Ryeowook pressed down on the piano keys softly, listening to the final notes fade away. The melody was a painful one but he would be lying if he said it didn’t calm his nerves. He hadn’t touched any alcohol for almost a week and already his heart was feeling better…but the problem was everything else was getting worse.

He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t concentrate. Everything was far too loud and bright. There were so many voices floating around and so much obnoxious laughter. It really wasn’t fun being sober. Ryeowook closed the piano sullenly, sighing. At least YoungSaeng was kind enough to stop drinking when Ryeowook came back for the night.

The older boy never said a word about it but every single time, without fail, he would put away the beer or vodka or whatever and simply get ready for bed. Ryeowook had to admit he liked the unspoken relationship. It made communicating easier, if that made sense.

“It’s getting late…,” Ryeowook mumbled to space, collecting his things and walking towards the door. He opened it, pushing out and trudging down the near silent hallway. Although the boy spent so much time in the Music Hall, he would never get over how eerie it could be, especially during the twilight hours. That was the worst for some reason. Ryeowook had a hunch it was due to the way the sun fell over the trees and created those black shadows everywhere. Then again, maybe he was exaggerating from the lack of buzz.

Soft noises abruptly cut into the pianist’s thoughts and he froze, looking around. No one else was in the building right? Ryeowook carefully craned his neck, trying to see further down the abandoned corridor. As far as he could there was no— There it was again! He swallowed, cautiously proceeding.

The sounds seemed to grow louder and then relief was washing over him – only a bit though. Someone was in the building with him – a shock in itself. He had no idea anyone spent that much time on their music aside from Henry and well, Ryeowook.

But there was something odd about the style. It wasn’t classical…or even acoustic. That was certainly a voice but… Ryeowook leaned towards the door separating him from the unknown musician. It sounded like rapping. The boy furrowed his brow, pressing slightly on the door only to realize it wasn’t locked – or even closed.

He staggered forward, squeaking and crashing to the ground in a messy heap. A groan bubbled from his lips, a throbbing in his shoulder. Ryeowook opened one eye, picking himself up and rubbing his sore side. Why wasn’t the door shut properly? He looked around, seeing a lone figure standing further into the room. Unintentionally, Ryeowook lifted his eyes up to the figure and he swore, everything stopped for a moment.

Mir stared wide eyed at the other boy. His mouth was dangling open, a prop microphone in his hand. A tilted, stylish cap pressed his unruly dark hair down in a fashion that was far too cool for his awkward-boy image. “R-Ryeowook?” he stammered, lowering the amplifier and hurrying over to help the fallen boy up. “What are you doing here?”

“Was that you Mir?” Ryeowook asked, ignoring the question and climbing to his feet unsteadily.

The taller boy flushed, looking away. “Y-Yeah…”

“It was really cool!” Ryeowook praised, smiling a tad warily. It wasn’t because Mir annoyed him or because his words were a lie. In general, he found it difficult to smile whole heartedly – it often came out tired rather than sincere, no matter how sincere he tried to be.

Mir didn’t seem to notice though, his dark eyes cast southward. “Thanks…but, could you not tell anyone…about this I mean?” he stuttered, face reddening even more. His fingers twiddled nervously with the microphone, seeming to have trouble holding it up.

“Oh, sure,” the other boy replied, confused. “But Mir, why don’t you want to share this with anyone? That was so awesome! I bet a lot of people would want to…oh yeah, I forgot,” Ryeowook chuckled uncomfortably.

“Mmhmm,” Mir mumbled, “I don’t want anyone coming to talk to me.” He shifted on his feet, eyes slowly rising to look at Ryeowook. “I heard you practicing earlier…It sounded good…”

Now it was the red head’s turn to color. His lips curved up in a small smile. “You heard it?” At Mir’s confirming nod, Ryeowook went on, “I’m glad you liked it. That song helps calm me when I’m nervous. …Is that what rapping is like for you?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, a speck of eagerness flashing in his eyes, “it helps me relieve myself of stress. Sometimes my roommate Thunder will join me too.”

Slowly, yet surely, the awkwardness in the air was fading. Ryeowook sighed with relief at the lessening pressure. It was suffocating as they tried to start up a conversation and maintain one. But…somehow it was working. Maybe that’s what real friendship was? Neither of them was sure though – neither of them had ever really had friends.

“How’ve you been?” Ryeowook prompted softly.

Mir shrugged a bit. “Everything isn’t bad. I have to go talk to Tech Crew…I’ve missed a lot of stuff because I was with Taemin,” he blushed then, looking about ready to faint from the mere memory of…well, whatever it was – probably something erted.

“Oh! Did you get contacted by the new president too? I think his name is Dongwoon?” Ryeowook asked, eyes widening slightly.

“An email,” Mir clarified, walking over to a stand and setting the microphone down. “I’m heading over to the Tech Shop after dinner.”

“Ah, that’s cool,” Ryeowook grinned, “are you going to try and help with the Spring Musical?”

“You should too,” he stated, eyeing the shorter boy with puzzlement, “Do you still go to club?”

The latter hesitated but when he saw that it was pointless to lie, a sigh slipped from his mouth. “No, I haven’t been. Actually…I haven’t been doing much of anything. So I guess we’re sort of in the same boat huh Mir?”

“Guess so,” the dark haired boy mumbled, stuffing the cap into his messenger bag and walking towards Ryeowook again. “I was going to meet Sungmin for dinner…do you want to come?” His jaw was clenching and unclenching anxiously whilst his eyes stayed impassive. It was one of Mir’s cute points. He always appeared at ease but in reality, he really thought about everyone’s feelings towards him. Every time he asked for something or offered something, the boy practically had a heart attack from nervousness.

Ryeowook nodded happily – happy for the distraction. Anything was better than thinking about going back to the dorm room, grabbing a beer and chugging until the clean gears of his mind rusted over.