𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

[idserena]

haze

[idserena]

idaroon‌:

he takes another sip of his drink, relaxed. “i think they just let me release a song because i have a lot of fans back home.” it can’t be due to 1nferno’s own popularity, that is for sure. aroon sighs, drinks again, there is nothing he hates more than being part of a so called mid tier group. “but what do you want to release anyway?” he asks serena so he doesn’t have to expand on midas’ attempts to make them successful. he gestures towards her notebook. “what gems do you have hidden in there?”

"i don’t understand why they insisted when people would just assume that it’s for a girl anyway.”

the homophobia in south korea was expected from a technically conservative society, yet still thoroughly infuriating. not when middle-schoolers left, right, centre were sneaking into by-the-hour motels with their partners while pretending they’re in cram schools, not when the rest of the first world had made leaps and bounds in toleration while their society had claimed to be as developed as any nation could be. now serena had never claimed to be the smartest person in the room, but she could safely say that the conservative older generation was as out of touch with the changing of times as one could possibly be. 

at the mention of her old beaten up journal, serena grimaced in a terribly unattractive way -- they weren’t filled with words but melodies in various degrees of completion. unlike many aspiring songwriters, the young girl had no problem with anyone riffling through her compositions, especially since not many around her could read notation in the first place and therefore wouldn’t know how to make heads or tails of her songs. so she absentmindedly pushed the battered thing towards his side of the table, gesturing at it vacantly with the fingers wrapped around her cigarette. 

“i don’t think that midas would like any of my songs.” the honest truth was bitter to swallow but necessary, and serena was never the type of girl to run away. “and i don’t know if i’m an idiot but i’d rather wait a bit until they loosen up with the whole mayday image before even attempting to lobby for a solo.” 

“anyway, they have a plan for all of us, and it’s not like we get a say.” ( no, she didn’t mean to sound quite so defeatist ) 

taking another sip of her beer, serena tried to urge a little smile to bloom -- although the resulting expression might look more like a wince than anything. now onto happier matters. 

“i wanna hear the song! sexy and cheeky, sounds like my kinda song.” 

[jueunid-blog]

natural.

[idserena]

jueunid‌:

“serena, do you need any help setting up?” jueun called as she made her way to the living room from their shared bedroom.  the other members were out on a schedule or their free time which meant they had the place to themselves. over the past months she liked to think her english had gotten better and she quietly hoped she’d be able to flaunt some of it today. that is if she could get over her fear of mispronouncing something and the embarrassment that would follow. when she reached the living room she did a small spin, “what do you think? not too bright is it?” 

it’s a difficult path she found herself running. serenatube had been a massive success, of which she wasn’t surprised in the least, for it was difficult to fail something when their fans all around the world had been clamouring to know just a bit more about the girls, savouring every little manufactured scrap of their daily lives. it somehow still felt like she sold her soul to the devil just to satisfy her hunger. serena moon, who hated to be disingenuous, found herself trying to assemble some sort of balance between the mayday character she had stepped into and her true self, hidden behind cigarette smoke and sheet music. 

what was truly hilarious was the fact that she asked permission to open a soundcloud account at the beginning, wanting her music to be out in the world and for them to speak for themselves. but management had loved her pitch and had made it their own: instead of purely music content of an impersonal soundcloud ( “impersonal?” she had balked silently, knowing full well that there wasn’t a thing more personal in the world than music ) serena would instead open a youtube account where she could document the girls’ daily lives, maybe with a few covers in between uploads. of course, the girls’ ‘daily lives’ must be curated into perfection and edited into oblivion-- with filters that could rival an entire music video. so her ‘vlogging’ camera came the next day, terrifyingly complicated, as well as a list of potential video ‘ideas’ that she was to peruse. 

this video, however, had been wholly her idea -- one that her managers surprisingly approved of.

“it’ll be alright, the filters would take care of all the weird looking stuff.” all harsh light will be muted into soft glows, it had already happened before. “come sit down-- oh! you look cute, that’s a nice shirt.” 

shuffling over to the tripod stand and pressing the record button, the young girl fell back gracelessly onto her chair. a little grin playing on her lips, serena tugged her friend gently on the arm to fall into the seat next to her. the dorm had been mercifully empty, with the rest of the girls out doing errands and individual promotions, it seems as perfect time as any. without any other preamble, she started speaking to the blinking red light, korean first-- perhaps english later.

“hiya everybody! welcome back to this special edition of serena_IRL with our super special guest, and my 98-liner roommate: jueunie!” she gestured brightly at the girl next to her, grinning widely without a touch of pretence, at least this recording she wont be forced into having fun. “we’ll be doing something extra special, becauuse...” 

pulling out a decently sized box from under the table, she excitedly showed the camera the obnoxious union jack sticker displayed proudly on one side. 

“i received this in the mail a few days ago and decided it would be fun to do an unboxing! the package is from my good friend emma in london, we were in the conservatory together for years and stayed in touch since i came to korea.” then quickly changed to english as she waved obnoxiously at the camera. “thanks ems! you’re lovely.” 

“but i think this would be a great opportunity for jueun to react to some very british things that i definitely know will be inside this box! i’m willing to bet on it.” turning to her friend, she handed jueun a pair of scissors and gestured towards the box. “i’ll give you the honours!” 

[jiyonq-ah-deactivated20250607]

Visit Original Link

[idserena]

serena, drunk and feeling all sorts of deep while listening to music: man i’m a fucking artist

[idserena]

expectations

[idserena]

idremy‌:

in retrospect, he thinks that maybe serena had played it a little too safe. unsurprising, circumstances considered—from what he’s gathered, midas preaches practicality, crispness, and honesty in vocalization. but he wants whimsy, and he knows serena has it in her. “actually, this time, can you try adlibbing this word here? it’s not a pain.” he demonstrates with one of his own. it’s not his crowning achievement, but it gets the point across. “doesn’t have to be that exactly. just improvise.” he lifts his pen from the mic and the track filters through the speakers and into serena’s headphones again: a comfortable legato, piano providing percussion and momentum to establish a steady rhythm.

there was a lovely sort of contradiction that began to wisp inside her mind. serena was, without a doubt, completely comfortable in any recording studio as well as in her capabilities as a singer, but at the same time; the nerves tickled her stomach, the need to impress, to go above and beyond was not lost in hubris. but being on her own had a healthy amount of fears that she could not shake; for who was she supposed to be? mayday’s serena or serena moon, a singer in her own right -- or had she confused one for the other and let her individuality die at midas’ iron grip?

perhaps this was the perfect time to find out. there weren’t any midas executives loitering around the studio, there weren’t any not-quite gentle probing of vocal instructors and producers who wanted her to embody mayday’s sweet and light sound. of course, serena would execute those orders perfectly, as she tramps down the frustration that build inside. raeyoon knew her, knows the way she struggled and subsequently lost the individual edge to her voice into midas’ well-oiled machine. 

at his suggestions, her hand flew forwards to jot down some of her own notes -- a force of habit picked up in her early years in the music conservatory. 

“yes alright.” the ad-lib was half complete in her mind when the track started back up, and then it curves back up into a lilting, beautiful thing that finished up in a neat little bow. the old serena, the one who threw her body against the piano as she played while singing in raspy, raw tones perhaps would approve. or perhaps she would be far too flabbergasted at the softness of it all, the lovely mayday sheen that had irrevocably touched her tone. midas had managed to reshape her into their image somehow, they’re exceptional at demanding appropriate results to their investments.

serena sang as if no one else could hear her. the same way she would when she found herself alone at the dorms, or freely practicing in the corner room with the lone upright piano -- if the usual mayday producers could hear her now they would’ve stopped the recording after her second note. but she continued, an effortless lilt of her vocals flew above the melody in exceptional bounds, until it ended, and the young girl looked expectantly across the large window-- suddenly tentative, unsure. 

“was that alright?” 

[idserena]

haze

[idserena]

idaroon‌:

“word travels fast, i see.” he shouldn’t be surprised, it’s how things are. “yeah, i’m releasing a song next month, stream it with it’s out, please. these” he raises his glass “are not cheap.” aroon takes another sip, looks around before focusing his attention back on serena. “don’t be. it only took me five years to release a solo song, maybe you won’t take that long.”

midas wasn’t called midas for nothing. they had the touch of gods and could turn any plain-looking girl into a figure adored by millions, they had the power to turn a slight nobody like serena, with her coltish movements and crass lips, into the girl you’d like to bring home to your parents. they took her humble beginnings and burgeoning talent and spun it into a tale that invoked all kinds of emotions, for any reaction was better than indifference, and an idol could not function with mere indifference. so when mayday flew higher and quicker than she had anticipated, serena moon almost suffered from whiplash at the suddenness of it all. no longer was she dreaming in compositions, now she must grapple with the balance of her new persona -- and accept that she could not live selfishly as she once did. 

looking at the drink in his hand, she let out a sharp scoff. “i’m sure its more expensive for me than it is for you, they company made it very clear that our debts are almost all paid off. it’ll probably take another comeback before i could see any significant change in my bank account.” 

midas was also terribly greedy, and somehow serena understood that it could not possibly be otherwise. 

“i think it might take me longer.” she tittered, eyes falling to her notebook as her pencil scratched idly on the corner of the page. “maybe it’ll take yerim unni and jueun to book a few cfs and one of the members to branch out into acting for midas to figure out what to do with me.”

as if she hasn’t been angling for a chance to prove herself, as if she hasn’t been training and composing as if her life depended on it. but the question remains, would anyone ever take to her any differently than a sweet mayday darling? 

“what kind of song is it? i’m assuming it wont be a ballad.” the shadow of a toothy grin, serena herself would have to protest if her debut song was to be a ballad, but perhaps beggars can’t be choosers. “i really did like your song with san sunbaenim, is it going to shock everyone this time ‘round too?” 

her jealousy spiked. even with profane lyrics and a daring sort of flair, aroon banthao had earned the support of the company as well as a prominent senior -- she could only imagine how much her career would implode if she had so much as uttered a swear word in public, much less a recorded release. stubbing out her cigarette and immediately lighting a new one, serena pouted and whined the way that would make mayday fans swoon. 

“i’m jeeaaalous.” 

[idserena]

tomorrow

[idserena]

idseokyung‌:

no longer playing around, he hands her over the notebook, “what do you think of it so far? if someone dedicated this to you…” he pauses, tilting his head, “would you fall in love? or would you want to kick them in the face?”

serena moon had no business falling in love. there was no room in her life and even less room in her heart, she would look at boys and might fall in love with their faces, their voice; but she would suddenly fall right out of love. it seems like they could flit in and out of her heart in record time -- a short enough time to barely make an impression. how was she to write songs about love and all its sadness and light without having experienced it herself? instead the words escape her, when the melody became the only thing that made sense. 

“i would laugh.” she had always been far too truthful for her own good, and serena could only blink blankly in response to questions she couldn’t answer. “i’m not sure if i would be someone to warrant those actions, it might come too far out of left field if there hasn’t been any previous ‘signals’.” 

falling gracelessly across the small sofa to lean closer to the controls, peering curiously at the screen before blinking up at him. now serena did not feel like she could be someone’s muse, all sweaty and sloppily dressed after late night dance practice -- but truly, the concept seems lovely to the mind. more beautiful things have been muses to great men, and she was sure that she wouldn’t be able to climb their ranks. 

“so i’ll sit here and looking pretty, shall i?” a rueful smile, she pulled her legs up to sit comfortably on the couch. she glanced wistfully at his screen, his hands, his work -- oh how much would she give to be given such freedom! her youtube channel was a place for covers, for inside jokes, and tour diaries. the young girl couldn’t help but to look back at the history of the company and pick off the amount creative freedom given to females, that is, the lack thereof. besides, she was serena of mayday, a small cog in midas’ well-oiled machine of success -- she wasn’t allowed to distinguish herself otherwise, not until management had deemed it somewhat more profitable and less of a risk. 

how was she going to be less of a risk without being allowed propose creative ideas? 

“i should fall in love and cry more... i hardly have anything to write about.” 

[seolhyejeong]

🍂

[idserena]

a study of sns styles : serena moon & her youtube channel (+5 EXP)

“hello saydays, hope you’re having a lovely day so far and welcome back to my channel!” 

this wasn’t what she expected. when midas media told her that “yes, of course you could start your own youtube channel”, serena moon had thought that she would have less time talking about her day and more singing (or at least talking through her thought process of various compositions). when in actuality, management couldn’t even give her freedom to upload when she wanted, what ever she wanted -- they had insisted that she focused on vlogs, putting a very relatable sprinkle of reality in the face of mayday’s idol-like sheen. but she had wondered then if she could stomach playing up the sweet mayday image on her personal time, all for the chance to sing the songs she had written. 

then she was pushed on stage with the other members and twirled and smiled under the glittering lights, before finally realising that the enjoyment onstage would be transferrable to the videos required of her. as serena looked into the fans that had held up her banners, she also realised that she loved her fans enough to do it for them. her songs, her creativity, at least they’d be able to see the light of day.

midas media had the full authority on the editing, the song choice, down to the final veto power if they considered her songs far too morose for public consumption. specifically, the songs that proved too soulful for mayday’s sugary sweet fanbase. 

so she persevered. handing in twice as many songs to midas for them to approve, with them only responding for her to make way with filming for her Serena_IRL vlog series. she propped up her camera in her bedroom shared with jueun, filmed them falling into a pit of giggles as they tried to assemble a new shelving unit from ikea, or having her stock up the kitchen with marmite and making her members try it through force or otherwise.

“today i’ll be doing an unboxing of all the lovely gifts our saydays have sent me over the last few fanmeetings, as well as a few packages from international saydays. soo- i’ll be speaking in korean for the first half of today’s video and english in the latter half, but don’t worry! subtitles abound for everyone.” 

she laughed appropriately at some of the funny letters, and nodded bashfully at the awfully emotional ones. serena had only managed to swear out loud once during the filming of that particular video, and the video editors had managed to transition her surprised little squeak into a different scene entirely. the fans ate it up, revelling at what little window they had into the girls’ personal lives, even if they knew subconsciously that the girls would always perform to some degree in front of the cameras, no matter how removed the video was from the official mayday channel. perhaps the international fans had overestimated the amount of creative freedom she had, but if the amount of rejected songs (for a mere youtube channel!) that midas accumulated from her was any indication, serena could only wish that creative freedom might be something she could have in the future. 

she could only hope.

perhaps this was her path, to start small and prove herself through the power of their fans. who knows, if saydays yell and scream enough for her songs (if they even like them at all) perhaps midas would be forced to answer. would they really squander another opportunity to make some money? 

if only she could persuade them to put some chips in her corner.

[idserena]

psa #2: as with sooyeon, my new girl serena is still the same. since mayday debuted a little earlier than before and have sufficient success to say the least, she’s stuck between completely thankful of said success but also progressively becoming more pissed off since there’s no solo debut in sight for her. so serena opened a youtube channel instead (which isn’t even close to a solo album by any sense), called SerenaTube, which is a mixture of good ol’ british vlogger vibes and various piano + vocal covers. she also has a non-promoted voice claim: lee hi (aka queen of my life), so expect some of her old b-sides in serena’s youtube channel in the future!! i’m always looking for threads for my girls so pls check out my plots below or like this post to brainstorm!!

plots / about 

[idserena]

expectations

mid-may, nondescript recording studio in gangnam guide vocals recording for a potential mayday track, produced by @idremy

serena moon had always been utterly comfortable when she’s practicing her craft in isolation. the recording booth could be considered part of her comfort zone, the dim lighting and cool air reminded her of the times she would practice piano by the cool window of her bedroom -- but for once, she wont hear interruptions by the various occupants of the house. although its safe to say that the interruptions she would hear would be from a far more terrifying authority. 

her brother had swore up and down that she had a voice that could not be matched, their similar personalities and generally blunt manner of speaking had meant that she laughed out loud in mild surprise at the sudden confession. but she had to believe him, for charlie moon had no business lying to his own twin sister. serena’s position in mayday had supported his opinion, with vocal trainers praising her every turn and swing while simultaneously trying to stamp down her individual tone, all in order to bring out that traditional girl-group sound. perhaps one day her tone could be celebrated for something that is unique to her, but until that day comes, serena moon must be content with the criticism that may come. 

“do you- do you want me to start again from the top?” small and unsure, she spoke clearly against the smooth fabric of the pop screen. kim raeyoon has never been an authoritarian figure to her, despite their age difference and vastly separate group dates, serena had revelled in their similar interests and the fact that he didn’t treat her like some clueless little foreigner. truth be told, she was never a fan of the formality that korean culture entails -- but who was she to protest, really? “was i sharp back there or maybe you want me to do something else?” 

it wasn’t her first time doing guiding vocals for a track, but it was her first time in the booth with raeyoon in the helm. now seems like a good time as any to do a bit of showing off -- at least, her friend wont admonish her the way older, more serious producers would. no, kim raeyoon wont do that to her. blinking her wide eyes through the looking glass, she tried her best to scrutinise the expression on his face -- to gauge for something that she could fix. 

“i could do harmonies, that’ll sound nice there, right?” 

[idserena]

simplicity

[idserena]

idjowi‌:

“you know, since serena is my company hoobae we know each other pretty well -” not entirely a lie, “and all the trainees told me about the elegant girl from england who’d joined the company just a bit after moving to seoul. it’s like a drama script.” she smiles, she’s taking timeline liberties, but no one cares about that, it sells the story, “it must have been really different,  to go from studying classical music to kpop, yeah? it seems form your profile like you really love piano! why did you  make such a big switch?” she lobs this one at her, an underhanded softball thrown at .0002 miles an hour. please, serena, just hit this one out of the park. 

if there was something that serena moon and mayday’s serena both could firmly agree on was the fact that having everybody’s unadulterated attention was too much. there was a comfortable reason why she hid behind the quiet and elegant image that they had so crafted for her, why being the quiet one meant that there would be less chances for her to fuck up and let potential fans in on her true self. being in mayday meant that she must live the way the image was presented, to live like the trope of a quiet, classical musician in a university who tucks her hair behind an ear before playing and have boys swooning off their feet. she hadn’t been exposed to manhwa growing up, but apparently the trope is still very much alive.

her fingers almost immediately found themselves fidgeting by her front, and she had to mentally force them apart as she blinked balefully at their company senior. if aj hasn’t been playing her part perfectly and effortlessly, one could see the exasperation steaming off each world-- but serena didn’t, and she could only make out the brief but harrowing look that their manager shot her from behind the camera. 

“o-oh yes--” if this was one year ago she’ll prattle about how she was technically of korean descent which makes her technically not a foreigner amidst others of korean descent, while she still retained a british passport and citizenship, which does and doesn’t make her an actual foreigner. but serena knows better now, and tried her best not to look too sheepish as she moved on to the next question. “i like piano a lot and i’ve been playing it a long time -- but i love singing a lot more! i started dreaming of becoming a singer after seeing CAREmel and su.grr sunbaenim on television. classical music is beautiful and all but i do love singing pop songs that more people could relate to.”

she couldn’t really say how much jazz changed her life, and how much her parents had looked down upon the idol industry so thoroughly that serena didn’t even bother telling them about small milestones. everything was always half a lie. the truth with a generous helping of flavour that might make it easier for the public to digest. london to her wasn’t an elegant and exotic origin story, the moon family barely had enough room in their own flat for all the kids to have their own single bed. she couldn’t really remember any instance where all members of her immediate family sat down for a meal outside of the house, in an actual restaurant. but she smiled through it all, accepting the role in exchange for a platform to sing -- what else was she supposed to do?

“of course aj sunbaenim was such a big inspiration when i was a trainee.” 

[idserena]

round midnight

detail your character practicing one of their secondary skills: piano (+5 VOC +5 EXP)

serena felt at home with the surrendering of the sun to the moon in the sky. 

she too surrendered, as she left mayday’s quiet little miss up in the practice room and ventured down, physically and metaphorically, to the flawed underbelly of pristine sensibilities. the thought crossed her mind as she took the stairs down, two at a time, to the cramped vocal classrooms down by the second floor. most of the small, sound-proofed cubicle of rooms were outfitted with an electric piano and a portable speaker, but in the room tucked over in the far end of the corridor was an old piano -- only slightly out of tune -- that laid abandoned in the less ventured spot away from sunny windows. now she loved her silent little piano by the window of the dorm, but sometimes one should feel the weight of the keys underneath one’s fingers, and hear the sound vibrate through the room instead of bouncing listlessly out of old earphones. 

when her fingers touched the ivory keys it had felt like home. so serena sighed with the depth of her soul as she found ella fitzgerald with melody, and had the world on a string with her voice. 

i've got the world on a string, sittin' on a rainbow got the string around my finger what a world, what a life, i'm in love!

she’s not in love, but the sentiment felt ambitious, as if saying it out loud might embolden the world into giving her what she deserves. with increasing flourish she let her mind run free the way most jazz pianists do-- and the song formed into something else entirely, while being nothing at all. serena remembered her first few encounters with the so-called rebellion of classics, she was eleven years old in the conservatory, and a melody had stopped her in her tracks. 

he was sixteen, but played far older than his age. she was curious, the room was open, and so she stepped in despite knowing that her parents were waiting for her back home. ( it was late, a school night, and the underground tube hadn’t been very forgiving to its young patrons ). he saw her from atop the piano, his figure much taller than most people she knew as serena scooted over to his side of the keys to admire the dark fingers that played without fail. 

apparently his teacher had told him about serena, praised her immaculate keeping of the beat and rapid sight reading that had put him to shame, and he had regarded her with dark eyes and dismissed her with a glance. but he played and spoke to her above the noise.

“you haven’t really played if you haven’t done jazz.”  “maestro capello says that classical is truth, and jazz is to err.” “to err is to live, and the truth is nothing when one isn’t actually alive.” 

he told her to listen to count basie and thelonious monk before kicking her out of the room.

now, a decade later, serena moon struck the first chord of ‘round midnight, and felt herself burning all at once. so thoroughly alive. 

[idserena]

eternal

[idserena]

jueunid‌:

immediately after speaking she could feel her cheeks getting hot with embarrassment as she remembered serena was next to her. even after a year it was hard not to get embarrassed saying things like that when someone who knew her with the cameras off was near. her solution was to look at her roommate and change the subject. “have you shown them your piano?” 

in her mind’s eye charlie moon was howling with laughter as he pushed his phone screen into everyone’s faces at dinnertime, oliver, being the sweet boy that he is, would probably have the app opened on his own phone and was watching the whole thing on mute in the dinner table, alternating from shovelling food into his mouth and tapping the heart icon. her parents and amelia would be less interested, that much was expected, for a one year anniversary meant little to nothing in the monetary sense -- with a glance they could tell that in the mess of clothes shoved into her closet was the same jumper she had since high school, bought in the dongdaemun night market. serena of mayday only looked shiny and new in clothes that didn’t belong to her, and until she would be able to shine in a pretty brand-name dress she bought herself, her parents wouldn’t be all that impressed. 

“oh this old thing?” ( shy and sweet, serena, remember ) she tittered and smiled slowly in the way that her manager had said made her more humble than she felt. “playing piano really relieves my stress, so i try to get a few minutes in before bed every day.”

( it helps me sleep, is what she doesn’t say, otherwise i’d be up for hours and hours and i wont even realise that the sun is rising )

“but i could play a lullabies for saydays who are having a hard time sleeping! what do you say?” she cupped her ear as if to hear some oncoming answer that might materialise through the camera. it was scripted, obviously, and serena had a full year of reacting to such cues that it didn’t make her cringe anymore. she almost patted herself in the back that very moment. 

“i think i hear ‘yeses’, didn’t you, jueun?” she smiled sweetly at her friend, scrunching her nose the way management vehemently told her not to, before smoothing out her expression and adopting the simple smile that ‘looked so good on her’. “how about i play you guys an original?” 

now this was off-script. they had told her to play something impressive, like a chopin nocturne or a lizst -- but then again, serena moon the pianist could make herself seem impressive if she really wanted to. so she sat down and began playing. it wasn’t anything to begin with, for she followed the template of the hundreds upon hundreds of lullabies in her arsenal, but then the melody bloomed and she followed, chasing the notes up a mountain and twinkling into the stars. but she could feel her manager’s stare burning in the back of her head, and the unspoken words began to echo in her mind. 

( don’t show off, don’t show off, don’t show off )

so the melody slowed, and so did she -- before it tapered off to a major resolution. mayday’s serena looked at the camera and smiled bashfully, as if they had caught her unaware. 

“i’ve been writing that for a while, i hope you like it!” 

a lie. but if she could almost see the hate comments pondering in disbelief if she had said that it was all a freestyle exercise, and the young thing would rather not cut her career short this early. 

“i usually keep my earphones on while practicing so jueun wont hear the unfinished product, i'm way too embarrassed to let anyone hear my playing original songs when i’m just learning how to compose.”

[idserena]

haze

in a back alley somewhere in daehangno, tucked away, invisible, w/ @idaroon

she really shouldn’t even think of doing something that is considered to be ‘leisure activity’, in other words, she really shouldn’t have any free time at all. but living with four siblings in a two and a half bedroom flat in outer london meant that she hardly had any sleep, and coming to seoul after over a decade of sleeping on top of her siblings with hardly any privacy, the sleep didn’t come any easier even with only one other roommate. jueun is great, and she couldn’t ask for a better roommate / group member / friend, but it doesn’t mean that sleep came any easier than when she shared a room with her brothers and sisters. so serena moon walked the streets at 2am. no one recognised her, of course, no one fucking cared -- and she took off mask-free down the road before slipping into a familiar haunt, without a care in the world. 

the alley played pretentious old music for young people, although hardly anyone under the age of forty-five had set foot in the old music bar, and the old-timers liked the music for the fact that it was music and not because they wanted to get into anyone’s pants. no one knows about the alley anyway, no one that matters, the old ahjussis sit in dark corners and nod their heads at the familiar tunes played by the same grandpa that basically spent his whole retirement fund on the place twenty years ago. sometimes his son would take the shift and spend his nights turning over records while watching the daily drama reruns in the tiny television within the booth, and serena would sit to the side, nursing a cold beer while absentmindedly writing out books after books of melodies. she didn’t really have to be in front of a piano to hear the notes clearly ringing in her mind as she filled in a eighth e-flat, then a full b, then a quarter g. 

( the ratio of her normal lined notebooks to her sheet music notebooks is about 1:10 )

but there was usually another person under the age of forty-five, consequently, another foreigner, who usually shares her table. sometimes even buys her drinks. ( which was only fair, since aroon banthao was a successful, working idol as opposed to mayday’s humble beginnings ). so when serena looked up through the haze of cigarette smoke towards the front door of the bar, she smiled, and took another sip of her stella. 

“hey.” she said in english as he neared, pulling her notebooks closer to her in the narrow booth to make space for him. “i heard rumours that you’re gonna be promoting solo soon, is that true, sunbae?” 

serena took a drag of her ice-burst, letting the ashes fall onto her page. 

“i’m wildly jealous-- just so you know.” 

[idserena]

tomorrow

msg entertainment building writing, etc. with @idseokyung

there’s a certain hierarchy when it came to being in a company, and serena had to learn it all the hard way when she was a trainee. even though technically they were free to do what ever they choose after mandatory lessons in singing, dancing, and all that, it was severely frowned upon for a mere trainee to head on home at five o’clock. they had chalked it up to serena being a foreigner, and she had gladly taken the little mercies and kept her eyes peeled for any other unspoken rules that she wasn’t brought up on. so now, an actual year after mayday’s debut, she’s used to leaving at eleven at night even though she had all the singing down pat, even though she did the vocal run almost perfectly the third time through. she was still a novice at dancing, there was always room for improvement, and although serena had patted herself on the back and pretended that there was no need for her to practice alone ( for it wasn’t like she could realise the mistakes she made while actively making them ), she still stayed long after the trainers had dismissed them -- holing herself up in one of the smaller dance studios. 

the clock struck 2:30am, and after the eleventh time their new comeback song spun in repeat, she thought that her body could only do so much before collapsing completely. so serena gathered her things, gulped down a ridiculous amount of expensive fiji water, and set off down the msg corridors. as she walked past the row of doors in the recording studio floor, her dark eyes flickered just long enough into the small window of a room she used to frequent before her debut -- although tonight, the soft light from within had prompted her to stop in her tracks to get a better view of the room’s interior. 

a slow smile bloomed across her lips before she yanked the door open without so much as a warning. 

“watcha doin oppa?” she beamed playfully at the other figure in the room, stepping into his private space as she plopped down on the small seating space by the controls. “are you writing a masterpiece? do you want me to help? i could sing the guide, y’know -- my voice is warmed up enough.” 

[idserena]

simplicity

weekly idol recording, lovesick-era with @idjowi

in times like these, serena thanked the god above for placing her in an idol group. 

standing only mildly awkwardly between her members, she tried her best to retain the serene expression upon her face as the comedian-mc screamed his way into an introduction. people were watching, and even though the taping was not live in any means, it doesn’t mean that they would be immune from the very scrutinising gazes of everyone in the room. they have undoubtedly seen too many of them, newbies with stars in their eyes waiting to be recognised, eagerly stepping into the spotlight with the gusto that serena only wished she had. when she said she wanted to sing, she didn’t exactly meant that this was the way to go -- but there was no backing away now, not when the member next to her finished her introduction with a flourish of laughter. 

“i’m mayday’s main vocal, serena, it’s nice to meet you!” 

now she cannot hope for the same response -- her decided role was to be the little quiet girl with talents surpassing those around. they’re not supposed to laugh when it comes to her, but sometimes she’d rather like the vibe to lighten up a bit when it comes to her ‘solo shots’, less her demurely showing off and more light smiles and easy words. she’s not this uptight classical virtuoso msg had cooked up for her, but for now, it’ll have to do. 

( ‘don’t talk to much, serena’    ‘let the other girls answer for you, serena’   ‘make sure to look modest, serena’ )

her eyes flickered to the slim figure next to the mc, the ever so familiar form of msg senior ahn jowi had always been a comforting thing. the elder girl with her wealth of experience and thorough confidence baffled her at first, before it became a source of awe. with jowi in the scene, serena felt only marginally more comfortable; she would be able to steer the situation back into safety, if something goes terribly amiss. ( a chilling thought, but one she must be prepared to face, nevertheless ). 

“serena! are you a foreigner or is this your stage-name?” light laughter, serena tried her best to join in. “it says here in your profile that you attended a very famous piano school before coming to korea--” 

“well no, not a foreigner-- i’m still korean.” she tried not to roll her eyes, the resulting expression was an almost imperceptible grimace. “it’s not really a famous school, but i did attend the conservatory in london when i was very young... that’s about it.” 

had she spoken too much already? will her manager scold her during break? god knows. 

[idserena]

eternal

mayday one year anniversary vlive!  a pyjama party room tour with @jueunid

there are many things to be thankful for, that much serena was certain. mayday reached a full year of activities, and with the temperament of the korean public as well as her thoroughly ‘foreign’ image, there was no way she could’ve made it on her own. she had also jueun to be thankful for, her roommate since the trainee days -- if the awkward air persisted since their first meeting, there was no telling how uncomfortable serena would be and how much she could lash out on an unsuspecting figure. it seems as if the universe remained magnanimous as the two became closer than ever. 

so with the schedule of the very much scripted vlive surfaced, serena had launched herself into tiding her mess as best as she could-- cleaning the cigarette ash by the window and hiding her ashtray, making sure to cover the spot where she accidentally burnt the wallpaper with her lighter. she was supposed to be a part of the pretty group, an innocent group of girls who flitted and flew like a handful of fairies singing bubblegum pop. a year after, at least, she’d rather like to keep the illusion alive if not for a better chance for longevity. her clothes hastily dumped into their shared closet, serena only had time to arrange her little desk in the corner by her electric piano. barely.

gesturing to the door with both their names plastered on with pastel stickers, serena plastered a small smile upon her face as she called towards the camera in english. 

“saydays, are you ready?” 

she pulled at jueun and linked their arms together, a show of nerves -- vlive was still a welcome alternative instead of nationwide variety shows, but it doesn’t make her any less nervous. any sort of mistakes or awkward phrasing might be cut apart into bite-sized videos to be spread, and she could not be a laughing stock even before she began. but there was no room for last-minute checks, they were live after all. 

“welcome to the 98-line room! can you guess which bed is mine?” an attempt at being coy, she smiled the way they told her to, all bright eyes and close-lipped. “i’ll give you a hint... jueun usually is the one to nag me to clean up!” 

then she laughed, a melodic sounding thing that didn’t really sound like her, but approved by management nonetheless. her bed was so obviously bare, all white and grey with a navy-blue quilt that her mother had bought for her before they had left london. her tiny nightstand boasted a picture of her whole family, taken on the day of her high school graduation, propped up by an old-fashioned glass candle-holder that she used as a bedside lamp. the electric piano stood by the window next to her narrow desk -- and her sad attempt in cleaning up only meant that her numerous thick binders of piano scores did not scatter by the foot of her bed.