With a single white-wired earphone in our ears between us, we were sitting side by side in front of the narrow console desk.
The music kept flowing. A melody where a gentle bass and dreamy synthesizer intertwined.
But I couldn’t really take in what song it was. I couldn’t even pull away an inch for fear the cord would go taut, because all my attention was on the feel of Wonbin’s right shoulder pressed against mine.
The warmth I could feel through the thin school uniform shirt.
The slight rise and fall near his collarbone with every breath in and out.
"Sunbae, how is this part?"
Wonbin only tilted his head slightly while staring at the monitor. For a fleeting moment, his breath brushed so close it seemed it would touch the tip of my chin.
"Huh? Oh… good. Really good."
"I haven’t put lyrics on it yet, but I thought if I put it right after the festival opening line, it might really grab the audience’s attention."
"You… made this yourself?"
At my question, Wonbin’s fingers paused over the screen with the keyboard graphic on it.
He absentmindedly spun the mouse wheel, shrugging as if it were nothing.
"I just… messed with it when I was bored at night. It’s nothing special."
Nothing special, huh. It was surprising that a junior I’d only known as the broadcasting club’s engineer had made such a polished song all by himself, and the fact that he was letting me hear that secret piece first made some corner of my chest feel strangely excited.
"It’s really sensuous. Then I’ll have to nail the festival line. If I want to ride on your music."
"Sunbae, you’re good at lines already. That’s why I asked you."
It was said casually, but the corners of his mouth curved into a soft arc.
That was when it happened. Outside the windowRumble-a low clap of thunder sounded, and the harsh patter of rain on the glass broke the studio’s silence. For spring rain, it was a pretty fierce downpour.
"It’s raining."
Wonbin stared blankly out the window.
Raindrops scraped diagonally down the glass, smearing the city streetlights. The dark school building, the broadcasting room at the far end of the third floor, and just the two of us. The rain sound and melody, heard through a single earphone, were creating an atmosphere completely different from the lunchtime radio in the day.
"Wonbin."
"Yeah?"
"That… secret notebook thing."
Wonbin flinched and turned toward me. His eyes were slightly guarded, as if to say, So it’s that story again?
"Not that. The music you usually write down—could you tell me about it too?"
"Why?"
"Because I want to know your taste better too."
At my honest words, blurted out without any filter, Wonbin’s eyes wavered.
He fiddled with the earphone cord and couldn’t get the words out. The tips of his ears were turning red again.
The studio amp indicators, green and orange lights blinking, softly lit Wonbin’s cheeks.
"Sunbae… why do you keep making people so conscious of you."
"What did I do."
"You just… come in so casually all of a sudden."
Wonbin muttered softly and bowed his head. He looked so flustered and ticklish that my own ears heated up before I knew it. A distance of just one earphone cord. If I reached out, I felt like I could stroke the round back of his head, and if I moved just a little closer, it seemed like we’d hear each other’s heartbeats louder than the music.
Thunk.
Suddenly, with the sound of the breaker by the hallway tripping, the yellow incandescent lights on the broadcasting room ceiling went out.
"Ah."
Total darkness. In the space where only the monitor’s bluish glow remained, the startled Wonbin reflexively clutched the sleeve of my school uniform tightly. His fingers were tense with force.
"Looks like a blackout."
My voice echoed low in the dark. Wonbin didn’t answer; instead, he kept holding onto my sleeve.
Wonbin’s face, lit by the monitor glow. His gaze slowly lifted and locked exactly with mine. Maybe because it was dark, but his breathing seeped in much more clearly and closely than the beat beyond the earphone.
