post #6

[exopromptmeme]

TL;DR RULES
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2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
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[fill] rock to this (1/?)

[anonymous]

i. i'm sorry. i don't know how to rock band??? but i tried ;u;

Minseok leans back in his seat, twirling a drumstick idly in his fingers as he watches the people around him. Yixing is somewhere to his left, fiddling with the sound system and plugging the all wires that Minseok has never been able to keep straight into the correct sockets. Zitao is messing with his bass, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge of the stage. Kris and Jongdae are talking quietly by the keyboard as Kris adjusts the stand to the correct hight, leaning close to be heard over the soft buzz of the club. Luhan has disappeared somewhere, probably off to the bar.

It’s a little past 10 p.m., and Minseok knows that outside the Hongdae area is just starting to come to life. Downstairs in the club, though, things are still moving slowly. Their show doesn’t start for another hour, and only a few diehard fans have arrived already. Some of them are setting up some serious looking camera equipment and Minseok shudders, glad that people hardly ever bother to take pictures of him. He can hide behind his drums in his jeans and logo t-shirts and snapback hats, getting progressively more sweaty and disheveled without much worry of unattractive pictures of his face being uploaded on the internet.

Zitao, on the other hand, is dressed to the nines as always, all leather and studs and piercings. His newly dyed hair is gelled into a faux hawk and he smiles slightly as he leans over his bass, combat boots bouncing against the side of the stage. He loves the rock image, thrives on it, and manages to make it look damn good. Luhan is similar, although he goes more for the rough and torn image, preferring tank tops and jeans that are more rips than fabric. He’s plastered his guitar with stickers like he’s trying to make a statement, but Minseok knows that it’s mostly just because Luhan thinks it looks cool.

Kris tries to dress for the occasion too, but mostly he just ends up looking like a runway model who got lost and wandered into the club on accident. That’s ok though, because he’s tall and has a nice face, so their primarily female audience is willing to forgive him.

Sometimes Minseok wonders what the founders of the Korean punk and rock movements would think of them. Probably that they’re disgusting sellouts, he figures. They’re not angry enough at society to be punk, too concerned with their image to be grunge. Their music doesn’t have any particular message, and they thrive on the screams and adoration of their fans.

But it’s fun, and Minseok supposes that’s enough. Who cares if Jongdae primarily croons lyrics about sex and heartbreak into the microphone, or if Kris and Zitao spend their free time window-shopping at designer stores. They enjoy it, enjoy the music and the adrenaline and the performance, and that’s all that really matters.

“Minseokie!” someone screams in Minseok’s ear and he jumps, startled out of his thoughts, bumping into the cymbals. The resulting crash draws the eyes of everyone in the vicinity and Minseok curses as he feels himself turning red in embarrassment.

“Everything ok?” Kris asks with a raised eyebrow, and Jongdae snorts.

“Yes,” Minseok grinds out as he feels arms wrap around him from behind.

“Minseokie,” Luhan repeats loudly. He leans forward and his pink hair swims into Minseok’s vision as Luhan grabs Minseok’s cheek and starts to moosh it around. He’s already started drinking - Minseok can smell it on his breath. “Why do you look so serious?”

“Get off, fucker,” Minseok replies, leaning away from Luhan’s grasp and attempting to elbow him in the stomach. “Go bother someone else.”