Chapter 2

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"So, you're telling me.. You work at a market, you lost your car, and your crib?" Zico asked as he drove Hyoseob home.
"And my dog," Hyoseob added.
"And your dog- Wait, you love that dog, how could y-"
"My apartment doesn't allow pets."
Zico lifted a brow as he prepared more questions in his mind. He let them sit in silence for a few seconds then started up again at the stoplight.
"Crush-"
"Don't call me that, please."
"Fine, Shin-"
"No."
Zico rolled his eyes, "Hyoseob. Why do you work.. At a market? Shouldn't you be in a studio?"
Hyoseob's eyes wandered around the car.
"The market is a parttime job," he lied.
"You're still doing music then, right? Still getting income?" The light turned green and he continued driving.
"Uh. Yeah, sure. I'm getting an income.. F-from music, of course," Which was a half lie. As long as he did still have music on the market, he was getting income, but the tracks were aging so he didn't get much.
Zico smiled to himself, hearing his friend say he was still producing and getting a stable income, he didn't have to worry.
"Speaking of music," Zico looked at him from the corner of his eye as he drove, "Did you get my text?"
"Yeah-" Hyoseob answered quickly, but took a few seconds to seal his statement up with another lie, "...But I was on break when I saw it, and I didn't pay my phone bill yet, so my phone was already off by the time I checked it."
His phone didn't cut off until 12am, but Zico didn't know that. So he bought it. He expected to be informed on Hyoseob's uncoming work after that, but the car just remained quiet. When he caught on, he asked again, "So? Cr- Hyoseob? Working on something? Anything? You've been on hiatus or break.. Whatever you call it, for a while now."
"Uh," the other stared out the window, wondering if he should lie again or just come out with the truth. By the time he came to a conclusion in his mind, Zico had parked in some big ass driveway. The building they were parked by, definitely wasn't Hyoseob's apartment building. He looked at Zico, eyebrows arched in confusion.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"My place," he turned off the car and got out. Hyoseob followed him out and stopped him after closing his door,
"Why?"
Zico sighed and stopped to look at Hyoseob, "Do you really wanna go home?"
Hyoseob didn't answer, he looked down because he knew damn well he wouldn't say yes. His apartment wasn't that bad, but he sometimes needed a better sight to look at.
"Exactly," said Zico and he led his friend into his house. It was a pretty big, typical house. Had a pool with LED lights in it, a patio, a balcony, a basketball court, it was wide, and had two floors with a spiral staircase.
When Zico let Hyoseob in, he was honestly shocked. It was so nice. He remembered when he lived like this, which wasn't long ago, but it felt like it had been years. Zico watched him as he went around the living room, looking at everything he owned in awe, and touching things like he'd never seen them before. Like he'd never seen a porcelain vase in his entire life.
"You can go to the kitchen if you're hungry, it's in the next room, there's-"
Before he could even finish what he was saying, Hyoseob damn near bum rushed past Zico to the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows and looked back at Hyoseob, now rummaging through his fridge.
"Are you starving or something?" Zico joined him in the kitchen.
Hyoseob turned around with a little of everything in his arms; juice, a bag of grapes, and a bunch of microwavable foods like hot pockets and stuff. Nothing special, not to Zico at least. Anyways, Hyoseob shook his head, "No, but do you have snacks?"
"...." He pointed to the the cupboards above the sink. Hyoseob proceeded to put the stuff from the fridge on the counter and raid the cupboards for chips, candy, fruit snacks, cakes, etc. Zico watched him, a bit surprised. He was used to Hyoseob eating a lot, but he usually didn't eat so much because he was hungry. Now, he gave off a different vibe, a hungry vibe. He shook his head and sat on a stool, quietly letting his friend stuff his microwave with frozen foods and his mouth with junk. When Hyoseob settled down, he let his food cook and opened the bag of grapes and juice, sitting across from Zico.
"So," Zico started as Hyoseob shoved a handful of grapes in his mouth, "Music, writing, composing, let's talk about that now?"
"Oh," Hyoseob swallowed and decided to give Zico a blunt answer for once, "I'm not doing music anymore."

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