#fmdmoonjin

Trevor was often underestimated. When Knight first debuted and he was given the title of the main rapper, he was immediately met with flack from the hip hop community in South Korea. They all frowned upon idol rappers and expected the worst from them. Their biggest argument being that they were only called rappers because they couldn’t sing as well as the other people in the group, or at all for the matter. Trevor had to admit, in some cases that was true, but not in his own. He participated in Show Me The Money just to prove to people that he was an actual rapper first, and an idol second. 

People underestimated his singing skills. He was by no means a great singer, but he was pretty decent in his own right. He would even go so far as to say that he was good at it, although it was a skill he had to develop over time. When he featured on not one, but two of Daeun’s tracks where he mostly sang, people were shocked by his singing, as if they thought he couldn’t carry a tune in a rusty bucket. It was upsetting, but it always felt good to prove people wrong.

Another area he was underestimated in was his lyricism and compositional skills. What many people didn’t know was that he had writing credits all over Knight’s discography, mostly their more recent work. He had his lyric writing skills put to the test during a segment on a variety show where he had to write a song with Moonjin, and they had ended up winning the game. That was the last he had seen of Moonjin until he showed up at Knight’s front door several weeks later.

He was confused to see him, but he put a smile on his face nonetheless. “Moonjin.” His tone conveyed his surprise, but he wasn’t upset or bothered by his presence. “What brings you all the way over here?”

Today was supposed to be an easy day. 

Emphasis on the suppose to be. BC retaliated against his rebellious behavior with white lies and by withholding the truth - not that they hadn’t done that before all of this - and in this case his manager refused to tell him that he’s working with Moonjin for the promotion. ‘It’s good for Decipher’s image, it’s good for your image’, they said to him, and he subsequently surrendered when they claimed to have Haejun waiting to take his place (like hell that’d happen). 

Now he’s waiting for the tension to simmer out as they enjoy their final moments in hair and makeup, moments that fall away all too quickly for his liking. He didn’t have a major falling out with Moonjin like he did with other people, but that didn’t mean he was in his good graces. There’s a feeling of anticipation creeping up his spine, one that unsettles him and puts him on edge. Luckily, he’s reached expert level in pretending to be unbothered. The staff finishes and he looks over to Moonjin, thinking how the last thing he wants to say is something cliche, like ‘how have you been’. 

“How are you?” he asks anyways, his brain short-circuiting. Did he even want to know? He rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward, and looks away to watch as the handlers guide a couple small dogs onto the set. The job should be short and easy, why make it more complicated by pretending he cares (even if he still, in a closed off part of himself, cares, and misses Moonjin’s friendship)?