#harpstring

✨ — A memory that feels like a movie scene.

his valedictorian speech.

imagine it as though it were a montage of clips altogether. him typing it down to get approval from the school board, then writing it on notecards so that he can make sure he remembers every single word without skipping a beat. he's talking in front of the mirror... in front of his parents... and then a gym during the ceremony rehearsals.

and then finally, he stands at the podium in the football field, delivering the speech.

when he looks back on the memory now, it all feels like a blur. when he moved to korea, he made sure to burn all the notecards that had the speech away so that his past wouldn't follow him and haunt him. a dream that he can never go back to and a moment he will only have once. it's filled with words about how the entirety of the class were destined for bigger and better things and how he was proud of every single one of those seniors who sat in those chairs, listening to him with bright smiles on their face....

what can he say to them now?

fool me once, shame on you. but fool me twice? kangmin might as well start a group chat titled 'people who have seen my dick (accident)". he should really stop reading words halfway, or maybe invest in a new pair of contact lenses because how jiyul is the second person in a span of less than three months to accidentally receive a nude from kangmin needs to be studied.

maybe kangmin should just stop sending nudes altogether, and maybe sending dick pics isn't the pinnacle of romance in the 21st century after all. he'd meant to send it to someone else with a similar name, a cute transfer student that he thought could lead to a hallmark-netflix-hybrid-like romance, only for it to be a one and done thing ( he remembers her words clearly as she picked up her clothing from his bedroom floor: "you didn't think i was serious right? i have a boyfriend!" ).

and so; kangmin was left with no romance, and a now very awkward relationship jiyul. which sucks. kangmin likes jiyul, a lot. he's cute, and nice, and while they aren't particularly best friends, kangmin would consider jiyul a pretty good friend. one that he'd do anything to salvage their relationship for.

anything, really. and kangmin does just that. he waits (albeit, a little creepily), for jiyul to end his classes and for the class to empty out, before he walks up to him - all 6'2 of him - with a guitar. kangmin has never picked up an instrument in his life prior to this. well, there was a time he'd picked up a drum kit in an attempt to show how 'strong' he was, only to accidentally fracture a toe - but that was something else altogether.

"jiyul," he calls out, voice a little awkward. "i'm really sorry about my - that photo," that photo. he can't bring himself to say sorry for my dick pic out loud, because it sounds absolutely ridiculous.

it doesn't end there. kangmin whips out his guitar and clumsily tries to figure out where exactly he should place his fingers. "i've uh, been practicing. i know you love music and i really wanted my apology to reach you - so you know that i'm sincere! and i wanted to make it up to you so i went and did some online lessons..." he begins, clumsy fingers on the guitar, but his words are genuine. "i hate that you've been ignoring me and that things are awkward between us and i want to go back to how we were so - oh no, that's part of the lyrics i wrote for the song...!" he's rambling, he knows and after a moment he finally decides to strum (terribly), eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

the library had been unusually crowded that afternoon — noisy, restless, filled to the brim with students on edge. then again, yerim supposes it might not be all that unusual, not with exams looming over everyone like a stormcloud. she isn’t particularly concerned about her own. academic excellence is a constant in her life, and she expects nothing less of herself this time either. still, she had a lot of studying to do, and she preferred to do it somewhere that didn’t make her want to leave the moment she sat down. 

studying with jiyul has been a constant over the years at yeonhwa, somewhat of a quiet tradition between the two of them. their majors have nothing in common, so there’s no help to be offered — but even so, she finds his presence grounding. calming. she finds she focuses better with him nearby. so when he suggested they go to his dorm instead, she’d agreed without hesitation. neither of them had much patience left over for the noise, and yerim trusts him. she doesn’t make a habit out of going to guys’ dorms out of the blue — not because she’s necessarily particularly modest, but because she knows how things look, and she’s careful about the image she keeps. but jiyul had never given her a reason to worry. he’s respectful, soft-spoken, and oddly easy to trust.

yerim stands quietly beside him as jiyul unlocks the door, the hallway still carrying the faint echoes of distant noises. still — it’s already miles better than the library. the room that greets her as the door swings open doesn’t surprise her — not really. it feels neat, without being impersonal. it feels intentional. her gaze sweeps over the space — she takes note of his many plants, the greenery adding a calming presence to the room. her eyes don’t linger on anything, not until they land on the harp.

she automatically steps forward, approaching the harp with careful curiosity. it’s beautiful — tall, elegant and completely unexpected. she knows jiyul plays instruments, but she hadn’t expected him to have a harp in his dorm room. her fingers hover above the strings as she admires the instruments, not daring to touch without permission. 

“do you play?” she asks, glancing over at him. a second later, she catches herself — of course he does, because who would keep a harp in their dorm room just for the sake of decoration?

seolran’s not particularly sentimental; she’ll keep the occasional knick-knack from rare family vacations, and she’s saved all the letters from friends and photo strips from her high school days, but for the most part, she does not have many mementos lying around her apartment. her life (and running aulait) keeps her busy enough, so she does not need the unnecessary clutter in her workspace.

that being said, perhaps seolran likes herself a little too much. the thought of being able to frame a cute little caricature of herself was too much to resist for her, so she finds herself making her way to the art booth after her shift at the cheerleading booth. from a distance, she can tell there was a long line, but it seemed to be moving quickly.

she passes the time by scrolling through her social media (liking and commenting on woodz’s “yeonchella, are you ready” post). by the time she really looks up from her phone, she's directed to the chair on the opposite end of the booth. she finds herself seated in front of a vaguely familiar face and a small art easel. she furrows her eyebrows as she sorts through her memories to see how she recognizes the figure. after a few seconds of silence, she locks her phone and slips it into her bag.

finally gave a design to Altair and Ira’s sister I’ve had marinating in my brain for like 3 years