13. Recording

THIRTEEN

They spendthe next four days in the recording studio laying down their tracks one by one. This is Charis' chance to shine. Fairytale's hyung line also happens to be its vocal line. Although their producers work hard to make sure they have a fair amount of line distribution, lest they incur the almighty wrath of Charms online, their main and lead vocalists still do the majority of the work of carrying the singing parts of the song.

That includes Charis.

"That take was good," says their sound producer. Charis lifts his head up toward the clear plexiglass to listen. "Let's run through it again, but this time, can you give a little more on the chorus?"

"More. You want more energy?"

"Show a little aggression," the producer, Yoo Dakho, says. "A little of that—grahh, you know?"

Charis nods, lifting his hands up to steady the big, studio headphones situated on his ears. The music starts up, and they take it from the top. Charis does his best, punching his lines out, doing his best to put his heart into them.

He looks up to the producer once the take is over. The producer hesitates for a second before Charis hears the telltale click and the fuzzy sound of dead air that signifies him hitting the button to turn on his mic.

"That was better, but you still sound a little too nice, you know? The concept of this album is Wasteland. Try to show us a new side to you, Charis-ah."

Charis nods. They do it again. This time, the producer stops him sooner.

Charis is a professional. He's recorded three mini-albums in his time with Fairytale. However, even he starts to feel frustrated and stressed after take after take and none of them has been right. He's professional enough to hide it, but some of it must leak through—or maybe the rumors really have been going around, and everyone does just think Charis is just that fragile these days.

Yoo Dakho finally calls it. "Why don't we take a break, ah?"

"I can keep going," Charis is quick to reassure.

"That's okay, Charis-ah. Rest your voice so you'll be fresh. I want to get some takes from Mouse-ah."

It stings, but throwing a tantrum and showing it isn't going to put anyone in his favor. Charis takes the dismissal for what it is and bows stiffly, hanging the studio headphones back on their podium.

"Mouse, you're up," one of the assistants comes out to get Mouse.

Mouse swaggers into the studio booth. He's wrapped up in a designer hoodie, black with the white label showing. He's got a beanie on his head, sitting low near his eyes. Charis' mouth quirks up in a faint smile as he recognizes it as the one that he'd gotten for Mouse on a whim on his last shopping trip.

The music starts up, the same music that Charis has been listening to over and over on an endless loop for the better part of an hour. Although the sound is isolated in the booth, Charis can still hear it in the silent beats. His mind fills in the rest, knowing exactly where each beat and hook and melody should fall. His body starts to move a little, tiny dance moves isolated to his wrists, arms, and feet. All of them are afflicted with this particular disease—especially when they're in the middle of actively learning a choreography, it's hard not to fall into it every time the music starts up.

Charis drifts to the space behind Yoo-ssi, quiet to make sure not to disturb his work as he captures the sound of Mouse's vocals. Although Charis doesn't have as clear of a sound to Mouse's singing without a pair of headphones on, he can still listen to the ambient sound that comes through the speakers.

Mouse doesn't get it perfect on the first try, but listening to him rap and then sing, Charis can hear immediately exactly what he was missing. Mouse is full of life when he spits bars, really burning like the picture of fiery youth.

He grabs onto his headphones as he looks up, breathing a little hard as he finishes his first run-through.

"Really good, Mouse-ah! Let's try it again from the top. I want to try something—let's see if you can give it a little different texture. Play with it some."

"Got it."

Charis is rapt as he watches Mouse. Mouse is always very good. He's been called one of the top contenders for all-around ace in their generation, and watching him, Charis can't disagree. Mouse is charismatic effortlessly.

Charis always enjoys his performances and has never begrudged Mouse his talents, but as he continues to watch Mouse's recording session, a sour feeling spreads and grows deep in his chest.

It's just, watching Mouse, listening to him sing, it really puts a spotlight on all of Charis' deficiencies, doesn't it? He isn't talented. He only fakes it by working harder than everyone else. Even then, he's just a paltry imitation. He's sure people can tell?—

He'd honestly meant to watch the rest of Mouse's recording. Definitely, he'd meant to stay close.

Xiao Yu raises his head like a bloodhound from the leather couch in the corner of the room. All their stuff is piled on the floor and shoved against the walls, backpacks and drawstring workout bags, Charis' own cross-body bag. The recording room is always kind of pleasantly cluttered with books and binders crammed into the bookcases lining the walls and records posted on the pegboard. It reminds Charis of ski lodges he's seen in American movies.

First and foremost, Xiao Yu recognizes the weird aura around Charis. He seems upset and tense. Xiao Yu casually flicks his eyes away.

"Hey, Kiki, you thirsty?" Xiao Yu nudges him slightly.

Kiki rouses from where he's been playing a mobile game on his phone. "Yeah," Kiki mumbles, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Diet lemon, please."

Xiao Yu nods with a slap to Kiki's shoulder and gets up, unfolding his tall body from the couch and cracking his neck. Kiki makes a face and twitches his shoulder, shaking the sting out of it.

Xiao Yu turns off the display to his phone and slips it in the pocket of his tracksuit pants.

"C'mon, help me carry drinks," Xiao Yu says to Charis, snagging him as he goes by.

Yoo Dakho glances up and raises a hand, giving them the silent go-ahead to take a break.

Charis leaves reluctantly. He'd wanted to watch the rest of Mouse's set.

Xiao Yu looks rakishly handsome, more like some kind of b-boy hooligan than the idol he is. He'd had a line shaved into the beginning of one of his eyebrows, and it only serves to highlight his intense looks. His hair is short and clean. It looks softer like this, when it isn't styled.

The lone vending machine in the building sits in a little-used hallway. Xiao Yu feeds his money into it, his lushly lined, heavy eyes as sleepy as a hunter's as he punches the right combinations on the machine. The light from the vending machine interior highlights Xiao Yu's features with a ghostly glow, making his strong and high cheekbones stand out.

The drinks fall to the retrieval slot with dull thuds that reverberate through the carpeted hallway. The air is cold, and Charis can feel goosebumps pricking his skin even beneath his thin jacket.

Xiao Yu doesn't ask for Charis' input, only loads up his arms once Xiao Yu gets more drinks than he can actually hold.

He pauses, leaning one arm against the machine as he turns to Charis. "You still like the pink drink, yeah? The cranberry peach?"

"Un."

Xiao Yu gets one of those, too.

"Hope they appreciate us going out of our way like this," Xiao Yu mutters without heat on the way back.

Xiao Yu isn't about to have a pep talk with Charis. For one thing, he's really not the guy for it. Still, he'd seen, from his place on the couch. He was scrolling Weibo, keeping up with the recent trends back home. It wasn't very hard to read, the way Charis was looking at Mouse. It's just… not very necessary, for Charis to be feeling like that.

He spies the double doors that lead to the outside and makes a sudden beeline. "Hey, let's go out here."

Charis looks at him with momentary confusion, glances back to the closed door of the studio where the ‘now recording' sign above the door is lit up in red, and looks back at Xiao Yu. He shrugs and follows.

"Nice to get some air," Xiao Yu groans as soon as they step outdoors.

To their left, a staff noona is smoking a cigarette, which she hurriedly finishes. The scent of cigarette smoke isn't unpleasant as it lingers in the cold, crisp air after she's gone. She goes back inside, leaving the two of them alone with the soothing, dull drone of the faraway city. The horizon line is bleached in hues of a cloudy early afternoon.

Xiao Yu drapes himself over the railing, glancing down at all of the scenery below. "It'll be worth it once our CB is ready, but sometimes I don't know how we survive."

"It's rough stuff, huh?"

The fresh air does a lot to clear Charis' head. He opens his drink with a pop and takes a long sip, the cool taste of cranberry and peach flooding his mouth. The sugar does something to revive his mood, and the chill against his teeth in the cold autumn air is shockingly pleasant. Charis lets out a deep, heavy sigh and hangs his arms over the railing too.

He silently drinks his juice until he's consumed about half of it. In the meantime, his mood has drastically improved. The fresh air, sugar, and Xiao Yu's silent company have helped. He feels sturdier and more himself again by the time he straightens.

"Hey, take a picture with me," he says all of a sudden, reaching out to tap Xiao Yu's arm.

Xiao Yu lifts his head from where he's been pillowed in his arms and blinks his heavy eyelashes in surprise. Charis isn't usually the one to whip out the selfie cam, but he takes it in stride.

"Alright. Now?"

"Mn."

They turn around, and Charis holds up his phone. The screen captures the both of them leaning back against the stone wall that separates the balcony from a two-story drop. Behind them, you can see the tops of trees.

Charis couldn't tell you why he suddenly felt the urge to record this moment. It doesn't hurt that it's part of fulfilling his idol duties. This is some strange in-between impulse, caught between public and private. The desire to record this moment of peace, the desire to show something of himself to the world.

I'm here,the picture says. I'm an idol, too.

It's true that some of their fans won't accept that Xiao Yu is a valuable part of their group, too, but in many ways, Charis always feels like Xiao Yu is more of an idol than he is. He's got some innate star quality that Charis doesn't feel like he was born with. He tells the world who he is, and he fearlessly dares them to not like it.

Standing there in the frame of his camera viewfinder, on the screen side by side, it's proof that Charis can stand alongside him. That he can stand alongside all of them.

Xiao Yu would think his thoughts were ridiculous if he knew. He doesn't know anyone who's more of an idol than Charis-hyung, Mouse included. Ice Prince, they call him. Charis is aloof in a way that makes people want to come closer, like a beautiful and untouchable star in the sky.

They sling their arms around each other, and Xiao Yu holds up a V-sign. They're serious-faced and smoldering, not smiling like Miyong often is in his photos. They tilt their heads toward each other, and their slight height difference—Xiao Yu taller than Charis by a few centimeters—is so attractive. It's a nice picture.

Charis snaps a good one on the first try. They mess around and take a few more pictures of each other. Soon, they pick up their drinks from the ground and go back inside. They're met with enthusiastic gratitude, and Mouse comes out of the sound booth just in time for Charis to hand him his drink.

It's barley tea, and Mouse takes it gratefully, cracking the seal and pouring half of it down his parched throat in one go. He gasps when he's finished and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. "Thanks, Pocky."

Charis jerks a thumb in Xiao Yu's direction. "Thank Xiao Yu, it was his idea and his money."

Mouse immediately slings a heavy arm over his shoulder, pushing down hard enough to dig into Xiao Yu's shoulder and weigh him down, even though Xiao Yu is much more built and muscular than he is. "Thank you, my cute little dongsaeng."

Mouse's sudden sneak attack has Xiao Yu making a face and immediately shoving him off. "Frick, what are you so bony for? Get off."

Mouse only grins and cackles, and Kiki glances up from the couch as he sips on his diet lemon soda.

Later, Charis posts that picture taken with Xiao Yu in the cool, clean air on Instagram, along with the caption, "Wasteland Princes coming to you. Please wait for it."