Choi Beomgyu Has Hated You Since Your Fifth Grade Music Class When You Outperformed Everyone With Your

choi beomgyu has hated you since your fifth grade music class when you outperformed everyone with your bright red recorder, but you never knew the reason why. almost fifteen years later, you end up as members of the same world-renowned orchestra which forces both of you to face the music - about yourselves, your feelings, and quite literally, the music you play.

.: 10.6k words .:. drummer beomgyu x flutist female reader .:. fluff, angst, musician au :.

.: tw: depictions of colorblindness, depictions of hearing loss, mature language, alcohol consumption, tipsy driving (legally sober), smoking :.

.: masterlist :.

You are a lot of things.

To your parents, you are the golden child; intelligent, beautiful, charming - and they love bragging about it. To your friends, you are the mom friend; empathetic, generous, humorous - and they love being with you for it. To your mentors, you are the model student; respectful, responsible, persevering - and they love berating other students for it.

To Choi Beomgyu, you are the devil’s spawn; prideful, irritable, punchable - and he has no plans of changing his mind.

Or rather, he had no plans to change his mind.

His hatred for anything and everything related to you dates back to the fifth grade, when you’d first transferred into his elementary school. At first, you two were simply classmates, as you were simply the new girl in town, and when you’re nine years old, those things don’t really matter. Priorities for a young boy such as he was back then laid in Sunday morning cartoons and building lego models.

This was the calm before the storm.

The storm began in the music room on a Wednesday afternoon, the last class of the day in which every student was given a recorder.

Beomgyu, ever the competitive soul, had already spent all of summer break practicing ‘Hot Cross Buns’ on his older brother’s recorder and was excited to share his superior musical talents with his peers and their music teacher. He’d always been more inclined towards rhythm and music as a child, so even when no one else in his family was really a musician, young little Beomgyu found himself much more determined to impress.

After playing his three-note piece, the applause that filled his ears was addicting, awed faces on his thirty-person fifth-grade audience.

Except for one.

The quiet new girl from worlds away looked bored.

You looked bored.

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