“You up writing again?” Sungyeol yawned and stretched as he made his way to the couch next to Myungsoo’s desk. Myungsoo’s “studio,” as he liked to call it although it was no more than a small, crowded room with a computer, a keyboard, a guitar, and a sofa, was Myungsoo’s haven. Sungyeol knew where to look for him if Myungsoo ever went missing.

Myungsoo merely hummed in response. He didn’t even bother to look up from his notebook, strewn with illegible (in Sungyeol’s opinion) words and chords to match it. He continued to strum different chords on his guitar and hummed a potential melody to his new song.

“It’s already 3 am, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“You look like a panda with those nasty dark circles of yours.” Sungyeol yawned again, head on the armrest of the too-small-for-him couch. Sungyeol stared at the back of his roommate’s head through half-closed lids.

Myungsoo suddenly swirled around in his chair, guitar dangerously close to banging against Sungyeol’s head. “There’s just this beauty to music. It’s a whole new universe that I can escape you know.” His eyes twinkled, something Sungyeol knew only music could do. “Lyrics are absolutely magical—“ He waved his pencil around like he could procure sparks from the tip of the wooden utensil. “—I can write about anything I want to, from heartbreak to drugs and . And no one would actually care.”

“Well, Koreans tend to be very sensitive about topics like that—“

“I was really close to becoming an idol once,” Myungsoo said, ignoring Sungyeol’s remark all together. “I quit when I realized how tied up by the company and society I would be. I like being more of a free soul. Anyways, I used to write lyrics all the time as a trainee too. That’s where I learned to love music.”

“Didn’t you audition because you loved music?” Another yawn.

“Not exactly. But either way, I love it now. But I’ve learned along the way that it’s a lot easier to write when you have someone to write about.”

Sungyeol’s eyes were completely closed now, and he was on the verge of falling asleep.

“Do you have someone to write about now?” Sungyeol missed the look and the smile directed toward him.

“Maybe.”

“Cool.”

“Go to bed, Yeol. You don’t even fit on the couch.”

“Same goes to you.”

---//---

The first time he held a gun, he was terrified. The first time he shot one, his knees gave out. And the first time he killed a person, he out.

When he opened his eyes hours later, he found himself in the safety of his room, only to be shot back into the darkness of fear by his father. “You did a good job.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. Good job? Stealing a life was rewarded with a compliment. He turned around, back facing his parent in an attempt to completely ignore his presence. But his dad went on about how he knew Sungyeol would do well, even on the first job.

“Dad, I’m not like you. And I don’t want to work under you anymore,” Sungyeol spat. He regretted his words when he literally felt the air in the room grow cold.

His dad was tense but ignored Sungyeol’s confrontation. “Sungyeol, you have the potential to be an ace. A key player. You have a good eye and impeccable aim. Rest for now. You seem really worked up.” He pulled the sheets up, tucking Sungyeol in. “And don’t you dare say you’re leaving. Ever,” his dad added menacingly.

He shivered, even under the warmth of his sheets.

---//---

Myungsoo always knew. When he was young and his mom read him fairytales, he always wanted to wait for his Prince Charming, not the other way around. He didn’t like the idea of being the knight in shining armor, riding a majestic white horse only to save some spoiled princess.

He didn’t even like horses.

In elementary school, he asked his teacher why she always used pink for girls and blue for boys and why she refused to let him use pink. His parents were called to school for a conference with the teacher a couple months later. Apparently, playing with Barbie dolls instead of actions figures was a big deal.

He got the talk after his parents came home from the conference. As an adult, he only remembered hearing the words “girl” and “boy” being emphasized over and over and how only together, babies were made. Myungsoo never said it out loud, but he was not looking to make babies. Boy, was he sure glad he wouldn’t have to deal with hormonal, moody pregnant woman. (He would know because that’s exactly how his mother was when she was pregnant with his younger brother.)

In middle school, his parents were happy that he was bringing girls home. They thought his girl friends were his girlfriends. When all their nagging and lecturing lessened, he never bothered to explain the situation to them.

In high school, his parents got him to audition for an entertainment company. He overheard his mom telling his dad that “being around a lot of pretty girls might help him.” They talked about him as if he had some kind of illness, and he wanted to barge in and say that he was just fine. But when he did enter the company, surrounded by trainees all striving for their dream, he couldn’t help but be pulled along for the ride.

What I have so far.. Comment or subscribe~ (or not....) Warning: there may or may not be a happy ending. Let me know which you'd prefer!