“i can count the number of times i’ve seen you on one hand.” the look she gives her childhood friend is equal parts annoyed and reproaching, feigned on all accounts. yerin could hardly fault minhee for being missing in action when polaris is at the height of their career, getting milked dry at the cost of the group’s sanity and health. she didn’t envy them their fame and success. far be it for candy to ever reach their level, she could hardly imagine what little time she’d get to have for herself, how much more of her privacy she’d need to squander for herself away from keyboard warriors eager to expose anything and everything on a whim.
yerin sighs, shaking her head as she flipped idly through the menu. “going to hold you to it. you know me — i’ll never say no to free food.” of course, it’ll be their little secret. she couldn’t exactly indulge like she wanted, especially when candy’s comeback was right around the corner. although, getting spoiled once in a while wouldn’t hurt, right? mind made up, she closes the menu, having decided to let minhee pick. it was her first time here, after all. she trusted her friend wouldn’t lead her astray. “surprise me. i’m in the mood for something spicy.”
"you're saying it like i make my schedule and choose to spend half the time im awake up in the air." minhee says, waving at the ceiling to make his point obvious. there is no malice in his voice, because he has heard that line one too many times and honestly he isn't upset. polaris was at their highest high, it was normal that their company wanted to capitalize as much as possible. they just had to suck it up.
"free food is always the best i agree." he simply says, following yerin's steps in looking through the menu. it felt oddly familiar yet new he wasn't entirely sure what he should even order. "spicy?" he clicks his tongue, nose scrunching. he hasn't had proper spicy food in ages, he isn't sure he can handle it, but hey, doesn't hurt to try? "tteokbokki and buldak?"minhee asks as he raises his gaze from the menu.
he hates the look minhee gives him. he’s come face to face with it before, many a time from many a person, but it’d become a near constant in the faces of those around him two or three years ago. he’s not that person anymore, so why is he still being looked at like that?
he’s not that person anymore.
the muscles in his shoulders coil and his chest grows heavy with the need to fight back. bile rises in his throat like it can dissipate the burn of minhee’s expression. the acid fails to even fray the edges and comes up in a barely-restrained hiss out of his lips instead.
“so you’ve thrown out all of your artistic integrity because it’s your job? i guess that’s your right, but my backbone doesn’t have to shrivel up and die just because yours has.” he’s incredulous. minhee’s talking like music isn’t the very thing they’ve given almost the entirety of the last decade plus of their lives to. countless hours sweating and bleeding and dancing until they were practically dry-heaving, recording music until their bodies ached. the strings of sentimental attachment to polaris and the others members have frayed to near breaking for ash, but he’d given every single part of him to music time and time again until there’d been nothing left and then resurrected himself for the sheer sake of continuing to feed its hunger.
he’s impressed by his own willpower that he doesn’t roll his eyes. does minhee even know how hypocritical he’s being? suddenly the details of their job mean a whole lot when it’s a matter of convenience instead of having a spine. “do you even hear yourself?”
minhee is extremely quickly reminded why he doesn't interact with taeyong when there are no cameras rolling. because they couldn't act civil even if they wanted to.
the question that falls past the younger's lips is filled with venom minhee doesn't want to deal with. he doesn't think he deserves to be questioned. he's found a way to cope through other means, to be happy with what he does for both polaris and other groups. a balance that taeyong has obviously failed to find. despite being ever so slightly taken back, shown by only a raise of an eyebrow, he doesn't really get angry. he doesn't get riled up as easily. unlike some other people.
he parts his lips to speak, ready to attack, but instead, he takes a breath, a deep one, holds it in. lets go.
"okay." he replies, no malice or anger lingering anymore. some people change, he really hoped ash would have changed over the years. petty words weren't enough to get minhee angry anymore. "if you are going to attack me and belittle me, do better. our solo stans do a better job at that than you ever could." he relaxes his posture, obviously okay with his words and his position. he isn't sure if that would get their main producer and lyricist to let go, or if he was like an attack dog, teeth deep and refusing to let go despite being told to do so. it wasn't minhee's job to keep ash in check, so he didn't care, at least not right about now.
however, ash does strike a nerve "just because you are fucking miserable doesn't mean i have to be." he snaps back, voice louder than he intends and he can't help but look at the staff whose heads snap at them.
concerts were nothing new to hyojung. at this point in her career, nothing really was, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t any less excited. if there was one thing selene was known for, it was their performances. despite being busy with filming and all that, she made sure to dedicate whatever time she had to put on the best concert because being busy was no excuse for putting on a lacking performance.
when the first day of their concert is over and they’re headed backstage with the staff giving them a round of applause, hyojung can’t help but think she could have done a better job. although it’s just a promise to herself, she swears she’ll put more of herself on stage tomorrow.
just as she’s making this silent promise, she spots a familiar face in the hallway. breaking out from the staff members who have surrounded her, she makes her way toward minhee, greeting him with a slight wave of her fingers. “did you come to check up on how well i’ll pull off the hairography of gogobebe?” she says rather teasingly before ruffling the bottom of her still-bobbed hair. it’s grown out quite a bit, but it was still rather short since she’s still fiming. “i think i did a nice job with the amount of hair i have right now.”
this was his second gold star concert this year and it was just as good as the first one. it was so refreshing, to go to friend's concerts, and scream lyrics at the top of his lungs. how could he not enjoy himself when people were putting insane performances and shows? he felt more excited about platinum and selene's concerts than their own at this point in time. how could he not?
minhee is not exactly ushered backstage, but he kind of is, the staff insisting he should go and see his colleagues and friends and he doesn't argue. holding the selene lightstick in hand, he can't help but wave it at hyojung when she sees her down the corridor, smile wide on his lips. he loved going to other people's concerts so much...
"yes, and you pulled it perfectly!" he says, nodding his head in a firm agreement. "thank you for the invite again, please invite me to any other concerts you hold!" he adds, bowing politely to hyojung "i will make sure to have worked on at least one song of your future album, so you know, have a good reason to have me again." minhee teases a bit, shooting a playful wink at the other.
❝ i got the moonlight, tequila sunrise
ha, come take a shot on me, i got ya
open, april 4th, some restaurant in central seoul
“i also can not believe i will be in seoul for quite a while.” minhee laughs out, smile pulling wide on his lips. what did he even expect? really, what did he? it had been so long since polaris had been flying in and out of seoul, it was hard to schedule anything of substance. meeting up for a quick hi and bye wasn’t minhee’s thing. he needed to sit down, have a meal, have a drink, chat to their hearts content.
either way, he fixes his glasses and leans back into the seat, smile still tugging politely on his features. “i’m going to be here for a while, so we should make this a regular thing just how it used to be back in the day.” a nod follows, as if he won’t take no for an answer. things have changed quite a bit over the past few years, but if minhee is able to mend whatever relationships and friendship he’s had before polaris’s huge internation break, then he would be his absolute best. “also, this is my treat, since i was gone for such a long time, you know.”
ash has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at minhee’s response and it’s only the sheer will not to start a fight in the middle of their practice room that keep his gaze firmly in one spot. he tries for a smile against everything he’s thinking, but it comes off so unbelievably strained it would have been better not to do anything.
well, if he’s failed already, there’s no point in pretending.
“you’re joking, right? our bills are paid for years. isn’t that when we should be releasing risky, meaningful music more than ever? if we were ten years into our career and doing nothing more than leeching money out of dimensions’ budget and working part time jobs to keep food on our table, sure, i’d get it. what unpaid bills do you have at this point that are worth shitting on the entire value of everything we’ve worked for?”
ash still keeps from raising his voice as he hovers near the couch, but now it’s more noticeably forceful and strained in spite of the volume. he should really just ignore minhee’s apparent indifference, but his laissez-faire approach is too baffling for it not to pinch just the wrong nerve. “ staying in seoul doesn’t mean much when the outcome is the same.”
very suddenly, minhee remembers why he didn't speak with ash much.. at all really. the look he gives the younger when he ask him if he is being serious is one well beyond disappointment. at times minhee wonders where he went right and got out of his rut, and ash didn't. was he also this insufferable back in the day? probably. there is a sigh that leaves him, shoulder dropping as he listens to the other speak, about things minhee really couldn't care less.
"it's out job." he states, there is a hint his voice that this shouldn't be a conversation they should be having, but he does extremely well to keep his tone leveled. it's obvious he actually takes time to collect his words, not speaking his mind fully because the last thing he needs right about now is to cause a scene in front of everyone. he can already feel a few pairs of eyes on them, he doesn't need more. "i don't like half of the things i do, taeyong. i just learned to suck it up and move on. there was never a promise of freedom when we debuted." it comes out from in between gritted teeth, the whole thing because minhee hasn't admitted that specific thought out loud before. he worries that whatever he thinks is spoken, it turns true. he had honestly forgotten how quickly ash could light up his fuse.
"staying in seoul means so much more to me than you would care to even try and understand." he shuts his mouth quicker than he needs to, forcing his shoulders to relax because he felt the tension that build up all of a sudden. misery loves company, but minhee wasn't ready to indulge.
it might be dramatic to say something had shifted the moment dimensions entertainment had revealed dynamite to ash, but it certainly doesn’t feel like an overstatement of how it feels in hindsight. there had to have been warning signs but ash hadn’t been mentally or physically there enough in the time preceding it for him to have caught them and done anything about it. dimensions had had songs he’d produced they could have chosen; they’d better ideas. and it’s not that he thinks that anything he crafts is automatically genius, but it didn’t take an extreme amount of self-confidence to believe he could do something more true to the members — or at least to himself — than dynamite or butter were.
(because, really, that’s what it’s about more than anything isn’t it? him. like it’s some grand scheme by dimensions to spite him, like none of the other members might actually match the concept or prefer singing something upbeat rather than ash’s tortured ‘emo hip hop’ tracks.)
ash passes one of the identical lunch boxes to minhee and keeps the other for himself. “aren’t you lucky. i gave you the one with slightly more rice.” and himself the one that appeared to have about a gram more of chicken, but who was counting?
he distances himself from the table and the staff just enough that it looks like he’s leaving and he hope that will be enough for them not to eavesdrop on their conversation. it’s not so much that he doesn’t want to stand by his opinion, but the staff who are here now didn’t have anything to do with the song decision and the last thing he needs is some kind of leak about having a shitty attitude. “why would they when our fans with buy up any shit we put out and rocket it to a number one?” he rolls his eyes, but there’s more aggravation behind it than he lets fully show. when indicators of meaningfulness are shred to pieces by a ravenous audience, an artist can only judge the value of their work by their own metrics. ash wishes it could be freeing for him, but it sprouts confusion instead.
there were times where minhee wondered why he even resigned with dimensions, why he stayed in polaris when he had the chance to fuck off. however, he remembers, it was out of spite. if anything, spite had been his main motivator to stay in the spot light, to prove a point to no one in particular. so maybe out of spite was not the best decision ever made, as well.. he was stuck here. singing in a second language, in english, with the idea of bringing more fans and money to the company. of course, they got a share, but he isn't sure this is what polaris was all about. or maybe, they have become this, group, image that would break records left and right. what better way to do that than through bubblegum pop?
"how generous of you." minhee takes the lunch box from ash's hands and starts the debate of where to actually sit, there weren't that many options. however, the conversation with the younger continues and minhee casually follows suit as ash moves away from the table. there were very few things that actually scared minhee when it came to the company, and that was taking the little creative freedom he had when it came to their image. sure, choreography made a big chunk of the song, however, he was still given too many limitations, too many changes required, he sometimes feels like it was the same as when he first debuted. limitations..
"if it pays the bills, i can suck it up." he replies, shoulders shrugging as he heads to one of the couches in the far end of the room. simple as that. the schedules didnt seem to slow down, but at least dimensions promised them they wouldn't be spending as many hours in the air this time around, which to an extend, can get minhee to agree on plenty of things their company does. "at least we get to stay in seoul this time around."
butter is an empty, pointless song. it weighs heavy to go from music that, even if at times hadn’t connected with him, had some kind of meaning, to singing about being as smooth as butter. he realizes any days he’d had where he’d come anything close to a smooth-talking charmer are behind him, but even with that considered, butter is more sickly yellow-green, artificially colored sugary drink commercial than reflection of anyone’s lived human experience. if he has to hear the empty drum beat that cues him in one more time, he might lose it.
lucky for everyone involved, they’re called to break from dance practice as their too-late lunch arrives. ash moves with a speed yet unseen the duration of practice to get in line for food, but it just ends with him being asked to pass along lunch boxes to his other members. he has an inkling it has more to do with him being the youngest than the first in line, but he’s learned not to fight the tasks that get handed down to him for daring to be born last.
he turns to offer two identical lunch boxes to minhee, pretending as if he’s presenting him with a choice. “chicken, or… chicken?”
it might be the most talk ash has initiated with minhee in months, if he’s honest. some time around the turn of the year, as award shows grew increasingly tiresome and the possibility of faking some extreme freak accident to get out of performing dynamite another time grew more and more appealing, it had occurred to ash that minhee just seemed a little… happier. he’d promptly made the decision to keep his distance and not ask. it was for minhee’s sake, he swore. there are certain energies ash vibes with and certain others he doesn’t. not in some metaphysical or pseudoscientific way. he won’t cast away company because they’re an aries or because of their aura, but he gets irritated when there’s a little too much pep in someone’s step. he doesn’t want to be a party-pooper or some kind of black hole of joy just because he’s miserable nine times out of ten, so avoidance becomes his coping mechanism.
“you’d think they’d at least give you something better to make up for you having to listen to this song enough times to choreograph to it.” it’s half under his breath in hopes that none of the staff hear.
the direction in which polaris was heading wasn't something minhee had expected, but he guesses that the company really had a specific image for them in the states. a bit stereotypical, but what can he actually say. he's never had any interest in producing, that was ash's job, no? so if he played along with whatever the company wanted, he couldn't really blame him. they all just had to suck it up and work on whatever they were given.
he has been watching the group dance for a short while now, on the side, because he is the choreographer right? he got a bit of a special treatment some might say, but if he didn't like something someone did, he thinks he has the full right to call them out. he has been doing that for years now, so he hopes everyone has gotten used to it at this point. he is about to ask if they can go over it one more time, but he's cut off by one of the staff, announcing their meals finally arriving.
he notices ash almost dash towards the meals, doesn't comment on it. he's given up on the idea of commenting such things especially since he can't really remember the last time he had a proper conversation. maybe not start a fight in the middle of practice would be good. so minhee also lines up and waits for his turn patiently.
the options are... beyond disappointing, and the look he gives ash probably says more than he can with words. "oh i don't know...surprise me." he humors ash, but something tells him it wouldn't be appreciated. the words that come out of ash make the dancer huff, almost rolls his eyes, but he shrugs instead "you'd think they'd give us a better song to perform." minhee mutters back, in the same fashion as ash had, but he doesn't really mind the staff hearing. with the amount of shitty demos he had given dimensions to pick from for this song, he ended up having to merge like four of them to get to whatever they were practicing today. misery loves company, and minhee could both tell they were pretty miserable with this specific comeback.
❝ really really really really what do you think about me?
solo related minhee and the nostalgia of working on really really by platinum
date: february 2023
song choice: really really
word count:
notes:
if there was one thing certain about minhee was that he loved an upbeat song, as long as it was someone else’s. polaris had gone on the road of bubble gum american pop for the past few years and there was really little say in it really. he worked with what he was given all the time, learned that dimensions had plans and they really just pushed through.
however, really really was yet another breath of fresh air after catalyst's jealousy, gold star was really producing top class songs for their groups, minhee couldn't twist his soul to say otherwise. so the excitement was obvious when he was asked by his manager if he would like to take up this new task.
which involved way too much watching previous platinum dances, analysis and what not. he really put as much effort as he could into the foundation and ideas behind the really really point choreography. if anything, he thinks platinum were about the easy going stuff, the ones that could get most people dancing without really having much experience.
however, not all choices are oh so easily approved or taken a liking to. so he sometimes has to fight for what he thinks should be done. he likes to think of himself as someone who knows what he wants and what is best for a song, he has had plenty of choreographies under polaris prove that point, however, he understands, this is a different company.
it's a lot harder to work outside of your own comfort zone in a sense. he's gotten really used to working for dimensions, gold star had a vision and unfortunately, minhee had to follow whatever vision they had for one of their most senior groups. so he obeys, like always and changes whatever he can, however he thinks he can.
it takes a few demons, a few feedbacks, for minhee to finally receive the greenlight in this endeavor and he gets to the finish line. which is the final version of a dance, one where he isn't participating in. one where everyone was a professional dancer, wearing a nice big tag with the members of platinum's name on them. he has only recently started doing this, not participate in the final video submission. however, he doesn't exactly mind,
it was for the best, his manger had insisted, to not appear in random videos of other companies if they did decide to post the original dance practice, or if someone leaked it. minhee likes to think that there is nothing bad about appearing in such vides. however, dimensions would disagree.
so like the good kid that minhee is, he listens, and makes the dancers re-record the final practice one too many times because he doesn't like most of their takes.
“it’s a bad thing when you’re forced to put on a show for the cameras.” he’s faced the facts, ten years giving him a sly pass abstaining from any coveted smile and smirk in-between takes of the camera. it’s the seniority perks kicking in, he supposes.
the only thing he gets out of re-signing with gold star.
but differences aside, and the aftermath of a full-blown detonation of physical toll concerts now taking full force — it’s exhaustion creeping into his words. “you won’t get to see us perform for a while, unless you decide to pull the whole sasaeng shit and follow us to america. but i think that’s a bit over your head ‘cause you’d have to be insane to do something like that.” his words add a jest to how his words lilt up, and he’s found his own silver lining amongst mundane formalities.
after all, it’s friendship that only has his back at the end of the day. friends few and wide, and at this point, it’d be surface-level talks to say minhee’s stayed a sheer acquaintance. “good — and for future reference, i think i’m helping for her album, but always keep in mind, my loyalties are with you.”
"it is what we are paid to do tho, entertain the cameras and anyone else looking at us." minhee shrugs because he gets it, at the same time, there is really no going out of this. he isn't entirely sure if in the future, he will ever manage to get out of the spotlight. he doesn't think many idols are able to do that. he physically shakes his head softly at the thought, to get it out.
"you are saying that as if i didn't spend more time in the states the past few years than seoul." he says with a roll of his eyes "but yes, i will not pull the whole sasaeng shit and follow anyone. especially to a different country." he could think of plenty of better things he could be doing than stalking friends, "well, unless you invite me to one of your concerts there, then i can see what i can do." minhee teases, arms folding over his chest as he grins widely.
he feels a bit sheepish, he doesn't have many people he has talked to about his relationship with hayi. he knows she had some plans of a solo debut but he hadn't received much updates on it, they have been busy "oh? are you?" he asks, brows raised, grin turning more into a smile "thanks, its appreciated."
complements mean nothing, at least in the context of gold star mediated music. half the songs he’s written, gold star stole from the depths of his hard drives. and the rest becomes nothing more than half-assed promotional songs built by overexhaustion of ten other in-house producers.
either way, it’s a near breath of fresh air when all’s said and done and the only remaining aspect is the conversation with minhee — that much, he manages just fine.
“average performers at best — or if you wanna take on juyeon’s case, i think he puts too much msg into his fan service.” in the end, relatively speaking, it all balances out. his bleak demeanor, and the rest is all buried in the past.
his head tilts towards minhee, slinging the towel over his shoulder with one quick motion (formalities of not stretching the effects of the hot-stage lights too much past an arms length). “you’re busy, and to be honest, if i were you, i’d rather just go home after polaris schedules than to show up for this concert. but hey, you’re here. and you still look happy, so i’m assuming all’s still good on the love front?”
minhee can't help but scrunch his nose at the mention of juyeon, shoulder shrugging soon after. "it's not bad to be over the top with fanservice, that doesn't mean i also love it." afterall, he wasn't part of the average fanbase of platimun and maybe he was being biased. minhee always let his own feelings get in the way of many situations and decisions.
despite polaris's busy schedule, he had been doing plenty of other things on the side. talks about his solo comeback, talks about choreographies for other groups and even companies, he liked being busy and doing what he loves the most - dancing. "nahh, how can you say that? when will i next be able to get to see you guys perform? with an invite? not missing this!" minhee explains, shaking his head a bit dramatically, a bit like a child. he was an overgrown kid at times, he gets it
"me?" he questions, brows raised slightly before nodding his head, a rather sheepish smile tugging on his lips "yeah, it's been going pretty well, can't complain at all. thanks for asking." it was nice, even if the question and assumption were nothing more than empty words, minhee appreciated it to say the least.
solo related minhee and the nostalgia of working on jealousy by catalyst
date: february 2023
song choice: jealousy
word count: 459
notes:
he didnt think he would have the opportunity to choreograph for a song that brought so much memories from his early polaris days. if anything, he couldn't think of a better group to choreograph a dance like this than catalyst. afterall they were known for their cut knife choreography and always being good at synchronization. it's almost thrilling to be able to get back into his roots when it comes to dancing.
polaris had gotten into their bubblegum era as he likes to call it, unsure what dimensions was actually aiming at but who was he to have a say? never having written a single line for a song, he just works with whatever demo or final version he gets given. he makes it work if he can, and forces it if he can't.
however, this? jealousy? this was fun. super fun. minhee doesn't think he has gotten bored of the song no matter how much he listened to it because it was just so nostalgic.. it was exciting, something he craved polaris went back to but he isn't sure they could ever go down that road again. with the ever skyrocketing success it was only a matter of time before they get stuck in this genre and if he had a hunch about anything, they already were.
"you seem excited." one of their usual back up dancers says as minhee is looking at the massive white board, thinking about formations. he doesn't reply right away, instead drawing a few new formation ideas.
"can you tell that easily?" the idol knows its a stupid question. they have worked with most of the dancers for years, especially minhee himself. they spend plenty of time together, going over anything and everything dance related. sometimes helping him out with ideas and formations, but overall, they have really worked for a long time together. something minhee is very happy. polaris were a demanding group, it was heartwarming to see some people stick around.
"well, you seem more invested in this song than anything polaris has released the past year, just a hunch." the dancer says, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at whatever minhee was drawing on the board.
"hmm.. i'm just being nostalgic." the idol replies, marker still squeaking a few more times "it's very much early polaris days, i'm just reminiscing." he adds before finally placing the cap on the marker and putting it back from where he took it off. "right, lets try these three formations and see how it looks, i have a feeling it will be shit." he says, gets a laugh out of the dancer and a pat on the back.
maybe, just maybe, minhee thinks he picked the wrong profession of being an idol..
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