all things considered, zhengting thinks he’s pretty lucky. he hasn’t messed up on stage yet, hasn’t stumbled over his lyrics, and hasn’t gotten his ass kicked for being a lil bitch—that’s all good in his books. but then, as fate would have it, he runs into @rkhyun on the rooftop. now, the two of them… he wouldn’t call them close, but they’re far from acquaintances, seeing the proximity of this group. they haven’t spoken much, and though that didn’t bother zhengting at first, it’s starting to feel strange.
“hey.”
it’s so awkward that he considers leaving, but a part of him knows leaving would just make whatever they have between them ( which is not much at all ) worse. so he stays and takes up the space next to the railing, leaning over just a bit to see the city below.
then, out of nowhere, he asks, “did i do something to offend you?” since y’know, at this point, it’s usually zhengting.
“who are you?” he blurts, even though he already has an idea. it’s not, by any means, a great idea -- but he thinks he knows his friend well enough by now to make some assumption.
he eyes the guy ( he can’t help it ). tallish, rather distinctive features, though less broad in the shoulders compared to the ex. his grip tightens around the plastic bag in his left hand -- leftovers from the dorms, he’d say. it’s enough for two, and that does not include this man right here.
“is ten home?”
he debates leaving. clearly, the air of awkwardness is already filtering between him and @sichengrk -- any longer would make it unbearable. but he needs to see ten in person ( he should’ve called first, stupid, stupid ).
“i’m a friend.” he adds this a beat later, just in case.
[ tw: mentions of physical & mental abuse, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of weight ]
being held by someone, especially zhengting, makes this all feel a whole lot less scary. it’s as though, without arms around him at that moment, he might shatter into teeny tiny pieces like delicate glass. start from the beginning, zhengting asks, and yet ten isn’t even sure where the beginning is. is it back home, in thailand, with his dad, older brother and stepmother making his life hell, or was it when he became a trainee, or maybe when he was chosen for spheres, at the time, unnamed boy group?
[ --- ]
zhengting really hates himself. it doesn’t come from lower self-esteem, no, not this time. he hates himself, because he listens unbiased, unwavering; he holds himself strong, holds himself upward, since that’s what’s needed from him right now. and he hates this, all of this, because he doesn’t break when he hears about ten’s childhood -- but he does when he hears about ten sleeping around. of everything that’s been said, of everything he should’ve felt more compassionate and empathetic for, his chest chooses to clench at the words sleep around.
why?
he dwells in guilt, drenches himself with mental pinches to wake up, WAKE UP. and he does, temporarily. his hold on ten tightens as he continues to listen, tightens more as he tries to simply comprehend. it’s a lot. it’s a lot more than what he expects from ten, what he expects from this friendship, actually. the first time they’d had met, years and years ago when they were shy of twelve, ten was chipper then. chipper, adventurous, full of energy and excitement. as time went on, his perception of ten had never changed. sure, they’ve been through various ups and downs, that just comes with being friends with someone for this long, but ten has always been... well, not like this.
“i’m glad.”
the words escape him without initial thought. he doesn’t know what else to say. so for a moment more, he sits there with his arms still tight -- perhaps too tight -- around ten. he thinks of what he can say, how he can express these feelings that weigh down his heart, his soul even. in the end, he settles with what’s on his mind. it all condenses into a single factor, a single streamline concept:
“i’m glad you told me.” i’m glad you trusted me enough to. “and i’m glad you’re doing better.”
he finds his fingernails digging into ten’s arms once more, and only then does he realize how tightly he’s been holding on -- how suffocating it must be for ten ( and yet, how warm ). it comes with hesitation, but he finally lets go. he finally lets his hands trail back to ten’s shoulders, so he can push himself away. but not too far, never too far. just---just far enough to see ten’s face.
“you look good. better. squishable.” he pats ten’s cheek, then gives it a rather hard pinch. tough love, he calls it. “ you know i’m here for you, right? always. can’t believe you went through all of that without telling me.” and then quieter: “but i understand why.” they’re friends, they’re close, but this is a level of closeness that’s beyond what they once were. that, and because he’s nearly certain that it’s because ten doesn’t want to burden him.
ah, yes.
“i mean it, though.” still quiet, still gentle. “i’ll always be here. so whatever you’re going through, i’m -- i’ll be here. anytime.” a pause, rather long. “so what’s... what’s going on now? are you doing okay? not like, in general. but tonight.”
Migraines? This he could handle. No, what he got was worse than a migraine. It made having a migraine look like a walk in the park. Every time these headaches came on his whole body would ache as if he were burning from the inside out. He could hardly focus on the outside world, instead consumed by the pain and agony.
Suddenly, there was a rattling that pierced his eyes, hurting him even more and he groaned as he held his head, comvering his ears. He no longer cared how he looked. He just wanted the pain gone. His eyes had not opened since he had closed them long ago, as if the darkness was somehow helping him.
When he finally opened his eyes to see what the rattling was, he was greeted with a bottle of pain killers and Zhengting holding it. He couldn’t even force a smile since he was sure it would come out as a grimace so he simply took the bottle and downed probably more tablets than he should have. These headaches were the kind you had to wait out, but medicatio sometimes helped.
❝ Thanks, ❞ he spoke horsely. He closed his eyes again as he cradled his head. ❝ It’s just a headache that sets my whole body on fire. It’s nothing to worry about. ❞
“whoa, whoa, whoa -- you can’t -- wait, that’s---”
he panics, because that is more than the recommended amount. he panics, because ‘whole body on fire’ sounds like something sungmin should be in the hospital for. he panics, because he's not sure what to do. should he call for an ambulance? sungmin doesn’t sound like he needs one, nor has he asked for one.
“what do you mean it’s on fire? do you -- should we---we should get you to the hospital.” for a moment too long, he doesn’t move; he allows his words to linger in the air, almost as if he’s prompting sungmin to give him permission---permission to do what, exactly?
“you will burn all the calories before it’s time to eat dinner,” he nods, jaehyun who had been an athlete all his life knew a healthy diet was important but also knew what not eating could do to a body, “you’ll be a bigger annoyance if you don’t eat and go hungry for the rest of the shoot,” he nods as he eats a part of the sandwich that had been lying there waiting for him, “stop making excuses for yourself and just eat.”
he recalls, quite vividly, a time when his mother smacked the back of his hand and told him to behave. he’s older than you, she snipped, you do not speak to him like that, even if he is wrong. and from that point on, it’s been instilled in zhengting that those who’re born first deserve more respect, regardless of how they act and how they treat those beneath them. he’s bowed his head to the unworthy and bitten his tongue whenever they’d spew lies -- and as such, he expects those younger than him to do the same.
( he keeps telling himself that it doesn’t matter, that it shouldn’t matter; but truth is, he’s not as progressive as he wants to be. )
it irks him just a bit, because jaehyun’s right. he knows he’s right, but hearing the younger telling him to do something -- it doesn’t sit well. at first, zhengting keeps his mouth shut, his fingers toying with the side of the sandwich that looks somehow less appetizing than before. then, all of a sudden, they still.
“you do realize i’m older than you, right?” he looks over at jaehyun. of course, he realizes. the other has called him hyung before. “saying that i’m an annoyance... or implying that i can become an annoyance doesn’t come across as respectful, even if you use formalities.”
when the lunch break rolled around, seonghwa was ready to take a nap. the first thing he did was take a seat next to zhengting. it had been a busy morning, up bright and early at 4am. “how’s the day going for you?” seonghwa wasn’t that hungry, all he had in front of him was a bottle of water. “getting up at four am, it shouldn’t feel this hard seeing what our training was like.” it wasn’t as if he hadn’t woken up this early before.
“recording a music video is something different.” that was the only way he could explain it, it felt like it drained him just a little more. “that being said, it’s been a pretty fun time.” he was tired but it was rewording and he’d enjoy all of his memories later. “right now though? i’m just ready to sleep.”
“yeah,” zhengting says, mindlessly almost. he doesn’t disclose how he didn’t even get sleep the night prior and how the makeup artist, poor soul, berated him for having eye bags. “it’s exhausting.”
he feels closed off -- as if his brain had shut down, and he’s desperately grappling to stay awake; but the odd thing is, he’s not even tired. he’s wide awake, his heart thundering away for no precise reason. his fingers curl around his drink, his grip tightening as he tries to quell the jitters that have taken over.
“do you ever think about it?” he starts a moment later, slower. “whether or not we’d be hated by the fanbase? since we replaced a lot of their favorites.” it’s a completely different topic but one that’s been on his mind for a while now.
it was finally that time of the day, lunchtime– jaehyun could feel his stomach growling slightly as he looked at the food that had been prepared. next to him, however– he noticed someone that didn’t seem excited about food, more stressed and fidgety than anything, “hyung?” he looks over at zhengting, lifting his brows curiously as he watches the older pace. he felt the stress build up in himself just by looking at him– “lets eat…” he suggested but before the words could register with zhengting the older had already pushed his lunch over to jaehyun.
‘still growing?’
jaehyun slowly starts eating his own lunch but he keeps an eye on the older, wondering what is bothering him, then he sees him– attempting to the staff clean and jaehyun sighs. he finishes his bite, stands up and walks over to where the other is just as he starts cleaning, “what are you doing?”
it was confusing for him to watch the older– but he was aware of how rigid and stressed he could get, that he knew from the time they had practiced together for aju nice, zhengting was the complete opposite of jaehyun. or at least, jaehyun didn’t fidget as much as the older did, even if he was stressed he usually managed to stay calm and think rationally… something zhengting seemed to lack– “it’s lunch, you need to eat.”
he tries to play it off with a simple, “i’ll eat later.” the only problem with playing it off like this is there is no later until dinner. physically, he’d be starving by that point and would, subsequently, get grouchy. and grouchy zhengting is not too far off from stressed zhengting -- both nearly always resulting in him saying a few harsh words that are better left for quiet dorm banters.
but he cannot bring himself to eat, lest stay still, for that matter. “what are you doing?” he asks, turning the question back on the younger. “you need to eat.” -- too is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t tack it on; he doesn’t want any verbal confirmation that he agrees with jaehyun, even though he does wholeheartedly.
“don’t worry about me.”
he continues scrubbing away at the chair. “did they not think this through?” he mutters. “mustard and ketchup... that’s just creating unnecessary work for themselves. can’t imagine how we’d actually look on screen. probably ridiculous, or like kids with no self-control.” they’re thoughtless murmurs, here to fill the space, so he doesn’t have to acknowledge the stress that’s still gnawing at his core.
and then his stomach growls.
he stops, then sighs, pushing himself up to full stance. “okay. i’ll eat.” he doesn’t know if he’s telling that to jaehyun or himself, but he does find himself back at the table, sitting in front of the plate that he’s so graciously pushed over. and he doesn’t eat. his stomach churns, and he lets it. “this isn’t healthy,” he comments, gesturing at the food. “too many calories for the weight they want us at.” and now he’s just making excuses.
his jaw tightens as he grits his teeth together. there’s too many things for him to progress at once.on one hand he wants to punch zhengting, on the other he wants to cling to him and beg him not to go. rationally speaking he know he doesn’t have the right for either though. alas he stands rooted in his place, paralyzed by the situation and his hands shaking as his fingers clench and un-clench themselves.
“bullshit-,” he can’t help but utter in response to him wanting to make the couple more comfortable. “you don’t… want to be here cause it hurts and I get that- but don’t make this about us being uncomfortable, don’t you dare turn this around and make it look like you’re doing us a favor,” he spits, voice hoarse as he tries to keep his own emotions at bay.
he tugs off his glasses in a rush while his thumb and index finger furiously rub at his eyes. he can’t cry again. he’s so fucking tired of crying. “do you really think you’re doing me a favor by lea-,” he can’t even speak the word out without choking up. swallowing heavily he feels a new surge of anger boil up. they’ve been over this, zhengting knew exactly what he was going through, from his fear of being left behind when all of his friends were tugged into a group just after he had finally managed to catch up to them again. he had made himself vulnerable and opened up to zhengting and yet here he was, doing exactly what jeongguk admitted to fearing the most.
“what am i supposed to do, stay and suffer?” the question leaves him before he can even fully comprehend it. he stares at jeongguk, his brow furrowed, his expression pinched in disbelief. the guilt he had harbored a mere minute before has now dissipated into fits of unfiltered turmoil. “this isn’t about how you feel,” he snaps. “this isn’t about you.”
except it is. it has always been about jeongguk. ever since he realized what he felt toward the other was more than what he should feel, his perspective began to change. slowly but surely, he started doing things that were outside of his usual character: staying up those late hours so jeongguk didn’t have to drink on his own. chasing jeongguk wherever he went, whenever he went, just to drag him back home. even pausing outside his room every so often, hesitant to enter, but always listening to make sure jeongguk wasn’t crying alone.
all he did, he did for him.
and that includes leaving.
“you don’t know what this feels like. you’ll never know, ‘cause you always get what you want. you have this . . . fucking place. you have money. you have people who care for you---more than you’ll ever know. you have things, jeongguk.” he knows he shouldn’t have brought up money, shouldn’t have dragged in other people, because this isn’t about any of that. it’s about them. but with his mind ablaze and his tongue on fire, he can’t stop himself. “all i want right now,” he begins again, quieter this time, his voice cracking, “is you . . . and i can’t have that, can i?”
the picture crumples in his fist, but he doesn’t throw it away. he can’t throw it away.
“i’m begging you.” his lips quiver as he drops to a mere whisper. “please, can’t i be selfish like you for once?”
without names, there’s no way he could have known. that particular private detail had never been uttered between them when they spoke of infatuations and warm feelings inside them before, voices hushed low so jeongguk wouldn’t hear. maintaining that bit of confidentiality took away any fears of the truth somehow slipping, granting them the reassurance that their secrets would stay safe with each other and with themselves. jeongguk would never know because zhengting and jimin didn’t know.
never did it occur to him that their feelings could be about the same person. blind to it, jimin had told zhengting he hoped that the younger and jeongguk could be happy together, that zhengting wouldn’t know unless he took a chance. he had genuinely wished for zhengting’s feelings to be returned, that jeongguk — his boyfriend — would love him back.
it’s all too much. he can’t take it. he’s stunned, can’t process anything anymore beyond the wave of nausea and denial that crashes over him.
he collapses into sobs, apologies streaming from his lips.
no, you’re not. he wants to say. you’re not sorry. in the end, he chose you. in the end, you won. these are the thoughts that plague his mind in darkened flurries -- thoughts he’d never thought he’d surrender himself to. he’s never been the kindest person, but he’s always been fair, he’s always been reasonable. when others are distraught, he’s the eye of the storm, the calm center that draws everyone inward, warming them from the cold that persists. not once has he ever been the storm itself.
“i’m---”
sorry?
is that what he wants to say? or does he feel inclined to say that, because that’s what a good person would say? it burdens him -- this heavy feeling in his chest, the fire that blooms into his fingertips, which are now clawing into jimin’s shirt, into jimin’s skin. he holds on tight, tighter than he’s ever held onto anyone. it’s not out support, not out of chivalry for their shared heartache. no, it’s something nastier. foul. abhorrent. he clings to jimin, so jimin can feel him. feel how frustration burns him, how resentment thunders with each heartbeat. feel what he has done---
had he been the one who was chosen, jimin would be in his exact position. he had no doubt that jimin -- sweet, kind-hearted jimin -- would also feel a bit betrayed. this is all circumstantial, and in thinking about it, it’s probably best that this is the final result. he knows that he’d be okay in just a few weeks, but jimin would’ve taken longer. that’s how he sees it. jimin needs more, and it’s for this reason that zhengting feels protective over him. it’s a strange, strange feeling, considering jimin is older -- but look at them now: who’s holding who? who needs reassurance?
“it’s -- don’t. it’s not your fault. you . . . didn’t know.”
he chokes back a sob as the realization hits him at long last. and what an awful realization it is -- he’s always been second choice. the people he’s dated, those he’s chased after -- they only reciprocated because they were lonely. and because he’s always been there as the person to lean on, the shoulder to cry over, it’s natural to fill that gap. jeongguk is no different. for him, it’s jimin. it has always been jimin. he had no chance to begin with. this, he should’ve known.
“‘m sorry,” he mutters into jimin’s ear. “don’t let this -- let me -- get in the way of your . . .” happiness.
when did he become this sort of person? someone who wanted to see others fall? no---he’s resentful, agonized beyond reason, but he won’t let himself stand between people. jimin and jeongguk are his friends. no matter what, he can’t bring himself to be any more vile. his grip loosens, and his forehead falls against jimin’s shoulder. he caves, like always. “you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “it’ll work out.” defaulting to reassurance, that’s what he’s always been good at.
silence lingers for a moment more. his heart slows, his eyelids fluttering shut. it’s then that he asks gently, quietly:
to no one’s surprise, zhengting is stressed. again. a single peek at this month’s schedule had sent him spiraling into fits of hyperventilation -- all of which led to frantic pacing wherever deemable. unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for some, the restaurant they’re all situated in isn’t big enough for him to walk about in circles, at least, not with it filled to the brim with the film crew and fellow group members. ( surely, this is breaking some sort of fire safety code, but who’s checking? )
stomach churning, he pushes his untouched lunch toward @rkharu. “here,” he murmurs. “you’re still growing.” an excuse, but it’s technically true. technically.
for a moment more, he considers sticking around, seeing that it’s not too terribly polite to wander off, even for a breather. but at one point, the mere sight of everyone eating and looking ever so chipper makes him even more nervous. so he opts to leave for a bit of solace -- solace, he quickly finds, in cleaning.
“here, let me help.” he grabs one of the wet towels and wrings it dry, his nose scrunching at the smell of mustard and ketchup. a number of them, him included, had squeezed the condiments all over the premises during one of their shoots; and ever the tidy sort, he’s itching to help wipe it up despite protests from the nice film crew staff. “it’s fine,” he tells her as he rubs mustard off the side of the chair, “it’s our mess.”
lately, he’s forgotten how to thank people. day after day, schedule after schedule, he’s traded in mindfulness and gratitude for an extra five minutes of sleep. for months, this had gone on without an inkling or inclination to just stop and realize what he’s been given. he’s hounded his friends, dear family, with endless streams of complaints -- practice is too long, breaks are too short, concepts are too relaxed for his tense demeanor. not once did he let himself appreciate a rare opportunity.
filming felt surreal, tiresome. by time they wrapped up -- one in the morning, a new regular -- he’s already feeling his usual grouchiness. he thinks to leave first, so he can just climb into the van and crash in the backseat; but weeks of being with the older members has taught him discipline in this regard. he stays planted in place and is glad that he had done so. they’re to formally thank the staff for the hard work done throughout the day -- had he left when he wanted to, surely that would’ve been the worst possible impression he could ever make.
so there he is, swooped into numerous head bows as he gives words of gratitude to each staff member. they look as tired as him, and sound as much, but they accept his gesture with bright smiles regardless -- admirable, considering it’s hard for him to crack a smile himself. the light-hearted nature of their comeback had him grinning more than usual, and in truth, his entire face hurts. he’s not sure if this is something he can get used to; he’s not too fond of smiling in the first place, but if the staff members can do it after a long day, if his groupmates can do it, then he has no choice but to engrave that into muscle memory.
at long last, the session concludes. on the way out, he feels someone patting his back in victory. it’ll turn out well, don’t worry. and he can’t help but scoff in amusement. he’s always been bad at hiding his stress.
A staff member leads you down Sphere’s winding hallways to Baek Jiyoung’s office, then opens the door and leads you inside, where the CEO awaits, sitting at her desk. She looks up immediately when you enter, a sunny smile gracing her lovely features. Seated across from her desk, next to an empty chair, is a company lawyer whom you recognize from before; they had been present when you signed your initial company contract. The staff member directs you to take the empty chair next to the lawyer and then leaves. You hear the door close and the latch clicks back into place.
Baek Jiyoung claps her hands together, her eyes settling on yours. “When trainees first sign a contract with a company, they are devoting themselves to at least two years of training. They usually don’t expect the time to pass so quickly, but it does,” she says aloud thoughtfully. “Years of training and hopes leads to one dream usually: debut.”
“But, you’re no ordinary trainee. We chose you from a different company and brought you here with a specific goal. I’ve seen you grow these past few months in your training and the coaches have had plenty of praise and constructive advice for you.” She pauses and diverts her attention back to her desk, where she shuffles paperwork until she sets one singular sheet of paper in front of herself. “I’ve been proud of your growth here, and I trust you to do your best to continue to improve, even after debut. This, here,” she says, motioning towards the document, “is a contract exclusive to CONVEX and will tie you to this group, and to Sphere Entertainment, for the next six years.”
Baek Jiyoung’s eyes warm with pride as she hands you a pen. “If we share the same vision of making CONVEX one of the top boy groups in all of Korea, and you wish to stay with us for the long journey, sign right here on the dotted line.”
when he was first pulled from nova, he thought for certain his mouth had gotten him in trouble. his second thought, which came a few abashed seconds afterwards, was they’re going to kick me out. in retrospect, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
distantly, he finds the lawyer’s gaze -- the same one he recalls from nearly a year ago. he had signed on a whim then, knowing his training in circus tricks would be rendered useless in an idol producing company. essentially, what he had worked toward became meaninglessly with a single decision, and if he’s to make this decision, it would just drill it in further: he has wasted nearly fifteen years of his life on an art he can’t proudly perform. that’s hard to grasp.
the thing with him is that he doesn’t like change. he doesn’t like when things don’t go as planned, when the future looks like a muddled mess. he’s not good at the impromptu stuff. and even if the contract presents him with six years of set schedules, he’d still have to first adjust. he’s no stranger to cramming things into his timeline and losing sleep, but moving into a dorm with twelve others -- twelve who are already well-acquainted with each other, he’s sure -- that’s where his worries lie. he’s not the most agreeable person, this he’s come to terms with. one misstep, and the entire group could hate him forever. that’ll make six years of absolute hell.
but on the flip side, maybe he’ll get along with them. maybe this is his chance to grow with them. there’s still uncertainty in that, though.
then again, there’s uncertainty in everything.
he wasn’t ready when he flew into a new country -- without knowing the language even -- for a minimum wage job.
he wasn’t ready when, by sheer luck alone, he received an acceptance letter from k-arts for their performance department.
he certainly wasn’t ready when he signed the contract to nova.
and he’s definitely not ready to sign this one.
but he picks up the pen anyway and jots down his signature, seemingly without much hesitation. he may not be ready now, but he will be.
+
OOC NOTE: First of all, congratulations on arriving at the final step before debut! I know it’s been a long and crazy journey, and I’m so glad you’ve stuck through it. When you are ready, feel free to post this prompt with your muse’s response to it.
Should he choose to SIGN the CONVEX contract, he will be employed by Sphere Entertainment without a need to renew a contract until the duration of this one has concluded. As a reward for making it this far, he will receive THREE WEEKENDS unpaid vacation time to use any time between now and the start of July, so long as it doesn’t clash with any special debut activities (such as music show appearances, meaning he can’t actually use his vacation time until after the music show performances have finished.)
Should he choose to REJECT this contract, he will leave the company effective immediately upon rejection. He will be able to keep all of his debut points, but will not be able to take any trainee workshops or earn any more debut points/workshop points until he becomes a trainee again. He will not have any special advantage over newer characters when he auditions for other companies in the future, and should he become a trainee at a new company he will be considered a junior trainee all over again, even though he will still have his debut points and would be eligible for debut right away. He WILL have the right to audition for Sphere again, but the fact that he gave up a contract renewal, especially a debut one, WILL be taken into account in final casting decisions.
He will have up to one week to make his decision IC, meaning that if he does not make a decision by April 9th, he will automatically be cut from the company. Exceptions will be made for those on hiatus.
he likes pink, but this is maybe a bit too pink for him. it’s strange. everyone else who’s wearing pink dons a more pastel shade. for those not in pink, they’re in normal blue. he bites his lower lip, his eyes flickering over the full-body mirror. it stands out too much; he’s not sure if it’s a good thing. he’s certain eyes will already be on him, since he’s a new face, but he doesn’t want to draw any attention beyond his lines. too worried about he appears, too worried about how he sounds -- though he’s trained hard for the past two months, he doesn’t feel comfortable. half of the group have done this countless of times. he’s only done this on aerial silk, in front of an audience of 20 at most.
lips now pursed, he stuffs the shirt into his waistline, hoping that would make his form look a little bit better. it doesn’t. he lets out the back and turns slightly to the side to see how the french tuck appears with this sort of fabric. it doesn’t look good at all. in defeat, he tugs the tail end of the shirt back down and, for a moment, reaches up to run his fingers through his hair ( a nervous tic ) -- only to stop when he realizes it’s now styled by a stylist.
distantly, he wonders if his parents would watch the concert.
for some reason, he hopes they don’t.
he’s not sure if he’ll mess up, and if he does, how he’d deal with it. surely, he’d freeze on the spot, which would throw off the choreography and mess up the entire group. that would be the absolute worse. his eyes flicker over to jaehyun, seonghwa -- two of the newer members he’s gotten closer too, simply because of their shared new life. he then looks over to jihoon, someone he’s certain who hates him, then woohyun and sungcheol, the kind souls who made his transition a little easier just by being pleasant.
( distantly, he also thinks of ten, and how his close friend was once in this position as well. how did he feel then? was he also nervous? or was he excited? zhengting can’t help but look forward to stepping off stage so he can text ten a bunch of screaming emojis. )
“round up!”
he looks like a deer in headlights as he looks toward the staff member. oh god, it’s time.
“ze.t ---”
right, that’s him now.
“i’m not used to that yet, please call me zhengting.”
zhengting’s not entirely sure if this is appropriate. it’s not, by any means, illegal or scandalous, but for some reason, it doesn’t feel entirely right. he has a gift basket in hand, a small one filled to the brim with vitamin c blends, two bars of dark chocolate, and a cute little pig plush ( a cheeky poke of his last name zhu, which sounds a lot like pig ). in retrospect, it’s a nice thought -- woohyun had given him a welcome basket, so he’s only returning the favor. but woohyun isn’t exactly new, so the gift just seems a bit out of place.
but he already has it prepared and proudly displayed with a green bow that represents one of their group’s colors. grip tightening around the base, he decides to just go for it.
he knocks on @rkxroyal‘s room dorm, his heart thundering in his chest as he readies himself to say what he’s rehearsed twice before ( just in case he rambles, as usual ). “ah -- hyung. i wanted to give this to you to, um, congratulate you on finishing the web drama recordings.” and to thank you for welcoming me in the same way.
he lets zhenting talk, lets him have his entirely wrong opinion, but jungwoo’s expression is still grave, unamused. who cares if how hyun bin chooses to motivate is right or wrong, more or less effective, whatever? it works, and it inspired jungwoo to really go above and beyond, to not take the easiest route and the path of least resistance, and ultimately made him a better performer. maybe a better person if he’s being generous.
“alright,” he breathes a sigh, opting not to answer absolutely any of the newer trainee’s questions and instead just sharing an anecdote of his own. maybe it will help explain, or put things into perspective, or something. jungwoo can only hope. zhengting usually seems smart enough, but sometimes… well, some people are just natural born actors. “did you watch the third season of the mgas?”
that’s where it all went wrong, where he felt the wrath of hyun bin’s vengefulness. public, televised, documented for years to come. he still feels some cold dread at the very mention of the mgas. “i was a trainee here before, but i left. i came back, obviously, but the first time i tried to do that was on ricky’s team in the mgas. we won, but i was the only one who wasn’t offered a contract. because i left.” does zhengting get it? does he understand how scary hyun bin is, how his methods for punishment and teaching lessons go beyond the physical punishments trc is infamous for among the trainees? jungwoo hopes so, though he may not have told his horror story to the best effect.
“sounds petty.” it slips from his mouth before he can even register its severity. he’s quick to follow up, though: “i mean . . . maybe not petty, but if you chose to leave the company, it’s a fair assumption that you wouldn’t want to return, right? if you look at it from the company’s point of view -- it would’ve been embarrassing for them if they’d offered you a contract, only for you to turn them down . . . so they took the safe route.”
it sounds awful, and he knows it sounds awful. he shouldn’t try to use logic here, but he can’t help it. when poised with an opposing ( or otherwise challenging ) opinion, his instinct is to be on defense. his soul is restless, though. he shakes his head, lets out a calming breath.
“i’m not saying that it wasn’t embarrassing for you -- that’s really . . . really bad on their part, but hyun bin isn’t the risk-taking type, or at least, from what i’ve seen.” he pauses, his eyebrows stringing together as he considers the past several months. “i . . . no. he does have a tendency to do that, doesn’t he? leaving one person out.” he thinks of yongsun, thinks of seonghwa. that project was not kind to them. “he’s kinda sadistic,” he mutters this under his breath.
seonghwa chuckled at zhengting reaction. it did sound a little crazy but there were people who trained longer he supposed. it was just funny to see.
“when i came back to korea, i got signed pretty quickly and i’ve just been training since. i went through two contract renewal’s the second one, i had convince myself to take it.” it was a chance to run away. “after the show, i wished that nova never offered me the chance to resign. it’d would’ve been easier getting told i wasn’t good enough that way.” he was too much of a coward to do himself.
“i feel like i ran away from nova, it wasn’t that long between the show and getting the offer for sphere. getting to debut it is great…but should i have stuck it out in nova instead of being a replacement member. i wonder if the move would look petty to people on the outside.” he shrugged, “maybe the feeling will go away.”
it’s a sentiment that zhengting shares to an extent. he can’t imagine what it’s like to re-sign, only to be told no. had it been him, he surely would’ve quit -- packed his bags, booked a ticket, and disappeared. in that regard, he’s very much like seonghwa. he runs too much, never stopping once to turn around and acknowledge his wrongs. it’s become a burden, not only in his career, but in his relationships. but now’s not the time to dwell on that.
“sphere saw something in you that nova didn’t,” he says this carelessly but remains unflinching ( surprisingly ). “it’s nova’s loss.”
though firm in speaking of their previous company, his voice softens for what follows: “it’s hard to see yourself as anything else . . . since that’s what we are. we’re the replacements. but if you try to see it as -- y’know, a good thing . . . it means sphere thinks you’re good enough to keep up with an already debuted group. that’s a lot of pressure most trainees won’t be able to handle.” the use of you instead of we is intentional. with seonghwa’s experience, zhengting has no qualms that he’d perform well. he can’t say the same about himself.
