hello hello hello everyone! i’m mia (19, she/her, est) and this is sihyun, phoenix’s lead vocalist and self-titled healing-dol. he’d really like to convince you that he has his shit together but i’ll very swiftly be dismantling that illusion for you. to phoenix fans, sihyun is a charming, genuine idol who brings comfort to those around him. to anyone with insight into his full personality, sihyun is a desperate and self-sacrificing person who would really rather die than show any clear signs of his emotional wellbeing (or lack of it) to the public. while the kind and considerate parts of his idol persona aren’t falsehoods, he is nowhere near as tranquil or well-put-together as he makes his fans believe. now that he’s 3 years into his career, he’s about 2 steps from intense burnout and has garnered quite a dissatisfaction for his place in the industry. he has yet to admit either of these things to himself, and who knows when he ever will!
anyway, with that all-over-the-place summary, i’ll be placing more details under the cut!
profile | biography | career page | plots (under construction, but feel free to look anyway)
biography:
as states in his position, sihyun comes from a poor family. as a child this didn’t really bother him as he’s always had a good relationship with his parents (who did everything they could to hide any signs of economic hardships from their kids) and older sister, but he became intimately acquainted with just how elitist kids can be by the time he reached middle school.
as you can probably imagine from the prior bullet, he wasn’t extremely popular in school. there was nothing akin to bullying, but there was a constant air of purposeful isolation.
the only “community” he really found in school was in the school choir, but even then it was still rife with hierarchical issues and he never really came out of it with “real” friends.
however, singing grew into being something that he could release all of his frustrations into. (it is also, predictably, the beginning of his unhealthy work ethic)
to make a long story short: sihyun grinds his way into getting a soloist position in the choir, and is scouted by YS at an event they are singing at.
the competitive environment of YS combined with his already fervent desire to change the way his family is living is a disaster waiting to happen.
the explosion happens at perhaps the worst time possible. he had lasted over 3 years and made it into phoenix without cracking, but the snap happened on camera.
as a part of phoenix’s predebut reality show he had to take phoenix (as well as an extensive camera crew) to his family’s home, and during the process he outright started bawling. he also cried in the interview segment where he had to talk about his life before his trainee days. this, of course, was not edited out of the program and the issue became one of the key examples as to how invasive the show was.
to this day, those outbursts are his most regretted moments throughout his entire time being an idol, and he never wants to show such an embarrassing image ever again.
as his time in phoenix has progressed, he’s made sure to only show positive sides of himself to the public.
getting phoenix’s first win earlier this year has certainly lifted some of the weight off of his chest, but it’s not wholly gone yet. there is still a part of him that is frustrated at it taking so long. there’s also a part of him (that he has no idea about) that’s finally starting to get tired of pushing himself this hard, that can sense that he is constantly at his tipping point and is fed up with it. he has no thoughts of not being an idol currently, but how long will it take for him to start crumbling again?
personality:
*slaps roof of the metaphorical sihyun car* this baby can fit so much anxiety and misplaced responsibility issues in it
while it may not show through in his bio, sihyun is a shockingly well-adjusted person around 75% of the time.
while this isn’t to say his obsessive tendencies are gone during this period, i would liken it to leaving a fan running. you can always hear it, but there are ways to focus on other things.
while sihyun isn’t really the most outgoing or variety-attuned member of phoenix, his comforting personality is often attributed as being his “stan attractor” quality by his fans.
while he is lacking in regards to his own introspective capabilities, he is naturally empathetic and does well at giving advice for other people’s problems.
aside from this, he is friendly and does his best to make good first impressions. even in cases where he doesn’t like someone he is generally not one to purposefully create conflict and will usually act similarly to how he does with everyone else.
all in all, he’s generally good natured, clearly dedicated to his work, and is largely inoffensive to be around.
the other 25% is such an overcorrection from the norm, however, that it has tendencies to outshine it.
sihyun takes care to only act this way alone, but most of the people who know him intimately (phoenix, people he was close to while training) are likely aware of it.
this part believes in the following: his family’s wellbeing depends on his success, his success is completely controlled by his effort, and his effort takes precedence over all of his other concerns. none of these things are true, in reality, but he is convinced.
on both a positive and negative note, he is always giving 110% on stage and in practice.
without outside intervention, sihyun will work himself until he physically can’t, whether that he running his voice raw or dancing until he can barely walk back to the dorms. this was far more common during his trainee days, but it still occurs when other phoenix members are too busy themselves to keep him in check.
in this state he is more likely to be vocally frustrated with himself and others.
he’s very grateful for the people around him who check in on him and keep him from hurting himself like this, but there is no improvement on the actual behavior in sight for him currently.
other: (career details)
he runs a weekly scheduled vlive called “sihyun’s calming hour” where he gives advice and listens to fans’ troubles. (a little ironic, but it’s been surprisingly successful)
is looking to branch into MCing a music show at some point in his career
has repeatedly tried to produce a song for phoenix, only to be rejected due to them not fitting the group’s image.
hi everyone!! i just wanted to accompany my withdrawal from the rp with a public post. i love rping with you all, but i keep running into irl things that have me unable to be committed to a reliable rp schedule at the moment. i hope i can return when i have more time on my hands! until then, i guess, goodbye! ♡
“As an idol or in general?” The interviewer shrugs, wanting to leave the question up to his interpretation in order to get the most sincere answer. “I can answer both, I guess. In terms of being an idol, I suppose I look up to Crescent the most? I’ve mentioned it before, but they’re my most experienced seniors, so I guess it’s a bit obvious that I would answer that. On top of that, they’ve explored many different genres and in general make music that I’ve liked even before I was a trainee, so I hope that I can walk a similar path throughout my own career. The same sentiment goes for Ladybug and Etoile as well, everyone is working hard in their own ways, so I respect all of them.” Of course, it was common sense to mention his seniors. Nothing he said was particularly a lie, he did look up to and respect everyone who put in the effort to maintain a successful idol career—even if saying it did come off as people-pleasing. “In general, though? I’m always inspired by my parents and how hard they worked while raising my sister and I. Is that cliché?” This answer is closer to the complete truth. He became an idol because of his family, his work ethic is modeled off of how hard his parents work, and he values them over anyone else in his life. It’s a bit embarrassing when he thinks about it that way, he concedes, but who knows where he’d be if he wasn’t inspired to work harder by his parents? Now that’s a future he didn’t like thinking about.
If you could choose your next comeback, what concept would it be?
Ask Meme → ( accepting! )
16. If you could choose your next comeback, what concept would it be?
also asked by: @seojunws
He smiles at the question. It was one he’d answered in previous interviews, as well as something that he had personally considered on his own time as an aspiring producer, so his answer rolled off the tongue. “Well, I personally want Phoenix to try stepping in a direction that is a little out of our current comfort zone. Most of our title tracks currently are very hard-hitting, darker, dance-focused songs, so I want to see what we can do with something a little bit lighter, if that makes sense? The closest of our current songs that I could compare the image to would be Very Nice?” He cocks his head for a moment as he considers it before nodding. “You know, that kind of summery, fun kind of feeling? That's what would fit my own personal taste, at least. I do think that our new comeback song is considerably a step in that direction, but you’ll have to see when it releases I guess.” The self-promotion comes out with a chuckle following it. There is one thing he does leave out, a wish to return to more vocal-centric songs. It was selfish, he knew that, and it would only seem as though he was disparaging the other members, so he refrained from mentioning it at all. In order to not risk such bad-faith readings, he refrains from complete and total honesty.
woooo~ i’m back!! i’m bringing with me my (finally) updated plots page!! hopefully this should speed up plotting on at least a few ends! i’m dedicating my whole day (save for potential irl interruptions) to returning ims so please anticipate me hopping into yours sometime soon!
hello everyone! as the above implies, i will be taking a short hiatus until the 18th! i won’t be totally gone, but i wanted to take some time to re-center myself and come back in a week refreshed and fully ready to write! (in other words, i have belatedly realized that i definitely should have taken a hiatus during finals week and am instead using this time to take a mental break haha) i’ll still be reachable through ims and discord (lmk if you want my id!) but otherwise yeah i’ll be on hiatus. on the 18th, i will be fully ready to hop back into ims with ideas that don’t take me 5 days to come up with, which i think will be better for all of us lol ^^
These questions can be answered from your perspective as a mun or from the perspective of the character! As the main goal for the prompt is for headcanons and character development, you’re free to answer however many you’d like. The questions include options for artists as well as staff, as to make sure everyone can have something to answer! When you reblog, users will send in numbers corresponding to those question!
Each answered question will be worth 1 TOKEN EACH, which you’ll be able to claim a total of 5 times, totaling out to 5 TOKENS TOTAL! When you’re done, please submit the links to these 5 asks to the points blog. Make sure to tag all answers as WS:HCMEME. For these to count for activity, the word count for each answer must exceed 100 words. Like an open event, this meme will not have a time limit and can be used by future applicants.
it wasn’t something that happened often, just often enough. that being said, most of the time when she ran over, no one else was coming into the dance studio so she didn’t need to pay that much attention. today hadn’t been one of those days. yeonmi was in some what of a trance, focused on perfecting the set she had prepared.
she had realized someone was in the room until it came time for a turn. which also startled her and promptly caused yeon-mi to hit the ground with a loud sound. “sorry.” she mumbled as she pulled herself up up, rolling her shoulders back as she headed over to the speakers. “i didn’t realize i went over my time. one second and i’ll have everything cleaned up.” would she address her fall? not in this life time.
@sihyunws
The sound of the fall jolted Sihyun out of his slight daze. At this point, he had gotten pretty used to having to wait a little extra for people to clear out of the practice rooms if they were heavily booked. Frankly, he was also the kind of person to completely forget about having to leave at a specific time once he immersed himself in his routine, so he couldn’t blame anyone else for making him wait. For the most part, he defaulted to idling in the doorway until the person noticed in order to let them properly finish whatever they were working on. Cases like this, however, make him think that sometimes it would be better to make his presence known, if only to not startle his jumpier labelmates so much.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, take as much time as you need.” He pursed his lips into a small, polite smile before walking a bit further into the room. He continues talking as he goes to set his own bag down and begin setting up himself, “Sorry for surprising you, by the way. I can erase the memory, if it bothers you.” Perhaps bringing it up at all was embarrassing enough, but completely saying nothing about it would only create a very awkward silence. That, and seeing people get hurt—potentially, anyways—always made him feel slightly guilty, so he couldn’t just not do anything.
Sihyun checked the time on his phone as he leaned against the wall of the practice room, slowly dropping to the floor to sit. 3:12 AM. His face contorted into a cringe at the realization. How many of the other trainees would be asleep by now? While he anticipated his debut for many reasons, his most trivial motivation was the simple fact that he would have fewer people to maneuver around and try not to wake up when he returned to the dorms later than everyone else. It was this annoyance that drove him to pack up shop a little earlier than usual, despite the fact that the closeness of this month’s evaluation was causing the tirelessly ambitious part of his brain to itch for him to perfect another sequence before the night was over. Nevertheless, he pushed himself back onto his feet—ignoring the persistent ache of his legs—just as quickly as he had sat down, moving to collect his things and call it quits. He made a mental note of what exactly he had to revisit the next day and left the room before he could convince himself that one more round wouldn’t be so bad, clicking the lights off on his way out.
It wasn’t uncommon for him to be one of the last ones out of the building at night, if he wasn’t the last completely. Due to this, he had begun to make it something of a habit to check all of the practice rooms he passed on his way out that had the lights on, leaving the occupied ones alone and going out of his way to shut down everything that had been left running in the empty ones. It didn’t make a lot of sense—caring about YS’ light bill was a ridiculous sentiment in and of itself—but the ritual helped him remove himself from the thoughts that tried to pull him back to the practice room for another hour. By the time he was finished, he had typically cooled down enough for the tiredness to seep in. It worked like a well-oiled machine these days, especially when he was as busy as he had been this week, so it didn’t take very long for him to begin to fight against yawns as he made his way from door to door.
Now, this ritual wasn’t all great, of course. Barging into quiet, seemingly empty practice rooms at ungodly hours in the night had a tendency to produce mixed results. (Well, he may be exaggerating slightly. The amount of truly awkward, “I’ll burn my eyes out now, sorry,” experiences could only be counted on one hand over the course of two years, which was objectively rather lucky, but I digress.) Either way, he entered rooms without looking into them now, and gauged whether or not he was clear to go further by what he heard. 99% of the time he heard nothing and went about his business, but tonight he hit that rare chance. He almost turned around completely once he felt like he heard anything, but when he focused a bit more it sounded like... crying? That caught his attention. He had to do something, right? There was no way he could just go “Sorry for intruding—” and waltz out like some kind of asshole. So, he chooses the still uncomfortable option of further entering the room and letting the door shut again behind him, taking an unopened water bottle out of his bag—as some sort of peace offering, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t exactly make out who she was yet, considering how her face was covered as well as the distance between them, but he tried to speak to her anyways. “Are you...okay? I, um, heard you crying, so I just wanted to check. I have water? Or, I could listen, if you want to talk about something?” His words were laced with hesitance, and he knew he was treading the line of overfamiliarity here very tightly. Perhaps every outcome of this situation was simply doomed to start awkwardly, but he tried to smooth it over by giving them both an out. “You could also definitely just throw me out or yell at me for invading your privacy, that works too.”
“but… you know, sihyun… i don’t know what you think is going on, but i’m not skipping practice. i really hate that your first instinct upon seeing me is to assume that i’m not using my time well.” this part is new, at least — usually, he admits that he’s not where he’s supposed to be. this time, he feels like he has something to prove. something that isn’t true. “we’ve been doing so well that practice ended early today. i’m as surprised as anyone else, i guess. if it were up to me, we would’ve practiced for longer… but what am i supposed to do? argue when i’m told that i can go home? no, right?”
Sihyun has never subscribed to deterministic thinking. In fact, he fell at the exact opposite side of that spectrum. For better or for worse, he believed that he could fix just about anything with enough effort and elbow grease. Instant gratification was something to perpetually hold at bay, and any discomfort was to be weathered for the results that would follow it. Sure, even Sihyun could admit that it wasn’t the most pleasant way to live life. He misses out on pursuing a few of his older hobbies more often than he’d like and he could count the amount of times he had chosen going out with friends over practice on two hands, barely. So no, it wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it got him where he wanted. If he was a bit bolder, or perhaps more patient, he’d try to figure out where exactly Hyeon wanted to be, but the trainee burned through his fuse far too quickly for that possibility to even come to his mind.
So, they dance around their points instead of being outright. Sihyun crosses his arms in front of his chest. He shouldn’t have bothered getting his hopes up, all it did was make him more aggravated. “No matter how talented you are, there’s always room for improvement, you know. It might just be ‘waving canes around’ now, but making a habit of settling for good enough isn’t going to work forever." The words come out more exasperated and defensive than he wants them to. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath to center himself. It was embarrassing, honestly, the fact that he allowed himself to be so riled up so quickly. The rational part of his brain admits that the reaction comes from the fact that he knows Hyeon is good—from what he had seen while waiting for other trainees outside of their practices, at least—and that paired with how little he seemed to care bothered him beyond belief. The ruling 95% of his mind, however, prefers to take it as simply a part of his bad mood, so that’s what he decides to believe.
It takes more energy than he’d like to admit to keep his eyes from rolling at Hyeon’s cover-up. Well, what he thought was a cover-up, at least. If the claim had come out of just about anyone else’s mouth, he’d probably give them the benefit of the doubt and drop the issue, but Hyeon’s track record was far too lengthy to ignore. That, and Sihyun wanted to be stubborn. So, he raised his eyebrows and moved to pass Hyeon, pausing in front of the door to the practice room. (At this point it was undeniable—the song was definitely still playing. He’d probably be impressed at how boldfaced the lie was if he wasn’t the one who had been told it.) “Is that so? Then, no one would mind if I took this room? The speakers in here work better with my phone than the one I have booked right now.” His hand hovers over the handle and he looks at Hyeon, unconvinced. The questions are more to see how far Hyeon was willing to run with it rather than to pretend to believe him, so his expression remained mostly unchanged.
Sihyun paused for a few seconds after pressing the “Go Live” button, waiting for viewers to tune into the stream. After half a minute, the count began to rise and comments and hearts began to flood the right side of the screen. At that cue, he waved towards the camera and smiled. “Hello Rubies, are you all doing well?” he started, filling his voice with eagerness. When exactly had the routine of talking to himself in front of a camera stopped feeling weird? Perhaps it was because these broadcasts were one of the only things about his career that he felt he had full control over. Here, the company’s only moderating influence was the small, unnoticeable presence of a staff member huddled in a corner that was not caught by the camera. They kept him from doing anything outrageous—the only time he remembers someone stepping in was when he tried to play one of his own tracks while it was still up for consideration for being on an album—but at this point he was so used to their presence that most times he was able to completely ignore it. It was the only space where he felt that he didn’t need to be completely perfect. Sihyun couldn’t supply a “right answer” for speaking as he could for dancing and singing, there was no lofty goal to strive for, no bar that he can set too high for himself.
“I have something with me today, though you can probably all guess what it is,” he paused and leaned forward towards his phone, looking to see the guesses in the comments, laughing at a few of the silly ones—”Do you have my heart? I gave it to you and I’d like it back,” was a particular favorite that left him giggling for a good few seconds—before reading off the correct answer. “Ding ding ding, I do have the lightstick! We showed it off yesterday and all, but I wanted to show you all a bit more up-close.” He gave a small round of applause to himself before reaching over for it on his desk. YS had supplied all of the members with their own for promotional purposes, and his had been sitting unused in his studio for what had to be weeks now, waiting for the official announcement to finally arrive. He cheered quietly as he brought it into frame, turning on one of the light settings and waving it lightly from side to side. Red and orange light bounced across the dark room in flashes every few seconds.
“Isn’t it pretty Rubies? I like it a lot.” He rested his chin on his free hand and paused to see the commenters’ feedback again, listlessly reading the ones that stood out. He lands on, “After watching Phoenix since before their debut, seeing the lightstick makes me feel so proud.” At that, a strange feeling of accomplishment blooms in his chest. This too, was what made him anticipate going live—in spite of language barriers, odd requests, and the occasional hurtful comment, it was one of the only places he had to freely communicate with fans. There was no time limit, and every once in a while he was able to find really genuine messages in real time. His smile blooms into his hand, and he responds. “Being proud is good! Phoenix and our Rubies have worked really hard to get where we are now, so let’s let the lightstick be a physical reminder of our gratitude for each other. Really, every time I see Rubies working to help us it makes me want to give three times the amount of effort to repay you all.” It scares him, sometimes, the fact that he does mean those words. He breaks what feels like awkwardness with a laugh after a moment, “I didn’t mean to get sappy all of a sudden, let’s try to have fun! I came up with the idea to try and do fanchants and take punishments from the comments if I mess up. Does that sound like fun?” Attention—his own, at least—successfully diverted, the broadcast moved on in a typical, enjoyable manner. By the end, he could have sworn he was asked to do aegyo in every single way that had been invented, but he still felt less tired than before, in spite of the hour and a half that had passed. After the live turned off, he made sure to place the lightstick in a noticeable place, smiled fondly, and prepared to return to the dorms, in a better mood than he had been in all week.
a year and some change into his contract with yuseong entertainment, hyeon should’ve found some dedication by now. but instead, he just gets lazier, lazier, always lazier — if there wasn’t enough proof already, then the final piece of evidence lies in the fact that he’s yet again weaseled his way out of practice when it isn’t even particularly difficult lately. the emphasis today is on memorizing the choreographies for crescent’s upcoming stages, neither of which are advanced in any way. in truth, it’s more like a rest day than anything else, but even that hadn’t been enough to keep hyeon on task.
it’s not like he’s always slacking off, anyway. maybe once a week, he’ll bombard his fellow trainees with tireless complaints and excuses about why he has to leave early. and when that fails to work, he’ll wait until their supply of water bottles dwindles down and then he’ll be the first to offer to go get more. that’s the method that he’d used today. as soon as he’s alone in the hallway, he thinks to himself about how naïve everybody in this company must be to still send him to get water when it’s guaranteed that he’ll be gone for at least an hour. he even utters a mocking laugh under his breath, but the universe must be sending reminders to keep himself in check because the first person that he sees is hwang sihyun. from hyeon’s perspective, he has to be the most uptight person in the entire company. for the briefest of moments, he considers turning around and retreating into the safe zone (re: the practice room he’d just come from), but decides that there’s no point. if he’s already spotted sihyun, then he must’ve already been spotted, too.
“sihyun! hey!” he exclaims as soon as he’s made his decision, one hand held up in a motionless wave. it’s too casual of a greeting for the situation: it seems to suggest that they’re two friends running into each other and not a trainee who’s escaped during practice hours and the senior who always seems to catch him in the act. to make matters worse, he approaches sihyun and slows to a stop in front of him, grinning. “what are you doing here? studio time, maybe? is your group cooking something up? i saw the news about your lightstick. sooo sick, dude.”
Phoenix were somewhere near week and a half out from the end of their “Miroh” promotions, and it was at this point that Sihyun’s fatigue had subsided enough for his body to itch for practice again. He had caught up on enough sleep, eaten enough junk food, replayed the feeling of winning in his mind enough times for the reality of it to finally sink in. Sihyun, at this point, knew that there was only so long that the euphoria could sit before he reminded himself what he was here for. So, he booked his own practice room for the first time in a while and prepared to dive headfirst back into his routine.
A return to the practice room, however, meant dealing with all of the stressors surrounding it. Usually, these were manageable things: the last person in the room forgetting to clean up after themselves, the room’s speakers being too finnicky and disconnecting from his phone too often, or even forgetting to bring money for the vending machine. Every once in a while, however, the annoyance came in the uncontrollable form of a person—and, speak of the devil, he crossed paths with Hyeon of all trainees on his way to the room. Luck was odd in many ways, but the amount of times that Sihyun had coincidentally caught Hyeon blowing off his own practice made him feel as though that force of nature wanted him to be particularly frustrated at all times. Hard work, in Sihyun’s book at least, was the basic foundation needed to be an idol. What was Hyeon doing here when it seemed like he spent more time trying to get out of practice than actually doing it? Perhaps it was none of his business at all, but he seemed to be unable to ignore Hyeon repeatedly hitting that exposed nerve of his, which led to standoffs such as these: mutual annoyance overlaid by false positivity.
Sihyun indulges in the friend-charade for just a moment, returning Hyeon a warm, trademark smile before cutting it off in a way that removed any thought of genuineness. “No, there’s nothing in the works right now, I’m just coming in for regular-old practice. I can’t let myself sit around forever just because promotions are over.” He shrugged as if his statement was a no-brainer. He wasn’t necessarily in the mood to deal with Hyeon’s more frivolous inquiries, particularly due to his suspicion that they were laced with sarcasm. “Speaking of promotions though, how’s the backup dancer thing going with Crescent? Any stage experience that trainees can get is important. If you use the time well, that is.” Tenseness was already starting to edge into his tone. Considering the situation they were in, where Sihyun was almost sure he could hear “Beautiful Pain” playing through the wall, the question was next to pointless, but a small part of him wanted Hyeon to surprise him anyway—if only for the sake of his patience. He wouldn’t be betting on those odds anytime soon, though.
She shook her head. Maybe it was the excited little her that was obsessive about idols deep down inside of her, but she never thought Phoenix as bad. Especially not from the same group as Ladybug. “You guys were extremely good. My Pace is a very fast song. I can’t imagine doing that hard and quick of a choreography live and singing or rapping at the same time,” she blurted out. “I know the backtracks are there for a reason, but good first impression and all.”
Why was she explaining this to Sihyun? He was her senior and been in the game longer than her while under one of the larger labels. Making a fool of herself. Then again, she wasn’t the one for this kind of stuff. Public relations and variety were her weakest. And, boy, was Sihyun getting to see her weaknesses shine through, she thought to herself. Still, Eunbyul did her best to push on a smile and continue to be rather friendly. As friendly as she can be with the manager over her shoulder and doing a tour of the older idols to help get Dandelion’s name out there.
“I can’t give away too much information,” she said, looking over her shoulder towards management. “The most I can say is soon. To be honest with you, I’m a bit in the dark on what the actual times are. The leader probably knows more. Not that you should scout her out or anything since she likely can’t say much at all.” Eunbyul stopped herself. She was speaking way too much and too quickly. Her throat felt dry from the stage performance. The bright lights and the adrenaline dehydrated her. How much and how fast she was speaking didn’t help.
Eunbyul coughed once or twice to try and clear the itchiness from her throat before making an apologetic bow. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I think I’m just nervous.” She pulled herself back up. The heat on her face was growing. By now, Eunbyul was sure that her face must have been a bright pink. Her pale complexion never gave her room to hide embarrassment.
Sihyun’s hand sheepishly raised itself towards his neck, a habit of shyness that he still had yet to kick. It was his turn to be a little embarrassed, he supposed, running his sentences back in his mind. Had he fished for a compliment without realizing it? Of course, he wasn’t so modest as to hate the comment, but turning the encouragement—even if only for a moment—back around onto him did slightly catch him off guard. He tried his best, however, to internalize his surprise. There was no point in further troubling her with his own bout of brief awkwardness after all.
“I knew asking for specifics was pushing my luck a little. Either way, I’ll look forward to seeing it whenever it does happen.” He smiled reassuringly, both at Blue as well as their respective managers, who he could only assume were incredibly relieved that he had let the topic go easily. Perhaps his brain was too used to the process of his own debut. At the time, it seemed like Yuseong telegraphed any and every detail to the public for the months leading up to it. He shouldn’t have expected that other companies would conduct themselves in the same way. (Hell, Yuseong didn’t even act that way for their other projects).
His smile drops for a moment at her cough, “Do you need water? We have to have some extra bottles around here somewhere.” He trailed off slightly, glancing quickly around the room in hopes of finding the shine of plastic tucked into one of the corners. Without waiting, he crossed the room and brought back an unopened bottle, holding it out to Blue. It seemed like he was ostensibly failing at his initial mission of not making her nervous, so he might as well try and play the hand he was dealt. “You don’t have to apologize for being nervous, by the way. I don’t think anyone thinks to prepare for these kinds of formalities in their training.” He certainly hadn’t, in any case, but one of the benefits of being in a large group was the fact that he didn’t need to do any of the talking for the most part. Of course, he was much more acclimated to it now, but even he knew not to say something along the lines of ‘Oh, it gets easier with time, you’ll be fine.’ No matter how good one’s intentions were, statements like that only ever came off as patronizing to Sihyun, and that was the last thing he was trying to be in this situation.
It was weird being referred to as a rookie and hear people ask her her name, only to have to mentally remind herself to respond with Blue. Her heart had been pounding all day, only subsiding when she was out on stage. It was scary. No others in her group with her, but alone. It at least gave her a little bit of practice and allowed her to know what to expect when it came time around for Dandelion to debut as a whole. She still felt so ridiculous doing PR tours to meet the other idols.
Eunbyul looked back at her manager, making sure everything she was going was to code and what her company would want of her. “Good evening,” she said as she bowed to a near perfect right angle. “I hope I’m not bothering you.” She did her best to not think about how red her face must have been. Interacting with others wasn’t what she was geared up for. That was for the leader or the face of the group, not the socially awkward dancer (and now rapper).
She smiled a little. The small clap and returned the bow to her. He seemed to be nice at the very least. “I’m Blue, a member of Dandelion, but you just saw my solo pre-debut track,” she pushed out, worrying that her voice sounded too rehearsed and stilted. Eunbyul offered her hand to the Phoenix member for a small shake. “Soon, to be rapper and dancer for the group. So, be on the look out for us.”
Ah, Dandelion. A few familiar faces flash in his head at the mention of the name, and he makes a mental note to kick himself later for—once again—not keeping up with the group in the way that even a decent acquaintance would. However, it was no use to reveal this blunder to Blue, who wouldn’t know what the hell he was talking about, so he kept his face set in the same static smile he had been wearing before, save for the instinctual quirk of his eyebrows as he recognized the name.
The other Phoenix members had begun to tune out for the most part after the initial greeting, and Sihyun supposed that he could potentially go back to sleep if he did the bare minimum here, but he reached out and shook Blue’s hand anyway. Maybe he could just cut an hour off his solo practice and make up the time then. (He would not, in fact, even pause for a second to consider this idea later, but Sihyun was too experienced in self-placation to not at least think of it). “I’m Sihyun, it’s nice to meet you,” he started, hoping to hop past the awkward niceties as quickly as possible. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that Blue was nervous, so he couldn’t imagine that going through the most stilted parts of an introduction was helping at all.
“I didn’t catch all of it because we had to get ready ourselves, but you did really great up there for someone who hasn’t even debuted. I was stiff as a board on my first stage, so I was pretty impressed.” He allowed his smile to crack open into a small chuckle at his self-deprecation, hoping it would break the ice even if only by a little bit. In the best case scenario, he hoped it would help loosen the atmosphere, in the worst case it had the potential to make the scene even more awkward. Of course, these kinds of considerations only ever happen after he says things, but he only lets the sentiment sit for a moment before asking a follow-up question. “Will Dandelion be debuting soon?” He tilted his head slightly as he asked, hoping that neither of their managers would swoop in and change the subject.
