i'm d i f f e r e n t

Kim Mijung. R!ot's Jade Kim

[lgcyujin-arc]

𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒻𝓊𝓁.

[idmijung]

idhojin‌:

                 @idmijung

when he first met her, things were just as awkward. two girls, other than his parents, gracing their doorsteps and suddenly living in his home back in australia. it was confusing times, always curious as to why they had to live here. it’s not like hojin wasn’t old enough to really understand what was going on. it took his older brother to explain everything to him, saying that these girls were in their care now until they return back to their own home.

that they should be treated like family.

and he did just that. he and mijung got along just fine once she was done playing the shy game with him. dragging her to the beaches with him, going on mini adventures while making sure she was doing alright before they took the next step. it was like he was always watching over her, just like how his own brother did with him. it was a nice change of events for him growing up.

it was just harder to watch her leave.

in all honesty, hojin didn’t expect to ever see her again after she left. but to his surprise, they trained in the same company at the same time. and being the self-confident boy he still is, he got jealous at how easily she was accepted as a trainee as to him. someone who went through trial and error before given this chance. however, he learned that there was no need to be that jealous after a week in, completely staying by her side through every tear and bruise from training.

looking back to those times, he’s grateful to have had her in his life. training alone sounded like torture in disguise but seeing her made things a little easier. it was a harder to meet up with both of them now debuted and in their own groups, but he tried his best to see her as much as he can. hojin requested a table far in the back, away from curious eyes, thumbs fiddling with one another as he waited. 

Mijung had never wanted to study abroad. By the time she and Yoojung went to Australia, Mijung had worked long and hard to build herself a small, but strong friend group. She was comfortable. But her parents wouldn’t send Yoojung so far away without someone to watch over her. Who better than her responsible older sister? Mijung never had a real chance to say no. The transition was... difficult. Mijung might have been older, but even at that young age, Yoojung was far more worldly. And confident. And fluent in English. Mijung, ever the shrinking violet, faded into the background and prayed to go home. 

It wasn’t that her host family wasn’t nice. They were kinder than Mijung had any right to expect. They treated her like family, even when she hid from them like a frightened animal. With time, care and a great amount of patience from Hojin and his family, Mijung eventually became comfortable in Australia, too. That wasn’t to say that Mijung didn’t have her fair share of awkward moments. The only male she’d ever been close to was her father. Having two older boys in such close proximity was a minefield, even all they wanted to do was be kind to her. It took Mijung a lot to get used to Hojin and his brother. 

She got there, after a while. They were too caring, too giving to be afraid of for long. Mijung was sure she’d have never learned English if it weren’t for them, wouldn’t have ever felt at home so far away from Busan. Mijung owed them so much. This was why, when the opportunity came to spend an afternoon with Hojin, had jumped at the chance. She cared for few people in life as much as she did him.

Mijung was nervous as she walked into the restaurant. She was always nervous, but this was different. She hadn’t seen Hojin in a while. More than that, though, old feelings from her teens came bubbling back up to the surface. Fairly early on in her stay in Australia, Mijung developed a rather inconvenient crush on Hojin. He was so kind to her, so gentle. His smile lit up a room. Mijung never expressed these feelings to anyone. She swallowed them until she moved to Seoul to become a trainee and thought she would never see him again. She was so very wrong. 

Mijung took a deep breath and went to the table where Hojin was waiting. 

“Oppa,” Mijung said with a smile, more out of habit than anything else. “I’’m sorry I’m late! I hope you weren’t here long. My manager wanted to talk about a role he wants me to audition for. It was very long and boring.”

[idmeiying-blog]

new beginnings

[idmijung]

idmeiying‌:

she’d stayed mostly in the background, as she’d done whenever she attended fansigns not for b.rite. a few people had recognized her, but thankfully it was as b.well’s former master rather than divinity’s miyoung. she wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that, but given the former was much preferred at the moment, she’d settled on happy for now. despite this, she was relatively sure that at least one of the r!ot girls had recognized her, which was why she was taking her time exiting the building. it was a vain hope that any of them would have even the time to speak to her, but it was worth a try. there was so much unsaid, and honestly, meiying had missed those girls a lot.

In the six months since her debut, Mijung had been at her fair share of fansigns. Each felt like torture to shy and awkward Mijung.  It wasn’t as though she weren’t grateful. Mijung felt incredibly validated by the lines of people waiting for her signature, like her years of training had been worth something. She just didn’t know what to do or what to say when they got to her. Staff members were constantly reminding her to smile, to do a bit of fan service. Mijung might’ve been R!iot’s ice queen, but she wasn’t meant to be cold to fans. Mijung tried not to be, yet she always felt like she missed the mark. 

Mijung didn’t know whether to be glad she was one of the least popular members or not. It mean fewer awkward interactions, but it also gave her much more time to over-analyze her actions and regret how she’d acted with each and every fan. She wanted to do better for them, but she didn’t know how. Mijung tried her best to copy the other, more charismatic girls. She had no idea it was working. 

It was while waiting for a fan who was taking her time with the member to her right that Mijung noticed her. Meiying. After she’d left 99, Mijung had desperately hoped to never see her again. It was a deep cut, Meiying’s leaving; she didn’t like to be reminded. Mijung was so happy to have her back after the accident, but she’d left so quickly after that. Mijung never got a proper explanation. She felt abandoned all over again. After what happened with her sister, it was more salt in that same wound. Seeing Meiying in the crowd made it fresh and painful once more. 

Mijung tried to continue the fansign as normal, but it was hard, even more so than usual. All she could think about was the girl she’d once considered a friend hanging around in the background. Mijung made the decision to not tell the other members about Meiying. She knew that whatever shaky facade she managed to keep up just knowing she was there would crumble if she had to talk about her former friend. It was sensible. What wasn’t sensible was Mijung’s bright idea to confront Meiying after the fansign. 

Mijung waiting until most of the fans had cleared out. The staff was busy packing up all of the group’s things. Mijung mumbled a not particularly convincing lie about having left something in the restroom and slipped out the door before anyone could stop her. Her hair was hidden by a hat, her face by a black face mask. Mijung hadn’t really considered what she’d do when she found Meiying, if she was even there still. She just needed to know why. Why was she there? 

Why had she left?

Mijung cleared her throat when she eventually found Meiying hanging around the exit. Her heart pounded in her chest. 

“I want to talk to you.”

[idhojun-blog]

dance the night away

[idmijung]

idhojun‌:

He needed to get out of the dorms, so he had dragged himself to the 99 Entertainment building to practice some choreography. He would never be a great dancer, but he had certainly shown marked improvement from when he first started out. He was sweating profusely by the time he heard the door open behind him. His heart dropped as he saw her standing there. Jade.

A nice, solitary practice session. That’s all Mijung had planned on for the evening. She hadn’t envisioned finding an Imperial member in her favorite practice room. She certainly hadn’t expected to find herself opening the door and walking in anyway even though the room was clearly occupied. But since that night, the night he saved her, Adam had very clearly been avoiding her. Normally reclusive little Mijung would be fine to let that continue. She’d never been one for rocking the boat or drawing attention to herself, idol or no. But she wanted to thank him for what he’d done. She needed to. Adam had always been a kind, if distant sunbae, but it’d meant a lot to Mijung that he’d come to her aid when every one else around had seemed more than willing to let it continue. She wouldn’t bother him long, she justified to herself. Just a few quick words of thanks and then she’d be off to find somewhere else to practice. Surely that wouldn’t be so bad.

Mijung’s heart pounded in her chest as she stepped in the room. Why was nothing ever easy for her? It wasn’t fair. Mijung bowed and tried her best to smile. She couldn’t quite meet Hojun’s eyes.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Adam-sunbaenim,” she said. By what could only be a miracle, her voice hadn’t yet begun to quiver. If she could only keep that up for just a bit longer, she’d be home free. In and out, she told herself. Just get it over with and be on your way. “I just... I never got to thank you for... for helping me. You know, that night you....”

Mijung clearly picked the wrong moment to make eye contact. Her words drifted off as her breath caught in her throat. Her mind was too busy trying to read the expression on his face to focus on what she was meant to be saying. It took Mijung a great deal of concentration to remember why she was there and then even more to manage to shake herself out of it.

“I — th-thank you, Adam-sunbaenim. It meant a great, um, a great deal to me and I wanted to thank you.”

Mijung’s face burned. Why did she always make such a fool of herself? This hadn’t gone the way she planned at all. Hojun surely must’ve thought she was an idiot. He must’ve thought the same that night, after she’d managed to get herself into that situation in the first place. If she’d just walked away when she first began feeling uneasy around that man, neither of them would’ve been in this situation. 

[idmijung]

hi hi everyone. it’s me anna, mother of mijung, danny and nari. imma ‘bout to hit your dashes with three intro posts so prepare yourselves lol

aaannyway, mijung is back and better than ever. she’s more or less the same (brick wall emotionally, obsessed w/dance) but finally, she’s getting what she deserves. well, as best as she can, being in 99. the biggest changes are that she’s finally debuted and that she studied abroad in australia for a few years. more details are under the cut, but please be sure to check out mijung’s revamped bio and profile pages for even more info. like if you want me to slide into those ims and check out mijung’s plots page if you have the time! mijung needs lots more connections now that she’s a debuted idol. 

ooh and don’t forget to add me on discord: annamorgause#4485

mijung is still p much mijung

stoic, kinda stuck up

loyal as all hell to 99 even tho they don’t deserve it

she debuted this january as r!ot’s main dance

stage name: jade

she’s like......the least popular member

but she doesn’t care bc hey, debut

she rlly doesn’t know what to do w/herself now that she’s debuted

so she just goes alone w/it when 99 decides to make her an actress

even tho she’s genuinely terrible lol

she really just wants to be successful to prove that she can and that she deserves it

craaaavvvesss recognition 

and love pls love her

i know she’s a pill but she needs friends and romantic interests lol

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON R!OT’S MAIN DANCE KIM MIJUNG…

Keep reading

[idmijung]

the end

final positive trainee evaluation prompt. (+5 skill, +5 experience) 

It was just a funny quirk of fate that 99 Entertainment’s annual mid-year evaluations fell only days before Dynamo’s scheduled debut. All four members had been told by management that they did not have to participate. After all, it was only the technicality of time that kept them from being debuted idols. That wasn’t quite good enough for Mijung. She’d always been a stickler for the rules. If she was still a trainee at the time of the evaluations, she was still a trainee. Sure, they had already recorded the song and filmed the music video. But it wasn’t real yet, wasn’t official. It wouldn’t be real until she debuted. Maybe it was the heartbreak of MixedUp that made her feel that way. Mijung had counted her chickens before they were hatched and ended up with nothing but broken dreams. 

Mijung walked into the evaluation room. All her coaches and trainers sat at a long table, which, along with their chairs, were the only real pieces of furniture in the room. It had seemed so intimidating the first time she came in for an evaluation. Five years on, it still did. This whole exercise was pointless, none of it really mattered, but Mijung still felt her heart rate rise as she walked to the small “x” on the floor that marked where the trainees were supposed to stand. The coaches sat silently for a moment, appraising Mijung for the final time. Her vocal coach was the first to speak.

“Mijung-ah,” she said. “You’ve grown a lot since we first met, haven’t you?”

The woman smiled kindly at Mijung. There was a certain amount of pride in her words. Understandably so, as it’d been under her tutelage that Mijung had grown from a so-so singer to being one of only two vocalists chosen to debut in Dynamo. When she first came to Seoul, first stepped foot in the 99 building, Yoojung had her bested in every category but dancing. But where Yoojung had been lazy and impatient, Mijung had been diligent and dedicated. Her vocal talen didn’t come as naturally as Yoojung’s but that had hardly stopped her. Mijung, who at the start was only there to support her sister, had long since surpassed her vocally.

The vocal coach spoke a bit more, giving her final thoughts and pointers. After her the rap instructor went next.

“We haven’t worked together long,” he said. It was true, Mijung had very little training in rap in  her five years at 99. She’d always been a dancer first, a vocalist second and then nothing else. But, after Dynamo’s debut song was chosen, the company was quick to give Mijung as much rap practice as possible to get her prepared for her lines. “But I am very impressed with the progress you’ve made in that time. I can only see you going up from here.”

It continued down the line, from performance to dance and media training. Each coach spoke their piece, giving everything from comments on their time working with Mijung to her growth to her determination and talent. None bothered with many negative notes. They weren’t doing this for themselves. No, this was for Mijung. She was the one who had insisted on this. They wanted to help build her up before she debuted and faced the harsh realties of being a proper idol. Mijung, for her part, listened quietly as she always did. Her face was impassive, but her words betrayed her when she finally spoke. 

“Thank you for your words and your time,” Mijung said, voice cracking. “I owe you all so very much and I promise I won’t forget it.”

[idmijung]

the final strech

[idmijung]

idhojun‌:

Hojun did not want to end his debut before it began, so he bit his tongue. He instead started the music again, beginning from the top. It was easier choreography than a lot of stuff he practiced before, but he still needed to get it right. He had not spent the past five years training to ruin it after their first performance. In fact, he knew Mijung would never let him live it down and Jinkyong would probably look at him with pity, even though she was hardly the lead dance either. He went through the movements, flowing a bit more smoothly. He messed up. He swore. “Fuck.” Then he started over again. He was going to make her say oppa sixty times after this section of the practice. Somewhere in between all the rap practice. He still couldn’t believe she had a rap her very first time out. Was it nerves that was making him fuck up? His hand was mildly shaking. “Fuck everything,” he said. He resisted the urge to fling the boombox across the room. “I am going to have fucking nightmares about this song.”

The urge to hit Hojun was strong for Mijung. It generally was, but that was more of a low simmer in the background. White noise, more than anything else. But in that moment Mijung very specifically wanted to smack him across the face. She didn’t, of course. That would have left a mark, which would have impacted their debut. Instead, Mijung grit her teeth and stopped music. She was not going to let him ruin this for her. Or for himself for that matter. It was clear to Mijung that the main roadblock in Hojun’s way was his own mind. If anyone could recognize that, it was her. She’d dealt with the same problem on her own countless times since she was a child. Mijung might not have been able to fix her own issue but maybe she could help Hojun.

“You’re too much in your head,” Mijung said. Her words were blunt, to the point. She wasn’t a kind, comforting teacher. That wasn’t what Hojun needed and even if it was, she wouldn’t be able to manage it. “You’re thinking about it too much. Putting too much pressure on each movement.”

Mijung eyed Hojun. From his shaking hand to his temper, it was clear he was distressed. They weren’t going to get anywhere with him in that state. Honey was no nowhere to be found in this practice room. It did not bode well for their debut stages, as annoying as she found his bright, shiny persona. Mijung closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. She didn’t want to see his stupid face when she spoke her next words. 

“Maybe...” Mijung paused. It would be easy enough to just make him run through it again. But they wouldn’t be making any progress if she did that. It would be a waste of time and they had so little left. She needed to bite the bullet, take one for the team. “...Maybe you need to take your mind off of it for a minute and then come back clear-headed. Why don’t we work on my rap for a while, instead?”

After a moment, Mijung opened her eyes to gauge Hojun’s reaction. She had purposely not mentioned the ‘personality’ training they had scheduled for this practice session as well. She had no doubt he’d find a way to worm it in, anyway, and didn’t want to give him any extra ammunition. 

[idmijung]

the final strech

last minute preperations a 99 entertainment practice room with @idhojun

This was it. Years of effort, of blood, sweat and tears were finally about to pay off. Not just for Mijung, but for Hojun as well. They’d both worked so hard for this, given up so much. It was very nearly in their grasp. All they had to do was make it through these last few hurdles without falling and they’d have the debut they both dreamed of. It shouldn’t have been a question. In reality, it wasn’t. But it was just so like them both to spend their last days and weeks as trainees getting in all of the practice they could. 

“No, like this,” Mijung said demonstrating a move for Hojun. His dancing had vastly improved since they’d worked out their little arrangement, but that didn’t mean it was up to Mijung’s standards. To be fair, very few things were. “You have to be more loose when you move your arms. Don’t be so stiff.”

There was no use mincing words. Mijung wasn’t going to let a little thing like courtesy make her look like a fool during her own debut stage. Mijung did the move again, at half time to emphasize the fluidity of it, before stepping back to further asses Hojun’s dancing. It wasn’t half bad. But again, half bad wasn’t good enough. Besides, no matter how hard Mijung rode him during dance, practice, Hojun would be equally hard on her, if not more so, during the next portion of this little practice session. 

Mijung had been working on her rapping skills for weeks now but it wasn’t enough for either of them. Nothing ever was in their little game of give and take. Mijung helped Hojun with his dancing and Hojun did his best to fix Mijung’s flow and complete lack of personality. They were both unforgiving taskmasters, but each benefited from the other’s knowledge and skill. Mijung was convinced this deal of theirs had gotten them both this far. Now she just needed it to take them to the finish line. 

She took a step back, arms folded, to watch Hojun run through it again. To Mijung’s disappointment, the choreography wasn’t particularly hard. It made sense, though, given certain members, skill levels. They were clearly catering to Hojun’s dancing ability, or lack thereof. If they were going to dumb down the dancing, Mijung’s one talent, she’d be damned if all four of them didn’t look picture perfect. If they did well with the basic stuff, then surely 99 would let them have more complicated choreography later on. Getting Hojun to master the Hola Hola choreo was her ticket to finally being able to do something she really enjoyed on stage.

[idmijung]

an olive branch

in the recording studio with @idjinkyong

Mijung sat in the studio, a few seats away from Jinkyong. They were each waiting for their turn to record as the lead rapper finished up his parts. Mijung had been pleased to find she didn’t mind the song. The song, however, was not what was on her mind.

To say that Mijung was on edge would almost be redundant. When wasn’t she on edge? But this was a bit different. This time her attitude actually mattered. She was a hair’s breadth away from debuting. She was in the studio, recording their debut song. Soon she wouldn’t be a moody trainee anymore. She’d be a rookie idol with all eyes on her. Mijung knew, despite how much it would pain her, that she needed to get over the fact that she did not like Jang Jinkyong. 

It hadn’t always been this way. Jinkyong had always been a hardworking and dedicated trainee. They weren’t the best of friends, but Mijung had respected her from a distance. That was the most anyone could hope for from her, really. Things changed after Jinkyong was among the 99 trainees selected to try audition for the Produce Project. Mijung, of course, had been considered, but this was at the tail end of the slow collapse of the promised MixedUp debut. Mijung was in limbo, not legally able to join another group but also unlikely to debut herself. This only added to Mijung’s growing sense of bitterness toward Jinkyong and Minyoung, who of course rose to brilliant heights on the much more successful program. When they both debuted in Pro.logue, it was just that much more salt being poured on Mijung’s still open wounds. Minyoung’s leaving was the final straw, tainting Jinkyong by association and leaving little hope that a friendship could ever blossom. 

A friendship was still not in the cards, but Mijung knew that, like with Hojun, she would have to come to some sort of understand with Jinkyong. They were debuting together whether Mijung liked it or not (Mijung did not, in fact, like it). Mijung wasn’t going to let her bitterness get in the way of the group’s success. Not after she’d worked so hard for so long. 

She just had to bite the bullet, Mijung told herself. The Jinkyong problem wasn’t going to go away on its own. Mijung took a deep breath to center herself, build up her strength, before turning to Jinkyong. She would need all she could muster.

“Jinkyong-ssi, you’ve done this a few more times than I have. Do you have any advice?”

[annyeongidols]

[idxwei]

our dawn is hotter than day

[idmijung]

idxwei‌:

“By the way, you look nice,” he said. He probably should have said that a while back. It was the gentlemanly thing to do towards her. He admittedly did not have many people skills outside of schmoozing, but even he knew that much. “It’s a good color on you.” Wei looked out the window, feeling the breeze hit him across the face, his hair flopping all around. He tried to smooth it down, then gave up at the futile effort. He supposed no one was likely to recognize him anyways. He was damn well outside of Korea and his fanbase was still limited to Asian countries. Mostly China, for obvious reasons. “And don’t worry about the stages. Soon enough, it is going to be you up there. Assuming you don’t kill your groupmates before you guys manage to debut.” He barely knew the other members of Mijung’s upcoming group, but he gathered she was not exactly fond of them. To be fair though, she was not fond of most people. Maybe that was why she and Wei got along so well. There was no one else willing to tolerate them outside of work. “Trust me, it isn’t as satisfying as it sounds,” he joked. 

The breeze was a welcome respite but Mijung’s flush remained. The cool air drifted over her did little to help the heat in her cheeks. Mijung wasn’t used to compliments. You have to like someone to compliment them and no one seemed to like her. Mijung gave Wei and nod and a shy smile before turning and looking at the window. She was like that, silent, eyes on the passing Chilean countryside the rest of the bus ride. Unlike before, however, Mijung found it difficult to focus on the majesty of the area around her. She felt a fool for reacting the way she did. It was ridiculous, silly. And yet her blush didn’t subside. 

It wasn’t until Mijung could see the sand of the beach, smell the salt of the ocean on the breeze, that Mijung’s expression changed. Her eyes became bright and wide and Mijung let out a small, happy gasp. She grinned as she watched the shoreline grow closer and closer. She might have even bounced in her seat a little, like an excited child, not that she would ever admit it. They were there. 

Mijung managed to contain herself as she waited for the bus to empty, but that ended the moment she set foot on the sandy beach. It was beautiful. It wasn’t the same as she remembered — of course it wouldn’t be. She was half a world away — but it was beautiful all the same. The beach was pristine, the breeze cool. The waves seemed to glisten in the sun. It made her feel warm. Not the uncomfortable warmth she felt on the bus, but a safe and happy kind of warm. Without warning, Mijung removed her flip flops and went barreling down the beach. She ran all the way to the place were the waves met the sand. Mijung allowed herself a moment to enjoy the feeling of the water washing over her feet, her toes wiggling in the wet sand. She closed her eyes and, if only for a moment, she felt as though she were a child again, back in Busan with her father and her sisters. Back when things were simpler and she was happy.

It took loud shouting in Spanish to bring Mijung back to the present, for her to realize she was in Chile and not Korea. Mijung opened her eyes and looked around. Her blush returned as she realized she had abandoned Wei by the bus in her excitement. 

“Oppa!” She called out, scrambling away from the water. “Oh! Oppa I’m so sorry!”

[idmijung]

¿Quieres bailar?

[idmijung]

idjunseo‌:

“you want to trade?” he laughs, throwing a towel in her direction, “i promise you no one will be happy watching me dance to heaven songs,” he doesn’t say how he knows someone in the group who would be more than less happy to even see him these days. “though i wouldn’t mind if it was a song like egotistic or touch ma body,” his index finger and thumb rub against his chin as he pretends to ponder the thought, “nah, let’s not do that to the fans.”

Mijung’s lips spread into a smile, wide and genuine, as she dodges his towel. It was an unusual sight to see for someone whom many considered the 99 trainee’s resident queen of the resting bitch face. But it was welcome. No one liked being bottled up all the time, not even Kim Mijung. She was grateful for Junseo’s humor, grateful to have a senior who made her feel so at ease, even in a stressful situation. Mijung was grateful to have anyone that made her feel comfortable and not like a stick in the mud. She was very much a stick in the mud but Mijung didn’t appreciate being reminded so often.

“I don’t know, sunbae, I think some of them might enjoy it.” She said cocking her head to the side in attempt to seem thoughtful. The facade was quickly broken as a laugh, warm to match her smile, erupted from Mijung at the thought of Junseo dancing to Heaven’s sexy and feminine choreography. "I know I would.”

If only it were this easy with everyone, Mijung thought. It was a more a testament to Junseo’s comforting presence than her own ability to adapt that she felt any lightness at all. He was a crutch. One she woudn’t give up easily, but one she wished she didn’t need. Yoojung never had a problem throwing herself into new opportunities and different situations. Could she, just once, be like her little sister?

“I just hope that when I debut...” Mijung said. It was always ‘when’ with Mijung, not ‘if’. She wouldn’t be able to function if she conceded that after all her time and effort, she might not debut. She’d keep chugging along at 99 until she was old and grey if that was what it took. If her talent didn’t get her there, surely her persistence would. “I hope they give me something more to work with. I know rookies don’t have a lot of say, but surely they wouldn’t pick me to be in a group that didn’t require some skill, right?”

Mijung looked at Junseo, eyes wide, pleading almost. She wanted more comfort from him. She hoped he’d be willing to give just a little more. She needed it. Mijung waited a beat before shaking her head and looking away. “Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? We should get back to practice.”

[idmijung]

test prep

interview prompt (2/3), +3 skill, +3 experience)

After five years of working, waiting and wanting, Mijung finally found herself on the edge of debuting. It hadn’t been announced to the public yet just who 99 planned to debut in their mysterious new group, but privately Mijung and three others had been told that they’d earned the highly coveted spots in the coed group they’d been fighting over for months. Mijung tried to temper her expections, to keep from getting her hopes up. After the mess of MixedUp, Mijung knew better than most how a promise of debut can fall apart. Still, it was hard not to get excited. She’d been striving for this for so long and it finally felt within her grasp. All she had to do was keep pushing until she got to the finish line.

Mijung felt like she was cramming for a final test. Like everyone was. The training staff at 99 had never been lax, exactly, but it’d been common knowledge for years that the company didn’t plan on debuting a new group for some time. There would always be time to soften the rough edges later. Except, with the new, firm deadline, there was no more time to be had. Mijung and the others had to be ship-shape within only a few weeks. That wasn’t to say they were altogether far off of their goal — they had been chosen over all other trainees, after all  —  but each had their own faults. Faults that seemed glaringly obvious when compared to their otherwise perfect, shining veneers. Mijung’s, as always, was her personality. As if a month of intense training could somehow make her into a bright mood-maker, the 99 staff decided the best way to deal with Mijung’s problem was to constantly run through interview and variety scenarios. It was like a late night study session the day before the exam.

“Who is the single most influence person to your career?” One of Mijung’s coaches rattled off from a seemingly never ending list of questions. “Be it in a musical capacity or otherwise.”

Her sister. That’s the answer that immediately came to Mijung’s mind. Her entire career as a trainee was based on devotion to, and later spite for, her sister. But even Mijung knew that wasn’t an acceptable answer. Mijung knew from watching interviews of other idols (this was also part of their recent cram sessions) that many gave touching and elaborate answers about friends, family members or mentors that inspired them. Mijung didn’t have anyone like that and she knew that if she tried to lie and make one up, it would be painfully obvious. Instead, she would settle for a half-truth. 

“It’s hard to pick just one,” Mijung said, forcing a smile. “Any one of my sunbaes in POIZN, Imperial, Heaven or Celeste have been inspirations to me to keep working hard so that someday I could be like them.”

The answer wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. They were never going to get perfect for Mijung, no matter how long they went at it. Not for this. The coach moved on. “Have you experienced a defining point in your career?”

Mijung struggled to keep the smile on her face. The answer to this, too, was obvious. “When I was on MixedUp, I...” Mijung had to chose her words carefully. The pain she still felt threatened to spill over. “....I think my time on that show taught me a lot. It’s bittersweet. I learned a lot and I try to focus on that, not so much the negatives. It’s regrettable that I lost a certain opportunity, but I’m stronger for it.”

“If you were given the chance,” the coach continued. Her answer must have been acceptable. “Would you do it all again the same way?”

No, of course not, Mijung wanted to scream. She’d have never gone on MixedUp. She’d have waited for the Produce Project and debuted there like Minyoung did. If she really thought about it, Mijung might have never even followed her sister to Seoul. She’d be comfortable in some dance company in Busan by now instead of having spent the last half a decade struggling to debut. This, of course, was the wrong answer. 

“I...” Mijung paused and the coach gave her a pointed look. She couldn’t blatantly lie and say, yes, I’m happy with where I’ve landed and how. It would be obviously untrue. “There are certain things I wish I could change about my journey. But my father always tells me that there’s no point in dwelling on the past. It won’t change no matter what you do. I try to follow his example in that way. It’s my journey and it’s made me who I am today.”

[idxwei]

our dawn is hotter than day

[idmijung]

idxwei‌:

Wei was already down to a tank top and swim trunks, but he was still sweating. He had taken to going around his hotel room shirtless, just trying to cool off. “It has also been a while since I had time to go to the beach.” Wei was trying. He really was. As simple as the comments seemed, he wanted to bond with her, to have at least someone he could talk to, though that had backfired him enough. But it was incredibly lonely. He usually just talked to Mijung about dance, since it was basically her life’s work. What other things could he talk to her about? Boys? Girls? People? Who was attractive on the bus stop? He wasn’t sure. So, he landed on the normal standby. Dance. “Are you going to have a chance to perform as a backup dancer?” He didn’t mention it, but he doubted she was here for pleasure. They were both workaholics.

“I’ve never been out of Korea,” Mijung said, still looking out the window. Her tone was a bit dazed and she couldn’t take her eyes off the scenery. It was so different from what she was used to. She’d grown up in Busan proper. It didn’t compare to Seoul but was still very much an industrialized city. The rolling hills and lush green vistas of the countryside outside of Santiago were captivating. It was strange to realize just how different the world could be. Mijung’s existence, her whole frame of reference for how things could be, was in Korea. Watching as they rushed past strange trees and unfamiliar mountains made Mijung feel small. But all the same, she was unable to look away. Mijung didn’t stop to think that this might make Wei feel left out. She’d always had trouble putting herself in the shoes of others.

At the mention of dance, Mijung’s ears perked up. Slowly, she turned her head — the Chilean countryside proved to be a difficult temptation to resist — but eventually she was looking at Wei. She noticed the beads of sweat rolling down his skin and for the first time, Mijung became fully aware of how hot it was inside the non-air conditioned bus. Maybe she should open the window... Oh, but hadn’t Wei said something?

“Oh!” She said after a brief moment. Her cheeks were flushed, though Mijung would blame the heat instead of any embarrassment she might have felt from having been staring at her senior in silence. “Yes! The Heaven sub-unit, Heaven1004, has a stage. I’m one of the backup dancers for that. It’s really easy, actually. I could do it in my sleep, oppa. I’m sure the stages you’re doing are much more interesting.”

Mijung brushed her ponytail back and tugged at one of the straps of the tank top she wore over her swimsuit. This unintentionally exposed her collarbone and the strap of her bikini. She began using her floppy hat to fan herself. How did it get so hot all of the sudden? She definitely needed to open the window. She placed her hat on her lap and reached up to let the breeze in. The window, however, decided not to cooperate. It wouldn’t budge.

“Oppa,” Mijung said sheepishly. Her face turned one shade of red darker. All the excitement and wonder from earlier had disappeared and was replaced with embarrassment.“do you think you could...?”

[idmijung]

¿Quieres bailar?

last minute practice session in santiago, chile with @idjunseo

Mijung went through the beats of the choreography in her head. Out of instinct, her body followed, but her movements were small and subtle. She wasn’t dancing so much as skimming through the moves. She could do the Ma Boy choreography blindfolded. It was painfully simple. A waste of her time and talent just to be used to fill up the stage when everyone’s eyes would only be on the two idols. But Mijung knew that this was the cost of being a trainee and that she should feel honored to have been invited halfway across the world to South America just to do such a simple little dance. And she did. It was why she was even bothering with this practice in the first place. Mijung told herself that at least.

There was another reason that she wouldn’t admit to anyone, not even herself. Mijung was nervous. Scared, even. It seemed silly — it was silly — to be anxious about doing the easiest dance she’d ever learned on stage. She’d done it before. Mijung had been one of Heaven1004′s backup dancers during their promotions last year. None of this was new, with one exception: the location of the stage. 

Mijung had never been out of Korea before, much less to a different continent. Until she became of a trainee, she’d never even been out of Busan. Seoul seemed like such a large adjustment at the time. Santiago? It blew that out of the water. Forget about her Busan satoori not always being understood. Mijung didn’t even speak the language of Chile. She was completely at the mercy of the staff members that did. It was overwhelming to feel so out of her depth. She felt helpless. It was only natural that Mijung turn to dance. It had always been her pillar in times of stress. Dance knew no language. It was universal. 

“I’d rather be practicing your dance than mine, Sunbae” Mijung said to Junseo. It was true. Imperial’s choreography was infinity more dynamic than Heaven1004′s. Still, she was happy just to have something to do to take her mind off of her situation. Junseo’s presence helped. It was comforting to be around someone she knew, doing something they both shared. “Perhaps we should trade.”

Mijung had never been much of a teaser. It was something of a miracle that she felt comfortable enough with Junseo to even attempt it. 

[idxwei]

our dawn is hotter than day

[idmijung]

idxwei‌:

He met her outside the hotel. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to make sure Junior had everything he needed.” He had also needed to apply about six layers of sunscreen. He didn’t mind a tan, but he did mind skin cancer. “Ready to go to the beach? I wonder what the water is like here.”

Mijung was surprised when Wei invited her to the beach. She always was when he did things like that. What would a successful idol want from a lowly trainee such as herself? But, he treated her kindly. With respect. This was enough to push past Mijung’s fears and uncertainty, every time. Mijung was a lonely creature. She craved any attention Wei or anyone else would give her.  Mijung had spent so long on the outside looking in that an invitation from Wei seemed like a blessing. A gift not to be questioned.

“I only just got here, oppa, no need to worry,” Mijung fibbed. She been waiting for about fifteen minutes, but for a chance for genuine human interaction? She’d wait much longer. “It should be a short walk to the bus that will take us to the beach.”

Being from Busan, Mijung was no stranger to beaches. It wasn’t unusual for her father to pile all three of his girls into the car and travel to Haeundae or Gwangalli beach on a whim on any given summer day. These were some of Mijung’s fondest memories. Splashing around in the ocean with her sisters, their father buying ice cream for everyone with the request that they not mention it to their mother. Smiles and laughter. Innocent, easy fun. The beaches of Chile had a lot to live up to.

Mijung adjusted her wide-brimmed floppy hat as they walked the streets of Santiago. There was little need for talking on the five minute walk to the bus station. Even with Wei, Mijung prefered it that way. She never trusted herself to say the right thing, and so she often stayed silent. The ride to Viña del Mar would be about an hour and a half and they could easily walk to the beach from there. The south american sun beat down on them as they made the short journey. Mijung was glad they had decided to leave early in the morning, before the sun’s full effect could be felt. They’d surely be enjoying the cool ocean waters before it got too warm. 

On the bus, Mijung selected a window seat, near the back. She wanted to enjoy the scenery. Few opportunities such as this were afforded to her as a trainee. Mijung wanted to make the most of it. 

[idmijung]

no comment

interview prompt (1/3), +3 skill, +3 experience) 

Mijung tugged at the hem of her shirt. The crop top she wore had been fine for dance practice, but it left her feeling bare as she waited for her turn in the “hot seat”. Mijung hated media training. She knew that she, more than most, needed it. But that was the problem. Mijung was both introverted and a perfectionist. Her immediate and obvious failures in the ‘public’ part of being an idol left deep cuts to her self-esteem. She’d been at 99 so long now, that Mijung was so used to excelling at everything. Everything but this.

“Mijung-ah, you’re up,” the media training teacher set, pulling Mijung out of her spiraling thoughts. Mijung hesitated a moment before getting up and sitting in front of her. It was all Mijung could to do look her in the eyes and force a small smile. It wasn’t very convincing, the look on her teacher’s face told Mijung that. “Alri”ght, you’ve done this before, so we’ll jump right in, shall we?”

Mijung gave a weak nod. She almost wished for the moment of roleplaying the newer trainees got, their teacher taking on the role of MC, easing them into the questions. But Mijung was a veteran. She knew the program. If anyone could benefit from being plunged in the deep end, surely it was Mijung, who still often stuttered her answers, five years into her training,

“Now please tell us: Is there something the public doesn’t know about you?”

Oh, they certainly weren’t wading through the shallow waters. A loaded question, right off the bat. Mijung had to physically force herself to not gulp. There were so many ways to get this one wrong. She could reveal something truly personal, but that would only set netizens’ tongues a-wagging. IF she said something boring, or obvious, she’d be labeled as plain, not worthy of being an idol. Mijung was frozen in thought until her teacher no-so-subtlety cleared her throat. 

“Ah, well, that’s a difficult question. After being on MixedUp, I would think that the public would know most of what there is to know. I think... I think I’ve mentioned it before, but I really dream of choreographing songs for my group. That’s a passion I have. Would that count?”

The teacher gave a disapproving look, but pushed on. “What an interesting answer, Mijung-ssi. What do you wish to show to the public? Your choreography? Or something else?”

“Oh yes, I’d love to show my choreography,” Mijung said. She was simultaneously grateful to be given an easier question and also disappointed in herself for so clearly failing. “Dance is my life. It has been since I was a little girl. I feel that through dance, anyone can express themselves in a pure and honest way. A way that words don’t always capture. I’d like to share that with the public.”

“That’s a lovely thought, Mijung-ssi,” the media coach said. Mijung hoped it was a genuine senticment. She thought it was. Or was that just wishful thinking? Either way, the coach’s tone had softened, her smile returning. “I have one more question for you today. Would you choose singing or dancing if you had to pick one? “

“Dancing.” Mijung’s answer was immediate. She didn’t need to think, even for a second. Perhaps she should have. Singing was such an integral part to her becoming an idol. If she wanted to dance, she could just be a backup dancer. But Mijung was honest to a fault, as always. “I enjoy singing, I really do but... I feel most myself when I’m dancing. It’s who I am. I wouldn't exist without dance.”

Mijung’s teacher scribbled a few notes on Mijung’s chart before releasing her and calling up her next victim. Mijung exhaled deeply as she walked away. She hoped she’d done enough.