“Would you rather do it here or in my office?”
An awkward cough-laugh burst from Hyeong-Jun at the words, and Choi SongHua stared at him quizzically for a second before his neck turned red.
Hyeong-Jun’s first day as part of the group had been spent getting a checkup and being weighed. He’d even been allowed an opinion on his outfit for the MV and Summer Solstice performance while getting measured. Well, at least to the extent that he’d prefer it more covered up due to his tendency to get cold easily. Still, it was more than he’d expected. But for the most part it was paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork, all to setup his portfolio with Magpie Entertainment.
Now it was 5PM and Choi SongHua stood awkwardly in Hyeong-Jun’s empty room, the others having deserted them for English lessons.
A vague sense of unease accompanied the dawning realization that Choi SongHua, the man of very few words, would be the one coaching him on the wonders of exorcism.
“You’re going to be helping me with exorcism?” It wasn’t supposed to come out like that.
Choi SongHua blinked back at him, nonplussed. “Is that a problem?”
Hyeong-Jun hurried to shake his head. “No. And here’s fine.” There was a long moment where he and Choi SongHua both hovered, neither comfortable enough in the space to take the lead.
Eventually, Choi SongHua made the first move, putting his folders and bag down on Lee Junho’s desk.
Hyeong-Jun shuffled to his own bedraggled chair, only to buffer as he was met with his empty desk. He knew exactly where his trainee notebook and work pencil case were…in his drawer, at his apartment. Great.
Choi SongHua seemed to notice Hyeong-Jun’s aimless glance around his own side of the room.
“What about those?” Choi SongHua pointed to Hyeong-Jun’s stack of journals.
Hyeong-Jun’s stiffened.
“I-um-” he floundered. “I’ll just use my ph－”
Paper ripped.
Hyeong-Jun’s heart dropped for a second, his eyes jumping again to his journals, still untouched.
He looked back at Choi SongHua to find a piece of paper and a pencil being held out to him.
“Thanks,” Hyeong-Jun awkwardly took them and half turned to the desk to write a headline for his notes.
Still self-conscious, he searched for anything to distract Choi SongHua. “Can you speak English?” He regretted it as soon as the words came out－more an accusation than a question thanks to his nerves.
Choi SongHua must’ve picked up on it as well since he simply watched Hyeong-Jun with an indecipherable look.
“I was just wondering why you were giving up your English classes, isn’t there an exorcism teacher or something like that?” Hyeong-Jun hurried to explain.
Choi SongHua snorted, stunning Hyeong-Jun. “No, it’s a secret passed down in families, it’s not something that should be shared. I can understand English. MinHwan-i is the best at speaking it but I’m not going to expect him to give these lessons, regardless of what you might think.” Hyeong-Jun froze, unsure what to make of the ending comment.
“Oh,” was all he could think to say.
Choi SongHua opened one of the files he’d brought and Hyeong-Jun glanced at it curiously, but was unable to discern anything.
“So you’re raised knowing about all of this?” Hyeong-Jun ventured once his thoughts had settled some.
Choi SongHua paused long enough that Hyeong-Jun glanced at him askance, only to be met with an assessing gaze.
Finally he shook his head. “Generally they－we’re kept in the dark about it until we come of age.” Choi SongHua’s abrupt shift in words peaked Hyeong-Jun’s interests.
“Were you?”
Choi SongHua hesitated. “No.” There was finality in the answer. Another pause. “Your parents didn’t tell you anything?” he asked.
All his mother’s ghost stories flashed through Hyeong-Jun’s mind. A potentially harsh reality instead of fantastical bedtime stories. Had any of them been real? “No.”
Choi SongHua pursed his lips.
“The exorcism we practice is through the use of music. It consists of three components depending on the exorcism style.” Choi SongHua said, catching Hyeong-Jun off guard. He hastily scribbled it down in short hand.
“Style?” Hyeong-Jun muttered with a frown. He hadn’t truly meant for Choi SongHua to hear, yet the other man nodded when Hyeong-Jun looked up.
“Some cultures have different exorcism styles, Chinese exorcism is the closest to Korea’s. Korean exorcism is based around the movements, the lyrics and the voice. Chinese exorcism is based around instruments, melodies and movements.”
Hyeong-Jun found himself leaning into Choi SongHua’s words, curious.
“Lyrics? Like the ones Tae-Gyung-sunbae is writing?”
Choi SongHua stiffened.
“Yes. Lyrics can be very important to the success of an exorcism. You can’t just use any song for exorcism, they need to be written for it.”
“Why K-pop?” Hyeong-Jun couldn’t help wondering.
“Because it’s popular.” The answer was matter-of-fact.
“Sorry?”
“Exorcists gravitate to whatever music is the most popular at the time.”
Hyeong-Jun frowned. “Popular? Why?”
“Because it offers them control over when and where to have performances so it’s easy to do exorcism on the regular. And if the music is replayed by fans it acts as a calming agent in the general vicinity of where the music is being played.”
“So it makes the spirits crave death?” Hyeong-Jun frowned, making a small note as he asked the question.
“What?” Choi SongHua’s words sounded strange. Hyeong-Jun looked up to find Choi SongHua staring at him in alarm.
“Like the music that night, doesn’t it make them want the sweet release of death?” Hyeong-Jun would’ve cringed at his over dramatic description, if it weren’t for the pale shock on Choi SongHua’s face.
Hyeong-Jun opened his mouth－
A buzzing sound stopped him.
Choi SongHua frowned, glancing at his phone. “Sorry, let me get this.” He brought the phone to his ear and greeted whoever was on the other side.
Hyeong-Jun was suspended in silence, watching as Choi SongHua tapped fingers on the table, the band of a ring tonk-tonked against the wood of the desk.
“You promised there wouldn’t be any issues, I’m busy with－” The tapping stopped. “Okay fine, just hold on.” Choi SongHua covered the speaker with his hand, attention back on Hyeong-Jun. “I’m sorry, I need to take this.”
Hyeong-Jun could barely nod before Choi SongHua was up, the door closing behind him.
Hyeong-Jun stared down at the few notes that he’d managed to take, feeling a little like he was back in England, trying to understand a new language. Fitting that this was taking place during what was supposed to be his language classes.
Hyeong-Jun waited, mindlessly doodling random flowers that, if you squinted, could resemble the ones dotting the Magpie dorm gardens.
The wait dragged out, the torn piece of paper quickly becoming more flowers than notes.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside and stopped in front of the room door.
Was Choi SongHua waiting for something?
Wait.
A key. He had no way to get back into the room without a key card.
Upon opening the door however, Hyeong-Jun immediately wished he hadn’t.
It wasn’t Choi SongHua.
Instead he was met with a very caught off-guard Han Tae-Gyung, gripping a plastic bag with what looked like food and a bottle of orange soda in it.
“Oh. SongHua-sunbae took a phone call, I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”
“I wasn’t looking for－” Han Tae-Gyung cut himself off, brow furrowing with anger. “Nevermind.”
“Oh.” Now what? Where was anyone, anyone who would know how to handle this better?
“Is English class over?” Hyeong-Jun attempted, eager to fill the silence. The language classes had clearly been allocated an hour. Had something come up?
“No.” The simple statement hung in the air, making Hyeong-Jun squirm with discomfort.
More silence, wonderful.
“Oh lucky, my company was super strict on that, we weren’t allowed to miss any classes, though they were surprisingly relaxed about social media so I guess there’s pros and cons to both.” Why was Hyeong-Jun even trying again?
Instead of any hint of commiseration from Han Tae-Gyung, Hyeong-Jun was met with a blank look.
“Well they can’t get rid of me. See you around.”
