Sonata No.9 | MYG 🔞

1| Coffee and Cocaine

Soundtrack: Cocaine by Pink Sweat$ and Serenade in E major op.22 Moderato by Dvorak

"Wake up, I have bad news!"

Those are the first words that came out of Hoseok's mouth that morning, before he threw a newspaper in Yoongi's face.

The man, still in a comatose state, barely opened his cat-like eyes.

The sun was shining brightly, bathing the penthouse in a golden gleam that didn't reflect at all the severity of the troubles Yoongi was in. Hearing Hoseok's angry footsteps coming his way, the man quickly sat in his bed, his naked chest reflecting the glorious hues of the Parisian winter.

Still languid from his slumber, he grabbed the heavy newspaper from beside him and peeked at the first page, eyes half opened.

He stared at the thin, low-quality paper for a good amount of time, finally realizing the extent of the issue.

"Oh shit," he simply stated, his eyes finally opening completely into two perfect ovals.

On the front page of Le Figaro, which was the ninth most read newspaper in Paris, was a full-sized coloured picture of himself being taken away, with the handcuffs and all, by the French police, right in front of L'Espadon, which was his favorite luxury restaurant of the moment. In big, bold, black and white letters, right under the picture was written 'Honte nationale: La débauche du célèbre pianiste Min Yoongi'.

Yoongi's French was very modest, but he could more or less understand the topic of the article; how, in one night, he had gone from one of the most loved musicians in the world to a national shame.

However, the fact that he had been caught by the authorities sniffing cocaine in a restaurant bathroom wasn't even that bad compared to the fact that he was smiling brightly on the picture. Instead of looking guilty or remorseful, head down and shoulders sagging like an honorable wrongdoer, he was beaming at the camera, one of his signature smiles that had made his marketing campaigns so successful. Eyes sparkly with mischief, perfect teeth exposed to the flash of the paparazzi, he was undeniably looking proud of his deed. The message was clear: Min Yoongi, the internationally famous pianist was the devil. He was a self-satisfied sinner and didn't regret at all his immoral actions.

His career was basically over.

Throwing the newspaper on the floor, the man simply let his body fall limp on the bed, his eyes stuck on the eggshell coloured ceiling.

"What are we going to do about that?" asked an agitated Hoseok.

Yoongi didn't even have to look to know that his manager was nervously biting his nails, a habit that he had unsuccessfully tried to get rid of for the past years. Still, the pianist couldn't blame Hoseok's repulsive tendency. Working with him had probably considerably aggravated the level of stress the ill-fated man was under.

"We won't do anything I guess."

He genuinely thought that he would never come back from a scandal like this. Once his public image was destroyed, everything around would eventually crumble into thin air.

On the other hand, Hoseok was a die-hard optimist, and he paced around Yoongi's bed, his expensive waxed shoes squeaking against the hardwood floors.

"Let me call your disk company and the Paris Music Conservatory, maybe we could arrange a charity event to collect some money for Drug Addicts Anonymous or something like that."

Yoongi let out a sarcastic chuckle.

"Sure, we can even say that the money is to pay my rehab!"

Hoseok, seeing that the musician was in one of his usual irascible mood, let out a long sigh, his disapproving stare grazing the man's lying figure.