not that he would, he realizes, but he’d almost like the option, to not feel compelled to put everything on the stage each time, to run himself down to the bone. but it’s in his nature and there’s no fighting that. “you can kinda sing.” he points out - they all know enough to limp along, as part of the whole idol package. he’s been working on it a little, himself. just in case. he needs versatility. he doesn’t have much else going for him, or at least, that’s how it feels. the reality is up to the public to determine, but milo sees himself, sees ghoul, as a weak link, or at least as one that reads as negligible. people know atlas, they know yohan, they know jaekyu, but milo? they don’t know milo,and they barely know ghoul. without the group he’s not got much going for him. he wants to turn that around. “can you imagine yohan’s face if they tried to give us a ballad? maybe they’ll do a vocal unit next time and we can rest.”
jaekyu is impulsive. he’s flickering attention and jittery limbs. he’s words without thought, and aspirations without plans. in a metaphor, jaekyu would be a pile of pieces dumped into a box, shaken about with the expectation that a watch will somehow materialize if it’s rattled around hard enough. there’s a lot going out, but often to plan with how to deal with it all. but, despite it, jaekyu acts cocky enough while he’s busy shaking his useless box of a self around. self confidence is key. fake it till you make it. jaekyu lives by those words.
it’s hard to spot it. he has more than half the world fooled. in reality, he isn’t. he’s outgoing. he’s willing to speak his mind. he’ll try nearly anything once. but all of those things don’t make him self confident. but it’s not like he’s trigger happy about correcting anyone. if they want to think he’s got it all figured out, let them. who wants people to know you’re struggling, really?
but if there’s one person jaekyu’s willing to open up to, it’s always been milo. there’s an understanding there, about the inadequacy. the helpless feeling they trap themselves into. it’s quiet, and stifling. sometimes milo reminds him to breath. and sometimes jaekyu returns the favor, like a heavy fist thumped between the shoulder blades. “kinda,” jaekyu snorts it right back at him. he figures it’s a little true. he’s been trying to improve in stolen bits and pieces. when someone can get him to sit still long enough to properly learn about vocal technique and not have it derailed by a passing, arbitrary train of thought. more difficult than it sounds.
“ha! now i really want one.” the words are shoved in between loud laughter, one hand smacking good naturedly at milo’s shoulder as he wheezes it all out. “or disco, just because want so see someone try to shove yohan in a spandex jumpsuit.” he would suffer as well, of course. but in the end, wouldn’t it be worth it? yohan forever immortalized in thousands of pictures. “fuck, i wish. but it’s probably more likely they’ll start telling johyun he’s talented than let that happen.” that’s a joke. a mean spirited one. but it’s not like milo likes him either, even if he does sometimes like to wander around pretending he’s nice.
seeing milo flip out on someone in pent up fury is probably in the top five on jaekyu’s bucket list -- the one condition being that milo’s not flipping out on him. “man, it’d be nice if we got a vacation soon. one that isn’t filmed. jesus. does it even count, at that point?” he questions out as they both amble along toward the room with atlas’ name taped to the door. forced to wait until they drag them all back out onstage for three minutes to announce a winner. what a productive way to spend their time. not.
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