Thundering applause erupts from the audience right after Baekhyun hits that final key, the note ringing out into the silent auditorium. He stands, hands shaking, and takes a bow; sweat beads along his hairline as the adrenaline of playing another perfect piece courses through his veins. His heartbeat nearly explodes in his chest as he stands straight once more. The stage lights are blazing and hot, but Baekhyun ignores all of the uncomfortableness and smiles towards the crowd. Bouquets of flowers and single roses litter the stage at his feet.



That was nearly three years ago, when Baekhyun was at the top of the world, performing Chopin Nocturne in B-flat minor, Op. 9, No. 1 at the famed Madison Square Garden in front of 20,000 onlookers. It was nerve-wracking; a life changing experience that he will never forget. The memories from that night are burned into the back of his eyelids, every detail in great clarity as Baekhyun drifts off into slumber.

When Byun Baekhyun disappeared from the classical music world without a word, many people were left wondering what had happened. The skeptics ranged from the optimistic (“perhaps he’s taking a break from performing? everyone needs a breather once in a while.”) to those with more biting remarks (“I bet he injured himself while playing; such slender hands can’t keep up with the strain of piano playing.”) Others made spiteful remarks (“he wasn’t cut out for this world. he was meek and weak looking to begin with. he would never be able to compete with those prodigies across the globe.”) None knew the truth though, since the last time Baekhyun had made a public appearance was during that fateful night in New York City.



A loud buzzing sound prickles his ear drums, the sound a steady C flat. Baekhyun lets out a heavy sigh, rolling over in his white sheets as tears threaten to spill. He tries not to think about the piano in the living room, covered in a heavy black fabric to keep the dust away.



Weeks pass as Baekhyun cuts off all contact from the outside world, holing himself up in his Gangnam apartment while stuffing his face with junk food and watching an endless stream of movies on Netflix. His friends continually pester him via text messages and phone calls, especially Chanyeol. Especially Chanyeol.

Park Chanyeol, self titled as “Baekhyun’s bestest friend and number one fan in the entire world.” Baekhyun normally rolls his eyes when Chanyeol so much as says “bestest” because, god forbid, Chanyeol lose his sense of “being young.” It’s around the third week when Chanyeol starts leaving excruciatingly long voice messages, one in particular talking about how since he has made so much money from competitions and concerts, he should go on vacation. Or throw a party in his “big and fancy high rise apartment.” At the mention of that Baekhyun glances around his place, the monochrome furniture strangely mocking in his eyes.



Baekhyun shuts off his phone before that third week of solitude melds into the fourth.



Halfway through the fourth has Baekhyun staring listlessly into his cabinets. He’s unbelievably low on food; the only thing he’s been able to find is a packet of expired saltine crackers and some old cheese in the back of his refrigerator. Baekhyun sighs in defeat before heading back to his room to grab a coat, keys, and wallet and leaves for the nearby market.

There’s a slight chill in the early morning air for this time of year, a transition period between spring and summer. Dew still sticks to the grass blades as Baekhyun passes by the park. A soft melody drifts from across the street, in front of the music store. Baekhyun pauses, hand resting on the metal handlebar of the grocery store and glances across the road. The girl playing the guitar couldn’t have been more than twenty something, pale skin and blushing cheeks a stark contrast. Her long red hair catches his eye while his ears pick up on the notes she plays.

He shakes his head, walking inside the mart before being further sidetracked. 

By the time Baekhyun’s finished tossing in colorful packets of ramen, milk, snacks, and whatever else caught his eye, there’s a crowd gathered around the girl. This time a sign hanging from the awning says something about donating to the orphanage and he watches passersby toss won bills into the container she has set out. She’s singing now, but Baekhyun can’t make out the words. Along with the sweet melody of the guitar and her even softer voice, Baekhyun is entranced, worming his way into the crowd. 

Minutes pass and soon enough the crowd disperses, leaving behind Baekhyun and a few others who seem to be as captivated as he is. He doesn’t realize it’s drizzling until the music ceases and the girl is packing up her guitar. She smiles warmly at him before chuckling lightly. “Are you alright standing in the rain like that?”

Her voice is lower than he had expected. Baekhyun smiles crookedly in response. “I liked your performance, it was lovely to listen to.”

The smile she sends him this time is absolutely radiant. “I’m Jieun. Tell you what, what don’t you come inside and dry off. Maybe we could chat for a bit also.”

“Jieun? I’m Baekhyun and chatting for a bit would be nice.” Baekhyun really likes her name.



They spend time just like that, talking about music and everything. Jieun talks about how she quit college to pursue music and that she had to move out of her parents house because of it. She now works at this particular music store as a guitar teacher to children Baekhyun watches her cherry lips, his gaze momentarily focused on the way she forms her vowels. 

When he’s sufficiently dry, Jieun hands him a cup of tea to warm him up. Baekhyun tells her how he’s been playing piano since as long as he could remember, and entered his first competition at the tender age of fifteen and won. From then on his parents had invested everything in him and he continued to rise to prominence in the classical music world. It was until earlier this year that he had quit playing professionally, falling completing off the radar with no explanation what’s so ever.

“Why did you quit? You must’ve have an important reason.”

“I don’t really know why, but it felt like something I had to do.”

Jieun smiles genially at him and changes the subject. Baekhyun’s not sure why he feels disappointed in her lack of prodding.



As the weeks roll past, it’s become a habit to stop by the music shop when Baekhyun emerges from the comforts of his apartment for sustenance. The visits start at once a week, for a few minutes, until Baekhyun somehow finds himself going every other day, staying for a handful of hours at times as he sips his tea while Jieun teaches children the G major scale on the guitar. 

It’s cute how Jieun scrunches her nose up cutely as she tries to explain to a more difficult child that not every note is the same, and that there’s a certain way to place your fingers if you want a particular note. Baekhyun can’t help the chuckle that escapes when the little boy shrugs his shoulders before handing the guitar back to her and dashing out of the store, a brisk “see you next week, teach!” thrown over his shoulder.

She glares balefully in his direction, eyes narrowed to slits and Baekhyun laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his mug of tea, now long cold.



At first Baekhyun wasn’t sure what drew him to her; to be frank, she was just like any other musician he’s ever met. She was pretty, talented, and spoke in just the right way that had people captivated from the get-go. In a way, it was similar to looking at a mirror image of himself. Except she was the perfect reflection while he was the distorted one, one too many scratches and cracks to be really considered whole any longer. But when she smiles… Baekhyun can’t help but want to snatch it up and keep it in his pocket forever.

He likes her smile, and somehow it makes him smile too.



Lee Jieun is aloof and carefree; her voice is sweet and melodious, especially when she thinks no one’s within earshot as she sings her self composed songs in the back room. The soft notes from the guitar strings are what keep Baekhyun grounded to reality. It’s her voice that keeps Baekhyun coming back for more.

He’s not exactly sure how it’s come to this, always spending any and all his free time at the music store. Sometimes he sits at the piano bench and stares at the ivory keys in thought, brow furrowed as he tries to will himself to play. Most times he shuts the wooden cover over the keys, hiding them behind black wood. Other times he manages to play a scale or two, but never anything more. Baekhyun sees the curiosity in Jieun’s eyes, but she doesn’t push, instead choosing to gently take his arm and lead him to another part in the store.

Her eyes gleam promises, her hands whisper music, and her touch spreads warmth.



Sometimes Baekhyun wants to kiss her.

It isn’t something he becomes completely aware of until he realizes that he’s been completely fixated on her lips as she speaks about how adorable her new students are. They’re currently having lunch at one of the nearby cafes, a panini for Jieun and the French onion soup for Baekhyun. It takes him nearly a minute to focus on the words Jieun is speaking and Baekhyun finds himself blushing furiously at the wayward thought.

Jieun’s stopped talking, but instead of an oppressing awkwardness, she laughs. It’s a beautiful laugh and Baekhyun’s stomach churns uncertainly while his heart soars.

It must’ve been something in the soup.



Jongdae shows up unexpectedly at his front door, a cheeky grin on his face and a bottle of wine in one hand. Baekhyun rolls his eyes before letting him in, meandering into the kitchen for the wine glasses and the wine bottle opener. Jongdae’s grin grows impossibly wider when Baekhyun pops the cork out of the glass bottle and it’s like someone’s dripped dry ice down his back.

Something’s up, and if it’s anything concerning Jongdae, it isn’t anything good. At least for him anyways. Jongdae’s a jerk like that, taking pleasure from other people’s misfortune.

After they clink their half full wine glasses and take a swig, Jongdae makes himself comfortable on his couch. Even going so far as to prop up his feet on the coffee table, hand automatically reaching for the television remote.

Baekhyun let’s out a sigh before dropping himself in his arm chair, swirling the dark red liquid in the wine glass gently.

“So,” Jongdae begins, a smirk adorning his stupidly handsome face.

Baekhyun frowns severely, “What do you want.” It’s not a question.

Jongdae his head to one side, eyes imploring, before smiling a closed-lip smile. “So I saw you at a cafe the other day and--”

Before Jongdae can even finish his sentence Baekhyun groans loudly, knocking back the rest of the wine before leaning back and closing his eyes. “Shut the up, Kim. I don’t want to talk about.”

Jongdae chortles but doesn’t press for more information, but if that knowing gleam in his eye is anything to go by, Jongdae most likely knows more than he’s saying. Baekhyun wants to kick him in the balls.



It’s been about a month or so since Baekhyun’s started coming to the music store on a regular basis, eyes always lingering on Jieun a moment longer than necessary. He still finds himself sitting at the piano bench, fingers slightly shaking as they hover over the keys before he chickens out and shuts the covering once more. He feels utterly frustrated, but even he can’t pinpoint the reason why he’s stopped playing the piano all together. 

Jieun’s sympathetic look makes Baekhyun’s blood run cold. Unsure hands grip at his jeans as Jieun turns back to the little girl she’s teaching a new song to. 



Baekhyun stops coming to the music store for a few days, mind lost in a cobweb of thoughts as he nearly vegetates in bed for the better part of 2 days. In a sudden moment of clarity, Baekhyun drags himself out of bed and gets out of his place, willing his feet to take him to wherever they desire. 

He should’ve expected this, he tells himself, as he gazes through the window of the music store. The weather’s getting chillier as autumn approaches. Baekhyun notices the colorful leaf stickers adorning the glass panes and smiles. Jieun doesn’t seem to detect his gaze, but that doesn’t stop him from observing as she walks to and fro in the store, boots slightly catching on one another as she tidies up the woodwind section.

The sound of his text message tone scares the living daylights out of Baekhyun and he nearly hyperventilates into the pavement before digging through his pockets to find his phone.

The message is from Jongdae and all it says is “Don’t be a loser, Byun.”

Baekhyun nearly chucks the device into oncoming traffic and stop mid throw when he sees Jongdae’s face in the cafe across the street. Jongdae waves at him and in that moment Baekhyun swears that Kim ing Jongdae is the devil in human form. 

Three deep breaths and a minute of chanting “you’re not a , Baekhyun. you can do this”Baekhyun opens the door.

The little bells at the top jingle in a familiar manner and Jieun’s quick to shout “welcome!” before she turns around. Surprised flashes across her eyes for a moment before her bright smile nearly blinds him. Baekhyun can feel his heart speeding up and it’s like a swarm of bees has taken residence in his stomach. Jieun comes up to him and pats his cheek lovingly. Scratch that, it’s a tsunami raging in his internal organs. He’s not sure if he’s going to be alright after all.

“I,” Baekhyun manages to get out before clamming up.

Jieun blinks up at him, laughter in her eyes. Baekhyun needs to man up, and fast.

Another deep breath. Jieun flutters her eyelashes at him. Baekhyun thinks he’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

“I like you, Jieun.” Baekhyun practically yells into her face. The blush on his cheeks is so hot he hopes that it’ll incinerate him alive. That doesn’t happen, but Jieun’s smiling so beautifully and he’s rather glad he’s able to see that.

Baekhyun’s brain short circuits when Jieun wraps her arms around his torso, her warmth seeping through his light coat. Suddenly everything makes sense and certainty comes with it as Baekhyun wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her hair.

She smells like rain and sunshine; like all of the good and dazzling things in life.