Chapter Text
Pre-Season Testing
Occurs after Winter Break before the first race of each season. Pre-season testing is conducted so that teams can solidify their base car as cars can only be tweaked a certain number of times during the season after which the drivers get penalties.
“So, we need to fly to Singapore right after the concert?” He asked, head of now teal hair tilted to the side in confusion.
Kim Taehyung wasn’t Korea’s most popular solo artist for no reason. Taehyung spent years busting his ass at a small company with few other acts that flopped and didn’t make it to syndication. The pressure to deliver results came hand in hand with the pressure to keep the company from shutting down. All the years of practice and work and losing sleep making songs eventually paying off and shooting him up to the number one spot in Korea’s long list of KPop acts.
Taehyung’s fame led to the release of two albums; Stigma and Singularity which he was promoting through his world tour. He’s on his last few weeks of his tour, just doing some concerts in Europe before wrapping up and starting work on his new album.
Most of it was thanks to the help of his staff. He’d met his two producers, Yoongi and Namjoon, early into his career. For a long time, it was all three of them against the world. Yoongi and Namjoon taught him everything he knew about producing music.
“That’s right. But, don’t worry about it. We’ll be ready with the jet by then. It’s short notice so the paps won’t catch on and there won’t be a lot of people at the airport.” Jin informed, still tapping away at his phone.
And with Kim Seokjin as his manager, he maximised every opportunity to make their music known to the world.
Taehyung is grateful… most of the time.
“Hyung, we’ve been touring non-stop.” Taehyung groaned.
Jin looked at him then at his phone then at him before shutting his phone up and saying very seriously “Taehyung, this is the Singapore Grand Prix”.
And Taehyung knew.
The Singapore Grand Prix was one of the highlight races of the year in Formula 1 racing. And Formula 1 is the pinnacle of motorsports. It’s the elitest of the elite. Artists that perform are artists that have luxury in their names. Taehyung knows how much it will boost his popularity not personally but from everything Jin has told him in an effort to convince him to consider it.
“Look, if you don’t want to then you don’t.” Jin shrugs and that’s what Taehyung loves about Jin. He isn’t as pushy as other managers and he knows it, that he’s lucky to have someone as considerate as Jin even though he has to take lots of crap for it from the higher ups. “But I want you to look into it. Really look at the opportunities it will give you.”
And with that, Jin was gone.
Taehyung collapses back into his couch and stays there, watching a couple of episodes of Haikyuu on his Smart TV.
Taehyung knew very little about racing other than the fact that people make a living out of it. He didn’t know it’s necessity or it’s history. As far as racing is concerned he’s lived completely out of that field of expertise and that’s understandable. It didn’t even make the news in Korea that much since there wasn’t even a Korean racer of note.
Eventually he decides to shuffle through the new Netflix movies, stumbling across some new ones with racing themes.
The biggest reason for his fears isn’t that he’ll be talented enough to perform. That’s not a question. His years of performing have boosted his confidence. He knows exactly where he stands in performing.
He manages to get through the introduction of a film named Rush before he hears the screech of tyres and sees a burst of flame and he’s shutting his television off faster than he can blink.
Behind closed eyelids, he hears the screech of tyres as they slide across wet asphalt desperately clinging, fighting against the force that threw the car forward when it wanted to stop. The color and shadows of flames from a fire that burned and sizzled out years ago. His ears ringing with pained gasps and soft cries from a time when his small hands could affect nothing and save nothing and hold nothing.
He opens his eyes to night falling as he sat curled up on the floor next to his couch and he comes back to himself.
Kim Taehyung, Korea’s most popular solo artist, is 23 years old and he doesn’t drive, only trusts Jin to drive if he has to go somewhere, and will never trust anyone behind a wheel. Never again.