♡ . — ꒰ 𝒚/𝒏 ﹠ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒔 — 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒐𝒎𝒈𝒚𝒖꒱
perm tag list : @run2seob, @evalevaeva, @cheesecakeluver, @lovenha7, @loserlvrss, @dearmynayeon, @soobinz-wife (comment to be added).
written by : @lgbtsana ﹠ @run2seob
content warning : car accident, angst, character death.
“Gyu, hurry!” Yeonjun hollered, stressing every syllable in an attempt to hasten his bandmate. Time unfortunately won’t slow for any of them; their arrhythmic heartbeat is the closest they’ll get to any sort of clock ticking.
Beomgyu quickly huffed in response, his countenance growing more irritated the more his fingers fiddled with the clip of his micpack– neither his hands nor shirt cooperating. “Okay, okay!” he yelps, but it’s unsure on whether he’s speaking as a way to compose himself or if he’s answering Yeonjun’s call. With a frown and pupils rolled back, Beomgyu sped over to Kai.
“Uh,” Kai turned over, stumbling a little as he was focused on adjusting his in-ear monitor. “Yeah. Sure.” Kai shook the nerves off his hands, adjusting the mic as he held back a chuckle at the poorly hot glued studs on Beomgyu’s belt-pack. “There.”
“Thanks,” he took a step back, patting the boy’s head, “You’re a life saver.” Roars seeped
through the walls; you’d be convinced the performers have already– well, performed.
“Fuck, I’m shaking,” the said life saver mumbled. Beomgyu just rested his hand in Kai’s hair, shaking it a bit before pulling away.
It'd be silent if it weren’t for their everbeating heartbeats that resonated through their bones and eventually flooded their ears. With the nerves they had, you’d consider them rookies. Yet the roars of the fans as they walk onto the stage said otherwise. Performances back to back seemed almost insufferable, but the grins and cheers that came from behind the curtain pulled their own smiles to their ears.
In the same manner, the two staff stationed at either side tug on the rope and the warm spotlight bleeds through the velvet and splays across their skin. Beomgyu glanced up to the lights and saw the dust shining in the light. If he were close minded enough, he’d think it’s glitter.
“Good evening! We are Tomorrow X Together, also known as TXT!” Yeonjun, their leader, spoke to the audience. The fans in the audience started screaming their names, causing the members’ eagerness to perform increasing by the second. “We’re performing a new song,” he paused, screams and a buzz of taps as a mock drumroll reached their ears, “Good Boy Gone Bad!” His voice sounded so hyper that it was almost shaky. Adrenaline could be heard and felt through the way his lips quivered, attempting to hold back his growing smile.
The fans’ shouts hit the ceiling and every crevice of the room. If it were up to the band, they’d savor the moment for as long as possible- but they came to perform, and the audience came to watch.
The lights dimmed down as the members got into their positions, prepping their thoughts for what’s to come. Despite continuous rehearsals in an echoey and cramped garage, their nerves ate at them every time. There’s always those lingering possibilities: that Kai’s drumstick could break, that a putrid sasaeng would hop onto the stage, that Yeonjun’s string would pop, that they’d make an irreversible mistake. Yet on every stage, they performed with high hopes that the current and next one won’t be a step back but a step forward.
Their hearts got tangled in the wires of the mics and got mixed in the bunch of cables taped in black to the floor. Every step they took, the risk of them stepping on their heart increased– with how fast it was beating, you’d think they’d be going into cardiac arrest by now.
Beomgyu stood at the microphone, Huening Kai sat at the drums, and Yeonjun turned the peg to the guitar.
“Hit it!” Beomgyu shouted out as the lights came on.
“Whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa oh!” Beomgyu’s soothing voice mixed with the guitar riff made the fans rise in volume and some physically- going onto their tippy toes and leaning forward to let the music ring closer to their skin. The blend of sounds made the hairs on their arms rise, goosebumps spreading all over their skin. Beomgyu’s aura completely changed as he sang on, both him and his bandmates brought themselves further into the beat of the song.
“I just killed me with all that stress!” His voice stretched throughout the bar, his vocals purposefully strained in a way that made the crowd’s eyes widen. Flip phones rise, capturing the moment in a distorted way that captivates the moment but never fully– never in a way that shows the true emotion of warm passion.
“Watch, watch, gotta, watch, watch me, yeah!” He started to sing the chorus as the instruments slowed down slightly before quickening as the lyrics went on. For a moment, it feels like it slows specifically for him. With the lights beaming onto his head, a bead of sweat runs along the side of it, shining in the light and sticking out. Although a visual display of his effort isn’t much needed when his voice shows enough.
Reaching the final chorus, Beomgyu smirked as the instruments slowed down once again, “I like being bad.” his teeth peeking through the slit of his lips, feeling almost comical the way it’s scened so perfectly.
“Good boy! Gone bad!” he continued the chorus as he reached the ending of the song.
As the vocals reached their end, Kai looked up for cue. His brain was a jumble of “Don’t mess up” and a wildly offbeat interpretation of how his solo would sound. When his drumstick hit the cymbal, though, everything snapped into place. The slight tremors in his hands didn’t fall back, but he instead used them as a reminder to hold his drumsticks tighter– all the sweat on his hands increased the risk of him slipping up and dropping one.
Yeonjun follows after with a riff, his fingers tapping between frets. His callouses hurt but not enough distract him from the burn of passion that fired through his veins. They were stars– all beaming on stage and twinkling in their respective areas. The constellation they formed was beautiful, enough to be documented in the form of sound.
Their blood pumped to their ears and they huffed out goodbyes until their throats were dry. It felt like forever before they got their quiet, but they slumped down on a cushioned bench, weak hands stretching towards each other for high fives.
Beomgyu looked at the two with eyes shining with content and affection, his lips quivering. The moment felt far too perfect: The way Kai rolled the bottle directly into his palm, the way the fan hit right at his hottest spot–
“Well. I’m beat.” Yeonjun huffed, dramatically slapping a hand across his head.
“Who isn’t?” Kai pointed out. Yeonjun nodded eagerly in response. Beomgyu gave a simple shrug and a matching nod.
Their manager came backstage and hurried them, “Let’s go, we have another show to get to!” Her voice was pushed straight out her chest, making the three boys stand up immediately to follow her, sensing the underlying command and irritation. With sweat pooled on their foreheads, they glance between each other with an unspoken smirk. Not a moment's rest, huh? It said, and it was shared between all three of them.
“Alright, your next performance is at..” she trails off, looking through the pen she wrote on a damp napkin. What a professional. “XXXX bar. They want you to perform Good Boy Gone Bad and whatever else. Just nothing stupid, understood?” She spoke quickly to them, but at a perfect pace for them to register.
“Understood.” The three spoke in unison as the manager dragged them to the car.
“I’ll meet you there, okay?” The boys nodded as she shut the door, walking away to talk on the phone.
“Did we mess up?” Yeonjun asked, rubbing his callous hand against a cracked corner of his nail.
“I definitely did. My voice cracked so many times I sounded like Kai in puberty,” Beomgyu chuckled. Kai didn’t share the reaction.
“They heard that first voice crack and lowered your mic volume. For the week,” Yeonjun joked, poking at both of them.
Regardless of their playful argument, they all had a deep respect for one another. After all, they’ve all seen each other splayed out on the cold concrete floor after a bad run. The respect they held showed through their rough smiles and persevering words even when they’re all down. Beomgyu wanted to tease back but his grin wouldn’t fall.
“God, I love you,” He said to the two.
“My finger is too empty. Try again,” Kai teases.
Halfway to their next gig’s venue, the car’s engine clicked. It wasn’t a snap, but more of a wet splutter. At this point, Yeonjun prayed he would’ve listened to his father about learning more about cars. Even without studies, you could tell that the sound was unusual. While it could’ve been a simple mishap, the boys felt the vines tighten across their heart. Yet this time it wasn’t due to passion. It was fear.
“Uh, what’s going on?” Yeonjun spoke quicker than his tongue could articulate, his voice obviously confused and jumbled. Down to his mouth was uncoordinated. Who could be in a situation like this? From playful banter to.. worried ones.
“Like we know..” Kai mumbled, his tone sarcastic yet still trembling. There’s a venue to get to and fans waiting. Tickets registered and curtains closed, waiting for the group to stand behind them. They can’t be late. Looking back at the memory, the dust Beomgyu envisioned seemed to fog up their luck, as well. Is the spotlight forever temporary?
Despite repeated attempts, the wheel couldn’t be saved by their internal mumbles or wishes.
The manager’s car stopped in the middle of the road, swooping to pause and check on the crash. The engine sparked, and the driver managed to wiggle out safely. His coughs silenced his words, but it’s not like what he would say could change the output.
“The boys,” she gulped, “No- no, they’re under there!” Her cries were strained and raw and from the heart. The napkin she wrote the venue’s address on was offered to her to wipe her tears, but they wouldn’t stop flowing. Pushing the hand away and swatting with her free one, she calls to nobody in particular, “Call the cops!”
Soon came the rushed sirens and blurry lights, EMTs pressing for their pulse. Yet fate was not working in their favor. Not when their lips turned blue before they could sing their final song. Not when their limbs relaxed against the heavily damaged metal of the car.
Their one mistake didn’t happen during but instead happened after their performance. “I’m sorry, miss..” the paramedic sighs, patting the woman’s back.
The apology, unfortunately, wasn’t enough to withdraw pure grief. Nothing could. Her clothes and the road were soaked in it, like a black liquid that you couldn’t wash off.
Her steps back towards her car were slow. There was no next performance to get to, but her CD awaited her at home, and that same performance would be replayed until she washed off the stains.
Callouses show proof of effort, but they do not equate to talent. You used to finish your days with lines across your fingertips, indents from metal strings pressing against the flesh. Now, you crane your head to look up at the dusted skyroof, now cluttered with spiderwebs. The sun shines against the web, only illuminating how much time it’s been since you abandoned your passions.
A black hard case leans against the corner, an almost painful strike between your ribs when you glance at it. You haven’t picked up your guitar in years. Guilt clouds your consciousness—it’s almost embarrassing. Yet when you take the smallest step towards it, the case slides off the wall.
And of course, you were close enough to catch the fall. Who knows how many tears would’ve followed if you didn’t?
The temperatures in the attic have never been bearable. Even now, the humidity and warmth bleeding into your throat makes you groan. Your guitar doesn’t hold up any better. The second you click off the case, one of your nails screeches against the metal of the string, the grum sound echoing against the walls.
Propping the guitar onto your knee, all it takes is one simple strum for your hand to relax. Is it worth the struggles again? Why animate a memory if there’s no change to its ending? You pluck a chord, but the horribly out-of-tune strings cause it to sound awfully disturbing.
“Damn it...” you mutter to yourself, reaching across the guitar and to the case, reaching for a tuner. You could’ve sworn you remembered leaving some around here. Your hand falls to your hip, uncertainty clear; clouding your judgments. The uncertainty of wanting to play the guitar. There were once happy memories surrounding music for yourself, yet the unfortunate memories surrounding it made you stop in your tracks. These were simple thoughts, yet they could make you trip over your own feet twice and over again. Even with past memories flooding in, you still can’t remember where you left that tuner. “Oh yeah, crap, where is it?” you mentally facepalm, stopping yourself from thinking, heaving a sigh.
Your hands begin to dig through some old boxes, searching for the tuner you misplaced. Your elbow bumps into a CD case while searching for the tuner. “What is this…?” your eyebrows furrowed, whispering to yourself.
You then felt your eyebrow raising before reading it out, “A band called ‘Tomorrow By Together’?” You had many questions, so instead of verbalizing them to yourself, you pick up the case to inspect it. It was a unique logo, something you never see from singers nowadays; they definitely could’ve made it big. “It seemed there was a concept?” you noticed, nodding in approval. It made you think, what made them stop releasing music after this, “I’m gonna have to Google this.”
You open the CD case, your eyes landing on the signatures on the lyric book. “Beomgyu, Huening Kai, and Yeonjun… Thank you for managing us; you’re the best.” You couldn’t help but feel yourself whisper the words written on the front of the lyric book. Your mom had managed them—still she failed to ever mention them. You found it odd; obviously they liked her, so why did she never mention anything about them?
You shook your head, as if shaking away your disbelief. You took the CD out of its case, examining the front of it. Their logo was on the CD as well, as well as their song name. “Opening Sequence?” you read it out loud, an interesting song name.
“Did they choose this because it was their first song?” You couldn’t help but ask that simple question.
Sighing to yourself, you put the CD inside the CD player. The song started, you can tell there was an R&B influence, as well as soul; it was still a nice listen though. You pulled your phone from your back pocket, quickly remembering you were going to Google about the group. You could remember from the logo when inspecting that they had a ton of potential, so why only release one CD?
Your questions seemed to be answered almost instantly, your eyes landing on a news article from the late 1990s. “Condiments made their car engine fail? This has to be a joke…” your eyes widened as you coughed out a laugh of disbelief. There was no way that could happen, right?
“I feel like they can’t lie, but then again, who am I to say anything? They do that nowadays anyway.” you murmured, remembering one article from earlier that year. You continued to read the article on your phone, scrolling through it while playing with your hair.
The news article from the car accident had read;
[BREAKING NEWS] Boy band Tomorrow By Together (TXT) has been in a car accident.
The boy band who recently released their Debut Single: Opening Sequence has been reported to have been a car accident. One member has come out unscathed, while the other three members are unconscious. EMT’s are currently on the scene and are trying to resuscitate the three boy band members.
The boy, who came out unscathed, has stated, “They told us the accident was caused by engine failure.” Investigators have yet to determine why the engine failure occurred.
The three boy band members are named: Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Huening Kai. The three are being transported to the hospital to receive further help for their injuries.
UPDATE: Investigators have determine the engine failure occurred from condiments ending up inside. The driver, currently unconscious, will be questioned upon recovery.
UPDATE: All three members have succumbed to their injuries. We are sending our deepest condolences to all friends and family members of those three boys.
You felt something hot sliding down your cheeks, bringing your hand to your cheeks; tears. You were crying while reading the article, sad hearing how short their career was. You seemed to understand why your mom never spoke about them. Obviously she was close with them, after what happened to them, it’s understandable why she would never want to speak of it again. You noticed as the song came to an end. Still, after it ended, the song started playing again; as if it was on a loop. “Shit, did I leave it on loop?” you run a hand through your hair, cursing under your breath, sniffling while doing so. You brought your finger close to the pause button, about to stop the music from playing on loop. But just as your finger neared the button, a cold gust of air filled the room. You covered your face, feeling the breeze go past you. You opened your eyes slightly, your mouth agape, noticing three boys had somehow popped out of thin air, causing everyone in the room to scream in unison.
“Who the fuck are you people!”
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