“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it,” Seunghyun’s editor says through the phone. He can’t honestly ever remember her sounding so pleased. It’s exciting and frustrating all at the same time.

"This is like nothing I’ve ever read by you before. I’ll want to check back with you in a month, just to see what you have, and if to find out if your draft really is publishable.”

“Wait-” Seunghyun started, but thought better of it. “Yes ma’am,” he sighs, before hanging up the phone. He can’t feed her any of his excuses. The draft that he’s just sent her is shabby at best, and hasn’t been touched for a week. He’s been holding his breath like a twelve year old schoolboy, hoping he’ll run into Kwon Jiyong again, but of course fate isn’t so kind. He feels like ever since the two have parted, his well of inspiration has run dry—which is a dangerous position for him to be in. It’s stupid—more than stupid, really—and he knows it.

He shuffles to his bathroom, placing his hands on both sides of his sink, at looks up at his tired face in the mirror.

“Hey idiot,” he says, sneering at his reflection, “pick yourself up. This is not a time to whine or make excuses or mope. You’ve really got something here! Something good! You’re going to do whatever it takes to get this finished okay?” He glares at himself for a moment longer, waiting for the words from his pep-talk to sink in. It isn’t the only pep-talk he’s given himself. He has learned a long time ago that the only person who always there for Seunghyun, is Seunghyun. He has to look out for himself, motivate himself, and believe in himself, because he knows no one else is going to do it, and that’s for damn sure.

He needs fresh air, so he grabs his notepad and heads out the door. So many faces pass by him as he walks to the park that they all start to look similar. The sound of evening traffic, which normally has an odd musical quality to Seunghyun’s ears, is nothing more than incessant noise.

He picks up his pace, in a rush to get to the park, playing through plot lines in his head. Where on earth is he going to take this story? Of course he should have thought of that from the beginning. No character—or person, for that matter—should exist without a clear ending destination set. Perhaps he could take out some of his own frustrations and put them in the story. If it didn’t work out, at least it would be cathartic. And why wouldn’t it work? Stories with struggling heroes and heroines had been successfully in use for centuries. Perhaps his main character that he had so cleverly and subtly modeled after himself could become a sort of parallel. But then again, even if it was a parallel, Seunghyun didn’t know where his storyline was going to end, so how could he possibly imagine one for his character?

He sits on a park bench, his mind still blank. He notices someone sitting at a fountain about 5 yards away, picking at a guitar, the gentle chords floating to his ears. The sound helps to soothe his agitation a bit. He stares down at his notepad, determined to be productive.  A struggling main character? Sure. An end goal? He has the word circled about a hundred times. He stares at it, thinking. It honestly couldn’t be so bad coming up with a happy ending. It may not be entirely realistic, but thinking back on what his editor has told him, it’s what the people want. Happiness sells, after all. Not all people are content to read about and wallow in misery as he is.

And in a moment, he’s lost in drabbles. He’s shaping his faceless protagonist, not only giving him a name and an age, but a purpose and a place. A goal. A desire. A dream. The place he drifts off to isn’t far, of course. In fact, it’s rather close to home, partially because he was advised to draw from his own life. Partially because he needs some sort of release for his own emotions. And partially because he’s hoping for some sort of happy ending of his own. The problem is, he’s not sure what ending is going to make him happy. At least with his novel, it’s an easier thing to figure out.

“Oh, my God, I know you,” a cheery voice cuts into his thoughts. Seunghyun looks up from his writing, his eyes falling on a guitar-toting figure. He squints a bit, attempting to make out the stranger’s facial details. “We met last Thursday. On accident, of course.”

In a flash, everything about the face becomes instantly familiar.

“Jiyong!” Seunghyun remembers happily, attempting to ignore the fact that he sounded a little too eager. Jiyong sits beside him on the park bench, glancing at the writing pad resting in his lap.

“Still working, I see,” he says, stretching.

“Yeah, I’ve got a deadline to meet,” he says, hurriedly. “But what about you? What are you doing here at this hour?”

Jiyong lets out a silvery laugh, obviously amused at Seunghyun’s horribly masked interest in him. “I came for some late night practice,” he says, lifting his guitar slightly. “I’ve got a small performance tomorrow, and I was trying to pluck out something new before then.”

Seunghyun shoots him a look, inquiring after Jiyong’s work, simply with his eyes. For some reason, he’s quivering with excitement at running into his unexpected muse again—here of all places, and he forgets to move his lips. But Jiyong easily interprets his glance, and his smile widens, showing off his pink gums.

“I’m afraid my efforts were a failure. I’ve got some chords and I’ve got some lyrics, but the two don’t really seem to mesh up,” he says, sighing a little. There’s a brief pause. And then—“Can I try them out on you?” he asks. Seunghyun only nods, folding his notepad up.

Jiyong cradles his guitar in his lap. He clears his throat in mock professionalism and gives Seunghyun a half smile before turning his attention to the instrument in front of him. When his slender fingers slide across the strings, the raw sound is nothing short of entrancing—the melancholy notes spilling forward become the ocean upon which Seunghyun sails, taking him to wherever Jiyong desires that he should be. And when Jiyong opens his mouth to sing, his lyrics are the wind that fuels the ship forward.

My heart is the tree

On which you chose to carve our names

It hurts, but it’s permanent all the same-

“Oh!” Jiyong exclaims, snapping his fingers and cutting himself off just as soon as he’s begun. He grabs for Seunghyun’s notepad and pen, and Seunghyun watches bemusedly as Jiyong scratches out lines here and there, changes chords and underlines already existing stanzas. After a moment of silence, Jiyong ceases his scribbling and examines the page, biting his lip. With a satisfied nod, he tears the page from the notepad and folds it up.

“Don’t I get to hear what you’ve come up with?” Seunghyun asks with a laugh as Jiyong returns the notepad and pen.

“Eventually, yeah,” he grins. “You know how picky we artists can be about revealing work before it’s completely done.” A crash of thunder slightly startles the two, neither aware of just how cloudy the sky has grown.  “That’s my cue,” Jiyong says and stands with a smile. “I’m really glad we’ve run into each other again!” He runs in the direction of the fountain, throwing a parting wave in Seunghyun’s direction, and Seunghyun is more than happy to stand and watch the blonde boy jaunt happily away, every coherent thought in his head flying away with each footstep Jiyong takes.

“Oh!” Jiyong turns on his heel, wheeling his rickety bike beside him. “Before I forget,” he says, pulling a pen out of his pocket and uncapping it with his teeth, “hold out your hand.”

“What?” Seunghyun asks, but Jiyong impatiently reaches for his hand and begins to scribble on the top of it. The pen pressure is firm, but light, and sends an odd chill into his chest.

When Jiyong lets go of his hand, he waves a final time and pedals away as lightning flashes across the sky. Seunghyun glances down at the thin, flourished writing splayed across his hand:

                The Blue, Friday, 7:00
__

(A/N: Well, geez, I'm just- thank you! Thank you for all of your lovely comments (which I will reply to individually for as long as I can!) and for subscribing! I'm going to kiss you! *3* I guess I didn't expect for angsty GRi to be so popular [but I'm glad it is, shhh]... I just hope I can make this angsty enough so that I don't let you down! School is starting up for me, so I'm not sure when I'll have time to update, but I'll try to do it once a week (no promises) Again, thank you all so, so much!)