#famedcrowned2

"it’s not like that.” ki had aimed at a strong sound in her sentence, but the words drew out, closer to a whine. when she had brought up to minjung that she was starting a dance unit with gyujeong, her expectations were that of congratulations. with how excited she was about the prospect, she’d have thought her members would be excited for her, but given the group’s relationship, she could understand that they might not have known before now that it was a goal of hers. however, kiana would have accepted many reactions with mild disappointment. neutral, even dismissive, she could make sense of those.

but, this? again? kiana didn’t know how long minjung could keep up this rouse. “don’t you think if i had a joey, i would have been showing by now?” she wasn’t even all that sure if pregnant women should be dancing in the first place. “we’re not like that, honestly. next you’ll be saying we’re in a throuple with daemin.”

hyojung wasn’t entirely sure how much the news of her fainting had gone around, but it seemed that almost everybody on set had heard about it. she hadn’t checked the internet to see if an article had gone up, but she’d assume that neither mnet nor her company would have wanted to spoil that before the episode so the safe bet is that through word of mouth, people within the industry heard about the dramatic falling of jung hyojung during a selene rehearsal.

she’s lingering around—desperately trying to find an area where there isn’t some camera down the corner—when she spots a familiar figure walking towards her. usually, she’d avoid interacting with anybody on the day of performances because of how chaotic the whole experience is, but there’s a wave of relief that overcomes her once she spots yerin. someone she knows won’t give her a ninety degree bow simply for walking down the hall. 

when she gets close enough, hyojung gestures for her to come over. “how are you doing?” it’s a pretty stupid question because she thinks the only logical answer to that question is tired or exhausted, but she asks it anyway. small talk’s usually a difficult topic for her, but she genuinely wants to know how yerin’s feeling on this busy day.

truthfully, the rankings for the first round were unexpected. well, she’s not sure if she should say that when she had also picked catalyst as the weakest stage, but she had said that only because she really wasn’t sure who to pick. plus, she did think the concept to their song was a little off and despite the members being talented, it just felt all over the place. 

nevertheless, when she ends up bumping into jihoon in the halls of gold star as they’re preparing for their next round, she can’t help but feel a bit of guilt. clearing her throat, she slowly made her way towards him before giving him a poke on the arm. “hey, how are rehearsals going? that is, if you can say.” there were no cameras around them at the moment, but they did have microphones on. realizing this, she reaches over to turn off her own mic pack. they could all use some moments without the production crew potentially spying on them.

she didn’t want to ask about his feelings on the last round, but she thinks they’ll come out when he starts discussing the current round they were preparing for. there were all kinds of remixes that played through the hallways so she wasn’t even sure what song catalyst ended up with.

the least of his worries come when he’s flying solo. no expectations, little curt words pulling in the half-amused expressions from the camera staffs, the dead-beat sighs from the producers, and straight cut into another five minute break.

he only gets fucked over when the staff pulls another blueprint of decisive tricks, yanking him into one place, bringing in the other placeholder.

so, now — he’s managing. managing in a silence, tongue-in-cheek resignation leading to no exit signs and the impatient echoes of the staff surrounding him. the other placeholder’s someone of familiarity, summed up in the brevity of another competition show and bare minimum greetings in passing.

break bread with those you share your space with. sung had long since been told to follow as much, and while she felt this was the case most of the time, there were exceptions. for quite a while, rather than trying to mend what she could, sung ran away from taeyong. the picture she’d painted of him after all this time was mean, grumpy, and filled with tears.

but joosung was feeling good. for the first time in weeks, she felt a hop in her step, and where better to spread the joy than breaking bread with someone she’d previously hoarded from? after all, a quick well wishing wouldn’t do any harm.

“good luck out there!” she’d started the conversation there, and expected it to end with all of one more sentence, probably from his side, but realization stopped her in her tracks. polaris had already filmed for this round. sung mentally bat away at the lingering thoughts trying to drag her mood down. “um, or, good luck with the rankings anyway. i’m sure you’ll do really well again, at least with the fan votes. stella really love you guys.”

filming days were always something that were the longest, even with titan and polaris filming the day prior, it didn’t knock that much time off. but, at least there wasn’t a need to have to worry about performing today for duri, right? he simply just got to rest from performing and only do the reactions portion of filming that day without the pressure of performing. which was nice, but it was still something that was rather long, nonetheless. but, he was always thankful for getting the breaks between filming, when things were switching. it gave time to stretch a bit and get out of the rooms they were filming in. 

duri had been stood off to the side somewhere, taking in the openness and everything like that. oddly, he was feeling a bit claustrophobic, but he wasn’t entirely sure why that was. maybe it was the fact of being within those greenrooms during filming for so long or maybe the pressure of everything that just seemed natural. but, he was sure it would evade soon, as he didn’t often get that feeling, unless it was an elevator, and those were something that duri just didn’t step in. nonetheless, he stayed in his spot for a moment, looking at all the groups shuffling on by. 

❝ my friеnds say that I'm naïve pretending to be fine and saying that i'm doing well they say i look emotionless @gyujeongfmd​, off camera

minhee was walking around, tossing his bottle of water from hand to hand, making himself look as busy as he could really. there was only so much you could do while walking around the broadcasting station, looking for someone that wouldn’t judge him and his monotone tone and pace. a guy could dream right? the thought itself makes him physically sigh, shoulders dropping as he round the corner, walking straight into someone.

“i’m so sorry-“ the dancer speaks up, before he even looks at who it is, bowing deeply while taking a step or two back. he raises his head slower than he lowered it, but the little worry in his body vanishes when he sees gyujeong. “oh, hey.“ minhee says, the brightness from his voice dimming a bit and his shoulders slouching. its gyujeong, he doesn’t need to pretend he has the energy around him, right?

she doesn’t blame the inevitable, knowing the little quirks and edges that unwrap in a visibly untouched, pristine industry. daunting perfection comes with the risk of unwarranted fractures — surprises that throw in a new variable. and to that, she only awaits lost in sea.

assimilation, it’s what she’s always known.

so, she doesn’t mark her greetings with a frown smudged across her face, or a lecture awaiting on the tip of her tongue (she’s been on the other side. knows how heavy the pressure sits across shoulders). instead, she welcomes her partner with a doe-eyed stare, polished off with a polite smile and a bow of her head — hierarchy still applies, and the cameras are still on.