lgcjaejin

[lgcjaejin]

Trying It Out

Jaejin sat cross-legged on his bed, notebook open in front of him, pen hovering like it might bite. He had read somewhere that journaling was supposed to help get your feelings out, like a mental detox. He wasn’t sure if that was true, but it felt worth a try.

“Okay… hi, notebook,” he muttered under his breath before writing the same thing down. The words looked silly on paper, but at least the page wasn’t blank anymore. He tapped the pen against the margin. What exactly was he supposed to write? He wasn’t about to pour out something dramatic just to prove a point to himself.

He ended up writing about rehearsal. How his voice cracked once and he had to laugh it off. The choreographer gave him a nod for finally landing a step cleanly.

Still, he wasn’t convinced this whole “journaling thing” was some magical cure. He stared at what he had written, then added at the bottom: “Not sure if this helps. But maybe it’s like stretching before practice. You don’t see the difference right away, but it keeps you from falling apart later.”

He set the pen down, closed the notebook, and shrugged to himself. Maybe tomorrow he’d try again. Or maybe he’d forget. Either way, it didn’t feel like a waste of time.

[lgcjaejin]

Quiet Notes.

The studio was warm and still, that late-summer kind of warm that sticks to your skin even inside. The faint smell of wood and old leather hung in the air, mixed with the soft echo of music drifting in from somewhere down the hall. Jaejin stepped inside, his heart beating a little faster, not from nerves exactly, but from something like excitement. Vocal practice had always been his favorite part of training. He took a seat on the bench and glanced at the trainer, who gave him a small nod and pointed toward the microphone.

No audience. No script. Just him and his voice. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the first notes come out. His voice was not perfect, sometimes shaky, sometimes soft, but it was honest. It filled the room like something he had been holding in for too long. He moved a little without thinking, swaying to the sound only he could hear, fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out and grab the music.

When he finished, the trainer nodded and gave a few straightforward pointers about breath control and putting more feeling into the notes. Jaejin listened, taking it in without saying much. He looked out the window where the sun was low, casting long shadows across the city streets. For a moment, he just watched the light shift and fade.

[lgcjaejin]

[lgcjaejin]

Softener, Sheets, & Silent Thoughts

It’s a quiet Tuesday, and Jaejin’s curled up on the dorm balcony with a half-melted popsicle and a pile of laundry slowly sun-drying beside him. The rest of the group is scattered. Some are at the studio, some out running errands. For once, the dorm feels still. He’s not used to the silence, but it’s not unwelcome either.

The air smells like soap and the neighbor’s early dinner. Somewhere, a pigeon is cooing on a roof. He stretches out his legs, letting the sun hit his bare ankles, and mindlessly scrolls through his phone. His thumb is slow and sticky from mango flavor.

Then he sees it. An old trainee photo someone reposted. His hair was different then, darker and uneven, his jaw still soft, eyes tired. He doesn’t look cool. He doesn’t look like someone destined to be on stage. The fan caption is sweet: “He’s really grown up, huh? We believed in you, Jaejin!”

He knows they mean well. He appreciates it. But the photo makes his stomach twist. He remembers exactly how that day felt. The stress. The bad lighting. The way his shirt sat weird on his shoulders. He doesn’t look like himself, or maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to admit it.

Jaejin taps the like button anyway, even if he can’t look at it too long. It’s part of it all, he reminds himself. Growing. Failing a little. Becoming someone. You don’t get to pick which pieces people remember.

The washing machine beeps from inside, and he hauls himself up with a dramatic sigh. “Okay, okay,” he mutters to the clothesline. “Celebrity laundry boy is clocking back in.”

He lingers one last second in the sun, just long enough to really soak it in.

[lgcjaejin]

The stream opens with a glittery silver backdrop and soft blue fairy lights, casting a calm, dreamy glow over Jaejin. A large, slightly lopsided “23” balloon floats cheerfully behind him, and in front of him sits a table lined with snacks, neatly stacked fan letters, a birthday crown he’s refusing to wear (for now), and a water bottle that he’s already knocked over twice before the five-minute mark.

“Okay, hi! Hello! Wait...can you guys hear me? Can someone type a green heart if the audio’s working?” His voice is bright and a little rushed as he leans in, scanning the chat with wide, sparkling eyes. “Oh! I see them! Okay, we’re good. Whew.”

He’s dressed comfortably, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, curls still damp like he rushed straight from practice. “First of all, thank you to everyone who remembered... not that I’d be offended if you didn’t. I mean... a little offended, maybe?” He grins, clearly joking. “It’s my first birthday livestream, so I was nervous, but you guys are making it feel like a giant FaceTime call.”

He waves again, a bit more polished this time, the smile on his face big enough to hide the nerves still fluttering underneath. “I really thought no one would show up. But look at this. You’re all here. It’s real. I’m real.”

He adjusts the camera and laughs at himself. “Alright, let’s do questions ”

Q&A Segment

Fan Comment: What was the first thing you did this morning? “Brushed my teeth,” he replies with mock seriousness. “Even on my birthday, I live in fear of my dentist.”

Q: What's something you’re proud of this year? Jaejin pauses, smile softening. “Joining Type Zero. Being part of this team... I still can’t believe it sometimes. Every day feels like I accidentally unlocked a bonus level.”

Q: Do you still cry watching animal rescue videos? He groans, dramatically fanning his face. “WHO TOLD YOU...okay yes. Next question. I’m sensitive, sue me.”

As the comments scroll faster, a few negative ones slip through: “Why is he even in the group?”“So fake lol”“He’s just a filler member.”

His hand falters on the mouse for half a second, eyes flicking sideways. But then he sits up straighter, smile still intact ,gentler now, but steady.

The chat explodes in his defense: hearts, cake emojis, messages of support flying in. He leans in again, squinting exaggeratedly. “Okay, wow. You all drank caffeine today, huh? Love the energy. Let’s keep going!”

Q: What was your birthday wish? He folds his hands like he’s making a wish. “Can’t tell you or it won’t come true! But let’s just say... puppies are involved. And naps. And maybe a Type Zero world tour”

Q: If you could switch parts with a member for a comeback, who would it be? He gasps. “Trying to start drama on my birthday? Okay... maybe Baek? Everything he does looks ten times cooler. I wanna know what that feels like for once.” he laughs and continues reading

A quick scroll and another not-so-nice comment flies by. His smile flickers briefly, then recovers.

Q: Favorite Type Zero memory so far? He thinks for a moment, fingers tapping his cheek. “We filmed something earlier in the year that was super fun. I can't say more than that, but once its out you'll see what i'm talking about’”

The chat floods again with birthday wishes. He lifts the unworn crown and gives a dramatic little bow. “Thanks for spending a piece of today with me. I’ll keep doing my best. one day at a time.”

[lgcjaejin]

@LGCENT JUST POSTED A PHOTO!

2025.07.15

happy 23rd birthday, carter jaejin!

#typezero #lgcent #carterjaejin #lgcbirthday

[lgcjaejin]

Jaejin perks up when he hears his name, eyes widening a little like a deer caught in the gentle beam of a flashlight...not because he's guilty, but because he's suddenly more aware of the weight in the room. His hand tightens around the juice box he’s mid-offering, frozen in the act of passing it toward someone, probably Kai or maybe Parker, though he’s not sure anymore.

“Wha, uh, oh! Yeah. The panel.” He blinks a few times, trying to steady himself. “There was a scratch. Like, right near the lower lock panel. I thought maybe one of the kids did it earlier, you know? Sometimes they get rowdy waiting and start kicking the base or pressing buttons.” He winces a little, aware that it sounds like a weak excuse. “I didn’t really think much of it at the time... but now it does seem kinda weird.”

He shifts, glancing around nervously, catching Hyoseop’s silence and the tension that hangs heavier than usual. Jaejin’s eyes flicker toward Baekhyun, grateful for the quiet support, but the doubt in the room makes him swallow hard.

“I swear I didn’t see anyone messing with it,” he says quickly, voice softer now, almost apologetic. “There were a lot of people moving around during the second parade run, and I was just trying to make sure no one snuck an extra loop on the wheel.” He trails off, then reaches into the cooler again, pulling out a small packet of crackers and offering it hesitantly, like trying to bridge the gap in the room.

“But I can double-check the logs again. Maybe look for anything odd? I label everything so I should be able to spot if something’s off.” He clears his throat and forces a small, hopeful smile. “And, um, still got fruit punch and apple if anyone needs to... think better under pressure.”

seyoonlgc

"Time." Security officer Seyoon looked up. "Maybe we should keep the time in mind." He asked, wincing as pain once again radiated throughout his leg. Gently, he tapped his flashlight against his calf, trying fruitlessly to bring relief. "If we can't solve the mystery in time, should we start thinking about evacuation?" Was Seyoon breaking character? Probably juuuuust a tad. Look, if he were in a situation like this in real life, the first thing he would want to do would be to run the hell away. Mystery be damned. The bomb be damned. Anybody can go up in flames as long as they can find a way out. "I can't think of anything else out of the ordinary from my patrol." He forced himself to snap back into his serious 'security guard' Seyoon expression. "You got anything else, Hyoseop? You love the park the most."

kai speaks and hyoseop simply crosses his arms, he remains silent, a bit of anger in him as the other speaks. they’re a team, kind of, why would hyoseop start blaming anyone here? and why was his guesses and thoughts so out of the ordinary? was he really stupid for thinking it might be someone else than the six people sitting here? working here for so long, hyoseop just can’t seem to find a reason for why any of them would do this, perhaps, he doesn’t know them as well as he thought he did.

so, he looks around. could it be parker? he’s the least suspicious, but perhaps that makes him the most suspicious, nobody would think it was him, right? so that might just mean it is him. jaejin? jaejin is partly annoying but also often lifts the mood, hyoseop would honestly say there’s a bigger chance it’s parker than jaejin. next, baekhyun. yeah, that would make sense, though hyoseop wouldn’t admit it out loud, isn’t baekhyun the smartest here? he’d know how to pull this off. kai and seyoon then, part of hyoseop wants to blame kai, but that’s simply for the other’s accusations, in the end, he doesn’t think it’s kai, nor does he thinks it’s seyoon.

so, he suspects parker and baekhyun he supposes. he looks as seyoon asks a question, decides to remain quiet, if it really is someone here, maybe the most reliable person to figure this out is himself.

[lgcjaejin]

PROMPT #1 - REACTION

Jaejin sat comfortably in front of the camera, already giggling before the first question even dropped. “Alright, listen,” he began, holding up both hands like he was about to reveal some deep, dark secret. “I need to formally apologize to everyone who believed I was a detective, because, uh… yeah, that was a total mistake.” He burst into laughter, scrunching his nose in an exaggerated expression. “I was so confident! I was over here piecing clues like I was on some crime show, walking around like, ‘I’ve got the vibe, trust me,’ and then, bam. Wrong. Twice!”

He paused for a moment, briefly covering his face with his hands before peeking out between his fingers. “Case one? I genuinely thought Runaway Groom Cha was innocent. Had those sad, puppy-dog eyes! I fell for the sad eyes! I pretty much cursed myself right then and there.” He shook his head with a grin, clearly amused. “And for case two, I was so sure Kai and Won were just your average, chill, rich guys. Like, ‘They’re too relaxed to be scheming,’ and turns out, they were relaxed because they were actually winning. Classic.”

Leaning closer to the camera as if sharing some secret inside info, Jaejin added, “I’ve learned a few things today. First, that never trust me around a mystery without snacks and someone smarter than me guiding the way. My talents are better suited elsewhere, like cheering from the sidelines or carrying the group’s emotional baggage. Or maybe just being the official snack distributor.”

He shrugged with a relaxed grin. “Next round, I’m going in with zero expectations. Just vibes. Maybe a magnifying glass for aesthetic reasons, got to keep it stylish, right? Honestly, though, I had a blast being wrong. It’s kind of my thing now. So… maybe one more case and then Detective Jaejin's retiring early with dishonor.” He laughs and winks at the camera.

[lgcjaejin]

For Dad, Eventually...

Jaejin didn’t realize he’d missed Father’s Day until a couple days later, when someone offhandedly joked in the hallway, “Hope your dad liked his gift.” The words hit harder than they were meant to, peeling his attention away from everything else he was juggling. Meetings, practice, the blur of work and barely-there sleep—it was easy for one day to slide into the next until dates lost meaning.

It was only when he scrolled through his phone that night, watching old texts stack up, that he realized he’d let it pass by. A slow clench of guilt worked its way through his chest. He hadn’t meant to forget. The days were just so loud, packing in from all sides, and he’d been swept along by them.

Bits of memory drifted in anyway: his dad at the kitchen counter, steam curling up from instant coffee, the crinkle of newspaper under his palm. How he'd always let Jaejin "win" epic Mario Kart rounds—at least until it stopped being an act. The dry jokes and the comfortable, wordless silences, a steady hand on Jaejin’s shoulder when he was more lost than he could ever admit out loud.

He hovered over the message window, typing and deleting, starting with an apology, scrapping it, trying again. Everything felt flat or forced. “Happy (belated) Father’s Day” looked cheap on the screen. But silence felt worse.

Eventually, he sent:

Sorry I missed the day, Dad. Hope you had some time for yourself anyway. Next time I’m upgrading your busted Switch controller, I promise.

He stared at what he’d sent—awkward, late, not enough. But it was honest, and in the end, that was all he had.

He didn’t expect anything profound back.

He just hoped his dad would understand.

[lgcjaejin]

After months of just messing around and practicing by himself, Jaejin finally gave in to his trainer’s advice and went back to acting class. The trainer told him he looked stiff on stage, like he wasn’t actually feeling anything, and maybe being back in class would help. Jaejin honestly didn’t know if it would work, or just make everything more awkward, but he figured it was worth a shot.

Walking into the studio wasn’t as terrifying this time. It was still weird, sure, but the anxiety felt sort of muted, buzzing in the background instead of overwhelming him. He took a seat in the circle, doing his best to keep calm and ignore how his heart sped up whenever anyone even glanced his way.

He didn’t feel totally lost anymore. There was this tiny bit of hope, like maybe he wouldn’t screw everything up. The instructor started walking around, calling names for roll. She did it with this chill energy, making the room feel almost comfortable, like she’d done this a million times before.

When it was his turn, Jaejin barely managed a soft “here," barely above a whisper. His heart thudded like crazy, but nobody actually stared too long. That somehow made it easier to breathe again.

The class hadn’t started yet, so he slouched a little in his chair, planning to just listen and lay low. Those comments from that article, the ones calling him empty and “nothing special,” kept bouncing around in his head. But looking around the room, he realized everyone else seemed just as nervous, messing with their notebooks or staring at their phones.

He focused on breathing, listening to the low background chatter. Maybe, if he tried really hard, he could ditch some of that baggage at the door this time and actually figure out what was real for him, something that wasn’t just noise from everyone else.

[lgcjaejin]

@TYPEZEROFFICIAL just posted a photo!

Just a boy and his camera roll. 📸💙 #CameraReady

#typezero #lgcent #carterjaejin

[lgcjaejin]

Jaejin grinned, shoving another forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth while considering how to answer. "Scotch eggs, huh? That's seriously professional. I don't think I've ever actually had a real one, just a convenience store versions when my family had a layover in London, and I feel like those don't count, right?" He let the question hang there, genuine curiosity mingling with a teasing undertone. "You’re really selling it, though. I might have to put in a special request for the full English treatment one day. ."

He set his fork down for a second, elbows on the table as he turned his attention fully to Kai. "Honestly, anything that feels like home for you, I want to try. It’s a big deal, actually sharing something so close to your roots." He pauses, then flashes a crooked grin. "Just, uh, let’s keep it nut-free. Or, you know, not secretly a salad pretending to be food. I have a strict anti-rabbit diet policy." The corners of his mouth lift with the joke, but it’s clear from his expression that he genuinely means it, he’s here for whatever Kai wants to share.

He glanced down, fiddling with his napkin, the laughter fading into a softer, more earnest energy. "If it’s a real taste of your home, I’m in. I want to see the side of London you grew up with, not just the touristy popular stuff ." After a beat, he looks up, eager again. "Is scotch eggs something you’d eat when you missed home, or more of a family tradition thing? I always wonder what makes food comforting-sometimes it’s just nostalgia, or maybe who you eat it with."

He nudged Kai’s foot gently under the table, eyes bright. "Let’s make a deal. Next time, you cook, then we swap. Best comfort meal wins, loser does dishes. What do you think? And, uh, if you want to throw in Marmite, just warn me. I’ll try anything at least once."

Kai had always been naturally outgoing, effortlessly striking up conversations and forming connections with others. Yet, when it came to breaking down barriers and moving beyond surface-level interactions, he sometimes faltered.

It was his lingering worry about not being truly liked that held him back; especially with Jaejin, his first roommate after an entire year of having his own private space. Kai wanted to grow closer to his new bandmate, but the whirlwind of comeback preparations, concerts, and constant traveling left little room for deeper bonding.

So when a knock at the door and Jaejin's familiar voice pulled him from his focus on the video game in his hands, it was a welcome interruption. Setting the Switch aside, Kai hopped up from his bed, opening the door to greet Jaejin with a warm grin, tender and genuine. "I'd love to, actually," he responded cheerfully. "I don’t think I’ve even eaten today."

Playfully nudging Jaejin toward the kitchen, Kai sniffed at the air with an exaggeratedly content sigh. "Smells amazing. Now that I think about it, it’s been forever since I had mac and cheese. Is it your go-to dish to make?" His curiosity was genuine, tone light and inviting. Cooking had always been a small passion of his—a way to care for the people around him—so the topic felt natural.

Kai took a seat at the table, his excitement as pure and childlike as someone opening gifts on Christmas morning. "Next time, I’ll cook for you. Your favorite dish."

[lgcjaejin]

Jaejin blinks, caught mid-thought by Baekhyun’s even-keeled call. He perks up a little, tugging his small blue cooler closer, an anchor in uncertain waters. “Oh, um, right! Sorry - just, y’know, it’s a lot.” He fumbles open the lid, the familiar hiss of cold air breaking some of the tension. Digging around with practiced clumsiness, he finds what he’s looking for. “Baekhyun, juice box? It’s fruit punch” His grin is sheepish as he holds it out, gaze flickering to Baekhyun with open admiration. “You, uh, you need energy for all that pyrotechnics wizardry, right?”

Without missing a beat, he almost bounces over to Seyoon, extending a chilled apple juice with both hands. “Officer Seyoon, for you. Can’t let security run on empty.” There’s a nervous little chuckle. “You’ve been patrolling non-stop, haven’t you?” Jaejin straightens, trying to mirror Baekhyun’s calm, but his voice still carries a soft, apologetic lilt. “Honestly, I didn’t see anything. Nothing outside the parades. Just regular families, parade crew in a rush, some kids asking for more spins.” He presses his lips together like he’s replaying each moment of the night, then shakes his head, curls bouncing. “I did see one of the custodian carts parked closer than usual, but that could be nothing. I mostly made sure everyone buckled in safe, and, well, handed out snacks.”

He lifts a grape box from the cooler, holding it out. “Anyone else? There’s orange, too. And some crackers. oh- and chips or fruit snack if you prefer that” His voice softens as he nudges the snacks forward. “Nobody should be hungry for this kind of thing.” Another fruit punch is offered in Kai’s direction, and Jaejin turns to Hyoseop, adding with a small nod, “And for you, Maintenance Crew Lead. Can’t have the whole place falling apart because you skipped dinner.”

Finally, he pivots back toward Seyoon, worry and hope mixing in his eyes. “Officer Seyoon, you’re probably the only one who’s had eyes on most corners tonight. Was there anywhere near the Ferris wheel or along the parade route that seemed off to you? Maybe someone hanging around too long, or any spot that made you feel… uneasy?” His hopeful gaze lingers, still flicking back to Baekhyun now and then, like he’s searching for approval or maybe just permission to keep handing out snack in the face of impending disaster.

@seyoonlgc

Lead Pyrotechnics Technician Baekhyun... Lead still, because his promotion was given to someone else. Someone clearly less qualified if they let things get to this point. This was always what he has done, after all, cleaning after mistakes someone else's responsible. But this is bigger. They want to blow up his park!

LPT Baekhyun is nothing if calm and collected though, especially in front of his fellow colleagues. No one needs to know how badly he wanted that promotion, but was ignored once again. So he keeps an stoic face, though his body language is open. No crossed legs and no crossed arms. He observes. He knows everything. Or well, almost everything since the mystery of letter and the alleged bomb still hangs in the air between them.

At Manager Parker's inquiry, he doesn't even flinch. Of course. It makes sense. It's not an insensible guess, and he has his grudges, of course, but making an spectacle out of it? So dramatic. "I believe everyone here was extremely busy with preparations for the event, I'm no exception. I was overseeing the Midnight Lights Parade," he says instead of going straight with it. He then turns to their Ferris Wheel Operator Jaejin because who else would he turn to if not the person who looks up to him the most out of everyone? "FWO Jaejin, you're probably one of the staff who has the most contact with the public given your position at the feris. Haven't you seen anything or anyone suspect? Anyone particularly shifty or who looked like they were carrying more than they should?"

@lgcjaejin

[lgcjaejin]

ENHYPEN 'DESIRE : UNLEASH' Concept Photo (MAKE Ver.) Part 2 - HEESEUNG

[lgcjaejin]

Nothing Special...

Jaejin scrolls past the headline at first, thumb pausing over a photo of himself from the latest showcase, which he remembers because the nerves were coiled so tightly in his stomach he thought he might actually puke.Normally he'd have kept going. He’s learned pretty quickly that the less he sees about himself online, the better. But curiosity or maybe masochism wins out. He taps.

The words sting, dragging across every raw spot he already knows by heart. “So called lead vocalist.” His eyebrows twitch, but the rest of his face stays rigid, trained, stuck in the neutral expression he’s practiced so well. He’s been called worse before. Maybe he even deserves it. But seeing it all laid out together, written where anyone can see - somehow it settles in his gut differently. Like a checklist of every single thing he already picks apart in himself when he should be sleeping, alone in the dim blue light of his phone. Shaky vocals, disappearing completely, processed, as if he’s just background noise with a body. The kind of meme people laugh at because they know he won’t or can't respond.

He tries to tell himself it’s just one opinion. It’s just the internet. People say things they can’t take back behind a screen. But what if it isn’t just them? What if this is how most people see him now, and he’s the only one refusing to admit it? He tries to remember the progress. Breath support hasn’t failed in weeks, not technically. He hasn’t missed a count in practice. He’s always one of the first in, the last one out. As if outlasting everyone could make him worth watching.

Safe is tolerable, he guesses.

But “nothing special”? That one doesn’t just echo, it gnaws at him. By the time he gets to the comments, something tight and sour sits under his ribs. He sifts through them, bracing for impact.He sees little stabs of defense, fans reminding everyone he works hard, people arguing he deserves time. He should feel grateful. Mostly, he feels exposed, like the fans are making excuses for something everyone silently agrees on.

Then comes the joke about a cardboard cutout. He almost laughs—the kind of brittle sound that comes out when he’s absolutely alone. Closes his eyes, rubs hard at his temple as if he can scrape the comments from his brain. He’s supposed to be used to this. But it’s not the volume that hurts. It’s the precision, like they dissected everything he painstakingly tries to hide: how he counts his way through measures, how he reels himself in when his lungs burn, how he holds back so he doesn’t crash a note and make things worse.Like they know exactly what he’s desperate to fix and just want to prod the sore spots.

He could close it all out right now. Or text a groupmate, throw out some self-deprecating joke, turn it into roast material before anyone else can.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he searches for the fancam, the very one they ripped into. Presses play in the dark. Watches himself.

He looks for that blank look they describe, searches for anything that could be redeeming, any little flicker of spark that might prove he’s more than a list of missed marks and hollow effort.

But the thing that lingers, crawling beneath his skin, is how much he aches to prove them wrong—and how quietly he starts to believe every word they wrote.

[lgcjaejin]

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room—Carter Jaejin, the so-called "lead vocalist" of TYPE ZERO, who somehow keeps failing upward. Six members in the group, and yet he’s the one making every performance painful to watch. Legacy Entertainment, what were you thinking?

First, let’s address the "lead vocalist" title because—where? His live vocals are shaky at best, disappearing completely when the choreo gets slightly demanding (which, for him, is any movement beyond standing still). Even in TZ’s latest release, his lines are so heavily processed you’d think the producers were trying to hide something. Spoiler: They were.

And don’t get me started on his "dancing". He's not exactly bad, but he's definitely not bringing anything special to the stage. While the other members perform with intensity and flair, Jaejin plays it safe—always technically fine, but never captivating. You watch him and think, "okay...and?" There's no stand out moment, just someone who is going through well-rehearsed choreography without leaving any impact.

The worst part? He barely registers visually. In a group of six, he somehow manages to feel like the extra. No standout expressions, no memorable moments—just the same blank look and lukewarm delivery every single time. It's kind of impressive how forgettable he is, especially when the rest of TYPE ZERO are doing everything they can to own the stage.

At this point, it’s clear: Carter Jaejin is the weakest link in TZ, and no amount of studio magic or favorable camera angles can change that. Legacy, do better. Fans deserve idols who can actually perform, not just coast on autotune and nepotism rumors.

[ + /- ] Y’all are so hateful & for what? He’s a rookie, give him a break. His notes were stable, and he’s clearly working hard. Not everyone is born a main dancer—his vocals are good, and his stage presence will get better. Stop being so bitter. [ +/- ] It’s not even hate at this point—it’s just facts. If you see his fancams you’ll see what OP means. Zero energy with his lack of impact and expressions. [ +/- ] They could replace him with a cardboard cutout and no one would notice. Actually, the cutout might have better rhythm. At this point, his only contribution to TZ is giving the other members someone to carry. Team-building exercise, I guess?

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[lgcjaejin]

he's a real SWEET kid but his brains are MUSHED.