The annoying generic ringtone sneaks in-between the thumping electronic beats that bounce off the walls of the recording studio, and Jiho groans in annoyance. He pauses the music, the last note echoing in his ears as he wheels his chair over to his bag to dig out his cellphone. The ringtone is nearly finished by the time he grabs it, and he debates whether it’s even worth answering at that point when he checks the screen.

Park Kyung.

He freezes, thumb hovering over the answer button and frown deepening. Jiho can already feel his body heating up just from even seeing his friend’s name, and he huffs. A quick glance at the clock tells him that he had only been working for a little over three hours—barely long enough to constitute a proper workday—and if he wants to have the song ready for the album release then that means no breaks. No distractions. No phone calls. Surely Kyung will understand.

Nodding slightly, almost desperate in telling himself he’s in the right, the leader swipes his thumb to the left, choosing the ‘Ignore’ option, and watches as Kyung’s name disappears from the screen before setting his phone face-down on the counter. He quickly scoots away from it, his fingers just settling on the computer mouse when his ringtone goes off again, and he knows that he doesn’t have to check to see who’s calling. Sighing and almost positive that the ringing sounds angrier, Jiho swipes ‘Ignore’ again.

It takes two more plays of his ringtone—the tinkling bells grating on his nerves at this point—before Jiho finally crumbles under the pressure and accepts the call. Taking in a deep breath, he braces himself.

 “What?” He tries to sound as annoyed as possible, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he stares at his computer screen. Clicking play, Jiho lets the music play at its loudest setting before turning it down until it’s just a whisper in the tiny room. “What is it? I’m working.”

There’s silence on the other end, and he’s known Kyung long enough to know exactly how the other boy looks right now: shocked, with his mouth hanging open and thin eyebrows raised high, probably brushing against his blonde hair if he didn’t feel like styling it today. The image settles like a rock in Jiho’s stomach and he fidgets in his seat, trying to alleviate the weight.

“Wow. Uh okay, rude. I was just gonna ask where you are since you haven’t even bothered to say hi to me yet today.”

Jiho’s ears and cheeks burn with guilt at remembering how he had bolted out the door the second he spotted Kyung this morning, the blonde barely being able to get out a proper “good morning” while rubbing his eyes before the leader was gone, slamming the door behind him. Throat constricting, Jiho coughs.

“So I have a babysitter now? Since when did I have to tell you every time I wanted to leave the damn apartment? Stop being so frickin’ clingy, you don’t have to know where I am all the time!” Jiho winces at his own words and grips the mouse harder to calm his shaking hand. “If you can’t tell by the music, I’m at the studio, Kyung.”

The sudden sharp inhale on the line goes straight through Jiho’s heart, and he wants to slam his head against the wall.

“Are you—why—what the hell is with the ty attitude, Jiho? Is it so wrong that I wanted to know what my best friend is? I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch or something since I haven’t seen you all in’ day but never ing mind!”

Jiho takes a deep breath. “Good. I don’t have time to deal with you anyway; I’ve got more important things.”

“WHY YOU—”

With a hard tap on the screen, the rest of Kyung’s sentence is abruptly cut off. Turning his phone on silent, Jiho flings it back into his bag and scoots back to face the computer. It takes him several minutes to even bring his trembling hands back to the keyboard, exiting out of the music program to open up a blank word document.

Brushing his fingers against the keys, Jiho tries to convince himself that he always writes the best lyrics in silence.