#hd:global

[hdaerin]

ೄྀ࿐ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘

word count: 837 words

despite the emphasis from the Hydra staff that this interview was meant to be much more casual, aerin couldn’t help the way she was (quite literally) shaking in her worn sneakers. she attempted to calm herself by crossing and uncrossing her legs, clearing her throat to fill the silence, and biting her bottom lip that had long since lost the gloss she’d applied before coming here.

the staff, seated across from her and not at all meeting her nervous energy, appeared to be viewing her files and one of them would look up at her and offer a reassuring smile. it was sweet, though it did nothing to keep her from anxiously playing with her fingers.

in their defense, she’d been nervous since she had the first meeting following her audition tape submission. everything suddenly felt more real, then, when she was looking miss park jiwon in the eye and being told her debut might be closer than she thought. like she’d been living in a fantasy world where she could dip in and out between wanting the life of an idol and wanting to abandon it in favor of her true dream. as if she could spend years training alongside people who were desperate for the opportunities she was given, then drop out when she wanted. aerin had been childish and foolish, right up until the point she heard the words ‘debut candidate’.

“so, miss hong aerin,” one of the Hydra personnel finally broke the silence to address aerin, whose head shot up to attention as she was shaken from her thoughts. “as we’ve said, this interview is simply to gather your thoughts and feelings about everything– your potential debut, meeting possible teammates, and working on your own music. no need to be nervous, just tell us how you feel.” another kind smile, but it still only managed to make aerin’s heart race.

“ah, yes,” a pause, aerin’s eyes trailing around the room to avoid eye contact and making note of the camera recording from the corner. “well.. i have to say i wasn’t really expecting to hear that. to be honest, i feel that i am still.. lacking, in most areas…” she spoke slowly and unsure of herself, much like how she spoke when she first came to korea. even though she knew her parents native language, she always felt strange and like an outsider speaking it. just like how she felt here– an outsider. the only one here, possibly, that wasn’t living their dream.

“oh, please don’t think i’m not grateful for the opportunity, or-or i doubt the selection process,” realizing how she might sound, aerin quickly clarified her point and checked the staff’s expressions (they revealed nothing) to make sure she didn’t shoot herself in the foot. “i deeply appreciate being considered. i do worry that i might be a bit behind some of my potential teammates… i’ve been dancing my whole life almost so i am confident in that. but i haven’t been singing very long…and i’ve never tried to write or-or compose anything.”

her insecurities quickly overwhelmed her and spilled out the longer she talked, the illusion of calm shattered the more the reality set in. part of aerin just wanted to break down and cry, right here and now, and tell them she’d made a mistake and couldn’t do this. there was no way!! but she pinched her thigh and let out a small exhale, clearing her throat before speaking again with a smile.

“but, i am hopeful. i’m excited to meet my potential teammates. i’ve attended international school my whole life, my file mentions that i’m sure, so i’ve met a lot of different people. i’m also an only child, which makes me a little lonely sometimes so i would like to meet people i can call my family.” that much was true, and aerin couldn’t help how warm the thought made her feel. she’d always been well liked, but she didn’t ever have friends. there wasn’t time for them really, and she just never really felt… like she belonged anywhere.

“so i… i really want to improve. i want to get better at everything. dancing, singing, composing. i want to be a teammate that they can be proud of. i don’t want to ever drag them down.” aerin’s voice got more and more confident as she spoke. the tremble from before virtually gone, and she made direct eye contact with the staff who paused in their note taking to meet her gaze.

“no matter what, i will not ruin anyone else’s dream. i will do what it takes to make sure that no one suffers because of me. i will work harder to become a worthy teammate, and… a worthy idol.” aerin nodded firmly, and turned her gaze to the camera. she wasn’t sure who all would see it, but she wanted them to know she meant it. no matter what, she wouldn’t become a burden. she’s become better, for those who truly deserve this dream she’d stolen.

The first round of auditions brought over fifty attendees, vying for a spot in Kiss Studios’ upcoming projects. Twenty signed exclusive extended contracts with the label, and including a wider pool of already signed trainees, ten female trainees were chosen to start Debut Evaluations: your character. After the deliberation period, your character was e-mailed a formal meeting date to discuss the results of their audition. Kiss Studio Head of Recruitment, Park Ji-won, leads the meeting under Hydra’s main headquarters, on the upper, administrative floors. With her, their secretary and personnel staff to take notes and provide input, answer questions, and delegate the interview. A translator is on-call for those in need of assistance.

The three, much like most staff, hold true to decorum provide crystal-clear, although rather blunt, dialogue. “Hello!” She bowed, “Thank you for arriving punctually, we appreciate your effort. This is our first meeting, but I’ve been watching you very closely and my first goal was to fully assess your skills.”

The secretary in hand continues with an even stricter tone, “Now, there’s a lot to discuss. After evaluating your audition, we have plans to place you with a set of candidates under Debut Evaluations.” They let the words settle for a minute, watching for your character’s expression, and then proceed, “As a debut candidate group for the year 2023, there’s a lot of work ahead before any official news are made. In terms of skills, teamwork, and passion for debut, the company has decided to follow a different type of debut preparation. For the coming days, evaluations will be done with songs and choreographies made by the trainees - with the aid of coaches and instructors. We don’t believe idols can appeal to the public relying on only looks or skills. You’ll need to be an independent artist, with your own story to tell. It’s up to create the story others will gravitate to.”

This tasks is for Hong Aerin! They will go over more overview notes (skillsets), and the extended trainee contract to highlight the need for discrepancy. Debut candidates under 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐒 will have access on to the backdoor entrance of the company building, allowed mostly for artists and staff. They will also mark a second, casual interview, filmed, to weigh on your feelings about being a hopeful candidate. It’ll take place the following week after auditions are closed and should last for 15-30 minutes. In order to complete the Debut Evaluation Task, players will have to:

SOLO: Write a drabble (300+ words) about your character’s second interview. Take into account the news of a potential debut, feelings about meeting future teammates, and composing their own songs soon. The interview will be between your character and two Hydra personnel in a private training studio located on the lower floors of Hydra’s main headquarters, as well, Earn 25 POINTS to increase any skill on their point page or choose to collect.

Be sure to tag threads with #hd:tasks & #hd:global ! The deadline for threads/point submissions is February 5, 2023. The mod team will personally contact new players for future current or future additions to the untitled project from this time forward. Please, do not post mod submission until thread is completed. The thread should be placed above the divider and under a ‘read more’ if not already placed.

[hdjihye]

Hush, Hush

Words: 739 (technically)

Jihye could only hope that this meeting was what she thought it might be. 

It had been enough time since her sending in her audition for the global Kiss Studios audition call, and she was constantly checking her email and texts to see if they had responded. When she finally got a response from a Kiss executive, she tried to keep her expectations manageable. This was a good sign, but so much could go wrong. Maybe this was a trap and she was about to get in trouble with Starlight for going behind their backs. Anything could happen.

Still, she made sure she would look her best, just in case this went well. Her liner was on point, her eyebrows perfect, and a soft pink to her lips; professional, but memorable.

She made certain to be early, feeling like being professional was the least she could do to show she was ready for whatever they might decide to throw at her. When she was ushered into the practice room, she took a deep breath and put on a small, but polite smile on her face.

 “Hello!” She bowed, “Thank you for arriving punctually, we appreciate your effort. This is our first meeting, but I’ve been watching you very closely and my first goal was to fully assess your skills.”

Jihye bowed in response, then nodded in understanding, hoping the other saw something worth pursuing with her; she had been working hard for so long, she had to have something to show for it, right?

The secretary in hand continues with an even stricter tone, “Now, there’s a lot to discuss. After evaluating your audition, we have plans to place you with a set of candidates under Debut Evaluations.” 

Debut evaluations. Those were two of the most beautiful words she had ever heard in her life. Jihye wasn’t a very expressive person, but anyone with eyes could see the excitement forming in her own. All of her hard work in these past years were finally paying off; all she had to do was audition for a company that would appreciate her talents. A smile did form on her face, a bigger one than most people ever got to see out of the young woman, but this was truly one of the happiest moments of Jihye’s life. She was so close, she could taste it.

Only a little bit more work to go.

“As a debut candidate group for the year 2023, there’s a lot of work ahead before any official news are made. In terms of skills, teamwork, and passion for debut, the company has decided to follow a different type of debut preparation.”

Jihye was nodding along, listening to every word very carefully. 

“For the coming days, evaluations will be done with songs and choreographies made by the trainees - with the aid of coaches and instructors. We don’t believe idols can appeal to the public relying on only looks or skills. You’ll need to be an independent artist, with your own story to tell. It’s up to create the story others will gravitate to.”

Jihye was stunned. This wasn’t just a debut opportunity. This was an opportunity to debut with a song she personally had a hand in; this was perfect. “I completely agree,” she said after the briefest moment of silence as she processed the amazing words out of the other woman’s mouth. “And you don’t have to worry about me, I’ve been working on writing my own lyrics for years.” She considered for a moment taking her lyric notebook out of her bag to prove it, but thought against it; she needed to seem enthusiastic, but not too eager to please. She needed to keep her cool. “This is a dream come true for me. This is the exact kind of opportunity I’ve been hoping for, and I’m ready to show you my potential.”

With the final details settled, Jihye got up and bowed deeply, giving her thanks again before leaving he office and heading towards the subway. This was it. This was exactly what Jihye wanted, and she was ready to prove herself worthy of not only a debut, but a true artists debut.

Suck it, Woori.

It was only when she was on the subway back home did she realize she would have to be “friendly” and “likable” to the other girls being considered. So Jihye had to actually try to.. make friends.

Shit.

[hdjamie]

𝐇𝐃𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐋 ! 𝙰𝚄𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙰𝙿𝙴

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐂. 𝟐𝟖𝐓𝐇 // 𝙿𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚂𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 Jamie records his audition tape … 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐅: Criminal by Taemin 𝐏𝐈𝐂. 𝐑𝐄𝐅: [ 1 ] , [ 2 ] , [ 3 ] , [ 4 ]

There's an element of risk that comes with a decision like this. On one hand, Jamie wants so badly to debut, and yet on the other, auditioning for a group under a company that doesn't know as much about him as his current company is a risk—he could end up in a group that he hates the concept of, purely because he looked the part, despite what his personality and preferences are. But, this is such a huge opportunity, and Jamie knows that he's not going to get a lot of say in the concept of a group he debuts in no matter where he is. His one greatest desire for debuting, after all, is to debut with Mason. From the moment they'd met they'd known that they wanted to stick together forever; soulmates, Jamie likes to call them.

Mason would want Jamie would go for this though, and they'll be friend no matter whether they're in a group together or not, but he can't help but think that maybe he shouldn't do this. His heart hurts at the mere thought of not debuting with Mason. But, deep down he knows he has to, because he can't put his future on hold for anyone, not even his best friend, as much as he wishes he could. So, he goes about choosing the song he's going to perform, and yet it takes a lot longer than he'd anticipated it would because he can't decide whether he should just sing, or sing and dance, and if he's doing both, how can he do it well enough to showcase how good he is at both?

Eventually, he lands on a song he thinks he can pull off both vocally and dance-wise. Practising it, however, leaves him drained day in and day out. He's not only learning this on his own, but he's got the evaluation to practise, and his solo lessons to take for vocal practise and the variety of other skills he needs to know to be an idol. He finds himself, one evening, sitting on the practise room floor with his head in his hands wondering if he's even cut out for this. His voice might be good, but he's exhausted, and he's so close to just giving up. His whole body hurts, and he's got a headache, and he just wants to cry with frustration because he can't get one of the dance moves to look just right. He's thinking of asking someone for help, but then he worries that no one will because they're all up against each other in this.

Yet, each time he ends up like that, on the floor feeling like this is the end for him, he inevitably gets back up and carries on. It's a constant battle with skills, self-belief, tiredness and sheer willpower, and Jamie feels, sometimes, like someone's taken the plug out and every drop of each inside him is flushed away within seconds. At night he'll crawl into someone's bed, usually Mason's or Niel's, and he'll pass out with his nose pressed into the junction where their neck meets their shoulder, wishing he could just stay there forever, but every morning he has to drag himself out of bed again, back to feeling inadequate as he glares at his reflection in the practise room mirror.

Finally, he's ready to record the audition video though, having planned it all out, perfected the performance, and prayed to whatever god might be out there that he manages to do well. He begins, standing in front of the camera that's set up on a tripod in front of him, by introducing himself. He'd written it all out first, so he didn't forget anything, and goes through everything he'd put down.

"My names Jamie Han, I'm nineteen, and I've been a trainee for almost two and a half years. I was born and raised in San Diego, Californa, and I'm a super good skateboarder. My dream is to become the next best main vocal in kpop!" Maybe it's a little wild to declare his dream as something so high and currently out of his reach, but it's true, he wants to be the best (the very best, like no one ever was). Then, with the remote in his pocket, he presses play on on the speakers across the room to start up his music, getting into his starting position, tying a long piece of fabric around his wrists, and taking a deep, slow breath to prepare himself.

The song is a little out of his usual comfort zone, but then he'd been really trying to branch out a bit recently, go for a more mature vibe sometimes—he didn't want to be stuck in a box of only doing one thing, that wouldn't help him debut. He needed to be versatile, and so he'd picked a song he really liked, and frankly wanted to pull of badly. So, he'd been trying to see himself as able to be sexy recently, and as he worked into the night on his own, he'd gradually began to feel it—that he could do this.

And then it begins, from his knees, to his feet, the dance all in the sharp movements contrasting against the slow, perfectly angled ones, and his voice slow and calm, building up until he stands and bites the fabric tie off his wrists and tosses it across the room, eyes locked on the camera as he shows off his voice, then goes into the chorus. It all passes by quickly, and yet he's got laser focus on the small things he needs to do; his expressions, head movements, hand positions, perfect body angles, and the breath support needed to get through both singing and dancing at the same time. It's not easy, and he'd been building his stamina up over the last two years to be able to get to where he is now. He just hopes it's enough.

Then, before he knows it, it's over, and his chest is heaving as he stands in the center of the room, arms out and shoulders rising and falling, the only sound in the room now the sound of his heavy breath. After a moment he lifts his head, straightens his shoulders, and through his heavy breaths he thanks whoever will be watching, bowing and smiling, then switches the camera off with the remote in his other pocket. He could pick apart his performance, go over the recording over and over, but he realises he has to know when to step back and let it be what it is, and he needs to just let it be now. He'd done his best—frankly better than he'd ever done before, and he's satisfied, at least for now. Who knows how he'll feel that night when he lays awake and ponders if he twisted his wrist enough at that one point in the song, or if his voice sounded weak on the high notes.

Only time will tell whether he did enough or not.

[hdaerin]

ೄྀ࿐ hey, you go girl ♯solo [ word count: 746 ] ˊˎ- ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ KISS global audition recording ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ december 31st, 2022 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ unknown dance studio

everything had led to this point.

aerin knew that -- the way her heart was pounding and the blood was rushing through her ears, she knew she'd reached a crossroads. sitting cross - legged in front of the dance studio mirror, she stared into the eyes of her reflection that were full of apprehensiveness and the dark bags that carried all her doubt. the kiss studio audition was only natural. why wouldn't she go through with it now? she'd been practicing 'U-Go-Girl' everyday on top of her recital piece for roughly 4 months, determined to perfect it. many nights were spent in this very room, powering through the intense fatigue and body pain to get one move so sharp and perfect there wasn't a hair out of place.

she wasn't a singer, she'd never been trained for long, but aerin sat in her bedroom and practiced singing the song until her throat was too tired to make another sound. if someone asked her to, she could probably sing it from memory in her sleep with how the song's lyrics were burned deep into her psyche. for better or worse, she'd studied each and every inch of her face and body in the mirror when she woke up. hundreds -- maybe thousands? -- was spent on high end skincare to make sure that she would look better than she ever had for her profile shots. aerin's father, despite the protests of her grandmother, even got her a personal trainer to ensure that she was in the best shape of her life. the reflection seemed to warp and shake under her watchful eye, perhaps it too was afraid of what it saw in her.

so it wouldn't make sense to stop here, when all she needed to do was record herself putting it all together. she just needed to show them that they needed hong aerin on their team. this was the easy part. she knew that, but still the tears welled up in her eyes. they didn't dare fall -- she wouldn't let them. the tears hitting the ground would make it all too real, and then she couldn't be sure that she wouldn't run as far away as possible when presented with that reality.

"you can do this. you've done the work, just record yourself putting it together," the voice that reached her ears sounded foreign, and the only indication it was her own was the fact she watched her lips form the words in her native language of Chinese. maybe because it offered her comfort. with a final firm nod to herself, she stood and made her way to the camcorder situated firmly on the tripod. aerin adjusted it's position so she was centered, marking her spot with her water bottle that was long empty as she anxiously downed it's contents. deep breath in, deep breath out. her pointer finger hovered over the record button, trembling with anxiety, before it came down far too harshly as she steadied herself and her resolve once again.

take position. look into the lens. another deep breath in, out. smile for the camera.

"hello, my name is hong aerin and i am nineteen years old. i am fully korean, but was born and partially raised in beijing, china. i've been training for roughly a year officially, however i have been doing ballet for 14 years," aerin paused briefly to calm herself, blinking rapidly and trying to remember what she'd practiced so many times before. "both domestically and internationally, i've been acknowledge as a junior ballerina. i do not have as much experience in singing, however i am more than prepared to do what it takes to improve."

breathe. steady. smile. make yourself look charming.

"for my audition, i will be performing U-Go-Girl by jang boram. thank you for your time and consideration!" with some final enthusiastic yell and bright dimpled smile, aerin shuffled over to her phone that lay forgotten on the ground to hit play before quickly repositioning herself.

in her mind, she teleported herself to the stage. she was 5 years old, dressed beautifully in her first recital's uniform and ballet shoes that were a little too small because she was growing so fast. big, round brown eyes were anxiously searching the audience and locked onto a young man in the front row who matched her anxious energy with a big smile and misty eyes. young aerin smiled back and knew it would be alright. all she had to do

was dance.

aerin didn’t hear the music so much as felt it. she felt it in every part of her body and moved like a woman possessed. she knew she was singing as she was supposed to, felt her lips move, but she couldn’t be sure how she sounded. it was just her and the squeak of her shoes as she moved with that grace she’d spent years perfecting. the thought that maybe she didn’t sound well, maybe there was a voice crack or two, didn’t cross her mind at all. it was just her and the movements of every part of her body.

here she was herself.

[hdjihye]

Global Audition

Word Count: 854

Jihye had thought about her audition piece methodically and logically, as she liked to do with all of her major decisions.

Maybe this was a risk, auditioning for a project from a different company when she had already spent so long with this one. But that was the thing, she had spent so long here, and for what? Sure, her dancing wasn’t perfect, but she had seen so many people debut who couldn’t sing, or couldn’t dance, or could barely handle smiling during performing at all, so why couldn’t Jihye debut when it was just her dancing that needed a little fine tuning? She knew she was ready, and she didn’t understand why the people of the company didn’t see it yet. Well, maybe this company would.

She shouldn’t rap, and she was fully aware of that fact, so that narrowed down her song choices significantly. She also decided that it didn’t matter if she didn’t consider herself the best dancer, it would be stupid to not show how stable her singing voice was while moving, so that also narrowed it down. Then, she wanted to do a song she knew her sister would never have been able to pull off the concept of, leaving the list pretty manageable. Then, lastly, she wanted to do a song that she genuinely loved.

There. That left her with one.

Jihye was going to sing the entire song, all the parts, while doing the dance to the best of her ability. Most people would see that as ambitious, since seven different parts by seven different woman with seven different vocal ranges were not meant to all be sung by one. But, Jihye knew she could do it. He vocal range was wide and varied, could go low and high. She was going to kill this.

She set up her camera and pressed record before giving a deep bow and her introduction.

“Hello, my name is Kim Jihye, I’m nineteen years old, and I am a trainee at Starlight Music and have been for over two years.” She had debated for hours about whether or not to mention Woori, there being pros and cons to both. They might already know based off of her name, but if they didn’t and she reminded them, then they would know that talent was clearly running through her bloodline. It might give her an edge, like she had seen other siblings in competition shows had done before.

On the other hand, if she did mention Woori, then it would be linking her to her sister once again. So, she ended up deciding “fuck it.” If she was going to debut, she was going to debut based on her own talents, not because her sister was in TAG. Plus, it wasn’t exactly a secret, Jihye’s name being on Woori’s “kpop profiles” page for years; she just wasn’t going to draw attention to it.

“I think I’m ready to debut because I’ve been singing for as long as I can remember,” she explained, matter of fact. She didn’t see any reason to beat around the bush; she knew what her skillset was and was going to show it. “I can sing anything put in front of me, and I’ll nail it. My visuals are also unparalleled. I’d help whatever group I’m placed in stand out from the others just with my memorable look and ending fairies.” She hated ending fairies, but she knew how to do them and do them right. Plus, what was the point in saying that during an audition? “I want to debut. I’m ready to debut. I’ve put in tons of work and I’m ready to prove it.”

She gave a nod before starting the music and getting into her position. She knew this choreography wasn’t going to be as impressive on her own as it would with a group, but it was still something. The couple of chene turns while singing was a part that Jihye had rehearsed over and over to nail, and... alright, her form wasn’t the most perfect, but her voice was steady and her spotting of her head was solid. Plus, she was auditioning for a kpop group; she knew ballet steps were most likely not going to be an issue. The dance moves during the chorus were still fast and difficult, showing off how stable her vocals were when she could still hold her notes during the moves.

She finished the final notes in her head voice, giving an intense look into the camera, holding it for a moment before bowing and walking up to stop the recording. She sighed, taking a moment to unwind before rewatching the footage. Well, her voice was perfect, as always, and she looked great, a given, but the dance was... not terrible, obviously, but it wasn’t her best work. But, honestly, Jihye was never satisfied with how her dancing looked, so she assumed this was the best she was going to do. She nodded to herself before going to send it off.

She was ready to be a star, she just hoped the studio could see it too.