When Junmyeon goes to his lesson the next week, Jongdae isn’t the one to greet him. For a moment, Junmyeon thinks that he knocked on the wrong door, even though this apartment is clearly Jongdae’s.

“Oh, you’re Jongdae’s student, right?” the person asks, moving aside so Junmyeon can enter.

“Yeah.” Junmyeon takes his shoes off and looks around the apartment. “Is he around?”

“He’ll be back soon. I’m Jongdae’s roommate, Baekhyun,” Baekhyun says, closing the door and locking it. “He told me to let you in. You can take a seat on the couch, I guess.”

“Thanks.” Junmyeon sits down on the couch carefully. He hasn’t ever sat on the small couch in the the living room over the months that he’d studied with Jongdae. He half expects Baekhyun to leave him and go into his bedroom, but instead, Baekhyun takes a seat beside him on the couch.

“So how long have you been studying with Jongdae?” Baekhyun asks. He’s leaning in too close. The couch may be small, but there’s a considerable margin of space on Baekhyun’s other side. Junmyeon scoots away a little, feeling somewhat threatened.

“A few months,” Junmyeon says. He hadn’t been really keeping track of the exact time, but he does know that the most important contest that he’d been preparing for is coming up soon.

“What do you think about him?”

There’s something about Baekhyun’s tone that makes Junmyeon feel like he’s being interrogated, and he shifts uncomfortably under Baekhyun’s intense gaze. “He’s a good pianist, I guess.”

“You guess?” Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. “Have you heard him play before?”

“Not really,” Junmyeon confesses. He’d heard Jongdae playing for him so he’d know what the song would sound like, but he’d never heard Jongdae’s formal playing.

“Hold on.” Baekhyun goes into his bedroom, and Junmyeon hears a few banging noises before Baekhyun walks out again, holding a CD in one hand. “Here.” He shoves it in Junmyeon’s hands. “It’s one of Jongdae’s most recent recordings. He gave me a copy, but you can have it. I don’t really listen to classical music, anyway. Take it,” he insists, when Junmyeon tries to protest. “You can’t learn from someone without knowing the extent of their skills.”

Junmyeon has no doubt about Jongdae’s skills, but he accepts the CD anyway. He’s admittedly curious about how good Jongdae really is.

“Jongdae told me that you’re still in high school,” Baekhyun says, as Junmyeon slides the CD between his lesson books. “Are you planning on studying music in college?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why?” Baekhyun presses, and Junmyeon looks away from his prying gaze.

He’d never intended studying music. His parents hadn’t been supportive of Minseok’s decision to major in music in college, and although they’d never directly said so, they clearly wanted Junmyeon to do something more substantial, something that they could proudly display to all of their friends. And Junmyeon—Junmyeon doesn’t think he could, anyway. He isn’t nearly as good as Minseok, and if Minseok barely managed to continue, Junmyeon doesn’t think he could follow in his brother’s footsteps. “I’m not that good at music,” Junmyeon settles for, rather than trying to give Baekhyun a long, detailed explanation.

“You don’t have to be good at music to pursue it. Skill mostly comes from practice, not talent.”

Junmyeon knows this, but he can’t imagine dedicating himself solely to music. Even if he can’t imagine not playing the piano in the future, he also can’t imagine playing the piano every day for hours. “There are just other things I want to do,” he says, and Baekhyun seems to accept this statement, nodding and tapping his foot against the ground.

“Just do whatever makes you happy, I guess,” he says, patting Junmyeon on the shoulder. “Relax a little. You’re so serious it’s cute.”

Junmyeon turns his head to stare at Baekhyun incredulously. He hasn’t been called cute in years, much less for a reason as ridiculous as this.

Baekhyun just laughs at him. “You’re not that different from what Jongdae described. He talks a lot about you, you know,” Baekhyun adds. “He’d been really nervous when he was asked to teach a student, but when he met you, he couldn’t stop talking about you. He even said he’d rather meet you than go partying with us on Fridays. Oh, speaking of which, I have to go to the bar later today.” Baekhyun looks down at the screen of his phone. “Jongdae’s going to be back soon. I’ll go get ready…”

Junmyeon nods, waving at Baekhyun as the other walks into his room again. He still feels oddly warm after Baekhyun’s words. Mostly, he’s honored by Jongdae’s opinion of him, although it does make him feel pressured to do better to please Jongdae. Jongdae has never really given anything away by his expression alone, so it’s oddly flattering to hear Baekhyun’s words, even if Jongdae had never intended for Junmyeon to hear them.

Baekhyun finishes getting ready before Jongdae even comes back. It takes him minutes to change into a low-necked shirt and tight jeans and to style his hair. He does a little pose by the doorway. “How do I look?”

“Okay?” Junmyeon says, the tone of the last syllable tilting upwards like a question.

Baekhyun just grins and sits back down beside Junmyeon. “Don’t worry. When you go to college, you’ll learn all about the partying life.”

Junmyeon doubts he will, but he nods anyway.

Baekhyun spends the next few minutes telling Junmyeon about various partying experiences he’d had over the years, most of which make Junmyeon have a more negative impression of college partying. He cuts off abruptly when the front door opens. “Jongdae!” Baekhyun jumps up and enthusiastically runs over to Jongdae. “I thought you’d never come back. I have to go,” he adds, and slams the door behind him as he runs out.

Junmyeon stands as Jongdae walks into the living room.

“Hey, you haven’t been waiting too long, have you?” Jongdae greets him, a bright smile on his lips.

Junmyeon shakes his head. “Just a few minutes. Baekhyun was… amusing.”

Jongdae laughs. “He is.” Jongdae walks over to the piano and stands behind the bench. He turns to look back at Junmyeon. “He… didn’t tell you anything embarrassing, did he?”

“Nothing too embarrassing,” Junmyeon assures him, and he runs a finger along the plastic covering of the CD.

“Your playing has gotten better.”

Junmyeon starts and presses the wrong key on accident, causing the chord to resonate horribly in the room. He hadn’t heard the door opening, and he hadn’t expected anyone else to still be in the music room after school. “Oh, it’s only you,” he says, when he sees Yixing. He scoots over to make some room on the piano bench, and Yixing sits down beside him.

“What do you mean, it’s only me?” Yixing nudges Junmyeon playfully.

Junmyeon shakes his head, looking back at his sheets of music. “Nothing, you just scared me.”

“I know that. Is that your piece for the competition?” When Junmyeon nods, Yixing says, “It’s really good. Have you gotten inspired recently?”

“A little,” Junmyeon admits. “I’m taking extra lessons from a college student, and he’s really helpful.” Yixing stares at Junmyeon a moment too long. “What?” Junmyeon asks defensively.

“What’s with the creepy smile?”

Junmyeon touches his face self-consciously. “I’m not smiling.”

“You just were. You like him, don’t you?” There’s something relentlessly blunt about Yixing’s question, and Junmyeon blinks at him blankly. They’ve been friends for years, but he still hadn’t expected Yixing to read him that easily. “I think you should tell him.” Yixing claps Junmyeon on the back as he stands. “Good luck.”

He doesn’t make it clear whether he’s wishing Junmyeon good luck on the competition or on the confession, and Junmyeon—Junmyeon doesn’t try to ask.

Junmyeon doesn’t listen to the CD until nearly a week after his lesson with Jongdae. He isn’t really one to listen to classical music in his free time either, unless if it’s a piece he’s playing, but he wouldn’t mind listening if it’s Jongdae.

He stares at the characters spelling out Jongdae’s name and the name of the songs on the track before putting the CD into his laptop and clicking on the first track.

He only means to listen to the first few songs, but he finds himself sitting through the whole hour and a half, listening to all of the songs on the disk. There’s something mesmerizing about Jongdae’s playing—the same passion that had captivated Junmyeon, and maybe had even affected Junmyeon’s own playing.

Junmyeon listens to the songs as he finishes his homework, and sits at his desk for a long time afterwards, staring blankly at the laptop’s screen as he finishes listening to the disk. During the breaks between songs, he thinks back on his conversation with Yixing. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts—these feelings which have probably exceeded simple admiration—for someone so much older, so much more talented. But there’s nothing wrong with confessing. He falls asleep with the last song on the disk, and maybe—maybe—a bubble of hope just beyond arm’s reach.