The crowd roared as, on stage, Bass Drop did an especially impressive move—Yoongi assumed. Even after watching Hoseok's dancers perform for years, he knew very little about what was actually impressive or not. He knew what he liked, what he thought looked cool, but that didn't always equate.

Next to him, Jinyoung was jumping in time to the beat, cheering and bobbing with the best of them, letting out a whoop as most of the dancers dropped to the floor, leaving only Jimin—Jinyoung's brother—standing, executing a few moves that had some girls to Yoongi's left shrieking like they were being murdered. Then Jimin stepped back and Hoseok took center stage to end the performance. Yoongi almost drowned the girls out with his cheers when the stage went dark.

After a few moments, another group took the stage, and while Yoongi nodded along to the beat and Jinyoung watched with critical eyes, they weren't paying nearly as close attention.

So Jinyoung apparently didn't mind talking.

"Heard you screaming for Hobi up there," he said with a smirk.

Yoongi was most certainly not blushing at the comment.

"What's it to you?" he asked shortly, reminding himself again that he didn't really know Jinyoung, so it didn't matter if he was a little rude. Really, Jinyoung was Jaebum's friend, Jaebum was Hobi's friend, and Hobi was Yoongi's…friend. Jinyoung was a friend of a friend of a…friend.

Jinyoung shrugged, but his eyes were still on Yoongi.

"You look like you're burning holes in Yoongi's head," Namjoon said, coming up on Yoongi's other side.

"Yoongi's refusing to admit he was screaming for Hobi," Jinyoung said with a shrug. Then his eyes narrowed. "Where are the kids, Namjoon?"

Namjoon froze, looking around. "Oh no."

Yoongi swore. "Namjoon," he said sharply, you stay here in case they come here looking for us. Jinyoung—"

"I'll look for Youngjae, you find Tae." Jinyoung turned and strode off into the gyrating crowd, Yoongi following a bit more slowly. Jinyoung's job would be easy; Youngjae, getting separated from Namjoon, would almost certainly either stay by the bar or find a quiet corner to hide in. Tae, on the other hand…

Yoongi groaned. Tae would find where the party was loudest, wildest, and most un-Yoongi-est and plant himself right in the middle.

Keeping up a steady stream of profanity, Yoongi struggled through the crowd. They were playing some sort of poppy hip hop now and the entire crowd was yelling along. Suddenly, he heard a deep, familiar voice bellowing the vocal part, and he began to shove through the crowd towards the voice with renewed vigor, thanking whatever god might exist when he saw Tae's orange-streaked (for the concert only, his parents would never had let him permanently die his hair) head of hair. Not bothering to try and yell over all the noise, he reached up and grabbed one of the younger boy's ears, yanking him along, away from all his new "friends" and back to where they'd left Namjoon.

"What were you thinking?" Namjoon fumed when he saw his younger brother.

"I just wanted to ask the bartender about his tattoo," Tae said, whining a little. "And then you were gone and Youngjae was gone and I just thought I'd come find you, but then they put this song on and you know how much I love it and then these other people were singing along too, so I—"

"Okay, okay, it's fine," Namjoon said, apparently giving up on making Tae see the error of his ways. "Just…stick closer to me next time, okay?"

Tae bobbed his head, eyes wide and sincere—until he was distracted and started jumping and pointing. "Jiminie! Chim Chim! Hobi! Jaebummie!"

Yoongi turned back to the stage, where Jimin, Hobi, Jaebum, and a few other of the older students were standing, heads down, on the dimly-lit stage. Taemin, the owner of the dance studio, stepped forward and took the mic from a stage hand.

"Thanks for coming tonight," he began. "Before our last performance of the evening, I'd like to thank everyone who's worked so hard to make this studio possible—primarily the dancers you see up here with me. Eight years ago, having a studio like this was just a pipe dream for me and my four idiot friends, one of whom, unfortunately couldn't be here today," he motioned to his friends, whose names Yoongi couldn't remember—one of them went by the stage name Key when he was rapping, and the one who "couldn't be there," Yoongi knew, was Jonghyun, who'd died only a few months after the studio opened—"and then JB, Hobi, and our little Chim Chim here started dancing with us, and now we've become the studio you see today. So the seven of us, as the founding members, have put together a dance to show our appreciation for you in the audience—without you, we'd just be a bunch of kids running around a stage." He bowed as the crowd cheered and the lights dimmed again for a moment before the speakers started to spit out a beat, and the dancers began to move.

Yoongi watched them, his stomach doing something strange each time Hoseok did something especially striking—so every few beats. And when the music ended and the seven dancers were kneeling on the stage—all holding one hand in a J-shape over their hearts—Yoongi was cheering again, watching as they got to their feet and bowed before leaving the stage, slapping each other on the back and talking excitedly.