FAN ACCOUNT | 𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙞

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐘 | 1

A world without dance or a world without music... those sound boring as hell. Can I not pick at all? I prefer to rot in hell rather than live in a world with no passion.

- Song Mingi, Interview for Vogue

♫♪.ılılıll|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|llılılı.♫♪

After a long day of interviews filled with way too intrusive questions, a photoshoot for Calvin Klein that made him way more uncomfortable than not, and fansite encounters with way too many close-calls, Mingi was more than ready to go home and throw himself on the bed to get some much-deserved rest. He could already envision himself hurriedly walking to his mattress and sighing in delight at its soft feel.

So when his manager finally allowed him to leave, he was more than ecstatic. Sure, he still had songs to finish, collaborations with other artists to define, and schedules to arrange, but all of that could wait. There's always tomorrow, anyway. Sleep, on the other hand? Mingi considers himself lucky whenever he gets more than 3 hours of it, and judging from how today's going, he'll most likely get more than 5 hours. Quite a jackpot, in his opinion.

"I'm going home," Mingi announced to the other person in the studio working in these ungodly hours. "Please don't stay up late again, hyung."

Hongjoong, one of his closest friends and the only producer in the entire world Mingi trusts his life work with, scoffed. He dismissed Mingi's concern with a slight hand flick, his attention not escaping the computer in front of him. "Yeah, yeah. Go home, Mingi. You worked hard today, so get some rest. Tomorrow won't be any easier."

Mingi scowled at the other's clear lack of self-care, but ultimately let it slide, as he knew how hard he worked to maintain his reputation as one of the best producers in the music industry. Though he was extremely proud of his hyung, Mingi wished he'd prioritize himself more frequently instead of allowing his workload to consume him. But who's he to judge? Mingi sacrificed a great deal to gain the stardom he has today.

Hesitantly, the rapper approached the other's back, patting it slightly as a goodbye. "See you tomorrow then. I'll leave some snacks for you in case you get hungry."

As expected, Hongjoong didn't respond, but he paid no mind, for he knew Hongjoong did take the food he left every time he went home first. Normally, they'd both stay up together, brainstorming ideas for new melodies or writing lyrics, but sometimes Mingi grew exhausted from the workload, forcing him to take a break every once in a while. Whenever this happened, Hongjoong would shoo him away and continue their process alone, which left Mingi to feel slightly guilty at first. But now, after years of being friends and coworkers, Mingi knew Hongjoong like the back of his hand and vice-versa.

True to his word, Mingi left some of Hongjoong's favorite snacks and a short "thank you" note on one of the studio's tables, careful to not disrupt the older's concentration —he did not feel like taking on his wrath when his body was close to shutting down from exhaustion. Hopefully, when he came back tomorrow, he wouldn't find a sleeping Hongjoong lying uncomfortably on the desk, or else he'd have to deal with a whiny producer complaining about his neck pain for the rest of the day.

Thankfully, his home wasn't far from the company, so after making sure his appearance was as hidden as possible, he trekked to his apartment. He would've asked his manager for a ride home, but he couldn't find him anywhere after they arrived at the company, the last interaction between them being a "please don't do anything stupid" coming from his manager. Mingi's almost completely certain there's something fishy going on between him and someone else, but hey, this is Seonghwa he's talking about. Talking to him about his whereabouts is like asking a brick wall about their feelings: absolutely pointless.

Also, he didn't mind the walk. It's nice to take in the fresh air —or what's left of the freshness— once in a while, and it's pleasing to move his body after hours of sitting in front of a screen (yes, he worked more after arriving from work). Besides, Seoul during the nighttime is a sight to behold, for the city lights shine brightly, giving the capital an enamouring glow.

"Wait, that's genius. I need to write that down." Luckily there were no people around, or else they'd be giving him weird looks for speaking his thoughts out-loud.

It took him 5 long minutes to reach the apartment complex, already searching for his keys to enter his home as quickly as possible. And after rushing out of the elevator, opening his apartment door, kicking his shoes off, brushing his teeth, and changing from his day clothes into comfy clothes, he was more than ready to enter dreamland.

Ding!

Or maybe not.

Ding!

Groaning, Mingi grabbed his phone and hovered it over his face to check the notification, eyes scrunching at the unnecessary brightness. Who was even contacting him at 3 in the morning? Seonghwa would never, for he prefers sleep over checking up on the rapper. Hongjoong's definitely out of the question, since he's too busy burying his ears in a plethora of sounds. Maybe San, one of his good friends in the company? Nah, they never message each other, preferring their friendship to grow in person rather than depending on the phone.

The notification, however, was nothing he expected.

Twitter: yuntopia liked your tweet.

He had completely forgotten about the existence of this account, one he made a few months ago to stay updated on one of his favorite artists. It was made for fun at first, then Mingi found himself spiralling and somehow ended up finding tweets about his role model.

"Fuck it," he had told himself when he created the account, accepting the fact this supposed stan twitter would most likely consume his entire free time. Not that he had that much, anyway. He knew what stan twitter was, having come across some posts about himself that his fans — Mingkis, is what he loves to call them— make. And honestly, Mingi adored them. They made him laugh way too many times.

Since he's been extremely busy lately, he hasn't kept up with the account, leaving it out in the open to gather dust. He had forgotten it existed until San excitedly told him about his favorite dancer's whereabouts.

"Did you hear?" San questioned, eyes bright and shining excitedly. "Yunho's coming back to Seoul! He's been hired by some entertainment company to choreograph for their artists! How cool is that?"

They both excitedly discussed Yunho's future career plans, allowing their imaginations to plant scenarios in their heads. San had left an hour later to follow his schedule, and Mingi took advantage of his time to tweet about the news.

@MYUNGIHO: YUNHO CHOREOGRAPHING FOR IDOLS SAVED THIS SHIT OF A YEAR

13k Retweets         3.4k Quote Retweets         90.2k likes

It wasn't until now that he checked the amount of attention it got, eyes bulging at the numbers and the sudden increase of followers. There goes his plan to stay as hidden as possible.

He scrolled through the thousands of notifications, interacting with other Yunhopowers —the fandom name the oh-so-great Yunho bestowed— and holding back from dragging the haters through hell and back. He was about to turn off his phone and finally get the rest he long awaited for since the first interview, already moving himself to his favorite position while cuddling a pillow, when his eyes caught the username that got him to check his Twitter in the first place.

yuntopia liked your tweet.

yuntopia replied to your tweet
       he's a good dancer but idk if he's good enough to coreograph for idols

Even though it was close to 4 in the morning, even though Mingi's eyelids were dangerously close to closing, even though his phone could possibly fall on his face from how weakly he was holding it; Mingi's nose flared. Whoever this "yuntopia" person is just initiated a war they never saw coming.

reply to: @yuntopia
@MYUNGIHO: he's won multiple awards for his dance skills worldwide. i can tell you haven't even won the spelling bee. get your priorities straight i aint gonna prove yunho's talent to someone who refuses to accept perfection exists