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agustdef · 5 years

Text

Here & Now - Chapter 1

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 1,963

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn

Author’s Note: This is my first time posting fanfic so I hope it’s alright. I’m going to try and update at least once a week.

"Kendall!" The shrill voice barely registered through the music blasting through my ears. Pausing the track I pushed off my headphones and turned around. I was met with my friend, Matthew, glaring me down.

"Can I help you?"

He rolled his eyes, plopping onto the couch next to my work station.

"You've been ignoring emails, calls, and texts all day. You know those time-sensitive ones that need responses asap."

"Oh calm down, I still have ti..." My voice trailed off when I glanced at the clock on the wall. Four thirty flashed at I'd realized eight hours had passed since I'd come in, instead of the three I'd thought it to be.

"You would think that Ana bringing you the breakfast you ordered and then the lunch from the meeting we had would tip you off. Sometimes you worry me, Kendall. Your brain still working?" Matthew was clearly amused.

My mouth opened and closed, not one comeback surfacing. If I was honest he wasn't wrong, per se. Often when focused on a task it felt like my brain refused to function beyond that. Nothing else mattered and it would last for hours, or days like it did that one time where production deadlines were pushed up from a week out to four days. It didn't help that my sense of time regardless of what I was doing.

"Shut up. Just tell me why you're here."

Matthew being the jerk he is just continued to smile at me, languishing in my annoyed state. He enjoyed rendering my speechless way too much. I think it was because it was the only time he could win against me.

When minutes passed and silence became too much I grabbed a crumpled wrapper from my desk and launched it at his face. His arms waved about in a panicked manner as if he hadn't watched the trash sail through the air and into his face.

"Chop, chop I have things to do."

Picking up the wrapper he launched it back at me, missing by a foot. He seemed less than pleased, but didn't grab anything else to complete his retaliation.

"As I was saying," he huffed, "you've not answered anything all day. There's some stuff double checking sessions, post-production information, two tracks you need to look over, some requests. Oh and obviously that thing from Hals."

"I dare you to call her that to her face."

"What? No. We're not close and that would be weird." His cheeks turned red and he glanced everywhere but at me.

It was so cute. "Your crush is showing."

"I don't have a crush. She's not my type." He scoffed.

It was my turn to scoff and to roll my eyes. I had no clue why he always used that as an excuse. "It's perfectly healthy to acknowledge that even though you are not attracted to female and femme people that they are attractive. Don't know why you weirdos fail to understand you can appreciate a person's beauty without having a thing for them."

Matthew groaned, throwing himself back against the couch. No doubt he was tired of having that conversation with me, but I needed him to get it together. Nothing about being flustered about someone's level of attractiveness meant that you were something you weren't.

Another dramatic sigh from him and he sat up again. "Anyways... you should get those out of the way and then go home. Seeing as I know you have a full day for both your jobs tomorrow. And because you're only here working on your own stuff and not for a client."

Arguments presented themselves in my head, but none of the came out. I was in no mood to back and forth with him all day. Plus, he wasn't wrong yet again. I'd finished working on a song for an upcoming album an hour after I arrived and had only been emptying my head of all the beats locked in there. They tended to be like plot bunnies and those rarely left my head unless I gave them some attention.

"Better idea. I go home and answer the emails." He went to interrupt me, but I held up a finger. "With the promise of getting it all done by seven thirty and sending you images of my empty inbox. As well as the sent box."

For a second he stared me down, eyes narrowed. You could see the gears turning in his head and it almost looked like he'd say no.

"Okay. Go straight home and get it done. I will let myself in if none of that is done and will micromanage the whole process."

He stood and so did I, move in for a hug.

"And stop blocking Marcus when he annoys you. He, your agent, shouldn't have to send me to tell you this stuff," he said as he pulled away.

"Will do."

With one parting glare he left the studio, leaving me to myself. For a moment I just stood there, tired washing over me as I finally realized how long I'd been awake. The night was spent pumping out a scene that had come just as REM sleep was hitting and I'd only gotten about an hour and a half before coming in. I'd knock out the moment I got home if I had my way, but I had stuff to do. So much stuff.

Taking a deep breath I pushed a stray braid behind my ear and got to work cleaning up. Most of the stuff was sitting piled neatly together, so I shoved it into the trash can. Once the bag was tied and next to my door I replaced it and gathered my other stuff. I'd left my laptop at home, so I just shoved my notebooks into my bag along with my chargers. After sending myself everything and saving it in a million different locations I shut it all done and left.

A few people were heading out with me, the workday finishing for everyone. We all nodded in greeting, but thankfully no one stopped to chat. By the time I reached the exit the Uber I ordered awaited me outside and I hopped in. The universe had to love me because besides a greeting my college-age driver didn't say a word to me.

On the ride home I skimmed my emails via phone and noticed that a lot of them weren't even that pressing. Most were just quick things that I could answer right then and there. And of course there was the email from Halsey, but I already knew what it had to say and I didn't have the information she needed with me. As I sifted through the emails about wanting to work with me I saw one that was interesting, but before I could open it we came to a stop.

Glancing up I noticed we were at my building and got out with a quick bye. Walking in I waved at the woman at the security desk and ran to the elevator whose doors were closing quickly. I just barely slid through, hurting my hip a little from it hitting it.

"Shit."

Rubbing it only irritated the area and I was sure I'd have a light bruise by morning. Why I continued to try and squeeze my hips through things knowing that there wasn't enough room I was unsure. One day I would learn. Though probably not.

By the time I reached the inside of my apartment the throbbing had dulled a bit, but increased in frequency. Reaching down to take off my shoes at the door was no, so I had to kick them haphazardly onto the rack.

As I assumed I felt the urge to face plant onto my couch or bed upon entry, but I fought it off. I needed to eat and handle the emails, but I'd drift the moment my fingers stopped typing. So, I rushed to the bathroom, stripped and hopped into the shower. The scorching heat put some pep into me and made me forget all about those articles that said overtly hot showers were bad for you.

Fifteen minutes later I emerged refreshed and with wet braids. Putting on my shower cap was an option but my box braids were almost done for and I couldn't be bothered to try and protect them.

Once I was dry and dressed in a too big shirt and cotton booty shorts I moved to my studio. For a second I thought about working on the track I started at the office, but I knew that I'd spend all my time doing that and only that. It almost sent me out of the studio and took the office I had set up in the spare room, but I needed a lesson in self-control.

Booting everything up I absentmindedly fiddled with the rubix cube I kept on the desk, but never actually tried to solve. After a few seconds, the silence got to me.

"Alexa."

The device glowed from where it was placed on a shelf in the corner.

"Play Always and Forever playlist."

Several seconds later she complied and HyunA's Cause I'm God Girl came on. A smile formed as I hummed along to the song. It was one of my favorites by her. Working with her was still on my goal board and it felt so close and yet so far.

Finally, my computer was ready to go, so I logged in and ignored the call that the icon for my software put out. There was one mission and one mission only. The same urge came when I logged in and saw the copy of the chapter I'd finished sitting in my inbox, but I ignored that as well.

"Focus ya weirdo."

I sped through the rest of the easier emails and forwarded the ones that requested me to work with them to Marcus with a yay or nay. It was technically his job to look and then show me the options, but I preferred to see them myself first.

When I reached Halsey email I almost rolled my eyes, a small laugh at her overly sweet wording. Though cute it made me question if I was being buttered up for something, since she tended to do that when she knew I wouldn't agree or that I was on the fence.

By the time I'd sent her over the tracks similar to what she was looking for, some files of vocals she'd done when I worked with her before and my schedule for the next month my speakers went through two other songs and was playing BTS' Baepsae.

Everything else was taken care of, which left the email I'd seen while in the car. Its subject line was normal, giving nothing away but something about it just felt different. Opening it up the difference jumped out immediately. Korean filled the screen and for a moment my brain shut down. After a deep breath, my eyes scanned the text, slowly decoding what it said. I tripped here and there, because even after ten years of learning it sometimes words were forgotten.

At the end I felt like I'd read the entire thing wrong, my chest was moving rapidly and I didn't know if I should be excited or if this was some cruel joke. Once the Korean stopped English started, all of it relaying what I'd just read. I frantically read until the completion, looking for the words that had sent me into a tizzy and there they were.

Our artist and producer SUGA/Min Yoongi would like it very much if you consider his offer to work together.

J-Hope finished out Baepsae just as I slumped in my chair.

"Holy shit."

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