green light

mun info

name/alias: ej age: 18 + pronouns: she/her/hers timezone: est (gmt-5? 4? wtf is daylights savings???) discord: cozyboy#6004 little trivia fact: tbh i’m a k-hiphop/rnb junkie so watch me pretend like i can rock lol

character info

character name: nam dohyun age: 25 zodiac sign: cancer (meh, is this even accurate? tbd) group/band/position: singer & rhythm guitarist for CTRL info links or quick points about your character: half-baked stats and bio are up. apologies for the messy messy bio; messy me was racing against the app deadline lmao. so instead, here are way too many tldr points about the boy: 

background

born to a borderline chaebol mother and a borderline b-list rockstar father who really shouldn’t have gotten married at all; but it’s a shotgun wedding made possible by the conception of ~yours truly~ 

his dad is quite literally terrible and among many things, a serial adulterer. the man leaves (more like kicked out at last...) when dohyun is no older than ten. nam is actually his mother’s last name, which he takes thereafter

does dohyun have daddy issues, you might ask? ermmm well, let’s just say he doesn’t even know or remember the man well enough to hate or miss him so it’s whatever

spoiled growing up b/c his family pities how he’s fatherless. but probably they’re more worried that if they don’t ‘love him enough’ (read: expensive gifts and lots of nagging) dohyun will end up like his good-for-nothing father *shudders in rich grandparent* ... but he just plays this weird leverage game with them to do whatever he wants, running around with his ragtag bands and whatnot

in reality, there’s a lot of gaslighting in both directions. an implicit cloud of blame and pity looms over dohyun’s head, like ‘damn if u didn’t pop into ur mommy’s womb, none of this would have ever happened.’ idk, he’s a living reminder of the most shameful thing that’s happened to this family. everyone’s hoping that dohyun’s not like his dad but deep inside, they kinda believe he’s fated to suck anyways...

prime piece of evidence no. 1: why the hell is he doing this rockstar thing ??? dohyun realizes it’s pretty shitty to do this to his mom and whoever else but... it just feels right. ‘music is my life’ yadada but it’s also just fun, and he thinks he’s pretty good at it. the continued chain of success and unexpected fame from his various musical stints seem to agree. sure he had to burn some bridges and breach a whole lot of trust with his family to get where he is but come on -- they thought he was going to be a huge bust anyways, no? just meeting expectations!

personality

dohyun can be... other-worldly. 4d, sure. he’s in his own realm a lot of the time. like everyone else around him is on one orbit? he’s on a one-man spaceship vibing on another. doesn’t mean he’s clueless though; he’s actually extremely perceptive (just cancer things... or the result of sussing and being sussed out by his family his entire life) but will pretend like he doesn’t notice things b/c it’s more convenient to not care

often told he has a natural charisma which helps as as a performer, i guess. but more than likely it’s just (1) his face (ngl he knows he’s pretty) or (2) people stick around b/c they want to see what wack ass shit he’s going to do or say next. definitely a bit of a showman in that regard. anyways, he’s probably a fun guy to be around?

his whole ‘larger than life’ public image is not fake per say, but dohyun in intimate settings is more of a grandpa soul than you’d think. gets very excited and also very existentially tired about things rather quickly. probably an introvert at heart who is way too talented at being an extrovert

funky antics and ‘cool kid’ vibes largely hide the fact that he does have aspirations / desires (he’s serious about his music and what he’s doing in the indie scene; ctrl is hitting big and he’s seemingly getting places) as well as really dark thoughts and insecurities shh

super open guy without actually being open. definitely that guy you think you know really well until you really start to think about it... and realize you really don’t know him at all. damn. he’ll often listen to others and lend them a shoulder to lean on or pour them a shot, but will never seek it out for himself. really his upbringing has made it difficult for him to receive affection or care without being skeptical af or feeling like he’s being pitied

he’s got a lot of growing and soul-searching to do / i’m still figuring stuff out and would love for u all to be part of it <3

wanted connections

umm page to come eventually but some quick ideas i’d like to see for dohyun: 

ctrl bandmates! so many fun dynamics and moments we should figure out -- very ready to make all the other bands jealous heh

a real trooper friend and confidant who doesn’t give up on him, even when he’s being a little dodgy shit

a squad to just set hongdae on fire with -- not literally but figuratively. like live for the nights you won’t remember ayy

exes, flames, 'are we just friends?’,  one-sided(?) crushes, and any variants. dohyun is entranced by the idea of love but is trash at it in practice (genetics, right? an empty excuse for his actual rship problems lol). definitely breaks hearts but gets his own smashed way harder so it’s even, okay?!

i really dig a good childhood friends trope; whether that’s like friends to lovers(?) or enemies or rivals or ‘how the hell are you two friends’ or whatever

someone he keeps running into in the most awkward or embarrassing situations only

someone who sees through his bs; and vice versa

musical collaborators, rivalries, mutual fans, anything really; “um i think i liked you better on stage / you are not what i expected” moments?

an antagonist. sorry this is vague af, but point being: i’m good with ‘negative’ plots too!

she places a hand on his shoulder mockingly, a dramatically exaggerated sigh leaving her lips. “god, this must be so difficult for you – first, seeing me at my show and now, playing one with me? damn, dohyun, if you missed me, you just needed to say so. i even gave you a chance to do it!”

they say the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. well same goes for this ‘rumor’ that dohyun is certain haera didn’t just happen to coincidentally hear along the grapevine. you know, the bit about him being an asshole. unsurprisingly, this is not the first time he’s been called one; and unfortunately, it most certainly won’t be his last. really on most days, he’s a self-proclaimed asshole (turns out it’s easier to get through life being one than not). and they say don’t shoot the messenger... but something about how it’s none other than min haera who’s bearing the message doesn’t sit all that nicely with him.

dohyun’s lips press forcibly into a thin, falsely cordial smile. he takes a deep inhale, biting back his tongue before he can spew some stupidly childish and nonsensical comeback he’ll be sure to regret just a few hours from now. instead his response is a low chuckle, a sassy “nah,” as he shakes his head disapprovingly with a touch of his usual theatrics -- as if there’s been some grave misunderstanding that he, of all people, would be labelled as an asshole (hint: there isn’t). it’s the last half-ounce of shame in his being that keeps him from protesting outright, at least before poor junseo gets the chance to excuse himself from the line of fire.

there’s a civil war going on inside his brain - half churning for a witty rebuttal, the other half trying to convince himself that silence was the right answer; that now was a great time to ‘be the bigger person.’ but things never really go according to plan. there’s a half-shudder, half-flinch when he feels her hand plop upon his shoulder, and he shoots her a glare, both challenging and cautionary in nature.

he doesn’t love what he’s hearing, but he distinctly hates the way she says it. oh how badly he wishes he could say something incriminating and stinging back. it’s an impossible spot she puts him in: how he can feel so guilty about the past yet feel so indignant in the present. “really? i don’t know-- doesn’t really feel like you’re giving me a chance to say much of anything, yet alone ‘i missed you’.” he states matter-of-factly.

deja vu.​

{...}

he gives her some shitty excuse, but the words drown in one ear and leave the other – but the message is clear: it’s just for this one show, what’s the big deal. “i heard,” she says, raising her voice just loud enough so that she knows, for a fact, that he’ll catch it. “that he’s kind of an asshole. you sure it’s worth it?”

not like she isn’t one either, but no one has ever said that you need clean hands to play a dirty game.

it goes without saying, but nam dohyun fucks up a lot. mostly he doesn’t mean it, but sometimes he does. often it’s rooted in a lack of sobriety, but unfortunately not exclusively so. so when he gets a random phone call from an old friend, he’s confused but not surprised when junseo hits him with an incriminating ‘hey, remember you owe me one?’

in all honesty, dohyun can’t remember what he possibly could’ve done wrong this time around (but maybe it’s better that he doesn’t). whatever it was, he has no doubts that it was in fact, probably his fault – and junseo seemed desperate enough in his request. so if a quick favor was all it was going to take to pay off his debts, he figures he might as well. feeling indebted, guilty, or like a total asshole was not what he needed any more; not after a recent disastrous reunion with a certain someone, that is.

plus, maybe this substitution gig would be a nice change of pace. pinch-hitting for bands like this was something he used to do more of back in the day; back when he wasn’t known enough for people to associate him with any one act like they now do with ctrl. was it weird how he kinda missed this? just getting to perform without any strings attached? without the often dizzying burden of being ‘frontman’ or having personal stakes on the line, gain or loss? in many ways, it was easier like this – playing whatever random song was on the setlist, chords freshly carved into his memory so that he could hang with whoever else happened to be on-stage with him that day.

well, maybe not whoever – not when whoever turns out to be the one person who’s held a monopoly of torment in his head as of late. the universe could’ve been kind enough to divert their paths, but of course not. who was he kidding, thinking that he’d built up any sort of positive karma with her or anyone else, really.

it doesn’t take long for him to notice when she enters the room; though to his defense, it never takes anyone too long to notice when min haera is around. unsurprisingly, after many years of practice, his initial gut reaction is to flee; but it’s kind of hard to ditch a gig when you’re the one being brought in to sub for the actual ditcher. he loses his place in whatever small talk convo he had been in, making a half-assed joke to excuse himself before drifting over towards haera and junseo. counterintuitive, yes; but he figures it’s better to dive in head first into the water than to later get dragged down underneath.

PRISTINE @ugdohyun

{...} 

“I mean..” Leans forward, looking down at the table, then up at Dohyun again, and then away. Nothing. She means absolutely nothing by it. Just something that crossed her mind while he was gone– when it was nice and quiet for a while. It’s not like he came back intact anyway, if you want to put it that way. 

“Anyway, cheers.” Her own glass is long since empty, and she probably couldn’t even pick it out from the rest if she tried. “I probably need to head back soon, but it was nice of you to invite me along.” 

they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. enter nam dohyun, who drowns his body and soul in liquor every weekend (and sometimes weekdays...), thinking that this time around, his dumb ass won’t make a mortifyingly embarrassing mistake he’ll have to pretend not to regret; or hoping that karma at least be kind enough to spare him of a nasty hangover the next day.

but spoiler alert: he once again embarks on another long night of debauchery. maybe if he had any semblance of self-constraint or self-respect, he’d fumble his way into more favorable outcomes, but alas – he’s long lost count of how many drinks he’s downed. which is funny because he swears he’s been emptying cups at a diligent pace, only for them to somehow re-emerge, filled back to the brim...

in all honesty, he’s actually sort of tired (despite what all appearances would seem to indicate). it comes as a surprise, but nam dohyun is actually not a natural attention whore; just a very talented and well-seasoned one. not that he’d ever tell anyone this, but he might just rather be in bed. and so he decides to take a pitstop at a nearby couch, picking up yet another glass while he’s at it, 

he plops down across from sebin -- that’s her name right? he stares at her rather blatantly, drunken pupils taking an extra moment to focus in the dim, indoor lighting. look, he swears he knows who she is – that girl. the one from... he forgets where exactly, but not from here. the one who makes that dreamy kinda music; the type that sounds even better when he’s high. forgive him, it’s getting increasingly harder to access his memories, let alone do any sort of thinking. 

anyways, it’s a good thing that he’s as shameless as he is; it might just be the only thing that balances out how (secretly) sensitive he is. like right now, it’s not that he doesn’t notice the judgement in sebin’s voice or remarks; it’s just that he just chooses to ignore it and march right along.

{ ... }

she allows herself the luxury of enjoying the added weight to her shoulder, the added warmth he brings that her apartment’s heater just can’t compare to. out of the corner of her eye, she can see his lips stretch in a smile, and despite how much she wants to, she avoids looking over and seeing it directly, knowing she’s too weak to keep her cool if she does. 

“well, when you put it that way,” yongji says, scoffing and curling her arm under his head to pat his cheek, erring just on the edge of a light slap. “maybe you should stay put. i don’t wanna be doing more damage control. i might have an aneurism with all that pressure to save the world.” 

maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the ungodly hour of night, now on the side of being closer to ‘day.’ either way, there’s an intense drowsiness that blankets his limbs and senses, one that makes it so he can’t hear her talking her usual shit at him (though he doesn’t need to hear to know he’s being roasted anyway). his head grows heavier, and he surrenders his weight against her, contently dosing off until she flicks him in the face. his cheek twitches slightly, a delayed reaction that comes a few seconds too late after contact. 

his eyes pry open reluctantly, and he wonders since when it was so damn bright in here. the first few words that come out of his mouth aren’t much of words at all – his voice is raspy and tongue twisted as he just barely grasps onto the last bit of his conscious and manages to speak a language that’s actually comprehensible to other humans. 

“hey. since when were you so... soft?” he grumbles, glancing up at her quizzically before snuggling notably closer. was that a weird thing to say? probably, though how would he have a clue? liquor has wiped away whatever frighteningly thin layer of a filter he had to begin with. besides, if he ever did really cross the line, he’s sure spitfire baek yongji would more than gladly make him pay the consequences.

in that vein, a part of him is waiting for her to dropkick him off the couch at one point or another, though to his pleasant surprise, it doesn’t happen – yet. “kidding. your shoulders are kinda bony,” he remarks with a sly grin as insurance, though his arm slides lower around her torso in a more natural angle, far too much at ease. funny how none of his actual problems have been solved, yet he’s so content on sleeping them off until the next

{...}

“dohyun,” she says through the lump in her throat. it’s been a while since she didn’t decorate his name with barbed wires and profanity. “why are you even here?”

she bares the confusion and a touch of the hurt that has built up, the facades and acts discarded because she truly, with all her heart, cannot understand. can’t comprehend why dohyun is here after so many years of radio silence. why did he wake up today and choose to see her? he never once reached out – not when she left band after band, not when she started dating sungbin and flaunted their relationship for all to see, not when she joined pretty and boys. so, why now? “i don’t understand what you want from me. what do you want me to say?” she pauses. it’s the first time today that she’s been truthful with him. “it’s nice to see you? i missed you?”

it’s always easy to play when you’re ahead; that’s what it was like, once upon a time with min haera. it was easy when all he had to show her was his best. his best days, best performances, best traits – and none of the faults and chasms that lay just underneath the surface. and of course, it was easy when he didn’t know how she really felt; or at least when he could still pretend he didn’t. it was even easier when he didn’t have to tell her how he felt, because he didn’t know enough words to say ‘i’m sorry i don’t feel the same way’ or ‘i’m afraid i do’ without actually saying them just like that.

it was easier when all he had to tell her were nice things – about how well she played that last song or how nice she looked that day, or what amazing (that is, stupid) idea he had for their next date outing. none of these difficult questions that he should’ve learned how to answer long ago. ones that came inbound from his acquaintances and friends alike, like ‘are you guys dating or something?’ or ‘do you actually like her?’. ones he couldn’t just get by flashing a glittering smile or making an absurd comment, the two-punch that makes up the nam dohyun special. it turns out he’s only a slugger when pitched softballs.

all too unfortunate, because life (especially as of late) loves to chuck nasty curve balls and slippery sinkers at him – and he’s the one dumb enough to keep doing this: taking wild swings with zero aim or reason. he wish he knew how to answer her ultimatum of a question. why are you even here? the question rings in his ears, body going still as stone under her grasp on his wrist, something he didn’t ever think he’d feel again; yet he doesn’t break away.

he struggles to form a coherent answer, which is what he figures she deserves from him at the least. were it just up to him, he’d opt for a distressed scream into the void, but he figures that can wait until he’s drunk some other night this weekend, out of sight and out of mind. she hits him with another strike before he gets to answer the first. ‘what do you want me to say? it’s nice to see you? i missed you?’ he visibly winces at the potential answers she proposes and wishes he could say with more certainty when he quickly shoots back his reply.

“no. of course not,” voiced neither in a combative nor defensive manner; just as a matter of fact, which betrays the fact that it feels like his heart is beating in his throat. he meets her eyes for the first time in a while, thinking it’d help bolster his fortitude but realizing all too quickly that it’s having the opposite effect. his brows furrow before he heaves a silent sigh. “i don’t know, haera.” he says her name with resolve, as if it makes up for all the times he went out of his way to avoid her these past few years – which was a rather impressive feat, given how small the hongdae indie scene really was. 

{...}

 “so now what? you’re gonna spend the next week… two weeks… maybe month moping around, thinking about haera, wondering ‘what if’, and wondering if you should or shouldn’t ‘accidentally’ end up at a pretty show again? maybe i should set up the futon, since you’ll be coming over every time you make another shitty decision at two in the morning, set up a nice little corner in my apartment where you can throw up and nurse your next ten hangovers.” 

with a sigh, yongji drops her half-eaten chocolate bar onto the coffee table, sinking back into the cushions of her sofa, feeling uncharacteristically… defeated. 

“is there are reason why you always end up here when you make bad decisions, or is that not something i should be asking?”

he has an uncanny tendency for saying and doing before thinking. correction: without thinking. fortunately for him, his stubborn refusal to regret usually softens the fall. but this time, even dohyun realizes that whatever just came out of his mouth could be misconstrued in a rather incriminating way. 

his arms cross over his chest in partial defiance and partial defense, and he sits still like stone minus the occasional furrowing of his brows when he hears something he doesn’t agree with or particularly like. really he just wants to take back certain statements made as of late, redact them before they are committed to memory. the task feels like forcing a phonebook through a measly paper shredder. but that won’t stop him from trying.

“also what’d you say about me? moping? who’s moping?” he flinches unknowingly – turns out hypocrisy so atrocious stings the offender. “i can’t mope over a girl i banished into the shadow realm.” (amazing, how mature of a euphemism he opts to go with for ‘was a complete asshole to’). “mind you, it’s been years since we’ve even said a word to each other.” the certainty in his voice is an effort to convince himself as well. a brief pause as he racks his muddled brain for further justification, but what follows comes out in a softer tone, more confused. “plus, it’s not like we even dated... whatever this is right now, it’s probably just guilt.” he hopes.

he shuts up, not because he’s satisfied, but because the more he thinks and simultaneously talks about this, it’s getting even worse. the last question she leaves him isn’t an easy one to respond to either, so he frowns slightly (why can’t she just throw him softballs for once?). but it’s a tangent out of this spiraling sinkhole, so he’ll take it.

{ ... }

the slightest hint of regret pokes at her, but she washes it down with soju and chocolate before it can manifest into anything tangible enough that she’ll need to address it. yongji’s eye drift over to her ramen, now probably lukewarm at best, noodles probably bloated and mushy. she reaches for it anyway, eating a mouthful to avoid having to bask in the silence that washes over her apartment, then takes a bite of chocolate. it’s a strange combination of flavours that makes no sense, but when does anything make sense — especially when it comes to anything between her and dohyun? 

“i’m not mad.” she wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, stares down at the smudge of red sauce instead of looking at dohyun. “i mean, i am — obviously. but… i just… why the fuck would you do that? haera… of all people!”

against all expectations, she tells him to sit back down, and for a few seconds he stands there like he’s stuck on eternal buffering. belatedly, the shame of throwing a mini-tantrum is washing over him, and it’s something he could really do without. maybe it would’ve been nicer if she had kicked him out on the spot. heaving a deep sigh, he does descend back onto the couch, but buries his face into his hands shortly after. it’s disgraceful. he hates being petty, but clearly he’s rather talented at it. good thing the only witness around has already seen much worse from him.

there’s a noticeable drop in volume, but the rebukes keep coming. fortunately for dohyun, words flow in one ear and straight out the other. maybe it’s the alcohol; or maybe it’s a nifty little self-defense mechanism. even just now, he thinks she might be insulting him (why would his face only be his second favorite part of his body?), but his swamped brain can’t tell for sure. whatever it is, he figures he should cut the moping act. it’s making it seem almost like... he cares. and why the fuck would nam dohyun care?

“why would i go to hyeju’s?” he grumbles, raising his head now to glance at her beside him. “obviously i’d just go home.” as if that explains why he’s sitting on her couch now, at who knows what ungodly hour of day. he keeps stealing glances as she eats her... peculiar combination of foods. but his headspace is too pre-occupied to pass any judgement.

‘i’m not mad.’ it’s this statement that makes him commit his attention to her full-time. he turns towards her, brows raising and face contorting into utter disbelief because on what planet was she just now not ‘mad’? but the question that follows throws him for a loop strong enough that he doesn’t even get the chance to call her out for her blatant lie. he wonders if she realizes she’s setting the stage up for him to start listing positive qualities of her self-proclaimed nemesis. or maybe it was a trap, elaborately laid out so that she can kill him without remorse now. either way, he’s not that much of an idiot... he thinks.

“what do you mean ‘why would i do that’? that, as in like someone?” shit, did he just admit he liked haera? it leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth, and he reaches out, snatching the opened bottle of soju from her to clear palette. unsurprisingly, it tastes terrible (like any drink does, too many in), but it takes the edge off, shoves the overwhelming sense of guilt back down under. he wants to point out that all this happened before the pab catastrophe, but figures that would go against his newly established position of ‘it makes no difference’.

{ ... }

when he talks about ctrl, haera scoffs. “who said i wanted to see you on stage?” the words come off harsher than she intends it to be and she immediately regrets the sharp cut of her tone, because being mean means she’s being wounded by his words and that shows him that she still cares and if she still cares means that dohyun still has a fucking upper hand. “i mean,” she collects herself before forcing an empty, hollow laugh. she’s pretty and boys’ bassist, she’s imperturbable. unruffled. composed. she breaks their hearts and never the other way around. “sorry, that’s not really my kind of music. plus, i don’t chase boys anymore.”

there are distinct stages in the evolution of a failed relationship, and the ultimate form is apathy. he knows because he’d seen it with his parents, documented through doe-like, child eyes. at first there are fights – screaming, yelling, tearing each other apart because you can. but it turns out that even venomous words and spiteful actions lose their novelty the hundredth time around. eventually the forces retreat from the front line of conflict leaving behind nothing but a still void, and the deafening silence that settles over the debris says so much more than any combination of pointed words, accusations, and insults ever can. 

so when haera claims with so much certainty that she’s never thought of him at all, he wonders if whatever they once had too has already transcended into the domains of apathy. perhaps time does heal all wounds – even ones afflicted to the heart – and he doesn’t know whether to be grateful or not. was it a good thing that he never got the chance to apologize while it still mattered? 'cause what says he wouldn’t have opted for cowardice the easy way out once again? and was it a good thing if they were past the point of no return? with no room to throw around those maddeningly frightening ‘what if’s’ and ‘what could have been’s’?

for a moment he’s convinced this is the case; that his spontaneous decision to drop by here didn’t make a difference either way, just like her little ‘shoutout’ hadn’t meant much either. but the longer he stands here, ears tuning to the once-familiar sound of her voice, eyes to the way the uneven backstage lighting falls on her too-familiar face, he’s starting to have his qualms. maybe he doesn’t deserve to say this anymore, and maybe time has changed them both to be mere shells of who they used to be, but he thinks he still knows min haera better than most – and he knows what it’s like when something (that is, he) is bothering her.

her last statement nearly confirms his doubts – because it stings, bites, and sticks, far too much to have come from someone who really doesn’t care. and for once, he doesn’t think it’s just him being sensitive; nor is it because someone’s not complimentary of his music. for once, he actually couldn’t care less. there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach, a bitter taste in his mouth. maybe this is what he gets for thinking he could stroll back here to quell his own sense of guilt and make it out unscathed. ‘i don’t chase boys anymore.’ it feels so out of the blue, yet he can’t just brush it off because... fuck, was this what he was hoping for deep inside? what drew him back here, face-to-face with her after all this time?

he can only blink in response, unreadable gaze fixed upon hers because he doesn’t know where else to look. and maybe he’ll find the answers he’s looking if he searches her eyes long enough. meanwhile his arm comes up to rub behind his neck like he has a habit of doing when uneasy. “that’s... not what i meant, haera.” it really wasn’t. but he doesn’t know what he meant instead either. his tone of voice isn’t defensive nor hurt. just finally flat; sunken and stripped of it’s usual sureness. and he flinches because shit, why does her name feel so foreign rolling off his tongue like this? 

“i just-- never mind.” a rarity it is, for dohyun to stammer over his words like this. on most days, he’d rather pull bullshit words out of thin air than be left at a loss for them – but he bites down on his bottom lip, not feeling entitled to spew half-assed excuses right now. a few seconds pass in stillness like this, but it feels like ages. and unsurprisingly, there is no magic solution. no way to convey how he really feels, how he ever really felt.

❱❭ serendipity

{ ... }

          “damn, it’s only been ten days? i can never get enough of a break from you,” sohee has her eyes narrowed at him as she speaks, a contemptuous front she’s learnt to put on whenever she wants to drive someone away. (it hasn’t worked on him so far.) “as always, i’m going to pick the lesser of two evils, which is listening to your day,” sohee relents, though it’s not like she even bothered putting up a fight, and a sigh slips past her lips. “and you’ve clearly got more of a knack for talking than i do. so go on, hit me with it.” and it’s true━she’s convinced that, if given a chance to, he’d probably be able to talk for three days straight. though, contrary to the outward appearance she fabricates, it’s not really like she’s complaining. there’s a strange comfort in spending time together with dohyun like this, a sense of familiarity sohee just can’t seem to ever fully make sense of.

contrary to popular opinion, nam dohyun isn’t as one-dimensionally unbothered and self-absorbed as he comes off. although he seems utterly unfazed by third-party judgement and blissfully oblivious to his surroundings, this couldn’t be farther from the truth. it’s not that he doesn’t notice the storm around him (in fact, he probably notices a whole lot more than you’d ever imagine); it’s just that it’s a whole damn easier to pretend like he doesn’t. after all, there are no questions asked, no qualms raised, and no suspicions aimed at a man who just doesn’t seem to care.

but dohyun does notice things. in fact, he notices even the little things. like how she rolls her eyes at him (with an impressive amount of disgust at that) but pays him her attention time after time again. or how the corners of her lips sneak up ever so slightly when he does another stupid thing (which unfortunately for both him and her, is rather often). and of course, how she gawks at him like he’s spewing absolute nonsense, yet takes the time to respond to everything he says. so yeah, despite what all visible signs suggest, dohyun is pretty convinced baek sohee doesn’t hate him nearly as much as she thinks she does. 

“wonderful! thought you’d never ask,” he goads with a wide grin. clearly it was he who asked and not her, but never mind that. he scoots the glass closer to himself, giving her a single nod as an acknowledgment of gratitude. “well to start, i woke up.” duh. “not to my alarm, or because i had anywhere to be or anything – but because i was so goddamn hungry.” he sounds way too proud saying this and breaks to take a long sip of his drink, raising his eyebrows at her because it’s more of a kick than he remembered.

“i would’ve made myself something to eat, but then i remember i actually do have somewhere to be. rehearsal. and i can’t be late, 'cause i’m pretty sure my bandmates are just a few ticks of patience away from kicking me out of the band.” he’s only being half-sarcastic. and he’d detail more about rehearsal but remembers who he’s talking to and who else happens to be in his band; weighs the odds in his erratic brain, and decides to fast-forward. “but yeah, rehearsal’s great. of course, i fuck up zero times.”

another large sip, and the glass is nearly drained; but hey, he’s been hard carrying the talking, which is how their bar-side ‘conversations’ usually end up being. “afterwards i finally grab a bite from a food truck nearby. the ahjumma serves me extra beef, ‘cause i’m cute or something.” he takes the gamble and flashes sohee a shameless wink, just hoping she won’t kick him out of the bar for it. “and then...” his brows furrow, trying to recall anything of value in his bland ass day. “i think my mom called? like four times actually, but i don’t pick up. it’s probably shocking to you, but i’m... not that great of a son.”

All of this is not common. Geon knows it, and Dohyun knows it. Even with sleep in his eyes, Dohyun appears startled by this sight — the aftermath of an unfamiliar rampage. Dohyun’s raspy reassurance tells Geon that he was probably woken up by the noise (a part of him was willing to bet the man’s on his phone instead of sleeping like what he’d claimed he’d do). In the short silence as Dohyun makes his way over, and his feelings have begun their descent to a state of calm, Geon feels a tinge of guilt.

Dohyun’s generosity doesn’t deserve to be reciprocated with a broken mug and a coffee-stained rug. All of a sudden, Mother’s voice begins to lecture him in his head.

I brought you up with the right fucking morals. You better pay Dohyun for all of his things that you’ve ruined! Poor boy ended up with a freeloader for a bandmate. Geon sighs. Perhaps, it’s time for him to call for one of her motherly naggings.

“I don’t disappoint. And I don’t do crappy songs.” Geon retorts sharply while desperately fighting off a smile at the latter’s words. Leave it to Dohyun to make the problems of the world relevant to him. He doesn’t deny him, though. Dohyun doesn’t even have to try being charismatic. Being born with a magnetic presence, Geon would say that he’s the one calling people to their band. One can’t get enough of Dohyun.

Of course, he’ll never fucking tell him that.

“You know, maybe this is a good thing.” Gruffly, he sits up, looks at the other’s smaller stature over his shoulder, “I didn’t know how to tell you what I feel about the damned rug. Old thing looks like a flattened poodle.

I can’t give the band a good song now, but I can give you a nicer rug-”

dohyun doesn’t believe in good guys and bad guys; they’re all one and the same when put in the right or wrong circumstances. but geon? geon might just be one of the closest to a ‘good guy’ he knows of. forget whatever juvenile delinquencies he claims to have committed in his past. there’s something that’s just... good about geon. in the vibes, in the mannerisms, in the steadfastness and dedication. whatever it is, it’s beyond a need for proof or digging into one’s past. dohyun knows his friend is a good man, and that’s that.

that’s what makes this outburst so out of the blue; though not in a legitimately concerning way or anything. geon can throw a hellish tantrum all he wants — dohyun knows it’s not coming from a malicious place. so he’s not about to guilt trip his friend (he knows firsthand too well about how shitty that feels to consciously do it to someone else)... but he might take the liberty to do a little something that he’d never get away with otherwise.

dohyun crosses his arms across his chest, wipes the easy grin off his face in exchange for an uncompromising scowl. yeah, he knows he’s not a scary dude by traditional means; but he’s been told before that he looks somewhat intimidating when not smiling (a nicer way of saying he actually has a resting bitch face), so he might as well try it out now.

 “park jungwoo.” he says the older boy’s name — real name — like a displeased parent (ah yes, nam dohyun knows this tone all too well). but his nose scrunches up moments after, at once regretting the choice. the novelty of it is fun and all that, but the syllables in combination feel foreign in his mouth and not all that satisfying (and briefly he wonders whether he’ll be next in line for the target of geon’s wrath; clearly he enjoys living life on the edge).

“ugh,” he groans, face contorting as if he’s bitten into something sour. ”well that was sufficiently uncomfortable.” before long, the slick grin is back on his lips, just where it usually belongs. “there. let’s just call it even. one shitty act for another.” he steps closer to give geon a good-natured jab on the arm.