hebijeeb

[hebijeeb]

jaehoxn​:

“i don’t plan the event,” jaehoon says with a snort, watching as rieon stumble over the seating, a bubble of laughter erupting from his chest. “and it’s a bit tacky to get this wasted at industry events, do you know?” rumors spread like wildfire at every event, but one filled with celebrities and leeches it’s hard not for one drunken night to leave a stain in your own reputation. believe jaehoon he had seen celebrities fall for much less.

then again rieon didn’t have to worry about, she didn’t have to worry about much. settled comfortably in a bubble of privilege and wealth, and little ambition.  

but he can’t deny that the woman at his side was not alluring. doe eyes and general carelessness, if he wasn’t aware of her faults, she would have been a muse that haunted his dreams.

unfortunately, for jaehoon’s songs, he’s all too aware of the mood swings and the violent tendencies which did little for love songs of lovers passed.

“now, is that any way to talk to your savior? i took the time to give you a vvip room, when i could have been feeling up that model,” he huffs, crossing his arms as he leans against the door watching the woman fumble with her shoes. “be a bit nicer to me. one day i might say no.”

probably not. jaehoon craved chaos, and rieon purely supplied that.

dark eyes follow her movements, watching as her dress goes higher — revealing the pale skin of her upper thigh.

he dives into the chaos.

nimble fingers pull the heel off, his movements slow as he reaches the other one, he looks up at the woman, catching her eyes  “you’re racking up these favors rieon, how are you going to pay up?” jaehoon questions, as he begins to toy with the strap of her shoe.

she’s spent a lifetime and then some stroking the egos of men. indisputably a skilled trade when it came to the residents of cheongdam. kang rieon has, since the days of youth, perfected the act of kissing up to men and women alike. has since then donned the skins of damsel demure, damsel disarming, and damsel delicate; tailor fit over her monster flesh, rotted insides and hungry mouth. 

tonight, this very hour and very minute, it’s no different. min jaehoon, at the end of the day, is no different.

“so? your name’s on it.” she snaps back quick, head leaned back against the plush cushion. “oh, like anyone would tell—it’s ndas out the ass out there.” they have an image to protect, after all, rieon herself is no different—excluding the wayward tendencies to throw all caution to the wind and worry about it later. 

what’s the worst that could happen that couldn’t be bought off in one way or another? nothing.

even so, considering the few outbursts that she’s already spotted here and there tonight, maybe it’s better than she’s in here rather than out there. though, whether or not jaehoon had been a good idea to bring with is still up in the air.

“what model?” she blinks slow, doe eyes staring at him inquisitively. had he been talking to someone at the time, she sure didn’t pay attention to them. rather on brand, honestly. “and? you think you’re the only one on my list of white knights or something?” 

even so, knowing what it is the likes of men feed on doesn’t mean she’s all too eager to give into it, at least with min jaehoon—sick bastards who are more or less in it for hte fight (she’d know, she’s one of them)—it’s better to take it slow. bide her time, if you will. 

nevertheless, the sight of him at her service is one she’d likely never tire of. 

“well, what do you want?” the pink of her tongue flicks out to wet her lip, followed short by the slow rake of her teeth as she considers her options; the next step, the interesting shift in tone here. what she is or isn’t willing to do. thighs shifting, rieon’s slow to uncross her legs, lifting after to press the sole of her bare foot against his chest, giving him a nudge back.

                                                                                                  nah. still not drunk enough.

“let’s get a bottle. i’ll personally pour you a glass.”

[hebijeeb]

[hebijeeb]

jaehoxn​:

jaehoon may yell loudly about the lack of artistic integrity within the music industry — may complain that idols have stolen every sense of limelight that’s available within the country. he may complain that their dull and finely tuned voices don’t stir hearts but it does not meant he is displeased with his family’s company.

quite the opposite, no, instead as the eldest son of the min family — he quite enjoyed attending the parties and events, you know what they said about desperation, and those who wanted fame tended to be the most amusing. ( ignoring the fact min jaehoon was more preoccupied with his own fame that was handed down to him as easily as an old sweatshirt.) regardless, the high of all eyes on him, the way they rushed to his side with shallow compliments and praise, was better than most drugs.

and what else did jaehoon love beside entertaining. he has been bred to do so, raised by the man who created groups that stole the nation’s heart, one of the best compsors that came out of the country. there was very little that jaehoon felt more comfortable at, than wining and dinning with party guests.

it helped that no one seemed to leave him with an empty glass.

speaking of party guest. tthe last he heard from rieon was well, nothing, beside the unread messages and dropped phone calls, the musician assumed that even if she was attending, he would not have to deal with..her dramatics.

but the younger woman always had a habit of slipping through the cracks and doing the least expected. 

jaehoon hums, leaning closer to one of the models that were stationed near the bar,“yeah, we have like an album coming up, i can take you to the studio so—” 

the familiar scent of perfume passes by, and the man groans, as slender fingers wrap around him. the warmth of rieon doing nothing to incite jaehoon to forget of their last interaction. no matter how dolled up and glittery she seems, she nearly knocked his teeth out the last time they’ve spoken. 

“rieo—” the scolding his lips is stalled, his attention drawn away from the model and towards his fiancee for the first time at the words leaving her. jaehoon isn’t too ashamed to admit, he liked being needed, especially by a woman who usually hated his guts to admit anything akin to help “a room? i can do that for us.”

jaehoon could only give a sheepish smile to the model he was speaking to before he begins to lead rieon to one of the empty vip rooms the venue had helpfully  rented out for the min family. it’s only then that he peels himself away from the other, “how much of the free booze did you drink? or is someone selling?” the musician questions, as he throws the jacket he was wearing haphazardly on the ground, his eyes turning towards rieon once more.”or can the poor baby not wear heels anymore?” his voice is mockingly sweet, poking at her with faux concern, “you had to be desperate to come to me.”

translation for those who don’t speak pretentious asshole:  you owe me one.

no matter how she looks at it, it’s min jaehoon’s fault that she’s here. it’s his fault that she has to spend the better part of her weekend “partying” with a motley crew of self absorbed goody-two-shoes (not even the fun) kind. it’s his fault that she had to resort to flirted and twirled her way into having drinks ordered for her to escape the eagle eyes of the bod bartender. so for her to so brazenly steal him from the public, well, it’s well deserved.

still, rieon wishes he would shut up for once in his life.

the trip to the room was fairly quick, given, in her state time passes by simultaneously fast and slow. but rieon doesn’t put much thought into it, so long as she’s free from watchful eyes and calculative smiles. in front of jaehoon, at least, who already knew that she was neurotic, there’s no need to pretend.

“oh i wish,” rieon sighs out, stumbling her way toward the leather banquette. “what kinda networking party has no complimentary candy and a drink limit” she settles in with a quiet oof, twisting around till she’s comfortable, eyes fixed on her would be fiancé. heh. to think a week or two ago, she had been hurling glassware at his head like he’s the last person on earth she’d ever want to be stuck with.

funny how things turn out. even funnier now, thoroughly inebriated, that jaehoon actually seems bearable.

“shut up.” she huffs around her indignation, leaning over to fumble with the straps of her manolos, giving up just as quick given the state of her nails. figures, if she can’t even put them on sober, why would she be able to take them off now? instead, her eyes flick back up to the host of the party, min jaehoon in his douchebag glory. min jaehoon, who, just until ten minutes ago, she thought had little weakness.

but it’s unsurprising that an ego like his would be easily placated by the siren call of a pretty damsel. and rieon is just drunk enough to play into his little game. why not? if all it takes is a bit of ‘please’ to have him eating out of her hands.

“hey,” coy, her legs shift to cross one over another, hem of her dress rising up centimeters as she lifts a leg, foot pointed in his direction and prettily disarming smile rightfully in place. 

“help me?”

[hebijeeb]

@DORIME WHO died?

[hebijeeb]

at 8:22 her skin begins to crawl.

there’s something about being trapped in a club function filled to the brim of the opulent that rubs her the wrong way. something that’s particularly business-like in a place designed to let loose that makes her stomach turn. as far as she’s ever been concerned, business never did mix too well with pleasure. and the rich and pretty, idols and actors and their sponsors alike, never seem to want to go too far.

but nevertheless, min jaehoon’s event meant that she was obligated (by who? i’ll let you guess) to show up, to socialize and take selfies that’ll never make it onto anybody’s public instagrams. idols, i tell you, there’s just no fun in playing with any of them if it meant she had to keep it a secret.

still, there’s such a thing as saving graces in places like this. namely, a 173cm and suspiciously well(?) dressed puppy dog that always seems to find her in events like these. noh junsu, a savior in each and every way, but tonight especially in the way he cuts in with an offer to leave the pair attempting to sweet-talk their way into a discount for filming on location at one of the hotels.

so she’s quick to bid the two goodbye, arm linking with junsu’s as they steer away from their direction. “you know just the right time to swoop in and save me-” rieon sports a cheery grin, one that quickly fades once she notes his ensemble. “what is this, by the way?” her hand reaches out, fingers furling around the fabric to give a sharp tug. “you look like the help.” disdain easily lilts her tone, and rieon doesn’t bother for permission before moving to loosen the knot, skilled fingers working to unravel the tie entirely. from there, she simply wraps the cloth around her hand and moves to pop the first three buttons of his dress shirt, moving onto roll up his sleeves after; all the while voicing her concerns.

“who dressed you—your dad? this isn’t a funeral reception.” she clicks her tongue, "it’s not like you’re ugly, i don’t know why you have to keep dressing like every night’s friday night mass—i swear, i would’ve mistaken you for a server if you didn’t come by.” rieon takes a step back to check her handiwork, chewing on her lower lip in thought. 

and decidedly so, she doesn’t like it. 

“mm, nah—take off the coat too.”

w/ @hebijeeb​

it’s only 8:20. he already wants to go home.

big gatherings like these are never fun when all the same people are always involved. it’s the same greetings, same questions that come from family friends (found any nice girls lately? no, all i want to do is go home and sleep.) they all think he’s funny because he never gets the last word, nor many words at all. it leaves junsu with only a few moments to think of something cheeky to respond with, because nobody here gives two shits about whether or not noh junsu actually showed up.

being the youngest makes him the most talked over, the most pushed aside, easily the most forgotten. a double-edged sword, however, it gives junsu the advantage of being able to slip away as soon as greetings and small talk have been met; the boy could make a living disappearing from cordial conversation if only people would take the time to notice.

he turns his back on the elderly couple his parents had been ringed into a compelling conversation with about the current exorbitant prices of shipping squid to and from the united states to immediately pull at his tie his father had choking him since they’d left the house. it made him look too formal, too dressed up, too out of himself. come to think of it, his shoes were a little too small, hyper-fixating on how the toe caps was pressing down against his toenails despite being custom tailed for him specifically. everybody else around him looked relaxed and in the moment — was there something he was missing here?

junsu hadn’t even noticed how down turned his expression had been until he looks up from his phone after some time of mindlessly scrolling tiktok in an attempt to avoid making small talk with other family friends. it’s kang rieon, of course — who he settles his gaze on, lets his cheeks burn bright red for some time to burn off the nerves and enhanced heart beat he feels beginning to pound through his chest. 

it happens every time. god, what are you nervous about? go talk to her, he tells himself. a girl he’s known for years and still gets choked up about — typical. junsu’s feet stay rooted to where he is, hidden just enough behind his father that he can see rieon making her own rounds between guests; he holds his breath as he sees her get closer. not wanting to embarrass himself in front of his parents, he swallows nervously before weaving through the crowd to gently put his hand on her shoulder.

“noona,” he tries to be cool and casual with his greeting, tries his best to look like the world’s best when he smiles and bows to her parents. it’s all a facade, because his heart is nearly beating out of his chest with how beautiful she’s looking and having such little proximity between them. “rieon noona,” he repeats again, his mind reeling and sputtering like an engine that hadn’t been used in years. “i actually just ordered something at the bar. you wanna come get a drink with me?”

[hebijeeb]

                                   I AM NO MORE A FIXED POINT THAN LOVE ━━

     she’s known for being like this. this, meaning erratic, meaning high upon high upon high before any real lows. she had always been high strung, had always felt things at a vivid 100. our kang rieon, however renowned for her ire and eerily precise aim, has always been like sensitive; easily overwhelmed. has always felt so much that she feels raw to the touch. add alcohol into the mix? game over. 

     so tonight, tonight she’s not any better. tonight she’s free, or some semblance of it, free from the watchful eyes of her parents (who’ve never attend these sorts of things anyhow), and after a painful hour or so of brown nosing, free from the occasional wandering hand that settled centimeters too low on the small of her back. but that’s not new either, is it? the crown jewel, kang conglomerate’s pretty daughter is meant to be admired, plucked off the shelf and rolled around in one’s palm like a commemorative plaque. 

     seen, felt, but not to be played with. why else was she expected to tag along on golf trips with prospective business partners?

     but this too, rieon has known to be part of her ‘usefulness’. as the role she’s set to play. role indicated only by the lack of meat hanging between her legs—the undisputed role she’s been slacked with since birth—the daughter, the prized cow, sweet like honey with a winning smile and an endearing disposition that’s easy to love.

     dad doesn’t give a shit about anything else beyond that.      hasn’t then. won’t now.

     tonight, even without his presence—she braves hell to play her role like the filial daughter she’s expected to be. and purgatory, though dressed in luxurious decor and armed with enough liquor to fill five swimming pools, is still as unpleasant as she remembers. is still the same shared smiles and tinny laughs and wandering hands and selfies and come and go highballs. still the same battleground rieon braves with her honeyed tongue, battered hubris, decaying heart, and claws her way through moving bodies to breathe for the first time all night. 

     and as expected, she is still the same. nails itching at her wrist as if to placate the writhing underneath her skin, an unease that settles the longer she stays. the longer the night drags on, the more it wears on her patience. how is it a party when she knows no one here? when she’s done more schmoozing than actually drinking with her own friends. when her entire night has been wasted on men and women twice her age. social obligations are such a fucking chore. unlucky her, however, as the only solution to the problem (a quick escape from this hellscape) lies in the hands of someone she wasn’t on speaking terms with.

     but, drunk as she is now, rieon doesn’t really give a shit what min jaehoon thought. and so, whereas she was hesitant prior into the night—the move to approach now came together far more seamlessly than predicted. especially since he wasn’t alone to start. 

     “hey,” she slurs her greeting, reaching out to wrap lithe fingers around his forearm; as if to anchor jaehoon’s presence to hers. she doesn’t recognize his companion, doesn’t give much care to, doesn’t even bother to spare a glance. instead, her eyes (pupils blown and somewhat glazed) fix squarely on @jaehoxn. right now, she honestly can’t think of anything else beyond how badly she wants to get off her feet. but it doesn’t mean she’ll beg. “let’s get a room.”

     read: get me a room.

━━ ALL NIGHT IN BED I AM UNRAVELING 

[hebijeeb]

[hebijeeb]

jaehoxn​:

Watch out It’s looking like there’s not enough to go around

the min family liked to think they didn’t raise liars, that authenticity should have been a priority, after all, they were people of the arts. but sadly — the prioritization of fame and the continuous need for profit had made the next generation fall too easily into twisting the truth. so should jaehoon feel bad for tricking his parents as well as kangs? was it really a trick if they were happy with the falsehood?

of course not, jaehoon family had raised him to put on a good show. how could he disappoint them with a bland performance?

so he plays the part well, the humble and bashful son-in-law, the only thing in his mind is filial piety. how jaehoon mentions wanting to move into a bigger apartment after the wedding, laughing when the older adults hint at grandchildren. “well, i wouldn’t mind them after my career settles down, as well as rieon’s schooling is done, but who knows.” if jaehoon’s lucky there will never be a wedding, but what’s the harm indulging their fantasies. “ a boy and a girl would be nice though, wouldn’t it?”

unfortunately, his co-star in this extended play is well — difficult to say the least. the harsh smack on his hand is nothing new. but jaehoon still grimaces as he pulls away from his supposed fiancee, rieon always had a habit of letting her emotions get the best of her, her skin too thin to take much of anything.

after almost a decade of knowing the supposed princess of the kangs, well jaehoon knew how to deal with her outbursts. her therapist her daddy paid for was obviously not good enough. taking a step away from rieon, he begins to walk back towards the kitchen. half heartily waving her off as she screamed, god someone fucking sedate her. “be quiet, they can probably still hear you, all my hard work will be ruined if they hear you screaming like a banshee, god.”

the band member picks up his forgotten wine glass, taking a sip before glancing back at rieon. “if i can leave some notes, you should play a long a bit better, you were stiff towards the middle of dinner, that should be improved upon next time.”

     how should she put it? min jaehoon tests her patience. her humanity. the thin, thin line that humans (human? beast clad in girl skin, maybe) shouldn’t cross. the line that her therapist reminds her on the constant to mind—you know, the one that stands between her and incarceration. but we’ve mentioned before that if there’s anything he’s great at, it’s making mundane snore music and pushing her buttons. it’s the act of brushing her off: roll of his eyes, shrug of his shoulders, scoff on his lips. how it resembles the negligent and frigid father in her life. how it he drives her up the wall.

     MIND THE LINE. ‘be quiet, they can probably still hear you—’ MIND THE LINE. ‘all my hard work [...] screaming like a banshee, god...’ MIND. THE. LINE.

     “WOW. WOOOOOOOW—I REALLY CAN’T FUCKING STAND YOU—” head pounding, the oncoming headache is imminent with how hard she’s been clenching her jaw since dinner. par for course, rieon doesn’t lower her volume. hasn’t ever been one to do as told, especially not to men who greatly resembled the father shaped hole in her life. good fucking riddance if his parents really did hear—because the longer she spends with min jaehoon the more she’s regrets ever getting into this anyhow. 

     but as it was—AS. IT. WAS.—she’s two years too late to back out of anything. and should jaehoon choose to flip the script on her now (seriously, two kids? boy and a girl?) she’s screwed. absolutely screwed. trapped in some sort of loveless marriage based on merits just like mom and dad screwed. 

     which would leave the alternative being what? if they staged a break up? if they waited things out? if she killed him? wait, let’s go back to that last one.

     “notes?” tone easily mimicking the disbelief spelled across her face, cheeks flushed in indignation. NOTES?NOTES?NOTES?NOTES?! “NOTES???” she’s reacting before she can even help herself, fingers curling around the thin stem of a forgotten wine glass off the counter that just as quickly leaves her grasp, shattering against the backsplash right beside his head. just as quick, she realizes, she’s not really minding the line after all.

                                                                                    still, little too late to back down now. 

     “GOD, FUCK YOUR NOTES—WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?”

[hebijeeb]

     she and min jaehoon have nothing in common. in her lifetime, rieon supposes she hasn’t met anyone more opposite of her than 2m ent’s bastard crown prince. so much so that every fiber of her being physically repulses at the thought of him, or rather, even as names spoken in conjunction. and whereas her therapist would claim that all this and more had something to do with the pressure from evil overlord kang (that’s dad, for those of you just now checking in) and that she more or less villainizes any and all suitors endorsed by dad, rieon would argue otherwise. 

     min jaehoon, to his core, is repugnant. vile and irredeemable and had not for the fact that they stood on the same side of this engagement—the stalling-for-time-while-living-life-as-they-both-wanted side—would’ve been kicked to the curb within the first couple of weeks of their parents pushing this agenda. 

     but he had promised her freedom, promised he didn’t give a fuck about whatever it was she did; date, don’t date, it’s not his concern. and for a while, for a long while, she was fine with that. they both were.

     but—what the fuck is this really?

     as it were, our glorified crown jewel and bastard prince stand side by side, @jaehoxn’s arm wrapped snug around her waist like its meant to be there as they bid goodbye to his parents after somewhat of a turbulent dinner. ish. if you count the bit where she stopped listening after they mentioned something along the lines of being grandparents. and that fucker sitting next to her had the gall to egg it on.

     nevertheless, they had a deal. they had a deal so rieon is careful to keep that sweetheart smile plastered on her face right up until the moment the door shuts. then, she’s quick to slap his hand off her. “really? REALLY? grandkids? when the fuck did we start entertaining the grandkids talk when HELLO?! the plan has ALWAYS to been just to stall—YAH!!” she shrieks, voice shrill and indignant vibrant on her face. one more thing she’s never been able to stand about min jaehoon? he knew exactly how to set her off.

     “DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU ASSHOLE”

[hebijeeb]

“It is a fact that I don’t get enough love, I never did get enough love,”

— Nina Simone, from an interview conducted c. December 1986

[hebijeeb]

     she had always considered herself as someone with high tolerance. though, to be fair, it hadn’t been so much of a skill inherited as it was a skill earned. a skill forged over years of exuberant youth and some kind of subconscious (hah, subconscious) attention seeking. kang rieon, who had spent the better part of her late teen years poisoning the liver as diligently as the mind; all diligent attempts to match the heart. i mean, why the fuck not go for the full set right?

     so to say she had the tolerance of your average korean office worker wouldn’t be too far off. and, if she’s honest, it’s something she’s rather proud of. you know, the art of drinking a handful of your friends under the table is bound to come handy sooner or later.

     though, one’s proficient tolerance for the devil’s liquors matters little when she had shit tolerance for the devil himself. read: dad in his impeccable zegna suit with clipped words and a smile that hasn’t reached his eyes since she was ten. and whereas rieon had initially thought a shot or three here and there would’ve done better for her nerves throughout the admittedly short 30 minute commute from the kang estate to k palace, it certainly wasn’t the case fifteen minutes in, where, situated in a frigid environment where dad is almost always uninterested (save the occasional question regarding her fiance to be), wears on her nerves more than anything.

     so who’s to blame when she stumbles out of the car and detaches from the crowd to find the nearest open yet concealed space? for the bile pooling at the back of her tongue and saliva filling her mouth? for how laughably piffling it feels, to not even warrant a second glance without a prospective spouse by her side. oh, plight of the neglected daughter. woe is she, unfortunate is she, pitiful even—had rieon not chosen to redirect her hurt and ire in the worst ways possible.

                                                                                                            but! more on that later. 

     for the time being, hurricane rieon more so fixated on keeping her “meal” down—throwing up on her new pumps didn’t seem all too ideal. not to mention the fact that, despite herself, she cries—she almost always cries when throwing up (who wouldn’t?). and fuck, she didn’t bring anything to touch up her face with in that tiny bag of hers. but how does one cure nausea anyway? especially when one is also trying to avoid the watchful eyes of any hotel staff and/or respectable guests. being caught throwing up here wasn’t exactly flattering for the family reputation—something dad values more than his children. 

     somehow, she had convinced herself that smelling something more pleasant than dad’s cologne would help. which, eventually snowballs into her hunched behind a rose bush, inhaling long and deep. don’t puke. don’t. puke. don’t do it. don’t you— 

     then: ‘rieon—what—you doing out here?’

     finally! salvation in the next best thing to a father figure (jokes, that’s hwanhee isn’t it? but she’ll take what she can get) and rieon is quick to redirect watery eyes to her older brother, reaching out a small helpless hand. “oppa—i don’t feel so good.” she exhales, breath shaky and stomach lurching. 

oh no. oh no. 

6:36pm w/ @hebijeeb

the night has barely begun and yet here taehyun is, 2 vodka tonics in with a fake smile plastered onto his face and his fingers itching for a cigarette. there were too many fake niceties being thrown around for his liking, too many people acting like they genuinely cared to hear about how so and so’s niece was doing at school or how their dog was after it’s emergency surgery or if all was well at the fancy business they were in or-

he needs to get outside. needs to breathe fresh air into his lungs only to have it chased by a drag from his cigarette followed by a swig of a new drink from the bar. taehyun needed to pace himself, keep reminding himself that there is still so much left to the evening and that he can’t let himself get plastered. not yet, at least. he has people to charm. hands to shake, bad jokes to laugh at, kissing babies, all that. 

that’s the thing about having this whole party at the k palace; taehyun gets to look around at how it all goes and think about what he’s going to do when it’s him that’s in charge of making sure it all runs smoothly. sure, he won’t be in charge of planning the event or plating the food or manning the bar or anything, but it’ll be his duty to make the k palace reputation doesn’t fall. it’s a lot to put onto shoulders that stopped caring about the weight of the burden.

so back to the issue at hand: escaping without being caught so he can get outside. taehyun weaves his way through the crowd, avoiding eye contact with as many people as possible before reaching the door behind the sever station. he throws it open to get to the side entrance, just off where the rich and famous are getting out of their rides for the night before heading in the main doors. he positions himself in the shadows, hidden away from prying eyes, before tapping a cigarette out from his packet and lighting it. he hears a rustle near him, he’s sure of it, but it quiets as soon as it has begun. with a shrug, taehyun takes another drag, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall.

tae hears it again. the bushes sound as if they’re caught in the wind, the noise quick before vanishing again. only this time, it’s followed by a giggle that he knows he’s heard before. taehyun closes his eyes before counting to three in his head and pushing off the wall to investigate. the small form he sees in the distance confirms what he had feared. “rieon, what the fuck are you doing out here?” 

[hebijeeb]

     TO PAINT A PICTURE: k palace’s rooftop terrace is as breathtaking as the air is thin. twenty-something floors up, it is as instagram worthy as it is nausea inducing for those suffering from acrophobia or the backlash of being two or three shots past your limit. rieon, in particular, is plagued with the latter. although to her credit, for her height and build—which teetered on the line of too far—she’s handling her alcohol fairly well; all things considered.

     of course, we won’t talk about how she’s already emptied her stomach’s contents once before the night’s even begin—but for the most part? peachy keen.

     which explains the vigor that takes to her while she sits, feet bare and manicured toes curling around the edge of the cushion. in her hands a device made to end the world—or at least, stop it—with the abundance of skeletons she has uploaded on the cloud alone. 

     and this current deep dive through the archives, in particular, has to do with the familiar face standing beside his father throughout the whole ‘speech’ given earlier.

     yang xx. xx? well—she had been a bit too busy trying to keep down dinner to remember any names. but, not the point. yang xx with the eyebrows and crappy chin job, yeah, she’s seen that face before. december, 2019—if she remembers right.

     a quick search through the cloud is all it takes to confirm her suspicions and though voicing her triumph out loud may have ruffled a few feathers, the youngest kang pays no heed to it, taking a gulp out of her gin and tonic (again, why is she still drinking? nobody knows) in celebration. 

     though, just because she doesn’t care—doesn’t mean others don’t.

     then—INTRODUCING: MIN JAEHOON.  

     towering, regal, and filled to the brim with considerable flippancy, dad’s latest prospective son-in-law has been easier on the eyes than most. although rieon likely wouldn’t verbally admit so soon, it helps nonetheless that he’s equally not into this “engagement” as she was. and for the last two years in which they were to “court”, both had come to an agreement regarding how to both placate their families and stay out of each other’s way. which, namely, was just doing what the fuck they wanted behind false pretenses.

                                                                       if you think about it, it’s not a bad deal.

     excluding the part in which min jaehoon seems to think he has the right to tell her anything.

     “iiiiiiiiiiii don’t wanna hear this from you like i wasn’t forced to go to your dumb little show last time,” she half sings, eyes fixated on her screen and hand patting impatiently at the spot beside her. “comecomecome,” rieon presses her phone in his hands when he does, leaning into his personal bubble. “isn’t this the yang kid? i think we partied together like couple christmases ago.” not that she could remember exactly what happened that far back—but whatever.

     she shifts closer when the breeze picks up, gaze settling on the man beside her with a growing frown. “yah,” rieon reaches out, acrylic nails carding through his hair. “what did i say about 5:5 parts? i know you’re psychopathic but you don’t actually gotta look the part.”

— waltz in e-major / @hebijeeb

a happy (?) couple (??) meet on a rooftop

there comes a point in time when jaehoon finds his patience thin. there are only so many side comments from his grandfather and father that he could handle — only a certain amount of references to his old career as a monkey playing the piano and he reached his limit about an hour ago.

so it’s no surprise that the drones of his fellow party goers no longer hold his interest. too caught up in his own perceived superiority to believe that he might find someone interesting enough to hold a conversation with or a haven from his family members.

the singer moves with practiced ease through the crowd of people, his steps light as he makes his way to the elevator — his eyes shift, before steps onto the lift.

one floor

two floors

minutes pass and he finds himself at the rooftop terrace, the cold autumn air hits jaehoon’s skin as he steps out, but his ears catch something before his eyes get a chance to spot anyone else on the terrace.

a familiar screech breaks the silence.

the rumors of the kang’s only daughter’s grace and poise were greatly exaggerated.

in a corner, there sits his friend no future fiancee curled on the couch, the light of her cellphone illuminating her pretty features.

“rieon do be careful with your volume,” jaehoon calls out, covering his ear with two fingers, “you may break the glass around you, or what would you do if my eardrums were injured because of your screeching.”

[hebijeeb]

Ted Lasso 2.10 | No Weddings and a Funeral

[hebijeeb]

[ DEPRAVITY.

     meaning, moral corruption; wickedness.      meaning, wicked or morally corrupt act.      meaning, innate corruption of human nature.

     ALTERNATIVE NINE LETTERED WORD: KANG RIEON.  ]

     there’s something wrong with the youngest kang. something foul that seeps out from beneath porcelain skin, through minuscule cracks behind a winning smile. from her fingertips to her crown, it’s undeniably so—a blink and you’ll never catch it sort of flicker thing—that kang rieon, no matter how prettily packaged and gingerly coddled, is undisputedly abhorrent. that her demons exist without rhyme or reason. that the nauseating factors of her personality comes without a tragic backstory nor a heart-wrenching catalyst like in the stories. 

     there is no reason, justification nor redeeming qualities, i’m afraid, she simply exists to be a honeyed nightmare. 

     though, her therapist might differ—but there’s something distinctively untrustworthy about the words from someone on your payroll. so you know what? i’d approach at your own risk.

     but i digress, the deep-dive of the inner workings of kang rieon’s isn’t today’s theme—rather it’s what takes place on the nineteenth floor that’s the highlight. the otherwise catastrophic combination of kang rieon and song seoyi—and synonymous nine lettered word for the duo? 

                                                                                                  EVILDOING. 

     on point, isn’t it?

     “eo,” the smile on her face is kind, careful fingers reaching out to tuck a stray lock behind the younger girl’s ears; the act deceptively doting for a smile that vastly contrasted with the look in her eyes, half lidded and pupils blown. her conscience is long gone, door left ajar and remnant warmth seeping out with every passing second. by the time dinner and schmoozing came and went, rieon’s about five to seven shots past her limit. and with every act of emptying her stomach and relining its contents with ‘the good stuff’ and the occasional handful of popcorn, her good-will wanes—and here, now, she’s thinking well fuck, if it weren’t for you i wouldn’t have to stand here with my tits crushed in this goddamn bra.

     “it’s for your own good,” she sighs out, in her hands a flute filled of demi-sec bubbly that she swirls contemplatively. “it’s better learn and work on your tolerance now with us rather than embarrass yourself later with everyone else, y’know?” rieon offers a pointed look, an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “don’t worry, i don’t care for hard liquor either—too bitter—let me show you what i usually do,” she gestures seoyi to hand the shot to the youngest, dictating with a manicured finger.

     “just drink that and then chase it with this—” rieon presses the flute into her hands, glossy lips forming her usual disarming smile. “then it won’t taste bitter at all! trust me.” 

10:46 p.m the k palace hotel nineteenth floor, recreation room @hebijeeb & @jaehoxn

there’s toxicity in the air; its source, she can’t exactly pinpoint. maybe it’s the thirty milligrams of poison pulsing through veins, leaving a stinging feeling in her nose and an ever-gaping hole in her heart; or, maybe, it’s the five (fifteen?) tequila shots pooling in the pit of her stomach—eating at her liver’s lining and, no doubt, her listlessness, too.

sometime in the middle—or perhaps the beginning or, rather, closer to the end—the need for social persecution overpowers the desire to party, and with a handle of vodka and stack of solo cups in hand, seoyi happens upon herself in the recreation room, where best friend and brand-new neighbors await.

it starts with a smile, and then a suggestion—until shot after shot after, wait? that’s what you call a fucking shot?

one-and-a half ounces of liquor spirals into two, three, four (?) more with every hiccup! and head tilt back. seoyi stands there, smirking, as the glass bottle grows lighter with each pour and paired persuasion; and her grin only upturns more with a turn to rieon, adding verbal fuel to the nearly out-of-control flame.

“it’s really not that much alcohol—like, i mean, you and i would easily down a handle this big by ourselves by the time we were in high school, wouldn’t you say, rieon? most of us in cheongdam can, actually, so it’s weird—” a click of seoyi’s tongue, a shift in attention to the increasingly intoxicated yang’s before them.

“—that your dad never taught you guys anything about the drinking culture here when he got elected. that’s, like, basically setting you both up for social suicide, ya’ know?”

[hebijeeb]

event 01 plots! i say plots but it’s more of a rough timeline with some wiggle room for a thread—but these are kinda basic off the top of my head but i just wanted to get things running so lmk if you’re down for it!! just like and i’ll be in your dms about it! :~)

NOTE: as it is a social function it is possibly the most “refined” and properly put together rieon can come off i.e. charming, lovely, lugged around by dad to greet everyone (lots of pleasantries and false pretenses that make her sick tbh). but generally she should be on her b-e-s-t behavior!! (hah)

6:30pm — 100% she’s stress throwing up (also pregamed? LMAOOOOOO) after a suffocating car ride over w her dad but yk it iz what it iz you: a) spot her in the back by the roses and ask her if she’s good or b) somehow she puked on u before u even got a chance to say hey 7:20pm — you’re sat right by the kang table and it’s all stiff smiles and wine glasses being topped up (someone is being waved over for a second bottle already) and Silence. you: a) keep meeting rieon’s eyes unintentionally? intentionally? and she makes an excuse to come over and cozy up with your table for the rest of dinner or b) halfway through dinner rieon “accidentally” shatters her wine lass and leaves the table to clean up where you two bump into each other in the halls and she’s [hand bleeding] :) u gotta smoke? 9:23pm — the YANGS may be hosting but k palace is HER home and so she’s out and about doing some necessary schmoozing and making sure everyone’s comfortable. you: a) need help locating something or b) find it weird she’s all smiles and put together now when she was last seen reigning some kinda hell at her birthday party and want to poke the bear 9:40pm — somewhere in a secluded corner on the rooftop terrance rieon is sprawled out on the loveseat nursing a drink with her shoes off like she’s home (she IS home, ty) and aggressively searching through her photos cue a ‘HAH I KNEW I SAW THAT FUCKER SOMEWHERE’ you: a) venture close find out what that obscene squawking is or ALT you overhear her on the phone with her therapist and idk you’re very concerned 10:00pm to 11:25pm — free space! a) get wasted with rieon b) you’re already wasted and she talked you into going for a dip in the pool :~) c) she stuck her whole head under your shirt to hide from dad bc idk she’s probably plastered 11:34pm and on — i have nothing this is a ‘who wants to go to the vvip room with queen mess!!!!’ want ad. 

[hebijeeb]

rieon last year

[hebijeeb]

hi ladies MMMWAH! late but i’m here to happily introduce: KANG RIEON, 24, kang family’s “crown jewel”, and (98.8% chance) your worst nightmare!! currently, she’s studying for her MBA but lbr she knows and everybody knows that she’s just wasting time away till dad marries her off for a cow or smth ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ her about and bio is here (though the latter offers very little insight, i’ll go more into detail under the cut!). and much like rieon, i do like to come in swinging so PLEASE ! give this a like for some spithy plotting—i’ll try to msg back asap and if you’re better on disc, i have that too so just lmk!!

now without further ado... !

everyone’s favorite brat was born after a long and painful 16 hours of labor and i’m sorry to say that rieon being a pain in everyone’s (mom especially) everything does not end there

though very very loved and spoilt rotten, she learns early on that dad’s neglect starts and ends somewhere from a misread ultrasound to the start of her first menstrual cycle (in which she can no longer cling and act like "one of the boys” for a morsel of dad’s attention) and that—no matter what she does, nothing will change the fact that she’s not a son

which, naturally, her train of thought is: ok, fine, fuck you too before going on to smash a bunch of his prized liquors

and from there—it’s pretty typical breaking/smashing/shattering shit for attention

so, it’s not surprisingly when she gets slapped into therapy by the end of middle school

read: it didn’t help.

but let’s table that and go back to the resume that comes with being the kang house’s only daughter aka the recipe to the perfect daughter in law: saebom c/o ‘17, hanbit university c/o ‘21. cello grade 7, cooks (ish), sews?

unmentioned: one dui (paid off), four charges of physical altercations (paid off), numerous charges of vandalism (paid off), 6 maxed out credit cards (paid off DUH), one pregnancy scare (Don’t)

pretty much lived all her life wild and reckless with 0 consequences (except the ones haunting her conscience or whatever that’s between her and god and her therapist)

personality wise, she’s seems to have inherited dad’s temper, though she hates that comparison. don’t even bring it up (trust me, her therapist’s broken window is example enough)

a clingy, affectionate starved person through and through, which makes it hard for her to stay single for even a week

high strung af so she’s prone to screaming and throwing things when the slightest bit of things upset her (i’m sorry for her fr)

generally though, comes off as sweet with the doll eyes and the heart-shaped smile though she’s very prone to switching up on people (judgy, snappy, the works)

her mood is erratic and rieon often lets it control her as such

idk she’s kind of a bitch :^( 

currently seeing two different therapists, one for her anger issues and the other is a family therapist in which nobody fucking comes so it’s just her bitching and mom sniffling in the corner lmao

that said, loves(?) her brothers but also she hates them lmao 

really just flat out jealous since they were kids given how differently dad treats them and feels bad about it since all they spoil her while all she does is act a brat but what can you do!

to be engaged to @jaehoxn​ and idk if you’re curious to how that’s going her search history includes stuff like ‘how many years can you get for manslaughter’ ‘what part of the body hurts the most to pinch’ and ‘can you make yourself temporarily deaf’ 

plots (very vague b/c it’s late)

exes/fwbs/crushes/w/e goes in here

best friend!! ****must have really thick skin n fast reflexes :))

EX FIANCE #1 was formerly childhood friends (engaged 2 be married) till rieon overheard their parents talking about how they’d match well or sth (age 7-10 idk) and she threw a fit, kicked apart his lego set (then they fought) and sent him home crying. they never spoke after that—but hey! engagement-to-be canceled! mb they can be friends again tho :”(

EX FIANCE #2 dated for a while in college and humored the idea of getting hitched, but the more her dad liked the idea the more rieon hated it so things ended up going south anyway

literally you keep running into her when she’s going ballistics crying over a broken nail or a tear in her pantyhose fuck u

u were taking too long to park so she bumper checked you with her audi lmao 

current ‘boyfriend’ who doesn’t know she’s engaged / alt: who does and dgaf! let’s go piss off dad together!