Chapter Text
The night is young and your back is sore when your phone vibrates on top of the piano you’re sitting at in your tiny apartment. The vibration on the hard, black lid brings you back to the surface, away from the song you were playing.
You glance at the name on the phone to see if it’s worth your time to stop practicing. ‘DOX’ is flashing on the display. You smile and slip off the headphones and answer quickly before it rejects.
“Dox, long time no talk,” you smile into the phone.
“Hey Keys. What you up to?” his voice tickles your ear, calling you by your nickname.
“What I’m always doing, breaking my back over the black and whites. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” you tease. You haven’t spoken or texted in over 2 weeks.
He sucks in a breathe, knowing he’s being called out but you can hear the smile on the other side.
“You don’t let anything slide do you?” he laughs. “Anyway, I just needed a quick favor. I have a couple projects I’ve been working on but I’d like to get a classically trained ear on it, if you don’t mind.”
“Ooh, fancy. Does KQ not have the budget for an on-staff orchestra?” you goad, knowing full well that KQ was doing VERY well these days.
“We have people that can play keyboards and synth but you know it’s not the same,” he says. “Also, you can play a decent violin, I’ve heard.”
“I’m just teasing, of course I’ll stop by. I’m actually free now,” you say, glancing at the time on your phone and feeling the ache in your spine.
“That’s perfect. I’m at the studio now, just rock on by whenever you’re ready, we’ll probably be here most of the night,” he says.
“Oh, okay, great. Well um, see you in - 20 minutes,” you hear ‘thanks keys’ and hang up the phone, arching your back, feeling little pops in your lower spine. You wonder what he meant by we, not realizing there would be company.
You tie your hair into a quick ponytail and don a baseball cap. The rest of your outfit is comfortable black athletic wear and white sneakers.
After only 10 minutes in the Uber you arrive at KQ and find yourself in an elevator, heading up to the recording floor. You’ve been there a handful of times before and were familiar with the building’s layout but had really only ever interacted with Maddox. Mostly, you were only ever there long enough to use the company as a rendezvous spot.
Your feet take you to the door of Maddox’s studio and you knock twice.
“Come in,” you hear Maddox’s voice. You swing open the door and see him smiling from his chair. “Keys, you made it!”
“Yeah, ya bastard, only calling me when you need something,” you say as you walk over and bend down to give Maddox a hug. He returns it warmly but when you pull back he has a sheepish look on his face and you see his eyes dart to another chair in the room. You follow his gaze.
“Ahem. Hongjoong, this is Y/N. Y/N, Hongjoong,” Maddox introduces you with a cheeky grin.
You turn to the man sitting in the other office chair, slouched with his legs spread, and a laptop perched there. He has faded blonde hair with his roots coming through tucked under a backwards cap. He has a chain around his neck and some rings and bracelets on. His face is bare and he’s wearing ripped jeans and a baggy sweater.
He stands up quickly and gives you a small bow.
“Hello Y/N, nice to meet you,” he says with a courteous smile. You quickly bow back, remembering yourself.
“Hello, Hongjoong. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were here. It’s nice to meet you, too,” you smile back at him nervously as he sits back down in his chair.
You stand there awkwardly, having your familiarity with Maddox but not Hongjoong, throwing you off. Maddox’s voice finally unfreezes you.
“You can sit on the couch over there, if you want,” he motions to the two seat sofa attached to the wall. “I’m just going to quickly play some of these out loud. I just need your general feelings on them and if you would change anything.”
You quickly step past the blonde man in his chair and plant yourself on the couch. He’s no longer regarding you, but intently mixing audio files on his own laptop. He’s not using headphones so you figure he must be so familiar with the tracks that he can hear them in his head.
Maddox turns to you and you nod your head that you’re ready. The speakers in the room wake up and a synth intro fades into a simple melody with some lazy, breathy audio over it. You could never mistake Maddox’s honeyed vocals. The beat falls away with the melody being played by a piano and then the beat comes back brighter. The song ends and to your surprise, not only Maddox, but Hongjoong turn to you with curious expressions.
“It feels very sensual. Uncomplicated - like a good relationship,” you muse out loud.
Hongjoong raises his eyebrows but turns back to his own screen. You look at your good friend Maddox and see his ears turning pink. He scratches the back of his neck and laughs nervously.
“I can always count on you to give your honest opinion,” he smiles. “What do you think about the arrangement?”
“Honestly, I think you’re good to go. I can’t think of anything I would change at the moment, it feels like a finished song. Maybe just needs a little more mastering to polish but it sounds complete to me,” you say as you cross your legs and lean back on the couch. “Did you have anything else?”
Over the course of the next few hours he plays you the remaining 4 songs that will be on his next album. You all exchange notes but Hongjoong seems reluctant to speak to you directly but he did seem to listen intently whenever you had something to say.
You couldn’t blame him, you really didn’t know each other at all. Finally it was around midnight when Maddox suggested the three of you order something to eat.
“Thanks, but I can’t. My manager would not be happy if I stayed out late with boys eating dak galbi,” You sigh and stand up to pull your puffy jacket on.
You glance over just as Maddox rolls his eyes. He had never really cared for your full-time music instructor, part-time manager who really kept you under his thumb. But, honestly, you were thankful for him wanting to protect your reputation so that you could succeed as a solo pianist.
Your full schedule and rigorous practice routine kept you busy and out of trouble and you secretly enjoyed not having to think about those things for yourself. You felt like your career was being taken care of and you were happy to not rock the boat.
Suddenly, Hongjoong spun in his chair and looked at you directly, with a cheeky smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Do you always do as you’re told?” he asks, for the first time to you directly. He dips his face toward you and raises a curious brow, expecting you to be offended by his intrusive question.
Maddox is quiet, not sure what to say. You pause, taken by surprise, but a little scoff leaves you.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” you say with no shame.
He barely reacts, expecting the tone of your reply.
“That’s a good thing, Y/N. I meant no offense,” he drawls, trying to muster an apologetic face.
Though you’ve never met Hongjoong, you know exactly who he is, the leader of Ateez. And being adjacent to the industry you know that he went through the same strict rules as an idol trainee before and after debut. He may be 27 now, with Ateez well established in the industry as one of the greatest 4th gen groups, but he also started as just a hopeful.
“None taken, Hongjoong-seonbaenim,” you tack on the senior title to drive home the point that you’re well aware of your place and you don’t need him to talk down to you.
“Good,” he smiles slightly, digging his tongue into his cheek. He finally looks away from you but pulls himself up in his chair and is suddenly very intent on his laptop again.
You turn to Maddox and his eyes are wide. He exhales the breath he was holding and waves a hand at Hongjoong.
“Actually, Keys, Hongjoong is also in need of some fresh perspective on his solo album,” he finally says, rushing through his sentence to get it out as quickly as possible. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping it can be saved.
You can’t see Hongjoong’s face, but by the look on Maddox’s face, he was throwing daggers at him right now. You swallow and just stand there, not sure what to say. Maddox throws his eyes back and forth at Hongjoong, urging him to say something.
Once again, Hongjoong spins around in his chair and stand up quicker than you expected. You are surprised to see he has a polite smile and on his face. But you feel like it’s forced, perhaps practiced.
“Yes, Y/N, let’s start over,” he puts a hand towards you to shake on it.
Perplexed, you take his hand. It’s soft but powerful as it envelopes yours and instead of shaking he gently squeezes it. You can feel some heat in your ears.
“Please, come by my studio and have a listen to the demos. Maddox thinks very highly of you, so I trust his feeling,” he smiles at you, with his practiced camera face that you’ve seen many times before on programs.
You know he’s just trying to save face after being not-so-polite but a part of you wants to jump at the chance to work with him, the leader of Ateez. With his expert public relations skills he is probably just trying to avoid you leaking that he was rude in private.
“Okay, sure,” you stammer a bit, and look down at your hand, still wrapped in his polished fingers. You finally pull away from him. Not sure what to do with your hand now, you nervously tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear.
You suddenly feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket, your Uber is finally hear and waiting. The vibration brings you back to reality.
“Oh, I really gotta go! Dox, can you give him my number?” you ask, not waiting for the answer as you turn for the door.
“It would be my pleasure, Keys,” you hear Maddox’s voice with a hint of smugness to it.
“See you later, Y/N.” You hear Hongjoong’s voice behind you and you turn on your heel.
“Oh, you can just call me Keys, if you like! See you, bye!” you call out, backing out of the door. The last thing you see is Maddox’s self-satisfied expression and Hongjoong’s uncertain face as you close the door behind you.
You take a deep breath and hurry down the hall to catch your ride, rattled from the exchange. Almost as soon as you shut the door to the black sedan, you phone is ringing again and it’s your manager.
“Hello, Duri,” you answer, routinely.
“Try not to sound too happy to hear from me,” he says, exasperated. “Besides, I’m calling about your next group exhibition. It’s going to be taking place at the Seoul Institute of the Arts and the theme is going to be classical pop. You’ll also need to compose an original pop classic, including lyrics and you’ll be performing it yourself.”
Your breathing hitches at the mention of singing live. You’re not a singer or even a writer. You can compose a sonata with your eyes closed but this was way out of your wheel house. You can’t hold back your panic.
“Are you crazy?” is all you manage to squeak out.
“Hey, everyone else exhibiting has the same requirements. Besides, you can sing perfectly well and, who knows, maybe you could go viral and this jump starts your solo career. It’s a hell of an opportunity, Keys!” he tries to spin it positively. “I know you don’t want to hear this but you’ve already been accepted as an exhibitor, so it’s happening whether you like it or not.”
You feel a knot in your stomach at the thought if singing out loud.
“O-Okay. I gotta go, I think I’m gonna be sick,” you hang up the phone with no preamble and feel the eyes of your Uber driver glance at you through the rear view mirror. You smile nervously and wave your hand to let him know you’re just being dramatic.
Once you arrive to your apartment and lock the door behind you, you can feel the prick of tears in your eyes. The stress of doing something you’ve never done before finally winning the battle in your mind.
“Fuck,” you breathe, wiping the tears out of your eyes. You hate to cry and it gives you headaches that can last for hours. As you lean against the door, you can feel your phone vibrate again. You sigh, pulling it out of your pocket. It’s probably Duri again, trying to assuage your fears.
To your surprise it’s an unsaved number - a text message with a waving hand emoji. You open it and see the next messages.
Hi (wave)
It’s Hongjoong
Maddox gave me your number of course
I hope you made it home safely
You didn’t expect him to reach out so soon but you couldn’t help the smile on your face because he wished you home safely.
Hey!
Yes, I made it home safely
Thanks
You expected that to be the end of it but three dots appeared immediately. He was already writing you back.
I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable today
I haven’t been my usual self lately
You quietly wonder if that actually was his true self but he was still trying to save face in front of you, a stranger. Regardless, you could play along so as to keep things friendly.
No, of course not
Long hours in the studio can make anyone tense
You wanted to say ‘intense’ because some of the looks he was giving you would make a grown man have second thoughts. In the brief moments he did acknowledge you, you felt like you were being weighed, measured, and found wanting. A few minutes pass before he responds.
So when would be a good time to meet?
You were pleasantly surprised he was already trying to set up your meeting. Perhaps he hadn’t found you as inept as you thought you were. Or maybe he was just trying to get it out of the way because he felt obligated.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes, red from stress crying. Doubting yourself was a bad habit, which Duri was always scolding you for. You took a quick look at your calendar.
I’m free Sunday afternoon
He messages back instantly.
I can make that work
See you then
You feel like that was the natural end to the exchange but you hate not responding to messages. You feel like you have to have the last word, be the most friendly.
Sleep well
You instantly start cringing after hitting send, not sure if that was too much. It was a natural conversation ender with some of your closer friends, like Maddox. A few minutes pass and the chat stays silent. After embarrassing yourself inwardly multiple times today, you’re ready for a shower and sleep. Before you forget, you quickly save his number as 'ATZ HJ'.