round 03, challenge six: drabble two
Title: when the music died
Fandom and Pairing: yg ent; taeyang, teddy (non-pairing)
Rating: pg
Word Count: 200
Summary: flashbulb memories last forever.
Warnings: lapslock
june 26th, 2009, 6:30AM KST
they're in the recording studio together (they usually are on the rare days big bang is back in seoul) when youngbae gets the call. teddy watches as his face turns ashen, his hands shaking as he snaps the cell shut, letting it drop onto the table.
his first instinct is to scream; his second is to shut himself in his room for the next few days. his third is to roll over and die. how do you cope, youngbae thinks, when someone you've looked up to for so long just isn't there anymore?
"hyung." somehow, he manages to speak. "jiyong says that michael jackson is dead."
the sudden pressure in teddy's chest is making it hard for him to breathe. his grip on the edge of his desk chair is tight enough that his whole arm goes numb, and his brain takes a snapshot of this moment in time, the flash of his memory illuminating every excruciating detail of the dim room.
without a word, he pulls the top shelf of his desk open, takes out two concert tickets and lets them flutter gently into the wastepaper basket, like the broken remains of butterflies' wings.
Fandom and Pairing: yg ent; taeyang, teddy (non-pairing)
Rating: pg
Word Count: 200
Summary: flashbulb memories last forever.
Warnings: lapslock
june 26th, 2009, 6:30AM KST
they're in the recording studio together (they usually are on the rare days big bang is back in seoul) when youngbae gets the call. teddy watches as his face turns ashen, his hands shaking as he snaps the cell shut, letting it drop onto the table.
his first instinct is to scream; his second is to shut himself in his room for the next few days. his third is to roll over and die. how do you cope, youngbae thinks, when someone you've looked up to for so long just isn't there anymore?
"hyung." somehow, he manages to speak. "jiyong says that michael jackson is dead."
the sudden pressure in teddy's chest is making it hard for him to breathe. his grip on the edge of his desk chair is tight enough that his whole arm goes numb, and his brain takes a snapshot of this moment in time, the flash of his memory illuminating every excruciating detail of the dim room.
without a word, he pulls the top shelf of his desk open, takes out two concert tickets and lets them flutter gently into the wastepaper basket, like the broken remains of butterflies' wings.