Chapter Text
Jihoon stares at the man sitting on his expensive leather chair on the other side of the table. The man only stares back at him.
Jihoon blinks his eyes, trying to process what he just heard.
"So.." Jihoon starts. "You're basically telling me to just live with it?" He finally says what's on his mind.
The man across from him folds his hand on the surface of the table, slightly leaning in. "We're talking about an actual person Jihoon not a toy"
That's not exactly what Jihoon meant, but sure.
"Why me?" Jihoon asks, the perpetual annoyed look back on his face.
"Because you have privileges other students don't."
"Then I revoke my privileges! You're basically asking me to babysit! I'll have to live with a stranger, make sure he eats, show him around school, introduce him to my friends which are very few just so he can feel comfortable. Teach him the basics of music?? What happened to only accepting the best?" He says incredulously.
"Don't use that tone on me young man. Let me just remind you that I am not only the school's director, I am also your father." Director Lee reprimands.
Jihoon groans in annoyance. He's using that father card again.
Pledis School for the Arts is dubbed as the most intimidating school in the history of arts which is funny given the school is not even 10 years old. The school only offers four 3 year courses (music production, dance, theater arts and visual arts) and there are very limited slots for each course. Only 25 freshmen students are accepted for each course so that only brings the total school population to 300 students a year making the whole learning process more concentrated, therefore making the school the best of the best. 90% of the school alumni have gone to work under big company names specializing in the arts, the rest starting up their own.
The school is open to students all over the world, that is, of course, if they pass the standards which were definitely set up really high. The promise of specialized education does come with a price though. A hefty one, one might think. But then again, the tuition fee is all inclusive. They have fully equipped functional dorms that are way better than the normal university ones, the dining hall serves buffet breakfast, lunch and dinner Mondays through Saturdays, they have shuttle services available at select times of the day for those who need to go to the town center and back to the school grounds. And most importantly, since not all geniuses can afford the tuition fees, up to five students out of 25 students per course can be on partial scholarships. This means they only have to pay 50% of the tuition fee and the other half, they make up for by working part time (8-hour shift on free days or 2hr shifts five times a week, dpending on the scholar's preference) on school grounds. It could be in the library, the school's cafe, the dining hall, or basically where ever help is needed.
The school also only hires the best mentors, those who have expertise in the courses offered. Most of them, the director personally worked with. The school is owned and run by Director Lee aka Jihoon's dad to his select few friends. Director Lee is a pioneer when it comes to Korean music. He became popular in his early days as the youngest trot singer at only twelve years old. He also learned to play different instruments, including those traditional ones and became an all-around artist even before he turned twenty. He stopped singing and focused more on the technical aspects of music when Jihoon was born thinking this would give him more time to be less of an artist and more of a father.
Jihoon, as expected turned out to be just as passionate when it comes to music as his father is. The fruit does not fall far from the tree, they say. And this one's true in the Lee's case.
Jihoon scrunches is forehead, thinking hard. There is something off with this whole situation and he is dead keen on getting into the bottom of it.
"What exactly happened dad? Why am I being forced to live with another human when we have student dorms? How bad is this freshman that I have to teach him when we have teachers who do the teaching?" He taunted.
Director Lee heaves out a long sigh. He closes his eyes, massaging his temples.
"There's been a clerical mistake." He answers.
Jihoon scoffs. "A clerical mistake? Did you fire her yet?"
Jihoon's dad heaves out another sigh, stress lines making their appearance on his forehead. Jihoon took pity on him and decided to stop giving his old man a hard time.
"Dad you gotta tell me what's the deal here why do I need to mentor someone who's supposed to be good enough to make the cut?"
"Because we overlooked the applications.. now we have one more student that our dorms cannot accommodate. You know how much these kids' parents are paying us for a comfortable living situation too."
Jihoon gawks at his father for a short while. Cogs on his brain turning.
"So you decided to make me uncomfortable instead?" Jihoon asks. Utter disbelief clear on his face.
"You're not paying for anything!"
"I'm your only child! " Jihoon whines, arms flailing. "Dad you know how I am with strangers. And again, you're not only asking me to live with a stranger, you're asking me to live with a stranger. Do everything with a stranger. Eat with a stranger. Study with a stranger whose supposed to be in a dance program? Why am I teaching music to a dance major?"
Director Lee takes another deep breath. "Son, can't you just do this for me? It's not that bad. Your room is bigger than our dorms. We can put two more beds in there and yet I'm only putting one more."
Jihoon shakes his head slowly. "Why can't you just call him up and tell him there's been a mistake and there's no more room for him? I mean, literally and figuratively. Now there are 26 freshmen in dance when there's supposed to be only 25? " He points out.
"Because he's already here. Has been for the last year, waiting. I can't just send him back after already waiting for so long."
Jihoon rolls his eyes. "Everybody's been waiting dad. What makes him so special?"
"What makes him special is he did not come to us. We came to him."
Jihoon scoffs, shaking his head.
"Wow. That clerical mistake just had to happen to someone you actually scouted which brings me back to the question earlier. Has she been fired yet?" Jihoon finds the situation more amusing now than annoying.
"And also, why is a dance major going to learn the basics of music production? And why am I, a student, teaching him the basics? We have teachers for that."
Director Lee breathes a sigh of relief. The change in his son's tone made him relax a bit.
"No. Mrs. Lee, your mother hasn't been fired. And yes, we have teachers for that but I cannot take their time away from their classes and their families on weekends."
"So you're taking my time away?!" Jihoon complains.
"Jihoon, you have time! Tons of it! You already took most of the classes you're supposed to take this year despite me not agreeing to it!" Director Lee rebuts.
"Well it's not like I can use that time to teach him the basics. He'll have his own classes during those times." He answers nonchalantly.
"That's why he's staying with you. You can teach him after class." His dad says just as nonchalant.
"Dad I need my sleep." Jihoon says doing his best to calm himself down.
"Sleep during classes. I don't care."
Jihoon glares at his dad but soon accepting defeat. He can never win against his old man. He knows how similar they are. But he still cannot believe his dad just said that. Isn't he supposed to be discouraging sleeping in class? But then again, Jihoon is a very special student.
Jihoon closes his eyes a bit, willing the impending headache to go away.
But he's a dance major. His very helpful brain nags at him.
"He's a dance major. Why does he need to know the basics of music production? Is this an experiment? Does he know you're making him a lab rat?"
Director Lee lets out the breath he's been holding. He leans over, flipping open his laptop sitting on his table. He then turns it so it's now facing his son and hits play.
Jihoon watches as the boy on the screen dances to somehing contemporary, his movements fluid, lines perfect, not even 20 seconds later he's watching the same boy wearing different clothes with a different background dancing to a pop song with just as much passion, isolations on point, poppin' and lockin' like there's no tomorrow then doing the freaking tricks. His lithe body makes him look like he's literally flying with every spin and flip he makes. Jihoon could definitely see why his dad would want him on board. In the 9 years that the school has been opened, there were only seven people who were personally invited into their institution on full scholarship. And as if what he's seen so far is not enough, the video cuts and a beat later, the same boy is back playing the piano. His long fingers flying across the keys. Jihoon's forehead scrunches trying to figure out what this piece he's playing.
"It's not something you've heard before, son."
Jihoon looks up at his father, mouth open.
"Is it..."
"Yes. It's something he just came up with. Now, to answer your question.." Director Lee leans in, folding his hands back up on the table, "I need you to teach him the basics of notes. He only plays by ear."
A musical genius. That's what he is.