Take my hand, let’s get famous for meanie_minnie
For: meanie_minnie
Title: Take my hand, let’s get famous
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/D.O
Rating: PG-13
Length: 6957w
Summary: Two weeks into his third year at university, aspiring musician Park Chanyeol comes across the eloquent, mysterious, musically-gifted Do Kyungsoo in the men’s bathroom, and it’s love at first listen.
Author's note: Thank you to v & d for all your support!
If there’s anything that Park Chanyeol should be doing right now, it definitely doesn’t include boarding a 45-minute plane back to Jeju-do and his third year of university. Yet, here he stands, third in line for boarding, a small duffel bag in his right hand and a sweat-covered passport in his left, nervous perspiration dripping down the back of his neck. Or perhaps it’s because of the heat. Either way, Chanyeol probably-- no, definitely-- shouldn’t be boarding this plane.
… Ah,
Too Late.
Before he can stop himself, the plane is taxiing on the runway, headed straight for Jeju Island. Chanyeol inhales deeply, the overpowering scent of artificially scented air conditioner filling his head as he forces himself to close his eyes. He finds himself gripping tightly to his armrests, feels the glare of the neighboring passenger to his right for taking up too much elbow room in what limited space they were already granted. Maybe he’s holding onto the ground he’s about to lift off from. Or maybe, he’s holding onto the idea of something, anything, that has the ability to get him away from Jeju, and back to reality.
It isn’t that Park Chanyeol particularly hates Jeju Island. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Ten years ago, his father had suggested an impromptu island getaway during Golden Week. It was a whole new experience for Chanyeol and his older sister, the first time they had ever ridden on a plane and tasted high altitudes. Somewhere along the way, Chanyeol fell in love with the sight of seemingly infinite rapeseed fields and the distant sound of waves crashing against craggy rocks and grainy sand. Surely, life on the island would be the same? Chanyeol would bike alongside the ocean current, and come home everyday with salt crusted between the strands of his hair, skin taut from the rough winds that run with the coast. And so, at the tender age of 10, Chanyeol made a vow with himself to one day apply to Jeju National University and get in. SKY meant nothing to him-- the only way up was, ironically, south. Of the country.
It had only hit Chanyeol about two weeks into his studies as an Economics major that maybe, just maybe, he had made the wrong choice when choosing Jeju over the bounty of Universities that the mainland had to offer him. Maybe it wasn’t just that; being away from all three of his guitars was devastatingly hard-- each one had come after long hours of part time work in tandem with studying to the best of his ability (which was, self-admittedly, not particularly outstanding). It wasn’t easy finding those with the same interests as himself, let alone from the pool of students whom he shared lecture halls on the postmodern economic structure of South Korea with. It’s just, ditching everything that he’d worked years to (almost) perfection on completing would not be very easy on his mother. As for himself? Chanyeol figured that starting from the bottom (yet again) wouldn’t be too hard to bear. But Chanyeol is a good, filial boy, and would rather start a fire than disappoint his mother. So he doesn’t go back to Seoul, and he doesn’t pursue music. After all, four years on a beautiful island couldn’t be that bad, right?
Wrong.
Chanyeol holds back the tears as he steps off the plane and back into a reality he doesn’t necessarily hate, but would very much like to replace with another. He lifelessly drags his feet towards the airport exit, stopping once to grab a sandwich to eat on the bus back to campus--
and he sees it.
A giant, lit-up advertisement, like the ones he’d usually see in subway stations, that reads “Superstar K, Season 6” in glossy silver-and-bronze lettering. Chanyeol has seen this show on TV before, while at restaurants or whenever he has free time back home. Auditions are, listed underneath the title, in approximately four months. Go figure, Chanyeol thinks to himself, given that free time in general always collates as winter approaches. The advertisement lists Jeju under one of it’s local audition spots. And that’s when it hits him.
Park Chanyeol has found his way out of this hellhole-but-not-really.
He’s going to start a band.
The thing about starting a band is that it’s much easier said than done. After rushing back to his dorm room, Chanyeol goes on a Superstar-K spree-- there’s a massive prize that is given to Superstar K winners of a mighty 500,000,000 Won, 200,000,000 of which is deducted to fund the artist’s future musical endeavors. Chanyeol figures that prize money is enough reason to try one’s hand at anything (even though you’d have to win to get any of it), and so he tries this excuse out on his first victim-- a timid, friendly exchange student named Yixing, who he had seen in the music rooms once, while nonchalantly passing by. Alright, so maybe it wasn’t nonchalance-- maybe Chanyeol had been using his free periods to scout Jeju National’s music hallways for possible recruits, earnestly peeking through each door and holding his ear by every open window in hopes of finding an unsuspecting hopeful. He finds Yixing one morning, a guitar in hand, quietly strumming as he looks out a window dreamily. It’s almost too poetic to be true, and Chanyeol is sure that it’s fate. So that afternoon, he approaches Yixing, who is sitting on a bench in the main campus courtyard, and asks him plain and simple:
“So, do you like music?”
“What?” Yixing replies in a quiet voice, laced with soft Chinese tones. His voice was like laundry on a clothesline. Fresh, and a little wrinkly, with his accent.
Chanyeol decides to cut to the chase. “You see, I’m thinking of starting a band for a certain special project-- which I’ll explain to you in detail later, of course, if you choose to join me…”
Yixing’s looks around nervously. “Um, am I being Punk’d?”
“Huh?!” Chanyeol exclaims, garnering looks from passers-by and the students sitting on benches not too far from where he stands beside Yixing. Do I look or sound like that much of a joke to people…
“No, no, I’m completely serious. Please. You look like someone who has good taste in music. And maybe plays an instrument. Please?”
Yixing simply looks at him.
“Uh, pretty please?”
The staring does not cease.
“Uh, okay, so maybe I saw you playing guitar in a practice room once…”
“Oh, are you that person who stalks around the music halls, peering into any room with sound coming from it?”
“What?!”
“I have friends in that department. I am not going to lie, they are kind of creeped out.”
“Maybe if you could help me by joining my band, I’d stop…” Chanyeol mutters, looking away.
There’s a pregnant pause before Chanyeol hears a sigh. He turns back to Yixing, who is shaking his head, lips upturned in a smile. Are those dimples he sees?
“I would like it very much to join your band.”
Chanyeol’s eyes widen and he breaks into a grin. “Wait, what?”
“Did I say that wrong?”
“A little, but that isn’t the point! You’ll join me?”
“Sure. I love music, so this isn’t a chore to me. Do not worry about it.”
“Wow, I have to teach you how to speak more casual Korean. Thank you, Yixing. By the way, I’m Chanyeol.”
“Usually people introduce themselves first, but I guess that is alright, since you apparently know my name anyways. It is nice to meet you, Chanyeol. I’m Zhang Yixing, and I play the guitar.”
Chanyeol plops down beside Yixing and slings an arm around his neck. “You, my friend, are in for one heck of an experience. I promise.”
That’s one down-- two to go.
“... then he told me about how in Changsha, people don’t play guitars, they play classical instruments, but he didn’t want to, so he rebelled and thankfully wasn’t met with backlash from his parents, and he was going to tell me about his big television break but had to leave for class. God, Jongin, I’m so glad that I decided to flat-out ask him, that I didn’t hold back. And he said yes! Can you believe it?”
“Um, not really. You made it sound more like begging than anything else.”
Chanyeol punches Jongin on the shoulder, ‘tsk’-ing before walking ahead. He turns on his heel and walks backwards, watching his friend with his arms folded behind his head.
“Well, at least I made progress. Be proud of me, Jongin, now I don’t need to ask you to join me on one of my music-hall stakeouts.”
Kim Jongin is, albeit two years under Chanyeol, one of his best friends. They’ve known each other since middle school, when Jongin helped Chanyeol find a football that he had accidentally kicked into the secluded corner of a public park after underestimating his leg strength. Ever since that day, they’d meet after school for one-on-one football matches, which eventually morphed into burger joints and PC-bang’s until graduation arrived for Chanyeol. Jongin is a newly-matriculated Sociology major at Jeju National, who rebuffs all claims that he only moved south in the name of Park Chanyeol. Chanyeol is absolutely okay with this-- after all, he does not need to hear the truth to know it.
“So what are you going to do now? You still have to find a bassist and a vocalist. That can’t be too hard, can it?”
Chanyeol sighs, and spins around so he’s walking normally again. “You have no idea.”
Jongin pats his back sympathetically. “I’d help you, if there was any way that I could. Really.”
“Thanks dude,” Chanyeol pouts, sniffing to add a little bit of drama to their conversation. “You’ve always found ways to pull me through the dark.”
“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Jongin was going to add a ‘best’ into that sentence, but they’re in public. Maybe next time.
They walk in silence for a bit, as the sun sets in the west, filtering pastel-orange light into Jeju National’s glass-lined hallways. It’s a very somber atmosphere, until an idea sparks in Chanyeol’s head, and he stops in his tracks.
“Hm?” Jongin turns around to find his friend, head down, standing completely still. “Dude, are you okay?”
Everything happens much too quickly when Chanyeol grabs Jongin by the shoulders and smiles at him, a large, eerie, mischievous smile.
“Kim Jongin, my dear, dear friend,” Chanyeol says slowly, eyes wide. “do I have a proposition for you.”
And so, Park Chanyeol finds himself a bassist. Well, not completely, but Jongin will learn. It won’t be too hard, not with both Chanyeol and Yixing, guitarists of the avant-garde, at his side.
It’s been three weeks. Three weeks with Yixing and Jongin, and Chanyeol still hasn’t gotten anywhere on his search for a vocalist. He’s been barred from stalking the Music Halls as-per agreement with Yixing’s friends (with Yixing as the mediator, of course). He’s tried wandering the popular parts of the island for street performers he may recognize from campus, but his efforts were in vain, as each person he had come across were of unfamiliar faces. He looks to the calendar displayed on his laptop in the middle of a lecture, and glides a hand through his hair before quietly standing up and retreating to the restroom. The clock is ticking, and as of now, Chanyeol is getting nowhere, and the stress is getting to him. He wants this, more than anything. Music is his life, and he’s going to find a way to show it, even if it’s the last thing he does; somewhere inside of him, though, that fire is being threatened by a cold, dark winter, which the light is far from reaching.
As soon as he reaches the restroom, he shuts himself in a cubicle and sits down, burying his face in his hands. He isn’t ready to break, but he sure as hell isn’t showing this pathetic face to Yixing and Jongin right now. They’ve been working so hard towards Chanyeol’s dream that has slowly become a collective goal of theirs. Yixing has been spending extra time with Jongin after classes to help him with his bass skills; Chanyeol takes the reins from him every even day of the week, and on weekends. They’ve also been working together to build a basic set list, from which they can cut or add songs in accordance to the image they are looking to build in preparation for the survival reality show.
Chanyeol continues to sit still, in terse silence, until the sudden sound of a door swinging open startles him out of his daze, and he hears someone walk into the bathroom in the rhythm of a perfect ¾ meter. Said stranger then begins to hum, as Chanyeol hears the metallic ‘zip’ of a pair of trousers and then--
Music.
The stranger begins to sing. Chanyeol can’t quite put his finger on what song exactly, but it’s something by Fly To The Sky, some ballad he heard a few times a decade ago, but that isn’t what matters. It’s the way the stranger’s voice forms a perfect melody that resounds clearly within Chanyeol’s ears, the slight vibrato and smooth, jazzy undertones that complement the way the stranger is choosing to sing the song. Somewhere in-between wallowing in his sorrow and gaping while listening to this heavensent voice, Chanyeol had pulled out his phone. As soon as he regains some self-control, he taps the record button on his video camera and holds it underneath the cubicle door.
“Every day, every night, I’m missing you…” the stranger croons.
Listening to the stranger is like slipping into a nice hot bath after a day outdoors in the middle of winter. It’s like Yixing and his laundry, except it isn’t-- in Chanyeol’s musical heart and soul, it’s magic, it’s everything he’s been looking for for the past month and a little.
It’s love.
And Chanyeol’s not letting him get away.
He bursts out of the cubicle dramatically, huffing as he grips at the sides of the door, and looks into the face of the perpetrator, who is staring at him in equal shock and wonder-- except it isn’t of the same nature.
“Your voice…. is… so--”
“What the fuck?!” the gorgeous-voiced stranger exclaims, quickly zipping his pants and flushing the urinal he was using before backing away in the direction opposite of Chanyeol-- which was, technically, a wall. He backed into a wall. That’s kind of cute.
“I-- what I meant to say was--”
“Who are you?!”
“-I just really love your voice and-“
“Dude, what the hell!”
The stranger ran out of the bathroom before Chanyeol had a chance to say anything else.
“Wait!! Come back!! At least give me your name!!”
No reply. Chanyeol was alone once again.
“… at least wash your hands…” he muttered into the silence.
There it went, the gold at the end of the rainbow, the person that Chanyeol had been searching for for so long-gone, in the span of a few seconds. All because he fucked up without meaning to. Then he remembered-the phone in his hand! He still has the recording! He’ll show it to Jongin, the stranger looked pretty young, with his obscenely large black eyes and thick lips topped by the most perfect cupids bow he’d ever seen, and maybe Jongin’ll recognize him by his voice. But the fire in his heart had been ignited once again. Chanyeol punches his fist into the air in excitement, leaving the men’s restroom with more determination than he entered with.
“Oh, I know this voice! He’s in my batch.”
“WHO!?” Chanyeol practically shouts, leaning as far as he can over he, Jongin, and Yixing’s shared lunch table, hands planted firmly on the tabletop. “Who is he?!”
Jongin and Yixing both recoil in surprise at his sudden exclamation. “U-um, his name is Do Kyungsoo, he’s--”
“Do…. Kyungsoo…” Chanyeol mutters the name multiple times, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He leans back into his chair, whispering to himself as Yixing and Jongin watch on.
“Is he okay…?” Yixing asks, looking at his bandmate and new friend with upturned eyebrows.
“Don’t worry, this happens all the time when he’s trying to come up with some sort of heinous plot.” Jongin deadpans.
Chanyeol’s face turns upwards and he interrupts their conversation. “I need to find out what he looks like. Do you have his Naver blog? Perhaps his KakaoTalk information? Give me something, Jongin, anything, I’m desperate.” He says while rhythmically pounding his fist into his hand.
Jongin’s lips move into a doubtful, worried grin. “Um, sure. I think I have his Kakao. He’s in my class--”
“No time to waste, Kim Jongin!! Auditions are in three months-- technically two in a half!! We need our vocalist! Move, move, move!”
“Jeez, alright! I’m not in the army yet, give me some time.”
Jongin pulls up Kyungsoo’s profile from KakaoTalk. Kyungsoo is a law student, studying to be a prosecutor. He’s incredibly smart, a gold-star student, and attends one of Jongin’s course classes as a way to fill in his schedule. Apparently, Do Kyungsoo hasn’t got much time on his hands. This might prove to be a bit challenging on Chanyeol’s part, but he’s willing to try anything, as long as he gets Kyungsoo on their side. Besides, who can resist the allure of fun with friends, original music, and a bonus cash prize?
Apparently, Do Kyungsoo can resist the allure of fun, music, and money. Chanyeol has tried twice already to approach the boy, but he always seems to find a way to escape. The first time was in the cafeteria; as Chanyeol trudged his way with a large, welcoming smile on his face, Kyungsoo glared at him and stood up, power-walking out of the cafeteria until he couldn’t be seen and the smile had faded from Chanyeol’s face. The second was in the courtyard, between classes, when Chanyeol caught a glimpse of him walking along the rock-lined paths to and from buildings and bum-rushed him.
“PleasejoinmybandIneedyourvoiceitissoamazingpleaseIthinkyou’rethebestplease--”
“If you do not step away from me,” Kyungsoo growled, “I will stone you with one of those--” Kyungsoo points at a particularly large rock that is sitting by the grey concrete, mockingly gleaming as if to warn Chanyeol of it’s presence, “without fear, or regret.”
Chanyeol promptly backs away, and Kyungsoo resumes his walk to class, leaving Chanyeol alone, and unscathed. He contemplates shouting “Resistance is futile!” after Kyungsoo, but the rocks are still in close proximity, and chooses against it. Round two, over. Kyungsoo: 2, Chanyeol: 0.
Chanyeol swears that he’s this close to giving up until one day he passes a cafe on the way home from school, and, while nonchalantly peering through the cafe’s display window to see what pastries they’re selling today, spots a familiar mop of jet-black hair and a pair of eyes he’d know any day. Slowly, he backtracks to the cafe entrance and creeps upon Kyungsoo, who is hunched over a book with headphones creating a barrier of obliviousness that is very, very beneficial to Chanyeol. When he sits down in front of Kyungsoo with a slight smirk on his face, the first thing Chanyeol sees is surprise, and when he braces himself for hostility, the only thing he receives is a defeated sigh, and Kyungsoo slides the headphones off his ears and around his neck.
“So,” Kyungsoo says wearily. “You’ve caught me.”
The first thing Chanyeol does is apologize. “I’m sorry for filming you in the bathroom…”
“You WHAT?!” Kyungsoo’s eyes are suddenly aflame, but after another sigh and a hand to the forehead, he decides not to react. After all, he is a regular at this cafe, and a sudden bad rep with the baristas he has come to know as close acquaintances is not something he needs right now. “Ugh, just… nevermind. Why are you…”
“Chasing you?”
“Well, yeah.”
Chanyeol laughs nervously. “See, here’s the thing…” He takes a deep breath. Here’s your chance, Chanyeol. Just go all-in. Nothing to lose. Just like the last time.
After introducing himself and explaining his “trapped in Jeju” situation, Chanyeol explains the entire concept of Superstar K-6 to Kyungsoo slowly, how you go through a few rounds of auditions before you are finally admitted onto the show, how the judges are famous musicians whose feedback will be incredibly beneficial to those with musical talent (especially those who aren’t used to singing in public, Chanyeol adds. When Kyungsoo asks him why he did that, Chanyeol simply coughed in the direction of the restrooms, and Kyungsoo shut up.) They get to go to Seoul, and may miss a few months of University because of that, but Chanyeol believes that if they push through with this as a group, he, Kyungsoo, and the others, will be well rewarded.
“It’s a bit of a gamble, I know,” Chanyeol says, and Kyungsoo can hear the sincerety in his voice. “But I’m not going to give up my dream without even trying. And I need you, with me, to be able to do this right. You’re the key, Kyungsoo. You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”
Kyungsoo brings a loosely-curled fist to his chin, grazing his top lip with his index finger, and whoa, hold on a second, are his cheeks turning pink?! Kyungsoo clears his throat, but Chanyeol can’t stop staring at how his lips are tinted a soft cherry, a deep pink on the inside that slowly discolors into a soft nude. He can’t stop thinking about how there’s jazz hip-hop playing in the background, and the scent of coffee is unwillingly slipping into his nose and into his brain, and has his heart ever beat this fast before? It’s all too poetic for reality. Then again, when cherub-like, dashingly charming Do Kyungsoo is an actual, real human being, with a real voice, Chanyeol figures that anything is possible.
“I-- I don’t know, Chanyeol. You’re right. It’s a huge gamble. As a law student, I have a lot to use. I can’t waste time carelessly, I’m sor--”
“No! Wait!” Chanyeol holds a hand out before him in a “stop” motion, eyes turning desperate, and Kyungsoo frowns sympathetically. “See, it gets better, okay?”
There’s a prize. It’s a big prize. And there are opportunities. He’s discussed this already with Jongin and Yixing, and they agreed to split the 300,000,000 Won that goes to the artists personal bank accounts by 4. In the end, 75,000,000 Won doesn’t sound like much, but that all depends on what they do with the further 200,000,000 used in a recording deal. Suddenly, Kyungsoo’s eyes light up. He goes quiet, eyes moving to his empty coffee cup and the half eaten cheesecake that Chanyeol had stopped him from finishing when he burst through the café doors and sat himself on the chair opposite the window. After a few minutes of deep thought, Kyungsoo makes a deal.
“I’ll do it. On one condition.”
And so Chanyeol agrees to give Kyungsoo an extra 25,000,000 won from his prize money in exchange for his patronage. This leaves Kyungsoo with 100,000,000 won if they win, and Chanyeol with a measly half of that. Then again, he guesses he doesn’t mind, since either way, he’ll be living the dream.
“You won’t regret this,” Chanyeol says after an exchange of contact information and a brief handshake with Kyungsoo, whose hands are like semi-melted butter, soft and a little warm despite the steady approach of fall upon Jeju.
Kyungsoo stands up, picking up his coffee tray and bringing it to the drop off counter near the cashier.
“I better not,” he warns jokingly, but the look he gives Chanyeol right afterwards gives him the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Kyungsoo isn’t joking after all. He gathers his things and pulls the headphones back onto his head before picking up his books and walking towards the exit.
“Oh, by the way,” Kyungsoo starts. Chanyeol snaps out of the short state of euphoria he had slipped into after Kyungsoo agreed to join the band. “Hm?”
“This… all of this… it doesn’t mean that I, uh, want to be your friend or anything. Do you understand?”
Chanyeol blinks twice. “Uh, sure.”
“Good.”
And he’s gone.
Practice beings, and Yixing and Kyungsoo get along famously. Jongin is indifferent, working hard to learn the basics of the bass guitar. He still meets with Chanyeol and Yixing every day of the week, but his practices have to be cut short every now and then due to the extra work he decided to put in for himself before they need to get serious. He and Kyungsoo talk once in awhile, but aside from their ages, there isn’t much that binds them together. Either way, the constructive criticism that Kyungsoo departs to Jongin once in awhile regarding timing and sound have not once failed to improve Jongin’s skill, and for that he is eternally grateful.
Chanyeol, on the other hand, is persistent, a puppy dog who is always at Kyungsoo’s feet. He never misses one of Yixing and Kyungsoo’s joint practices for the simple joy of listening to Kyungsoo’s voice. He decides that, since they are both in a band now, he can interrupt him in the middle of conversations with fellow students and sunbae’s in the halls, pulling him into a friendly headlock that Kyungsoo still isn’t used to, not even after a few weeks. It peeves him a little bit, but it’s endearing at the same time. Endearment isn’t a feeling that Kyungsoo tolerates very well, but after meeting Chanyeol, he feels the sudden eagerness to learn how.
As a group, they blossom like buds in the springtime-- after a suggestion from one of Yixing’s music major friends (a catty sophomore named Jongdae who takes Mandarin on the side), they decide to upload bad-quality videos onto YouTube. Bad, because Chanyeol has spent all his money on new instruments and rental studios and can’t afford an audiovisual recording contraption. Not only that, the rest of the boys can’t be bothered-- plus, what’s so bad about Jongin’s webcam anyways?
Kyungsoo is particularly enamored by the concept of YouTube musicians. He’s always been a fan of the people who had enough courage to express their love for artists as well as their own music by sharing it with the world, free of charge. Each day he would spend a little bit of his day refreshing the videos that he and his new bandmates had uploaded. He waits with the video open on a window, refreshing every few minutes, his heart spiking with elation if ever the number went up by one or two, or five. So far, their most viewed video has garnered 748 views. It’s a cover of a popular boy group that had debuted about a month ago, something that started with an E. Kyungsoo doesn’t know much about idols, all he knows are that they’re devilishly handsome and oftentimes, have their talent mishandled. He hopes that, if they win this program, he won’t end up that way.
As time progresses, though, views begin to dwindle, and the boys have less and less time to practice and record with midterms coming up. Kyungsoo is suddenly incredibly ticked off. His faith begins to dwindle in the group, and so he decides to confront Yixing about it.
“I don’t think we can do this any more.”
Yixing gapes at him. “What the heck are you talking about?”
“I… I just don’t think we can win.”
Yixing grabs his shoulders. “Kyungsoo, you haven’t even seen the competition. We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. What’s gotten you so down?” It hits Kyungsoo at that moment that Yixing’s fluency has improved immensely since they’ve started hanging together.
Kyungsoo sighs. “I just… the YouTube videos… aren’t doing well at all, are they.”
“Well, when our thumbnails look the way they do, I wouldn’t expect much of anything from any netizens.” Yixing huffs.
“No, you don’t get it. Yixing, I need this, I’m risking everything, you don’t even know, I just--” he exhales sharply through his nose. “I really need--”
Kyungsoo pauses. He closes his eyes, and asks himself, but, do I really? Need this? He shakes his head and turns away from Yixing. “I need to go to the library. Got a lot of catching up to do. I’ll… see you around, Yixing.”
Yixing watches Kyungsoo walk away, his shoulders slumped sadly, face scrunched with confusion. “He… needs it?”
He should probably tell Chanyeol about this.
Kyungsoo stops coming to practice. Chanyeol, naturally, starts panicking.
“I knew it, I knew this was going to happen, God, I am always such a screw up--”
“Calm yourself, man!” Jongin slaps Chanyeol’s face after catching him during one of his “frozen panic attack” moments. “You didn’t know this was going to happen, no one did.”
“He said he needed this??”
Yixing nodded. “I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Maybe the band was one of the escapes from his basic, law student routine? Either way, he’s never told me about his troubles, so I wouldn’t know…”
Chanyeol sighed. “I feel so helpless,”
“It’s okay,” Yixing stood up to pat him on the back. “we all kind of do.”
“I’ve got to talk to him,” Chanyeol says. Jongin can see the determination seething out of his eyes. “What’s the day today?”
“Tuesday, why?”
Chanyeol allows one of the corners of his lips to turn upwards. “Good, then. I know just where to find him.”
Chanyeol slams his palms onto the coffee table, jolting Kyungsoo from his half-dazed study session. Kyungsoo groans, pulling off his headphones and leaning back into his velveteen armchair.
“What do you want?”
“Why’d you stop coming?”
Kyungsoo turns away. “It was a waste of time.”
Chanyeol grabs him by the collar. “You’re lying,” he growls through his teeth. “you’re lying because you enjoyed yourself, and I know it.”
Kyungsoo scoffs, but it’s so half-hearted that even the naivest student on campus would be able to see through it. Chanyeol lets go, and sinks into the seat opposite Kyungsoo.
“I… I just don’t understand. We made a deal, I thought you were happy with it.”
Kyungsoo frowns worriedly. “I, well, I was, but…”
“Did you lose faith in us?”
“... maybe a little.”
Chanyeol forms one of his hands into a fist. This can’t be happening, not now. Not after everything they’d been through.
“What did we do? I thought we were doing great. Kyungsoo, we worked so well together…”
“I just. I don’t want to lose anything… I’ve lost enough.”
Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “Lose? Are you implying that you think we’ll lose?”
“No!” Kyungsoo exclaims almost immediately. “No, I know we can win. We’ve got you, Yixing, even Jongin is sounding great nowadays. And… well, we’ve got me. I’ll admit it.”
Chanyeol’s lips twitch into a smile. “Huh. So you’ve seen the light.”
“I know I’m good, Chanyeol. But… our videos…”
“Oh my god,” Chanyeol breathes. “So this is all about the videos? You think we’re going to lose because… our videos aren’t popular.”
Kyungsoo bites his bottom lip. “I don’t take things in stride.”
“Kyungsoo, I don’t get it.” Chanyeol leans forward, bringing his face closer to Kyungsoo’s. “You’ve lost too much. You need this win. What’s made you like this? Why do you need this so bad?”
There’s a long pause. Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol, silent, as if he’s waiting for something, for Chanyeol to get up and leave, for Chanyeol to look away, or show any signs of backing down. But Chanyeol isn’t going anywhere. Kyungsoo purses his lips, squinting his eyes, before giving in. He sighs, and looks at Chanyeol apologetically.
“I’m going to be honest with you. This entire thing, being so set on winning the competition, asking the extra prize money-- it’s because I need it. Real bad. It’s the same reason why I’m here, studying Law. I need money, Chanyeol… and I need it fast.”
Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol everything. His mother is ill; she’s been in the hospital ever since Kyungsoo graduated from Middle School. His father, in turn, works deathly hours throughout the day in order to come up with enough for his mother’s bills. His extended family don’t care enough to give them any help, and so Kyungsoo feels that it’s up to him to get his family out of this mess. He’s at Jeju National on a full scholarship, graduating at the top of his class in both High School and Middle School. He’s always loved singing, but becoming a star had never crossed his mind. He’s been scouted before, but had always turned offers down due to the repercussions of training under companies that he’d read about on online forums. He never wanted to give into show business, but if it means a little, just a little help for his family, he’s willing to do anything.
Kyungsoo brushes his bangs from the front of his face. He looks straight at the table, refusing to meet Chanyeol’s forlorn gaze. He laughs pathetically, the sarcastic heavy in his vanilla-smooth voice. “So, that’s my story. Doesn’t it sound like a drama plot? This world, it’s full of antagonists.”
Chanyeol hesitates, looking for the right words to say, but his lips are frozen in place.
“… so that’s why you asked me to increase your portion of the prize money?”
Kyungsoo nods in response. Chanyeol pauses, then slowly, lifts an arm to tilt Kyungsoo’s chin upwards until they’re eye-to-eye.
“Kyungsoo, if you’d have told me earlier, I would have given you everything. I’m doing this because it’s always been my dream… but you need this more than I need my dream.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes widen until Chanyeol swear’s that they’re this close to popping out of their sockets. “What?” and Chanyeol smiles.
“Look, you, and the others, you’ve helped me turn a dream into a goal. Now, i’ll make it my dream to help you get yours. So you can’t leave, okay?”
Kyungsoo’s lips part and his cheeks crimson rose and Chanyeol’s pretty sure he hears heavenly hymns playing in the background as a halo forms around Kyungsoo’s body because all at once, Kyungsoo becomes one of the most beautiful, angelic things that Chanyeol has ever seen.
“I… thank you.” Chanyeol smiles, pulling his arm back. Kyungsoo chuckles, “I guess it’s my turn to say that I won’t let you down.”
Perhaps Chanyeol has always loved Kyungsoo’s voice, but he’s thinking that he loves a little more than just that now. Maybe, for Kyungsoo, it’s the same, too.
There’s one and a half weeks until local auditions. Things have gotten more active between the four boys, with midterms out of the way. They’ve been meeting after school everyday, using the band rooms after Yixing got special access to them, courtesy of Jongdae. One day, during a meeting, Chanyeol decides to bring up the topic of band names.
“Guys, we are… nameless.”
“Ooh, that’s a nice name.” Jongin quips. Kyungsoo shoots him a glare. “Support of suggestion overruled.”
“Now now, Kyungsoo, this isn’t the supreme court. Save that for class.” Yixing tut-tuts. Chanyeol grins as the scene unfolds before him. Four months ago, no one could have thought that he would have gotten along with a Chinese exchange student and a high-strung, quiet Law major.
“Well, who wants to go first, then?”
Yixing’s hand shoots into the air. “I suggest… ‘The Mercuries’”
“Like, Freddy Mercury? I think you’ve got the genre wrong… weren’t we supposed to be pop-rock?”
“No, no, as in the planet!” Yixing draws a large circle with his arms above his head, making an ‘ooh’ sound as the planet comes to completion.
Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I disagree. ‘Mercuries’, for one, isn’t even a word. And how do you expect the public to pronounce that properly? I don’t think it’d be very easy for either of us, to be honest.”
“Fine, then. Sorry, Yixing.”
“It’s alright,” Yixing smiles. “I just figured that the name made sense, since we’re the underdogs. Being college students and all.”
“Alright. You, Kim Jongin?”
“Uh…” Jongin holds up his index finger as he thinks. “... how about ‘LOCK&KEY’? No spaces, all capitals.”
“Right. And why do you think this name is suitable for us?” Chanyeol pretends to fix an invisible pair of reading glasses set upon his nose. Kyungsoo and Yixing giggle at the tiny gesture.
“Dunno. It just sounds cool.”
“Okay Kyungsoo, your turn!”
Jongin stands up from his seat. “Wait, what?! No constructive criticism!?”
“He said next, Jongin.” Kyungsoo affirms. Slowly, Jongin backs down, pasting a victory smirk on Kyungsoo’s face.
“Well, I think--”
“OH! WAIT! I’ve got it!” Chanyeol exclaims, throwing his arms in the air in a show of victory.
“You interrupted me…”
“Sorry, sorry, but what do you guys think of… ‘Rose Metal’?”
The suggestion is met by silence, and Chanyeol takes this as a sign to shut up.
“Ahem. Right, where was I? Oh, yes. I suggest…”
Tension builds within the room as people anticipate genius scholar extraordinaire Do Kyungsoo and his fascinating name reveal.
“... ‘Eclipse’.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes light up at the suggestion. It’s easy to pronounce, and stands for how they plan on overshadowing the rest of their opponents in the limelight. It’s suitable, for sure, and so it sticks.
“Right, so we’re ‘Eclipse’ now!” Chanyeol grins, writing the name in big, bold alphabet letters on an imaginary piece of paper.
“I’m happy with it!” Jongin smiles.
“Seconded,” Yixing agrees.
“Thanks, guys.”
Yixing grabs Kyungsoo and pulls him in for a hug, after which they are bombarded by Jongin and Chanyeol cannons that refuse to relent no matter what they plea. Slowly but surely, everyone has grown much more comfortable with each other. They’re like a second family, and the fears that have built up within Chanyeol of the aftermath if they fail have slowly begin to dissipate. Chanyeol peers at Kyungsoo despite the mess of their group hug, and manages to catch his eye. He winks, and Kyungsoo quickly glances away, the skin above his cheekbones coloring a soft pink.
Chanyeol thinks about it, and he decides that even if they end up losing, and have to be sent home, perhaps staying in Jeju won’t be as bad as he thinks. Not at all, as long as they’re together.
It’s the day before local auditions. This is it, Kyungsoo decides. He’s risking everything for this one chance, and he isn’t going to blow it. Not for himself, nor for the new friends he’s made along the way.
He ventures out to meet Chanyeol at the cafe where he had been confronted twice. Before he knew it, the location had morphed from his own secret space to a place for two-- he and Chanyeol would meet there often, for both schoolwork and band-related matters. And yet, Kyungsoo was still able to find comfort whenever he was there. In fact, he found that whenever he came without Chanyeol at his side, his stays were shorter, quieter, and much, much lonelier, so he would always find opportunities to ask the other to accompany him. “For… study reasons, of course.”
Chanyeol would simply smile, and they’d walk to the cafe that day after classes finished.
A few minutes after he sits down, Chanyeol comes bursting through the door.
“One day left!!” he exclaims joyously, whoop-ing when he takes a seat. He waves at the barista, a friendly young man named Minseok who had recently come back from Japan after a professional barista course.
“Aren’t you excited?” Chanyeol gasps, the glint in his eyes shining brighter than ever. Kyungsoo smiles, a little sadly.
“Honestly, I’m kind of sad that this all might be ending soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Kyungsoo decides he has nothing to lose anymore, so he decides to come clean. “these past few months… have been some of the best months I’ve ever lived. Really. Honest to god.”
Chanyeol’s eyes widen, and his cheeks spread to make room for the monstrous smile he smiles whenever overly elated. Over time, Kyungsoo has come to learn Chanyeol just as well as he’s known himself.
“I mean, the burden of my parents’ sacrifices and struggles are still a heavy weight on my shoulders, but…” Kyungsoo looks up at Chanyeol shyly, and he doesn’t think he’s ever noticed the way his hair glitters under the sunlight, strands of deep auburn-brown that almost resemble gold. A rare mineral, just as precious as Chanyeol has become to him.
“Opening my heart to you has been one of the most liberating things in my life. I’m so grateful, Chanyeol. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’ll always be here.”
Chanyeol grins softly, resting his chin on his elbow as he rests on the coffee table, looking up at Kyungsoo.
“I swear, Do Kyungsoo. If this was a drama, this would be the part when the female protagonist kisses the hero out of sheer gratitude. Don’t… maybe you should do the same?”
Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo, an inviting smile playing upon his lips, and Kyungsoo smirks.
“I’m not that easy, Park Chanyeol.” he says, grabbing the menu placed onto their table when he arrived, and lifting it to conceal their faces from the main counter. “But I’ll let it slide just this once.
And so he does.
Title: Take my hand, let’s get famous
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/D.O
Rating: PG-13
Length: 6957w
Summary: Two weeks into his third year at university, aspiring musician Park Chanyeol comes across the eloquent, mysterious, musically-gifted Do Kyungsoo in the men’s bathroom, and it’s love at first listen.
Author's note: Thank you to v & d for all your support!
If there’s anything that Park Chanyeol should be doing right now, it definitely doesn’t include boarding a 45-minute plane back to Jeju-do and his third year of university. Yet, here he stands, third in line for boarding, a small duffel bag in his right hand and a sweat-covered passport in his left, nervous perspiration dripping down the back of his neck. Or perhaps it’s because of the heat. Either way, Chanyeol probably-- no, definitely-- shouldn’t be boarding this plane.
… Ah,
Too Late.
Before he can stop himself, the plane is taxiing on the runway, headed straight for Jeju Island. Chanyeol inhales deeply, the overpowering scent of artificially scented air conditioner filling his head as he forces himself to close his eyes. He finds himself gripping tightly to his armrests, feels the glare of the neighboring passenger to his right for taking up too much elbow room in what limited space they were already granted. Maybe he’s holding onto the ground he’s about to lift off from. Or maybe, he’s holding onto the idea of something, anything, that has the ability to get him away from Jeju, and back to reality.
It isn’t that Park Chanyeol particularly hates Jeju Island. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Ten years ago, his father had suggested an impromptu island getaway during Golden Week. It was a whole new experience for Chanyeol and his older sister, the first time they had ever ridden on a plane and tasted high altitudes. Somewhere along the way, Chanyeol fell in love with the sight of seemingly infinite rapeseed fields and the distant sound of waves crashing against craggy rocks and grainy sand. Surely, life on the island would be the same? Chanyeol would bike alongside the ocean current, and come home everyday with salt crusted between the strands of his hair, skin taut from the rough winds that run with the coast. And so, at the tender age of 10, Chanyeol made a vow with himself to one day apply to Jeju National University and get in. SKY meant nothing to him-- the only way up was, ironically, south. Of the country.
It had only hit Chanyeol about two weeks into his studies as an Economics major that maybe, just maybe, he had made the wrong choice when choosing Jeju over the bounty of Universities that the mainland had to offer him. Maybe it wasn’t just that; being away from all three of his guitars was devastatingly hard-- each one had come after long hours of part time work in tandem with studying to the best of his ability (which was, self-admittedly, not particularly outstanding). It wasn’t easy finding those with the same interests as himself, let alone from the pool of students whom he shared lecture halls on the postmodern economic structure of South Korea with. It’s just, ditching everything that he’d worked years to (almost) perfection on completing would not be very easy on his mother. As for himself? Chanyeol figured that starting from the bottom (yet again) wouldn’t be too hard to bear. But Chanyeol is a good, filial boy, and would rather start a fire than disappoint his mother. So he doesn’t go back to Seoul, and he doesn’t pursue music. After all, four years on a beautiful island couldn’t be that bad, right?
Wrong.
Chanyeol holds back the tears as he steps off the plane and back into a reality he doesn’t necessarily hate, but would very much like to replace with another. He lifelessly drags his feet towards the airport exit, stopping once to grab a sandwich to eat on the bus back to campus--
and he sees it.
A giant, lit-up advertisement, like the ones he’d usually see in subway stations, that reads “Superstar K, Season 6” in glossy silver-and-bronze lettering. Chanyeol has seen this show on TV before, while at restaurants or whenever he has free time back home. Auditions are, listed underneath the title, in approximately four months. Go figure, Chanyeol thinks to himself, given that free time in general always collates as winter approaches. The advertisement lists Jeju under one of it’s local audition spots. And that’s when it hits him.
Park Chanyeol has found his way out of this hellhole-but-not-really.
He’s going to start a band.
The thing about starting a band is that it’s much easier said than done. After rushing back to his dorm room, Chanyeol goes on a Superstar-K spree-- there’s a massive prize that is given to Superstar K winners of a mighty 500,000,000 Won, 200,000,000 of which is deducted to fund the artist’s future musical endeavors. Chanyeol figures that prize money is enough reason to try one’s hand at anything (even though you’d have to win to get any of it), and so he tries this excuse out on his first victim-- a timid, friendly exchange student named Yixing, who he had seen in the music rooms once, while nonchalantly passing by. Alright, so maybe it wasn’t nonchalance-- maybe Chanyeol had been using his free periods to scout Jeju National’s music hallways for possible recruits, earnestly peeking through each door and holding his ear by every open window in hopes of finding an unsuspecting hopeful. He finds Yixing one morning, a guitar in hand, quietly strumming as he looks out a window dreamily. It’s almost too poetic to be true, and Chanyeol is sure that it’s fate. So that afternoon, he approaches Yixing, who is sitting on a bench in the main campus courtyard, and asks him plain and simple:
“So, do you like music?”
“What?” Yixing replies in a quiet voice, laced with soft Chinese tones. His voice was like laundry on a clothesline. Fresh, and a little wrinkly, with his accent.
Chanyeol decides to cut to the chase. “You see, I’m thinking of starting a band for a certain special project-- which I’ll explain to you in detail later, of course, if you choose to join me…”
Yixing’s looks around nervously. “Um, am I being Punk’d?”
“Huh?!” Chanyeol exclaims, garnering looks from passers-by and the students sitting on benches not too far from where he stands beside Yixing. Do I look or sound like that much of a joke to people…
“No, no, I’m completely serious. Please. You look like someone who has good taste in music. And maybe plays an instrument. Please?”
Yixing simply looks at him.
“Uh, pretty please?”
The staring does not cease.
“Uh, okay, so maybe I saw you playing guitar in a practice room once…”
“Oh, are you that person who stalks around the music halls, peering into any room with sound coming from it?”
“What?!”
“I have friends in that department. I am not going to lie, they are kind of creeped out.”
“Maybe if you could help me by joining my band, I’d stop…” Chanyeol mutters, looking away.
There’s a pregnant pause before Chanyeol hears a sigh. He turns back to Yixing, who is shaking his head, lips upturned in a smile. Are those dimples he sees?
“I would like it very much to join your band.”
Chanyeol’s eyes widen and he breaks into a grin. “Wait, what?”
“Did I say that wrong?”
“A little, but that isn’t the point! You’ll join me?”
“Sure. I love music, so this isn’t a chore to me. Do not worry about it.”
“Wow, I have to teach you how to speak more casual Korean. Thank you, Yixing. By the way, I’m Chanyeol.”
“Usually people introduce themselves first, but I guess that is alright, since you apparently know my name anyways. It is nice to meet you, Chanyeol. I’m Zhang Yixing, and I play the guitar.”
Chanyeol plops down beside Yixing and slings an arm around his neck. “You, my friend, are in for one heck of an experience. I promise.”
That’s one down-- two to go.
“... then he told me about how in Changsha, people don’t play guitars, they play classical instruments, but he didn’t want to, so he rebelled and thankfully wasn’t met with backlash from his parents, and he was going to tell me about his big television break but had to leave for class. God, Jongin, I’m so glad that I decided to flat-out ask him, that I didn’t hold back. And he said yes! Can you believe it?”
“Um, not really. You made it sound more like begging than anything else.”
Chanyeol punches Jongin on the shoulder, ‘tsk’-ing before walking ahead. He turns on his heel and walks backwards, watching his friend with his arms folded behind his head.
“Well, at least I made progress. Be proud of me, Jongin, now I don’t need to ask you to join me on one of my music-hall stakeouts.”
Kim Jongin is, albeit two years under Chanyeol, one of his best friends. They’ve known each other since middle school, when Jongin helped Chanyeol find a football that he had accidentally kicked into the secluded corner of a public park after underestimating his leg strength. Ever since that day, they’d meet after school for one-on-one football matches, which eventually morphed into burger joints and PC-bang’s until graduation arrived for Chanyeol. Jongin is a newly-matriculated Sociology major at Jeju National, who rebuffs all claims that he only moved south in the name of Park Chanyeol. Chanyeol is absolutely okay with this-- after all, he does not need to hear the truth to know it.
“So what are you going to do now? You still have to find a bassist and a vocalist. That can’t be too hard, can it?”
Chanyeol sighs, and spins around so he’s walking normally again. “You have no idea.”
Jongin pats his back sympathetically. “I’d help you, if there was any way that I could. Really.”
“Thanks dude,” Chanyeol pouts, sniffing to add a little bit of drama to their conversation. “You’ve always found ways to pull me through the dark.”
“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Jongin was going to add a ‘best’ into that sentence, but they’re in public. Maybe next time.
They walk in silence for a bit, as the sun sets in the west, filtering pastel-orange light into Jeju National’s glass-lined hallways. It’s a very somber atmosphere, until an idea sparks in Chanyeol’s head, and he stops in his tracks.
“Hm?” Jongin turns around to find his friend, head down, standing completely still. “Dude, are you okay?”
Everything happens much too quickly when Chanyeol grabs Jongin by the shoulders and smiles at him, a large, eerie, mischievous smile.
“Kim Jongin, my dear, dear friend,” Chanyeol says slowly, eyes wide. “do I have a proposition for you.”
And so, Park Chanyeol finds himself a bassist. Well, not completely, but Jongin will learn. It won’t be too hard, not with both Chanyeol and Yixing, guitarists of the avant-garde, at his side.
It’s been three weeks. Three weeks with Yixing and Jongin, and Chanyeol still hasn’t gotten anywhere on his search for a vocalist. He’s been barred from stalking the Music Halls as-per agreement with Yixing’s friends (with Yixing as the mediator, of course). He’s tried wandering the popular parts of the island for street performers he may recognize from campus, but his efforts were in vain, as each person he had come across were of unfamiliar faces. He looks to the calendar displayed on his laptop in the middle of a lecture, and glides a hand through his hair before quietly standing up and retreating to the restroom. The clock is ticking, and as of now, Chanyeol is getting nowhere, and the stress is getting to him. He wants this, more than anything. Music is his life, and he’s going to find a way to show it, even if it’s the last thing he does; somewhere inside of him, though, that fire is being threatened by a cold, dark winter, which the light is far from reaching.
As soon as he reaches the restroom, he shuts himself in a cubicle and sits down, burying his face in his hands. He isn’t ready to break, but he sure as hell isn’t showing this pathetic face to Yixing and Jongin right now. They’ve been working so hard towards Chanyeol’s dream that has slowly become a collective goal of theirs. Yixing has been spending extra time with Jongin after classes to help him with his bass skills; Chanyeol takes the reins from him every even day of the week, and on weekends. They’ve also been working together to build a basic set list, from which they can cut or add songs in accordance to the image they are looking to build in preparation for the survival reality show.
Chanyeol continues to sit still, in terse silence, until the sudden sound of a door swinging open startles him out of his daze, and he hears someone walk into the bathroom in the rhythm of a perfect ¾ meter. Said stranger then begins to hum, as Chanyeol hears the metallic ‘zip’ of a pair of trousers and then--
Music.
The stranger begins to sing. Chanyeol can’t quite put his finger on what song exactly, but it’s something by Fly To The Sky, some ballad he heard a few times a decade ago, but that isn’t what matters. It’s the way the stranger’s voice forms a perfect melody that resounds clearly within Chanyeol’s ears, the slight vibrato and smooth, jazzy undertones that complement the way the stranger is choosing to sing the song. Somewhere in-between wallowing in his sorrow and gaping while listening to this heavensent voice, Chanyeol had pulled out his phone. As soon as he regains some self-control, he taps the record button on his video camera and holds it underneath the cubicle door.
“Every day, every night, I’m missing you…” the stranger croons.
Listening to the stranger is like slipping into a nice hot bath after a day outdoors in the middle of winter. It’s like Yixing and his laundry, except it isn’t-- in Chanyeol’s musical heart and soul, it’s magic, it’s everything he’s been looking for for the past month and a little.
It’s love.
And Chanyeol’s not letting him get away.
He bursts out of the cubicle dramatically, huffing as he grips at the sides of the door, and looks into the face of the perpetrator, who is staring at him in equal shock and wonder-- except it isn’t of the same nature.
“Your voice…. is… so--”
“What the fuck?!” the gorgeous-voiced stranger exclaims, quickly zipping his pants and flushing the urinal he was using before backing away in the direction opposite of Chanyeol-- which was, technically, a wall. He backed into a wall. That’s kind of cute.
“I-- what I meant to say was--”
“Who are you?!”
“-I just really love your voice and-“
“Dude, what the hell!”
The stranger ran out of the bathroom before Chanyeol had a chance to say anything else.
“Wait!! Come back!! At least give me your name!!”
No reply. Chanyeol was alone once again.
“… at least wash your hands…” he muttered into the silence.
There it went, the gold at the end of the rainbow, the person that Chanyeol had been searching for for so long-gone, in the span of a few seconds. All because he fucked up without meaning to. Then he remembered-the phone in his hand! He still has the recording! He’ll show it to Jongin, the stranger looked pretty young, with his obscenely large black eyes and thick lips topped by the most perfect cupids bow he’d ever seen, and maybe Jongin’ll recognize him by his voice. But the fire in his heart had been ignited once again. Chanyeol punches his fist into the air in excitement, leaving the men’s restroom with more determination than he entered with.
“Oh, I know this voice! He’s in my batch.”
“WHO!?” Chanyeol practically shouts, leaning as far as he can over he, Jongin, and Yixing’s shared lunch table, hands planted firmly on the tabletop. “Who is he?!”
Jongin and Yixing both recoil in surprise at his sudden exclamation. “U-um, his name is Do Kyungsoo, he’s--”
“Do…. Kyungsoo…” Chanyeol mutters the name multiple times, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He leans back into his chair, whispering to himself as Yixing and Jongin watch on.
“Is he okay…?” Yixing asks, looking at his bandmate and new friend with upturned eyebrows.
“Don’t worry, this happens all the time when he’s trying to come up with some sort of heinous plot.” Jongin deadpans.
Chanyeol’s face turns upwards and he interrupts their conversation. “I need to find out what he looks like. Do you have his Naver blog? Perhaps his KakaoTalk information? Give me something, Jongin, anything, I’m desperate.” He says while rhythmically pounding his fist into his hand.
Jongin’s lips move into a doubtful, worried grin. “Um, sure. I think I have his Kakao. He’s in my class--”
“No time to waste, Kim Jongin!! Auditions are in three months-- technically two in a half!! We need our vocalist! Move, move, move!”
“Jeez, alright! I’m not in the army yet, give me some time.”
Jongin pulls up Kyungsoo’s profile from KakaoTalk. Kyungsoo is a law student, studying to be a prosecutor. He’s incredibly smart, a gold-star student, and attends one of Jongin’s course classes as a way to fill in his schedule. Apparently, Do Kyungsoo hasn’t got much time on his hands. This might prove to be a bit challenging on Chanyeol’s part, but he’s willing to try anything, as long as he gets Kyungsoo on their side. Besides, who can resist the allure of fun with friends, original music, and a bonus cash prize?
Apparently, Do Kyungsoo can resist the allure of fun, music, and money. Chanyeol has tried twice already to approach the boy, but he always seems to find a way to escape. The first time was in the cafeteria; as Chanyeol trudged his way with a large, welcoming smile on his face, Kyungsoo glared at him and stood up, power-walking out of the cafeteria until he couldn’t be seen and the smile had faded from Chanyeol’s face. The second was in the courtyard, between classes, when Chanyeol caught a glimpse of him walking along the rock-lined paths to and from buildings and bum-rushed him.
“PleasejoinmybandIneedyourvoiceitissoamazingpleaseIthinkyou’rethebestplease--”
“If you do not step away from me,” Kyungsoo growled, “I will stone you with one of those--” Kyungsoo points at a particularly large rock that is sitting by the grey concrete, mockingly gleaming as if to warn Chanyeol of it’s presence, “without fear, or regret.”
Chanyeol promptly backs away, and Kyungsoo resumes his walk to class, leaving Chanyeol alone, and unscathed. He contemplates shouting “Resistance is futile!” after Kyungsoo, but the rocks are still in close proximity, and chooses against it. Round two, over. Kyungsoo: 2, Chanyeol: 0.
Chanyeol swears that he’s this close to giving up until one day he passes a cafe on the way home from school, and, while nonchalantly peering through the cafe’s display window to see what pastries they’re selling today, spots a familiar mop of jet-black hair and a pair of eyes he’d know any day. Slowly, he backtracks to the cafe entrance and creeps upon Kyungsoo, who is hunched over a book with headphones creating a barrier of obliviousness that is very, very beneficial to Chanyeol. When he sits down in front of Kyungsoo with a slight smirk on his face, the first thing Chanyeol sees is surprise, and when he braces himself for hostility, the only thing he receives is a defeated sigh, and Kyungsoo slides the headphones off his ears and around his neck.
“So,” Kyungsoo says wearily. “You’ve caught me.”
The first thing Chanyeol does is apologize. “I’m sorry for filming you in the bathroom…”
“You WHAT?!” Kyungsoo’s eyes are suddenly aflame, but after another sigh and a hand to the forehead, he decides not to react. After all, he is a regular at this cafe, and a sudden bad rep with the baristas he has come to know as close acquaintances is not something he needs right now. “Ugh, just… nevermind. Why are you…”
“Chasing you?”
“Well, yeah.”
Chanyeol laughs nervously. “See, here’s the thing…” He takes a deep breath. Here’s your chance, Chanyeol. Just go all-in. Nothing to lose. Just like the last time.
After introducing himself and explaining his “trapped in Jeju” situation, Chanyeol explains the entire concept of Superstar K-6 to Kyungsoo slowly, how you go through a few rounds of auditions before you are finally admitted onto the show, how the judges are famous musicians whose feedback will be incredibly beneficial to those with musical talent (especially those who aren’t used to singing in public, Chanyeol adds. When Kyungsoo asks him why he did that, Chanyeol simply coughed in the direction of the restrooms, and Kyungsoo shut up.) They get to go to Seoul, and may miss a few months of University because of that, but Chanyeol believes that if they push through with this as a group, he, Kyungsoo, and the others, will be well rewarded.
“It’s a bit of a gamble, I know,” Chanyeol says, and Kyungsoo can hear the sincerety in his voice. “But I’m not going to give up my dream without even trying. And I need you, with me, to be able to do this right. You’re the key, Kyungsoo. You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”
Kyungsoo brings a loosely-curled fist to his chin, grazing his top lip with his index finger, and whoa, hold on a second, are his cheeks turning pink?! Kyungsoo clears his throat, but Chanyeol can’t stop staring at how his lips are tinted a soft cherry, a deep pink on the inside that slowly discolors into a soft nude. He can’t stop thinking about how there’s jazz hip-hop playing in the background, and the scent of coffee is unwillingly slipping into his nose and into his brain, and has his heart ever beat this fast before? It’s all too poetic for reality. Then again, when cherub-like, dashingly charming Do Kyungsoo is an actual, real human being, with a real voice, Chanyeol figures that anything is possible.
“I-- I don’t know, Chanyeol. You’re right. It’s a huge gamble. As a law student, I have a lot to use. I can’t waste time carelessly, I’m sor--”
“No! Wait!” Chanyeol holds a hand out before him in a “stop” motion, eyes turning desperate, and Kyungsoo frowns sympathetically. “See, it gets better, okay?”
There’s a prize. It’s a big prize. And there are opportunities. He’s discussed this already with Jongin and Yixing, and they agreed to split the 300,000,000 Won that goes to the artists personal bank accounts by 4. In the end, 75,000,000 Won doesn’t sound like much, but that all depends on what they do with the further 200,000,000 used in a recording deal. Suddenly, Kyungsoo’s eyes light up. He goes quiet, eyes moving to his empty coffee cup and the half eaten cheesecake that Chanyeol had stopped him from finishing when he burst through the café doors and sat himself on the chair opposite the window. After a few minutes of deep thought, Kyungsoo makes a deal.
“I’ll do it. On one condition.”
And so Chanyeol agrees to give Kyungsoo an extra 25,000,000 won from his prize money in exchange for his patronage. This leaves Kyungsoo with 100,000,000 won if they win, and Chanyeol with a measly half of that. Then again, he guesses he doesn’t mind, since either way, he’ll be living the dream.
“You won’t regret this,” Chanyeol says after an exchange of contact information and a brief handshake with Kyungsoo, whose hands are like semi-melted butter, soft and a little warm despite the steady approach of fall upon Jeju.
Kyungsoo stands up, picking up his coffee tray and bringing it to the drop off counter near the cashier.
“I better not,” he warns jokingly, but the look he gives Chanyeol right afterwards gives him the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Kyungsoo isn’t joking after all. He gathers his things and pulls the headphones back onto his head before picking up his books and walking towards the exit.
“Oh, by the way,” Kyungsoo starts. Chanyeol snaps out of the short state of euphoria he had slipped into after Kyungsoo agreed to join the band. “Hm?”
“This… all of this… it doesn’t mean that I, uh, want to be your friend or anything. Do you understand?”
Chanyeol blinks twice. “Uh, sure.”
“Good.”
And he’s gone.
Practice beings, and Yixing and Kyungsoo get along famously. Jongin is indifferent, working hard to learn the basics of the bass guitar. He still meets with Chanyeol and Yixing every day of the week, but his practices have to be cut short every now and then due to the extra work he decided to put in for himself before they need to get serious. He and Kyungsoo talk once in awhile, but aside from their ages, there isn’t much that binds them together. Either way, the constructive criticism that Kyungsoo departs to Jongin once in awhile regarding timing and sound have not once failed to improve Jongin’s skill, and for that he is eternally grateful.
Chanyeol, on the other hand, is persistent, a puppy dog who is always at Kyungsoo’s feet. He never misses one of Yixing and Kyungsoo’s joint practices for the simple joy of listening to Kyungsoo’s voice. He decides that, since they are both in a band now, he can interrupt him in the middle of conversations with fellow students and sunbae’s in the halls, pulling him into a friendly headlock that Kyungsoo still isn’t used to, not even after a few weeks. It peeves him a little bit, but it’s endearing at the same time. Endearment isn’t a feeling that Kyungsoo tolerates very well, but after meeting Chanyeol, he feels the sudden eagerness to learn how.
As a group, they blossom like buds in the springtime-- after a suggestion from one of Yixing’s music major friends (a catty sophomore named Jongdae who takes Mandarin on the side), they decide to upload bad-quality videos onto YouTube. Bad, because Chanyeol has spent all his money on new instruments and rental studios and can’t afford an audiovisual recording contraption. Not only that, the rest of the boys can’t be bothered-- plus, what’s so bad about Jongin’s webcam anyways?
Kyungsoo is particularly enamored by the concept of YouTube musicians. He’s always been a fan of the people who had enough courage to express their love for artists as well as their own music by sharing it with the world, free of charge. Each day he would spend a little bit of his day refreshing the videos that he and his new bandmates had uploaded. He waits with the video open on a window, refreshing every few minutes, his heart spiking with elation if ever the number went up by one or two, or five. So far, their most viewed video has garnered 748 views. It’s a cover of a popular boy group that had debuted about a month ago, something that started with an E. Kyungsoo doesn’t know much about idols, all he knows are that they’re devilishly handsome and oftentimes, have their talent mishandled. He hopes that, if they win this program, he won’t end up that way.
As time progresses, though, views begin to dwindle, and the boys have less and less time to practice and record with midterms coming up. Kyungsoo is suddenly incredibly ticked off. His faith begins to dwindle in the group, and so he decides to confront Yixing about it.
“I don’t think we can do this any more.”
Yixing gapes at him. “What the heck are you talking about?”
“I… I just don’t think we can win.”
Yixing grabs his shoulders. “Kyungsoo, you haven’t even seen the competition. We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. What’s gotten you so down?” It hits Kyungsoo at that moment that Yixing’s fluency has improved immensely since they’ve started hanging together.
Kyungsoo sighs. “I just… the YouTube videos… aren’t doing well at all, are they.”
“Well, when our thumbnails look the way they do, I wouldn’t expect much of anything from any netizens.” Yixing huffs.
“No, you don’t get it. Yixing, I need this, I’m risking everything, you don’t even know, I just--” he exhales sharply through his nose. “I really need--”
Kyungsoo pauses. He closes his eyes, and asks himself, but, do I really? Need this? He shakes his head and turns away from Yixing. “I need to go to the library. Got a lot of catching up to do. I’ll… see you around, Yixing.”
Yixing watches Kyungsoo walk away, his shoulders slumped sadly, face scrunched with confusion. “He… needs it?”
He should probably tell Chanyeol about this.
Kyungsoo stops coming to practice. Chanyeol, naturally, starts panicking.
“I knew it, I knew this was going to happen, God, I am always such a screw up--”
“Calm yourself, man!” Jongin slaps Chanyeol’s face after catching him during one of his “frozen panic attack” moments. “You didn’t know this was going to happen, no one did.”
“He said he needed this??”
Yixing nodded. “I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Maybe the band was one of the escapes from his basic, law student routine? Either way, he’s never told me about his troubles, so I wouldn’t know…”
Chanyeol sighed. “I feel so helpless,”
“It’s okay,” Yixing stood up to pat him on the back. “we all kind of do.”
“I’ve got to talk to him,” Chanyeol says. Jongin can see the determination seething out of his eyes. “What’s the day today?”
“Tuesday, why?”
Chanyeol allows one of the corners of his lips to turn upwards. “Good, then. I know just where to find him.”
Chanyeol slams his palms onto the coffee table, jolting Kyungsoo from his half-dazed study session. Kyungsoo groans, pulling off his headphones and leaning back into his velveteen armchair.
“What do you want?”
“Why’d you stop coming?”
Kyungsoo turns away. “It was a waste of time.”
Chanyeol grabs him by the collar. “You’re lying,” he growls through his teeth. “you’re lying because you enjoyed yourself, and I know it.”
Kyungsoo scoffs, but it’s so half-hearted that even the naivest student on campus would be able to see through it. Chanyeol lets go, and sinks into the seat opposite Kyungsoo.
“I… I just don’t understand. We made a deal, I thought you were happy with it.”
Kyungsoo frowns worriedly. “I, well, I was, but…”
“Did you lose faith in us?”
“... maybe a little.”
Chanyeol forms one of his hands into a fist. This can’t be happening, not now. Not after everything they’d been through.
“What did we do? I thought we were doing great. Kyungsoo, we worked so well together…”
“I just. I don’t want to lose anything… I’ve lost enough.”
Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “Lose? Are you implying that you think we’ll lose?”
“No!” Kyungsoo exclaims almost immediately. “No, I know we can win. We’ve got you, Yixing, even Jongin is sounding great nowadays. And… well, we’ve got me. I’ll admit it.”
Chanyeol’s lips twitch into a smile. “Huh. So you’ve seen the light.”
“I know I’m good, Chanyeol. But… our videos…”
“Oh my god,” Chanyeol breathes. “So this is all about the videos? You think we’re going to lose because… our videos aren’t popular.”
Kyungsoo bites his bottom lip. “I don’t take things in stride.”
“Kyungsoo, I don’t get it.” Chanyeol leans forward, bringing his face closer to Kyungsoo’s. “You’ve lost too much. You need this win. What’s made you like this? Why do you need this so bad?”
There’s a long pause. Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol, silent, as if he’s waiting for something, for Chanyeol to get up and leave, for Chanyeol to look away, or show any signs of backing down. But Chanyeol isn’t going anywhere. Kyungsoo purses his lips, squinting his eyes, before giving in. He sighs, and looks at Chanyeol apologetically.
“I’m going to be honest with you. This entire thing, being so set on winning the competition, asking the extra prize money-- it’s because I need it. Real bad. It’s the same reason why I’m here, studying Law. I need money, Chanyeol… and I need it fast.”
Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol everything. His mother is ill; she’s been in the hospital ever since Kyungsoo graduated from Middle School. His father, in turn, works deathly hours throughout the day in order to come up with enough for his mother’s bills. His extended family don’t care enough to give them any help, and so Kyungsoo feels that it’s up to him to get his family out of this mess. He’s at Jeju National on a full scholarship, graduating at the top of his class in both High School and Middle School. He’s always loved singing, but becoming a star had never crossed his mind. He’s been scouted before, but had always turned offers down due to the repercussions of training under companies that he’d read about on online forums. He never wanted to give into show business, but if it means a little, just a little help for his family, he’s willing to do anything.
Kyungsoo brushes his bangs from the front of his face. He looks straight at the table, refusing to meet Chanyeol’s forlorn gaze. He laughs pathetically, the sarcastic heavy in his vanilla-smooth voice. “So, that’s my story. Doesn’t it sound like a drama plot? This world, it’s full of antagonists.”
Chanyeol hesitates, looking for the right words to say, but his lips are frozen in place.
“… so that’s why you asked me to increase your portion of the prize money?”
Kyungsoo nods in response. Chanyeol pauses, then slowly, lifts an arm to tilt Kyungsoo’s chin upwards until they’re eye-to-eye.
“Kyungsoo, if you’d have told me earlier, I would have given you everything. I’m doing this because it’s always been my dream… but you need this more than I need my dream.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes widen until Chanyeol swear’s that they’re this close to popping out of their sockets. “What?” and Chanyeol smiles.
“Look, you, and the others, you’ve helped me turn a dream into a goal. Now, i’ll make it my dream to help you get yours. So you can’t leave, okay?”
Kyungsoo’s lips part and his cheeks crimson rose and Chanyeol’s pretty sure he hears heavenly hymns playing in the background as a halo forms around Kyungsoo’s body because all at once, Kyungsoo becomes one of the most beautiful, angelic things that Chanyeol has ever seen.
“I… thank you.” Chanyeol smiles, pulling his arm back. Kyungsoo chuckles, “I guess it’s my turn to say that I won’t let you down.”
Perhaps Chanyeol has always loved Kyungsoo’s voice, but he’s thinking that he loves a little more than just that now. Maybe, for Kyungsoo, it’s the same, too.
There’s one and a half weeks until local auditions. Things have gotten more active between the four boys, with midterms out of the way. They’ve been meeting after school everyday, using the band rooms after Yixing got special access to them, courtesy of Jongdae. One day, during a meeting, Chanyeol decides to bring up the topic of band names.
“Guys, we are… nameless.”
“Ooh, that’s a nice name.” Jongin quips. Kyungsoo shoots him a glare. “Support of suggestion overruled.”
“Now now, Kyungsoo, this isn’t the supreme court. Save that for class.” Yixing tut-tuts. Chanyeol grins as the scene unfolds before him. Four months ago, no one could have thought that he would have gotten along with a Chinese exchange student and a high-strung, quiet Law major.
“Well, who wants to go first, then?”
Yixing’s hand shoots into the air. “I suggest… ‘The Mercuries’”
“Like, Freddy Mercury? I think you’ve got the genre wrong… weren’t we supposed to be pop-rock?”
“No, no, as in the planet!” Yixing draws a large circle with his arms above his head, making an ‘ooh’ sound as the planet comes to completion.
Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I disagree. ‘Mercuries’, for one, isn’t even a word. And how do you expect the public to pronounce that properly? I don’t think it’d be very easy for either of us, to be honest.”
“Fine, then. Sorry, Yixing.”
“It’s alright,” Yixing smiles. “I just figured that the name made sense, since we’re the underdogs. Being college students and all.”
“Alright. You, Kim Jongin?”
“Uh…” Jongin holds up his index finger as he thinks. “... how about ‘LOCK&KEY’? No spaces, all capitals.”
“Right. And why do you think this name is suitable for us?” Chanyeol pretends to fix an invisible pair of reading glasses set upon his nose. Kyungsoo and Yixing giggle at the tiny gesture.
“Dunno. It just sounds cool.”
“Okay Kyungsoo, your turn!”
Jongin stands up from his seat. “Wait, what?! No constructive criticism!?”
“He said next, Jongin.” Kyungsoo affirms. Slowly, Jongin backs down, pasting a victory smirk on Kyungsoo’s face.
“Well, I think--”
“OH! WAIT! I’ve got it!” Chanyeol exclaims, throwing his arms in the air in a show of victory.
“You interrupted me…”
“Sorry, sorry, but what do you guys think of… ‘Rose Metal’?”
The suggestion is met by silence, and Chanyeol takes this as a sign to shut up.
“Ahem. Right, where was I? Oh, yes. I suggest…”
Tension builds within the room as people anticipate genius scholar extraordinaire Do Kyungsoo and his fascinating name reveal.
“... ‘Eclipse’.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes light up at the suggestion. It’s easy to pronounce, and stands for how they plan on overshadowing the rest of their opponents in the limelight. It’s suitable, for sure, and so it sticks.
“Right, so we’re ‘Eclipse’ now!” Chanyeol grins, writing the name in big, bold alphabet letters on an imaginary piece of paper.
“I’m happy with it!” Jongin smiles.
“Seconded,” Yixing agrees.
“Thanks, guys.”
Yixing grabs Kyungsoo and pulls him in for a hug, after which they are bombarded by Jongin and Chanyeol cannons that refuse to relent no matter what they plea. Slowly but surely, everyone has grown much more comfortable with each other. They’re like a second family, and the fears that have built up within Chanyeol of the aftermath if they fail have slowly begin to dissipate. Chanyeol peers at Kyungsoo despite the mess of their group hug, and manages to catch his eye. He winks, and Kyungsoo quickly glances away, the skin above his cheekbones coloring a soft pink.
Chanyeol thinks about it, and he decides that even if they end up losing, and have to be sent home, perhaps staying in Jeju won’t be as bad as he thinks. Not at all, as long as they’re together.
It’s the day before local auditions. This is it, Kyungsoo decides. He’s risking everything for this one chance, and he isn’t going to blow it. Not for himself, nor for the new friends he’s made along the way.
He ventures out to meet Chanyeol at the cafe where he had been confronted twice. Before he knew it, the location had morphed from his own secret space to a place for two-- he and Chanyeol would meet there often, for both schoolwork and band-related matters. And yet, Kyungsoo was still able to find comfort whenever he was there. In fact, he found that whenever he came without Chanyeol at his side, his stays were shorter, quieter, and much, much lonelier, so he would always find opportunities to ask the other to accompany him. “For… study reasons, of course.”
Chanyeol would simply smile, and they’d walk to the cafe that day after classes finished.
A few minutes after he sits down, Chanyeol comes bursting through the door.
“One day left!!” he exclaims joyously, whoop-ing when he takes a seat. He waves at the barista, a friendly young man named Minseok who had recently come back from Japan after a professional barista course.
“Aren’t you excited?” Chanyeol gasps, the glint in his eyes shining brighter than ever. Kyungsoo smiles, a little sadly.
“Honestly, I’m kind of sad that this all might be ending soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Kyungsoo decides he has nothing to lose anymore, so he decides to come clean. “these past few months… have been some of the best months I’ve ever lived. Really. Honest to god.”
Chanyeol’s eyes widen, and his cheeks spread to make room for the monstrous smile he smiles whenever overly elated. Over time, Kyungsoo has come to learn Chanyeol just as well as he’s known himself.
“I mean, the burden of my parents’ sacrifices and struggles are still a heavy weight on my shoulders, but…” Kyungsoo looks up at Chanyeol shyly, and he doesn’t think he’s ever noticed the way his hair glitters under the sunlight, strands of deep auburn-brown that almost resemble gold. A rare mineral, just as precious as Chanyeol has become to him.
“Opening my heart to you has been one of the most liberating things in my life. I’m so grateful, Chanyeol. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’ll always be here.”
Chanyeol grins softly, resting his chin on his elbow as he rests on the coffee table, looking up at Kyungsoo.
“I swear, Do Kyungsoo. If this was a drama, this would be the part when the female protagonist kisses the hero out of sheer gratitude. Don’t… maybe you should do the same?”
Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo, an inviting smile playing upon his lips, and Kyungsoo smirks.
“I’m not that easy, Park Chanyeol.” he says, grabbing the menu placed onto their table when he arrived, and lifting it to conceal their faces from the main counter. “But I’ll let it slide just this once.
And so he does.