Wonpil grumbles in frustration, he tosses a rock into the pond with a defeated sigh. The pencil in his hand refused to move for the past twenty minutes, his music sheets have barely five notes written on it.

"Ah, ." Ruffling his hair, he shuts the folder and throws his backpack over his shoulders, shoving his pencil and rubbed into his back pockets and trudges along the path like a wimpy dog who has lost its tasty bone.

I'm not gonna have enough time at this rate.

If he knew anyone in his class, maybe it would have been easier but sitting all the way back didn't help him in gaining friends; plus, they were already in groups, he didn't have any chance of joining in the first place. (Besides sitting at the front is just too much for his mental health, the least he needs is a scary professor breathing down his neck every second.)

Wonpil tries to hum a few notes to get his creativity going, but as luck has it, the tunes were of already established songs, no way can he use those. That's plagiarisms.

Though playing on the keyboard might help stimulate his minds a bit, he grips onto the folder and the strap of his back before breaking into a sprint, heading to the instrument rooms opened to music students.

Ragged breathes, he clutches his chest as he tries to regulate his heart rate, eyes wondering around from doors to doors for an unoccupied piano room.

"Oh, thank god." He sighs in relief, reaching out for the door handle but pauses when in the corner of his eyes, a boy swinging the stick down so gracefully and without looking at all. Wonpil could tell from just observations this guy was way too absorbed in whatever his earphones are playing.

He does wonders how long this guy has been playing to have sweats rolling down his cheeks though. That's dedication.

Wonpil walked away from the door to the piano, and instead his feet take him towards the room with the stranger residing in it, he entered without knocking although he concludes there's no point considering the earphones.

For perhaps a good two to three minutes, Wonpil stood there in front of the drum sets like an idiot, waiting for the stranger to finish playing the current song, those walking pass must be laughing their heads off if they saw him through the window embedded in the door.

"Oh, hello." The stranger gives s little nod of his head to acknowledge the presence of another student before pulling the earphones out. "Did you need the drum sets?"

"Uh, no." Wonpil didn't particularly think when he entered, to be completely honest.

"Then were you going to lock up the room?"

"Ah, not that either." Wonpil runs his head through his weaves, trying to collect his thoughts together. "Oh, right, I saw you playing earlier, and I was wondering if we could work together on an assignment? Your class must have it too, right?"

The stranger stares back at Wonpil, blinking his eyes without many clues and before Wonpil could excuse himself out and apologise for bothering him, he exclaims with a nod of his head.

"Yeah, I got that today."

"Great, would you pair up with me?"

Wonpil would get on his knees and beg if he has to, his creativity is just not doing well at all for the past few days, it's driving him mad.

"Sure." He stood up and extend a hand with a smile. "I'm Dowoon."

"Wonpil. I play the keyboard and I can sing, should I work on the lyrics first?" He wasted no time getting started because, after all, music is extremely time-consuming. "Is that easier for you to compose or do you want to work on the melody first?"

"Lyrics. We both can work on that."

Maybe Wonpil's luck is finally turning around, he smiles as he takes a seat in one of the chairs beside Dowoon, both holding a pencil and began scribbling everywhere on the black sheet of paper.

Dowoon doesn't often write lyrics but Wonpil is glad he's able to lend a helping hand. From setting a theme to ease the tedious lyrics creation process to a possible line that he already has a tune for.

Dowoon would occasionally reach over to write on the paper, arrows extending out everywhere with little notes on possible variations to the words or tunes for some lines.

And as cliché as it sounds, Wonpil couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat when Dowoon's shoulders brushed against his every time he leans over to writes something.

He tells himself it's only the excitement of getting a partner.

Yeah, it must be.

— — — —

It took only two days — and a bag full of bottled coffee — for them to finish the lyrics as well as testing the overall melody by having Wonpil sing it.

"Your voice is really nice," Dowoon compliments as he hands over a bar of chocolate, the other hand holding onto his own piece.

"Thanks. I ended up practising singing because just the keyboard doesn't stand out." Especially having had work on almost every assignment on his own while many other students have two instruments to work with, the only way for him to not get compared is to play the piano and sing.

"Whaaat," Dowoon exclaims. "But your singing is so good, I bet you can still get at least a high C or a low B with just that."

Wonpil laughs, though he wouldn't try that. He'd like an A. Singing alone can't get him that grade, no matter how good he is.

"Wanna work on the melody or pass for today?" Wonpil asks, keeping in mind the fact that they've been working on just the lyrics for two days straight, running on caffeine alone and maybe four or five hours of sleep at most.

"Pass." Dowoon leans back on hand elbows before falling onto his back with a groan. "I'm so tired I could eat a horse."

Wonpil snickered. "Why would you eat a horse if you're tired?"

"Dunno."

Dowoon stares at the sky for a few more seconds before bouncing back up, reaching for his phone and hand it over to Wonpil who stares at him in confusion.