The Producer- an Enhypen fanfic

Chapter 1: Run-ins

Anxiety. I could feel it snake its way around my chest, crawling into my neck. I gulped, trying to push the feeling down. I fidgeted with the string of my sweatshirt with one hand, trying to hold back the gasps that threatened to leave my mouth.

This was not unusual, quite frankly, it has been a regular occurrence since I moved. I often found myself forcing out deep controlled sighs, in an effort to appear that much more put together. Yes, I too can breathe like a normal human, like you. I am definitely not panicking, this is just a regular Monday.

It has been really hard for me to adjust to Korea and its language. It has been about six months, and I still have not grown used to it. I consider myself lucky that my line of work allows me to stay at home, or seclude myself in a small recording studio- just me, my instruments, and my software. The one thing I was able to adjust to was the heavier Korean workload, which really wasn't much of a change for me, I spend hours working on tracks even without getting paid.

Speaking of offices, that's where I am. Somewhere inside this labyrinth of a building, where it looks vaguely like a prison, much less an entertainment company. For a multi-million dollar company, you'd think they'd get some interior designers in here or add some plants maybe. The gray walls feel like they are pressing in on me, hard concrete walls close off corridors and block out all-natural light.

My eyes were pulled away from my computer screen as I heard a buzz from my desk, and my phone screen lit up. The picture of my cat was obscured by a text from my dad.

'Hey Sweetie, I hope you have a good day at work!'

I grinned down at my phone, he somehow always knows when to text. Due to the time difference my dad sometimes stayed up late just to send me a good morning text, he knows I need it.

My fingers danced across my phone screen deftly, writing some semblance of a positive note, promising I'll have a good day and that I'll call him when he gets up. I sent the text and set my phone down. Back to focusing on my little song, in my little studio, in my little corner.

I am currently employed by a few companies in Korea, I somewhat bounce back and forth to whoever needs a producer. I spent my first few months working under JYPE, which I have to say has a much better building setup. There's actually color and life splashed onto every wall, much like the artists under the company. There was always laughter and song, unlike Hybe. Hybe's walls block all sounds, and many of the staff in the halls do not smile, but simply pass from meeting to meeting, as professional as ever. I wish I could be like that, but I crave a small wave or nod, even a slight smile.

I came to Hybe since they had a lot of new groups debuting and really needed more staff. I am currently working on projects for several groups, but have yet to truly work in the studio with any. I am fairly removed from the glitz and glamor of the industry, which I almost prefer. It is safer in these corners.

After a few more minutes of working, I felt my legs begin to tense and cramp. I had been sitting here since six am, and from a look at my phone, I can see it's been many hours since then, four to be specific. I lazily got up and stretched, raising my hands into the air and arched my back, feeling relieved at the deep stretch I felt through my body. I twisted from side to side, swinging my arms as I did so.

Taking a deep breath and gathering courage, I walked towards my door to make a coffee run, an attempt to push myself out of the comfort of my desk. I twisted the handle, revealing the utterly gray desolate hall. Just as quiet as my office, with the exception of a few pipes creating some white noise.

I began making my way through the various halls toward the staff room, scanning my badge at several security points. At one in particular my badge would not read, despite my efforts to show it from different angles.