#idohsan

Schedule: Practice for an upcoming concert  2018 August

ft. @idohsan

There has been multiple times in which Sungyeol was told he lacks proper time management skills. Truthfully, he just doesn’t look at the time anymore when it comes to following a group agenda that doesn’t involve their manager knocking at his door. Sungyeol doesn’t have the energy to concern himself with the long hand of the clock. It’s been like that for a while, every minute spent away from the group, schedule or not, progressed into the classic tale of ignorance becoming bliss until it was addicting. The calm, the quiet. As long as the hour was right, the minutes were unimportant details whether he showed up where his agenda led him to five or forty minutes late.

At least his sports bag hit the ground at a timing that cloud be labelled as somewhat appropriate after having laid out multiple excuses of why he wasn’t on time to practice for a concert that was only twenty-four hours away. No one really believed him, Olympus’ manager calling out Sungyeol for a talk during which he swore on his truth. Needless to say, it lead nowhere and it only took a minute or two for the man to approach the remaining group. 

“So.. Where are we?” It’s annoyingly nonchalant. As if he hadn’t been almost an hour late, gaze light and moving between members until it set on the youngest. They always had their differences, San and him. Spouted from a seed of age difference, neither their characters nor the environment they worked in gave them a push at a right direction. Almost like faith was stone set on a dysfunctional group, any positive or neutral relationship crumbling as time passed. Sungyeol couldn’t exactly pin point when his feelings for San flipped for the worst. After all, some years of his life were blurrier and more disrupted than others. But he was sure it was in midst of uncalled fits and the child living up to his title in Yeol’s eyes.

His hands went up to stretch, sleepy back deliciously cracking at the movement. Almost as if he had rolled out of bed fifteen minutes ago. Public knowledge begged to differ, dead eyes and expressionless features speaking for themselves. “Any changes in the choreography? Arrangements?” He huffed out directly at San and let his hands free fall back to his sides, taking solace in the pockets of his apparel. 

detail your character doing a variety show appearance with @idohsan at radio star shooting

it’s good, to be alone for a while.

aroon is an only child, he grew up doing things on his own and while he got used to sharing a dorm and now sharing schedules he prefers this, the solitude of his thoughts. he has always been too selfish to willingly share even his time with someone else. and this, this is good, how he can stay silent and only do what he is told, say what he is told. how he doesn’t need to think much about anything.

it’s a big deal, he knows, to come alone to radio star. midas rarely lets them do anything, titanium is supposed to be this group of mysterious guys, hiding behind their fans on the shangri la choreography. but aroon is popular on his own, or something close to it. he did rank high on pro.j, had people commenting on how good he is, how great he looked on the show, so he has a bit of leverage over the other titanium members.

a star in the making, they call him. a diamond in the rough, in need of some more years of polishing and he will shine bright.

maybe he will shine bright like oh san, who nows makes his way to a chair next to his, who aroon greets politely. they haven’t properly talked since kcon in aroon prefers it that way because he knows san can see through him, he can see the hunger in his eyes and how much aroon wants what he has. the good, the bad, the ugly, he doesn’t care, he wants to be the golden boy like san, wants to be on top.

aroon knows the role he has to play now that san is there and he doesn’t mind, it only adds to his own image, the perfect, sweet boy who is too quiet to be a problem, who lets his performances speak for him, and the hoobae who is so glad to be there with such an important senior like san, someone he admires so much.

schedule prompt ; @idohsan. + 5 exp. + 5 skill.

he’s in some monotone white polo tucked onto a pair of khaki slacks. equally boring, equally uninteresting, both sides of the same coin. ryujin hates anything insipid. tasteless, bland, vapid. similar words, really. but all sum up what he feels. 

about the entire culture campaign.

a bore, a pain in the neck. 

there are a plethora of things he’d rather be doing: drinking somewhere with people he values enough as friend, smoking somewhere with perhaps the same companions for the hell of it. but he’s out here, in the middle of a parking lot under the blazing sun. he ignores everyone, minds his own business. for once in his life, ryujin isn’t trying to steal the show. he’s being attended to, anyway. someone’s fanning recycled, hot air into his face. thus, irritation doubles. 

worst part of all, he’s stuck playing nice with the rest of olympus. yeah yeah, ryujin gets it. he won’t be anywhere without them. yadayadayada. he gives them their due, credit for launching his name into the limelight, in glorified neon-lights. but he won’t thank them for it, for anything at all. it’s his pride that gets the better of him, keeps him silent when he’s naturally outspoken. 

these days ryujin’s abnormally tame. although, that’s relative. his definition of domestic is askew. most of his answers are. he’s someone hard to get along with, and he doesn’t try to make it any easier. so when the director mulls on about the vision is he has for safe automobile promotional video, droning words flow in one ear and out the other as ryujin fans himself. 

it’s hot. they’re outdoors with measly shade supplied by assistants and managers holding umbrellas. ryujin rolls his eyes behind sunglasses nearly too large for his face. he doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to be cramped in a car bathing in the sunlight with san talking about the importance of seat-belts and pretending---acting like he cares about any of this because he doesn’t give a shit at all.

but when his make-up is fixed, a powder puff to the tip of his nose, ryujin behaves with a sickeningly cute smile directed at san. apparently, they’re popular when together, and that should be capitalized on. ryujin understands. commercialism at its finest. so ryujn commits to what’s necessary to make this entire experience less of a nuisance and more enjoyable.

for him. 

because he and san don’t get along. on paper, they should. they’re members of the same group they dislike. but utopia is all make-believe while real life is clenched jaws, fists and pretending it---Shangri-la exists.

cure: if they could obtain a mystical cure for any facet of themselves, physical or otherwise, what would they want to cure, and why?

it’s difficult to pinpoint what jiyeon would cure first. her stubborness, her lack of self awareness, her ability of never shutting up. jiyeoon is made of mistakes and imperfections pilled up in a form of a girl who is always tired, always protecting herself from the world and keeping everyone at arms length, even when she doesn’t want to.

perhaps this is what jiyeon would fix in herself, the desperation she feels to be needed, the feeling that eats her inside of wanting to be desired, appreciated. it’s not about the fleeting desire and appreciation that comes with fame, no. jiyeon needs more, she needs to be necessary for others, like their life can’t function without her.

it’s selfish, she knows. but jiyeon has always been like this, egoistical in her desires, and this she doesn’t want to change. no, what she would cure is how dependable on others she is, how she can never be alone. call it a cliché, say it’s because she wasn’t held enough as a child – yoon jiyeon wasn’t held at all – and how everything goes back to her childhood, how she desires companionship and love.

@idsejun sent “world”

⸺  what is the most important thing to them?

what is the most important to ryan kim? to answer the question, one must look at her twofold, as who she once was - kim rian. as who she is now - ryan kim. and who the world thinks she is - eden, the nation’s first love, the soulful actress with a budding voice. throughout her life a tenuous thread has woven these three persons together, formed them into the amalgamate being that is ryan, the confused creature rife with dramatics and uncertainty, spilling over, bursting. eden wants a solo career, eden wants to be a double threat. eden wants to act and sing her heart out (and dance up to par, mostly). ryan wants to be on stage. ryan wants to perform. ryan hungers for success. 

and kim rian? the little girl cut away from her country, from safety, from certainty, wants the same thing that every other iteration of her wants. it boils down to one thing. one elusive concept, one intangible desire, grasped after with greedy fingers by a little girl mocked and ridiculed. a girl who found comfort in the representation of her people she saw slowly growing on the world stage. a girl who resolutely dug her heels in, in the face of distress and the pressure to wash herself away, to smooth out her edges. a girl who stumbled headfirst like alice down the rabbit’s hole into the bizarre, upside down wonderland - horrorland - of the idol world. who’s career has been a roller coaster of soaring heights and the desperate plummet. 

with @idohsan at kcon day one, before titanium’s debut.

aroon goes through his days like it’s a dream. if later someone asks him about it he won’t know what to answer because doesn’t remember. he has a faint memory of being told they were going to the us, they are going to debut and to hurry up. everything about the trip seems to have happened to someone else, like aroon was simply watching it as it unfolded.

now he stands in the stage at the empty arena on sound check and it still doesn’t seem real, it doesn’t feel like it’s his debut.

at this point aroon could dance to shangri la in his sleep, so he goes through the motions and is rushed out of the stage when they are done because there are many groups waiting to do their own rehearsals and no one can wait for rookies to get used to the big stage.

backstage the feeling is less constricting, aroon feels like he can breathe again. he is used to the rushed atmosphere after being on produce project, so he walks around, calms himself down before he has to return to their room and start getting dressed for the show.

it’s when he sees olympus.

at first he wants to hide, doesn’t want to talk to them, mainly jaewon, sure. but he doesn’t, because now aroon is an idol too and this is not just olympus’ space anymore – soon it won’t be theirs at all. instead he shifts his attention to san, studies him.

when aroon joined midas san was the first olympus member he paid more attention to. they had a lot in common, aroon thinks, and there is nothing like watching your seniors to learn how to be a good idol. he watches the way san moves, the way he dances – he is captivating, mesmerizing in ways aroon will never be, he knows. but he knows that he can be the next san, can be the next golden boy.

constellation –– do you have any ambitions or personal goals for the future?

sejun often measures himself differently: the sejun before atlas and the sejun after. before joining the company as a trainee, he was so lighthearted, unsure of his future and without a care in the world. he started singing and dancing on a whim, an interest built up in attending a performing arts school. he had no plans on going to university, there simply wasn’t any money with his brother attending one of the illustrious SKY. instead he shrugged his way through conversations and interviews with his teachers, snuck out to the PC rooms to play games, and avoiding his grandparents at every turn. 

KJHGC had been a simple whim. a moment where destiny took everything into its own hands and surprised the ever living shit out of him when he was accepted. he thought it would be just as easy, golden child sejun didn’t have trouble tackling things that came his way. but he was wrong, so fucking wrong. instead, he learned the meaning of hardwork, of grounding his blood and sweat into the floors of the practice studios. he traded sleep, health, and time for talent and determination. with vocal chords turned raw, he built a legacy for himself. a road that left imaginary scars on his arms, marks that only he could see when he thought about the stream of time.

@idohsan​ also sent axis.magazine meme. ( +2EXP ) 

AXIS – What do you do when you’re not practicing or preparing for a comeback?