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The news broke on Saturday night.
Dmitri was staying up late in the practice room, fingers running up and down the piano. He didn’t have new melodies in his mind yet, just running through the notes he already had.
“Ding!”
And he was just getting to the good part too. Irritated, Dmitri grabbed his phone. Hadn’t he mute it before starting?
He checked to make sure it was muted, and set it on the chair far away from the piano before continuing.
Just as he was starting to get some new ideas, the phone pinged him again.
What!
He hurriedly jotted down the notes in his head on the staff paper, before reaching for the phone.
Unlocked, he could now see it was a message from Johann Sebastian. No wonder, he didn’t mute the chat he had with the other four guys.
“Guys.”
“Check your twitter.”
He sighed. What did Wolfgang do this time?
“I’m serious.”
That was ominous. When Johann Sebastian said he was being serious, something big happened.
He opened Twitter.
Tweet after tweet flooded his homepage, all mentioning their group. Taking a deep breath so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed, he stopped scrolling at a random one to read it.
An accusation. At Wolfgang. Paganini, the artist they worked with on their debut, was involved too.
After reading ten or so of them, going to Youtube, and then switching to Instagram, he started to piece the whole ordeal together. Paganini was pissed at what seemed to be a K-pop group for “sampling only two bars” (and rightly so, in Dmitri’s not so humble opinion), made a diss track in return using his La Campanella, Wolfgang was dancing around in the background of the MV (and by dancing, Dmitri meant convulsing), and the other group’s fans were pissed in return.
It was childish, silly and weirdly good. In other words, Wolfgang as per usual.
Unfortunately, Bang YG didn’t think so.
“You need to release a statement,” he said to the remaining four members of B2TSM in an emergency meeting in his usual no-nonsense tone. “PR already has it written. All you need to do is go in front of the camera, and read it.”
And Dmitri understood that. He really did. Wolfgang and Paganini picked a fight with one of the most famous K-pop groups, with an enormous fangroup backing them up and an even more powerful company over them. This could very well mean career suicide for them. If the rest of them didn’t cut ties as soon as possible, the storm could engulf them as well and drag them down with the duo. It would be a huge loss in assets for Bang YG.
Not to mention, it would mean Dmitri had to go back home. Back to his caged, only half-alive life under his family. After his taste of freedom under the band, Dmitri wasn’t sure if he could survive his family anymore.
But this wasn’t about him, he reminded himself. Wolfgang might have made a mistake, but he was being targeted with death threats and downright bigoted insults. He wasn’t in the wrong here. Cutting ties with him feels immoral.
He looked at the other three men, searching for any hints of disagreement in their eyes. Johann Sebastian was signing furiously with Ludwig, the latter visibly fuming like an overboiled kettle about to explode. Pyotr, jaws clenched, had a newfound interest in his shoes.
They knew it was wrong too.
“No.”
“Excuse me?” Bang YG looked up at him, deceptively calm. The others shot up their heads, no doubt shocked at Dmitri of all people saying no to Bang YG.
“I said, no, sir. I will not endorse that statement.”
Bang YG peered at his face, and sighed, annoyed. “It was for the good of everyone else, Dmitri.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Dmitri nodded at him, “I am an artist. And I would never betray my artistic integrity.”
“Dmitri is right,” Johann Sebastian spoke up. “Wolfgang is being unfairly targeted right now. No matter what he did, he and Herr Paganini are the victims in the question.”
“We will not leave him behind,” Ludwig says slowly.
Bang YG blinked, no doubt reminded of the conversation between him and Dmitri before the then-teengaer was convinced to join the five-man group.
“And what would I get out of this, Sir?”
“Freedom, Mr Shostakovich. Freedom to create as a musician, freedom to hold to your integrity as an artist.”
Not that the others knew of this. Next to Dmitri, Pyotr had fire in his eyes, and the Russian man was a whole head taller than Bang YG.
It was a lost battle.
“Fine. Do as you wish. But do not come crawling to me after your names are dragged through the mud.”
And with that, Bang YG left the meeting room, coat fluttering behind him as his personal assistant scrambled with his pile of files to follow him.
Dmitri exhaled. The adrenaline was leaving him, and he felt drained. He spent the whole night prowling online, reporting tweets, trying (and failing) to contact Wolfgang and warn him of the shitshow around him, and drawing up plan after plan to deal with it.
More than that, he felt… angry. How dare those toxic fans target Wolfgang and Paganini with their abusive insults and slurs and death threats! How dare they blame two musicians simply for pointing out flaws in their own idols’ music! How dare Bang YG even suggested Wolfgang was at fault here, when he was being ganged on right now!
… How could he even consider the benefits of cutting ties with Wolfgang for a second? It was betrayal of the worst kind. Wolfgang was annoying and loud and abrasive, sure, but he was also unbelievably talented in his own rights, and very open-minded too. He was one of them.
He didn’t deserve any of this. Neither he nor Paganini did.
Dmitri desperately wanted to hit something, preferably the piano. Who cares if it sounded nice, messy dissonant chords had always suited him better.
“That was… amazing, Dmitri.”
Jolted out of his thoughts, he looked aside, and saw Pyotr giving him a small smile, eyes shining.
“You did well,” Johann Sebastian walked over and patted him on his back, a rare smile on his face. Ludwig signed a thank you at him from where he sat, followed by a suggestion for Bang YG to engage in inappropriate activities with his mother.
Dmitri snickered, but held back a comment about Bang YG being more likely to be involved with his assistant instead; Edward was perfectly nice to him and didn’t deserve any rumors.
“So, what to do now with Wolfgang?” Ludwig whispered, looking down the hallway to make sure Bang YG is nowhere near them.
“Our statement, of course.” Johann Sebastian took lead, as usual, taking out a notepad from his coat and started scribbling down. “We need to show that we do not tolerate bullying towards any one of us.”
Ludwig gestured at Johann Sebastian, and took the pen to write something at the margin, letters lopsided.
“Anything you want to add, Pyotr?” Ludwig tilted his head towards the man in question.
Pyotr looked at them one by one, as if in disbelief that he was asked to add to the list of talking points, before nudging at Dmitri with his elbow. “I like the bit about artistic integrity. The things you said to Bang YG.”
Johann Sebastian nodded, and wrote it down, taking time to underline it twice, the pen nearly tearing the paper with his strength.
“You should say it, Dmitri,” Pyotr stared at him, his face indescribable. “It was your idea.”
Dmitri turned away from his watery puppy dog eyes (really, it was impossible to say no to Pyotr when he looked at anyone like that, and chert poberi*, was he even aware of it?), only to meet Johann Sebastian’s firm gaze.
“You deserve this, Dmitri,” the oldest member said softly.
“I can help you with some of it if you want to!” Ludwig begged him, fingers flying wildly in what was presumably words of encouragement.
The thought of speaking on camera for everyone to see was terrifying. Forget butterflies, Dmitri felt like there was a horde of hornets buzzing around in his stomach. But with the other three by his side, he felt like nothing could go wrong. Johann Sebastian would always be there to pick him up, Ludwig with his loud cheering, and Pyotr’s private smiles waiting for him. And of course, Wolfgang’s tackles (or “hugs”, as he called them) that can knock the air out of his lungs.
Dmitri sighed. Sometimes he hated how persuasive the three of them were, especially Pyotr. “Alright, let’s do this.
“Let’s save our friends.”