Chapter Text
The shouts were deafening, even from backstage.
Oikawa adjusted his earpiece while humming the familiar melody of their biggest hit, a song he was sure was expected of them.
“We’re going out in five,” Iwaizumi called, adjusting the strap of his bass guitar to fit snugly on his shoulders. “Make sure you’re all ready.”
“I’m always ready, Iwa-chan,” he said with a charming smile and a peace sign, the kind that his fans always raved about.
Immune, his best friend simply ignored the gesture. “Yeah, but Hinata isn’t.”
He turned his head towards the boy in question, who currently looked as though he was ready to vomit, clutching his drumsticks tight in closed fists. Despite the months of them performing live for crowds as big as the one awaiting their appearance, the redhead seemed to never let go of his stage fright.
He frowned at that. They didn’t have the time.
Reading the room, Sugawara piped warmly with a dismissive wave of a hand, “I got it. No worries.”
And just like that, things fall into place.
He smiled at his band, watching fondly at their pre-show preparations, proud of everything they’ve accomplished in the short amount of time they’ve risen to fame. Despite the little idiosyncrasies, he knew he wouldn’t want anyone else on his side when they walked onto the stage, bounding with nothing but raw energy to hype up the thousands of people who came to watch them play.
He wouldn’t ever replace Hinata on the drums, Sugawara on the piano, Iwaizumi on the bass, Kyoutani on the guitar—
His eyebrows creased at the reminder of their missing guitarist.
“Where is Mad Dog-chan, by the way?” he asked their ever-reliable bassist. “Don’t tell me he’s arriving late again. I know he’s got this whole image of unpredictability, but he really needs to learn how to stick to schedule!”
“What? You don’t know either?” was the answer he got back.
The blood drains from his face. If anyone would know, it should’ve been Iwaizumi. “You can’t joke, Iwa-chan. This is an important gig.”
“I’m not. I thought he’d talk to you.”
He groans, dramatic as ever, before then picking up his own guitar.
“Shrimpy!” he called out.
“Y-Yes?” the short boy replied, too nervous to whine about the nickname.
“Any clue on where our lead guitarist is?”
“Eh, Kyoutani-san?” he answers more enthusiastically, the conversation a distraction from his anxiety. “Sorry, Grand King. I don’t.”
“How about you, Koushi-chan?”
The pianist shrugs. “I have no idea.”
He groans again, this time louder. “Ugh! This is the worst.”
“We prepared an alternate version of our setlist for this very reason, remember?” Sugawara chimed in. “We’ll be fine.”
“We can’t always play that version! We’re not reaching our full potential.”
The pianist sighed then, flexing his fingers and stretching his arms. He knew what Oikawa was trying to convey about a certain blonde bandmate, but it just wasn’t the time to talk about it. There was enough pressure on everyone’s shoulders to perform well tonight. They could settle their issues tomorrow.
Gladly enough, Iwaizumi understood. “One minute, Oikawa. There’s no time to think of that now.”
All he gave was a pout in response, before slinging his guitar strap over his shoulders, doing one final round of vocal warm-ups, and putting on his charm.
He watched as his members stepped out one by one, listened as the screaming intensified to degrees he didn’t think was possible, felt the thrum of their starting beats that pumped up the crowd. He waited for the note that signaled his cue to step out, pressed his earpiece closer to ensure he didn't miss it, stepped towards the exit in quiet anticipation.
Sure enough, there it was, and he was running to the stage, relishing in the voices that chanted his name.
When he arrives at the center, standing right in front of the microphone, he decides to make eye contact with the camera broadcasting his face on the two large screens and wink. It drives the fans wild.
Soon, he’s singing their first song’s starting lines, dedicated audience members singing along with him, and the excitement and adrenaline lasts throughout the duration of the long night.
They lounge around the dressing room, wiping off the sweat from their brows, the concert rush having not once faded from their veins.
And while Hinata bounds with endless energy, obnoxiously loud voice ringing around the room, Oikawa was uncharacteristically silent, brows furrowed in irritation as he stared at his phone.
“When Oikawa-san’s guitar went dun dun dunun dun along with Iwaizumi-san,” the boy excitedly spoke, still high from the success of their performance, playing air guitar as he mimicked the riffs with his voice, “I was going crash boom crash boom. It was so epic! And when you, Suga-san, played niwniw niw niwniw niw—”
“Hinata, calm down!” Sugawara cut in with a laugh. “We get it. We played an amazing performance. Right, Oikawa?”
There was no reply.
“Oikawa?” the grey-haired boy tried again, poking the brunette’s cheek as he did so.
The action was enough to catch his attention. “Huh? What?”
He frowned at that, noting the unnatural response. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, you’re abnormally silent, Trashykawa,” came Iwaizumi’s supporting remark. “What gives?”
He doesn’t know how to break the news, so instead, he shows them his phone, shoving the screen towards their line of sight.
It was a simple text from their absent guitarist sent hours ago, most likely during their gig. The sentence might’ve been so extremely short, but it sent the message across perfectly well anyway.
Mad Dog-chan ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ [9:57 PM]
I’m quitting.
Sugawara and Iwaizumi had nothing to say to that.
“Come on guys, what’s with the gloomy silence?” the youngest member with endless high spirits exclaimed at the silence, wrapping his arms around the two others until he could butt his head in between theirs to see what the fuss was all about.
Oikawa watches the bubbly joy drain from that annoying face. It makes him frown.
“Mad Dog’s leaving?” he mumbled quietly in disbelief. “But… why?”
“Not like it matters,” the brunette coldly replied. “This just makes it easier for us to replace him.”
“No need to be so heartless,” Iwaizumi barked, moving away from their semi-huddle to sit down. “Kyoutani was still our bandmate.”
“He’s flaky as hell! He was gonna get kicked off anyway with that lack of care.”
Sugawara’s eyes widened at that then, muttering an incredulous “Oikawa!”
The singer stood from his place, placing a hand on his hip. “Hey now, don’t deny it. You all know I’m speaking the truth.”
When he receives no reaction from the three, he takes it as their silent agreement.
“I guess it’s settled then,” he remarks with a smug smile before clapping his hands together to add emphasis to the moment. “Soaring Glory needs a new member.”
Iwaizumi breaks his dramatic antics immediately, remarking with a sigh, “I forget just how stupidly pretentious our band name is.”
“Oh, shut up. You know you love it, Iwa-chan!”