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Taeyong's cigar tasted like heaven on earth after being on tour for three weeks straight. It's not like he didn't smoke pretty often, but it simply was different (and so much better) to smoke back home. And by home he means the bar he frequents. Everyone knows him there, and even fans just pile up outside the building to be able to catch a glimpse of him somewhere besides in front of an audience. But he didn't care about any of that. Even if he pretends that he did, fame was making him miserable. He was nice to his fans, but deep down he felt incredibly empty, yet, he didn't know why. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to get replaced, or that there wasn't anyone by his side. Being famous was incredibly lonely, if you can believe that.
He went upstairs, to his private room, and closed the door. The waiters there had already prepared him his favorite drink: vodka. It was cold. Perfect for such a sultry day.
It slid through his throat, letting himself get slightly drunk. Then he inhaled more of the cigar's smoke, then blew it away.
Tae was expecting someone to come to his room, which was exciting for a change. He was waiting for none other than Baekhyun, his new competitor. He didn't really understand why the singer requested to meet, but he complied nonetheless. Taking another sip from his drink, he began to get nervous, even if he didn't comprehend why.
He grew more anxious as time went on, wanting to leave. Yes, it was his favorite place on earth, yet he didn't want to stay any longer. Something felt... wrong. Dangerous. Like, an incredibly bad idea.
The man started walking to the door, until he saw him open it first. Deep, brown eyes. Smooth skin. Pink lips. Blonde hair. Absolutely his type.
"Hi, mister Lee. I-"
"Oh, darling. There's no need to be so formal, is there? You can call me Tae." He felt Baekhyun tense up, cheeks turning a soft pink.
"O-okay. Tae, I wanted to ask you a favor."
"What is it?"
"I don't want to compete with you. I think it'd be a good idea if we are a duo." His eyes started to shine, and a soft smile appeared on his lips. How could he say no to him?
"And why do you think it's a good idea to do that, Hun? You barely know me." Baekhyun felt Tae's strong, warm hands on his waist. He got tense again.
"W-well b-becaus-"
The older man broke the tension and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. And Baekhyun surprisingly reciprocated. The blonde's hands travelled all over his body. His shoulders, his back, his hair... you name it. This was the beginning of a romance with an end that none of them ever saw coming.
-
Taeyong ended up accepting the blondie's request. At least it'd make fame feel a little less miserable... right? It's whatever, his life was kinda shitty anyway.
The public absolutely loved to see them together. Both of them had amazing voices that, combined, just sounded heavenly. They made multiple hits, that eventually made them more famous than they already were, if that was even possible.
The first weeks of the romance were amazing. They made love anytime, anywhere. They made so much money to their record company that their managers simply made a blind eye, and the couple was grateful for it.
The problems started when the tour began.
Being so famous made people desperate to see them, so they just started a global tour. Everything was good the first few weeks, but Baekhyun soon found out about his lover's other side.
A little cocaine here, a little alcohol there... their relationship began to strain. The younger one hated seeing his lover (boyfriend?) getting so drunk that he forgot his name. He ended up taking care of him more times that he could count. Blondie always wondered what happened in his life that made him an alcoholic, but was afraid to ask.
One night, Baekhyun was taking care of his lover as usual, until he started getting aggressive. So much so that it was pretty close to get physical. Baek had never been more scared in his life. Yet he stayed with him. Taeyong promised that he would change, that he'd never do it again. But, you guessed it, he never really stopped. Maybe just a day or two until vodka and whiskey started whispering his name.
Blondie kept making excuses for him, and their fans started to suspect that something bad was going on behind the scenes. Baek started showing up to concerts with a black eye, or with bruises in his arms and legs, yet Taeyong looked completely fine. The press began to ask questions that would damage both their reputations. Baekhyun was getting closer and closer to his limit.
---
"But why?! Why do you treat me like this?! What did I even do to you?"
"Oh, shut the fuck, you faggot. Just leave me alone and tomorrow we'll pretend everything's fine, like we always do." He took another sip of his twelfth drink of the night.
Baekhyun put a hand on Taeyong's glass. "No. We have rehearsals tomorrow. If you have a hangover we won't be able to do shit and you know it."
"Oh, goodness. Stop caring so fucking much about that. You know our fans will love anything we do regardless if it's shitty or not. Now, leave me alone."
"B-"
"I. SAID. GO!" The older man slapped Baekhyun across the face, leaving a really red mark on his pretty face. He regretted it immediately after, but after giving it some thought... maybe that'll help him get his lover out his ass and let him get drunk as he pleased. Wait, no, what the fuck are you thinking?
Some soft sobs filled the room. Baek was on his knees, now crying his eyes out. "You never hit me like this."
"I'm sorry I-"
"Don't fucking touch me!" Baek took this stuff out of their room and left as soon as he could. His managers tried to stop him, but it was too late. Taeyong didn't know what was ahead of him.
---
Baekhyun went to pretty much everywhere. Press, newspapers, anywhere where he could talk about his love affair with his ex. Everyone sided with the blondie, and started hating Taeyong. Slowly but surely he was blacklisted from exclusive places he once frequent, even his favorite bar.
Life was taking a toll on him, and it was to be expected. He lost someone he loved very much thanks to his alcohol addiction, felt completely miserable, and, once again, was all by himself. There was nothing to lose now.
He started the car in the middle of a rainy night. Not a soul on sight. Perfect.
He had his favorite bottle of vodka by his side. The wet pavement would make it easier for him to do what he had on mind. A perfect combination.
He couldn't help but think about blondie, about how intoxicating it was being by his side, about the unconditional love he gave him, and, in return, didn't give him shit. He completely fucked it up. There was no coming back from all the abuse he put him through.
With all of those painful and sad filled thoughts resurfacing once again, he began to go faster and faster, without a care in the world. He lit up his last cigar, admiring the fire of his lighter for a few seconds. After litting it up, he hoped his death was quick and painless.
His last thought was about him.