zombie

“i’d like to do more next time,” junhwan says, perfectly candid as he sits back in the plastic folding chair across from one of his coaches, legs spread wide with his hands clasped between them. it was his first thought when he saw the lyrics sheet for my house, and his first thought when they were all pulled aside to watch haru’s performance on the day of the concert too. he’s still not sure that he likes the spotlight all that much, but junhwan’s starting to consider the privacy invasion -- by the company, like, never even mind the way fans can apparently get -- might be worth trading for a chance to do the only thing he’s even close to feeling passionate about. he wants more lines. he wants more time standing on stage.

he’s never felt much of anything, always choosing to suppress his emotions as he feels them rising within him, but that day, watching the members of haru, he was able to see himself up there one day too ... or, well, in ten or so minutes, when performed my house. but, y’know. “context,” he says. 

he shrugs his shoulders and slumps farther back in his chair, far enough that he can rest his head on its back behind him. it’s a precarious position, clearly testing the plastic chair’s limits. 

lgcyein​:

     she thinks about a lot of things at once — what drink she’s going to get ( especially if she’s not paying ), if she should work on that choreography set she was having trouble with today, if she should just give up on the idol life in general and do something else. all of them are valid and important, but they get pushed back as she looks at him, at his hand on the table, and wonders what that’s about.

     these days, what he wants from her hangs like a big question mark above her head, always keeping her guessing. what she wants from him might be an even bigger one, but it’s one that she can ignore until she figures out the first — whatever conclusion she comes to would probably be based on that anyways, and until then she’ll take everything with a relative calm.

     yein pauses, placing her hand deliberately on the table as well, letting it rest a few inches away from her’s as she holds her drink with the other. she thinks it’s just ambiguous enough, a safe place to be for the time being. 

     suddenly, she does feel a bit like she’s in a high school drama, minus the uniforms. she’s never been the type for things like this, but she supposes there are exceptions to every rule.

     “hm? the lgc girls summer thing?” she tilts her head, looking at him as she shrugs. “no.” her answer is definite and matter of fact, just like her decision had been after the few minutes that she had spent considering it. yein already hated dance practice, and picking up on choreography was never her thing, so an opportunity to do that but in a bootcamp style? yawn. “it seemed like a lot of effort, and besides…” she pauses, “i think i want to be an actress instead of an idol. acting is more fun anyways, and i won’t have to dance.”

he smiles. sometimes junhwan wonders if both of them are in the wrong industry -- he’s gunning for a space in the spotlight that he isn’t even sure he wants. what yein wants is an even bigger mystery: him? or a friendship? or nothing at all? or, acting, apparently. 

“you should do it,” he says, almost immediately as soon as the words are out of her mouth. he worries that maybe he seems too enthusiastic, but figures that it’s too late for him to start trying not to make a fool out of himself in front of her. time and time again he’s tripped over his own feet in an effort to impress her, with various levels of success. he wasn’t always so serious, or so typical in his endeavours. he never used to be the type to take her or anyone out for a drink before nightfall. times change though, he supposes, especially quickly when he feels like time is running out. “acting, i mean. you’re good.” a pause. “you’re unreadable sometimes.” 

and he wonders how that can be. how can she be so straight forward and yet a mystery to him all at once. junhwan thinks he’s sick of dancing too. it’s there, hanging on his tongue, the things he really wants to say, too attached to the feeling of almost.

eunholgc​:

eunho had decided to grab his water bottle and make sure it was filled with water, but then when he suddenly felt a clap on his back, he turned his head, and his wide eyes met with junhwan’s. for a moment, he was confused, but then he remembered that this week was junhwan’s leadership week. the previous week he had gotten the chance to lead; it was an experience he had yet to have; even when he had been in middle school, eunho never bothered to volunteer as captain for the soccer team ( even they tried to urge him ).

his confused expression gets exchanged with a knowing one, and he smiles upon hearing the other’s question.

“ i am feeling alright, a little stiff from yesterday’s workout, ” he nods; eunho had decided to visit the gym the previous day. he hadn’t been able to go for the last few weeks, but he’d managed to find an hour the previous day.

seeing this side of junhwan made eunho want to laugh, considering when they were in their dorm, they never spoke about things that revolved around training.

eunho wants to laugh when he listens to the other babble, “ i am not feeling shaky. my body feels tense after yesterday, so i need to stretch appropriately today and make sure my body is warmed up. ” lifting his brows he wonders how he can make this entire experience not awkward for junhwan, “ wanna help me stretch? ”

“yeah? man, no wonder,” awkwardly, probably somewhat inappropriately, junhwan squeezes eunho’s shoulder where his hand lays. he’s trying to say the gym hours are paying off, trying to tell him he shouldn’t work himself so hard. all that comes out, though, is, “you’re fucking crazy.” because you’d never catch junhwan in the gym on a day off or during a free hour -- but eunho already knows that. he wonders how many times eunho’s walked in on him in their room, blacked out and face down in his underwear on his bed, making the most of spare time in the only way he knows how. “uh, you should take it easy if you can today then, y’know? ... or not, yeah.”

he nods, lips sucked up to his teeth, hands on his hips. “yeah, man, no problem. get on the ground.” it’s therapeutic in a way, going through the same old stretching routine, pulling nearly gently on eunho’s legs, giving his shoulders a brief rub -- “your back could cramp up if you’re not careful, i don’t wanna have to deal with that.” he does his own set too, finishing what he started before he turned his attention to eunho, pushing himself and his bendy limbs further than he would anyone else. his reflection looks a little freaky, even to him, so junhwan keeps his eyes trained on the practice room floor until it’s time to shake himself out, limb by limb, from wrist to shoulder and from ankle to hip. 

maybe he’d been feeling more tense than he’d realised too, because he feels much better now. or, maybe the seal on his leadership duties had just been broken, and surprise! he’d made it way scarier than it needed to be. 

lgcharu​:

     haru wasn’t sure what to expect when junhwan had asked to go over the questions for the interview workshop together considering they had barely talked much before this, even while they were both on future dreams together. it was just easier for him to stick with those he already knew and was friends with while he focused on doing well on the show, thanks to all the pressure he felt to impress and prove he wasn’t a risk to trust (although admittedly, he was the one to put that on himself).

     however, a part of him does want to get to know junhwan better especially since any time that he could’ve done so was cut short when the other was eliminated so he had literally no chance to because he was busy himself. now was the perfect opportunity though, even if their reason for meeting was less than exciting. haru has no problem talking about his family–and has already on multiple occasions before, even on tv–but he’s beginning to think interviews are not going to be his strong point despite how much he can talk.

     he chuckles hearing junhwan’s complaint, setting down his own paper with the questions on it in his lap where his legs are crossed, and glances at the older, amused. it seemed like there were a lot of them who hated the workshop’s topic this time. “what if they ask you ‘how would you describe your family?’ what will you answer with?” he asks, curious. haru’s a little surprised (but pleased) that it’s not uncomfortable speaking with junhwan like this but he wonders how much he’s allowed to ask about his family without prying.

nose scrunched, junhwan answers first with a long uhhhh, fingers drumming against the ground, impatient for his own answer. he settles with a shrug, lips twisted to one side. “d’you ever do any language classes?” ugh. idiot, of course he had. but more to the point, so had junhwan. he studied english in school, before he dropped out. but he was pretty good -- his teacher had called him an idiot savant. kind of a back handed compliment, looking back. “y’know how they always start with bullshit nobody uses like i have four brothers? i’ll just pull out some shit like that. how would i describe my family? i have parents and brothers. our house was too small for all of us to live together in without killing each other.” junhwan stops himself there, before he starts spewing out more oversharing crap. he might as well have moved out years before he actually did, upon becoming a trainee, since he spent most of his nights stowing away at friends’ houses. to an extent, he feels bitter, but mostly he just hopes that maybe they’ll get along better in the future, once one of his brothers agrees to follow in their dad’s footsteps. “i dunno. something like that, but, like, nicer. i’ll ... just say there was a lot of us and the house was always busy.”

the pressure of future dreams is gone, and junhwan is free to return to his usual state of mind -- after, like, a whole three months of self deprecation. he’s more relaxed than he has been in a long time, reassured in his position by the advent of whatever the hell the company has cooking up backstage.

meanwhile, as he prepares to perform covers for the company’s stupid secret project, whatever the hell they’re up to, half of the guys he was on future dreams with are getting ready to debut. he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little jealous -- toxicity comes so naturally to him, after all -- but he doesn’t care much for the demos or practices he’s heard of v&a’s debuts. that, admittedly, makes him nervous for his own potential debut, but he’s fine for now. shine and my house are songs he likes; he’ll take that. one of the v&a guys, @lgcharu, is a good guy. he’s someone junhwan doesn’t really know that well, someone who he’d like to know better, but before now, he’d been so sucked into his own shit that he couldn’t get to know anybody new. 

now, it’s okay. the pressure’s off, and he can use these stupid interview training things to pull people aside. 

      &    q3 interview workshop   ,

teeny tiny thread tracker to try and keep my shit together! also serving as a proper thread/plot call for interview prep threads, and for any threads with any of the others participating in the trainee evaluation, if anyone is still on the look out too! as usual, i’m available here, and also on twt here for plots.

it took almost a whole month, but junhwan’s name was finally drawn to lead their rag-tag team for their free practice on august 21st. it wasn’t so bad; he wasn’t alone in the endeavour, at least, and his confidence was climbing back to its previous heights -- whether that fact specifically was a good or bad thing remained to be seen. 

he spun on his heels, facing the group with a wicked grin, hands settling at his waist as he strode forward with a step. half of the sureness it carried was fake, half of it was real. a little less firmly, junhwan blew out a breath and trilled his lips, searching the room for something to grip onto. his eyes landed on @eunholgc, who he immediately sidled up to and clapped on the back. they’d settled into a routine in the last couple of sessions, and as everyone started stretching out, junhwan took the opportunity to perform a check up of sorts.

he hates having to get up early, forever moaning that if the company wanted him to succeed, they’d have put him in the evening training group, as he drags his feet from his dorm to the practice rooms. but, at least @lgcyein is in one of the morning groups too. it means junhwan can swing by afterwards, and take advantage of their anonymity to drag her across town for something to eat -- something to drink. non-alcoholic. he’s being good these days, doing his best to push his urges aside because he sees the way his friends look at him these days. is it worry? is it pity? he’s not sure which one is worse. more and more often these days, junhwan thinks he should just say fuck it and kiss her, like something out of a romantic movie. but that would be corny as hell. still, their non-spoken agreement is tiring, and grating on his mind as he offers to pay for her order. 

he slides into a chair, legs arranged haphazardly beneath himself. one hand is close to him, close to his disgustingly milky coffee. the other is halfway across the table, towards yein, spindly fingers slightly outstretched and hopeful. maybe corny is okay, sometimes. he let one important opportunity pass him by already -- he could’ve been preparing for debut right now. the privacy he enjoys so much might’ve been lost to him already had things gone a little differently.

lgc:reflectionmission. junhwan really doesn’t care much word count: 228.

lgcyein​:

     she shoots him a sideways look, keeping her body turned slightly away from him in an attempt to hide whatever she felt from his weird statement. “well obviously. why would we be getting married.” she says the last part under her breath, folding her arms across her chest. it’s just so typical of junhwan to say something that catches her off guard and makes her overthink something that may or may not be an offhanded comment.

     but she chooses to ignore it, because otherwise she would be forced to confront her thoughts and feelings, and it’s much too late for that right now. not that any time is good for her, but company events like these drain every last bit of energy out of her, and give her a good excuse to push things off. this is a problem for later, and right now she has other things to think about. like how she can last another few hours at this event without falling asleep at the snack table and probably getting kicked out of the company for being rude. but the truth of the matter is that she just doesn’t care about two of her bosses getting married — she’s half convinced they’re doing it for tax exemptions anyways.

     “i have a purse but…” she looks at the snack table, then at his pockets. mens’ pants pockets will always be a source of mystery and envy for her, she’s seen people pull entire water bottles out of them like they’re mary poppins and somehow she still has fake pockets on her jeans. “i don’t want to—”

     she’s about to say that she doesn’t want random food crumbs at the bottom of her purse, but she looks around and sees no sign of this party stopping, and it looks like they’re going to have even more speeches, so she weighs her options and gives in. “okay fine, you can put some in my purse, but please only packaged things.” 

he can ignore that. yeah. junhwan chooses to ignore that. “yeah. obviously.” why would they? even if he does like yein (which he does), he doesn’t want to get married within the next, like, twenty years. it’s too old fashioned -- and conflicts too much with his noncommittal sensibilities towards life in general anyways.

if he had to commit to anything though... whatever. all of his commitment slots are currently taken up by his contract with the stupid company anyways. he’s at his max.

luckily, yein agrees to his plan, and now he can actually focus on the scheme at hand instead of her dumb face. as yet another higher up he doesn’t quite recognise takes the stage, and junhwan’s face breaks out into a wicked grin. “let’s do this.”

“hey, i’m not that stupid. even i wrapped up the unpackaged things in napkins before i put them in my pockets.” junhwan scoffs. he can’t claim that he’s not stupid at all in good faith. yein knows that. he hopes that maybe she thinks of him as less stupid than other people do, even if, admittedly, he probably acts the most stupid around and over her. “there’s some packaged chocolate things over here. the little fucking truffle ball things in twisty plastic.” with a tilt of his head, he motioned for yein to follow him further down the table. he picks up a small handful with a cheerful smile thrown towards her, mood fully restored now that he’s up to no good -- albeit, incredibly juvenile ‘no good’, but nonetheless still more interesting than pretending to care that his mortal enemy (read: his manager, who is usually right) is getting laid. that’s what surprised junhwan the most about the whole affair. kim hyuncheol was getting some, and yet still had a stick up his ass.

maybe getting eliminated from future dreams was junhwan’s karma for always thinking shit like that. consider his lesson on that particular front unlearned.