The first rose appears on his doorstep, a blindingly pure white against the dull grey concrete of his apartment steps. Daehyun picks it up, the stiff cardboard that is decorated with bold lines of writing. White is for innocence. When he holds it to his nose, there is the natural sweet tinge and below are notes of masculine cologne; cloves, musk, woody tones. It is more intoxicating than the actual flower. On the back of the crisp paper, there are three letters, signalling the initials of his secret giver. 

--BYG.

Daehyun studies it for a few seconds, turning the present over in his hands as he searched for any sort of identification. Surely, it was for him if it was on his doorstep. But innocence? He isn’t sure what the cryptic message seemed to be insinuating, but it is a nice present to get after a stressful day at school. Pressing it to his nose again, he smiled gently and fished out his keys in order to open up his apartment.

His living conditions were by no means extravagant or special – after all, he is a poor college student – but he had lived in the single bedroomed apartment for a year and it has begun to feel like home. Ever since he was accepted into a prestigious art academy and moved to Seoul in order to pursue his singing career, he has been separated from his family with the exceptions of holidays. At the beginning, it was difficult without his mother and father and older brother. Coming back to an empty house with no food and no laughter and no company had Daehyun questioning his choice multiple times, but his love for music and the constant support of his family powered him through the first few months. Sometimes he woke up and still waited to hear his mother’s voice telling him to get out of bed, but now he had someone else whose laughter had become as familiar as his brothers.

His phone rang in his pocket and it brought a smile to his lips because there was only one person who it could be. Fumbling with the small device, he slid the screen in order to answer the smiling face and the person listed as Youngjae Pabo. Lifting it to his ear, Daehyun flicked hair out of his face and simply grunted as a greeting, smooth surface pressed to his cheek as he trapped it with his shoulder.

“What kind of greeting is that?!” The irritated voice on the other end brought an involuntary smile to his face as he moved through the hallways to his bedroom in order to grab his bag for academy.

“What do you want, Jae?” He asks back, grabbing the small sports bag and shoving a jacket in, along with a few snacks and the sheets of lyrics that he had been given in order to memorize for his showcase. They weren’t needed as of the moment; he knew the songs back to front. Daehyun could sing it in his sleep if he needed to. Now, he could only pray that all the hard work that he had put into his showcase would pay off and his voice would carry strong through the watching audience.

“Remember to wear something nice. Hopefully your clothing is enough to distract from your terrible voice.” Youngjae was quick with a comeback, but he could hear the undertones of teasing. They both knew that they were in the top ten percent of their academy, the products of hard work and natural talent. Daejae – the fond couple name that their peers had dubbed them. The unbreakable friends who, to the outside eyes, possibly looked like they were dating. Daehyun had been quick to deny it at first, but it never seemed to bother his best friend and after a while he also began to roll with it. There were worse people to be paired with than Youngjae.

“I have a paper bag. You can wear that over your head so that you don’t scare away any kids.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled, hearing the responding laugh on the other end of the phone. Crappy service did no justice to the smooth, sweet vocals that the younger had. Daehyun was often (secretly) jealous of Youngjae’s voice. It was nicer than his own coarse Busan dialect which sometimes marred his singing and added a weird twist on a song.

He shook the thought out of his head because now was not the time to be second guessing his talents. Not when he would soon stand in front of hundreds of people, some influential in the entertainment industry. Not when this could make or break his future in the academy.

“…Dae? DAE!” A screeching voice brought his attention back to the matter at hand and he snapped out of his daze.

“What?”

“Did you not hear anything I said?”

“It couldn’t have been very important then.”

Their banter continued for a few minutes as Daehyun shoved a pair of less crinkled jeans and a button down shirt into his bag, followed with a scarf that would be used when the temperature dropped and his vocal chords faced the threat of cooling. When Youngjae finally hung up with the promise of kicking him in the stomach, Daehyun shoved the electronic into his pocket and then went to the bathroom, filling a tall glass with water. He dropped the white rose into it, admiring the velvety petals and the card that was attached. The faintest whiff of the cologne wafted towards him and he inhaled. It calmed his nerves slightly and then he walked out, shutting the door behind him and beginning the mental preparations needed to stand on stage.

. . .

The minute that he entered their practice studio (not really, but it was the one that he used all the time), he was attacked. Arms slid around his waist from behind the door and he was pulled against a strong chest, the air being squeezed out of him by an aggressive tightening of muscles. Daehyun yelped, flailing and kicking his legs in the hopes of getting this person off – although there was only one person who would lay hands on him. His suspicions were confirmed as warm air ghosts against the back of his neck and a nose was nuzzled against his jawline.

“Stop it! You know my neck is sensitive!” Daehyun couldn’t help the almost childish whine as he struggled, mocking laugh in his ear. The arms released him and he turned around, supressing a shiver from where breath had washed over his hyper aware skin. It was a weakness of his, and only Youngjae knew about it from the one time he had jokingly run a feather down his neck. He had moaned. Loudly.

The said boy still had an annoying grin on his face and Daehyun had the urge to pinch the baby fat on the others cheeks. Youngjae had been striving to lose the excess chubbiness, despite the fact that he had assured the younger that it suited his face well. Secretly, he thought it was really cute.

An arm slung over his shoulder and he was being guided over to the piano in the corner, lid already popped up and music sheets propped against the stand. The song that they had chosen complimented both of their voices; a contrast of sweet and powerful, soft and strong. The vocal coach had praised them on their chemistry on stage and the way that they could bounce off each others emotions, but that was expected – after all, they were best friends.

Youngjae sat down in the center of the bench and Daehyun perched off one of the ends, both of them assuming their regular position. He was close enough that if he leaned back, he would be resting his back on the others shoulder but distant to the point that they wouldn’t obstruct each other.

“Ready?” Daehyun nodded at the question and Youngjae hit the first chord on the piano. It was a simple enough tune that they had both learned it, a set of notes that repeated over and over. They had mutually decided that it should be Youngjae who plays. Daehyun had the tendency to start banging on the keys when he sang.

He waited a few seconds until his cue came and then he began to sing, mouthing the now familiar words and expelling air from his lungs in the shape of rising notes. His English was still terrible; he doubted it would get any better, but the words were semi understandable and he was happy with that. Falling into the trance that always slipped over his mind the instant that music began to play and he exposed himself in the form of song, he heard Youngjae joining in as his voice faded out. The rest of the song was a smooth dream of harmony and soothing piano and then the song ended with the last resounding note. They both sat in silence for a few seconds, catching their breath again and coming back down to earth before they attempted to communicate with each other.

“Your pronunciation is still terrible.” The jibe was lighthearted and teasing, so Daehyun laughed and leaned back, fully intending on shoving into Youngjae’s side. Instead, the boy leaned backward and he fell directly into his lap, head clonking against the piano bench with a painful jar. Youngjae laughed. Daehyun joined in a few seconds later. They were still laughing when their terse vocal coach stuck his head in and told them to ‘stop fooling around and get into stage outfits’.

. . .

Stiff fabric, tight tie, uncomfortable shoes, stuffy waiting room and anxious boy was not a good combination. Daehyun ran through another scale until his voice filled the entire room with no sign of waver or cracks. He couldn’t screw up on this. This showcase was one of the most important events of the year for students in the art academy. It made up a large chunk of their ‘grades’, which determined whether they would make the final cut and be carried over into next year. The only concert with the same weighting was the summer showcase, and Daehyun would begin to prepare for that the instant the curtains drew closed.

The door opened quietly and Youngjae slipped in, dressed in a similar fashion. Black suits and white ties, wires trailing in every which direction, waiting to be connected to microphones and ear pieces. Youngjae’s hair was mussed a bit, the top sticking up and staying thanks to hair gel. His own hair was slightly messy but lying flat against his skull. They gave each other a once over, nervous laughs escaping. It was a difference from their normal school uniforms or street clothing.

“Are you ready?” Daehyun’s voice sounded distant, coming from a place far away. Perhaps a separate universe where their stage already over and he would no longer be confined between school and the small practice room. Once again, he would be able to play with Youngjae and they would do fun things other than sing and study.

Youngjae nodded – a quick up and down of his head that displayed the underlying emotions that boiled beneath the calm mask. Daehyun picked up on the quick jerks of his head, the shifts of his eyes, the way he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. It mirrored his own movements as they moved in tandem, following each other’s actions unconsciously.

Opening his mouth to try and comfort his friend, his words were cut off by the director of the show. He glanced at both of them and told them to go to the side wings in order to hook up equipment and prepare for their stage. Ten minutes and then you’re up.

With unspoken consent, Youngjae gripped onto his hand. Their palms were both slightly sweaty with nerves and the humidity of the room but they didn’t let go, needing the emotional support and friendship. Joining the river of people bustling back and forth, they fought their way to the side wings, where they were set up and all the correct wires were connected and microphones were shoved into their hands. Two minutes.

Youngjae fixed his hair and Daehyun straightened Youngjae’s tie. They shared a blissful smile, basking in each other’s presence. It was like holding onto a rock in the middle of a raging waterfall; they would stand strong together.

And then their names were being called over the speakers and they were being shooed out, into the bright lights and the gaze of hundreds.

For a few seconds, Daehyun’s pupils dilated and he stood there, star struck by the flashing cameras and the empty space of stage. The microphone in his hand suddenly felt like it was a brick, sweat pricking the back of his neck. Muscle memory guided him to the piano bench where Youngjae was already stationed, legs folding under him. There was a pregnant pause as Youngjae flexed his fingers and positioned them over the keys, and Daehyun sat still, waiting. Waiting.

The first note filled the air. And then the second and third and then his hand raised by itself, positioning the microphone in front of his lips. A fourth note and then he began to sing.

I used to think that I could not go on

And life was nothing but an awful song

Youngjae joined in, just as they had rehearsed.

But now I know the meaning of true love

I'm leaning on the everlasting arms

I believe I can fly

I believe I can touch the sky

I think about it every night and day

Spread my wings and fly away

Camera’s flashed and the swell of noise reduced to a mere whisper. It was just him and Youngjae and the piano. Together they created a symphony; a private world where it was only them inside a glass dome. Everyone else looked in but they were not privy to the inner workings of their planet.

The last key faded and a stifling silence followed. There was two seconds of absolute nothing before the crowd broke into applause, a few whistles scattered through the hundreds of people. Daehyun lowered his microphone and absorbed the atmosphere. This was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Adrenaline surged through his veins and a grin spread over his lips. Youngjae seemed to be caught in the same exhilaration because he was suddenly pulled onto his feet and the others arms are around his waist, pulling him into a tight back hug.

“We did it, Daehyunnie!” The elated voice rang in his ears and he laughed happily, gripping onto Youngjae’s left hand with his right. They raised it and then bowed low, exiting the stage to the sounds of clapping.

In the wings, they were swept into tight hugs from family members and coaches and fellow singers, all congratulating them and telling them how well they had done. When the mob had melted away slightly, Youngjae pulled him into another hug, arms secure around him. Daehyun responded by twining his arms around the others neck and holding him tight, locked in their blissful world.

Neither of them noticed the figure who watched them from behind a stage light, who watched the two of them with an unmistakable jealously in his eyes.  

___

that was the first chapter! idk if I like it or not - ill probably go back and edit it a bit / fix a few things. i have homework to do so ill try to write the second chapter soon. 

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ps - the song that daejae sang was I Believe I Can Fly. it was from one of their concerts. go look it up, its a nice song