he sees her at lunch hour, but she doesn’t see him. she’s busy, talking to one of the other trainees, appearing as in her element as heejin always has to daniel.
it comes as a surprise. after all, everyone knew heejin was a trc trainee following the mgas. it wasn’t a secret. there could be no mishaps, but by now, after seeing seungah here, and her debuting under sphere, maybe he should know better. is heejin here for the same reason? has she been here this whole time and he just didn’t see her before? no, sphere isn’t that big. the heartz project did add mina, so maybe they brought more girls from other companies too, or maybe it’s just something else entirely.
either way, here’s heejin, his first partner on the second season of the mgas. it’s been more than a year since their first working together. he always secretly hoped they could reunite and collaborate again, but never brought it up to her, the aftermath of the mgas and empty enigma’s disbandment too hard on him, then giving way to training not long after. it’s funny that he was so afraid of her then, intimidated by her talent, but now, even with the dismal associations he has with the fifth season of the mgas, he’s just happy to see her.
he doesn’t want to be creepy; he just wants to surprise her. he never told heejin he was a trainee, let alone in sphere, so it’ll be fun-- one of the better surprises he’s been responsible for. he hopes so, anyway.
once they’re safely in the hallway, daniel sidles up to her and slings an arm over her shoulder. immediately after he does, he realizes it might make her uncomfortable, and subsequently forgets whatever witty thing he intended to say. typical.
still, he recovers with a, “hello stranger, what brings you here?” and a grin, just a little cheeky. (maybe he still has some of his more confident hannah montana alter ego in him after all.)
event: vocal training
location: vocal practise room, sphere building
date: february 18th, 2019 // 9:25pm
the start of the year was hectic, and only seemed to get more so upon rome’s departure. one day, he was there, the next, poof, gone. it had been hard, seeing one of their own leave, and noticing that empty space in the dorm where he used to be. it was so sudden none of them had had any time to prepare, and even now, weeks later, ten still felt that gap.
ten and rome weren’t that close, but ten remembers the night he cooked pad thai, and they sat and ate together, getting to know each other, breaking down that wall of stranger-ness. ten missed him more than he thought he would, when he poked his head round the door of what used to be yixing, yien and rome’s room, only to see rome’s bed stripped and all his belongings gone. that was really the moment it hit him that rome was gone. living with someone for over a year, and then them suddenly disappearing really threw a spanner into your routine.
but, they had to move on, and smile like nothing was wrong. ten knew he’d get over it faster than some of the other boys who’d been closer to rome, but he still noticed his absence. he noticed it when they were given the lines for their new song to rehearse, and ten was painfully aware of how there were no lines for rome. it was soon out of mind though when he noticed his single line, and sighed, shoulders slouching just a little.
he’s not had much to practise since they’d been given the lyrics to their new song, but still, sat dutifully in a small, single person vocal practise room, feet up on the table as he tries to make notes on the lyric sheet. he has a single line, which he practised over and over until he practically sang it in his sleep. the only other time he sang anything was the chorus, which wasn’t as much singing as it was shouting with a slight tune.
he can’t complain too much though, he’s a dancer, not a vocalist, despite how much time he put into improving his vocals. he just hopes that the dance has a part for him to at least get some screen time. he knows he not a popular member, possibly one of the least popular, but he wonders whether he’d even get any more attention if he had more lines and screen time - unlikely, he thinks, it’s his own fault he’s not popular.
eventually, he lays his head down on the table, thinking about how much he wants to just lay down and sleep right now. he’s been cooped up in the vocal practise room for hours now, listening to the demo track over and over, singing his part again, and again, and wondering whether he’ll ever get more time to shine. this isn’t want he really thought being an idol would be like - being able to perform on stage, and listen to fans screaming, though rarely screaming for you, so often not hearing your name screamed even once during a performance.
ten’s seen the netizens talking about hyun, and yien, rome and kibum. he wonders how the netizens took rome’s departure (not well, he supposes). ten’s only seen himself mentioned once recently, and that was to out him and johnny. it had made his stomach churn and palms sweat when he’d seen it at first, but thankfully it had never gotten any attention, and no one else had caught onto it and tried to take it further.
it surprised ten how little he cared about himself being found out to be in a relationship, and a gay one at that. he more-so worried about johnny, and how it could affect him, and his future. ten might be disappointed with how idol life is going at the moment, but he didn’t want to get johnny in trouble over his sheer lack of caring for the situation.
he sighs, standing from his chair to stretch his arms over his head, thinking about the vlive scheduled for later that week. he’s practised his self intro, and his special talent, but has pretty much assumed he’ll not be called on for anything else - they’d likely focus on the popular boys, like hyun, kibum and yien. no matter how much he seems to work on his charisma, his dance, his vocals, his rapping, none of it ever really seems to do him any good - he always ends up in the background. at first he didn’t think he minded, but now, he thinks, he craves what the popular boys have - they have fans who talk about them and post pictures of them and love them.
do i even have one fan who isn’t my family or close friends? he thinks.
probably not, he concludes with a sigh, sliding his back down the wall until he’s sat, knees curled to his chest on the practise room floor. tugging the hood of his hoodie up he sighs, leaning his head on his knees and closes his eyes for just a moment, craving a moments rest.
another month, another evaluation, and in retrospect, may was relatively uneventful. well, it was uneventful for daniel. the speak up project was exciting, namely getting reamed by sunmi in front of an entire class, but ultimately, it wasn’t much in comparison to the rest of his life, even just this year: best friends quitting being trainees, boyfriend enlisting, failing an evaluation. even for his misery in the first couple weeks of may, it ended on a higher note, and it ushers in a june that’s promising. he hopes to god nothing happens. he just wants to focus on training in peace-- on june’s evaluation and writing his music.
hopefully, the most dramatic thing that happens to him this month is running into convex’s royal in the hallway.
it’s during the latter part of independent study, on his way back from the bathroom to the studio he most commonly uses (the one he met jinwook in on his first day.) they’re going on opposite directions, otherwise he likely wouldn’t have recognized him from the back. the natural thing to do would likely be to avert his gaze and pass by as if nothing happened, but instead of that rational response to anxiety, daniel just stops dead in his tracks, eyes inevitably wide.
he realizes after a moment, and bows profusely. “sunbaenim,” he says. that’s all he says.
a year ago, daniel didn’t know any idols at all aside from what would become per_se and a little of eclipse. being on sphere’s team on the mgas, and subsequently jinwook and jinki’s, warmed him to convex quickly, and bias aside, they would surely be his favorite boy group regardless. their vocalists are strong, royal in particular someone whose talent he really admires. it’s so strange seeing him up close like this. “you must be busy!” he realizes. “sorry!”
he doesn’t even know if he can say it’s strange being home. daniel hasn’t been to busan in years. he lived his earliest years in this city, his middle years in vancouver, and his years up until now in seoul, each nearly equal amounts of time now. he’s supposed to be a tour guide for the girls because of it, but he doesn’t really know where to bring them outside of the places he vaguely remembers from his childhood. of course, daniel being daniel, to try and avoid humiliating himself, he did research on his own hometown to get ideas of important places to show them. (ultimately, he realizes it may not matter, because they won’t have that much time anyway.)
the most important spot he wants to hit before going home is the beach, because some of his favorite memories are painted with it as a backdrop. he isn’t in the best beach attire, because it’s still a tour guide day, not just a beach day, but he still wants to hit it today before they return to their hotel. they’ll likely be too busy with heartz activities tomorrow.
after hitting haedong yonggungsa and biff square for food (and more sightseeing, of course), they arrive and songjeong beach, one of the least busy beaches in busan, and the one closest to where daniel lived in his childhood-- a spot his family frequented.
“this beach is a lot calmer than the others,” he tells minhee, kicking off his shoes so he can feel the sand in between his toes, a feeling that’s somehow still familiar even after years of going without it. he bends down to pick up his shoes, then smiles at minhee when he rights himself. “busan local’s secret.”
he’s happy for yena. she’s debuting. it seems so fast, though, and it’s not that she isn’t ready, it just has him thinking. maybe part of it is being back in busan, the city he was born, making him a little more introspective. he’s more than excited at the opportunity to be in her music video, especially because they’re friends. he feels immensely lucky to be part of this moment with her, and he feels more comforted knowing it’s her he’ll be working with. hopefully she feels the same if she’s nervous, though yuzu doesn’t seem the type.
he just can’t help but think of the fact that it’s been a year since an mgas, nearing a year since he was signed, and if yena could debut, he could too, even with how unprepared he feels.
that’s not the point, though. the point: it all starts here. the public will see him again after a year, and they’ll learn he’s signed to sphere. with that comes a lot of pressure, and it leaves him nervous. mixed with his eagerness for this chance, it leaves him feeling a little sick to his stomach. thankfully, he has a trusty water bottle with him, and he’s sure the nerves will die down after a couple takes of him humiliating himself with questionable acting.
actually, he doesn’t know if it’s better that yena is here or not. will he feel better with her company, or will it be even more embarrassing to mess up in front of someone aside from the production crew? no, it’s better. they’re in this together, and it’ll be a learning experience. thankfully, coincidentally (or perhaps not; maybe they saw potential in him and that’s why they chose him?), he’s been taking some acting workshops. he isn’t entirely inexperienced. he basically is, though.
he watches as yena goes through her shots, unable to keep from smiling most of the time. he springs up from where he’s seated when it’s his turn, still smiling. the first scene he’ll shoot is the one with him and yena together, and he thinks that’s a good place to start.
he tries to put on his best cool guy persona, and thankfully, he already has one. just a dash of cameo and he’ll be set.
he walks up to the counter where yena flips through manga, and taps on it to get her attention, just as instructed. he has to fight to keep a straight face, if only because he’s so happy. can you believe we’re doing this?
maybe it’s because daniel knows. it’s a little funny: how it seems like he and sungmin understand each other so well without being particularly close. daniel understands sungmin, at least.
he understands the signs of something wrong during training: a little quieter, a little less focused, a little more scolding from the coaches and a little more resignation. sungmin just doesn’t seem like himself.
daniel knows because he’s been there many times; sometimes it feels like more often than not. he was there after woojin’s departure, and then kenta’s, a failed evaluation and now sungwoon’s enlistment. he feels like he’s finally emerging-- finally seeing the light of day again, but maybe life is always an equal exchange, and it’s at the cost of sungmin plunging into the darkness instead. no, surely they can both be happy at the same time, can’t they?
it’s after a dance lesson, difficult for both of them, that daniel approaches him. he catches him before he leaves the practice room. “hey, sungmin,” he begins, and then hesitates, second guessing himself for a moment. he already spoke up, so he might as well see it through. “is everything okay...? you just seem...a little down, i don’t know. you don’t have to talk about it if anything is wrong, just know that...” what? “i’m here to listen, if you ever need anything.”
✞ JULY EVALUATION
* SUMMER PARTY ; COMPLETE
with @rkseunghun @ianrk @mxnark @beomgyurk @rkserim
also mentioned: @haknyeonrk and @rkmiya
july 31st, 2020
he’s nervous the day of the performance, and he wonders if this will always be the case. maybe one failed evaluation has scarred him for life, and he’s doomed to have it flash through his mind before every performance. he reminds himself that that was different; he couldn’t prepare for a switch in their music to go along with an already difficult dance and a daniel that felt drastically less skilled somehow, despite it being mere months ago.
maybe it’s just new confidence. maybe it’s that this performance is fun, and was his idea-- his evaluation to begin, and his evaluation to finish more than any others with dancing included.
regardless, that new confidence wavers a little as they’re on deck, following several wonderful performances that daniel tried to enjoy in full but ultimately failed to with this performance heavy on his mind. thankfully, there are still plenty to come, and depending on whether he nails it or fails it, he’ll be able to enjoy them once this is all said and done. there’s the promise of the party on the other side of this too, and one way or another, the performance will come and pass, and--
no, that’s not a winner’s mindset. wasn’t he thinking mere days ago about how much fun he had working on this evaluation? it’s more important now than ever to look like he’s having fun, here on this rooftop in the middle of summer, performing a song that’s full of energy to keep the crowd of other professionals in this industry lively and enjoying the performances. (there are idols there too. he tries not to think about that too much either, or his nerves multiply.)
no, they can do this, and they can do well. he is confident, even as the nerves still flutter in the pit of his stomach when the audience claps after the performance they will follow. he needs a little more confidence, so he says a quick prayer, and flashes back to when he felt the most himself: ironically, while pretending to be someone else. he thinks of empty enigma stages, and his element, and cameo, and he tries to bring some of him back. it worked well for him on the mgas, so why not now? why not every performance from here on out? he can do it.
when he steps on stage, he believes it, even as he looks out at the crowd-- even as he spots haknyeon and the rest of per_se, then and*roma, and his eyes settle on sunmi momentarily. that desperation to prove himself returns, but it’s also accompanied by a desperation to have fun, and a smile that stretches across his face.
it’s a good thing, too, because he sings the first lines, and sets the standard for the entire rest of the performance.
i wanna run to you
all my senses are looking for you right now
he doesn’t have many lines, but he doesn’t mind it. he actually enjoys this choreography, and is content to just dance for most of the song. he hopes the others, most of which it’s their first evaluation, are enjoying themselves too.
maybe, just maybe, in one of the rare times he dances near the front, he’s intentional to catch sunmi’s eye, and even more determined to finish out strongly.
thankfully, he does, and despite all of his previous doubts, the confidence of a job well done and a channeled alter ego has him think as expected.
