Five.
Changmin no longer remembered how difficult things were back then.
Maybe those days were as difficult as “they” said them to be. Maybe they were really entrapped in slave contracts. Maybe they really were worked to the point of exhaustion, fatigue beyond feeling - maybe they were all just numb to it all.
Or maybe there was no such thing as “slave contracts”. They had all signed the contracts willingly. But there was a difference - then, they were all bright-eyed, eager boys, awed at the prospect of superstardom, the idea of thousands of girls (those enigmatic creatures who caused their male friends so much grief yet so much joy) screaming after them. Contracts were for their allegiance to the company. But these previously innocent contracts “enslaved” them, they became their captors when fame and riches became an everyday thing and more was never enough.
Maybe back then, slave contracts or not, it didn’t matter. They were Dong Bang Shin Gi.
They were five.
Yunho, the caring leader with his low voice which always made interviews all that much more comfortable; the same low voice which spoke so much sense to them.
Jaejoong, the mother hen of the group, cooking and making sure they were all fed, and rested as much as was possible; the enigmatic pair of eyes which seemed to see everything in your soul yet kept the secrets safe in his heart.
Yoochun, noisy, boisterous, mischievous, so American; yet, the crybaby of the group.
Junsu, with his high-pitched squeaks and melodic laughter, his love for soccer, his love for music; what he thought was the love for the five of them, as one.
Changmin didn’t know if they were slave contracts. He didn’t know why one day the three called for a meeting with the managers, him and Yunho. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand the words they were saying. He didn’t understand why the managers slammed their fists on the table. He didn’t understand why they kept saying “the three of us”.
He only saw the clueless look on Yunho’s face, quickly replaced by one of sadness and confusion.
All he could think of was, why do they keep saying the three of us?
Who are these three?
Isn’t it the five of us?
Five?
He didn’t know why.
But he shut himself in his room the next two days, listening to the noises outside, in the dorm. Or rather, the deafening lack of noise.
Five became two.
He didn’t know if they could ever perform on the same stage ever again, to the beats of Rising Sun, Mirotic, or Tri-angle.
He didn’t know if he was abandoned. Or whether they had reached out to him once but he never got the hint.
He didn’t know if things would have been different. If they would have remained as five: a group, regardless of the name of the management company. If they would have been five separate persons, retired from the limelight. If it would still have been a three, and the two.
He didn’t know if there was ever a “five”.
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really raw since i just opened a word doc and everything just.. flowed. wow, two pieces in one day. its been ages since i wrote dbsg fics. i have no idea what possessed me. but here goes. =)
dedicated to mangoquirks for our tweets which set me thinking.. and ta-dah!
not sure if i should leave a spot for the people i usually leave spots for since im not sure if they're part of the fandom but do leave comments if you guys see this and like it! =)
Maybe those days were as difficult as “they” said them to be. Maybe they were really entrapped in slave contracts. Maybe they really were worked to the point of exhaustion, fatigue beyond feeling - maybe they were all just numb to it all.
Or maybe there was no such thing as “slave contracts”. They had all signed the contracts willingly. But there was a difference - then, they were all bright-eyed, eager boys, awed at the prospect of superstardom, the idea of thousands of girls (those enigmatic creatures who caused their male friends so much grief yet so much joy) screaming after them. Contracts were for their allegiance to the company. But these previously innocent contracts “enslaved” them, they became their captors when fame and riches became an everyday thing and more was never enough.
Maybe back then, slave contracts or not, it didn’t matter. They were Dong Bang Shin Gi.
They were five.
Yunho, the caring leader with his low voice which always made interviews all that much more comfortable; the same low voice which spoke so much sense to them.
Jaejoong, the mother hen of the group, cooking and making sure they were all fed, and rested as much as was possible; the enigmatic pair of eyes which seemed to see everything in your soul yet kept the secrets safe in his heart.
Yoochun, noisy, boisterous, mischievous, so American; yet, the crybaby of the group.
Junsu, with his high-pitched squeaks and melodic laughter, his love for soccer, his love for music; what he thought was the love for the five of them, as one.
Changmin didn’t know if they were slave contracts. He didn’t know why one day the three called for a meeting with the managers, him and Yunho. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand the words they were saying. He didn’t understand why the managers slammed their fists on the table. He didn’t understand why they kept saying “the three of us”.
He only saw the clueless look on Yunho’s face, quickly replaced by one of sadness and confusion.
All he could think of was, why do they keep saying the three of us?
Who are these three?
Isn’t it the five of us?
Five?
He didn’t know why.
But he shut himself in his room the next two days, listening to the noises outside, in the dorm. Or rather, the deafening lack of noise.
Five became two.
He didn’t know if they could ever perform on the same stage ever again, to the beats of Rising Sun, Mirotic, or Tri-angle.
He didn’t know if he was abandoned. Or whether they had reached out to him once but he never got the hint.
He didn’t know if things would have been different. If they would have remained as five: a group, regardless of the name of the management company. If they would have been five separate persons, retired from the limelight. If it would still have been a three, and the two.
He didn’t know if there was ever a “five”.
web counter
-
really raw since i just opened a word doc and everything just.. flowed. wow, two pieces in one day. its been ages since i wrote dbsg fics. i have no idea what possessed me. but here goes. =)
dedicated to mangoquirks for our tweets which set me thinking.. and ta-dah!
not sure if i should leave a spot for the people i usually leave spots for since im not sure if they're part of the fandom but do leave comments if you guys see this and like it! =)