corrupted.
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.




















