round 03, challenge six: drabble six
Title: capsize, downsize, lifesize
Fandom and Pairing: big bang, gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 200
Summary: just another big bang piano bar. future!fic.
Warnings: none.
Plastered to the wall of an otherwise drab building is a sign advertising a dueling piano bar. Seunghyun stands at the top of the stairs leading into a niche of smoke and spirits beneath the trafficked Main Street, and takes one last breath before following the stoplight-red arrow.
It must be a hundred degrees in the crowded room. The spotlights orbit around the two grand pianos where Jiyong and Youngbae are sitting, back to back. Fingers fly over keys in three-fourth tempo. Daesung rocks the drums and Seungri the bass guitar. The tip jars are pitched, stuffed with bills and napkins pretending to be bills. They all look great enough to catch planes and lay bridges over oceans in five seconds flat.
“Sorry, kid, we don’t do songs from when we were famous,” Youngbae says when somebody shout-slurs a request.
“Besides, our songs are so two decades ago. The world’s sick of us brainwashing girls with our ageless charm.” Jiyong spots Seunghyun lingering in the back as usual and winks. “Right, Bingu?”
He leads the burst into a new melody.
Seunghyun’s vision blurs into bokeh except for the smiles bright enough to make the sun go down and Jiyong’s acid-green hair.
Fandom and Pairing: big bang, gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 200
Summary: just another big bang piano bar. future!fic.
Warnings: none.
Plastered to the wall of an otherwise drab building is a sign advertising a dueling piano bar. Seunghyun stands at the top of the stairs leading into a niche of smoke and spirits beneath the trafficked Main Street, and takes one last breath before following the stoplight-red arrow.
It must be a hundred degrees in the crowded room. The spotlights orbit around the two grand pianos where Jiyong and Youngbae are sitting, back to back. Fingers fly over keys in three-fourth tempo. Daesung rocks the drums and Seungri the bass guitar. The tip jars are pitched, stuffed with bills and napkins pretending to be bills. They all look great enough to catch planes and lay bridges over oceans in five seconds flat.
“Sorry, kid, we don’t do songs from when we were famous,” Youngbae says when somebody shout-slurs a request.
“Besides, our songs are so two decades ago. The world’s sick of us brainwashing girls with our ageless charm.” Jiyong spots Seunghyun lingering in the back as usual and winks. “Right, Bingu?”
He leads the burst into a new melody.
Seunghyun’s vision blurs into bokeh except for the smiles bright enough to make the sun go down and Jiyong’s acid-green hair.