Chapter Text
“Are you sure you don’t want to come? Yoongi-hyung said, that he’s going to treat us. To celebrate the premiere.”
“I’m sure. You go on without me.”
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow at rehearsal then?”
“I’ll be here at 7am sharp.”
“Don’t stay for too long, Tae.”
“I won’t. Now go, you don’t want to keep hyung waiting, Jiminie.”
“Right.”
Taehyung watched with an amused smile how Jimin scrambled to collect all his belongings, waved to him one more time and then rushed out the backstage door.
When he heard the satisfying click of the lock falling into place, the young man let out a breath of air, that he didn’t know he had been holding.
Silence enveloped him as he stepped out onto the stage, a familiar glow of the opera’s lights falling onto his skin. Here was where he felt at home. Here was where he felt at peace.
One year had passed since he first had set foot onto this stage. Since he first had been offered the opportunity to perform as a opera singer.
He had had his doubts at first. Didn’t think that he would be good enough. But Jimin convinced him, that he belonged onto the stage. That he’d been born for it.
And...there was someone else.
Someone, that had believed in him and encouraged him to keep going.
An angel of music.
Closing his eyes, Taehyung took a deep breath one hand curling into the fabric of his dress shirt as he remembered how he had met the angel.
His voice had cracked.
Cracked at the most important part of the song.
Even squeezing his eyes close as tight as possible he couldn’t get rid of the disappointed faces of the directors. Like they had made a mistake in giving him the main role in their newest production.
Him. A newcomer. A nobody.
“Don’t think of yourself so low.”
The sudden sound of a foreign voice caused Taehyung to spin around in his seat. But there was no one there. Only him.
“Over here.”
The mirror?
Taehyung rose from his seat and approached the object with wary steps. How could have anyone entered his dressing room before him? He was in the possession of the only key.
Rounding the metallic framed object, Taehyung tried to brace himself for what he would see. He gasped when his eyes met not his own, but another.
A person was staring back at him from where his reflection should have been.
“Hello, beautiful.”
Their first encounter had left Taehyung in shock.
Thinking back on it now, the young man felt a small smile overtake his features. There was no way that he would ever regret staying. To listen and learn from this angel.
Or phantom as others would call him. A mere ghost, that was haunting the opera’s halls and would chase away those that he wouldn’t deem worthy of standing on stage.
But for Taehyung he was neither ghost nor phantom. Rather a mere boy that had lost his path in life due to a fire, which had left him with scars. Both mentally and physically. A mask now covering his face, to hide his wounds from the view of the outside world.
Taehyung didn’t even know his name.
Maybe he shouldn’t be this trusting. Should have spoken up about his encounter to the directors, who kept worrying about ways to stop the phantom’s sabotaging acts.
But a man in love was a foolish one.
And so he didn’t tell anyone about his tutor, his angel of music.
He-
“You did wonderful today.”
Taehyung’s eyes snapped open at the sudden sound of a voice so close to his ear, his head whipping around to stare into a pair of familiar eyes looking at him from underneath a white mask. He felt his knees weaken at the intense look their brown colour was holding.
“Thank you.” His voice sounded breathless as it always did when he was so close to the dark haired man. “It’s because of your lessons. You are a wonderful teacher.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” The angel let his fingers dance over Taehyung’s throat, sending shivers down his spine. His touch was so gentle, so careful, as if he was afraid to break him. “I am merely giving shape to an already beautiful entity.”
Taehyung couldn’t help but blush at the subtle praise, lowering his gaze with a shy smile dancing around his lips. He’d never get enough of hearing that the other loved his singing voice.
Maybe it was foolish to fall for this mysterious man, but it was far too late for Taehyung to turn back. He had lost this fight a long time ago, after the angel had not only stolen his heart but his entire being.
And yet…
“When will you finally tell me your name?” His big eyes found those of his lover again, after he had turned around to face him.
The other seemed surprised at the sudden change of topic, but only for a mere moment before his eyes softened again and his hands rested themselves on Taehyung’s hips.
“This again, Taehyung?”
“Don’t I have a right to know?”
“Nobody says otherwise.”
“Then why-” He couldn’t formulate the rest of his question as he was interrupted by the tip of a finger pressing against his lips, successfully silencing him.
“Would it really mean so much to you to know my name?” The angel asked after a few moments of silence, gaze unwavering and clear.
Taehyung nodded. He wanted to finally be able to call the other’s name, feel what it would taste like on his tongue. As if it’d be as sweet as his singing voice. Light and airy.
The angel’s lips curled into a smile, hauntingly sweet and promising, his thumb brushing over his lower lip. “How about we retreat for today? You have told your friends not to wait for you?” He seemed pleased at the way Taehyung jerked his head briefly in confirmation and he reached down to interlace their hands. “Good. Then come.”
There was no resistance from Taehyung as he was pulled towards a hidden exit of the stage, his voice a mere whisper when he asked. “Will you...Will you sing to me again?”
He couldn’t see the expression of the other’s face when he turned his head to look at him, dark hair and the mask covering it up almost completely. “Would you like that, Taehyung?”
“Yes.”
A breathless answer followed by an airy, almost boyish laugh from the so called phantom.
“You sound so eager.”
“Well...I really do love your singing, angel.”
“...I am everything but an angel.”
“For me, you are.”
Standing on the edge of a staircase, the masked man looked up into Taehyung’s eyes clearly searching for something that would indicate the lie in his words. But he wouldn’t be able to find it. Because there was none to begin with.
“You fascinate me, Kim Taehyung.” The angel finally said after a brief pause, which caused a smile to settle on Taehyung’s face.
Once again he hadn’t been able to find out the name of the mysterious boy, that had helped him in so many ways to improve. Hours and hours of practice. Alone. Just the two of them sitting in his dressing room or the boy’s layer, that he lived in. Nights spent practicing before a big premiere until they would almost tip over or fall asleep.
Maybe he shouldn’t have heeded the angel’s call when he’d heard it the first time. Should have listened to the warnings of the other singers. Should have told his best friend Jimin about it. But he hadn’t had the heart to do so, because before he’d known it it had been to late.
He had fallen in love.
And he was loved back.
Even if he wouldn't say it out loud. He could see it in the other’s eyes. Feel it in his touch. The way he would hold him. Treasure him. Protect him.
For now, this was all he wanted. Needed.
For as he let himself be led deeper into the depths of the opera, he understood what others meant by saying that “once the phantom of the opera has you in its grasp, it won’t let you go” .
And Taehyung was fine with that.
He really was.
Because here he could feel at peace and listen to his angel.
Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation
His angel of music.
Darkness wakes and stirs imagination