MOON──STRU⏾K.

what? family? the question makes yesung blink rapidly, as though he’s trying to recall even the smallest one time that midas labels has ever been considered family-esque to him. alas, none. so he laughs, some sort of sick desperation in its blooming from mouth. “we all work here, under the same people with a kind of power that makes it easy to ruin an entire person’s future if wanted. it’s a life exchange more than it’s a … family.” what yesung wants to say, in short, is that it doesn’t mean anything to him. there’s always a line drawn between himself ﹠ the company, never crossed. “and uh, family’s meant to have a sense of belonging to it, no?” a tilt of head, veiled traces of taunt peeking from underneath cracks in icy demeanor; bile swallowed in throat. “i don’t think there’s much of that to find here.”

besides ever-persistent passion for music and the arts, yesung can’t imagine himself taking the chance to redebut regardless if he had it or not. all of this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing; dedication he would not repeat or make the effort for ever again. he’s able to make peace with the fact he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for what his father did years back for him. “do i have to pick one?” brow raised, tongue prods at the inside of cheek in thoughts that annoy him bit by bit. “i really wouldn’t go with either. it seems like a hassle to have to do all of this once more but under someone else or someone new.” yesung is like if a boy was meant for the normal, quiet life──just to have accidentally won some lottery ticket that’s got where he is now.

“as a soloist?” an airy laugh cascades, as if posed as a mask for the awkward thrum of nerves invisible to the camera ﹠ any other apart from himself. “i feel i’ve always gone with what’s darker.” which is no lie, the bias has showed clearly among the albums released in his name. “maybe something more … fun? upbeat? i’m thinking of nightlife, or even street-side.” yesung thinks as he goes, nothing truly pre-planned for questions like these. “as for phaze,” it’s an urge to roll shoulders as a silent ‘i don’t know’ that he holds back on doing. sits still. picks at fingers. “… i’d say i’d like for us to try out horror with traditional coming in as a close second.” the thought of them doing anything all flowers ﹠ rainbows draws shivers down yesung’s spine. h’ah. yeah. definitely sticking to what they do best.

the routine is simple after that. yesung makes his way to the mini park built just adjacent to the store, and he’ll sit there until he feels like going home. alone, mostly. but this time, he finds someone else on one of the swings he usually occupies, and there’s a thumping sensation inside of yesung’s chest, where he’s caught between joining or leaving──ultimately choosing the latter subconsciously as steps tread closer, half-heartedly flopping onto the empty seat. and well, yesung can tell when someone isn’t fond of conversation, so he opts for silence; digging through his plastic bag for a melon popsicle, held between index ﹠ thumb──an offering made towards the company yesung finds tonight, just before the clock strikes ten, on the swing next to him, kicking at piles of sand beneath soles.

until. the thud of something falling to the ground echoes; the shape of a lollipop rolling towards and stopping at the apex of sneakers. at first, yesung stares at it. blinks──thinks it’s peculiar for anyone to be carrying sweets around in the pocket of his jacket … but that’d be unfair for those carry cigarettes on them, like himself. frame lowers, picking the stick between fingers ﹠ returning to upright stance. only this time, he’s right beside the soloist, candy in hand and in view. “this yours?”