#idnamjoon

[idjinwoo-blog]

constellation!!!

magazine meme. ( +2EXP ) 

CONSTELLATION – Do you have any ambitions or personal goals for the future?

the question is more loaded than expected.

visibly, jinwoo is taken back: eyes rotund, lips tucked in and inner cheek clamped between molars. the reaction is much too raw to go unnoticed, and he’s stiff, board shoulders straight rather than sloped with ease.

jinwoo isn’t as ease, and it shows.

he has an answer. well, james does—james who always comes prepared with invisible cue cards and a graphic display. pie chart, numbers, lecture and all. because james is an entity constructed by the best of jinwoo and jiwon and driven by his parents.

“i do hope to release some solo music sometime soon.” what his parents want, what they call him about at three am instead of worrying why he isn’t sleeping, why his eyes are bloodshot and lips are white, why he’s constantly losing weight. but they don’t so this, don’t act like parents, don’t see him as a son. instead, they push and pull him in multiple directions, greedy to accomplish their dream of seeing jiwon’s dream come to life.

but he isn’t jiwon. he isn’t even james; he’s just jinwoo. a lame knockoff, a carbon copy, an incomplete clone, a replacement—no one special.

there’s more in his answer, but jinwoo cuts and edits something concise, something that doesn’t reveal too much and keeps his plans a mystery. if he can say more without tarnishing the mask he worked so hard to polish and shine, he will. jinwoo’s too cautious, too obedient to disobey, to reveal too much and have people aware of his inner turmoil.

no, he can’t so that. imperial will suffer. his members will suffer. he’ll suffer, and his parents won’t care, won’t hug him better and convince him it’ll be alright. instead, they’ll play the blame game, mumble fractions of passive aggressiveness. and cast glares through the corner of their eyes.

“i’m aiming for a single this year,” jinwoo says with a bit of grit, jaw clenched and teeth aligned. too forced, too rough. anyone can tell it’s insincere but they move onto the next member.

[idsejun]

mask off.

jun leans his head back, watching the small snowflakes move around, lost in the winds fury. he exhales deeply and watches as his breath materializes in front of him for a moment before fading away. it’s one of the coldest days of the year and of course it’s snowing, a fitting display exactly right on time for christmas. jun sinks down into the warmth of his hoodie and tugs the blanket more firmly around his shoulders. the idea of the holiday season was a loaded idea in the kim household, a family plagued by the memories of those that were taken from them one dark and rainy night. a simple moment left them fractured for years afterwards and jun knows it’s easier to pretend it didn’t happen. easier to remember when the color red reminded him of christmas instead of police lights.

this time of year he’s thankful to be a trainee, likes the idea of spending it in the dorms, pretending that it was just another day as they spiraled towards the end of the year. he had spent the morning watching cartoons, eating cereal he wasn’t allowed to have on his diet, and taking an afternoon nap in front of the heater. and when the night comes trickling in, when he woke up to the sight of snowflakes, he retreats. the rooftop of their dorm is the perfect spot for his little haven, a blanket pile and a stack of banana milk. tilting his head back even further, jun lays out on the heap of blankets and ignores the sound of his phone chirping beside him.  a handful of forced messages from his brother, a flurry of missed call from his grandparents, and you’d figure they’d gotten the messages ages ago. no instead, jun ignores all of his worries and takes another sip from the container of banana milk.

he dozes despite the chilly air and only awakens at the sound of his phone chirping rapidly beside him. jun rolls over and grapples blindly for his phone lost in the mound of blankets. when he feels his fingers wrap around the hard plastic case, he lets out a small yell of victory. the shared chat for trainees is exploding in multiple messages of happy holidays, pictures of delicious food and selcas with family pets. jun smiles to himself and hits the icon for the camera, taking a panoramic view of the rooftop, snaps a photo of himself with a giant grin and sends it off satisfied for once.

@idnamjoon

[idhyera]

the passion

                  ... i was mortified by the prospects of becoming hopelessly trapped in                   someone else’s story.                                                                                            — l. shriver                                                                      ★ ( + with @idnamjoon. ) she’s getting tired, fed-up with the same old, same old of performing on music shows. how many times has she sung---excuse me, rapped this song now? hundreds, thousands? much more than she could care (or want) to count?

and so, she’s exhausted, much too fatigued and much less concerned to care anymore, to---what do they call it? trying your best? and so skin-colored microphone acts as more of a decoration of aesthetic, of expectation than of actual utility, dons itself onto her flesh much like the mascara coating eyelashes or bracelets dangling off wrists.

her eyes gaze at the ground more often than usual, her expression falling periodically more than she’d generally allow---she’s lip-syncing, of course, and doing an average job at best; maybe it’s the lethargy talking, or maybe it’s an omen that she’s reaching a breaking point.

nevertheless, a sigh of relief parts her pink-stained lips when the director calls cut! and the staff shuffles to their next task; the smile fades off her features, and it’s no surprise that hyera’s the first to make a beeline to the stairs once the stage lights dim and attention is brought elsewhere. hollow heels against concrete steps, and her hurriedness leads to an accidental bumping into one of the members of the next group on standby.

“ah---” she softly exclaims, as the slight collision halts her in her path and stops her hand from peeling tape off her cheek. “i’m so sorry---” a glance upward to recognize her victim, and a mental fuck passes through her thoughts whilst briefly pausing before speaking again. “---sunbae.”

[ideden-blog]

zenith

IS THERE A GENRE OR SOUND YOU’D LIKE TO PUT OUT IN THE FUTURE?

Yena’s lips spread into a grin, but there’s a tired pull around her eyes. She’s sick of smiling and she doesn’t really want to do this anymore, honestly. Her spine hurts from her desire to keep her posture in place, toe circling as she rolls her ankle, stretching it out, an old injury stiffening the muscle the longer she spends sitting still. “I’d love to branch into more folksy, indie music. I like a nice hipster twist to my pop. Of course that doesn’t make a lot of sense for a summer bop, so who knows if we’ll get the chance to explore it any time soon.” “I’ve had a lot of fun with some of our more retro throwback sounds, but sometimes,I have to admit, I look at what other groups are putting out and get a little envious of some of the more experimental things. I think it becomes a little difficult though to marry my desire for acoustic bonfire folk songs on the beach with the fun electropop trends lately, though, so really its probably a good thing I’m not in charge of that, or people would complain that Heaven was just all over the place conceptually and made no sense.” She laughs then, at her own expense, to offset the fact she’s officially nearing the end of her patience with insipid questions, wishes her group mates were there to take some of the heat off her. Sooyeon seems to love chattering on about her dramas and nonsense, after all. 

[iddongwoo-blog]

core!

CORE – Is the “you” on camera different from the “you” off camera?

now this is a question with a scripted answer, and a bit of leeway. the obvious answer is ‘not too different’, and a bit of improvisation. provocative as it may seem, there’s no way it’ll hit close to any truthful vein kd may have on screen. he sits back, as if totally at ease with the situation he’s now in, humming a little under his breath, a little thrum at the back of his throat. he does not mention that there are only ever a few people who call him ‘lame’ off-camera, or speak up to him and realise that he is not as intimidating as he may seem. but now is not the time for that, nor is it time to unravel years of building up this image, especially not with his comeback ever so looming.

“we’re all a little different in front of different people,” he answers vaguely, neither yes nor no. the question deserves a little bit of playing with; at least, he has to play with it a little if he’s to gain any viewership or positive feedback for trying to seem more...entertaining? mysterious? either one is fine. his manager might finally ease off his back if this earns him a point or two in the way of what variety should be. “but not too different, you know? there’s a lot that’s the same. it’s the same situation on camera and off camera for me, i think.” and he leaves it at that, with no other explanation, and awaits the next question with slightly more confidence than the last.

[idryusan]

nebula!

nebula – If you weren’t an idol, what would you be doing now?

san picks at the edge of his nail as the interviewer rolls into the next question. he’s gotten it before. you aren’t in the industry for eight years without getting it at least once. san’s answer changes every time, and it’s never the truth. he pretends like there might be an overwhelming amount of experiences he wants to try. lives to live. pretends like his reality is constantly shaping him. pretends in every possible fashion to obfuscate the truth. namely that san has no idea what he would’ve been doing. he can’t imagine his life going any differently, and he has no other hobbies to spare. his life is dance. his life is singing. his life is olympus. even when he was a child, everything had been pre-selective. san never dreamed about being a pilot, or a police officer. his mother constantly reminded him that he wanted to be famous. wanted to be a singer, or a model, or an actor. she always knew what he wanted, in that fake sort of way where she shoved it down his throat and made him swallow.

he still believes it, to an extent. or maybe he tries to believe it. wants there to be something that he loves. something he’s chasing after. wants to feel accomplished, or at least happy. at this point he’d take content. moderately alright, even. 

he clears his throat, drops his hands to his lap and smooths a wrinkle from his jeans. they’re a little loose. maybe he can beg his manager to jump out of the van after and buy him mcdonalds before he next schedule. “ah, this question is always hard. i just love being in olympus so much. dancing...it just feels right to me. it feels like that’s what i was built to do. so it’s just...hard to picture.” he sucks in air through his teeth, tips his head, narrows his eyes like he’s thinking hard. 

“but lately i’ve been interested in spending time outdoors. so maybe a farmer?” he settles on, and he laughs along with the interviewer when their face breaks into a smile at the absurdity in his response. san shrugs his shoulders. he doesn’t care. he doesn’t even remember what he’d told them all last time.

[archiveidjowi-blog]

constellation

✨Do you have any ambitions or personal goals for the future? 

Finally, a question she wants to answer. Not only wants but needs, desires, burns, aches to answer.  She sweeps her fingers back through her hair and tosses the interviewer a smile that reads radiant, fierce. There’s this wolfish intensity to Jowi that is oft overlooked, some expression of wicked determination and overabundant passion, like a fierce thing ready to devour, eager for the kill. This is the spirit with which Jowi approaches her career as an idol; ferocious, tenacious, brutal in her grace and spirit. She is, in short, a force to be reckoned with. Her smile is divine, eyes sparkling. “I have big plans! I have huge plans, actually. Even bigger than huge. Gargantuan,” her nose scrunches upwards and she tilts her head to the side, “I’ve actually been working on my own music lately. Making it, I mean. Some lyric writing, some mixing, I mean, I’ve got a long way to go obviously but after so long performing music written by such amazing songwriters, of course I wanted to start making my own too. “ She grins, pauses to lean forward someone conspiratorially, “I’ve also, on the down-low,” she says, to a reporter, as if there were such a thing, but its all part of that tongue-in-cheek- AJ brand of charm, “ I’ve been working on a solo debut. I know, it’s wild right? Maybe someday I can even have a solo with a song I made..that’s the ultimate goal. The distant dream. I’m sure it’ll take me awhile to get there though, but, cheer me on in the meantime okay!” 

[idhyera]

spectrum!

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( + answered here. )