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BAEKHYUN

Some said PeachPanda always had some music playing on his local, and some others said he had the perfect song for any mood you could come up with. They said, too, that he was a huge fan of certain radio stations and even a bigger fanboy of latin music. Maybe that’s the reason why he could speak spanish so well, or maybe that was just another proof of his connections with the mafia. However, it was easy to prove that at least the first thing was a fact.

Everytime BaekHyun passed in front of the shop (or studio or whatever) (in a taxi, of course), he could hear those lively rhythms all across the street. Said street was a very... hideous one. Not the type of place he was used to, but then, it made sense. If one had anything to do with that particular district, it probably meant problems. He was taught the same as all of his friends and neighbors and none of them, except BaekHyun, had reasons to go there.

And heaven knows he had some really good reasons.

He was all on his own, wearing pink pastel tones while standing in front of a full building decorated with neon signs, ripped posters and weird graffitis. As his taxi disappeared in the distance, he basically jumped in there with this alarm ringing on his head. There was no way back, and he was finally there. After days of thinking about it, debating out the questions, pros, cons, consequences... He finally made it.

He entered into PeachPanda’s building, followed the instructions to reach for his studio and- Was it closed?

No, of course it wasn’t closed. It couldn’t be. He pushed the door and it had no sign saying it was OPEN, but neither had anything saying CLOSED. It was very informal, actually; more like a workshop than a studio or whatever. He even saw some doors that may led to those rooms where the artist, well, tattooed and erased and all of that stuff he did. BaekHyun felt like waiting in a comfy, minimalist living room for some friend to get back rather than some guy to come and receive a payment to do something kind of strange. Like, yes, he got there expecting something shadier.

Still, nothing changed the fact that he was alone in the room, surrounded by frames, even more posters, a TV with music videos on a loop, a small refrigerator and a huge, good-looking red couch right beside a small but large showcase of tattoo designs that he couldn’t help but stare, getting closer to the glass so he could see them clearly. No letters. Some had flowers, animals or people, but none of those had letters. That was... well, pretty cool. BaekHyun smiled at the detail, as if he could understand what the arti