Chapter Text
“You better run, run, runaway, runaway baby, before I put my spell on you!”
If you happen to find yourself wandering the dreary streets just outside downtown Los Angeles at night (which, really, is a very bad idea, all things considered), then you might be greeted by the whistle of the winds and the whispers of the oak-lined boulevards. If you continue down that avenue, the one with gravel and rocks along the side, you’ll begin to hear something else.
The mute roaring of teenagers beating their feet against concrete pavements. The sharp explosions of starting guns firing off into the starry sky. The slipping of worn-down wheels grating heavily down rocky pathways and dirt roads.
If you follow these sounds, eventually you’ll land on 31st Boulevard. It’s a rather quiet street (given what’s happening just below it) with poles filled with staples and torn newspaper ads. If you stand close enough to the shops that line the sidewalk, which will all be closed at this time of night, you’ll be able to feel a sort of thrumming running through your feet and up your spine. This is a sign that you’re close— close to the action.
You won’t have to search for much longer, now. Look for the sushi shop, the one with a flickering neon sign half falling off its hinges, and then directly to the right of it. I know what you’re thinking, now; this elevator looks rather old and much too rickety to be safe. Trust me, if it were going to break down, it would’ve happened by now.
Enter the elevator and press the button for the third floor. I know what it says, that it’s ‘Out of Order’, but it’s not really. When you step out, try not to make a fool of yourself. People can usually tell when you’re a newcomer, and sometimes they’ll give you a hard time for it.
If you’ve managed to make it this far, congrats! You’re officially in. Follow the crowds of teenagers and the smell of spray paint to the fences, and wait until you can hear the announcer speaking.
If you’re lucky, one of the ZB1 will be skating tonight. And if you’re really blessed, all eight of them will be. Now’s the moment where you turn your head to the skater next to you and start asking questions. The most common, of course, being “What’s ZB1?” Or, maybe, “Who’s in it?”
And maybe, just maybe, if you really know your shit, you’ll ask, “I thought there were supposed to be nine members?”
Well, if you’re as lucky as they say, soon you’ll see the skaters of ZB1 crashing down the rocks toward your very position.
In the lead will be one of two people:
SUNG HANBIN, the crowd’s favorite. He speaks with all the elegance of a nobleman, and his face suggests nothing different. You might recognize him, if you’re a high school student, as the poster-boy for perfection at WakeOne High School.
During the day he’s a dutiful son, a kind soul, a doting friend and an attentive student. But when night falls and the stars twinkle, Sung Hanbin is a rogue. He skates with the ruthlessness of a pro, his eyes never leave the course in front of him, and his smile never falters with the cheers of his fans.
Or, perhaps, on a rarer day, leading the pack will be ZHANG HAO. The natural-born prodigy, the genius skater who managed to dethrone Sung Hanbin single-handedly, the beautiful face and mind of a skater that thinks through his options.
There are whispers among the crowd every time the two meet in a match; nobody can really tell what’s between the two. Is it love? Lust? Fierce competition, or a bitter rivalry?
Before you have time to question it, both are gone in a flurry of wheels and screams. Following them are another two you might recognize from your school:
SHEN RICKY skates like he’s a model and these pathways are his runway. If you see him approaching, I’d warn you to plug your ears. The screams can be deafening when it comes to Ricky.
PARK GUNWOOK follows behind, wind whistling through his hair and face set in stone. Don’t let his physique fool you— or the way his eyes spit fire at any who cross his way. Gunwook is the most welcoming of any in the ZB1; he’s your best shot to get in, if you want to try your hand.
Most, of course, make the mistake of trying with the skaters who come next:
KIM TAERAE is the middle of his brothers. He skates with elegance and beauty, and he stares at the fans cheering his name more than the road ahead. It’s said his voice was gifted to him by the gods, for the deep tenure and vibrating hums can only be described as otherworldly.
KIM GYUVIN is the youngest of the Kims, and he follows behind, tugging at Taerae’s hair and trying to trip him up. You can spot him from a mile away, of course, given how insanely long his legs are and the way his body seems to acclimate to his skateboard.
KIM JIWOONG is the oldest— not just of his brothers, but of the ZB1 as a whole. He has a reputation as a serial flirt, though he never sticks to any one person long enough to build a relationship.
Coming last is HAN YUJIN. Really, you can never tell where he’ll be. At times, Yujin is leading the pack, only just behind Hanbin. Other times he stays to the middle, alternating between Gunwook and Taerae. He’s got wicked speed on his side, despite only just graduating middle school, and some say he’ll become even better than Hanbin or Zhang Hao if he’s given enough time.
As the night dims and the skaters pass the finish one by one, the crowds start to disperse and the hype dies down, giving way to the frigid breezes of nightfall. You might notice not many people take the route you took; there are many ways to access this place, but only so many know of them. Perhaps, if you come back again, you can begin to learn them as well.
In fact, I can almost guarantee you’ll be back. After all, this is Boys Planet, the underground skating competition known infamously among any who partake in the sport.
Come back tomorrow! Perhaps Gunwook will be skating then— or maybe Yujin, or all three of the Kim brothers.
Or maybe, and this is a very, very big maybe, the new Canadian transfer student at WakeOne High School will somehow manage to decimate the competition despite never having skated before in his life.
But that would never happen, right?
Right?