Here They Be Giants [1/2]
Title: Here They Be Giants [Part 1]
Author: verocity
Fandom: 2PM
Featuring: Nichkhun-centric, Chansung, Jaebum, Taecyeon, Junho, Junsu, Wooyoung (Jinwoon cameo)
Pairings: Taec/Jay on the side
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cursing, mild sexual scene
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 17,199.
A/N: For the onedaybb 2011 challenge. Started 8/19/2011. Officially the longest single story I have written so far... and there's going to be a sequel to be posted next month. To think I was wondering if I could close the fic in 10K~ish words *grumble*
But more importantly, the musically creative geniebsmart collaborated with me and composed a wonderful musical interpretation of the story. Her video does a very good job of summarizing the fic. Watch the awesomeness and let it pump the blood in your veins!
Heard it? Felt it? Are you ready?
Then let's begin.
This story is about many things.
This story is about personal growth. This is not necessarily a story about maturity, but it can be read that way. The maturation of people depends very heavily on the surrounding culture, and each culture and each person is different. For every perceived nugget of maturity behind every action, there is a hairline crack of fragility ready to give in. Maturity has little to do with age but has plenty to do with time, and time passes differently for each one.
This is not a story about good people versus bad people, although you may be able to identify some characters here as 'good' or 'bad'. Instead, this story is about people being people the best way - perhaps even the only way - they know how. This is a story about selfishness and self-centeredness, but more importantly this story is about the difference between the two. Who is who and which is which? The writer has his opinions and he invites you to form your own.
On a deeper level, this story is about pressure and sanity and why the two must achieve a delicate balance for the mind to reach its peak. Too much of the former opens the road to padded walls and jackets with too-long sleeves, while too much of the latter invites complacency and the stagnation of creativity. But balance the two - exert the right pressure and maintain proper sanity - and the mind can achieve greatness that may outshine the mere sum of its parts.
But at its deepest, this story is about relationships: how they are formed, how they are strengthened, how they die off, and maybe even how they just appear out of nowhere. Part of it will be about sex, but not in the count-the-legs-and-divide-by-two kind of way (unless the characters go wildly out of the author's control). It could be about why relationships are. Not necessarily about "why relationships are something," just why relationships are.
It may not tell us why Nichkhun wants to see goodness in every person, but it may explain the drive behind the behavior. It may tell us about Taecyeon's courage and Jaebum's desire for familiarity and why those two mix so well. It might even tell us about Junsu's unshakeable belief in his talents, Wooyoung's approach to competition, and why Junho is so magnificent. It might even tell us about Chansung's easy laugh and solid confidence. Who knows?
The story knows.
The story is here to be told.
~*~
"You're a prince?" Chansung asked in disbelief one day, in the shade of a tree that hid them from the brilliant sunset that painted Seoul in swathes of burning red.
"By blood," Nichkhun answered as he picked on a few blades of grass. "And so watered down that there's no way I'm actually royalty."
"Wow," said Chansung, dazzled and failing to hide it. "I've never been friends with royalty before."
"I just told you-"
"Don't worry about it! Here in Korea, blood is blood. You're royalty. Heck, you even look it!" Chansung chuckled at the high end of his voice and Nichkhun has just gotten used to the sound. It was a big sound, energetic and kind, a perfect representation of the person behind it.
And maybe that was why Nichkhun liked hanging out with Chansung. He'd accepted that the world wasn't all about sunshine and pretty clouds, particularly here in Korea where everyone was so driven and competitive and maybe just a tad unwelcoming to people who looked different, but for a few minutes each day he could pretend otherwise. A few minutes each day when he didn't suffocate in stinky sweat-stuffed training rooms and judging eyes and watching his body in the mirror, focused so he could do his angles and waves and pops and locks satisfactorily. A few minutes each day when he could hide out here in a small patch of green just behind JYPE's main studios with someone who cared less about singing and dancing and more about who he was behind the winks and smiles.
"I'm no more a prince than you," Nichkhun insisted demurely, and meant it. He wanted to tell Chansung that it wasn't really that big a deal: multiple generations of polyamorous Thai royalty made it hard to find someone who wasn't royal to a degree. But even as he thought it, even as he reminded himself that he wasn't special (and it was hard to feel special when surrounded by his fellow trainees, almost all of whom were more talented than him, and the best of them all happened to be his best friend), for this moment he relished the open friendliness. And despite his insistence otherwise, it was nice to feel royal around somebody who appreciated the history in his blood. Taecyeon and Jaebum were great friends in their own ways and for whom Nichkhun would give his life, but they'd both grown so comfortable with the American ideal of individuality that the concept of pride in royalty was entirely lost on them.
"But you are!" Chansung gushed. "You're so calm and so poised and you smile all the time, and you're good at making people feel special..."
"I don't know about that," Nichkhun broke in while Chansung was taking a deep breath in preparation for a litany of Nichkhun's princely characteristics. "And I'm not here as a prince. I'm here on the same level as you. As a trainee."
Chansung guffawed at those words. Nichkhun considered that had it been anyone else the action would have been offensive. "You'll do great, Prince Nichkhun Hyung!" Chansung said. "It'll be impossible for you not to make it big. I'll be your number one fan and I'll leave you marriage proposals all over Cyworld. I'll even buy socks with your face on them and throw used underwear at you during concerts!"
Nichkhun rolled his eyes at the exaggeration. "I don't stand a chance. You've seen the others dance, right? And you've heard the singers?"
"I can't dance or sing either, but I'm still around."
"Yeah, but you can rap," Nichkhun countered.
"Not as well as Jaebum," Chansung said, slightly subdued. "But it's impossible for me to be as good as Jaebum at anything."
"Jay's a great guy," Nichkhun said generously, "but you're great at other things. I should make the two of you meet. He'd love to hang out with you."
Chansung was visibly tempted, but he declined the offer in the end. "I literally wouldn't know what to say. And I'm not cool enough to hang out with him."
That was puzzling. Not cool enough? Had someone redefined 'cool' without alerting Nichkhun? Because as awesome as Jay was, Nichkhun couldn't quite reconcile someone who farted unabashedly every time and who probably knew only two adjectives (one began with an f and the other with a g) with whatever image Chansung had of him. It was possible that they were thinking about the same person, but only just...
Nichkhun was on the verge of extolling a long list of Jay's vices to shatter this imaginary pedestal when his phone rang the generic, electronic tone he hadn't the heart to replace yet. Chansung shrugged and Nichkhun flipped it open. "Yes?" he said, with Chansung watching his mouth in case lip-reading might help him understand the English.
"I still don't know where you sneak off to during afternoon break," Taecyeon's voice blared from the speaker, "but you'd better get back here soon. Bad news. Your voice trainer arrived early."
"Oh," Nichkhun sighed, his shoulders sagging. It wasn't actually bad news. Just... unwelcome. "I'll be right back. Is Jay there with you?"
"He's happily making gay babies with Kwon."
"Aww. Sorry, Taec, I didn't mean to leave you alone and unable to fulfill your insatiable need for contact." Nichkhun got to his feet and gestured for Chansung to do the same, and the latter happily obliged. He switched the conversation over to speaker mode so Chansung wouldn't feel left out. It wasn't a well-thought out idea, but the sentiment counted.
Taec's laugh had always been unselfconscious and probably always will be. "Hey. Don't forget: you're the girl in this relationship."
"You have a girl?" Chansung gasped, excited at understanding a word and that maybe there's a princess for him to meet as well. Nichkhun gestured wildly for him to keep quiet.
"Who's there with you?" Taec asked immediately, his curiosity traveling well despite the static. "I swear to god, Khun, if you and Jay trade me off for someone else, I will be a blubbering mess post break-up."
"Now who's the girl in this relationship?" Nichkhun countered as he and Chansung began their trudge to one of the building's many back doors.
"That's sexism, that is. And Nichkhun Buck Horvatever, are you actually making friends with someone who isn't me or Jay? This is a cause for celebration!"
Nichkhun ended the call with an audible snap of his phone.
"You have grass on your butt," Chansung happily informed him. "I would wipe it off, but I'm not fit to touch the butt of royalty."
"But you felt fine just looking?" Nichkhun wiped his pants with as much dignity as he could. "And I'd like you to meet Taecyeon and Jaebum. If you're not doing anything later."
Chansung grinned brightly as if Nichkhun had told him he was fit to wipe the butt of royalty after all. Unfortunately, Chansung had always been physically expressive, and his aegyo had Nichkhun crumpled against the wall and wondering if JYPE's health care policy covered injury from people who were too affectionate.
~*~
Vocal training was, as always, just this step shy of a disaster.
Nichkhun was familiar with keys and progressions and arpeggios, and his sufficient musical training gave him an ear for blending and tonal harmony and knowing if he was on tune. But, as the voice coach politely pointed out (while the meaner trainees did so happily), there was a difference between knowing what a descending arpeggio was, being able to play it on a piano, and actually being able sing it. There was such a thing as perfect vocal pitch and Nichkhun unfortunately did not have it.
"Maybe you could learn from another trainee," coach Dongwook said in exasperated English. "Junsu, come up here and do it."
"Yes, coach Dongwook," a tall, dark-skinned boy seated at the front row said as he stood up.
Nichkhun dejectedly got back to his seat. He told himself to pay attention to the lesson and to not listen to the satisfied murmurs that erupted behind him. He ignored the fact that Junsu was the best singer in this batch, and being compared to him just made Nichkhun's own vocal shortcomings appear that much sharper.
"A pretty face until he opens his mouth," he heard and very carefully avoided reacting to.
In front of everyone, Junsu was in his element and had moved on from basic chords to descending minor ninths and augmented thirteens, the top notes of which were way beyond Nichkhun's vocal range. Coach Dongwook played the keyboard with an air of satisfaction that almost bordered on pride, and that was high praise from any of JYPE's vocal trainers.
Not for the first time, Nichkhun wished the rap training sessions didn't have the same schedule; although Jay could definitely do his own brand of vocal gymnastics, Taec and Chansung couldn't and Nichkhun wouldn't have to suffer alone.
Something soft and crinkly hit the back of his head. Nichkhun breathed in deep. He'd just successfully counted down from a furious ten to a passably calm one when another one hit him again. He looked down and saw writing on one of the crumpled balls of paper. He waited until the teacher called for another student to the front for his turn before carefully reaching for the note.
Open it, idiot! it said in spiky English letters.
Puzzled, Nichkhun reached for the other crumpled sheet and read, in the same handwriting, Your singing tense. You relax. Stay after training?
Nichkhun decided that calm bemusement was the best possible reaction and opted for that. This was his last training session for the day anyway; Jay still had break dancing and Taec had hosting for another hour and a half, and Nichkhun always waited for them by going through his Korean textbooks so they could go back to the dorms together.
Somehow, knowing there was another friendly face in the crowd made the rest of the session more bearable. He wondered who it was; Nichkhun studied everyone who stepped up to the front, watching for knowing glances sent his way (none) or carefully averted eyes (many) as if there was a black hole where he was seated. In the end he still didn't have a clue, and the selfish inner Nichkhun he tried hard to rein - the one that delighted in Chansung's worshipping - huffed that this mysterious friend should at least be one of the good vocalists and too bad it obviously wasn't Junsu. The rest of his mind countered that Nichkhun was among the worst anyway, so if anyone wanted to help him, they were welcome.
Class ended with Nichkhun still clueless. Coach Dongwook handed out the score for a song that they had to learn by next week. Nichkhun's heart fell when he saw that the lyrics were in Korean; he could read Hangul (passably) and sing in Korean (if he really concentrated), but doing both at the same time was beyond him.
He waited for everyone in the group to take their copy and leave the studio, but someone approached him even before the room emptied out.
"I help you," someone said in carefully enunciated speaking-to-English-teachers voice. It was a boy Nichkhun had never spoken to before but found oddly familiar nonetheless. One of the better ones, noted the inner Nichkhun. "Is that okay?"
Nichkhun stood up and bowed casually polite, which Taec had insisted was different from the formally polite or casually relaxed forms.
The boy bowed back. "Good. Now. Sing."
"Erm," Nichkhun gaped, because singing on command was something that singers did and Nichkhun was as far from being a singer as Jay was from any definition of 'tall'.
"Don't make me regret doing this," the boy muttered, obviously to himself. Nichkhun could practically read the English words knocking around in his volunteer trainer's head.
"The teachers speak to me in English but I can understand Korean now," he said clearly albeit a bit stiffly. "I don't understand idioms or complicated words, but I'm not completely lost." And even though he knew that everyone knew his name, he still added, "I'm Nichkhun."
"Yes, I know. I'm Junho."
There was another round of bowing and Nichkhun tactfully ignored the blush forming on Junho's neck. Nichkhun suddenly realized why Junho looked oddly familiar. "You know, you really look like R-"
"Don't even say that name," Junho hissed, and the vehemence behind it startled Nichkhun.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Nevermind. Now please sing and I'll tell you where to improve on."
Nichkhun did.
It wasn't his best performance and he was pretty sure he'd just botched yet another Backstreet Boys song for the millionth time in this reality, not to mention taking it several keys lower, but it was easier than the Titanic theme song or anything by N'Sync. Nichkhun took it as a victory when Junho still hadn't ran out of the studio bleeding out of his ears by the time he hit the first chorus. But Junho did rub pointedly at his temples several times. "That bad, huh?" Nichkhun asked awkwardly.
Junho's reply came after a moment of deliberation. "You have good pronunciation," he said constructively.
Nichkhun chose to laugh at the implication instead of being affronted, but he sounded forced and uncomfortable. "Yeah," he said, self-conscious. "It may be the only thing I'm good at. But you'll help me, right?"
"Look, I'm not offering to do this for free," Junho said bluntly. "And I'm not talking about money. I can sing but I suck at English. You're fluent in English but your singing needs a lot of help. Do you understand or do I have to spell it out for you?"
"It's perfectly clear."
"Good. Let's start with your breathing. Sit and watch your reflection and relax."
~*~
Somehow, in his months of training so far, Khun never realized that singing was so complicated.
"And none of the teachers have ever said anything about it," Khun raged as he, Jay, and Taec walked back to the trainee dorms together. He'd invited Chansung over for snacks, but a very large boy with the disposition of a bunny and a smile easily as bright as Nichkhun's was charming intercepted them and dragged Chansung away before Taec and Jay made it back from the restroom.
"Khun, were you under the impression that singing is just speaking in tune?" Taec asked sardonically.
"You're one to talk," Jay butted in with a sharp elbow jab that caught Taecyeon as he was breathing in.
"I know it's more than that," Nichkhun said dejectedly. "I just expected the trainers to teach me how to do it properly. But here I am, learning from a fellow trainee."
"You're making friends at a remarkable pace!" Taec insisted. "Make some more and I might start thinking you're jealous of my popularity."
Nichkhun snorted and Jay grimaced. "Taec. This thing of yours you call 'popularity'? Not what you think."
"Some would say, 'notoriety'," Khun added. He discretely bumped Jay's fist behind Taec's back. Random passersby stared as three doubtlessly Asian teenagers spoke in fluent English, though some eyes lingered on Nichkhun or Taecyeon and Jay pretended not to notice. Nichkhun felt sick at the irony: people clearly missed who the right person was to watch.
Taec bared his teeth at them. Nichkhun refrained from pointing out his resemblance to a farm horse.
"I suppose I should listen to a prince when he educates me for free," Taec said with the absence of irony in his voice, which was his own way of being sarcastic. Taec was usually nice, but he wasn't a saint. "I'm so sorry, your highness. I shall consume a dictionary tonight so as to avoid further offending your sensibilities."
Nichkhun paused in mid-step. His blood rushed from his face in horror. Of course they'd already spoken to Chansung: they shared rap training and Taec probably recognized his voice even over the phone.
"Hey! His royal majesty must be tired!" Jay exclaimed. "Taec, we can't let his precious legs get strained! Thailand may decide to invade Korea if they learn of our crude sense of hospitality!"
And before Nichkhun could react at the indignity of it all, he was swept off his feet as Taec grabbed him by the armpits and Jay took him by the knees. His yells of protest and their boyish laughter traced the alleys of Seoul the rest of the way to their dorm and they knew tonight would be another good night.
They were high and they were having the time of their lives. Too high for gravity to call them down.
~*~
"Don't look now, but there are a couple of creepy stalker fanboys checking you out," Taecyeon told him during lunch the next day.
"As if that's not worrisome at all, thanks," Nichkhun replied, untroubled, as he took another spoonful of jjigae. He'd long ago gotten used to being stared at.
"No, seriously. They're both massive and one of them looks like he doesn't have eyes. We could tell Jay to beat them up after training."
Nichkhun slowly drew his eyes away from his tray to give Taec a look. "So, to be perfectly clear: you're volunteering Jay's violence. Not yours. But Jay's?"
Taec grinned at him and slowly snaked a palm down his own chest in what he clearly thought was a seductive fashion, saying, "I'm a weapon of mass destruction, man. One look at my sweaty body and everyone in the vicinity would melt."
"Sure. From the vile odor," Nichkhun clarified and Taec guffawed.
"Erm. Excuse me?" said a depressingly familiar voice.
Nichkhun didn't need to see who it was for his confidence to drop a couple of notches. "Yes, hello. Junsu, right?"
"Yeah," Junsu answered. "Thanks for remembering. Hey, listen, I heard you and Junho practicing yesterday-"
"Have a seat," Taec interrupted with a gesture at an empty chair. Junsu shook his head politely at the offer but Nichkhun didn't miss the way his eyebrow quirked at Taec's sea blue and pink shirt.
"- and he's an okay singer," Junsu continued. "But you should know that he learned how to sing from choir. That's different from what we're learning to do here. So be careful around him, alright?" Junsu left before Nichkhun could completely register the warning for what it was.
"Well there's a thing," Taecyeon muttered as they both watched Junsu sit down with a couple of people with similar levels of talent. "He's colorful. I like him."
"'Him'? If you're getting a boyfriend, keep your gay to yourself, man," came Jay's familiar drawl, and the way he swung his legs over the chair looked impossibly graceful for such a mundane action.
"Jokwon," was Taec's one-word reply. Jay's cheekbones tinged red and he started dismantling his dumplings.
"Khun, there are a couple of guys looking at you with hearts in their eyes."
"We've been over that."
"We were thinking you could go beat them up," Taec added. A beat of silence followed. "What? We can't have anyone ogling our prince like that. He might think our countrymen are disrespectful."
Nichkhun buried his face in his hands and tried to repair the composure that his friends could so effortlessly shatter. "For the last time, I was going to tell you-"
"Yeah, we're not on that anymore, and your fanboys have already left anyway. One of them was that Chansung guy from yesterday."
"Wait, it was?" Taec asked, surprised.
Nichkhun and Jay stared at him. "Are you wearing your contacts?" Nichkhun asked.
Taec frowned and rubbed at the base of his eyes. "I need to get new ones. Or else I'd have to wear glasses again."
Nichkhun grinned at the image while Jay scoffed at the idea. "Wear your dorktacles in public and we won't hang out anymore. At all. I mean it."
"Jay, you know you can't stand not having me around."
Nichkhun felt he missed an inside joke somewhere. He pouted as he pondered the recent conversation.
"Aww, don't worry, Khun!" Taec announced cheerfully. "Jay and I will never leave you. We're gonna grow old together like spinsters and I'll adopt cats and Jay's going to dislocate his hip while break dancing at a ripe old age of ninety-one and you're gonna inherit the throne so we can all live in the royal palace together!"
The impossible was almost achieved when Jay - Park Jaebum - gaped like he was at a loss for words, but reality asserted itself once more and Jay reestablished his eloquence. "I didn't think it was possible, but you're actually fucking gayer than Kwon."
"Aww, I love you too, Jay!"
Nichkhun's forehead thunked loudly against the cafeteria table. "I wonder if I could buy better friends at the night market."
"Money doesn't solve everything, Khun!"
"Unfortunately."
~*~
His first voice lesson with Junho during the morning break period didn't go as smoothly as Nichkhun hoped.
"No, open your mouth!"
"My mouth is open!"
"Open your mouth more! Listen, singing isn't just about making your voice stay on key. It's also about producing a sound that people will want to hear."
Nichkhun closed his eyes and fought down the frustration.
"Open your eyes! You have to see you how you open your mouth first before you can sing casually."
"You know," Nichkhun said between calming breaths, "I think I prefer the way our trainers teach us. Not all these breathing exercises and proper posturing and things. Real singing."
"And did you get any better? Seriously, answer me."
Nichkhun didn't have to.
It's not that he didn't like what Junho was making him do because he did hear the humongous difference in how he sounded when he followed those unfamiliar instructions. But... there was just something about Junho today that rubbed him the wrong way. It was a feeling that Nichkhun had always tried to suppress. He'd always thought that people should be understood by their actions, not for causing weird feelings of irritation the root of which he couldn't justify anyway. And as much as Nichkhun liked to think that he was a rational person, he knew he could only act in cold intellect if his emotions weren't making any play for attention.
"Did you learn to sing like this?" Nichkhun asked plainly, doing his best to keep the edge of antagonism suppressed.
Junho's silence sounded like a downshift of Nichkhun's intelligence. "Of course. Why do you think I'm teaching you this way?"
"It's just that," in some detached section of his brain, Nichkhun knew what he was going to say next wouldn't win him any points with Junho, but the prickle of irritation was making very clear demands and they were not about to back down, "Junsu doesn't seem to bother with these kinds of techniques."
The silent implication of his words echoed deafeningly loud in the studio: and he's much better than you.
For a moment Nichkhun thought he'd crossed a very important line and he'd have to find a way to get better at singing by himself. And for a livid moment Junho looked like the only thing he wanted in the world was make Nichkhun a walking, talking bruise. But all that came of the moment was self-defeated smirk and a taunt that promised broken bones. "Is it nice to rub it in?"
And for the first time Nichkhun realized that he was being too self-absorbed. He wasn't the one worst off in their batch of trainees. Because when it came down to it, Nichkhun would be able to find a future elsewhere. He had the connections, he had the background, he had the skills, and most of all his family had money. He could go to university without having to worry about student loans and he could pick up modeling gigs wherever he went because he had the right face, build, and posture for the camera.
But Junho... he occupied that unenviable position of looking like a lesser version of someone who was already Someone but without being good enough to overcome the borrowed spotlight. He'd always be seen as the look-alike. The kiddie version. The fun-sized Rain. And Junho wanted nothing more than to succeed in this industry. He was competent. But that wasn't enough.
Nichkhun backed off.
"No," he said. "I'm sorry. Thank you for taking the time to teach me." And he meant it.
Junho watched him intently for what felt like hours, but his eyes were unreadable even if his shoulders were still bared and his nostrils were flared. He exhaled a deep breath and said, "Good. Now open your mouth, relax your jaw and follow the scales." He played a broken C# triad and Nichkhun sang from the root.
The inner Nichkhun crowed bitterly that at least he could play the keys better than Junho, but Nichkhun pushed the voice to the back of his head.
~*~
"Hey, Prince Hyung!" Chansung greeted as he approached their spot with a plastic bag in his hands. "Wow, you look exhausted today."
"Hey," Nichkhun greeted back. "I'm just... stressed. Very stressed."
"Really? Then I guess I brought the perfect snack after all," Chansung said with a grin as he crossed his long legs and settled on the ground. He ruffled his parcel open and produced, to Nichkhun's surprise, a comb of bananas. "Potassium's a great way to resist stress. Good for digestion and stuff and it helps with breathing. Or is it circulation? Sorry, I don't really pay attention to health ed."
Nichkhun laughed for what felt like the first time that day. "I'm surprised you remembered that much."
"It was about bananas. How could I not?" Chansung shrugged with a wave of humor and peeled his banana with the ease and grace of having practiced at least a thousand times. It was a simple thing, but Nichkhun couldn't stop watching. Chansung raised the fruit to Nichkhun's mouth and said, "Open your mouth."
"What?" Nichkhun asked, startled because just an hour ago he'd associated that command with the very strong urge to punch whoever said it.
"Ah~" Chansung suggested.
"Oh." Nichkhun remembered that it was a sign of respect among Koreans to feed each other. It was a hard lesson to forget: Jay freaked out and almost flipped their table over the first time Taec tried to feed him a lettuce wrap. The word 'gay' has been permanently affiliated to a great number of things Nichkhun never thought of as even remotely sexual before. Jay was particularly talented in that area.
Nichkhun opened his mouth and suppressed his speculations of how Jay would react should Taecyeon ever try to feed him a banana.
If the conditions were right and if the area was private enough, it might be worth watching. And rewatching. Ad infinitum.
"Why are you so stressed anyway, Prince Hyung?" Chansung asked, showing the world the half-masticated mush of a banana currently occupying his mouth.
It was another lesson in basic Korean idiosyncrasies that Taec painstakingly taught them. (Well, more to Nichkhun than Jay. For obvious reasons. It was the first time the words "Fuckin' finally! Something that isn't gay!" were ever heard from Park Jaebum's mouth.) And speaking of his best friends...
Nichkhun swallowed his mouthful of fruit and avoided Chansung's inquiry. "So I guess you've met Jay and Taec?"
"Yeah, and you were so right about them! Jaebum-hyung is so cool and he didn't make fun of me when I tried to talk to him in English, and Taecyeon-hyung is so friendly and shit! And- oh! I probably shouldn't swear in front of royalty. Sorry, hyung..."
And perhaps that was what brought the contrast between Taec and Jay and Chansung. Funny how such a thing about him told him more about his friends.
"But how'd you know I met Jaebum-hyung and Taecyeon-hyung, anyway?" Chansung asked, drawing Nichkhun out of his reverie.
"They started teasing me about being a prince. They never did that before."
"Hmmm," Chansung hummed as he took another bite. It was followed by a sharper, higher, "Oh! They didn't know? You never told them? I just thought, since they're your best friends and all, and they told me I could call them 'hyung' as long as I kept talking about you, I..."
"It's fine, don't worry about it. Jay and Taec meant well, I'm sure."
"But why haven't you told them, Prince Hyung? I mean, I tell my best friend everything so I thought..."
"I never really found a reason to tell them before," Nichkhun admitted. "They are my best friends, and if I know something that would affect them I'd tell them in a heartbeat. But... I just never got around to this one."
"Ugh, sorry, hyung! I should have kept my mouth shut," and Chansung looked so remorseful that Nichkhun had to draw him into half a hug so they'd both feel better.
"Hey, don't worry about it. If it hadn't been for you, I'd probably never have let them know at all."
"So why'd you tell me?" Chansung asked with all the grace of a rhinoceros.
Nichkhun just smiled at him in response. He raised a banana to Chansung's lips even if the younger boy was already chewing.
Fortunately, uncharacteristically, Chansung took the hint.
~*~
All of Nichkhun's misgivings about Junho's way of teaching subsided when coach Dongwook pronounced Nichkhun's vocalization exercise 'serviceable'. Nichkhun flashed a brilliant smile at Junho as he made his way back to his seat, but his makeshift voice teacher didn't bother to look at him at all.
He knew better than to expect silence from everyone else, though; the voices extolling his flaws as a performer were weaker today, but that didn't mean they didn't have anything to say.
"... look at him, so satisfied just because he stayed on key ..."
"... could afford additional training, as if that makes him better ..."
"... come on, cut him some slack. He did okay up front ..."
"... be so worried. He'll never make the cut ..."
"Maybe you're not so hopeless after all," said a slightly familiar voice right behind him.
Nichkhun turned in his seat and came face to face with a boy with saggy cheeks and forgettably plain eyes. Someone he took variety show production classes with. "Thanks," Nichkhun said uncertainly.
The boy just rolled his eyes at Nichkhun and reverted his attention to the exceptionally tall trainee who was belting an adlib to coach Dongwook's tune. Nichkhun righted his posture once more and smiled when the trainee's voice cracked when the tune transposed three keys higher. It wasn't that he thought meanly of the student's performance; Nichkhun just liked to remember that even the top of the class also had their limits, and somehow it made him feel that he may not be so hopeless after all.
"So you still doubt me?" Junho asked him after training when they had the studio to themselves again.
"No," Nichkhun answered even if it was obvious, because some things needed to be said and this was something that Junho needed to hear.
"Great. Since now you have an idea of how to stay in and shift keys with your voice, let's work on your projection." Junho took his position behind the keyboard Nichkhun took that as his cue to face the mirror. Behind his reflection he saw the plain-eyed boy from earlier enter the studio with an amused air to his gait.
"Figures that you've been teaching him, Junho," the boy said with a playfully mean edge to his tone.
Junho's fingers froze above the keys. "Get out. Before I throw you out. I mean it, Wooyoung."
"What are you giving him in return?" Wooyoung asked Nichkhun directly. "Must be something valuable. Junho doesn't even talk to competitors at all."
"Get the fuck out," Junho hissed, droplets of spittle flying to the keyboard and hands gripping his monobloc chair tightly. Nichkhun watched the two of them, completely lost at the overwhelming aggression between two people whom he'd never even thought knew each other.
"Oh, now I get it," Wooyoung continued with a sardonic twinkle in his eyes aimed at Nichkhun. "You're not competition."
Only the adrenaline flooding his system allowed Nichkhun to move fast enough to restrain Junho from behind. He felt good about himself for reacting quickly enough to prevent a fight, but the moment was short-lived when Junho elbowed him right in his solar plexus and Nichkhun collapsed to a grunting heap on the floor and trying to fight back the nausea. He was vaguely aware of a fight escalating in his presence, of voices being raised and more people coming into the room and the sickening sound of a hit landing on a body. He tried to see what was going on, but Junho's elbow had been hard and strong and perfectly aimed. He knew he should be bigger than this, stronger than a helpless lump on the floor when there was violence that should be stopped, but it was hard to feel chivalric when his lungs were in a state of emergency and there were tears of pain clouding the world.
For a moment, all he could see were blurred suggestions of feet on the floor.
It took several seconds for his body to catch up on recent events. His lungs stopped trying to suck in all the air in the room and he wiped his eyes to clear his vision. He looked up just in time to see Wooyoung leaving, apparently unharmed. Junho was on the floor and nursing a bleeding lip while, to Nichkhun's complete surprise, Chansung looked like he had gone berserk and the only thing stopping him from eviscerating Junho right then and there was the giant who had him in an arm lock.
Junho wiped the blood off his lips and smirked at it in disgust. "Fuck this," he told Chansung, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. "After what we've been through for years, you hit me for someone you barely even know. I see where I stand now, Chansung."
Whatever more he had to say about betrayed friendships were forgotten when his eyes fell on Nichkhun. "And fuck you. You're not even welcome here. Go back to where you belong."
Chansung erupted in a fresh wave of struggles as he tried to get at Junho's retreating back. "Shhhh, calm down, Chansungie," the other guy said calmingly even though his muscles were about to burst from the effort. He tried to smile at Nichkhun, but the best he could make given the circumstance was an apologetic grimace with crescent eyes. "He's not usually like this. He only gets violent when people hurt his friends."
Nichkhun took one last deep breath to make sure his lungs were back to normal before he rubbed the back of Chansung's neck. "I'm fine. And he didn't mean it. I just got overexcited. And careless."
Chansung stopped struggling but his teeth were still bared at the floor. "I'm okay now, Jinwoon."
"You sure? You can't sucker me in like last time-"
"Jinwoon, let go. I'm calm," Chansung repeated and Jinwoon knowingly let go of Chansung's arms. "Sorry you had to see me like this, hyung," Chansung added without meeting Nichkhun's eyes. He turned away and crouched by the corner in a perfect picture of pathetic self-flagellation.
"Hey," Nichkhun started, but Jinwoon's hand on his shoulder made him pause.
"He's okay. Just... it might be best if you give him space."
Jinwoon's words were perfectly clear, but Nichkhun found the meaning behind them harder to understand.
"Please, Nichkhun-sshi," Jinwoon pleaded. Nichkhun nodded and walked out of the studio as quickly as he could.
Belatedly, he realized that Jinwoon had every right to drive Nichkhun away. Jinwoon knew Chansung longer and more deeply. And Although Jinwoon was massive, Chansung was definitely stronger, which meant Jinwoon's ability to restrain him relied less on strength and more on Chansung's trust. Which meant that if there was anyone who knew anything about how to deal with an upset Chansung, it was Jinwoon.
It didn't make him feel any less guilty. Language or cultural barriers were no excuses for this one.
Nichkhun wondered if being a bad friend was Thailand's curse for royalty serving another country.
~*~
"Wow, you're great company tonight," Taecyeon said with a slight tinge of worry he failed to hide.
Nichkhun grumbled something incoherent and focused on his jjajjangmyeon.
"Okay, that's all I have," Taecyeon said, passing the metaphoric baton to Jay. "Your turn to coax him out of that boulder he lives under."
Jay shrugged carelessly. "He'll snap out of it," he said around a mouthful of noodles.
Taec glowered at those words, and Nichkhun found it weird because Taec never extended his personal standards of behavior to other people. But whether Jay didn't see or just didn't care, Nichkhun didn't know. He excused himself from their small dinner gathering in the living room, muttering excuses about being exhausted and training tomorrow and he's just doesn't have the appetite tonight.
The last thing he heard before he shut the shared bedroom door is Taec saying, "What the hell, Jay? Can you for once not leave the emotional stuff to me?"
Nichkhun wasn't in the right state of mind to pick it apart.
~*~
When he awoke the morning after, he had a full five minutes of groggy bliss before he realized why he was feeling so miserable. Jay and Taec just let him be.
"Everyone has their bad days," Jay told him over a breakfast of eggs and ramyeon. Taec looked like he wanted to snort.
Nichkhun accepted the attempt at comfort with a smile. He focused on eating and wondered if he could buy bananas on their way to the training studios.
~*~
He could. He did. He almost bought a whole crate.
He waited under their tree with a bag of fruit and a bitter taste in his mouth.
He left the bag there when afternoon break ended.
He washed the disappointment away with a can of iced coffee and willed himself to focus on other people and other responsibilities. He'd get his chance. If the world had any good in it, he'd get his chance to make this right.
~*~
Nichkhun knew that what little he'd learned from Junho wouldn't be enough to get him by in class. He could study the assignment by himself, but the trainer had obviously already written him off as musically hopeless so the best he could hope to get from that was know the lyrics and be familiar with the tune. But to actually sing it, he needed more practice. More training with someone who was willing to give him the time of day.
He survived the vocal harmony exercises by mostly sticking to the melody while the partner assigned to him took care of everything else. Out of pity or out of practicality Nichkhun didn't care then because there was nothing he could have done. But he paid close attention to Junho's turn, during which he was partnered with Junsu.
Listening to them was a surreal experience. Nichkhun realized only then just how sharply their singing styles contrasted: Junsu was very deliberately a hybrid between R&B and hip hop in the way he broke his notes and formed atonal melodies, making him easy to listen to but hard to relate with; whereas Junho's style lacked the sparkle that could draw people in but made up for it with endurance and a solid grounding on the basics of music.
Junho stood in front of the class and followed the meter and progression with a neutral expression, providing a steady base to Junsu's vocal acrobatics. The results were interesting. Not necessarily good, but definitely interesting.
The coach assessed them as individually capable but incompatible as a group. By the way Junsu and Junho didn't react, Nichkhun assumed they reached the same conclusion.
"Can we talk?" Nichkhun asked Junho as he passed by on his way back to his seat. Whether Junho heard him or not, Nichkhun didn't know, but they weren't going anywhere until the coach dismissed them from class.
They finally started studying Keuraedo Sarangida. Coach Dongwook played the piano accompaniment twice so the class could get familiarized with the music, then he played the melody line and let the students follow (or fail to follow) on their own. It didn't take long for Nichkhun to realize that the song was a ballad. It wasn't a welcome thought. Ballads were hard. Ballads were very technical.
He glanced behind him to watch Junho and Junsu following the song without much trouble. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed most of the class, Wooyoung included, concentrating on the sheet music with furrowed eyebrows. The incredibly tall trainee with prominent cheekbones was already singing along and feeling right at ease.
A small movement caught Nichkhun's attention, but by the time he focused on it Junho's eyes were already resolutely fixed on his sheet once more.
"So you want to talk?" Junho asked him as soon as class ended. The other trainees were filing out of the classroom slowly. Some were eyeing the two of them, unsure of what to make of the scene. Wooyoung walked out without a glance.
"I figured you'd grown tired of my singing," Nichkhun said, relieved. "So maybe we should just talk instead. And I haven't fulfilled my part of the bargain by teaching you English yet."
"I'm not stupid. I've never treated you as if you were so please extend the courtesy to me," Junho answered, completely unimpressed. "I may not know you personally, but I know of you. You're mainly Thai but you grew up in America. You're smart, well-educated, and you have classical training with the piano. You dress well and you always have a lot of energy so I assume you don't experience the hunger that the rest of us do. You got here because you were invited in, whereas the rest of us had to go through grueling auditions and competitions just to get a chance. Even if I don't teach you how to sing, I'm sure you can find someone else to help you along. So why are you still talking to me?"
Nichkhun almost reeled back from the tirade of disturbingly accurate details. None of those were particularly private, but that Junho had been paying attention to him... maybe Wooyoung was wrong. Maybe Junho did see Nichkhun as competition after all.
Junho made to leave, but Nichkhun grabbed his shoulder before he could put any real distance between them. "Are you allergic to acts of friendliness?" he asked with an added edge to his voice. If Junho didn't like being coddled, maybe he'd listen to someone being assertive.
"I'm allergic to pity," was Junho's answer.
"I don't pity you."
"Right," Junho sneered. He tried to shrug off Nichkhun's hand, but Nichkhun tightened his grip and forced Junho to face him.
"I don't," Nichkhun insisted, because Junho needed to know that there was no point in comparing the two of them. "You keep looking at the wrong things about me. I'm completely useless at singing and the only reason my dancing doesn't suck is because Jay helps me on the side. My Korean is awful and the only thing people notice about me is my smile. And whether Wooyoung's just an ass or not, he was right: I'm not your competitor. I can't even show up on the same stage as you. So don't think I'm in any position to look down on you because if there's anyone here who needs all the help he can get, it's me."
Nichkhun didn't set any expectations about how Junho would react. At the very least he was hoping for some form of acceptance, or if he'd said the wrong things maybe even rude dismissal. Bitter triumph mixed with a belittling gaze wasn't one he foresaw. "Did you just hear yourself? Are you still so stupidly, so immaturely idealistic that you think talent will determine success? When it's easier to teach someone like you to sing and dance than to make an ugly musician handsome?"
"But you're-"
"Don't bother saying it. Who cares if I can sing and dance or if I'm handsome? I'm no one. I'm worse. People look at me and they see Rain. They watch me dance and they think I'm not as good as Rain. You know this. So just leave me alone." Junho walked away once more, and he almost made it to the door before Nichkhun found the words he wanted to say.
"Then give me a chance to get to know Junho. No dancing, no singing. Let's just... talk about things and stop being trainees for one night."
And when Junho stopped with one foot out the door, Nichkhun knew for once he said the right thing.
~*~
It should have been awkward, but it wasn't.
They should have had conversation, but throughout dinner they were silent.
It should have been enlightening. It was.
They had meat and sausages and congee and Nichkhun mostly just watched Junho eat. Every once in a while Junho would look back with a silent frown and an appraising glint in his eyes, and Nichkhun would offer a smile and focus on his own meal. But whenever Junho looked away again Nichkhun would watch once more and marvel at how Junho exuded self-control during mealtime. Maintaining posture after an exhausting day, never once wincing when the hot congee touched the split on his lip, letting Nichkhun know through sheer body language that he didn't care if Nichkhun was staring... it was surreal.
Nichkhun learned a lot from those few minutes of non-conversation. About the Korean version of omerta. About never letting one's guard down. About always being wary of people watching. About never thinking that you were alone.
Mostly, he learned about things that Taec took for granted and never thought to teach Jay and Nichkhun. He realized why Jay had such a hard time being accepted as Korean even though his blood was purely theirs. Why Nichkhun would always be seen as a foreigner - a novelty - no matter how hard he tried to blend in. The barrier lay beyond looks and language, beyond family trees and purity of intent. Despite the popular media's attempts at ushering in the wave of individuality, Korea was still a culture rooted in collectivism.
But here Junho was, here all the trainees were, caught in the center where two incompatible tenets of belief clashed. Here they were, raised by society to observe rules and etiquette and unwritten codices of proper behavior, but they were pursuing an industry wherein one's individual ability to shine determined his success. There was a very fine road to follow, but one toe out of line could ruin everything someone had been building after years of hard work. The pressure, the dissonance, the insanity of it all... it helped Nichkhun understand.
It helped him understand Chansung's berserker attitude and the overwhelming remorse that came after. It helped him understand Jinwoon's urgency in getting Nichkhun out of there. It helped him understand why everyone was reluctant to reach out and be friends, and why even until now Nichkhun only had Taec and Jay to rely on.
He understood why Coach Dongwook was so exasperated with him but still made sure that Nichkhun wasn't too crushed to continue singing, why he always gave Nichkhun a sliver of hope to hold him afloat. And now that he thought about it, he also understood why Wooyoung did what he did and what he hoped to achieve from it.
He understood why Junho was reluctant in offering to teach him: if Nichkhun succeeded, Junho would be hit by the bitterness of all the other failed trainees for giving the foreigner what he needed to succeed; but if Nichkhun failed, Junho's efforts would be seen as sabotage and he'd be marked as a black sheep of the people for mistreating a guest. There was only one way for Junho to win the situation in which he'd trapped himself, and that was to succeed alongside Nichkhun, to be right there so they could pull each other upwards. It was a long shot, a million-to-one chance. But Junho was getting desperate and he was hedging his bets.
Wooyoung was right: Junho didn't see Nichkhun as competition. Junho chose Nichkhun as a potential teammate because he knew deeply that talent wasn't everything and charisma influenced more than it should. Nichkhun was the embodiment of Junho's frustrations: someone who always got noticed even if he wasn't any good. And instead of resisting, Junho decided to partner with him so he could be noticed as well. He had decided to teach Nichkhun how to sing so that if his bets paid off, they would do so spectacularly.
And in the meantime, Junho would have the perfect opportunity to learn from Nichkhun the one thing the lack of which always kept him from being noticed: charisma. It wasn't something Nichkhun could teach. But he would be glad to let Junho learn.
"I ate well," he heard Junho say.
Nichkhun pulled himself out of contemplation just in time to gesture to Junho to put his wallet away. "I'm the hyung," Nichkhun reminded him. "This means I get to pay right?"
"Just because you're older doesn't mean you're automatically my hyung," Junho answered.
The words were sharp but Nichkhun considered it a triumph that Junho's tone was softer. Patient. Educational. It wasn't friendly yet, but at least it hinted that friendliness was a possibility. "Let me pay, still. In return for our first two lessons."
Junho ignored him and started counting out bills.
"Please?" Nichkhun added with a pout and blasting Junho with the full effects of his doe eyes. He might as well learn from experience.
Junho looked electrified. It took him a minute to regain his composure and to pocket his wallet with slightly trembling hands. "Just this once."
Nichkhun grinned at him and called for the waitress.
He couldn't help it if he was smiling a little too brightly when he returned to the dorm. He couldn't fault Jay and Taec for reaching the obvious conclusion, but he didn't offer any explanations.
[- part 2 -]
Author: verocity
Fandom: 2PM
Featuring: Nichkhun-centric, Chansung, Jaebum, Taecyeon, Junho, Junsu, Wooyoung (Jinwoon cameo)
Pairings: Taec/Jay on the side
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cursing, mild sexual scene
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 17,199.
A/N: For the onedaybb 2011 challenge. Started 8/19/2011. Officially the longest single story I have written so far... and there's going to be a sequel to be posted next month. To think I was wondering if I could close the fic in 10K~ish words *grumble*
But more importantly, the musically creative geniebsmart collaborated with me and composed a wonderful musical interpretation of the story. Her video does a very good job of summarizing the fic. Watch the awesomeness and let it pump the blood in your veins!
Click to viewHeard it? Felt it? Are you ready?
Then let's begin.
This story is about many things.
This story is about personal growth. This is not necessarily a story about maturity, but it can be read that way. The maturation of people depends very heavily on the surrounding culture, and each culture and each person is different. For every perceived nugget of maturity behind every action, there is a hairline crack of fragility ready to give in. Maturity has little to do with age but has plenty to do with time, and time passes differently for each one.
This is not a story about good people versus bad people, although you may be able to identify some characters here as 'good' or 'bad'. Instead, this story is about people being people the best way - perhaps even the only way - they know how. This is a story about selfishness and self-centeredness, but more importantly this story is about the difference between the two. Who is who and which is which? The writer has his opinions and he invites you to form your own.
On a deeper level, this story is about pressure and sanity and why the two must achieve a delicate balance for the mind to reach its peak. Too much of the former opens the road to padded walls and jackets with too-long sleeves, while too much of the latter invites complacency and the stagnation of creativity. But balance the two - exert the right pressure and maintain proper sanity - and the mind can achieve greatness that may outshine the mere sum of its parts.
But at its deepest, this story is about relationships: how they are formed, how they are strengthened, how they die off, and maybe even how they just appear out of nowhere. Part of it will be about sex, but not in the count-the-legs-and-divide-by-two kind of way (unless the characters go wildly out of the author's control). It could be about why relationships are. Not necessarily about "why relationships are something," just why relationships are.
It may not tell us why Nichkhun wants to see goodness in every person, but it may explain the drive behind the behavior. It may tell us about Taecyeon's courage and Jaebum's desire for familiarity and why those two mix so well. It might even tell us about Junsu's unshakeable belief in his talents, Wooyoung's approach to competition, and why Junho is so magnificent. It might even tell us about Chansung's easy laugh and solid confidence. Who knows?
The story knows.
The story is here to be told.
~*~
"You're a prince?" Chansung asked in disbelief one day, in the shade of a tree that hid them from the brilliant sunset that painted Seoul in swathes of burning red.
"By blood," Nichkhun answered as he picked on a few blades of grass. "And so watered down that there's no way I'm actually royalty."
"Wow," said Chansung, dazzled and failing to hide it. "I've never been friends with royalty before."
"I just told you-"
"Don't worry about it! Here in Korea, blood is blood. You're royalty. Heck, you even look it!" Chansung chuckled at the high end of his voice and Nichkhun has just gotten used to the sound. It was a big sound, energetic and kind, a perfect representation of the person behind it.
And maybe that was why Nichkhun liked hanging out with Chansung. He'd accepted that the world wasn't all about sunshine and pretty clouds, particularly here in Korea where everyone was so driven and competitive and maybe just a tad unwelcoming to people who looked different, but for a few minutes each day he could pretend otherwise. A few minutes each day when he didn't suffocate in stinky sweat-stuffed training rooms and judging eyes and watching his body in the mirror, focused so he could do his angles and waves and pops and locks satisfactorily. A few minutes each day when he could hide out here in a small patch of green just behind JYPE's main studios with someone who cared less about singing and dancing and more about who he was behind the winks and smiles.
"I'm no more a prince than you," Nichkhun insisted demurely, and meant it. He wanted to tell Chansung that it wasn't really that big a deal: multiple generations of polyamorous Thai royalty made it hard to find someone who wasn't royal to a degree. But even as he thought it, even as he reminded himself that he wasn't special (and it was hard to feel special when surrounded by his fellow trainees, almost all of whom were more talented than him, and the best of them all happened to be his best friend), for this moment he relished the open friendliness. And despite his insistence otherwise, it was nice to feel royal around somebody who appreciated the history in his blood. Taecyeon and Jaebum were great friends in their own ways and for whom Nichkhun would give his life, but they'd both grown so comfortable with the American ideal of individuality that the concept of pride in royalty was entirely lost on them.
"But you are!" Chansung gushed. "You're so calm and so poised and you smile all the time, and you're good at making people feel special..."
"I don't know about that," Nichkhun broke in while Chansung was taking a deep breath in preparation for a litany of Nichkhun's princely characteristics. "And I'm not here as a prince. I'm here on the same level as you. As a trainee."
Chansung guffawed at those words. Nichkhun considered that had it been anyone else the action would have been offensive. "You'll do great, Prince Nichkhun Hyung!" Chansung said. "It'll be impossible for you not to make it big. I'll be your number one fan and I'll leave you marriage proposals all over Cyworld. I'll even buy socks with your face on them and throw used underwear at you during concerts!"
Nichkhun rolled his eyes at the exaggeration. "I don't stand a chance. You've seen the others dance, right? And you've heard the singers?"
"I can't dance or sing either, but I'm still around."
"Yeah, but you can rap," Nichkhun countered.
"Not as well as Jaebum," Chansung said, slightly subdued. "But it's impossible for me to be as good as Jaebum at anything."
"Jay's a great guy," Nichkhun said generously, "but you're great at other things. I should make the two of you meet. He'd love to hang out with you."
Chansung was visibly tempted, but he declined the offer in the end. "I literally wouldn't know what to say. And I'm not cool enough to hang out with him."
That was puzzling. Not cool enough? Had someone redefined 'cool' without alerting Nichkhun? Because as awesome as Jay was, Nichkhun couldn't quite reconcile someone who farted unabashedly every time and who probably knew only two adjectives (one began with an f and the other with a g) with whatever image Chansung had of him. It was possible that they were thinking about the same person, but only just...
Nichkhun was on the verge of extolling a long list of Jay's vices to shatter this imaginary pedestal when his phone rang the generic, electronic tone he hadn't the heart to replace yet. Chansung shrugged and Nichkhun flipped it open. "Yes?" he said, with Chansung watching his mouth in case lip-reading might help him understand the English.
"I still don't know where you sneak off to during afternoon break," Taecyeon's voice blared from the speaker, "but you'd better get back here soon. Bad news. Your voice trainer arrived early."
"Oh," Nichkhun sighed, his shoulders sagging. It wasn't actually bad news. Just... unwelcome. "I'll be right back. Is Jay there with you?"
"He's happily making gay babies with Kwon."
"Aww. Sorry, Taec, I didn't mean to leave you alone and unable to fulfill your insatiable need for contact." Nichkhun got to his feet and gestured for Chansung to do the same, and the latter happily obliged. He switched the conversation over to speaker mode so Chansung wouldn't feel left out. It wasn't a well-thought out idea, but the sentiment counted.
Taec's laugh had always been unselfconscious and probably always will be. "Hey. Don't forget: you're the girl in this relationship."
"You have a girl?" Chansung gasped, excited at understanding a word and that maybe there's a princess for him to meet as well. Nichkhun gestured wildly for him to keep quiet.
"Who's there with you?" Taec asked immediately, his curiosity traveling well despite the static. "I swear to god, Khun, if you and Jay trade me off for someone else, I will be a blubbering mess post break-up."
"Now who's the girl in this relationship?" Nichkhun countered as he and Chansung began their trudge to one of the building's many back doors.
"That's sexism, that is. And Nichkhun Buck Horvatever, are you actually making friends with someone who isn't me or Jay? This is a cause for celebration!"
Nichkhun ended the call with an audible snap of his phone.
"You have grass on your butt," Chansung happily informed him. "I would wipe it off, but I'm not fit to touch the butt of royalty."
"But you felt fine just looking?" Nichkhun wiped his pants with as much dignity as he could. "And I'd like you to meet Taecyeon and Jaebum. If you're not doing anything later."
Chansung grinned brightly as if Nichkhun had told him he was fit to wipe the butt of royalty after all. Unfortunately, Chansung had always been physically expressive, and his aegyo had Nichkhun crumpled against the wall and wondering if JYPE's health care policy covered injury from people who were too affectionate.
~*~
Vocal training was, as always, just this step shy of a disaster.
Nichkhun was familiar with keys and progressions and arpeggios, and his sufficient musical training gave him an ear for blending and tonal harmony and knowing if he was on tune. But, as the voice coach politely pointed out (while the meaner trainees did so happily), there was a difference between knowing what a descending arpeggio was, being able to play it on a piano, and actually being able sing it. There was such a thing as perfect vocal pitch and Nichkhun unfortunately did not have it.
"Maybe you could learn from another trainee," coach Dongwook said in exasperated English. "Junsu, come up here and do it."
"Yes, coach Dongwook," a tall, dark-skinned boy seated at the front row said as he stood up.
Nichkhun dejectedly got back to his seat. He told himself to pay attention to the lesson and to not listen to the satisfied murmurs that erupted behind him. He ignored the fact that Junsu was the best singer in this batch, and being compared to him just made Nichkhun's own vocal shortcomings appear that much sharper.
"A pretty face until he opens his mouth," he heard and very carefully avoided reacting to.
In front of everyone, Junsu was in his element and had moved on from basic chords to descending minor ninths and augmented thirteens, the top notes of which were way beyond Nichkhun's vocal range. Coach Dongwook played the keyboard with an air of satisfaction that almost bordered on pride, and that was high praise from any of JYPE's vocal trainers.
Not for the first time, Nichkhun wished the rap training sessions didn't have the same schedule; although Jay could definitely do his own brand of vocal gymnastics, Taec and Chansung couldn't and Nichkhun wouldn't have to suffer alone.
Something soft and crinkly hit the back of his head. Nichkhun breathed in deep. He'd just successfully counted down from a furious ten to a passably calm one when another one hit him again. He looked down and saw writing on one of the crumpled balls of paper. He waited until the teacher called for another student to the front for his turn before carefully reaching for the note.
Open it, idiot! it said in spiky English letters.
Puzzled, Nichkhun reached for the other crumpled sheet and read, in the same handwriting, Your singing tense. You relax. Stay after training?
Nichkhun decided that calm bemusement was the best possible reaction and opted for that. This was his last training session for the day anyway; Jay still had break dancing and Taec had hosting for another hour and a half, and Nichkhun always waited for them by going through his Korean textbooks so they could go back to the dorms together.
Somehow, knowing there was another friendly face in the crowd made the rest of the session more bearable. He wondered who it was; Nichkhun studied everyone who stepped up to the front, watching for knowing glances sent his way (none) or carefully averted eyes (many) as if there was a black hole where he was seated. In the end he still didn't have a clue, and the selfish inner Nichkhun he tried hard to rein - the one that delighted in Chansung's worshipping - huffed that this mysterious friend should at least be one of the good vocalists and too bad it obviously wasn't Junsu. The rest of his mind countered that Nichkhun was among the worst anyway, so if anyone wanted to help him, they were welcome.
Class ended with Nichkhun still clueless. Coach Dongwook handed out the score for a song that they had to learn by next week. Nichkhun's heart fell when he saw that the lyrics were in Korean; he could read Hangul (passably) and sing in Korean (if he really concentrated), but doing both at the same time was beyond him.
He waited for everyone in the group to take their copy and leave the studio, but someone approached him even before the room emptied out.
"I help you," someone said in carefully enunciated speaking-to-English-teachers voice. It was a boy Nichkhun had never spoken to before but found oddly familiar nonetheless. One of the better ones, noted the inner Nichkhun. "Is that okay?"
Nichkhun stood up and bowed casually polite, which Taec had insisted was different from the formally polite or casually relaxed forms.
The boy bowed back. "Good. Now. Sing."
"Erm," Nichkhun gaped, because singing on command was something that singers did and Nichkhun was as far from being a singer as Jay was from any definition of 'tall'.
"Don't make me regret doing this," the boy muttered, obviously to himself. Nichkhun could practically read the English words knocking around in his volunteer trainer's head.
"The teachers speak to me in English but I can understand Korean now," he said clearly albeit a bit stiffly. "I don't understand idioms or complicated words, but I'm not completely lost." And even though he knew that everyone knew his name, he still added, "I'm Nichkhun."
"Yes, I know. I'm Junho."
There was another round of bowing and Nichkhun tactfully ignored the blush forming on Junho's neck. Nichkhun suddenly realized why Junho looked oddly familiar. "You know, you really look like R-"
"Don't even say that name," Junho hissed, and the vehemence behind it startled Nichkhun.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Nevermind. Now please sing and I'll tell you where to improve on."
Nichkhun did.
It wasn't his best performance and he was pretty sure he'd just botched yet another Backstreet Boys song for the millionth time in this reality, not to mention taking it several keys lower, but it was easier than the Titanic theme song or anything by N'Sync. Nichkhun took it as a victory when Junho still hadn't ran out of the studio bleeding out of his ears by the time he hit the first chorus. But Junho did rub pointedly at his temples several times. "That bad, huh?" Nichkhun asked awkwardly.
Junho's reply came after a moment of deliberation. "You have good pronunciation," he said constructively.
Nichkhun chose to laugh at the implication instead of being affronted, but he sounded forced and uncomfortable. "Yeah," he said, self-conscious. "It may be the only thing I'm good at. But you'll help me, right?"
"Look, I'm not offering to do this for free," Junho said bluntly. "And I'm not talking about money. I can sing but I suck at English. You're fluent in English but your singing needs a lot of help. Do you understand or do I have to spell it out for you?"
"It's perfectly clear."
"Good. Let's start with your breathing. Sit and watch your reflection and relax."
~*~
Somehow, in his months of training so far, Khun never realized that singing was so complicated.
"And none of the teachers have ever said anything about it," Khun raged as he, Jay, and Taec walked back to the trainee dorms together. He'd invited Chansung over for snacks, but a very large boy with the disposition of a bunny and a smile easily as bright as Nichkhun's was charming intercepted them and dragged Chansung away before Taec and Jay made it back from the restroom.
"Khun, were you under the impression that singing is just speaking in tune?" Taec asked sardonically.
"You're one to talk," Jay butted in with a sharp elbow jab that caught Taecyeon as he was breathing in.
"I know it's more than that," Nichkhun said dejectedly. "I just expected the trainers to teach me how to do it properly. But here I am, learning from a fellow trainee."
"You're making friends at a remarkable pace!" Taec insisted. "Make some more and I might start thinking you're jealous of my popularity."
Nichkhun snorted and Jay grimaced. "Taec. This thing of yours you call 'popularity'? Not what you think."
"Some would say, 'notoriety'," Khun added. He discretely bumped Jay's fist behind Taec's back. Random passersby stared as three doubtlessly Asian teenagers spoke in fluent English, though some eyes lingered on Nichkhun or Taecyeon and Jay pretended not to notice. Nichkhun felt sick at the irony: people clearly missed who the right person was to watch.
Taec bared his teeth at them. Nichkhun refrained from pointing out his resemblance to a farm horse.
"I suppose I should listen to a prince when he educates me for free," Taec said with the absence of irony in his voice, which was his own way of being sarcastic. Taec was usually nice, but he wasn't a saint. "I'm so sorry, your highness. I shall consume a dictionary tonight so as to avoid further offending your sensibilities."
Nichkhun paused in mid-step. His blood rushed from his face in horror. Of course they'd already spoken to Chansung: they shared rap training and Taec probably recognized his voice even over the phone.
"Hey! His royal majesty must be tired!" Jay exclaimed. "Taec, we can't let his precious legs get strained! Thailand may decide to invade Korea if they learn of our crude sense of hospitality!"
And before Nichkhun could react at the indignity of it all, he was swept off his feet as Taec grabbed him by the armpits and Jay took him by the knees. His yells of protest and their boyish laughter traced the alleys of Seoul the rest of the way to their dorm and they knew tonight would be another good night.
They were high and they were having the time of their lives. Too high for gravity to call them down.
~*~
"Don't look now, but there are a couple of creepy stalker fanboys checking you out," Taecyeon told him during lunch the next day.
"As if that's not worrisome at all, thanks," Nichkhun replied, untroubled, as he took another spoonful of jjigae. He'd long ago gotten used to being stared at.
"No, seriously. They're both massive and one of them looks like he doesn't have eyes. We could tell Jay to beat them up after training."
Nichkhun slowly drew his eyes away from his tray to give Taec a look. "So, to be perfectly clear: you're volunteering Jay's violence. Not yours. But Jay's?"
Taec grinned at him and slowly snaked a palm down his own chest in what he clearly thought was a seductive fashion, saying, "I'm a weapon of mass destruction, man. One look at my sweaty body and everyone in the vicinity would melt."
"Sure. From the vile odor," Nichkhun clarified and Taec guffawed.
"Erm. Excuse me?" said a depressingly familiar voice.
Nichkhun didn't need to see who it was for his confidence to drop a couple of notches. "Yes, hello. Junsu, right?"
"Yeah," Junsu answered. "Thanks for remembering. Hey, listen, I heard you and Junho practicing yesterday-"
"Have a seat," Taec interrupted with a gesture at an empty chair. Junsu shook his head politely at the offer but Nichkhun didn't miss the way his eyebrow quirked at Taec's sea blue and pink shirt.
"- and he's an okay singer," Junsu continued. "But you should know that he learned how to sing from choir. That's different from what we're learning to do here. So be careful around him, alright?" Junsu left before Nichkhun could completely register the warning for what it was.
"Well there's a thing," Taecyeon muttered as they both watched Junsu sit down with a couple of people with similar levels of talent. "He's colorful. I like him."
"'Him'? If you're getting a boyfriend, keep your gay to yourself, man," came Jay's familiar drawl, and the way he swung his legs over the chair looked impossibly graceful for such a mundane action.
"Jokwon," was Taec's one-word reply. Jay's cheekbones tinged red and he started dismantling his dumplings.
"Khun, there are a couple of guys looking at you with hearts in their eyes."
"We've been over that."
"We were thinking you could go beat them up," Taec added. A beat of silence followed. "What? We can't have anyone ogling our prince like that. He might think our countrymen are disrespectful."
Nichkhun buried his face in his hands and tried to repair the composure that his friends could so effortlessly shatter. "For the last time, I was going to tell you-"
"Yeah, we're not on that anymore, and your fanboys have already left anyway. One of them was that Chansung guy from yesterday."
"Wait, it was?" Taec asked, surprised.
Nichkhun and Jay stared at him. "Are you wearing your contacts?" Nichkhun asked.
Taec frowned and rubbed at the base of his eyes. "I need to get new ones. Or else I'd have to wear glasses again."
Nichkhun grinned at the image while Jay scoffed at the idea. "Wear your dorktacles in public and we won't hang out anymore. At all. I mean it."
"Jay, you know you can't stand not having me around."
Nichkhun felt he missed an inside joke somewhere. He pouted as he pondered the recent conversation.
"Aww, don't worry, Khun!" Taec announced cheerfully. "Jay and I will never leave you. We're gonna grow old together like spinsters and I'll adopt cats and Jay's going to dislocate his hip while break dancing at a ripe old age of ninety-one and you're gonna inherit the throne so we can all live in the royal palace together!"
The impossible was almost achieved when Jay - Park Jaebum - gaped like he was at a loss for words, but reality asserted itself once more and Jay reestablished his eloquence. "I didn't think it was possible, but you're actually fucking gayer than Kwon."
"Aww, I love you too, Jay!"
Nichkhun's forehead thunked loudly against the cafeteria table. "I wonder if I could buy better friends at the night market."
"Money doesn't solve everything, Khun!"
"Unfortunately."
~*~
His first voice lesson with Junho during the morning break period didn't go as smoothly as Nichkhun hoped.
"No, open your mouth!"
"My mouth is open!"
"Open your mouth more! Listen, singing isn't just about making your voice stay on key. It's also about producing a sound that people will want to hear."
Nichkhun closed his eyes and fought down the frustration.
"Open your eyes! You have to see you how you open your mouth first before you can sing casually."
"You know," Nichkhun said between calming breaths, "I think I prefer the way our trainers teach us. Not all these breathing exercises and proper posturing and things. Real singing."
"And did you get any better? Seriously, answer me."
Nichkhun didn't have to.
It's not that he didn't like what Junho was making him do because he did hear the humongous difference in how he sounded when he followed those unfamiliar instructions. But... there was just something about Junho today that rubbed him the wrong way. It was a feeling that Nichkhun had always tried to suppress. He'd always thought that people should be understood by their actions, not for causing weird feelings of irritation the root of which he couldn't justify anyway. And as much as Nichkhun liked to think that he was a rational person, he knew he could only act in cold intellect if his emotions weren't making any play for attention.
"Did you learn to sing like this?" Nichkhun asked plainly, doing his best to keep the edge of antagonism suppressed.
Junho's silence sounded like a downshift of Nichkhun's intelligence. "Of course. Why do you think I'm teaching you this way?"
"It's just that," in some detached section of his brain, Nichkhun knew what he was going to say next wouldn't win him any points with Junho, but the prickle of irritation was making very clear demands and they were not about to back down, "Junsu doesn't seem to bother with these kinds of techniques."
The silent implication of his words echoed deafeningly loud in the studio: and he's much better than you.
For a moment Nichkhun thought he'd crossed a very important line and he'd have to find a way to get better at singing by himself. And for a livid moment Junho looked like the only thing he wanted in the world was make Nichkhun a walking, talking bruise. But all that came of the moment was self-defeated smirk and a taunt that promised broken bones. "Is it nice to rub it in?"
And for the first time Nichkhun realized that he was being too self-absorbed. He wasn't the one worst off in their batch of trainees. Because when it came down to it, Nichkhun would be able to find a future elsewhere. He had the connections, he had the background, he had the skills, and most of all his family had money. He could go to university without having to worry about student loans and he could pick up modeling gigs wherever he went because he had the right face, build, and posture for the camera.
But Junho... he occupied that unenviable position of looking like a lesser version of someone who was already Someone but without being good enough to overcome the borrowed spotlight. He'd always be seen as the look-alike. The kiddie version. The fun-sized Rain. And Junho wanted nothing more than to succeed in this industry. He was competent. But that wasn't enough.
Nichkhun backed off.
"No," he said. "I'm sorry. Thank you for taking the time to teach me." And he meant it.
Junho watched him intently for what felt like hours, but his eyes were unreadable even if his shoulders were still bared and his nostrils were flared. He exhaled a deep breath and said, "Good. Now open your mouth, relax your jaw and follow the scales." He played a broken C# triad and Nichkhun sang from the root.
The inner Nichkhun crowed bitterly that at least he could play the keys better than Junho, but Nichkhun pushed the voice to the back of his head.
~*~
"Hey, Prince Hyung!" Chansung greeted as he approached their spot with a plastic bag in his hands. "Wow, you look exhausted today."
"Hey," Nichkhun greeted back. "I'm just... stressed. Very stressed."
"Really? Then I guess I brought the perfect snack after all," Chansung said with a grin as he crossed his long legs and settled on the ground. He ruffled his parcel open and produced, to Nichkhun's surprise, a comb of bananas. "Potassium's a great way to resist stress. Good for digestion and stuff and it helps with breathing. Or is it circulation? Sorry, I don't really pay attention to health ed."
Nichkhun laughed for what felt like the first time that day. "I'm surprised you remembered that much."
"It was about bananas. How could I not?" Chansung shrugged with a wave of humor and peeled his banana with the ease and grace of having practiced at least a thousand times. It was a simple thing, but Nichkhun couldn't stop watching. Chansung raised the fruit to Nichkhun's mouth and said, "Open your mouth."
"What?" Nichkhun asked, startled because just an hour ago he'd associated that command with the very strong urge to punch whoever said it.
"Ah~" Chansung suggested.
"Oh." Nichkhun remembered that it was a sign of respect among Koreans to feed each other. It was a hard lesson to forget: Jay freaked out and almost flipped their table over the first time Taec tried to feed him a lettuce wrap. The word 'gay' has been permanently affiliated to a great number of things Nichkhun never thought of as even remotely sexual before. Jay was particularly talented in that area.
Nichkhun opened his mouth and suppressed his speculations of how Jay would react should Taecyeon ever try to feed him a banana.
If the conditions were right and if the area was private enough, it might be worth watching. And rewatching. Ad infinitum.
"Why are you so stressed anyway, Prince Hyung?" Chansung asked, showing the world the half-masticated mush of a banana currently occupying his mouth.
It was another lesson in basic Korean idiosyncrasies that Taec painstakingly taught them. (Well, more to Nichkhun than Jay. For obvious reasons. It was the first time the words "Fuckin' finally! Something that isn't gay!" were ever heard from Park Jaebum's mouth.) And speaking of his best friends...
Nichkhun swallowed his mouthful of fruit and avoided Chansung's inquiry. "So I guess you've met Jay and Taec?"
"Yeah, and you were so right about them! Jaebum-hyung is so cool and he didn't make fun of me when I tried to talk to him in English, and Taecyeon-hyung is so friendly and shit! And- oh! I probably shouldn't swear in front of royalty. Sorry, hyung..."
And perhaps that was what brought the contrast between Taec and Jay and Chansung. Funny how such a thing about him told him more about his friends.
"But how'd you know I met Jaebum-hyung and Taecyeon-hyung, anyway?" Chansung asked, drawing Nichkhun out of his reverie.
"They started teasing me about being a prince. They never did that before."
"Hmmm," Chansung hummed as he took another bite. It was followed by a sharper, higher, "Oh! They didn't know? You never told them? I just thought, since they're your best friends and all, and they told me I could call them 'hyung' as long as I kept talking about you, I..."
"It's fine, don't worry about it. Jay and Taec meant well, I'm sure."
"But why haven't you told them, Prince Hyung? I mean, I tell my best friend everything so I thought..."
"I never really found a reason to tell them before," Nichkhun admitted. "They are my best friends, and if I know something that would affect them I'd tell them in a heartbeat. But... I just never got around to this one."
"Ugh, sorry, hyung! I should have kept my mouth shut," and Chansung looked so remorseful that Nichkhun had to draw him into half a hug so they'd both feel better.
"Hey, don't worry about it. If it hadn't been for you, I'd probably never have let them know at all."
"So why'd you tell me?" Chansung asked with all the grace of a rhinoceros.
Nichkhun just smiled at him in response. He raised a banana to Chansung's lips even if the younger boy was already chewing.
Fortunately, uncharacteristically, Chansung took the hint.
~*~
All of Nichkhun's misgivings about Junho's way of teaching subsided when coach Dongwook pronounced Nichkhun's vocalization exercise 'serviceable'. Nichkhun flashed a brilliant smile at Junho as he made his way back to his seat, but his makeshift voice teacher didn't bother to look at him at all.
He knew better than to expect silence from everyone else, though; the voices extolling his flaws as a performer were weaker today, but that didn't mean they didn't have anything to say.
"... look at him, so satisfied just because he stayed on key ..."
"... could afford additional training, as if that makes him better ..."
"... come on, cut him some slack. He did okay up front ..."
"... be so worried. He'll never make the cut ..."
"Maybe you're not so hopeless after all," said a slightly familiar voice right behind him.
Nichkhun turned in his seat and came face to face with a boy with saggy cheeks and forgettably plain eyes. Someone he took variety show production classes with. "Thanks," Nichkhun said uncertainly.
The boy just rolled his eyes at Nichkhun and reverted his attention to the exceptionally tall trainee who was belting an adlib to coach Dongwook's tune. Nichkhun righted his posture once more and smiled when the trainee's voice cracked when the tune transposed three keys higher. It wasn't that he thought meanly of the student's performance; Nichkhun just liked to remember that even the top of the class also had their limits, and somehow it made him feel that he may not be so hopeless after all.
"So you still doubt me?" Junho asked him after training when they had the studio to themselves again.
"No," Nichkhun answered even if it was obvious, because some things needed to be said and this was something that Junho needed to hear.
"Great. Since now you have an idea of how to stay in and shift keys with your voice, let's work on your projection." Junho took his position behind the keyboard Nichkhun took that as his cue to face the mirror. Behind his reflection he saw the plain-eyed boy from earlier enter the studio with an amused air to his gait.
"Figures that you've been teaching him, Junho," the boy said with a playfully mean edge to his tone.
Junho's fingers froze above the keys. "Get out. Before I throw you out. I mean it, Wooyoung."
"What are you giving him in return?" Wooyoung asked Nichkhun directly. "Must be something valuable. Junho doesn't even talk to competitors at all."
"Get the fuck out," Junho hissed, droplets of spittle flying to the keyboard and hands gripping his monobloc chair tightly. Nichkhun watched the two of them, completely lost at the overwhelming aggression between two people whom he'd never even thought knew each other.
"Oh, now I get it," Wooyoung continued with a sardonic twinkle in his eyes aimed at Nichkhun. "You're not competition."
Only the adrenaline flooding his system allowed Nichkhun to move fast enough to restrain Junho from behind. He felt good about himself for reacting quickly enough to prevent a fight, but the moment was short-lived when Junho elbowed him right in his solar plexus and Nichkhun collapsed to a grunting heap on the floor and trying to fight back the nausea. He was vaguely aware of a fight escalating in his presence, of voices being raised and more people coming into the room and the sickening sound of a hit landing on a body. He tried to see what was going on, but Junho's elbow had been hard and strong and perfectly aimed. He knew he should be bigger than this, stronger than a helpless lump on the floor when there was violence that should be stopped, but it was hard to feel chivalric when his lungs were in a state of emergency and there were tears of pain clouding the world.
For a moment, all he could see were blurred suggestions of feet on the floor.
It took several seconds for his body to catch up on recent events. His lungs stopped trying to suck in all the air in the room and he wiped his eyes to clear his vision. He looked up just in time to see Wooyoung leaving, apparently unharmed. Junho was on the floor and nursing a bleeding lip while, to Nichkhun's complete surprise, Chansung looked like he had gone berserk and the only thing stopping him from eviscerating Junho right then and there was the giant who had him in an arm lock.
Junho wiped the blood off his lips and smirked at it in disgust. "Fuck this," he told Chansung, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. "After what we've been through for years, you hit me for someone you barely even know. I see where I stand now, Chansung."
Whatever more he had to say about betrayed friendships were forgotten when his eyes fell on Nichkhun. "And fuck you. You're not even welcome here. Go back to where you belong."
Chansung erupted in a fresh wave of struggles as he tried to get at Junho's retreating back. "Shhhh, calm down, Chansungie," the other guy said calmingly even though his muscles were about to burst from the effort. He tried to smile at Nichkhun, but the best he could make given the circumstance was an apologetic grimace with crescent eyes. "He's not usually like this. He only gets violent when people hurt his friends."
Nichkhun took one last deep breath to make sure his lungs were back to normal before he rubbed the back of Chansung's neck. "I'm fine. And he didn't mean it. I just got overexcited. And careless."
Chansung stopped struggling but his teeth were still bared at the floor. "I'm okay now, Jinwoon."
"You sure? You can't sucker me in like last time-"
"Jinwoon, let go. I'm calm," Chansung repeated and Jinwoon knowingly let go of Chansung's arms. "Sorry you had to see me like this, hyung," Chansung added without meeting Nichkhun's eyes. He turned away and crouched by the corner in a perfect picture of pathetic self-flagellation.
"Hey," Nichkhun started, but Jinwoon's hand on his shoulder made him pause.
"He's okay. Just... it might be best if you give him space."
Jinwoon's words were perfectly clear, but Nichkhun found the meaning behind them harder to understand.
"Please, Nichkhun-sshi," Jinwoon pleaded. Nichkhun nodded and walked out of the studio as quickly as he could.
Belatedly, he realized that Jinwoon had every right to drive Nichkhun away. Jinwoon knew Chansung longer and more deeply. And Although Jinwoon was massive, Chansung was definitely stronger, which meant Jinwoon's ability to restrain him relied less on strength and more on Chansung's trust. Which meant that if there was anyone who knew anything about how to deal with an upset Chansung, it was Jinwoon.
It didn't make him feel any less guilty. Language or cultural barriers were no excuses for this one.
Nichkhun wondered if being a bad friend was Thailand's curse for royalty serving another country.
~*~
"Wow, you're great company tonight," Taecyeon said with a slight tinge of worry he failed to hide.
Nichkhun grumbled something incoherent and focused on his jjajjangmyeon.
"Okay, that's all I have," Taecyeon said, passing the metaphoric baton to Jay. "Your turn to coax him out of that boulder he lives under."
Jay shrugged carelessly. "He'll snap out of it," he said around a mouthful of noodles.
Taec glowered at those words, and Nichkhun found it weird because Taec never extended his personal standards of behavior to other people. But whether Jay didn't see or just didn't care, Nichkhun didn't know. He excused himself from their small dinner gathering in the living room, muttering excuses about being exhausted and training tomorrow and he's just doesn't have the appetite tonight.
The last thing he heard before he shut the shared bedroom door is Taec saying, "What the hell, Jay? Can you for once not leave the emotional stuff to me?"
Nichkhun wasn't in the right state of mind to pick it apart.
~*~
When he awoke the morning after, he had a full five minutes of groggy bliss before he realized why he was feeling so miserable. Jay and Taec just let him be.
"Everyone has their bad days," Jay told him over a breakfast of eggs and ramyeon. Taec looked like he wanted to snort.
Nichkhun accepted the attempt at comfort with a smile. He focused on eating and wondered if he could buy bananas on their way to the training studios.
~*~
He could. He did. He almost bought a whole crate.
He waited under their tree with a bag of fruit and a bitter taste in his mouth.
He left the bag there when afternoon break ended.
He washed the disappointment away with a can of iced coffee and willed himself to focus on other people and other responsibilities. He'd get his chance. If the world had any good in it, he'd get his chance to make this right.
~*~
Nichkhun knew that what little he'd learned from Junho wouldn't be enough to get him by in class. He could study the assignment by himself, but the trainer had obviously already written him off as musically hopeless so the best he could hope to get from that was know the lyrics and be familiar with the tune. But to actually sing it, he needed more practice. More training with someone who was willing to give him the time of day.
He survived the vocal harmony exercises by mostly sticking to the melody while the partner assigned to him took care of everything else. Out of pity or out of practicality Nichkhun didn't care then because there was nothing he could have done. But he paid close attention to Junho's turn, during which he was partnered with Junsu.
Listening to them was a surreal experience. Nichkhun realized only then just how sharply their singing styles contrasted: Junsu was very deliberately a hybrid between R&B and hip hop in the way he broke his notes and formed atonal melodies, making him easy to listen to but hard to relate with; whereas Junho's style lacked the sparkle that could draw people in but made up for it with endurance and a solid grounding on the basics of music.
Junho stood in front of the class and followed the meter and progression with a neutral expression, providing a steady base to Junsu's vocal acrobatics. The results were interesting. Not necessarily good, but definitely interesting.
The coach assessed them as individually capable but incompatible as a group. By the way Junsu and Junho didn't react, Nichkhun assumed they reached the same conclusion.
"Can we talk?" Nichkhun asked Junho as he passed by on his way back to his seat. Whether Junho heard him or not, Nichkhun didn't know, but they weren't going anywhere until the coach dismissed them from class.
They finally started studying Keuraedo Sarangida. Coach Dongwook played the piano accompaniment twice so the class could get familiarized with the music, then he played the melody line and let the students follow (or fail to follow) on their own. It didn't take long for Nichkhun to realize that the song was a ballad. It wasn't a welcome thought. Ballads were hard. Ballads were very technical.
He glanced behind him to watch Junho and Junsu following the song without much trouble. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed most of the class, Wooyoung included, concentrating on the sheet music with furrowed eyebrows. The incredibly tall trainee with prominent cheekbones was already singing along and feeling right at ease.
A small movement caught Nichkhun's attention, but by the time he focused on it Junho's eyes were already resolutely fixed on his sheet once more.
"So you want to talk?" Junho asked him as soon as class ended. The other trainees were filing out of the classroom slowly. Some were eyeing the two of them, unsure of what to make of the scene. Wooyoung walked out without a glance.
"I figured you'd grown tired of my singing," Nichkhun said, relieved. "So maybe we should just talk instead. And I haven't fulfilled my part of the bargain by teaching you English yet."
"I'm not stupid. I've never treated you as if you were so please extend the courtesy to me," Junho answered, completely unimpressed. "I may not know you personally, but I know of you. You're mainly Thai but you grew up in America. You're smart, well-educated, and you have classical training with the piano. You dress well and you always have a lot of energy so I assume you don't experience the hunger that the rest of us do. You got here because you were invited in, whereas the rest of us had to go through grueling auditions and competitions just to get a chance. Even if I don't teach you how to sing, I'm sure you can find someone else to help you along. So why are you still talking to me?"
Nichkhun almost reeled back from the tirade of disturbingly accurate details. None of those were particularly private, but that Junho had been paying attention to him... maybe Wooyoung was wrong. Maybe Junho did see Nichkhun as competition after all.
Junho made to leave, but Nichkhun grabbed his shoulder before he could put any real distance between them. "Are you allergic to acts of friendliness?" he asked with an added edge to his voice. If Junho didn't like being coddled, maybe he'd listen to someone being assertive.
"I'm allergic to pity," was Junho's answer.
"I don't pity you."
"Right," Junho sneered. He tried to shrug off Nichkhun's hand, but Nichkhun tightened his grip and forced Junho to face him.
"I don't," Nichkhun insisted, because Junho needed to know that there was no point in comparing the two of them. "You keep looking at the wrong things about me. I'm completely useless at singing and the only reason my dancing doesn't suck is because Jay helps me on the side. My Korean is awful and the only thing people notice about me is my smile. And whether Wooyoung's just an ass or not, he was right: I'm not your competitor. I can't even show up on the same stage as you. So don't think I'm in any position to look down on you because if there's anyone here who needs all the help he can get, it's me."
Nichkhun didn't set any expectations about how Junho would react. At the very least he was hoping for some form of acceptance, or if he'd said the wrong things maybe even rude dismissal. Bitter triumph mixed with a belittling gaze wasn't one he foresaw. "Did you just hear yourself? Are you still so stupidly, so immaturely idealistic that you think talent will determine success? When it's easier to teach someone like you to sing and dance than to make an ugly musician handsome?"
"But you're-"
"Don't bother saying it. Who cares if I can sing and dance or if I'm handsome? I'm no one. I'm worse. People look at me and they see Rain. They watch me dance and they think I'm not as good as Rain. You know this. So just leave me alone." Junho walked away once more, and he almost made it to the door before Nichkhun found the words he wanted to say.
"Then give me a chance to get to know Junho. No dancing, no singing. Let's just... talk about things and stop being trainees for one night."
And when Junho stopped with one foot out the door, Nichkhun knew for once he said the right thing.
~*~
It should have been awkward, but it wasn't.
They should have had conversation, but throughout dinner they were silent.
It should have been enlightening. It was.
They had meat and sausages and congee and Nichkhun mostly just watched Junho eat. Every once in a while Junho would look back with a silent frown and an appraising glint in his eyes, and Nichkhun would offer a smile and focus on his own meal. But whenever Junho looked away again Nichkhun would watch once more and marvel at how Junho exuded self-control during mealtime. Maintaining posture after an exhausting day, never once wincing when the hot congee touched the split on his lip, letting Nichkhun know through sheer body language that he didn't care if Nichkhun was staring... it was surreal.
Nichkhun learned a lot from those few minutes of non-conversation. About the Korean version of omerta. About never letting one's guard down. About always being wary of people watching. About never thinking that you were alone.
Mostly, he learned about things that Taec took for granted and never thought to teach Jay and Nichkhun. He realized why Jay had such a hard time being accepted as Korean even though his blood was purely theirs. Why Nichkhun would always be seen as a foreigner - a novelty - no matter how hard he tried to blend in. The barrier lay beyond looks and language, beyond family trees and purity of intent. Despite the popular media's attempts at ushering in the wave of individuality, Korea was still a culture rooted in collectivism.
But here Junho was, here all the trainees were, caught in the center where two incompatible tenets of belief clashed. Here they were, raised by society to observe rules and etiquette and unwritten codices of proper behavior, but they were pursuing an industry wherein one's individual ability to shine determined his success. There was a very fine road to follow, but one toe out of line could ruin everything someone had been building after years of hard work. The pressure, the dissonance, the insanity of it all... it helped Nichkhun understand.
It helped him understand Chansung's berserker attitude and the overwhelming remorse that came after. It helped him understand Jinwoon's urgency in getting Nichkhun out of there. It helped him understand why everyone was reluctant to reach out and be friends, and why even until now Nichkhun only had Taec and Jay to rely on.
He understood why Coach Dongwook was so exasperated with him but still made sure that Nichkhun wasn't too crushed to continue singing, why he always gave Nichkhun a sliver of hope to hold him afloat. And now that he thought about it, he also understood why Wooyoung did what he did and what he hoped to achieve from it.
He understood why Junho was reluctant in offering to teach him: if Nichkhun succeeded, Junho would be hit by the bitterness of all the other failed trainees for giving the foreigner what he needed to succeed; but if Nichkhun failed, Junho's efforts would be seen as sabotage and he'd be marked as a black sheep of the people for mistreating a guest. There was only one way for Junho to win the situation in which he'd trapped himself, and that was to succeed alongside Nichkhun, to be right there so they could pull each other upwards. It was a long shot, a million-to-one chance. But Junho was getting desperate and he was hedging his bets.
Wooyoung was right: Junho didn't see Nichkhun as competition. Junho chose Nichkhun as a potential teammate because he knew deeply that talent wasn't everything and charisma influenced more than it should. Nichkhun was the embodiment of Junho's frustrations: someone who always got noticed even if he wasn't any good. And instead of resisting, Junho decided to partner with him so he could be noticed as well. He had decided to teach Nichkhun how to sing so that if his bets paid off, they would do so spectacularly.
And in the meantime, Junho would have the perfect opportunity to learn from Nichkhun the one thing the lack of which always kept him from being noticed: charisma. It wasn't something Nichkhun could teach. But he would be glad to let Junho learn.
"I ate well," he heard Junho say.
Nichkhun pulled himself out of contemplation just in time to gesture to Junho to put his wallet away. "I'm the hyung," Nichkhun reminded him. "This means I get to pay right?"
"Just because you're older doesn't mean you're automatically my hyung," Junho answered.
The words were sharp but Nichkhun considered it a triumph that Junho's tone was softer. Patient. Educational. It wasn't friendly yet, but at least it hinted that friendliness was a possibility. "Let me pay, still. In return for our first two lessons."
Junho ignored him and started counting out bills.
"Please?" Nichkhun added with a pout and blasting Junho with the full effects of his doe eyes. He might as well learn from experience.
Junho looked electrified. It took him a minute to regain his composure and to pocket his wallet with slightly trembling hands. "Just this once."
Nichkhun grinned at him and called for the waitress.
He couldn't help it if he was smiling a little too brightly when he returned to the dorm. He couldn't fault Jay and Taec for reaching the obvious conclusion, but he didn't offer any explanations.
[- part 2 -]