#anyway. see u all again when the next recital chapter drops

[canarymemories]

hi finally compiling the thread i made the other day on twt abt the first chapter of recital so. welcome to me having far too much to say about my big bang fic skgh

chapter titling is similar to symphony (leo day fic) but instead of music terms, it's ballet terms. i'm nowhere near as used to ballet terms as i am w music terms so they won't have a deeper meaning (at least not on purpose lmao) like some of the symphony chapter titles do, but that's part of why there's nine chapters

a small aside: there is a specific structure i have in mind for the fic. there will be three arcs (if u want to call them that), the first three chapters is the first arc and then there will be an intermission chapter (up to this point is as far as i've confidently planned out so past this point, i can't guarantee anything but. nine chapters is the goal adkgsh). so then chapter 4 and 5 are arc two followed up by another intermission, then the final arc will be chapters 8 and 9. the plan is to stay mostly canon compliant until i don't agree w akira (or kinosei aslkhg), so i'll pretty much be sticking to the canon timeline

please listen to the playlist akdhg most of the songs do correspond to specific things/chapters so it's tied to the story itself plus i've listened to it too many times so. please tell me i'm so right about it 😔 the song i used in the summary of the first chapter is more of a chapter 2 song but i felt like it fit for the first chapter so adkgh (i have. So Many songs for checkmate so. can't wait for that one lmao) (chapter 1 songs are the first four in the playlist, the 5th one could go either way between ch 1 and 2) once more is posted, then i might actually sit here and go on abt why each of these songs is specifically here

writing choices 🎉 the one i want to talk about so so so so bad is the using nicknames in the narration bc if you've read literally anything else i've posted, you'd see that i don't do that, but bc recital is so close to izumi as the narrator, and this chapter is focused on his childhood, i thought it was fitting. there are a few instances of this changing throughout the chapter, such as makoto going from yuukun to makoto in the one flashback section and then staying as makoto when izumi is older, naru eventually changes to arashi.

and the one i really want to bring up,,, izumi's parents are always referred to as mama and papa but there is one singular instance where that's changed and that's during the argument at the end of the chapter.

and then she's referred to as mama again a few paragraphs later and this just goes into the point that i think izumi has a very complicated relationship with his parents. on one hand, they don't support him as an idol and have quite literally told him to his face that he's not successful enough to make it on his own as a model (next door), have treated him more like a doll than their child and they couldn't be bothered to actually ask him what he was interested in, but he still cares about them. he gets offended on their behalf more than once (in ! era at least), but it's just,, complicated. i feel like i can't really properly explain my thoughts here but i have Thoughts. but this is where the vaguely toxic parenting warning comes in from this chapter because the thing is, i don't think his parents were planning for him to feel the way he does about their parenting, they do love him and they do want to have him succeed just. maybe not for the right reasons, yk? ofc that doesn't justify their treatment of him or anything like that, there's just more to it than outright toxic parenting hence why it's subtle here.

what's a little less subtle is izumi's mom living vicariously through him, it's a bit more obvious with the modeling bit than the dance classes but idk it makes sense to me for her to have done them as a child too

baby modelgumi,,, they get their own point here bc i think those might've been my favorite bits to write and genuinely, the baby arashi bit is my favorite part of the whole chapter. they're just so alsdkgh oeugh cute i want to squeeze them in my hands 🥺🥺🥺. my note for this on my list of things to talk about is literally "baby modelgumi :pleading:" they hold a special place in my head and i hope in urs too

i was going to list stories reference but i might wait until i have more done and posted for that (plus i can't remember what story it is that arashi mentions izumi pushed her mouth into a smile as kids) but. portrait and canary hall mentions 🎉🎉

the argument. it's implied a few times in ! that izumi's parents don't really agree with him being an idol (leo says izumi was having isses at home around checkmate/war era). given that they put so much time and effort into having izumi model, i suppose that wouldn't be too surprising, but i think it's important to have some kind of breaking point like the argument scene bc in next door, izumi talks about how his parents treated him growing up and that just makes me think that he probably didn't have much say in his own life and there's just something about being an idol being his first big decision that idk hits a little different and there is more to an extent on this concept in the next chapter in comparing himself to leo and just kind of being like ,, huh...

last thing, so aside from the ending of the beginning section of the chapter, i feel so smart about the ending line of this chapter bc mama's pancakes come up in portrait and there's even a baby izumi homescreen line about it and it's meant to serve as an apology rather than her actually apologizing but i feel like u could take it a few ways but akhg felt so smart when i came up w the ending of the chapter. and i felt the same way when i thought of the first chapter ending and u guys will not like me for that one btu aksdgh <33

baby's first friendship next time 🎉🎉🎉🎉

[iid-smile]

can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji

a strong legacy to be left behind , chapter one

the series masterlist. | previous | next

cw: profanity, mentions of pregnancy (pills) but filtered for megumi's sake, mentions of violence in prison, you're broke, smoking cigarettes

author's note: sigh... im out of my fluff era 😞 (sorry guys) kinda wanted to write something that i think would actually happen in some sort of alternate jjk universe and um idk how far to go because this kind of stuff does happen in the manga, but writing it feels illegal??? idk...

"mom?" megumi peeks out from around the corner in the hallway. "who was calling?"

another groan escapes your lips, around the fifth one in the last three minutes, and you silence your phone once again. "your— excuse my language, shitty deadbeat dad keeps wanting to call me." you slap your hand across your forehead and lean back on the couch, a small creak coming from somewhere below. "apparently he's getting aggressive in prison. shut off the house phone, but they still found my number..."

your son comes closer to you, and you scoop him up, placing him by your side. he glances up at you, and you swear your fight or flight instincts nearly kicked in, (not that you'd be able to fight of a guy as big as toji anyways) flinching slightly from his sharp gaze. it sucks how he looks so much like his dad, because you loved megumi so much. but the image of that guy was almost too much to bear, and he's the spitting image.

"shitty?" he repeats. for a well-behaved kid, he really doesn't respect your words.

"don't say that megs, it's bad language." you swear around him all of the time, so what's the point in scolding him? "only your mama can say it."

"don't tell me what to do."

wow. okay. why do you feel threatened by a six year old? "damn, you've got his attitude too." you mutter, but you've only got yourself to blame for that. you knew you were never cut out to be a mother, so your ways of parenting weren't the best.

he snuggles closer to you, and you openly accept, moving your free hand to his hair to rub over it. "why can't i see toji?"

ah, this lovely story again. "because he left me as soon as you were born, love." really, you couldn't and didn't want to stop yourself from wrapping him up in your arms, feeling the need to protect him. "at this point, he's dead to me. seems like he doesn't feel the same though... i'm so sick of his ass." you also knew it wasn't good parenting to rant to your child about adult issues, but you've only got him to talk to.

that hug was out of comfort then. why are you lying to yourself?

he looks up at you with an irritatingly cute but blank face. "why?"

"god, i hate how many questions you ask." you speak under your breath once again, looking up at the ceiling from any sort of help from a higher being. the amount of times you've had to family-friendly-ify things that have happened isn't even funny. you're not naturally rated u for universal. it's more embarrassing when he recites those same stories to his teachers, and you get called into the school for a little talk.

yikes... here we go. "he lied when he said he gave me the right magical candy after we visited the stork. tried to make it drop you off back to where babies are made in heaven, but i wanted it to deliver you to me, whether he liked that or not." the story's got to be a little filtered somehow. you'd rather not get yourself in the principal's office again. "you're my little hero; a miracle to me. i would've given up on myself ages ago. your dad is a bad, bad man."

the type that would kill. if he found where you lived, or perhaps where megumi goes to school...

"and now i'm left broke in an apartment that barely functions, yet i still spoil my little hero." you sing-song, leaning your head back. "and with what money? i'm broke as hell, megs. can't even make both of us breakfast in the morning cuz your elementary school is too damn expensive."

"is this my fault?"

"...no. no, baby, of course not." you furrow your eyebrows more, a small pout in your lips. "if anything, you made my situation a bit more fortunate."

it's a selfish way of thinking, using your child to avoid solving your problems, using your child to wail and complain about how much you hate your life, but you've got nothing to lose. nothing to lose except for the one person you love.

you can feel your phone buzzing again.

"you stay here and watch tv, okay? mama's gonna go to the kitchen and talk to her friend." he seems a bit relieved as you let go of him, and you stand up.

you hear him mutter. "it's only playing the news though..." no shit it only plays the news, you can't afford to get a good television company that has any kids shows. that is, unless you wanna get scammed out of all of your money.

begrudgingly, you make your way to the kitchen, confirm that you closed the door completely, and answer the vibrating device. "hello?" you sigh, placing the device over your ear.

the other person on the call replies quickly. "is this miss—"

"yeah, yeah, it is. what the hell do you want?"

"um... we apologise, but we strongly suggest that you come to the prison building. he—" the guy's voice cracks. must be really nervous. "pardon me. he's been physically assaulting other inmates and guards, he doesn't follow orders, he never leaves his cell unless it's to visit the closed visits room. you know, in hopes that you'll come..."

obsessed much? where was this energy six years ago? "that's got nothing to do with me."

"please, ma'am. he won't listen to anyone, and we are unable to place him into special facilities as he doesn't emit any cursed energy." ah, he's begging? that's a first. you never would've thought you'd hear a person who works at a prison begging.

cursed energy, cursed energy, this talk again and again and again. "urgh..." you take a deep breath. your options are limited, and they won't stop calling until they can get that lunatic to calm down... surprise, surprise, you really don't want to go.

but if you were really uninterested in him, wouldn't you have already spent the bail money that's been sat on the counter for ages, neatly concealed in an envelope? wouldn't you have paid off all of your debts already? "will i— hm..." choose your words carefully, goddamn it. "can i get a reward of some sort if i go? money?"

"yes, yes! please do visit. there's nothing we can legally do to him in check anymore." ...you think this guy sounds a little too eager.

damn toji and his "supernatural powers", or else you wouldn't get yourself into this mess. finally, after your moment of silence, you respond. "okay. i'll visit."

"thank you—!" you cut off the line.

"fucking bastard..." you drop your phone on the counter, running your hands through your hair and over your face. "stressing me out for what? you don't even love me." your words turn into whispers. with haste, you rummage through your back pocket, trying to find those last few cigarettes, but as your hands were occupied, your eyes moved over to the ashtray that was collecting dust on top of the microwave. oh, right... you don't smoke anymore because there's no ventilation indoors.

you'd have to head out if you wanted to, but then megumi would be in the apartment on his own. and nobody can babysit, because you don't have anybody to ask to babysit. great, you can't smoke until monday. it's a friday afternoon. you have two whole days to get through!

you know for a fact your addiction won't hold out for that long.

[fanfic-scribbles]

Dinner Date Chapter 25

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 25: Most Girls

Chapter Summary: Steve is very attractive. Staking a claim, though, is too complicated. What to do…

Chapter Word Count: 906

A/N: I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post this, but it’s kind of cute and I’m still working on stuff. Please enjoy and hopefully I will see you with something more substantial next month <3

~

Steve did end up in the weirdest situations sometimes.

Like, even for him it wasn’t normal to have no less than three people hit on him in the span of a single morning, and yet here I was, watching a particularly pernicious panther of a woman latch on with teeth and refuse to let go.

Maybe I was a little bored if that sounded like more fun than seeing this lady lay her perfect nails on his arm and not take a hint about it until he sloughed her off. Admittedly it was a nice manicure, understated with a very pretty color and shine, but still. The first person to hit on him was forgettable, but I missed the gym bro; at least he had been kind of sweet about the whole thing. To the point I was a little jealous– if Steve was single, I bet he would have gone for him. As well he should, but it was hard sometimes not to feel like dead weight when looking at such a nice and handsome guy flirt fairly sweetly with my boyfriend.

Not so with this one. She had a good body she obviously took the time to care for, an absolutely gorgeous sleeve tattoo of skulls and flowers and other things covering one of her well-toned arms, and she wasn’t so self-conscious she couldn’t immediately do a U-turn on her run and come talk to Steve with a flushed face and fly-aways in her pretty red hair. However, Steve was not into it, and still she pushed. It was grating, but hard to know how to deal with when Steve had forgotten his phone at home so we couldn’t fake a text, and I couldn’t just wrap my arms around his other one to make a point. Then again, if I did that, she’d probably spend enough time laughing at the thought that we could make a clean getaway.

It would probably be better than listening to how she was ‘so different’ from her co-workers and friends and would rather spend a weekend watching sports and drinking beer than going out for wine and mimosas, and did she mention all the self-defense and martial arts classes she took? It was…fine, if that was what she liked, but I was a little offended on behalf of the very nice co-worker I once had shared cubicle walls with who loved brunch and sundresses, and who also loved baseball so much she could recite stats at the drop of any of her very fashionable hats. Or the lady in payroll who had negative interest in comic books, who nevertheless sought out advice and spent lunch breaks doing research on them because her nephew was coming to live with her and she wanted to help him feel at ease, so she dove into what he liked so they could have something to talk about.

‘Girl’ was such a stupid category; what even counted for what ‘most’ liked anyway?

Steve nudged me and I looked up. “Time?” I asked, and because the lady was looking at me like she didn’t know what to make of me, I pulled out my phone in case I did have to pretend to be on the way to something.

“Yeah, don’t wanna be late,” Steve said, catching on, and I stood up. I gave the lady another glance and felt taken aback at just how disappointed she looked. Sort of…lonely. It made me a little sad, honestly.

“I really love your tattoo,” I said, because it was a work of art and I imagined that had been ninety-percent of Steve’s focus when trying to find something to talk about that wasn’t dating. “It’s beautiful.”

She actually gave me a nice smile. “Thank you,” she said. She nodded at Steve, and after they exchanged polite goodbyes, she went on with her run.

“She wasn’t so bad,” Steve said as if trying his best to concede a point in her favor.

I rolled my eyes and walked right next to him. “She made you uncomfortable.”

“Honestly I wonder if that’s just my default with people these days,” he said. “That guy was nice and still I… Maybe I’ll just never get used to people hitting on me.”

“It probably sucks.” I bumped into him. “Sorry I can’t be a good possessive partner and stake a claim in public or whatever.”

He snorted and when I looked, he had a little wry smile. “Why do I get the feeling even if we were public, you’d let me fend for myself?”

“Eh, I might if you really wanted me to.” I looked around and, seeing no one looking, dipped my head against his shoulder in a very brief but very blatant show of affection. “By the way, sorry but I am like most girls. I hope that isn’t a dealbreaker.”

He snorted, and his smile grew. “You? Really?”

“Yeah. I’m also like most women, most men, most boys, and most other genders, because most girls, like most humans, are actually really fucking weird,” I said. “Hope you can deal.”

He shook his head and sighed dramatically. “Wow. I don’t know how I’ll handle the shock of this completely unexpected revelation about you; I– ow did you just twist my nipple?!”

I smirked and moved away from him, even though we were coming out to a busier street and he couldn’t get away with returning the favor. He did move to get closer to me though, scowling and looming, and I laughed. “I sure did,” I said and grinned at him. “Stop the sarcasm though and I’ll save the rest of it for when we get home.”

He grumbled and rubbed his chest. But he did, notably, stop the sarcasm.

~

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[weyheyjxlya]

０４． Ｏｕｔ ｏｆ Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ

𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌

*•.¸♡ synopsis ♡¸.•*

You came to watch the Schweiden Adlers vs. MSBY Jackals with your childhood best friend Yachi and the squad. First-year squad. And that includes Tsukishima Kei. That tall, blonde, gorgeous, salty, and once was yours but you got to let go four years ago. With hearts thumping loud and thoughts screaming out on its own. “I miss you. I’ve missed you to the point that I can’t breathe. I miss you, please be back” These words are just waiting to be spoken like some kind of soulmates telepathy. Will they be able to say it? Will they still be able to fulfill that promise? or…

*•.¸♡ warning: manga spoilers! | curses

*•.¸♡ reminder: every chapter has its own music to listen to. just click the lyrics  which is the first quoted paragraph right after the banner. listen to it while reading the chapter if you want to. after this au is done, I'll compile all songs and create its own playlist in Spotify that you can listen to.

m.list | 03 | 04 | 05

“No matter where you are You'll always have my heart No matter where you are I'll love you from afar”

"and I refuse to drink with anyone who doesn't appreciate Kahlua and milk" Tsukishima exclaimed "Stingyshima," you mumbled thUd pshshshshshshhh Suddenly, the sound of magazine dropping startled the four as Tsukishima dropped his pamphlet due to the shock that the person that he didn't see nor hear for the past four years was now in front of him breathing and still, ever so lovely. His heart sung a lullaby as the sight in front of him tug his heartstrings. His ears rung as he heard your voice like it’s some sweet melody. He felt his blood rush through his veins as he registers your image through his brain. You've changed. Physically but not wholly because he hoped that you're still the same person that he fell in love with. You looked happier. He knows that you're a renowned writer now and now achieving the dream that you've discussed with him over the time that you're together. You looked blooming. With no hesitation, he fell in love with you over again. "Ahh, It's Y/N, she's here. Finally, you're here. I've missed you love." he thought to himself sweetly. "But you looked so fine right now. Maybe you've got someone greater right now. Damn, he's so lucky. Maybe I just don't dwell in your life anymore." he realizes as sadness pooled his heart suddenly from the thought that there's no more hope of loving you again anymore. His inferiority complex got its way again. ~~ "Uhm, earth to our Stingyshimaaa" you've jokingly said as you tried to keep things natural. You and Yachi waved your hands to him in unison whilst Yamaguchi's helping Tsukishima with his dropped business. Tsukishima pretended as if nothing happened as he fixed his posture as soon as he took the pamphlet from Yamaguchi's hand and adjusted his eyeglasses as he continued to dwell himself into the pamphlet. "Oh, you're back," Tsukishima uttered calmly but his stomach's lurching from the thought that he can never feel your hold again. 

Everything's kinda uncomfortable because you're not in the same class with your childhood best friend Yachi. But no, you've decided to be strong, like headstrong! "I'M AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN!" you kept on to yourself to the point that it's starting to be your daily mantra from now on. So you fixed yourself, your posture, and you got rid of that uncomfortable state of yours and have started to look around the class and just started observing.

From:  You

To:  Yacchan  (｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject:  Separated

Why are we separated Yacchan?? (-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩___-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩)

~~~

From: You

To:   Y/N-chan  (｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject:   Re: Separated

I don't even know but any guys over there? (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

~~~

From:  You

To:  Yacchan  (｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject:  Simp

Hmm I see one. And he's beside me. 

He lookin sooo fineee...  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (ﾟοﾟ人))

~~~

From: You

To:   Y/N-chan ��(｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject:   Re: Simp

⊙.☉

Chattering voices flooded, arms linking its way to another, utensils clacking, and bentos making its sounds around the room, you felt uncomfortable again. "Urgh" you exclaimed to yourself as loneliness and sun rays kept making its way onto you. "Huh?" suddenly, heat crept its way onto your ears and cheek as this tall and blonde guy that you're talking about with Yachi opened his book and slouched his body onto the table with a book in his hand as he swiftly blocked the sunrays that have been annoying the hell out of you since earlier. "Tsuki!! let's eat lunch!!" the green-headed boy exclaimed as he happily approached and invited this unknown specie. "Shut up Yamaguchi" he swiftly shut him down. harsh geesh. "Gomen Tsuki!!" he apologizes "But may I ask? aren't you hot from that sunray that's been hitting you? how long have you been sitting there? Do you want to transfer at my seat?" he continuously asked "Nah, I'm focusing here and sunlight directly produces my body's vitamin d requirement. So just shut up." You silently giggled upon his response to who is it? Oh, Yamaguchi. It's so damn good but you're thankful. Thankful for his wonderful action for you. "Wait? is it really for me?" you stuttered, suddenly waking yourself up from daydreaming. "Nah, hahaha maybe that's just a usual setting for him way back junior high" you reasoned out as you thought that this wonderful boy's actions aren't for someone like you. So you just kept on observing people, but despite taking back your wonderful thoughts about him. Still, this so-called Tsukishima piqued your interest and started doting your attention to him.

Classes started fine and good. You got comfortable with people inside your class. You didn't encounter any problems because you are indeed an independent woman! You can carry yourself in all kinds of situations because that's how adaptable you are. You're adaptable to situations because of your environment and how you're supposed to be like that. Everything's normal until you came on par with somebody. Everybody in your class is scared of how heated your rivalry is when class recitations are starting. It's known among teachers and students. L/N Y/N who excel supremely in studies and does crazy stuff to get by. On the contrary, Tsukishima Kei who's calm, goes by the principles. and doesn't give a fight. Doesn't give a fight. Most frequently, Tsukishima, your rival always admits his defeat as he doesn't put up much effort as he always says that he cannot overpower you that has superior intelligence than him who just read and goes by the principles.

"Come! Sit here Y/N-chan!! Yachan!!" Yamaguchi shouted over the chattering sound around the gymnasium while pointing over the bench where Tsukishima is sitting. While settling down the bleachers and preparing for the match that's about to start in about 20 minutes. You felt your phone vibrating.

"Oh gotta go down for a while. Omi-kun just texted me and I'll surprise him from the back and wish him good luck for the game," you told Yachi excitedly "Omi-kun? Do you mean Sakusa Kiyoomi?" Yachi asked and you nodded excitedly "OMG, HOW COME?? AND OMI-KUN? THAT GERMAPHOBE? YOU GOT TO BE CLOSE WITH HIM?" Yachi asked shockingly and she cannot believe whom you're acquainted with.

slap

"YAMAGUCHI! Do you have any beer left there? May I take a little sip? Oh, Hitoka-san, you love museums, right? I can get you discounts for its admission fees. Even for its events and else. I can get it for you. You can even take Y/L/N-san with you. I'll be working there next year anyway." Tsukishima halted with the sound of a pamphlet closing combined with a clap from the sound of his hands clashing together.

*•.¸♡ a/n: ahck one week with no update huhu sorry minna-san!! got caught up with exam and job applications. gomen. will do my best for the next one. n e way, love my experiments with this chapter. i did two generations of texting. first is by email and next is the modern one. that's a cool experience, I would say haha. so ya, thank you minna!!  it's tomorrow huhu  (╥﹏���)

*•.¸♡ taglist ♡¸.•*  @maviiiiic @differentballooncollection @keikink​ @kodzu-ken​ @soleil-sole (will still tag u hehe :3)

[dreamgloe]

808s & heartbreak | chapter one

as newly minted staff producer at bighit, you are lucky for the opportunity but even luckier when you catch the artistic (and otherwise) attention of one of its most formidable artists. however, a past you’ve condemned to remain as such has threatened to drag you back out to sea.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: idolverse warnings: angst, some fluff, possible adult content in future chapters words:  10,760 author’s note: remember, side a is fic feels, side b is songs mentioned or song inspiration. this was a long time coming and eventually i’ll put a link out to a full spotify playlist. would love feedback, thoughts, asks, etc. i’m really soft for (1) min yoongi. thank u for coming to my fic and my ted talk.

SIDE A: Dreamer by Axwell /\ Ingrosso | Give Yourself A Try by The 1975 | Do My Thang by Miley Cyrus | Dance To This by Troye Sivan ft. Ariana Grande | DNA by Kendrick Lamar | Star by Bazzi  SIDE B: Anti- by Jvcki Wai | Gossip Folks (ft. Ludacris) by Missy Elliott | Ay (ft. Silly Boot) by Hash Swan | Tear by BTS | Outro: Do You Think It Makes Sense? | Supernova by HTHAZE

It was an honest mistake.

That’s what they said anyway. But it wasn't really that honest. 

After you had submitted all of your materials, you found the detail that probably should have stopped you from submitting. ‘Male. Born 1998 and after.’ Some could claim that you saw it, didn’t care, and submitted anyways. But you submitted under the songwriting category and your singing of the song wasn’t a red flag at all. Could have been your sister, a friend, anyone.

But it was you.

And when you showed up to your second round audition with nothing but a microphone, your looper, and a cascade of messy hair under a beanie--your best one you would say, you weren’t an animal--you were looked at in confusion. Everyone was too shocked to say anything as you quickly got into your song, clearly intrigued with your set up. Laying down a few quick vocal beats and harmonies over one another, you launched into the lyrics. Music was usually the one thing that didn’t provoke a stream of anxiety and apprehension.

It wasn’t hard for you to get taken away by your own music. It was only a verse and a hook but you made it feel like it lasted forever. At least, it had felt like that long to you.

‘Magical mystery nights, fairy lights. You looked at me like I was one of the sights. I always think of your soju-breath that night, And how you said our love was worth the fight.’

It was easy to pour the emotion into the song as you sang, even though you’d rather die than consider yourself a performer. Singing one of your more intimate, personal original songs was always a risk but hopefully it was one that would pay off. The moment made you think of a quote your sister would often recite to you, one by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.

“Well-behaved women rarely make history.”

You always took that quote to mean in a male dominated industry, playing it safe would never get you noticed. This moment in time could either change your life or set you back a few steps. When you finished, you used your toe to turn down the sound and turn off the looper. You couldn’t hear anything but your own breath among the silence. You were sure they would dismiss you because you were a girl and not a boy. It was a blessing and a curse that your parents gave you a unisex name.

An older man with glasses sat at the table next to a younger woman probably in her late thirties. They looked at you in silence while glancing down at the papers in front of them.

“Y/L/N Y/F/N,” the man says with a chuckle, peering over his glasses at page, presumably with your submitted information on it.

He said something into the woman next to him’s ear and she nodded before taking a few notes in her own notebook. You couldn’t hear what they said but you know what was coming. You held the microphone that connected to your looper tightly in your hand.

You took the risk...but it wasn’t paying off.

“I take it that it was you singing on your first audition tape, then?” he asked. You looked for a sign that didn’t lead to disappointment but you couldn’t read his face. You knew exactly what he was digging for.

“Yes, it was,” you said simply and honestly. You could feel yourself pressing the balls of your feet into the wooden floor below you. Another rejection under your belt, you could feel it coming. You’d auditioned for one or two other small companies, ones that were geared more towards hip hop but they went in other directions. BigHit was the only other company you really wanted to work with. You could feel your eyes prickle at the nervous anticipation buzzing through you right now

“You know the audition notice said we were looking for males, right?” he asked, the woman next to him interlocking her fingers in front of her on the table. Your hand started to sweat around the microphone while your your free hand reached up to untangle a knot at the ends of your long hair.

“I did...after it was too late,” you said, laughing at yourself, trying to smooth over the situation, “I’m obviously not very good at reading directions.” It was true. The moment you pressed send, you then realized they were only looking for males. They were obviously looking for more guys for whatever group they were trying to put together. You’d heard they were holding additional auditions just in case, even though they already had a lineup they were working with. You were in fact not male and you were born in 1996, two years old than what they were looking for. You couldn’t stand the silence from both of them, so you continued against your mind’s better judgment. “I didn’t expect to even hear back,” you said, “So when I did...I thought, why not?”

“Hmmm,” was all the man said. It was the woman’s turn to whisper something to the older man. He sighed and shuffled all his papers together.

“Despite the minor deceit, it’s obviously that you are talented. We’d love to have you meet with some of our producers and if that goes well, possibly the talent we think you’d be a great fit working with,” he said. You didn’t know if you heard had correctly but when the woman smiled at you, your stomached settled slightly and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” you say, bowing to both the man and woman.

“We will email you to set up a meeting with part of our producer team. It was really refreshing to see a talented young woman such as yourself come in,” the woman said, speaking for the first time. You couldn’t help but smile back at her. There was something in the woman’s eye that you could grasp. Pride? A common acknowledgment between women in the music industry?

You hoped it was all the above.

Your meeting with the producing team happened two weeks later. It was at 4pm on a Tuesday and you had loaded up as USB drive, your iPad, your laptop with everything you could think of bringing. You overprepared, putting all of your devices into your bulky, plain backpack. You had the ugly thing since high school and couldn’t bear to part with it. It probably had a few cough drops at the bottom from your last year of high school, maybe a granola bar hidden one of the million of pockets. But that was fine because you had everything you needed. Hopefully you’d be able to provide that to the people you’d be meeting with.

Before leaving your apartment, you looked in the mirror. You wore a royal blue sweatshirt, dark black jeans, some sleek boots with cutouts on the side. With your signature beanie--the one you wore to your audition--you knew that this was as good as you were going to get. You weren’t very girly and sometimes, you felt self-conscious about it. But you felt at your most comfortable and at ease when you were in jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt. You felt cozy and you could feel your anxiety quickly slipping away. But you hated to admit that you didn’t even own a dress. You thought to yourself, though, because wasn’t like you were going to wear one or a suit of any kind to this meeting. You were meeting with music producers, for God’s sake. You still wanted to impress, though. This could be your chance to work with one of the most buzzed about music companies in the country, one that you actually admired.

And you were lucky when they didn’t kick you out at the audition for not reading directions.

You easily arrived at the Big Hit offices. When you checked in, you were given a water bottle and asked to wait. Two minutes past four, you were ushered into a conference room with six people already sitting at a sleek, modern conference table. Everyone at the table got up to shake your hand and you reciprocated, bowing in respect as you did so. After taking a seat, the woman who was in your audition came in, shut the door, and sat at the head of the table. Everyone quickly settled in for the meeting.

“Everyone, this is Y/L/N Y/F/N, the one we found through the open audition,” the woman said, smiling. A bit of excitement shifted through the group. You smiled at the group, gripping the hem of your sweatshirt tightly, needing something to hold on to in order to not just internally combust.

“Oh she’s the one that couldn’t read the audition notice?” one of the producers asks. He looks nice enough, wears glasses, and looks like he hasn’t ever worn a suit in his entire life. You try not to look embarrassed but it’s hard not to when a handful of the other producers laugh.

“Yes, she is.” the woman says, “but it’s hard to ignore talent. I know some of you have seen the tape but we’ll play it again as a quick refresher.” You wait until the lights go out and the video is pulled up to hide your face in your fingers. You hated watching yourself on tape and listening to your singing voice. The tape started up, showing you almost tripping over the cord of your looper mic.  

You heard the lyrics come through the conference room speakers and you wanted to disappear. Seeing other people react to a video of you projected onto a big screen, singing a rather personal song, made your stomach clench and the breath catch in your throat. You’d hoped that someone would whisper or talk to the person next to them while the video was playing to ease the tension in your head and in your heart but everyone remained silent until the lights came back up.

“Wow,” said a voice. You saw a woman, probably the only other female producer at Big Hit. The one who went by ADORA. She definitely had been one of your inspirations to audition. The only female staff producer at Big Hit.

All  the producers were starting to talk amongst one another, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of sweat appearing. You looked from the female executive from your audition to the rest of the group, letting your eyes wander around the room, too embarrassed to keep your vision in one place. Why were you like this? Couldn’t even confidently take a compliment.

“I’m glad that you all could meet with Y/N today. I wanted to get everyone together to get to know her. I also asked her to bring some of her other work. I know we are about to gear up on some big projects and I thought she might be a good addition to the production team,” she continued.

A tall man sitting towards the middle raised his hand to speak, “Why don’t you play some of your work. Maybe the full length version from your audition song and maybe one of your favorites?”

“Sure,” you said, trying not to fumble with the backpack between your legs. You push yourself out to get into the bag. You grabbed your laptop, trying not to make a bunch of noise while doing so but failing, and pulled up the full length file of your audition song. Testing the volume, it’s definitely loud enough for all the producers in the room to hear it. With a quick breath, you press play. While your looper played a part in the recording, there are other instruments--guitar and piano specifically--and all the producers at the table quiet to listen.

It’s the longest two and a half minutes of your life as they listen. Your fingers drum against your thighs as the song soars to it’s climax, your nails digging a bit into them as well, palms sweaty. This song is is raw for you but that’s something you don’t want to let on.

It ends and everyone sounds and looks pleased as you look around.

It was then that you realized there was someone sitting in an armchair on the far side of the room. Arms folded over one another, bucket hat low over their eyes. But your attention is pulled away when someone else at the table speaks up.

The producer eagerly says, “What else do you have?”

You quickly sift through your media player list before stopping on a song titled “It Carries.” Your heart stops for a moment. This song is one of your favorites but it also is a painful reminder. Not just about a past you’d like to forget but a humiliation that your best friend Seoyun would tell you was not your fault. You didn’t realize that you just sat there quietly for a beat too long.

“Y/N?” the lady executive asks.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, shaking it off, “Was stuck between two…Hm, this one is called ‘It Carries.’ I actually wrote it for...an old friend. He’s the one rapping, but I wrote everything.”

Throwing your nerves into the wind, you press play, letting the 808-filled beat fill the conference room. Again the room goes silent, that that makes you nervous. Beginning vocals finish and the rap begins, you notice the person in the back of the room lean forward, elbows on their knees. It doesn’t help that you can’t see their face. They’re probably another one of the producers.

The party that wrenches your heart the most comes up and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You take a deep breath but it’s shakier than you were planning on it to be.

‘But you say “it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine Words aren’t always necessary” My heart squeezes in love and in thanks And I don’t feel as broken as before’

As it finishes, you let out a breath you didn’t realize that you were holding. There is some applause but you aren’t really paying attention. The tall producer raises his hand to quiet everyone again. “That was really amazing. You wrote those raps?” he asked.

“Yes... I wrote them,” you said, which was all you could manage. Your nerves were still bubbling.

“The flow is amazing. The rapping is good but the lyrics…” he trailed off.

“The rapper had an exceptional songwriter to help him out,” said a deep, slightly scratchy voice. It came from the person in the back, the one whose face you couldn’t see in the dimmed light of the conference room. You looked as closely from where you sat and when he raised his head, you tried not outwardly gasp.

Your complimenter was none other than Min Yoongi, Suga of BTS, one of the most well-known and spoken-about young producers in the industry. But...why was he sulking in the back of a preliminary producer meeting? Didn’t he have songs to write, press to do, anything else but sit in on your meeting? Why in the heck was he here? And he listened to some rather personal songs of yours too. Your face had never felt so hot.

“You’re absolutely right,” the female executive said, making no comment as to why the idol was sitting in the back of this meeting.

The tall producer came back around. “You’ve got an interesting point of view and I’d love to see what you can do. I work with BTS but am also overseeing the new boy group who are working towards their debut.”

You perked up a bit, your attention finally at least partly restored after having been trying really hard not to start at the international superstar just sulking in the corner of the room.

“Really?” you asked, a smile forming on your lips, your eyes moving to bulge just slightly out of your head. Was this all really happening?

“Really,” he said, smiling, “You won’t be exclusive to any team but I think you’d be a great use to many of the projects currently in the words at BigHit.” Everyone looked to be in agreement but your eyes couldn’t help but go back to Min Yoongi in the back. His arms still crossed, he didn’t have much of a reaction...despite what he said to you earlier; to be more specific, what he said about you.

The meeting started to die down and everyone was getting out of their chairs and talking. You took a sip out of your water bottle as two of the younger producers--whose names you recognized from the long list of BTS credits--included you into conversation, asking you about your influences. The rest of the time was spent talking to the two of them, as well as the other producers.

They both gave you their numbers as they mentioned they’d also be working on most of the current projects in production and that you’d be spending a lot of time together so getting to know one another would be beneficial. You wholeheartedly agreed and found them easy to talk to, quickly relaxing into the conversation. Getting to know them was like some sort of...weird reality.

You felt as if you might have to pinch yourself any second.

You were talking to one of the younger producers when they beckoned someone over. You looked over your shoulder to see Suga of BTS--Min Yoongi, if you were to be more correct in this situation--holding a soda can between his fingers. You hadn’t seen him talk to anyone until now besides the female executive from earlier.

“Hey, hyung,” one of the guys said to him, “Ready to go back to the studio?”

He turned his gaze from his drink to the producer and you could finally really see his face, even if it was still partly hidden under his hat. The first thing that definitely struck you was his eyes. Dark and intense, not that you didn’t already know that. You’d seen pictures of him, seen his performances at all the music award and variety shows. But cameras and televisions rarely captured the true reality. They were truly stunning.

It was then. It was then that it really hit you that Min Yoongi was standing a mere four feet away from you. He was perhaps one of the biggest inspirations for auditioning for Big Hit in the first place. You never really considered yourself ARMY but you respected the group and their interest in being involved in the creation of their work. Especially the rap line as they also were considered the main contributors. You admired what they and BigHit doing, what they stood for.

And you had a feeling that you were going to get to be part of it.

You tried not to visibly vibrate with excitement right in front of him. Why would you be calm and collected around him? You’d never met any idols or famous actors, singers, etc. in your entire life. It was jarring to realize that he was just hanging out in the back of the conference room while you showed some of your personal work with the producing team. You rarely shared your music with your family, let alone your friends. Seoyun, was the only one who could pry the work out of you...but usually under force or threat.

But she of all people knew what these two songs meant to you. And having a famous idol hear your work before you even knew he was in the room...it scattered your brain just a bit. You still kind of felt like an idiot, though.

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi said in a low and tired-sounding timbre.

Part of you was curious as to what they are working on and part of you kind of wanted to ask if you can tag along. But the realist side of you laughed at the idea. You haven’t been in the building more than two hours and you were already itching to know more, do more, see more. But you keep quiet because you knew it was just your excitement. Nothing like this had ever happened in your life and you’re still not even sure if it’s even real. You could wake up at any moment. It’s a dream, right?, you keep asking yourself.

It’s not. It’s the start of the rest of your life.

“Cool,” the other producer said, shoving their hands into their pockets. The water bottled crinkled a little in your hands. “It was really great meeting you, Y/N. Work calls but we’ll see you soon, yeah? I think the plan is to get into get things set up in the next week,” he continued.

“Sounds great,” you replied genuinely. The two producers turned towards Yoongi and the three of them started to leave but before they could make head way out of the conference room, the man in question turned back towards you with a hand raised in a non-moving wave.

“See you around,” he said.

“You too,” you managed to respond, returning the small wave but dropping that hand to wrap around your other wrist in front of you. You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face. Your first two words to Min Yoongi. They could have been worse...or more embarrassing.

Seriously, you needed someone to slap you back to reality.

He turned around and left with the two producers. One was Shin Donghyuk--also known as Surpeme Boi--and the other was Kim Yunseo, a newer addition to the BigHit team, but you had been familiar with some of his independent work before he joined. They were going to be heavily involved in the work for the upcoming projects, both BTS’ comeback and the new boy group debut.

Tossing your finished water bottle in the appropriate bin, the female executive who rooted for you, Lee Hayoon, approached you. She had a stern yet friendly smile as she came towards you, with the producer known as ADORA in tow.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself. I see you you already met Donghyuk-ssi and Yunseo-ssi. That’s great because you’ll be working with them a lot,” she said, “We considered hiring a new slew of producers for the new group but Donghyuk insisted on working both albums. Yunseo is, after you, the newest producer. Glad to have you on the team, Y/N.”

The woman you knew to be known as ADORA smiled. “My name is Moon Eun-hye,” she said, making a small bow, “It’s so nice to have another woman on the team finally. Your work is stunning for how young you are.” You beam just a bit as you really respect her work as ADORA.

“Thank you so much. I really admired your work on the last album,” you said returning the bow, trying not to gush. Eun-hye seemed so low-key and dresses casually, much like how you usually dress. What you were currently wearing was you dressing up to impress. This girl made sweats and a ripped t-shirt look cool.

“Aw, thanks,” she said, “Seriously...I can’t wait to work with you. Us girls definitely have to stick together.” She gave you her number and the three of you talked about what was next. Hayoon said that you’d be looped in with the studio/recording coordinator to get updated on the current schedule. They’d be doing a few team dinners for the various projects that were coming up, coinciding with whatever you got placed on. Whether it was primarily the BTS comeback or the boy group debut. Hayoon assured that you’d have time to learn about the group once and if you started working with them, if that was the decision that would go first.

The get together finally died down and you said your goodbyes, only a few hours later getting various calendar invites. You’d be officially signing your contract the next time you came to BigHit. You were having your brother-in-law--a lawyer--look it over before you signed.

Those technicalities and small things were the last things on your mind. You were making your dreams come true and you were doing it on your own.

You also couldn’t wait to tell the people who loved and supported you the most.

An important event was coming up so the dance, studio, and overall rehearsal schedule was in full swing. Not only did the guys have to share a company with a new group, the company was flocking with new people and faces due to obvious and needed expansion. While they all thought that they knew everyone, there was always someone new popping out from the woodwork.

“Hey, hyung,” Jimin shouted over towards Namjoon while sitting on the floor stretching, “Did you hear about the new producer they just hired?” Both Jimin and Jungkook were fanned out on the floor, getting ready for a dance practice. Hoseok was already in front of the mirror, lightly going through the steps as usual.

“I did,” Namjoon said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t know anything other than that the producer is a girl.”

Jimin and Jungkook both looked at one another. Eun-hye-noona was the only other female producer so this was an interesting development. You’d be the second female staff producer so of course you were of interest. The way you got hired, too, was definitely something that triggered a lot of attention as well.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asked as he walked over and sat down to join the rest of the youngers.

“The new producer they just hired is a girl,” Jungkook said excitedly. The four of them were talking amongst themselves while Hoseok was still working in front of the mirror, Jin was sitting on a rolling chair playing a game on his phone and Yoongi was getting some water. Shaken from his thoughts, he heard Jimin over his shoulder.

“Yoongi-hyung, do you know anything about the new girl producer?” Jimin asked, Jungkook and Taehyung hanging onto the question.

“She’s good,” he said casually, turning back to his water bottle. Exclamations erupted.

“You heard her work????” Taehyung asked, breaking the commotion.

Yoongi put the bottle down, turned around, and walked over to the four guys. They were all awash with excitement and moved in towards him as well.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked. Jimin followed, leaning his hands and arms over Jungkook’s shoulder in expectation.

“I was at the studio and Hayoon-noona asked me to sit in on a meeting,” Yoongi said, crossing his arms, looking up at towards the brim of the baseball cap on his head.

“So, she’s actually good?” Namjoon asked, looking Yoongi over in question, “I’m surprised they even met with her a second time after all that confusion.”

Yoongi whipped out his phone, deciding to pull up the song he asked Hayoon to send over to him. “She brought a looper in with her for her audition. You can’t really ignore that. It’s creative”

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s actually really cool,” he said, watching Yoongi pull up the song. Namjoon called out for Jin and Hobi to come over.

“I asked Hayoon-noona to send me the song she played for us in the meeting,” Yoongi added, moving to press play.

“What is this-” Jin said before Jimin cut him off with a ‘Shhhh’

A hip hop tone with a bit of electronic and tropical flowed through the horrible iPhone speakers, filling the studio. Hobi and Jungkook immediately started moving their head and shoulders while the others listened intently.

It was the “It Carries” song that you had played the group in your meeting.

The vocals and rap line move seamlessly on top of the melody and production. Namjoon’s chin sits in his hands as he moves it along, deep in though. Yoongi doesn’t move or sway but he’s super intent on listening to the song, something he done a number of times since asking Hayoon-noona to send it to him.

“Who’s rapping?” Jimin asks. By this time, he’s moving his fingers to the beat.

“Don’t know,” Yoongi said, “He’s okay, I guess, but what’s more interesting is that she wrote all the rap and lyrics in addition to producing the song.” Namjoon and Hoseok were intrigued. “She’s only a year older than Kookie,” he said as the song came to its end. Everyone was surprised by that. Once again, they all erupted into conversation.

“Take notes, Kookie,” he said, pocketing his phone and looking pointedly at the maknae, “If you want to continue producing music…”

“Don’t come for me, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook said defiantly. The others laughed at the exchange. “Regardless....you seem to know a lot about her,” Jungkook teases. The others join in and it takes Yoongi what’s left of his energy to not say something back.

After practice ended, he ended up spending the majority of the night at the studio after Hoseok and Yunseo left. The three of them were working on a song but Yoongi wanted to to stay behind after they left.

He had been working on some tweaks for a collaboration with a huge western artist but all of a sudden, a thought came to him. A rush of inspiration had led him to his piano and he laid down a melody line. It was one of the first things he was truly proud of and something that wasn’t spurred by necessity. It was something just for him in that moment, something that brought a wide smile to his face as he reached for the soggy iced Americano on his desk.

Maybe it would be something he’d save for the next mixtape. Maybe...just maybe he wouldn’t have to wait that long.

Your family was so proud.

They had been apprehensive of you pursuing music because of the question of stability but in the end, they just wanted you to be happy. You went to university to please them, but majored in music production. They felt more secure in that choice. Sound engineers were always in demand, at least. That’s how they thought anyway. You couldn’t blame them and you did want to make them proud. But there were moments when you were sure that you knew yourself. You knew that you could never do a job that you weren’t passionate about.

You’d always been sensitive and pursuing medicine or an office job...you had a feeling ity would essentially destroy you.

You had lovely friends in university, most of whom you are still close to, but well into your second year, you met and started dating another music production major. Even thinking or saying his name was still painful, though. It had been months since you broke up and you’d begun to heal. Your heart was finally mending and your friends and music were your saving graces. You don’t know where you would be without Seoyun’s pushy behavior or your sister’s quote-laden pep talks over skype or the cave that was your music studio set up in your small studio apartment. The tail end of your relationship had caused a lot of rifts in your heart and life. While you didn’t rearrange your whole life, there were a lot of things you changed after your break up.

After appearing on a famous reality rap show and making it to the end...the funny, charming, aspiring rapper you called your boyfriend and best friend dumped you over text message.

You had relied on your family and friends a lot in the past several months. So seeing you happy about something again made them happy. You really hated being a burden to your friends and family. The idea that they worried so much about you did a number on your anxiety. All you wanted was for your parents and friends to be proud of the artist and person you were. Working for one of the most talked-about music companies in the industry was only something you’d dreamed about. Music had been your life since you were little, ever since you had begged for piano and guitar lessons. Practicing piano for hours a day was a hassle to most of your friends but to you, those lessons were the best part of your week. Guitar quickly became a second love, too.

Before this opportunity, you had seriously considered moving back with your parents, the small cafe job you had up until now barely even helping you make rent. But you knew that you’d soon be getting a paycheck from one of the most profitable companies in music. You deleted that email draft to your landlord, stating that you’d be leaving at the end of your lease.

Things were looking up in more ways than one.

In celebration, your best friend in the world, Park Seoyun, had convinced you to go out the Saturday before your first day officially at BigHit.

She was a social butterfly and had a lot of cool and influential friends. Sometimes you weren’t sure whiy she still kept you around but she did. While she was also the fun friend, she was also the mom friend. Always nagging you and making sure you were taking care of yourself, not just while you were both in university. She actually worked at one of the big companies in a coordinator position and she knew where anyone who was anything would be. Dominoing into tonight, she knew someone who could get the two of you through the VIP entrance to one of the hottest clubs in Seoul.

Clubs were never one of your things but once in a while, letting loose didn’t sound like a horrible idea. However, she’d dressed you up. You weren’t a super fashionable person. You liked a more athletic look in contrast to Seoyun’s sexy, feminine fashion sense. In your signature black, she squeezed you into a short turtleneck bodycon dress and some of her more stable, platformed boots. Heels had always been your enemy and you threw anything that had a stiletto back her way. She had to concede.

As she promised, getting in was a breeze. You were able to slink right in, of course pissing off all the people in the line that wrapped around the block. You couldn’t help but smile a little as the two of you tripped over your own feet into the club.

Your friend insisted on taking a photo before entering the VIP section, where cameras were not allowed. You did your classic peace sign near your face in front of the neon light display. You assesed yourself in a mirror nearby. You looked cute, you guessed. Cute was the most you could muster. Sexy? Don’t even try, you’d tell yourself. Seoyun had a claim on that territory already. But you were fine with being cute. Sexy wasn’t something you actively tried to achieve. After touching up, you two made your way over to the VIP section. Seoyun made flirty small talk with the bouncer and the two of you were in there in seconds.

Yeah, there were definitely celebrities littering the area. Seoyun even walked right up to some actor that you recognized but couldn’t name….and they knew one another. You weren’t surprised as you took the hand the tall, handsome actor offered when greeting you. “Y/L/N, Y/N?”

“Uh, hi. How did you know my name?” you asked., honestly a little incredulous.

“Honestly Y/N, he went to school with us,” she said. Your eyes widened because you didn’t remember him. “It’s fine, you didn’t go out a lot. You may not know him.”

You rolled your eyes at her and apologized to him but you still smile a little because it was true. You had been too busy with your music and...your boyfriend. Maybe if you took your social life a little more seriously while in university, you’d have been friends with the actor too. Seoyun was your first year roommate and despite the two of you being soul twins, you both really were so different. Jisoo had been kind enough to get the three of you drinks so for a moment, he disappeared.

Seoyun stiffened and it caught you off-guard. What was she looking at? “Don’t look over your right shoulder are your new neighbors,” You scrunch your nose in confusion but quickly look, trying to mask it as a scratch.

“I said don’t look!” your friend screamed through her teeth and you quickly whip your head back in her direction in response to her order.

“Calm down,” you said, “Who’s there?” You were surprised any of them were there. They were notoriously absent from the party scene. At least, that’s what Seoyun said. Then again, so were you. At least you had that in common.

“Them. I think all of them,” she said but not sounding so sure, just as the actor--Lee Jisoo, whose name you just remembered--came back with three drinks. You definitely did see that drama with him in it. You had definitely watched the whole thing, too. He smiled at both of you as you clink your glasses together.

“Who’s here?” Jisoo asks after taking a sip. You suddenly feel awkward but Seoyun is quick to gab.

“BTS,” she said. Jisoo looked over and nodded with a thoughtful pout.

“I rarely see them out. Surprised, staff is loosening the reins,” he said. However, it didn’t look like they were being bothered by anyone. It was probably nice for them, you thought, that the could go out and blow off some steam without being harassed once in while.

“It just so happens that Y/N here is getting signed to BigHit,” she says after taking a large gulp of her drink. You gave her a look. Your contract wasn’t even signed yet and you didn’t want anything risking it but you let it go because on the other hand, your socially connected best friend was proud as hell of you.

“I’ll be working on various projects as a producer,” you say, keeping it that, just in case. You didn’t want anything to harm the signing of your contract. But you were proud. You were very excited. Jisoo congratulated you, said that he knew a few of the boys, and then laughed at something else Seoyun said. Sometimes you were jealous of her since she had such an easy way with people. You were the opposite most of the time. You were really shy until you eased yourself into the situation and got more comfortable. You had never been the type to just go up to people you didn’t know but you adapted quickly once you slotted in and often fed off the energy of others.  

Continuing to talk, the three of you had managed to shift your standing positions so that the group was now at the edge of your peripheral. You didn’t want to go over and disturb them. Besides, you had only ever been introduced to Yoongi and that was only for a millisecond. You couldn’t even see Yoongi at the moment but what if he was there and he saw you and you saw him and he thought it was rude that you didn’t come over? You were used to overthinking things so you were hoping that even the smallest of sips would help ease the anxiety settling into the pit of your stomach like squishy rocks.

Why were you like this? Ugh.

You continued to flit in and out of the conversation with Seoyun and Jisoo and the feeling of them within your peripheral. Something unexpected happened instead. Two of members approached the three of you. Mid-sip you tried not to choke on the large gulp you just took.

“It’s Y/L/N, Y/N, right?” says the shorter of the two who approached. You were almost 100% certain that was Kim Taehyung. A large, wide smile and impeccable style. The taller, you knew, was Kim Namjoon, the leader of the group. You knew that for sure. But wait a minute, how---? How did they knew you were you? You looked around for a moment but still didn’t see Yoongi.

“Yes,” you said, your glass still held tightly between your fingers, “Hi.” You were glad that you managed at least those two words. He smiled at you and there was something about him that eased whatever nerves you had before. It was true. He didn’t look human in real life. You smile and make yourself take a deep breath. You’d likely be working with the group soon on their upcoming album. In a way, they were kind of your co-workers? Being nervous around them wasn’t going to make anything easier.

“It’s nice to actually meet you. We’ve heard a bit about you,” Namjoon chimes in, shaking your hand, followed by Tae. The two of them also introduce themselves to Seoyun and Jisoo, though Taehyung knew Jisoo as an acquaintance through mutual friends. The five of you fell into conversation and it wasn’t long before Jimin came and joined, introducing himself to you and your group.

“We loved your song, by the way,” Jimin said enthusiastically, “That hook…” Your eyes widened a little as you subconsciously pulled your lips in between your teeth, a small smile tearing at the corners. Some of the most celebrated artists in the industry loved your work. Sometimes, this kind of validation could be enough to drag you out of your shy comfort zone.

“Oh, thank you so much,” you said, “Which song?” You were doing all you could to not visibly shake. Park Jimin had the voice of an angel and if you were lucky enough to keep impressing BigHit, he might end up singing your work.

“I think it was “It Carries”?” Jimin said, calling over your shoulder, “Yoongi-hyung, Y/N’s song you played for us...it was “It Carries,” right?” You turned over your shoulder a little too quickly, hitting Jisoo in the face with your hair. You muttered a quick sorry to him. They’d passed around your song. God, your face couldn’t be any warmer, right?

“Yeah,” he said, expressionless, holding three drinks, “that’s the one.” You forced yourself to breathe again. That song had been hard enough to show to the group as it was personal. The fact that the whole group had heard it caused your heart to palpitate. You knew that Hayoon had a copy of it but the idea that someone you didn’t know might have it on their computer or on their phone or in their texts...it was still a little unnerving. A compliment, likely, but still unnerving.

Yoongi moved to hand the three of his group members drinks, which they accepted. “Nice to see you again,” he said to you, shaking his bangs out of his face. There were his eyes again. Soft despite his monotone. He sounded sincere but not overzealous or as if he was saying it to be polite. He was dressed nicely in a simple black blazer, black t-shirt and black jeans. Simple. Unlike what they usually wore for press, concerts, etc.

“You too,” you say in response, feeling yourself ease a little, taking another sip. He seemed perfectly relaxed, as if playing your song for everyone was just the most casual thing he could do...while across from him, your stomach was in knots. However, part of you felt at ease because he took it so casually, as if this whole thing wasn’t changing your life. As if all of this was natural. It was a paradox you couldn’t quite keep away from.

Seoyun who was having a good time, raised her glass. “Just want to make a quick toast to Y/N’s first day on Monday. I have a very hard-working, tireless, and multi-talented best friend,” she said, smiling and leaning into Jisoo just a bit. Your best friend was sweet but a bit of a lightweight, “Cheers to Y/N!!!” Everyone in the circle smiled and joined in.

The rest of the night flew by in a fun frenzy and the three of you ended up joining the group at their booth. You met Hoseok, Jin, and Jungkook shortly after, the three of them working their way through the fancy handle of Grey Goose vodka among their assorted bottle service. Hoseok was definitely the most tipsy and when a song he loved came on, he even pulled Seoyun and yourself in to dance. He was twirling you both around playfully and jokingly, but still managing to dance with more grace than anyone you personally knew.

When Hoseok released the two of you for a break, you found yourself deep in conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi while Seoyun managed to find herself flirting with both Jin and Jisoo. Namjoon and Yoongi both seemed interested in your music taste. They asked you about your musical influences and you found it really nice that they were just as nerdy about music as you were. For a moment, you could have gone to high school with them, as if they might have been in orchestra with you or jazz band.

“Epik High, Missy Elliott, Lady Sovereign, Beyoncé, CL....hands down of all time,” you said and as you took another sip of your drink, it finally made that awful slurping noise. You’d hit ice. Both Yoongi and Namjoon enthusiastically said that Epik High was one of their biggest inspirations to be rappers.

“Do you rap?” Namjoon asked and you couldn’t help be shake your head no. Performing was not in your wheelhouse. God, your audition was nerve wracking enough. Performing in front of hundreds of people? No thank you.

“No, not at all,” you said, “But I like to write them.”

“Like your song,” Yoongi said,, “That was a beautiful rap. You definitely could, if you wanted to.” You softened at the words coming out of his mouth and then some more when Namjoon agreed.

“Yu obviously have amazing musicality. Just like this one here,” Namjoon said, motioning at Yoongi. Yoongi just raised his shoulders the tiniest bit in response. An acknowledgment rather than an agreement.

Namjoon then asked you what you were currently listening to but you were interrupted for a second as Yoongi took the drink from you, leaning down towards the large low table, presumably to top you off.

You quickly snapped back to what Namjoon was saying. “Oh, lately I’ve been listening to WOODZ, Jvcki Wai, and I love Robyn’s newest album,” you say.

“I like Jvcki’s lyrics. Very aggressive flow, too,” Namjoon says enthusiastically and you nod in agreement.

“She doesn’t take prisoners. I think what she is doing is really cool,” you add, “Especially as a woman in hip hop.” You think of her song ‘Anti-’ All your friends really liked music but you were so excited to be working at a company where everyone had the same passion.

“People think she uses a lot of autotune but that’s actually usually just her voice,” you say with a laugh. Both Namjoon and Yoongi smile at your comment, the second handing you a newly made drink.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the tumbler from his hands. A small smile appeared on Yoongi’s lips as he finished making himself another drink. “Lady Sovereign, though?” he asked and you know he’s making fun of you.

“What can I say? My ten year old self was obsessed,” you say, smiling and thinking about the time you dressed up as her for a costume party in elementary school. The few small braids, the side ponytail, and tracksuit were still a look. Taking another gulp of your drink, you were trying to remember which number you were on. You could feel the alcohol in your cheeks at this point. You were tall for a girl and usually you weren’t much of a lightweight. You could handle your liquor but you’d always feel it in your face two drinks in. The feeling was comfortable but the thought of looking drunker than you were was not.

“I was curious, though,” Namjoon said all of a sudden, “Who was the rapper on your track?” You froze for a second for responding just a little too quickly. “An old friend,” you said, perhaps a little colder than you meant. You were trying to convince yourself that your reaction was due to the alcohol, but your face gave away everything.

“Oh, he sounds kind of familiar. That’s the only reason I ask,” Namjoon said and if he caught on to your demeanor change, he didn’t let on. It wouldn’t be surprising if Namjoon had heard of your boyfriend. He did win a huge rap reality show.

As you took another sip, Seoyun came over, dragging Jisoo and Jin with her. Jin was very drunk and leaning onto Seoyun, earning him an annoyed look from Jisoo. “So, I think the plan is for us to ditch and go get yangnyeom tongdak in say...five minutes?” he said, looking at his watch, a fancy digital contraption that flashed 1:00 AM. Wow, you didn’t realize how much time flew by.

Yoongi was the first to reply, as if relieved. “Sounds great to me,” he said, taking the happiest sip of alcohol you thought you’d ever seen. He then drained the whole thing, practically slamming it onto the table, and wiped his mouth with the side of thumb. “Ready!!” He exclaimed, smile on his face. You looked at him in the eye and there was a silent agreement when both of your eyes met.

Food > Clubbing.

Jin, despite how drunk he was, managed to coral all seven boys plus the three of you into the van waiting for you at the back of the club. Everyone toppled in with Seoyun strung out across Jisoo, Jin, and Jungkook in the back. Yoongi shuffled in, helping you up, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin pulling in the rear. The four of them squeezed together and grabbed you to lay out similarly to Seoyun. Taehyung and Hoseok held onto your torso while your head ended up awkwardly pressed against Yoongi’s armpit. You laughed as they hoisted you up, making sure you were comfortable.

The buzz was hanging high in your head and you could hear Seoyun, Hoseok, and Jungkook singing to “thank u, next” as it started on the van speakers. You didn’t sing but every time “next” was said, you punched the air above you with your palms. Minutes and several songs later, the van stopped and both Seoyun and you were hoisted out of the car. Yoongi and Hoseok gave you a hand out, and then lead you through the dark back entrance of the chicken place. All of you stumbled into a large room in the back, not completely closed off from the main restaurant but private enough where no one would know they were back there unless they went looking.

Sliding along the modern wooden bench in your dress proved difficult, Seoyun and Jisoo fumbling in next to you while Yoongi slid his legs through the opening between the table and bench, managing it without making too much of a ruckus. Jin and Yoongi ended up across from one another, both excitedly together. They ordered what seems like a feast for 25 people--not the ten actually there--and as they went through a list that included sweet and spicy chicken, honey garlic chicken, bulgogi flavored chicken, french fries, pickled raddish, and tteokbokki, you finally hear your stomach growling. It didn’t evade Yoongi and Jin’s ears. “Wow that was loud,” you say, trying to laugh it off, a little too drunk to be completely embarrassed. Jin immediately said to their waitress to make it fast as “the lady is hungry.”

Beer and soju arrive and despite the fact you don’t think you can fit any more alcohol in your body. Jin and Jimin challenge everyone to shots of soju and you managed to find more space in your stomach. Not the heaviest of drinkers, you quickly get more comfortable in your surroundings and you finally get the up the courage to pry. You turn to Yoongi and straight up ask him, “What were you working on with Donghyuk-sunbae and Yunseo-sunbae?” Yoongi finished his shot of soju, putting the glass back down on the table with a loud click, then crossed his arms on the ledge of the table.

“Group number for the new album,” he answered, his voice low and a bit slurred, “Trying to decide if we should do something nostalgic or something different. The concept is a lot...dirtier this time? I guess that’s the best way to describe it?” You mimic his arm position without realizing it, leaning onto the edge of the table in front of you. “Why not both?”

Your question makes him laugh. “How would we do that?” he asked, split between confused and curious. You could feel the gears in your brain start to turn. Figuring out the feel of songs you wanted to work on was one of the best parts in your opinion; thinking about what you wanted to convey was a rush. You had an idea of what you were trying to say but fuck it if he laughed it.

“Just think about it, okay,” you say, weirdly proud of yourself, “Do You Think It Makes Sense? meets ‘Tear.’ Maybe really bring out that R&B feel. Hmmmm...there is this really good sample from ‘Gossip Fools’ by Missy Elliott featuring Ludacris, actually.”

“You really dug into the library on that first song,” he said with a smirk. You can’t help but smile. It was true and you had done some refreshing on the BTS library in the last few weeks. Of course, you’d always been familiar with them but the song was a few years old. He looked at you for a moment, contemplating something. It wasn’t a lie that he made you nervous, but the alcohol was helping….for the both of you apparently. “Play the sample,” he said, looking pointedly at your phone.

“What?” you ask, as in...really, dude? But you’re reaching for you phone. You pull up your library and he takes his phone from you and clips the song, which is now playing on full volume. A few of the guys stop talking and look over. Immediately Hoseok starts moving to it and shouts, “MIIIIIIISSSY!!!”

“But slowed down a bit, I think?” you added, and you look at Yoongi’s face and a few gears of his appear to be turning. He turns down the speed to 0.75 instead of normal. Soon enough, they all seem interested in what’s going on. “Definitely more dirty if you slow it down,” you say, without really thinking what you’re saying and a little louder than you mean to.

The guys burst into laughter and it takes everything in you to not just sink into a puddle beneath the table. You’re could feel all  the blood rush to your face. “Just an idea,” you say smally, putting your arms back in your lap. Hoseok starts rapping along to it and after a moment, you can’t help but lightly join. You loved Missy.

Everyone eventually went back to their conversations while Yoongi and you ended up pouring over your music library, smirking at a few embarrassing entries. He even convinced you to play some some random things you’d been working on, including a few piano ramblings. You also mentioned that you also had played guitar since childhood. Piano was your favorite though, you admitted, and he smiled warmly at that and agreed. It was a little off-putting, his smile. It didn’t fit his preapproved aura but it looked so nice among his features. After ribbing you for having “The Shape of My Heart” by the Backstreet Boys on your Spotify’s “Most Recent,” you two eventually looked up to see that food had arrived and everyone was eating. The both of you were quick to pile your plates with chicken and tteokbokki.

You’d never met anyone as passionate about music as you and even though you were sure it was the liquid courage talking, you felt comfortable talking to the rapper. Despite what public decreed his personality to be, it didn’t feel like that when the two of you gushed over the use of vintage 808s. With a mouth full of sweet and spicy chicken, no less. Maybe it was because you could relate and not just on a musical level. You weren’t as outgoing as Seoyun, who was currently threatening to throw a rice cake at Jin, her personality counterpart. You felt at home in your own head and maybe that made you shy in regards to others’ standards. But...sometimes it was moments like these that you felt free enough to talk to someone you admired without getting nervous, without letting your nerves completely immobilize your ability to communicate.

Fuck, you ate too quickly. Part of you just wanted to lay down on your own plate, but there you were...taking another bite of rice cake, trying as you might to fit two whole ones in your mouth. After a moment, Yoongi’s low voice and shoulder jolted you out of your food and beer trance. “Yeah?” you said, mouth full of rice cake.

“Would you want to work on something?” he asked, straight-faced.

A chunk of rice cake might just have fallen out of your mouth at his question. You tried not to look too mortified when he couldn’t contain his laughter. God, you were hopeless. “Um, work on something?” you asked, sure that you couldn’t have heard right.

“With me, yeah. No thoughts on what but...even for fun? Just in general?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free, ringed hand, both of which were turning red due to alcohol. Not that you were clued in enough to notice. Your eyes weren’t even focusing anywhere because you might still have been in shock. But you felt the heat in your face and a fluttering in your heart. There was part of you that couldn’t help but stare. This was was more conversation than you would have expected between the two of you.

“Y-Yeah,” you say, scrambling with a napkin to pick up the rice cake that had hit the table in a bright red splat. You wrapped it up and set it to the side. Did you really hear correctly? Did you just say yes, too? Everything was a little buzzy and raw in your head right at that moment. This whole experience...getting hired by BigHit had sent everything into hyperdrive.

Were your dreams really coming true?

“I would love that,” you couldn’t help by say. You went for another rice cake, careful to keep it from dropping from your chopsticks. Stuffing it into your mouth without caring what you looked like, you sighed. Late night drunk eating was the best. “Almost as much as this rice cake,” you add, grabbing another with and sliding the bowl closer to Yoongi, so he didn’t have to reach over.

“I’ll be honest. I’m honored,” he said, smiling, “This place has the best tteokbokki.” He dug in for some as well and the two continued to chat mostly about what you two were listening to at the moment, even joining in with the group on other topics that were a-buzz at the moment. Jungkook even hopped up to take a group photo of everyone and then a long selfie shot of the group. You leaned over the table to get past Seoyun, Yoongi leaning even farther but his face still ended up getting partially cut off by your head.

It was getting really late and while Yoongi told you the guys didn’t have a schedule tomorrow, they all had things that they probably should get done. They insisted on dropping Seoyun, Jisoo, and yourself off at your place before getting on their way. From there, you left Seoyun and Jisoo at the door to go their separate ways as you made your way up to your studio apartment. Your heart was beating really quickly but you weren’t sure if it was from the several flights of stairs you ascended or the adrenaline that was currently keeping you awake.

Everything felt fumbly as you made your way around your apartment to get ready for bed. You could have just passed out cold in your going-out clothes, crossbody still strapped to your body. However, you managed to peel everything off and throw it on the floor before you threw on the PJ’s you laid out on your bed in preparation. Quickly, you could feel a headache trying to form so you grabbed a large bottle of water from your fridge and placed it on your nightstand. You knew that if you chugged a bunch you’d be fine in the morning.  After getting part of your nighttime routine in, you practically swan dived under the covers, and cocooned yourself in the large down comforter.

Maybe all of tonight was a dream and you had just been in your bed for the last several hours. You didn’t fall asleep for at least an hour because you couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling, trying to put all your thoughts together. You were getting to do what you loved for a living. A trailblazing company took a chance on you after you failed to read instructions on a songwriting submission. But...you would wake up the next day to the text Yoongi sent to you so that you would have his number.

Yeah, that wasn’t a dream at all.

YOU [11:21 AM]: how’s the hangover? SEOYUN [11:30 AM] not great ugh YOU [11:31 AM]: sorry, babe !! drink some ginger ale and have an ibuprofen and go back to sleep. SEOYUN [11:33 AM]: yes, mom. YOU [11:34 AM]: jisoo and you were getting pretty close last night? is it a thing or is it going to be a thing, etc? :eyes emoji: SEOYUN [11:34 AM]: not a thing yeT! i do really like him. doesn’t hurt that he’s fine as hell! YOU [11:34 AM] what about seokjin? i saw jisoo giving him a dirty look…. SEOYUN [11:35 AM]: let’s just blame my drunk self for being too friendly, ok? YOU [11:36 AM]: ah, i cannot imagine a life where boys fight over me. what’s it like in seoyun world? SEOYUN [11:37]: very funny, y/n. not fighting over me, seokjin’s just very friendly and he was very intoxicated. as i just said, so was i! YOU [11:38 AM]: both would be very lucky to have your attention. <3 SEOYUN [11:40 AM] :sobbing emoji: i have the sweetest bff. don’t make me cry, i’m already nauseous. YOU [11:41 AM]: :angel emoji:   SEOYUN [11:43 AM] but the real question is...what did you and yoongi talk about so much, huddled at the end of the table? hmmm? YOU [11:43 AM]: ah, music! just nerdy producer stuff, really…. SEOYUN [11:44 AM]: hmmmmm, interesting…. YOU [11:45 AM]: why is that interesting? SEOYUN [11:45 AM]: no reason, you two just looked cozy. YOU [11:47 AM]: COME ON!! don’t stir the pot seoyunnn SEOYUN [11:47 AM]: if there is an typhoon brewing, no need for me to stir >:) YOU [11:48 AM]: i hate you. this is my first big girl job. Even if there was anything--WHICH THERE ISN’T--risking the opportunity would be the last thing I would do. SEOYUN [11:49 AM]: lying isn’t a good look for you. YOU [11:50 AM]: seriously, though, seoyun! we just nerded out. we were discussing a song he’s currently working on and i played him that missy elliott sample. that song she did with ludacris. SEOYUN [11:51 AM]: let’s just pretend i know what you are talking about. YOU [11:52 AM]: it was fun but we were both really drunk. he asked me if i wanted to work on something with him but i’m just chalking it up to ‘commitments made drunk,’ a common theme among drunk people. SEOYUN [11:55 AM] well, good luck and hopefully he remembers. regardless, i have a very talented best friend and he’d be lucky to work on something with you. :) YOU [11:56 AM]: :blush emoji: sleep tight and let me know if you need me to bring you soup. SEOYUN [11:56 AM]: aweeee. ;;;;;; love you xx

[tanadrin]

Reordberend

(Part 8 of ?; start; previous; next)

It was two or three days before Katherine felt strong enough to stand. A few people seemed to come and go from the hall as she drifted in and out of sleep, and she would occasionally open her eyes to find others sitting around the fire at the far end of the room. Every time it seemed to be a different set of faces. The faces seemed mostly uninterested in her, though; they did not approach or try to speak to her. There were no windows in the high stone walls, and she had no idea whether it was early or late each time she woke. Whoever had prepared her bed had taken her coat, gloves, and boots, and bandaged her hands and feet. Both still hurt, probably from frostbite. In theory her cybernetics could fix that pretty easily, but there was still no response when she pressed the standby switch. At some point, she woke to find the hall empty. There was one of those densely embroidered overcoats the others wore, draped over the end of the bed, but no boots. Presumably, she wasn’t meant to go wandering about outside.

So she decided to have a look around. She shuffled slowly around the hall. It was twenty meters long, maybe, its metal roof supported occasionally by stone pillars made out of the same rough blocks as the walls. There were side rooms at odd intervals along both walls, their doorways protected from drafts by heavy draped cloth. It was the same material as the coats and the tapestries, some kind of soft, dense synthetic fiber. Some of the rooms looked like they were for sleeping, with beds slightly less improvisational than the one Katherine had slept in. One was a pantry, stocked with dried meats. The last one, to her surprise, contained books. Hundreds of them. They looked immense, and the shelves that lined all four walls were full.

Katherine had seen only a few print books in her life, outside the archives of Trinity College. They had all been small, slim volumes with paper covers, the kind of thing you could slip into a large pocket. These books were enormous. There was a stand in the middle of the room, next to a heavy table, about right to read at if you stood. So presumably they weren’t just for show. She selected a few volumes at random, then carefully slid them off their shelves. She piled them on the table, then opened one on the stand.

She didn’t know the language of the Dry Valleys People, and their script made matters even more difficult. It was a Latin script of some kind, she supposed. The letters were approximately familiar. She could pick out the difference between Russian and Arabic and Chinese and the like on the signs in Port Alexander, and these didn’t look anything like that. But the forms were strange, with curls here and long stems there that made it hard to work out what was supposed to be what. There were two different kinds of r, for one. And accent marks she didn’t understand. But what was stranger than that was the books themselves. They weren’t printed books at all. They were all clearly handwritten, every letter and every word just a little bit different, painstakingly copied out on pages made of animal skin, bound in wooden covers. Mostly the text was dense, without any kind of obvious punctuation, and few line breaks, but occasionally she would turn a page and find spread out across a whole page, or sometimes two facing pages, ornate illustrations of people and animals and abstract forms, stained with dark mineral colors. They were like the tapestries in the hall: here and there was an obvious figure, or something that suggested the head or haunch of a beast, but they were surrounded by sinuous shapes, flourishes that looked like detached pieces of architecture, united together with a strange sense of perspective and a compositional logic she couldn’t follow.

She could make neither heads nor tails of the first two books. One was filled with illustrations of plants and animals and shapes that might have been landforms, or icebergs. The last twenty pages, maybe, were nothing but diagrams of the stars. She noted with interest that the Milky Way and the two Magellanic Clouds were all annotated with the same word. Clearly the Dry Valleys People weren’t entirely ignorant of astronomy. And where the first book looked to have been written all by the same hand, the second seemed to have been compiled by dozens of authors; the shapes of the letters seemed to change every few pages.

The third book surprised her. Its cover was more ornate than the others. It wasn’t just plain wood that had been painted; it was a frame in which carefully carved pieces of ivory had been set, depicting four great winged creatures. What looked like a lion, maybe, and some sort of bird, and a person, and some kind of cow, maybe. She wasn’t sure anybody around here had ever seen a cow or a lion in their lives, but it was a good attempt. She opened the book, and a thrill of surprise ran through her. The text was in two closely-written columns, divided by large initial capitals; but each section was further broken up with little numerals just above the line. It looked for all the world like a Bible.

Part of one, anyway. And in no language she recognized. Katherine hadn’t read much Scripture as a kid, and none at all as an adult. Her mother liked to read her stories out of the Bible before bed sometimes, but they were paraphrases as often as not, and what Katherine could remember of the Bible was mostly a lot of conjunctions, and really awkward syntax. But there were four verses she did know by heart. The book she had in front of her was in four parts; just the gospels, if she had to guess. She went to the beginning of the first one, then counted down six chapters, and from the beginning, nine verses. She began to sound them out to herself as best she could. 

“Fader ure, du? Du de eyart on heyofon… heyofonu, si din nama gehalgod…” She was sure she was getting some of the sounds wrong. There was this d with a stroke through the top, and a little line over the u at the end of heofonu. But even if she was butchering it, she knew what she was saying. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. And the words in front of her weren’t so different from that.

“To becume din rikke…”

“Rice,” someone said behind her. Two syllables, sharp and clear. Reach a. Katherine turned around. It was the woman who had shown her the map. She was leaning against the door, staring at Katherine with sharp, dark eyes that made her feel intensely self-conscious. Her face was framed by the hood of her cloak, on which scraps of frost still clung. She looked… puzzled? Amused?

She pointed at the book. “Rice,” she said again. “To becume ðin rice.“ Toe bekoom a theen reach a.

She straightened up and walked over to Katherine. She pointed at the beginning of the prayer.

“Canst ðu hit?” she asked.

“I’m--I’m sorry? I don’t understand,” Katherine said.

The woman took Katherine’s hand, and put her finger under the first word. Then she pointed at Katherine. “Sprec hit. Fram onginnung.”

Katherine looked down at the text, and tried sounding out the words again.

“Fader ure… du de--” 

“Ne.” The woman put a hand over Katherine’s lips, then pointed at her again. “Ne ræd. Ðu. Ðine geðeode.”

“My what? You want me to say it in my language?”

If the woman understood, she didn’t show it. She just stared at Katherine.

“Our father? Who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.” She started nodding as Katherine recited the words. When Katherine finished, she walked out of the room. Katherine stood there for a minute, feeling rather silly, wondering if she’d done something wrong.

When the woman returned, she held up her hand. She was holding Katherine’s cross necklace. She’d been wearing when she went overboard. She thought she’d lost it in the sea.

“Ðu eart Cristne?” the woman asked.

“Christian? Are you asking if I’m a Christian?”

The woman nodded. Katherine shook her head. “No. Not Christian.”

“Ne? Soðlice?” She held out the necklace and dropped it into Katherine’s hand.

“Ðu fricgest, ond ðu birst seo rod. Ac ðu eart ne Cristne?” She seemed to shrug.

She beckoned for Katherine to follow her, and they went back out into the main hall. There was a pair of heavy leather boots beside Katherine’s bed. The woman pointed to them and the coat, and Katherine put them on. She pointed to the fur-lined hood on the back, reminding Katherine to pull it up. Then she led her to the end of the hall, on the opposite side of the fire pit; there was a large doorway draped with layers of cloth and skins, which they pushed through. The woman fumbled with the heavy latch of a door, and they stepped out into dim half-light.

Katherine couldn’t be sure if it was very late at night, or very early in the morning. The sun was low against the ragged ridges that rose on either side of a long, low valley. Dark gray-brown slopes curved gently downward, to a floor littered with stones and debris. A sharp, bitter wind seemed to blow continuously, which Katherine’s coat only partly protected her against.

The hall was a large, long stone building that stood on one side of a little village square. Smaller houses stood around the square on the other sides, their doors facing toward the middle, all made of stone and roofed with metal, all windowless against the freezing wind. Katherine could see smaller outbuildings beyond, and paths leading down the valley, and up into the hills on either side. There couldn’t be more than a few dozen people in a settlement this size; she wondered how many villages like this there were in the Dry Valleys. She had imagined something rather cruder, to be entirely honest; the reports she had read had talked about makeshift shelters, barely adequate against the extremes of Antarctic weather.

Her companion led her across the square, to one of the small houses directly facing the hall. She opened the door, and they pushed their way through another heavy curtain, and Katherine found herself suddenly standing the middle of a small crowd of people.

There was a firepit against one wall of the house, with some small benches beside it, on which a few elderly-looking men and women sat. Their hair was gray to white, and the men all had thick, long beards. There were others sitting, on chairs, or on the floor, which was hard-packed sand and grit, covered with rugs, and maybe a half-dozen more leaning against the walls. The house had only one room, with a high ceiling, and as Katherine glanced up, she could even see, peering down from a wooden loft on one wall, more small faces. It appeared she was an object of some curiosity among the Dry Valleys People.

She felt a hand at her back. Her companion was pushing her forward, to the middle of the room. Every eye in the house suddenly seemed to be on her at once, and she looked around from face to face nervously. Some were old, some were young. All had an intensity of expression she had never seen before. It was like she’d shown up to a party conspicuously underdressed, times a million. Or she was surrounded by everyone she’d ever offended in her entire life. Come to think of it, she probably had offended them, just by being here. There was a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

One of the old women sitting near the fire looked at Katherine and said something.

“Come again?” Katherine said lamely.

“Nama. Ðin nama,” her companion said in her ear.

“Nama?” What? “Oh, my name.” She pointed to herself. “Katherine Alice Green,” she said slowly.

There was a little muttering, and the people by the fire seemed to be conversing among themselves. Finally, the old woman who had asked her name stood and took a couple steps toward Katherine. She had something in her hand, and Katherine realized it was Christopher’s letter of introduction. She said something else, rapid-fire, and looked at Katherine expecting an answer.

“I really don’t understand,” Katherine said. “I don’t speak your language. No module.” She pointed to her head. “No modules at all. My cybernetics are dead.”

This didn’t seem to help. The woman seemed to be getting annoyed with Katherine. She looked at her companion, and said something in an acid tone of voice, to which Katherine’s companion responded with a sharp, almost sarcastic-sounding retort. There was general muttering.

Things only seemed to get worse from there. Katherine’s companion and the old woman argued for a bit; then the people by the fire argued, loudly, among themselves. After a little while, some people from the sides of the room chimed in, and just when it seemed tempers were running a little too high, one of the men by the fire, who hadn’t spoken yet, stood slowly, said a single loud word, and everyone fell silent. He pointed at Katherine, and Katherine’s companion, and said something slowly, like he was intoning some ritual, then sat back down. This seemed to end the discussion. People began filing out of the house, the faces in the loft withdrew, and someone put a pot of something on the fire to cook. Katherine’s companion tugged on her sleeve, and led her out.

They went back to the hall. Katherine’s bed in the main room had been cleared away; instead, her companion led her to one of the side rooms, and pointed to a bed.

“Thanks,” Katherine said. She was suddenly very, very tired again; even mild exertion seemed to be draining for her. “What was that all about?”

Her companion left the room, then came back a few moments later carrying the book of Gospels. She handed it to Katherine.

“Ræd, ond leorn. Ðu sceal ure geðeode leornan, ond arolice.”

Katherine sank down onto the bed. It was exhausting, not understanding anything anyone said to you. To try to patch together meaning from the one word in ten that sounded vaguely familiar. Stupid as it was, she wanted to grab the woman and yell at her to just say something she could understand.

“I don’t understand,” she said angrily. “I don’t fucking understand.”

The woman seemed to understand her frustration, anyway. She squatted down next to the bed, and put her hand on Katherine’s knee. She closed her eyes, and seem to think very hard for a moment.

“Learn. Our tongue. Learn. From book. Swiftly.”

“Why?” asked Katherine. “What happens if I don’t?”

“Out.” The woman gestured, in the vague direction of the hills. “You, out.”

Katherine felt her stomach sinking. “If I go out there alone, I will die. Die? Like, to death. You know that, right?”

The woman nodded.

“And if I learn your tongue, I can stay?” Katherine asked.

The woman shrugged.

“They deem. Learn not, go out. You learn, they choose fate. Go or stay. I know not.”

So that was that. She would have to learn their language, and maybe, just maybe, they would let her stay if she did. Otherwise, they would send her out of the valleys, into the Antarctic wastes, where she would die. Alone.

Just fucking great job, Katherine, she thought to herself.