Chapter Text
The world they lived in… Well, it hurt. Starting young, training until they felt as if their bones were going to snap in half, forced to learn to speak certain ways, training to be perfect. Perfect to the company eyes, perfect to the world’s eyes. No one really wanted to know the behind the scenes when it came to training purposes. The world was the consumer. They didn’t care if the trainees were beaten, scolded, threatened, etc. No. They only cared about the end product. The end product being a fully formed, perfect music group full of young adults, sometimes even children, to provide them with a parasocial relationship and music to match. All just to take their money.
When explained this way, why would anyone want to do it?
Joohyun wanted to do nothing else. She didn’t care about the ruthless staff managers. Didn’t care about the endless nights of dance practices or vocal lessons. She didn’t even care about the endless lessons she had to take just to speak as if she lived in Seoul all her life. No. She wanted to be an idol. Craved the dream. She did well in school, her parents never entertaining the idea at first, thinking she was nuts since they were from Daegu. Daegu people never went into the city to be idols. They were country folk. It was a dumb idea. But there she was, learning to speak just like Seoul people… Learning the dialect.
All because one person couldn’t understand a word she said when she spoke to them. She remembered the laughter, the nervous laugh that came with the familiar phrase. The one her parents warned her about the second she stepped one foot onto the city streets. That they would think she was uneducated because of the way she spoke.
She was far from. Graduated with top marks, highest in the class… But now? Now she was compared to an idiot just because her dialect was different. Everything else about her? She was told she was beautiful. That her height was perfect to match her beauty, that she could lose a bit more weight, but not too much. She would have to exercise, learn media training, and even focus her entire life on just that. The intense grilling process was what scared her the most. The invasive interview that came after she was selected as a trainee. Every trainee went through it. Asking for all sorts of things from the past, asking if there would be anything that would cause any kind of controversy.
Bae Joohyun had nothing. Model student. Nice to people when she interacted with them. Came from a loving home. It didn’t take long for her words to match the search the company pulled, happy with their results. The fact that Joohyun wasn’t a liar. Truthful. Someone to keep close. When she was confirmed and allowed to go through the rest of her training process, she only asked for one thing. One little thing that the company listened to.
“My life… I like to keep private. I don’t like strangers knowing about what I do when I go home to my family.”
A simple request that was honored.
Soon, she met others, watching them come and go. Of course she didn’t speak to them, not wanting them to misunderstand her words. She was still working on her own dialect, still learning to speak normally to them.
Until she met others that spoke just like she did.
Kang Seulgi. Park Sooyoung.
Two idiots that spoke just like she did if not worse. Seulgi introduced her to Sooyoung, the two getting along somewhat well in the trainee dorm. It wasn’t a horrible idea, Sooyoung seemed nice, much younger than them, but everything seemed to be working out just fine. At least until she started to speak more casually. Seulgi bit back a smile while Joohyun just stared at her.
Had that been how she sounded?
“Where are you from?” Joohyun asked with a small laugh.
“Jeju!” Sooyoung answered, clearer this time around, a shy smile on her lips as her cheeks tinted red.
“Unnie is from Daegu.” Seulgi explained, allowing the youngest of the three to let out a small gasp.
“When I first came, they all said I sounded like some country idiot.” Joohyun laughed. “I now see why.”
The three of them, Daegu, Ansan, and Jeju. All similar dialects, each one growing worse as they went from oldest to youngest. It allowed Joohyun to feel better, allowing her to feel as if they were going to get along well.
At the same time, across the river, just over the bridge, another company stood. Much, much smaller. Maybe four floors if they counted from the ground up. Six if they included the underground parking floor and basement studios. Another girl sat in the high practice room, staring out at the river from the slightly opened window. She stared out at the city skyline, wondering just exactly how she got there. She auditioned, and got in, sure, that was the easy part. Nothing about her life had been this kind of special. Throwing herself into minor debt since her parents had really allowed her to do such a thing.
People from Daejeon didn’t just become idols. Nothing about it seemed normal. She remembered her friends in school telling her that she wasn’t going to make it, that she was never going to make it as far as Seoul. But that wasn’t what the company said when she walked in for her audition. Each one complimenting her beauty, her height, and then her singing. Yeah, it wasn’t perfect, but it was so... light, airy, perfect for a specific vibe or concept. She was refreshing. Her dancing was on par with an intermediate skill, allowing her to pass with flying colors.
Not that she knew that. Not that she was aware that she had any kind of skill. No. She still had her friends in her ear, telling her she wasn’t good enough to be like the Seoul kids.
Everyone knew that. Everyone knew that people from Seoul, the children were something else. A different breed really. Their kids at five years old were expected to be some sort of prodigies, forced to speak three languages by the time they entered their first year of school. Able to read and write, do math… All while she grew up being thrown outside, throwing dirt, eating dirt, digging holes, scraping knees… She wasn’t anything like the Seoul kids. So, how did she even make it this far?
“Jiu! Come on! We’re getting dinner!”
Jiu, a cute name her mother gave her, allowing her to follow it. Her real name, Minji, had been rare back home. But here in Seoul? Everyone was named Minji. There were three other Minji’s in the company alone. So she chose to go by her own nickname that her mother provided for her since day one.
The dark-haired woman turned, smiling at the group of women that were much older than her. Already taking care of her, making sure she didn’t starve while she trained under them. She hopped to her feet, running to the door.
“Coming!” She shouted.
It was so different.
Her training regimen was simple. Work out, eat healthy, dance practices, vocal lessons, some media training, and acting lessons. Nothing too intense. At least not for her. It wasn’t like she was stuck in a classroom learning how to graph an equation that did not make sense in her head. How were letters and numbers supposed to make a curve? The only thing she knew was how to write ‘boobs’ on a calculator and then turn it upside down so it actually looked like the word. That was it.
But now it was like she was in another kind of school. One that seemed fun and one that she wanted to be in. Expensive as hell, but worth it. At least she hoped.
As time went further on, she met her best friend in the entire world, psyched that she was younger than her. Word got around that some sort of vocal angel showed up, and Minji was curious as hell. Sneaking out of practice, running down the hall, ignoring the calls from her teachers. She was the youngest in the entire company up until that point. She was allowed to get away with anything.
Peeking around the slightly opened door, she saw the girl, no older than maybe seventeen. Maybe sixteen. Teenager for sure. Minji couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face. This girl was going to be her best friend. She felt it in her heart and soul.
“Hi! I’m Kim Minji, but everyone calls me Jiu here.” She quickly introduced, stepping out of the hidden hall to walk closer to the girl that sat next to her assumed mother. The girl wasn’t that open, wasn’t that cheery… But Minji didn’t care.
Which was exactly why she was her best friend. The two inseparable, giggling and the most idiotic things. Laughing at everything in the trainee house. It only got worse when they met Bora. Minji doing the exact same thing, introducing herself, this time with Siyeon right behind her. Bora seemed, angrier… a little less fun. At least until they all found out they spoke the same dialect.
“I’m from Daegu.” Siyeon boasted while they walked along the riverbed under the bridge.
“Daejeon.” Minji introduced as she hopped on top of a boulder.
“Changwon.” Bora answered as she pushed some of her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be down here?” She asked quietly, rushing to Minji who was comfortably looking around the river.
“Yeah, as long as we don’t physically hurt ourselves and don’t go missing the company kinda doesn’t care.” Minji shrugged her shoulders, sitting on the boulder. “So, miss Bora. Maybe you need to have a bit of fun. Didn’t you have a good childhood?” She asked.
“I had a good childhood!” Bora snapped.
“So then you know what this is?” Siyeon asked, holding up a flat rock.
“Oh, I love this game.” Minji giggled as she hopped off the boulder.
“Skipping rocks? Isn’t that an old person’s game?” Bora asked.
“Not when you’re aiming at seagulls.” Siyeon smiled.
Was it bad? Sure. Was it fun? Of course. As the sun started to set, the trio were bursting into laughter, watching as Minji chucked a rock into the air, trying to hit a seagull that flew away from them as they were skipping rocks at it. They were inseparable since that night. Ignoring everything else in the world, not daring to try and break any rules like the Seoul kids would have. Maintaining their childhoods, enjoying the fun that came with just being a kid.
Everything was so different across the river.