Diamond in the Rough (Seventeen and Bangtan Fanfic)

10: The Bulletproof Boys

Rika's POV

The fact that a kid who grew up on pens and books is now surprising the world I dunno

I was afraid I'd stand asymmetrical to the world's expectations

In case I betray all those who had faith in me

I straighten my heavy shoulders and go up on my first stage

During the brief static of the moment, I steady my breath

People I've been watching are now all watching me

Those I looked up to on TV, right now they're beneath me

Uh like a kaleidoscope, the one chance act without a moment to brush past had begun

3 year's battle with the mic doused in blood and sweat evaporates in 3 minutes

I was merely 0 seconds but I pour them out clearly I'm fucking real

"Hey, kid. What's your dream?" Mine is to become a rap star can't you feel

I rapped a rap part quietly to myself, smiling at the lyrics as I allow the speaker to play the song on repeat softly while I scurry around the room with stacks of files and CDs in my arms. On repeat was a Bangtan Boys CD. I've never met them or even seen their pictures (I know, did you honestly think I'd get to use the internet?), unlike Seventeen, but for some reason I feel proud to have found one of Bangtan Boys' songs today. Their lyrics are so sincere, so raw and I left this one song on repeat for a whole hour already. If I could ever say those words someday, for myself, then I'd feel my life were accomplished. But a singer, me? I'm not a born singer, yet a part of me says that this is what I want to do. Why else have I been practicing dancing and singing at night, while I could be sleeping? Did I simply do it out of boredom? I don't want to betray eomma, who has her faith in me.

But you already have. You aren't even studying anymore like she thinks you are.

You joined a street gang

You're not that good girl she thinks you are.

But I didn't have a choice. It was either continue schooling, or her continue living. Of course I made my choice. I smile, slightly bitter at the future of mine that seems to remain bleak as an incoming stormy sky. I want to sing. I want to stand above them all, all these people who can't spare to give me a glance right now.

"It's a hopeless dream," I whisper, loud enough for myself to hear like I have almost every day, to try in vain convince the part of me who just refuses to agree.

The door behind me suddenly swings open and I hear the lock click. I swing around in shock, all the CD cases in my arms scattering ungracefully. A boy with black hair that looks around my age stares at me with wide eyes, breathless from running and his hair swept to the side, and I feel my breathing speed up. I open my mouth to say something but he strides forward and puts a finger on his own lips, asking me to be quiet.

I nod obediently before bending down to pick up the CD cases. He stops me by grabbing my injured arm, and I wince painfully as I pull my arm back, holding it limply with my other arm. I watch as his eyes widen in shock and he whispers a hushed "Sorry".