Excited was only a mild comparison to what Daehyun felt that morning waking up earlier than his alarm, charged and buzzed. He could have slept in, his meeting with his producer was not until much later that evening, but his mind would not rest. Sleep was not an option; especially not on the day leading up to an important meeting with his producer about the future of his music.

So at six in the morning, just five hours since he had turned in for the night, Daehyun was up and moving again, making a wide pace around the kitchen and digging through the cabinets in search for breakfast – it was, after all, the most important meal of the day (as were lunch, dinner, and the occasional secret midnight snack).

It was almost funny. Daehyun had just gone out shopping the other week to fill his kitchen, and already, three days later, he was finding it a journey on its own hunting down something to eat. The grocery bill had totaled something over 200,000 won, a cost that would last a normal household a good month.

The food must have walked out on him, feeling neglected. That seemed to be the only explanation he could find.

The poor things must have been upset that Daehyun had been quite so busy over the past few days.

How upsetting.

(He would have to find more time for them from now on instead of traveling abroad so much.)

“Daehyun! Oh, it’s him!

“You’re so handsome!”

Even years into his stardom, Daehyun would never fully be able to get used to the longing cry of his name.

He had always been just another ordinary Gwangju-native Busan boy. The kid with the wide, doe eyes and nose too big for his face. He had, somewhere along, grown into his much too big features, but the awkward teenage-hood had never left him, even as Daehyun had begun his trainee years in Seoul.

A mocking, “Have you ever considered having plastic surgery,” had been a tag that had followed him through auditions. They had never meant any harm (or so Daehyun tried to reason); and Daehyun had to admit, he was not at all like the other flashy boys on screen, loved for their face more than their musical talent.

(Unfortunately for him though, surgery was expensive and where in the world was a boy living off kimbap supposed to come up with the millions for the cost?)

But who would have thought that the odd boy would be one day on screen, a mic in hand and a mouthful of sweet melodies to woo them all?

Time made the heart fond and that was what had pushed the once awkward country-born boy to the top tiers of stardom.

He was not just the Gwangju-born Jung Daehyun anymore. He was Daehyun of ONEVOICES and now the honey-vocal solo artist Jung Daehyun, ready to take over as he had once done before as the centerpiece of his group. There was nothing more standing in his way.

Stepping out of his car, pushing a hand through his hair before pulling down his cap over his head, Daehyun smiled at the waiting fans. They had likely come to the company building early morning in single hopes to pass a letter; what luck, when they found out that they had come in time to watch their dearest singer arrive at work.

“Hi,” he smiled, locking his car and waving over at the girls squealing. “How are you?”

There was a jumbled screech for reply and Daehyun laughed, the reaction nearly programed into him. It was run on an automated cycle now. Smile and laugh, even if you don’t really know what was said.

With time to kill, Daehyun grinned, stepping out of the shade of the garage and tilting his head a direction. His fans loved that. “What are you guys doing out here so early?” He paused, leaning forward just a slight to catch the mixed replies. “Presents?” He blinked, wide and innocent - feigning ignorance -, “for me?”

It was then a race to who got there first, the girls hurdling forward to pass over their gifts to the singer.

He greeted each with a grin and a thank you, stretching his fingers to take the gifts in one hand. “You guys are the best.” And with the free hand, he made a finger heart, jutting it out toward his fans. “I love you!” Sending his heart flying, he began the short distance toward the company building, waving behind him at the fans that had now gathered.

“It’s getting chilly, so go straight home, alright? Be careful of colds!”

There was an echo of response and Daehyun grinned, passing a final wave before heading into the building, a low sigh parting his lips. Fans were great - they were the reason he stood on stage, the reason his voice mattered - but he could not lie that their presence could at times get so big to an extent it was exhausting. Even the inexhaustible Jung Daehyun stood no chance up to the girls that made up his existence.

If there was a perk about arriving early for recording, it was that his producer never expected him there.

A wide grin on his face, Daehyun had sat in the back couch of the studio, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he scrolled through his producer’s phone. The best thing yet, he had not noticed that Daehyun had arrived yet.

“Oh god - !”

Daehyun’s eyes lazily rolled up as the phone was snatched out of his hand, meeting eyes with his producer. “So, new girlfriend?”

“God, tell me when you’re here instead of trying to give me a heart attack.” The older man frowned as he stepped back into his rolling seat, slouching down onto the cushioned chair, shaking his head. “And no, I don’t have a new girlfriend.”

“Oh, but what about that text? How’s my Pyuri baby~”

There was a noise, something in the middle of choking and wanting to cry. “Pyuri is my dog’s name.”

Oh.

Daehyun blinked. “Awkward.” He shook his head, sitting straight and stretching sleeping limbs. “Sungwon hyung, you text your dog?” The better question was, had he seriously bought his dog a phone?

“No, you idiot.”

“But-”

“Okay, it doesn’t matter, alright? Stop digging through my phone you little snoop or I’ll stop making songs for you.”

Mocking a pained expression, Daehyun whined, “But hyung, what will I do without your songs?”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel like writing more things for you, it’s not working.” The man sighed, rubbing his forehead, knowing a little too well none of his scolding would ever make it past through the young star’s thick head. They had known each other much too long for such false hopes.

Sungwon had been the one in charge of Daehyun’s singing career from the start, the man who had stepped up to the confused boy who had been handed a ‘no’ slip from all the companies up in the cold and relentless Seoul. Walking back out from an open audition, Daehyun had been handed a crumpled paper with a scrawl of digits and an excited: “Call me. I think you have talent.” If it had not been for Sungwon, Daehyun would have still been on the streets, confused and lost, hoping for a break he would not get.

“Alright, whatever. Take a listen to this.”

Twirling in his chair, slim fingers tapped at the keys there until a new window popped up on the sitting monitor. He feigned ignorance to the way Daehyun straightened up once more, mocking a fake salute and a chorus of, “Yes sir, Commander Sleepy sir!”

“It’s one of the tracks I’ve been messing with. I think it might fit you well.”

Everything Sungwon made suited Daehyun’s taste. Daehyun had been the voice Sungwon had been looking for, prancing around in his head, and Sungwon had been the writer Daehyun had dreamt of only in his sweetest of nights. It was a fair enough trade. Sungwon had helped him debut with ONEVOICES and Daehyun never once forgot to bring back smiles to the more than enthusiastic producer. Even as ONEVOICES broke apart, each to chase their own dreams, Daehyun had hung back, eager to re-sign the contract that would keep him bound to his producer for another lengthy five years in addition to his first seven.

The song started out gentle, a slow guitar drift to organize the beginning. From the start, it was much different than the songs ONEVOICES had taken on before. He had expected something of the same – perhaps even y, he had thought that just maybe all those hours at the gym would finally have a chance to show.

The fans, after all, loved that. A shy face with a well crafted body.

But this too, he did not mind; it gave a chance to let seen his vocal talent unhindered by heavy beats and auto-tune.

A shocking change for a shocking single return. How fitting.

“What should I say?”

Daehyun’s eyes had just slid shut as the first of the lyrics, letting the smooth melody wash through him.

It was sad – the song; and the smooth voice, so filled with emotions helped nudge the jerk of tears (the ones Daehyun had already exhausted and given up to his fame) that would have his fans screaming for more. A song with only Daehyun. No need for a featuring artist or backup dancers to fill his stage performance. Seungwon had certainly put a lot on mind, choosing out the song for his favorite annoyance.

But that was not point; that was not what had had Daehyun freeze, eyes wide and lips parted in a sort of falling awe.

“So? How is it?”

“Who is that?”

Daehyun’s reaction was loud – as was all the rest of him. His palms had pressed against the flat surface as he rose partially, peeking over the sound equipment as if to look into the past and the face of the artist who had done his guide singing.

“Yeah hyung, the song was amazing.” Seungwon rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. From the previous work with him, his producer had likely already forgone any sort of the usual praise he would receive from the other artists. Daehyun had always been different – pampered and spoiled rotten, as many of their company would say.

But to have been completely ignored was certainly something else.

Daehyun faked a cough, sheepish.

“Sorry.” He lowered himself back into his seat, twisting his fingers together onto his lap apologetically. “It was good, I liked it – you know I like all the songs you make.”

Seungwon hummed back, rocking sideways in his seat. “Good, but not enough to have all of your attention? I must be getting too old for this job; I’m losing my touch.” He then laughed, reaching over to thump Daehyun on the head when the boy began a series of bubbled apologies. “I’m kidding, calm down.”

This was how they worked. Daehyun was a loud exaggeration of colors, no matter what shade, and Seungwon played the waters to dilute his bold accents. It worked and that seemed to be all that mattered.

This time, it took a little more going for him to ask the question that remained buzzing uncomfortably in his head. “So, who was that?” Daehyun’s lips pressed into a thin line, curiosity stronger than the feeble apology that still nudged at the back of his mind. “That wasn’t Seokjin hyung.”

For several months now, Kim Seokjin – god had played unfair when making this character, forging a beautiful face together with a vocal talent Daehyun found himself jealous over – had played the part as his guide singer. They had many times hung out, moving their steps to the buffets and eating them dry. They had bonded over the food.

And Daehyun knew Seokjin’s voice like the back of his hand and this, this was not it.

It was different. A little rough around the edges, but pitch perfect, reaching a range Daehyun could recall Seokjin expressing discomfort over.

Unique. It was certainly something different to everything else he had heard.

Why was this man not an already a debuted artist?

“Do I know him? Is he a trainee? Has he debuted? His dates are set, right?”

His question had been cautious at first, but once the dam had burst, there was not a way to keep the curiosity from flooding out. By the time his mind had been said, Daehyun was already being hushed back into his seat, open palms keeping him from advancing any further onto his expecting producer. “Calm down, sheesh. I won’t tell you until you’ve at least calmed down.”

But how could he do that?

(It was to a little irritation that Seungwon always kept to his word.)

(He really didn’t say anything, no matter how much Daehyun pleaded.)

By the time the sun had long distanced itself from center sky, Daehyun still had not a name to put with the voice.

He whined loudly as his producer bopped his head to a new beat moved from mind to screen. It was a delicate procedure and Daehyun knew better than to disturb it; usually, anyways.

Today just was not one of those days.

“Come on, just tell me his name,” Daehyun groaned, kicking out his feet into the table separating the space between his producer and himself. It was annoying; it was just a name – what harm could come from Daehyun knowing a measly name? “It’s just a name.”

Seungwon, on the other hand, did not seem too greatly affected by the childish sulk, not seeming to be too interested in making a move to acknowledge Daehyun at all; that is, until the singer began throwing whatever was in his reach, aimed directly at the producer.

Jung Daehyun was a fool, a child.

“God damn it, Jung Daehyun.”

Daehyun smiled. Kim Seungwon never cursed; not unless he was really bothered – that meant Daehyun was one step closer to his goal of getting a name out. “Come on hyung, tell me a name.”

The man sighed, rubbing the forming bump in the back of his head and again twisting in his chair for the first time since he had began ignoring his star singer. “I can’t, Daehyun.” He tilted his neck, a loud pop sounding in the otherwise silent room. “Confidentiality, y’know.”

“Bull ,” Daehyun huffed, crossing his arms.

“Language.”

Sometimes, dealing with Daehyun was like humoring a pubescent teen.

“You were fine with telling me all about Seokjin hyung.”

Seungwon was growing wary of this talk, Daehyun could read it in the dulled reflection in his eyes. The man ought to know by now – when Jung Daehyun wanted something, it was rare that he could give up. He was like a pit bull; once he had latched onto something, it was simply impossible to make the boy let go. “That’s because Seokjin didn’t mind getting to know a loud idiot like you.”

It was unfair.

It was just a name; why was he not allowed to know a single name – what harm could it do?

Daehyun kicked at the coffee table, too prideful to make noise when his toe stubbed painfully against the edge.

“Tell you what,” the man rose from his seat, leaving the soft whines of the chair to slouch onto the plush sofa, “I can’t tell you who it is, but I can tell you who you can ask if you promise to go back today and get some rest.”

His mouth opened to protest, “But.”

“You can’t see him today anyways, he has classes until late today.”

Seungwon smiled and in reflection, Daehyun frowned, waiting for the man to continue. When no move was made to do so, he waved his hands indicating a continual.

“What?” Seungwon raised a brow, “You don’t get it?”

“You didn’t tell me anything.”

The older man groaned, pressing his fingers into his eyes. “Think about it, who usually comes in and helps me, but isn’t present today?” With that, he stood, leaving Daehyun with pressed lips and his mind chugging in double speed.

Who?

“Wait-,” Daehyun rose, knocking his knee against the table (perhaps it was revenge) and cursing out.

“It was Zi?”

“Just think about it tonight, Daehyun.” And a pause, “And his name is Junhong, not Zi!”