Open mic night is different every time. Every Tuesday night is a new experience, even if the same people play the same songs, because every time, Wonshik notices something new. That guitarist has new callouses, this vocalist bought a new pair of shoes. One band finally figured out how to balance their sound, another violinist replaced their highest string. This Tuesday night, Wonshik's band finishes their two-song set with a hearty round of applause and a few drunken cheers, and everyone packs up and has a beer or two while the rest of the performers finish up. Wonshik and his two other bandmates take a booth near the stage, sipping the foam off their beers. There's only two performers left for the night—one stodgy older man with Spanish guitar, and a guitar and vocal duo that Wonshik's never heard play before.

"How'd you think tonight's set went?" Hongbin, the lead vocal and guitarist asks, reaching into his back jeans pocket for a rather smashed and empty box of cigarettes. He gives a quick and dimpled grin after pushing his wavy, sweeping bangs more to one side of his face and setting a cigarette on his lip.

Wonshik shrugs, taking a gulp of beer. "Probably one of the best nights we've had," he says.

"The applause was in' awesome," Sanghyuk, their tall and gangly drummer pipes up, snagging a cigarette from Hongbin when he sets the box down to find his book of matches. The whole table nods in agreement. "I can't wait til we can play a full set," Sanghyuk sighs as he also snags Hongbin's matches. Sanghyuk's gingery dyed hair is pushed back from his face with maybe too little gel, and a piece flops into his eyes when he leans forward to light his cigarette.

"Me neither," Hongbin says around his cigarette.

Wonshik leans across the table towards Sanghyuk and Hongbin. "What about," he says in a low voice, "a whole concert."

"Ey, that's not gonna happen for us for at least another decade," Sanghyuk scoffs, tapping the ashes off his cigarette into the table's ashtray and pushing his hair back into place.

Wonshik shrugs again as he leans back. "No harm in dreaming."

"Could we really do it with just us, though?" Hongbin asks, taking a long drink of his beer. "I mean, we'd sound way fuller with more members."

Everyone looks to one another with raised eyebrows. "That's true," Wonshik mulls, the weak applause following the Spanish guitar performance drowning him out just slightly. As the next and final act is announced, Wonshik flags a waiter to order a basket of fries for the table as their conversation dissipates into casual banter. Wonshik doesn't pay much attention to the small stage as the final duo sets up to play, adjusting microphones and plugging in pickups and testing the sound system. The two young men seem to be about Wonshik's age, maybe give two or three years, and both have acoustic guitars and mics to sing. They seem like night and day, Wonshik notices when they introduce their first song and he looks up to watch them play.

Wonshik's second beer comes and he pulls his attention away from the stage for a moment. Hongbin and Sanghyuk look up from the chords they're scribbling on a napkin to receive their second beers as well, and Hongbin stubs out his second or third cigarette. "Hey, so where the hell we gonna find another member?" Hongbin asks, sticking his tongue in his cheek.

"No idea," Sanghyuk says, tapping his pen on the tabletop.

Wonshik hears the question, but his eyes are locked on his stage over Sanghyuk and Hongbin's shoulders, watching the duo on stage perform. The darker haired and paler of the two catches Wonshik's ear with his raw, ethereal voice that seems to just float out of his body. Wonshik takes a sip of his beer and watches the other half of the duo play guitar. The one with lighter hair has large, slender hands that curl around the neck of the guitar so elegantly. Their sound is so polished and clean it makes Wonshik wonder if they've ever cut any albums. But the voice of the one like night draws Wonshik back.

"I wonder if we could find a new member here at open mic," Wonshik wonders out loud.

Hongbin snaps his fingers. "That's it!" he says. "That's a great idea."

Wonshik is pulled back to reality, blinking.

"But who?" Sanghyuk sips at his beer, still tapping the pen. "It's always the same performers and nobody really fits our style."

"What about these guys?" Wonshik points at the duo on stage. Both Sanghyuk and Hongbin look over their shoulders at the performers. They're singing some ballad with tight harmonies and a beautiful picked guitar line. They're angled just slightly towards each other, so they can see each other's playing and pick up on each other's breath cues. Hongbin and Sanghyuk turn back to Wonshik.

"Really?" Hongbin says, scrunching his nose.

Sanghyuk starts tapping the pen again. "Their sound is like… major label, and we're like… indie obscure," he says.

Wonshik rests his chin in his hand. "I think they're good."

"Yeah, but we need a member who fits our style," Hongbin says, picking at their remaining fries. "Anyway," he continues around a fry, "we really only need one more guitarist, not two."

Wonshik nods—it makes sense. But even still, there's something about the one with dark hair, and Wonshik wants him in the band. He sets about devising a plan while Sanghyuk and Hongbin bicker over the last few fries, ending with Hongbin slapping away Sanghyuk's hand, and the duo on stage begins to pack up their guitars and the stage management begins to break down the setup after they're finished. The pub grows notably louder after all the open mic night performers have finished, and Wonshik finished the last dregs of his second beer as he listens to the volume of conversation escalates. He watches the duo lean their guitar cases up against the low stage, next to his own bass and Hongbin's electric, and head to the bar for drinks. He keeps an eye on them as they talk for a few minutes before their drinks arrive, but Wonshik looks away when he begins to feel like he's staring.

"Wonshik," Hongbin says, lighting yet another cigarette. "What songs should we play next time? We've played the same two songs for three weeks now." Hongbin exhales the smoke out his nose. "Sanghyuk thinks we should play your new song."

"Huh?" Wonshik sits straighter, surprised. He shakes his head violently, brow furrowed. "Hell no, we shouldn't, it's not even close to ready."

Sanghyuk whines. "Oh, come on, I think it's totally ready. We've been working on it for months." Sanghyuk slides into a horrible slouch, kicking his long legs out under the table.

Wonshik shakes his head again. "No way, we can't play it until I'm absolutely happy with it."

"I think we should do it," Hongbin chimes in, and Sanghyuk nods in agreement.

"Who knows," Sanghyuk says, folding his hands behind his head, "What if we perform it next time and that's the time some record dude is in the audience and he loves your song and wants to cut us a deal for a record?" Wonshik mulls it over. "So we have to do it," Sanghyuk huffs, and Hongbin nods heartily.

Wonshik thinks for a moment—he's not 100% pleased with the song, and the lyrics need editing. But on the other hand, maybe performing it would help him realize what needs work… "Alright," Wonshik says finally. "We can play the song."

"Yes!" Sanghyuk exclaims, throwing his arms in the air. "Man, you know I really love that song, I can't wait to play it." Happily, Sanghyuk begins to drum his rhythm for the song on the table, and Hongbin grins like crazy behind his cigarette.

Chuckling, Wonshik fishes his box of American Spirits out of the pocket on the front of his flannel button-up, and steals Hongbin's matches to light one. "Oh!" Wonshik hears from across the pub at the bar, and he glances over to see the lighter haired half of the duo who played last clapping another guy on the back like long-time friends. The banter between the two is drowned out by the other noise of the pub, but Wonshik watches as the one with light hair touches his partner on the back and say a few things before the other nods and the lighter haired one goes off with his friend. Wonshik takes a drag on his cigarette. This could be his chance to talk to the darker haired one with the ethereal voice.

"I'll be back," Wonshik says to Hongbin and Sanghyuk before standing up and sidling over to the bar, cigarette on his lip. He sits on the barstool beside the young man, putting both elbows on the bar. "Hey," he mumbles, exhaling through his nose and tapping his cigarette ashes into the closest ashtray. Wonshik can feel a shade of embarrassment crawling onto his cheeks.

"Would you put that out," the dark haired man mutters, taking a sip of whatever amber liquor is in his little glass.

"My bad," Wonshik flushes pink and stubs out his barely smoked cigarette. "Anyway, I—" Wonshik clears his throat, nervous. "I liked your performance tonight. I've never heard you play here before." Wonshik folds his hands atop the bar—he can feel the eyes of the man beside him boring holes into the side of his head. Wonshik anxiously bounces his knee.

"Thanks," the other guy says quietly, taking another drink.

"My name is Wonshik," Wonshik says, putting out a hand for a handshake. He swears his fingers are trembling, but after a quick glance it seems they aren't.

The dark haired man flicks his eyes at Wonshik's hand, but doesn't move to shake it. "Taekwoon," he says.

Wonshik nods, retracting his hand with a degree of uncertainty, wiping his now sweaty palm on the leg of his jeans. "Nice to meet you." Wonshik gulps. Taekwoon's kinda cold, it seems. Wonshik bites his lip and stares at the wood grain on the bar for a moment, mustering a bit more courage. "Hey, were you here to hear my band's set?" Wonshik puts his elbows on the bar again and leans forward.

Taekwoon shakes his head. "We typically don't come to hear others play." His voice is almost inaudible over the din of the pub, so Wonshik has to turn to Taekwoon and lean just a bit closer.

"Ah," Wonshik says. "That's a shame. If you'd heard us, maybe you would've been able to tell that we're in need of another member and I—" Wonshik his head so that his ear touches his shoulder, and he gives his most charming grin. "I think you'd be a great fourth member."

Taekwoon mirrors Wonshik's body language, but he's not smiling. "I don't know if you noticed, but—" Taekwoon leans in close to Wonshik. "I play in a duo. If you want me, then you'll have to take the both of us." Taekwoon's hard (yet somehow angelically soft) poker face cracks a smirk, and he scoffs, the smell of scotch heavy on his breath. He sits back, finishing off the last of what Wonshik has now smelled as scotch.

Wonshik blinks, a little baffled. Taekwoon hadn't said yes, but he hadn't said no, either. "Well," Wonshik starts. "Would you at least come hear us play next week? We're gonna play my new song."

Taekwoon only continues to smirk, and sets down his empty glass before getting up from the bar and wandering away into the crowded pub.

Wonshik blinks again.

"Ey, what a strange man," the bartender says, having come to collect up Taekwoon's empty scotch glass.

Wonshik turns to the bartend, Hakyeon, and folds his arms atop the bar. "Know anything about him?"

Hakyeon shrugs, leaning against the lower prep area behind the bar and adjusting his black felt panama hat. "Seems familiar to me, but I've only seen he 'n his sidekick round here once before, way before you and your group started performing here for open mic." Hakyeon scrunches his nose. "Last time, nobody tried talking to that guy. You must be the first to approach 'im."

"Huh," Wonshik mumbles, and fishes his unfinished cigarette out of the ashtray. "Think he'll come back next week? I asked him to come hear my band play."

Hakyeon shrugs, his eyebrows raised. "Can't say." Hakyeon returns to wiping down the bar and collecting empty glasses after another shrug.

Wonshik sighs, lighting his cigarette again and shuffling back to his table with his bandmates. He glances over to the stage on his way, and notices Taekwoon's guitar is gone. He puffs on his cigarette.

"Hey," Hongbin says when Wonshik slides into the booth again. "You talked to that guy from the last performance?"

Wonshik nods, propping an elbow on the table. "Asked him to come see us play next week, but he didn't give a straight answer." He taps his ashes. "I also asked Hakyeon if he knows anything about that duo but he didn't know much at all." Wonshik picks up his beer glass, cigarette between the second knuckles of his first and middle fingers, and looks at the foamy dregs at the bottom before setting it down again. He looks at the clock behind the bar, and his brows shoot up. ", guys, I should go," Wonshik groans. "I've got work in the morning and it's almost midnight."

Sanghyuk looks up from his worn out flip phone, eyes looking for the clock. He makes a disgruntled noise when he finds it, and Hongbin laughs. "Alright, old man," he chuckles, poking fun at Wonshik for leaving before the pub closes and they're kicked out. "Go home and go to bed." Hongbin waves Wonshik away as Wonshik gathers up his jacket and slips his American Spirits back into his chest pocket. He drops a couple bills on the table to pay for his beers and the fries with a lopsided smile.

"Practice tomorrow at six?" Wonshik asks after stumbling out of the booth. Sanghyuk flips his phone shut and smiles, obviously a little drunk, and reaches out to pat Wonshik's shoulder with phone in hand.

"'Course, pops," Sanghyuk slurs.

Wonshik rolls his eyes. "I'll text you guys." He claps Sanghyuk on the shoulder, and sets his cigarette between his teeth. "Get home safe, you hear? Call a damn taxi," Wonshik says around his cigarette as he pulls on his jacket. Hongbin and Sanghyuk wave at him a bit drunkenly, and Wonshik shakes his head as he shuffles away to gather up his bass and head out the door after waving to Hakyeon, thanking him for the night and asking him to call a taxi if his mates don't seem like they can drive.

The night air is just a little chilly, and Wonshik has to wander around the pub's parking lot for a minute before finding his beat-up old truck. He puts his bass in the passenger side of the cab and clamors into the driver's side after grinding his nearly gone cigarette into the asphalt with the toe of his sneaker. Slamming his door and jamming the key into the ignition and giving it a violent twist, his truck rumbles to life, the radio murmuring quietly below the whoosh of the AC. Wonshik turns down the AC and turns up the radio, buckling his seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror.

The drive to his apartment is a little long, and it's nearing one in the morning by the time Wonshik finds a parking spot in the parking garage and makes his way up to his 9th floor studio apartment. He pushes the door open with a beery sigh, and kicks his shoes off, leaving them messily in the mudroom next to his bicycle. He sets his bass against the wall of his cramped and crowded "living room", next to his little fridge and gigantic amplifier and the tangle of cords and a loop pedal that he pushes closer to the wall with his foot. Yawning, he shucks off his jacket, then his flannel shirt, then his t-shirt from an indie rock festival a few years back, and piles everything beside his bedroom door. Wonshik runs a hand through his close-cropped dark red hair and stretches his arms over his head before scuffling to his miniscule bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face.

He stands in front of the mirror for a good solid couple minutes, gripping the edge of the sink. The light above the mirror flickers annoyingly like it has since Wonshik first got the apartment, and he hunches his shoulders. His mind's still on Taekwoon, and the way his voice was just so… it sounded just so ripped from Taekwoon's chest, if that even made any sense. Stooping to splash more water on his face, Wonshik tries to imagine what it'd be like to have Taekwoon in the band. Admittedly, it's a little difficult for Wonshik to imagine, but all Wonshik really wants is to listen to him sing and play again, and maybe have the chance to play together.

Realizing he left the sink running, Wonshik sighs and shuts off the faucet, deciding it's time for bed. He stumbles to his bedroom and sinks into his mattress, and soon after that, sinks into sleep.