Syncopation | Yeongyu TXT

04

Kai gasps dramatically. "So it's true. You're in a secret boyband. You're debuting without me."

"I swear to God—" Beomgyu slams the speaker button so Taehyun can share in his misery.

Taehyun takes a slow sip of water. "He's not debuting. He's just dumb. Also, hi, Kai."

"HYUN. TELL ME THE TRUTH," Kai shrieks. "IS HE OKAY? IS HE—IS HE ON DRUGS?"

Beomgyu collapses onto his bed, arm flung over his face like a tragic drama heroine. "I hate both of you."

"Joke's on you," Taehyun says calmly. "The internet loves you now, Princess."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT," Beomgyu groans, peeking out from under his elbow—
—and freezes when his screen flashes again.

99+ new followers.
@beomnote: 101,003 followers.

He screams into the pillow this time. Louder.

The phone hasn't stopped vibrating since Kai hung up. Every time Beomgyu thinks it's over, a new wave of notifications smashes through like an aftershock.

"Make it stop," he mumbles into his pillow. "Make the demons stop."

Taehyun, sitting cross-legged on his chair like a meditating cat, scrolls lazily through his own phone. "Oh no," he says, voice annoyingly calm. "The demons are trending."

Beomgyu bolts upright. "WHAT?!"

"Relax." Taehyun gestures at the screen without looking up. "You're not trending on Twitter. Yet."

"Yet?!"

Instead of answering, Taehyun spins his phone toward him. On the screen: @beatline_academy, the official dance crew page. A thumbnail of glossy sneakers and sunlit pavement. And there, blurry but unmistakable in the background, is him.

Beomgyu stares. The bench. The hoodie. The guitar case gleaming at his side like evidence in a murder trial. His low bun catching the light like God personally staged it.

"...No," he whispers. "No, no, no, no—"

Taehyun grins like the devil. "Yes."

Beomgyu lunges, snatching the phone. He taps the video, and there it is: the crew tearing through choreography like a dance apocalypse. And behind them, completely oblivious, sits Beomgyu—scribbling in his notebook like a brooding indie protagonist. Two seconds in, he absentmindedly pushes a strand of hair back from his face.

The comments? Absolute anarchy.

"ok but WHO is the guy on the bench??"
"the guitar bag. the low bun. i can't breathe."
"he looks like a disney prince who writes breakup songs."
"petition to rename this account @benchline_academy."
"if confidence was a person it's him, sitting there like he owns sunlight."

Beomgyu scrolls further, jaw dropping as the like count rockets past 500k.

And then he sees it.

Top comment – 38k likes.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Guitar Prince."

Beomgyu slaps a hand over his mouth. "What the actual—Guitar WHAT?!"

Taehyun bites back a laugh, leaning forward. "Prince fits. You've got that whole tragic-romantic thing going. All you need is a horse and a trauma backstory—oh wait."

"Shut UP!" Beomgyu yells, hurling a cushion at him. Taehyun dodges easily, still smirking.

"Oh, this one's even better," Taehyun says, scrolling with evil delight. "Someone made an edit."