#cometprose

                   《 ※ 》     THOSE WORDS SPOKE volumes to him. Being absolutely restricted to doing things how other people wanted and now how he wanted — to not be given free reign of his creativity and just allow the creative juices to flow out from his fingertips. But he supposed that’s why he never gave up dance. It was his outlet to be as innovative as he wanted to be, without having anyone to tell him ‘no,’ or ‘it didn’t fit the concept.’ Sangcheol could relate, so much. Granted, their career paths weren’t the same. Sidhe was an idol and he was just some employee at a graphic design studio. The hardships that the younger male must have faced were most likely more detrimental physically, mentally and emotionally than the ones that Cheol had to encounter. But this was the least he could do —  be there. ❝ I can understand that it’s hard now and it’ll be hard for awhile …  ❞ What was he even trying to say? There’s a hint of frustration in his expression as brows knit and lips thin.  ❝ Just know that, I’ll be here to support you the entire way through. ❞ A hand reaches out to place a gentle pat on the other male’s shoulders once. Twice. Followed by a light squeeze of his shoulders. It was admirable, really. That Sidhe had made it this far. To go the distance when a large amount of people would have just given up all together; packed their bags and go home. Features soften and Sangcheol tilts his head slightly to one side. ❝ What sort of songs would you want to write, though? ❞ 

—— sidhe smiles in a very small, soft way. he’s not one to show emotion, really, (toxic masculinity, you know the drill) but it does make him happy to hear that the younger girl is at ease with their set-up; a sort of impromptu choreo session, with sidhe watching june perform what had been worked on for her upcoming unit debut so he can offer any advice on execution. the dance studio is sweaty and it’s almost a hazard of the industry to be wary of accepting help with anything, so he wouldn’t blame her if there was any discomfort present. after all, his pride would make seeking out help almost as difficult as quitting altogether. (maybe that’s that toxic masculinity talking, though.) “i don’t think you have anything to worry about.” he shrugs, nodding. “i mean, i don’t know much about how to dance like a sexy woman, anyway, but from a technical viewpoint, you’re golden. you’ve been given a good choreography, too. i wonder if siwoo-hyung will cover it with me when the song drops.”

...

how did she pull him into the situation? she wasn’t sure. maybe it was just a coincidence that the day they chose to hang out was the same day she was spotted from the loan sharks that have been trying to get money from her father. she started to run, hoping it would be fast enough to ditch them. she could have pretended not to know sidhe, but what was the risk of them catching him instead? for what? just being acquainted with her? she shakes her head, pressing a finger to her lips as she continued to run. she was a few inches behind, but not so much. sorry. she says it with her eyes when they lock before focusing on the surroundings in front of them. she’s in the front now, tugging at his wrist and taking a sharp turn into an alley where she finds a small crack in the wall. she pulls them in, breathing heavily.

 I HOPE THE COMETS WILL GUIDE YOU TO HAPPINESS.

                             // DUCKIE PLAYLIST @cometprose

﹙  SEND A SYMBOL FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION.  //  ACCEPTING. ﹚          —— @cometprose

回 — PATCHING A WOUND.

                        《※》     SHARPLY, SANGCHEOL INHALES, the quick intake of breath resonating similarly to a hiss. His features twist in clear agony while dark irises are veiled tightly by lids, shrouding him in darkness for a brief moment, before they flicker open again, light blinding him temporarily. Deep pools of brown shift towards where the source of the pain is coming from. Floor burns weren’t the worst, but they stung for lengthy periods of time. And if not treated properly could leave relatively nasty scars. This one was big. His attempt to do a knee slide when clearly his jeans were already tattered at torn at that specific section ended up with the top layer of skin being burned right off. Specs of blood trickled forth, leaving tiny crimson dots on his wounded knee. The skin, tender and sensitive as the younger male applies ointment to it, ridding the fresh tear in his top layer of flesh of any bacteria. But fuck did it sting. Sangcheol winces and another hiss bubbles from his throat. Muscle spasms and his leg nearly kicks, but he manages to take control of it again. Taking in a deep breath, the raven head attempts to calm himself down. 

❝ Fuck !  ❞ He finally exclaims after holding it back. Soon, the wound is patched up with a large bandage they managed to find in the first-aid kit. A small wave of relief washes over him and he presses his back against the mirrors behind him. ❝ Thanks, dongsaeng. ❞ Despite the weak smile tugging at the corners of pink tiers, a hand extends out to mess with those soft locks on top of the other male’s head. Even though he wants to continue with their little dance session, all the energy that coursed through his veins ( literally ) five-six minutes ago, had been completely depleted. Sucked dry. Like the wound was the gateway to where his energy could escape out from. 

Though it had only been a little while for the other since he’d debuted, Keith was highly interested in hearing all of his stories and learning about the changes one would undergo after finally reaching the stage of switching from a trainee to an actual idol. This was-- after all, what he had been working towards as of late. Now with his established group and fellow members, the said debuting day was closer than ever and it was set they’d be finally making an appearance in the later months of this year. But for that, he wanted to be prepared and what better way to prepare himself than to ask someone who had recently experienced the same thing. This, he found a better option than to ask someone who’d been in the scene for a longer time and wouldn’t be able to recall their trainee days much anymore, he wanted the honest truth.