Chapter Text
Jihoon isn't sure what to expect when meeting the members of rookie boy group Icarus.
He isn't used to producing for other groups, has only done it once or twice, but he supposes this one should be familiar territory – a pre-debut group of boys, half of them not even twenty, all of them with the same awkward but passionate energy that he and his members had over a decade ago. He's got experience with the type of music these boys would suit, which he supposes is part of why the company had chosen him, even if it's been a while since he last made something with such a youthful sound.
(The other part, of course, is that they're his juniors, and it gives them a headstart if their debut title track is being produced by such a beloved senior idol in the same company, whether the track is good or not. He tries not to think about how much easier it would have been if his own group had been given this kind of advantage so early on, instead of putting it all on his shoulders.)
The staff showed him some of the cover performances they'd done already. They're good performers, that much he can tell even from just a couple of practice videos. If he squints, some of the members might remind him of his own, at that age – the puppy-like Mingyu-type, the quiet seeming member that brings to mind 17 year old Wonwoo, the bouncy maknae with Dokyeom-ish vocals.
The first time he meets them, it's to show the drafts he's worked on for them. The company reviewed them already, but they want to hear out the members opinions, even if they probably already have their mind made up on which song they'll choose. Jihoon isn't nervous about recieving constructive criticism from teenagers, but he does hope they like the song enough that he doesn't have to feel bad for making them record it.
Seeing them all lined up in front of him for the first time, when they're doing their introductions, makes certain group dynamics obvious, and he tries making mental note of them. The maknae seems clingy, so he might need another member around for moral support. The main rapper, the quiet one, will probably take some time to get comfortable, so Jihoon might have to try cracking a few jokes first. The lead dancer is excitable, and Jihoon hopes he can calm down in the studio, but he's perfectly used to that level of hyperactivity from working with Soonyoung.
His observation is for the sake of practicality as much as curiosity. He's worked with his own members for long enough to know how they act in the recording booth, but he's out of his depth with this new group. Any information he can get about their temperaments will be useful.
Jihoon can tell who the leader is before he's told. He's the one to signal the other members to start introductions but the last to introduce himself, and, when they'd entered, he had an arm around another member's shoulder, presumably trying to soothe whatever anxiety they had about meeting a scary senior producer for the first time.
It's confirmed, of course, when he does finally introduce himself.
"Hello, I'm the leader and main dancer of Icarus, Lee Chan – ah, Dino, I mean. It's nice to meet you, sunbaenim, I'm a big fan of your work."
"Ah, don't mention it. I'm looking forward to working with you all, as well," Jihoon says.
Despite stumbling on his stage name, Lee Chan/Dino definitely seems more comfortable in this environment than the other members. Jihoon wonders if he's more experienced or if he's really already this confident as the leader. Either way, Jihoon hopes it means that he'll be helpful in wrangling the other members, so Jihoon doesn't have to do it himself.
With introductions finished, the group's manager starts briefing them about something or other. Jihoon has heard this kind of speech enough times from his own managers to be able to tune it out, opting instead to double check that he's pulled up the correct files.
He's not the only one zoning out their manager, he finds – when he glances back at the members, Dino is already looking his way.
--
Dino is the first member to record lines, which is a good thing for Jihoon, because it's early in the morning and he is just a bit too tired to be polite yet. Thankfully (or maybe annoyingly, Jihoon can't tell), Dino's smile only gets wider when his, "Hello again Woozi-sunbaenim!" is met with a nod and a noncommittal hum.
"We'll start from the chorus, Dino-ssi, whenever you're ready."
Dino looks surprisingly at home in the recording booth, and, when he starts on his first line, Jihoon can tell he's just as talented as he'd seemed in the practice videos. Of course, Jihoon has to award him with the highest possible praise: "Hm, not bad... let's try that part one more time. I'd like to hear some extra emphasis on the last few words."
Dino nods determinedly, his expression reminding Jihoon a bit of an anime protagonist. It takes every fiber in his being to keep a straight face at the thought.
He lets the track play again, this time paying closer attention to the adjustments he's asked for. Well, he tries to, at least – his mind starts drifting without permission. For a rookie, one labeled only as a dancer and rapper, Dino's vocals were surprisingly nice. This song had been more vocal heavy in the draft, but the company had asked for a change early on. This version suits the group's concept more, they had said, but Jihoon thinks it's a shame. He would have liked to see how Dino sounded on the original version, wonders if he'd find it more challenging or if he'd take to it just as he has with this one.
"Woozi-sunbaenim? Was that alright?"
Right. The track was still playing, Jihoon's own placeholder vocals playing in his ear along with the instrumental. Dino is looking at him expectantly.
"Ah... my apologies. That take was fine, Dino-ssi. We can move on to - " Jihoon stops mid-sentence, his mind buffering. Where were they again? Where did he leave his lyrics sheet?
"Where the sun dances?" Dino tries, saving Jihoon from his own fumbling. "That's my next line, I mean."
It is. Of course. Jihoon forces himself to laugh to avoid embarrassing himself. "At this rate, you could direct yourself just fine," he jokes awkwardly.
Dino laughs, too, and Jihoon can tell from here that his chest is puffed out with pride. "Well, I have recorded a couple songs before," he supplies.
"Your own?" Jihoon asks, though he can't think of how that would be the case – Dino still has all the makings of a trainee, and Jihoon certainly wouldn't have been asked to do this job if one of their trainees was already an experienced songwriter.
"I guess you could say that?" is Dino's response, more question than statement. "They were planning on debuting me a few years ago, actually, but I got removed from the group a month before I could. Got as far as the recording booth, at least." He says it casually, shrugging his shoulders, but it makes Jihoon pause, although he isn't exactly sure why. It's not exactly an out of the ordinary situation – hell, he himself was originally meant for another group, albeit in slightly different circumstances.
More importantly, no matter how curious he is, it would be impolite to pry. That boundary, at least, he can draw.
To his credit, he manages to get through the rest of Dino's recording without zoning out or humiliating himself further. That is, if you don't count the way he'd nearly jumped out of his skin when Dino's younger members arrived, having long forgotten he still needed to record with anyone else.
--
"Ah, well, I'll get out of your hair now, Jihoon-ah. Don't stay too late, or I'll send Coups after you," Bumzu is saying as he leaves. Jihoon waves him off, but, for once, he really isn't interested in staying at the studio too late. His deadlines are all still far enough away that he could get away with leaving now.
But his mind is still restless, and he knows if he went back home it'd take forever to fall asleep with all the creative energy racing around his head. He clicks through his files — surely there's something he could be working on. There are plenty of old unfinished drafts, stray lyrics he's written down, guide recordings that still hadn't found their home in an album, but what catches his eye is Icarus's title track.
He likes it well enough as it is. Even with the high standards Jihoon's set for himself, it's reached a quality he'd normally be fine with releasing. This time, though, he finds that there's still something about it that isn't clicking.
Jihoon only tinkers with it for around twenty minutes before he sighs again and moves his keyboard out of the way to give himself space to slam his head onto his desk. Maybe he should go home now. He'll get takeout, and pet his cat, and his mind will be a thousand times clearer in the morning. Or, at least, someone else will be available in the morning for him to bounce ideas off of.
There's a knock on the studio door. Reflexively, he calls, "It's open," before his mind catches up with him and he realizes he has no idea who would be visiting at this hour.
His first theory is that Bumzu came back to get something he'd forgotten, but Bumzu wouldn't knock. It could be Soonyoung, the only person brave enough to bother Jihoon in his studio without messaging first, or Seungcheol, making good on Bumzu's earlier promise, but neither of them would knock either. Actually, most of Jihoon's members wouldn't care to respect his privacy that much, so that excludes all of them.
"Woozi-sunbaenim! I'm glad you're here so late."
Of all people, the person he finds himself looking at when he turns in his chair is Dino.
"Ah, sorry about showing up unannounced," Dino continues, bowing slightly. He seems out of breath, and his hair is wet, even though, according to Jihoon's weather app, it wasn't supposed to rain today. "I meant to come earlier, but practice ran late, and I had to fight the members to let me shower first, and now I probably owe Sungmin ten million won since I asked him to cover for me if our manager asks any questions."
Jihoon nods, not really sure if any of this is supposed to be relevant to him. "Did you have something to ask me about? I appreciate the lengths you've gone to get here, but I'm sure your manager could have just forwarded it to me."
Dino frowns. "Well, it's just... I was wondering...," Jihoon raises an eyebrow, "Would you mind if I trying recording some of my lines again? I know I already finished them, but I think I could do better."
Jihoon is well-acquainted with the perfectionism inherent to being an idol. He's used to his own members asking to rerecord their parts, but usually it's after they've gotten feedback from him. Dino had done perfectly fine the first time around, so there's really no reason for it other than to take up Jihoon's time.
"Sure, go for it," Jihoon says, despite every reason he has not to. Before Dino has the chance to get too smug, he adds, "Just don't go expecting every producer you meet to give you this kind of treatment, alright?"
"Thank you sunbaenim! I won't take up too much of your time, don't worry – unless you wanted me to, that is." He winks. Jihoon stares at him blankly until he walks into the booth.
He's just as good as he was the last time. Jihoon isn't surprised, but after the fifth take of the same line isn't a huge improvement to the one he'd already planned on using, he speaks up.
"I think we're done here, Dino-ssi."
"Huh? Why?" The sight of Dino's wide eyes through the recording booth window make Jihoon feel like he's just kicked a puppy. He looks back at his computer screen before he starts to backtrack.
"It's late. I'm sure you have a schedule tomorrow, right?"
"I do, but... sunbaenim, you're still working, right?" Jihoon hums affirmatively. "Then, let me stay until you're done working."
It would be very easy and very reasonable to say no. He wasn't planning to work this late, let alone even later. Jihoon should set a good example for his junior, teach Dino the importance of getting a good night's sleep before a schedule and not pestering producers.
"Thirty minutes," Jihoon says instead. Dino is quick to emerge from the recording booth and sit on Jihoon's couch, looking far too proud of his persuasion abilities. Jihoon turns back to his monitor and clicks around the file aimlessly for a solid minute, the lingering feeling of eyes on his back too much for him to get any real work done.
Eventually, though, he does manage to block out Dino's presence and make a few adjustments. By the time he looks at the clock again, almost an hour has passed. For a moment, he wonders if Dino's already left without him noticing, precisely at the thirty minute mark like Jihoon told him to, but the younger is still on the couch where Jihoon left him. He's lying down, now, lost in thought staring at Jihoon's ceiling, phone abandoned next to him mid-scroll. He looks comfortable there, like he belongs in the scene just as much as Jihoon does. Jihoon doesn't know what to do besides stare. If he reached out to touch -
"Aw, is my time up?" Dino asks, when he finally notices Jihoon's gaze.
Jihoon nods. "I need to head home too, you know, and you can't exactly stay here all night. Unless you want to run into Bumzu in the morning."
Dino pouts, but sits up anyways, watching Jihoon pack his things to leave. "Sunbaenim, you'll come to our concert one day, right?" he asks, suddenly.
The question is the sort of thing Jihoon's members used to ask when having concerts was still a far-away concept, and he gives the canned response their seniors used to give them – "Sure, if you invite me." (Most of them never ended up going, back then.)
"Of course. You can be our first VIP guest."
"Ah, is that so?" Jihoon laughs, ushering Dino out the door and turning off the studio lights for the night. "If that's the case, you'll have to thank me when you give your first award speech."
It's a joke, but Dino nods like he's seriously planning on it. "We'll owe all of our future success to you, Woozi-sunbaenim," he says easily. Jihoon almost drops his keys.
"I'm sure you worked hard to get here on your own, too," he mutters.
Dino doesn't say anything, just smiles fondly when Jihoon looks back at him. Jihoon doesn't know if he's been given a representative animal yet, but he hopes it's something appropriately mischievous. Jihoon wants no part in whatever his evil plans are. He looks away quickly, busies himself with making sure he'd gotten his wallet, and his phone, and the keys that were just in his hand, and his wallet again.
"Thank you again, sunbaenim," Dino says.
Jihoon nods and then, after Dino turns to leave, adds, "Thank you for your help, too."
--
ICARUS Manager Choi Seobin
I'd like to apologize for my negligence last night, Woozi-ssi, and on behalf of Dino for his irresponsible actions.
Jihoon is still half asleep when he gets the message from Icarus's manager, and he laughs despite himself. It takes considerable effort to get composed enough to write a professional response.
Lee Jihoon
No need to apologize. It was really no problem.
ICARUS Manager Choi Seobin
Thank you for your understanding, Woozi-ssi.
I've forwarded your number to Dino, at his insistence, so you'll recieve a personal apology from him as well.
Jihoon almost trips over his cat when his phone buzzes with more texts, this time from an unknown number. He makes a mental note to blame Dino for Ruby's suffering as well as his own.
ICARUS Dino
Sunbaenim, this is Dino~!
Thank you again for letting me rerecord..
Lee Jihoon
Yah, didn't your manager tell you to apologize?
ICARUS Dino
I knew it.. She already messaged you...
My sincerest apologies Woozi-sunbaenim. Itwon't happen again.
Lee Jihoon
I'm sure it won't
Do you always text so formally?
ICARUS Dino
I'm trying to be polite, Woozi-sunbaenim
Lee Jihoon
Well don't
And just call me hyung, I really don't care about that stuff
ICARUS Dino
:O Really?
Woozi-hyung~
Lee Jihoon
...If you act like that I'll take it back
ICARUS Dino
Too late
I'll brag to my members about this
Shouldn't you call me Channie too hyung?
Lee Jihoon
Not a chance
ICARUS Dino
Aw :(
Lee Jihoon
I'll think about it.
Later, if Jihoon changes his contact name from ICARUS Dino to Lee Chan, then it's no one's business but Jihoon's.