Chan let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, "This isn't going to work, Jeongin." Chan was panicking and stressing over trying to get this to be the absolute perfect promposal.
Jeongin sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, "Hyung, calm down. Everything will be fine." Jeongin tried to reassure Chan, but sadly, it was to no avail.
"No! It has to be perfect! I mean, not a single flaw. Perfect."
His hyung was one of the most talented and dedicated people he knew, but Jeongin was pretty sure his fatal flaw was also those same things. The talent got trapped in the perfectionism, and the dedication meant that he wouldn't stop no matter what unless he was happy with his project.
Thankfully, Jeongin was plenty used to being the outside party that made the hard decisions, and he was well versed at his job of pulling Channie Hyung out of his focus to see that the bigger picture was in fact incredible.
This time, that meant pulling back the whiteboard scribbled over with all the ideas for the promposal, and showing that Chan that almost all of them would guarantee joyful tears of agreement, and every single one would result in a yes anyway, because who wouldn't want to go to prom with his amazing hyung.
"Look," Jeongin said, trying to calm his hyung down from his panicked state, "I don't think it matters which of the ideas you decide to go with, you'll do great either way. But if it gives you peace of mind, we can go through all of them again. Let's start with this one." He pointed to the top left corner of the whiteboard.
It was the simplest of all the ideas Chan had come up with, which wasn't saying much since it was still rather complicated. It involved the recipient getting a hand written note each day from one of their friends. Each note had a letter on it and when put together they spelled out PROM. On day four, Chan would give the final note (letter M) with a bouquet of roses and their favourite candy and ask them to prom. Simple in theory but banking on several factors (the askee keeping all the notes or remembering the letters in order, the friends actually getting the note to the recipient, Chan not panicking at the last second)
As soon as I.N pointed to it, Chan shook his head violently.
"It's too easy, it needs to be something special."
Jeongin groaned and tilted his head back. "Hyuuuuung, you are making this way more difficult than it needs to be. Fine, what about this one?" He pointed to the next idea located more towards the center of the board.
This idea included Chan renting a private single-engine plane that would carry a banner with "PROM?" written across it. Chan would then descend from a ladder, holding a bouquet of the recipient's favorite flowers.
Chan cringed, "Erm....maybe not that one seems a bit over the top..."
Chan looked embarrassed, his ears turning bright red and a hand rubbing at his equally blushing neck.
"I thought maybe I could just keep it simple? Be straightforward and ask, " he said, unsure. "But where would I ask? And when? Would they even say yes?"
Jeongin took in how earnest he looked; at this moment, there was nothing Chan wanted more than getting this right.
"How about somewhere private, with a nice view?" He offered. "Somewhere where there's a romantic atmosphere, but you aren't worried about anybody watching you."
Jeogin knew he had been nervous about the promposal for weeks now. Every day someone or the other had giant fanfare events that could be heard across campus, and then he'd hear tittering about it for the rest of the day. Most of the whispers he'd hears assured him that the elaborateness of the promposal did in fact chart directly with how much you loved your partner. That's a lot of pressure to put on a poster!
"I think that's perfect." He finally said, and seeing the relieved smile on his hyung's face, Jeogin knew that he had finally come to the realization that Channie Hyung and his partner were all that mattered. They weren't the public proposal kind of people anyways.
"Okay, then! Now the important part- we need to find the perfect place for the two of you, and write your speech!"
“Oh gosh! A speech. Right. I can do that. I write all the time! I’ll just-“ it was obvious that Chan was working himself up again, and right when everything seemed to be going well.
“Woah, hey, let’s not focus on the speech right now. Let’s start by picking a location. How’s that sound?” Chan closed his eyes and took in a deep breath like he was trying to manually reset himself. When he opened his eyes, he nodded at his dongsaeng.
“Yeah okay. That sounds good, but” There was a pause like he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “does it need to be classically romantic or can it just be a place that’s special to us?”
Jeongin thought for a moment, "I think it would mean the most to them if it's somewhere that you both enjoy. Somewhere that has a special meaning to both of you."
Chan nodded, "Okay, then I have the perfect place. I'll ask them to accompany me to the place where we had our first date. I took them to a private garden that I found during my first few days here. To this day, I have yet to see anyone else there," a small genuine smile spread across his face as he looked down at his fingers. A light pink hue stretches from his neck to the tips of his ears.
Jeongin admired the kind of relationship his hyung had with his partner. Even though they were all still young, the two of them seemed to be very mature in how they approached their relationship and their care for each other went deeper than just a silly high school crush. The way Chan talked about his partner was the way Jeongin wanted to talk about his own partner one day as well. It was no wonder Chan was so insistant this promposal had to be perfect.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Jeongins mouth.
“It is truly a perfect place, hyung.” Jeongin nodded slowly his head, that faint smile still present on his face. Chan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Somehow, Jeongins approval meant to him more than he had expected.
Nodding faintly, Chan wondered, "I don't wan't to make a huge show or anything, but maybe it would be nice if we had some lights? And maybe our song playing in the background?"
Jeongin didn't know which garden Chan Hyung's promposal was set for, but a lot of the back gardens were old and sometimes decommissioned, which meant the pathways were unmaintained too. Of course his responsible elder was thinking for the practical safety of his partner. And well, music was the most important thing in Channie Hyung's life, second probably only to his partner.
"That sounds really nice, hyung," Jeongin said, smiling at him.
"Is that enough though? Maybe I should sing them the song instead of having it just play in the background?" Chan wondered aloud. "I could go back to our idea of hiring Jisung and Changbin as my backup dancers. Should I?" Chan paused in his spiraling for a moment. "No, they would hate that. That's not romantic at all. What am I thinking?"
“Calm down, hyung” Jeongin sighed and put his hands on Chan’s shoulders to ground him for a moment before starts spiraling again.
“As much as I love Hannie hyung and Binnie hyung, you are right. Them doing pirouettes in the background is far from something that fits a romantic scenery.” He chuckled softly at the sheer thought of those two doing a whole routine while Chan hyung would be seconds away from fainting from the stress of it all.
“Let’s start from the basics shall we?” Jeongin said. “You said no one is really visiting that garden. Is it even presentable now?” he asked.
Jeongin could see Channie hyung recentering himself, and his brow furrowed as he thought. "It's not what most people would see as presentable, but that's the charm for them. The garden in its authentic state as nature wishes for it to be."
"The path there though... we haven't been in a while either, so it's really been running wild."
If he just sent Chan Hyung out with a machete to clear the brush in his white tank under the hot sun, Jeongin is pretty sure that would be an appealing enough promposal for his partner.
"How about this, hyung: We go to the garden today to see if the path is currently usable and think about where you want to put up the lights. Then we come back and make our plans for the time and date and we can start drafting your speech. How does that sound?"
Chan just looked at him and nodded.
Jeongin grinned, relieved they were on a more concrete path again. "Great! Let's go then!"
They walked for a bit longer than Jeongin expected and with every few steps there greenery around them was becoming more and more unkept. He started to have a second thought if they’ll be able to tackle it without a proper equipment.
“We’re almost there I promise…” Chan said with an apologetic smile on his face.
Suddenly, they heard a crashing noise, and out of the trees behind them, burst Seungmin, panting and out of breath.
"Have you seen about, fifteen chinchillas tied to about, fifty balloons?"
Jeongin and Chan looked at each other, and then back to Seungmin.
"If I say no," Chan started, "How much trouble are you about to be in?"
"None with the school. Plenty with the Felix Promposal Organizational committee." Seungmin replied smartly.
They all shuddered simultaneously. That was a rough spot to be in, but Chan and Jeongin couldn't help, and advised Seungmin instead...
"If you tied balloons to them, shouldn't they be super visible?," Jeongin said, confused about how one could lose fifteen chinchillas and fifty balloons at once.
"Well, technically yes," Seungmin started with a sort of sheepish look on his face, "but not if the balloons are green and they ran away into the bushes." Jeongin was still wondering why the hell someone would bring chinchillas tied to green balloons to a promposal of all things, but bit back a sarcastic comment. Seungmin was clearly in enough distress already.
"Have you tried luring them out with treats," Chan suggested instead.
"Oh. That's a good idea, actually. Thanks Hyung." and with that Seungmin pulls out his phone mumbling something about texting Han since he was 'sure Han knew what chinchillas ate as he practically is one'.
With that miniature crisis somewhat solved, Chan and IN continued their walk to the garden. Suddenly something rose up out of one of the bushes. It was a very small Chinchilla with a very full balloon and it was starting to float away.
"SEUNGMIN! I think we found your chinchillas!" Chan was just about to lung at the flying rodent when...
He saw some MORE chinchillas just floating around near the path leading to the garden.
"No,this cannot be happening. Innie, those chinchillas arent ACTUALLY in the gardens...right?? Anywhere but there hahaha",Chan laughed nervously as he speedwalked towards the garden, with Jeongin following just behind.
"Please. Please. Please," Chan muttered as he finally made it to the gardens. Much to his horror, the Chinchillas were all over the gardens, and balloons littered the ground. "Oh come on..." he groaned.
Jeongin came up from behind him and saw everything, his eyes widening. "Okay, Hyung, don't freak out. It's going to be fine." Jeongin said, patting Chan on the shoulder. "We just have to...clean this up. Somehow."
IN surveyed the damage. There were popped balloons, strings, chinchillas and of course all the things that come with chinchillas (yuck). He stooped down to start picking up some debris, avoiding the chinchillas as much as possible.
"Look on the bright side, Hyung, we still have a few days before the promposal. We can call Felix and co to come collect their chinchillas and then pick up all the trash and cut back the bushes. Then all we need to do is find a hose or something to spray off the sidewalks and get some solarpowered string lights to hang in the trees." Chan nodded shakily, still looking a bit shellshocked.
"I will get this taken care of, Hyung." I.N gently guided Chan away, dragging his eyes from where they were still stuck on the rodent size wreckages. "Why don't we work on something else in the meantime."
"R-right, yeah." Chan sighed, finally letting I.N pull him out of the garden. "I need to decide which version of the song I want to do," He looked down the long path, and then back at the garden.
"You don't think... that was a sign or something? Not to go through with this?"
"What? Hyung, No! You should still do this! I know you're nervous, but just because Seungmin messed up doesn't mean you give up." Jeongin said. "How about you go work on your speech while I get Felix and co. to help clean this mess up."
Chan nodded and let out a heavy sigh as he made his way back to the club room to decide which version of the song he was going to use and how he was going to ask.
Chan sat at a table in the corner of the club room, switching back and forth between tabs on his laptop. It was not an easy decision to make. On the one hand, the slower, more melodic version of the song was perfect for the romantic setting he was looking for. On the other hand, his partner was a big fan of the dubstep remix that he had made a while ago, so that was more like their song than the slow version. There was also the silly acapella version he had recorded one time while he was bored and couldn't fall asleep at 11pm. He wasn't considering it seriously at first but after failing to decide between the other two, he thought he might as well cover all his bases. The acapella version would make his partner laugh, for sure.
With that out of the way, all that was left to work on was the speech. But what should he say? He wanted it to be deep and meaningful, fully expressing how much he loves them and wants to make cheesy memories with them but at the same time he didn’t want it to be too long and them get bored.
The songs run time was only 3-ish minutes so if he kept his speech a similar amount of time it wouldn’t be too bad.
Great short and sweet and deep and meaningful. Yeah. He could do that. He’s a song writer for goodness sakes! So why can’t he come up with any words?
He pushed back his laptop and drops his head down onto the table with a loud thud just in time for someone to walk in the club room.
Chan squints up to see who has witnessed his moment of weakness and shame when he's meant to be a shining beacon of leadership for Teacup club... And then lets his head drop again, because it's just Hyunjin, who has seen him in much worse states.
"I'm thinking of shaving my hair and becoming a monk, eternally loveless and without material goods." He mumbles into the table.
Hyunjin tsks at him, running his hands though Chan's hair and sighing. "I heard there's someone who would be very disappointed if you got rid of your quote unquote lucious locks." Chan's head shoots up again.
"Then again I suppose a monk doesn't need to know that there's been rumors about a certain someone going prom shopping..."
"Wait. Prom shopping?!" Chan said staring at Hyunjin, "Already?"He groaned and dropped his head once more. "How is it I haven't even asked them yet and they're already Prom shopping."
"Hyung, you're being a bit dramatic you know? And that saying a lot coming from me considering I'm the king of dramatics," Hyunjin sighed and sat next Chan. "Why haven't you asked yet? Honestly it's all they've been able to talk about. So if you leave to become a monk then that'll just devastate them."
"What are you so worried about hmm?" Hyunjin asked. "I don't think there's any doubt in their mind that you two are going to prom together. Your promposal is just a matter of formality."
"But it has to be perfect!" Chan insisted because it did. Because his partner deserved nothing less than perfection.
"Is your love for them wavering?" Hyunjin asked abruptly.
Chan recoiled, "What? No, of course not! I love them wholeheartedly."
"Do you lack giving then any of your attention or affection?"
He shook his head so fast it gave him a bit of vertigo, "I love them with all my heart and everything I am."
Hyunjin smiled, knowing that these were exactly the responses he expected, "Then, I think hyung, you love them as perfectly as you can, and there's nothing better you can give them."
"But what should I wear? Should I bring them flowers?" Chan worked himself into a panic again.
"Just be yourself. Do they like flowers? Then buy them flowers, or don't, they'll love it either way." Hyunjin made sure to look straight into Chan's eyes to make sure he got it this time. "I promise they'll love it either way."
Before Chan could say anything in reply, his phone rang. It was an out of breath sounding Jeongin. "Hi hyung! I have good news and bad news, which do you wanna hear first?"
"Oh god- tell me the bad. So I have something to live for afterwards."
Jeongin startled, staring down Chan, "Now what have we said about self talk like this?"
"I have many things to live for like myself and seven dongsaengs who love me." Chan recited tiredly.
"Right yes good, remember that. Now, the bad news."
"Hit me."
"In trying to lure the chinchillas out, they somehow managed to spill the entire bag. Now they DID get the chinchillas, buts apparently it's a very attractive wildlife treat and like, everything wants to eat it."
Jeongin hesitates. "Ummmm it luckily only attracts deer and herbivores so...... no rabid badger attacks?"
"Thats the good news?" Chan asks, running a hand through his hair.
"Yep, just trying to put a positive spin on things" jeongin replies with his signature cinnamon-roll smile. "Oh! Hows it going with the setup by the way?" He adds, suddenly excited.
"Weeell", Chan starts, searching for Hyunjin gaze for encouragement, "I decided I'll tell them tonight." Hyunjin nods and smiles proudly at him. "Oh god, I'll really do it. It will be simple and from my heart."
"Everything will be fine, hyung!", he could hear the happiness in Jeongin's voice, "I know you'll sway them away! But, uhh, you will bring them to the garden?"
"Yeah, that's the plan?" Chan furrowed his brows "Is everything okay?"
"Uh, on a scale of 0 to 10, how much they like disney kind of scenarios?
"Jeongin-ah, just how many wildlife the treats attracted?"
Chan started to weigh the possibilities. Where should he take them at night? A nice restaurant? Nah, he didn't make any reservations.
"You know what? I'm bringing them here." He decided with determination.
"TO YOUR BEDROOM?" Jeongin asked desperately.
"What? NO! To the teacup lounge. It's a nice place, we can work on the lighting to make it more romantic, play some nice tune... I just need to change and buy some flowers"
With a somewhat more specific plan formed and a quick phone call with Changbin in which the other was instructed to buy fairy lights and candles, Chan and Hyunjin headed off to pick out flowers. As the self-proclaimed flower-connoisseur, Hyunjin insisted on accompanying Chan to the flower shop.
Now, Hyunjin was walking around the shop, examining all the options and mumbling to himself. "Red roses are a classic, of course, although maybe a bit too much for a promposal. White or pink roses on the other hand... That could be an option."
Chan was drawn to another corner of the shop where the same flowers in various colours were displayed. He knew that to someone like Hyunjin the meaning of flowers had a lot of weight. But to him and his partner flowers were just something pretty to look at and his partner would surely appreciate a colourful bouquet more than one with carefully analyzed meaning.
"I think I really like these actually," Chan said, pointing at the wall of bulk flowers. He checked a tag and saw "Alstroemeria" and also "$1", and knew he could afford a whole lounge full of these- $36 dollar roses, not so much.
"You really do have good instincts hyung," Hyunjin smiled at him, "Alstroemerias are known to be the flower of devotion and enduring bonds."
Chan felt the tip of ears warming and the feeling of something not so unknown resting in his chest.
"I really want it to last..." He muttered to himself.
"You're doing the most important step: the first!" Hyunjin squeezed his shoulders, "Hey, I think carnations would go well with alstroemerias too, what do you think?"
"Sure! Let's head to the cashier". Chan mentally thanked his friend for supporting him, feeling the tension leave his shoulders.
Chan had never been particularly fond of trying on clothes. The whole process was exhausting and he never liked the way he looked anyways. But IN knew him well enough to not present anything too flashy. The shirt was a soft white cotton button down with a wide neck so he wouldn’t feel like he was suffocating. The pants were soft too, not too formal not too casual.
Of course there were accessories (rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets) but over all the outfit was simple, chic, and oh so boyfriend.
Once the outfit was finished, the reality of the situation began to set in. Chan was going to prompose to the most wonderful person in the world and he didn’t even have a speech. Or a way to play the song.
Han had just walked in when he heard Chan's panicked outburst. "Leave the song to me, hyung," he said. "You've got some versions of the same one picked out, right?"
Chan looked up. He practically had stars in his eyes, "You'll take care of it?"
"Of course. Just send me the ones you've picked out, and I'll choose which one to use." Han said, walking over and placing a hand on Chan's shoulder.
Chan let out a sigh of relief, "Thanks, Hannie. Alright, the only thing left to do is go get them. Wish me luck." Chan turned to leave the club room.
Whenever they had a date night either Chan or his partner would pick the other up at their place. He was unusually nervous as he paced the steps in front of their door, which, given the events of the day, was probably appropriate. He was wearing the nice outfit Jeongin had picked out and held the flowers hidden behind his back to have them be at least somewhat of a surprise. After a deep breath to calm down his racing heart, he finally rang the doorbell.
He heard hurried steps approach the door. Then it swung open and there in the doorway, wearing a nice blue button up and pair of black pants, stood Minho.
For a second, Chan's brain was stunned into silence. Something about his partner wearing Chan's club color made the promposal location change feel like destiny.
His boyfriend's double blink was the thing that made Chan remeber that he had yet to say anything.
"Hi, handsome. I, uh, brought these for you. I hope you like them." Chan could feel his face getting red but Lino just took the flowers with a glowing smile that made his nose scrunch up.
"Thank you Chan-ah. Were are we headed to this evening?"
Chan pulled out his phone to see the all clear messages from Han and Changbin. He took his love's hand and said
Chan let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, "This isn't going to work, Jeongin." Chan was panicking and stressing over trying to get this to be the absolute perfect promposal.
Jeongin sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, "Hyung, calm down. Everything will be fine." Jeongin tried to reassure Chan, but sadly, it was to no avail.
"No! It has to be perfect! I mean, not a single flaw. Perfect."
His hyung was one of the most talented and dedicated people he knew, but Jeongin was pretty sure his fatal flaw was also those same things. The talent got trapped in the perfectionism, and the dedication meant that he wouldn't stop no matter what unless he was happy with his project.
Thankfully, Jeongin was plenty used to being the outside party that made the hard decisions, and he was well versed at his job of pulling Channie Hyung out of his focus to see that the bigger picture was in fact incredible.
This time, that meant pulling back the whiteboard scribbled over with all the ideas for the promposal, and showing that Chan that almost all of them would guarantee joyful tears of agreement, and every single one would result in a yes anyway, because who wouldn't want to go to prom with his amazing hyung.
"Look," Jeongin said, trying to calm his hyung down from his panicked state, "I don't think it matters which of the ideas you decide to go with, you'll do great either way. But if it gives you peace of mind, we can go through all of them again. Let's start with this one." He pointed to the top left corner of the whiteboard.
It was the simplest of all the ideas Chan had come up with, which wasn't saying much since it was still rather complicated. It involved the recipient getting a hand written note each day from one of their friends. Each note had a letter on it and when put together they spelled out PROM. On day four, Chan would give the final note (letter M) with a bouquet of roses and their favourite candy and ask them to prom. Simple in theory but banking on several factors (the askee keeping all the notes or remembering the letters in order, the friends actually getting the note to the recipient, Chan not panicking at the last second)
As soon as I.N pointed to it, Chan shook his head violently.
"It's too easy, it needs to be something special."
Jeongin groaned and tilted his head back. "Hyuuuuung, you are making this way more difficult than it needs to be. Fine, what about this one?" He pointed to the next idea located more towards the center of the board.
This idea included Chan renting a private single-engine plane that would carry a banner with "PROM?" written across it. Chan would then descend from a ladder, holding a bouquet of the recipient's favorite flowers.
Chan cringed, "Erm....maybe not that one seems a bit over the top..."
Chan looked embarrassed, his ears turning bright red and a hand rubbing at his equally blushing neck.
"I thought maybe I could just keep it simple? Be straightforward and ask, " he said, unsure. "But where would I ask? And when? Would they even say yes?"
Jeongin took in how earnest he looked; at this moment, there was nothing Chan wanted more than getting this right.
"How about somewhere private, with a nice view?" He offered. "Somewhere where there's a romantic atmosphere, but you aren't worried about anybody watching you."
Jeogin knew he had been nervous about the promposal for weeks now. Every day someone or the other had giant fanfare events that could be heard across campus, and then he'd hear tittering about it for the rest of the day. Most of the whispers he'd hears assured him that the elaborateness of the promposal did in fact chart directly with how much you loved your partner. That's a lot of pressure to put on a poster!
"I think that's perfect." He finally said, and seeing the relieved smile on his hyung's face, Jeogin knew that he had finally come to the realization that Channie Hyung and his partner were all that mattered. They weren't the public proposal kind of people anyways.
"Okay, then! Now the important part- we need to find the perfect place for the two of you, and write your speech!"
“Oh gosh! A speech. Right. I can do that. I write all the time! I’ll just-“ it was obvious that Chan was working himself up again, and right when everything seemed to be going well.
“Woah, hey, let’s not focus on the speech right now. Let’s start by picking a location. How’s that sound?” Chan closed his eyes and took in a deep breath like he was trying to manually reset himself. When he opened his eyes, he nodded at his dongsaeng.
“Yeah okay. That sounds good, but” There was a pause like he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “does it need to be classically romantic or can it just be a place that’s special to us?”
Jeongin thought for a moment, "I think it would mean the most to them if it's somewhere that you both enjoy. Somewhere that has a special meaning to both of you."
Chan nodded, "Okay, then I have the perfect place. I'll ask them to accompany me to the place where we had our first date. I took them to a private garden that I found during my first few days here. To this day, I have yet to see anyone else there," a small genuine smile spread across his face as he looked down at his fingers. A light pink hue stretches from his neck to the tips of his ears.
Jeongin admired the kind of relationship his hyung had with his partner. Even though they were all still young, the two of them seemed to be very mature in how they approached their relationship and their care for each other went deeper than just a silly high school crush. The way Chan talked about his partner was the way Jeongin wanted to talk about his own partner one day as well. It was no wonder Chan was so insistant this promposal had to be perfect.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Jeongins mouth.
“It is truly a perfect place, hyung.” Jeongin nodded slowly his head, that faint smile still present on his face. Chan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Somehow, Jeongins approval meant to him more than he had expected.
Nodding faintly, Chan wondered, "I don't wan't to make a huge show or anything, but maybe it would be nice if we had some lights? And maybe our song playing in the background?"
Jeongin didn't know which garden Chan Hyung's promposal was set for, but a lot of the back gardens were old and sometimes decommissioned, which meant the pathways were unmaintained too. Of course his responsible elder was thinking for the practical safety of his partner. And well, music was the most important thing in Channie Hyung's life, second probably only to his partner.
"That sounds really nice, hyung," Jeongin said, smiling at him.
"Is that enough though? Maybe I should sing them the song instead of having it just play in the background?" Chan wondered aloud. "I could go back to our idea of hiring Jisung and Changbin as my backup dancers. Should I?" Chan paused in his spiraling for a moment. "No, they would hate that. That's not romantic at all. What am I thinking?"
“Calm down, hyung” Jeongin sighed and put his hands on Chan’s shoulders to ground him for a moment before starts spiraling again.
“As much as I love Hannie hyung and Binnie hyung, you are right. Them doing pirouettes in the background is far from something that fits a romantic scenery.” He chuckled softly at the sheer thought of those two doing a whole routine while Chan hyung would be seconds away from fainting from the stress of it all.
“Let’s start from the basics shall we?” Jeongin said. “You said no one is really visiting that garden. Is it even presentable now?” he asked.
Jeongin could see Channie hyung recentering himself, and his brow furrowed as he thought. "It's not what most people would see as presentable, but that's the charm for them. The garden in its authentic state as nature wishes for it to be."
"The path there though... we haven't been in a while either, so it's really been running wild."
If he just sent Chan Hyung out with a machete to clear the brush in his white tank under the hot sun, Jeongin is pretty sure that would be an appealing enough promposal for his partner.
"How about this, hyung: We go to the garden today to see if the path is currently usable and think about where you want to put up the lights. Then we come back and make our plans for the time and date and we can start drafting your speech. How does that sound?"
Chan just looked at him and nodded.
Jeongin grinned, relieved they were on a more concrete path again. "Great! Let's go then!"
They walked for a bit longer than Jeongin expected and with every few steps there greenery around them was becoming more and more unkept. He started to have a second thought if they’ll be able to tackle it without a proper equipment.
“We’re almost there I promise…” Chan said with an apologetic smile on his face.
Suddenly, they heard a crashing noise, and out of the trees behind them, burst Seungmin, panting and out of breath.
"Have you seen about, fifteen chinchillas tied to about, fifty balloons?"
Jeongin and Chan looked at each other, and then back to Seungmin.
"If I say no," Chan started, "How much trouble are you about to be in?"
"None with the school. Plenty with the Felix Promposal Organizational committee." Seungmin replied smartly.
They all shuddered simultaneously. That was a rough spot to be in, but Chan and Jeongin couldn't help, and advised Seungmin instead...
"If you tied balloons to them, shouldn't they be super visible?," Jeongin said, confused about how one could lose fifteen chinchillas and fifty balloons at once.
"Well, technically yes," Seungmin started with a sort of sheepish look on his face, "but not if the balloons are green and they ran away into the bushes." Jeongin was still wondering why the hell someone would bring chinchillas tied to green balloons to a promposal of all things, but bit back a sarcastic comment. Seungmin was clearly in enough distress already.
"Have you tried luring them out with treats," Chan suggested instead.
"Oh. That's a good idea, actually. Thanks Hyung." and with that Seungmin pulls out his phone mumbling something about texting Han since he was 'sure Han knew what chinchillas ate as he practically is one'.
With that miniature crisis somewhat solved, Chan and IN continued their walk to the garden. Suddenly something rose up out of one of the bushes. It was a very small Chinchilla with a very full balloon and it was starting to float away.
"SEUNGMIN! I think we found your chinchillas!" Chan was just about to lung at the flying rodent when...
He saw some MORE chinchillas just floating around near the path leading to the garden.
"No,this cannot be happening. Innie, those chinchillas arent ACTUALLY in the gardens...right?? Anywhere but there hahaha",Chan laughed nervously as he speedwalked towards the garden, with Jeongin following just behind.
"Please. Please. Please," Chan muttered as he finally made it to the gardens. Much to his horror, the Chinchillas were all over the gardens, and balloons littered the ground. "Oh come on..." he groaned.
Jeongin came up from behind him and saw everything, his eyes widening. "Okay, Hyung, don't freak out. It's going to be fine." Jeongin said, patting Chan on the shoulder. "We just have to...clean this up. Somehow."
IN surveyed the damage. There were popped balloons, strings, chinchillas and of course all the things that come with chinchillas (yuck). He stooped down to start picking up some debris, avoiding the chinchillas as much as possible.
"Look on the bright side, Hyung, we still have a few days before the promposal. We can call Felix and co to come collect their chinchillas and then pick up all the trash and cut back the bushes. Then all we need to do is find a hose or something to spray off the sidewalks and get some solarpowered string lights to hang in the trees." Chan nodded shakily, still looking a bit shellshocked.
"I will get this taken care of, Hyung." I.N gently guided Chan away, dragging his eyes from where they were still stuck on the rodent size wreckages. "Why don't we work on something else in the meantime."
"R-right, yeah." Chan sighed, finally letting I.N pull him out of the garden. "I need to decide which version of the song I want to do," He looked down the long path, and then back at the garden.
"You don't think... that was a sign or something? Not to go through with this?"
"What? Hyung, No! You should still do this! I know you're nervous, but just because Seungmin messed up doesn't mean you give up." Jeongin said. "How about you go work on your speech while I get Felix and co. to help clean this mess up."
Chan nodded and let out a heavy sigh as he made his way back to the club room to decide which version of the song he was going to use and how he was going to ask.
Chan sat at a table in the corner of the club room, switching back and forth between tabs on his laptop. It was not an easy decision to make. On the one hand, the slower, more melodic version of the song was perfect for the romantic setting he was looking for. On the other hand, his partner was a big fan of the dubstep remix that he had made a while ago, so that was more like their song than the slow version. There was also the silly acapella version he had recorded one time while he was bored and couldn't fall asleep at 11pm. He wasn't considering it seriously at first but after failing to decide between the other two, he thought he might as well cover all his bases. The acapella version would make his partner laugh, for sure.
With that out of the way, all that was left to work on was the speech. But what should he say? He wanted it to be deep and meaningful, fully expressing how much he loves them and wants to make cheesy memories with them but at the same time he didn’t want it to be too long and them get bored.
The songs run time was only 3-ish minutes so if he kept his speech a similar amount of time it wouldn’t be too bad.
Great short and sweet and deep and meaningful. Yeah. He could do that. He’s a song writer for goodness sakes! So why can’t he come up with any words?
He pushed back his laptop and drops his head down onto the table with a loud thud just in time for someone to walk in the club room.
Chan squints up to see who has witnessed his moment of weakness and shame when he's meant to be a shining beacon of leadership for Teacup club... And then lets his head drop again, because it's just Hyunjin, who has seen him in much worse states.
"I'm thinking of shaving my hair and becoming a monk, eternally loveless and without material goods." He mumbles into the table.
Hyunjin tsks at him, running his hands though Chan's hair and sighing. "I heard there's someone who would be very disappointed if you got rid of your quote unquote lucious locks." Chan's head shoots up again.
"Then again I suppose a monk doesn't need to know that there's been rumors about a certain someone going prom shopping..."
"Wait. Prom shopping?!" Chan said staring at Hyunjin, "Already?"He groaned and dropped his head once more. "How is it I haven't even asked them yet and they're already Prom shopping."
"Hyung, you're being a bit dramatic you know? And that saying a lot coming from me considering I'm the king of dramatics," Hyunjin sighed and sat next Chan. "Why haven't you asked yet? Honestly it's all they've been able to talk about. So if you leave to become a monk then that'll just devastate them."
"What are you so worried about hmm?" Hyunjin asked. "I don't think there's any doubt in their mind that you two are going to prom together. Your promposal is just a matter of formality."
"But it has to be perfect!" Chan insisted because it did. Because his partner deserved nothing less than perfection.
"Is your love for them wavering?" Hyunjin asked abruptly.
Chan recoiled, "What? No, of course not! I love them wholeheartedly."
"Do you lack giving then any of your attention or affection?"
He shook his head so fast it gave him a bit of vertigo, "I love them with all my heart and everything I am."
Hyunjin smiled, knowing that these were exactly the responses he expected, "Then, I think hyung, you love them as perfectly as you can, and there's nothing better you can give them."
"But what should I wear? Should I bring them flowers?" Chan worked himself into a panic again.
"Just be yourself. Do they like flowers? Then buy them flowers, or don't, they'll love it either way." Hyunjin made sure to look straight into Chan's eyes to make sure he got it this time. "I promise they'll love it either way."
Before Chan could say anything in reply, his phone rang. It was an out of breath sounding Jeongin. "Hi hyung! I have good news and bad news, which do you wanna hear first?"
"Oh god- tell me the bad. So I have something to live for afterwards."
Jeongin startled, staring down Chan, "Now what have we said about self talk like this?"
"I have many things to live for like myself and seven dongsaengs who love me." Chan recited tiredly.
"Right yes good, remember that. Now, the bad news."
"Hit me."
"In trying to lure the chinchillas out, they somehow managed to spill the entire bag. Now they DID get the chinchillas, buts apparently it's a very attractive wildlife treat and like, everything wants to eat it."
Jeongin hesitates. "Ummmm it luckily only attracts deer and herbivores so...... no rabid badger attacks?"
"Thats the good news?" Chan asks, running a hand through his hair.
"Yep, just trying to put a positive spin on things" jeongin replies with his signature cinnamon-roll smile. "Oh! Hows it going with the setup by the way?" He adds, suddenly excited.
"Weeell", Chan starts, searching for Hyunjin gaze for encouragement, "I decided I'll tell them tonight." Hyunjin nods and smiles proudly at him. "Oh god, I'll really do it. It will be simple and from my heart."
"Everything will be fine, hyung!", he could hear the happiness in Jeongin's voice, "I know you'll sway them away! But, uhh, you will bring them to the garden?"
"Yeah, that's the plan?" Chan furrowed his brows "Is everything okay?"
"Uh, on a scale of 0 to 10, how much they like disney kind of scenarios?
"Jeongin-ah, just how many wildlife the treats attracted?"
Chan started to weigh the possibilities. Where should he take them at night? A nice restaurant? Nah, he didn't make any reservations.
"You know what? I'm bringing them here." He decided with determination.
"TO YOUR BEDROOM?" Jeongin asked desperately.
"What? NO! To the teacup lounge. It's a nice place, we can work on the lighting to make it more romantic, play some nice tune... I just need to change and buy some flowers"
With a somewhat more specific plan formed and a quick phone call with Changbin in which the other was instructed to buy fairy lights and candles, Chan and Hyunjin headed off to pick out flowers. As the self-proclaimed flower-connoisseur, Hyunjin insisted on accompanying Chan to the flower shop.
Now, Hyunjin was walking around the shop, examining all the options and mumbling to himself. "Red roses are a classic, of course, although maybe a bit too much for a promposal. White or pink roses on the other hand... That could be an option."
Chan was drawn to another corner of the shop where the same flowers in various colours were displayed. He knew that to someone like Hyunjin the meaning of flowers had a lot of weight. But to him and his partner flowers were just something pretty to look at and his partner would surely appreciate a colourful bouquet more than one with carefully analyzed meaning.
"I think I really like these actually," Chan said, pointing at the wall of bulk flowers. He checked a tag and saw "Alstroemeria" and also "$1", and knew he could afford a whole lounge full of these- $36 dollar roses, not so much.
"You really do have good instincts hyung," Hyunjin smiled at him, "Alstroemerias are known to be the flower of devotion and enduring bonds."
Chan felt the tip of ears warming and the feeling of something not so unknown resting in his chest.
"I really want it to last..." He muttered to himself.
"You're doing the most important step: the first!" Hyunjin squeezed his shoulders, "Hey, I think carnations would go well with alstroemerias too, what do you think?"
"Sure! Let's head to the cashier". Chan mentally thanked his friend for supporting him, feeling the tension leave his shoulders.
Chan had never been particularly fond of trying on clothes. The whole process was exhausting and he never liked the way he looked anyways. But IN knew him well enough to not present anything too flashy. The shirt was a soft white cotton button down with a wide neck so he wouldn’t feel like he was suffocating. The pants were soft too, not too formal not too casual.
Of course there were accessories (rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets) but over all the outfit was simple, chic, and oh so boyfriend.
Once the outfit was finished, the reality of the situation began to set in. Chan was going to prompose to the most wonderful person in the world and he didn’t even have a speech. Or a way to play the song.
Chan let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, "This isn't going to work, Jeongin." Chan was panicking and stressing over trying to get this to be the absolute perfect promposal.
Jeongin sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, "Hyung, calm down. Everything will be fine." Jeongin tried to reassure Chan, but sadly, it was to no avail.
"No! It has to be perfect! I mean, not a single flaw. Perfect."
His hyung was one of the most talented and dedicated people he knew, but Jeongin was pretty sure his fatal flaw was also those same things. The talent got trapped in the perfectionism, and the dedication meant that he wouldn't stop no matter what unless he was happy with his project.
Thankfully, Jeongin was plenty used to being the outside party that made the hard decisions, and he was well versed at his job of pulling Channie Hyung out of his focus to see that the bigger picture was in fact incredible.
This time, that meant pulling back the whiteboard scribbled over with all the ideas for the promposal, and showing that Chan that almost all of them would guarantee joyful tears of agreement, and every single one would result in a yes anyway, because who wouldn't want to go to prom with his amazing hyung.
"Look," Jeongin said, trying to calm his hyung down from his panicked state, "I don't think it matters which of the ideas you decide to go with, you'll do great either way. But if it gives you peace of mind, we can go through all of them again. Let's start with this one." He pointed to the top left corner of the whiteboard.
It was the simplest of all the ideas Chan had come up with, which wasn't saying much since it was still rather complicated. It involved the recipient getting a hand written note each day from one of their friends. Each note had a letter on it and when put together they spelled out PROM. On day four, Chan would give the final note (letter M) with a bouquet of roses and their favourite candy and ask them to prom. Simple in theory but banking on several factors (the askee keeping all the notes or remembering the letters in order, the friends actually getting the note to the recipient, Chan not panicking at the last second)
As soon as I.N pointed to it, Chan shook his head violently.
"It's too easy, it needs to be something special."
Jeongin groaned and tilted his head back. "Hyuuuuung, you are making this way more difficult than it needs to be. Fine, what about this one?" He pointed to the next idea located more towards the center of the board.
This idea included Chan renting a private single-engine plane that would carry a banner with "PROM?" written across it. Chan would then descend from a ladder, holding a bouquet of the recipient's favorite flowers.
Chan cringed, "Erm....maybe not that one seems a bit over the top..."
Chan looked embarrassed, his ears turning bright red and a hand rubbing at his equally blushing neck.
"I thought maybe I could just keep it simple? Be straightforward and ask, " he said, unsure. "But where would I ask? And when? Would they even say yes?"
Jeongin took in how earnest he looked; at this moment, there was nothing Chan wanted more than getting this right.
"How about somewhere private, with a nice view?" He offered. "Somewhere where there's a romantic atmosphere, but you aren't worried about anybody watching you."
Jeogin knew he had been nervous about the promposal for weeks now. Every day someone or the other had giant fanfare events that could be heard across campus, and then he'd hear tittering about it for the rest of the day. Most of the whispers he'd hears assured him that the elaborateness of the promposal did in fact chart directly with how much you loved your partner. That's a lot of pressure to put on a poster!
"I think that's perfect." He finally said, and seeing the relieved smile on his hyung's face, Jeogin knew that he had finally come to the realization that Channie Hyung and his partner were all that mattered. They weren't the public proposal kind of people anyways.
"Okay, then! Now the important part- we need to find the perfect place for the two of you, and write your speech!"
“Oh gosh! A speech. Right. I can do that. I write all the time! I’ll just-“ it was obvious that Chan was working himself up again, and right when everything seemed to be going well.
“Woah, hey, let’s not focus on the speech right now. Let’s start by picking a location. How’s that sound?” Chan closed his eyes and took in a deep breath like he was trying to manually reset himself. When he opened his eyes, he nodded at his dongsaeng.
“Yeah okay. That sounds good, but” There was a pause like he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “does it need to be classically romantic or can it just be a place that’s special to us?”
Jeongin thought for a moment, "I think it would mean the most to them if it's somewhere that you both enjoy. Somewhere that has a special meaning to both of you."
Chan nodded, "Okay, then I have the perfect place. I'll ask them to accompany me to the place where we had our first date. I took them to a private garden that I found during my first few days here. To this day, I have yet to see anyone else there," a small genuine smile spread across his face as he looked down at his fingers. A light pink hue stretches from his neck to the tips of his ears.
Jeongin admired the kind of relationship his hyung had with his partner. Even though they were all still young, the two of them seemed to be very mature in how they approached their relationship and their care for each other went deeper than just a silly high school crush. The way Chan talked about his partner was the way Jeongin wanted to talk about his own partner one day as well. It was no wonder Chan was so insistant this promposal had to be perfect.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Jeongins mouth.
“It is truly a perfect place, hyung.” Jeongin nodded slowly his head, that faint smile still present on his face. Chan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Somehow, Jeongins approval meant to him more than he had expected.
Nodding faintly, Chan wondered, "I don't wan't to make a huge show or anything, but maybe it would be nice if we had some lights? And maybe our song playing in the background?"
Jeongin didn't know which garden Chan Hyung's promposal was set for, but a lot of the back gardens were old and sometimes decommissioned, which meant the pathways were unmaintained too. Of course his responsible elder was thinking for the practical safety of his partner. And well, music was the most important thing in Channie Hyung's life, second probably only to his partner.
"That sounds really nice, hyung," Jeongin said, smiling at him.
"Is that enough though? Maybe I should sing them the song instead of having it just play in the background?" Chan wondered aloud. "I could go back to our idea of hiring Jisung and Changbin as my backup dancers. Should I?" Chan paused in his spiraling for a moment. "No, they would hate that. That's not romantic at all. What am I thinking?"
“Calm down, hyung” Jeongin sighed and put his hands on Chan’s shoulders to ground him for a moment before starts spiraling again.
“As much as I love Hannie hyung and Binnie hyung, you are right. Them doing pirouettes in the background is far from something that fits a romantic scenery.” He chuckled softly at the sheer thought of those two doing a whole routine while Chan hyung would be seconds away from fainting from the stress of it all.
“Let’s start from the basics shall we?” Jeongin said. “You said no one is really visiting that garden. Is it even presentable now?” he asked.
Jeongin could see Channie hyung recentering himself, and his brow furrowed as he thought. "It's not what most people would see as presentable, but that's the charm for them. The garden in its authentic state as nature wishes for it to be."
"The path there though... we haven't been in a while either, so it's really been running wild."
If he just sent Chan Hyung out with a machete to clear the brush in his white tank under the hot sun, Jeongin is pretty sure that would be an appealing enough promposal for his partner.
"How about this, hyung: We go to the garden today to see if the path is currently usable and think about where you want to put up the lights. Then we come back and make our plans for the time and date and we can start drafting your speech. How does that sound?"
Chan just looked at him and nodded.
Jeongin grinned, relieved they were on a more concrete path again. "Great! Let's go then!"
They walked for a bit longer than Jeongin expected and with every few steps there greenery around them was becoming more and more unkept. He started to have a second thought if they’ll be able to tackle it without a proper equipment.
“We’re almost there I promise…” Chan said with an apologetic smile on his face.
Suddenly, they heard a crashing noise, and out of the trees behind them, burst Seungmin, panting and out of breath.
"Have you seen about, fifteen chinchillas tied to about, fifty balloons?"
Jeongin and Chan looked at each other, and then back to Seungmin.
"If I say no," Chan started, "How much trouble are you about to be in?"
"None with the school. Plenty with the Felix Promposal Organizational committee." Seungmin replied smartly.
They all shuddered simultaneously. That was a rough spot to be in, but Chan and Jeongin couldn't help, and advised Seungmin instead...
"If you tied balloons to them, shouldn't they be super visible?," Jeongin said, confused about how one could lose fifteen chinchillas and fifty balloons at once.
"Well, technically yes," Seungmin started with a sort of sheepish look on his face, "but not if the balloons are green and they ran away into the bushes." Jeongin was still wondering why the hell someone would bring chinchillas tied to green balloons to a promposal of all things, but bit back a sarcastic comment. Seungmin was clearly in enough distress already.
"Have you tried luring them out with treats," Chan suggested instead.
"Oh. That's a good idea, actually. Thanks Hyung." and with that Seungmin pulls out his phone mumbling something about texting Han since he was 'sure Han knew what chinchillas ate as he practically is one'.
With that miniature crisis somewhat solved, Chan and IN continued their walk to the garden. Suddenly something rose up out of one of the bushes. It was a very small Chinchilla with a very full balloon and it was starting to float away.
"SEUNGMIN! I think we found your chinchillas!" Chan was just about to lung at the flying rodent when...
He saw some MORE chinchillas just floating around near the path leading to the garden.
"No,this cannot be happening. Innie, those chinchillas arent ACTUALLY in the gardens...right?? Anywhere but there hahaha",Chan laughed nervously as he speedwalked towards the garden, with Jeongin following just behind.
"Please. Please. Please," Chan muttered as he finally made it to the gardens. Much to his horror, the Chinchillas were all over the gardens, and balloons littered the ground. "Oh come on..." he groaned.
Jeongin came up from behind him and saw everything, his eyes widening. "Okay, Hyung, don't freak out. It's going to be fine." Jeongin said, patting Chan on the shoulder. "We just have to...clean this up. Somehow."
IN surveyed the damage. There were popped balloons, strings, chinchillas and of course all the things that come with chinchillas (yuck). He stooped down to start picking up some debris, avoiding the chinchillas as much as possible.
"Look on the bright side, Hyung, we still have a few days before the promposal. We can call Felix and co to come collect their chinchillas and then pick up all the trash and cut back the bushes. Then all we need to do is find a hose or something to spray off the sidewalks and get some solarpowered string lights to hang in the trees." Chan nodded shakily, still looking a bit shellshocked.
"I will get this taken care of, Hyung." I.N gently guided Chan away, dragging his eyes from where they were still stuck on the rodent size wreckages. "Why don't we work on something else in the meantime."
"R-right, yeah." Chan sighed, finally letting I.N pull him out of the garden. "I need to decide which version of the song I want to do," He looked down the long path, and then back at the garden.
"You don't think... that was a sign or something? Not to go through with this?"
"What? Hyung, No! You should still do this! I know you're nervous, but just because Seungmin messed up doesn't mean you give up." Jeongin said. "How about you go work on your speech while I get Felix and co. to help clean this mess up."
Chan nodded and let out a heavy sigh as he made his way back to the club room to decide which version of the song he was going to use and how he was going to ask.
Chan sat at a table in the corner of the club room, switching back and forth between tabs on his laptop. It was not an easy decision to make. On the one hand, the slower, more melodic version of the song was perfect for the romantic setting he was looking for. On the other hand, his partner was a big fan of the dubstep remix that he had made a while ago, so that was more like their song than the slow version. There was also the silly acapella version he had recorded one time while he was bored and couldn't fall asleep at 11pm. He wasn't considering it seriously at first but after failing to decide between the other two, he thought he might as well cover all his bases. The acapella version would make his partner laugh, for sure.
With that out of the way, all that was left to work on was the speech. But what should he say? He wanted it to be deep and meaningful, fully expressing how much he loves them and wants to make cheesy memories with them but at the same time he didn’t want it to be too long and them get bored.
The songs run time was only 3-ish minutes so if he kept his speech a similar amount of time it wouldn’t be too bad.
Great short and sweet and deep and meaningful. Yeah. He could do that. He’s a song writer for goodness sakes! So why can’t he come up with any words?
He pushed back his laptop and drops his head down onto the table with a loud thud just in time for someone to walk in the club room.
Chan let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, "This isn't going to work, Jeongin." Chan was panicking and stressing over trying to get this to be the absolute perfect promposal.
Jeongin sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, "Hyung, calm down. Everything will be fine." Jeongin tried to reassure Chan, but sadly, it was to no avail.
"No! It has to be perfect! I mean, not a single flaw. Perfect."
His hyung was one of the most talented and dedicated people he knew, but Jeongin was pretty sure his fatal flaw was also those same things. The talent got trapped in the perfectionism, and the dedication meant that he wouldn't stop no matter what unless he was happy with his project.
Thankfully, Jeongin was plenty used to being the outside party that made the hard decisions, and he was well versed at his job of pulling Channie Hyung out of his focus to see that the bigger picture was in fact incredible.
This time, that meant pulling back the whiteboard scribbled over with all the ideas for the promposal, and showing that Chan that almost all of them would guarantee joyful tears of agreement, and every single one would result in a yes anyway, because who wouldn't want to go to prom with his amazing hyung.
"Look," Jeongin said, trying to calm his hyung down from his panicked state, "I don't think it matters which of the ideas you decide to go with, you'll do great either way. But if it gives you peace of mind, we can go through all of them again. Let's start with this one." He pointed to the top left corner of the whiteboard.
It was the simplest of all the ideas Chan had come up with, which wasn't saying much since it was still rather complicated. It involved the recipient getting a hand written note each day from one of their friends. Each note had a letter on it and when put together they spelled out PROM. On day four, Chan would give the final note (letter M) with a bouquet of roses and their favourite candy and ask them to prom. Simple in theory but banking on several factors (the askee keeping all the notes or remembering the letters in order, the friends actually getting the note to the recipient, Chan not panicking at the last second)
As soon as I.N pointed to it, Chan shook his head violently.
"It's too easy, it needs to be something special."
Jeongin groaned and tilted his head back. "Hyuuuuung, you are making this way more difficult than it needs to be. Fine, what about this one?" He pointed to the next idea located more towards the center of the board.
This idea included Chan renting a private single-engine plane that would carry a banner with "PROM?" written across it. Chan would then descend from a ladder, holding a bouquet of the recipient's favorite flowers.
Chan cringed, "Erm....maybe not that one seems a bit over the top..."
Chan looked embarrassed, his ears turning bright red and a hand rubbing at his equally blushing neck.
"I thought maybe I could just keep it simple? Be straightforward and ask, " he said, unsure. "But where would I ask? And when? Would they even say yes?"
Jeongin took in how earnest he looked; at this moment, there was nothing Chan wanted more than getting this right.
"How about somewhere private, with a nice view?" He offered. "Somewhere where there's a romantic atmosphere, but you aren't worried about anybody watching you."
Jeogin knew he had been nervous about the promposal for weeks now. Every day someone or the other had giant fanfare events that could be heard across campus, and then he'd hear tittering about it for the rest of the day. Most of the whispers he'd hears assured him that the elaborateness of the promposal did in fact chart directly with how much you loved your partner. That's a lot of pressure to put on a poster!
"I think that's perfect." He finally said, and seeing the relieved smile on his hyung's face, Jeogin knew that he had finally come to the realization that Channie Hyung and his partner were all that mattered. They weren't the public proposal kind of people anyways.
"Okay, then! Now the important part- we need to find the perfect place for the two of you, and write your speech!"
“Oh gosh! A speech. Right. I can do that. I write all the time! I’ll just-“ it was obvious that Chan was working himself up again, and right when everything seemed to be going well.
“Woah, hey, let’s not focus on the speech right now. Let’s start by picking a location. How’s that sound?” Chan closed his eyes and took in a deep breath like he was trying to manually reset himself. When he opened his eyes, he nodded at his dongsaeng.
“Yeah okay. That sounds good, but” There was a pause like he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “does it need to be classically romantic or can it just be a place that’s special to us?”
Jeongin thought for a moment, "I think it would mean the most to them if it's somewhere that you both enjoy. Somewhere that has a special meaning to both of you."
Chan nodded, "Okay, then I have the perfect place. I'll ask them to accompany me to the place where we had our first date. I took them to a private garden that I found during my first few days here. To this day, I have yet to see anyone else there," a small genuine smile spread across his face as he looked down at his fingers. A light pink hue stretches from his neck to the tips of his ears.
Jeongin admired the kind of relationship his hyung had with his partner. Even though they were all still young, the two of them seemed to be very mature in how they approached their relationship and their care for each other went deeper than just a silly high school crush. The way Chan talked about his partner was the way Jeongin wanted to talk about his own partner one day as well. It was no wonder Chan was so insistant this promposal had to be perfect.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Jeongins mouth.
“It is truly a perfect place, hyung.” Jeongin nodded slowly his head, that faint smile still present on his face. Chan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Somehow, Jeongins approval meant to him more than he had expected.
Nodding faintly, Chan wondered, "I don't wan't to make a huge show or anything, but maybe it would be nice if we had some lights? And maybe our song playing in the background?"
Jeongin didn't know which garden Chan Hyung's promposal was set for, but a lot of the back gardens were old and sometimes decommissioned, which meant the pathways were unmaintained too. Of course his responsible elder was thinking for the practical safety of his partner. And well, music was the most important thing in Channie Hyung's life, second probably only to his partner.
"That sounds really nice, hyung," Jeongin said, smiling at him.
"Is that enough though? Maybe I should sing them the song instead of having it just play in the background?" Chan wondered aloud. "I could go back to our idea of hiring Jisung and Changbin as my backup dancers. Should I?" Chan paused in his spiraling for a moment. "No, they would hate that. That's not romantic at all. What am I thinking?"
“Calm down, hyung” Jeongin sighed and put his hands on Chan’s shoulders to ground him for a moment before starts spiraling again.
“As much as I love Hannie hyung and Binnie hyung, you are right. Them doing pirouettes in the background is far from something that fits a romantic scenery.” He chuckled softly at the sheer thought of those two doing a whole routine while Chan hyung would be seconds away from fainting from the stress of it all.
“Let’s start from the basics shall we?” Jeongin said. “You said no one is really visiting that garden. Is it even presentable now?” he asked.
Jeongin could see Channie hyung recentering himself, and his brow furrowed as he thought. "It's not what most people would see as presentable, but that's the charm for them. The garden in its authentic state as nature wishes for it to be."
"The path there though... we haven't been in a while either, so it's really been running wild."
If he just sent Chan Hyung out with a machete to clear the brush in his white tank under the hot sun, Jeongin is pretty sure that would be an appealing enough promposal for his partner.
"How about this, hyung: We go to the garden today to see if the path is currently usable and think about where you want to put up the lights. Then we come back and make our plans for the time and date and we can start drafting your speech. How does that sound?"
Chan just looked at him and nodded.
Jeongin grinned, relieved they were on a more concrete path again. "Great! Let's go then!"
They walked for a bit longer than Jeongin expected and with every few steps there greenery around them was becoming more and more unkept. He started to have a second thought if they’ll be able to tackle it without a proper equipment.
“We’re almost there I promise…” Chan said with an apologetic smile on his face.
Suddenly, they heard a crashing noise, and out of the trees behind them, burst Seungmin, panting and out of breath.
"Have you seen about, fifteen chinchillas tied to about, fifty balloons?"
Jeongin and Chan looked at each other, and then back to Seungmin.
"If I say no," Chan started, "How much trouble are you about to be in?"
"None with the school. Plenty with the Felix Promposal Organizational committee." Seungmin replied smartly.
They all shuddered simultaneously. That was a rough spot to be in, but Chan and Jeongin couldn't help, and advised Seungmin instead...
"If you tied balloons to them, shouldn't they be super visible?," Jeongin said, confused about how one could lose fifteen chinchillas and fifty balloons at once.
"Well, technically yes," Seungmin started with a sort of sheepish look on his face, "but not if the balloons are green and they ran away into the bushes." Jeongin was still wondering why the hell someone would bring chinchillas tied to green balloons to a promposal of all things, but bit back a sarcastic comment. Seungmin was clearly in enough distress already.
"Have you tried luring them out with treats," Chan suggested instead.
"Oh. That's a good idea, actually. Thanks Hyung." and with that Seungmin pulls out his phone mumbling something about texting Han since he was 'sure Han knew what chinchillas ate as he practically is one'.
With that miniature crisis somewhat solved, Chan and IN continued their walk to the garden. Suddenly something rose up out of one of the bushes. It was a very small Chinchilla with a very full balloon and it was starting to float away.
"SEUNGMIN! I think we found your chinchillas!" Chan was just about to lung at the flying rodent when...
He saw some MORE chinchillas just floating around near the path leading to the garden.
"No,this cannot be happening. Innie, those chinchillas arent ACTUALLY in the gardens...right?? Anywhere but there hahaha",Chan laughed nervously as he speedwalked towards the garden, with Jeongin following just behind.
"Please. Please. Please," Chan muttered as he finally made it to the gardens. Much to his horror, the Chinchillas were all over the gardens, and balloons littered the ground. "Oh come on..." he groaned.
Jeongin came up from behind him and saw everything, his eyes widening. "Okay, Hyung, don't freak out. It's going to be fine." Jeongin said, patting Chan on the shoulder. "We just have to...clean this up. Somehow."
IN surveyed the damage. There were popped balloons, strings, chinchillas and of course all the things that come with chinchillas (yuck). He stooped down to start picking up some debris, avoiding the chinchillas as much as possible.
"Look on the bright side, Hyung, we still have a few days before the promposal. We can call Felix and co to come collect their chinchillas and then pick up all the trash and cut back the bushes. Then all we need to do is find a hose or something to spray off the sidewalks and get some solarpowered string lights to hang in the trees." Chan nodded shakily, still looking a bit shellshocked.
Chan let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, "This isn't going to work, Jeongin." Chan was panicking and stressing over trying to get this to be the absolute perfect promposal.
Jeongin sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, "Hyung, calm down. Everything will be fine." Jeongin tried to reassure Chan, but sadly, it was to no avail.
"No! It has to be perfect! I mean, not a single flaw. Perfect."
His hyung was one of the most talented and dedicated people he knew, but Jeongin was pretty sure his fatal flaw was also those same things. The talent got trapped in the perfectionism, and the dedication meant that he wouldn't stop no matter what unless he was happy with his project.
Thankfully, Jeongin was plenty used to being the outside party that made the hard decisions, and he was well versed at his job of pulling Channie Hyung out of his focus to see that the bigger picture was in fact incredible.
This time, that meant pulling back the whiteboard scribbled over with all the ideas for the promposal, and showing that Chan that almost all of them would guarantee joyful tears of agreement, and every single one would result in a yes anyway, because who wouldn't want to go to prom with his amazing hyung.
"Look," Jeongin said, trying to calm his hyung down from his panicked state, "I don't think it matters which of the ideas you decide to go with, you'll do great either way. But if it gives you peace of mind, we can go through all of them again. Let's start with this one." He pointed to the top left corner of the whiteboard.
It was the simplest of all the ideas Chan had come up with, which wasn't saying much since it was still rather complicated. It involved the recipient getting a hand written note each day from one of their friends. Each note had a letter on it and when put together they spelled out PROM. On day four, Chan would give the final note (letter M) with a bouquet of roses and their favourite candy and ask them to prom. Simple in theory but banking on several factors (the askee keeping all the notes or remembering the letters in order, the friends actually getting the note to the recipient, Chan not panicking at the last second)
As soon as I.N pointed to it, Chan shook his head violently.
"It's too easy, it needs to be something special."
Jeongin groaned and tilted his head back. "Hyuuuuung, you are making this way more difficult than it needs to be. Fine, what about this one?" He pointed to the next idea located more towards the center of the board.
This idea included Chan renting a private single-engine plane that would carry a banner with "PROM?" written across it. Chan would then descend from a ladder, holding a bouquet of the recipient's favorite flowers.
Chan cringed, "Erm....maybe not that one seems a bit over the top..."
Chan looked embarrassed, his ears turning bright red and a hand rubbing at his equally blushing neck.
"I thought maybe I could just keep it simple? Be straightforward and ask, " he said, unsure. "But where would I ask? And when? Would they even say yes?"
Jeongin took in how earnest he looked; at this moment, there was nothing Chan wanted more than getting this right.
"How about somewhere private, with a nice view?" He offered. "Somewhere where there's a romantic atmosphere, but you aren't worried about anybody watching you."
Jeogin knew he had been nervous about the promposal for weeks now. Every day someone or the other had giant fanfare events that could be heard across campus, and then he'd hear tittering about it for the rest of the day. Most of the whispers he'd hears assured him that the elaborateness of the promposal did in fact chart directly with how much you loved your partner. That's a lot of pressure to put on a poster!
"I think that's perfect." He finally said, and seeing the relieved smile on his hyung's face, Jeogin knew that he had finally come to the realization that Channie Hyung and his partner were all that mattered. They weren't the public proposal kind of people anyways.
"Okay, then! Now the important part- we need to find the perfect place for the two of you, and write your speech!"
“Oh gosh! A speech. Right. I can do that. I write all the time! I’ll just-“ it was obvious that Chan was working himself up again, and right when everything seemed to be going well.
“Woah, hey, let’s not focus on the speech right now. Let’s start by picking a location. How’s that sound?” Chan closed his eyes and took in a deep breath like he was trying to manually reset himself. When he opened his eyes, he nodded at his dongsaeng.
“Yeah okay. That sounds good, but” There was a pause like he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “does it need to be classically romantic or can it just be a place that’s special to us?”
Jeongin thought for a moment, "I think it would mean the most to them if it's somewhere that you both enjoy. Somewhere that has a special meaning to both of you."
Chan nodded, "Okay, then I have the perfect place. I'll ask them to accompany me to the place where we had our first date. I took them to a private garden that I found during my first few days here. To this day, I have yet to see anyone else there," a small genuine smile spread across his face as he looked down at his fingers. A light pink hue stretches from his neck to the tips of his ears.
Jeongin admired the kind of relationship his hyung had with his partner. Even though they were all still young, the two of them seemed to be very mature in how they approached their relationship and their care for each other went deeper than just a silly high school crush. The way Chan talked about his partner was the way Jeongin wanted to talk about his own partner one day as well. It was no wonder Chan was so insistant this promposal had to be perfect.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Jeongins mouth.
“It is truly a perfect place, hyung.” Jeongin nodded slowly his head, that faint smile still present on his face. Chan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Somehow, Jeongins approval meant to him more than he had expected.
Nodding faintly, Chan wondered, "I don't wan't to make a huge show or anything, but maybe it would be nice if we had some lights? And maybe our song playing in the background?"
Jeongin didn't know which garden Chan Hyung's promposal was set for, but a lot of the back gardens were old and sometimes decommissioned, which meant the pathways were unmaintained too. Of course his responsible elder was thinking for the practical safety of his partner. And well, music was the most important thing in Channie Hyung's life, second probably only to his partner.
"That sounds really nice, hyung," Jeongin said, smiling at him.
"Is that enough though? Maybe I should sing them the song instead of having it just play in the background?" Chan wondered aloud. "I could go back to our idea of hiring Jisung and Changbin as my backup dancers. Should I?" Chan paused in his spiraling for a moment. "No, they would hate that. That's not romantic at all. What am I thinking?"
“Calm down, hyung” Jeongin sighed and put his hands on Chan’s shoulders to ground him for a moment before starts spiraling again.
“As much as I love Hannie hyung and Binnie hyung, you are right. Them doing pirouettes in the background is far from something that fits a romantic scenery.” He chuckled softly at the sheer thought of those two doing a whole routine while Chan hyung would be seconds away from fainting from the stress of it all.
“Let’s start from the basics shall we?” Jeongin said. “You said no one is really visiting that garden. Is it even presentable now?” he asked.
Jeongin could see Channie hyung recentering himself, and his brow furrowed as he thought. "It's not what most people would see as presentable, but that's the charm for them. The garden in its authentic state as nature wishes for it to be."
"The path there though... we haven't been in a while either, so it's really been running wild."
If he just sent Chan Hyung out with a machete to clear the brush in his white tank under the hot sun, Jeongin is pretty sure that would be an appealing enough promposal for his partner.
"How about this, hyung: We go to the garden today to see if the path is currently usable and think about where you want to put up the lights. Then we come back and make our plans for the time and date and we can start drafting your speech. How does that sound?"
Chan just looked at him and nodded.
Jeongin grinned, relieved they were on a more concrete path again. "Great! Let's go then!"
They walked for a bit longer than Jeongin expected and with every few steps there greenery around them was becoming more and more unkept. He started to have a second thought if they’ll be able to tackle it without a proper equipment.
“We’re almost there I promise…” Chan said with an apologetic smile on his face.
Suddenly, they heard a crashing noise, and out of the trees behind them, burst Seungmin, panting and out of breath.
"Have you seen about, fifteen chinchillas tied to about, fifty balloons?"
Jeongin and Chan looked at each other, and then back to Seungmin.
"If I say no," Chan started, "How much trouble are you about to be in?"
"None with the school. Plenty with the Felix Promposal Organizational committee." Seungmin replied smartly.
They all shuddered simultaneously. That was a rough spot to be in, but Chan and Jeongin couldn't help, and advised Seungmin instead...
"If you tied balloons to them, shouldn't they be super visible?," Jeongin said, confused about how one could lose fifteen chinchillas and fifty balloons at once.
"Well, technically yes," Seungmin started with a sort of sheepish look on his face, "but not if the balloons are green and they ran away into the bushes." Jeongin was still wondering why the hell someone would bring chinchillas tied to green balloons to a promposal of all things, but bit back a sarcastic comment. Seungmin was clearly in enough distress already.
"Have you tried luring them out with treats," Chan suggested instead.
"Oh. That's a good idea, actually. Thanks Hyung." and with that Seungmin pulls out his phone mumbling something about texting Han since he was 'sure Han knew what chinchillas ate as he practically is one'.
With that miniature crisis somewhat solved, Chan and IN continued their walk to the garden. Suddenly something rose up out of one of the bushes. It was a very small Chinchilla with a very full balloon and it was starting to float away.
"SEUNGMIN! I think we found your chinchillas!" Chan was just about to lung at the flying rodent when...
Chan let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, "This isn't going to work, Jeongin." Chan was panicking and stressing over trying to get this to be the absolute perfect promposal.
Jeongin sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, "Hyung, calm down. Everything will be fine." Jeongin tried to reassure Chan, but sadly, it was to no avail.
"No! It has to be perfect! I mean, not a single flaw. Perfect."
His hyung was one of the most talented and dedicated people he knew, but Jeongin was pretty sure his fatal flaw was also those same things. The talent got trapped in the perfectionism, and the dedication meant that he wouldn't stop no matter what unless he was happy with his project.
Thankfully, Jeongin was plenty used to being the outside party that made the hard decisions, and he was well versed at his job of pulling Channie Hyung out of his focus to see that the bigger picture was in fact incredible.
This time, that meant pulling back the whiteboard scribbled over with all the ideas for the promposal, and showing that Chan that almost all of them would guarantee joyful tears of agreement, and every single one would result in a yes anyway, because who wouldn't want to go to prom with his amazing hyung.
"Look," Jeongin said, trying to calm his hyung down from his panicked state, "I don't think it matters which of the ideas you decide to go with, you'll do great either way. But if it gives you peace of mind, we can go through all of them again. Let's start with this one." He pointed to the top left corner of the whiteboard.
It was the simplest of all the ideas Chan had come up with, which wasn't saying much since it was still rather complicated. It involved the recipient getting a hand written note each day from one of their friends. Each note had a letter on it and when put together they spelled out PROM. On day four, Chan would give the final note (letter M) with a bouquet of roses and their favourite candy and ask them to prom. Simple in theory but banking on several factors (the askee keeping all the notes or remembering the letters in order, the friends actually getting the note to the recipient, Chan not panicking at the last second)
As soon as I.N pointed to it, Chan shook his head violently.
"It's too easy, it needs to be something special."
Jeongin groaned and tilted his head back. "Hyuuuuung, you are making this way more difficult than it needs to be. Fine, what about this one?" He pointed to the next idea located more towards the center of the board.
This idea included Chan renting a private single-engine plane that would carry a banner with "PROM?" written across it. Chan would then descend from a ladder, holding a bouquet of the recipient's favorite flowers.
Chan cringed, "Erm....maybe not that one seems a bit over the top..."
Chan looked embarrassed, his ears turning bright red and a hand rubbing at his equally blushing neck.
"I thought maybe I could just keep it simple? Be straightforward and ask, " he said, unsure. "But where would I ask? And when? Would they even say yes?"
Jeongin took in how earnest he looked; at this moment, there was nothing Chan wanted more than getting this right.
"How about somewhere private, with a nice view?" He offered. "Somewhere where there's a romantic atmosphere, but you aren't worried about anybody watching you."
Jeogin knew he had been nervous about the promposal for weeks now. Every day someone or the other had giant fanfare events that could be heard across campus, and then he'd hear tittering about it for the rest of the day. Most of the whispers he'd hears assured him that the elaborateness of the promposal did in fact chart directly with how much you loved your partner. That's a lot of pressure to put on a poster!
"I think that's perfect." He finally said, and seeing the relieved smile on his hyung's face, Jeogin knew that he had finally come to the realization that Channie Hyung and his partner were all that mattered. They weren't the public proposal kind of people anyways.
"Okay, then! Now the important part- we need to find the perfect place for the two of you, and write your speech!"
“Oh gosh! A speech. Right. I can do that. I write all the time! I’ll just-“ it was obvious that Chan was working himself up again, and right when everything seemed to be going well.
“Woah, hey, let’s not focus on the speech right now. Let’s start by picking a location. How’s that sound?” Chan closed his eyes and took in a deep breath like he was trying to manually reset himself. When he opened his eyes, he nodded at his dongsaeng.
“Yeah okay. That sounds good, but” There was a pause like he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “does it need to be classically romantic or can it just be a place that’s special to us?”
Chan let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, "This isn't going to work, Jeongin." Chan was panicking and stressing over trying to get this to be the absolute perfect promposal.
Jeongin sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, "Hyung, calm down. Everything will be fine." Jeongin tried to reassure Chan, but sadly, it was to no avail.
"No! It has to be perfect! I mean, not a single flaw. Perfect."
His hyung was one of the most talented and dedicated people he knew, but Jeongin was pretty sure his fatal flaw was also those same things. The talent got trapped in the perfectionism, and the dedication meant that he wouldn't stop no matter what unless he was happy with his project.
Thankfully, Jeongin was plenty used to being the outside party that made the hard decisions, and he was well versed at his job of pulling Channie Hyung out of his focus to see that the bigger picture was in fact incredible.
This time, that meant pulling back the whiteboard scribbled over with all the ideas for the promposal, and showing that Chan that almost all of them would guarantee joyful tears of agreement, and every single one would result in a yes anyway, because who wouldn't want to go to prom with his amazing hyung.
"Look," Jeongin said, trying to calm his hyung down from his panicked state, "I don't think it matters which of the ideas you decide to go with, you'll do great either way. But if it gives you peace of mind, we can go through all of them again. Let's start with this one." He pointed to the top left corner of the whiteboard.
It was the simplest of all the ideas Chan had come up with, which wasn't saying much since it was still rather complicated. It involved the recipient getting a hand written note each day from one of their friends. Each note had a letter on it and when put together they spelled out PROM. On day four, Chan would give the final note (letter M) with a bouquet of roses and their favourite candy and ask them to prom. Simple in theory but banking on several factors (the askee keeping all the notes or remembering the letters in order, the friends actually getting the note to the recipient, Chan not panicking at the last second)
As soon as I.N pointed to it, Chan shook his head violently.
"It's too easy, it needs to be something special."
did aroace as the next flag specifically for @chanfayrie 🧡💛🤍🩵💙 happy pride bestie!! :)
Happy Pride Month! Stay safe, have fun, and remember that you’re always welcomed here :)
I do not own or take credit for any of the images used. Reblogs are greatly appreciated but please do not repost or edit my collages on other platforms! All of my collages are made on Pinterest (@/cosmicluvrrr)
♬⋆.˚ Pairing: Minho x Jisung (Minsung)
♬⋆.˚ Genre: Punk-flavoured enemies to lovers | eventual smut
♬⋆.˚ Chapter Warnings: Heavy cussing throughout. A bit of angst. LOTS OF MUSIC TALK. I feel like I should also warn that it's all very British.
♬⋆.˚ @vinylovervirtue is the RP acct that runs in tandem with this fic
♬⋆.˚ Authors Note: thank you ENDLESSLY to the Minsung Courtiers, for the encouragement with this fic. I genuinely don't think this would have ever left the "brain fart files" if it wasn't for you guys. Thank you for your crash outs, your fic fuel flavoured photos and for your asks. I love you all stupid amounts.
♬⋆.˚ Word count: 5600
⏮ Welcome to Safety Scars HQ ♬⋆.˚ Track 2 ⏭
Track 1: Born to be ODDinary
It is a universal truth, that people are dicks.
Jisung had been told this philosophy seven years ago by his best friend Felix, and, well, it was as true then as it is now.
People, specifically the prick wearing the counterfeit Nirvana t-shirt standing in front of him, are dicks.
The man wags his finger like a magic wand, jabbing with the fervour of someone who believes indignation is a spell powerful enough to make Jisung crumble beneath the weight of his consumer outrage. Yet another millennial, clearly still grieving the Hogwarts letter that never came, now conjuring so-called entitlement from thin air.
“Young man,” he says, again, because once apparently wasn’t enough, “this is outrageous. I’ve been shopping here for years and never had to deal with such ridiculous rules.”
Jisung blinks, deliberately slowly. “Right. And I’ve been breathing air for nineteen years, doesn’t mean I get to tell the atmosphere what to do.”
The man sputters. Actually sputters. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused,” Jisung says, his patience wearing thin. He leans a hand against the counter. “Our policy’s on the sign. And also on the receipt. And also on the website. And also, if you tilt your head to the left and squint real hard, in the air itself.” He gestures vaguely upward. “See it? Floating between the fluorescent lights and your oversized sense of entitlement?”
“I paid forty-five quid for this, and now you’re telling me I can’t return it?”
Jisung leans forward, elbows on the counter, and gives him another long, slow blink. “No. I’m telling you you can return it. You just won’t get a full refund because it’s scratched to hell.”
“I only played it once.”
“Once, twice, or ten times—you could’ve used it as a dinner plate for all I know. The point is, this”—he taps the edge of the record sleeve—“is no longer in a good playable condition. And our return policy doesn’t cover... user-inflicted vinyl violence.”
The man gasps like Jisung just accused him of clubbing a baby seal.
“I handled it carefully!” he insists, incessant, indignant and insufferable.
Jisung raises an eyebrow and flips open the sleeve with the delicacy of a surgeon. He makes a show of inspecting it, for the second time. The record inside looks like it had been used as a frisbee with an over excited labrador in Greenwich Park. He holds it up, turns it toward the light, and makes a soft, sympathetic noise. “Did you handle it with a fork?”
Fake Nirvana Dude opens his mouth, probably to launch a counterattack with the full weight of his LinkedIn profile, but doesn't get the chance.
“Hey there!” Felix appears out of nowhere, all sunshine grin and weaponised customer service voice. “Everything okay here?”
FND blinks at him.
The Felix Effect™, turned up to full volume for the customers pleasure… or pain. Jisung watches it hit with the force of a dropped amp.
Felix is what you'd get if Tinkerbell learned to snarl and shacked up with Yungblud—half-up dirty blonde hair, part braided, metal glinting from every piercing: ears, snake bites, attitude.
He’s in a red and black tartan skirt and a sleeveless black biker jacket, the leather worn and weathered, shoulders weighed down with hanging chains and safety pins like war medals. A small pansexual pride badge sits pinned above his heart, unapologetic and gleaming.
Black eyeliner wings out from his eyes, so sharp it could slit throats, and he’s got that look—like he could kiss you or kick you, depending on the beat of the next song. The perfect personification of punk rock, swaggering across the floor like he invented anarchy and dressed for the funeral.
If he wasn’t wearing his platform biker boots, he’d be almost one head shorter than Jisung.
But it’s his voice that seals it—that slow, subterranean bass that hums more than speaks, the kind you feel in your chest before your brain can catch up.
Jisung watches FND’s face twist like his ears are scrambling to process the frequency, and he can’t help the smirk tugging at his own mouth.
“Are you the manager?” FND demands the second Felix steps up to the counter. “I want to complain against this—” he waves a hand at Jisung as though he’s trying to determine whether he’s even human. Jisung grins at him, waiting. “this—boy!”
Jisung is disappointed on behalf of FND. If you’re gonna be a dick, at least commit to the bit.
Felix pulls a sad face, bottom lip pouting, “No. Sir, I am not the manager, but perhaps I can assist you?”
Jisung palms the vinyl that FND had brought into the shop and slides it over to Felix. “He would like a refund.”
Felix carefully lifts the record, then frowns at it. “Sir,” he says, with the weary patience of someone spiritually overqualified for this nonsense. “We cannot give you a full refund for this. It’s been badly damaged. Best I can offer you would be…” he hums thoughtfully, considering. “Ten percent of the original cost and hope someone who’s a fan of the band would purchase it to use as an art and craft piece.”
Jisung, vindicated, grins at FND.
“That is how it was sold to me!” FND bellows, all red cheeks and bluster.
“That’s funny,” Jisung says, his patience on the floor now. “Wasn’t what you said five minutes ago.”
“Yes it was!”
Jisung inhales, ready to launch a scathing ‘No it fucking wasn’t’ when Felix says with perfect calmness, “Not a problem—I’ll just review our CCTV and clear this up,” he grins, all Hell’s Angel charm, pointing overhead at the dummy camera staring blindly down at them.
FND blinks up at it, then at Jisung as he makes a noise like a broken hoover. He snatches the record from Felix’s ringed hands with the grace of a toddler mid-tantrum in Tesco.
“I’m never shopping here again!” he declares, as though this were a threat and not a blessing.
“Okay!” Felix calls after him, cheerfully. “Have a nice day!”
“Have the day you deserve!” Jisung chimes in sickly sweet.
Felix elbows him playfully.
With all the grace of someone who believes ‘Hardcore’ is a yoga class, FND sweeps his arm deliberately through a display stand, sending a hundred tiny vinyl band badges, patches, and stickers clattering to the floor in the world’s saddest percussion solo.
The door gives a cheerful ding-dong! as he storms out.
He tries to slam it for good measure, but the soft closer ruins the drama, dragging the door shut with an apologetic shhhh-thunk.
Jisung watches the door for a beat, then sighs. “Somewhere, Kurt Cobain is spinning in his grave fast enough to power a small village in Yorkshire.” He pushes off the counter, muttering, “I’ll get the badges—”
But Felix is already moving, and crouched beside the display, carefully scooping up a tiny Bowie pin. His tartan skirt kissing his knees.
“Go take a break,” Felix says without looking up. “Find something inanimate to kick. That usually makes you feel better.”
“I swear to God,” Jisung grumbles, dragging a hand down his face, “if one more Camden wanker in a Nirvana tee going through a midlife crisis tries to gaslight me about scratches, I’m gonna eat a drumstick. Raw.”
“Don’t diss Camden. You know I like that area.” Felix grins as he scoops fallen badges into the folds of his tartan skirt like it's a makeshift kangaroo pouch. “But I’ll find you a drumstick. Chicken or percussion?”
Jisung chuckles a little at that.
Felix looks up at him, his smile falling for a moment. He gently squeezes Jisung’s calf. “You okay?”
Jisung inhales, twisting his silver thumb ring. “Not really,” he admits only because it’s Felix asking and it’s hard to lie to him. “But I’m okay enough not to punch a fake Nirvana fan, so I guess that’s growth.”
Felix beams up at him. All sunshine and glitter. “Proud of you. You didn’t even mention the shirt was counterfeit.”
“Because I’m, like, so mature now.”
“Mature and petty. Just the way I like you.”
♪ ༘⋆
Outside, the air is cool and crisp, biting at his skin like it’s trying to remind him he’s still alive. Jisung drags in a lungful, lets it out slow. The city smells like wet pavement, petrol fumes, and the sugary ghost of fresh buns from Greggs up the road. A scooter backfires. Somewhere, a siren wails, reminding him that someone is having a far worse day than he is. He stares up at the sky. Solid grey, as indifferent as the Northern line at rush hour.
“Fucking cunt,” he mutters.
Jisung gives a cursory glance before crossing the road, only to get honked at by a black cab overtaking a double-decker. He flips it off. Cabs are allowed to use the bus lane—what the fuck's his deal? Is it officially wanker Wednesday? The cabbie shouts back at him, but Jisung is already moving, dodging a Deliveroo cyclist with far too much energy for eleven a.m.
He makes it to the other side, probably with the same relief the proverbial chicken felt.
His mustard plaid overshirt flies open behind him like a warning sign, Converse slapping pavement with every step, one of them held together with what might be hope and a safety pin. His black beanie pulled low to tame his curling hair, hoodie layered under a faded band tee.
Jisung waves a half-hearted 'morning' at the kiosk worker, who returns it with a knowing nod—this day already sucks for both of them—before pushing open the door of his second favourite haven.
The bell above The Book Nook and Brew dings softly. The sound is almost Pavlovian—his rage already starting to melt with the smell of old pages and fresh espresso.
Warm light pools over mismatched armchairs, worn with stories, and tall shelves stacked with dog-eared books, patiently waiting. There are lamps here and there, everything soft and cozy. It feels like a dozen sitting rooms smooshed together, that perfect mix of personal space and great service.
The farthest wall, drawn with years of sharpies, is a wall of quotes, where readers can add their favourite lines.
Without thinking, Jisung’s eyes flick to the one he scrawled there two years ago, half-faded now under newer layers—“Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.”
~ Bukowski.
He hadn’t read it for the poetry or the heartbreak, or even the punkish bite of it. He’d read it because Seungmin had lobbed the thing at his head one day like a brick.
“If you can read, which is debatable,” Seungmin had said, nose buried in something posh and quiet. “Try this. Maybe it’ll humble you.”
And Jisung—out of sheer bloody-minded determination to prove him wrong—had flopped onto the counter right there and started reading out loud. Dramatic voice and all. Hamming it up for the customers who looked at him with a mixture of amusement and displeasure.
Two pages in he stopped reading aloud. It had taken, like, twenty pages before he stopped pretending it was awful. Forty before he stopped snarking entirely.
By the end, he'd been curled on a beanbag by the poetry shelf, sleeves over his hands, the rest of the shop forgotten.
He’d added the quote to the wall the next day. Tiny letters, almost hidden between a Shakespeare sonnet and a Terry Pratchett pun.
And now, every time he walks in, his eyes still find it first.
And every time, right after that—he finds Seungmin.
Seungmin looks like a librarian in an apron—young, but with that quiet maturity only good parenting can be blamed for. His apron’s slightly wrinkled from hours behind the counter, but his posture is effortlessly straight, like he’s been standing in this space for years, watching the world spin from behind the espresso machine.
He’s wearing a soft white cardigan that looks like it was loved by a granddad once upon a time, but Jisung just knows it’s his favourite.
“Who pissed you off this time?” Seungmin asks, already reaching for a cup.
“Some twat in a fake Nirvana shirt tried to return a record he’d clearly wrestled a cat with.” He drops onto a stool, drumming his fingers against the wood.
Seungmin snorts. “Did you let him live?”
“Yes. He actually did the world a favour. It was the kind of record that mere ownership of would’ve gotten me thrown out of any self-respecting venue.”
He drapes himself over the counter with a melodramatic sigh, fingers idly tapping a beat only he seems to hear.
“You can’t just wear the shirt and not feel the noise. Punk’s not fashion—it’s memory. It’s blood in the cracks of a basement floor.”
Seungmin’s eyebrow lifts, but before he can comment on Jisung being lyrically morose again, Jisung’s already moved on.
“Anyway. Felix intervened before I could thump him just to feel better. I think he’s officially earned sainthood.”
Seungmin starts scooping ice into a cup like he’s preparing holy water. “So—regular iced Americano, two shots of vengeance?”
“Make it three.”
He sits up when Seungmin thwacks him with a cloth.
“Minnie,” a voice calls from the far end. “Another espresso for table four.”
It’s practically impossible to stay mad around Jeongin. The soft ginger hair, the dimples, those annoyingly earnest eyes—he radiates a ‘you’re-happy-just-looking-at-me’ energy. It’s like a fucking superpower. Especially when he laughs.
A grin tugs at the corners of Jisung's mouth as Jeongin appears around the corner, balancing a tray of used mugs.
“Oh dear,” Jeongin says, deadpan. “Who did what, when, and why?”
Jisung’s a little peeved that his face is apparently that easy to read.
“Fake Nirvana. Scratched-up record,” Seungmin summarises. “No alibis required this time round.” He adds, to Jeongin’s disappointment. “You taking something for Lix? Or is this a ‘woe is me and my ego’ visit?”
“Firstly, fuck you, I'm a delight,” Jisung says. “Secondly, gimme one of those yellow cake thingies he likes, since he stopped me from committing customericide.”
Across the room someone covers up a chuckle with a cough.
Jeongin’s already at the display, tongs snapping like castanets. He lets out a low giggle—warm, stupidly contagious—the kind that makes you smile before you realise it’s happening. If serotonin had a sound, it would be his laugh.
“How’s my tab looking?” Jisung asks, with the air of a man who already knows the answer.
“Red,” Seungmin says. “Woefully red.”
“Don't at Swift in my direction.”
Seungmin sighs. “Shall we just pretend that you didn’t make the reference all by yourself?”
Jisung is absolutely going to pretend. “I will pay you back. Next cheque.” He draws an X over his chest. “Scout’s honour.”
Jeongin nods toward Jisung’s crossed fingers behind his back with a grin that crinkles his eyes.
Seungmin, knowing him all too well, arches an eyebrow and slides the drink across the counter. “You got kicked out of the Scouts, because you lacked honour. The whole thing with the frog–”
“The frog was unharmed.”
“The leader broke his arm!”
“I didn’t know he had a fear of frogs.”
Jisung stabs the cup cover with a straw like it’s personally offended him, then all but snatches the paper bag from Jeongin as he rises to his feet.
“These are on the house though, right?” he asks as he heads back to the door. “Thanks sweetie! Love you! Bye!”
Jeongin’s laugh follows him out, bright and bubbling like he can’t help it. “Pay your tab, you gremlin!”
♪ ༘⋆
Late afternoon spills into early evening, golden light pooling across the counter and stretching long shadows through the rows of wax. The shop has quieted, bringing with it, the kind of silence that hums beneath your skin.
From the back, Felix is humming something vaguely hostile while he clatters through closing duties. Probably Slipknot, something with blast beats and spite.
Jisung leans on the counter, chin on his palm as his finger skims the delivery list for next week’s second-hand drop. The printed names blur. The usual suspects: Thriller, Rumours, Purple Rain, Born in the U.S.A., Jagged Little Pill—good albums, sure, but they’re everywhere.
Until one catches: London Calling by The Clash. A grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.
That gritty, raw energy. Exactly the kind of thing he puts on when the world gets too loud in the wrong way. Like silence pretending not to care.
The Sex Pistols. Buzzcocks. The Damned. He’s always had a taste for sharp edges. The classic cuts.
Sometimes, he’ll put on Joy Division or The Cure —not for the bite, but for the ache. A different kind of raw. A bruise instead of a blade.
He’s not immune to the newer stuff—he’s spun Arctic Monkeys until the vinyl wore thin, played Fontaines D.C. on rainy mornings like they were gospel, let Loathe seep through his headphones like smoke through a crack in the wall.
He respects a sound that bleeds. Stuff that echoes his own mental soundscape. Bad Omens. Sleep Token. Motionless in White. Bring Me the Horizon. Music that screams back the thoughts he too often gets lost in.
But older vinyl? It doesn’t just sound different. It hears different.
You drop the needle and it crackles like it remembers the first time it was played. Like it’s been waiting for someone who just… gets it.
He’s surrounded by records all day, but most of them lack bite. Too polished. Too careful. Curated specifically for mass appeal. But his shelves at home are a homage to the great and the good and the underappreciated.
London Calling would belong there. Now that Jisung thinks about it, it has always been missing and he just hadn’t noticed the silence it left behind.
He checks the notes: VGC. The store's asking price is a little steeper than he’d usually go for (fuck his job for not giving credit or discount) but still doable. If he doesn’t spend money on things he needs... like food.
But Seungmin wouldn’t let him starve for the pleasure of reminding him of that fact. And if he really pushes it, Felix will probably bring over leftover takeaway and act like it was Jisung’s idea in the first place. And Jeongin would slip him under the counter brownies if Jisung pouted and made his eyes big and sad enough.
So, with one housemate who feeds him out of spite, one best friend who feeds him out of denial and another out of pity, what’s the harm?
He chuckles, drawing a little star next to it. It will be his. In just one week.
♪ ༘⋆
Record shops are funny things.
There was a time when they were packed to the rafters. Back when vinyl was king and music lived in grooves you could touch. Then came tapes. CDs. MP3s. And after that? Streaming.
By all logic, record shops should’ve died out completely.
But they didn’t.
Their comeback didn’t start with the old boys—the ones who’d been rocking out at basement gigs before Jisung was even a twinkle in his mother’s eye. No, it was the purists who brought them back. The ones chasing the crackle, the buzz, the imperfections. The ones who believed music should be felt as much as heard.
It’s the same reason vloggers are trading in their smartphones for chunky old camcorders.
Purity.
Or maybe just aesthetics.
Over the years, Jisung’s gotten pretty good at telling the difference.
And he’s betting his collection that The Guy lurking outside the door is an aesthetics guy the moment he lays eyes on him.
Polite version? He looks as out of place as a suit at a basement gig.
Crisp white shirt. Tailored trousers. No jacket, but the gleam of metal at the cuffs—cufflinks. Seriously? The lack of a tie somehow makes him look more put-together, not less. Like a cologne ad whispering timeless elegance in a sultry French accent. Pretentious and definitely flammable.
The man tilts his head, glancing up at the sign—Wax & Wane, like he’s trying to decode a riddle. Or maybe he's just aware he doesn’t belong, but curiosity got the better of him. That kind of intentional pause. Like he lost a bet, and is debating whether he has to follow through.
Jisung narrows his eyes.
Definitely one of those ‘Check out my record collection, babe’ types. Probably here to buy a vinyl he’ll never play, just to impress someone who thinks owning a turntable is a flex.
The Guy reaches for the handle. He doesn’t immediately combust. Shame.
Ding-dong.
Jisung exhales sharply and straightens up behind the counter. Here we go.
The Guy doesn’t head straight for the counter. He hovers for a moment in the centre of the store like he’s getting his bearings. His eyes flick over the records, then land on the far wall. And that’s where he heads—purposeful, like he knows exactly what he’s looking for.
Which… doesn’t fit…
The far wall is the heavier section. The classics section. Jisung’s preferred section. And this…guy is tarnishing it with his starch.
Jisung leans, craning his neck around the poster-covered pillar to keep him in view. He looks a little taller than Jisung. Broad shoulders straining under that shirt. His hair is a silky, almost-black brown that moves like liquid when he shifts. Not too long, not too short—just the kind of cut that says I know what I’m doing, but I’m not trying too hard. He’s got this presence, like he’s carved from marble, every angle and line too perfect to be real.
He flips through the records, each movement graceful but deliberate like he’s someone who’s done this before. He shifts slightly, the last vestiges of sunlight hits his face just so—
And Jisung feels it. The glow. The sharpness of his jawline, the slant of his cheekbones, the way the light catches the edges of his features—it’s like someone took a sculpture and made it breathe. It’s fucking ridiculous.
The Guy flicks through more crates. Moves on. Again. Like he’s looking for something specific. Probably some album his date casually mentioned, all giggly and preppy, with lipstick marking their glass of wine, ‘Oh, I love this song!’—and now he’s out here, after a stressful day sitting behind his computer looking at markets and what-not, trying to curate the perfect moment. ‘Let me play you something I think you’ll like.’
Jisung rolls his eyes, exasperated by the whole routine.
Ugh. Men.
Somewhere out there, a girl is waiting to be impressed by a man just like this one who thinks The Smiths are a personality and a turntable is the ultimate in home decor.
Jisung cranes a little too far, the stool beneath him tipping dangerously. His heart skips a beat as it wobbles, but he slams a hand down on the counter keeping himself from toppling over.
The Guy looks up at the sound of Jisung’s stool slamming back to the floor, beside Jisung’s pride.
“You alright?” Felix calls from the storeroom.
“Yeah. Good,” Jisung answers instinctively. Scooping up his dignity, now slightly bruised, and pulling himself together. Thank everything, that pillar is between him and The Guy.
He pushes off the counter with a sigh, doing his low-paid duty as he makes his way over to The Guy, who’s still flicking through records, so damn intentional.
“Can I help you?” Jisung asks as politely as he can, though he’s thinking, You look lost mate.
The Guy startles, blinking like Jisung’s voice snapped him out of a trance. And—well, fuck. Upclose he’s gorgeous.
It’s not just that he’s attractive. It’s the fact that Jisung’s body reacts before his brain can process it. He’s got the kind of face you want to study for hours—perfectly sharp, perfectly sculpted, with dark eyes that seem to see too much. Lashes that belong on a fucking painting. A nose so sharp, it could cut paper. A bow-shaped mouth that somehow manages to look soft and dangerous all at once. It’s the kind of beauty that makes Jisung’s breath hitch without meaning to. His head goes dizzy for a second.
The Guy doesn’t hesitate. He turns back to the records. “Yeah, I’m looking for a record,” he says, his voice steady and casual.
“Well, we have those.” Jisung winces at the weak response, but he doesn’t have a better one. “Um, the popular section is over by the window.”
The Guy almost smiles. A slight quirk in the corner of his mouth. “Nevermind.”
The word lands like a slap. “If you don’t want help—that’s fine.” Fuck you.
The Guy looks up at him, “The album, Nevermind. Nirvana?”
“Oh.” Of course. Nevermind. The vinyl equivalent of a starter tattoo. Fucking hell. Why couldn’t he just be ugly? “End crate.” He leans against the shelves, forcing himself to focus as The Guy goes to the last crate and starts flipping through records. “You don’t seem like a Teen Spirit guy.”
The Guy doesn’t even look up, just continues thumbing through the vinyl. “I’m not. I prefer Breed.”
Jisung is fucked.
His stomach tightens. Breed. Are you fucking with me right now? That’s the track he’d throw on when he needed to release some anger—raw, honest, relentless. Not something you’d expect from someone who looks... like this.
Okay. Okay. So he’s got taste.
Or… he’s just good at the game…
Jisung’s lips twitch into a smile, but he can’t let it go just yet. He’s got to test this guy, right? He’s not just going to throw around one name and impress him. Impressive as it is.
“Breed huh?” Jisung says, tone sharp but playful. “What about Lithium? You can’t just like one side of the record.”
The Guy responds like it’s nothing. “Lithium’s good. But the real heart of that album is in Something in the Way.”
Holy shit. This guy knows his stuff. He’s not just some clueless jerk looking to impress. He knows the layers. The emotion. Jisung folds his arms. He can’t help it. He needs to push a little further—for the sake of his pride.
“Alright,” Jisung says, feeling the pressure. “What about the deeper cuts? Like Blew or On a Plain?”
The Guy looks back at him now, those dark eyes, all liquid, glinting with a hint of amusement. A ghost of a smirk pulling at his lips.
“I can appreciate On a Plain, but for real, Blew is where it’s at. That’s the one that gets to the heart of the sound. The rawness. No filters.”
Well, bend me over right here, right now.
“But, that was on their debut album, Bleach. Not Nevermind.” He turns away, focussing back on the crate.
Jisung has to actively tell his brain, to tell his jaw to close, which it does with a clack of teeth. He’s not used to being outclassed in his own turf, especially not by someone so… effortless about it. Is this guy even real? Felix doesn’t know half this shit, and they’ve been working here for three years. Excluding the three years before that where they basically made this place home on the weekends.
This guy? Is pretty fucking cool. Not just the knowledge of music, but the confidence—hell, the swagger—to back it up. And here Jisung is, struggling to keep his thoughts straight.
Not that he’s ever been straight.
The Guy speaks in the direction of the vinyl, “I had an accident with my copy the other week, and I want to replace—ha!” He snatches out a record, blue cover with a baby boy underwater chasing a dollar bill. “Thank fuck.”
He’s already walking towards the counter, wallet in hand.
Jisung blinks in confusion, genuinely forgetting that this guy can’t buy anything without him. He follows after him, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans, and slinks behind the till. He starts ringing the order in. “You could’ve found a copy of that online,” he says.
“Don’t trust it,” The Guy responds, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smile. “Last record I ordered looked like my cats had been using it as a scratching post. And I prefer original presses.” He picks up a set of new turntable needles from the counter and adds, “I like the selection you have here. I’ll have to come back when you’re not about to close.” He nods to the shuttered window.
When the fuck did Felix do that?
The Guy looks down at the pamphlets on the counter, lifting one and reading from it. “Howl Night at the Lunar Lounge?”
“Oh, uh, we, the store, sponsor open mics and underground bands. Um, non-mainstream stuff.”
“Sounds cool.”
Jisung fights back a smirk, “Don’t think it’s your scene.”
And The Guy arches an elegant eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”
Jisung has an unbearable urge to check the state of his own hair.
“I’m not sure your Gucci shoes will appreciate the sticky floors.” Jisung doesn’t bother hiding the up-and-down look he gives him. “Your turntable’s safer. Trust me. Less vomit.”
The Guy reads the pamphlet with interest. “Headline act: Safety Scars,” he reads aloud. “Any good?”
“Oh yeah.” Jisung leans on the counter, arms folded, feigning nonchalance. “Not a lot of original songs, but they hit the scene swinging.”
The Guy glances over, curious. “If you had to compare them?”
“To another band?”
He nods and leans in slightly. Fucking hell, he smells good. What is that? Something expensive definitely.
Jisung pauses, considering.
Safety Scars aren’t mainstream. Not even close. No videos, no interviews, no bullshit. Just grainy clips of spare room practices and the kind of vocals that sandpaper your spine. You didn’t stumble on them by accident. You had to look. You had to know where to dig. They were the band talked about by those in the know.
They’d started on Soundcloud—just raw, furious covers—and then, slowly, a few originals slipped through the cracks, like weeds in concrete. Jisung couldn’t explain what their sound did to him. Not properly.
But it got in.
Right under the ribs.
Deep.
Especially the two songs written by their drummer, Bunny. Both tracks hit like bruises blooming under skin. Soft. Aching. They made Jisung feel seen in ways he couldn’t articulate.
Not that he ever, or would ever, say any of that out loud. Not even to Seungmin, who didn’t mind when Jisung got emo about stuff. Definitely not to Felix who would probably punch him on the arm and call him a sap.
The Lunar Lounge would be Safety Scars first ever proper live performance. And Jisung had been counting down the days that he would see them live. For their first official live.
“Um. If I had to describe their sound…” His eyes flick toward the ceiling like the right answer might be stapled to the pipes. “Their kind of a bastard child between The Misfits and Joy Division, but spends the weekends with Metallica—sipping beer in the garage with Arctic Monkeys.” he shrugs, “Punk with dark, atmospheric depth. Raw, fast, sweaty—like a pitbull in a leather jacket. No polish. Just punch.”
“No polish, just punch?” The Guy nods with a downturned smile, pocketing a flier. “So not like Nirvana then?”
Jisung laughs at that. This guy wouldn’t get it. “Kurt said himself that Nirvana was a punk band that wrote pop songs. Aside from the skill of their drummer. No. I wouldn’t compare Safety Scars to Nirvana.” Jisung starts punching buttons on the register.
“You think their drummer is as skilled as Dave Grohl?”
Jisung nods. Confidently. “He is for sure up there with the best of them. Are you paying cash or card?”
“Oh, cash.” He pinches his earlobe—Jisung notices it’s slightly pink and there’s definitely a hole there from an old piercing. He opens a wallet fat with notes.
Of course. It’s such a power move. Yes. I have money. Look at it.
“So you’ve seen them perform before?”
“Nah—this’ll be their first official performance. I’m buzzing to see them live. They’re still starting out, so they predominantly do covers, but they have a few of their own which are pure fire. That’ll be £68.99.”
The Guy is already pulling notes from his wallet, silently counting them out beside the delivery manifest. “You have a favourite cover?”
“Oh, well now… um… maybe Love will tear us apart by—”
“Joy Division.”
“Yeah.”
The Guy nods, smiling like he doesn’t know he’s lethal.
Fuck. That smile should come with a warning.
Jisung was not prepared.
“That’s not really a punchy song though, is it?”
“The way they sing it, it still hurts.”
“You like songs that hurt?”
“I like songs that make me feel things,” Jisung says and as soon as the words leave his mouth, the heat crawls up his neck. He doesn’t fucking know this guy. Why the fuck is he blurting this shit out at him.
The Guy blinks, clears his throat, takes the record and the needles, dropping cash on the counter without a second glance. “Keep the change.”
Jisung’s not sure whether he should be relieved that The Guy’s leaving, or disappointed that the whole thing was so... brief.
“Have a nice day!” He calls after him.
The Guy doesn’t glance back, just raises a hand loosely over his shoulder.
And with the ding-dong of the door, he’s gone.
Jisung exhales. Stares at the empty doorway for a beat too long. Hand still holding the cash.
“Who the fuck was that?” Felix leans halfway out the storeroom, like he teleported in on gossip-sensing radar, eyes flicking to the door, then back to Jisung. “Who were you wishing a nice day to? You never wish anyone a nice day!”
As mentioned at the start this fic would not have left my drafts without the support of the Minsung Courtiers: @blueohs @shipwithnocaptain @0sunshinecryptid0 @splittergheist @kaelavee @thebibleophile @soechangbinsrightboob @azraelyz @pixelisthename @platypusundercover @they-reap-what-we-sow <3
♬⋆.˚ Pairing: Minho x Jisung (Minsung)
♬⋆.˚ Genre: Punk-flavoured enemies to lovers, where pining sounds like noisy records, sharp tongues, and sarcasm.
♬⋆.˚ Vibes: Vinyl, loud music, British humour (and spelling), and two idiots in orbit. Featuring original lyrics, fabricated discord chatter and an RP Tumblr account @vinylovervirtue.
♬⋆.˚ Note: Jisung talks about music in this. ALOT. It will die down. Just know that Jisung is a judgemental nerd about it.
♬⋆.˚ Warnings: Chapter-specific TWs will be provided. Heavy cussing throughout.. Everyone is Queer. Eventual smut. This is a WIP
Synopsis:
Jisung works in a record shop, survives on caffeine and spite, and is counting down the days until elusive punk band Safety Scars finally play live.
He does not have time for rich men in tailored suits.
Unfortunately, one just walked in...and he's wearing cufflinks.
And he knows his music.
Worse... he has taste.
Now Jisung has a problem.
And that problem is about to become very. very personal.
or
“You don’t seem like a Teen Spirit guy.”
The Guy doesn’t even look up, just continues thumbing through the vinyl. “I’m not. I prefer Breed."
Jisung is fucked
