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bangtanexchange2015-06-12 03:06 pm
bangtanmod) wrote in bangtanexchange2015-06-12 03:06 pm
Entry tags:
05. i believe
Title: i believe
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cyphers
Pairing: Rap Monster/V
Rating: PG
Word count: 1.9k
Song used: Too Much, Do You
Warnings: n/a
Author's notes: someone rewrite this with more kissing. ANYWAY yes this is based on netizens being mean about v when he sang big bang during their second win and my own personal fantasy that rapmon helped him through it. happy second anniversary, BTS!!!!
Summary: It’s hard, being the leader. Which is why Namjoon has been watching Taehyung beat himself up for hours without getting up and doing anything about it.
It’s hard, being the leader. Namjoon had known when he agreed to it that there would be challenges, that pulling his authority over hyungs and corralling energetic dongsaengs would be challenging, but somehow he never realized just how emotionally draining it would be.
That thought alone is enough to make him shake his head and laugh, just to keep himself from hitting his head against the wall. Of course it is emotionally draining, you idiot, he thinks to himself. Everything about being an idol is emotionally draining. The early wake-up calls, the late bedtimes, the long practice hours, the unsatisfying meals, the lack of privacy, the hasty spaced-out phone calls with family, it’s all emotionally draining.
But being the leader, being tasked with moderating the moods of six other people when most days it’s difficult enough to moderate his own, this is harder than he could have ever imagined.
He understands the need for it, he understands the managers and coordi-noonas and other staff members have their own jobs to focus on and don’t have the time to ask the boys how their days were. With his IQ of 148 and exam ranking in the top 1.3% of the nation, Namjoon isn’t stupid.
And with his emotional tweets and more emotional songs and maybe too emotional journal entries, Namjoon isn’t a stranger to mood swings either. But where he used to be able to just sympathize with someone else’s problems from a distance and not actually get involved, now he’s expected to shove himself directly into every issue and solve it before it spreads, and he hates it.
He wants to be able to help his members out, he does. He wants nothing in the world more than the happiness of these six people whom he loves like brothers, but to be the one that makes it happen is…
It’s hard.
Which is why Namjoon has been sitting here watching Taehyung beat himself up for hours without getting up and doing anything about it.
***
Thursday night on M! Countdown had been such a fast, intense blur that if every second of it hadn’t been caught on tape, Namjoon is sure he wouldn’t believe it really happened.
But it did happen, and now a day later, he’s watching all those seconds of footage collected on YouTube and Naver. He’s watching them over and over again and trying to think of what to do, what he can possibly do or say to make this go away for Taehyung.
As he watches, he tries to block out the mental image of Taehyung standing there on stage earlier tonight, still and polite but utterly lifeless, as the group received their third win on Music Bank. He tries not to listen to the sounds of Taehyung crying in the next room, tries to ignore the Twitter notifications that keep pouring through in response to Taehyung’s tweet.
The tweet had been Seokjin’s idea, right down to the screenshot of Taehyung’s playlist, and Namjoon hopes it will work but isn’t convinced. More and more netizens keep coming up with worse and worse things to say, and Namjoon is frustrated by it.
He closes his laptop, throws his phone face-down onto his bed, and gets up to use the bathroom. He stills at Taehyung’s doorway on his way back and almost opens his mouth to say something, but what is there to say? I’m sorry everyone is being a dick to you for no reason and they’ll probably stop soon but that doesn’t mean you won’t remember it sometime six months from now when you’re happy and it will hurt just as much all over again?
He keeps walking and lies down to try to sleep.
***
Morning comes and Namjoon is up early, earlier than he needs to be. It’s still pitch-dark out, no sign of the sun starting to rise, no shrill cell phone alarms starting to go off. He’s tempted to roll over and try to get back some of the sleep that evaded him throughout the night.
Instead, though, he’s standing up and padding barefoot through the dorms to get a glass of water. On his way to the kitchen he pokes his head into each room, doing a quick headcount as if he really is a parent of all these unruly children, and notices there’s one less sleepy lump than there ought to be.
With a sigh, Namjoon braces himself and heads into the living room, where he finds the sixth lump curled up onto the couch, shaking a little with quiet sobs.
“Hey,” he whispers before nudging the lump over and lowering himself onto the edge of the couch.
Taehyung’s reply is another sob, slightly less muffled than the previous ones as he lifts his face from the pillow to see who’s there.
“Hey, sit up,” Namjoon whispers again, tapping on Taehyung’s shoulder. He pulls at Taehyung’s wrist, pulls until Taehyung is sitting upright, keeps pulling until Taehyung is lying across him with his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“I’m not going to ask you what’s wrong,” Namjoon starts, and he’s surprised that Taehyung’s next cry almost sounds like a laugh.
“Have you seen what they’re saying about me? They’re saying—”
“Stop it,” Namjoon says firmly. “Stop reading it.”
“But—” Taehyung starts again.
“But nothing, kid. If you’ve seen that, then you’ve seen what all the fans are saying in your defense. International ones, too. This will blow over in a few days.”
“How do you—”
“It will. Today we’re up against Big Bang on Show Champion, and they will win, and their fans will be quieted, and the earth will continue to spin. And then you can cheer the fuck up,” Namjoon says, forcing himself to sound upbeat and positive. “I think you’re starting to scare Hoseok.” You’re starting to scare me, Namjoon thinks.
“What if they don’t win?” Taehyung whispers, his voice thick with worry and gross snotty crying.
It would be a ludicrous thing to ask, Namjoon thinks, if he didn’t recognize the real question underneath it. What if the netizens don’t stop?
“Hey,” Namjoon says again, quieter. He strokes his hand along the side of Taehyung’s neck and over his shoulder and down his arm, over and over again, sitting quietly and letting Taehyung cry out this fresh round of tears.
“They will stop,” Namjoon says when Taehyung’s breathing starts to even out. “They really, really will. But even if they don’t… You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You at Music Bank last night? That wasn’t… that wasn’t you,” he finishes lamely.
“You heard the managers tell me to lie low and tone it down,” Taehyung says hollowly, and Namjoon wants to kick himself for not having had the balls to approach Taehyung about this yesterday. There’s no accusation in Taehyung’s voice, just a resigned sort of exhaustion, but Namjoon feels like he owes Taehyung more than this. Taehyung deserves to be happy about the success of this round of promotions, they all deserve it.
Namjoon sighs and leans over Taehyung, digs his hand under the couch pillow and finds exactly what he expected to find—the crumpled up fan letter, the letter, the first one he received when he was announced as a member of the group and read aloud over and over to anyone who would listen, and his phone with Namjoon’s own Too Much track stuck on repeat.
“Listen,” Namjoon says after a second. He holds up the phone and waves it around a little. “I get it. You know that I get it, more than any of the others. Which is why I’m telling you to trust me when I say it’s going to be fine.”
Taehyung sniffles loudly, wetly, against the side of Namjoon’s neck, and Namjoon is torn between rolling his eyes and kissing the top of Taehyung’s highlighted head. He decides on the latter.
“It says so right in the song, you idiot, don’t think about it too much,” Namjoon mutters into Taehyung’s hair. “Don’t you ever listen to your hyungs?”
He’s surprised when he feels Taehyung’s face crumple up again.
“I do listen,” Taehyung mumbles. “I listen all the time when Yoongi tells me to shut up and—”
“Oh my god, don’t listen to Yoongi,” Namjoon cuts him off. “Don’t listen to Yoongi, don’t listen to Jungkook, just don’t—don’t listen to anyone except me and Seokjin ever again.”
Taehyung laughs miserably.
“Anyway, didn’t you get the update? This song is outdated,” Namjoon says firmly, and Taehyung’s forehead crinkles in confusion before Namjoon deliberately clicks through to find Do You.
“Haters gon’ hate and players gon’ play,” Namjoon says through a crooked smile, pressing the phone back into Taehyung’s hand. “Not everyone is going to understand you of all people, Taehyungie, so you just have to focus on the ones that do, all right?”
Taehyung looks up at him through his tear-clumped eyelashes and Namjoon’s heart wrenches with the need to do anything he can to make this kid feel better.
“If you don’t want to listen to that, I give you permission to go back to cranking Killer.”
“But the vote—” Taehyung says immediately, sitting up eagerly in spite of himself.
“Screw the vote. I am the vote,” Namjoon says in his best leader voice. After a second he continues, “Nah, but I’ll let Yoongi sleep in or something in exchange. Give Jungkook the room for a night, maybe, so he can get up to whatever perverse shit he’s into with uninterrupted privacy.”
Taehyung laughs quietly, little more than a puff of hot air against Namjoon’s neck.
“Now come on,” Namjoon says. “Pull yourself together. The others are going to start waking up soon, and the coordi-noonas are already going to have a hell of a job getting rid of these circles.” He pokes at the swollen skin around Taehyung’s eyes to punctuate his point.
Taehyung burrows closer to Namjoon for a second before peeling himself away from the leader.
“Go wash up first,” Namjoon offers. “Start getting your shit together so we can leave for breakfast soon before practice.”
“Can we go to—”
“Be careful how you end that sentence, Kim Taehyung,” Namjoon warns. “You get one wish granted. I am your leader, not your god or genie.”
Taehyung looks at Namjoon with his best puppy dog eyes, amplified by the wet shine of tears, and Namjoon wants to kick himself again.
“Fine. I can’t give you breakfast choice, but I can give you Killer and 24 hours of dress-up with my closet.”
“Starting when?” Taehyung asks eagerly.
“Starting five minutes ago,” Namjoon answers, and is rewarded with the sight of Taehyung launching himself off of the couch and into the room Namjoon shares with Jungkook.
Namjoon smiles to himself and leans his head back, closing his eyes for a second before the inevitable yell from the maknae that will spread and wake the rest of the members. He’s surprised, then, when he feels a warm face mashed up against the side of his own, and opens his eyes to see Taehyung again.
“Thank you, hyung,” he says simply, squeezing Namjoon tightly before he runs back to Namjoon’s closet. Jungkook’s indignant yell sounds, as predicted, and tired members crawl out of their rooms to start the day.
Namjoon thinks to himself that it will be a better one than yesterday.
Author:
cyphersPairing: Rap Monster/V
Rating: PG
Word count: 1.9k
Song used: Too Much, Do You
Warnings: n/a
Author's notes: someone rewrite this with more kissing. ANYWAY yes this is based on netizens being mean about v when he sang big bang during their second win and my own personal fantasy that rapmon helped him through it. happy second anniversary, BTS!!!!
Summary: It’s hard, being the leader. Which is why Namjoon has been watching Taehyung beat himself up for hours without getting up and doing anything about it.
It’s hard, being the leader. Namjoon had known when he agreed to it that there would be challenges, that pulling his authority over hyungs and corralling energetic dongsaengs would be challenging, but somehow he never realized just how emotionally draining it would be.
That thought alone is enough to make him shake his head and laugh, just to keep himself from hitting his head against the wall. Of course it is emotionally draining, you idiot, he thinks to himself. Everything about being an idol is emotionally draining. The early wake-up calls, the late bedtimes, the long practice hours, the unsatisfying meals, the lack of privacy, the hasty spaced-out phone calls with family, it’s all emotionally draining.
But being the leader, being tasked with moderating the moods of six other people when most days it’s difficult enough to moderate his own, this is harder than he could have ever imagined.
He understands the need for it, he understands the managers and coordi-noonas and other staff members have their own jobs to focus on and don’t have the time to ask the boys how their days were. With his IQ of 148 and exam ranking in the top 1.3% of the nation, Namjoon isn’t stupid.
And with his emotional tweets and more emotional songs and maybe too emotional journal entries, Namjoon isn’t a stranger to mood swings either. But where he used to be able to just sympathize with someone else’s problems from a distance and not actually get involved, now he’s expected to shove himself directly into every issue and solve it before it spreads, and he hates it.
He wants to be able to help his members out, he does. He wants nothing in the world more than the happiness of these six people whom he loves like brothers, but to be the one that makes it happen is…
It’s hard.
Which is why Namjoon has been sitting here watching Taehyung beat himself up for hours without getting up and doing anything about it.
***
Thursday night on M! Countdown had been such a fast, intense blur that if every second of it hadn’t been caught on tape, Namjoon is sure he wouldn’t believe it really happened.
But it did happen, and now a day later, he’s watching all those seconds of footage collected on YouTube and Naver. He’s watching them over and over again and trying to think of what to do, what he can possibly do or say to make this go away for Taehyung.
As he watches, he tries to block out the mental image of Taehyung standing there on stage earlier tonight, still and polite but utterly lifeless, as the group received their third win on Music Bank. He tries not to listen to the sounds of Taehyung crying in the next room, tries to ignore the Twitter notifications that keep pouring through in response to Taehyung’s tweet.
The tweet had been Seokjin’s idea, right down to the screenshot of Taehyung’s playlist, and Namjoon hopes it will work but isn’t convinced. More and more netizens keep coming up with worse and worse things to say, and Namjoon is frustrated by it.
He closes his laptop, throws his phone face-down onto his bed, and gets up to use the bathroom. He stills at Taehyung’s doorway on his way back and almost opens his mouth to say something, but what is there to say? I’m sorry everyone is being a dick to you for no reason and they’ll probably stop soon but that doesn’t mean you won’t remember it sometime six months from now when you’re happy and it will hurt just as much all over again?
He keeps walking and lies down to try to sleep.
***
Morning comes and Namjoon is up early, earlier than he needs to be. It’s still pitch-dark out, no sign of the sun starting to rise, no shrill cell phone alarms starting to go off. He’s tempted to roll over and try to get back some of the sleep that evaded him throughout the night.
Instead, though, he’s standing up and padding barefoot through the dorms to get a glass of water. On his way to the kitchen he pokes his head into each room, doing a quick headcount as if he really is a parent of all these unruly children, and notices there’s one less sleepy lump than there ought to be.
With a sigh, Namjoon braces himself and heads into the living room, where he finds the sixth lump curled up onto the couch, shaking a little with quiet sobs.
“Hey,” he whispers before nudging the lump over and lowering himself onto the edge of the couch.
Taehyung’s reply is another sob, slightly less muffled than the previous ones as he lifts his face from the pillow to see who’s there.
“Hey, sit up,” Namjoon whispers again, tapping on Taehyung’s shoulder. He pulls at Taehyung’s wrist, pulls until Taehyung is sitting upright, keeps pulling until Taehyung is lying across him with his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“I’m not going to ask you what’s wrong,” Namjoon starts, and he’s surprised that Taehyung’s next cry almost sounds like a laugh.
“Have you seen what they’re saying about me? They’re saying—”
“Stop it,” Namjoon says firmly. “Stop reading it.”
“But—” Taehyung starts again.
“But nothing, kid. If you’ve seen that, then you’ve seen what all the fans are saying in your defense. International ones, too. This will blow over in a few days.”
“How do you—”
“It will. Today we’re up against Big Bang on Show Champion, and they will win, and their fans will be quieted, and the earth will continue to spin. And then you can cheer the fuck up,” Namjoon says, forcing himself to sound upbeat and positive. “I think you’re starting to scare Hoseok.” You’re starting to scare me, Namjoon thinks.
“What if they don’t win?” Taehyung whispers, his voice thick with worry and gross snotty crying.
It would be a ludicrous thing to ask, Namjoon thinks, if he didn’t recognize the real question underneath it. What if the netizens don’t stop?
“Hey,” Namjoon says again, quieter. He strokes his hand along the side of Taehyung’s neck and over his shoulder and down his arm, over and over again, sitting quietly and letting Taehyung cry out this fresh round of tears.
“They will stop,” Namjoon says when Taehyung’s breathing starts to even out. “They really, really will. But even if they don’t… You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You at Music Bank last night? That wasn’t… that wasn’t you,” he finishes lamely.
“You heard the managers tell me to lie low and tone it down,” Taehyung says hollowly, and Namjoon wants to kick himself for not having had the balls to approach Taehyung about this yesterday. There’s no accusation in Taehyung’s voice, just a resigned sort of exhaustion, but Namjoon feels like he owes Taehyung more than this. Taehyung deserves to be happy about the success of this round of promotions, they all deserve it.
Namjoon sighs and leans over Taehyung, digs his hand under the couch pillow and finds exactly what he expected to find—the crumpled up fan letter, the letter, the first one he received when he was announced as a member of the group and read aloud over and over to anyone who would listen, and his phone with Namjoon’s own Too Much track stuck on repeat.
“Listen,” Namjoon says after a second. He holds up the phone and waves it around a little. “I get it. You know that I get it, more than any of the others. Which is why I’m telling you to trust me when I say it’s going to be fine.”
Taehyung sniffles loudly, wetly, against the side of Namjoon’s neck, and Namjoon is torn between rolling his eyes and kissing the top of Taehyung’s highlighted head. He decides on the latter.
“It says so right in the song, you idiot, don’t think about it too much,” Namjoon mutters into Taehyung’s hair. “Don’t you ever listen to your hyungs?”
He’s surprised when he feels Taehyung’s face crumple up again.
“I do listen,” Taehyung mumbles. “I listen all the time when Yoongi tells me to shut up and—”
“Oh my god, don’t listen to Yoongi,” Namjoon cuts him off. “Don’t listen to Yoongi, don’t listen to Jungkook, just don’t—don’t listen to anyone except me and Seokjin ever again.”
Taehyung laughs miserably.
“Anyway, didn’t you get the update? This song is outdated,” Namjoon says firmly, and Taehyung’s forehead crinkles in confusion before Namjoon deliberately clicks through to find Do You.
“Haters gon’ hate and players gon’ play,” Namjoon says through a crooked smile, pressing the phone back into Taehyung’s hand. “Not everyone is going to understand you of all people, Taehyungie, so you just have to focus on the ones that do, all right?”
Taehyung looks up at him through his tear-clumped eyelashes and Namjoon’s heart wrenches with the need to do anything he can to make this kid feel better.
“If you don’t want to listen to that, I give you permission to go back to cranking Killer.”
“But the vote—” Taehyung says immediately, sitting up eagerly in spite of himself.
“Screw the vote. I am the vote,” Namjoon says in his best leader voice. After a second he continues, “Nah, but I’ll let Yoongi sleep in or something in exchange. Give Jungkook the room for a night, maybe, so he can get up to whatever perverse shit he’s into with uninterrupted privacy.”
Taehyung laughs quietly, little more than a puff of hot air against Namjoon’s neck.
“Now come on,” Namjoon says. “Pull yourself together. The others are going to start waking up soon, and the coordi-noonas are already going to have a hell of a job getting rid of these circles.” He pokes at the swollen skin around Taehyung’s eyes to punctuate his point.
Taehyung burrows closer to Namjoon for a second before peeling himself away from the leader.
“Go wash up first,” Namjoon offers. “Start getting your shit together so we can leave for breakfast soon before practice.”
“Can we go to—”
“Be careful how you end that sentence, Kim Taehyung,” Namjoon warns. “You get one wish granted. I am your leader, not your god or genie.”
Taehyung looks at Namjoon with his best puppy dog eyes, amplified by the wet shine of tears, and Namjoon wants to kick himself again.
“Fine. I can’t give you breakfast choice, but I can give you Killer and 24 hours of dress-up with my closet.”
“Starting when?” Taehyung asks eagerly.
“Starting five minutes ago,” Namjoon answers, and is rewarded with the sight of Taehyung launching himself off of the couch and into the room Namjoon shares with Jungkook.
Namjoon smiles to himself and leans his head back, closing his eyes for a second before the inevitable yell from the maknae that will spread and wake the rest of the members. He’s surprised, then, when he feels a warm face mashed up against the side of his own, and opens his eyes to see Taehyung again.
“Thank you, hyung,” he says simply, squeezing Namjoon tightly before he runs back to Namjoon’s closet. Jungkook’s indignant yell sounds, as predicted, and tired members crawl out of their rooms to start the day.
Namjoon thinks to himself that it will be a better one than yesterday.