Glimpse of Us

The warm, golden light of the late afternoon poured through the windows, casting a peaceful glow over the living room. Byun Baekhyun sat back against the couch, his legs stretched out before him, the quiet hum of the city outside barely reaching his ears. His heart was full, watching his son, Park Byul, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him, guitar in hand.

Byul’s small fingers, still soft and youthful, strummed gently across the strings of an acoustic guitar, producing a melody that seemed to float in the air between them. Baekhyun couldn’t help but smile, his gaze fixed on the boy who was so much like his father.

Byul’s face was focused, his dark eyes full of determination as he played the melody he had been practicing for weeks. His father, Park Chanyeol, had always been a musical force—his deep, rich voice and prodigious talent with instruments a legacy he had passed on to his son. But it was Byul’s connection to the music that had Baekhyun so captivated. It was as though the boy had inherited more than just Chanyeol’s talent; he had also inherited his heart, his spirit.

“Your hands are getting faster,” Baekhyun remarked softly, his voice breaking the calm silence between them.

Byul glanced up at his father, a shy smile forming on his lips. “I want to play just like Dad. I want to make him proud.” He strummed the guitar again, the sound ringing through the room.

Baekhyun chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Byul’s hair. “You already make him proud, Byul. But you know, your dad’s dream wasn’t always to be the biggest star. He just loved music, always. The dream was never about fame—it was about sharing his love for music with others.”

Byul’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “So, it’s okay if I don’t become famous?”

Baekhyun’s heart swelled, the words coming easily. “Of course. Fame is just a bonus. The most important thing is that you find joy in the music, just like your dad did. That’s how he found his way.”

Byul nodded thoughtfully, his fingers pausing on the guitar strings for just a moment, before continuing the melody. The sound filled the room, soft but clear, as Baekhyun closed his eyes and listened.

For a moment, it felt as though time had stopped. The world outside, with its noise and rush, didn’t matter. It was just the two of them, father and son, sharing something so intimate and profound—music, the thread that connected their hearts.

Baekhyun thought back to when he and Chanyeol first met. The late-night jam sessions in his or the taller’s house, laughing over bad lyrics and strumming guitars until their fingers ached. Music had always been the language they spoke, the one thing they could always count on, even when the world around them was uncertain. Their love for each other had blossomed through those melodies, and now, here was their son, carrying the same spark.

“You know,” Baekhyun said, his voice low and tender, “your dad used to sit just like you, strumming his guitar, dreaming of being on stage. But what made him stand out wasn’t just his talent—it was his heart. He never stopped believing in his music. And that’s something I want you to remember, Byul. It’s not about how fast you can play or how perfect you sound. It’s about playing with everything you’ve got—your heart, your soul.”

Byul’s eyes widened, understanding washing over him. He stopped playing again, setting the guitar aside for a moment to look up at his father. “I think I get it, Pa. I’m gonna keep practicing, and maybe... one day, I’ll make a song that’s just like Dad’s.”

Baekhyun smiled softly. “I know you will.”

Suddenly, the front door creaked open, and a familiar voice called out from the hallway. “Baek! Byul! What are you two doing in here?”

Chanyeol’s tall, broad frame appeared in the doorway, a grin lighting up his face when he saw the scene before him. Byul, still holding the guitar, had his eyes locked with Baekhyun’s, both of them smiling quietly, caught up in their shared moment.

“Did he get any better?” Chanyeol asked, stepping further into the room and dropping down onto the couch next to Baekhyun. His eyes flickered to his son, proud and warm.

“Byul’s got his own sound now,” Baekhyun said, his voice full of love. "He’s not just playing for the sake of it. He’s playing with his heart."

Chanyeol looked over at Byul, his smile deepening as the boy’s cheeks flushed with shyness. “That’s my boy,” he whispered, reaching out to ruffle Byul’s hair.

For a moment, the three of them sat in silence, the quiet hum of the city outside now almost a distant memory. The room was filled with the music of Byul’s guitar, each note woven together with the love and dreams of both his fathers.

And as Byul played, strumming with a sense of purpose that mirrored Chanyeol’s own dreams from years ago, Baekhyun couldn’t help but feel that something truly special was unfolding before him. The torch had been passed, not from one generation to the next, but as a shared gift—an inheritance of passion, music, and love that would continue for as long as the stars continued to burn in the sky.

“Keep playing,” Baekhyun whispered to his son, his heart full.

And so, Byul played on, his music not just a legacy, but a promise that the music would always live on, no matter where their dreams took them.

Then Baekhyun is reminiscing about their youthful passion for music, he’s overwhelmed with nostalgia, triggering a flood of memories as they keep coming back to him. With a soft smile on his face, he remembers…