Small (Yoongi's Sister BTS Fanfic)

52.2 | Compromised

AN: Past midnight on Wednesday is technically Thursday, right? Right. :)

      They sit in utter shock, frozen in place as the rest of the world barrels on without them. The other members don't pick up on their devastation, all wrapped up in the performance. Even Hoseok, sitting directly by Yoongi's stock still form, doesn't throw them a glance.

      If they weren't able to recognize her so easily, they wouldn't suspect a thing either. She'd led them on so well. The idea of her being an idol was just so far-fetched that it hadn't even occurred as a possibility to Yoongi before this moment. She's so quiet and introverted. She dislikes people and crowded places. She's... she's only 17 and had run away from home.

      How in the world-

      "She- I didn't-" Jimin audibly swallows, sounding so miserably confused, conflicted and resigned all at the same time, "It makes so much sense, now. The- the diets, the strict manager, the tight schedule, four eccentric roommates... Why didn't she tell us?"

      Yoongi can't respond, gaze cemented on center stage. The world stands still for a moment as the verse screeches to a sudden halt, and Yoongi gets a strong notion that the most impressive part of the song is about to start.

      The vocal line twists to the back, rotating out of main focus to leave B there instead, crouched in the spotlight in a position of absolute power. Jimin's breath hitches beside him when Byeol lifts her eyes to the camera, one eyebrow raised carelessly at the audience as if they were no more than a speck of dust. Her gaze is filled with a ferocious spirit that Yoongi's only seen in the most phenomenal performers; a group to which Yoongi now knows Byeol apparently belongs.

      Yoongi's hand curls death-grip-tight around the armrest of his chair when B opens her mouth.

      "You—think you're pretty but you're itty bit'a beauty ain't enough to turn the head of any lonely man on duty," B spits the words in rapid fire, her enunciation flawless even as her pitch jumps all over in sync with the song. Her free hand gesticulates sharply with every key word in such a similar fashion to the way Yoongi does that it makes his heart ache, "Think you got it, but you lose it, every answer that you're chosin'. It's the same same same, don't you ever use your brain? Makes me wonder if your mama taught you anythin' that's worth it."

      The words are so savage—so unapologetically blunt—and so her. Yoongi intrinsically knows that not only did she write the spitfire lyrics roasting the female idol stereotype, but that she also wrote and produced the track. Every beat thrums with her signature embedded in it. Yoongi doesn't know how he was so blind.

      "Look here- [bang bang] -on the podium. Takin' all your nonsense without a word like [yummy-yum]." She hardly needs to breathe, obviously having trained long hours to perfect the art of conserving air. Her work paid off—she doesn't trip over a single syllable, "I don't fight back with claws and fists. 'Stead I tear you up, inside out, with nothin' but my lips."

      "Did ya get that? Was it too fast?" She sounds so perfectly snarky, throwing a careless eyeroll straight at the camera. Yoongi wants to laugh and cry all at once, "Sorry if my rappin's so good that it makes you mad. I don't waste my time on your petty little rhymes. Don't you whine- you'll be fine- if the speedy little ambulance gets here on time~ "

      B finished with a cock of her head and a smirk, the movement garnering a chaos of earsplitting cheers from the hyped audience. Then she effortlessly slides back behind the vocal line as they launch back into the final chorus. Her face never falters from that incredibly dangerous look the whole time, even as she pours all her strength into the choreography.