CAN'T YOU SEE ME?

“i think there’s a reason there’s not many people like me,” jooae sighed, once again getting in the groove. since becoming an idol, she’d learned to cook quickly. her ability to dice an onion in seconds was a skill so revered it was often showcased on variety shows during promotions. “it’s exhausting. i’d love to have people say things to or about me and just… not care. to be able to say no to things, stand up straighter, be someone people don’t see as a target or a victim.”

she pursed her lips for a second, silence settling between them (of course, with the exception of the kitchen sounds they were producing as they hurried along). “i love performing, but sometimes i can’t help but wonder if maybe i should’ve been a trainer or teacher instead. the freedom i’d have…” she furrowed her eyebrows. she wasn’t sure if she regretted anything, per se, but she’d definitely thought about what she’d be like in other lives. “have you ever had second thoughts about being an idol?”

odum had to agree with the younger woman — it wasn’t always a easy to stay soft and sweet, especially in their industry, where they could be teared down for just about anything. still, having someone like jooae around sometimes felt like a breath of fresh air, something vastly different than the other idols they encountered on a day to day basis. 

“i was so sure of what i wanted as a teenager, but once i graduated all of that just disappeared.” hence the army, where he might’ve stayed had circumstances been different; kmg had, at that point, felt like an unreachable dream, too unrealistic for him to rely on. “and now, i just know what i don’t want, but that narrows it down well enough.” and he also knew what he couldn’t live without, which perhaps answered that question even better. “well, we’ll see where it goes, but one day we’ll have to deal with the group being split. but you could see it if you just asked, odum.”

he laughed at the suggestion, shaking his head. “that’s too mindless for me, i can’t do that stuff. leave the knitting to bandit and let me do, i don’t know, pottery?” his first attempt hadn’t turned out that great but he knew if he wanted to, he could learn. seungyong wasn’t the type to give up on anything he wanted to excel at. “someone is bound to look over it at some point, but if you need an opinion you can always email me the files. though i can’t promise our taste will line up perfectly.” he abandoned the pistachios, mostly because the heap of shells had become larger than the ones leftover. “even if you just keep it to yourself, that’s a step in a good direction, right?”

“i never knew. probably why i never finished high school in the first place.” it wasn’t so much that she regretted the decision — it had brought a lot of good into her life — but it wasn’t something she was exactly proud of. in the last year or so, she’d considered maybe going back to school and finishing at least that but, then again, she didn’t know. the future still felt uncertain and far way, and she tried not to worry about it too much. “asking is such a chore, too much energy involved.” she laughed softly, smile returning to her features.

there was a period of time that yeseul picks to the title of the ‘golden era’ of her life — the life where every nook and cranny of a shitshow bar and underground pub became her walking stage. drunken dazes with the stench of cigarette smoke, and she attributes odum to be the wingwoman, no. the partner to each and every step into adventure — until one day, the figure closer than any blood bond sibling dissipated into the air around.

“you want to know? say it like you mean it.” she huffs, the lightness still lingering on inside her tone. and it wasn’t necessarily like falling into the nostalgia of old times, or the plagued cliche of picking up where they last left their loose ends for it still feels like they’re in a state of limbo — a push, pull. unsteady beat that leaves yeseul confused in the midst of it all. “spoiler: i needed money so i came to atlas.” and it’s all she gives, knowing one curt sentence summarizes the broad overview of the time lost between.

but she know they’re near strangers, no. something dancing upon the lines of foreigners, leaving yeseul nothing but a raised brow and a widened turn of lips. “come on, and i’ll start my story — without the sob story. let me tell you, i got disowned by my parents.. finally! a breath of fresh air and now i’m thriving. now, do you have any fun spoilers for me?” yeseul asks, turning her chin over to her left to see any hints of nosy eyes prying into their conversation.

.

“ah, you’re not going to make me beg.” she laughed softly, her tone lighter than it’d probably been in weeks. though it had been quite some time since yeseul and odum had been together, she still felt a closeness to the other, unable to hide the lighter parts of herself like she’d done with the members of snc thus far. being around yeseul felt like the ice around her was melting, even if at a glacial pace — but it still felt good.

listening to her story, the words didn’t exactly feel like a surprise — from what she remembers, yeseul’s parents weren’t the best. “their loss.” odum commented with a shrug — even if the idea of a parent disowning their child triggered something inside her, she did her best to push it down and barrel on. “you were always thriving, don’t lie.”

at the mention of spoilers, odum couldn’t help out but let out a small laugh again. “you think i pay attention to anything that doesn’t directly involve me?” the question seemed self centered but the truth was odum could barely focus these days — she had gone in full survival mode as she signed to atlas, and it was proving difficult to get out of that mindset, no matter how hard she tried. “unfortunately, i’m not the one you should go to for spicy gossip — i barely know what’s going on, yeseul.”

“i’d love to see you try, mae sarang,” jooae said strongly before her voice became a little quieter and she added on a tiny “-ssi” just to make sure her member knew she was still respectful. but the smile still sat on her flushed face as she continued her work.

but her expression softens once more with the tone that odum then takes with her. of the people that had always had her best interests at heart, odum had made her way to the top of the list from the day they’d met. she got the impression they’d be in their eighties and she’d still be checking in on her to see if she’d eaten enough. “some people handle it a lot better. and i think you’re the only person who’s ever said that to me.” she glanced up at her before returning to her task. the kitchen was getting even hotter with another person in it. “i just wish i could be a little tougher. just a little bit. like you.”

“yah! i’m your elder, show some respect!” she laughed, pointing at the younger with the knife in her hand. it was only a tease, knowing that she’d allow the maknae just about anything if she stared at odum with her big eyes for just long enough.

“i know, i know. at least you guys aren’t my actual younger siblings because they have it worse.” despite having an unrepairable relationship with her parents, she was awfully close to all of her siblings. even the ones she didn’t grow up with. “actually, jooae might have it the worst. she’s youngest out of both essence and my siblings.” it was no secret that eunjoo considered the entire team to be apart of her family, increasing it by five people.

“i just think it’s stupid how i expected any different from them.” eunjoo grew silent as she thought about the past few days, about how she felt like nothing at all. with a sigh she closes her eyes, feeling herself grow emotional. the older woman was just tired of ignoring what bothered her, and odum was someone she could share her concerns with. “i’m really happy that essence turned out the way it did for the most part. i really feel loved here.” she admits, slowly opening her eyes as tears began to well up in them. alarmed by that, the leader didn’t want odum to think it was more serious than she was letting on, so she immediately went to address it. “i’m fine, i really am. i just haven’t cried in a while. i’m also just really, really happy that i have others to lean on. it wasn’t always like that. i felt so alone back then, but i will no longer feel like that because i have you all.”

“jooae will always have it worse — she’s stuck with all of us, no matter what.” it was no secret how much all the older members dotted on the maknae, odum especially. her soft spot for the youngest member only grew bigger with each passing day, as it did with for all of the members of snc. “you have it pretty bad too, though, because we all worry about you too.”

For Minkyu, being the best vocally, or at dancing, or at any one thing wasn’t good enough for him. He had to be an all rounder, ready to excel at anything that was thrown at him by his company. If an opportunity was presented, the dancer wanted to be their go-to person. When they need someone to be a visual, or be somewhere, or sing something, he wanted to be the first name that popped into their minds. He works the hardest, and he cares the most. Which, was one of the many reasons the flooding situation had been a particularly difficult pill for him to swallow.

Once he’d been given permission from the woman to just practice, it was like he was stunned for a moment, feet rooted into the floor unable to move. Originally, he had been going over the choreography for his solo stage that would be debuting in the coming months. Now, he felt sort of… Awkward. Partly because there was a sense of personal pride, not wanting to reveal an unfinished product. Especially when Summit hadn’t even approved it yet. “How will you practice with no music? Are you just going to watch me, then? That doesn’t seem productive.” Really, he wouldn’t blame her if she was planning just that.

.

odum had never been a fan of summit media, and how they seemed to be set up to have all of their idols constantly competing with each other, even past debut. it didn’t seem like it was fair — even if she wasn’t a fan of their system, she could admit that summit did have some real talent, which was evident from just looking at the dancer in front of her, and the end of his choreography when she had walked in. she had had that kind of drive when she was young and starting out, making a name for herself in the rap scene but she’d also be the first to tell you that she no longer had that energy — but it was still refreshing to see.

“i’m not a very productive person.” though the words weren’t necessarily true, she didn’t feel the need to tell him that. after all, the goal was to let him practice in peace, not make him feel like a burden. “i have things i can work on, i’ll be fine without my music. you can go ahead.” she shrugged, pulling her oversized purse closer to her to pull out her laptop in an attempt to maybe write more lyrics, though she doubted she’d get very far.

It wasn’t a surprise that at the mention of Cammy and Feta, the attention had turned to them. They weren’t exactly usual pets, and with their curious and inquisitive nature they always found themselves to be the centre of attention one way or another. Watching from a distance, Bandit had one hand tucked securely in their jacket pocket, leaning against the wall with their own mug of coffee in their other hand as they wanted the interaction. They felt… Happy.

“They’re decent company,” Bandit replied softly before sipping at their coffee, a content ahh sound leaving their lips as the hot caffeinated drink hit the pit of their stomach. The rapper didn’t mention as much yet, but they assumed that if Odum shared the main bed, the four of them would be bunking together.

“Do you wanna see the rest of the house?” The Particle member questioned, finally padding over quietly to the cat tree and rubbing at one of their cat’s ears, looking over at Odum with a raised brow before heading towards the stairs. “There’s a bathroom and a half built studio over there, but the rest is up here.” 

.

one thing she missed about having her own home was the ability to make it completely your own, just like bandit had. the dorm was a shared space, a medley of all the snc members personalities and it was nice — but, often times, it didn’t feel like home. of course, this wasn’t something she’d ever vocalize to the other members of her group but she couldn’t help but feel just a little more at home in bandit’s place than her own dorm, a sense of familiarity overcoming her even if she’d never been here before.

smiling at the cats in front of her she couldn’t help but boop their heads with a grin before returning her attention to the other rapper. “sure, i’d love to see more.” she answered as she sipped at her coffee, a small flame of excitement deep in the pit of her stomach at the idea of bandit opening up their home to her.  any tension she’d had before coming was now gone, odum finding herself feeling a lot more comfortable a lot more quickly than she’d anticipated.

Bridal Shower ||

She wore a simple white dress and a crown of orchids on her head, brown curls curls boucing against her pale exposed shoulder ,the white flowers glowing softly in the light. She turned to see details of the dress in her back, the fitting of the gown on her waist and the lenght, slight annoyed that it made her feet trip. The personal shopper told she looked like a forest spirit,  and that the dress was a perfect match for the winter.  But Miranda disagreed. She’d feel cold and start sneezing at her own reception, which is not something she longed for. 

They were treating her with expensive champagne and strawberries, imported chocolate and bright smiles. Perhaps that’s one of the luxuries money provided: everyone suddenly cared about you if you had it.  Leaving the fitting room, kicking the fabric in order to not fall, the girl put her hands on her waist while looking at her friend. “So that’s dress number #6 and, according to my mother-in-law, it’s supposed to bring out my ‘natural beauty’.” her fingers curled in quotation. “I think she wants to kill me with hypothermia. Still, way better than number #3 that just made me look like a cake out of a rococo painting. What do you think, Sarang?”

@odumvld

miranda had become a close friend to odum, someone the rapper cared deeply about so, of course, when the woman had asked her to come along to try on wedding dresses, odum had made a point to carve out her schedule to allow herself to be present at the outing. it was fun, watching the make up artist try on white dress after white dress but, in the back of her mind, thoughts of her own wedding that never happened kept popping into her head, only to be drowned out with every passing sip of champagne. 

she remembered odum to be different — void of the shadow that seems to shelter the hoarse words that flit from the rappers lips. instead, she drew odum to be lighter, a domineering persona that presented the center of light in the musky, dark pubs of the underground scene. yet, here they were — the same yeseul and odum — with a veil of uncertainty embedded in the conversation, reminiscent of two lost strangers staggering along the same path. 

but the smile’s enough to create a mirror image onto yeseul’s features, cheekbones livening at the notion of her name being spoken by a voice she’s far too familiarized with. “you want to know?” she furrowed her brows together, jutting her chin backwards in a waft of doubt for the question posed. because in reality, the story bringing her to the fateful company was a story backdated with loose ties, she still had to manage even after the treacherous four years that bound her name to a black line.  

“you look awful. atlas really did something to you, huh?” and even time had no way of feigning faux words wrapped in pretty nothings for yeseul was still the little girl with blunt words, parading through the underground scene. but she coddled her words with an extension of her arm, draped loosely across the younger female’s shoulders. “do you have time for coffee while i tell you my life story since we’ve last talked?”

.

if she was being honest with herself, odum had to admit that she barely even felt like herself recently — and that she wasn’t even sure what herself was supposed to be anymore. it was easy to mold herself into the trainee atlas wanted her to be, putting in the minimum amount of effort to be considered good, but that wasn’t who she was and anyone who’d known her before (or had the time to look her up online) would be able to tell you that. 

the smile on yeseul’s features was enough to lighten the weight on the rapper’s shoulders, even just for a second. it felt like ages since she’d seen a familiar face and, really, it felt good to finally see someone she knew. “i do want to know.” she nodded, as though the answer was an admission of some kind. yeseul had been someone she cared about and to end up at the same company surprised her.

at the woman’s words, odum couldn’t help but let out a puff of air similar to a laugh. if only she knew. “atlas played a part in it, sure.” she confirmed without going into detail. so many things still felt so fresh, lingering just below the surface — it didn’t feel like anything that could just be brought up in public, nor was it anything odum wanted to bring up around anyone who might overhear.

eunjoo grinned at seeing a smile on odum’s face. “that’s really good to hear. i know i don’t have to worry as much with you,” odum could take care of herself and she knew that. well, all of them could, but eunjoo still had adopted the big sister role and that came with built in concern. “but there will always be a part of me that worries, even if it’s just a teeny tiny part. i just want to make sure everyone is doing alright. i’m happy when all of you are.”  

eunjoo walked over and sat in the spot odum patted. “i have a lot on my mind and need to find something distract myself, but i feel like i have nothing to do, which is a first.” her feet were tapping softly against the floor as she spoke, still trying to work the restless energy out of her. “it’s been years of the same result but it still stings, you know? it’s like i doesn’t exist to them. at least until we comeback. i keep telling myself it’s the last time but i keep going back after some time.” it pained eunjoo to know that her parents don’t care much for her unless she’s doing well in essence. “so it’s nothing that i haven’t faced before, but i can’t really focus on anything because of it, and that leads to be getting bored easily. so now you’re stuck with me for a while.”

when she’d first joined atlas, odum hadn’t like the idea of anyone worriying about her or attempting to take care of her — she was a grown woman, having more than proved she could take care of herself just fine on her own. nowadays, it was nice to have the support of the likes of eunjoo and yeseul, their worry about the rapper only warming her heart. 

There was almost nothing in Bandit’s apartment that matched anything else, a perfect blend of mismatched furniture, accessories and oddities. If you squinted, you might swear there was a hint of a theme to what was going on. But if you asked Bandit, they’d simply tell you they just think they’re neat. This goes for everything they own from the several couches placed in their large living room, so the cutlery crowding the drawers in the kitchen. They supposed that also included the silly Santa Clause mug in Odum’s hands, filled almost to the brim with hot coffee.

“Gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you. A second hand store of some sort,” they spoke with a small shrug, blowing gently on the brim of their own coffee to try and cool it before they took a sip, hoping it wasn’t too hot to drink. The air between two old friends was comfortable, and suddenly they found themself very pleased that they’d taken the plunge to deliver those soaps to Odum in person that afternoon.

“Okay, well if you follow me…” Beginning to walk, they started to lead Odum into the living room, complete with cat tree and two cats attempting to climb it to reach the highest point, wanting to watch what was going on. “This is the main area, and that’s Cammy and Feta. Be careful if you’re sitting down and then you get up, they’ll take your spot.”

.

from what she’d seen, the place was so uniquely bandit that she knew no other place like this existed. it was warm and familiar without ever having seen it, but she would swear up and down that this is always the kind of place she’d pictured the rapper in, even a decade ago. little things like that only served as reminders that, even though quite some time had passed, bandit was still bandit, and she was still just mae sarang — idol life be dammed, they still both had hints of the teenagers they once were.

taking some more time to appreciate the mug in her hands, she couldn’t stop the smile spreading against her lips. what a stupid mug was her only real thought as she took another sip of her coffee, shaking her head slightly. “i love it. it’s ridiculous and i love it.”

following bandit around, she couldn’t help herself from grinning at the cats — she’d heard about them, yes, but it was different from seeing them in person. taking her mug in one hand, she approached the both of them with her hand out, letting them sniff at her as they pleased. “i think they’re lovely.” she spoke in a soft tone, attention having completely shifted from her friend to the two animals in front of her. 

jooae shot odum a small, grateful smile before returning to her work again and easing up a little bit. “i’d love to see you try,” she replied to the playful threat. “you can’t even touch the top of my head without reaching, unnie. be careful not to make promises that you can’t keep.”

she busied herself with finishing up the task of cutting the tofu so it could cook quickly and in bulk. “i thought that a home cooked meal might help ease the sting of what happened. my friends in the group kind of… implied that they were having a hard time. and cooking generally helps me get my mind off of bad things. with comeback i’ve been a little all over the place.” it was a hard admission, but odum had always been a person she’d felt safe being a little more vulnerable with. she doubted it was news to her anyway. “and we’re making doenjang jjigae. i figured it would be easiest to make a lot of with kimchi and rice and sukju namul.”

at jooae’s comment, odum couldn’t help but laugh. “hey! just because i’m short doesn’t mean i’m not strong. i can and will launch you through this ceiling, im jooae.” she threatened with no real bite, smiling the entire time she spoke. it was easy to get like this with the maknae, as she’d always have a special spot in the rapper’s heart.

To Minkyu, practice is probably the most important thing in the world. If he doesn’t practice, he can’t be the best, he can’t be perfect, which means he can’t stand out from the other twelve members he constantly has to share the spotlight with. As pleased ( sort of ) as he is with the fact that Odum doesn’t seem to want to kick him out of the practice room, he can’t understand why she would give it up. If the shoe was on the other foot, he couldn’t have been quicker to kick out whoever was taking up his space. Regardless of how much the other person may need it, it’s a given that Kyuu wants it more.

Looking the other idol up and down, Minkyu squinted as he tried to comprehend the fact that for the first time in day, he was free to do as he wished. “Well, I-” He had to pause for a moment, emotion almost overwhelming him as he inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to regain his composure. The dancer almost said thank you, but instead he settled for once again squaring his shoulders, trying to make himself seem bigger than he really is. “You’ll need to use headphones, then.”

.

unlike a lot of other idols, odum had already made a name for herself before joining snc, though maybe not to the extent she had now. still, her image allowed her a certain amount of leeway from fans — they didn’t expect her to be the best dancer or even the best vocalist, as long as she could still be considered the best rapper in the group. she still practiced and did her best with every single comeback but, in moments like these, she didn’t feel so bad at the fact that she was giving away her own practice time to the younger man, being able to feel that he needed the space not only to practice, but to feel like himself.

giving him the time to collect himself, odum smiled slightly and let herself lean back against the couch comfortably, bringing her phone back in front of her face. there was no need to make a big show, to act like she was being a saint because she was giving up the room — she didn’t really want to practice today, anyway. “i’ll be fine without them.” she shrugged, scrolling through her texts messages to find the person she was looking for. looking at kyuu from the corner of her eye, she shooed him and his bird like stance away from her. “really, just practice. if i’m bothered, i’ll just leave.”

starter for @odumvld, backtracked to 2016ish.

atlas becomes her home from 2012 onward — four years in, and she’s no longer treated as livestock ready to be tamed. instead, yeseul’s become the wrecking ball force with a loaded tongue. the ins and outs of the company now engrained in her head as her body struts down the halls in charge clad in a suit and red soled heels. on her left wrist becomes her staple favorite — a cartier watch that tells the time she no longer has, signaling her onto the next lesson of foreign languages to keep in her disposal.

her heels tap against the floors in rhythmic motions with eyes that catch the void of details of faceless bodies that maneuver through the hallways in robotic motions. she’s one in a sea of robots, calculated patterns instinctively seizing her subtle quirks — that is, until one face reveals itself familiar. “odum,” her voice mutters out loud, a spillage of an inside observation fleeing her lips. it proves the force that pulls her chin in a subtle tilt, and a complete stop at her tracks till instinct kicks in once more, and her legs free trudge towards the rapper.

“i would’ve never thought we’d run into each other — out of all places, inside atlas.” her eyes narrow, lips curl into a soft smile. and her tone dances on the edge of something warm, yet distance with the confusion and nostalgia that collects in her eyes. “do you want to tell me how you got here or should i just start rattling off my affair that left me tied to atlas?”

six months ago, if you’d told the rapper that she would’ve found herself inside the walls of atlas records, having signed her name against the dotted line, she would’ve called you a liar. but time had been flowing strangely and, really, nothing about odum felt like it had six months ago. everything had changed so quickly and she wasn’t sure if she’d even fully caught up yet.

she’d once been such a larger than life personality, demanding all the attention on her — a harsh contrast to how she stood now, body swallowed in an oversized tracksuit, colors muted as though to melt into the background. her goal was mostly achieved, going from training to training quietly before probably getting a quick bite and heading home. it had become a routine over the last few months, and odum stuck to her routine as much as she could.

of course, it was never that easy.

“i realize it’s a bad idea. i should’ve just sent them delivery from somewhere,” jooae replied, resignation thick in her voice. “but i’m far enough that there’s no point in giving up now.” she didn’t even want to turn and look at the expression on odum’s face. she could practically feel her disapproval burning the side of her face. 

she only looked up when she felt her member take up a position beside her, relief coloring her features almost immediately. “unnie, i’d hug you if i wasn’t covered in chili oil right now.” many spills had happened. she figured that didn’t need much explaining. when she got anxious, she got frantic and there was no room for that kind of energy in a kitchen as small as theirs was. “okay. uhm. yes. can you start chopping up all the veggies on the far end of the counter? they need to start frying really soon.”

though she agreed with jooae, odum thought it was sweeet that the maknae had gone so out of her way to make a meal for the group, showing them a kindness that she was sure they weren’t receiving from other atlas artists. “no, you can do it. you know i believe in you.” she assured, not wanting to plant a seed of self doubt into her members head.