☾ lacuna. @hdharu - Tumblr Blog

‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ profile • dossier • pinterest • playlist • spotify ]

"You could never looked out of place." He reaches over before he fully thinks about it and flicks the crumpled plastic bottle lightly with two fingers. Just enough to disrupt the knuckled grip Haru has around it. The gesture is casual in theory, intimate in practice.

"Oh god, you watched my performances?" He laughs, carrying the aftertaste of adrenaline. "What did you think? I wasn't so bad, right? Those performances weren't like… This. With you." He thinks about debut often, the actual feeling of it: the nausea before walking onstage, loneliness of trying to look larger than he felt, scandals, an awful awareness that everyone around him was just as terrified and pretending otherwise. He didn't want newcomers to feel the same, and was kind of glad of this temporary group slash bootcamp.

Tonight had momentum.

He can still hear the crowd chanting somewhere outside, muffled, but enough to make his skin buzz all over again. It occurs to him suddenly, absurdly, that this might be the first time since training started that he's wanted the night to stretch instead of end. Riyan pushes off the wall completely then, stepping close enough that Haru could probably still feel the heat radiating off him from the stage. "People say being in sync happens accidentally, when you can't explain chemistry." He tosses the words lightly despite all what could mean, but then he smiles, quick and unbearably crooked. "So," he adds, "Cheers to you, Haru."

hdharu

under normal, heavily regulated circumstances, the sheer physical proximity of another human being—especially one radiating the blinding, post-performance heat that riyan currently was—would have triggered haru's flight response. yet, the sudden flick against the crumpled plastic of his water bottle acted as an unexpected tether and snapped haru out of his frozen, sensory-overloaded malfunction.

instead of retreating into the safety of distance, haru remained completely rooted to the floorboards. he blinked and when his gaze dropped down to his own hand, he realised how disfigured the bottle had turned under his administrations. with his internal systems still scrambling to reboot under the weight of riyan's closeness, haru defaulted to a polite automatic sequence that involved raising his bruised bottle in a mimicry of a toast, murmuring a quiet 'cheers' on his own, then finally pressing the rim to his lips and taking a desperately needed, grounding sip of water.

the water, unfortunately, did little to cool the sudden short-circuiting of his thoughts. riyan's suggestion, that their flawless synchronisation was merely 'accidental' or born of 'unexplainable chemistry', lodged itself into haru's mind as an illogical fallacy. a man of science, haru was, and the concept of attributing mechanical perfection to invisible, unquantifiable variables was something he could not so easily let slide. however, with riyan standing in such proximity and the heat transferring in the narrow space between them, haru's cognitive processors were operating at a sub-optimal capacity. and so, logic gave way to sheer, unguarded instinct.

haru gave a slow shake of his head as he lowered his bottle, offering riyan a surprisingly soft, kind smile that was entirely devoid of his usual pedantic armour. a quiet, sheepish chuckle vibrated in his chest.

"i'm not sure if it's really chemistry that can't be explained," haru murmured, his dark eyes locking onto riyan's with a devastating, literal sincerity. "because maybe it wasn't so accidental. like i said, i watched your past performances so... i paid close attention to you."

he tilted his head, completely oblivious to the sheer weight of his own words. "i might have to do it again later on when i watch our performance today."

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hd:debut2k26 #hdriyan

hdmiru

while miru was skeptic about the whole idea, she wasn't as nearly so pessimistic about it as haru. she was rather taken back by his words, and she found herself simply nodding along. "well, they do always seem pretty confident about their ideas." she doesn't dare talk about how varsity didn't do nearly as well as girl next door did, though it's proof that not everything the company executes always ends up being successful.

"my guess is they want to be the ones to create something that shakes up the industry," she states with a scrunch of her nose. miru doesn't know how to feel about the fact that they're literally being treated like guinea pigs for whatever grandiose idea hydra has. it's not like she has much of a choice, anyway.

letting out a sigh, she simply brushes a hand through her hair in slight frustration. "kind of funny how they presented it like we had a choice, too. when do we really have a choice, right?" it's mostly said in a whisper as she doesn't want anybody to overhear their real thoughts on the matter.

"anyway, i've already agreed to it so might as well just hope that the song isn't too bad. the a&r team here doesn't suck too much." she shrugs because at least this part is true. miru's enjoyed every song she's had to perform so far, so her fingers are crossed that she could continue to say that even with the debut of this co-ed group.

hdharu

'they want to be the ones that shake up the industry', miru had said, and to that, haru had a million and ten retorts.

of course, anyone would want to be the first to successfully accomplish something, to be the trend-setter, the undisputed architect of a new paradigm. especially in an industry as cutthroat as the entertainment world, there were only so many times the same formula could be applied before it was no longer sustainable in the long run. at some point, someone would bulldoze their way in and rewrite the program, forcing the rest of the ecosystem to either adapt or perish.

but miru understood all of this just as well as haru did, so he saw no need to vocalise each of his thoughts and have them echo between them.

with his forearms now resting on the table, he picked up his chopsticks and nudged around some of the food in front of him. his voice dropped to a low murmur, ensuring the words remained strictly between the two of them. "you're right. the lineup is pretty good too. but don't tell seungho i said that."

the one other male in the co-ed project was another topic that haru wanted to broach, though his curiosity blared stronger for the others in the group and he selfishly wanted to satiate that particular inquiry before anything else.

finally picking up his bowl of rice again, he cleared his throat and spoke before taking a bite. "have you talked to the other girls? how do they feel about the whole thing?"

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdmiru #hd:debut2k26 #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

hdseungho

seungho feels that question sink straight into him. haru is trying to be a masterpiece so bad that he forgot he's actually the one holding the golden brush. seungho understands this, its a specific kind of exhaustion, you start to curate yourself until theres nothing left but the highlights. seungho looks down at his own hands; they are calloused in ways a trainee's hands aren't supposed to be, mapped with scars of a life lived before he was a project. he always thought haru was the one built for this but maybe that's the trick. maybe whoever is trying to mold him, or whatever is trying to break him, is just looking for a mirror to reflect back. it hits him that looking at haru, seeing all that potential being treated like a defect, feels exactly like those calloused hands. rough, raw, a work in progress that the powers that be are trying to rush.

"i don't know what's going to happen. honestly? nobody does…"

his voice comes out quieter than he expects, dragged a little by the wind. he nudges the sand with his foot again, softer this time, pushing it forward instead of kicking it away, watching the grains shift and settle like they've got nowhere better to be. "but if you really get lost?" he glances over, a crooked kind of smile tugging at his lips, warmer than the sun. "just follow the sound of my laugh. it'll always be loud enough to find."

hdharu

haru fiercely refused to admit—even to himself, in the privacy of his own mind—that for a brief, fleeting moment, his heart actually skipped a beat.

it was the curse that had haunted him since time immemorial, having within his orbit people who were such stark contrasts to him. haru had always been ice, the chilling breeze of the autumn air just as the temperatures were beginning to drop and winter was quietly being ushered in. with snow settling on his hair, camouflaging him against the mute, white expanse of a frozen tundra and blending him into the surroundings—just as he wanted.

seungho was the blaring sun, full of vitality and vigour and everything that executive producer sena wanted to see in the barren wasteland that was the pupils of haru's eyes. this dichotomy had always taken center stage—because how could it not, when the polarity between them was so severe—and now it was once again glaring as ever, casting a blinding, inescapable light upon the very walls haru was trying so desperately to uphold.

biology betrayed haru before he could reel in the warmth that crept up beneath his skin and thawed the frost at the tips of his ears in a traitorous flush. he angled his face away and expelled a heavy sigh, feigning a profound exasperation to mask the terrifying flutter beneath his ribs. it took him a second to regain enough composure so that his voice carried no signs of the microscopic tremor that had just compromised his internal architecture.

"now i'm not sure if being lost is much better than getting a headache from your voice," haru said in jest, though his signature deadpan monotone kept the warmth of the joke far away from his words. he let out a soft snort before he continued, "i might take my chances at remaining lost."

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdseungho #hd:debut2k26 #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

hdriyan

FT. @hdharu 🦁

Backstage at Yonsei University is total chaos. Cables snake across the floor, staff brush past without apology, hands appear out of nowhere with towels, with bottles, or with instructions that dissolve the second they're given. Everything is too immediate, suggesting the performance hasn't ended so much as it's followed them in. Riyan takes a water bottle without looking, twists it open, and drinks like he's been underwater for three minutes too long but make it demurely. He taps the back of his hand across his lips gently, eyes cutting sideways toward Haru like he needs to confirm it happened outside of himself. He's still carrying the grain of the stage, but loosened underneath now, uncoiled, or unguarded in a way that feels close despite their minimal interactions.

The reception was the best they've ever had. And that made Riyan think Haru might be the missing variable in an equation he didn't realize he was solving. Up close, everything is louder in a different way, the echo of the crowd still ringing in his ears, the faint hitch in his own breath, the way adrenaline lingers like a second heartbeat. "You felt that, right?" he asks, not demanding, but not quite casual either. Riyan tilts his head slightly, studying haru with an attention built out of shared exhaustion and the particular intimacy of surviving the same cut. "I ask because I didn't feel this during debut. Maybe it's because of you joining," Riyan adds, cheeky because he doesn't like to hide the truth, yet he is testing how much of it he can get away with.

hdharu

haru held a plastic bottle in his hand with the cap already twisted off and discarded, ready to replenish the sheer biological toll exerted by their performance. however, the only motion that could be observed from him was the subtle, rhythmic tightening of his knuckles around the thin plastic. he was a pristine, frozen statue, his dark eyes still cast out towards the audience, as if he were waiting for the deafening, reverberating roar of the crowd to physically knock him back into reality—or more accurately, to prove to him that this was reality indeed.

it took him a few heavy seconds to recalibrate his senses when riyan's voice pierced through the static. blinking slowly, haru turned his body and anchored his gaze away from the stage to offer the other male his full, undivided attention.

behind his eyes, the lingering embers of performance adrenaline still burned, bleeding into his voice as it carried a quiet, uncharacteristic confidence. "i..." haru began, his tone a smooth, grounding contrast against the frantic energy surrounding them. "yeah. maybe it is."

for better or for worse, riyan had caught him in a profoundly unguarded and vulnerable state. his usual pedantic architecture gave way to raw instinct, and the honest thoughts came barrelling out before his systems could reel them back in.

haru shut his eyes briefly and gave his head a subtle shake, as though he were physically casting aside the remaining haze of exhaustion. when his eyes opened again, the intense fire had settled into a muted warmth, and he offered a small, disarmingly genuine smile. "but i'm just glad i didn't get in anyone's way. i spent some time watching your past performances so that i'd know how to integrate myself. i didn't... i didn't expect us to fall into sync this easily."

haru's heartbeat rang loud and erratic between his ears, leaving him entirely unable to determine if the violent thudding against his ribcage was merely the lingering echo of the stage, or if his treacherous mind was actively short-circuiting at the interpretation of riyan's words as praise.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hd:debut2k26 #hdriyan #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

☾ @hdnayoung — thread.

perhaps haru should have reached out to nayoung through a different avenue.

haru had nothing against parties or other similar functions where social interaction was expected, in spite of the deliberate, calculated way he typically avoided them. even in the past, when he was working part-time as a model, he would meticulously ration his presence, offering a polite excuse to make his attendance scarce while ensuring his appearance ratio remained perfectly acceptable in the eyes of those within the industry. he only engaged in the specific functions that would provide some tangible benefit for him.

this time around, the benefit was catching nayoung in a more private setting.

the hidden club in hannam-dong, where this "casual get-together" was currently unfolding, functioned as an appropriate sanctuary for those within the industry; a gilded cage where one could catch the attention of the right network nodes, while hiding safely away from the predatory gaze of the wrong paparazzi lenses. haru watched the masses dance under the dim, amber-tinted lighting of the establishment, while he remained motionless in the velvet shadows of one of the deep booths, nursing a glass of whiskey that was already half empty, its meticulously carved ice cubes having melted into nothingness moments ago.

he brought the rim of the crystal glass back up to his lips, taking a slow, measured sip as he allowed his eyes to shift toward the general direction where he had spotted nayoung earlier—and, thankfully, found her amidst the blurring sea of strangers and acquaintances both, a familiar and striking silhouette.

he had something he needed to ask her. a burning, quiet anxiety that only grew in corrosive intensity following the devastating words that had recently been lashed against his polished exterior—that he was merely a 'beautiful corpse with absolutely no life, no passion, and no fire within'. however, initiating a conversation that required such a terrifying degree of vulnerability demanded more liquid courage in his meticulously controlled system. and so, abandoning his usual restraint, he finally tipped his head back and downed the rest of his glass before abruptly standing up and excusing himself to introduce more alcohol into his bloodstream.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdnayoung

hdseungho

seungho hears haru's words just sort of evaporate into the salt air. he lets out a sharp, clicking tsk—the universal korean sound for you are overthinking this and it's making my teeth ache. he hates this. he hates the way the industry turns functional human beings into these glass figurines, always terrified of a hairline fracture. everyone is so busy trying to be a masterpiece that they forget how to just be a person who occasionally trips over their own feet or says something profoundly stupid. the unwillingness to act a fool is the real villain of this little purgatory. he misses the culture of early generations.

"look at you," seungho says, low-slung, he's talking to haru like they're two idiots sharing a cigarette behind a convenience store, not two products being polished for a lens. "if you get any tighter, you're gonna snap and take an eye out."

he kicks a spray of sand toward haru's shoes and then simply leans back on his elbows, looking up at the sky. he lets a string of words fly that would make a harbor master blush, a foul-mouthed cadence that is somehow the most honest thing on this entire beach. he'll wreck ball his aim at the 'mold' haru is so scared of.

"you? you're the sensible, intellectual guy the rest of us messy kids can lean on. own it."

hdharu

the phantom flinch that haru felt when the spray of sand scattered across his shoes raked over his internal composure, even if absolutely none of it reflected on his countenance. this was the exact defect haru lived in constant, suffocating fear of exposing—if someone were to stare just a second longer, or peer just a fraction too deep beneath the surface, they would see past the meticulously polished porcelain and find nothing but an echoing, freezing abyss. the same one that one of the executive producers had already called him out for; it was only a matter of time before the cameras caught wind of it as well.

hearing the streak of curses spill from the other male's mouth was by no means an unfamiliar experience for haru, though it still poked at and tested the sterile, pedantic sensibilities he was raised to uphold. haru could barely remember the last time a single obscenity had crossed his own lips, let alone possessing the ability to be so remarkably fluent in the raw, unapologetic cadence that seungho wielded like a second language. in a strange way, that was exactly what made existing within seungho's chaotic orbit so undeniably liberating, even if his mother would have not felt the same way.

"i try to be, but..." haru's lips pressed into a thin line and a quiet, noncommittal hum vibrated in the back of his throat.

"what if i'm unable to even be myself?" he asked, the syllables dissolving into the sea breeze, barely louder than the crashing tide. "what do you think would happen then?"

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdseungho #hd:debut2k26 #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

hdmiru

𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, @hdharu

right when miru felt like she was finally getting the hang of this whole industry, hydra throws her a curveball. "a co-ed group? do those things even work out anymore?" she recalls whispering to haru as soon as their secret mini meeting ended. of course, not loud enough so the staff can't hear her. nevertheless, she's a little doubtful of the whole thing.

however, she's also miru, which means that she chooses to weigh the benefits and risks of everything before making a choice, and the lists she made seem to heavily lean toward this being more of a positive than a negative. more exposure is always positive in this world, isn't it?

that's how she finds herself sitting across from haru in the company building cafeteria, eating away at a pasta salad that she's convinced herself is the best choice for dinner, sharing her thoughts about this whole thing. "so, what do you think?" she says before taking a bite from her salad, looking up at him with intrigued eyes.

out of everybody in the room, she would've actually guessed that haru would be the first to say no, solely because the aesthetic didn't seem like his thing. but then again, it's not like girlnextdoor's debut was completely her thing either, yet she pulled it off. "it's a little risky, don't you think so? i mean, if it works out, i can see it being pretty sensational, but if not..."

hdharu

"it won't work out." haru's response was swift, an immediate and clinical execution of the lingering silence the exact moment miru's sentence trailed off.

because how could it? haru would have paid a premium to be a fly on the wall during the executive meetings, if only to scrutinise the statistical anomalies and projected metrics they had equipped themselves with to justify such a glaringly futile venture. clearly some of it landed, but haru remained thoroughly unconvinced, regardless of whether he were given the opportunity to eavesdrop.

he swallowed the bite of food he had taken and washed it down with a measured sip of water before he elaborated. "there's only been one co-ed group that achieved relative success, but even that wasn't industry-shaking enough to establish a viable trend. i don't know what makes them so confident they'll be the ones to finally make it work."

objectively, he knew that he was hyper-fixating on the logistical impossibilities and market data—a subconscious reflex to distract himself from the anxiety he felt towards the project. nevertheless, exposure was still exposure. if the group turned out to be a flop, haru assumed the failure would do little to tarnish his image beyond repair, remaining no more than a blip in his career. it was the sheer financial toll that the agency would suffer, if this was anything short of a success, that was more concerning.

he set his chopsticks down together with his bowl of rice, and a faint, uncharacteristic furrow appeared between his brows. "i can't imagine sena-sama endorsing this," he murmured, his tone laced with a quiet, analytical disbelief. "in fact, i can't imagine anyone being fully on board with it. what could they possibly be thinking?"

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hd:debut2k26 #hdmiru

☾ BEAUTIFULLY TERRIFYING UNKNOWN — (solo) co-ed project acceptance.

rarely were haru's thoughts ever quiet. the inside of his head was often a chaotic machine, but tonight—just for tonight—they decided to mellow down into a breathless, fragile quiet. he sat alone on the concrete expanse of the agency's rooftop, gazing up at the twinkling tapestry of the night sky—a vast, ink-black stretch that felt much kinder to him today than it had these past few agonizing weeks.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ prose #hd:debut2k26

hdchaeyeon

that's what he lands on? chaeyeon blinks at haru's reply. of all the things he could've said. of all the dramatic confessions she half-expected. he gives her rules, boundaries. a very HR-approved future. her brain, which has been running in seventeen tabs at once since the meeting, immediately latches onto the wrong things. you see, rules to chaeyeon mean who stands where in interviews. rules mean no dating clauses that somehow always apply harder to the girls. rules mean someone deciding her laugh is too high pitch next to a male vocal.

she squints at him like he's personally responsible for all of it, but that's not fair to him or her, so she quickly softens. "okay, but that's not—" she stops herself, exhales through her nose. regroups. fails to regroup and tries again.

her hands are still holding his, too. chaeyeon forgot about that. she should probably let go... she doesn't. "you being good at rules is comforting," she admits, but her thoughts continue scatter again. dorm layouts. shared vans. fan edits with slow zooms and dramatic captions. someone analyzing the distance between their shoulders in a group photo. the company saying it's progressive. the comments section saying it's oh so scandalous. her dads asking if this was really what she wanted. did she want this?

she studies haru again, because he's easier to look at than her future at the moment. he's so composed it's suspicious. except for the faint pink at his cheeks. or the way he didn't pull his hands away either. she tilts her head at that. "so, what are you actually scared of?"

hdharu

was she... was she not going to let go?

haru's eyes could not help but briefly flick down to where her hands remained firmly wrapped around his. he made it a point, however, not to let his gaze linger, lest she misinterpret the glance and assume he was displeased by the physical contact. he was uncertain why her potential misunderstanding was suddenly such a pressing cause for concern.

for better or for worse, her pointed question helped divert his attention away from his captive hands, cooling a fraction of the warmth rising beneath his skin. yet, he still found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. haru scrambled for a dozen different excuses to avoid truly answering her, but formulating a lie while her eyes were squinting at him with such intense, chaotic scrutiny felt like an impossible task.

so instead, he opted for direct honesty.

"i... i don't really want to talk about it yet." it would have been more accurate to say he could not talk about it yet—because truthfully, it was his sheer inability to process the brewing storm of his own anxieties that prevented him from vocalising them. but untangling that psychological knot required far too much forethought, especially when it came to the inner workings of his emotional state, so he kept all of that to himself and sought to redirect the spotlight.

he shifted slightly in his seat. "but what about you? it seems we both agree that this isn't... it isn't very..."

he paused, his brows furrowing as he searched for the right vocabulary. "sorry, i'm not sure what the word is in korean—possible? it doesn't seem like it will work out well. it's too risky. i think the pr team would be working overtime to minimise any... rumours and misconceptions. it just doesn't seem worth all the trouble."

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hd:debut2k26 #hdchaeyeon #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

hdjaeyi

human behavior / for @hdharu

she walks into the practice room the boys are in and they know who she’s expecting. they hoot, holler, nothing new. it comes with being friends with someone as perfect as haru, she supposes. it’s good practice without the repercussions if they continue to be close when they’re both in the spotlight. jaeyi’s gotten used to their teasing since the first time she’s held conversation with him, but it still manages to make the blood rush to her cheeks.

the instructor wraps up and dismisses them. jaeyi watches haru get his bag, stands by the wall stiffly as she waits for him. “hey,” she greets him, and wonders to herself if she should walk with him all the way to the elevator or to just stay here. she hears the practice room door close shut, signifying the last of them being gone. jaeyi sees their knowing smiles through the glass door, and knows that the redness on her face isn’t helping.

“are you hungry? do you have anything lined up after lunch? i was wondering if it’d be better to just stay here and get a meal later or something. away from their eyes and all that,” she says, dipping her head like they have something to hide.

they don’t, but people have a way of making their own assumptions.

it’s nice having a friend who thinks the same way she does, reserved in the same way she is unlike ken or yeonseok. it’s nice to have his reassurance. “i had something i wanted to ask advice about, actually.”

hdharu

haru had his own... misgivings when it came to the opposite gender, but it seemed he was still deemed a far better candidate for a friend in the female trainees' eyes than the rest of his boisterous male peers. he could easily deduce why, judging by how they would erupt into a chorus of primitive hooting whenever a girl-friend of his would approach him— and he had girl-friends aplenty.

he directed a pointed, level stare through the practice room door and offered jaeyi a quiet murmur of apology before he gently touched her elbow. with a practiced, fluid motion, he guided her around so her back was to the corridor, deliberately using the breadth of his own frame to shield her from any lingering, intrusive lines of sight.

truthfully, the traitorous warmth blooming beneath the skin of his own cheeks should have provided their audience with more entertainment than they deserved for a lifetime.

"advice? from me?" the surprise that came from the request was enough to temporarily derail his thoughts and momentarily override the embarrassment that had begun to simmer under the spotlight of their peers.

a sheepish smile curved his lips and his hand lifted reflexively to anchor the back of his neck, a physical tell of his suddenly shaken equilibrium. "if there's anything i can help with, i'd be happy to. and... you're right. it would be best to get away from them."

he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder while his mind swiftly sifted through its database for optimal escape routes and secret hideaways. "how about... we grab something from the cafeteria and eat elsewhere? i know a place where we can be all alone, if you don't already have a spot in mind."

perhaps 'all alone' was an ill choice of words, but the possible romantic implications it carried had completely failed to register in haru's mind, even after the syllables were already suspended in the air between them, ripe for misinterpretation.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdjaeyi #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

hdyeonseok

don’t tell anyone, haru had said, and something almost akin to apology flickered across yeonseok’s face, because he had grown to become quite fond of the word: don’t. it drew a most decisive line. and yeonseok unfortunately liked balancing himself upon them, those decisive lines— arms out. walking heel to toe. mulling over whether the consequences of crossing were enticing enough. here, the definition of ‘enticing’ was ever in fluctuation. today, it could be to stave off a feeling of boredom. tonight, it could be to sate a ravening appetite. and tomorrow, it could be used to inflict punishment upon whomever it found deserving ( and yeonseok was found, more often than not, regrettably the most deserving ).

he stepped through the threshold and once again managed to forgo an expression of gratitude. pivoted on his heel and began to walk backwards, insistent on keeping his eyes fixed upon the careful construction of haru’s face.

… would it be worth anything, to cross this line?

“nice,” he repeated. then, “quiet.” nothing about either of those words contradicted what haru had already offered. “that’s what you like, then. ‘s it?” his smile softened around the question. it was mostly rhetorical, but the expression of it was perfectly neutral in tone. yeonseok was not particularly eager to pass judgement, and most of what he learned he did not enjoy advancing into assumption. he continued, “but then, how did you find it? if people forget that it’s there, tucked away— ’m guessing you ran into it by accident, or.” his eyes narrowed, playfully. “… maybe y’ like the thought of having an adventure every now and then?”

hdharu

haru offered a small, self-deprecating smile that carried with it just a hint of sheepishness. it was a practiced expression, yes, and one that he had cultivated over the years to deploy in specific situations—either to disarm the other party or to elicit a particular reaction. but this time, there was a genuine sliver of truth hidden within its curves.

"i wouldn't really call it an adventure," he countered softly and shifted the basket of laundry to his hip as they made their way down the corridor towards the lifts.

he pressed the button pointed down and the quiet chime punctuated his next words. "i actually went looking for it intentionally. sometimes... everything can get a little overwhelming."

an understatement, really. to haru, the constant hum of expectations and the unceasing demand to be perceived was not just overwhelming; it could at times be downright suffocating. "it's nice to have a space where i don't have to be exposed to any external stimulus. where i don't really have to think about my next response, or process anyone else's."

the lift doors slid open and haru gestured for yeonseok to enter first, entirely oblivious to the fact that he had just handed the younger male a mapped coordinate to his sanctuary, complete with an implicit invitation to trespass across the very line he had so carelessly drawn.

he stepped in after and asked, with his tone light and his eyes watching the floor numbers descend, "what about you? do you prefer having minimal company as well, like in the laundry room? or do you usually prefer the company of the other trainees when you're not listening to the washers sing?"

the words themselves may have invited sarcasm, but there was no trace of it in his voice. nothing but a genuine curiosity for how similar or different the two of them may be.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdyeonseok

hdriyan

riyan watches haru, who is all jagged edges and wide-eyed static, a beautiful, glitching machine trying to map out a terrain riyan has owned since birth. and right now, he's letting haru be the moon for the hell of it.

"weird?" riyan rolls the word off his tongue like it's a vintage find he's having a hard time deciding whether or not to keep. a gold-leafed smirk tugs at his corners of his mouth, mostly of honey but has just enough sting to keep things interesting. "that's just what boring people call 'interesting' when they're too scared to keep up. keep saying weird things."

he stands up, and reaches out, giving the top of the piano one final, rhythmic tap, a heartbeat in mahogany, before stepping into haru's personal space. he stays just close enough to make the air grow thin, making sure haru can see the absolute, polished confidence in his eyes. "don't believe everything you hear... this is all just high-stakes improv." riyan gives him a wink, a secret or a dare? "but if you're looking for someone to be 'weird' with, you picked the right bench. keep the honesty. it's a good look on you, way better than a contingency plan."

he starts toward the door, his footsteps echoing against the high ceilings in that melodic cadence. "i'll see you around, haru. don't be a stranger to studio 11. or to me." with a final, lazy wave over his shoulder, riyan disappears into the hallway, leaving the room to settle into a silence that feels a lot fuller than it did ten minutes ago.

hdharu

haru registered the shift in air pressure before he fully processed the sudden proximity, and his internal architecture instinctively braced against it. his breath caught, a subtle hitch, and he remained rooted to the floorboards, like a statue of tense, practiced stillness. but beneath his ribcage, something unfamiliar and frighteningly alive gave a violent thud—a reluctant awe, an involuntary response to the sheer, unadulterated confidence riyan wore like a second skin.

'keep the honesty' echoed in the cavern of haru's mind, and he had no idea what to make of it. in his eyes, this entire interaction had been a fumbling of lines that he wished to revise and perfect for a future iteration. he would have much rather been successful than be 'honest', and his honesty was only deployed for the lack of a viable alternative. yet riyan had looked at the glitching, unscripted mess of him and called it a good look.

how could he find this man anything but intriguing?

haru watched riyan turn on his heel, his own hand lifting automatically in a pathetic, puppet-like wave of goodbye that felt entirely inadequate. it was only when the echo of riyan's footsteps faded completely down the hallway that the invisible strings holding haru upright finally snapped. he leaned fully back against the cool plaster of the wall, allowing his shoulders to slump in a rare display of total structural collapse. he let out a breath he felt he had been holding since the door first opened.

his mind began the frantic work of dismantling the minutes that had just transpired. he was a little apprehensive about what the future held, especially when it involved navigating a force as unpredictable as the boy who just left, but the overwhelming sentiment that settled over the dust of his shattered equilibrium was fascination.

haru resolved—with absolute, clinical certainty—that the next time he stumbled into another serendipitous encounter with riyan, he would have a bulleted list of topics to cover at the ready, if only to systematically untangle the multitude of questions that were yet to be answered.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdriyan

hdchaeyeon

café booth conversations vol. 1 —

written for hasegawa haru (@hdharu) ♡

it's been seventy-two hours, and the meeting is still stuck in chaeyeon's brain. she's currently haunting a corner booth in a café near the company, and her sunglasses are propped up in her hair like a plastic tiara she's too tired to wear. the planner in front of her is a wasteland of blank pages, save for a few frantic doodles: cute cakes sliced down the middle, crooked crowns, and two stick figures standing close enough to be a threat, labeled with massive, neon-pink question marks.

she doesn't look up when the seat across from her creaks. the air brings a specific, dry-wood warmth, santal 33, chaeyeon thinks. it's the olfactory equivalent of a vintage leather jacket: a cult classic that's been over-exposed by every cool guy in seoul, yet somehow, on haru, it still feels like a secret. it's understated. it's "i didn't try this hard" in a bottle. a flush creeps up her cheeks, but it's buried away for some time five years from now.

she finally meets his eyes, letting out a breath that's parts sigh, parts exorcism.

"so… are you actually doing this?" she gestures vaguely at the air, as if she could conjure the agency execs and their powerpoint dreams back into the room. "the whole co-ed experiment. shared dorms, which, no. absolutely not! i draw the line at communal bathroom schedules." she slides her sunglasses onto the table with a sharp clack, leans in, grabs his hands, and watches him, searching for a crack in the calm. "please. tell me you're spiraling. i need a spiraling partner."

hdharu

haru was not okay.

the shock that came over him from the proposal that had just been offered to them had soon enough given way to the burgeoning fear of what could arise if things turned south. so absorbed in his fear was he that he had truthfully not seen that the booth was already occupied, and only recognised who it was that he was now sat with when chaeyeon let out a sigh as if she was expelling all of the weight of the world.

haru had just set down his own cup of iced americano when his hands were taken hostage and her eyes bore into his. he was still recovering from the reality of communal bathrooms, so add the physical contact on top that and his brain was working overtime.

should he pull his hands away? it was not that he felt particularly uncomfortable by her touch, nor was the sensation of her warmth entirely unwelcome—a fact that alarmed him more than the intrusion itself. in the end, haru felt too awkward to take initiative and his hands remained where they were, anchored by her grip.

thankfully, the only thing that betrayed haru was the pale colouring of pink across his cheeks—'communal bathroom', it still rung in his ears like a warning shot fired too close for comfort. if not for that, haru was the stillness of the night and the unreadable frost of early winter.

"i... am not spiralling in the same way as you are." haru tried for a sheepish smile but it was brittle and unconvincing. he did not want to confess what was making him apprehensive about accepting the offer. not yet.

"for what it's worth, i don't think you'd have any problems with seungho. as for me..." he trailed off and the sentence hanging in the dry-wood scented air between them. in truth, haru was perhaps the bigger problem for chaeyeon between seungho and himself, in more ways than one. in more ways than haru would like to admit.

he cleared his throat and glanced down at the table, where chaeyeon still had his hands in her grasp—a tangible reminder of the connection he was terrified to sever yet afraid to keep. "i think you have heard enough about me to gauge for yourself how... what i'm like, i suppose. if a communal bathroom is your biggest worry, i'm sure we can work out some boundaries and rules. i am... very good at following rules."

it was a weak reassurance, he knew. rules were easy. people, especially chaeyeon, were not.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hd:debut2k26 #hdchaeyeon

i want to brute force back into the activity i once had so ... LIKE ( or let me slide into your dms ) to plot with / for a starter from HARU !!

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ ooc #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

hdseungho

he didn't think haru was cold. not really. he thought haru was tired in a way that made people look sharp around the edges. like glass left too long in winter. seungho had known men like that. he had been one, sometimes. you learn to keep still so nothing breaks. and seungho listened to him without moving. the sand pressed into his ribs. the sun sat heavy on his chest. he let it. he was good at letting things be heavy if they were honest about it.

the song kept playing. the beat was dumb. catchy. he liked it anyway. lies could still sound good. that didn't make them useless. "yeah," seungho said. "it's a lie." he paused, thinking to add his two cents, then shrugged...

he dug his heel into the sand and flicked grains toward the water carelessly. "you're being optimistic. i don't think they know what they want with us," he went on. "i think they just want us tired enough to stop quit or stop pretending." he pauses, "i could charm the staff to let you have it or i'll go full undercover. reading isn't a crime. if it is, i'll do the time for you." he cracked a small grin, sun-drunk and stupid but sincere.

"we won't get out by giving them what they want," seungho said. "we get out by still being us when they stop the music."

hdharu

seungho had a point. did the architects of this little purgatory indeed have a plan or anticipated outcome for such an arrangement? in theory, haru could reverse-engineer the desired outcome—it was clear they wanted authenticity, packaged for mass consumption—but it was working through all the finer details that made him stumble. he was uncertain of the expectation, and even more uncertain of his ability to meet it.

regardless, haru harbored a quiet, corrosive doubt that he was remotely built for whatever mold they were trying to pour him into.

he let out a sigh, soft and fraying at the edges, and shifted his weight on the sand. "you don't have go that far... it's a risk i'm willing to take. if they confiscate my e-reader, then so be it."

he wanted to steer the conversation back to safer, shallower waters, but seungho's final words hung heavy in the salt air, and he could not find it within himself to not acknowledge them.

"that might be easy for you," haru began, his voice a low murmur that barely carried over the waves. "but for me..." he trailed off, the sentence dissolving not from an unwillingness to speak, but from a fundamental inability to string words together into a coherent sentence.

who am i? who do i want to be? who should i be?

something told him that verbalising the thought was unnecessary; seungho, despite the deceptive simplicity of his sprawl on the beach, seemed to have the capacity to read the subtext written in haru’s silence. haru’s fear now was whether the cameras were capable of the same feat—and he knew, with a sinking certainty, that their lens would be significantly less kind.

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdseungho #hd:debut2k26

hdriyan

for the first time since haru walked in, riyan stills.

not dramatically - nothing that would give away the moment - but the tapping on the piano lid slows, then stops altogether. his eyes lift from the keys back to haru, openly this time, assessing in a way that is… curious. genuinely so.

interesting - that word lands differently coming from him. a soft huff of laughter slips out of riyan, quiet, surprised, not mocking. if anything, it sounds pleased. "see," he says lightly, tilting his head, sunlight-soft confidence settling back into place, "that's exactly what i mean."

he turns on the bench just enough to face haru more fully, one arm draped lazily over the piano like he owns the room - and maybe, in some ways, he does. "most people come in here already knowing what they want from me. or what they think they want." his gaze flicks over haru again, slower now. "you're not doing that."

there's no rush in his movements, no pressure in the space between them. just warmth. gravity. "and for the record," riyan adds, voice lower but still easy, "i'm not offended. takes a lot more than honesty to do that....especially the kind you don't even realize you're giving."

his smile returns, not sharp, not teasing - something quieter, more inviting. "if you wanted to talk, you could've just said that. you didn't need an excuse."

then, almost as an afterthought, he glances back at the keys and hums again, softer this time. "but i'm glad you wandered in anyway. accidental conversations tend to be my favorite."

"so," he says, looking back to haru, eyes bright, sunlit, "what were you hoping we'd talk about?"

hdharu

haru blinked. a slow, mechanical shuttering of his eyelids, like a physical reboot in the face of a social interaction that defied what he had known all his life to be the societal norm. it was only then that haru truly considered the possibility that he had chosen to take on more than he could handle by approaching the other male without any sort of a contingency plan. although he was convinced enough now that he had not disrupted any chance of a positive connection, given the genuine-sounding laugh he received and the smile that seemed more welcoming than sharp and barbed, there were still nuances that escaped him, subtle frequencies that surely any other person would have picked up on. but unfortunately, these intricacies had always been a foreign art to haru.

he felt the gravity of the other male's attention, a warmth that should have been unnerving for someone like himself who preferred the cool detachment of solitude. yet he found himself leaning into it, moth-like and curiosity holding him in place. honesty, he decided, was the only viable tactic left when one had exhausted all other contingencies.

"everything, really," haru confessed with a bit of a sheepish smile, his voice steady despite the scramble of his thoughts. "i just like... hearing? knowing? getting to see how your mind works."

it was a dangerous admission, perhaps. to admit that his true intentions were to pry open the casing of a person just so that he could see how the gears turned, how they processed input and delivered an entirely different output from what haru had originally expected. maybe there were limits to how honest he could truly be.

"and i don't mean that in an offensive way, not at all. the opposite, really," he hurried to clarify, his hands lifting slightly in a gesture of peace. "from what i've seen and heard, you've been going against my first impression of you at every turn, and it is… it's a little fascinating."

he offered a small, self-effacing smile, one that did not quite reach the confusion lingering in his eyes. “sorry if that sounds weird. like i said, people sometimes misunderstand me, so i thought it's better i be honest and have people think i'm weird, rather than have them assume the worst and perceive me as a bad person. right?”

#⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ thread #hdriyan #⌠ ☾⋆ ⌡ queued

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

☾ lacuna.