Syncopation | Yeongyu TXT

11

He stares at the two unread lines glowing on his screen like neon knives.

so you're in a band now? cute.
hope your strings don't snap when the spotlight hits 😉

His jaw clenches so hard it could cut diamonds.
Of course. Of course the hip-thrust messiah couldn't just sit back and mind his perfectly symmetrical business.

Beomgyu tosses his phone on the bed. Paces the dorm twice. Picks it back up like a man opening a cursed book.

Fine. He wants a fight? He'll get a fight.

@beomnote:
you're obsessed. seek help.

(Delivered. Read. Instantly.)

The typing bubble appears like a middle finger.

@yawnjun:
nah. just entertained.

@beomnote:
glad my misery is prime time for you.

@yawnjun:
you said it, not me.
anyway, congrats on the band launch.
cute name. syncope?
what is that, a medical condition?

@beomnote:
google it, genius.

@yawnjun:
already did.
"temporary loss of consciousness."
fitting.
you do look like you'd faint under stage lights.

Beomgyu chokes on air. His thumbs hit the keyboard like a shotgun blast.

@beomnote:
bold talk for someone whose entire career is hip thrusting to the same 8 counts.

(Read. Beat. Then—)

@yawnjun:
wow.
you've been watching me?

Beomgyu freezes. Heat floods his ears.
Delete? No. That would be surrender.

@beomnote:
i watch good choreography. accidentally saw yours. don't flatter yourself.

@yawnjun:
too late. flattered.
btw. you didn't answer my question earlier.

@beomnote:
what question.

@yawnjun:
what's your deal?
you hate the spotlight so bad...
but you didn't make your account private.
you didn't delete the video.
and now you're front and center in a band photo.

Beomgyu's stomach knots. His fingers hover, cold and clammy.

@yawnjun:
maybe you like being seen.
even if you don't admit it.

The words sit there like a blade, bright and quiet.
Beomgyu exhales hard, shoving a hand through his hair like he can shake them loose. He types before his brain catches up.

@beomnote:
you talk like you know me. you don't.

@yawnjun:
yet.

Beomgyu slams the phone face-down on the bed so hard Taehyun looks up from his laptop.

"What did the screen do to you?"

"Nothing," Beomgyu snaps, diving under the blanket like a scandalized Victorian maiden.

Taehyun quirks a brow, watching the lump of blanket that is his best friend vibrate with rage.
"You're DMing him, aren't you?"

"No."

"Yes."

"NO—"

Taehyun snorts. "Wow. From viral cryptid to secret pen pal. Character development."