power.
@zhangid, filming the ‘power’ mv for chain station.
the song is...not san’s favorite, for chain station. this is the understatement of the century. he thinks he dislikes it even more than tempo -- though how much of that is attributed to the music video they have to shoot is up in the air. he’d sat through the meetings with concept boards, and stylings, and now they’re all on set. which is mostly a lot of green screens and plastic toy guns. at least there’s a cat, for some reason. san had spent a good chunk of time at the beginning of filming where he wasn’t involved hanging out near it. at some point the handler had just passed it off to him and let him babysit. he ended up covered in white fur, and his stylist was in no way impressed. but san couldn't bring himself to care, just waited patiently while she lint rolled off his entire body in a fervor.
eventually though, he has to film. has to go out on set and join the other boys. something san just doesn’t want to do. it feels unfair, considering they have tempo promos as well. it’s just too much time around them all. he’s already counting down the days until they’re able to wrap promoting on music shows. san hasn’t really talked with luke at length since the last time they ended up in a room together to practice. even throughout all of chile, they’d avoided each other. like two magnets flipped the wrong way, repelled in different directions.
san half hopes this will continue now, even as they film some stupid scene together. shoot at imaginary targets at an imaginary location. they all feel too old for this, really. maybe san wouldn’t have minded it all so much if he was still seventeen. but he’s not. He steps outside the bounds of luke’s reach when the shot is called to an end. not that there’s a real threat of luke strangling san on camera. but san likes the distance. wants his own bubble of personal space. doesn’t want to push himself up close to luke and pretend they’re the best of friends when he doesn’t have to.
“move,” is the only thing he mumbles, low and near-under his breath at luke, so he can get by him and hand off the prop to an assistant nearby. he can’t (or won’t) hide the slight glare as he passes luke. defiance and hatred all rolled into one. they hadn’t so much gotten off on the right foot last time they’d met, considering luke threatened to break it. but san’s never been known to cower after threats. it just winds him up in more hatred. spitting angry like a cornered snake.