This only ends two ways, and both involve Jae and Wonpil on the floor.

“Maybe I should have scheduled them separately,” I say to Sungjin who barely glances up from his listening exercises.

For the past hour, Jae and Wonpil have been—I want to say bickering but it’s more like Wonpil, in his specific way, has been aggressively bombarding Jae with emotions and Jae, because he’s Jae, has been yelling and making the most of his so-called jock agility. Jae must know that the only reason Wonpil keeps annoying him is because Jae keeps getting annoyed. Not that knowing makes this any easier on him. If anything, it just spurs Wonpil on more.  Brian is lying down on the floor and Dowoon is diligently taking notes on the skin on his snare.

Why did I think this was a good idea?

The answer hits me in the face when I hit play and Jae and Wonpil’s voices blend together into the perfect summer match. When I close my eyes, I see night drives with the windows down and music blasting from the speakers. It’s lights blinking in the distance and you can’t tell whether they are stars or streetlights, but it doesn’t matter. It’s breathing in the hot humid air and filling your lungs with the present. Nothing else matters but the here and now.

You’re a wild child running on bright lights

The only one who can make me feel alive

We’ll make it there where nobody knows our names

Goodbye to safe and sound your favourite pastime

“Do you want to go on a convenience store run?” Sungjin asks, pushing his headphones down to his neck. “That’s going to take a while.” Yet there is fondness in his eyes. He’s soft on these boys, he just doesn’t want to admit it. Sure, he was stuck with them for reasons only the universe knows why but the world is a better place because they are together.

My world is a brighter place because they are together.

“Sure. Do you want to bring that one with you?” I toss my head at Brian who’s busy on his phone. I tidy up my workstation just so it doesn’t look like a big mess. Their garage studio is already a big mess. I can’t work here.

“No,” Sungjin says, putting his laptop away.

We walk in silence for about five minutes, letting the summer heat warm the chill on our skin from inside the air-conditioned studio. I rub my hands for warmth. Sungjin doesn’t like to hold hands, but he makes up for it when we’re alone. He just looks at me funny because I’m trying to make a point here and he knows I know he knows.

“You should breathe on your palms to make them warm up faster,” he teases.

“You’re funny,” I shoot back, “See if you like cold hands later.”

His brows go up, almost disappearing into his snapback. I like this look. The tee. The backwards snapback. Summer is a good look on Sungjin. “Then I’ll warm them up later.”

I smile and follow after him to the store.

***

It’s closer to sunrise than it is to midnight, but Sungjin still hasn’t gone home. I’m in his music lab, working on a few things all at the same time. My EP, a new mix for radio, a mixtape that may or may not see the light of day. I’m so packed with ideas, I can’t work fast enough to get through them all. But my priority is to submit my project before I lose this bout of productivity. Everything leads to there, so when I crash I have nothing hanging on my shoulders. When it gets Bad again, I won’t be disappointing anyone else but my