#pressplay.

night leans against him like a lazy backdrop. he’s blending in quite pleasantly, black bomber jacket and black jeans. it wasn’t planned but a midnight stroll turned into a midnight snack and chance found himself at an open restaurant. one of the good ones that stay out late for the kids with no place to call home and too much false pride in their chests. chance was one of them, that’s why he fits so comfortably into the scenery, among sullen faces and hopeful ones. 

he doesn’t look the part but the woman running the restaurant doesn’t seem to mind. so she’s piling and piling until he has to smile and politely hold her hand to get her to stop. there’s something so satisfyingly good about finding people like this in the crack’s of seoul, but right now he’s got four servings of meat to get rid of.

        “Okay okay, if you agree to this I’ll stop holding random showcases in front of your shop,” he only did it once but he figured her current refusal stemmed from something deeper, much deeper. Chance thinks the position he’s in warrants enough of an apology. He looks like a fool, body sprawled over the cash register and if there were customers she might’ve kicked him out already. Tentatively his hands reach out in her direction, clasped together in desperation. If that wasn’t enough, he’s got it written all over his face. “Please please please, I seriously don’t know how to handle kids, your help at the workshop would seriously be the best.” In hindsight accepting the job was bad on his part but as soon as he realized he sped here. Now all he needs is quite literally Eunjin’s blessing.

       “IF you don’t say yes I’ll start shouting lame dance puns all over the shop.”

the best thing about clubs is the bass will always feel the same against his feet. it’s the only buzz he needs to really get started when he walks in. he’ll soak it in for as much as he needs to and let the vibration makes its own dance on his skin. some people don’t like the bump in their chest, or the break in their eardrums but he lives a life like it so he doesn’t mind. it’s only after he’s sweaty and spent that he allows himself to relax, moving from the floor to another kind of pleasure.

alcohol is a good addition only when it’s necessary and never when sought out like a drug. it’s not that chance doesn’t get drunk, he’s had his nights when he’s had arms carry him to a taxi. good night nonetheless. it’s just that some nights he doesn’t need and it has nothing to do with the early session he has scheduled at starship. even without commitments and schedules chance tries to train himself to refuse it. shots, release, all of it.

someone else however, hasn’t gotten the message. he sees her tumbling out before she can catch herself and he can’t make it over fast enough. she’s just heaving, nothing too serious - for now. the night air does a good job of helping him breathe but she’s choking on it. choking and letting her hair cloud her vision.

The days have been moving by quickly as of late, tons of comebacks and tons more meetings. As companies begin the preparations to send their groups onto the stage Chance gets more requests for training when all their staff is busy with bigger names and debuted groups. He doesn’t mind it’s just the running back and forth that can be a real drag. It weeks like this that’s he’s reminded if he didn’t do what he loved he’d be worn to the bone. That’s what keeps him going.

Despite all the meetings and lessons he always makes time for a few people and KARD is definitely one of them. The energy when he walks into the practice room, no matter who is there it’s unmatched. Their routines aren't too complicated but they’re just his style, chill and just right after a day of dishing out company level routines. Why entertainment companies like to stress their trainees and then him out with overly complicated moves he’ll never know, The fatigue slips off though as he knocks on the door and peeks his head in, music greeting him with the sound of steps against the floor. No matter how tired he is, this sound will always make him smile.

“Yooo I’m looking for the dance machine of KARD can you point me to them, we’ve got business.”

“So I creep---- yeeaahhhI I just keep it on the downlow.” Music plays from his phone, low enough not to cause attention but loud enough to attract hers. It fits the atmosphere, a bit. not the lyrics, more so the atmosphere. It’s low and rumbling with a little something simmering under the surface. He’s not really creeping, he does this weird move with his feet as he inches towards her but that’s it. Chance is allowed in 2k, maybe not this late but there was no one around to tell him not to be here so - hence his appearance. It’s not unannounced, the music might be but he’s texted her he was on his way, only after a series of messages demanding his presence.

He’s trying to even things out, keep the contents of the messages under the surface too. His smile is a little awkward and anyone who knows chance knows awkwardness is always loud on him, hard to hide. “Too soon for the jokes?” He’s never been too good at reading people but he’s always good at picking up big changes and her not responding to his casual tease is something he picks up on instantly. The studio is quiet too, when he comes it’s always loud. She’s always dancing so he’s understandably confused. Chance ironically enough doesn’t know how to tread around things like this, the mind or the emotions, so he just drops beside her.

He always liked his sessions with Chaeyoung. Regardless of how serious he had to be, or how much a perfectionist she was he was often smiling when he walked in, ready to tease her for whatever joke came up in their last session. They didn't have many either, mainly because her focus was usually ballads and R&B but recently they’d dabbled in harder routines and she did her best to keep the atmosphere bright. It wasn’t in his nature to force it, he let it sit if it could, simmer between them so it didn’t boil over. Two perfectionists trying new styles can end really bad or really good. Recently it’s been good. That’s why he can tease her as he walks in and mean nothing by it. Just how she means nothing by her scowl. 

sleep sometimes comes to him like a brick, knocking the fuck out of him until he wakes up and realizes he’s had a full eight hours. sometimes it creeps up but sits on his head like a bad cold. that’s the worse, feels the worst and irks the hell out of him because he can never get it to go away. no amount of closing his eyes, sleep remedies ever seem to work and he’ll be damned if he’s calling his mom to get her opinion on the matter. she’d stuff his ears with needles, going on and on about how he can’t even sleep properly.

pass.

he’s tried warm milk, counting sheep as if that did any good. he’s even tried soothing music and working out but he’s not sleeping. not yet. it’s a slow creep of fatigue in his bones and he thinks it’s coming. after thirty minutes of insanity chance really thinks he’s got this sleep trick down. that’s until he hears a knock that sounds like a bowling ball against his door -----who the fu----