Thank you for reading <3 

Note: Lyrics in this chapter are taken from BTS Cypher Pt 2: Triptych, Skool Luv Affair Album. I own nothing!!

    Min Yoongi let out a deep exhale. “Welp, that’s about as good as it’s gonna get. I mean really, we’ve just got to go out there and bring it like we do any night we practice after school. You feel good about it?”
    “Yeah,” replied Namjoon, though his nerves were jangling. He knew the other boy felt the same way, which was comforting - or worrisome. He couldn’t decide which. “We got this. I mean, we’re just openers. And you said most of the guys who came through here were crap anyways right?”
    Yoongi nodded, his white face paler than usual. “Yup, I did say that.” Namjoon decided not to comment on what his tone suggested. 
    A tall, thin man with day old scruff and greasy black hair, who Namjoon had come to know as Jung the manager, stuck his head into the little back room. “Hey kids, time to get out there,” he barked, his voice gravely. An cigarette bum hung out the side of his mouth, still smoking slightly. 
    “Yah, we’ll be out in 5. You manage to get the mics hooked up properly this time?”
    “Don’t give me lip kid. Just get out there and do what you’re here for. People are waiting.”
    With that, the manager disappeared again, and the two boys were left alone. They both did one last meticulous go-over in the dusty full length mirror against the wall, fixing their hats and hoodies just so, Yoongi undoing and re-tying his bandana in the exact same way again. They looked at each other and nodded. 
    “It’s go time,” said Yoongi, finally letting a grin spread across his face as he held out a fist to bump.
    “Let’s do this thing.”
    The boys exited the room and walked down the small hallway ending in a door that would come out right beside the stage.  Namjoon noticed a different sound emitting from the other side; The hip hop beat was still bumping, but there was another noise rising, buzzing in his ears. Yoongi glanced quickly at Namjoon, and then donned his dark rayban sunglasses, pulled his hat down over his eyes and adopted his gangster stance as he pulled open the door and stepped out onto the floor.
    The place was absolutely packed. Countless people crowded the dance floor  right up to the edge of the low stage, and more stood three rows deep up on the metal balcony. There were even people hanging off the metal ladders, trying to get a better view as they laughed and batted off kicks from those above them. Multicolour lights flashed around the floor, illuminating the graffiti art on the wall and ceiling, but the brightest was a huge wide spotlight directly on the stage. There was a heavy-set guy in the DJ booth spinning tunes and tossing his hands, encouraging the crowd. 
    The huge, roiling crowd filled Namjoon’s vision as he sidled up beside Yoongi behind the DJ booth at the back of the stage. 
    “ ‘Probably like 15 people’ ?!” he hissed venomously at the other boy.  
    Yoongi just shrugged apologetically, expression hidden by his sunglasses and hoodie. “I guess the guy we’re opening for is pretty populaur.”
    “I really am going to kill you Min Yoongi.”
    “Hey, you kids got a tape?”
    The DJ had turned around and was facing the two of them, holding a hand out expectantly. Yoongi dug in his deep pocketed hoodie and pulled out a CD case. 
    “Second track.”
    The DJ raised an eyebrow and sniggered. “A CD? Old school. Alright, I got it. What are your names again?”
    Namjoon could feel Yoongi’s scowl even from behind the boy’s sunglasses and hood. “D-Boy & Runch Randa.”
    “Got it. I‘ll announce you and then you get out there okay? Just throw me a sign when you want the beat to start.”
    The mint-haired boy turned to his rapping partner. “You’re not gonna out on me now, are you?” The words were mocking, but his voice expressed an amount of doubt, warring with determination. He was just trying to get Namjoon in the fighting spirit, and the younger knew it.
    “Not a chance,” Namjoon growled back, smacking Yoongi’s hand in a low high-five.
    “That’s my man. Hey, put your shades on. I told you, it helps.”
    “Aaaall right, you asked for it, ladies and gentlebros, pimps and hos, we gotta show tonight tha’s fresh as ! Y’all ready for this?!”
    A loud cheer went up from the crowd. 
    “We got Killa K from Busan here tonight -” an even louder bout of cheering - “and he’s ready to bring down the house! But first, we got a couple real cool cats from right here in town to open the show. Give it up for D-Boy and Runch Randa!”
        As the two boys strolled out to the middle of the stage towards the brightly illuminated microphones, the crowd quieted noticeably, though there were still a few shouts and wolf-whistles. So many faces - so many eyes. Namjoon could feel sweat pop out on the back of his neck as he faced the huge crowd of people. He stood there in the spotlight, long fingers shaking slightly as they slid the microphone from the stand. It was somehow even worse now that the crowd had become so much quieter. Namjoon feverishly began to realize how ridiculous this was - he still got nervous sometimes rapping new stuff in front of Yoongi, never mind this craziness! He wasn't prepared at all! His heart felt ready to beat out of his chest, where his lungs also seemed to lay suddenly useless and ineffectual at taking in oxygen. 
    The blue-haired boy could vaguely hear Yoongi speaking into the mic beside him, probably introducing them both, but he honestly had no idea what the other boy was saying; it wasn’t just the noise of the crowd now that was buzzing in his ears. It felt like he was going deaf, and he felt slightly faint - so many eyes. Namjoon held the mic up to his mouth, but he thought if he opened it he might just barf.
    He felt Yoongi turn beside him to signal to the DJ, then nudge him roughly in the side. “Shades!” the older boy hissed at him. 
    Dazed, Namjoon plucked his borrowed sunglasses off the brim of his hat and slid them over his eyes. Instantly, the crowd was blurred right out - all of the countless people and faces became one large, foggy shadow. Yoongi’s advice had been right - with all the faces blocked out in the darkness behind his shades, it became suddenly much easier. His breath started to come out normally again, and his heartbeat slowed. He adopted his swaggering stance again and shook out the nerves. It was time to prove himself, same as he had the day he’d met Yoongi and his scary looking gang of thugs. The only thing he could see now was the spotlight, and the microphone right in front of him. And then the beat dropped, and suddenly Namjoon knew this was exactly where he was meant to be. 
    Yoongi started rapping first. The teenage boy was small in stature, but he took up the entire stage as soon as his lips started moving into that microphone. His deep, rough voice filled the entire room, completely dominating the heavy industrial hiphop beat.

    
“My domain is dopeman.com, scolded many with a mic
Speech and action are like shackles,
My crime is assault with my tongue
You’re so bad ever since you were born
If you’re gonna whine about this beat, just leave
Look at the arrogance of the hip-hop con artists
When you were playing underground,
D-Boy was playing at ground level
Compared to you who sleeps all night,
I’m a workaholic, shopaholic
Overspending on my pens that are more in number than
your fans, if I go all in and shoot, it’s a goal in
Goal in, I’m ballin‘, when I hear your rap,
I’m about to throw up
My voice even bewitches your girlfriend
The studio is my playground,
My partner is a pen and paper
You think being escorted makes you powerful,
I hope you put down your mic
If I’m the sun, you’re the moon,
because when I rise, you go down
All you hip-hip designer brand bastards,
come down from the foamy bubbles.
    Hey you brats, your crappy rap is a burden to others
Take a break and wait, just go to Hawaii, go home…”

    The crowd was starting to get rowdy again, hands and heads were bobbing in time, shouts from the balcony and the floor, and loud “Ooohs” as Yoongi fired out one cleverly written diss after another at a rapid pace. As the building appreciation from the crowd reached the young man’s ears, he seemed to pull power from it, rapping faster and faster until Namjoon was even in awe. The audience started to go wild as Yoongi spat lyrics viciously and more quickly than they had ever heard before. 

 
“See how far I go, all the rotten roots will be replaced
Everyone, let’s play a game,
without efforts, you’ll just be grieving
You think you can do music?
Just go look for a part-time job
Although your short and thin career
will get you nowhere I hope you survive,
keep rotting away, that’s your label
Your life is like a mudfish, your rap is recycled!
You save up and divide up the flow,
write it up and use it again
Hey beat, know that you’re embarrassing,
just with 24 measures, you lay down sick
Compared to your size, your rap is so thin
Like your parents, my heart hurts every time I see you
I’ll put a period at the artery of your music career!”

    The older boy ended his verse breathing heavily, then let out a high, crazy laugh into the mic that had everyone screaming who hadn’t been already. The crowd was ecstatic now, and hungry for more. Yoongi had throw back his hood, bandana soaking up sweat as it poured down his forehead and dampened his hair. He had pulled off his sunglasses at some point too, tossing them into the raucous audience. His dark, slanted eyes glittered evilly at Namjoon as he looked over at his dongsaeng, chest heaving. The smug grin on his face said it all. Your turn. Beat that. 
    But any hint of nervousness in Namjoon’s stomach was gone now. He was so ready to do this, he could barely hold back until the beat drop, and then he released it all like a tsunami crashing over the sea of people.

“I’m a rap wiper, a complete psycho, if I’m a dicer,
then I have all the dice
Cypher, if you’re nice, I’m nicer
If you’re Pride, then I’m a Chrysler,
that means I’mma priceless
Who are you to judge my rap? Rapper?
This is One Piece, I’m a Whitebeard,
you just have long beards like catfish, bucket
Hehe haha, brap brap, 300 per hour
I’m going through the process of working hard
I won’t discriminate but catch them all,
tombstone, knock knock knock out
Fire in the hole beat BING BING POW POW,
you’ll cry and look for your dad
My voice constricts the voices of the plain rappers
at all times, like the PC cafe closing
This is a kingdom, I’m a king, you’re dumb
I’m chew you and swallow, you’re bubblegum
On top of the running man is the flying man
On top of the flying man
is the one who rides on him
That’s me, beat, a badder guy than Rain
Like rags, I just hang it up, after I play with it,
I rip up your eardrums, boom boom boom
This is the curse of my dawn, a nightmare, a riot,
serial murder, theft, doom doom doom
You’re like a Katalk with
no friends, no reason to look
Did you already wet your pants?
Sorry, there’s no bathroom.”

    He wasn’t as fast as Yoongi, but he was heavier, stomping down on the words and the beat like he was trying to crush them under his tongue. The intense backup track was vibrating in his chest and he shouted back at it, screamed back at it. He was ready to take the entire building down with him and everyone in it.

“I’m commanding you, let go of the mic and get up
Just do the “chun” because you have no “shil”1
I’ll push you out because I really don’t like you
I’m good at sewing, putting it into practice
I’m growling right now, you’re in a bit of danger
Just do the “yeon,” like I said, you have no “shil”2
Rise and rise to the sky
but get ripped, it, I’ve forgotten you
My voice, my hegemony, I made it from one to ten
I put the whole world on my tongue
I play with big boys, I ain’t spittin low sh
On the CD or the TV, you can see me,
envy me, it’s a pity, gee gee!”

    Swaggering across the stage, Namjoon shrugged at Yoongi much the same way the older boy had before at him when he was busy freaking out backstage. The crowd was egging him on with their riotus applause.The blue-haired rapper lowered his shades a hint and winked at his friend cheekily. Watch this.

“ I’mma monster I rap with a prospect,
yeah I rap with a mindset I’m a suspect
a where yo rhymes at where you lines at?
I’m da king, I’m the god
so where ma emperors at?
I parachute on my Neverland,
I’mma peter pan, so this will never end
You know when I ride on my G5
you sit first class and satisfy and I keep giggling
Keep gigglin, keep jigglin,
bring yo ing mic beat wanna have a go?
Hyungs who are sick with pride and
strange beliefs get lost after 8 measures
You old caterpillars,
I’ll give you this beat, give it a try
Hey, start talking when you can start rapping
There should be a law restricting you from rapping!!”

    As soon as Namjoon had started rapping in English, the entire room had gone up in chaos. It was a completely unexpected twist and it had apparently gone over well - the dark, shady basement room of the old industrial building was shaking with cheering and pure intense energy and enthusiasm. As his verses ended, he shouted wordlessly once more into the microphone over the crowd shouting back, fists punching the air. He couldn’t imagine or remember ever feeling this good in his life. This was life. This is what he had been looking for and missing all this time. 
    The background beat dropped off abruptly, and the two boys stood onstage, blinding light shining off their drops of sweat, trying to catch their breath and still shouting at the same time as the audience continued to cheer back raucously. 
    “That’s right motherers!! I’m D-Boy, that’s Runch Randa, don’t you ever ing forget!!” Yoongi was screaming wildly into the microphone. “Don’t ing forget!! Or I’ll come to your house and bury you up to your goddamn neck!!”
    “You guys are dope as , thank you!!” yelled Namjoon, waving at the crowd and pulling an arm around Yoongi to drag the shorter boy away from the mic. “Thank you!!”
    Extremely reluctantly the mint-haired boy loosened his grip on the microphone, and with one last punch towards the crowd, he allowed Namjoon to pull him towards the back of the stage. DJ asked for one last cheer for D-Boy and Runch Randa, which was still ringing in their ears as they stomped back through the side stage door and into the dark little hallway. It wasn’t just his imagination; Namjoon could clearly hear the people cheering and calling their names. 
    Yoongi was slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. His head rolled and fell on his shoulder as he looked at Namjoon, who had collapsed down into a squatting position on the floor. He pulled off his soaked bandana and ran white fingers through his sweat damp hair, grinning down at the younger boy with pure satisfaction.
    “So, next time -”
    Namjoon cut him off abruptly with a raspy voice. 
    “When.” 
    It wasn’t so much as question as a demanding statement. Yoongi’s wide smile threatened to split his small face in two.
    “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
    
    After their victorious opening performance, the two young rappers quickly splashed their faces in the sink of the dingy washroom and went back out into the crowd to watch the main act. As expected from the crowd he had brought in, Killa K ended up being seriously good, and the two of them had soon pushed their way up to the front of the crowd to beat their fists along with the rest and watch in respectful awe. He was an older and clearly more experienced performer, his rapping multi-layered, at times intense and other times chill and even romantic. He took time to mess around with his fans from the stage, called out names and gave props to the venue and everyone who had showed up. He even gave a shout out to Runch Randa and D-Boy, which had Namjoon and Yoongi grinning like schoolboys. 
    The show ended too soon, and after people finally realized they weren’t getting yet another encore song, they slowly began to filter out. Namjoon excused himself to the washroom, removing himself from the mass exodus of the crowd. After doing his business, he stood at the sink washing his hands and staring into the mirror at his reflection. A hint of dark roots was barely showing at the bottom of his light coloured hair, still damp from performing, not to mention the sweat that hung heavy in the air of the badly ventilated basement club.  But despite his somewhat haggard appearance, the huge smile refused to slip from his lips, dimples poking in his cheeks. He was so glad he’d had the balls to go up on stage and actually show off in front of a crowd - and they’d liked it! Not just liked it, loved it. Complete strangers were recognizing him and calling him by his rapper handle. It was just in one sketchy underground club, and for one night, but it still felt great. And he was so ing glad that he had met Yoongi - and that the rebellous gangster had basically forced him into the whole thing. 
    He strolled back out onto the floor with a healthy swagger in his step. A good amount of people were still lingering, not wanting to end their night early. He poked his head up, looking around for his rap duo partner. But instead, he heard rather than saw him; a pair of rising voices was emitting from near the exit door, one of them unmistakeably familiar in its rough and deep tone. Namjoon quickly headed toward what sounded like a heated fight brewing. 
    Yoongi was facing off with another young man in the doorway, both surrounded by small backup gangs of their own guys. He was standing up on his tip toes, making himself look as tall and big as possible as he argued, leaning in close to the other boy’s face. The guy in question just happened to be the slightly older boy wearing a backwards hat who called himself Nasceo. 
    “Funny, I didn’t ask for you opinion there dickweed.”
    “And I didn’t ask for yours douche bag. So why don’t you just keep your mouth shut?”
    “Oh, so you’re above constructive criticism now? I was only telling you your show could use some work. You come in here with the same every time, it’s getting kind of boring.”
    “Like you can say anything! You recycle the same crap all the time, copying from American Top 40, it’s so stereotypical -”
    “Oh, and diss rap isn’t stereotypical? Face it kid, you’re a wannabe. The swag doesn’t suit the wearer.”
    “I have more swag than you’ll ever even comprehend Scribbles!”
    “You ing wish -Boy!”
    “Whoa, whoa hey!” Namjoon jumped in, waving his hands to get the two boys’ attention away from each other. “Dudes, chill out! We’re all friends here. Just out to have a good time, no reason for all the hate. Be easy guys.”
    Nasceo glanced over at Namjoon with a distinct “This is clearly none of your business” look, while Yoongi just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but he leaned back and stood in a more relaxed position.
    “Sorry ‘Joon. See, some guys just like to judge while they sit back in the shadows, letting their laurels get rusty, giving lip service to guys like us who actually perform when they’re too to get up on the stage themselves.”
    Nasceo let out a loud snort of derision. “I ing rap in here all the damn time. Don’t even try to act like I’m some backstage wimp. You know that’s bull. I’m onstage here more than you are.”
    “Are you?” Yoongi affected a thoughtful look, full of mocking. “Oh sorry. I guess I wouldn’t know, since you never have an audience.”
    Nasceo’s slender eyes narrowed, and he let out a growl. “ you Min Yoongi. At least I have my ing pride. Why don’t you and your little idol buddy go audition for JYP? I bet he’d love a couple pretty boys like you.”
    It was Yoongi’s turn to growl. Namjoon could almost see the mint blonde hair on the back of his neck rising as he leaned back in toward Nasceo, glaring. “I bet you my ing career as a rapper that you sell-out before I do Scribbles.”
    “Oh yeah?” The older boy’s voice was low and dangerous as he tugged on the back of his hat, looking as if he was holding back from popping Yoongi in the mouth. “I’ll take that bet Boy. Why don’t you go enjoy some of that ‘D’ you love so much and get out of my sight?”
    “Gladly. I’ve had my fill of just being in your presence Jiho. As usual.”
    The boy who called himself Nasceo flashed an insipid grin. “Always a pleasure Yoongi.” He waved to his crew of guys, who were busy glaring down Yoongi’s gang, signalling them to leave with him. He turned to go, but stopped and looked over at Namjoon. “By the way, nice show kid. I thought you were gonna chunder there for a second when you first got on,” he chuckled, “But you totally blew it up. I hope you keep it up.” He tossed a hand out to Namjoon, who held out his own in a daze as the older boy smacked it appreciatively. “Cya around. Sorry you have to rap with a loser like him.” He jabbed a thumb over at Yoongi. “If you ever want a new partner, hit me up.”
    And with that, Jiho aka Nasceo sauntered out, followed by his crew. Yoongi moved as if to make after him, but then thought better of it; he held out his arms to stop his buddies from doing the same. “Idiot,” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the door the older boy had just exited through.
    “Uh Yoongi?” Namjoon looked curiously at his friend. “I thought you said you didn’t know him?”
    “I’d rather not.”
    “What’s up? Why do you guys have beef?”
    “It’s… nothing really.” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “Just normal rapper rivalry I guess. I’ve faced off with a few other guys before, but for some reason Jiho especially gets on my nerves. And what a dumb handle - Nasceo? What is that even? He thinks he’s so cool…” He kept muttering under his breath, the words becoming unintelligible. 
    Just then, the manager Jung approached them.
    “Not causing trouble are you Min?”
    “Nope.” Yoongi stuck out his hand expectantly at the older man. “So? How’d we do?”
    Jung grunted grumpily, cigarette bum bouncing in his thin lips. He dug around in the pocket of his stained worker’s pants for a moment, then pulled out a thick handful of cash. He counted it out slowly while the Yoongi watched, eyes glinting excitedly. Jung clearly enjoyed taunting Yoongi as the boy basically drooled over the sight of the money.
    “Well,” he said gruffly, “Besides the main act’s cut - which is 60% - and the DJ gets 15%, the bouncer gets 5%,” The thick wad of cash in his hands was getting thinner with each word as he stuck chunks of it back in his pocket out of sight. “And I get 12% myself.”
    “12%?” exclaimed Yoongi, protesting. “That’s bull Jung! That only leaves us with -”
    “Eight percent.” The greasy older man counted out 8 twenty dollar bills, and tossed them in Yoongi’s outstretched hand. “Take it or leave it. You’re lucky I’m paying you at all kid. You’re just an amateur opener.”
    “A hundred and sixty measly bucks,” grumbled Yoongi, glaring at the manager as he stumped away. “Eight percent, that’s such bull and he knows it. We deserve at least fifteen.” He turned to Namjoon, holding out half of the cash. “Here ya go.”
    Namjoon gazed down at the twenties in shock. “Wha-really?!”
    Yoongi stared back. “Dude. It’s only 80 bucks.”
    “But we got paid!” Namjoon gazed at the glorious cash in his hand. He looked back up at Yoongi, eyes wide and sparkling with awe. “We got paid to rap!”
    The older boy rolled his eyes, but a little smile spread across his lips. “Did I forget to tell you? Ah well. I guess I just didn’t want you to expect much. Usually shows here don’t sell so many tickets . I’m lucky to get 20 bucks most of the time. But seriously, eight percent… such bull.” He continued to grumble, but it was less emphatic now. “10 percent at least…”
    By the time the boys exited the building, the moon was bright and round in the middle of the dark navy sky, stars shining. Namjoon glanced down at his watch with a jolt; he should have been home an hour ago.
    “Hey, I’ve gotta get going. But -” he stopped, trying to find the words to thank Yoongi properly for basically dragging him into the most amazing experience he’d ever had in his young life. “Really man, that was the best thing - better than I could have even thought - I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time -”
    Yoongi waved him off, grinning. “Shut up pabo. I wouldn’t have asked you if you weren’t ing awesome. And you were, tonight. It was a lot of fun rapping with you. Next time, let’s get a cypher going. There’s a freestyle night coming up soon, I want you there with me.”
    “Absolutely.” Namjoon grinned back.
    “Alright, well we’re gonna go get into some trouble I think.” Yoongi glanced back at his motley crew, who were already looking ready to get into a fight. “Nothing that bad!” he added hastily at the look on Namjoon’s face. “Just roam the night like the hoodlums we are.” He winked cheekily, sticking out his tongue. 
    “Don’t get arrested. We still have school tomorrow.”
    “I would never!… I don’t look like it, but I can run pretty fast.”

I hope you guys liked the long awaited rap show chapter! Thank you for sticking with me ;) There's more to come!

My favourite rappers <3 I love these boys.

My favourite Yoongi rap star picture <3 Yeah, I already said I was Sugatrash okay. Just look at my username. Hahaha :D