make love!

“bro, it’s like coming back at the same time as reign or something. no matter how good or popular your song, you’re not getting shit. it’s kinda the name of the game these days,” xifeng answered. “honestly, if i had the power to not do schedules, i would. variety is fun. and i like the concept of live stages. but i also like sleeping and eating.”

“honestly, my group did come back around the same time as reign, back in the day - i think. it still wasn’t has bad as last month,” she chuckled. “like, it doesn’t matter that much to me, given i don’t promote, but i thought the other big companies cross-checked comeback dates behind the scenes to try and give their artists a chance?” jenny sympathized with the younger girl. it was a privilege that she was allowed to not promote, honestly - after all, it wasn’t like siren could exactly say no - and while group promotions used to be fun, younger artists schedules were super grueling. “does liberty subscribe to the ‘sleep when you’re old’ concept, then?”

“i should have known what i was getting into. i signed at liberty, after all– they have a set style, across their acts,” aeri sighed. to be fair, liberty was the first offer she got, and she had been fairly certain it’d be the only offer she’d get, so she hadn’t had a choice. “though, it’s not as though anyone took the dancing in deviant seriously, so i can’t blame them. people didn’t take deviant seriously as a group.”

jenny nodded. “that they really do.” all companies had a focus, a style, to be fair, but how flexible they were within that was highly dependent on both company and artist. “they should’ve done! the fact that you guys made fun, unusual concepts shouldn’t somehow translate to that you aren’t all super talented. but you all seem to be doing well still, at least.”

“i’ve heard music show schedules are nuts. honestly, if i were an idol, i’d probably be fine with never getting a win if i at least got to nap,” hyeja admitted. of course, she had no real idea. it was probably one more reason among many that being an idol just wasn’t for her.

“honestly, they’re terrible - and back when my group was promoting a lot, there weren’t nearly as many shows are there are now, either. it feels like every few months they invent a new thing to make it more hectic,” jenny said, shaking her head. “i wish i could say i napped in the time not doing it freed up, but honestly i was just busy with other stuff.” she sighed - of course, she genuinely loved being busy, to a point, but sometimes a nice rest really would hit the spot.

“i won’t pretend to know what those schedules were like, but for what it’s worth, i have yet to hear anyone have anything bad to say about your song,” himari offered. “i think it’s been positively received. it’s like when there’s a good match on the undercard– it may get overshadowed by the main event, but that doesn’t make it any less good.”

“you’re sweet,” jenny replied with a warm smile, before giving a little chuckle. “i also won’t pretend to know what some of that refers to, i’m so sorry - but i understand what you mean. i’m not worried about getting overshadowed, necessarily. and i know i would’ve been miserable had i tried to do shows this time around, too. the industry just has a way of always making you feel like you aren’t doing enough even when you’re content, you know?”

“liberty just really likes to have an image for each of their artists and are super weird about sticking to it. and for some groups, that’s a good thing. i’d say for burnout it works super well, and journey seems to be having success there too. not to say i’m not seeing success i just….wish choreography fit into the image they’ve decided for me,” aeri sighed

“companies really do have a thing about telling us ‘here is your designated image and niche, you will now be that regardless of any personal wishes or developments until you die’, huh?” jenny shook her head. of course, it was impossible to avoid that entirely, and even the groups at siren had assigned roles, but there was no way they’d be so restricted if they wanted to change. “kinda weird that they chose this for you when you were literally the main dancer in deviant, even if your musical sound really works.”

“like dance performances in general, or for my songs? because i’m not creative enough to come up with interesting and not-sucky choreography for something like vanishing paycheck,” aeri admitted with a laugh. “i’ve been thinking of doing that, though. or trying to. i’d have to get an account approved through liberty first. and i wish i could say they’d let me, but i genuinely have no clue if they would.”

“either! i’m sure your fans would love to see you dance regardless, so maybe you could do covers or collaborate with choreographers?” the older woman suggested. “they really wouldn’t let you?” she asked, frowning sympathetically. “well, that’s bullshit, if they wouldn’t. but i get it.” before siren, what jenny and the rest of LUSS had been allowed to do independently had been limited at best - she did not miss it at all. “companies can be really weird in how they manage their artists.”