쫄보

chung gyujeong / haon '93 / platinum / gsm

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdxsuji​:

“a human metronome?” something that sounds similar to a scoff leaves her lips as the image becomes clear in her mind. she can see herself bopping her head along to a metronome and attempting this sing rap thing. she’s seen it done before, so she doesn’t think it’ll be difficult. most of her worries come from her being unsure if it’ll work for her. but she’s decided to work with this song, so she’ll have to get it done somehow. 

she nods at the idea he has for the song. “that’s nice. i think i’ve sung too many love songs anyway,” she states before picking up her own pen. the song continues to play in the background as she tries to imagine what she does on the weekends she has off. “so like going out to eat what you want, going on a walk and escaping the sun. things like that?” it comes out as a question, but she’s already scribbling a few keywords on the page in front of her. “we don’t really have weekends, but i like the idea of that. a song to listen to when you’re on your way to a summer retreat. how does that sound?” 

now that they’re leaning more into lyrics, which she believes is her forte, the creative juices in her brain seem to have gotten activated. when the chorus comes up again, she just begins humming and singing. “when the weekend comes,” she sings rather quietly, but she thinks it fits pretty well. to get gyujeong’s confirmation, she looks at him before repeating the phrase again and adding a few more lines of melody. 

when he makes the change according to her suggestions, she’s impressed that he gets it done so quickly, but it’s exactly what she imagined. “yeah,” she confirms before listening to his next idea. “mhm, i like the sound of that.” 

beat down, and he scribbles down the remnant of thoughts on whatever paper’s around in front of him. the details of the track, he’ll work on later when the cacophony of too many voices in one room doesn’t distract him from keeping on with conversation.

for now, the melody they’ve constructed will suffice. and he goes straight into work-mode with his back leaned against the chair, fingers back tapping against his chin as if it’s some makeshift way to make him think better. “yeah, summer retreat or whatever someone can enjoy blasting through the speakers during the hotter months. in that case, we might have to make you sing more cool toned than warm.” another opinion he finds himself scribbling against the paper, and he takes in the words suji’s suggested with the beat following through as the nib of the pen follows the rhythm. “when the weekend comes, i can do whatever i want?” he matches her work in whatever gets strewn past his head, diverting his gaze towards the corner of the room.

he’s fallen to a place of complacency, an artist with the crumbs of empty mumblings. for now, he can’t bother to change — it ruins productivity. so, he follows through with the melody, pulling the song back to the beginnings of the chorus. “if we keep english though, probably want to follow up with some korean unless you’re planning on keeping the song all english.”

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdjace​:

jihoon is very much in a bitter state and would kill for a glass of whiskey. or soju. or tequila. anything really, because the water bottle in his hand wasn’t doing it. he needed something bitter, but he knew he had to wait. it was almost over, yeah? so he could handle an hour or two before heading home and calling a day before waking up for another day of work. for once, he isn’t indifferent when it came to working.

“you drink too much if that’s how you wake up.” jihoon says looking at gyujeong in the same way he was being looked at, brow raised and expression skeptical. “i want to get drunk where everything is hazy and my head swims just enough to feel it when i close my eyes. i have dance practice in the morning, i don’t plan on doing it next to the trashbin.” the younger explains with a shrug, unsure what exactly the other was on about.

“damn, wish i could do that as well.” he says, a bit sarcastic a bit true, he’s sick and tired of seeing his name on the board along with whatever catalyst was up to. a break would be much appreciated but alas. “sexy is pretty fucking different from what i feel, you got that one right.” jihoon agrees, lowers his voice to a grumble as he brings the bottle of water to his lips and takes a sip “i haven’t been given the details, but they want to ride whatever high i got from my solo debut and catalyst’s releases, and every bone in my body is begging me to have a full eight hours of sleep at least once a week.” a sigh follows, foot tapping impatiently onto the floor “don’t think covering sadness with sex is something that would work, not for me at least.”

"that’s how i always wake up, hence why i don’t drink.” gyujeong says it just in case his words become twisted into meaningless rumors, picked up by the staff passing by one by one. but he’s been in that predicament before, and the continuity of the rumor mill moving one by one primes him to learn — it always dies down as fast as it picks up.

nonetheless, the clock ticks away and the conversation at least quickens the remaining restraints to his contract that keeps him here in the first place, so he continues on, holding with some form of his million and one looks of ambiguity. somehow, he manages to find himself in the middle of someone else’s woes, and he’s pretty sure nine times out of ten, he’d find himself split in the opposite direction. yet, he finds himself standing still with his hands dug deep into his pockets.

“do you want to talk about it? sounds like you need to talk about it.” the offers on the table, and he’ll leave it to jihoon to decide if he wants to put up or shut up — for now, he just goes on with whatever the conversation’s leading to. “eight hours a week? try in maybe a few years, and gold star will let you. as for the solo, sounds like they’re crafting up something to keep you busy — if you’re busy, then that might cover up whatever sad thing you’re avoiding today.” 

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdhyojung​:

gyujeong is absolutely one of the last people hyojung expects to see once she walks backstage after the concert that she has to do a double take to confirm that it is the platinum member in question. her first thought is that gold star made him do it to look like a supportive company mate, but she also thinks he doesn’t seem like the person to take instructions from anybody, even if it was their company.

thus, her feet lead her toward his direction and by the time she’s standing in front of him, her head’s tilted in confusion. “fancy seeing you here,” she begins before giving some last minute greetings to the staff members passing by them. “oh, do i not get any flowers?” she’s referring to their interaction at his own concert. 

hyojung almost hates to admit it, but she’s grown sort of fond of gyujeong and his presence. she doesn’t understand him all the time, and she thinks he has an oddly negative perspective of the world, but he’s pretty entertaining to be around. that’s why she sparked up this conversation in the first place, hoping that he could provide something amusing enough.

@gyujeongfmd

he doesn’t know why he’s here. 

or actually he does. 

it’s a slew of excuses he’s written mentally while sitting through hours of a concert filled with songs he doesn’t know the words to. 1) moral support, company orders. 2) he wandered around aimlessly in the streets of seoul, and somehow ended up here. or 3) there was nothing better do to, and the studio felt like an abyss of never-ending work projects — he just had to get out.

he uses excuse three when he’s lingering backstage, dipping his head to any staff member that passed by. soon after, there’s hyojung and suddenly, his excuses feel like frugal nothings for why he’s here in the first place.

“i... had nothing better to do.” it comes out, awkward and uncomfortable when his eyes scan, tossing a sole flower he’s found as a fidget toy while waiting back stage. “a flower, i picked it up somewhere — don’t read too much into it.” it’s almost irony at this point, a memory of months rehashed with the tables turned.

but really, what’s he to do when he knows no faces beyond his own company member standing in front of him. “nice concert — thought i’d hear the one song i knew. but then again, i don’t blame you. that’s probably one of the worst songs i’ve written for another group.”

[gyujeongfmd]

starter for @fmdhayi / random studio 

maybe, he’s finally fallen into neuroticism today.

or yesterday, or maybe it was a week before when it started. 

the studio in his house no longer feels like home, creating deafening noises that relegate his work to gold star’s name. his studio in gold star feels even worse, compounded with interruptions of different staff members popping in to take apart his hard drive for extortion.

maybe, that’s just all an exaggeration.

either way, he’s found himself a new makeshift rental studio space. inside, it’s quaint and quiet, nothing more than some sofa he bought from ikea and the mini-fridge with whatever he’s managed to bring from his house. minimalism, the new concept, and by hour five, he’s created some songs he doesn’t deem shitty anymore — at least, not shitty enough to be a platinum title. (too bad, it’ll never get any use). by the time he plays it back, and reaches for another diet coke before realizing he’s out.

so, begins the trek out the door and straight to the CU around the corner. 

but he opens his door, stops at the soles of his feet when he runs into the last person he’d ever expect at a studio. “aren’t you supposed to be promoting for your solo? or are you here to stalk me for a second title follow up request?”

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdxsuji​:

there’s nothing more to add to gyujeong’s explanation so she gives him another nod before listening to the track. he’s got most of it figured out, it seems. it just needs to be mastered for the track to sound completed, but she likes the beat. her first impression is that it’s different from what she’s performed before, but it doesn’t stray too far from what she’s shown as an equinox member. 

when he brings up a mumble rap, her brows furrow together more in confusion. before she knows it, she finds herself humming along. once it’s over, she gives a few nods of approval. “i like it. i can almost imagine the music video already,” she comments. “no wonder gold star mentioned pink hair.” with that, she shakes her head a bit because she’s still not completely on board with that. 

“i’ve done like really poorly executed rapping in some equinox b-sides before, but i’m not against the idea of a mumble rap. i probably won’t be able to write that section though, so i’ll leave it to you,” she says before putting her arms up in defeat. 

reaching over, she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable but she scrolls towards the chorus. “do you think we can switch up the melody for this part though? i think it’d be better suited if the ends of the phrases all go up if that makes sense.”

“don’t know how it goes pink, but sure whatever works for you and gold star, right?” at the heart of it, all he knows is music. the cacophony of different notes hitting the lines of the melody, and the words he scrawls out in moments of bludgeoning insecurity. the last thing that ever registers is how it transforms into the visualization in the end.

so, he’s glad at least suji’s got that covered.

his fingers pickup the pencil lying in the corner of his desk. bad habits emboldened when he can note the details of his own teeth marks, but he hides that with his grip. “you don’t need to be a good rapper, this is hardly rapping. instead, think about it as sing-songing to a pattern like a human metronome.” he pauses, taking a beat to prop up the pitch for his own idea. “speaking of lyrics, i have this idea for this song. it’s not a love song and it’s not a break up song — instead, it’s just a summer getaway song. like wanting to leave when the weekend comes. but you know, that could be a stupid idea — so, let me know if you have any others.” 

the words mumble faster into incoherencies, especially when he starts to uncover his own inner workings of something softer. call it a defense mechanism, and he won’t tell you, you’re wrong. 

“like this?” so, in light he shifts subjects, back to the screen, a few clicks of his mouse pitching the ends to the workup of layers before pressing play. “if we do that to the backtrack, then perhaps with the vocals you could sing upwards then drag it down for contrast.”

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdjace​:

jihoon would rather be everywhere but here. his mood was already sour as sour as he can get, he could feel that there was a vibe omitting of him that really kept everyone at a distance. which was great. no one to bother him as he vibed on his own, phone in hand and scrolling aimlessly through whatever app managed to give him a small hit of dopamine.

he does notice someone linger close to him, but he doesn’t look up, maybe if he stays quiet they will leave. but then an awfully familiar. so he looks up at gyujeong with a raised brow. “hey.” he calls back. unsure where this conversation was going to go. however, when the other continues to speak it makes jihoon roll his eyes “i wish i was drunk right about now.” he explains, but puts his phone away, turning to face his senior.

“did you not hear? gold star are in talks with themselves for a summer comeback for me. something sexy i heard.” it makes him shudder a bit, nose scrunching. “i’m still writing my sad songs, you should drop by and see what a sad fuck i am.” jihoon keeps his voice lower, but can’t help to chuckle, its dry.

he reverts back to the phases of his new years resolution: a warzone on his own dinner table lined up with green glass bottle soldiers and company for one, the shot he downs. blacked out, empty after the second. he can’t imagine jihoon’s really itching for a drink right now during the spring breeze and the warm weather.

gyujeong doesn’t hestitate. just raises his own brows, where he swears he’s not judging — in retrospect, his eyes paint a different story when they’re narrowing over at the other idol. “you’re kidding right? i will never understand why anyone wants to ever drink — that shit tastes so bad, and the day after you feel so sick. then, when you’re actually drunk everything just goes dizzy.” his rant cuts short when he catches himself on the cusp of divulging one too many accounts of recent experiences, and instead, he shuttles his gaze towards the onlookers across the scene.

“i don’t pay attention to gold star, or what anybody does inside of gold star.” a muffled voice, and truth of the matter is: he’s never given a shit in the first place. not now, not ever. and the only morsel of attention he’s forced to give is when his own name starts up on the scheduling boards for each quarter. “but sexy sounds far different than the last time i talked to you — trying to mask the sadness with sex? look at gold star try to stay with the times.”

[gyujeongfmd]

starter for @fmdjace / 4k event

it’s a near riot outside, and he can already feel the tensions of the cameras creeping over him. it’s straight day light, but they feel like the shadows that never dissipate when he takes one step forward, sneaks a peak behind him, only to confirm his suspicions right.

get used to it, right? that’s what they tell you when you step foot into show biz.

yet, it never gets easier and he feels himself tighten up with each step, sliding out his phone only to realize — the ending doesn’t near, and he’s still short a few hours before he gets the nod to jet-straight to the studio. so, he manages. finds a familiar face in the sea of a stray crowd before taking the bread of silence as cue to strike up conversation — either way, he drowns. 

“hey.” he calls out to jihoon, recalling traces of their last bump-in filled with nothing short of peculiar requests. “you still in need of sad songs, or were you just drunk then?” the latter suggestion’s false, but he’s no madman to resurrect something if it’s already buried six feet deep. so, instead, chung gyujeong stays put — both hands in his pockets, shifting inside the silence as he glances over towards his own company member, no expectations in sight.

[gyujeongfmd]

self para — super rich kids birthday

summary — gyujeong spends his birthday alone, just as he always has. warnings — none wc — 402

he hates birthdays.

he blames the weather, and the pollen lightly dusted in the air. something that serves as the beckoning for swollen eyelids and heavy congestion. but any third party person points the fingers at the lie, and it’s evident that it’s a smoke screen for nothing short of loneliness that comes at the expense of hollowed out time.

another year older, and they say you’re supposed to feel wiser. yet, nothing of the realm comes close when he’s sitting at the studio, three songs deep of melodies unfinished, scrapped and shoved to the crevices of his hard drive for another day.

nothing comes from inspiration when life paints nothing more than the half-folded over remnants of yesterday. yesterday bleeds into today, and today bleeds into tomorrow — it’s a pattern he’s held to his graces. at least, this way, he’s managed to come this far.

come back or not, and he swears he can hear his manager’s voice echoing in the shallow confines of his head — “do a livestream, open up instagram. do something worth fan service.” but he gives that to his members, for today — he treats himself to the exacerbating silence of doing nothing. making something, but pretending like half-assed productivity comes at the expense of his lucrative time.  (don’t believe him, time is cheap. his time’s cheaper when it’s filed with empty love songs his heart doesn’t have time for).

he shuttles his chair over to the corner of his studio — a mini fridge filled with sparkling waters, water, diet cokes and the leftovers from yesterday’s take out. of course, in the middle of it all is a green bottle he pulls out, along with the small glass to accompany the clinks of friends he doesn’t have.

slowly, he opens up the bottle to let the foil crack play to the tune of frank ocean’s super rich kids. the notes vibe, and he echoes the sentiment with one pour of the glass to the brim.

from his pocket, he slides out the lighter, flicking it to one sole lonely flame. an internal melody of happy birthday hums in his head, and he tells himself he’s stupid (still makes a wish) before blowing out the candle fully.

one more year, and he hopes next one’s wiser.

yet, the future doesn’t feel so certain when he swallows the punch of soju down his throat, feeling the heat rise from within.

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdxsuji​:

he’s not entirely wrong on his assessment. 

while suji’s not sure if she’d lean into herself getting bored of the song; it’s more like she’s scared that others will get tired of hearing the same thing from her. that’s why she just nods his head in agreement and lets him continue talking. she’s not entirely sure if something that was intended for lily will work for her, but she’s willing to try out new things.

“cool. it’ll be nice for the summer, or at least, that’s when i’m supposed to be making this comeback,” she states with a slight snort. of course, it’s not like she has gold star’s comeback schedule in front of her. “can i hear what you have so far?” considering he’s been working on it, she assumes that there’s something for her to listen to. 

“i’ll offer my thoughts and stuff afterward. i just want to know what’s already been done.” suji’s written with other people before, but she’s also been working with the same people for a while now. they all know how she works and usually laid everything out on the table for her at once. gyujeong was a little different, so she’d have to get comfortable in this environment.

the thing about music in this industry, is that it runs in circles.

the same equipoise that holds the patterns of what sells and what doesn’t, and by now, if he hasn’t mastered the standardized routine engrained in him through practice, then he’d be shit out of luck, hollowing out his pockets.

“summer, refreshing — and i’m tired of the big tropical sounds. figured, something brighter might be something of the vein of city pop. it worked for brave girls, didn’t it?” he quotes the resurrection, and his own guilty pleasure that’s been bleeding his speakers dry for the past few weeks — it falls shy when his tone doesn’t divert much than the monotones of his voice. “sure thing — hear it out, and we can alter as needed.” 

his fingers hit the space bar, and the music starts falling into the silence. like clockwork, his hands intertwine one another, propping his elbows against the arm rests of the chair. 

and he hates butting in, at least within the creative process. judge after you hear the full thing — yet, he chimes in mid-way anyways. “this part here — i wanted to add a rap. not a crazy one, but one of those sing-song mumble raps. but if you’re uncomfortable with that, then — we can scratch that idea.” 

[digitalmp3]

Visit Original Link

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdhayi​:

maybe it was the feel of being in his studio, of sitting beside someone who had made this part of their life a job. he was taken seriously with his work, had done well in writing and producing various songs, enough so that she didn’t care about the awkwardness floating around them if it meant she would feel that way too about her work. she had to stop reading into everything. in between the walls of the studio they aren’t two estranged sort of friends, they’re just an artist and an idol working together.

“right,” she wasn’t naive enough to fool herself, or others, into believing the song didn’t have that connotation, “i think also the person is begging them to reconsider the choice. they’re acting tough but, even within their questions, they’re showing they’re not as okay with it as they’re trying to make it seem.” 

it’s cliche for her to remember her first love. to remember the multiple break ups, the ones in between years of what they called love where either she or he took the cop out of saying the break was for the other. to make that relationship the inspiration behind the song. but he knows of her first love, of the relationship as a whole and it’s only a little embarrassing to bring that up to him. instead, she recalls a conversation between the two long ago when they discussed relationships as a whole. the pair had such distinctive ideas of a relationship, of love in general that it had turned into one of those conversations people usually have when they’re drunk or high.

so, she thinks another conversation of the sort couldn’t possibly strain what little relationship they have any more than it already is. “i’m not really going for sympathy,” she admits, “i just think there’ll be many people who can relate to that type of love. the one where you’re still holding onto someone but they’re leaving, and you can’t really take it but you’re going to. even if i try to turn your heart around, you’ve already made the decision.”

love in all its games, it’s a sick and twisted thought.

it makes your stomach churn, jabs itself in between the grooves of each thought and each action. then, it renders you useless. decades of repetitive cycles renders you to the point of exhaustion — and that’s how he’s ended up right here in the first place. exhaustion flees the more he dives into work. except, when it intercrosses, and he’s forced to look deeper into the same pipeline from begging to exhaustion — he’s left with pieces of his own past year lying through picture bursts of memories. 

he takes the now-melted coffee on the table, drinks what’s left inside the cup. “they’re throwing their pride away, and in this situation, they’re certainly not masking what they want to get across.” he taps the rim of the plastic cup, teeth down on his bottom lip thinking to how he’s written about these same cycles in songs prior. 

yeah, at this point — he might as well be a broken record of rehashed ideas and words jumbled at the scene. “people relate, but it’s kinda stupid. if you’re in love with someone that much, rather than press if they’re okay — why not suck that shit up and just state the obvious: that you want to hear a specific answer from him.” gyujeong pauses, squaring his shoulders back onto the screen. a mirage of white light, and he starts the next line, mumbling. “make the last line of the song, yeah, i want to hear your answer. that it’s not alright. that you can’t live without me. that you miss me like crazy. because at the end of the conversation that’s the song — isn’t that the main point?”

[gyujeongfmd]

self para — feel my rhythm

summary — gyujeong creates feel my rhythm while apologizing to bach  personal note: i do not think this of red velvet or feel my rhythm, don’t get it twisted!! i listen to feel my rhythm on repeat for my long runs and rv is my GROUP. this is just gyu’s point of view on how he sees equinox / feel my rhythm : ) warnings — none wc — 426

he calls equinox his saving peace.

no rhyme or reason why he feels any morsel of loyalty to the group — it’s comprised of some chart hogging bitch who always shows up on his youtube screen, a main vocal that holds her own in a sea of autotune, some faraway leader who was born a bit too early for the generation she thrives in, some late addition, and a killer main dancer who houses the foundation of the group.

no, no loyalties at all.

he just considers it a break when he’s cooped up in the studio, forced to rearrange the half-made beats one by one, hoping to pick something of substance. (in reality, it’s all shit — gold star will have to make do with what’s there).  gyujeong likes to imagine he’s in some sort of warped fantasy. he’s packing up the remnants of what’s left in the dusty studio, leaving all the shit there before tossing a blind eye with nothing more than middle fingers up. reality is: he’s stuck creating more shit for a shitty company, creating the maelstrom of bullshit that leaves him inside this cycle in the first place.

nonetheless, it sucks when he can hear the door crack open, shedding a sliver of light through the dark room. no knock, and he already knows it’s some asshole from gold star ready to mandate the next set of tasks or the next set of beats to rip from his hard drive.

equinox’s his saving peace when his expectations read: ultraviolet. but what stems from the executive’s mouth is, equinox.

a new comeback, this time something different than the last. he side eyes, face still angled to the screen. there’s still the inkling of some unresolved angst he refuses to give up, noted when he just nods, motioning to close the door on the way out.

few more clicks, and he uncovers some old projects. a few beethoven inspired pieces here and there, chopin when he’s felt nostalgic. then, there’s bach — the unresolved mystery of boy genius. gyujeong sits and mules over the thought, fingers tapping against his chin when the first few plugs of a dreamy classic starts to flow through the speakers.

a cacophony of sounds, and he trades in edm for the set of classics.

it’s nice, but he’s been vetted enough to know the immediate feedback: boring.

so, what’s gyujeong left to do than to mar a work of art with the shambles of sheer noise? he says a prayer to bach, apologies for the massacre he’s about the create.

[kth1]

preparing for the worse on jinny’s kitchen

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdhayi​:

when she was first told of her solo debut she out right declined. she didn’t want to perform music written by others that dictated her brand any more than she already has. it was when her manager gave her the idea to use her own music that she agreed. she could do that, had enough drafts or full fledged songs that were already written.

this song was different, though. she just had a concept. a break up song, that is what it will be reduced to. it’s profitable and she has enough experience to write an album or two off break up songs alone. 

“yeah, i get you,” she nods, taking in his suggestion and immediately deleting the lyrics she had dubbed as the partners voice responding back on the notes she had opened in her phone. there was a part of her that wanted to beg him to write the song himself, if only to get rid of the discomfort she felt from opening up to him about this side of her work.

“i had a section that i’m sure of, lyrics i know i want in the song because it embodies the message of it. i thought we could maybe work the rest of the song around it?” gaslighting ex-lovers or not, she knew it would turn out to be a song that others would relate to, maybe even feel comforted by. “even if you miss me, you won’t be able to see me. even if you want to hold me, you won’t be able to. even if you want to hear my voice, you’ll have to hold it in. maybe that’s where i can add in, are you alright?” 

maybe, he should’ve braced himself on the lessons to work alongside an estranged friend.  because hindsight is twenty/twenty, and he’s fallen into the graces of awkward silences and weird pauses that put him on the edge of — say it? or bite his tongue and shut the fuck up?

too late for that now, when he’s going through the process of writing a song. for all he cares — it’s business duties talking. business formalities lead him to ignore all context outside of the studio walls, and hone into the spotlight of the track that lines the screen. and that comes along with listening, ears open, nodding his head with the motion to share facets of lyrics that get tossed around in the process.

“i think that works fine — fits the bill of the general theme.” it sounds more bleak than he intends, but he’s not there to offer a cushy round of applause for tokens of personal information. instead, approval comes with the taps of the keyboard re-writing the same words on the screen. “the whole sound revolves around one person trying to act like they’re okay, while simultaneously trying to get the person leaving to look back...” it’s a thought-process out loud, and he lends his eyes to the ceiling — an attempt to fall back into old habits and old memories with someone long gone.

and maybe, that’s just how he landed himself with the stereotypical sticker of: sad love song writer #1. “in that case — nothing’s more sad than stating the obvious. you’ve already made the decision. you’re so bad at trying to act cold. you can’t even look into my eyes. juxtaposing that with, even if you miss me, you won’t even be able to see me lends sympathy for the person singing the song aka: you.”

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdxsuji​:

suji isn’t sure why she’s so nervous. 

she’s worked with people before, but they’ve always been the same in-house producers. rarely does she work with her peer artists, and even less so people that she’s simply unfamiliar with. the most she’s seen of gyujeong is just around the building, and he always looked like he was in a bad mood.

so when he walks in and sets the cards out straight, she isn’t even surprised. “city pop’s fine,” she confirms with a single nod as she stares at him taking a seat. “i was hoping for something different anyway. plus, it’ll be a nice contrast to spark,” she comments once more, though she doubts he even needs any additional explanations from her. it looks like he walked in here with his mind set. 

“is there anything you’ve already been working on?” she questions before putting down the pencil that was in her hand. she was mostly a lyricist anyway, so if he had a beat, she’s certain she can get started pretty much right away. “do you usually start with the beat or the concept or what?” if she was going to work with the platinum member, she felt like she had to know his creative process. that way, they can actually get something done together.

everything is mundane.

it’s all a monotonous process from the different ways to hash out the same beat, same bpm, and same general gist from the melody. stretch him out far enough, and what remains is nothing beyond transparency in a one-dimensional process.

at least, that’s how it’s always been as of late. 

except, he finds exceptions in monotony, the vibrancy of each click from the mouse pulling up some disorganized, jumbled paradox of documents strewn out from his screen. he gives his nod to suji, “yeah — listened to some your stuff while writing this base. you tend to do a lot of ballads with a blend of pop-rock. figured, at some point you have to get tired of doing the same genre — at least, i know i do.” the latter part falls more of a mumble, read: the reason why he’s hit a halt on solo music in the past few months.

gyujeong swivels his chair back around, fingers biting the arm of the chair. “it’s a case by case basis, no concepts included. i slap a bunch of different melodies, bottom beats and see what comes out — or at least, what i can manage to vibe to as the music starts the creation.” one dip of his chin, he tilts his head the opposite way. “i’ve been working on a city pop beat, started with lily in mind before i realized it might suit a solo better than a full group.”

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdhyojung​:

she snorts a little because even she can see that this is all a shabby, last-minute gift. it wasn’t given out of pity, but more because she thought it’d be rude to have it in her hands and not give it to him. however, she wouldn’t be offended if he threw it out right in front of her. it could barely be called a gift. 

“thanks?” it’s her turn this time to question the compliment. hyojung doesn’t think he’s lying, per se, but it does feel like a way to simply keep the conversation going so they can both get out of here. “it was a little awkward at first, but now i’ve had this hair for like a year. i’ve gotten used to it.” she does miss getting to style her hair differently from time to time, but her stylists have been great at differentiating between yumi and selene’s hyojung, despite the restrictions. 

“dating shows weren’t really my thing either until i started transit love. but they’re all super genuine, and i can’t help but immerse into it.” the show has been a surprise since the very beginning. if the director hadn’t come to her directly and sweet-talked her, hyojung doesn’t think she would have said yes, but now she’s glad she did. “i think you’d be interesting as a panelist on a dating program.”

it feels like a mere exchange of reflections — his word of thanks being bounced with her sheer attempt of a polite exchange. they’ve crossed corners, years of being jammed into the same company for the look of company-bloomed friendships. still, he doesn’t think he has any other options beyond a) continuing this game of superficial conversation or b) actually taking this one as if they were anything in the realm of real friends.

friendships or not, he doesn’t take a second look when he brings his eyes back to the blank wall in front of him. “you know what they say — choppy bangs, takes a certain look to pull it off. better it looks good on you than bad, right?” 

(he chooses exit a).

only, it stops when real talks about real people start to surface. and he’s forced to imagine like the faux show of love and his narration brings forth anything of substance.

“i don’t think so.” he stops himself short, quiet on the edge of his tongue. "i don’t really know your take on love. but genuine love, i don’t think that shit resolves itself on camera, nor can it be shown nor exploited. exploiting true love? that shit sounds fucked to me.”

[gyujeongfmd]

fmdmin​:

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.

“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.”