— woah! who’s this mess!

hello hello hello everyone! i’m mia (19, she/her, est) and this is sihyun, phoenix’s lead vocalist and self-titled healing-dol. he’d really like to convince you that he has his shit together but i’ll very swiftly be dismantling that illusion for you. to phoenix fans, sihyun is a charming, genuine idol who brings comfort to those around him. to anyone with insight into his full personality, sihyun is a desperate and self-sacrificing person who would really rather die than show any clear signs of his emotional wellbeing (or lack of it) to the public. while the kind and considerate parts of his idol persona aren’t falsehoods, he is nowhere near as tranquil or well-put-together as he makes his fans believe. now that he’s 3 years into his career, he’s about 2 steps from intense burnout and has garnered quite a dissatisfaction for his place in the industry. he has yet to admit either of these things to himself, and who knows when he ever will! 

anyway, with that all-over-the-place summary, i’ll be placing more details under the cut!   

profile | biography | career page | plots (under construction, but feel free to look anyway) 

Ask Meme → ( accepting! )

5. Who is your inspiration?

Ask Meme → ( accepting! )

16. If you could choose your next comeback, what concept would it be?

also asked by: @seojunws

hello everyone! as the above implies, i will be taking a short hiatus until the 18th! i won’t be totally gone, but i wanted to take some time to re-center myself and come back in a week refreshed and fully ready to write! (in other words, i have belatedly realized that i definitely should have taken a hiatus during finals week and am instead using this time to take a mental break haha) i’ll still be reachable through ims and discord (lmk if you want my id!) but otherwise yeah i’ll be on hiatus. on the 18th, i will be fully ready to hop back into ims with ideas that don’t take me 5 days to come up with, which i think will be better for all of us lol ^^

 anyways, i’ll see you all in a week!!

it wasn’t something that happened often, just often enough. that being said, most of the time when she ran over, no one else was coming into the dance studio so she didn’t need to pay that much attention. today hadn’t been one of those days. yeonmi was in some what of a trance, focused on perfecting the set she had prepared. 

she had realized someone was in the room until it came time for a turn. which also startled her and promptly caused yeon-mi to hit the ground with a loud sound. “sorry.” she mumbled as she pulled herself up up, rolling her shoulders back as she headed over to the speakers. “i didn’t realize i went over my time. one second and i’ll have everything cleaned up.” would she address her fall? not in this life time. 

@sihyunws​

The sound of the fall jolted Sihyun out of his slight daze. At this point, he had gotten pretty used to having to wait a little extra for people to clear out of the practice rooms if they were heavily booked. Frankly, he was also the kind of person to completely forget about having to leave at a specific time once he immersed himself in his routine, so he couldn’t blame anyone else for making him wait. For the most part, he defaulted to idling in the doorway until the person noticed in order to let them properly finish whatever they were working on. Cases like this, however, make him think that sometimes it would be better to make his presence known, if only to not startle his jumpier labelmates so much. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, take as much time as you need.” He pursed his lips into a small, polite smile before walking a bit further into the room. He continues talking as he goes to set his own bag down and begin setting up himself, “Sorry for surprising you, by the way. I can erase the memory, if it bothers you.” Perhaps bringing it up at all was embarrassing enough, but completely saying nothing about it would only create a very awkward silence. That, and seeing people get hurt—potentially, anyways—always made him feel slightly guilty, so he couldn’t just not do anything. 

location — ys practice rooms

with — @seoyulws

Sihyun checked the time on his phone as he leaned against the wall of the practice room, slowly dropping to the floor to sit. 3:12 AM. His face contorted into a cringe at the realization. How many of the other trainees would be asleep by now? While he anticipated his debut for many reasons, his most trivial motivation was the simple fact that he would have fewer people to maneuver around and try not to wake up when he returned to the dorms later than everyone else. It was this annoyance that drove him to pack up shop a little earlier than usual, despite the fact that the closeness of this month’s evaluation was causing the tirelessly ambitious part of his brain to itch for him to perfect another sequence before the night was over. Nevertheless, he pushed himself back onto his feet—ignoring the persistent ache of his legs—just as quickly as he had sat down, moving to collect his things and call it quits. He made a mental note of what exactly he had to revisit the next day and left the room before he could convince himself that one more round wouldn’t be so bad, clicking the lights off on his way out.  

It wasn’t uncommon for him to be one of the last ones out of the building at night, if he wasn’t the last completely. Due to this, he had begun to make it something of a habit to check all of the practice rooms he passed on his way out that had the lights on, leaving the occupied ones alone and going out of his way to shut down everything that had been left running in the empty ones. It didn’t make a lot of sense—caring about YS’ light bill was a ridiculous sentiment in and of itself—but the ritual helped him remove himself from the thoughts that tried to pull him back to the practice room for another hour. By the time he was finished, he had typically cooled down enough for the tiredness to seep in. It worked like a well-oiled machine these days, especially when he was as busy as he had been this week, so it didn’t take very long for him to begin to fight against yawns as he made his way from door to door.

( ... )

“but… you know, sihyun… i don’t know what you think is going on, but i’m not skipping practice. i really hate that your first instinct upon seeing me is to assume that i’m not using my time well.” this part is new, at least — usually, he admits that he’s not where he’s supposed to be. this time, he feels like he has something to prove. something that isn’t true. “we’ve been doing so well that practice ended early today. i’m as surprised as anyone else, i guess. if it were up to me, we would’ve practiced for longer… but what am i supposed to do? argue when i’m told that i can go home? no, right?”

Sihyun has never subscribed to deterministic thinking. In fact, he fell at the exact opposite side of that spectrum. For better or for worse, he believed that he could fix just about anything with enough effort and elbow grease. Instant gratification was something to perpetually hold at bay, and any discomfort was to be weathered for the results that would follow it. Sure, even Sihyun could admit that it wasn’t the most pleasant way to live life. He misses out on pursuing a few of his older hobbies more often than he’d like and he could count the amount of times he had chosen going out with friends over practice on two hands, barely. So no, it wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it got him where he wanted. If he was a bit bolder, or perhaps more patient, he’d try to figure out where exactly Hyeon wanted to be, but the trainee burned through his fuse far too quickly for that possibility to even come to his mind. 

So, they dance around their points instead of being outright. Sihyun crosses his arms in front of his chest. He shouldn’t have bothered getting his hopes up, all it did was make him more aggravated. “No matter how talented you are, there’s always room for improvement, you know. It might just be ‘waving canes around’ now, but making a habit of settling for good enough isn’t going to work forever." The words come out more exasperated and defensive than he wants them to. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath to center himself. It was embarrassing, honestly, the fact that he allowed himself to be so riled up so quickly. The rational part of his brain admits that the reaction comes from the fact that he knows Hyeon is good—from what he had seen while waiting for other trainees outside of their practices, at least—and that paired with how little he seemed to care bothered him beyond belief. The ruling 95% of his mind, however, prefers to take it as simply a part of his bad mood, so that’s what he decides to believe. 

[PHOENIX] 🔴 Starting Live: Sihyun Time!!

Word Count: 768

sihyun’s vibe playlist - 30 songs, 2 moods

with: @sihyunws.

a year and some change into his contract with yuseong entertainment, hyeon should’ve found some dedication by now. but instead, he just gets lazier, lazier, always lazier — if there wasn’t enough proof already, then the final piece of evidence lies in the fact that he’s yet again weaseled his way out of practice when it isn’t even particularly difficult lately. the emphasis today is on memorizing the choreographies for crescent’s upcoming stages, neither of which are advanced in any way. in truth, it’s more like a rest day than anything else, but even that hadn’t been enough to keep hyeon on task.

it’s not like he’s always slacking off, anyway. maybe once a week, he’ll bombard his fellow trainees with tireless complaints and excuses about why he has to leave early. and when that fails to work, he’ll wait until their supply of water bottles dwindles down and then he’ll be the first to offer to go get more. that’s the method that he’d used today. as soon as he’s alone in the hallway, he thinks to himself about how naïve everybody in this company must be to still send him to get water when it’s guaranteed that he’ll be gone for at least an hour. he even utters a mocking laugh under his breath, but the universe must be sending reminders to keep himself in check because the first person that he sees is hwang sihyun. from hyeon’s perspective, he has to be the most uptight person in the entire company. for the briefest of moments, he considers turning around and retreating into the safe zone (re: the practice room he’d just come from), but decides that there’s no point. if he’s already spotted sihyun, then he must’ve already been spotted, too.

“sihyun! hey!” he exclaims as soon as he’s made his decision, one hand held up in a motionless wave. it’s too casual of a greeting for the situation: it seems to suggest that they’re two friends running into each other and not a trainee who’s escaped during practice hours and the senior who always seems to catch him in the act. to make matters worse, he approaches sihyun and slows to a stop in front of him, grinning. “what are you doing here? studio time, maybe? is your group cooking something up? i saw the news about your lightstick. sooo sick, dude.”

Phoenix were somewhere near week and a half out from the end of their “Miroh” promotions, and it was at this point that Sihyun’s fatigue had subsided enough for his body to itch for practice again. He had caught up on enough sleep, eaten enough junk food, replayed the feeling of winning in his mind enough times for the reality of it to finally sink in. Sihyun, at this point, knew that there was only so long that the euphoria could sit before he reminded himself what he was here for. So, he booked his own practice room for the first time in a while and prepared to dive headfirst back into his routine. 

A return to the practice room, however, meant dealing with all of the stressors surrounding it. Usually, these were manageable things: the last person in the room forgetting to clean up after themselves, the room’s speakers being too finnicky and disconnecting from his phone too often, or even forgetting to bring money for the vending machine. Every once in a while, however, the annoyance came in the uncontrollable form of a person—and, speak of the devil, he crossed paths with Hyeon of all trainees on his way to the room. Luck was odd in many ways, but the amount of times that Sihyun had coincidentally caught Hyeon blowing off his own practice made him feel as though that force of nature wanted him to be particularly frustrated at all times. Hard work, in Sihyun’s book at least, was the basic foundation needed to be an idol. What was Hyeon doing here when it seemed like he spent more time trying to get out of practice than actually doing it? Perhaps it was none of his business at all, but he seemed to be unable to ignore Hyeon repeatedly hitting that exposed nerve of his, which led to standoffs such as these: mutual annoyance overlaid by false positivity. 

She shook her head. Maybe it was the excited little her that was obsessive about idols deep down inside of her, but she never thought Phoenix as bad. Especially not from the same group as Ladybug. “You guys were extremely good. My Pace is a very fast song. I can’t imagine doing that hard and quick of a choreography live and singing or rapping at the same time,” she blurted out. “I know the backtracks are there for a reason, but good first impression and all.”

Why was she explaining this to Sihyun? He was her senior and been in the game longer than her while under one of the larger labels. Making a fool of herself. Then again, she wasn’t the one for this kind of stuff. Public relations and variety were her weakest. And, boy, was Sihyun getting to see her weaknesses shine through, she thought to herself. Still, Eunbyul did her best to push on a smile and continue to be rather friendly. As friendly as she can be with the manager over her shoulder and doing a tour of the older idols to help get Dandelion’s name out there.

“I can’t give away too much information,” she said, looking over her shoulder towards management. “The most I can say is soon. To be honest with you, I’m a bit in the dark on what the actual times are. The leader probably knows more. Not that you should scout her out or anything since she likely can’t say much at all.” Eunbyul stopped herself. She was speaking way too much and too quickly. Her throat felt dry from the stage performance. The bright lights and the adrenaline dehydrated her. How much and how fast she was speaking didn’t help.

Eunbyul coughed once or twice to try and clear the itchiness from her throat before making an apologetic bow. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I think I’m just nervous.” She pulled herself back up. The heat on her face was growing. By now, Eunbyul was sure that her face must have been a bright pink. Her pale complexion never gave her room to hide embarrassment.

Sihyun’s hand sheepishly raised itself towards his neck, a habit of shyness that he still had yet to kick. It was his turn to be a little embarrassed, he supposed, running his sentences back in his mind. Had he fished for a compliment without realizing it? Of course, he wasn’t so modest as to hate the comment, but turning the encouragement—even if only for a moment—back around onto him did slightly catch him off guard. He tried his best, however, to internalize his surprise. There was no point in further troubling her with his own bout of brief awkwardness after all. 

“I knew asking for specifics was pushing my luck a little. Either way, I’ll look forward to seeing it whenever it does happen.” He smiled reassuringly, both at Blue as well as their respective managers, who he could only assume were incredibly relieved that he had let the topic go easily. Perhaps his brain was too used to the process of his own debut. At the time, it seemed like Yuseong telegraphed any and every detail to the public for the months leading up to it. He shouldn’t have expected that other companies would conduct themselves in the same way. (Hell, Yuseong didn’t even act that way for their other projects). 

It was weird being referred to as a rookie and hear people ask her her name, only to have to mentally remind herself to respond with Blue. Her heart had been pounding all day, only subsiding when she was out on stage. It was scary. No others in her group with her, but alone. It at least gave her a little bit of practice and allowed her to know what to expect when it came time around for Dandelion to debut as a whole. She still felt so ridiculous doing PR tours to meet the other idols.

Eunbyul looked back at her manager, making sure everything she was going was to code and what her company would want of her. “Good evening,” she said as she bowed to a near perfect right angle. “I hope I’m not bothering you.” She did her best to not think about how red her face must have been. Interacting with others wasn’t what she was geared up for. That was for the leader or the face of the group, not the socially awkward dancer (and now rapper).

She smiled a little. The small clap and returned the bow to her. He seemed to be nice at the very least. “I’m Blue, a member of Dandelion, but you just saw my solo pre-debut track,” she pushed out, worrying that her voice sounded too rehearsed and stilted. Eunbyul offered her hand to the Phoenix member for a small shake. “Soon, to be rapper and dancer for the group. So, be on the look out for us.”

Ah, Dandelion. A few familiar faces flash in his head at the mention of the name, and he makes a mental note to kick himself later for—once again—not keeping up with the group in the way that even a decent acquaintance would. However, it was no use to reveal this blunder to Blue, who wouldn’t know what the hell he was talking about, so he kept his face set in the same static smile he had been wearing before, save for the instinctual quirk of his eyebrows as he recognized the name. 

The other Phoenix members had begun to tune out for the most part after the initial greeting, and Sihyun supposed that he could potentially go back to sleep if he did the bare minimum here, but he reached out and shook Blue’s hand anyway. Maybe he could just cut an hour off his solo practice and make up the time then. (He would not, in fact, even pause for a second to consider this idea later, but Sihyun was too experienced in self-placation to not at least think of it). “I’m Sihyun, it’s nice to meet you,” he started, hoping to hop past the awkward niceties as quickly as possible. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that Blue was nervous, so he couldn’t imagine that going through the most stilted parts of an introduction was helping at all.