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“d’you think all the articles will praise our natural chemistry as a couple, or should i be as openly stiff with you as possible while still fulfilling the contract adequately?” she half-jokes, more to fill the silence than anything else. he looks at her with those eyes, with that intensity, and it makes her squirm. it always has. at least before she’d been secure in believing he’d had an honest interest in her, one that had outweighed her own interest, at least at first. it had been her sweet spot as a result. finding out later his early intrigue was mostly affected? it had left her offkilter.
rogun prefers solo schedules. he doesn’t hate his group. but he does sometimes feel disconnected - and that disconnect is often forced by his own hand. he likes being his own entity, not one part of the whole. that had been what he’d broken away from. or tried to. he’d just found it again immediate after in the form of an idol group. he just hadn’t realized it at the time. and it turns out that if you don’t get up to too much trouble, companies like hiring you more, without all those members with scandals stapled to their names.
it shouldn’t be surprisingly. that he’s here now with ryan. they’re in two of the more veteran groups of the industry. it’s only natural that they’d field their opportunity to those who’ve been around long enough that their fans might not lash out. idols with clean enough histories. rogun’s always found it funny, how that works.
“hasn’t jinx been around long enough for you to stop acting like men are a foreign concept?” it’s a joke, and a he grins. it’s not quite cocky. that’s the annoying part. it’s halfway there. the sort of expression where it can’t be called out. it could be innate, or charming. rogun’s learned to use it to his advantage, over the years. has basically turned it into his concept.
everyone has their own story. it’s a revelation that stayed with rogun over the years. but what everyone wants is for others to buy into their story. what they dream as true. this biased, dog eared thing everyone drags around with them is toted as the truth. everything nice, that they want noticed is highlighted to pull in at attention. pretty snippets of the truth. blocked are the words slashed through with white out, omissions that they don’t want reaching out, swaying opinions. sometimes the story is small. one of a life. a chaptered moment. sometimes it’s large, thick and burdensome. a bible dropped to a chest.
ryan has her own story. she flips it back to the appendix, finds that page from the past: and unbeknownst to her, she fell into his game. the narrator tells of her folly. and she’s gone and circled it fifteen times in red pen and shoved it under his nose.
rogun’s got his own book, too. with annotations, and footnotes a weighty and confusing thing. and he played a game, ryan among them. an idiot in his youth.1
a scribble in the margins -- that was the start, and then i loved her.
sometimes narrators are reliable. sometimes they hide the truth. from the readers. from the story itself. and sometimes narrators are silenced. pages torn out. crossed through in black ink. stories aren’t reliable. but everyone reads them. what other choice do they all have?
“i’d prefer the chemistry, isn’t that easier?” he asks, it slides out smooth. he crosses the room, comes closer in their very small window of time before work starts. before there are cameras, stylists, directors blotting the pages between them.
1 and here we can see a man hiding his guilt. hiding it behind excuses of triviality. here we can see a man burdened with sin. will he ever learn to embrace it? will he ever welcome this evil?
he’s gotten tan, his time in the army doing him all the physical favors in the world, muscles straining beneath broadcloth. she sighs a little, lips pursing slightly. “you made me feel like an idiot,” she tells him, she doesn’t forgive him, not yet. she might not ever. she’s got a tendency to hold onto grudges. and there’s a damaging of trust there, part of her sure she’s the same bullied, stupid little outsider she always has been. coming back to seoul had been, she’d hoped, a new start of inclusion and kindness, but she’d found herself too anglicized for korea and too korean for the english speaking countries, occupying a strange liminal space. she sighs. “you should at least apologize. you know it was shitty of you to involve me in that bullshit.” she points out, brow arching. “even if my charms swayed you later. you could at least grovel a tiny bit.”
“only retroactively.” he says this like that makes it all okay. to him, it does.
“and i didn’t go around dating everyone i slept with.” another one of those arguments that just doesn’t seem like a good idea to a third party. and rogun’s not necessarily an idiot. they’ve just always been like this. feeding into this strange and toxic cloud that hides them both from the rest of the world. they can threaten and fight, act like they can storm cloud away this whole thing, like it won’t just beat down acid rain and leave them just as trapped as before. there’s an assurance to rogun. be it good or bad, but part of him feels like he knows ryan loves him still.
the same way he loves her.
the same way he keeps loving her. no matter how many times they dash themselves against the rocks. tumble into the ocean. the tide always brings them back together. so let them be tragic. so let them be water stained and warped. so let them be less than ideal, spewing out words that don’t sound the least bit romantic.
and whatever it is about it. them. her. it draws rogun back. over and over again. in ways that nobody else could. he’s a firm denier of fate, but that’s something forced on his own behalf. a part of him, he thinks, has been swayed. a part infected. a part deserving of something other than happiness. the part that scares him is that he craves it. wants more. and that’s something he shouldn’t want. it seems to go against logic, his upbringing, his flagship of faith.
“i’m the most sorry. i definitely should’ve slept with someone else from your group instead.” his head falls back as he talks, and he wears a smile. there’s laughter he can’s stop, but he wraps an arm around ryan’s waist and pulls her closer before she can stomp her way off, huffing and puffing and blowing things out of the water. “really, i’m sorry. but i haven’t even thought about the whole fucking thing in ages.” that’s true. he sighs, glances toward the door. wonders how much time he has before he can show the small viewer-base that he’s passable in the kitchen (luckily, that’s more than what most expect out of him, so it should go over well).
and as he looks at him right then, hazel eyes locked on rogun’s features, there’s something that aches. because there’s this distance between them and it’s not only because of the things he knows. they used to be close, the two of them. maybe the only guys in poizn who could say without any shadow of doubt that they were good friends. and now here he is, looking for words, scared of the silence. he wonders if what they had can be saved, restored in any way. he wonders if when rogun knows, he’ll forgive him.
there’s that age old adage - it’s like getting back on bicycle. memory kicks in, those learned habits. geet to petals, hands to bars and you understand how to keep from falling off, something that a five year old cannot. it holds true now. rogun finds himself slipping right back into that old routine. he knows what to do. he knows how to act. but he’s different. like an old jacket that doesn’t fit anymore. the sleeves too short. not quite right. that’s how poizn feels right now. his schedules, too. rogun’s not so sure what he’d expected though, coming back. he hadn’t put too much thought into it.
he hadn’t put too much thought into the things that would happen while he was gone, either. what the rest of poizn might’ve gotten up to. how hyuk would’ve fared. the sheer idea of him and ryan getting together would never have occurred to him. never will, without a little prompting.
“how’d you convince them to keep you?” he laughs it back, reaches a hand out ot shove at his friend’s shoulder, a grin on his lips as he glances around the studio. hyuk’s questions drifts lazily toward him. something rogun almost doesn’t want to bother with. it’s not like hyuk needs to know the stipulations of his contract. he doesn’t want to deal with that obnoxious variant of jealousy upon the realization he might not have negotiated as well as he could’ve.
but he ends up relenting. “i talked it over with management. i went into it with the mindset that i wouldn’t re-sign. but they told me they’d help me get my foot in the door, to act more seriously. i guess we rake in enough money that throwing money at casting agents so they’ll give me a chance seems like a worthwhile option.” rogun shrugs, what does he know about the business end aspects of it? all he knows is money, and the importance of hiring a very, very good lawyer.
“what about you, do anything, or did you just get into a scandal without me here to save you?” another joke, rogun’s smiling. it still manages to look a little sharp.
her eyes glint steely, bright when the other grabs her wrist. she’d been inviting it. he pulls her closer, tugs her hand, grazes full lips soft against her knuckles and as he tugs, she stands. it’s a quick step towards him, and another, until she’s standing between parted legs, features arranged still in a frown, a stubborn pout as she drops a hand to his shoulder, skims it lightly against the fabric of his shirt. her thumb grazes, traces the line of his neck, lingers against the hollow of his throat. “i don’t know that the boy i missed was real.” she drawls thoughtfully, “i don’t know much about anything, apparently. it seems like i’m really easy to lie too. stupid little bitch, believing whatever i’m told.” she sighs, airy and soft, just the barest hint of forlorn. “so why should i believe you miss me?” she adds, a thoughtful, wistful challenge as she raises her fingertips to flick her fingers through his bangs as she gazes down at him.
the army isn’t just a place that one flounces off to for vacation. it’s tiring. and the amount of money he’d lost out on - cf deals, acting gigs, is probably astounding. but at least it’s over. at least he can try to put the stress of it all behind him. a fact that will garner him positive attention in the articles, distance himself slightly from members of poizn who haven’t gone. members of poizn who make trouble for themselves. and he has a deal, now. hopefully a deal that will help him create a bigger fortune for himself, and himself alone. rogun is, according to multiple sections of his latest contract, not splitting those acting profits with anyone else in his group.
it’s not a surprising deal, not even that uncommon. but he wanted to make sure 99 wouldn’t screw him out of the solo promotions that he was after. wasn’t going to meddle on his path to trying to shift goals. shift public perception. become known as an actor first, idol second. they were probably hoping he would just fail. either that or just content that they could keep tacking his name up next to the rest of poizn. at least they didn’t have to worry about him. not when it came to what the media knew. not when it came to what they knew.
but rogun was never pure. rogun was never thoughtful. and rogun was never without scandal. he was just exceptional at keeping all of his secrets buried, hidden out of sight. his relationship with ryan, for one thing, would’ve been a scandal. would still be one now. but probably not as big as when they were younger. when their fans were more rabid. focused singularly on them, on make-believe fantasies, before they’d one out and figured out how to get lives. figured out how to flirt and find themselves a date.
rogun watches, amused, when ryan stands. she’s all dramatic in moments like these. like she thinks there’s a hidden camera pointed at her, tracking her movements. like there’s a whole swath of people, clipboards at the ready, prepared to rather her one-five on the different variable she’s about to enact. sultry enough? sneer mean enough? her gait slow and eye-catching enough. rogun would sometimes blurt out a laugh when she got like this, despite knowing it would turn into an argument. or, knowing it would. fights to the both of them seem to be filed into that realm of taboo, yet enticing. they shouldn’t, but they do. then they make up in a way that doesn’t feel like forgiveness ( though what does? ).
he keeps it locked up for now though. just curves a brow up at her when she stops, speaks.
“so what am i then, a ghost?” rogun says it like a joke. because it is one. this entire situation, really. lifts his hands in a stretch and tucks them both behind his head to lean back against. “an omission isn’t a lie, but even if it was did i just keep it going for kicks? don’t be stupid on purpose. or if you want to be, go find someone else who’s into it.” it’s odd, considering rogun’s supposedly the one in the dog house. but you don’t win these sorts of game just accepting the role as a pawn.
“so then don’t.”
rogun smiles. it’s debonair. an unfair sort of charming.
— catching up on years gone by, evening, with @idsungyeol at rogun’s new apartment.
there should be many people that rogun can point to as a friend. a close one. the type where, if you called them in the middle of the night, you’d know they’d pick up. you’d kknow they’d put aside as much as they could to come and help you. but rogun doesn’t. there are surface friends, sure. friends he got to know. friends he played games with, had fun with. but the close sort? that best man at your wedding sort? those are few and far between.
sungyeol’s one of them though. it’s a little funny, looking back, because nobody would have thought it were possible at first. words exchanged in an unsubtle manner of distaste. rogun hadn’t really had a problem with sungyeol, but sungyeol seemed to have one with him and so he went along with it. got tangled up in a petty game befitting of a young man with too much hubris, pride. a whole wash of terrible traits he was alternating between denying and wearing like a rebellious badge of honor.
but something had broken through the prejudice built up high between them. a hole in the stone and it crumbled down into dust. tread over, and then down. paved flat between them. there’s nobody else that rogun is more open ton in the industry. sungyeol’s who he feels the most at ease about. his fans are convinced it’s the rest of poizn. or should be the rest of poizn. but that’s always been an interesting subject to take on. rogun’s disinterest with the group, with music at large. the realization that he was somewhat out of place among ambitious enough musicians. the realization that he’d drop them like dead weight from the top of a balloon if he could. if it was advantageous of him.
rogun’s not a very nice person, even if he was raised in supposedly hallowed halls. but sungyeol already knows that. and despite it, he still shows up at rogun’s new apartment. and rogun offers him a drink. fits himself down on a newly bought sofa. nearly everything, it seems, is newly bought. it’s amazing how much space there was to fill when there weren’t four other boys to clutter it all up. when he could pick out just how large of a place he’d wanted.
“and what’s been up with you? please tell me it’s entertaining.”
— keeping up appearances at a radio show, evening, with @hyukid next to him.
in all of poizn, rogun’s always been the closest to hyuk. they both hadn’t trained for all that long before they were slated for debut. were two vocalist that felt slightly backburnered compared to the rap-focus that poizn was deemed to have. the spotlight placed on those who could do so. it was natural that they fell together. supported each other through poizn’s rockier years. they were similar, and they were not, but in that forced situation you learn to make it work. it’s far better than the alternative. deciding to forgo any possibility of platitude just for spite. making your environment miserable.
two years without maintaining an ritual change things though. there’s something subtly different between them now, something that rogun can’t quite place. but he doesn’t confront it. he’s still getting back into the swing of things. promotional cycles, catching back up with the group, learning the choreography to new songs he doesn’t care about. ending up on this radio show to promote a group he’d been essentially removed from for a short time.
pretending he still cares about their success.
he’s happy for the break they’re given somewhere in the middle. but with nothing else to do aside from flick through already answered texts on his phone, he finds himself turning to hyuk. nudging the other’s foot with him phone. a familiar gesture. it used to be, anyway. now it feels almost nostalgic.
“having fun?” he smiles as he talks. it looks like a secret, trading intentions behind the scenes. where they’re both sometimes miserable. would both rather be anywhere else. he stretches his arms up with a groan, tucks them behind his head and scratches at his nape. “i’m surprised they re-signed everyone.” it sounds like a joke, but there’s a part of him that’s serious. he’s pretty sure hyuk can recognize that part of him. after all, they’ve lived with each other for years now. shared a room, talked. sometimes about nothing. sometimes about things that they should’ve have been talking about. sometimes drunk. sometimes sober. rogun has a whole collection of memories that he shares with hyuk.
but he doesn’t yet know that he’ll eventually come to disregard them all.
she means this as a summary reply to all his comments. san’s not responding. she looks up, makes the mistake of eye contact. it’s electric and immediate, the effect he has on her, and she lets her eyes narrow, as if that isn’t the case. “don’t smile at me right now, you’re smiling at me, you stupid dick, like you don’t know good and well i’m fucking mad at you,” she hisses at him, but it’s half plaintive complaint, even as she swats at his shoulder with her hand. even if she’s going to ruin him, he’s gonna have to work for it a little. wouldn’t be believable otherwise.
the game had been atrocious.how had it even started? a dare? pure hubris stacked on top of the assumption that they should all live like gods? enticing, tallying up points. it’s not like rogun got inherently better, as a person, just because he served in the army. but he grew. changed, like nearly everyone does. parts of himself growing, receding. he’d left the game even before he left for the army. but he definitely outgrew the entire concept of it while he was there.
playing it had been a bored past time. a pissing contest. who could get the most girls? who had the most game? that kind of a thing. but it didn’t run his life. it was like a phone game you clicked on when you were bored. something to rile your friends about.
ryan had started out as someone he approached, the sole intention to sleep with her. to add a point to his score sheet. but he’d stuck around because he’d liked her. because he liked spending time with her. a casual relationship that eventually deepened into a gorge like situation. a chasm that was caused by a stick of dynamite he’d planted there, sure. but they’d both fallen into it. and they both fed into the chaos that eventually mutated into their relationship.
it had started off as a game, but it hadn’t finished in one. and sure, rogun could understand her being pissed over that. pissed over him playing along with that game at all. but it took a complete fool to believe that she’d meant nothing to him. they’d dated for a full year. obviously she’d meant something to him. but taking any juicy opportunity for an argument that would cast him in a bad light, that would lend to her dragging him down further and further into their abyss of a relationship wasn’t uncommon. and he, in turn, doing the same.
they were a messed up pair, the two of them. mad and madly in love.
he’s sure she still loves him back, even if she refuses to admit it. “my parent’s would disapprove.” it’s a joke to the tune of her harsh words. the grin’s still in place, like he finds everything amusing. stepping back into a familiar doorway, mistaking it all for something pure. wasn’t that how they always operated, though? snakes of people twisted up tight, hiding underneath patches of wildflowers that they called their image.
“i know you’re made at me. but it’s stupid to be. you haven’t seen me in two years. you missed me.” rogun’s accusing again. and he reaches up his hand to circle long fingers around her wrist when she shoves at him. lets them rest there, thumb stroking in place.
“i missed you,” he adds, pulls her hand close enough to ghost his lips across her knuckles.
— moving into a new apartment, evening, with @idmilo in tow.
moving is never fun, but at least he has enough money where the whole process is filled with ease. the truck had rumbled up, loaded everything out, deposited it into his new place. he’s been waiting a long time for this level of privacy. there was something to 99′s decision. even being placed in the middle of that situation, rogun was never blind. a lot of his group tended to outpace them with how far they were comfortable with testing the lines of rebellion.
rogun went through phases. but he was raised to keep everything hidden in closets. let skeletons pile up there, out of sight. keep on that smile. a blinding distracting. let people call you perfect. let them believe it. appearances are everything. if you maintain them well enough, then they can become a new sort of reality.
his parents aren’t good people. but they’ve deluded themselves into thinking they deserve that pathway to heaven. a collection of money stolen from pockets, a faith that’s been rearranged to fit needs. but the world works much the same. the idol world exists in a similar paradigm. everything is made up in expected appearances, rituals. if you betray the expectations to your followers, you’re cast aside. it had been funny when rogun made that revelation one day. he thought he’d escaped that life, but landed in a near carbon copy. a few details changed like a half-assed college essay.
he’s happy that milo had volunteered to help though, when rogun had mentioned through phone messages that he was moving. the only family left that will talk to him in a way that doesn’t feel like it comes with ulterior motives. he missed him, when he’d been away. they’re symbiotic in nature, the two of them. milo’s been a point of good in rogun’s life for a long time now, even if he’d sort of been to blame for dragging milo into this mess of a lifestyle in the first place. his parents still blame him. but rogun hasn’t talked to that half of the family in a while now. he’s not so sure milo has, either.
it’s depressing. the kid doesn’t deserve it.
“tell me what i missed.” rogun talks above the music they have playing, ruffles a hand through milo’s hair as he passes him, fitting some books onto a shelf ( half of them ones that milo had bought or suggested to him over the years ) toward the glasses he has lined across the counter, waiting to be tucked inside of cabinets. he displaces two, pours them both whiskey. “about you.” rogun adds on, like he expects milo to slip the question. hands him a glass while he’s at it.
“maybe i have a chance to win the stupid contest, if i’m up against you.” this is how ryan greets him, this man she loved- maybe. liked a lot, at least. this man who had, in fact, played her like a stupid, foolish little fiddle. or at least, he’d tried, and she’d fallen for it, even if it had all grown so far past that. she turns her gaze back to her phone, one leg crossing over the other. her shorts riding up her leg. it’s a purposeful move. she looks good today. she hopes he misses her. hopes he begs. “go to the other waiting room with the rookies. make some new friends.” she adds, doesn’t look up at him. she hopes he stays.
perhaps, this time, it will be refreshing. the industry as a whole. it’s been a while. that’s what his manager had told him in the van ride back to the dorms when rogun had first been discharged. rogun had hummed. a toneless sound that was awash in the trot music blasting from the speakers. poizn’s discography beneath them both. it’d be a nice turnaround to say that the man’s optimism was correct. that all that time away made him sentimental, yearning for things he’d once cast aside. finally understanding thirst in the middle of a drought.
but, still, this industry isn’t made for rogun. it was the foolish choice of a child who wanted to rattle the bars. wanted to make his parents cluck with disapproval in a way that would still end with the final result of himself winning. and he thought he had. won. he’d gotten himself famous, and that fact alone should sit like a trophy. someone to be revered, a false god. the ultimate fuck you to his parents.
rogun still finds the whole thing miserable.
he doesn’t care about the music, doesn’t care about dancing. it’s all stale. and, now returning, he finds it all in much the same state. at least 99 had finally broken down, decided they could move out of dorms. at least he’d been gone during the two years that they’d all gone far beyond that milestone of adulthood, where 99 was still punishing them for acting like children despite it. rogun had gone out and bought himself an apartment almost immediately. it had been nowhere near the vicinity of his parents’ - much to their sighing and cajoling.
but now he has a bargain going with 99. a new contract, and a promise scratched between the lines that he’d made two lawyers read over before signing, just to be sure. he’ll play his part, and then they’ll work on advancement in other avenues, ones he desires. ( desire in and of itself is a tricky concept to broach, but temptation is something that rogun’s familiarized himself with over the years ).
the part he plays includes picking right back up where he left off. trying to pull poizn up by the collar and cast them in a good light. lands himself on a cooking show that nobody will probably watch aside from their fans. but he does it.
he knows he was bound to run into her eventually. ryan. he’d heard through the grape vine that she’d gone and figured out all those gruesome details while he’d been away. it was bound to come out eventually. a complicated past to slip underneath a complicated relationship. but he’d still loved her. they’d dated for long enough that she mattered then. that those feeling are re-kindled, stoked up bright and burning in his chest when he slides into the room and catches sight of her. he expects the snark. she wouldn’t have ignored his attempts to reach out when he’d gotten back if she wasn’t angry.
but he’s lived on his knees for long enough, begging to a god he’s not so sure is even there. so it’s not like him to fall prone now, lift his hands up, apologize, hope she grants him salvation. how’s eden supposed to do that for him anyway? he knows she’s not a perfect party either. that was part of why he’d liked her. “it’ll be a real blow to my pride.” his voice is amused, speaks with a grin that he doesn’t bother hiding. “nah, i think i’ll stay.” there’s a surety in his voice. like he knows she’ll stay, too. a subtle kind of cocky that spoke well to poizn’s concept. the kind of jackass you couldn’t quite pin down. sort of charming in a crooked fashion.
so he sits opposite her. smiles.
“you missed me too.” it sounds almost like an accusation.
hey! i’ve been creeping on this rp for a while now and finally decided to take the plunge and actually joined...and wrote an unnecessarily long application in the process. sorry if you put in the effort to read it, i’m sure it didn’t pay off. but i’d love to plot with people and get things going with rogun. you can check out his about, and under the cut i’ll give a tl;dr and some plot ideas. if you want to plot you can like this, invade my im’s, or find me on discord at countless#1584
tl;dr /
his father’s a pastor for a mega church and his parents are pretty embedded in that sort of lifestyle ( ie. a very religious one ).
when he was a kid he was pretty straight laced, studied, went to the church, became that son that all other mothers point to like “uhm can’t you be more like him???” but as he got older/became a teen he started rebelling behind closed doors.
mega churches have mega money and he had a little clique of similar rich friends from the prestigious school his parents sent him too. he dabbled around with designer drugs while there.
one of his friends had a connection to a 99 scout and he ended up audition/getting into the company right after hs.
his parents didn’t like that, he was supposed to follow in his father’s footsteps. but they didn’t cut him off or anything. they just have an iffy r/s now.
99 prob wasn’t the best company to join considering all their scandals, but rogan had a really good way of keeping all his shit behind closed doors.
he basically plays the role of safe/now-matured bad boy and plays clean up after his group.
went to the army in 2016 and just got back around two months ago. not for any scandal he had, but it was a mutual exchange between him and the company where him leaving early would help improve the group’s image, and he’d be promised more flexibility/role choice and opportunities in the realm of acting.
he’s basically over being an idol. he discovered a year or two in he hadn’t actually wanted to be an idol in the first place?? he was really just rebelling against his parents. he does however, actually want to act.
he grapples a lot with the ideologies he was raised under, addiction he thought he’d kicked ( and hasn’t ), faith and his perceived strength ( or lack thereof ) as a person. he’s buried under the concept of sin and it breeds a lot of toxic thoughts, he’s not as great of a person as he lets on tbh.
got a question? ask me!
plot ideas /
A.) i really want a group of older friends, so maybe 3rd gen or early 4th gen idols? except they were...not the best of individuals at this time. so i’m envisioning a group of dudes who all had a game going on where they would try to hook up with girls in the industry and turned it into some point/competition based thing? yeah it would be terrible and they would be trashy. i was thinking the game itself ( at least on rogun’s end ) would be one of those happened in the past things, though they could still be playing it OR they just know each other now. we can always talk and expand on where they are now if anyone’s interested!
B.) he needs a best friend, probably. i’m flexible. someone who isn’t squeaky clean, and someone who knows how to behave in public without getting in trouble. someone similarly aged or a year or two older/younger would be ideal.
C, ) if anyone else is religious that could be an interesting facet to explore.
D.) ( female locked ) an old not quite flame. could have been wrapped up in that game? she thought they were dating, he was not on the same page. cue unresolved drama.
E.) ( female locked ) an actual old flame. they dated for real. maybe broke up when he left for the army? i don’t really want anything super cheerful/loving/fluffy. i would prefer complications and drama and confronting heavier topics that revolve around the self and how people can drag down/destroy relationships without meaning to, even if they love someone?? wow i’m extra. moving on. TAKEN!
F. ) a cousin, maybe? someone in the industry he has a connection to and is super tight with. he needs some family support since his parents haven’t really been involved with him unless they’re asking for money or pushing him to fall back into line or showing his face at their church. TAKEN.
— i may add more later/will put them on an actual plots page when i get more organized!
