BUSAN PRIDE

star qualities,

“I hope so anyway.  I mean, I guess I’m not that old, but still, I’d rather hope that they’d pay more attention to my dancing and singing than that.” she was certainly optimistic about her future, especially when in front of someone who was living the dream that she wanted to follow in.  She was excited to continue down that path, and maybe in a perfect future, she’d be able to train with a company, either with Daehyun at Royal, or somewhere else. She didn’t really have a dream company, she would just be grateful someone gave her the chance to prove herself.  “Oh! That is good to hear, then. I hope we get to see you on stage soon!”

“i hope so, too.” he returned; retreated into reverie. the feeling washed over him–the warmth of desire, the sharp lines of knowing. daehyun wanted to perform so badly but he knew he’d have to train longer, would have to put in more effort; he’d have to give his all for his goal, could only hope that the hopeful he studied was the same way. his lips spread, presented her a smile; a sliver of white; the rush of youth, a reckless freshness like a breeze in a garden. “just work hard, okay? and come see me when you make it in. i’ll remember you.” he finished, swayed to the side, took a step back. there was nothing more to say, only time to waste until the next time; seconds to burn like flares. he turned to leave, tossed her a few last words. “i’ll be waiting–remember that!”

clumsiness.

he’s hyper-aware of everything going on around him, and he thinks that even after six years of growing up in the buzzling city area of seoul, it’ll never change the fact that he wasn’t meant for this. it doesn’t help that everyone in the crowd is so unforgiving, shoving into him and shoving him into others. he’ll never get used to it, the idea of being so small and surrounded. so compact, and if he hadn’t gotten over his agoraphobia from when he was a kid, this would have been horrid. as a rule of thumb, he never goes around in the day, around this time, mainly because he preferred to stay out of people’s way if he could avoid it, but this time he couldn’t. he offers an apologetic smile in return to the other in front of him, “yeah, it’s pretty hectic – i’m still really sorry, though,” he can’t help but apologise because even if it happens, it wasn’t an excuse.

the apology continues–the stranger weaves it with honesty, extends it far enough that daehyun raises his brows, that he crafts a wide smile. it’s almost awkward to just leave, to break the small bridge of contact they’ve had; he thinks different for a moment but the rush around them continues and the crowd swells, their steps sways, their bodies press and push, inject daehyun with that same frenzied spirit; soaks him with an anxious lateness. he manages, though, to fit in a nod, to move to one side to dodge the stream of traffic; he even reaches forward and touches the stranger’s arm, gives him a small nudge so he, too, can escape the tackle of a rushed, suited man. “watch out.” he says, a beat too late. “they’re out for blood today.”

{✱ royal blessing; }

his head tilts and his expression falters, becomes clueless, almost innocent. he has to a blink a few times to fully grasp the situation, and even then he shrugs, isn’t sure of where he’s gone wrong–matching shoes don’t have to be a big deal, he never makes it that way. though when she elaborates, he finds what’s missing; what she’s pointing at; what’s been said and what’s been assumed. it’s then that his lips purse, then that he chooses to focus on the fact that she knows who he is, instead. “ah, so you know my name. and you worry about me, too. it warms my heart to see my fans being so caring.” and then he gives her a warm smile; a genuine line, stitched with light, with honesty. he ignores the employees in the background that squirm; he thinks he hears a squeal. “can you recommend me a pair of sneakers, then? i’m looking for something eyecatching but not cheesy or awful.”

he's just finished a private vocal lesson with mr.kim when he ventures towards the promise of food. his stomach grumbles and reminds him of his promise to take better care of himself, mostly for jongup but also for himself and for his health. he's in dire need now as the large hallways and tall walls swallow his figure, make him small and puny, chaos framed in neat lines, clean shapes. they had been intimidating at the start, but now they're bathed in a familiar warmth, feels like home as he walks through them. even the layout has become common knowledge, each shortcut and edged corner another mindless thought. these, though, had taken time, so he's far from surprised when he comes across a new face, someone he's never seen around the building before. his eyes are wide and he looks lost, an expression so similar to his own early days that it almost feels nostalgic. if there's a reputation he could have, it would be for showing kindness towards the newbies. in them he sees glimpses of himself and fragments of his own path. he approaches with a small, warm smile, holds back a bit of laughter at seeing the helplessness of the other's face. quietly, he says. “i assume you’re looking for the cafeteria? follow me.” and then he turns and gestures for him to follow daehyun's lead.

baby, it's cold outside

I am a pile of ideas, a pile of dreams, a pile of plans, a pile of doubts, and so many other things. I am a pile of piles and it is so overwhelming. Should I get rid of some piles? Should I climb them? Or should I just give up and hide inside them?