On the rare occasions that Lucid has a bit of a looser schedule, Chunhwa tends to spend the night at either Andy’s or her grandparents’. Her boyfriend’s place is preferably for a multitude of reasons but especially for privacy and not having to share an apartment with a bunch of other people even if it’s just for one night, while she enjoys going home to her grandparents’ so she can meet up with her sister more easily and spend most of her time nagging at the younger girl. This time around, it was Andy’s. She had missed her — theirs — animals as it’s been a while since the last time she got the opportunity of spending the night. With another comeback just around the corner, it means her time is going to be even further shortened and she grabs onto every opportunity possible.
But Chunhwa had been too lazy to cook breakfast, especially with Andy already gone when she had woken up. Her best alternative was to find a café, one that wasn’t as annoyingly busy as the biggest chains, where she could sit down, eat some food and drink some decent coffee without worrying too much about being approached. The place she goes to is one she’s been going to with her sister for years. It is indeed not too crowded when she arrives, easily finding herself an empty table after she grabs her order. Just as Chunhwa is about to dig into her cake, she’s approached by a girl.
Lately, it’s been more common for Chunhwa to be recognised around. She’s not being full of herself when she says she’s someone easily recognisable because of her looks — she is a very beautiful person, and everybody around her is constantly reminding her of that. With Lucid increasing popularity, their faces being in more places lately, it’s inevitable that more people know who she is. More often than not she gets approached for an autograph but today, specifically, Chunhwa was hoping for a quiet breakfast.
Yet before Chunhwa can let her down gently, the girl continues speaking, introducing herself as a trainee. Chunhwa would consider luck if she recognized so much as a trainee from Dimensions, much less a BC one, but she does have to give it to the girl that she has balls to randomly approach someone like this just to try to strike a conversation. Chunhwa is equal parts annoyed and amused, so she reaches out to take the girl’s hand. “Rorin, you said?” It’s not particularly a struggle for her to say Michelle, but a petty part of her latches onto it being the first name offered, which must mean it’s the girl’s favorite, so Chunhwa might as well call her by the other one. “I’m Lucid’s Bom. Or Chunhwa. Don’t call me Bom, no one calls me that.” Not even the fans. Stupid stage name.
She quirks an eyebrow, looking around the place as prompted. “Yeah, it’s nice. Whatever. Very Gangnam.” Chunhwa grew up in places like this, which means she’s not easily charmed. “Do you wanna take a seat?” She asks, with a tilt of her head. “You said you were a trainee? Yet they let you eat that stuff? Are BC’s rules suddenly less strict about trainee diets?”
While the dramatic changing tides haven’t been easy for her to navigate, Michelle likes to think that she’s adjusting as best she can to the newness that surrounds her. For one thing, she’s not only embarking on a completely different career path than originally planned, but she’s living in a whole new country. Sure, she has genetic ties to South Korea, but for what seems like forever, it existed almost as a figment of her imagination given that she and her mother never had the money ( or the time ) to travel abroad; not even for a brief holiday visit. She recalls the stories that both of her parents used to tell her about living in Seoul and seeing it grow into the city its become today, and she always imagined it to be a place that she’d feel at home in, but so far, she’s sort of had the opposite experience. It’s hard to explain, but she longs to feel apart of it the longer she remains a resident. As far as her contract is concerned, she’s here ( at least ) until it expires, so she has no choice but to adapt.
What’s assisted her so far is her ability to naturally engage in conversation, and while she knows her grasp on the language isn’t top-notch and she still has no idea what social norms she needs to follow, she really tries her best to be pleasant to everyone—even when their response to her isn’t nearly as warm. So, when a bit of chill is found within Chunhwa’s tone, she immediately is taken back to the condescending attitudes she had to put up with as a figure skater. However, as she knows the other is a talented, respected “senior” of hers, Michelle doesn’t want to meet her icy words with even more frigid cool, so she at least attempts to be playful. Though, if this fails and things continue on the somewhat tense vibe they’re traveling down, she’s not going to be afraid to give the other a taste of her own medicine.
That’s one thing she has the most issues with in Korea—the constant expectation that younger, inexperienced individuals must bow down to their seniors whims and words no matter how they treat you. She’ll never abide by that, and hopes that it doesn’t land her scorching hot water in the future. Then again, if it does, it’s not as if she plans to exist in the entertainment industry for the rest of her life. If anything, it would just work as an excuse to get the hell out of it far faster than intended.
“Lucid? I feel like I’ve seen or heard that name somewhere, but I’m the worst when it comes to remembering stuff like that.” She begins, then nods as she takes the seat offered to her; setting her items down gracefully. “I don’t think Lucid’s in BC, but if it is, I’m so sorry... I’d feel so bad for just not even retaining that information.” Slowly, she lifts her beverage and takes a sip, then giggles at the mention of the dessert present. So Chunhwa’s that kind of girl... noted. “Oh, yeah. Well, I’m not going to lie to you, the diet culture here is... pretty ludicrous in my opinion. Like, I feel like I’m on a more rigid diet here than I was when I was figure skating, and let me tell you, that’s saying somethin’...” The younger replies, shamelessly digging into her treat; taking the biggest bite possible. “That, and to be frank,” she begins, then swallows. “I’ve been told that I shouldn’t try to lose more weight. I also sort of refuse to. I’m not about to be driven mad or anything if I step on a scale and it shows a number they do or don’t like.”
Continuing to indulge, she hums at the flavor, then gazes over to the other; offering a smile after dabbing her lips with a napkin. “If you don’t mind my asking, what are you known for in Lucid? I hope this doesn’t sound strange, but I have a feeling that you’re, like, terrifyingly talented. I get a vibe from you that you just kinda have your shit together. It’s... impressive.”
