Where I Belong (WangXian Modern AU)

01

There's this thing about the stage.

The slight burn under the eyes as the spotlights flash on my face, the familiar sting from the guitar strings on fingers, the bass that literally shakes me to the core, the adrenaline rush, and the cheer of the crowd . . . Well, maybe it's a bunch of things, but it feels like I'm living my life just to feel this for an hour every week.

I guess it's universal. Because the only time I see Wen Ning looking this alive is when he kicks into our bass-electric duet. It's not a big crowd, neither is it a big stage, so Xingchen has to step aside from his microphone to give us space to perform. It's only the club which Qing owned, and we're playing here as a favor. But this is good enough. The terrific thing called dreams do exist in my head; but for now, this is good enough.

The crowd applauses as we end our final song and we step down handing the stage over to the DJ. That's how long it takes for Song Lan to glue his mouth to Xingchen, still clutching the drumsticks in one hand, pulling him close with the other. "Geez, you two are disgusting." I groan, freeing myself from the strap of my guitar.

"Shut up, Xian," Xingchen mumbles, as the four of us stroll into the dressing room. My name is Wei Wuxian. But by the end of my freshman year in college, it was cut down to Xian.

"You can't blame us." Song leans on the wall next to the door, watching us pack up. "It's your fault that we're together."

I squint. "I only took you in for the band." I unzip the cover of my guitar and put it in.

"And Xingchen came as a package deal." Song completes.

"As I can see," I snort. But honestly, seeing them together had made me believe in something I thought didn't exist.

I pull out my phone from my pocket. It's 12:43 and the screen showed eight missed calls from Jiang Cheng. Great, he's going to eat me alive. Stuffing the phone back, I pick up my cover in a rush mumbling "I've gotta go."

Xingchen closes and locks the black box which was filled with cables and mics saying, "Your brother is a monster."

"I don't disagree." I pick the black cover. "I'm off. Tell Qing that I left."

"See you on Monday." I hear Xingchen yell as I run out of the back door.

It's past midnight when I reach home, which right now is an apartment I shared with my two siblings. Shijie is usually asleep at this time and I'm hoping that Cheng too has slept, as I enter the passcode. I open the door to find the lights of the living room turned on; the odds are not in my favor. Well, for a fact they never are.

"What the hell were you doing? Do you know what time it is?" I hear Cheng's voice boom when I take off my shoes. He's tucked up on the sofa, with a textbook open on his lap, glaring at me through his reading glasses.

"Yeah, yeah, we had to play a bit longer than usual." I flop onto the sofa, leaning the guitar between my legs. "Qing says that there's a producer interested in us frequenting there."