A/N: The song featured in this chapter is “A Little Pain”, sung by Olivia Lufkin from the NANA soundtrack (Japanese anime series). I strongly recommend you listen to it when the entire song is revealed below, just open the link I placed in a new tab and play it. I gave up trying to embed a music player, AFF deletes the source code for some reason. If you know a way please help me! Listen to the song while following the English lyric translation. Maximum fic experience!

12 years ago, outside of Seoul

“Please realize
I’m here waiting for you
Even if the future awaiting us is unlike today
I’m here waiting for you
And I keep on screaming”

You tap your pencil against the pad of your notebook, mulling over the phrases you wrote an hour ago. This is going to be part of the chorus, you bit your lip as you think over the succeeding phrases, scribbling as you switch the lines around, occasionally crossing out words and replacing them with new ones.  It took another 15 minutes before you were mostly satisfied with the composition that was running through your mind earlier in school.

You held your notebook from afar, surveying the hodgepodge of words just like the other pages full of your lyrics. I hope the guys like this one, it’ll be great when we get the right sound, you mused, already wishing you scheduled a band practice tonight.

“Boo!”

You yelped when a head suddenly appeared on top of your right shoulder, causing you to wobble a bit on the branch that you were sitting on for the past two hours. The oak tree in your backyard is your sanctuary – well, until a certain family moved in next door a few years ago, bringing their energetic and nosy son with them.

“Yah! Park Chanyeol! I almost fell!” You shouted, smacking his head with your pencil.

“Ah!” exclaimed Chanyeol, rubbing his head and groaning loudly as if he’s been hit with a lead pipe instead of a wooden pencil. He balances himself to stand up on one of the thicker branches. “You always beat me up, ___-ah!  You know I can’t do that to you ‘cause you’re a girl!” He wrinkles his nose as if he’s the victim.

You stick your tongue out at him, putting your notebook beside you as you use both hands to tighten your ponytail. “You’re just saying that because you always lose.”

“Hell no! I’m already taller than you are!” He puffs out his chest and stretches out his legs to prove his point as he leans on the tree trunk.

You curl your lips at him, knowing that it’s true. Gone are the days that you can beat him in everything just because he’s chubby, short, and with poor eyesight to boot. Damn boys and their growth spurts, you thought.

“Taller, but definitely not wiser,” you pointed out, shifting a bit to hand over your notebook. “I have a new one. Just a draft. Maybe you can give your usual flair to it.” You say nonchalantly, hoping to cover your nervousness. Because as annoying and crazy that Chanyeol could be, he IS your best friend. And his opinion matters.

Chanyeol takes the notebook and goes back to leaning against the trunk, the breeze slowly starting to mess the hair that you know he pays extra close attention to. You watch him in guarded anticipation, your hands getting sweaty as he continues to read the lyrics.

He finally lifts his head and grins, excitement filling his eyes. “It’s great, ___-ah! I don’t know how you get inspiration for these.” He starts humming a random tune, his eyes moving through the words jotted on your notebook.

You soon catch on to the melody, amazed at how he can think of one so quickly. “Well, I also must say that I don’t know how you come up with the melody so fast.”

“And a while ago you just told me that I’m not wiser,” he stuck his tongue out in kind while you narrow your eyes in indignation. You stood up from the branch and grabbed the pad from him.

“C’mon, let’s work on it with the guitar.” He hops down the tree and raises his hand to help you. Instead, you drop the notebook squarely on his head.

You leap to the ground as he is rubbing his head yet again. He glares at you, while you stand on tiptoe to reach the top of his head and mess with his hair, knowing that he hates it when you do that. “There, there, Chanyeol. Why should your poor head get in the way of my notebook and gravity?”

He glares at you harder for a few moments before laughing deeply. You know he’s not the type to stay angry for too long. “Someday, I’m going to make you pay for that.” He playfully tugs at your ponytail, before stooping to get your notebook from the ground and hands it to you. You both walk towards the garage, where he keeps his guitar and drums.

“So,” Chanyeol puts his hands in his pockets as he walks beside you, “do you have a name for the band yet?”

“I don’t know, do you have one? You’re the one who rallied the guys.” You said hesitantly, walking across the lawn.

“Hey, you’re the one who thought of making one in the first place. And you mostly have the material.” He gestures towards your notebook. His eyes then lit up with an idea, “or how about we each come up with a word and see how it works?”

“Yeah! Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll go with plum.” You said, thinking of the beautiful plum trees at your grandma’s. She was also the one helped you discover your love for music.

“That’s good! I’ll go with farts!” Chanyeol flashes a triumphant smile as if the lad has just discovered the cure to cancer.

“Farts? That’s the best you can do?” You arch your eyebrows.

“What? I think the other guys will love it.”  He wiggles his eyebrows. He then starts skipping backwards to the direction of the garage but still facing you. He is bubbling with excitement over finally having a band name but then he notices that you’re still not speaking.

“Okay…you don’t like it?” He stops and looks up to search for inspiration. “Ah! Ferret! As an ode to my ferret!”

“Plum Ferret? Ferret Plum? That ferret deserted you and you want to give it a tribute?” You bend down to help him pull up the garage door.

The garage doubles as parking for Chanyeol’s parents’ car and a space for Chanyeol to play his instruments. You sit on a nearby chair, already flipping to a fresh page to annotate the music.

“It’s farts or ferret. Take your pick, ___-ah. I might lose the tune if you make me think of something else.” Chanyeol has already taken out his guitar and haphazardly strumming through it, making random combinations of chords and seeing which one will fit.

“Fine, farts then. At least Plum Farts has a ring to it.” You just pray the other guys would debunk the name.

“Okay, great…Plum Farts….” His voice fades as he continues to strum through various chords, the tip of his tongue already darting out the corner of his mouth. You know at that point that he is already lost in his own world, letting the music flow naturally from the few lines of melody he thought of a while ago. Both of you, with bent heads towards his guitar and your notebook, already exchanging ideas as you take down the notes and polishing the lyrics as the melody progresses. By the time you finished, it was already close to midnight.

“Wow, ___-ah.” Chanyeol’s voice clearly showing his awe, his eyes going through the notes and chord progressions in your notebook. “I can’t wait to make the drum score! I bet we’re going to be famous! We’ll be the most famous band in Seoul!” His eyes already twinkling when he looked at you.

“Errr, don’t get your hopes up just yet. We’re just middle school students in a provincial school.” You try to be realistic, although admittedly the rush of finishing a song that you know is good can give you misguided visions of musical success.

“C’mon, dream big with me, ___-ah! Watch out, Seoul, here comes the…uhhh…Plum Farts!” Chanyeol yelled, raising your hands along with his just like you won the Olympics.

You laughed with him, Chanyeol’s excitement rubbing off of you. “Okay, let’s go with baby steps. I wish though we can go with an all-original line-up in the school fair.”

“I know, but we have to do a couple of covers since we’re just starting. It helps with the retention.” Chanyeol packs his guitar back on its case. “We still don’t have a title for the song yet.”

“I was thinking ‘A Little Pain’” You point to the phrase in your notebook.  “I think it goes well with your arrangement. Let’s see if Binnie can pull it off, the song calls for a higher register.” You think of your lead singer and how he might protest over some of the notes.

“Uh, I was thinking you could sing it. I arranged it thinking about your voice.” Chanyeol confidently smiled as he pats your head.

You can’t help being flattered at what he did. “Um, I’ll think about it. I’m still not used to singing while playing the bass.” You look over the composition, already knowing that you’ll do it. The song is yours—and Chanyeol’s.

A Little Pain.

***

Present Day, Wabi Sabi, Hongdae, Seoul 

“Sing ‘A Little Pain’!”

Your head snaps up from your bass guitar, scanning through the crowd to see who shouted the unknown song – well in Seoul anyway – before your band closes the night. Pleasure fills your face as your eyes land on a familiar schoolmate standing a few feet from the stage. You then feel your fellow band members looking at you, smiling and waiting for your reaction.

You clear your throat and spoke into the microphone, which you rarely do given your position in the band. Sometimes you sing back up to Binnie, but mostly you just play the bass at the side of the stage. “Wow, we haven’t performed that song since we started here in Seoul…”

You glance uneasily at the rest of the crowd, but somehow the random and unknown faces seem to be eager to hear it, that never-heard-before song despite your band being fairly popular in the Seoul underground music scene for more than two years.

You tilt your head slightly, wisps of your short hair bouncing as you signal the rest of the band to get ready. “But we’ll play it…” You smile at the resounding cheers of the audience, as Binnie, Lee, and Bum start the opening strains of the song, Minhyuk waiting at the helm for the drum cues.

You think of a fitting dedication for the song, as it seems that you’ll be the one closing the night and not Binnie. A memory comes to mind and you suddenly smirk, the introductory strums already playing in the background as you say:

“For all the friends we’ve lost and would never come back.”

You close your eyes—you haven’t sung this song in three years, but you know that you can do this flawlessly in your sleep. You held the microphone tighter and let pure emotion take over.

Play music (open it in a new tab)

Travel to the moon
While you sleep, a dream untangles.
There's no one else here, while we play with the starlight

You hear Minhyuk start up the cymbals. You smile to yourself as you position your bass to enter the song.

The two of us together can definitely get back
the smile we forgot and become strong again.

Please realize
I'm here waiting for you
even if the future awaiting us is unlike today
I'm here waiting for you
and I keep on screaming
I'm sure my heart is tugging on the string that binds us,
so that the me back then will open her eyes
No need to cry.

Both you and Binnie smile at each other, happy that his voice backed up nicely against yours. You switched places with him on the stage, assuming the center, as your fingers play hypnotically against the strings of your bass guitar.

Travel in silence
I'm sure I could touch you if I reached out
but you are far away so that must be in my head.
I can hear your voice, if I close my eyes
even this little pain is dear to me

Please look at me
I'm here waiting for you
even if I'm lost alone, blown upon the wind
I'm here waiting for you
gazing up at the sky
My heart will always open my hands to protect you,
until the you back then will turn and look at me
No need to cry

There was a catch in your voice as you sang that last phrase, horrified that you let too much of your personal feelings cloud your performance. Bum glances at you from his keyboard and flashes a reassuring smile. Thankfully, it’s already the instrumental. You turn your back from the audience to calm yourself down, before facing them again, the stage lights shining a bright cast onto your sharp features.

(feel something feel nothing
listen closely listen closely)
wide open ears
disarm the dream tickler
in the constant moment
(you will find me when it's quiet
listen closely listen closely)
let the blood flow
through all the spaces
of the universe

Please realize
I'm here waiting for you
even if the future awaiting us is unlike today
I'm here waiting for you
and I keep on screaming
I'm sure my heart is tugging on the string that binds us,
so that the me back then will open her eyes
No need to cry.

You bob your head to the beat of Minhyuk’s drums, your fingers plucking the bass strings as Binnie and Lee play the riffs until the end of the song. Deafening hoots and claps followed as the entire band makes its signature bow, Binnie calling out and reminding everyone that they’ll play at the same place tomorrow night. You savor the applause until it fades. You exit the stage, removing your guitar and placing it against the stairs, to be packed up later. You suddenly feel tired, adrenalin already draining out from your body after almost three hours of performing.

“Hello noona…” a shy voice cuts your thoughts. You turn and see two young boys looking at you in—dare you assume it—admiration as both out small packages on your hands. “This is for you, noona. We really like your music.”

You can’t help but be flattered. You’re used to the boys having a lot of fangirls but you seldom get attention from fanboys. “Wow, thanks! Whatever it is, I’ll enjoy it, though I hope it’s food!” You teased.

“Yes it is!” One boy exclaimed. “We hope we get to hear your EP soon. We’re really fans of Plum Farts.”

They’re so adorable that you automatically pinch their cheeks, causing both boys’ faces to turn red. “I’m touched. We’re still working on it. Meanwhile, I hope you watch our shows and invite your friends too.” You smile and wave goodbye to the two boys as you see your bandmates signalling you to come over.

You approach them – the four guys you consider as blood brothers. You begged your parents to give you a sibling and when they didn’t, love for music was able to give you four. You notice that they are hurriedly packing their instruments. “Hey, all of you are seriously leaving?” You can’t believe that no one is even staying to give you moral support for what’s about to happen tonight.

“C’mon, ____-ah! Why are you so stressed?” Binnie laughs, massaging your shoulders while you sullenly look at him. “He’s your friend! I mean, he’s OUR friend as well,” he gestures to the rest of the band, who are all beaming at you, “but he’s YOUR friend, if you catch my drift.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

You punch him on the arm. “Damn you, why did you give him my number! You didn’t even ask me!”

“What, where’s the harm in that? You even visited his parents since we moved here…TWICE.” He laughs uncontrollably at your stupefied face. Dang it, how did he find that out?

You try your best aegyo face to the others to rescue you, which you know didn’t work one bit based on the disgusted looks they threw at you. You sigh, knowing you can barely pull of a decent aegyo on a good day, let alone in heavy eyeliner and dark lipstick.

“If you ask me, ___-ah, you really have to meet him.” Bum cuts in, deciding to finish the conversation as he is in a hurry. “Why, we even got to play ‘A Little Pain’ today of all days. I say it’s fate!” He claps both hands.

You barely form a fitting retort when they all hightailed out of the bar, waving goodbye on the way to the bartender who is also part-owner of Wabi Sabi.

You hang your head, hand retrieving the phone in your pocket as you remind yourself why you got roped into this setup in the first place.

You move your hand automatically towards your other pocket, belatedly realizing that your pack of cigarettes isn’t where it usually is. You rake your fingers through your hair; stressful situations such as this make you wish you didn’t quit months ago. The rest of the band bullied you into quitting the habit you inherited from your ex-boyfriend, saying that it will damage your vocal chords and lessen the quality of the band. And if there’s something that will spur you into action, it’s for things that will be for the good of the band. So you decided to quit, even if you rarely sing anyway.

Your phone beeps, and you see the light at the end of the tunnel when you read the display. Aha, here’s my savior, reading the text from your close friend since middle school.

 

You cursed silently, typing: Yes, I could believe it. Don’t hang yourself, hang your boss.

You wait for a few seconds for her reply:

 

Oh my god. I still have one savior left! You hurried towards her, thankful that your dongsaeng is still at her usual spot near the bar. She’s more of your friend’s dongsaeng since they played in the soccer varsity team at the University in your hometown. But you’ve gotten pretty close to her since she moved to Seoul a few months after the time that you did.

She seems to be in a daze so you snapped her out of her reverie.

“Wha---wait, you’re already finished with the gig?”

“Yeah, and the goddess cannot make it,” you showed her your phone. “Her boss made her work overtime, sorry.”

“Oh, well then, I guess I’ll get going…”

You panicked a bit and grabbed her wrist before she moves an inch, much to her surprise. You order your voice to be as calm as you can. “Wait, uh, can you go with me to the basement a bit? I just need your…uh…support. Since I can trust you.” You smiled in what you hope is a better aegyo from what you pulled off earlier. She nodded and followed you.

Bless the girl, she really is kind-hearted. She keeps giving you strange looks but she went with you to the basement, without asking what it’s about. You already feel guilty about using her as your smokescreen of sorts. I just have to get through today, then everything will be back to normal. You’re already dreading the awkwardness that will follow as you open the lights of the basement, which doubles as a lounge area for the performing bands and a storage area.

You hear a knock a few minutes after midnight, and you slowly go up the small landing to the backdoor, still hoping that whoever’s on the other side is not him. You gather some courage before turning the doorknob.

And there he is, clad in dark jeans, a bomber jacket, with a plastic bag on one hand. There was little light in the alley behind him so you cannot see his face clearly especially with his cap on. Although from his towering height, the lazy dip of his shoulders, and his broad grin, you cannot forget that this is the same boy who used to make you happy in the past.

And the one who also made you suffer since then.

He tilts his head towards you, looking at you squarely as you note the cunning glint in his eyes. His grin transforms to a devilish smile.

“Hey, ___-ah. Long time no see,” he drawled, his voice much deeper—and dammit, much ier—than you remembered.

it all. I have to get wasted tonight.

“Okay, here I am,” you cross your arms over your chest. “And I know you’re busy with your EXO stuff. So what is it that’s so important that you can’t do it over the phone?”

Chanyeol beats his palm against his chest, his eye twitching, “You wound me, ___-ah.” He said with much exaggeration. “You told me to bring you food. It’s chicken and beer, your favorite.” He jostles the plastic bag for good measure.

At least with beer on the table, you know you can get wasted in no time at all. You have super low tolerance for the drink and will help you survive the night. You can just crash on the couch instead of going back to your apartment, just like you used to when the funds ran out after moving to Seoul. “Better make it quick then, I have company.” Thank God she’s here to get me out of this mess.

Chanyeol sticks his head in and sees your dongsaeng. “Oh, it’s a girl. Great!” He takes out his phone and texted someone.

“What are you doing?” you countered.

“Having one of the guys come over.” He said excitedly, before locking his phone. “Just like a double date.” He winked at you – the guy certainly knows his charms – before elbowing his way past you, his long legs making the trip much faster as he introduces himself to your friend.

You sighed before closing the door. Yep, I have to get wasted, you convince yourself with much determination. Whatever’s going to happen, you prefer to wake up the next day and not remember a single thing.

It’s going to be a long night.

***

This night is crazy loooonnggg, Chanyeol groaned inwardly, his smile already threatening to crack at the corners from pure inner stress. It’s an hour since he arrived, and while he’s grateful that Luhan-hyung arrived and became the unwilling sacrifice for Chanyeol’s night of awkwardness and pretension, he’s starting to regret that it’s the ulzzang wonder boy who came to the rescue.

His bestfriend is already obsessed with Luhan.

“You’re lucky that the rest of the band have some post-gig stuff to do,” she directed the remark at Chanyeol while taking another sip of her beer. He notices how fast she is downing the drink for the past hour. His eyes slightly narrowed, but he keeps his smile for the sake of the other two unsuspecting witnesses of the underlying drama. “Or else they’ll bully you into making a video message for their girlfriends. Now that I’ve mentioned it, I think I’ll take one with Luhan.” She moves to take out her phone.

Chanyeol snatches her phone from her, trying to keep his jealousy in check—an emotion he is not used to despite all the years performing with 11 attractive guys.

“Haha, very funny, you know we can’t do that. You don’t even like our songs.” Chanyeol can’t help being sad about his assumption. He places her phone in the pocket of his jeans, reminding himself to return it before they leave.

“Hey, that’s not true,” she protested, although Chanyeol feels that she’s just saying it for Luhan’s sake. “I like Wolf!”

“Yeah, yeah, I can sense your judgment a mile away.” Chanyeol is bothered at the sarcasm evident in his voice. He takes another swig of his beer and switches to happy-virus mode once again. It’s the only way he can survive the night.

“Hmph, believe what you want then.” She suddenly stands up and starts singing a drunk version of Wolf in front of Chanyeol, much to his hilarity.

There’s the girl I know. Chanyeol asserted, alternating between laughing out loud and slapping his hand against the table at the crazy notes that his bestfriend is belting out. He can barely recognize the melody, although it delighted him that she even knew the lyrics in the first place.

Chanyeol is so absorbed in her antics that he only heard the tail-end of the other conversation happening simultaneously at his side.

“…I like Two Moons the best.” The other girl told Luhan.

“HEEEYYYYYY that’s MY rap!” Chanyeol’s earlier enjoyment spilling over to the other girl and Luhan. . “I think you’re just saying that because I’m here,” he teased. “I would have pegged you to be the ballad type. You’re seriously hurting Luhan hyung’s feelings.” He nudges Luhan to say something but to his confusion, Luhan seems to be…brooding? Weird, Chanyeol thought, he couldn’t imagine Luhan to brood about anything.

To Chanyeol’s surprise, Luhan suddenly stands up, saying some weird stuff about knowing the girl and that they need to talk. Before he can even blink, Luhan already dragged the girl outside, leaving Chanyeol alone – finally – with his bestfriend.

“What was that all about?” Chanyeol asks her. Clearly, Luhan has some explaining to do. But he has to take care of this first.

“Beats me,” she shrugs, already pouring another can of beer into her mug. Before she manages to empty the can, Chanyeol already takes it from her.

“That’s enough, ____-ah. You’re already drunk from the looks of it.” Of course Chanyeol knows about her beer tolerance. He’s the one who taught her how to drink in the first place.

She sticks her tongue out at him. “Stuff it, Chanyeol. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Okay, now THAT hurt…a bit. “So how is your boyfriend?” Chanyeol asks in what he hopes to be an unaffected tone.

“I don’t know, we broke up a few years ago.” She skims the tip of her finger over the rim of her glass. “How’s your girlfriend Chanyeol?” she asks, her head drooping a bit from the effect of the alcohol.

God, she’s going to pass out any minute now. He clears his throat, “That was a long time ago. And it’s really hard to date right now.”

“Oh yeah, being a popular idol and all,” she slurred. “There, there, Yeollie” she executes a lopsided grin and leans over the table to pat Chanyeol on the head, much to his annoyance. It’s as if they were kids once again. “You have long lines of girls who love you; you can take your pick anytime.”

He cringes a bit. Even while drunk, she can still mock him. He changes the subject. “My parents send their regards. I think they miss you.” He clenches his fists under the table, unable to ask why she didn’t even bother to see him ever since she moved to Seoul.

“Thanks! Send them my regards as well, I’ll try to drop by sometime. I haven’t seen Unni in ages.” She was referring to Chanyeol’s sister, who is forever MIA because of her media job. She plants her chin on top of her bent arm that is resting on the table, her line of vision already parallel with her mug and the tabletop.

Chanyeol doesn’t know whether to be happy that she loves his family or be annoyed that she is not even looking forward to seeing him when he happens to be part of that family.

“____-ah! Snap out of it!” Chanyeol waves his hand over her drooping eyes. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home—”

“Don’t bother,” she waves off his hand, already tilting the side of her face more comfortably on her arm. “I’ll sleep here,” she mumbles. “I’ll just go home tomorrow.”

Knowing that this is enough of a safe place, Chanyeol nods, although he doubts she can even see him right now.
“So, what’s the important thing you want to talk about?”

Chanyeol is amused that she can still ask that question, now that her eyes are slowly closing. He sighs then smiles to himself. He approaches her sleeping frame, shifting her to lean her back to his arm while he hooks his other arm under her knees. He lifts her effortlessly and walks toward the couch.

He can’t help being satisfied that she instinctively burrowed her body closer to his chest, drawing from his warmth and inhaling deeply as if memorizing his scent.

“Tell me now, Chanyeol. I don’t want to see you anymore,” she muttered.

He chuckles. Apart from mocking him, she can be brutally honest while drunk. “Sorry, honey, you have to get used it.” He places her gently on the couch, putting both her hands across her body so that her arms won’t dangle off the edge.

Knowing that she’s already sleeping and would probably forget everything that happened tonight, Chanyeol crouches next to her and takes his time to survey her unguarded expression. His eyes roam over her soft hair, to her stubborn chin, to her lips that can laugh effortlessly one minute and can curl with derision a beat later. He clearly acknowledges what he’s doing. He’s looking for traces of the girl that used to be the only one he could honestly talk to.

I have to rethink my plan, he decided, frowning over the faint shadows beneath her eyes. He takes off his jacket and drapes it on her like a blanket. He was already straightening up to leave the couch when he hears an almost inaudible mumble.

“I hate you Park Chanyeol.”

He smiles sadly, bending over again close to her face. He brushes his fingertips on the hairs across her forehead, whispering softly,

“I know, ___-ah. I miss you too.”

***

A/N: Yeah…ugh, my Chanyeol feels….some notes:

1. Lyrics to A Little Pain are based on this translation. Love the song, even if the anime is so sad –poignant – but still oh so sad
2. The bar scene is the flipside version of the same bar scene here. If you spot any inconsistencies feel free to comment and wring my neck
3. Wabi Sabi – a Japanese concept which roughly means finding beauty in the imperfections of life, which for me is the type of beauty Hongdae represents. Thanks D for the name suggestion.
4. Plum Farts – no deep meaning on that one, just stuck in my head for some reason

And finally! Ferret-loving kid Chanyeol for all of you! *confetti*