(4)

I was yawning minute after minute, my stomach grumbling. I overslept and had to skip my breakfast. Sadly, running to CUBE building didn’t really help in waking me up. I was prepared to be scolded and not really bothered by the thought that the manager or whoever is in charge of keeping record of my work shouting at me. No one would beat the early banter of my mom. She did well in pulling my guilt strings in her speech of me not going to go futher into life if I just laze around and wait for a miracle.

I almost hit myself at the glass doors and I walked straight to the elevators to hand in my form to manager-nim. When I handed it out to him, he took his time in reading everything and proceeded to ask me questions, both relevant and irrelevant stuff about my job. I applied being a translator since that‘s the only thing I’m good at. And I wrote being Jang Mi Ri’s substitute as a second choice if that’s the reason why they hired me in the first place.

“BEAST’s Japanese tutor is luckily busy right now and might need you as her assistant. Are you fine with that?”

I blew my cheeks to suppress a yawn. “Yeah, I think I can manage.”

He looked at me without lifting his head as if to say “Are you sure?” but his look changed into a warm smile. He does really remind me of my uncle in the farm. “Welcome to CUBE then.”

If I was really energized and had enough sleep and breakfast, I could’ve jumped from my seat and gave him a good high five; but I was too sleepy I only beamed and nodded and said a small “Yay.” with my fist lazily in the air.

“Hwaiting!” he cheered.

“Hwaiting.” I repeated, less enthusiastically.

I stood from the fluffy chair that would actually make a really decent napping spot. I was about to leave when manager-nim stopped me.

“Wait, I assigned Ms. Lee to tour you around. Wait a second.” He clicked a few buttons from the telephone and addressed to Ms. Lee to proceed to his office.

Ms. Lee wanted me to call her Soyoon for no apparent reason. She was too tall I had to lift my head. Or maybe I was just too short? She looked more professional than manager-nim so I was shocked to know that she is just his secretary. Then I learned manager-nim wasn’t BEAST’s manager but BEAST’s managers’ manager so he was apparently more important.

“On this hallway are the practice rooms. The music and voice lessons are over there, the piano rooms there, and there is also a band room with the drums and stuff like that.” I nodded at every sentence she says and made “Aaah.” and “Oooh.” replies since I don’t know what to say. We would look into the rooms which are not occupied by the artists or trainees. We walked past Lee Changsub who was sipping his ice cold coffee and is on his way to the band room. He only noticed Soyoon though, and I was honestly kind of disappointed. When he opened the door, loud laughter spread through the hallways. I am a hundred percent positive BTOB is in there. I laughed so discreetly it turned to a cough.

By the end of the tour, we stopped again in front of manager-nim’s office.

“Oh right, before I go, you can roam around this building freely to get more used to it. I have a few reminders for you by the way.” I suspect it would be a long list and I regret not bringing with me a notebook and pen. I tend to think I memorize reminders, but in the end, I forget.

“Don’t enter rooms with someone in it. You’re just somebody from the staff, not the President of Korea. Don’t disturb anybody. And also, I heard there’s a broken door here that get’s locked outside if closed. Weird, I know. I haven’t seen it though, since I’m always in the office writing or typing,” she paused to breathe heavily and sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Manager overworks me. Moving on, I’m quite sure it’s the practice rooms, so be careful. And lastly, don’t forget to come to my office – it’s just a room next to Manager’s – to get your company phone. Since your job is mostly running errands, you might need it.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “What do you mean running errands?”

“You’re the Japanese tutor’s assistant right? She’s the new one and she kinds of bosses everyone around. And after that, when someone’s needed, the stylists, etcetera etcetera, would get whoever is available to help them out. You’re new too, so they’d call for you more. That’s just what they are. Get the phone just in case. See you!”

My lips part once she turns to her heels and leaves, the only sound I’m hearing is the sound of her stilettos bouncing off the walls. So, I’m kind of the errand girl? I signed up for a job in here that has something to do with translating stuff or teaching translating stuff, but no. I’m kind of an errand girl.

I furiously marched through the halls, hoping it would clear my mind a bit. My lips will surely bleed if I bite it this hard, but I was too upset. I was upset at myself for being too upset. Is this was manager-nim meant when he said “We need your help, Song Hyojung!”? Because I sure am didn’t know that before; and I do now.

I walked past open practice rooms, remembering Soyoon’s reminders and kept on walking, until I reached the room that sent me shivers. Its open door was shouting at me to come in, welcoming me.

I walked inside the recording studio, half in awe and half excited. I’ve always wanted to see what it is really like inside in person. This is where music is made, where great music is produced. I closed the door beside me and resumed looking around, my eyes wide in amusement.

I stepped forward and scanned the buttons in front of me. The magic buttons. I have no idea what it is called and I’m totally sure only producers know what to do with all of these. The vocal booth was just in front of me separated by a glass wall and sound proof walls. Nobody would know how this place really amazes me.

“Do you like it?” Except maybe this voice.

I jolted at the sudden question, and my heart nearly left my chest. It’s dim and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one here when I came in. I wish my though wasn’t “Oh my gosh, this place is hunted.” because now I am very scared. To ease my nervousness I thought, “But really, this ghost sure has a good taste in its favourite place to stay in.”

I turned my head slowly and saw Yoseob sitting there, his legs crossed, on top of it is a brown wooden guitar. I wanted to fall to my knees and just stay there on the floor. I wanted to do anything rather than just standing there awkwardly and doing nothing but just stare.

“Hey, did you think I was a ghost?” he sounds offended and undeniably adorable.

“No.” I said too quietly. “Yes, actually. Sorry. But that would be kind of cool, a ghost who’s highly interested in recording studios.”

This is what I’m worried about. When I become too nervous, I keep saying more words that are totally unnecessary.

He pouted. “Now I can’t stay here without thinking that.” He sulked.

“Sorry, sorry.” I giggled and he strummed and plucked his guitar strings. It would make a great accompaniment to the drums aka my heart.

“How’s the arm?” He asked, without looking at me, focusing only at his guitar.

“Better,” I assured, rubbing the gauze around my hand with my left hand. “Thanks again!”

“You’re welcome again!” he looked at me now and smiled. “Oh, by the way, Hyojung, Don’t close the door, it closes from the outside."

“Sure.” I smiled and after a few seconds, I felt realization slapping me across my face, and I slapped my lips with my palms, eyes wide in disbelief. Oh no. Oh no no no no.

“What’s wrong?”

The air suddenly turned hot and I felt sweat forming at my hairline. I just locked the both of us inside. Alone. Wait, I shouldn’t be worried about that. I should be worried about Yoseob. He has a schedule, for crying out loud! And I just ruined everything for him. I deserve to be fired. I’m horrible.

“Soyoon said it’s the practice rooms. She said nothing about recording studios. What should I do? What should I do?” I was mumbling incoherently, my fingers touching my trembling lower lip. I’m in so much trouble.

“Did you really close the door?” he surprisingly doesn’t sound mad at all. I can barely look at him without feeling guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Yoseob. I... I wasn’t informed about this. I-I was told it was the practice rooms. I’m so sorry.” I was pacing around the room so quickly.

“Hyojung.” Yoseob called out and I stopped walking, and I think my heart stopped too. Oh no, he’s going to be mad at me. Maybe he already is and because Yoseob is ever so patient and sweet, he’s good at hiding it. After gathering up enough courage, I looked at him straight in the eye.

“Stop that, you’re making me nervous. Sit down.” He patted the empty space beside him. I stayed in where I stand.

“You’re not angry at all.”

He cutely shook his head. “Why should I? Not your fault. I have a free day after all. I’ll just phone manager-nim,” he paused and slipped his hand in his pocket, stayed frozen for a while and pulled out his hand. The look in his face is priceless; I wanted to squish his cheeks. “I don’t have a phone.”

Before I could panic again I said, “Wait a second.” and rummaged through my bag and pulled out mine and showed it to him. I didn’t take it out before since I have no contacts of anyone in this company yet. Now did I only notice that Yoseob might memorize at least one number. I was too paranoid a while ago to think straight. “Do you know any number of anyone inside here?”

He patted the empty seat next to him again and I did as he asked and handed him the phone. We’re only a few inches apart. He put the guitar aside and took my phone. I felt a slight contact but it made a big effect on the chills under my spine.

He stared at the keypad on the phone screen for the longest time before typing the numbers and erasing them again. He’d do the same thing in the next few minutes but he’d erase them all. He sighed.

“I forgot hyung’s number.”

I bit my lip and looked down at my hands. “I’m really sorry, Yoseob.”

He looked at me and raised his hands and landed it on top of my head. It just stayed there. He patted my head and ruffled it. I didn’t care about my hair being messed up, I thought, “What.”

Just literally, “What.” What without a question mark but with a period. Because WHAT.

“Hang in there! We won’t be stuck here forever!”

Please, God, don’t let me melt in front of Yang Yoseob. It would look disturbing and embarrassing. And please slow down my heart just this once, I feel like collapsing.

As he released his hand, he went back to trying out number that he think is right and pressed the phone to his ear. I on the other hand absentmindedly touched my own head. I wanted to fly. I was too happy. I’m ready to die now.

“Ah, sorry, wrong number! Have a good day!” The receiver wouldn’t know just how lucky he/she is.

“Why don’t,” it came out rough so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Why don’t you call your members?”

“We have a free day today from all the practices we had all month, so all of them are doing their own activities. I can’t just disturb them.”

“Why are you here then?”

He looked in front of him, looking at something distant. “Hmmm. I thought to myself why does Junhyungie like this place so much, so I tried spending time inside it. And I finally thought, wow this place is really amazing. Junhyungie is really amazing.”

I nodded. I wanted to cry. He’s such a great person and I’m horrible. “You won’t get out of here if you just sit there...”

“Only me? You’re with me too.”

Here come the butterflies again. Dangerous little butterflies, I could digest all of you if I know how to do it myself.

We stayed silent for a few minutes before Yoseob took his guitar again and started strumming, humming to a specific song I do not know. He seemed alright with the situation so I should be too. But the fact that I put the both of us into this makes me feel bad. I think I’d be fine if I was the only one locked inside, but I also think being alone with Yoseob is better than being with a snake that would be very glad to eat me alive.

I was thinking of possible conversations to start off. I wouldn’t bother about it though, since Yoseob is busy with his guitar. But I can’t stop thinking of something to just say.

“Yoseob.” If that startled Yoseob, the more did I. I was meant to say that in my head. So much mistakes that were made and it is still in the morning. I started panicking in the inside and fumbling my bag handle with my fingers.

“Hm?” He was looking at me. I can see that just by looking down. Oh dear god.

My heart is beating so fast and loud. Now that it is utterly silent, I’m afraid he can hear it.

“What...” I was looking through the deepest parts of my mind for something to say. In the end, I got nothing and just let my mouth do the wonders: to just say what it wants.

“Never mind,” I heard my mind say.

“What’s your opinion about global warming?” I heard my mouth say.

I didn’t just say that.

But I just did.

But I didn't mean to.

But I just did.

I can’t believe myself. I can’t believe anything happening afterward, because Yoseob didn’t laugh at my question. It wasn’t meant to be answered. It’s a mistake. I wanted to hit myself. I wanted to tell him he shouldn’t answer it but I was too shock with myself to even speak.

He looked confused at first and leaned his back more on couch and looked at the ceiling. I looked on top too to see what could possibly be written on there, but there were none. I went back to looking at Yoseob. I would never get used to how cute and handsome he actually is. And how his nose is so adorable and I want to rub it with my nose too. And how his hair carelessly falls to his forehead and I want to ruffle it like what he did to me just a while ago. And his lips... Nope, better not get to that. I’m losing my sanity near this guy.

“Well, it’s either too hot or too cold nowadays; it’s bad for my throat.” I was more surprised to know that he actually answered my random question.

“Ah, is that so.” I muttered, now watching my feet swinging back and forth. I was more than glad the conversation can now be handled easier. “How do you protect your throat? I mean, you’re doing something about it right? With that amazing voice, you’re really great at taking care of it. You value your voice like I value my...” I pointed at the air to find any comparisons. “...laptop. Maybe much more than that.”

He looked really amused, like he was going to laugh. “I drink tea and water most of the time and wrap a blanket around my neck every night. Great comparison, by the way.”

“Why, thank you.” I bowed curtly with my head and nodded. He was smiling differently this time, and it made my stomach flip even more. There’s something to it that I do not like because I’m actually falling for it. “What?”

“You’re finally warming up on me! Hey, Hyojung, we’re friends now so don’t be too cold on me.” He pouted like a child. When was I ever cold to him, though? That I noticed before my stomach does those summersaults again because he just called me his friend. His friend. Me? Yang Yoseob’s friend? Just wow.

Hiding my inner thoughts (even though those are already hidden, but I really think my face was giving off what I’m thinking), I smirked at him and leaned a tad bit closer. The closer I get, the faster my heart beats. But the only way to train this heart and get used to him and to stop all these butterflies and knots in my stomach, is to act like I’m used to him.

“Is that so? So what are the pros and cons of being friends with Yang Yoseob?’”

He looked at the ceiling again, and I did the same, and looked down again because there wasn’t really anything to see there but plain orange.

“Ah,” he grabbed his guitar and pulled it to him, pressed his fingers on the chords and strummed. “I could sing you a song.”

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

This is bad.

This is really, really bad.

Heart, stomach and butterflies, prepare yourselves. And lungs also, brace yourselves.

“Wait, wait.” I exhaled the breath I forgot I was holding. “Do you know Japanese?”

I weakly nodded.

“I tried doing some translations and translated one of our songs. Cons: you get to judge it, alright?”

I idly gave him one thumbs up because I was too stunned to speak.

[lyrics sang in Japanese, bring your imaginations to a whole new level!]

How to love, how special are we?

How to love, I still don’t know how to love.

He started strumming.

This isn’t a test, why do we keep trying to critique and give each other a score?

That’s it. I’ve lost it on the rapping part. He wasn’t even rapping because he slowed down the tempo but I stopped understanding every word and started listening.

Oh my god. Help me.

I don’t care about the Japanese lyrics. And I don’t care about being alone in the recording with Yoseob anymore. And for once, I didn’t care about how my heart was beating too fast it was harder for me to breathe. All I cared was Yoseob singing to me. Only to me. Who cares if he wants me to judge his translation skills, just him singing for me is enough. Just let me believe that this is a Yang Yoseob solo concert meant just for me. My own private concert. I’m getting crazy. I’m seriously losing it.

The sweet melody filled my ears and danced its way to my heart, and fell to the pit of my stomach, explaining how knots started forming inside my stomach. My butterflies probably liked i since it just started flying around widely and I felt weightless. This effect Yoseob has on me is no joke. And I like it. I like it so much I don’t want him to stop.

“How was it? Everything correct?”

“Perfect.” I whispered under my breath.

“Really?” he sounded so excited.

I had to blink a couple of times to remember what situation am I at again, and what did I just said before he said “Really?”. I could still hear him singing in my ears. I stared at him before blinking again and running my fingers through my hair. “Did you write that down somewhere?”

He pulled it out from behind him. Woah, didn’t know it was there all along. I read the whole thing and held out my hand, silently asking him to hand me his pencil. I changed a few grammar mistakes but they were all better than expected.

“Hey! You said it was perfect...”

“I was talking about your voice, idiot.”

Oh shoot. Wrong words again, Song Hyojung!

“Don’t call me idiot when you yourself asked me about global warming.” He talked back, with a smirk on his face. I always forget he can also be something besides cute.

“I didn’t know what else to say, okay.”

Was I really warming up to him, like freaking global warming?

I chortled, avoiding my own question.

“Was that singing really necessary when you had this the entire time?” I asked, showing the paper to him.

“Not really.” He admitted and I gaped at him. All that singing that nearly killed me wasn’t really necessary. If that didn’t even happen, I wouldn’t be such a suffocated mess. “More like a welcome to my friendship.” He joked.

I shook my head and thought aloud. “I would like it if it was a ticket to the more secret concerts to come.”

“What was that?” I was thankful for him not hearing the things I think aloud and if that’s not it, then I’m thankful for him to pretend he didn’t hear anything because he knows it would embarrass me.

“I said your voice is to die for, friend.” I said, before my phone suddenly started ringing. Way to kill the moment.

A/N:

Was this too long? ;~; i srsly dont know how to divide words into chapters coz im kinda dumb but i keep on updating anyway because it makes me happy ^u^

and i know my titles are nonsense pls help me