Ever since Jonghyun was a little boy, he had been told that birds were really just angels in disguise. He built bird house after bird house, nailed them together with child-like ideas and innocent intentions. And now, here he was at twenty-five, still full of those beliefs as he filled one of the many small houses that hung from the trees in his back yard.

This particular bird house was on a low branch for easy access, painted a collage of designs, but the paint was flaking from the usual wear and tear of the weather. 

Jonghyun tipped the package of the bird feed into the small space and listened to the songs of the birds already up in the trees.

He actually wasn't even sure why his mother had told him again and again that birds were really angels. But she did.

It was told to him in bed-times stories, and at the park when flocks of them flew down to peck at the pavement, and then when they were in the car and dark masses of crows flew over their heads.

He once asked if the crows were angels, too.

She replied with a soft, charming laugh and a smile that always made him feel safe and told him that all birds were angels.

No exceptions, because they sang like angels.

No matter the call, it was beautiful to her and so it was beautiful to Jonghyun.

"I love when you guys sing to me in the mornings." He said, tipping his head up to peer through the thick braches and leaves of the tree over his head. "Be right back, don't go anywhere."

Jonghyun set the bag of bird feed on the steps of the porch and slid the door open to his living room, slipping off his shoes and padding across the carpet to grab his guitar from its usual place on the couch.

Picking up a small, blue notebook from his low to the ground coffee table, pen in mouth between his teeth, he returned to the back yard.

"Still here?" He asked to the birds, who continued to chirp as they were in response that made him grin wide. "Cool. Thought so."

His long fingers curled around the neck of his guitar, and he closed his eyes and took a breath before he started. The notes started out a little choppy as he copied the songs from the birds, each note a moment late.

A slow smile spread across his plush lips, and he nodded with the small beat he was making with his foot against the concrete, and he pressed his fingers into the sharp strings, and slid his hand down the neck, picking out notes with the blue and white porcelain pick.

"Take it from the top, guys!" Jonghyun grinned and gave a loud strum of the strings and the sound was awkward and discordant, and he heard the flapping of wings, and birds flew from his trees.

"Come back! I didn't mean it."

Jonghyun blew his over-grown bangs from his eyes and then ran his hand through his hair, pick between his canines.

After an hour of unsuccessful picking around with his guitar, he gave a sigh and put the caramel colored instrument back in the house, made himself something to eat, took a shower and finally decided to try again.

He gave a look, brows and lips quirked, toward the pile of bills on the table, opened and sorted through and none of them paid.

He hadn't gotten paid for over a month.

Working on only commission writing jingles for small businesses wasn't exactly shelling out the money he needed.

Especially when Jonghyun hadn't come up with an original jingle since he couldn't even remember when.

The bills felt like they were staring at him.

"Stop looking at me like that." Jonghyun sighed, and picked his guitar back up. "I'm workin' on it."

Hair damp from his shower, Jonghyun returned to his seat on the steps and he leaned back on his palms and watched the trees and sky, and the clouds roll across, lazy and slow and swollen with promised rain.

He closed his eyes, and gave another sigh.

"Just, if you guys really are angels, I need a miracle." Jonghyun whispered, voice suddenly rough. "Help me out."

A small pep of sound made Jonghyun look down to his feet, and he saw a bird on the steps. It shuffled it's tiny, orange feet and chirruped again, beak clicking.

"Yeah? Are you gonna help me?" Jonghyun tilted his head and poured out a liberal amount of food from the bag into his hand, and he offered it to the tiny bird.

He expected the songbird to fly off, but it hopped on both feet to edge closer and it took a seed from his palm.

"You're a pretty bird, you know that?"

The songbird, colored a pale, cream color and light yellow simply chirped again, agreeing, and took another seed from his hand, cracking it in his beak.

"Can you sing?"

Jonghyun puckered his lips and whistled out a small tune, and watched the bird.

It fluttered its wings and shuffled its feet again, and then copied his tune, head tilting every which way, watching him.

"Are you my angel?"

The bird’s song started out soft, but continued to increase in volume, as if the tiny creature was gaining a sort of confidence because Jonghyun was grinning down at it.

It was a simple song.

Easy for Jonghyun to drop the remaining amount of seed from his hand, pick up his guitar, and attempt to pick out each note. It was sloppy and slow, and awkward against his fingers, each note a little too long, or cut off too quickly.

But it was there.

It was a song.

A jingle.

Jonghyun grinned down at the tiny songbird who had started to peck at the seeds on the concrete porch step.

"I think you really are my angel." He mumbled, and his teeth connected with his bottom lip, "Thank you, beautiful bird. You have an amazing voice."

The songbird chirped in reply, as if agreeing with him and hopped on its orange feet until Jonghyun managed to collect its tiny body in his cupped palms and he deposited him inside his favorite bird house. The creature was so delicate in his hands, and its downy feathers were soft.

Painted with a bright sun, the rays lopsided triangles, and a series of vines had grown and wound around the wood. It looked very rural, which he loved.

"Thank you again, I'll be sure to update you on my progress of the song. Stick around a little bit, okay?" Jonghyun grinned at the small songbird, "I'll see you later."

--

The rest of the day was spent with his guitar in a ratty pair of jeans, a pen between his teeth and music in his mind, and lyrics falling from his lips and they were printed on the page in his messy scrawl that even he had trouble reading.

It took the remainder of the night, after the sun had set and the air outside had grown cold, to compose and record the song that was only about a minute and a half in length.

After giving it one, and two and maybe seven listen-overs, Jonghyun decided it was time to play it for his savior.

He idly hoped that he wouldn't be too loud and wake his neighbors.

Guitar in hand, lyrics on his tongue, he was on his moonlit porch.

And suddenly, he felt nervous.

A jumble of tight nerves in his stomach, knotted and uncomfortable.

"I dunno if songbirds are out at night, or if you're even here, but uh." Jonghyun cleared his throat and smoothed his fingers down the fret board. "Here goes, little bird. Hope you can hear it."

To be fair, the lyrics were cheesy as hell. They rhymed awkwardly, and even though the lines were short, Jonghyun was having a little trouble with remembering the chords and strumming pattern, and the horrible lyrics.

All that mattered was the melody, to him.

His fingers only fumbled the notes twice, and he knew that the bird wouldn't notice.

But the song --lyrics aside-- was still very nice.

Jonghyun pushed his bangs from his wide eyes, and he watched the moon for more than a long minute.

He heard a dog bark in the distance.

"Alrighty, little bird. I don't think you're awake, or you might not even be in my tree." Jonghyun laughed softly to himself and he quirked his lips to the side before he stood up, holding the guitar by its neck.

"Nighty night, I'll come back tomorrow with some food."

He opened the sliding glass door and then closed it behind him, setting his instrument down with care.

Out of his hearing range, the small bird chirruped from a high branch, wings stretching and shuffling and he peeped and peeped, but the man didn't come back outside.

The song really was pretty.

For a cheesy, radio commercial jingle.

--

Jonghyun was aware that he didn't fit in at a corporate office.

His dress shirt was too wrinkled.

His tie wasn't in 'season'.

His shoes were scuffed and the laces were frayed.

Worrying the CD in his sweating hands, he bounced his leg as he waited in the receptionist’s area.

The girl at the front desk chatted loudly on her phone, and he heard the smack of bubble gum and the click of keys on her computer. She was twenty six, he learned but didn't care, and she was having boyfriend troubles.

But really, Jonghyun didn't care. All he could feel was his empty stomach in knots but all he could focus on was her voice and it made him grit his teeth and it was wearing down on his patience.

Jonghyun never really did like to wait.

Especially when the air was too cold, and he hadn't eaten because he couldn't afford to, after spending the gas money to get to the office.

After another few harsh minutes of the wait, a man in a starched suit came out to greet him. They shook hands in tight grips, and exchanged smiles, but it didn't make Jonghyun feel any better.

"I know I'm a little late with this," he apologized, "but I think that it's pretty good, and that you'll really enjoy it."

"You do know that you said that last time?" The man with the salt and pepper hair raised his brows, "When we rejected it?"

"Ah, yes." Jonghyun nodded, resisting the urge to wet his lips, "I'm sorry for that."

It was hard, recording twelve separate jingles and having each one rejected after another, and Jonghyun had watched the bills come in the mail, and he had swallowed past his disappointment and he had to try again.

Christ.

Please, please let them take this one.

"Well, we'll give it a listen right now, Mr. Kim." The older man nodded, and took the CD from Jonghyun's shaking hand, and he placed it in the drive of his laptop, a new, expensive looking model.

Oh , am I going to have to stand where while they listen?

Please, no.

"Mr. Kim, if you would, stand outside until we've made our decision." The man addressed him, voice soft as he clicked something on the laptop, bringing up a screen.

"Oh, of course."

He bowed quickly, and left, but then he felt the panic rise.

, now I have to wait until they finish.

I would rather be listening.

Jonghyun started out leaning against the wall, but he eventually slipped to sitting with his forehead pressing against his knees. He felt like he was four, and he was about to be punished and scolded for something that he just couldn't do correctly.

The door to his right opened without a sound, "Mr. Kim?"

"Yes?" Jonghyun nearly jumped up, swallowing down his nervousness.

"Congratulations." He gave the man who looked to be just a boy a smile, and extended his hand. "We'll take it."

"You will?" Jonghyun's voice dripped with shock, and he grinned, breathless suddenly. He shook his hand, grip tight. "Thank you so much, sir. Thank you."

"Just talk to our receptionist, and she'll write you a check. We've already discussed your payment, and it should hold you over."

Nodding quickly again, Jonghyun dropped his hand, but couldn't drop his grin. "Thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me. Thank you."

A hand clapped on his broad shoulder, and the man almost had a warm tint to his older eyes. He looked so different than how he did earlier. "Keep up the good work, Mr. Kim. You'll be hearing from us again."

After collecting his check with wide eyes and shaking hands, and he walked out to his car on wobbly legs, and ate a dinner that he didn't even remember (but he knew it consisted of actual food), when he got home, Jonghyun was on the back porch again.

It was dark.

The tiny songbird was on his porch again.

Jonghyun poured out some feed and let the bird peck at his palm.

"Did you hear my song the other night?"

The other night was actually a week ago.

This appointment was hard to snag, especially after his bust with the other jingles.

The bird chirped.

"Yeah? You inspired me."

Jonghyun looked up at the moon again, and it was becoming a welcome sight and an old friend.

"Thank you, little bird."