Lee Jeno, Lee Jeno, Lee-mother-ing-Jeno.

His mother had called you right after your class and she was bawling. The letter had been sent to their house that Lee Jeno had asked for a student withdrawal. You haven’t spoken to Jeno in three weeks since it was your finals and summer was fast approaching—after your exam on Wednesday, you’d already be ready to go and take the bar exam and add a few more years to your education since you wanted go for further studies.

But you were ing livid; Lee Jeno’s name so clear on the withdrawal form, paired with his signature.

Lee Jeno had always been rather impulsive and he had always been very quick to decide things on his own but this was a whole different thing. He had spent two years in law school and now he was going to withdraw? If his grades were bad, that was another thing but his scores were average and you knew deep down that Jeno studied for his exams.

Why? Why did he suddenly drop out?

Mrs. Lee: Please talk to him
Mrs. Lee: You’re the only one who can.

You began to dial his phone number, over and over again. You knew that he had filed for the withdrawal on the Friday before. It was a Monday now and you decided to find out where he was. You called the guard of his apartment to see if he had swiped his card (Don’t ask why you had his number. You made friends with the guard the multiple times you had sent Jeno up when he was drunk at parties).

“No, ma’am. I think he hasn’t been home or he hasn’t left his apartment.”

You massaged your head.

You: Please pick up the phone.
You: We need to talk.

He read it and your eyes widened when you finally decided to give his apartment a chance. As you were dropped by Doyoung who wished you good luck, you entered his apartment and went to his room. After two minutes of knocking, you realized that he wasn’t home. There was no shuffling and when you called his phone, there was no evident ringing sound.

You looked at your phone, trying to think of what to do next when it clicked.

That is how you found yourself standing behind Lee Jeno in the rooftop. He was staring out blankly and you softened. He was wearing a hoodie and he had his hands in his pocket, deep in thought. Something told you that this Lee Jeno was different.

This Lee Jeno knew what he wanted.

“Jeno,” you said and he turned to see you standing there, in your comfy pants and oversized T-shirt. He hadn’t been sleeping and you realized that he must have thought long and hard about this. “Jeno, what’s going on?”

“I want to make music,” he told you suddenly, not missing a beat. “I want to make music and I don’t want to study anymore.”

You wanted him to finish his studies and pursue music as a hobby but Jeno knew one thing—the moment he went down this road, his parents would not let him go. He’d end up a lawyer and it was now or never. He despised the future he was going to face and he had been waking up to reality for the longest time now.

That reality to him was a nightmare.

Lee Jeno knew what you were about to say. He knew you like the back of his hand the same way you did about him. Maybe that’s why you simply nodded this time.

He knew you’d come up with logical alternatives and you knew that he’d simply refuse to follow them so you both stared at each other, Jeno’s gaze fell onto the ground.

And just like that, you told him okay.

“Okay?” he asked and you nodded again. “Okay.”

But it wasn’t going to be easy and Jeno knew that you’d take the fall for him.

That was part of all he knew—that you’d be ready to be his armor if he ever needed you to be.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Music?” Jeno’s mother screeched as you stood in front of her, your head hanging low. “Jeno, you speak to me right now!”

Jeno stood behind you. He was taller than you, bigger than you; but his arms were wrapped around your waist and he had his head pressed against your shoulder. He did not want to face the wrath of his parents and you stood there like a shield, your hands over Jeno’s that were on your stomach, tapping them repeatedly as if to tell him that it’d be okay.

“I can’t… This is preposterous! You are not going to pursue music! You are not—” His mother placed a hand over her heart and staggered backwards, Jeno’s eyes widening when he gripped your waist in fear. She was supported by his father and she sat down on the couch. “Jeno… Music is…”

You and Jeno had a plan. It wasn’t much of a plan. It was more of what Jeno wanted to do next but you didn’t want to fight him. You knew better than to waste your breath.

You believed that if he followed the plan, maybe he’d change his mind. Maybe he’d realize that music wasn’t for him and you knew perfectly well that it was the only shot to take. Jeno, on the other hand, thought that you had thought of this plan to help him.

You believed that you could get his desires for music out of his system while Jeno thought that you wanted to support him all the way.

“I…” you began, your lips. “Let’s talk in the study.”

Jeno’s father saw you squint and he seemed to pick up the cue, both his parents heading to the studio. You peeled Jeno’s hands off your body and told him to stay, Jeno nodding softly. He trusted you and this is how you found yourself sitting in his parent’s study.

You explained everything and his father nodded at the idea.

“You’re telling me that there is this music festival in Belgium?” Mr. Lee asked and you nodded.

“I think Jeno likes music but sometimes, it might be because he hasn’t had fun in a while. I mean, he can bring go to Tomorrowland and he can have fun. By then, maybe he’ll find out that he simply likes listening to music. It’s summer. Let him drink, have fun.”

“And you are sure it’ll work?” his mother asked weakly. She glanced at her husband. “Then again, I do remember wanting a bag so much but once I got it, it lost value. I didn’t want it anymore.”

Funny for her to compare her son’s dreams to a bag but you didn’t say anything.

“And he… No. If he goes, he might not come back. Jeno has always been a runner,” his father said, shaking his head.

“She can go with him. She can go with him and make sure he comes back. He listens to her,” his mother said, fanning herself. She did not ask you if you had anything to do over summer—but then you did not expect anything more from Mrs. Lee. “She’ll bring Jeno and she’ll bring him back.”

“Uh…”

“It’s just a trip,” Mr. Lee agreed. “He’ll have fun and then he can come back and retract his withdrawal.”

They said it like it was easy. Like you were the answers to their problems because at this point, their only problem was their son.

“Uh…” you found yourself saying, trying to get out of it. “I need to save up—”

They waved a hand as if to tell you not to worry about it. As if the trip was doing you a favor.

“Oh, you should have fun, too,” she said. “We’ll get it handled. The only thing you have to do is bring Jeno back. That’s all I want.”

Color had returned to her face but the color drained from yours.

“That’s it then,” she chirped. “I trust you.”

You wish she didn’t.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

You were at your apartment, Jeno on the bed, wiggling his toes happily. He had gotten what he wanted, yet again, and your plans for the holidays were ruined. You did not have any plans, Jeno pointed out. You didn’t, but you didn’t expect to spend it with him… in Belgium.

“What is your plan, Jeno?” you asked, grabbing your clothes and sorting them. The least you could do was look good—Jeno had promised good photos so you could post on Instagram. “What are you thinking of doing? You don’t even know how to play the guitar.”

“I don’t want to play instruments,” he told you, crossing his legs. “I want to be a DJ. Like Johnny Suh. I want to remix music and I have demos, look.”

You had no idea what he was talking about.

“Like EDM? Electronic music?” you asked, folding your clothes and he gave out a hum. “Is that even real music—ouch!” He had thrown a pillow at you. “I mean, it’s getting music that is already produced and mixing it again. And don’t DJ’s play a set from youtube?’

Another pillow.

“No! I have CD’s and demos and I learned how to mix live. I feel the adrenaline every time I do this, you know?” he smiled at you and you looked up just in time to see it. “And my plan is to give it to a producer in Tomorrowland. Someone like Matthew Lee.”

Matthew Lee? You frowned and you sat down, taking a break from packing. You finally searched his name and articles came up.

Matthew Lee, Producer-CEO of Square Entertainment, has signed Johnny Suh!

Matthew Lee, signed new talent!

Matthew Lee, puts up three new studios in Chicago, Canada and Taiwan!

“He’s going to be in Tomorrowland.”

“And how are you going to give it to him?”

“Sometimes, people send their CD’s through the guards. Of course, it’s not 100% they’ll listen to it… but that’s how Johnny Suh got scouted.” Jeno smiled and threw you his phone. You caught it and finally read the article.

Johnny Suh, Former Police Academy student, signed by Matthew Lee. Johnny Suh was simply another fan of EDM. He decided to take a leap of faith, throwing his CD of demos to Matthew when the producer was backstage….

My eyes ran through the article and I sighed.

“You want to throw your CD at him like this Johnny dude did?”

“I want to give it to the guards. I need to wrap it up and Matthew Lee seems like a nice person. He actu