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glitxhwayventeen · 2 years ago

Text

The Taken One

Kun

Characters: Kun x female reader

Warnings: mentions of childhood abuse, hints at past sexual assault by a family member, mentions of cheating, mentions of hunger and food, mentions of women not being allowed to do much because the governments shit, mentions of war, mentions of running away, mentions of an animal attack on a human (though not super graphic), mentions of passive suicidal ideations, mentions of parental death, dark humor about it tbh, sort of cheating but also not?, I think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

Author’s Note: This pairs with Joshua’s The Taken One as well, with Joshua’s first part going first then Kun’s. Then the same goes for part two. Prepare to be sad. She’s a long one folks.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Watch It All Burn Masterlist

The Taken One: Part 2

Joshua’s The Taken One: Part 1, Part 2, & Part 3

Mostly 🥀

Bold= Korean Dialogue Italics= Thoughts Pink= Cantonese Red=Mandarin Green=English

Tag List-

You had known Kun a long time. Everyone said you were the power couple. The ‘it’ couple. The couple that couldn’t be broken no matter what obstacles tried to throw themselves in your way. Who could’ve known that they could all have been so wrong?

You first met him when you were in school. Well, when you were sort of in school. You had known of him for most of your life since he was all anyone at your school had ever wanted to talk about. But he wasn’t in your grade. You were one grade below him and, even though you took advanced classes for your age, your paths never really crossed until one faithful day when he caught you walking through the woods with your backpack on.

Normally, Kun wouldn’t have thought twice about seeing a girl walking around with her backpack on her back out of the corner of his eye while he was playing a ball game in his schoolyard with some of his friends.

But because of the growing war tensions, many laws had recently changed. One of such laws made it to where women weren’t allowed to learn in a public setting anymore. Nothing specifically said they couldn’t learn, but the new conservative policies definitely put severe and direct restrictions over what women could and couldn’t do.

When Kun saw a small girl struggling to carry her school bag after the law was put in place, his first instinct wasn’t to run and tell a teacher that there was a girl breaking policy, it was to run and hide the girl out of sight so she wouldn’t get caught.

He and his family thought the law was stupid and should’ve never been implemented. He grew up with a sympathetic father who was saddened by the struggles of others and a strong willed ‘do it yourself’ mother who didn’t like when bad things happened to others. In turn, they taught their son to always protect and care for others even if his own life could’ve been put at risk, just as they themselves would.

So he knew immediately that he had to help her. He quickly dismissed himself from his game on the premise of having a leg cramp and bolted to the edge of the woods as soon as no one was looking.

He ran for what seemed like forever until he stumbled upon a very sad, very distressed smaller girl: you.

You were quietly sobbing into your hands while you sat on a tree stump with a bag stuffed so full of stuff, he was worried it would burst with any sudden movement from you.

“H-Hello, are-are you okay?” Kun practically whispered, trying to keep his tone down not just to not worry you but also so he wouldn’t raise any nearby alarms about a girl so close to school grounds.

You immediately darted up from your sitting position with wide eyes, allowing him to see the cuts and bruises on your face, and ducked behind the back of the stump, knowing full well that being caught would mean certain death for you.

Though you weren’t sure if at 12 years old you even cared at that point about whether you lived or died, you did know you didn’t want to die as vicious a means to an end as death by firing squad. You had already been through and gone through so much unnecessary and painful abuse and trauma. You weren’t sure if you could handle such a violent death too.

“It’s- It’s okay. I won’t hurt you or turn you in.” The boy promised, causing you to peak up from your hiding place just enough to see if you could tell if he was being honest or not.

You were met with a handsome boy in a slightly crouched, less menacing position. But based on his height and demeanor you figured he was probably a year or two older than you. You thought you vaguely recognized him but you couldn’t place a name to his face.

You did note, however, that his deep dimples and starry eyes held nothing but earnesty and compassion in them, “I don’t know if you know me or not, but my name’s Kun. Qian Kun.”

Oh. You definitely knew his name alright. Everybody knew him. He was a goody goody teacher's pet that did whatever he could to get ahead to some. To others, he was just a kind and thoughtful misunderstood boy who’d do anything for anyone and not ask for anything in return. But how could you know which version you’d heard about him was the truth?

Kun understood your hesitation and reluctance. Not only did he not recognize you, meaning you had most likely never met, but you probably didn’t know what to think of him.

He knew the stories surrounding him and you were probably trying to decipher which were true and which weren’t. Because being wrong could’ve meant being executed for you.

He could practically see you shaking with fear. It made his heart twist in his chest uncomfortably. He’d never felt such… sorrow for someone else before. You were trembling in fear and looked like you lost to someone in a fighting match even though you were so young. It didn’t seem fair to him that you were put in the position you were in, whatever that position was.

But because it was only a matter of time before someone noticed he was missing himself, he decided to play his odds and be direct with you, “Look, i know you must be scared. But why would I have told you my name if I was gonna turn you in? Even if you believe everything people say about me, you must know that even the informers can get in trouble sometimes too.”

You couldn’t deny that he had a point. Some people would go out of their way to find citizens who were breaking the law to turn them in for the reward money.

But you always thought it was stupid of them. Everyone had heard the countless stories of all parties involved going missing or being murdered simply because they stood next to someone who broke a law or because the government wanted to keep the whole thing quiet so they could pretend everything was just peachy throughout your country. But how could you be sure the boy was actually there to help you?

There were just as many cases of the informer being awarded money or much needed ration cards for turning people in after tricking them into thinking they would help harbor them. He could’ve easily just been trying to gain your trust so he could do the same, you didn’t know. So you opted to stay silent.

“I’m just trying to help you. I swear! You shouldn’t be around here. They’re patrolling more and more. You need to get out of here!” He pleaded quietly with you, but you couldn’t help but still worried.

You were always taught men were bad. You were shown that men were bad. That’s why you were out in the first place. And even if you did believe the boy, you didn’t have anywhere else to go.

You didn’t want to go back home. You wouldn’t go back home. You couldn’t go back home. After this last time, you promised yourself you’d break free and that’s exactly what you did. You threw your most important and necessary items in your old school bag and ran for it. You figured you could run away to a new country. Somewhere where people wouldn’t hurt you for sport. Somewhere where women and children had a say and were protected. Somewhere better.

Kun had just caught you in the middle of some much needed rest from your night of running and crying. Now, you faced each other as he tried to convince you trust him.

But before either of you could make any move at all, you both heard tire tracks hitting the dirt road not too far from where you were. And they were getting closer. Much closer.

Out of desperation, Kun ran and jumped over the tree stump. He crouched over you so his chest hit your back (which was of course covered by your backpack), wrapped his arms around you and threw you both into a rather large bush with him landing on the ground first before you could try anything that would’ve no doubt gotten you both killed.

Once you were both settled in the bush, you were practically in his lap with how you landed, he trapped his hand over your mouth and whispered for you to be quiet.

Almost as if on cue, you heard a car stop not too far from the bush you found yourself in and listened as soldiers got out. Though you could hear a group of them talking in mandarin. But, as you weren’t as fluent in mandarin as you were in your mother tongue of cantonese, you didn’t really understand what they were saying.

The voices were using a very formal way of speaking and a much more developed vocabulary than you had learned. Mandarin itself was already very hard for you as the language was very differently set up than your own. But you had only just begun taking lessons in it a year ago, when it had been mandated by the state that every Chinese citizen be required to speak it in public at all times in yet another new law.

Since you stopped going to school so early on in your teachings, your progress in the language all but stopped. So you hadn’t become proficient enough in it to be confident you understood what even fellow young students said, let alone what a bunch of adult soldiers said.

But as his arm tightened around you and his legs moved to cover your balled up body, part of you knew he could and realized he was doing his best to shield you from whatever could’ve been coming by using his body as some sort of a chrysalis around you. The move probably would’ve made your heart beat a little faster had it not already been pumping like crazy from terror.

Neither of moved. You were both hardly even breathing. As you heard the footsteps and their shoe crunching getting closer and closer, you were worried you’d freak out just from the sheer horrifying thought of the soldiers catching you and you didn’t want to risk potentially exposing the both of you when you could’ve still had a chance to get away.

So you decided to find something, anything, to focus on that wasn’t them. You landed on Kun’s rapid heart beating behind you, something you could still somehow hear despite your bag creating what almost certainly was at minimum six inches between your back and his chest.

Even though the both of you were the most scared you had ever been in your young lives, for some reason being in the situation with him made you feel less worried. Hearing his heartbeat so close to your own gave you a sense of comfort and security you had never had before that moment.

Sure you were downright terrified that the soldiers were gonna come and shoot you both. But for some weird reason, some part of you thought you wouldn’t have minded if the both of you met your end there so long as you had each other.

It was quite a while before the shoe crunching and footsteps went away. It seemed like hours till you heard their car turn back on and drive off. At least, that’s what it felt like. But once the elder of you deemed it save, he slowly uncoiled himself from around you and checked to see if the coast was clear. Once he realized it was, he fully got out of it and then turned his attention to helping you get back out as well.

Which itself proved a challenge as the near brush with danger left young you feeling as though your legs were jello and made your body feel faint. After a try or two he managed to sit you back down on the stump you had previously used to hide from him with so you could try and calm down.

While you were trying to steady your breathing again, he finally was able to get a real look at you. Sure he caught a small glimpse in the .03 seconds he had before you went straight to panicking at the site of him, but it didn’t give him enough time to realize you were actually kinda… cute.

Your long jet black hair now had little twigs and even a small leaf in it, your what he could tell were naturally large amber colored eyes were now widened even further from the shock of the military men trying to catch you, and the scarlet lips he had previously held behind his palm to keep you from giving away your location were now protruded into a child like pout.

He realized you probably weren’t much younger than him, or at least would probably be considered taller than most girls your age based on the fact that you weren’t really super short.

But something he definitely couldn’t help but notice was that you smelt amazing, like fresh linens with a hint of daisies, even though the both of you had literally spent the past hour hiding to save your lives. He figured his 13 year old self must’ve smelt nowhere near as good as you from the sweat that had formed due to the stress of him trying to keep you both alive.

“H-hello…?” You gently spoke to gain his attention in the sweetest little voice he had ever heard in his life.

Once he realized that you must’ve been trying to get his attention and that he had more than likely zoned out while staring at you, he jumped out of his trance, “uh- um sorry. W-What did you say?”

“I said: you should probably go. They’ll… probably come back and uh… I’m sure you don’t want to be here when they do.” You suggested, refusing to look him in the eye and instead determined to keep your eyes on your now cut up legs.

They were pretty banged up from the long walking and the suddenness of being thrown into hiding. And that’s not all. You had small cuts and bruises everywhere, you tights were snagged, the arm of your dress shirt was ripped, and you could’ve sworn you had some sort of new rather large cut on your forehead based on the dripping stinging feeling you were feeling.

Though, you weren’t trying to seem ungrateful for him saving you. Far from it, you were trying to thank him for saving your life by saving his life.

They’d probably come back again since they were cracking down on people even harder now. You didn’t want him around again for that since he still had a chance.

And the more you though about it, the more you realized you definitely couldn’t go home and really only had two options: let the soldiers find you and hopefully give you a quick death with a bunch of guns or starve to death slowly on the streets. You opted for the first of the two so you’d have less of a chance of suffering.

Kun moved around uncomfortably in his spot, “Oh… right. Yeah they’ll- they’ll probably be back soon. We should go.” He agreed, putting his hand out to help you off the stump like the gentlemen he was raised to be.

But instead of grabbing it to get up, you kindly pushed it down and shook your head, “No,” You simply stated, “You… You should go. I’m staying here.”

“What do you mean you’re staying here? You know what just happened. It’s not safe! We need to go!” He insisted in a haste, trying to pull you up from the stump using the closest arm of yours he could grab.

But you refused to leave your spot and grabbed onto the top of the tree stump with your free arm, so his efforts were much to no avail.

“Stop it,” you hissed through thickly accented mandarin, “I-I can’t go anywhere.”

“And why on earth not?” Kun questioned, still using as much strength as his tired body would let him in his current state to get you up out of your seat.

“Because- I… I have no where else to go okay?” You tried to pull your arm from his grasp but you soon realized he was too strong, so you instead settled for giving him the evil eye.

With your new statement though, he dropped your arm in shock anyways, “W-What do you mean you have nowhere else to go…?” He asked softly, now with saddened eyes.

He didn’t know you, but something about him already had him having a small crush on you. Which was stupid considering neither of you were really in a position to be making google eyes at each other, but he figured it was his teenage hormones. Either way, that same part of him didn’t like the way you said what you said and gave him a bad feeling in his gut.

“I… I won’t go home,” You spoke slowly as you tried to think of the correct words to say in mandarin, “It’s… not safe there.” You answered, once again refusing to look the strange boy in the eyes, “And since I’d just… go hungry living on the street, I’d… rather go down by the- oh what’s the word? The firing squad.”

Kun didn’t understand. Why were those what you saw as your only two options? Why did you choose those as your two options? Why would you choose to die? Didn’t you realize your parents were probably scared out of their minds looking for you?

“Why the firing squad?” He asked.

He was honestly just trying to scare you into backing down and going back home. He didn’t think you had thought out what you were saying properly and that bringing the idea back up may shock you into rethinking your whole statement. He didn’t think you thought any of of what you said through.

“At least it’s quick.”

Kun was in absolute disbelief. And if he hadn’t been in disbelief from your actual words, the look of pure acceptance on your face was enough to leave him completely dumbfounded.

Because he realized you had actually really thought it through. But what could’ve been so awful at your home that made you want to commit second hand suicide than to return? What in the world could’ve made you think that that was a better alternative than living at home with your parents.

“You’d prefer to be shot than to just go back home to your loving parents?” He asked a question, again just more trying to scare you than anything.

You nodded and answered in a tiny, “Yes.”

Kun was borderline in tears at that point. How could you in all your childishness think dying was better than going home to your family? He could never leave his parents. He loved them. And he knew they loved him. So how could you just get up and leave people who loved you so much?

“But… Why?” He quizzed quietly.

“Because my father he… he loves me too much…” you quivered barely above a whisper.

Part of you wasn’t even sure if the older boy heard what you said. Part of you hoped that he hadn’t so you didn’t have to live through the shame of telling your story out loud. But it just… slipped out.

He wasn’t sure what you meant by your statement at the time. He wasn’t even sure why you were crying as you said it or why you brought your legs up to your chest and began rocking back and forth. But it gave him an ominous feeling he had never quite felt before.

He didn’t know who you were, and he still wasn’t really sure of why you didn’t want to go home. But if you didn’t want to go to your home, surely he couldn’t just leave you out in the open to be found by soldiers by yourself.

So the older boy thought for a moment as he watched you, trying to decide what to do.

But in the end, he could only think of one option, “Well if you won’t go back to your home, why don’t you come back to mine?”

You quickly stopped your mini breakdown at the boys suggestion, wiped your tears, and sniffled to clear your throat, “W-what?”

“If you won’t go back to your home, why don’t you come back to mine? At least for the night. That way you’ll at least get some food and a warm bed to think on it for a little while.”

And that was how you found yourself at Kun’s house sitting in his room while him and his parents spoke in the living room without him having even known your name or where you came from.

——

You honestly only agreed to go with him because you figured best case scenario: you’d get a warm meal and bed for the night, Worst case scenario: they’d tell you to leave immediately at their son’s crazy idea. At that point you really had nothing to lose. It wasn’t like Kun was gonna take no for an answer and chances were that his parents would just throw you out and you’d be on your own anyways. What was the harm?

But to your ultimate shock though, even though they were fairly hesitant at first, after their little family talk they let you stay with them. Kun’s mom made dinner and you were able to have some like he said you’d be able to.

Had you’ve actually eaten that week, you’d have been slower eating and been more careful with your manners like you’d been taught. But the smell of an actual home cooked meal coupled with the grumbling knife feeling in your belly practically made you a wild animal at their dinner table.

You were sure after that little stunt they’d have kicked you out because of your unintended disrespect. But they didn’t.

They let you stay the night in Kun’s room and he instead took the couch in the living room. It was strange, having an actual bed to sleep in. It was soft and cloud like. The blankets were warm and inviting. And the pillow they gave you was calling your name. It made it easy to fall asleep.

But then you woke up screaming from another one of your nightmares. You’d had nightmares nearly every night of your short life back then, that night was no exception. And that’s when you were positive your luck had ran out and you’d be back on the streets in an hour.

Though instead of being angry at you for disturbing their sleep, the Qians were nothing but concerned for you. Kun’s mom even cradled you and sang old Hokkien songs from her childhood to get you to go back to sleep.

When morning came, you fully prepared yourself for them to throw you out as soon as daylight hit. You got all of your things repacked in your bag and got dressed for the long journey ahead of you before the Qian’s had even woken up themselves. You ended up falling back asleep waiting for them to come and tell you to leave.

But they never did. In fact, you didn’t wake up from the exhausting night before until Kun had already been in school for three hours and Mr. Qian had already gone to work.

Ms. Qian said that they figured it was best to just let you stay asleep after the day you’d had and she made you some eggs. She asked you a lot of questions about you and your life. She didn’t push you to answer them, but she was too welcoming a person to ever deny her answers. So you told her the truth. The whole truth, which was something you hadn’t ever done before with anyone.

When you were done you were a bawling whining mess and told her you’d understand if they wanted you gone as soon as possible. You told her you wouldn’t blame them in the slightest if she decided to throw you and your things to the curb the very next second.

But instead, she pulled you in for the most loving hug you’d ever had, possibly the only real hug you even remembered at the time, and told you you were welcome to stay for as long as you’d liked.

It wasn’t something that was uncommon. During the war, no one really cared about kids so they could do basically whatever they wanted as long as they didn’t break any laws. Millions went missing. Thousands got jobs or left schools. Hundreds moved to new families. Somehow, you happened to be all three.

Your father reported you missing of course because he was a twisted controlling man, but since the cops didn’t care about even their own kids, they didn’t care about his. You had to leave school because the government said the only role women had during the war was to bare children, to become housewives, or to prepare for their future duty to do both. And you became part of the Qian family.

And it was a good family. Mr. And Mrs. Qian loved each other just as much as they doted and loved their son. Their happy family environment took you a long time to get used to since you’d never had one like it before. But once you did, you were glad you got to witness it. Eventually when you were comfortable enough just seeing them be the sweet family they were, they also had you really become a apart of it.

They began treating you like the daughter they never had but always secretly wanted.

Mr. Qian was quiet and reserved but always had some stupid dad joke ready that seemed to make all the worried of the day all better and helped to tutor you for the subjects you’d missed in school so that you’d be able to continue whenever the war was over and the stupid law was reversed.

Mrs. Qian showed you how to cook, play musical instruments, and taught you all about herbal Chinese medicine and supposed potions to pass the time. They acted like you had been born into the family, something you’d never expected because they already had their own son. But they always told you that their son saw you as his family, and being his family meant you were their family.

Whenever you asked Kun what they’d meant by that or why he considered you his family when you were going through his homework for the day, he just shrugged and told you it was just a feeling he had. And for some reason that answer made you feel incredibly loved and cared for, you weren’t sure why either.

——

About a year into your staying with them, you and the Qian’s went to the park to get some fresh air, something that was only permitted on weekends by the new government as during the week it could’ve been considered a distraction. It was rare that Mr. Qian could get time off work for family time, so everyone was pretty excited.

You and Kun decided to go down by the Min River just off the park to skip rocks, something he was shocked to hear you’d never done before. He had only just finished helping you glide a small stone through the water successfully when you started hearing noises from behind a tree.

At first, you thought nothing of it. But then you notice that Kun was standing straighter and more rigid than usual. Even then, you didn’t think much of it. You figured maybe he was starting to get tired or maybe he had something on his mind.

It wasn’t until the hairs on his arms began to stand up and a growl like sound emitted past his chest that you really noticed something serious was going on with him.

Just as you were going to ask him what was wrong with him, you heard a voice you had prayed to a higher power you didn’t even believe in that you’d never have to hear again.

“So this is what you’ve been doing all this time my little ________?”

Immediately you turned on your heels, hoping the voice you heard hadn’t actually materialized into existence behind you.

But it did. He did. And once your fears were confirmed with your very eyes, you thought you’d pass out from the sheer anxiety and terror that suddenly started to radiate through your body.

“F-father I-” You couldn’t help but stutter in your native language out of habit, you didn’t seem to have control over your words, or your legs based on the buckling state of your knees for that matter.

“You ran away from home-” your father seethed as he started coming closer to you.

Which was something that had you attempting to walk backwards to gain some distance. But the previously peaceful scenery around you betrayed you once your feet soon stumbled upon the river’s dirt edge. You had no where to go.

“You worried your mother and I sick-” the closer he got to you, the more you’d wished you’d never had gone with Kun that day.

You wished you could’ve taken back the whole year of happiness and love because now you had to deal with a year of your father’s repressed rage and abuse. You suddenly wished you’d never ran away and that you just stayed back in your old home. You wanted to die everyday your father came near you, but at least you knew what you could expect of his treatment of you.

“Made us file a police report-” His everyday fury was enough to cripple the strongest man.

You didn’t want to even think of what he’d do to do now that he’d found you. Would he force you home? Would he hit you in public? Would he just kill you already and get it over with? Part of you already knew he’d never let you go, but part of you also hoped he’d just put you out of your misery before it started.

“All to be goofing off with some boy? Are you kidding me ________?! What’s our rule about men huh?! Huh!?” You debated whether or not jumping into the seemingly never ending river to end it all would be an option.

You knew he could swim and you couldn’t. And you also knew your father was definitely the type of man that would save you only so he could continue to torture you for the rest of your life. So it seemed like a pointless move. You’d never be free of him. He’d never let you go.

As he got within a five foot radius of you, you looked around for Kun so you could at least get one last glance of the boy that had given you the best year of your life, so you could say goodbye to the boy who had kindly taken you in when you had no where to go. You wanted to catch a glimpse of him for the last time to let your eyes express to him the words you had never gotten to say to him: i love you.

But you soon realized he was nowhere to be found. As much as you wanted to whine out loud at the thought of not getting a chance to see him before your fate was sealed, you knew it was for the best. You didn’t want him to see what would happen to you, whatever it was.

You gulped once you could perfectly see your father’s nostrils flaring, “I- I-” you tried to answer in the hopes of lessening the anger he felt towards you, but your words and voice still failed you.

You hoped Kun got to his parents. That he ran to them as soon as he realized it was your father who had interrupted your private moment together.

“Well ________?!?” Your father exploded, getting so close to your face you could feel his breath hit your face, the scent of vodka filling your nostrils as he tried to intimidate an answer out of you like he had done so many times before.

You hoped the Qian’s left already. You hoped they were gone and that they stayed gone. You hoped they’d forgotten about you the second Kun got to them to save themselves and that they realized trying to help you anymore than they already had was futile.

Your father would no doubt try to find the family that sheltered and cared for you. He’d make them regret ever crossing paths with you like he’d done to anyone else in the past that tried to show you even an announce of kindness. If they left, they’d at least get a head start. They’d at least have a chance to save themselves.

Tilting your head down to look at your feet, you tried one last time to give him acknowledgement, “T-They-” Your voice started to fail you once more, causing more anger to erupt from your father’s throat.

You wished you could have thanked the Qian’s. You wished you could have told them how grateful you were for their kindness and generosity towards you. You wished you could have thanked them for treating you like you were their own flesh and blood when you were just some strange girl Kun had picked up from school. You wished you could have told them that their help in your time of need meant everything to you and that you wished you could have repaid them somehow.

You wished you could’ve had one last day with them to memorize the warm feeling that hit you the second you’d walked through their front door to keep the cold abyss that would soon be your prison once more from getting to you.

You wished you could’ve sat down with the respectful Mr. Qian once more before you’d be stuck with your pig of a father for the rest of your life. You wished you could’ve cooked with the joyful Mrs. Qian as you chatted about your day one last time before you got stuck with your silent and resentful mother. You wished you could’ve sat at the dining room table while a happy Kun tried to explain his homework to you for the hundredth with his beautiful dimples flashing at you as he smiled before you lost the ability to see his smile forever.

“Look at me when you’re speaking! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your manners ________!!” Your father shouted in your face, quickly bringing his hand to grab you by the jaw to force you to look at him. It wasn’t until his rough hand squeezed your face that you realized the tears you had been holding back were now sliding down your cheeks.

But mostly, you wished you would’ve had the courage to tell Kun you loved him. Even if someone as kind and caring as him could’ve and should’ve never loved someone like you back, you wished you could’ve told him how much he meant to you before you never saw the light of day again.

Waking up to him and his lovely family everyday made you have hope that the world wasn’t such a bad place afterall. In that moment, all the hope you had left was praying he’d be able to quickly forget you and realize what he’d meant to you.

“I’m-” Just as you attempted to apologize in the hopes of softening the blow you knew was no doubt going to be making contact with your face soon, you heard a loud deep growl of what you could only assume was a wolf animal come from the trees.

Your father moved his attention to the sound as well, signaling that he too had heard it and was wondering what was going on. But instead of seeing a bear or some other creature, you saw Kun standing by the trees while tightening his fists so hard you could’ve sworn he would’ve broken his fingers.

“Let go of her. Now.” He sneered with a stone cold face, pushing himself out of the tree line and out into the daylight to be better seen.

You weren’t sure what but something seemed… different about him. Sure he had changed quite a bit since you had first met him, but you chalked that up to puberty. This however, was new. Something you hadn’t experienced before yet. Something strange.

Your father let out a dry chuckle, “Oh if i were you boy i would be running as far away as possible because you’re next on my list.”

But despite your father’s warning and your eyes widening to tell him to run, Kun just kept his same emotionless face, “How about we just put me at the top of your list now so we can get it out of the way then old man?” He suggested, not even seeming worried over the fact that your father was a grown adult and he was just a young teenage boy a little over half his size.

Your father let his grip on your face go and you fell to the ground, apparently your legs had finally given up what little strength they had and could no longer keep themselves upright.

“Fine kid. It’s your funeral.” Your father shrugged, turning around in his place so he could start to walk over to your beloved savior and probably off him.

You couldn’t let that happen. Even though your voice failed you, you refused to let it give up on the first person who showed you even a hint of kindness, “K- Kun, don’t!” You cried out.

This only caused your father to swing back around and kick you straight in your rib cage, making you go from your kneeling position to fall straight on your side.

“That’s enough out of you!” He spit at you as you desperately gasped for the air your lungs lost.

But this time when your father tried to turn around, he wasn’t met with Kun. He was met with the biggest wolf you’d ever seen lunging straight at him.

In second your father was on the ground being ripped apart by the beast’s long sharp teeth and claws as he cried out in agony.

As much as you should’ve been scared of the wolf because it would’ve most likely have come for you next, you weren’t. You were much more concerned for your friend and started scanning your surroundings to make sure he knew to run. But he was no where to be seen.

You went from being concerned to confused as you were sure that just before you hit the ground you saw a very worried Kun watching you fall to the ground out of the corner of your eye. You wondered where he could’ve possibly gone in the small amount of time.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when you realized your father’s pained yelps and screams had ceased and you saw that the wolf was headed straight for you. You couldn’t move your legs still, your arms couldn’t even lift you from the ground if you tried, and you were still struggling to catch your breath. You had no hope of getting out of the situation you found yourself in. So instead of even trying to get away, you just laid there and let it zero in on you.

Except when you closed your eyes so you didn’t have to actually see the wolf charge at you and began mentally preparing yourself for the attack, you soon realized it never came.

When you opened your eyes you could see the wolf clear as day with its muzzle in front of your face. But instead of the ferociousness you caught a glimpse of on its face just as it jumped on your father, you were met with a sweet almost puppy like face that began licking your face.

It quickly stopped licking you once it realized your eyes opened and that’s when you noticed it’s own big yellow ones staring at you.

You should’ve been afraid. You should’ve ran away screaming. You should’ve at very least been trying to push it away from you. But you weren’t. You actually felt… relieved that the giant animal was in front of you.

Which was again something that confused you, but it wasn’t until it laid down in front of you and emitted a small whine from its body that it clicked in your brain. It made sense why you weren’t afraid. There was no reason for you to run away screaming. You didn’t need to push the thing away from you.

You weren’t in any real danger. It didn’t want to see you get hurt. It was protecting you. It wanted to keep you safe. And now that it saw you were preparing for it to hurt you, it calmed down because it didn’t want you to be scared of it.

When you pushed yourself up on your forearms and watched the animals strange behavior, you felt a tugging flutter in your heart you’d only gotten from one other person before.

You didn’t understand what was happening. You didn’t understand why a wolf animal would suddenly come to a girl’s aid in the middle of the day where visitors wondered about frequently. Shouldn’t it be in the woods looking for food or something? More importantly, shouldn’t it want to hurt you for being foreign to it’s natural habitat?

Before you could personally seek any answers out yourself, someone came in and have them to you in a haste. And that someone was Mr. Qian.

“Kids!” He darted to you in a rush, eyes noticeably a similar color to the animal in front of you, “Kids are you ok-” Mr. Qian stopped dead in his tracks and sentence to take in the scene in front of him.

As he slowly got closer to you, both you and the wolf lifted your heads to turn in his direction completely.

Mr. Qian cleared his throat to regain some semblance of composure, “___, w-what happened here?”

That’s when you finally spoke up and explained what went on, at least, what events you knew for sure took place. You described to him the moments of you and Kun skipping stones, the fact that a man came out of no where to try to hurt you, and that Kun had disappeared.

“Okay that’s- that’s extremely worrying. First things first: The man,” Mr. Qian quizzed, seemingly trying to wrap his head around the situation at hand himself, “The man who tried to hurt you, where is he now?”

You pointed to the newly formed mangled corpse on the ground and told him it was your father and that the wolf came out of no where to protect you. You just weren’t sure why.

You also weren’t sure if he was truly just as shocked by the whole ordeal as you were or not. His facial expression showed nothing but concern, confusion, and worry. But his eyes gave off nothing but acceptance and compliance.

It wasn’t until he sighed heavily and bend down to the wolf’s level that you realized he probably wasn’t in awe of the whole scene for the same reason you were.

“Son, you’ve gotten us into quite the mess here you know that?” Mr. Qian shook his head with a slight airy laugh, something that caused the wolf to lay it’s head on the ground in a huff, “___, mama is back at the picnic blanket. I want you to go find her and tell her to bring me the supplies she always brings in cases of an emergency. Then i want you to stay at the blanket until we return, okay?” He tilted his head to look at you as he spoke as gently and as simply as he could to not scare you any further.

You vigorously shone your head after taking a moment to process his request, “N-No i can’t. What- what about Kun? We have to find him!” You insisted, unwilling to leave your dear friend behind.

Mr. Qian gave you a kind smile and nodded, “Don’t worry about my son. I’ll make sure he comes back with us i promise. But it’s not safe for you here and i know that he wouldn’t want you in any sort of danger because of him, alright?”

You were going to refuse again and push that you needed to help find him. But before you could protest again, the animal in front of you let out a small whine directed towards you that made your heart ache. And, though you still weren’t exactly sure why you felt the need to care about such a weird feeling, so you finally nodded in agreement and went to find Mrs. Qian to do as you were told.

——

It took a little while for them to get back to your meet up spot. You had already packed up the lunch you and Mrs. Qian prepared, folded the blanket that was brought to sit on into it’s large designated bag per your foster mother’s request, and began pacing in place before the small family came back.

Seeing Mr and Mrs Qian made you feel better, but seeing a very tired looking Kun nervously walking behind them put you at ease. You didn’t care that your father had came back and hurt you. You didn’t even care that your father was killed by the giant wolf thing. At that point, all you cared about was Kun’s safety.

So you ran to him the second he got close enough and wrapped your arms around his broad figure, “You’re okay!” You whimpered into his chest happily, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as Kun returned your embrace.

“Of course I’m okay ___. Are you?” He pulled you out of your hug and held either side of your face to no doubt check for bruises and injuries, his eyes being a very familiar but different color than you could’ve sworn they used to be.

But truthfully, even if you had any visible wounds, it didn’t matter to you. Those would heal. You were just mentally thanking every god that there ever was that he didn’t get caught in the cross fire of everything that happened.

You quickly nodded your head to confirm that you were, in fact, okay as you brought your own hand up to hold one of his that he had cupped around your face and squeezed it.

“Yes, yes. Everyone’s alright. But we really do need to be going. We can’t take any risks being out and about right now,” Mr. Qian smiled reassuringly.

“Wait!” You halted everyone from beginning the journey back to the house, “Don’t we need to talk about what happe-” You tried but you were quickly put at ease with Mrs. Qian putting her arm around your waist to usher you to follow them.

“Yes dear. We will. Just… not here. In fact, wait until we get back home to even think about it, okay? Let’s just be glad everyone’s okay, okay?” Her warm tone rhetorically questioned you, letting Kun and his father lead you to the car with a fair bit of distance between your two pairs.

——

Once you got back to the house, Mrs. Qian told you go up to Kun’s room to get cleaned up so she could refix the lunch you had all missed. You offered to help her as you usually did, but she insisted she had it covered and that you had been through enough for one day.

You did note that she didn’t have Kun go get changed the same way you had to. He stayed downstairs to speak with his parents.

As ashamed as you were to say, you did try to listen in to what they were saying as you had a feeling they were trying to get rid of you so they could speak to one another freely. But you recognized that they were speaking Hokkien, a language that, while you understood some due to living with the Qian’s for so long, you weren’t even conversational in. So it all sounded like a load of gibberish to you. At least you knew your hunch about them not wanting you to be around so they could speak was correct.

After you changed and made yourself presentable, you finally made your way back downstairs and found all three of them already sitting and mumbling to one another at the dining room table, no lunch in sight.

“___!” Mrs. Qian chirped to get the boys attention, causing them to cease their muffled talk and turn their attention to you.

Mr. Qian simply chuckled at you and made a silly comment about you taking a long time to get ready that you knew was just him teasing you, before he went to help his wife grab all the lunch supplies out of the fridge.

Kun on the other hand, immediately had his eyes locked on you and didn’t move an inch.

Not that it was an issue. It never bothered you when the elder boy gave you his undivided attention. You actually rather liked it when he did which, while not necessarily rare, definitely didnt happen every single day as he was generally too busy with school stuff and chores.

This time however, it was almost as if he refused to take his gaze away from you. Even when you pulled your chair out to sit down and cleared your throughly out of nervous habit, he didn’t budge. You weren’t even sure if he was blinking, not that you knew if he was or wasn’t.

You didnt dare to look at him back for more than half a second. Your teeny tiny crush on him plus your naturally introverted personality making such a task far too nerve wrecking for you.

Though even throughout eating lunch and you making small talk with his parents, you still felt his eyes on you. It wasn’t a creepy feeling you got when you noticed him staring. It was more of a… longing feeling maybe? You weren’t too sure if that was the right word you would place it as or not but it was the closest you could get to the right one.

Whatever it was, you just knew it made your stomach do cartwheels and made your cheeks feel as though they were on fire. Almost like your body was embarrassed that he was so openly observed you. In fact, him watching you so intensely had begun to make you a bit self conscious of how messy you could’ve looked eating.

Which was ridiculous. You had lived with the Qian’s for a year at that point. He had shown no sign of attraction to you that you recognized. As far as you knew, he just saw you as a little sister he never got growing up or as a close friend that just happened to live with him and his family. You, being the young girl you were, were just probably reading far too into what he was doing because you secretly wanted him to like you back.

He was probably just worried about you after everything that had happened throughout the day. He was probably just trying to look for any hint of discomfort or sadness by watching you closely. He was just being the good boy his parents raised him to be by looking out for his friend.

So you just had to slap away the butterflies in your belly, cool down the fire against your cheeks, and pretend everything was fine with you as you kept eating your food.

——

“Are we gonna talk about it now auntie?” You asked Mrs. Qian as you helped her clean the dishes from lunch.

Her eyes ever so slightly widened at your question and you saw a small panic wash over them, almost as if she had been hoping you’ve forgotten what happened earlier in the day.

She cleared her throat at turned to look at Kun, who was on her other side putting the dishes away in the cabinets after you washed and she dried them.

Kun was still acting weird. He wasn’t staring you down as he had been earlier, but he definitely wasn’t his usual self.

Normal Kun was always joking and laughing with his parents. The Kun you were dealing with was withdrawn and quiet. Normal Kun wouldn’t think twice about eating as much dessert as his parents would allow him to. The Kun before you barely even touched his lunch.

You would have understood if he had seen all you had at the park and was just in shock. But he didn’t see any of what you saw. He completely disappeared for that matter so you were really confused by his strange behavior.

He deeply sighed while running a shakey hand through his hair before nodding to his mother, who in turn turned to you with a smile, turning off the faucet in front of you and gesturing for you to sit at the table while she went and got Mr. Qian so you could all talk.

Truthfully, you weren’t even sure what there was to talk about because you had assumed they knew just as much about what happened as you did. But it just felt… odd to have witnessed your own father be killed by a wild animal and not discuss their ideas about what happened. Or at least acknowledge what you saw and potentially go to the authorities. You figured they left his body where it was, not that you cared too much about his final resting place after everything. You just didn’t want the Qian’s or yourself to get into trouble for not reporting it.

“Okay ___,” Mr. Qian puffed as he sat in the chair next to you and across from his wife, “What do you want to talk about?”

You tilted your head at the older man in confusion, “O-Oh. I- um- i dont know. It just… feels weird not to at least say something about it. It’s weird to like- i dont know- pretend it didn’t just happen,” you shrugged, biting the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from rambling anymore while waiting for one of the other three at the table to say something.

Mr. Qian nodded solemnly in understanding before letting out a long breath, “I see. Today’s been a very eventful day for everyone.”

Mrs. Qian smiles and shook her head in amusement at her husband’s obviousness but said nothing. Kun just stared straight at the center of the table, no emotion visible on his face.

“Well, Yeah. I- I mean giant dogs don’t just come out of nowhere and maul my dad to death after he also attempted to kill me everyday. So I’d say it’s been a pretty eventful day,” you tried to semi joke with a side smile, but instead of receiving a similar reaction from the others, you watched as Kun, who sat across from you at the square table, brought his head down almost shamefully to stare at his lap.

The confusion and hurt must’ve been written on your face at the idea of potentially having upset the older boy as Mrs. Qian grabbed and squeezed your hand under the table to comfort you.

At your word choices, Mr. Qian thought it was best for everybody involved that he just lay it all out on the table to prevent you from accidentally saying anything more to upset his son, “___, about the giant dog-” He uncomfortably shifted in his chair, “It… well you see, it wasn’t exactly a dog.”

“It wasn’t?” You innocently asked, completely dumbfounded that the large animal you’d met earlier wasn’t actually a canine.

“No sweetheart,” Mrs. Qian answered for her husband, who was looking increasingly distressed by the second, “It was- well still is that is- a human.”

After Mrs. Qian’s statement, the entire table went completely silent as they all watched you nervously and waited for your reaction. But really, you didn’t know how exactly to react.

The thing that stopped your father earlier surely looked like a dog to you. A very very large, very very bizarre dog, but a dog nonetheless. Granted you had never been allowed to own one before, but you still knew what they looked like. You weren’t an idiot. It was furry and it had four legs and a muzzle. How could it have been human?

“But Mr. Qian, you saw it. It was walking on all four legs and it had fluffy fur. Humans don’t do that and they don’t have fur they have hair!” You reasoned out loud, trying to get the room full of older people to see sanity.

And why wouldn’t you have? You didn’t know what they knew. You hadn’t seen what they had seen. You had no way of knowing that, while they knew you were telling the truth, they were telling you the truth too.

Mr. Qian broke out of his anxiety ridden state once he realized you would probably only listen to him on the matter. You trusted Mrs. Qian and Kun, but as far as you knew, he was the only other one at the table that had even seen the big dog, “Yes ________, you’re right. Humans don’t have fur. But what you saw, who you saw, wasn’t exactly human either,” he clarified, “It was, well, he is a werewolf.”

You were crazy, that’s what you decided. You were all crazy. You’d lost it at seeing the traumatic events you’d seen.

“…what…?” You spine just above a whisper, not even sure they had heard you.

But you weren’t aware that two out of the three people at the table would’ve definitely heard you yet.

“The animal that saved you,” Mrs. Qian reaffirmed her husband’s statement, “Wasn’t an animal. Not really. It was a werewolf. A human who can turn into a wolf.”

You were sure they could see the disbelief on your face, or at least they could see if in your eyes, “But werewolves, guys- werewolves don’t exist. That’s make believe stuff.”

Everyone had their own set of beliefs and morals, you knew that. But they were speaking of fairytales and nonexistent creatures parents told to their children at night to scare them.

You heard Mr. Qian let out an exhausted sigh before you watched him stand up from his chair and gestured for you all to follow him into the living room.

He then said something to Mrs. Qian in Hokkien and she rushed around the room quickly to close all the blinds and curtains.

“Dad,” Kun finally spoke fearfully around you for the first time since you’d gotten back from the park, “Are you sure this is a good idea? Isn’t there any other way?”

The elder man let out a dry laugh to his son, “Xiaodan, she’s been here for a year now. I think we all know her well enough to know that the only way she’ll believe us is if she sees it.”

And just like that, you watched as Mr. Qian began to grow his nails into what you could only call claws. You could only stare in shock as his usual perfectly squared smiled transformed into elongated fangs and black fur began to emit itself from his skin. You listened as you heard what you could only assume was bones breaking and moving inside his body. You witnessed the usually rather average size, meek Mr. Qian turn into a creature similar looking to the one that protected you earlier in the day.

For a moment, you thought you were going to pass out and fall over from the flush of color suddenly draining from your face. But before your buckling knees could drop you to the ground, Kun caught you with ease and held you against his strong body to compensate for yohr weakened one.

——

“So you do like him then?” Mrs. Qian asked you as you helped her make dinner.

With a darkening blush on your face you squealed, “Aiya auntie! Don’t put words in my mouth!” You giggled continuing to finely dice the onion as you were told.

After they told you, more like showed you, that werewolves existed, it took you a while to swallow the new truth you had been given. Once the Qian’s deemed you had accepted the idea as reality, they began to tell you more about them.

Between the knowledge that Mr and Mrs Qian and Kun had collectively given you, you thought it was safe to say you were an expert. At least, as much of an expert as one who didn’t actually turn into a werewolf could be on werewolves.

You’d learned all about how werewolves are genetically produced and not created by bites like some movies suggested. You learned that the fact that they traveled and found their own packs was true, but that they didn’t actually have to have a full moon to shift. You learned about alphas, something that apparently Mr. Qian, and eventually Kun when he matured enough, were and that they were the leaders of said packs.

They told you about werewolf hunters and how they tried to kill as many werewolves as possible with silver, but that if they’re wounded by something not made of silver they can usually regenerate and heal themselves pretty quickly. They told you that, while they had potions or contacts to conceal their real eye color, getting highly emotional could easily burn through either and show their true colors.

And thanks to Mr. Qian’s meticulously ‘no filter’ way of teaching, during one of his lessons you learned about rut, which happens once a season for males, and heat, which happens one week every month for females. It was during the very same lesson that you learned about mates and imprinting.

Which were, in Mrs. Qian’s words, essentially soul mates werewolves got instantly by looking at someone fate decided they needed to stay with forever. Apparently every werewolf had one, some unlucky werewolves even imprinted on the same person. But each wolf only had one themselves unless something happened to their mate. Then fate would do another lottery guessing game and let them have another one.

Mr. Qian made mates seem so scientifically simple. Mrs. Qian always made it sound much more serious and heartfelt. She insisted that, while her husband was right for the most part, he neglected to emphasize just how strong the feelings could be and that nothing else in the world could ever compare. According to her, everyone and everything practically falls off the face of the earth to a werewolf once he or she meets this mate and no one else will ever matter romantically to them again.

While you enjoyed the sentiment, you also wished Mr. Qian’s calmer version was more true than Mrs. Qian’s Romeo and Juliet version. You were glad that werewolves got to have the same happily ever after that everyone deserved. You were just sad that you would never get yours.

Werewolves apparently instantly fall in love with their mate and imprint at first sight. If it doesn’t happen then, it won’t happen later. Meaning Kun would get a happily ever after without you in it.

That sad reality hit your fragile little teenage heart more than you had ever meant for it to, and it must’ve been pretty obvious too. Because Mrs. Qian couldn’t seem to stop teasing you for your little crush on him ever since.

Mrs. Qian scoffed, “I’m not putting words in your mouth. I’m just asking a question i already know the answer to.”

“And how do you KNOW the answer already huh auntie?” You raised your eyebrow at her.

Because she had caught you crying over your pathetic teenage feeling for him a few days prior. You hadn’t told her that was why you were crying of course, she just… knew.

“Because a mother always knows ___.” She proudly smiled, taking your finished onions pieces and adding them to her pan.

Mrs. Qian treated you like the daughter she never had. And anytime she implied or referred to you as her daughter, it made you unbelievably happy. But when she brought the topic up when she had also been trying to get you to admit your unrequited love for her son, you couldn’t help but let the cosmic knife that hit your heart force you to miss a breath.

You didn’t know why she had insisted on bringing the topic up over and over again or why she wouldn’t just lay it to rest already. You both knew your feelings for him would amount to nothing even if you had told the truth.

Because Kun had already shifted. In fact, the first time he had was when he protected you from your father, which was a detail he was too ashamed to admit to you for the first couple months after it happened. You weren’t even sure why he felt that way. Your father was a monster in your book and, in your eyes, Kun had saved your life.

But it was because he had already shifted to protect you that you knew your feelings for him were nothing more than a school girl crush that never meant to be spoken about in the light of day. He would’ve imprinted on you that day if you were his mate and since he hadn’t told you he had when he told you he was a werewolf too, you knew he didn’t.

“Knowing stuff is overrated sometimes though auntie,” you sadly shrugged because you had started to think about how you and Kun weren’t meant to be, “Sometimes knowing stuff is a lot more painful than not knowing stuff.”

It was soon after this sentence that you began to feel burning tears brimming your waterlines and you had to excuse yourself so that you didn’t end up crying over everyone’s dinner, much to your foster mother’s dismay. But you knew in the end your decision to stop making dinner was what was best for everyone.

What you didn’t know however, was that when Kun got home from school Mrs. Qian was waiting for him. She told him how she thought you ran out on making that nights dinner with her because she had made you upset in her efforts to get you to admit your feelings for him.

Kun had been careful. He had been really really careful on how he interacted with you since he shifted. He never got too close to you, made sure to keep contact minimal, kept conversation light and simple, and refused to be left alone with you. He didn’t want to scare you away.

You had been so initially hesitant about werewolves and everything having to do with them, which was something that wasn’t helped by him attacking your father to keep him from laying his hands on you. He didn’t want to overburden you with more stuff that could cause you to have an emotional breakdown.

He didn’t want to tell you that even though you were already struggling with the idea of werewolves existing, he had imprinted on you which meant you were his mate.

But when his mother sat him down and told him he needed to be 100% honest with you because you were breaking down thinking he didn’t love you the way you loved him, he raced up the stairs to tell you the truth.

And that’s where he found you crying in his bedroom under his old comforter. He couldn’t help the small whine that escaped his lungs at seeing you so sad and hurt because of something he unintentionally caused. He pulled you onto his lap and let you cry for as long as you needed to before he told you you were his mate.

He actually practically got on his hands and knees so he could beg you to get you to forgive him for making you question his love for you. But you weren’t mad at him, you were just happy he told you because it meant that no one could take him away from you. Then Kun got happy because you accepting him mesnt no one could take you away from him. And everything seemed like it was gonna be okay.

Even after the both of you and your newly formed pack had to flee your home country so you wouldn’t get killed like some of your friends and their families had, you still didn’t really care all that much about the dangers and the hardships. When other packs came and tried to hurt yours you were never worried. When you had no money and no possessions but the clothes on your backs, you never once batted an eye. Because at the end of the day, you always had Kun by your side.

That’s how you and Qian Kun became the power couple. That’s why everyone knew you as the ‘it’ couple. That’s why some of the other couples even in your own pack envied what you both had.

No matter how stressful your respective college majors got, you never took it out on each other. No matter how limited your time got with each other due to crazy schedules, you never have up on making time with one another. No matter what life threw at either of you, you never once fought. No matter how hard the universe tried to break you down, you never once let the other break apart. No matter how tall the waves of misery and sorrow got, you never let the other drown. You were unbreakable together.

He was the love of your life. He was your other half. He was your soul mate. He was your world. But as you stood in the kitchen of your student Genji’s boyfriend’s home, you soon realized that those titles now also applied to a boy named Joshua Hong.

(Last Updated: 3/17/2023)

14 notes · View notes

starlightkun · 25 days ago

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⏯ word count: 18.3k ⏯ genre: band au, retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun, rookie/keyboardist!reader, age gap (kun is older), fluff, v v suggestive (lol it’s a kun fic written by me this gets so unhinged im sorry), ft. jungwoo/mark/chenle/jisung as reader’s bandmates, wayv as kun’s coworkers & some special guest appearances maybe?? ⏯ warnings: uhm there’s some maybe weird power dynamics going on here? reader is a former fan of kun’s but like his band flopped and they never met back then so 🤷‍♀️ read at your own peril ig, not necessarily a warning but since i do avoid describing the reader’s appearance in my fics, i wanted to give a heads up—reader is in a punk/alternative band and is mentioned and/or implied to have some tattoos and piercings (other than earlobes). i don’t get super detailed, but since it’s there, i wanted to make sure y’all weren’t caught off-guard ⏯ extra info: set in the same universe as filler episodes & sugarcoated brain, but u don’t need to read those in order to understand this one at all i prommy ⏯ author’s note: those teasers of emo kun for frequency coming out right after i wrote a punk venue manager kun into sugarcoated brain??? oh i was not going to get out unscathed ⏯ now playing… frost – txt | doing this again! – bears in trees | entropy – beach bunny

── ⋆⋅♫⋅⋆ find more stories from backstage at venue:hell here!

“He played the keys in Vizions!” You hissed, anxiously looking over at the hallway as if Kun might reappear.

“You should see if he’ll sign your album,” Jungwoo suggested with a grin, nudging you with his elbow.

“Or fuck him,” Chenle deadpanned. “You’re in a band now too, not just a fan.”

“Venue:Hell…” Chenle hummed as he parked the band’s van in the alleyway in the back of the building. “When was the last time we were here?”

“We had a set at their Valentine’s Day event, remember?” You leaned over the console from the backseat. “When the lead singer of Roses for Eyes got decked in face?”

A chorus of ‘oh yeah!’s and other noises of recognition sprang up around you, as well as a few snickers and hisses of sympathy at the memory. You all had already performed that night and were in line for the bar nearby when the incident happened, practically front row for it.

“And we agreed to come back,” Jisung snorted.

“If we can make it out with no broken noses, I think that’ll be a success,” you grinned, reaching over Mark to open the side door.

After grabbing some of your equipment from the back, the five of you approached the back door. It was unlocked, as promised, and you all descended into the cool, dim basement venue.

“Hello? We’re Doing this Again! The new band!” Jungwoo called out from the front of the group. You shut the door firmly behind you.

A young man skidded around into your line of sight, bright smile on his face. “Hey! I’m Yangyang.”

“Our assistant manager is out for the next few weeks, so we’re kind of all sharing custody of you guys,” he explained, gesturing for you to follow him. “I’ll show you the green room, we’ll get the rest of your stuff, then our manager should be out here before your soundcheck.”

Yangyang and another employee, Kunhang, helped unload your equipment from your van, and began setting it up on stage. You learned that Yangyang was their sound guy, and Kunhang did lights and the rest of their tech.

Once your equipment was all set up, Yangyang and Kunhang exchanged uncertain looks, glancing over towards a hallway attached to the main room that you were in. Yangyang shrugged one shoulder and made a gesture for Kunhang to go ahead. The tech rolled his eyes at his coworker, but stepped forward anyway, flashing you all a bright smile.

“We’ll show you around since he’s not out yet. He said he wanted to talk to you before soundcheck,” he explained apologetically.

Kunhang and Yangyang showed you most of the building, ending in the main green room backstage.

“Uh, you can settle in,” Yangyang waved his hands around vaguely. “We’re going to go see if the old man finally keeled over or something.”

“I heard that.” A stern voice resounded from just outside the green room, making the two employees jump and turn around.

A third man had joined you all, focusing an unamused gaze on Yangyang and Kunhang. He was dressed in black from head to toe, a black leather jacket over black button-up shirt and black jewelry glinting from his neck, ears, and knuckles. He wore dark pants and big black work boots too, so you were doubly surprised at how quietly he could move. While you could tell he was older than the rest of you, you definitely wouldn’t call him old. As soon as his sharp eyes flicked over to you from under a curtain of jet-black hair, a jolt of recognition zapped through you, and you grabbed Jisung’s arm at the same time that you bit down on your tongue to avoid making a sound. Your friend’s arm tensed in surprise, but he thankfully stayed quiet too. The newcomer’s gaze went back to his employees as quick as it had flitted over your band.

“Go find something to do,” he shooed them away with one swift hand movement.

“On it!” They replied in unison, shoes squeaking on the concrete floor as they quite literally ran away.

He turned back to you all, taking a few steps in to fully enter the green room. The annoyance drained from his face, and his features became beautifully neutral as he greeted you all politely. “Sorry, I was on a call, it took much longer than I thought it would. If they didn’t already tell you, my assistant manager is out, so it’s a bit hectic around here right now. Normally our weekly act is her responsibility.”

“Is she okay?” Jungwoo asked.

“Yes, she’s fine,” the manager replied. “She’s assisting our usual weekly with their mini-tour. Which is why you all are here, of course. We appreciate you agreeing to fill in for RFE on this temporary basis.”

“Thanks for the opportunity,” Mark replied automatically.

“If you all do well, it might not have to be temporary, hm?” He said, and though his words were kind, his expression didn’t change. You were beginning to taste blood. “I’m Kun, manager of Venue:Hell. Please let me know if you have any issues while you’re here. I’ve delayed your soundcheck already, so I’ll let you go ahead.”

With that, Kun stepped out as briskly as he had arrived, leaving no room for further conversation or introductions.

As soon as he left, Jisung yanked his arm from your grip and looked at you incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, what the fuck—”

“He played the keys in Vizions!” You hissed, anxiously looking over at the hallway as if he might reappear.

“Wait, like that band that only released one album like a decade ago that you’re obsessed with?” Chenle questioned doubtfully. “How can you be sure?”

“She went to like every gig they had,” Mark recounted. “Got us grounded, and then would insist on sneaking out while we were grounded to go to even more. If anybody is gonna recognize a member of that band, it’s her.”

“You should see if he’ll sign your album,” Jungwoo suggested with a grin, nudging you with his elbow.

“Or fuck him,” Chenle deadpanned abruptly, dropping onto the well-used couch, stretching his legs out. “You’re in a band now too, not just a fan.”

“You guys don’t get it, I didn’t just think he was hot—”

“That was definitely part of it,” Mark snorted.

“—He was awesome on the keys! And he wrote all of their songs, and produced their entire album by himself!” You defended yourself. “He made me realize I didn’t just have to do piano recitals and that I could do something like this.”

“Alright, sorry, Y/N,” Chenle said softly. “We were just messin’ with you.”

“Do you think he recognized you? Since you apparently went to so many of their shows?” Jisung asked.

You shook your head. “No way. I never had the courage to talk to them. And that was like ten years ago anyway.”

“I still think you should see if he’ll sign your CD.” Jungwoo patted your shoulder. “It’d probably make his day.”

“I don’t know, clearly the band thing didn’t work out for him,” Chenle added. “He might want to just forget it all.”

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously, then let out a dejected sigh. “Nah, it’s not like I carry the CD with me everywhere…”

Your set at Venue:Hell that night was a hit, if you did say so yourself. It wasn’t nearly as big of a turnout as the Valentine’s event you’d played at, but that was to be expected for a random Thursday night. The crowd was surprisingly engaged, especially since you were careful to incorporate a couple covers of popular songs into your set.

Running off the stage, the five of you immediately tackled each other in a group hug that was all yelling, elbows, sweat, laughing, and chaos.

“One down, three to go!” You cheered, ruffling up Jisung’s matted hair.

“Oh my god, we’re doing this again!” Mark added breathlessly.

“Boo!” You all immediately jeered at the corny joke he made every chance he got. “Tomato! Tomato!”

He laughed loudly as you and Chenle pushed and jostled him, but not enough for him to fully leave your circle. Jungwoo tugged him back in.

“Good job, guys,” Dejun, a stage tech, congratulated you as he passed by, starting to break down some of the equipment on stage.

Your band broke apart to help the staff shut down the stage for the night as other music played over the speakers of the venue and patrons chatted and danced on the floor. A few came up to the stage to talk with you as you worked, interested both in you all as the new weekly, and what had happened to the old weekly. They seemed relieved to hear that Roses for Eyes wasn’t gone for good, and were really enthused in the feedback they had for you.

After putting your equipment that you would be taking home in the green room, you all decided to stay and mingle for a little while more. If this was only going to be for four nights, you wanted to make them count and do as much as you could to get your band’s name out there. You ordered a drink from Sicheng the bartender, at which time you found out that the 50% employee discount applied to you too for the time being. Turning back to the crowd, you strained to spot any of your bandmates among the bodies.

“Hey,” Kun had appeared next to you at the bar, and you jumped out of your skin.

“Fuckin’ Christ, dude,” you coughed, trying to catch your breath. “Can you teleport or something?”

“Sorry.” He seemed more amused than apologetic. “Good set.”

“Thanks.” You took a sip of your drink to avoid looking him in the eye.

“Who did the arrangement for that first cover?”

“I did. Uhm, it obviously wasn’t for a rock band, so I had to do some tweaking…”

He nodded, looking actually impressed. “You compose?”

“Me and Mark for the most part, yeah. The other guys pitch in on songwriting sometimes, too. Chenle’s adlibs are crazy good.”

“Cool. See you next week.” Kun pushed off the bar, disappearing into the crowd.

Mark and Jungwoo found you still rooted to that spot, robotically sucking down your drink.

“Woah, I know we did good, but I don’t know if it was ‘get absolutely smashed’ good,” Mark laughed, pulling your drink down from your mouth.

“Come on, we got Jisung dancing!” Jungwoo took your drink and put it on the bar.

Your eyebrows shot up at the news that your wallflower drummer had apparently joined in the fun. “Really?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” He grabbed your arm and toted you off with the two of them.

The next week when you all arrived in the green room, you were a little surprised to see a plate of cookies sitting on the table in the center of the room. You all exchanged uncertain glances, looking around for any clue as to who the cookies were from or for. Jungwoo was the first one to take one from the plate and bite into it.

“Pretty good,” he gave his approval through a mouthful, encouraging the other guys to each take one or two.

You were still wary as you approached, picking a cookie up and taking a small bite. It was soft and chewy, and soon you were taking another bite.

“Oh good, you guys found the cookies,” Kun was in the doorway, having once again snuck up on you all.

Jisung started choking on his cookie, and Chenle had to smack him on the back to get it back down the right pipe. Kun’s lip twitched as he was clearly trying not to laugh, a dimple appearing and disappearing on one cheek instead.

“Did you buy these?” Mark asked, muffled through the cookie in his mouth.

“Baked them, yeah.”

“You made them?!” You stared at him, half-eaten cookie in hand.

“Unless they’re bad, then Ten made them.” He winked at you before slipping out of the room without another word.

“God, Y/N, stop drooling,” Chenle snickered, wiping at your chin teasingly.

You smacked his hand away, glaring at him. “Shut up.”

“You seriously looked like you were about to pounce on him,” Jungwoo added helpfully, tweaking your cheek as he walked by.

“Ugh, you guys are the worst!”

Week three found you alone on the stage before your soundcheck. Your bandmates were out on a food run, but you didn’t feel like getting back in the van, so you were messing around on your keyboard. The venue staff was also scarce, you had only briefly seen Yangyang since showing up today. Tapping your foot to a familiar beat, you closed your eyes as you hummed a melody that you knew by heart, fingers flitting across the keys. It wasn’t your own band’s song, but one by Vizions, a powerful ballad.

“Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

Errant notes rang out as your eyes flew open, heart jumping out of your chest. “Fuck!”

You spotted Kun down on the floor, covering his mouth as he started laughing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You always mean to scare the shit out of people.” You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s like your favorite hobby.”

“Alright, guilty.” He held his hands up, still grinning. “Seriously, how the hell do you even know that?”

“I used to go to your shows like, all the time,” you admitted, staring down at the keys. “You were like, kinda a big reason I started doing this at all.”

“Wait seriously?” All the humor had fallen from his face as he stared at you with confusion and a touch of wonder, brows furrowed and mouth parted.

“Yeah, I uh—” You grabbed your bag from the ground at your feet and fetched the CD that had been sitting in there for the past two weeks, since your first night at Venue:Hell. “I still have your CD.”

Kun jumped up onto the stage with you, taking the plastic case from you and turning it over slowly in his hands. “I don’t even have one of these anymore. God, I remember desperately trying to sell these at shows after we had them made…” He peered a little closer at your face, then shook his head. “No, I don’t remember you, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I never talked to you guys at any of the shows,” you assured him. “I mean, what if you were creeps?”

He let out a few hearty chuckles at that, nodding. “Okay, fair. Good self-preservation skills.”

“Also, I think someone else was at the table when I bought it.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard any of those songs.” He handed you the disc back.

“I didn’t realize you were going to hear me,” you muttered. “When I was playing that, I was just—”

“I’m not mad,” he reassured you. “I’m just… shocked. That’s all.”

“Great, because I kind of want to die in a hole right now, so—”

“When did you realize? Who I was?”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “As soon as I saw you…”

“That makes sense,” he nodded. “I thought I had scared you too, when you grabbed Jisung.”

“You did, just not the same way you scared Yangyang and Kunhang,” you joked. Then, panic flooded your veins as you quickly went to tack on, “I’m not like, obsessed, by the way, I just really like your music, and it was a big inspiration for me to switch from classical to—”

Kun started laughing again, waving his hands in front of him to try to calm you down. “I believe you, I believe you. It’s okay, I swear, I believe you.”

“Oh thank god,” you groaned, covering your face with both hands.

“You’re a lot better than I ever was.” He dropped off the stage, starting to set up the stools around the perimeter of the floor.

“What?! No!” You immediately argued.

“You improved on what I wrote, I heard it. That little—” he imitated part of the melody you had been playing, the fingers of one hand tapping imaginary keys in the air. “—that you changed in the bridge. I like it.”

“I was just messing around waiting for them to get back with the food, I wasn’t—”

“It’s good,” he insisted. “You’re good, Y/N.”

“So were you,” you muttered, futzing with the knobs on your instrument.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t mention any of this to my employees.”

“What? They don’t know?”

“No.” He shook his head. “They know I’ve been around the scene for a while, they know I can play, that’s it.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Will you do that for me?”

“Yeah, sure, Kun.” You weren’t sure what sudden surge of confidence possessed you in that moment, but you picked the CD up off your keyboard. “If you’ll sign this for me.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’ve got a Sharpie around here, right?”

“Yeah, in the-in the office.” He pointed over his shoulder.

You hopped off the stage, looking at him expectantly. He led the way through the venue in a bit of a daze, until you got to a door at the end of a cramped hallway. Kun ushered you into the back office, and you tried to ignore how fast your heart was going as you stepped inside. You’d never been in the admin office of Venue:Hell, only ever the main floor area, stage, and backstage.

The walls were plastered in album covers, most of which you recognized. A small futon was pushed against one wall while a desk and office chair were cramped into another corner. Kun dug through a cup of pens sitting on the desk until he had secured a black Sharpie.

“Seriously?” He double-checked with you.

“Seriously.” You pushed the plastic case into his hands.

He chuckled, uncapping the Sharpie with his teeth before quickly scrawling his signature in the bottom right corner. He fanned it a couple times to dry the ink, then handed it back to you.

“15-year-old me would be geeking out right now,” you beamed down at the fresh signature.

Kun spat the Sharpie cap back out onto the desk. “Fifteen?! We always played at 18-plus venues!”

You snickered. “Bold of you to think that I couldn’t get my hands on a fake ID, or that most of those places were actually carding in the first place.”

“Point taken,” he groaned.

“Anyway, your secret’s safe with me.” You made a motion of zipping up your lips and throwing away the key. “And the rest of my band. I kind of already told them.”

“As long as they don’t say anything either.”

“I’ll make sure they know.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you echoed, shaking the CD case. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kun shook his head, gesturing towards the door. “Nothing. Good luck tonight, Y/N.”

“Right. Thanks!” You opened the office door.

On the other side was Yangyang, who glanced between the two of you suspiciously. “Oh. Y/N. What were you doing in there? With the door shut?”

You kept the CD tucked between your arm and your side. “Had some questions about the weekly slot.”

With that, you practically skipped away, giving the sound tech no further opportunities to ask questions. Of you, at least.

Kun approached the stage from the floor as you all were doing your soundcheck for your final night at Venue:Hell. He waited patiently for you to finish the song that you were on. When he saw that you all had removed your in-ears, he spoke up.

“Got word from Roses,” he started. “They’re going to be moving to every other week when they get back. How would you guys like to alternate the weekly slot with them? My staff and regulars all really like you, we’d love to keep you on. Talk about it, let me know by Wednesday?”

He didn’t wait for an answer from you all, pivoting back around on his heel to take care of whatever else was on his never-ending checklist. The five of you looked at each other, and you already knew the answer. Chenle and Jisung high-fived while Jungwoo hastily took his bass off to grab you and spin you around. You yelped and laughed, half-heartedly smacking his back to get him to put you down as he nearly crashed the both of you into Mark and his instrument.

At your first performance as a semi-permanent fixture around Venue:Hell, you were antsy as soon as you entered the basement, looking around expectantly.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you told your friends over your shoulder as you left them on the main floor.

“Where are you going?” Mark called after you.

“I just want to see if Kun’s here, I want to tell him thanks for keeping us on.”

Knowing jeers and snickers sprang up behind you, but you ignored them, walking down the cramped hallway to the admin office. The door at the end was ajar, and you ducked around a precariously perched box of t-shirts to grab the door handle.

Through the crack, you could hear someone humming a faint melody. It wasn’t any song that you knew, but you did stop to listen for probably longer than you should have. You couldn’t help it, you were curious. Finally, when you started feeling like maybe a bit too much of a creep, you knocked softly, pushing the door open even more.

“Yeah?” Kun called out.

You poked your head in. “Hey.”

He looked over at you from the computer screen, nodding for you to enter the office fully. “Y/N, what can I do for you?”

“What song is that?”

“Huh?”

“That you were just humming, what is it? It’s nice.”

“It’s nothing,” he brushed it off. “Just a tune I’ve got in my head.”

“You’re still writing songs?” You asked eagerly.

“No. I haven’t in quite a few years.”

“Really? You stayed around the scene, I figured you might’ve at least had a notebook somewhere? Lyrics in your notes app? Some demos recorded on your phone?” After each one, he shook his head, and your hopeful gaze fell more and more. “Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“Huh.” You sat on the desk next to the computer keyboard, loosely crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to absorb that information. “Do you miss it at all?”

“Writing songs or performing?”

“Any of it.”

“Bits and pieces, yeah,” Kun admitted, leaning back into the office chair. “I wouldn’t go back, though.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“We were broke, for one thing.” He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, the excitement of having all those what-ifs in front of you, it was awesome. And I do miss the music. But I also like my life now just fine.”

“I didn’t mean to put down what you’re doing now, by the way,” you added. “I was just curious.”

Kun’s eyes crinkled as he smiled up at you warmly. “It’s okay, I didn’t take it like that. I thought I was going to be in the band forever too.”

You looked down at your lap, thinking about your own band, and felt an uncomfortable pressure pushing down on your chest.

“So, did you come in here for anything specific? Or to just watch me create the employee schedule for next month?”

“As thrilling of an offer as that is,” you chuckled, “I did have a real reason. I wanted to say thanks for offering us this slot. We’re all really grateful for the opportunity.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you guys accepted. I hope Venue:Hell can be the starting point for much more.”

“Thanks.” You stood back up, showing yourself out. You nearly slammed into Yangyang on the other side, though, and jumped back in shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, Yangyang! Why are you always in the damn hallway?!”

“Why are you always in the office?!” He retorted, just as exasperated.

You rolled your eyes and shouldered past him.

You had settled into your biweekly sets at Venue:Hell, becoming familiar with the staff, regulars, and rhythm of the venue. A private event was renting out the space tonight, so your set had gotten moved way up, to the early evening. You didn’t mind, it meant that instead of arriving after dark, you arrived before sunset.

Kun was out setting up the stools and tables around the perimeter of the floor when you all entered the building, and gave you a wave of acknowledgement over his shoulder.

“Do you live here or something?” Chenle asked. “I’ve never seen another car out there, and you’re literally always here.”

“I might as well,” the manager mused, continuing to set up.

“Pretty sure he’s a vampire,” Jungwoo laughed. “Never seen him out in daylight.”

“Very original,” Kun replied dryly. “I’m wearing all black, I work underground…”

“You’re old!” Ten interjected from what sounded like backstage.

“I sign your checks!” He immediately barked back.

“Uh, guys?” You looked at your bandmates pointedly. “I think the call is coming from inside the house?”

They all looked down at their own dark outfits and various smatterings of tattoos and piercings, muttering among themselves before walking off. You shook your head, following after them.

The performance itself was smooth like usual, some different faces in the crowd than usual, which you chalked up to the different time. You swore you saw Kun standing in the back of the venue with someone, but they were too far back and shrouded in shadows for you to be sure. After your set, you all couldn’t hang around like usual, having to pack up everything and get out so the private event could start setting up.

Your bandmates had already taken everything else out to the van, you were the only one left in the green room, gathering up the last of your stuff to bring out. You had just finished packing one duffel bag and were stuffing another when there was a light knock on the doorway.

“Y/N, you’re still here.” It was Kun, followed by another man that you only saw out of the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, I’m almost gone,” you promised, rushing even more now.

“First, I’d like you to meet someone.” Kun’s words made you slow down, looking up properly as he gestured to the tall man with him, inked from neck to fingertip. The heavy tattoos and time didn’t make it any harder for you to place the face, though, before Kun had finished the introductions, “Johnny, this is Y/N, she plays keys in Doing this Again! Y/N, this is Johnny, he—”

“—was your drummer in Vizions,” you finished, wide-eyed.

Johnny’s eyebrows went up before his face relaxed into an easy-going smile. “Damn, I thought Kun was bullshitting when he said he’d found a fan of ours.”

“No, I’m real,” you shook your head and laughed.

“Well, I’m honored.” Johnny beamed, holding a CD case and Sharpie out to you. “Would you mind?”

“Huh?” You stared down at the items in confusion. It was your band’s CD, a new press that was available at the venue’s merch table.

“Kun invited me out to see your set. I’m a fan of yours now. I’d be stoked if you could sign my album.”

You looked between Kun and Johnny uncertainly. Kun smiled encouragingly, mouthing ‘go ahead’ at you. That was the final push you needed to take the disc and pen. Your hands shook as you signed across the plastic CD case, and you hoped it hadn’t messed up your signature too much.

“Thanks.” He took both back, fanning the CD to dry the ink. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check out the bar now. It was an honor meeting you, Y/N.”

“Y-You too, Johnny.” You shook the hand that he had offered, his palm noticeably calloused. “Thank you.”

That left you and Kun in the green room now, and you plopped down exactly where you stood, wrapping your arms around your knees and burying your face in your legs to muffle your screams. Kun chuckled as he patted you on the head.

“Woah, you alright?”

You glared up at him. “How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?” He asked, still laughing. “I thought you liked our band?”

“Yes, but you can’t jumpscare me with your former bandmates!” You whined, hiding your face again.

“If I had told you Johnny was coming tonight, you would’ve been freaked out before going on stage.”

You huffed. Unfortunately, he was right.

“I’m going to take your silence as admission that I’m right.” After another long stretch of silence, Kun added, “He was being sincere, you know. He really did like your set, bought your CD with his own money.”

You pulled your head up, resting your cheek on your knee. “Let me guess—Getting me to sign it was your idea?”

“All him.” At your suspicious squint, Kun smiled, “Johnny likes supporting new acts on the scene. And why is it so hard for you to believe that people actually think you’re good?”

You let out a drawn-out sigh. “Typical—My parents don’t.”

He squatted down in front of you to be eye level with you. “What did they want you to do?”

“My dad started teaching me piano ever since I could sit on his lap and press the keys. They wanted me to do classical,” you commiserated. “The first time I said no to a recital, I thought the world was going to explode.”

“Did it?”

“No. They didn’t get mad, or yell, or force me to do it anyway. It was so… anti-climactic. I had this big idea of teen rebellion in my head, I guess.” You let out another heavy sigh. “But they’ve never supported me since I started doing this. When I bought my first keyboard, Mark had to help me carry it home from the music store. They’ve never come to a single gig, never even ask how it’s going. When I do talk about it, they don’t say anything, just wait for me to stop talking. They just… pretend like it’s not real.”

“If you all don’t talk about your music, what do you talk about?”

“When I’m going to choose a career path, or get married. Pretty much those two things.”

“I’m sorry your parents don’t support you, Y/N. That sucks, and I won’t take that away.” Kun squeezed your forearm, resting his hand there. “I’m sure you know this, but it doesn’t hurt hearing it again—You’re good, really good, whether or not they acknowledge it. And I hope you let yourself see that.”

You couldn’t quite smile, but blinked slowly, and nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks, Kun.”

“Here,” he stood up, grabbing one of the duffel bags and slinging it over his shoulder, “I’ll help you with your stuff.”

His words had made you feel a little better, but you were slow to move, still self-pitying. Kun held both his hands down for you. “Come on. Normally, I’d let you pout all night, but other people have rented this space and that contract did not come with a pouting keyboardist.”

You reluctantly put your hands in his, letting him pull you to your feet.

“So yeah, that’s what Retro Rewind is gonna be like,” you finished brightly, looking between your parents hopefully. “Do you think you think you can make it? I-I don’t expect you to stay the whole time, but we’ll be going on first, so just for our set? Maybe?”

Your mom pushed around food on her plate, eyes trained on her dish. Your father took another bite of his food, washing it down with a sip of water. The only sounds in the room were of your breathing, and utensils occasionally scraping against plates. With every passing second, the shame that usually forced you into quietly changing the topic transformed into a white-hot rage, the kind that made you feel like a teapot that was about to boil over, steam bursting from your ears as they went on ignoring you.

“Hey!” You yelled, gripping your utensil tighter. “Look at me!”

Your mother finally met your gaze, her features stern. “Quiet down.”

“I asked a question. Are either of you going to answer it?”

“You do not speak to your mother like that,” your father interjected furiously.

“Well, I’m the one doing all of the talking here, I thought I could speak however I like,” you retorted.

Your mom tried again, “Y/N, please—”

“Please what?” You stared her down. “I try to engage you guys in conversation and keep you updated on my life and get shut down every single time, but I still try the next time anyway. All I’m asking, for once, is that you acknowledge—”

“Acknowledge what exactly?” Your dad snapped, a vein in his forehead popping out. “All you do is recount grimy basement after grimy basement, events that don’t pay you, long stretches of time where you’re not even booked, clearing out your savings to record an album with no label to distribute it. What accomplishments, exactly, are we supposed to be acknowledging?”

You held his eye contact, clenching your jaw so tight it felt like your teeth might break.

“We wanted the best for you, sweetie,” your mom added weakly. “Concert halls, opera houses… not this.”

Broiling hot tears stung your eyes as you stood up, pushing your chair back with a blood-curdling screech of the legs against the floor. You swallowed down the sharp thorny thing growing in your throat enough to speak, “All I wanted was for you guys to listen to me. I didn’t realize you have been. It turns out you just hate what you’ve been hearing.”

Your mom cast her eyes back down to her plate as your father grabbed his glass, lifting it to his lips to drink, his eyes focused on something in the middle distance, looking right through you. The chair was knocked over entirely in your hurry to get the fuck out of there, and the doorframe shook and rattled as you slammed their front door closed behind you.

Running down the sidewalks, your feet pounded the pavement like it had done you wrong, and you took hiccupping gulps of air as tears streaming down your face. When you tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and narrowly avoided skinning your entire face only by skinning your hands instead, you finally slowed down. You hissed in pain as you looked down at your bloodied hands, then up at your surroundings. The street you were on was somewhat familiar. You should be about ten minutes from the venue.

A rather miserable but not terribly long walk later, you were at the backdoor to Venue:Hell. Fumbling your keys from your pocket, you unlocked the door, shutting off the alarm that you were very thankful to know the code to. You washed your hands off in the sink of the women’s bathroom. After drying them with probably too many paper towels, you could see that the bleeding had stopped, and the skin there would just be a bit raw for a little while.

Walking back out to the main floor, your keyboard was still set up on stage from your set last night. Without another thought, you were hopping up onto the stage and turning on the equipment. You needed to do something. Completely ignoring your usual warm-ups, you went right into the most vitriolic, hardcore song that you could think of, uncaring of how hard you were bringing your fingers down against the keys. In fact, the repetitive blunt force sort of felt nice against your bones. A different sort of pain than the anguish tearing through your chest, at least. You lost track of time, only thinking about the music blaring out of the speakers and shaking through you.

“Y/N?!” Kun entered the main floor from the direction of the stairs, plugging one ear. “Y/N!”

You immediately stopped playing. “Oh. Kun.”

“I got a notification that the alarm was set off, and nobody responded to my text saying it was them, so I figured I’d stop by…”

You took your phone out of your pocket. There was in fact a text from Kun from twenty minutes ago in the Venue:Hell groupchat, asking if anybody was at the venue right now, followed by several ‘no’s from the venue staff, other members of your band, and Roses for Eyes.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

He took another moment to look you over, then sighed. “Alright, come on.”

“What?”

“You’re going to break your keyboard like that.” He hopped up onto the stage, shutting off your keyboard and all the other sound equipment. “Come on.”

Interest piqued, and with nothing better to do, you followed him. Kun turned off all the lights and set the building alarm before locking up behind you. He took a sharp turn down the alley that your band normally parked your van in. The two of you walked in silence, which you were grateful for. If he tried to press you on your sour mood, you were sure you’d snap at him and just feel even worse.

Just a couple minutes later, and you were at an apartment building. Kun held the front door open for you, then the door to the stairwell. After an arduous hike up the fourth floor, you stopped in front of an apartment. He unlocked it, and led you inside.

“Is this your place?” You asked, toeing off your shoes by the front door as he did.

“Yup.” Kun pointed to the kitchen sink. “Wash your hands.”

With that, he disappeared further into the apartment. As you washed your hands, you looked around. From where you were, you could see the kitchen and adjacent living room. It wasn’t a very big space, only one bedroom if you had to guess, but Kun kept it tidy. A few vintage framed band posters were on the living room walls that you had walked past to get to the kitchen, and he had a nice plush-looking couch.

Kun returned as you were finishing drying off your hands. You looked at him expectantly. “Now what?”

He guided you over to a countertop, where he had a bunch of graham crackers double-bagged in two ziploc plastic bags. He held a rolling pin out to you. “I need these crushed into small crumbs.”

It felt good to swing the rolling pin down, to watch the cracks form in the crackers as they burst apart, then became smaller and smaller as you kept hitting them. Rolling the rolling pin along the bag would probably be more efficient, but this was more fun. Kun, for his part, said nothing about the noise as you repeatedly whacked the bag over and over with loud bangs. He was busy with something else, you didn’t really care—your attention was fully on the crackers. By the time the crackers were a fine dust, you had worked up a sweat, but the raging tension in your muscles was no more. You were still pissed, of course, but no longer had the itch to slash somebody’s tires at least.

Kun came by to review your handiwork. “Good. Dump that in the bowl, then do the other ones.”

You obliged, opening the bags and shaking out the crumbs into a metal mixing bowl before refilling the bags with a new box of graham crackers. With the bags zipped back up, you went back to work obliterating the crackers inside. You didn’t even realize somebody was knocking on Kun’s front door until he was opening it, and you heard an unfamiliar man’s voice.

“What the fuck, man? Are you doing fucking construction in there?”

“You’re complaining about noise right now?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to fucking sleep.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Keep it. The fuck. Down.”

“Get out of my fucking face.”

“Whatever. Just keep it down.”

Kun quietly shut the door, calmly doing his locks and deadbolts back up. You looked between the rolling pin in your hands and the crackers guiltily. He wordlessly pulled out his phone, and with a few taps, a hard rock song was playing out of speakers in his living room at full volume.

He rejoined you in the kitchen, having to raise his voice as he explained, “Downstairs neighbor. I can hear him and his girlfriend fucking or fighting every night. Sometimes at the same time.”

You burst into laughter, turning back around to take another swing at the graham crackers. Once those ones looked pulverized enough, you dumped them into the bowl too.

“Done?” Kun asked.

“Yep!” You nodded. “So, what is this for, anyway?”

“Cheesecake bars.” He slid the bowl over to him, pouring melted butter in and mixing them together. “This is the crust.”

“Ooh, sounds good.”

He placed a square glass baking dish in front of you. “Press the graham cracker into an even layer on the bottom.”

You did as he instructed, singing along to the next song that had started playing as you worked. Meticulously smushing the crust into the bottom of the dish, you squinted as you tried to figure out if it was even or not. As your focus increased, your singing dropped out, and you realized that there was another voice humming in the kitchen too, almost unintelligible past the loud music. You looked up from the crust to where Kun was mixing something in another bowl, his attention fully on that. Your ears strained to catch more of his voice.

Then his sharp gaze was on you, eyebrows raising inquisitively. “Done?”

“Yeah, I think.” You straightened up to let him take a look.

He gave it his nod of approval before popping the dish into the pre-heated oven. Kun went back to the other bowl, cracking two eggs into it. You followed him to that corner of the kitchen, hopping up onto the countertop next to the stand mixer. He gave you a brief look of intrigue before continuing on with his task. He secured the bowl in the stand mixer then turned it on. You watched with interest as the ingredients were incorporated together. Kun stopped it, scraping down the sides with a spatula and adding more ingredients before turning it back on. Finally, he stopped the mixer again and took the bowl and attachment from it. He handed you the mixing attachment that had just been in the batter, covering the bowl with plastic wrap and putting it in the fridge.

When he turned around to see you still dutifully holding the attachment, he pointed to it, “You can clean it off. We won’t need it again.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, taking your finger and scooping off a big chunk of batter. It was pleasantly sweet and creamy, and you eagerly licked off the rest. The sink was in arm’s reach, and you leaned forward to deposit the now-clean(ish) mixer attachment in with the rest of the dirty dishes.

Kun rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he turned the tap on, and you shamelessly ogled his hands and forearms as he washed the dishes. Despite being in the scene for so long, he only had one tattoo between the two areas, an abstract ink swirl that started on his his right pinky finger and flowed around his arm and disappeared into his shirt. You remembered that tattoo from all the concerts you’d attended, watching these same hands play the electric keyboard.

When he held a soaking wet dish out towards you, you blinked at it, startled from your nostalgic reverie. A drop of water dripped off and onto your leg, making you panic and take the bowl from him. “Fine—Ack! It’s wet!”

“Towel’s on the oven door next to you.” He indicated with his gaze before going back to washing.

You grabbed the dish towel from its place hanging off the oven door, hastily drying both the bowl and your own hands. Another song came on that you knew, and you hummed along to the introductory guitar riff as you dried the next dish Kun handed you. As the actual vocals came in and you started singing too, you could hear Kun had started humming as well.

Pushing on his shoulder, you got an incredulous look in return, but simply grinned and pushed more insistently as you sung louder. He shook his head and poured more soap on the spatula he was cleaning.

You pushed his shoulder a third time, taking a guitar solo as an opportunity to say, “Come on, Kun. I know you can sing. And I know you’re not afraid of getting a noise complaint.”

“I haven’t performed in years—”

“You’re not performing! You’re singing with me while doing the dishes!” You gestured at said dishes zealously. “Please?”

He remained silent, then the guitar solo was over, and he joined in when the singer on the recording came back in. You were so surprised that actually worked that you ended up missing the cue, which Kun immediately noticed. He pinched your thigh, and you jerked your leg away from him with a pout, but started singing with him nevertheless. Kun had only ever done background vocals in his band, but you’d listened to that CD so many times that you knew every layer of sound, every adlib, every second of every song by heart. That’s how you could also immediately tell that Kun’s voice had matured in the years since they’d recorded that album. He’d already told you that he was out of practice, but even if he wasn’t maybe hitting all the notes perfectly, there was something richer about his voice now that left you wanting this song to last forever.

Right as he passed you the last utensil, the timer on the oven beeped, and Kun dried his hands off to attend to that, ending your sing-along. He took the cooked crust from the oven, setting it on a cooling rack. After adjusting the oven temperature, he brought the cheesecake batter back out from the fridge, pouring it over the crust. Kun put it back in the oven and set the timer again.

“Fifty minutes,” he informed you.

You swung your feet. “So what are we going to do for fifty minutes? Other than blast music to piss your neighbor off?”

Kun walked into the living room, and you hopped off the counter to follow him. He paused the music on his phone and sat on the couch, picking up the remote from the coffee table, turning on the TV, then tossing the remote at you. “You pick.”

You sat down on the couch too, quickly trying to figure out all the buttons on his TV remote. A few minutes of unsuccessfully scrolling through streaming services later, and you turned it back off with a huff. “I don’t want to watch anything. Can’t we just—I don’t know, talk or something?”

“Sure.” Kun shifted, leaning back against the armrest. “You guys have your setlist for Retro Rewind yet?”

“Ugh—Not about work,” you groaned, dropping your face into your hands.

“Okay… Do you feel better?”

“Huh?”

“Y/N, I walked in on you Phantom-of-the-Opera-ing your keys this afternoon. You looked one chandelier away from burning our shitty opera house down,” he said frankly. “I won’t ask about what—But do you feel better now? Even a little?”

The mention of Retro Rewind and opera houses brought your conversation with your parents back to you, and you pressed the heels of your palms hard into your eyes to banish the thoughts, to keep living in this nice time now with Kun. You nodded. “Yeah. I do. Thanks, Kun.”

“Good.”

“I got lunch with my parents.” You stared down at your feet. “This whole time I thought they weren’t listening to me… They were, they just wish I was somebody else. They really think I’m a fucking failure.”

“Shit…” He breathed out, scooting over to rest a hand on your shoulder.

You let out a sharp laugh, lolling your head around to look over at him. “That’s it?”

“You don’t need me to tell you I’m proud of you. You’re a kick-ass musician without me or your parents.”

“Can you tell me anyway?” You mumbled.

Kun chuckled, stroking your hair. “I’m proud of you.”

His praise made you feel warm, especially with the gentle hand still petting your hair and his playful but genuine gaze fully focused on you. You suddenly had never wanted a man more in your life.

You tilted your head curiously, “Wait, you said your neighbor and his girlfriend are always…”

“Fucking and fighting,” he repeated for you, hand resting on the nape of your neck. “At all hours of the night. At least the nights I’m here, you know.”

“Have you ever gotten payback?”

Kun took a millisecond too long to point to the speakers, as if he’d caught on but wanted to see if you’d really go for it. “I just did…”

“No, I mean…” You stood up, leaning over him and grabbing the back of the couch next to his shoulder, ignoring the roadburn on your palm. “Ever given him a proper taste of his own medicine? Fucking and fighting…”

He calmly watched you. “I haven’t.”

“Do you want to? We don’t even have to fight after.”

“You just got in a fight with your parents, I’m someone older that you used to look up to—”

“Diagnosing me with daddy issues, nice,” you snickered derisively, caging him in with your other arm. “Maybe it’s that. Maybe I feel shitty and want to feel good. Maybe I think you’re like the hottest man I know, and we have at least forty minutes until those cheesecake bars are ready.”

“Forty minutes isn’t a lot of time,” Kun mused.

“Oh?”

His eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to yours. “You sure?”

You answered by crashing your mouths together, every nerve in your body coming to life. Kun grabbed your waist, encouraging you to sit on his lap. He let out a groan into the kiss when your hips pressed down against his, guiding you to do it again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling the fingers of one hand in the hair at the back of his head, pulling every so often. He kept the rhythm of your hips as he kissed and nipped a wet trail from your mouth under your jaw and down your neck. He bit down harder at the junction of your neck and shoulder, soothing over the indents of his teeth with his lips and tongue. You were already letting out needy, obscene noises and all your clothes were still on. At this rate, his neighbor would never sleep.

“Ah! That tickles!” You giggled, trying to push Kun’s hands away as they crept under your (his) shirt and skimmed over your sides.

Kun’s chest shook against yours as he laughed, hands continuing to explore your skin again. “Sorry, baby. I can’t help it, I’ve got a fucked out, pretty girl in my lap.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You want to play the blame game right now?”

The hint of chastisement in his tone made you shift unconsciously on top of him, leaning in to kiss him again. He indulged you, hand coming up to cup your cheek as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You had just grabbed his hand and started guiding it lower when a faint jingle rang in the background, past the blood roaring in your ears and lewd sounds of you two kissing.

Kun pulled away with a regretful sigh, planting one more lingering kiss on your lips before whispering, “The cheesecake bars.”

“No,” you whined, dragging out the ‘o’ as you pulled his mouth back to yours.

“Yes,” he mimicked you, also dragging out his vowel in a petulant tone. Kun flipped the two of you over, depositing you on the couch and taking advantage of your surprise to loosen your arms around his neck and stand up. He stretched his arms over his head, walking into the kitchen.

You slumped into the couch cushions, opting to rest your eyes for the moment. You could hear Kun turn the timer off, open the oven door, and take the pan out before setting it on the cooling tray. Then, his footsteps reentered the living room, and you peeked your eyes open again.

Kun stopped in front of you on the couch, tucking his hands into his sweatpants as he looked down at you. With you wearing his shirt, you could very clearly see his other sporadic tattoos on his bare torso—over his hip bone, ribs, one on his inner bicep, shoulder, and you knew there was one on the back of his neck too. He cocked his head as he looked down at you. “Taking a nap?”

“Yes. Honk shoo mimimi.”

“That’s too bad. The cheesecake bars have to cool for one to two hours.”

You sat up straight. “I can nap later.”

He offered his hand. “Come on, I’m fucking you in a bed this time.”

“Couch isn’t so good for your old bones?” You teased, accepting his hand as you went to stand up. Your legs wobbled, and you only stayed upright because you were already holding Kun and used him for balance.

“I don’t think I need to say anything,” he snickered, pulling you closer until your back was against his chest. “Let’s go, my pretty girl deserves a real pillow.”

Kun reentered his bedroom with a plate stacked high with cheesecake bars and glass of water. You smiled as he sat down in front of you, insistently handing you the water first. You gulped down half of it in one go before reaching for a cheesecake bar.

As soon as you bit into it, you groaned in appreciation. “So good.”

“Do you always make obscene noises when you eat?” Kun scoffed.

“Sorry,” you mumbled through another mouthful. “‘S really good.”

You held the rest of the cheesecake bar in your hand out to him. He wrapped his hand around yours, holding it still for him to lean forward and wrap his lips around your fingertips, taking the food in one bite. You watched him, unblinking.

When he finally let your hand go, you were snapped from your trance. “Now who’s being obscene while eating?”

He laughed, covering his mouth to keep crumbs from flying out.

Noticing that it had gotten darker out, you glanced at the time on his bedside clock. “Do you have to go to the venue tonight?”

“No, I’m off today.” He squeezed your thigh. “Not kicking you out.”

You looked down at his hand on your leg, your fingers tracing his ink up along his arm. There was a small clink as he set the plate down on the nightstand, then he was tilting your chin up so you’d look him in the eye. You twisted your head out of his gentle grip, looking back down, away from his too-intense gaze.

“You’re pouting again, baby,” he stated, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“Maybe so,” you admitted with a huff. “It’s my thinking face.”

“And what are you thinking about?”

“What—” Your throat closed up as your brain was going too fast for your mouth to keep up with. You decided to pick a simultaneously simpler yet much harder question, “Now what?”

Kun raised an eyebrow. “I need you to be more specific, because I don’t think you’re asking about dinner.”

“That’s what I mean! Are we going to eat dinner together? Or is that too much? Is it going to be just work from now on or like… something else? Some people just know but I don’t! I don’t know anything and I can’t do that!” You covered your face with your hands to hide your tears from him, embarrassed at your outburst, embarrassed to be young and insecure and having the ‘what are we’ talk right after sleeping with an older guy, embarrassed to be crying in front of him, embarrassed, embarrassed, embarrassed. God, that’s all you’d ever done since you’d met Kun, embarrassed yourself.

“Ah, Y/N,” Kun sighed, taking his hand back. “I’m too old for this shit. I thought you were awesome the first night we met. When I got to see you perform, then you told me about the arrangement you made. Even after I found out you knew about my old band, I tried to support you as crew because I figured you wouldn’t want to get tied down to an old flop like me.”

You sniffed, messily wiping your face on the sleeves of Kun’s hoodie that you were wearing. Finally meeting his eyes again, you said, “This whole time, you’ve been getting on me about not believing that I’m a good musician. Why can’t you believe that you were too? I haven’t seen a keyboard or anything around here, you don’t write songs anymore, don’t tell anybody about it at all, you won’t even sing while doing the dishes!”

He smiled bittersweetly and shrugged. “We didn’t make it.”

“You run an underground punk venue, you should know that success doesn’t equal skill!” You insisted. “Or are you the exception for some reason?”

“You… are probably right. It seems I have some esteem issues to work on as well,” he acquiesced.

“You’re not a flop, at least not to me. And even if you were, you’re a lot more than that too.” You crossed your arms. “Like, if anything, you’re just retired.”

“Okay, now that really makes me sound old.”

“Says the man who literally just said, quote: ‘I’m too old for this shit.’”

“About the petty relationship stuff.” He wrinkled his nose. “Retirement is just too far.”

You giggled at his reaction, and while he rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement too.

“Let me be even clearer then,” Kun declared, sandwiching one of your hands between both of his. “If you want something—a relationship—I’m all yours.”

You practically launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and locking your lips together. He let out a noise of surprise, wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you nevertheless. You mumbled ‘mine’ against his mouth, to which he immediately nodded, cradling the back of your head and pulling you closer. He slowly eased back onto his elbows, encouraging you to straddle his hips as his thumbs stroked the bare skin of your thighs. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing him flat to the mattress as you disconnected from the kiss, sitting up higher to look down at him. He looked up at you, arching an eyebrow as he stayed down.

“Now what, pretty girl?” He questioned.

“Say it again?” You requested sweetly, leaning down to kiss his throat.

“I’m all yours.” The words vibrated under your lips, and you moved back up to kiss them right out of his mouth.

“Welcome home.” Mark was sitting on your couch when you got back to your own apartment the following afternoon, feet kicked up on the coffee table as his fingers flitted over a video game controller.

“Feet!” You reminded him loudly, throwing the front door closed.

Your roommate removed his feet from the coffee table, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees instead. He kept his eyes on the TV screen as you walked by. “So where were you?”

“I told you, I had lunch with my parents.”

“All night?” He snorted.

“You’re a smart boy, I’m sure you can figure it out.”

You went into your room to change out of your outfit from yesterday. You had already showered at Kun’s place but definitely needed some fresh clothes. Emerging from your room in a new set of pajamas, you plopped down onto the couch and stretched your legs into Mark’s lap.

“You usually give me a heads-up in case the guy’s an axe murderer,” Mark commented, shifting to accommodate your feet. “Were you wearing a crew hoodie for the venue when you walked in?”

“We work there?” You pointed out rather than admitting that it was actually Kun’s. “Anyway, sorry I forgot to text you. He wasn’t an axe murderer, by the way.”

“Figured as much when you came back with your head attached.”

When his character onscreen died, you snickered. “You suck.”

He turned the TV off, sitting back as he asked, “How’d lunch go?”

“Awful. They finally said the quiet part out loud: They think I’m a failure and will never support me doing this,” you sighed.

Mark winced, but nodded sympathetically, more than familiar with your strained family relationship. “Damn, I’m sorry, Y/N. I really thought they would’ve come around by now.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, it fucking sucks. But we’re really good, even if they’ll never come to a show.”

“Hell yeah!” He offered a hand out, and you smacked yours against it in a resounding high-five. “Ooh, hey, a couple of the guys from RFE told me about this guitar shop that I wanted to check out. Do you want to come? We can get dinner after?”

“Sure.”

Rock music played over the speakers of the guitar shop, guitars of all shapes and sizes covered the walls and displays, accented by the neon lights lining the floors and ceiling. You meandered with Mark, letting him gasp and gush over the instruments as you kept your hands to yourself, looking at the cool variety that was in stock.

“Anything in particular you guys are looking for?” The man that had been sat behind the glass counter called out as your path through the store brought you closer.

When you turned to look at him over your shoulder, intending to let him know that you all were just looking, he lifted his head from where he had been replacing the string on an acoustic guitar, shifting his long hair from his face and granting you your first good look at his features. He had large sunglasses perched on his head, dark makeup around his eyes, his nails painted black, and thanks to the black bleach tie-dyed tank top he wore, you could see the chain and lock tattoo going around one of his biceps.

You screeched to a halt, desperately smacking Mark to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Your friend yelled and fought back, swatting at your hand. “Dude, what the hell?”

The worker was still looking at you, amused confusion on his face as he tilted his head curiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, this might be weird—Were you in a band like ten years ago?” You asked hesitantly, despite being very sure of the answer yourself.

Whatever he thought was going on, he clearly hadn’t been expecting that, looking pleasantly surprised as he sat up a bit straighter on his stool. “Yeah, actually. I—”

“You played bass, and your band was called Vizions,” you finished. “Yuta.”

Yuta chuckled. “Right on the money.”

“Seriously?” Mark’s eyes were popping out of his head.

“We saw you guys perform a few times, actually.” You pointed between you and your friend. “In like, high school.”

“High school?” Yuta must have had the same realization that Kun did, but just smirked. “Cool. You guys are actually not going to believe this, hold on—” He stood up, leaning over the counter to yell out towards another section of the store, “Hey! C’mere!”

A few moments later, another man came around the corner, looking a bit out of place. He was wearing a rainbow pastel checkered sweatervest over a white button-up shirt, with brown corduroy pants and sensible-looking tennis shoes. His light brown hair had soft waves as it was neatly cut and styled, and he pushed a pair of square clear-framed glasses up the bridge of nose. As he stopped at the counter near you, Mark, and Yuta, you could faintly make out the faded marks where he had let piercings close up in his eyebrows, nose, along the cartilage of his ears, and a few open ones on his earlobes that had no jewelry in them. The change in style threw you off for an extra second, but seeing him next to Yuta gave you enough context to place his face as well.

“TY!” You immediately named the newcomer.

He startled, but his features were immediately overcome by a bashful smile, blushing from his ears to his neck. “Please, Taeyong. Nobody calls me that anymore.”

“Right, sorry…”

“It’s fine…?”

“Oh, Y/N, and Mark,” you introduced both of you.

“They used to go to our gigs when they were in high school,” Yuta informed Taeyong with a grin.

Taeyong paused on this, letting out a short sigh. “As a teacher, I will say that I can’t condone that anymore… but we may or may not have had fakes in high school as well.”

You perked up. “You’re a teacher now?”

“Yes, I teach music at a primary school.”

“I own this place,” Yuta added, gesturing to the guitar store. “Do some songwriting on the side.”

“That’s so cool that you guys still do music stuff!” You said brightly.

“We’re not the only ones,” Taeyong said. “Kun, our keyboardist, he works at a music venue. The other two, not so much. Johnny, our drummer, he’s a tattoo artist, but he goes to so many gigs it’s like he never left the scene. And then Jaehyun…”

Both of them laughed, and you and Mark exchanged a glance as you were on the outside of the joke.

Taeyong continued, “Stay at home father of four.”

“That’s fucking crazy.” Mark shook his head.

“Well, that’s pretty much why Vizions is no more,” Yuta explained. “Jaehyun’s girlfriend got pregnant, and he wanted to be a dad more than he wanted to be a rockstar. We decided that was a good place to call it, and started doing our own stuff.”

You shot Mark a look. “If you leave the band because you knock a girl up, I’m going to kill you.”

He held his hands up defensively. “Woah! So not called for! And who was at some mystery guy’s house last night?”

“Shut up!”

“You brought it up first!”

Taeyong cut into your squabbling, “You guys have a band?”

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Doing this Again!’” You answered brightly, jabbing your elbow into Mark’s side to make sure he knew that you had won. “I play keys and do some vocals.”

“I play guitar and sing,” Mark added through gritted teeth. “We’ve got another guitar, drummer, and bass.”

“You got any upcoming shows?” Yuta asked.

“We uh, we actually have a recurring slot at Venue:Hell every other week,” you answered. “We rotate out with another band, Roses for Eyes. Our next set is this Thursday, but there’s a special event next month, Retro Rewind.”

Taeyong and Yuta exchanged a confused look before the shop owner spoke up. “Wait, Kun’s place?”

“Yeah, he’s the manager.”

“Have you told him you know about our band?”

You nodded. “He signed my CD.”

“You should’ve brought it,” Mark clicked his tongue regretfully.

“You still have one of our albums?!” Taeyong’s eyes went wide.

“She’s obsessed,” your roommate muttered.

“Shut up, no I’m not,” you hissed back, smacking his arm this time. “You say that like your first electric guitar wasn’t the same kind Taeyong had because you—”

Mark slapped a hand over your mouth. “It’s a good guitar!”

You stuck your tongue out, and he immediately jerked his hand back, wiping it on his pants. “Gross! God knows where that thing was last night. Do I need to get a shot or something?”

“I’m going to shave your head in your sleep.”

You entered the green room just enough to toss your bag onto the couch, then pivoted right around. “Be back!”

“Where are you going?” Jungwoo called after you.

“To piss!”

Walking right past the bathroom, you stopped outside the closed admin office door, knocking on it eagerly.

“If you’re Yangyang, figure it out yourself!” Kun’s annoyed voice rang out from inside.

You poked your head in, offering him a sheepish smile. “Bad time?”

The peeved look on his face faded, and he waved you in with a tired smile. “No, not at all. Perfect timing, actually.”

“Why’s that?” You quietly closed the door behind you, moving to lean against the desk.

“I was stressed out, and seeing you makes me feel better.”

“You’re in the same clothes as when I brought you lunch yesterday,” you observed suspiciously, then looked over at the rumpled pillow and blanket on the futon. “Did you sleep here?”

“We had these back-to-back events—”

“You live a block away!”

“I went home to shower—”

“But you couldn’t grab a change of clothes while you were there? Or sleep there?”

He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “Old habits, I guess.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

“After Vizions, when I first got hired, business at the venue wasn’t really great. The owner at the time let me crash here until I could afford my own place.” He stared at the old futon and chuckled, “Turns out the venue was failing because the owner was keeping everything for himself. When the current owners took over, they started paying me a living wage and suddenly I had an apartment and a real mattress.”

“Kun.”

He turned his gaze from the piece of furniture up to you. “Hm?”

“That’s not your life anymore,” you told him firmly. “No shitty boss, no shitty futon, none of that.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed, then a sly smirk creeped across his lips. “I might be more inclined to sleep in my own bed if I had a pretty girl in it, though.”

“A pretty girl?” You echoed pointedly.

“Just one.” Kun picked up your hand to kiss the back of it. “Just you, pretty girl.”

“Are you closing?”

“Mhm. I can give you my key if you don’t want to wait around here after your set.”

“Is it a dance night?”

“Mhm.”

You closed your eyes as you thought, enjoying the feeling of him pressing more kisses to your hand and fingers. “I’ll hang out.”

“Can’t wait.”

When your eyes fluttered open, they landed on the futon again, and your mind was still stuck in that bygone era that Kun had told you about, after his band broke up. You squeezed his hand to get his attention. “I forgot to tell you—Mark and I went to this guitar shop the other day.”

Kun sat up to look at you as you spoke, keeping a gentle hold on your hand. “Oh yeah? He get anything?”

“A new capo, but uh, the shop was actually owned by Yuta.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“And Taeyong was there too.”

“A two-for-one, huh? Lucky you,” he laughed, easing back into his office chair again. “I think you’re just missing Jaehyun now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Kun, why did you make it sound like your band broke up because you guys didn’t make it? They told us about Jaehyun having kids…”

“It never felt right to me to blame the kids, or even Jaehyun.” Kun ran a hand through his hair.

You frowned. “I don’t think it’s blaming anybody to say that he wanted to be a dad more than he wanted to be a rockstar. That’s just… what being a person is like. One day you want to be one thing, and then something happens and you want to be something else.”

“You make some good points,” he admitted. “I’ve never thought of it like that.”

“Not just a pretty face, hm?” You teased, getting to your feet.

He stood up as well, pecking your cheek. “Never said you were, baby. Beauty and brains, of course.”

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours. As his mouth moved with yours sweetly, one of his hands cupped your cheek, the cool metal of his rings resting against your skin. A timid knock came at the closed door, and he let out a low groan against your lips. As Kun pulled back to address whoever was at the door, you peppered barely-there kisses along his jaw and neck.

“If you’re Yangyang, fuck off!” He called out, grip tightening on your hip when you nipped just above the collar of his venue crew t-shirt, on the front of his throat.

“No, not Yangyang,” Yangyang replied, his voice garbled as he deepened it in an attempt to disguise it. “Uh, I’m uhm, Sicheng! Yangyang wanted me to ask you about—” He was cut off by a hacking cough, then resumed in his normal voice, though a little strained, “Fuck! God! How does he do that? Felt like I was deepthroating my own tongue! Ugh!”

You burst into laughter, immediately trying to muffle it behind your hands.

“Woah! You got a girl in there, Kun?” His shit-eating grin was audible through the door. “We always joked about what the futon was for, but I didn’t know you got down like that, old man! Do you want me to leave? ‘Cause like—”

“Yes, I would like for you to leave because you are giving me a migraine!” Kun finally cut him off loudly.

“Alright, alright! Don’t need to tell me twice!” Yangyang acquiesced. “Doing this Again is going to start their soundcheck soon, so maybe keep it down? Or don’t, it should actually be the perfect cover for any—”

“Liu Yangyang!”

“Bye!”

Finally, you could hear the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hallway, and lowered your hand from your mouth, letting out a few giggles. Kun wiped his face from forehead to chin, red with anger. You could even spot a vein on his neck that wasn’t always visible.

“I’m going to kill that boy one day,” he swore, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think I understand vampires now.”

He blinked at you. “What?”

You poked his neck vein. “I get it…”

He grabbed your hand with both of his, bringing it down, away from his neck. “And on that very normal note, pretty girl, you have a soundcheck to do.”

“You love that I’m extremely normal and say very normal things,” you teased, heading towards the door.

Before you could make it, he tugged on your hand, bringing you back into his arms. He dipped his head to attach his lips to your neck, teeth finding a spot that had already been fading. He finished it off with one last tender kiss to the area.

“There,” he murmured. “We can match.”

“I am definitely late for soundcheck now,” you whispered, reaching for the doorknob behind you with one hand even as you pulled him in for one more kiss with the other.

“Have fun, baby.”

With one last peck, you opened the office door and slipped out. Amazingly, you didn’t bump into Yangyang in the hallway. Instead, you quite literally tripped over him turning the corner out of the hallway and into the main floor area.

“Shit! Sorry, Yang!” You apologized as you stumbled over the employee who was squatted down behind the wall.

“Wait, Y/N?!” He didn’t even seem to care that you had just knocked him to the floor, scrambling to get to his feet and follow you as you hurried towards the stage.

The rest of your band was already set up for soundcheck, tuning their instruments and making other tweaks.

“Bathroom’s over there,” Chenle deadpanned into his mic, pointing to the ladies’ room on the opposite side of the floor.

“I peed and then got caught up talking to Kun.” You jumped up onto the stage, grabbing your in-ears and pack that somebody had already gotten out for you. “You see, people can travel from one place to another using these things attached to our torsos called legs.”

Jisung giggled from behind you as Chenle rolled his eyes. Yangyang was still looking between you and the hallway, obviously bewildered.

“You were in there when I was talking to him?” Yangyang asked, face screwed up in confusion.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There wasn’t anything for me to say?” You retorted, putting in one of your in-ears. “He was pissed at you, dude.”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Retro Rewind.”

Jungwoo interrupted, “As thrilling as this play-by-play of Y/N’s conversation with Kun is, we’ve really got to start our soundcheck, Yang.”

“Sorry, yeah.” Yangyang shook his head, jumping over the ropes that served to divide the main floor from the crew-only entrance to backstage. He disappeared behind the curtain, emerging by his sound equipment just off-stage.

“Pizza?” Jisung suggested hopefully as soon as you all stumbled into the green room off the stage.

A chorus of agreeable sounds—varying from cheers to grunts—came from around the room, a new rush of energy pumping through your friends at the mention of food.

You packed your bag, but didn’t put your two cents in on the prospective pizza order. They ended up split on what restaurant to go to, and looked to you to be the tiebreaker.

You held your hands up. “I’m hanging out here. You guys will just have to play rock-paper-scissors or something.”

“You’re staying here?” Jungwoo cocked his head curiously.

“And I won’t be home tonight,” you told Mark specifically.

Mark’s jaw dropped. “He’s here?!”

“Who?” “What?” “Who are you talking about?” “Huh?” The others clambered around you two for a scrap of context.

“Y/N has been seeing a mystery guy who she swears is not an axe murderer, but she refuses to tell me anything about,” your roommate narrowed his eyes at you.

“God, it hasn’t even been a week, and you wonder why I don’t want to tell you anything,” you scoffed.

“Uh, sorry I don’t want you to get axe murdered, dude?”

“If I get axe murdered, you can get up at my funeral and say ‘I told her so.’”

“Come on.” It was surprisingly Chenle who saved you, grabbing Mark’s backpack and yanking him away from you. “I’m hungry and you’re taking too long.”

“Dude!”

Mark flailed as Jungwoo joined in, taking Mark’s hand in his to drag him along too. “Pizza!”

Jisung gave you a quiet wave goodbye as he followed the others, leaving you in a remarkably silent green room. You let out a deep sigh to calm yourself down, then walked out as well. Your bandmates made quick work of hauling Mark out, as you didn’t see or hear any of them when you stepped into the main floor. Keeping close to the wall, you sneaked around to the back office, intending on dropping off your bag before finding Kun. Instead, you found Yangyang in the office, nosing around for something.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You asked, plopping your bag onto the empty office chair.

Yangyang shot to his feet, spinning around to flash you an obviously guilty smile. “Oh, you’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m hanging out for a bit,” you replied noncommittally. “What are you doing?”

“Close the door?”

You obliged, stepping and shutting the office door behind you. “Okay?”

“Promise not to tell Kun?”

“What are you doing? Booby trapping his office?”

“No, it’s not April Fools yet.”

“You’re going to booby trap his office for April Fools?”

“Pff, no!”

You arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “So what are you doing now?”

“Looking for proof,” he whispered, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve worked here for like three years and the old man’s never had a partner, talked about going on dates, brought anybody around, nothing. Now, in one week, he’s been late to work, come to work with hickeys, had somebody bring him food, has been smiling down at his phone instead of rolling his eyes at it—He’s humming, for fuck’s sake, Y/N! Humming! I’ve never seen him consistently in such a good mood since… ever!”

“Maybe that’s just because you piss him off all the time,” you pointed out.

“But the rest of it!”

“What kind of proof do you think you’re going to find in the office? His diary?” You snorted.

“Ooh, you think?”

You stared at him.

“You’re fucking with me,” he realized. “That’s not funny.”

You were already giggling. “It really is.”

Yangyang pushed the rolling chair out of the way to wake the computer up, cursing when he saw that it was locked.

“Anyway, why are you so pressed about Kun’s love life?” You questioned, watching Yangyang type in wrong password after wrong password.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked. “I know you haven’t worked here as long, but the man is an enigma. After three years, I feel like I know as much about him as I did on my first day.”

“Have you tried talking to him? Since you’re so curious?”

“Have you?” He retorted, then his face lit up like he’d gotten an idea. He turned away from the computer that he still hadn’t unlocked. “Actually, you do talk to Kun, right? About like, your weekly slot and stuff at least, right?”

“Yeah…?” You answered hesitantly, unsure of where he was going with this.

Yangyang suddenly lunged forward to grab both your hands, smushing them between his as he pleaded with you. “Can you find out for us if he’s seeing anybody? Like, not be super obvious, but try to see if he’ll bring it up? Or say something about them?”

“‘Us?’” You repeated the one word that had caught your attention. “I take it the rest of the crew are in on this too?”

His eyes widened as he seemed to have realized his slip-up, then he grinned. “You’re clever, Kun won’t stand a chance. Thanks!”

“I didn’t say yes!” You yelled after him as he ran out of the office.

With a shake of your head, you walked out of the office as well, quietly shutting the door. Out on the main floor, you milled around for a little bit, ordering a drink from Sicheng at the bar before chatting with a few venue regulars about this and that.

“I’m excited for Retro Rewind,” Sunny, a regular who was a little younger than you, buzzed with excitement, and maybe a bit too much alcohol. “I love seeing you guys and Roses on the same night!” She suddenly gasped. “You should totally do a collab song or something! That would be fucking awesome!”

You laughed, endeared by her enthusiasm as always. “Could be fun. Those guys are pretty cool.”

“Oh my god, don’t look, but he’s totally looking over here!” Tsuki, the other regular that you were talking to, whisper-shouted over the music, grabbing her friend’s arm.

Sunny immediately whipped her head around rather obviously. You also peered around a bit more inconspicuously, curious as to who they were talking about. Sunny must have spotted whoever it was, as she squeaked and ducked her head again. The only person you met eyes with was Kun, who had finally stopped running around and was now calmly watching over the crowd from the back wall. You gave him a little smile before turning back to the two squealing girls in front of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, swirling your drink around in your glass then taking a sip.

“Sunny thinks the manager is cute,” Tsuki giggled, much to the chagrin of her friend, who belatedly smacked a hand over her mouth.

You choked on the sip that you had just taken, barely avoiding snorting it back out your nose. Thumping yourself on the chest, you managed to swallow it down instead of doing a spit take all over the patrons. Tsuki only laughed even harder as Sunny covered her face.

“You didn’t have to laugh that much,” Sunny whined.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized quickly. “Not laughing, just uh, just went down the wrong pipe.”

“She’s just sensitive because I like to tease her about how she comes to a music venue and doesn’t even look at any of the acts, she looks at the manager,” Tsuki explained.

“It’s called practicality!” Sunny huffed, then looked at you hopefully. “Is he single? Do you know?”

“W-Well…” You stammered, trying to figure out what the hell you were even supposed to say right now.

“Oh, he’s totally like, married with five kids or something,” Tsuki snickered, making Sunny even more distraught.

“He doesn’t have a wedding ring!” Sunny argued.

Finally, you decided to go with, “He’s seeing someone.” At the way the girl’s face immediately fell, you awkwardly added, “Sorry, Sunny…”

Tsuki wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Sunny mumbled, “‘S fine, he wasn’t even that cute.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” her friend murmured supportively, patting her on the head. Tsuki looked up at you with a knowing smile. “I think we’re going to get another drink. Thanks for hanging out with us, Y/N.”

“You’re really fucking cool,” Sunny sighed, squeezing your hand as she let Tsuki guide her away.

Skimming your eyes over the crowd, you made eye contact with Kun again, still monitoring the room. You slid off your stool at the bar and shouldered your way through the crowd until you could sidle right up next to him. Leaning back against the wall, you propped up one foot, taking another sip of your drink and watching the crowd too.

“Found Yangyang snooping through the office earlier,” you informed him.

Kun groaned, letting his head drop back against the concrete wall with a thunk. “Do I need to check my chair for thumbtacks now or some shit?”

“That’s what I thought too, but you’re safe until April Fools.”

“So what was he doing today?”

“Looking for proof that you’re seeing someone.”

“And did he find any?”

“Nope. Well, technically yes, since I was in there, but he didn’t realize it,” you said with a grin. “He recruited me to try to covertly get information about it from you.”

“Kid’s a fucking idiot.”

“Not completely, the reasons he gave as to why he thinks you’re seeing someone were pretty observant.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Let’s see… Hickeys, you’ve been late to work, had a mysterious person bring you food, and are apparently smiling at your phone and humming.” You listed them off on the fingers of one hand. “I think if he doesn’t find proof of you seeing someone, Yang is going to start doomsday prepping.”

He rolled his eyes. “He needs a hobby.”

“Maybe he should take up crochet or something.”

“Anything to keep him out of my business.” Kun crossed his arms over his chest. “Is everything okay with those regulars you were talking to?”

“Sunny and Tsuki?” You tried to find them in the crowd, spotting them sitting in stools that they had scooted together at the bar, Sunny already looking much livelier again. “Yeah, I think she’ll be fine.”

“Good. What was it? Too much to drink?”

“Probably a little of that.” You leaned in towards him, your shoulder pressing against his as you lowered your voice, “She asked me if you were single.”

“Wait, really?” Puffs of air washed over your cheek as he chuckled.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Sorry—What did you say?” There was still a curl of humor in his tone.

“I said you were seeing someone.” You squinted at him as he started laughing again. “What?”

“Not laughing at you, baby, sorry,” he said through chuckles, his hand that was closer to the wall sneaking under your jacket and pulling you closer by the hip. “Just thinking about how many guys have asked me or the other staff about you. It’s kinda funny that it happened to you.”

“Oh? And what did you tell them?”

“That it’s against our policy to give out private information on our talent, of course.”

“Ooh, how professional,” you teased, biting on your straw.

“I am nothing if not a professional,” he smiled, thumb running over the skin just above your waistband.

You checked the time. “Only half an hour left.”

“Counting the minutes, pretty girl?”

“Until I’ve got you all to myself? Shamelessly.”

“Me too.” He looked at his watch. “Twenty-nine minutes.”

You let out a melodramatic sigh, looking around at where the other venue staff were. There was no line at the merch counter, Ten scrolling on his phone with his feet kicked up. “I’m going to go bother Ten for a bit. I’m afraid this drink is starting to taste like I should kiss you stupid right now.”

Kun tightened his hold on your hip, reaching for your drink. “Can I?”

You let him take the half-empty glass. He shook it first, the ice cubes clinking around, then he drank from the rim. A small sip, then another one. He tilted his head back and forth, humming thoughtfully before nodding, “You’re right. It does taste like that.”

That was all the permission you needed, grabbing his face with two hands and eagerly connecting your lips. He still tasted like your slightly sweet drink, and you greedily took kiss after kiss, biting down on his bottom lip. Kun groaned softly into your mouth, letting his thumb dip below your waistband then back up. Your head was spinning as your blood roared in your ears and you wished he’d just drop the fucking drink to have both hands on you, shattered glass and spilled alcohol be damned.

To his credit, he didn’t drop the glass, even when you suddenly pushed him back against the wall, kissing the column of his throat instead. When you lightly bit at an unmarred spot, he hissed and laughed, pinching your side.

“You were serious about that vampire thing, huh?” He teased. “Menace.”

“Who, me?” You asked innocently, taking the drink back and finishing it off.

He chuckled, using two hands on your hips to turn the two of you around, pressing you back against the wall now. Your free hand bunched the fabric of the front of his shirt, pulling his mouth to yours again. Kun had just grabbed your chin with one hand, tongue entwining with yours, when you felt him suddenly turn away from you. You instinctually whined at the loss, trying to pull at his shoulder as your eyes fluttered open, pout already forming on your kiss-swollen lips.

“—just can’t play grab-ass here, guys.” You caught the tail-end of what Yangyang was saying as he seemed to be giving some pre-rehearsed spiel, his eyes squeezed closed as he talked. Once he was finished, he opened his eyes, immediately jumping back as he registered who exactly he was talking to, “Jesus Christ! Ahh! What the hell?! What the fuck?!”

“Shut up.” Kun scowled at him.

“No?!” Yangyang replied indignantly. “What are you doing?!”

“Telling you to shut up.”

“Y/N!” The sound tech looked at you next, horrified. “You really want to do this?”

“Excuse me?” Kun snorted.

“Kun, come on dude, you’re better than this—”

“Excuse me?!” You pushed past Kun, fully intending on giving Yangyang a shiner.

Kun held you back, but you could tell that he was getting pissed too. “Yangyang, what exactly do you think is going on?”

“You’re cheating on your new girl with Y/N!” Yangyang gestured wildly. “Y/N, I totally thought you were a girl’s girl, by the way—”

“Shut up!” Kun yelled, loud enough that a few patrons even looked over. He glared at his employee, “You’re an idiot. I’m not cheating on anybody with Y/N.”

His face screwed up with confusion. “So you’re not seeing anybody? Then what was all—”

“It’s me!” You finally blurted out. “He’s seeing me! We’re seeing each other! Fucking Christ, Yang, you saw us making out and can’t process that?”

Yangyang blinked at you. “But he’s so… old?”

This time you had to grab Kun’s arm to keep him from doing something, and the sound tech skittered back a couple more steps.

“Go away, Yangyang,” Kun demanded sharply.

“God, can’t believe the couple Ten asked me to break up was you guys,” he shuddered, walking off.

You and Kun exchanged a knowing look. “Definitely not a coincidence…” You scoffed.

Looking back to the merch counter, you saw Ten wiping tears from his undereye, still laughing as he held onto the counter for stability.

“Does Ten have a car?” You asked.

“Yes, why?”

“I want to key it.”

Kun laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “As fun as that would be, how about I schedule him and Yangyang for back-to-back closing-opening shifts for a full week next month instead?”

“Oh, boo.” You let out a huff, leaning back against him affectionately. “Vandalism and property damage would’ve been so cathartic.”

He kissed your cheek apologetically. “I know, baby, I’m sorry.”

You were gently pulled out of sleep by a quiet tune and fingertips skimming over your forearm. Yawning, you squinted an eye open, watching Kun’s fingers trace the lines of your tattoos. With your mind still foggy with sleep, you listened to what he was humming.

“Hey…” You mumbled, shifting onto your back.

“Hey,” he repeated humorously, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“You were humming it again.” You rubbed your eye.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. That song…” You frowned. “It’s not from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hm.” You repeated the tune, your throat a little scratchy this early in the morning. “It’s nice.”

“You think?”

Rolling over, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mhm.”

Kun rested a hand on your back. “Your phone was going off, by the way. You were still sleeping, I put it on silent, hope you don’t mind.”

You let out a big sigh, blindly reaching out towards the nightstand where your phone was. He grabbed it for you, placing it in your seeking hand. Turning your head just enough to see your phone screen, you saw three missed calls from Mark and a text.

“He better be dead,” you groaned. “Or I’m going to kill him.”

Opening the text, you saw that it was only one word, and from around two a.m., several hours before the phone calls.

[mark: KUN????????????????????????????]

[you: wrong number?]

You decided that you’d call him back if he didn’t text back in ten minutes.

That determination was useless, however, as he almost immediately called you. You declined it, texting him instead.

[you: DUDE are you fucking dying or something??]

[mark: the axe murderer is KUN????????]

[you: did yangyang text the whole venue gc or smth???]

[you: also he’s not an axe murderer jfc]

Another incoming call, which you once again declined.

[you: im going to block you if you keep calling me]

[mark: ARE YOU WITH HIM RN?!!!!?!??!?!?!]

[you: girl where tf else would i be? i told you i wasn’t coming home]

[mark: ok i did a few calming breaths]

[mark: idk what ur talking abt w yangyang but we figured it out at pizza last night. chenle saw ur FRESH HICKEY AFTER COMING OUT OF KUNS OFFICE]

[you: i hate to sound like my parents rn but maybe u guys actually should get real jobs and leave me tf alone]

[you: average unemployed friend behavior tbh]

[mark: bro the call is coming from inside the unemployment office??]

[you: actually it’s coming from kun’s bed rn xx]

Finally, your phone was silent, and you harshly dropped it back onto the nightstand. You only had a few moments of peace before a different ringer was going off. Letting out a guttural groan, you smushed your face into your pillow as Kun reached over you to grab his phone.

“Morning, Mark,” he answered, sounding very amused.

Your head snapped up automatically, eyes going wide with fear at whatever the hell your friend was saying. Kun rested one of his hands behind his head as he leaned back against his headboard, listening with interest.

“Oh, I thought you had a question about work,” he said with a grin. “You know, it’s against our policy to give out private information about our talent.”

You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head.

“Mhm, see you, Mark.”

As Kun set his phone back down, you lamented into your palms, “So much for keeping it private at first.”

“Yeah, I think we forfeited that last night,” he reminded you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You took your face out of your hands to properly argue. “Not my fault you looked like that.”

“I thought it was the drink?”

“Mm, both.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, did I mention that I’m off today?”

“All day?” You looked at him hopefully.

“All day,” he confirmed. “I don’t have to be back at the venue until tomorrow night.”

“We’re practicing our Retro Rewind set later, but other than that, I’m free today too.” You beamed. “Can we go somewhere?”

“Somewhere?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Somewhere other than the venue or your apartment.”

“I do have some errands to run…” Kun mused. “Groceries, the laundromat, I have a package to drop off at the post office—”

“No, I mean like a real date!”

“There we go, just wanted you to use your words, baby,” he snickered, pinching your bottom lip. “You’re pouting.”

“You’re being mean to me.” You rolled onto your back, your elbows getting tired from propping up your head for that long.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” He leaned down to kiss you. “Get dressed, I know where to take you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Not the grocery store, laundromat, or post office?”

“A real date, I promise.”

The destination Kun had in mind was apparently within walking distance, as the two of you took off down the sidewalks hand-in-hand.

“So what’s your day job?” He asked.

You weren’t expecting that. “What?”

“What do you do when you’re not doing music? You know, to pay rent and stuff?”

“Oh, I work with a temp agency and a babysitting agency. Picking up gigs here and there, you know?”

He almost seemed amused. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You touched your nose jewelry habitually. “I know I don’t look like your average office worker or childcare professional, but I clean up good, okay? Take out the nose ring and eyebrow piercing, put on some longsleeves, they never know. That’s why I don’t dye my hair crazy colors.”

“What sort of places have you temped at?”

“Lots of different places.” You hummed as you thought through a brief list of the various businesses that you’d worked at. “I usually do their filing, answer phones, that kind of stuff. I’m really only there for a few weeks at a time. I think the longest place I worked at was for… three or four months? That was actually at a music studio, so it was pretty cool.”

“Meet anybody cool?”

“There were some big names that came through. I got everyone’s coffee.” You shook your head, then looked at Kun curiously. “Have you ever thought about working somewhere other than the venue?”

“Oh, plenty of times,” he sighed. His face turned contemplative as he went on to admit, “I didn’t tell you the whole truth before. I tried to get back into songwriting and composing dozens of times over the years. I tried everything, every process out there, every tip and trick I could find—nothing. I couldn’t even remix our old tracks into something palatable. The staff at the venue only know I used to play the keyboard because when I finally gave up, I sold mine to Dejun.”

You couldn’t help the frown on your face when he described the creative block he had faced. “When was that?”

“Three, maybe four years ago now?” He seemed much less perturbed by it than you, like he had long accepted his fate. “I like working at the venue because I like being in the scene, even if I can’t contribute anything new to it.”

“That tune that you’ve been humming—”

“—Is not going to go anywhere. That happened before. I would think I had something, but as soon as I sat down to write, nothing,” he insisted calmly. “It’s fine.”

“So you just… got rid of everything?”

“It’s not like I denounced music forever,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “Just changed my focus.”

You thought about your own band, about all the half-written songs in your notes that you were working on, the demos you had recorded on your phone that you hoped to release someday. Would you let it all go one day too?

“We’re here,” Kun announced, gesturing to the business you had found yourself in front of.

“Mini golf?” You strained to read the faded sign.

“Unless it’s not good enough. I mean, I’ve got a long list of things that aren’t the post office…”

“No, Kun, this is perfect,” you laughed. “Let’s do it.”

“Great.” He smiled, pecking your cheek before grabbing the front door for you.

Tonight was Retro Rewind, and the venue was abuzz with excitement. Doing this Again! was opening, and you were on stage waiting for the rest of your band to join you for your soundcheck. The staff were all bustling around getting set up, and you were at your keyboard, absorbed in your own world as you played around with a tune that had been stuck in your head.

Kun slowed to a stop in front of you, taking his headset off to listen with fascination. “That’s…”

“The tune you were humming. Plus some other stuff,” you confirmed, pausing your playing for the moment. “I figured since you weren’t going to do anything with it… I started messing around with it.” You jerked your head for him to join you. “C’mere.”

He obliged, hopping up on stage and letting you drag him behind your keyboard with you as you explained your idea. “I think it’ll be better layered. Can you play it an octave down?”

To your relief and delight, he didn’t argue, hands immediately finding familiar places on the keys to your left. As both of you started playing, you listened carefully.

“Mm… A step down?” You requested, and he immediately complied. You grinned. “Hell yeah.”

“And then it’s…” He trailed off as he followed your lead into the part that you had added onto his tune, playing it entirely by ear.

“Mhm, and then I was thinking you repeat and I would—”

He did as you said, repeating the melody as you added even more on top, making him absolutely beam. “Alright!”

“But then I get stuck there.” You frowned and took your hands off the keys. “On the bridge.”

“That little flair you had going…” Kun said carefully. “If you slowed it down, and dropped it a full octave…” He played a portion of your part again on his half of the keyboard exactly as he had described. “Could be something.”

“Play it again?”

“Mm?” He made an indicative noise as he went to do so.

You listened and contemplated it, slowly nodding. “Yeah, I liked that. Really moody.”

“You got any lyrics yet?”

“Nah, just messin’ with it.” You started from the beginning again. “If that’s alright with you. I was planning on having more to show you when I asked your permission to make a real song with your tune.”

Kun blinked at you, his hands sliding off the keys and hanging by his sides as he stared at you with wonder. “You really… want to?”

“Yeah, of course.” Your head bounced to the beat as you skipped to the moody bridge that he had just suggested. “I really like this, the more I hear it. That was a good—ack!”

Discordant notes rang out as Kun had surprised you by throwing his arms around you. You took a step back to stay upright, wrapping your arms around him too, rubbing his back.

“Uh, hi?” You murmured uncertainly.

“Yes, you have my permission. I-I’d be over the moon.” He cupped your cheeks, eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “God, you’re so perfect, baby.”

You let out a sputtering laugh, ducking your head as your face heated up from his adoring gaze. “Kun, fucking hell, you’ve got to warn me.”

“You never warn me.”

“Before doing what?”

“This.”

“Eh?!” You made an indignant noise, looking around at your general demeanor. “What am I doing? Breathing?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Okay, I can’t warn you every time I breathe.”

He snickered, giving you a quick peck. You huffed, immediately leaning back in for another, longer kiss, hooking one arm around his neck.

Giving a final wave to the audience, you ran off the stage arm-in-arm with Jungwoo, laughing and grinning madly. Your bandmates all followed, hugging and cheering. You all couldn’t take up space there for too long though as the next act got ready to go on. You hastily gave Roses for Eyes your best before heading further backstage. Chenle, Jungwoo, and Mark packed up their instruments and idly chatted with a couple of the acts that were hanging out in the cramped space. Everybody was sharing what instruments they could, meaning that the drumset and keyboard were staying onstage, which made yours and Jisung’s lives a bit easier.

“We’re gonna go catch some of Roses’ set,” Mark announced to the room in general, tapping your arm in a silent indication for you to join the rest of them. A few of the other performers who wouldn’t be going on until later got up as well, and you fell into the group too.

When you got backstage, however, your eyes were habitually searching for someone, and you quietly slipped away. The office door was thrown open as soon as you got to it, and a breathless smile came to Kun’s face when he saw you.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you when you came off stage, but there were way too many people.” He pecked your forehead. “You did so good, baby.”

“Thanks.” You kissed him on the lips. “Do you have time to watch RFE’s set? Or—”

“Hey, sorry.” Ten’s head poked around the corner into the hallway. He pointed over his shoulder into the main room. “Uh, these guys are saying they know you?”

Kun offered you an apologetic look, stepping past you down the hall. “Sorry, everyone says they know the manager. I’ll be—”

“Not you.”

With Ten’s gaze focused on you, you pointed to yourself in surprise. “Me?”

He nodded. You exchanged a confused glance with Kun, but as soon as you saw one of their heads poking over Ten’s shoulder, your jaw dropped.

“Nono, it’s fine, Ten,” you informed him hastily. He stepped aside to let the gaggle of men in.

Kun was possibly even more baffled than you. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were invited,” Yuta informed him with a wide grin, gesturing to you.

“Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d actually come!” You bounced up and down with excitement, hugging him, then Taeyong, who was still in his kindly teacher attire.

Taeyong directed your attention to a figure at the back of the group. “We brought somebody.”

The man went to introduce himself, “Hey, I’m—”

“Jaehyun! Ah, sorry!” You slapped a hand over your mouth, thoroughly embarrassed.

“They said you might do that.” Jaehyun smirked, offering you a hand to shake. “It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N. You were awesome up there.”

“Thank you. It’s so cool to meet you.”

“Good to see you again, Y/N.” Johnny squeezed past Jaehyun to wrap you in a bearhug.

“Johnny! Hey!” Your greeting turned in a squeal of surprise as he lifted you off the ground. “Woah!”

Kun cleared his throat, appraising eye scanning over his former bandmates. “And uh, any particular reason I wasn’t told about this reunion?”

“We wanted to surprise you!” Taeyong explained as Johnny put you back down.

“Well, you succeeded,” Kun chuckled and crossed his arms, but you could tell that his smile didn’t reach his eyes, his gaze locked on where Johnny’s hand lingered on your back.

Giving Johnny one last friendly pat on the arm, you stepped back over to Kun’s side, eyes shining as you looked them all over. “Seriously, this is so cool. When was the last time you were all together?”

They looked at each other as they thought. Jaehyun asked, “It was probably for Juju’s birthday, right?” There were murmurs of agreement, and Jaehyun gave you a firm nod. “So, yeah, a couple months ago for my daughter’s fifth.”

“We’re going out after this, you guys should totally come!” You offered.

“Oh, your band?” Yuta surmised.

“The home team; us, Roses, some of the crew…” You trailed off, your eyes widening as soon as you realized your mistake. You winced as you turned to Kun, “Sorry, is that gonna be okay? I wasn’t thinking—”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “They all need something new to talk about anyway.”

The others exchanged a knowing look, Yuta pointing at Kun with a smile. “Mystery guy, I presume?”

“Wh—Ugh, you seriously remember that?” You groaned as Taeyong giggled behind his hand.

Kun glanced between the three of you, confusion apparent. “What?”

“When Mark and I went to his shop, Mark was freaking out about the ‘mystery guy’ I was seeing,” you explained. “I can’t believe you guys remember that.”

“You two were funny.” Yuta shrugged.

“Anyway, I think Roses for Eyes started their set,” Johnny cut in. “The drummer is one of my clients and I told him I would watch.”

Everyone acquiesced, starting to filter out of the cramped hallway and back to the main floor. You laced your fingers with Kun’s, making sure to not lose him in the crowd. He squeezed your hand back, following your lead.

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