#wshyeon

if there’s anything seojun hates more than heights (or in this case, water slides with a steep drop), it would be this: getting ignored. correction: getting ignored by hyeon. ever since the start of the music festival, hyeon had been avoiding him like the plague, barely looking him in the eye and bolting whenever he takes a step towards him or tries to exchange a word. seojun hates that hyeon isn’t talking to him, and he hates that doesn’t know why, but mostly, he hates that he cares. so much. too much. endless questions ran through this mind—did he do something wrong? did he cross the line? (or whatever was left of it, anyway.) does he hate him now? why has he been losing sleep over this? and how can he put an end to it?

well, there happens to be one way—he has to get him alone. (which clearly serves as a challenge considering how minho’s practically glued to him all day.) at this point, seojun doesn’t hide the scowl on his face as he fixates his glare (which is really just a cover-up for his childish sulk beneath) on hyeon standing across from him—a noticeable distance away. it has been two days and he’s still not going to talk to him? seems like he’s in a good mood too, huh? yapping on about that stupid ride that no one else wanted to go on—oh. that’s when it hit him. this is his chance to finally get him alone after two agonising days of getting blatantly ignored by the person he wanted to be around the most. 

“I’ll go on it.” he blurts out without a second thought, raising a hand and grabbing hyeon’s wrist with his other, before he could back out of it. “since no one else wants to.” he quickly adds with a considerate smile to seal the deal. “we’ll catch up with you guys later!” he says in a haste, dragging hyeon with him, away from the rest of the group. way to make it obvious but he really couldn’t care less right then. after all, he’s even gotten himself into a high-speed, high altitude raft ride and what’s that disclaimer? unsuitable for people with acrophobia—what?!

  Minhee couldn’t help but wonder why she was sitting across from the boy who she had insisted to buy ice cream for. The two of them didn’t seem to have anything in common, did they? Then she remembered. This is the boy who she often saw Moonsik with. What did this boy have that she didn’t? Why was Moonsik, the boy who so reminded Minhee of her father, spending all of his time with this boy when he could be spending it with her? Well, that was about to change. This time, Hyeon would spend time with Choi Minhee.

  “You’ve hardly touched your ice cream.” Minhee finally blinks after having stared at you for some time while questioning everything in her head. She points to your bowl of half-melted ice cream, causing her to pout. “Do you not like the flavor that I picked out for you?”

Feeling at home in her own family residence proved far more difficult than Chorong liked to admit. Days spent in a dorm with four other girls was a welcome change at first but there were days the sensation of homesickness pulled her back in. Of course, returning was conditional. She intentionally snaked her way in during the day when she knew her father and stepmother were off to work and her siblings were under the watchful eyes of teachers and daycare staff. Why would she? Surely they would be less than please to know she invited a boy over, of all things.

She couldn't help her loneliness. It wasn't a common thing but being alone in a house with family pictures without her in most of them was understandably alienating. Particularly when her aim was to straighten up. Honestly, how could her parents allow the place to get like this? Toys and coloring books strewn about, dishes laying in the sink, dusty film building up. She would only be able to understand once she found herself in their shoes someday but, for now, her shortsighted opinion simply exasperated her.

Minho tapped his chin thoughtfully, looking the very picture of a pensive intellectual. If he had a pair of round, wire-rim glasses on, it would really complete the look in his books. Maybe even a top hat. Or a monocle! Maybe a whole Sherlock Holmes outfit. He should really look into that next time he went shopping.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

His best friend was a known prankster. He himself was even on the receiving end of many pranks! All of them were very fun, like the time Hyeon convinced him bananas are actually blue. Sometimes Minho still wondered...maybe Hyeon was onto something. B for bananas. B for blue. He didn't know, but he thought he was connecting some dots.

Minho didn't know a lot about pranks, but being best friends meant sharing each other's interests! Just like how Hyeon lets Minho decorate him in his favorite colorful accessories, Minho was going to be the best prank buddy ever.

But first, an alibi.

Lying wasn't really his strong suit, nor was it something he enjoyed doing. But sometimes little white lies were okay! Especially if it was for his best friend!

"We could say we were, um. Hm. Maybe we were at a cat cafe. Those are really cute. There's one in Hongdae that has really good soft serve and waffles. The servers are always so nice. Even though they're not actually cats."

It had been a great disappointment for Minho, not to be served his food via cat, but he supposed it would be kind of rude to make cats shuttle plates of waffles to customers. Cats deserved worker's rights too.

     with crescent’s schedule easing, miles finds heh as more time to indulge in the things he enjoys doing most. sleeping. heavy curtains drawn across the walls, as a forearm comes to  shield at already tired hues struggling to flicker open. room adorned by streaks of sunlight, bleeding into his room. an audible groan, one from disgust that lathers his entirety with a sort of penitence for having stayed up the previous night till his head began pounding. regret number one.

     digits raking through untamed strands, as he sits up at h is bed and his alarm sirens off by the bedside. a quick glance and he spots the words, lunch with hyeon on the screen. slight panic writhing his body, feeling the quiver in his breath as he lunges for the bathroom. he’s already ten minutes late, a sigh leaving him  almost by instinct as dulled hues glaze over the reflecting surface hanging beside his front door. digits come to tug at his shirt, shifting it more appropriately on his shoulders and he decides to take it by foot to the yuseong building.

     regret number two. never run on an empty stomach. he learns this the hard way. the way his stomach growled behind the layers of fabric, the way he felt almost immobilised by the hunger that strikes his system, but he pushes on. lets his paces gradually grow more intense as the building materialises in view. he was thankful for having found a place nearby enough that he didn’t need to drive out, a fifteen minute run was all it took. out of breath he pushes through the doors of the building, finds his way lunging through the door to one of the practice rooms. 

yurim would say that she’s one of the lucky ones. ever since she’s entered yuseong, she’s heard stories from fellow trainees and debuted idols alike about how much their family didn’t support their dreams. not to say that debuting as an idol was ever yurim’s dream, but it was a decision that she ultimately made. thankfully, she had the support of her parents, and they were probably her number one fans. they showed up to any showcase and concert they could attend. they even traveled to shows outside of seoul if their schedules permitted it. overall, they did everything they could to show that they supported yurim in the path she decided to take. 

how they end up meeting hyeon is a complete coincidence. however, their decision to basically adopt him as a son wasn’t. after the first time they saw the boy, her parents ended up asking more about him than her schedule for the day. so it’s no surprise that when they decided to drop off lunch and stuff for her at the yuseong building, they had given her a lunch box filled with fruit to hand off to hyeon. 

     the mornings have been a lot busier than expected, especially with all the sudden requests for coffee, the goto for all the all nighters pulled by the idols and staff team. it comes as no surprise as she’s running down the hallway, coffee tray in hand, a folder tucked under her arm and before she knew it, she’s running into another person. she lets out a slight yelp, the coffee tray slipping from her grasp, her folder drops as hands move to cover over her sanguine lips. as soon as she makes out the victim of the coffee splatter, she’s bending over a full ninety degrees to apologise, “oh my goodness, i’m so sorry!” hurriedly reaching for the other’s shirt, patting the coffee stain down with her own sleeve before realising that it was of no use. her hands come to her grip at the sides of her hair, stressed as she intently stares at the other’s ruined attire. “let me find you something new to change into, and i’ll pay for your dry cleaning.” solid plan, she thinks to herself. 

     “i-i’ll buy you an entire new outfit to make up for this one. the material on this appears to be rather delicate, i’m not sure if it can be restored...” features moving to a frown for a moment, before realising her surroundings. the coffee spill was still everywhere on the floor, and her folder was tossed to the edge of the hallway. “if you could just wait here for a bit, i need to get this cleaned up and i’ll bring you some new clothes too.” some temporary, but plain clothes in the staffroom, enough to keep him dry from the coffee until she manages to get him a new one.

to most people, success spells out a big house, a nice car, or to build a family of their own someday. he won’t deny that these things are desirable to him too; he’d like to own a big house someday—nothing like the shabby apartment he grew up in, or drive a fancy car, the kind that whizzed by him whenever he rode his stolen bike to school everyday. he’s never quite entertained the thought of building his own family though, he’s not sure if he’d do any better than his parents did. after all, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. however, as much as he has the greed for material gains, wealth and status, there’s something greater beyond that he yearns for. 

most people remember the diamond as a shiny, lustrous gemstone, one that is desired by many. what they forget is that before it was polished and cut into its final form, it was just a grainy rock with uneven edges, very much like seojun himself. that’s what he considers his perfect idea of success—when min seojun is no longer remembered as the poor kid without a dad, when most of the world know him as min seojun, the idol, the actor, the celebrity.