rkxsunggyu-blog - Tumblr blog

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

rksungho:

he was only in the mall to kill time before heading home for the day. it had been a total bust, of course, even though sungho had put his all into yet another public audition that ended in failure. meeting tiger jk had been pretty cool and all, but it did nothing to soothe the ache of defeat yet again. he needed time to walk around, clear his head, calm down before going home and acting like today never happened.

apparently he’s not the only triple crown challenger who roams malls after failures. he recognizes the other young man just briefly, remembering not thinking him a threat at all let alone triple anything. other than that he was unmemorable. what song had he even performed? or had it been multiple songs, like what sungho had done?

the stranger is crying, he notes, only sparing him a glance and not interested at all in making idle conversation.

sungho should have known that this one would be the type to gush and chatter about every little thing and he can’t help but let his lips twitch into the slightest little frown when he’s spoken to. the guy knows his name, he can’t even pretend to think he’s not being spoken to.

“thanks,” sungho doesn’t sound very thankful, and he hold back saying something about how it’s not hard to perform well when some other challengers were so mediocre at best. the other has done nothing to piss him off yet, just caught him at a time where his temper runs a little thinner than usual as he still brushes off the anger of defeat. “well i didn’t. you thought wrong.”

he pointedly says nothing about the other’s performance. better to be silent than to lie and say he was good too.

Now that he’s standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a real artist, he can’t help but feel like an impostor. His competitor probably joined the challenge because he can perform and create -- contribute to music in a way only the talented can. But, as for himself? Singing is fun, but being an idol is about the public adoration and fan worship. It’s the ultimate form of validation in such a pretty package, he won’t mind the ugly steps it takes to get there.

He’s not an artist like Sungho. He’s a scam.

He bets that Sungho can see right through him -- see right into that selfish, attention-seeking heart of his. Sometimes, he’s scared that the truth may slip and expose him. They’ll know he doesn’t just want to do this to share his music with the world or make people happy. They’re great bonuses, but chasing this dream is all about filling a void inside himself that’s become too deep to ignore.

Sunggyu looks down to the framed autograph in his weak, shaking grasp. “If a real artist like him doesn’t get signed, then what hope is there for a fake one?” he thinks. His shoulders slump, falling slowly like ice trickling away in the summer heat. His obnoxious sniffling gets louder as he tries to clear his nose, but he’s plugged up from the sobbing and doesn’t have a tissue in sight. 

“Well, it’s not a total loss,” he says, clearing his throat. “We got to meet Tiger JK, right? Even if we didn’t get in, meeting him was worth all of today’s stress.” Slowly, his defeated look morphs back into a grin of pride over his autograph. “We’ll both get in next time for sure! It’d be so cool to train with someone experienced like you, you know?” 

turner and dinkleberg ;

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

rkhoon:

( a charisma starter - @rkxsunggyu )

he wasn’t actually scared because he already knew things would end up bad - so he just didn’t do it. his torso was already starting to hurt, but it was better than getting everything broken.

his known weak spot was cats and the cute beings probably also knew about it. his eyes stared directly up at one of the gray ones, sitting on a branch as if there was nothing to worry about. jihoon raised his hands as far as they could reach, but they couldn’t reach the kitty. “come on! it’s time to get down!” the little girl beside him didn’t seem very impressed with his skills, and he couldn’t really blame her for it. “go up there!” she said, and, oh, it was the perfect idea.

so jihoon managed to jump up and grab a hold of the lowest branch, slowly making his way towards the kitten. the being looked at him unimpressed, and before the boy could catch a hold of him it just jumped down to the concrete. without even thanking him the girl continued the chase after her pet - and jihoon stayed up there, staring at the hard floor some meters below him. he laid on his stomach very much like the cat had been doing not too long before, staring down at his backpack he decided to leave behind.

without his phone to call the fire department to come to his rescue the boy stayed there, waiting for a kind soul to pass by. “help me.” the man looked tall, but from that angle, it was hard to tell anything. “please.”

“Sure, if you’ll buy me lunch,” he says. The cheeky comment rolls off his tongue and is sealed with a bite of his lips. Sunggyu spots the backpack and approaches it with childlike glee, his new sneakers squeaking and squealing with each step. His kneel to pick up the backpack is stiff and robotic, and he thinks he hears a click. It’s as though he’s a ball-jointed doll that’s seen its fair share of rust.  

“It’s a win-win for the both of us, especially if you’ve been up there for long. You aren’t vegetarian, are you?” he asks. He’ll help the kid regardless, but he wants to know how far he can take things. Apparently, his easily guilty conscience has wiggle room for fried chicken and steak bowls. 

“Maybe I could call the fire department for you...IN EXCHANGE FOR SOME SPICY CHICKEN!” he says, grinning. He shoulders the other kid’s backpack so nobody could steal it while the duo were busy talking. Then, he pulls out a cheap phone from his own back pocket. 

“Whaddya say, huh?”

can’t bring me down ;; ✩

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

rkxsunggyu:

rkminkyu:

@rkxsunggyu

It’s another day of working in the cafe. Today was much more relaxed than it had been the past few days, making him sigh in relief. Lately, the cafe had been gaining more customers after he revealed his identity of being wf.boxhead and going on I Can See Your Voice. He’s quite overwhelmed and he was glad for the breath of fresh air he was given today.

He was just leaning against the wall near the door’s entrance with his fingers drumming against the back of the wall when the chiming of bells signified the entrance of a new customer. Quickly taking a glance towards the entrance and noticing two people—a mother and her son from the looks of it—he immediately took two of the menus and went towards them with a disarming smile. “Welcome to Caffe Bene, how may I be of help?”

He takes a look at the two, the menus against his chest and held by a single arm as the other lied by his side. Hopefully, the streak of calmness may continue and that these customers wouldn’t begin the crazy for today.

It’s commonly given advice to never meet your heroes. What if they’re having a horrible day and one ill-timed, snappy comment forever ruins your favorite songs? What if they’re arrogant and their bad attitude makes you want to burn your DVD collection? What if your life’s inspiration is kinda boring and you second guess the years spent trying to follow in their footsteps?

Whether fortunately or unfortunately, it’s advice that Sunggyu never plans on taking.

Sunggyu immediately recognizes the online celebrity, one of his greatest inspirations and heroes. He takes a deep breath to reign in his emotions and hopefully, not make a fool of himself. “Are there any window boxes left?” he asks. “BOOTHS! I meant booths, not boxes! Haha, I was just thinking of boxes because you’re...um...you’re...so um, window booths?”

Smooth.

no.1 fanboy; kmk + ksg

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

I decided to make a small change to this muse muse! Sunggyu did not go to university, but worked in his mother’s store right after high school instead. I don’t believe this actually effects any of his current plots, but I figured I’d post just in case. ;u;

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

baby steps;

@ellyrk

He’ll just have to work twice as hard as everyone else. It’s what he tells himself whenever he gets news that he doesn’t want to hear. If he pushes himself hard enough -- the old, pull yourself up by the bootstraps motto -- then he can achieve anything, right? That’s how this type of thing works, right? He keeps that in mind as he unfastens the straps of his leg braces, then let’s the specialist poke and proud around his kneecaps. There’s a question burning on his tongue that he needs to ask.

But, the answer may be something he’s not ready for.

With a deep breath, he summons the courage to ask in the most casual voice he can muster. What’s his range of mobility going to look like? Does it look like he’ll be able to be active? Say, in something like dance? The answer is what he expects: the accident’s limited him -- hopes of being a contemporary or street dancer are just pipe dreams. So he asks, what about something simple like a basic, low-strain idol group routine? He gets a hesitant maybe that if the choreography was simple enough, it could be done at the cost of aches and pains. But, it’ll always look stuff. You can’t get your legs and spine held together with screws and metal plating, then expect to perform well in the next Led Apple. 

The answer is good enough for now. He’ll just have to work twice as hard as everyone else.  (But if you don’t try as hard, you won’t be disappointed when your best isn’t enough.)

The x-rays are looking solid, he’s rebuilt muscle mass in his legs, and his posture looks good. But these aren’t the things that matter in his mind. If they don’t get him where he wants to be in life, then they’re useless. Everything should’ve just been sawed off like the original emergency team wanted. And if five years from now he doesn’t have his dream, he’ll have wished the emergency team did. It would’ve spared him the torture of having his hope crushed again and again and again and again and--

Elly snaps him out of his spiraling thoughts. For now, at least. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he says sheepishly. “Did you say something, noona?” He scratches the back of his neck and sighs, looking around the examination room to avoid giving her eye contact. The doctor has left them alone for a moment to go bring back another specialist, someone who’ll have him bend and stretch like he’s preparing for a fitness exam. He knows those results will look good -- well, better than how locked up and inflexible he was last time. They’ll congratulate him. They’ll say he’s recovered beyond expectations. But, his unhappiness is stamped plain his face. He’s getting all this good news, but none of it is news that matters. “I was just thinking about how I can’t wait to get home,” he mumbles. “I think I’m gonna skip my PT appointment today. I’m...kinda tired.”

He forces a glowing smile on his face -- it’s a goofy one, similar to the thousands he’s made before. It’s an unchanging smile, staying exactly the same whether he’s happy or sad. It’s an unchanging mask. “Too much walking, you know?”

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

ellyrk:

@rkxsunggyu

it had been ages since sunggyu had been helping around with the apartment, and elly was beyond grateful with it. she had gotten used quite a lot with the idea of leaving the place in sunggyu’s presence and returning to it, that it made quite a big difference when he wasn’t here. the fact that he also had to travel quite the huge distance, just to get to the place was also bothering her a bit.

maybe that was the reason why she got back home on a night she was supposed to stay in just to catch sunggyu at her place. she opened the door with her key and as she walked in, she got greeted by one of her cats which she instantly picked up as soon as her shoes were taken off. “gyu ah?” she called out, walking further into the apartment and looking around, trying to catch a glimpse of the male.

“gyu ah, where are you?“ elly asked once again as she dropped her backpack on the couch in the living room and looked around, the cat still in her arms as she waited for a response. “i have a suggestion come out.“ she said with a whine and headed further in the apartment, waiting for any signs. she was rather hoping that her suggestion would get her an yes in the end, but she’d have to find out soon enough.

The apartment is silent except for the thwack of a wet mop slapping and swabbing kitchen tiles. His hands slide along the plastic handle, grip twisting so he can clean even the most hard to reach corners. It’s around this time of night that his joints start giving out on him because of the day’s strain. There’s a stiffness in his back, a tight and painful sensation that doesn’t release no matter how hard he twists. His kneecaps are swelling with hurt too, but he’s not the type of man to leave a job half-finished. Once the floors are clean, he’ll unload the dishwasher and head home feeling proud of himself for spending the whole day on his feet. 

A pair of scruffy, generic brand headphones in bright yellow slide on his head. He readjusts them with a flick of his fingers, wasting no time at all in finishing up the kitchen. Whatever song he’s listening too must’ve reached the chorus: he’s humming and twirling around with the mop. He might be shaking his booty a little too. Sunggyu dunks the mop in the bucket, squeezes out the excess water, and let’s it hit the floor as he does a small hop. “I’m just like TT!” he sings. “Just like TT!”   

Sunggyu does another clumsy twirl with the mop, but this time sees Elly standing right in front of them. Whoops, his boss isn’t supposed to see him twerking in her kitchen. He slips the headphones down to rest around his neck and squints at the furball in Elly’s arms. There’s no hard evidence beside hissing and a few scratches, but he’s pretty sure the cats hate him. “Elly noona, I didn’t know you were coming back so early! I’m just finishing up for the night, so I’ll be gone soon,” he says, quickly ducking his head. “Be careful not to slip! The floor’s still wet, you know.” 

roommie

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

turner and dinkleberg ;

@rksungho

He’d been too starstruck to do anything but wheeze into the palms of his hands, fingertips trembling against his flushing face. It was embarrassingly obvious that he’d been the biggest fan backstage. He squeaked and squealed while getting an autograph from Tiger JK, then loudly confessed it was the best day of his life. The audition results didn’t matter while he was bathing in the presence of his hero.

But once he’d left, the ‘best day of his life’ became a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The first thing he needed to do after the competition results was to call his mom. He’d ducked into a bathroom stall at a nearby mall to burst into tears over the phone, apologize to his mother for failing again, and hang up on her in the throes of shame. 

The second thing he needed to do was buy a picture frame. He’d shopped around at the mall for the perfect one and while the cashier was still ringing him up, had popped his Tiger JK autograph behind the glass. Now, he’s lumbering into an elevator that’ll take him down to the ground floor. The escalators aren’t working and going down three flights of stairs packed with people is just asking for an accident.

His swollen, blotchy face is sticky with tear stains drying down matte. The young man’s eyes are still red from crying too, his eyelids so puffy they’re cutting his vision in half. He stands in the corner of the elevator, where he sniffles and wipes his nose on a dampened sweatshirt sleeve. He knows there will be more auditions. He knows that given his lack of training, he should be proud of pulling off what he did. He knows all this, yet the rejection stings.

Sunggyu steels his mouth into a thin line and looks down at the picture frame in his hands, teardrops slipping down the glass. It’s funny to be so sad, but to see the cheerful scribble of your ultimate hero staring up at you. “I’ll get in next time,” he mumbles. As he wipes his sleeve against the glass, he looks up to the only other person in the elevator. Wait, was that--

“You! I know you!” he says. “You’re Jin Sungho! Your performance was so good, you know? I didn’t even see you sweat. I thought you’d get in for sure!”

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

hint of lavender;

A bumbling, insecure customer is the golden ticket for a saleswoman trying to meet her daily quota. Sunggyu arrived asking for waterproof body paint, but now carries a basket of licorice root lotion and lavender concealer. Just as Dorothy took her first tentative steps into the Land of Oz, he’s walking into a new world. His timid reflection stares back at him from aisles of glass jars and vials that remind him of an apothecary. If it weren’t for the beauty store’s modern light fixtures, he wouldn’t be surprised if he came across a bubbling cauldron and a stack of spell-books. But, the bold promises written on packaging tickle his inner skeptic. Why doesn’t he just leave? The more he looks around, the more he thinks the products pushed onto him can only work with the wave of a magic wand. Just when he’s about to say he’ll come back another time, the saleswoman works her magic. She easily overwhelms him with pseudoscience jargon. He can’t argue with science, can he? There are vitro studies and trustworthy A-List actors who would never endorse something that wouldn’t work, right?

It’s all downhill from here. The saleswoman can talk him into purchasing almost anything. If he’s getting the concealer, then he needs a foam wash to get it off at night. Plunk, another product in the basket. If he’s using a foam wash, he needs a toner -- of course you can use it for your whole body! -- to prep the skin for the lotion he’s getting. Plunk, that’s another. But, you know what would enhance the licorice root in that lotion? An alpha arbutin serum with mulberry extract. Plunk. If we’re using all of this, it’s best to get some sunscreen while you’re here because the store is having a 40% off sale! Plunk. Plunk.

The saleswoman doesn’t latch onto another customer until his shopping basket is full. But without the woman’s smooth-talking, he feels stupid. Sunggyu is the type of guy to wash his face with hand soap; he can’t even pronounce half of the products in his basket.  He can’t waste money on this shit...unless it actually works. Looking no more composed than a kicked puppy scrambling to its feet, he hurries to someone for help. “Excuse me, do you work here?” he asks. “This lady was helping me, you know? But I don’t even know what this stuff does...or if it works. Now I have a cart full of stuff and I don’t...don’t even know how this happened? I’m not sure what to do with it. I mean, I just wanted some body paint to cover some scars when I’m at the beach. Not mado....mada...madecassoside cream.” 

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

TRC’S Triple Threat Challenge | Pray & Loser (Sunny Hill & BigStar Mashup)⚙️  Time: 1:36

The first words out of his mouth weren’t ones he meant to say aloud: “WOW, it’s really Tiger JK!” He’s so shocked to see one of his heroes that he stands there, dumbfounded and clutching the microphone with sweaty palms. This is happening. This is really, really happening. If he wasn’t held upright by the metal braces encapsulating his legs, his knees would be knocking together. 

“Hello, I’m twenty-three year old Kim Gyusung-- I MEAN, Kim Sunggyu!” he stutters. The sour sting of bile surges from his stomach to the back of his throat. It takes everything in him not to projectile vomit at the judges table. His nervous laughter is accompanied by the usual snorting, amplified to nightmarish proportions by the microphone. “I’m p-performing a song that has a special meaning to me,” he says. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breaths. 

“I’m the Triple Threat that’ll keep on multiplying!”

Why did he say that? Why did he say something so cheesy and cringe-worthy? He can’t go anywhere without coming off like a goof, can he? Embarrassing himself wasn’t part of his audition plan, which was meticulously outlined in a journal at home. Sunggyu’s strategy for the performance is to stay within his ability. As he takes a deep breath, he reminds himself to keep his performance clean. He can’t let the competition make him desperate. From the moment he’s stepped on stage, he’s been restraining the desire to kick his performance up a notch. It’s tempting to add vocal runs or extra flair in his dance. But, he refrains and sticks to his plan. It’s better to be excellent with the basics than be mediocre – or worse, make a total fool of himself – by trying to reach the level of the other contestants. Even if he doesn’t realize it, his charisma may carry most of his audition.

Sunggyu does a complete bow before the judges, clicks the microphone back onto the stand, and takes a deep breath. He’s going to tackle dancing first. The crowd must be wondering, he supposes, how someone like him planned on dancing. For the first few nights after reading about the competition, he’d wondered too. The official rules never outlined what kind of dance they wanted to see. As long as it classifies as a dance, he can check off that box for the competition requirements. It’s unrealistic for him, both physically and training-wise, to burst into contemporary dance. The competition seemed impossible. He’d mused that if sleight of hand counted as a dance form, then maybe his zero chance of winning could be bumped up to one percent. He’s always been good with his hands -- quick with working wooden puzzles, excellent sleight-of-hand for his magic tricks, and fast to wrap holiday presents at his mother’s shop.

His hands. His hands were the solution. He doesn’t need his legs to dance.

It’s just his style to have a clever answer for everything. 

The music begins, but there’s not a single instrument to be heard. Instead, it’s a careful selection of sound effects he’d spliced together on a friend’s computer. Screeching tires. Scrunched metal. Heavy breathing. Cellphone dial tone. Sirens. All the while, he’s been creating a story using his upper body alone. It’s a form of street dance called tutting, the art of creating illusions through finger and wrist movement. Masters can make it look hypnotic -- like their bones are liquid, like their muscles are silk, and like each movement is a puzzle piece sliding into place. Sunggyu is only moderate in skill, but his background in sleight of hand finally seems useful. His fingers loop and twirl, wrists rotate and snap, and shoulders roll when necessary. He concentrates and is thankful he didn’t choreograph anything beyond his current capabilities. He needs to finish the combinations seamlessly if he doesn’t want to look like a fool. 

Here comes his favorite part. Sunggyu closes his eyes and keeps them shut, but it’s part of the routine rather than nerves. In the backing track, the sirens fade so voices can be heard instead. He’d recorded one of his friends saying “clear” and melded it with another royalty free sound effect: the zap of a defibrillator. Eyes still closed, his hands are clasped over his chest as he introduces another street style. He’s bopping, isolating the chest to move it back and forth while flexing. Every time he hears a zap, he double-bops and stops. There are only three zaps to save time and on the third, the hands locked over his chest unfurl like flower petals. They twirl in a final, spinning illusion and grab the microphone. He hopes that he made it clear his hands were supposed to represent his heart...or should he not have done that? It’s not like he’s supposed to be writing an essay thesis on stage.  

The background transition to the instrumentals are choppy, no better than the average high school student assigned an editing project. But, the ideas and authenticity were still there. A great performer can entertain. A great artist can make people feel -- make them cry until each blink stings, make them belly laugh until they gasp for air, unbottle the emotions they keep inside of them. He might not be able to hit a whistle note, but he could try telling a story with his voice. 

“Someone told me...”

The first few notes wobble. He’s nervous, no matter how meticulously he’s prepared. From the baggy clothes to help mask stiff body movements to the chunky glasses that obscure most of his face, he’s put thought into every detail. Then why is he sinking? 

...To pray, to dream...”

The next few notes wobbles, too. The stakes are high and he’s choking. He’s choking in front of Tiger JK – oh, and it’s so obvious. The performance anxiety happened the morning of the modeling competition as well, but he doesn’t have a bottle of soju to loosen him up this time. All he has is himself. He closes his eyes and thinks about his performances at the spring festival. He thinks of his candid performance of To The Happy World. He thinks of how free he felt – the whirling, soaring, cage-breaking feelings as his worries slipped away. Sunggyu feels the tension in his shoulders melt away. 

Now, his notes are crystal clear. They’re strong and it’s free, just like that day at the festival. He came in with nothing, so nothing is lost if he leaves empty-handed. 

That it will come true no matter what it is Tell me everything, please look and tell me Please tell me to stop.

He knows that feeling. He knows that earth-shattering moment when you realize your parents and teachers lied to you. Nobody is special in this world; your report cards and mother’s report cards don’t mean shit in society. There’s no safety, no guarantees, and no happily ever afters when you’re an adult. Maybe you’re not good as everyone thought you were. Maybe you’re disappointing them. Your teachers promised that you could be astronauts and CEOs, but you end off paying debt by doing laundry for rich kids. Maybe your parents promised to protect you from the monster in your closet, but what about the bank? The big, cold building that seizes your home and let’s you sleep on the streets. You can’t just wish on a star for a home, even if all your childhood movies promised it would come true. 

You know this, yet you keep dreaming. You keep dreaming and dreaming. You wish you could give up. Oh, you would give anything to stamp hope out like a light. Hope is cruel, mocking you as you dig your own grave of fantasy and make-believe.

I only hear rough, heartless sighs I never get to hear a sigh of relief I’m praying and calling for someone to rescue me.

If everything is going to plan, he should be around forty-nine seconds into the audition. Instead of jumping into the chorus, he’s inserted a rap segment that went well with the instrumental. The original song didn’t have a rap portion, so he’d selected one that helped convey his story best. The weight of people’s eyes -- expecting entertainment and ready to thrash him online if they didn’t get it -- fall heavy on him. His hands are sweaty and he grips the microphone a little harder, not wanting it to slip.

Honestly, I’ve never fit in with the world I was always alone It’s been a long time since I’ve forgotten about love I can’t listen to hopeful love songs anymore You and me both We’re just sad clowns, tamed and scripted I’ve come too far I’m coming home I wanna go back to when I was young.

He hopes he delivered the lines the way he wanted to; abandoned and bitter.  Rapping to one of Tiger JK’s own artists was pretty ballsy. He feels like he’s moving into autopilot to keep from breaking apart on stage. Would that piss off the CEO? It’s a quick, twenty second rap to make sure he qualifies all the requirements. But, it was carefully selected to emphasize what he wanted people to feel from his performance. He’s careful that way -- an authentic individual, even if at times he’s written off as a fool or outright crashes and burns.

The rap should clock in at twenty seconds and without wasting time, he dives back into the song. He’s delivering the chorus, then a few closing lines taken from the end of the song that should wrap up the performance well. 

Stand by me in necessary Little by little you get more sick Lalala lalala lalala lalala Don’t cry for me and I’m sorry

He’d only tampered with the lyrics once. In his eyes, it was a good reason: he never wants people to feel sorry or pity him. He just wants to be himself, not a sob story or pity party.

Little by little everything you lost starts to cave in. Someone said that life is like this That things become so dull, no matter what it is Tell me everything, please look at me and tell me Please tell me to wake up.

That was the end.

All that charisma melts into a puddle of awkward as he stares at the judges table, wide-eyed like the weight of what he’s just done finally hit him. What was he doing up here? No, that wasn’t the right question. The question he asks himself is why does he think he belongs up here? What does he do? Should he thank them? He has to do SOMETHING, he’s just standing there holding the microphone. 

Sunggyu isn’t sure if he mumbled a thank you. All he knows is he jammed the microphone back into a stand, backed up like he committed a crime, and ran off stage.

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

rkxminhee:

Buses. There were most uncomfortable places especially when it cramped together with other humans and there was at least one person who had the terrible odour about them. Minhee could usual sleep anywhere but this time was not the case beside at least she had Sunggyu to keep her happy & amused on the way there but she could not wait to get off this bus at last.

The view of the ocean waves got the female’s attention completely hypnotised at the beautiful scenery through the bus window making her yearn to leave this transport vehicle and get out there to play on the beach letting her feet get tickled by the water. Yet a  familiar voice broke her away from her daydream asking about something about suncream. Minhee looked at the other with a raised her brow pondering whether if she should let him put the sunscreen on her body yet she got distracted by the funny description of the sun. He’s such a nerd she thought to herself laughing softly at him.

She wouldn’t let him put sunscreen all over her body that would be strange but she could let him do her back as she couldn’t reach those places and he is pretty harmless too. Minhee let him keep on asking the same question not answering until last minute cause it was pretty funny and cute when looking like a hamster as got all puffy cheeks. She couldn’t help but squish those cheeks showing off her signature eye-smile with a toothy grin, “okay hamster boy. I let you put sunscreen on my back when we are on the beach. I need to stretch my legs. it’s too stuffy in here too.” The female stretched her arms up while bouncing her head left to right feeling her muscles feel so much better before standing up straight brushing down a long pastel pink summer dress with white flowers painted on it.

It was perfect for the beach and this weather as it was nice airy to keep her cool. Besides she had the bikini underneath so could go swimming in the ocean too. It has been too long since she been to the beach this was the perfect opportunity to unwind and regenerate before heading back to the training. Minhee knew she could do this without no watching too as she was private trainee so no one knows who she was too except for her close friends. Minhee made sure she grabbed her bag as it had nice pack lunch for them to eat too for later instead of buying food, homemade is always best anyways.

“Come on gyu! Let’s go! Quicker we are off the bus the better.”

What can he say? He’s always been the youngest in a classroom, surrounded by students at least a year older than himself. As for life at home, he’s the baby of the family for being an only child -- his mother’s prince, her darling, her baby boy. Even if he was laden with responsibilities, he never escapes the cheek pinching and light teasing that comes with being the maknae. “I’m right behind you,” he says.

Sunggyu struggles to keep a straight face as they leave together. Going to the beach and putting sunscreen on Minhee? It’s a dream come true for him. He tightens the straps of his backpack, even if they look goofy clinging onto him so tight, so it won’t throw him off balance. Then, he grips the railing and carefully hobbles down the steps one stair at a time. When he’d first been allowed off crutches, he spent plenty of time accidentally slipping down bus exits like sledding ramps.

“Noona, is it me or has it gotten even warmer since this morning?” he asks. “It was perfect earlier.” He squints in the sunlight in an almost accusatory manner, as if it’s already plotting to thwart him with burns and blisters. “If I go home looking like a lobster...” he sighs. But, they didn’t endure an uncomfortable bus ride just to turn around and go home because of a little heat.

Just like Minhee, he stretches out and twists his back to help melt away any stiffness. Being cramped on the bus for so long locked him up tighter than normal. The sooner they got moving, the sooner he’d feel less like a tin man and more like a human being. “We’ve been sitting down so long, I feel like that robot from the Wizard of Oz,” he groans. “Where should we set up? It can be anywhere you like, Minhee noona!” 

ocean of light ;

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

rkxsunggyu:

rkcheonso:

Soyeon sighs. She knows he means no harm and only nags at her in a way that an elder brother would but in this situation it doesn’t do her hangover any good nor makes her mood calm down. Instead she can only hiss before directing a death glare his way in hopes it’d shut him up. Just in case she spits a few more words his way in explanation. 

“I grew up in Osaka, Japan. I out of all people should know the value of cherry blossoms. I grew up with it and grew out of it. Life’s not some stupid ass fairytale. I don’t pay you to give me lectures, okay?” There is a lingering sense of regret that stings in her chest as she approaches the counter, distracted by the cute display of special spring cups and drinks. “What do you want?” It’s her silent way of apologizing, treating him to a drink of his choosing.

Even if he wanted one of those cups that Soyeon was currently eyeing with a critical eye. Perhaps if she could get him one, getting one for herself wouldn’t seem as bad. “Besides…” She attempted in a slightly less angry tone. “I don’t have a boyfriend anyway.” 

She hadn’t meant the words to sound as sad as they did, leaving her with a lingering awkwardness as it made her feel like she’d exposed herself too much. Staggering to regain her composure and guts, she straightened her shoulders and took a strong stride forward, almost startling the barista behind the counter. Before she knew it, she was barking out her order. An americano with double espresso in one of the shiny pink straw cups that she’d purchase as well.

Then she turned to Sunggyu again, meeting his eye with a lingering sense of insecurity and embarrassment. “So? It’s on me. Choose whatever you want.”

There are so many words -- short-tempered, spiteful words -- hanging on the edge of his tongue. But, he knows that letting his big mouth take charge would do more harm than good. Just as his grandmother always told him, it’s best to: suck it up, buttercup. He needs this paycheck and if he’d simply kept his mouth shut, then there would’ve been no need for his client to get angry. “My mistake,” he says. “I overstepped my bounds.” 

He has a feeling that even if he refused a drink that he’ll be bought one anyway. Sunggyu pauses to think, then walks over to the fridge of bottled drinks. He pulls out the most plain, inexpensive bottle of water available and returns to the counter. 

It’s his way of being petty and he’ll deny it to the grave. Perhaps, it’s one of his worst faults: the stubbornness that help him succeed also makes him hold onto grudges for ages. He seems forgiving most of the time. He is forgiving most of the time. But, that easygoing nature flies out the window once he feels disrespected or his pride takes a hit. It’s not unusual for most people to see him through a rose-colored lens, but he’s not a saint. In fact, he could be a plain, old asshole sometimes. 

He takes a deep breath and wills himself to get over it. Maybe something hurtful from her past makes this a sore subject. Maybe it’s just the hangover talking. Maybe--

“If you don’t have anyone to take you, Jeon sajang-nim...” he says, a bitter tone taking on a word that should be used with respect.

Wow, calling her boss.  That’s cold.

He realizes it too, but the words have already slipped from his mouth. Now, it’s his turn to be a little embarrassed over his carelessness. “Sorry, that was a little mean,” he says. Sunggyu softens up quickly because the last thing he wants to do is make someone cry in public. “I was going to say that I can take you if you want, so you wouldn’t have to walk there alone.”

groceries over flowers;

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

rkxsunggyu:

rkxsunggyu:

nahyunrk:

nahyun’s a relatively boring girl –– really, she is. her hobbies consist of dancing, crying over essays and falling asleep pantless on her couch. so she never expects too much from her life, the girl content with being single and passing her time with unhealthy snacks and odd milkshakes. 

though despite it all it’s hard to ignore romance when valentines day is right around the corner and everything she sees is coloured in red with hearts plastered everywhere. it’s annoying because nahyun is honestly just a little sick and tired of being single. 

okay no –– she isn’t really. it’s just the mood of it all. the fact that her friends are spending less time with her and more time with their boyfriends. it’s saddening because nahyun wants to know the feeling too. “yeah right,” she sighs aloud, putting her hands into her pocket as she takes a turn towards the corner of a street. “it’s not like some boy is gonna pop out of nowhere and beg me to be his girlfriend!” the thought itself is funny because it’s probably impossible.

and then it happens.

she’s approached by a stranger (he’s kinda cute if she must say –– though she can’t really tell with all his movement) begging her to be his girlfriend. her first thought is of course, wait what the fuck? her next, wait… WHAT THE FUCK? 

usually nahyun would pass on these kind of offers, giving the boy a furrowed brow and shrugging him away. but it’s kind of hard to say no when chicken nuggets are involved and when she’d just prayed for a boyfriend literally five seconds ago. seven minutes? good enough.

“okay,” she finds herself saying, a little breathless. “y-yeah sure.”

she looks up and spots a man approaching the both of them and quickly she reaches out to hold the boy’s hand (she doesn’t even know his name!!) and blinks at him. sunggyu –– she catches the mustached man saying.

Out of all the instant boyfriends in the world, he really wasn’t that bad. Sure, he snorts whenever he laughs. Sure, he scrunches his nose when he smiles until bunny lines crease along the sides of his nose. Are those qualities a deal-breaker? It depends on if one thinks a guy who knows the key to a girl’s heart is chicken nuggets is a catch. To his credit, he could also be polite and charming with some old-fashioned charm. 

Their fingers intertwine, his smooth and rather long. It’s a classic case of piano fingers, which is a shame considering he has no clue how to play. Sunggyu gives her hand a little squeeze before leaning closer. “You’re a lifesaver, you know that?” he whispers. “He’s just so obnoxious I could buy all of McDonald’s and it still wouldn’t be enough to pay yo--”

His frantic whispering is severed when his uncle clears his throat, then wags a finger at his nephew like he’s done something devious. “I didn’t know you had it in you, boy!” he says. If Sunggyu didn’t know any better, he would think his uncle half-expected him to reproduce by budding one day. Just divide like a cell -- comes up with clones of himself, no wife or children necessary. His uncle thinks he’s literally a yeast cell. What a confidence booster.  “Where are you two lovebirds off to?”

That has him stumped. Where would they be off to? 

“Well, we were going somewhere special,” he says. Sunggyu swings their hands slightly, ever so subtly buying himself some time. Is he digging himself a hole? He doesn’t even know what street he’s on, to be perfectly honest. “Since it’s lunchtime, you know?” he says. “We were going to go to, uh...”

What’s this girl’s name? 

“We were going to go to honey’s favorite restaurant,” he says. “It’s around here somewhere, right? Ah...sweetheart, did oppa take a wrong turn?” Sunggyu pretty much flung the ball in Nahyun’s court. He hopes that she’s more familiar with the eateries than he is. He prays that whatever she chooses is affordable; he’s only got a few won in his pocket and a Ring Pop. 

7 minute girlfriend; nahyun

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

ocean of light ;

@rkxminhee

After enduring two hours cramped on buses, the duo were restless and ready to stretch their legs. The ocean waves, smooth white sand, and mineral mud baths would be their playground after one more stop. Sunggyu hums -- fortunately, not too off-key -- as he fiddles with a tube of sunscreen. If he doesn’t remember to reapply, he’ll be shedding skin like a lizard the next day. Not only does he burn, but he freckles all over if left in the sun for more than a few minutes. He still has a smattering of freckles on his shoulders from a nasty childhood burn. It’s not ideal, but the ghostly sunscreen cast is better than hearing his doctor scold him about protection. 

“Noona, shall I put sunscreen on you?” he says. He holds up the orange tube, taps it with his fingers, and flicks his wrist. It’s like the tube’s come alive, quickly dancing his way up to her. He’s such a nerd. His cheesy smile and raised eyebrows are as playful as his voice, singsonging like he’s but a child. Sunggyu would be lying if he denied having at least the tiniest crush on Minhee. He knows it’s never going to happen. But, is there a law against dreaming?

“Our stop is soon,” he says. “We shouldn’t waste time when there’s a fireball of death in the sky.” As if to emphasize, he squirts a dollop of sunscreen into his hands and slathers them down his arms. With the springtime weather, he can pass with short sleeves and long pants. But, he’s not sure what he’ll do once the summer heatwaves hit. The young man doesn’t want to wear shorts, but his alternative is melting into a puddle. He already attracts enough attention without all the reddish-purple scars still healing from the accident. The doctors told him that with deep ones like those, it’ll take at least twelve months to fade if he treats his legs gently. So, that means they definitely aren’t going to be gone by summer.

The bus screeches and hisses at their stop. “Noona? Noona? Nooonaaaaa, can I still put sunscreen on you when we get off? To protect your skin, you know?” he says. “If you don’t want to shed an exoskeleton tomorrow, sunscreen is important.” His cheeks puff up when he pouts, making him look more like a freshman in highschool than someone who just turned twenty-three. 

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

rkxsunggyu:

rkxminhee:

 @rksxngji &  @rkxsunggyu​ 

order: minhee - sunggyu  - jieun

it’s time to let loose for one night, no one to tell them to sing in a tune but only sing to have fun with no lessons allowed even though there was one teacher with them in this karaoke night which was minhee & sunggyu’s singing teacher yet great friend too. it would be the perfect trio to take over the noraebang and have great time hopefully these three won’t break the microphone ( well maybe one person in particular might, cough sunggyu cough )

 the female turns up at a little bit earlier than others to make sure everything prepared and their room was booked because last time she came here, she did have a small accident that there was no room available for them to sing making the night ruined. she even paid for the room before any of the others could question her about it or offer to pay, this was minhee’s treat and she will fight them if they disapprove of her generous act beside she had little more money to spend. 

the brunette texted her friends wondering how far away was they and plus the room number on where they will be owning the mic while shaking the tambourines with her back to the entrance making her way to the karaoke room. 

[text; jieunnie, gyuu]

- I’m here already.

- We got room number 4!

- I can’t wait to sing tonight,  ㅎㅎㅎ

Sunggyu LOVES karaoke. But, not many people enjoy actually taking him out for a karaoke night. There are very few people in the world willing to endure his off-key, howling into a microphone. As he pulls out his phone, he muses that paying for drinks might make the night less of an ear-bleeding experience for his friends. 

For someone who usually lacks self-confidence, all it takes is a noraebang to unleash a competitive monster. Perhaps, it’s because nobody expects perfection in front of a karaoke machine. Maybe the drinks give him a much needed ego boost. Either way, he instantly jumps from the usual “i’m not very good at singing” to “give me that microphone, i’m gonna hit that whistle tone even if it kills me”.

Sunggyu’s fingers tap against the keypad as he walks, slowly hobbling to the end of the hall. He’s dressed casually tonight in nicer clothes -- no holes or frayed threads to be seen. It’s all thanks to new paychecks that he isn’t running around Seoul with holes in his sneakers. The shoes he’s wearing are new, squeaking like all new sneakers do when being broken in. 

[text; minhee noona, jieun sunbae]

{ tortoise is coming ㅋㅋㅋ { you’ll probably hear me before you see me

nightingales si-cream.

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

one jump ahead ;

@rksinb​

Sunggyu is clumsy; he was clumsy even before the accident, but now his ungainly movements are amplified. His breathing comes hot and labored, released in quick puffs out of his mouth. As for his gait, it’s quite the cumbersome hobble down the road. It’s to be expected, however, when you’ve been stitched together with metal screws and bolts. It’s normally not this obvious that he has difficulty getting around. But come most evenings, he’s overworked himself into exhaustion. Swollen knees and aching spine simply give out on him, no matter how much willpower he possesses. Someone like this makes the perfect scapegoat.

The sidewalks get crowded enough without his slow pace causing traffic. People bump into him all the time and a slight bump of shoulders knocks him into a woman. She’s fancy rich -- nice perm, designer purse, designer shoes to match the purse, name brand jacket, and real gemstone jewelry. He’s oblivious to how smoothly someone siphoned the woman’s wallet from her purse. 

Even if she seems snooty about being bumped into, he apologizes and hurries down the sidewalk. He doesn’t think much of the accident. His own worries are too prominent. “I need to pick up the pace,” he mumbles. “A tortoise could make it home before sundown.” 

But, the woman was suspicious of him. Something felt off and to her, the only change had been bumping into the boy in knee braces. She checks her purse and not only is the leather slashed, but her wallet is gone. Who could blame her for thinking Sunggyu is the culprit? The woman runs after him, shouting that her wallet “doesn’t belong to you”. Sunggyu doesn’t even realize that she’s talking to him until phones start being pulled out to record his every move. The woman gets in front of him and demands her wallet back. It has her money, her credit cards, her identify information, and most important of all: her kids’ graduation photos. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks. His palms feel hot and itchy. His heart? It’s thudding so fast he feels like his own pulse will knock him over. The woman shows him the hole in her purse and says that he slashed it when they bumped into each other. “I didn’t slash your purse,” he says, struggling to remain calm. Perhaps, his nervousness could be mistaken for guilt. 

“You took what isn’t yours, so I’m asking nicely that you give it back,” she says. “Those are the only copies I have of those photos.” “I’m sorry, but I didn’t take your stuff.” “If you don’t give it back, I will call the police.” “I said, I didn’t take it! You could strip me naked and you wouldn’t find your stupid wallet,” he snaps. 

He didn’t mean to get snappy with her, but his big mouth changes the course of the argument. The woman tugs on his backpack to go through his things -- to find her missing belongings, so she thinks. “Thief! Thief! Thief!” she says. “You can’t just take someone’s wallet! Even beggars have more dignity than that.”

“I don’t beg.”

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

Some people see you broken and decide that’s all there is to you. Don’t let their two dimensional perspective seep into all the parts or you that breathe resilience and strength.

Nikita Gill (via meanwhilepoetry)

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

Cherry Blossom Festival Stage | Beautiful by Monsta X 🌸 Performers: @rkjseph, @kingxrk, @rkfinn, @jihoonrk, @rkxhaneul, @rkseungyoun Part: Wonho

{ He can’t lie: the opportunity to take a role with more lines had been extremely tempting. 

Who doesn’t want to be the center? But he knows that he’s not the most consistent or stable vocalist, even if classes at the Nightingale transformed his screeching into something more bearable. He likes learning all the technical terms -- light lyric tenor, supported chest voice down to D3s, all hell breaks lose past a G#4. 

Okay, he’ll admit that last one isn’t the technical term. The technical term is much, much nicer sounding. But that’s basically what it means.

As a beginning vocalist -- one very below average one at that -- his concentration isn’t on fancy runs or ornamentation. He just needs to keep his notes clean and supported. It’s turned out to be much harder than he thought. However, the regular practice stopped his grandmother from making a “no singing indoors”

He’s going to have eight lines in the song. They’re simple enough that he should be able to squeeze by in a performance, so long as he doesn’t forget the basics. Ever since he’d officially received his lines, not a moment goes by without him practicing. But eight lines means he has eight chances to impress and eight chances to mess up. For the sake of the team, his notes have to count. He can’t let them down -- or worse, embarrass them. }

The performance starts before he’s even ready and he opens his mouth, a millisecond away from blurting out his lines and wrecking the whole performance from the start. Thank LORD he caught himself before it happened. But, now he’s standing there with a gaping mouth like he’s never seen a microphone stand before. 

He needs to play it off. Cover it up like he planned on looking like a fish. Uh.

He uses his thumb to point at Matthew, like he’s in shock and disbelief at how cool the guy is. There was a time where he really did walk around looking at him like that, years ago when they met in his mother’s shop and he recognized Matthew from television. But, time and friendship quickly transformed the worship into subdued admiration. Still, he doesn’t think he knows anybody as naturally cool as Matt. 

He can’t help but start bobbing along as Matt and Taejo breeze through -- at least, in his opinion! -- through the opening lines like it was their destiny to perform the song. Holy shit, they were cool. His part is coming up. It’s coming up fast. 

Since he dances like Pinocchio, he doesn’t dare try to dance.  Literally, his instructions are to act like he’s making love to the microphone stand.

His legs are out of commission, held up by metal braces so he doesn’t crumple to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings, so he needs to engage from the waist up. For once, enjoying card tricks and sleight of hand has a practical use. Sunggyu is used to redirecting someone’s attention using only his hands and goofy smile. 

It’s like his little moment with the microphone stand is a full-body card trick.  Except instead of cards, he has to imagine like... Someone’s thigh.

“ I can only live if you’re here Every day, every night I can feel you “

Sunggyu is so excited his notes were supported and clean, he fist pumps and almost knocks over the microphone stand he just finished fondling. It’s a euphoric feeling that blurs out the crowd, letting him do his goofy bobbing along like he’s rocking out in the shower. 

“ I can only live if you’re here Every day, every night I can feel you “

There was a slightly questionable note on every night, but nobody’s ears were bleeding. He’s more than halfway finished with his part. Sunggyu wishes that they could’ve been allowed to sing the song again; he’s so concentrated on hitting the notes that he’s not thinking about the meaning. But, at least he’s loosening up and getting more comfortable. He has two lines to redeem himself. He has two lines to give it his best shot.

“ I know you’re more beautiful when I only look “

Jealousy. Bitterness. Nostalgia. Remorse. ( He thinks about that one time his mom ate his last slice of birthday cake. )

“ My one and only baby “

Soft. Tender. Lingering. ( He thinks about something precious and irreplaceable: his family, how he let them down, how he’s not going to let them down anymore. )

Eight lines and out of all of them, he thinks the last one is his best. Maybe it’s possible that someone like him can get better if he takes life one step at a time. If he can walk after the crash, then he sure as hell can learn to sing. He’s going to learn. He’s going to keep learning. He’ll message the Nightingale and tell them that he’s changed his mind about quitting his lessons.

As he looks over his teammates, he smiles. 

And he thinks to himself: “someday, i’m going to be cool just like them.”  And he adds an afterthought: “next time, i’ll make sure my eight lines are even better.”