Chapter 2- several lives, one world

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YOONGI POV:

I separate myself from the pile of arms and legs- wayward limbs sprawled across mine and try not to relent at the small sad sound that Hobi makes at the loss of his hyung pillow he'd been reclined against.

"Hyung the movie's barely started." He says, eyes glinting in the dim room as he tries to reach out for me, pouting cutely at me.

He knows exactly what he's doing, especially when a smile plays at his lips and his ears twitch, eyes shining with amusement.

"Don't be a brat. Why can't you be a good cub like Tae?" I say, pointing my chin towards the easily settled baby between the three of us, where he'd happily bounded over to fill Hobi's lap and had curled around him, his tail sprawled over his own waist- absent-mindedly petting it, grooming it.

"Because Tae-ah is always a good cub. The best cub. Come to bed when you're done hyung." Hobi relents with an easy grin, letting go of my wrist with a brief rub of his fingers, scenting along the inside of the thin skin before letting go.

I nod.

"Of course." I say, smiling softly before padding quietly out of the room, making my way to the room I've separated off as a small studio, setting up the equipment before sliding on my earphones. Room sealed of sound.

I push the dial up, playing the familiar intro before speaking.

"This is Honey FM and I will be your DJ through the night, Suga." I say beginning my intro.

And the next few hours pass by in a mixture of songs, broken in intermittently with my own comments and some of the listeners' responses and requests.

I move onto the discussion segment of the show, reading over the prompt that the scriptwriter has sent. I'm given artistic freedom to play about with the scheduled topics but my eyes snag onto the top of the list, feeling my lips drag down at it.

Discuss controversy about hybrid rights.

But then my lips thin and tighten. Artistic freedom right?

I'll give them artistic freedom.

So as I interact with the viewers who've called in, I begin to talk quite amicably at first with the ones who are in support of it, discuss worries with some of the younger callers. And some of the largely positive calls are mixed in with the occasional ones who seem woefully clueless and ignorant about something going on daily, but those calls are dealt with calmly and levelly, patience wearing thin at the lack of knowledge some people have. But when I do get quite a vehement passionate caller about how hybrids shouldn't have equal rights, that they're no better than animals let loose.

And that's when I lose it.

Because I won't have a pompous, privileged person call in and try insult hybrids. Act that he's allowed to call in and try and insult any of my listeners, insult me, my family, my own.

So I cut him off, trying to maintain the slightest bare level of professionalism as I warn him that hate and discrimination towards hybrids isn't accepted or tolerated before going to pick apart and pull each part of his argument apart- showing him just how wrong and bigoted he comes across as.

And by the end of it, I can hear my heart hammering loudly in my chest, can feel the tight stiffness to my tail and the way my ears have sharply perked up, trying to detect any malice in his voice. And I glare at the speaker where his voice had come out from, feeling the way my blood seems to be rushing through my body- words having spilled uncontrollably from my lips.

The screen lights up with messages from listeners- overwhelming positive reviews and messages cheering me on, bolstering me and telling me to continue being like this, that this is one of the reasons why they tune into my show.

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