ra0n

[ra0n]

the crux to getting through parties is to act like you're not really there. here one second and gone the next -- she possesses the opposite of a one-track mind, a bulldozer with no identifiable finish line. moving too fast means nobody can spot you but moving too fast means nobody can avoid you, either. a turn too abrupt when she's trying to weave through the crowd turns into the tip of her boot knocking against the heel of the other. her glass catches against someone's shoulder, half of its contents spilling over onto the unfortunate victim's arm, and even the strobing lights of the room do little to conceal the mess raon's somehow managed to create in the mere twenty minutes that's elapsed past midnight.

she knows him in spite of his mask but the recognition is misty, not quite there. her mouth parts for the apology that never comes because the words die on her tongue, and the bitter aftertaste left behind is almost enough to ground her. her outstretched hand retracts immediately like she had touched fire. "oh." stunned, because it's been three years and she realises he still doesn't like wearing a tie with his suit. passive, because the anger hasn't sunk in yet. quiet, because she doesn't know whether he'll listen to her now when he didn't last time. her head spins with the belated effects of too much alcohol, and the accompanying thud of her heart against her rib cage is that much louder. "i think i need another drink."

@jscariot/ 01.

[ra0n]

@raonki: pre, peri and post show

[ra0n]

yoonsu.

[ ... ] he watches her for a moment, with vested interest. eyes maybe too dark. all the glasses he's had maybe finally catching up to him, bringing the intensity of his emotions to the surface. she's talking about something that tends to turn too easily into something else. he looks at her and he can almost see it again: uncertainty, regret, confusion. it's not the time or place to open the cans and cans and cans of worms they keep under the bed they share. his mouth pulls into a lopsided grin. yoonsu signals for the bartender again, speaking no words when he calls for an entire bottle off the shelf. as the bartender opens a thing of grey goose, yoonsu squeezes raon's hand. he brings her knuckle close to him, so his lips brush bone with every word, "don't be mad, please?" he tilts his head down slightly, some insincerity in it. apologizing for nothing, really. yoonsu brings her hand closer, like he's asking her to hold his face. he tickles the inside of her wrist with a kiss, grinning as he presses his mouth to her warm skin. he looks at her, tilts his head to one side. it's something primeval that refuses to let go of her. his cheek presses against the back of her hand, "you know how much it hurts to wake up without you there." the bartender says something with a smile, then leaves—an open vodka bottle in his wake. yoonsu takes it with his free hand, drinks it like its water. he puts the bottle back down, nearer to raon. ever so helpful, "free prize at the bottom."

--

"i'm not mad." is her automatic defence. the manual one is making a joke out of it, so he doesn't catch the way she fiddles with her necklace. "maybe i should leave my half of the bed empty more often to teach you a lesson." now the curve of her smile is immediate, because she's joking like she's being serious. like they have distinct halves of the bed to begin with, like the night doesn't always collapse into early morning the same way raon tucks herself against him. heavy limbs and breaths held. she calls it the yoonsu paradox -- if she tries to force herself to think about him less, she'll miss him more. her thumb brushes over the plush of his bottom lip, fingers reshaping themselves against the curve of his cheek almost thoughtlessly before she pulls her hand away. abrupt, unlike the gradual flush that crawls across her cheeks when she reaches out for the vodka and wraps her mouth around the rim of the bottle.

she's not as good of an actress as aera, as good of a drinker as yeju, as good of a liar as yoonsu. the immediate sharpness of the alcohol is enough for her to scrunch up her nose, bottle slid back over the counter towards him with a cough she barely manages to hide into the back of her hand. her hair's falling out of the way she's pinned it up so she tucks a strand of it behind her ear, her hand continuing its path over to the neck of his shirt. she takes the material between her fingers, thoughtful. another held breath. "do i get a prize even if i don't finish it?

[ra0n]

yoonsu.

"mmh," he grins, "you want me to?" it's not really a question. she doesn't really have to ask. he doesn't let go of her hand when they reach the bar—full by the time they get there. yoonsu navigates to one end, claiming space by leaning on it. so far down, the stools and the crowd don't reach them. he signals for a round of something tacky and strong off the top shelf. he figures getting more alcohol in raon's system will make it easier to pry her away from the grim night she seems to be having. (the bartender nods. yoonsu goes back to doing what he likes—giving raon all his attention.) with his free hand, he takes her gently by the arm and pulls her close to him. "we'll have more fun in a second, okay?" he says, almost cooing, with a bit of well-intentioned humor. pushed so close, he almost has her locked in an embrace. yoonsu backs away just a bit, and places a finger under her chin so she'll look him in the eye. whatever he meant to say is replaced, reflexively, with a smile—slight, but so bright, it looks out of place in all that lowlight. yoonsu's eyes trail down to her nose, still glowing faintly. down to her mouth, her neck. he diverts his gaze from going lower and to her eyes. "promise." he leans slightly closer. gives her chin a gentle, affectionate pinch. his attention pulled away again by the bartender arriving with their drinks.

--

she tells him to stay in that tone that makes it seem like it's a question when they both know it's an order, continuing the façade that raon's someone who asks things of yoonsu instead of demands. she doesn't know when he had opened himself up to her but she knows that ever since she's been reaching in to take what she needs -- so she can hollow out some part of him and make a home there, like that'll stop yoonsu from leaving this time. "what do you mean by fun?" raon slants into his touch cautiously, tiptoeing the edge of whatever it is that's manifested in the air between them but stops short of leaving their mouths. it would be so easy, she thinks, when her eyes soften that much more because he's looking at them, because he's holding her like he's afraid she'll disappear with the strobing lights. the smile she's returning falters for a flash.

"you just want to babysit me so i don't run off and make a scene in front of gossip girl." her tone is barely serious, faint amusement bleeding into her words when her finger circles the rim of her glass with a quiet hum. one leg is crossed over the other so her calf knocks against yoonsu's leg ever so slightly, gone if he isn't finely attuned to her like she wants him to be. a sip and then, offhandedly like she hadn't been thinking about it since she first saw him -- "i didn't expect to see you here. i didn't know you were close to aera."

[ra0n]

plot call for saints & sinners event!! pls feel free to like and i'll hit you up, or alternatively feel free to dm first <3 like most people i will be prioritising shorter event threads, but I'm super excited for this and can't wait to hit the dash running with u guys :-) wcs and vibes of the night under the cut

quick tldr of raon's (unplanned) plans for the night include: getting ready with miss seryung herself, disappearing at the party almost immediately because (gasp) the reason she's attending is that she's trying to patch things up with her sister at last

read: one eviction, two weeks of job hunting and countless missed classes has screwed her head on fairly straight and she's trying to find peace amidst all the gossip girl mess

of course "finding peace" post aera-reconciliation means getting absolutely hammered for the sake of getting hammered -- see you on the dance floor (be there or be square!!!!!)

onto some suggested wcs but these are p vague/flexible!! raon's just doing raon things most of the night so expect your muse to be dragged into shenanigans

nothing like a quick argument to start things off! could be the result of a drunken altercation ie raon spills her drink on your muse accidentally or vice versa or bonus points if you're both sober and using alcohol as an excuse to get things off your chest that's been weighing on you for a while (prolly needs more plotting if its the latter)

nothing like versatility so she will be crying in the bathroom multiple times throughout the night (esp right after she has her heart to heart with aera; you catch her during one of those times and offer to lend an ear which she accepts and bulldozes into a spiral about everything going wrong in her life

mask fiasco 1 -- both of you mistake the other for someone else and let slip secrets that you shouldn't have

mask fiasco 2 -- you're handsy on the dance floor with each other and make promises both of you know you can't keep in the morning

designated drinking buddy around the beginning of the night -- anything she can do, you can do better (alternatively known as double it and give it to the next person)

smoking area halfway through the night when you're both x number of shots in -- she's left her lighter inside and asks to borrow yours but when you give it to her, she thinks it's a good time to kickstart a conversation about a) how out of place she feels in seoul b) the looming uncertainty of her future and c) how you look just as lonely as she feels

1am and a stomach full of alcohol means it's time to take a quick detour from the party and head to the nearest convenience store for melona. you find a shopping cart on the way and that's your ride back to the party because raon insists she's stronger than she looks and can wheel you easily

[ra0n]

yoonsu.

[ ... ]

instead of heading out the door like all those years before, yoonsu waits in front of one this time. he leans back against the wall, looks at his shoes. sober again. lock clicks, door opens. yoonsu lifts his head, greets her with a slight smile she's familiar with. it looks out of place there, like something that should have been left at home. "hey, princess." yoonsu walks to her, touching her arm with one hand, as if to keep her in place. and with his other useful hand, he removes a speck of mascara fallout she missed from the side of her cheek. without that speck, the spot looks eerily empty. some place a kiss would go. he tears his eyes away before the intrusive thoughts win. yoonsu meets her stare, smiles another should-have-left-it-at-home smile. he doesn't say anything about what he saw, or how the tip of her nose still glows more red than the rest of her face. "c'mon," he speaks in a soft, should-have-left-it-at-home voice. a gentle, guiding hand on the small of her back as he starts them on a path to the bar, "let's get a drink."

--

she's in zugzwang; a turn to the right would send her straight into the life of the party with wet eyes, and a turn to the left means she has to steamroll through the flashing lights of the cameras on the photo wall. the only option is pushing ahead, the solitude of the bathrooms a safe haven where she can somehow try and salvage the clumps of mascara clinging to her eyelashes.

yoonsu's waiting outside for her. he always seems to be nowadays, the lilt of his voice cutting through the racket, the brush of his thumb against her cheek like a quiet promise of something more. she suddenly feels dizzy under his stare.

quietly, confessed with a quick turn of her head towards him. "i'm going to drink the entire bar dry." whether it's more as a comment to herself or one to him remains to be seen, but raon's pushing his hand away from where it's resting against her back so she can lace their fingers together instead. because cho yoonsu's grounding, stable. he brings with him a piece of home every time she sees him outside it, and she'll be damned if it's not something she'll cling to.

maybe it's the twenty-four-years-too-late-heart-to-heart she'd just had with aera, maybe it's because the dim lights in the room are hitting yoonsu just the right way and raon can catch the flicker of something in his eyes that she's too scared to put a name to, even though the bleariness of her own gaze. her voice catches in her throat when she nudges him lightly, murmuring around the lump that's settled there.

"stay with me?"

[ra0n]

ki raon , SAINTS & SINNERS / @rpxoxo

[ra0n]

jiyu.

[ ... ]

“don’t give into it, though.” she contradicts herself, smile still smooth. “gossip girl, i mean. i know that’s easier said than done, but still. we should always try to overcome, don’t you think?” and not just compete, but dominate. jiyu tucks a stray strand of hair behind raon’s ear, shifts forward into whatever thickens in the space between them, this little space so coveted everything about jiyu becomes tender. too personal. “you shouldn’t feel like you’ve got to compare yourself to your sister, raon. you’re sisters. i didn’t think you were like that.”

"she only gets to me if i want her to." raon lies through her teeth because it comes so easily to her -- too easily if anything, the upshot of having to repeat an answer to the flocks that ask the same question again and again. "gossip girl's nothing without people giving her attention. sending in tips, photos, liking her posts. i don't know. people are always usually watching each other, don't 'cha think? there's probably a few people watching us now. it's just human curiosity, and i don't think it's any different just because she has a platform."

jiyu's close enough that raon can see the miniscule flutter of her eyelashes when her pupils dart around to capture her features. the way her mouth tilts into a coquettish smile the second she feels jiyu's fingers brushing against her ear is only natural, as is the inevitable darkening of her eyes.

she's wrong. raon has to compare herself despite waxing false poetry about how little gossip girl matters to her -- she has to, because competition is engraved into her system like the blood that flows through her veins now. maybe it's a sibling thing. "maybe i'm not who you thought i was, then. maybe i'm so possessive that i'll go batshit insane unless you tell me i'm prettier than my sister. have you considered that, fashionista?" her ensuing burst of laughter is the only sign that she's joking, because she doesn't quite move to widen the gap between them and her gaze doesn't lift from where it's locked onto the other's. raon counts to three before she pulls away ever so slightly, hand shoved in her pocket to fiddle with the lighter that sits there.

"so? when are you going to take me to the studio? i'm taking your silence as acquiescence that i'm going to get a one-on-one tour."

[ra0n]

remrse.

[ ... ]

"i only have an extra suit, but i think the pants would be far too long for you. this should be enough, though." he hands her his white buttoned down shirt and the towel he had gotten from the trunk he came with in the morning. "most people had left for the refreshment party so the museum is pretty much empty. don't worry, just change into this."

"what was she saying, jaerim? about the painting?"

it's all because staying is hard but running away is easy that she wears the shamelessness of avoiding reality like a second skin.

maybe not as well as she thinks she does but it's there regardless, one foot in front of the other. missing calls that she could easily pick up, turning a blind eye to notifications even when they pile up on her lockscreen. raon's too busy acting like she doesn't know the feeling of seo jaerim's skin pressed against hers to answer seo jaerim himself's messages.

the argument she had been involved in a mere few minutes ago still tastes bitter on her tongue, and her heart had hammered like the pounding of her footsteps when she followed jaerim wordlessly. there are five stages to anger but none of them encapsulate the boiling, silent humiliation that eats away inside of you when you realise you're just collateral damage in a fight between ex-lovers.

she's sick of it. the mortification of having wine spilled down the front of your clothes is made that much worse when the only person to help you is the one you've been avoiding for the past two weeks. even now, raon can't quite bring herself to look at jaerim because she knows there's a silent message in his stare when it's fixed on her. an apology, maybe.

an "i missed you". she's scared he'll spot the same in her eyes.

raon sucks in a sharp breath, turning the shirt over in her hands after she snatches it from him with a force characteristic only to her worst moods. "she threw wine on me, over the painting. like -- like i'm some sort of fucking animal." her nails dig into her palms, grounding herself in the sting that she feels when they press curves against the skin. she turns onto him now, tips of her mouth turned down in a scowl.

"fuck her. fuck you, too. i'm a fucking person, not some toy for everyone to take their anger out on. what the fuck do you want from me?"

[ra0n]

aera.

[ ... ]

as much as she would like to lash out with words as much as raon is, she can't. and she's sure that the staff may not be buying her fabricated disposition, but in the court of public opinion who would be coming out on top? the woman that tried to play nice with everyone, or the inexperienced brat who acted as if she was at helm? still, aera makes her way to the recording booth and settles herself in, a sense of familiarity flooding her mind with memories of her trainee days. there's a clearing of her throat before she speaks into the microphone, speakers saturating the room with her words, "sorry for the lateness, everyone! i wanted to make sure everyone felt my gratitude for working with me⏤ i mean, us. also, i'm super sorry for my sister's attitude, too. it's probably her first time working around actual professionals and stuff, so ... please grant her some grace," and she doesn't look away from raon's eyes as she speaks, hiding her malice with a slow blooming grin, "she just doesn't know how this works, so. anyway! i warmed up in the car so we can start whenever!"

"it's not my first time, actually, but thanks." her words are sharpened, lashing out at the first strike like a self-defence mechanism. the air feels that much cooler with the resonant silence of the room, conversations simmering down to a mute because raon bulldozes through the tense air like a bull in a china shop. "i know it isn't yours, but it must feel so nostalgic to you, right? all that training and you didn't even get to debut in the end -- what a waste."

generosity and thoughtfulness come to her not as a first, or even second, thought. it's something that isn't built into her system the same way it appears to be built into everyone else's, people bending backwards over themselves just for the sake of pleasing others no matter the personal cost. it doesn't come to her like it comes to aera, the epitome of kindness and consideration in the eyes of the staff around the room. raon thinks the world's turned upside down if giving out vitamins means you're the paragon of goodness.

particularly because she knows the kindliness is as crafted as every other part of aera, the latter's eyes persistently resting on raon with that weight like she knows she's nothing but a temporary bother. a small hitch in her otherwise perfect life. it's easier to twist the staff's opinions in a small studio, framing raon as the bratty younger sister with an attitude problem, than it is to turn gossip girl and her followers' tides in her favour.

the unsettling reminder at the back of her mind, that yoojung likes her, likes aera in all her superficiality and crafted persona, is an unwelcome one that forces her hand to toss her vitamins to someone standing behind her. raon wears her heart on her sleeve because there's no reason to hide her blatant disdain, even if it means the daggers of people's eyes boring into her back sting more than she'll ever admit.

"i don't think it's my attitude. i'm just the one being professional out of us two because you're running late and it's eating into everyone's times. i know you're an influencer, but it's not fair on everyone to cater to you, y'know?" her lips press into a thin line, fingers tapping against the keyboard.

she doesn't know if what she's saying is true, but she's willing to take a stab in the dark in the hopes that it'll land somewhere. "taking a shot in the backseat doesn't count as warming up. can you do it again?"

[ra0n]

yoonsu.

[ ... ]

"how about you?" he moves along into another conversation, prying raon's attention from the near-miss. he asks without pity, but only with the respectful caution he knows the question calls for. with what raon told him the last time he saw her, he has no idea how good or bad the answer could possibly be. "how are things at the bar?"

--

her hand flies out before she registers it herself, but the way her fingers immediately bury into the side of yoonsu's shirt is a pathetic seatbelt compared to the way his arm's already outstretched across her front. she's one second too late and he's five steps ahead as always. the realisation makes her let go of the fabric almost sheepishly, reaching up to brush her thumb over the back of his knuckles like a double reassurance.

she hopes her disappointment when his hand moves from her hair isn't as palpable as it feels. "i'm okay." a stray strand is tucked behind her ear. "you -- are you okay?"

he always does this. finds a way to make raon feel like he's a hidden alcove to burrow into without the tribulations gossip girl's endowed her with this week. someone who looks at her like the words coming out of her mouth deserved to be listened to, not turned down as background noise. raon doesn't know when she had decided that cho yoonsu's a manifestation of that itch that's been following her around since childhood, that aspiration to be something more than just a small name in a small town. he slots into the role regardless.

suddenly, she's twenty again and lighting up a cigarette in front of what a sign deems to be the scariest haunted house in seoul. he's there, too -- younger but with the same lopsided smile as he tilts his head, asking her whether she has plans for the evening. his smile widens when she tells him he doesn't, and she only realises after that her mouth had mirrored his.

"uh, they're not." she says, a little tactlessly because she's not sure whether expressing just how heavy her situation is will just bring more cons than anything. she's gnawing on her bottom lip, glancing outside the window and at the neon lights so she doesn't have to spot the look in his eyes. "i did end up getting fired because some fucker lied on gossip girl about me stealing. and now i can't afford rent so i'm just ... i don't know. floating, y'know? it's fine. i don't like being in one place for so long, anyways."

[ra0n]

@raonki: blocking out the gossip 🎧🎧🎧

[ra0n]

jiyu.

[ ... ]

“really. you are. i get it if you don’t want to, though. gossip girl is such a fucking cunt lately. my biggest fear right now is something going wrong at the show and they make a post about me. seriously.” but she’s not serious, not wholly. for jiyu, her tormentor has a name, hovers over her ominously but at least that means they’re reachable. “it feels like seryung just came back and every other post they make is about her in some way. even the shit with you and your sister.” she says, carefully and watching raon just as meticulously. “why is it anyone else’s business what goes on between you two and a guy? obviously all the comments are just gonna be misogynistic bullshit about which one of you is prettier or how humiliating it is for you guys and how they feel sorry for you. so annoying.”

raon's flustered. "how sweet of you." she murmurs. she says sweet because she knows she can't say sickly before it, glances away because she knows it's the only way to conceal her newfound flush. "but i can't. i can't model, i mean. i'd much rather just do the music, y'know?"

raon notices that jiyu's hand is cold against her skin when her fingers brush over, her head tilted up like she's something malleable for jiyu to play with, putty in her hands. she finds her breath caught in her throat because she's holding it in, and the subsequent laugh sounds a little choppy even to her own ears.

"yeah, it seems like she's got eyes everywhere. i can't even do anything without feeling like i'm being watched and i can't imagine what it's like having to worry about a whole show on top of that. jesus, what a fucking drag." her fingers already itch for another cigarette between them, like the weight of the world on her shoulders can dissipate with its smoke and a stubbed-out filter. "you're better than me. i would've kicked up a fuss by now."

honesty's still a habit that hasn't settled into her bones just yet, because she's far too used to beating around the bush. a brief flash, just a trace of the weariness that she's felt for the past few weeks instead of the perpetual wolfish grin she wears-- she doesn't know what jiyu'll make of that. what jiyu'll do with that, even. raon doesn't want to know, either, so the natural step is to hum under her breath, eyes turning to her when she asks ever so teasingly. "anyways -- who do you think's prettier between me and my sister? me, right? i'll get jealous if you answer otherwise."

[ra0n]

yoonsu.

[ ... ]

not without reluctance, he lets go of raon to open the passenger door for her. yoonsu takes his bulky green bomber jacket off as he walks around to the other side. slipping into the driver's seat in his red plaid shirt, he throws the jacket into the back as the engine growls to life. "what does ki raon eat for dinner on a normal sunday night?" he asks as he pulls into traffic.

--

she's twenty-four years old when yoonsu nestles into her daily routine like a memory she's much too fond of, somehow settling back into the same space he had left all those years ago. raon still doesn't know whether she should call herself indomitably stupid or simply hopeful, but she's learned two things in life -- run whenever things get too difficult, and take what you can get.

6:34pm. raon hits the ground running when she takes over the passenger seat of his car. she doesn't look back.

"whatever cho yoonsu offers." the way the corners of raon's mouth tilt up is audible, deft fingers reaching into the backseat again so she can fish out his discarded jacket to drape over herself. she's folded like a paper crane against the material, fingers of one hand tapping on the dashboard absentmindedly, the other holding up her chin when she turns her head to watch him drive. her eyes catch onto the profile of his face even in the dim light, and her smile widens. "ramen, actually. but i'd be sorta pissed if you took me out for that."

the ugly monster of anxiety always rears its head and she wonders briefly whether she's wasting some precious time of his that he could be spending doing something else. it's hampered down forcefully by her fiddling with the radio, turning it down to some muted level of noise.

forcefully, but not wholly successfully. "did you have work today? what did you do?"

[ra0n]

[ra0n]

yoonsu.

[ ... ]

he speaks in the silence. tell me things. bring your problems to me. you can tell me anything. when nothing follows, he pulls forward. "that's a real bad hand, raon," he says, with concern. yoonsu looks up at her, imploring gently, "when's the last time you took a break?" he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, pensive for a moment. "come out with me on sunday night. i'll have exactly what you need."

--

when's the last time you took a break?

there's two possible replies to a question like that -- the honest one, and the dishonest one that she knows yoonsu wants the answer to be. a break is far and few between to come across nowadays because raon wakes up and the day's already slipped through her fingers like sand but she's still expected to pick up the grains.

a monotonous, never-ending routine far too unbefitting for someone like her. she itches for inspiration and last minute changes to plans, drawn to irregularity like a moth to a flame, always at the centre of of a crowded room because she can see everything from there. her eyes and ears are trained to latch onto anything interesting enough to warrant a second glance.

that yoonsu's been the only one on the receiving end of her gaze nowadays is a realisation that hits her when she's in front of the mirror sunday evening, fingers fumbling with her favourite earrings. it's unwelcome only in the sense that she's forced to confront how easily he'd bulldozed his way into her life again -- but even bulldoze is too harsh a word for what yoonsu's like with her.

she feels at ease when he's by her side.

raon doesn't dwell on what that means because she's an expert at ignoring the obvious when it suits her, and it always suits her. even then that doesn't stop her step from faltering ever so slightly when she sees him, waiting for her. like usual. his hands are in his pockets because he hasn't seen her yet, and she takes the opportunity to swoop in like a predator going for the prey.

except in this nature documentary, raon's arm links with his and she throws him a smile. one bright enough to let the sarcasm of her words slide through, but saccharine enough to mask whatever tugs in her chest at the sight of him. "my self-proclaimed knight in shining armour." she pulls him down ever so slightly. "are you here to solve all my problems?"