he adjusts his phone once, then twice. then yejun adjusts his own position. is he centered in the frame? is it tilted? does he just look weird? he's stared at himself for so long already, procrastinating hitting record, that he's not sure he even recognizes his own face anymore. it's like saying the same word over and over and over again until it loses all meaning he's not sure how to relax his nerves but there's also no putting this off any further. yejun takes a deep breath, and pushes the button.
"hello, my name is hwang yejun," he introduces himself, bowing respectfully to his camera and feeling awkward for it. it's not a person after all, even though he's trying to envision the human being who will be watching back this recording later. "and... i'm submitting for the dreamwave auditions."
DREAM COMPANY & SECOND DREAM COMPANY:
"i think i'd suit studio delta best," yejun admits, perhaps a bit nervously. he knows it's the hardest to get into and he sounds like he's making a huge claim with those words. "i've been writing music for a while now, i play with my friends in a band. i don't know, i just... yeah." his eloquence escapes him even though he knows he can redo as many takes as he needs for this. he just wants to get it over. "if i'm not good enough for their standards... well, i have friends in sr media too. i think i'd be able to suit the company well with their help."
PREVIOUS MUSICAL EXPERIENCE:
"ah, well, if you think i look a little familiar, i did make it through most of next gen season two before i was eliminated in the finale. it was a disappointing result, wasn't it?" he sighs, though it doesn't sting as much as he thought it might. "i've always loved music. i did as many school plays and musicals as i could, even if my parents got mad at me for volunteering. and i think i mentioned the band with my friends... it's the third i've been in since i did my military service, actually. i just... love to make music. it's been my dream since i was a kid." a small smile cracks his lips. he's not very boastful naturally, so it feels weird to almost brag about this.
SKILLS:
"if i had to pick one, i guess i'm mostly a singer. but honestly... i'm sort of greedy to do it all. i'd like to learn to dance better, rap seems like it could be fun. i don't really want to limit myself to one skill even though... one is definitely my strongest right now," yejun acknowledges. "i guess i'm ambitious in that sense."
OTHER TALENTS:
"i... taught myself a lot of instruments. basically everything my parents said no to, i wanted to learn," yejun lets out a short laugh. oh, they'd be so mad at him now knowing that he's still doing auditions, still neglecting his education. but since they kicked him out, there's nothing they can do to stop him anymore. "i played drums in those bands i was in, but i know guitar, bass, a little bit of piano or keyboard... i could be a band by myself if it really fame down to it," he manages a sheepish grin. "and songwriting... we haven't performed anything i've written yet. i haven't even shown the others, honestly. but... i'm decent, i guess. i have a lot to learn."
FAVORITE ARTISTS:
yejun has to pause, suddenly unable to remember any artist ever as soon as he has to answer the question. "uh," he stalls for time, "i always looked up to link from lightspeed... and j-yoon from h.i.t of course. vertex... um, i forgot everyone i have on my playlist, suddenly," he laughs, embarrassed. "and i can't check, since i'm using my phone to record this."
rather than embarrass himself more, yejun figures it's best to wrap it up here. "thank you for your time," he bows again, polite as ever. "please consider me well."
learn this dance with me. how was yejun supposed to say no to hangyeol? thinking back, he can't recall a time when he's ever said no to the other man. he was charmed from the first time they met, smitten not long after, and still now there's a warm and fuzzy feeling whenever yejun so much as looks at the other man. he'd call it the honeymoon phase, but there's no definition to their relationship just yet. it's just yejun saying yes and not regretting a moment of it.
he is a little surprised that the dance that hangyeol wants to learn is something so easy, though. aren't they working him hard enough in training? even their very first next gen performances were more difficult than this.
still, yejun has never said no to hangyeol, yet he hardly notices when the music starts and only one set of footwork can be heard against the floor. he's focused on himself, on trying to put his best effort into this thing that clearly means something to the man he has very tender feelings for, even if yejun isn't all that practiced of a dancer himself. he knows his way around a move or two, he wouldn't have survived next gen as long as he did otherwise, but he's not a dancer like hangyeol is. he doesn't have the same innate fluidity, and his flexibility deserves to be laughed at. still. the effort is there.
it's only after the music clip ends that yejun realizes something is amiss. "wait," he turns, and he sees hangyeol smiling as he holds up a phone. "were you recording that?"
he's not mad, just a little surprised, and he scurries over to hangyeol's side to watch the playback. it's not that bad, yejun realizes. when his hands go up there's just the slightest peek of stomach that's... kinda sexy, if he's being honest with himself. "i guess you can post it. if you want." he's red in the face, shy despite the many reassurances that there's no need to be. "ah, what harm could it do? it was fun."
he is carted from stage to wing from host to producer to producer to staff to dressing room to close-up shots to rapid fire six-second interview highlights to more powder touchups to victor photoshoots one two and three to a room full of lawyers and network-branded pens. and it is all a blur. everything is deadlines and business cards and terms and conditions and nda's and attorneys and fat stacks of paper in language too complicated for the average layperson to understand but it doesn't matter because it has to be read before it can be signed.
he did it. he really did it.
he is slipped back into his street clothes and ushered out of backrooms and secret hallways with three massive packets of soul-selling contracts under his arm to find a waiting yejun lingering at the door.
through the warm, frenetic fluttering of glee, of ecstasy in his heart, an icy pang sounds, at the thought of celebrating his hard-won victory in the face of his closest companion, who had not been so lucky. there is dread that his joy will bring misery to the young man whose company he has grown so fond of; will he mope, will he sulk, will he instill in hangyeol guilt for being so openly proud of his achievements where anyone could see him?
but the moment is as fleeting as a puff of smoke, because yejun smiles so brightly it brings that glittering warmth back into hangyeol's heart as if he's lit the embers under it himself.
"thank you."
hangyeol falls easily against yejun's chest and into his arms, as if the space had been carved for this very moment, and for the first time in weeks, he can hide his face (which is starting to ache from smiling) somewhere safe from prying eyes.
"i don't know. i don't know anything right now," he admits, a frazzled, joyous whirlwind breathed against the collar of yejun's shirt, "it almost doesn't feel real. i suddenly regret not going to college and making a bunch of lawyer friends."
the warmth he feels in his chest is surely more than just the physical touch from the man in his arms. yejun wraps his arms around hangyeol just tightly enough for it to feel real, to make sure both of them are awake and alive and experiencing this wonderful thing together, even if it's only hangyeol's achievements to celebrate tonight. "i'm so happy for you," yejun affirms again, unable to explain enough how proud he is, how joyous this moment is even with his own loss hanging in the background. it's easy to forget when he hear the smile still on hangyeol's lips even when he can't see it.
"that makes sense... probably smarter too, actually. you'll probably feel different about everything after a good night's sleep." a laugh escapes him. "when's the last time we had one of those?" but even through the sarcasm, yejun doesn't have a hint of darkness in him for once. the melancholy will come back, as it always does, but tonight he can forget about it.
it's regretfully that he starts to peel himself away from the embrace, hot summer nights still painfully humid and sticky despite the sun long since hidden beyond the horizon. "my brother's a lawyer. if he's not as disappointed with me as our parents are, maybe he'll help you read over the contract. who needs college friends?"
i don't have to go back, yejun suddenly realizes. even though he's not signing any contracts tonight, if he'll ever sign one someday at all, he's not doomed to the same fate of math classes and too much coffee and not enough sleep for painfully boring lessons. he'll never have to set foot on that campus again; his parents no longer have a say in his present or future. there's a dull sort of glee that comes from that realization of freedom in itself; he almost can't believe that it's true. "i'm not going back to school." he affirms it out loud, making it real. "can you believe it?"
"there's so many people filming the dance challenge," siwoo says, as he walks towards the yogurt stall. it's true though, everywhere he turns he sees groups of friends crowded together with a phone in hand, moving to the lyrics of water water bomb bomb bomb. at this point, it's practically stuck in his head – even if it isn't typically the type of song that siwoo would listen to.
surprisingly enough, despite never having been on the same team in next gen, and yejun's short stint on the show – both him and siwoo had somehow morphed up some sort of friendship; one where they were close enough to enjoy each other's company here at waterbomb for a bit, without any awkwardness.
as he approaches the food area though, he notices the long – the really long line amassed by the yogurt stall. "fuck," he sighs. damn, siwoo really wanted some yogurt. but queuing up... in this heat...? his eyes follow the line, surprised by how long it ran.
in comparison to that of the spicy fried chicken. he furrows his brows. "this is going to sound stupid, considering it's already so fucking hot but..." he nudges yejun slightly, "should we try some spicy fried chicken? i think it'll take hours before we can get any yogurt."
yejun's pretty sure that siwoo thinks they're close enough friends to just hang out on weekends and it not be awkward. yejun also feels that they are not; he can't shake an awkward feeling between the two of them even though siwoo has been nothing but nice to him. he knows the man has beef with ren for reasons he doesn't fully know or understand, and that alone was enough to make him wary at their first meeting. now... he just feels a divide between them. siwoo has no idea how much money he has, that much was obvious when he walked into idol bootcamp for next gen in luxury brands. yejun is very much the opposite.
still, siwoo's company is better than wandering alone around waterbomb. yejun lost yuwol somewhere but he's not too worried about that yet; the other man always turns back up eventually. it's just a welcome respite to have a different extrovert to hang around instead of sitting somewhere alone like the loser he really is.
"it does sound stupid," yejun agrees. honestly, he can't think of anything worse than hot chicken while he's already warm enough. "can that give you heat stroke? i don't want to find out." the yogurt line is impossible though, and hunger is starting to set in. why do they never let you bring snacks into these sorts of events? "there's gotta be something else. anything else," yejun sighs. death by spicy chicken would be such an embarrassing way to go.
yuwol thinks it's almost a miracle that he managed to convince his parents enough that he's allowed to attend something like waterbomb. of course he didn't outright tell them where he's really going—they would immediately decide that he's wasting his time, that he's better off doing more violin lessons or attending their concerts. even though yuwol normally wouldn't be a part of the festival, anything to get away from his family home is appreciative. especially if he doesn't have to feel so alone in the process.
"i'm... twenty-two, now. my birthday was last month, actually," he answers. it wasn't a very spectacular birthday, spent mostly doing whatever his parents wished him to do, celebrating the family's accomplishments instead of yuwol himself. like most things he had experienced lately, it's a fever dream and he doesn't feel as if he was never truly present in the moment.
right now, though, he feels... more alive, somehow. maybe it's the scorching heat of the sun, and the water on his skin, but he doesn't feel as dead as he usually does. and he's with a friend, someone who's all too familiar with having rather overbearing parents who are intent on dictating their lives. yuwol had thought it was normal, but it's only recently that he realized the environment he had lived through had been—and still is—unreasonable.
"to be honest, i thought they would have kicked me out when they found out i was in next gen." that had been his biggest worry throughout next gen, wondering what he should do if he finds himself without a home. yuwol doesn't exactly have reliable life skills. turns out, there was something worse. "but, they didn't. they just confined me more... maybe they'd actually forbid me from leaving the house if they find out where i really am this time." he intended to be lighthearted in his reply, but he's finding the possiblity so much more real now that he has said it out loud.
"i'm glad you're doing okay," yuwol doesn't forget to say, attempting to smile. "where are you staying now? oh, not that you have to tell me, of course."
yejun sees yuwol and he sees a worse future than the one he managed to fall into himself. what would have happened to him if his parents had reacted to the next gen reveal the same way yuwol's had? locked away, forbidden from doing the things he loved, hardly seeing the people who truly supported him, shackled to a job he hates and a life that's hardly worth living as he plods along one monotonous day after the next... it makes yejun all the more grateful that he managed to get yuwol out and about and to something fun today. maybe it'll give him the boost he needs to get through another few days.
"let's just not tell them," yejun suggests, though it definitely goes without saying that no one will be informing yuwol's parents what's going on here. "don't even take any pictures on your phone, just in case. i can take them and send them to you later, someday." if things ever get better, he leaves unspoken. yuwol can't be happy with his arrangement, but yejun doesn't need to draw more attention to it than it already takes up.
"i'm actually staying with hangyeol," yejun admits, "you know, the guy who won everything? we've been friends for a while now... and since he's a trainee, he's gone most of the day, so i kind of have the place to myself." it's lonely sometimes, he has to admit. still heaps better than the home he had been in before, and the soft nights falling asleep beside hangyeol couldn't be traded for anything, but... it's quiet during the day. after growing up with two older brothers, the quiet sort of unnerves him.
a pause falls between them as yejun suddenly feels self-conscious, as if he's said too much when in reality he's hardly said anything at all. so he changes the topic entirely. "are you hungry?" he asks. there's the distant scent of food stands that seems to grow stronger the moment yejun thinks about it. "it's so hot i think i'd just about kill someone for a fruit popsicle right now."
"what do you mean a curfew?" yejun can't help but simply be stunned. he hasn't really seen much of yuwol since they both failed out of next gen but he could never guess that this might have been the reason why. "how old are you again? they gave a curfew to an adult?" maybe he shouldn't be so shocked; if anyone understands overbearing parents, it's yejun. his own hadn't cared too much what time he got home so long as his grades were good, his homework was done, and he was on time for class in the morning. even that had felt like too much to bear at the time.
he can only sigh and shake his head. he's glad that he asked yuwol about his plans and managed to lie their way out of his parents home. they don't know that they're going to waterbomb fest but what they don't know won't kill them. the kids with strict parents are the best at lying and sneaking around, after all.
discovering that yuwol's parents had the opposite reaction to his own only makes yejun more grateful that things worked out the way they did. he's a college dropout crashing on his friend's couch without a cent to his name and yet he's never been happier. he's not hiding his guitar under the bed anymore, or studying a subject he has absolutely no interest in. yejun is finally free to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. it's sad that it came at the cost of family dinners and time spent with his older brothers but... he has to admit, it's worth it.
"do you think your parents would kick you out if they knew where we were?" he wonders aloud. "i mean, you know what happened to me during next gen. but lowkey... i've never been better since being kicked out. i actually recommend it."
yejun's not quite sure how he keeps ending up out with yulhee. she's a nice girl and all (if he's using the term generously at least) but their personalities are such a dramatic clash. yejun is quiet and reserved, he thinks before he speaks, and he's careful with his words and actions. yulhee is the opposite in every way: loud, outgoing, brash, impulsive... when he thinks about it like that, maybe she's not that nice of a girl after all.
she was yapping away about something that yejun was only half-pretending to pay attention to when he feels that tell-tale ache begind behind his right eye, crawling up his forehead until it takes root there and begins to bore its way in. he knows what will come next; the pulsing, the sensitivity to light and sound, the overwhelming urge to go home and crawl under his blankets and try to block out the world until the headache has passed. it's just his luck that he's out and about with possibly the worst person for him in this state.
"sorry to interrupt," he says, though he isn't really all that sorry. "do you have any aspirin on you? headache."
belatedly, yejun realizes how his words might be interpreted. "not because of you!" he clarifies quickly, "i just get migraines from time to time... the weather or something does it to me, not people. you're good. i just wanted to take some sort of painkiller to try to stop it before it really takes off."
of course it's a chaotic mix of emotions in the finale of next gen. yejun can't lie and say he's not disappointed at all; it's only natural that he'd feel a bit glum about making it so far, so close, sacrificing his time, energy, and even family to make it here, only to fall short at the end of the competition. he can't get back the blood, sweat, and tears he put into each performance, nor does he think that he really wants to. there's bitterness, of course, but there's sweetness too.
for once, hwang yejun is looking on the bright side.
it's easy, actually, when there's a whole sun shining brightly just beside him. well, not literally at the moment; hangyeol disappeared behind the scenes somewhere to talk terms and agreements. yejun couldn't be happier for him, despite his own pain. he deserves this prize more than anyone, finally something good to change his friend's life for the better. and it goes without saying that hangyeol was one of the strongest contestants in the first place; it should be no surprise that he's a grand prize winner after everything.
yejun waits for his friend, standing idly by the back exit of the studio. he wishes he had a job or something; since being more or less disowned by his parents, the young man really doesn't have a cent to his name. that doesn't stop him from wishing he could take hangyeol out for a late night celebration to bask in his victory. he'd feel bad for asking the star of the night to pay, but he hardly has time to think about that before he spots hangyeol making his way over. a smile splits yejun's lips automatically.
"i'm so proud of you, you deserve this," he opens his arms for a hug, saying all the words he hadn't had a chance to get in during the chaos of the finale. "do you know where you're signing? are you excited?" he wants to know all of it, every detail of what hangyeol must be feeling right now. if yejun can't experience it for himself just yet, he'll live through the other man instead.
in which another unsuspecting victim falls prey to yulhee's whims.
a starter to @beyejun !
“...and then they moved us all to this big building and had us shooting ads for samsung, though of course they didn’t pay us any extra for that...”, yulhee continues as she adjusts the bag over her shoulder. you would think that by now she’d noticed her companion is doing a poor job at hiding his disinterest, but she goes on with her story as if it’s unfathomable to her that he wouldn’t be paying attention.
still completely oblivious to the fact that yejun has fallen behind a little, she opens the front door and steps into the night air. all around them, she sees other people enjoying the discounts from shops and restaurants alike. “i had to spray dye my hair back to black for that and it was so annoying to take it all out... and... huh?” her eyes dart from the night sky to the building she just walked out of, at last realizing she’d been way too focused on the sound of her own voice until now. “yejun oppa? where are you? a~ah, did you leave me?”
of course he didn’t. of course he’s still trapped with her a while longer.
“you got me monologuing! are you that bored of me, oppa?”, she doesn’t sound nearly as hurt as she should, and perhaps she isn’t really taking it personally after all. there’s something off about yejun, as if it’s never really clicked with him. not that such mismatch would ever stop yulhee. “after i bought you dinner and everything, is that how you treat me, oppa? so mean~~!”
she darts back to his side and looks at him directly, pouting and stomping in what she hopes is obvious pretending. “it’s so dangerous to leave a girl alone at night, oppa~~ but it’s so nice out, will you go on a walk with me? i promise it won’t be long, and i can drop you off home if you want!” as per usual, she doesn’t wait on an answer, and instead gently pulls yejun along by the arm until he is keeping up with her pace again.
and that’s when the two guys show up from around the corner, camera and microphone in hand. “oh, what do we have here? what a lovely couple! would you be alright with answering a few questions for our online show, nemo’s dream?”
yulhee’s eyes light up instantly. without missing a beat, she inches closer to yejun, the excitement clear as day on her face. “ah, i know that show! i loved the episode when they were making bungeoppang... oppa, can we? pleeeease?”
it's easy for him to stay silent in the presence of a much more talkative creature. in some ways, maybe, it's even comforting. the space between them is filled with nonstop chatter, yulhee babbling away without hardly as much as a breath in between different thoughts. it means that yejun doesn't have to think of anything to say in response. he listens for the most part, of course, because he's always been a polite young man (and he's pretty sure she'll quiz him on it later if she catches him off guard) but he makes no attempt to interject his own thoughts.
maybe his mind does wander a little bit. maybe he gets caught up in window shopping, absently raking his eyes over various bits and bobs in the displays they walk by. maybe that's how yulhee pulls ahead without him noticing until he realizes that the world is a little quieter than it was a moment ago. it's only for a moment though; yulhee is back in a flash, pulling on his arm and chastising him for leaving her (even if he hadn't even truly been out of eyesight, just not glued to her side like she probably wanted).
"we're the same age," he reminds her, perhaps a little uncomfortable with being called 'oppa' when there's really no reason for her to be speaking to him that way. he supposes that some men probably find it cute. yejun just finds it awkward.
he's at the mercy of yulhee's whims when suddenly they're accosted by two men and a camera. at first, yejun braces himself for some dumb tiktok prankster or something equally miserable. but it's not that, it's some sort of interview, and while he's never heard of nemo's dream before in his life, yulhee seems familiar with it. it's not often that he feels like he can trust her, but he'll give it a shot this once.
"we're not..." he tries to clarify that they're not a couple, but yulhee shatters that illusion by calling him oppa yet again. he sighs, giving into the reality of his situation for now, and acquiesces. "it's not like we have anything else to do," he concedes; it was a walk that he hadn't even agreed to, technically. "what's this going on?" he asks the cameraman, perhaps a little suspicious about his likeness being used. you can never be too sure these days.
hwang yejun performs nonstop for next gen season 2
cute and bright, is that it? yejun's still not quite sure if he's convincing enough, but from the moment he sets eyes on their cotton-candy-colored stage, he thinks it's going to be okay anyway. they've really thought this through, haven't they? it was never going to be enough to simply perform the same thing as the original; adding the twist of a first date at a carnival surely will make their performance stand out. he tugs on his outfit, suddenly hot and trying to find a little extra breathing room among the pastel colors. he knows he's just nervous.
dress rehearsal helps get some of the jitters out. yejun knows by now that no matter how hard they practice, it still feels different when they're in costume, under stage lights, with a fresh coat of makeup on their faces. he almost feels like a real idol in these moments except for the fact that he's pretty sure idols don't get this many butterflies in their stomach every single time they step on stage. he's not sure if it's anxiety or excitement though both are just a different form of anticipation.
perhaps it's because he's still fighting his nerves that he finds himself messing up a key moment in their final practice. it's yejun's responsibility to take his "date" (see: the cameraman) through a house of mirrors, catching the love interest's hand when they stumble. it's a bit cringey, maybe, to flirt with the camera and provide that "point of view" experience for the viewers at home, but it should be cute, right? what's absolutely not supposed to happen is yejun being the one to eat dirt instead, and yet that's what happens as he trips over the feet on one of the mirrors and the staff acting as the cameraman reaches out for him instead.
yejun can't help but laugh, though it's not a jovial sound at all. it's high and anxious, bordering hysterics as he tries to squash down the overwhelming sense of dread. "but that was still cute!" the staff member tries to insist while trying to calm him down. yejun can only shake his head; that's not good enough, he needs to be perfect for the sake of this team.
losing his mind certainly won't help them either, though. as they wrap up their final practice, yejun excuses himself to the restroom. a moment alone, that's all he needs. he's grateful no one else is hiding away in a stall when he comes in and that it's quieter in here than it is in their backstage waiting rooms. he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply once, twice, three times. you've got this, he tells himself silently. yejun had never been much of a believer in meditation or manifestation before, but it can't hurt to give it a try now. at least in the meantime, it gives him something else to focus on and believe in; it helps him recenter his mind so he can move forward instead of dwelling on a mistake.
he's back with the others before they have too much of a chance to miss him, a stylist fussing with his hair and makeup one more time before she loses the contestants to the stage for the final time. yejun sits still and patient, still breathing quietly in the moments when he feels another wave of anxiety coming on. of course, the peace only lasts for so long before nonstop group is being called up to the stage.
yejun's eyes search across the faces of his team, trying to gauge how they're all feeling in this moment as a way to reassure himself that they're all ready for this. he finds hangyeol and he can't help but feel some of that tension bleed away; surely they'll be okay. they've all done their best, after all.
they take their starting positions, yejun glancing around once again and sending a smile to anyone whose eye he happens to catch. he tries not to betray his own nerves; he's the one who said he's not an actor, yet here his is acting like he's meant to be here, like he's allowed to stand on this stage with better performers than himself and convince the judges that he's just as bright and cute as they seem to think he is. he takes one more deep breath. he can do this; no one will be going home from nonstop team today.
it's easy to get into the music as the song starts to play, a smile finding its way to yejun's face immediately. the bright, bouncy nature of the melody tickles his brain in just the right way and yejun has always been able to lose himself into music more easily than not. he's glad he made this realization when he did; it wasn't so much about acting as it was channeling the song through his movement and expressions.
and speaking of movement, he doesn't trip this time. the camera does though, as planned, and yejun's brow furrows in concern as he reaches over, acting as if he's helping his date regain their feet with both hands. he looks over them worriedly, singing as he goes, before ultimately deciding they're okay and breathing a huge sigh of relief with a smile. he points out a funky mirror and laughs as his part concludes, somehow able to find his character easily when it counts.
it's a fun performance. he feels his heart flutter a bit, as if this is truly a first love, as he watches the others perform their solo moments as well. maybe his heart flips a little harder for hangyeol's dessert scene; hangyeol should have been treated to a pure love like this all along. but there's hardly any time to think about that, not when yejun's doing his best to sing in a key that's a little bit higher than he might have originally suggested. thanks to careful practice, he manages to hit his notes anyway.
cute and bright, huh? yejun never really saw that sort of concept on himself. cute, maybe, he's been called that much more often than he's been called handsome, but bright? that's almost laughable; how could anyone call him bright when he walks around with a permanent rain cloud over his head, raining down on him no matter how hard he tries to pretend he's fine? he can't tell if that's better or worse these days; on one hand, he's mourning the loss of his childhood home, half of his belongings still packed in boxes and piling in the corner of someone else's apartment. on the other... well, he just likes being around hangyeol. moving in to his place was better than being left on the streets, even if guilt still haunts yejun for imposing without anything to offer in return.
perhaps it's fate laughing at him. or maybe a misguided deity who doesn't understand the way the world really works. whatever it is, yejun's own feelings remain complicated and neither wholly pleasant nor unpleasant.
he does have to admit that he's happy to finally be working with hangyeol in next gen. yejun can't believe he's survived another episode, his rank rather low but always just high enough to save him from elimination. hangyeol, on the other end, is now boasting first place for two episodes. of course yejun knows that hangyeol deserves it; he's a talented performer and charming no matter what he's doing.
yejun may not have much to his name, but he does have a small bottled vitamin supplement and a smile to offer to hangyeol when he asks him to help him with dance practice. as his friend enters the room, yejun feels his own face splitting into a soft smile as he exclaims a rather soft "congratulations!"
there may not be poppers or confetti, but yejun imagines that there is. he hands the small gift over to hangyeol, insisting he takes it even if he tries to refuse, and squeezes his hands warmly during the transfer. "i know we barely have any time for it, but your second first place should be celebrated. i'll do something better if you get a hat trick," he laughs, though wouldn't that be something?
"ah-" there no poppers or confetti, but hangyeol's heart flutters like a baby bird I'm his chest at yejun's entrance nonetheless. why the young man causes such a reaction in hangyeol when they see each other every day, when they innocently share a bed at night, when they travel to and from the axis label properties together, he dares not acknowledge. even if there wasn't the threat of cameras around every corner, hangyeol would be afraid of that baby bird feeling, too wary of frightening yejun away or causing him discomfort while he exists in such a fragile, vulnerable state.
but with their group's concept, those rapidly beating wings are getting harder and harder to ignore.
he takes the vitamin drink with grateful hands, even inclinining his head in a small bow out of habit, before he feels himself turn a little pink, and chuckles bashfully.
"thank you, yejun. that's so kind. I only feel like I have to work...even harder now. maybe even harder than before. I'm afraid one of these days I may run out of 'hard' to work."
he realizes he's smiling without having to think about it, feels warm, calloused hands squeeze his, dares not be the first of them to let go.
"I'm just happy we're finally on a team together. does this make you my voice teacher now?" he adds playfully, almost.mischeivously, "officially?"
there's such a warmth in hangyeol's presence. yejun thinks he must have picked up on it from the first time they met, even though the club was dimly lit and far too noisy for proper conversations. it's like sunshine peaking through the rainclouds, a single golden ray turning the sparse remainder of the drops into sparkling crystals in the sky. sometimes, when it hits just right, it paints a brilliant stripe across the universe and brings color back into yejun's world. sometimes he feels guilty for coveting it, even now. he could hardly spend more time with hangyeol even if he tried these days, and yet it never feels like enough.
all yejun can do is smile in return as hangyeol bows and thanks him, the faintest color in his cheeks betraying a hint of good-natured embarrassment. yejun's just happy to do something nice for a friend.
"i'll help you," yejun offers immediately. he has no plans to hit number one at this point; he's doing his best to break the top ten still. "you deserve this, you're amazing." do they hold hands for a moment too long? yejun finds himself reluctant to let go, but he drops his arms back to his sides anyway. he feels some of that sunlight retreat immediately the moment contact is broken.
it is their first time working together and yejun finds himself looking forward to it more than he should. there's a professional aspect to it, of course; who better to dance with than the man who keeps taking first place for it? never mind his other warm and fuzzy feelings. he finds himself laughing, easier than he thought it would be. "i'll be your voice teacher if you be my dance teacher," he offers, the exchange still seemingly a bit weighted in yejun's favor. "or can you teach me to act?"
"i don't know, i've never acted before. i mean, not really," yejun admits, though he second-guesses his assertion at the last minute. he's "acted" (see: lied) in his life; harmless things like pretending to be sick to get out of a gathering he was dreading or saying that his homework was done when he really hadn't touched it yet. he's never intentionally tried to become a concept, to play a character other than himself. he's been called cute before, but it always came across as patronizing rather than anything remotely positive. he's not sure how cute he really is.
jueun is an unfamiliar face to him. of course he's seen her around, but it's their first time working together and yejun is slow to open up to strangers. it takes him time to get to know someone, to exchange details of himself in exchange for details of their own. his initial assessment is that the women fits the concept much better than he does, but it's not like that's hard criteria to beat.
"i just hope i don't let the team down. a black hole is pretty much the opposite of cute," yejun tries to smile, tries to make a joke of it, but the waver in his smile betrays the truth; he's genuinely worried about this one. he can sing, he's learning to dance, but acting is a new challenge entirely. "and i've never been on a date with a cameraman before," that joke flows a little better, honest without being too self-deprecating.
"that's a lie because i saw you in the last round, and you pulled off that villainish act in the performance!" there was a lot that was required for a performance other than simply singing and dancing, and jueun thinks that it's become super apparent especially in next gen. the judges were looking for so much more than just good singers and dancers. they were searching for people who could put on a show.
that's why this round felt even more important when it came to putting in the effort to tell a story. with her falling in ranks so much, she was genuinely scared that she might be sent home, so she was determined to prove that she could pull off this concept and put on a great show.
"this is going to be a team effort, so throw those thoughts away," she said rather firmly before nudging him gently with her elbow. "neither have i, but i'm sure we can pull it off. just give the camera your charming little smile, and i'm sure it'll be convincing enough." she's trying to lighten up the mood because she can hear the worry behind his voice. "we got this," she said once more before offering yejun her fist for him to bump.
he doesn't know why he feels so embarrassed; jueun's giving him a compliment and yejun's first instinct is still to dismiss it, to pretend he didn't do anything special and that he's just lucky to be here. but that won't help him in this competition, he knows that. he laughs awkwardly anyway, unsure how to explain that he wasn't trying to be a villain, he was just trying not to shit his pants on stage. "ah, i don't know what happened there," he manages, "i had a good team."
jueun is right though; the team needs him to be better than he is. yejun knows he can't coast by on the good fortune of others' forever. he doesn't want to put them in a position where they'll have to say good bye to someone in this room. they're all too talented, they all deserve to be here.
"ah, those thoughts have a nasty habit of coming back even when i show them the door," he manages a smile, wondering if it's as charming as jueun claims it is or if she's just being nice to him. "let's work hard," he agrees, bumping his knuckles against hers in a sort of silent cheer. "we have to win. i don't want to see anyone from this team go home."
in a world where everything is still so unfamiliar to him, yejun finds himself happy to cling to the familiar. he has hangyeol with him this time, the first time since their auditions that he's been able to work with his friend (and now roommate) on one of these missions. but more immediately, he has yuwol. admittedly, yejun had never been too sure about their relationship. outside of playing in a band together, he's not sure if yuwol ever really considered him a friend. he thinks they're on their way to becoming better friends now, if they were only slightly acquainted before.
"it's..." yejun picks his words carefully, always aware of the cameras on them. he's seen the way the editors mince their words, picking them apart and putting them back together in the most unflattering ways. "well, do you think i'm cute?" he ends up asking, admittedly curious to see how they'll spin that. and maybe curious about yuwol's response too... he knows his friend isn't the most typical of people. "i've never met anyone who's called me bright before. maybe the judges see something we don't." he shrugs, unwilling to question their choices very much.
he considers yuwol in return. would he call the other man cute? maybe, but in the same way you'd call an abandoned furby kinda cute, in a vaguely haunted way. he's never really sure what's going on in yuwol's head and he doesn't press too hard either; they both seem to talk in circles around each other more often than not. "maybe you're bright but not cute," yejun half-jokes, unsure if he'd normally describe yuwol that way either.
yuwol has a plethora of bad habits, the accumulation of which results in burnt bridges, albeit slowly. he'd never been the best at keeping contact, or the traditional demands of conventional friendship. the friends he does have though, he hopes he can keep. other than being in the same band and running in the same circles, he and yejun have never really been too close. but, he thinks things are slowly changing in the dawn of next gen. ironic, seeing as this is a competition first and foremost, each contestant vying for the same prize.
now though, after a session of brainstorming, yuwol thinks there's no harm in enjoying the calm before the storm. he hadn't expected yejun to pose the question that he did, but yuwol does intend to answer sincerely. he blinks down at the other, as if studying the intricacies of yejun's face with a hum. "i think you are," yuwol concludes after a moment; genuine. "you have the cheeks of a squirrel—ah, no... not quite. a quokka? but yes, it's cute." he doesn't mean to tease, but it might sound that way despite his honesty.
at yejun's comments about himself though, yuwol merely smiles. he doesn't really have anything to say to that—he knows both the words cute and bright aren't terms that closer friends would call yuwol. but that's where the beauty of acting comes in.
"i never did get to tell you how elated i felt when we got to sing together last round. you have a good voice," yuwol compliments. "i think we both got the higher notes this time, in the chorus. should we give it a try?"
content warning: body image/weight discussions/fatshaming
his hands fly to his face, covering the soft flesh he knows sits stubbornly there. how many times have yejun's cheeks been manhandled by a well-meaning auntie who remarks on how he's gained weight yet again and how ugly all the fat on his face is? certainly, in comparison to his more chiseled brothers, yejun can hardly compare. yuwol doesn't know about that complex and yejun certainly can't get mad at him for pointing out the obvious, but his face does flush bright red with shame and in resentment of the memories triggered.
"ah," he presses against his own flesh as if willing it to disappear entirely, "i should start working out," he laments out loud, the cameras temporarily forgotten while he still reels himself back in from the unexpected wave that knocked him off course for a moment there. "at least someone thinks it's cute. it's stubborn," he sighs; even when his depression kills his appetite, there's still what he sees as an unflattering roundness to his cheeks. "do i really look like a quokka?" he reaches for his phone to search up a picture, suddenly unsure of his own memory. yejun's face falls in dismay as he realizes he resembles another pudgy, soft creature so closely.
surprise takes him again when yuwol so openly compliments him, expresses how he wanted to be in a team with him. yejun can't imagine why; he can sing a bit, but it's not like his rank has ever been anything to write home about. he's just getting by in this competition, he's no one special. a smile crosses his face anyway, warmed by yuwol's words even if he can't help but doubt them. "thanks. you're good too... and we knew we'd work well together," he nudges his bandmate slightly, a friendly gesture. at least they have that.
"we should warm up first before going into high notes," his hands find his abdomen unconsciously, rubbing the muscles there as if to loosen up his diaphragm through massage. "but yeah, that's a better use of our time than arguing about who's cuter." yejun manages another smile.
"how are you feeling about this whole cute concept?'
oddly enough, jueun realized that once the teams were called, she hasn't interacted with yejun much before this round. she had made it a personal goal of hers to initiate conversations with most people as she could, but that became harder once they were put into groups and since her and yejun weren't grouped together the last round, this felt like the first time she was holding an actual conversation with him.
nevertheless, she's kept an eye on most of the contestants through the rounds, and she didn't think she'd find yejun in a cute and bubbly concept like nonstop. surely, the judges had an image in mind when they formed this group, but she was just surprised.
"i think the acting portion we added will be really fun. adds into the cutesy nature of the song," she adds with a soft giggle. after falling in ranks, jueun was really hoping that this performance will turn things around for her. she didn't want to be packing her bags already, after all. thankfully, she was put into a group she felt most confident about, and she was looking forward to what the group will pull off as a whole.
"i don't know, i've never acted before. i mean, not really," yejun admits, though he second-guesses his assertion at the last minute. he's "acted" (see: lied) in his life; harmless things like pretending to be sick to get out of a gathering he was dreading or saying that his homework was done when he really hadn't touched it yet. he's never intentionally tried to become a concept, to play a character other than himself. he's been called cute before, but it always came across as patronizing rather than anything remotely positive. he's not sure how cute he really is.
jueun is an unfamiliar face to him. of course he's seen her around, but it's their first time working together and yejun is slow to open up to strangers. it takes him time to get to know someone, to exchange details of himself in exchange for details of their own. his initial assessment is that the women fits the concept much better than he does, but it's not like that's hard criteria to beat.
"i just hope i don't let the team down. a black hole is pretty much the opposite of cute," yejun tries to smile, tries to make a joke of it, but the waver in his smile betrays the truth; he's genuinely worried about this one. he can sing, he's learning to dance, but acting is a new challenge entirely. "and i've never been on a date with a cameraman before," that joke flows a little better, honest without being too self-deprecating.
yuwol can't lie, he's a little surprised that he finds himself in a team with @beyejun again. he thought they'd mix the groups enough that he'd be alongside new faces. then again, there's a limited amount of people in the first place. that being said, he isn't going to complain—he's glad about it, because he's familiar with yejun and they've worked together before, even prior to next gen.
the other reason is... well, he's worried about his friend, especially after events in the previous episode. they did win in the end, but that doesn't mean all of yejun's burdens suddenly turn light on his shoulders. yuwol doesn't mean to hover over yejun's being at all times; yejun is an independent and capable person. but, still.
in true yuwol fashion though, he doesn't say anything outright. "what do you feel about the concept we have, this time?" yuwol asks, his voice soft as always, hoping he doesn't alarm the other. "it's a completely different route than what we came up with previously." safe to call it an exact opposite to what they did with cake, that's for sure.
in a world where everything is still so unfamiliar to him, yejun finds himself happy to cling to the familiar. he has hangyeol with him this time, the first time since their auditions that he's been able to work with his friend (and now roommate) on one of these missions. but more immediately, he has yuwol. admittedly, yejun had never been too sure about their relationship. outside of playing in a band together, he's not sure if yuwol ever really considered him a friend. he thinks they're on their way to becoming better friends now, if they were only slightly acquainted before.
"it's..." yejun picks his words carefully, always aware of the cameras on them. he's seen the way the editors mince their words, picking them apart and putting them back together in the most unflattering ways. "well, do you think i'm cute?" he ends up asking, admittedly curious to see how they'll spin that. and maybe curious about yuwol's response too... he knows his friend isn't the most typical of people. "i've never met anyone who's called me bright before. maybe the judges see something we don't." he shrugs, unwilling to question their choices very much.
he considers yuwol in return. would he call the other man cute? maybe, but in the same way you'd call an abandoned furby kinda cute, in a vaguely haunted way. he's never really sure what's going on in yuwol's head and he doesn't press too hard either; they both seem to talk in circles around each other more often than not. "maybe you're bright but not cute," yejun half-jokes, unsure if he'd normally describe yuwol that way either.
cute and bright, huh? yejun never really saw that sort of concept on himself. cute, maybe, he's been called that much more often than he's been called handsome, but bright? that's almost laughable; how could anyone call him bright when he walks around with a permanent rain cloud over his head, raining down on him no matter how hard he tries to pretend he's fine? he can't tell if that's better or worse these days; on one hand, he's mourning the loss of his childhood home, half of his belongings still packed in boxes and piling in the corner of someone else's apartment. on the other... well, he just likes being around hangyeol. moving in to his place was better than being left on the streets, even if guilt still haunts yejun for imposing without anything to offer in return.
perhaps it's fate laughing at him. or maybe a misguided deity who doesn't understand the way the world really works. whatever it is, yejun's own feelings remain complicated and neither wholly pleasant nor unpleasant.
he does have to admit that he's happy to finally be working with hangyeol in next gen. yejun can't believe he's survived another episode, his rank rather low but always just high enough to save him from elimination. hangyeol, on the other end, is now boasting first place for two episodes. of course yejun knows that hangyeol deserves it; he's a talented performer and charming no matter what he's doing.
yejun may not have much to his name, but he does have a small bottled vitamin supplement and a smile to offer to hangyeol when he asks him to help him with dance practice. as his friend enters the room, yejun feels his own face splitting into a soft smile as he exclaims a rather soft "congratulations!"
there may not be poppers or confetti, but yejun imagines that there is. he hands the small gift over to hangyeol, insisting he takes it even if he tries to refuse, and squeezes his hands warmly during the transfer. "i know we barely have any time for it, but your second first place should be celebrated. i'll do something better if you get a hat trick," he laughs, though wouldn't that be something?
it's certainly not his first time on stage. yejun can only hope that it's not his last. if he's eliminated tonight, then what was the point of any of this? what was the point of losing his home, his relationship with his family? as dramatic as it sounds, it's quite literally what he sacrificed the moment he decided to appear on television. maybe it was inevitable. maybe yejun was always going to rebel eventually, play music with his friends or pursue idol-dom otherwise. but to happen now, on the eve of the first elimination round... it feels like a bad omen hanging in the air.
maybe the makeup on his face, the grungy costume to help sell their villain-eque concept, and the professional lights and cameras are still a bit new and overwhelming to him, but at least the weight of the guitar in his hands is familiar. he wraps his fingers around the neck, both muting the strings in case of any accidental sounds before he's supposed to begin and for his own comfort, like a child grabbing onto a toy. he glances at yuwol, seira, and chaerin and can't help but wonder if they're as nervous as he is. he hopes not; he feels awful.
the lights dim and yejun knows to be ready. they have some control over the start of their own song, after all; they're playing their own instrumental intro before leaving the instruments behind to get into the typical idol stuff, singing and dancing. he takes one last deep breath while he still has the chance, trying to shake off as many nerves as possible. yejun looks to his teammates and waits for their cue to start.
he hasn't played guitar on stage very many times, but it comes just as easily as hiding behind the drum set at the back of the stage had back when he performed with eat schmidt, dead calm, and then that's classified. there's something about an instrument in his hands, something he's confident in and has full control of, that makes him feel a little better. he's glad that they decided to do this first. by the time they're discarding their instruments and taking over the center of the stage, yejun has a moment to collect his bearings and decide that he does have the confidence to do this.
the good thing about all of this practice is that he already feels his endurance getting better from week to week, his voice a little easier and less breathless even during the harder parts of the dance. he feels stronger, more confident. yejun even feels good about the intricate hand movements that had made him doubt himself earlier in practice. chaerin is a good teacher.
i wonder if they're watching, he finds the red light of a camera, not quite realizing he's smiling into the lens until after it moves away from him. would they feel like he's mocking them, that he's rubbing his 'bad decision' in their faces? yejun hopes not; he hopes there's something left of his family he can return to once this is all over. but he can't stop to worry about them, his drummer's sense of rhythm keeping his body on beat, his voice singing his to heart's content.
as they strike the final pose, yejun can't help the smile across his face. no, this is exactly where he needs to be. this is what he was born for, what he was always meant to do. even if he's still making mistakes, if he still has a lot to learn, he'll do what he can to make it.
