Sonata No.9 | MYG 🔞

30| Snap

Soundtrack: Tuesday by Danelle Sandoval and Sea of Crying by Oh Jun Sung (from the Hwarang soundtrack)

Yoongi felt numb as he got out of the hotel and hailed a taxi. The night was cold and humid, neon signs of shops and restaurants reflecting against the wet pavement, chattered hues of blue and red being washed off by the white of car headlights. It had been raining earlier that evening but the drizzle had stopped to make place to a tiresome breeze, sweeping the sidewalks at the same slow pace as the drunkards wandering back alleys.

The pianist held his jacket closer as he got inside the yellow car and told the driver to get to the Marquee New York club, barely feeling the icy grip of the wind on his body. He felt empty, devoid of any sentiment, like he was staring at his body huddled at the back of the vehicle from above, a shadow looking at someone else's life through a distorted lens.

Because this couldn't be real. This couldn't really be happening to him.

Outside, the streets of New York were teeming with life, the heart of Manhattan providing techno bars, secret clubs and smoky lounges to anyone ready to pull out their wallet. The man watched through the glass at the people laughing as they strolled the sidewalks, girls in high heel boots and boys in bomber jackets, absolutely clueless that somewhere, in the back of a taxi, Min Yoongi was driving to his doom.

The club looked like every other bricked New York building from the exterior, a cube of red and grey with a door open on the street, guarded by three hefty bodyguards. The music was booming on the pavement, barely contained by the walls of the building, the energy of the crowd leaking outside the edifice to spread on the entire venue.

Yoongi had to heavily pay the taxi driver so that he would agree to wait for him.

"I'll only be a minute, I promise," the pianist said, slipping another bill in the guy's open hand so he would stop complaining.

Finally, with a grumble, the man agreed, and the pianist opened the door to slip into the night, seeking the back entrance. Even at this late hour, there was still a lineup, and he didn't have the patience to call Taehyung or Hoseok so that one of them would get him inside.

He walked around the building, soon finding himself in the alley behind it, full of garbage bags and smelling like piss. There was a fence with a lock that forbade access but Yoongi was determined. He managed to jump above it by slipping his feet in the holes, climbing over the sharp tips to fall on the other side with a thud.

The door leading to the building was open, bewitching techno music accompanying his steps as he got inside, already too loud and rowdy for his tastes. He found himself in a service corridor, locked doors on both sides indicating storage rooms. Following the music, he made his way to the dance floor, opening one last 'staff only' door before finding himself in.

The place was magical.

The entirety of the ceiling was bathed in purple, spotlights lighting up a gigantic dancefloor where people were jumping to the beat in such a compact crowd, it was impossible to get through. The floors were shaking, massive speakers screaming, smoke gushing from near the DJ booth.

Namjoon was standing in his box with one arm in the air and his torso glistening with sweat, eyebrows screwed in focus as his fingers moved on his keyboard. That day, he was wearing what looked like silk gold boxer shorts with knee-high socks. His hair, a vibrant purple, was slicked back with gel and he was beaming at the screeching horde before him, dimples all out and eyes in crescent.

Yoongi looked around, discouraged. There was no way he would find Taehyung, Hoseok, or Victoria in a crowd like that. He would be lucky to find his way back to the exit without being lynched. Closely following the wall, he managed to make his way to the back of the crowd, further away from the DJ booth and the mosh pit.