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ABOUT THE ARTIST. PPYOPULII, also known as JAY and formerly known as IMUJINGS, is a 20 y/o Filipino-American producer, composer, and singer-songwriter. Signing in 2025 with the famous CARATBLR, they take key inspiration from hit K-POP boy group SEVENTEEN, promising to give back to the community they love so dearly with writings held close to their heart.
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[đŠ] Explicit songs ahead. Listening discretion is advised.
⍠main files @jaymp3 ę¨ď¸ learn my music taste @ujirecs
i hope you enjoy your stay, and may good music find you!
hiii jay!!!! we don't talk much (or at all lmao) however you are one of the most supportive and lovely people i had the fortune to be mutuals with and i just wanted to let you know that i am super grateful for your enthusiasm, support and all around magic you bring in my life 𩷠thank you for being amazing ⨠can't wait to see what fics you write next year!
a!!
this was such a sweet thing to open tumblr to :( it was always such a wonder seeing u on my dash & giggling at ur hilarious headcanons of the boys!! ur humor is genuinely unmatched LKSDJFSDKLJF i hope u never stop smiling and never stop laughing :3c i think we follow each other on my main blog but if we don't, i'll definitely make sure to do so that we can keep in touch over my hiatus and into next year hehe <3
all your favorites, all in one place.
ready to dive in? we are too. click below for ppyopulii's wrapped 2025.
ARTIST ANNOUNCEMENT:
as 2025 comes to an end, i will be taking my official hiatus on this blog and pseudonym.
this past year has been absolutely monumental to my growth as a writer, as a lover, as a creator, as jay. you all have no idea what kind of impact you've made on little ol' me :,) it feels so silly to say that i have never felt so understood, seen, and loved until this account was created. even now, i get notifs from you all rb-ing, commenting on, and liking my works; i get so sentimental, lol. you all truly will be carried on into my life's journey, wherever it takes me next (and who knows, maybe who day i'll end up back here)!
this year, i posted an est. 76.97k words for seventeen! i say posted because the amount of writing sitting in my drafts puts me well above 100k :,)
i fear they are forever collecting dust until i can write without my brain tearing itself apart over and over again.
to no one's surprise, my top victim member that i wrote for was our lee jihoon! he sits on the podium with 32.82k words posted under his name. thatâs about 43% of my writing on this blog.
oops?
speaking of this blog⌠PPYOPULII may have ran, but she only did so due to IMUJINGS walking. this is me paying huge huge hugeeee homage to my old blog, who mysteriously got shadow-banned february 15th, the day after valentine's day.
talk about a hardcore rejection, man.
under IMUJINGS, i posted what is by far my most-liked fic, which is home for new yearâs [ljh]. everyone act surprised! this fic actually was my first fic ever on caratblr, and also my first fic ever to hit 1k notes. you all just go crazy over a workaholic being domestic, huh?
(it's okay. me too.)
as for genres, i'm seeing a trend⌠whatâs up with y'all and your love for angst, pining, and smut? the study of prosody and tour date really got you guys keysmashing your hearts out in the notes. not to mention, say my name andâhonestly, allâmy cheol fics had incredibly violent reactions to them (in the best way possible, of course).
there's one member i never got the chance to write a solo drabble/fic for... and i'm a little ashamed at my disservice to the fandom. everyone, please give it up for kim mingyu! one day, you'll be my unwilling victim. just you wait, you big ol' golden retriever.
let's put the stats aside for now. time to give large bouts of appreciation for some of my beloved mutuals, heheheh. i'm a sap thru & thru & thru, & then some. thank you for everything this year. i wish you all the best in 2026!
@junplusone â đŤ hershey!
the night to my day. the cool water that splashes against the blazing hot sand at the beach. i'm not sure when you'll see this, or if you'll even see this at all... but don't worry, i'll send this exact paragraph & then some to you on new years eve, too. you make me so, so, so happy, you silly goose. i don't think there is quite anyone like you on this earth, and i am so happy to coexist at the same time as u. happy new year, hershey. <3
@fallminlove â đ° yumi!
if u all want to know the #1 reason why i got back into kpop after so long of not being in the fandom... here she is. yumi, even though we don't talk as much anymore, even though you are on to bigger and better things with ur big girl job, don't forget about me! 'kay? you played such a huge, significant role in my life and i carry the happy memories of us together so dearly in my heart. take care, and good luck out there, hun. <3
@callisrecords â đď¸ calli!
i've always wanted a younger sister, and honestly... calli, u are everything i could ever dream of in one. u make me laugh so much, and ur always there with a smile on your face to make my day just a little brighter. you remind me so much of fruit trees! i know that's a little silly, but it's true; i can't help but think of orchards, of running around barefoot during the summer time and plucking sweetness off of vines to taste-test. one day, i'll be able to give you the biggest hug, yeah? until then, stay normal about toxic f1 yaoi & don't crash out too hard over practicals/exams !! or else i'll have a NASTY talk with the heads of ur school ...
@etherealyoungk â đŚ skye!
tossin' and turnin' at night trying to figure out the perfect message to put here. i give up in exchange of offering my whole heart, to someone who is, quite frankly, the jihoon to my soonyoung. artistic devotion knows no bounds when it comes to u, my skye. your messages calm me down in the best ways, and i always am grounded by your constant presence, your thoughtful ideas, and your sound reassurances. let it be known to the world that i'm always rooting for u! and heheh, i remember that u told me, "i'm going to give you a big ol' sappy paragraph for new years," but i guess i beat you to it, hm?
@wheeboo â 𪝠rania!
rania, my first moot on caratblr. can u hear me sobbing in the background? even though we don't talk anymore, i catch myself over a cup of tea thinking about our warm conversations and the comfort of your words on a rainy day. i am cheering u on forevermore, through your time as a psych undergrad to whatever u are going on to conquer next in this big world. it's your stage, after all; your show and everyone else is just livin' in it. go get 'em, tiger! mwwwaaahh!
@heartepub â đ viv!
viv :(( u've never been less than kind to me as an ate. i've learned sm about myself and the world around us, and i can thank you for it. because of you, i've learned to become more aware of my actions, of my intentions, of what it means to be alive and breathing and human. u have so much wisdom stored within ur hands, and i want to hold them and bring them to ur chest where ur heart lays and remind u to leave some for urself, always. u are so strong and so precious to so many people, me included. thank u, thank u, thank u. take care, viv, i hope i can stay in touch with u after the new year. c:
@studioeisa â đĽ kae!
kae... u are love itself. the embodiment of a kiss to the cheek, of a tightly gripped hand, of the warm laughter caused by a sheepish, hushed joke. the sun rises for u in the east and blows a kiss goodnight in the west. never forget that u are love, and therefore death and life and everything in between, and that u are made of stardust. good music will follow you throughout your time here. i just know it.
@wooahoe â đĽ seulbi!
SEULBI! this is me shaking your shoulders and reminding you to never stop loving. your heart is so big and full of emotions, it's hard not to get carried away when talking to u... always remember to prioritize yourself & your health, 'kay? one step at a time. you're doing great in this little silly journey we call life, and i want you to enjoy it so thoroughly, taking in the smell of all the flowers and wonderful pastries it has to offer. my dms are always, always, always open & i truly am wishing the best for u in ur future, love!
@shinysobi â âď¸ ro!
the famous ro... oh, ro, i hope u know u are so, so, so loved. thank u for more than i could ever ask for; the late night talks, the silly gushing over uji, the plotting and discussing of storylines from our wildest imaginations. u are very dear to me, and the reason why this blog exists in the first place! ppyopulii owes her life to u. i owe my heart to u.
here is my gift to u for the new year: j's lullaby (darlin' i'd wait for u) by delaney bailey
@himewonu â đ rianca!
kissing u gently on the forehead. pushing ur hair back from ur face and behind ur ear. ri, if there's anything i want u to know from our time as moots, it's that i truly think u are a good person. u are not ur worst mistake, and u are not ur past, either. take care, 'kay? even tho we barely talked, i was always cheering u on from the sidelines, supporting u through everything. always.
@hanniescookie â đˇ augustine!
august august august. though we don't talk much, you have always been one of the sweetest people here on caratblr, and i stand by that. truly jeonghannie's angel. honestly, u truly remind me of the softest, kindest bunny imaginable, one that looks up at its owner with its' big ol' boba eyes and cute button nose. u are so valued, hun. i hope your blankets are always fluffy, your coats are always warm, and that u have a very happy new year. :)
@mylovesstuffs â đ celeste!
cel, do u know how adored u are? i truly hope u do. honestly, whenever ur user popped up on my dash, it brought such a smile to my face. one of the kindest souls to grace this earth, and also one of the most savage (this is a compliment). u never made conversations dry & always wished the best for people, and i hope u know that i wish the best for you, in your successful journey thru life. also... i wished for joshua hung to show up for u on new years eve. for the new years kiss, ofc. ;)
this is so embarrassing bc i'm tearing up while writing all of these. LOL. no one look at me, i just want u all to know that u are so dear to everyone around u! i think we all forget sometimes just how much of an impact we have on ppl. this is one of those reminders that yes, u exist, and yes, ur stardust has reached little ol' me.
and it doesn't end there at this list. to all my followers who have commented on my works, or reblogged with keysmashes, or even did line by line analysis on my fics (u know who u are and i am seriously giving u the biggest smooch ever)... u are so, so, so dear to me... i thank u for ur time. i thank u for ur love, for being u in response to when i have laid my soul bare on the dining table.
there are infinitely more songs to dance alone in our rooms to, lyrics to cry our hearts out to, poems to shout at the top of our lungs. i can only hope that the good ones forever find you all. thank you, thank you, thank you. from the bottom of my heart. :)
PREVIEW. The limelight is yoursâyouâve been itching for it ever since your debut only six months ago, and your pathway to stardom is a straight-shot after being recruited to be the opener for the world-famous rock band CH33RS. This a hundred day tour is sure to bring you the fame you know youâre deserving of, especially after the announcement of your upcoming debut album. The only catch? WOOZI, lead singer of CH33RS, seems to hate you.
FEATURING. rockstar!lee jihoon x risingstar!reader
GENRE(S). drama, angst, fluff, smut (mdni.)
LENGTH | WC. <3.5 hrs | 27.5k (PHEW)
TAGS | EXPLICITS. cursing, miscommunication, not really e2l more like they just get off on the wrong foot, lots & lots of tension, mentions of drug use, mentions of alcohol use, reader suffers from anxiety, mistreatment of idols by staff, mentions of needles from piercings (belly button, lobe, eyebrow, nose), descriptions of violence, frieren spoilers (!!!) | dom!ljh, sub!r, oral (r), fingering (r), finger sucking, reader has breasts, one (1) pussy slap, riding, doggy style, unprotected sex (pls be careful y'allâŚ), sir kink, nicknames (ljh calls r pretty, baby)
JAYâS MUSINGS. FOR YUKI'S 100 MILESTONE COLLAB! i had an absolute BLAST getting to meet so many new ppl thru this collab & am excited to read through everyone else's work! additional warning: this is the craziest, longest projection Iâve ever done onto the mc for a fic. pls don't perceive me too hard. this is ALSO my smut debut (ă¤ďš<ă)⌠I fear they get hella freaky. once again, pls donât perceive me too hard. BIG BIG thank you to calli & hershey (@hhaechansmoless & @junplusone), my loves, for seeing me through this. (those sprints were insane btw. u guys rock. love u eternally.)
LISTEN TO THE SETLIST HERE! (đ§) fan favorites include california & he gets me so high by beabadoobee, r u mine, snap out of it, do i wanna know?, & 505 by arctic monkeys.
đ SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
The photoshoot set is loudâtoo loud, if anyone were to ask you.
No one does, of course. Your make-up artist instead squeezes another shot of red cherry lip stain to your already plumped lips, batting her eyelashes and gushing over how your eyes are being complimented just right. Behind you, a photographer with a neon green mohawk mutters to themselves that youâre wearing too few layers for whatâs supposed to be a corporate setting, but theyâre shushed by the stylist who starts to preach about rebellion against a capitalistic and patriarchal society. Thereâs a flashing show of cameras going on up front where the office setting is, dulled-out office furniture turned over and papers scattered everywhere, with the camera staff making their final adjustments to the illumination.
The light hurts your head. You kind of want to take a Tylenol and pass out.
Just when the make-up artist begins to babble on about some sort of skin care routine to take care of the acne scars on your cheeks, your savior shows up.
Joshua.
âOh, thank fuck that youâre here,â you sigh, pushing the staff member off of you in a barely professional manner. âAre we starting soon? Itâs been like, two hours now.â
Your manager has the nerve to raise an eyebrow like heâs not the one causing you to be put through overstimulating torture. âWerenât you the one begging to have a shoot with Rolling Stone? I went through hell trying to get you this gig.â
Tugging on the garter for one of your fishnet sleeves, you begin to fix your outfit from the horrors of prolonged sitting time, readjusting the tiers of silver jewelry around your neck. Joshua waits for you patiently, holding out a bottle of water that you gratefully chug down once youâre done.
âLook, this photoshoot is going to be good for you, you know. You need the exposure, especially with your upcoming debut album and tour.â
âUpcoming debut album and opener for a tour,â you sourly correct. âInstead of going on my own world tour, I get to be the background music to a merch line full of idiots who are probably high out of their minds, waiting for the main performance.â
You can tell when Joshuaâs patience wears thin. He does this thing where his left eyebrow twitches in an attempt to stop his face from twisting into a scowl, and sometimes heâll even pinch the bridge of his stupidly perfectly bridged nose with his index finger and thumb, rubbing it like a lucky charm.
The man sighs and surprisingly regains composure before speaking. âYouâre still a rising star, Sairen. Rising doesnât mean world-renowned. Rising means just starting out. Weâve had this conversation before.â
Your body involuntarily stiffens at the mention of your stage name. Sairen. A classic take on the seducing mythological creature that lures sailors to their death with an irresistible voice. When signing with the label PHOENIX, they insisted you use a stage name to increase your appeal to the target audience.
A persona raging with lustful eyes and dripping in confidence would make sales rocket, they praised, holding their breaths as they listened to your first playback. Embrace this mask on stageâitâll give you the courage you need to score big.
But Iâm already scoring big as I am right now, you wanted to argue.
Of course, your signature ended up neatly scribbled onto the contract anyway.
It wasnât like you hated performingâno, you lived for the stage. Memories of your first live performance seep into your mind, the crowdâs energy shaking you to the core. Hearing people scream the lyrics to a song you wrote from the depths of your heart, and knowing they related tenfold to your words meant more to you than anything else in the world. From handmade bracelets to thank-you notes thrown on stage, you swore to continue giving back to your community. Your fans were one of the only things holding you together.
Because the constant hiding from on-slaughtering paparazzi? The diets your staff started to put you on, claiming they would help you lose weight? The fake interviewers with their fake smiles and even faker compliments?
You were tired of itâtoo tired of it, if anyone asked you.
But once again, no one does, and with only one more moment of hesitation does Joshua usher you to the front of the set.
đ BUSAN, KOREA
Lee Jihoon can barely believe his ears.
âSairen? Youâre telling me Jeonghan got Sairen onboard for our tour?â
Soonyoungâs nodding so hard one would think heâs headbanging into another universe. The two of them were currently at a low-lit diner, enjoying kal-guksu over a shared beer.
âYeah! Apparently heâs friends with their manager. They go way back or something, and he owed âem.â Soonyoung slurps a spoonful of noodles into his mouth. âDude, this is huge. Weâve never had an opener who was this big before.â
âThatâs because weâve never had an opener, Soonyoung.â Jihoon raises an eyebrow at his friendâs antics and takes a sip of beer. The alcohol is bitter and tastes cheap on his tongue. âThis is our first time going on a tour big enough to have one.â
âOh. Right.â
The lead singer sighs and, in a bad habit of poor table manners, swirls his chopsticks around mindlessly.
Sairen. The indie rockstar was barely his age, but they were already reaching fame he could only have wished for back then. Jihoon remembers the restless nights waiting in anticipation for CH33RSâ album drop; he remembers the blood, sweat, and tears poured into the debut of the decade, and how the three of them had pushed themselves to limits they didnât even know they had. He wonders how Sairen managed to do itâon their own, nonethelessâand with what will.
Letting out a low whistle, Jihoon kicks back his feet on the boothâs seat, right next to Soonyoung. The drummer makes a whine of protest before reluctantly obliging, scooting over so Jihoonâs clunky boots have more room.
âThis Sairen,â Jihoon picks at his nails, âTheyâre pretty good, from what Iâve heard. But they donât exactly fit our concept that much.â
Soonyoung scoffs, pointing his chopsticks at his bandmate accusingly. âYouâre just jealous âcause you like their style. You wanna copy, donât you?â
He tsks. Jihoonâs never been one for being read, especially by someone like Soonyoung.
Itâs true; Sairenâs sound is unique and, like their stage name suggests, utterly captivating. He still doesnât understand how theyâre able to hit those haunting, spine-chilling high notes in their songs; Jihoonâs tried a shameful number of times to recreate the sounds, all unsuccessful.
Maybe this tour will prove useful, after all.
âDo you know when weâre meeting them?â Jihoon asks, totally ignoring his friendâs prior question.
Soonyoung tilts his head and rests his chin on his palm. Heâs staring daggers into Jihoonâs soul again, a slitted eyebrow perfectly arched under the dim diner lighting.
âWhat? You interested in them or something? They are pretty hot.â
Jihoon moves his heavy-footed boot, and Soonyoung yelps. Rubber meets skin and Jihoon knows heâs hit a nerve when the older man starts whining for him to stop. He, albeit reluctantly, stops digging into Soonyoungâs thigh and opts for tapping a beat on the worn wood of the booth seat.
âI fear your lust is whatâs going to disband our group,â Jihoon scowls.
The waiter comes at the perfect time with the check, and he watches Soonyoung neatly stack their bowls and cups together.
Flipping his hood up, the two band members shuffle their way out of the diner, the Busan wind meeting them head-on from the second they step out the door. Seungcheol is probably in the studio refining his guitar strings, Jihoon notes, as Soonyoung calls for a cab.
Itâs still early in the evening, the sky on the brink of darkening into night. If he were farther inland, Jihoon would be craning his neck trying to see the stars that twinkle into view. Here, though, in the heart of the city, he knows itâs futile. Thereâs too much light pollution competing with the organic phenomena of the galaxy.
Jihoon purses his lips in thought. Humankind really knows how to fuck up natural beauties.
Soonyoung is calling his name, waving eagerly from the open back door of a taxi that will take them back to the studio. Raising a hand to signal heâs heard the obnoxiously rowdy calls of his friend, Jihoon trudges forward, forcing the stars out of his mind.
After all, forward is the only way to go around these parts.
đ SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
WOOZI is⌠shorter in person.
Youâre not sure why you notice him first; maybe it was indeed his height, or perhaps itâs because heâs the only one whoâs actively not paying any attention to the matter at hand. Itâs silent, save for murmurs of staff in the background, as Jihoon chugs water from a bottle someone gave him. A sliver of his abdomen is revealed as his head tilts back to get the last few drops, and to your surprise, you catch a peek of shiny black ink from under his white tank top.
Was it always this warm in the lounge room?
You shift awkwardly from one foot to another as a blondie with a mole on the apple of his cheek begins to introduce the members of CH33RS. Not like you needed one, anyway; you were more than familiar with the band.
CH33RS, a rock group that debuted barely two years ago. Composed of S.COUPS, HOSHI, and WOOZI, theyâve made an impressive dent in the K-rock world, hitting chart numbers you wouldnât think were possible in someoneâs early twenties. Their debut album, CHANGE UP!, charted in the top ten for Billboard, practically shooting them into stardom with people worldwide eagerly anticipating their release of new music.
Now, with their comeback and announcement of their world tour, RUBY, itâs a pure miracle you were able to even get a greeting from them. Itâs even more of a miracle that you were able to score an opportunity to be their opener for the North America shows.
Thereâs a hand shaking yours. Breaking out of your trance, youâre met with the bright smile of HOSHI, the bandâs drummer. His energy must be what got him the role of their percussionist, because you physically feel the drainage of your social battery from the vigor he has in shaking your hand.
âHi! Itâs so nice to meet you, Sairen, I canât wait to see your performances,â heâs saying with a smile that rivals the sun.
His English is tinged with an accent, but you donât find yourself minding. Your lips stretch into a smile, spurred on by his youthful spirit, and tell him he can call you by your real name.
âThereâs no need for formalities when weâll be working together.â You brush a stray hair out of your eyes and bow slightly to him; Joshua practically whacked good manners into you like you were some unruly kid who never learned how to take their muddy shoes off in a house. âIâm looking forward to working with you for the next few months as well.â
HOSHIâs eyes light up. He tells you that while he doesnât mind being called his stage name, Soonyoung works just fine too, and for once in a blue moon, your heart warms for a coworker.
S.COUPS, also known as Seungcheol, is next. He bows deeply to you and extends his hand like a businessman. He was only adorned in a worn hoodie and baggy jeans, but if you didnât know any better as an outsider, you wouldâve guessed that the man was about to propose the best deal of your life.
To your right, the blonde man with the mole mutters something in Seungcheolâs ear. Seungcheol dips his head to you once more and steps back with a polite smile. âIt is nice to meet you.â
You give him a brief smile. His eyes are the only thing that isnât serious about him, and remind you of the gaze of a fawnâs that you would see in your backyard when you were youngerâbig, and filled with wonder.
Finally, WOOZI raises his hand in acknowledgment. Youâre taken by surprise once again by him, as he doesnât even bother stepping forward to greet you.
âWOOZI. Looking forward to working with you.â
You blink. âSairen. Likewise.â
The air feels thick, and it takes Joshua coughing to get everyone back in action. Blondie with the mole introduces himself as Jeonghan, their manager, and youâre not quite sure if you like the twinkle in his eyes when they sweep over you and your manager.
âNow that introductions are over, our first schedule with the four of you will be a promotional shoot for the tour.â Joshua is clapping his hands like a director, and some staff members begin to scurry around for your guysâ belongings. âWeâll be taking separate cars, but weâll see you at the shoot.â
Youâre out the door before you can say formal goodbyes, but you manage to catch the friendly smiles on Seungcheol and Soonyoungâs faces while youâre being bustled along by staff members. Your ever-loving manager clicks the button to the elevator and heaves a sigh.
âStill angry over who youâre opening for?â he inquires. âI promise, theyâre not a bad bunch to be around! Even Jihoonâer, WOOZI. I actually know all of âem pretty well; Jeonghan and I, we grew up in the industry together. Youâre in good hands.â
You choose not to respond as you board the elevator, pressing the level for parking and reaching for your phone. There are no notifications, of course, but you fiddle with the folders of apps on your homescreen anyway to busy yourself. Joshua whistles a tune.
Maybe if you were lucky today, youâd be able to sneak away to a park somewhere and use that new gardening app youâve been meaning to try out. You think back to your busy schedule and sigh; if only another miracle could happen, where someone with good intentions kidnaps you and steals you away.
âThe photoshoot,â you finally say. âHow many people are gonna be there? Same as last time?â
Your manager tenses. âI requested for less staff this time, but Iâm not sure how well it came across to the company. Let me know if we need to schedule an early leave, okay?â
The elevator halts in time with your tightening chest. You blink hard and fast, trying to rid yourself of the images of bright lights and too many people talking to you at once. Thereâs a hand on your back, and though you want to curse Joshua for reminding you of your predicament, you instead find yourself aching for the circles he rubs into your shoulder blade.
âFuck you,â you mutter. Joshua only laughs. âIf I react this way later, donât be surprised.â
â
You do, to your credit, react that way later.
Someoneâs shouting for you across the set room. The room is alive with people, animated laughter ringing out as staff members run to and fro. Itâs even worse since itâs not just you whoâs being attended to, but three additional men. You can hear the cheerful voice of Soonyoung combined with Seungcheolâs requests to staff members for more water. Jihoon, on the other hand, is nowhere to be found.
Your name is called again and you flinch, muttering a half-hearted apology to the makeup artist who gives you a stink eye for messing up their work. The denim shorts theyâre having you wear for this shoot are chafing your thighs. It takes everything in you not to throw a tantrum right then and there.
âThere you are!â the sound manager barks, and you startle again, much to the stylistâs displeasure. âIâve been looking all over you. Why havenât you been to the front of the set yet? The lighting manager wants to ask for your opinion on filters.â
You want to bite back that what theyâre asking is definitely a Joshua question, but you hold your tongue, sighing. Think of the park. Think of the flowers.
âIâll be right there in a second, Iâm almost done here.â
The makeup artist scowls. âYou are not almost done here, are you kidding me? Iâm gonna need a lot more time than a second.â
âPlease hurry it up, then. Weâre on a tight schedule; CH33RS is almost ready and we only have about two hours booked for this shoot.â
The sound manager leaves without another word. Your knuckles are paling from how tightly youâre gripping the arms of the styling chair, chewing the inside of your cheek until you taste the familiar metallic flavor of blood.
âYou heard the man,â the makeup artist huffs. âStop moving and maybe Iâll actually get something done to make you look better.â
Their brush clatters to the floor.
Before you know it, youâre out of the chair and in their face, teeth bared. Itâs gotten eerily silent in the room way too fast. âYouâre lucky my manager pities your company enough to work with you. How dare you treat me this way, and over a problem thatâs not mine, no less.â
Youâre about to say more, but thereâs a cold tap of a finger on your shoulder. You twist, ready to charge yet again, but the sight of Jihoonâs sharp expression halts you in your tracks.
âCare to tell me why youâre yelling at a staff member? One your manager personally hired, too?â He raises an eyebrow.
You scoff. His perfect English pisses you off; it tells you his short introduction wasnât due to lack of vocabulary, but lack of desire to greet you. âStay the fuck out of this, Jihoon. You donât know shit.â
The manâs eyes turn icy. You warily take a step back.
âMy name to you is WOOZI. If you canât even have the decency to treat your own staff members with respect, the least you can do to make up for it is refer to me by the name I prefer. Know your place, Sairen.â
With that, WOOZI turns around, coolly walking away without even a glance back to check if youâve heard what heâs said. Seungcheol claps WOOZI on the back and says something in Korean, and Soonyoung starts up a conversation to kick the room back into action.
It works, and youâre left alone as the room bustles back to life, the makeup artist disappearing somewhere you couldnât care less for.
Your cheeks sting, hot from embarrassment at being treated like a misbehaving child in front of dozens of people. You can hear the rumors alreadyâSairen, known for a biting tongue, finally humbled, and by no other than one of the members of the band theyâre opening for. A classic powerplay that will haunt you even when the stage lights dim and the crowd cheers for an encore.
You barely register Joshua at your side. Heâs speaking to you, pressing a cold water bottle to your neck to snap you back to reality.
Instead, tears prick your eyes, and your bottom lip wobbles. The sound manager from before is yelling again, no doubt trying to rush you, but the last thing you want is to be around people. The park will have to be saved for another day.
âIâm going to the bathroom. Tell the director Iâll be a bit.â
You donât even wait for Joshuaâs response before youâre walking away, arms crossed and head down.
đ SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
Your head leans against the glass, the material cool against your forehead. The clouds across the sky streak red and pink as the sun peers out from behind a vast forest of evergreens. You stare at the outlined branches, imagining the rough, spiky bumps of a pinecone in your hands. Would it be less painful to hold a thousand of them bare, rather than have to be the bearer of WOOZIâs wrath?
A sudden lurch halts your reminiscences, the driver apologizing for the sudden brakes being hit, and you can faintly hear Joshua with his hasty forgiveness.
At least the tour was going well, you think bitterly.
You hate that itâs true; Joshua had excitedly woken you up this morning for your four oâclock flight with the news that three of the next upcoming shows for RUBY had sold out. In your stupor, you had spilled the poorly-made hotel coffee he had brought on yourself, leading to the man worriedly giving you treatment for any mild burns.
âJoshua, itâs fine,â you had stammered, hurriedly trying to ease the sting by pressing cold towels to your thigh and left wrist.
Contrary to how he acted with you in the industry, your manager was a kind manâit was one of his few redeeming qualities. He shooed you into the bathroom with a change of clothes, telling you heâd brief you more on the matter on the car ride later.
Now, on the vehicle, he sits beside you as you listen to him rattle off all the things you should theoretically be giddy about.
âTonight, Vancouver, and Salt Lake City all were bought out once you finished up in San Francisco,â Joshua is puttering, typing away at some very important work emails on his laptop. âThe crowd was great for a first show, of course, but because of how well your and CH33RSâ energy was, the internet is going wild with clips. Streams with How Tomorrow Moves have upped like, 16% overnight. Youâre doing really well.â
âJust as they predicted,â you muse, tapping your chin with an indifference that makes Joshuaâs eye twitch.
âHey, their predictions donât dictate that stuff, you know.â You feel the brush of his hoodie against your skin; a familiar way of his to show that in the end, he truly does care about you. âYou dictate that stuff. Your energy, your performance, it all comes down to you. Not some shabby company that uses you like a pawn.â
You snort, slightly pushing him away and grinning at him. âCanât believe youâre shittalking your boss, just like that.â
Joshua rolls his eyes as the trees start to give way to suburban developments, signaling that a restroom stop is close.
âYouâre a human, too. Donât forget that.â
His words stick with you throughout the remainder of the road trip.
You know CH33RS took a bus, them having more staff compared to you and your manager, and youâre grateful that Joshua listened to your request of taking a separate car to allow you to get more rest.
The flight itself was awful enoughâtwo hours of staring straight ahead and trying to ignore WOOZIâs distant nature beside you. Soonyoung, who had been on your left, fell asleep rather quickly, leaving you no choice but to daydream about being anywhere but next to the lead singer of CH33RS.Â
You knew that WOOZI had an aloof nature; it was something fangirls giggled relentlessly about in the comment section of his Instagram posts and YouTube covers. You were expecting his lack of emotion, even, but you never would have guessed he would have been so openly hostile towards you on your first day of meeting.
And over a staff member who was disrespecting you, nonetheless!
Out of the corner of your eye, you had taken a peek at him, earbuds in and eyes shut. If he hadnât been so arrogant about being the bigger person in that situation, maybe the two of you could be talking about inspiration for music instead of sitting in complete silence on the flight.
Too bad he had to be a complete dick who inserted himself into situations that didnât even involve him.
You sigh, dragging your luggage out of the elevator and into the luxurious hallway of yet another hotel. Tonightâs show was sure to be highly anticipated, but all you wanted to do was curl up on your bed and watch anime. You heard Frieren was being highly reviewed these days, and you were itching to watch it.
âRemember that once you unpack, youâre scheduled for a dinner with the guys to discuss plans for the next few shows, now that theyâre sold out,â Joshua calls from behind you; thereâs the sound of shuffling and the unlocking of a door to your right. âText me once youâre ready. Weâre heading deeper into the city, so it would be wise to wear something thatâs easy to disguise yourself with.â
Biting your tongue, you numbly nod, and without any more words you hear the heavy hotel door click shut.
â
Jihoon knows he should apologize to you.
He stands backstage, a staff member making sure the mic on his outfit is secure. With his forefinger and thumb, Jihoon twirls his iconic red microphone in his hand, letting the sensation of applause from your latest performance wash over him with satisfaction. That dramatic high note at the end was something he only ever dreamed of hearing, but here he was, listening to you belt your heart out live to a bunch of strangers.
That day, back during the photoshoot, Seungcheol had cornered him during a scheduled break. He remembers the crazed look in the bassistâs eyes, lips turned so forcefully upside down that Jihoon had to steady the man before asking him what was wrong.
âWhyâd you upset Sairen like that?â Seungcheol huffed. âMan, we just met them today. Youâre gonna get rumors to spread and our tour hasnât even started yet.â
Faintly, the sound of a vase clattering to the floor flashes through Jihoonâs mind. He remembers cupping a face in his hands and shouting for someone to call an ambulance.
His worry must be evident on his face, because Seungcheolâs frown eases into a sympathetic grimace. âYou know, Sairen was being mistreated first. They had the sound manager on their ass, and I heard from Jeonghan that their makeup artist wasnât the greatest to them, either. Cut them some slack, will you?â
âThat gives them no right to treat their staff that way, hyeong,â Jihoon points out, gritting his teeth together. âThey should know better than to outright challenge a worker like that. It wonât work in their favorânot here. Not when all they have is Joshua behind them.â
Seungcheol heaves a sigh; one that Jihoon knows all too well, when Soonyoung steals too much of the kimchi without permission or when Jeonghan plays another nasty prank on him.
âWe were in their shoes once,â Seungcheol chides, nudging his shoulder. âAnd you, out of everyone here, should know what itâs like to be looked down upon by everyone except a select few. Try and have some sympathy, even if it only lasts the hundred days weâre together with them.â
Now, in the present, Jihoon watches you hype up the crowd for the main event of CH33RS. Youâre decked in an outfit that emphasizes your figure just right, the red crop-top letting your belly button piercing take full stage in the twinkling lights. He never knew you had one; you werenât one to post pictures often on social media, and when you did for brand collabs, it was never flaunted.
Maybe it had been an impulse decision before the tour startedâbefore you met him, and before your life changed too much for you to keep up with.
Shaking his head, the singer turns around and looks for his bandmates. It was no use overthinking the past; he had done what he did, and now you avoided him like the plague. Your stink eyes could rival Seungcheolâs, thatâs for sure.
âThank you, Seattle!â He hears you shout into the mic. âIâll be back, donât you worry!â
The roar of the crowd is deafening, and he knows youâre taking your final bow. Thereâs probably glitter running down your neck from the sweat youâve gained onstage, your makeup being ruined from the performance, and he wonders what it would be like to wipe away the cold expression off your face and be the receiver of a smile, instead.
No matter. The music fades to instrumentals of CH33RSâ songs as the sound of your chunky boots treads offstage. Soonyoungâs running up to you with a grin, saying that you outperformed the first show in San Francisco, and youâre laughing in his arms. Jihoon feels like thereâs a frog in his throat.
âWell done, Sairen.â Seungcheol beams. âIf weâre not careful, youâre going to be the main performance instead of us.â
âSeungchâS.COUPS,â you correct yourself, smiling bashfully up at the bassist. âThank you, but you know that isnât true. Those people are out there for you. Me being here doesnât change that.â
Jihoonâs heard enough. One of the staff members calls for last-minute bathroom runs and outfit changes, saying CH33RS will be up in no less than fifteen minutes. Before he can rationalize with himself to congratulate you on your show, heâs scurrying off to the bathroom, cheeks alight with something he refuses to recognize.
â
For the first time in days, you donât want to tear your hair out when interacting with a staff member whoâs not Joshua.
Sakura, one of the permanent stylists for CH33RS, sits you in a chair and begins to help you take your makeup off. Your breaths are still coming in heavy pants, chest rising and falling all too quickly, and the girl responds by handing you a bottle of water.
âDrink, please.â
Itâs the most care youâve gotten in the industry since Joshua became your manager. You sit, quietly sipping the water, a warm feeling in your chest rising as Sakura begins to wipe your face and moisturize it without any cruel remarks or biting, back-handed comments.
Even from backstage, inside a well-padded dressing room, you can still hear the audienceâs booming cheers accompanied by the high-pitched strum of a guitar. WOOZIâs voice, a symphony to your ears, begins to ring faintly. You close your eyes and let the calmness wash over you.
Maybe Joshua was right; maybe you were doing well this time around, and this tour was going to be your key to stardom. The stomach in your pit ached to be seen, to be known, to be heard, and tonight it feasted on the crowdâs voices singing along to your music. Flowers and handmade beaded bracelets notes had been tossed onstage, making your heart melt as you profusely thanked Seattle.
This is what you were made forâputting your all out there for those who needed a voice. Not to perform some shitty, fake and lustful persona that PHOENIX wanted to market you for.
Your eyes flutter open as Sakura murmurs that sheâs almost done. Letting out a breath of relief, your lips curl into a smile. âThank you, Sakura. I appreciate you.â
She pauses in putting away the moisturizer. Joshua had taught you some simple Korean, especially for etiquette, but you guessed that Sakura was still surprised at hearing you speak to her so willingly.
Her big brown eyes blink once, twice, thrice at you before she dips her head. âAh⌠youâre welcome. Please let me know if you need anything else.â
âOf course. Thank you once more.â
There it is againâSakura lets her lips part oh-so slightly. You tilt your head, a quizzical smile on your face, but she quickly waves her hands in dismissal before offering you another goodbye.
Once she leaves, youâre left to your own devices, your manager off somewhere making plans for the upcoming days before the next show. The guys shouldnât be here for about another hour, you muse, idling on your phone. You had started Frieren last night, but the oncoming slaughter of cheers from outside gives you the impression it would be hard to enjoy at the moment. Maybe you should order some food instead.
The brief thought crosses your mind of ordering food for CH33RS now, so the wait time wouldnât be too long. It has you hesitating over the screen, thumb barely brushing the Order Now button on your favorite takeout place.
You wonder what WOOZIâs favorite food is.
Scoffing, you turn your phone off and throw it onto the vanity, its case clattering against the wood. Now was no time to think about a man who had majorly upset you.
Thereâs a knock on the dressing room door. You let your chin fall to your palm. âCome in.â
When Joshua enters, he finds you in deep thought, still sitting in the chair Sakura had you sit in almost half an hour ago. You watch him reach for the half-empty bottle.
âStill has a lot left. You should finish it,â he simply says, handing it to you. âNice job out there. Weâll have to post the pre-show photos we took later tonight, with a thank you again to Seattle.â
Begrudgingly, you drink the rest of the water, swishing it back with a satisfying gulp.
âI was thinking of ordering some food,â you offer, trying to change the topic. âDo you know what kind the guys like?â
At this, Joshua hums thoughtfully. âDidnât know you were the considerate type.â
Though his tone is in jest, your stomach twists in a way unrelated to hunger. You roll your eyes as you hear the crowd go wild at Soonyoungâs drum solo.
âPlease. I have to at least try and be cordial.â
The left side of Joshuaâs mouth lifts in turn. He takes a step back, right out of reach to not be a victim of your quick fingers, before taking out his phone.
âLucky for you, thereâs this place nearby I know of. Jihoon likes jjajangmyun a lot, and itâs a pretty popular dish there.â
Ding! Your phone buzzes on the vanity. Eying him with distrust, you pick up the device, only to be met with the address to a Korean takeout place not too far away.
Joshuaâs back is to you before you can form a coherent answer; you watch, flabbergasted, as his hand reaches for the door. When it opens, it creaks slightly before being drowned out by the cheers of fans.
âDonât forget to post those photos once CH33RS ends their show,â he throws over his shoulderâand then heâs gone.
Damnit, Josh. You grit your teeth, your fingers pressing hard on the screen of your phone. It lights up to reveal your screensaver, the late time of 10:36 gleaming in the dressing roomâs fluorescents. A sigh falls out of you.
Your chin rests on your palm again as you contemplate your managerâs suggestion. Youâre irked by that pit in your stomach once more; the one that curls in your gut during the night as you lie awake, wondering if this career path was the right one to take.
The guilt screams at you to give WOOZI another chanceâafter all, perhaps you had just gotten off on the wrong foot. Your index finger hesitates over the menu button for the restaurant, the choice feeling heavy in your hands.
And then a sweaty, shirtless WOOZI barges through your dressing room door, his face red and neck veins prominent.
âGet out.â
You let out a shriek, covering your eyes in embarrassment. âOh my god, dudeââ
Heâs not even listening to you. You hear something crash to the floorâa bottle of some sort of product, probablyâand then WOOZIâs snarling at you again.
âGet. Out.â
Meekly, you stand and bow. That feeling of shame rises within you, hot and burning, as you make a beeline for the door. You want toâno, need toâget out of here, as fast as possible.
In your hurry, you fail to notice the tears staining WOOZIâs cheeks and his heavy breathing, tormented by a feeling you knew only too well.
â
âWho the fuck do they think they are!?â
Jihoonâs frustrated scream echoes throughout the hotel room. Heâs got his head in his hands, raking his hair and taking pleasure in the feeling of his nails scraping against his scalp. It sends shivers down his spine in the most sinfully alive way possible.
âWe should fire them all,â he fumes. Soonyoung is quietly criss-crossed on the bed, hands in his lap, while Seungcheolâs got his hands rubbing whatâs supposed to be calming circles into Jihoonâs back. âFuck them. How dare they say those things to you?â
âIt was my fault,â Soonyoung mumbles, head hanging low. âI deserved it. You know as well as Iââ
ââthat this is no way for staff members to treat musicians?â Jihoon finishes, raising his head sharply at his bandmateâs resignation. âThat you did nothing wrong other than try and say hello to the fans? That the staff members are treating us as some species of zoo animal to be put on display?â
âJihoon.â Seungcheol warns.
The younger man wipes the back of his hand across his face. When he brings it away, his fingers are coated in saltwater and snot. Jihoon feels like his whole body is on fire, tingling with energy he cannot let loose.
America is different from Korea. That much, Jihoon knows.
However, he never imagined that the difference would be so⌠stark. Here, fans were wild and unpredictable, unlike the routine nature of Korean fans who stayed silent during performances, except for fan chants. There were hecklers during their crowdwork, and wolf-whistlers werenât uncommon throughout shows.
Jihoon slides another hand down his face. He knew Soonyoung meant well with his plan, and was trying to be carefulâthe show was well over, with the crowd dissipating almost at once to the merch booth over by the entrance.
He had watched the entire thing from the stage: Soonyoungâs whoop of joy as he jumped the barricade, accompanied by the screams of fans. They swarmed him, practically tearing at his clothes, and security had to drag the drummer out of the mass of people.
It ended in a scolding, not from Jeonghan but from one of the leading managers of the venue. Curses had been thrown, saying that if Soonyoung had gotten more hurt than a scratch, theyâd be liable for damages done to a foreign artist.
Jihoonâs fists clench again at the memory of the managerâs tone. He was some old guy in his early forties, no doubt, but the contempt held in his voice would make one think he had been from early colonial days.
âThis is why we canât let these kinds of people perform here,â the singer had heard the man murmuring to another staff member.
A soft knock at the hotel door startles Jihoon out of his thoughts. Soonyoung jumps up from his place on the bed, alarmed, but Seungcheol waltzes to the door like heâs been expecting the visitor for a while now.
âDelivery,â comes a muffled voice from outside.
Yoon Jeonghanâs arms are full of takeout bags and drinks. Itâs more than enough for four men, but Jihoon knows the intention behind the gesture.Â
Sometimes, one has to drown out the sorrows in good food and company.
âWow,â Soonyoung breathes, immediately reaching for the chopsticks Jeonghan supplies from one of the various bags. âWhereâd you get all this food?â
Jeonghan snorts. âA restaurant.â
He watches as Seungcheol snickers at the drummerâs whine. Jihoon accepts the wooden chopsticks heâs been given, cracking them apart and methodically swiping them together to get rid of the wood shavings peeling off. Sending a quick thanks to the universe, he digs in without another thought, absentmindedly listening in on the rambling conversation of the other guys.
ââŚthey recommended it to me. Said theyâd heard it was good, and thought it would cheer you guys up after what happened,â Jeonghanâs explaining.
Jihoonâs ears perk up at this. Heâs slurping on a jjajangmyun noodle when he tunes back into what his managerâs saying.
âI should thank them tomorrow,â Soonyoung sighs solemnly. âWe shouldâve invited them to eat with us, actually. I bet Sairen has good food recommendations everywhere, and itâd be nice to hang out with them outside of work.â
Jihoon makes a face. Him? Hanging out with Sairen?
âOh, is the jjajangmyun not good, Jihoon?â
Seungcheol is looking at him with concern, his chopsticks neatly placed on the cover of his takeout box.
âNo, theyâre fine,â Jihoon shakes his head; quietly, he adds, âGood, even.â
A head of blonde whips to face him. âOh? You have Sairen to thank for that,â Jeonghan smirks, dabbing his face with a napkin. âThey made the recommendation specifically for you and your love of jjajangmyun, actually.â
The noodle suddenly tastes like dirt in his mouth. Heâs choking before he realizes it, reaching for the water bottle on the coffee table and downing it in one go. A splatter of water dribbles down his chin from how fast heâs drinking it.
Soonyoung gawks. âJihoon, youâre red as fuck.â
âYeah, âcause I just choked on water, idiot,â Jihoon argues, though he knows itâs futileâknows that Seungcheolâs looking at him with concern in a different tone, and knows that Jeonghan knew what he was doing when he brought up you.
Clearing his throat, he flips the lid on his takeout box and sets it on the coffee table with little care. He doesnât like the look on Jeonghanâs face: eyebrows raised slightly, lips curving upwards with a knowing turn. Seungcheol and Soonyoungâs matching expressions are even worseâconfusion mixed with a healthy spoonful of apprehensive perception, like theyâre on the brink of a breakthrough.
âThanks for the food, but you guys can have the rest of it,â Jihoon grumbles. âI think Iâm gonna go back to my room. Goodnight.â
đMINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
After the incident at the Seattle show, WOOZI has been staring at you more often than youâd like.
Your thumb releases from the grip it has on the water coolerâs knob. As you watch the last few drops drip into your bottle, you simultaneously feel the shift of WOOZIâs gaze fall away from his perch on the couch.
You donât say anything to him as you walk past, shoulders tense with unspoken words at the tip of your tongue. Itâs been a little over two weeks, but nothing has been said between the two of you other than greeting formalities.
You canât help but think youâve done something wrong.
The stop in Denver, Colorado, helped shape your hypothesis. Briefly, you remember the familiar nerves spiking in your heart before you were meant to go on. While it had been a smaller venue, meaning fewer people overall, it meant a more intimate stage with equally intimate crowdwork.
Soonyoung, slowly being able to pick up on your mood swings and anxious bouts, had sat with you as you vented about the woes of being an American rockstar. It wasnât so different from Korea, he explained, pouting and picking at a protein bar.
Diets still existed. Crazy fans everywhere. Shitty staff, too.
âYou learn to live with it, especially when the good people finally stick around,â Soonyoung had spoken around a mouthful of granola. âLike Jeonghan. Or, I guess for you, Joshua.â
Humming noncommittally, you twirled a stray strand of hair. Even though Soonyoung meant well, the buzzing under your skin had continued, your teeth beginning to chatter even though it was well above freezing backstage.
âOh, Jihoon.â
The name of the lead guitarist and singer made you flinch. You had blanched at the sight of him in his all black stage attire, the boxy button-up accentuating his broad shoulders and cargo pants resting dangerously low. Silver rings adorned his fingers, a particularly thick-chained one sitting pretty on his index finger.
Swallowing heavily, you gladly accepted the towel given to you, dabbing your sweat off your forehead and neck. You didnât even realize it was WOOZI who had handed you the towel, fingers brushing his as you rushed to give it back before you were able to give it another thoughtâto your horror, your skin still remembers how his fingers felt sliding against your wrist, the metal of his accessories having done nothing to help your pounding heart.
âGood luck,â he then offered.
Now, almost a thousand miles away from Denver, Colorado, you were sipping your water, watching WOOZI bounce his leg up and down from your place leaning against the vanity. Stage call was soon, so there was no reason for him to be back hereâyet, here he sits, a mere five feet away from you.
Tonightâs show has him in a sleeveless red tank, a worn-out white star plastered on the front. The chains around his neck glimmer in the dressing room light as he shifts in place, scrolling aimlessly on his phone while he pretends heâs been paying you no mind.
You want to scoff, maybe throw a snide remark at how he has the nerve to stare at you after treating you like trashâbut then WOOZI tosses his head back onto the couch with a groan, pectorals heaving, and all coherent thoughts scurry right out the exit of your brain.
Were tank tops supposed to be that revealing? Perhaps it was time to go back to Victorian ways, after all.
A rap on the door startles you, but not the singer. He merely lets out a loud huff, making a show out of getting up and beginning to stretch his arms out in an attempt to get blood flowing.
âOn in five,â comes the muffled call of a stage crew member outside the door.
You catch the face he makes: his nose scrunches up a little, and he lets out a little shake of his head in dissent. âYeah, yeah. Be there in a minute.â
Capping your bottle, you move to sit on the vanity, eyes following WOOZIâs pre-show routine. Heâs shaking his hair to get his bangs to hang a little more in his face, and that damned part of you that you try to keep hidden away aches to push his fingers away and fix his hair yourself.
You donât, of course.
WOOZIâs making his way to the door now. Something gets stuck in your throatâa good luck, maybe, or a have funâbut you gulp it down when his fingers meet the knob and twist.
Ah. Your gaze is cast to the floor, forlorn. Next show for sure.
To your surprise, your head darts up at the sound of his voice, melodic and soft and everything youâve never been on the receiving end of.
âSee you after?â
Itâs posed as a question, thrown over his shoulder, with his warm brown eyes meeting yours. The silence is so loud you curl your hands so as not to end up covering your ears.
You finally exhale, breath billowing out. The guilt on your shoulders eases up.
âYeah. Take care.â
â
Itâs a little past one in the afternoon when you and CH33RS leave the upskate cafe, laughter ringing out from behind you as you let the glass door close. The Minneapolis breeze hits your face, inviting and warm, and you reach your arms towards the cloudless sky.
âGod, itâs so nice out today!â You sigh, stretching in satisfaction.
Seungcheol nods his head in agreement from a little way behind you, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. âThe weather is nice. No need for a jacket.â
âAnd your English, itâs getting better with every show! Good job,â you encourage, shooting him a thumbs up; the man brightens at your response.
Beside you, Soonyoung swirls his iced coffee around with his straw, taking a sip and seemingly relishing in the aftertaste of grounded coffee beans.
âThat cafe was so yummy,â he groans, squinting up at the sky. âYou know the best food places.â
He stuffs his other hand in the leather jacket heâs wearing, his blonde hair gelled and spiky in the sunâs light. You offer him a grin, subconsciously leaning into him as a gesture of gratitude.
Sightseeing wasnât exactly in your plans during the tour, but when Joshua encouraged it last night as a way to grow closer with the boys, you took up the opportunity with renewed determination. WOOZIâs reluctant acceptance of you makes your heart warm with the feeling of coworkers finally getting along after many unsuccessful trials.
At least, thatâs what you reason with yourself when your heart rate picks up at the sight of him.
The aforementioned singer walks quietly beside the manager assigned to you four today, his wired earbuds bright against the black clothes you had grown used to seeing on him. You eye him, gaze tracing the wire that travels from his jacket pocket to the curve of his jaw and the slope of his ear.
He didnât have many piercings, you notedâunlike Soonyoung, who had enough for a full set of stackers, WOOZI only sported the common, everyday single lobes. Huh.
An idea rises within you, but before you can speak, your body meets all things leather. Thud.
âOh my god! Iâm so sâWait!âAre youâis this groupâCH33RS? Sairen?!â
Bewildered, you hear someone start to speak Korean. You begin backing away from who you ran into only to be met with an equally confused man with short brown hair. Heâs looking down at you like youâve appeared from nowhere, but the shorter man beside him hurries to you with awe displayed plain on his face.
âOh my god, it is youâout of all people to run into himâwow, nice going, Hansolââ
Shaking his head, the man bows deeply to the four of you. When he straightens up, you take in his bleached tips and pierced eyebrow. Hansol, the man you had crashed into, adjusts his gloves with pure shock written all over his expression.
âOh. Sorry, dude. Didnât see you there.â
His companion nudges him, hard. He says something again in Korean that gets a muffled laugh out of WOOZI.
âI am so sorry for him,â the unknown blonde dips his head again. âMy name is Seungkwan. This is Vernon, but I call him Hansol. Weâre big fans of you!â
Seungkwan begins to excitedly converse with Soonyoung, who reciprocates much too eagerly, leaving you to stand awkwardly in front of Vernon. You almost want to bow and leave to the back of the group where the manager is positioned, but the man begins to speak before you can.
âSeungkwanâs a big fan of yours.â He gives a nod to the man, who has retrieved a permanent marker from somewhere and is getting his arm signed by the drummer. âWe like to blast your music during rides. Pretty calming, especially around the mountains during sunset.â
âOh, are you guys bikers?â
Vernon nods. The left side of your mouth lifts at how, instead of ending the gesture, he lets it bounce on for a bitâalmost as if heâs listening to an imaginary beat in his head. âSuper fun stuff. You think you could sign my helmet or something?â
Your heart leaps. Random fan meetings outside of shows werenât new to you, but every time you did get noticed, your entire day was made.
âSure. Hey, Soonyoung, could I borrow that when youâre done?â
The commotion that is Seungkwan begins to die down once signatures are given and pleasantries are exchanged. You have to bite your lip to suppress your laughs; heâs too endearing, rushing around to congratulate everyone on the world tour and comebacks.
When he gets to you, his eyes brighten, and you swear you can see stars twinkling in them even though the sun is happily high up in the sky.
âSairen, Iâve been meaning to get into musicâIâve actually worked on some of my own songs and theyâre all inspired by you!â Seungkwan bashfully admits.
At his confession, you brighten. âThatâs awesome! Could I hear one?â
The man deflates, your lips parting in an âoâ at how easily his entire demeanor changes in the blink of an eye.
âAh⌠I donât have the files on me right nowâŚâ He trails off and fiddles with the collar of his jacket, obviously downcast at the missed opportunity.
âItâs okay,â you smile, reaching out to pat his shoulder. âYou can just message me on Instagram. How does that sound?â
Three things happen at once.
One. Seungkwanâs entire face lights up at your proposal, beginning to shake like a chihuahua without a sweater.
Two. WOOZI gasps.
Three. The managerâs hand flies out to grab your wrist, pulling you away with the strength of ten men, and forcing an âoomf!â out of you quite easily.
The last occurrence takes the longest time and has the largest impact on you, your left wrist stinging slightly from his hold. Seungkwan, now a few feet away from you instead of smack dab in front, backs off in surprise.
âI apologize, but at this time Sairen is not accepting messages on Instagram. Perhaps if you come prepared to one of their shows, they can give you some proper feedback?â
Vernon wraps a comforting arm around his partnerâs shoulders as Seungkwan stammers out an, âO-oh. Thatâs fine! Weâre so sorry for bothering you. Could we get a picture before we go?â
The two bikers hastily leave. Your jaw clenches as the manager turns to you, his condescending stare rendering you frozen in place.
âAre you crazy?â He spits, pulling you towards him.
You cry out; WOOZI takes a threatening step forward, but heâs stopped by Seungcheol. Thereâs fury in his eyes as you give a minuscule shake of your head.
âWhat if they did that stuff with ill intent?â The managerâs breath reeks of the onion from the caprese he got from the cafe. âYouâre not that stupid to just give away your information, are you? Do you not have a PR manager or something?â
Gritting your teeth, you wrench your arm away, rubbing your wrist with a scowl. âItâs Instagram, Carter. My account is managed by Joshua. If you got a problem with me interacting nicely with my fans, take it up with him. Iâm sure heâll have a blast telling you how wrong you are.â
Carter lets out a tch, turning away and beginning to walk ahead of the group. When heâs out of earshot, Soonyoung rushes to you, apologizing profusely. You barely pay him your regards; instead, your eyes catch WOOZIâs, the fire burning in his pupils trailblazing a pathway right through your strong facade.
You turn away.
â
Youâre not entirely sure how you end up here, sitting a few inches away from WOOZI of CH33RS while munching on some potato chips.
Frieren plays out on his laptop screen, propped open awkwardly at the edge of the bed. The singer, clad in a black tee and gym shorts, shifts against the headboard of his bed and clears his throat.
Itâs one of the earlier episodes, where Frieren is looking back on her memories with Himmel. Sheâs going on some monologue about not understanding how good things were until they were gone, and the scene pulls at your heartstrings, making you sigh.
âI can already tell this show is going to be so coming-of-age,â you frown, relaxing slightly and causing the bed to dip. âClassic story of personal growth, spurred on by past memories.â
WOOZI barely reacts to your comments, instead opting to open his palm up to you. Wordlessly, you place a few chips in his hand, which he crunches between his teeth earnestly.
Itâs a while before he speaks. âYou know, I didnât take you for the anime type.â
âSame could go for you,â you dig at him, rolling your eyes. âWho knew the great WOOZI could have interests?â
âHey,â he frowns. âCome on, donât pretend you werenât excited when I brought up Frieren.â
You bark out a laugh. âExcited? More like surprised. Never knew you could willingly give me the time of day, much less start up a conversation about the show I was trying to watch on the car ride home.â
Frieren is yelling something now. You watch in amusement at her and Heiterâs, the partyâs priest, antics.
âYâknow,â you continue. âI even had the impression that you thought you were better than conversing with little olâ me.â
Right. Thatâs how you got here. Memories of the dark insides of the van contrasting with the colorful scenes of Frieren on your screen come flooding back, along with WOOZIâs soft inquiries about how far along you were with the show. Surprisingly, he made for a good conversationalist about the topic, and you remember begrudgingly agreeing to have him join you on your marathon.
Joshua was going to have a field day with this one.
Donât let his friendly demeanor fool you, a voice inside you chides. Remember how he treated you before. Some sappy anime isnât going to change that.
The scene onscreen is violently different than before. Now, Frieren is blinking away tears, covering her face with her arms as her party consoles her. You find yourself mirroring her, self-pity beginning to swallow you whole.
WOOZI is silent again, but this time, you know heâs pondering what to say.
âAh, sorry,â you choke out a laugh. âForget about what I just said. Can we watch this episode another time?â
Youâre reaching for his laptop when he stops you, grabbing your wrist. Unlike Carterâs, WOOZIâs touch is gentle and light, and you shiver at him running his thumb along the ball joint.
âWait.â He inhales. âJust⌠wait.â
And you do, peering through your lashes at him. He drops your arm, drawing in on himself, and lets out another sigh.
âWhen CH33RS first started out,â WOOZI begins. âWe were treated awfully. This was before we met Jeonghan; we had to fight to be given decent practice equipment and fair schedules. It was like our previous company wanted us to go through hell before reaching the top.â
You stay quiet, eyes trained on his fingers reaching to twist with the hoop in his right ear. Itâs on the smaller side and made of black metal, but you think it suits him well.
âThen⌠along came Seokmin.â
âSeokmin?â you echo.
WOOZI nods, though itâs not without a hint of pain. âOur last manager from the previous company. He fought so hard for us. Didnât let any of us get trampled on, and always made sure we knew we were his top priority.â
He leans back on the pillows, black hair billowing out to form a slight halo around his head. You blink down at him, fingers clawing at the mattress and heart being twisted in the worst way possible.
âHe was the one who got us signed with our new company under Jeonghan,â he finishes softly. âIt didnât go over well with the higher-ups, but he took all the blows. Havenât seen him since the big fight when our contract properly ended and we refused to renew.â
The show credits are running as his voice trails off. At this point, one of you would reach over and hit play on the next episode, but now youâre glued to the hotel bed.
âIâm sorry,â you console. âBut⌠this still doesnât answer why you snapped at me the first day.â
The singer throws an arm over his eyes.
âAbout thatâIâm sorry,â WOOZI breathes out. âCanât stand bullshit like that no matter who itâs from, and I didnât realize at the time that the staff member started it. I know it's super late and also probably an incredibly lame apology, but⌠I really admire you and your work, Sairen. I hope the rest of the tour goes well and that we can at least be cordial.â
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you scrunch your face to avoid the giggles threatening to spill out of you. Part of you is annoyed, sure; couldnât the dickhead just have asked you before jumping to conclusions?
But another part of you understandsâthis industry was notorious for wildfire rumors and miscommunication. That, coupled with the stress of being around a bunch of crappy staff members for hours on end, would be enough to drive anyone to the brink of snapping.
âIâm sorry, too,â you offer a bittersweet smile to him. âI get to be kind of an ass when Iâm around people who donât know how to be decent human beings. Kind of backfires on me a lot of the time in this field of work, though.â
To your utmost surprise and increasing delight, WOOZI lets out something between a witchâs cackle and a belly laugh.
He slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, but youâre already grinning from ear to ear, watching his own turn a shade of cherry red.
âWell,â he clears his throat. âGlad we can relate on that part, then. And thank you for the apology.â
You knock your knee against his. âNo problem, rockstar. Hope to be more cordial with you too. Or whatever you said.â
WOOZI raises an eyebrow at you, but you wave him off, turning back to his laptop with a satisfied hum and hitting play.
Your heart feels lighter knowing you can enjoy the rest of the tour without having to walk on eggshells around the people who are supposed to know you best. It makes you wonder just how much youâve missed out on with WOOZI, and how many episodes of Frieren you could be caught up with by now if this hadnât happened.
Oh well, you mumble to yourself, stealing a glance at the man beside you. His face is once again illuminated by the screen, dimly lit yet glowing with an emotion that is hard to put into words. You hope it can be described as contentment.
Frieren is recapping her adventures with the knight of the party, Himmel, and promising to make the most of the time she has left. You turn your attention back to the screen, watching the elf girl finally cave into her heartâs desires.
Better late than never.Â
đ ONTARIO, TORONTO
Your hair is dripping wet when you bumble through the door, Soonyoung and Joshua hot on your heels. The rain outside was never-ending, puddles forming on the ground from your damp clothes as you try to wipe your shoes on the welcome mat. The guys arenât any better; Joshuaâs wringing his hair out as much as he can while Soonyoung shakes himself off like a dog.
A woman behind the front desk peers up at you before smiling brightly. âHello! Are you here for an appointment?â
You dip your head as you approach, taking notice of the womanâs inked skin. Sheâs got a dragonfly drawn across her forearm, the swirls of its wings mesmerizing to your eyes.
âYes, with Minghao?â you tilt your head, sliding your ID across the table. âI really appreciate you taking us in so last minute. Iâve been meaning to get a tattoo at a local place while Iâm traveling.â
âNo problem,â she reassures, checking you in with ease. âWhat prompted you to come to ours, though? Lotsa good ones around these parts.â
You jerk a thumb back at the two wet dogs youâve pulled in from the rain. Soonyoung perks up at your attention and you roll your eyes.
âMy friend back there wanted to get some flowers as congratulations for⌠someone,â you clear your throat, to which Joshua makes a face at. âWe were at the florist across the street yesterday, and he praised you highly.â
âJunhui?â
The new voice makes you look up to see a slender, lean man propping himself against a doorway to another room. He sports a black mullet that shows off the various piercings he has, ranging from a silver hoop through his daith to the metallic rod heâs got going through a flat and his helix. He purses his lips as he takes you in, crossing his tattoo-sleeved arms with intrigue.
âYeah,â you confirm in surprise. âPretty sure his name was Jun, at least. Youâre Minghao?â
He nods. When he speaks again, his voice is slightly tinged with an accentâChinese, you think, listening intently. âSo, youâre the famous Sairen thatâs got this city in an uproar,â he muses, motioning for you to come to the back with him. âIâm guessing the blonde dude is HOSHI from CH33RS, and your manager is the one who looks like heâd rather be anywhere but here.â
At this, you let out a laugh, especially when Joshua bumps your hip with his own.
âYeah, something like that.â
Minghao leads you to a table with various drawings spread out, papers cluttering the surface with ink spilling all over the wood. You sit down without having to be told, in awe over his workspace. Joshua and Soonyoung tell you theyâll be waiting for you outside, and you wave them off with a smile.
âAlright, what were we thinking today?â He takes a seat on the other side of the table and pulls an already-open sketchbook in front of him, uncapping a pen with his teeth. âWhatâs on your mind?â
You begin to describe the design youâve had rattling around in your mind the past few days. Minghao takes your words in stride, slow strokes working faster to conjure up a messy drafted sketch. Itâs easy, conversing with himâheâs straight to the point with his questions, but wonât hesitate to take a moment to linger on an answer he finds interesting. His wit catches you off guard.
âDo you have any other tattoos?â
To his inquiry, you straighten up a bit and pull on the hem on your shirt, revealing a section of your torso. Minghao raises an eyebrow before leaning over the table, his face instantly shifting to one of admiration once he sees the blotches of black.
With wondrous eyes, he hums in satisfaction. âNice. Crescent moon?â
âSupposed to be a claw moon, actually,â you offer softly. âI was born on a night where the moon was so thin it looked like a catâs claw. My momâshe would never stop talking about it when I was younger. Thought it was so cool.â
Then, you walk to his side of the table and lean over to slide down your ankle sock. Right above the ball joint of your left foot is a faded dahlia, the petals worn and just barely crackling at the edges.
âOfficial flower of San Francisco, California.â Your nostalgic tone doesnât go unmissed by the tattoo artist, and he makes a noise of encouragement. âI got it when I was like, sixteen, without my parentsâ permission. Whoops?â
Minghao snorts, angling the lamp onto the patch of artwork with a scrutinizing eye. âGlad you told me it was a dahlia, otherwise I wouldâve thought it was a weirdly puffed up microphone. Or a sex toy.â
You curl your lip in disgust. âOkay, ew. I may be tacky, but not that tacky.â
Pretty soon, the artist is settling you into a more comfy chair, instructing you to raise your thigh so he has a good canvas to work on. The marker he uses to paint your skin tickles, and you tell him such, much to his dismay.
âI hope you arenât going to move as much as this when Iâm actively putting a needle in your skin,â he deadpans, but you only laugh.
Minghaoâs quick, youâll give him that. He lays down the basic outline in only about twenty minutes, give or take, though you suppose it also has to do with how youâve opted for a simpler design.
He tells you about how business has been going for him lately; you make a big deal about how huge the sunflowers were in Junâs shop. Minghao listens with the intensity of a therapist, making light remarks and comments that have you spluttering for an answer.
The next hour is spent lightly bantering with him, and listening to Joshua rattle off your next few schedules after he comes back from his trip to the cafĂŠ down the street. Soonyoung, ever so helpful, chugs a milk tea he got before offering you a sip.
âDude, that tattoo looks fire. Jihoonâs gonna be in shambles.â
Minghao hisses as you promptly stiffen, your eye twitching. The drummer is quick to apologize while you give him your best death glare.
âJihoon, huh?â Minghao clicks his tongue. âWhat, you getting this for him?â
âItâs not like that,â you quickly say. âDonât listen to Soonyoung, heâs being stupid.â
The mentioned man makes a guffaw at this. âYouâre literally getting the Frieren flowers tattooed on you.â
âThey are not just âthe Frieren flowers,ââ you say indignantly. âTheyâre Blue-Moon Weed flowers. Which you would know the context and history of if you watched the anime.â
âMan, whyâd you even ask me to come?â Soonyoung shakes his head good-naturedly. âJihoon wouldâve appreciated the invitation much more than me. Heâs also basically getting to see the bottom half of you nââ
Joshua drags him out of the room before you can release your anger on the drummer. In front of you, on his knees, Minghao mutters something about trying meditation, which you gladly accept.
âThough,â he looks to the ceiling in mock thought. âWhat he said was true. Iâve seen the videos from last nightâs show. If you havenât gotten laid yet, thatâs a mistake on your part.â
Your nose scrunches. Maybe you shouldnât have listened to Jun the florist, after all.
â
WOOZI doesnât react to your new tattoo right away.
Instead, he admires your older ones, questioning why youâve never talked about them before.
To this you respond with a snort. âYouâve never asked, so I never talked.â
He seems to mull your answer over, before giving a sheepish nod.
âTouchĂŠ.â
The bus hits a bump in the road, causing you to wince in pain. You shift in your seat, trying to get into a more comfortable position so as to not lean too harshly on the wound, before returning your focus back to the situation at hand.
This time around, you chose to make do with CH33RS for the ride to the airport, knowing that taking separate cars would only end up making matters more complicated. Joshua, Seungcheol and Jeonghan are upfront, giddy about some new pitch of a show that came out, while Soonyoungâs snoring away a few seats behind them.
How you all have gotten so close in such a short amount of time will never fail to amaze you, but you wouldnât have it any other way.
âThat reminds me,â you turn to face WOOZI again; the singer raises a single eyebrow at your words. âYouâve never shown me your tattoos before.â
He pauses in untangling his wired earbuds, apt fingers twisting the cords and making your stomach drop just slightly. WOOZI meets your gaze head-on, a challenge in his expression.
You swallow and muster the courage to look him in the eye. Itâs not the first time heâs been the leading cause of the pleasing prickle of your arm hairs, but every time he is, you feel like you lose five years off your lifespan.
âGuess youâll just have to see them for yourself,â he says smugly, before barely dodging your oncoming slap to his shoulder with a loud laugh.
đ NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The East Coast is violently different from what youâre used to.
You fidget with your tank top, fanning yourself. The air conditioner was on full blast, but you still found your throat thick with heat, hydrating every chance you could get. You missed San Francisco.
Sure, the wind could get violent there, but the air itself was never as full as it was here. The humidity was awful, especially when smoke surged from sewer plates every five feet and clogged up the environment.
âMaybe because weâre more up north, where a bunch more cities are?â He had offered as an explanation. You raised an eyebrow full of judgement.
Oh, well, you muse. At least it gave you another justification for constantly wearing shorts other than to not irritate your tattoo. You had admired it this morning in the mirror of your bedroom, the early sunâs rays through the window causing the ink to appear quite nicely.
The flowers were healing well; you had marveled at Minghaoâs handiwork, twirling stems lacing together before exploding into bundles of petals. While you wished it could have been colored the famous blue color that gave it its name, you had opted for leaving it as an outline, and you didnât regret it.
Now, you sit and wait for the pizza to arrive, cozy on the couch of the suite you were given. Jeonghan had charmed his way into having the hotel grant you and CH33RS a proper penthouse for your stay in New York.
Soonyoung wanted to explore the area, gushing about how heâd only ever heard stories of the city from when he was younger, and Seungcheol was close behind in his agreement. Tired from your show the night before and having visited NYC before, you had opted to stay behind to rest.
However, Jeonghan and your manager promised the former two a day full of sightseeing and good food, and they were sold, letting out hoots of joy in following them out the door.
WOOZI, like you, was adamant about staying in the suite. The man was full of surprises, it seemed.
Your name is called faintly from the foyer. Rising to stand, your slippers scuff along the wood as you pad to the source of the sound and take a peek around the corner.
There he stands, baseball cap on with compression sleeves fit snugly along his calves. The sight almost makes you sigh in pleasure. Almost.
âIâm going to go out for a run,â WOOZI says. âIâll be back in like, thirty minutes or so. Just a few blocks down and then Iâll turn around.â
Youâre not sure why heâs telling you this. Youâre also not sure why your feet carry you to stand in front of him.
Both happen anyways, and in the end, you muster up a hesitant, hopeful smile at him. âAlright. Be safe.â
He pauses, just slightly, and for a second you almost fool yourself into believing heâll give you a kiss on the forehead.
You wonder how his lips would feelâsmooth, like the petals of a magnolia from the tree in your childhood backyard? Or perhaps a little chapped and roughened, like the strawflowers you saw back in Junâs flower shop?
What the fuck? You immediately gawk at yourself. What the hell were those thoughts?
The silence drags on impossibly long, turning into an awkward pause youâre not too confident you can break. Thankfully, the singer clears his throat, and you startle.
âSave some pizza for me,â WOOZI finishes, giving you a firm nod.
A part of you deflates. Right, of courseâWOOZI was professional above all else. And up until recently, the two of you had been nothing more than flies on the wall to each other.
To hide your disappointment, you scoff and nudge him playfully, twirling around and throwing a wink over your shoulder.
âThen be back soon,â you stick your tongue out at him. âDonât keep me waiting!â
â
WOOZI comes back right when youâre about to dig into the pizzaâthe cheese hits the roof of your mouth, actually, as you hear the door click open.
âPizzaâs ready and hot,â you call out to him, and you get a muted grunt and some shuffling in response.
Heâs panting lightly as he walks over to you and plops down on the floor, right at the foot of the couch. You study how his hair parts slightly to the side and is matted from being suffocated under his hat.
âGood run?â You ask, chewing through a bite of pizza.
The man turns his head, his gaze dropping to the new tattoo lining your thigh before rising to your lips. A part of you wants to ask his thoughts on the design, but his fixed stare makes your breath hitch.
You must have something on your face, you realize, and dart your tongue out to catch whatever crumbs have to be on the side of your mouth.
He tears his eyes away. âYeah, but the city stinks of sewage.â
WOOZI grabs a slice of pepperoni and begins to scarf it down, focusing his attention to the episode of Frieren youâve got pulled up.
âHey, werenât we supposed to watch this episode together?â He complains, and if you didnât know any better, you can almost swear heâs pouting.
âYou took too long.â You hide a smile behind the last of the crust youâve got in your hand. âI told you to hurry back and not keep me waiting.â
He huffs. âI did.â
Something about his intonation has you pausing. Your eyes flit to his comfortable position against the couch and your lax posture across the cushions.
On the coffee table sits two cups and a plaque of napkins. He had brought a cup of water for you from the kitchen, and you had made sure to ask for extra napkins from the delivery man so it would be enough for the two of you. You blink in surprise at the revelation.
When did domesticity become second nature with him?
Itâs like youâre hit with a bullet of clarity, the aftershock radiating through your system one bone at a time. WOOZI, as if noticing your silence, casts another glance back at you and holds your gaze.
He has a mole under his right eye. This, you notice, and you notice well. The explosion of feelings only further seethes under your skin, roaring to be let out through words.
Nothing leaves your mouth, though.
You let the shockwaves pulse through you until they simmer down to something calmer, as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. Uncharacteristically, you swallow down the words bubbling up in your throat. WOOZI takes another bite of pizza.Â
And of course, the show goes on.
â
Itâs well past four in the afternoon when you perk up and roll over, resting your cheek on the couch cushion and insistently poking WOOZI with your foot. Frieren is long paused on the TV screen, and youâre careful to not rest too much of your weight on your thigh.
âHey, hey. Wake up.â
Half-asleep and slumped over a pillow, he hums in response, shifting away slightly. From your position on the couch, the glint of his single lobe piercing glares blatantly in your eyes, furthering the newfound determination thrumming beneath your skin.
âCrazy idea, but what if we got our noses pierced together?â
The manâs mouth moves in a mumble, clearly giving his response no thought. âMmm. Sure.â
Without thinking, you tumble towards him, letting your arms find home around his neck. WOOZI stiffens, finally jerking awake and glaring at you. You grin back, trying not to seem unaffected by your instinctive action, and release your hold.
âReally? Okay, get ready then!â
A small, huh?, leaves his lips, but youâre already up and disappearing into your bedroom. He scrambles after you, but you leave him dumbstruck outside your door, his heart throwing itself against his ribcage and cheeks flushed red.
â
âA nose piercing?â you can practically feel his disapproval as you tug him towards the shop; itâs sundown, and golden hour sets his black hair on fire in a way that has you covering your eyes from the shine. âYou, want me, to get a nose piercing with you?â
âYou heard me the first time,â you reply nonchalantly, as if this were an everyday occurrence. âAnd I mean, who else if not you?â
The bell above the door jingles in greeting as you step through the doorway. You barely did any research of the surrounding area; your impulsivity left you walking into the first piercing shop near your hotel that had the flickering OPEN sign outside.
âYour tattoo is still healing,â he points out to you. âShouldnât you be resting before damaging your body even more?â
Though his words are rough, WOOZI still hasnât let go of your hand, thumb running along yours as if it was nothing but a subconscious thought. You flush and pull away to grant yourself some dignity back. When did he think it was alright to touch you?
âItâs been a few days and I have high pain tolerance,â you shrug, before turning to the man at the counter. âHi! Sorry to bother, but do you take walk-ins?â
WOOZI stares in wonder as you navigate through an impromptu conversation with ease. Sure, youâve been cordial with him up to now, and even friendly enough to joke, but today has been something else entirely.
The person in front of him is nothing like the Sairen he knew from the media or interactions with staff; unlike before, where you would barely give him the time of day, you are now within arms reach. You are tolerable. Tangible. Holdable.
He rids himself of those preposterous thoughts and joins you at the counter.
You beam up at the man behind the desk with your best smile. Heâs got cropped black hair and an equally cropped black shirt that shows off a belly button piercing, and the vertical labret he dons is nothing short of captivating. You watch as he scribbles something down on a piece of paper and excuses himself to the back, waving him off with a, itâs okay, take your time!
âWhen did you get so friendly?â WOOZI taunts, nudging you with his foot.
Your eyes are going to pop out of your sockets from how much youâre rolling them to the back of your head. âIâve always been friendly. Youâve just been too unfriendly to notice.â
He opens his mouth to argue, but the staff member comes back, flashing the two of you a bright smile.
âWonwoo will take care of ya in the second room on the left.â He gives you in particular a wink, to which you giggle at.
Thereâs a bad taste in WOOZIâs mouth. He hmphsâthere mustâve been onions in the pizza, or something.
Wonwoo, thankfully, seems to be the complete opposite from his coworker. Wearing a simple sleeveless white tank and pierced with eyebrow studs, he stands up from his seat on a stool at your entrance.
You greet him with a polite hello, but the manâs eyes flicker to you for barely a moment before merely dipping his head in acknowledgement. Instead of starting up conversation, he brings the two of you over to a small glass display of studs.
âWhoever picks first can go first,â is all he says before disappearing off to who-knows-where, leaving you two in front of the display alone.
Instantly, your eyes are drawn to a silver star stud. Itâs simple and serves its purpose as an easy sleeper piercing as well. Nudging the man next to you, you point it out with a smile, automatically leaning into him when his arm brushes yours a second time.
âThis one would be cool, what dâya think?â
WOOZI looms over the display, peering intently at the one your pointer finger is hovering over. From his position, you can easily trace the vein in his neck that snakes past the collar of his jacket, leading all the way down to the ones that bulge from his forearms. He presses his lips together in thought.
Standing up straighter, he gives a small nod. âYeah, I like it.â
Wonwoo comes back a moment later, hands already gloved and holding a small kit of something in his hand. He lifts his head towards the stool, as if surprised that neither of you are sitting on it yet. âDid either of you choose one?â
âOh! Yes, sorry,â you hurriedly show him the piercing, and he rummages around for a fresh stud.
The alcohol is cold on your nose. You have to stop yourself from wrinkling it as Wonwoo marks a dot right at the curve of your nostril. He steps back, gesturing for WOOZI to take a look.
âLook good to you?â Heâs asking, but WOOZIâs eyes are already fixated on you.
Slowly, the guitarist nods, eyeing you up and down. It makes you squirm in your seat.
âYeah. Looks good.â
Wonwoo instructs you to keep as still as possible, prepping the piercing needle with experience only a professional piercer could provide. Eyes flickering to the side, you take comfort in the sight of WOOZI, hair tousled and leisurely blinking at you with his hands in his pockets. He reminds you of a cat watching their owner do mundane tasks.
You hold your breath as you feel the needle go through your skin, before being quickly pulled out. It stings and you bite the inside of your lip. Air rushes through your lungs, wanting to tumble out of you, and Wonwoo successfully slots the star stud in with a satisfied hum.
âNice work,â he compliments; youâre not sure if heâs talking about you or him, but you thank him anyway, stepping off the chair and making sure to be mindful of your tattoo.
Heâs turning to WOOZI before you realize it, and your eyes widen in surprise.
âOh, shit, Iâm so sorry WOOZI I forgot to help yââ
But the singer is shaking his head, nodding casually to Wonwoo with all the nonchalance in the world. âIâll have the same stud as them. Same place, too.â
Your jaw is on the floor for the whopping two minutes it takes for WOOZI to get his nose pierced. He watches you with amusement the entire time, eyes following your furrowing brows and flushing cheeks.
âWhat?â He smirks as the two of you leave the room, bidding Wonwoo a goodbye; the man just gives another nod. âDidnât expect me to get the same one as you?â
âYouâŚâ You grit your teeth. You want to yell at him to stop playing with your feelingsâitâs a dangerous thing, to play with fire. âYou are such a copycat.â
WOOZI only shrugs. âI didnât feel like looking at the display again and I liked your choice. Whatâs wrong with that?â
Everything, you want to confess. Everything, because it gives me stupid hope for something thatâs never going to happen.
The man at the counter brightens at your reemergence. You offer a shy wave, and out of the corner of your eye, you see WOOZIâs mouth press into a thin line.
âYour piercing turned out well,â the man saysâitâs pointedly towards you, his eyes never leaving your face. âI like the star you chose.â
âThank you, Wonwoo did a great job,â you manage a nod. He was welcoming at first, but the way heâs looking at you now reminds you of the journalists who crowd you after a social event.
Thinking the conversation is over, you give him one last smile and turn towards the door. WOOZI seems eager to leave; heâs already five steps ahead of you, holding the wooden door open.
âOh, um,â the man clears his throat loudly, and you half-turn, giving him a quizzical look. âI was thinking⌠maybe we could grab dinnââ
âMingyu.â Wonwoo seems to appear out of nowhere, a broom in his hand. âWe need to start cleaning up. Donât tell me youâve forgotten youâre on the closing shift already?â
His stern voice makes you nervous; did you do something wrong?
The newly named Mingyu grumbles out an okay, sending you an apologetic smile before grabbing the broom and disappearing into the back. Wonwoo turns to you and WOOZI again, giving you two a final nod, though for some reason you feel like it isnât exactly directed towards you.
âCâmon, letâs go,â WOOZIâs voice is rough, and it reminds you of your relationship with him early on: cold, and purely business. âItâs getting late.â
With what feels like no other choice, you follow him out the door and let the bell chime in farewell.
â
Strangely enough, the guys arenât there yet when you come back to the suite.
The emptiness of the penthouse almost scares you. Youâre not used to the stillness of a place, more attuned to the bustling of backstage prep and the liveliness of concerts. Slipping off your shoes, you make your way back to the living room, collapsing on the couch.
âCareful of your tattoo,â comes WOOZIâs belated reproach as the lights flicker on.
You groan and try to hide the burning sensation that rises in your leg. âWhat are you, my dad?â
He slides in next to you effortlessly, clicking on the remote to connect his phone to the TV like he had earlier in the afternoon. âNo, but itâs clear that you need parental supervision at all times,â he remarks, his knees spreading slightly apart.
You do your best to keep your eyes on the TV screen when his leg presses lightly to yours. âI do not need parental supervision.â
âFirst the tattoo in Toronto, and now the nose piercing in New York.â WOOZI raises an eyebrow at you, and you feel caught red-handed, like a fly in a spiderâs trap. âWhat next? Cutting and dying your hair in D.C.?â
âCome on,â you drawl, landing a soft smack on his shoulder. âWhereâs your joy? Your whimsy? We all need to have fun sometimes!â
WOOZI scoffs.
âOh yeah, I bet it was real fun flirting with the piercer,â he mutters under his breath.
Thereâs a pregnant pause. WOOZI stiffens and brings a hand up to his lips, as if, by doing so, he could stop the words that have already poured out. Youâre equally as shocked, frozen in place at what now hangs in the air between you two.
Huh?
Trying to break the tension, you laugh nervously, heart pounding in your chest. âFirst you act like my dad, then you act like my jealous lover. Pick a struggle, dude.â
Another pause, and then WOOZI huffs. Puts the remote down.
He doesnât say anythingâinstead, WOOZI leans in impossibly close to your face, studying the colors of your eyes with such intensity it has you blushing.
âYou know what? Why donât you pick for me, rockstar?â He challenges, breath mingling with yours. It smells like the Coke Zero you two shared earlier.
You swallow, lips parting ever so slightly with no sound coming out. WOOZI takes this chance to drag his fingers down your leg that doesnât have the new tattoo on it, his touch sending your thoughts into a crazy whirlwind. A soft, high-pitched whine leaves your throat, and he lets out a heavy sigh in response.
Noses touching, your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, whispering his name. WOOZI stills.
âCall me Jihoon,â he murmurs, and the care thatâs packaged into his voice is swallowed by your lips as you gulp again. âJust Jihoon.â
Jihoon. Biting your lip, you feel emboldened by his actions, as if heâs got you under a spell only he can undo.
âAlright, Jihoon,â you place your own hand on his knee, drawing circles on his skin; he shudders in the most delicious way, and you file it away in your brain for later. âHow about this? You kiss me, and you might just find out the answer to that question.â
He tsks in response, lips brushing yours.
âWeâre home!â
Soonyoungâs echoing shout has the two of you scrambling away from one another, ending up on opposite sides of the couch. You wince from the pressure on your thigh, quickly using it as an excuse to bury your burning face in your arms and knees.
âWhoaâhey, Seungcheol, check this out! Jihoon got a nose piercing!â
You hear the drummer barrel into the living room, excitedly chattering in Korean, as a warm hand lands on your shoulder. Yelping, you raise your head to meet Joshuaâs concerned glance.
âHey, you alright? Did you hit your leg?â He asks worriedly, eyes searching yours.
Vigorously shaking your head, you rise with a wobble in your step. âNo, Iâm fine,â you squeak out. âJust really tired from today.â
The glint of the light must catch your stud, because Joshua lets out a laugh of disbelief. âYeah? Tired from going out and getting a nose piercing?â
âWhat? You got one too?â Soonyoung bends down to try and get a glimpse. âLet me see! Aww, I canât believe you two went without me!â
You finally get your friend off your back with the promise of getting another piercing with him before the tour ends, to which he immediately lights up at. Heâs off to the kitchen where you can hear Jeonghan putting leftovers from the day away, no doubt accompanied by Seungcheol.
It leaves you with Jihoon and Joshua in the living room; the former is awkwardly inspecting the couch for lint as your manager worries over you once more.
âJoshua, I said Iâm fine, honestly,â you smile tiredly, stomach doing a flip at Jihoonâs glance your way. âI think I just need some rest. Tell me all about your adventures tomorrow, âkay?â
Reluctantly, the doe-eyed man lets you go, and you trudge back to your room to get ready for bed. The bathroom is a quick trip, not wanting to chance running into Jihoon again, and before you know it, youâre buried under the covers.
You can still feel the warmth of Jihoonâs hand on yours, and the sweltering heat of his eyes on your lips. It makes you jostle uncomfortably under your blanket.
Call me Jihoon. Just Jihoon.
His voice fades to white noise, and you find yourself succumbing to sleep, uncertain of whether you wish for a dream tonight or not.
đ WASHINGTON, D.C.
âI canât hear you, D.C.!â
You lean against a pillar in the back of the venue, lips curved in a smile at Jihoonâs shout into the mic. The crowd thunders with applause and cheers, and from your vantage point you squint to see Seungcheol take his in-ears out, cupping the side of his face with one hand and gesturing to keep the screams coming.
Curious to get a different view, Joshua had allowed you to sneak to the very back of the venue, where the sound mechanics were handled. You were perched right on the edge of the outer balcony, hood and sunglasses obstructing the view of yourself from onlookers.
Jihoon starts jumping on stage again, his iconic boots thumping against the plywood. Enjoying your disguise, you take this chance to drink in his loosened tie and the flex of his biceps as he engages with the front row.
Heâs beguiling, face so round and cheeky compared to the hard and chiseled statue of his body. Dangerously, you see his tongue loll out as he adjusts the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the two top ones and giving a boyish grin to the crowd.
Cheeks flaring with desire, you look away, focusing on Seungcheol beginning to arch his hands up in time with the rhythm of the next song.
No wonder CH33RS was so renowned for their crowdwork; their energy was marvelous, no doubt wrecking the eardrums of any bystanders nearby the venue. You clap along to the beat that Soonyoungâs drum as they launch into their last and one of their most popular songs, 505.
Stop, and wait a secâ
Oh, when you look at me like that, my darling
What did you expect?
Iâd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
Or I did, last time I checked
Leaning on the balcony, you nibble on your thumbnail. You donât know where to look: thereâs Seungcheolâs focused lip bite, his mop of hair swaying to the beat as his fingers work the bass heâs got; or maybe Soonyoungâs energetic trills, twirling his drumsticks in the air as a show for the crowd.
âD.C., sing it with me!â encourages Jihoon.
Ah. Your eyes find their target, sweating and panting and oh-so-captivating. You sigh longingly, the pit in your stomach flickering to life. He gestures for his fans to get louder, curling his fingers in time with the music, as their chants grow.
Thenâhe finds you.
You donât know how he does, but he stares right through to soul, offering you a nod when your fingers flit in a small wave.
From your point on the balcony, you watch Jihoonâs face glow under the stage lights. His eyes are crescents, reminding you of the claw moon etched into your torso right below your heart. Voice low and gravelly, Jihoon begins to sing again, eyes never leaving yours.
âIâm going back to 505, if itâs a seven-hour flight or a forty-five minute drive,â you murmur along breathlessly; Jihoon mimics your expression.
Your legs feel like jelly as he hones in on the next sentenceâthe beat slows down, and Seungcheol opts for only plucking the mandatory strings for the bassine. Jihoonâs eyelashes flutter as he ends the pre-bridge, staring straight at where youâre stationed with dark eyes.
âIn my imagination, youâre waiting lying on your side,â he sighs, âWith your hands between your thighs.â
For a second, time slows down. The swirling pit in your abdomen screams to be let loose, and if he were to do anything more, you greatly feared for your remaining sanity.
Taking a breath, Jihoon wrenches his gaze from yours and clenches his fist to his chest, as if it physically pains him to do so.
But I crumble completely when you cry
It seems like once again,
You have to greet me with goodbye
Iâm always just about to go and spoil a surprise
Take my hands off your eyes too soon
Youâre incapable of watching anymore. Sinking to your knees, the air in your lungs comes out in harsh pants, sweat dripping down your chin and landing on your exposed thigh.
The Blue-Moon Weed flowers peek out from below your shorts, and you draw a shuddering breath thatâs easily drowned out from the screams of the audience.
Lee Jihoon, what have you done to me?
â
The alcohol burns in your throat.
You tip back your head again for yet another shot, the yogurt-flavored soju tasting enticingly sweet on your tongue. Soonyoung claps your back from next to you.
âYouâre getting good at taking it!â
He⌠must not know what heâs saying anymore, you think as you choke on the liquid from his words. Dirty images flash through your mind, horrifying you to no end.
Youâre handed a napkin from somewhere that you gratefully take, wiping the dribbling fluid thatâs escaping down the column of your neck. âWatch it,â Jihoon mumbles into your ear. âDonât want you being rendered too speechless during our tour.â
Jumping in your seat, you murmur a slurring apology, face burning when he hands you another napkin. You can barely make out Joshua from across the table raising a delicate eyebrow in your direction.
Without warning, you reach across the table and give him a hard smack to his shoulder, taking pride in the way he lets out a sound of indignance.
âItâs not what it looks like!â You pout. âStop⌠Stop doing that!â
âI didnât even say anything,â heâs laughing, and Jeonghanâs leaning into him with a giggle. âWhat did I do?â
The blonde manager angles his head towards you. Your cheeks puff up as your lips press together, clearly dissatisfied, as Jeonghan speaks like heâs talking to a childâwhich he is not.
âSairen, honey.â You blink drowsily at his cheeky grin. âWhatâs your tolerance for alcohol?â
âGood,â you blurt out. âItâs good.â
Laughter crows from your friends around the table. Seungcheol has his mouth latched onto Jeonghanâs shoulder in a bite, burying his laughter underneath sharp teeth and a wide smile.
Biting. You want to do that, too.
Your teeth land sloppily on the shoulder beside you, the taste of skin flooding your senses. Soonyoung has a nice shoulder. Humming, you dig your teeth in just a little more, enjoying the sensation that comes with your love bite. The drummer wouldnât mind another one, right?
âOh-kay,â Jihoon splutters, pushing you away from his bare shoulder lightly; you admire the marks left by your canines with a lopsided smile as Jeonghan cackles in the background. âI think youâve had enough alcohol for the night. Come on, letâs get you to bed.â
âNo!â You whine, and now heâs pulling you to your feet, easily hooking an arm around your waist. âWait, I donât wanna goâŚâ
It takes a few minutes, but you do end up in your bed, bottom lip jutted out in a pout as youâre tucked into your sheets by a messy-haired Jihoon. Itâs clear the alcoholâs getting to him too, apples of his cheeks red and eyes glossy. You reach out to touch his forehead and brush a strand out of his face.
âPretty,â you mutter.
Jihoon lets out a sighâitâs heavy, burdened by something that rests on his conscience, and you drop your hand onto the cool comforter. He hangs his head low, not looking at you anymore. You miss his eyes.
You decide to try your luck again. âJihoon.â
While the man doesnât raise his face to meet yours, he does make a noise to let you know heâs heard you. Carefully bringing your hand to his head again, you card your fingers through his hair, basking in the long, slow intake of breath he gives in response.
Thereâs a bite mark in his shoulder. You study it, eyes narrowing. Did Soonyoung bite him earlier?
âDid you mean it?â He asks suddenly.
Your lips part, tongue swiping along your bottom lip. âMean what?â
âWhat you said. Back in New York. Did you mean it?â
Blurry images of your face pressed to his come rushing back, and you let out a whine. âOf course I meant it, stupid. I wanted you to kiss me so bad!â
Jihoon says nothing. You, inebriated as ever, take this as a sign to continue your tangent. âAnd then you pulled that⌠that stunt at your show tonight. I was already going fucking crazy from the tension between us after New York, but youâyou kept being a tease! Do you not remember what happened on the bus? And now here you are, in front of me, and all I wanna do isâŚâ
Your impudent speech tapers off into silence. Jihoonâs finally looking at you, really looking at you, his eyes glassier than before. You cradle his face in the palm of your hand, thumb careful to not disturb his still-healing nose stud. The bejeweled star gleams in the light of your bedside lamp.
Ever so attentively, you bring his lips to rest just against yours, craving for the now familiar feeling of your breath mixing with his. This time, it smells faintly of the citron soju he was nursing in the living room of the suite.
Does he taste the same? You wonder, and lean closer to find out.
âWaitââ Jihoon gasps, your name falling off his tongue in a plea that has your knees weak again. âWait, we canât. We canât.â
Heâs got his hand pressed against your lips and your wrist captured in the other. The two of you are breathing heavily, even though nothing has happened, and a part of you shatters.
âWhaddaya mean we canât?â You frown, already small voice muffled further by his fingersâyou give a tentative bite to his palm, and Jihoon yanks his hand away from your mouth like heâs been burned.
Shifting in bed, you reach for him again, but Jihoon is shaking his head violently. His brown eyes, usually so warm, are instead blown out with widened pupils.
âIâwe canât,â he repeats, standing up in a hurry. âNot like this. Not right now.â
âWait, Jihoonâ!â
âPlease.â Heâs at the door to your bedroom, forehead knocking against the wood. Jihoon takes another quivering breath, and you watch his whole body shake at the gesture. âJust⌠get some rest. Iâll see you in the morning, okay?â
Thereâs some more mumbling from him; curses, you realize too late, and then heâs gone. The door clicks shut behind him and youâre left with nothing but the buzz of the air conditioner and your thoughts.
A part of you wants to stumble to your feet and crawl to him, begging for him to come back and explain himself. Another part of you wants to scream like a child throwing a tantrum, tears threatening to spill over your lashline.
âJihoon,â you whimper into the darkness, lamp clicking off automatically from no movement sensed. âDid I do something wrong?â
âDo you not want me as much as I want you?â
đ ORLANDO, FLORIDA
In the days following that night, Jihoonâs been ignoring you.
You thought it was just your imagination at first; maybe he was just busy with the next upcoming show, you reasoned, shrugging your shoulders as he gave another lame excuse for not being able to watch the next Frieren episode with you. The amazing show at D.C. caused yet another uproar, Orlando and Atlanta selling out soon after videos started circulating.
But then one Frieren episode turned to two, and two turned to three, until he was a whole arc behind you. The last episode you had watched together had been the one in New York, where Frieren counseled Fern and Stark on their relationship. You remember huffing in disbelief at the main character finding out the real meaning of the mirrored lotus, and what that entailed about Himmelâs feelings for her.
âI canât believe it. He loved her so much, yet was so content with just staying by her side,â you lamented, your back hitting the couch with a thud. âHe was so selfless about that shit. Even until the end.â
Jihoon had eyed your complaining from his newfound position across from you, knee bent at an angle to be able to brush against your thigh. He just shook his head, the credits rolling, and shrugged.
âAnything to be by her side.â
Back then, you had rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time at him, griping that he was much more of a sap than he let on.
Now, his words linger in your head as you stare at the news headline, Soonyoung worriedly trying to snap you out of your daze.
New Foreign Love? WOOZI, Lead Singer & Guitarist of CH33RS, Seen Embracing Anonymous Person Last Night at Mangoâs Club in Orlando, Florida!
âHey, you know how people get about the media,â he tries to console. âIt probably wasnât even him. We get into dumb scandals all the time, andââ
âSoonyoung.â Your grim tone makes him flinch. âWhat happened that night?â
âThat night?â He recites, thinking hard for a moment. âOh! Do you mean last night? Donât listen to Seungcheol, he doesnât know what heâs talking about with billiardsââ
You sigh. âNo, Soonyoung. The night we all got drunk in D.C. What happened?â
âOoooohh.â Soonyoung lets the note drag on, his vibrato reverberating through the dressing room youâre in. âThat night!â
Yes, you want to groan, mentally slapping your forehead. Memories were nonsensical from that nightâall you remember was biting someoneâs shoulder and then being dragged to your room, feeling incredibly down about it.
You chalked it off the next day as silly drunk antics, as everyoneâsave for Jihoon, who said he wasnât feeling well that dayâwas acting normal around you.
But now? After gathering the evidence of ignorance, and seeing this headline? Your heart hammers with fear of the unknown, and you have to do a breathing exercise for a second before youâre able to respond.
âWhat happened?â You ask again, more firmly this time.
The drummer scratches the back of his neck, eyebrows squeezing in thought. â...I dunno. We were all drunk and stuff. Jeonghan was teasing you a lot for your low tolerance, and Jihoon took you to your room right after.â
Slumping, you wrack your brain, trying to fragment some semblance of what could have happened that night. Maybe you had embarrassed yourself by letting out a particularly gut-wrenching burp? Or, perhaps, you had disclosed something incredibly personal to him, and he felt awkward about it?
But nothing was brought up. Frustration laces your thoughts and makes itself comfortable in your heart, throwing its arms up in the air with a sigh. Surely he wouldâve talked to you if you did anything embarrassing, right?
Or, maybe, your anxiety murmurs, heâs so disgusted by you he doesnât even want to bring it up.
Burying your head in your hands, you will the feelings away, trembling with emotion. Soonyoung, put off by your desolate state, rubs a comforting hand in circles along your back.
âIâm sure itâll all blow over,â he reasons. âAnd Jihoon will come around. Iâm sure of it.â
Not even half a second later, the mentioned man pushes the dressing room door open. You donât catch it, too entangled in your woes, but Jihoon takes a sharp inhale at the sight of his bandmate comforting you in such an intimate manner.
âSoonyoung,â Jihoon rasps, and you involuntarily stiffen at the sound of his voice. âWeâre needed soon for pre-show photos.â
Soonyoung mutters that heâll be there soon. Turning your head, you meet Jihoonâs eyes, hope flaring in your chest when he hesitates at the door.
âSeungcheol and I will be waiting in the stairwell. See you then.â He takes a step back and lets the door shut, the wood creaking for a moment in protest before ultimately giving in.
You let out a long, resigned sigh, tears welling up in the back of your throat.
âIâm sorry,â Soonyoung mumbles your name, and you look at him with what you hope is a grateful smile; by the expression on his face, itâs far from one. âI promise, heâll come around. Maybe he just needs some space. Talk to you in a little, okay? Drink some water.â
He abandons you then, draped over the arm of the couch with a tissue box and half-empty bottle of water. Your sniffles are quiet in contrast to the loud cheering from outsideâitâs definitely Soonyoung trying to lift the mood.
Maybe he just needs some space. The words, empty with promise, ring in your head.
Space your ass. Your jaw clenches. Jihoon should know better than to hide from communication with youâitâs what had you two at each otherâs throats in the first place.
Right then and there, against better judgement, you make a decision. Tonight you would confront Lee Jihoon, WOOZI of CH33RS, and you would do it scared to absolute death.
â
You find Jihoon in your dressing room after the opening show, tinkering with the make-up products on your vanity.
He mustâve just gotten out of his own last-minute touch ups, the red eyeliner making those half-crescents you like to stare at so much become just that much more endearing. Jihoon adjusts the leather jacket heâs wearing, fiddling with the pocketâs button, before finally glancing up at you.
He speaks your name, sweet and soft and everything you could ever hope for.
âDid the show go⌠well?â Jihoon scans your figure as you make a beeline for the vanity, pushing past him and grabbing your water bottle. âYouâre shaking.â
âShow went well,â you reply curtly; the water easily goes down your throat, and you welcome it, using it as an excuse to not talk to the man beside you just yet.
âListen, I⌠wanted to explainââ
âLook, Jihoon.â You bring the bottle down from your lips, fixing him in place with a long look. âIf itâs about the scandal, forget it. I need to talk to you about something more importantâdid I do something wrong?â
Jihoon blinks, lips parted in an âoâ. âNo?â
So he was brushing you off for the fun of it. Cool. The feelings of frustration and anxiety come flying back at the speed of light, smashing into you with such concentrated strength you end up crushing the plastic water bottle in your hand. Jihoonâs eyes flicker between you and the bottle in fear.
Good, you think. That makes two of us scared right now.
âGreat, awesome,â you manage with a terse nod. âHave a good show, then.â
You make a move to leave, but thereâs that familiar warmth around your wrist again, and youâre jerked back by Jihoonâs nimble fingers. Heâs pleading your name, andâ
WaitâI... we canât.
Gasping, you snatch your hand away, stumbling back with your head whirling.
We canât. Not like this. Not right now.
Please, just⌠get some rest. Iâll see you in the morning, okay?
Wait, Jihoonâ!
Your lower back meets the couch, and you gawk at him, hurt slowly fanning out in your expression to reach even the tremors of your pinkie fingers.
âYouâyou stopped me that night. From kissing you. Didnât you?â
Jihoon lets out a tch.
While he doesnât give a verbal answer, his face says everything as he rips his eyes away from you and runs an agitated hand through his black locks.
âYou stopped meâwhy? Was I not good enough for you? Is that why?â You cry out, fists shaking at your sides. âDid you realize at that moment that you didnât want me? Is that why you ended up hooking up with someone from the club?â
âThatâs notââ Jihoon clenches his jaw. âThatâs not why I did that.â
And though his words are supposed to comfort, they instead overwhelm, the confirmation of the scandal looming over you like a taunt.
âSo you did hook up with someone,â you say slowly, betrayal etched into your features.
Heâs reaching for you, arm outstretched and eyes as glassy as the night he stopped you from kissing him. âGod, okay, let me just explainââ
âWhat? Did you need a new lover, or something?â
It comes out much harsher than you intend. You watch as Jihoonâs arm falls and silence engulfs the two of you once more, save for your labored breathing and the squeaking of his boots on the floor when he shifts.
âJust⌠just for Orlando,â he mumbles, dropping his head.
You let out an incredulous laugh. âJust for Orlando?â You echo, disbelief written across all your features. âWhat, so youâre going to find someone new for Atlanta, too? Houston, even Los Angeles?â
He says nothing.
A knock comes at the door. The two of you stand still as statues as a staff member pokes their head in. If they heard anything, they donât show it, sparing you only a glance before calling out to Jihoon.
âStage in ten!â
The door closes as fast as they had opened it, the wood giving no resistance this time. You think Jihoonâs going to say something, but as heâs quite loved to do during the time heâs known you, he surprises you once again by simply making his way towards the exit.
You canât tell if you want to laugh or cry.
He passes you, intentionally making sure to not even have his jacket brush yours, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
âSo thatâs it.â Your voice cracks on the last syllable and you hate it.
Jihoon stops in his tracks. His back is to you now, but you turn to watch the rise and inescapable fall of his broad shoulders. If you look closely, you can see the new silver hoops you had helped him pick out at a random flea market on the road.
âIs that all I was to you? Is that all I am to you?â You clamp your fists together, thumbs pressing on your knuckles until they pale. âJust aâjust some event that happened to you that you can then make your own dumb conclusions based off of?â
He doesnât say anything againâyou wished he would. The words canât stop spilling from your lips, like a cup thatâs been left uncared for too long under a fountain.
Your impulsivity will be the death of you.
âIâm not a tour date, WOOZI,â you spit. âIâm not just some random location you can think of and go, Oh, right, I visited that place. Iâm a person too. I have feelings. I thought you wouldâve known that by now, with those stupid memories we shared. I guess I was wrong.â
WOOZIâs low, grainy voice reaches your ears a moment too late. âThatâs not what Iâm trying to doââ
Crash!
Wrapped up in your emotions, you had forgotten that you were right next to your vanity, your elbow knocking off a jar of perfume. The delicate, rose-colored pieces of glass now lay shattered on the floor, a floral scent filling the air. Itâs so pungent you want to gag.
âFuck,â you mutter, stepping back and plugging your nose. âJiâWOOZI, Iââ
Heâs rooted to the ground, hands pressed over his ears and eyes screwed shut. Your eyes widen when taking in how his shoulders shake.
Worriedly and without hesitation, you dash over to him, extending the tips of your fingers to run along the stitches of his leather jacket.
One of WOOZIâs eyes crack open. The iris of brown meets you, his pupil practically a slit, and you falter just enough for him to recognize what youâre trying to do.
He strikes your hand away, fast as lightning, and you yelp in pain.
âDonât fucking touch me.â WOOZI regards you with a voice that doesnât sound like his own; itâs roughened around the edges, and so, so cold, that you shiver despite the jacket around your shoulders. âIâm leaving. And you canât stop me.â
He does exactly what he says heâll do, slamming the door so hard behind him it rattles in his wake. Sinking to the floor, you let out a sob.
The perfume bottleâs rose-colored pieces are left untouched.
đ ATLANTA, GEORGIA
Jihoon traces the outline of your side-profile from backstage, eyes taking in your loose tank top and baggy shorts that fall just a little above your knees. The stage lights burn brightly onto your newly colored hair, freshly dyed the night before, and your lips are bruised with the cherry red lip stain he knows you love. Youâre in the middle of Real Man, fingers holding the guitar pick so tight heâs a little scared youâll break it by force.
And I already told you I just wanted to dance
Could you see me standing out here with my outstretched hand?
I guess no one ever taught you how to be a real man, ooh
He feels Seungcheol before he sees him; the hand on his shoulder is weighted, resolute. The bassist says nothing to him as you launch into the second verse of the song.
What Jihoon hates the most is how much of a coward he isâhow, even back then with Seokmin, all he knew how to do was put up a cold front and sneer.
Seokmin, with his bright laugh and hopeful gaze. Seokmin, with his neverending optimism, who cheered the three of them on during late nights at their old companyâs studio. Seokmin, who took a slap for him from their bitchy CEO, ushering him and his bandmates to flee and never come back.
Crash!
âSeokmin!â He had yelledânever before had he yelled so loud. Jihoon remembers his hoarse voice the day after, how Seungcheol had to brew him ginger tea for his throat.
He also remembers how Seokmin had just laughed, blood dripping from a cut across his cheek. The vase that had smashed to smithereens lay right below him, knocked over when he stumbled back from the CEOâs hand, and Jihoon remembers the smell of the daisies all too well.
âJihoon,â Seokmin grinned. âItâs okay. The contract isnât renewing. Go. Iâll always believe in you.â
Walking as the morning beckon
You said you'll be a second
Locked the back door
Yeah, you should have mentioned
Guess I should expect it
I'm out here, blue
What to do?
âDid you know today marks a hundred days since we properly met them?â Seungcheol asks, startling Jihoon out of his memories. âAnd soon weâll hit the hundred day mark with them as our opener.â
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Pauses in opening his mouth. Thinks about how he canât see your eyes from this angle, but doesnât quite know what heâs looking for in them anyway.
âWhereâd you hear that? Soonyoung?â Jihoon finally snorts. âHim and his weird anniversaries.â
From his peripheral vision, he sees Seungcheol shrug. Instead of giving a proper answer, the bassist lets out a low whistle and runs a hand through his hair.
âMan, they must be really worked up about something.â
Jihoonâs already staring at you when you drop to your knees, head tilted back and eyelashes flush against your cheeks. Real Man isnât a ballad song by any means, but your stage presence has made it infinitely more personal this time around as you cry the lyrics into the microphone.
Would you hold it down and take it if I gave you a chance?
Need the reassurance, baby, not a silly romance
Guess I'm used to being disappointed, falling too fast
If you want it, go and get it, and I hope you last
âIf you want it, go and get it!â Tears stream down your face; Jihoon ashamedly thinks you look like an angel with your hair framing your face so perfectly, head still tilted back to the light.
âAnd I hope you last.â
You punctuate the last word with a fist to the air. The stage lights darken, the music stills, and all that can be heard is the heavy breathing from you onstage.
That is, until the audience bursts into screams, of course.
He feels a hard clap to his shoulder. Seungcheolâs expression is stony, written with thick strokes of disappointment, doing nothing to ease the onslaught of bullets that are currently being shot into Jihoonâs chest.
Fix your shit, man, is what his friend says without words, before he leaves to go further backstage.
Youâre standing up again, facing the crowd and away from Jihoonâs anxious eyes. He sees you readying your guitar for the last song.
âThank you, Atlanta,â you say into the mic. âItâs been a pleasure being able to open for you tonight. This song⌠itâs dedicated to someone very special to me. I hope one day Iâll be able to introduce you to him.â
The crowd goes absolutely wild, and Jihoon becomes a deer caught in headlights. Heâs listened to your setlist enough times to have memorized the orderâknows that after Real Man, comes a song that you hold so close to your heart.
âAtlanta!â You strike a chord. âThis is He Gets Me So High!â
Thereâs no time for him to react before you jump into the music, your mellifluous voice sweetening the sickening lyrics of the song as you strum. Jihoon canât bear to watch anymore.
A staff member comes to remind him that heâs up next, and he gratefully takes the opportunity to leaveâbut not without throwing one last look over his shoulder. The entire show youâve been facing away from him, but this time, youâre angled so he can see the glimmer of your star stud.
Then, you move, and that light fizzles out.
âA hundred days, huh,â he mutters, following the staff to his dressing room. âYouâd think weâd have moved past square one at this point.â
â
You trace a light line across the dahlia on your ankle. Minghao had offered to touch-up on your old tattoos for free, but you had turned him down, liking how the fade of the ink added to the sentiment.
If only all your tattoos had such lighthearted meanings to them.
âSit up a little straighter for me, please.â
Sakura, after your soft pleas, became one of your go-to staff members after shows to help you tidy yourself up. She gives a tiny pat to your leg, indicating you should put it down from its place propped up on your knee, and you oblige.
From outside your dressing room, you pick up on the now-familiar shouts from CH33RSâ crowd. While each cityâs audience had their own unique soundâNew York was full of screamers, whereas San Francisco had sweeter tones to themâthey all bled into the same stream of being wildly captivated by the rock band.
Which, to your utter shame, you canât exactly say is not hard to do.
âSakura.â She hums to show sheâs heard you, combing a hand through your hair to work the product out of it. âDo you enjoy being a staff member for CH33RS?â
The girl doesnât stop in her ministrations, but she does fall into a different kind of silence from before, and you can only imagine the gears turning in her head.
âTheyâre very chaotic.â She statesâthis gets a giggle out of you. âBut theyâre very genuine in their actions, and I respect them for that.â
You wring your hands together. âGenuine?â
âIâd like to think so.â In the mirror, you see the reflection of her smile: itâs gentle and coats you with warmth, like oneâs favorite quilt would do. âEspecially Jihoon. He may seem prickly, but I think heâs just bad with words. Heâs much better at showing sincerity through his actions.â
With a bite to your cheek, you carefully formulate your response, hoping Sakura doesnât see through the cracks of your facade.
âHeâs definitely⌠a character,â you confess. âItâs been hard to get along with him.â
To your surprise, Sakura only chuckles, as if she expected your answer. âI think itâs because youâve been trying to be someone you think he would get along with. Itâs hard to be someone youâre not, you know.â
Her words leave you silent, and she finishes up with pulling your hair back from your face to start taking off your makeup. While Sakura doesnât say any more than that, you feel squeamish in your seatâalmost as if she knows something you donât, and is waiting for you to realize it.
â
The water of the hotel stings.
You rub your eyes with your hands, blinking away tears that crowd the corners of your eyes.
Itâs hard to be someone youâre not, you know.
A spray of hot water hits your back as you turn around, leaning against the tiled walls with a sniffle. Sakuraâs words hit you with a truck of feelings youâre not sure youâre ready to face.
Sairen. The stage name echoes in your mind, and you repeat it out loud, hating how it rolls off the tongue with such an alluring mystique to itâthe sigh of a maidenâs whisper before being grounded with a firm, calm ending, one that leaves you aching for more. It sickens you to the bone.
You cry softly into your hands. Sakuraâs right. Pretending to be a magnetic pull when you are instead a sporadic force of resistance has led to the baring of your teeth one too many times. You desperately wish you could mold yourself into what society is begging you to be, if only to stop the relentless torment you endure every time someone mistreats you.
Because pray, do tellâhow are you supposed to be the gentle, enticing waves of the ocean, when all you are is the barreling torrent of a tsunami?
Slowly turning the knob of the shower, you shiver as the heat of the bathroom begins to dissipate, condensing into little water droplets on the glass of the showerâs door. Goosebumps prickle your skin and you hurry to wrap yourself in the towel you had prepared before getting in.
The hotel room is dark when you step out, but youâre taken away by the sight of the Atlanta skyline at night. Lights twinkle from various apartments and city buildings, looking like a galaxy some thousand light years away, and you find yourself standing at the bay of your window, hair still dripping wet onto your shoulders and fluffy towel warming you to your toes.
Tap, tap.
Your breath hitches at the soft knock of the door. Itâs well past two in the morningâJoshua wouldnât come bothering you at this hour, and Soonyoung knows better than to try and show up unannounced. Heartbeat quickening, you rustle around for a shirt to throw on, hastily hanging your towel on the metal rod inside the bathroom.
Before you can stop yourself, youâre at the door, rising to peek through the peephole on the hotel room door. âHello?â
The sight on the other side of the door makes your stomach drop.
WOOZI, hair messy and bearing grey sweats with a black tank. Heâs shuffling about awkwardly in his sandals, but his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, and in the half-heartbeat that you see his face it looks like heâs beenâcrying?
âHey, itâs me.â WOOZI speaks in a low, muted pitch, and it has your heart aching.
Whatever. Your face burns as you clench your jaw, your back hurriedly pressed to the door, the sound of your breath coming out in rough gasps. Just make it back to your bed. Just go to sleep, and heâll be gone.
Thenâyour name is uttered.
Suspended in place, the air is stuck in your lungs as a dull thump comes from behind you. Though the door is dense, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of him through it. You donât know whether to run or let it embrace you.
He says your name again. The sound is loudest right at the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver despite the muffling of the door.
âIâIâm sorry,â he breathes. âIâve been a jerk this entire time. Even when you treated me with nothing but kindnessâitâs⌠I have no other explanation or reasoning or justification, but Iâm sorry.â
âI just had to let you know before the next show.â
Unfurling your fists and against better judgement, you turn to flip the lock of the hotel door open.
WOOZIâs eyes are tinged red. The beauty mark you like to study when he isnât looking is bold against his pale, blush-fevered skin, making your heart leap in your throat.
âAt least have the decency to apologize to my face, dickhead.â It comes out in a pitiful attempt to insult him; a blurt, which is followed by the sound of you sniffling and walking away from the doorway.
He must come in right behind you, because the hallway light goes out not even a second later as the door clicks shut. The city lights glimmer from your window, illuminating your hotel room with a dim glow, and the soft hum of the air conditioner has made itself comfortable in the silence.
âDecency?â echoes WOOZI.
In the blink of an eye, heâs got your wrist caught in his hand, spinning you around to look him in the eye. The expression on his face is a new oneâthereâs a crease in the middle of his forehead, lips pressed into a small frown, and a small part of you wants to believe heâs worried about you.
âIf weâre talking decency, then you should at least also have the decency to look me in the face,â he murmurs, running a thumb along your knuckles.
Your cheeks burn. He must notice this, because he drops your hand soon after, opting to rub his forearm and clear his throat. âYâknow, youâre pretty bad at that. Eye contact.â
This gets a proper reaction out of you. Huffing, you turn away again, wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
âWOOZI. What are you doing here? What are you trying to possibly gain from this?â
There it is. At the last word, your voice breaks. Cringing, you inwardly curse at yourself, hating the evident flash of hurt in your tone.
âDidnât you hear me earlier?â WOOZIâs walking around your figure to get you to face him again; the city lights disappear, his shadow looming over your body and sending shivers down your spine. âIâmâIâm apologizing. Iâm trying to make things betterâfuck, canât you just look at me?â
Your hands shake as you tear at your hair. âNo, IâI canât. I canât do that, Iâm sorry. And I canât accept your apology.â
âWhy not?â You see him reach for your hand once more.
âBecause!â Tugging your fingers away, the electricity jolts you alive, and your breaths start to fall shallow. âBecauseâhow can I know youâre for real this time? How do I know youâre not going to push me away, again? How do I know that youâre not just spitting empty words at me like you have been the past few weeks?â
You donât even realize youâre crying. The tears come slowly, at first, dripping down your cheeks and making droplets on your tee. Soon enough, though, theyâre the flooding rapids of a river, all the emotions that youâve bottled up over the course of the day exploding like a shaken can of soda.
âIâm tired of this, Jihoon,â you sob. âIâm tired of whatever the fuck this friendshipâthis, this situation is. Maybe you were right. Maybe we should just stay as memories on a map to one another.â
It all happens so fast; one moment, the cool air of the hotel surrounds you, and the next WOOZIâs got you tightly wrapped up in a hug. Itâs the first time heâs voluntarily touched you the entire tour, a sickening part of your brain hoping itâs not the last. His hands are cold, fingers splayed firmly across the small of your back, but his torsoâitâs warm.
âIâm sorry,â heâs croaking into your shoulder; you long to feel the brush of his lips against your bare skin. âIâm so, so, so awful with words. Iâm sorry.â
His arms, heavy with muscle and firm with his quiet determination, guide you to your bed. The backs of your knees hit your comforter, and you sink to sit on the edge, letting go of him to cover your blazing face with your hands.
Youâre expecting WOOZI to leave after sitting you down on the bed, fully convinced heâd be too off put by the surge of your emotions to have a proper conversation with you.
Of course, in true WOOZI nature, he surprises you by beginning to comb his hands through your hair.
He stands between you, not talking with words but with his fingers. Iâm sorry, his index and middle finger mumble, disentangling some strands that veil your expression from him. Iâm sorry, whispers his thumb, oh-so-carefully tracing the outer shell of your ear down to the point of your jaw.
Iâm sorry.
âYou still wonât look at me.â His murmur of your name is stained with defeat. âPlease, just look at me.â
With a gulp, you lift your chin, trembling eyes meeting his. As you do so, his hand slides to cradle the side of your cheek in his hold. You try to fight the urge of pressing a kiss to his palm.
âThere you go,â WOOZI lets out a sigh. âWasnât that hard, was it?â
He stands in between your legs, looking down at you with a gaze full of utter reverence. It almost makes you laugh.
âI should be the one saying that to you,â you croak out, the words getting stuck halfway in your throat. âIt only took me several breakdowns for you to finally apologize. Wasnât that hard, was it?â
Though the words are supposed to have a bite to them, they instead have a subdued acceptance to them, your heart pounding loud in your ears from how intimate this moment is. Now that you can get a good look at him, you spot your favorite manmade mark thus farâhis star stud now shines brightly, spurred on by the Atlanta lights.
âYeah,â WOOZI draws his hand away; you make a soft noise of protest at the lack of his touch. âWasnât that hard. Shouldâve done this way sooner.â
His hands are on either side of you on the bed, leaning forward while you simultaneously lean back on your own hands. The tips of your noses touch and you donât know where to lookâhis lips are parted, coffee-grounded eyes trained on the slope of your cupidâs bow, thumbs just barely skimming the surface of your thighs.
Time is awfully slow at times like this. You breathe a sigh into his mouth, one that makes his eyelashes flutter with a heaviness youâre quite sure you could get used to, and the seconds just keep on ticking.
âYouâre not going to tell me to stop this time,â you murmur. âAre you?â
And then he fucking grins. âNah. Been told Iâm bad at words, so Iâll stick to letting my actions talk for me.â
Youâre not ready for the swell of emotions that overcome you when his lips eagerly press to yours, drowning your senses in the smell of his shampoo. Your arms give out, and you fall back onto the bed, a whine escaping you when you feel the dip of his knee on the bed next to your thigh.
Kissing WOOZI is like taking your first dip in the oceanâthe temperature initially shocks you and sends you into a gasping spiral, but then gradually gives way to the relaxing thrum of the waves against your body. His tongue darts out and takes a swipe along your bottom lip, your back arching in pleasure, and you feel the grin on his face when his teeth bump with yours.
âWOOZIââ You start, pulling back with a gasp.
Adjusting his position above you, the manâs head dips to press open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. He gives a nip to the column of your throat, making you let out an embarrassingly loud noise of content.
âI told you to call me Jihoon, didnât I?â
Cheeks flushed, you let your arms snake around his neck, tugging lightly on the hair at the base of his neck. âNeed to lay down. On the bed, please, Jihoon.â
Jihoon huffs out a laugh, detaching his lips from your neck with one last kiss. When he gets off you, you mourn the loss of his body heat, a long sigh leaving you at the glance you get of the tent in his grey sweats.
He guides you to sit much more comfortably on the bed, your head resting against the soft feathery pillows the hotel provided. Wasting no time, Jihoon settles between your legs once more, just barely dipping his hands underneath your already-bunched up shirt.
Leaning over you again, Jihoon tugs at your ear with his teeth, giving it a small kiss after. âBetter?â
His fingers are a welcome chill to your feverish skin, and your quivering eyelashes tell him as such as you finally give into your desires, bringing one of his hands to your lips to press chaste kisses to. Jihoonâs own lips part in shallowing pants. His pupils are blown wide as he watches your ministrations turn less than innocent when you take the tip of his thumb in your mouth.
Your eyes are dark and half-lidded as you stare up at him with a challenge, swirling the digit around your tongue and sucking lightly. When you sigh, he sighs; when you let your eyes flutter close, his eyelids close half-way, becoming half-lidded in the dim light of your bedroom.
âYou look so good when youâre like this, you know that?â Jihoon intones, the newfound sensation of the slow roll of his hips making you gasp and let his thumb fall out of your mouth with a pop!
You let out a shy mewl; heâs so hard against you, the friction of his sweatpants and your underwear catching onto your clit in the most delicious way. Chest heaving, your head tilts back on the pillows, exposing the column of your throat to him once more.
And he takes, dragging his teeth down your neck and sucking at the base of your collarbone. His hands are relentless on your body, squeezing your waist so hard you hope it bruises.
Jihoon pulls at the offending piece of clothing still on you. âCan I take this off, pretty?â
âYes, please,â you beg. âAnd you too, Ji.â
âOf course I can.â He presses a long, sweet saccharine kiss to your shiny lips, one that leaves you breathless.
Jihoon sits back on his haunches, tugging his tank top off in one quick and smooth pull. Your eyes widen at the ebony serpent engraved into his skin, its tongue flicking out with a glint of danger in its expression.
The man quietly observes you reaching out to outline the tattoo. His abdomen tenses at your touch, but he lets you continue your journey down his torso, silent awe in your eyes.
âItâs beautiful,â you murmur, gaze finally meeting his. âWhat does it mean?â
Swallowing thickly, Jihoon places a hand over yours, extending your fingers to fully splay over the mystical creature.
âSupposed to be the serpent Ouroboros, from Egyptian mythology, before he was doomed to his eternal fate of consuming himself over and over.â Jihoonâs voice is impossibly low. âA reminder to myself to never succumb to my greed.â
âMight have to go back on that promise, though,â he chuckles, eyes drifting to where your nipples are perked up underneath your shirt. âYouâre making it kinda hard to keep myself in check.â
Jihoon lifts you up with a surprising amount of strength, helping you get your shirt off and throwing it off the bed without as much as a look. You let out a squeak when he dives between your breasts, massaging them with both hands and hungrily pressing sloppy, wet kisses to the valley between them.
All the while, heâs started grinding against you again, and youâre left a little unsure of the source of the stickiness between your legs. Jihoonâs presence is overwhelming, as if his goal is to make you think of him and him only, and this thought makes your stomach churn with need.
His mouth makes its way down your body, biting at your skin with his fangs before smoothing the lovebites over with his tongue. The saliva he leaves in his wake burns cold in the air conditioned air of your hotel room, but itâs nothing compared to the fire in your lower stomach.
A groan leaves his throat when he comes to the new flowers lacing your thighâright next to the delicate material of your panties.
âWhen you got this tattoo,â he sighs, and you squeal at the sudden press of his tongue, flat against the darkening spot of your underwear between your legs. âIt took everything in me not to crack at the sight of you in those damn shorts you wore for days after.â
Your panties muffle his words, but as if to make up for it, the vibrations coming from his lips on your clit send waves of pleasure through you. Moaning, you raise your hips to meet his face, your back lifting off the mattress.
Inevitably, Jihoon grows tired of only tasting cotton. In a flash, your panties lay somewhere behind him on the bed, and his mouth licks a stripe up your folds, your moans music to his ears.
âJihoonâoh, fuckââ you whimper, covering your face with your arms in embarrassment. âFeelsâfeels sâgood, please donât stop.â
He hums a melody into your cunt, letting his tongue kiss the insides of your gummy walls. Youâre delicious, a taste he could only imagine of on nights with no one but him and his hand. Jihoon buries himself further into you, nose rubbing against the bud that draws the loudest sounds out of your throat, and loving every second of it.
Youâre squeezing his head between your thighs with all your might, frantically trying to get him to go deeper with his tongue. Fingers scratching at his scalp, your voice comes out in a babble as Jihoon does something with his tongue that leaves your legs shaking.
âDâdo that again, please, sir.â The title falls out of you with shockingly little thought, and you clamp around his tongue with a deep flush.
Jihoon pulls back from your folds, cocking his head with a smirk. You whine at the sight of the wetness coating his chin; it dribbles down onto the comforter with little to no regard for your sanity.
âSir, huh?â He mumbles, teeth moving to nip again at your sensitive spot; you jump and let out a moan. âThatâs a new one.â
The singer prods at your entrance with his tongue once more, one of his digits tracing circles around your puffy clit. âYou want me to do what again, rockstar?â
Keening, you struggle to keep your eyes open, pathetically pawing at his hair and hoping Jihoon gets the message. He only raises an eyebrow at you, much to your dismay, before devilishly slurping the new juices flooding out of your hole.
His fingers, the ones youâve only watched pick at his guitar strings until now, make quick work of you, sliding in a V-shape around your budâup, down, up, down. The wet smacks of his mouth against your pussy echo in the quiet hotel room, loud and lewd. Your noises of pleasure accompany them to create what Jihoon would call his favorite orchestra.
âThâthat! Oh my God, Jihoon!â You yank at his hair, hard, when he does that stupid thing with his tongue again. âSirâoh god, please⌠Iâm gonnaââ
The coils in your lower stomach are threatening to burst. Itâs a searing kind of pleasureâone that borders on pain as Jihoon vigorously works his tongue and fingers simultaneously faster, until youâre left a sobbing mess for him to pick up the pieces of. Too much, you want to cry out. Too much, but please donât stop.
Your legs are convulsing, endless in their tremors as you get lost in how good heâs making you feel. However, just as youâre about to let go of that star, letting it explode into oblivionâ
Slap!
A shriek escapes you and you tear your eyes open, hips jolting with the force of Jihoonâs slap against your cunt. Heâs grinning, fingers tapping your clit three times before his hand drops.
âSorry, rockstar,â he teases, shifting upwards to engulf you in a kiss; you taste yourself on his tongue, gooey and sweet, and whimper in response. âDidnât want you to cum before Iâve had my share of fun, yâknow?â
Jihoon rocks his hips forward, his hard-on barely concealed by his sweatpants and dragging enticingly along your pussy just right. Breathlessly, you hold onto his broad shoulders, pouting up at him with your release smeared all over your lips from his kiss.
âPlease,â you whisper; he doesnât even have to ask what youâre begging for, too entranced by the soft spoken sound of your plea.
Shuffling his pants and boxers off, youâre finally met with the sight of his cock: girthy and curved ever so slightly, with a tip tinged so red it leaves your mouth aching to be filled. He grunts as it slaps against his lower stomach, choking out a moan when you immediately reach down to spread your fingers around his tip, smearing pre all over himself.
Jihoon catches your wrist in his hand, looking at you with a gaze so dark it has you clenching around nothing. âCareful what you wish for, pretty,â he mumbles aloud. âDonât bite off more than you can chew right now.â
He lets his cock slide deliciously between your folds, your juices mixing with his pre to create the perfect lube. Itâs so messy, with Jihoon gasping every time the tip of his cock brushes against your entrance. The sheets below you are soaked with your arousal, and you silently pray that the hotel staff wonât mind too much in the morning.
âRide me,â Jihoon suddenly says. âNeed you to ride me. Please.â
 Youâve never heard him beg before, but you decide right then and there itâs one of your favorite sounds.
His eyes are so dark you can barely see the irises anymore, and are so, so glossy, that you worry heâs about to cry. Cradling his cheek in your hand, you swipe your thumb along his beauty mark with a soft smile.
âOf course, Jihoon,â you whisper.
He flips you over so youâre straddling him, your left hand splayed against Ouroboros. Jihoon tortures his bottom lip with his teeth as you mentally prepare yourself.
The stretch is painful. You squeeze your eyes shut as you lower yourself onto his length, whimpering from the dull sting of him. Jihoon isnât doing any better; you hear his groan of pleasure, his hips twitching, before heâs desperately trying to still them as to not start frantically thrusting up into you.
âSâtoo big,â you fret, lashes fluttering along your cheeks with tears beginning to line the corners of your eyes. âSir, sâtoo big.â
Jihoon grasps your hand in his and kisses it delicately. âYouâre doing great, baby. Just breathe. Mâright here.â
Slowly, you inch your way down his cock, until your hips meet his. You sniffle and try not to cry; heâs so deep in you, making you feel so full it has your head spinning.
âGood job, pretty.â Jihoon massages your hips with his fingers, squeezing the flesh with a gentleness you didnât know he had. âYou did so well. Feel good yet?â
âUh-huh,â you nod, trembling above him.
âGood,â says the man. âNow ride me.â
With a small whine, your thighs shake as you lift yourself once, before dropping back down onto his cock. The loud, unabashed sound of his skin meeting yours makes you squeak in surprise, and Jihoon lets out a long, drawn out groan.
âKeep going, baby,â he encourages.
His hands help to guide you until youâre a bouncing wreck, cunt slamming down onto his dick with so much force the bed frame creaks in protest. Jihoon grabs your chin and pulls you into a smoldering kiss, your spit mixing with his as you unashamedly moan into his mouth.
âGod, fuck, youâre taking mâso well.â Jihoon moans, lips sliding against your teeth, beginning to piston up into you at an impossibly harsh speed. Heâs hitting that one spot thatâs making you see absolute stars, your walls violently fluttering around him. âYouâfuck, you feel sâgood babyâtell me how much you like it.â
Your hips are starting to slow, especially with the new oncoming force of his thrusts, but you do your best to keep up with his pace. âLove it so much, sirâshit! Oh god⌠please, keep goingâŚâ
He must notice your slowing rate, because Jihoon makes a show of gripping onto your hips with a brutal hold and moving you in time with him.
âCâmon, baby,â Jihoon grunts. âThought I told you to ride me.â
Itâs so unbelievably hot, your skin sticky with sweat and whatever fluids have ended up on it. You let Jihoon take control, fingernails dragging down his chest as he lets out a hiss of pleasure. They leave little trails of red in their wake, and you take this chance to suck a bruising hickey or two into his shoulder, shuddering at his cock pressing into you in all the right places.
The squelching noises are what really get to you. They ring in your ears, directly fueling the pit in your stomach thatâs already about to explode again. You feel so dirty.
âJâJihoon,â you warn, the last syllable coming out in a garble. âOhâoh, sir, too much! Gonnaââ
And then Jihoonâs flipping you two over again, your face being pushed into the hotel pillows as he sets a pace so brutal it has you screaming. His cock rams into you, hands spreading your cheeks apart, as he finally lets loose of all control.
âYâyeah?â Heâs moaning. âGonna what, pretty? Gonna cum all over my cock?â
Fisting the sheets, you nod your head eagerly, voice small in contrast to the loud, lewd noises coming from the two of you. âYesâyes, please let me come sir, please please please pleaseââ
âGo ahead baby. Cum.â
With a broken wail, your pussy flutters around his length, a burst of pleasure peaking within you as you see white. Jihoon still doesnât stop, working you through your orgasm, until heâs whining and bent over you, mouthing at your shoulder with love bites.
âFuck, babyââ
He pulls out and you sob at the loss, liquids rushing out of your hole as Jihoon works himself over with his hand. His cum spurts, hot and thick, all across your back and ass, and you clench around nothing to cope.
Breathing heavily, you turn your head, gasping for air. Tears stream down your face that you wipe away hastily. Jihoon, above you, has his breath coming out in harsh pants, leaning his weight onto the backs of your thighs.
For a few minutes, thereâs nothing but the sound of your shared breathing, the air conditioning kicking in again to rid the room of the smell of sex.
âJihoon.â Your voice is tiny, but he hears it all the same, taking a moment before moving so he can stand up and crouch beside the bed at your eye level.
With an inquisitive look from him, you blink the remaining tears away.
âAtlanta wonât be just another tour date to you, right?â
Jihoonâs shushing you before you can even get the question out. âBaby, baby, no. Atlanta is so much more than that to me, I swear. Youâre much more than one night to me.â
He punctuates his words with kisses to your fingertips. You melt under his gaze, so soft and inviting itâs hard to ever remember a time where he looked at you with such contempt.
âThenâŚâ You swallow tersely, pain lacing your every word. âWhy did you sleep with that person? In Orlando?â
Jihoonâs expression turns solemn. He squeezes his eyes shut, heaving out a sigh, and when he speaks next, his tone is charred with regret.
âTo try to forget.â
You frown. âThatâs kinda hard to do.â
Smiling bitterly, Jihoon turns his face towards you again. âYeah. Really hard to forget you, yâknow. Especially now.â
Pouting, your cheeks flush, and you huff. Itâs quiet again before you ask whatâs been on your mind.
âDoes that mean weâre dating now?â
The man chuckles, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. âYouâre asking that now? You are soâŚâ
âLetâs take it slow.â Jihoon stands up and disappears from your vision; you hear the click of the bathroom door, followed by the sound of the sink running, before heâs padding back to you with a wet cloth in his hands. âThereâs no rush when it comes to us, âkay?â
You have the audacity to let out a snort as he begins wiping your back down, the towel feeling like heaven against your skin. âRight. Like how there was no rush to eat me out, Iâm sure.â
He pauses, and you snicker at his dumbfounded expression. Jihoon sighs and shakes his head.
âSave it for when you arenât covered in my cum, rockstar.â
ââŚTouchĂŠ,â you concede, giggling as he presses kisses to your cheeks.
The towel is soon thrown in the bin, and he settles next to you in bed, curling an arm around your waist. You murmur a hello, eyes finding his under the Atlanta city lights.
âSleep time, now,â he chides. âWe have a flight at one tomorrow.â
Humming to show you heard him, you tilt your head forehead to boop his nose with yours. The stars are shining brightly, youâre positively sure of this, and Jihoon smiles against your lips as you whisper a goodnight.
Houston tomorrow, and Dallas next. Your eyes close easily, sleep coaxing you into the dreamworld rather quickly. Then, the future. Whatever the hell that entails.
The thought leaves you off with a grin.
â
âRough night, eh?â
You jump in your seat, flinching at the sound of Jeonghanâs voice. Heâs draped over the airplane seat in front of you, blonde hair perfectly framing the shit-eating grin on his face. It only grows when you fail to answer his question.
âShut the fuck up, Jeonghan,â you snarl.
The manager of CH33RS barks out a laugh, causing Seungcheol next to him to throw a look over his shoulder. When he spots you, bottom lip pushed out in a glower, he gives his own chuckle.
âHappy for you,â Seungcheol calls; you wave him off, trying not to let his words affect you too much.
Pouting, you curl up in your chair, only picking your head up when Joshua peers over from the seat behind you, nudging the back of your head with a chirp of your name.
âHey, take a look at this.â Your manager heaves his laptop over the chairs, and you grunt as you take it into your lap. âLet me know if I should schedule him for an interview when we get back to San Francisco.â
Lee Chan. His name comes out quick and fast, and you study his profile from the website Joshuaâs got pulled up. Personal stylist, based in Berkeley, California. Looking for a full-time job under someone in the music industry. Flexible schedule.
âHow do you keep finding Korean men to associate me with?â You laugh, passing the device back to him. âHe looks promising. Did you run a background check on him?â
Joshua nods, typing away on his laptop atop the chairs. People who pass by him on the way to their seats give him a funny look, but he pays them no mind. âIâll have to get the higher upâs approval, but that shouldnât be hard. Lee Chanâs got about five years of experience in various other companies. Never stayed in one place for too long, though. Guess heâs as frustrated as we are with the industry.â
âIâd like to meet him, when you invite him for an interview.â The smile that spreads across your face is genuine, and Joshua mirrors your expression when he glances up from his screen.
âLook at you,â he coos, beginning to wipe fake tears away from his eyes. âWanting to personally mingle with potential future staff members. Youâve come a long way⌠Iâm so proud of youâŚâ
Tsk-ing, you swat at him, letting out another laugh when he only stumbles back into his chair with a mock-offended gasp. Turning back around in your seat, you hum a tune to yourself, hope alight in your heart for what seems like a step towards proper management. A personal stylist would mean no more dealing with the berating cosmetic stylists at photoshoots or music video shoots, and the thought warms you down to your core.
Jihoon joins you a moment later; you both finally made the pinky promise to catch up on Frieren, the two hour flight to Houston being a perfect solution to your dilemma. Sliding into the cushioned seat, heâs already pulling out his wired buds, silently untangling them with a carefully stoic face.
You know better now, thoughâthereâs a blush creeping up the column of his neck, and his fingers are clumsier than usual, slipping in and over themselves more times than not when trying to straighten out the wires.
So, you wait, watching out the window as air crew members line luggages to be packed onto the bottom of the plane. Heâll come to you when heâs ready.
And he does, poking the side of your arm with one of the buds.
âHere,â he murmurs. âYou want the left one, right?â
Humming, you intentionally have your thumb run along the side of his index finger when taking the earbud, enjoying how he stiffens at your touch. Giving him a half-smile, you bump his shoulder playfully.
âYeah. Thanks, Ji.â
Jihoon huffs but doesnât move away; instead, he presses his shoulder to yours in a promise. Always.
Last but not least, Soonyoung comes bumbling down the aisle of first class, his new silver nose ring catching the overhead lights and complimenting the chain heâs sporting around his neck. He shoots the two of you a thumbs up, clapping Jihoonâs shoulder as he walks by to take his place next to Joshua, and you have to stifle another laugh.
The captain wastes no time once all the passengers are on the plane, flight attendants going through their usual routine of health and safety protocols. Youâre barely listening, too caught up in the searing touch of Jihoonâs hand on your thigh.
Sometimes heâll reach over to threateningly poke at the skin right next to the Blue-Moon Weed flowers, giving you a smirk when you shoot him a glare. After the third time, however, he tilts down to whisper something into your ear.
âNext time you get a tattoo, invite me to the studio, âkay rockstar?â
The pilot begins to back the airplane out of the terminal, the roar of the engine slowly coming to life as it approaches the runway. Breath hitching in your throat, you smile up at Jihoon: black bangs parted messily, eyes crinkling at the corners, and nose scrunched up to give his star stud the spotlight it deserves.
Youâve never found him more attractive, nor more yours, until this moment.
âRight back at ya, rockstar,â you challenge. âWe may as well get matching tattoos. Whaddaya think?â
He considers it as the aircraftâs engine grows louder, trees whorling past you to indicate its about to make its ascent.
âI think youâre too impulsive for your own good,â he chuckles, brushing a strand of dyed hair out of your face.
âSo, youâll do it?â You eagerly lean into his touch, eyes wide with hope.
The airplane successfully makes its debut into the clouds, and Jihoonâs smiling at you like youâve got all the time in the world to make this rushed decision together. Impulsivity was your forte, after all, and there were too many memories to be made in such a small amount of remaining tour locations.
Jihoon hums, bringing you out of your thoughts, prolonging his response even though you already know the answer.
âWhat design did you have in mind?â
đ DALLAS, TEXAS
âHi, guys,â you whisper into the mic, smiling when the live chat floods with reactions. âYeah, yeah, I know it's late. Shouldnât some of yâall be sleeping too? Why are you berating me for this?â
Your hotel room is dimly lit by the lamp beside your bed. You have your guitar out, strumming lightly, and when the viewers take notice they eagerly eat up the melodies youâre humming.
âWhereâs Jihoon?â you query, reading off the comments from your phone screen. âHow should I know? Heâs probably asleep or something. Lord knows he needs his rest.â
You scoff and knock your knuckles against the polished wood of the instrument. Thereâs requests for songs in chat accompanied by demands to go to the singerâs room and bring him on live. Shaking your head, you tsk. âIâve spoiled you guys too much. Youâre getting greedy.â
âNow, what should I sing?â
The chat is going so fast you can barely read it, but you smile anyway, feeling at peace in a city youâve barely been in. The hotel youâre at is a fairly high-end one, and high up at thatâfrom your place on the bed you can see the twinkling lights of the city below. Cars are shooting down the highways, their lights zooming by, and you revel in the peace that is Dallas at night.
Your voice lifts, delicate against the string plucking youâve chosen for tonight, a low intone as you settle on a song choice. If one were to close their eyes, they could probably picture being in a stadium full of shimmering flashlights as they sang into the mic.
I'm running over sentences at times
I'd better quit dreaming just so I could write
Yet the words to describe you aren't so hard to find
Like a good quote from a book that I've memorized
But I keep forgetting just what to do
A viewer asks what song this is, and you only respond with a smile. âOh, this? Itâs a new one Iâve been working on during tour.â
âDo you like it?â you ask softly, before continuing.
I missed the train again
I called your name, as if you'd drive it back
I swear you're in my head
Throughout the day
I can say that for a fact
Truth be told, your legs are shaking under your guitar. These lyrics are raw and unfilteredâtheyâre straight from your notes app, unedited and messily scribbled into your notebook with a melody you came up with just fifteen minutes ago.
Youâre not sure what exactly prompted you to start the live, but something told you it would be worthwhile. Perhaps it was that you had too many feelings now that you were just incapable of bottling them up; or, perhaps, it was the Texas night sky that had you craving for some sort of semblance of familiar recognition, the stars reminding you too much of the stage.
Whatever it was, you welcome it with open armsâall emotions are valid emotions, after all. You close your eyes and let a wave of serenity wash over you.
Know we had better days, but to keep me sane
I guess that this is just another love song,
About you
A ping! from your phone has you cracking your eye open in just a sliver, pinpointing the message thatâs now resting at the top of your screen. The senderâs name stands boldly out against the notification and almost makes you choke on your own spit.
frieren freak!!
Pretty voice. You should sing acoustic more often.
Just another love song,
About you
Your voice falters at the last note, but you continue to strum, humming an encore for the viewers. Thereâs another buzz from your phone.
frieren freak!!
Let me in?
Slowly, you let the strings of the guitar fade. Your smile is enough to compete with celestial beings as you pick up the device and blow a kiss goodnight.
âThatâs it for tonight, guys,â you giggle. âDallas, Iâll see you tomorrow. Thereâs someone Iâve been meaning to introduce to yâall.â
âEND.
thank you so, so, so much for reading! if you liked this, please be sure to check out the other fics out for yuki's 100 milestone collab! have an amazing day and as always, may good music find you <3!
Note: This author does not need to get back to me or respond in anyway. I want to be able to appreciate the author's work.
Non-spoiler review: I'm going insane over this fic. Im astonished. I truly LOVED the ride this fic took me on. The way the author incorporates certain details of the fic were so neat and everything just comes together so neatly. I loved Jihoon and the reader, their problems and how they grow along side each other. It was such a fun time and a fantastic read.
I didn't proof read this at all. I'm so sorry if theres any mistakes.
The photoshoot set is loudâtoo loud, if anyone were to ask you.
Knowing one of the problems in this fic is exhaustion and mistreatment - I really love how this fic starts out. We start out overstimulated, exhausted, in a place too loud, and nobody gives enough of a shit to ask if our read reader is okay. It helps me understand where in the world the reader is at - where we find her in the story and how she's going to develop.
I know its just a sentence, but I think its a cool way to start off the story.
A persona raging with lustful eyes and dripping in confidence would make sales rocket, they praised, holding their breaths as they listened to your first playback. Embrace this mask on stageâitâll give you the courage you need to score big.
It's interesting we get a stage name for the read - I'm intrigued where this persona and development take us. Having an overtly sexual persona could mean a lot of different things for "rising star" artists
You were tired of itâtoo tired of it, if anyone asked you.
There could be entire commentaries built off of the way celebrities are treated - the way performers are treated with the rise of social media. People say they ask for it because they want to be famous, when all they want to do is perform in front of a bunch of people and go home. Performers, Idols, Actors, etc. have such harsh demands on them, I couldn't imagine the social / social media pressure of it all.
âSairen? Youâre telling me Jeonghan got Sairen onboard for our tour?â
This sets up for an interesting dynamic. I figured that it wouldn't be that big of a deal that she would be opening for them. However, it seems to be the opposite, especially with the fact they've never had an opener before.
I like how we get Jihoon's perspective too, I enjoy seeing what he has to say about the entire thing. How 'Sairen' is getting more famous than he could ever dream of at that age -how he can't fathom what she's done to get where she is. I like it, it sets up for an interesting dynamic when they finally meet. I can see why there will be tension throughout the fic.
Thereâs too much light pollution competing with the organic phenomena of the galaxy.
Jihoon purses his lips in thought. Humankind really knows how to fuck up natural beauties.
Absolutely intriguing quote, I'm this is going to be brought back - especially since it's already established the reader is absolutelt exhausted with the social pressures of the entire job.
CH33RS, a rock group that debuted barely two years ago. Composed of S.COUPS, HOSHI, and WOOZI, theyâve made an impressive dent in the K-rock world, hitting chart numbers you wouldnât think were possible in someoneâs early twenties
Wait I love the band composition. I didn't even think it would be composed of scoups, hoshi and woozi. I love it, and I'm so happy you incorporated their stage names in the fic. I also love the shout out to Ruby (one of my favorite Seventeen solos... I listen to her so many times its unbelievable)
âYou heard the man,â the makeup artist huffs. âStop moving and maybe Iâll actually get something done to make you look better.â
Look, I understand frustration but the makeup artist should be trained to deal with this?? It's not the artist's fault they are shitty at their job goddamn. I don't know treat them with a little respect. I'm so glad she stood up for herself. Im so upset at woozi though - I know its a bad look but you really think she'd yell at a staff member for no reason??
God, I just know Woozi is going to piss me off in the first half of this fic and I'm completely not prepared.
"You dictate that stuff. Your energy, your performance, it all comes down to you. Not some shabby company that uses you like a pawn.â
I do appreciate Joshua is somewhat on her side. I was super cautious at the beginning of this fic. It's probably pretty hard to be in a situation like this - managing an artist who is exhausted. I'm glad he's at least willing to shit talk the company. I'm going to hope that he's willing to put up little more than just shit talk in the future of this fic.
I still feel so bad for the humiliation she had to go through the whole MUA. Oh my god.
Jihoon knows he should apologize to you.
...
âYou know, Sairen was being mistreated first. They had the sound manager on their ass, and I heard from Jeonghan that their makeup artist wasnât the greatest to them, either. Cut them some slack, will you?â
I understand where Woozi is coming from - people shouldn't treat people rudely. In a perfect world, our reader wouldn't have treated the MUA like that - but in this same perfect world, the MUA wouldn't have treated the reader like that? People shouldn't expect others to allow mistreatment and horrific behavior.
If anything, Woozi should understand where she's coming from. I think it's probably a good idea to be like "hey this wasn't okay, but what you did in response wasn't great either". He shouldn't be doubling down and saying "well, what she did wasnt good". What she did was provoked, what the MUA did was provoke. I think theres levels to this interaction here omg.
Maybe Joshua was right; maybe you were doing well this time around, and this tour was going to be your key to stardom.
I do like how the reader has a level of pride with her. How she wants to do well, how being the secondary act can be difficult when rising to fame. All people who deal with this amount of attention has pride and I like how her struggle with it is at the fore-front of the fic.
âSee you after?â
Seeing how their relationship develops is so interesting. Everything is so awkward between them specifically because of what happened with that MUA. However, it seems like Woozi is trying to mend the bridge? Trying to make up for what happened to her?
At least, thatâs what you reason with yourself when your heart rate picks up at the sight of him.
hmmmmmm.... sure.... we can say that....
Itâs one of the earlier episodes, where Frieren is looking back on her memories with Himmel.
Oh I'm so happy, I wish I predicted it earlier when I saw the anime. But I was hoping that the reader and woozi would bond over it. Oh I love it.
âAbout thatâIâm sorry,â WOOZI breathes out. âCanât stand bullshit like that no matter who itâs from, and I didnât realize at the time that the staff member started it. I know it's super late and also probably an incredibly lame apology, but⌠I really admire you and your work, Sairen. I hope the rest of the tour goes well and that we can at least be cordial.â
Oh, the Seokmin reveal. I hope we get to see him in the fic again. I feel like its a fitting character for him to play.
Finally the apology came, after waiting for so long. It gets more awkward the more you put it off. But I'm glad the apology finally happened. I'm also glad they are finding they are a little more similar - they are defensive, like the same things, etc. etc.
You turn your attention back to the screen, watching the elf girl finally cave into her heartâs desires.
Better late than never.Â
Great scene choice for this conversation to take place in front of. I love the foreshadowing ~
âMy friend back there wanted to get some flowers as congratulations for⌠someone,â
I love all the member appearances in this fic. Vernon and Seungkwan dating, Minghao and Jun are together, the flower shop!Au come to life. Loving tatto artist minghao and flower shop owner Jun. Perfect fit for the both of them.
âThough,â he looks to the ceiling in mock thought. âWhat he said was true. Iâve seen the videos from last nightâs show. If you havenât gotten laid yet, thatâs a mistake on your part.â
oh? đ
He pauses, just slightly, and for a second you almost fool yourself into believing heâll give you a kiss on the forehead.
You wonder how his lips would feelâsmooth, like the petals of a magnolia from the tree in your childhood backyard?
OH? đ
âCrazy idea, but what if we got our noses pierced together?â
The manâs mouth moves in a mumble, clearly giving his response no thought. âMmm. Sure.â
Yes. Perfect. Completely platonic nose piercings. IT's 100% platonic, and nothing is intimate about getting matching piercings. Why did this man just say yes to whatever she says? Did you even comprehend it. The reader is not free from my judgement
"who else if not you?" is a crazy thing to say.
Wonwoo, thankfully, seems to be the complete opposite from his coworker. Wearing a simple sleeveless white tank and pierced with eyebrow studs, he stands up from his seat on a stool at your entrance.
Piercer!Wonwoo is actually insane too. Oh my god, I never knew I needed a piercer Wonwoo. Piercings suck though, truly. I enjoy that Mingyu is also here too. Everyone has their partner, their pairing. I'm waiting for Chan to show up.
In other news, Im so enjoying seeing the relationship develop between Woozi and the reader. How they are getting piercings together (choosing the same fucking piercing), watching shows together, getting a tattoo of that show. It all feels like its developing super casually but in a really intimate way? Maybe because they are on tour together, but I'm so intrigued on everything thats going on. I'm lazer focused rn
âWeâre home!â
SOONYOUNG THATS THE WORST TIMING EVER. TRULY. OH MY GOD??? GO AWAY, GO TO A DIFFERENT PLACE OR SOMETHING.
My eyes were wide? As soon as the reader was like "You kiss me and we can find out", my jaw dropped. They are both CRAZYYYY and I need them to finish this conversation ASAP and never take anything back ever. Wow, are you kidding me. This was an insane conversation to have.
"call me Jihoon, just jihoon". Yeah god, thank you jihoon - my knees are weak now. I appreciate you and your services.
âYouâre getting good at taking it!â
He⌠must not know what heâs saying anymore, you think as you choke on the liquid from his words. Dirty images flash through your mind, horrifying you to no end.
You and me reader, I only intrepreted it one way too. How in the world is there a non-dirty connotation to this ohrase. You are getting good at taking it? Jesus oh ym god.
âWaitââ Jihoon gasps, your name falling off his tongue in a plea that has your knees weak again. âWait, we canât. We canât.â
WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T??? YES YOU CAN? YOU ARE BOTH ADULTS
âJihoon,â you whimper into the darkness, lamp clicking off automatically from no movement sensed. âDid I do something wrong?â
âDo you not want me as much as I want you?â
:( you didn't girlie, I promise you.
Or, maybe, your anxiety murmurs, heâs so disgusted by you he doesnât even want to bring it up.
This entire section is making me go insane. I feel just as confused as the reader and I feel HORRIBLE for her. I might fight him if he's disgusted by her (He isn't), I will fight him for ignoring her. Crazy work to almost kiss her after asking her if she "really meant wanting to kiss him." TO BE FOUND WITH A GIRL IN A CLUB
JIHOON WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? WHY??
My heart hurts for her oh my god.
âThatâs notââ Jihoon clenches his jaw. âThatâs not why I did that.â
HE HOOKED UP WITH HER TOO? HE DIDNT DENY IT? Im in so much shock right now. I'm genuinely speechless right now? What did he think was going to happen? Just for Orlando? HUH? Just for Orlando?
What? Dude you are choosing the absolute WORST moment to be like "we should talk, but we shouldn't talk about how i hooked up with people when we obviously have a thing going". You are digging a hole deeper and deeper for yourself and it doesn't help you are DOING IT IN YOUR SHOW
âIâm not a tour date, WOOZI,â you spit. âIâm not just some random location you can think of and go, Oh, right, I visited that place. Iâm a person too. I have feelings. I thought you wouldâve known that by now, with those stupid memories we shared. I guess I was wrong.â
TITLE DROPPPPPPP I love when fics do this. Thank you, I love you forever. This was a crazy way to actually drop the title of the entire fic. Wow I'm so obsessed.
Its also insane that this is how they are reverting back to the Woozi of it all. She's no longer calling him Jihoon and she's no longer allowed to touch Woozi they way she used to. Wow, thats incredible, I LOVEE That wow.
âJihoon,â Seokmin grinned. âItâs okay. The contract isnât renewing. Go. Iâll always believe in you.â
The Seokmin backstory is like breaking my heart. I don't think I can do this and see him in pain oh my god. Seokmin deserves better than this holy shit. I hope he escaped.
âA hundred days, huh,â he mutters, following the staff to his dressing room. âYouâd think weâd have moved past square one at this point.â
I'm... so tired... I wonder whose fault this is. Yes, I blame you woozi. this is your fault
The man quietly observes you reaching out to outline the tattoo. His abdomen tenses at your touch, but he lets you continue your journey down his torso, silent awe in your eyes.
Somehow I knew the tattoo comment would lead us here and Im so glad that it did.
That conversation beforehand was killer, I almost wnated to slap woozi for apologizing through a door. I'm so glad the reader made him do it in front of her face. I hope we get the explanation about the women.... I also need the explanation on why he stopped kissing her - Im so confused. Was she drunk? Was he drunk? what wass ittttt
Just know,,, In this next section... I was blushing like a madman.
âThenâŚâ You swallow tersely, pain lacing your every word. âWhy did you sleep with that person? In Orlando?â
OH- we are doing it here? huh? theres a time and a place girl. That time and place was not AFTER YOU HAD SEX
Lee Chan. His name comes out quick and fast, and you study his profile from the website Joshuaâs got pulled up. Personal stylist,
My boy Chan finally joins as the last member to show up in this fic. I love it.
âThatâs it for tonight, guys,â you giggle. âDallas, Iâll see you tomorrow. Thereâs someone Iâve been meaning to introduce to yâall.â
ITS OVER! Wow, addicting fic. Truly, I literally could not stop scrolling through this entire fic. I LOVED it. I think Jihoon and the reader were written great
the overworked artist never got brought in as much as I thought it would, but I think it added to the overall story.
I really love how the fic was dictated by the tour dates. Everyone, instead of dates or days, went by the actual tour locations - ultimately referring everything that was going to happen with Woozi in Orlando and the tour. I really really loved that touch. It was genuinely such a cool addition to the fic.
I never really took in the fact that the entire fic revolved around the tour dates of the shows - and it all connected when the reader brought up only being a tour date. I was SHOCKED, like truly shocked to my core. I could go on forever and forever about how genuinely cool that touch was.
I like how Jihoon's avoidant tendencies, and being bad at words came about. How both the reader and Jihoon struggled with it - how the communication of the fic went around it.
I could truly go on forever about this fic. I'm so so happy I read this.
it's always been a nonsensical, silly dream of mine to have someone annotate my writing line by line.
josie.. u have made that dream come true. i want to give u a live reaction of what went down on discord when i realized that someone put love, time, n effort into showing appreciation for my fics (even tho i am so so so embarrassed abt it)
i hope u know i read thru everything with the biggest smile on my face n the giddiest swell of emotion bursting forth thru my chest. i love that u caught so many intentional plot points and put so many details together... i'm a huge sucker for fics that string and connect the tiniest of points,, and imagine my surprise when i got the notif that u did this for so many other fics, too!
pls know that u are a treasure to the writing and creating community in general. never stop with ur thoughts, with ur ramblings. they are so, so, so appreciated. i will be holding this entire post so close to my heart from now on. happy holidays, josie, and may good music find u always <3
To celebrate Christmas 2025, we decided that weâd host another Author Appreciation Event!
What that means, is that for the past two months, we had a form open for people to anonymously send notes of love and appreciation for k-pop authors on Tumblr.Â
We received many notes and fic recommendations from many lovely people, and, as promised, weâve compiled them into several posts based on alphabetical order.
We hope you enjoy reading the lovely notes and fics recommended below!
Appreciations for @memoiresofaneternaldreamer
âI have no words, that's how amazing your writing is. The way you write, ufff. The sentences deserve to be in literature books. I look forward to whatever you ever write, please know that your writing is so damn impactful, i sometimes highlight specific parts of them so that i can comeback and read them again and again.â
Recommended work by memoiresofaneternaldreamer
Two Sides of the Same Dog Tag
âRiot and Commander had the most insane chemistry going on there, the story was really raw and human, it captured how both MC s struggled in their own ways.Â
I wont go too much in details as it may spoil the story but oh god. Some parts of the story hurt so bad, i didn't cryâi bawled my eyes out. And yet they were both so amazing, i cant believe i read such a beautiful story. The ending scene was also so well written.â
Till Death Do Us Part
âno words, this shit was a whole meal, the tropes? arranged marriage? secret spies? work in agencies? oh man sign me the fuck up. Oh to read it again for the first time.â
Appreciations for @miabebe
âi haven't had the pleasure to properly introduced myself uet except for screaming in your askbox once or twice and a million times in your comments lol, but i really wanted to say this: iâm making my way through your entire seventeen masterlist, and i only have one fic left before i can start the camp series. iâve been putting that last fic on hold as iâm not in the right mindset yet, and i donât want to ruin the experience. i already know iâm going to love it, just like iâve loved everything iâve read from you so far. tbh, iâm going to be so sad once i eventually finish the whole masterlist đ iâm really glad i found your writing. i hope youâre doing well, taking care of yourself, and feeling a bit of joy today. wishing you a really lovely holiday season.â
âWe havenât spoken in a long time, but I remember having such fun conversations and brainstorming with you! Youâre lovely and your writing is incredible. I hope you come back to it soon, but if not, I still wish you the best! I hope you have a lovely holiday season and new year!â
âhi!! iâm a very very huge fan of camp seventeen and your reverse trope series!! everything is fantastic and i love your writing a lot, i hope youâre doing fineâ
Recommended work by miabebe
Accidentally Kidnapping A Mafia Boss
âtop tier!! I WILL NEVER SHUT UPâ
Too Many Beds
The Intruder's Eye
âthe plot twist in this is crazyyyyyâ
Anything and Always
âThis one, plus Seungcheolâs, and Joshuaâs ones in this trio of stories are so fucking good itâs unreal. I highly recommend all three to anyone who enjoys psych thriller fics!âÂ
Camp Seventeen
Appreciations for @milfgyuu
âI havenât read much of your work, but what I have read I have loved. I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and next year treats you well!â
Recommended work by milfgyuu
What's My Age Again?
âHands down my favourite Jun fic Iâve read so far. Itâs been a while since I read it (I should reread it soon) but I remember I found it hilariousâÂ
Lowlifes
âI loved and should really reread soon!âÂ
Vanilla
âA fun story to read!â
Appreciations for @miniseokminniesÂ
âI hope you have a lovely Christmas (or that time period if you donât celebrate) and next year treats you well!â
Appreciations for @minisugakoobies
âHave a happy Christmas. Merry Christmasâ
âI hope you have a lovely Christmas (or that time period if you donât celebrate) and next year treats you well!â
Recommended work by minisugakoobies
half past three
âhalf past three changed my lifeeeeeee. It was so messy and so good pls never stop. Applause.â
Appreciations for @missgraylock
âI hope you have a lovely Christmas (or that time period if you donât celebrate) and next year treats you well!â
Appreciations for @mr-cha-n
âI hope you have a lovely Christmas (or that time period if you donât celebrate) and next year treats you well!â
Recommended work by mr-cha-nÂ
Echoes of Summer
âA genuinely wonderful storyâ
Appreciations for @mylovesstuffs
âCELESTEEEE đ I donât even know how you do it. One day Iâm sobbing at how good you are how good you write and the next iâm WHEEZING at your tags. How are you simultaneously sheakspeare AND unhinged?? Your brain chemistry must be doing parkour. Anygays I just wanted to say youâre one of my favorite writers to have on my dash. Your writing is incredible ⨠immaculate â¨. I hope you have the happiest holidays and that your Joshua Hong behaves for once (he wonât)â
âMerry Christmas Celeste!!! English is not my first language but I will try to still write. I read your masterlist in two days and I STILL have new fics and reactions to read after a long week of work of 84 hours. I was in a bad place in September and I found myself rereading your masterlist. I found so much comfort in you. I hope you have a merry ChristmasâÂ
âYou, you little gremlin (affectionate) are one of my favourite people to talk to, even if you think otherwise. Youâre a wonderful writer, and an even better person and friend. I would never trade our friendship, not even to get my hands on one of my emotional support kpop boys. Give yourself more credit for your writing and ideas! I love you and hope you have a wonderful holiday season and next year is better than this one has been.â
âRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ONE OF THE BEST PEOPLE AROUND ON CARATBLR!!! the best editor i could ever ask for, and also such a wonderful, beautiful friend <33â
Recommended work by mylovesstuffs
"It's not cute"
disturbia
âThis is ongoing but goddamn I love it. Canât wait for more parts!â
if you'll have me
Appreciations for @nerdycheol
âraeeee baby, hi! i hope youâre doing well these days!! i also wanted to thank you again for always being so kind everytime we talked (ofc we fool around a lot tooâ), and it means more than you probably will ever realise. i really appreciate you for being you, and for the love you bring just by existing around my orbit. hope you have an amazing holiday season.â
Recommended work by nerdycheolÂ
Track Record
Appreciations for @nightshao
âTO MY FAVORITE MOOT! you never disappoint with every fanfic you write and i will always stand by that. you have this incredible gift of bringing stories to life so vividly that they live in our imaginations long after we finish reading and thats such a beautiful talent to have as a writer. im forever grateful that i messaged you after our little interaction when i reblogged your ff, because youve become one of the most wonderful people ive had the joy of being friends with. i love you with all my heart. were so, so happy to welcome you here on tumblr, and heres to many more beautifully written ffs to come from you.đâ
âa new seventeen writer!! you deserve more hype, yourâ works are awesome and you make the characters more real. i hope you like it in tumblr and continue to share your masterpieces!!â
Recommended work by nightshao
Ghost Bride
âi recommend ghost bride! i honestly thought they were an angst writer before this because the story was just that good beautifully written and painfully devastating in the best way. it hurt so good i swear i felt it in my bodyđšâ
The Mating Season Program
Appreciations for @nothoughtsjustfic
âcheeeee, my cutie, i love you lots. youâre really one of like top-tier, platinum-edition human i know. we just always spiral into our weird little brain corners together and somehow it always feels right to me. iâll be high and say the weirdest shit before dawn (my time) and youâll worry about my sanity and then just accept it XD ily. youâre forever my gremlin and i donât think i could ever realy show you how much i appreciate you being around me, and iâm grateful for you in ways that donât even have⌠words. thank you for being you in the unfiltered, hilarious, comforting, and weird in all the exact ways that match mine. love you to the moon, the sun, and whatever bizarre detours we end up taking in between.â
Recommended work by nothoughtsjustfic
To Love Is To Let Go
Worthless
Appreciations for @okiedokrie
âI am terrible at coming up with genuine things to say, but youâre such a wonderful and supportive person. Iâm really glad weâre friends despite the fact we donât talk that much. I donât know if you celebrate Christmas or not, but either way, I hope the season treats you well and that next year will be a better year full of love, happiness, and health!â
Appreciations for @onlymingyus
âI think you work really hard with everything you do and I think itâs incredible. I donât know if you celebrate Christmas, but I hope you have a wonderful time either way, and that the new year treats you well!âÂ
Recommended work by onlymingyusÂ
Somebody
âThis was such a great story, so well written! And DILF Seungcheol??? I donât think I need to say any moreâ
Appreciations for @onlyseokmins
âYouâre an absolute sweetheart and I hope your holiday season is as sweet as you.âÂ
Recommended work by onlyseokmins
$$60 billion
âThis story truly has a chokehold on me. I read it and immediately looked up Trigun and started to watch it. I think about this story probably at least once every other month and mean to reread it, I just have a low attention span and forget đ¤Ąâ
Appreciations for @ourdawnishotterthanourday
âI feel like I should really be able to write a whole essay here, but words fail me. I really do love you; youâre one of my favourite people even if youâre too busy with your real life and Iâm just a shit at staying in contact. I hope you find the time and energy to get back into writing in the new year; I know you miss it, and we miss you too. I love you and I truly hope that you have a wonderful Christmas.â
Recommended work by ourdawnishotterthanourday
F*ck My Thighs
âI think this was the first story I read of yours and I randomly think about it sometimes. I should really reread it but I keep forgetting đ¤Ąâ
RAW
âWe love FreakMin in this house!â
Appreciations for @pars-ley
âI don't have words for the amount of appreciation I have for you! I'm so happy we met and became friends, as well as fellow writers. So many ideas and ranting have been thrown around between us, and I want you to know that despite my ups and downs with writing, you've been a driving force in keeping me wanting to continue writing. I look forward to tons more brainstorming, and geeking out about our favorite guys. Happy Holidays and I appreciate you!đâ
Recommended work by pars-ley
When the leaves turn red
âI am recommending this because this is the first fic I read from her, and it hooked me. It's beautifully written and made me fall in love with less than 3k words. This is also the fic that broke the ice because I just had to gush about it to her, which started our friendship!â
Appreciations for @pr1nce-jm
âI hope you have a lovely Christmas (or that time period if you donât celebrate) and next year treats you well!â
Recommended work by pr1nce-jm
quality control
âSuch a sweet little storyâ
Appreciations for @ppyopulii
âhey jay!! we probably donât know each other super well yet, but i just wanted to say that i think youâre really cool and absolutely deadpan funny. you always make me laugh without even trying, especially in response to my anxious texts lol⌠i promise, i was being so serious when i said we donât have timeee! [i wont give any context]. please donât stress about classwork, i know youâll slay no matter what. hope you get a chance to relax a bit and enjoy the holidays too! happy holidays.â
âI hope you have a lovely Christmas (or that time period if you donât celebrate) and next year treats you well!â
Recommended work by ppyopuliiÂ
the study of prosody
âThis was a really lovely story to readâ
Thank you to everyone who sent in notes. Weâre really happy that you participated in this event and helped us to show appreciation for some of the wonderful writers of k-pop Tumblr this Christmas season!
please please please if you were one of the people who sent in a message to me, hop into my ask box. 𼚠this genuinely made me so happy to see and iâd love to reconnect and talk more!!
The lights are on. The crowd is waiting. The countdownâs over and the players are ready. 17 Seconds 2 Score kicks off with a full roster of thirteen athletes, thirteen sports, and one shared love for the game.
Each story takes you somewhere new: a different arena, a different rhythm, a different kind of race against the clock. From everything between hope and heartbreak, to victory and loss, 17S2S brings to you games thatâll have you on the edge of your seatâno matter if itâs the field, court, or track. Come join us for the tiebreaker marathon where the pressureâs high, the stakes are real, and sometimes, the heart is the biggest prize of all.
Airing between December 2nd and 9th!
Coaching committee : Jay ( @ppyopulii ), Hershey ( @junplusone ) and Calli ( @callisrecords )
READERSâ NOTICE:
Please note that some stories are rated 18+ for mature themes. Check each individual fic's rating and tags before reading. Support your favorite players responsibly, and remember to play fair and read safe.
THE LINEUP
title: Love! Set! Replay! ; brought to you by @nerdycheol
pairing: tennis players seungcheol x reader
wc: tbd
synopsis: Three years ago, Seungcheol walked out of your life without a word, leaving you with questions you never found answers to and a heart that never healed the same. You told yourself youâd moved onâthat you didnât need him, didnât miss him, didnât care. But now he is back, standing across the court as if nothing has changed, except everything has.
content warnings: tbd
đž watch highlights ! đžwatch the match !
title: your move ; brought to you by @ppyopulii
pairing: chess-player!yoon jeonghan x chess-player!reader
wc: 5k (est.)
synopsis: Yoon Jeonghan is determined to get your love life back on track. You, on the other hand, are more concerned with his insouciant behavior as the university chess teamâs Board #1, when the intercollegiate tournament is only a month away. He strikes a deal: download Serenity, Hybe Universityâs newest dating app, and he promises to talk to the coach about swapping your positions for the game. Your scoff, but the clock is ticking. His king is in your sights. Itâs your move.
content warnings: cursing, banter, do they love or hate each other?, this takes place in the hybehax universe!
âď¸ watch highlights ! âď¸watch the match !
title: Stretch, Hydrate, Fall in Love ; brought to you by @supi-wupi
pairing: prodigy figure skater!joshua x physical therapist!reader
wc: 4.4k
synopsis: Fluff, slow burn romance, sports AU (figure skating), trainer x athlete, mutual pining, contemporary, slice of life
content warnings: mild injury & recovery (physical therapy context), tension, light teasing
â¸ď¸ watch highlights ! â¸ď¸ watch the routine !
title: where we land ; brought to you by @vernonverse
pairing: taekwondoin!wen junhui x rhythm gymnast!reader
wc: tbd
synopsis: Four years after an almost career-ending injuryâand a heartbreak that never healedâyou, Chinaâs former rhythmic gymnastics prodigy, return for the Olympics and upcoming competitions. When budget cuts force you to train alongside Wen Junhui, your exâbest friend and ex-boyfriend, now Chinaâs Taekwondo golden boy, old wounds reopen.
content warnings: tbd
đĽ watch highlights ! đĽ watch the event/match!
title: the stubborn olympics ; brought to you by @hannieoftheyear
pairing: swimmer!soonyoung x journalist!reader
wc: 10k (est.)
synopsis: For the last issue of the year, the school's newspaper assigns each top writer a sport to cover for the end of the season. You're ready to impress everyone and to make your last article shine, until you have to follow the annoying swimming team's captain around so he accepts to give you an interview.
content warnings: they're stubborn and very annoying, virgin shaming, explicit smut, more tbd
đââď¸ watch highlights ! đââď¸ watch the event !
title: shoot your shot! ; brought to you by @heartepub
pairing: sport shooter!wonwoo x photojournalist!reader
wc: tbd
synopsis: itâs only ever been a crush: a pretty face to glimpse in the sidelinesâwhen not covered by the lens, that is. but when your photo of him at the olympics goes viral, wonwooâs teammates insist that itâs a sign. one drunken scheme and newly-bought camera later, he can only hope heâs as natural of a shooter here, too.
content warnings: tbd
đŤ watch highlights ! đŤ watch the event !
title: korigatachi. ; brought to you by @shinysobi
pairing: go game player! yn x manager! woozi
wc: tbd
synopsis: she's been playing the game since she was four years old, which means she's been playing it for twenty-four years now. she's tired, but when chaos comes walking into her life, hand-in-hand with danger, it bears a name: lee jihoon. and for once in her wretched life, she feels a spark behind her ribcage.
content warnings: detailed description of mental illness, violence, sexual content, alcohol consumption and smoking.
⍠watch highlights ! ⍠watch the game !
title: hors scène (off-stage) ; brought to you by @sknyuz
pairing: ballerina!xu minghao x ballerina!reader
wc: 10k (est.)
synopsis: you and xu minghao are the two best, most annoying rivals at lĂŠ diamant ballet academy, where minghao is the picture of pristine perfection demanded by the academy, earning him his ambassadorship. that image shatters when vernon drags you to an underground b-boy battle, where you discover minghaoâs explosive secret life hors scène. now, you hold the truth that could destroy his career. your rivalry gets messier when you are forced to partner for a critical pas de deux, where keeping his secret becomes the highest-stakes performance of all.
content warnings: tbd
𩰠watch highlights ! 𩰠watch the performance !
title: best served hot ; brought to you by @cheers-to-you-th
pairing: volleyball player!mingyu x reader
wc: tbd
synopsis: After three years away, you return to Seoul expecting the cold streets and quiet loneliness of winterânot the warmth of your grandmotherâs tiny jjigae restaurant waiting just as you left it. Youâre only back to help while she recovers, to keep the lights on and the broth simmering, but when the door swings open and Mingyuânow the star of Koreaâs top volleyball team and the same boy who once made you forget how to speakâwalks in like no time has passed at all, the past you thought youâd outgrown comes rushing back.
content warnings: tbd
đ watch highlights ! đ watch the match !
title: hung like a horse ; brought to you by @okiedokrie
paring: Horse Hybrid!Track and Field Athlete!Dokyeom x Trainer!Reader
wc: 10k (est.)
synopsis: Training your horse hybrid for his upcoming race is really difficult when you can't take the guy seriously. You don't really pray that he wins, only that he's normal on the day of the race. The only way to make the guy normal is to horse around with him.
content warnings: smut, horse puns, more tbd
đ watch highlights ! đ watch the event !
title: match point ; brought to you by @callisrecords
pairing: badminton player!seungkwan x f!reader
wc: 25k (est.)
synopsis: When a burst pipe leaves national athlete Boo Seungkwan temporarily homeless, the universe decides to have a laugh and send him to the one person heâs been too busy to seeâhis best friend. What shouldâve been an easy, familiar arrangement turns strangely complicated; between his chaotic training schedule and the small ways you keep circling each other, nothing feels as simple as it used to. Living together blurs lines youâve never questioned before. There's a net neither of you have crossed, but maybe it's time to break the match point.
content warnings: rough language, slowburn, they're idiots in love?, banter more tbd
đ¸ watch highlights ! đ¸ watch the match !
title: baby steps ; brought to you by @studioeisa
pairing: chwe hansol x rock climbing instructor!reader
wc: tbd
synopsis: much like every twenty-something-year-old going through a life-changing breakup, vernon has done it all. a marathon? check. a solo trip to japan? check. none of it has helped. there's still a void in his heart that's the shape of his ex-girlfriend. in a ditch attempt to hashtag heal, vernon signs up at your climbing gym. surely this would have no repercussions whatsoever!
content warnings: tbd
đ§ââď¸ watch highlights ! đ§ââď¸ watch the event !
title: off season ; brought to you by @mylovesstuffs
pairing: baseball player!lee chan Ă fem!reader
wc: tbd
synopsis: every summer, the hometown baseball field feels smaller â but when lee chan comes back, it somehow lights up again. youâve known chan since you were kids; he was the boy who lived down the street. he was the one who taught you how to throw a proper curveball and who swore heâd make it to the big leagues one day. years later, he did. now, heâs home for the first time in years: tired, bruised, and different. his teammates see him as the golden ticket, but to you, heâs still the boy who used to call your name across the field. thereâs just one problem â he didnât come back alone.
content warnings: tbd
everyone here on the team is so excited to finally share with you sports fans <3 it's been one hell of a ride but seeing 13 people come together for this little project has truly made my year. we hope you enjoy the games as much as we did while planning them! :)
and psst... just a little update on the hiatus.... days left until december 9th: 24!
sorry to like, break character haha. i know im usually a lot more chipper and happier and more joyful than this, in general.
for personal reasons i will be going on an indefinite hiatus. i am, unfortunately, dropping out of all collaborations iâve signed up for and taking a step back to nurture & grow & heal.
thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my works. and thank you, so so much, to all my mutuals who iâve had the pleasure and honor of talking to. i adore all of you and it pains me to have to leave like this for now, but i genuinely, um, do not know when a good time for me to come back will be,,
as always. i hope good music finds you all, forever, and that it endlessly follows you into new chapters. <3
Not that anybody asked, but I think it's important to understand how shame and guilt actually work before you try to use it for good.
It's a necessary emotion. There are reasons we have it. It makes everything so. much. worse. when you use it wrong.
Shame and guilt are DE-motivators. They are meant to stop behavior, not promote it. You cannot, ever, in any meaningful way, guilt someone into doing good. You can only shame them into not doing bad.
Let's say you're a parent and your kid is having issues.
Swearing in class? Shame could work. You want them to stop it. Keep it in proportion*, and it might help. *(KEEP IT IN PROPORTION!!!)
Not doing their homework? NO! STOP! NO NOT DO THAT! EVER! EVER! EVER! You want them to start to do their homework. Shaming them will have to opposite effect! You have demotivated them! They will double down on NOT doing it. Not because they are being oppositional, but because that's what shame does!
You can't guilt people into building better habits, being more successful, or getting more involved. That requires encouragement. You need to motivate for that stuff!
If you want it in a simple phrase:
You can shame someone out of being a bad person, but you can't shame them into being a good person.
CARATBLR artist PPYOPULII will be on hiatus starting next month. PPYOPULII is set to go inactive on September 5th and plans to return the following month's start on October 4th. They are scheduled to release an update for saved to library: seventeen along with their ongoing series, HYBEHAX as their last activities before hiatus.
We encourage you to continue to show love to other artists during this time in CARATBLR by reblogging, commenting, and liking their releases. Thank you.
yadda yadda, life happens stuff like that. with the start of the semester (and my inevitable yearly crash-out) i believe it's definitely needed for me to take a step back and focus on the chaos that is my life atm. also i need to go into hibernation for howoo enlistment because i don't think anyone will be able to hold me back from crashing out even further.
thank you all for your continued support, and may good music find you today!
i sincerely apologize for not getting to post HYBEHAX before break. itâll hopefully be sometime during my hiatus, but unfortunately i cannot guarantee it.
thank you again for your support and all your lovely messages. they mean more to me than you know đ¤ may good music find you all today, and i hope you let yourself sing along, if you so wish :)
pros of going on hiatus: u get to meet the one and only @junplusone who u are the biggest fan of and if there are no more junplusone fans that means ur no longer on this earth
cons of going on hiatus: u forget to write hybehax. iâm so sorry guys
CARATBLR artist PPYOPULII will be on hiatus starting next month. PPYOPULII is set to go inactive on September 5th and plans to return the following month's start on October 4th. They are scheduled to release an update for saved to library: seventeen along with their ongoing series, HYBEHAX as their last activities before hiatus.
We encourage you to continue to show love to other artists during this time in CARATBLR by reblogging, commenting, and liking their releases. Thank you.
yadda yadda, life happens stuff like that. with the start of the semester (and my inevitable yearly crash-out) i believe it's definitely needed for me to take a step back and focus on the chaos that is my life atm. also i need to go into hibernation for howoo enlistment because i don't think anyone will be able to hold me back from crashing out even further.
thank you all for your continued support, and may good music find you today!
PREVIEW. Itâs sheepish, the way he grinsâso boyish you almost donât berate the school girl giggle that falls out of you in response. He takes a slow sip of his iced americano, the ice long gone, and gives the cup a couple of swirls.
FEATURING. lee seokmin x gn!reader
GENRE(S). open-ended, fluff, pining
LENGTH | WC. 1.79k | <15min
TAGS | EXPLICITS. unbetaâd! we die like howoo stans on september 15&16, flower symbolization, kim chaewon makes an appearance | slight insecurities? miscommunication
JAYâS MUSINGS. to lee seokmin, who's goal to always bring sunlight never fails. my words escape me this time of year, so i truly hope this fic suffices; seokmin, never let anyone tell you otherwise that you are truly seventeen's happy virus.
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE. saved to library: seventeen // oh my! by seventeen // take a chance with me by niki // buttons by lyn lapid // questionnaire by fig // sunflower by rex orange county // honey by coastal club
Another day, another vase of flowers on your desk.
Today itâs pink hyacinths with sage leaves as filler. The fragrance is sweet, innocent; it leaves your heart racing and palms sweaty with nervosity.
You slide off your workbag and take a seat in your cubicle, fingertips reaching out to brush over the petals. Theyâre fresh from the florist, not yet dampened by the officeâs stuffy air and artificial lights. The rosy gradient grows stronger, more vibrant, towards the center of each flower, and the curve of your lips deepens as your eyes catch the sticky note plastered on the marbled counter.
Hyacinths can symbolize a range of emotions based on color.
Pink brings joy and affection; it mirrors what I feel for you, every day.
âyour happy virus :)
Chaewon, your coworker, peers over at you from her place across your workstation. She smirks and pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, flicking away at stray baby hairs.
âHappy virus strikes and lands yet again,â she snickers. You throw her a nasty side eye.
Carefully, with the caution of a newborn baby deer, you move the glass vase to a safer position on your desk. The sticky note is placed on a little cork board youâve set up in the corner, accenting the other tiny reminders that help you through your tiring shifts.
Your colleague is still looking at you for a confirmation that sheâs right with her words. Irked, you harumph, pouting and pointedly ignoring her stare as you log onto your computer to start the day.
Even if you donât verbally admit it, itâs trueâhappy virus, whoever they are, lives up to their name in making warmth spread contagiously from their soul to yours. For over a week now theyâve left fresh flowers every morning, sometimes accompanied by your favorite morning drink and those damned pick-me-up notes.
And for over a week, youâve been too scared to try and unravel the mystery of who your secret admirer is.
Chaewonâs convinced that itâs someone from the IT department, remarking how that one technician is always making excuses to sneak into financeâs office and respond to your tickets. You, unpertrubed, waved her off every time and insisted heâs merely doing his job. You werenât interested in strking up any kind of workplace romance, anyway.
âGood morning!â Someone chirps cheerfully, passing by your station and sending you a beaming smile.
Your breath hitches. Okay, maybe there was some interest.
Lee Seokmin fiddles with his clipboard as he moseys on over to talk with Yoon Jeonghan, the CEOâs financial secretary. The formerâs thrown you a glance that he seems to want to keep secret, bashfully nodding with a smile that lights every wickered candle of hope in your heart.
You wish for the ground to swallow you whole when Chaewon only shakes her head from across you. âStaring doesnât make it any less obvious. Just letting you know.â
Scoffing, you turn back to your monitor, clicking to get rid of all the bothersome spam emails in your inbox before you can get distracted any further than you already are.
âChaewon,â you start.
She hums noncommittally, typing away at her keyboard; Lee Seokminâs now walking briskly back towards the door, seemingly eager to get back to his station in marketing. To your wonder, he gives you another glance as he goes on by, grinning that stupid grin of his and waving his fingers in greeting. You donât have time to react before heâs gone and out of your sight.
Sighing, you rest your chin in your palm, completely forgetting about the pile of tasks sitting in your to-do list for today in favor of gossiping with your coworker. âDo you think Lee Seokmin from marketing is seeing anyone?â
Your colleague makes a face. âHow would I know? As far as I know, heâs only got eyes for Secretary Yoon.â
âYouâre insufferable to talk to.â
âLikewise,â she singsongs, and you know the conversation is over for now.
When lunch rolls around, you take your break in the rundown family cafe just down the street. Youâve been here countless timesâseen the highschool teenager behind the counter with numerous dyed hair colors until one day they settled on a natural brown, and then one day didnât show up at all. The elderly woman who youâve seen more times than you can keep track of gives you that all familiar smile when you step in.
Yes, youâve been here so many times you can meander around with your eyes closed.
So why is it that today, out of all days, something rings different?
Lee Seokmin sips a latte from his place by the window. Your heart hammers in your chest, not quite knowing where to go; usually, youâd sit in the cushioned bar stool right next to where he currently sits, taking the time to escape from work via people-watching.
Now though, as you wait for your order to be readied, you slide into one of the booths farthest in the corner of the cafe, nerves tingling with energy you aren't quite ready to face yet.
Heâs just someone who works at the same company as you, you try to argue with yourself. He probably doesnât even remember you. Get a grip.
And it has to be trueâother than the fleeting, blinding smiles and quips of greetings he gives you, you two have never had a proper conversation. Lee Seokmin was just a work crush, and an unrequited one at that. You steel yourself.
So lost in thought, you donât hear the soft, gentle calls of your name until a steaming beverage is placed in front of you on the counter. You snap your head up, a profuse apology for the elderly barista already spilling from your lips, and Lee Seokmin just stares at you with something akin to wonder in his eyes.
âHi!â Without another word, he slides into the boothseat across from you, tilting his head and saying your name once more. âYouâre from finance, right? I see you all the time when I go to report to Jeonghan-hyeong.â
Dumbstruck, your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you try to come up with a response. The roof of your mouth is dry, and to cure your thirst, you take a swig of your drink, trying to ignore how the heat bites at your gums.
The man must take your silence as confirmation to continue. He scratches the nape of his neck, looking away from where youâre licking your lips free of the liquid thatâs spilled out of your cup.
âIâm Lee Seokmin,â he chuckles, albeit a little hastily. âFrom marketing. Itâs nice to finally get a chance to talk to you one-on-one after so many simple greetings.â
Gulping down the piping hot liquid, you stammer out a very elegant, âNice to meet you, too.â
His smile spreads so wide you have no other option but to match it. When Lee Seokmin talks, he raps his knuckles against the wood of the table, a mesmerizing, fast rhythm that does nothing to slow the beat of your heart.
Itâs like thereâs a secret he knows that you donât, because he suddenly leans forward and very eagerly asks, âDo you bring those flowers to work every week?â
Goosebumps spread across your skin. He paid enough attention to notice the flowers your admirer gave you every week?
You avert your eyes from his seeking gaze. âNo, theyâre⌠presents.â
âPresents?â
âYes.â A tinge of embarrassment slips out of you before you can stop it. âFrom an anonymous sender. I donât know who it is.â
Lee Seokmin sits back. You see his adamâs apple move roughly in a swallow, and wonder what heâs thinking.
His change in demeanor almost worries you when he goes to question you again. âDoes it bother you? The flowers?â
At this, you perk up immediately, waving your hands frantically. âNo, no! Theyâre lovely. I just wish I knew who it was⌠you know?â
The bell to the front door chimes, indicating a new customer entering the cafe. Neither you or Lee Seokmin pay them any mind. Eyes fixated on the man, your shoulders loosen in time with his as he practically slumps in relief.
âThatâs good,â he murmurs, more to himself than you; then, he straightens his posture and throws you another beaming smile. âHas your secret admirer managed to guess your favorite flower yet?â
You shake your head, lips curling in amusement. âHow would they even know my favorite flower?â
âYou never know.â He gives a nonchalant shrug. âMaybe theyâre someone close to you. You mightâve told them and theyâre just waiting for the perfect time to give them to you.â
Lee Seokminâs eyes widen as you throw your head back and laugh. Itâs clear and bright and rivals his smile. âYouâre sure rooting for this secret admirer of mine.â
Itâs sheepish, the way he grinsâso boyish you almost donât berate the school girl giggle that falls out of you in response. He takes a slow sip of his iced americano, the ice long gone, and gives the cup a couple of swirls.
âWhat is your favorite flower, then?â He throws the question to you instead of responding to your prior remark, but you catch it easily.
Smoothly, you twirl an abandoned stirrer in your fingers. âSunflowers.â
He gives a little nod, as if satisfied by your answer, and the conversation flows further from there. You learn this is his third time at the cafe, and that his roommate has a cute little white dog named Bookkeu. Lee Seokmin insists you refer to him informally, but ever so stubborn, you refuse to relentâeven as you two are walking out the door of the cafe and back into the confinements of corporate policies.
âIâll see you around?â He tilts his head towards you.
Itâs usually a statement said between friends, but he phrases it as a hopeful question you long to soothe over with reassurance. Smiling, you give him a tiny wave as you step out of the elevator, contentment curling in your chest as you turn to him like a sunflower to the sun.
âI promise you will. See you soon!â
And needless to say, the next week, when the sunflowers arrive tied neatly with a ribbon of your favorite color, you make sure to keep your word. The sticky note is left fluttering in the wind as you leave the office suite, Chaewon smirking as she leans over to read it.
Sunflowers turn towards the sun no matter where it goes to soak in their warmth.
I only hope youâll let me do the same with you, after our conversation last week.
âyour happy virus :)
hi. wanted to put a psa out there that my blog is a safe space; while mistakes are always made & we as humans will inevitably fuck up time and time again, there is always room to grow here. i know that firsthand. furthermore, no unreasonable hate towards anyone will ever be tolerated. my inbox is always open, and i will always do my best to respond to asks in a timely manner (amidst the hell that is life).
take care. i hope good music finds you today. âĄĚ