lavender.

the rose discovers she is an instrument of war.

[idremi-blog]

corrupted.

[idremi-blog]

idtaeho‌:

“being honest here with you remi, i was pretty upset you didn’t choose me the second time around,” he says, and his voice seems small here, surrounded by vastness, “we had so much fun on our first date. i was sure my object would catch your attention, but alas…” he trails off, walks towards the center of the stage and waits for her. 

romantic and idol is a stupid show.  that’s what she’s come to believe. they claim such a truthful and organic expression of love between people who are contractually obligated to at least pretend to remain chaste. stupid. there’s to be no winning on a show like that, but at least the world doesn’t have high expectations when it comes to bae remi. she’s a wicked girl, wicked heart, and a wicked good body if she does say so herself. 

olympus fans are, for sure, not liable to want her hanging around their darling oppa, their precious little taeho. if they knew what taeho was like behind the scenes, perhaps they’d realize it was a perfectly fine idea. that he was no better than anyone else was, and was in point of fact markedly worse than some. to be honest, her own indiscretions had made her all but a pariah in the public eye for long enough that she wasn’t too fussed now. her image couldn’t sink to a rockier bottom than it had been at before, so who was she to fret now about the witch hunts. they’d fade in time. and if they didn’t, she’d just sink back into an all consuming depression in the way she had last time. no trouble at all. 

okay, so maybe she’s beginning to unravel at the edges. the stress of being in a group with all the potential and none of the success was exhausting, and the companies continued frantic efforts at re-branding were truly tiring. so taeho, and the distraction he represents? it’s well earned, she thinks. she needs a break from all of this and taeho, with his hands and his smirk and his wicked eyes, provides exactly that. 

so she lets him wrap her up, in banter and in the grip of his arms, in casual barbs and the warmth of his touch. he pulls her out onto the stage, wide and hollow and empty. it extends around them in an endless darkness, shadowed rafters and a barely there, dim light. it’s vast, beautiful, almost intimidating. she breathes deep, follows him into the center of the stage, slides her hands up around his shoulders. “well, you should have picked a more interesting object, that’s hardly my fault,” she points out helpfully, lips twitching into something of a grin. “will you try to pick me next time then? i have to say i’d be pretty disappointed if you ran off to canoodle with ellie or something.” it was perhaps an open secret that her relationship with the girls of jawbreaker was riddled with her own resentment, when it existed at all. 

[idremi-blog]

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[idremi-blog]

idaroon‌:

“and sometimes it’s awful, it feels like everything he does and says is with the intention to hurt me.” and aroon knows it’s not true, hyukjae would never hurt him because he wants to. “like when he was dating, or when he talks about some girl he likes. he never did it on purpose, but it hurts knowing he will never like me this way. but it doesn’t matter now since we’re so weird with each other.” aroon sighs, fingers brushing through the tips of her hair. “maybe being in love with someone who loves you back is better.” he wouldn’t know anyway. “maybe one day i will fall for some guy who will love me back, or maybe you will fall for someone and then you’ll be able to tell me, how do you feel about that?” he asks, half joking, half serious.

“probably.” she agrees idly, examining nails freshly painted an electric purple, overlaid with black star dust glitter, deemed concept suitable. “all anyone cares about is trends. the fact olympus is still outselling titanium proves that,” she points out, not one to argue that fucking “kokobop” had much musical merit behind it. then again, its not like she has a sense of loyalty to the group, truthfully. she’d invested everything in vixen, given her life over to them, and the outcome of that had been only a testament to her own foolishness. so what was the point of setting herself up for that kind of betrayal again? what was the point for setting herself up to fail, for another year spent heartbroken and sulking in her room, dreams scattered like so much dust at her feet. 

she likes the way aroon speaks, the way he eloquently pontificates on the finer points of love. she’s no stranger to the concept, no stranger to the hurts it engenders, and the way aroon begins to wax philosophical has a brief, quiet laugh on her lips. not to laugh at the struggle of his life, but at the way he expresses it. “you’re so maudlin,” she accuses fondly, “ my poor, sentimental friend.” she ruffles her hand through his hair in a gesture she hopes reads as fond as it was intended, drops her palm to pat his shoulder comfortingly. 

“why are things so weird?’ she queries, having been out of the loop on his life somewhat recently, nodding along as she tousles her hair through her fingers, shakes out the strands that have begun to frizz in the humidity, her personal visual struggle. eventually she gives up, gathers it all up to tie in a ponytail that leaves the breeze to cool her neck lightly. “if being in love with someone who loves you back isn’t better, no one would bother writing about it so much,” she helpfully suggests, crosses one leg over the other, a scowl darkening her expression into something sardonic. “not that i’d know anything about that.” she’s had the illusion of love dangled before her in the past, but it always falls flat. gun had been fleeting at best. johyun had been cut off at the root - by her own hand. jaehwan...jaehwan had always been jowi’s, hadn’t he? so what had been the point, then, of any of them, of any love thrown out into the world, if it was only spit back in her face. “i feel like i’ve been so stuck int his nightmare rut that i haven’t talked to you properly in months. maybe that’s why i’ve been so miserable.” she pouts, an exaggerated expression as she examines the boy beside her. 

[thehiddenbaroness]

“Children like being frightened by fairy tales. They have an inborn need to experience powerful emotions. Andersen scared children, but I’m certain that none of them held it against him, not even after they grew up. His marvelous tales abound in indubitably supernatural beings, not to mention talking animals and loquacious buckets. Not everyone in this brotherhood is harmless and well-disposed. The character who turns up most often is death, an implacable individual who steals unexpectedly into the very heart of happiness and carries off the best, the most beloved. Andersen took children seriously. He speaks to them not only about life’s joyous adventures, but about its woes, its miseries, its often undeserved defeats. His fairy tales, peopled with fantastic creatures, are more realistic than whole tons of today’s stories for children, which fret about verisimilitude and avoid wonders like the plague. Andersen had the courage to write stories with unhappy endings. He didn’t believe that you should try to be good because it pays (as today’s moral tales insistently advertise, though it doesn’t necessarily turn out that way in real life), but because evil stems from intellectual and emotional stuntedness and is the one form of poverty that should be shunned.”

— Wisława Szymborska, as quoted by Maria Popova in “The Importance of Being Scared: Polish Nobel Laureate Wisława Szymborska on Fairy Tales and the Necessity of Fear“

[wishyoubacks]

Visit Original Link

[idremi-blog]

synchronicity.

[idremi-blog]

ruwonid‌:

but then ruwon grins, laughs. he’s already knocked back a couple of drinks. and honestly? he’s still not used to all this newfound fame, attention. and he’s not so sure he likes it. part of him is sure that if he were able to he’d offer remi to switch places. he knows she’s chasing after that limelight. of course, ruwon had thought he’d been doing the very same thing. 

he things it’s unfair that he needs to find everything so confusing. maybe he’s not meant for humanity. should be reborn into a shrub. unable to think, but still alive in that way that makes people squint their eyes and ask in a dubious way, really, though? maybe they already do that to him now, the people that really know him.”yeah it’s nice. though i definitely don’t want to do that at all.” he answers her back in reference to hiking. “it would be nice though, i guess. to go on vacation. or just not work.” he sighs back, drowns his newly found sorrows in another sip of his drink.

“the front page of naver?” she laughs, a gasp of feigned surprise, “little ol’ ruwon, on the front page of something. next you’ll be telling me you’re getting brand deals and acting roles.” remi can’t help but be envious, just a little. ruwon deserves all the success he gets, more so than most of the people who gain anything. she wants the best for him, she wants him comfortable and happy in his own skin. she’s not sure he is, right now, and she’s not sure any of this will make him more at ease with himself, but at least its a fraction of the recognition that his talent deserves. he’s got a voice like an angel, after all, and it deserves to be heard. she might be envious, but she’s not bitter. as much as she desires success for herself, wants her own turnaround underdog story, she doesn’t begrudge it of others. or at least, she doesn’t begrudge it of ruwon. maybe because, unlike the girls of jawbreaker for instance, his success doesn’t step directly on her toes.  

she’s happy, too, with the slow but steady gathering of fans around nightmare. the fact that they had a surprising amount of support overseas had come as a bit of a shock to her, and the overseas eating up the subunits was a surprise too. there’s almost an inkling of hope in her now as she continues her path towards eve’s unit debut in the summer. she’s heard the song now, and it’s not even particularly terrible. it’s at least the best of the three, thank god, and with jia getting her name out there (even though, er, more risky measures) it’s liable that there will be more attention on them...and someone to deflect negative attention away from her. she should prorbably send jia a starbucks giftcard or something. like, thanks for helping people forget about my nudes! hallelujah for the fish brain of the public! 

“no hiking, right, i forget you’re as lazy as a house cat,” the dark haired girl agrees, slouching back  into her seat with a sigh. she takes a sip from her drink (and follows it quickly with another, for good measure) before returning attention to the boy beside her. “saw that cute little rookie hitting on you. i guess you’re the trendy sunbae oppa now.” she laughs, slurring ever so slightly over the words as she does. “okay, so right, no hiking. lets go....to the maldives?” she offers, brows lifting, “one of those swanky huts over the ocean. sounds good?” remi laughs, reaches over to prod her fingers into his side, for no reason in particular. she just enjoys harassing him, perhaps.  

[idolsgeneration]

[ughanyul]

you get me closer to god

[idremi-blog]

idjaehwan‌:

because jaehwan is selfish. because he doesn’t even bother thinking she probably doesn’t even want the sight of him. because he just focuses on the tension between the two of them backstage after the concert, the way she looked, the way it reminded of her in his bed, his arms. he finds her on her way outside to the smoking area, a dark corridor where the music seemed muted and the darkness has a tint of green to it, purple. “didn’t think i’d see you here,” jaehwan says and when she looks at him he smiles. he needs another drink. and a cigarette. or two. “leaving already?”

remi is an idiot. everyone’s always known it. she doesn’t have the good sense god gave a goose, to quote her colorful grandmother, still one of the few people she loves truly and freely. she’s trusted too many people in her time, pushed away better people than she’s let into her life, loved more fools than she can count on her hands and toes. she’s a fool, in more ways than one, and the clearest example of that was and always will be jaehwan. 

it’s the fact she’s never quite over him. it’s the fact that she’s never quite forgiven him, for how easily he had tossed it all away. as if jowi was even that fucking special. stupid short bitch. she’d never get what jaehwan saw in a girl with so many screws loose you could hear them rattle from a mile away. ahn jowi was a walking rollercoaster ride to disaster and yeah, okay, remi wasn’t exactly peak stability but at least she had a bit of sense, didn’t run headfirst into everything. 

remi prided herself on her forward-thinking. blind determination was one thing, but remi worked smart, not just hard. the best of both worlds, tactical precision. it was bullshit that jaehwan was so hung up on her. she wasn’t even that pretty. remi had everything on her. bigger boobs, better hair, longer legs, prettier features. 

she’s spent awhile brooding about it tonight, over the edge of a glass of wine, examining the idols as they mix and mingle and trying not to think too much about having run into jaehwan before, backstage. trying not to think about honeyed eyes and the way his gaze feels like it washes over her sticky sweet, clinging like molasses. 

she slinks her way out of the crowds, tired of the pressure to socialize, annoyed with the buzz and bluster that surround her. she’s not in the mood for a party tonight. certainly not one that does so little to further her career, nor, her sadly lacking personal life. she’s already palled around happily with aroon and doted on eunsol. she’s had enough for tonight. 

except, of course it isn’t that easy. jaehwan appears beside her like an apparition, like an avenging angel here to burn her to dust with holy fire.  he seems to light up the dark hallway, brightening it just with his presence, the shadows elongating. she lets out a sigh. “yeah, i was,” she tells him. she should walk away now, but she doesn’t. she shouldn’t entertain the conversation. for her own sake. 

but she does. 

“you leaving too, or is it a smoke break?” she flicks a strand of hair back over her shoulder, adjusts her posture. even now, there’s a part of her that wants to force him to recognize her. to remember he’d tried to love her once. part of her that wants him to love her again. 

as if he’s even capable of that. 

[idsohee-deactivated20190530]

let me down slowly.

[idremi-blog]

idsohee‌:

“it’s okay,” she tells remi, still smiling. “glad you’re not planning to abandon me anytime soon.” a laugh escapes her lips, somehow relieved that their conversation is going well until now, so she keeps her eyes on remi, presses her lips into a thin line. “of course,” she responds. no lie, she really is excited to be here. “i mean it’s still early so the party’s just fine, but maybe it’ll get better as time goes, who knows. that’s how it works, right?” she laughs, lets her slim fingers run through her blonde locks. “if it doesn’t get better, we can always leave anyways.” a vague invitation, it’s a way of sohee telling remi that she’ll go with her if she wants to leave this party behind and do something more fun, probably something like exploring the town together. 

or maybe they could go to somewhere more quiet to talk about stuffs too, about their current status, about all the things sohee has been wanting to ask remi all this time. 

it isn’t sohee’s fault. it’s not fair to sohee. remi knows that.  but she also knows that a public friendship with sohee isn’t possible for either of them. kjh doesn’t want to remember vixen exists and surely doesn’t want to take a look at their new girl group being buddy buddy with a member of the old one, particularly given how problematic remi is, in her own right. it doesn’t help that remi hates juniper, that remi resents jawbreaker for being everything, these days, that vixen had been gearing up to be, down to the style of songs they were being given, the direction they were pushed. no one could convince remi that hobgoblin hadn’t been intended for vixen once- everything about it had been right up vixen’s alley. ridiculous. how easily the industry moved on, recycling the old and useless. leaving her behind. 

it’s not sohee’s fault that remi finds her grating, now. it’s all projection, it’s all on her. but the other’s sunshine and sweetness rubs her the wrong way. her constant optimism makes remi feel like shit. she’s become, now, so particularly ruined and jaded, so desperate and bitter. she doesn’t want to feel like that around sohee. but she doesn’t know how to turn it all off, either. so it has left her at a place where she can no longer identify a positive aspect to a friendship between them. with sohee she feels inadequate and foolish, grouchy and stupid. and what good at all would a friendship between the two of them do for sohee’s image? nothing at all. it would be risky, far too risky, for both of them. her own image was only barely on the mend. she couldn’t risk tabloids talking up her past in conjunction with the new princesses of her old company. 

“yeah, true, you could just bail out whenever.” she agrees, “I told eunsol i’d meet up with her so i’m stuck.” she says, and it’s kind of true, but she’s also pretty sure eunsol would be more than understanding if she ducked away. eunsol didn’t tend to get too hung up on most things. she shifts a little, and sohee stays in place, firmly rooted in smiles and sweetness. “how’s it going lately?’ she tacks on, drowning it with a gulp of her drink, brows raising quizzical in interest as she swallows. 

[idremi-blog]

raindrop.

loading  ↺  a lazy sunday morning with @idjaeyul

it patters against the window panes, a quiet slide against the glass, and that is the sound that finally rouses her from a restful slumber. the sheets are soft against her cheek, her hair a cascade of dark curls around bared shoulders, she rolls over onto her back, blearily blinking her way to a recognition of the morning, of the soft, cool light that filters through the door. the world is washed in a cool toned blue, the gray of the sky dampening the vivid colors of the world, rendering them listless and pale. against that white washed world he stands out like a sore thumb. he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped and skin decorated in needle sculpted art, the black palette almost aggressive against the softness of the light, the pallid palette that surrounds them. he cuts through that dreary langor like a knife. the window is cracked open to allow the trail of smoke to escape, filtering from the end of his cigarette to the cold morning air. the hint of orange flares to life as he draws another breath. 

“morning,” she murmurs, finally drawing herself upright to press her lips to the line of his shoulder blade, a lazy trail marked in teeth and lips as she winds her arms around his waist. “it’s gloomy out,” she says, to say something. not for any reason, an abstract observation to clear the rumble from her throat. her lips curve playfully where they press to his shoulder. “i’m sore,” she adds, sweeps her fingers against his sides. “thanks a lot.” she punctuates the innuendo with a nip of teeth against his shoulder, shifts once more to dramatically flop against the sheets. “give me a shirt to wear, it’s cold.” she laments, drawing the blankets up around her chin, thick lashes fluttering, cutting dark against the line of her cheekbones. 

she watches him move, stiff muscles and a suspended quiet that stretches between them. an understanding, a momentary suspension of the world outside the door. hidden away, here, from the realities of their lives. wrapped up in their own safety, insulated by their own fears. there was a time when remi had sought to cut everyone from her life before out of her life. afraid to look people in the eye in the wake of a scandal like that, afraid to damage them by virtue of her presence. but jaeyul had remained steadfast somehow, slipping between her ribs like a knife. 

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Bertolt Brecht, from Selected Poems: 1913-1958; “Sentimental Song No. 78,”

[idremi-blog]

corrupted.

[idremi-blog]

idtaeho‌:

“is it?” he asks back, eyebrow cocked as he looks around the crowded hall, most people busy with their own affairs. taeho likes it that way, makes things easier. to slip away. to have his own fun. he looks back at her as he takes one step forward, closer to her. “we gotta act like a couple then. you don’t wanna disappoint our lovely fans,” he smiles, wicked as he leans in towards her. he looks down at her and then back at her eyes. “so. we had a date in an arcade. where should we go now?”

taeho is dangerous. 

but bae remi has known many dangerous men, and women, in her time. 

she lets her fingers feather back through silky black strands. tucks her free hand into her pocket and cocks her hip, a grin easy on her lips. she’s not sure how she feels, really, about romantic and idol. the promise of uninterrupted reality isn’t new, but it sits poorly with her, the concept of love exposed like that. at least we got married had the pure decency to be up front about it, with huge camera crews, scripts, orchestrated events. romantic and idol really tried for the reality, paring it all back and pushing them together by chance and circumstance. remi finds it unsettling. 

but taeho she finds intriguing. 

after all, many would warn her away from him. she knows this. she’s heard the stories, of broken hearts and bullied group mates and attitude problems. it’s not that surprising to hear about. a man with that face, in a group with that much attention, of course he’s going to think he’s the top of the world. maybe he should. and anyway, it’s far too familiar to her. plenty have been warned away from her. she’s a slut, she’s a wild card. she’s weird, she’s reckless, she’s damaged goods. it’s only going to hurt your career to be anywhere near her. 

maybe it’s a match made in hell. maybe romantic and idol is the gateway to something damaging and foolish and ultimately irresponsible. she can’t deny the appeal of the buzz they’d create, together, but she’s not fool enough to ruin the renaissance of her image by getting caught. not now. she smiles over at him in turn and tilts her chin slightly, to match his gaze. “i’d hate to let them down, you’re right,” she agrees, brow perking slightly as she clasps her hands behind her back, rock son her heels with a quick thought. “well, a follow up to an arcade is a bit tricky. but how about something a little more exciting this time. anyway i picked the arcade, so you should pick this time. i’m sure you’ve given it some thought.” 

[idremi-blog]

@baeremi_                                                                                                            … 1 min ago.

hola chile  👋

< LOADING COMMENTS … >

@solmibae her legs.... heol....nightmare is such a visual group with her and eunsol noona @choiminz never knew nightmare had a visual like this holy sh*t @gunnr seen it all already, lol         ↪ @hyunfan is it that much fun for you to be such a dick???? 

[idremi-blog]

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[idremi-blog]

idaroon‌:

“please define successful,” aroon says, giggles at the way her voice sounds. “we don’t even have a music show win so we’re on the same boat here.” it’s hard to admit, but titanium is not the must successful group around. people don’t like dark themes, as remi knows very well. “nothing much. working on my lyrics, recording show me the money, being gay and in love, you know, the usual.” he drinks more, sighs. “i got two lyrics on our last album, so i count that as a win, midas is always a pain in the ass when it comes to using my stuff. i don’t know… sometimes i feel like we’re never getting past our niche, you know?” he knows she does. “but i’m too tired to talk about titanium’s shortcomings. tell me, how are you? are you working on those subunit things? knowing you i bet you hate it.”

“how about, more than five people have heard your name before, “ she drawls in return. it’s an exaggeration, but remi is still sore about.... everything. the strange road her life has led her down. she’d been in an underdog company before. clawing her way up with vixen under kjh, debuting too young to know up from down. she’d been forced into a powerful concept before she’d had any idea who she was as a person,  had been slathered in makeup and done up in image management and wrapped up in a neat and tidy package to be hand delivered to the consumer. she’d been a child then, a stupid one, foolish to the extreme.  what had she known of the world at sixteen going on seventeen, to play pretend like that. 

she’d surely been too stupid to stay out of trouble. first with gun and then with johyun, then with pictures. people still asked her, pestered her, referenced it. was it really you? she hates that the most. that the company had put that statement out, all but fueling the fire of contention. it wasn’t really her, they’d said, just a lookalike. when her face had been right there, her moles, her features, her figure. her...everything. 

maybe it was stupid, that she still liked to take pictures. that she still lived her life aggressively publicly, truly even more so than she had before. after scandal, after vixen disbanded, after dropping from kjh, she’d found herself thoroughly exhausted by the camera and the attention. she’d hidden away. dropped johyun like a hot potato. disappeared into the confines of her house, her room, her bed. old friends had fallen by the wayside and new ones hadn’t been anywhere to be found because, frankly, she hadn’t sought them out. hadn’t thought herself deserving. 

returning again had meant rebuilding herself. a new remi, a new image, a new girl. new friends, new support, and amongst them aroon. a bright spot int he dismal moments.  she leans against him now with a laugh, points her toes and sighs. “i do know. god do i know,”she agrees, regarding the issue of the niche. “i guess i’m doing girl crush, this summer,” she explains, “so that’s familiar.” there’s a brief breath of laughter. vixen had been doing girl crush since before it was a genre people talked about. the only difference now was a bit more neon light and a bit less chrome and silver. “it just feels like a death rattle to me, the whole thing. like, if we’re making this move, it’s probably gonna mean there isn’t much life left in us.” she half-explains. “at least midas means your niche still makes some money.”  she sighs, clicks her tongue and flicks a hand through her hair as if to dispel the notions swirling there. “hows  love. hows being in love. i want to know all about it so i can cringe or be envious.” or both. 

[idremi-blog]

synchronicity.

loading ↺ an after party with @ruwonid in chile. 

friendship is a funny thing that sneaks up when you least expect it. that is how things feel with ruwon, at least. she can’t pinpoint the day they met or how they became friends. it happened slowly and organically, running into one another back stage time and again, once more and another. everything had been natural between them, an easy familiarity, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. much like her friendship with aroon, there was never a pressure to be anything besides bae remi, in her simplest and truest form. she’d admit, she’d been generally standoffish around men since the leak. it sort of messed with your mind to know that most of the people you came into contact with had seen you in various states of undress - or at least a girl your company claimed just so happened to look a lot like you. it felt like a truth that was always hiding in the background, hamstringing friendships and relationships alikebefore they really had a chance to bloom and grow. 

perhaps for slightly obvious reasons then, she had found ruwon and aroon to be less intimidating than some others. so when aroon finds himself busied at the after party and they part, she makes the obvious choice and beelines for ruwon. a glass of sangria in hand, the heat of the room is heavy on bared skin and she’s got a pleasant buzz going, is working her way just past tipsy and she should probably stop after this drink, to keep her wits about her, her good sense in tact. but then, she’s not got the very best track record for sensible behavior, has she? she spies the crop of tousled hair in the crowd and heads for him, fits a hand to his bicep to tug at him, turning him to face her with a friendly insistence, distracting his attention from the rookie girl trying to hit on him. poor thing. 

“ruwonnie, i haven’t seen you in ages,” she tells him, pinches his cheek as one’s annoying auntie might, cooing at him with a laugh as she drops her hand quickly, hopes to avoid the expected retaliations. she takes a sip of her sangria and grins, “how are you liking chile so far then?” she queries, clicks her tongue with a sigh, “i’ll admit i’m a fan. the weather is just beautiful. and i want to go hiking in the andes. i wish we had more time here. that it wasn’t just such a fast turnaround for work you know?” she pouts slightly, a sigh on her lips. “guess i oughta get used to that.”

[idsohee-deactivated20190530]

let me down slowly.

[idremi-blog]

idsohee‌:

“god, it’s so hard to meet you these days. were you trying to dump me and end our friendship, huh?” she asks, pretends to look hurt despite only being playful like she always is. “it better not be that because i’m not gonna forgive if you do, remi.” a few seconds her lips curl into a smile, shows how glad she is to run into her friend here. a small part of her hopes remi would deny all her words, but she could only hope, not knowing what it is that drifts them apart all this time. “you look gorgeous,” she compliments, something that remi probably hears often by now. “are you having fun or do you need me to make it fun?” sohee asks playfully again, her smile growing wider this time. it’s true that they haven’t talked in a while, but that doesn’t mean they’re not friends anymore, right? so sohee waits, hopes that all her negative thoughts would go away, as she looks at remi in the eyes. i really missed you, she should have said.

after the scandal, remi’s life had begun to unravel. and when the news of the face of vixen being involved in fucking blackmail broke, of course it was all over. they couldn’t recover from leaked nudes from one member and criminal activity with another. so just like that, in the blink of an eye, everything she had worked so tirelessly toward had withered and died. she’d broken up with johyun. she’d left behind her career. she’d spun out, a useless plane with wings stripped off, tailspinning to crash against the earth below, scattered glass and mangled metal and a slow burning fire. 

in the wake of that, she’d taken a year to get back on her feet. to recover herself mentally, to piece together what she had once been from the wreckage of herself, made into something new and better. or at least, she was hoping for that. but much as she had cut johyun from her life with a brutal efficiency, she’d left behind many of her friends. she’d told herself it had been for their own good- she was damaged goods now, beyond repair. but there was a selfish component, as was so often the case. she had to move forward. she had to reinvent herself, make her image anew, hide in plain sight. being seen with old friends as a memory of what she’d been once, well, that was a great way to screw herself over, to get them hated on for associating with her, to keep her scandals fresh in the eyes of the public. as it was she was slowly absolving herself of her sins with a campaign of relentless, lowgrade exposure. radio shows, music show hosting, little steps that slowly erased the past under an avalanche of aggressively palatable and mediocre content.  and it was working, thank god!

sohee didn’t know when to give up, though. she never had, constantly and relentlessly optimistic and determined. and remi was glad to see her success now, to watch her growing into an idol worth of acclaim and admiration. but there was resentment too, in that jawbreaker so clearly was doing now the songs that had been meant for vixen once, given the opportunities that would have gone to her if she hadn’t ruined it, if their rapper hadn’t been a damn criminal. each of sohee’s successes feels like a cruel reminder of what she could have had, while she sits languishing in a second rate company in a group with too little attention and less brand power.  sohee is a reminder of what she’d had once and who she could have been, what she had wasted, and its hard to look at her now. 

she smiles as the other approaches, regardless, because eyes are everywhere. because sohee deserves at least that much. her laugh is a little strained when it leaves her lips, forced out by propriety and social graces, and her fingers fidget with the ends of her hair in a movement she almost doesn’t recognize as voluntary, a tick that betrays the sudden stutter of her heartbeat. no one likes to be confronted with the awkward, after all. sohee doesn’t deserve your frustrations, she tells herself, she didn’t do anything wrong- you’re the one that fucked up, remi.  “oh yeah, sorry, i’ve been so busy. living that rookie life again and all,” she grins, slanted and set askance.  she drags her fingers through the ends of her hair “i’m having fun. a little bit. i dunno. are you excited?”

[idremi-blog]

corrupted.

loading ↺  backstage banter with @idtaeho

she hasn’t seen him since the filming of romantic and idol, two dates in a row and entirely more tension electric between them than she had anticipated. coming off the stage she’s breathless, dabbing sweat from her temples and distracted. barely notices the weight of his gaze on her as she breezes past on a beeline for the dressing room. the regular set (not that she’d gotten to do much there, not being in a unit, but at least she got a good 50 seconds of singing in fly high) had been a blast, the special stage had been a lot of pressure but it had panned out well. she’d been a lead dancer once, after all. she wonders if they dropped that from her current role specifically to somehow offset the fact that she and eunsol got a disproportionate amount of lines in the group, as if that somehow helped. the way koala.t handles the girls makes little sense to her, and the progression towards subunits certainly isn’t helping. she can’t help but be a little bitter that she’d not had a subunit song to do for the stage after all, just waiting in the wings while the others went through abbreviated versions of their tracks. not that she really wanted either track to herself - especially not dawn’s- but the general jealousy of it still stood. she was a greedy creature, eager to snatch fame at any cost.

she bursts into the changing room with a fervor, eager to strip out of tight fitting clothing and back into the comfortable confines of cotton jeans, a plain white t-shirt, a soft fabric loose against her frame. she washes what feels like a half a mask off of her face, peels off false lashes, and laughs as her stylists laments the downgrade, the rough movements. she’s still done up, liner thick against her eyes in her signature look, trades the thick stage foundation and contouring for a lighter bbcream, applies it deftly because a bare face is basically a cardinal sin around here, and she’s not about to try and live that down, nor remind anyone she skews older for this industry now, for being a rookie.

feeling entirely more herself out of the stage look, she takes a moment to breath, belatedly registering the presence of taeho minutes prior. she casts around to check for her phone but is unsuccessful in locating it through the mass of people, and thus takes advantage of the chaos to, instead, slip out into the hall. it takes a moment or two of meandering aimless in the hall, backtracking their path, to find him, and when she does a grin pulls lopsided over her features. “fancy seeing you here,” she half-jokes, brow perking in amusement as she regards him. she glances around for a moment, “is it a secret filming thing? i hear we’re a fan favorite couple these days.” tongue in cheek. there are no fan favorite couples, with a member of olympus.

[idremi-blog]

dally.

loading ↺ a dalliance with eunsol in chile. 

the slinky black dress suits her, accented by the thick liner drawn against her eyes, feline in it’s intensity. her hair falls in waves and tousles, an effortless chic afforded by a profession that puts entirely too much stock in appearance. eunsol is stunning, as usual, and the change in the atmosphere of the room when they enter is palpable.

remi’s favorite pann articles, appearing more and more lately, discuss how entirely wasted the two girls are in nightmare. the standout visuals of the generation, they call them, and well, remi’s not about to disagree. if they want to say she looks like kim taehee, who on earth is she to correct them? she works hard to look this good, skin care and diet, hours in a makeup chair or at the hairdresser. and yeah, okay, a good deal of genetic blessing, but she’d still like it all appropriately appreciated, thanks.

a few hours into the party they’re both entirely wasted, and remi is clinging to eunsol’s shoulder for support. the slightly taller girl stands on spindly heels and her smile is purely radiant, something unfair in it’s electricity, in its charm and charisma. it’s such a perfect expression, such a clarity to it. eunsol is impossible in that way, where she could so easily breathe life into a room with just the shift of her expression. remi can feel eyes on them as she laughs alongside her friend, hand tangling together with eunsol’s, red nails a stark contrast to the other’s peachy pale skin, and god she’s beautiful. remi nuzzles affectionately at her temple, breathes the smell of her perfume - jasmine and vanilla and sandalwood - and sighs. “this is such a stupid party. those were such stupid stages. this is such a stupid group to be in.” she laments, draws her hand down the other’s arm to tangle their fingertips together again, leaning back from her to pull her along towards the center of the room, drawing the gaze of onlookers as she does. “lets just stay here and party and never go back.”