Pop Star || Yoongi x Reader

32. You Both Record A Song

The sun shines a little brighter on you the next morning when you enter your workstation. This feeling of renewed enthusiasm, like you're bursting with ideas - you've missed it so much. It's like you're alive again. You gulp down some warm coffee and get to work. RM's idea of revisiting your early compositions has been on your mind and is what you execute first. You dig a hard drive out of a box neatly labeled "Archive 2011-13" - probably Lily's doing - and plug it into your Mac.

It surprises you how different you sounded back then. More strings, fewer synths, and vocal heavy tracks. Well-suited to someone who actually wanted to say something. That is where you feel you're at again. You snap open your phone and post a story of the archive box with the text "back to the beginning". Your fandom deserves to know.

To your delight, V has already emailed you the demo. For the next two weeks, you go back and forth with him and Suga over your respective verses. V suggests that since you're all in Seoul anyway - it would be fun to record together instead of sending over your parts and stitching them all alone. So, on one bright January day, you find yourself in the good old HYBE atrium ready to sing your heart out.

You check your phone as you get into the elevator.

There's one text from Suga.

You're late.

You type a reply and hit enter.

                                 You're annoying :)

While you weren't actually late when you left, the chilly weather along with your good mood made you crave coffee. Fifteen minutes delay for a mocha under the sun plus a slow drive in your Cayenne seemed like a perfectly reasonable bargain in your head. V was running late anyway.

Suga is already on the computer when you enter the recording room. Sitting hunched in a white oversized tee, beanie on his head and round glasses, he reminds you of a large house cat.

"This room smells like socks," you comment, dumping your purse and yourself on the sofa. You dig a tiny cylinder of pocket perfume from your purse and spray it in the air.

Suga makes a disapproving noise but doesn't say anything. There's already enough of you in his thoughts without his workspace smelling like you too. Instead, he turns around in his revolving chair and sitting-walks it to you, placing a giant pair of headphones around your ears.

The lack of space between you both doesn't faze you.

Music plays in your ears. You grin, feeling the rhythm.
"What do you think?" He asks.
"Could be a little quieter - at least the pre-chorus bit," you reply.
He nods. "Let's try that," he moves back onto his workstation without getting up.
You watch the back of his neck intently. His hair is cut in a neat line.

The freshly printed lyric sheet lying on the sofa catches your attention. It has V's intro and also, your verse. In between the two, there's a rap section in Hangul, heavily edited in blue pen. You recognize his writing from the note he'd sent you with the wine.

"You done with your part yet?" you ask.

"Hmm?" he takes off the headphones, "oh - kind of," he puts them back on. He was having trouble pinning his words down until a few days ago. You, on the other hand, were on a songwriting roll.

"Explain it to me then," you take the sheet and stand next to him. He looks up to you, scrunching his nose.

"I can't really explain it. Try Naver - or Google," he goes back to work, smiling.
"Google can't read your handwriting, Suga,"
"Yeah but you can - Hangul is easy, so type it, arasseo?"
You smack his shoulder with the sheet. "I'm not that jobless yet!"

He laughs. "If I could explain it, I wouldn't have to write it in a song."
"OI!"
How exasperating can he get?

"Ok, ok, sit, I'll try to explain," he gives in, once again sitting-rolling the chair towards the sofa. You sit down on the latter expectantly. He gives an embarrassed sort of laugh at your eagerness.

"You know how Taehyung talks about taking a leap of faith, blah blah in his verse -" he pauses as you giggle at his accented 'blah blah'.

"Sorry, blah blah, go on." He shakes his head and continues, "so I wanted to talk about how that's not easy - even when you know that's what you should do - you know?"

"I know - but how are you saying it - the words, tell me the words!"
He bites back a grin. "Use your translation app for that."
"Oh, god, Suga, I will kill you..."

He nods, "If you're taking it that personally," he licks his lips and leans towards you, "then at least stop calling me by my stage name."

You blink. Suddenly, there are a lot of butterflies in your stomach.

"Okay," you pause, "M-Min Yoongi," you pause because he goes "hmmm?" at your stutter. Then you just glare at him, "if you're done acting up, tell me your lyrics in English!"

He nods and backs away as though satisfied. "You'll find out once the song is officially out."

"Yah!" You yell. That whole name thing and the continuous teasing makes you blush against your wishes. But before you can complain more, his phone rings.

"It's V," he whispers while stopping your verbal onslaught with a humble palm.

There are only a few words that you can catch from their conversation.

"We have a problem," Suga says after ending the call. "The doctor has ordered Taehyung to stay home, though -"
"Wait. What doctor?"
"Ah. He injured his leg a few weeks ago. It's just taking time to heal."

"Then he should rest. It won't get better if he keeps running around," you say. The fact that V didn't tell you a thing despite being in touch recently hurts you a little.

"He really wanted to start the recording today..." Suga's voice trails away.

But then, people treat their own injuries differently, you muse, remembering your own aversion to hospitals and care. Maybe he just doesn't want to inconvenience anyone.

"What if," you say, "we reschedule the next session at his place? Whenever he's a bit better? Only if that makes it easier for him - or is it weird?" you finish uncertainly.

Suga laughs. "No, it's actually not a bad idea. Let's do our solos today. We can record the rest later." He's surprised at your thoughtfulness, though he doesn't show it. You're engrossed in the lyrics sheet now, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear,  while the rest of it is secured in a bun. You don't have a lot of make-up on, and you look fresh and cheerful. He starts to smile until he realises how stupid and awkward it would look if you were to catch him smiling at you. He turns back to the computer.