Minjeong had always been proud of her high grades, loving the praises that came with such results. So imagine her rage when said praises started to divert to the bespectacled girl who always sat at the back of her classes. Yu Jimin, or her great archnemesis, who also somehow happened to be a hot drummer at night? Minjeong needs a nap. And Jimin. Or maybe both, unfortunately.
The air inside the live house was a mix of stuffiness and sweat, mixed with the deafening sound of basses thundering against the walls, making them violently throb. With its dim lightning and damaged floor, this place might have just been considered as the accurate representation of what Hell could look like. At least, in any sane person’s opinion.
And it was certainly not a place where Kim Minjeong should be seen in.
Yet there she was, uncomfortably pressed between a drunk punk girl and a sweaty jock who seemed to not even notice her odd presence in this atypical world. The strong scents around her felt overwhelming, and Minjeong felt dirty just from standing on this sticky floor.
(Just the thought of her precious Mary Janes having to come into contact with this suspicious floor was enough to make her want to faint. But Minjeong had to hold it in and swallow her pride.)
If anyone asked Minjeong whether she belonged there, she would have laughed straight in their face. Because Kim Minjeong thrived in admirative glances and polished atmospheres, not in whatever this live house was.
Yet, she was still there, expectantly waiting for the next band to show up on stage.
Not because she particularly wanted to –Minjeong had better things to do in her life than standing in a smelly live house waiting for a band whose music she didn’t even care about. But because her friends dragged her there, babbling about how this new band looked promising and whatnot. It was not like Minjeong really listened to them anyways.
She just wanted to go home. Maybe she could take a warm bath while blasting some pop songs –real music to her ears!– rather than whatever emo songs her friends forced her to come listen to.
But now that she was there, she couldn’t really run away. She had lost her friends in the crowd anyway, and it didn’t seem like things would calm down soon. Because as soon as the name of the next band was announced, people came in, rushing like dogs after hearing the sound of their favorite treat pouch.
What was so interesting about that band anyways? Minjeong huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. This was ridiculous, really. She should just go home and–
The lights suddenly turned off, leaving room for a singular white neon shining over the stage. Minjeong didn’t even have the time to take a breath when the people around her began to hurl like wild animals.
Minjeong’s brows furrowed as she kept her eyes trained on the stage. What was so exciting about this band, really? It wasn’t like they were superstars or something.
“They’re coming!” loudly whispered the jock guy next to her, his pungent smell making Minjeong scrunch her nose in disgust.
“What are you tal–”
“Jimin!!” shouted the punk girl next to her, harshly pushing Minjeong to the side so she could take a step closer to the stage.
Minjeong was beyond baffled. “What the– come back here!” she yelled, following after the girl to give her a piece of her mind.
But her movements were immediately stopped by the sound of cymbals echoing through the whole room.
There, on stage, stood four women, each holding a different instrument. And at the far right of the stage, shining under a white spotlight, sat a raven haired woman, surrounded by her drums.
“Jimin!!”
“Jimin, over here!”
Jimin?
Minjeong’s steps immediately halted, as if suddenly frozen in place. That name sounded awfully familiar, yet the sole thought of it was awfully irritating for her mind. Or at least, she didn’t want to think that this was the ‘Jimin’ she thought about.
Minjeong whipped her head up, her gaze focused on the stage. And particularly on the drummer, who seemed to relish on the praises from the crowd. Her messy raven locks partially hid her face, but Minjeong could easily notice her proud grin.
“Jimin I love you!” squealed a girl next to her, pushing Minjeong as well. But at that point, Minjeong did not even care.
Because as she looked at the drummer, she realized something. Something horrifying.
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