[VIXX] For love, for love
This is something that I've been wanting to do for a while. It wanted to be a fic but ended up more on the side of meta-ish and feels dump. 800 words of it.
Click the spoiler to get a image preview of what's behind the cut.
[Images under spoiler to save slow connections]
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Concerts are the worst.
They are extra hours every day, when you don't have more to give; they are new songs to perform, new dances to learn. They are old songs being practiced over and over again to not forget the steps. They are too many people into the same room.
They are new songs, surprising moves, interesting ideas to make everything different. They are an empty practice room, hearing the echoes of your own breath when you can't give more, and your reflection looking back at you when you manage to get up.
They are trips and even weirder sleeping hours and not having time to adjust yourself. They are sound checks and idle times and more rehearsing after.
They are being extra sensitive, too exigent, too tired. Too excited.
They are wearing suits that are too uncomfortable and too hot even when it hasn't started yet.
They are waiting and waiting and waiting some more. They are hearing the venue fill, little by little, the excited mumbling growing stronger every second.
They are a united cheer, six hands together.
They are being in position and feeling your heartbeat in your ears and wanting a little more time to prepare a little better.
And then it begins. And you want everything to go perfectly, like best practice you've ever had. Expression always in place, perfectly practiced. Perfect dance, moving like your body knows this better than you do. You just have to breathe and sing and make it the best you can.
They are lights in your face, music in your ears, hands helping you change. Not seeing, not hearing, not feeling.
They are two hours ending in a blur, breathing again, getting out of the stage, taking everything in. It's done. It went well. It was perfect.
They are the crash that comes after. Feeling the tension leaving you, feeling happy, and maybe a little lighter. They are a success. It's done and it went well, and you can't help but be happy about it. They are wanting to scream, to sing and hug everyone. They are not being over yet. They are changing yet again, but this time it's different. It's not a tight suit, not a complicated dress.
They are a t-shirt and jeans and you feeling excited to go on.
They are getting in line to get outside again, but not feeling the same. They are want to jump and laugh, turning around and seeing all of them feeling the same way. You can see it in the way they look.
They are music starting again, and it feeling like a party. They are easy dancing, steps coming easy, but more free. They are not caring if it's perfect as long as it's fun. They are band mates making funny faces and stupid sounds and you laughing at them, with them, smiling back at them when you can't help but crack up. They are knowing they feel the same way you do.
They are dancing, again, but not on your own bubble. They are being one, together, and finding each others' gazes in the middle. They are sharing a smile when there's a particular high pitched scream. They are music still on your ears, but feeling it all over your body now, telling you to jump and dance and be part of the audience.
They are an audience that sings along, and it's there and jumping with you, and cheering for you. They are you not wanting to stop to think too much about it. They are you doing it anyway, making you teary eyed and grateful and with your heart about to burst.
They are you jumping and jumping and feel the music in your bones. They are singing all the song, sing along all of it, even when it's not your part. They are dancing to it, too. Not the practiced choreography, but just to have fun, to be silly, to enjoy the moment.
They are running. Running to the highest place you can reach and looking everything before you and trying to commit that moment to memory. They are running down, to the very edge of the stage and look at everyone in the eye. Everyone you can reach, and the ones you know they can see you even if you can't. They are feeling like you're about to cry, feeling your voice shaky when you do put your mic against your mouth to sing. But it's okay. They are not being able to help what you're feeling.
They are feeling breathless for a moment, being in the midst of the crowd, feeling overwhelmed by all the love and support you're getting. Being happy to see so many smiles. For you. Because of you.
They are feeling like a small part of something bigger than yourself.
They are greetings, yet again. They are not wanting to cry, really not wanting to cry, but it happening anyway. They are feeling a hand on your shoulder and another squeezing your hip, and it being okay. They are remembering you're not alone, you're never alone, not with them around.
They are giving the final bow and hearing your name, the group name. The music ending and the lights going off and you leaving the stage. They are six people feeling as one.
They are you not being able to stop smiling.
They are the best.
Click the spoiler to get a image preview of what's behind the cut.
[Images under spoiler to save slow connections]
credit
Concerts are the worst.
They are extra hours every day, when you don't have more to give; they are new songs to perform, new dances to learn. They are old songs being practiced over and over again to not forget the steps. They are too many people into the same room.
They are new songs, surprising moves, interesting ideas to make everything different. They are an empty practice room, hearing the echoes of your own breath when you can't give more, and your reflection looking back at you when you manage to get up.
They are trips and even weirder sleeping hours and not having time to adjust yourself. They are sound checks and idle times and more rehearsing after.
They are being extra sensitive, too exigent, too tired. Too excited.
They are wearing suits that are too uncomfortable and too hot even when it hasn't started yet.
They are waiting and waiting and waiting some more. They are hearing the venue fill, little by little, the excited mumbling growing stronger every second.
They are a united cheer, six hands together.
They are being in position and feeling your heartbeat in your ears and wanting a little more time to prepare a little better.
And then it begins. And you want everything to go perfectly, like best practice you've ever had. Expression always in place, perfectly practiced. Perfect dance, moving like your body knows this better than you do. You just have to breathe and sing and make it the best you can.
They are lights in your face, music in your ears, hands helping you change. Not seeing, not hearing, not feeling.
They are two hours ending in a blur, breathing again, getting out of the stage, taking everything in. It's done. It went well. It was perfect.
They are the crash that comes after. Feeling the tension leaving you, feeling happy, and maybe a little lighter. They are a success. It's done and it went well, and you can't help but be happy about it. They are wanting to scream, to sing and hug everyone. They are not being over yet. They are changing yet again, but this time it's different. It's not a tight suit, not a complicated dress.
They are a t-shirt and jeans and you feeling excited to go on.
They are getting in line to get outside again, but not feeling the same. They are want to jump and laugh, turning around and seeing all of them feeling the same way. You can see it in the way they look.
They are music starting again, and it feeling like a party. They are easy dancing, steps coming easy, but more free. They are not caring if it's perfect as long as it's fun. They are band mates making funny faces and stupid sounds and you laughing at them, with them, smiling back at them when you can't help but crack up. They are knowing they feel the same way you do.
They are dancing, again, but not on your own bubble. They are being one, together, and finding each others' gazes in the middle. They are sharing a smile when there's a particular high pitched scream. They are music still on your ears, but feeling it all over your body now, telling you to jump and dance and be part of the audience.
They are an audience that sings along, and it's there and jumping with you, and cheering for you. They are you not wanting to stop to think too much about it. They are you doing it anyway, making you teary eyed and grateful and with your heart about to burst.
They are you jumping and jumping and feel the music in your bones. They are singing all the song, sing along all of it, even when it's not your part. They are dancing to it, too. Not the practiced choreography, but just to have fun, to be silly, to enjoy the moment.
They are running. Running to the highest place you can reach and looking everything before you and trying to commit that moment to memory. They are running down, to the very edge of the stage and look at everyone in the eye. Everyone you can reach, and the ones you know they can see you even if you can't. They are feeling like you're about to cry, feeling your voice shaky when you do put your mic against your mouth to sing. But it's okay. They are not being able to help what you're feeling.
They are feeling breathless for a moment, being in the midst of the crowd, feeling overwhelmed by all the love and support you're getting. Being happy to see so many smiles. For you. Because of you.
They are feeling like a small part of something bigger than yourself.
They are greetings, yet again. They are not wanting to cry, really not wanting to cry, but it happening anyway. They are feeling a hand on your shoulder and another squeezing your hip, and it being okay. They are remembering you're not alone, you're never alone, not with them around.
They are giving the final bow and hearing your name, the group name. The music ending and the lights going off and you leaving the stage. They are six people feeling as one.
They are you not being able to stop smiling.
They are the best.