[[kelly clarkson plays]] Here I am, once again...late and in shambles. I admire all of your pretty intros from afar, and apologize that I can’t work photoshop at all. nonetheless, allo, I’m cherry and I’m bringing my pain in the ass CHOI JUMIN, aka the designated VISUAL of PHOENIX. (all caps as I scream it in my head when I think about it) I’m still working to get the rest of his pages up, but until then, I’ll give y’all a rundown of his personality as well as plots beneath the cut. basically, he has not been feeling too sexy about things recently chief
info
>> his idol persona is your standard, mysterious, sexy, heartbreaker persona. 🙄 he flirts left and right, the type of idol who has a lot of Y/N stans because he enables them, does a lot of fanservice. makes his skin crawl every time, but he has mastered the art of waiting until he’s alone to vent his frustrations.
>> he has spent his whole life around people who make assumptions about him. not only his parents, who are both accomplished and awarded actors who believed their only son would naturally take after them and flourish in the spotlight, but his whole persona basically relies on that too.
>> his act is threefold. there’s his public persona. then there’s his off stage persona, which is still an act of its own. he assumes by default that everyone is only interested in his idol persona and resents that, so on purpose, he becomes the most boring person to talk to, so he’ll disappoint their expectations and leave him alone.
>> there are very, very, very few people who he truly feels comfortable enough to be himself around. and as much as he cares for his fellow members, he has a difficult time truly connecting with some of them. but he tries to be a good hyung at least, in the sense that he’s the first to speak out against unfair treatment or out of line behavior from fans. it has gotten him into trouble quite a few times, but he always stands his ground on this.
>> i’ll leave his true personality a (sparkle)mystery(sparkle) for now.
>> resents his parents for getting him into idol life. he never wanted it and almost left as a trainee, but when he grew to care about the other members during that time, and when he learned that him leaving could potentially set back or jeopardize the group’s debut, he couldn’t do that to them. so he debuted. honestly, he only does all of this for them, as he doesn’t feel it’s fair for him to bring down the group for something that isn’t their faults.
>> his hobbies are reading and writing. he contributes to some songwriting, he is more of a bridge vocalist but doesn’t mind if he doesn’t get as many lines, he’s more interested the production and composition of songs. he also likes films, honestly he wishes his parents groomed him for the film industry instead because he would have liked that more, but alas.
>> very active on social media ((under an anonymous account of course, he masquerades as a braveheart stan)) ((he does like their music though)), has given himself a bit of a self image issue from seeing pictures of himself so often. likes stirring shit up, talking to people who have no idea who he is, it’s freeing.
>> the mans just wants to be treated like a person and for someone to believe in him as him, not as the personality he projects.
some plot ideas
conflict - they don’t always see eye to eye, has led to tough arguments before
crackship - they have literally never interacted, but their fans are obsessed with theories of them dating
unknowing mutuals - they met on social media, jumin pretending to be someone else, and became good friends but they have no idea who each other really are.
someone who knows he has been considering not renewing his contract when the time comes. maybe they are trying to convince him otherwise? or trying to blackmail him with it?
lookout - muse that he is always finding and bailing out of trouble.
exes
no strings attached fwb, definitely a secret that can’t get out any time soon
“sorry about that,” she murmured. “just makes you cherish the good ones out there even more though,” mika mused, a small smile on her face though it was hidden — like the ones asking about her day during fansigns and those who gave her letters, she’d read those every night before bed. “they did,” she reassured quickly. “had to sleep somewhere else for a bit though but luckily we didn’t have another incident like that,” she lifted a shoulder in a shrug, it was over with but damn, did it leave a mark on her and her group. “the only problem i have with how they handled it is we’re still in the same place so like, that’s not really helping,” she snorted, rolling her eyes.
mika nodded quickly, “it was probably just before nyx debuted that i remember seeing you with a few other trainees.” she scrunched up her nose, trying to recall the details better. “you guys were all the same height though,” she giggled. he wasn’t lying though — their company was weird like that, they had many quirks that rubbed her the wrong way but alas, she stayed for her members and staff. “you made a good choice by going somewhere else for sure,” the blonde told him honestly. she let out a huff then, approaching the chicken place with excited steps. “they actually replaced it but fuck, you have no idea how long they waited to do it,” she ranted, stepping inside the restaurant.
“ah, don’t be. not your fault,” he said easily, with a long shrug. “i’m glad you got through it okay that time, but i hope nothing happens during this tour.” he supposed he was glad to hear that she had good experiences with them too, the smile in her voice faintly audible. jumin did spend a lot of time camouflaged amongst them online, and he knew most didn’t approve of the extreme ones and even took the time to warn each other or sometimes the company about it, although, as he didn’t understand how people could be so openly disrespectful, he didn’t understand what motivated such people to be nice too. maybe he just doesn’t understand people, period.
he pretended to groan at mika’s comment as they arrived, “oh god, the fans remind us enough. i’ve been on twitter, it’s like going through our pre-debut pictures are part of the new fan starter pack." he barked out a laugh at mika's free cussing, "i can’t believe they really did replace it but waited until after i was gone. i told so many people about that thing,” he complained, waiting for mika before going to a line. it was fairly busy, however, the patrons seemed more concerned with each other than the two who entered the restaurant. “what’s the spiciest thing they serve here?” he squinted at the menu, should have brought his glasses. “ah, but you can’t tell anyone else, i’m supposed to hate spicy food.”
oh, cool. jumin remembers that. that’s nice. kiyeon resists the urge to put a dent into the side of the elevator in the shape of his head and hugs his jacket to his chest instead. he can be okay with this, he’s thinking. they can sit here and be quiet and wait to be rescued. they’ve been quiet for years, haven’t they? what’s twenty more minutes?
his eyes are beginning to feel heavy when jumin starts to talk. kiyeon scoffs, though it’s quiet enough to pass off as a huff of breath. he’s not trying to be difficult, but he doesn’t think he owes anything to jumin to be easy, either. “you watch braveheart’s stages?” he elects not to mention that if things had gone differently, he might have taken the job at phoenix instead; hell, maybe jumin’s stylist even wouldn’t hate his guts now if it had gone like that. he used to think about a lot of what ifs before, like a neverending game of associations prompted by the littlest things that would remind him of–
but his sister had been right. thinking really kills.
“when phoenix debuted,” he says, more to the wall than jumin, “i thought you really got kicked out like you wanted. i couldn’t imagine you singing something like that.”
jumin considers the question, what to say? a lie, the truth, or the worse truth? he shakes his head to himself, playing with the fabric over his knees. “i liked their music since they debuted. people are always asking me to do covers, but the choreography is a little past me.” seeing them around the same stage as he is on, it’s weird. when he sees how dedicated they are he is reminded again how hard people work to be here, and how many trainees would have killed to have his debut spot instead. and what is he doing with it instead?
“couldn’t believe i sold my soul to the pop devils?” he chuckles, remembering his debut. “i really almost did. but some people helped me shape up, thankfully.” thankfully.. yes, he was thankful, because he got to spend the next years with his members and realize how much he cared about them. grow a new family. he didn’t know what was wrong with him, why that couldn’t be enough, why he couldn’t be grateful and simply accept it. “i still write songs on the side. sometimes, i think i want to bring them to the recording studio, but i don’t know.” he leans his head back. lips part with a soft sigh. “not really what the producers would want to hear on the next comeback i think.” better suited for screaming into the mic, pouring out a rush of emotions. catharsis, rawness, antithesis to the curated performance pieces they put forward just like any other idol group.
he relaxes against the wall. another pipe dream. “how is your sister?” he says softly. he remembered kieun, and how worried kiyeon always got about her when they were out together. “your parents were finally agreeing to let her do art school, right?”
he’s not quite sure who to expect when the box falls. there could be no one around, and taehwi could resign himself to the universe keeping his hideaway secret in a confirmation that he could keep reading─ or take it that he should give it up.
the curtain draws back, and even in the dim lighting, half falling over his face now, he smiles up at jumin as he appears. he might be milking it just a little bit. “hyung?” he says, tilting his head a bit to the side, shutting his book with his fingers curled around the pages where he’d stopped.
“well─ you see, there was this very small amount of light that i was using, so my eyesight is something you don’t have to worry about. this time, at least.” it’s true that he’s been in less than ideal conditions to read, but it hasn’t really stopped him before. hiding places and light didn’t always come hand in hand.
taehwi shifts a bit, leaning over to try and peer over jumin’s shoulder. “is it just you?” he says, and his eyes go back and forth between the lit hallway behind him and that tiredness that lingers in his eyes, settling there for longer.
“if it is, then why don’t you come rest a bit? or. if there is our manager out there, i am certainly not encouraging our members to slack off in the slightest. and i was simply.. resting my throat for the concert.“ he clears his throat a bit, back straightening, but he still offers a smile for jumin, a soft secret.
jumin considers him with a lifted eyebrow and looks for this “light” that taehwi mentions. surely not the slit of light that was barely patting through the thick curtains. “i don’t worry about your eyesight anymore because i’m almost sure it’s too late. any day now seungho is small to have to incorporate thick prescription glasses into your looks.”
obligingly he moves to let taehwi look behind him, their manager did sic him after the fallen box, so maybe it won’t be long until someone comes looking for him. however, they have also gone over the staging so many times now, that jumin swears he can sleepwalk through everyone’s timings, not only phoenix. his eyebrow quirks again at taehwi’s blatant statement yet there’s a flicker of amusement across dark brown hues. “it would be irresponsible for me to encourage poor health habits,” he decides. “make room?” picking up the falling box and replacing it on top of a pile across from taehwi’s legs.
phoenix has been more a family than his own family practically since they debuted, but it’s easier in particular to breathe around taehwi. fostering any real friendships always felt like a pipe dream when he was young so he’s relieved that there actually is someone he can trust to have his back for things like hiding from rehearsals. “then i’ll rest my feet while you rest your throat.” pulling the curtain back, it immediately puts them in dim light. sheesh, so this was what taehwi was reading in? “what even are you reading?”
“with how chaotic everything is already, i’d say i’m probably almost there,” she told him dryly with a roll of her eyes but she still had just a hint of a smile on her lips. mika pulled her mask out of her hoodie pocket, knowing more coverage hiding her face would aid them on their way to the restaurant, and put it on. as if inside the venue was already a hectic blur wasn’t enough, some of these fansites just had to camp outside for their quick shot. mika liked some respectful ones of course — always asking about her day and remaining a decent distance but there were ones that just teetered on crossing the line.
the thought accompanied by his question and experience made a shudder run down her spine. “ah — hate to tell you but it’ll probably be worse,” she said, shaking her head as they made their way out of the venue alley and onto the sidewalk outside. “one time one of them managed to get in our apartment complex, and claimed they weren’t a sasaeng,” she snorted, the memory caused the familiar feeling of discomfort in her stomach. mika squashed it down quickly though, trying to ignore the lingering concern that was leftover. it was mostly for jumin though, hating how juniors are already experiencing crazy fans like that — she always hated how much their privacy was so toyed with. mika let her shoulders relax slightly, realizing that he was right as the fansites would most likely be more preoccupied with the idols in the venue. “no need to thank me, i think it was much needed that we have a small break,” she shrugged shyly. “you’re the one paying after all, which you don’t really need to.” she added,. mika would have to pay him back somehow if he did mean it, maybe a coffee or something. her head then snapped up to look at him properly, some recognition finally dawning on her. “that makes total sense, i knew i saw you from somewhere,” she gasped softly. “you really sprouted up, huh?”
jumin clicked his tongue at the response, “ah, i was expecting you to say that, but i’m still disappointed.” frowning at the idea of someone fully breaking into nyx’s apartment complex- did these people have any decency at all? jumin never understood how that kind of behavior ever became normalized, even expected. “has your company ever thought about pressing charges?” wishful thinking perhaps. after he left nyx’s company and his parents were deciding where to ship him off to next, he tried to tell them he wanted somewhere that wouldn’t just let the fans get away with anything. ‘but that’s a sign of their dedication, my dear,’ was his mother’s response. he shook the thought off, he wasn’t going to spend his freedom break thinking about those things.
he felt his face heat up a little when he felt her stare, and at her comment about growing. so she did remember? it was slightly surreal, particularly when there lived a few videos in his phone of him covering a few of nyx’s songs. “i wasn’t there for a lot longer after you came, but yeah i’m glad i did. i don’t know if they would have let me debut if i never got past 160cm...or maybe they would have made me the cutesy one instead,” he chuckled dryly. “how is it these days, though? have they finally fixed those vending machines on the second floor? i swear those things stole at least a hundred thousand won from me.”
mika huffed out a laugh despite herself, shrugging. “i’d say that’s a good way to describe it,” she mumbled as she pulled on her hoodie. “but yes, please — i think i’ll go crazy if i don’t get some real food,” she gestured for him to walk with her down the hallway, steps slightly more hurried so they’re not caught by any staff nearby. she kept her eyes out for any fire exits with the occasional glance at jumin to be sure he was still there and also trying to figure him out, it made her her mind wander back to its puzzled state as to where the hell she recognized him from outside of performances and music videos.
she couldn’t dwell on it further when she spotted a sign that looked like what they were looking for. “hopefully the fansites couldn’t get access to here,” she mused, pulling her hood up just in case. slowly pushing open the door just slightly, mika poked her head out. “coast is clear,” she sighed in relief, opening the door further and stepping out. “we should still be careful though, they can be sneaky when they want to be.”
“well we can’t have you going crazy before the first week of tour is even over can we?” he said cheekily as he followed her down the hallway. one thing jumin learned, people usually didn’t stop to question where he was going if he looked assertive or intimidating enough...or if they didn’t know what he looked like. for him that was easy, he just pulled his dark mask to cover the lower half of his face, he supposed only time will tell if it was going to be more challenging if someone recognized his sunbaenim.
“don’t jinx it, i know some who have climbed trees and would do it again,” he sighed. “i thought it would take us at least a few more years to attract fansites like that. tell me it gets better the older your group gets?” though his tone suggested he wasn’t optimistic about the answer. looking around as they stepped out, he was twice as careful, used to looking after his own members any time they stepped out in public. an ingrained habit that he learned from going places with his parents, from even before he debuted and became a recognizable face on his own- sometimes he truly wondered if there was ever a time he stepped out without warily scanning the street for somebody watching him. “mh, i think we’re fine now. thank you for helping me break out.” he smiled, although it was completely hidden by his mask, he appeared much more relaxed now that they were in fresh air. as they began walking out of the small alley, he glanced at mika in curiosity. “i’m choi jumin, by the way. you probably don’t remember me, but i used to train at your company.
“yeah, yeah, yeah,” dohyun waved off jumin’s warnings, “i heard you the first time.” the roommates had an interesting dynamic. one that often teetered between animosity and friendship. but if anyone could convince jumin to tag along on a late snack run, it’s dohyun. “here’s your chips,” he threw a pack of jumin’s favourite at the other without glancing back before starting to eye a box of choco pies.
“did you know they have strawberry choco pies now?” he asked, genuinely surprised and easily impressed by the slew of new flavours. he chose to grab that and a couple packs of ramen before adding a bag of popcorn when jumin mentioned the other members. “you’re buying right?” dohyun glanced back and shot him a cheeky grin as he went to grab an extra pack of ramen for safe measure. with his phone notoriously dead (battery spent on playing video games in the waiting room), jumin was their key home.
“i think that’s everything..” dohyun said as he piled all the items on the front counter for the store clerk to scan. “unless— should we get drinks too?”
three yeah’s. a ‘i heard you the first time.’ ominous indicators. “hearing is separate from listening,” jumin reminded him, reprimanding, then pulling a face at hearing his own words. shit, he was about to turn into his parents if he wasn’t careful. he fumbled to catch the chips that dohyun threw at him without dropping his phone. as a child he never had the quickest reflexes, however, dohyun was one of the main reasons he had to adapt to be quick on his feet during their training days.
“which ones are the choco pies? the ones with marshmallow?” sweets were still hard to keep track of. after putting away his phone, he joined dohyun in scanning the aisles, going through his usual decision process on what he wanted to get versus what he really needed to get. it was liberating to watch the younger just grab things with abandon, and why jumin - despite the nagging he did - never truly followed up on anything. dohyun should eat well, with things he likes.
he shot dohyun a flat look when he asked about who was paying. the manager sent one of the cards with him, but jumin wouldn’t put it past them to monitor whatever they were buying, so yes, he planned to pay to save them the lecture. dohyun can live without knowing that though. “yeah, go grab whatever else you want especially for tomorrow.” he nodded for the clerk to begin scanning the items and fished out his wallet. “just nothing too heavy, we’ll have to bring it on the train.” that seemed safer than a bus, or so he thought. he never really rode either one before, his parents preferring to drive him to places, but it couldn’t be that complicated surely.
It’s the way that Jumin says his name that causes Seungho to wrinkle his nose in distaste. For the most part, he spoke pretty casually with everyone. Just felt weird to hear. It makes him feel old when in actuality Jumin is the older of the two. “If I can give it to you then I can take it back.” he mutters, after having the jacket taken away from him. “You should be nicer to your stylists. You never know when the next ugly piece will come your way.” he jokes. “I was just leaving. I think I’ll walk home today and get some fresh air after being holed up here for what feels like forever.” An exaggeration of course but he didn’t love being stuck in one place for too long. Sometimes even mere hours felt like too much.
a dry smile at seungho’s ‘threat.’ “you and my mother would get along,” he comments amusedly. “i am just not sure you would sacrifice the completeness of the overall look just to get back at me.” a hint of mischief. once, his mother threatened she would take away his school uniform if he didn’t behave. the next morning, he was ten minutes late after she frantically spent the morning ironing it out, the family image too precious to tarnish. jumin has learned that sometimes others depend on his image even more than he does. “we’re allowed to walk home? i thought the vans were a requirement, not a friendly suggestion.” he checks his phone again for the time, it’s still not late enough to force the others to leave without him. maybe he won’t get lectured if he doesn’t try to go somewhere alone again. “you mind if i walk with you then?”
mika had finished her group’s rehearsal a couple hours ago, feeling a tad more energized than usual since she had practiced her choreos as well as some dance breaks so her blood was still pumping. her managers had nagged at her though to please, please eat and drink something, mika. she internally sighed and agreed, who is she to deny the people who kind of make her job easier.
she looked through the contents of the food box they had handed her, analyzing each and every item so deeply that she startled slightly at the voice. quickly composing herself and fixing her confused expression into an indifferent one, she looked up. oh. from always looking foward to phoenix stages, mika recognized him as a member — jumin, the one she thought was familiar but couldn’t put her finger on it. “yeah, it’s one of the reasons why they’d like us to eat inside the venue and while these boxes are a nice gesture,” she trailed off with a sigh, closing the box. “there’s gotta be side doors around this huge place,” she thought out loud, standing and looking around for any of her managers before looking back at jumin. “i saw a chicken place on the way here and it’s all i could think about for the past six hours.”
“mmh,” jumin gave a nod, sympathizing closely when she mentioned the boxed meal. “the food isn’t bad, but i feel like i’m back in a school cafeteria.” or a prison, but that isn’t a nice thing to say, and he could practically hear the combined voices of his manager and parents telling him to play nice. right, right.
as though his stomach could hear the conversation, it rumbled once mika mentions the chicken place. “god, chicken sounds so good right now,” jumin huffed and zipped his jacket up even higher. “i’m pretty sure i read that fire safety requires them to have alternate exits, so we just have to find the right fire exit signs. feel like breaking out with me?” he shoved his hands in his pockets, and glanced at mika again to gauge her interest. although he remembered her from his way past trainee days, the recognition on her face seemed more similar to how an audience might recognize him. he didn’t blame her one bit though, he shot up like a tree since he was 14. “if you show me the way there, lunch is on me,” he offered, accompanied with an almost challenging raise of his eyebrow. besides, if there were still fansites out there waiting, it would be better being able to account for each other, he figured. and less awkward than eating alone with his hood up in a booth.
there’s a lot there. talk about what? why? why now? how did jumin hope this would go? how did he think it would? kiyeon used to imagine having a conversation just like this, one where he’d finally ask every question he ever wanted and the gash in that soft thing behind his ribs would finally scab over and heal, heal. maybe he had his own hopes about how this would go too, and maybe that meant jumin isn’t the only one standing on questionable ground here, but as he watches jumin stand there and look at the buttons, kiyeon realizes that the main thing he wants to tell him is as simple as, don’t you remember how you couldn’t figure out the tv remote at my house? and that had even fewer buttons than this.
“like if they realized you could’ve actually turned out to be a bodysnatcher and maybe they shouldn’t have let just anyone in?” kiyeon says, mild. “yeah, i think they cover that in training. but i’ll text them too, just in case.”
it wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to message the front desk to be bailed out of trouble, so he’s not really worried about being left to rot. there are bigger things to think about at the moment, namely things shaped like choi jumin. when he’s done and he just has to wait for the one-bar signal to do its job, he returns to his side of the elevator and folds himself down into the corner. “i think we just have to wait now,” he advises quietly, tilting his head against the wall. jumin can do whatever he wants, he decides, but he isn’t going to encourage the migraine forming in the back of his skull anymore.
jumin lets out a light chuckle. “unless i’m remembering wrong, you always wanted them to be real, anyway.” pushing away from the buttons, he decides to take kiyeon’s word for it. he has seen the impressions that kiyeon’s styling has left, after all. he trusts that should this be a worst case scenario, kiyeon’s company would certainly look for their missing stylist.
turning, he sees kiyeon on the floor, what seems to be the position he has accepted. well, the floors look decent... grimacing slightly as he lays his bag down first before sitting on it so he doesn’t dirty his sweatpants. he checks his phone as well, seeing the unanswered messages from his manager delivered more than fifteen minutes ago. no service, so he assumes there are even more waiting to arrive once the doors open. he sighs and switches it on silent, he’s already going to have to explain other things later regardless.
again, he glances at kiyeon. the other seems tired, in ways jumin never saw on him before. he stops himself from asking how kiyeon has been doing. a safer question might be how working for braveheart is, but it kills jumin to think about asking such a small question after everything he knows about kiyeon. every weak spot he has seen of him. “you know,” speaking slowly, almost a murmur to the ceiling than an actual sentence, “when i saw the first stage you styled, i thought there was someone out there plagiarising your art. didn’t expect to see your name listed on their staffs.”
“all right, you little menace. nothing that’s going to make your face swell tomorrow or i’m going to hear about it from the stylists again,” jumin warned dohyun for the 6th time (he has been counting) that night. currently he stood with their youngest in the only convenience store within the same district as the venue that was both open for 24 hours and sold the specific brand of honey butter chips jumin liked, the only reason dohyun was able to convince him to go along with this absolutely inane idea. it was already almost eleven at night thanks to how long they took to even find this place, so there went his initial idea that they could get back to the dorm on foot too, as his gps was currently telling him that would be an hour long walk.
they were going to have to find a...cab, or something. or...jumin shuddered. a bus. “if any of the others asked you to get something, grab those too,” he said absently while he scrolled through his phone, pondering their options. he tried to think like their manager. what would i do if i had kindergartners to look after. of course dohyun was far from a child, but sometimes... well...
his jacket. kiyeon freezes at the mention of it, watching with uncertain eyes as jumin draws the jacket out of his bag. as soon as kiyeon recognizes it, he exhales a breath he thinks he’s been holding all day, leaving an empty space in his stomach for relief, relief, relief to wash in. he steps forward to accept it, and it’s when he’s reaching out to take it from jumin that he sees the bracelet sitting on his own wrist.
there’s a thin black, violet, and silver cord there, almost lost between the other colors. kiyeon remembers the moment he sat down to pick out those three in particular–it must have been five in the morning, his heart pounding from slipping back into his room through the window, hands still chilled from the night air as he fashioned the threads into a bracelet. he hasn’t put it on since the last day he saw jumin face-to-face.
kiyeon opens his mouth to explain himself, but what’s there to say? he’s not sure what possessed him to break the streak and put it back on this morning. superstition is the easy answer; there’s a harder one that he’s not willing to say. “thank you,” he says instead, quiet and earnest. he takes the jacket and folds it over his arm, covering his wrist in the process, then glances at jumin with a far more subdued look than before. “for reference, though, you could always just leave things like this with security.”
seeing kiyeon notice the bracelet, jumin isn’t sure what is worse, that kiyeon didn’t seem to remember he was wearing it or that kiyeon hides it under the jacket. neither of these things, jumin lets show on his face. the new masks he has learned to put up while they were apart serve him well.
“...i know. i guess i wanted to talk to you, too.” taking the opportunity to zip his bag up again, avoiding kiyeon’s eyes as he does. he doesn’t know what is wrong with him, he doesn’t know why saying what he means is never as simple as it can be. kiyeon never judged him. kiyeon never made him feel afraid. so jumin doesn’t know why he stood outside of the venue for half an hour before hailing a cab, nor why he needed to find so much bravery to decide to seek kiyeon out.
“i was hoping it would go better than this, though.” he sighs a little and steps closer to the buttons again, careful to avoid touching the other. “the security guard would get worried if you never make it back down, right?”
limbs already beginning to sore, voice well warmed up, jumin has been stuffed with energy all morning and now the noon time slump has arrived with a vengeance. his empty stomach certainly doesn’t make things any better, already starving again despite the big breakfast he ate that morning, and he respects the venue staff but he needs something more for lunch than their meal boxes or he doesn’t think he’s going to make it until the end of rehearsals. one problem, though- the managers were telling them that morning to be careful around the entrances, where fansites were starting to gather to take pictures. jumin would never say it out loud, but so many of them really need other jobs.
looking around, he spots a familiar face offstage, one of the nyx members. mika, he remembers hearing her name when he was still training at her company, seeing her debut and nyx’s performances garnering wins. he shrugs on a simple black jacket and zips it up so his name tag won’t give him away once he’s outside. “hey, have you heard anything about the fansites that were out there this morning?” he questions. “or do you happen to know a different way out of here other than the front or back doors?”
“i’m not panicking,” kiyeon says. there’s just this inconvenient stone growing and growing in his throat, and if he doesn’t get out now, then he’s going to throw up, that’s all. when jumin snarks about him pressing the security button, kiyeon grits his teeth and presses it too just to spite him, even though he’s not surprised at all to see it make the same pathetic blink before doing absolutely nothing. perfect.
“i really don’t know how you manage to answer a question without answering it at all.” squirming under the weight of jumin’s gaze, he backs away from the panel until his back hits the opposite wall of the elevator, just in case jumin feels like trying too. there, kiyeon folds his arms across his stomach tightly, fixing his own gaze on the corner of the elevator floor where it’s much safer to look. there are a lot of things he’s carefully bottled and stored away over the years, cultivating a collection of them in the shelves of his memory, and there are plenty he wishes he could unbottle and let out again. he doesn’t think this is one of them. “i guess you found me anyway. so what do you want?”
“of course you aren’t,” jumin agrees in a mutter. scoffing lightly when kiyeon makes a show of pressing the security button, he stays still until kiyeon completely backs away like jumin is feral wildlife he crossed on the road.
at the question, he almost makes up a lie. perhaps if kiyeon knew nothing about him like the rest, he would be able to talk his way through it, but jumin feels exposed around him. an open nerve, no matter how hard he tried to close himself back up in the after-math of their past. after a long pause, he unzips his bag and carefully brings out the denim jacket. “i found this at the venue. it. i figured that if you held onto it for this long, then you likely didn’t leave it on purpose.” he holds out the jacket, without moving from his side of the elevator. although he keeps his distance, there is no denying the softness crept into his voice.
the elevator may be stopped, but kiyeon’s heart continues to plummet. this can’t be happening. not with how well he’s been doing, not with how long it’s been since jumin even crossed his mind. “i didn’t do anything.” the words come out more sharply than kiyeon intends them to. it’s a tone he’s never heard come out of his own mouth before, but jumin’s always had some knack for showing him parts of himself he didn’t know where there, hasn’t he? he flinches at the motion jumin gives him, instead rooting himself to the ground and bidding his feet not to move so easily.
he presses the emergency button long and hard, counting the seconds until the system’s supposed to respond and hissing in frustration when it only blinks twice at him and goes dull again. “you’re the one who pressed every single floor,” he mutters. the door remains shut, the elevator remains still, and the ground remains whole.
every second feels like a paper cut. kiyeon wants out. “what are you even doing here? how’d you get past security?”
“well clearly you did something,” jumin responds dryly, his old defenses rising once he hears kiyeon’s tone. he watches kiyeon continue to abuse the button and would have just reached over anyway to press the emergency button himself if not for what he sees, familiar colors, wrapped around kiyeon’s wrist.
like that, jumin becomes silent. it is difficult - and rare - for the idol to concede that he was in the wrong for anything. kiyeon is one of the few exceptions. jumin often thinks about everything that could have gone differently if he simply...acted differently. thinks about if kiyeon thought about it too.
“don’t panic,” he tells the other quietly. “it’s probably just trying to process the fifty button presses you made in thirty seconds.” taking a small step back, like a white flag. he grips the strap of his bag tighter, running his other hand through his hair with a mute sigh. “i was looking for you,” careful words, careful choices, “security let me in, if you’re thinking about pressing the security button too. said you were up here somewhere and i could look for you myself.”
