[11]
doing it for the fame
sunggyu-centric, sunggyu/nana. infinite, orange caramel.
pg. 1140 words. "fame is everyone's thing."
Sunggyu tiptoes inside his house and stumbles into a chair that's not pushed all the way under the kitchen table. He takes advantage of this obstacle, and collapses on it. The sound of the legs scraping the floor are enough to make his mom turn around and ignore her cooking.
"If you're going to perform on stage, stop jumping around. You know you have bad knees." The pot starts bubbling, the water inside making a spectacle. She quickly turns the dial with panic, and the water comes crashing back down.
"I know, I know," Sunggyu says, seizing his leg. He squeezes and squeezes the muscle, but it only makes the pain flare.
"There were so many people tonight," Sunggyu rasps, dreamily gazing at his mom's back. His throat is still sore from hitting a high note for a cute girl standing at the front. He made her change her mind about the guitarist. She made him change his rule about asking for people in the audience's phone numbers. (But who is he kidding, rock professionals don't go by rules.)
They say "leader" instead of "lead singer." He only realizes he misheard when he's presented with a dance floor, not an amp or a stage.
"I could work in a room full of mirrors," Sunggyu says, putting his hands on his hips. "This is where I can witness my progress."
Tablo smiles at him. "Yes, you can see how good your dancing will get this way."
Sunggyu can't hide how confused he is. He touches a hole on his jeans, carving out a bigger one. "Is my dancing really that important? I mean, I can move around but it's my voice that matters-"
"Dancing is always important in a boy band."
Whenever Sunggyu hears the word "boy band," he thinks of pretty boys who synchronize swim without the aquatic setting. Surely, Tablo isn't thinking the same thing. "You don't mean like-" he gets a couple of examples from the back of his mind. "-Super Junior or 2PM, right?"
"Dear God, no," Tablo says. Sunggyu sighs in relief.
"We're going to make sure that you guys are going to be better than them."
All of his body turns numb. This isn't good for his future dancing.
After a long night of formulating a speech that explains why he's not suited to be in a boy band, Sunggyu knocks on the CEO's door. He tries to remember all the examples using his fingers, but he doesn't think he has enough of them. Resorting to his toes is just unnecessary.
"Hey, you're one of the trainees that will be in our new boy band," the CEO says to Sunggyu after the door pushes open. Sunggyu bows his head down first, then cuts to what he came for.
"I was just going to talk to you about that." Sunggyu's good at talking. Maybe he would have made a good leader, if he wasn't so unskilled at moving his arms and feet. "I don't think it's my thing."
"What are you talking about? Fame is everyone's thing," the CEO says, folding his hands behind his head. Sunggyu stands there, not having anything to say to that.
"Excuse me, I have to think about-go to the bathroom. Thinking about going to the bathroom, yeah." He walks out of the room. The bathroom is not too far off, but when he passes it, he doesn't stop to go inside. Sunggyu unbuttons his jacket, sticking a hand in there to clutch his stomach. He'll handle the horrible business going on in there at home.
"But what if it's not my kind of fame?" Sunggyu says once he's outside the building. The open atmosphere makes it easier to say things.
A guy named Dongwoo laughs at Sunggyu's idea of pop-and-locking. Sunggyu smiles at him, appreciating the honesty.
"Man, you are really bad at dancing," Dongwoo tells him. He throws Sunggyu a water bottle, and it smacks him right between the eyebrows. His arms are too comfortable hanging to catch a water bottle.
"But I can tell you like to move around a lot. There's hope for improvement there," Dongwoo says.
"I do!" Sunggyu insists. "Back when I was the lead singer of my band, I would have to move a lot."
"Oh," Dongwoo uncaps the bottle, but doesn't raise the mouth up to his face. "That explains everything."
"Explains what?" Sunggyu asks.
"The great singing, the amount of energy, and the bad dancing," Dongwoo says, before tipping the water bottle over his face, trying to splash the roof of his mouth. Sunggyu doesn't suppress the urge to flick the bottle in its plastic middle. Leader privileges are great.
Sunggyu runs into his dad at home, almost spilling the boxes in his arms on him. His father's mouth gapes open.
"Don't scream," Sunggyu says, using one hand to run through his hair. "Blonde isn't permanent."
He escapes to his room, dropping all the boxes to the floor, all except one which he drags over to his closet. The door to his closet swings a little too hard when it opens, but Sunggyu dodges it. Stepping back gives him a full view of his closet, clothes and collectibles toppled over each other. He starts with a pair of jeans coiled up at the bottom. Something in the pocket stabs his hand, and he shakes the weapon out. A CD case opens when it drops, and he immediately falls down to get it.
"Crap," he says, holding the CD up to his eyes. American music is hard to replace. He brings it over to the bed, setting up workshop to fix it. He slides it out, tugging it gently with his fingers, and examines it for damage. He only notices the tracklist, all songs Limp Bizkit composed and that he memorized the words to. Even if he only has an inkling of what they mean.
He slips the CD in the box, but it gets washed underneath all the new shoes, graphic tees, and hats he's bought recently. It's hard for him to shut the cardboard flaps.
Sunggyu smiles nervously at the pretty girl peeking at him behind the screens at Kiss the Radio, because it turns out a frilly dress and a big bow aren't the things that make an Orange Caramel member pretty. He purposely puts up his arms on the table, rolling up his sleeves. His old part-time job really came in handy for this.
Nana even makes his name roll nicely off her tongue. Sunggyu likes her, he likes her a lot. He even declares it out loud and on radio for everybody tuning in to hear. The red never completely disappears from his cheeks.
She comes up to him when he's patting down his face. "You're cute."
The color rushes back to his face. He can't have a horde of groupies, but he can have her.
sunggyu-centric, sunggyu/nana. infinite, orange caramel.
pg. 1140 words. "fame is everyone's thing."
Sunggyu tiptoes inside his house and stumbles into a chair that's not pushed all the way under the kitchen table. He takes advantage of this obstacle, and collapses on it. The sound of the legs scraping the floor are enough to make his mom turn around and ignore her cooking.
"If you're going to perform on stage, stop jumping around. You know you have bad knees." The pot starts bubbling, the water inside making a spectacle. She quickly turns the dial with panic, and the water comes crashing back down.
"I know, I know," Sunggyu says, seizing his leg. He squeezes and squeezes the muscle, but it only makes the pain flare.
"There were so many people tonight," Sunggyu rasps, dreamily gazing at his mom's back. His throat is still sore from hitting a high note for a cute girl standing at the front. He made her change her mind about the guitarist. She made him change his rule about asking for people in the audience's phone numbers. (But who is he kidding, rock professionals don't go by rules.)
They say "leader" instead of "lead singer." He only realizes he misheard when he's presented with a dance floor, not an amp or a stage.
"I could work in a room full of mirrors," Sunggyu says, putting his hands on his hips. "This is where I can witness my progress."
Tablo smiles at him. "Yes, you can see how good your dancing will get this way."
Sunggyu can't hide how confused he is. He touches a hole on his jeans, carving out a bigger one. "Is my dancing really that important? I mean, I can move around but it's my voice that matters-"
"Dancing is always important in a boy band."
Whenever Sunggyu hears the word "boy band," he thinks of pretty boys who synchronize swim without the aquatic setting. Surely, Tablo isn't thinking the same thing. "You don't mean like-" he gets a couple of examples from the back of his mind. "-Super Junior or 2PM, right?"
"Dear God, no," Tablo says. Sunggyu sighs in relief.
"We're going to make sure that you guys are going to be better than them."
All of his body turns numb. This isn't good for his future dancing.
After a long night of formulating a speech that explains why he's not suited to be in a boy band, Sunggyu knocks on the CEO's door. He tries to remember all the examples using his fingers, but he doesn't think he has enough of them. Resorting to his toes is just unnecessary.
"Hey, you're one of the trainees that will be in our new boy band," the CEO says to Sunggyu after the door pushes open. Sunggyu bows his head down first, then cuts to what he came for.
"I was just going to talk to you about that." Sunggyu's good at talking. Maybe he would have made a good leader, if he wasn't so unskilled at moving his arms and feet. "I don't think it's my thing."
"What are you talking about? Fame is everyone's thing," the CEO says, folding his hands behind his head. Sunggyu stands there, not having anything to say to that.
"Excuse me, I have to think about-go to the bathroom. Thinking about going to the bathroom, yeah." He walks out of the room. The bathroom is not too far off, but when he passes it, he doesn't stop to go inside. Sunggyu unbuttons his jacket, sticking a hand in there to clutch his stomach. He'll handle the horrible business going on in there at home.
"But what if it's not my kind of fame?" Sunggyu says once he's outside the building. The open atmosphere makes it easier to say things.
A guy named Dongwoo laughs at Sunggyu's idea of pop-and-locking. Sunggyu smiles at him, appreciating the honesty.
"Man, you are really bad at dancing," Dongwoo tells him. He throws Sunggyu a water bottle, and it smacks him right between the eyebrows. His arms are too comfortable hanging to catch a water bottle.
"But I can tell you like to move around a lot. There's hope for improvement there," Dongwoo says.
"I do!" Sunggyu insists. "Back when I was the lead singer of my band, I would have to move a lot."
"Oh," Dongwoo uncaps the bottle, but doesn't raise the mouth up to his face. "That explains everything."
"Explains what?" Sunggyu asks.
"The great singing, the amount of energy, and the bad dancing," Dongwoo says, before tipping the water bottle over his face, trying to splash the roof of his mouth. Sunggyu doesn't suppress the urge to flick the bottle in its plastic middle. Leader privileges are great.
Sunggyu runs into his dad at home, almost spilling the boxes in his arms on him. His father's mouth gapes open.
"Don't scream," Sunggyu says, using one hand to run through his hair. "Blonde isn't permanent."
He escapes to his room, dropping all the boxes to the floor, all except one which he drags over to his closet. The door to his closet swings a little too hard when it opens, but Sunggyu dodges it. Stepping back gives him a full view of his closet, clothes and collectibles toppled over each other. He starts with a pair of jeans coiled up at the bottom. Something in the pocket stabs his hand, and he shakes the weapon out. A CD case opens when it drops, and he immediately falls down to get it.
"Crap," he says, holding the CD up to his eyes. American music is hard to replace. He brings it over to the bed, setting up workshop to fix it. He slides it out, tugging it gently with his fingers, and examines it for damage. He only notices the tracklist, all songs Limp Bizkit composed and that he memorized the words to. Even if he only has an inkling of what they mean.
He slips the CD in the box, but it gets washed underneath all the new shoes, graphic tees, and hats he's bought recently. It's hard for him to shut the cardboard flaps.
Sunggyu smiles nervously at the pretty girl peeking at him behind the screens at Kiss the Radio, because it turns out a frilly dress and a big bow aren't the things that make an Orange Caramel member pretty. He purposely puts up his arms on the table, rolling up his sleeves. His old part-time job really came in handy for this.
Nana even makes his name roll nicely off her tongue. Sunggyu likes her, he likes her a lot. He even declares it out loud and on radio for everybody tuning in to hear. The red never completely disappears from his cheeks.
She comes up to him when he's patting down his face. "You're cute."
The color rushes back to his face. He can't have a horde of groupies, but he can have her.