Chapter Text
The studio was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the mixing board and the faint light slipping through the blinds.
Jisung sat cross-legged on the couch, scribbling in his battered notebook, headphones dangling loosely around his neck.
He tapped the pen rhythmically against his knee, his head bobbing to a silent beat only he could hear.
"Got anything yet?" Chan asks from across the room. Messy hair and dimpled smile. Jisung thinks he's the prettiest.
Jisung sighed to himself , flipping the notebook shut. “It’s not that I have nothing. I just don’t have… something.”
"That’s poetic." Chan said as he took a seat next to Jisung. “Not helpful, though.” He adds.
A wry smile tugged on Jisung's lips. "I'm trying. Not everyone is a machine like you"
Jisung couldn't help but lean into his warm embrace. Soft and safe. That's how he feels around Chan. Always.
“Well, machines don't feel” Chan brings his arm around Jisung, keeping them both grounded.
“And you,are nothing if not feelings” Chan added with his own lopsided smile.
“Maybe that's the problem,” Jisung mutters softly,sinking himself into the couch. “ I already feel everything there is to feel. There's nothing else to sayl.”
“That's not true. You know that as well” I think you're scared of really saying what's on your mind, that's why" Chan adds as he runs his fingers through Jisung's soft locks.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. Jisung's heartbeat quickened, and he shifted in Chan's hold, dropping his gaze to the notebook in his lap.
“You’re wrong,” he said finally, though the words lacked conviction.
Chan shrugged, bringing Jisung back in his arms. “Maybe. Or maybe you just need to stop overthinking it. Let your instincts take over for once.”
Jisung stays silent, his chest tightening. Instincts. If only Chan knew how often those instincts revolved around him.
Jisung stayed still, the warmth of Chan's embrace keeping him rooted in the moment. His mind raced, thoughts whirling faster than he could process, but every part of him was tuned into the rhythm of Chan's heartbeat against his chest.
“You know,” Chan whispered, his voice low and soft, "sometimes it's not about finding the right words."
Jisung tilted his head back to look at him, eyes narrowing slightly. "Then what is it about?"
Chan gave him a knowing smile, his fingers gently brushing through Jisung’s hair. "It's about trusting that the words will come when you stop trying so hard."
The room was still, the quiet stretching between them once more. Jisung's heart pounded louder than his thoughts, and for a moment, everything faded away but the space they shared. The world outside seemed distant, irrelevant, as if the universe had paused just for them.
"You make it sound easy," Jisung muttered, though his voice was thick with emotion.
Chan's smile softened, a touch of sincerity breaking through. "It’s only easy when you stop pretending it isn’t."
Jisung couldn’t help but let out a breath, the tension in his chest loosening ever so slightly. The truth hung between them, unspoken but undeniable.
He looked up at Chan, searching his eyes for something more—something deeper. Chan didn’t flinch or shy away; instead, he simply met Jisung’s gaze with unshaken calm, as if he had always known exactly what Jisung needed.
In that quiet, charged space, Jisung realized something. Maybe it wasn’t the words that were the hardest to find. Maybe it was the courage to let them slip out.
“Well,I'm done for the night. See you tomorrow” Jisung says as he reach for his backpack
“See you” Chan said in reply, not bothering to lift his gaze
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The apartment is quiet,save from the faint hum of the refrigerator and occasional rustle of the city outside. Jisung carelessly tosses his backpack on the floor and sinks his body on the couch. Bringing his palm to rub over his face, he hates leaving the studio without getting anything done.
“Let your instincts take over,” Chan had said.
Jisung can't help but pounders about his words. Deciding to pull out his notebook. Jisung scoffed,if only it were that simple.
His gaze fell on the book,pages covered with scrambled words and half written sentences, on the corner written “it's louder when you are near”
Jisung sighs as he grabs his guitar,fingers gently Strumming to a soft and steady rhythm. His heartbeat.
The idea struck Jisung like an electric shock. He pressed his palm to his chest, counting along to its pulsing beat.
He opens a voice recording app on his phone and lays down,placing the phone on his chest. Microphone near his beating heart. For a moment he sat still,holding his breeath as the recording captured the faint, steady beat of his heart
“Not a song but this is something I guess” He tiredly exhales,letting sleep consume him whole.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊
Jisung woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing incessantly on the coffee table.
Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and squinted at the screen.
The bright glow read 9:12 AM, along with a string of missed calls and texts from Chan.
He sat up with a start. “Crap.”
A glance around, disoriented. His guitar was leaning against the couch, and his phone still had the faint audio file of his heartbeat recording paused on the screen. The memory of last night came flooding back—the frustration, the recording, the soft rhythm that had lulled him to sleep.
Another buzz brought him back to reality.
This time, it was Chan calling again. Jisung hesitated before answering, his voice still groggy. “Yeah?”
“Yeah?” Chan’s sharp tone shot through the speaker.
“What do you mean, yeah? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”
A winced, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Sorry, I overslept,” Jisung muttered, his voice hoarse.
Chan let out an exasperated sigh on the other end. “Overslept? You’re not a rookie anymore, Han. We’ve got deadlines to meet, and you can’t just ghost like this.”
“I didn’t ghost,” Jisung argued weakly, glancing at the coffee table where his notebook lay, still mocking him with its blank pages. “I just… lost track of time.”
“Well, find it,” Chan snapped.
“Get down here. We’ve got work to do.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving Jisung staring at his phone, the weight of his unfinished song pressing down on him even harder.
He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the frustration lingering from the day before.
His eyes fell on the paused recording of his heartbeat, the faint waveform visible on the screen.
With a deep breath, he hit play.
The soft, irregular rhythm filled the room, and for a moment, A just listened. It wasn’t perfect,it wasn’t even close but there was something raw and honest in it.
An idea started to form.
He didn’t know if it would work, but it was something.
Snatching his guitar and notebook, A threw on a jacket and headed for the door. His heart was racing again, not from nerves, but from the faint spark of inspiration he hadn’t felt in weeks.
As he stepped into the bustling morning, the rhythm of his heartbeat followed him, steady and insistent, like the beginning of a song only he could hear.