Yoongi was never a big fan of organization. His song lyrics were mostly composed on old napkins from the diner he and Namjoon frequented, and they rarely got transferred onto actual paper. His old writing notebooks were scattered in the drawers and on the tables in his studio, the only thing differentiating them were the occasional scribbles of numbers that were supposed to be dates.

Yoongi could see how he could benefit from a little bit of organization as he was sifting through crumpled napkins and old notebooks with curled pages, trying to find that lyric or melody that he knew he wrote down. And picturing Namjoon’s organized desk, he really envied the color coded sticky notes and writing that actually stayed between the lines.

Seeing that Yoongi was so unorganized, one would think he loved Seoul. With its scattered people, and weirdly placed shops, one would think Seoul would be the only place Yoongi felt at home.

He hated it. To him, Seoul was just a bigger, smellier, more cramped version of Daegu. Yoongi looked at the grime on the concrete walls with disgust, he saw the newspapers littered on the streets and stuck in the soggy gutters and scrunched his nose. He looked up at the buildings that were so much taller than him and drew his eyebrows together in irritation. Seoul may have more opportunities and better people than he could ever find in Daegu, but it was still ten times worse.

    Yoongi valued his independence. He wanted to be able to do what he wanted, follow his dreams and have his own ideals like he wrote about in his songs. That’s what Seoul meant to him. Freedom. He could never have that in Daegu, with his parents breathing down his neck and his siblings succeeding in every area of life that he wasn’t.
   
    If someone were to ask him if he liked Seoul, he would brush it off saying that it was okay, and where he needed to be. He wouldn’t tell them that he was only here to succeed. Or that the friends he had here were the only people he really cared about, despite the fact that he would leave the city’s busy atmosphere if he could. But to do what he wanted he needed the city - he needed Seoul. To make music he needed the wide variety of people that passed from club to club and the energy they gave off.

    Yoongi harshly signed as he continued to search through the trash can in his studio. He had one for paper, and one for other trash because Namjoon insisted that he organize it at least a little bit. Namjoon had barged into his studio with an extra trash can one day while Yoongi was digging through empty take out boxes and cups of coffee, “I can hear you cursing about your trash from my studio and I’m four ing rooms away. And the walls are soundproof.” Yoongi started separating his trash after that.
   
    While he was on his knees by the trash, he heard a knock on his door and Namjoon let himself in not even a second after. Yoongi looked up and narrowed his eyes, “How many times have I told you not to barge in here?”

    “I knocked.” Namjoon retorted, looking around the room with judgement of Yoongi’s lack of cleanliness clear on his face.

    “It didn’t do much.” Yoongi curled his lip, hoping Namjoon noticed the ty mood he was in and left. “Have you seen the lyrics I wrote last week in the diner?”

    “Which ones?”

    “They were about dreams.” Yoongi watched Namjoon closely, desperately searching for any sign of recognition visible in his expression.

    “Aren’t all of your lyrics about dreams? Just pick another one.” Namjoon said, teasing.

    “ you, Joon.” Yoongi sighed again, “I really need to find this one. I know I wrote them down better than I have them in my head.”

    Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Namjoon roll his eyes and shrug, “I dunno. But it really ing stinks in here, Yoongs.” He scrunches his nose.

    “I don’t have windows.” Yoongi pointed out.

    “As if you’d use them anyway.” Namjoon replies, and Yoongi can’t muster up enough energy to argue against him.

    “ you.” Yoongi hits his head on the back of his desk from where he is sitting on the floor.

    “You already said that.” Namjoon leans against the doorway, and Yoongi shoots him a glare that says get out. Namjoon, again, rolls his eyes and Yoongi wonders when he became a friend instead of a hyung. “Chill out, Yoongs. If you can’t find it you probably left it at the diner.”

    “I know I didn’t leave it in the damn diner because I remember shoving it in my -” this is when Yoongi comes to a realization, and hits his head against his desk a little bit harder, “- bag.”

Namjoon snorts.
   
    Yoongi stands up to grab his backpack and drops it onto his desk. Its old, almost in rags, the straps look like they’re about to snap, but he doesn’t want to get a new one. Namjoon watches him as he digs to the bottom and pulls out a handful of crumpled notebook paper and napkins.

    “Why do you carry so much trash?” Namjoon scrunches his nose again and Yoongi recalls the folders Namjoon carries around as if he actually went to college and never dropped out. that.

    “It's not trash, these are my lyrics.” Yoongi retorts.

    “ing hell, Yoongi. I’m buying you a candle for this place.” Namjoon looks around the room and seems to remember the papers that litter every single surface, “On second thought, nevermind.”

    “Found it.” Yoongi stated, clearly proud that his method of shoving everything into the bottom of his bag didn’t fail him. He holds up a napkin that Namjoon is halfway sure was used before Yoongi wrote on it. Yoongi looks at him and says, “Out.”

    He starts shoving Namjoon out of the room when he blurts, “Wait, wait! Yoongs, I came in here for a reason, I’ve got a question.”

    Yoongi stops pushing him and steps back, looking up at Namjoon with his head tilted in curiosity, “Well? Get it over with.”

    “I’ve got us a gig. But it's uh- the place is kind of different from where we usually perform.” Namjoon proposed, and at his sheepish expression and the fact that he was asking instead of telling, Yoongi realized exactly where Namjoon wanted them to perform.

    “No.” Yoongi stated as Namjoon’s hopeful expression fell, “We are not performing at some open mic bar just because you think the bartender is cute. A gig? They’re not even going to pay us Namjoon, it’ll be for free.”

    “Hyung, come on.” Namjoon pleaded desperately, and Yoongi noticed that he had pulled out the hyung card. “It's just one night, I swear. Plus he told me they’re looking for a permanent opener, if we’re good enough they might hire us for it!”

    “You want us to open for a ing open mic night, Namjoon?” Yoongi questions incredulously, “Just for a guy? God, you’re so soft, imagine how much Jackson would make fun of you if he saw you like this.”

“Yoongs, please.” Namjoon please, one last time. “Do this for me, I’ll do anything.”

Yoongi thinks about all the meals he can get Namjoon to buy him for this one, probably way more than when Yoongi helped him with his composition homework back when Namjoon still attended college. “Fine. But we’re only doing this once Namjoon. We can’t be ing around with gigs that won't get us recognized, got it?”

“Got it.”

-

“Yoongi, I promise this’ll be good for us.” Namjoon has been trying to convince Yoongi of the benefits of performing at this bar for the last four days. Yoongi shivers at the thought of the harassment he would have received if he had said no. “Just,” Namjoon pleaded, “play nice, okay?”

They were here already, and Yoongi wonders how the days went by so fast. He guesses that when you're dreading something, it must come a lot faster. It’s probably some sort of sick joke his mind is playing on him because he swears he ordered new music equipment months ago and it still isn't coming. “I don't think this benefits us, it benefits you. Or more specifically your .” Namjoon goes red at this, and Yoongi tries to think of any other situation where he had seen Namjoon blush. He can’t come up with anything.

Yoongi coughs, the cold air seeping through his lungs for just a little bit longer than he would like it to. If this city had so many damn people, why wasn’t it warmer? He feels like Seoul somehow manages to be ten times colder than Daegu. Maybe it’s just the atmosphere. “When am I not nice to strangers? You make me seem like an antisocial beast, Joon.”

“I don’t think I’d disagree with that.” Yoongi shoots him a glare out of the corner of his eye, “Just try to be a little nicer than normal, huh Yoongs? I know you’ll like this place. It’s not as loud as the clubs we go to, and there aren't as many people either.” Yoongi considers this. That does sound pretty nice, but then he remembers that he’s about to perform for free at a ing open mic night most likely filled with drunk college students and the occasional high school student that managed to escape a night of studying.

    “Fine.” Yoongi walks ahead of Namjoon into the bar, and somehow Namjoon knows him well enough to know that he’ll try a little bit harder this time.

-

    Yoongi’s mood starts to go sour (if it could even get any worse) as soon as he walks into the bar. Namjoon was right; it's small, there's not as many people as there normally would be at his gigs, and it's definitely not as loud, but the place is still packed. Yoongi thinks they may as well be at a club because each seat is so close that he’s probably going to be touching elbows with whoever sits next to him. He turns around and spots Namjoon walk in behind him, almost losing him because there’s already so many people between himself and the door. Namjoon locks eyes with him and seems to understand his frustrations, “There's not usually this many people.” He says this as if it’s a question instead of a statement, and for some reason this irritates Yoongi a little bit more.

    Namjoon’s body straightens, and his gaze darts behind Yoongi, presumably at the bar. “I think Jin saved us some seats by the bar.” Namjoon has a sparkle in his eye, a ing sparkle, and Yoongi sighs as he turns around to take a look at Namjoon’s recent crush.

    Jin is pretty, Yoongi can’t deny that, he doesn’t think anyone would argue against it. His kind eyes and pouty lips stick out like a sore thumb, and Yoongi wonders how someone who looks like that could be a bartender. Jin waves them over and as Namjoon is shoving him through the crowd, Yoongi notices that Jin is about as tall as Namjoon, if not taller. He doesn’t really want to think about that.

    As soon as they reach the bar, Namjoon and Jin exchange greetings, fumbling over their words, and that hint of a blush appears on Namjoon’s face again when he tries to reach over the bar for a hug and ends up knocking over a glass of some red liquid that Yoongi can’t even imagine the name of. It’s all a little too lovey dovey than Yoongi can handle, especially when Namjoon is involved. He tries to avert his gaze and let them awkwardly finish speaking when he hears his name being mentioned, “Yoongi?” he snaps his eyes back to Namjoon, realizing that his attempt at flirting finally ended, “This is Seokjin, the bartender I told you about, remember?”

    “I figured.” At Namjoon’s attempt of a subtle glare, Yoongi shoots Seokjin a grin and holds out his hand, “Yoongi.” Seokjin grabs his hand and they shake, his hands are soft and Yoongi honestly doesn’t blame Namjoon for becoming incapable of speaking around him.

    Yoongi doesn’t miss the fond smile on Seokjin’s face when Namjoon tries to act mean, and he says, “Nice to meet you, Yoongi. I’ve heard a lot.” Yoongi shots Namjoon a look that says what the did you say about me? And Namjoon shrugs.

    “You too,” Yoongi says, and he means it sincerely. He looks over at Namjoon and questions, “When are we going up, Joon?”

    Instead of Namjoon answering, Seokjin does, “You guys are opening! You should go set up before you have to go on, I’ll wait for you to get back.” He grins, Namjoon grins back, and Yoongi nods. He basically has to pull Namjoon away from the bar and they push their way through the crowd to set up.

-

    “How many songs are we doing?” Yoongi questions, sitting on a stool behind the stage.

    “Just three, they’ve got quite a few signed up for the open mic tonight. Jinnie says half of them will probably bail, though.” Yoongi scoffs when Namjoon says ‘Jinnie’ and Namjoon pretends not to notice.

    “That’s fine, I wasn’t expecting a big set.” Yoongi drums his fingers on his thigh, ready to be on the stage and feel the rush of the crowd. He doubts it’ll be as exhilarating this time, but that doesn’t mean he’ll hate it. A man walks into the room to let them know that, “we’re ready when you are.” And Namjoon finishes fixing his hair in the dirty mirror that stands against the wall. Yoongi doesn’t know why he bothers, but he decides not to say anything this time.

    Namjoon asks him how his hair looks and Yoongi rolls his eyes before leading them onto the stage. He lets Namjoon take the reigns with the introductions, introducing himself as Rapmon (it used to be Rap Monster but Yoongi until he changed it) and Yoongi as Agust D. The crowd is so loud that Yoongi can barely hear him, but he does hear it when the first beat of their first song comes out of the speakers.

    The crowd gets louder; they jump and they sing along to the lyrics and Yoongi can’t believe the rush he gets from the crowd in this tiny bar. Halfway through the second song, Yoongi looks over at Namjoon and sees his hair hanging in sweaty strands over his forehead. So much for that stupid hair gel. He looks over at the bar and sees a blonde boy talking animatedly at Jin, but Jin isn’t paying him any attention. He breaks a wine glass and Yoongi smiles, maybe Namjoon and Jin are better for each other than he thought they’d be.

    Towards the end of the third song Yoongi spots a head of pink hair push its way through the crowd, and he recall’s when his hair was pink (“It’s grapefruit, Yoongs.” “I don’t think it ing matters Namjoon, you just dyed my hair pink on accident.”). The head disappears between people and Yoongi almost finds himself missing the brightness in the crowd of dark colors.

    Their set ends earlier than Yoongi wanted it to. His shirt is sticking to his skin and his breathing is coming out in harsh pants, and he loves it. He loves the rush of the crowd, and the smile on Namjoon’s face as he looks at Jin, and the people that scream their names in the front row. He loves being on the stage, and he realizes he really loves this stage in particular, but he could never confess that to Namjoon.

-

    “Joonie that was amazing!” Yoongi hears Jin yell this over the bar and he takes a sip of the beer Seokjin had waiting for them when they came from behind the stage. They had changed their clothes and Yoongi was now wearing a white shirt under his leather jacket instead of the grey hoodie he had on before. They started bringing changes of clothes to their gigs after Namjoon pointed out that he was sick of bathing in his own sweat, and Yoongi was glad he had Namjoon to think of these things.

    “Thanks, Jinnie.” Namjoon was blushing again as Jin threw his arms around him and Yoongi still wasn’t used to it. But it was kind of cute, he guessed.

    “You too, Yoongi! You guys were so cool.” Yoongi thanked Jin for his compliment and his gaze shifted towards the tanned blonde that was talking to Jin while they were on stage. “Oh, this is Taehyung. Him and his friends go to a college nearby. The two of them come here to dance every weekend, Taehyungie just likes to sit with me and watch, though.” Yoongi gives him a nod while Namjoon introduces himself. He hears a, “and this grump is Yoongi.” but decides to ignore it because he doesn’t want to yell at Namjoon in front of Jin. He would probably find it funny, but he doesn’t want to get an earful from Namjoon while they walk to their separate apartments later.

    Taehyung shoots them a wide smile, possible one of the brightest Yoongi has ever seen, and says, “I think Kookie and Jimin are up after you guys. They just went backstage to set up their music. They should be on any second now!” Yoongi glanced at the stage and saw another flash of pink hair, he wondered if that was Jimin or Kookie. “They’re great, you guys will love it.” Yoongi wonders how they’ll have enough room to dance on that stage when he felt like he hardly had enough room to rap.

    The pink haired one steps onto the stage first, and a boy with the darkest black hair he had ever seen follows behind. He taps on the mic a little bit to make sure it's working, and shoots someone backstage a thumbs up. Yoongi figures they were having mic problems or something. The pink haired one shoots everyone a smile and Yoongi thinks that this is the brightest smile he’s ever seen. “Hey guys, I’m Jimin and this is Jungkook! We’ll be dancing a routine that we’ve been working on for a while.” With no further explanation, Jimin gives the mic to someone offstage and he and Jungkook get into their positions.

    When the music starts it’s a song Yoongi recognizes, and he gives Namjoon a look that says he appreciates their song choice. The two boys stay still for the first couple of beats, but as soon as they start moving Yoongi can’t keep his eyes off of Jimin. He can hear Taehyung screaming their names in his ear and the beat of the music that is in sync with every movement of the boy’s body, but he doesn't know that he actually hears it. The two boys dance like it's the only thing they know how to do. They use each other's bodies to create movements that go perfectly with the mood of the song. The crowd is yelling and Jimin looks like he lives off of it. Yoongi watches a bead of sweat roll down Jimin’s temple and their eyes lock. Yoongi thinks that this is the prettiest boy he’s ever seen. Jimin does a particular body roll and it sends shivers down Yoongi’s spine.

    Their routine ends way too fast and Yoongi would live this moment over and over again if he could. The two boys express their gratitude to the crowd and walk backstage. Yoongi looks over at Namjoon, whose attention is on Jin just like it has been the entire night, he gets his attention by grabbing at his shoulder and Namjoon looks at him in question, “What’s wrong, Yoongs?”

    “Namjoon, we can come here whenever you want.” Namjoon just laughs.