#hyojongrk

@hyojongrk !!

as much as he hates to admit it, he’d been hesitant at first. joining any well pre-established group is scary ( not that won would really have known that before now, but he thinks better late than never to find out ) and to do so for something so important ( at least to him, all of this still painfully fresh ) amplifies each of his worries by triple, maybe even quadruple the size. his confidence comes and goes like a tidal wave, crashes down on him and splutters a “yes!” from his lips when he’s asked if he’d like to be part of the collaboration, yet washes away later that night, a cold sweat running down his spine as he makes an categorised mental list of all the ways this could go wrong. neither are overly pleasant, the can-do attitude overwhelms him, makes his bones ache long before they should, and the worry keeps him from getting the rest he needs but he knows he has to do this — to make a good first impression. 

still, it’s hard to ignore the urge to clean the dirt from under his nails ( even when it’s long gone ) and stretch and fold his legs in front of him restlessly when his seniors are so close by and the pressure weighs his shoulders down to the floor. he knows he’s thinking about this far too deeply, making a mountain out of a molehill, but all he’s ever wanted to do was please those around him, even if a bitterness does run a little deeper in his blood. 

he glances at hyojong out of the corner of his eye. maybe the other doesn’t notice but won doesn’t hold his breath; subtlety has never been his strong suit. instead, he accepts his fate, continues to nervously fidget until pins and needles settle in his right foot. karma, he supposes. 

since there wasn't much time left, until his contract run out and he didn't know if he would get a chance to renew it or what he should do in that case, he decided to have as much fun as possible. sure, he was more of a perfectionist, and he strived to give his best, whenever another evaluation was coming around the corner, but he somehow felt like in these last 6 weeks he shouldn't be as stiff as the past two years. everytime he tried to be serious about a performance, he was looking grim and even older than he actually was, so loosen himself up was something he should at least try once. but when he was observing at himself going through his chosen song's dance routine, the rapper somehow felt he was looking too loosened up. sure the dance of "shall we dance" was kinda relaxed and not sticking to perfection that much, but gray wasn't too sure, if he should seem like making fun of the trainers who came up with this month's task.

while still trying to fix his derpy dance moves, he heard someone coming into the practice room. gray stopped for a momet and put the music on pause, to turn around and greet his fellow trainee. then he took his water bottle and took a big sip, before giving out a big sigh. "this is much harder, than it thought it would be..." the male ruffled through his hair, thinking hard.

@hyojongrk

@hyojongrk

a groan slips past baekhyun’s lips as he slides onto the polished floor with exhausted limbs, shining underneath him because of the bright neon lights lining up on the ceiling. mouth parted, sucking in air as his breath is still heavy, chest rising and falling quickly. baekhyun’s eyes flutter shut for a brief moment. “god,” he says, and it’s a mixture of another groan and a whine, “this heat is unbearable.” they fall back open and one of his hands comes up to push his fringe out of his face, strands of hair damp with sweat. water dripping down the side of his face. his shirt is sticking to his back as well like a second skin -- everything just feels gross.

his other hand reaches for the collar of his shirt, pulling it away to fan himself a little. it’s not like it helps much, though.

it seems like nothing can help right now when the room’s air conditioning is broken, only to repaired the upcoming day. no windows to open, no way to let the stuffy and humid air escape; if they open the door, the music will blast through the halls and that’s not good as well. no other room is free, only those where air conditioning is broken as well, every other room cramped with trainees trying to go with their practice under humane conditions.

so, he’s stuck here with hyojong.

the last few weeks have been despondently glum. 

life in general just doesn’t seem to be looking up for her at the moment, save for a few glimpses of a smile here and there. jisoo takes pride over the fact that she does not feel sentimentality quite often and sadness is more of a foreign concept. but beyond frustration, it’s what she has been feeling more or less over the course of the month.

she knew it was brought upon by her chaotic fight with hyojong and jennie’s inevitable moving out. between these two occurrences, a lot of things just doesn’t step right into place.

her coping mechanism during the off chance when she feels sadness or anger used to always be in the form of finding a character to embody who has a lot of similar pent up negative energies -- they really aren’t so difficult to find. she’d memorize lines, let a few tears out, and even scream if she has to. at the end of the day the emotional release would bring her comfort and a clearer sense of mind. but this time around, the month’s evaluation offered the perfect opportunity to change gears. perhaps being one with a character would have to be done some other time.

the first color that popped into her head was red for it was the color best associated with feelings of anger. but it has been weeks since the fight and after she’s had much time to think about it, she is just left with feelings of hopelessness. and the same thing goes with her feelings about jennie’s debut and impending moving out. jisoo recognizes that she’s bounded by selfishness but that in reality, she’s got nothing to do about it. so it appears that the month of june has wrapped her in unwarranted feelings of hopelessness unlike anything she has experienced before.

but she’s not a quitter -- she knows how to turn her hopelessness into hopefulness.

mga season 4 ... episode 2 #4041 -- jung jaewon performing :: how r u today < 0:00 - 0:40 // 1:24 - 1:43 > -- instrumental [ x ] < 2:04 - 2:24 >

his pen taps restlessly against the corner of his lips as he sits cross legged on the floor, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. he resorts to biting on the end of the cap before he’s readjusting-- his arms at an awkward position with his guitar wedged between his body and the low coffee table. he manages to reach his notebook anyway, scribbling on it haphazardly and dropping the pen to the side, replacing it with a guitar pick between his teeth as he strums quietly.

he is so focused that he barely registers the soft thudding of padded feet along the scuffed hardwood of his floors, until the nudge of a wet snout against his arm has him pulled out of his trance. he blinks at his dog who has plopped right next to him, reaching out to scratch between the pup’s ears. “what’s up, dubu?”

his voice falls on deaf ears, and jaewon follows his pet’s line of gaze to fix on the television muffled in the background. he blinks, letting out a soft huff of surprise at his own face filling the screen, grabbing the remote to turn the volume up just the slightest. “you’re right, dubu. that’s me!” he places his guitar aside to scoop up his pet, ignoring the fact that he’s grown slightly too large to be considered a lap dog anymore. neither of them mind, as dubu settles down so happily in his lap that he has to view the tv through wisps of fur on top of the dog’s head.

“that’s me.”

his hands are shaking.

jaewon doesn’t get nervous, but his hands shake. he checks his phone, calms his breathing briefly after scrolling through his texts with hyojong-- it helps a little. he tucks his phone away, his hands shake less.

he looks at them dully-- wipes them on the side of his pants before he hides them behind his back, between his back and the back of the chair-- hiding them from view. the bass rings heavy in his ears as one by one, his group members step up and perform, mouths pressed close to the mic, varying levels of tenor and baritone blasting through the speakers as the judges watch and scribble on their little notepads.

he leans back against the chair, eyes open and staring intently at each contestant-- he’s not really looking at them though. he is, however, listening avidly, the music and style of each individual pounding through his brain. there’s a lot happening-- he hears the shuffle of nervous feet, the hushed whispers of peoplr rapping under their breath, the pacing of the current contestant as they spit into the mic. and then all of it comes to an abrupt halt. it is silent.

“jung jaewon.”

he stands up and exhales slowly.

it’s different-- it has to be. he hasn’t performed like this-- if ever, in front of a panel of judges. and he’s never performed lyrics like this. when he writes, he likes to create stories-- he does it often for other artsits. he’s a good storyteller.

but when he performs them himself, he likes to portray them as such-- just stories. and if this particular song has anything to do with his life, well. nobody has to know.

@hyojongrk

(* it’s a little messy-- there’s clothes strewn about, suitcases half unpacked, skin products and books and sheet music lying haphazardly around the living room and forming a trail into his bedroom. dubu treads through the chaos like it’s an landmine, nose wrinkled in irritation-- though, the overall effect is nullified by the little plush pumpkin pin jaewon has clipped onto the snowy white fur atop the dog’s head, right between his ears. ) ... (* but, jaewon can’t quite find it in himself to care, even though, somewhere, a voice in the back of his brain is nagging him that he should get his life together-- but it’s been there for a while. instead, he is wrapped up in a fluffy duvet, happily curled up against hyojong on his couch, some old american horror film flickering in his irises as he looks at the tv screen. he’d gotten a haircut during his visit to his hometown in the phillippines-- so his bangs just brush the tips of his eyelashes. )