shit show

Maybe it's a memory or I read it in a magazine, but I swear I see your faces staring up at me. Maybe this song is self-aware and I'm singing here, and you're standing there waiting for the show to go on. Honestly, it's a shit show, my God, but it's this show, I want to be there.

[cvetus]

🪐

MUN INFO

name/alias: min age: 18+ pronouns: she/her timezone: gmt discord: yes, just ask me! little trivia fact about yourself: i’ve been bingeing crappy chick flicks for the past couple of days and i’m actually enjoying it

CHARACTER INFO

character name: hwang yena age: 26 zodiac sign: sagittarius sun, capricorn moon, leo rising group/band/position: RITZ_03 info links or quick points about your character: STATS & BIO

born and bred in seoul, south korea

oldest daughter hence the incessant need to be the very best 

smart and blunt by nature, but incredibly good with her words (both spoken and written) especially when she’s trying to convince you or when she’s doing what she does best aka writing

was a philosophy major in college, currently writing for RiTZ magazine

ambitious, driven, wants nothing more than to be successful in her field

also an extreme workaholic, will put her work before you 

would do anything to get an exclusive feature, interview, whatever that will get her name on the radar (even if it means breaking your heart)

is it a coincidence her exes are all in the music scene? she has dated people just to get material on them for RiTZ, but the idealist in her also enjoys having a lover that makes music lol

often struggles with deciding whether she should listen to her mind or heart, but has a track record of choosing the former (would like to see someone influence her to do the latter though)

not the nicest person in the room but will pretend to be if she gets what she wants

basically a bitch but also a very charming one

plots or any development you’d like to see for your character:

001 / All she wanted was an exposé, a breakthrough, something to get her name on the radar. MUSE gave her want she wanted, but at the expense of their own heart. Long story short, she only dated them because RiTZ wanted an exclusive with them, and she was determined to be the first to get it, regardless of the hearts she has to trample on her way. (Muse has to be in the scene for awhile. They dated/were flings when she was just starting out at RiTZ, probably somewhere between 2018-2019.)

002 / You'd think someone like Yena wouldn't have problems getting a feature with anyone. She's charming, intelligent and incredibly good with her words, could probably convince anyone in the room—except MUSE. This might just be the biggest challenge of her writing career but Yena's no quitter. She won't stop at anything, not until she gets the story she's pining after. Unfortunately for her, it seems like MUSE plans to make her work for it too. (Muse has to be at the peak of their career, probably 4 stars or more.)

003 / New meat. That's what MUSE is to her. An up and coming star she has her eyes on, the protagonist of her next feature that will set the scene by storm. MUSE could be eager to give her what she wants (after all, it'll do them good to get some exposure), or they could be hiding something they don't want her to find out (usually, this intrigues her even more). (Muse has to be new to the scene.)

004 / The one ex that mattered. It started out the same way: she approached MUSE only to find out more about them, get some material for the magazine and maybe fuel the idealist in her by dating a musician. Except, it didn't end there. It should've, but this time, she couldn't bear to leave first. God forbid she actually fell in love—it's something she's still in denial about to this day. Regardless, it did not end well. MUSE found out about why she approached them in the first place and the rest is history. (Angst, angst and a lot of angst. Put simply: messy breakup, leftover feelings, and love turned hatred.)

005 / Yena thinks she's got MUSE wrapped around her finger. What she doesn't know is, they are using her just as she is using them. Both of them want the same thing—an exclusive with RiTZ. MUSE wants a piece that would put them in good light, but as long as Yena is concerned, where's the fun in that? A tale of mutual manipulation, neither stopping until they get what they want. (More details need to be fleshed out with mun.)

006 / A character like Yena's isn't loved by many. MUSE happens to be one of them. However, they know a good feature by her will do their career wonders. This leaves them in a moral dilemma—to do as they wish with no regards for what she thinks (and the thousands who will read it), or to swallow their pride and get on her good side? (Envisioning a lot snake energy for this, could also take a positive turn.)

007 / Yena and MUSE met as strangers on the dance floor, hooked up and never saw each other again. Years later, they meet again. Except this time, Yena's interviewing them for a feature with RiTZ. It might be a little late but at least they'll learn other's name this time. (Could've happened somewhere between 2014-2017.)

008 / Yena is brutal in her writing. Two reasons: she believes her readers deserve nothing but the truth and well, she’s a bitch. MUSE and/or their music was the subject of her latest critique piece. How they took it was the least of her concerns, but it could end two ways: 1) they took it personally or 2) brushed it off without a care. Either way, she has her eyes on their next release. Will they prove her wrong and earn a spot in her monthly recommendations, or will they simply give her another opportunity to say “I told you so”? (Yena’s a bitch and you’re welcome to hate on her.)

MORE IDEAS:

a best friend, partner-in-crime, someone that can tolerate her and maybe tell her she needs to chill 

enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies; both are extremely characteristic of her

enemies to friends work too, it’s just a yena thing to start off on the wrong foot with most people

the total opposite of her, someone that can teach her how to ditch work sometimes and have fun (she used to be pretty good at that, before her career took over her life) aka an intervention program she needs pronto

RiTZ folks: she can either be the best person to work with or the worst, you decide

neighbours: she rented a studio apartment near hongdae, close enough to where the magic happens

someone who is a fan of her work, it’s only been three years since she started writing for RiTZ but your muse likes the blunt, authentic and devil-may-care attitude she has

[cvetus]

sunneburn​:

( ... )

“happy birthday.” he glances around to see if she’s with anyone, even though he hasn’t spotted anyone all evening. the sidewalk is deserted. sungbin’s friends are probably expecting him back, but he can text. “so, how are we celebrating?”

Maybe it’s because it’s nearing the end of the year, many shows are getting scheduled for these two months. Or maybe it’s because winter is here and the club’s a good a place to keep warm. Either way, it only means one thing: Yena’s getting busier. It’s both a good and bad thing altogether; good because it keeps her busy and distracts her from the fact that she’s always spending the holidays alone, and bad because now everyone else knows that too. It eats at her pride sometimes, but she’s got a lot of that to spare so, it doesn’t kill her as much anymore, to be working when everyone else is spending their day with their loved ones. Another thing she shouldn’t have gotten used to. Too late.

That explains why Sungbin’s greeting took her by surprise. Again? There hasn’t been any shows at this club the past month, she’s certain she hasn’t been anywhere near here, at least not before the last time she ran into him a month ago. Before she can question him, he whips out his phone and shows her a countdown. That’s when it hits her. Again, as in, exactly a year ago, when they met for the first time at this club. She bursts into a laugh, still in disbelief, but quickly composes herself when she notices the countdown reaching its final ten seconds. “Oh my god, happy birthday.”

The clock strikes twelve and the few seconds left of his birthday went by, the night spilling over into hers. “Thank you.” She smiles wanly. It’s a bittersweet feeling, a sense of nostalgia and sadness combined, knowing that a year’s already went by and nothing has changed. She’s still working on the night before her birthday; still so busy she doesn’t even realise it was her birthday. But it’s also thanks to the incorrigible workaholic in her that brought Sungbin into her life, and vice versa. If not for her putting work over everything else, she might not have showed up here on the night of the 24th last year, in hopes of bagging an interview with CTRL’s frontman. Speaking of which, she still hasn’t gotten.

“You know what this means? You are officially the person I’ve spent the longest time chasing for an interview. Congrats.” She remarks pertly, but doesn’t pursue it. Not tonight, not when he’s offering to celebrate with her again. Her smile grows but she tries not to make it obvious, relishing in the revelation that he doesn’t hate being around her. Quite the contrary, if he’s asking for a repeat of last year’s events. At least she knows the feeling’s mutual. “Are you sure? Don’t you have people waiting for you back there?” It was his birthday, after all. Sungbin might not be the biggest people person she knows but at least he spends his birthday like a normal person. Something she should learn from. 

“There’s something I want, though.” Her eyes light up at the flashback of last year’s memory. “You know that cake you bought last year? I can’t seem to remember the bakery, it’s hidden along some alley, right?” The details are vague but she distinctly remembers how the cake melted in her mouth. It was nothing fancy, just a simple cream cake from some cheap bakery lodged between a bar and a coffee shop, but it was exactly what a birthday cake should taste like. “I want some of that again.”

[cvetus]

ashfxlling​:

( ... )

the intro bars of the last song come on, earning a welcome reaction from the crowd, but he frantically cuts the audio off. “woah, woah, woah,” he exclaims, waving his arms in the air, much to the crowd’s confusion and entertainment. because what artist cuts off his own hit song at the end of a set? “let’s do another one. something fresh. do we have the new song on hand? penciled in to drop next week, but we can do a little spoiler for my good friends here tonight. we can make it our little secret,” he proposes with a shameless wink at the end. as if it’s possible to keep a secret with hundreds of other people, phones in hand and full-on recording. “i’m not kidding,” he re-iterates, the showy playfulness in his voice fully gone for a split second. at last, his eyes lock onto hers and truthfully? he regrets it dearly and lives for it, all at once. “put it on.” the audio comes back with a brand new tune.

There’s a question Yena likes to ask herself: what does she like so much about Im Hyunwoo? It’s certainly not just that pretty face—it takes a lot more than that to stay on her mind. Is it his apparent lack of law and order; doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants to? (There was something about the way he kissed her whenever he wanted to; paid no heed to where they were or who they were with. Gave her butterflies, lots of them.) Or is it because he was the first person that made her want to knock off work early instead of always being the last to leave? Like there was something she actually likes more than her job? It was scary yet exciting at the same time, to think that she could like someone that much.

Not that any of that matters anymore. He is a fragment of her past, no doubt one that keeps finding its way back to her, and she has always struggled with ignoring him. It was simply impossible, to disregard a presence so strong and compelling, just like how he is tonight. It’s exceptionally evident when he’s standing onstage; lights hitting him in all the right places, all eyes in the room focused on him. She’s not sure if she’s ever told him this but she thinks he’s made for the stage. Maybe that’s what she should tell herself, to just focus on his music and ignore everything else—just like what she always does at these shows. It’s really that simple, isn’t it? 

Except, it’s not. It wasn’t nearly as difficult to control her mind; tell it to think what she wants it to think. In other words, focus on the musicality of his performances. Ignore everything else. Do her job. But when it came to controlling her heart? That, she still hasn’t mastered, and is unsure if she ever will. Sometimes, it feels like it has a life on its own, a personality more fiery and stubborn than hers. Is that why it burns, watching him from a distance, knowing she likes it best when she was in his arms? 

Remember that bit about him doing whatever he wants? Well, it seems like he hasn’t changed one bit. Like every other confused member of the audience, Yena cocks a brow, waiting for him to explain the sudden interruption. This is the part where the writer in her should celebrate—the reveal of a new song before its official release? And she gets dibs on this exclusive information? She should be ecstatic, really. But she isn’t sure about who she is here as tonight, a writer for RiTZ or his ex-girlfriend who isn’t the least bit over him? The audience cheers while she swallows, praying it’s not a song about a new flame. 

Before she could spiral into her newfound worry, their eyes meet. It was the first time that night, she knows because she never took her eyes off him. It feels like the air got knocked out of her; just one gaze from him was all it took. She inhales sharply, a desperate attempt at composing herself and pretending like he no longer had any effect on her, willing herself to look away but failing so terribly. With eyes still locked onto his, the first bars of the unfamiliar song fills the room. It’s hard to focus when he was looking at her like that; a deadly distraction from her task at hand. It gets worse when he starts to sing, his gaze glued onto her like he was searing his soul into her; like she was the only one in the room. The song plays out into its first verse, and she’s not sure if what she felt next was relief, or horror, but she thinks this song is about her. 

[cvetus]

n0vacaine​:

( ... )

her voice is just as sweet as the day she left him, her gaze as captivating, and her beauty as stalling. seoyun will never not appreciate her in some nagging, absolutely romantic way, a lingering longing he’ll never understand. he can never blame anyone for things they did in the past, even if it seems they’ve never changed. and in the end, seoyun was left mostly unscathed, except maybe for a bruise on his pride, so he doesn’t blame her, doesn’t hate her, and he’s sure he never will. 

seoyun waits for her to turn around, the smile still on his face and when her eyes find his and he sees that note of recognition appear, he breathes out a small laugh. “yena,” he says, her name in his mouth sounding like a sigh. “how are you?” 

( @cvetus )

There are a lot of things Yena’s done that she’s not the proudest of, but very few she would take back. Sure, she has her fair share of reckless moments and bad decisions spurred on by the heat of the moment, but she likes to believe that everything in life happens for a reason. It’s both her tendency to romanticise the dips of life and her habit to hold herself accountable for everything she does. There’s one particular incident that tops that list, something she doesn’t ever let herself forget (it’s hard to, when she’s gotten to where she is today because of that, because of him). How she feels about it is a complex amalgamation of guilt and contrite, but again, no regret. Not even an ounce of it. It’s what makes the guilt feel a lot heavier. 

She betrayed him, took him lightly when he bared his soul to her, and worst of all? She broke his heart. It’s really not her proudest moment, but she knows she wouldn’t be where she is today if she hadn’t done what she did. She was just a freelance writer with an unstable monthly salary; she needed something to secure her a full-time position. She had to go big or go home, and home was not an option, not when she defiantly walked out the door with utter confidence that she would make a career out of her dreams. Her parents weren’t convinced, of course. What could she do with a degree in Philosophy and a freelance job she could lose any moment? This was not the life they wanted for their bright little girl. 

Needless to say, Yena proved them wrong, but at the expense of someone who wanted nothing but the best for her. It would make it a lot easier if he had just hated her, chased her out of his place and wanted nothing else to do with her—at least, this was what she had rehearsed in her mind before the article went live. Except, things didn’t play out the way she had expectedly them to. It was hard to live with herself when she realised he didn’t blame her for what she did. She wished he did though; she wished he had lashed out at her and told her he never wanted to see her again—at least she could’ve let go of some guilt. Selfish, but typical Yena.

The exact order of priorities in Yena’s life goes like this: 1) Her job 2) Herself 3) The few people she cares about. It explains a lot, why she is the way she is, and why she’s pretending she had not seen him from her peripheral vision. Business comes first, it always does. But this time, she’s actually thankful to be stuck in this conversation with the event organiser. She stopped listening five minutes ago (it’s hard not to, especially when she can feel him getting closer), but she has no plans to drop the act. Anything to distract her from the reminder of her own mistakes (she’s still not sure if that’s a good word for it).

Panic struck her when the event organiser was summoned backstage, excusing himself and leaving her to her own devices. That’s not good, considering how she was now left alone with him. It’s been years now but she knows neither of them forgot about what happened. Of course she hopes he does, but she knows him better than that. It scares her sometimes, when she realises that he might never forget her. Both the good and the bad. But that’s what you get, for playing with someone’s heart. 

Yena knows she has to face him eventually (because it’s low, even for her, to act like she didn’t see him an arm’s length away from her), and the sooner she faces it, the faster it’ll be over, right? Well, here goes nothing. “Hey.” She attempts a smile. A little stiff but there’s an improvement from the last time they ran into each other. “I didn’t realise you were here.” She did. Fifteen minutes ago. “I’m... I’m good.” Is it okay to tell him she’s doing well? (Is she, though?) Or would he be better off thinking otherwise? “What about you? What are you doing here, anyway?”

[cvetus]

Fallacy ft. @diegezis

When you first meet Yena, there are two things you can tell about her from the get-go: 1) She’s not the friendliest person in the room. 2) She loves her job. It’s everything she loves combined: music, culture, fashion and writing. Not to mention all the shows she gets to attend and all the CDs that get sent to her office; it’s quite the dream, really. Well, at least, it is twenty year old Yena’s dream.

Dream job or not, it’s no debate that every job comes with its downsides, and in Yena’s case, it’s the long hours and late nights. That’s what you get for writing about the underground music scene for a living, you practically work through the night. Which is why the toughest part of work events is powering through the end, when she’s dead beat, socially drained, and wants nothing more than to head home, run a bath and hop into bed. (First priority goes to getting these heels off, though.)

That and having to deal with her colleague that happens to take pleasure in her demise. Again, it’s usually at the end of these events when colleagues bid farewell and part ways, go home and leave each other alone. Unfortunately for her, said colleague also happens to be her goddamn next-door neighbour, with both of their apartments (or specifically, bathrooms) separated with a thin wall that does absolutely nothing for them when it comes to blocking out noise. She’d know because she hears everything from his apartment, from the crappy music he blasts all day (okay, it’s not all that crappy, but he doesn’t need to know that), to his unwelcome singing in the shower (this she can’t defend—it is crappy).

Point is, she doesn’t get to do the whole saying goodbye and hopping into separate cabs thing. When HR found out they were neighbours, they were told to share a cab when they get home from events since it’ll save the company the extra cab fee. She begrudging agreed to it since there was no reason for her to say no. It’s not like she can tell them that she wants nothing to do with him after work. Even if she only gets ten minutes away from him before they end up meeting at the lobby and taking the same elevator up, (yes, it has happened), she’d still take those ten minutes and count her blessings. 

Instead, she’s stuck out here in the cold with him, waiting for their car, desperately willing the minutes to go by quicker. Truthfully, it’s not that bad being around him (after all, human beings do get used to pain if they’re put through it for prolonged periods of time), but that’s not something he has to know either. Besides, it became a habit, like it’s a natural instinct to wear a scowl on her face whenever she was with him. (She’s not actually pissed off, she just tends to look like she is.) At least it’s not awkward. How could it be if they spend every minute together bickering like Tom and Jerry? There weren’t even enough pockets of silence, let alone awkward silences. This, she’s thankful for.

“How long is it going to take? My feet are starting to hurt and I’m getting tired of you. Please tell me the driver is in the vicinity.”

[cvetus]

munshine​:

( ... )

“I guess I don’t really know you much either.” he concedes before he swallows down the rest of that drink. He knows Yena like he knows a lot of people; what she likes to eat, her favorite club, and who she says her favorite musicians are. Dig down deep toward anything that might matter and that’s a different story. Moon doesn’t really want her digging around at his feet either though, isn’t looking to make himself a willing body to topple backward into some manmade career-grave of a shock-article. He does her the decency of doing the same. 

“I guess that’s what makes everything fun, right? Nobody reads as nice once you really get to know them.”

(He orders another anyway).

Call it old school but Yena always brings around this notebook, one where she jots down all her ideas and bits of information gathered here and there. Most artistes in the scene have their own honorary page, some filled with messy scribbles from one end to the other, others left empty, waiting to be filled. Kang Moon falls into the latter category. Page seven of her notebook is dedicated to him; blank for the most part, with just one big question mark right smack in the middle of the page. There’s even a tiny hole where the dot of the question mark should be, punctured by her on one of those nights she was hit with a writer’s block and the reminder that she was nowhere near her end goal. 

She can’t remember the last time she’s flipped to that page. Was it two months ago? Three? Doesn’t mean she’s forgotten about it, though. The big question mark never left her mind, she just tends to get distracted in certain situations, namely, when she’s having fun, and oddly enough, that happens to be every time she meets Moon. If this is his way of sabotaging her plans then it’s working, but even Yena can tell that Moon is having fun himself. Sometimes, it even feels like they’ve became friends. Weird. 

“Does it matter?” She snorts, amused. She likes tipsy Moon, he tends to blabber off about all kinds of nonsense and it oddly entertains her. “I didn’t know most people in college, or high school,” she slurs before taking a sip of the drink in her hand, “or some of the guys I hooked up with.” This part, she whispered. “But I still had fun. Like you did, tonight.” He never told her he did, but she could tell. They always have fun. 

His next point is valid. They don’t know each other that well, or at least, not in the way Yena hopes to know him. Aside from the occasional frustration (and dispirited notebook-doodling) whenever she gets reminded of the unwritten article about Moon sitting in her laptop, she doesn’t hate the way things are between them.  

“You don’t need to know me.” Frankly, there’s nothing else he ought to know about her. Yena makes it a point to show people the things she wants known about her, things like, how good she is at her job, what kind of flowers she likes (usually in the presence of a guy she likes), and whether she likes you or not (this, she rarely ever hides). Everything else she keeps out of sight is hidden for a reason and thankfully, most people just don’t bother digging into it. The whole digging thing is her job, anyway. 

“I, on the other hand, would love to know more about you.” She giggles like she didn’t mean it, but it’s only half a joke. It still stands, always has and always will, her innate desire to uncover all things Kang Moon. Maybe find the reason behind this frustrating enigma that she’s convinced is keeping something hidden.

“Unless... you’ve got a secret?” (She’s hoping he does.)

[cvetus]

Wildfire ft. @ashfxlling

Yena’s a professional. Never missed a deadline, always limits herself to no more than one serving of alcohol at work events. It’s something she takes pride in, makes her feel a little better about herself, like she’s got her shit together, y’know? It was tough at first, something about being at a club without alcohol feels almost illegal, but she’s gotten used to it by now. Could even walk by the bar without giving it a second glance—not until tonight, at least.

Tonight is... a nightmare. Yes, it’s like every other event she’s been to: there’s music, people that make music and people that are here for the music. She’s done this a hundred times before, it really shouldn’t be this much of a problem. Except for the fact that her ex-boyfriend is headlining the show, and to make matters a lot worse, she was assigned an interview with him after the show. 

She can’t say that she’s tried getting out of it, a weak attempt maybe, but she’ll be lying if she said she didn’t want to show up in front of him again, see if he still gets nervous around her (despite him insisting that he never gets nervous), maybe butcher a note on stage and embarrass himself in front of all his hare-brained fans? Hah, fat hope. Knowing him, he’d probably thrive on the very fact that she’s watching somewhere in the crowd. Might even flirt with a fan offstage. Ugh. 

Putting all these factors together, it’s hard not to convince herself that she’ll need to down at least three shots to get through the show, and maybe one more right before the interview. How else is she going to watch him prance around on stage like he is the hottest shit in the room (he probably is), eye fucking every girl offstage like they were gonna get a chance with him? It’s already bad enough seeing him stand there with that obnoxious smirk, wait until he opens his mouth and actually starts singing with that voice. Also, did he do something to his hair because it looks pretty darn sexy—okay, she’s going to need another glass. 

“Tequila, please.” It’s her second one tonight, which also means she broke her rule, but is that even surprising anymore? It certainly isn’t her first time breaking rules because of him. Sometimes, she’s convinced it’s his very own superpower, to make her feel things she’s never felt before, or act in a way that is uncharacteristic of her. Judging by the feminine-sounding screams that fill the room, she reckons she’s not the only one that has been personally victimised by him and his aforementioned superpowers. How comforting.

She would’ve gone for a third glass if his sickeningly sweet voice hadn’t boomed from the speakers, commanding her (and every other person’s) attention back on stage, where he basked beneath the stage lights like they were made for him. That’s something that really gets on her nerves (besides that annoyingly charming grin she wishes she could wipe off his face)—the way everything seems to revolve around him, like he is the center of her world. Probably is. Was. Okay, a third glass would be great. 

[bnbgs]

HAN SO HEE ph by Kim Hee June for ‘ALICE’ in Lucky Chouette (2021)