(no subject)
A Beijing Soul 1.
Jonghyun/Onew.
PG-13.
He'd been spotted at a dodgy lounge at the back alley in uptown Beijing, some much badly lit stage with a lifted platform no higher than a couple of inches above the ground. Jinki says it's the affinity, Jonghyun had something else in mind. It was almost semi plausible to have such a producer dig him out of nowhere with his talent. Oh, I'm just the assistant for Baeyoung, can't rid of my workaholism even on a vacation, you see. and he smiles.
It's definitely more than that. He was in god allowed Beijing! No more to say, in a shady bar in the corner near the borders. The quiet area where only the rich dwelt and the hopeful tacky guys that hoped for a night out. A Guys' Night Out! Dug out from that forsaken disparaging place, sent right back to Seoul (where he originally came from, mind you) and back to that edgy, fast-paced environment. Just that he was no longer jumping fences and chasing dogs, but jumping barriers that everyone told him he couldn't break, and chasing dreams that he'd spent dreaming all his life.
It was all coming true, wasn't it? His goals were clear; path set, life high and ready to trudge on anyone in his way.
Maybe he had to get past that obstacle which was Jinki; the always independent, brainy Jinki whom you could count on to account for your problems - financially and emotionally wise.
Jinki walked past the double-tempered heavy glass door (he'd pulled instead of push in his overzealousness) with his eyes glinting with something close to mischief (...was that?) and for some reason - gratitude. Nonetheless it was a tremendous sight to behold with Jonghyun weak in his knees and dry in his throat after singing to not many people in particular.
The night was young and every corner of the streets in Beijing were barely empty. The anxious youth trying to get more information of that new phone - but hardly managing to keep on track, the old vendor shouting her voice hoarse and effectively getting customers with her century-old recipes! and that trendy young girl dressed in brand names. It was just too big for someone like Jinki to find him - eager to please and learn. Everyone here (except for the lounge) seemed to live in a hard-set default pace which regularly included the rushing of steps and the refusal of stopping what with all the clattering of shoes and zipping of bags.
This is Beijing, the heart of day; the young of the night.
--
And well, obviously Jinki shouldn't be here. Not that Jonghyun wouldn't like to be discovered by some big-name famous producer like Baeyoung but not in this way at the very least! He had it all planned out - Beijing can't handle him; he was to find some rich guy (or in desperate measures, a woman would do fine too) in the lounge whom was willing to pay for his travelling to Shanghai and he would sing in some karaoke bar till someone scouted him. It was perfect.
The lounge he'd worked at was dark and hardly fully functional despite the wealthy denizens of Beijing that regularly visited. Jonghyun sure had a handful of rich suitors but they were either too much of a miser or too young (they probably waltz through partners like a dancefloor for speed dating). He liked his cakes edible and lasting at the same time.
Guys would walk up to him in their suede leather shoes and crease-free suits, wading a couple of big bills, asking for some sort of personal time with him. Jonghyun did feel like a hooker on call; but he earned a hundred times much more than them. Moreover, he would just sing, occasionally allowing them to slide their hands along his jawline. And that was it - thousands earned (people there preferred using foreign currency than chinese yuans. weird huh? rich people.).
It was that very faithful night when he had trusted himself to call that Mr. Zhong when a loud bang sounded, door shaking and a man walked in; telling him, You were awesome! Here - this is my namecard, I'm Lee Jinki. I work for a Korean company back in Korea ― duh ― and the assistant for a producer. I'm here for a ― what's that word in Chinese ― right, business trip and I hope you'd be more than willing to consider my business proposal I'm about to tell you over the span of a couple of minutes...?
Jonghyun stared at the other, eyes searching for some skeptism (perhaps it was a reality joke) and he did find something like mischief, but there was more of an overwhelmingly sense of relief. Jinki's eyes shimmered under the dimmed lights, teeth perfectly lined in a row that showed when he smiled.
"Nice chinese you've got there." Jonghyun jokingly said.
There was a brief look of confusion that flashed past Jinki, eyes squinting and mouth in an 'o' shape. Oh, he's Korean. Eyes widening incredulously and he just couldn't stop laughing.
"That makes things easier, then! Look, if you're from Korea then you must know about Baeyoung?"
"Yeah, who doesn't? Three hit groups in two consecutive years - that guy's a legend."
"Yeah, right, right. I'm his assistant ― see my namecard? ― and I'm on a business trip for four days but I'm supposed to scout for someone at the very least and I'm at zero."
"And?"
"So you're my talent contender number one! Please, I need to find someone of worth to bring back, or stupid ass Minho would take my place."
Jonghyun hesitated for a little, looking at his surroundings. Only a couple of people that clearly weren't in his range of consideration. Why not?
"Let's talk over food."
Comments are always appreciated! It's the only thing that keeps me going!
P.S, I'm not giving up on modern wage of love ― I just need to find my muse for that story again.... I fucked things up with that story and I need to rebuild my bond with it.
Jonghyun/Onew.
PG-13.
He'd been spotted at a dodgy lounge at the back alley in uptown Beijing, some much badly lit stage with a lifted platform no higher than a couple of inches above the ground. Jinki says it's the affinity, Jonghyun had something else in mind. It was almost semi plausible to have such a producer dig him out of nowhere with his talent. Oh, I'm just the assistant for Baeyoung, can't rid of my workaholism even on a vacation, you see. and he smiles.
It's definitely more than that. He was in god allowed Beijing! No more to say, in a shady bar in the corner near the borders. The quiet area where only the rich dwelt and the hopeful tacky guys that hoped for a night out. A Guys' Night Out! Dug out from that forsaken disparaging place, sent right back to Seoul (where he originally came from, mind you) and back to that edgy, fast-paced environment. Just that he was no longer jumping fences and chasing dogs, but jumping barriers that everyone told him he couldn't break, and chasing dreams that he'd spent dreaming all his life.
It was all coming true, wasn't it? His goals were clear; path set, life high and ready to trudge on anyone in his way.
Maybe he had to get past that obstacle which was Jinki; the always independent, brainy Jinki whom you could count on to account for your problems - financially and emotionally wise.
Jinki walked past the double-tempered heavy glass door (he'd pulled instead of push in his overzealousness) with his eyes glinting with something close to mischief (...was that?) and for some reason - gratitude. Nonetheless it was a tremendous sight to behold with Jonghyun weak in his knees and dry in his throat after singing to not many people in particular.
The night was young and every corner of the streets in Beijing were barely empty. The anxious youth trying to get more information of that new phone - but hardly managing to keep on track, the old vendor shouting her voice hoarse and effectively getting customers with her century-old recipes! and that trendy young girl dressed in brand names. It was just too big for someone like Jinki to find him - eager to please and learn. Everyone here (except for the lounge) seemed to live in a hard-set default pace which regularly included the rushing of steps and the refusal of stopping what with all the clattering of shoes and zipping of bags.
This is Beijing, the heart of day; the young of the night.
--
And well, obviously Jinki shouldn't be here. Not that Jonghyun wouldn't like to be discovered by some big-name famous producer like Baeyoung but not in this way at the very least! He had it all planned out - Beijing can't handle him; he was to find some rich guy (or in desperate measures, a woman would do fine too) in the lounge whom was willing to pay for his travelling to Shanghai and he would sing in some karaoke bar till someone scouted him. It was perfect.
The lounge he'd worked at was dark and hardly fully functional despite the wealthy denizens of Beijing that regularly visited. Jonghyun sure had a handful of rich suitors but they were either too much of a miser or too young (they probably waltz through partners like a dancefloor for speed dating). He liked his cakes edible and lasting at the same time.
Guys would walk up to him in their suede leather shoes and crease-free suits, wading a couple of big bills, asking for some sort of personal time with him. Jonghyun did feel like a hooker on call; but he earned a hundred times much more than them. Moreover, he would just sing, occasionally allowing them to slide their hands along his jawline. And that was it - thousands earned (people there preferred using foreign currency than chinese yuans. weird huh? rich people.).
It was that very faithful night when he had trusted himself to call that Mr. Zhong when a loud bang sounded, door shaking and a man walked in; telling him, You were awesome! Here - this is my namecard, I'm Lee Jinki. I work for a Korean company back in Korea ― duh ― and the assistant for a producer. I'm here for a ― what's that word in Chinese ― right, business trip and I hope you'd be more than willing to consider my business proposal I'm about to tell you over the span of a couple of minutes...?
Jonghyun stared at the other, eyes searching for some skeptism (perhaps it was a reality joke) and he did find something like mischief, but there was more of an overwhelmingly sense of relief. Jinki's eyes shimmered under the dimmed lights, teeth perfectly lined in a row that showed when he smiled.
"Nice chinese you've got there." Jonghyun jokingly said.
There was a brief look of confusion that flashed past Jinki, eyes squinting and mouth in an 'o' shape. Oh, he's Korean. Eyes widening incredulously and he just couldn't stop laughing.
"That makes things easier, then! Look, if you're from Korea then you must know about Baeyoung?"
"Yeah, who doesn't? Three hit groups in two consecutive years - that guy's a legend."
"Yeah, right, right. I'm his assistant ― see my namecard? ― and I'm on a business trip for four days but I'm supposed to scout for someone at the very least and I'm at zero."
"And?"
"So you're my talent contender number one! Please, I need to find someone of worth to bring back, or stupid ass Minho would take my place."
Jonghyun hesitated for a little, looking at his surroundings. Only a couple of people that clearly weren't in his range of consideration. Why not?
"Let's talk over food."
Comments are always appreciated! It's the only thing that keeps me going!
P.S, I'm not giving up on modern wage of love ― I just need to find my muse for that story again.... I fucked things up with that story and I need to rebuild my bond with it.