Chapter Text
as soon as yuna finished tracing the final leg of the ghost ladder, yeji knows they are all absolutely, positively fucked.
the grins from the right side of the table where yuna and jisu were grabbing each other—both of them absolutely mystified as to how they managed to luck into being roommates for their third apartment in a row—vanish quickly although they rapidly overcorrect and start loudly celebrating again. they’re on camera after all and no one needs to get the wrong idea.
yeji, who is stuck between the remaining pair glancing at each other apprehensively or maybe even aggressively, had shot into the air with joy a minute earlier when she had drawn her own line, indicating that she would be receiving the solo room of their newest apartment. as soon as the pen falls out of yuna’s hand, however, yeji falls back into her chair as her knees give out. to anyone else, it probably would have looked like if she had just clumsily fallen over but in reality, it’s her body’s reaction to realizing what the split lines mean.
that their resident pair of members born in 2001 were to be left to share the other double room of their third apartment.
together.
shit.
yeji can clearly remember wondering to herself what they would do about it all when they learned who was on the debut team.
she had been a bit surprised about yuna’s addition to the debut team but not utterly, with somi gone and with their boss' (somewhat disturbing) tradition of young maknaes, her inclusion was not out of the question. she was always amongst the gaggle of trainees that had been matching with the four all-but-confirmed older members and fit the styling well, with a sweet personality too.
as she remembered it, back then during evaluations, ryujin and chaeryeong were almost always first or second, if not on top then bumped down by each other (with the occasional interruption of yeji and eventually jisu to their streaks.) chaeryeong was quiet and solitary, the definition of impressive with her expansive experience and assured position in the next debut group for better or worse while ryujin was cheerily and popular, so often asked to perform choreographies to be filmed and leading groups to grab food. jisu's place was probably cemented when she completed her first solo song of their monthly evaluations, then made concrete by the dance skills that she rapidly improved upon until she was formidable enough in her own right. similarly, yeji clawed her way up the ranks as a singer, matching her position as an intimidating force with her performance skills. the fan had certified her presence, just had mixnine and sixteen for ryujin and chaeryeong respectively. honestly, yeji was expecting more people but with how girl groups were trending, five had made sense at the time.
she really should've expected everything that happened next. now, she regrets not doing something earlier, building a bridge before the cavern expanded, then imploded.
she can so clearly picture that day they were told that their current lineup would actually be debuting, sitting at that conference table and jumping out of her chair to grab ryujin’s hands and watching yuna wrap jisu and chaeryeong in a tight hug, two groups separated by some invisible until she was left wondering how the hell this was supposed to work.
the funniest thing about it all though was that they used to be quite close, or at least so the rumors around the trainee building swirled. when ryujin first arrived as a trainee, chaeryeong was thrilled after being years younger than everyone else for so long — or at least, so the walls whispered and chaeryeong herself had claimed on a live stream that yuna was present for and liked to whine about as ryujin quickly changed the subject and chaeryeong refused to elaborate on.
but yeji would know better than anyone else that chaeryeong can be unreadable, with half-a-dozen years of both formal and informal media training accompanied by an extremely cautious personality. chaeryeong has yet to be caught in a controversy due to a slip of the tongue, by far the best record of the group, and was genuinely gifted at not only reading scripts but salvaging them into something that seemed natural. even if she’s the group’s leader, she’s never been in charge of their image management, and yeji has no doubts that chaeryeong could lie about something like that with ease, make up some kind of story with the impressive memory retention skills and stubborn determination to keep the ruse going. yeji had been a victim of chaeryeong’s acting skills while playing mafia too many times to not suspect statements like that but more importantly, she watches content of the five of them and can clearly see how good of an actress chaeryeong is in moments when she forgets that two of the members refuse to be in a room alone together because on screen, chaeryeong makes it look like they don’t.
and yet, they apparently had been inseparable (which yeji is of the opinion is an overstatement, she can't even imagine the pair like that), then something had happened between and the year later that yeji and yuna had joined? nothing.
the gossip mill amongst the trainees had always been extreme (what else would you expect from a group of grade-school-aged teenagers interested pursuing the arts with a necessitated flair for the dramatics) and had cycled through pretty much every shitty drama plot line, claiming everything from long-lost twin family members to cancer diagnoses but all of them fizzled out until the topic was dropped altogether. after all, it was chaeryeong, nothing could ever cause her to jeopardize her career and it was ryujin, perpetually logic-driven as she was. then again, it was chaeryeong, who smiled like the sun but glared with fire and ryujin, who was scary when she didn't try to be. all echoes had died down even before jisu joined the quartet. most of the trainees from around that time had left long ago anyway when a group debuted, leaving only just the pair behind who certainly weren’t clarifying anything.
before their debut stage yeji talks to them both, she’s the leader after all and that’s her job—-of sorts. eventually, after an impressively uncomfortable group discussion session in which they had danced around the elephant in the room with incredible agility, jisu calls them out. neither ryujin or chaeryeong even tried to disagree with the accusation either — a fact that hadn’t surprised yeji in the slightest. civility was formally established and that’s really all they could ask for.
after all, they had know each other for the longest of the group — everyone did in such a small group but more so everyone knew they didn't get along — not in a big blowout argument sense but in a we both want the same thing and we cannot be bothered by others, yet you’re my only real competition for the top spot sense.
it was the kind of relationship that mnet would blow up on one of their competition shows, not that they would ever fight on stage or be drawn to anything that extreme but with just enough awkward pauses and cleared throats to make space for the inevitable slow-motion cuts with dramatic sound effects they’d edit in to fit perfectly. yuna tried the editing herself once—cutting up one of their group doran doran sessions, in fact, much to the amusement of jisu and the disdain of yeji.
that's how they've always been; ryujin follows through with her punches and chaeryeong — as the only one of them who can really push back, does.
but so long as it stays off camera, who cares? they're debuting and nothing can shadow that.
whether living with it was better than the rumors of them hating each other getting dropped alongside articles about their group name and first ever song release, yeji’s not sure.
thankfully, no news about awkwardness pre-debut was released and because they’re all a little awkward during their first round of promotions, no one gives it much notice.
really, a part of their job is an element of constant performance anyways. yeji spends as much time kissing up to their boss and the variety of vaguely concerning men (that really only have host positions because of hierarchies of misogyny in their industry) as she does singing.
ryujin, for how much she may appear girl crush as they say, still understands how to play the game and laughs on cue with the terrible jokes that poke too hard at each of their still scabbing wounds from their trainee days only in the recent past. she pulls faces and pushes the envelope, of course, but never too far, at least not in the beginning.
chaeryeong, for all of her instinctive filial piety, surprisingly does the opposite. she laughs when she finds things funny but doesn’t churn out the excessive reactions that would get her more screen time and when hosts make comments that she’s not happy with, she will offer a response.. as much as yeji wants to admire her honesty, and she really would, it would be a bit more commendable if it didn’t coincide with her lack of interest with ryujin’s tricks
no one ever said that they had to have the same sense of humor — and oddly enough, they often do — but it’s the stark contrast that people notice between them when chaeryeong mentions that she finds ryujin unbearable on their own show. when their company's pr team sits them all down for interview practice sessions but takes those two aside, it takes no genius to figure out why. they get assigned pet names, actually, which causes yuna to laugh so hard that she starts choking when she sees ryujin reluctantly change chaeryeong’s contact in her phone in preparation for posting a screenshot of their group chat to bubble. it makes sense, they only ever talk about their trainee days when filming content together because the pair have literally nothing else to bring up but it’s weird all the same.
they get better after that, moving from avoidant to vaguely awkward to simply each other's secondary (or perhaps even tertiary) choices within the group. it seems to be enough. their situation TM takes the back-burner after some time, fans just sort of accepting whatever it is they are. they even seem to like the duo together, much to chaeryeong’s apparent discomfort. the pair are actually even nicknamed an old married couple which is more than a bit amusing to yeji — who’s much more comfortable with the skinship (requirements? yeji has never really been sure if they’re just unspoken recommendations or something more formal than that but it’s not coincidental that they are often instructed to play games comparing their hand size or that involve their faces increasingly close together) than the aforementioned duo. they do sort of bicker like one though, that much yeji will agree too, at least during the times when they’re on camera.
off-camera though, it’s always been a different world. things cut deeper there, just as is to be expected of reality.
it’s fine though, because that’s always been how their group operates. they naturally separate into two groups, as ryujin and yeji spend their time together like they had when they were trainees while yuna, jisu and chaeryeong have always been closer with the latter being the most introverted and thus, preferring alone time despite the divide. nothing is awkward about the situation because this is how things are, this is how things have always been. yeji goes on outings with everyone, and yuna and jisu may serve as bridges but this is how their world works.
everything had been fine. or at least civil but moving the gruesome twosome — as jisu had once nicknamed them after a particularly bad game of monopoly — into the same room together had proven to be just that, gruesome.
it works out okay in the beginning, after all, this system is almost half a decade old, the skirmishes of the past are long gone. ryujin and chaeryeong are simply that, ryujin and also chaeryeong: two very separate entities that both live and work together with a relationship that ends there. they don’t argue unless it’s on screen, mostly because they don’t speak to each other otherwise and see each other even less by choice. yeji relates it to her relationship with their seniors that she hardly ever sees because of their schedules: polite, somewhat awkward, and mostly due to proximity.
or at least, that’s how it used to work, before they began to live in the same room.
at first, ryujin and chaeryeong try to take turns, giving each other time alone in the shared space. yuna and jisu are both very much outdoor people (not in the nature-sense, but in the living room one) so they've never had issues with getting tangled in each other's personal bubbles. they’re also both extroverts who get lonely easily; they enjoy being around other people so them being roommates works out excellently; (yeji also happens to be thriving in her solo room). but ryujin and chaeryeong are both prone to lying in bed all day when they're not working, which doesn't work well with two people that tend to launch at each other's throats when together for too long.
out of boredom, self-deprecation, or something else that yeji's not sure of —-even though she knows ryujin like the back of her hand, ryujin pushes and pushes until chaeryeong retaliates, deeper and harsher than the older girl expects every time. it’s little things, small spats about little things like clothes or perfume or whatever else that ryujin can find to comment on which snowballs into much larger and more problematic arguments. it's probably because they are so similar, yeji has always figured, but ever so slightly different that the conflict is inevitable. they understand each other just a bit too much to not be able to find each other's disarming points with ease but also fundamentally will never get each other either.
occasionally the arguments are loud, more often they're not so yeji has no idea what they are about. if their team chemistry wasn’t taking such an extreme hit that they can all feel, yeji would have half a mind to think everything is fine.
but ryujin makes more mistakes in a week than she has since their debut combined and chaeryeong snaps at yuna for the first time ever. they're both cranky and sensitive to the extent that when one even so much as mentions anything about the other, all hell breaks loose.
chaeryeong disappears constantly; her family lives nearby so that's not an issue but she never tells anyone when she leaves—which is a issue. eventually, jisu makes her agree to at least give out that much information to their managers for safety reasons but it’s a shock to yeji’s system — a new reality that she can't quite wrap her head around.
things change rapidly after that. ryujin spends more time out too, her driver’s license letting her travel significantly further which turns out to be its own problem entirely. it's not until a heated conversation between ryujin and one of their managers about a tracker that had apparently been connected to her car when yeji realizes things are far worse than she thought.
that's it, really, the start of the end.
chaeryeong signs for an apartment with her sister three days after an argument that leaves everyone’s ears ringing and both participating girls’ cheeks stained with tears. yeji joins on the lease and effectively divides their group in half.
it’s her job as a leader, after all.
yeji, jisu, ryujin and chaeryeong aren’t yuna’s parents, no matter how much their fans like to joke about it — they’re too close in age to feel like that. but when all the dust settles, yeji can’t help but liken her situation to a divorce as she packs her things in a cardboard box with a misty-eyed jisu in the hallway, yuna doing an absolutely horrible job of hiding behind her (and an even worse job of subtly hiding her tears) as her little family irrevocably severed in a way that she couldn’t have imagined.
everything is a lot quieter after that, calmer even but also somehow, the silence is deafening. yeji tries to visit often in the beginning; ryujin almost certainly wants her there but it feels suffocating. it must be hard to live in a space that used to house a life you’ll never get back. ryujin hovers around for the next few weeks (even during schedules) like a ghost, losing her best friend and probably who she considers her worst enemy in one fell swoop, with only more reason to hate chaeryeong because of it.
maybe that’s why it feels like a divorce, because yeji’s caught in the middle.
yeji and chaeryeong try to come back for dinners every week, which quickly starts getting stretched to monthly and eventually almost never. either way, it doesn’t help. ryujin snaps even more, if that were possible, at the few chances they all get to see each other. chaeryeong, who used to silently take the childish taunting for much longer periods of time, fires back immediately with a ferocity that only aggravates ryujin further. eventually, their schedules begin to stress everyone out and also, become few and farther between.
ryujin moves into her own apartment two months after chaeryeong had made her own announcement. yuna helps her set up an extensive sequence of cat towers that are promptly ignored by the creatures that she adopted days after emptying out her last box. it’s lonely, a solitude that should be comforting but feels more like a fog that weighs down the air. jisu moves back in with her parents a few weeks later and yuna can’t maintain the smile that she’s been trying to paint on her face for months.
yuna is the only one still left in the original dorm, but for some reason, yeji feels like the one who’s gone missing.
[ - - - ]
their latest comeback has been hard.
not that they aren't always but after a couple was released including a member of their senior groups alongside an additional reveal of the controversial past of a trainee set for the debut team of their company’s newest boy group overarchingly causing some serious questioning of company security and sensibility, everything was rushed to an even greater extent. the girls were sent to additional variety programs to flood out the articles which meant more scrutiny, more attention, and of course, more pressure in the ever-evolving and even more unforgiving industry they call home.
there's more demand now too, with a new generation of younger girl groups apparently ‘coming for their titles’ (whatever those “titles” might be, yeji certainly wouldn't know and doesn't get to choose). she and her members might not want to pick a fight but it seems like everyone else wants them to as their company sticks them with an album release time to fit western markets and a concept probably meant for their home country.
the album recording itself is smooth, mostly because it's done separately except for the few days they all put down the ad-libs and harmonies that are to be done as a group. unsurprisingly, there aren't many — why would jyp let them sing in their songs other than the obligatory ballad when they could be replaced by an electronic synth chorus and nonsense shouted in the background? (yeji isn’t bitter at all). and anyways, there are cameras pointed in their faces throughout the process for the behind-the-scenes documentary; no matter how bad things get, none of them would ever try anything on camera.
the combined jacket and music video shoot is even easier, with all of them filming on location for each of their individual scenes, other than during the choreography scenes, making it easy to separate certain people (rather than building sets — jyp entertainment is on another so-called "environmental" kick and has taken a stance against the creation of ‘single-use entertainment structures’; yeji doubts that mentality will last long but she certainly enjoyed the beach trip she got to take to while on location for chaeryeong's individual scenes).
they've stopped counting the number of different dance practice versions released; yeji is genuinely impressed with the new and creative ways their team have discovered to dress them up and pass off the same song and choreography over again as something new. honestly, it’s like being rookies again and as horrible as it all sounds, parts of it are quite fun. the content is more structured again with clear scripts and games rather than free conversation time, which means yeji does less babysitting and clean-up. anyways, she’s always liked filming dance practices and content for their fans with her members, even when it gets exhausting.
all of the members collapse whenever they get home (the separate ones, not that their fans know that) and not due to that endorphin-rushed, post-workout feeling either. actually, the girls are so tired that no one has the energy to argue, their dance studio returning to the state of being an unspoken sanctuary where no one was allowed to argue that it was during their debut, back when yeji still had at least an upper placement in the group rankings, back when any of them actually entertained the possibility that she might be intimidating.
all things considered, yeji takes it everything well, if you were to ask her. she genuinely likes their title track this time around and that lends itself to a feeling of pride as the records stack up.
and stack up they do, as the girls meet up more often to film even more thank you videos than ever before, accompanied by even more schedules to meet the fans that made it happen, filling their days with even more interaction in an impressively draining fashion. between the new season of a game show for their own channel, guesting on various shows, and attending both music shows and the fan meetings that follow directly afterwards, yeji is surprised they’re all still standing to be completely honest.
yuna was as yuna ever is, all the energy they could need, growing constantly in stage presence and height by the minute. well, she’s probably stopped growing, she’s not only a legal adult but has been for a long time, even if that will never really register for yeji. yuna still thrives on the love and the support they receive at every turn, each honeyed word that leaves her lips (that if anyone else tried to speak, would sound cheesy at best) full of a sincerity that only their youngest member could manage. she smiles brightly throughout even the hardest of practices and yeji is, was, and probably will always be forever grateful for her almost magical healing power.
ryujin and jisu have it a bit rougher — at least, to an extent: the latter pushing out notes daily that were never meant to be her vocal range and the former taking the center for stage after stage with raps written by someone who has clearly never tried to breathe through their choreographies before, both pulling out herculean amounts of strength to perform on and off stage. but they too live for the moments on camera, meeting with fans through both screens and in person, honestly fueled by the interactions. jisu's eyes form miniature crescents after each fan calls her name, ryujin's whiskers grow with excitement from the cheers during their live music shows and yeji finds herself grinning at the sight of them.
nonetheless, a comeback is a chance — most importantly — to perform and there is no one who does that quite like lee chaeryeong when in her zone.
she'd finally been given her own dance break this time around, a smooth section that involves several neck joint-dislocating hair flips, requires an objectively practically impossible amount of torso control, and ends with a floor sequence that probably would have made anyone else look like a fish out of the sea but that she flows through each day with water-like ease, that she fits like a glove and that no one can rip their eyes from when trying to monitor.
it's insanely difficult, even when they had received the first draft of the choreography, yeji had attempted to get the choreographers to adapt it but chaeryeong worked harder than ever before (which yeji wasn't sure was even possible) and it shows.
it was also that floor sequence that all four of her members had to watch absolutely destroy chaeryeong, yuna more than once literally catching her youngest unnie from almost collapsing as soon as the cameras cut in their ending formation due to sheer exhaustion. dancing for as long as she has been took a toll on her health long ago and her waist has never been particularly forgiving even when she wasn’t put under this amount of stress. add in the amount of time she spends going to solo variety shows as the calls continue to roll in, and the number of times those shows ask her to perform the sequence for their own sns channels and they all worry, anyone would. but they also know better than to do anything but wait by the wings with a water bottle and leave extra ice packs and muscle patches everywhere in hopes they'll get used. sometimes they do, sometimes they don't but the pain is plain on her face either way. no amount of caffeine can cover a dark circle and no amount of concealer can un-hollow your eyes.
it all becomes worth it though, although likely that depends on one’s definition of ‘worth’.
her skills receive praise like never before from midzys, professional dancers, and non-fans alike. viral clips of her circulate everywhere. the floor sequence section catches on like a wildfire online, popping up all over the internet and spawning thousands of (admittedly subpar, not that yeji would ever say that about their fans out loud but it's not like there would ever be realistic competition anyways) cover attempts. it probably exceeds the popularity of ryujin's shoulder dance or yeji's dalla dalla ad-libs, and as much as they both pull faces during variety show shoots when asked about it, no one can do anything but agree; this comeback chaeryeong has glowed with an intensity almost blinding and as enticing as the sun.
chaeryeong, however, sees none of it.
she has her own driver's license now (jisu's the only one who doesn't, but only as of recently) so she can get herself to the company building and lock herself up in a practice room as soon as they get back from any recording for more self-imposed rehearsals.
strictly, they don't have to do that anymore (they're not rookies now even if the amount that they’re filming may seem like it, they’re not even the babies of the company anymore by a significant margin) but of course chaeryeong still does regulate her performance with a diligence that is as impressive as it is concerning.
painfully so, they all know that whatever is up must come down, but only chaeryeong truly understands the depth of the ‘down' the internet can give even if she might be at an 'up' in the moment. unlike yeji, who would be thrilled by this kind of success, chaeryeong is the kind of person who fears it, worries about the fallout, about never achieving anything similar again, and the backlash that comes with it. she clings onto anything and everything she consistently did in the past to repeat over again when so much is out of her control.
it's week two of promotions when it happens, the closing in on herself that yeji was not only used to but expecting. chaeryeong folds—not unlike a house of cards—in upon herself, communicating with everyone less and spending time alone even more. it’s not abnormal for chaeryeong to seek out her own spaces—she’s the textbook example of an introvert in so many situations, so it would make sense that during the stress of their promotional schedule, she’d seek solace to an even greater extent. but it's worrisome all the same, certainly unhealthy as she pours over criticisms and refuses to let anyone comfort her.
obviously, it's ryujin that notices her absence last even with the downright impressive empathy skills she has (well, perhaps empathy isn’t the right word, but yeji’s never met a better listener, even if it's not out of sympathy.) yuna just completely ignores any created barriers by quite literally laying herself across her members. yeji probably understands why it happens (the distancing) less than jisu, who also tends to seek solace during their promotional periods in being alone more than usual. but as their leader, yeji's always so busy running around and checking to make sure everyone else is at least alive and sane that chaeryeong diligently practicing is understandably not her first priority; it can't be.
they have to be ready, whatever it takes; yeji hates herself for it.
yeji has always thrived under the focus of a spotlight, the adrenaline rush comes with it making the attention more powerful than any drug and the only one she'll ever try. she's had more than her fair share of hatred thrown at her, sure, often due to things she can’t control but she’s certain that chaeryeong has always had the worst of it out of the five of them and for even longer than yeji’s been a trainee.
she can remember watching chaeryeong on tv when she was in middle school, how much that had shifted her plan of being a professional dancer to inspire her to audition for jyp. but chaeryeong had already been under public scrutiny from then onward, and as she got closer to debuting, the focus only got more skewed and hateful.
yeji can clearly remember their debut teasers, how excited they had all been on set, how unreal the fact that they were actually debuting felt. she can recall them sitting together in their practice room, supposed to be practicing for the eighth continuous hour but instead crouched around ryujin's tiny phone screen that displayed the letters itzy on the official channel. she had hit number one in brand reputation during dalla dalla , a fact that had felt like a victory until she stopped focusing on the comments about herself.
she had read that message chaeryeong's mother sent out (hadn't everyone by this point?) with yuna in her arms, the younger girl in tears after shoving the phone in yeji's face. she had broken down just as much, feeling like a failure of a leader for not realizing how bad it had gotten until chaeryeong had found them, sobbing, in the jyp artist lounge when taking a break from her own personal rehearsals that out of the five of them, everyone knew she didn't need.
chaeryeong is a dancer, if yeji’s ever seen one. as much as she can say that dancing is her own comfort ground, yeji can’t compare and she’s always known that.
no one can really,
chaeryeong has a fluidity entirely her own, not only unique to their industry but that’s she’s curated into something inimitable, a presence that can only be seen whenever the lights in their practice room turn low. she’s enticing when she moves and intoxicating when she spins. her technique is perfect but the way she’s surpassed relying on it—surpassed everyone else really, and created a style entirely own amazes yeji on the regular.
if dance is yeji’s passion, it’s chaeryeong’s lifeblood. if dance is itzy’s identity, it’s chaeryeong’s instinct.
even with how difficult their choreographies are—and mind you, they certainly are—yeji can't help but wonder if they hold chaeryeong back sometimes, if the challenge isn't quite enough. or really, if they made them more difficult or at least more suited to her skill set, chaeryeong would be able to showcase her ability more and people would comment less about other things. as if this promotional schedule isn’t a perfect example of that exact truth.
chaeryeong is a dancer, and no matter what cruelty they sling her way, no one can refute that.
so yeji can’t help but empathize with the time the younger girl spends in the rehearsal room, it’s like the time she spent in front of mirrors practicing her expressions that supposedly set her apart back during their debut, a voice that she still sometimes can’t rid herself of in the back of her head everytime she looks in a mirror for a split-second longer than her members: shouldn’t you want this, to be special, to be the one people look at in a crowd—this is how you do it.
their comeback rolls to a close (or at least, the time that they spent filming real-time events and pre-recording others at the same time), and yeji almost cries, the rest time seeming almost heaven sent.
unfortunately, that's when the world tour is announced though, and all hell breaks loose.
they try their best to be excited, after all, it's been years since they've gotten to travel to see their fans on stages but it's hard to look at a lengthy calendar of being on the road with barely any breaks in between with work to do the few times they get to fly back home and feel overjoyed. not to mention with everything that’s been happening behind the scenes, yeji’s not looking forward to being stuck on long plane/car/bus rides that will inevitably dissolve into arguments she will have to solve.
maybe their fans see the exhaustion in their faces during the announcement video because they trend a hashtag, or maybe two or three. yeji is grateful that so many of them are placing her girls' health over the chance to see them perform.
either way, they are all sensitive as work begins piling up again. ryujin cracks a risky joke, chaeryeong pulls a face, and yuna gets stuck playing referee all on a live stream. maybe that’s actually when the hashtags start, regardless, it gets to a point where people are writing articles about the strain of their schedules, and thankfully not about possible arguments between members. people notice jisu’s neck stretching equipment and chaeryeong’s extensive physical training as recovery techniques from chronic injury, connecting the dots that lead back to their company. rumors start that plans exist for trucks to get sent to the headquarters. yeji’s not really sure how she feels about it all but mafia in the morning playing at deafening volumes from giant speakers circling the building would be hard for anyone to stand for an entire day.
it turns out that the idea of it is enough; jyp doesn't cancel any of the dates but moves some around to give them more time to recuperate between shows and some off time in cities that yeji is sure will actually be used to film content, not as actual rest time
it seems nice enough though and both gets fans off the company’s back and makes nonfans to praise them for their treatment of their artists while also not really losing any profit or source of content, so, it's a win-win for the company. regardless of how yeji would like things handled, it looks better on paper, and no trucks are sent their way.
rehearsals start the following week.
ryujin walks in on the first day swinging, ready for a fight and chaeryeong is ready to give one. they are professional, of course, but a missed count or off beat is reason enough for correction, although the line between critique and cruelty is quickly crossed.