honeypot.

{ 🍯 } 시아 & 채원; 엄친아

rich girls are not often wallflowers. that much is clear from observing shiah and chaewon. among the many other things they have in common, a dominating personality tops the list. whereas shiah’s always been more of the queen bee type, chaewon is the high-energy, motormouth type. either way, they both thrive on attention and never fail to speak their minds. it’s a combination that crackles with volatile potential.

chaewon was never quite sure how to feel about shiah, but one thing was for sure: things were exciting with her around. so she never hesitated to dance together with her or just hang out on those occasions when the offer was extended. and the addition of shopping only sweetened the deal; the only thing better than spending money was spending it on clothes. although burberry wasn’t one of chaewon’s top spots, it was interesting to observe shiah’s style.

she glanced at herself in the mirror along the wall. her current athleisure look didn’t quite match the preppy aesthetic going on in here, but it communicated class for sure. next to the taller, more poised shiah, she looked a bit like a hanger-on. at least chaewon was, in her own opinion, the ever-so-slightly superior dancer.

“hm?” chaewon looked up from a row of houndstooth skirts to evaluate the other girl’s picks. “oh, definitely the black. you look better in dark colors.” but with those enviable model looks, shiah could probably pull them both off, chaewon thought. she had yet to try on a tube dress that really flattered her short frame. maybe today would be her lucky day. “can i see the yellow? i wanna try something.”

there was always an air of something just beneath the surface whenever she met up with chaewon. they had personalities that crushed those around them whether intentionally or otherwise but they also had personalities that refused to be crushed. one wrong word, a slip of the tongue, a questionable tone in a statement... it could turn into the next world war, civilian casualties and all. it wasn’t eggshells but they had to be sure to mind the cracks or things could go south very quickly.

shiah thought her and chaewon were very similar and that was even without her mother’s pushing in her ear. in fact, she thought they were too similar. sameness accounted for comfort in relationships but because of their sameness, shiah found herself keeping an eye on chaewon just a little bit more than others. she definitely was 100 times more tolerable than some of the other girls she’d hung out with and that was probably why she was always one of the first shiah considered when going out.

she held the two outfits up for better look as she caught the others attention before she assessed them again following her opinion. truthfully she thought she looked stunning in any color... but chaewon may have made a point. she did enjoy darker colors. she may have looked sweet and like her mother’s favorite doll ( she hated that ) but shiah was not by any means the next cute idol-to-be. not at heart anyways. on camera, it was a different story.

“i like the lace too. it’s kind of sexy.” she softly swiveled her head to cast her hair behind her shoulder, shifting to put the yellow back as she decided to take the advice. “oh?” the sound was one of small surprise. she’d never seen chaewon in anything like this if she wasn’t forced into it and even that was rare. the surprise was clear in her eyes as a gentle amused smile curled at the corners of her full lips. “are you going to wear it? you?” it wasn’t meant offensively but the incredulous tone in her voice was clear. it was just... odd. she handed the dress over, still with a smile. “try it. you never know, right?” 

       ・・ •  •  TRC FLYER FIVE.  for @rkshyoo .

it would be a lie to say he was enjoying this mission, but he still tries to do this best and give the flyers to people who would actually read what was written there and not just throw them away in the next trash bin without even looking. not that he’d care, but since he had to do it, it better have some results for trc or help someone find good information, otherwise it was just pointless and would make him more bothered.

looking around for the next person he could approach, he sees this young lady crossing the street and decides she looked like someone who could become an idol or would have interest in trc, so he walks over to her and bows politely. “would you mind taking one of these?” he hands out the flyer with a smile. “there’s information about trc’s upcoming events and auditions if you’d be interested. maybe you can join them in the future.” 

this was about the second time she’d been approached with a similar offer. it was like the universe had sided with her mother and suddenly all of these idol companies were coming into view when all she used to pay attention to were go-sees. go-sees on top of idol auditions? her mother would run her ragged if she had the power to do so and, by all means, she kind of did. the last one she had gotten was from kt and well... she would never. well maybe... for unit 9. they were all pretty cute.

she pulled an airpod out of her ear and paused her music to listen to him, her eyes first assessing him before she took the flyer and glanced over it. “this time it’s trc...” she mused, humming and giving her head a small nod of approval. they were notorious for not promoting their idols much as idols but instead as brand ambassadors, models and other areas of the fashion industry. that was the exact kind of exposure she wanted and with a name like trc, she knew her mother would be more than happy. they had scandals, sure, but they were loaded. plus there was simon dominic. talk about the epitome of perfection.

{ 🍯 } 시아 & 석우; forte.

He is well aware that he can’t dances as well as his best friend, and that during dance practice Nova coaches are practically on his add the whole time. The thing is Seokwoo can by all means and purposes dance, better than the average person really, especially without any dance background. But compared to trainee standards, he is lacking. Which is why he is yet again stuck in another dance class that he signed up for under the instructions of one of his coaches. 

Nonetheless, he was actually interested in how ‘contemporary hip-hop’ is different from saying the ‘normal’ hip-hop. Taking up space remotely to the backside, it helped that he is the tallest guy in the room towering over everyone with his 191cm bare feet, few more add cm with his shoes on. So it was easy to spot her when she was making her way towards him with a confident smile, “Hello! ‘m Seokwoo, call me Seo for short, and yeah I think so.” Nodding as he takes the bottle from her dainty hand, “thanks… I can dance..? but this is the first time I’m doing this.” Chuckling as he gestures towards the class. “what about you?”

the sheer height difference between the two of them was definitely something that she noticed immediately but it wasn’t stunning to her. she was a model. pretty much all of the guys she’d done pictorials with were around his height. she’d gotten pretty used to craning her neck back just to get a good look at their faces and he fell right into that category. if he wanted to, he probably would fit right in if he had any skill. being conventionally attractive wasn’t nearly as important as being interesting and charismatic but he had a bit going for him as it was.

she handed the bottle over towards him and kept her own close, sipping from it as he spoke. her gaze fell over him once again in what could be seen as slight judgement as she re-assessed him with the new information. he was either new or hadn’t trained in this style much. she just hoped he picked up pretty fast. her head nodded as she was addressed, swallowing her water down before her smile returned. “i grew up mainly doing contemporary and hip-hop so this is pretty much my strongest area of dance.” she set her water bottle down and pulled her ponytail tighter atop her head as she raised her brows inquisitively. “what kind of dancing do you do? like what’s your discipline?”

{ 🍯 } 시아 & 은비; pimple popper.

Three out of the eight girls are currently debuting. There is still a high chance that Chaeyeon would not make it to the final twelve girls that would make up the new girl group of Sphere. Needless to say, she would go back into KT and continue on as a trainee there in hopes to debut with the trainees there who she has come to consider as family. 

So when one of the girls suggested she take up the skincare and makeup workshop, ‘for future references’, Chaeyeon shrugged and went along with the rest of them. Except when she got there later than the rest of the girls, which meant Chaeyeon had to find a spot a little farther from them.

Which actually works fine for her, as she sneaks open a bag of snacks that she bought before making her way to the workshop. The reason why she is late, to begin with. Opening the first roll of kimbap, she was just about to take a bite when she caught a glimpse of someone trying to peak at her snacks. Turning towards a fellow workshop taker, Chaeyeon held out her kimbap to offer it to the other girl silently. 

her nutritionist would have her head. this was not what she was attending this workshop for but to go all day on only one meal so far, they had to remember that she was still a growing girl. but being a model always came first. she was here for skincare. skincare... skin... she hadn’t even realized that she had been staring so intently at the kimbap until it shifted closer towards her direction. her eyes widened and her gaze darted from the food up to the owner with muted shock and slight embarrassment.

her first instinct was to refuse, a hand coming up to softly deny with a gentle shake of her head but her features showed it was a clear lie. lunch was just so far off... she ate healthily and she ate often enough to maintain her body according to her nutrition plan but being as active as she was there were more times than not she wanted to snack all day long. she could see her mother’s head rolling now. definitely not good for the baby. the waving of her hand stopped abruptly and she looked up to the other again. and yet....

“just a small piece.” she caved, nodding her head as if to convince herself. she reached and took a piece that was bigger of the pieces available. “thank you.” she chimed, flashing the generous girl and offer and bowing her head lightly before settling the treat upon her tongue to chew upon. she couldn’t stop the pleased hum that left her even if she wanted it to. “my god--” why did food always taste the best when you were hungry? 

{ 🍯 } 시아 & 가현; connections.

being done with practice, gahyeon ran a hand through her sweaty hair and wandered over to her bag. the other royal girls were talking behind her about this and that – but gahyeon wasn’t really paying attention. because it wasn’t terribly often that gahyeon’s phone lit up with a notification while she was at practice. pretty much everyone she was close with was a trainee, after all, and had similarly full schedules. the only person she could think it would be was her boyfriend, but they’d talked earlier so it couldn’t possibly be him – and he wouldn’t message her through instagram. 

quickly unlocking her phone, gahyeon took a seat on the floor and looked over the message, furrowing her brows. it took a moment before it clicked on exactly who this girl was – that, and a little bit of scrolling through her instagram to get a look at her. the face looked familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it – until it clicked. she let out a little noise of recognition as she scrolled through, before quickly pulling her hair up then picking up her phone again to reply.

( ✉ ⇢ shiahchyoo )

…. ahh, thank you !! long time no see, huh ?? …. i don’t really teach anymore, but if you’d want to work together i’m sure we can work something out ~ 

what brought gahyeon to her mind was the simple fact that she was in the presence of her brother. junsun was at the front of the class reviewing with a few people who decided to use their break time to touch up on a few things. she had decided to sit back for the water break. these were the best moments of solace she got away from the hectic life her mother controlled. she often didn’t complain but she did love the time she got to spend doing something set aside completely for her and her alone.

she wasn’t sure that gahyeon would remember her but she was pleasantly surprised when the notification came through. she sipped her water through a straw poked through the top of her water bottle, her long hair tied into a ponytail tightly atop her head as she tapped upon the screen of her phone to get to the messages. she smiled around the straw and hummed to herself pleased. she was never the type to really express happiness about things like this often -- or express too much if she wasn’t on camera for that matter -- but this was something that made her happy. she liked to work with others that she admired. not that she’d ever say that.

[ 💬]

rkshyoo​:

{ 🍯 } 시아 & 청하; just this once!

chungha had been hearing about idol performances all week. and due to her own thick headedness (and being jammed packed day one of this thing) she missed and*roma’s and k.arma’s workshops. it was the only groups she really cared about because her friends were there. outside of that she didn’t really care about missing the rest of the groups. but a part of her wanted to do at least one workshop. it would be pretty cool even if she could probably dance circles around most in the room.

the closest workshop she had for when she was free on the last day (she thought) was eclipse. she wasn’t the biggest dan of them but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to hang around and learn the dance. this dance was supposed to be a little more difficult so chungha figured she’d have fun learning. though she doubts any of the groups will go start to finish with teaching the dance. they only had an hour. in an hour everyone can learn the chorus dance at most.

she spent the whole week with friends and other sphere trainees. this was the one time she was alone. she didn’t see anyone she recognised amongst the throng of people exiting the venue room. chungha wasn’t necessarily deterred. she didn’t mind doing things on her own. she even left her silks class ten minutes early to do this. but everyone seemed to be leaving and chungha wasn’t sure why.

just as she was turning to go ask someone what time eclipse was arriving, a girl had made her way over to her to make conversation. being the person she is, chungha wasn’t going to brush her off. “uh, yeah, actually, i am,” she responds with a nod. she gestures to everyone around them. “well, i was going to ask what was up since it seems everyone is filing out.”

the girl was certainly laying it on thick. chungha furrows her brows. she wasn’t used to people just coming out of the blue to try and stick around her. chungha didn’t bite. “uh, thanks, i guess. your observation skills are pretty great.” a lucky guess. but she wasn’t wrong. “i do dance, a lot. my name is chungha. and yours?”

she knew she had a tendency to lay it on thick and she knew that it came off as completely phony but there was a part of her that just genuinely didn’t care. it was an image that had been crafted for her and when her heart wasn’t in it to try to convince someone, she knew very well that she wasn’t trying to live up to those expectations and thus it made her genuinely not care. her questions were genuine. it would be nice to dance with someone that she seemed like she would remotely be able to tolerate during the workshop and she did seem to be a dancer. those who danced for a long time had a certain muscle build about them that really stood out. either that or she had a really good personal trainer.

i have to do all of the open events for shiah but there are some that are in need of partners! i’ll list the ones down below that she needs to work on and link their details and if you’d be interested in helping me out, i’d really appreciate it!

COLLABORATION EVENT ( +3 SINGING OR RAPPING / +2 CHARISMA )

MAKEOVER ( +3 CREATIVITY )

PLAYLIST ( +3 CREATIVITY )

RELATIONSHIP TALK ( +3 CHARISMA OR +3 CREATIVITY FOR EACH )

DANCE-OFF ( +3 DANCING )

she never necessarily looked into too many idol groups but of the ones that she did do her research on there were groups that existed like eclipse that had an image that she absolutely loved. intense, feminine, strong, impactful and eyecatching. they had concepts that were pretty and bubbly but of their songs “chase me” was definitely on that she’d always cherish. even if they didn’t teach it, of all the idol group music that she had listened to up until now this was the kind of idol music that she preferred. but she was a model. she was used to not getting what she preferred but she had a choice now.

to attend the workshop of eclipse or to continue on the schedule created for her.

she chose the workshop.

it was hard to meet the girls with all the other fans around and no matter who she was, they were the idols first and foremost and people were there to see them, herself included. seeing the rush of the crowd and the group standing up on the pedestal, shiah took a moment from her picture taking while catching her breath from the dance to look at the coordination amongst the girls and the persona life they lived. they lived up to perfection standards as well. sure, they did things that models didn’t do and models did things that they didn’t do but both jobs were severely centered around the image and image was everything. shiah understood this down to her bones.

this whole idol thing...

her eyes cast over the girls around her and the guys who had come to learn navillera with pursed lips in thought. there were so many. so many who would love them unconditionally and defend them to their last breath. so many who would turn on them at the drop of a hat if the wrong words got out. such a delicate yet frugal career path these girls walked. all idols walked. shiah looked up to the group again and crossed her arms over her chest with a deep sigh.

....so why was it starting to look so tempting?

shiah was almost positive she got this class likely due to her mother not fully understanding what the class entailed. there was no way that jang heeya was going to willingly give her daughter anything that encouraged her towards hip-hop. it was likely she saw contemporary in the title, was reminded of the contemporary classes shiah had taken with ballet and checked the box on the schedule. this was enough to make shiah laugh as she stood the class. there were blended elements of jazz, ballet and contemporary but the hip-hop essence of the song and movements could not be excluded either and they wouldn’t be.

the only truly enjoyable time shiah had during this entire weekend was when she was in dance class and now was not any different. especially when it came to hip-hop. she knew full well what she was doing and with contemporary being a discipline she had trained in too, well, shiah was in absolute heaven. the yoga first and now this? maybe her mother had a conscience or maybe it was the baby hormones making her sympathetic. either way, shiah rolled up her sleeves and positioned herself in direct view of the choreographer at the front of the room. she was here to learn all that she could and when it was her forte she excelled.

the mirror to her was just another camera and she was a perfectionist. the camera deserved the perfect shot and every tiny detail the choreographer ( her photographer ) pinpointed, her body mimicked. she was a sponge meant to absorb and return. her mother would call her a doll.

always ready and willing to be molded.

once upon a time yoga had really caught her interest before she was drawn into pilates. there was something so soothing about the meditation that could be achieved while doing yoga and the community of peace that came with the classes that gave shiah comfort. the softly depressed yoga mat beneath her palms as she stretched her limbs long and wide, balancing herself on muscles that would not be worked as she extended them down her back and from the tips of her toes out through the tips of her fingers. she could almost feel the breath escape her as the labored and slow exertion built up lactic acid within her muscles and raised her heartbeat and bodily temperature. what looked easy and pretty on the outside was not always that easy and pretty on the inside. this she knew for a fact.

her hair was tied tightly into a ponytail atop her head but she paused during their water break to fix it the rest of the way up into a bun, sitting back upon her knees and panting gently. she reached fr her water bottle and took a long drink, dabbing at her sweat with the towel curled around the back of her neck. after this weekend of trying to process this idol pressure from her mother, this was a cleanse her body needed to expel the stress choking up within her. maybe her mother saw the way that it was starting to get to her. having to make such a career adjustment when she had never wanted that for herself... to switch paths just when she was doing what she enjoyed. maybe her mother was taking pity on her and gave her a class she knew shiah would appreciate...

or not.

more than likely this was simply just a requirement to keep her body nimble and lean as usual. she closed the top on her water bottle and recentered herself, her eyes looking back to the instructor.

back to it.

she could see her mothers handwriting all over this class list. every single one reeked of the desire to mold her little model into a little idol.

refreshing techniques to cleanse and tend to her throat and vocal cords to undoubtedly prepare her for future singing lessons. now what was this? skincare and makeup? her nutritionist and dermatologist most certainly would appreciate this one. caring for her skin was top priority. 

it’s the way to stay young and relevant.

her mother would always say something along those lines. it was the reason why she paid so much money for treatment for shiah. she could see her nutritionist and her mother seated together in her minds eye picking apart each class and creating a new regime for her to follow. the camera at a photoshoot was more forgiving than a broadcasting camera. there was no live photoshop and the editors would not finetune and facetune her features to make them appealing on television. modeling already required an intensive skin care routine to make a flawless palette for the makeup artists to draw upon and, just like in modeling, being an idol had no room for flaw or error. this class was not a necessity. it was an insidious reminder.

not a hair out of place. not a blemish on your face.

nothing but perfection. the message rang loud and clear, the notes of the instructor recorded in her mind as a reminder for her to relay back in the phone call that was waiting to be made once she left the classroom. her life was not just going to consist of her modeling life now but little by little ( if her mother maintained patience ) shiah knew she would see the introduction of the life of an idol pushed into her schedule. looking down at the foaming cleanser that sat before her, she scowled.

who even wanted to be an idol anyways? so stupid.

one hundred percent a class enforced by her nutritionist. it had his name written all over it. this was one thing that people never really understood about modeling and when she had been doing it as long as she had been, it becomes a requirement. modeling had less to do with being pretty and more about being interesting. there were different aspects of bodily management that had to be undertaken in order to appeal to designers and their clothing, yes. prettily posed hands that were flexible, dextrous and neat for hand modeling accessories. a body that would elongate, stretch and bend into poses that more often than not extremely uncomfortable but your features were never to show that. 

you modeled from your head to your toe. nothing was ever relaxed for a single moment.

and that was just how it was. you had to catch the eyes of people flipping through magazines, walking past billboards, scrolling through websites. being pretty was not a selling point. being interesting to look at though? it meant you had to be creative and strong. you had to have presence. it meant you had to take care of your body constantly without fail and prioritize the job that you were working on and the jobs you would book above all else. 

the recipes that were taught in this class were healthy ones she was mostly familiar with as they had been engrained in her mind for years now but modeling was not about vocal cords. she knew what was good for the body but to try to be a singer... this was new territory. so she had to learn from scratch and report back to her nutritionist. some of the people here learned as much as they could for their voices because they were already singers. shiah could hear them talking amongst themselves giddy and excited. it made her roll her eyes.

as far as she was concerned, this was an extension of work.

this is all your brother. are you trying to follow in his footsteps? do you want to make me sad?

she had lost count of how many times these words left her mothers lips over the years. the more the power dynamic began to shift from the pretty, delicate doll her mother pushed her to be into the curt, ice princess she was developing into, the more her mother bore down upon her. shiah was well aware her mother was surviving off of her and her alone. the money she brought in from brand endorsements, her pay from her contract with esteem, sponsorships... that money came into a bank account with shiah’s name on it but it was getting harder to reign in her daughter where she had already lost control of her brother.

shiah was well aware of the power she held nowadays but she was not heartless. the baby bump her mother waddled around with was a constant reminder there was another baby that would be molded and so she flocked towards her brother who lived freely more and more. his hip-hop dance studio stood proudly on two feet and when the ballerina tired of ballet ( and contemporary which was supposed to be ~diverse~ for her according to her mother ) shiah latched onto the heavy hip-hop beats at the young age of eleven and never let go. she clung to it for dear life and quite literally threw her ballet shoes out of the window to commit herself to it to her mothers dismay. what her mother allowed when she was younger and her sole focus back then turned into her lifelong obsession. shiah suspects to this day that that was why she wanted another baby. third time was the charm.

freestyle was nothing to her. she’d been doing it so long and intensively she’d probably bleed a bass drop if she got hurt. her body reacted naturally to the music, the ballerina breaking free of chains to get dirty and grimy upon the concrete in boots. her body knew nothing but dance and even with her mother forcing the star life of an idol on her, shiah knew she would be a face and a dancer never a singer or a rapper. so she danced and she was captivating. the confidence and attitude she’d fostered working not only as a model but a successful model and the entitlement she felt where she sat on the throne in her mind, she lived to be seen and she lived to put on a show whether it was the photographer or the instructor of this class. she didn’t have to overthink it.

she just was.

shiah had four disciplines that she had the most confidence in and nothing could rattle her resolve when it came to her performance. dance was just as large a part of her life that modeling was and growing up learning both hand in hand allowed for her to have diversity when she was on the job. from the start, ballet was the first discipline her mother had encouraged her into and as such it was the one she had the most history with. it was her first lessons but even still it was not her first love.

she could hear her instructors voice in her ear as she stood with the others, her hand placed securely on the bar as she stood. back straight. heels together. arms loose. head up. she’d even tied her hair up into the bun from old days and she plied with grace, the flexibility unforgettable as her spine extended and the muscles in her knees stretched until she released the tension, the entire motion fluid and flowing through her body to be brought back to her center core. her features showed no strain even in the slightest because there was none.

her mother had called her her little doll when she was younger. with her tutu, ballet shoes and leotard, shiah was sure she did look like one but she knew the double meaning of the word. obedient, always listening, ready and willing to be shaped and molded however the instructors her mother paid saw fit less her ball joints snap under the pressure of resistance. so, yeah, shiah agreed to be a doll. beautiful, dolled up, on display. it was better than being war-torn and discarded - a toy people grew tired of. perfection was all she strived for. and so she plied again at the instructors command.

down... and up... and down... and up...