Trouble

Voice

Namjoon should have known that this night would derail at some point after he put the fourth empty bottle of soju down on the table. Or maybe it was the fifth. Somehow counting things became a little harder sometime after the second bottle. Or was it the third? He did not drink the whole bottle alone, God forbid, Yoongi, Hoseok and whatever the other guys that joined them some time ago to congratulate him for the cool performance were called probably drink just as much of it. But on the other hand, Soju is not the only thing they are drinking and by now a nice mixture of different bottles in all shapes and colours has accumulated on the table in front of them. The music is loud, the lights are low and half of their drinks were on the house as payment for the performance. The owner of the club already said that they would not be able to pay Namjoon with actual money. But he has always accepted alcohol as just as much of a valid payment. And so does Yoongi. Or rather, it would probably make more sense to introduce them as RM and Agust D right now. Both of them are underground rappers, somewhat popular within a certain scene of Seoul but barely known outside of it. Yet. They both share the same dream. The dream of making it somewhere in the big music industry. To get their name and their music out to the masses. Yoongi has moved to Seoul from Daegu in the hopes of making it into the music industry here with his own raps. So far he has not been that successful but Namjoon knows, that Yoongi, just like himself, also has a hand for producing music. A few artists, mostly other small indie rappers, have actually contacted Yoongi in the past to ask him for help with mixing and producing their next online releases. If anyone of them is going to make it big here, it's probably Min Yoongi.

Namjoon met him at a rap battle a couple of years ago when they were randomly paired against each other. What was supposed to be them verbally destroying each other has lead to a deep friendship that has lasted for over three years already. Or was it four? Suddenly Namjoon is not really sure about any of the details anymore.

"Hey, Yoongi, how long has it been since we met?", he asks, tapping his best friend's shoulder to get his attention over the booming bass of the music that is played in this club, now that both of them have finished their little performance to hype up the crowd. Yoongi turns around with an annoyed look on his face. A couple of years ago that might have stopped Namjoon from talking to him, but by now he knows that Yoongi looks like that almost all the time. It's just his casual face, a sort of natural frown. But deep down he is a softie, he just rarely shows it. Especially not with so many other people around.

"What?", Yoongi asks back, a little louder to be able to communicate over the annoying sound of the music. Some kind of bad remix of a popular K-Pop song, the bass cranked up way too high for it to actually be enjoyable for anyone that is not completely drunk out of their mind yet. And sadly, Namjoon isn't quite there yet. He leans over to Yoongi to yell directly into his ear this time.

"How long has it been since- ah, fuck it", he interrupts himself, seeing as Yoongi probably still doesn't quite understand a word he is saying, judging by the confused and also somewhat annoyed expression on his face. "Wanna go outside?", Namjoon suggests, using both hands to gesture towards the exit. Yoongi's face lights up, it seems he finally understood something. He nods before he turns around to gesture at Hoseok, who's been sitting next to him all night. Actually, next to him might already be an understatement, the only way Hoseok could probably be any closer to Yoongi right now would be by actually climbing onto his lap. Probably he wouldn't mind doing that. After a bit of gesturing from Yoongi, Hoseok quickly gets his jacket and the three of them leave the club together.

Yoongi is leaning against the wall of the club, right underneath a neon sign, blowing smoke into the cold air of the night. Hoseok is standing directly next to him, probably trying his hardest not to cough because of the smoke hitting his face. The two have always looked weird next to each other. Yoongi, always dressed in all black, looking like he does not give a single fuck about anything or anyone, and Hoseok, a splash of colours, admiring him for it. Even the way Yoongi leans against the wall, one of his boots pressed against it, not caring that the dirty soles of his shoes may leave stains on the face of the building, is somehow cool and almost lacklustre. The way he blows smoke into the cold air, fingers with chipping black nail polish on them carelessly holding the cigarette, is the epitome of cool. Yoongi is the personification of the word swag. Also a living grunge aesthetic. Tight black jeans, with just the right amount of rips in them, a black shirt tugged into them, a black leather jacket to top it all of, black nail polish on his fingers that was probably applied delicately just to be chewed on moments later and black eyeliner around his dark eyes, to pronounce their cat-like shape. Only his hair, a soft shade of fading blue, gives him a small dash of colour. When he is on stage he sometimes wears a basecap over it, of course, a black one, pierced, with a few rings dangling from it. The same rings that also dangle from his ears that have been pierced several times on both sides.