Ain't Like That

Chapter 3

"What?!" Zico slammed his hands on the table, causing Hyoseob to jump, "What do you mean you aren't doing music anymore?!"
The microwave beeped and the kitchen got quiet. Hyoseob took out his food and sat it on the table before leaving it alone to cool. He looked at Zico and shrugged with a blank expression, "I'm just done, man. I wanna live like a normal person. Music is good and all, but.. I don't know, I'm not feeling it anymore."
Zico raised his eyebrows. A normal person.
"A normal person? Really? When you become someone like Crush, there is no more being a normal person! Shin Hyoseob should be dead, not Crush!"
"Soooo..." Hyoseob opened his bottle of juice, "You're basically saying you want the real me to die?"
"What? No, but-" he was cut off.
"But.. I am Shin Hyoseob and you just said Shin Hyoseob should be dead."
Zico sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, "I didn't mean that. I just, I wanna do music. Again. I want you to keep doing music, it makes you happy, right?"
"Okay." Hyoseob answered, only partially listening as he took a bite of his hot pocket. Immediately, he dropped it back onto the plate and muttered, "Shit, it's still hot."
He drank his juice in attempt to ease the pain and Zico continued his chatter.
"You didn't even answer my question, but anyways.. Dude you can't just quit the music industry like that, not without telling anyone, not without telling me. There are people out there waiting for your ass. Waiting for you to collab with them, waiting for a single, waiting for an album! And what do you do? Go on a fake hiatus and work at a supermarket!"
Hyoseob's eyebrow twitched and he set the half empty bottle down and belched. He leaned forward some as if he were going to tell Zico a secret, but his volume remained moderate, "Zico. Music is... My life. Well, no. It's Crush's life. But this? This feeling of being humble without having to try. The feeling of knowing what you're working for. Knowing that you're working for every little thing you have. Hyoseob loves this; I love this."
He took a second try at the hot pocket, which was a success this time, and groaned in ecstasy.
"Seriously," his mouth was full and his words were muffled, "I can't afford hot pockets. And being able to have one in god knows how many months.. Success."
Zico stared at him blankly. He wasn't sure if he just didn't understand or if he did understand, and this was just all about being able to appreciate expensive foods more often. Part of his mind kept telling him, This guy's an idiot! But the other part figured he was probably just missing something.
"I'm going to the basement." He said abruptly and got up to leave Hyoseob to his food frenzy.
Hyoseob didn't even acknowledge the fact that Zico left the kitchen. He just continued eating that hot pocket sensually.

About three quarters of an hour later, Hyoseob was finished with everything he pulled out to eat and was now searching for the wifi password in the living room. Zico came back from the basement with a few papers in his hands. He was quiet and didn't alarm Hyoseob till he came up behind him. It scared the shit out of him. He turned around, clutching his chest and breathing hard just to ask, "Why?"
"The password is dicksauce."
"......." Hyoseob awkwardly pulled his phone from his pocket and put the password in. His eyebrows shot up when the wifi instantly connected.
Zico continued, "Here. Read this. Tell me what you think," he held out the papers to his friend.
Hyoseob skeptically looked from Zico, to the papers, then back at Zico before snatching them.
"What's this?" he didn't look at them.
"Music."
"Zi-"
"Please. I wrote it myself."
Hyoseob pursed his lips and sighed, "Fine."
"Great. You got music, you got wifi, there's plenty of food. You might as well stay here for the night," Zico hinted more or less. Not like this was part of his plan or anything.
"Sure, I guess.."