"Why is it you? Why did it have to be you? Why can't I leave you?"

0:00 |───────── 3:31

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The phone call that came the next day was a blessing and a curse to her ears. Everything was too loud or too bright.

"WE DID IT!" Ms. Cho shouted through the phone.

Speaking Korean. Good sign.

"Did you get the contract figured out?" Rein squealed, sitting up in bed.

The fact was, the contract negotiation at that point was just a formality. The dinner was indeed a part of the plan, and she knew now that it was a test to see if they would get along. The members undoubtedly reported back to their managers and gave them insight into how they would work together, which helped to close the deal faster.

The traces of her headache that had started the minute she had woken up was suddenly gone in a miraculous fix. As Ms. Cho chattered on the phone about the schedule, she picked up a notepad and started writing everything down, trying to pay attention to the voice she tuned out most of the time.

It was hard work.

Once she wrote down the official practice schedules and extensions of the contract, she agreed to meet her that night to celebrate at Luka 511, an (apparently) prestigious restaurant in Gangnam. She agreed, but only if she could have champagne without Ms. Cho scolding her.

"Of course," the manager cooed. "We are celebrating, aren't we?"

Oh, boy. You're really in a good mood. It was almost creepy seeing her manager this happy. She appeared to have only two moods: disapproving and professional. (total poker face, "don't talk to me until I have my coffee" kind of mood.)

After a few minutes, she hung up, flung herself on the bed and screeched into her pillow. This was it. This was the ticket to international fame, and that road started the next morning at eight. ("You should get in an hour earlier," Ms. Cho had said on the phone. "That way you'll be seen as a hard worker." Rein couldn't guarantee a punctual arrival time on her part.)

How did this happen to me? The opportunity to work with these people was something that had to be cherished, never taken for granted. What hidden charm, talent, grace did she have to pull this off? She decided not to question it.

Hard work paid off, after all.

She did indeed come early to the studio. Namjoon was already there and greeted her warmly. He showed her the studio, something of a sanctuary for the rapper trio. The atmosphere was dark, though the lights were turned on. There was a sound mixer and a few computers to edit music. He pulled up a chair for Rein.

After he sat down and started talking about the lyrics he had seen the previous day and what they could do to add to it, she noticed he kept looking down at his phone every few seconds. She endured it until the seventh time.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Uh, no, nothing's wrong. Yoongi's supposed to come soon..." He checked his phone again and leaned back in his chair, putting his arm over his face. He peeked over at Rein after a few seconds.

"Sorry. I'm usually not like this," he said. "It's just, like, this is literally the worst time for Yoongi to not come in early."

"No no, it's fine! I completely understand. Y'all are overworked most of the time, anyways. I wouldn't want him to strain himself too much, you know?"

"Trust me, he won't do anything he doesn't want to do," Namjoon said with a light chuckle.

After a while, he threw up his hands in a defeated gesture. "You know what? Let's just get started before he comes. Do you have your file with you?" She nodded, bringing it out of her backpack and holding it up with a smile.

"Alright, let's look at my notes real quick..." He flipped through the papers and got to the right one. He scanned the page, then handed it back to Rein.

"I'm gonna start drafting my verse. Do you think you could start on another song?" he asked cautiously.

"Sure."

"So, my plan is to have this song complete by maybe the end of today or tomorrow and get started on another song by that time. Does that work or nah?"

She smiled, then said, "I'm sure we could do that." He gave her a thumbs up.

"You can work wherever you want in the studio," he said, before turning to his sheet of paper and scribbling notes. He furrowed his brows as he worked.

She turned to her own lyrics; she had some ideas for a new song, one about a person that wanted to leave.

Without knowing it, she had subconsciously based it off of herself, as she embodied her pure love for music into a sole person. That pure love was disappearing quickly, however. It slowly became tainted with others' input.

And money.

She was chained to the music industry. It was a factory, churning out thousands of people like her. Rein Jones wasn't really Rein Jones at the end of the day. Instead, she was a cash cow for corporate pigs.

Her sense of individual self slowly slipped from her hands. It was as if she was getting to know herself again, but the more she tried, the further it flew out of her grasp, like that dreamy, grey smoke. It was indicative of a greater problem she refused to address, keeping it in the back of her mind like a broken record that wouldn't turn off, so she simply lowered the volume.

Rein pushed the thoughts aside when she realized she was wasting time; there was no time in her schedule for an existential crisis. However, the short but deep delve into her mind let her access some untapped creative juices, letting her write a complete first draft of her song in five minutes, (pop was almost too simple to write after doing it for so long) while also editing the original song.

It was easy writing for BTS, as much as she didn't want to admit it. They had a certain aesthetic, a certain vibe to their songs that she quickly learned. Their songs had a theme to it, almost painting scenery for the listener. She relaxed, knowing the lyrics could be in English, as the other writers would pick parts of their choosing to be switched over into Korean, but she doubted they would edit it too much.

After about twenty minutes of silence, Namjoon was the one to break it. She had been staring off into space, lost in her thoughts.

"How's it coming?" he asked, looking over at her page.

Just then, Yoongi walked in, his head tilted down. He plopped on the couch and greeted Rein wordlessly before turning to Namjoon.

"So, what's happening?" he said. Namjoon paused for a moment, and Rein could practically see the gears turning in his head.

How to respond to such a casual yet irritating question? he was most likely thinking. Finally, he sighed and gave Yoongi a passive-aggressive smile.

"Remember when I said us two had to be early so that we could edit? What happened to that plan?" he asked, leaning on his elbows. Yoongi shrugged.

"I was working." He seemed more on edge than usual, his reply having a bit more snap to it.

She hated people fighting in front of her. It made her awkward, like a third wheel almost. She either wanted to break it up or pretend she wasn't there. Though this wasn't a fight, Yoongi's biting comments weren't improving Namjoon's already soured mood. However, Namjoon's patience didn't fail him.

"Just... Would it be possible for you to write some lyrics for this?" He handed him the page that he had been working on along with her original lyrics before he could reply. Yoongi took it, grabbed a pen, and sat on the couch without a word. He looked up from time to time to give Rein an impressed look, only to go back to work seconds later.

When he was done, he handed it back to Namjoon, nodded at Rein, then took the seat next to her where the computers were. He put on his headphones as the universal sign to fuck off, and Rein gave Namjoon a confused look.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "he's like this in the morning." She had read that he was introverted, but on camera, he was much more presentable. But she supposed as the introvert he was, he simply was tired of socializing, and Yoongi would be the last person to beat around the bush about that.

"Where's Hoseok?" she whispered back to him a few minutes later. She knew he was the rapper that completed the trio, and she was also under the impression that he wrote his own lyrics.

"He's usually in the dance studio practicing. He'll probably come back later to write his parts for the song," he said, not looking up from his paper. She noticed he had his glasses on today, not contacts.

After a couple of hours, the editing process was complete. In less than an hour, there in front of her the polished draft of "Soar", her first song with BTS.

"Now, I took a look at your other song, and I think that one has potential, too," Yoongi said. "Namjoon wrote some verses for the rap to fill it out."

"It's pretty good, maybe even better than "Soar"," Namjoon said with a shrug. She frowned.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, defensive.

"I don't know. It just seemed more... Genuine," Namjoon articulated, looking at Rein. She felt his eyes searching for something in her face, and she put her head down, refusing to look back at him.

"I guess you could say that," she murmured, barely audible. But she knew he had heard her.

"Let's see what Yoongi can do with it, and we can go from there," he said with a soft smile, oblivious to her inner conflict. Rein felt strange. The song felt so vulnerable and naked. She honestly didn't know what she was thinking when she wrote it. Maybe she wasn't thinking, period. It just flowed out of her like a faucet with a leak. It had been put to the side as she sat, lost in her own abyss of thought. She didn't even know someone read it, but she should have known better.

"Yeah, sure." Rein excused herself to go to the bathroom. He looked toward the door as it shut, confused.

"What do you think about her? Yoongi asked as soon as the door closed, taking off his headphones and facing him. Namjoon shrugged.

"She's nice enough. Professional." Yoongi didn't seem satisfied with the vague answer.

"I'm surprised about the Korean thing," he said, looking at his computer now.

"Me too."

"You knew, didn't you?" Namjoon nodded.

"Well, we had spoken before."

"She's pretty good." Namjoon didn't respond, and Yoongi didn't pursue the topic further. Instead, they sat in their comfortable bubble of silence, perhaps in two completely different worlds without knowing it.

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A/N: Sorry for the abrupt ending lol. I can't believe I have 161 reads... When I started, I thought I would barely get 10... Love you all!

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