✓Crotchet || MCND Castle J

Chapter 2 - Notepad Girl

Minji's POV

This is the class I hate the most—Composing. I don't even know if I'm blending appropriate beats nicely together or I just do whatever to get on with it. In this class, I'm the odd one out. I didn't mean I don't belong but we literally have an odd number of students and most activities are done in pairs. The instructor told me to find a pair who is willing to take me in but I didn't bother. Being the introverted person I am, that doesn't really do me anything good.

This day is the same as always. I'm alone at my desk, with the flatscreen computer staring at me while all of my classmates are planning the project that instructor Kim just assigned us. It will be different this time and we have a month to finish it. Instead of the usual 'mix this sound with that sound' activity, we will be composing a full song complete with lyrics as our end-of-term project. Students like me who are also in the lyrics writing class will be on advantage but this project works both ways. Our instructor, Ms. Park, also told us that this work will bear about forty percent of our term-end project in her class.

It was about an hour after the class started that someone opened the door and a student I don't recognize entered, greeting Mr. Kim in the process.

"Sorry I'm late, sir." He said. Late? Is he in this class? Because if he is, I've never seen him before.

"Ah, Seongjun-ah," our instructor said smiling as if being late for nearly an hour is a normal thing. "It's okay. It's a free period to plan on the end of term project."

"Already?" The guy asked. "There are still two whole months before the term ends."

Mr. Kim just waved him off and beamed. "I'm happy you could make it to class this time. Go sit with Ms. Jung over there and maybe she can be your partner for the project."

Of course.' I thought as I rolled my eyes to myself. He took the seat beside me and I didn't acknowledge him as I pretended to be busy with writing my lyrics. To my delight, he didn't say anything but he keeps on staring at me as if he is curious about something.

In response, I just stared back squinting my eyes a bit. But then he said "What?" And I raised my eyebrows.

"I'm sorry," He said. "You just seem familiar." I nodded and looked away.

He tried to keep his eyes on the homepage of the computer, pretending to scan the applications on the desktop, but he still keeps glancing as if he's hesitant to say something.

I sighed then grabbed the keyboard and open the notepad to type.

What?

He looked at the screen, then at me. Then at the keyboard. I think he's wondering whether he should type a reply or just talk. He looked around at our classmates, probably making sure if it is allowed to talk. It is.

When he saw others talking, he said. "Can you explain to me what we are supposed to do?"

Oh Right. I explained to him through the notepad the project, even the grading systems at both composing and lyrics writing classes.

After I finished typing, he said. "So let's split the task. I'll do the beat, you do the lyrics. Let's decide today on the genre we're working on. I already have a lot of drafts we could work on and I'm sure you already have lyric drafts too." He said nodding at the papers scattered in front of me.

Sure. I typed. But I only do pop. More on the melodic side, maybe?

"Can't you talk?" He said, a bit abruptly that my eyes widen at him. "I'm sorry. It's just that I think we can discuss this better if we're, you know, verbal?"

I hesitated for a moment. It's not that I can't talk, I'm just not comfortable with the Korean language, not to mention my pronunciation is funny. I lived overseas for almost all my life and I only know Korean because my parents talk in that language all the time but they only talk to me in English. My dad is Korean and my mom's Canadian. I moved back here by myself a few months ago because I wanted to study their music.

"Okay," I said, lowering my eyes and focusing on my papers. "Just don't laugh at my diction."

I heard him chuckle lightly and I immediately glared at him. He smiled, "So you can talk."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry," He said. "A lot of people are talking about the mute foreign girl."

I sighed, "Of course they'd call me mute. Nobody talks to me."

"Why not talk to people first?" He asked. "I'm sure a lot would love to hear stories about how it is like living overseas or something."

I avoided his eyes as if ashamed of the reason why I don't have any friends. "I don't talk much. I'm afraid to approach people."

"Why?" He asked. And before I could say something, he added, "Introvert?" I nodded. "Look, I don't know how it is like to be like that but you should try going out of your comfort zone. For all I know, you already made the step to study in a country with a language you are not comfortable with. You just have to keep that pace."

"Thanks." Is all I could say. "But, really, I'm fine."

"No you're not," He said as if he knows me more than I know myself. "You always eat alone, walk alone, and you do projects that are supposed to be done by pair alone."

"Do you stalk me?" I said jokingly. But he looked away from me as if recalling the words of what he just said. That became my cue to continue teasing him. "How'd you know I always eat and walk alone? That's not general knowledge to everybody, is it?"

"Let's just say you attract attention." He said looking proud at his retort.

I squinted my eyes. "What does that mean?"

"Well," He said, carefully choosing his words. "It means you're pretty enough for people to be interested in what you do."

"You think I'm pretty?" I blushed.

"People say that," he said.
 
"That you think I'm pretty?" I teased.

It was his turn to blush. "No, I mean—"

"So you don't think I'm pretty?" I faked a frown.

"That's not what I mean." He said at his defense and I just laughed in response to his confused expression. He chuckled too. "You know what, I'm sure if you just talk like this to other people you will gain friends in no time."

We talked about the kind of music we would want our song to be. He read all the lyrics that I've written and we listened to some of the beats he made that he saved on his phone. He mostly does rap beats but some could go perfectly with my style. He said he'll compose the full music and send it to me so I could edit the lyrics.

The bell rang and we started to fix our bags. He only took out his headphones and phone so he finished quicker.

Before he stood up, he said. "My friends actually dared me to record your voice but I wouldn't do that."

"There are people making dares involving me?" I laughed.

"Yes. I told you that you attract attention." He said. "You should stop being the notepad girl and actually talk to people to avoid things like this."

"I should stop being the notepad girl," I nodded, smiling.

He returned the smile and stood up. Just as when he was about to walk towards the door, he said "And yes, I think you're pretty."