✰ Rap Star ⤑ Changlix

1

"Felix, just listen," a guy with short black hair begs me.
I sigh as I pack my books into my bags. "What do you want?" I say casually, titling my head to give him my most famous look of annoyance.
"Minho wants to go see his boyfriend tonight," I don't let him finish. Instead I stick a leftover granola bar from lunch into his mouth to shut him up.
"I'm not going to the club to watch a bunch of mentally unstable young adults who are wasting their life away on a piece of fame that won't last more than two years," I argue, pushing past my one of two college friends.
"Felix, Minho's boyfriend isn't like that, and neither are his friends! I promise it will be fun. Just try it," my friend is still trying to convince me, but it's not working. I won't budge.
A guy with dark purple hair greets me and my annoying friend in the hallway outside my classroom. He's texting away on his phone, fixing a bud into his ear. "I'm not going. There's no use in me attending some lame club anyway. We should be studying," my friend with purple hair turns his head toward my direction when he hears my annoyed tone.
"Hyunjin, leave Felix alone. If he doesn't want to come don't force him," the older of us sends a glare toward the boy with black hair; Hyunjin.
"But Minho, Felix will keep all the guys at bay and I can flirt with the girls if he comes," I roll my eyes at his reasoning. "Please Felix, I'll do anything," he once again pleads.
I groan, my hand meeting with the back of my neck. He's not going to shut up if I leave it. Either I yell at him and cause a fight or suck it up and go to this place for three quarters of an hour. "Fine, but you're doing my art project," I choose the latter and agree.
"Deal!" Hyunjin agrees swiftly and that's how I find myself at the club at nine in the evening, sipping on a cup of water I haven't kept my eyes off of for a second. I don't trust clubbers. You don't find a Prince Charming to watch your drink for you like in those tv dramas. I can see Hyunjin dancing with some girls in the middle of the floor. You'd think he would be a dance major with his level of skill, but he's not. He's not a art major either, which I find surprising since he's talented in that too. Instead, Hyunjin is majoring in fashion. I guess he wants to be a model or something. Or make clothes for an agency. Honestly, I don't know much about him. It's only been two months since we started hanging out every weekend.
"You should at least try to enjoy it," I hear a voice say behind me.
Since I recognize the voice, I don't freak out and just hum, pressing my clear plastic cup to my lips. "Whatever."
"You are more of a party crasher than me," Minho says, throwing an arm around my shoulder. He seems like the type to be distant from people at first, but he's actually pretty affectionate. At least he is with me. That tends to happen with a lot of men though. I'm what Hyunjin likes to call a lady and man killer. I turn the straights gay or something like that. I can't exactly say I don't. I've received so many gifts since the semester started. I appreciate it and all, but there's nothing special about me. They're just idealizing me. They like my deep voice and cute exterior. I toss my empty cup into the garbage when I realize there's nothing left inside it.
"I'm leaving," I tell Minho, but he quickly stops me by grabbing my arm.
"Can you at least stay for my boyfriends performance? It's the next one."
When I first met Minho I didn't think he was the type to go for guys, but apparently that's what he only goes for. He's not into girls. Well, I'm not especially into them either, but if the right girl came around I wouldn't pass her up.
"Fine," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. "He's a rapper, right?" I ask.
Minho nods, his eyes staring at the stage as the lights around the club dim. I'm thankful for this since my eyes have been putting up with a bunch of different colors for the last hour. I watch as a large black banner flies down above the small stage with a weird name on it. 3racha. It sounds kind of stupid. "This is them?"
Minho doesn't say anything. Even if he wanted to, the screams of the crowd are making my head shake. I hate concerts. They are so annoying. I hear a few different voices come onto the mic. They're laughing, screaming, rapping. I don't like rap. I like classical ballads. Why am I even here? I barely now Minho and Hyunjin and yet I let them drag me around. I don't even mind doing my art project. Even so I ended up here. The rapping comes to a stop and the cheers echo for a few seconds before the place goes silent. I lift my head and look at the stage. There's a guy behind a mic stand, hands gripping onto the metal like he'll die if he lets go. He has his head tilted down toward the ground so we can't see his face. I take this as a sign to leave. I take a step to turn but as soon as I look away, a beat vibrates through the floors and ricochets off the walls of the building. It feels like an earthquake hit, but what's funny is that the shaking feeling isn't what stops me from continuing out the door. It's the voice that starts to seep through the pockets in between people. This guys voice is amazing. It's raspy and desperate. It's not deep but not high pitched either. It feels like he's in pain.
I turn on my heel and look back to the stage. The guy has his eyes closed but he's still singing with the same grip on the stand. He's not rapping. I thought he was a rapper? I can feel my heart beating in my ears, my blood rushing through my veins to keep me from passing out. Why does his voice have such an effect on me? My hands clench at my sides, my feet bringing me closer to the stage. There's a lot of people so I can't get super close, but I'm at least closer than before. Suddenly, the song changes pace and he looks up, a big grin across his face. My heart stops for a second. I think. Maybe. Nothing is clear but his voice. He starts rapping, taking the mic from its stand and making his way across the small stage. He walks with a groove, skipping steps and whipping his head around lightly. He's so carefree about everything that's going on. Like there aren't about three hundred people screaming for him. He's living it up, and the weird part is, I find myself enjoying it.
His rapping isn't annoying. It's not mumbled and his voice isn't bland. He's got a unique tone. What's more is that he's obviously having fun. He doesn't look like he's doing it for the fame, but instead because it's something he likes to do. His rapping ends and he switches back to singing. It's so painful but exciting. I've never liked something so much before. I think I'm in love. Not with him, but his voice.