sheer.
SCHEDULE. secrets in the open ft. @ftcosmo
after a day of music recording and fansign events, second to last on the schedule is a group vlive. the company’s terrified to have fans even glancing sideways amid promotions.
his day now ends at around three am, and he assumes everyone knows that. the extent of the idol schedule would naturally be a poorly kept secret when most of the activities are meant to be heavily publicized. and yet, for the sake of the pretense of relatable genuinity, they now gather in a circle in a practice room with a camera at 11pm and pretend they’re just about to go back to the dorm and wrap up activities, instead of going back to work as soon as the camera shuts off.
just a matter of time until someone wonders why they’re chugging starbucks before bed time.
the six of them line up in on the floor, three at the front, three at the back. they’re mostly neo:red, only one missing, but some of the boys of the other units are there as well, early for rehearsal. impulse for attention chemically curbed from the painkiller he took for his stiff neck earlier, raewon opts back row, leaning gently onto his fellow member's shoulder. part for show, part genuine - his usual operational mode. he watches hye approach them and take a seat directly in front of him, rips rearing to brush against raewon's folded legs.
his body is a chemical battleground, veins besieged. the quiet voices reverberating in the small practice room against the subtle wheezing of the air conditioner, the closest illusion to silence he will experience in his next five years. the caffeine seeping into his bloodstream, every muscle in his body numbly constrained with the shot of adrenaline they barely detect. raewon detaches again.
he ignores the shudder slithering up his spine, sips from his cup.
as hye talks, his eyes fall on his nape, peeking out of the loose collar of the tee he has on for practice, teething the tip of his straw. his fingers flutter to the small of his back, brushing over the spot he remembers to lift shivers out of hye’s skin, just because he can.
for the camera, he casually explains to a curious commenter that he’s drinking americano, wondering if it’s ok to say the brand live before remembering this isn’t a tv broadcast. for hye, he lets his fingertips circle around the spot, inconspicuous and knowing.