String Me Along

His number is saved on her phone under ‘Choi YoungJae (GOT7).’

JooHyun laughed. “As if you know so many other YoungJae’s.”

It’s a far cry from the rest of her contact list of SeulBear and Jooooooooy with more emoticons than actual letters by each name. She almost adds ‘ssi’ at the end, only because he’s got this habit of tacking the suffix on at the end of hers when they spoke to each other.

“It’s so formal.” SooYoung complained.

SeungWan tucked the phone into her purse. “You make it sound like a bad thing!”

“Yeah.” JooHyun poked SooYoung’s arm, “It’s not like we all have pseudo-husbands we can have cute nicknames with.”

Naturally, SooYoung pretended to not hear that last part and refocused her attention to SeungWan.

“I’m just saying,” She said, “If he’s interested in you, shouldn’t he at least try to be more familiar with you?”

YeRim turned around in her seat then, glancing at SeungWan curiously to ask, “He is interested in you. Isn’t he?”

SeungWan opened . Then closed it. And then she frowned into the distance as the van started up while the others stared at her, anticipating.

“You know,” She admitted, “I...I’m not so sure…?”

She showed up on his phone as ‘Son SeungWan (Red Velvet).’

Jackson naturally hacks into his phone and deletes her group name because, “Come on YoungJae, at least try to be cute for this!” and “It’s not hacking when your password for everything is gotcoco!”

YoungJae has learned not to argue with Jackson, usually because it inevitably starts a domino-effect shouting match that no one in their apartment (or building) ever wins.

“Technology isn’t that advanced.”

“Hmm?” YoungJae glanced up to see JaeBum pulling on an old shirt. “What was that, hyung?”

“It can’t read your mind if you just stare at it.” Got7’s leader smirked, nodding at the phone in YoungJae’s hand. “You’re gonna have to write her a message on your own, you know.”

YoungJae scoffed and his phone tumbled out of his hands as he raised them upwards.

“Not everyone’s as good with words as you.” He didn’t sound petulant. At all. And his roommate didn’t give him his signature JaeBum Smirk™ at all either.

However, JaeBum considered that for a moment and then shrugged as he crawled into his bed, suggesting, “Then don’t use words.”

‘Choi YoungJae (GOT7)’s first message to her isn’t a message. Rather, it’s-

“A video?” YeRim looked skeptical. “That’s different.”

By ‘different’ Red Velvet’s maknae was referring to the fact that it wasn’t a single line variation of ‘What’s up?’ or ‘Where you at?’ at 2am that every other celebrity thought was remotely appealing or conducive to creating any kind of substantial relationship, platonic or otherwise.

SeungWan shrugged, honestly just grateful it wasn’t an picture. She mentally prayed it wasn’t an inappropriate video that would scar her bandmate and pressed ‘play.’

A slightly grainy image of Choi YoungJae (GOT7) came up on her screen, smiling slightly and waving into the camera. The background is instantly recognizable to her; he was at the practice room they met in (or perhaps all of JYP’s practice rooms looked the same). After a beat, the camera shifted to the black and white keys and SeungWan watched as his fingers danced across them for a minute or so before he finished with a flourish and the video ended.

An actual text message followed shortly after.

Do you think you could play this on your guitar too?

YeRim blinked. “…Is he serious?”

SeungWan clicked ‘play’ again. “I think so.”

“But…” YeRim frowned. “Did he send you the sheet music?”

“Doesn’t look like it.” SeungWan rose from the bed as YoungJae’s song rang from her phone once more.

Her bandmate scoffed. “Did he at least say what the title was?”

“Nope. I’m not sure if it even has one.”

“Well, then how-”

YeRim was cut off by some discordant chords, and she finally looked up from the video of Choi YoungJae (GOT7) playing the piano to see SeungWan adjusting one of the pegs at the head of her guitar.

 “Hang on.” SeungWan instructed, distractedly strumming a perfectly-tuned chord this time. Pick poised and ready, she nodded at her phone, determined. “Play it again. I think I’ve got it.”

JaeBum caught YoungJae’s sharp exhale.

“She got it.”

JB tried not to grin too much at the awe in YoungJae’s voice as the faint sounds of SeungWan’s guitar rang out from the phone’s speaker, a little different but ultimately the same as the tune that YoungJae sent her only a few days before. JaeBum nudged his knee.

“I can’t tell if you’re impressed or disappointed that she figured it out so quickly.”

“Yes.” YoungJae replied absentmindedly but it was to be expected because it had been a very early Taylor Swift song that didn’t get as much airplay and SeungWan was, of course, a talented girl. YoungJae smiled though, confidently saying, “I’ll just have to make the next one more challenging.”

Across the table, JinYoung mouthed ‘The next one?’ at JaeBum, who shrugged and shook his head to say ‘Don’t ask’ before yelling at BamBam and YuGyeom to stop playing with the food and just let it cook dammit. JinYoung had deemed the meat edible by the time YoungJae’s phone chirped with a new message and accompanying attachment.

Your turn. Received 8:43pm

YoungJae excused himself for the rest of dinner and JaeBum found him at his desk later that night, headphones on, playing around with a piano app and scribbling away at sheet paper with that razor-sharp intensity that JaeBum hadn’t seen on him since their manager announced that the newbie kid with less than a year of experience was joining their team.

He took a little longer to reply to her challenge, but he was in China for a tour and it was hard to work on music when he was sleeping in a new city every other night so she didn’t hold it against him…too much anyway.

You can tell me if it’s too hard for you. We can try something easier. Received 5:28pm

Have you heard of Barney by any chance? Received 5:29pm

YoungJae chuckled but he made up for it, though, sending her links and videos with short messages of ‘Look! Someone covered DumbDumb. I prefer Red Velvet’s version of course’ or ‘I thought you might like this’ and ‘BamBam knows literally every dance move to Ice Cream Cake. Would you like to take him off our hands?’

Soo tempting but we’ve got all the group members we need right now. Sent 2:19pm

SeulGi settled over her shoulder and commented, “You spend a lot of time on your phone these days.”

“What’s wrong my little bear?” SeungWan teased. “Are you getting jealous?”

SeulGi made the ugliest cute face she could. “Very.”

“Don’t worry.” SeungWan patted her roommate’s comfortingly. “You’re still my favorite.”

“I heard that!” JooHyun called out from the kitchen as another text came in.

JB says he’ll pay for the company transfer costs. Received 2:23pm

SeungWan twisted around and told their leader, “Got7 is trying to peddle off one of their members to us.” She grinned, “Can we keep him?”

JooHyun planted her hands on her hips, unmoved and said, “Not unless they’re housebroken” at the same time YeRim asked, “Ooh, which one??”

JooHyun tugged at YeRim’s ponytail, “What does it matter which one??”

“Well, we could use one of the taller ones to help out when we can’t reach high places,” Their maknae had the nerve to smirk, “And if it’s the one with the big arms, it can sleep at the foot of SeulGi’s bed.”

A pillow sailed in the air, YeRim took off running and SeungWan typed out another message.

Pass. But we’ll trade you a maknae for a leader if you want. Sent 2:28pm

He finished his reply at 1am on a weekday and she should’ve been irritated (not really), but she was still up anyway, sweating in a practice room and on the brink of setting the blue-sky paint on the walls on fire because she was supposed to be asleep dammit! So she actually didn’t get to hear it until much later, closer to 3 in the morning when she finally, finally collapsed onto her bed with that breathless, bone-weary kind of sigh you can only make when you’ve been thinking of sleep for the better part of half the day. She could hear the water running as SeulGi showered and her roommate’s distant singing reminded her of that one unread message from Choi YoungJae (GOT7) that she still hadn’t opened.

SeungWan hit play on the audio file he sent her and turned to nuzzle into her pillow.

‘Huh.’ She thought through her sleep-encroaching haze. ‘He slowed it down.’

She’d sent him a British pop song (in her own style of course) and he’d returned with something closer to a lullaby, not quite instrumental because he joined in to croon during the chorus, his English heavily accented but softer than his usual power-vocals, like he suspected she’d listen to it in the dead of night and didn’t want to assail her ears. The harmony of the twinkling keys and his voice brought her to brink of unconsciousness, but she managed to replay the file once more before her eyelids got too heavy.

SeulGi came in barely a minute later and took a moment to pause at the doorway to take it in; SeungWan fast asleep, YoungJae’s voice serenading her from the phone atop her pillow.

I’m right over here / Why can’t you see me

Oh oh oooh

I’m giving it my all / But I’m not the guy you’re taking home

SeungWan stirred just as she finished getting dressed…and SeulGi let YoungJae sing to her friend just once more for the night.

They went back and forth like that; challenging each other for weeks. One day it was a Korean ballad from the 80s, another time it’s an opening theme song for an anime the other’s never even heard of, and then a week later it’d be an instrumental version of an American R&B song that she blamed squarely on one of his elder bandmates’ influences.

There is no way you picked out The Thong Song on your own! Sent 10:35am

THAT’S WHAT IT WAS???? Received 11:02am

(“HYUNG! WHAT THE HELL??”)

And so on and so forth, until YoungJae’s phone notified him that You have used up all your storage. Please delete some files to make space on your drive. JinYoung jokingly suggested that he didn’t need to have that many photos of CoCo anyway…and nearly had a heart attack as he watched YoungJae hit ‘delete’ over and over again.

“Yah! Yah!” He hissed, smacking JaeBum’s arm wildly. “Did you see that??”

“I’m literally a foot away from you. Of course I saw it.” JaeBum grasped the hand that was still hitting him excitedly and pressed a mug into it, “Now drink something before you have an aneurysm.”

She cheated a few times though, and he could make out the strums of her guitar interlaced with her own piano track because, of course, she could play both and overlay them on top of each other.

Now you’re just showing off. Received 3:34pm

SeungWan couldn’t even stay smug because, even when she sent him songs in other languages, he’d play along to them, broken pieces of the lines coming through in such earnest that she almost forgot that he needed language lessons. Sometimes, she could make out Mark or Jackson on some of the trickier lyrics though and she could only imagine the flack they probably gave him.

It wasn’t so bad. Received 6:21pm

I mean, after the first 30 minutes of OOOH OUR YOUNGJAE IS ALL GROWN UPP! they were actually helpful. Received 6:22pm

SeungWan snorted at the message before picking up her guitar and playing back his latest challenge to her, a track from a Scottish singer that took her a few searches to get right. She played a few simple notes to make sure she was on the right track, eventually pausing to take down some notes and wondering if she should ask one of the others to play along with her again.

“You make it look so easy.”

SeungWan glanced up to see YeRim in the doorway of her room, looking at her essentially playing by ear with not a small amount of awe.

“It just takes some practice.” She insisted, right before she played the opening flawlessly, vocalizing as she did so.

YeRim laughed, delighted. Practice and buttload of talent to be sure.

Their maknae said, “I forgot about it.”

SeungWan asked distractedly, “Forgot what honey?”

“I thought it’d be difficult; transferring playing a piece from one instrument to another.” YeRim elaborated, her expression turning sheepish, “But I guess that, if you tried hard enough, you could probably play any piece on an instrument.”

SeungWan had recently shown her a duo of cellists who did an awesome rendition of Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal that still blew her mind. YeRim leaned against the doorframe, smiling idly.

“But I think people sometimes forget it,” She said, nodding at the guitar that lay in SeungWan’s arms. “That your guitar and his piano; they’re both stringed instruments. I mean, they both obviously look nothing alike and work differently too,” She clarified, “But, at the heart of it, they’re the same right?”

And SeungWan stared at her for a moment, more than a little thrown because-

“…huh.” She ghosted her fingers over the strings in her lap much like she had done over the black-and-white keys in that practice room with YoungJae beside her and said, sounding just a bit surprised, “Yeah, I guess we are.”

They saw each other at a music show at adjoining comebacks, though it was largely in passing because they had their own stages to perform at and apparently, half of his group was unaware that they were in contact with each other so their interaction was a bit stunted by the gigantic baby idols who seem to believe that they couldn’t be seen on the other side of a(n empty) clothing rack. But she grinned up at him brightly and wished his band luck on their comeback and he may or may not have magically produced a copy of their latest album and asked for her autograph without quite meeting her eyes. (It was sweet)

When his band won 1^st place, JooHyun insisted that they give their congratulations in person. ‘They’ of course meaning SeungWan by her damn self because subtlety was not their leader’s forte. And neither was SeulGi’s, who linked her arm through SeungWan’s and maintained that she was coming along for ‘moral support.’

“Sure girl.” SeungWan cooed, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

But, of course, Choi YoungJae and most of Got7 were gone by the time they reach their dressing room.

“I sent them off to the car already.” JaeBum explained, picking up the scarf BamBam left behind (again) and headphones with a ‘J’ on both sides that either belonged to JinYoung or Jackson that had fallen behind the couch. He grinned knowingly, “Though I’m sure whatever you came here to tell him you can just message him. You know, the usual.”

It was a bit of a devastating combination between his smile and his innuendo that threw SeungWan off but luckily, SeulGi recovered for her…sorta.

“They actually don’t talk much.” SeulGi said (ratted her out). Ignoring SeungWan’s glare, she told YoungJae’s roommate, “All they do is trade music and sing to each other.”

“Huh.” JaeBum seemed amused by this. “Well that’s…a shame.

“SeungWan-ssi.” He addressed her so suddenly that SeungWan practically snapped to attention. This must’ve been that ‘leader’ voice YoungJae had told her about. “Are you free in the next few days?”

JYPE was fairly quiet when she walked in on that Wednesday afternoon.

Barely anyone noticed the appearance of someone who didn’t belong to their company, though she thought she heard a few trainees gasp with recognition before she rode up in the elevator. Mark, however, wasn’t remotely phased when he passed by her. Then again, she was expected (sorta).

“We’re taking a break from rehearsal for our concert.” He said, stopping in front of one door beyond which SeungWan could hear the muffled strains of ‘Fly’ through. Mark nodded down a separate hallway, switching to English as he smiled, “I think you know the way right.”

SeungWan returned the smile over her shoulder before walking off.

She found him in the same place she left him before, in the same practice room, standing though instead of sitting at the baby grand piano where they had sat beside each other. YoungJae didn’t look surprised to see her, but he looked pleased nonetheless, his smile dopey and bright all at once.

“JaeBum told me you might be stopping by.” He said.

“Well, he invited me to come so sweetly, how could I say no?” She replied dryly and he laughed because subtlety wasn’t his leader’s forte either.

It would’ve felt odd to sit while he was standing so she moved to the right of middle C, and she was a little surprised to realize that he was taller than her. Had she just not noticed before?

She gestured to the rack, where a notebook had a few things scrawled along the page, along with some printed music sheets.

“Are you working on the one I sent you?”

He grinned, smug, “You mean the theme song to that video game?”

“Dammit.” She snapped her fingers dramatically. “I knew that was too easy!”

YoungJae chuckled and nodded at the notebook, “I’m just working on a piece before I have to go in with one of the producers.”

SeungWan’s eyes widened. “You’re in the middle of a comeback and still working on new songs?” She scoffed, “You really don’t take breaks do you?”

“No, no,” He insisted, shaking his head, “It’s just the music right now.”

“No need to be so modest ARS.” She teased, enjoying the way he seemed to grimace and flush all at once at the mention of his alias. SeungWan nudged him with her shoulder, “I’m trying to compliment you, YoungJae.”

She watched his flush spread down his neck, a hand coming to semi-cover it self-consciously.

“Honestly,” He confessed. “I don’t really know how to write songs.”

“You sure about that?” SeungWan nearly laughed. “Because you might have a couple of very big misprints on the credit lines on your latest CD.”

The way he grinned made her wonder if he would ever get used to being praised. What a kid.

“I can do music.” YoungJae said, playing a brief flourish on the piano before them for emphasis. “But lyrics are…trickier.” He shrugged, “JB is good at things like that; putting his thoughts into words along with music. And so is Jackson sometimes with the right translation. But it doesn’t come so easily for me.”

“…Would you like me to help you then?” She followed some of the notes on the music sheet, flawlessly of course and turned to him, “Write one, I mean? I’m better at composing but I’m not too bad at-”

He laughed suddenly, low and just a bit embarrassed.

“Hey,” She breathed, trying not to be offended. “It was just an offer. You don’t have to laugh-”

“No, no!” He protested, an arm at her elbow to hold her because she hadn’t even realized she’d taken an unconscious step away from him. “I didn’t mean it like that SeungWan-ssi.

“It’s just…” He his lips once and took a deep breath as if to steel himself, “I’m not sure that would be a good idea…considering that it’s difficult enough to write one about you without you.”

SeungWan blinked. Twice, then shook her head because-

“…Choi YoungJae.” She tried to laugh and finding it a little difficult to do so, poking his arm accusingly. “Are you trying to confess to me?”

He clicked his tongue and made a pinched expression, the hand at her elbow retracting.

“I’ve been kind of been trying to do it for the last three months, but thanks for finally noticing.”

And then he smiled at her sideways, a crooked little smirk that suddenly reminded her of something, an idle warning about JYP boys and devastation, told jokingly with a strained undercurrent of the things you can’t really say aloud in public. Did Tiffany say it? Or was it Jessica? No, she wouldn’t have any reason to say that…right? Or maybe Vict-

“I’m...” He started suddenly, breaking her reverie. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

That…wasn’t quite the word she would’ve used in that moment. SeungWan chewed at the inside of her cheek for a moment, partially to stall for time, partially because she wasn’t quite sure she trusted herself to say anything else.

“It’s just…” YoungJae floundered for his next words for a moment; glancing to and fro except towards her as if he had a script to read off from and he’d forgotten his next lines. Resigned, he swallowed thickly and tried again, “It’s just that every time I talk or spend time with you, I hear this music…” But he gestured to his chest instead of his ears, clutching at the fabric by his collarbone to show her where the sound came from, “And every time I try to write it down or play it by ear, I can never get it right, no matter how many times I try.”

His hand dropped along with his expression, as if he instantly regretted what he’d said.

“Nevermind.” He said quietly, turning back to the piano away from her. “It’s silly, isn’t it.”

SeungWan stared at his profile for a beat, memorizing the rise of his nose down to the course of his jaw thinking to herself with some degree of wonder because have I really not seen this him before?

“…yes it is.” She said finally, startling him when her hands brushed over his knuckles, as if she was poised to start playing another song. Maybe one that neither of them had heard before. “But I’d like to try to hear it anyway.”

And on that quiet, Wednesday afternoon in a small practice room at JYPE, Son SeungWan wove their fingers together like the black keys on the white ones in front of them, and kissed Choi YoungJae (GOT7).

The music that YoungJae had heard every time SeungWan remotely crossed his mind or even breathed in his general direction, the one that hummed impatiently, lodged in his chest, screaming to be heard, suddenly sprung alive in his mind, vivid and loud in that single moment. It was as if he’d been listening to a symphony through a crappy headset, the sound drowned by electronic crackling and frayed, exposed wires at the earbuds, only to be hit with the full force of it abruptly playing in Dolby Surround Sound.

It was beautiful. And SeungWan didn’t hear any of this.

Because the symphony that rang in YoungJae’s chest didn’t play out for her.

No, there were no strings or winds or even a tap of a conductor’s wand on a stand to signal the start of something new for either of them. There was none of that for her.

But there was the way that YoungJae’s heartbeat practically pounded violently under her touch that she could almost hear it against her fingertips in the hand curled around his, his pulse keeping a beat so rapid that she was worried she might not be able to keep up with it. There were his shallow pants as he tried to catch the breath she’d taken, the first of many she’d never, ever give back to him. There was that discordant chord he’d inadvertently struck on the piano when she took him by surprise, and the shuffle of his sneakers on the carpet floor, as if he didn’t know how to move or what to do until she told him so when they pulled away.

He was decidedly dazed, eyes half-glassy because maybe he hadn’t sleep well recently and I was a little difficult to catch his breath but he had to ask her,

“Did you hear it too?”

YoungJae was still listening to the swell of an unwritten concerto but all SeungWan could make out was how the pounding in her ears seemed to match the racing pulse she held in her hands. It occurred to her that it was a lot like the game they had played with each other, different takes and renditions of the same, beautiful song, and so she smiled, a little wobbly and too giddy and said,

“Yeah.” When his growing grin threatened to swallow his face and blind her altogether, she asked, “Can I hear it again?”

YoungJae, of course, happily complied.

Choi YoungJae (GOT7) doesn’t contact her anymore.

She does, however, get multiple messages and calls now from a number listed under Pan because, as he’d said, “If you’ll be my Wendy, I’ll be your Peter and we’ll just never grow old together.” (He cringes in embarrassment afterwards and SeungWan learns that it’s not that YoungJae doesn’t know how to write lyrics, but that he’s a little too good at writing ones that are so cheesy and greasy that it could give fast-food chain restaurants heart attacks. She might like it a little too much.)

Wendy-bird trades songs with him and the tracks that he saves on his phone keep him company wherever he goes, while her voice keeps him grounded before he goes on stages halfway across the world. Even the younger ones know not to bother him five minutes before showtime, when he’s got his head on a table and earphones plugged in to a song that doesn’t belong on any of their albums.

YeRim is quite pleased with how things turn out. Not necessarily because her unnie is finally in a relationship, though it’s a nice bonus. But it's even more nice to have one more friend to play with in their dorm. JooHyun, however, stands off to one side, arms crossed skeptically, suspicious.

“You don’t have to worry, unnie.” SeungWan s her arms around their leader reassuringly. “After all, at least she’s housebroken."

For the record, CoCo will love to play with all of them (and their shoes and their ribbons and, for one awful afternoon, SooYoung's purse) but she always preferred to follow SeungWan wherever she went, cuddling up to her babysitter whenever possible and using her as a pillow at bedtime. SeulGi laughed, petting their timeshare puppy when JooHyun pointed it out, rationalizing,

"Like father, like daughter."

4/4/2016