The Trouble

by Daria Defore

Jiyoon pursed his lips as he reflected on what was no doubt a laundry list of dumb shit Danny had said. "What, get drunk?"

  "No! I mean, short-term, sure. Too bad they don't serve beer here. Or do you not drink on school nights?" He asked, when Jiyoon made a face.

  Jiyoon picked up a fry, like he wanted to throw it at him. "No. I was thinking the same thing."

  "Oh." Danny reddened. "My bad. I thought you were being judgy."

  "I'm not a complete social lost cause." Jiyoon nibbled on the fry instead.

  "Yeah, but I am. Do they offer classes on taking your foot out of your mouth?"

  "That's not my area of expertise." Jiyoon leaned his elbows on the table. "So what are you studying?"

  "Uh, officially I'm a comparative lit major, but I'm really at UW just to be in Seattle, you know?"

  "What about after?"

  Danny grinned. "I've kinda got this starving-artist thing going on, if you haven't noticed. It's pretty sweet."

  "Ah, the band."

  "Yeah, the band. That thing."

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound patronizing—"

  "You're not. You're a skeptic."

  "A little," Jiyoon admitted. "I know you work hard, it's just…"

  "Unrealistic?"

  "Yes."

  "Look at it this way, though. I'm only twenty-two years old. I've got all this time to fuck around, and do what I want. If it doesn't work out, I've got the rest of my life to deal with it."

  "That's not time you want to use to get ahead? To think about what you could do once you have a stable career and disposable income?"

  Danny slurped at his milkshake as he thought about it. "I mean, I guess… I guess I'd want to be traveling and playing music. And if I have a chance to do that now, I want to take it." Jiyoon was looking kind of dour, so Danny squeezed his arm. "It's not like you have to worry about me, though. Besides, I might be getting a record deal."

  "What?"

  "Yeah, I didn't tell you yet! We signed a thing with Doubletime Records last week. It's not a record deal yet, but they're gonna try to get us some more paying shows."

  "Oh." Jiyoon raised his eyebrows. "You weren't getting paid before?"

  "I mean, we usually get paid enough for transportation, but it's not really a for profit kinda thing."

  "So you're giving away for your labor for free?"

  "What—no! Look, I don't know how to explain music to you in a way that doesn't involve capitalism."

  "I believe signing a contract brings capitalism into it."

  "Okay, okay, so we're part of the capitalist machine now. It's inked and final. And I know you don't approve—"

  "It's not that I don't approve!" Jiyoon rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. I know how exciting that must be for you. And I think it's well deserved."

  "But."

  "But… I don't know. I've never met someone who was seriously pursuing that sort of career. I'm not sure how it goes, that’s all. But I'm happy for you. I'm glad it's going well."

  "Thanks." Danny leaned in close. "And don't worry, I'm not gonna end up on the streets or anything. I've got this under control." He raised his milkshake, and after a moment's hesitation, Jiyoon tapped his own against it. The corners of his mouth were lifted again.

  "Cheers to you and The Trouble."

  "And to you and success."

  Jiyoon rolled his eyes. "It's not glamorous."

  "As long as it's what you wanna be doing, I think that's cool. That much school would drive me crazy, though." Danny snagged the last fry. "So what are you planning to do with all that disposable income?"

  "I was thinking I'd find some struggling indie rock band to fund," Jiyoon said with a wicked smile.

  "Wow, what a coincidence. I've been hearing awesome things about this one group called The Trouble."

  "Oh, I've heard of them. Their lead singer is slightly talented."

  Danny bit back a grin. "He'd be pretty lucky to have someone like you supporting him."

  "Do you think he would settle for another side of fries?"

  "Oh yeah, definitely. He's pretty easy to please."

  When they left the restaurant, Danny called an Uber to take them back to the U District and waited while Jiyoon tapped in the key code to his apartment. The door beeped, and Jiyoon swung it open, then paused to look at Danny.

  "Well…"

  "See you in class?"

  "Eight a.m. Bright and early." Jiyoon smiled. "Good night."

  Chapter Eight

  Bright and early classes were only made slightly better by Jiyoon's diminished antagonism toward Danny. It was still accounting, after all, and it was still school. But when he wasn't in class (or in group, soaking up Jiyoon's tutoring), Danny tried to occupy one of the practice rooms with every extra moment.

  There was one in particular in the basement of the music building that was rarely taken. Danny lurked there doing homework, practicing chords, writing lyrics, and planning song arrangements. He and the rest of the band orbited around that room, their second home base.

  Their dedication was fueled by the fact that Erika was a woman of her word. She had set it up so that they would open for a band called Apocalypse How the next week. The crowd was going to be twice the size of any that had ever shown up for one of their shows, and The Trouble was getting a fat paycheck. Danny was euphoric.

  So euphoric that he managed to miss study group one day, or at least, he mostly missed it—he was dicking around in the music room, and by the time he looked at the clock it was way too late to imagine walking in and suffering Jiyoon's withering stare.

  Soon he didn't have to imagine it, though, because there was a knock on the door and then Jiyoon poked his head in. Danny's fingers made an embarrassing twang on the guitar strings.

  "Hey, there…"

  "Well, there you are." Jiyoon shut the door behind him and sighed. "First of all, don't make fun of me."

  "Whatever, Dad."

  "Second of all, why didn't you come to group today?" Jiyoon was unflappable. He stood in front of Danny, arms crossed, with one eyebrow cocked. Danny felt an inexplicable desire to kneel.

  He strummed a chord instead. "I was practicing. Lost track of time. 'M sorry," he added belatedly.

  "I could've guessed as much." Jiyoon sat down next to him, legs crossed and hands laced together in his lap. "Danny, I know you don't like this class, but I would really like you to pass it."

  Suddenly, Danny felt awful for disappointing him. "I know, and you're awesome. You're better than Weaver, but—"

  "Flattery gets you nowhere."

  "I'm serious! I'm really sorry. I just lost track of time, and I knew you'd be pissed at me."

  "Well, you didn't show up and here I am, still pissed."

  "Yeah…"

  "Do you have your work on you, at least?"

  Danny put the guitar down and pulled out his accounting worksheets, which Jiyoon glanced over with a critical frown. Then he looked at his watch and sighed.

  "What?"

  "Did you have dinner plans?" Jiyoon flipped through the papers as he spoke, his tone light.

  Danny grinned. "Why are you asking?"

  "Curiosity." Jiyoon raised his gaze and gave Danny a nearly flat smile. "Are you hungry?"

  "You're not offering to do my homework for me over dinner, are you?"

  "No, I'm offering to watch you do your homework while I enjoy a meal." Jiyoon stood up and handed the papers back. "Would you like to come over?"

  "Isn't that illegal?" Danny joked.

  "Well, I'm not planning on fucking you." At the careless, casual use of the word fuck, the back of Danny's neck prickled. Even Jiyoon was blushing, as if surprised it had come out of him. He cleared his throat. "But. If I help you outside of group, it should probably stay between us. And your roommates, I suppose."

  That was how Danny discovered that Jiyoon wasn't half-bad as a cook. He made Danny sit at the small, neat table in his apartment and work through the problems aloud while he whipp
ed up a pasta that Jiyoon insisted looked more complicated than it actually was.

  They took a dinner break, and then Jiyoon leaned at his side while Danny finished the last few problems on the worksheet. Danny promptly collapsed face-first on the table with a groan when they were done.

  "I'm free."

  "Hmm." Jiyoon picked up the worksheet and mouthed numbers to himself as he went down the list of problems. Then he sighed. "Danny, take another look at number six…"

  "What? But I—" He stopped as he saw Jiyoon's solemn face crack into the barest hint of smile.

  "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. You looked so desperate."

  "Asshole!" Danny spun around to face him. Jiyoon was laughing behind his hand. "Oh, you're lucky I'm so damn nice. What do I owe you?"

  "I make fifteen dollars an hour, usually."

  "You accept payment in song, right?"

  "Under no circumstances. But you can help me with the dishes." Jiyoon shot him a grin and whisked their empty plates away to the sink.

  Jiyoon was up to his elbows in soapy water, and Danny dried the plates, pots, pans, and silverware, watching the arch of Jiyoon's neck as he bent over the sink. The droplets of water dragged down his forearms, just under where his shirtsleeves were pushed up. It was comfortable. Something about this fit.

  They ended up perpendicular on the bed, because Jiyoon didn't have a couch and it was the only proper place to sit and watch the dinky TV Jiyoon had set up on a shelf. Jiyoon had found out that he'd never seen Friday Night Lights, and insisted that he needed to at least watch the pilot.

  "It’s about football," Danny whined. "That's the least punk rock thing ever."

  "What happened to getting outside your comfort zone?"

  "That was about music." Still, he stayed and let Jiyoon rearrange ten pillows on the wall behind them. "Maybe next time we watch a movie we can do it at my place. We've got this thing called a couch."

  "One couch for your whole band plus me?"

  "I'll kick them out."

  "That's a good way to make enemies." Jiyoon settled into pillow pile, and Danny self-consciously reclined next to him. "How long have you been together?"

  "Uh, three years total? We met Lei and Vick at school. They're both sophomores."

  "Oh, so they're declaring their majors soon."

  Danny hadn't really thought about it. "Sure, I guess. And Sam and I've known each other since we were kids."

  "That long?"

  "Yeah, you should've seen how many shitty bands we started in middle school. Oh man. If things had gone differently, I would totally be in a metal band."

  "I didn't realize how lucky I am," Jiyoon said, and Danny scoffed and elbowed him. "What stopped you?"

  "Uhh, let's just say my parents feel the same way about metal that you do, and they started buying me literally any other CDs."

  "So I owe them."

  Danny laughed. "Thanks, Mom and Dad, for getting me into slightly more marketable music."

  "You do think about that kind of thing." Jiyoon was giving him a smile that Danny couldn't quite place. What it meant Danny never found out, because the next scene was important. "Oh, here, pay attention—"

  Danny was dimly aware of Jiyoon turning the lights off at some point. His head fell onto Jiyoon's shoulder and his eyes sagged closed. Then he drooled and shot awake again, muttering apologies. There was Jiyoon's light laughter again, and Jiyoon saying, "It's okay," which meant, what? That Danny could drool on him as much as he wanted?

  He settled for curling up at the far side of the bed while Jiyoon was in the bathroom, and shut his eyes while he waited for Jiyoon to kick him out.

  Danny woke up fully clothed, with the sun streaming yellow through the window, and the nape of Jiyoon's neck a hand's length from his face, and he thought, this is nice.

  Chapter Nine

  Danny walked into his apartment like a man going to the gallows.

  "Look who it is!" Lei was sprawled on the couch, playing a game on his 3DS, and he crowed as soon as Danny walked in.

  "Yeah, surprise, it's me. Your legal adult friend who doesn't have a curfew."

  "No curfew, but you sure didn't tell Sam you weren't gonna be around to go over chords with her after all."

  "Fuck." Danny had completely forgotten they were going to practice together. "I'm a shit friend."

  "She's not that mad."

  "Just mildly annoyed." Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Don't worry, I got on fine without you."

  "I'm really sorry, Sam." Danny dropped his backpack and flopped down on Lei's legs. "I keep letting people down."

  He told them about missing study group and the ensuing movie night, which had both Sam and Lei expressing varying degrees of disapproval. Sam was mostly upset that Danny had finished the homework already and was basically guaranteed a good grade on it.

  Lei, on the other hand, just wanted to rib him about not getting laid. Which Danny firmly insisted was never on the table anyway.

  "You told me he was a hard-ass, Danny," Sam said.

  "I don't think that's what he said about his—ow!" Lei yelped as he was on the receiving end of a smack from Sam.

  "He has a great ass, but that's not the point." Danny dragged his hands through his hair. "He's also a really good cook—ow!" It was Lei's turn to lash out, kicking Danny in the ribs.

  "I don't wanna hear about how your hot new friend cooked dinner and did all your homework!" Lei shoved him off finally, and skipped away. "I’m going to the library."

  "What?" Danny shot upright. "Don't we have practice today, too?"

  Lei was already dragging on his shoes. "Yeah, well, you skip one, I skip one. I've got a poli-sci test next week."

  "Technically I didn't skip, I forgot."

  "Same thing." Lei had the decency to look at least a bit remorseful. "Look, I'm sorry but I've gotta go."

  Danny swallowed his complaint, feeling guilty and annoyed. It was his fault for setting a bad example, but it was still pretty crappy. After Lei had skipped out the door, Danny turned to Sam with a wounded expression.

  "I'm sorry I ditched you."

  "You’ve never been good at time management," Sam said. Then her expression shifted into something nearly resembling guilt. "But… I'll forgive you if we can go over that assignment."

  It might not technically have counted as cheating, because Sam made Danny explain to her how he came by all the answers. Danny managed to squeak out a victory there, and Sam looked a little less annoyed.

  "All right. So he's not just feeding you the right responses."

  "And what's this?" Danny gestured to the scattering of his and Sam's worksheets on the table. "Am I not feeding you answers right now?"

  "Just keeping you honest," Sam said, only looking a little shifty.

  "Right. You know, he, uh, he told me I could come back and study with him. Whenever."

  Sam raised her head and looked at him for a long moment. "Interesting. He's warming up to you, then?"

  "I guess." Danny poked at the pages on the table, then sat back with a huff. "It's weirdly chill to be around him, you know?"

  "Not really," Sam said drily.

  "Okay, I mean… there's no pressure. Like sometimes when I'm hanging out with someone and flirting and all that, it feels like there's this weird expectation."

  "I might know what that's like, yes."

  "I'm not talking about sex! Even after sleeping together and the whole TA fiasco, it's… I'm comfortable. Like with you, but he's way cuter."

  "Daniel Kim, you take it back," Sam said in Danny's mother's voice, and in Korean no less. Danny grinned, though he did instinctively straighten up. "You know, most platonic friends don't have sleepovers like that. In tiny twin beds," Sam said, switching back to English.

  "Yeah, that really freaked your parents out." Both of them blanched a little at the memory. "But that's not the point. Don't get me wrong, I'm aro as hell, but I think… I think if he asked me out I'd totally go for it."

&nb
sp; "Shit," Sam said.

  "Yeah, what the hell." Danny scrunched up his face. "I think I really like him."

  After that, Danny became a lot more useful in their homework sessions, although he still groaned and grumbled—and in the end, he and Sam were sometimes too busy with the band to get everything finished. Especially when Jiyoon wasn't around to explain things. Midterms were fast approaching and Danny was sure that fall quarter was trying to squeeze the life right out of him. Despite the full class load he was taking, he still found himself devoting more time to accounting than either of the other credit-fillers he was taking.

  Part of his routine, a couple times a week, was to meet Jiyoon outside the Foster School of Business and walk the few blocks to his apartment. Sometimes they would stay in and do homework, and sometimes after taking a cursory glance at the assignment, Jiyoon would declare that they could slack off. Sometimes he dragged Danny to movies and obscure plays that he found in the school listings, and sometimes Danny got to bring him to open mic night in return. If they were staying out late, they usually had dinner and a couple drinks, too.

  But with midterms to study for, this wasn't going to be one of those nights.

  "Welcome to prison," Jiyoon said, opening the door to his apartment.

  "School is a prison." Danny dropped his backpack on the floor with a thud and kicked off his shoes. "Your apartment is just… purgatory."

  "Mixed metaphors."

  "Whatever. Life is hell."

  Jiyoon let out a dry laugh as he arrayed his own books and papers on the table. The size of the stack made Danny's brain hurt, and he felt a little guilty. Here he was struggling with undergrad, and Jiyoon had a workload twice as hard.

  Danny made himself a promise not to be a weak-ass little piece of shit tonight and went to pour himself a glass of water. He stopped dead as he reached for the faucet. There was definitely a large purple vibrator sitting in the dish rack by the sink.

  He stared it down, heat flushing his face.

  "Did you say something?" Jiyoon asked, over the rustling of papers.

  "Did I?"

  "You tell me. It didn't sound like any language I know." Jiyoon raised an eyebrow at him.

  "It's just that…" Danny raised both his hands impotently and stepped aside. "I think there's a vibrator in your dish rack, so like, is that supposed to go somewhere?"