Park

@Jennie Kim The knock on the door hadn't piqued Wonshik's interest just yet, his position unchanging. His Dr. Martens tapped on the dusty floor as he hummed a melody, drawing the notes on his paper as he heard the high pitched creaking of the opening studio door. It was a soft female voice that broke his train of thoughts and had him looking up, face straight and a lighted cigarette between the first and middle finger of his left hand. He brought the cigarette up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the as he mumbled almost incomprehensible around the thin stick: "yeah, sure." before taking a long drag, allowing the fume to fill his lungs.

Wonshik was about to get back to work, putting out his cigarette on the wooden table with little care, when he was spoken to once more. His lips were slightly parted, allowing the smoke to lazily escape his mouth, as he leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms over his ribs. The female had a very interesting voice. He had seen her a few times before; the dark brown straight hair and round face not easily forgotten. But this was the first time he heard her speaking. To be honest, it interested him to the point he locked his eyes on the young woman, her appearance not one like the usual ones. Beneath the few dried layers of clay and dust covering parts of her skin, there was a gorgeous girl. But Wonshik had to admit the clay doubled his interest.

"Thank you," The dark-haired male said, breathing out the rest of the smoke, "no I'm not signed. Wouldn't want to be." He casually stated, getting up from his seat with his paper in hand. He pushed his chair underneath the small table and circled it so he could sit in front of an old keyboard, dust forming on the buds that obviously weren't being used a lot. "I do concerts though." He then added, positioning the piece of paper, messily inked with words and notes, on top of the piano. He wiped his fingers on his leather jeans and comfortably spread his legs, sitting up straight before taking another look at the other figure in the room. "What about you? What're you making in there?" Wonshik motioned his head towards the second room, the 'clay room'.

@Kim Wonshik Jennie was working on a very large sculpture about equal height as herself. She had spent all of her morning off and into the now afternoon trying to secure the main expression and hold of her creature, before she would have to let it dry a big, push and sand the uneven everything, and then let it sit to dry. Her baggy overalls and white mess of a shirt she reserved specifically for heavy duty work were covered in silvery white clay (so one could say it's not exactly white, but a fabric sheet holding at least 2 coats of solidified ink and oil, ontop of the sweat). Sculptures were the most messy, especially this one because she had to do so much editing and forcing of the clay. Most of her arms and neck were covered with clay dust and streaking. She, like her art, was the embodied canvas.

The brunette with the high bun took a step back, tilting her head to either side to loosen up her stiff neck while also check out her progress. Her arms felt burny and like jello, and it only made her clench her jaw in annoyance when she saw the piece still had shaping to the left needing to be pulled out farther because she had messed up the initial base section, believing it wasn't gonna hold. She cracked her wrists against her sides, shaking out her hardening fingers as she did a couple jumping jacks.

And just like that, her playlist of nature sounds and rain ended on the speaker.

She had praised the fact she was able to find a Youtube video that went on for 7 hours, but now that it was over, all the stresses and noises of the real world (not her zone land) came flooding back into her tired mind. "So your carefully applied makeup can smudge, Leave it alone, you're beautiful, oh oh~" There was a distinct voice coming from the opposite studio room, husky and smooth, rapping in a almost melodic way. Jennie was struck and paused herself to listen closer to his words.

"Even if...your crisp..." she heard him hesitating on words, and figured it was due to him composing. She smiled and did some shoulder rolls, moving closer to the wall to here him better while she stretched.

"Even if your crisp shirt gets all wrinkled, It's alright, look straight at me, eh eh yeah." Oh yeah, whoever this man was, he had quiet the smooth, y voice that could put baby's to sleep. Jennie smiled, really seriously thinking about going over there and telling him he was doing a fantastic job (while also having an excuse to check out his appearance) and she began looking around the room for a plausible excuse to interrupt him, as she didn't want the risk of him getting irritated with her messing with his flow (if his ego was as big as his sound). The clay girl spotted her bucket of waste clay, and the light bulb struck.

She knocked on the studio door before entering, caring the heavy bucket of grey mush around one arm, and slowly opened and peeked her face inside. "Hello?" she called, immediately spotting the smoking gentlemen sitting by a keyboard, with pencil and paper in hand, his raven bangs slightly shading his forehead and eyes. Jennie bowed once to be polite as she entered the room fully. "Sorry, just gonna borrow the sink in here, the clay room's is clogged." That was a partial truth, the sink was a mess and she needed to be careful, but technically she still could've cleaned and used that one. She gave the mysterious stranger a warm smile and moved along to the sink on the back wall of the room, hoisting the heavy thing up onto the counter, and then began adjusting the sink head so she could fit the bucket under it. Her cheeks warmed a bit as she tried to think of a good way to compliment him without seeming stalkery. She needed to talk fast-

"Your rapping is really smooth." she looked over her shoulder toward him, giving him a thumbs up. "I really love your lyrics. Are you signed to a label?"

@Jennie Kim "So your carefully applied makeup can smudge
Leave it alone, you’re beautiful, oh oh
Even if your T-shirt gets..."

The mumbled rapping stopped when Wonshik leaned forward and scribbled some new words on his paper. He sat cross-legged at a small wooden table in the corner of the art studio. Even though the room was a colorful mess and the vending machine had broken down, the tall male loved sitting in between the unfinished pieces of art because there was no one here who'd recognize him nor give him questionable glances. He was able to down himself completely into his fantasies and do what he loved to do most: write music.

"Even if your... crisp shirt..."

His voice was soft and husky, trying to keep his tone down for no particular reason. As of this moment, there was no one else present. But even if there was, they wouldn't have minded. Everyone was always minding their own business. And as long as no one was blasting music through the boxes, Wonshik could not care any less about what stuff everyone else was up to - if there was anyone in the studio at all. Most of the time this space was empty, to the point Wonshik wondered if I'd be broken down one of these days.

"Even if your crisp shirt gets all wrinkled
It’s alright, look straight at me, eh eh yeah"

With a nod of his head, the raven-haired male wrote down the last sentence, satisfied with his work.