Loosening the Grip : Prologue
A Dirty, Dirty Dancing Spinoff ** You don't need to have read Dirty Dancing to read this fic. They are their own separate entities. The characters and some background are linked
Featuring: Hyunjin and Changbin of Stray Kids, I.M of Monsta X
Word Count: 3.7 K
Trigger warnings: death, car accident, suicidal thoughts
Loosening the Grip: Prologue
~Admin V
In the car, Hyunjin was searching for something, but not seeming to find it.
“What are you looking for?”
“The keys.”
“You don’t keep them on you?”
“Changbin usually just leaves them in the ignition.”
Your mouth dropped. “This isn’t your car?”
He continued his search.
“Our car is also in the lot. If you give me ten minutes, I can go get the keys from the house.”
“We’re already here.” He bent down and reached under the dashboard until he pulled out some wires.
Your mouth fell again. “Are you hotwiring the car?”
Before he could answer, the car’s engine came to life. Hyunjin glanced to you. “Buckle up.”
“How did you get into dancing?”
“I’m sure you could guess from my abilities to start cars without the key, I wasn’t always the most well-behaved kid.”
Looking back at him, he didn’t look at you, but stared straight ahead.
“A lot of the reform programs I was mandated into revolved around art; drawing, painting, writing, acting, and dance. The idea is refocusing our energy into positive, creative outlets.”
It was Hyunjin’s mechanic father who taught the two of you to hotwire cars when you were twelve.
“Never know when you’ll need a quick getaway,” he would say.
That’s how you ended up borrowing your foster parents’ car to take it on a joyride with Hyun. It wasn’t exactly the plan to use the five-finger discount at a convenience store. The fact that you were minors didn’t stop the owner from calling the cops.
Your foster parents didn’t accuse you of stealing the car, since losing you as a foster would be losing money.
Because you both apologized and returned the items, criminal charges were dropped, but because it wasn’t exactly either of your first brush-ups with the law you were both still mandated to counseling and put in a few reform programs. The worst was the boot camp meant to scare the crap out of you, but then there were the artistic pursuits.
Hyunjin found his way in art and dance. You found yours in the art. You fell in love with drawing, and though you didn’t start out that great at it, the teacher assured you with practice, anyone could be good, and it was true.
You didn’t want your foster brother, Changkyun to fall down the same path of misbehavior, so you asked if there were other programs for non-offenders. He got really into poetry. You'd even heard him turn them into small raps.
Other than Hyunjin, he was the most important person in your life. Although you weren’t blood, you were like real brother and sister. You'd do anything for him, and vice versa. You'd survived the foster system together for most of your tweens and adolescence. It was always your plan to take care of each other, even as adults.
5 Years Ago
With the help of Hyunjin’s dad, you were buying Changkyun a car for his birthday.
Hyunjin got himself into a fancy art school for his abilities in art and dancing. You decided to stay for Changkyun. Once you aged out, you left your fosters’ house. The apartment you got wasn’t the best, but it was yours, and by giving Kyun the car, he could find some freedom and visit you as he pleased.
You'd picked up the car on your way to your shift at the corner mart. It was like every other shift, until two girls walked in, talking loudly about street racing.
“I.M is so hot. You know he’s gonna win tonight.”
“Don’t count on it. Hyungwon is racing. He’s won his last four races. I.M only has two under his belt.”
You recognized the name I.M. Changkyun’s family name was Im, and in his poetry or raps, he signed them with “I M what I M.”
But this couldn’t be Changkyun. You got him into safe paths. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to street race, would he?
“Be real,” the first girl continued. “I.M is fearless.”
The girls came up to the counter with their items. “Maybe, but Hyungwon has control. When you’re reckless like I.M, that’s when you make mistakes.”
“I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” you interrupted. “By I.M do you mean Changkyun Im?”
Both girls dropped their mouths. The one who seemed to know him spoke up. “Omigod, you know him?” Then she squinted her eyes as she scanned you up and down. “You’re not his girlfriend, are you?”
“His sister.”
The girl looked relieved then excited. “Omigod, are you guys like Fast and Furious? The Torretto family? Do you race, too?”
This wasn’t where you wanted the conversation to go, but if this was your brother racing, you needed any help you could get. “Totally. Actually, I.M forgot to mention where the race was tonight.”
The girl gasped. “Are you gonna race tonight?” She really was into the Torretto family thing.
“No, I want to give I.M a fighting chance,” you smirked.
Both girls giggled and told you the location. They paid for their things and left.
No longer caring about work, you grabbed your phone and called him.
“Sup, sis?”
“Where are you? I have a birthday present for you.”
“At the fosters’ for now. I have plans later.”
“Really? What plans.”
“Just hanging with Jooheon and the boys.”
You couldn’t believe he was lying to you. Of course, you could understand why he wouldn’t tell you after getting him into all the programs. But he didn’t even hesitate or stutter. “Okay, I’m leaving work now. Be there soon.” Not letting him answer, you hung up then called your boss, telling him you had a family emergency. No one else was available, so you just locked up the mart until your boss could get there. He threatened your job if you left, but if Changkyun was actually racing, you couldn’t be fucked.
In his soon-to-be-car, you drove as fast as you could. The car wasn’t perfect; it still had some fixing up to do. You were hoping it was something you and he could work on together. But if he really was racing, there was no way in hell he was getting the car now.
You pulled into the fosters’. Unfortunately, the car’s engine wasn’t quiet and Changkyun came outside to the sound.
The smile on his face was Chesire Cat wide. “Is this my present?” he asked as you stepped out, keys in hand.
“I guess that depends.”
He raised his pierced eyebrow in a quizzical look.
“Are you going to use it to race?”
His face fell. “How’d you find out?”
Your mouth dropped. You’d still been hoping it wasn’t really him. “Are you fucking serious?” He looked down. “Changkyun, look at me. Why would you do something so stupid?”
Balling his fists, he glared at you angrily. “It’s not stupid. You wouldn’t know anything about it.”
“I know getting caught racing faces more criminal charges than just hotwiring cars. I know if you get caught, you’re looking at serious jail time. Not to mention if you get in any kind of accident. All of it is stupid, Kyun.”
His only response was a scoff. Good. Maybe he was thinking about what you were saying.
“How are you even getting cars to race?”
He didn’t answer.
“Don’t tell me you’re stealing them.”
“Please,” he rolled his eyes.
Staring wide-eyed, you waited for him to answer.
Scoffing again, he looked at you, bored. “I’m borrowing Jooheon’s car.”
You couldn’t help feeling incredulous, your eyebrows raising. “What happens if you crash Jooheon’s car? How’re you going to pay him back?”
His icy glare sent a shiver down your spine. “Despite what you’re saying, I’m not an idiot! I’m good at driving. Great even. Do you know how much money I’ve won from racing? So you don’t have to stay at that piece of shit apartment?”
That stung. It wasn’t the best apartment, true. But it was yours. And you weren’t planning on living in it forever. Just until Changkyun was with you and you had two incomes to work with.
He shook his head with a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “But now thanks to you, I have my own car to race.”
The fire rose in you. “The fuck you do! Like I would give you a car now knowing what you’d do with it? I don’t care how much money you’re making. It’s dangerous! Stupid and dangerous."
“Stop calling me stupid!” That was the loudest you’d ever heard him raise his voice, especially to you. “You don’t know what I’m capable of! You don’t know how good I am. I’m winning this race tonight, because that’s how good I am!”
“Yeah, two wins under your belt, right? Only I hear Hyungwon has 4, and he knows how to control his car while you drive thoughtlessly any way you can to win.”
His face paled. He didn’t know you knew that much. “I’m gonna win,” he muttered under his breath.
“You’re not going,” you stood up straighter, owning your authority as an older sister.
Stepping closer, he stood almost chest to chest with you. “You can’t stop me.”
“Watch me.”
“I’m taking this car, and I’m going to win the race against Hyungwon.”
“This car?” Giving a wicked grin, you backed away from him then tossed the keys into the yard near some bushes.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not gonna stop me. You’re not my mom.”
“I’m not trying to be your mom. But I am your sister. And I care about you.”
“But you’re not my sister. And if you were, you would be supportive of me and stop insulting me.”
You sighed. Before you could rebuff what he said, he pushed passed you and locked himself in the car.
Shaking your head, you tapped on the window. “Now what are you going to do. Can’t go to your race in a car without keys.
Ignoring you, he bent down and was grabbing at the bottom of the steering column.
Fuck. He knew how to hotwire. Tapping more frantically, you tried to have an even voice. “Changkyun, I’m sorry. You’re probably a great racer. But I care about you. You need to know that, and that’s why I can’t let you race.”
The car’s engine came to life.
Fuck. Fuck. “Changkyun, please. You can take me out in this car after a birthday dinner, but don’t do this.”
He didn’t even look at you as he shifted the car and backed out of the driveway.
“Changkyun!” you plead desperately, but he wasn’t listening.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. You paced back and forth, not sure what to do. Then you called Jooheon.
“Hey,” he sounded chipper. “Kyun isn’t here yet, but we’re gonna grab some burgers and go mini golfing.”
How long had Changkyun been lying to you? Even if you didn’t know he was street racing, it was a terrible lie. “Don’t bullshit me, Jooheon. I know he’s racing. I know he’s using your car, and I know there’s a race tonight.”
Silence met you from the other line. Finally he breathed out. “So?”
“So, you’re gonna pick me up and take me to the race.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I know where the race is, and so will the police.”
He was saying a slur of curses now. “Fine. I’m supposed to pick him up too, is he there?”
You gritted your teeth. “No. He stole my car and left for the race in it.”
Jooheon laughed at that.
“It’s not funny. Now pick me up or I swear . . .”
“Alright, alright, calm down, I’m coming.”
You assumed the car he picked you up in was the one Changhyun usually raced, with all its decals and lights. He got you to the venue quickly, and you found yourself surprised. Seeing The Fast and the Furious movies, you weren’t really expecting the scene to look like the movie. But here it was, just like a shot from the film, only a slightly smaller gathering, since you lived on the east coast and not in California. If you did race, maybe you would be like the Torretto's.
Another racer sat against his car with girls and other fans surrounding him. Hyungwon, undoubtedly. It wasn’t long until you spotted Changkyun. He had his own little gathering around his new car. Then his eyes landed on you and narrowed. He glared as he saw Jooheon behind you.
“You brought her here?”
Stepping forward, Jooheon lifted his hands in defense. “She threatened to call five-oh. What else was I supposed to do?”
Once again, Changkyun squared up with you, face to face. His crowd got silent as they watched. “I already told you, I’m not backing out of the race.” His squad encouraged him and cheered for him. “I’m racing Hyungwon and I’m winning,” he pointed to where he’d just been perched. “In that car.” His crowd cheered louder.
Your stomach dropped. Even Jooheon started to panic and came between you. “Hey man. Use my car. You’ve been racing and practicing in mine. You don’t know what that car can do.”
“I don’t want you to race, but if I can’t stop you, I agree with Jooheon. That car is still a fixer upper. Be smart about this.” Making your eyes as big as possible, you wanted him to see you cared about him and were still trying to protect him.
But only anger showed in his eyes. “I’m tired of you calling me dumb. This is my life. I know what I’m capable of, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
That was the last conversation you’d ever had with him. He’d told his fans you doubted his skills until they pushed you out and away from him. You’d felt helpless as the race started. Even more so when he jumped a hill and his tires shredded, leaving him to race on the rims. Changkyun lost control of the car and at full speed drove against a siderail until the car flipped over the side and rolled several times into the grassy field.
The coroner said he’d died quickly once the car rolled, as evident by the large gash that covered his forehead. Dying fast like that meant no pain.
You felt it though. The pain consumed you as you paid for his funeral, since the fosters couldn’t be bothered. It didn't help that you did lose your job at the mart when you tried to stop Kyun.
Jooheon agreed to host the wake at his place since yours was so small. As you nursed your beer at the bottom of a stairwell, hearing Jooheon and Changkyun’s friends tell stories, you wished you could just evaporate.
“Thought I might find you here.”
Looking up, you were shocked to see him back. “Hyunjin.” Throwing your arms around him, you hugged him tight. It was all you could do not to fully breakdown. Then you noticed someone behind him and let go.
Hyunjin turned to him. “This is a friend from school, Changbin.”
“Don’t worry, I’m just the chauffeur.” He stretched out his hand to shake yours. “Sorry for your loss.”
Wiping at your eyes, you let out a tension chuckle. “Yeah, thanks.”
Hyunjin rested his hand on your shoulder. “My dad told me what happened. I’m so sorry.”
Shaking your head, you then shook his hand off you. “Well, it’s not your fault I didn’t let him find trouble so he could get mandated into the boot camp like us. Or assumed poetry would save him like art saved us.”
Hyunjin said your name softly, but you backed away from him and Changbin. Walking up the stairs, you locked yourself into a bedroom.
Why did you think you could do this? After the funeral you should’ve just gone home. You checked your phone to see if you’d been there long enough. A voice memo had been sent to your phone. You recognized the number as the art program you, Hyunjin, and Changkyun were part of.
Pressing play ended up causing you the worst anguish of the day. I M what I M. It was a song he’d recorded. Tears stung your eyes and your chest ached as it played. You couldn’t do this.
What was the point of living? You had been doing everything for Changkyun. The two of you were supposed to survive the system together. But he didn’t. Which meant you didn’t. What was the point of anything if you couldn’t support him anymore. You lost him. You lost your job. The apartment was probably next. Why try to make a life he would no longer be a part of?
Wind blew at the window of the room. Walking over, you opened it. There was no screen, so you popped your head out and looked around. It was very close to the roof. If you were careful enough . . .
You walked on the roof, looking around the house and yard. There was a swimming pool in the back. That was it. You’d jump into the swimming pool. It wasn’t close enough for you to actually make it. And if you did, you most likely wouldn't survive.
People outside around the pool saw you and started cheering and egging you on, telling you to jump in the pool. It was hard not to smile and laugh since you’d already planned to. Lifting the beer in your hand, you raised it and cheered with them.
Then Hyunjin came into view, saying your name loudly. “What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna go for a swim.”
The crowd below cheered louder, but Hyunjin yelled for them to shut up. “You don’t want to swim. Come down and we can talk.”
“Why? What’s to talk about?”
He called your name in a warning plea.
“You want to talk about how I didn’t save my brother? Or how I handed him the keys to his death?” On the verge of crying, you made yourself laugh to try to hide it.
“You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove.”
You chuckled more to hide the sobs. “Who says I’m trying to prove something. I just want to swim.”
More shouts of encouragement from below. You didn’t bother to look at Hyunjin. If this was going to happen, it was now or never.
Gauging where a good spot to jump would be, you were unable to move as strong arms suddenly grabbed you and lifted you off the ground.
“Let me go!” you kicked your legs out. “Let me go! Let me go!” Trying to fight wasn’t working; the grip was too strong. You were also unable to hold up your façade, and the tears started streaming down your face. “Let me go,” you begged, but the fight was no longer in you.
“I got her,” Changbin shouted down to Hyunjin. His arms stayed secure around you as you crumbled into yourself and let the grief take over.
You could now hear Hyunjin’s voice, closer than when he was by the pool. Changbin carried you to the edge of the roof and you were carefully passed to Hyunjin back in the house. Once he had you, he held you in his arms and sat on a bed. He stroked your hair and whispered things like “it’s not your fault,” and “you still got me.”
Not sure of where Changbin went, or how long you’d cried, you’d stayed in Hyunjin’s arms until there were no sobs left in you.
He didn’t let go, even as you quieted. “If you think Changkyun’s death is your fault, it’s even more mine.”
A sniffle escaped as you looked up at him. “How could it be your fault?”
“You were still here for him. I left.”
Surprisingly, you still had tears to stream down your face. “You didn’t leave him. You had to get out of here, or you’d be stuck at the garage with your dad.”
“And you stayed here. You looked out for him more than anyone else. This isn’t your fault.” Hyunjin was now doing a poor job of holding back tears. “Changkyun was old enough to decide for himself and make his own decisions. I know it hurts, but there’s nothing we could’ve done differently.”
That didn’t make you feel better. You nuzzled against his chest and let him rub your back as you cried together.
“I’ll stay here as long as you need me to.”
Looking up at him again, you rubbed your eyes. “You’ll lose your scholarship if you stay with me as long as I want you to.”
“Losing that doesn’t matter to me as much as losing you.” He lifted you by the chin to look at him. “No matter what you think you lost with Changkyun, you still have me. You’re not losing me.”
The water continued coming from your eyes. You felt so tired. “You know I’m not into you like that.” Both of you giggled to that. Sighing, you looked at him seriously. “I can’t let you leave that school. You worked so hard to get in there. And you’ve got a good friend, Changbin, you can’t leave alone.”
Hyunjin snorted. “That meathead? He doesn’t even know how to change a tire,” he chuckled.
You couldn’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Changkyun could change a tire. And so could you. You’d probably never drive a car again. Grabbing Hyunjin’s chin this time, you looked at him thoughtfully. “What am I supposed to do now?”
He sighed, his head shaking slightly. “That’s really for you to choose. But you have to live,” he said your name. “Live for Changkyun. Have the better life you both deserve.”
Out of tears now, you exhaled. “What do I have worth living for?”
Not answering at first, Hyunjin cradled you against him tighter. After a few moments he finally answered. “You have art. I know this grief and pain aren’t going away anytime soon, but use your art. Let yourself get lost in it.”
“I didn’t get into a fancy art school like you. What is getting lost in my art gonna do? I still have rent to pay.”
“But we still have connections with the art program. Maybe you can teach classes. I have connections now, too.” He paused a moment then let out a small laugh. "They teach pole dancing at my school. I could Magic Mike it for both of us."
“They do make an absurd amount of money." Looking at him again, you sighed. "So I’m just supposed to let art consume my life.”
“Better than thoughts of jumping off a roof.”
You breathed slowly in his arms. Let art take over. And so you did.
Now