it’s become familiar, almost routine. the way she storms into his studio with a thundercloud frown, collapses onto the little couch in a heap of jutting, slender limbs, concealed beneath a hoodie that she’s probably stolen, given it’s size. it’s hard to be sure from whom - bobby tends to treat everything in the world as if it must belong to her, and the world itself as if it must revolve around her issues. which would, of course, explain why she’s barged into kaito’s work day (work night?) with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, her presence announced in the rattle of ice against the walls of her tumbler, the thump of her bag on the floor, the elongated groan that pulls from her lips.
“i’m having a disaster,” she tells him drolly, when he does not acquiesce to turn from his work immediately and provide her the attention she’s clearly demanding. “i can’t finish this album, i don’t know what i’m going to do. i’ve been writing so much bubblegum all the emotion has gone out of me. i’ve sold out to capitalism just like everyone says.” she laments this dramatically, continuing to escalate her core complaint (writers block, or creative block), into something markedly more absurd, angling for further sympathy (read: attention) in the process. brows arching, she waits for him to turn around.
when he doesn’t quite move quickly enough, a foot extends, nudging at the edge of his office chair to turn it slightly, until he’s forced to abandon the many knobs and dials and sliders arrayed in front of him in order to face her. “you need to pay attention to me, i’m distraught,” she scolds him, the barest hint of a smile at the edge of her lips reading of two things: one, that she knows she’s being absurd and two, that she expects compliance regardless. “play me what you’re working on? or better yet, give me a song so i don’t have to write another one. i’ve used up my allotment of creative energy for the year, i suppose.”
there is a certain moment between wakefulness and sleep that sticks to the brain like molasses. a moment when, half out of the quicksand of a reverie, the brain longs to return to it, spins its wheels in sluggish rotations, a car spinning out in slow motion. the mire clings to the edges of conscience, eager to drag it back down into oblivion.
and then, the advertising truck blares outside the window, a rote voice proclaiming the phone number at which to order this or that or the other, and any chance of hanging on to sleep a moment longer is ended before it could come to fruition.
with this disruption comes a pounding headache. one of her own devising, and she rolls over, face down on the bed with a whimper before she fumbles a hand to the side, haphazardly until she meets telltale plastic and the rattle of pills in a bottle. she swallows one, two, with some difficulty, then replaces it on the side table, reluctantly pulling herself upright and pushing a hand back through her hair. a liberal coating of mascara now weighs heavy on her lashes, eyeliner smudged around her temples.
the world still tilts around her on an unsteady access, and she whines briefly. the sound of her shower running prompts her to search through her mind for who might be inside, casting a glance around furtively when she come sup with next to nothing. fingers sweep nervously through dusty blue strands before freezing, with relief and recognition, as she spots a familiar phone case, the gadget abandoned on top of a heap of clothes.
“sungbin, i’m making coffee,” she tells him, annoyed that he’s beaten her to the shower, “hurry up,” she adds, calling over the rush of water to him, as she passes the miniscule excuse of a hallway into the main room. sluggish fingers move in practiced method to arrange, prepare, and before she’s really gotten out of the fog of her mind she’s sitting at the small round table on one of the two mismatched chairs, studying the wavering reflection of herself. picking up her abandoned jacket, she fishes in the pocket for a handful of rumpled receipts, splaying them out on the table. she hears the door open, glancing up at the looming boy before her, and breaks into a grin despite herself. “i’m puzzle piecing,” she explains, “you got any idea what we did last night?” usually, at least, he’s the one to help her patch up the gaps in the timeline. frowning, she lifts an arm, finds a bruise against the back of her upper arm. “huh.” she frowns, quizzically at it before glancing over at him again. “guess i got myself banged up a bit.” a joke, probably- she bruises like an overripe peach.
reintroducing my muse, im bobae. goes by bo, bobby, bae for the most part but appreciates any and all potential nicknames or puns made on and WILL steal them to use on merch. probably wants to open a streetwear brand on her own someday but that shit’s expensive. the girl is a hustler, grew up broke and is not about to go back to that so catch her putting food on the t a b l e and if you wanna call her out for selling out, well, be her guest. not that it won’t bother her, no she’ll be pissy and sad about it for sure. she’ll also vandalize your property if the situation presents itself. ya girl is a walking misdemeanor. she’s a rising star which means hongdae is turning it’s back on her, something she has extremely complicated feelings about.
her primary genre is electropop and she pulls heavy influence in sound from artists like yelle, yeseo, yaeji, neon bunny, iu (selectively) and others. i’ve got a playlist if you’re interested 6v6. basically i want all the drama and angst and all the possible heartwrenching bs so hmu!
we went to elementary/ middle school /kindergarten together on the wrong side of seoul and played latchkey kid mischief together while our dads finished lengthy factory shifts, we were basically family but life separated us for xyz reasons, now we’re chillin again in hongdae and its kind of weird but nice and nostalgic
we’ve mutually admired each other’s music for awhile now and are finally getting a chance to work together, but there’s a real possibility of backlash for either / both of us due to current rumormongering around bobby’s career so maybe you want to back out or maybe its kind of strained
we came up together in the scene before bo was ‘bobby’ and we were mad close. but, when bobae transitioned to a more electronica type of sound it became kind of strained, because you felt she lost her roots and in general both grew up a lot since then. so there’s some kind of spark or familiarity or wistful connection there but now they’re left feeling at odds trying to chase a lost friendship when our paths have diverged so much
a frequent dalliance, bobby doesn’t exactly NOT sleep around but she’s not a one night stand kind of girl either. she makes big promises and doesn’t follow through, so you can be guaranteed up to one to two months of fun fun fun and then its intermittently reappearing in your life every few weeks like nothing happened. out of sight out of mind?
ride or die besties, soul bonded, tell you everything, the one person that bobae actually doesn’t ghost out on unintentionally. literally she’d kill someone if you even seemed like you wanted it. maybe you’re exhausted by her though, she’s a lot. hopefully someone who is a slight foil to her, someone more solid to weigh down her flighty kite string.
literally just the messiest mess of obsession and love and just being completely over the top about each other, in destructive ways. like just fully a big mess of nonsense and back and forth and all the drama and theyre both just way in too deep and also fully hung up on their own issues and its visceral and brutal and soft and terrible and wonderful.
i’d also love any kind of obnoxious antagonism for the sake of fun, so feel free to throw that at me. those reasons tend to be more interesting if theyre predicated on existing stuff tho so no premade there!
SOUL CRUSHING ANGST FIRST LOVE EX. details tbd based on plotting i just love misery
spontaneous little bits and bobs
we always run into each other at the bus stop going to jog by the han and after awhile i finally came up to you to say hey and now we’re running buddies and its a nice safe space away from the judgement she usually gets but then oops she sees u around the scene and realizes where she knows you from finally and now its not the same
i heard you shit talking me when you didnt know i was around and then you caught me trying to vandalize your motorcycle / some other petty crime lol
i sang guide for one of your tracks and then you heard one of my new songs being shopped around and now we’ve become creative partners that play off each other’s ideas to develop one another, and maybe we’re mutual muses for each other n its just a great creative friendship full of mutual improvement
you caught me making questionable and likely dangerous choices when fully drunk and either went along with me and now we’re tight as fuck or dragged me back to safety and now we’re tight but also in the way where you resent ‘babysitting’ a fool when trashed
![[2월 오픈스튜디오] Be Sexual](https://64.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_on4jxoJp7u1rw5w7jo1_1490031852_cover.jpg)
