Wonshik wakes with a start after the second time he'd hit the snooze button on his alarm clock, violently rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to look at the time. 7:21 A.M. He rubs his eyes again and takes another look at the clock. 7:21 A.M.

 "," Wonshik hisses, jumping out of bed and diving into his closet to find a wearable clean pair of jeans and a red flannel button-up. He hops out of his bedroom, trying to pull on his jeans while walking, and throws on his flannel before realizing he'd forgotten a t-shirt. Wonshik curses again when he trips over a mic stand in the living room, and he begins to rifle through the unfolded pile of clean t-shirts on his couch. Most are from concerts and festivals, and he settles on a black one from a festival two months ago. He glances at the clock in his kitchenette. 7:28 A.M.

"!" Wonshik cusses yet again. His boss is definitely going to write him up if he's late again today. Rushing even more, Wonshik just drapes his t-shirt over his arm and scrambles for his wallet, keys, cigarettes, lighter, and cell phone before jamming his sockless feet into his low top canvas sneakers, racing out the door and sprinting towards the elevator, shoving his things into his pockets on the way.

While the elevator takes its sweet time on its way down to the basement parking garage, Wonshik curses himself for taking a job a half an hour drive away from his place. The elevator dings and the doors are barely open before Wonshik bolts out and realizes that he can't remember where he parked his truck last night. His head gives a painful throb, reminding him of the beers he had last night. He finds his truck parked messily at the end of a row in the very back of the garage, and Wonshik yanks the door open, starting the engine as soon as his door is closed, backing hastily out of the spot.

At the first red light, Wonshik finally gets his t-shirt on under his flannel (his signature look) and remembers to buckle his seatbelt. At the second red light, he reaches for the emergency toothbrush and toothpaste he keeps in the glove box specifically for days like this one when he's running late after remembering he didn't brush his teeth before leaving. At the third red light, Wonshik rolls down his hand-crank window and spits his toothpaste foam onto the concrete, and grimaces after swishing with some weeks-old water from a bottle in the cup holder. A look at the clock in the dash tells Wonshik it's 7:48 A.M., and Wonshik prays his truck's clock isn't slow. He presses on the gas just a little harder.

Wonshik pulls into the parking lot at Inguk's Garage Auto Repair by 7:57, and hurriedly parks in his usual spot, hopping out of his truck without even bothering to lock it. He jogs to the office and through the break room to clock in. While Wonshik punches his time card in the little machine, Wonshik's boss tsks from the folding card table they eat lunch at. "8:01, Wonshik," he says, looking at his watch.

Wonshik groans. "Let me by just this once, Inguk? Please?" Wonshik puts his hands together to beg.

Inguk folds his arms. "You're late all the time, kid."

"Oh come on," Wonshik says, moving to put his things into his tiny locker and slip into his uniform vest. "You know Tuesday night is always the night my band and I play. I'm only late on Wednesdays, I swear." He closes his locker and leans back against the locker bay.

Inguk looks hard at Wonshik from the card table for a long moment before his face softens. "Alright," he says, "You're off the hook this time. But next time," Inguk stands up and draws a threatening line across his neck with a finger.

"Yes, sir!" Wonshik puffs his chest and gives a little salute when Inguk smiles and chuckles. He follows Inguk into the garage, where a couple cars are jacked up on the 2-post car lifts, tools and tires scattered all around. Inguk picks up a clipboard from the small desk with peeling wood grain laminate and checks the list of things that are happening around the shop.

"Wonshik, you know what needs done, right?" Inguk says, flipping through the papers on the clipboard.

"Of course!" Wonshik sing-songs, pulling his work gloves out of the pockets of his vest and yanking them onto his hands. The Hyundai on lift 3 is awaiting new tires and an alignment, so Wonshik heads over, spying the four new tires in a stack by the lift. He remembers the old tires on the car are very unevenly worn, and rules it'd be best to replace the tires before doing any alignment.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur of motor oil and black rubber, and before Wonshik knows it, it's nearly 5:00 and Inguk is telling him to go clock out and tell the overnight crew to "hurry your asses, these cars ain't gonna fix themselves". Wonshik stuffs his vest into his locker after clocking out, chuckling as Eunkwang and Minhyuk, the overnight crew, groan and whine about their shift being so late. Wonshik pokes his head back into the garage after Eunkwang and Minhyuk, waving to Inguk before heading out to his truck.

Wonshik sighs as he pulls the door of his truck shut, realizing he left his guitars at his apartment in his haste. He thumps his head against his steering wheel and rests there for a moment before fumbling for his keys and revving the engine to life. Hurriedly, he buckles his seatbelt and backs out of the parking lot, speeding away and towards his apartment. Flicking his eyes between the road and his cell phone, Wonshik clumsily mashes out a text to Sanghyuk, "practice at 6 tonight?" somehow auto-correcting to "practice at 6 yogurt?". Wonshik presses send before he catches the typo and groans loudly. Sanghyuk texts back as Wonshik unknowingly coasts through a yellow light.

From: Sanghyuk-ah
Wednesday, 5:12P.M.

eyes on the road, pops

"Whatever, kiddo," Wonshik mumbles as he changes lanes, catching his exit in the nick of time. He's sure most people who drive this route after their various jobs know his car at this point, since he's always driving like he's about to run everyone over. A Mercedes lays on its horn as Wonshik cuts it off to make his exit, and Wonshik winces, waving in apology in his rearview mirror. Sanghyuk texts again.

From: Sanghyuk-ah
Wednesday, 5:15P.M.

bin's here early, we'll wait 4 you 2 get here b4 we practice anything. mom bought pizza so we'll be busy eating lol

Wonshik tosses his phone onto the passenger seat after reading the message, and makes a sudden right turn onto another street. It's always been a little bit of a damper that Sanghyuk still lives with his folks and Sanghyuk's house is the only place big enough to practice in without getting complaints and citations from cranky neighbors (like that one time they practiced at Hongbin's place), but Sanghyuk's parents are laid back enough that it's not too big of a deal. He parks in front of the elevator in the parking garage at his apartment building, and sprints as fast as he can to his apartment for his guitars and back. Just a little after, Wonshik's pulling into the driveway of Sanghyuk's house—the garage door is rolled open, and inside is a clutter of music stands and equipment. Wonshik hops out of his truck and pulls his guitars from the back, lumbering into the garage at 5:57P.M.

"Hey man," Hongbin greets him through a mouthful of pizza. His guitar nestled in his lap and he's perched atop a massive amplifier, balancing a paper plate of pizza on the palm of his hand. "You're just in time!"

Sanghyuk is scrambling to move the whole pizza box off the top of his floor tom, a pizza crust clamped between his teeth. "Okay dude—so," Sanghyuk begins, dropping the pizza box on the floor and rummaging for his drumsticks. "I'm really excited about this, bear with me. Hongbin worked up this really rad brass part for your new song, I think you should hear it." He points to Hongbin, and Hongbin's eyebrows shoot up and he hurries to eat his pizza faster.

"Sanghyuk, dude, Wonshik just got here, let's give him a chance to eat some pizza and unwind." Hongbin mumbles around a mouthful of pizza.

Sanghyuk annoyingly bounces his knees as Wonshik chuckles and unpacks his bass, hooking up all the cords and lines for the amplifier he always borrows. He snags a slice of pizza from the box by Sanghyuk's drum kit, and settles onto a stool to hear what Hongbin had apparently come up with. Hongbin's produced a laptop from somewhere, and with a myriad of adapters, plugs it into the amplifier he's sitting on. "So," Hongbin starts, tapping a few times on the trackpad. "It sounds pretty ty because obviously I don't play trumpet and I made it on this thing's mixer program thing, but I really like the concept of it." With a violent tap of the spacebar, Hongbin plays the clip. The sound is bright and light, and Wonshik tries to imagine it in with the other parts of the song.

He shakes his head after a few moments. "I can't imagine how it's gonna fit in with the rest of the song," he says, crossing his legs.

"Let's play it together then," Hongbin suggests, and Sanghyuk nods eagerly.

Wonshik shrugs. "Why not," he mumbles, and nods at Hongbin to start whenever he's ready.

When they get around to the part where Hongbin thinks the trumpet should come in, Wonshik listens hard, listening to how it nestles in with the rest of the parts. Somehow, it brightens the song in a way Wonshik can't describe. When they finish the song and Wonshik looks up from his bass guitar, Hongbin is beaming and Sanghyuk is practically vibrating. "What do you think?" Sanghyuk blurts.

Wonshik thinks hard for a long moment. "I think I like it," he ventures. "Let's use it."

"Yes!" Sanghyuk whoops, punching the air.

"Hell yeah," Hongbin says, nodding and obviously pleased with himself.

There's a knock on the door from the house into the garage, and Mrs. Han, Sanghyuk's mother, pokes her head into the garage. She puffs on a cigarette. "That sounded good, boys," she says, leaning against the doorframe. Mrs. Han is a middle-aged woman, maybe 45 or 50, with dyed-black hair coiffed just so and a fondness for music. "Who's the one that plays trumpet? Sanghyuk, I know it's not you."

"Ah, I generated the trumpet part on the computer, Mrs. Han," Hongbin sheepishly admits.

"I like it," she says, taking another puff on her cigarette. "Are you going to play it at the next open mic? Sanghyuk, I know you've been wanting to."

Sanghyuk flushes embarrassedly. "Mom, come on."

She shrugs. "In any case, definitely keep the trumpet part, you hear?" Mrs. Han raises her eyebrows. "Anyway, back to practicing, all of you." She waves her hand dismissively as she shuts the door. Sanghyuk groans and runs his hands through his hair.

"See? Mrs. Han likes it," Hongbin giggles, adjusting the strap of his guitar.

Wonshik can't help but admit that yeah, the trumpet part sounded damn good. No matter how resistant he always is to Hongbin's "help", he always winds up giving in because Hongbin was somehow gifted with all the genius musical ideas. Wonshik sighs, and rehearsal carries on. They discuss what went wrong yesterday, what to change next time, and play through Wonshik's new song about fifteen times before they deem themselves practiced enough and head home after a few cigarettes.

The rest of the week drags on—Wonshik makes a point to be ten minutes early to work, at least until Saturday, and when Tuesday rolls around again, he just can't swallow the nervous lump that's built up in his throat. As he's driving to the Voodoo Tavern for Tuesday open mic, his hands are hot and itchy and sweaty, and they turn chilly and clammy when he parks his truck and unloads his bass. When he shoulders the door to the pub open, Hakyeon, the bartend, smiles broadly and tells him his bandmates already signed on the set list sign-up sheet.

"Thanks man," Wonshik mumbles to Hakyeon, and moseys up to the stage where Hongbin and Sanghyuk are standing about with lit cigarettes, discussing what sounds to be something like a book they both read. He claps Sanghyuk on the shoulder with a forced grin, leaning a little heavily against Sanghyuk. "Yo," he says, as nonchalantly as possible.

"Nervous to play your new song?" Hongbin says with a smirk and one high-arching brow. He takes a drag on his cigarette.

Wonshik swallows dryly and nods.

"Nah man, don't worry," Sanghyuk says, putting his cig to his lips as well. "It's gonna sound great." Sanghyuk smiles. "Want a smoke?"

"Please," Wonshik sighs, and Sanghyuk passes him a cigarette, followed by a lighter. He lights up and puffs away. He heaves a sigh. "Do you guys think that Taekwoon guy will show?"

"Who?" Hongbin says, taking a swig of the glass of water that’s in his hand. He furrows his brows for a moment. "Oh right, that guy you talked to last time." Hongbin shrugs. "Who knows," he tosses off.

Wonshik opens his mouth to speak, but Sanghyuk slips an arm around his shoulder. "Well I dunno about you guys, but I could definitely use a beer right about now." He grins toothily after taking a drag on his cigarette, his ginger brown hair flopping into his face.

Hongbin scoffs and flicks his cigarette. "Sanghyuk, man, all you ever think about is drinking."

Sanghyuk shrugs. "What's the fun in playing while sober?" He shoves his hair back into place. "Yo, Hakyeon!" Sanghyuk calls across the pub to the bartend and right into Wonshik's ear, too. "Can we get three of those IPAs?"

Hakyeon loudly sets down a glass he's drying. "You watch how much you drink tonight, Sanghyuk," Hakyeon calls back. "Last time y' drank so damn much you could barely get home."

Sanghyuk lets his arm fall off Wonshik's shoulders, and he saunters over to the bar. "Aw, you're no fun," Sanghyuk whines, leaning against the bar. Hakyeon makes a face, but sets about pouring their beers anyway.

Wonshik sighs and sets his bass's case down by the stage, kneeling and popping open the latches. While Sanghyuk continues bantering with Hakyeon, Wonshik and Hongbin warm up, tuning and running through their parts without plugging into any amplifiers. Wonshik sits on the edge of the tiny stage and finishes his second cigarette while Hongbin sets up his laptop, fidgeting with all kinds of cords and adapters. After a bit, Sanghyuk brings over everyone's beers and they're shooed away from the stage so open mic night can begin. They take their usual booth, Hongbin and Sanghyuk on one side with their backs to the stage, and Wonshik on the other so he can watch all the performers.

The performances are a lot of the same old—all of them had performed before at some point, and most had performed last Tuesday, too. Soon enough, it's their turn to perform, and the three of them drag themselves to the stage and begin hooking up to amplifiers and such.  Wonshik heaves a sigh once they're all in position on the stage, the one tiny spotlight just ever so slightly blinding him. He looks over to Hongbin on his right, and Hongbin looks nervous too, sweating lightly and staring at his loop pedal by his left foot. Sanghyuk clears his throat into his microphone, and both Wonshik and Sanghyuk glance back. Sanghyuk raises his eyebrows.

Hongbin takes a deep breath and turns to his microphone. "Good evening, everyone," he begins, instantly flipping on his performer switch. "It's us again, The Visions—I see some familiar faces out there on the floor! Thanks for suffering through us once again." Hongbin chuckles, and there's a murmur of disagreement from the crowd. "Anyway, tonight we'll be playing something new for you guys, written by our very own bassist and songwriter, Wonshik!" Hongbin gestures to Wonshik and there's a few hollers from the crowd. Wonshik gives an awkward nod and wave, but his eyes are scanning the pub—there's no sign of Taekwoon. "So, here we go," Hongbin continues, adjusting his feet and guitar. "This one's called 'Sun'."

Wonshik can feel his heart speed up by at least 50 BPM as Hongbin starts the song. His voice is muddled by the inexpensive sound system, and it sounds like the lyrics have been rendered nearly incomprehensible. After the solo intro, Wonshik and Sanghyuk both come in, nodding along to the rhythm. Wonshik can't help bopping along, but his eyes are still searching the tavern.

But by the first chorus—Wonshik's eyes lock on Taekwoon. He tries hard not to falter, but Taekwoon's standing in the back of the tavern, a glass of red wine in one hand, and his gaze is hot and focused right on Wonshik. Right behind Taekwoon is the man he played guitar with the last time. The man's grinning and sipping the top off the darkest beer that's on the menu. Wonshik's studying the pair closely until Hongbin taps his loop pedal with his foot and the trumpet part begins, bright and brassy. Wonshik and Hongbin exchange quick wide smiles, and after the chorus ends and an interlude begins, Hongbin and Wonshik get into the music with their whole bodies; they can hear the audience clap along, and as the song draws to an end, Wonshik looks out again to see Taekwoon's friend speaking into Taekwoon's ear. Taekwoon nods to his friend as Hongbin thanks the audience, and Wonshik wishes he could jump right down from the stage and go talk to Taekwoon, but they still have one more song to play. Wonshik bites his lip as it looks like Taekwoon and his friend are about to leave, but instead they make their way to two empty barstools at the end of the bar. He breathes a sigh of relief.

"We've got one more song for you guys tonight," Hongbin says once the chatter dies down. "This one's a little more like The Visions' usual style, and it's one of our favorites. This is 'Juicebox'," Hongbin introduces their final song, grinning a little mischievously.

Wonshik swallows a little dryly, and tugs at his bass's strap. Maybe Juicebox won't be the best to play for Taekwoon. He has the sense that Taekwoon's taste in music is a bit more refined than the song that they're about to play.

Sanghyuk taps out their tempo and they begin the song, and immediately Wonshik forgets his worrying about Taekwoon's taste in music because damn he loves playing this song. The chorus comes around and the three of them are shredding-- Hongbin leaning into his mic, sweaty hair falling into his eyes, Sanghyuk in his complete own little world on the drums, and Wonshik curling around his bass like he's glued to it. Wonshik forgets throughout the whole song to look for Taekwoon's reaction out of the corner of his eye, but when they finish the song and he looks up, Taekwoon is still nodding his head along with the music. Wonshik breathes a sigh of relief as he, Hongbin and Sanghyuk step off the stage.

Once his bass is put away, Wonshik makes it a point to head straight for Taekwoon to ask what he thought. He's not quite sure he has his confidence gathered up, but he doesn't care. He's about halfway to Taekwoon when Sanghyuk calls to him from their favorite booth—he looks over to reply to Sanghyuk, and when he looks back, he's nose to nose with Taekwoon's friend. He's wearing loose khaki chinos and a forest green cable knit sweater over a wrinkled blue chambray button-up. Wonshik gives him a once-over before deciding he definitely looks like he doesn't belong in a tavern like this.

"Hi," the man says loudly. Wonshik can smell a ghost of beer on his breath.

Wonshik's hand flies up to rub the back of his neck. He clears his throat, a little surprised. "Hi."

"Taekwoon wanted me to talk to you," he grins, and Wonshik's heart does a triplet of sorts at the mention of Taekwoon.

"Oh," Wonshik mutters. "Does he…?"

"My name is Jaehwan," the brunette man holds out one of his large hands, the one that's not holding his glass of stout, for Wonshik to shake. "You played well tonight."

"Thanks, man," Wonshik manages to choke out, firmly shaking Jaehwan's hand.

Jaehwan claps Wonshik heartily on the shoulder. "Taekwoon kept insisting that we come back to this pub to hear some kids play, and at first I didn't want to, 'cause we never hit up the same open mic night two weeks in a row, but I'm sure glad we came."

Wonshik swallows. He's flattered by the compliment, but why won't Taekwoon talk to him himself? "What'd you guys think?"

"It was totally awesome!" Jaehwan exclaims. He says it with sincerity, but Wonshik's not sure he can buy into it. "Taekwoon said you want him to join your band," Jaehwan says immediately afterward, catching Wonshik off guard. "And I think we should give it a fair shot."

Wonshik's heart stops altogether.

"Did he really say that…?" Wonshik ventures.

"Oh, yeah! He said that to me when you guys finished up that new song of yours. We really liked it."

"Really?" Wonshik attempts to look over Jaehwan's shoulder at Taekwoon, but Jaehwan steps in front of Wonshik's gaze.

"Really!" Jaehwan grins even wider (Wonshik wonders how he does that) and slings an arm over Wonshik's shoulders, and not so gently leads Wonshik back towards the booth where Sanghyuk and Hongbin are sitting and arguing over who gets the last french fries. "You all should come to our warehouse soon and we can talk music," Jaehwan says. Wonshik is as tensed as he can get with Jaehwan's arm around him.

"Th-that'd be great," Wonshik stammers, and before he knows it, Jaehwan is sliding the both of them into the booth with Sanghyuk and Hongbin. Sanghyuk and Hongbin look up from their bickering with slack jaws, looking to Wonshik for an explanation as Jaehwan settles into the wooden bench. Wonshik shakes his head and shrugs, trying to charade that he has no idea what's going on.

"Hi!" Jaehwan says even louder than when he greeted Wonshik.

Hongbin and Sanghyuk exchange confused glances. "Hi?" Hongbin ventures.

"Taekwoon sent me over," Jaehwan says plainly and reaches for the last fry in the basket, popping it into his mouth with a smile. "We wanna know more about your band."

Wonshik clears his throat uncomfortably, and Sanghyuk stares in horror as Jaehwan happily chews. "How about I just go talk to Taekwoon myself, and you three can, I dunno, get acquainted." Wonshik mumbles in an attempt to escape Jaehwan. He wants to get up, and tries to, but Jaehwan is sitting at the end of the booth, trapping Wonshik between he and the wall. Wonshik cranes his neck and peers over the back of the seat at Taekwoon, who has his back to Wonshik, desperately trying to talk to someone on the phone over the din of the pub.

Jaehwan also looks back at Taekwoon, then gently elbows Wonshik in the arm. "He must be on the phone with his girl. They've hit a few bumps in the road, if you get what I mean." Jaehwan looks at Wonshik out of the corner of his eye with a chuckle, and Wonshik stares back incredulously. Something about the mention of Taekwoon's "girl" makes Wonshik's heart flutter angrily, but Wonshik's too irritated with Jaehwan's forwardness to pay it any mind. "Hey, so," Jaehwan addresses the whole table, and Sanghyuk and Hongbin break away from muttering to each other. "Talk to me about the Visions, I wanna know more about you guys." Jaehwan takes a long sip of his dark stout, looking pointedly at Sanghyuk and Hongbin in turn.

Wonshik clears his throat, taking command. "Well, we started the band a few years back. Maybe five? No, six. At first it was just me and Hongbin, but we added in Sanghyuk just a few weeks later when we realized we weren't going to get anywhere without a drummer."

Jaehwan nods, folding his arms atop the table. "So you're Sanghyuk?" Jaehwan asks, pointing at Sanghyuk. "The drummer." Sanghyuk flicks his eyes to Wonshik, and Wonshik shrugs. "Dude, you totally killed it."

"Th-thanks," Sanghyuk stammers into his IPA.

"Anyway," Wonshik continues, "We didn't start playing open mic nights and gigs until about two or three years ago, and this pub is the first venue we ever played." With a small sigh, Wonshik takes a sip of his beer.

Jaehwan nods in some kind of approval. "How long have you guys been writing your own songs?" He asks, and picks up the empty fry basket, checking for any stray fries.

"About as long as we've been playing gigs," Hongbin answers this time, tapping his fingers on his glass. "Wonshik does the brunt of the song and lyric writing—at least, his songs are always the ones we play. Mine kind of ."

"And mine in' even worse than Hongbin's ," Sanghyuk adds, taking a long gulp of his IPA and finishing his glass. Wonshik nods, because it's true. Every song Sanghyuk's written has really .

"What about you and Taekwoon?" Wonshik asks, turning the conversation.

Jaehwan shrugs. "We both kind of do our own thing. Taekwoon writes his own songs, and I write mine, and every now and then we write something together. Those are the songs we perform." He takes another sip of his stout. "We have fairly different styles, I guess. I'm more synthpop and Taekwoon's more indie acoustic." Jaehwan shrugs. "He's always asking me to play stuff for his recordings, though." He laughs lightly and slouches back ever so slightly.

Jaehwan looks like he's about to say more, but he's interrupted by Hongbin's phone ringing obnoxiously from his back pocket. Hongbin scrambles for his phone and pokes Sanghyuk in the side, making him scoot out of the booth so he can get up and step outside to answer his phone. "Gotta take this, it's Elise," Hongbin says before he leaves.

"Ooh," Sanghyuk says teasingly with a laugh as Hongbin hustles outside. "Hope she's not pissed at him for something, though. She's always got her thumb on him." Sanghyuk sighs and kicks out his legs underneath the table—he accidentally nails Jaehwan in the shin. Jaehwan grimaces. ", sorry dude," Sanghyuk quickly apologizes.

"It's all good," Jaehwan grins. "I get what you mean about controlling girlfriends, though. Taekwoon's is the same way. She's always calling about something or another. Always yakking his ear off." Jaehwan scratches the back of his head, his brows furrowed. "Is his girlfriend foreign? Elise is a pretty name."

Wonshik clears his throat out of habit. "Yeah, she's from America. She's smart and pretty, but she's not into the whole musician lifestyle."

"Ouch," Jaehwan frowns. "That's gotta be rough."

Wonshik is focused on turning his paper coaster in circles when he hears the tinkle of a glass being set down on the table and Jaehwan saying, "Oh!". Wonshik looks up, and his heart immediately seizes up.

Taekwoon is standing at the edge of the table, dark eyes locked on Wonshik, his hand still gripping his wine glass. "Jaehwan," Taekwoon addresses his friend, but he's still staring at Wonshik. "We should go soon."

Sanghyuk looks up from his ty flip phone at Taekwoon, and then looks to Wonshik. Wonshik looks back at Sanghyuk and they share confused glances.

"How'd your phone call go?" Jaehwan asks, a little loudly, while reaching out for Taekwoon's wrist.

"I'll tell you later," Taekwoon mutters, failing to pull his arm away from Jaehwan before he clamps a large hand around Taekwoon's wrist. Taekwoon heaves a disgusted sigh, and Wonshik can barely bite back his giggle at Taekwoon's exasperation.

"Hey, you should sit with us," Jaehwan says, and for the first time it occurs to Wonshik that Jaehwan is probably more than just a little drunk—a viable explanation for Jaehwan's frankness.

"No, we—" Taekwoon can't even finish his sentence before Jaehwan stands up and ushers Taekwoon into the booth table, making him to sit down and slide right up next to Wonshik, who presses even closer to the wall. Taekwoon glances uncomfortably at Wonshik, and Wonshik can tell Taekwoon doesn't want to sit this close just as much if not more than Wonshik doesn't want to.

Jaehwan crams himself onto the seat too, even though clearly there's only enough room for two people. In an attempt to allow Taekwoon a bit more room, Wonshik twists so he's facing more towards Taekwoon and less towards the wall, but it doesn't accomplish anything more than making Wonshik's face dangerously close to Taekwoon's neck and ear. "Hey Wonshik," Jaehwan says over Taekwoon. "Here's your chance to talk to Taekwoon!"

Wonshik can't help but flush a little pink.

Taekwoon coughs in a tiny voice. "You sounded good tonight," he says to Wonshik, his voice a small whisper.

"Thanks," Wonshik says, and he can feel his shoulders starting to tense up as his heart starts to beat faster. He doesn't want to, but he can't stop himself from breathing in a little longer than usual—Taekwoon smells like spices and red wine and a little bit of sweat, and damn, he smells good. Taekwoon turns his wine glass by the stem, staring at it with intense and thoughtful eyes.

"So," Jaehwan says, loudly, bringing both Wonshik and Taekwoon back to the present. Sanghyuk turns his head back to the table after ordering another beer from the server and rests his chin in his hand. "When do y'all want to come to the studio?"

Both Sanghyuk and Wonshik shrug. "I've got work in the morning," Wonshik sighs, and Sanghyuk nods.

"I have work too, 'cept in the evening," Sanghyuk mumbles.

Jaehwan tsks. "What kind of musicians do we have here?"

"The kind who aren't good enough to make money off it," Sanghyuk retorts.

Wonshik nods in agreement. "We don't make a single dime off our music."

Jaehwan makes a disappointed noise. "'S a shame," he mutters, then finishes off his beer. "Say, anyone got a smoke?"

"Jaehwan," Taekwoon says in a low, warning voice as Sanghyuk hands Jaehwan a box of cigarettes and a book of matches.

"Yeah?" Jaehwan says, intentionally blowing smoke into Taekwoon's face after he lights up.

"God, you're drunk," Taekwoon mumbles as he waves the smoke out of his face, having caught a strong whiff of the stout on Jaehwan's breath. Wonshik can feel the anger rolling off Taekwoon in waves.

Jaehwan takes a long drag on his cigarette. "And you're not drunk enough," he replies.

Taekwoon makes the most disgusted noise, then throws his weight into pushing Jaehwan off the edge of the bench seat. Jaehwan stumbles to his feet and Taekwoon jumps up as quickly as he can, and to Wonshik's surprise—reaches back and grabs Wonshik's wrist, pulling him along. "I don't trust Jaehwan said the things I wanted him to say to you," Taekwoon says quietly once Wonshik is standing.

Wonshik wants to reply but he's a little too stunned, and before he knows it, Taekwoon is leading him by the wrist out the front door of the pub. They push past Hongbin as he comes back inside, phone clenched with white knuckles, and Taekwoon only lets go of Wonshik's wrist once they're standing at the edge of the sidewalk outside the pub.

Taekwoon folds his arms across his chest, and stands looking at something over Wonshik's shoulder, avoiding eye contact. "Well?" Wonshik asks, clearing his throat once again and brushing off his front.

"I'm in," Taekwoon says.

Wonshik blinks. "Huh?"

"I'm in," Taekwoon repeats. "As in, let's play music together." Taekwoon chews uncomfortably on his lower lip. "You should come to our warehouse. I want to hear more of your compositions. Did Jaehwan tell you that?"

"Y… Yeah," Wonshik stutters. "He said you want my band to visit, and that you want to know more about our band."

Taekwoon nods, and unfolds his arms to shove his hands into his jeans pockets. "That song of yours, Sun—it was really well written. Did you write the trumpet part?"

Wonshik looks down at a crack in the sidewalk under the toes of his shoes. "No, actually, our guitarist Hongbin wrote that. He's always adding to my songs." He toes dejectedly at the crack.

"But the bass part is yours," Taekwoon says.

Wonshik nods. "Yeah."

"You have potential."

Wonshik looks up, and Taekwoon looks everywhere but Wonshik's face. Scoffing slightly, Wonshik turns his eyes back to the pavement. "What a in' joke," he rebuffs quietly. "Thank you, though," Wonshik says on his next breath. "I didn't think you'd come hear us tonight."

It's Taekwoon's turn to huff a disdainful laugh. "I didn't want to, but you seemed so pitiful last week that I couldn't help myself." Wonshik's ears flush bright red at being called "pitiful", and his hands curl into fists. "I guess it's good that you turned out to be pretty talented." Taekwoon's voice is almost inaudibly quiet, and Wonshik resists the urge to lean in closer to hear him. Someone pushes the door to the pub open and there's a brief swell in background noise—Wonshik's thankful Taekwoon didn't try to say anything right then. "Anyway," Taekwoon says after a longish pause, "If you're free this Saturday, come to the warehouse. I'll give you the address later." Taekwoon holds out his hands as if he were asking Wonshik to give him something, but Wonshik just stares at Taekwoon's hand, unsure. "Your cell phone."

Sluggishly, Wonshik rummages in his pockets for his phone, and warily hands it to Taekwoon. Taekwoon snatches it away and quickly starts tapping. "What are you—"

"There." Taekwoon presses Wonshik's phone back into his hand. "Now I have your number."

Wonshik furrows his eyebrows, confused. "What did you—" Taekwoon pulls his own phone out of his pocket and shows Wonshik the screen—one new message, from Wonshik's phone number. "Oh."

"Now if you'll excuse me," Taekwoon says, repocketing his phone. "I think I'll take Jaehwan home, now." Taekwoon gives a curt nod, dismissing Wonshik before pulling open the tavern's door. Wonshik follows after, peering over Taekwoon's shoulder as they approach their booth.

Jaehwan and Sanghyuk are laughing raucously, and Hongbin is chuckling into his cigarette, phone clutched tightly in one hand. "And so I told the guy, 'Oi, you can't even tell the difference between a lute and a mandolin! So right off!' and man, lemme tell you, his face was so in—" Jaehwan can't even finish his sentence through his laughter. Sanghyuk's very nearly a puddle of laughter, doubled over atop the table with a cigarette in hand. Neither Wonshik nor Taekwoon had heard the beginning of the story, so they both furrow their eyebrows, confused.

"Dude, Wonshik," Sanghyuk chortles, pushing himself up from the table. "Jaehwan was just tellin' us 'bout this time he—" Sanghyuk laughs with an obnoxious snort. "Oh man, I wish you'd heard this."

Wonshik then raises his eyebrows as Taekwoon grabs Jaehwan by the arm and hoists him to his feet, coughing lightly as Jaehwan blows more smoke into Taekwoon's face.

"I should've known to not bring you here," Taekwoon mutters.

"You guys gonna get home alright?" Wonshik asks as Taekwoon hefts Jaehwan's arm over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Taekwoon says. "I'm driving. We'll see you soon."

"Taekwoon, wait," Jaehwan drunkenly complains.

"I told you not to drink so much," Taekwoon grumbles, staggering under Jaehwan's weight as they shuffle towards the door.

Sanghyuk is still laughing uncontrollably as Wonshik sits down at the table again to finish his beer. "Jaehwan is in' funny, dude," Hongbin says, stubbing out his cigarette. "You missed out."

Wonshik shrugs. "I guess we'll all get along just fine, then," he says as he cracks a smile. 

songs mentioned: 

Juicebox - The
Sun - Two Door Cinema Club