In a Soundproof Box, No One Hears Your Heart Break (Drabble Challenge 167: studio time)
Title: In a Soundproof Box, No One Hears Your Heart Break
Author: samikitty
Word count: 150
Characters/Pairing: Junsu/unseen girl who dumps him
Concrit: sure
Rating: G
Summary: There is one mistress who will never betray Junsu...
Junsu finds the small space of the isolation booth comforting, secure. The foam-padded walls embrace him, absorbing everything he gives but never demanding. They don’t throw anything back at him out of spite either. The microphone faces him, waiting for him with infinite patience. It never spits out sharp, barbed comments designed to hurt him either.
He touches the arm of the microphone softly, and he pulls it closer. He presses his lips against the pop screen, gentle and tender, like he probably should have pressed his lips against the forehead of… Yoonsun? Yoonsoon? whatever her name was that walked out on him last night…
The headphones that he pulls over his head are old, familiar, a comfortable weight against his ears.
He hasn’t set up a backing track.
He listens instead to the sound of his breath, his heart, for one minute… then two…
And then he just sings.
---
end
squeaking in under deadlines is what i dooo~
Author: samikitty
Word count: 150
Characters/Pairing: Junsu/unseen girl who dumps him
Concrit: sure
Rating: G
Summary: There is one mistress who will never betray Junsu...
Junsu finds the small space of the isolation booth comforting, secure. The foam-padded walls embrace him, absorbing everything he gives but never demanding. They don’t throw anything back at him out of spite either. The microphone faces him, waiting for him with infinite patience. It never spits out sharp, barbed comments designed to hurt him either.
He touches the arm of the microphone softly, and he pulls it closer. He presses his lips against the pop screen, gentle and tender, like he probably should have pressed his lips against the forehead of… Yoonsun? Yoonsoon? whatever her name was that walked out on him last night…
The headphones that he pulls over his head are old, familiar, a comfortable weight against his ears.
He hasn’t set up a backing track.
He listens instead to the sound of his breath, his heart, for one minute… then two…
And then he just sings.
---
end
squeaking in under deadlines is what i dooo~