"Jesus ing Christ," Taekwoon swears as he slams the passenger door after Jaehwan clamors into his car. Crankily, Taekwoon hops into the driver's seat and buckles up, casting a heated glare at a slightly drunken Jaehwan. "You're an embarrassment," Taekwoon mutters as he starts the car. Jaehwan has his face pressed against the cool window, his cheeks red and warm from drinking.

Clicking his tongue in mild disappointment as he pulls out of the lot for the Voodoo Tavern, Taekwoon decides it'd be a good idea to grab some coffee to sober Jaehwan up so he can listen to what Taekwoon has to say. A glance at the dashboard clock tells Taekwoon it's too late for any of the decent coffee shops to be open, so begrudgingly, he settles for 24-hour McDonald's coffee.

"Ah, my head," Jaehwan mumbles as Taekwoon pulls up to the drive-thru and rolls down his window.

Taekwoon tells the scratchy voice he'd like two black coffees, then pulls forward to pay. Before he's handed the coffees, he elbows Jaehwan upright, then hands him one of the small brown cups. "To sober you up," he says to Jaehwan as he rolls up his window and pulls away, finding a parking spot to pull into. "I gotta talk to you about that band of kids."

Jaehwan takes a long gulp of his coffee, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He visibly winces, and Taekwoon guesses his head hurts fairly badly. "What about 'em?" Jaehwan asks, regaining a somewhat more serious manner.

"What do you think of them?" Taekwoon asks plainly. He looks at the dirt-cheap coffee in his hands.

Jaehwan a breath in. "I think that bassist kid likes you.

Taekwoon bats the back of Jaehwan's head. "No, blockhead. I meant what do you think talent-wise." Taekwoon angrily puts his McCafe cup into the cup holder in the front console. He tries to ignore the heat in his cheeks.

Jaehwan huffs, taking another sip of coffee. "Well," he begins. He sways slightly. "The bassist, Wonshik, has some pretty solid lyrics and some real great song ideas. He had some—" Jaehwan hiccups— "minor bad habits with his playing, but otherwise super talented."

Taekwoon nods. He'd noticed some of Wonshik's bad playing habits too, but his skill definitely cancelled them out.

"Now, the guitarist," Jaehwan continues, "is great on the guitar, really seemed like he had some decent training, and his vocals were good but somewhat lacking."

"I thought he sang well," Taekwoon interjects, finishing off his coffee. "And he wrote that trumpet in their new song, so he's got a bit of a producer's ear."

Jaehwan sighs and turns the paper coffee cup in his hands. "Taekwoon, I'm still not sure about this."

"Why not?" Taekwoon mumbles as he turns his car back on. "We need a backing band, and we found one." Taekwoon pulls out of the parking spot as Jaehwan stares at Taekwoon hard enough burn holes through him. "What?" Taekwoon says, feeling Jaehwan's eyes on him.

"Are you really that willing to just… trample on this band? They're talented—they deserve more recognition than just as the backing band for us." Jaehwan leans against the passenger door, studying Taekwoon's stoic face as he drives, heading towards Jaehwan's flat.

"We need their help," Taekwoon says. "And they're good players. Management told us to find players, and we did." Taekwoon reminds himself that their management company had asked them to find a backing band so they can start playing tours and larger venues—he shoves the memory of the sensation of Wonshik's breath on his neck out of his consciousness. He reminds himself that all the auditions they'd held in the past few months were complete failures.

"You know we could've found a band easier if you hadn't been so picky and obstinate during auditions." Taekwoon shoots Jaehwan a dirty glare, and Jaehwan innocently raises his eyebrows. "And an auditioned band would know exactly what they're getting into," Jaehwan continues, sipping his coffee.

Taekwoon grips the steering wheel tighter, and purses his lips.

"Anyway," Jaehwan continues with a sigh. "We've still got lots of time 'til we can go on any tours, though, since my contract with the hospital isn't up for another two or three years.

Taekwoon groans quietly. "I always forget."

Jaehwan shrugs. "It's not easy to forget, but no worries." He noisily finishes his coffee. "But back to talking about those kids. I think that once they know what's going on, they'll be great." Jaehwan raises his eyebrows at Taekwoon, putting emphasis on the idea that Taekwoon should tell the Visions that they'll be a backing band. Taekwoon squirms slightly. "Oh, take this turn," Jaehwan mutters. "You can just take me straight to the hospital, my shift starts in just a few hours."

"Night shift again?" Taekwoon asks, shifting a glance at Jaehwan.

Jaehwan nods, rubbing a broad hand over his face. "I've been on night shift a lot lately."

It's Taekwoon's turn to nod. Being an ER doctor, and a young one at that, Jaehwan typically gets all the odd shifts—which are usually the graveyard shifts and back-to-back shifts. "Will you be free this Saturday? I invited that bassist to come visit the warehouse so we can talk music."

"Just the bassist?" Jaehwan asks incredulously.

Taekwoon clears his throat. "I'll invite the whole band," he amends.

"But no," Jaehwan continues. "I won't be free. I have back-to-back shifts."

"," Taekwoon curses under his breath. "Alright," he says louder.

"Tell me how it goes," Jaehwan says, cracking a small smirk.

They drive for a while in silence, Taekwoon driving on autopilot to the hospital Jaehwan works at. Taekwoon's mind is preoccupied with figuring out how it'll work for the Visions to keep their style without losing it completely to he and Jaehwan's style which, admittedly, is quite different. He thinks about Wonshik's self-composed song, and the talent of the other members, figuratively biting his nails and trying to sort it all out. Before long, he's pulling up in front of Jaehwan's hospital and Jaehwan is unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Thanks for the ride and the coffee, mate," Jaehwan says as he opens the door. "Sobered me up a bit," he chuckles.

"Yeah, no problem," Taekwoon dismisses.

"Hey, do me a favor," Jaehwan says after he's gotten out, leaning into the car's doorframe, one elbow propped on the top of the open door. "And have a cigarette with those kids. Your head's on a little too straight, and your heart's not in the music anymore. Having a smoke'll loosen you up a bit, and maybe you'll understand why those kids are so great."

"Like hell I'm doing that," Taekwoon retorts. "You know I don't smoke."

"Oh, I know," Jaehwan says with a coy smile. "Give it a go, though, if not to make those Visions kids believe that you're not as uptight as you seem."

Taekwoon seethes. "I am not uptight," he tuts.

"Take a look at yourself, Taekwoon!" Jaehwan gives a hearty belly laugh. "A 30 year old administrative services manager who drives a Mercedes, drinks only champagne, red wine, cognac and scotch, and who's never touched a cigarette? Come on, old man, let loose."

"I can't believe a doctor is telling me to smoke," Taekwoon mutters. "Just go to work, Jaehwan."

"Alright," Jaehwan laughs, taking his elbow off the door. "Don't let yourself forget why we started making music together," Jaehwan says before closing the passenger side door of Taekwoon's Mercedes.

Taekwoon sits in grumpy silence until the cab light goes off, watching Jaehwan thread his hands into the pockets of his khakis and mosey into the hospital lobby. "I am not uptight," Jaehwan repeats to himself. "I just hold myself to high standards." Grumbling to himself, Taekwoon shifts into drive, pulling away from the front of the hospital. After a minute or two, he switches on the radio, and remembers to loosen his grip on the steering wheel.

With a heaving sigh, Taekwoon starts on his way home, listening to the comforting murmur of his favorite station. He heads into the heart of the city where his flat is, navigating the forever-thick traffic, yellow streetlights pulsating as he passes by. Taekwoon rolls down his window and props his elbow on the sill, the traffic noise and sounds of the city growing louder. A breeze of fresh air brushes past Taekwoon's cheek and moves his hair as he weaves through traffic—he presses his mouth into the palm of his left hand, staring intently at the car ahead of him, deep in thought. Will Wonshik and his band really agree to be he and Jaehwan's backing band? Will they even be able to play their music? And then the biggest question: Will they even be able to go on tours? Both he and Jaehwan have other important jobs—Taekwoon as an administrative services manager, and Jaehwan as a resident ER general surgeon. Taekwoon furrows his brows. Their music has been successful, to an extent, but would it be a good decision to quit his day job? What if they go on tour and completely flop? Taekwoon heaves another sigh. He makes the turn onto the street his flat's building is on, continuing to think about how it would work to have the Visions as his backing band.

In his habitual routine, Taekwoon turns into the parking garage at his apartment building and parks in his usual spot. He twists in the driver's seat to see if he has any guitars in the backseat (he does), then rolls up the window, shuts off the car, and unbuckles his seatbelt.

Guitar now in hand, he locks his Mercedes with the key remote and heads to the elevator. One long elevator ride later and he's on the floor below the top floor and is punching in the passcode for his apartment's door. The interior of his flat is clean, meticulously tidy, and all shades of white, cream and warm beige—Taekwoon reminds himself, as usual, that the beige is actually called "Macchiato". Aside from the one large statement painting hanging on one wall of the living room, the only things hanging on the his walls are framed posters—all of he and Jaehwan's releases, from when they started in 2006 until present. Taekwoon sets his guitar case down in the entryway and kicks off his shoes, then moseys into the kitchen for a glass of water.

As he steps out of the kitchen, glass in hand, his eyes gloss over the ten or so posters in the living room—they're all shades of blue and green, being either arty and vintage-looking photographs, or minimalistic line drawings. He steps up to their most recent poster, and runs his finger along the handwritten-looking "Gentle Child" across the top of the poster. The name of he and Jaehwan's duo. He looks hard at that poster, then flicks his eyes to all the others. "Gentle Child—" he says to himself quietly, "—and the Visions." With his finger, he writes in "and the Visions" on the poster.

Taekwoon likes the way it feels on his tongue, and the way it sounds out loud. Beginning to think a little harder, Taekwoon makes his way to his white sofa and plops down. "Gentle Child and the Visions," he says again. Maybe Wonshik and his group didn't have to be just a backing band. Taekwoon cracks the tiniest of smiles, and rubs his chin, ideas a whirlwind in his mind.