thirty four
violet nights • junhui x minghao
Seungcheol watched over his little brood of energetic boys almost like a father. He wasn’t that much older than they were but they were an amazing bunch of kids and he’d vowed to do everything he could within his power for them. To help them achive the success they deserved and to help shield them from everything that would come with it. He was determined to make sure they were protected.
He sat with Kim Mingyu and watched them dance on the set. Over and over again they all did it without complaint or even a roll of the eyes. They were the four strongest kids he’d ever met. He closed his eyes for just a second and thought back to the day the skinniest kid he’d ever seen dragged himself into an audition with a barely concealed black eye and a thick mop of hair that was greasy and too long. He was poorly dressed and quiet, almost vacant looking, and his arms were covered in bruises. When he danced and sang he was incredible. But Seungcheol couldn’t look past his haggard appearance. He was determined to protect the two incredible talents he’d already unearthed and he couldn’t risk it with some skinny street kid strung out on pills.
But when Junhui, the most caring kid he’d ever met, pleaded for the boy with such sincerity Seungcheol had to take notice. And it was a decision he’d never regretted making. Bringing him into the group and their home had been a revelation. The introduction of Minghao had made Junhui come to life with an explosion of talent and drive that Seungcheol never imagined. It was all worth it. The risks, the fear, the money the company had used to keep Minghao out of prison. It was all worth it.
The company had decided that a hip hop concept was the safe way forward. The debut song had Soonyoung and Junhui on vocals and Chan and Minghao rapping. They were making good use of Minghao’s skills in the dance and they were dressed in an assortment of oversized and brightly patterned shirts and pants, sneakers, caps and bandanas and headbands.
Seungcheol opened his eyes again and looked over to Mingyu who was tapping furiously away on his phone. “They look ridiculous,” he said quietly and Mingyu just shrugged. “It’s fasihion Seungcheol. And it’s what the company wants. Cute bubblegum-sweet hip hop with a bit of street flair,” he said without a smile. “To be specific and according to their exact brief.” “Cant you explain to the executives that this is kind of stupid.” Seungcheol wasn’t happy. The boys seemed fine. They were happily dancing the routine and hadn’t made any comment about their clothes or the style of song. But Seungcheol was concerned. Boy bands like this were a dime a dozen and there was nothing in the concept that would make them stand out. Their skils and charisma weren’t going to be enough. This industry was ruthless.
“I know you’re concerned Seungcheol but we’re under instruction. Unless I come up with some genius idea or concept that w
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