#id.zhang yixing

[idolizerp]

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON OLYMPUS’ LEAD RAP, SUB VOCAL JUNE…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 26 DEBUT AGE: 18 SKILL POINTS: 10 VOCAL | 07 DANCE | 10 RAP | 13 PERFORMANCE

INTERVIEW

Somewhere between scribbles of organic formulas and sloppy syllables of chemistry notes the words ‘’chain reaction’’ were written in midst of yellow highlighter. Had Junhai opened his notes, the road he’d gone through would have made much more sense. The simplicity of lacking in a skill crucial for his environment – the Korean language – had Midas media giving the boy on the edge of debut orders in the delicate form of advice. If you don’t know how to say it, don’t talk at all. Such simple words helped him make a conscious decision of sinking his teeth into his tongue, no matter how much it wanted to cut loose. It formed a whole delusion around the young man right from the start of his career. Unapologetically held eye-contact with ones hovering at the tip of his nose, foot gently swinging on top of the other, shoulders back and a tilted smile pulling up the corners of stained lips mixed well with overall soft features into a mirage of a foreign prince or at the very least – a well-mannered diplomat. Staying relatively quiet until pushed to talk did him justice, short and sweet answers to questions received the perfect amount of minimum to keep Olympians happy.

“You seem soft,” was an implication Junhai often received in fansigns in various shapes and forms. For a moment the answer was replaced with the idol leaning forward, nimble fingers catching the lukewarm digits of a fan and placing their palm right on top of his neatly styled hair. “Am I?” An unnecessary plead of confirmation and a simultaneous offer of freedom for the fan. Bait witch was always taken whether it was a loving pet or a slightly uncomfortable attempt to collect DNA samples for possible cloning in the future, a collection of similar occurrences easily found and compiled in fan videos along with titles of ‘ June poking fans’ cheeks’ and ‘ June making fans blush for five minutes straight’.

There was no spite for Junhai to act the way he had in front of the masses of fans of Olympus. No hidden agenda, other than compensation for a lack of words he desperately wanted to say but was forbidden to. That’s how idols act, right? Well, no, as interviewers questioned his intentions for the sake of variety, to which the young man could only respond that he loved Olympians very much – the only politically correct response in the idol chaos.

Lack of words spoken could have been his greatest strength, hadn’t it been his greatest weakness, leaving him defenseless. ‘If it’s not scripted, you don’t say it’ was an imposed motto, his overall considerate and diplomatic nature chained up and drowned for at least eight years in front of the masses. The inappropriate level of fanservice he caught up to too late to take back gathered loyal fans along with stable saesangs, because of whom June was swept into situations he later couldn’t explain himself for due to the image that had been created – the too accessible prince who can be shared by all. It’s not like he would ever refuse it, only we are in his heart, he loves us too much, they claimed who he was right to June’s face, the ten year contract a heavy weight, making him nod his head and taste blood in his mouth. The man became property in the socialist society of the ones that claimed to be their fans as he kept on smiling warmly at his friends behind closed doors “I’m fine, really. Let’s talk about you.“

BIOGRAPHY

i. Junhai’s father wholeheartedly believed that the reason his son was average is due to the blood that ran in their offspring’s veins. One couldn’t expect someone related to middle ground to become spectacular – June didn‘t have the genes for that, having born into a family of two middle children with boring lives they chose to carry in Guangzhou, China.

Whether it was a placebo effect or not, Junhai was simply average at everything he’d ever chosen to do. He tried soccer, but he only became a professional bench boy. Wood warmer, they called him, as he wasn’t fast enough or sharp enough to join other players on the field. Fencing was thrilling. At least for those who managed to skillfully hit targets and gather points. Not Junhai, unfortunately. He came across drawing, yet no matter how many pencils he used up, there was always someone around him who shaded better and drew better proportions by the rule of the thumb. He was never a top student either, ‘Li Junhai’ always resting somewhere in the middle of a long list after class evaluations. Popularity didn’t mold with him, too, eyes often shifting to his athletic friends or the publicly notorious outcasts he exchanged small talk with. Attention was never on him, it slipped past the boy and lurked around the manifestation of a bare minimum of a personality. It was was almost beyond belief how Junhai had passed the Midas Media audition with a score above average, believing that maybe he had finally found something he wasn’t just ’alright’ at.

ii. “At this point you’re either good, or they will make you good, kid,” was something he heard once he stepped onto the foreign land. Yet, the first year in Korea was a blur of syllables and noises the thirteen year old desperately tried to make sense of as his tongue twisted and turned in failed attempts to communicate with those around him. It was a proper inconvenience to his roommate, who ended up nursing a preteen with the intellectual capacity of a toddler. Or so it seemed, as any reminder of a practice or invitation to a meal was greeted with a pair of knitted eyebrows and Cantonese mutters, while hours dedicated to sleep were disturbed by the foreigner trying to read his Hangul schedule into a translator.

Time was powerful – lesson learned after a proper amount of time and double the amount of effort. Words directed at him didn’t sound like white noise. Hangul wasn’t just scribbles. Messages came through without any interruption. It evolved into Junhai repeating the sentences directed at him in an attempt to form variations in his head which were later verbalized as he tried to communicate like a functioning human should. It was hilarious, the way he spoke without knowing proper words or diction, the base of his sentences formed only by an overall structural understanding. Scissors became sharp cut sticks and toothpicks were sharp mini wood sticks. The sweet combination of mispronunciation along with a relatively limited vocabulary won over some snickers around the company. Had he known the good-nature of the laugh he drew, maybe his stomach would have stopped sinking whenever people expected words coming out of his mouth.

iii. Understanding the language unlocked a new level of comfort and security. The small room he lived in didn’t seem so alien, the streets weren’t that bewildering and the features his eyes stuck upon weren’t uninviting anymore. The mundane life of a trainee caught up to the teenager quicker than one would expect. Yet, no complains or hints of exhaustion were ever heard from the boy. On the contrary, Junhai reached out for ‘above average’ right when making sense of his own schedule and duties allowed him to put his all into training. But overtime could not save a boy of an unclear focus.

“What am I?”

No one ever told Junhai what they were planning for him, training hours marked no certain direction either. You hit that note? Good. You learned that choreography? Good. Your tongue didn’t twist while rapping? Good. Yet, in comparison to others around him, he lacked a spotlight skill and no one had any intention of giving him one. Therefore, his training felt loose and messy. While he did give his whole to train the modest amount of talent he had naturally, lack of a clear path distributed his energy in a way that didn’t allow Junhai to reach the level of skill he wanted. “You’re good. Not great, not special or spectacular. Just good.”

An alright vocalist, an alright rapper, a decent dancer. That was it, he was just.. Good. Not a step over, not a step below.

iv. For someone labeled as average, Junhai wasn’t sure why it was that he belonged in the lineup for Olympus. Charms that he might have had were useless due to how exchangeable he felt, many stronger contenders left lining up behind his back. It only came to him later, that he was just as much interchangeable and that’s why he was wanted. To be the middle ground that fills in the gaps - lines that were too unimportant to belong to main members of the group. A member can sing it better? June, do an ad-lib. Another member can rap better? June, take the background vocal. From multiple well-tailored lines in the subunit he debuted in his position switched to a few bars and maybe some lines if the producer felt generous. Never more, just enough to fill in spaces.

Junhai felt like he was a background member, not important enough to take much lead, not unimportant enough to be kept in the shadows. His members were talent and he was.. There. The feeling of low importance molded the barely existing relationship with the Olympus members. He never held it against them either. It’s my problem, he told himself, I can’t offer much. Therefore, decisions in which the members took part in slipped past his ears and if not the few fans he gathered offering himself to them due by stares and dimpled smiles, maybe no one would really notice if he had been dropped.

v. He really didn’t like being quiet, barely shutting up behind closed doors. His friends could only laugh about it, of course you have a lot to say after bottling your voice up. Yet, the ten year contract hung heavy on his neck like a chain. A bobble-head, well controlled by Midas media. One that got used to the slow attempted homicide of his own character. He wasn’t even that mad anymore, relying on charms and foreign mysteries to keep himself afloat in midst of the talented group. So much that people following Junhai start to seem mundane. There weren’t any ways to object the generous public figure he himself created. They followed him on stage, they followed him abroad, snuck into bathrooms and left presents at his doorstep. And when a number of Olympus fans kept themselves in tact, there was no getting away from the ones that didn’t. After all, he was public property even at the point when forceful pull of an open-hearted fan managed to dislocate his shoulder.

Olympus’ Junhai minor injury practicing; Olympus wrap up ‘Tell me’ promotions as five.

Minor. Did all minor injuries take more than a few months to heal? Midas knows best.

vi. Sometimes his modestly sized friend group worried about the lack of a fitting reaction for being mistreated. June never got mad, never cried or showed signs of distress about it. A dimple appeared on his cheek whenever questioned, as he beamed brightly at his company. “It’s my job, I’m used to it. No big deal.”

Junhai never lied to his friends. Unless the topic was his career.

vii. Guangzhou missed him, or so his mother told him whenever he Skype-called his family whom he hadn’t visited in years. How were his friends doing? That one’s married, that one became a surgeon, the other one has three children already. What he’d done in eight years? Really didn’t feel like much. He became an average member of a boy group in Korea with some lines and screen time. Somewhat liked, somewhat disliked. Needed, but not to the point of survival.

“I don’t think I will continue,” he admits time and time again into the glossy faces of his parents on the screen. “When the contract ends, I mean. We have over two years, the members will likely be planning their military service. And I’m not good enough to be a soloist.” It’s nice to talk in Cantonese again, he notes to himself. “I don’t think I belong here.”

As his mother kept howling into the microphone, he could hear his father murmur the same truth he’s been telling right from the start - mediocre people can’t escape their genetics.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON TITANIUM’S MAIN VOCAL ZHU GUANLIN ...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Gui CURRENT AGE: 27 DEBUT AGE: 23 TRAINEE SINCE: 18 COMPANY: Midas SECONDARY SKILL: n/a

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): n/a INSPIRATION: inspired to audition after watching videos of past kpop groups SPECIAL TALENTS:

plays guitar and piano

fluent in mandarin/cantonese and english

ridiculously good at the cham cham cham game

NOTABLE FACTS:

currently attending university majoring in photography

is an only child

has dyed his hair every color under the sun, even while a trainee

known for his love of reading, photos have circulated online about his book collection

is a known jinx fanboy

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

to be recognized as a successful singer.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

to be an all around successful performer/model in the korean industry.

IDOL IMAGE

in the early days of titanium’s career, gui both shy and struggling to speak efficiently in korean tended to hold himself back from participating in interviews and variety shows. he was content to stand in the back and to smile and laugh along rather than to jump into the fray. because of this gui struggled to build a presence for himself with both the fans and in the industry.

somewhere along the line, a fancam showed up online featuring gui breaking up his members fun antics with fans with a cold look on his face before ushering them off to the next schedule. this tiny moment caused a bit of an uproar with the titans. rumors started to spread about gui like wildfire, video and photographic “evidence” by fans soon surfaced online claiming that gui was “only in it for the money” and “secretly controlling and abusing” the other titanium members. while none of this was ever proven true, it has left a bad taste in the mouths of fans, leaving gui with the most antis in titanium. and gui has never fully been able to shake it. instead he continues to appear as unapproachable, leaving variety hosts to steer clear of him if they can, only acknowledging him as much as they need to when saving face with the few fans he does have.

being instructed to ignore the variety aspect of his career, gui was groomed to answer the more scripted and less candid questions posed to titanium. he’s often handed the mic to answer questions about their newest comeback or to shoot down anything scandalous posed by reporters or variety hosts. known for his looks, and in an effort to keep down the negative perception of him, gui was encouraged to take up modeling; putting his boy next door smile and chic expression to good use.

gui in private is much different than his stage persona.  instead he’s much more upbeat and laidback than most would realize. he tends to joke around, probably way too much making dad jokes and puns in both korean and mandarin, confusing most of the people around him. he’s known for breaking out into song and dance just to keep the mood lighthearted. gui also tends to look after the titanium members as more of an older brother figure, worrying about their happiness and health more than his own.

IDOL HISTORY

the harsh march rainstorms slowly fade away, revealing the brilliant fragility of april and her newest creation. he takes his first breath, quiet and blooming as a child much like the orchid bows its head under the might of the sun. he is delicate, far too fragile for the family he’s born into. the zhu, a family steeped in tradition, chasing after the pursuit of knowledge spanning back generations. and it is clear very early on that he doesn’t fit into that puzzle as effortlessly as his parents do.

and he struggles. he loses his footing under the crushing weight of the legacy he’s meant to uphold. he fails more than he succeeds to meet the goals and expectations set for him long before his birth. and so he becomes ridiculed by this cousins, the son with no backbone, the failing heir with a peony for a heart. he’s nothing if not resilient, all the more stubborn. it doesn’t make his youth easy by any means, if anything it makes it harder to navigate the muddy waters of the zhu household. it makes his family determined to break him, to tear him apart and rebuild him in their perfect image. and try as they might, as much as they expect him to bow, to break his back with the sharp edges of their words, he retreats but only to steel himself, to cover his soft peony heart and to soak up the sunlight through any crack he can find.

in the war torn household, his only solace is music; small moments stolen in the late night and early morning hours. and maybe it was always inevitable but he slowly and surely falls in love with it, finds himself singing along, humming words under his breath. and in a household that abhors the arts, bans everything but classical literature, he struggles to carry around his love like a secret as he falls deeper. intrigue turns to desperation, turns into late nights muffled beneath blankets, to skipping class to let his voice soar free unrestrained.

and in a flash desperation turns into opportunity. a tiny spot on a mainland variety show, a small segment featuring the hottest trends. he stands, frame alight with excitement and a little bit of anxiety next to this friends. showcasing the youth of today, the spotlight burns bright and hot as the audience cheers on their talents. he watches his best friend fumble his way through a popular dance song, the words and movements unfamiliar. and before he knows it the mic passes from hand to hand until he’s holding the weight in his unsure hands. he’s terrified but the atmosphere is welcoming, infectious and before he knows it, he lifts the mic to his mouth in a fit of bravery he didn’t know he had inside of him. he struggles with the words on the bottom of the screen, trips and stumbles over them but his voice soars loud and clear through the studio. and for a moment, he blooms brightly under the spotlight caught in the feeling of pure happiness and exhilaration. and as just as quickly it starts, it’s over. the staff are ushering them off of the set and out of the studio. but it doesn’t matter because he’s already ensnared.

the clip surfaces online not too long after that. and he probably watches it a hundred time, enraptured at himself and the audiences reaction. and for a moment that fragment in time is enough. it’s enough to get him through the war until he comes out on the other side, still whole and unbroken. an audition, that’s all it takes for him to put all of his hopes and dreams on the line. cold sweat, absolute terror, he again fumbles over the song he practiced until he could sing it in his sleep. but that one chance is all it takes to prove his talent, his worth. and before he knows it, he’s leaving behind all he’s ever known for the unknown.

seoul, it’s vastly different from the life he left behind. he gets caught up in the movement, in the fast paced life of a trainee. and while he’s never felt enough for his family, he learns that it’s nothing compared to one of few foreign trainees in midas. it’s frustrating, being unable to communicate properly. he struggles to listen, to learn, to do more than to just settle with pointing and hoping that his wants, his needs are understood. it’s a long process and it nearly defeats him, nearly sends him home with his tail between his legs. but as the days trickle by, slowly he starts to learn and to understand until he feels like he’s finally able to breathe.

but he should have known that his life would be one of struggles, has always been for as long as he can remember. the brilliance, the shine of debut is unlike anything he ever imagined. he’s a bundle of nerves and excitement to get out there, to share his talents with the world. but it’s all short lived. months of good luck seem to pale in comparison when he’s being pulled aside by staff. he learns that his shy nature, his hesitation before speaking have not done him any favors. he learns about the rumors and spends hours struggling to read through fan accounts, through comments painting him out ot be some sort of monster. he remembers crying himself to sleep that first night and learns to walk with caution when chasing after his future.