#held it off bc i was so intimidated by the topic bc its a certain something that so much of the english fanbase rejects

[rassicas]

just so you guys know: -i am not dead -i am cooking -i am not even halfway done with this

[404fmdtaejin]

selfpara ; manager talks pt1

summary: taejin and his discussion with his manager. they’ve been through twelve years, and his manager knows him better than his own parents do. discussion revolves around current acting endeavors, future plans and what bc really expects out of him. small mention of collab with @fmdjiah warnings: allusions to death tw, except shitty writing bc idgaf right now wc: 1182

it’s a cafe nearby bc, the one cafe he’s been frequenting as a trainee. taejin recalls the moments, the sounds and the smells - senses pulling in back to a time fifteen years ago. there was the soft jingles of the pocket change, the feeling of the crinkled pieces of cash inside the force of his fist and the smell of the brewing coffee beans filling the air. it was his own escape, his own journey away from the jail-like dorms and the badgering eyes of the trainers. he was a young boy, barely tipping the age of adulthood with nothing but the hopes of his future to hoist his own perseverance up on the edges. success and independence - two things he was too innocent to see were antonyms - far too different to to mesh well within the walls of bc entertainment.

he’s sitting there, straw in mouth, sipping the bitter liquid which jerks him back to the ripe age of eighteen. he’s no longer a thirty year old, peaked off idol in the industry - he’s a new fresh face, a portion to the icon that decipher was in instigating the hallyu wave. a mocking smirk fills the void of his expression, how ignorant had he been to actually misconstrue that for a temporary taste of euphoria. it was far from that - built on schedules aligned like disposable soldiers ready to fight a ten year war. time had no tangibility, and each day would take a new toll on his body, dragging it further down into the ground where his grave was already dug out for him.

his temporary recollections of his youthful ignorance is brought down to the reality surrounding him - a familiar voice,  yeong jun hyung. there was a time, during his own teenage rebellion or as he’d title it, a terribly late form of 중2병 that often found a settling place in raging its sharpened claws against the hyung. however, with many things, time had a tendency to emit its therapeutic healing powers, melting the cold, shaky relations of the two into a brotherly concordance. taejin knows that beneath it all, he wouldn’t have a way out or a way into anything if it weren’t for his own manager hyung.

“congrats.” his manager speaks a soft song, a genuine smile curving against the tired sunken eyes on his face. “four episodes in, and it’s already reaching 9.4 percent. projections say that it might reach up to 20% with the buzz on the internet.”

“thanks, hyung.” taejin’s eyes widen, a burden fleeing off his own heavy chest that he’s contained within himself. the first acting venture outside of parasite, and the wave that struck all across the world, and it was received as a success. he remembers he had been hesitant, uncertain as to how to grasp the level of newfound triumph - there was a backhanded fear that expectations would only peak at the movie, and slowly make a dwindling downhill like a mere singer with a one hit wonder. “but is that really why you called to congratulate me and tell me the statistics?”

“no, i’m here to relay some information that our company has told me.” there’s a wavering gaze, eyes almost too burdened and confined to meet his own. the tone drops, and it’s now a low murmur. it translates to only one topic - bad news.

taejin nods his head along, mouth contained with the straw preventing any outbursts of radical anger to spew. he’s a ticking time bomb, confined to a chair tied together by the loose ends of his contract. anything that shatters and implodes will only fling back to his own semblance.

“the fans have caught on to the whole acting persona, and some are positive supporters - your personal fans. however, there’s a niche of decipher fans that are rampant, seeing you as a selfish leader only pursuing your own goals. they’re getting louder online, only tainting the clean image you have. so, BC wants to keep your image and reputation as clean as possible, so they’re making you do a song with Jiah.”

“why? why music, why Jiah and why can’t they just push me to act more? i’m making them money, aren’t I?” there’s almost a disgusted look, eyebrows knitted together as his own mouth gapes open. he sounds like a child, scolded by the stinging hands of his own teachers, but his own whiny sounds are pushed to the back, inaudible for anyone to hear. step one: denial. music in itself was a passion he lost long ago; decipher’s comebacks were already ragging on the trails of his coat, dragging him deeper and deeper into the depths of despair and hatred for the industry. yet, they wanted to push him further, testing how far the boundaries of his contract would permit.

“it’s not about money anymore. it’s about appeasing the fans that are vocal about certain perceptions. they want you to be korea’s picture perfect all arounder. Jiah’s drama is airing the same time as yours, and it’s not doing badly. so, they want to embark on this hoping the fame and popularity will continue with the song.” 

“i don’t even do OSTs to my own filmographies, what makes this any different? plus, isn’t there a decipher comeback soon?” the second step, a plead. 

“i told you, they want to market you as an all around person who appeals to all the markets. i’m not supposed to tell you this, but they said they wouldn’t allow any more acting until you do this for them. decipher’s comeback isn’t enough anymore, they want to have you step up.”

a threat, laced with any more intimidations than any monster he’s come across. it’s a strong statement that’s held in front of him like a treat. he knows there’s not bargaining, no hopes for a way out - the only answer was clear: subjugate yourself to the lap dog you are.

“what choice do i have then? if i say no, then i’m thrown into the dungeon. why have this meeting if you know i’ll already be expected to do it.”

a sigh leaves his hyung’s lips, a condolence of dejection. he’s only the messenger, stuck between a game of tug and rope between his loyalty to taejin and his own contract binding him to the industry. “i just wanted you to know, i know being forced to write lyrics for the new decipher album has already been taking a toll on you, but i didn’t want you to lash out when they sit you down officially and tell you.”

he leans back on the chair, hoping that the physicality of the sturdy would would provide the force lost in all the centimeters of his own spine. he wants to melt, leave and drop it all. but this too would only pass, and what was one more day added to the long string of torture he was conditioned to endure.

“all is done and good. i’ll brush up on vocal lessons this week. cheers to a happy spring, hyung.”