The Price Of A Wish | 4
The third time you meet Jung Hoseok, you realise the last ten years has done nothing to the way you were drawn to him, with a force as sure and inescapable as gravity.
CHAPTER INDEX
Hoseok x Reader
Genre: Idol!Hoseok, Chaebol!Reader, OT7 bangtan show up too, Slow Burn, Unrequited feelings, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Fluff, (we might include some other things later let’s see)
-
Hoseok throws down his suit jacket on the kitchen counter harder than he needs to and heads straight to the fridge, pulling a Perrier out and cracking it open. It’s only after he’s guzzled down half the bottle that he acknowledges the person sitting in his living room.
“Why are you here?” It’s more of a statement than a question.
“You gave me the code to your apartment.” Hoseok watches closely as his manager comes to stand on the other side of the counter, bracing his hands on it.
“I asked you why you’re here, not how you got in.”
“Where’d you go after you left the opening gala?”
“A drive.” is his clipped reply.
“You can’t. Just disappear like that, Hoseok.”
“The fuck, Hyunmin. You’re not my goddamn babysitter.”
“Well, your personality sure needs one.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “You go your way, I go mine, we meet in the middle for work. We keep out of each other’s personal business, how hard is that?”
“Very, apparently.” Hyunmin says derisively. “News flash, you’re an idol and for some reason very much beyond me, people actually care about what you do. And I’m your manager, so it is literally my job to make your business my business."
Hoseok just looks at him in the blank way he knows infuriates people. It works. He knows he's pushing buttons, but he's never been more in the mood to revel in some toxic behaviour.
”You think that situation with Sohee shut itself up? Who cleaned up that variety show debacle last month?”
Hyunmin braces one hand on the table and jabs a finger on his chest.
“Me.”
"Thank you, knight in shining armor." Hoseok even swoops his hand down in a little mock bow. “That variety show’s directors were intentionally framing us maliciously in post editing for bribes, and you know that. What, was I supposed to just sit there and take it?”
“No, I didn’t expect that, but you could have handled it with the snarky clever comebacks you always seem to be dishing out, or whatever it is that you have going on up in that head of yours. " Hyunmin snaps back. " But no. What do you do? Curse at the director, cause a scene, storm off the set. Like a child throwing a tantrum. Newsflash, kid, welcome to showbiz.”
"I've been in this business longer than you have, and I’m higher up than you on the food chain. Newsflash, Hyunmin, welcome to showbiz. Change your job if you hate me that much."
"Unlike you, Hoseok, some of us can't afford to change our jobs because we have actual families to care about."
It's a low blow and makes Hoseok tongue the inside of his cheek angrily, but he doesn't do it without a twinge of guilt. He doesn’t like his manager, but he doesn’t necessarily hate him either. Hyunmin was just doing his job and had gotten the short end of the stick being stuck with him - a snarky, do-what-I-like idol with flighty tendencies and a temper to match. If Hoseok was being honest, he hadn’t been trying to be the easiest to deal with either.
“Fine.” Hoseok concedes. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“The tabloids are already on to you. Whatever you’ve got started with the Aurarts heiress, I don’t know what President Kwon wants with her.” He exhales heavily and waves a hand in the air. “I don’t give a shit if you have to pull roses out of your ass - all I know is you can't mess it up.”
“Too late for that, buddy, I told you we had history. You think sending me in there as a surprise to her wouldn't fuck it up?"
“Well, I don’t care. Fix it, unfuck the situation or whatever. We need her.”
“What for?”
“Do you even care?”
Hoseok doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and takes a sip from his Perrier.
“Anyway, I came by to give you this.” Hyunmin fishes a manila envelope out of his bag and slides it over the table. “President Kwon says it’s your new project, non-negotiable.”
Hoseok sets his drink down, tilting his chin defiantly. “What, another variety show? Another commercial? What kind of fanservice is it this time?”
“Well, look at it, don't look at it, you're doing it anyway."
That piques his interest a little. Hoseok empties the envelope, scans the contents -
“I’ll do it.”
Hyunmin's folded arms go a little lax in surprise and Hoseok puts the papers back on the table with a small sense of smug satisfaction.
“What, first you lecture me on listening to management like a good dog, and now you’re surprised when I actually do?”
“Fine. But don't think I don't I know you better than that, Jung Hoseok.” Hyunmin barks, grabbing his bag and car keys off the counter. “I don’t give a shit what you’re planning, just stay out of trouble."
In the silence left to him he takes a final swig from the bottle and makes a face. He doesn't even like sparkling water. Everything is suddenly awfully uncomfortable. The bubbles roiling around in his stomach, the tag on his shirt is itching and makes him short of breath, his hand feels awfully cold from the drink - dark green glass shatters against stainless steel as Hoseok hurls the bottle into the sink, water spraying in all directions.
A few droplets land on the documents, and he watches, uncaring, as the liquid makes the ink blotch and spread.
Fuck sparkling water. He needs a drink.
—————
It's a thought that comes more often to Hoseok nowadays, that he doesn't know when and how all this happened. This, referring to how he's on his third gin and tonic (more like gin and gin), glass in hand, mind cloudy, and letting the condensation seep all over the suede couch. (He doesn’t care it’s going to leave a water stain. Why did anyone even make suede couches? What a bunch of pretentious idiots.)
This, also referring to the stupidly big penthouse that overlooked the Seoul skyline. He’d picked this out by himself about three years ago - he’d been drunk off his face partying at a club on his last night LA when Hyunmin had asked if he’d already out a place he wanted to stay when he moved back to Seoul.
He still thinks it was a feat he had the mind to search Naver for housing options in the middle of an alcohol-induced haze, sent the one with the most ridiculous figure back to Hyunmin - and that was that. The first time he saw the place he was quite pleased, marveling at the city skyline spread out at his feet. But now it feels more like a hotel rather than a home. It may as well be, given how little time he’s spent here in the last year.
But more than anything, this, referring to the colossal mess, yet, not-mess that his life was in.
He’d arrived in the city ten years ago, literally nothing to his name but a passion and an already growing debt to the company he was signed to. But a certain dance practice video that went viral made sure that he shot to overnight stardom - the fans loved his humble, bright eyed, bushy tailed look and everyone wanted to know the dance genius who could also rap, sing and produce his own music. Fast forward ten years and he’s Jung Hoseok, celebrity and dance legend with a reputation for his sharp wit and an offhand attitude to life that oddly enough, charmed its way into the hearts of many. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants.
It’s very much a not-mess. Technically, he’s living the dream.
It’s also very much a mess, because living in a dream... well. It's hard to tell which parts are real and which parts aren't.
People telling you things because of what you want or what they want? It begins with subtle hints they drop (I think the audience would like it if you looked a bit more… soft, yknow?) and then before you know it you’re their puppet on strings (we’re scrapping that track, I’m sorry, we’ve decided to go with a really strong concept, we have some pre-composed songs that you can look at). Hoseok went - goes - along with it because well, all this fame and éclat is dizzyingly glorious, isn't it? Before you know it, it’s been ten years of people telling you what and how to do things and you have no idea who you are.
No one tells you about how you this life makes you want to drown yourself in it and never come back up for air, willing to live in this dazed limbo with no purpose, real beginning or end to anything. How at the end of days like this, without the lights and people and cameras to distract him from the quiet, he is left with a terrifying sense of emptiness. Each day, Hoseok quells it with a pair of designer sunglasses and a smirk, but the emptiness - it grows.
He flicks mindlessly through his Instagram feed, just for something to look at (makes sure not to accidentally like anything), and after three minutes clicks his phone off and tosses it aside, abandons it with his half drunk gin and tonic on the couch. Walks through his wardrobe, strips, and pulls on a pair of gray sweatpants, doesn't bother picking up the stay clothes. He stops mid stride in the middle of his bedroom, deciding to sleep in the living room couch instead, returning to his bedroom only to drag the comforter off his bed.
A shiver runs down Hoseok's spine and he makes a face when his torso shifts onto the wet patch from his glass earlier, but all he does is just tuck his blanket over the cold area, turning over so he can face the cityscape view; a thousand little blinking lights. Distantly, he thinks that each of these lights could be a person and wonders what all of these thousands of people might be doing.
Wonders if any of them feel like they have a black hole in their chests. A star, dying, forces on all sides closing in with a crushing pressure that is waiting to engulf all that it is into nothingness. Did you know? That because no light can get out of a black hole, you can’t see it? Black holes are invisible.
Shifting again, he rests his left hand on his right shoulder and pats himself gently in a steady rhythm. It lulls him into a clouded, dreamless sleep.
—————
Mornings are mostly unproblematic, generally tolerable and under control.
Granted, you’re not really a morning person. You didn’t necessarily like being woken up at the ass crack of dawn, but you learned to tolerate it. After a good twenty years following the same drill, it becomes the new ordinary. Bolstered by a nice hot shower, a relaxing morning skincare routine, and then once you discovered the wonders of coffee - some caffeine in your system; everything seemed a little more palatable.
Even Friday mornings, where you have to routinely sit through a weekly report meeting from your board of directors. Three hours (give or take, depending on how long the stick up their ass is that week) of telling people how to do their job while being fighting to be respectful and to be respected as a young woman in a room full of older, more ‘senior’ men. Maybe even that could be mellowed out by the promise of the weekend.
You tap the page of your open notebook with the back of your pen, going over the dot point list.
“Alright last on the agenda, where are we at with the masterclass series for the conservatory?”
“Ah yes, of course.” Mr. Choi quips.
Most of the people in the room wouldn’t have spared it more time than it needed - the moneymaker projects being elsewhere, and it being a non-profit initiative. You think you did well though, allocating this to Mr. Choi. He’s humble and cares genuinely for the best outcome. You can see from the meticulous presentation he's put together that he’s proud to show you his work.
“We’ve just concluded the first installation in the masterclass series, and the final artworks by the students are going up on display next week.”
You nod in approval, flipping open the folder. It’s a series of photographs of students holding their own paintings. Some are pulling silly faces, some with bored expressions, but each of them hold their finished canvas with pride.
“As you can see, they did beautifully.” Mr. Choi smiles, and your heart swells. “Jisoo was an excellent choice of mentor.”
“And you did a fantastic job of putting it all together.” The tubby, middle aged man beams at your compliment.
“Will we still be taking applications from students from the same schools this time around?”
“Yes, let's. I like the idea of bringing art to these schools”
“Pardon me, Ms. ____ , but if I could wedge a comment into this discussion - “
“Yes, Mr. Kim.”
Mr Kim clears his throat gruffly, like he can’t believe he needs to ask permission from you to speak.
“I just think that these masterclass slots would benefit participants more if they were to go to students from a more reputable school with more reach rather than …”
He trails off, and you don't wait for him to find the acceptable words.
“This project is about bringing down the overly curated, elitist image of art." You explain. "By opening the spaces to schools with poor funding and underprivileged students, we give them the chance to explore art forms which were otherwise not an option to them.”
“But Ms - “
"Was I not clear that this is why we started the masterclass series in the first place? To bring the joy of creation and art to the people who have been denied the opportunity?"
"These other schools would have students with more refined - "
Tired and having had enough, you shut the folder in front of you. You were the chairwoman of the board, and this was your meeting. “If you have any objections you can send it in the form of a report on Monday. Detail exactly why we should change our student demographic for the masterclass and how it will boost the conservation’s image as an organisation that aims to bring art to everyone, regardless of their social standing.”
This shuts him up. At the price of more whispers behind your back, but that was something you were willing to take. Another couple more wouldn't make a difference, anyway.
“Anything else, Mr. Choi?”
“Yes, we have yet to decide on the mentor for the next run. I’ve narrowed it down to two artists that we might consider approaching for the next series, which is dance.” At your nod, he clicks on a projector, a face popping up next to a short but detailed biography.
“Both artists have aIready expressed their interest in working with us. I was hoping we could review them today so that we’d be able to start meetings by next week.”
The first face is familiar - a sweet smile with delicate features framed by bangs and long black hair. You’ve seen her before.
“We have Lisa - she’s young, but already making waves in the community. She’s got a fantastic background in dance, graduating top of her class from Juilliard. Well versed in many areas, and she’s made quite a few appearances on big talent shows.”
A good candidate indeed, you think - she’d be very well rounded and able to cater to many different types of dance. Her smile seemed personable too, which was essential.
“She’s talented and a good fit. I can definitely see her potential, but I’m just concerned she might be too fresh to the industry. I want someone who knows it intimately. Knows the grit and dirt of it all but still performs like it’s their first debut. That fire.”
You twirl your pen between your fingers slowly, considering her for a good minute.
“Did we have another artist we were looking at partnering with?”
“Ah. We were originally going to move forward with Hoshi as the second candidate, but given the group’s coming tour, that won’t be possible anymore. But recently we’ve managed to find someone else whom I personally feel would be our next best choice to headline the next masterclass. Actually, I do have to give credit to Mr. Kim for making the connection here.”
You glance over at Mr Kim and he shrugs smugly, but you smile tightly and give a go ahead gesture to Mr Choi anyway, who fiddles with his laptop momentarily. A new face pops up on the screen, and ripple of approval to move through the room - this person is clearly an excellent choice.
Your heart drops through your chest, so quickly it makes you nauseous.
“Jung Hoseok has expressed interest in working with us.”
By some miracle, you gather your wits enough to manage a response.
"Do we have any other candidates, Mr Choi?"
"I second Jung Hoseok, Ms. ______" Mr Kim pipes up. You can tell he senses your reluctance; he's pouncing on it. "I see no reason as to why he's a bad fit. He's popular here, and even in Japan and China. This is KY Entertainment we’re talking about. President Kwon has expressed an interest in partnering with us before, and I'm sure the rest of the board would agree that this would be a good opportunity to get the ball rolling."
"I see where you're coming from, Mr. Kim. I'm just concerned that Hoseok's main... main focus isn't dance at the moment."
"Hoseok is also an idol and musician, but he did first start out as a dancer - a very talented one at that. I'm sure you of all people would be familiar with that information, since his shot at stardom started under the scholarship that your family funds, does it not? It is also a plus point that his humble beginnings align with our company vision."
Mr Kim leans back in his chair and laces his fingers over his lap. He knows he's won.
Your pen taps on the table out of habit, but you're the image of calm and collected. You pride yourself on being a logical person. Level headed and always appropriately detached when it came to making important decisions regarding future business developments. Challenging your word wasn’t frowned upon, you made sure that everyone under you knew that. But should they decide to, they had to make a damn good case with the facts if they were ever to do so - just because your arguments were ironclad.
As much as you hated the greasy man, he wasn't wrong, and you were the one grasping at straws here. Hoseok, you knew, was more than qualified for the position. So unless you wanted to explain to the entire board that your decision to axe the best candidate for the masterclass series involved your pride and a bout of residual emotions from a teenage infatuation, there was no way out of this.
"Mr Choi, what are your thoughts?"
"I'd have to agree with Mr Kim, Ms. ____. KY Entertainment is powerful. they would be a good partner to have on our side.” Mr Choi reasons. “And they’re not just offering us their rookie idols. It’s Jung Hoseok.”
You hate that it sounds like they're trading you a prime piece of meat, and you hate it even more that just his name is enough for him to prove how much he’s worth.
And that is how, four mornings later, Hoseok sits across you in your office, reclining into the armchair as he tests the cushioned give of its backrest. Your expression is schooled and placid, but he had given you a small smile nonetheless as he’d entered. The tiny butterfly that has wandered it's way into your office together with him flits across your chest, and you mentally shoo it out of the window with vigour.
Mornings are mostly unproblematic, generally tolerable and everything was definitely one hundred percent under control.
_______
PREV / NEXT
It's been a while, my friends! Enjoy the new chapter. Things start to get interesting here, and more characters will be introduced soon.
Thank you @ggukkieland on tumblr who is a sweetheart and actually noted this work on her cherished reading list compilation and motivated me to start where I left off. Life really happened to me in the last few months and I really neglected my writing, but I’m excited to try and get back into it.
As much as I write this for my own enjoyment, when people let me know they enjoy my work, it fuels me to do better!
Stay safe loves, till next chapter! x
