✑ 2 bored songwriters | m.yg ✑

track 3: zombie apocalypse

"Do you think you'll survive a zombie apocalypse?" Yoongi asks expectantly.

Whenever Yoongi asks a question that has nothing to do with what we're working on, then it means he's ready to take a break. What a fun way to announce that you're exhausted!

"Yes." 

"I could suspect a white lie in that answer."

"Okay, Judge Judy, why do you think I can't survive a zombie apocalypse?"

He contemplates for a while before answering.

"You couldn't care less."

"I can suspect you holding back your actual thoughts. It's okay, you can call me lazy."

"If you're gonna blatantly admit it then...."

I pass him a death glare, which makes him immediately look down at his notes. We continue to write a few lyrics in silence. We weren't informed about what kind of song we were supposed to compose, so we wrote whatever echoed in our mind the loudest.

Yoongi's phone starts ringing, startling me too. He picks it up and listens to the entire conversation without saying a single word. His mouth gapes open when the call comes to an end. He turns to me, mouth wide open.

"What? Are we finally gonna have to write a song on sex?" I question.

He immediately closes his mouth and scrunches his face in disgust. "Eww, how could you even think that?"

"Yeah, angel of purity, let's see what you have in your drafts—"

"We have to write a refreshing/cute song for a girl group." He spurts out, protecting his notepad with all his might.

I freeze in place, not knowing where to even start from. I wasn't really experienced in this field, and from the looks of it, neither was Yoongi.

"What would you write about if you were in a girl group?" Yoongi questions me. Why does he think interrogating me is going to be useful?

"Boys." I answer jokingly.

"Are you serious?"

"I love bad boys~~~" I sing, making Yoongi cover up his ears. He starts scooting away from me, too.

"Don't do that ever again."

"Why? Are you afraid that you're gonna get attracted because it was my mating call and you're a bad boy?"

"No, you just suck at singing."

I throw a paper airplane at him. It hits his forehead, and he yelps as it pokes him.

"What was that for?"

"Manager warned us not to get violent, so I made these as a coping mechanism."

"You're really something."

I shrug in response. "Jokes aside, I wouldn't only write about boys... I would write about period cramps, weird cravings, pets, wanting bigger pockets—"

"They have infinitely small pockets, true." He interrupts.

"- yes. As I was saying; bigger pockets for clothes, wanting to be recognised, understanding my worth, the unnatural expectations from society, wanting to travel and food. Honestly, anything that a boy group can talk about... there are no such differences. But.. I guess you gotta maintain an 'essence of the girls' if you're working under a label, so basically, setting limits."

"How did it go from pets to wanting to be recognised?" He was genuinely shocked at the range of topics which made me feel good, not going to lie.

"Didn't you see I came back to food anyway?"

"I was trying to ignore your inner gluttony, but it seems you deliberately want me to take notes of your weird sides."

I can't win with this guy, I swear I can't.

"Stop blasting me and come up with a subject!"

"I wish a zombie apocalypse would start right now."