bloom.

“the plan is to transition me from this prince image into something less…” he stops, trying to find a good word. “royal.” is all that comes. the more aroon drinks the worse his korean becomes. “midas realized the fans like when i’m playing my thot ways in a pg, safe way.” he laughs. “but don’t worry, it’s not like i’ll top the charts or anything, i’m surprised they are even allowing me to do this when titanium is not that famous yet.” he remembers his manager words, how it’s a huge opportunity, how this shows midas sees him as a good investment. bullshit. “but tell me, what about you? please tell me 99 is letting you out of the basement and actually doing something with you.” he takes another sip. “i can’t believe they’re not promoting the hell out of you. that’s a whole new level of incompetence.”

“what about like,” she squints at him, attempting to summon an awareness of coherent wording to her mind, but struggling with it. “internalized homophobia. like when you’re so far into the closet you’re in fucking narnia, basically, and act like a dick.” she half explains this with a lofty wiggle of slender, pale fingers. her nose crinkles upwards a little. she’s had a crash course in accepting yourself for all of who you are, bones and skeletons in the closet and shitty mistakes and all. soho has become uniquely accustomed to her own shortcomings and, as a result, foolishly feels everyone else ought to be facing up to them in turn. perhaps that she might suffer less in the presence of company.  aroon continues on with a level of repression she’s only seen in the likes of, say, ryu san, and soho’s response is to smile kindly at him. he doesn’t need her to tell him that’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. 

but she does it anyway. 

“that’s fucking dumb, darling,” she levels out, not unkindly. “it’s already too late fort hat, for one thing. you’ve already just blundered right past the purely platonic.” she points out, laughing a little bit, cheek dimpling slightly with the expression. “but if you want to keep it to yourself, i won’t blame you. there are stupider things than being in love with a co-worker you live with, i’m sure, but i can’t really think of them right now. it’s up on the list, for sure.” she pats his back lightly, rubs comforting circles between protruding shoulder blades. 

he pouts at her about predictability, “even if you weren’t, music is,” she points out, and in fairness she’s not wrong. like poetry, it is so often (at this age in particular) focused on the throes of love and passion, on heartbreak and so forth. “rapping about love does seem a little bit,” she wiggles her fingers, “underwhelming, conceptually, for titanium’s prince,” she tacks this on teasing, interested as the other considers the change of his image. “pg safe thots. sounds delightful.” she laughs, taking a sip from her drink and considering the other, humming a little, “makes sense though. titanium is kind of their...experimental freak flag flying, right? might as well let you guys show off a little. capitalize safely on the idea that you’re super creative geniuses or something.” she shrugs, “they’ve got the money to blow, i’m sure.” 

aroon turns to her and smiles. “obviously. is there anything better than to talk to me and listen to my boy problems?” he asks. “it’s okay, i know it can get busy with all the rehearsing and worrying if your group will ever amount to anything but a footnote in the history of k-pop.” remi is right, he is maudlin. “oh, i’m releasing a solo song in one or two months, can you believe? midas finally let me out of my leash.” he pushes his hair away from his face, wishes he could get a haircut. “they made me replace all the gender neutral pronouns on the lyrics with the word girl,” he laughs, the idea is hilarious to him even now, months later after his initial meeting with the production team. “the homoerotic stuff has to be saved for group promotions, of course. i can only be gay when it’s for some girl’s enjoyment,” aroon says, bitter. “you’re going to support me, right? even if you think the song sucks please tell me it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard, my ego is too fragile.”

“you fucked chanyeol?” she repeats, brow arching, “get it, boy, he’s fine.” she laughs out further, offers a fist to bump. let it not ever be said that soho is anything sort of cringeworthy on occasion, after all. but she has to admit, while chanyeol might not be famed for his good attitude, he’s definitely got a body worth paying attention too regardless. she pauses, “well, did you fuck chanyeol or did chanyeol fuck you?” the twitch of her lips hints at mischief. “not that it matters really. just here for the gossip.” still the point is not to be playful in the moment, the point is to comfort a boy with a conundrum, and so she shifts, swirls the drink in her glass contemplatively. 

“well, codependent or not, i mean, why is he upset?” she questions, “does it take away from time with him, or is it like, he’s homophobic as hell? that wouldn’t make much sense though considering... like, you’re already out to him and stuff.  do he and chanyeol have beef or something?” she feathers her fingers through long strands of hair, shifting down the lengths to begin twisting cherry strands around her fingertips as she considers the situation. hearing milo’s opinion lifts a brow and she shifts, glancing over at him. “you really think it’s that outlandish?” the question hangs between them, “i mean i know... like, the history here but,” she shrugs slightly, “stranger things have happened than a boy in a conservative country being in the closet and in denial about it.” 

still, she doesn’t want to get aroon’s hopes up. doesn’t want to see him hurting on behalf of some straight bitch who can’t take a hint. rude. she would resent hyukjae on aroon’s behalf if aroon was smart enough to resent him himself, but for as long as they’re making pretenses at friendship soho will do what she can to support him, prop him up, to offer him a shoulder when things start to fall apart. it’s a hard thing to deal with, that kind of unrequited feeling. she’s not been in entirely the same position but she’s loved enough straight girls to know the pain of it, at least in fraction. 

“oh shut up. it’s so awkward. and why didn’t you save me? incredibly rude. i can’t believe this. betrayal. heartbreak.” he rambles it all out dramatically, like he might be stuck in the middle of some melodrama of a play. “much better, lets go stay in a swanky hut.” he smiles in agreement, squeezes remi’s hand once before he lets go.

soho’s fingers slip back through her hair, silky smooth in the wake of a good three keratin treatments after dying it to the cherry red that sprouts from her scalp now. she doesn’t love the color, honestly, but it’s better than the blonde that had truly begun to grate on her over the years. she understands, though, the need for the softening of her image, the need to distance her from REMI, from scandal. still, a little variety, finally, has been nice. maybe she’s even looking forward to another comeback. anything to stay busy, stay distracted, to keep working towards these goals that seem so fractured and immeasurable that they’ll surely be out of reach forever. what does she even want? to be a personal legend. to live unforgotten. hilarious. what an impossibility. 

“i mean, you also have the voice of an angel,” she points out helpfully, reaches over to ruffle his hair. “me, i’m just clutching at notoriety through desperation and over-relying on stage presence and big bambi eyes, so like....” she shrugs. sure, she has like, a decent voice, and her dancing is solid enough. but she’s not the pinnacle of talent or anything. she’s not going to stand on stage solo anytime soon without it being a special occasion stage or something for a personal concert for celeste...as if they’ll ever even have one of those. in the group she works well, does wonders. alone? well. there’s a reason not everyone goes solo. 

she smiles, softly, eyes full when she looks at him, because she loves ruwon. she loves him for this moment, for how genuinely he does want the best for her. anyone else could have gotten cocky or cruel, but he’s still her ruwonnie, still her boy, her best friend. “oh, iddn’t you hear. i’ll be on that game streaming show soon. semi regularly. super, super exciting. i’m definitely going to be extremely famous for ... playing...overwatch.” she shrugs. it’s at least a schedule she should excel at, she figures, and she might get some novelty media play ‘look everyone, hot chick plays video games decently’- she doesn’t like being reduced to that, but it’s better than dying in obscurity.