fic: Catalyst :: chapter one
Author's note: I'm kind of experimenting with this fic. Namely, with the POV: it's easy to write a female POV because I'm one, but I decided to try my hand at male POV... I can't pretend like it's going to be easy as pie, because guys think in such a different way from us (think about it like this: guys think linearly, whereas girls' thoughts bounce all over the place according to the stimuli of the moment), but I'll try!
Enjoy, and let me know what you think, eh?
She’d hate him. She surely would. Call him a monster, all kinds of names, and she’d try to run. As far as possible. Futilely. It downright killed him that he'd have to contain her.
“No.”
“Yes. It will be you.” The president’s voice held a sharp note of finality, brooking no further argument. But Seunghyun was nothing if not hardheaded.
“Why me? She’s closer to Youngbae or Jiyong, even.”
“She’ll need someone she doesn’t feel too attached to.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Yang Hyunsuk steepled his hands upon the glass top of his office desk, leveling an even, somewhat flinty, piercing gaze upon him. “Youngbae would devastate her.”
“She’d never hate him,” he insisted.
The president remained impassive. “She’d come to resent him, for trusting him.”
Seunghyun was going mad. Surely he was going mad. “And it’s fine if she hates me?” he asked half hysterically. Hang on, it wasn’t him going mad; it was the whole damn world, going cuckoo on a fucked-up new axis of doom.
“Anyway,” the president shrugged with ennui, “Youngbae will be busy with someone else.”
“Who,” Seunghyun demanded, dropping formality momentarily.
The president’s eyes narrowed a fraction at the insolence, but the other hint as to his annoyance was when he took his time answering, and dismissively at that. “That is none of your concern, keun Seunghyun.” When Seunghyun failed to get the message - or rather he did, but chose to ignore it, he waved his hand, adding, “We’re done here.”
Seunghyun remained seated a few moments longer, grasping the full extent of what was about to hit him like a car crash in the face, and reeled. Christ, it was going to get ugly. “You’re making a huge mistake, sajangnim,” he warned duly before grabbing his things - his bag and winter coat - and heading out.
But not before his president arrested him with his next words... a thread underlying calm words. “Say any more, Seunghyun, and you’ll be making a huge mistake yourself. Am I quite understood?”
Seunghyun released the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.
The president was not done. “I realise it’s an extenuating circumstance, but I won’t tolerate being talked at, ever. This decision was not made lightly, and I would have rather not have to make it at all, but the girls are ready and this can’t be delayed any longer.”
Swallowing, Seunghyun took a deep breath, calming breath, letting it suffuse him before opening his eyes and drawing himself to his full height. Without turning around, he schooled his voice to ask, “When will we do it?”
President Yang didn’t delay his answer. “Tonight, I believe,” he replied from his desk. Seunghyun could feel his eyes boring into his back. “You know what to do?”
Seunghyun inclined his head even as he flinched inside. Tonight. Fuck. “It will be done,” he assured as evenly as he could manage. Which was barely.
#
He crossed her on his way out as he was drawing on his coat the brave the cold January winter. She sat with Dara and Jiyong in the cafeteria, sharing laughs and guarding her lunch jealously - as if anyone ever dared to steal something from her...
He must have been standing there a moment too long, because Ji glanced sideways at him and broke out into all the “hey, come on over, hyung”s.
“I was heading out,” he replied lamely, finally tugging on the scarf he’d been holding aloft, frozen in bemused contemplation.
“Well, be back before sunset,” Ji replied goodnaturedly. “I need you in the recording booth at four.”
As he rumbled a wordless assent a little too late, Seunghyun caught Bom’s eye and wanted to be anywhere but there. All he could see was the accusation and fear he was sure to see before the night was over.
Shit.
“I gotta go,” he choked out. So he went. Out into the pale, bleary, biting winter air.
#
He found himself overlooking the Han River, shoving his frozen hands into the depths of his heavy coat. Christ, he needed a smoke. He needed to do something to get his mind off of the nightmare ticking like a time bomb.
Anything not to think about what tonight entailed... what it would demand of part of him.
Oh, he’d known for a few months that at some point he’d probably be called on... to walk one of them through the whole process, for better or for worse. Hell, he’d been getting cold sweats about it since the girls naturally formed their little training group and were told to train together from then on. He’d known, then, right then, that it was only a matter of time. And so he’d prayed that he’d be the odd one out, the fifth wheel, literally, so he wouldn’t have it on his conscience should anything terrible happen.
You only get the one chance, Dongwook had told him about a year ago, when it had become clear the girls would debut soon, so naturally you just pray you don’t blow it.
“Spoken like a lucky bastard,” Seunghyun whispered to the thick clouds caressing the inky river. His hyung had been spared from the initiation game, passed over for young bloods, as it were. He’d never had to go through the rollercoaster he’d been riding for what seemed like far too long. Always waiting, always dreading.
As he leaned against a metal guard railing, staring out at the dark expanse below, Seunghyun frowned, unseeing. She’d hate him. She surely would. Call him a monster, all kinds of names, and she’d try to run. As far as possible. Futilely.
It downright killed him that he’d have to contain her. Until the very end. Shit, his skin crawled just thinking about it.
What the fuck?! his own voice echoed back at him, haunting with its raw, rank fear. You’re insane! No, he’d not felt as brave as all that.
Seunghyun closed his eyes, sharp pain lancing through him as memories assailed him like a wild kaleidoscope he couldn’t stop. Pain, just pain, then numbness. Wild fragments interspersed with the coldness and a damn rattling ceiling fan. Retching. Death’s door. Disorientation. Then cold, hard, bitter realisation. Days upon days of devastated... nothingness... He remembered the sidelong glances... Are you okay? No, he hadn’t been. He’d wanted to die.
A tinny melody rent the air at that moment, jerking him back to the present in one fell swoop. Fishing his handphone out, Seunghyun read the name glowing back at him: Jiyong. Squinting at the distance, he rolled his eyes. The sun hadn’t even begun its descent behind its thick barrage of clouds. The pale glow shone softly behind Seoul’s cityscape.
Pressing Talk, Seunghyun nevertheless pressed the phone to his ear. “It hasn’t set,” he grunted as greeting.
His one-track-minded friend, leader and hard-ass producer said one word before hanging up: “Recording.” The line went dead.
Rolling his eyes once more, Seunghyun shoved his phone back into his coat pocket with disgust, and bid the river so long. It might be a while before he was allowed to walk during daytime again.
But the pressed ass was going to have to wait for the time it took to walk back. No shortcuts. No, sir.
#
“Hyung!”
Seunghyun glowered as he threw his back on the couch. “Where’s the fire,” he bit out.
“What bit your ass and crawled back out,” Jiyong sneered, turning back with disgust to his soundwave layers and mumbling some more choice insults under his breath.
“Hey,” Teddy called firmly from under headphones, visibly bumping to some new beat in there. “Blow some steam, guys. This ain’t the place for knuckle fights.”
Seunghyun took a seat on the couch and hugged a pillow, waiting for the fire.
Teddy bumped some more, then took off the headphones, hooking them around his neck. Business time. “Okay, Ji, sounds good. What’ve you got?” He grabbed the notebook Jiyong handed him, and bit his lip in concentration as he checked over his lyrics.
“I figured hyung and I could lay our tracks for this song in advance since Youngbae’s busy with his promotions,” Ji explained conversationally.
Teddy made a wordless sound of assent as he mumbled to himself, pencil poised and making quick edits.
Ah, so this was about the upcoming Japanese album.
Jiyong stared at Teddy’s pencil move onto the page morosely. “My English sucks,” he lamented, grimacing in defeat.
“Naw,” Teddy chuckled, finally looking up. “It’s obvious you listen to a lot of gangsta rap, though - let’s do dat thang, you my shawty shawty...”
“That’s his part,” Jiyong mentioned in passing, pointing at Seunghyun.
Who got bit by the curiosity bug. Slinking off the couch, Seunghyun parked it next to Teddy. And frowned. “The hell does ladi-dadi mean?”
Teddy coughed, barely covering a snicker.
Causing Ji to go all diva. “Oh, fuck you.”
Reading and translating in his head a tad slower than Teddy, Seunghyun’s eyes rounded to indignant saucers. “You gave me all the gangsta lines!” he accused.
Ji shoved away broodingly from his chair. “Write your own damn lyrics if you’re much better,” he hurled before slamming out of the studio.
A beat passed uncomfortably, then Teddy cleared his throat. “I think it’s best if you guys take a breather today. You’re all on edge as it is. Add album production and kaboom.” Carefully he closed Ji’s lyrics book and lay it on the desk next to the controls, there to wait its owner’s reappearance at a later, hopefully more opportune time. “You should go, too. Get some rest.” He looked up, glancing at Seunghyun’s face a little more closely. “And you look sick, my man. Have you...”
“I’m fine,” Seunghyun grunted, knowing he was anything but. He felt on edge, his insides twisting, his skin too tight on his bones, too sensitive. He knew he wasn’t fine. But he fucking hated being a slave to his body’s needs.
Teddy’s piercing eyes didn’t miss much. “You need to take care of yourself,” he said in a low voice, squeezing his shoulder in an almost fatherly gesture.
Seunghyun nodded absently, then frowned. “What’s it like?” he suddenly asked.
“What?”
“For the... initiator...” he finished awkwardly.
“Ah.” Losing his easy countenance, Teddy seemed to retreat into himself, a far-away expression coming over him. “Well,” he began carefully, “let’s just say I haven’t to Yeonah in years. And we didn’t really talk much even when Big Mama was still with us.”
“She hated you?”
Teddy shook his head thoughtfully. “No, not so much. We just didn’t have anything to say to each other.” He scratched his head, and Seunghyun got the feeling it was awkward for him to talk about. “Ever. Before and after.” He shrugged. “She didn’t hate me, though, that I’m positive about.”
“Why so sure?”
Teddy looked up, locking eyes with Seunghyun. “I made sure,” he said with firm finality, closing that discussion. Seunghyun mentally shrugged. Fine, he wouldn’t pry, but it sure didn’t help him. “Who’d you get?” Teddy asked, changing the subject and drawing a groan out of Seunghyun.
He rubbed his face, feeling ever rough whisker scraping his palm. Damn, he’d forgotten to shave. “Bom,” he muttered through his fingers, feeling every bit as shitty as when the president had announced his predicament earlier.
“Oh, my,” was his hyung’s only comment, albeit a loaded one. “You ready?”
Seunghyun snorted. “Nope. I’m one step away from going nuts.”
“Awh.” Teddy smiled, jabbing his elbow into Seunghyun’s side amicably. “Take it cool, man. She won’t bite.”
“Yet,” Seunghyun muttered darkly.