Chapter Text
By the fifth time Chris flips between his open song file and YouTube, he resigns to the fact that he should take a break. He’s getting nothing done. He runs his hands over his face, groaning into his palms loud enough to startle someone if he wasn’t alone in this apartment.
Reclining back into his chair, Chris squints his eyes as he looks over the dozens of tracks he’s piled into this song in hopes he’ll see something that he’d previously missed. He needs a solid hook, a spark — something special that’ll make this song different. Something that’ll make it...not this.
It’s just that this song kind of sucks. It sounds great by K-Pop standards - big, loud, a wall of sound. Very bombastic. Very K-Pop. And he knows the higher-ups will be happy with what he’s got, but it just. Sucks.
He’s really tired of feeling like he’s forgotten how to make music. His eyes glaze over before hovering over a folder on the corner of his second monitor. Indigo Kid, it reads, filled with countless half-written songs that he’ll likely never release. Looking at it makes him feel uneasy. Maybe he’ll open one of those files tomorrow.
It’s been like this a lot lately. It’s fine. He just hopes he’ll be able to pull something together, make some magic from these bare bones, because deep down, he knows he’s still got it. And if not, he’ll just package this half-baked song up, send it off to the company, and repeat the cycle until something yanks him out of this creative slump. It’s fine.
There’s nothing playing in the headphones covering his ears, so he hears the sudden knock at his front door. He slides his headphones around his neck, shuffling out of his studio and over to the front door.
“I’ve texted you like 20 times,” is the first thing out of Changbin’s mouth. He slides past Chris, plopping onto the couch with an ungraceful leg dangling over the arm. “How long has it been since you’ve seen grass?”
“Too long,” Chris says, closing the door. “What’s up?”
“Just making sure you weren’t dead,” Changbin says, sinking into the cushions and fully making himself at home. “I’m also dragging you out of this apartment. There’s a new bar not far from here where you can play video games while you eat and drink, and as my best friend, you’re legally obligated to come with me.”
“Right now?”
“Yep.”
“I really need to get some more work done tonight, Bin,” Chris says, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “This company wants something from me by Friday and I don’t have anything good to show them.”
Changbin sits up straighter, raising an eyebrow. “And will staring at a computer screen for 15 hours straight suddenly inspire you to make this generation’s Bohemian Rhapsody?”
“Well, obviously not, but—”
“Chris, I love you, but I can’t think of the last time you told me you were proud of something you made,” Changbin says. Tough love. “Forcing yourself to work when you’re burnt out like this is only going to burn you out more. Please come play video games with me.”
Burnt out. That’s one way to put it.
Chris sighs, peeling his headphones from around his neck. “Fine. Give me, like, five minutes to finish up what I was doing and put on real human clothes.”
“How long have you been wearing that specific shirt?”
“Uh.” Chris flushes, then quickly amends, “Okay, make it 15 minutes. I should shower.”
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Out of everything Chris expected from visiting a video game bar, ‘Finally Understanding Why People Write Songs About Love at First Sight’ wasn’t very high up on the list.
It’s 10 pm on a Tuesday, so it wasn’t hard to find a spot among the dozens of couches lining the walls of Battle & Brew. The hostess leaves them with not only food and drink menus, but a list of countless video games they could play on the huge flat screen TV in front of them. Changbin flips through the endless list of games, mumbling about how cool this place is, and Chris is inclined to agree. It’s been too long since Chris had let himself not think about work.
It’s when their server comes by to take their drinks orders that Chris feels his foundation shift a little. A shaggy head of blonde hair, a smile so bright they could power the entire restaurant with it. A voice so rich and deep that Chris would pay money to hear it on one of his tracks, and freckles that make-up artists would die trying to recreate.
Oh, he thinks. So this is why love songs are so cheesy.
“My name’s Felix,” he introduces, bright and cheery like he hadn’t been on his feet for likely hours. “I’ll be taking care of you guys tonight. What can I get you started with?”
The shitty beer Chris orders is much needed, given the way his palms get sweaty every time Felix looks in his direction. And each time after that, he only fumbled over his words more. Changbin comes to his rescue halfway through ordering, poking a finger at the games menu and telling Felix which game Chris had picked out for them.
“I love that game,” Felix says, excited. “Have you played the new DLC for it yet?”
Changbin laughs and points his thumb at Chris. “This guy is the one to ask. He picked it because I’m terrible at video games.” He gives Chris a subtle look that said, Sorry bro. I tried.
Chris clears his throat, smiling as a way to mimic human interaction. “I’ve loved what I’ve played so far. Have you finished it?”
“I literally stayed up all night to play it all the way through,” Felix admits, bouncing on his heels. It’s like he hasn’t been able to talk to anyone about it yet. Somewhere in the distance, someone calls for Felix’s help. He looks back and shoots a thumbs up, then turns back to Chris. “I’m gonna go put your food in and grab your game, and then I’ll be back to finish this conversation. I need to scream about it with someone.”
“Scream all you want,” Chris giggles. He feels his face going red. He can’t tear his eyes away from Felix as he runs off, and when he eventually turns back to Changbin, he’s giving him another look — you lovestruck bastard.
“Shut up,” Chris mumbles under his breath. “Just— shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Changbin says, lifting his hands defensively. “I’ve just never seen literal cartoon heart eyes on anyone before.”
Chris scoffs, picks up his beer, and downs half of it in one swig.
When Felix returns a few minutes later, he dives back into talking about the game with Chris. He must not be too busy, because he settles himself with his butt on the back of the couch and chats with them while they play (or in Changbin’s case, attempts to play) their game. Changbin checked out of their conversation pretty early on, because to him they were basically speaking a foreign language, but the conversation flowed naturally into every day, friendly chat that everyone could participate in.
It’s more than welcomed. Felix is easy to talk to, Chris thinks, and considering Changbin is the only person he’s hung out with in months, it’s nice to click with someone this quickly. Chris isn’t sweating every time Felix looks him in the eye anymore, so that’s a plus. Felix gets up every few minutes, making his rounds around his section, but he always circles back to Chris and Changbin’s couch.
They’ve eaten, they’re happy, and Chris is contently tipsy from his shitty beer. When it takes Felix ten minutes longer than usual to come see them, Chris peels his gaze away from the TV, elbowing Felix’s knee playfully when he perches on the back of the couch again. “Forget about us?”
“A kid got barbecue sauce inside of a PS5 controller,” Felix says, defeated.
“How does that even happen?”
“No idea. I guess he spilled it and let it just...seep inside.”
Chris scrunches up his nose. “Gross.”
“Another day in the life,” Felix sighs. “Hey, by the way, I’ve been cut so my shift is almost over. Do you want to cash out with me or do you want me to pass you over to another server?”
Chris shakes his head, urging Felix to cash them out. They can always re-open with a different server if they want to drink more, Felix tells him. When Felix slides them the bill, Chris pays as a thank-you for Changbin getting him out of the house. He tries to hide the extra $20 bill he slips into the checkbook.
Felix sees it immediately, though. He opens the checkbook to grab his pen, and widens his eyes. “You don’t have to do that,” he says softly, just to Chris.
Chris smiles. “Well, we had exceptional service tonight.”
Felix’s cheeks color under his freckles, whispering a small thank you. “It was great meeting you guys tonight.”
“I, uh — do you want to join us?” Chris asks. “Like, when you’re done with...cleaning up and doing whatever you have to do. You can come and keep hanging out, if you’re not too tired.”
“Really?” Felix’s face brightens. He turns to Changbin for confirmation, and after being met with a smile and a nod, he says, “Okay. I’ll — I’ll hurry. Don’t go anywhere!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Chris says as Felix sprints off.
Changbin gives him another look. Chris just shrugs and finishes off the rest of Changbin’s beer.
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[New Group Chat]
Tues, Aug 17, 11:52 PM
Unknown Number
hiiii it’s felix lee :)
Wed, Aug 18, 2:24 PM
Felix Lee
hi guys!!
just wanted to say last night was super fun and i’m excited i met y’all!! :)
Binnie Binnie Changbinnie
hi felix!
same, it was really cool hanging with u.
Felix Lee
we should do it again sometime!! :D
like outside of battle and brew
Binnie Binnie Changbinnie
for sure
i’ll let you know next time we’re doing something
Me
Hey Felix!
Sorry I was working hahaha
We’ll definitely hit you up to hang!!!
Felix Lee
hey chris!!
sounds great ♡
maybe this time you’ll beat me at mario kart lol
Me
ㅠㅠ
I’ll get my revenge
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Mon, Sept 13, 3:54 PM
Felix (≡^∇^≡)
i know it’s a monday but is anyone free today?
i’m baking cookies and i’m ronery
Binnie Binnie Changbinnie
sorry bud, working all day today
Felix (≡^∇^≡)
:(
boooooooo
wbu chris?
Chris presses the spacebar on his keyboard, pausing the song he’s working on, and picks his phone up off his desk. He backreads what he missed and feels a lump lodge itself in his throat.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with Felix. They’d been hanging out a lot — more than he’d expected when they initially exchanged numbers. He tags along with Changbin and Chris more often than not when he’s off work, grabbing a drink with them or going over to Changbin’s for a movie night or two. And they’ll visit Felix at work, too, requesting his section and giving him a respite from the other awful customers he's tending to.
(Notably, though, it was during one of these visits that Chris confirmed that Felix wasn’t straight. Changbin had gone to the bar, not wanting to burden Felix with another drink order to run, so it was a rare moment where it was just Chris and Felix. A couple tables down from them, Chris could hear the uncomfortable giggles of one of Felix’s coworkers. She looked annoyed, trapped talking to some shitty white guy who was likely coming onto her while she was on the clock. The skeevy look on his face made Chris’ skin crawl.
Felix noticed after a few minutes, sighed dramatically, and lifted a finger to say be right back. He sauntered over to his coworker, kissing her on the cheek and dropping his voice down even deeper than usual as he said, “Hey, babe, Charlie said he wanted to talk to you in the kitchen. Something about a ticket printing out wrong.” He turns to the guy, pressing his lips into a forced smile. “Mind if I steal Katie from you for a mo?”
The guy, visibly put off and annoyed, just nods and leans back in his chair. Katie lifts a hand to Felix’s cheek, says a quick, “Thanks, honey,” and uses the opportunity to dismiss herself to the kitchen. It makes Chris’ stomach churn as he watches. Maybe he misread Felix really hard.
But moments later, Felix was back, rolling his eyes and mumbling to the safety of their table, “No offense, but straight men are a disease.”
Chris squeaks a laugh, putting together that Felix was on emergency-fake-boyfriend duty. “Not straight, so no offense taken here,” he said, lifting his glass to take another swig of beer.
Felix cocked an eyebrow, lips tugging at the sides. “Good to know.”)
So it’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with Felix; he kind of wants to hang out with Felix every day of his life. It’s just. It’s just that they haven’t hung out alone, and Chris is a bumbling idiot without Changbin there to rescue him. He wants to. But he’s nervous.
Chris shakes himself out of it, though, sending off a quick, I’m down! Just send over your address. Of course he’s going to hang out with Felix. Cookies sound like a welcomed bonus.
Felix sends over his address immediately, and Chris doesn’t see the point in waiting to leave. He saves his song, locks up, and 20 minutes later he’s navigating his way through a winding flat complex and hoping to god he just knocked on the right door.
The thing about Felix is that he’s radiant. His smile spreads warmth through Chris’ chest. It’s healing, all-consuming, rejuvenating. And when Felix opens the door and Chris sees him — teeth bared, eyes crinkled, a smattering of flour stuck to his cheek — Chris wonders how he got so lucky to absorb that radiance.
“Hi!” Felix says, wiping his cheek with his forearm. “Perfect timing, I’m about to start another batch.”
“Another?” Chris laughs. The smell of cookies when he walks inside makes him feel strangely welcomed. There’s a K-Pop song playing at a low volume throughout the apartment, and Chris smiles, because of course Felix listens to K-Pop.
Felix sighs, closing the door and flipping the lock. “Okay, listen. Tomorrow is Overwatch-themed Trivia at work, and sometimes when we have themed nights, we have themed desserts too, right? Anyway, I think I accidentally signed myself up to bake and decorate, like, 200 Overwatch cookies. I think I just need moral support.”
Chris, having stepped into the kitchen, just smiles and pumps some soap into the palms of his hand. “Guess we’d better get to work, huh?”
✧
“So, I'm curious,” Felix says, pressing little cookie cutters into the flattened dough in front of him. “I don’t know what you do for a living. You must have pretty open availability if you’re free last minute on a Monday.”
Chris, busy with mixing another batch of dough, huffs a laugh. “I make music,” he says as vaguely as possible. His arm is starting to burn from the exertion. “So yeah, my schedule is whatever I make it with some loose deadlines thrown in there.”
Felix makes a little high pitched noise of interest. “Oh, so not just an I upload music to SoundCloud musician? Like you actually make songs for people?”
“I mean, maybe one day I’ll live out my dream as a SoundCloud rapper,” Chris says, no seriousness to his tone. “But for now, I’m contracted by a couple music companies.”
“What kind of music do you make?”
Chris cocks his head toward the bluetooth speaker in the kitchen, now blaring the newest Sunmi song. Felix has good taste. “K-Pop.”
“Oh shit,” Felix says, eyes wide. “For real?”
“For real.”
“Any songs that I’d know?”
Chris feels his ears going a little red, because yeah, there’s no doubt in his mind that Felix knows some of the songs he’s written. He clears his throat and starts listing bashfully, “Uh, Watcher by G-4RCE, Closed Doors by GoldTouch, Syrup by Cloverz — a lot of songs for Cloverz, actually.”
Felix stares at Chris as he speaks, jaw slack. He dusts his hands off on his pants, fishes his phone out of his pocket, and does some quick googling before narrowing his eyes in Chris’ direction. “What’s your producer name?”
Chris sighs. “CB97.”
Felix hums, because yeah, that’s the name listed as the producer for those songs. He rests his elbows on the kitchen counter, a cartoonish look of suspicion on his face. “I feel like you’re lying.”
Chris holds his dough-covered hands up. “My name is literally Chris Bang and I was born in 1997!”
“Remind me to check your ID when our hands are clean,” Felix says, picking up the cookie cutter again to not lose his momentum. “Because you can’t tell me that you wrote Syrup, the song of the Summer three years in a row in my heart, and expect me to believe you.”
“I’ll let you hear the demo,” Chris promises through a laugh. Felix might be the only friend he has who likes K-Pop and knows his work — well, his only friend in Australia.
“Do you sing on it?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know you could sing,” Felix says, almost dreamily. He takes the pan of perfectly-cut cookie shapes and slides it into the oven for its turn to bake. “Do you make your own music too?”
Chris sighs. He thinks back to that folder on his desktop, covered in metaphorical dust. He thinks of the dozens of songs he’s written that probably aren’t K-Pop worthy, songs he’s wondered if he was good enough for, if he could clean them up enough, if he sang better — maybe something is there. “I’ve dabbled,” he says simply.
“I’m sure you’re great,” Felix says, so certain with that crinkly-eyed grin.
Chris shrugs. “M’not really doing anything with it nowadays, but. I dunno, I’ve thought about it.”
“Is that what you wanna do? Like, focus on your own stuff?”
“I mean,” Chris starts, busying his hands by forming his cookie dough into a big ball. Of course he wants to. He doesn’t always want to be a machine pumping out songs for other people, no matter how cool it is to see his creations polished and performed.
Sometimes, if Chris thinks about it for too long, he feels like he really screwed himself over by pigeonholing himself into this style of music, but then, as quick as that thought came, he takes it back and thanks his lucky stars (and Hyunjin for being his industry connection, for that matter) that he has a career doing music.
He never intended to produce for K-Pop groups, is the thing. He just got lucky. He knew someone who knew someone, and one hit single later, his name was a regular in the industry’s producing circles. More of this, he was told by the higher-ups who sign his checks. Write me another song like this.
So he did. And it’s fine, really, but now that he’s a couple years into this, he feels like he’s making the same song a million times over. It’s not that the companies aren’t happy — they are, extremely so — but he wants to be proud of his work again. He thinks of the plaques hung on his wall, gold and silver records symbolizing CB97’s successes, and hopes he can get that spark back.
But for all intents and purposes, his career is going well. It would be ridiculous to derail this momentum when he’s just simply going through a little rough patch.
“I’m just too busy to work on anything personal right now,” Chris settles on saying, rolling Felix the ball of dough across the counter, “y’know? Maybe when I slow down, but I’ll cross that bridge eventually.”
Felix grabs his rolling pin, keeping eye contact with Chris as he starts to flatten the dough. “That’s not what I asked,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Do you want to pursue it?”
Chris resigns. “Yeah. I do.”
Felix pinches at the flour, flicking it in Chris’ direction. “Then pursue it, silly. I’m sure you’re making enough from your Syrup royalties to sustain you while you try it out, and you can still produce for them at the same time.”
Reaching for the bag of sugar, Chris scoops out another couple of cups to start on a new batch of dough. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
Felix gives him a pointed look, something that looks a lot like, just do it, dumbass. Chris chooses to ignore it, instead opting to chuck a heart-shaped cookie cutter at Felix’s chest.
✧
“I just realized I’ve never asked,” Chris says around a mouthful of cookie, eyes fixated on the television in front of him. They’re not paying attention at all. “Are you from Brisbane?”
Felix, fully sprawling out on the couch with one leg hooked over the back of the couch, reaches forward and grabs another cookie for himself. They’d worked for hours and they deserve to sample the goods. “Nuh uh,” Felix mumbles. He chews a bit, then holds a hand over his mouth as he continues, “Moved here for school a few years back. Just kinda stayed.”
Chris cocks his head curiously. “Oh? What did you study?”
“I was studying dance, but I dropped out a year in.” Felix shrugs. “Whatever.”
“Don’t like dancing anymore?”
“No, I still love it.” Felix brings his leg down, making himself smaller on the couch and pulling his knees to his chest. He shrugs weakly. “But things happen. I wasn’t in a good place — mentally, you know? I’m doing mostly better now, but I don’t feel the need to pay that much to learn something I can teach myself. I still dance, just...privately.”
It’s weird to imagine Felix not being the bubbly, radiant person he is now. He knows that it doesn't matter, that the fronts people put on don’t always match what they’re dealing with inside, but — but Felix constantly reminds Chris of the good in the world. It stings a little that the world might not have been good to Felix back.
Chris reaches out to gently jostle Felix’s arm, smiling softly. “You can’t tell me to chase my goals if you’re not chasing your own.”
Felix’s demeanor stays melancholic, eyes glazed over and looking in the vague direction of the television. He shrugs again loosely and says, “I don’t really have a goal.” He leans over to grab another cookie, but hands it to Chris instead. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. I’m not in the position to chase any big career goals.”
“Why not?” Chris asks.
“The difference between us is that I work at a restaurant, and you sound like you’re in a great spot with your K-Pop money,” Felix says bluntly. “Which is awesome. You’re in the position to step back and work on your own stuff. It’s just a little harder to go for your dreams when you’re broke and under-educated.”
Chris tightens his lips, nods, because Felix isn’t wrong. It puts his privilege into perspective. He breaks off a piece of the cookie Felix handed him and pops it into his mouth. “Yeah,” he says dumbly.
“Well,” Felix sits up straighter, reaching for the remote on the coffee table, “you’ll just have to work on your music and I’ll live vicariously through you. I’ll be your personal cheerleader.”
Chris laughs, eyes back on the television as Felix flips through for something new to watch. “I’d love that.”
“I’m gonna be your biggest fan.” Felix clicks on a new movie — a documentary or something, it looks like.
“That’s such an honor. You have good taste in music.”
“I’ll make a Chris Bang stan account on Twitter.”
“Oh, please do.”
“I’ll send people death threats in your honor.”
“Okay, well, hold on—”
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Thur, Sept 30, 6:14 PM
Me
Yo
Busy tonight?
Felix (≡^∇^≡)
i have thursdays off baybeeeeee
what’s up
Me
Wanna hang out?
I can finally show you my place haha
Felix (≡^∇^≡)
yeah!!!
is bin going too?
Me
Nah it’ll just be us
If that’s okay?
I can invite him too if you want
Felix (≡^∇^≡)
more than okay :)
send me your address
For how frequently Chris has hung out with Felix over the past month and a half, he shouldn’t be this nervous for Felix to finally come over. They’ve hung out at Felix’s one-on-one, and yeah, they had a great time together, but this feels different. It’s his space.
Chris looks around his room and scrunches his nose. He hadn’t realized how messy he’d let his apartment get. He just forgets, especially when he’s cooped up alone and hyperfocused on trying to make something that vaguely sounds like good music. Aside from Changbin, he hasn’t had anyone over in lord knows how long, so he figures he should clean up a little.
And also, maybe Chris just — he just wants to impress Felix a little. He knows Felix wouldn’t mind a mess, he’s just happy to be invited over to a friend’s house, but Chris likes him enough to want to put his best foot forward. Felix is radiant, and Chris just likes him a stupid amount.
If Chris finally understood the general feeling of “love at first sight” when he met Felix at Battle & Brew, he fully understands why people wax poetic in love songs now. He’s never been a love song writer — it felt too cheesy, too cliche, too distant from his own experiences. But now, Felix smiles at him once, and Chris is ready to write an entire album in his image. The small batch of songs he’s written over the past month speak for themselves, and they’re goofy as hell.
Inspiration pops up in unexpected places, he supposes. Maybe being goofy over someone isn’t that bad, actually.
When there’s a knock at his door, Chris takes a deep breath to center himself. He opens the door to a grinning Felix, so sweet and bright and happy to be alive, and Chris can’t help but smile right back. Sometimes, Felix acts a little goofy around him too, and it’s nice.
They exchange the typical your place is nice pleasantries, which Chris appreciates, even though his apartment is sparsely decorated. He never spends time in his living room, even less time in his kitchen, and his space reflects that. He gets a beer out of the fridge for each of them, pops the caps with the bottle opener magnet on his fridge, and says, “Oh, did you wanna see my studio?”
Felix’s eyes light up. “Of course I do.”
Chris swings the door open to his studio, just a second bedroom that he converted, and it’s obvious where Chris did the majority of his decorating. Black soundproofing foam litters the walls, leaving room for the half dozen plaques he was gifted. There are instruments gathering dust in the corners — a keyboard, a guitar case with a few peeling stickers — and then there’s his computer set up, monitors and microphones and huge speakers galore.
Felix looks around, letting out a quiet whoa as he takes it all in. “Okay,” he says, pointing a finger in the general direction of the plaques. “Okay. I believe you’re CB97 now.”
“Did you really not believe me?” Chris laughs, plopping down in his desk chair and setting his beer down on the first coaster he sees. He motions for Felix to grab the extra stool he keeps near his desk, mainly for when he wants Changbin to lend a fresh set of ears to a song he’s working on.
“It’s not that I didn’t believe you,” Felix says faux-defensively. He pulls the stool next to Chris and takes a swig from his bottle. “I just...had a hard time believing you. I had a healthy amount of skepticism.”
“Uh huh,” Chris teases, clicking around to wake his computer up.
Felix leans forward, eyes fleeting around the room like he’s never seen technology before. “You gonna play me something?”
“Mhmm.” Chris clicks around, thinks for a second about what he wants to play, then remembers what he promised Felix before. He goes five folders deep before finally double clicking on a file, then slowly turns his speakers up as the song starts.
“Oh shit,” Felix laughs, all loud and high pitched, as the opening notes to Syrup start. The only people who have heard this demo are Chris, the company, and the members of Cloverz themselves, so it’s weirdly thrilling to see Felix bounce around excitedly to it, singing along to the lyrics in broken Korean. Felix is so cute.
Chris presses the spacebar when it ends, a proud smile on his face. “I told you I’d let you hear it.”
“Yeah, god, thank you,” Felix says, exhaling like he just came down from an adrenaline rush. “That was, like, the coolest thing ever. Was that you singing?”
“Ah, yeah.”
“Your voice is so good, Chris,” Felix says, and it’s hard not to believe him when he’s looking at Chris so earnestly.
Chris feels himself blush, mumbles a thank you, and starts closing all the folders he’d opened to keep his workspace tidy. Then, he feels a small hand land gently on his forearm, and he turns to see Felix’s bright eyes looking at him.
“Hey, will you play me one of your songs?”
“My songs? Like…”
“Like your solo stuff.”
Chris makes a wounded sound, a hand rubbing at his neck. “Ah, I don’t...it’s not great.”
Felix juts out his bottom lip cartoonishly. “Please?”
That pout is dangerous. Chris groans, leans back in his chair, and resigns to the fact that he’ll never be able to say no to Felix. “Fine. Just one, okay?”
Victorious, Felix grins. “Just one. Promise.”
Chris clicks on the folder in the corner of his screen. There’s more than a few song files in here, half forgotten and staring back at him, and Chris feels a weird pull of guilt every time he’s faced with them. He skims over the thumbnails quickly, eventually double clicking on the most fully finished songs of the bunch.
From the start, Chris feels like sinking into the floor and covers his face with his hands. He can tell that his ears are bright red, and it feels like he’s baring his soul for the world to criticize. Which is silly, it’s just Felix, but not even Changbin has heard these songs before. They’re so different from what he usually makes; they’re more stripped back, with rawer vocals and acoustic instruments played to the best of his limited abilities. He’s added some production flair to this one, soft synths that compliment the acoustics and some ambient sounds that hum in the background, but. It’s different.
Lyrically, he likes this better than his usual stuff. It’s easier to write lyrics in English, and although his Korean is good enough to negotiate business decisions, he feels like he can say so much more in his mother tongue. He can reach farther into himself and portray what he’s feeling more poetically. He’s harsh on himself, but he’ll give himself that credit.
Playing this song for Felix is Chris showing him what he wants his future to look like. He’ll produce whatever genre is asked of him, and he’ll do it well enough, but this is Chris. This isn’t a chart-topping K-Pop song. Letting someone listen to this makes it feel real, and that’s kind of terrifying.
Chris peeks through his fingers, and Felix, god, he’s watching the song file scroll by with the widest eyes, shining like they’re welling up with tears. He probably didn’t expect this from Chris, not after knowing the songs he typically produces. Something stirs in Chris watching Felix react so strongly to something he created so secretly. For a fleeting moment, Chris starts to believe that there might be something there worth putting out into the world.
When the song ends, Felix turns to face Chris with the same wide eyes he was watching the screen with. “Chris,” he says softly.
Chris clears his throat, busying himself by closing out of the program. “Thanks, uh. Thanks for listening to it,” he says awkwardly. He doesn’t know what else he could say.
Felix scoots his stool closer, then leans his head against Chris’ arm so, so gently. “You need to be doing this,” he says. Chris makes a small, noncommittal sound, but Felix points toward the folder on the screen and continues, “This. Indigo Kid. You deserve to let yourself do this.”
Chris feels like his arm is burning where Felix lies against it. He reaches his other arm around, gently runs his fingers through his hair in a late response to the touch. “We’ll see,” he says again, because it’s easier than saying, I'm worried you’re the only one who wants to hear this. Because it’s easier than having to ever say no to Felix.
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The thing about Felix is that he’s radiant.
Chris has tried so hard to come up with a better word than that, but nothing else comes to mind. Felix flits around beaming sunlight into the lives of everyone he meets, warming them up from the inside out, and Chris sees his natural charm at work every time he visits him at Battle & Brew.
Do you know? he thinks to himself every time a customer interacts with Felix. Do you know how lucky you are to have met this boy? Because I only met him two months ago and I feel like a new person around him.
Changbin never lets Chris off the hook when he catches him looking at Felix. There’s always this smug look on his face, like he knows more than Felix does about how crazy Chris is for him.
“It’s so gross,” Changbin said once, but the coy smile on his face makes it hard for Chris to believe that Changbin is even a little bit grossed out. “I’ve just never seen you like this. I don’t know who you are anymore, Mr. I-Don’t-Like-Love-Songs.”
Felix just seems to care so deeply about Chris. Changbin is an equal part of their friendship trio, and Felix is just as touchy with him as he is with everyone he’s friends with, but something feels different when it’s just Chris and Felix. Touches linger a little longer, they both blush a little harder, their talks run a little deeper.
On a particularly hard day, Felix could somehow sense that Chris wasn’t feeling the best. He’d sold another song, which was nice, except for the fact that it was one of the older songs that felt half-baked and uninspired. The execs liked it enough to want it as a title track for a smaller group on the label, but Chris knew he could do better than that. He has done better than that. It left him feeling empty and weird, like he was having to face the fact that maybe he’d already peaked.
Felix came by his apartment unannounced that afternoon, pizza boxes in his arms and a congratulations balloon tied around his wrist. Because if Chris wasn’t going to be proud of himself, he said, Felix was going to be proud for the both of them.
Chris doesn’t want to look too far into it; the more he feels, the harder his heart will shatter if Felix ever breaks it. He’s just enjoying what they’ve got right now. It’s nice.
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Tues, Oct 19, 3:25 PM
Felix (≡^∇^≡)
busy?
Me
Nope
Sup
[Incoming Call: Felix (≡^∇^≡)]
Chris feels his phone vibrate before he has the chance to even set his phone back down on his desk. He looks at the screen confused, because he can’t recall Felix ever having called him before. He only lets it ring for a moment, though, and answers with a disoriented, “H’llo?”
“Hi,” Felix says in his little gremlin voice, which would be annoying from anyone other than Felix. Then, in his normal voice, “Can you talk?”
“Yeeeah,” Chris answers slowly. “Everything good?”
“What? Yeah! This is just easier asked over the phone. All good.”
Chris lets out a relieved breath. “Okay, good. What’s up?”
“Okay,” Felix starts, “this is going to sound weird and cryptic, but just bear with me.”
“That doesn’t sound all good to me,” Chris laughs, “but sure.”
“You said you don’t have a set schedule, right?”
“Right.”
“So if you needed to take a long weekend, you could, right?”
Chris pauses, unsure of where Felix could be possibly going with this. “Right…”
Felix snickers into the phone. “So, hypothetically, if a friend that you’ve only known for, like, two months asked you to pack a bag and go on a surprise trip with him this weekend, would you do it?”
“Felix,” Chris laughs, trying to ignore the way his neck is starting to sweat. “Where are you taking me?”
“I said it’s a surprise!” Felix squeaks into the phone. “And it’s a hypothetical!”
The way Chris’ stomach fills with nervous butterflies would be embarrassing if they didn’t make an appearance every time he was around Felix. He doesn’t want to think too far into this, just like he doesn’t want to think too far into anything Felix does for him, but it’s getting really hard not to. “Hypothetically,” he says, and god, he’s smiling so hard. “I would say that this is a slow week so this weekend would work great, actually.”
“Cool,” Felix says definitively. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday, around 11am. We’ll drive home on Sunday, so pack for however many days that is. Oh, and bring your guitar.”
“Why do I nee—”
“Don’t ask questions, Christopher.”
It’s crazy how much Chris trusts Felix so wholeheartedly. Felix sounds so excited and the excitement is contagious. He’s dying to know what Felix has got up his sleeve. “I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”
“See you!”
Chris stares at the blank screen of his phone after the call is disconnected, unsure of what the hell just happened. He spins around in his chair, looks at the ratty guitar case in the corner of the room, then pushes himself up to stand with a weak groan.
Might as well start packing.