yeji has quite a bit of time between her classes that she uses to go home and get into more dance-appropriate attire and get something to eat before she bids her parents a goodbye once again and heads back to where the classes are being held. but the moment hs gets to her and hangyul’s meeting spot, yeji knows something is up – and not because she’s particularly perceptive, but rather because hangyul refuses to take his eyes off his shoes and, from what yeji can see of it, his face is bright red. 

“ what’s with your face ? ” yeji asks, ignoring hangyul’s question, once they finally have the time to speak and hangyul’s not absolutely avoiding looking at her. “ because you’ve looked like a tomato for like the entire time we’ve been here, and i, quite honestly, would like to know what caused you, of all people, to blush like a school girl. ” yeji says, crossing her arms over her chest. but, she decides that maybe she should acknowledge why she decided to drag hangyul along. although, could it really be considered dragging him here when he came here willingly ? probably not. “ hmm … probably for that reason, alone. ” yeji says with a nod. “ yeah, definitely because i wanted to watch you struggle because that’ll be the best part of this whole day. ” she says, smiling.

“ you do realize that’ll only make you look bad, right ? ” yeji points out with a chuckle. “ just because we’re in the same group doesn’t mean you don’t dance … and hey, i want to be able to watch you fail miserably, we can’t be in the same group ! ” she pouts. “ that idol guy was trained to dance like that, you know. ” she points out. “ that’s like, his job, i’m pretty sure. why are you so whiny, i thought that was my job ? ” 

indignant, hangyul protests, "nothing is wrong with my face." but even as he says it, he knows it's not true. if he can feel his skin still tingling, he knows that anyone with two working eyes would be able to see the product of that heat—the colour—on his face. that knowledge, alone, is enough to make his face feel hotter, because fuck, yeji isn't as dumb as she comes across sometimes and was it really that obvious?

   (a guy acts one time in a commercial and suddenly he thinks he can hide everything under a mask. no, he can't).

   "you're a school girl," he shoots back lamely, his cheeks still flaring. it's like his entire personality has crumbled to the ground, in a smoking chojin-scented pile around his feet. chojin. he knows he can do better than an elementary school comeback, but it’s all that his mushy brain can come up with right now. that darn girl group member.

   of course yeji had just wanted to see him make a fool of himself. hangyul doesn't know what else he should have expected. but what she says, makes sense; if he's in a group with exceptional dancers—which, not that he will ever admit it aloud, now that they're friends and not strangers, but yeji is kind of okay at dancing—then he will surely stand out. hangyul doesn't want that, but he also doesn't want to be forced to interact with more people who are probably just as excited about this class as yeji is, while he kind of just wants to escape already.

upon arriving to the workshop that day she glanced around to see if there were maybe any familiar faces before she finds him she hears his voice– the voice of her cousin and she smiles p at him bemused and brows lifted as he comments on her appearance, while she felt it was more surprising that he was there than herself, “yes i am,” she responds to him, completely unaware of the boy that had been interested in hangyul’s spot. naeun was after all more than happy to have her cousin next to her, instead of a complete stranger that would most likely… ask for her number at the end of the workshop.

“we are both here,” she muses in an excited tone, when she had seen the list of workshops this was one she was the most excited about– rap was something she loved to do, she mostly did it as a hobby but she also had a habit of staying out late and seeing the underground rappers in action. to be able to learn rap from someone else was new to her, if they knew what they were doing for the most part and this would be an excellent learning opportunity for her.

when hangyul questions her she blinks once, “i don’t have to know the three pillars of rap to be better than you,” she sticks out her tongue at the male, teasing him back.. she had known him for a while and was familiar with his ways, “but i do know them, or i think i do– people value different things don’t they?” nauen walked into the room and found a place to sit down, her eyes shifting around at the other people that also had entered, “this is a little exciting,” she mutters to herself, which might be silly to anyone else but hangyul but he should know how her family was when it came to music and how she had come up with a grand excuse.

“now i can tell my parents i was meeting you for lunch since you are here and it won’t be a complete lie.”

he should feel the need to stick his tongue out right back at naeun, maybe even pinch her cheeks, even if it's a little childish. but hangyul can't help but smile at the sight before him. his cousin seems really happy to be here, learning about something she loves. he momentarily wonders if everyone else in the room has similar dreams to his cousin, if he's the only idiot who's here just because he likes rap music a little bit.

   hangyul ponders over what she says, and supposes it's true. if he's being honest himself, he hadn't even thought that there could be pillars for rapping. from what he knows about the topic—and clearly, it's not a lot—people just talk along to a rhythm, fast or slow. sure, there's lyricism, and that definitely needs to be acknowledged as a skill, but is there really more to rapping than the simplicities he had always assumed? could he keep up with everyone in this room? does he want to? 

   (the answer to the last one is a surprise. yes, he does want to. because it brings him all the excitement that he feels in a lab, but the rush is different, somehow. maybe because he’s not as good at rap as he is good at looking through a microscope. he doesn’t know if that makes it more or less fun in his head).

   hangyul wonders, if naeun is indeed right, what his three pillars could be. what does he value? it's not a question than can be easily answered when one is still a novice, but that's what this class is for anyways. "what do you think they are, then? what do you value, oh great master of rap, lee naeun?"

beatboxing has always been one of those many things that eunbin would love to learn, which would honestly have been the coolest party trick to show off, but that she couldn’t actually be bothered to make an effort into picking up. not based on her own initiative, anyway. sure, one can argue that attending a class solely intended to teach the basics of beatboxing is her own initiative– still, it’s different from searching up and clicking a random video on youtube.

   actually, it’s two completely differing things.

not really, but to eunbin it’s that way. she is a social person, she craves human contact while attempting new things, who she can fail miserably with, as much as master something with. it isn’t sufficient enough to her, searching the web, far from it. so here she is, present during an hour long course, one out of a small group– from her perspective, anyway. having asked the instructor about techniques other than the basics, eunbin is attempting a zipper sound.

too soon, far too soon. no, she doesn’t get it. yes, she sounds bloody annoying and yes, she looks stupid as heck. as does everyone else honestly, but they are at least all doing the same kick, snare and hi hat sounds. practice, practice, practice. it’s all she hear from the instructor and this is why she either learns something really quickly, or she doesn’t learn it at all, she is far too stubborn to practice what she finds boring, instead fast-pacing to the next step.

“ahhh, i can’t do this~” she whines after a while, turning to the person closest to her. “how are you doing with this? are you getting anywhere? it’s easy, people say. easy my ass!” 

it's hard to focus on himself in this class when there's a handful of others making loud, obnoxious noises. it messes with his concentration, and he fumbles over the techniques he had mastered only minutes ago. hangyul has learned, however, to cover his mouth as he attempts each new sound—because he certainly won't be caught spitting all over another stranger, mind you—so no one can really notice if he's messing it up or if it's a creative decision. he's not going to correct them if they happen to believe the latter.

   his concentration is once again broken (and just as he's getting the hang of it, too!) by the girl standing beside him, who looks and sounds like she could complain for the remainder of the class if he doesn't somehow help her out. hangyul has had enough social interaction for one day, but he’s not rude enough to completely ignore someone. most days.

   "i have no idea what you're doing," he admits, rather blankly. hangyul regards her with an expression that matches his tone. "but i can do this because i'm working on the things we're actually supposed to work on."

   he's not opposed to overeager students trying to excel. hangyul, himself, is one of those people who reads textbooks for the advanced classes, teaching himself concepts that are supposed to be learned in the final year of university. he doesn't mind it one bit, but he also thinks that if someone tries to get ahead of others, they should have the basics down and truly understand what they're trying to learn. getting ahead of one's self when they can't keep up is the single, most embarrassing thing anyone could do.

Céleste checked her watch for the time. 12:58. Cool, she had a little under four minutes left to find that goddamn room. Four because she always made sure to keep her watch two minutes ahead to minimize this type of situation happening in the first place. Starting to get panicky, Céleste put aside her last remaining shred of dignity and ran like a madwoman around, trying to find room 254. 

Huffing and puffing, she slammed over the door open. Too loud. Céleste quickly tiptoed her way to an empty chair near the front, trying to make up for her earlier lack of discretion. She hadn’t seemed to have missed much as the instructor quickly wrapped up his introduction. The small group quickly introduced themselves to each other and the lesson began. 

Céleste understood fairly quickly how beatboxing worked, and the ways she could play around with the rhythm — she was a percussionist after all — but making the sounds was a whole other story. Sure, the basic snare and bass drums were easy enough to emulate, but crash cymbals? No thanks. Céleste was really regretting not having learnt a wind or brass instrument prior to this. Just as she was coming up to that conclusion, Céleste felt something wet land on her arm. Spit. Before she could completely register the situation, she had already started talking. “What the f*ck man?” Attempting to cover it up by continuing her tirade in French, Céleste continued, “Mais qu’est ce que tu fais là ? C’est tellement dégoûtant… As-tu un mouchoir ou quelque chose que je puisse essuyer mon bras avec? [What are you doing? It’s so disgusting… Do you have a tissue or something I can wipe my arm with?]” Tired and out of breath, Céleste smiled up at the offender, ignoring the questioning stares of everyone else around her. 

beatboxing has never been on hangyul's radar before. he signs up for the class on a whim, and before it starts (literal minutes prior to it, when he's standing in the lobby and waiting for time to pass because hangyul is always at least ten minutes early), he watches a how-to video. it's just making a bunch of sounds with your mouth, isn't it? he thinks it seems easy enough.

    hangyul learns, when introductions for the class are over and they've already begun the process, that beatboxing is more difficult than he initially thought. it's not impossible to learn, however, and he catches onto the basics within a few tries. he gets a little too absorbed in it once he knows what to do, and his enthusiasm manifests in the form of excess saliva that flies onto the person beside him; hangyul doesn't realize it until she's ranting at him.

    it takes a while for the moment to sink in. hangyul alternates between staring at the spit on her skin—his spit—and her innocent smile that didn't match her tirade. with every second that passes, he can feel his ears grow hotter. he wants to apologize because, seriously, it's really disgusting to be spat on by a stranger, but he also wants to fire right back at her. hangyul's french isn't exactly fluent, but he knows enough to catch onto her agitation. she probably thinks he doesn't understand, and that's why she's smiling at him as if she hadn't sworn in a common language everyone knows just before her switch to french.

    "je suis désolé... c'est ma première fois... [i'm sorry... this is my first time...]" hangyul tugs his sleeve over his fist and reaches out to wipe her arm clean, before retracting his arm back to his side quickly. "c'est juste un peu de broche. tu n'as pas besoin de paniquer. [it's just a little spit. you don't need to freak out.]" he turns away from her, glaring down at his hands as if they’re the ones who have put him in this situation. trust that if he could glare at his own mouth, he probably would.

this was the first time she had seen her father so excited about something, ever since she had told her father about her interest in music and for whatever reason, naeun was dragged along with him to meet his brother and her cousin it makes her uncomfortable. her uncle had just arrived back in korea after having been in the us for a long time ( she doesn’t care to remember the details ), now she’s apparently to meet a cousin she barely remembers the face of.

it was not her ideal way to spend her time off school.

for her family’s sake she had put on a positive impression, like she always did when it was time for family gatherings– it was her job to look like the perfect little daughter, who got good grades and looked pretty. even if it made her uncomfortable to do so.

when her uncle calls for her she turns and looks in the direction of where the older male was standing, next to him– who she could guess was his son and her older cousin, she walks over to where they are standing and when his suggestion comes she wants to refuse, she does but she could feel her father staring at her– “yes of course uncle,” she smiles brightly at the two, her discomfort grows when he whispers into her ear and all she can do is chuckle and give the older a small glance.

she quietly follows the male to the hallway, somewhat happy about the situation– she could now escape outside instead of being stuck inside an unfamiliar home, she reacts to her cousin’s words and nods, “mhm i’m coming,” she quickly puts on her shoes and jacket, giving someone a tour around the city when she hasn’t been allowed to explore the city herself… it was bound to be an interesting journey for her.

naeun doesn’t wait for the older to open the door and opens it herself, “are you going or not?” she asks him, cocking a brow at him– it was a rather bold comment from her who was usually rather reserved but he seemed to want out as much as her.

there seems to be a stark contrast in his cousin's actions: the overly-polite girl who reacts to her uncle with positivity and a smile that has to be forced, and the sarcastic girl who almost feels like she's mocking him. hangyul catches the switch, but other than a vaguely surprised quirk of the eyebrows, he says nothing.

    hangyul nods and brushes past her, descending the front steps and waiting for her at the bottom with his hands buried deep in his pockets. the fresh air feels strangely nice against his lungs as he inhales deeply, though still unfamiliar. he hasn't left the house much since returning to korea, maybe once or twice to the corner store for a bag of chips, but otherwise he's been entirely focused on settling into the new house and preparing himself for his final year of high school. even abroad, he spent most of his time indoors. maybe he should try and get out more often? new year new me or whatever.

    "thanks for..." hangyul trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. for saving him from an awkward family function with people he barely remembers? how can he say that without pissing off his tour guide, who is definitely one of those aforementioned people he barely remembers. "for showing me around," he decides. "but i guess i'm also sorry that my dad is forcing you to do this."

it doesn’t look like its working, so she begins to resign herself to the fact that she’d have to look for someone else, possibly after getting yelled at for being pushy. but then he seems to freeze, and whatever he was about to say doesn’t leave his mouth.

she doesn’t know what exactly it is that she said to cause this complete 180 in attitude but she is most definitely pleased that he has changed his mind, making her day a thousand times easier. she gives him a smile and goes to give him the lipstick, doing her best to stop herself from laughing at the phrase ‘makeup stick’.

but then he stops, pulling his hand away. please don’t start arguing with me again she thinks but then he asks her to apply it. what is she gonna do? say no?

“okay, hold still.” she puts one of her hands underneath his chin to hold him steady and applies the lipstick, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she pulls away, using the hand under his chin to tilt his head this way and that. “okay, now do this!” she points to her own mouth, pressing her lips together a few times to blot.

“i knew it’d look good.” she roots through her bag, pulling out the pocket mirror she keeps on her for makeup touchups, handing it over to him. “oh, i’m cheng xiao, by the way.”

hangyul's eyes go out of focus as he tries to stare down his own nose to see how the stranger applies the makeup to his lips. he can't see anything this way and, deciding that the strain on his eyes isn't worth it, he relaxes in her hold and stares at her instead. the way her forehead wrinkles, lines of concentration decorating her face, hangyul can't help but wonder if this how all girls look like when they put on makeup. he had never thought much of it before, but it seems more difficult than he originally believed—and this is only one, tiny part of a much larger routine. he knows, courtesy of his classmates' teasing during lectures, that it's the same face he has when he's doing equations, and suddenly, hangyul has a greater appreciation for the art.

    he doesn't realize how close he was to the stranger just seconds ago, so lost in his appreciation, until she pulls away. his face flushes in a belated response as he watches her motions and attempts to mirror them. hangyul accidentally swipes his tongue across his coated lips and grimaces. what is this horrible taste? he spits dryly to rid his mouth of the flavour. "is it supposed to taste this bad? bleh!"

    reluctantly, he accepts the pocket mirror and snaps it open to get a better look at himself. he feels ridiculous, really, but reminds himself that this is an experiment. like all others, he must be committed and see it through to the end. so, he peers silently at his reflection in the tiny mirror, examining the results. "don't you think the colour is too bright?" hangyul furrows his eyebrows; his lips stand out too much on his face. "i don't know how makeup works but that's what i think."