Hindrance

Steady Rise

Most of the songs they had sung together as a group often suited the girls more than them. His own high register could easily keep up with the young girls, but Darren noticed JK was having a little difficulty finding the right key. After all, he was the only one that could supply the much-needed deep notes in the already high note quartet.

He nudged him.

"JK."

"Yeah?" he asked, snapping out of his daze.

"You should try to sing along..." he suggested, trying to catch his eyes so transfixed on his feet.

"I know, I'm just-" he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Hey, hey," he cooed, settling a hand on JK's knee, "we've still got time to figure things out," he finished.

"Sorry, my voice­-"

"Yeah, it's gotten deeper. Way deeper," he emphasized.

"I feel like such a burden to you guys," he admitted, a mask of frustration plastered on his face.

"JK. We'd sound so monotonous if we didn't have you," he stressed.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better..." he trailed off.

"Look at me."

JK succumbed and stared back, unconvinced as can be.

"Your voice is changing, but without you, it just wouldn't be the same," he pressed.

A small smile crept on his face and he struggled to repress it, but Darren saw it clearly with both of his eyes.

"I almost believe you," he said in between chuckles.

"I mean it!" he snapped, mildly hurt that JK thought it was a fib.

He did mean it.

------

"Darren is a good singer." is probably the biggest insult JK could think of.

He wasn't a good singer, no. That was an understatement. To label him as merely that repulsed JK to the core, unable to fathom how anyone's vocabulary could be that limited. His voice can move hearts, make people dance, make everyone watch and listen in awe.

He was tremendous. He was formidable. He was a force to be reckoned with. On the stage, he was a monster, they said, and he couldn't agree more. Technique, skill, emotion, and character; he had it all.

His voice had moved him, made him dance, and made him watch and listen in awe. So when anyone has the gall to reduce Darren to simply being good, he feels mildly violated.

------

Three hours.

He was three hours too early. Rehearsals wouldn't start until ten but here he was dressed and raring to go. Sleep hadn't been the kindest friend as of late. One would think late nights warranted late mornings as well. But not for him. Something had been keeping him up.

His hands grew clammy as he clutched the phone in his hand, tormented by the pull of two opposing forces in his head - does he wait, or does he call?

Before his mind could process anything, the phone's gentle ringing echoed in his ear. He could still end it, pass it off as a miscall. He could say it was an accident.

"Mmhmm, hello?"

Too late.

"JK!" he squeaked out a little too excitedly.