#*musicgame

[rkcheri]

♫ !! do me!!!

love & war by tamar braxton we started discussin’ it to fightin’ then “don’t touch me, please.”then it’s “let’s stop the madness, just come lay with me.” and truth be told i’m wavin’ my flag before it goes bad

she hates him, she really does.

she hates the way he smells when he gets home from work – the way his slender fingertips slide over white buttons and pull off linen to reveal taut skin and an exhausted demeanor that jihyun can only get rid of by baring her own soul and on some days that just isn’t enough to keep her still.

she hates when he wakes, too, the way his body seems to fit against her like a piece of a puzzle that she never thought she’d finish (because jihyun hates puzzles and never has the attention span to finish any of them but it seems like yixing knew how to do so with a tug and a far too easy push). 

there’s also the hate she has when he never empties the damned trash because jihyun has princess hands and never has she ever had to do something as rustic as trash-handling.

jihyun hates when she can’t think of the right words to say, he comes up and answers – fills in the blanks – and completes every fucking sentence that can possibly come from her lips. what a fucking know it all, right? she hates that he knows so much when she knows too little and it bothers her because jihyun wants to fucking be a smart aleck sometimes, too.

she also hates when he stays out too late, because she’s left in a home that’s too quiet, it’s far too lonely and she hates how her only company is herself and silence because she doesn’t like being quiet and she hates it more that she can’t have him there to interrupt such silence. 

but sometimes, sometimes, jihyun loves yixing, like, really, really loves him.

she loves the way his fingertips intricately curl and run through every crevice and hidden dole. and it makes every late night worth it because he’s there, and the sex is great because she really shows him how much she misses him and she doesn’t mind not staying in one place because they have far too many unused rooms in that large house of theirs.

jihyun loves the way he wakes her up, it’s a kiss here and a kiss there and then suddenly they’re eating yummy waffles and she doesn’t even realize how great of a cook she’s married and she wonders why the hell did you take that corporate job when you could be making breakfast for me everyday and then she realizes he works for her dad and it probably wouldn’t be a great idea to peg him to quit.  

she also loves when he finishes her sentences because it shows how much he really does know her and that even if she did graduate college, she did have the attention span of a guppy and wording things as nicely as she wanted to isn’t her forte and he saves her the embarrassment of making a fool of herself because he’s there to make the situation cute and awfully adorable by adding an ending to a sentence that wasn’t meant to be trailed.

( she also just loves his voice because it’s dark, deep and has the slightest tip that makes her toes curl and a soft whimper leave her lips at the most crucial moments )

it’s also in the fragments of quiet thinking does she really love him because it makes her think and it has her looking at a future of what ifs and what nots and she knows she doesn’t want to live a future without yixing because she really does love him. 

and even when she can hate him with every fiber of her being, there are the millions of moments that love him.

( even if he still never takes out the trash, she can learn to love that as time goes by )

[rkcheri]

♫

just a kiss by lady antebellum just a kiss on your lips in the moonlightjust a touch of the fire burning so brightno i don’t want to mess this thing upi don’t want to push too far

the first date, he kisses her so slowly that it makes her want to cry. she told herself she was going to make him wait but it ended up with him driving her home and telling her goodnight and her demanding that he walk her to her door because isn’t that what gentlemen do? he does it and it only makes her sniff her small little nose in the air because he only does it because she told him to and when he leans in like she knows he will (because c'mon aren’t most guys predictable), he kisses her like he’s kissing her for the last time and jihyun feels tears come to her eyes almost instantaneously.

she doesn’t even expect him to call her because she knows how horrid she was at the end of their evening and she knows she messed up but three days later she hears her cell ring and suddenly his voice is bright and husky in her ear and she doesn’t know why but she feels tears sting at the corners of her eyes.

( she’s not desperate but she’s just too far gaffed into disbelief that this was actually happening )

“why?” she asks him three dates later when they’re kicking at the sand and he just got done being tormented by her father and her brother (both of whom agreed that after seeing his gummy smile and hearing his hearty laughter that they literally melted upon meeting him). jihyun doesn’t think she’s anything worthwhile and after their first date, she’s sure she made the worst impression in the history of worst impressions. dark hues watch as he shrugs, he’s not smiling now nor is he laughing, it’s kind of alarming and jihyun definitely can’t help the sweat she feels pool at the crevices of her palms because she’s nervous and this probably wasn’t the best time to be holding his hand in hers. ( so she lets go but that doesn’t get her away easy enough because he’s tugging on her hand again and she’s cussing under her breath because she’s oh-so-sure he can feel her sweat glands forming in her palms )

“because,” he starts, and jihyun can just tell there are tears in his voice and she realizes it’s the first time that she isn’t tearing up and it has her secretly smiling. “you made me realize what kind of woman i wanted to marry.”

his answer has her blushing and she bumps her shoulders into his but then again she’s not disagreeing because even if they’ve never talked about it, she does see herself in his arms for a good eternity or so.

( and in a year, there’s something in the way he looks at her that she knows, the way his eyes twinkle and moisten, that he’s about to propose.

and unsurprisingly, she says yes.)

[rkcheri]

♫

skinny love by birdy tell my love to wreck it all,cut out all the ropes and let me fall

because they’re two fucking places on the map and she’s just jihyun, she’s also olivia, but none of those are cities or places or anywhere she could go to escape them and she hates it.

she doesn’t even know when it begins, it’s a sordid affair of questioning and keenly hidden jealousy that jihyun keeps behind a mask of delight and joy because she’s just jihyun and nothing was going to change that. no matter how many times she lets rome come to her house, no matter how many drinks she shares with sunyoung, they’ll always find a way to each other because they’re two places on a map with a direct flight to and fro while jihyun is here, a person of seoul, with nowhere else to go. her heart is in one place but she’s sure that the person she’s handed it to has dropped it during their travels to another and it kind of sucks (more like it really, really sucks but jihyun doesn’t say so because there’s nobody to listen, really).

and in the midst of jet-lag and nights staying up saying that she can’t sleep because she’s set to a time that isn’t of that region, she wonders if the moments she fantasizes in her mind is allowed in the reality of her world; if it was even fathomable to pass the corners of her darkest fears and make themselves known to a person she knows will only laugh in her face and hand her another broken piece of her heart. if it were possible to create moments where she can just slip her hands around a waist, lips upon another’s without a single thought or doubt that their love for her wasn’t real. its these thoughts that keep her wide-awake and left in the morning with a groggy stare and a stale taste in her mouth.

and in the day she still wonders — wonders if there’s enough longing in her heart to justify the need she feels to occupy such a love when all she knows is unrequited stares and wanton longing. but all she has are the fragments of conversations, the mere memories of drinks and the rare kisses she knows are mistakes on the other’s part.

(she knows because the next day she’s left with an empty bed and a voicemail saying how sorry they are of taking advantage of her and how they should never speak of this again and it just has jihyun knowing where her place is and crying her heart out because there goes another piece of her heart to a person she knows she shouldn’t give it to but she can’t fucking help it because god was fair — a fair that was twisted and unnecessary and it sometimes made jihyun wish that she wasn’t christian because god was seriously not fucking fair to her)

she thinks she’s over it, one day, she fools herself into thinking that maybe the love she feels isn’t love. that it’s just some diluted fraction of affection and her head immediately agrees because it’s better than crying and feeling sorry for herself. she was better than that, she had a prideful ego to take care of. i’m better than this, i’m better than them. it’s a motto that plays in her head like a broken record player — playing and repeating until the plug has to be forcibly yanked.

which is what it definitely feels like when she catches them together. there’s a boob and she’s sure that isn’t rome’s underwear on his hips (she’s also wondering how the hell sunyoung’s underwear even fit on him) and she doesn’t know what to say. she’s muttering something along the lines of ‘trying to return a key’ that no longer belonged to her and ‘i’m so sorry i should have called’ but i really didn’t want to before she’s scrambling to close the door and running out of the apartment. she expects them to be flustered, to at least go after her and explain, but as she climbs into the elevator, she waits, finger on the ‘keep open’ button, for nothing but air. no one leaves the apartment and it has jihyun feeling the pain of tears again because fuck, did god hate her for this fucking humiliation? 

jihyun wonders how blinded she must have been to have missed everything — the signs — the symbols — anything at all that could have led up to this. and she thinks, fuck this, because she was better than this — better than to let herself get caught up in a love triangle that was never hers to start with. she was lee jihyun, for christ’s sakes, olivia lee, and even if she didn’t have a city for a name or a place on the fucking world map, she had a little more self-respect than to delude herself into thinking she was in love; because no, god was fair and he definitely wasn’t going to have that. 

[rkcheri]

♫ [ /sits on tumblr so it'll stop eating it o n o ]

hocus pocus by 2lson wishing i’d be with youjust, i want to be with youbaby, you know it’s truei’ll hope that you’re happy

the first day jihyun sees aron, she’s a bundle of excitement and jitters. she watches as he comes in close and makes the first move. it’s a hand and a smile, one that’s easily returned by an eager trail of yaps and chatter. he doesn’t say much except for the occasional nods and laughs but that’s okay because jihyun is fine with doing all the talking, she’s fine with filling up comfortable silences with her begs and pleas of attention. they’ve only been together for a few hours but she doesn’t forget him so easily because that night, he pays for her dinner and takes her home with him.

jihyun’s a feisty chihuahua and aron’s a clumsy owner of a collar that smells like nutmeg and peppermint, a combination of a christmas jihyun had yet to see, it makes her want to kiss him, cuddle him, do whatever she could to be with him and she sees to it to do just that. she takes up all his available time, her lips an anxious climb from his collarbones to his cheeks; the way he laughs at her antics has her as happy as can be – a tail-wagging-type of glee – and it doesn’t take long before she’s calling her new home her world.

‘baby!’ she’ll hear him holler from a different room, it’s affectionate and amusing but jihyun comes running all the same, she stops by his side and looks up at him. his tall stature a column of comfort and security since the day he took her in. he calls her by a name that she doesn’t recognize. baby. she questions it at first, she gives him a few tilts of her head, several shakes before she’s resting beside him, eager to please, and responding to a name so unfamiliar it’s become familiar in a matter of seconds because she just wants him to be happy.

it’s been a thousand days since jihyun first came through the door. she has a place in his bed, a dented formation where her body fits so perfectly, a spot in the bathroom with all her favorite toiletries and several amusings to keep her busy when aron isn’t there. she’s made an impact, and it shows – in the way aron’s grin widens as he comes through the front door to the way his eyes lazily try to stay awake when jihyun climbs into bed ready for a cuddle. she knows she made his world better (even if it sounds a bit conceited) she just knows that he loves her and there’s no doubt that she loves him too.

so when a new face comes into the picture, she can’t help but feel insecure of her place. she grows agitated whenever she sees the woman trapeze through their home – herhome – with the widest smiles she’s ever seen and it doesn’t help that aron seems to enjoy her company, maybe even more than he enjoys jihyun’s. when he turns to leave with the woman, jihyun’s up and running, jumping from the couch and tugging on his sleeves so he doesn’t leave. she doesn’t want to be alone (she was left by herself for the past few nights – shouldn’t he stay home with her tonight? she misses his cuddles and kisses). but all he does is ruffle her hair and kiss her forehead, even if her eyes are pleading him, he just laughs and steps away, closing the door on his heels as jihyun stares at the panel, dumbfounded and depressed.

she cries that night, her first tear-shed since she’s come into this home. jihyun doesn’t know what to call the wetness that slides down her cheeks and dampens hairs, she doesn’t wipe them away because hell, why not show aron what he’s been doing to her but that doesn’t seem to do much because when he does come home all he does is sit by the phone or sleep. he makes no move to talk to her, he doesn’t even leave room for her on his bed anymore. there’s an unusual smell where she once laid, it's fragrant and feminine – a stark contrast to aron’s usual husky scent. she snuffs and claws at the sheets until they come undone and off the bed, with all her might she drags them to the trash in the kitchen, sitting upon them as she waits for aron’s return, ready for him to see her dignified tantrum in play.

(and she has it all planned, she can see it happening in slow motion – he’ll laugh when he sees her by the trash, sitting, pouting, on sheets that he should knows are dirtied. he’ll come running, ready to pick her up and throw her into the air, amused by her antics. he’d drop right back into the swing of things.)

funny how things play out though, because when aron comes home he brings along that woman – that woman – and she screams when she sees jihyun. it has aron running, alright, stopping right at the entrance of the kitchen to see jihyun in her act. sheets trashed and the obvious wreckage along the seams of his bed sheets.

“she has to go!”

the words are alarming and it immediately has jihyun whimpering because what else could she do when aron was picking her up and putting her out on the terrace, the cold picking up against her small body as she stares at the two people from behind the glass door.

she didn’t see this coming; before she knows it, she’s going on a car ride. it’s one that reminds her of her first ride home, to aron’s home, the place that used to be her world. but this one was different, she was going away from it, the place they were headed unknown to her until she sees a white house and an old man at the door. she looks from the window to aron, watching as he sighs and helps her out of the car. she tries to speak, yaps and whimpers free-falling from anxious lips. her legs waddle and try to stop him from moving her but he does so because he’s stronger, he’s taller – he's human. (because jihyun’s just a dog, a furry-little animal that used to be his world) he doesn’t give her another look as he walks off, handing her off to the old man before he turns and gets into his car.

it’s then does she realize that aron never loved her, he never loved her like she loved him. because jihyun, baby, was a feisty chihuahua that was full of mischief and the slightest hint of jealousy and aron, a clumsy owner with a collar far too loose to be kept, was far too out of her league – they’d never work out, not when jihyun was a dog. 

[rkcheri]

♫

you make me feel BRAND NEW by verbal jint, san e, bumkey, swings, phantom & kantoi thank you for this brand new day i’m just thankful, though you should know because i really feel that you care about me

it’s a stolen moment in a schedule filled up to the top with performances and interviews. jihyun knows she’s a nothing in comparison to the lot of them but that doesn’t sway her delight that steals her senses when it comes to sitting by yubin, talking to yubin, merely staying here beside the other — whether they were doing something or doing nothing at all. it was a simple moment in a day filled with everything and anything that she thinks she could somehow find herself getting used to this.

she’s in love and it’s okay because she was in love with yubin. 

two years of it, and she’s still here. she sits beside yubin, her voice graying and low, she can’t sing anymore but she thinks it’s okay because yubin’s voice makes her feel better. on days she cries and thinks her life means nothing, yubin’s voice was her solace. yubin’s voice is the song she can’t sing but enjoys listening to every minute of the day, every second of her life. with yubin beside her, everything fell into place.

as long as her place was beside yubin, she was okay. 

ten years down the line, she can’t see — her voice is gone and sight had become a defect. she chokes on air and can barely speak. she’s told she has a month (or two, tops) to live. she finds no harm, nothing wrong with the cut off of breath and pulse. she can’t see life, she can’t see the evils, the beauty but her last picture is kept a secret because she knows it’s all she needs to keep herself in a home she’s built and kept secure.

she’s okay because her life had been fulfilled, she had been loved and given a home, she was okay as long as it was with yubin.

the monitor says her heart is failing. she can hear sobs at her side and instead of saying ‘stop, it’s alright’, she raises a cautious hand, a call to the other’s as she smiles, white a stark contrast to a bare expression.

“don’t cry, yubin.” she’ll say on the last day. “you were here.” and that’s all she ever needed. 

[rkcheri]

♫

you deserve better (feat. sanchez) by verbal jint to be crying because of love? you’re pretty enough, let me be by your side pretty girl, that guy still doesn’t know you (he doesn’t know) pretty girl, he can’t see the jewel inside of you

( tw! blood, death )

sirens. they’re loud and alarming, they shake the walls and answer to shouts and cries for help. she sees red and white and blue, a call between hell and heaven over the sound of emergency and distress. there’s red everywhere. it seeps into the ground and rids purities of their intricate designs. it destroys everything. it spills from a sole source and jihyun is at the other end, hand stilled, body un-moving. she echoes the body before her; skin as cold as ice, expression halted in the last few seconds of passion. she can still hear his yell beneath her fingers, the way the pressure of love and hatred swarmed beneath a pulse and suddenly stopped at the last grip of life.

boxes are tipped over, clothes strewn around the room, trampled on by a dozen pair of shoes. words are spoken and jihyun, in the midst of it all, can’t hear – can’t answer. she can only see it happen.

white is tainted by red, a dozen eyes flown to a woman without a mind but blinded by love. the weapon of choice thrown to the side. her fingers drip with a substance she doesn’t recall touching but is there, by choice – by default? it’s a temporary loss of knowledge because her thoughts are once more disturbed by speech. a speech of alarm and quick codes.

she doesn’t know who called them, nor does she have the chance to ask because she hears a clatter of silver and metal against a chilled floor. white tiles tainted with a drying rouge. it’s stick and starting to smell, the scent an obvious twinge of regret and confusion. 

lee jihyun. that was her name but she doesn’t answer to it. not when as a white sheet covers his body, the only thing she can care to say is his. a yelp, a scream ( changmin! ) as they move the body. hands hesitantly hold onto death as if frightened that any move would have his murderer fleeing over to him. and they were right. steps are made, pulled free from ice and hastened to a run, attempts made to hold onto a body that is of no oxygen and a failure of pulses.

her hands push him down, hindering the motion, he wasn’t leaving. she presses a cheek to a stalled chest, eyes wild with blurs and tears, crying for nothing as the paramedics are at alarm. hands reach out to her but she’s screeching, a mess of korean is thrown into the air as she scrambles to fall to the floor and cling to a man she subconsciously knows is not with them any longer.

“don’t leave, changmin.” each word is chanted several times, in a voice so close to a whisper that even she can’t hear them properly. “don’t leave.”

[rkcheri]

♫

you’re pretty the way you are (with lim donghyun) by tako & jhyung you’re pretty even without starving yourself.

 two women stood clad in a simple pair of lingerie, white cotton and loose against their identical slender skeletons; fingers clutched tightly to their sides as women of ages far more mature than their own stood around them, each hovering with a utensil of measure in their hands. small spectacles perched on the tip of one’s nose droops lower as it further inches towards jieun’s elbow, squinting at the sight of a more than dainty-looking pelvis; the ribbon in between her fingertips snapping as it hits skin and marks a number jihyun is appalled to even see as possible.

she doesn’t mean to stare, she really doesn’t but as eyes do as they shouldn’t, they pry open disbelief and ponder over a vast blasphemy of hows and whys. jihyun doesn’t understand, she really doesn’t, and as she continues to watch, she can’t say she ever will. it’s a horror of tainted beliefs and a slander of a body jihyun knows in her heart she never wants but in the end, stands to have. has society become so twisted that a measure of a waist so little had become it’s horrific norm?

the way the measuring tape wraps around a slender waist, it’s grip anything but rough and yet, all jihyun can see is the way bones protrude their sharp ends over the white lines, beige flesh a measure of nothingness rather than stout in her eyes. she can’t bear to even look up, the sight of jieun’s face, one that mirrors an expression much like her own, seemed unbearable — frightening — and jihyun, as much as she perceived herself as strong as could be, would crumble at the smallest glimpse of a face outlined with frustration and distaste, two things as idols they should never outright speak of.

she should say something, though, shouldn’t she? there was something obviously very wrong about all this but as she looks down at her own tape, at the lines that mark her own body — the way it holds her still and yet, as if a figment of nothingness tips her over because she has nothing to balance her — it makes her close her eyes, wishing for the time to pass as easily as sand against a slanted palm. the cool slap of a finger against her thigh makes her flinch and she can only imagine the way jieun feels when she hears the sound echo the one that had managed to imprint itself on her skin.

jihyun felt disgusting, the way her body arched abnormally with each move she made, the way her back revealed far too much. the number of lines that were sewn beneath a layer of muscle were far more prominent than usual; hands of cold and calculating trust ran over them, as if measuring the weights and the heights, the numbers of perfection, in their heads. perfection. this wasn’t that, at least not to jihyun. 

“you’re done, pretty.”

a carefully hidden sigh is gulped down, bitterly concealed by a heavy breath instead as she steps down from the pedestal, mirroring jieun’s routine of putting her clothes back on. the warmth of loose clothing unpleasant and undesired.

they make it out and the first thing jihyun can think to say is, “pretty, my ass.” a scoff, bitter and sarcastic as she stuffs her hands into her coat’s pockets, walking beside the older girl as they made it out of the health ward.

"i hate this,” she can hear the other speak in a tone that is unlike the rest of her beautiful song; it’s a melody jihyun hates and knows, deep down, she sings as well, probably far too often than she should. “why do they think this is pretty?” jihyun’s gaze rises to meet the older girl’s, her shuffle of feet and tile halted.

“this isn’t pretty, unni." a shake of her head, "whatever we are, it’s anything but pretty." 

[rkcheri]

♫

treasure by tori kelly even if the tide is high, out here it’s just you and i.

the glow of summer is a somber warmth at the senses, an enchanting oasis of lazy days and cool splashes against a calm creek. a burden of overgrown daises clashes at obscenely-clad bodies. heights nearing the absolute minimum but heightened by the slightest of stretches. mama always said you looked taller lying down. she’d joke on different days of the week, each time he decided to wear a different pair of sneakers that more often than not decided to be more eye-catching (eye-blinding, as well) than the last.

she can feel the cool pull of the water at her ankles as they kick at the water two nights too early. fire brightens the sky in marvelous colors of red and white – yellow shies at the ends before fraying away, dispersing into an air of smoke and timid fireflies. jihyun can’t see anything except for a faint shadow and the youthful silhouette of a boy six months older than she. the way shades of black and gray corner his features is a sight jihyun only realizes is both frightening and familiar. the dark feigning a fear she never thought to have had prior to that moment.

“do you think we’ll be friends even when you’re in new york?” he says, the shadow moves – it disturbs a peace that jihyun had painted over as a dangerous melancholy of bitterness and excitement all rolled into a busan summer night.

she kicks at the water, stalling her mind – her thoughts – pacing the time instead of answering. dark shades of brown remove their gaze; she doesn’t look because not seeing is also not knowing and not knowing the way his gaze lingers and stills before disappearing completely feels better than keeping a stare that jihyun can’t comprehend because, well, she was just eight years old. an eight year old who as innocent as one could be tried to hold onto naive dreams as long as possible.

“maybe.” it’s a single word and it’s all jihyun can think of to say because even as an eight year old she knows that promises were the worst to say if they were left unfulfilled.

the pool of water before them echoes a scenery of stars that busan never has. it makes jihyun frustrated and wistful all the same, because tomorrow she knows she might never see a portrait as natural as this ever again. she may never talk to a boy she’s known for the rest of her life for a good while.

hell, the chances of actually seeing him seemed near to impossible at that very moment.

“jiji?”

she looks up; dark hair shares the same gravitational pull as his own grown-out trim, they smother the eyes and hinder gazes but never once urge the owners to make a move other than to quietly measure the time.

“yeah, daedae?”

“i’m your best friend, right?”

this time, jihyun doesn’t pause because the slightest breath is stolen and given to words that she doesn’t hesitate.

“you’re my bestest friend in the whole word, daedae."