Work Text:
There was nothing more exhilarating than to stand on stage. The adrenaline pumping through his veins was better than any drug could possibly be - not that Chen, front singer of X would know anything about drugs. Nope, never. A twenty-five year old rockstar on the rise, sporting mussed up hair and kohl liner, hopping from dingy bar stages to glittery afterparties in an alarmingly brief time span, caught with illegal substances? Completely unthinkable.
Yet Kim Jongdae could claim with his whole chest that anything beyond the occasional drink (or two, or three, if the party was worth a damn) wasn't for him. Cigarettes weren't good for his voice, drugs weren't good for his coordination, and all of it came in the way of his true love - performing. Among fellow stars, that made him a bit of a goody-two shoes, which was certainly ironic. He doesn't think he'll ever get over the irony of seeing squeaky clean pop idols smoke weed in the backrooms of award shows. This time, he passed by a bunch of cutesy girlies smoking cigarettes, followed by two guys not-so-discreetly making out in the shadows. Jongdae considered acting like a paparazzi for a second, but decided against it. He should save the energy thrumming under his skin for the performance, and making enemies wasn't the most productive pastime in this business.
He'd just left the styling room, getting the last touches on his messy hair, and it wouldn't be too long until the award show started. A childish part of him wished it was one of those shows where all the winners get notified ahead of time - but no, he and his bandmembers would perform, whether they won the Rookie of the Year award or not. And they'd have a blast doing so.
Jongdae rounded a corner, taking a flight of stairs to maybe sneak a look at the slowly filling venue, when he saw one of his fellow competitors for the rookie award. His least favourite one - a bubbly internet celebrity called Minnie, who had gone viral that year for her lively performances. Thus far, she had never performed live, not even a single time. No stages, no uncut footage, no nothing. In Jongdae’s book that equaled probably not being able to sing those songs she promoted.
Now Jongdae would admit it any day, he was a bit of a prejudiced music snob, and while he might agree that dancing was a valid skill, lipsyncing to some stuff, cutting it, and posting it online? People could do what they want but if this person would win the award over him, he'd be pissed. Sure, on top of being , like, so bubbly and quirky, she also supposedly had a killer voice. Key word being supposedly because whenever she appeared in public, she wouldn't even speak. Ever. Not a single peep. Which Jongdae may or may not have experienced first hand now because he may or may not have kept an eye on her ever since he arrived. But no, all she did was stand around, shoot a bright, gum-revealing smile and wave at people, with her sparkly eyes and styled pigtails bouncing whenever she tilted her head. He'd never seen a human be closer to a disneyland mascot - this girl was the true incarnation of the accusation of idols being paid for being pretty. She'd go up on stage in a few hours, hop around and move her lips to the prerecorded audio, and that was it.
To Jongdae, who lived and breathed music, it was pretty annoying. An emotion he'd channel into his performance, because he was nothing if not spite-driven.
As he passed by Minnie and her drab-looking stylist (the one actually talking to people), a few things happened all at once.
First, he got a whiff of extremely sweet perfume. Secondly, he was pretty sure there was enough glitter on this girls' face to permanently blind a man.
Oh, and thirdly, Minnie tripped over a piece of her own dress and fell down the stairs.
Before Jongdae knew it, he'd grabbed her arm, the other clawing onto the railing as Minnie let out a squeal.
A pretty... deep squeal.
More like a yelp.
For a second that lasted five minutes, they just stood there, with Minnie giving him a wide-eyed look while Jongdae was still clutching her arm. Her very muscular arm.
"Oh my god," the stylist muttered, eyes darting around for any potential onlookers.
Then the second unexpected turn of events happened, as Jongdae was being grabbed by delicate, but surprisingly strong fingers, and Minnie dragged him down the hallway, with her stylist following along.
"Hey-" Jongdae began. The stylist shushed him - an action so random that it actually worked, if only for a split-second. Before Jongdae could find his voice, he was dragged into an empty dressing room, the door slamming shut behind him.
"You're a man," he burst out.
Minnie gave him a smile that was equal parts wide as it was fake. Kinda like the surprise on her face.
"What?" she asked, voice high-pitched and full of faux innocence. "No!"
Jongdae gave her a blank look while the stylist let out a long, suffering whine ful of desperation.
"That's it, we're done," she groaned. "Oh god. Oh. My. God-"
"Okay now, Myeonnie, don't hyperventilate," Minnie said comfortingly, voice dropping along with his pretense. "It'll be fine. I'm sure he's a perfectly nice guy who won't tell on you. Right?"
The last word was directed at Jongdae, who was still a bit too flabbergasted to be witty.
"Tell on what?"
"See? It's fine, he's stupid," Minnie said in a soft, comforting tone.
"Excuse me?" Jongdae burst out, only to receive an accusatory hush.
"Can't you see she's upset?" Minnie asked. Before Jongdae could pick his jaw off the floor, the stylist started wailing.
"We're done for," she cried dramatically. "They'll know I'm a fraud! The whole world will know and it'll be all over the news and my parents will find out and, oh god, what if I go to jail-"
The rest of her imaginary trip to jail was cut off by Minnie squishing her cheeks with both his hands.
"Myeonnie. Hey. Breathe."
The girl took a deep breath, adding to her current look of a pouty blowfish. Minnie did the same, exaggerating the motion.
"In... and out. There you go. Isn't it amazing what wonders oxygen can do for your brain? Air, man, am I right?"
"So you're a guy," Jongdae stated blankly. Minnie shot him an exasperated look.
"Yeah. So?"
Still stumped, Jongdae gave him another once over, from his perfectly curled hair past the ruffles accentuating his chest, down to his stocking-clad legs.
"Pervert," the guy said flatly.
Jongdae choked on nothing.
"What?"
Minnie shrugged.
"What? That look just now? Please. Keep it in your pants."
"Okay, if I don't get an explanation within the next three seconds, I'm leaving," Jongdae announced, completely ignoring the heat creeping up his neck. If he was being honest, he wouldn't have had any intention of blabbing on whatever he'd just witnessed, anyway, but the flimsy threat was enough for the fragile stylist to break down.
Within the blink of an eye, she was right before him, fingers clawing into his bare arms.
"No!! I'll tell you, please-"
"One-"
"Just promise me you won't tell anyone?"
"Two-"
"I'M MINNIE," the girl burst out, comically panicked. Behind her, he could see the guy facepalm.
"Okay," Jongdae began, adapting a comforting tone himself now. "I mean. Any louder and you won't have to worry about me telling anyone anymore."
"I'm sorry," the girl whispered, wiping her suspiciously wet eyes. Jesus, she was gonna cry. Jongdae could deal with crying fans, but crying strangers hadn't exactly been part of the ruthless fan-interaction seminar he'd been at.
"It's- it's always been me," she admitted, clearly trying to keep her sniffles in. She was failing miserably but Jongdae honoured her attempt by pretending it was working. "I just like singing, you know? But, but I don't want to film myself because I'm just not pretty or entertaining or anything and then, one day, he was all dressed up and he pretended he was me, and mixing ou names equaled Minnie, and it was just for fun, but then the video had three million views and we just kept going and-"
"Whatever his name is, he was right," Jongdae cut her off. "Breathe. Please. Or use more periods, either will work."
"Minseok," the guy calmly called from the back, arms crossed. "That's my name."
Jongdae nodded.
"Right. So all this time, you've been the one singing while he performed the songs."
"He's slow, but at least he's crawling in the right direction," Minnie- Minseok offered.
Jongdae glared at him, but the next thought was already blossoming on his tongue.
"Then how the hell are you gonna perform later? Lipsync all the way through, mic off? How are you gonna hold a speech? This is-"
"-an insanely stupid idea," the girl, Myeonnie(?), finished for him. "We know. But what were we supposed to do?"
"Be... honest and tell the truth?" Jongdae asked slowly, trying to process whether he was the insane one in this equation. Minseok snorted.
"Please, it will be fine," he hummed, waving them off. "It's worked thus far. People will just think of it as an art project or whatever. And if you step up one day, they'll celebrate you. Today could be that day, you know?"
It was comical just how fast Myeonnie could go from blotchy and red-faced to white as a sheet.
"No. Nu-uh. I told you I won't do that. I could never."
Minseok sighed, fingers pinching his forehead.
"If that's what you want, fine. Either way, you're not gonna tell on us, will you?"
He was smiling when he posed the question to Jongdae. Having been in the industry for a hot second, Jongdae had seen his fair share of terrifying smiles on women, but this guy in a wig might just take the cake.
He shrugged.
"Doesn't really concern me. Though you better not snatch that award from us."
"Or what, you gonna cry?" Minseok had the audacity to ask, complete with a fake cutesy hand gesture of wiping tears.
Jongdae couldn't decide if he wanted to punch the guy or- or something.
A bell cut off whatever scenarios Jongdae could think up, calling for the artists to gather for a last soundcheck.
"Ah, we better go," Minseok said, patting Myeonnie's shoulder. "Come on."
"What do you even need to attend a soundcheck for?" Jongdae grumbled, following them out of the room and down the hallway.
"Quit bitching," Minseok whispered, shooting him yet another candid smile.
Jongdae huffed, but they were starting to walk past bustling staff members and fellow artists, forcing him into silence. He could feel people's eyes on them, no doubt ogling the unexpected combination of a rock vocalist clad in enamel pants accompanying an adorable girl decked out in enough pastel bows to put an archery tournament to shame.
"People are staring," Myeonnie stage-whispered, her smile so stiff that Jongdae was tempted to squish her cheeks the way Minseok had earlier. She looked sweaty and about ready to combust - he started to see how she might not be naturally inclined to star in music videos.
"They're probably impressed by how much fabric you can staple to a single dress," Jongdae deadpanned, lips quirking into a smile when he addressed Minseok. "It's a very cute costume, by the way. Did you make it yourself?"
Minseok's smile didn't waver in the slightest as he made a denying shake of his hand.
"A friend of ours made it," Myeonnie explained. "Though Minseok- uh-"
"And your other friend gave his approval?" Jongdae offered smoothly. "How sweet. Maybe next time, Minnie can choose her dress by herself."
Minseok stuck out his tongue, somehow managing to look cute while doing so.
Actually, come to think of it, every single thing Minseok did was cute. Adorable, really.
And Jongdae did think about it as he sat at the sidelines, watching him receive a brief run-down of his stage. While the judgement among their peers was obvious, the staff members didn't seem to give a damn that her mic would be off during the entire performance. Well, no mic, no audio malfunctions, Jongdae mused. Good for them.
He watched Minseok listen with wide eyes, watched him nod and cock his head to the side whenever something confused him.
An art project. In a way, he was right about that. There was certainly much stranger performance art out there. Still, Jongdae would be lying if he said he was okay with this sort of act competing with him. It felt mildly insulting to the hours and hours he and his band members had poured into writing, singing, and playing instruments.
Myeonnie, yes, he could compete with her - if the notes blasting from Minseok's phone were any indication. But the girl in question was sitting at the sidelines, hiding her eyes between a haircut so mousy it bordered on being a parody of itself. Meanwhile Minseok bounced off to the sidelines, practicing his set one last time. It seemed to mostly act as further distraction for his nervous friend but Jongdae couldn't help discreetly shuffling closer, anyway, as Minseok ran through their stage one last time.
Minseok didn't move his lips but he did dance. And watching him dance, well. Jongdae felt an almost visceral tug (read: stubbornness) in his stomach, urging him on to not be as mesmerized as he was. Obviously, he wasn't unfamiliar with the concept of stage presence, but seeing the stark difference of exaggerated, adorable short videos and watching Minseok perform for his humble audience of one was nauseating.
His smile was blinding, his every move bursting with energy, expressions over the top, but in a self-aware, cheeky kind of way. There was not an ounce of hesitation or shame in his light, bouncy steps. It evoked a weird, swirly sensation in his stomach that he couldn't quite define. Something something, annoyance and confusion and daze.
Minseok met his eyes the moment the performance was over, making it very clear that he'd been aware of Jongdae's peeping- attention. Of Jongdae's attention.
He shook his head. This guy was confusing him. He'd never been into dress up games, and he'd never been into feminine guys and the only reason this was throwing him off was the sheer absurdity of the situation.
"A voyeur, too, huh?" a voice whispered into his ear. Jongdae flinched away from him. The moment he saw a flash of a cat-like grin, he knew he'd lost - recordings may not be allowed but someone had probably just filmed him flinching away from a cute little girl like she was some kind of demon. Embarrassing.
"I am not a voyeur," he hissed back, crossing his arms. He could see Minseok's eyes linger on his tattooed sleeve, flitting over his rings-
"Nail polish?" he whispered. "Cute. You applied it yourself?"
Jongdae gave him an unimpressed look.
"Yeah," he said flatly. "So? You're wearing an entire boutique of costume jewelry on your nails."
Minseok smiled, wriggling his very flashy fake nails in his general direction.
"I know, right?"
Jongdae rolled his eyes, watching a few staff members struggle to fix the mic of two people who most defintiely couldn't sing without massive aid by a computer.
An entirety of five seconds later, Minseok used his plastic claws to poke his cheek.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning in close enough for Jongdae's eyes to tear up from the intense perfume - and probably to pose for whatever paparazzi was shooting pictures of them right now.
"Do you want your reputation to go down the drain?" he asked, his exhasperation completely lost on a surprisingly serious Minseok.
"Sorry for being such a dick earlier," he whispered, a genuine spark of conflict and guilt dancing in his eyes even through the blue contact lenses.
"Huh?" Jongdae asked intelligently - not because he hadn't heard him but because this had come virtually out of nowhere.
Minseok shrugged, a sheepish smile dancing on his lips. It didn't look like anything he'd shown on stage earlier. He wasn't meeting his eyes, either.
"I suppose I'm kinda nervous myself," he admitted, absently toying with a stray ribbon. "Just didn't wanna offset Myeonnie."
His first instinct was to encourage him - his second was to keep his mouth shut because why would he encourage his direct, fraudulent rival?
In the end, his brain went with the middle of the road.
"You're just gonna perform that Yo-yo song?"
Minseok nodded, sighing without his expression slipping.
"That's the one."
Jongdae shrugged, glancing around once more to make sure no one was listening in on them.
"It's just what, three minutes?" he asked dismissively. "If no one ever noticed thus far, they sure as hell won't find out today, with all the lights and whatnot. They'll be too blinded by the amount of rhinestones on your face. And too dazed by the performance I'll be putting on before you."
The last part had been said with a winning smile as Jongdae could at least pretend he was back to his original attitude. Minseok huffed, but the smile on his face spoke of amusement.
"Sure. I'll do my best to act very impressed."
Whatever smart reply Jongdae had on his lips, it drowned in yet another bell, this time followed by an announcement for a row of artists to go on standby. Neither Jongdae nor Minseok had been part of the lineup but he figured it was time to return to his bandmates, anyway. He might as well get to the dumb jokes about him hitting it off with the next best pretty girl. The sooner they were past that, the better.
"Well, good luck on stage, Minnie," he said, and, after a brief hesitation, offered him his fist. Surprise turned to a small, grateful(?) smile, and Minseok gave him a light fistbump.
"Good luck," he whispered. "Rival."
"I'm not gonna wish you luck," Jongdae replied, cutting Minseok off for once, "'cause if you're worth your money, you won't need it."
Minseok blinked, genuinely stumped for at least two seconds - which was the time it took Jongdae to flee the scene and bemoan what a stupid line that had been, and how the embarrassment fluttering under his skin felt an awful lot like the jitters he'd get before a performance.
He resisted the urge to facepalm.
Maybe all of that had been a ploy to make him flunk his performance.
And by all of that he was referring to Minseok's... well. His everything. His existence.
That weird guy who was not only a fraud, but who also had absolutely no right looking so sparkly and charming with his gummy smile.
By the time their stage was near, Jongdae had already mentally gone through all the different, humiliating headlines the gossip sites could make up about bubbly online idol and hot rockstar Chen (vanity was the deadly sin Jongdae was least prone to, but hey, some healthy confidence didn't do any harm).
Luckily, Jongdae breathed music and lived for the stage. The moment he stepped out there, his head was wiped blank, basking in the ecstasy of drums and guitars, as he looked into a dark ocean of heads. Obviously, performing for your fans was the superior kind of concert, but there was something equally satisfying and anxiety-inducing about performing for people who weren't fans; who hadn't chosen to see him, and who Jongdae could sweep off their feet, could pull them in and mesmerize them. And Jongdae always aimed to please - both himself and the crowd.
Their two songs were over in the blink of an eye, the adrenaline rush numbing him as he stumbled to the back, high-fiving his bandmates. He'd almost forgotten all about Minseok when 'The adorable girl whose love acts like a Yo-yo' was announced, receiving deafening applause.
He paused, close enough to be able to peek at the stage while someone removed his audio equipment. On stage, an obnoxiously happy beat started playing and Minseok rose from the ground, already posing.
Jongdae craned his head, trying to catch a better look, when the beat dropped...
...and no recording followed.
Someone nearby cursed while the general anxiety in the room sparked but Jongdae couldn't take his eyes off Minseok, who had started to dance, movements faltering as the recorded voice wouldn't play.
Without thinking, Jongdae ripped his microphone out of the confused woman's hands, jumping past her and right up to the stage again, flipping it on in the process.
"Didn't you? Didn't you notice?" he asked into the crowd, wearing a disarming smile that was quite unlike what their songs usually asked of him.
Minseok stared at him in a mix of panic and confusion, but Jongdae just kept going, slotting right into the beat.
"Just for you, I dyed my hair," he sang, gentle and light, keeping his usual energy contained to suit the colorful sounds blasting through the hall. "Look at my eyes, my shirt, my lips - I even did my fingernails."
He showed off his black nails, complete with a playful smile. The adrenaline was still in his veins, bubbling up and telling him that the gesture had landed. He knew it, he could feel it.
And Minseok finally picked up as well, plastering the bright smile back onto his face as he made an exaggerated twirl, taking his hand. It took another two lines of Jongdae acting completely out of character for his rockstar persona for the audio to finally kick in. Under any other circumstances, Jongdae would be dead certain their bluff would be called. Right now, however, he was high on hormones with the added kick of performing a song he'd only really heard a single time in his life - and he just brazenly saw it through, alternating between joining the voice over for shreds of lyrics he memorized and inventing new ones to riff over the existing ones. It wasn't easy, but at its core, this was a simple, basic pop song, and Jongdae was a musician. Still, this was quite possibly the biggest thrill ride yet. Minseok, on the other hand, had seamlessly blended into lipsyncing their song, amping up his charm as he rotated through cute and goofy expressions, adjusting the dance to be a little more interactive and focused on Jongdae. He twirled, gestured, and acted out the song, and Jongdae found that he wasn't worried for him at all. Quite the opposite, really - the sparkle in his eyes was only spurring him on, and seeing the genuine joy blossoming over the initial shock was infectious.
He improvised a few more, simple notes over Minseok's small dance break and with a deafening explosion of golden fireworks, they jumped into an ending pose with Jongdae mock-poking Minseok's cheek, and Minseok quickly mirroring the action.
Just like that, it was over. Applause washed over them, and Jongdae allowed his smile to widen, waving into the cameras as they walked off the stage, arms intertwined.
Immediately, they were swarmed by staff members and the head coordinator, both apologizing and congratulating them on what they called a spectacular save - they also said something about potential consequences but Jongdae wasn’t about all that negativity right now. Besides, no one would be able to worry harder than the girl who had materialized before Minseok, fingers clawing into his upper arms.
"Oh my god," she half-screamed, looking to be about to black out. "It went wrong. I'm so, SO sorry. Oh my god, they'll all know now-"
"If you keep yelling like that? Probably. Honestly, you're your own worst enemy," Jongdae provided, but Myeonnie didn't even hear him. Luckily, Minseok was there to pat her back with a comforting smile, steering them off to the sidelines.
"They've seen us together before this," he murmured, not loud enough to catch anyone's attention. "It'll look as if he was late on his cue."
When Myeonnie shot him a tear-streaked look, Jongdae shrugged.
"It's fine. No big deal. I'll blame it on the tech department."
"I mean, that's not a lie. Not technically," Minseok said, only to snicker. Jongdae groaned.
"Oh my god, you're lame."
"Says the guy holding a girl's hand like this," Minseok quipped, holding his hand up in a very princess-y manner.
"Shut up," Jongdae snapped, begging for the lighting to obscure the red tips of his ears. "It was what suited the concept. And they ate it up."
"I can't believe you didn't tell us about this. What the hell, man?"
When Jongdae turned around, it was to the disbelieving expressions of his bandmates.
"God, give me a heart attack, why don't you?" Jongdae sigehd.
"Baek's right though," Chanyeol insisted. "That was kind of a big deal. Why didn't you tell us?"
"Yeah, that's not only a collaboration that'll make waves, it also heavily influences our branding," Yixing, residential pianist and bandleader, threw in, looking unimpressed.
Jongdae winced.
"I'm sorry-"
"We could have joined you!" Yixing cut him off, looking exasperated. "That would have been a brillliant PR move. Seriously, Jongdae. Well, at least your reputation will reflect on us..."
"There he goes, Mr. Marketing is at it again," Baekhyun sighed, complete with a goodnatured eyeroll. "Seriously though, dude, what was that?"
Jongdae glanced over at Minseok and Myeonnie, spotting a wide-eyed look of panic on Myeonnie’s face and one of faux-innocence-hiding-tension on Minseok's. Wow, he really was reading too much into him.
Ultimately, he shrugged.
"Just making some music with a fellow artist. I wanted to see if our rivals are worth their money, and I suppose they are."
With a relieved sigh, Myeonnie bowed down deep.
"We're very grateful to Chen for saving us."
"Jongdae. The name's Jongdae," he said, offering his hand to her first, then to Minseok. His grasp was firm, not unlike the look in his eyes. He didn't say anything but his smile spoke for him.
"No problem," Jongdae answered the unspoken sentiment, and, after giving his ego a metaphorical slap, he added, "I mean it. You're worthy rivals, after all. You belong on a stage."
He could hardly say it any more directly but it was true - Minseok may not be a singer, but he sure as hell was a performer.
Judging by the genuine surprise on his face, Minseok had understood him perfectly.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they held hands, with Jongdae pondering just how awkward it would be to ask for his number.
"Wait, wait, wait," Chanyeol cut in, effectively ruining the moment. "Did you just introduce yourself? You didn't even know each other's names? What's even going on? Am I going crazy here?"
"You've never been normal," Baekhyun rebutted with a frown, but Chanyeol wouldn't hear it.
"And what's all that talk about rivals? Why the plural? Is anyone even listening to them?"
"Hm? What did you say?" Yixing asked, nonchalantly returning Myeonnie's phone with a small 'text me' gesture that didn't really escape anyone.
"Really now?" Chanyeol whined, and Minseok broke into a breathy chuckle. He was quick to cover his mouth with his hands, and Jongdae couldn't help but yearn to drag him off stage and peel him out of that wig and makeup to hear his real voice more clearly.
And if he dragged him out of his dress, while he was at it, well. Sue him.
Being so wrapped up in each other, none of them realized the ceremony moving onto the Rookie of the Year award - which went to none other than Momo, the walking, talking Peach animation (that suspiciously looked like a butt), for singing the theme song to some new flavour of cup noodles.
Later, Jongdae would be furious about that (and change his favourite brand of instant ramyun).
Later.
For now, he was busy hanging out in the backrooms, finding out what Kim Minseok's voice sounded like.
In an entirely family-friendly way, of course.