don't listen to what your heart tells you.
"you don't know how lucky you are, jinri. i'd give the world to be where you are right now."
she's been here longer than the rest of them. she knows more, she's seen more and she's carried more; the blood and sweat staining the polished floors (not really, though, because she's not that good of an anything) of the practice rooms are no one's if not hers. the starry-eyed anxiety of rookies has left her a long time ago but it's not like she's had much of that in the beginning. because unlike him, she actually gets it.
leaning against the frosty metal railing, she mutters, "you know nothing, jongin. nothing." a flicker of hurt passes briefly over his chiseled features but it's replaced by his trademark blasé mask just as fast. that's how he works: show no emotion, feel no emotion. still a trainee and jongin has gotten it down pat. he'll be good in this business, she can tell. the vehement do-or-die attitude he possesses is a valued quality that she doesn't have.
"oh, i know a thing or two," jongin remarks, a little too airily for her liking, the smirk he wears contrasting with the sallow sheen of his skin. "taemin has taught me a lot of things, believe it or not. he's smarter than you think."
jinri snorts so hard the saliva goes down her throat through the wrong pipe. "right, right. and he'd know so much. always babied and taken care of; always given everything he wants. i'm sure his life is oh-so-difficult," she taunts (to hide her insecurity, to hide the four other girls who are more talented than her by leaps and bounds, to hide her fear of never being enough because she doesn't have even a little) with a roll of her eyes. "right."
"you underestimate him too much, jin-ah." his breath puffs out of his mouth in a swirling mist. "he's been an idol for nearly two years now and hasn't been caught up in a controversy yet, as far as i know, and you? what, only six months in and people are already calling you and soojung rude. take a cue from taemin; you'll learn something." jongin glances at her out of the corner of his eye.
"stop giving me advice as if you're better than me," she snaps, getting riled up, "because i think i'm the idol right now and you're just a trainee. you're nobody." a bark of laughter startles her. he pivots and gives her a look (those pair of determined, desolate eyes can never come up with something good) that makes her toes curl.
he takes a step closer to her; jinri sucks in her breath. "but when i become somebody, i'm not going to become another you. i'm going to become the one, because i have what it takes. i am what they need. i have something within me. you, sulli, are just a pretty face. a pretty little doll they use for display and nothing else."
"you fucking asshole."
"ooh, harsh. i've been called worse, though, so i'm not worried." shrugging nonchalantly, jongin withdraws a can of beer he'd pilfered from minseok earlier and pops it open. "soojung has quite the wide vocabulary, it seems." she splutters incorrigibly and her eyes dilate. "what the hell does that mean? what have you been doing with her?"
he chuckles. the throaty hum of his voice (he does all these insignificant things that makes her neck crawl; his future fans will adore him) making an uncomfortable warmth billow in the pits of her stomach. "i haven't been fucking your friend, if that's what you're wondering. i was talking about the verbal sense, jinri-ah. she swears like a sailor, that one," he muses.
"ah. that." his next words make jinri wince. "there's still a touch of innocence somewhere, hmm? shame. i figured you'd be more like soojung now; 'sica-noona trained her well. she's definitely going to make her mark."
the frustration that's been building up throughout their conversation crumbles, as does her resolve; heat pools in her cheeks and she battles with the lump that's snowballing in her throat. "you've no right to do this to me," whimpers jinri, mentally chiding herself for sounding so weak, so needy. "you've no right at all." she finds herself unable to look him in the eye, too ashamed because he'd chipped off another flake of the glossy paint that coats her cowardly self.
he doesn't reply but curves his coarse hand against her cheekbone. his lithe fingers are forceful and controlling, as she'd expected; she succumbs (isn't that what she's always done? give in to everyone but herself?) without a second thought, allowing herself to be lured into his overwhelming presence. it feels horribly wrong but then again, so does her life.
"you're not a survivor, jinri." jongin chuckles, tucking strands of her hair back behind her ears. "it must suck to be you." hatred rears its ugly head and she feels sick. "just shut up, okay? shut the hell up." he shakes his head, amusement lingering on his face. "sort your life out. you can't be hiding under long skirts and baggy tops forever. follow taemin, soojung, jessica, whoever - just don't be yourself. because i'm gonna give them what they want to see."
and only god knows how much it fucking hurts when two years later, kai is practically in all of exo's teasers, in the center of all the dance routines, in the middle of all the photos, in the hub of all the comments online.
it's not because she's jealous but because the realization that he actually deserves it hits home. because he was willing to sell his soul to the devil if that's what it takes; willing to push away everyone who's ever loved him if that's what the industry needs. because he has the right foot forward and is doing everything - and is everything - she's never been able to do.