Chapter Text
Taehyung made it to the community hall with barely five minutes to spare. That hadn’t been the plan. He’d meant to arrive half an hour early, catch up with his friends, and spy on their brand-new conductor. But he’d been held up leaving his retail job, and then his bus had been late. The trip had been hot and crowded; he’d had to stand, jammed in a corner with his cello case, hoping the bus would just ignore the waiting passengers. His phone had pinged constantly, doubtless with messages from Jimin asking for updates, but he’d ignored them - he’d deal with that later. And now here he was, rushing through the doors, cross and sweaty with barely enough time to warm up before rehearsal. Hopefully the new conductor wasn’t the observant type.
Jimin was waiting in the foyer, bouncing in frustration. “Where have you been?” he asked. “Are you ignoring my texts? The new guy just arrived, and I need some moral support from my best friend before meeting him, but some people decided to run late—"
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” said Taehyung, pushing through into the auditorium. “At least I made it. What’s he like? As old and jaded as the last guy?”
“No, that’s the thing! He’s young, like barely older than us. Hoseok-hyung knows him, says he’s up-and-coming in the Seoul classical scene.”
Taehyung snorted. “I don’t know why he’s here with us, then.” He shoved his bag under a chair and began to undo his cello case.
“But also, listen, this is the important bit…” Jimin gripped his shoulder urgently. “He’s very hot, Taehyung.”
Taehyung grinned. No wonder Jimin was so antsy. “Are you planning to dazzle him?”
"Well there’s no time now, is there?” Jimin snapped. “I can’t just walk up to him and start talking, he’s a serious conductor. I need a plan.”
“No, you don’t,” scoffed Taehyung, “I bet you’ll amaze him without even trying.” Jimin still looked worried, so Taehyung paused to look deeply into his eyes. “We’ll talk during the break, okay? If you want, we’ll make a plan with fifty bullet points, to show him that you’re the greatest violinist and human on this earth. He won’t stand a chance.”
Jimin smiled, looking marginally less worried.
Taehyung glanced over at the orchestra seats. Most players were already in place, warming up their instruments. “We’re about to start, we should go and sit.”
Jimin nodded, then said, “Oh wait! There was some other news—”
“No time,” hissed Taehyung, grabbing his cello and bow. “Tell me everything later.”
He made his way to the cello section. Hoseok was already sitting in his place in the front desk. He was the cello section leader, and he treated the role with the same dedication and focus he gave to his actual paying gigs. Usually Taehyung was able to sit next to him - their seating hierarchy was pretty loose. But that seat was already taken, so he made his way to the back, slipped into the last chair next to a boy he didn’t know.
More players than usual were here tonight - everyone must be curious about the new conductor. Some of these people, Taehyung hadn’t seen in months. Of course, the regulars were here as well. Seokjin and Yoongi were in the viola section - in fact, they were the entire viola section, a duo who operated on slightly different rules to everyone else. Taehyung waved eagerly at them and received a nod from Yoongi and an exaggerated wink from Seokjin in return.
“Hi,” said the boy next to him.
Taehyung turned to look at him. He was pretty sure that this one was an entirely new face. Young - surely not long out of high school - and slightly tense. Maybe Hoseok had found him - he was always trying to recruit new cello protégés.
“First rehearsal?” asked Taehyung. “We’re a bit messy today - it’s been a while since we were all together.”
“Yes, I know,” said the boy. He continued to look at Taehyung, expectantly. “Do you…not—”
They were interrupted by a rapping from the podium - Taehyung gave the boy a brief smile and looked to the front. The new conductor was there, looking around at the ensemble. He was young and striking, with a friendly dimpled smile - he also seemed nervous, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Hello everyone,” he began. “My name is Kim Namjoon - I’m so pleased to see you all here tonight. I’m excited to lead this group - as a child, I first heard classical music at local community concerts. Now, I have a chance to give back. I have a lot of ideas, and I promise that we’ll do great things together.”
Seokjin cheered loudly and started clapping - next to him, Yoongi laughed quietly. Namjoon smiled at them both bashfully before continuing.
He had quite a musical background, as he detailed to them. It all sounded very impressive, but Taehyung drifted a little, losing track of names and places. He watched the other players instead. First impressions seemed positive - Seokjin and Yoongi were clearly on side, and Hoseok was also listening keenly, face lighting up when Namjoon made a silly pun. Oh, right - Hoseok already knew him, they were probably friends. Everyone wanted to be friends with Hoseok.
Now they were on to repertoire and rehearsal schedules - hopefully Jimin was writing all of this down. Taehyung stifled a yawn and glanced at the boy next to him; unexpectedly, the boy was already looking back. When they made eye contact, the boy raised his eyebrows. Taehyung gave him a puzzled squint and quickly refocused on the podium.
“—not really a formal audition, just a short piece to show us your level,” Namjoon was saying. “The section leaders will run things, but I’ll be here if I’m needed. And the following week, we can start working on new music!” He clapped his hands together. “Alright, that was a lot of talking. Let’s have a short break and meet back in fifteen minutes to try some playing.”
He stepped down as people began to move from their seats. Taehyung stayed still, confused - he’d clearly missed something. “Wait,” he said to the new boy, “what’s happening next week? Did he say audition?”
“Yes,” said the boy. “It’s to decide the seating.”
“But that’s not how we work! We…” —Taehyung waved his hand as he tried to think of the phrasing — “we have an egalitarian seating philosophy.”
The boy looked down his nose at him. “I guess things are going to be different now.” He carefully set his cello on the floor, then walked away.
Taehyung didn’t much like his new desk partner and his elitist attitudes. He needed some perspective: he needed Jimin.
Jimin was already on his way to find him; the two of them retreated to a quieter corner.
“I like him, what do you think?” asked Jimin. “He didn’t seem stuck up, even with all that fancy education. I thought he was funny, did you think he was funny?”
“Yeah, he’s great,” said Taehyung distractedly. “Jimin, why are we doing auditions? I thought the point of this group was that even terrible players were welcome.”
“Is it really an audition?” mused Jimin. “It’s just to help the section leaders arrange things. And god knows we need someone to give this group direction”
Taehyung grimaced. “But playing a solo? It’s different for you, you’re good at that sort of stuff, but you know I don’t like playing alone.”
Jimin looked at him searchingly. “Are you actually worried, Taetae? It’s just a short piece, and it’s only for Hoseok-hyung, you know he loves you. You’ll do fine.”
“I guess…”
Jimin kept peering at him, moving closer and closer until they bumped noses.
Taehyung laughed. “Okay, fine, you’re right, I won’t worry.” He breathed deeply, trying to dissolve the tension in his shoulders. “Oh, another thing! I think I offended the new kid in the cello section”
“Which kid?” asked Jimin, looking around.
“Over there - see near the wall? With the black t-shirt and floppy hair.”
“Oh, it is him!” squealed Jimin. “I heard he was coming, I didn’t have time to tell you before.” He beamed at Taehyung; Taehyung stared back blankly.
“You didn’t recognise him?” asked Jimin. “That’s Jeon Jungkook! From high school, remember, a few years below us. Wait, what do you mean you offended him?”
Jeon Jungkook? Taehyung had only vague recollections of his last years of high school, but there was an impression of someone… smaller? With more nose? Definitely someone more polite. “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully. “Maybe you’re thinking of a different Jungkook.”
“No, that’s him,” said Jimin. “Oh, he used to be so cute, I was really looking forward to a reunion! What did you say to him?”
Taehyung thought back over the evening. “He might… have recognised me, and been upset when I, um… ignored him…”
“Kim Taehyung!” said Jimin, glaring. “You need to fix this! This whole night must be overwhelming for him, he’s probably looking for a friend.”
Taehyung looked back over at Jungkook, who was standing next to Namjoon and listening thoughtfully to the conversation. He did not look in need of friends.
“I’ll try,” he said.
“Don’t just try, Taehyung. You’re very charming, I know you can make friends with him. Win him over!”
Taehyung did not win over Jungkook. He dithered for a while as the break ended, and decided that the best approach was to keep things light and casual. A simple “Hi again, I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you, I’m an idiot haha how funny, anyway how’ve you been?” would get things back on track. But when he got back to his seat, he only got as far as “Hi again” before trailing off, and Jungkook ignored him. For the rest of the night Jungkook kept his eyes resolutely on their shared music stand, and the only words he said were “Turn the page, please.” Taehyung was losing concentration - watching Namjoon and following the music, while also contemplating what to say, was too much all at once. The minute the rehearsal was over, Jungkook grabbed his instrument and walked off; Taehyung was left with headache and a sense of failure.
Many people stayed afterwards to talk. Various players clustered around the podium to meet Namjoon - Jimin was weaving his way determinedly to the centre of the knot - but Taehyung didn’t join them. He slowly packed up his cello instead, focusing on unwinding his bow, wiping down the strings, strapping the instrument securely into its velvet nest. Behind him people peeled away from the crowd, said their goodbyes, drifted out the door. Gradually the background chatter melded into a tuneless hum.
At some point the conversations broke up. Taehyung had the feeling that Jimin had been trying to call him over, but he didn’t say anything as the two of them left the hall and headed into the still-warm evening. Taehyung let his cello case trail behind him; the wheels rattled loudly on the pavement.
“I didn’t fix things with Jungkook,” said Taehyung eventually.
Jimin shot him a quick look. “You’ll do it next week. Everyone was preoccupied tonight.”
“Yeah.” They turned a corner. Taehyung lifted up his cello, then wished he’d kept dragging it - the clatter would have filled the silence. He pushed himself to say something. “You were having a long conversation. Namjoon have interesting things to say?”
“He did. We were talking about his musical influences.”
“Trying to get inside information to sway the judges?”
Jimin shrugged. “I was planning to rely on my natural charm and talent.”
“Good plan.” They’d reached their car. Jimin moved quietly as they loaded the instruments, his face tired. He’d looked happy, earlier in the evening; he’d been so bright and optimistic. Taehyung couldn’t let this bad mood spoil things.
“Things are looking up, right?” he said. “I know I got… thrown off by this audition thing, but you’re right, it’s no big deal. I’ll do fine and you’ll do great, and after next week we can focus on the exciting stuff! Like new players, and handsome new conductors.”
Jimin looked at him warmly. “I'm glad you think so. The orchestra’s going in a good direction now. We’re going to have a good time this season, I can feel it.”
---
Taehyung tried to carry the renewed optimism over into the following week. The orchestra had been going downhill the past few years - dwindling player-base, few concert opportunities, a series of disinterested conductors. After the last one left, they’d been without a leader for almost two months. The rehearsals, barely attended, had become mostly social sessions. But now Namjoon was here, and he cared. Jimin was right: they needed someone to shake things up, even if it meant auditions. And it was just one piece. Nothing to worry about
The next day, Jimin and Taehyung pulled out their old sheet music, deciding what to play. Jimin took it very seriously, poring over the notes with great concentration. He said he was nervous, wanted to make the right choice, but Taehyung could see the excitement sparking under his skin. It had been a long time since Jimin had the chance to perform.
Taehyung had a hard time choosing. There were options: Taehyung had played plenty of solo pieces, back when he was still doing lessons. But that was a long time ago - he couldn’t even remember what some of them sounded like. Eventually, with Jimin’s encouragement, he settled on a Bach movement.
“Are you sure?” he asked dubiously, running his finger along the staves. “I’m pretty rusty, and there are some hard bits in this.”
“But you loved it!” said Jimin eagerly. “You played it all the time at school, you didn’t even need the music. It will all come back with a bit of practice, I’m sure.”
Practicing was the next issue. When they’d first moved in to the apartment, they’d tried to play at home, but the walls were thin and there wasn’t much space. Taehyung in particular always found himself banging his elbow on something. Yeontan also caused problems - apparently, he wasn’t a classical music fan. Whenever one of them took out their instrument, he’d plant his fluffy body in front of them and yip until they stopped. Jimin still made the effort occasionally, but Taehyung, unenthused and fearful of noise complaints, had just stopped playing at home. Jimin’s current job had improved things - he’d sweet-talked the owners of the music institute into letting him practice there. That week, he took his violin to work every day, and tried to encourage Taehyung to come as well.
“No one would mind,” he said. “They’re happy to let you use a practice room in the evening after classes.”
“That sounds like a bother,” said Taehyung. “And it’s a long trip, especially with an instrument.”
“And yet I manage it every day,” said Jimin. “Don’t get discouraged! You can do it”
The trip to the institute wasn’t the real problem. Taehyung just… didn’t want to practice. He hadn’t needed to, the last few years. In theory, the orchestra members worked on the pieces in their own time, but Taehyung picked up what he could during the rehearsals and faked what he couldn’t. It wasn’t ideal, it would never fly in a professional setting, but he got by.
Well, apparently not any more. However lazy he was, he couldn’t show up to an audition with a piece he hadn’t touched for years. Despite Jimin’s nagging, he didn’t make it to the school, but the day before the next rehearsal, he locked himself inside the spare room and Yeontan out of it, put on a heavy practice mute, and played through the piece.
The first run-through was rough; the muscle memory just wasn’t there anymore. He got caught up several times, had to stop and reset. Once he hit the end, he put down his bow and sighed, pinching his nose. Don’t give up yet, he thought - play it again. He tried it another time, then once more. By the fifth attempt, he made it through without stopping, and most of the notes were correct. It wasn’t as good as before - in his memory, the piece was flowing, full of fun little details. Now it sounded dull. But it would have to do - there was no more time.
“That’s as good as it’s going to get,” he told Yeontan, opening the door to let the dog in. Yeontan trotted around, sniffed the cello, and gave him a deeply unimpressed look.
“Don’t judge me. You don’t even play an instrument.”
Yeontan made no response to this.
He told Jimin the good news as soon as he walked in the door. Jimin was pleased, bouncing around Taehyung in a happy circle. “You practiced! I knew you could do it! I’m nervous too, but tomorrow’s going to be fine. Just a few minutes of playing and it’s over. And after that we can start playing new music!” He sighed happily, leaning his head on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Don’t you want to play a concert again? We finally have a leader, someone who’s making plans and setting up performances. Maybe this time we’ll actually play in a proper concert hall.” He poked Taehyung’s cheek. “Big picture, Taehyungie! Don’t focus on the small stuff.”
Right. No need to blow things out of proportion. He’d get through tomorrow; everything would be fine.
---
Taehyung focused on a positive mindset as they arrived at the rehearsal hall the next day. He farewelled Jimin with a supportive hug and headed to the cello practice room. Four of the other cellists were already there, waiting in the hallway - only Hoseok was missing. Taehyung took a spot against the wall next to Jungkook.
“Nervous?” he asked. “I’m trying not to stress, but I’ve been thinking about this all day.” He smiled at Jungkook, aiming for friendly and relatable.
Jungkook didn’t smile back. “I’m not too worried,” he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the opposite wall.
Alright, Jungkook wasn’t going to run with the casual vibe. Taehyung needed to try harder.
“Listen,” he said earnestly, “I’m sorry about the last rehearsal. There was a lot going on, I was kind of distracted and I just… didn’t recognise you at first.” He grinned sheepishly. “Silly of me.”
Now Jungkook looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Really? We played together a lot in high school. You didn’t remember me at all?”
Taehyung winced. “I, um… didn’t pay a lot of attention during the last year of school.” More accurately, he’d tried to forget about most of that period of his life, but he wasn’t going to get into that now. “I’m more observant now though. I promise I won’t forget you again!” He chuckled lightly
No answering laugh from Jungkook. “I guess we’ll see,” he said flatly. He shifted to face further away from Taehyung, clearly finished with the conversation.
This wasn’t helping. Taehyung couldn’t focus on personal drama now - he had an audition to panic about. Deliberately, he looked away and started to run through his piece in his head, fingers moving to phantom notes.
Hoseok came down the hallway, smiling brightly. “Is everyone here? Great! Let’s get this done so we can go home early!” He gave Taehyung an encouraging pat on the shoulder as he passed.
Taehyung took a breath, ignored his speeding heart, and followed the other cellists into the room.
There was some shuffling as everyone unpacked, tuned up, set up chairs. Finally, all six of them were in place, Hoseok up the front and the rest in a semicircle before him. A single chair and music stand were in the middle of the room, ready for a performer.
“How’s everyone feeling?” asked Hoseok. There were several groans in response. He grinned. “Don’t worry, we’re all friends here. Who wants to go first?”
“I will,” said Eunyoung, one of the other cellists, immediately. “I want to get this over with.” She set up her music and took her seat. Before she began, she pointed her bow warningly at Hoseok. “I haven’t done a solo in twenty years, so make sure you keep your expectations low.” Hoseok laughed obligingly, before settling into an attentive posture.
The piece Eunyoung chose was smooth, pretty. She probably played it fairly well? Taehyung wasn’t actually listening - he was watching Hoseok. A switch had flipped, and Hoseok wasn’t in cheerful friend mode now. His eyes were focused; he barely blinked, alert to every detail. He and Eunyoung might have been the only people in the room. The music finished, and the smile switched back on again. The other cellists clapped; Taehyung joined a little belatedly.
“Thank you, that was lovely. Next up?”
Taehyung needed to play now. If he sat and watched any more of Hoseok’s scrutiny, he would shrivel up and die. “Uh, me next, please!” he burst out.
“Great enthusiasm! Come on up, Taehyung.”
Taehyung fumbled slightly as he set up his music. Sitting, he shot one last look around at the waiting audience. It would be fine. No one here wanted him to do badly. “Okay, here goes,” he said with a wobbly smile.
It went wrong from the start - the opening chord was out of tune. Wincing, he pushed on. He was playing too fast, his fingers struggling to reach their places in time. Relax, he told himself. Take your time. A few lines in, he got snarled up, lost his place, had to stop and reset. He fumbled through to the halfway point and paused.
“Um… should I keep going?”
“Do you know the rest?” asked Hoseok calmly. Taehyung nodded. “Play through to the end, then.”
Taehyung bashed his way through to the end of the piece. It was harsh, clumsy, like a child’s first attempt at playing. As soon as he finished, he grabbed his music and left the seat. He didn’t look at Hoseok - he couldn’t bear the pity. Instead, he pretended to be very interested in loosening his bow.
Jungkook stepped up next - he settled into the chair with no signs of nerves. “This might sound strange with no accompaniment,” he said to Hoseok with a shrug.
“We’ll imagine it. Just go ahead.”
Jungkook nodded, and began to play.
Within two seconds, it was clear he was a tier above anyone else in the room. He hit the opening phrase with flair, his tone strong and certain. The piece was fast, but it didn’t seem to worry him, his hand leaping cleanly around the fingerboard. As he listened, Taehyung grew angry. Why did Jungkook choose this flashy piece? Why was he even here, in this room? There was no way this group could measure up to his standards - did he just want to feel special, the biggest fish in the pond? Jungkook reached the end of a section and stopped. “That enough?” he asked, tone slightly cocky.
The other cellists applauded enthusiastically; even Hoseok looked impressed. Jungkook looked directly at Taehyung, wearing a small smile. Taehyung stared back expressionlessly. The smile shifted to a smirk, before Jungkook stood and moved back to his seat.
Taehyung had no idea what the last two cellists played. He was counting down the minutes until he could leave this room. Ideally he'd just go home, but he couldn’t leave without Jimin. As soon as Hoseok dismissed them, he was out the door, not pausing to chat with anyone. He was probably being rude - he didn’t care.
Luckily, he ran into no one on his way back to the main hall - the other sections must still be going. There was a dark corner behind a stack of chairs - Taehyung clambered in and wedged his cello case in front of him. Hidden, he pulled out his phone, found a mindless mobile game. He watched the cartoon characters jump about the screen until he felt calmer.
“Are you playing Hide and Seek in there?”
Taehyung looked up to see Seokjin peering over the cello case.
“I’m just sitting - this is a very relaxing spot.” Taehyung gestured at the stacked chairs and dusty wall.
Seokjin just nodded. “The violins are finally finishing, they’ll be out in a minute. Yoongi and I were much more efficient.”
“Did the two of you actually do an audition?” asked Taehyung, interested despite himself.
“We had a viola duel. I won, of course.”
Taehyung didn’t know what a viola duel was and was too afraid to ask.
“Ah, I see your boy coming now,” continued Seokjin. Standing up, Taehyung saw that Jimin was indeed entering the hall. He needed to move - Jimin would not be impressed that he was skulking in a corner.
“Congratulations on your win, hyung - see you next week,” he said, as he clambered out of his hiding spot.
Jimin spotted him straight away and walked over with a questioning look on his face.
Taehyung shook his head. “Didn’t go well,” he said shortly.
Jimin looked softly sympathetic. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Maybe you’re being too critical—”
“No, trust me, it wasn’t good.” He looked at Jimin’s worried face and shrugged, trying to look unbothered. “Hey, at least it’s done now, right? How did you go?”
“Alright, I think? I know I messed up the articulation on the—” Taehyung’s face must have been doing something unhappy, because Jimin cut himself off, reaching for Taehyung’s hand. “Never mind. We don’t need to talk about it now. Let’s do something fun! Some people are going to a bar, should we go with them?”
Taehyung did not want to go out - he wanted to collapse on the couch and bury his face in Yeontan’s fluffy fur. But Jimin was a beautiful flower who thrived in social settings; it would be unfair for Taehyung to make him come home and be boring.
“I might just head home,” he said tentatively. “But you should go! Get drinks, have fun, chat up Namjoon. I can take your violin home if you like?”
Jimin looked him over, his face subdued - maybe even disappointed? “Nah, I don’t want to go alone. We can just watch anime or something.”
Taehyung was relieved and guilty all at once. “Are you sure?” Jimin nodded. “Thank you, you’re the best! We’ll go next time, I promise. And I’ll be super happy and compliment you the whole evening. I’ve got some great ones saved up.”
Now Jimin was smiling - just a tiny one, but it was progress. “Is that right?” he asked. “Show me what you’ve got then.”
“You’re handsome and have great hair. Also very smart. Really of completely average height.”
Jimin scowled.
“Scratch that last one. Um, you’re the best, sweetest angel in the whole world.” Taehyung stepped closer to wrap his arms around Jimin, gently knocking their foreheads together. “You’re my very best friend, who’s always right about everything, and I’m lucky to have you.”
Jimin giggled. “You’re getting better. You should probably keep practicing, though. Just to be safe.”
So Taehyung kept practicing the whole way home.
---
The audition results came a few days later. They were sent over email, and luckily Taehyung was home alone that day. He saw the message arrive, and immediately remembered some urgent tidying he’d been meaning to get to. After rearranging the saucepans, sorting the recycling, and playing with Yeontan, he finally sat himself down to read the results.
The violins were top of the list. First was Joohyun, the orchestra’s leader and concertmaster. And right next to her, Jimin. Taehyung grinned, wriggling his feet in delight. Typical Jimin - doing an amazing performance but worrying away over minor details. They would have to celebrate.
He scrolled down to the cellists. Section leader Hoseok, desk partner Jungkook. Unsurprising. Second desk: Mikyung and Eunyoung. Third desk: Sungho and Taehyung.
Oh. Right then. Obviously he hadn’t played well, everyone had seen that, but the worst in the whole group…
Taehyung shut the email and closed the computer. The results were read - no need to think about them anymore. He’d concentrate very hard on other things for the next few days, and by the next rehearsal he’d be over it. It really wasn’t a big deal.
Jimin had obviously seen the email too - there was a message on Taehyung’s phone, reading, “How are you feeling, Taehyungie?” followed by several large-eyed emojis. Taehyung could just picture how the evening would go. Jimin would arrive home, hiding his excitement under a layer of concern. He’d ask a lot of leading questions about feelings and stare sympathetically. It would be awful
Taehyung messaged back, suggesting that they go to a noisy bar near Jimin’s work. When the two met up, Taehyung launched immediately into congratulations. He kept Jimin well supplied with soju, and every time cellos came up, he cheerfully and aggressively changed the subject. By the end of the evening, Jimin was soft and giggly, drooping happily onto Taehyung’s shoulder, and all orchestra talk had stopped.
---
Taehyung kept his head up as he walked into the next rehearsal behind Jimin. He wasn’t going to mention the new seating arrangements, and hopefully no one else would either. Ignore the issue, and everyone would forget soon enough.
Unfortunately for this plan, the first person they saw was Jungkook.
“Jungkookie, hi!” called Jimin. “Congratulations on your new spot!”
“Thank you,” said Jungkook proudly. “You did well too - front of the first violins!”
“I know, it’s exciting! I hope I’m up to it,” said Jimin shyly.
“I’m sure you will be - you must have worked hard.”
They both looked at Taehyung.
“Well, I need to go,” he said, and stomped away with his cello. He unsnapped his case with a little more force than necessary.
By the time he took his seat, he’d put his game face back on, determined to be positive. Yes, he’d miss playing next to Hoseok and making him laugh, and sadly, his new seat was also too far away to steal Seokjin’s pencil, or poke at Yoongi with his bow. But at least he wasn’t next to Jungkook anymore - there was a plus.
His new desk partner wasn’t immediately inspiring. Sungho was a taciturn middle-aged man who’d been with the orchestra for many years, despite not seeming to enjoy it all that much. He didn’t make any response to Taehyung’s attempts to strike up conversation, but it was early days yet. There was plenty of time for a fulfilling friendship to develop.
When Namjoon arrived, he announced that the orchestra was going to take an experimental approach - he had a stack of brand new pieces for them to try out. Apparently, he wanted to get a feel for their style and particular strengths. Sight-reading was not Taehyung’s particular strength, and several hours of trying to keep up as the group stumbled their way through new music wasn’t his favourite way to spend an evening. But it was fine- this was just temporary, things would settle down soon. Really, after all the drama of the last few weeks, it was good to have a boring evening.
Things began looking up once the rehearsal ended. Sometimes, a small group of them went to get dinner or drinks afterwards, usually Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok and the violas. Taehyung liked those outings, sometimes more than the rehearsals themselves. Tonight, there were some extra people - Namjoon and Joohyun had been invited along. And also Jungkook. Well, maybe a big group would be fun, and with so many people, Taehyung could avoid anyone he didn’t want to talk to.
The group dynamic was less casual than usual. Joohyun was a very competent concertmaster, who Taehyung avoided during rehearsals as much as possible. She was a little less terrifying in this new setting, but he still didn’t try talking to her. He had the feeling she wouldn’t find his jokes very funny. Namjoon, too, was less distant than he seemed on the podium, but his passion and drive were still very clear.
Currently, the two of them were having some important but impenetrable conversation about rehearsal scheduling. Yoongi had said he wasn’t listening, but he kept interrupting to correct Namjoon. Usually, Taehyung would be exchanging eye-rolls and making faces at Jimin, but Jimin and Hoseok were both following the conversation with apparent interest. Seokjin was busy teasing Jungkook, who sat stiffly next to him like a large and scared rabbit. So, Taehyung sat down the end of the table, swirled his straw in his drink, and tried not to look bored.
Namjoon was speaking animatedly. “I think it’s really important for group cohesion to perform as soon as possible.”
“It’s going to be difficult to get any reasonable venue before November,” Joohyun said briskly.
Namjoon frowned. “That’s so far away. Could we do something small in our current space?” He looked questioningly at Hoseok. “That wouldn’t take as long to prepare, especially if the group was willing to do a few extra rehearsals…”
Hoseok nodded thoughtfully, but Yoongi cut in.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “You can’t ask for extra rehearsals - people have their own lives. Right, Seokjin?”
Seokjin was sticking straws into Jungkook’s hair and didn’t answer.
Yoongi changed targets. “Back me up here, Taehyung. You don’t want to give up your free time to rehearse extra hours with this sorry bunch, do you?”
Several pairs of eyes turned to Taehyung. He stared back blankly. “Umm…”
Yoongi gave a rueful laugh. “I think we were being rude.” He turned to poke Namjoon in the shoulder. “No more shop talk. We’re boring the kids.”
Neither Jungkook nor Jimin seemed to appreciate being called a kid. Jungkook puffed up indignantly, and Jimin said, “Oh, it was really interesting! I just didn’t want to interrupt.”
“No, I agree, enough for tonight,” said Joohyun. “I’m getting a headache.” She smiled at Jimin. “You’re seeing all the dull parts of leading a section. Is it scaring you off?”
“I didn’t realise how much extra work there was,” said Jimin. “But I don’t need to worry - I’m not the leader, unless you suddenly leave us.”
Joohyun hummed in consideration. “I’m not planning on it, but there’s always the second violins, if you were interested.” She met Jimin’s surprised eyes and laughed gently. “It’s a lot of commitment for just a hobby. But think about it.”
Jimin nodded, glowing.
“What about you, Jungkookie?” asked Seokjin. “Are you planning on stealing our Hoseok’s chair?”
Jungkook had finally relaxed enough to look like a person. “Oh no hyung, I wouldn’t dare!” he giggled. “Hoseok-hyung is too scary.” Hoseok gave Jungkook a mock-scary glare; Jungkook grinned in response. Apparently he was stealing all of Taehyung’s friends now. Great.
“Besides, I’m doing so much other cello stuff nowadays,” Jungkook continued. “I don’t have enough time - I’d probably do a bad job.”
Taehyung snorted into his drink. He hadn’t meant anyone to hear him, but several people turned to look. Jungkook met his eyes, no longer smiling.
“Has Jungkook ever done a bad job in his life?” asked Taehyung, more bitterly than he’d intended. Raising his glass to Jungkook, he said, “You’re an ambitious young man - I’m sure you’d make it work.” He fished an ice cube out of his glass and chewed on it, loudly.
There was a short silence.
“Well, I don’t want the job,” said Yoongi. “I wouldn’t be section leader if you paid me. Putting up with Seokjin is bad enough.”
“You’re just bitter that I won our viola duel,” said Seokjin smugly.
“I told you, playing louder doesn’t mean you played better—”
The conversation was swiftly steered back to smoother waters. Taehyung stayed silent; he knew he was sulking but couldn’t bring himself to stop. No one had suggested that he might want to lead the cellos. Obviously not - clearly he wasn’t leader material. Still, it might have been nice if his friends hadn’t pointed out his failings in front of an entire restaurant. Taehyung slurped up another ice cube. Jungkook looked over at him; Taehyung stared back and crunched deliberately until he looked away.
They finished the meal not long after. There was a fierce battle over who would pay the bill - Seokjin emerged victorious and handed over his credit card. People said their goodbyes and left. Yoongi squeezed Taehyung on the shoulder as he passed; Taehyung looked up and smiled faintly. Jimin and Jungkook stayed at the table, still deep in a conversation. Taehyung watched them for a moment, but they were absorbed, so he went to wait by the door. He found a spot near the entrance, tucking himself in next to a pot plant.
He wasn’t eavesdropping. He was just waiting for his friend. If certain people happened to be talking loud enough to be heard from across the room - well, whose fault was that?
“— doing something wrong?” Jungkook asked.
“It might help if you stopped… pushing at him?” said Jimin. “I know you’re competitive, but you could back off a bit.”
“So it’s my fault he hates me,” said Jungkook morosely.
“No one hates you, you over-dramatic goose. He’s just stubborn, okay? Give him time.”
The two of them got up and came towards the door - Taehyung looked quickly down at his phone. Jungkook mumbled some sort of goodbye as he passed, but Taehyung ignored him, not lifting his eyes until he was gone. Jimin stood across from him, arms folded.
“Listening in on other people’s conversations?” he asked.
“Absolutely not,” said Taehyung. “Talking about me behind my back?”
He expected Jimin to snap back at him, but he just sighed, looking sad. “I don’t know what’s happening with you lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“Three weeks in a row now you’ve been sulking and picking fights. Is it the new people? Is it…” — Jimin swallowed— “Is it that I like Namjoon? Do you want me to stop talking to him?”
Taehyung’s grumpiness vanished in an instant, washed away by a wave of guilt. “No, Jiminie, no.” He stepped forward and grabbed Jimin’s hands. “I promise that’s not it. It’s just a lot of change all at once, and I’m being stubborn idiot about it.”
Jimin was still looking small and fretful. “Everyone in the orchestra is excited,” he said. “I’m excited. We have a new conductor, we’re making concert plans, I got this new position… except you don’t seem pleased about any of it. It’s hard to be happy when you’re being so negative.”
Taehyung was the worst person in the world. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll try harder - I know I always say that, but I really mean it this time.” He pulled Jimin into a hug, nuzzling into his shoulder. “You deserve to be happy,” he said into his collarbone. “You deserve it more than anyone else on the planet. Please please please, forgive me.”
Jimin spat some of Taehyung’s hair out of his mouth. “Of course I forgive you, Taetae. I just want you to be happy too. Just give things a chance.”
“I’ll be the most dedicated orchestra player you’ve ever seen,” promised Taehyung. “I’m going to be so happy, I swear. Just you watch me.”