Description: when the bass reverberates within you, there’s no fighting it – the story of how Young K tries to teach you bass

Author’s note: For sooyoung-shidae, sorry I took so long to get this out; I gave the original idea a huge twist but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Inspiration: The opening scene is inspired by the story “Paris for One” by Jojo Moyes – highly recommend her books if you’re looking for romance and slice of life stories rolled into one!

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Y/N POV

I’m at my wits end. I’ve been trying for hours, but I still couldn’t get this particular chord progression right! No matter how many times I’ve listened to the same piece over and over again, certain that I’ve already memorised the timing and correct sequence of chords, I still couldn’t get the right timing and I end up messing up the rest of the song. I fumble with pressing and plucking the right chords and by now, my fingers were raw, the tip of them stinging with pain on the cold winter night. I set the bass down for a while, sinking into the soft sofa as my hands shivered from the overexertion, the slight tremors a sensation unwelcomed by my body.

I glared at my bass guitar with loathing and hatred, as though it was his fault that I couldn’t play it well.

One more time. One more shot at this. If I still can’t get it, then I’m calling it a day.

-

Young K POV

I’m not going to lie. That bass guitar playing was really awful.

I was on the way back to the dorm after spending the entire studio cooped up in the studio practising bass with cups of black coffee to get me through. I managed to leave with my fingers red but heart satisfied; the method of keeping me awake and sane once again tested and proven. I was expecting a quiet, peaceful walk back but as usual, life likes to surprise you a little. The window was open so I could hear each chord that broke through the silent night very clearly. The pre-chorus started out very well – the progression were smooth and on time, staying through to the original composer’s idea of the song. The chorus was where he or she messed up really badly. The timing between each chord was off and the note didn’t come out the way it should – it sounded like a piece being haphazardly put together, like patches on a piece of quilt work.  Towards the end, the player was just playing however she liked and I’m not even sure if I can call that music anymore – it seems more like individual notes being put together in desperation. When the song ended, the sound of a dying whale can be heard from the open balcony and I had to place a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from laughing out loud.

Let’s try something now…

ping my bag, I took out my bass, and simply began to play the exact same song.

-

Y/N POV

Nope, I still can’t get it.

Letting out a strangled cry from my throat as I buried my head in the hands, I berated myself for the poor playing just now – wondering how on earth I am going to be presentable for new performance, Maybe I should call Megan and tell her that I can’t do it.

I had typed out the message swiftly and was all ready to press send – until I heard the sound of my saviour.

The first few chords started out low and deliberate, giving me the feeling of a predator creeping up on a prey. With the hairs of on the back of my neck standing and nerves tingling, I went out to the balcony and looked down below at the source – and I was captivated the moment I laid eyes on him.

He played the bass like he owned it, the guitar doing his bidding with every pluck and press of the strings. His entire body swayed with the music, his face a mixture of concentration and ecstasy as he switched between carrying the music, and letting the music carry him instead. It was like watching a magic show, him the magician and me the audience; I completely submitted to him, the magic of his music ensnaring me within his grasp.

When he ended, he turned to look at me, clearly aware that I was watching him all this while. He then tried to suppress a smile as I stared with my mouth agape. He then opened his mouth to say the words I’ve been wanting to hear.

“I can teach you how to play bass if you want to.”

I closed my mouth and nodded – I wasn’t going to let this chance slip away.

-

The next day, you ended up outside a studio with your bass slung around your shoulders before you knocked on the door.

A familiar voice came through – “Come in!”

Peeking a head through, you greeted Brian before stepping into the threshold. He hastily cleared away empty coffee cups and scattered pieces of paper filled with black ink.

“Rushing a deadline?”

“Yea, it’s just pure madness at this point in time. I’m so sorry you had to see this mess.”

“It’s alright, I’m used to such a sight.”

His raised eyebrows indicated that you should probably explain yourself.

“I’m part of a school band and this is how it looks like on days when we aren’t practising.”

“Ah~ you can hand me your bass now.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll just do some tuning for you, I could hear some loose chords last night.”

Without another word, you slung the bass of your shoulder a