#movingforward.

Attention stolen, June tries to keep his manners in check, etiquette and all playing like a record. All until he sees the orange held out towards him and he’s forgetting in favor of setting his peace offering down and taking hold of the fruit. Well it’s not a peace offering really just the same assortment of goods from the ahjummas at the bakery he used to play near. Every time they see him, he’s got a few complaints about his weight and cheers about how much he’s grown before they send him off with a goodie bag. It’s people like that that remind June of his p’s and q’s. As well as his mother. Yeoreum’s one of those people too, June’s grateful.

He takes a bite - forgetting all he should about not getting orange bits all over his guitar case or the handle carrying the goodies. All he cares about is getting the taste on his lips because the thing about summer is nothing sits and lingers and isn’t as drawn out as people make it seem. He can’t savor it as much as he wants and it’s probably because he’s tearing into the fruit rather messily but he’s hungry. Between morning classes and the walk here in the sun he hadn’t had time to think about himself, then there’s Yeoreom always managing to think of everyone and everything. That’s why he tries to eat and respond quick, hands doing what his mouth can’t get out well enough.

June stiffens, turns to view their surroundings, and stiffens again. He clams up just how he expects to. His only comfort between the time it took for his words to leave and her laughter to spill, was his guitar. It’s slung close to his chest and shadowing him much like his own hat. Much like her visor.

Thing is, e wasn’t supposed to be out and the worry flits around widened eyes and fidgety fingers. While he waits for her answer, he tries a sly smile with it. Tries to radiate the calm collection that she has because of course Taeyeon in the flesh wouldn’t know anything about his appearance than anyone else would. He’s underground, unknown and she’s overground, sky high and in the spotlight. Someday, maybe one day he’ll look back on this encounter as pinnacle in his career.

Or a downfall.

He keeps his excitement down for the sake of both of them and instead lets his grin surface after a few coughs into his hand. Finally. His shoulders slack and breaths of relief pour out. “Ah that’s not it,” responses return in the form of sheepish embarrassment, coloring his cheeks and neck, “I’m not supposed to be out here at all really. So if you get spotted we’re both kinda dead you know?” It’s her gesture that brings back his confidence because there’s nothing better than being called talented by someone who’s had their own talent become a staple of who they are. 

“um, yeah, hyung you can’t chase a dream and have a job.” he talks like he knows but he really doesn’t. any of his earnings come from gigs, because trainees don’t get paid. maybe in hope, blood, sweat, tears all that good stuff. payment for the soul but never in anything else. so, resentful as his family is, they sneak cash in every now and then and june tries to keep his spending on the minimum. a guitar pick here with no splurging there and it’s all good. he’s all good.

“but listen, there’s a festival....” he’s slow on the words, trying to fix the best expression he can on his face. all innocent and puppy-like for the masses and in case a customer looks over, for the sympathy as well. he fidgets with the counter first and looks at kiel before dropping the bomb, “in busan!”

“I don’t have a ride because I’m supposed to be at school but! I got clearance to play around the area with some of my buds aaaannnnnd since it’s been a while you should come.....and you should drive because I can’t, and it’s tonight so we have to leave soon.” bomb after bomb after bomb.