#ᴍꜱᴏʟᴏꜱ 💎

[hdmolan]

* ╱ ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥︎ …ʀᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ * ╱ ♥︎ 395 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ 2,198 ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ* ╱  ⤿ a self para

The girls, particularly Molan, were thrilled to arrive in Jeju. Molan recalled visiting the place several times as a young girl with her family, usually on private jet trips over the weekends. The beach house the girls would be at was stunning - the high ceilings and expansive windows exuded a luxurious beach vibe. As the girls got ready for their pajama scene in the promo shoot, they chatted excitedly about their dreams and aspirations as they sat in front of the mirrors, getting their hair and makeup done - the energy in the house was palpable. The girls had a sense of camaraderie and support as they encouraged each other and shared tips and tricks for looking their best on camera. Despite the pressure of the shoot, everyone remained calm and focused.

Molan found a moment to reflect on the day's events as the shoot ended. She felt a sense of accomplishment at having completed the task at hand, but there was still a yearning within her. She strongly desired to visit the beach - the water always brought her joy. She wore her favorite Fendi swimsuit and denim shorts and went to the shore, where the waves were crashing. The salty breeze caressed her face, and she felt a sense of peace. Being close to the vast body of water made her feel at ease. Molan had always been drawn to the ocean. As a child, she had spent countless hours playing in the waves, building sandcastles, and collecting seashells. Even as an adult, the ocean held a special place in her heart. She had always found a sense of mystical purification in the water. Being by the sea allowed her to lose herself in the moment and forget about the stresses of everyday life.

The island was an unexpected escape that she didn't realize she needed. The beach provided the perfect backdrop for her to unwind and recharge. The sound of the waves and the sun beginning to set was a balm to her soul. Eventually, Molan reluctantly made her way back to the beach house. But she knew that she would be back at the beach soon. The ocean had a way of calling to her, and she couldn't resist its siren song. She felt grateful for the unexpected escape and knew it had given her the energy to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.

[hdmolan]

* / ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥︎ 𝚂𝚆𝙰𝙽 𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶, 𝙰 𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙵 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙰

●︎ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ — december 18th, 2022 ●︎ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ — solstice night ●︎ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 1,111 words 6,432 characters

Molan laughed on the phone with her mother as she stood on the north wings terrace, slightly away from the noise of the event. her mother insisted on extending her visit to South Korea to bare witness to her more or less official activities, still Molan declined. It was all for appearances; everything was for the public image in the Ryu household. After a few more minutes of listening to her mother's blunder - she wished Molan good luck, and she hung up the phone following a simple ‘mhm’. As more evaluations unfold, and insiders crawl about with misinformation, Molan can tell her parents have regressed to the role of overzealous managers for their daughters protection, let them tell it. While she wasn’t nervous about her craft, the dynamic of Molan’s parents' involvement caused anxiety.

Shuffling back to the masses of the party, she spotted her father gabbing with the CEO. Molan’s palms began to perspire knowing her father would soon call her over. Molan’s attitude and demeanor had gone into auto-pilot/numb in a sense; growing up under a perfectionist type of mother - where she more times than often, had a heightened sense that the world was watching and judging them. Combined with an interactive and brash dad - whose relentless encouragement for Molan to be involved in decisions such as choice of extracurricular activities, which outfits better represents the standard of style her father made for the family, and what to eat to maintain her fit body. Molan’s frame of mind slipped back to the prodigal daughter under scrutiny. Molan shifted towards the two men, greeting attendees - her bow was fluid, facial features soft and warm, invoked confidence pacifying her self-doubt - yet causing a hum in the air. She was taught to work best under pressure, and treated the party for what it was; practice.

“My darling daughter. Come over for a second,” Molan’s father calls out to her.

'Here we go,' Molan mumbled to herself, fueling her psyche. Whenever booze and media politics came into play, her father was front and center, jabbering with his age group, consuming the finest liquor must be his shoe in for closing deals. A fable Molan told herself on plenty occasions. Her dad’s arms slung over the C.E.O. 's shoulders, the both of them sharing a juiced laugh. A certain familiarity between the two old industry colleagues had Molan curious, could this work to her benefit?

Molan’s old man’s hand extended out to grab her hand, guiding her closer to the two. “This is my daughter, Molan.” Her father nodded and mentioned it to the CEO. “Good evening sir,” - Molan bowed slightly in both men's direction. “It’s a pleasure to be here, you’ve hosted such a marvelous event.” Enduring interviews, or speaking to men in power in the shadow of her parents made Molan susceptible to describe her life as rich and fulfilling as she assumed everyone wanted to hear - yet humble and endearing enough to act relatable. Normally feeling confident speaking, she spoke slowly yet eloquently. She knew she could maneuver through the conversation better in English, speaking formally inKkorean still felt a bit intimidating - especially when speaking to a native. ‘You gotta’ sound like you’re a woman of sure words, you understand?’ Her father once scolded her, giving her a nod and dart eyes in a way that read ‘I’ll only tell you this once’.

CEO - while he had been clinking glasses with Molan’s father, he showed zero signs of inebriation while the two spoke. “Ah Molan, our qualified trainee. You’re doing a fine job,” the CEO mentioned, raising his glass as if to toast. Molan’s father, in ear shot, showed respect with an immediate drink of his whiskey. “Yes sir, I have the top scores in my evaluation class.” Molan added with a smirk, then shortly after wondering if the CEO received it as sass.

“You’ve got showmanship like your dad Andrew here kid, I can respect that. However, curious minds would like to know, what do you see in your future with Hydra. if you see a future with us that is...” the CEO’s words burned towards the end, Molans’ test to answer to uncertainty.

“Oh yes, without a question. I’m a commodity, and I believe my talents will contribute to my group and the company's success. I’m already a fan favorite, outside, and my fans go hard for me. Hydra is my home sir, and I’m lucky to be apart of this.” Molan rested her hands together in front of her and nodded as she uttered her last sentence to the CEO, feeling confident in her rebuttal. The CEO stared at a confident Molan for a few seconds before revealing a sneer - followed by a sip of his drink. “That’s my girl!” Andrew exclaimed followed by a contagious laugh and a firm grip on the CEO’s shoulder. “Hey, you have other guests to chat with, don’t let us hold you up,” Andrew explained to the CEO. he agreed and as he walked away he muttered “Molan, great chat. We’ll talk some more - enjoy yourself tonight,” and then he disappeared into the crowded event.

Molan’s stomach fell into knots as she followed her father to the bar. As he pulled her quickly towards the end of the bar, she noticed her father seemed agitated. Trying to keep his composure, Molan chuckled to release the noticeable tension. “C’mon dad, what’s up?”

“You didn’t mention you received good scores,” Andrew asked with an abashed grin tracing his lips. Molan looked over at her father, tensely downing a shot of whiskey, contemplating on being proud of his daughter or suspicious as to why Molan hadn’t told him.

Trained fondly by vetted, world renowned musicians and artists, if she wasn’t being coached or training, she’d be eating or sleeping. Luckily, Molan never developed resentment towards Andrew. The two may have built walls around one another, but she has pride in their foundation, how well they fared in past troubles. Familial bonds or lack thereof, Molan holds an utterly high respect for her family.

“Well dad, I wanted to surprise you.” She said with a slight chuckle. Molan was given everything a child of wealth receives post adolescence. She chose this world of performing arts, but practicing and honing her skills turned into her childhood’s obsession to later, a career. “I'm still shocked myself." She figured a straight answer that sounded of ‘idol-like mentality’ was enough, but embellishing the answer wasn’t off bounds. She fixed a look of melancholy, and slight pensiveness to add allure. “That being said; I’ve got plenty more up my sleeve.”

[hdmolan]

* / ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴏʀ 

●︎ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ — january 21, 2023 ●︎ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ — day of trainee evaluation ●︎ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 703 words 4,029 characters

 The morning that caused so much anxiety leading up to, had finally come. Trying to gain some composure over her wrecking nerves is saying the least. Molan sprang out of her plush bed, singing to herself in exuberance while heading to perform her daily powder room duties. Body damp from the shower, towel wrapped around her, hair in a bun — Molan sang out loud, the song she's been training for weeks now, in the mirror. Focusing on hitting each note at the right key, followed by the perfect head snap - all while attempting to brush her teeth. She was meticulous, and thought the song selection was the best demonstration of her sass and full energy - but also wanted to shock the judges and give them a taste to expect should they select her for a project. Molan typically prefers to start her day peacefully and full of positive energy, but today, she called for a different approach. 

 Molan stood in front of her mirror holding up studio outfits to determine the best for today's big event. In true Libra fashion, she was obsessed with making a statement. It not only boosted her confidence, but in her mind — it made a lasting impression. Deciding on a black, edgy flock monogram Off-White crop top with matching leggings. She planned to absolutely serve, and also look flexible and not constricted. “Okay girl, this how we feeling today? I’m here for it,” she told herself in the mirror before completing the look with her Prada wheel nylon high-top sneakers, and a subtle black cap with white lettering that read: Meow. 

   Arriving to begin the evaluation, seeing the rest of her teammates with ranging of feelings flooding their faces - gave Molan a jolt of confidence. Oddly enough, she fed off the adrenaline of her teammates as battery packs, giving her the ammunition to conquer. She stood against the wall, internally jumping out of her skin from excitement, or was it the fact that she barely slept last night going over her routine, over and over. As the staff starts filling the room, setting up their blunt critiques to come, Molan readies her position.

 She stepped forward from the lineup of girls, “Hello, it’s a pleasure to present to you our fullest today. I’m Ryu Molan, under Starlight Music, and was tasked with the leader position. We are ready to show your our passion, dreams, and vigor through our performance. Thank you.” She prepared a simple introduction to show the company her role as a leader was more of a representation of the company than the group. A leader through and through. 

 Molan bowed, then turned around to give the girls a slight ‘nod’ to get in position, to anticipate the music starting. The passion and conviction with which she just made her opening remarks, had excitement was tangible. The music begins to play [Feel Good] and Molan transcends into character. Every drop of the beat was elegant, sharp, and not sloppy or bouncy, each spin and hair flip was executed with precision and on cue. She was the main dancer, but still, she carried out her notes beautifully and smooth. Molan doesn’t brag about being a great singer, she carried a tune like a canary. Her outfit allowed her to move fluidly across the floor, incorporating intricate choreo combos to highlight her sense of style. Her biceps begin to burn from the floor routines and it was weirdly comforting to Molan, ensuring she never missed a note or breathed to heavily. Unveiling multiple eight counts, she made up, adding sass and edginess to the melodic tune - transforming this to the Molan experience. 

 The music rounded off and Molan greeted the staff with fiery eyes. Seconds later, flashing a wide smile and bow - completing all her hard work. She held the position for a few seconds before walking off the main floor with the rest of the girls, finally getting a chance to catch her breath. She knew she just left her soul on that floor. Her chest heaving from what she just displayed, she exhaled in relief. Fingers crossed that the company will recognize her star potential beyond her family’s name.  

[hdmolan]

* ╱ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴍɪʟᴀɴ 💎 ~ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ɢɪʀʟ, ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴘᴛ 2 * ╱ ♥︎ 𝟑𝟕𝟔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝟐,𝟑𝟐𝟏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 ⤿ 𝑫𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬

Milan had dedicated several weeks to honing her driving skills, with the ultimate goal of successfully passing her driving test! As the exam day approached, she felt an increasing sense of confidence and self-assurance. Finally, the long-awaited day arrived, and Milan took a deep breath before settling into the driver's seat, fully prepared to demonstrate her driving prowess. Milan focused on the road ahead as she drove, remembering her father's advice to remain calm and collected.

When the driving instructor asked her to parallel park, Milan maintained a composed demeanor and performed the maneuver with utmost finesse, displaying exceptional precision and accuracy. Seeing her instructor's approving nod was enough to elicit a burst of euphoria, causing her to exuberantly flail her hands and let out a thrilled scream upon learning of her successful test completion.

Eager to share her accomplishment with her social media followers, Milan went live again with the instructor still in the car! She announced the news to her fans in glee. Her supporters congratulated her on her success, and Milan expressed her gratitude for their unwavering support and encouragement — making sure she showed her fans the instructor and giving him a shoutout. She giggled as she noticed the instructor's face through her phone's screen, visibly confused. She marveled at how much her fans were dedicated to her life.

As Milan drove back home, ♫ Zero ♫ blaring in the car stereo, she relished the newfound sense of freedom and independence that came with having a driver's license. She knew she could now go wherever she pleased with confidence and ease. Milan, feeling a sense of accomplishment, decided to reward herself by planning a road trip with her close friends.

The thought of exploring new territories and experiencing the thrill of the unknown was enough to fill her with excitement. As she reached for her phone from the passenger seat, a sudden realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She had forgotten to finish her driving test at the Department of Motor Vehicles. The instructor looked at her with a confused expression, his hand resting on his chin. Milan, feeling embarrassed, flashed a sheepish grin while tapping her nails impatiently on the steering wheel. She couldn't help but ask, "Does this mean I didn't pass?"

[hdmolan]

* ╱ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴍɪʟᴀɴ 💎 ~ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ɢɪʀʟ, ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ. * ╱ ♥︎ 𝟓𝟒𝟕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝟑,𝟏𝟗𝟒 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 ⤿ 𝑫𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬

Milan woke up to the sun peeking through her curtains, illuminating her cozy bedroom. She took a deep breath and stretched her arms, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on her skin. As she rubbed her eyes and checked her phone, she couldn't help but smile at the flood of notifications from her social media. Being someone who values their online presence, Milan knew how important it was to keep her accounts up-to-date. With her long pink nails, she scrolled through the comments on her post from last week, taking the time to respond to each one.

Her long black tresses were still tangled from sleep, but that didn't stop her from following her strict algorithm of posting one weekly update on her thread. She loved sharing her life on her story, too and spent some time selecting the perfect photo to capture her current mood. The positive feedback she received always made her feel amazing, and she couldn't help but smile before getting ready for her day, feeling energized and excited for the day she had ahead.

Without a doubt, Milan was one lucky high school student. Her father, in a moment of generosity, handed over his coveted master suite and allowed her to design her very own bathroom oasis. Inside, Milan could enjoy the luxurious comfort of heated marble flooring while staring at her reflection in a backlit mirror. The spacious shower and freestanding bathtub were perfect for relaxing after a long day of practicing with her girl group. Speaking of which, Milan was highly dedicated to their studies, never neglecting her education for the sake of her passion. But Milan, especially, was a star performer, but her priorities were always in check.

Today, she had a special plan with her father - they were going so Milan could finally get her driver's license. She promised her father that she would maintain her grades and continue her involvement in cheerleading. In return, he promised to buy her a custom G-Wagon.

Milan started her day by completing her morning routine, which included some light stretches and a quick meditation session. She walked over to her wardrobe to select the perfect outfit for the day. After careful consideration, she chose a stunning Prada ensemble, which comprised a black pleated mini-skirt, a stylish white poplin shirt, and her favorite black monolith knit boots. As she was getting ready, she heard her dad calling her name from downstairs. In haste, Milan grabbed her earrings and leather mini, checked herself in the mirror, and quickly headed out.

She descended the stairs, taking them two at a time, and greeted her dad with a warm hug. He smiled at her approvingly, clearly impressed with her outfit choice. Milan couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at how well put-together she looked. She took out her phone and opened her social media app to go live. "Good morning my loves, I hope you're all doing well," Milan spoke softly as her viewer count steadily increased. With excitement, she showed off her outfit in front of the mirror for her thousands of viewers. "Today, we're wearing Prada!" She exclaimed. After receiving an outpouring of love from her fans, Milan signed off, gave a wink, and rushed out the door to start her day...

💎 ~ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ɢɪʀʟ ᴘᴛ 2 ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ…

[hdmolan]

* ╱ ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥︎ 𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆? 𝑷𝒕. 𝑰𝑰 * ╱ ♥︎ 𝟔𝟎𝟖 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝟑,𝟑𝟖𝟏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔         𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. : 𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒂, 𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒉𝒓𝒊, 𝑨𝒉𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏, 𝑮𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌

 Her makeup was nearly finished when her artist had to step away for a call. She took a break from admiring herself in the mirror to scan the room and somewhat pulse check — Sumin sat directly behind Molan but in the opposite direction, so she couldn’t see Molan's attempts to get her attention. She chuckled at Gabrielle, seeming annoyed, as she was scrolling on her phone while her makeup artist moved exceptionally slowly. Sienna and Ahri sat at her immediate right and left. Waving and blowing kisses to them both as they’re getting worked on, admiring their makeup. 

 Molan noticed the photographers taking test shots and directors checking the lighting; she knew it was almost time. The labels high-tech robo-hounds came in to bring the girls dressing racks. “Oh yes, honey,” Molan whispered as she opened her rack chest to find designer garments. All appeared to be off the runway, and this excited her even more. Each outfit had a paper tab displaying which look it was meant to be worn for. As Esteban returned to her, the two of them swooned over the selections chosen for Molan to wear. It just so happened that Molan was the first up for the beginning shoot. Her first outfit was a gorgeous Roberto Cavalli heart-shaped pleated bell gown that she felt regal in. Getting her bob freshly bumped before stepping in front of the lens - Molan softly swiped her hair behind her left ear and fell into a soft yet commanding pose. The photographer screamed from behind the camera, “YES, that’s it!” It was all she needed to power through this day. Subtly striking new post after pose, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful and blessed to be living her dream. 

 All the girls were not in the scenes the label had put together. After Molan finished her first shoot, it was a little ways before the next up, and she had a moment to ‘relax’ on the side. That stopped when one of the cameramen approached Molan for the B-role. He instructed her to be herself but show off the dress — Molan took no time to provide just that. Sharing soft, pointed looks with the camera, she wished she could do this every day. 

 The next shoot and sequence were swiftly coming up, and Molan had to change clothes. She cutely squealed and jumped in excitement when she saw she was wearing the new Chanel three-piece fit and matching mules - and was expected to walk the runway. Moments such as these she dreamed of as a child. She went a step further in her excitement by adding a diamond Chanel knuckle ring and some Chanel double c broaches to her blazer - she felt they complemented the Chanel glasses that some of the girls were all wearing. The girls changed looks a few other times as well; one of the looks was added to Molans’ favorites - a fitted black mini skirt paired with a custom ‘boyfriend-sized’ white collar shirt, all Chanel. Molan strutted down the runway, as the day almost wrapped up, once more in this outfit - this time wearing a white and black Chanel hobo bag with french baguettes in them. It must be the director's humor? 

 The day had ended, and the girls were worn out from being pinned, pulled, and photographed all day. Molan had zipped her cropped hoodie and stuffed a muffin in her mouth as she grabbed her tote and headed toward the exit. She kissed Esteban on the cheek on her way out, “Same time tomorrow, babes?” the laughter of the two fades down the hallway. 

[hdmolan]

* ╱ ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥ 𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆? 𝑷𝒕. 𝑰 * ╱ ♥︎ 𝟒𝟒𝟏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝟐,𝟓𝟎𝟖 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

The first day of filming for the girl's concept trailer had come, and Molans stomach was in knots all morning. There was essentially nothing to worry or stress about, but for some reason, she wasn’t ‘up for it’ today. On the way to the studio, Molan rode silently with her Ferragamo shades covering most of her face and expressions. On any ordinary day, she would jump up in excitement at the chance to wear designer clothes and have her photo taken - however, the cramping abdominal pain that radiated from her torso held her immediate attention. Headphones in, head resting on the headrest, Molan kept her sanity under control by speaking to herself internally, ‘c’mon girl... get it together. Today is not the day for this; we must push through this - do you know what you have here? Don’t fuck it up.’

Upon entry, Molan knew she needed to flash her charming smile, and cheek kiss a few stylists and make-up artists, as they’ve grown to expect this from her. She figured it’d be more accessible than explaining the truth later. Her current focus was masking her discomfort with a cheerful disposition to get the first day of filming done. After working the room with her greetings and pleasantries, she made her way to the first ‘stop’ - getting her polaroids shot. The label must have a strategic ploy to have the girls take raw, unedited polaroids to make them beautiful and flaunt them all on the same day. Molan knew she had not much to worry about, considering she wears her Lancome sheet masks religiously and swears by her 24karrot eye masks - her only worry was if her pain registered on her face... The polaroid doesn’t lie. Anything to avoid cringy personal questions.

 After her quick shot, Molan caught up with the other girls near the vanities and studio chairs with their names on them. She made her way to the chair labeled 𝚁𝚈𝚄 𝙼𝙾𝙻𝙰𝙽, placed her Chanel mini tote on the vanity, and relaxed briefly until her stylists came over. Immediately she perked up when she saw Esteban, her favorite make-up artist - she had secretly hoped he’d be the one to do her makeup; he always has juicy gossip and tends to make her laugh, not to mention he has blessed Molans makeup looks the best so far. ‘Ki-ing’ and chatting with him made Molan’s uncomfortableness fade into the background. As she watched him transform her face, it grew her confidence simultaneously - Molan liked entertaining Esteban by posing and making faces in the mirror with puckered lips, as she appreciated her admiration for his art.

[hdmolan]

* ╱ ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ★ 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠® * ╱ ★ 𝟔𝟑𝟕 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝟑,𝟒𝟔𝟔 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

 Molan decided to enjoy some free time for herself after her morning session of training. By this time, her body warmed up and gotten used to the advanced regime. She quickly showered and dressed in her comfy pink True Religion sweatsuit before heading to grab a warm drink. 

 “Hi - may I have a medium green tea latte, extra hot please?” Molan ordered the same thing every morning, and afternoon when she gets some downtime. Her family enjoyed matcha tea together, and it made her feel closer to home. However, at this moment, she craved something warm with a twinge of caffeine. Grabbing her drink, she made her way back into the lounge area of the dorm - sitting at her favorite booth by the window, the lighting was perfect. Snapping a perfectly lit selfie to make her smile, Molan wished she could upload to her thousands of followers like she was so accustomed to doing.  

 Enjoying her latte while scrolling through her feed, she suddenly received a text from an unknown number. Before opening the message, she viewed the first line which made her shoot her eyes up, surveying her surroundings. “What is this?” she laughed before opening the text message. 

“Hello, Ryu Molan! If you wish, now is your time for confessional. Please join us upstairs for a closed-off session... Shared with the world later on of course.”  

“Um okay,” Molan made a puzzled face as she stood up from the booth. Finishing off the rest of her latte, she made her way up the stairs as the text message said. There was a room with a neon sign above the door - this is where she knew to go. She entered the room to find a rather large ring light, which blocked her view of seeing a person's eyes. There was also a chair that was perfectly positioned in front of the camera and light, she sat in and made herself comfortable. Slowly sipping her matcha latte, a woman's voice began speaking from behind the light. 

 “Hi there, so how this will work is - we’ll ask you questions and then you answer them, but only your responses will be filmed and/or replayed on television. Feel free to add context as well.” The woman's voice was very pleasant, but also very specific. Molan smirked as she knew exactly how to navigate situations as such. 

ʜʏᴅʀᴀ ꜱᴛᴀꜰꜰ: ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪɢ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ɪꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ? ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ: ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ? ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ? ɴᴏ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴋɪᴅᴅɪɴɢ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴋʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴀᴛ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʟᴏɴɢ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ɪ'ᴍ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ, ɪꜱ ᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ꜱᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇ - ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ.

ʜʏᴅʀᴀ ꜱᴛᴀꜰꜰ: ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟꜱ? ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ: ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏꜱʜ, ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ. ᴀʜʀɪ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɪᴇɴɴᴀ ᴀʀᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ᴍʏ ʙᴀʙᴇꜱ. ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ "ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ", ꜱᴏ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴏ ꜰᴀʀ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ. ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴍᴇ...

ʜʏᴅʀᴀ ꜱᴛᴀꜰꜰ: ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ? ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ: *ᴠɪꜱɪʙʟʏ ʜᴇꜱɪᴛᴀɴᴛ* ᴜᴍ...ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ꜰᴀɪʟɪɴɢ. ꜰᴀɪʟɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ. ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ, ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ - ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ ɪ'ᴍ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴜᴘ ʏᴇᴛ. 

ʜʏᴅʀᴀ ꜱᴛᴀꜰꜰ: ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɴᴇ. ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇʙᴜᴛ? ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ: ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪ'ᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇ. ɪ'ᴠᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡɴ ᴅᴇᴅɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ʀɪᴅᴇ. ᴀʟʟ ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱᴀʏ ɪꜱ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ...

 Molan got up from the chair, flashing a smile and a peace sign with her fingers. She was hoping they’d ask if she was ready to ‘share her life with the world’ - that would have prompted a different response.  

[hdmolan]

* / ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥ 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕥

●︎ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ — january 4, 2023 ●︎ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ — trainee evaluation ●︎ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 491 words - 2,739 characters

 Molan arrived to the first day of evaluation with a cheesy look on her face. Hair pulled into a tight bun; her Nike & Off-White activewear peaked through under her black Moncler down jacket. Molan was laced up and yet still polished, eager to take on the evaluation. She gravitates towards the rest of the girls, who’re ready to show what they can do. After disrobing her jacket, Molan stood there for a brief second practically jumping out of her skin from excitement, or was it the fact that she barely slept last night coming up with her idea.

 Dramatically grunting as she stretched out on the studio floor, Molan reached for her phone that was lying close to her and went through her music list. She tapped on a song, and it started to play. She turned around to see the girls already up from the floor, looking at her. Molan smiled, and stuck her tongue out as she knew they would like the song she picked.  As the music played, Molan started to dance. The song was an older song, but was in the girls’ generation group - a song and the matching choreo they’d all know. Molan began the sequence, trusting that the girls would know their queue when to join in. Though she picked one of her favorite songs, she felt confident that the girls would feel it was up to the level of greatness to show off their talents. 

 After the quick and fun routine, Molan cheered in excitement to see the girls ‘seemingly’ enjoying themselves. Never rude, always gracious, she melodically sings “goood morning” to her peers. The ‘warm up’ definitely sparked some nostalgia and caused the girls to bond a bit more. After a successful quick catch up, she perked up to announce, “Sooo, I’m really excited we were all put together, even if we haven’t met, I like to think there’s a reason for everything. Which must mean our strengths are something to be reckoned with, right?” When she spoke up, her entire disposition oozed confidence. The type that would fire up any team before a big challenge. “In saying this, the pressure is ON and I would love to take on the task of leading the group.” 

 Molan anticipated a debate, and she’d be prepared to argue should one of the girls speak up for the position. In fact, the fierce, competitive voice in her head almost expected it - wanting to clash for the sake of proving her worth. "No, I’m not the oldest in the group - my leadership capability would come from my skills alone.” Molan saying very matter-of-factly.

 “I’d also like to put my name in the hat for main dancer.” Molan felt the utmost confidence towards her technique and ability to pick up choreography rather quickly. She’d hope that her camaraderie and attention to detail would sway the girls to agree. That they would see the immense potential.