Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bright lights, flashing, jumping. The banging of electronic drums, the thumping of a thousand hearts beating at once as friends embrace each other in tears. Screams, shrieks, and squeals as fans reprocess the fact that they are here . Strangers become friends as they exchange specially made bracelets. Sections cheer and gush as couples get engaged during the climax of slow, mushy love songs.

God, you loved it. 

This had been your life before you were even a thought. Your parents had met at a concert in their teens. They got engaged at a concert, your mother told your father about her pregnancy at a concert and heaven knows that pregnancy wouldn’t stop her from being at the barricade. 

There was never a time where music wasn’t playing in your house. There was always something lingering in the background. What genre depended on the day. Your parents were quite literally any kind of music people, including country. They taught you about how culture impacted and created the genres that existed today. The fundamentals, the first songs from the beginning of time.

You could sing, but you preferred instruments. Playing with people, backing them up, supporting them. It sent sparks through you when your instrument harmonized with the singer. Orchestra, jazz band, marching band. If someone in the school choir needed an accompanist, you were the first person they asked. “Wild card” is what they called you. Five seconds and you could play anything on an instrument you don’t even know the name of.

Eventually you started recording your own stuff. You learned the ins and outs of various audio mixing programs which eventually let you compose unique backing tracks for the dance program. It was in your junior year that the stage tech teacher approached you. You learned how to take care of the theater you played in and eventually, got you into managing the soundboard.

Music, sound, it was your everything. 

So the day you found your baby cousins notebook was the day you knew she’d be something golden .

You remember the day she was born. Your mother, her fathers oldest sister, her “first kid” she joked, had to talk him down over the phone while she sped to the hospital as fast as she can. You remember laughing at your mom telling him to calm down because “it’s not like you’re the one about to push a baby out of your-!” 

The hospital was boring, but when your uncle said you could come inside and meet her, you could feel the world shift. With good manners, you checked on your aunt first and then you saw her. 

Your Hummingbird. Your Zoey. The cutest little thing you’d ever seen. As she grew, she was the kindest soul you’d ever met. Always offering to help, always sticking it out for the long run. 

You were always asking your mom to call your aunt to check on her and Zoey just in case she needed help. Maybe that’s why her mom tried pushing you back, pushing you away. 

When Zoey was around 12 or 13, her maternal grandmother came from Korea to live with her. The air in the house changed. Your uncle and aunt began arguing, fighting that Zoey should be more immersed in her culture. She started calling you every night. It got worse when her mom and grandma started ignoring her until she learned Korean. You’d pick her up after your classes were over for the day just so that she’d get out of the house for a while. 

“You know,” you started. Today’s menu was ice cream. It’d been hot all week and you hadn’t had the time to pick her up due to finals being so close. “When I was learning Spanish, I used to listen to the old boleros Claudia would play in the shop.” Claudia, the woman who ran the little bodega at the end of your street. Wanting the experience, she hired you right when you turned 15. “I mean, I didn’t have much of a choice when I was working, but I would listen to them at home too. We just need to find your grove and run with it.” You nudged her arm as she pushed her ice cream around with her spoon.

“I’ll learn with you.” Her eyes lit up a little as she turned to smile at you. 

“Really?” Zoey leaned over a bit. She looked tired and a bit sad. The kid was only 13 and she was already burnt out and exhausted from everything.

“Of course. Anything for my little hummingbird.” You ruffled her hair a bit after setting your now empty cup aside. “Now how about we go check out that game store you were eyeballing earlier?”

So, every time you picked her up you’d spend a small while practicing Korean. A group she was particularly drawn to was a group called Sunlight Sisters . It lead you both down a long rabbit hole and eventually, an obsession with Kpop. Zoey especially loved the rappers of the newer groups. 

But of course, things don’t stay good for long. When her parents divorced, her grandma wanted to move back to Korea and her mom had to take care of her. Zoey didn’t want to leave. She just started high school and now she had to deal with the idea of moving across the ocean? Maybe it was you stepping in that made your aunt try and push you away, but you were able to argue that she should be able to at least finish high school here in the States. 

You could tell the change in her demeanor when her mom left. She loved her dad, of course, but it hurt. You and Zoey still hung out a bunch, but she began pulling away and getting more in her head a bit. Your uncle had to pick up more shifts to stay on top of bills so you began picking her up from school. 

“So, how was school today?” Really? That's the best you could come up with?

“Oh, it's going good. I have this really big project coming up.” She went on to retell what was going on in school while her favorite Sunlight Sisters song played in the background. 

As the car pulled up to her house, she said her goodbyes and grabbed her stuff, promising to call later. It wasn’t until she’d already gone into the house did you see the notebook that got left on the floor of the passenger seat. When you reached out to pick it up, a couple of loose pages fell out. One in particular stood out to you. There were doodles all over the page. A sketch of her singing with stars and something written in Korean.

“I really need to keep up on my reading skills…” you muttered to yourself as you glanced over the words at the top. There were a bunch of eraser marks and it was just a concept but it looked like… lyrics? 

Okay like I know I ramble

But when shootin’ my words I go rambo

Took blood, sweat, and tears 

to look natural

That’s how it’s done, done, done

Shuffling through a few more pages, you were shocked. Hummingbird always had a knack for song, but these lyrics? Songs nearly completed; they were gold. It made tears prick at the corner of your eyes as you put the loose pages back in the notebook neatly and rushed out the car. Zoey had been stepping out of the house in a hurry once you got to the porch.

“You wrote these?” Her eyes darted between you and the notebook as she started to get embarrassed. “Hummingbird, these are amazing!” You grabbed her shoulders as her expression began to change into shock.

“You really think so?” 

“I know so.” 

You had always been her number one supporter but now? You were her number one fan. You helped her find the beats and taught her everything you knew about mixing. She was able to push out one, then two, then three songs all written by herself in the makeshift recording studio your parents had. 

Her rapping? Genius unmatched. You’d take her to freestyle events and she’d tear them up every time. Anytime she opened her mouth, it was like she would touch your soul. 

Then Celine came along. 

You were both so shell shocked to see her in person let alone her niece, a sweet girl named Rumi. She’d been searching for a lyricist for a new group called Huntr/x and thought that Zoey would be the perfect fit. Zoey was over the moon, of course. Once she moved to Korea with her mom, her training would begin. You encouraged her all the way but something felt… odd. 

Rumi looked like she was carrying the world on her shoulders. It wasn’t hard to tell that something had been bugging the poor girl. You just hoped she was okay.

Once Zoey had graduated, it took them a year and a half to debut. She had called you as much as she could, asking for tips on new songs to perfect the perfect debut album. 

And now you're here. Seven long years and you finally got to see your Hummingbird on stage.