#ryan.shared

[idaein-blog1]

ignite

a foreign location, a familiar face with @ryanid

it’s daein’s first time with chile. not that he really feels like a vacationer. he’d just been ushered to a hotel from a plan, a venue, and then back to the hotel. he’d seen glimpses. like slots through the blinds of the city around him. he’d snapped a few pictures. streaks of lights and blurry buildings. a picture of himself, the back-dropped silhouette of the city glow on his ride back, after the showcase had wrapped. maybe later he’ll caption it, throw it on his instagram for his fans. but not right now. instead, he finds a slightly crowded room of idols looking to unwind after the event. or perhaps that’s true to some, others look like they might be chasing after something more exciting. a dose of adrenaline dialed up by rebull and shots. 

but daein has his own addictions he’s reaching for. something that makes his heart stutter in his chest, a pull of something dark and greedy that crashing into something similar and just as alarming in her own presence. “found you,” he ducks his head down to whisper this into ryan’s ear when he finds her. he hadn’t been stuck in the same hotel as the midas acts, but all the companies looked to book in clusters around the venue, and it hadn’t been hard to message around and figure it out. his fame tinged face was his ticket into getting in, knew enough of the subdued party goers to waltz his way inside. 

maybe it’s still odd. but it’s an oddity that ryan usually seems to appreciate. they meet halfway, in their own skewed interpretation of how desire, want works. it suits him, or them. at least for now. but it’s an unpredictable thing, this sort of love. and an easily misconstrued thing.

“were you hiding before?” more a joke than anything else, but daein hadn’t managed to run into ryan into his cursory lap around the small stadium that the showcase was held in. but they’d all been herded into waiting rooms, and there were too many groups and members and back dancers all scurrying around like rats lost to a maze and daein had given up on that prize. at least momentarily. daein folds himself closer, head tipping to he can catch ryan’s eyes. she still has her performance makeup on, and he catches flecks of glitter glowing into the dimmed lighting. “find anyone fun?” before i came is implied.

[idaein-blog1]

specter

not so home alone - @ryanid

there’s a wet blanket of tired thrown over xiang. it can feel like dead weight compressing down against skin, against bone, against his sooul shifting around uncomfortable in his body. that’s how you get used to feeling when there’s a comeback right around the bend. heavy tired, with the chorus of whatever song is about to be released on loop in his tired brain. 개굴개굴 is busy hopping around his skull. it’s a small miracle he’s able to will himself to sleep. that or all the tiredness just slammed into it. made a massacre of the frog.

usually, xiang sleeps like the dead. sometimes he stirs, rouses into odd instances of sleepwalking and picking up conversations half in one language, half in another. often devoid of logic. but usually it’s imitation death. that’s where he’s at right not.a  rock underneath the blankets. would probably remain that way until morning if not for the uninvited guest currently slipping inside.

maybe he’d have even kept sleeping if they didn’t invite themselves right into his bedroom. it’s not until the mattress starts moving, the light from his cellphone glaring up at the ceiling that he’s finally pushed the the point of waking. he lets his eyes creak open slowly, delirious in nature still. he should probably scream. rattle himself awake. jump out of bed. run. it’s not like nitro doesn’t have their fair share of freaky fans. maybe not as many as the likes of olympus or atlas, but enough.

instead he keeps himself still as his mind works slowly through the situation. he immediately latches onto ghost as a logical and reasonable explanation. it looks like a girl, pale in the moonlight, spools of ink dark hair hanging down as she leans forward. xiang likes ghosts - or at least the concept of them. has sworn to have seen a couple, and maybe he could’ve added this to the list if not for the fact that as he wakes up piece by piece he recognizes their very corporeal form.

“oh, ryan...” it sounds almost put out. he is, a little bit. was riding the high of a ghost spotting for a good ten seconds there. “why are you here.” he stops to hide a yawn into the crook of his elbow. “with my phone?” he tacks on when he finally catches a glance at what’s keeping her busy.

[idaein-blog1]

envy

halloween party, dare: start a fight - @ryanid

xiang likes halloween. he likes the party. likes the environment, overflowing with something near-otherworldly. picking out a second self ( or a third, to some of the idols here ). slipping into it for just a night, succumbing underneath the sway of sugar-coated drinks and hyper-loud remixes resounding around them all. xiang doesn’t even mind the dare list that got forwarded around the party. it was sort of fun, and easy way to push past the boundaries of awkward small talk and jump straight into something unexpected with someone that you didn’t really know. but what he didn’t like was spotting ryu san doing a body shot off of ryan near the bar. now, xiang was many things, and delusional was sometimes among them. an unfortunate bend to the usual saying. 

he knew they were exes. knew that it was far in the past, back when they were both teenagers. knew even that those feelings didn’t stick around. was with ryan for long enough to know that her and san were friends. to know san, even. to know that he sometimes seemed like he had a tendency to throw himself into a crowd and see who he stuck to that he didn’t already hate. so, he knew. and he knew it was on the dare list. and he knew, logically, that it most likely meant absolutely nothing. a way to chase their conversation and farm easy points in the stupid game. 

but logic isn’t always the ruler when it comes to xiang. and, like aforementioned, sometimes delusion is given the opportunity to jump up and force itself into xiang’s head entirely uninvited. well. sometimes invited. it’s no secret that him and ryan never really shied away from a good fight when they decided they ought to have a right to feel slighted. so he saw them. he got angry. he contemplated interrupting the conversation. he didn’t, just ordered another drink for himself instead. drank it down too fast. contemplated leaving the area entirely in search of new company. 

he didn’t. 

just continued to stare across the bar until san finally got up and fucked off. and so he adopted a dare of his own. it had the hidden bonus of xiang being able to snidely point to the fact later if he so desired, like that might somehow absolve him of his sins. start a fight. and he read it off the screen of his phone three times before he finally pushed his way off the bar stool and made his way over. “i didn’t know we were doing body shots with our exes, maybe now that i’ve got that memo i’ll have a better fucking night.” something of a lie, and a familiarly dizzying circle he’s already used to running himself around in. 

but it still comes out. he’s still jealous. the corner of his lips quirked down in a tight lipped frown. “should i take the initiative and kiss a stranger first then?” he slides his thumb across the screen of his phone as he reads the dare off to her, quirks a brow and stares back up at her face. it’s like bait, one of those sharp toothed traps waiting somewhere nearby. maybe she’ll find it amusing. but then, at some point she won't. at some point they’ll both dissolve into something frantic before colliding together again. a rapid fire setting on an old, rattling washing machine. to an outsider, that must be what their relationship looks like.