice, your words, your song is playing for the entire diner to hear.

And there, right at the bottom it reads: “Begin Again” by the Numbers ft. you

“Holy shit.”

You hear the bands’ voices come up from behind you.

“Hey,” Sunwoo says, coming up next to you and resting an arm on the same wood railing as you. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You answer truthfully. You could barely believe it when you got the call from Chanhee saying that they wanted you to play the festival along with the Numbers. Although, considering that your song is playing on every radio station, it probably shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

The crowd roars as the previous artist says his goodbye.

“Have you ever played for a crowd like this?”

“Nope.”

He nods slowly. “It’s a lot. The first time especially, for sure. But just go with it, and uh,” he smiles, towards the ground, “it’s a lot of fun once you get past the nerves of it all.”

You look at him, battling against the grimace forming on your face. “Is this pep talk for me or for you? Cause I’m fine.”

His smile disappears when he sees your face. You must’ve lost the battle.

He inhales sharply. “‘Begin Again’ is last. Come out after I introduce you.”

You nod, and he joins the rest of his band.

You hear Sunwoo sing the final words of the song and Kevin play the final chords. And you don’t know if its the crowd or the shot of vodka you took during the bridge or the fucking look Sunwoo gives you, but something, something, makes you forget what Sunwoo said about waiting and walk right onto that stage.

Jacob and Juyeon look confused. Sunwoo looks vaguely pissed. Kevin and Changmin barely notice. But you don’t register any of that. All you can think as you walk onto that stage, grin flashing and arms up in the air is: this crowd was fucking waiting for me.

You step up to your mic and wait until the crowd quiets down. You introduce “Begin Again” as a song you wrote. The crowd erupts. You look over at Sunwoo, smiling, no–grinning, loving how annoyed he looks. Juyeon doesn’t miss a beat, starting the song immediately. Your body moves on its own, dancing to the song, belting out each note, and loving every second of it. It’s sometime during the second verse, the one Sunwoo sings alone, that you notice how entranced he is. His eyes are half closed, and his fingers fly across his guitar like he’s not even thinking about it. He smiles at the crowd. You think you hear someone faint. He looks your way then, right before the pre-chorus, smiling still as if he wasn’t just glaring at you. It hits you almost instantly: nothing else matters to him right now. He’s in it, like really in it, and the only thing he seems to care about is putting on a good show. He’s loving this as much as you are, and maybe that’s enough to prove that you and Kim Sunwoo are more alike than either of you think.

You don’t even remember the song ending.

Music flows through Northside Tavern. A jazz band is playing today, and the piano player keeps making eyes at you.

“I heard the show over the weekend went well.” Chanhee says into your ear. You just nod. “And that the label really liked what you did with the song.”

You laugh. “Not just the label. The whole country liked it.” You give one last look to the pianist, before turning to Chanhee fully. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I have a number one single.”

You head over to the bar and ask for an old-fashioned.

“Not just you.” Chanhee yells behind you to be heard over the cheers after the band’s last song.

You pivot. “Excuse me?”

“It wasn’t just you.” Chanhee flags down the bartender, orders a scotch, neat. “It was the Numbers too.”

The bartender slides over three drinks.

You lean in over the counter. “We only ordered two.”

Wordlessly, the bartender points to the other side of the bar. The piano player holds up their drink. Chanhee grabs his drink, and you grab the remaining two. You lift them both up towards the pianist who gives you a rather charming smile, and then take a simultaneous sip from the straws of both drinks. You taste your old-fashioned and what seems to be a margarita.

You and Chanhee make your way over to a booth.

“What I wanted to say,” Chanhee continues, “is that the label likes you with the band, and they want you to make an album with them.”

“I think this is going to be a good thing.” Chanhee tells you sincerely, eyes softening. “You and Sunwoo…” he hesitates for a moment. You hate when he chooses his words like this, picking out the bad ones and testing out all the others. But perhaps you only hate it so much because you lack the ability to do it yourself. “You guys work.”

You take another long double sip of your drinks, squinting at Chanhee skeptically. “What did Sunwoo say?”

Chanhee’s mouth parts. There. There it fucking is. Running your tongue over your top set of teeth, you say, “you haven’t asked him yet, have you?”

“No, we haven’t asked him yet–”

“I can’t believe this.”

“–but the rest of the band is already on board, and we all thought it’d be smarter if you agreed before we asked him.”

You tilt your head slightly. You thought Chanhee knew you better than this. “I’m not saying anything until he does.”

“Be honest with yourself here,” Chanhee says seriously, pushing his drink to the side and leaning forward, “it’s no secret that you and Sunwoo don’t get along. And I get it; I really do. But I know you see it.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “See what?”

You don’t say anything after Chanhee finishes his little speech. Instead you reach for your drinks and finish them both in one long, prolonged sip. You ignore his annoyed ‘tsk’.

Putting the empty glasses down and to the side, you nod up at him, pursing your lips. “Are you done?”

He takes a long, final swig of his drink. “Yes.”

“Ask Sunwoo first.” You pull out your wallet and drop a couple bills on the table. “Then, you can call me.”

Today is already off to a bad start.

Sunwoo had come into the studio ready to record and knock out at least 2 or 3 songs off the album today, but then Juyeon wanted to talk about the album’s direction and Changmin wanted to request everyone to add as many drum parts as possible.

And it’s as he’s listening to Kevin and Changmin argue about the addition of piano solos, that you walk into the studio.

Chanhee welcomes you with a hug. Eric, the sound engineer, offers to make you tea. Meanwhile, Sunwoo can’t understand why you deserve any kindness at this moment. Your session started an hour ago.

“You’re late.” Sunwoo says, bringing the rest of the band to notice your arrival.

You look at him with a smile, gesturing to the two boys who were just arguing. “Doesn’t really look like I missed anything.”

“We were talking about the album’s direction.” Juyeon says from behind Sunwoo.

You nod, putting down your stuff and taking a seat. “Okay, shoot.”

Sunwoo puts his hands up. “Well since we’re talking about it. I’ve been working on a couple songs, and,” he hesitates, pulling out a couple sheets of paper that Chanhee helped him print and handing them out, “I think I might have something good that we can build the rest of the album off of.”

Everyone takes a moment to read. Sunwoo watches the room carefully. Jacob clears his throat. Kevin plays a loose note.

Your voice is the first that comes out of the silence. “Are you serious?”

He whips his head around. “What?”

He scoffs, tongue swiping at his lips. “Why not? They’re good songs.”

You shrug. “They’re cheesy.”

“You haven't even read the whole thing.”

“I’ve read enough.”

“Are–are you… is this–I mean, like, you…” Sunwoo only knows one thing for sure right now: you might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. “Chanhee!”

“Okay, you know what,” Chanhee’s voice comes through the intercom. You both turn towards it. “How about you two go home and figure out some way to work together instead of wasting my studio time. Write one song, just one, together, and the rest of us can go from there tomorrow.”

He slips a curse between a breath.

“Okay?”

You and Sunwoo look back at each other. It’s you who speaks first this time. “That’s fine with me.”

—

It’s a nice day out today. The sun shines through big clouds. There’s a nice breeze, and the roadways are empty. You’re sitting in the passenger seat humming something he can’t hear over the wind while Sunwoo drives. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know where he’s heading, but it might be the first time he's felt some semblance of peace with you around.

The announcer on the radio station introduces the next song. Sunwoo turns it up and sings alongside Kim Younghoon’s voice. You stop humming.

“You like this song?” You ask.

“I wrote this song.” You say to him, as if it’s the most simple thing.

“Oh, really?” Sunwoo replies with a chuckle. “You worked with Kim Younghoon?”

Sunwoo stops at a red light and spends it staring you in disbelief.

“Come on,” you say after a moment, “you really think Kim Younghoon wrote this song?”

Sunwoo listens to it again: They could never get it out of their heads. Like a scene on repeat. Like a mountain falling. Something unforgettable, but forgotten still. Something like you. Someone like me.

And instantly, it clicks–of course you wrote this song. Of course it’s the case that Kim Younghoon’s best song and one of Sunwoo’s favorites was written by none other than you.

Sunwoo changes the station thinking: why’d you let him take it?

Before he can really think about it any further, you sit up in your seat and point at the next light.

“Turn right up there. I know a place.”

—

When you had said that you knew a place, Sunwoo imagined that it’d be a coffee shop or an empty bar or anything other than the middle of the woods sitting on the rocks along a stream.

Although, he must give you credit: the setting you’ve taken him to is beautiful. There are birds humming and life strumming all around you. The water is a blistering blue that glistens and shines in the sunlight streaming through the trees like a million coins falling from the sky. The water has a small current running through it, and it beats against the rocks lightly, like the lightest, most gentle drum beat. The breeze is nice and cool on Sunwoo’s skin, sifting through his hair and past his limbs. And maybe the best part is how all around him, on every single side, he’s surrounded by green.

It would have been perfect, if not for the fact that you and him have been here for two hours and still have absolutely nothing.

“Okay,” you relent, after he turns down another one of your ideas for a song, “how about this melody?”

You start humming one of the worst melodies Sunwoo’s ever heard in his life.

“Absolutely not.”

You grunt frustrated, arms falling through the air. Your head follows suit, settling in your hands, face buried from his view.

“I didn’t.” Sunwoo reminds you. “Neither of us did. Chanhee kicked us out of the studio.”

“I don’t mean that.” You flare. “I mean letting me in to do this album with the Numbers. Why’d you agree to it?”

There’s a change in the wind. A sudden quietness that must be attributed to some insect dying. Sunwoo hadn’t expected you to ask this. He hadn’t even expected you to think it.

“It wasn’t…” he starts, looking for the words in the space between you and him. He looks up at you, hoping to find them there. Instead he finds hope in them.

Sunwoo has been in this exact spot before–sitting in front of someone that wants to believe in him and is asking him to give them a reason. He’s seen this before, and he has no interest in repeating his past mistakes. He sees no need to add you to the list of people he’s disappointed. With a short laugh, he says, “You know what, let’s just get back to writing.”

“Fuck that.” You respond immediately, grabbing at his guitar.

“What are you–”

Sunwoo gulps. “Which question should I answer first?”

You inhale slowly. “The latter.”

Sunwoo just shakes his head. “I don’t know you.”

“Ask me then.” You say desperately, like it should have been obvious to him, “whatever it is that you want to know just ask it.”

Sunwoo nods. In truth, there’s a million questions he wants to ask you about everything, but at this moment, all those questions sink to the bottom of his mind and only one rises to the top and travels to the tip of his tongue. “Why’d you let Kim Younghoon take credit for that song?”

His heart jumps into his throat. He’s barely able to choke out a, “guys like me?”

You nod, still refusing to meet his eyes. “Guys who don’t believe that I have what it takes.”

“I never said that.”

“But you showed me.”

“When?”

You look at him then, squinting. He hopes what you see is genuineness. He asked the question sincerely. “When you were so quick and ready to dismiss my changes to the lyrics during the ‘Begin Again’ takes. When you let me join your band on this album, and then expected me to sing an entire record full of songs that mean nothing to me. I’m a songwriter, Sunwoo. It’s the one thing about me that no one can take.”

Something between intrigue and malice slips in behind his tongue. “So what can people take?”

You shake your head, smiling ever so slightly. “My turn. What are you so afraid of?”

Sunwoo inhales sharply. “Well, I’m afraid of dying and of heights and–”

“Stop that.” You cut in, like you really mean it. “Why are you so afraid to say what you really think?”

Your eyes soften, and your smile lines deepen. It takes a moment for him to register that you're smiling, really smiling, at him. He’s never known a smile could feel so inviting.

“But what if they do?”

Sunwoo takes a moment to think about what you’ve said. And in that moment, whatever insect had died gets resurrected, returning to nature’s hum, filling his ears. Sunwoo looks all around him. The hum of life, the beat of water, the tune of leaves falling. He’s surrounded not just by nature and greenery, but also by music. And it’s erupting from every corner of these woods.

His eyes finally land on you.

“I think I found our melody.”

When you come into the studio the next day, the song is done. You went to sleep humming it still and running through the lyrics over and over again in your head.

“Let us sing it for you first,” Sunwoo suggests to the rest of the band with Chanhee listening in from the control room. “And whenever you feel like you got it, just hop in with what you think works, and we can refine and shape it from there.”

You watch the rest of the band as Sunwoo explains it. Juyeon looks shocked, but excited. Changmin looks proud. And you can’t really read what the other two are thinking.

“Chanhee, are we good?” Sunwoo asks, turning around to the window into the control room.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Chanhee replies, voice filtering in through the intercom. You nod. Sunwoo nods. The rest of the band nods. Chanhee presses a couple buttons and says, “This is ‘Can You See Me’.”

Sunwoo starts playing the chords he found yesterday. You’re not sure why or how but it reminds you of those woods. His voice starts singing the first line of the song. You close your eyes and take it in. You join him for the chorus, singing alongside his voice feeling the words flow. It’s Kevin that joins you two first, playing a couple loose notes, testing things out. By the end of the chorus, he’s found it, playing a little more confidently and adding a whole new level of depth to the song. A depth that makes you feel like you’ve only ever known two colors your whole life and in a matter of seconds Kevin added in a third. Jacob joins in next, as your voice takes over for the second verse, playing off what Sunwoo was playing but making it his own. Sunwoo goes over to where Changmin’s sitting and says something to him in his ear. Changmin nods. Sunwoo goes over to Juyeon, but Juyeon shakes his head, already starting to play something. Sunwoo heads back to his mic right before the second chorus starts. You turn and sing the last line of the pre-chorus to him

And I know that you never trusted me.

He joins you for the chorus, singing back.

Can you see me standing from there? And can you see the blood on my hands? If I give you all of the parts to my heart, Will you care that I’ve been scarred and stitched up?

Changmin starts playing then, the drums filling in the last thing the song needed. You listen to the rest of the band play and marvel at how insanely talented they all are to pick up and play something that actually works after only a minute of hearing it. The song needs polishing, yes, but it’s got a good sound and it’s heading in the right direction.

You don’t take your eyes off Sunwoo, and he doesn’t take his eyes off you. And for the remainder of the song, you sing to each other.

The song ends. The last one playing is Kevin. And for a couple seconds, no one says anything.

It’s Chanhee’s voice that comes out of the silence first. “I’m a fucking genius.”

You smile at Sunwoo. He smiles back.

After recording and polishing ‘Can You See Me’, you and Sunwoo fall into a song-making rhythm of sorts.

(We don’t always have it perfect.)

“I feel like this lyric in ‘Puzzle Pieces’ doesn’t fit.” You say to Sunwoo, before muttering the lyric outloud. “It’s too shy. I don’t know. I just think it’s missing the mark a little bit, don’t you think?”

Sunwoo groans tiredly. “God, I can’t think about this anymore. Can we take a break? Go get some food or something?”

“Yes, but before we do, do you think ‘I see us standing in the distance’ or ‘I see you standing in the distance’ works better here?”

Sunwoo just stands ignoring your question and muttering ‘no’ repeatedly.

You follow, running after him and begging him to listen.

(Boy, do we fight.)

“I think there should be more drums in the hook.” Sunwoo announces after the third run through.

“Why?”

His eyes widen, sarcastically. “Because there should be.”

“Don’t do that.” You scoff, used to his antics. “Answer the question: why?”

“I disagree.”

He scoffs. “All that for–”

“I think it works just fine without the drums, and if you add the drums it’ll become more suspenseful. The song is supposed to feel like falling.”

He shakes his head. “It’s supposed to feel like butterflies.”

“It’s supposed to feel like peace.”

(Sometimes you win.)

“Let’s vote.” Sunwoo suggests. “If you’re for the drums, raise your hand.”

Only Changmin (the drummer), does.

(Sometimes you lose.)

Chanhee presses the red button on the sound board, announcing to the recording stage, “Take 3 of Aurora. Sunwoo, try softening your voice a little for this one.”

“Chanhee, can we just try one take with me in it?” You ask him. “I think even if I were just singing a harmony or in the background of the bridge, it would add so much.”

“No.” Chanhee says, scribbling something down in his notebook. “I’m with Sunwoo on this one.”

“Chanhee, you haven’t even heard my–”

“This song doesn’t need your voice.”

(But sometimes, we get it just right and fit like the last two puzzle pieces.)

“No,” you say, shaking your head as Jacob and Juyeon finish off the last chords of the song, “It needs to sound murkier.”

Jacob, Kevin, Changmin, and Juyeon just stare at you blankly.

“Less cymbals, Changmin.” Sunwoo says over the speaker from the control room. “And Juyeon, ride out the low tones more.”

You turn and see him. He catches your eyes, smiling slightly, reassuring you. Like he gets you.

From behind you, you hear Kevin lightheartedly mutter, “since when do they have their own language?”

Jacob and Changmin laugh, but you barely notice because you see him. You see the way his brows furrow when he’s thinking. You see the way he sticks out his tongue when he’s focused. You see all of it.

And for a moment, he sees you. All of you. And he doesn’t turn away from it.

Today’s songwriting session quickly turned into a field trip from the studio to grab food which then turned into you leading Sunwoo’s car to the beach. You and Sunwoo sit on a stone ledge, right where the sand begins, 20 paces away from the ocean. Between you sits leftover fries and your untouched song notebook. You watch the sun dip into the sea and listen to the waves crash over and over again. The wind pushes furiously, tossing his hair to the side and pushes his head away from it. It just so happens that away from the wind means towards you.

“So,” you begin, popping a fry in your mouth and dusting the salt off your hands, “when are you going to answer my question of why you let me in the band?”

Sunwoo figured this question was coming. He’s been avoiding answering it. “You really want to know?”

You look at him sincerely. “Yes.”

Sunwoo looks out to the water. “After our first album, Chanhee prepared a tour for us. It was this tiny tour, not even big enough for a tour manager. We played in the smallest venues with okay-sized crowds. I mean, it was barely a tour, really more of a way to get our name out there. And after the northern leg of it, I…” Sunwoo closes his eyes and sees moments from that tour flash behind his lids: strobe lights, bodies in bed, empty glasses, and negative pockets. Sometimes memories can feel like nightmares. “I was just in a really, really, bad place. By the time we were halfway down the east coast, I was barely even able to play. Chanhee saved me then. He saved my fucking life. But he had to cancel the rest of the tour in that process. The rest of the band, man, they couldn’t even stand the sight of my face. Juyeon especially. It was Chanhee who ended up being the one to convince them to let me back in. I owe Chanhee my entire livelihood and my life. So when he asked what I thought about you joining the band for this album and when I saw how badly he wanted it to happen, I owed it to him to say yes.”

It’s been so long since he’s recounted that story, even to himself. It doesn’t hurt as much as it once did. That knowledge surprises him.

“Where are you now?” You ask suddenly, pulling him out of his head.

He turns to you. “What?”

“If you were in a bad place then, where are you now?”

The wind quiets for a moment; he feels a warmth overtake him in its absence. “Someplace better.”

He looks down, not even noticing the smile growing on his face, and catches sight of your notebook. He points at it, asking, “may I?”

You look down at it as well, grabbing another fry. “Sure.”

“Ah, that’s when I met Chanhee.” You tell him, smiling fondly. Sunwoo puts the notebook down and waits for you to explain. “Before him, I had songs, but they weren’t real songs, you know? They were just some combination of all the snippets and sentences I had written down. But then Chanhee heard me play at the Eastern, and said that I had a good voice. He asked if he could give me his card so that we could talk more, and I said that I wasn’t interested in people who only saw me for my voice and walked away.”

“You’re insane.” Sunwoo mutters, baffled. He remembers the chance encounter he had with Chanhee right after he and the band moved down here to make a name for themselves. He remembers how hard he begged for the same chance Chanhee offered to you so simply. “So, how’d you end up working with him then?”

Sunwoo chuckles. “So he’s always been an asshole then?”

“What was that song about?”

Your lips do this half frown thing that makes Sunwoo want to peer inside your brain and figure out exactly where it came from. “It was about what all songs are about.”

“Which is?”

You look at him like it’s obvious. “Love.”

It feels like a shot of sunlight through his veins.

Sunwoo drives you back home after the beach. You had gotten nothing done in terms of the album, but you felt happy, and you felt free. You watch him from the corner of your eye. You’ve only known each other for some months now, but it feels like so much longer. You’ve told him more about yourself and your past than anyone else you’ve met in your adult life. You’ve told him your deepest worries and darkest secrets, and he never turned away from you, not once. Instead he took your insecurities and turned them into beautiful melodies. He turned all your doubts into celebrations of hope. And he did it for you.

He turns onto your street. This is it, you think to yourself. He’s everything I’ve been waiting for.

He walks you to your door, and you stand facing each other on your porch.

“This was nice.” You tell him, taking another step towards him.

“It was.” He mumbles, a lazy smile on his face.

You take another step towards him. He doesn’t move back. His mouth parts. You watch his lips, trace them with your gaze. You think about what it would feel like to kiss them.

And you’re so wholly aware of the fact that his eyes are looking at your lips.

He turns away from you and glances at your door, saying, “I should go.”

You feel something in your chest sink and sink and sink.

“I’ll see you in the studio tomorrow.” He continues. “We still gotta help Kevin figure out his part for ‘Puzzle Pieces’.”

The next day, Chanhee cancels your studio time without explanation and reschedules you and the band for the following day.

When that day finally does come, Sunwoo doesn’t show up on time to help you and Kevin figure out the right notes to play for the song you wrote together like he said. Instead, he stumbles into the studio late with a song in his hand wearing the same clothes he wore with you at the beach. And that alone, feels like a betrayal of some sort.

“What’s it about?” Jacob asks.

He looks around the room, excited. “It’s about my new partner.”

You feel the urge to vomit all over the recording stage.

—

Luca, it turns out, is Sunwoo’s partner’s name. Sunwoo had brought them into the studio a week after they started dating, and they’ve been coming routinely ever since. As much as you hate it and as much as it makes your heart bend and break, Sunwoo looks really, genuinely happy with Luca. You wonder if he ever looked like that with you.

You really wish you hated Luca, but you don’t. They’re actually quite nice and get along with the whole band so easily. They even make friends with Chanhee. You thought they might be a distraction to Sunwoo while writing and recording, but Sunwoo is more focused and productive and creative than ever. The song he wrote right after meeting Luca is good, like stupidly good. There isn’t a single word in it that needs changing.

With your help, Sunwoo writes another song about them, called ‘Light of My Life.’ It’s while writing that song that you find out that Luca was never a stranger, and that day after the beach was not their first meeting. It’s Changmin who tells you how Luca is from their hometown and how Sunwoo and Luca used to date.

The day that you record ‘Light of My Life’ Luca is also in the studio, sitting in the control room and laughing at something with Eric.

You light up my life even when it’s dark. You both sing together. It’s an acoustic song; only Jacob stands behind you guys strumming the chords on his guitar. The rest of the band didn’t even come in today. You color my world even when I’m feeling blue. You glance over at Sunwoo. He isn’t looking your way. He’s looking at Luca through the control room window. When I’m with you, I never feel alone. You think about the times when he used to look at you while recording. When you hold me, baby, I feel at home. Luca looks back at Sunwoo. It hits you how beautiful they are, with dyed silver hair and slender face. You don’t blame Sunwoo for writing such a beautiful song about them. You don’t blame yourself for helping him. I can’t believe this has happened to me. Right before the next line, Sunwoo finally finally turns and looks at you. I feel alive because of you.

Sunwoo turns back to the control room. Sunwoo wrote this song for Luca, but he wasn’t the only writer on this song, and so, for the rest of the song, you wonder who the hell you wrote this song for?

—

A tune comes to you while you drive home that night. You scribble down a couple lyrics in your notebook as soon as you walk in your door.

Silver hair. Silver skin. Sliver of my heart you took with him.

Jacob throws a party that weekend. A housewarming for the house he bought with the ‘Begin Again’ checks. Stepping in through the foyer, you question whether you should be buying a house too. You forget that thought by the time you reach the drinks table.

After your hellos to the rest of the band and all the small talk with people Jacob wanted to introduce you to, you end up standing alone in his backyard, sloshing around the dark liquid in your cup. Truthfully, you’ve barely left your apartment all week. You hadn’t been in the mood for a party. But it’s nice out here. The air is fresh and crisp. The lights, which Changmin and Juyeon enthusiastically and drunkenly told you they helped put up, are warm but not too bright. You imagine you’ll stay out here for the rest of the party.

“Hi,” you hear a voice say from behind you. You turn around only to find Luca. You hope your face doesn’t betray you when you greet them back. “What are you doing out here?”

You gulp down a bitter sip of your drink. “Just wanted some quiet.”

“Same. Kevin started doing karaoke again.”

“Oof.” You groan sympathetically. “Already?”

They nod with a laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen all of them.”

You like Luca. You really do. It’s just taken you until now to realize that you don’t really know them apart from small talk in the studio and the two songs Sunwoo wrote about them. “When did you move down here from your guys’ hometown?”

“Oh.” Their chin juts out a bit. “I moved down with the band actually.”

You don’t hide the surprise on your face.

“I take it no one told you that then.” Luca chuckles darkly. You shake your head. “Uh, well, yeah,” they continue, shoving their free hand into their pocket, “Sunwoo and I started dating right when the band formed. I used to do the photography for them. And when they proposed moving out here, I thought I ought to come with. And I did.” They gulp their drink. “It was good for a while. Really fun in the beginning. But then I got my job taking pictures for the paper, and they were doing the album. And well,” Luca looks at you like you already know what their about to say. “It already wasn’t really working anymore by the time the album was finished. And then they went on tour…”

They leave that part blank. But based on what you heard from Sunwoo about that first tour, you can piece together what might’ve happened. You question whether Luca left that empty to spare Sunwoo or to spare themself. Then you question how they knew you knew about it.

“Oh.” Is all you say. You don’t ask about when they encountered each other again. You don’t want to hear it.

“You know,” Luca begins again, “I actually used to watch you play at the Tabernacle.”

You groan immediately. You only ever played at the Tabernacle when you first started. You cringe thinking about what you might’ve sang on stage in front of them. “Oh my god. I’m so embarrassed to even think about those days.”

“No! Don’t be!” They reassure, kindly. “You were really good. I especially liked that one song that went like… The days were wide open, as far as the eye could see.”

Your heart nearly soars straight out of your body. You had forgotten about this song. You used to love it dearly. You join Sunwoo’s partner for the second line.

The world was mine to take, but I’ve never been good at accepting things.

“You and the band together,” Luca says a moment after you both stop singing, “it’s magical, don’t get me wrong, but that song,” they smile at you, “it’s a damn good song.”

You can’t help but smile back. “Thank you.”

“Sunwool showed me a couple of the songs from the album.” Luca mentions, and it instantly and heartbreakingly reminds you who you’re talking to. “They’re amazing. They’re so good and real and raw that it almost makes me wonder…” their voice tapers off, losing the sound to a small exhale that appears as if it was meant to be a laugh, “Nevermind.”

“What?” You poke, instinctively leaning in towards them.

They meet your eyes, creases running along their forehead and frown lines more prominent than ever. “It almost makes me wonder if there was something between you both.”

You swallow, pointing at your chest. Your voice comes out raspy without you meaning for it to. “Me and Sunwoo?”

They nod. “Yeah, I mean the lyrics in ‘Begin Again’—“

“That song’s not about me. Or about him.” You defend. “We didn’t even know each other when we wrote that.”

“What about ‘Can You See Me’?”

Your breath catches. Truthfully, you answer, “I don’t know what that song’s about.”

—

When you get home that night, you finish the song you started writing about Sunwoo and Luca.

When you breathe in his lips, do you think of mine? What kind of songs were we making? Were they all lies?

“What’s it called?” The question comes from Changmin.

You look up from the paper in your hands filled with the lyrics you had completed over the weekend and after Jacob’s party. You notice he looks sad. You turn your gaze to Juyeon. You can’t really tell what he’s thinking at that moment.

“Uhm–I don’t know. I haven’t thought of a title yet.”

Sunwoo walks in then. “What are you guys talking about?” He asks, setting down his stuff. Then, more to himself than to you guys, he murmurs, “And where are Kevin and Jacob?”

Changmin and Juyeon don’t say anything. Instead, when Sunwoo asks what you’re doing, they both look at you. You imagine even if Kevin and Jacob were here, they’d do the same. Have you really been this transparent? At what point did they put together all the pieces?

You hand Sunwoo the song. You have no idea what his reaction will be.

He just nods, like he has no idea what the song is about. Like he doesn’t see his name and Luca’s scribbled in the margins.

“Call it ‘Silver Lies’.” He says.

Juyeon makes a noise. “Call it ‘Silver Linings’.”

“Vote on it?” Sunwoo proposes.

“No.” You look at Juyeon. He stares back at you. Something unspoken lies in the space between. “We’ll call it ‘Silver Linings’.”

You don’t even know how long it’s been.

This is what you do know: You’re sitting by a pool. Your feet are wet. You haven’t been this drunk since your 18th birthday. Kim Sunwoo is standing across the pool from you.