#ft. junyeong;

[rksona]

★ — street performance ;

🎼 bad love — seohyun sui

there were about a million and one things that she shouldn’t be doing at this point, and taking time out of her day to put on a street performance had to be pretty high on the list. from an outside point of view, it made much more sense for dawon to efficiently utilize her time by doing something productive, such as practicing for the upcoming evaluation (that she still lacked confidence in) or having that much-needed discussion with junyeong about whether or not she should risk her spot in nova by participating in the royal survival show.

all things considering, however, she doesn’t blame herself for needing a distraction. her mind had taken it upon itself to wander lately, and, as usual, it seemed insistent on dwelling on the things that she didn’t want to think about. hoseok was gone, finally back on his own two feet and ready to move out, leaving dawon alone once again. she doesn’t blame him, though, not really—she has no right to. they never agreed to be roommates, after all; from the very beginning, it was only a matter of time before he’d be ready to leave.

even now, after several months had come and gone, her thoughts still remained fixated on yoo jiae. she missed her, perhaps even more now than she had several months ago. she thinks it’s foolish, remaining so brokenhearted over a girl that she never had the chance to confess to—but she can’t help it. maybe she’d have more closure if she had confessed only to be rejected, she thinks, but it’s far too late now. everything was over and done with, and jiae was never coming back, no matter how much dawon longed for her.

dawon hesitates, lightly chewing on her lower lip as she readjusted the microphone stand for what felt like the millionth time. she’s not entirely sure why she’s so hesitant to proceed, though she assumes it has something to do with the fact that she knows that she should be using her time for something else entirely. as if on cue, junyeong gives her a reassuring nod, silently reminding her that she wasn’t here for nova or royal or anyone else—she was here to have fun doing what she loves most: singing.

junyeong starts the music, having taken it upon himself to prepare everything for the performance aside from the vocals. he’d arranged everything, including the location. dawon was grateful for his contribution, as she’s almost certain that none of this would have been possible without him and his constant encouragement. she simply wouldn’t have taken the time to focus on anything that wasn’t essential to her training, considering just how dire it had felt to her lately.

너의 진한 향수로 누군가의 흔적을 감추고 태연히 웃어 늦은 밤 내게 또 전활 해 넌 잘 자라면서 어설픈 연기를 해 내 앞에서 모른 척 아닌 척 계속 날 속이고 있잖아

she gently swayed to the backing track as she prepared to sing, her lips forming a faint smile as she attempts to enjoy herself. the chance to perform out in the open was relaxing, in a way; especially when she didn’t have to constantly worry about being evaluated. she didn’t bother to prepare a choreography for the performance, figuring that she’d have much better luck if she were to simply focus on her vocals, considering the performance was for her own enjoyment more than anything else. this was her element, this was where she thrived.

My love is true, my love is you 새빨간 너의 그 거짓말 다 알고 있지 난 Bad love is true, bad love is you 내게서 멀어져 가 버려 날 흔들지는 마

the song was one of her favorites. sui was by far one of her favorite artists and greatest inspirations; dawon wished that she could be more like her. not only did she have a pleasant voice, but dawon was a fan of her dancing, charms, and creativity as well—she was just so talented. dawon hoped to one day be seen in the same light, though she doesn’t intend to get her hopes up. even if she were to debut, she doubts that she’d ever become so successful.

Nananananana nananananana Nananananana nanananana

the entire performance provided her with a much-needed sense of freedom, an escape from the day-to-day trials and tribulations of nova. for the first time in nearly a year, it felt like she could finally perform for herself. there were no special requirements asked of her, there was no one to prove her worth to; she could finally lose herself in the music, and there was nothing that could hold her back.

너의 붉은 입술이 말해 난 너뿐이야 믿어 줘 하지만 니 눈빛은 흔들려 식어 버린 니 사랑은 끝까지 내게 거짓을 말했지 넌 항상 멋진 척 좋은 척 계속 날 속이고 있잖아

as much as she fantasized the idea of singing in the rain as a kid, dawon’s grateful for the pleasant weather. she wasn’t all that eager to perform in extreme heat or rain after what happened last month, especially when she took into consideration the fact that her ankle still ached from time to time. maybe it was all in her head, maybe it wasn’t; in any case, however, the weather only serves to improve her mood that much more.

My love is true, my love is you 새빨간 너의 그 거짓말 다 알고 있지 난 Bad love is true, bad love is you 내게서 멀어져 가 버려 날 흔들지는 마

there was hardly a crowd, but that didn’t matter. dawon hadn’t told anyone that she was coming, and she had specifically told junyeong that she’d like to attract as little attention as possible. there was at least one smiling face that had decided to stick around, and that one alone was more than enough to convince dawon that this had all been worth it. junyeong appeared to be having a good time as well, which only convinced her further.

My love is true 그 한마디 너무 쉽게 내뱉었지 My love is you 내 맘속을 찢어 버린 너란 사랑 Yeah yeah yeah yeah

it’s her favorite part of the song, and easily the most difficult. she’s practiced it what felt like countless times in her apartment alone, though it was always different once she was out in the real world. it only makes her that much more grateful that she hadn’t insisted on preparing a choreography to go with it; the more she can focus on her vocal stability, the better. while not even she would deny her talents as a vocalist, she wasn’t perfect—no one was.

Nananananana nanananana

as apprehensive as she’d initially felt, dawon really needed this. while it was true that she had enjoyed many of the performances that she’d taken part in, it was easy for her to lose sight of the real reason she was doing it all. as a child, she had performed simply because it was what she loved to do. lately, however, it felt as though she was performing because it was something that she had to do.

My love is true, my love is you 새까만 너의 그 못된 말 더 듣��� 싫어 난 Bad love is true, bad love is you 제발 좀 떨어져 가 버려 날 붙잡지는 마

this one performance wouldn’t be some magic solution to each of her problems, she knew. her heart remained fixated on yoo jiae, despite dawon’s many attempts to forget her and move on. while she enjoyed this performance, she doesn’t believe for a single moment that everything would be different from here on out. something had to change, but whether or not that something lied with the royal survival show, dawon had no idea.

Nananananana nananananana Nananananana nanananana Bad love is true Nananananana nananananana Nananananana nanananana

the song ends, far sooner than dawon would have liked. maybe she’d find time in her busy schedule to do something like this again soon, though she genuinely doubts it. it was only a matter of minutes before she’d find her mind wandering to topics that she deemed undesirable and saddening once more, so she tries to enjoy every second of the temporary peace while it lasts.

[rksona]

★ — another world ;

september 3rd, 2017.

dawon sucked in a deep breath, a subtle smile on her lips as she continued to pack her things. it was difficult to imagine that she was packing for something that could potentially last thirteen weeks, meaning that she certainly did not want to under-pack. while she remained terrified of what the near future would bring, it was safe to say that packing gave her something to focus on; it was a healthy (and productive) distraction from each of her troubles.

she’s relieved, at least, that she found someone to watch over her apartment while she’s gone. hoseok had seemed willing enough to lend a helping hand, though dawon hopes that it wouldn’t inconvenience him. maybe he’d enjoy spending some time with meeko, as the two always seemed to enjoy each other’s company. dawon trusted that he wouldn’t make a mess of the place (she can only assume that he’d be too scared to), so she knows that she’s leaving her home is in good hands.

“i can’t believe i won’t be seeing you for thirteen weeks,” junyeong chimed in, widely grinning in dawon’s direction. he had taken it upon himself to offer a helping hand over the days that dawon had to prepare, and he seemed determined to spend as much time with her as possible before it was finally time for the show to begin. “or that you’re gonna be famous. that’s like... our dream come true. it’s going to be surreal, right?”

“it’s only thirteen weeks if i make it,” dawon corrected him, softly chuckling. “but maybe i’ll end up faking sick just to get out of it, just so i can come home and visit you.” she affectionately ruffled the boy’s already unkempt hair, and he did nothing to fight it. “but, i don’t know... maybe. i’m not if i share your confidence that fame is going to come that easily, but it’s a nice thought. besides, if i lose, i’ll just fade right back into obscurity anyway.”

“‘if i make it’,” junyeong replied in a mocking tone, doing his best to imitate that one internet meme of spongebob that he seemed to love so much. “of course you’ll make it, don’t sell yourself short. but... if you do throw the opportunity away to fake sick and to visit me, do know that i’ll probably cry. you’ve been warned.” more light laughter escaped him, an unwavering grin present on his lips. “if you say so. it’s exposure, in any case. besides, if you do fade into obscurity afterward, that’s nova’s fault—not yours.”

“we’ll just have to wait and see then, won’t we?” she asked, more laughter spilling from her lips. dawon knows that she could never win this type of argument with junyeong, so she just lets it go. “but... you have my word that i won’t fake sick, then.” she paused, thinking for a moment before laughing once more. “unless i’m the first to be eliminated—then i’m definitely using that as my excuse... and you’ll go along with it. deal?”

“that’s right,” he confirmed, slightly nodding his head as he spoke. “we’ll just have to wait and see that i’m right.” his lips form a smug smile, and, once again, dawon knows that it’s best not to argue with him (that doesn’t stop her from playfully elbowing him, though). “but... fine, whatever helps you sleep at night. i already know that you’re not going to be eliminated first, but, if it gives you peace of mind, then... yeah, i promise to go along with it.”

“good,” she quickly replied, briefly nodding her head. “i’m glad that’s settled, then.” she’s unable to stop smiling as she continues packing her things, not wanting to forget a single thing that she could come to miss. several minutes pass as the two cousins enjoy the remainder of their time together, laughter in no short supply between the two of them. out of everything that she was leaving behind, dawon knew that she’d miss junyeong the most.

“dawon?” junyeong called out to her to grab her attention, a warm, hopeful smile gracing his features. although it was now time for the both of them to leave, the two of them shared a sense of peace and joy. even if they are apart, dawon is confident that she’ll feel junyeong’s love and support the entire time.

“yeah?”

“good luck. i believe in you, remember that.”

a soft, lighthearted laugh escaped her just then as she gave her cousin one last hug. “thank you, junyeong.” she lingered for a short while, not wanting to end this moment so soon. she was going to miss him more than anything else in the world. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

[rksona]

★ — night at the zoo ;

she hated zoos. her grandfather had never been very fond of them, waving them off as being nothing more than prisons; bright, lively prisons—but prisons all the same. normally, she would have ignored the opportunity to visit the zoo in the nighttime, especially considering the fact that she hardly saw the appeal in visiting during the day. junyeong, however, had not been as eager to let it pass by so easily. he claimed that it would be a nice experience for the both of them, though dawon believed that at least half of his statement (perhaps more) was extremely exaggerated.

“i’m only here because i love you,” she whispered in a hushed tone, praying that she wouldn’t be overheard. most people seemed to love the zoo, for whatever reason, and dawon held no intention to get on their bad side. not to mention the fact that they were asked not to frighten the animals, during their attempts to rest or otherwise, and dawon was more than happy to oblige. the animals deserved to live peacefully, after all; it’d be rather cruel to jeopardize that.

“really? the animals didn’t appeal to you at all?” the boy questioned, a hint of genuine surprise in his tone. “well damn. i’m glad that you care. i do think that you’ll have more fun than you expect, though.” he glanced around them, readjusting his glasses before attempting to get a better view of an enclosure just ahead of them. “just give it a bit of time, alright? even if you don’t like the zoo, you’ll at least have fun hanging out with me.”

“that’s true.” he definitely made a good point. junyeong was her best friend, the one person she could always count on; it was only fair that she should dedicate one evening to doing something that he’s bound to enjoy. “so long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.” truthfully, she’d suffer any level of dissatisfaction so long as it meant that junyeong was having a good time. even now, several years later, she still felt like she owed him everything.

“thank you, dawon.” there’s genuine sincerity in his voice, despite the fact that dawon felt that there was no thanks necessary. she was going outside of her comfort zone, sure; but it was for a good cause, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat. “it really does mean a lot that you’d do this, all things considering. you have a lot on your mind this month, do you not?”

“i do,” she replied softly, rubbing the back of her neck out of habit. there was so much to think about, so much to do; dawon has so many big choices to make, yet it seemed as though her time was quickly slipping through her fingers. “but i can handle it.”

“mm, i don’t doubt it. but i do believe our definitions of ‘handling it’ are diametrically opposed, so don’t think you’re going to make any life-changing decisions without me.” despite the laughter that followed, once again, he had a point. dawon always did have a bad habit of hastily making big decisions without going to her cousin for advice, and, more often than not, they always seemed to take a toll on her.

“okay, that’s fair. i’ve earned that much.”

“that’s right. now, mind if we move somewhere else? this area smells... unpleasant.”

[rksona]

★ — july evaluation, 2017 ;

🎼 btd — rainism — one more time

“i think i’m literally going to die.”

as dawon watched the videos alongside her cousin for what felt like the millionth time, she can’t help but wonder if one month would even be enough to prepare. to put it mildly, dancing was not dawon’s forte. normally, she’d feel fine—even if she were to make a few mistakes here and there, at least she’d have her vocals to fall back on; a way to show everyone that she wasn’t completely useless. but, this time? there would be no vocals; she’d have to successfully carry her weight relying on dance alone.

“a year ago? maybe. okay, definitely.” soft, lighthearted laughter spilled out of junyeong, his features making it evident that he was amused. “now, though?” he examined dawon for a moment, and it appeared as though he were trying to reach a solid conclusion. “no, no. i don’t think so. you’ve improved a lot, dawon; a lot more than you realize. i think, with a lot of practice, you might be able to pull something like this off.”

well, that was reassuring. “you really think so?” she questioned, eyes glued to the computer screen. she considered her cousin’s words for a moment, wondering if she truly could keep up with the choreography in myname’s btd. for a moment, she almost allows herself to believe it—but the illusion faded the moment she remembered the iconic scorpion dance. “i don’t know, junyeong—it’d take a lot of practice. too much, i think. maybe i could pull it off if i had, say, an entire year to prepare—but i really don’t have that kind of time.”

“come on, how hard could it be?” he asked, taking control of the computer before entering another search. he found a video that played the particular move on a loop, which he immediately opened, light chuckles bubbling up from within him. “it’s amazing what kind of videos people tend to make, isn’t it? still, i guess we’re lucky—this makes our job considerably easier, considering that we won’t have to constantly rewind the video just to watch the same dance move over again.”

watching the video only caused dawon’s doubt to increase, leaving an undesirable feeling of discomfort deep in the pit of her stomach. she was afraid she’d make a mistake—afraid that she wasn’t good enough—afraid that she’d let her teammates down. she had come so far since joining nova last august, that was undeniable, but she wasn’t sure that she had come far enough. she was afraid that all of her hard work had been for nothing. afraid that, at the end of the day, she was still the same girl with two left feet that she had been at the very beginning.

“no, i won’t be able to do it—i can’t.” she felt her heartbeat steadily increasing, her chest feeling as though it were tightening. why? why now, did she find herself feeling so afraid? she had overcome many difficulties before, so why should she assume that this would be any different? she wanted nothing more than to run away and hide, though, deep down, she knew that it wasn’t an option. no matter how much she wanted to escape it, she knows better than to assume that she could ever avoid something like this. if she didn’t force herself to go through with it, junyeong certainly would.

“you can’t?” the boy questioned in return. “oh. well, i’m not too proud to admit that i hadn’t considered that.” he stared at her for a prolonged moment, a subtle frown on his lips. “well, if you can’t do it, then i suppose there’s no need in trying. i’m sure that you also couldn’t get signed to a place like nova entertainment, right?” he paused, a momentary silence falling over them. “of course not. but you did, and look at you now. enough with that quitter attitude of yours, dawon—it doesn’t suit you, not at all.”

junyeong was right, as usual. dawon drew in a deep breath, allowing her eyes to close. “you’re right, i know that you’re right,” she replied, her tone soft and unsure. “but it just feels so scary. i’ve gone through so much as a trainee, and i’ve performed several times. but, before, i’ve always had my voice to get me through. i thought that, even if i happened to mess up with the dance, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad so long as i had sung well enough—so long as i had my voice as my saving grace. but this time, i don’t have that to fall back on. if i make a mistake, that’s it, that’s the end—i’ll have messed up my entire performance.”

the boy placed a hand on her shoulder just then, doing his best to comfort her. “personally, i’d rather mess up on a performance rather than show my teammates that i couldn’t even bother to try. that wouldn’t reflect well on you.” he paused just then, contemplating what to say next. “besides, i know you. when you’re doing something that you’re passionate about, you give it your all. no matter how difficult the situation is, even when you’re faced with impossible odds, you adapt to it. that’s something that i admire about you, dawon. and believe me when i tell you that you can adapt to this, because, yes, you’re that badass.”

dawon pondered her cousin’s words for a moment, eyes flickering open as her lips formed a faint yet warm smile. “thank you, i appreciate you saying that.” adapt or die, she thought to herself, more so for a reminder than anything else. “i’m still doubtful. but i have to try, right?” she asked, drumming her fingers on her lap as she spoke. “otherwise i’m not sure how i’d work up the courage to face the other girls again. they’re counting on me.” while she still doesn’t believe in herself, dawon knows that she can’t afford to let the nova girls down, for more than one reason. “i’ll try my best,” she promised.

“and that’s all i can ask of you.”

july 29th, in an outdoor mall in hongdae ;

despite dawon’s best wishes, the heat refused to let up. it was unrelenting—unyielding—unforgiving, a constant thorn in her side from the moment they had set foot in the outdoor mall. what had she and her fellow trainees done to deserve such punishment? once upon a time, she had fantasized what it’d be like to put on a dance performance to a song like btd; but now it was proving to be much more exciting in theory rather than practice.

it didn’t help that each moment was spent worrying about how the other trainees were handling the heat. without proper hydration and rest, it’s easy to imagine that someone could actually get hurt performing in these conditions. at the end of the day, they were all in this together; if one of them were to suffer, they all suffered. maybe it was wishful thinking to believe that they could all make it through something like this, but dawon had faith in her team.

the only thing worse than the heat was the humidity. every inch of dawon’s body to felt hot and sticky as her clothes began to stick to her skin, drenched in sweat. one of the only things that kept her going was the thought of a nice, refreshing shower that would save her at the end of the day; if she even managed to live that long. while dawon liked to believe that she had pretty decent stamina, given just how much time she devoted to her workout routines, this was certainly taking things to an entirely new level.

the sun was finally beginning to set, and, for a moment, dawon thought that things were finally going to get better. the rain certainly proved her wrong. at first, she believed the water droplets to be nothing more than her own sweat; annoying, but ultimately nothing to worry about. when they continued to fall, however, she quickly learned that they were falling from the sky. and, knowing nova, they’d still be made to perform in these new conditions.

for a while, things were fine; difficult, but ultimately fine. as she performed, however, dawon was distracted, her mind was somewhere else entirely. she couldn’t stop thinking about the trainees who had been abruptly taken to the hospital, or the fact that her heart felt as though it were going to beat out of her chest due to the constant fear that refused to subside. she wasn’t in her element, and nothing felt right.

the rain only seemed to add a thousand new challenges to something that was already exceedingly difficult. every so often, she would fall to her knees, the pain from each fall making it that much harder to carry on. she tried to find junyeong’s face in the crowd, hoping that seeing him would somehow offer her the comfort that he so often provided. he was nowhere to be seen, and dawon was scared. i’m a badass, i can do this, she thought to herself, hoping that the words would offer her the same reassurance they had several months ago during her first evaluation.

i can do this.

...

i can’t do this.

one minor misstep was all it had taken to send dawon crashing down. perhaps she could have managed to recover from it had the stage not been slick with rain, but, sadly, she would never know. her ankle took the brunt of the fall, and she was almost certain that she had twisted it in her attempts to remain steady. for a moment, the pain was unbearable, and she wanted nothing more than to remain there on the cold, wet ground until it was all over.

it was only then that she found junyeong in the crowd. his features made it evident that he was concerned, and rightfully so; dawon knew that she’d be worried, too. would he be ashamed of her? would he be disappointed that she hadn’t even bothered to try recovering from such an injury? no, he wasn’t that type of person, he would understand. but, no, dawon wouldn’t let him down—she couldn’t.

i know you. when you’re doing something that you’re passionate about, you give it your all.

dawon placed her hands on the ground in front of her, pushing herself up.

no matter how difficult the situation is, even when you’re faced with impossible odds, you adapt to it.

she fought through the pain as she put weight back on her feet, struggling to stand, desperate to carry on.

that’s something that i admire about you, dawon. and believe me when i tell you that you can adapt to this, because, yes, you’re that badass.

the pain was excruciating, burning like hot fire. she was trying not to think about, trying to make it through the performance at any cost. there was no way she justify giving up now. even if others accepted it, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. hell, she wasn’t even sure that she could forgive herself for making the mistake in the first place. it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, and it definitely wasn’t easy—but there was no other way, she had to do this. she had to persevere, she had to adapt or die.

the pain was too much to handle. for a moment, she closed her eyes, wincing as tears trickled down her cheeks. she was grateful for the rain, grateful that her fellow trainees couldn’t see her in her moment of weakness. she was grateful that, so long as she forced a smile, the audience might actually think that everything was okay. that maybe, so long as they didn’t focus on her occasional limping or inability to successfully carry out the choreography, they would think that nothing was wrong with her—that she wasn’t in pain.

and suddenly, it was finally over.

she had made it.

she could finally go home.

junyeong’s mother was gracious enough to let dawon stay the night, and she was grateful for it. she needed to talk to junyeong about what had happened; he was the only one who always knew just what to say. on the car ride home, she finally allowed herself to submit to the pain—finally allowed herself to suffer in peace, light sobs echoing from within her as she abandoned all hope of keeping it together.

she felt weak. she felt afraid.

but she had survived. she had endured the pain.

so dawon also felt strong.

[rksona]

— the potato snatcher ;

saturday.

“you know, when your mom told me to talk you into going outside to enjoy the springtime, i doubt that this was anything close to what she had in mind.” it felt as though an eternity had passed since the last time dawon had taken the time to play oblivion, and to play again almost felt like returning home to an old friend. just how many of dawon’s other hobbies has nova managed to take away by now? it wasn’t necessarily their fault, given that it was her choice that she should devote every minute of her free time to practicing, but it was still worth wondering.

“you don’t give her enough credit, dawon. she knows you. and she knows me, too.” he’s watching intently as dawon plays, undoubtedly just waiting for the opportunity to share advice with his cousin—but she was determined to not give him that opportunity. “she was probably just being hopeful when she sent you up here, even if she knew that something like this would happen.”

“that’s true. i guess that would explain why she hasn’t come up here to check on us yet.” as much as dawon’s aunt loved for junyeong to go out for fresh air, even she appreciates just how much fun the cousins have when they’re doing nothing but playing video games. it had practically become a part of their daily routine three years ago, and it only felt right that they should keep it up now.

“yeah, i doubt she has a problem with it. she’s probably downstairs watching the tv, so she wouldn’t even have room to complain,” he continues with a chuckle. “besides, cyrodiil resembles the springtime, don’t you think? and i don’t even have to deal with the pollen this way... i just get to enjoy the view.” while the graphics may not be as advanced in the predecessor to skyrim, the game was beautiful nonetheless. “plus, i doubt i’d be able to watch you search for the potato snatcher if we were outside.”

hearty laughter falls from her lips as she shakes her head, though she doesn’t dare avert her eyes from the screen, not even for a single moment. “no, or at least, i’d hope not. especially since it turns out to be an ogre, right? or was it a troll?” she pauses for a brief moment, though she speaks up quickly enough so that her cousin doesn’t have the chance to answer. “either way, i wouldn’t want to tussle with either one out in the real world.”

“yeah, it’s an ogre.” he confirms, a few more laughs rising from within him. “you know, i almost feel bad for him. i would’ve wanted to take s'jirra’s jumbo potatoes too.” junyeong pauses, acting as if he’s giving the situation deep thought. “i just have one quick question, dawon... would you be so willing to go after the ogre if it was shrek? he’s on ogre too, you know. do you think he likes jumbo potatoes?”

“what?” she questions in response, more genuine laughter bubbling up from within her. “why are you even bringing up shrek? what reason do you have?” she shakes her head in humorous disbelief, though she decides that it would only be fair if she answers him. “but to answer your question, yes. if shrek were willing to steal jumbo potatoes from s’jirra, i’d be more than willing to bring him to justice.”

“but what if he’s like jean valjean? the potatoes are for bread, you know. and jean valjean stole bread. where’s your heart? maybe shrek just wants to feed his family, dawon! did you ever consider that?” it’s a pleasant sound as their combined laughter fills the air, the smiles on both of their faces wider than they’d been all week. it wasn’t even that funny, yet it felt as though junyeong had just told the greatest joke of all time.

“don’t bring jean valjean into this!” she argues with more laughter. “he doesn’t deserve this treatment. and, while we’re at it, let’s leave shrek out of it too! i’d love nothing more than to slay this ogre in peace, thank you. no need to make me feel attached to it.” as if on cue, her character finally stumbles upon the culprit, and she takes to battling it almost immediately.

“but it’s the confrontation all over again, dawon! you can’t expect me not to bring jean valjean into this when the resemblances in the two stories are practically uncanny. you’re filling in for javert, with the ogre taking the place of jean valjean! not even you can find a way to argue with it. just look at the facts, dawon. it’s not too hard to see the truth, especially with me shining a spotlight on it.”

“you’d really compare that thing to jean valjean? come on, junyeong, i’d expect you to compare it to shrek, but i thought you were better than that.” her cousin is laughing, and, even as dawon speaks, she’s forced to hold back laughter of her own. “besides, this is nothing like the confrontation. the stories are completely different!”

“but how can you be so sure? you’ve already killed the thing! now we’ll never figure any of it out. way to go.” he puts on a faux look of disappointment, crossing his arms in an attempt to make it appear even more believable. “loot your jumbo potatoes and be done with it.”

“i will loot the jumbo potatoes, mind you. and i’ll loot them with a smile on my face.” it wasn’t as though she had much of an option, given that she was too amused to show anything but a smile. “i’ve saved the day, and now i can claim my prize.” it doesn’t take too much time for dawon to make her way back to the faregyl inn, though junyeong doesn’t spare her any grief the entire time.

“i can’t believe you, nam dawon. this is a new low, even for you. how can you justify anything that you’ve just done? how will you ever be able to watch les mis again?”

“aah, you say that like you haven’t done the same thing a thousand times. it was definitely worth it for the potato bread.”

“i pray that you’re right, dawon.”

it may not be everyone’s ideal way to spend their spring, but dawon wouldn’t have it any other way.

[rksona]

— merry little christmas ;

given that this was her favorite time of the year, dawon fully intended to celebrate it to the best of her ability. ever since she was young, she’d always spend her christmas with the members of her family, and she didn’t intend to celebrate this one any differently. although her legs were already exhausted after a long day of training (and the lack of sleep didn’t help), she knew she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she hadn’t done this.

she pushes junyeong’s wheelchair throughout the dongdaemun market, admiring each of their surroundings with each moment. this had become somewhat of a tradition for the two, and the smile plastered over the boy’s face only helped dawon to realize just how much of a blessing it was. the love she holds for her younger cousin is greater than almost anything in the world, she’s sure of it, and she’s more than delighted to spend this time with him now.

“mind if we stop by the hot chocolate stand? i’ve been craving it all month,” junyeong chimes in, a faint chuckle escaping his lips a moment later. it was then that dawon realizes that she’s been craving some, too, and it’d practically be a crime to ignore junyeong’s request.

“yeah, we’ll get some hot chocolate,” she responds with a warm grin, even if he wasn’t able to see it (given that he was facing another direction). “after all, it’s for a good cause, right?”

the hot chocolate is enough to warm her cold body, and she can only assume that it’s the same for her cousin. or perhaps her heart simply felt warm from being in her cousin’s presence. it's been too long since the two of them had had the chance to spend much time together, though their time spent together now would just have to make up for it.

“i’d like to see you skate.” the laughter that follows makes it clear that he already knows how dawon will respond, and she almost wants to playfully hit him for his teasing.

“now, why would you want to see that? we both know i’d embarrass myself.”

“it’d be pretty funny.” a pause. “i’m sure you could do well at it if you practiced, you know.”

“maybe i could,” she adds, though she hesitates a moment later. “but you and i both know that i have a lot to practice for already. learning to skate would probably kill me.”

“aah, you know that’s not true—and if it is, then you definitely need to change something.”

more hesitation. “there’s not much to change, is there?”

“i wouldn’t say that. you could start by not being so hard on yourself. the world doesn’t depend upon you getting better... you deserve to relax, dawon. you’re putting too much pressure on your shoulders, and it shows.” he pauses. “just... try to look out for yourself, okay? you know i would if i were there, but i’m not.” he laughs just then to lighten the mood, and she’s grateful for it. “next time you have to choose between sleep and practice, ask yourself, ‘what would junyeong do?’, okay? otherwise, i’ll have to find you and give you a stern talking to.”

she’s grateful for what her cousin has to say. it wasn’t until he’s said the words that she realizes just how much she needed to hear them, and, although she’s reluctant to agree to what he has to say, she appreciates his considerate nature all the same. “what did i do to be blessed with a cousin as nice as you, junyeong?”

“you know, sometimes i wonder the same thing about you.”

[rksona]

★ — royal survival, episode 7 ;

🎼  want you to say — playback — ft. @seolhyunrk, @rkseoyoung, @rkrose, @ellyrk

it felt nearly impossible to believe that royal survival was truly coming to an end. it had been a long and eventful journey, though, if she were being honest, the time had slipped by much faster than dawon had expected it to. it almost felt as though just yesterday she had been filming for her audition, anxious and unaware of what her future might hold. auditioning had been one of the most difficult decisions of dawon’s life thus far, though, looking back now, she finds herself grateful to have taken the risk.

“this one’s for you, junyeong,” she whispered herself as they prepared for their stage, and dawon’s quickening heartbeat resembled some of her earlier performances. this was the do or die moment, and dawon wasn’t sure as to whether she felt excited or terrified, though she assumed that it was some weird mixture of both. she took one final look at her team around her, smiling once in seolhyun’s direction as they prepared for what might be their last performance together. dawon wasn’t ready to leave these girls, not yet—she had no choice but to give this performance her all, and she had no intention of holding back.

쳐다봐 날 또 피하다가 계속 엇갈리는 Sign Play me your song Play 처음부터 Playback

when it’s her turn to sing, dawon does her best to smile for the camera, hopefully showing off some of the charisma she had worked so hard to improve on. she was far from the most charismatic on the show, that much she wouldn’t deny—but it was difficult for dawon to ignore the progress she’d shown over the course of the show—the effort she’d put forth into becoming someone that wasn’t completely forgettable. her time on the show (and her teammates) had helped her to come out of her metaphorical shell, hopefully leaving her in a position to show the world what kind of performer nam dawon truly was.

기다렸잖아 I waited 좀 더 다가와 Come come to me now ooh

as the main vocalist, dawon felt that she had to be absolutely perfect when it came to the execution of her lines (making her particularly grateful for the lack of complicated choreography whenever it was her turn to sing). she found herself thinking back on what so jisub had told her in one of the earlier episodes, after her team’s performance of over u: ‘dawon, every time you open your mouth to sing, i don’t think anyone can possibly focus on anything else but where it’s coming from’. she found herself hoping that that would be the case once again today, and there was no way she’d allow herself to walk away without delivering any less than what should be expected of the main vocalist (in fact, it was her intention to go beyond what was expected, as scary as that thought seemed).

알고 싶어 니 모든걸 사소한 버릇까지도 What you like What you hate Yeah I’m so 사랑으로 빠졌어 Yeah baby boy

she can’t help but think of how much she enjoys listening to rose sing, and now more than ever she found herself grateful that they were on the same team. rose was someone that dawon had enjoyed practicing with, and she looked forward to their potential future together as members of luxe. when it came to her lines, however, they were far less demanding than what was required in the chorus, though she enjoyed herself while singing them all the same. she enjoyed the song more than she had expected to, and dawon feels that it’s one that she’d listen to a lot in her spare time.

기다렸잖아 I waited 좀 더 다가와 Come come to me now ooh

it was impossible for dawon to ignore the thought of how right this feels. performing alongside seolhyun, seoyoung, rose, and elly... they were some of the girls that she had grown closest to over the course of the show, and she couldn’t bear the idea of leaving them now. they were her team, and, no matter what results may follow, she doesn’t imagine that anything would be able to change that. there was a genuine happiness that she felt throughout the entirety of their performance, and she knew that it came from those that she was on stage with as they all put on one final performance before royal survival would finally come to an end.

(난 언제나) I’m waiting for you (그때까지) I’ll always be right here for you 더 기다리겐 하지마

as she and seolhyun sang their part of the bridge together, they were soon gently holding hands, even if only for a brief moment. there wasn’t a word to describe how much contentment dawon felt standing on stage alongside her friends, and she could only hope that they were doing a good job of showing their chemistry off to those watching them. these were the people that dawon wanted to debut with, and that is what constantly fueled her to give her all to the performance, determined to show so jisub how much she had improved from her performance of pattern all those months ago.

she had worked on her singing technique, improved her ability to carry out high notes—she felt that she was a much better singer than the day she had auditioned, and she doesn’t suppose that she owes that to anyone more than so jisub himself. it was strange, in a way—it almost felt as if the man was her friend, which was a far cry from her relationship with hyun bin, for whom she still felt intimidated by (though she still appreciated him taking a chance on her more than anything).

she put as much as she could without straining herself into her high notes, which came easier than they would have in the past, making her that much more grateful for the hard work she had put into training her voice over the course of the show. she had to assume that it would make the notes more pleasant to hear, too, though that was ultimately for so jisub to decide.

기다렸잖아 I waited 좀 더 다가와 Come come to me now ooh

the performance was drawing to a close, though dawon didn’t want to think of it as the ending. she didn’t dare to think of this as the ending, lest she run the risk of crying just as soon as their stage was complete. in the final moment, just after their performance had ended, dawon realized that, in that moment, she felt happier than she had in a very long time. this was everything that she’s ever wanted. she could only pray that it wouldn’t be over before it had the chance to truly begin.

[rksona]

📣  inspire

JULY 31ST, 2016

After everything that had happened within the past twenty-four hours, most young hopefuls would have found themselves rejoicing, feeling triumphant over everything in which they’d managed to accomplish — yet despite what she’d previously expected, Nam Dawon felt nowhere close. Yesterday, when waking up, she’d expected the day to go down in her own personal history. It was the day of the talent show, and she was set to perform. Though she was no newcomer to performing onstage, it held it’s importance all the same — it was to be her first real performance outside of the theater, and goal number one was to make one hell of a first impression.

Most young hopefuls would have found themselves rejoicing, feeling triumphant over everything in which they’d managed to accomplish — yet Nam Dawon felt apprehensive. She’d dreamt of this moment countless times in the past, though she’d never expected it to come so soon. it wasn’t the suddenness of the situation that made her feel this way, however — it was the thought of Junyeong. After everything that that the two had been through together, Dawon knew that her cousin would love and support her no matter what, and yet... somehow none of this felt right.

Despite her feelings of apprehension, however, Dawon knew that he of all people deserved to be the first to know. He of all people deserved to be the first to know that she now had a chance of living out the dream in which they had once shared. He of all people deserved to be the first to know that she, despite her moments of weakness in which she believed otherwise, still had a chance at achieving her goals. He of all people deserved to be the first to know that he had been right. He of all people deserved to be the first to know that Dawon had earned an audition with NOVA Entertainment.

The bus ride didn’t do well to ease Dawon’s nerves — for the past few years, she’d always found herself prone to growing nervous within any type of vehicle (aside from trains, those were peaceful). It was a gloomy day; slight drizzles and dark clouds signaling an approaching storm. Luckily enough, there had yet to be any thunder, so maybe this would pass soon enough. For now, however, the overhead rain did well to help Dawon relax. Ever since she was a little girl, the rain had always seemed to make her very drowsy, often resulting in one long overdue nap. She wouldn’t fall asleep this time, though — there were too many thoughts racing within her mind to make any rest possible.

It was the jolting that woke her up — damn it, couldn’t the bus driver be at least a little more careful? Now then, where was she again? Right, right — she’d just arrived in Junyeong’s neighborhood, on her way to deliver the news of her audition with NOVA... damn. At least the brief nap had succeeded in giving her peace of mind. She was feeling a bit less apprehensive, though the uneasy feeling within her stomach lingered. Why was she feeling so nervous? This was Junyeong she was talking about; he’d probably be happier than anyone else about the audition, proud that each of Dawon’s efforts had finally paid off.

She kept a key with her, yet she decided to knock anyway. Somehow barging in didn’t feel like the right option at the moment. It was her aunt who came to the door, as expected, though Dawon didn’t have much to say to her. Despite her unease, Dawon did her best to display a warm smile, given that she didn’t have time for an interview regarding everything that had been weighing her down as of late. “Is he here?” was all she offered in greeting, though her aunt didn’t seem to mind. She had smiled — perhaps grateful to see Dawon visiting at all. “Ah, I think he’s playing games in his room again, but you can go on in. He’ll be happy to see you, Dawon.”

Yeah, happy was certainly the word for it. Dawon could only pray that things would turn out to be as cheerful as her aunt seemed to think — she could only pray that Junyeong wouldn’t be upset. She hesitated for a moment outside of his bedroom door, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to wait forever. Even if she chose to walk away this very instant, she’d still have to own up to the news eventually. Taking a deep breath as she began raising her hand, Dawon braced herself for what was soon to come. Once she was finally ready, she knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

The very moment she heard his voice, Dawon’s mood shifted entirely. No longer feeling as though she had any true reason to be afraid, opening the door proved to be easy. After entering, Dawon immediately broke out into a brief fit of laughter. She’d almost stepped on the boy’s dirty clothes, and somehow she wasn’t even surprised. Junyeong had never been the type to pick up after himself. ‘An empty room is a sign of an empty mind,’ he had always argued — though just how picking up your dirty laundry signified an empty mind, Dawon wasn’t sure. “You really do need to start cleaning up after yourself, Junyeong,” she expressed in between laughs.

“Aah, if you want me to start now, you’re just kidding yourself. An empty room is a sign of an empty mind, Dawon! I thought we’d been over this,” he called from his desk, offering up a laugh of his own. In truth, they had been over this, though that wasn’t going to stop Dawon from teasing him about it during each of her visits. As if out of habit, Dawon had already begun to pick up what clothes remained scattered across the floor — but she didn’t mind. Following the accident, she’d grown accustomed to this sort of thing; after all, it was Dawon who had been there to take care of him in the aftermath.

“Shh, quit your excuses, I’ve already handled it,” she said as she tossed the clothes into a nearby hamper. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you just threw them into the hamper yourself — like if it were basketball! But you never have liked basketball, so,” she closed off, finally making her way across the room to pull Junyeong into a hug. He’d always given the best hugs, and somehow it did well to ease Dawon’s nerves further. How was it that her mood could go from feeling dejected to cheerful simply by being in Junyeong’s presence? Perhaps she’d never know. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” was all he offered up in response — yet somehow it was enough. She’d only been away for one short weekend, though it was the second one in a row. Dawon tried her best to visit Junyeong every Saturday, though this had been impossible during her time attending the summer camp. “Well?” he asked, finally pulling away from his older cousin. “How was it? Wait — let me guess,” he continued, another wide grin managing its way onto his features. “There you were, about to finally begin your camping experience of a lifetime, when suddenly — out of the blue, you were struck by lightning? With anyone else, I’d expect them to receive some sort of superpowers out of that — but not you, you’re too unlucky,” he joked.

It was true — it was no secret that Dawon had always found herself a magnet for bad luck. Luckily, nothing of the sort had happened, and Dawon was able to return home superpower-free (though a few powers would have been pretty damn cool). “Ah stop it,” she insisted, waving the boy off for the time being. “There was no lightning this time — I actually managed to have one good camping trip! I haven’t come home with any superpowers sadly, but...” she trailed off, finally remembering why she’d made this trip in the first place. With one glance towards the MYNAME poster on Junyeong’s wall, suddenly Dawon’s heart was plummeting towards her stomach yet again.

Damn it — Dawon hadn’t considered the fact that Junyeong knew her better than anyone, so it was no surprise when the joyfulness in his eyes shifted to that of concern. “Ah, so something’s wrong, then,” he began, lifting his gaze in an attempt to pinpoint Dawon’s point of interest. He offered up a quick laugh to lighten the mood before pressing further. “MYNAME?” he asked, curious as to why Dawon appeared so troubled. “What, do you not like the group anymore? I thought you loved those guys, but I can take them down if you want. Or are you just jealous that you don’t have that poster on your wall? Take it if you want it, but I can’t promise that I’d ever forgive you,” he expressed with another laugh.

He was only half right — her sudden state of unease did have to do with MYNAME, though it had less to do the group itself and more to do with the company in which they were signed to — NOVA Entertainment. How had she ever been so stupid to assume this would have been easy? Junyeong knew something was wrong now, which meant leaving it alone wasn’t an option. In her continued silence, it seemed Junyeong was growing increasingly worried about whatever Dawon had on her mind. “Is it relationship problems? I don’t know how I’d be able to help, but... if you think the poster will make things better, it’s yours.”

He deserved to know the truth. He of all people should be the first to know about this, no matter how anxious Dawon felt. “I...” she finally began, hesitation heavy within her voice. After taking yet another deep breath, Dawon finally braced herself for the truth. “After the talent show, well, I was approached,” she continued, reaching into her pocket to remove the calling card that had been left in her possession. “I was scouted, I guess you could say — by a representative from NOVA. I have an audition with them later this month — if I want it.”

For just a fraction of a second, Dawon could see the pain that was now present in her cousin’s eyes — no matter how brief. As a kid, Junyeong had always dreamt of earning a spot within NOVA — though due to Dawon’s recklessness, he had lost his opportunity forever. The pain disappeared as fast as it had come, and in a moment it was nothing but a memory. Still — it had been there, and Dawon was never the type to forget something such as this. In no time at all, Junyeong’s expression had already returned to its previous cheerful state — arguably more so than before.

“What do you mean ‘if you want it’? Did it only take one trip to summer camp to make you forget who you are?” he asked, suddenly in a more serious tone. “You do know who you are, right? There’s a mirror over there if you think it will help you figure it out.” Dawon remained silent for a brief moment, though in the end, she nodded regardless — albeit hesitantly. “Well, you could’ve fooled me,” he continued, his light and humorous tone returning. “For a second there it seemed like you’d forgotten again. In fact, for a second it seemed as though you’d forgotten that you’re the badass otherwise known as Nam fucking Dawon. Because Nam fucking Dawon? Well, I for one think she’d accept that audition in a heartbeat.”

“I...” once again, she was left speechless. He wasn’t entirely wrong — Dawon did want to accept the audition more than anything, though she wasn’t sure if she deserved to; after all, had it not been for her own recklessness, maybe it’d be Junyeong with the upcoming audition instead of her. Even so, Junyeong had already made it painstakingly obvious that if he couldn’t live out his dream, he’d go to the ends of the Earth to ensure that Dawon could live out hers. She wanted this so badly — so why had she let fear for what Junyeong may have felt hold her back? Junyeong wanted this just as much — or perhaps more, — for Dawon as she did for herself.

“Thank you,” were the only words she could manage as she wrapped her arms around her cousin once more. She should have known that this would have been his reaction — though somehow she was left surprised. He’d said all the right things to convince Dawon that this was, in fact, an opportunity in which she had to take. How had she allowed herself to be so blind and fearful of the truth? Junyeong was the whole reason she was still chasing her dreams in the first place; why would he have ever wanted Dawon to throw away what could potentially be the opportunity of a lifetime?

“You’re welcome,” he said, running a hand through his older cousin’s hair to mess it up. “Now, about that audition song...”