#but i bought my current laptop like 3 years ago

[foxstens]

past me was a fucking genius and i didnt even know it

[ros3ybabeslanguages]

Language Resources 🎀

*that I currently use for studying Spanish. When I pick up studying Japanese again, I will make a list for that as well <3 I currently use a handful of resources for learning Spanish, and they've all proven very useful so far!

🩷 My Current Resources for Spanish

Busuu - hands down my favorite language learning app. So much better than Duolingo, in my opinion (especially for languages with a different alphabet/writing system). I bought the premium for a year, which will expire in Septmeber, but I'm debating renewing again because I love it so much.

LingQ - I like using this for reading in Spanish. It gives me different types of things to read about, and while I don't have premium, I do put all the words I don't know into flashcards on AnkiApp on my laptop and translate anything I don't know using SpanishDict.

SpanishDict - favorite translation/dictionary app. I know it has lessons you can use, tho I haven't tried it yet, but I really do love this app. It's super helpful when I'm making flashcards or writing random vocabulary notes.

Goodnotes - This is a general note-taking app, but I love it because it allows you to import and write on PDFs, and that's just perfect for me! I've downloaded free PDF short stories/children's stories in Spanish and made notes of words I don't know, and taken notes in the app too. Definitely my favorite notes app, ever.

Italki - I know this is a website, too, but I use the app. It lets you work with professional teachers/community tutors in your target language. You can have structured lessons or just use it for conversation practice. I did a trial lesson not too long ago and have an upcoming lesson booked out in about 5 days. You pay per lesson, so there is no subscription, and there are so many languages and teachers/tutors to choose from. I did a lot of research before choosing a teacher, and I'm very happy with my decision so far. Definitely useful if there's not native speakers near you or you're like me and not confident talking to people you know in your target language/their native language.

Quizlet/AnkiApp - I use AnkiApp more then quizlet, and the Anki I'm referring to is NOT the same way everyone else uses, but it's the flashcard app of preference at the moment. I tried the AnkiDroid app and hated it. But yeah, AnkiApp is useful for flashcards and I really like it. I have it on my Chromebook and my Ipad.

Netflix - I love watching shows in Spanish on Netflix so much. I am currently watching La Reina del Sur on it (used to watch that sporadically in the past at a friend's house) and plan on watching some other shows, including Elite.

Spotify - I enjoy listening to Spanish music and podcasts right now. The music is more of an entertaining/enjoyable fork of audio input, and the podcasts help me get a feel for speaking and pronunciation and I choose podcasts that speak on topics of interest tk help with vocabulary in those areas I'd like to be able to speak about.

Textbooks - I have 2 PDF textbooks, Gramatica de Uso del Español: A1-B2 and Gramatica de Uso del Español: B1-B2. I've heard these are great for learning Spanish (and they're both only written in Spanish, like there's no English in them) and plan on using them once I figure out how to take good and useful textbook notes! I definitely need to improve on my grammar.

Those are all my current Spanish resources! I'd definitely say my current level is like a high A1 right now, nearing A2, but I have just a little bit of work to do before I get there. These resources are definitely gonna help, tho!

[balkanradfem]

I have a story to tell! It's about the laptop's broken power button.

I realized I wouldn't be able to turn my laptop back on if I ever shut it off, so I decided to keep it in 'Sleep mode', from which it can wake up by the spacebar key. I got an advice from a cool woman on tumblr to try and download a program that would allow me to power it up by opening the lid – however I didn't have internet at home, and so I had to wait for tomorrow, to go outside and get some public wifi.

I wake up at 6am, go to the park with my laptop in sleep mode, and discover that my laptop, has decided to power off completely, and is not interested in turning back on. I try to open and close the lid a few times, because that's how I brought it back to life last 2 times, but nothing. The plastic frame of the laptop is so badly broken it's being held together only by ductape and some internal parts have completely crumbled, including the power button.

At this point I had to go to work, so I spent my morning at work, putting a plan together in my head. When I came back home, I opened the closet, and got my old laptop out, the one that stopped working 3 years ago. I liked my old laptop so much, that after it died, I bought a used one that was the exact same mark and build, so that if my new laptop had a broken part, I could take it out of the old one. And now, I would figure out how to replace the power button.

I had not ever dissembled my laptop to this depth, to get to the power button you have to dissemble most of it, so I thought it would be a good practice to do it on the old laptop first. I tried to also watch a video on my phone on how to do that, but my phone just looked at me and went 'do you know how old I am? I am older than youtube. Respect me and get this nonsense out of my screen' and then it died. So I was on my own for this. I had experience replacing the hard drive, and the power jack, but I usually did the power jack in a sneaky way, only dissembling it partially and plugging it in at an angle. I didn't know if I could do the power button in a sneaky way.

Dissembling an old laptop was fun, but I did have to remove and unplug almost every single hardware in there, and I managed to remove the power button without removing the motherboard, so at least I had that going on for me. Dissembling my current laptop was an anxiety-ridden nightmare, I kept reminding myself that laptops are machinery, and they're made to be dissembled by males, so the parts can't be so fragile that they would stop working if I just unplug them and set them aside, and I would remember to plug everything back where it was. But even so, my brain was going 'The save of Stardew Valley is in here! If you mess it up its gone!'

I decided I wanted more shortcuts, and the frame of my laptop is already so broken, I was able to twist it and pull it apart without a complete disassembly, and I jammed the new power button and the little card that goes with it, in there, and screwed it in at an angle, using a knife tip instead of a screwdriver. You should have seen it; I had another knife handle stuck inside the laptop to keep it opened enough, a lamp on my shoulder, lightbulb aimed inside the laptop so I could see what I was doing, my hands at odd angles trying to locate the place where I could plug the card into the motherboard, it was brilliant. I was like an old master at work. And I plugged the damn thing in!

I assembled the laptop back nervously, again telling myself that putting a single screw into the wrong place will likely not destroy the laptop, and that it only matters it's all plugged in correctly. I opened the laptop, pressed the power button, and nothing. It didn't work.

Well what now? That was my only plan. I turned it over, started dissembling it, and I noticed right away that even with my trickery, the thing unplugged from the motherboard because I did not, in my mischief, pin it inside correctly. So I did the whole thing again, lamp on the shoulder and everything, and even before I managed to assemble the laptop back, the power button triggered from some internal debris and the laptop started powering on.

It's working now! I did it correctly. Now, while I was assembling it back and putting ductape all over it, it turned off 4 more times just because the frame is so broken it keeps triggering the power button accidentally, so I'm not having high hopes of this laptop surviving a long time, it's very old at this point, the fact that it works is a miracle and my persistence in replacing the parts. I can only have access to tumblr while I have a laptop! My phone laughs at me if I try to open an app on it. So, I'm here for now, due to the mischief and courage to open the laptop and mess with it, but, if I disappear randomly, the laptop said no, and I didn't manage to access tumblr in the local library because they block risky sites a lot.

[fcble]

GREAT THINGS, PART I

"Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known." — Jeremiah, 33:3.

In which Haksu becomes an idol in an unorthodox way. FEATURING: Kang Haksu, Lee Taein, Fable ensemble SETTING: November 2017 WORD COUNT: 10.3k WARNINGS / NOTES: Stalking, blackmail, extremely heavy-handed religious themes. Welcome to the piece that kicked my ass for over a year 🎉🎉. As in I started it a year ago and then wrote 9k words in the past two weeks. I have versions of this piece in three different perspectives. This is technically a rewrite of something I wrote earlier but now a few times longer 🎉🎉.

You’re going to do great things. You know this because it’s all anyone’s ever told you. You hear it from your father and your mother and your father’s father—until he dies—and your father’s mother—until she dies too—and your mother’s father and your mother’s mother.

You wonder when the great things will start. Time flips by, like the thin pages of the Bible that has resided on your bedside table since you were five. You’re a kid, a teenager, a young adult. You enter and exit middle school and high school. You begin to attend a mediocre university in Seoul, because it’s the only one in the city that accepted you. You brush that off, because you’re going to be great.

You think if you’re really, truly, going to be great, you might have to do it yourself.

The man’s name is Lee Taein. You meet him for the first time in a dream. You memorize the lines and planes of his face, because something about him is familiar. You conclude he must be rich or famous or both. 

In the dream, he doesn’t tell you his name. You find it yourself, on the Internet, holding the image of his face in your head as you comb through the other dream fragments: a stage, a song, a single voice. You’ve never thought about being a singer. You wonder why. 

You know how to sing. You’ve spent over a decade in choirs. You could be a singer.

That, you decide, is greater than whatever you’re doing now, which isn’t much of anything, and certainly nothing someone great would be doing.

You do your research. A lot of research. You spend your nights in bed, the darkness of your bedroom illuminated only by your laptop screen. In the mornings, you spend twice as long covering up the shadows under your eyes. 

It’s a worthwhile exchange. You learn Lee Taein is forty-nine years old. Last year, he parted ways with SM Entertainment to found his own entertainment company. You dig deeper.

He married his current wife four years ago. Her name is Jung Eunyoung. She’s forty-three, and yet has risen no higher than a secretary for a minor law firm. You learn all this from her very public Instagram profile.

His biggest vice is gambling—some of it barely legal, most of it not. You find a news article from 1999 detailing an illegal gambling ring bust. His name is mentioned once.

His new company is called Zenith Entertainment. You’re briefly disappointed to see that the last time they held auditions was February.

There are partially censored Tweets and forum threads speculating the identities of the company’s trainees. You look at the grainy pictures and read the names: Jaeseop, Kiyoung, Eunsu. 

You keep meticulous notes: index cards and the Notes app and a notebook you bought solely to organize your thoughts. Your grades slip. You haven’t attended class in three weeks.

You spend your days at a coffee shop across the street from Zenith Entertainment. You sit in a corner with a view of the building. You order the two cheapest items on the menu: a cookie and a small black coffee. You open your laptop and your notebook and pretend to work, covering the pages of your notebook with another sheet of paper whenever someone walks by.

Mostly, you watch.

You keep track of the people entering and exiting the building. Many of them work in the copywriting agency, based on their business casual outfits. You’ve stepped into the building once, only to be overwhelmed by the bright lights and the quiet hum of computers and the feeling of wrongness at being in a professional setting.

Taein dresses almost the same. If you didn’t know what he looked like, you’d miss him. The difference is in his stride and his posture: back straight, head forward, quick and even steps. You like him even more for that. He arrives in the late morning and leaves after the sun sets. You note the times: 9:43 AM, 10:02 AM, 9:56 AM, 7:19 PM, 7:48 PM, 8:10 PM.

You learn the intricacies of his schedule. There are days when he never arrives at all. You watch and wait as the hours tick by. Eight o'clock, nine o'clock, ten, eleven. No Lee Taein in sight. You wonder what he does when he doesn't work.

There are times when he'll step outside in the middle of the day, the movement catching your eye. You watch him stand on the sidewalk across the street and smoke a cigarette while he speaks on the phone. Twenty minutes later, he'll head back inside.

Sometimes you watch him leave accompanied by a younger man, somewhere around your age, who walks nearly, but not quite, behind him. You assume that must be his personal assistant or secretary or something along those lines.

Some of the people who visit the building must be trainees. You identify them from their age—young—and their dress—casual—and the times they arrive—all throughout the day. Occasionally, they stop by the coffee shop first, becoming more and more familiar to you.

There’s the tall foreigner who pronounces Americano with a distinctly Western accent. He arrives early in the morning, ordering his coffee shortly after you. He crosses the street in casual clothes and leaves in the late afternoon with the copywriter crowd, having changed into a more formal suit jacket and dress pants. You miss his departure for days until you realize he’s dressed differently.

There are the two high schoolers: one in a lurid yellow school uniform and another in a more sensible navy blue one. Sometimes their friend arrives earlier than them and sits a few tables down from you. He doesn’t wear a uniform. He sits for a half hour or so with his earbuds in while his iced coffee melts in front of him, until the high schoolers arrive. They talk loudly and boisterously, as if no one is listening.

You listen. You learn their names—Eunsu, Byeonghwi, Mingeun—and their orders—cold brew with an extra shot of espresso, iced caffè mocha, iced caffè latte. You hear them complain about teachers and Taein and trainee life.

You wonder if they could be your way in.

At night, when your roommate asks where you spend all your time, you tell him you got a job. He asks where. You fidget and your palms sweat and your heartbeat quickens. You stare past him and lie.

That weekend, you travel a few kilometers farther than usual and confess your sins.

Absolved, you think you’re ready for what comes next. 

You have to talk to Taein. You can’t be great if all you do is wait and watch. 

You peruse your notes, all of that information collected from your research and your observations, and then you devise your plan. You ask for His guidance and affirmation every day until you receive it. It comes in the form of one of your professors agreeing to overlook the sudden string of zeros in your homework assignments and tests. You were a decent enough student until a little over a month ago. If your previous work can be so easily overworked and dismissed, then maybe it’s time for your true calling. You’ve waited for this moment your entire life.

Less than a week later, you walk into the building like you belong there, not too early, not too late. You wear a winter jacket, which you shed as soon as you step inside, over a stiffly starched collared shirt and your best Sunday pants. You step into the elevator, alone, and decide to start at the top. You press the button for the fifth floor. It refuses to light up. You press it again and again to no avail. You stand in the still elevator and try the fourth floor.

Your ascent begins. You planned it all out: it's just after nine in the morning, after all the copywriters start their work and much too early for the students to be around. You're a last-minute callback from the audition, though that was months ago. It explains why Taein won't recognize you. You spoke to someone over the phone, someone named—what was her name? You can't remember. She said you should visit, so you're here—and oh, the appointment isn't in his calendar? She must have forgotten. You'll smile winningly and apologetically and Taein will be so charmed he'll agree to take you on on the spot.

You haven’t thought farther than that.

You step out of the elevator and into a dimly lit hall. The very air seems stale. There seems to be no one else around, so you proceed slowly down the hall. The fluorescent lights cast everything in a sickly yellow shade. You’re presented with two doors. The one on the left has a small glass window. You angle yourself away from it, on the off chance that someone sees you and knows you don’t belong. The one on the right is windowless, a blank slate of dark brown wood.

You debate internally for a few moments. The longer you stay there, the longer you risk meeting someone other than Taein. You try the plain door. The knob turns easily in your hand.

“Jaeseop?” A voice asks from inside. You aren’t Jaeseop, but you’ve seen that name before.

You steel yourself, silently ask for His guidance, and turn the knob all the way.

“If you’re asking about managing the social media accounts again, the answer is no,” the voice continues. It belongs to a middle-aged man, in a plain dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a ballpoint pen in the breast pocket. He looks away from his computer screen, and you find yourself face-to-face with Lee Taein.

“You must be lost. The copywriting agency is on the first two floors,” Taein says.

“I’m supposed to be here,” you say. You bow, politely, to him, then add on, “My name is Kang Haksu. I received a call a few days ago—”

Taein cuts you off, which is maybe for the better, because now that you were about to say it, your story is paper-thin and a bit silly. “You didn’t receive anything. There were no calls. You’re no one.”

Nothing is going to plan, so you do your best to improvise. “I know you’re developing an idol group. I need to be part of it.”

Taein stares at you like he can’t believe those words came out of your mouth. You believe them. You need this. Who will you be if you don’t do this?

“This is not a charity.” His voice is bone dry. “We can’t get everything we want in life. It’s better to learn that lesson early. Tell whoever sold you your information on my business and I that I don’t take charity cases.”

“I’m not a sasaeng.” His words sting. It’s a veiled accusation, but an accusation nonetheless.

“I never said you were. People like you are a dime a dozen, thinking you can waltz into the entertainment industry with no experience and no connections and immediately become a superstar. It takes much more hard work, skill, and luck than someone like you can imagine. Try your luck somewhere else.”

His words strip you to the core. Were you too naive, thinking you’d be different? You shrink back from the ferocity of it all, cowed more than you’d like to admit. You don’t take his words to heart. You can’t go anywhere else. You’re supposed to be here, under Taein’s direction. 

You don’t know how or when, but you’ll be back. You’ll find another way. You don’t have anything to say to his words, the humiliation still burning across your face, so you turn tail and flee.

You escape out into the cold, winter morning, no closer to your destiny than you were an hour ago. If anything, you’re objectively farther away. Taein knows you now, knows your name and your face and your deepest desire. You don’t let that stop you. You vow to yourself to never let him get the best of you like that again. You’ll be seeing him a lot in the future, you know, because you’ll be in his group. 

By the time you enter the cafè across the street again, you’re bouncing back. You’ve always been resilient. You’re shielded, after all, by the grace of God. The cashier starts to ring up your usual black coffee and cookie order, but you wave it away and spend a little more on a latte instead. As you sip your drink and stare broodingly at the building across the street, your second plan begins to form. If it’s a sasaeng Taein wants, then it’s a sasaeng he’ll get. 

On your way home, you stop at a convenience store and buy a new notebook. You sit on your dorm room bed and think about the days you spent watching the building, the days when Taein was nowhere to be found. He’s a bit of a workaholic, but clearly not enough to spend seven days a week at his workplaces. You, on the other hand, are unemployed enough to spend seven days a week looking into what he does. You copy the dates and times out of your old notebook and try to find a pattern.

He arrives late on Mondays, but you chalk that up to a normal dislike of Mondays. The rest of the weekdays are sporadic. There was a week where Taein missed three days of work in a row. You wonder if it's something else, if it's easily explainable. Maybe he caught a cold. It is winter, after all. You dismiss the thought. He's up to something. You know he is.

The day he misses the most often is Tuesday, from the few weeks you've watched him. In fact, he's never been at work on a Tuesday. You wonder why you never noticed that before.

It's Thursday, which means you have a few days to continue your research. You do a quick search for how much a private investigator costs, and are shocked by the results. It's fine. You can be a private investigator yourself. How hard can it be?

You plug Taein's name into one of those less-than-reputable websites that promise addresses and phone numbers. You're prompted to create an account and pay a small fee. You click through it all without hesitating. A few thousand won now means very little in the great, grand scheme of your idol destiny.

Multiple people with the same name as Taein pop up. You aren't worried, because your Taein is a public figure. That, and you know his age and his wife’s name.

Eventually, one of them fits the bill perfectly. You take a quick break to straighten your posture and ease the stiffness from your spine. You've been sitting here, engrossed in your new plan, for the better part of an hour. 

Your best guess so far is an address in Hongje-dong. You've been lucky in your observation so far. That must mean you're on the right track. You're getting closer and closer with each passing day. Tomorrow you'll close the distance between you and your destiny.

In the morning, you wake up extra early to get to Hongje-dong before Taein leaves. You doubt he takes the subway anywhere, so you rent a bike and make your way to his address. You only lose your balance twice in your first block. It’s early enough in the morning that there’s no one around to see you.

You arrive at the address much faster than you expected. The sun is only barely beginning to creep over the horizon. Then you pause, because Taein lives in a condominium. Every house on the block looks the same. The only differences are the cars parked out front of each one and the numbers on the houses. You stick out here, a young man on a bicycle with nowhere to go. You take one last look at Taein’s home and the car outside—a white Mazda—then wheel yourself around and pedal out.

You repeat the license plate to yourself in your head until you arrive at a convenience store. It’s the only place around that’s open. You buy a bag of chips and take a seat outside, keeping an eye out for Taein. You add the plate number to your notes and try to figure out exactly what kind of car he drives. You have time to spare. You expect him to head to the Zenith Entertainment building today, and he tends to arrive around nine or ten. After you consider traffic, it shouldn’t take him more than half an hour. 

You’re almost certain he drives a 2015 Mazda 3. You head back inside and buy a coffee. Then you take a few moments to think through your plan. Like if Taein drives, then where in the city does he park? Naver Map told you this convenience store was along the quickest route to Sinmunno 2-ga. What if he has a faster route? 

You’re still worrying when Taein’s car speeds by, much faster than the speed limit allows. You jump up from your seat, nearly spilling your coffee. You can’t hold it and ride your bike at the same time, so you hurry to dispose of it and pack up your notes again. You pray Taein is heading to Zenith Entertainment. It’s a little early, but maybe there’s a good reason for that. You set off in the same direction as him, though he’s disappeared from sight.

You make your way to Zenith Entertainment anyway, and by chance, see a white Mazda disappearing into a parking garage down the road from the company building. It’s too far for the garage to be connected to the building, so you lock your bike across the street and wait for him to leave. You lock and unlock the bike lock three times, fiddling with the combination. You strap the helmet to your backpack and lean against the seat and pretend to look at your phone, all the while eyeing the entrance.

Taein never leaves. You look both ways, then cross the street into the depths of the garage. It’s risky, because Taein could see you and recognize you, but you can’t take the chance that he’s gone somewhere else or is doing something else. Your imagination runs wild, thinking of all the illicit activities he might participate in. There are a number of other cars in the lot. The copywriters, you assume.

Then, in a small walkway that must lead to another entrance, you see him, standing with another man. You duck behind a car, and creep closer to the two of them. Taein must be smoking, because the smell of cigarette smoke permeates your hiding spot. 

“You wanted to do more than catch up,” Taein is saying when you can finally hear them.

“I didn’t.” The other man sounds amused.

“We could have met anywhere else. You insisted on this attempt at discretion.”

“It’s about your case,” the other man says. “They want to open it again.”

“I thought you took care of that, Cheolhwan.” Taein sounds guarded. “How much do they want?”

You don’t know what this is about, but you silently take your phone and start to record. 

“Twice what you gave me. This is above my pay grade.”

They’re quiet after that. You peek carefully through the cars to see if they’ve left. They’re still standing there, the ember at the end of Taein’s cigarette the brightest light. You duck down again without getting a better look at Cheolhwan. You wonder if he’s a loan shark or something. Breaking off and starting a company can’t be cheap.

“Alright. The police never liked me much anyway,” Taein says suddenly. You poke your head back up to watch him drop his cigarette butt to the ground and grind it under his shoe.

Cheolhwan snorts. “I can’t imagine why. Planning on begging Jinguk again?”

“I don’t beg. Jinguk-ssi and I are proper business partners.”

That gets a laugh out of Cheolhwan, the short, rough, sound echoing around the garage. 

You stop your video recording, unsure of whatever that was. You doubt it'll be of use in your quest to be an idol, but you decide to hold onto it for now. You hear footsteps begin to recede in the distance, and you wait in your hiding place until they disappear completely. 

All in all, you feel vindicated. There's something suspicious going on with Taein. You're certain you can get to the bottom of it. It's something to do with money. You can find out who Cheolhwan is. Their relationship is uncertain to you. They spoke casually to each other, but there was a degree of aloofness to the entire conversation that you don't know what to make of. Whatever it is, it was more than a simple meeting between friends.

When you’re certain they’re gone, you stand up, stretching out the crick in your neck. You assume Taein will spend the rest of the day at work, and that’s not somewhere you can watch him too closely. You return to your usual haunt across the street instead and make an attempt to catch up on your forgotten coursework. 

It’s a good attempt, but you lose all steam when the high school trainees arrive. You stare daggers at their backs, because they’re in the exact position you want to be in. You watch them order their drinks and slowly sip them, idling the afternoon by. You don't understand why they don't take their positions more seriously. There are so many other people—yourself included—who are dying to be where they are.

But you aren’t them, so you have to settle for envy.

Eventually, they leave, and you watch through the window as they enter the Zenith Entertainment building, still laughing and talking companionably. You aren't jealous. You could build your own close group of friends. You just haven't. But if you really wanted to, you could.

The sun begins to set, and you know you've outstayed your welcome. You haven't bought anything since your single coffee hours ago. The waitstaff give you sidelong looks every now and then, but they don't ask you to leave, so you pretend you don't see them.

You finally see Taein make his long-awaited exit a little earlier than usual. He's walking fast. This time, you’re prepared. As his Mazda 3 emerges from the parking garage, you’re right behind him on your bike. You think he should be heading home, but that's not set in stone, so you decide to follow him. Your intuition pays off when you see him turn not back to Hongje-dong, but somewhere else. At a traffic light, you pause to try and figure out where you are. You've only lived in Seoul for a year and a half, the length of your short-lived university career. The city blocks are still unfamiliar to you. The light turns green, and Taein speeds off. You rush to catch up with him.

You wonder where he could be going, driving so quickly he nearly bowls over a pedestrian. Leave it to him to be so careless. Your opinion of him is souring faster and faster.

He comes to a stop outside of a small, decrepit bar you’ve never heard of before, still driving too quickly as he pulls into the parking lot. You stop, across the street again, trying to figure out where you are. It doesn’t like the type of scene that caters to university students or tired corporate employees. Your mind goes to the worst places. It could be a front for all the worst types of activities—drugs and gambling and prostitution. You record the name in flickering neon lights anyway.

You’re about to leave and try to return during the day when you spot Taein leaving. He’s in the company of a young woman, and so you almost don’t recognize him. She’s wearing a long coat, but the front is open, giving you glimpses of an outfit that isn’t close to being warm enough for the weather. She clings to Taein’s arm like a lifeline, stumbling over the cracks in the sidewalk in her heels. They look like a couple. Your stomach turns. He has a wife.

With shaking hands, you raise your phone and snap another few pictures. You don’t want to see him anymore, so you don’t bother to try and follow them. You almost regret your decision to weasel your way into his life. Instead, you get back onto your bike and head home.

Saturday arrives. You don't spend your weekends at Zenith Entertainment, because you have better things to do. Or had. This morning, you wake up early again to bike back to Taein's home. You spent some time last night wondering just how far you’ll go to reach your destiny. Between that shady conversation you overheard yesterday and the young woman he met up with, you’re almost afraid of what you’ll see him do next. Sometimes you have to do difficult things before you can do great things.

More than that you’re curious about what Taein does on the weekends. Before this, your impression of him was that of a career-driven man with few feelings or even an existence outside of his job. You don’t understand why you have to work for this man, but it isn’t your place to question it.

You cycle around the blocks a few times, and it slowly comes to light in your head.

Taein is clearly the breadwinner between him and his lawfully wedded wife, so you doubt he spends his weekends shopping or cooking or cleaning. You also doubt he’s devout. As hard as you try, you can't even begin to picture him in church. You're almost certain he doesn't have kids. If he does, it's a very closely guarded secret, because it wasn't mentioned once in anything you read about him online. You wonder if maybe he had kids with his previous wife and lost custody of them. Knowing what you know about him now, you don’t find that hard to believe.

The white Mazda 3 sits outside of his condo. A light is on inside the house. You aren’t looking forward to spending a day waiting for Taein to do something. You wonder if you should have forked over the money—your parents’ money—for a private investigator. Then it would be someone else keeping watch on Taein’s house, someone more suited for the job than one young man shivering on a bike.

You think it's weird for you to sit right outside his house, so you take to patrolling the two possible entrances to the street instead. You pedal slowly, heading up and down the street. At the moment, there's nothing you fear more than having him leave without you noticing. You pause to scrutinize the map on your phone to ensure there are no other exits or back roads or possible ways out of his home other than the main street.

Then, eventually, you see his car roll by. You rush after it. He's driving slower than normal. That's when you notice it isn't him in the driver's seat, but his wife. She's the only one in the car. It makes sense, then, that the car is following the posted speed limits. You wonder what Taein is possibly doing alone at home now.

You ride back to his house, just in time to see him step outside and lock the door behind him. You stare, shocked, and have just enough sense to hide behind the condo across the street. His wife left less than five minutes ago. Where are they going, separate and alone?

Taein heads off on foot. You wait until you see him leave. The bike is a bit cumbersome. How could you have predicted that his wife would take the car somewhere and he’d leave on foot? You walk alongside your bike and try to pretend you aren't following him. You ride halfway around the block in boredom before you have to turn around so you don't lose him. You wish he could walk faster.

You check your phone. What's within walking distance of his condominium? The convenience store you sat outside of. A station? He could get anywhere from there.

The streets are too empty for you to follow closer. If he were to turn around, he'd spot you immediately. It stresses you out. You aren't a professional. You really should have hired a private investigator.

To your dismay, he turns into the subway station. You abandon your rental bike right outside, tapping through the app to return it as you continue to follow Taein. There are a few more people here, which makes it easier for you to follow him, and easier for him to lose you.

He's waiting for Line 3 towards Ogeum, the only line that runs through this station. You check the overlapping lines on the map, standing behind him so he doesn't see you. There are too many options for possible transfers: Jongno 3-ga, Euljiro 3-ga, Chumgmuro, Yaksu, Oksu, and on and on and on. You hope he doesn't travel too far. You hope he doesn't get off somewhere and order a taxi. You fill the time by once again trying to imagine what he does for fun on the weekends. For some reason, you can't picture him doing anything. He's the type of person to spend the weekend at the office. You chart the path to Zenith Entertainment from your current location. It’s two stops on the line and then a short walk. It wouldn't surprise you if he stopped there. You don't particularly want to go to Zenith Entertainment again. You're supposed to find something about him that will leave him no choice but to accept you. The woman he met yesterday was a good start. You wonder if he's heading out to see her again. 

As you're lost in your thoughts, the train arrives. You make sure you're in the same car as Taein, though it increases the chances of him noticing you. You'll have to play it off as a coincidence. You rehearse the lines in your head. You'll pretend you don't recognize him. As if you could forget what he looks like. He might not recognize you, you realize. You met him once, for a few minutes. The train picks up speed.

You pass through the first few stops with no incidents. So Taein isn’t going to work. Your interest is piqued.

You're on the train with him for almost forty-five minutes. You watch station after station pass by, the smooth tone of the recorded announcer reciting stop after stop. Taein makes no move to exit at a single one. He stares down at his phone, which lets you stare at him. He doesn't do anything interesting. All he does is scroll through his phone, tap his screen a few times, then stare. He looks like your average salaryman.

He finally gets off in Yangjae. You’re in Gangnam now. You let him leave first. When the doors are about to close, you follow after him. He isn't heading out, but through the station. You follow him to a transfer to the Shinbundang Line. You only know this because you’re spending so much time staring at the map on your phone, it’s starting to become engrained on the backs of your eyelids.

He rides the new subway line for one stop. You both exit at Gangnam Station. You follow him up back into the daylight. It's much more crowded here, locals and tourists alike. 

Taein walks faster. That probably has something to do with the crowds. You hurry after him, thankful you're no longer burdened with your bike.

He heads down a series of twists and turns, alleyways and backroads forming a route Naver Map would never recommend to you. You’re glad it’s the middle of the day. You’d hate to do this at night.

In front of you, Taein heads into a storefront you wouldn’t be caught dead in. This one doesn’t have a name on top of it. You take a picture anyway, then cross-reference your location with the map. There’s still no name. You debate whether or not you should follow him in. From the outside, it’s not the type of place you belong. But Taein could be doing any matter of incriminating activities in there, and that’s what you need to see.

You let your internal debate rage for a few seconds more. Then you cross the street and push the door open.

The room is dimly lit. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, and when they do, you realize a few of the patrons are looking at you. You’re the youngest person in the room. You slide up to the bar and order a drink. God knows you need it.

You take a small sip and grimace immediately. It's obvious people don't come here to drink. You cast a casual glance around the room, looking for Taein. It isn't too crowded. He should be easy to spot---and vice versa, he could easily spot you. You don't see him. Most of the patrons are more engaged with the TV screens in the corner of the room and across the top of the bar. You expect to see sports or the news or something along those lines. You look up to see horses.

It clicks in your head. Horse racing. These people are day drinking and gambling. You belong anywhere else in the world but here. And where is Taein, in this entire mess?

You flag the bartender down.

"Did you see a man come in?" you ask. "Middle-aged, around my height, with an oversized watch? His name’s Lee Taein." You do a bit of your own gambling, placing a bet on Taein being a regular here.

The bartender regards you curiously. "You’re looking for Taein-ssi?”

"He’s my boss," you say. "He told me to meet him here. I was promoted recently. He wanted to celebrate."

The words fall easily from your tongue. It's more of a lie than the truth, but it could be the truth soon enough.

"Congratulations. He invited you here and didn't tell you the password?" The bartender shakes his head. He points into an ever darker recess of the room. "Down the hall. To the left of the bathroom. 8179."

You thank him and leave your drink alone. The left of the bathroom is a door with a keypad above the handle. You type in the passcode, and the lock clicks.

Taein is on the other side of the door. Your destiny is on the other side of the door. You take a deep breath and crack the door open.

You don't know what you expected. It certainly wasn't the opposite of what you experienced upstairs. For a secret room, it's well-lit and almost cozy. There aren’t many people in the room, just a few small groups of four or five people sitting around green, square tables, playing cards. Now, you spot Taein immediately, sitting behind a decently-sized pile of poker chips, the largest pile on his table. One of the people he's playing with the young woman you saw him with last night. She seems your age, maybe a few years older or younger.

You close the door silently behind you. Your skin crawls. You want to get out of here as soon as possible.

There's another bar down here, against the back of the wall. The drinks on the tables look significantly better than they do upstairs. You think about getting another one, just to make it look like you belong here and you fit in.

No one seems to notice your entrance, too engaged in their games. Your luck holds as you slide around to take a few pictures of Taein, holding your phone just in front of you, at waist level. Your fingers shake, but blurry photos are better than no photos. No one else has their phones out, not even resting on the poker tables. It feels illegal for you to do this. In fact, everything about this feels illegal. You make sure to get Taein's full face in the images, and from multiple angles. Then you slip your phone back into your pocket.

That's when you're interrupted.

"You're new here." A hand lands on your shoulder. A few people—not Taein—look up at that, before just as quickly returning to their games. You turn slowly around to see a man twice your size, a bouncer inside the club.

"I was looking for the bathroom," you say, aiming for young, fresh-faced innocence.

"How old are you, kid?"

"Nineteen," you lie. You’re twenty-one. You hate how easily that one comes out. You could have told the truth.

"Good try," the man says, keeping his firm grip on your shoulder as he guides you back to the exit. You take a glance back at Taein. Throughout the entire ordeal, he hasn't looked up once, much too concerned with the cards in his hands. Although it doesn’t look like it, you hope he loses. 

You aren't in the mood to wait in the real bar until Taein emerges, so you leave.

"Leaving already?" the bartender upstairs asks.

You ignore him. It doesn't matter. You're never coming here again.

You head home to see how blurry your pictures are. You think you might already have enough material to force him to give you a position. He's made it scarily easy for you. You didn't even need a private investigator.

You spend the rest of the week following him around anyway. You've grown used to it: the bike rental and Taein's neighborhood and Zenith Entertainment and a variety of bars and hotels across the entire city you know you’ll never step foot in again, and once, another day spent in Gangnam at a shiny skyscraper. Taein arrived at seven in the morning, earlier than he does at Zenith Entertainment, and didn't emerge until nearly eight at night. That was weird, but you had no way of getting into the building, short of breaking in. You had considered pizza delivery, kid of an employee, new employee, and a few other disguises before giving up. After the bouncer encounter, you’re staying clear of security. And that building made its security obvious, what with all the men in navy blue uniforms and earpieces, standing outside every entrance. What were the chances of Taein doing anything illegal or immoral there? Low, you figured, judging by the number of luxury cars dropping passengers off outside.

In your spare time, you try to find anything about Cheolhwan. With only a first name and a tenuous connection to Lee Taein, it’s difficult. You find two Cheolhwans in Taein’s Korea University graduation class. That was decades ago. You doubt either of those are the same man. 

Regardless, you go through with your new plan. Armed with your newly obtained material, you’re ready for your second attempt. You know Taein's schedule now. That means when he arrives at Zenith Entertainment for the day, on a bright, sunny, perfect Wednesday morning, you're standing outside his office.

"You again," Taein says, calm and impassive. "This type of perseverance is seen as obsessive behavior. The answer is no again."

You haven’t even asked your question. You watch him unlock the door to his office.

"Please leave."

You stop him from closing the door with your foot. "I have something you might want to see."

"I don't think so," Taein says. He seems to be in a bad mood. He must have had a bad night last night.

"If you don't want to see it, I think your wife, Jung Eunyoung-ssi, might have an interest in it instead," you say.

That gets his attention. "I don’t see what you’re getting at. I don’t mix business with pleasure."

"Please don't play dumb, Taein-ssi," you say, adapting to each of his evasive attempts. You didn't plan this out. You remember how poorly that went last time. Taein is unpredictable to you. You don't know him nearly well enough to begin to predict any of his responses. "I know you're seeing another woman."

Taein stares at you. "I suppose you should come inside." He sounds extremely reluctant. At the same time, you know this isn't a conversation the two of you should be having in a corridor. You tamp down the sudden flare of excitement in your chest. 

His office looks the same as you remember it. You take a seat in the plastic folding chair with the uneven legs.

"Are you a private investigator? A detective? You’ll find everything in order."

He’s defensive already. You’ve barely said anything. The investigator comment is a bit flattering. You like it.

“Everything except your marriage,” you note.

Taein shrugs. "Divorce is messy. I don't have time for that right now."

You think it's terrible that he divorced his first wife, and seems to be considering divorcing his second wife. You shove the thought aside and bring out your phone, placing it on the table between the two of you. 

“What’s her name?” you ask. “You seem to spend a lot of time with her.”

It's definitely not the strongest statement, but your proof is what's more important. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

"Did Eunyoung hire you?" Taein asks suddenly, ignoring your comment. He's looking at you, instead of the pictures of himself.

"No," you say. "No one hired me."

The two of you look through the album together: Taein and the young woman, arm in arm over and over and over again, in bars and restaurants and hotel lobbies and out on the street in broad daylight.

Then, Taein swipes one photo too far and you’re both presented with a photo of Taein in profile, staring intently at the two playing cards he’s holding. He picks up your phone. "How did you get this?"

He isn’t denying it any longer. You figure it's hard to deny something when the hard, concrete proof is right in front of you.

"I was there," you say.

Taein thinks about it for a second, then nods. "I didn't recognize you then. You were the one Soogeun-ssi removed."

You don't like his choice of words, but you nod anyway. You didn't think he'd noticed you. You thought you were so clever, getting away with everything. You don’t have anything else to say. Your photos speak for you.

"Who paid you?" he asks again, deathly calm. This is uncharted territory. “How much more would I have to pay you?”

“No one paid me anything. I don’t want your money. All I want is to be an idol.”

He shakes his head. “There are easier ways to do that.”

“This is the way I’m doing it. This is the way I want to do it.” This is the way you have to do it.

Taein’s expression is inscrutable. You’ve played your hand. It’s up to him to respond. You wait with bated breath, until he finally says, “I’ll give you a trial period. If you can keep up with everyone else for a month, we can reconsider your position then. If you can’t, then we part ways amicably. No one, least of all Eunyoung, needs to know what you’ve done.”

“I don’t get anything,” you say.

“You get a chance,” Taein snaps. “It’s more than you deserve. Time will tell if this bet pays off.”

You don’t appreciate being compared to a game of roulette. “I might talk to Eunyoung-ssi any time in the future.”

“You might. It won’t make a difference.” He’s oddly calm. It unnerves you.

“Why not?” You have to ask.

“Cheating isn’t illegal. Nor is playing cards in a private setting. Stalking, on the other hand, is.” You can’t do great things from a jail cell, so that keeps you from continuing to argue. 

Taein continues to speak. “For the time being, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to ruin my marriage. The negative press would be disastrous at this time, and divorce proceedings are lengthy. As long as you want to work for me, our fates are tied.”

That’s a sentiment you can support. You nod slowly. Something like a smile takes its place on Taein's face. “You can come by on Monday. The other trainees know it's too late for me to accept anyone new. Tell them you've been confirmed to debut.”

On your first day, you take the elevator up to the third floor. It opens to a floor much different from the fourth. The left side is the same: a door with a glass window, expanding all the way down as far as you can see. The right side leads into an open office, with cubicles arranged in small groups of fours and fives. There are even a few people sitting amongst the desks. That isn't your place, so you ignore them and push open the door to the left. 

There's one person in the room, a teenage boy sitting down on the floor and stretching. He looks up at you when you enter with sharp, calculating eyes. You recognize him for your days in the cafè—Mingeun. He doesn’t seem to recognize you. He rises to his feet, moving with a grace unfit for his age, like he’s so perfectly comfortable in his body despite being in his awkward teenage years. You were nothing like him when you were his age a few years ago.

“I’m Haksu,” you say. “I’m new here.” You smile at him, something you think is befitting of an idol, but he doesn’t return it. If anything, his neutral expression grows frosty.

“Mingeun,” he says stiffly. “Taein-nim promised there wouldn’t be any more new people. Where are you from? JYP? YG?”

He sounds whiny and childish. You’re unimpressed.

“Gunsan,” you try, though you know that’s not what he means.

Mingeun scowls. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

You’re about to respond, to tell him you’re not from anywhere in the way he means, when the door flies open. You recognize both of the two new arrivals—one is the tall foreigner you’ve seen in the cafè, and the other is the young man you’ve seen following Taein—his assistant, presumably.

“Mingeun!” Taein’s assistant scolds. “Stop harassing the new guy.”

“I wasn’t harassing him,” Mingeun shoots back. “We’re going to be good friends. Right, Haksu-ssi?”

The look he gives you clearly says to play along. You don’t know if you’re going to be good friends, but you nod along anyway. Their conversation continues like you aren’t even there.

“We were just getting to what company he trained at,” Mingeun says. “Then we were going to talk about why Taein-nim thought he should join us.”

Taein’s assistant winces. “You won’t like either of those answers.”

“Another SM reject? I can handle it. I’m over it.”

Taein’s assistant ignores Mingeun and turns to you instead. He holds his hand out, Western-style, and says, “I’m Jaeseop. I’m so sorry about Mingeun. We''—he gestures to himself and the cafè foreigner—”were supposed to be the first ones to meet you. Sam—Taein-nim—held us up. Oh, and that’s Andrew.”

Your first impression of him is that he’s frazzled and all over the place. You imagine being Taein’s assistant is a difficult job. Behind him, Mingeun folds his arms, clearly upset about being excluded from the conversation. 

You grasp his hand. “Haksu.”

“I know,” Jaeseop says, suddenly looking like he’d rather be anywhere but in front of you. “Taein-nim told me about you.”

You wonder how much Taein told him. You don’t think he’d tell his assistant everything. It’s supposed to be a secret between the two of you.

“How many—” You hesitate in the middle of your sentence. Of you? Of us? How long until you're one of them? “—other trainees are there?”

“Seven,” Jaeseop says. “With you, there's eight.”

“If you're expecting monthly evaluations and competing against fifty other trainees, we're past that,” Mingeun cuts in.

“We’re the debut team. We’re all that's left,” Andrew adds.

The three of them seem so in-sync with one another, like parts of a perfect, well-oiled machine. You're the loose cog, the piece of scrap metal carelessly tossed inside, with all the potential of breaking the machine into pieces. And how does Taein's assistant fit into all of this? He seems close to Andrew and Mingeun, closer than an assistant to the CEO should be.

“When will I meet everyone else?” you ask, just to change the subject.

Jaeseop, with all the mental fortitude of an overworked assistant, takes a deep breath and begins to rattle off a list of names and short descriptions and times, most of which fly right over your head. “Intak will be here around lunchtime, after his classes end. Byeonghwi and Eunsu come by after school in the mid-afternoon. Kiyoung-hyung keeps saying he'll quit his job, but he hasn't, so he won't be here until the evening.”

Andrew picks up on your obvious cluelessness, and simplifies it down to, “Intak will be here soon. He'll be extremely bad at small talk. Don't mention it to him.”

You don't know where that came from, but you nod along anyway. These are going to be your group members. You need to get along with them. 

“Don't talk about League either,” Mingeun adds suddenly. You didn't realize he was still part of the conversation. “Unless you're also an SKT fan upset about their loss. He's really into that. You don't seem like a gamer.”

“I play a bit,” you say diplomatically, because you do. You were a teenage boy at one point, and there was no way for you to survive those years without playing League of Legends at least once.

“We all have sensitive topics, “ Jaeseop says as way of explanation. “Things we don't want to talk about and therefore try to avoid unless there's no other way around it. Mingeun, yours are?”

With a sigh, Mingeun dutifully says, “SM Entertainment. All you need to know is that I used to be a trainee there. And my mom. You don't need to know anything about her.”

Jaeseop keeps saying “we.” If you hadn’t seen him so many times with Taein, you’d take him for another trainee. You want to ask what his role really is, but you know you can't, because it'll betray you. It's harder than you expected to act like you know nothing about them. You'll have to be careful to not slip up. 

He turns his full attention to you, and asks, “Got anything?”

This is the last thing you expected from your first day as an idol. Your first item comes quickly. “How I joined Zenith Entertainment.”

You know you'll have to tell them eventually, but for now, you want to get along with everyone. Mingeun looks like he wants to ask you anyway, consequences be damned.

Andrew dismisses him before he can speak. “Byeonghwi asked for the same.”

“He asked us not to ask him why,” Jaeseop corrects. “He got in through the audition.”

Mingeun attacks like a shark smelling blood in the water. “Why’d you do it?”

You could tell them that, you suppose, but something holds you back. You want to be certain you can achieve your destiny before you start shouting it to the world. “I don't want to discuss that either,” you say instead. It's the only way out of it you can see, so you take it.

“Can we talk, hyung?” Mingeun asks, turning to Jaeseop. “Privately?”

You know you'd be the subject of their conversation. You can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. You like the attention, but in this context, it seems bad. You want to get along with Mingeun, but it's clear he has little intention of getting along with you.

“No.” Jaeseop's response is firm, and you like him a little more for that. “You can tell me in front of Haksu-ssi.”

Mingeun falls silent, clearly unwilling to say whatever he wanted to say a few minutes ago.

“Great. Anything else?”

You do have a few other ideas in mind, but you've already chosen two major ones and you're afraid to rock the boat, so you shake your head.

On the wall behind him, you notice, for the first time, a schedule created out of a bunch of individual pieces of paper taped together. You skim over it. It’s overwhelming. There are classes on three out of the seven days, scheduled back to back to back: dance lessons and vocal lessons and rap lessons and media training and a short section on how to walk and more dance lessons. It's overwhelming. You're thankful to see that Sundays are, blessedly, left empty.

Jaeseop follows your gaze. “It’s a lot to take in at first,” he says sympathetically. “You’ll get used to it.”

You will, because you have no other choice. Your options are to adjust, or to give up and forfeit your spot and your destiny. The latter isn’t even in the realm of possibility. You’ll adjust and you’ll succeed, because you have to.

Then it's noon, and Intak arrives. You remind yourself: no comments on his social skills and nothing about League of Legends. He shows up with nothing but a laptop bag slung over one shoulder and a can of Red Bull. He looks over you with a disinterested gaze, asks, “Another one?”, chugs his Red Bull, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he and Andrew disappear out of the practice room to wherever else they go. 

Mingeun leaves shortly after the two of them. You know he's going to the cafè to wait for the two high schoolers, but you don't say that out loud. You watch him leave, and then you're left alone with Jaeseop, the two of you sitting on the floor. 

“If I ask about how or why you became a trainee, can you give me an answer?” Jaeseop asks.

“No,” you answer, because you can't.

“Do you have any relation to the Danyoung Group?” is his next question.

“No,” you say again, unsure what a chaebol who built and now owns three-quarters of the buildings in Seoul has to do with you. “I’m from Gunsan.”

He stares at you like he doesn't believe you. You meet his gaze until he looks away. 

He sighs. “I’ll take you on a tour. You haven’t seen everything yet, have you?”

The question appears much more rhetorical than literal, so you follow him out of the room. 

“The floor used to be all office space,” Jaeseop says, walking backwards as if he’s a professional tour guide. “This half hasn’t been converted yet.” He gestures to the messy sprawl of cubicles. To your surprise, that’s where Andrew and Intak are, two chairs in the same cubicle, though it looks like Intak is the only one working. 

Jaeseop avoids them and makes a beeline for the other side of the space. It’s emptier than you had thought at first glance. He introduces you to a middle-aged man, sitting at a desk, surrounded with a tidy assortment of trinkets and knick-knacks and framed photographs. It’s the polar opposite of Taein’s office.

“This is Sanghyun-nim,” he says. “He’s Taein-nim’s right-hand man. He does all the unpleasant tasks Taein-nim doesn’t want to do.”

That doesn’t seem conducive to your image of Taein. You’ve seen him do a few unpleasant tasks. You suppose those weren’t necessary for his job.

“The menial ones,” Sanghyun corrects. “You’re the new recruit. Kang Haksu-ssi.”

“That’s me,” you say, surprised by the way he recognizes you. You wonder how much Taein told everyone else, what kind of story he fed them. You doubt it was the truth. You hope you can trust him. If you can’t, it’s a little too late for that.

He seems like he could have an entire conversation with you, but Jaeseop whisks you away. “Hyekyung,” he says, of a young woman around your age, with a phone tucked on her shoulder, taking notes with her other hand. She waves in your general direction.

“Social media and marketing,” Jaeseop explains. “I wouldn’t get on her bad side. She’s really the one in charge of this entire area.”

He stops in his tracks and points across the room. You tiptoe to see what he’s trying to point out to you. A woman who looks like she should be a floor below them with the copywriters sits alone at a desk, a wide berth between her and anyone else.

 “Gyeongwon,” Jaeseop says, voice dropped to a whisper. “She doesn’t work here, but she works with Taein-nim. I wouldn’t upset her either.”

He moves on, taking quick strides across the floor to the side opposite the elevator. “The stairwell is here. Goes from the first floor up to the rooftop.”

You think he’s going to take you up the stairs—to the rooftop, maybe—but he stops. “The fourth floor is only Taein-nim’s office for now. I assume you’ve been there. The fifth floor is empty. The elevator doesn’t go up there. If you do ever go up to the rooftop, the door is always stuck.”

You try to follow along, completely overwhelmed with the amount of new names and faces and information you’re expected to now know.

Jaeseop checks the time on his phone. “Mingeun should be back by now.”

You don't have much praise for Jaeseop's tour. This time, when you open the practice room door, Mingeun is pacing. The conversation stops abruptly as you enter. Eunsu and Byeonghwi, you remember, though you can’t remember who’s who. 

Jaeseop comes to your accidental rescue. “Eunsu.” He points out the boy in the mustard-yellow uniform. “And Byeonghwi.”

Byeonghwi gives you a smile and a wave, and you’re immediately struck by how he seems genuinely happy to meet you, as if he was destined to be an idol, forever pretending and playing along with people slipping in and out of his life. Like you, you have to remind yourself. It’s a sharp contrast from the way everyone else has behaved around you. High school students are supposed to be annoying and immature, not better than you at your own fate. You try not to let it get to you.

Not long after their arrival, Intak and Andrew make their re-entrance. Andrew is in a different outfit, the type of corporate wear you’ve seen him leave in. You see your opportunity, so you take it. 

“You changed,” you observe.

“Work,” he says. “I teach English at a hagwon.”

You wonder if he’s qualified to do that, and then if the parents of the students he teaches know that their teacher is focused on being an idol and not on teaching. You should have guessed. What else could he do? 

You watch him leave. Almost as soon as the door shuts softly behind him, Intak pulls Intak to the side and speaks softly. You strain your ears to overhear, though you're drawn into Eunsu and Mingeun and Byeonghwi’s inane conversation. 

"I can't work with him," Intak is saying.

"I know," comes Jaeseop's reply. "You have to try."

"I am trying," Intak hisses. "He's the one who doesn't want to try. He thinks he can do it all by himself. He refuses to show me anything he's working on. He’s impossible."

"I know," Jaeseop says again. He says something else, but you don’t hear it, because Byeonghwi is asking you how and why you joined the company, and you have to tell him that’s not something you’re ready to talk about yet.

You watch the sun start to set out of the windows overlooking the street. They're open, but they face the wrong way and let no air in. You want to go home. Jaeseop steps out to pick up dinner. No one makes a move to leave, so you don't either.

When the sun is fully down, you meet Kiyoung. He arrives looking a bit too much like a copywriter as well. You would have mistaken him for one, had the reception to his entrance not been perfectly warm and friendly.

You learn a few more facts in rapid-fire fashion. He's the oldest of the team. He works for an environmental non-profit organization, and is refusing to quit until he finishes his current project. Before he was a Zenith Entertainment trainee, he was a trainee at another small company that went under before he could debut. He met Jaeseop when they were both in middle school and their schools double-booked the same trip location.

You exchange a few more pleasantries, and then the mood of the room shifts more towards homework than anything else, because everyone—with the exceptions of Kiyoung and Intak—are still in school. It surprises you to learn that Jaeseop is a student.

“This is my last semester,” he explains when you ask. “I don’t go to class much anymore. I’ll graduate just fine.”

You’re beginning to feel like the odd one out, so you continue your hopeless quest to catch up on all your work. You probably aren’t going to graduate. You probably aren’t even going to finish this semester.

Andrew returns later in the night, and that, for some reason, signals the end of the day. Eunsu is pressed to the glass, announcing his imminent arrival before he even steps foot in the building. Andrew’s single action upon returning to the third floor is to pick up Byeonghwi, who seems only too enthusiastic to leave. After that, it’s a free-for-all bordering on a bloodbath. You wait, because you’re new, and it’d be rude of you to be one of the first to leave.

Then it’s you and Jaeseop and Mingeun, nearly a mirror image of the morning. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Jaeseop says to you, and then in almost the same breath, “Make sure you go home, Mingeun.”

Mingeun scowls.

You nod, though you’re almost dead on your feet. You think being a private investigator might be a little easier. You aren’t sure how, but you’ll survive it. You have to. It’s the only way you can do great things.

[prince-liest]

Haven't done this before.... is this thing on? helooo... So I wanted to ask, since you are writing a lot, do you have a mechanical keyboard? As someone who fell into the absolute rabbithole that is mechanical keyboards a few years ago, I am always interested in other peoples experiences. So, if not, ignore my following completely nerdy ramblings: I personally like the clicky and tactile types. My favourites are Kaihl Box White, Jade and Midnight Purples. Thanks!

Hello! Welcome to my inbox and possibly Tumblr, haha—I love seeing familiar usernames from AO3!

So the perils of being a student who frequently has to change locations and have a computer at work means that I've been using exclusively laptops since graduating high school in 2014! I currently use a ROG Zephyrus G14 (though I don't remember the year as I bought it used-like-new off a friend), which, by the by, I would highly recommend to anyone who wants a lightweight but powerful gaming laptop that has a pretty, work-appropriate aesthetic and travels very well because it has a separate, integrated graphics card that allows it a 10 hour battery life.

HOWEVER. I know a bunch of people that are into keyboards and I gleefully anticipate the day (probably in another three years, once I finish residency and move again) when I can get an actual desktop and finally find out what the heck all of y'all are on about, hahaha. My dad does have a nice clacky one with low-set buttons that I find really satisfying, though. A childhood of him playing Doom 3, Far Cry 2, and Battlefield 2 in the living room while I read on the couch makes it a very comforting background noise to me. At least until I started stealing his desktop to play WoW and Overwatch, hahaha.

[divineprank]

OKAY. NOW THAT I GOT MY SANCTIMONIOUS FINGER-WAGGING OUT OF THE WAY....

...Kinda!

I had to take a break, and sure enough, the day I WANTED to come back, the computer I use to write with fucking fried. So a friend and I tried our best to troubleshoot it. We thought the problem was the power supply unit failing, but uh, nope! Turns out my entire motherboard just went kablooey! This is perfect timing, as I just bought a fucking car and I lost the job I had. I built the fried computer seven years ago and today, I learned that the motherboard's chipset is no longer being manufactured. So that means I have two options: either start building a new PC altogether or take a gamble on a used, but compatible motherboard.

If I don't have a computer then how am I back? Am I RPing using Tumblr mobile? GOD NO. I hate navigating that app, trying to get it to do anything other than lag, destroy the aspect ratio of your icons, and demolish the formatting of your posts is just like pulling teeth...Except it's worse than pulling teeth because at least at the dentist, you can opt to get high on nitrous oxide when getting that kind of work done. PLUS UH, I don't technically have a phone. I busted mine a while back and am currently borrowing my mom's. Just another thing to spend money I don't have on. 8')

I am currently using a hand-me-down laptop that I obtained as a gift for building a new desktop computer for my dad early this year. The thing is around... 15 years old a this point, and despite how hard I tried to fix this thing, it freezes regularly, overheats and the fans constantly and the CPU just CHUGS. So far I've been able to get by doing very simple work on it and that's going to be the case for the time being.

SO...

Thanks to the limitations I am currently facing, I will be unable to use icons in my RP threads for the time being. They're saved onto the fried desktop computer and I have no way of accessing them currently. It's not a huge loss because I'm not thrilled with my icons but I know some people like to use them, so I apologize for the lack of etiquette there, haha.

Since this laptop suffers like hell doing anything even slightly taxing, I will not be picking up old RPs right now. Most of them are multiple reblogs in and are novel-length, which is typically how I prefer to write. I just know that if i try to open those threads in my drafts and make any changes to them, the browser will freeze and crash. So for the time being, I will just start new, smaller threads rather than try to work on anything I have saved currently.

I AM NOT DROPPING OUR THREADS. I VERY MUCH INTEND TO CONTINUE THEM AND RESPOND TO OUR RPS WHEN I AM ABLE TO GET MY HANDS ON A DEVICE THAT WON'T CRASH WHEN WRITING LARGER POSTS!!!

So, just to reiterate: I will be keeping everything saved and I will NOT be working on any our old RP threads due to the limitations of the 15 year old laptop that I'm currently running. For the time being, I WILL ONLY be writing and participating in new, small RPs. Thank you so much for your understanding. If you have any questions, feel free to send 'em my way!.. And as always, Gan's askbox is open! <3

[lantur]

highlights,

Lots of good things since the end of June! It helped my mental health SO much to be off work on July 1, 2, 3, and 4. I had a very calm, quiet, and short week at work before starting another weekend. :)

My big win from the holiday weekend is that I made samosas from scratch for the very first time, and they turned out great. I've never deep fried anything before, and I feel like that gave me confidence and opened up new horizons in cooking. I can't wait to try making my own egg rolls.

Derek and I also watched the D&D movie with my brother and sister in law over the holiday weekend, and that was SO fun. I loved the movie.

Life's felt pretty good lately in the rhythm of sleeping better, having great workouts with running and swimming, cooking good food, and taking care of Westin and my garden.

Writing has been going well. I've been writing by hand in my notebook, which is slow, but I enjoy that process more than typing on my laptop.

I've finished a couple of (nonfiction) books lately, which were both interesting. The Forgotten Girls: A Memoir of Friendship and Lost Promise in Rural America, by Monica Potts, and Butts: A Backstory, by Heather Radek. I'm so glad I bought the tablet to read on; it's worlds better than reading Libby on my phone and I'm reading more as a result.

I got to hang out with a NEW FRIEND last night. :)) I don't make new friends often because of anxiety, but I had so much fun with her, and we have a lot in common! It was so exciting. I moved here 7 years ago with very few friends (none irl), knowing nobody here, and I've worked hard to build a good group of friends and family. That makes me really happy.

lowlights,

My mom has been really distant emotionally since my dad died in early May. She moved from California to the East Coast and she's currently staying with my aunt. (Right after my dad passed, and even in the months leading up to that, I offered to help her find a place to live near me, but she didn't want to come to my state.) I've been reaching out to her every day to check in, but she's been very short with me.

We haven't gotten along for years, but the rejection still hits hard. I was hoping (and planning) that we could and would pull together after losing my dad. After all - my mom is the only parent I have left. I'm the only immediate family member she has left. I thought that would count for something.

The whole situation has been causing me a lot of distress, but I'm coping with it in a variety of ways, including reminding myself that she may just be distant because of grief/depression, and that the way she's acting toward me right now isn't necessarily a reflection on me as a person - it's because of her feelings. I'm also coping with it by reminding myself that I have a full life with loving friends and in-laws, even though my parental/family of origin situation is not great.

[seiwas]

MISS SEL HALLOOOOOO i'm dropping by for a chat :3

firstly, happy june!!! it's officially hit summer temp's where i am and i'm smiling through the tears (and sweat) :,) HOW WAS YOUR MAY!!

a little mini life update: i went to go see the haikyuu movie and omg!!!! OMG!! that is all i shall say in case you and others here haven't seen it yet BUT IF Y'ALL KNOW Y'ALL KNOW!!!!!!

wait last thing about the movie, seeing some of my favorite panels animated literally had me SOBBING in that movie theater and i'm so glad i told my friend who i went with that if i see these 3 panels animated i am going to bawl on the spot

AND THEN LOOSELY RELATED TO MOVIE: my friend and i were the ONLY people in the theater at the time IT WAS SO COOL like a whole private theater and we had like our rich moment (aka it was like we bought out the entire theater for the 2 of us it was so so cool HAHA)

and then my very much cheating koi curiosity question is what have you been thinking about lately! (e.g. about a fic, character, life in general, etc!)

hello koi!! lovely of you to drop by, happy june!! 🥹 i hope things cool down for you soon, or at least—you find things to help you cool down 🥹

my may went by so fast!! but the past week felt like forever 😵‍💫 how was your may?

and omg the haikyuu movie!! i haven’t seen it yet 🥺 i’ve been so busy i haven’t gotten the time 😭 i might end up just watching it from my laptop atp 🥺 i’m so glad your favourite panels were animated though, that must have meant so much to you 🥺 +++ i’m so happy you had such a good experience, having the entire cinema to yourselves omg 🥺 i remember that happened to me and my friends when we watched batman 2 years ago 😭

what i’ve been thinking about lately hmm… for life, it’s really mostly been work! and a few big moves i’m planning for the next year 🥹 for fic + character, i’ve actually been thinking about shouto a lot 🥺 because i’m currently working on a fic for him!! i intend to include a few family scenes too, so i’ve been reading a few touya fics to get a ~~feel for how he is and 🥺🥺 i’ve been really emotional abt him as well 🥺 what about you?

[msbarrows]

Bad News, But Also Good News

So I heard back from Geek Squad this morning. It's the motherboard in my gaming laptop which needs replacing. Since I bought this one directly from HP Canada, not Best Buy, it's not a model they have access to get the part for, so they've shipped it back unrepaired.

BUT - the good news. Someone, I assume while they were checking to see if I was owed any rebate of the repair fee I pre-paid, double-checked its warranty status. Turns out I still have 25 days left on it's 3 Year Care Pack coverage, which I hadn't seen when checking the HP site myself, because it's on a detail page I didn't access - the summary I did see on my HP dash just says "details unavailable", which I thought meant there was no coverage. I bought it three years ago, I figured it had been 1 to 2 year coverage.

So the Geek Squad guy read me off the serial number for my laptop (since it's currently in transit from southern Ontario) and told me to contact HP directly for service. After a half hour or so spent with someone on chat^ they agreed that yup, sounds like it's probably a hardware issue, and are shipping me a shipping box to ship it in for service.

So it's going to take a while longer, but the laptop should eventually be fixed.

Also, since it was actually still under warranty? Best Buy is fully refunding the repair fee. Thank you, Geek Squad guy!

^ either a bot or someone with a script they had to rigidly follow despite whatever the customer told them - hello, the Geek Squad diagnostician says the motherboard is fried, I don't think holding down the power button for 15 seconds is going to cut it, but sure, yes, that was something I actually did do before sending it out for repair.

[psychosynchrony]

Mechanical Keyboards: A Descent into Madness

Today I feel like rambling about keyboards.

I spend a lot of my waking hours with a keyboard. Between the desk job and the gaming habit, it's kind of unavoidable. And I'm hard on keyboards. Like legends-gone-within-a-couple-months hard. But until a couple years ago I just... didn't think about the quality of my input devices. Missing legends weren't a big deal because I can touch-type. Uneven shiny keys? Same thing. (Keycap shine still doesn't bother me, ngl). But I had a laptop for home, and I had the $20 logitech membrane keyboard at work, and it was fine.

Then my laptop had a catastrophic failure and I replaced it with a desktop, and suddenly I needed an actual keyboard.

Part 1: How It Started

The descent into madness started with a Logitech G613--which is an absolute battleship of a full-size keyboard. It takes up SO MUCH SPACE. But while it was nice-enough to type and game on, the cat tended to sprawl across either the macro column or the numpad, and it was nearly impossible to clean. So after a few months I invested in a Ducky One 3 SF.

That Ducky was one of the best and worst things I could have bought. The size profile was perfect. It came with Cherry MX Browns and (claimed to have) doubleshot PBT keycaps, and it felt so nice to type on. This was a solid, even typing experience. It came with a cap and switch puller (so it was easy to clean and also easy to experiment with other switches) and over the 9 months of daily use I wore WASD and most of the surrounding keycaps smooth.

It was also a piece of junk. This thing had key chatter from day one. I downloaded the firmware update that was supposed to fix it and it kind of helped, but by the 6 month mark I was at my wits end.

Part 2: How It's Going

Over the course of the last year and a half I have built (4) keyboards.

First came the Tiger80 Lite, a lightweight polycarbonate keyboard that I still use for its sheer comfort factor, even though it's no longer my primary work keyboard. I built it with Tecsee Coral switches, and it's been through way too many sets of keycaps because everything goes with a white case. Right now it has KAT Cat's Eye. Great board. Very soft. Not loud. Just a little large for my work desk, sadly.

Then came the Zoom65R2, which ended up being my primary home keyboard for gaming. Despite a billion flex-cuts in the plate and PCB, I built this with a brass plate and Tecsee Snowglobe switches, so it's a pretty solid typing experience. Its also the only board with uniform profile caps (KAM Ghost) because I found that works well when I'm gaming. Finally, there's Ellipse, which is my current work keyboard. This thing is a very elegant brick, and the loudest keyboard I own. Idk if it's the Salmon switches, the SA caps, or what. But this thing just isn't quiet. Really really nice to type on though, and I have my own office, so that's fine.

(but you said 4 keyboards)

sigh

I did. But we don't talk about the Dolphin75.

[survey--s]

581.

What is the speed limit on your street?: 20mph but absolutely nobody sticks to it.

A word that describes you, starting with the last letter of your last name?: I have no idea.

What is the age diff between the last two people you kissed romantically?: Three years.

What day of the week does your garbage get collected?: Monday, and recycling gets collected on Thursday, but only every two weeks.

How many hours have you worked this month?: Not very many but it's only August 6th.

How many schools have you attended?: Two schools, two universities.

What has brightened your day today?: I got a decent amount of sleep and it's generally been a really chilled out day.

Run your fingers through your hair and measure a stray you retrieve. How long is it?: My hair is tied back.

How did you or whoever come up with the name(s) for your pet(s): Archie was named by the breeder. Purrlock was named after Sherlock. Toby was named because I thought he looked like a Toby, and Simba is obviously after the Lion King. Our old cat Layla was named after the Eric Clapton song that was playing when we brought her home.

What are you listening to?: The Desolation of Smaug.

When is the last time you clipped your nails?: 2-3 days ago I think.

Plucked your eyebrows?: Yesterday.

Washed your hair?: This morning when I had a shower.

Whose birthday is coming up next, that you know in your head?: My ex's birthday is in a few days.

When is the last time you danced? Alone or with another?: Today and I was on my own.

Who is your most annoying colleague?: I work alone thankfully so never need to worry about that anymore.

What is your weight?: 12 stone.

What is your height?: 5′9".

What country were you born in?: England.

Which countries have you been to?: Canada, Australia, Singapore, Dubai, Malaysia, Qatar, the UAE, Norway, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Sicily, Lanzarote, Fuertaventura, Austria, Switzerland, England, Wales, Scotland...I think that's it.

Last green food you ate?: Spinach.

Red food?: Raspberries.

Yellow food?: Cheese.

Purple?: Berry compote, that was kind of a purple colour.

What is the name of the strain of weed you currently have?: I don't smoke weed.

Does the city you live in have Skip the Dishes, Über Eats, etc.?: We have FoodHub but only a couple of places are signed up to it.

Last article of clothing you purchased?: Shorts.

Last electronic you purchased?: A new laptop.

Last thing you bought for someone else?: Does cat food count? lol.

Last thing someone gifted to you?: My mum paid for brunch yesterday if that counts?

Colour of the last pen you used?: Black.

Last marker?: Black.

Do you use bug spray?: No.

What is your blood type?: I have no idea.

From where did you last bleed?: My finger - Simba scratched it while I was giving him his medication.

Who did you last walk a dog with?: My mum and my husband.

Ride bikes with?: Mike.

Hold hands with?: Mike.

For what reason did you last high five someone?: I was doing some training with the dog lol. One of his tricks is high-five.

[purplesurveys]

1694

1 - When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Around a month ago when I bought my Dunks. I wanted to have nice shoes for my holiday, but it was also to give a subtle fuck you to my Nike-competitor client since they’re turning out to be my least favorite client.

2 - Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? I guess BT21 plushies count as stuffed animals, yeah? And no, I wouldn’t judge at all. I don’t care for the most part how people live their lives.

3 - Would you describe yourself as fashion-conscious, or do you just wear whatever feels comfortable? Hm, I’m pretty conscious. I like to look good. Some days I’ll be tempted to just go the comfy route, but then I’ll change my mind once I look in the mirror and see that my top and bottom don’t match. 4 - The last time you got up from where you’re sitting, where did you go and what did you do? I went from the living room to my bedroom since I wanted to have a bit of me time with the rain before I need to start working tonight.

5 - Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Read.

6 - Who taught you how to tell the time on a proper analogue clock? It may have been my older cousin.

7 - What’s your favourite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? I don’t invest in this kind of stuff, tbh. I’ve used a scented candle once or twice but I’ve never held on to it as a habit.

8 - How long have you had the computer/tablet you’re currently using? Does it need replacing or upgrading? I’ve had this trusty laptop since 2017, so it’s been over six years. It definitely needs upgrading if we’re being technical – I’ve since stopped receiving Chrome updates for it – but since I only ever open this anymore to take surveys, I’m not in a hurry to replace it anytime soon.

9 - When you’re home alone, do you make sure all your doors are kept locked? Only in the evening when I turn in. Otherwise, I don’t mind keeping the doors open during the day. I live in a safe, private neighborhood and everyone minds their own business. 10  - How often do you light candles? Do you just like regular ones or do  you prefer scented ones or ones that make pretty patterns when they melt? Never. The only ones I’ve used have been gifts, too. 11 - Are you any good at taking care of plants? Nope. They never last with me.

12 - How many surveys have you taken so far today? Will you take anymore surveys today once you’ve finished this one? This is my first one today; I’m not sure if I’ll take any more after this. If I do, I’m guessing around one or two more before it starts to feel tiresome. 13 - What are the main two colours in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colours out yourself? White and brown. Sure.

14 - What was the last hot drink you consumed? What about cold drink? I had hot milk tea in Malaysia – apparently they like their milk tea hot! Pretty unique experience. As for cold drink, I’m having iced coffee right now.

15 - Do you have piercings anywhere except your ears? How many and what are they? Nope, you got it right with just ears.

16 - Do you prefer taking baths or showers? How come? Showers because 1) we don’t have a bathtub, and 2) starting a bath is just too much work for me lol. It’s also like, you need time to fill it up, then you just sit in your own dirt and stuff. Not really a fan.

17 - What time do you need to wake up tomorrow morning? What is it that you have to be up for? 9 AM at the latest – work.

18 - If you work, how often do you get paid? Would you prefer to get paid more or less often? Every two weeks. I’m fine with the length; I learn how to budget from it.

19 - What does your favourite pair of pyjamas look like? Do you wear them to sleep or just to be comfy around the house? It’s purple and has a checkered design. Yes, I just wear it in the evening when I’m about to sleep.

20 - How often do you wake up in the night needing a pee? That never happens as I stay up long enough to sleep through the entire night, anyway.

21 - What apps do you use the most on your phone? Twitter, YouTube, Facebook, and Reddit.

22 - Do you prefer cats or dogs? Do you own any of either? I like dogs; yes, we have two.

23 - Do you have one of those fridges that has an ice-maker in the front? If not, would you find one useful? We don’t have an ice-maker, and I have no immediate need for one.

24 - Do you like wearing hats? What’s your favourite style? Yes, I have several bucket hats.

25  - If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? Back then with Kimi I used to be the all-around parent, from feeding him, cleaning up after him, bathing him, to paying for vet visits. With Cooper and Agi, my sister and I split – I pay for anything that needs to be paid, my sister feeds them.

26 - What’s your opinion on leggings as pants? Whatever?

27 - Have you ever driven in bare feet or do you think that’s too dangerous? That’s...so unusual. Literally nobody does that around here.

28 - Have you ever walked out of a job before? What were the circumstances and did you ever go back? Nope.

29 - Do you collect anything? Are these things worth money or are they practical/sentimental items? Just K-pop merch. They are both.

30 - Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Nopes.

[soft-epilogue-continues]

5.10.23

Ok so I got nothing done yesterday except the project update and filing my nails. In my defense, the novel-length fic I was reading was really good and brought me lots of joy.

I have spent the past half an hour working on my own fic so that I could get it out of my system, though this has made me even more excited to work on it and I hope I can keep that excitement up this evening. With any luck I'll be able to edit this chapter and post it tonight!

Also in my defense of yesterday's zero output, I started looking for a new job, which I do every once in a while when the ennui gets to be too much.

My thought is that if I transition away from being a software engineer and go to being a product manager I would have all the same bullshit I'm dealing with now but with none of the inferiority anguish I feel from being a shit programmer. I have a few options in this regard:

Apply for a product manager role I don't necessarily want just to have the interviewing practice and see if I can get such a job.

Attempt to transition to a similar role at my current company to see if I even like it.

Put my nose to the grindstone and become a better programmer even though every bone in my body is screaming that while I am capable of this, I do not want to do this.

At the moment I want to do option 2 though I suppose I should also make more of an effort at option 3. Regardless I think I'm giving myself until next March for a few reasons:

I don't want to give back my new work laptop and it will officially become mine in March 2024.

All of my stock options will have vested by then and I will have had the opportunity to exercise as much of them as possible (need to get on this this year actually so taxes are less of a headache).

I will have gone through another review cycle which, according to my last one, means I might get promoted if I get my ass in gear since the only thing holding me back is how slowly I deliver completed projects, a fixable thing.

The length of time will give me a chance to "design my work life" (as per that book of the same name that I will be going through) and see, in the most risk-averse way possible, if I even like the work required of a product manager. To that end there are a few things I can start doing now that I know of without even going through that book's work sheets, such as attending my working group's assessment meeting tomorrow and maybe checking out the work done by the current product team, of which I am not 100% certain that we even have one as such. All of this I will record in the incredible Japanese notebook/bullet journal with my incredible Japanese pen (pictured above) that I bought on my work trip to Tokyo two weeks ago (just another thing to be grateful for about this job - I get to go on awesome trips!)

Ok! Enough outlining grand plans, the to do list!

Work:

Quantitative experiment analysis

Qualitative analysis

Phone roaming charges reimbursement I have checked on this and I have not yet been charged for international stuff

Work trip photos, part 1 Done though I will take a break here and actually share them with my coworkers another time, I've spent enough time on this today

Read the assessment before tomorrow's meeting

Investigate the product team

Go through mountain of receipts for reimbursements

Registration form for upcoming all company meet up

Personal Admin/Life:

Exercise

Cook dinner

Health expenses substantiation

Budget

Personal Creative:

Work on fic #1

Work on digital painting

Self portrait?

Volunteering!!! (I am so behind on this. This is actually a programming project of the computational linguistics variety which is its own possible career exploration, not to mention actually interesting, so I can't neglect this!)

[terrencetheshark13]

1. Probably my Zoro tapestry I got as a gift

2. I'm not sure, my current height is good enough for me

3. It depends, if it's freshly cleaned it's a very light golden brown, in a day or two it gets dark brown

4. Uhhh I dunno!

5. Wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy

6. Not really, no

7. I dunno, don't remember being a kid much, probably reading?

8. Music probably?, I have others but not really any I like

9. I dunno, probably physical affection

10. Pretty often, sometimes out of nowhere

11. Maybe 1-2 of them

12. Hmm, I'm not sure, maybe Spanish?

13. Somewhere more north, colder, I like the cold and I want to see snow again

14. You'd have to ask other people that, I'm surprised by how cool people think I am if that counts

15. Three days ago... I'll take one today

16. A couple months back, when reddit started the api shit

17. Not really, not now

18. Hmm, it depends if you mean "dream" as ambition, or "dream" as in what happens during sleep, not sure what it would be for the sleep one

19. A cowboy (does this count as a job?? Just like, a ranch hand or something)

20. I dunno, something calm and warm

21. A lot

22. Somewhere not as actively dangerous for minorities as the USA

23. I don't choose favourites, but it'd have to be one of my friends

24. Yeah probably

25. Hmm, I'm not sure, perhaps the rare Thanksgiving where we can visit our grandma, and most of my dad's side of the family is there, or Christmas

26. I'm not sure, don't feel like sharing either

27. No idea, I want to be a vampire for this year though

28. Cooking probably!

29. Yeah??

30. Yes, one

31. If the world is gonna get fixed without killing off humanity, and how long is it gonna take

32. I don't even know what this question means

33. I don't know

34. Refer to question 5

35. Whenever I shower

36. Sometimes, not usually though

37. My room, or if it's late enough I'll go out to the corner of the yard and look at the stars

38. They both have their issues, but probably my dad

39. I try to stay kind

40. A couple of my friends voices, can't think of anyone else off the top of my head

41. I'm not sure, something hopeful, or telling people to be kinder

42. There's lots, ambitions, things I want to see or watch, books I want to read, and more

43. There's a lot, and I don't feel like opening that can of worms right now

44. Not until I have proof somehow

45. I prefer the book almost every time

46. Either Autumn or Winter, I like the cold

47. Either the late night (2-4 am) or the early morning (6-8 am)

48. Yes, a stuffed shark named Terrence, I named my internet persona after him

49. I don't want to talk about that sorta thing

50. (woaah we're halfway there) I bought a game that I really wanted to play only to realize it would probably not run on my laptop + it takes up a lot of space, and I missed the refund window cause it was on sale and I was thinking I could just play it when I get a better pc

51. Yes

52. Enders Game

53. I don't really hate anyone? Probably the girl who was really manipulative to me and just an all around bitch

54. I dunno man

55. I don't pick favourites with much, currently I'm really enjoying Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance again

56. I don't really know

57. No

58. No

59. Very different

60. Yeah!

61. Not really? Not that I remember (Does the app not working and me having to re-install it count?)

62. This random free puzzle game that was just a pain to play

63. Yeah, I still am

64. I usually either sorta deny them, or compliment the person back, or don't know what to say

65. Being kind, and loving me

66. Yeah

67. Does my partner count?

68. Mhm!

69. What??

70. I don't really ship people

71. Something by Queen, perhaps Too Much Love Will Kill You, but I love so many of their songs

72. No

73. Probably

74. It varies

75. Sometimes

76. Not really

77. Yes, a dog

78. A green that I really like

79. I'd worry less, and be less needy, and have a somewhat normal brain

80. Do stitches count?

81. I don't know, mosquitoes probably

82. Sleeping with a regular schedule

83. Nope

84. Sometimes

85. Yeah!

87. No, not really

88. Tumblr of course, and Discord

90. I think when it gets past noon it doesn't count as staying up anymore

91. Yes, they were annoying

92. I hate skibidi toilet.

93. Cool jackets

94. Hell yeah

95. Hell yeah! It looks neat and there's nothing wrong with it

96. Man I don't know, how can you dislike a time? It's a natural process of the universe, nothing to hate about it

97. If I notice it, yeah

98. I had it on military for a bit, but switched it back

99. Yes, it's not bad (in my experience), but if I could be somewhere else I probably would

100. Hell yeah, I'm a queer ass genderfuck

ask game

1. whats your favorite thing in your room?

2. how tall do you wish you were?

3. what color is your hair?

4. whats a rare fear that you have?

5. are you single?

6. has your heart ever been broken?

7. what was your favorite thing as a kid?

8. favorite coping mechanism?

9. whats your favorite love language?

10. how often do you get nervous?

11. if you had three wishes, would you use them?

12. if you could be fluent in any language which one would it be?

13. where do you wish to live?

14. what’s something surprising about you?

15. when did you last shower?

16. when did you first join tumblr?

17. do you want any tattoos? if so, where, what, and why?

18. whats the most prominent dream youve had?

19. whats your dream job?

20. whats your ideal date?

21. what do you wish you could do better?

22. what country would you live in if you could?

23. whos the best person you know?

24. have you ever walked into something you shouldnt have?

25. whats your favorite holiday?

26. when have you been most embarrassed?

27. whats your favorite halloween costume?

28. what are you best at?

29. do you know how to tie your shoes?

30. do you have siblings?

31. if you could know one thing about the future what do you wanna know?

32. whats a dealbreaker for you?

33. whats your favorite current class?

34. how many people have you dated?

35. how often do you wash your hair?

36. do you daydream? what about?

37. where do you go to be alone?

38. which parent do you like more?

39. whats the one standard you hold yourself to?

40. whos voice do you enjoy?

41. if you could announce one thing to the world what would it be?

42. whats one thing you wanna do but havent yet?

43. what do you wish you never did?

44. do you believe in life after death?

45. do you prefer book over movie?

46. whats your favorite season?

47. whats your favorite time of day

48. do you have a beloved stuffed animal?

49. whens a time you wish you acted differently?

50. what’s something you wish that you never bought?

51. do you have your own room?

52. whats your favorite book?

53. who’s someone you hate?

54. whats your best hottake?

55. whats your favorite game?

56. whens a time you felt real genuine fear?

57. are you a morning person?

58. do you drink enough water?

59. how different are you from the little kid you used to be?

60. do you enjoy tumblr?

61. have you ever had a tumblr experience that made you wanna delete the app?

62. whats your least favorite game?

63. were you a markiplier fan?

64. how do you respond to compliments?

65. whats something that would make you fall in love?

66. do you believe in marriage?

67. do you have a crush on someone?

68. do you like tumblr?

69. were you a voltron stan?

70. whats your favorite ship?

71. whats your favorite song?

72. do you like loud crowds?

73. have you ever created conflict on purpose?

74. how do you sleep?

75. do you bite your lips?

76. do you use chapstick?

77. do you have any pets?

78. what color are your eyes?

79. what’s something you wish you could change about yourself?

80. have you ever had surgery?

81. whats your least favorite animal?

82. whats something that youre really bad at?

83. do you have an sqishmellows?

84. do you enjoy fast food?

85. do you like soda?

86. what grade are you in?

87. do you wear any jewelry?

88. what socials do you use?

89. whats your lowest grade in school right now?

90. whats the latest youve stayed up till?

91. did you ever have bangs?

92. what trends did you hate?

93. whats your favorite item of clothing?

94. do you like dinosaurs?

95. whats your opinion on body hair?

96. whats your least favorite time?

97. do you make a wish at 11:11?

98. do you have your phone on military or regular?

99. have you ever been to church?

100. are you lgbtq?

[by-soleil]

spell

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Genre: angst, just angst (okay maybe a little fluff in you squint)

Warning: kissing, conflicted vernon

This fic was inspired by "Spell - Niki"

A Vernon birthday special<3

•••

This dangerous game you’ve been playing with Vernon, have gone out of your control. Your friends keep warning you that you’re playing with fire. And Vernon is not someone who can easily be fixed. He’s never gonna show you the same love you’ve been showing him for the last couple of months. And that you and Vernon should just stay friends.

You of course know that your friends intentions are great, not wanting you to swallow the hard pill that you know you’d have to swallow eventually if you keep this shenanigans up. But upon seeing or even just thinking about the boy, your heart turns into a mushy mess. Risking the better part of your sanity for the greek-god looking boy that keeps addressing you as his ‘good friends’.

Delightful.

“We should get our nails done. I keep breaking a nail, its ridiculous.” one of your friend says from the bean bag across the room. Flashing her broken nail so everyone could see.

You cringe, “That must’ve been painful. I’m down, my gel’s all chipped anyway. What about you?” you turn you head to your other friend who’s currently busy with her laptop.

“Yeah, sure. Give me like 10 minutes, I have to submit this paper. How are y’all not panicking over this? This shit worth a third of the final mark.” she throws suspicious glare towards the both of you.

“That’s one of the reason you should get a boyfriend, babe. Our boyfriends got it done for us hours ago—oops, I mean my boyfriend and Vernon did. Since, he’s not like your boyfriend or anything.” you friends sarcastically say, pointing her broken nail towards you. Making you roll your eyes, months of being teased have numb you from their remarks.

The thing about Vernon is, you could never figure him out. He doesn’t talk much with other people, sometimes even with you. But when he does, it’s like a joy ride down the happy abyss that is Vernon’s mind.

Your phone rings with Vernon’s name flashes on the screen. You read the room, knowing what happens next is not gonna end well. You stand up and leave you bestfriends dorm room.

You smile at the screen and pick up the call. “Hey, what’s up?”

You can hear his car stopping through the phone then the familiar sound of handbrake being pulled up. “Are you still at Wonwoo’s girlfriend?” he ask softly with voice so deep you thought you’re drowning.

“Yep, still here. Why you ask?” you ask despite fully knowing he wants to see you and is probably out front already.

He pauses for a bit, you can hear him opening a packet of snack. “I'm at the parking lot. Wanna grab something to eat and hang at my place?”

Classic Vernon date night combo. Not that you mind, you’d take all the time he’s willing to give you. It’s like he’s got you under some spell.

A smile breaks on your face, forgetting the fact you just agreed to get your nails down with you friends.

When you step back inside the room, you friends throwing you a knowing annoyed look. The one that used to bother you, but not anymore. “Sorry, I’ll have to raincheck on the nail. Vernon’s out front.” you gather your stuff, avoiding any of their gaze.

“You should leave his ass.” you hear your friends high-fiving, agreeing with each other. Ganging up on you.

“He loves me guys, he’s just scared. It takes time to heal.” you sigh, stuffing all you belongings into your suffocated tote bag. Maybe you should’ve let Vernon bought you that pretty—and super expensive—bag. If you ask, he’d probably drive you to the store right now. He never really say no to you, except for the rare times you asked him to make the relationship official.

You’ve known Vernon since freshmen year, you saw how he broke down when his ex left him for an accountant that she met at the starbucks down the street of your campus.

How he slowly pull himself back up and eventually got tangled with you in this mushy mess. So, you know better than to pester him for a stupid label. You know he likes you, loves you even. He just wont say it out loud. But through his actions, you hear him loud and clear.

After escaping your friends rage, you skip down the parking lot and beeline for his car. “Oooh, you smell good.” you greet him with a quick peck on his cheek.

“Thanks, just showered at the gym. I know you don’t like to hug me when I’m all sweaty.” he ruffles your hair making you gasp. Hands flying up a second after to smooth the mess he just created. “Did you know, tea tree oil body wash is good for bacne? I don’t.” he laughs.

You smile, so wide your vision blurred. Guess tonight you’re having happy abyss Vernon. Your favorite Vernon.

“Duh, that’s why I keep buying them. Who told you?” you hide your smiling face as you fasten the seatbelt.

“My sister. You know what, let’s get some, I wanna get some for you to use when you’re staying over.” He nonchalantly say not knowing the damage those words just did to your mushy heart.

With excitement filling up your whole body, you lean back to his side and plant kisses on his cheek. You need an outlet for all this butterflies.

“Yeay! Let’s go!” you practically shout as he drive his car out of the parking lot.

•••

When you finally reach Vernon’s apartment, you are beat. Shopping with Vernon is never a 15-minute thing. Everything catches his attention.

“I don’t think I'm going home tonight. My legs are screaming.” you plop down on his bed, staring at the ceiling you’re seeing a few times a week.

“Then stay, I’ll drive you home before class starts tomorrow.”

Duh, of course he has to drive you tomorrow, how else are you gonna get to your place since Vernon lives off-campus in his fancy one bedroom. Well, there’s always uber, but why bother when this pretty man offers you a ride every time.

When you're out of the shower smelling like musk and tea tree oil—if that even make sense, you make your way to his closet. Passing him who’s sitting on the edge of his bed trying to solve a rubik’s cube.

Your eyes immediately dart to the big shopping bag with tissue paper peeking everywhere. “Is that—” you paused, reaching for the bag. “Vernon, come here a sec.” you call for him.

He doesn’t even look at you, his eyes are focused on the stupid cube he’s holding.

“What is this?” you hold the shopping bad to his chest, making him looking at you for a few seconds before focusing back to the damned cube.

“Oh, it’s the bag you wanted but told me not to get.” his tone is very unbothered, as if dropping a slump of cash on a purse for someone you keep calling ‘friend’ is normal.

You roll your eyes, “Exactly, then why did you get it?” you drop the bag and fold your hands in front of you.

“Cause you need a bag, that poor thing had its time. What’s up with you?” his eyes finally left the cube for it to land on your furious one.

You walk out of the closet and sit on his bed. Slightly cursing yourself for not snatching a hoodie from his closet. Now you have to have the talk again with Vernon, only this time you wearing a freaking bath robe.

“Why are you making this difficult? You needed a bag and I wanna get you a bag.” he asks with a voice so deep you had to shake your head in order to fight back the mushy feeling.

“You don’t just give your friend a bag that costs a few grand, Vernon.” Vernon sighs, closing his eyes when he finally connected the dots to where this conversation is going.

You then stand up, taking his face with both of your hands to pull him into a kiss. It’s silent as you and Vernon trade mouths. But through his lips, you can hear everything. Loud and clear.

Pulling away, you keep your forehead glued to his. “Why won’t you trust me?” you breathe. Making him close his eyes. “You know I’ll stay. You keep saying ‘all the stakes are high’ but you know damn well I’ll get myself a wings.”

You can feel his breath slowing down with every move your fingers make on his jaw. Knowing him like the back of you hand to easily calm him down.

He doesn’t say anything when his eyes starts to open. “I know you love me Vernon, I do. If it’s me changing my mind out of the blue and left you that you’re so afraid of, I’ll show you. I’ll show you how I’ll stay through it all. I’ll wait for heaven to break this spell you’re under. I promised you.

Minutes passed, he doesn’t say anything. His lips pursed together, holding his words at bay. The words you’re so desperately want to hear.

But Vernon stay silent. For a long time.

After what feels like forever, his hands cup you jaw. Bringing you lips together, giving you no answer. Just keep dragging you down under the spell you wish to break.

“Please don’t ever change,” he breathes between kisses. Eyes red from holding back tears.

“I won’t,” you keep chanting, hoping it’ll be engraved to his brain.

“I don’t wanna lose you. Don’t leave me.” it pains you to hear the words spilling from his mouth.

You bury you head on his chest as he pulls you to the bed. He cradles you like a baby in his arms. Soothing hands running down you back. Pulling you deeper into the realm of unconsciousness.

You wake up the next morning with throbbing headache from all the crying you did last night. Vernon is nowhere to be found.

You get ready, slipping into his hoodie—that you for sure will keep. “I got you coffee,” Vernon burst into the room, startling you. His gummy smile plastered on his face.

“Thanks,” you give him a small smile, taking the coffee.

Vernon acts like nothing happened last night. Casually kissing the top of you head before pulling you out for breakfast—if cereal and hot pocket counts.

The drive to your place is very calm. With Vernon humming to the music cheerfully. As if nothing ever happened last night.

When he drops you off, he pulls you in for a kiss. Then he pulls away with a smile. Though you’re very tired with this endless cycle, you can’t help but to give him a smile back.

You throw yourself on the bed, sighing so loud you afraid yourr\ grumpy neighbor would stomp your door anytime soon.

Without even realizing it, tears started falling out. Leaving darken stain on your bedsheets.

You close your eyes. Praying.

Praying? You never pray. But with this throbbing pain in your chest, you’ll take all the help you can get to get Vernon out of the spell. Or better yet, taking you out of the fucking spell.

•••

more of my stuff on my masterlist🤍 & twitter🌞

special tags; @aedreamzy @eleven23

my taglist are open<3

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

—————————

Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands. 

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes. 

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...” 

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys. 

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

 “You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino