#idxnoah

with @idxnoah at sbs cafeteria, mid gayo daejun rehearsals

there is something to be said about how at home aroon feels in situations like this, when they are thrown somewhere and told to rehearse for hours and hours. this, perfecting their dance, checking up the mics and marking their positions, this is what he likes. this is what he signed up for. the thrill that will come later on, when he performs and hears the crowd singing along, the screechy sounds when he shows up on camera.

not a day goes by in which aroon isn’t sure that this is what he was born to do. he was born to be an entertainer. and sure, there is the bad side, there were the years of training and uncertainty, there are the long hours of work, the lack of sleep and privacy, so many things that make it terrible, but so many things that are addictive in ways aroon couldn’t describe if asked to.

at least now they are given time to rest before the actual ceremony starts. and sure, aroon dreads sitting there for god knows how long, pretending to enjoy groups he never paid attention to so he is not called rude later, but there is the performance to make it all worth, or so he thinks.

he has no idea of where the other titanium members are, so aroon decides to eat something by himself before they have to start preparing. the caferia is crowded, noise of chattering filling the place as people meet with friends and relax together. 

after buying his food aroon looks for a place to sit when he sees noah. there is a faint memory of the last time they met, at the party, both too drunk to remember what they were doing. or so aroon thought then, because now he remembers details of their conversation, and it was a plesant one, or as pleasant as complaining about your life can be.

@idxnoah

Hojun always came to see Noah on a full stomach, because their bonding usually involved a lot of liquor and a shady bar. They could not go anywhere else, since Noah was an idol and Hojun was a trainee. His personality was supposed to be sweet. He should have been keeping his nose clean and for the most part, he did. At least for him. He hadn't beat anyone in the last few years, aside from playful punches and sparring matches. But when it came to soju and whiskey he was a weak, weak man. There was also the pot in his back pocket, but that was a Christmas present for Noah more than anything else.

He settled in a private booth at the back of the bar, already ordering bottles he was not planning on paying for because Noah was the idol. Hojun was never sure why Imperial got under his skin far less than POIZN. Maybe it was because the latter had forced him to become Honey, his alternate personality, and the former had a member that was always up for a bottle of liquor. There was also the fact that Noah was just so much like him. Seeing Noah was a bit like seeing himself in a few years. Except, he would have the personality he always wanted, while Hojun would have to resist the urge to occasionally slap himself.  

Hojun pulled out a notebook, a fresh one his mother had sent him for the holidays. It read Follow Your Dreams on the cover and had a sloth surrounded by a bunch of flowers. It was cheesy and awful, but it was also incredibly her. It fit well with his current image at least and he appreciated the sentiment. He began jotting down words, none that he ever planned to show the world, just words for himself. He tossed the notebook to the side once the bottles of soju appeared at their table. Hojun spotted Noah across the room and nodded him over. Perfect timing. He began to pour.

Four a.m. arrives like a whiplash. With any sort of rise comes the fall in hand, and her inebriation is no different. It isn’t as if the feeling of incoming sobriety is alien to her — she’s almost as intimate with it as she is with the sensation of weightlessness, of the boldness that accompanies getting fucking smashed — but it’s not nearly as exciting as the come-up.

The details of what’s happened are vague: her and a regular group heading out for the night; getting into the VIP section of some upscale club, some long-running entertainer’s side-hustle; chasing down watery shooters with Perignon; going from that club to the next to do it all over again. They drop like flies gradually, burdened with schedules of the past and future, picked off until it’s four, then three, then just two who manage to arrive at the finish line: the furthest booth from the window of a low-key bar in Hongdae. Funny, really, how it’s always Noah and herself at the end of it all, ready to ease into the hangover with a few beers and endearing company. And, come the morning, the mutual agreement to never drink so much again. Peas in a metaphorical pod.

"Tangsuyuk sounds good right now, don’t cha think?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement she makes, grinning over at her regular partner-in-crime. Slides into the booth with the practice of having done it a million times before. “Don’t know if I can drink anything anymore, honestly. Can still taste that last tequila. You want anything?” She gestures to one of the waiters, is quick to send him off her order, before turning to her old friend, bright-eyed and smiling from ear to ear.

“Thanks for coming out, Noah. I needed it.” Being worked half to death trying to burn the moves for their latest comeback into the back of her brain gets tiring after a while — stress relief was inevitable (despite her manager’s protests to just go home and rest). “I feel like I won't be able to go out again for a while. Schedules and shit. Ugh,” Mona sighs, arms stretching out over the table, head in the crook of her left elbow, looking up at the boy sitting by her, “I know I shouldn’t complain but comeback preparations always suck.”

@idxnoah, SBS Gayo Daejun rehearsals

Standing in the background, listening to the production staff instruct the Imperial members, Mijung felt like a set piece. A prop. It was a relatively new sensation. She’d been a backup dancer before. To be frank, the choreography of Everyday was more involved for the backup dancers than most. The dancers were actively paired with the members, more likely to have screen time. And yet, the feeling that people were talking about her and not too her sunk into her skin, burning her. Perhaps it was because this year, for the first time in her life, she’d gotten a taste of what it was like to be center stage. To have the spotlight on her. Maybe, for the first time she really wanted it. It might not have just been about debuting anymore. Maybe the part of her that craved that recognition, the praise was bigger than she’d ever thought. Of course it’d always been there. Shrinking violate as she was, no one tries to become an idol if there isn’t at least some part of them that wants to be noticed. She was the quiet, overlooked middle child. Not a problem, and yet seemingly unable to draw positive attention to herself. She was 99′s middle child, too. Neither fresh faced and adorable nor seasoned veteran. Just a long suffering trainee. Mijung wanted the chance to be more than that. To prove herself and earn some of that validation she’d been so long denied.

So maybe, Mijung wasn’t okay with standing in the background, listening and waiting anymore.

Mijung stood, stone-faced and arms crossed, until they were done like the good little trainee she was and had always been. It’d been four years of that and people like Noah Han still didn’t respect her, didn’t see her. Mijung’s eyes fell on the Imperial member. They were performing on the same stage but that didn’t matter. She was so far beneath the company’s debuted idols and they both knew it. That didn’t mean Mijung had to like it and it certainly didn’t mean she couldn’t try to change it.When the staff members were done talking to Imperial, Mijung approached Noah. 

@idxnoah​

dare: [green] speak comfortably with a senior artist without asking - 1gp

The room more crowded, the air thicker than it had before Mijung’s first shot. She wasn’t even sure how long ago that was, how many she’d had. Not that she thought that hard about it. She couldn’t. Her head buzzed and everything felt just a little dull. Gone was the control Mijung so prided herself in. It left somewhere before her fifth shot. (She thinks it was her fifth, at any rate.) In its place were clumsy movements and slow reactions. It was all very unlike her. Mijung felt unlike herself. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant sensation. Mijung, normal, sober Mijung, was always in her head. Always worried about something, always working. It felt nice to just not think for once.

There was a buzz, buzz, then a pause. It happened again. What was that? Oh, wait. Her phone. Heavy, lazy fingers fought with the folds of her skirt before they found the pocket Mijung insisted her costume have. She was very practical when she was sober. Surely, she'd have lost the device by then if she'd been stumbling around drunk, sans pockets. Mijung stared at the screen and blinked. It took a moment for the words to focus. A pout appeared on Mijung's face. Drinking was one thing but this, this was entirely too much. If she were sober, she'd never even consider disrespecting a senior artist like that. She had too much to prove.

Fortunately, for the orchestrator of this elaborate scheme, Mijung was very much not sober.

Lips still pouting, Mijung looked up and at the crowd in desperation.What was she going to do? Maybe a dancing, drinking face would provide an answer. It took a moment before her eyes landed on the solution: Noah Han.

Noah Han had what Mijung wanted. He had the acclaim, the respect of those around him, under him. She wanted so, so much to be like him. More than that, she wanted to be accepted by him, by people like him. But of course, she wan't. To Noah, it seemed, Mijung wasn't worth of so much as a glance. Resentment, jealously, always simmered low beneath the surface when she saw him. She worked so hard for so long and that still wasn't good enough for him. Mijung boiled over. She straightened, suddenly determined. Mijung knew what to do now. Purposefully, Mijung made her way toward Noah.

"Noah," Mijung said proudly. Mijung was louder, more confident than she ever did at the 99 Entertainment building. Her lips spread into the grin, a giggle threatened to spill over. She didn't, couldn't think about the consequences. They didn't matter. Mijung put on her best, most genial voice. "Are you having a good time? I am having a great time.”