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Sometimes, Jaewon looks at where he is and wonders how he got here.
He’s not bad. What is he being punished for?
Not that it matters, in the end. He’s just a kid, impressionable and naive. He’s so naive, so dumb. But naïveté and dumbness don’t last long, when they’re used. Resources run out.
(“Hah? Just cuz he’s an idol, he thinks he can ignore us? What’s he not talkin for?” He’s scared. They’re bigger and older. But he’s quiet. Even when a fist slams into his face, rattling his vision.
“Ha! Look at how his dainty little idol cheek can’t hold up to a fist. You gonna bruise? You gonna bleed?” Glee. There’s glee in his pain. The ringleader of the lot holds him up by his collar.
“I’m your sunbaenim. Say it. Woojin sunbaenim.”
He says it.)
He’s shy, always has been on the quiet side.
He loves being an idol, loves the lights and dancing and singing. It’s fun.
The lights and makeup cover bruises everyone knows are there. Nobody cares because of how they think he gets them.
That’s him.
Wyld. Juvenile delinquent. Idol extraordinaire.
It’s all a lie, of course. No company actually needs an idol who doesn’t follow the rules. Jaewon follows them too well, because he knows that if it’s not him- they’re going to put Minsoo hyung.
So he lets them. Fabrications and convenient pictures and enough left unsaid for gossipmongers to create their worst. Wyld is a slightly dirty but blank canvas to play with.
Jaewon is a blank canvas to play with. He studies and does his best because Daehyun doesn’t care and Minsoo hyung is... well. He’s in his own world.
Jaewon doesn’t know if he knows what his friends get up to.
He doesn’t ask. It’s easier to pretend he doesn’t know. To pretend that what’s on purpose was a mistake.
(“You did well again, Jaewon ah.” His teacher hands him another high scored test. He was supposed to fail but when it was obvious that Jaewon was conflicted, their teacher demanded he try his best. It was honest and Jaewon was relieved.
“Thanks Mr. Min.”
“You know, if you’re having trouble with the other kids, I’m sure I could sort it out.” He smiles. He’s an old man, and these kids would hurt him. He knows he sees the bruises up his arms that look like hands and fists. It’s obvious.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong! Just a lot of dance practice.” He gives Jaewon a sidelong glance, knowing. Knowing the way a teacher does that those marks are from hands.
“You’re a talented student, Jaewon. Don’t let it go to waste.”
Knowing that Wyld gets into fights.)
What can he do? Daehyun is too young. He’s a year younger but if Jaewon is too young to understand the machinations he’s in until it was too late, he’s scared for Daehyun. Sweet and kind and playful and he’s be destroyed. Minsoo hyung, Jaewon is holding onto hope for. He likes Minsoo, when he’s in a good mood.
When he’s in a bad one, he avoids him.
And Dongho hyung hates him. He really, really does.
It’s better for them not to know. They hate him but they’re his bandmates and that means he’s supposed to do anything he can to help them.
It’s a small sacrifice, after all. Pretending you’re honest in this industry is futile.
(“I already let you get away with not doing what I asked with your grades. You’re not gonna get out of appearing with this in your hand. I’m not letting you off with indications of fighting.”
“This is a soju bottle, sir.”
“Do you want MAYHEM to fail? Do you think you know more about the media than I do?”
“No, sir.”
“Then go. There’s some cameramen loitering down the block. Let them catch the bruise.”
“Yes, sir.”)
Was this a nightmare? This couldn’t be reality. When was he waking up?
He saw people years older than him calling him names and slurs and insults. He scrolls through them, hoping for a single word of support. But it’s admonishments and the best he finds is the reminder that he’s not even an adult. That’s what he was. The bad kid. The uncontrollable one. In the bad pile of unwanted people.
It’s a small comfort that it’s fake. Because if that’s all he is reduced to in everyone’s eyes, isn’t that what he is?
“You were never one of us,” Minsoo’s eyes admonish.
“I don’t trust you,” hiss the looks Dongho throws when his back is turned.
There’s pity, in flashes, that Daehyun gives and Jaewon doesn’t want to be pitiful. He’s helping them! He doesn’t need the pity.
But it’s nice to know that someone cares about him. Even if he knows Daehyun probably thinks a million things when he’s not looking, he doesn’t scowl at him or leer at him.
When had the bar dropped that low?
(“Oh hyung, you need to be more careful.”
“It’s just a bruise,” Jaewon shrugs, pretending it’s fine. Even when he knows that he has so many he can’t even remember if his boss or the kids who follow him around did this. He pretends so Daehyun can hold on to whatever fragile innocence he has. It’s a little hopeless, honestly. He changes the subject.
“How was the solo practice?
“Physically? I’m here. But mentally? Floating down the Han,” Daehyun laughs. “I’m so tired!”
Protecting that innocence is futile. It’s going to be gone some day. But Jaewon protects it all the same.)
His mom calls, never believing the headlines for a minute and it’s a relief. A relief that she believes in him. He knows she’s sad. But he explained that the media makes up whatever it will.
He lied about the company’s involvement. Does she sleep better at night that way? He hopes so. Jaewon feels a little sick when he knows that he’s a liar too. But he lies so everyone is happy. He’s the only one in pain, and it’s not like he’s hurt so much.
He can handle it.
Sometimes he spits blood in the sink and remembers he can’t. But as long as the porcelain is white when he leaves, who cares? No one cares. They’re all doing their jobs.
(“What are you doing?” A girl interrupts him. He stays in the libraries to evade capture by his normal group of bullies, when he can. The librarians always follow him like they expect him to steal something, and kick him out if he’s not working. There’s a kid here who punches him sometimes but it’s a lot less. The girl he’s looking at has deep set eyes and long dark hair that falls in her face.
“Studying.”
“You’re a delinquent and you insist on pretending you’re a good kid?” She giggles, there’s a demand in there, one his trained ears recognize all too well.
“I-“
“Your company probably asked you to, huh? Come out and play with me!” She graphs his hand and yanks him to his feet with terrifying strength. He blinks at her.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Sohee! I sit behind you in class.”
He doesn’t want to. She’s staring at him and he has things to do and he knows how it’s going to end.
And he knows the ending he’s supposed to cause. He puts away the book.
“Sure,” he smiles. Plastic and fake because you’re only ever what they see you as and the least he can do is smile at the ones who don’t understand.)
He’s trapped. He’s trapped but it’s for a cause. He shouldn’t think too hard about what he’s doing. Innocence isn’t for idols, and protecting it is futile in the long run. But so is their fame. So Jaewon thinks he might just cling to hope a little longer.