First Year Of Hogwarts | BTS Hogwarts AU

First Year of Hogwarts | BTS Hogwarts AU

Namjoon and Seokjin became friends since day one. Study buddies, and table partners. Have had several disputes because they have different strategies on same topics, but things normally calmed down during meal times

Namjoon is first in all his classes and within Gryffindor itself, even for a first year.

Seokjin had mediated a few random disputes between Gryffindor first years a couple times. When Namjoon saw his friend was stepping in, he didn’t hesitate to back him up and give a little input himself.

Seokjin and Namjoon’s favorite past time was meal times and sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor common room

Taehyung immediately found Jimin on the very first morning. Already bridging gaps between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Table partners when Hufflepuff and Gryffindor have class together. Would’ve been good study partners too, if they studied at all.

Jungkook and Hoseok stuck pretty closely for most of the year. At first, Hoseok had to approach Jungkook proactively. Jungkook was pretty timid, but he eventually found Hoseok to be a good and lovable companion.

Jungkook will act rashly and protectively when anyone ever teases Hoseok

Hoseok tends to do things on a whim and constantly pulls Jungkook to join him

Jimin and Hoseok were the most sociable of the entire Hufflepuff house, so they easily found each other as kindred spirits

Jungkook always trailed behind Hoseok and Jimin, but the pair would grab Jungkook and have him stand in the middle.

As fun and active as Hoseok and Taehyung are, Jimin has moments where he likes to hang out with shy little Jungkook. 

Yoongi spent his first year pretty quietly and secluded. Despite his ambitions to prove people wrong, being in the Slytherin environment might have made him even harder to approach.

He discovered the Room of Requirement and kept the information to himself. Constantly disappeared after meal times to be in there, away from the Slytherin commons.

Top marks in the Slytherin first years

Yoongi sees the two Hufflepuff acquaintances hanging out in the meal times and often contemplates on how to further their friendship.

Hoseok never forgot about Yoongi though. He can see that Yoongi is pretty closed off by the rest of the Slytherin table because Yoongi comes off pretty arrogant to the rest of the first years in that house.

Hoseok would make friendly converstations with him and be his table partner during the Hufflepuff/Slytherin classes. Of course, he would make sure that Jimin was with Jungkook first.

Flying lessons

Hoseok was actually pretty scared to be on brooms since he was a kid. His parents not around made him even more nervous, but he saw how easily Jungkook got a handle on it and he instantly wanted to join his friend in the air. With a friend, he felt more at ease being in the air and soon felt confident enough to soar independently.

Seokjin loved flying since he was a kid so it was pretty easy. He was one of the more excited first years

Namjoon never cared for being on a broom, but he was adequate on it, only because he felt like he needed to know. In the first lesson, his broom would not move at all; turns out Taehyung was charming it to do so. Namjoon saw past that and had Taehyung’s broom wack himself in the face.

Taehyung held a grudge until one day he blew up his frustration to Jimin about it. Jimin pointed out Taehyung was first at fault, causing the boy to reevaluate himself. He apologized to Namjoon later that day. Namjoon also apologized for his own actions and invited him to eat with him and Seokjin for dinner.

Jimin was nervous because it was his first time on the broom, but when he finally kicked off in the air, after a few close calls, he took to it very well and would not come down when Madam Hooch told him flying class was over.

Yoongi did everything fast. He had the broom in his hand before Madam Hooch gave orders to everyone to say “up!” He got on the broom faster than the other first years and kicked off the moment he heard the whistle.

A/N: Previously, I had the Quidditch portion in their first year, until I realized that first years aren’t allowed to participate in Quidditch. Harry Potter is just annoyingly special like that. So I moved it to year two. I’m just being a perfectionist and as authentic as possible, sorry!

Next year

Canceled | Taehyung

Summary line: Sometimes plans must be canceled, but that doesn’t stop either of you from trying

He sighed as he pressed the speed dial button. Your name, face, and number appeared on the screen as his phone was connecting to yours. He stared lovingly at your picture until you picked up. He put the phone up to his ear.

“Hello, Tae!” Your voice was so cheery, it nearly broke him.

“Hey, Y/N…” By the sound of his voice, you already knew what he was going to say.

“You know what? My manager emailed me about half an hour ago about something I have to do. I was conflicted myself with how I should organize my time. Now I don’t have to.” You rambled on of the reason that tonight is a bust on your part. But what your manager asked of you was actually really small; it would have taken you half an hour, at most, to do what he asked.

“I’m sorry. I know you really wanted this tonight.” You mumbled. He put a hand up to his face. He called to apologize for his absence, and here you were trying to save his face and apologize for what wasn’t even your fault.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m the one who has to break the date in the first place.” V looked down and shuffled his feet.

“Don’t even worry about it. You work so hard! I’m just sad for you that you don’t get a break.” You shook your head even though he couldn’t see it. You covered the mouthpiece and blew the candles.

“Do you have food over there? Do you want me to bring you anything?” you asked.

“No, it’s fine. We have food here.” He sighed. And besides, seeing you would probably make him excuse himself from working and then make him feel guilty the next morning that his work wasn’t done.

“Alright. I’ll still see you when you get home though. I hope you don’t have to work too late.” You said. You both said your goodbyes.

Later that night…

He finally dragged his feet through the thresholds of your home. It was finally time for him to call it a night. The first room to his left was the kitchen and dining area. He peered in. It was very clean, almost the same way it looked when he left. Almost.

He saw lingering traces of what would have been a wonderful night. Used candlesticks were pushed aside to the corner of the counter. Pots and pans were all on the drying rack. Wrappers, empty packages, and food skins were piled up in the garbage can. You were probably completely set when he called you. You probably even had a dress on. He would never know. You wouldn’t even tell him, lest he be upset with himself.

He didn’t eat during practice. His mood was so low and he didn’t want to eat anything else but your food.

He went to the fridge to see if there was anything left. It was bittersweet to see all the food you made tonight in storage. If he was able to make it, he would have left nothing for leftovers. The food was prepared and the candles were lit. You looked beautiful and gussied up. The only thing missing from the picture was him. He grabbed the food and heated it up. He wished that he could have tasted it when it was still fresh and warm.

When the food was heated up, he took it out of the microwave and shuffled to the living room. When he got there, he was surprised to see you still awake, watching a movie.

“Hey.” You said lightly and quietly since it was really late. He came over to you and sat down next to you and put the plate of food on the coffee table. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in, nuzzling your neck.

“I’m sorry for tonight.” He mumbled.

“Oh, no. Are you still upset about that? Don’t be!” You pulled away from him and turned your body to his, tucking your legs under you. You took his face in your hands and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“I was able to finish my work too. It’s all good.” You smiled. You looked at the plate of food and looked at the clock. It was past midnight already.

“Didn’t you eat already? Is it okay for you to eat even if it’s past midnight?” You asked with your face filled with concern.

“I didn’t want anything they had. I’ll be fine.” He took the plate and started eating. He grinned for the first time that night and looked at you with his mouth full.

“This is really good!” He said with his mouth full. You laughed and told him to take it easy.

“I can’t take it easy! I’m hungry and this is amazing.” He slowed down though as he kept thinking how you had prepared everything. He wondered if he went to the bedroom that he would see a dress in a puddle on the floor.

He finished his food and cuddled with you as you finished watching the rest of the movie. Even as the credits rolled, you two aimlessly stared at the TV. You were thinking about nothing and was too lazy to get up and stop the movie. He was too busy thinking.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He said randomly. You turned your head to look him. You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m fine. Really.” You emphasized.

“Yeah, well I’m not fine. My girlfriend prepared a wonderful night and I couldn’t pull through a choreography right all day and I had to stay later to practice.” He pouted and furrowed his eyebrows. You pouted too and rubbed his eyebrows away from each other.

“You know that if you abandoned Bangtan, even for one night, you’d regret it the next day. Don’t regret putting in hard work. ARMY loves the efforts you put in and I’m proud of you all the time. This is one night out of many we’re going to have, okay? Don’t be hard on yourself. I’m not.” You comforted him. He gave a half-hearted smile at your words. You felt like it wasn’t enough so you did aegyo.

“Don’t worry, oppa! I still love you!” You said in a cute voice. There was his rectangular smile. You gave him a kiss and figured that would be the end of it.

Later that week…

 You finally got home and took off your shoes. Taehyung was going to be home in two hours. After a day and a half of him still blaming himself, you decided to try the night again.

There was a good chance that he might not be able to make it again, but that wouldn’t matter. This wasn’t for you anyway. This was for him and his mopey-dopey head. And this time, if he didn’t make it, you were going to make sure that you left absolutely no trace that you had this planned.

You had all the groceries in hand as you came into the kitchen and found a set table with candles lit and everything. This looked exactly as it did a couple nights ago when you did it! How did he even know?

You looked up to see a very handsome V, dressed nicely, and with drinks in his hand.

“Great minds think alike. Yours is just a little faster.” You raised your grocery bags up and smiled. He grinned too and put down the glasses. He came over to you and gave you a kiss while taking your grocery bags out of your hand.

“These can be saved for another day. Go change.” He said as he started to put away your groceries. You stood there for a bit to admire the man you had before listening to him to get changed.

You came out and saw him set down warm plates of food he’d been keeping heated in the oven. Since it was only a couple days ago that you guys had your food, he would make something else, with help from his brothers of course. God knows he was the least adept in cooking out of everyone.

“Y/N….you are absolutely stunning.” He stuttered. Is this what he missed a couple days ago?

“I didn’t have much time to freshen up though. I didn’t want the food to get cold.” You felt that you weren’t nearly as pretty as you were a couple days ago. But if you said that, he would blame himself again.

“What’s for dinner?” You took a step to look at your meal. He pulled out your chair for you and you sat down.

“This is a recommendation from head chef Jin. Accompanied by sous chef, Jungkook, kitchen assistants Suga and Jimin. With the lovely and wonderful kitchen supervisor, V. That’s me.” He pointed to himself and gave you his grin.

You laughed at his silliness. His definition of kitchen supervisor was a look-over-your-shoulder-because I’m-bored person who was also a food taster.

He sat down across from you and handed you a menu card next to the candle. You took it and looked through it, pretending to be a dignified food critic. You pursed your lips together with your hand rubbing your chin as you pretended to critique his menu.

“Mm…these food choices match up really well. I’m looking forward to the main course and your dessert. I hope it tastes as good as it sounds.” You looked over to him with a very pretentious look. He grinned at your playful behavior.

“Oh, only the best for my favorite customer.” He poured more juice into your glass. Even though you two were legal, one thing you both agreed on was that alcohol wasn’t your cup of tea.

“You have created a beautiful night and made it up by ten-fold.” You assured him as you raised your glass to him. He raised his to yours and clinked it, also giving his own animated “clink”-ing sound.

Hi! This is a new blog for korean centric writings :) I'd like to work on my skills and monitor my progress as a writer so your support is much appreciated. More info can be found in my intro post so do check out my blog and have a nice day! 😄

Hey everyone,

Like me, this blog wants to work on their creativity on many different groups, more than just BTS. Check it out! 

I don’t plan on helping people do shout outs, 1) because I don’t have that tumblr power to influence so many people. 2) I don’t like doing tedious things, which doing shout outs is extremely tedious and I’m probably going to end up saying the same thing. 3) I prefer to keep my blog clean to having just asks, requests, comments and love, and my writing. I’ve slipped up a couple times, writing and reblogging things that people actually would probably enjoy, but I took it down and reblogged it to my personal blog so this blog keeps clean of all that. I think I still have some, but I’m too lazy to look through the rest of it, sorry. I’ll do my best to keep it clean at this point on. Even though people might enjoy them, I’m just not the type to want that on my blog. This blog is creative writing really.

Decided to do this shout out because it’s the first one I’ve received. Although the writer didn’t specifically ask for it, I guess it’s a good time as any to make this. Also, I respect that they want to progress their creative writing as well and they make an effort to reach out to others and I don’t. If you are to ask for a shout out, I will not. At most, I’ll follow you and tell you in private that I will not be shouting out.

Have a good day!

Phantom | Yoongi

Summary line: Inspired by Phantom of the Opera

Your breath shakes as you hear his voice, “Again.”

His voice is nothing more than a whisper, but somehow, it felt like it encompasses your whole person as his voice reverberates off the stone walls of this….his…labyrinth.

In a little over four months of training here, your overseer took you to an unexplored corner of this building. There was a small hallway that was rarely used. It led to an unexpected large room. You weren’t sure whether it was built before or after the rest of the building. The feel of this place had a sense of history, like only old souls lurk in this area. It was dark and reflective. But it was very clear that the architect of this place knew modern principles to architecture, but applied it to an old style. You weren’t sure how old could mix in with the new, but it worked so well. The architecture was ambitious and complex. You praised the architect in your mind.

“Someone wants to meet you. Stay here. He will not show up right away but you are to stay here until he does. If you get bored, sing.” And with that, your overseer left you there. You wandered around the room, running your hand on walls as you walked along them.

If you get bored, sing. Why not? It’s the reason why you came here. Since no one was around, you felt free to do what you want. You started to sing songs, not the songs you guys practice night and day, it got boring. You sang songs that reminded you of home. You sang your favorite songs in which the lyrics could never leave your memories. They were the songs where you could bring about your deepest feelings. After 3 hours of singing by yourself, you got bored again. So you switched it up. Rather than singing seriously, you played around. You purposely sang off-key, unnecessarily belting out the song in awkward tones and voices.

“Don’t do that. If you’re going to sing. Sing seriously.” You heard a voice. This voice sounded like it came from overhead. But there were no amplifiers, no speakers. Where did this voice come from?

The voice was raspy but obviously a boy’s, a teenager’s. Low and sounded harsh, like he himself had trained his voice until it was on the verge of breaking.

No matter, you wanted to escape. Whoever he was, he wasn’t showing himself and you had no idea how long he’s been here.

You ran to the door and swung it open. But it wasn’t the hallway you came from anymore. You looked back. The room had two doors. Did you get the doors wrong? Your heart beat faster when you believed in your mistake. You quickly shut this one and went to the other one. You opened it up. No, it was not the hallway. How did this happen?

“What do you want?” You asked, looking up but had no direction to face.

“I like your voice. It’s better than the rest of the trainees thus far. I’ve seen many, many trainees come and go. Your voice is the first that has really caught my attention. I’ve decided that I want to give you extra practice, more training. With me as your trainer.” A chill ran up your spine. You couldn’t see the owner of the voice and apparently you can’t leave.

“Please, let me out.” You shook the doorknob. Tears filled your eyes.

“You haven’t even finished exploring and you’re already ready to cry?” He asked surprised. He was right. He seems mean to keep you here, but you were the one not checking if he was really keeping you here. Since you were closer to the second room, you went to that one first. The next room just led to a different hallway with two other doors. Bathroom through one door, a room with a white grand piano on the other. There was nothing more.

In the first room, had one other door. You opened it up to a hallway. It led to some sort of indoor courtyard. Cobblestone floors and an empty pond in the middle. Surrounding the courtyard were many arches that led to different hallways, none that were familiar though. There were staircases that went up and down the place. On floors above, you saw open arches one would fall off the side if they weren’t paying attention to where they were going. But there were ways to get yourself from one open entrance to another, even if suspended in air. What was this place? This couldn’t be the same trainers ground you came from.

You soon forgot about the boy’s voice, you were more curious about the place. You explored. But you could never make a map in your head. After exploring one place, you would search another to find that it was the exact place you previously explored. And when you turned back, something new was there. This place was impossible. But it was, you could see it.

It seemed that you had forgotten about him. He couldn’t bear to think that you weren’t thinking about him anymore. So he started to play. He gave you something to do. Something to find.

You were exploring a hallway, you don’t remember how long you’ve been here. But you faintly heard a piece of music. A piece you’ve never heard before. But it brought you a sense of familiarity, a sense of compatibility. There were no words, just music. And it was entrancing.

You rushed back out to the courtyard and looked around, searching for the origin of the music. It felt like it came from everywhere. The moment you thought it came from one direction, pulling you that way, your ears perked as it heard the music originate from another hallway. The longer it played, the more obsessed you became.

You tried to focus outside of the music. If it was a trick, then you wouldn’t let yourself fall. You would aimlessly search every hallway, even though your ears heard it grow farther and farther away. You didn’t feel like you could trust your ears anymore. It was terrifying to have a sense that you felt you couldn’t trust anymore.

There were too many hallways. You collapsed out of exhaustion. But you didn’t want to give up. But you stopped to breath. He didn’t like that.

The music stopped and you whined for it, clawing yourself up from the cobblestone floors and the music started again. He was playing you like a toy. You were crying as you ran around. Not sure whether you should trust your ears again. This was going nowhere and you kept going back to the same places. You couldn’t come up with any recognizable pattern of how this place could change, you couldn’t even understand it, but you just chose to accept it.

“Give it to me. Please.” You sobbed after you came back from the last hallway you could explore, at least you thought you’ve run through every hallway, even if they ended up the same. You felt so desperate to be close to the origin. Wherever it came from, it would be the place where you could hear it best, learn it properly.

You heard a cackle and you shivered.

“Are you cold?” He asked curiously. You shook your head.

“You will learn from me. And only when I think you’re ready, you may have this piece. I will not give it to you until you have completed my song.” Complete his song?

“I have a song. But you’re not ready to sing it. I need to train you. You will learn from me. And only me. Your other vocal trainers will only unravel all my hard work and hinder your improvement. You may go back for choreography though. I have nothing to teach you in that aspect.” This boy sounded like he was around your age, or at least couldn’t have been old. Why did he act like he had such authority? Even your overseer gave off a sense of awestruck fear. One you felt as well.

“Show yourself!” You cried out. You couldn’t stand just talking to a voice. You felt crazy. And so, he wouldn’t talk anymore. He didn’t respond to you for so long. You got angry and stomped into a random hallway, trying to blow off some steam and not be idle, or else silent fear will crawl back. Only when you recognized another human being, a staff of the trainers ground, you realized, that hallway was the one you first entered.

**

A couple days later, you shamefully returned. It was easy to find the courtyard, probably because he wanted you to. You turned around to look, the hallway was still there.

“I will learn from you. I want that piece. And I will have it.” You called out. Nothing. You sat at the edge of the pond and swung your legs inside. Even though it was empty. You aimlessly kicked your feet as you waited. Waited so long, your patience and confidence were starting to waver. He seemed like one of those “one chance” types. But if that was the case, you wouldn’t have been able to find the courtyard again. But the hallway –

It was gone.

“First of all, everything your trainers have taught you so far, forget it. You’re lucky you have natural talent that they haven’t completely shaved away yet.” His voice. But not his person. You sighed, you might never know what he looks like.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“What do you think it is?” He countered. It was a very strange question, for you’ve never heard anyone ask what they think their name is.

“You’re a phantom.” Your answer was met by silence for a good minute. You turned to look around if you could see the first hallway again. You didn’t.

“Phantom it is.”

This went on for years. Every day, you have dance lessons. Every night, you have vocal lessons with the Phantom. Every piece you practice here, it is an original, from him. You learn that he is a composer. He is the architect of this place. He is a magician of sorts and you can’t help but be fascinated. But that just makes him all the more arrogant.

Your overseer clearly knows where you disappear off to every night. But she doesn’t say anything. She is the one who brought you there in the first place, of course she knows where you went. She probably knows him. Him and his strange ways of communication and his labyrinth.

The rest of the girls start to notice your empty bed every now and then. They start to tease you, exclude you, single you out.

“I bet it’s a manager. It’s the reason why they keep giving her most of the solos.”

“I heard she started from the janitor and worked her way up. Disgusting.”

Their words are unbearable to your poor sensitive heart. All you want is to perform. And to have a song. But no matter what anyone gossips about, they never dare to acknowledge the truth. You are truly the star pupil. Your singing is the best of all of them.

Once you entered the courtyard with tears threatening to fall. He asked you what was wrong and you blew up. Talking about one of the girls who had the audacity to stir the rumor that you let yourself be passed around by managers. She had the poorest voice, you weren’t even sure why she stayed. By the end of your spout, he would calmly ask the name of the girl. And you carelessly gave it. You didn’t know that it was all he needed.

The next day, the girl had disappeared. The overseer told the girls that she packed her bags and left at the crack of dawn. You knew why though. You saw her leave. You saw her leaving and as she looked back at the building, you saw tears burning a large scar on her face. A scar so terrible, it looked like a wide rip in a painting. That day on, you never told him of your frustrations. Fear shook you to the core.

He is a perfectionist alright. He is ruthless and relentless when it comes to teaching you. You are not allowed to sleep until you surpass his goals for the day. He finds ways to wake you up without the music when you’re dozing off during lessons. He will maliciously call you names worse than anything the girls have ever said to you. You get frustrated and so would he. Sometimes he will be so hard on you, you run out crying, but he won’t let you leave. You can run around with tears streaming down your face, but you can never leave. Not until you finish your lesson. Somehow, the layout of the place will always change. Every room is familiar to you by now, but never in the same place unless he allows it. You want to know how he does it, but you won’t ask questions you know will be fruitless. All you can do is get tired and go back to the practice room when you exhaust yourself from your frustrations. He is so rude and arrogant.

But at times, there are tender moments.

Sometimes, you get so tired after the vocal lessons, you will just end up resting in one of the rooms you find has a bed. It is clearly unused by anyone else, so you use it. The first night you stumble upon it, the bed was just a mattress. But you were too tired to care. You just kicked off your shoes and flopped there. The next time you found it, the mattress was dressed in sheets, blankets, and pillows.

Before the crack of dawn, faint music will reach your ears. In your subconsciousness, you can recognize it as the piece you crave. The moment you feel conscious again, the music will stop. Even if you pretend to stay asleep, he somehow has a sixth sense about your wakefulness, always cutting off the music the moment you have an ounce of consciousness before telling you to get up. It drives you insane to never hear the ending to the piece. It is as he promised. He never finishes.

It makes you obsessively crave for more. It is a guilty pleasure that you hide from everyone. You are selfish and never let yourself hum it in front of others. It will be yours and yours only. The only problem is, even if you want to hum it, you can never remember it completely. It is crazy that the notes are always lost to you. Like the complexity always keeps itself from your grasp. Like it is always changing, bit by bit, so you can never get a clear detail of it. Like his labyrinth. Like him. Only when you are back, when you hear it again, does the familiarity wash over you. It’s what motivates you to come and stay.

“Phantom, your song. When can I sing it?” You ask one day. Once again, you are met by silence. Whenever you ask something he wants to avoid, he will just not answer you. It frustrates you that he gets to do that, while you aren’t allowed to.

Music starts to play. A new piece. The complexity of the piece is so detailed and ominous. But as you hear it, you know you are not going to be able to sing to this for a long time.

“Do you think you are ready?” He asks, threateningly. As if you could surpass his understanding of music and claim yourself ready, when the expert himself hadn’t given you the clear yet.

“No.” You whisper. There is something smug about his silence before your lessons continue.

The Phantom is conflicted every night. He wants you to be his perfect songbird. He wants you to perform in front of all of Seoul. It will make him, your master, proud. He calls himself your master, but he never told you. He likes the name you gave him too.

But as much as he dreams of his results, you can’t leave. If you reach your full potential, he is always afraid that you will leave him. He wants to keep you here. Forever. His demented understanding whispers to him that he is good enough for you, but you will never see it. He knows the image you have of him. As a monster for scaring that insolent girl. A ruthless teacher who will only wait until her screaming is over before ordering her to come back to the practice room.

But he sees you so much more. You are his angel. He is your demon. How romantic. In the darkest hours in the night, when you chose to stay for the night, he would come to your room. You developed into a beautiful woman that haunts him as much as he haunts you, but in different ways. He dares to caress your cheeks and run his hand above your curve, but he doesn’t touch you. You are so delicate and practically untouchable. If he touches you, he is afraid you will disappear. You are delicate, the situation is delicate. As much as he wants to see his beloved songbird, his angel of music, to take flight and let the world see the fruit of his labors, this is the only way to keep his songbird by his side, in his cage.

Just as expected taehyung's scenario of tangled was so good. 😭😭😭 I cry.

:) I’m very happy you liked it.

Aww please don’t cry. Taetae is alive and well, and so are you. Look! So lively!

Maelstrom | Suga

Summary line: It takes a genius to help you get rid of the maelstrom in your heart

You’re fairly new to Big Hit. Not a singer, model, actor, dancer, or rapper. You’re composer, lyricist, and producer. You have a bad habit of being a workaholic. Other than biological reasons and greeting people, you almost never get up from your swivel leather chair in the provided small, makeshift studio. 

Your studio is in an open area but it was secluded from the main passing hallways. It is also used as storage and records room, so people come and go very often that you don’t really pay attention; besides, your headphones are always on your head. 

Despite having the whole studio for you to play, you find yourself glued to having something over your ears, people mistake you for anti-social but you’re really just overly engrossed in your work. It’s one of the many reasons Suga sits in here so often, unceremoniously entering your space.

You never asked questions, but then again, he wasn’t sure if you knew he was even present. You did have funny work habits. It’s like you never get up from your chair, but you change positions in your chair a lot; you sit normally, crisscrossed, feet up, or like L from Death Note. You drum your fingers and tap your foot when you’re playing with a beat, figuring a tempo. You bob your head and move your hands like a conductor. You chew on your straw and eat at your desk. Of all the times he’s been here, he’s never really seen you get up. You stand up to greet people with the polite Korean bow, but really, everyone does it, so that memory doesn’t really come to him. He’s done it for at least 20 years of his life now.

He looked up to your form and could only see a portion of the computer screen. He could see the beat you were forming, but with your headphones in, he didn’t know what sound you used to play the beat and he was curious. The beat seemed awfully familiar to him though.

He heard an excited giggle come out of you and he raised an eyebrow. You were pretty amusing when you enjoy yourself. Normally, he would find such habits and sounds annoying, but he could relate to some sense since it was for music. 

Since you were new, you didn’t get much chance to work together, but he’s heard your composition before; he was one of the judges for your audition, he was interested to see how long until Bang PD-nim will allow you two to work together. 

At your last month’s evaluation, he was pretty sure you were ready in terms of working out the program. You’ve proven yourself very efficient and genius in technical tactics, but you still needed a little more time to find your distinctive style.

“Ladies and gentleman, the new and, (sorry, boys, I love it, I really do,) but this is improved remix.” You giggled. He looked around, you were talking to no one. Seriously? You were pretty weird.

You unplugged your headphones and played the track. You remixed the instrumental version of House of Cards. It started out the same way as the original track, but you scratched it before Jungkook’s voice was supposed to start, the track replayed, but time you increased the tempo, adding distorted electric guitar, making a bit of metal/hip-hop feel to it. He heard your tiny voice do something he never expected. You started to rap, replacing the lyrics. Though you weren’t the performer type, it didn’t mean you didn’t the ability.

The original lyrics were about the instability of the house of cards. You rapped about the actual collapse in a regretful and angry tone. The house of cards has reached its limits; you thought you’ve been supporting a house of cards with many others, but it’s only been you this entire time. It’s time to bow out. What were you talking about?

You sighed as you reached the end of the song. You saved the track on your USB and unplugged. You looked at it. You swiveled in your chair and spun a 180° to see him just sitting there, staring at you. Your eyes widened and you looked at your USB, the computer, and back to him.

“What’s the title?” He asked with his arms crossed. You swallowed. Was he mad that you used his track as a base? You’ve heard him say before that you lacked originality.

“I was just going off on your track, kind of response/part two kind of thing. I don’t have a title.” He shook his head. He pointed at your USB.

“That needs its own title. You’re almost there. You think you need the base, but you don’t. You need to be brave about it. Keep the tempo, keep the lyrics; basically keep what you added. Start everything else all over.” He told you sternly. You bit your lip. You wanted to cry. You were actually going to go to the PD’s office and drop it off. Then never be seen again.

“I can’t.” You looked down to the carpet. You curled yourself onto the chair. He sighed, closing his laptop. He took your USB and grabbed the office chair next to you. He swiveled your chair, making you face the desktop again. He plugged in the USB and sat down next to you, opening up your music file. He went to the synthesizer to find the distorted guitar that you had.

“You can’t follow our melody. Make a new one.” He said, not looking at you as he clicked away at the intricate program, wiping away the notes. You sucked in a huge breath and looked up to see what he was up to. You needed to make a new melody, incorporate new and old instruments. Your song was fast-paced and wanted to make it feel turbulent.

You politely moved away his hand and started to add vocalization, timpani drums, piano, and grabbed the synth keyboard from the shelf next to you. You didn’t notice his eyebrow when you also chose the triangle, xylophone, and marimba on the program. You contemplated on keeping your distorted guitar; clearly starting all over. He quietly watched you as you composed a new melody, its harmony, its accompaniment, its arrangement.

Your habits emerged once again as you drowned yourself in your work. It was different this time though, a little self-conscious about it since you couldn’t ignore Suga’s presence. His presence was silent, but deafening. You didn’t dare stop, not that you really wanted to. Sometimes you would look at him for reassurance for what you do with your music. You kept asking him if things were “okay.” He wouldn’t answer those questions. He just shrugs, not giving you any input, saying it has to be yours, do what you do.

“What does it sound like to you?” You finally asked, playing the completed instrumental track. You were done, ready to present the whole track, at least to him.

“Turbulent. Troubling. Chaotic and confused. In the way you feel it, not the musical form.” He provided feedback after the intro and the verse should have started. You smiled.

“Close your eyes, what do you see?” He was pretty curious of your request, seeing how he’s never asked for any visual feedback for his music. Different musicians had different ways of presenting their music. Apparently, you wanted your music to have visual interpretation. He did as you told him to.

“Without your lyrics about a collapsing house of cards, it’s a storm in the middle of the ocean. The waters are dark and starting to concave itself, causing a maelstrom. The sky is too dark and the rain is unrelenting.” He paused. Your track was coming to an end.

“The storm is calming down…slowly yet abruptly, I can’t tell. I see a small yellowish, greyish, bluish horizon, far beyond the dark clouds. The sea…the ripples are still there, but it’s even. The storm has passed.” He opened his eyes to see you nodding, scribbling away at your notebook, taking in his vision.

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping you’d see.” You said, without looking at him. You used your pen to scratch your head, “The visual is completely different now. I need to change the topic of my song.” You mumbled frustratingly. You mumbled on how this vision required a resilient ship. He smiled. That’s the point. You didn’t realize it, but you just created your first original track.

The maelstrom in your heart has settled. You weren’t going anywhere. Big Hit wouldn’t want you to, and neither would he.