Chapter Text
Chris had no clue what he was doing.
His mom had asked if he wanted to audition for some Korean record label and he agreed for the hell of it. Little did he know that this record label. The infamous JYP actually wanted him.
The flight was the hardest part. 10 hours alone to contemplate what he was getting himself into. They told him to come for the summer, jut to try it out and see if it was something he actually wanted to persue. And that was what gave Chris the confidence to go through with it. But the second he walked into that sprawling practice room full of older, taller, more talented people, all working towards the same dream, it hit him.
Chris had no clue what he was doing.
When he walked into an apartment building with more unsupervised teenagers it took all his power not to run out and call his mom to pick him up. Even at 13 years old, he understood the kind of money that went into getting him here and he couldn't skip out on this opportunity just because he was confused and overwhelmed. So with a deep breath he walked into the madness of it all. It was just the summer, right?
"Hello, my name is Chan," he greeted in broken Korean to a group of trainees that he'd been assigned to work with. He'd spoken it at home but his skills were way below what they should've been at his age.
"Another foreigner," one boy rolled his eyes, looking him up and down. "I thought this was Kpop. Why does the CEO insist on flying in a bunch of kids who don't even speak the language?" he scoffed.
Chris couldn't fully understand, but he could pick up the main parts and from the tone it wasn't positive. The trainee looked to be around 18 and had nearly a foot in height on him, so even if he was pissed off, there was nothing Chris could do.
Throughout the week he'd either hear people laugh at his Korean, or stare at him confused when they couldn't understand his strong accent. That second part wasn't necessarily anyone's fault, foreign languages were difficult as it was without dealing with different ways people speak. However, everything was new. He was getting yelled at, he had no privacy, there wasn't any time to sleep, and it was getting to be too much.
It seemed like every trainee had their own private spaces, that or they understood not to bother people. Chan didn't get that memo and ended up bursting into tears right before he was supposed to give up his practice room. Once he started, he couldn't stop, it was uncontrollable. he felt his throat closing up and he still couldn't stop his sobs. The only thing he was thankful for was the soundproofing and the fact his vocal teacher had left already to evaluate the next trainee.
"Hello?" a quiet voice asked as the door creaked open.
Chris swallowed hard, trying to contain his tears enough to seem semi normal. "I-I'm sorry, this room is free now."
He didn't even comprehend that he'd responded in English until he heard the other trainee respond in the same language. "Oh it's fine, Are you okay?"
"You-can understand me?" Chris sniffed, beginning to dry his eyes.
The trainee nodded, "I'm from Thailand. If I couldn't speak English I'd be really screwed."
Chris couldn't help but laugh, "People said they couldn't understand my accent."
"That's because you're with the Koreans, they can only figure out what the American trainees are saying and even then, they struggle." He grinned.
"There's more foreigners?" Chris tilted his head.
"Of course, you've probably met some of them and just didn't know it. My name's Bambam." he held out his hand.
The Australian took the offered hand and shook it, "I'm Chris-" he was cut off by being pulled out of his chair and out of the room.
"Brian hyung- I found another one!" Bambam yelled, dragging his new friend down the hall.
"Again!" The instructor yelled hitting play on the soundtrack once again.
Chris heaved, hands tightly gripping his knees as sweat dripped down his face. He took a deep breath and started up the sequence again. Only to flinch when he heard the music get cut off again.
"Chan ah- keep that energy up, you're messing up the form, again. Did you even practice this before class?" They scolded before restarting the song.
The other trainees roiled their eyes at him, sending judgmental glares his way.
Chris sighed and pushed a hand through his frizzed hair preparing to start again.
Even after all that practice he was told to stay back and continue to practice. Which he did.
Until he collapsed.
Chris let out a groan and rolled onto his side. His heart was thumping against his ribcage and for a split second he thought he was going to have some sort of emergency.
"Are you okay?' A voice said from the door, flicking on the lights in the dark room, causing Chris to clamp his eyes shut.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired," he responded, trying to turn away from the light.
"Then go get some rest, evaluations aren't for another 3 days." The older trainee said, his foot steps vibrating through the floor boards to reach Chris's ears.
"I did practice," He whispered.
"What?" the other asked, sitting down next to him.
"I practiced, I practiced really hard. That song plays in my sleep, my feet are forming blisters, and they still think I'm not trying." He rolled onto his back and pressed his palms into his eyes both to push back exhaustion and tears.
"You haven't even been here a month, these people have been here for at east a year. Don't be so hard on yourself."
At the realization this person knew how long he'd been there his head tilted in confusion, hands coming off his eyes. "How do you know I've been here less than a month?"
"Bambam doesn't keep secrets very well." He chuckled. "I'm Jackson."
Chris turned to look at him and instantly sat up, going to bow. He'd gotten in trouble for not doing so before and didn't want it to happen again. "I'm sorry for bothering you, did you need the room?" He knew the trainees that had been there longer took up the later practices, especially if they had school earlier in the day.
Jackson nodded, "yeah, but don't freak out. You'll get used to it" He said, switching to English, now that Chris was looking at him.
Chris wasn't paying attention, he was freaking out, this was the second time he'd gotten in someone's way and he wasn't even out of his trial period yet. "Thanks for talking to me, I'll get out of your way now." he said quickly before heading out, hearing the sound of Jacksons muffled laughter in the background.
Well, Chris wasn't being scolded anymore.
Instead it felt like he was being ignored, he never got criticism, much less a complement. In his mind this was a bad thing, because he only had a week left before his final evaluation. It wouldn't matter if he was deciding to stay or not if he wasn't worth keeping in the first place. He'd already seen trainees go home, ones he thought were much better than him, and it shook him to his core.
So one day while he was practicing his dance. He walked over to the trainees practicing their flips. They all had to take tumbling classes but all he could manage was a somersault, even with Jacksons help. "Can you guys show me how to do that?"
They all looked at each other confused, rightfully so, Chan had never interacted with them, and they were in separate groups because they already knew how to do flips. "Uh, sure, but do you know how to do any sort of tumbling?'
"Uh, I can do some of the basics," he said playing with his hand, "Like toddler level," he muttered under his breath.
To his surprise, the older trainees didn't laugh at him at all. Instead, they gestured for him to come closer. "Well, before we risk breaking your neck, lets try a cartwheel and go from there."
It took him all week to get that cartwheel, showing it off during his evaluation. Earning a cheer from the friends he made and a nod of approval from the dance teacher that he was able to expand his skill set. He felt pride swell in his chest. But it quickly shrunk when he was pulled aside by one of the managers after leaving the practice rooms.
"So Chan, what do you think? Want to continue your training?" They asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him in the direction of the offices.
Chris had to think about it. There were so many things he wanted to learn and he'd already made so many friends. Maybe he could just finish out the year? "I guess I can keep training for a few more months."
"Great, I already spoke to your parents and drew up a contract all you have to do is sign." The manager slid a piece of paper across the table and handed him a pen.
For a moment, Chris just stared at it, trying to skim over the words. He looked to the bottom and saw his parents signatures. Well if its good enough for them then I guess I can sign.
With a sigh he began to sign his name on the paper not certain of what he was getting himself into.
4 Fucking years.
It'd been four years and almost every person he'd grown close to either left or debuted. He'd be lucky if he got to hang out with any of his friends once a month, if that. And he was stuck in those same practice rooms, as a new wave of young trainees came in, a warning to those that were remaining that they were becoming old news. Some of his friends had stopped wanting to be idols completely and instead transitioned to producers, or managers instead, and Chris was oh so tempted to follow in their footsteps.
The first couple of years he was seen as the younger brother, or just a friend. everyone wanting to talk with him and take care of him. but now he was the one taking care of other, having to guide the new and confused trainees. No one had the time to check in with him. His teachers didn't have the energy to pay attention to him. And he felt like there was only so much he could learn. How much longer did he have to parade himself around like this to achieve a dream he wasn't even sure about in the first place.
"Chanie~" A female idol came running up to him, "The put me on a diet again, can I use your meal coupons?"
Instead of handing him over like he usually would he looked her up and down with judgement, "You've asked me every day for the last week. Do you think I don't want to eat either?"
She looked at him with a hurt expression, jeez, you can give half the Sixteen cast your meals but not me?" her voice was sour as she turned away.
Chris didn't want to be mean, but he just couldn't stand the status quo anymore. Normally he'd learn a new skill or go to the gym. The gym was full, and he was already working on his flips, so there was only one thing he could think to try.
"Can I learn how to produce?" He said, barging into his managers office. He'd listened in on so many meetings at this point it was harder to find someone in the company who didn't know who he was.
"You're already racking up enough debt already, are you sure you want to add this into the mix, you'll have to rent a studio space, get some personal equipment. This would almost double your debt."
Chris had heard the spiel before, and waved his hand. "Yeah sure whatever, just give me the bill or whatever."
"Chan, are you acting reckless again? Need me to set up an appointment?" The manager looked at him.
"What? No?" He defended, "I've been thinking about producing for a while now, and it's not like you have any groups planned for a while." He scoffed.
"Okay," they said skeptically handing over the statement.
Chris quickly scribbled his name, the signatures becoming less legible as the years went on. "So when do I get to start?"
"In about three hours," They said, waving him out of the office.
As soon as Chris was outside the door he began to bite his nails, sure, producing was something he wanted to do, but he worried that it wouldn't be enough to quell his anger.
"Surgery?" Chris asked in surprise. "I didn't think I needed surgery."
"Well we were waiting for you to loose most of that baby fat before we said anything but, there is some work we'd prefer you get done, and since we have no plans for our male trainees at the moment this is the perfect time." The evaluator said.
"Is there anything I can do without surgery?" he asked. Chris would do anything to succeed, but changing his face, it didn't seem right. He'd seen the pain other trainees went thorough, and he was already in enough debt as it is.
The evaluator scoffed, "I don't think anything besides surgery can fix that nose, but, you could do a little skin brightening, you've lost most of your tan but we can even out that tone. And do you think you could start straightening your hair, the curls don't do you many favors."
Chris pressed his nails to his palm to keep his reaction stable, just nodding. "And will this increase my chances of debuting?"
"Well, you can rap, dance, and produce, there are plenty of idols with below average looks that can get away with that, but if you fix the face it lets your groups more ads, and that's where the money is." they explained.
"So it won't change my chances of debuting?" He said, narrowing his eyes.
"If you look like you'll make the company more money, they'll surely debut you." They reminded.
Chris bit his lip in thought, "I'll have to think about it." was the answer he settled on.
"Well, here's a sample of this brightening cream, if you like those results we can start you on that plan." They grinned, handing him a small jar.
Chris held the container tightly in his hand and bowed his head to dismiss himself.
That night he spent almost an hour in the bathroom poking and prodding at his face, the more he looked art his imperfections the more surgery didn't seem like a bad idea. They used good doctors, and there were ways to not make it hurt. He'd always made jokes about his nose but would changing it really be a bad thing. He also looked at the the brightening cream resting on the counter, It wouldn't burn, he's accidently used it before, and people always told him he was pale, this was just to change his complexion, he wouldn't turn ghostly white. Plus he'd be going to Australia again soon and he'd be able to tan there if he did get too pale for his liking.
Before he could actually make a choice a loud crashing sound interrupted his thought, causing him to rush out of the room.
The end of the year evaluations were always the hardest. It was when the ones that were "too old" finally got cut loose and replaced with younger trainees. Or the ones they felt racked up too much debt with little chance of a return on investment through debuting. That's not even covering the usual rejections of evaluations. Chris has seen how the stress affects the others , it's gotten to him too. He should be more stressed since he was going into his 5th year but he couldn't bring himself to care enough. For a while he'd been struggling with depression, but rarely talked about it, even to his idol friends. Learning how to produce defiantly got his mind off of it and let him actually work through things. Rather than feeling angry now he was just sort of numb.
That's why when one of the trainees in his new group called him out, he didn't bother correcting him or pulling the seniority card, he just waved his hand and got into position again. That seemed to piss him off even more.
"You want to keep pouting around or do you actually want to practice?" the trainee scoffed.
For some reason that struck Chris and he glared at him, "Just play the song again."
The other wasn't listening, "Oh, now you want to talk."
"If we keep talking there's going to be less time to practice. It is the end of the year, so we as much studio time as possible." Chris said simply going to replay the music himself.
There was an uneasy tension in the room, and Chris knew it was due to his developing apathy but couldn't bring himself to fake more energy than he needed.
After a couple days he thought the tension had dissipated, all of them being too tied to remember their petty feuds. He thought the routine was going well and they wouldn't get too much criticism.
They worked and worked and worked, the groups confidence growing as they were soon able to do their dance with out thinking. No one was injured and it wasn;t too vocally challenging, they all should've made it.
But Chris knew better.
As he was gathering his things after their group evaluations were finished the locker room door burst open. "Did you know? Sitting in with all those executives, did you hear them say they were going to drop me?"
Chris just looked the trainee up and down, "Frankly I barely remember your name, and it's probably not a name that would tick out to me anyway."
That caused him to get madder, "Well, since this was my last shot I don't have to worry about getting back into the entertainment industry," He smirked, his hands grabbed onto Chris's collar and shoved him into the wall of short lockers the sound or rattling metal radiating through the room, causing whoever wasn't already paying attention to gather around.
"Go on," Chris sighed, "Hit me."
That caused the trainee to hesitate, "What? Don't you want to fight back?"
"Not really," Chris shrugged, "Do you want me to? Need a reason to justify taking out your anger on me?"
"How can you not care?" He said, loosening his grip.
"I just wanna take a nap," Chris shook his head.
"You've been here for almost five years, have become the golden boy of the company I you could care less about passing the hardest evaluation of the year when you could be kicked out at any moment?" His grip tightened again his own words making him angrier.
Before Chris even processed what was happening he felt a throbbing pain on his left eye and was sitting on the ground. He looked to the trainee who had a look of regret plastered across his face. "It's okay."
The whole room gasped.
Chris stood up and continued packing his things. "Don't get the wrong idea, I could most likely take you in an actual fight, you're pretty skinny." He reminded, while he might not care he wasn't going to be perceived as a push over. "I get it, you're stressed, it feels like the whole world is going to end and I'm the trainee that seemingly has the most going for him. It's normal to feel like this. Besides, they don't do evaluations in January so I'll have plenty of time to heal up for the next one."
"But-" The trainee could only watch as Chris walked past them and walked out of the door.
Chris kept reflecting on his situation. He was basically at the debut level for all his training, he didn't have any inspiration for his songs at the moment, and they were bringinging a new wave of trainees again. So if he didn't want to go to the building for a couple of days and just relax in the dorms, he could. And that's what he did.
Except a few days quickly turned to a couple of weeks.
There was the occasional check in from his roommates, but he just didn't have the motivation to get out of bed. He even opted to do his first evaluation solo just so he could have more time to himself.
Of course Chris couldn't starve himself so if he wasn't in his room he was often seen at the local connivence store.
"Chanie?" A familiar voice called out.
Of all the people Chris was expecting to see Jihyo wasn't one of them. "Oh, hey."
"What did you do to your eye?" she said, ignoring his personal space by grabbing his chin and turning his partially healed face to show the bruising more clearly.
Chan pushed her hand away, "It's fine, besides the guy got kicked out anyway. What's going on with you?"
"Being a rookie is exhausting, I thought the show was rough, but this is- Wow."
"You waited ten years and you still can't handle it?" He tilted his head.
Jihyo shrugged he shoulders, "We all know you can prepare all you want but that doesn't make the real thing any easier. Especially now that PDnim is constantly in my ear."
Chris couldn't help but laugh. "He's bad enough as it is. JB hyung complains all the time in the studio, I wonder what its like for you guys."
"Oh it's so hard not to laugh. Especially since he gives choreography direction."
Chris covered his eyes and mad a disgusted expression, "Oh god, why can I picture that so well?"
Jihyo couldn't help but let out an amused laugh. "Thank you for feeling my pain." She quickly turned to the digital clock displayed above the cashier. "I gotta run, remember, take care of yourself."
Those last words went in one ear and out the other as Chris eventually dragged himself back to the building. He didn't need to practice, is what he told himself. They had another week until evaluations and he'd scraped by before. And it wasn't like he had anyone left to impress, those newbies were too nervous to care about him and would look at him awe just from hearing how long he survived.
Well that mentality went on for the next 6 and a half days.
Chris would've panicked, but he knew it was too late, so he would go in there and wing it. Something he'd rarely done since coming there, but now he could really see how much they really wanted him
"Chan-" the instructor said. "I don't know what's gotten into you but that was one of the wort performances I have ever seen from you. It's been four years, you shouldn't be getting out performed by people who only got here a week ago. As much as this hurts me I'm going to have to give you a strike."
Chris knew it didn't hurt. He'd had the suspicion they've been trying to get rid of him for years but they just needed a reason to. It didn't matter, he could go back to Australia and finish school. This was all just an experiment.
Those thoughts kept plaguing his head until he heard an arrogant laugh come from a nearby practice room. "Oh how did I get in, I'm a bit of a rap genius if I do say so myself, I should debut within a couple years." A trainee gloated.
Instead of rolling his eyes and walking away, something about that lit up a spark that had been missing from his life for a while. Instead of going home to sit in his bed for another night he made his way to the studio.
The next week he came back with a new confidence and had to fight to maintain the grin on his face.
He bowed to the room full of trainees and the set of teachers at the front.
"Hello, This is Bang Chan, and I will be performing a song I made."