Chapter Text
i don’t know about you, but i think blondie tries too hard…
-- fr like she does too much. don’t need to be smiling and winking every 0.0005s
-- also it looks awkward af, smile doesn’t even look natural
What is that outfit :skull: girl is not slaying
-- did she gain weight???
-- PLS honestly kinda. not even the stylist can save her. LMAO
too cringe i had to pause for a min
ngl that part should’ve gone to tao… at least she knows how to rap
-- happens when you live off of your brother’s fame smh
A shuddering breath escapes her as she turns off her phone, letting the device drop from her hands as she curls into a ball. It clatters against the wooden floor, echoing louder than she would’ve liked in the empty practice room -- but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Her form trembles ever so slightly as she sobs into her bruised and battered knees -- a motion undetectable by the sensors of the room. Gradually, the lights shut themselves off and darkness washes her over a blanket, rendering her invisible to any persons that may pass by the room.
At least there wouldn’t be anyone to see her in such a weak, pathetic state, where she could not even muster a smile in defense, and nobody to hear those whimpers of frustration, self-pity, and shame.
It feels like it’s all for naught -- that past decade of training, of sleepless nights spent drilling in the practice room, of lengthy hours spent in the recording room, all the way up till the day of debut. She’s always hustled, never settled for less; she gives it her all, and always tries her best.
Then… Why?
Why is it that her best wasn’t enough?
Why is that… They still hated me?
She danced her hardest and sang her best. She tried her best to mimic the ways of rapping, and developed a decent flow. Her members complimented her, and even the composers praised her for her quick improvement.
She’s done everything right, and yet…
None of that seemed to matter. None of her efforts were even seen.
All of that was still invisible to the scrutiny of the public, who is blind to everything else except the most minute mistakes.
Mistakes that didn’t matter, mistakes that weren’t her fault.
Mistakes that she couldn’t eradicate, even if she starved herself to the point of fainting.
Maybe it’s for the better. At least, she wouldn’t be perceived; she could finally rest, maybe find a moment of peace, all in the comfortable embrace of the dark.
Exhaustion creeping up over her, she feels that addictive lull of sleep. Even if she did have the energy, there was no use in fighting it any longer —
I don’t want to wake up again.
——
Lumine.
In the darkness, a familiar voice called out to her.
Lumine, please—
It feels warm, the arms that enveloped her. She wants to get closer to the source; it’s been a while since she’s felt so comfortable, so relaxed,
so loved.
She wants to block out the noise, wants to stay suspended in that stagnant space forever, but the world around her begins to shake —
Wake up.
Involuntarily, her consciousness returns, and light floods her blurry vision. Lumine tries to squint, but finds herself exerting an unusual amount of energy to do so. She felt so lethargic, so tired, so unbelievably weak , that even waking up felt like a chore —
“Lumine,” the same voice spoke again, clearer now. “How do you feel?”
Slowly, she turns to the source of the voice, and in her grogginess, doesn’t quite recognize who it is initially.
But those shimmering golden eyes, so alluringly gentle as they gazed at her in worry — Lumine could not help but be entranced, mouth slightly agape at this beautiful specimen of a person.
…Until it clicked in her head that the owner of those eyes was none other than the quiet, introverted prodigy producer of their company.
He… is quite handsome up close .
“Xiao,” Lumine breathed. “Where did you…”
“One of the managers called me, asking if I’ve seen you around since the members didn’t see you at the dorms,” Xiao said. “Barbara was especially worried, and specifically told me to check the practice room.”
“Barbara, huh…” The idol smiled ruefully. “She always understood me the best.”
“You should thank her,” Xiao remarked. “Because I certainly would’ve never predicted that there’d be a body hidden in the secluded corner of a practice room.”
Lumine scoffed at his words, but he did not smile in the least. Instead, he only sighs, releasing a long-held breath,
“Come. I’ll quickly order you some food, and I’ll drive you back home.”