By the time Do-hyun's car hissed to a halt in front of his house, he was already running late.
But then he saw him.
Jaemin was waiting at the corner, bright and alert against the subdued city street. He was carrying Do-hyun's violin case over one shoulder, waving at him with a wide, happy smile that wiped away the exhaustion of the morning's events.
Even though he could have sat in the car and waited, Do-hyun killed the engine and was out in a flash, stepping towards him. He watched Jaemin rush up to him, his face flushed with the kind of healthy color that spoke of good sleep, security and excitement. The sun caught in his hair, making it glow like fire on honey in the radiant way Do-hyun loved.
"You're late, Concertmaster," Jaemin teased, his amber eyes sparkling bright in the sunlight. "What happened? Did my parents keep you hostage?"
Do-hyun didn't answer, only pulled Jaemin into a tight hug, burying his face in the soft curls and filling his lungs with Jaemin's sweet, vibrant scent of contentment and cherry blossoms. The tension that had been coiled around him all morning finally released.
Surprised, Jaemin returned the hug, patting his mate's shoulder with a touch of concern. "Are you okay? Did Abeoji make nasty comments about you again, or musicians, or alphas in general?" Pat, pat. "Don't let my grumpy old man get to you, okay?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle," Do-hyun mumbled into his shoulder, tightening his grip. "And anyway, I just was nasty right back at him."
Jaemin startled back slightly. "What?"
"Nothing," Do-hyun murmured, immediately nuzzling back in closer. After a beat, he mumbled, "You know you're precious to me, don't you, Seo Jaemin?"
The laughter that fell from Jaemin's lips was to his ears the purest sound. "You're precious to me too, jagi."
He waited for Do-hyun to release him, then gently took his hand, tugging him back towards the car.
"Come on, we can't be too late. We need to make the announcement, so we can start preparing at once."
…
The rehearsal hall was buzzing with anticipation, but when Jaemin finally stepped up to the podium, the mood quieted.
"As you all know," Jaemin began, his voice ringing with determined confidence, "the SPS holds performances year-round, but our major concerts usually anchor the Spring and Summer seasons, beginning in either mid-May or early June. We were initially targeting a late May launch.
"However, we have some bad news: all of our usual venues have been mysteriously booked out from the beginning of May through August."
A chorus of shock exploded through the room.
"Booked out? All of them?? How???" Han Chaewon exclaimed, disbelief etched on her face.
Face pale, Kim Seojun wrung his hands. "This is definitely the work of that 'pheromonal ploy' crowd, isn't it? Why the hell do they have it in for us like this, don't they have anything better to do with their lives??"
"And with their money??" Jung Eunji added shrilly.
Yoon Hyeonwoo spat, "The cowards! They can't attack us with music, so they attack us with calendar dates and concert halls!"
"HYEON. WOO. AJU. SSI! Kindly keep your saliva to yourself!!" Han Chaewon rebuked in disgust, completely losing sight of the main issue in the face of bad hygiene.
The orchestra's despair was palpable, their hope draining away with each protest. Jaemin's gaze met Do-hyun's amid the rising furore, and the concertmaster immediately stepped forward, his figure solid and reassuring beside his conductor.
"They may have booked off most of the big performance venues," he began, and the cacophony immediately died to a hush, "but they missed some of the smaller stages. We've managed to secure the Chamber Music Theatre. Now, I know, I know," his voice rose firmly to interrupt the chorus of protests that threatened to rise again, "I know it's small, and old, but it is also the only feasible option available to us right now."
The musicians subsided, not fully satisfied but willing to comply. Unfortunately, that was not the end of the bad news.
"However, the terms of our booking are such that we will have to move our season early."
Jaemin nodded, his smile already turning apologetic. "The SPS will start our season in the last week of April."
The second shock wave hit the orchestra.
"WHAT?!" Jung Eunji shrilled, then seemed to go limp with shock, almost dropping her bow. "That's the end of this month! In like, a WEEK!!"
"Two weeks, but there goes our summer break," Hwan Se-jin sighed heavily in resignation, running a hand through his hair. "Nobody's going to be prepared for us."
"And that's exactly why we'll take it," Jaemin cut in, his voice firm, refusing to let the chaos take root. He swept his gaze over the assembly, determination radiating from his slim figure. "Whoever is doing this wants us to throw us off, to get us to fold, but we're going to show them that no matter what obstacles they throw in our way, it's just not going to work.
"Yes, starting in two weeks is a massive challenge." His eyes flashed with fierce resolve. "But all of you are not the same musicians that you were at the beginning of this year. You're united now. You've learned to play as one. And," he added, "I didn't say that we were going to start from scratch. We've practised several pieces already while preparing for the Gala, and have covered even more since; we just need to brush them up a bit, make sure they're perfect, and we'll be ready to go."
The logic was undeniable; the challenge was electrifying. Hope sparked in the musicians' eyes, fueled by the conviction of their conductor and concertmaster. A cheer, tentative at first, then robust, swelled through the hall, an undivided front forged in the face of sabotage as the orchestra rallied around their defiant, determined conductor.
But their camaraderie was violently interrupted by a slow, sharp clap, followed by another, then another, echoing from just inside the main doors and cutting through their unified sound.
"What a rousing speech, Conductor Seo," a deep voice drawled, laced with mocking admiration. "I expected nothing less from you than to think up such a brilliant and unconventional solution to your little problem. You truly do deserve all the applause."
Do-hyun saw Jaemin's face drain white a split second before the bitter scent of black tea and bergamot slammed into him. Hackles rising, he whipped towards the doors, but the tall, dark figure was already making his way casually into the hall.
It was Choi Seungcheol, in the flesh.