Chapter Text
Jung Hoseok, former Idol, former playboy millionaire and former somebody sat at the bar in a noisy, smoky club somewhere in the back streets of Seoul. He was slumped over with his head resting on his folded arms Around him the crowd jostled, shouting above the pulsing music in order to be heard. They pushed and shoved, their drinks slopping over his designer label suit.
"Hey! You're drinking or paying rent. Pick one." The barman yelled, slapping his hand down in front of Hoseok, making him jump. "You're not sleeping here for free, man."
Blinking slowly and swaying on the tall bar stool, the former idol searched his pockets for his wallet. He pulled out a few crumpled notes and tossed them down on the wet bar. “Scotch.” He slurred, fighting to focus on the small glass in front of him as it was filled with amber liquid.
“If this is all you’ve got,” the barman shouted. “That’s your last one. So, drink up and fuck off.”
Hoseok downed the shot and shakily got off the stool. "It's been a pleasure, you arsehole." He mumbled as he pushed and shoved his way out of the bar and onto the equally crowd nighttime streets.
The cold air hit him, making his breath catch in his throat. He coughed and staggered a little before righting himself. He weaved his way through the crowd. Passersby calling out as he bumped into them and staggered away without apologizing. This town had once been his playground. Years before he’d been a VIP guest of high-end clubs and famous restaurants. Now his destination was a cheap hotel situated in one of the many narrow backstreets.
The night receptionist, a youth no more than twenty sighed loudly as Hoseok stumbled into the foyer. "I'm sorry, Mr Jung. You can’t stay here anymore. The Manager has packed your stuff-“ he dumped a blue backpack on the desk. “You’re bill is outstanding. He’s threatening to take legal action if you don’t pay up tonight.”
Hoseok leaned heavily against the front desk. Alcohol fumes rising from him in waves. “I’ve not got any money.” He said, still trying to focus. “I did. Once upon a time. I had fucking shit tonnes of money. But not now.”
“Then you’re gonna have to leave.”
“I was an Idol once. Biggest in the fucking world.”
The youth cast disbelieving eyes over him. Noting the stains on his suit and his generally unkempt appearance. "Yeah? Which band?"
Hoseok puffed his chest a little. "Bangtan Sonyeondan." He said proudly, swaying to the left.
The youth blinked slowly, "Never heard of them."
"We filled stadiums! Had number one albums! I've seen the whole fucking world!" He picked up his backpack and then dropped it to the floor. “Hundreds of thousands of fans screamed my na-name.” He Hiccupped, poking himself in the chest. “I taught a generation to dance.”
“Which generation?”
“I’ve met world fucking leaders and-and royalty. I have. I’ve met all of them.”
“Could you call one? Maybe they could pay your bill.” The youth sniggered.
“I played Lollapalooza-“
“You really are drunk, aren’t you?”
“You calling me a liar?” Hoseok pointed his finger into the receptionist’s face. “Fucking look it up. Go on. I’m on YouTube.” He jabbed his finger at the computer. “Look up J Hope. Go on. On YouTube”
“My Nan’s got stuff on YouTube. It doesn’t make her an Idol. Anyway, it's either pay the outstanding amount or leave." He unwrapped a piece of gum and popped it in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously.
“Me and-and the members, we played Time Square. Millions of people watched that. That’ll be on YouTube.” He jabbed at the computer again. “Look it up.”
Sighing loudly, the youth leaned on the desk. "Look, Mr I-used-to-be-an-Idol-but-now-I’m-broke. I don't really care what you did fifty years ago. Are you paying your bill or not?"
Snorting a drunken laugh, the former Idol leaned forward on the high desk, grinning in the receptionist' face. “You can shove your bill right up your manager's ass." He patted the young man's cheek before picking up his bag and on shaky legs wobbled back out of the building and into the night.
Throwing the backpack over his shoulder he wandered down through the city. Even at this time of night the place hummed with life. Bars and clubs vibrated with music and loud voices. Bright lights and the smell of food swirled around him as he walked, bumping into random people and waving their complaints away, down to a place he used to know so well.
He stepped off the curb, narrowly missing being hit by the on coming traffic and looked up at a tall office block. It was the headquarters of the record label he'd been signed to for years, Big Hit. Around the building, on huge billboards hung posters of the new acts. Fresh, young face smiled down at him.
"Yeah, you wait!" He yelled at the pictures. Cars blasting their horns at him as they swerved to avoid him. "They'll screw you over too!”
“Get out of the road, you idiot!” A driver yelled.
“They think it’s all Gucci freebies and golden handshakes.” He screamed at the gesticulating driver. “But wait ‘til you need their help.”
Another driver told him to move.
“That bunch of arseholes-“ He waved his hand at the building, staggering backwards as a car missed him by an inch. “Soon as you need them-“
A security guard looked at him from behind the large glass doors.
“Yeah, I see you. “ Hoseok stumbled out of the road and into the crowd again. All of them moving to avoid the madman. “I see you, Mr Bang P.D. You didn’t have to side with the bitch!”
The door opened and the guard came out. "Move on, before you get hurt." The burly guard shouted.
"I used to pay your wages, mate!" Hoseok pointed a finger at the man, dropping his backpack to the floor again. "I deserve respect."
"Yeah, whatever, just move on." The guard said, gesturing down the road.
Hoseok flipped him the finger, picked up his bag and staggered away from the building. As he neared the entrance of the company carpark he stopped again. A passerby careered into him and bounced off. Hoseok fell backwards into the road. A car screeched to a stop. So close to him he could feel the heat from the engine on his legs.
"The fuck you doing?" He yelled as he turned to face the car. He smacked his hand on the bonnet. “You could’ve killed me.” He wobbled sideways.
The driver's door opened and the driver climbed out.
"I'm fucking walking here, numb nuts." The drunk smacked the bonnet again.
"In the middle of the fuck- Hobi? What the fuck you doing?" The driver stared.
Hoseok squinted before a huge smile flooded his bright red face. "Yoongalls!" He staggered to the driver, throwing his arms round the stunned man.
The smaller, slightly thicker set man gingerly patted the drunk's back. "What are you doing here?"
"Did you know; what happens in Vegas doesn't actually stay in Vegas? Did you know that, Yoongi? Cos I fucking didn't!" Hoseok wobbled again. "It's fucking legally binding!"
Yoongi looked blankly at him.
"It's real. They mean it. No one told me, I thought it was just- you know, for show."
"I'm gonna guess you got married there?"
Hoseok nodded. "Some Elvis im- impersonator said something like 'do you take?' and I said 'yeah, why not?' And a year later the bitch did just that! She fucking took! Everything!" Hoseok burped loudly and swallowed hard, pulling a face. "Ugh. That was a watery one."
Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's really late and I really need to go. Can I give you a lift anywhere?"
"Two years, Yoongalls. Two whole years I've been fighting this. But today the judge took everything! I was only with the silly tart for, what? A year, not even that. And she gets the lot. You married, Yoongs?"
He shook his head.
"No. No of course not, you're not stupid. I am.” He poked himself in the chest as people stared at them as they passed. “I'm really stupid. Married some sexy assed, big titted, fit as fuck girl who now lives in my house." Hoseok burped again. "-with her new boyfriend. Bet he's having a piss in my pool-“ he paused. "Right now." He pointed to the floor and leaned heavily to the right. “Where am I gonna piss, Yoongalls? I’ve not got a pot to piss in. Not anymore.”
"Hobi, as much as I'd love to hear about how fucked up your life is, I have to go. It's been a long day and I need to sleep. Can I drop you off anywhere?"
"Yeah. That would be great." The drunk grinned. "you're a great guy, Yoongalls. Did I ever tell you that? You look great too. Really well. A bit-“ He jabbed his finger into Yoongi’s belly. “-chubby. But well."
Yoongi groaned. "C'mon, just get in the car." He took his arm and helped him walk to the passenger side. He opened the door and Hoseok all but fell into the seat. "Ok, where to?" He asked as he got back into the drivers' seat. Glancing to the side, he found Hoseok slumped against the door. Out cold.
"Great." He muttered, angrily. "Just fucking great."
Twenty minutes later, Yoongi struggled to get the semi-conscious Hoseok out of his car. Half dragging, half carrying him, he made his way into the apartment complex. At the main security desk the night watchman cocked an eyebrow as Yoongi came in.
"Evening, Mr Lee." Yoongi said as he struggled passed.
"Friend of yours?" The guard asked watching the tenet manhandle the drunk towards the lift.
Yoongi nodded, trying to hold the dead weight in one arm as he pushed the button. “Apparently.” He muttered as Hoseok slipped in his grasp.
"Don't often see you have guests, Mr Min."
The door opened and Yoongi dragged Hoseok inside. "I don't like having guests, Mr Lee." He called as the doors closed.
It took a huge effort to unlock his front door and not drop the body hanging in his arms. He thought for a split second about just dropping him and leaving him on the slightly grubby carpet of the landing. But in the end, he dragged him into his apartment and dumping him on his sofa.
"Five years of nothing, then you show up drunk." Yoongi said to himself as he threw a blanket on his old band mate. "Really don't need this right now."
With one last look at the now snoring drunk, Yoongi took himself to bed. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the chair in the corner of his bedroom. Laying on the bed in just his jeans, he stared at the dark ceiling.
It had been five years since it had all come crashing down. The final throes had been painful for all seven of them. That final fight had sealed their fate and ended the careers of the most popular boy band in the world. He sighed loudly and rolled over. Reaching to the bottom drawer of his nightstand. He pulled it open and took out a plastic strip of pills. He squeezed two out and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them down.
He closed his eyes. He didn’t miss any of it. The endless tours. The crippling hours of training. The near starvation diets they all had to follow to keep them within the ‘standard’. And the torturous schedules that had them flying from one side of the planet to the other. No. He didn’t miss it. He was glad it was over.
But he did miss Him. He missed Him so much.
An alarm buzzed loudly from a different nightstand. In a different part of the city. Kim Namjoon snaked his arm out from under the covers and slapped it a few times until the noise finally stopped. Beside him, groaning softly, lay his husband of three years, Seokjin. Dragging himself from bed, Namjoon padded to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
He stood beneath the slightly too hot water of the shower and rested his head against the white tiled wall. The thought of another day of meetings, appointments and paperwork had once been a welcome relief to the heavily physical workload of being an Idol. But now it was just pure effort to get out of bed and go to the office.
Four years ago it all seems such a good idea; the world of Corporate Finance had called out to him. His renowned intellect and fame had opened a lot of doors after the band broke up. And in the beginning, it was fun. High stakes, high power fun. Without the strict rules of the Idol Industry .But now- He heard the door open and Jin came in.
They'd married in Malta, a private ceremony attended only by a few family and friends. Outside of their close circle, not many knew they had tied the knot. Years in the music industry had taught them how to disguise themselves. How to conduct themselves. Never giving themselves away to the hordes of besotted fans who could turn like rabid dogs if they thought their favourite was dating or even mildly interested in someone. It was a skill they’d had to bring with them into their new life.
"Hurry up, Joon. I've got a meeting." Jin whined from outside of the cubicle.
Namjoon opened the door. "You can join me if you want?" He grinned.
Jin tutted and turned away. “I’ve not got time for this, just hurry up."
Closing the door, Joon sighed. The last few years had been rough. And it didn't seem to be getting any better. Thirty minutes later, they were both in the kitchen.
"Do I look ok?" Jin asked smoothing his shirt. Dressed in perfectly fitted black trousers and white shirt, he looked as beautiful as he ever did.
"You look great." Namjoon told him without looking up from the finance section of his morning paper.
"Hey!" Jin slapped the paper from his hands, making him jump. "Try actually looking at me!"
"Fuck sake, Jin! You look amazing, you already know that."
“Jeez, Joon. At least pretend you mean it.” Jin straightened his shirt. "This is so important to me. I've got to get this right." He checked out his reflection in the kitchen window. "If I can get these people on board, I might be able to save the restaurant."
"Jinnie, maybe it’s time to just let it go. You've poured everything into the place and it's still not turning a profit. Just quit, before you lose everything. Sell it on." Namjoon tried to reason.
Jin stared at him. "I'm not quitting, Joon. I can make it work. I just need a little breathing space. Just 'til the new book comes out."
Namjoon bit his tongue. There was no point in trying to make him see sense.
"I'll see you at lunch." Jin leaned in a pressed a kiss to his head. "Wish me luck."
Namjoon nodded. "Yeah, good luck, baby. I'll see you at twelve thirty."
With one last glance at his perfect reflection, Jin hurried off to his meeting.
Namjoon bent down and picked up the few scattered pages of his paper. Placing them neatly on the table. Drinking the last of his now lukewarm coffee, he stared out of the window. Jin had published three books; two recipe books and a short biography of his time in the music industry. Of all the members, Jin had been the one to cash in the most on the celebrity market. Doing interviews and guest spots. His books were well received at first; ARMY lapping up the last dregs of the band before they tired of the nostalgia and moved on to newer, younger and more active bands.
The restaurant had been a lifelong dream of Jin’s. Unfortunately, the timing couldn't have been worse. The recession had left most people struggling to pay bills and buy food. No one was interested in an ex-Idol's overpriced, overrated sushi bar. But Jin was determined. He wouldn't listen to anyone, including his husband.
The new book: a tell all insight into the whole band had hit a real problem. The legal teams had told Jin he could be facing five different lawsuits if he went ahead with it. The other band members could sue his arse right off if he tried to publish it. He'd agreed to rewrite some of the more controversial parts, toning them down into something less damning. All the while Namjoon had pleaded with him not to do it. But again, Jin wouldn't listen. He needed to finance the restaurant and he was prepared to sell band secrets to do it.
Namjoon's office was a stunning affair. Situated in a brand-new building in the middle of the city. The place hummed with life. You could almost smell the money being made here. The ground floor was home to a vast set up dealing with stocks and bonds. The place echoed with the sound of brokers calling prices. Huge screens changing every few seconds as companies prospered or failed. Futures were made or broken here.
In his office with the door closed, the noise of the stock floor was a distant hum. Namjoon stared out of the huge picture window. The view itself was worth millions. And he hated it. He hated the desk. The chair, the thick carpet. Everything. He missed the view from their old dorm. The noise of the boys laughing, singing, even arguing. He missed them. Despite the way things ended. How angry and violent it had become in those final moments. He missed them.
He'd never admit it to Jin. But he missed the life he had before. Not the money or the fame. But the company of the five other guys he'd grown up with. Shared the world with. He didn't miss having to nearly starve to death before a big come back. Or the hours of training; going over and over the same routines until his body ached and his head swam. But he missed writing music. He missed the feelings of exhilaration when fifty thousand fans stood in a darkened arena, singing his words back to him. He missed the lights and the noise.
"Mr Kim? Mr Kim, your nine thirty is here." A small voice broke through his thoughts.
Blinking, he turned to his secretary. "Yes, sorry. Send them in." He said and sat at the desk he hated.
Jin smiled the smile that had brought fans to their knees all over the world. But it didn't have the same effect on his potential investors. They sat, stony faced at a table in his restaurant. Jin laid out his plans for the future as his waiters kept a steady stream of food and drinks coming.
Two and a half hours later, Jin sat at the table alone. Not one of them were prepared to invest in his business. Not one of them was ready to take such a gamble. He swallowed the last of the wine in his glass and huffed.
"Any luck?" Asked his head waiter, a young man called Jaehyo.
Jin licked his lips and smiled. "They're thinking about it." He lied. “They're gonna let me know tomorrow."
The waiter nodded and cleared the last of the place settings away leaving Jin at an empty table in an empty restaurant.
The sudden ringing of his mobile snapped him out of his thoughts. Glancing at the caller I.D, he grinned. It was his editor. "Milo, good to hear from you." He smiled into the phone.
"Seokjin, we've had the second read through of your manuscript."
"It's hot shit, isn't it? The fans will love it." Jin gushed. "No one’s ever revealed this stuff to the public before.”
“Because no one wanted to be sued this much before!” The editor growled down the line. “It’s not just the other members who’ll start court proceedings. The label owner and the managers will crucify you and us if this goes to print. Jin, it’s scathing!”
“I think you’re being a little dramatic-“
"I told you to tone it down! If anything, you've just made it more controversial. I've taken legal advice and, frankly, it’s too bigger risk for us to take. They could sue us for millions. I'm sorry, Seokjin."
Jin huffed angrily. "Seriously? You're refusing to publish. You're scared to?"
"They'd have us in a libel case faster than you can blink. We can't stand against one of the biggest music companies in Asia. I'm sorry. But we'll not be publishing this."
"Fine! I'll take it elsewhere." Jin snapped.
"Be my guest. I hope you find an editor ready to risk his livelihood, because I'm not."
Jin stabbed at the screen of his phone with his finger, ending the call. He threw it onto the table and held his face in his hands.
"Jin, you ok, baby?"
He looked up into the concerned face of his husband. "The investors won't help and now my editor won't publish the book. I'm fucked unless you'll help me, Joonie."
Namjoon sat down. "I've told you before, I'm not investing in this place. It's a money pit, Jin. It's running at a loss and has been for the last year and half. Cut your losses and get out while you can."
"No. There has to be a way to finance this. Can we put the house-“
“No.” Joon stated firmly. “You’re not using our home as collateral.”
“ Well, I'm not going to quit."
“Unless you can find backers, you're going to sink. And nothing will pull you up."
Hoseok rolled off the strange sofa and landed heavily on the hard, wooden floor. He turned over onto his back and lay groaning and blinking slowly for a few minutes. He couldn't remember getting here. Wherever here was. He couldn't remember much after the bar. His head ached. Most of his body ached. His stomach knotted and twisted. Reminding him of just how much he’d drunk.
"Planning on laying on my floor all day?" Asked a soft voice.
He strained to sit up. Getting halfway before collapsing back down with a loud moan.
"C'mon, I've made you some coffee.” Said the same voice.
"Just put it next to me with a straw. Thanks." He groaned, noticing his tongue felt dry and weird in his mouth.
"Hobi, get off the floor and stop being an arse."
A face appeared above him. He smiled up at it. "Yoongalls, been a long time."
"It's been ten hours, dip shit. Up you get." Holding out a hand, Yoongi dragged the hungover wreck up and over the kitchen counter.
A few minutes later Hoseok held the warm cup in his hands, taking small sips.
"So, you wanna tell me what the fuck all this is about?" Yoongi hopped up onto a bar stool and sat next to him.
Hoseok played with the cup for a moment. "I fucked shit up badly, Yoongs. I've lost everything, the house, the cars, the lot. Court even awarded my ex all my Royalties."
"Shit, man. I'm sorry."
Hoseok shrugged. "It's my own stupid fault. I honestly didn't realise I was actually married to her. So, there was no Pre Nup. And I kinda fucked around a bit. But I didn't expect to lose the lot." He took another long drink from the cup. The coffee easing his headache a little. "Everything we make off every album now goes to her. Not that I was making a lot from them. Sales fell away pretty sharply a few years ago."
Yoongi nodded. "Have you got money invested or saved?"
Hoseok laughed. "Nope. I've got nothing. Everything I had was in property and a garage full of classic and luxury cars. She's got them all now."
Sighing, Yoongi got up and took the cafetiere from the side and refilled their cups. "What will you do now?"
"No idea."
"Where are you going to stay?"
Hoseok shrugged. They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Yoongs, how did I get here? And where is here?”
Yoongi laughed quietly. "I nearly ran you over outside of the Big Hit building and 'here' is my home. You're in Gangnam."
"Why was I at Big Hit? I haven't done anything else stupid, have I? Apart from the stuff I’ve already done, I mean.”
Yoongi shrugged. “You were in the middle of the road, yelling."
Hoseok groaned again and dropped his head on the countertop. "I'm a dick."
"Yeah, I know." Smiled Yoongi, drinking his coffee.
"Do you still talk to any of the others?" Hoseok asked, not looking up.
"No, I've not heard from anyone in a long time." Yoongi said, sitting back against the low back of the chair. "You?"
"I spoke to Joon about three years ago. Saw him and Jin in a restaurant in Berlin. We passed the pleasantries. Well, me and Joon did. Jin pretend I wasn't there." He looked up again. "You don't hear from Jimin, then?"
Yoongi stiffened.
"I know you two were really close. For a long time."
Yoongi looked away. "I've not heard from him.” He said quietly.
"I always thought you two would've been together forever." A small smile played at Hoseok's lips.
"There was nothing going on between us, Hobi. I know you all thought there was. But it wasn't like that."
Hoseok held his hands up. "I'm not suggesting anything sexual, man. I just thought he would have been in your life. He was always by your side. I'm surprised that changed."
Yoongi chewed his lip. He could feel his chest tightening and the sick feeling building in his stomach. "I gotta take a piss. Be back inna sec."
Closing the bathroom door, Yoongi leaned his forehead against it. He could feel his body begin to tremble. He took a few deep, calming breaths before moving to the mirrored cabinet. He took a narrow plastic strip from the inside shelf and popped two pills into his hand. He washed them down with water straight from the tap and stared into the mirror. The look the fans had screamed for had faded. His then lean, athletic body had been replaced by a tubbier one. A little belly sat over his jeans. Years of dying his hair had left it a little dry and fuzzy. These days it hung over his eyes, but he hadn't got round to getting it trimmed.
"So, what do you do now, Yoongs?" Hoseok asked when he returned to the kitchen.
"I still work for Big Hit. I write and produce for them, like I was meant to in the very beginning." He smiled a little.
"So you're still making good money then?"
"I took financial advice and, yeah I still earn."
Hoseok looked out of the window over the city beyond. "You still have all the old contacts. Still speak to Bang PD and all that lot?"
"Yeah."
Hoseok got off the high stool and stood by the sink. "Yoongalls, I've got an idea."
"Oh fuck." He groaned, dropping his head down.
"Let’s get the band back together!" A sunshine smile appeared on his face.
"Are you still drunk? Can you honestly see any of them agreeing to be in the same room again." Yoongi exclaimed. A look of shock on his face. "After what happened, I doubt they'll ever speak to each other again!"
"It was all just a big fuck up. We can fix this. C'mon Yoongalls, think about it. A chance to do it all again."
"I don't want to 'do it all again' Hobi. I don't ever want to be back in that life. It's over. Let it go."
Hoseok dropped back onto the bar stool beside him. "Please. I really need the money."
"Find another way to make money.”
"You could see Jimin again. Don't try to tell me you don't miss him; I know you do. I saw it in your face. Let's just try, eh? What harm can it do? If they don't want to get back together, we'll just go our separate ways again."
Yoongi shook his head. "This isn't a good idea, Hobi."
"We can speak to Bang P.D. See if knows where everyone went. C’mon. We can do this. We can be Bangtan Sonyeondan again."
"I kinda like just being Suga."
Hoseok took Yoongi's face in his hands, squishing his cheeks. "You can still be Suga. But with your six best friends right by your side again. Are you Still Bangtan, Yoongalls?" He pressed. "Are you?"
"I'm barely waterproof, never mind bulletproof!" Yoongi said through squashed lips
"We have the technology, Yoongalls. We can make you bulletproof once again" Hobi grinned.
Yoongi sighed. "I'll call The Hitman, see if he'll meet with us."
"That's my boy!" Grinned Hoseok and kissed his reluctant friend's forehead. “We can record a new album. Tour again. That bitch won't get a penny of that!"
"Hang on. I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself. You don't know if anyone else will want this." He pulled Hoseok's hands from his face. "Last I heard Jin was a writer and had a restaurant. He might not want that life again. And god alone knows what Tae and Gguk are doing." Yoongi said, trying to calm his over excited friend.
"Ohh Jin's an attention whore. He'll love the idea. Tae and Gguk, well, we'll talk them round. You were pretty close to them. You can talk them into it."
"In case you hadn't noticed, I couldn't talk them into staying when it all kicked off. They didn't want to. What makes you think they'll want to come back into the same bullshit they walked away from?"
"It's not the same, though, is it? We're all different people now. All grown up. You can persuade them. This will be a new beginning for all of us." Hoseok urged, smiling widely.
"I've not agreed to this yet, Hobi. I only said I'd get a meeting with the CEO. Nothing else."
"Just think, the lights, the music, the screaming fans-"
"The hunger, the stress, the anxiety. I don’t want that again.”
Hobi hugged him hard. "We'll get Jimin back and he'll be your comfort zone again. You'll be fine."
Yoongi felt the tightness in his chest again. Two pills weren't enough.