#doc:p

         Who in their right minds would spend an early morning sacrificing sleep just to learn the science of kimchi-making?

         Under the right conditions, Myungsoo would.

        He wakes up to a bad morning that day, feeling as if his stomach has transformed into a monster overnight. The food offered during breakfast had not been enough to satiate his hunger, and so the prospect of getting to eat free food (one of his favorites, no less) afterwards is enough to lure him into signing up for the morning activity. Anyway, what could go wrong with kimchi?

         The trainee shows up several minutes late for the session but he’s warmly welcomed by the instructor already wearing red pepper paste-stained gloves. Quietly occupying one of the vacant tables, he looks at the other people in the room and feels a twinge of embarrassment upon seeing a fellow trainee. No words nor waves are given as a greeting -- just a smirk as an attempt of dispelling the awkwardness rooting from the idea that he’s actually here with the intention to learn more about kimchi.

          Fresh meat is clearly abundant these days, as Myungsoo sees another wave of newly-signed trainees walking the halls of Sphere. New trainees have always meant new pranks for the rest of the lot, something about giving them a warm welcome to the company, though the male didn't particularly see the purpose of the whole idea of such practice. If not for him getting sick of people talking his ears off about doing it, he wouldn't exactly pull off a Troy Bolton on strangers as a way of upholding the tradition.

          Troy Bolton my ass.

          The raven-haired male thinks to himself as he purses his lips together, finally deciding that this is the last time he'll be dealing with the hey-Myungsoo-it's-your-turn-to-do-stupid-shit talk. It's downright silly having to do something as purposeless as this -- because who needs a warm welcome in a place of Satanic practices such as training? -- but it's not like Myungsoo is entirely devoid of a sense of humor. His is a little twisted, sure, but it's sense of humor regardless. Besides, the idea of Luna and Suji and everyone else leaving him alone needs to happen as soon as possible -- and it'll never happen unless he submits to their demands.

          So, he instantly goes for the kill. He scoffs towards the girls prodding him on before he walks away from them and towards an unsuspecting trainee. The cafeteria is full at lunchtime, but it's easy to detect unfamiliar faces from the crowd; Myungsoo approaches one of them as soon as he sees her, sitting down on the vacant space in front of the girl uninvited. There's a divine moment of silence where he scrutinizes her with his signature steely stare. After several seconds -- just right before the girl can even do anything -- he starts to sing a song in the most disturbingly low tone he can muster.

rkhyeri:

[ contact found: 명데레 ; ] [ date sent: dec 27 ;  ]

[ sms: 명데레 ] myungsoo! did you make it?

          It’s been almost two hours since Sphere’s first round of stage rehearsals, and since then Myungsoo has already gotten himself caked up with loads of cosmetics to complete the stereotypical representation of a zombie. He can barely recognize himself in front of a mirror with such a convincing make-up coupled with the threadbare clothes he’s donning. He looks terrifying enough, and he’s satisfied with it – Myungsoo figures it’s better to look so bad that no one recognizes him, instead of sporting a zombie ensemble that can’t hold a candle against a five-year-old’s Halloween costume.

          Without anything else to do in the crowded waiting room, he heads out to watch performers from other companies rehearse their own Gayo stage. He’s in the middle of checking out Triple Crown’s performance when the phone in his jacket vibrates. Myungsoo is definitely not expecting Hyeri’s contact name appear of all people, but he finds that paying attention to anything remotely related to her will be a better use of his time than watching people run around with battle visors and plastic guns in some semblance of a choreography.

          To a detective, some of the most bizarre circumstances happen in the form of criminal cases. L has handled one too many crimes orchestrated by a twisted mind, but even then, the man’s intellect still has the capacity to provide sound, logical solutions to these mysteries. Of course, the Shinigami factor in the Kira case is an outstanding exception -- still, he was able to single out the perpetrators through genius deduction. But this...

          Five hours. It’s already close to five hours of a painfully unbearable experience with some of the most monstrous creatures he’s ever encountered, and there are still not enough tells to latch onto about whether the nightmare would end soon or not. As a practitioner of logical thinking -- arguably the world’s top detective at that -- rubbing elbows with a talking skeleton, or being chased down by a zombie that actually eats human flesh makes L question the soundness of his current state. He's still sane enough to recognize absurdity, but he fears it might not last long.

          “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone?”

          Myungsoo hears the question cutting through the faint background noise of speeding vehicles and night breeze. “Are you waiting for someone?” More slurred words spill into the air; the owner of the voice is a gangling man around his twenties as the trainee can see from several feet away. In the vicinity was only him, the stranger, and a girl whom Myungsoo barely talked to, but recognized enough for her name to be remembered. Circumstances can be seen from many a perspective other than his own, but to Myungsoo, this scenario he’s witnessing doesn’t spell safety at all. (Especially when the female is evidently avoiding her pursuer’s incessant prodding.)

          His steps further approach the bus stop with suppressed urgency. Eyebrows deepen into a scowl as Myungsoo announces his presence with the scuffle of his sneakers against the pavement, rough and heavy. He takes more steps forward to his fellow trainee, interrupting the other man’s drunk soliloquy without so much as a warning.

          Training in Sphere reminds him of school in more ways than one: there are strict schedules, demanding classes and different kinds of students he’d rather not stay in a room with for more than five minutes. One of the most notable things about the company, however, is its notorious line-up of teachers that exercise their authority in the best (worst) way. While it might be true that horrible teachers exist in every learning institution (even in entertainment companies like this), Myungsoo wishes there were a way he could live without them.

          He’s only a few levels away from seething as he finds himself standing outside the music room with another trainee, their vocal coach giving them a condescending look that makes the young male’s jaw clench in barely-concealed resentment. “I don’t need five-year-olds in my class. You two will be happily welcomed back once you pipe down and resolve that argument of yours, but until then, learn how to act your age.”

rkluna:

luna spotted myungsoo in the hallway after independent study let out as the herd of sphere trainees gradually channeled towards the diner for dinner. if asked, she would blame being able to recognize him by the back of his head on being on the same season of the mgas as him and watching his performances from backstage, although it was probably myungsoo’s signature aura that gave him away– something like a natural, silent state of misanthropy. of course, that didn’t dissuade luna. she practically skipped over to his side, then swung an arm around his shoulders like it wasn’t a complete invasion of personal space.

“so, sphere’s grumpy cat kim myungsoo, have you thought of a nickname for yourself for the upcoming evaluation yet?” truthfully, luna never knew what to expect from myungsoo, so any of his ideas could’ve been genius or flatter than his typical tone of voice when speaking. “if you had to give me a nickname what would you call me?” obnoxious, luna answered the question herself in her mind with her best internal myungsoo impression.

          Apparently, half a day of contemplation isn’t enough to think of a short, simple line that would showcase his prime identity as a budding artist. The evaluation task makes Myungsoo realize that he isn’t aware and certain of himself as much as he thinks, for every idea that pops in his mind is rather tacky or unbecoming, and other people’s (other people being Joonyoung) suggestions don’t quite make it past tolerable level. The quandary continues to occupy him even as he makes his way to the cafeteria for food, not noticing another trainee prancing towards him until he’s slightly shaken from the impact of her throwing an arm over him.