“This is Bang Yong Guk, stage name, Jepp Blackman.”

The workers at Parcosm were called for the routine introduction, where if a new performance was to be staged in our humble musical bar, the artist was always greeted and introduced.

The guy bent his frame and nodded his head a little, a shy smile peeking from the shadow of his cap. His lips still glistened with water he’d missed to wipe after coming down from stage, taking off the hoodie to show his white, printed tee.

“Nice to meet you.” He said.

Maik (pronounced Mike) the tech man of the joint, slapped Yong guk on the back and heartily chuckled, his goatee tickling the bottom of his wrinkled mouth. “Now this is what the underground music industry should be. Talent, right here I tell you.” His other arm was coiling music equipment and microphone plugs – what not.

Yong guk shrunk back a little, shaking his head and refusing to accept the compliment.

“How’d you get your voice so deep anyway?”  HeeSung, the bar man with piercing all up his ears looked to the newcomer as he polished his beer glasses – just as pedantic about hygiene with his own glasses, sitting neatly atop his head.

Bang looked around as if trying to pluck an answer from his surroundings. “It was always been this deep. I guess…” he trailed off.

Jinhee, the owner of the place, and Kole’s elder and only sister looked up from heaving crates of records and grinned broadly. “Stop pestering the kid. That voice’ll be his signature one day,” she commented and walked her brisk gait, weaving through the tables, red-dyed hair ablaze and messed up in her bandana.  “Back to work ladies. We’re closing up soon.”

A chorus of “Neh” filled the room and you returned to putting chairs on tables and sweeping up discarded wristbands and tickets, as well as other trash from the floor. The newbie thanked everyone for their hard work as he received his pay for the day from ticket sales. It’d been a while since we could actually afford to give the performers their due. Yongguk then offered to help Maik pack up equipment and the techie, aged mid-30 struck a chord with the new artist and the two began chatting like old pals.

“Hey, Ren. You walking?” Kole looked up from his organiser in the ticket booth at the entrance of the bar, counting the day’s efforts and managing future performances. The small space was littered with Indie art stamped band posters and a weird clock.

“Yup.” You pulled off a sticker from the bottom of your converse and pinched it into a ball out of habit.

“Want your oppa to walk you to the bus?” He cocked his head to the side in an attempt to look cute and you scoffed.

“Nah, I’m fine. How many times do I have to remind you? The bus stop is only a few blocks away.” You’d practically known the guy since you were both kids. Plus, he was the one that offered you the job, even though your strict high school forbade any student for working as they claimed it would clash with their studies. You disproved that claim and in fact did very well at school.

“I’m walking that way. I can take her.”

You turned around slowly and the two of you stopped your banter to look at owner of the husky voice that spoke.

Yongguk had put his hoodie back on except the hood was not covering his head; his hands were stuffed in the pockets.

“Uhh… If you’re walking that way, sure….” Kole glanced through the glass and you shot him a look. Sure, this guy was good at rapping and whatever, but you barely knew him.

Getting your dirty look, Kole grinned. “Plus, Ren’s afraid of the dark… and grasshoppers and nuns and cold showers-”

“I am so not afraid of nuns!” you retorted.

“Don’t worry honey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Kole tutted and then, smiling like an idiot, he pulled down the metal cover over the glass of the booth which ended the conversation. “Thanks bra in advance. That’d be great!” He called through the ticket cubicle. You imagined him to be swinging on the chair, making all the posters fly.

“So uuhh… you don’t mind me offering right? I just thought, when I heard you were taking the bus, it’d be weird if I just followed you without saying anything – cos we’re walking the same way.”

Smiling hesitantly at him, you nodded. “I gotcha.” You in a breath through your teeth. “Just let me get my bag.” Yongguk gestured a mix between a nod and a shrug.

Running into the workers’ room, you pulled out your backpack and jumper from your assigned pigeon-hole. HeeSung was already in there, getting his stuff; he took off his glasses as he slipped his jumper on over his head.

“Late night again, Kid” He smiled. “Don’t work too hard. You got your academia to look after.”

“Bills come first. But I bet university’s just as tough. Thesis of economics right?” You rattled through the contents of your bag to look for your bus card, wallet and to slip off your lanyard.

The guy then began to rattle off his hypothesis on the global financial crisis and all this jargon about money and the international monetary fund. He stopped his enthusiasm when he noticed that you weren’t really listening, standing there smiling at him like an idiot.

“Thanks for the hard work.” He concluded and you slapped him lightly on the arm.

“Thanks for the hard work,” you returned and said, “Good night Bro,” before leaving the room.

“Get home safe.” He called as he straightened his glasses after tucking the ends of the sweater over his jeans.

You said your farewells to Jinhee who checked shift times with you and Maik, who was already walking out the door to his motorbike, and then strolled to the entrance, near the bottom of the stairs where Yongguk was waiting, one leg propped up behind him against the wall.

“Ready?”

Breathless, not from anything in particular, you nodded and the two of you ascended to the ground above, together.