of all the questions haru could've been asked by wooju, he doesn't think he would have ever guessed it'd be if he looks like slenderman. at first, haru ends up looking at the other confused but then it morphs into outright staring, maybe of the vaguely concerned variety which in of itself says a lot since it's haru reacting like this - and he normally does not play this role.
if he thought he was weird, he apparently had nothing on wooju. (which was kind of a shame, really; he can't believe he's become relatively normal in comparison-- maybe debuting does change you!)
"well, you're definitely as cursed as slenderman," haru decides on saying finally, shrugging right after. "i'd say you look more like a dehydrated worm right now though," he smirks. "like a sopping wet cat but... a worm. so i guess you kinda do? look like slenderman, i mean. long and worm-y."
haru says this all completely neutrally, like he's commenting on the weather or stating a fact - although he is laughing inside. however, because he has an act to uphold, he keeps it in and continues on like this was all very normal (which in hindsight, he supposes kind of is when it comes to wooju).
"i don't know if there is," he answers, sounding genuinely unsure and also curious if there is. but then a stupid idea comes to mind and he can't help the amused smile that springs to his face when he thinks of it. "maybe something like--" haru pauses, trying to push down and stifle the laughter that wants to burst out so badly by biting down on his lip. "--it's jjinja over."
he flails on the ground in true dehydrated worm fashion, and that's probably confirmation enough for haru's astute diagnosis.
sleeved hands covering his mouth, wooju lets out a respectfully muffled pterodactyl scream before letting his arms flop back to the side again. now, he looks like a true dehydrated starfish summoned from the depths of the ocean. or the ether.
"that was the wrong answer, hyung," wooju drawls out pitifully. "you're supposed to be on my side, not janey's. how am i supposed to make it in the vicious idol world without a single person on my side...?"
he looks contemplative. mediative. and then closes his eyes again.
sleeved hands now slap over his eyes once more.
"it's jinjja over."
at least he's good at applying what he's learned, right?
wooju lets out another withering sigh, as though to answer his own unspoken question.
"i'm starting to think i'm not cut out for this," wooju groans despondently. "how many years of training did it take before you started to recognize your left foot from your right?" based on this morning's series of horrible practices, he'd been banking on some words of encouragement from his precious baby sister. when that failed, he thought — maybe my precious giant baby hyung?
well. look where that got him.
"if i end up without a job, would you hire me as your professional ha wooju?"
nabi tilts her head, blinking at him like he’s just read her mind. “how did you know that?” she narrows her eyes, though the grin on her mouth makes it impossible for the mock suspicion to land. “i was literally about to say strawberry matcha.” she even points at the board, as if to prove she’d already spotted it.
her voice softens just a touch, slipping into something more curious. “do you always guess people’s orders right, or am i just that easy to read?” she asks, shifting her weight to one leg as they move up in line. her tone is playful, but the question hangs in the air longer than it should, like she’s genuinely curious what his answer will be.
when he chuckles, nabi lets out a little scoff of her own and shakes her head. “unbelievable. i thought i was mysterious, you know? the kind of person no one could figure out. but apparently i’m transparent enough for you to guess my drink in one try.”
she pauses, then suddenly straightens and points at him like she’s reached an epiphany. “or i must just talk about my drink preferences a lot." she considers this, thinking back to the recent fansigns and interviews she did. "if not that then...did you bribe my members? or are you secretly in league with my manager?” her accusation is delivered with dramatic flair, but her grin widens all the same.
before he can answer, she continues. “well, regardless,” she says with a fake seriousness. “if you buy me this strawberry matcha, every time i want one i'm going to come to you, so this is your last chance to back out!"
he tilts his head to the side, the boyish smile on his lips crooked alongside the gesture. his eyes crinkle into little crescents, and wooju just scratches his cheek. it probably wouldn't sound too great to say something along the lines of 'your superfan talks about you so much, i couldn't possibly not know this much about you.'
so he settles on something else: still honest, still sincere, and maybe a little too straightforward for a conversation he — measly trainee — is having with korea's it girl.
"it's kind of hard not to pay attention to you," wooju replies easily. his smile lingers as they move up the line to the cash register. "you're hard not to notice, for one... and remembering something like a favorite drink or movie for someone like you is easy work."
the 'someone like you' isn't elaborated on — but the faintest pink of his ears should say enough.
"you'll probably have to rack your mind for something i don't know when it comes to basic fansign trivia," wooju teases. and as they finally arrive at cash register, he laughs again. "aw, come on, nabi. i wouldn't back out of an offer like that. with threats like that, i'll start to think you want me to stick around."
he orders the strawberry matcha for nabi without missing a beat.
his eyes are starting to blur, and he can't figure out if it's the sweat clinging to his fringe that's obscuring his vision — or if it's the dehydration resulting from it. it doesn't matter, really. not at the end of the day. however exhausted wooju may feel right now, one glance at the studio around him and all he can see are trainees who have worked just as hard, if not harder.
the word 'again' feels like the only thing he's heard for the past two hours. and whatever frustration's started to bubble up from the pit of his stomach is hardly resentment toward his own shortcoming, and certainly not grief at being called out for it. too many times today alone, he's had to confront just how much time had passed since he first stepped through legacy's doors and stumbled just as carelessly into the life of a trainee.
singing is simple enough, and he knows he likes to strum the guitar and twiddle with his keyboard to dissect songs just to put them all back together. but it's been well over a year since he first started training, and he still isn't sure what he wants from it.
curled up on the hardwood floor during a short mid-afternoon break, wooju wraps his hands around a now-lukewarm water bottle and peers at the cap. the condensation makes his hands sticky and for a second, that's all he can really focus on. around him, people chatter amongst themselves, the sounds of rubber soles squeaking against the floor filtering in one ear and out the other.
he doesn't know what he wants out of this. he might never figure it out. it could be ten years from now, looking back on this very moment, that he'll realize he hated this all along. or maybe he'll realize it was meant to be — and he should have tried harder. put more of himself into it.
some things in the future will never be in his control. he might as well tackle the things that are.
wooju's hands tighten around the plastic water bottle, and he lets out a shudder of a sigh before forcing himself back onto his feet. the break's only just begun, but he forces himself to move — scampering right up to an instructor's side.
"hyung, can i ask you about the thing we practiced just now…?"
he doesn't want to look back on a single day in his life and think, i could have, should have, worked harder.
he knows he's not the most talented guy in the world. he doesn't want to resent himself for half-assing something despite it.
wooju was light, airy, a jokester. nothing came seriously to him. not about training. usually he has a smart ass quip or something cheeky to say. nothing. he seems worn down, tired.
....like he was actually practising for once.
as he gets up, minnie can see he's drenched in sweat. it's a sight she's never seen with the other before. it was the main reason she never gotten closer to the other. to him this was some game. to her, it was her only way out. she couldn't appreciate someone who clearly never took anything serious in his damn life.
"you okay?" she asks, putting her bag towards the back of the studio. she digs out a water, spotting the extra bottle inside. equally cold and unopened. she sighs, grabbing that one as well to hand to wooju. "here. this might help you recenter."
she heads back to the middle of the room, a little off from where he was laying previously. she sits down and begins her stretches. down the middle, laterally, lifting her legs for a hamstring stretch, the works. minnie liked being limber for practise.
"you don't have to rush to leave. i don't mind." it wasn't as if she'd drop everything and pay attention to him. "i'm just fine tuning a performance for evals."
they're not familiar enough to exchange platitudes, for one — and despite how breezily he regards her, and everyone else, for that matter, he's not dense enough to pretend that means anything beyond what it actually is (or isn't).
so, he doesn't even realize she's speaking to him until a water bottle's pushed into his hand with the sort of tough love he's come to associate minnie with.
wooju stares at the water bottle blankly, and then at minnie — just as blankly.
"thank you," he remembers to say, though he makes no move to take advantage of the water just yet. wooju falls uncharacteristically quiet again, gaze flitting back to his hands. and then to the ground. to the ceiling. to the wall opposite him.
hyejoo blinks, caught just slightly off guard. not by the question itself, but by the way wooju says it so plainly. she brings her straw to her lips again, mostly to give herself a second to think.
“i don’t know,” she says honestly at first. “it wasn’t really one big moment, i think. we were friends for a long time, and it just sort of...changed.” she sets her drink down, watching him for a moment. “he was someone i already trusted,” she adds. “and then it became more than that.” her voice is soft, and there’s a fondness in her expression that slips through before she looks down again.
"between you and me though, i think i always liked him more than i wanted to admit, even when we were just friends." not that yeonwoo doesn't already know this, but it's still a source of embarrassment somehow. "and you know, yeonwoo is so—"
her reminiscing suddenly stops though, and she freezes for a second, hand pausing on her cup like her brain needed a second to catch up. "wait. nabi as in son nabi?"
when he said someone at the company, she had assumed it was another trainee. she realizes that this may have been shortsighted of her, but how was she to know that it was an actual debuted girl group member? how did wooju even meet her in the first place?
she leans back in her chair with a laugh, still processing the information. "i mean, she is pretty, and seems nice i think? i just wasn't expecting that."
"i thought you were being mysterious on purpose." she says after a few seconds to collect herself. "you kept saying not to freak out but then you suddenly drop her name." hyejoo props her chin in her hand, letting it sink in. "so you're saying that she gave you a tie?"
he gives her his full attention as she begins the abridged version of her love story. there's a part of him that feels kind of conflicted — like a kid listening to how his parents got together or something: equal parts endeared and cringing.
the grin on wooju's face says it's more the former though. he crosses his arms against his chest and leans back with a hmmm.
"yeonwoo hyung is so —?"
the brief distraction from his own predicament, however brief, is well-missed hen hyejoo utters the name of the girl at the forefront of his mind. how did she even know?
...
oh, wait —
"... i wasn't trying to be mysterious." wooju covers his face with one of his hands. a helpless, embarrassed laugh escapes him. "but i also wasn't trying to throw her under the bus... especially if i'm overthinking this whole thing. that'd be embarrassing."
wooju drags the hand down his cheek, and his gaze flits away — he's clearly feeling shyer about this than he was just moments ago.
"yeah. she gave me a tie..." wooju's cheeks might be a little pink at this point. "i thought she was asking me to give it to my sister, but it turns out it was for me... but i mean — there's no real reason why a girl like... well, a girl like son nabi would be going out of her way to give a guy like me a gift, is there...? so there probably has to be some other reason?" he scratches his cheek sheepishly.
ok here's my more dedicated trainee mission 22 plot call! feel free to like/reply/im/dm/throw a rock at my window if you're interested 🫶
ha wooju
july — open to anything
august — open to anything
september — open to anything
performance — no idea wtf he's doing (this is an ic and ooc sentiment) but he will probably be singing. he is super flexible tho and he's also open to performing with other people, but please know that he is a baby trainee and he will be a liability... ok? but he has a kind heart.
jung ahin
july — open to anything
august — open to a thread about the rap bootcamp bc ahin will be fighting for his life and i think it's funny
september — open to anything
performance — will probably be doing a dance performance! he's open to performing with other people and also open to singing too 👍
nabi beams, the kind of full, sun-bright smile that makes it look like she’s just won something. not because of the drink offer ( though that’s definitely a plus! ), but because he really did take the gift. and was she imagining it or did he accept it like it’s something special! which it kind of is. she had put a lot of effort into picking it out, choosing one that she thought would suit him.
"you don’t have to repay me!" she says immediately, hands flailing a little. "that’s not how gifts work, it’s just—” she shrugs, because trying to explain it all out loud suddenly makes her feel silly. the tie, the timing, the bunny paper. it all felt obvious in her head. but now he’s looking at her and she wonders if she overthought the whole thing.
but she straightens up with a little hum, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve. "although… i guess i could let you buy me a drink. but only because i am kind of thirsty."
"if i’m late to rehearsal it’s your fault though," she warns, already stepping back toward the door and expecting him to follow. her voice is light, but there’s a touch of excitement she can’t quite hide. because even if it’s not a date — obviously it’s not a date — it’s still kind of cute, right? and is it a crime for her to be a little bit excited??
she glances back over her shoulder, a grin on her lips. "let's go quickly, or else if i come back late and they asked me what happened, i'll have to tell them wooju from the training team held me hostage."
wow, yeah — that megawatt smile is a force to be reckoned with. and it takes nabi's voice chiming in again for wooju to snap out of his momentary daze. the smile that follows is as easy as they come, though, and he definitely (hopefully) doesn't look like he had an epiphany about why his sister's such a super-fan in the first place.
"they're probably going to ask you who wooju from the training team is," wooju replies with a laugh. that easy smile on his lips too-quickly shifts into a stupid grin. he doesn't stay idle for too long though, and his feet start moving as soon as the words leave his mouth — so, maybe nabi isn't the only one who's a little excited.
(his sister will definitely want to murder him for this, but that's for tomorrow's wooju to think about.)
the gift cradled under one arm carefully, wooju catches up to nabi and gently bumps her shoulder with his. teasingly. "you'd have to explain why a measly trainee caught your eye, so i think you might end up with the short end of the stick." the little twinkle in his eyes says he's only joking — but he does have to give some credit to nabi. korea's 'it girl' is as down to earth as they come, and he probably shouldn't feel this relaxed in her company.
(another thing for tomorrow's wooju to think about — and likely at an odd hour in a near-empty mcdonald's with someone wiser to counsel him. cough cough.)
the company's cafe comes into view, and wooju's focus flits to the menu. "what do you —" oh wait, he knows this answer, doesn't he? and while he knows an answer, he thinks he might know a better one, too, when something else on the little chalkboard beside the register catches his attention. "strawberry matcha?" wooju reads aloud. he tilts his head to the side before glancing at nabi with a smile. "sounds like something you might like, yeah?"
can someone tell this kid it's not too late to quit training and take the csat? i feel like he'd have better luck with that than whatever he just tried to do here
i went to high school with him and always wondered what he was going to do with his life... not sure if this is the call though man
everyone's so mean. this video's actually super awesome if you just mute it!
what's up with the comment section? i thought he was quite charming... well, even if nobody else is rooting for wooju, i will be!
he seems fine to me. with training, he'll become even better! i don't think we should discredit him just because of a single video. good luck wooju :)
the halls are filled with the magical sounds of trainees working hard: the squeaks of sneakers hitting the practise floor, the thumping music, and the angelic voices of trainees trying to outsing the backtrack. it's the symphony minnie hears nightly. the symphony she usually takes part in.
the room that she was in was a bit crowded, mostly because it was rumoured to be the room with the best air circulation inside, therefore it was usually crisp even after an intense session. already having to deal with crowded rooms during workshops, she was not dealing with it during her independent practise time.
her feet carry her down the hall to another room that looks completely empty upon initial inspection through the window. she opens the door and finds that it's unfortunately not empty at all. sadly it contains someone she would rather avoid.
"ah— hi," she says, unable to hide the frown on her face. she doesn't hate wooju. hate is a strong word and there's nary a single person minnie would say she hates (probably her mother). wooju simply... rubbed her the wrong way. she was never mean to the other but sometimes she wonders if it comes across that she holds him at arms length. "i was hoping for an empty room. other one is way too crowded. should i leave you be?"
does he notice? the distance she puts between them? well — it'd be hard not to. it doesn't bother him, so much as catch his attention. and like a curious, reckless, child with zero sense of danger, he can't help but push and prod the boundary lines to see what might happen next.
maybe he'd try to make more conversation on another day. and maybe on another day, this attempt would crash and burn per usual.
but fortunately for minnie, and unfortunately for yuul, he can't muster up anything cheeky.
"oh — ah, nah. you can use this room. i'm probably going to dip in a few." he offers a faint smile, and an even feebler thumbs up. "i just need a minute or six to recenter."
he's banking on them both being awkward stars orbiting each other, and he's banking on that being enough for minnie not to notice that something's off. he's an open book, really — but that doesn't mean he wants to put into words how frustrated he is. not when he doesn't know how to deal with this kind of negativity; not when he's never had to.
wooju gently pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut for a second before he tugs his cap over his head securely. "lemme just move to the side for a sec..." he murmurs, letting out a little 'oof' as he hoists himself up, shuffling to the closest wall to press his back to it.
two minutes max. that's all the time he'll give himself to look this sopping wet and pathetic in front of functional stranger before he forces himself to swallow the sun and prance outside like nothing's changed.
Yoojoon has never been subtle. Deception doesn’t suit him, never has. His truths live far too close to the surface, bleeding through every glance and gesture, even when he tries to mask them. Which, honestly, isn’t very often.
So the flicker of guilt that crosses his face now is immediate and unmissable, softening his features as he takes a quiet sip of water, lips pressing into a contemplative line.
Still, in the quiet between their exchange, he hears them: two mothers, his and Wooju’s, echoing in the back of his mind like a pair of worried ghosts. Urging him to be the “responsible one,” to guide, to nudge, to lead by example.
“Well …” he starts, voice gentle, laced with caution. “The idol life ... it’s not forever. Or entertainment in general, I guess. It’s a dream, sure. But even dreams don’t always last. Only a rare few get to do this forever. The rest of us … we need something to fall back on. A safety net. A way to land softly if this all goes away.”
His eyes drift, distant for a moment, before settling on Wooju again. “Wouldn’t it be good to have a degree in your pocket? Just in case. The world out there ... it’s hard. Jobs are scarce. Security’s even scarcer.
yoojoon wears his heart on his sleeve, truly, and wooju's just barely perceptive enough to catch the flickers of apprehension in his every word — the way yoojoon seems unconvinced by them, himself. he has his suspicions already, considering how they came to know each other in the first place, but out of respect for yoojoon's valiant efforts, wooju remains tactfully quiet.
for what it's worth, there's certainly merit to yoojoon's ever-cautious statements. each adage is fairly wise, and had he been anyone else in the world, ha wooju would certainly have returned to his cramped door room with a storm of new worries and anxieties swarming about in his mind.
but he isn't anyone else in the world.
and he most certainly is ha wooju.
"yeah, you're right," wooju replies breezily, setting his chopsticks down — full attention on yoojoon, clear eyes demanding contact from the elder's — and leaning forward to rest a cheek against his palm, elbow propped in front of him.
wooju's gaze flickers, from yoojoon's face to the light fixtures above. and then back to yoojoon's face. wooju meets his hyung's cautious expression with an all-too easy smile.
"it probably would be good, huh? but like — i don't really think i have the drive to focus on two things at once... so if i really wanted to put my mind to getting a degree somewhere, i guess i'd have to quite legacy, huh?" he hums, thoughtful. "what do you think, hyung? should i quit?"
hyejoo stops, hand on her straw, staring at him in feigned seriousness. "a tie?" she asks, her eyebrow lifting in suspicion. "that's really serious." she nods solemnly, as if he had just told her breaking news. "that's like business casual levels of commitment." she tries to keep herself from laughing, but a short giggle escapes anyways.
she removes her hand from the straw, drink almost forgotten as she leans forward, both elbows on the table. "but i mean, did you like the tie? like did she pick it out thinking of you, or did it seem like it could be for anyone?" she's genuinely intrigued now, if only because crystallis has been quiet recently, with no big scandals to speak of.
a year or two ago she would have been thrilled at this relative calm. and she is, because the alternative is having three managers breathing down their backs at all times. but she has to admit that it's not as exciting.
hyejoo leans back in her chair again, laughing slightly. "ok, you can have your twelve hours since i," she pauses, putting her hand over her chest. "am very considerate of your tender heart."
"but i think yeonwoo deserves to know that you're growing up and receiving romantic neckwear as a gift, don't you?" now that she mentioned him, she wonders what he'll make of all of this. "but anyways, if you think she's pretty and cute, then what's the problem?"
he mentions the tie to prove a point, but hyejoo's reaction makes him nervous — and now he isn't so sure he wants to be right. the idea of this generation's kpop it girl having a crush on him is daunting in more ways than one, to start, but for it to be something serious?
he's never taken anything seriously in his life.
"the tie? i think..." wooju trails off, recalling the gift nabi had bestowed upon him just a short while ago. the only experience he has with wearing ties is collectively pretty negative. but as it turns out, the person gifting it does make a big difference. he smiles sheepishly. "i don't really have any reason not to like it, right? i mean, nabi's really nice..." he sinks back against his rigid seat, slumping, not even realizing he's disclosed the identity of his crush. "and she's really pretty?"
wait — he definitely already said that. case in point: hyejoo's resounding conclusion, in the form of a question.
what is the problem, really?
there's nothing wrong with having a crush, whether it's him with the butterflies or him being the reason for someone else's. he's not so self-conscious to be cripplingly mindful of their professional imbalance, and he's most certainly agreed to date people he's been far less aware of.
"i don't really think there's a problem," wooju concedes, finally. he scratches his cheek with a faint, resigned, smile. tilts his head to the side. "but i also don't really know her too well aside from what janie's told me about her as the #1 son nabi superfan. and i guess that probably goes both ways — i'm not vain enough to think nabi knows everything about me, either."
wooju leans forward now, elbows propped atop the table, palms squishing his cheeks as he cradles his face in his open hands.
"when'd you realize you like-liked yeonwoo hyung?"
Now, Yuxi was no connoisseur for event planning, but even a vegetarian who never ate pork would know how a pig ran, and this networking mixer was a disaster in the making. The instructions were unclear, the organizers came late, and the ventilation already poor despite the event having started just shy of an hour ago — in her boredom Yuxi had checked her watch — and that didn't even cover the catering situation, if there was one to begin with. There was some schadenfreude to watching the slow collapse into anarchy that she found excellent entertainment fodder, which was the reason why she hadn't yet pulled her usual move of departing just yet.
Keeping to herself throughout the entirety of the evening would have been too visible for her liking, so when she saw a familiar face wander into her vision, she immediately beckoned them over. "What a catastrophe," she said, for there were no better way to go about these pleasantries.
at events like these, it doesn't matter how much or how little interest he, his sisters, have in bumping elbows with the similarly statured — at the end of the day, it's all a formality. put on your stuffiest attire and stand ramrod straight with a flute of something. have a hand free for too many firm handshakes. smile and smile and smile. after all, these aren't just amorphous blobs shy of familiar faces: they're the children of business partners; they're future business partners themselves.
or so wooju's supposed to believe.
his sisters have already dispersed to go about their own survival rituals, and he's contemplating the viability of a semi-clean escape attempt that won't earn him the ire of his ancestors when a familiar figure catches his eye. his feet are already moving toward her before she invites him to with a clean, elegant, gesture, and it takes a great amount of willpower for wooju not to tug his tie loose out of minute relief.
"that's one word for it," wooju concedes with a wry smile. his gaze flickers from the glass in his hand back to yuxi. "who put this thing together anyway? do you know? i got dragged here last minute in an elaborate ambush planned by my parents so i'm just counting down the minutes until i can fake an emergency."
nabi practically runs through the halls today, slowed down only by the fact that one of the staff members already told her to stop running before, so now she's resigned to a sort of speed walk. but she doesn't have a lot of time, and she has to get there before her own rehearsal starts.
but she wasn't nervous at all, or that's what she told herself for the fifth time as she held the gift to her chest, pink bunny wrapping paper slightly crinkled. she had tied the bow herself, and it had come out slightly asymmetrical, and she keeps fidgeting with it but still. she's not nervous.
and it was totally normal for debuted idols to give gifts to trainees. she had seen it before. heard of it. probably.
she asked around until one trainee pointed her in the direction of a practice room, and she peeked through the window, spotting wooju inside alone. nabi swung the door open, immediately hit with the nostalgic smell of floor cleaner and convenience store food.
"wooju! hi!" she said, putting her hand up in a small wave and letting the door close behind her. "i got a gift! for my biggest fan!" the said fan in question obviously being him. the other day, he had mentioned something about her listening to final fantasy music. but she had only said that once, at a fansign a month ago when someone asked her. to be honest, she had never played the game, she just listened to it in the car because her friend recommended it. so if he even knew that, didn't that mean he had a vested interest in her?
"you know, just as a thank you! for supporting me." if she could meet every single one of her fans and give them gifts, she would. but it's not every day she has one so close by, and especially one who's so cute close up.
there's probably a romcom — maybe the second or third one from a franchise that put too much faith in the viral commercial success of the first — out there that easily encapsulates "their" story so far.
and by "their" story, he means his and son nabi's.
(somewhere, kilometers away, he can picture his younger sister kicking her feet and screaming at his sheer audacity for daring to exist in the same sentence as her bias.)
it makes sense how frequently they cross paths, especially considering how bluntly he'd approached her in the first place with his younger sister's lifelong wishes in mind. thankfully, nabi's like a ball of indomitable sunshine: she makes it easy to chat, and if she found his uncanny grasp of #SonNabiTrivia weird, she definitely didn't make it obvious.
so — he thinks they're probably kind of sort of friends.
which is why it's easy for wooju to smile when nabi bursts into the practice room. the once barren space seems to liven up as soon as the door closes behind her, and he wipes a lingering bead of sweat from his temple with his sleeve (to look presentable, duh — wait, why do you need to look presentable?!) before turning to face her properly.
"hey, nabi," wooju greets with an easy smile. his expression shifts into one of muted surprise when she draws his attention to the intricately wrapped gift in her arms though. wow. to think a superstar like son nabi would keep someone like his sister in mind. he already knows woori's going to have a field-day. "really? you didn't have to..."
he's touched on his sister's behalf, and the tips of his ears burn a hot pink as second nature. the smile on his lips softens, too, and he gingerly accepts the gift, looking at it once before lifting his head to meet nabi's gaze.
"i feel like your biggest fan needs to repay you somehow," he adds with a grin — as if woori's shrine to nova isn't repayment enough. well, as a doting older brother, he supposes he can chip away at their debt on woori's behalf. "oh, are you free right now? i'll treat you to something to drink, if you're okay on time."
It’s been a while since Yoojoon last finds himself in the cafeteria at Legacy Entertainment. These days, meals are hurried bites at events or quiet dinners cooked in the shared dorm kitchen; half for himself, half for the Agito members. But something about the hum of conversation here, the clatter of trays and the comfort of routine, settles into his chest like warmth. Familiar.
He takes a bite of his tteokbokki and chews slowly, not entirely for the taste. Because today’s not just about catching up. No, today’s also about the gentle push his mother delivered with a smile too sweet to refuse. Just ask him, she had said. Gently, darling. You’re good at gentle.
“Soooo,” he begins, drawing the syllable out as he sets his chopsticks down and leans forward, elbows brushing the cool edge of the table. “Have you been looking at universities? Anything catching your eye lately?”
He tries for casual, for lightness. Like it’s just small talk, not the weight of two mothers’ dreams stitched into a single sentence. It’s not that he thinks @lgcwooju needs university. Far from it. If anyone understands choosing an unconventional path, it’s Yoojoon. He hates school, always has, but he shows up, semester after semester, for the sake of peace. For the sake of expectation.
the middle-aged ladies in the cafeteria probably run the kitchen like the navy. this thought crosses wooju's mind every time he drops by. the routine never changes, after all. somewhere along the queue, he gets fretted over in rapid-fire korean by people who remind him of his aunt in switzerland, and then he spends a good ten minutes trying to remember the word for vegetarian before emerging from the impromptu ring of fire with a hefty plate of pasta salad.
ah, but today isn't exactly identical to most other days.
after all, it isn't every day wooju's joined by yoojoon of all people.
he's trying to see how many times a single strand of spaghetti can be twirled around the chopsticks in his hands when yoojoon speaks up; and it probably goes to show how comfortable wooju is in yoojoon's company that he managed to zone out in the first time.
the question, though, elicits a quizzical expression.
"universities...?" wooju repeats with a vague tilt of his head. he blinks slowly: once, twice, and then his eyes crease as he lets out a faint laugh. "uhh, am i supposed to? i don't really know what i'd do at a university... especially in korea. i can barely understand what the instructors here are saying to me, hyung." another easy grin.
he thinks this might have more context than he's been allotted, but woojun only maintains his smile.
"are you trying to pitch secondary education to me?"
his heart beats in his ear, and the erratic thump-thump is starting to sound so unfamiliar that it's almost nauseating. he's not an optimist by any means, and it'd be a stretch to call him idealistic — but days are far and few between, and they seem to hit him harder than they ought to.
the studio has already emptied by the time wooju starts shifting, wrists already sore from being planted on the hardwood floor as a lever. his legs are stretched out in front of him, and the blank expression on his face is a foreign affair entirely.
maybe he should take it as a good thing. if he feels this vague tangle of frustration at his solar plexus, doesn't that mean he's starting to care? doesn't that mean this whole idol shtick might have finally wormed its way onto his priorities list?
or is he just impatient? bored?
wooju squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose once before flopping onto his back entirely, baseball cap tugged down to cover his face — arms spread out like a sun-dried starfish.
that drumming in his ears starts to quiet; and just in time for him to catch the door opening.
he doesn't quite move from his position, but he lifts a hand to wave to whoever's dropped by. "sorry — i'm almost done here," wooju offers, voice muffled behind the makeshift mask over his face. he shifts eventually and sits up, the same cap falling to his lap as he does.
well, would you look at that? @lgcminnie's no unfamiliar face.
a crooked smile blooms across his face habitually. "hi."