In retrospect, Yoongi wasn't sure what made him start getting into it.
They had moved to the States, not that he wanted to. He missed speaking the native language - his English was improving, but at a much slower rate than, say, his younger brothers' was, which was frustrating - he missed the easy ability to blend in - everyone had been Korean in Korea, not here - he missed his friends, the music scene, the familiar places and any kind of retreat. And he felt as if he was drowning in feelings that made it hard to breathe, although he knew that had been true before too. It had just been a little easier to distract himself.
He didn't really get to play basketball here, having no friends and being short and Korean didn't lend itself to get into it, unless he wanted to draw a lot of attention, which he didn't. He didn't know anyone in the rap scene either, if there even was one. Asking random guys in his strongly accented English was not something he felt like doing and while he had tried some internet searches, it wasn't as if his mother would let him out by himself for any other reason than school, since she basically thought that America was the devil's playground.
It meant that Yoongi was trapped inside the house most of the day, but it also meant that they did have a house. There was a basement and, after some arguing, he ended up with his bedroom there. It was somewhere to hide and it wasn't as if he'd ever been that fond of the sun. He had to fix things up a little, but he didn't mind working with his hands. It was for Namjoon's sake that he recorded something again finally, after a long time that he had feelings in his heart and thoughts in his head but no way of expressing them in any other way than screaming into pillows and crying curled up in bed late at night. Recording was easy enough, but then it got copyright claimed by YouTube for one sample that he'd used and it annoyed him out of trying again for a while. One night though, he ended up streaming instead, once more convinced by Namjoon, and that was the most productive time he had had since getting here.
Of course, Namjoon led a busy life and he didn't have much time, while Yoongi felt he had nothing but time - probably because he barely slept. So he kept streaming, even with no one to watch. Only people started watching, a handful at first, people he knew back in Korea, a couple others, one time a girl decided that he looked like an idol and a screenshot made its way into that fandom, resulting in a rapid increase in viewership. It continued from there, steady upwards trend. Yoongi wasn't sure what to make of it, so he just kept doing his thing.
Usually his thing was to produce a song and talk about it as he did so, answering some of the questions in the chat. Sometimes he rapped and, when he really felt it, he let viewers challenge him to a rap battle. Something that had started mainly with Namjoon, when they won decided by viewer votes and the results tended to be 50/50, but now it was often just random viewers, with generally middling results and easily won battles. It wasn't like the underground scene, but it was something. Yoongi changed his name from Gloss to Agust D, because the former sounded stupid now that his English was better and because he missed Daegu and everything there.
He wasn't quite out of that spiral of depression yet, so sometimes he couldn't force himself to be creative. Instead he would just do the things parts of his audience wanted him to do, like try out face masks and do mukbang, which seemed like an especially stupid concept, so he was pretty sure he did the worst mukbang possible, but his fans - it was weird to think of himself as having those, but the viewer count was climbing and what else could he call them - seemed to enjoy it. Whatever they enjoyed about his personality, he didn't get it. Maybe it was more fun to watch than it was to live with it.
Still, streaming did give him something. A routine, an outlet, something to focus energy on, even on days when he felt as if he didn't have any.
He did it that day, same as any day, playing a track he'd produced years ago as he read the chat, randomly replying to some people. "No, sweet_kristy, not bored. Just tired."
With a shrug, he shook his head. "I'm not going to bed yet. It's not that kind of tired anyway."
Why had this chat started to sound like his mother? "What is everyone up to? You're studying, radiophobia? Ah. You should turn this off and focus, I'm not required viewing." He hummed, watching the screen as the chat scrolled by. "Working out? Sounds tedious, music_viking. Cool name, by the way."
no subject
They had moved to the States, not that he wanted to. He missed speaking the native language - his English was improving, but at a much slower rate than, say, his younger brothers' was, which was frustrating - he missed the easy ability to blend in - everyone had been Korean in Korea, not here - he missed his friends, the music scene, the familiar places and any kind of retreat. And he felt as if he was drowning in feelings that made it hard to breathe, although he knew that had been true before too. It had just been a little easier to distract himself.
He didn't really get to play basketball here, having no friends and being short and Korean didn't lend itself to get into it, unless he wanted to draw a lot of attention, which he didn't. He didn't know anyone in the rap scene either, if there even was one. Asking random guys in his strongly accented English was not something he felt like doing and while he had tried some internet searches, it wasn't as if his mother would let him out by himself for any other reason than school, since she basically thought that America was the devil's playground.
It meant that Yoongi was trapped inside the house most of the day, but it also meant that they did have a house. There was a basement and, after some arguing, he ended up with his bedroom there. It was somewhere to hide and it wasn't as if he'd ever been that fond of the sun. He had to fix things up a little, but he didn't mind working with his hands. It was for Namjoon's sake that he recorded something again finally, after a long time that he had feelings in his heart and thoughts in his head but no way of expressing them in any other way than screaming into pillows and crying curled up in bed late at night. Recording was easy enough, but then it got copyright claimed by YouTube for one sample that he'd used and it annoyed him out of trying again for a while. One night though, he ended up streaming instead, once more convinced by Namjoon, and that was the most productive time he had had since getting here.
Of course, Namjoon led a busy life and he didn't have much time, while Yoongi felt he had nothing but time - probably because he barely slept. So he kept streaming, even with no one to watch. Only people started watching, a handful at first, people he knew back in Korea, a couple others, one time a girl decided that he looked like an idol and a screenshot made its way into that fandom, resulting in a rapid increase in viewership. It continued from there, steady upwards trend. Yoongi wasn't sure what to make of it, so he just kept doing his thing.
Usually his thing was to produce a song and talk about it as he did so, answering some of the questions in the chat. Sometimes he rapped and, when he really felt it, he let viewers challenge him to a rap battle. Something that had started mainly with Namjoon, when they won decided by viewer votes and the results tended to be 50/50, but now it was often just random viewers, with generally middling results and easily won battles. It wasn't like the underground scene, but it was something. Yoongi changed his name from Gloss to Agust D, because the former sounded stupid now that his English was better and because he missed Daegu and everything there.
He wasn't quite out of that spiral of depression yet, so sometimes he couldn't force himself to be creative. Instead he would just do the things parts of his audience wanted him to do, like try out face masks and do mukbang, which seemed like an especially stupid concept, so he was pretty sure he did the worst mukbang possible, but his fans - it was weird to think of himself as having those, but the viewer count was climbing and what else could he call them - seemed to enjoy it. Whatever they enjoyed about his personality, he didn't get it. Maybe it was more fun to watch than it was to live with it.
Still, streaming did give him something. A routine, an outlet, something to focus energy on, even on days when he felt as if he didn't have any.
He did it that day, same as any day, playing a track he'd produced years ago as he read the chat, randomly replying to some people. "No, sweet_kristy, not bored. Just tired."
With a shrug, he shook his head. "I'm not going to bed yet. It's not that kind of tired anyway."
Why had this chat started to sound like his mother? "What is everyone up to? You're studying, radiophobia? Ah. You should turn this off and focus, I'm not required viewing." He hummed, watching the screen as the chat scrolled by. "Working out? Sounds tedious, music_viking. Cool name, by the way."