#wsdae

Contrary to what Kang Myungdae would like to believe, his house might as well be Chorong’s. The moment his parents gifted her with a key, he relinquished any right to deny that she was now family. Both were originally an only child in their homes growing up. She figured he would be thankful to suddenly be an “older brother”. Her now surrogate parents seemed elated instead of concerned the more they bickered like proper siblings should. Chorong wasn’t suited for being an older sister to the two younger half-siblings she hardly knew. Being a menacing younger sister was something that suited her far better. 

( Particularly when she could playfully reenact his dramatic music videos and dance obnoxiously to Rollin’ while standing on the couch with little to no consequences. )

As usual, instead of heading to her own (legal) family home in between her training, she walked past it to the Kang residence next door. Even the smell welcomed her in a way her own didn’t. ( No clutter on the ground was also a plus. ) A smile grew on her lips when she saw a note addressed to her on the fridge. ‘Rongie, leftovers are in the blue container. If Dae comes around, make sure he eats, too.’ She pouted at the latter sentence. As if she’d ever bother sharing a home cooked meal.

The warm scent of Mrs. Kang’s kimchi jjigae swirled through the air, following Chorong as she shuffled down the hall in search of somewhere to eat. She wouldn’t dare sit in the living room and get stains on the furniture. The dining room table was too uncomfortable for her sore legs. Her feet brought her to Dae’s room, and she opened the door without a hint of hesitation. The freshly made bed looked too comfortable not to plant herself on. She tugged the blankets off and wrapped them around her legs for the perfect balance of warmth. 

Now, it was time to feast. Time toㅡ Figure out how to get kimchi stains out of Dae’s sheets.

     he hadn’t the time to tear the packages open just yet, he had spent the entire morning doing whatever it was he was doing, being all too busy to venture into the business of ghost hunting. the packages now laid between them and if he had remembered correctly, amidst them were two ghost radios and a heat sensor. he picks up a package, tearing it open with absolutely no grace, pulling out what seemed to be the ghost radio. unboxing it quickly, and giving it a good shake as to welcome it into the real world. 

in seojun’s book of carefully crafted interview answers, there is a model answer to the question, “who is the senior you look up to the most?” his answer will always be: “crescent’s day.” myungdae has everything seojun is convinced he needs to have to succeed — good looks, wit and a sense of humour, which is all you really need to appear on south korean television. honestly. for seojun who plans to venture into variety in the future, it makes complete sense why the company unofficially declared day as his mentor and role model, frequently pairing them up for youtube videos and social media content. 

at first, seojun thought this would just be another shallow transactional relationship, one that exists purely for him to gain something out of, but over time, he’s found himself genuinely enjoying the senior’s buoyant energy, which he has noticed  rubbing off on him too. when myungdae is around, seojun smiles a little more and laughs a little more. just like he was seated in front of a television airing a comedic variety show, seojun finds his stress and troubles momentarily dissipating whenever he was graced with the older’s presence. 

which is why it especially helps to have myungdae pop by and offer him support and encouragement on a nerve-wracking day like today. anyone that knows seojun would know he isn’t the most hardworking of the lot but today’s evaluation was different — his future, his only chance at escaping his abject past, is banking on how well he does today. he’s usually pretty good at taming his nerves but today, it feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest. there is still another hour till the evaluation but he isn’t sure if he could endure even another minute tangled up in these nerves.

but seojun being seojun, would rather fall off the face of the earth than wear his emotions on his sleeve, especially not the ones that expose his vulnerability. so instead, he forces himself to perk up, leaping to myungdae’s side when he shows up in the waiting room, a cheeky grin on his face. “you’re here!” he jumps onto the older, engulfing him in a hug. “what’s that?” he shifts his attention to myungdae’s phone set on self-camera mode. “are you live?” he asks, straightening out his clothes and waving to the camera. “hi everyone, I’m seojun from ys boys!” he bows a little, flashing the camera his biggest smile. “also known as day’s favourite junior.” he titters, playfully nudging the older in his side.

staying late in some practice room is something that kiha is, for the better or worse, more than used to at this point. the same way he's used to the late practices, from dancing until his body give out and some more, to sing until his throat would sting and his voice would refuse to come out because if you didn't, then the agency would choose someone who would.

it's not very pleasant, if kiha has to be honest, there are still a lot of bittersweet memories attached to those walls, to being in there this late at night, the same way it's not very pleasant the heavy feeling on the pit of his stomach, an uneasiness of not doing what he's supposed to because he's chilling in a practice room instead of practicing any of phoenix's choreographies or the last routine their dancing trainer passed to them. he should be taking the opportunity that he's with his senior to be asking for advice, even if dae isn't a vocalist, he's still a good performer, overflowing with charisma on stage so maybe—

maybe kiha is just a little tired if he's letting those things get to him, if those thoughts are popping up in his head and the phoenix's member is willing to dwell them for a little longer than he normally would — because a normal kiha would right away shrug them off as ridiculous, he's not fighting for his debut anymore, he doesn't need to grasp and cling to dear life to any and everything that appears in front of him, because he's allowed to have relaxing moments too, perhaps deserved them even when he was a trainee; maybe this is small crisis is because he's just—

"hyung." he calls out to the crescent member by his side, doesn't even realize the small pout that is already forming on his lips. "dae hyung," kiha doesn't quite whine, but there's a hint of it in his words anyway. "i'm hungry."