if you thought i was losing sleep;
@danielxrk; slightly backdated but i didn’t look up the exact date
it’s taken no less than two weeks for woong to start to get used to staying in someone else’s home. it’s been fourteen nights of tossing and turning, not yet used to the new nighttime sounds heard from the futon in daniel’s living room. woong can’t call this place his home, not when every time he enters the door he still feels like he should be ringing the buzzer instead of punching in a passcode and entering as he pleases. it was incredibly kind of daniel to allow him to stay here during the strange in-between time since his stepfather asked him to move out and not yet having the means to truly support himself on his own. woong can’t help but be haunted by a vague sense of ungratefulness whenever discomfort hits him here. and yet he can’t seem to keep it from happening.
a particularly loud (at least to woong’s unfamiliar ears) noise from the window wakes him from his sleep. it doesn’t startle him awake, not exactly, but his eyes do slowly blink open. he rolls over to grab his phone. 1:58 am. he lets out a low grumble to himself, and pulls the blanket over his head. after what feels like an eternity of laying there and listening to alien sounds, woong looks at his phone again. 2:19am. the groan he lets out this time is a little bit louder and a little bit longer. it’s not the first time he’s experienced this; any hope of getting more sleep is thrown away, at least for now, and he kicks his blanket off to sit up on the futon. he has to pee.
only on his way back to the couch from the bathroom does he realize that there’s a dim light coming from the kitchen. woong knows better than to assume an intruder; it’s daniel, probably trying to be considerate of his supposedly sleeping guest. woong can already guess why he’s awake. if it isn’t homework, it’s anticipation for his trip tomorrow. he’s already heard all about it. a music video shot in busan, daniel chosen out of all the sphere trainees to make an appearance in it. woong didn’t have to pretend to be happy for him. it was easy this time.
instead of going back to bed, he tiptoes into the kitchen area, confirming his suspicions that daniel is there and far too awake for this hour of the night. he’s quiet when he approaches, pausing for a moment just to assess before making his presence known.
“can’t sleep?” he already knows the answer, but what else does one say at this time? woong slips into a seat across from daniel, folding his arms on the table and pillowing his head on top of them as if he were more tired than he’s currently feeling. “you better be able to sleep the whole way to busan tomorrow. don’t want to make your sphere music video debut with bags under your eyes.”
he studies daniel’s face instead of saying anything else, gauging the emotion and reaction he can find there. maybe he doesn’t want any company right now, maybe he’d rather be left alone with his nerves. woong would understand, he’s too often the same way. but if he knows daniel, which he thinks he does, he’d say that his friend would prefer company to solitude in times like these. he can only assume that any amount of anxiety that comes from what’s promised to happen can only be the good kind, the bubbly sensation that fizzes over and has to be shared with anyone who will listen. well, woong can listen. he’d almost say he’s happy to, at least when it comes to daniel.
daniel is nervous. well, excited. well, both? both is probably most accurate. aside from that, daniel is also busy. he hasn’t even bothered trying to go to bed yet, too occupied between schoolwork and his fretting to consider it much when he knows sleep likely won’t come. daniel makes the best of the time he has, but naturally, once he has his economics text book open, he starts dozing off.
he just wants to get through this one chapter of his readings, then he can go to sleep. well, hopefully he can go to sleep. his thoughts are a little distracting. he’s going to be in a music video. kang daniel, sphere trainee-- kang daniel of the mgas-- kang daniel of empty enigma. in a music video. it’s not just any video, but it’s his friend’s music video too, all an experience he’s impossibly grateful for.
but he’s worried. he wasn’t the most well-received contestant on the mgas, and some of their audience saw straight through him and his plan to join just to get empty enigma more exposure. surely they all outgrew that stigma, however, with both of them becoming trainees through the show, and daniel a trainee now. anyone that watches yena’s music video will know he’s a sphere trainee. he will be under their watchful eye and judgment. maybe they’ll wonder why.
sometimes daniel still wonders too: why am i a trainee when i’m best suited for a band? do i have any place dancing? do i have any place here? do i deserve this opportunity over trainees that are so certain of their dreams?
he tries not to think about it. instead, he tries to fill his mind with supply and demand instead of anxiety. of course, it’s easier said than done.
woong comes as a good distraction. daniel looks up from the textbook he was staring blankly at to smile at him softly before laughing a little. “ah, they have people for that, don’t you know? trainees permanently have bags under their eyes. it’s a job requirement.” it’s a joke, but not as much as he wishes it was. daniel is good at running on empty, but even he feels exhausted by the time he can sleep in on saturday and sunday.
“i’ll manage,” he assures woong, in case he actually worries for him. he looks back at his readings then. “i’m trying to study,” he sighs. “soon...soon it’ll all be over.” he graduates this year. he isn’t quite sure what he’ll do then, free from his mother’s grasp and demands, able to make his own decisions entirely for himself. does he give his all to music instead? he’s a trainee; that’s the normal decision, right? especially once he’s in a music video. something about it makes it feel like there’s no turning back.