♡Stray Kids - oneshots

My Beautiful Song 1 (Changsung)

Another day at work. Well, part-time job. I still go to school, the last year of high school exactly. I don't hate it, I just don't like wasting my time. To me it's kinda boring and I go there just to meet my friends. I might have learnt there a few interesting things but it didn't help me to get better in the only thing I wanna do in my life. Music. Since I have been like twelve I became interested in it and now I am able to create it at work.

I put my things in my small studio, which may be smaller than the ones full-time workers have but it doesn't matter to me. This one is mine and I will never complain about it. I think I will cry if they ever tell me to move to another one. All my works I have done until this day were made here, between these four walls.

As a part-timer I started working in this company just a few days ago, maybe it's a week already. Until that day, I had been a person who was coming here and they had taught me how to do some things better but I can tell I had known a lot when I firstly came here.

And my parents? I have to say they excepted it. They didn't have any problem with this hobby of mine even though they had to help me financially at some points. When I was younger, they didn't always understand me and trust me, being misunderstood by my own family had been really hard for me. I didn't have anyone to talk to about my feelings, because at home they didn't understand and I didn't have friends I could tell everything. So one day I took a paper and I wrote it down. That was my very first lyrics. It helped me so I started doing it more often. And here I am now, making music as a part-time job.

I sit on the chair behind my desk, where I put my laptop and I find in my files the last music I have started working on.

I close my eyes and play the melody a few times to get really into it, to feel it, to make it touch my skin and occasionally to give me goosebumps. It may sound weird, but I can feel the emotions behind it. And I am sure no one else will ever be able to feel any of it. That fact makes me sad.

I do some work but then the ideas stop coming. Nothing. Just a blank space in my head. I need a break to rest and let's hope it'll help.

I stand up, take my keys and then I leave the studio, closing the door behind me. I just walk around the building without any final destination.

In the end, I find myself standing outside in front of it, inhaling the fresh air while looking at the sky that is getting darker every minute and a few planes are flying across. There are no clouds, the heaven is clear. A few people are here to smoke but I am standing far enough so I am lucky not to smell the smoke. The melody from my computer is in my head on repeat without me realizing it.

When my body shivers for the first time due to the cold wind, I tell myself that it's time to return back. So I go inside and take the stairs to get to the third floor, where my studio is. I don't really see a point in going by elevator.

,,Hi! Don't we know each other?" someone speaks to me when I am about to open the door of my workspace.

I turn to him seeing a familiar face. This guy was attending the same high school as me and he graduated last year. To be honest, I never liked him much. His name is Seo Changbin. Basically, I don't know him at all, I know his name, I know he is year older than me, and I know names of his two friends. Lee Minho, who graduated one year before him, and Hwang Hyunjin, who is my classmate and I don't really like him. Girls are around him every day and no, I am not jealous, I just know how he is. He is a school prince, most of the school loves him, including teachers. And then people like me are there, who hate him. He is fucking with everyone and I don't think he will ever be able to have a serious relationship.

,,I think so," I answer. Can he just leave me alone? I don't wanna talk to him. That trio of friends I mentioned? Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin? I don't like any of these three people. They all are like Hyunjin. That's how we, people, choose our friends. Birds of a feather flock together, right?