Title: The Return
Summary: The search for Seokyu finally comes to an end on the coast of Jeju.
Genre: Drama, mild angst.
Pairing: OT7
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Angst, swearing.
A/N: I can’t decide how I want Vice’s banners to look sorry if this is fugly!!!
By the time the boyband packed their things, checked out of the hotel, and took the ferry to Jeju, the sun had gone down. Woodam prayed that this would be the last night they spent looking for their lost friend.
The ferry ride was dead silent, the air between the members was stiff, as if one word from anyone would jinx them. Woodam knew things were rough when even he couldn’t find anything to say. Usually he was good at keeping everyone’s emotions in check, but he couldn’t even stomach his own anxiety. What if they couldn’t find Seokyu? Or worse, what if they find him and he refuses to come back? What if they had to leave someone they considered a brother behind?
The six men walked in a two by three formation, scanning the streets of Jeju for any sign of Seokyu. They rounded a corner and heard music echoing from a pub. Woodam’s whole posture stiffened up. He knew that voice. The voice that always harmonized with his. The voice that could be heard from the shower every night. The voice that he had watched develop so much over the past ten years.
The five other members must have recognized it to. With a quick glance at each other, the group sprinted towards the pub. Woodam’s pulse was rapid, pulsing in his neck.
The door to the pub flung open, and Woodam almost let out a relieved cry. On the small, dingy stage stood his lost friend. Seokyu’s hair was grown out a little, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck, clearly unstyled. He wore a well-worn button down and dirty jeans, a pair of beat up sneakers on his feet. He looked like an average guy, but his stage presence could not be dimmed. He had a bright smile on his face while he played his guitar, winking at the small group of people cluttered around him.
When Seokyu’s gaze landed on his group mates, his fingers fumbled on the guitar, halting the song. The audience around him paused their enthusiastic head bobbing and turned their attention to where Seokyu was staring. A few gasps strangled out. Clearly, Vice was recognizable to a few.
Seokyu, without another word, hopped off the stage. He gestured to the boys shortly with a head nod in the direction of the back exit. The group hesitated, giving each other a weary look. Realizing that they had no other option, they headed towards the exit. The crowd parted to let Vice through, everyone still muttering under their breath.
Outside, Seokyu was pacing anxiously, staring down at his feet. When the back door closed, Seokyu’s head snapped up. Woodam had hoped that when they were reunited that Seokyu would smile his warming smile and stretch his arms out for a big hug. But Woodam could see in Seokyu’s eyes the confusion and slight annoyance that his younger friend was feeling. The vocalists heart sank, dreading what conversation would be taking place next.
“How did you find me?” Seokyu asked.
The sharp question took the group back a little. Then Geonwu squared his shoulders like he does when he’s about to argue.
“What do you mean, how did we find you?” Geonwu asked angrily. “We’ve been looking all over the fucking country for your dumb ass!”
Seokyu furrowed his eyebrows. “I didn’t think you guys would come looking.”
“What?” Woodam blinked. “You went missing! Did you really think we’d just let you go? We were worried sick.”
“We’re your brothers, Kyu.” Kane’s eyes looked a little glossy, like tears were forming. “What did you expect us to do?”
Seokyu ran a hand through his hair, looking back at the pub that they just came out of.
“I appreciate that you guys care, really, but…” Seokyu shook his head, looking back down to the dirt. “I’m assuming you want me to come back with you guys, right?”
Another quiet spell fell over the group. What was with Seokyu? Why was he looking so disappointed?
“Are you fucking serious?” Cyth asked in a deadly calm voice. “No. We just came all this way to watch you disappear again. You’re coming back with us, Seokyu. We’re not leaving you behind.”
“Yeah, man, the deadline for your contract ends in 5 days and we have to be back at the company before the end of today…” Ji explained. “Do you not wanna come back?”
Seokyu stayed silent.
“For fucks sake, can you at least look at us?” Cyth spat.
Seokyu bit his lip, looking back up at his friends. “It’s not that I don’t want to come back. I just... I wanted to live normally just a little bit longer.” A pink flush tinted his cheeks and ears.
“Normally? You think performing in shitty bars and fucking psychics is normal?” Minho asked, arching an eyebrow. “You’re not living normally, you’re being reckless.”
“Which I never was able to do!” Seokyu’s voice raised a little. “Ever since I was nineteen my life has been under the control of a corporation. I just... I just wanted to have a little bit of freedom to do the things that I will never be able to do again.”
The six other men fell silent. Woodam unfortunately knew what Seokyu was talking about. The boys have never been able to do what other 20-something-year-olds do. Everything had to appear perfect and flawless for the sake of their image. Every single one of them daydreamed about normal, mundane life from time to time. But the difference was, none of them actually ran away.
“Why didn’t you tell us though?” Woodie asked, trying not to sound too selfish or hurt.
Seokyu shrugged, looking a little bashful. “I don’t know. I think I liked the idea of being completely on my own.”
“This was really fucking stupid of you, Seokyu.” Minho shook his head in disappointment.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Seokyu bowed his head in shame.
Woodam fought back the urge to respond with ‘it’s okay’. He knew it was not. This was a big blow to the groups trust with each other. It wouldn’t be okay for a while.
The ride home was the quietest Woodie has seen the group. Not one person spoke the whole way back to Seoul. Seokyu’s posture was stiff next to him on the train, looking out the window and occasionally jumping his leg nervously. When they finally arrived at HBH Entertainment, Hak Bonghwa was waiting outside the company. When the founder saw Seokyu, he opened his arms up.
“Welcome home, Seokyu!” He grinned, shaking the vocalist’s hand when he was closer. “I hope that you’re here to discuss your contract?”
Seokyu nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Fantastic.” Hak Bonghwa wrapped a fatherly arm around Seokyu’s shoulder. “I have it ready for your review in my office. Your lawyer is already waiting inside. I’ll be up with you soon.”
He gave Seokyu’s shoulder a squeeze before releasing him, watching him walk into the building. When Seokyu was gone, Bonghwa turned to the six men in front of him.
“Well, good work, boys. I’m glad you all made it home safely.” Bonghwa nodded. “Understand that this will be the last time an act like this happens. The lack of communication between us is dangerous and can end up with someone getting hurt. Are we in an understanding?”
The six men nodded silently.
“Fantastic.” Hak Bonghwa nodded. “Come inside. I have tea ready for all of you. After Seokyu’s signing, I think we need to have a discussion on artists’ freedom. Don’t you?”
Summary: Vice finds an unexpected clue at a noodle restaurant.
Genre: Mystery, drama
Pairing: OT7 / OT6
Word Count: 1.0k
Warnings: Swearing, missing persons.
After stopping at a thrift store to pick up some average-looking clothes and hearing Kane whine and complain about his bladder feeling like it was going to explode, the group suggested stopping for an early lunch at a local restaurant. The restaurant was recommended to them by the woman running the thrift store, as it was locally famous for their spicy fire noodles.
Once the boys were given a seat at the restaurant, Kane bolted to the mens room. Once he relieved himself he let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes. He didn’t realize how tired he was until that moment. Not just physically, but emotionally too. The maknae hadn’t given himself time to think about Seokyu’s disappearance, but now that he was completely alone for the first time in three days, the reality of the situation was starting to hit him.
As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. Why would Seokyu just leave them? Was there something that Kane could have done to make him stay? His throat closed up at the thought of his missing friend, but he swallowed hard. He wasn’t about to have a mental breakdown in this family-owned restaurant. These people didn’t get paid enough to deal with coaxing him out of the restroom. He shook his head and reached for a paper towel, patting his hands dry. Exiting the bathroom, he took a look around.
On the wall opposite to the bathroom was full of photographs of people holding up a large empty noodle bowl. He hadn’t noticed it when he was running past in a crisis, but now that the anxiety of possibly peeing himself was gone, he took a closer look at the pictures.
Most of the contestants had tear-stained faces with orangey-red sauce rimming their lips. The pictures were pretty comical, actually, but there was one face that stood out from the rest.
“No fucking way.” Kane said under his breath. Right in front of him, smiling with closed lips, was Seokyu. The owner of the restaurant had his arm around Seokyu’s shoulders like a proud father would, but Seokyu’s expression made it look like the challenge was easy. Kane took the picture off the wall, dashing back to the dining area.
“Guys! Look who’s on the wall!” Kane said excitedly, dropping the photograph in the middle of the table.
“Seokyu? He was here?” Woodam asked, his eyes wide.
The waitress came back over with their drinks, furrowing her eyebrows at the photograph. “Oh yeah, I remember him. He was in two nights ago. He wanted to try our Hell’s Bells Noodle Challenge.”
“Hell’s Bells? Like AC/DC?” Minho asked as the waitress placed their drinks down on the table.
The waitress chuckled. “You wish. If someone can get through our spicy noodle dish in under 5 minutes, they eat free. A lot of people try, but your friend here was real impressive.” She shared. “Finished in less than two minutes. He didn’t even accept the eat free coupon.”
The boy group exchanged bewildered looks with each other. Seokyu never had a huge appetite, at least not compared to the rest of them. Seokyu didn’t even like spicy food. Why would he try this challenge if he had money on him to afford food? What was he doing in Cheongju when he told Eunjoo he’d be heading to Yuso?
“And you said he was here two days ago?” Cyth asked.
The waitress nodded, looking around the table curiously. “Why? Has he been ghosting you guys?”
“Something like that, yeah.” Geonwu said bitterly, taking a sip of his water.
“Ma’am, did he say anything about visiting Yuso while he was here?” Kane asked anxiously. The waitress clicked her tongue, trying to recall the night Seokyu visited the restaurant.
“You know, he had a travel guide that he left behind. I think we chucked it behind the hostess desk if you would like me to grab it?” She offered.
Kane sighed with relief. “Yes please, that would be appreciated.”
The waitress hurried off, leaving the boys alone.
“What if he’s not going to Yuso anymore?” Ji wondered aloud. “If he’s not heading there, we’re fucked. Yuso is our only lead.”
“Let’s wait and see that travel guide. Maybe we’ll get a new lead.” Minho suggested, using the tone he only uses when he wants everyone to calm down, even though he himself is freaking out.
The waitress returned with a notebook full of travel guides poking out from the pages. The boys recognized the notebook immediately. Minho had given the notebook to Seokyu after his first year anniversary with Vice. It was meant for lyric writing or choreography formation, but now it was being doubled as a folder for travel brochures.
Luckily, most of the travel guides still focused on Yuso and there were a few pamphlets on sailing. But something else caught the member’s eyes. On the page were all the brochures were still poking out were a bunch of names that weren’t familiar to Vice.
“Wait, that says Oh Eunjoo.” Kane pointed, recognizing the name of the crazed psychic they met yesterday.
“That’s my name.” The waitress frowned. She had returned with their meals, but her attention was now on the book in front of them. “I’m Lee Seunghee. Sixth name from the bottom. And below that… Kim Taewoo, that’s the owner.”
“Why is he keeping a list of names?” Woodie asked aloud. No one had an answer.
“Well… Enjoy you meals!” Seunghee gave a weak smile. She dashed away, clearly put off by the fact that a random man had written her name down in a book.
“Seokyu… what the fuck is going on inside that head.” Ji shook his head, a dry chuckle escaping his lips.
Kane observed the notes one more time. “Well, at least we know we’re on the right track with Yuso, right?”
“Yeah. I hope so.” Minho nodded, although he seemed a little unsure. The leader picked up his chopsticks, gesturing to everyone around him. “Eat up, you don’t want your food to get cold.”
Summary: Kane can’t help but read the nasty things that knets are saying about himself and Vice online. He seeks out advice from the most confident member of the team.
Characters: Kane, Cyth, mentions of M.H.
Warnings: Mentions of body shaming & swearing.
◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇
2011.
Kane’s ring finger pressed down on the arrow key of his keyboard, a rhythmic ‘click’ of the keys repeated as he scrolled through the comments of a gossip outlet post about Vice’s successful award show season. If it was any other group, Kane assumes the comments would be full of congratulations. Unfortunately, it seemed like whenever Vice’s name is mentioned anywhere it sends a flare signal to all their haters to come and colonize on articles relating to the boy group.
“They think I’m ugly, they think I’m ugly... Oh this one says I’m both fat and ugly. Interesting. And this one thinks I’m-” Kane paused, squinting his eyes and leaning in. “Obnoxious. I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.” He mused to himself.
“Kangdae, are you reading that garbage again?” M.H’s head appeared in the doorway of Kane’s room, a disapproving look on his face. Kane looked over his shoulder and frowned at the older member.
“Don’t act like you don’t.” Kane rolled his eyes.
“I don’t. That shit’s toxic.” Minho straightened himself up, as if the act of not indulging in gossip was honorary. Kane let out a short huff of amusement.
“The laptop’s browsing history says otherwise.” Kane responded in a taunting sing-song tone, a small smirk playing on his lips.
Minho opened his mouth to protest, but then closed his jaw when he couldn’t think of a counter argument. Instead, he shook his head and walked down the hall, leaving Kane alone with his laptop and the strong opinions of strangers on the internet.
In all honesty, Kane wasn’t sure why he kept reading these comments himself. Yes, they did make him extremely self-cautious and a little sad, but he was almost addicted to them. It’s like he absolutely needed to know what others were saying about him, about his abilities, about his looks, his hair, his body. The validation from others meant a lot to Kane, even though he wished it didn’t.
He closed his laptop and pushed his chair away from his desk with a short glide. He was done interacting with people he couldn’t respond to, it was time for him to get a pep talk from someone who seemed fearless.
Kane rasped his knuckles against Cyth’s bedroom door, hoping that the knocking was loud enough to be heard over the music blasting from inside the room. After knocking a second time, the music turned down and the door swung open.
“What’s good?” Cyth asked, sounding a little irritated. Kane swallowed hard. He wasn’t as close to Cyth as he was with the other members, but he wasn’t sure who else he should talk to.
“I need advice.” Kane finally got out.
Cyth pursed his lips, nodding slowly before stepping aside, ushering the younger boy into his room.
Inside the room was dimly lit with green string-lights. A laptop was open on his desk, a production program running with an unfinished piece on display. Photos of people Kane has never met were posted on the wall next to Cyth’s bed. The rapper sat down at his desk, gesturing for Kane to sit on the edge of the bed. The younger boy sat down, clasping his hands together.
“So, I was reading some comments earlier...” Kane started. Cyth rolled his eyes.
“What?” Kane asked defensively.
“Nothing, that’s just very typical of you. Continue.” Sungho gestured with his hand. Kane rolled his eyes in return before continuing.
“I just wanna know how you stopped giving a shit.” Kane asked. “I’m addicted to looking up articles and comments about me. How do you ignore them? Aren’t you ever curious?”
Sungho took a deep breath, swiveling his chair from left to right while he thought.
“First off, I do give a shit.” Cyth cleared up. “I think every idol gives a shit. And I do read some comments from time to time, but instead of getting sad like I used to, I take that energy and put it towards getting better.”
Cyth turned his chair around to grab his laptop. He unplugged the computer from the charger before turning around to face Kane.
“Check out what I’ve been working on.” Cyth gave a small grin before pressing play. Kane listened along to the new beat that Cyth had created. It was different than anything Cyth has presented before. It sounded cleaner and more complete. After fifteen seconds, Cyth paused the music, leaning back with a smug smirk on his face.
“Haters told me to get better, so I made something so good that they will pop a blood vessel trying to hate on it.” Cyth said with a satisfied smirk. “That’s what you gotta do, man. Get so good at what you do that it’ll be hard to hate you. You have the talent, you just need the energy.”
Kane nodded, biting his lower lip. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am. I’m always right.” Cyth furrowed his eyebrows together, closing his laptop shut. “Now, get to bed. You can’t be the best if you’re groggy at practice tomorrow.”
