hdnayoung

[hdnayoung]

xoxo, @hdcheorin

nayoung's halfway falling off the suede chaise, legs kicked over the edge like she's just been thrown there by god himself. her dress is some silk slip thing that keeps riding up, her blonde hair's a little damp from the champagne she tried to pop and ended up spraying all over herself, and she's laughing. not because anything's funny, but because cheorin's with her and she's looking at her like they're about to ruin someone’s night.

"#2," nayoung drawls, "tell me honestly. if we ran away tonight. like just stole a car and drove to busan, who'd actually come looking for us? your mom? my mom? god?"

she doesn't wait for an answer. she's already crawling toward the balcony doors, barefoot and glowing with the kind of manic energy that comes from three hours of sleep and a handful of spite.

"i want blood in my mouth and disco in my ears," she stands up and announces, throwing the doors open like she's unveiling a masterpiece. "or at least a club full of ugly rich men we can psychologically destroy." she spins, points at cheorin like she's casting a spell. "finish your drink. fix my eyeliner. we're going to be terrible tonight." a grin. "worse than usual."

[hdnayoung]

(철인 💬 ... @hdcheorin) - u didn't even ask what i'm wearing tonight. rude. - it's criminal actually. i look like a bratz doll who ran away from rehab. - u owe me attention. miss you.

nayoung's halfway through a text to cheorin when naimei grabs her wrist. she's typing like her thumbs are dipped in honey, a little too slow, a little too glossy around the edges all while being dragged.

her dress is honestly barely a dress, silver silk, backless, cut so high on the thigh it might be a legal issue. her perfume is so expensive and overpowering, that it kind that clings to whoever she talks to. she blinks up at naimei, lashes heavy, mouth already twisted into that smug little smile she saves for when she's about to let the night swallow her whole. "innocent?" she echoes all soft sarcasm, slipping her phone back into her purse without hitting send. "babe, this dress has three wardrobe malfunctions built in. i'm basically doing public service at this point."

she stumbles a little in her heels, not enough to fall, just enough to grab naimei's arm and laugh against her shoulder like they're not both emotional hazards with liquor breath and reputations to ruin. "if we end up in someone's yacht again i'm not helping you lie to his girlfriend this time. or worse, his wife. just saying." but she's already stepping forward, pulling naimei with her, eyes glittering like she's got bad ideas tucked into every shimmer of her dress. the hills are watching. the night's young. she's trashed and tragic and terminally bored. perfect conditions.

partyin' in the hollywood hills.

NO EPISODE TITLED, HOLLYWOOD ♥︎ W/ LEE NAYOUNG @hdnayoung

the second the van drops them off and the doors click shut behind them, naimei's already pulling off her hoodie like she's shedding a skin. underneath: a swarovski crystal rhinestone bra, paired with vintage low-rise cargos and boots she smuggled in her duffel under protein bars and concealer. her eyes gleam with that reckless little glint she gets when she's about to make something someone else's problem.

she turns to nayoung with a grin that's all sugar and sin. "you didn't think i was going to let us rot in that villa while half of sunset is drinking from red cups and kissing their exes in guest bathrooms, right?"

the air is thick, a june night buzzing. naimei's already texting the driver (her cousin/friend kinda knows), lips slick with gloss, phone reflecting neon as it lights her face. in the distance, the hollywood hills sign glows faintly gold. like olympus if it were curated by washed-up influencers and sons of producers. "you're not backing out now, right? you promised," she says, reaching for nayoung's wrist with fingers painted glittery gunmetal. "besides, i saw your outfit. don't act innocent... i would've done it a little differently, of course."

[hdnayoung]

nayoung watches miru like she's a science experiment. she's one of those calm, unbothered types who radiate a warm vibe on or off camera, like it's something they can just flick on with a switch. it's not that nayoung dislikes her, not exactly. she just can't fucking read her yet, and that's what bothers her most. there's no tells, no cracks in the mirror. it's all clean lines and even tone and the kind of composure that makes nayoung's skin itch.

she listens to the chorus with a tilted head, arms crossed loosely like she's trying not to look too interested. the song is good, she'll give miru that. stupidly catchy. like walking down a hallway in heels you can't take off. it clings to you.

"you’re hitting it a little safe," she says finally, voice smooth, almost bored, but her eyes flicker with excitement. "it's cute. but we don't need cute right now. we need unforgettable." she stretches out the last word like gum, lets it snap just before she hums a bar herself, slightly off-tempo on purpose. playing. teasing. "what if you tried it a little breathier? like… you're letting someone in on a secret."

her expression doesn't change much. just that usual half-lidded cool, a glossed-over kind of look, but she's watching closely now. testing. not to lead, not yet. just to see how miru takes being poked at. they've all got something to prove, after all. and nayoung wants to know how deep miru's calm actually runs.

honestly, miru's not too sure how to take nayoung's words. she can never tell how genuine the other is being, but she's also aware of all the cameras around them and how fans will want to see the girls look like actual teamworks, so she swallows a couple of words that creep up her throat.

"i think it's a really solid debut song." this much is very much the truth. as soon as she heard attention, miru was pretty sold. it seemed like a song that was hard to dislike, and it captured exactly what the girls needed to show off. "it's refreshing but also super catchy. i think it fits us all really well."

upon being appointed the leader, miru's felt the need to be even more calm and collected than she has been. it would've been more comfortable if she wasn't given this position but since she has, she didn't want to slack off. she had to appear as an example, and that's why she wanted to try rehearsing the song with each of the girls at least once.

"all right, let's give it a go." looking up from her lyric sheet, she tries her best to meet eyes with nayoung and begins to sing the chorus. for now, she's just trying to get the melody and rhythm correct. other stylistic choices can be made later, and the line distribution is always up for change anyway. getting familiar with the song was most important.

[hdnayoung]

nayoung smooths down the hem of her sweatshirt like it's an excuse not to look up right away. her nails are still perfect, fresh from the hidden-away korean salon she found discreetly five minutes after landing in la. she knows what she looks like right now, effortless, camera-ready, cool without trying. she also knows how miru's watching her. too politely. like she's trying not to flinch. "sure," she says, light as perfume. then she lifts her gaze, slow and easy, a practiced kind of pretty. not real. "we can do that."

there's a pause. not quite awkward. she stretches it then nayoung tilts her head a fraction. her voice stays sweet, but a little bored. "you like the track, right? it's… very global. catchy." she sways a little in her seat, toe tapping silently against the tile. "you so sound clean on it. very precise. prior training, right?”

another almost-smile. not unkind, but not warm either. "i'll try not to ruin your blend." it’s a joke. kind of. she hopes miru hears it that way. because she’s not here to get scolded in some producer's meeting for attitude. not with cameras around. not with the leader watching. not yet. she wants to push miru, see if she can break. "count us in, then."

𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, @hdnayoung

while miru tried her best to get along with the other trainees as she never knew who she could debut with, it wasn't always possible. nayoung fell into that category of people she could tolerate but couldn't see herself really befriending. unfortunately, it looks like miru doesn't have much of a choice anymore with both of them being chosen for this upcoming debut.

nevertheless, miru was going to make it work out, especially with her being appointed the leader. the last thing she needed was word of the potential members not getting along slipping into the ears of a higher up.

upon arriving in los angeles, the girls had been thrown into an intense cycle of training. it's something that was expected, and miru was actually quite enjoying what seemed like a debut bootcamp. of course, it also came with a lot of work, but that's exactly what she had been preparing herself for.

they had been handed the songs, and miru had to say that she really enjoyed their title track. it was fresh and something that everybody could enjoy. she had been working on the lines with nayoung as they both sat in the vocal room, going over the song together. "did you want to try singing the chorus together? we're going to have to match up our styles and everything eventually, so it'd be nice to hear what we sound like right now."

[hdnayoung]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[hdnayoung]

@hdrookies instagram update !

question… if you could go somewhere right now, where would that place be??

[hdnayoung]

she watches junmyeon approach like one might watch a cat strut across a table full of glass: mild interest, zero concern, and a vague expectation that something might break, though probably not hers. on the other hand she's curled up on one of the sun loungers in a silk set that looks like sleepwear but costs more than most people's phones.

she barely glances up when he passes.

staff hover like nervous satellites, trying not to breathe too loud around them. she notices. of course she does. "staff are orbiting the pool like it's sentient," she says, voice as airy as the clouds behind her sunglasses. "cute. it probably pays their rent... but if you're going to sulk, at least do it somewhere photogenic. the pool isn't your best light."

he's simply making his way through, deciding that he wanted to sit by the pool. at least, just for a little bit. he's not paying much attention to anything around him, really; the kind of thing that junmyeon usually did. he just stayed in his business, never one to fully pay attention to what other people are doing. perhaps, it was always better that one; though, it probably just played up that mysterious, prince vibe he had going on. but, he wasn't sure he necessarily cared so much about how he was perceived.

just as he's on his way, a voice peaks up in his ears. making him stop where he was going. a sigh leaves his lips upon hearing the words, some kind of designer pair of sunglasses being pushed up from his eyes to the top of his head now. "seriously?" he says, before turning from where he was faced. "i just wanted some down time by the pool before doing more practice," he says. "but, i guess that's out the window, eh?" he states, before taking the towel from his shoulder and folding it back up; pristine and clean.

[hdnayoung]

xoxo, @hdcarmine

nayoung looks up from her phone, sunglasses still on indoors, and watches him with that bored kind of interest she saves for things she already knows she'll like. he's pretty. pretty enough to be dangerous. the kind of boy who knows which side is his best, who probably grew up in a penthouse with a private tutor and a housekeeper who called him 'sir' before he hit puberty.

she doesn't say anything. she never does, not first. but her gaze lingers. she likes boys like this, all boys, really; pretty boys, rich boys, smart boys, dumb boys. she crosses one leg over the other and lets her phone drop to the seat beside her. "i wouldn't go that way," she says, dry, she's only half-interested. "super awkward. the staff are hovering by the outdoor and pool like their lives depend on it. honestly? it does."

[hdnayoung]

WICKED (2024), dir. Jon M. Chu

[hdnayoung]

nayoung doesn't look at chaeyeon. just stays there, curled into herself like the wind might knock her over if she lets it. her eyes are rimmed red, lashes damp, but she blinks slow like nothing's wrong. like maybe if she keeps staring at the skyline hard enough, she'll forget she was ever crying at all.

"i don't like crowns." she says. not cold, just... worn. "they're heavy. and they fall off when people start watching too closely."

her sleeve twitches where she wiped her face before chaeyeon showed up. she hates that she's here. hates how bubbly chaeyeon is. hates that she saw any of it. "you know, you always show up where people don't want you," she mutters. still not looking. "why are you like that..." she scoffs, and shifts just enough to put a little distance between them. she's protective. of the silence, of whatever this was before chaeyeon filled it with her bright eyed commentary and paper cup and thousand unspoken things.

𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 —

written for 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 ( @hdnayoung ) ♡

The hallway lights are dim, maybe someone's already started shutting off the power on the trainee floors. Everyone's either packing or pretending to sleep in their dorm beds. Chaeyeon isn't doing any of those.

She has bubblegum in her mouth and a hoodie pulled over her head as she climbs the metal stairs to the rooftop. The air is cold, the kind that bites your cheeks just enough to remind you you're alive. And there she is. Nayoung. Already up here. Of course. 'You always look like you belong in a music video,' Chaeyeon thinks. 'The wind hits just right on you. That whole silent-swan posture. Like if someone had a good camera, they'd catch a whole mood in a single still frame. Ugh, I totally wanna' be her!'

But Chaeyeon doesn't have a camera tonight. Just a paper coffee cup she hasn't finished and a thousand words pushing into the back of her throat. She sits down next to Nayoung, legs pulled up to her chest. "I thought maybe I'd be alone up here.” A pause. Then a laugh, small, breathy. "But then again, of course you'd be the type to watch the city one last time. Like, 'farewell, Seoul. I'll return with a crown.'"

[hdnayoung]

nayoung doesn't react, not outwardly. her expression remains pretty cool, practiced. she watches nari's reflection glide past in the mirror, the faintest twitch in her jaw the only betrayal. but inside? oh, she's seething. not because nari landed a hit, nayoung can handle a jab. it's because it was clean. quiet. like a needle through silk.

she exhales, slow and silent, then turns back to the mirror, adjusting the dress with a flick of her wrist. it still clings like it was made for her. still turns heads. still does exactly what it needs to do. nari can pretend she's above the game all she wants, but she still plays it.

"you know," she says, voice light, "if I wanted a sermon on subtlety, i'd have called my etiquette tutor from geneva."

she steps back into the dressing room, unzipping the dress with the same careful touch she uses to handle vintage perfume bottles. as she folds the silk over the hanger, she smiles faintly. it's not the kind of smile you wear when you lose. it's the kind you wear when the game's only just begun.

"but i suppose you make a compelling case," she adds. "for someone who's always insisted she doesn't care, you've got remarkably good taste in proving me wrong.” a beat passes. then two. and nayoung, ever the tactician, tilts her head, tone shifting.

"lunch?" she offers. like it's an afterthought. like this hasn't been foreplay for exactly this, another round, another game. "i'm starving. watching people try too hard always works up my appetite."

Nari doesn't blink. Doesn’t shift. She simply lifts her chin and offers a smile - thin, elegant, untouched by effort. The kind of smile that says thank you for confirming exactly what I thought.

There she goes again, Nari muses. The performance. The silk. The show of power dressed up as disinterest. Classic Nayoung. Always first to arrive at the scene, just never first to leave an impression.

"Desperate?" she repeats, voice silkier than the dress, with the faintest lift of an eyebrow. "Nayoung, if I ever looked desperate, I'd have you to thank for the template." She glides forward, pausing by the mirror to adjust her hair with the tip of a manicured finger. "You wear it well," she adds, eyes lingering just long enough to cut. "But I suppose anything can look expensive when no one’s looking too closely."

She doesn’t need to look directly at Nayoung to read her. She's known her long enough to predict every smile, every breathy laugh sharpened to a blade. We grew up in the same warzone, Nari thinks, we just learned to weaponize different things.

Then, a soft exhale. Controlled. Unbothered. "You can keep the dress. Consider it my good deed for the day." She turns on her heel, her walk smooth, deliberate - a woman who’s never chased a thing in her life. And as she passes the salesgirl, she offers a quiet aside:

"Can you please send the Margiela in navy to my place? The silk can stay here. It’s already had its moment."

[hdnayoung]

'nari thinks she's slick,' nayoung thought, 'acting like this is her game, like she didn't grow up snapping selfies in knockoff galleria bags while the rest of us were getting fitted in paris.' she doesn't even blink when she gestures at that dress. nayoung just smiles, slow and sharp, like a knife that knows exactly what it's slicing.

"that one?" nayoung say, feigning interest like she's not already bored. "hmm. little obvious, isn't it?" she trails a finger along the silk anyway, not because she wants it, but because she could want it. and that’s what matters. she knows that. everyone here knows that.

the salesgirl's practically holding her breath.

nayoung steps into the dressing room without another word anyway, because silence is louder when you have the upper hand. the dress slips on like second skin. it's stunning. of course it is. she looks like money wrapped in a whisper. she steps out, lazy, poised, deliberate.

"cute," she says, tilting my head. "but i'll let you have it. feels a little desperate, no?"

nayoung doesn't even look at her. she just tosses her hair over her shoulder and pretend she didn't just win. because winners don't gloat. they glide.

you can always tell who's trying too hard. and nari? she's trying.

pookie.

SHOPPING RETREAT, SEOUL MALL ♥︎ W/ LEE NAYOUNG @hdnayoung

The boutique's staff stood straighter the moment their heels clicked against the marble like a ticking clock, eyes flitting to Nari's designer coat, Nayoung's posture. Nari personally walked all languid confidence and subtle rebellion in a cropped Margiela jacket and sneakers that hadn’t been released in Korea yet.

The boutique was new. Parisian. Minimalist gold racks and blush-toned mirrors. It catered to Seoul's elite, the kind who didn't ask for prices and didn't speak unless spoken to. "Try that one," Nari said, barely glancing at a bias-cut silk dress on display. It shimmered under the spotlights, pale and precise, one-of-a-kind, just like everything Nayoung claimed before anyone else could.

It's a test.

It wasn't jealousy. It was something else. Something much older. The unspoken battle of girls who were raised to be the best and taught that there could only be one. Nayoung was old money, but Nari didn't flinch.

[hdnayoung]

hello, loveliessss this is su (she/her & gmt+1 🇵🇹) and nayoung is your resident rich heiress, princess of petty, mean comments, and idol trainee. i'm very excited but also very nervous becus i haven’t roleplayed in literal years but i have nayoung who is kind of the the 👿 devil sitting on my shoulder. she's full of drama, and get ready cause she will purposefully step on toes. here are some links: points / profile / pinterest, and plenty more of my mad rambles found below.

nayoung grows up in fucking ridiculously rich in london, england becus she's a chaebol her father runs a global empire or smth, and her mother is a former model turned fashion consultant (. . .), so she's surrounded by designer this and top of the line that and very little genuine affection.

she gets scouted more for her "presence" and name than any actual idol skills, much to the probable annoyance of other trainees. she will work on it... slowly... maybe.... not... when she feels like it! if she complains, its in english, korean, and the occasional eye roll.

tokyo at sixteen? veen there, done that, she moved to tokyo alone at 16 for modeling gigs.

now nayoung doesn’t have to be @ hydra. she chooses to be, mostly because shes very bored, yacht parties are lame, and wants to prove she can actually do something before she turns into a permanent tabloid headline. spoiler: she's still figuring it out.

nayoung has an unexpected soft spot for vintage wuxia films. she'll passionately rank chungking express, ashes of time, and crouching tiger, hidden dragon over dim sum like it’s a TED Talk.

an obsession for luxury brands, private events, and the finer things in life. if you smell expensive perfume and hear classical music drifting down the hallway, it's probably her. or one of her hundred candles.

her demeanor comes off very cold or detached, but if you get past the frosty exterior (and the twenty layers of moisturizer), she's surprisingly chill i swear, in a "I won't hug you but i'll buy you coffee and tell you to get over it" kind of way.

what i call nayoung style is lending you her moisturizer, and thats when you're basically family. if she spoke to in her aromatherapy misted room, you're in her will.

when she's really annoyed, she has a rotation: english for sarcasm, korean for sass, and a few choice mandarin phrases she picked up just to be passive-aggressive.

nayoung has two older brothers who used to spoil her rotten and now insist she "builds character" by surviving idol training. She hates it, thanks them for it daily (sarcastically), and secretly misses their chaos.

while she definitely carries herself like a chaebol, her heart leans chaotic good. she’ll roast you and help you fix your eyeliner. maybe even in the same breath.

PLOTS:

trainee "rivals" who side-eye her for being rich and "undeserving"? give it to me.

frenemies with someone who challenges her to actually work harder. she likes to pretend she doesn't listen to your advices, a mentorship/friendship where someone teaches her actual human skills and she "pays" them in overpriced coffee runs.

ex-friends from her influencer days who knew her before she decided to pursue idol life. awkward as hell but let's go.

clueless flirting. she's honestly just being her heavily detached self, but someone thinks it means more. oh no thats not-

[hdnayoung]

Clueless (1995) dir. Amy Heckerling

[hdnayoung]

😼😼😼😼