"Fine but you have to shut up. And maybe clean some. I can't stand this mess in here." How were there so many chip bags around? What was he doing in here? It was like a rat. Just living, eating, leaving stuff everywhere in a mess. He huffed in annoyance and tried to block out Yujin, arranging the beat he had on his USB and changing it around in the ways he wanted.
It had to be something good to dance to. And now he had his own work - not stolen, not plagiarised, not bought from a better writer.
He played the beat aloud and leaned back in his chair, smiling up at Yujin. Ha. He did it.
"That's gonna be a really nice project to hand in for your evaluation in junior high. You'd get a C, if the teacher likes you," Yujin said in a very encouraging and, therefore, obviously fake voice. He had spent the time on his phone, that he had illegally smuggled in, blatantly not cleaning anything up, ever. He was determined to make more of a mess as soon as he could.
But for now he moved, leaned over JB and graciously saved his current work as 'mediocre draft'. Then he took over, creating an arrangement of his own quickly. He let it play and looked over to catch JB's eyes. "Here, I made you an A-student. Do you want to pay me to tutor you?"
"I just wish you'd stay out of my personal space. I would pay you for that but there's cheaper ways to get rid of a pest like you." JB huffed as he reached out to turn the music off and yeah, he was annoyed because it did sound better and he fucking hated it. Not that he'd give that away. "I wouldn't give it an A, personally. It's too -- rough. What do you call it? Indie?"
He huffed out a laugh and shook his head, gently shoving Yujin away from the computer. Damn, he was a solid. Like fucking brick. "Very uninspiring. Now, if you're done ruining my music, kindly get lost."
"I'm leaving, doll-face." Wait. He had meant to say that as an insult, but now it almost came out like a very, very weird endearment. Yujin frowned and tried to move past it, finally straightening up and shaking his head. "If you want to write music people care about, you gotta have a soul. So try and win that back from your company, huh? Or you'll keep producing the same crap as everyone else."
He doubted he could get through to him, but hey. He had tried. "Real music is about what you feel. Not what they tell you to do."
"Real music is music. Don't be elitist. The songs I sing, I care about them. Otherwise, I wouldn't sing them." Not always true, sometimes Cheon made him do stuff he hated but he always found a way to love it. His father had told him that if this was his passion, he had to embrace all of it and he had. Even some awful, stolen songs he didn't really want.
"Go on, tell me, what's real music to you? You clearly hate my stuff so what's better?" What was the superior music?
"Something from the heart. Something you gotta get out because you'll explode otherwise. Raw feeling, true emotion. Having that one thing you care about so much you have to sing about it." Taking on the challenge, Yujin moved over to get the second chair. He spun it around and sat down right by JB, getting his headphones.
He put them on JB and then turned on the music. He had a mix on, so he wasn't even sure where in the playlist he was. Some original stuff, some old school rock, some other, newer stuff. "Listen to that. Really listen."
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It had to be something good to dance to. And now he had his own work - not stolen, not plagiarised, not bought from a better writer.
He played the beat aloud and leaned back in his chair, smiling up at Yujin. Ha. He did it.
no subject
But for now he moved, leaned over JB and graciously saved his current work as 'mediocre draft'. Then he took over, creating an arrangement of his own quickly. He let it play and looked over to catch JB's eyes. "Here, I made you an A-student. Do you want to pay me to tutor you?"
no subject
He huffed out a laugh and shook his head, gently shoving Yujin away from the computer. Damn, he was a solid. Like fucking brick. "Very uninspiring. Now, if you're done ruining my music, kindly get lost."
no subject
He doubted he could get through to him, but hey. He had tried. "Real music is about what you feel. Not what they tell you to do."
no subject
"Go on, tell me, what's real music to you? You clearly hate my stuff so what's better?" What was the superior music?
no subject
He put them on JB and then turned on the music. He had a mix on, so he wasn't even sure where in the playlist he was. Some original stuff, some old school rock, some other, newer stuff. "Listen to that. Really listen."