Sungjong feels the floor shake under his foot. The loud noise - he calls it noise but his brother calls it music - is hurting his ear even though he's standing farthest away from the boom speakers. The shouts, jeers, and laughter of the crowd are stifling as always.

Why does he do this to me?

On a Saturday morning, Sungjong would be anywhere but here, but thanks to his older brother, who is also good at emotional blackmailing, he's here at an underground hip-hop club. He has respect for the genre, he has respect for his brother’s talent in rapping and dancing but it's just not his thing.  So he doesn’t understand why he has to be the one to accompany his hyung to this hellish place (the music is deafening and most of the participants’ fashion choices are questionable). Even though he likes when the rappers diss each other (his guilty pleasure), he doesn’t understand half the lyrics he hears, so there’s pretty much no point.

Howon, or as he calls him Hoya hyung, is adamant though that Sungjong must accompany him every time he has a battle. It is only after one whole year he learns that Hoya thinks he is his lucky charm and he’s never lost a battle when he’s with him. Sungjong rolled his eyes at his superstitious but otherwise sensible brother, although he has to admit that it is quite endearing.

Today as well, Hoya has another battle and he’s already backstage, preparing. Sungjong mills around the crowd, trying to find a spot away from the boom speakers and the rowdy teenagers who think they’re cool for coming to a hip-hop showdown.

That is when he runs into another boy, almost as tall as him and maybe the same age as him. He’s not surprised, he has seen kids younger than him burning up the stage. This kid is wearing a snapback backwards. He has two incisors of the top row sticking out, causing his upper lips to pout outwards. Sungjong notices, with jealousy, that he seems to have a nose carved out of stone. Feeling a tad bit insecure, he brushes his finger against the tip of his own nose ruefully.

At least I have a winning smile, he sighs inwardly.

He’s about to move on when the other guy grabs his sleeve. He looks at him inquiringly.

“Excuse me,” the boy hesitates, looking unsure, “can you please give a listen to my lyrics?”

Sungjong facepalms. A newbie. He has seen them around. When it’s the first time for someone new at the club, they wander around like lost sheep, looking for feedback from veterans to boost their confidence. He has no idea why this novice thinks he would be able to give him advice. He is dressed in his everyday shirt and the skinniest of jeans, sticking out in the crowd wearing loose crew pants and snapbacks like a sore thumb.  Of all the people, the kid had to get a hold of him.

“I don’t know anything about rapping,” he admits. He turns his back on him but quick as a flash, the kid is in front of his eyes once more.

“I’m Bobby,” he says with a toothy grin, holding up his hand, expecting a high-five probably.

Sungjong rolls his eyes once more. This kid is probably going to be a laughing stock for the next few weeks at this club.

“Is that your stage name?”

“That’s the name I live by, I am hip-hop,” he rhymes in a deep, husky voice, surprising Sungjong. He hasn’t expected such a deep voice emitting out of the timid looking creature. He thinks he sounds y (which is disgusting in his opinion).

“Okay Bobby, nice to meet you.” This time he scampers through the crowd, not giving the newbie the chance to follow him.

When he is safely stowed away in a dark corner, he starts his usual habit of scanning through the crowd for a handsome face. It’s not like he’s preying on the men in the club, it’s more like browsing. Sometimes he likes what he sees, and he spends his time flirting with them, or just watching from far away. That is what makes his time here bearable. If they meet again another week, these people have exactly two reactions. Some of them run away, ashamed, pretending they don’t know each other. The other half tries to renew their conversation - they are genuinely interested in him; in which case he is the one running away.

He never usually talks to the same person twice in this club. He’s been tempted a couple of times to continue association with these handsome hunks. Once he met this really handsome guy, called Myungsoo or something, but he was such a hapless idiot that he would have pole-vaulted out of the club if he could to get away from him. He avoided going to the club for the next few weeks and later Hoya informed him that heart-broken, Myungsoo has taken up writing poetry instead.

So here he is, minding his business as the rappers start going up on the stage, one by one, and spit fire or nonsense, Sungjong isn’t interested. Today’s turnout is quite mundane and his vantage point is not excellent, so he’s having trouble combing through the faces. Everyone’s pretty much riding the rhythm, bouncing excitedly. Suddenly, his eyes fall on the person beside him and he gasps. It’s Bobby from earlier.

Bobby turns to meet his eyes and smiles at him. He’s swaying slightly on the spot to the beat, his head bobbing up and down. It’s probably a coincidence he ended up next to him. But it’s not a coincidence when he leans towards him and says, really close to his ear because that’s the only way he’ll be heard, “You didn’t give me your name.”

Sungjong is pretty much awed by the gall of this newbie. Shooting him a murderous look that he might not catch well in the dimly lit room, he says as loudly as he can, “For a good reason.”

“Rude,” Bobby whispers this time in his husky tone so close to his ear that his ear lobe tickles.

“Shut up and get the hell outta here, do you know who I am?” is what he wants to say, but he isn’t that discourteous. So instead, he grabs him by the ear and pulls him in front of him, so that he can shout in his ear, “Shut up and get the hell outta here, do you know who I am?”

When he lets him go, Bobby massages the spot on his ear, looking at him with surprise on his face. He looks like he’s in pain and Sungjong grins, satisfied. He then completely forgets him and goes back to his task. There is a guy near the front who catches his attention and during the break, he slowly manoeuvres to where the guy is standing, bumping into him slightly and then looking at him apologetically, as if it was by accident. A coy glance passes between them, hasty introductions, and then the ship starts sailing as smoothly as he could possibly have hoped for. Junhong has fluffy pink hair and a shy, cute smile, and he speaks to him politely – Sungjong’s all sold.

They chat all through the break and when the rappers return to the stage, Junhong is torn between the performance (because he really seems like he’s into hip-hop, not just one of those pretenders) and Sungjong, who keeps on giving him flirty smiles and touching him in places he shouldn’t. He’s all but ready to melt when he hears a husky whisper dangerously close to his ear – “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Spinning around, he finds that it’s none other than Bobby, he’s somehow moved to stand behind him. How does he do that, he thinks, thoroughly annoyed.

He throws him a dirty look and he backtracks quickly. “I mean you seem to be enjoying the performances.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he answers poisonously, turning pointedly to Junhong.

Bobby reminds him of one of those annoying leeches as he says, “Do you want to listen to the lyrics I wrote?”

“How many times have I told you I’m not interested?”

“You never said anything like that.” Bobby pouts, causing blood to rush to his brain. Junhong has noticed the exchanges between them, and is now trying to alternate his gaze between the stage, Bobby, and Sungjong. “It won’t take long,” he pesters, and Sungjong wants to hit him right between his eyes.

“I am not a rapper, you blithering idiot!” he shouts, aware that a few people around them could hear him. Junhong looks scandalised.

“But still,” Bobby whines, not at all shocked by the information, like he knew all along.

Fuming, Sungjong grabs him by the ear once again, ignoring the squeals of, “Not the ear, not the ear.”

“Listen you bumbling fool, for the last time, I’m not interested. If you don’t disappear from my sight, I’m going to break a few fingers so that you can never hold a mic again. All your dreams of being a rapper will disappear in dust, understand?”

Bobby nods emphatically, so he lets him go. Junhong, who has witnessed the scene of torture, looks terrified.

“Don’t worry about him, dear,” Sungjong tells him in a cute voice, completely opposite to the one he’s been using on Bobby.

Junhong, nods, gulps, then leans towards Bobby and goes, “Are you okay, sunbaenim?”

Sungjong only blinks.

“Sunbaenim?”

“Yeah, he’s my-”

“Junhongie! My favourite dongsaeng!” Bobby hugs Junhong, in what clearly is an attempt to stop him from speaking.

Sungjong is totally confused now. He thought Bobby was a newbie, he definitely acted like one. But how can he be Junhong’s senior?

He looks at the awkward boy again, there is nothing to suggest he’s not a novice. His hip-hop pants are new, his snapback is definitely newly purchased.

For the rest of the performance, he is aware of Bobby’s presence behind him but he doesn’t say anything. He is deep in thought, so much so, that he claps only half-heartedly when Hoya wins his battle.

“And now, for our champion performer!  Our pride, the winner of Show Me The Money – Bobby!”

The crowd erupts and Sungjong’s mouth falls open as Bobby, the annoying, awkward Bobby, takes the stage. He doesn’t fail to throw a wink in his direction as he smoothly jumps onto the stage and coolly catches a mic thrown at him. Even Sungjong has to admit grudgingly that he has style.

And then he starts rapping. It takes Sungjong a moment to realise that the lyrics seem to be directed at him as Bobby doesn’t take his eyes off of him, even as the crowd goes wild. The crowd notices fairly early, caving in towards him to clear a path from the stage where Bobby is to him. Sungjong feels uncomfortable, like a spotlight has been above his head, and he doesn’t understand what’s going on.

Bobby is a good rapper but he raps slowly, like he is talking to him instead.

You’re so pretty, when I see you, my lips go up so easily
You’re the helper in my life, I can stretch now thanks to you

He has no problem discerning the lyrics and it causes his heart to quicken. What the hell is he doing?

I’ve already been burned by the sun called you
All the negative energy is gone because of you

He wants to walk out of the club but everyone’s eyes are trained on him. It’s embarrassing to say the least and he doesn’t know what to do. Bobby’s words keep becoming more and more passionate.

This is my gradual confession, I love you each time
Better late than never baby

So this is why he wanted me to hear his lyrics?

But he still has tonnes of questions, like why this sudden confession? Did Bobby know him before? How and since when? How come this is the first time he’s seeing him?

It seems like hours before the performance ends and Sungjong sighs in relief too fast. Because the crowd now looks at him expectantly, chanting, “Accept him!”

They are all idiots of course, so Sungjong does the most sensible thing.  He fights his way through the crowd and out of the club, completely forgetting Junhong and focusing on getting away from Bobby and the crowd. He has half a mind to leave his brother behind and set off towards home when Hoya joins him.

“Why did you run away?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“Did you see what happened?” he asks indignantly.

“Yeah, Bobby sunbaenim confessed to you.”

“He’s your sunbae too? Great!” he huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.  “How the hell does he know me?”

Hoya looks at him weirdly. “He’s seen you at performances before. You always accompany me, remember? He asked me about you.”

“Eww what a ert, he checked me out?”

Hoya rolls his eyes.

“What?”

“Sungjong, you check out guys all the time.”

“That’s because I have nothing better to do,” he reasons. When he does it, it isn’t this gross.

Sighing, Hoya puts an arm around his shoulder.

“He liked you for over a year you know.”

Sungjong wants to cringe, but it’s a bit flattering.

“How come he’s confessing just now?”

His brother chuckles.

“He’s noticed your little habit of picking out handsome kids from the crowd and flirting with them. He’s been waiting for you to approach him.”

“Oh.” That makes sense. Bobby was finally forced to make his move because he’s never caught Sungjong’s eyes. What a sorry guy.

“So-” before Hoya can say anything else, the man himself steps out of the club. Bobby places a hand on Hoya’s arm and Sungjong’s sweet, sweet brother takes that as a cue to leave. Leave his adorable younger brother with a stranger. How sweet and caring.

“Talk to the hand,” Sungjong says arrogantly, putting up his palm in front of Bobby’s face. He’s furious with him for a) being a ert and b) embarrassing him in front of everyone.

“Did you like my rap?”

“I hated it!” he says heartily.

Bobby’s toothy smile changes into a grave, almost desperate expression.

“I really love you, Sungjong. I wasn’t joking back there. I promise you’ll like me if you get to know me.”

Wow, how cocky, he thinks dully.

Out loud, he says, “Look, you’re not my type. If you were, I’d have noticed you.”

“And played with me for a few hours, then run away when I tried to approach you.” His description is so perfect that Sungjong gets goosebumps. How closely has he been observing him? “Maybe what you need is someone who’s not your type. Because, excuse the rudeness, you have terrible taste.”

Sungjong growls angrily because he thinks Bobby is the worst of the worst. But at the same time, he has a point.

It takes him some time to make up his mind but in the end, he gives him his number, promising not to ignore his calls or texts. However, he knows for sure that he will never warm up to this rapper, no matter how confident he is.

But turns out, Bobby was right and he was wrong. Or Jiwon, should he say. Jiwon is just what he needed. It’s like Jiwon was made to perfectly fit into his curves. Whether Jiwon made changes for it to happen or if he’s just like that, he doesn’t know. But it doesn’t matter because for once, he’s not afraid of not having control.

They fight just once, when Sungjong finally finds out Jiwon is younger than him. He’s always seemed so cool and ready to solve any problem and takes care of him in a mature way that he’d expected him to be older. Sungjong has – or at least had – this policy of not dating anyone younger. Jiwon kept on stammering that it doesn’t matter but Sungjong’s pride is hurt that he let someone younger take the wheel in the relationship.

However, his anger subsides soon because Jiwon is too sweet and sufficiently assertive for them to fight for a long time. The one bad side is, now he has to attend the hip-hop performances, not just for his brother but also his boyfriend. Of course he doesn’t look for handsome guys in the crowd anymore (or so he tells his boyfriend), but as much as he likes Bobby, it doesn’t ignite a passion for hip-hop within him.

He meets Myungsoo once or twice again, but Bobby shoos him away before he can say hi. It’s kind of relieving to have a personal bodyguard (although he never said so to Jiwon). And in anyway, even if he regrets his decision sometimes, he finds Jiwon and kisses him – that’s enough to remind him why his choice was an absolutely good one.