#md.wd

BTS:

Born and raised in Seoul, South Korea to a working class mother and father, Rorin never had it easy as a child. Living in a more expensive area of town due to their jobs, the two of them could barely afford to stock their fridge with groceries, so there was no room for luxuries and impulse purchases. Finding joy in the simple things was a necessity, so as a child, she found pleasure in the various hobbies she could teach herself at home. For one thing, they didn’t cost any money, and for another thing, it gave her a vivid and wild imagination. From sketching original cartoon characters to emulating the voices of those she loved, to later using her artistic skills to pick-up on calligraphy, she took on a lot of simple interests. In school, she was very detail-oriented, organized, and focused—her parents drilling in her head that a good education could promise her a beautiful future. Never wanting to disappoint them, she worked hard; never receiving low grades.

Upon the entrance to middle school, her father was let-go from his job; his decades of work in vain. With her mother being the sole earner of their home for awhile, the Byun household saw a lot of dark moments. Her income wasn’t nearly enough to put food on the table and pay their bills, but they somehow managed to make things work. Home-life was a mess, and what’s worse is that school wasn’t much better for her. Because of her financial situation, many students made fun of her. Due to her smarts, she was able to test into a pretty good school with a scholarship, and it was made apparent that she wasn’t like the kids who paid to study there. That insecurity and ridicule is what caused her to begin lying to earn her peers’ respect. First, it was letting them know that her dad had picked up another job that was paying them good money. Then, it was using every penny of her menial allowance money to buy herself meaningless things to show status. Many lunches and dinners were sacrificed; all in exchange for a little acceptance.

In high school, she started to sew designer tags onto her thrift store clothing—claiming that she admired expensive, vintage fashions. By this point, she’d learned to lie as if it was her second language. It became so comfortable for her to spill untruths to friends. What’s worse is that they believed her for a very long time, but as they aged, they were able to find flaws in her stories. It was difficult for her to keep up with fibs she’d told, so before graduation, she was exposed as a fraud. That completely muddied up her spot as number one in her class. Looks like her overactive imagination couldn’t save her this time around, but she hoped that she could create a new version of herself in college.

Thanks to yet another scholarship earned because of her grades and high test scores, Rorin began attending university—her chosen career path in the world of business marketing and media. With how her brain worked, it was easy for her to come up with strategies to sell things to a consumer; her way of lying used to dupe people into purchasing products. Though, in the midst of her studies, she was stopped at a shopping mall by a casting agent from Midang Entertainment. After he praised her visuals, she was in complete shock. For most of her life, she felt as though she paled in comparison to all of her former “friends” from years ago. They had the money to afford cosmetic surgery, high-end cosmetics, and skincare to keep them aglow twenty-four-seven, and she had nothing except good genetics. If that. That’s what the company seemed to like about her, though: the pale skin, the large eyes, the look of innocence, the naturalness. It was what they were looking for completely.

Their offer brought up a lot of thought. First of all, it was flattering that they stopped her in the first place. She wasn’t someone that was used to being called “beautiful,” so that left an impression on her that she couldn’t forget easily. Secondly, if she was passable enough to début, that could mean a lot of money in the future. That’s the most crucial thing to her: becoming independently wealthy to a place where she could support her family. Yes, earning a degree and holding down a good job would have a similar effect, but she wasn’t sure which road to financial gain would be faster to travel down. In the end, she took a leave of absence from school and start training; aiming to be an idol.

What she lacked in performance she made up for with sharp intellect; her every move calculated to show that her charms weren’t necessarily resting on singing or dancing. It was made apparent from day one that she was meant to be someone marketed for their supposed “beauty” alone; someone that didn’t have a crucial musical role in their group, but one who attracted fans with smiles, winks, and solo magazine covers. Was she able to pick-up on the basics of dance, the easy fundamentals of singing, and the power of rapping? Yes, but only to a degree that made her match the concept and sound. Instead of polished belted notes, she stuck to a girlish, cute timbre that made her recognizable. For dancing, she didn’t focus on technique, but instead, on exuding a pleasant energy; donning endless grins and flirtatious gestures to pull in a crowd. That made her an asset instead of a hindrance, so despite not being fully prepared, she was added to Wish Day.

Being appointed as the group’s official visual, netizens had a lot to say about her at their début. Some praised her “effortless beauty,” but others were critical of her appearance. Often, her “haters” would point out that her face wasn’t exactly the smallest around and that her body didn’t perfectly suit the current ideal. At first, it was a massive blow to her system. Who wants to read such awful things about themselves anyway? It took her a moment to navigate her way through comments sections on live stages and fan-cams, but after awhile, she was able to draw a line between Roa and Rorin. In a lot of ways—mostly physically—they were the same, but behind the scenes, they couldn’t be more opposite. That division alone is what allowed her to mostly keep her sanity in check.

In essence, this wasn’t necessarily a dream of hers that came true; it’s just a job. It’s one that could set her up for life if she plays her cards right. Money’s the end goal, after all. It had to take a lot more than toxic comments to throw her off course. Keeping her eyes on the bigger picture, she has countered with wrapping herself up in a more palatable façade. After the first two years in the industry came and went, she began to approach an image that made her everyone’s ideal type; longing to appear as “girlfriend material” to both guys and girls. These moves, like always, were done on-purpose; her hope that being someone adored would earn a much bigger payout than someone controversial.

With each new release, Rorin’s been able to reveal all the best sides of herself to the public at large. Does she still get an influx of comments telling her that she’s a clumsy dancer or complaining about the fact that she never actually sings live unless forced? You bet, but she takes comfort in just accepting those as true facts. She can still be desirable even if she’s sloppy on-stage. It’s not like she’s in the dance-line or renown for stunning vocals, so why should it matter if she was lacking in comparison to the others?

BTS:

there’s supposedly nothing special about dahee when she’s born. she’s the middle child with an older brother and younger sister, but she’s never really felt isolated since her parents did a great job on making sure each and every child was loved. she believed she’d grow up with no big difficulties in life

she’s young when she discovers a love for the arts. it’s mostly painting and drawing, and so her parents decide early on that that’s the road that she’ll be pushed, and she doesn’t fight against it since she enjoys it as well

she’s just starting her high school years in an arts high school when her life changes on two occasions. one: she’s approached by a talent scout from midang entertainment who claims that she’s exactly what they’re looking for. she politely declines because she’s majoring in painting, and that’s the only road she wants to go down, but the casting manager doesn’t give up and eventually succeeds in handing dahee her card. she doesn’t put much thought into it. until two: her father is scammed out of his money by someone he believed he could trust. suddenly he’s out of a job, and the family is crashing. there’s red tags on everything at home, and she finds herself feeling guilty for wanting to stay in college anymore. it’s then dahee decides that being an idol doesn’t sound too bad, and so she steps into midang entertainment on her own with the casting manager’s card in her hand, and that’s the beginning of what she hopes to be a new, enriching life

dahee’s never been interested in any of the arts other than painting, and so when she’s suddenly pushed left and right, it’s difficult. there seems to be some kind of natural talent that backs her up when it comes to singing though because that’s where she gets most of her praise, and it’s what she ends up spending more time on. she practically lives at the training center because she doesn’t want to go home and hear her mother cry at the dinner table every night and because she’s determined to debut; she absolutely has to.

her hard work pays off or she’s simply lucky because three years later, she’s announced as the leader of the company’s new girl group as well as the lead vocalist—those extra hours she spent in the singing booths seems to have paid off—and all she can think is thank you

the debuted life isn’t too different from the trainee life, especially in the beginning. it’s a repetitive process, but dahee doesn’t complain since it’s better than being stuck at home with the red tags reminding her of what her family has crashed down to. seeing her easel and painting materials hanging around in her room is just a big fuck you to everything that she could have become. so she just follows along with everything the company wants her to do like a little puppet

she puts on the act of being the perfect idol. aegyo? you’ve got it. some overexaggerated reactions for a couple more seconds of screen time? dahee’s on it. impersonations that aren’t even funny but people laugh at anyway because she’s trying? she practices so hard for that. the one and only skill that she actually has is painting, and the company is quick to make sure everybody knows that. soon, dahee’s drawing everybody and everything to prove to people that she’s some art prodigy that decided to become an idol instead—as if she had a choice

to fans and the public, dahee quickly becomes some kind of born-to-be-idol as they comment about how they can’t imagine her being anything else though she definitely can

she’s entertaining, pretty and can sing quite decently—she’s their lead vocalist after all, isn’t she?—and so she gets a couple more opportunities than she would like in the form of ost’s and show appearances but as long as that means the money keeps rolling in, she goes with it. that’s the only reason she’s in this job anyway. the money

BTS:

before saerom signs to midang entertainment, she’s flying high in her second year as a k-arts university cheerleader―not quite the “bring it on” kind who gets tossed in the air, but the kind in lace-up boots, baggy victorian sleeves and ruffles, who hype up the crowd at sports events through chants and cheers only slightly different than that of cheer squads in the west. like amusement park performers, it reads more shakespearean play than ra-ra-ra!, though she supposes if that were truly the case there’d be a touch more irony in their school festivals. a rose by any other name is still a rose. or something.

before that, she’s a dancer ― the kind that’s good enough to compete in local competitions, but not the prodigal kind, not the kim yuna destined-for-gold kind. she holds her own, but she’s humbled by dancers levels ahead of her, enough that she thinks better of making it her major in college when she applies, enough that she knows better than to embarrass herself by raising her hand for lyrical solos when the opportunities arise for volunteers. besides, most of the parts she really wants have a way of becoming hers anyway. her instructors consider her a stand out, charismatic, and they pick on her when she talks too much in class, when she wears her hair differently, when she does well during class critiques. she lacks ambition, but never fails to lead the eye, the conversation. she knows exactly what she’s doing. some of her classmates see through her “who, me?” bullshit and call her on it. whatever. they’re jealous.

her mom thinks that she was born for greatness  ― her mom is a former dancer, too, but more than that, she’s a one-day-i-could’ve-been-a singer who lives vicariously through her daughter’s accomplishments. even the little ones. especially the little ones.

the two of them live alone, her dad long gone to marital discord and the lingering regret of having a child too young, too soon with a woman he only barely loved - he keeps in contact and houses her in the summer at his new home in busan, with his new wife and new kids, who saerom feels right at home with. he’s a lawyer, her mother a sonographer. they’re on amicable terms and saerom feels spoiled at every holiday, through every opportunity that being born well-off provides her. doted.

the first big risk she ever takes of her own volition is by auditioning for midang in the spring semester of her second year as an acting major, and from there the list kind of grows, leaps and bounds, as she learns the benefits of being an acknowledged talent within her company - the benefits of wanting something badly enough. and she’s content when she’s placed into a debut project group with the projected role of lead dancer and vocalist, and, later down the line, she pretends to be surprised when she’s made the face of the group, (overlooked for leader even as the oldest member, thank fucking god) as well. she’s likable, pretty, and talented in the way that’s become indicative of a midang entertainment idol, the way the face of the group should be. they’d be stupid to pick anyone else.

debut is a lot less foreboding after it actually happens, and saerom thinks that the hands in action do a good job of promoting them for what they are, for their contrast as an act on- and off-stage, as endearing as they are ethereal. they’re hardly delicate as individuals, but she thinks that it adds to their charm. they lean into the fickle nature of the industry; you like them even if you don’t.

she’s a year into it when her first opportunity to act falls into her lap ― it’s a small role in a school webdrama, something to test the waters while they all find their niche as idols. filming goes well, but group promotions don’t stop either, and she feels the effects of it through a lack of any real time to breathe. the webdrama does well, she’s well-received despite her lack of practical experience in acting, and it’s from there forward that her personal schedules, her group schedules, and her work load as a student, intertwined and overlapping, become her new normal. her personal fanbase grows exponentially. she likes the attention.

she’s one of the lucky ones in terms of public standing. still, nothing prepares her for the online backlash that comes with the praise. a balance of the two becoming something that she comes to expect whenever she does anything outside of the group ― she thinks she’s as hated as she is loved, a side effect of fame, of relative visibility, but she knows better than to complain; kind of likes it, even. so, she takes it in stride, as well as she can. only tortures herself with reading through hate comments online about her performance in her latest role when she feels down enough; only soothes the burn with love from her fans when she thinks she’s earned it. negativity always sounds the loudest.

she doesn’t know when the change happened, when it started to matter what anybody thinks of her, but her hardwork is her currency, her face and her name and her personality. she’s funny, unobtainable, beautiful ― kim saerom, rosé. she’s everywhere.