Work Text:
"Although I'm forced to deny myself and my passions, I'll never forget them."
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Dongho loved the piano. He loved the smoothness of the keys, the clearness of the notes, and the simplicity of wood and paint.
While alighting his fingers on each key, he could feel the pulsing of life beneath each one. The strings connecting to a hammer playing the rhythmic drum drum of a heartbeat.
Yet, even yet, as a piano prodigy, he couldn't excel in everything. As his mind worked nimbly among the keys, notes, and key signatures if failed to comprehend simpler things.
No, he wouldn't read the sentence on the board. It wasn't interesting enough, didn't make sense why he should. Yet he did it to bring a smile to his parent's faces.
"Our little Dongho," they'd say whenever he scored perfectly in a class. Never when he played the piano.
Dongho didn't even know if they'd heard him play at all. Their attention would be on the screens in front of them, constantly texting or sending out emails. The delicate sounds were lost on them, the quiet sounds falling on deaf ears.
Jeongmin would listen and applaud, cheering Dongho on whenever his fingers stumbled on the ivory-colored keys. He would take a breath and start again, getting frustrated with the certain parts, often quitting for the day.
Jeongmin didn't yell at him when he failed to push through the frustration, instead, he guided Dongho's fingers and together they danced through the piece. When the last notes died away, the piano weary from singing so long, Jeongmin would smile.
Dongho liked seeing the kind smile decorating the Bulter's face, yet there was an ache that longed to see it upon his parents.
Long nights were spent pouring over notes and sight-reading tactics, yet for what? Dongho never felt so empty.
He thought he'd never feel so empty again.
Korea welcomed him with open arms, calling to him to just take a breath. The first round of auditions went well. Dongho would often steal away to sing with the piano in the practice room, alone from the other trainees.
It was fun until they had to dance.
Dongho, whose fingers were so skilled and nimble on the piano, was clumsy on his feet. Often he'd wonder why it was so hard, and now there was no Jeongmin to help him through the different steps. He was supposed to move to the music.
Instead of flowing like water, he felt like a tsunami. Choppy and violent. Time to flow like a river was sacrificed to tame the seas.
Minsoo would often try and help him, the two growing closer than Dongho would ever care to admit. The ache of never being recognized by his parents numbed in favor of trying to debut. He and Minsoo shared that goal.
Once Dongho managed to nail the choreography, it felt so good.
Minsoo clapped with the same look Jeongmin had whenever Dongho managed to play a difficult piece. Often, the two were content to sit while Dongho played and Minsoo danced.
If only it weren't a fluke.
If only he was actually good at dancing, moving.
Many more hours were spent, forcing himself to hit the move. It was worth it to see Minsoo smile, but Dongho had never done anything for himself.
Why was he, Kang Dongho working so hard for a goal he didn't want to achieve?
Neither he nor Minsoo was selected to be in a group.
Instead, the two would often sit at the black beauty, wearing with use.
Dongho would play whatever tune was in his mind, and the two would sing. As the music floated around the room, Dongho could almost see a future for them.
A future without dancing, a future where a silver-haired Minsoo would sing robed in white and gossamer wings. He'd be playing a piano that was always tuned, always ready to sing.
Yet that wasn't an idol life, that wasn't who Minsoo wanted to be.
Dongho forced himself to be content with dancing and rapping, something so harsh. He'd rather sing, letting his voice accompany the lower range of the shining keys.
When the two of them were paired up with other boys to debut, Dongho cried.
This was happening, there were no second thoughts, he couldn't back out. He knew it was time to say goodbye and poured his heart out, making the piano sing. Minsoo sat and listened to the song that poured into the instrument.
It was badly out of tune, and when the crescendo of sounds reached its peak, the note that would rise as triumphant wouldn't sing.
His ballad fell flat, the keystone of his project mute and listless.
Dongho had fled, tears in his eyes.
When Dongho debuted. Already? He went along with the concepts picked out for them. Minsoo was in silver and white, just like Dongho had imagined. Yet unlike his imagination, it was a harder look than what suited them.
Minsoo should be singing ballads, accompanied by crystal clear notes from a piano with all its hammers at attention, the strings taut and ready.
The dorms housed a small keyboard. It was no grand concert piano, but it was familiar. Dongho hesitantly pressed the keys, worried he wouldn't be invited to coax a melody out of the instrument.
However, from the first key Dongho was swept away in the sounds. Colors seemed brighter, and the familiar voice joined them. The three of them sang one tune, lyrics flowing from their mouths.
It was a song Minsoo had written and Dongho had played. A song that had no sheet music, yet Dongho saw each inky note as if it sat on crisp white paper.
Each note sat where it was supposed to, and it was interesting. It made sense. He liked it. Minsoo liked it. They would sit, just like the trainee days playing and singing, letting the different moods take them away.
Sometimes it was short and sweet, other times jazzy and smooth. More often than not, ballads would fill the area.
Dongho never played the piece he had when they debuted. He was too afraid the note would fall flat again, too scared it wouldn't work.
Minsoo didn't ask him about it.
Yet, messy sheets of notes showed Dongho had written it down for someone else to play.