Chapter Text
Human Interface
Joe
Content Warning: The following footage contains excessive caffeine consumption and bad coding.
He’d typed that at the top of his project log and immediately proven it true.
Joe sat cross-legged on the floor because his chair had given up during the move-in, and the moving boxes made a better fort anyway. Every time he turned his head, packing tape whispered be brave.
He stared at the line of code on his screen and the line of code stared back. Neither of them was winning.
Maybe the code just needed encouragement? He hit run again. The terminal blinked its little blinks, he blinked more blinks, and his script coughed up the same complaint—now with extra attitude.
The error message might as well have said: no ❤️
Joe's phone vibrated against his leg. Savior. He dug it out of his pocket.
Parker's name lit up the screen with three bouncing dots.
Joe’s shoulders did a happy twitch.
He typed before Parker even sent anything:
Joe: SAVE ME. My code is trying to kill me. It's become sentient and it HATES me.
Parker’s text came in at the exact same second:
Parker: Finally having a break. How are u?
Parker: Right :D your masters?
Parker rarely texted during daylight; his schedule made normal people weep. The fact that he was texting at all meant he was either free for five minutes or slowly dying and reaching out to say goodbye. Both were equally likely.
Joe: Yes. It turns out the Master in Master's degree is a lie. I am the servant.
Joe: Let's go grab smth? I need to see a human person before I start talking to the code
Parker: I'm starving but i cant leave the studio rn rosien wants to run something after, sorry :(
Joe's thumbs were already moving.
Joe: DON’T MOVE. I’ll bring lunch!!
Joe: coffee too?
Parker: You don't have to
Joe: Please let me escape this apartment I am losing my mind.
Parker: 😂 Ok yes please come
Parker: Bring whatever and i’ll venmo you
Joe hopped up and immediately stepped on a roll of bubble wrap, which pop-pop-popped like tiny applause.
He hunted for shoes, found them under a box labeled KITCHEN??? (the question marks were necessary), and tried to remember where he’d put his wallet. Freezer? No. Sneaker? Yes. Great.
He hesitated. The part of his brain that always asked, What if something happens and you’re not filming it? made him grab the small camera bag too.
His phone buzzed one more time.
Parker: Bring extra napkins, I always forget
He hit the lobby, food bags thumping like friendly dogs against his shins.
"Joe?"
He turned. Rosien was behind him, holding two iced coffees and looking like he'd been assembled by a very stylish algorithm. The green hair was doing its thing—catching light, defying nature and making Joe feel beige just by proximity.
"Hey!" Joe lit up. "You going up?"
"No, I live in the lobby now." Rosien's mouth twitched. "Yes, I'm going up."
"Cool, cool." Joe fell into step beside him. "I brought lunch. For Parker. And, like, anyone who wants some. I got extra rice."
Rosien glanced at the bags. "You're a good friend."
"I just wanted to escape my apartment," Joe admitted. "My code is broken and my boxes are judging me."
The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. Rosien hit the button with his elbow, hands full.
The elevator was clear on three sides, and Joe remembered too late that he didn’t love heights. He tried to breathe normal.
"How's the move?" Rosien asked.
"Ongoing. Permanently ongoing. I think I'm going to die surrounded by cardboard."
"Poetic," Rosien said, and the doors opened on five.
"But the ceiling is cool. It's slanted. Very attic-core."
The studio door was propped open with a shoe. Why? Joe followed Rosien inside.
"—okay, but the second half could land softer," Parker was saying from the couch. "Like you’re still saying it to yourself. Then punch the last two words."
Joe’s face grinned all by itself. Parker looked up and the grin doubled back at him. "Dude," Parker said, already standing. "You came."
"I said I would," Joe confirmed, holding the bags up. "I brought—uh—assorted round items. Rice bowls. Extra napkins, as requested. And—oh, hi, Rini. Hi, David."
Rini was at the main table, papers fanned in front of him. He wore a shirt that made him look like a CEO of sanity.
David was next to him. Not working. Leaning back in his chair with one arm draped behind Rini's seat, his long legs stretched under the table. He was saying something low that Joe couldn't catch, but whatever it was made Rini press his lips together in a way that was trying very hard not to be a smile.
"Joe!" David called, not moving an inch. "You brought food?"
"Hey, Joe." Rini waved.
"I brought Parker food," Joe corrected. "You can fight him for it."
"You're literally the best. I was about to eat a pen." Parker said, squeezing Joe's shoulder.
Parker turned and gestured toward the guy he'd been sitting with. "Oh—Joe, this is Hyum. Hyum, this is Joe, one of my closest friends."
Hyum looked up.
Joe's brain went bzzzt.
Because—okay. Joe had seen pretty people before. He lived in a city. He had eyes. There was Rosien, who literally looked AI-generated. But Hyum was a different frequency of pretty. Big almond eyes. A face that was—
Was he allowed to think the word beautiful about another dude's face? Was that a thing? That was definitely a thing. That was happening right now in his brain and he could not stop it.
Hyum smiled—small, a little shy—and gave a quick half-bow. "Hi. Nice to meet you."
Joe opened his mouth. Sound came out. Whether it qualified as language was debatable.
"Hi! Hey. Hello. I'm Joe."
Parker's eyebrow twitched. He slid a look at Joe that said you good? and Joe gave him a nod that said absolutely not but please don't draw attention to it.
Hyum giggled—actual giggle, covered with a hand.
"Come eat," Parker said, pulling containers open. "Hyum, you too. There's enough for three, right?"
"I got extra rice," Joe confirmed. He sat down and focused very hard on opening his container without dropping it. Hyum settled across from them.
"So Hyum was showing me his raps," Parker said, mouth half-full. "They're really good. Like, really good."
Hyum ducked his head, clearly pleased. "They're not that—"
"They are," Parker said firmly. He pointed a chopstick at Joe. "You'd like them. The flow is smart."
Joe looked at Hyum and found him looking back, just briefly, before those big eyes dropped to his food and he puffed his cheeks.
"You're really cute."
Hyum blinked. Then he puffed his cheeks again—deliberately this time, almost playful—and grinned. "Thank you."
He'd said that out loud?
Joe suddenly found his rice bowl deeply, fascinatingly interesting.
His heart rate did not return to normal, but he kept chewing and swallowing.
Across the room, Rini let out a loud laugh.
Joe turned to look.
David preened like he’d been awarded a medal. He reached down and brushed his thumb along Rini’s temple, tucking a stray lock back. Rini didn’t murder him for it. He just rolled his eyes before leaning into David's shoulder.
Rosien laughed at them and poked Rini's arm.
Joe’s chest felt full. The room, with all its stacked tasks and half-finished things, hummed. An impulse crawled up his spine and then just said itself.
"You guys need someone to… record this."
Parker looked up.
"I want in," Joe clarified.
"In?"
"NCT. The whole thing." The words tumbled out faster than he could organize them. "Someone should be recording this. All of it. The behind-the-scenes, the process, the chaos. You’re going to forget what this feels like if you don’t."
Rini’s eyes flicked over, still leaning into David. He didn’t do the face he did when people suggested chaos.
Joe swallowed. "I want to join. As the—the vlogger? Content person? I already have the equipment, and I'm—this is what I do."
He braced for the pushback.
It didn't come. Rini just said, "Okay."
Joe blinked. "Okay?"
"We need content. Eric has been filming something already but..." Rini looked at David, who gave a casual thumbs-up. "You know the team. You know how to shoot. Welcome aboard."
Rosien, who had been quietly drinking his coffee by the monitors, turned with visible surprise. "That was… fast." He glanced at David, then at Rini, then at David again.
"When something makes sense, I don't argue with it," Rini told him. He looked almost offended.
"That was—" Joe started. He glanced at Hyum without meaning to and found Hyum watching him with that soft, pleased look that made Joe’s brain go warm and staticky. "This is going to be—"
The studio door opened without knocking.
Louis strode in like he owned the building and the block it sat on. His blonde hair was pushed back, and he looked like he'd committed a crime and was proud of it.
Behind him came a guy grinning so wide it looked like it hurt.
The last one to enter was tall. Flannel shirt. The posture of someone who had been dragged somewhere against his will and was processing it in real time.
"Everyone, shut up!" Louis announced, clapping his hands. The room wasn't even loud. "I've found him. Our new secret weapon."
Louis shoved the taller guy—gently but decisively—into the center of the room and threw his arms wide.
"This is Andrew," Louis declared. "Isaac's best friend. He just auditioned for me, and he is a monster."
Rini stood up straight. "We don't have any auditions scheduled? You can't just—"
"I already approved," Louis said over him. He was buzzing, joy making him untouchable. "He’s in. You’re welcome."
Rini didn’t bother hiding the sigh. "Louis," he tried again. "You don’t have the authority to—"
"Rini," Isaac cut in, laughter in his throat. "He's incredible, I promise." He clapped Andrew’s shoulder with a pride that almost made Joe clap, too. "Andy. Breathe."
Andrew obeyed like Isaac had found the right button.
Parker rushed over, laughing, and hugged Andrew tight.
Rini opened his mouth, closed it, looked at Rosien for backup. Rosien just shrugged. It earned him a glare.
Louis bounced on his toes. "He’s ours."
Joe looked at Andrew, then at Louis, then at the room's current state of chaos—Rini mid-protest, David hiding a laugh behind his hand, Rosien rubbing the back of his neck.
Joe reached for his camera.
"This," he said, glancing at Hyum, "is going to be—this is—I should be filming this. Wait. Should I be filming this? Can I film things now? Is that—"
"You literally just got hired thirty seconds ago," David commented.
"Right. So. Technically, yes?"
Joe turned to the room and raised the camera.
Through the viewfinder, the room lit up like a screen when the code finally runs.
human interface (n.) the point where a human meets the system; raw inner logic shown as usable form