( SCHEDULE PROMPT ) +5 EXP; +5 RAP | 562 w.
+ LATE-NIGHT RADIO SHOW
so, yes, he lets his members talk a lot more. it’s an attempt to wait for everything else to blow over, even though everyone knows that that scandal will be brought up time and again. at one point, dongwoo had been afraid that it’d run him out of the country, make the police suspicious of him again. the company would be in trouble and he’d be out of a job, and no one would probably bat an eye at the exchange of one disgraced idol with another one. it’s that kind of paranoia that has him seeking something that’d make him relax, force him to, if necessary, and that’s the irony in all this, and that’s why his manager explicitly told him not to open his mouth and let the other guys talk.
with that, he has no issue. they talk about pretty mundane, run-of-the-mill drama. dongwoo doesn’t have any of his own, has no beef he wants to discuss outside the walls where the beef literally punched itself out until it’s raw. that’s what make-up and acting is for, and thankfully he isn’t questioned much. he lets the others answer anything else that’s aimed at the group in general, and for that he thinks he should be given a reward, given that their answers are pretty boring. for a late-night show, this’ll definitely put the listeners to sleep. but who’s kd to interrupt a group member when they’re speaking about some love affair or another?
love is pathetic. weed? weed doesn’t stress you out, doesn’t take up too much of your time. money, sure, and requires as much sneaking around as one would normally do when trying to hide an affair not meant for public enjoyment, but it’s all the same. weed doesn’t start unnecessary fights or becomes passive-aggressive when he’s done something wrong.
“what about you, KD?”
“hm?” he blinks, in the middle of opening his water bottle.
“any juicy details to share? anyone holding you down, keeping you out of trouble?”
the implication is clear, but explicitly, nothing wrong has been said. at this point, he’s learned to let it go. people need to learn how to do the same, and his manager did advise that, as long as he isn’t bothered by it, maybe people would follow his lead, too. unlikely, but just as unlikely as his manager actually giving advice instead of yelling at him. “nah,” he replies, cool and collected and chill. so, so chill. unbothered. deadpan. “i’m too busy with work these days.”
it ends there at that boring answer, obviously scripted. he doesn’t give any more details nor is he pressed to, so the radio host moves onto the next target. so maybe their manager was right, but dongwoo isn’t going to admit that. they’re not out of the water yet, and the sharks are still out for blood. his scandal isn’t the only one out there, and having little to say is going back to basics, square one, reminding people what they liked about him in the first place, if they ever did. that’s the play of the game here, and now dongwoo has to play by the rules.
so he keeps quiet, keeps his silence, and says as very little as possible throughout the show. there’s more than one member in poizn, and no one’s gonna miss his voice in the fray.
“they were saying too many things… be girly but not too girly, be feminine and sexy but not overly sexual, make sure you don’t overdo it but don’t completely slack off… use your usual tone but refine it– you’re sounding twenty-one but we want you to sound twenty-six. how the hell do i differentiate between sounding twenty-one and sounding twenty-six?”
pouting slightly, the young thing swept baby-hairs from her forehead and shifted her weight from one foot to another. the whole wretched thing took too long for her to lower her pride enough to even ask, now she had no choice but to follow through.
“look, i hate to ask you but you’re the only one who doesn’t give a shit enough to do this.”
he hears her first before he looks up from scrolling through his private instagram feed. lately, it’s been a good way to channel the stress from music to something more visual and more immediately insulting. dongwoo doesn’t have to think about whether some tracks were towards him or others; seeing offensive clothing styles on his second account by people he used to know in high school, however, is so offensive that he wonders why he even let himself believe that he was in any way lower than them in the first place. that top with that face? god forbid they ever go out in that horrid outfit wearing...that new nose.
sooyeon’s interruption to his daily internal stress release isn’t appreciated, so when she tells him explicitly not to laugh, he makes a point to look her over and laugh – “oh, you’re not done. continue.”
oh, he didn’t really mean it. he only half listens to what she says. he doesn’t believe all this... whatever she is; never has been fooled by it, and he’s proud to say he never will be. he doesn’t even know where the appeal is, and maybe that’s because he’s seen a lot of her kind and none of her absolute audacity to be genuine about it. it’s interesting and funny on the same vein that it’s annoying, and it’s surprising that, by now, they haven’t totally destroyed each other in public yet. he hums, going back to his phone, letting her words drift around his head and not go anywhere near his precious insta-time. still, he holds up a photo: “you see this? she looks like she’s thirty, but she dresses like she’s eighteen. that’s weird, right? i mean – i guess if she was a bit hotter and a bit more confident, she’d be able to pull it off, but like her, you neither have the natural talent nor...well...much else.”
he pockets the phone begrudgingly, and keeps his hands in his pockets when he speaks. “alright, give me that verse – how you’d usually do it. just do it the way you did before you got all this stupid feedback. i’m sure your coach wasn’t wrong, you just don’t get it.”
( SKILL BUILDING PROMPT ) +5 EXP; +5 PER | 572 w.
+ DETAIL YOUR CHARACTER DOING A MINOR CF APPEARANCE/ENDORSEMENT
sacrifices have always been a necessity in the business, especially when it comes to sacrificing one’s pride. as much as dongwoo would like to distance himself from this kitschy gig, far away from catering to childish teenage fantasies lusting after unattainables, there’s plenty to do outside this line of work and at this point there’s enough life to have gone through to force him into the realisation that his words, angry and horrible and plenty, will never be enough. there are others; bigger voices, deeper influence. from the start dongwoo began from a place of envy and it’s taken him so long to accept that that has put him at an initial disadvantage already. he never had a shot in this business on his own. it’s just regretful that he had to have this epiphany at the very edge of a downward slope.
he’s stubborn and he tries anyway. even in the dressing room he’s arguing over the stylist about someone else’s clothes and wins by mere virtue of his hardheadedness. we don’t have time for this, just let him pick – and he’s not regretful in the least for it. they’re all struggling here. they’ve all been at the bottom before and dongwoo, though he knows that he’s on his way there, won’t go down without a fight.
they tell him to go in front of the camera and smile. before, he would’ve said some stupid quip, some sarcastic remark about how ill-equipped they are to handle KD and his friends, telling them to smile and expecting that it’d be followed without some resistance. he isn’t the one to say it, though, because he hesitates, and instead he just averts his gaze and hides a small laugh behind his fist. he doesn’t deter any arguments from starting up again and he doesn’t object when they say that no one’s going on lunch break if they don’t get a single shot in. he hears someone muttering about how difficult it is to work with some of these idols but he doesn’t refute that, either. he’s not the only one who’s allowed to suffer.
when it’s his turn, though, he cooperates without so much as another argument. it’s funny until it’s wasteful, and dongwoo has plenty of time left to waste doing absolutely anything but trying to be a better person. there’s a joke there, somewhere, about a man who preaches looking his best but refusing to go to any sort of therapy. it’d be an out-of-pocket expense and he’d rather spend it on clothes than talking to a shrink and having to admit that something’s terribly wrong, that somewhere along the line someone fucked up, or he fucked himself up. either way he smiles when instructed, holds the lip balm just right to his face. he makes a show of kissing it, of biting it, of doing whatever to draw attention to the product.
“thank you,” the director says with a sigh. “i guess you’re as good a model as they say.”
he isn’t the first nor is he the last, so KD just shrugs. there’s no point in any sort of praise now. there have been others and there will be more who’ll walk through those doors, easy and difficult all the same. at least in a group, it’s easier to see where his position is, rather than acting solo and being made to believe he’s more special than anybody else.
( SKILL BUILDING PROMPT ) +5 EXP; +5 PER | 855 w.
+ DETAIL YOUR CHARACTER DOING A VLIVE BROADCAST
what with all that’s been happening lately, dongwoo isn’t surprised by now that they’ve been put on the bench again. there’s still some things to do, of course – photoshoots and CFs to look pretty for. dongwoo doesn’t complain about that. he never minds looking pretty for a camera. the best kind of revenge in this industry is a good image. besides, he’s made as much peace as possible concerning that scandal, though he doubts it’ll go away any time soon. he might even be out of the business before it does. none of it stops his manager from trying to get him to maintain a better image – better now than ever, considering everything – and at this point dongwoo is starved for attention that he’d normally be uncomfortable under. there’s nothing like a good drought to make anyone appreciate the value of water.
anyone would expect dongwoo never to show his face in front of the camera again, but a strong image means that he fixed up his room and put up some posters he’d been meaning to frame from a year ago. it’s all fashion, all art. he can’t take back a ruined image. that shit stays with anyone forever, or as long as they’re under the scrutiny of the public, but the least he can do – and he agrees with his manager, for once! – is try to seem normal. good. decent.
the video counts down and clicks to start, and he flashes a smile, still hooded, but as healthy as make-up would allow him to look. instantly the hearts start flooding in. he’s not surprised by that, either. cures are a tenacious bunch, and he may have only bluffed once or twice about being grateful to his fans. he is, truly. there’s no one in this industry who wouldn’t be. they’re the reason why he still has a job, after all.
“hello – thanks for coming in.” it’s provocative, thoughtless, so he rubs the top of his head, under the hood, and mutters. “ah, that sounded weird. thanks for tuning in.”
smile. – of course. that’s important, too. god, how do people do this so often without feeling their faces crack? “it’s been a while, hasn’t it, everyone? poizn has been working hard for all of you, so please support us~”
hey, didn’t he sound like a rookie just now?
LOL not surprising....bye kdruggie...
he chooses to ignore that. “the other members are doing their own stuff right now, so i got to decorate today! do you guys like it?” there’s a strategic way to showing the wall behind him while also keeping attention on him. a bit of his face, perhaps, but a good 60% face 30% background ratio always does the trick. the hood falls back again when he runs his fingers through his hair, “ah~ i bought a lot of it over the years but i never got to hanging any of them around, so it was quite fun doing it without anyone looking over my shoulder. i really like art...and i’m also starting to get into comics–,” lie. he just liked the way it looked, not the stories. heroes don’t exist. “so if you guys would like to recommend some good comics to read, that would be great.”
haha, he really is jobless now...
serves him right
don’t listen to them KD-oppa
we love you so much
get these haters outta here
KD is the best icb this
he ignores it again. this is supposed to be a chance to connect with fans and maybe make new ones – that’s always the deal with these things – but now all he seems to be doing is alienating a bunch of people and making his own fans seem as delusional as everyone says they are. “ah...” his hand curls behind his neck. months ago he would have berated this kind of behaviour, played to his strengths, but now he sucks air through his teeth and swallows his pride and his words. “seems like there’s a lot going on lately, isn’t there? don’t worry, everyone. i’ve been working hard, too. i hope you guys don’t lose your way when you try to reach your dreams. it seems so cheesy. but if you work hard for it, success will come to you. look at my collection!” he smiles and gives a thumbs up, “but that’s all the time we have for today. don’t forget what i said, cures! and seriously, give me suggestions for comics, okay? i want to be able to talk about it with some of you when we meet again. thank you again!” now he waves. it hurts to keep smiling this much, but at least he’s doing it late enough at night that he has every excuse to fall asleep in a face mask.
at least now his manager won’t have anything to complain about. heck, he might even be praised for how well he seemed like a good guy today – or berated for diverging too much from the narrow poizn tightrope, and everyone’s just waiting for them to fall off, one by one.
she didn’t wish to scare him, that wasn’t her intention but a lack of fashion ideas was undoubtedly an emergency. with one final glance at her closet, she sat on her bed with a heavy sigh. she could only wait. but that didn’t stop her from calling him and leaving voice messages as well. ‘’i’m waiting and i’m losing my patience. i hope you’re on your way to my place. i really need you, darling. i don’t want to sound too dramatic, but it feels like my life is falling apart.‘’
dongwoo loves his sleep. he doesn’t treasure it as much as the rest of his group members or some other idols, and certainly doesn’t think it’s worth its weight in gold, but he knows its value. there are times when he doesn’t sleep and he’s at his most productive; other times, he needs twelve hours of shut-eye to get anything out of his brain at all. today would’ve been part of the latter, considering he’s spending his free time fucking up his sleep schedule, but fate bends him over, as it always has, and disrupts any dream of a good rest with a series of incessant noises that pull him from actual restfulness.
he cracks an eye open with the same amount of hatred he holds for camo.
dongwoo slides the message open without looking at the time, and blinks for a while to adjust to the light. he blinks again a few times, slowly, before his brain catches up. this is an ungodly hour, and normally, dongwoo wouldn’t get up for anyone unless some compensation is involved. but this truly is an emergency, and without even a sigh, he gets out of bed with urgency that’d rival 99 ent’s desire to shove poizn back in the jobless dungeon.
[ sms: lee sunjung ] got it will come now
[ sms: lee sunjung ] give me 20
there aren’t many who can rouse him from bed so easily with an emergency. management could tell him the apartment’s on fire and he’d stay in his room. but sunjung is a friend, and one in the same company, and god forbid that he’d let someone who’s actually fun to be with make a fool of herself by looking remotely bad. besides, it’s a little flattering that he’s the go-to guy for fashion emergencies, and he keeps this in mind while brewing coffee, and taking a quick shower while that’s running. by now, choosing the appropriate thing to wear is second nature, and it isn’t the normal kind of hoodie-and-jeans combo that other (lazier) idols might favour. instead, he’s decked out in a trench coat and a wide brim hat fit for a modern-day witch. black is today’s colour, considering the early hour he had to wake up in.
by the time he’s knocking at her door, he’s already half-finished his coffee and five minutes early. “open up,” he calls out tiredly, taking off his hat indoors. there’s nothing fashionable or chic about a misplaced accessory, and one that’s inappropriately worn. nevertheless, he brought it, just in case they have to go on an impromptu shopping trip, too. “your saviour is here, and he’s not a morning person.”
myungeun turned back to face the city, arms holding her knees as she took a deep breath, “the air isn’t that bad tonight.” they picked a good time to do this, or maybe the city was cooperating for the sake of their sanity. just as myungeun was currently facing a few things she wished she didn’t have to, she assumed that there were things in dongwoo’s life that were similar. the upcoming produce project was weighing heavy on her and she wasn’t exactly all too sure what to expect. being a trainee was predictable and she knew how to play that game. being thrust into the world that dongwoo was apart of, though, was terrifying, exiting, and she wanted to run away but run towards it, too. it seemed like everyone she was coming into contact with she had been asking for advice, but tonight was not going to fall into that pattern. tonight was for friendship, tonight was for decompressing.
back in the proverbial dungeon but never out of work, dongwoo would rather keep himself busy than maintain stagnant. being in the same place was comforting until it wasn’t, and once he had gotten over his initial anger and self-pity, he figured that the next best thing to make out of this silence was music instead of ruination, but that doesn’t make anything go away. he can write as much as he can and lock himself in the studio as long as possible, and it still wouldn’t make time go any faster. that scandal, in hindsight, might have contributed to their decline, but that doesn’t mean that they weren’t already heading there in the first place. at this point, scandals should’ve been anyone else’s fault but his. his job is to be quiet, to be intense, to follow orders even though he spits at the retreating feet of anyone who’d dare walk on his pride. but call it regression to the mean, anyway. there must be some sort of normal to fall back to.
it’s the same sort of normal that draws him to the rooftop. it’s been a busy few weeks (months, maybe, but weeks makes his life sound less pathetic and work-oriented), surprisingly enough, and he hasn’t had time lately to breathe. up here, at least, the air is a little clearer. there aren’t many who come up here and disturb the precious silence, sacred and good, and definitely not suffocating. instead it’s comforting. that kind of silence is a luxury, and it’s high time that he had some of it. the mean is a nice skyline and a city full of constant stars, and a girl waiting at the edge of the world.
“hey,” he greets, having little energy for too much sarcasm or bitterness today. the last few weeks have taken that out of him, and recent revelations with mina have certainly made his feelings on the matter more complicated. here, feelings don’t matter as much, or at least his own, unsorted ones. tonight he’s trying, and it’s good enough that he only has a few rolls of the devil’s lettuce to get the both of them through, if she wants to share it with him. but not after food. dongwoo takes a seat across the takeout, finding this space warm enough, and reaches for the drinks first. beer is good for pizza.
“it’s okay. i got busy.” which is not a complete lie. he kept himself busy. at least with some free time he’s able to order himself around, even if it means making himself do the exact same thing anyone else would’ve made him do. the only difference is that he enjoys it, and it’s different enough that it gives him some form of ease. “yeah,” he agrees, “and the food is good as well. props to you for that.” popping the cap open is easy enough if you know the trick to it, and he does. he takes a healthy swig and reaches for a semi-cold slice of pizza. still not bad. “how’s the produce thing going? i hear you’re doing well.”
( to roaring applause, if she had to imagine their audience, even after all these years some heaven and poizn fans still held their rumoured relationship dear in their hearts )
it isn’t always that he gets to feel sorry for himself. if this had been any different, and if he was still riding that high, he would’ve been in much better spirits, high enough to be angry about the structure of the world that’s put him there in the first place. but it takes success to realise failure, and even though it isn’t his fault, there’s still much room left in one’s interpretation of the situation to think that it is. with poizn’s infamy and the amount of scandals they’ve racked up collectively over the years, this last one feels like hitting the last nail on the coffin, and it won’t be surprising at all if they’re put on another prolonged break after this.
“hey, i gotta have some kind of job after 99 puts me out of one again.” and who’s sooyeon to judge that? her privileged origins have never rubbed him the right way, and as much as he jokes and teases and envies her for it, he’s still sure as he was the day they met that there’s no way she’ll be able to understand where he’s coming from. the disbelief – sarcasm, maybe – on her end shouldn’t have been really taken too offensively, but he does. he’s allowed one off day from being an asshole with no feelings.
“not all of us are born like...you,” he says, bitterly enough that he could’ve made quite a business for dark chocolate. “whatever kind of monster you are, the rest of us are born human.” it sounds more venomous than usual, and he doesn’t care enough to rescind his words. he’s allowed this. he is.
he says nothing more when the music starts. this won’t be the stage; they won’t have one, and he doubts now that the choreographer would even show up. it figures. there’s no profit to be made from this, no meaningful experience, no worthwhile activity. he’s too angry when he begins and it shows with every movement, and palms curling to fists and uncurling when they shouldn’t. he knows he’s too stiff. he’s not the best dancer, and will never claim to be, but dongwoo knows when he’s doing badly, and he curses – out of line – but continues anyway, plowing on ungracefully and pathetically, proving perhaps to higher powers that he really deserved getting that week’s-worth of fame tainted and unsalvageable for the rest of his career.
( SKILL BUILDING PROMPT ) +5 EXP; +5 RAP | 724 w.
+ RECORDING AT A MUSIC SHOW (pre-scandal; love scenario era)
take one.
KD falls into place with the rest of them. it’s another long day, another set of promotions, another week of performing. but he does it with gusto, not because his manager tells him to or because the company wants him to or because the group needs him to; he performs with as much energy as his protesting body can muster because of the cure fandom waiting in line, waiting for a bite, a scenario. he doesn’t miss a beat. after all that’s said and done, they’ve always been the most stalwart supporters. maybe nowadays everyone tends to be wishy-washy about who they support, what with wavering new groups and other new talent popping in-and-out of the industry like whack-a-moles, but cures have always been there, somehow, despite all the scandal surrounding their group.
KD owes it to them, most of all.
he forgets, sometimes, that this isn’t about him or his issues with his mother or his apathy towards most other things. it isn’t always about his rage and envy and selfishness; it’s about gratitude, too.
take two.
someone goes out of beat. his foot is in the wrong place. they’re lucky it’s a rehearsal, and as much as he gets chewed out for it, KD wishes that his body can move to the beat as easily as a certain romeo, gliding along the stage with limbs and joints that flow as smoothly as the words fall off KD’s tongue. his mind keeps up; his body cannot. there’s only so much that years of practice can do. sometimes, some people just don’t have the natural affinity for kinesthetics as others. KD is tall and lanky and awkward at best with dance moves that require more. seniors as they are in this industry, they still aren’t skilled enough.
KD still hasn’t given enough – which is an odd thing to demand of himself, given that most of the time, he justifies that he has. all that time and effort can only be used up in so many bursts of energy before he burns out, but he doesn’t, not yet, which means that there must be more fuel to the fire. there must be more to give than this.
take three.
the cameras are live on-stage and he’s living for it.
underground, where he began, and in the small stage of tiny towns where he was discovered under age-old flourescent lights, there isn’t this much love. (the song is too fitting in more ways than one.) people chant their names, and sing alongside them, and others – the more dedicated ones who’ve always believed in this tall, lanky nobody full of quiet, dignified, eloquent anger from a nowhere town – even rap along with him. he hears them among the cheers and aches that he cannot see them. too many lights are trained against his own eyes and at the end of it all, his face aches from the burn of a hundred smiles. they cheer deafeningly, as they always have, and as modest as this might have been compared to their other stages, it is nonetheless humbling.
scene.
when they announce the winners, he’s floored, not because they haven’t won before, but because he didn’t expect this to win.
they’re the bad boys of 99 ent, not love-struck guys felled by love itself. this scenario, however, would not have been possible without love, and for that KD hopes that the spokespeople – more outspoken ones in the group who’ve been tasked to speak for them all – make sure to thank their fans. they don’t disappoint, and KD doesn’t expect anything less. if anything, he should’ve expected more. he gives his own thanks by finding their eyes in the crowd, and waving at them, giving them a rare smile – not because of his own personality, but because this is not the image he’s supposed to have. but what else can he do to show his gratitude, anyway? surely the management will give them some slack now that they’re bringing home substantial amounts of dough, enough to make some bread to feed them all.
maybe KD can buy something nice for himself this time around.
maybe KD can treat the cures to something nice, too, if he works hard enough for it – a song, perhaps, or a solo, if they allow it.
“it’s almost like they’re trying to fire up all these old rumours… and they could’ve picked anyone else for this part. eunbi is a much better dancer than me and sunjung is just as pretty, so why me? seriously.”
there’s not a lot anyone can do when sitting at the bottom of their self-pity well, but as deep as his own could be, it was shallow in comparison to sooyeon’s absolute self-absorption. her attitude didn’t bother him in the least, nor did it ruffle his feathers as it normally would with everyone else. that was just sooyeon, and he knew better than to expect anything more. (more would mean that this is worse than he thought; more would be akin to swallowing glass; more means unnecessary pity.) he wouldn’t change this for the world – even if everything else ended, at least he could count on sooyeon to remain the same top bitch, and he was proud of her for that in the same measure as he resented her for it.
there were people like dongwoo in this world, who took things too seriously, and people like sooyeon who took things seriously so long as it affected them. he sincerely wished he could join the latter group.
instead, he sighed as heavily as possible, standing in front of her and still towering over her with ease, despite her heels. he leaned against the bar, watching her with relative boredom and a slight desperation to focus on anything other than his own troubles. at least with sooyeon around, he could channel whatever odd, sick feeling in his stomach was into general shit-headedness.
“if it wasn’t for this scandal, i would’ve gotten an acting job out of this,” he told her, straightening up restlessly, and headed for the centre of the room. he stood to the side, just a little, to be able to look at himself in the mirror. he may be a mess, but he sure as hell wouldn’t stand looking too much like one. he still had his pride, after all, no matter how diminished it was after this mess. “i don’t know how anyone would want to check out your ass without a magnifying glass. it’s practically non-existent.”
it’s untrue, but he’d rather tease than continue wallowing in self-pity around sooyeon. as much as he trusted her to be herself, he didn’t trust her enough not to pity him. she was like a sister to him, and he’d tell her most things, but not anything that’d garner her pity. god, anything but that! – then he’d know that he’d sunk to the lowest of lows, and how could anyone recover from being granted someone’s unwarranted pity?
so he focused on the other parts of him that didn’t garner baseless sympathy, like his hair, or the way he squared his shoulders and motioned for her to come closer. “hey, don’t ask me that. i personally would’ve preferred someone better-looking,” he replied, motioning all the while for her to turn around so they both faced the mirror. “but we’re in this together, i suppose, even if the stage happens or not. i still think this is a fucking waste of time.”
he throws his phone aside, casting it to the depths of his blanket nest as a substitute as he quickly frees himself. as soon as his feet hit the floor, they slide on the mound of clothes littering his side of the room. cursing under his breath, sejun kicks them under his bed and rushes off to the bathroom, intent on seeing just how fast of a shower he can clock in. lady luck must be on his side (or sejun just works better when he’s bribed with something fun), and he manages to finish in just under 10 minutes. he roughly dries at his hair with a towel while digging through his closet for something acceptable for meeting dongwoo in. but everything he owns pales in comparison to dongwoo’s distinct style and rather than feeling nothing but frustration, sejun throws on the first plain black t-shirt he can find and a pair of his favorite jeans before throwing on the first snapback he sees. comfort over fashion, the life motto he struggles with breaking continues to rear its ugly head, only aided by laziness. patting down his pockets to make sure he has the essentials, he shoves his feet into a pair of well loved shoes and makes a mad dash for the lobby of their apartment building, excitement thrumming through his veins.
being cooped up for so long has had him restless. this is the provisional period for troublemakers like dongwoo. he’s supposed to be the good guy, the one who keeps his head down and stays quiet and let other people have the spotlight and scandal. this was never supposed to be his forte. his previous scandal with sooyeon pales in comparison to this, and poizn can’t handle another one if they want to be allowed to stay together, let alone stay in this business. dongwoo understands his manager’s worry, as much as it pains him to admit, but that doesn’t mean he’d take all of it lying down, either. it was foolish to assume that they’d go easy on him, considering that the rumour was overblown and untrue, while the others’ issues are far deeper and more truthful than his own. the real monsters are always the worst ones, but at least he can escape them by calling an uber.
by the time he checks his text messages again, he’s already inside a car that isn’t his own. ten minutes is already too much; there’s no way he’d make it there in time. it’d take him about twenty more. it’s amazing how being deprived of one’s own form of transportation can be restrictive. dongwoo has forgotten it, and makes a note in his phone to have a lengthy talk to his manager about that. if he had his own car, he’d have gotten here by an alternative, learned route, and a faster one, with as much disregard for speed limits as humanely and legally possible. hopefully his manager won’t ask for his phone in return for his car keys – god knows he won’t be able to choose. he doesn’t talk about this to his uber driver, either; one stranger ruining his life is enough, and he doesn’t need another. only when they pull up to a familiar street does he send a text to sejun again.
[ sms: kim sejun ] i’m outside. let me in.
it’s not really a lie. dongwoo’s already pulling up in front of the building by the time he sends it, and gets out of the car without so much as a word of thanks to the driver. at this point, stars are inconsequential. they have been since he entered the business. he doesn’t think there’d be much left for him, anyway, after this scandal got out. if he had more rage directed at the nobody who blew the whistle, he would’ve directed his energy at that person. instead, all of it is aimed at himself, at the company, at everyone else who’s contributing to the baseless accusations and annoying nicknames online. some of those, he can block out; others, like his own head, can be drowned out now and again by worthy distractions. this, he hopes, counts as one of them.
he tries not too look to expectant about it when he stops at the door. that would be undignified, and would be below the image of dongwoo he projects to everyone else. it’s the only semblance of normality he can cling onto at this point, and he’d rather choke than admit his own desperation for it.
or much less dramatically, waiting in a car, driving through the night. stopping in front of someplace inconspicuous. “hyung, where are we?” he asks, all heavy accents and drawing a cloud on the foggy windshield.
as a senior, KD should know better than to drag around impressionable juniors recommended to him by friends from the underground. call this a victory celebration for the both of them, having endured so much. call it what you will, and it still isn’t appropriate to be lugging around happy kids still-ignorant about the bitterness this life injects in their veins the second they enter it. but – and this continues to be his justification – the boy’s merits come from underground, which tell dongwoo enough about him. aspiring idol or not, this kid looks too excited to be sitting in his car. dongwoo thinks tonight might just be doing sanyi a favour.
decadent is the word for it. sinful comes real close. it’s time likes these where dongwoo thinks he’s living up to being KD from POIZN, what with all the toxin he’s ready to ingest. maybe some of those netizens have a point too, labelling him KDruggie. he hasn’t been caught yet, which is something to be proud of, all things considered.
the ride to their rabbit hole is relatively quiet, which dongwoo is grateful for. he doesn’t want conversation. he already smoked a little before picking up sanyi, and though he doesn’t doubt his ability to drive under the influence (having done it plenty of times before without incident so far), he doubts his ability to multitask, as sober as he’s starting to feel. it’s not a capability he’s eager to see if he has or not; it’s not a very safe test, even though he knows the way by heart. the heaviness has already settled in his hands, his joints, his bones, all the way to the tips of his toes. there’s a certain sluggishness with which he puts the hand brake on and turns the engine off.
“huh?” he looks around at the question, just to see if they’re at the right place. it’s an inconspicuous building nestled between others, the street unsuspecting of the underground hell beyond the door, guarded by a half-asleep man sitting behind a fold-out table. dongwoo’s already shifting around in the glove box beside his seat for a face mask. the people here won’t talk, but it’s better to be safe. he fishes out a spare one and hands it to sanyi. “it’s where i met all my old friends. it’s where you’ll meet yours. but wear this, just in case.” as soon as he makes sure that his wallet and phone are all in his pocket, and that his face is securely hidden behind the mask, he gets out of the car, and waits for sanyi to do the same before locking it, and heads towards the table. he places a few wads of bills on it, gets a nod, and the doors open for them. from it wafts the heavy scent of forbidden, the illicit sounds of rage that’s hardly allowed on the ground they walk. he motions for sanyi to follow. “stick with me, kid. don’t talk to anyone i don’t talk to, understand?”
she looks back at him, water bottle in her hands. “no, we shouldn’t.” it’s blunt, straight to the point in the way that she usually is, smile still plastered on her face. “you’re busy, i’m busy. we don’t have time for this.” those aren’t the only reasons, or even the most important ones, but she stops there, because that’s all there is to say about it.
dongwoo has never been good at reading social situations, which is luckily why he’s been cast as the quiet one. keeping his silence also means keeping his dignity, and avoiding situations like these. it should’ve been the image he stuck with. there must’ve been some reason aside from his total lack of tact that they clamped his mouth down on-stage and encouraged his words instead behind the scenes, where they could do no harm to anyone after being minced through by the editors and producers. he should’ve followed KD’s template instead of dongwoo’s, because his own sure as hell has never worked, and doesn’t seem like it would any time soon. he should have expected the chill in her words, and the brazen off-handed dismissal, cultivated by years of knowing what to do and what to say.
it’s the world they’re in, but he can’t blame that, either.
in the end, there’s really only himself to blame. it must be the sudden news that’s put her off, and the silence on his end in the aftermath. he doesn’t bother to be kind around vivi or the staff that interrupt them. he wonders if this’ll be remembered, too, or if those who approached them heard too much or heard just enough to extrapolate. he should’ve thought this through. should’ve done better. should’ve been less himself and more someone else.
it rubs him the wrong way, anyway. her words are a strange, stinging balm on whatever he thought he was gonna get. at least she’s honest. dongwoo knows better than to believe a smile – he’s not foolish enough to ride all his hopes for this kind of future on a woman who comes and goes whenever she pleases. “oh, good,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck before he’s even aware of it and, when he is, he stops immediately. it’s not a good habit to have – too telling of a lot of things he isn’t allowed to say. even here he’s silenced. maybe this thing between them isn’t as liberating as he thought, after all. maybe it had been for her; maybe now it isn’t.
dongwoo sighs, and lowers his hands in some pseudo-defeat. “yeah, i agree. so...what? we end this...whatever-it-is...until you have time again? until i do? put it on hold?” no, he hasn’t forgotten. as bad a move as it may have been, there’s still some conviction left in him, somehow, stubbornly clinging onto his words by sarcasm and barely-laced venom. “i can’t wait for whenever you feel like, you know. i have shit to do.”
What he says next surprises her. Mina couldn’t have ever fathomed a reality where he’d actually look at her, suggest to head out someplace together and actually give her a warm smile. She frowns lightly, uncertainty in her brows, wide eyes flickering from his down to the design on his shirt as if it could truly distract her from what he’d suggested. Where was the anger? Where was the yelling and telling her to get away? This was different from the routine of push and pull, and she wondered if her efforts had paid off or he was finally far too worn down to waste his energy on shoving her off. “Hm? Yeah— Yes, I’d really like that,” she quietly utters, words soft against the air, frown merged into a hopeful expression instead. Her lips tugged into a gentle smile, not too wide, not too small, just enough to reflect the bittersweetness of this moment and the memories cast further behind. Will you give me a chance? How can I look at you? Am I allowed to admire you again, or will the repeating imagery of the past forbid me from hope? “Would you… really… be okay with that?” Mina questions hesitantly. Please.
what he wants is a little bit of space from someone who’d so easily break his trust, but what he wants and what he needs are too often different things. this discrepancy, borne from years of having to make decisions between them, keeps him on his feet around others who force him to see that there is a difference in the first place. mina is one of those people, and unfortunately so. he trusted her, loved her, against better judgement. he shouldn’t have. he knew back then and he knows now, but there is no use for regretting what he could’ve done. this was his mother’s downfall, and it was extremely ironic that it had been his. he just didn’t know that he’d keep coming back to it, that looking at her would force something so gruesome as a smile aimed at her direction. (how could he not, when she looked like that – like she wasn’t capable of committing something so atrocious and treacherous?)
knowing anything about her anymore would make him fall even deeper, and as much as he wanted to avoid that, it was much better to spend time in the company of someone he knew could destroy him, instead of doing it himself. with her, it would be easy to get up and leave; it was harder to escape his own mind.
“let’s do it,” he suggests, standing up with resolve. “let’s get out of here. i’m tired.” of everything. of this farce, all this bullshit, his mother, his father, and all that he left behind still coming back to haunt him. mina is a ghost he can up and leave physically, but ghosts don’t always smile through tv screens and pretend that everything has been alright all this time. there’s something that’s wrong with her, too, and they both know it. even if he listens to her, even if he knows more about her, there’s still a chance he can leave her again. at least he still has that choice. “don’t make me question it, mina-ssi,” he says, sarcasm-laden politeness. “i don’t want to overthink it too much. if i do, you won’t get this chance again. so...what do you say?”
“Oh shut up,” Kisol grumbles, glaring at the other male, finally gaining a breath before he takes a sip of his water to soothe the ache burning along his throat. He’s always been obvious in his fanboying, but that doesn’t mean Dongwoo has any right to toy around with it and make fun of him (he does). “Hold on a second, you guys all have her number?” he incredulously inquires before toning down his shock and letting a low groan rumble from the hollows of his chest. “I’m not shy, or helpless,” Ki mutters, a sigh in due. “Okay, maybe a tad. There’s a reason I don’t have a number, and it’s cause of you guys and all your teasing,” he glowers, playfully of course, though the disappointment is evident, his hopeless pout tugging on his lips and the slouch of his shoulders. “I’ll prove my merit to her one day.”
there aren’t enough people in the world like kisol. no one quite so broken, and no one who’s dealt with something so similar to his own consequences. granted, in a world like this, despite all their own histories, they’re all aiming for the same fortune, fame, glory – but they were foolish enough to have enjoyed the hubbub that surrounded it while the crowd sang praises; they should have learned that such an avid audience would so quickly turn their affections to hatred, twisting everything that these idols used to be into images that they weren’t. but dongwoo has lived with these men long enough to know – get some sense of, at the very least – who they are and where they’ve been. he’s not the friendliest among them (neither he nor kisol are) but it’s enough, and that gets them through the hardest times that they can. sooyeon isn’t nearly so comforting to be around. she’s handy for a good time but nothing quite so healing as being with some other soul who understands.
“well...that might’ve been a little lie. just me,” he brags, and rightfully so. it’s fun to watch people squirm, and kisol even more so. people like them aren’t known to be like this, and at such a degree. the fact that the mention of someone’s name and a little bit of needling can make kisol react this way makes dongwoo laugh even more. “because i’m special, hyung, unlike you, it seems.” it’s full of sarcasm because there isn’t any need to dial it down. if there had, dongwoo wouldn’t be so comfortable around him. “seems like you don’t want her number, or...?” more teasing. it’s never enough with people he considers friends, and he laughs further when he’s called out on it. “look, it’s really fun to tease you when you get like this and act like we’re in the seventeenth century, or something like that. merit – who the fuck proves their merit to girls these days? just play it cool.” it’s bad advice. dongwoo knows it’s bad advice. but it’s gotten him farther than kisol has, it seems, so it might not be too bad at all. “none of this sitting on your ass and blushing about it! you never know when you guys will be in the same space like this, y’know.”
she unscrews the plastic cap off of the bottle and chugs a considerable amount of its content in her first gulp, humming, happy to finally get to quench some of her thirst. “ i hope i can survive the rest of the day until the long jump, ” she remarks absent mindedly, “ you came second, right? good job! ” it’s genuine. “ i thought i had my race in the bag but you know, you win some you lose some, right? ”
there isn’t any judgement here when she plops ungracefully down on the ground. any other idol would have second thoughts about doing something so undignified in front of the cameras around them, but none of them know what’s going to be cut and what’s going to be included anyway. he hopes for her sake and for kisol’s that her image won’t be abound with rumours by a single act. god knows that everyone’s just waiting to pounce, and frankly, dongwoo doesn’t think the sweet girl deserves it. nor does she deserve his poison, even if her words of praise and compliment rub him the wrong way. these words aren’t always heard, nor are they heard often, and given so freely without something to warrant them. a bottle of water isn’t enough payment for something so sincere. maybe that’s why kisol has taken a liking to her, though dongwoo doubts that his friend has mustered up the courage to talk to such an enigma.
“if you want to survive until the end of the day, don’t drink too quickly. you might choke,” he warned, trying to seem as friendly as possible. they haven’t established a rapport yet, as amazing as that would have been to brag about, and all dongwoo knew about her was kisol’s obsession with the woman. from up close, he could see why his group member thought she was worth bothering about, but she wasn’t dongwoo’s type, so he dismissed the idea quickly. “thanks. you did pretty good, too.”
his doesn’t so genuine, nor is it. this isn’t his forte. he sounds more sarcastic than he means to, but the closest camera doesn’t have a mic guy next to him. they aren’t being recorded, but their expressions sure are, and it’s a calculated move when he moves his hair up from his forehead and fishes around in his pocket for a headband of some kind. there isn’t any, so he sighs, and pulls a smile from the depths of his years of experience performing in front of cameras. “come sit up here. it’s better for your legs and everything.”
