피어나

命を呼び醒ます HOLY WATER 聖なる歌が 祈りになる choi jaein, neon

[jaeinid-blog]

—lionheart.

[jaeinid-blog]

idjinsung‌:

his other hand comes up to brush against the ends of her hair, a fleeting touch over quickly as it began. he laughs as he feels her touch thumping against his chest before sliding down, attention toward the nails instead of at him. he finds that he doesn’t quite like that, but he covers it up by twisting his face into a look as mischievous as the teasing tone his voice takes on. “yes, my queen. you were shining, you were stunning, you were the best out there. and everyone after you will pale in comparison.” he reaches out with a brave hand, his fingers tentatively touching against hers. “honestly i would lie to you, but this time i’ll tell you the truth. you were breath taking and if we were alone, i’d probably tell you more.” jinsung drops his hand and takes a half step away, his smile dropping a little bit. “but there are too many people and i’m not into public displays.”

it’s pure hubris, to think she can have him, to believe she could claim him. it’s pure pride and honest foolishness, to make such a bid for his attention. atlas is on top of the world and jinsung tops brand charts just for breathing these days, sells out fabric softener on the whim of a suggestion he uses it. she breathes in, chest rising, fills herself with the aura of him. it is beyond stupid to do this, to be this, to be near him. it’s beyond risky to continue lingering here in almost-public, with his eyes so intent on her, with his hand brushing quick at the ends of her hair. her teeth catch at her lips, drag, release. a quick betrayal of the fluttering race of her heartbeat. 

he shines like the sun. 

she’s sure that he always must have, radiant and dangerous, a light so strong that it burns, purifies. an avenging angel, no cherubic sweetness in sight. the sun that casts sharp shadows harsh and brutal. it doesn’t mean anything, she tells herself as he comes closer. it doesn’t mean anything, she reminds herself, when his lips part around a laugh, when his expression is mischievous and his eyes begin to glitter with amusement and she wants more than anything to kiss him in that moment. her heart stutters in her chest and she is reminded again that she is in over her head, icarus with melting wings, consumed by the heat of apollo, on the verge of plummeting into poseidon’s arms. the murky, cold depths of the sea. 

her manager is going to kill her for this if he finds out. her group, too, likely, would not appreciate her dalliances. but capturing his attention feels like winning an award. out of the hundreds of thousands around him eager for a moment, he’s lingering here, with her, eyes on her, attention laid at her feet. there’s a powerful feeling she gains from that, and pride is dangerous when egged on. “your queen, huh?” she repeats, laughing a little, “i hate that, it sounds horrible, i can only think of like, queen elizabeth and she’s so old,” she admits, bursting his poetic bubble with a single statement and happy to do it, if it deflects from the way the brush of his fingers lights a fire over her skin. she’s a fool for this. he changes now, his smile softening, and his words changing, ringing with something honest and with a darker promise and jaein’s smile falters. the sweetness of it crumbling to something breathless, parted lips and the temptation to fall into him.  

she groans frustration as he steps back, half a pout arranged on her lips. “you shouldn’t make a girl a promise like that and then back off,” she scolds lightly, her gaze dark, locked intent on him despite the casual expression on her lips. “how about something more private later, then?”

[idgoeun]

shine

[jaeinid-blog]

idgoeun‌:

she knew this was probably not the place, nor the time. but the embarrassment of having to act beautiful in front of a camera in a few minutes was making her stomach turn in knots and she had to do something, anything to distract herself. so she did what was most on-brand for jang goeun, something she knew would irritate but she thought necessary, if only not exactly necessary in this moment. as soon as the hairstylist was finished adjusting each of goeun’s curls, she moved to stand next to jaein, leaning towards the taller girl’s ear so she could speak quietly and avoid interrupting the photographer’s direction of their members. “unnie, i just remembered,” she lied, as if she’d ever forgotten. “earlier, at music premier, you went kinda breathy towards the end of the chorus, i think the last chorus.” even if this maybe wasn’t the time, goeun didn’t exactly feel bad pointing it out. neon was getting a lot of attention - with so many eyes on them, they had to be perfect every time, and mbc used live vocals, meaning any mistake was much more obvious. “you probably just got tired. want me to show you some of the exercises i do for stability later?”

modeling comes naturally to jaein now, she’s had enough trial and error with it to account for the luxury of that. she’d spent her first shoots scrambling alone on the sets, a mere trainee trying to keep her head above water. it was nice to face it all now, with a group, to see some of the others as nervous as she’d been once. of course, it hasn’t erased her own nerves in the grand scheme of things. she has to admit, however, debut has been quite the ego boost for her so far. the success of the song is good enough on it’s own- the fact that they aren’t yet letting down the company that has invested so much into them, poured so much effort into their creation. she had been petrified of falling beneath the weight of that obligation to repay. at least things seemed ot be off on a good foot there. maybe the song wasn’t her favorite, but as long as it resonated with the public well enough who was she to mind? just a rookie with not an ounce of talent for producing, that’s who. it was best to leave things to the experts, that was what jaein had learned from midas over the past years. 

she’d trusted them to make her into a pseudo rapper after all, and had been awarded for her efforts in the process, gaining for herself a hefty chunk of the song and the first half of the chorus, too, so overall jaein was finding her current strategy of obedience in the midst of her own rebellion quite efficient, effective, and workable. she had to admit she did enjoy modeling a good deal. there was something interesting about the artistry of it, in a certain way, how so many things came together like puzzle pieces, so much effort just for a few snapshots. such a well choreographed and orchestrated event just to print off some pages in a magazine.

she’s ruminating on this, examining the photographer with interest, watching half over his shoulder as her group mates are captured in all their youthful beauty by the expert lens, when a voice lilts out her title, “oh?” she hums out, turning to look over at goeun, who has approached her, with the hint of a grin curious on her face. the result, however, leaves one brow arching artfully at the other girl’s words, the whole thing largely inappropriate, ill timed, and more than a little bit awkward. “i’ll work on that,” she agrees blandly, gaze roaming the other with a new intensity, something seeking perhaps, as she takes in the other girl’s expression, body language. “would you like some pointers for modeling or a glass of water, or did you want to give me more unsolicited criticism first? it’s really fine either way, but if you’re nervous you can just say so.”

[asterocky]

[idaein-blog1]

marvel

[jaeinid-blog]

idaein‌:

“oh wait, do you even like the movies?” daein asks as he hops back onto his previous track - pitstop, question about snacks - and he should probably know this, but jaein’s been busy lately. they both sort of have. and usually when daein starts talking about movies to her she tells him to shut up, lest he give her the rundown on a great french cannibalism flick he’d watched lately. “are you a poser?” he laughs it out, plucks at the sleeve of her tee.

of all the siblings in the world to choose to endorse a marvel collaboration, jaein has to think that they really hit the jackpot with the two of them. at the very least with daein, to be honest. jaein’s a fan and a half, sure, but she’s pretty sure daein has her outpaced fort that. he usually does, with a brain for remembering bizarre fandom factoids that could rival the truest of enthusiasts, even when it comes to things he might not be as infatuated with. over the years his interests had run down onto her like watercolors sliding one into the next, a blur, and it leaves her now a statuesque rookie idol with a bag full of gummy bears and junji ito manga and a screen shot from les diaboliques, the seminal french horror classic, as her profile picture for her private instagram.

she has to admit, of all the schedules she has, the modeling ones are her favorite for a number of reasons. first and foremost is the fact that everyone fawns over her. she has to admit she truly enjoys it, as they coo about her long limbs and her shiny hair and her beautiful features, as makeup artists dress her up into ethereal. she enjoys, also, being good at it. she truly is, it turns out, and getting better by the moment. it’s just another shade of acting or dancing, she figures, putting forth a snapshot that tells a story in precise angles and artful shadow. 

of course, this one isn’t really modeling. it’s a commercial kind of thing, to it’s core, even if there’s every reality that it gets printed in some magazine or whatever. she likes working with him, though. she doesn’t mind him ruffling at her hair or dragging her around, and it’s easy to laugh loudly, brightly, as the director instructs her to do. it’s easy to be dorky and silly with daein, even if he occasionally looks over at her like a deer in the headlights, as if he doesn’t recognize any of this or know what to do with himself. it makes sense, though. daein had been gone for the yeras of her childhood when she had been brightest and silliest, sweetest and most open hearted. it would make sense he didn’t know that side of her yet, something that sobered her just a ltitle, remembering how much she had missed him, realizing now how, in the way of many brothers, he had no idea the pedestal she put him on in her heart, how much she truthfully adored him.  

“you’re so insulting,” she tells him candidly, shoves her hand into his side as they walk off the set. she’s pretty sure half the cast has fallen in love with one or both of them by now, considering the way they’re observed even in casual moments like this, with the cameras down. “do i get to keep this shirt, oppa, i really like it.” she hums hopefully, before returning to the topic, “of course i saw the movie. i went with some of the girls,” she explains, an oblique reference to neon. she catches sight of the catering table and hooks her arm through his, tugs him along in the appropriate direction. “calories don’t count if it’s free, right?” she lilts, hopefully eyeing the table with the slightest pout. “anyway, a fan spoiled it for me before i even got to see it. which, frankly, probably allows for them being an anti instead.” she clicks her tongue, nose scrunching up slightly in distaste at the memory. “can you believe i have fans now?” she adds, nudges against his side, “be impressed by my progress, be proud of me.” she demands in turn.

[jaeinid-blog]

—airborne.

[jaeinid-blog]

idsooyeon‌:

“you’ve just debuted, right?” there was no privacy outside a personal pod in first class, every seasoned traveller knows to strike up decent conversation with seat-mates in fear of awkward silence in an unbearably long flight. in this case, however, sooyeon could find herself becoming genuinely curious. “must be exhilarating still, i can’t even remember my debut year.” 

a small laugh, she studied the younger girl with soft eyes. im sooyeon could be magnanimous when she chose to be. 

“but you’re very pretty, everyone must’ve fallen over trying to put a number in your sandwich.” a small smile, tone light with ease. “are they working you to the bone already?”

sooyeon is pretty, lovely even.  there would be many awestruck and inspired to be in the presence of someone that beautiful, so perfectly put together. there are those who would, in jaein’s barefaced and criminally comfortable attire, feel somewhat awkward, under dressed, under prepared, disheveled. but jaein feels for the most part a distracted fascination. she regards much of the world in this way, as if observing her surroundings from a distance as if some kind of anthropologist studying those she encounters, rather than truly engaging with them. she finds this doubly true of the celebrities she meets, still struggling to number herself among the stars, not yet strung up in the lights of the galaxy. those who respond well to this treatment, like san, have found her endlessly endearing. those who expect more fawning or formality, however, have been left largely unimpressed, often with misconceived notions of her own hubris or haughtiness. it’s a familiar story for her, at this point. 

she grins in the other’s direction, slides a finger up to fold the corner of the manga’s page down. daein probably won’t mind her crude attempt at a bookmark in this manner, but she’s gentle about it regardless. he does treasure his bizarre body horror comics, so, after all. “yes, that’s right,” she nods, a smile taking over her features slow as she does, “it’s been quite an experience, that’s for sure.” she’s not sure how it’s been so far. she thinks it could be that she doesn’t want this all as much as some do, that she doesn’t have that desperate thirst that many seem to boast. it isn’t that she’s not interested in it all, but there is perhaps even now a pragmatism to her, a realism that runs deep. she came into this mostly to follow in the shadow of her brother for lack of a better idea, after all, and has been lucky enough to had opportunities and successes steadily delivered to her on a plate, but she’s not foolish enough to think it will continue in that way forever. 

sooyeon compliments her appearance and jaein smiles politely in reply, with a casual, “oh, i dunno about that, midas diets mean no carbs, so i’m not eating a lot of sandwiches these days,” with a self deprecating laugh. she twists the ends of her ponytail around her finger in an idle movement, tries to think over what she knows of sooyeon to make conversation. “you must be exhausted, right?” she settles on, “i think i saw you were filming for something coming up, right?” it’s vague because that’s the extent of her memory in the moment- midas has made more than sure that her every waking moment are dedicated to debut, with little room to pay attention to much else at all. “it’s a lot, but it’s not enough to be overwhelming. i suppose we’re not popular enough to be truly overworked yet.”  she laughs lightly, shifting a little in her seat, still attempting how best to compress lengthy legs into the seat’s limited area. “shouldn’t you be up in first class or something? i’d think that heaven would merit higher billing,” she notes, sighs, “sorry you’re stuck back here with the rookies and all.” 

[jaeinid-blog]

—awe

[jaeinid-blog]

idryusan‌:

“shut up, you did good. it’s a hard dance. your lines looked great.” maybe not what she means, but he’s put up with enough of his mother agreeing when san finds faults in himself that he doesn’t want to push that bad habit and internalization on jaein. “soon, i wanna see it. press my number, go go.” he teases out with a laugh, prods a finger in against jaein’s side as he lets his hand slide away, like he might be expecting her to dance backstage now. 

jaein hadn’t gone into midas with any particular expectations, which was perhaps the only way to survive the whole thing. if you entered with grand ideals they were sure to be crushed and if you came in with expectations or pride they would be dashed. jaein had always been rather malleable, agreeable, suggestible even. it made her an ideal pawn for the company, to groom into the girl they desired for the group that would become neon, and she had been accommodating enough about it all. where other girls had protested at a push towards rap, lest they lose the integrity of being considered a vocalist in a company well known for it’s vocalist and certainly not so much for it’s rappers, jaein had obediently taken the classes, the critique, and the feedback. where others had protested suggestions of this surgery or that treatment, jaein had dutifully undergone whatever was suggested of her - though it had admittedly been very little and largely transient things, like facials or lasers. when she had been told to lose weight she had lost in, when she had been told to put on muscle she’d done it, had faithfully adhered to diets.

overall, the biggest assets jaein had had for herself during the trainee process had been her obedience and her visuals, two things perhaps innately ingrained in her. how funny, that her great act of rebellion to become an idol had been, ultimately, so successful because of how obedient she was. perhaps san had been drawn to that about her, that similar competition inside her veins between acquiescing and desiring. “was it?” she hums happily, a proud smile on her lips at the compliment. the pair of modest heels and his insoles leaves them at an equal height, and she shrugs slightly, lifting his arm in the movement. “not really. it’s not a bad song, i suppose, and i like the dance, but, you know.” she shrugs again. she’d known, going into things, that she wasn’t going to like every song. but she’d sort of hope she’d be a bigger fan of the debut track. still, jaein enjoys it at least for the nostalgia it will someday embody., there will be many songs, but this one will always be the first.  “smoking does not contribute protein to your system, sunbae,” she drawls back at him, pinching his side at the comment.

“of course,” she laughs out as the other continues, “i’d be sad if we didn’t.” she likes san. she likes the easy way they seem to understand each other and she likes also the feeling of being accepted by someone with such an incredible talent. she’s never told him, but it was his solo debut that had her taking the step to audition for midas in particular. it feels like too much of a fangirl thing to say to someone who has become her friend, now. like it would put distance between them or remind him she’s not on his level. sometimes when he’s hard on himself, when he’s down, she wants to tell him just to see if it might pick him back up. she smiles a little as the other compliments her, white teeth flashing bright against her skin. “ah, jeez, don’t put that kind of pressure on me immediately. i have to live up to your lofty skills after all. you’re setting me up to humiliate myself,” she whines, “come out with something simpler so i can handle it, i’m not even a dance position you know!”

[jaeinid-blog]

—lionheart.

[jaeinid-blog]

idjinsung‌:

he thinks that’ll be the last time he’ll catch sight of jaein, aside from a few quick words exchanged in passing. but he crosses path with her much sooner, can’t help but to be drawn in to her orbit, his hand catching the small of her back with practiced ease. he settles next to her, a grin already tugging at the corners of his lips. “i think as a hoobae you should be showing me the proper respect,” it’s easy to forget he was ever in a bad mood to even begin with, when jaein smiles at him like that. instead he falls into their familiar teasing rapport, wanting to ruffle her feathers are bit and keep that smile on her face. “though i think we both know you’d rather die than do that. and instead i, your wonderful sunbae, will instead fawn over you instead.”

jinsung drops the act for just a moment, his smiling falling into something a bit more real, less playful, less fabricated as he leans in closer to her. “you did a really good job, you killed it out there.” and just as quickly as it came, it’s gone. “but that’s what you’d like me to say, huh? well too bad, you’ve got a long way to go rookie before you’re on my level.”

she’s not being careful enough.

she knows it, he knows it. there are eyes everywhere, least among them and still worryingly her manager, who she’s sure would have a number of problems with jaein breaking contract for atlas’ sol. but she’s young and she’s stupid and she’s new to rebellion. jaein still thinks she can have her cake and eat it too, that this time things will work out for her int he way they always have. she has been blessed, genetically, and with luck, and someday she knows it will run out. but that day isn’t today, surely? it musn’t be. not when she’s lining up opportunities and taking the world by storm, bit by bit. days after debut she stands on an international stage and it goes so much better than she could ever have hoped that it would, the roar of the crowd, a sequined sign with her name on it, fans that scream the chorus alongside her and give her hope for a future as bright as the sun. 

and then, to speak of the sun (of the devil) he appears. “what kind of respect were you thinking of?” she queries, as his hand rests warm and solid at the small of her back. she tilts her head ever slightly to look up at him, appreciative of that. there are many that she towers over or matches, but even in heels jinsung has the edge on her. she smiles up at him with her sweetest expression, cheek dimpling slight as she does. her eyes shine in the reflected brightness of him, a swirl of something hungry in them, as if she might want to devour him. as if she might, in turn, wish to be devoured. “yes, i like how that sounds.” she tells him, bites at her lip when he surges closer. when his expression softens into the boy she knows from behind closed doors, and her heart races despite herself. she hums, slightly, as he leans away again and qualifies it. 

“i’m not trying to be on your level, you grand fool,” she tells him, thumping a hand against his chest, mostly in an excuse to feel how very broad it is, muscled beneath her palm. “and that was a terrible excuse for fawning. you’re really a disappointment to me.” she sighs heavily, as if utterly let down at the mere thought of him, slides the pad of her thumb against her nails as she examines the manicured tips. “you’re supposed to tell me i was shining, i was stunning, i outperformed everyone in my group, hit every note, that you were so captivated by me you couldn’t even begin to look away.” she rolls her eyes, after a moment, “but you were probably too busy to even watch, right?”

[yoojung-archive]

[jaeinid-blog]

— linger

[jaeinid-blog]

 idaein‌:

“what about you, any pests creeping around?” he inches a hand out to subtly tickle fingers near her ankle, a mimicry of a bug. “it’s fine, just lie. confess about the lie later, then it’s basically a clean slate from there on out.” he’s not really sure if that’s how it works or not. daein’s never been particularly religious. “both. i think they just give us more protein and you more leaves.” he’s not too sure, he just knows that he’s made to go bulk before a nitro comeback and that he eats a lot of peanut butter. “but fine, pick something.” he tosses his phone up to her after unlocking it. at this point jaein knows better than to open apps, lest she scar herself more than embarrass him.

“it had better happen,”  she huffs back at the boy before her. “if i don’t get a debut now, after working myself into the best shape of my life, i’m going to be quite cross.” she pouts insolently for a precise three seconds before she laughs again, her affected ostentatiousness dissipating. best to avoid disappointment with humor, no? she sighs a little, shifting to prop her feet up on his coffee table, long legs crossed one over the other. “i just want to get the whole...scary first stage over with.” she half-explains. “how did you feel, when you debuted?” daein will probably say something frustrating, like it wasn’t that big a deal. sometimes she thinks almost nothing in his life registers as a big deal, outside of women. it’s frustrating, how very casual he can be about things, when jaein is finally learning how to care and needs help figuring it out. 

“is she nice?” jaein returns, brow lifting. “i don’t know much about her. tell me.” she instructs, just because she likes to hear him care about things. about girls, about whatever else. she likes to listen to him, to understand him. “you say that so often though, oppa, i don’t know if it’s real.” its a slight jest, and one he’s already qualified himself against, but she says it anyway. “i just don’t want you over-committing and getting hurt. again.” she tacks the final statement on like a throwaway, but it’s the truth. he loves so intensely she wonders how he can stand it. “you deserve something right though. i hope she is. i hope it’s all perfect.” she nods a little, a firm expression in place, as if wishing upon a star, making a prayer. 

“pests?” she teases, whining as the other’s fingers tickle at her and she shifts, bumps her heel against his shoulder lightly. “obviously there are boys with interest,” she drawls, flicks her hair over her shoulder. “i mean, you may not have noticed, oppa, but i’m pretty beautiful. even by midas standards.” she bats her lashes when he turns to look at her with disgust at her arrogance. “look, i need to be realistic about what i bring to the team, and most of it has to do with being pretty, so, yeah.” shoulders lift in a shrug before she sighs, pokes her tongue against her cheek and thinks. “there’s one pest i like more than the other pests. but i’m not sure he’s all that...seriously invested.” she sighs, props her chin in her hand. “i wish all boys were as stupid as you are.”

[jaeinid-blog]

—airborne.

@idsooyeon on the way to chile. 

jaein hates, she decides, dressing up for the airport. it’s so uncomfortable, to think she’s expected to look that nice right before a twenty seven hour flight. and so, she packs up her carry on full of what she deems the essentials. by the time she emerges from the airport bathroom (before the plane has even taken off) she’s in joggers, a white t-shirt, and barefaced, with her hair spilling in freshly highlighted waves around her shoulders. examining herself had revealed a blessed lack of blemishes, wide eyes moving from feline to innocent with the removal of eyeliner, round to the point nearly of bulbous, lips coated only in a barely tinted balm. she smooths on some moisturizer to keep the dry recycled air at bay and leans back into her chair, opening up the junji ito manga daein had lent her for the flight. 

he has odd taste, but then, she’s used to him by now. 

messages ping her phone now and then. taeho, wondering if neon is at the same hotel for the evening. san, telling her to make sure she stretches every so often during the ride, because it’ll stiffen her up. her members lamenting they’ve been spread across the plane seats. jinsung, insinuating she ought to come by a certain party after. she sort of looks forward to the radio silence of the flight. there’s inflight wifi to pay for, should she like, but she’s a bit more interested, truthfully, in the myriad movies on offer and the promise of some time to herself. a whole day without expectation. crammed into a terrible, tiny seat, but of course there’s only so much to be done. 

while she waits for the rest of the plane to board she arranges herself to be aggressively comfortable. pulls out a neckpillow to place around her neck, folds up lengthy legs. these seats are made for short people, not girls who break 170cm an keep it all in their legs. she sighs, a quiet lament at a modelesque stature. at least it’s getting her good buzz. most things are. her face, her few commercials, her new song, her role in the group. she preens with the positive attention, pleased at the validation of it. 

a familiar face appears beside her, as jaein sits engrossed in the first few pages of the manga, glancing up to find im sooyeon at her side. “oh, hello sunbae,” she greets, bending in half (as best she can) by way of greeting. “is this seat yours?” she shifts a little to give the other more room to sit, one foot (shoes discarded under the seat in front of her) shifting to nudge her bag a little further from the other’s space. “i’m neon’s jane, it’s nice to meet you,” it’s a rote greeting but she knows propriety and she’s not one to shy away from proper manners, even if she looks more suited for a dorm bedroom than a plane flight in the moment.  sooyeon is pretty in person, shorter than she’d expected though. but, most are, with jaein seemingly forever unaware of her own stature. 

[idjinsung]

deep end.

[jaeinid-blog]

idjinsung‌:

it seems to finally sink in for him, the night they have in front of him. the idea of finally getting a chance to let loose, to dance without any worries for a few hours, the anticipation seeps in until jinsung’s left practically buzzing in his own skin. he flashes a smile, playful energy written in the curves of his lips. “it’s going alright. probably would be better if i stopped letting myself get distracted by cute girls. though i don’t know if you deserve any tickets or any secrets.” his words are teasing, as he takes a turn and playing with their joint hands. “but i think i could be swayed if you promise to send me a few cute selcas this week, you know for strength.”

rebellion has never come easily to choi jaein. 

she had always been the good child. the bright child. the sweet one. she had always been obedient and unquestioning, forever doing what was expected of her. it wasn’t a conscious choice, not really. it was just what made the most sense. she simply smiled her way through things, put her head down, and worked hard. everyone had told her that was the way to success: get good grades, study hard, have good extra-curricular activities present. she’d done all of those things, but she’d never really been happy. she’d been drifting, floating on the current of her parent’s whims because that was what people did. because she didn’t have any better ideas. 

she hadn’t had any particular passions as a child. there had been things she found fun, of course. ballet, gymnastics, cheerleading, soccer, she’d liked all of them. she’d like art classes and she’d been at least alright with english school, and while she hadn’t loved math she had at least done passably, which she enjoyed (enjoyed the successes anyway). 

it wasn’t until her brother had showed her the path towards forward thinking that she’d started really examining what she might like. and she’d invested interest in that, cultivated it into something that could be good. could be great. 

that had been her first rebellion. 

and midas had bred in her further compliance, because that was necessary for a trainee. that unquestioning agreeability had come in quite handy in the grueling trainee program. she was adaptable, flexible, a blank slate ready to be decorated, erased, re-done again to suit the whims of her trainers. 

but she was practical too. and being practical meant seeing the usefulness of certain interpersonal connections. and so, when jinsung had happened to take an interest in her, she’d been more than happy to cultivate that. she had found over the years that it was rather easy to do- make men like her. make most people like her. she was aggressively pleasant and agreeable, a nice balance of snarky and sweet, but largely acquiescing. that  was what most people wanted. 

that had been her second rebellion. 

her truest folly however had been underestimating jinsung’s charms. bit by bit, day by day, she was falling deeper into this illusion, that they could someday be more than stolen moments. that he would even want to be that. now, on the verge of debut, she didn’t have the time to keep such fantasies in her head. she needed to know better. she needed to follow the rules. and yet, here she was. 

her third rebellion. 

she leans against him in the car, a laugh on her lips, and a rapid fire thud in her chest, her heart racing. “how many cute girls are distracting you?’ she chides easily, just the right note of jealousy, cheek dimpling slightly as she looks over at him, nudges her fingers into the curve of his side, squeezes at his hand. “i’ve got an idea. focus all your distraction on me.” she laughs, scrolling idly through her phone with her free hand. “you want selcas? i have hundreds,” she teases easily back at him, opens the photo folder on her phone. “or did you want some a little less pg?” she insinuates, her eyebrow lifting with a playful smirk. he smiles at her, something boyish and almost sweet, and she threads her hand through his hair to ruffle it into disarray. she likes him that way; undone, slightly imperfect. 

[lifeinpoetry]

how our bodies domesticate / disaster

Kristin Chang, from “a postcolonial portrait of the girl loving a girl “ published in Muzzle

[jaeinid-blog]

—awe

[jaeinid-blog]

idryusan‌:

“if i slack off on our stages then literally nobody will be trying. it’ll be a fucking mess,” san believes this to be entirely true, though whether or not he’s too biased, too much of a perfectionist to see it for reality stands to be seen. “they can just send your group out again instead, way more exciting.” san decides, ends up finding something of an alcove to lean against instead of continuing back toward the dressing rooms. “did you eat?” sometimes it’s strange, what jaein pulls out of him. that compulsion to shield her from half the bullshit he’s put up with himself over the years. but it’s a brutal industry, and he’d have liked to have someone on his team, someone looking out for him at the time. so he does it now, for her. 

jaein isn’t sure how a senior like san ended up giving her the time of day, but when someone with that amount of skill gives you some attention, you sure take advantage of it. she might be a follower at heart, but she’s not a fool. you don’t need to be a strong leader or a severe personality to be smart. she was a practical girl, following the rules came easily and often made the most sense. while many thought that might make her boring, or weak or whatever, but jaein figured if they wanted to sink themselves that was their own business. she had no reason to go out of her way to make her own life more difficult. daein had inadvertently taught her that, by seeming intent on making every impossible decision he could. 

a senior artist like san isn’t just a celebrity connection, but an opportunity. san had more talent in his pinky toe than half the active idols out there and certainly more than most of midas, despite the claims of many. he’d started young and kept himself largely scandal free. he wasn’t happy, she knew that now, but he was at least making progress toward what he wanted. if she was going to get through the next seven years without fucking her life up, she was going to need all the advice she could get from him. 

and beyond being useful (because yes, jaein was pragmatic perhaps to a fault, when it came to her career, but she had a heart too) he was funny. he was clever and sweet and kind of a dick, but in the way that made him ever more endearing. he didn’t treat her like a second class citizen for being younger, or being a trainee. he’d talked to her like a human being worthy of respect, like someone with talent and something to show the world. more than that, something worthy of being shown. not like so many other seniors, eager to stand on their high horses and barely paying a lick of attention to trainees.  she got it, really. they were busy. different worlds. 

“yeah, right, i mean, we didn’t totally suck.” she agrees brightly, happily, eyes creasing into half-moons, her smile curling feline up at the edges. “did i eat,” she repeats, eyes rolling, “technically, yes. i ate my allotted chicken breast, unseasoned, and various healthy, steamed, tasteless vegetables. dutifully chased with a multivitamin.” she lets out a laugh, “the midas diet.” 

“did you eat? i know they’re not monitoring you day to day anymore, you have to make sure you don’t overextend yourself. hows your protein intake? macros for the day?” she’s prone to fussing over people; her brother’s inability to function like a normal human being had brought that out in her, always delivering him snacks to make sure he wasn’t ignoring basic needs for video games or pining over girls or whatever artistic passion he was wrapped up in at the time. it was only natural now to transfer that to san, as well. she was the sort to mirror the affection she was given back at someone. “i hope i can put on half the performance you do someday,” she admits wistfully, “i wonder how long i have to wait before i get a chance to cover one of your songs.” there’s a mischievous glint in her eye when she says it. 

[paper0]

[idtaeho-deactivated20190714]

you’re no good

[jaeinid-blog]

idtaeho‌:

“well. that was-” he says, takes a step forward, “interesting. to say the least. i don’t think we’ve met, i’ve been the most absent senior, i’m sorry.”

here, closer, this girl looks even more stunning, more ravishing. taeho feels something warm in his gut. he missed this feeling. the feeling of something new. new and shiny. something beautiful to have, to own. 

to break. 

taeho has a reputation around midas. around the industry too, probably, but jaein has always been the kind of girl to naively believe...perhaps not the best of people, but to believe a little bit better at least. her own reputation isn’t exactly outstanding, after all. she knows people are eager to construct narratives that amuse them. it’s easy to take a look at her and make her into a seductress or a fox type, it’s easy to take a boy who dates around and turn him into a cold hearted player. it’s not like anyone says that much about him anyway, just a blanket suggestion to keep her distance, which if anything only intrigues her, prompts her further into the trap. what a little fool. 

she doesn’t notice him at first, she’s wrapped up in preparation, in practice. she’s afraid of the upcoming chile stage, of going first, of performing for a crowd that really doesn’t know her, doesn’t know her song, doesn’t have any reason to properly care about the performance. she wakes up at nights in a cold sweat at the thought of a completely silent crowd, of unaffected disinterest slamming into her like a wave, of even worse booing or jeering at the performance. it’s one measely song and the lowest billed slot and she doesn’t know if that’s more pressure or less, if that looks better or worse for them.

she knows one thing, however, with the utmost certainty: no one will be able to find fault in her performance. she’ll make sure of it, if she has to practice until her legs give out and her lungs tear. as long as she lasts through the stage then it’ll all work out just fine. she firmly believes that. and thus she has devoted herself to a day of tireless practice, an endless marathon of the same moves she’s already mastered, fine tuned and perfected ad nauseum. someday there will be more songs to master but for now she has but the one, and she’ll work at it until she physically cannot. 

or, until she is interrupted. 

he draws her attention abruptly, with the staccato clap of his hands ringing in the quiet room. she turns towards him startled, bending in half to bow, righting herself and sweeping her ponytail back over her shoulder. “ah sunbae, i didn’t see you come in. were you watching for long?” she questions, fights the urge to feel self conscious or exposed, but it’s difficult under a gaze that intent, that predatory. he looks at her like he might devour her and it sends a shiver involuntary down her spine, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as if in warning, some ingrained flight or fight response that recognizes him as a predator, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “is interesting good or bad?” she adds, cocks her head to the side with a small grin.

[jaeinid-blog]

— linger

[jaeinid-blog]

idaein‌:

he turns to glare. “pay attention how?” it comes out exclamatory, and at a loss. “don’t you have things to be doing anyway - i thought you said they were debuting you soon?” this is also a topic he hasn’t really talked about at length with her. daein’s not even sure what he would say about it, should say about it. he knows how it felt for him. like diving into a pool, expecting tepid warmth and instead finding an arctic wasteland that shocked at his bones. it’s hard to anticipate, and even then, he’d been from a relatively unknown company. it’ll be different. an experience that won’t quite match up. daein finds discomfort in knowing there will be people intent on taking hundreds of photographs of his sister. belting out her name. skeevy little teenagers. like he has a right to talk ( but he will anyway ). 

“go become a nun.”

daein is the template of jaein, daein is the map that jaein follows. she’s never been a leader, really, or a dreamer. she has been resolutely practical in her life, simply plodding along the path laid out for her, and upon realizing there were other options, she’d found herself entirely overwhelmed at the prospect. while following a prescribed path may not be particularly creatively stimulating, had not brought her any fulfillment or happiness, it had at least been easy. sensible, if you will. it had been the sort of thing expected of her; do this, get this score, take this class, wear these clothes, and like a good little girl she had been content enough to follow orders, to blend sheeplike into the crowd. 

but she had found herself, suddenly, without a set of directions to follow, floundering the realization that she’d never taken the time to figure out who she was, what she wanted, where she was going. oops.  daein had provided an unwitting leader in that moment, by taking the reigns of his own life and steering down a path that appealed to a young girl interested in the flashy and fun, the compellingly competitive. was it that much a surprise that she would seek out a similar route towards fame and fortune (hopefully, ideally, maybe?) - she thought not. it seemed the most natural thing in the world. but she was young yet and liable to linger in the regret of this choice, the find out the world is not so kind as she hopes, that luck only goes so far, that not all that glitters is gold. if there’s any company to teach her that it would be midas. she wonders if they know the connotations of the name. she gets the point- making the masses into gold. but what about the end of the story? 

she tries not to think about  things like that, when she’s just signed away the next seven years of her life pending financial ruin. seven years. she’ll be almost thirty by the time she’s free of the group. that thought is daunting to say the least. “yeah, they are. in theory. they pushed it back once already so like, who even knows, legitimately,” she complains, pouting as she looks at the line of his back. he’s turned back to the game. singleminded focus is where it’s at with choi daein, and it always has been. “hows your girlfriend?” she adds, because he hasn’t told her, properly and formally, that he’s dating, but she can always tell. it changes his mood. he’s an open book when it comes to girls, the damn fool. not that she does much better. sh wants to be loved the way daein loves- he’s obsessive and possessive, declares his love so easily and fully. she wants to be adored, like that. she thinks of jinsung and fights the urge to scowl. favored with his attentions, sure, but there’s no permanence to it. daein has always promised the more important of his paramours permanence, even if it’s generally a lie. she’d like to live in an illusion like that, though. it’s somehow more appealing than knowledge of the ephemeral. she scoffs as he speaks, nudges him with a sock covered foot. 

“too late, oppa, i don’t think they’ll take me in my debaucherous state.” she says it just to make him cringe, can’t help it. “watch a movie or something with me. or order me food. i want to break my diet.” she pouts, “do boys have to diet if you’re not trying to build muscle, or is it just a hit the gym kind of thing?” she queries, almost eager to rip apart the gender disparities of the industry. 

[wekimeik]