amorphous

hi! it's jane back with anotha one (i couldn't help myself with the oh my girl / ive / rv trio discog!!) but anyways, this is my new muse suh eunbin, lead dancer / actress of angelix! below the cut is the tldr, which i will try to be concise with this time. as always, like below and i'll message you to plot something fun! once again (ims and discrd open)

"we don't have to talk about it," she says suddenly. hyein stands at her kitchen sink—head down as she thumbs through a tattered recipe book. the concerned lilt of her voice is hard to ignore, but she tries to keep her tone light; casual. a gentle smile floats across her lips when she lifts her head and meets eunbin’s gaze. "but i think i know what you're going through, and shoving those feelings down won't do you any good."

the story's one that's beaten to a pulp: gone girl finds an escape in the guise of a kindred spirit.

but the romanticism fades at the seconds passing, her eyes bearing a heavier weight with the details of each light and each building becoming muddied. and through it all, the void of the romanticism slipping away into a portrait of a torn girl: stripped bare bones, stifled steps that brings her closer to hyein's apartment.

the false pretenses of security fall apart, everywhere. everything. all at once. but, she still foolishly braves the mask of ignorance, clinging onto a falsehood of not knowing the catalyst for it all (deep down, she saw the splintering. thought it'd heal on its own). reality's different, and when she's hinging on the last piece of safe ground with the cracks forming, she learns: all she craves is an outstretched arm, something, someone that will haul her back to safety.

under the layers of bliss inside studio talks and mutual commiseration revealed cho hyein. under the muffled sobs of tonight's late night desperation reveals suh eunbin, walking right through the doors: eyes tinted a somber red, and a cap meant to conceal whatever's left of her hollowed out eyes.

(hindsight would have her laughing at the tragedy of her failed herculean endeavor to safe face.)

her cap falls to the ground, and with one glance, the facade falls. something inside her empties out her lungs, echoes the lines of her heart into the silence filling the space between them. she presses her back further against the wall, "this won't ever heal on its own, will it?" the concession slips past her mouth quietly, thinned to sheer fragility.

but this is a no-war zone. a safe-space she relents what half-smile she can muster up.

서있는은빈:

🌧️[21:05]: one of my favorites is eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. 🌧️[21:05]: it makes you think a lot. 🌧️[21:06]: "please let me keep this memory just this one" 🌧️[21:06]: is there anything more poignant than that one line? 🌧️[21:07]: meet me in montauk. 🌧️[21:07]: ♡

주주주주퍼노바:

❤️ 💬

@ boiteenargent: a cold spring slowly passing, and i wonder what summer will be like.

서있는은빈:

🌧️[13:00]: remedy debuted around the same time as angelix. lots of respect to them. 🌧️[13:00]: unfortunately, no tiktok challenges for me. 🌧️[13:01]: there are more talented dancers, they'd do a better job~

주주주주퍼노바:

서있는은빈:

🌧️[19:02]: i'm sorry you and your friend are fighting... 🌧️[19:02]: maybe eat something where you don't have to worry.. or reach out to your friend.

주주주주퍼노바:

서있는은빈:

서있는은빈:

🌧️[22:00]: friendships as an adult are hard... i don't even think i know the answer to this. 🌧️[22:02]: it's hard when the enveloped dynamics you used to hold so close to your heart become victims to passage of time and distance. even sadder when the friendship becomes a placeholder for passed memories, and buried underneath a new identity as an adult. 🌧️[22:02]: i'm not sure i have any advice, but to say — take care of your heart. take care of theirs (even if it's from a distance.) 🌧️[22:03]: and if things get too heavy, then know it's okay to mourn the piece of you that you've lost. 🌧️[22:04]: 으악.... 밤 감성의 푸욱 빠졌네ㅠ 🌧️[22:04]: 🫶 goodnight babies 🫶

주주주주퍼노바:

seoho leans back in his chair just in case there's anyone catching this interaction on camera. "i still think so." the lavender isn't that far off in shade. "both can be true." he's not trying to start a fight, but seoho's always been a bit reactionary.

laughter paints itself in blues, clouded by the early years of heartbreak in silent sobs. the affair of dissociation, and she's primed herself to become a master over the years — refining, re-doing. avoiding. refreshing. and it's her greatest cinematic scene when she foots the laughter with the quirk of her chin, and a gaze she casts back over towards the crowd of people now nearing by.

because physically at meters apart, the dissonance is almost too painfully human to underpin.

years past, she used to be half-human — a walking shell teetering on the edge of ruination and self-doubt. and maybe, she's still an outline of her past when fragility's become engrained and each second chips away at the mask she's woven together.

"luckily, i know a thing or two about healing wounds." no bark, no bite. unintentional, the words slip under a murmur of her breath, disregarding the nebulous eyes in the vicinity. "give it time. avoid, and the rest you'll learn to forget." it feels criminal how she masks the underlyings of the read-between-the lines with precipitous apathy.

but she'll manage. he'll manage — just as they've always done.

so many memories mollify her. the worst of her thoughts are past her for the moment (half an hour of it the formerly dormant storm had raged on her long enough to get her to where she is now, capable of seeking any form of shelter). "eunbin..." she murmurs, her voice sticky soft like her cheeks from the tears and her heart from the ache. "remember when you and i would talk all night about boys?" she laughs, waterlogged and light, "why don't we do that anymore?" she expects soon eunbin will be through her front door, in front of her again... the first time they had really been alone without a camera crew or staff in front of them in what was at least a year.

late night wanderings, and she's a prisoner of her own mind and the ruthlessness of each comment that glares at her in-between each blink. a quick toss and one too many turns start to bleed into the hours one by one. (by now, she's just counting down from one hundred — second by second till the sun peeks past, telling her: it's time for a new day.)

but tonight there's a saving grace, a silver lining that has her pulse wayward: the light of her screen and the back-to-back buzzes of her phone.

what she doesn't expect is the ticking breaths hinging on the fine line of a category-five hurricane. time wages war, priming her for the heady weight snowballing in the back of her throat. mind over matter, and like a knee-jerk reaction, she's gone girl before her voice has the chance to reply: "yerin, just stay put — i'll be there soon."

-

one crack of the door, and it's the weeks of silence that inflict destruction. one look and the thunderous distance, and there's a thought that flashes with the realization: they're back to the silhouettes of their wasted youth.

she listens to yerin's cries, and the ripple effect of her heart fragmenting piece by piece echoes. courage begins by wrapping two arms around the keepsake of her childhood — she pulls her into a hug. "what's wrong, i'm here. talk to me — what happened tonight?" the cadence in her voice lends itself to a murmur, and she remembers: this is what it feels like to be helpless in secondhand aches.

"hey, you know what we should do?" in her pocket, natsumi's phone vibrates. she ignores it. "i think we should go on a holiday. you, me, maybe we can ask the other girls if they want to come along. at least for a week, no cameras." after the comeback maybe there'll be time for something like that, when the festival season is over and they hit the autumn lull. "i've been dying for a change of scenery."

the thing about comfort is that, it's easy to fall back into its graces.

and that's what she's doing when her footsteps start fallign one by one towards the souvenir shop, arms still locked and hearts still synonymous with the flowers they pass by.

"i wouldn't want to be sad, but do promise me that you'll get a kuropi headband, so i won't be walking around with one alone" something about the smile she elicits is mischievous, but there's no bark or bite to the words that fall with laughter. instead, it garners something weightless akin to a child, exploring the imaginative borders of everland.

the proposition catches her off guard, yet becomes one that curbs her curiosity that she lends a quick glance back over towards her member. "an escape?" is how she reads it as if management would let her slip away from the suffocating grasp of schedules and belabored woes. wishful thinking, eunbin thinks. yet, she still entertains the idea, fostering her curiosity with a probe of words and a glint full of mischief.

PLAYLIST / PLOT INSPO: a series of songs and their intrinsic ties to current dynamics / wanted future connections. — (obviously, a read between the lines, purposefully vague. and if a song really resonates with you, feel free to msg to discuss in dms!)

"it's, uh. it's good to see you." so fucking awkward. seoho wants to bang his head against the table and hopes daon will show up a little sooner. "that colour looks good on you." he's half expecting that she'll just ignore him, but at least he'll have tried.

there's a word the universe presents to her time and time again: schadenfreude. the funny thing about it is that it comes at you like a twist of fate, intrinsically yanked into sublimation by a red string. and the universe certainly does no favors when it wants to weaponize and aim its unbridled laughter at a target of one. (she's no longer laughing. universe: 1, eunbin: 0).

because now she's there, caught like a deer in headlights. and he's sitting still, a smile that's lost its meaning in translation — a classic tale of boy meets girl. different people, years later.

she does no favors when the volatile memories of wasted youth come as a reckoning. internal inertia, she likes to call it — the nightmarish twist in the pit of her stomach and mind drawing a blank. but like clockwork and old customs slotting back into play, he shifts the gravity of silence wayward, casting the reverberation of hesitation they're balancing on.

"i can't recall the last time we crossed paths." the words find themself hollow — barren by the void of any warmth. her eyes fall automatically towards the edge of her dress, fingers toiling slowly along its hem, as if she's finding a distraction no, escape from this predicament.