#kiyeom

"Go ahead and call me fake."

SEND MY MUSE A PERSONAL QUESTION. ASK THEM THINGS YOU WANT TO KNOW! [ @kiyeom​ ] // open!

shooting her now empty can of juice into the trash a few feet away, chungha gave herself a pat on the back before turning towards the male again whilst tightening her ponytail. “wait, you want to what? dance battle?” she scoffs gently in disbelief, raising a brow at him and placing her hands on her hips right after. sure, he had been the final winner of ‘hit the stage’ a couple months back -- a feat he should definitely have been proud of -- but he seemed to be getting ahead of himself just a little. “ ... just for fun, right? you won’t be hurt if i beat you, yug?” a teasing grin settles onto her lips and she nudges him gently with her elbow. “loser buys lunch? do we have a deal?” 

Yugyeom did as he was told, almost immediately, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile. Truthfully, he didn’t know exactly what it was for, but being in this industry, it was almost an instinct to smile when you were being told to smile. It was the only face the public wanted to see, so it was the one that was practiced most often. His eyes darted around, awaiting the arrival of whatever or whoever he was smiling for, and got his answer when a group of what seemed to be higher ups in the building they were lounging in had walked past.

His smile dropped once they had passed by, though not entirely as a scent of a smile still stayed on his lips as he looked over at the latter. “How’d you see them? Did being in the industry this long give you a sixth sense?” He laughed, though something inside him twisted in discomfort at the event that just took place. “That’s the life of an idol, huh?”

It’d been a senior move. A leader move left over from her days as 2NE1′s, but she had good intentions. Even at their most tired a smile could mask that and was a lot easier and more feasible than getting the recommended 8 hours. The problem with a tired face was it could easily be mistaken for purposeful rudeness, arrogance. It was the reason idols leaned on face masks and sunglasses, even a neutral face could be seen as angry. Perfecting a fake smile was a part of the job.

A crease formed between the younger’s brows, the small fold in the skin something any of his makeup coordinators would have a cow over (not that he wasn’t used to it at this point). The wrinkle usually associated with aging had become youthful and boyish when accompanied with the frown he wore; it had been stressed to the point of bordering a pout, unintentional yet not dismissed. “They keep doing it! Pulling pranks on me, I don’t know why they don’t quit … I bet they’re thinking of the best time to do it again.”

Though the topic of the pranks that seemed to have subsided (though that may have just been Yugyeom’s wishful thinking) hadn’t crossed his mind in a long time, their seemingly nonsensical discussion had led to the topic and the feelings he had resurfaced. “Do they do that with you? Red Velvet? I bet … you seem like the type to be really gullible,” he teased despite the fact that the joke had applied to him as well. “We should have a prank war, I bet I’d win.”

Pranks between idol group members, you could say, were a normal part of idol life. Each time the bond between the members become closer and closer, it’s only natural to pull tricks on each other for laughs, or exchange in harmless banter. This, she could relate to the younger. And the little anecdote he has told her earlier elicited too many laughter from the older female. It was one of triumph, signalling the laugh of not one who is on the receiving end of each prank, but rather, the one who watches from the sidelines or maybe sometimes executes these pranks.

The 6 boxes of fried chicken stacked against Yugyeom’s chest was anything but easy to navigate with, and so the familiar voice of the latter was easily welcomed by him. He stood up straighter, still worried about speaking or moving in the fear that all the boxes would topple over and all the food ordered for the idols and staff currently in the building would be wasted. He could carry a lot of things, but not that burden, and evidently not 6 boxes of fried chicken at once.

“Thanks, Jihyo.” He huffed, the struggle in the act evident in the crease formed between his brows. “Did they send you out here to see why I was taking so long?” There was a hint of sheepishness in his tone, his voice quieter than usual due to it. “I could hardly see with all the boxes..” 

She took three boxes and carefully held them in her arms as they walked back towards the room. “Actually, I decided to walk out for some fresh air, but I am glad I ran into you because you needed a little help,” she chuckled, a joke coming to mind, “but if they fell, would you have hesitated to pick everything up and put back into the boxes if no one saw?” 

“You think I’m so easy, Hollister?” He turned his head to look at her briefly, the smile on his face saturated with mischief, playing a game that only he had known the rules to (for he made them up) and had no intention of sharing. But it was hard to find fun in games when the foods down the alley all smelled of goodness and everything his manager, and more so his health nut of a hyung, insisted he not eat. He thought himself stronger than to be swayed by a sniff or two, and so he brought his friend along to an adventure which he hoped would fill his stomach for the months to come during their tours, where fast food would be the easiest meal to grab but the #1 offender against his diet. All it took to knock down the walls he’d built up was the cart selling rows upon rows of kimbap, every kind Yugyeom could imagine and a sight which made his mouth water. The food which made him feel more at home than the sheets of his bed, he couldn’t not give in. “Okay, fine. I’ll buy one thing. One. But you have to eat it with me.”

"Come on, Yugyeom! Live a little, will ya!" She laughed as she swung her arm over his neck as her eyes gazed upon the food. Remembering that she is with a super famous idol, she retrieved her arm back and crossed them on her chest. "They all look super good. I think I'm drooling." Her eyes scanning while the aroma filled the air. Her stomach began to growl as she immedietely grabbed it. She turned towards Yugyeom to see if he has heard it or not.

He whined into the phone due to the fact that her question seemed to remind his nose that it had about a ton’s worth of phlegm it wanted to get rid of. After a sneeze or two and a groan of relief following suit of each one, he made a noise in response. “Did someone tell you, noona? Or can you hear it from my voice? It sounds weird even to me…” He concluded on his own, a sigh filling the silence trailing after his words.

“Can you bring me food when you can, noona?” He asked, despite the fact that under normal circumstances he wouldn’t think to. But laying on the couch, with his head cloudy and his nose being a pain in his—well, you know, it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “Please?”

With her being normally inquisitive, coupled with her natural concern for others (and in this case, especially for her label mates), Sana finds herself in a phone conversation with GOT7's maknae that day. "Mm, I ran into the guys a while ago on my way out after rehearsals and they said they left you alone because you were sick.. Apparently there's a bug going around the dorms and yours was the worst." She retells the male what she heard from Bambam and the rest of the guys.