#id.msg

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN DANCE, LEAD VOCAL, RAP MOON JIHUN…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 26 DEBUT AGE: 21 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 18 COMPANY: MSG ETC: this member is known for their involvement in musicals

IDOL IMAGE

The steadfast, reliable one.

That’s what he is, that’s what he needs to be, or so he’s told.

Not the one who ever truly stands out, only ever when he’s given the time to take center stage as a dancer, but a jack of all trades who blends smoothly into anything that’s thrown at him. Dancing is what he does best, and he clears the stage every time he’s on there, so much so that there’s articles written about how he comes alive, and there’s comment chains about his so-called duality, on stage vs off stage, the artist vs the person, as if they truly knew either at all.

Where his bandmates are electric and mysterious, where they’re magnetic and bring people in, his job is to keep them there, to be the anchor. He’s approachable, perhaps a little too much, and the company pushes his open and earnest relationship to fans, because they need it. The company tells him to be the best friend, the big brother, never the favorite but good enough to make people feel comfortable. The meek shall inherit the earth, as they say.

It’s a polished and just-flawed-enough version of who he’s always wanted to become, once, before the mirror cracked and the smoke vanished. Smile for the camera, be that boy, strong, unwavering, always there for others, sometimes not quite there himself.

He pursues musicals, gets the OK from the company after much insistence, after convincing them that it’ll allow him to show versatility, that that’s the thing they want for the group right now. Selfishly, he wants it for himself first, to show that he can take on that challenge and see it through. The company agrees, if only because they need it, a way to show and confirm, after re:group, that their idols can truly adapt and thrive no matter what’s thrown at them. It’s publicity, at least, but then it’s up to him to make it good.

There’s a sort of vindication in it, although he’s always been told to avoid being too prideful, but sometimes he can’t help it. No hurt in telling yourself you’re doing well, after all, that your best is enough for once.

IDOL HISTORY

corner of the sky.

“Special”.

“Gifted”.

“Prodigal”.

Words that mean too much, until they dont mean anything at all.

-

When Moon Jihun is seven years old, his parents sign him up for the school talent show, at his express request. He had seen this performance on TV, of an artist whose name he can’t remember and that his seven-year-old grasp on language would probably jumble anyway, but it shakes something up in him like nothing has before. It plants a seed in his young mind that’s only begging to grow, so he bats his lashes as his mother, and she writes his name down because of course, anything for her little prince. Before he knows it he gets a taste of it, the costumes and the light and the dramatics, but most importantly he hears his own voice, feels his body moving, and he loves how it makes him feel.

Passion feels like all he needs and he cultivates it, for all the years afterward, and it’s only the beginning of the road. It’s also the foundation of a home, for Jihun, and back then it’s whole and beautiful and precious, not in ruins quite yet. He’s his parents’ and grandparents’ treasure, the pride of Seogwipo, center stage in flashing light. The family’s crown jewel who can do nothing wrong in their eyes.

Jihun, you’re so much more advanced than all the other kids!

You know, our Jihun practices a lot at home.

I think it shows, he’s so talented!

He works hard at performing because he loves it,  but he can’t deny that being told he’s good, being told he’s special, is more fuel to his fire. It must mean he’s doing something right, and it must be true, they have no reason to lie to him after all, they’re only here to encourage and lift him up. Honesty is the best policy, always, that’s what he believes and what he holds on to. So whenever his father grips him by the shoulders and tells him he’s special, he believes it. Whenever his grandmother hangs another picture on the wall, he feels his heart filling with pride. Every time he sees them sitting in a row, all eyes on him, it’s only more motivation to chase this dream.

He’s special, after all.

Fresh out of middle school, he moves to the big city, Seoul, center of the known universe. And, or so he thinks, fulfills his destiny.

The performing arts school building towers over him the first day, so many promises rising up to the sky, all the hope he’d shouldered from all his years practicing finally about to fully realize themselves into something concrete, something for the future.

The future, as it turns out, is a paper plane that burns at the slightest change of direction.

Outside of his bubble, away from his family, Jihun crashes in a way he’s never experienced before. Where’s that special kid, where’s the prodigal son, in the middle of all the other students who are stronger and better in every way? Where’s the gift gone, when he’s struggling to catch up, much less keep up, when he loses his breath and comes tumbling to the floor, lungs on fire, sweat trickling down his back, the unpleasant physical manifestation of failure.

That’s a new word, failure. It stains his tongue like the bitter taste of tobacco, the cigarettes he starts sneaking in between classes, hunched over, curled up on himself against the back wall of the building, shame and disgust and failure, failure, failure.

His parents’ praise echoes in his mind and he tries to crumple it up and throw it away, because it’s not enough. It was never enough and he can’t do anything with it now, not when he feels himself falling behind, slipping away, his dreams so far out of reach he should probably just let them go.

But letting go is not an option, of course. The only thing stronger than his shame is his stubbornness. If he’s just average, the only way is up. If he only has his determination to show for himself, then at least he’s got something. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?  

Know where you stand. Stand your ground. Throw yourself into practice.

He takes everything in stride. Classes, projects, late night training, throw five or six desperate kids in a room and call it a learning experience. Sneak into the school’s studio when no one is looking, stumble upon a classmate, keep each other’s secrets and keep each other afloat. There’s more vindication in knowing he’s trying than in being told he doesn’t have to. Maybe it’s too much sometimes, but there’s this growing, urgent need in Jihun’s gut to just prove that he can, so he keeps going, cultivates his work ethic far away from false promises and little white lies.

waving through a window.

He’s eighteen, waiting at the bus stop when it happens, a man in a cheap suit handing him a business card, the three letters MSG feeling like a punch in the throat. He knows them, of course, anyone with an interest in the industry does. The fine print in is the man’s words, though.

“You’ve got a face that’ll sell.”

It’s a start, maybe. It’s ok if he can capitalize off of that, show what he truly wants to. It’s a chance he can’t afford to pass up. Even if he doesn’t like to think of it that way, everything is a means to an end.

Trainee life is, for all he’s anticipated, just a leveled-up version of school. He gets the call back a week after his audition. The almost soulless voice on the other hand claims they saw something in him, and it’s been a while since he’s heard those words so Jihun takes them with caution, files them in a corner of his mind that’s still marked with a red flag.

He still shows up on the company’s doorstep with his suitcase and his aching heart.

The cycle starts again. Push yourself to the limit, say yes, thank you, I’ll do my best, I’ll work harder, and then do just that. It’s all you’ve got a claim to, after all. In that room he’s just like he was before, keeps himself afloat among the others, and eventually, he finds his footing. He can breathe a little easier, sleep a little sounder, even if he doesn’t get to do either of those things much. Little by little, finally, he makes himself known. Remarkable if only for how diligent he is, people also commend his hunger to prove himself. The downside, that he tries not to let become his downfall, is his tendency to bite off more than he can chew, leaving projects unfinished or unpolished just because he wants to move on to the next one, to do everything at once, to show his worth. Run through a dance cover, move on to some barely formed choreography, or two, sometimes both at the same time because he needs to keep his mind occupied and alert.

His body feels like it’s being taken apart every day, from the hazy dance practices that blend into each other, always longer and more grueling and the next, but he loves it, this feeling, when the world spins and he’s taken along in the movement. It’s all he ever wants to do. It’s all he feels that he knows.

“You just don’t stand out.”

It’s that sentence, that he seems to hear over and over, that makes his blood boil and sets his heart on fire. “If they’re not looking my way, I’ll make them.”

And he does.

If he’s always heard that debuting is the hardest part, he’d wager that following up is harder. It doesn’t feel difficult or painful when he stands on that stage for the first time, finally, a day that he’d begun to think would never come. It feels freeing. It feels like the sky has opened up and all the atmospheric pressure has been lifted, and rain is clearing yesterday’s pain to make way for tomorrow’s joy.

Tomorrow’s joy, he learns the hard way, only comes to the fortunate. They’re not among them. Months pass and comebacks happen and everything remains the same, leaving sweat stains and tear tracks everywhere they go, trying to make sense of a situation that never does. It’s not hard work that makes dreams come true, it’s luck, pure dumb luck, and theirs ran out so quickly that Jihun keeps wondering if there’s something they’re doing wrong.

Still they keep on going, stuck somewhere between determination and desperation, a single red thread that threatens to snap at any moment. It’s burned into Jihun’s skin, this lifeline, the promise of a better tomorrow that never seems to come; low sales, low views, low interest, low morale, but still this hunger, unsatisfied yet, and maybe it never will be.

soul of a man.

Re:group is grueling, worse than he’d imagined, worse than he’s been through.

Against the odds, he hears those words again. One by one as the guys walk in, this one is special, this one is gifted, this one is prodigal, and yet they’re all here, but to him they don’t seem to realize the reason why.

He gets the devil’s part, grits his teeth when he watches the episodes and sees what they’ve made of him, but he makes do with it. After all, this world will only ever let you be who they’ve already decided you are, and in a situation like this one, it’s pointless to fight against it. If you know who you are then it’s enough, and Jihun does, finally. So he works, and he works, because that’s all he knows, and he refuses to let anyone hold that against him at least. If the producers decide he’s the bad guy, too relentless and demanding and straightforward, then so be it. Through it all, he fights like a lion who refuses to die in the cage.

Too often his outspokenness is mistaken for humor, and the things he says that pertain to the hardships of the industry are brushed to the side or not taken seriously. The industry is cruel, this much he knows, but even in the role he’s been given, even as the MCs and the managers try to silence him, he knows he can hold on to what he believes. Sure he has to compromise, and it eats him alive on most days, how often he’s asked or downright forced to set his conscience aside. The fans notice, a little, but it’s only small things they can get attached to. For now it’s probably enough, not that he’d be allowed anything more.

At the conclusion of it all, under stage lights and scrutiny, as he’s been doing all his life, he waits for his name to be called. But the call never comes. It’s okay. It’s enough. he  did his best, and they’ll never take that away from him.

The gate opens to a brave new world instead.

one day more.

Fortune is a funny thing, really.

One day it seems like it’s all but abandoned them, thrown them to the side of the road to fend for themselves and eventually be picked on by vultures, a disgraceful end for a disgraceful life.

The next day, like some trickster god was in a benevolent mood and spun the wheel again, they wake up in a world where people have finally taken notice, where they’re not an afterthought anymore.

The first group schedule after the show, Jihun can barely see through the crowd and the flashing lights. It’s a new feeling and he thinks he could get used to it, even if the little voice in the back of his head warns him that this too shall pass if they’re not careful.

Take the second chance and run with it, because they don’t come easy, because it could be the last. Take the love, the admiration, the trophies, cherish them, because they could slip away at any moment.. Put in your demands now, because they can’t refuse you anything anymore. Now Jihun understands what it’s like to be the breadwinner, the move maker, the one that the light is finally shining on.

In the wake of their newfound success, Jihun gets cast in his first real musical, so far from the cardboard and the watercolor of the school talent show. It’s a never-ending thrill ride, a rush of adrenaline like he’s never known before, one that he hopes he never gets used to. He’s clawed his way up here and he’ll fight to stay, even when the industry is as unforgiving as its ever been.

When the cameras are off, as always, his strong moral compass is both his lifeline and his downfall. Even when it starts working in his favor, he still disapproves of many aspects of the idol industry, silently protests against the personal restrictions, refuses to settle for “this is how it’s always been done.” His intentions to voice that dislike are often shut down by his company to maintain the image they gave him, one that is a little too off to who he truly is for him to stay quiet for long. Maybe one day the industry will change enough that it will never have to be this way again, for him or anyone who shares his way of thinking. For now, if he can keep his balance despite all of it, if he can stay true no matter what, then he’ll have already won.

It takes a lot to break a man’s spirit. Even more when he’s already been patched up, and is held together with renewed hope; and the knowledge that if he holds on to his unwavering belief in what’s right, and keeps on his path as he has, then he’ll find a way out into the light in the end.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.indigo #id.kim taeho

[idolizenews]

HONEY’S LINA MAKES SOLO DEBUT WITH 'TROUBLE’

1. [+ 1,225 , - 267 ] Oh, this is better than I expected though??  2. [+ 1,006 , - 159 ] I’m in trouble, trouble, trouble ~~ Me too, I’m in trouble because I like Lina too much, ah... ㅠㅠㅠ  3. [+ 743 , - 102 ] This concept fits her so well, good luck Lina!! Your bumblebees will keep streaming ♡♡ 4. [+ 516 , - 77 ] ㅋㅋ What is this, why is she singing when she’s mainly a rapper... why didn’t they give this song to one of their vocals instead???     -- Does it matter? All of their vocals are on about the same level anyway ㅋ 5. [+ 310 , - 35 ] But seriously isn’t this a good song for summer? It’s so fun and the choreography is too, as expected from MSG!!

#id.lina kitsuwon #id.msg #id.debut #id.honey #id.solo

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN VOCAL NO SIWOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 24 DEBUT AGE: 19 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 16 COMPANY: MSG ETC: this member was known for the influx of attention they gained after REGroup.

IDOL IMAGE

siwoo originally debuted with a younger brother type image - goofy but sweet, wholesome but a charming nuisance to the older members of the group. he was comfortable with the role and played it well, but it was too conventional and he tended to be overlooked as a member. after his popularity grew from regroup, however, siwoo has shifted into an older brother type of concept - dependable, admirable, ruffling hair and teasing everyone. he was teased both by fellow contestants on the survival show and by his group members about his “angelic” image, developed after he garnered praise for his patience and willingness to help.

of course, he’s hardly angelic behind the scenes. siwoo is proud and refuses to acknowledge his own mistakes. he doesn’t always recognize limits like when a joke has come too far or when he’s pushing someone too hard, which not only creates tension but also damages his now-carefully-curated image. he’s easily affected by the trend - if things are going well, he rides that high, but he’s easily defeated once the tide turns. it’s true that he’s generous and helpful and a true team player - he believes that a group can only be successful if every member trusts and relies on one another. however, he’s very attached to the idea of indigo as a unit. this developed primarily during their slump, when siwoo began to fear disbandment, but his clinginess worsened once the group began rebuilding and reaching new heights. the boys, himself included, now take on more individual schedules, and he’s afraid of one of them achieving enough success in a field that they’ll leave the rest behind, dooming the others to flopping like before. part of him knows that teamwork also means supporting one another in all your endeavours, not just in those related to actual group work, and siwoo does support his members - he just doesn’t want them to succeed individual at the cost of indigo.

IDOL HISTORY

the no family filled their home with music.

the notes of chopin twinkled out of the radio while their father cooked, carly simon’s voice underscored family game night, uhm junghwa blasted out of the car as soon as the key turned in the ignition. every birthday dinner ended with a trip to the local noraebang. family gatherings were incomplete without someone sitting down at the piano while others shouted out requests and sang along at the top of their lungs. it was rare for there to be a quiet moment at home.

it shouldn’t have been surprising, then, when their middle son came home from school one day and declared that he was going to put his heart and soul into pursuing a career in music. you’d think that he was being set up for this future, that it was inevitable, all things considered, for him to want to make a life out of this.

the no family loved music. it was a hobby, an escape. it was also an unstable, dangerous, exploitative career path. the industry was corrupt, cruel, extremely difficult to break into, extremely difficult to stay in. it wasn’t the right place for someone soft, sweet, and warmhearted like their son. careers should be pursued in fields that will never be deemed luxurious or unnecessary - like the family plumbing business. the world will always need plumbers. will they need musicians?

siwoo thought they did. plumbing was a respectable profession - he was never ashamed of what his family did for a living - but fixing rusty pipes and renovating washrooms never seemed as exciting to him as the rush of standing onstage, delivering music that gave people strength and allowed him to express himself beyond what words alone could explain.

his older sister, who went the practical route by studying accounting in order to become the family business’s bookkeeper, had been giving him piano lessons since he was a kid. for siwoo it had always been his three hours a week of respite. he confided in her about his wish to pursue music, confessing that it was the only thing he could imagine himself doing, even if their family didn’t understand it. she told him that she understood, and that she had a friend who was a trainee at an entertainment group - maybe they could get together and he could find out more about what the industry is really like. they met at a coffee shop on the trainee’s day off, siwoo filling a three hour conversation with probing questions about trainee life. the industry was hard, the trainee acknowledged, and the vast majority of trainees never reached debut. but if you loved music that much, wouldn’t you regret not even trying?

siwoo signed up for auditions at every company he could find, scheduling them months in advance to give him time to prepare. he could play piano, and he had a naturally clear singing voice that earned him compliments from untrained listeners, but he worried about whether that would be enough for entertainment companies that looked for visuals, charisma, and charm on top of talent. he signed up for dance lessons at his local community centre, nothing fancy or impressive but enough to give him a sense of rhythm and make him more comfortable with moving his body. he spent time every night practicing his singing and his piano, his concerned parents listening as the music bled through the walls. finally he auditioned, and auditioned, and auditioned. he failed many, but passed a couple, and ultimately chose to begin training at msg entertainment.

training was, predictably, hard. he had to work hard into the night, keep a diet, and continue going to school. he was far from home, and his parents were still unhappy with his decision - they sent him a meager allowance, and he called them regularly, but their tone was always cold, always distant, and probably would be until he relented and came home. but siwoo, proud as ever, refused. as exhausting as it was, training was the first thing he’d ever really been good at. he thrived under pressure, loved proving others wrong, relished every opportunity he had to improve his singing. he worked best when he had a goal in his sights, and he had lots as a trainee: the biggest one being debuting, of course, but smaller ones to help him get there too, like getting the top score on the next trainee evaluation or successfully singing a piece in a higher key. he was motivated and he pushed himself until he was placed in the lineup to debut and finally, in spite of it all, proved himself.

or so he had thought. indigo hit the ground running, earning praise and attention from all sides with their debut release. it was too early for his parents to be fully convinced of their son’s success, but his sister told him that they had put up his posters in the office and had bought their debut ep and were trying to convince every customer, neighbour, family member, and friend to do the same. siwoo thought that if indigo had a few more successful releases, his parents would finally admit to him that he made a good decision in pursuing this path, and their relationship could finally mend. but their first comeback got significantly less hype, and the third even less. indigo was shaping up to be more or less a failure for msg, not quite becoming entirely irrelevant but certainly not living up to their initial burst of popularity. siwoo’s pride disintegrated. what his parents had feared had come true: their son couldn’t make it in music.

he was young at debut and didn’t have an image that stood out much - he was a younger brother character, cute and sweet, straddling the line between irritating and endearing. msg didn’t have much for him to do when indigo slumped, so he went on the few shows he was invited to and otherwise didn’t do much of anything. he struggled when there were no discernible goals ahead of him - they had missed the window to win rookie of the year awards, they were not nearly popular enough to hope to get their music show win on any of their few comebacks. siwoo isolated himself, spending as little time in the dorm or the company building as possible, doing little more than the bare minimum when indigo prepared for an event or a performance here and there. the motivation that made him such a great worker as a trainee evaporated in the face of indigo’s decline

regroup changed everything. the way the company told the members that they were going on a show for failed idols made it sound like a last resort, but siwoo saw it as a new chance. it was essentially like training again - competing with a large group for limited spots, undergoing evaluations and exhausting schedules, and, most importantly, meeting goals. he regained the motivation he had lost, and viewers took note of how hardworking he was. he got to sing ballads than indigo’s dance tracks let him and got some attention for the extent of his talent that had previously gone under the public’s radar. he had a positive, easygoing attitude, and made friends easily with the other contestants. his popularity skyrocketed after an episode where he was grouped with a team of dancers on a vocals challenge and stayed up late every night leading up to their performance to help each member with their singing, leading that team to winning the challenge. he became known for having a heart of gold, being sweet, outgoing, patient, and helpful. he climbed the ranks of the show from borderline irrelevant to twelfth place, missing the final lineup by fewer spots than anyone had originally anticipated.

indigo blew up afterwards, and siwoo blew up with it. msg decided to all but scrap the group’s original dance-heavy sound and focused instead on showing off the boys’ vocal talents, and as main vocal, siwoo had some of the most attention-grabbing adlibs and lines in their songs. but even more than for his voice, he had become popular for his personality, and msg capitalized on this by throwing him into variety. siwoo was friendly, bright, and not easily embarrassed - he dove right into whatever humiliating situation the show called for without hesitation. he got good press after an indigo appearance on i can see your voice and got invited back to be on the panel several times since, and he was praised for his charming anecdotes on his frequent appearances in happy together episodes. he’s succeeded, as both a musician and a public figure, and most importantly, he’s proved himself to his family. they still aren’t happy about what he’s doing, but they can hardly argue with him now. everything is going more or less perfectly, but siwoo is starting to worry: if indigo continues on this upward trend and achieves even more heights, siwoo is, frankly, going to run out of goals. he’s thrilled with their success, and there are still some milestones both the group and he himself have not yet reached, but he’s afraid of running dry and plummeting into a debilitating slump again.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.indigo #id.yoon jeonghan

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON 1NFERNO’S LEAD VOCAL, LEAD DANCE JANG WOOSUNG...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 21 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 14 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): Meongddaenam (멍때남) - short for 멍 때리는 남자 (zone out man), a slang coined by his fans to mean a guy who’s so good looking you zone out and stare at him; also used to tease Woosung for his habit of zoning out. Golden Boy - as he gets a lot of screentime, fans claim that he’s being favoured by the company. His fans call him it to mean that he’s skilled and talented at everything, while his antis use it to mock him, attributing his success to MSG giving him more screen time. INSPIRATION: Woosung has always loved dance. There is nothing he would rather do other than dance— it’s been his dream for as long as he could remember. Originally, Woosung wanted to be a contemporary dancer, the emotional and technical movements catching his interest. However, as a teenager, he decided to branch out and discovered a love for hip hop. He got scouted by chance, and decided to try branching out some more. When he discovered his love for singing, his goal switched from contemporary dance to being an idol, pouring all of his efforts into training until he was able to debut. SPECIAL TALENTS:

Speaks fluent English

Studied ballet, modern and contemporary dance until he became a trainee

Knows how to do makeup from his time as a competitive dancer

NOTABLE FACTS:

His mother was born and raised in the US and works as a Korean-English translator, so he speaks English fluently with her side of the family despite living in Korea his whole life

Has two younger half sisters from his dad

Studied at SOPA, but did not continue on to university

Joined a hip hop dance academy and was scouted out of pure luck only two months after joining

Has an interest in choreographing, but is only comfortable with contemporary routines at this point

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

Woosung really wants to improve his skills, focusing on honing and refining them. As the lead dancer in a performance heavy group, he feels a lot of pressure to look good onstage. While he is a skilled dancer, the majority of his training is in a completely different area, and he still feels that his movement quality doesn’t quite fit 1nferno’s concept, that he lacks the power and strength in his movements necessary for their choreography. He also wants to take his vocals to a higher level, as he feels like the difference between himself and their main vocal is a really significant one. He knows he has the charisma and presence to warrant a large amount of screen time, but he wants his skills to match.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

Woosung loves performing, but the reason why he’s in the idol industry is for the money. His mother did absolutely everything for him growing up, broke the bank trying to provide the best of the best for her son. He wants to be able to pay her back, buy her a nice house and let her live comfortably. Once he hits that point, he plans on stepping back from the idol industry quietly, simply by not renewing his contract at the next renewal opportunity. After that, he plans to devote himself to dance entirely, perhaps as a choreographer with MSG or a teacher at his own studio.

IDOL IMAGE

On stage, Woosung is a captivating performer. Explosive energy and charisma, a coordinated dancer and stable vocalist, with a cute yet handsome visual to boot. He’s magnet on stage, someone who fans’ eyes are drawn to despite not being the best dancer or vocal in the group. He can handle the experimental concepts that MSG throws at 1nferno and is able to take most of the intense concepts in stride, finding it not terribly difficult to get into a character and convey the appropriate image onstage.

Offstage, however, Woosung is incredibly different. Having a naturally meek, introverted, and insecure personality, he tends on the quieter side during interviews, lives, and other social situations, finding it hard to talk and share his opinions. MSG pushes him as a chic, artistic personality, capitalizing on his contemporary dance training as a testament to his artistry and emotionality. It’s an easy role for Woosung to play, as someone who is much more comfortable staying quiet regardless of his image. During public appearances, he tends to let the stronger personalities in the group take over, chiming in rarely and even then, it’s usually only when he’s directly referred to or asked a question. Some fans complain about this behaviour, calling him cold and distant from the other members of the group, but his dedicated fans claim it’s because of his emotive side, reasoning that he’s one to read the situation and observe in order to match the others involved, rather than take charge of things.

When Woosung does speak, he’s surprisingly insightful despite his shyness, a delight to both fans and the company. He’s the type to consider unusual perspectives, without being strange enough to be labelled as a 4D personality. He’s thoughtful and considerate, easily able to gauge the needs of others around him. He does have his spacey moments, though, tending to get lost in thought. Thankfully, it’s more endearing than frustrating, and is marketed as simply another aspect of his emotionally-tuned personality.

IDOL HISTORY

1998.

Jang Woosung has always been a boy caught between two worlds, even from birth. He is born on January 26, 1998 to a Korean father and a Korean-American mother, and given two names— Woosung, a Korean name given by his father, and William, an English name given by his mother. Neither quite fit, each one missing a component of the other, and as Woosung grows up, he comes to resent them both. His English name as a target of ridicule, the label of gyopo, his mother’s roots in America. His Korean name as a cover up, trying to conceal the other half of him; but also, as a constant reminder of a father who left him, who gives him that name before leaving when Woosung is less than six months old. His mother has already established herself in Korea, has already planned a life here for her son, so despite being alone, she stays, intent on raising her son like she had planned, just without Woosung’s father. And so she does, the two of them in a tiny apartment in Ilsan, an infant Woosung crying for a father he wouldn’t even remember.

2001.

There’s no reason for Woosung to attend nursery school. His mother’s job as a freelance translator means she can work from home, balancing her responsibilities for work and responsibilities as a mom. They don’t go out much, simply stay safe in their own little world. Woosung’s mom is all he needs, and his mother is happy to provide. That is, until Woosung turns three, and his mother takes him to America to meet his grandparents. Look at him, Mia, they tell Woosung’s mother. He never leaves your side. He doesn’t talk to his cousins. He hardly plays at all. He keeps to himself too much. He doesn’t know how to socialize. What kind of adult will William be if he doesn’t learn how to act as a child?

And they’re right. Woosung is withdrawn, looks at others with fear in his eyes, holds onto his mother’s skirt wherever they go. So, as soon as she gets back to Korea, she enrols him in the first activity she can find that will take three year olds— a ballet class at a studio just a fifteen minute bus ride away. Woosung cries during the first class. He cries during the second. He clings to his mother and begs her not to go. She hushes him, gives him a kiss on the cheek, tells him that if he goes to the class, tries his best, acts like a good boy, they’ll get ice cream later. Isn’t that nice, Will? Wouldn’t you like that?

This is where everything begins.

2003.

Woosung excels in his ballet class. He takes it very seriously, practices at home, hums the complex classical melodies even when class has long ended. He doesn’t become the most talkative kid in the class, not by a long shot, still insecure and devastatingly shy, but he comes out of his shell a bit, shares short sentences with a few of the other kids in his class before and after their lessons. I want to be a dancer, he tells his mom, and he’s good enough, loves it so much that she kisses his head and says of course, Will, whatever you love to do is something worth doing.

But then, Woosung starts school, and the bullying begins. In his dance classes, the other children were too young to understand what it meant when Woosung spoke another language with his mother, and they spent too little time with him to be bothered by it. The children at school, however, understand the difference. They realize that Woosung is different because he speaks a language that isn’t Korean with his mother, because the food he eats for lunch is a bit different from theirs, because he has two different names on his report. So they tease him, pick on him, call him a foreigner, a gyopo, a fake Korean. Woosung’s personality doesn’t help him either, his shyness and lack of interest in anything other than dance making him an easy target. It never progresses beyond name-calling, but it hurts just the same, presses down on Woosung until he withdraws entirely, speaks to hardly anyone. It’s then that he vows to never use his English name again.

2007.

It’s not until Woosung is nearly ten years old that he meets his father again. They never talks about him much, Woosung and his mother, and he would never visit— he lives far from us, Will, it’s hard to get here from Busan. Woosung was never able to forget him, though, reminded of his father’s existence by the cards and small pockets of money that double as birthday gifts and seollal presents. But one November day, when Woosung gets home from school, his mother tells him (in a voice so quiet, nearly sad, your father wants to visit you, William) and Woosung stops.

His father is tall, intimidating, dressed in a suit when he drives up to meet Woosung. (Even that detail is strange to Woosung— his mother has never had a car.) He takes Woosung for dinner, to a restaurant with food that Woosung doesn’t like but chokes down anyways because he’s scared of seeming impolite. He finds out he has sisters— two of them, aged five and two— that he’s never met or heard of before. Woosung, talking for the first time since his father picked him up, asks how they can be his sisters if they don’t have the same mom. His father doesn’t answer, takes him home twenty minutes later.

Back inside his house, the small apartment he shares with his mother, he feels like he’s back in the safe zone. But there is no safe zone anymore, the influence of another world with his father weighing on Woosung even when he’s alone with his mother. And so he withdraws into himself even further, stumbling along the line between two contrasting worlds that he must exist in at the same time.

2011.

Woosung dances every day, now. He’s moved on from ballet, branching out into contemporary, modern, other styles of dance that make use of his lithe frame and flexibility. He finishes school each day and goes straight to practice, logging long hours at the studio, coming home well past sundown and still slaving over his homework. He doesn’t do great in school, but his mother keeps on him, tells him it’s good to have a backup, Will, what if you get injured and you have to stop dancing? It’s a thought that scares him immensely, but he trusts his mother, so he tries his best, forces himself to keep going, stays up well into the night just to keep his head above the water.

But the lessons are getting expensive now, the older Woosung gets and the harder he pushes himself. He starts competing— starts winning, bits of money here and there, small scholarships to workshops— but the costs rack up. His mother is alone, just her and Woosung, and while his dad visits sometimes, he never provides. So it gets harder to put food on the table, harder to pay the bills, and the night that he notices his mother not eating simply because there isn’t enough food, Woosung breaks.

For the first time in his life, Woosung reaches out to his father. It’s not like Woosung has never contacted him before— since Woosung met him four years ago, he makes sure to message him on important days to wish him well, like his father’s birthday, or Parent’s Day. He’s a good son, polite, and he never asks for anything, never asked until that day, when he meets up with his father and asks him for money.

His father doesn’t agree. His father denies him vehemently, once he finds out what the money is for. He’s fuming, yells at Woosung, I already have two other kids to provide for, and you have the audacity to ask me for money for a hobby? For ballet? I won’t support something gay like that.

It’s the first time Woosung hears the word gay like that— used to describe something he loves so dearly, curled up into the seat of his father’s car, his head down and tears in his eyes. He’s heard it snickered behind his back in school, as he got older and the bullying had turned from shouts and jeers to things more subtle. I heard he dances ballet. And he’s never had a crush on anyone, he’s never even talked to any of the girls in our grade. Do you think he’s gay? It still hurt, a lot, his heart aching at each comment, but it was easy enough to tune out, used to it after eight years of snide comments and insults— but this is the first time he hears it so directly. He doesn’t realize why it would be a bad thing, his mother always telling him gently it’s fine to like what you like, as long as you aren’t hurting anyone. But from his father, it sounds bad. It sounds wrong. Woosung doesn’t even know what he likes yet, doesn’t know if he’s gay or not, but it plants the seed then— he can’t be gay, not if he wants to be loved.

Woosung goes home and cries, locks himself in his room, presses his face into his pillow and tries not to make himself as small as possible in hopes that he might disappear. He deliberates it for days, stays up all night thinking. The thought of quitting is unbearable, but there’s no way he can let his mom keep doing this to pay for his dance. After a few days, an idea comes to him, risky yet seductive.

If I get accepted into a good company for my dance, will you help mom pay for it? He texts his dad, too scared to ask him to his face after last time.

His dad agrees.

2012.

Woosung gets scouted less than three months later.

He’d cut out his ballet classes, cut out modern and contemporary, switched to something that people would be interested in him for. Something that people wouldn’t call him gay for. He joins a hip hop academy, fills his time outside of school with that. He learns the basics voraciously, dedicating every second of his time to be able to improve as fast as possible. He doesn’t have the power and swagger that the other dancers have, but he’s toned, coordinated, and expresses feelings well onstage, uses all of it to his advantage to put on a good performance. He tries his best to fit in, to not draw any criticisms, feigns confidence like it’s his job. Two months after he joins his academy, they put on a public performance, and someone in a suit approaches him as he leaves the venue. I work for an entertainment company, they tell him, but Woosung doesn’t hear anything, only sees the MSG on the business card they hand him. We’re looking for new trainees right now for an idol group. You should audition.

Woosung does. He goes to the first audition he can make it to, forks out the little bit of money he has saved to travel to Seoul for it. A week later, his name is on the contract.

2015.

Trainee life is exhausting. As much as Woosung wanted to leave school, dedicate every minute of his life to dance and performance, his mother and the company wouldn’t let it happen. He enrols in SOPA with the companies help, in the Department of Practical Dance, goes to school and study only to train into the wee hours of the morning. He moves into the dorms, away from his mom— as much as it breaks his heart, going between Ilsan and Seoul every day on top of his already intense schedule just wasn’t feasible. Woosung never takes it easy on himself, always pushing himself as much as he can, working as hard as he can. He’s self-critical, incredibly so, uses every second he can in the studios and practices until his body is screaming at him. It seems to pay off, getting him noticed by the company. He doesn’t rank too high in his evaluations, maybe a bit above average, but he gets compliments from his coaches, trainers, teachers. He doesn’t dare take any of it for granted, though; he’s seen it happen, talented trainees letting the praise go to their head, getting cocky, getting comfortable, and in the end, getting dropped from the company. He makes sure he’s always consistent, always hungry, searching to be better. Woosung doesn’t pay much attention to the other trainees, never really makes friends— it’s not like that’s something he’s ever been in the habit of anyways, after how his school life turned out. The cutthroat nature of the trainee industry makes it harder on him too, because the comments turn from general meanness to picking on the parts of himself he has confidence in. They pick on his dancing, about how he lacks power, how he’s too soft in his movements, how he stands out too much that he’ll never fit into a group. The comments break him down even more, tear his confidence to pieces. He doesn’t let it destroy him though, and he doesn’t back out— he’s come too far to quit now, and besides, what would his mother and father think? So woosung just does what he’s always done— keeps his head down, his mouth shut, and works until he can’t anymore.

Then at the end of 2015, right before Woosung is about to go home for the holidays, he’s called for a meeting with five other boys and told they’ll debut. Management explains the concept to them— experimental, powerful, conceptual. It doesn’t seem like it’s anything Woosung will fit into at all, especially when he’s given the label of lead dancer and lead vocal. He doesn’t have the strength behind his voice, the power in his movements to carry such a title. But the company assures him, all smiles, hands on his shoulders, you don’t need to worry, Woosung, you’re handsome onstage. It clicks then, why he’s gotten as far as he has, why the company always seemed to be a bit softer on him. It wasn’t because of his talent, because of his hard work— even though he’s a good dancer and a decent singer, what the company wanted him for was his looks. Everything feels fake now, the compliments, the encouragements, all the work he put in discounted. It feels like a weight on his shoulders, another thing crushing down on him. He resents himself for it, resents not being able to get by on his talent alone, resents the company having to lean into his looks to justify putting him into the group. And yet, months later, despite everything, he debuts.

2019.

Woosung has never had a crush. Never had a true friend, someone his age that he could talk to. Never had a goal other than dance. Never had an urge to open his mouth and speak his mind. But now, things are changing. Woosung has a couple people that he’s comfortable with being around, people who he trusts not to tear him down at the first chance they get. They’re few and far between, his friends, but at least they exist. People still intimidate him, strong, aggressive personalities easily overpowering him, and he’s still devastatingly shy, but he wants to work on it, wants to be able to open up more, be able to show himself in the hopes that people will like him. He has a crush now, maybe. He doesn’t know what it feels like to have a crush, but he thinks this might be it— the heart fluttering, cheek reddening feeling whenever that certain someone is around. He doesn’t think anything will come of it— who would want to date someone like him, twenty-one years old with absolutely no experience— but it’s there. (He’s not gay though. Or, he doesn’t think he’s gay. He can’t be gay, not after what his dad said to him.) He has fans, people who like him, hears good things about himself. They like his English, find him relatable, coo over him, find out his English name, call him Will without it twisting his stomach in the same way. There’s not as much direct bullying anymore, but Woosung is so used to it now, feeling like he’s being criticized for everything he does, that he finds himself being hard on himself. Late nights spent crying in the practice rooms, his body aching so much that it’s hard to get off the ground. He wants to snap out of it, but it’s hard— especially when he sees comments online, fans pitting the members against each other, pointing out how he lacks compared to the main vocal and main dancer. But he’s trying— really, he is— and maybe, one day, he’ll feel good enough.

#id.bio #id.1nferno #id.msg #id.no yoonho #id.honeypot

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON MAYDAY’S MAIN VOCAL KIM EUNHYE...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: n/a CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 19 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 14 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: n/a

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): fans call her “our fairy eunhye” due to her soft visuals and persona. netizens have dubbed her “msg’s babydoll” due to her doll like looks, childlike persona, and concept of her group. INSPIRATION: ever since eunhye was little, she knew she was going to be a famous singer. it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted to do. SPECIAL TALENTS:

she has “eyes on the back of her head” and can guess what people are doing behind her.

she can read palms and tarot cards.

she can do an interpretive dance of a fairy she made up.

NOTABLE FACTS:

she was a diver on her school’s diving team.

she has two older siblings.

she believes in mermaids, fairies, and ghosts.

her mom runs a daycare and she helps with the kids occasionally.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

in the short term, eunhye wants to make a name for herself in the industry, even if it means repeating the same aegyo over and over.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

long term, eunhye hopes to eventually escape being the “oppayah girl” and become known for her voice and talents rather than aegyo.

IDOL IMAGE

our pretty fairy, kim eunhye.

her soft features have enraptured fans, she’s small and delicate, like a butterfly. ever since debut, eunhye has been dubbed “the cute one.” her voice is always overlooked by her persona. she’s unhappy, she’s worked so hard to get to where she is.

being the cutie of the group, eunhye was asked to do aegyo on a variety show. it went viral, causing people to fawn over her cuteness. mayday gained more recognition due to this, msg saw the chance and ran with it. a natural gift had fallen into their hands in the form of a sensitive and broken girl named kim eunhye.

she’s always smiling, acting ditzy and spaced out. she trained for years at msg, and even more at her old company, seemingly all for nothing. all for being known as the oppayah girl.

msg has her wrapped around their finger, eunhye’s willing to do anything to succeed. she’s a pushover and always does what people tell her, even if it makes her feel horrible. they try and make her feel better, she’s their babydoll. they tell her she’s doing everything right, that one day things will get better. she says okay and believes them, her rose colored view of the world consuming her outlook on the industry.

ever night she dreams of being praised for her voice. for being the inspiration for little girls and boys all over the world. for the world to show her that her hard work wasn’t all for nothing. but until then, eunhye’s the viral oppayah girl. not mayday’s talented main vocal, not msg’s babydoll, she’s the oppayah girl. and she’ll pretend to be happy, just like she does everyday.

as the country falls more deeply in love with eunhye, she falls deeper into a hole she can’t get out of. her wings are broken and won’t be healed easily.

our pretty fairy with broken wings, kim eunhye.

IDOL HISTORY

once upon a time, there was a girl named eunhye. she had big dreams and stars in her eyes.

we start her story in the city of cheongju, focusing on a beautiful couple named youngja and jinhyung, and their three children, eunjae, eunmi, and eunhye. life was simple for the family, they ran a small restaurant that was popular among the locals. each of youngja and jinhyung’s children had a special talent. eunjae had proven himself to be an incredibly good soccer player, even at a young age. eunmi’s grades were always the highest in her grade, she was a real teacher’s pet. the youngest, eunhye, took a love to preforming. eunhye’s singing and dance performances at the restaurant always cheered people up, her enthusiasm was endearing just as her voice was.

running with their natural talents, youngja and jinhyung were happy to support their children with whatever they needed. eunhye’s childhood was filled with vocal lessons and occasional dance lessons as well. out of the three children, eunhye’s talents seemed to more prominently manifest themselves. eunjae and eunmi started to notice their parent’s favoritism towards the youngest daughter. so, they worked harder. eunhye remained blissfully unaware of this resentment her siblings had towards her.

in her early teens, eunhye was street scouted by cel entertainment. lucky for them, eunhye was looking for an entertainment company to begin to train at. without knowing, cel took her in as one of their last attempts to find trainees and make a new group.

less than six months later, cel went under, leaving eunhye without a company. she continued working independently, waiting until a public audition for a company. after her fourteenth birthday, she saw a notice for msg entertainment. they were holding public auditions in her city, so she and her parents signed up as quickly as possible.

eunhye was one of few scouted at the public audition, her talent was promising and she had girl group potential. she happily began training again, losing touch with her siblings due to her crazy schedule and their dislike towards her.

her parents supported her closely, but they stopped contacting her after she turned sixteen. she confided in them to keep her secret - she didn’t like boys. she liked girls, she'd always liked girls. they didn’t support her, but they kept her secret. they still love her, after all she is, in their opinion, their most promising child.

eunhye continued to solider on, trying not to let her parents get to her. she didn’t want to make anyone else upset, so she started giving into people’s requests. they’d ask her to get water for them, and she would. they’d tell her not to dress a certain way, and she’d listen.

at nineteen, she was finally announced as a member of mayday, the newest girl group from msg. her soft looks and strong yet calming voice fit mayday’s concept perfectly. she knew she’d succeed, everything felt natural to her.

shortly after her debut, her and her groupmates were featured on a variety show where she was asked to do aegyo. eunhye, of course, did it without hesitation. she didn’t expect it to blow up. her viral aegyo consumed every fan forum or discussion about her group for months. eunhye became known as the ‘oppayah’ girl to people who didn’t know her.

she was happy at first, but when no one started commenting on her talents and msg began pushing aegyo to be her persona, she realized it wasn’t what she wanted. she wanted to be known for her voice, not her cuteness to something so simple.

she started to voice how she felt, but msg was able to shut her down with promises of good things coming from her fifteen minutes of fame.

almost a year later, eunhye’s image among fans and non-fans hasn’t changed. she feels deflated, but she won’t do anything to change how she feels.

her life’s a fairytale, right? it will all work out in the end, right? she waits everyday for her fairytale ending, watching her dream get more distant every second of every minute. yet she waits for her fairy godmother, for her princess who’ll love her forever, for the perfect ending, with nothing changing around her.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.mayday #id.kim jiwoo #id.worldsapart

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON 1NFERNO’S MAIN VOCAL WANG WEI...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 21 TRAINEE SINCE AGE:17 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Modeling

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): Father Wei. As the most levelheaded of the group, Wei is the subject of many jokes involving him being the father of the other 1nferno members INSPIRATION: His career as a model cultivated his adoration of the stage. His father would also sing to him in Cantonese as a child, which was incredibly comforting to him. Wei wanted to bring that comfort to other people SPECIAL TALENTS:

Languages- Wei mostly speaks Korean, but is technically fluent in Thai, Cantonese, and Mandarin. His English, however, could still use some work.

Fitness- Wei can complete 60 push ups in as little as 46 seconds (though he usually averages a minute). He also lifts large amounts of weight.

Memory- Wei has an excellent memory, which makes him good at matching games, but also makes it difficult to pull anything over on him.

NOTABLE FACTS:

Wang Wei was a low tier high fashion model from ages 15-17.

His father is Chinese, from Hong Kong, and his mother is Thai.

Despite being ethnically Chinese, he considers himself Korean, having lived in the country since he was four years old.

His family is incredibly wealthy, so he has a tendency to act a bit posh.

He played piano for six years, but he never enjoyed it. Any attempts to get him to show off his skills are usually met with reluctance.

Had he never debuted, Wei would have considered a degree in political science.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

It is no secret that Wei is a bit more serious than others. He is constantly seeking ways to promote himself, whether it is through modeling or commercials or any other way. The time between comebacks is not time off, but an opportunity to prove himself as an individual

LONG-TERM GOALS:

Wei would enjoy producing music someday, but because of his levelheaded nature, his position as the main vocal, and his Chinese heritage, MSG is pushing for him to become a soloist. Wei is still unsure, except that it could possibly give him an opportunity to have some agency with the group’s sound someday

IDOL IMAGE

As one of the “most adult” members in 1nferno (at least, when speaking for behavior), MSG figured Wei would be the perfect role model of the group, the foil to any bubbly, wild personalities. He was going to be suave, sophisticated, maybe a little cool. Because his parents were wealthy, he was trained in etiquette, in schmoozing, in everything many other normal people couldn’t quite fathom. He could behave. MSG wanted to utilize that charm do compete with Titanium and Nitro, to show them that they were a force to be reckoned with. They wanted Wei to be respectable and he was more than happy to oblige. Really, that was the appeal of Wei. He never tilted windmills. Stalwart, reliable Wei would never have a scandal, would never make them sweat, and would be the dream of girls everywhere without them ever risking him stepping over the line. 

Unfortunately, a side effect of his clean cut (yet cool) personality is that Wei is not exactly allowed to have fun. He cannot make jokes, just smooth comments, maybe flirt a little in that subtle way of his. Of course, that is a recent development, since 1nferno has not been around for too long and while Wei is an adult by any standards there are minors in the 1nferno fanbase, which means he has to keep it minimal. It is okay to give the fans hope, just not wreck his career by inadvertently starting a rumor. Some criticize him for being a stick in the mud, always refusing to do anything dorky or nerdy or silly. It does not align with his image. Variety shows were clearly never going to be his strong suit, so MSG steered him back towards modeling, insisting it was a perfect way to make him seem cultured, to remind people he may be boring but he is still incredibly pretty. They also figured it was a good way to get his name out there before their other plans for him, particularly when 1nferno became so popular in China.

IDOL HISTORY

Wang Wei’s life began when he was four years old and his parents moved him from Hong Kong to Gangnam. It was not a difficult transition for Wei, who was young enough to adapt to the situation. He was placed in an average (albeit private) Korean school and became emerged in Korean culture. It became a part of him, as it was his home much longer than China ever was. Except, as Korean as he felt, everyone still always saw a Chinese boy. His accent could improve, he could pick up the slang, but there would always be those to point out that he did not belong. It made Wei learn to keep to himself, giving him few close relationships.

His father owned a large business conglomerate and it was always expected that he would take over as the only child. Really, he was the perfect fit for the position, at least on paper. By the time he was twelve, he got along better with his elders than he did with people his own age. He knew how to discuss politics while simultaneously not ruffling any feathers and what version of himself to use for every situation. Manipulative, maybe, but it was hardly an issue. The Wangs knew the importance of doing anything necessary to get at the top. Allies were more necessary than friendships and nothing was more important than success. His father taught him that. Nothing mattered except the goal; how you got there was of little circumstance. His father spent all his time at the office, so Wei and his mother hardly got to see him. He cared more about making his business prosper, about defeating the competition. That was probably what drove his parents’ marriage to the ground. After nine years of living in Korea, it was as much his mother’s home as his and she refused to be away from Wei. As his father was grooming him to take over his empire, Wei could hardly go back to China and live a normal life. So, they agreed to do joint custody. 

From ages thirteen to fifteen, Wei was shuffled between his mother’s house and his father’s mansion. They both tried to make him the middle man, which ended in him spending all his time at after school clubs. They loved him. He never doubted that. They just hated each other more. So, he kept playing the piano, though he hated it, and joined the school choir, though he was not much of a team player, because it kept him away from both his houses. Even when he had nothing to practice, he took to going to local coffee shops, figuring it was better than listening to his mom complain about who his father was dating, or be ignored by his father for paperwork. It was during one of those aimless trips that a modeling scout approached him. Wei never had any deigns on being a model or being anything really. It was always about the family business; even his own mother took it as a given. Wei would have never considered such a rebellion had his father not announced his remarriage later that week. The small part of him that hoped his parents would make up someday died and he called the number on the card. Wei decided he wanted to be a model and that would be that. Both his parents told him how awful the idea would be. He was too young to make such a decision, he needed to focus on his studies, the head of the Wang empire could not be some common model. The discussion resulted in his first screaming match with his father and a week of radio silence after. In the end, Wei decided it would be easier to convince his mother, particularly if he pited her against her ex-husband. Really, it only took the words “dad said you would be too afraid to disagree with him”. She gave her blessing and Wei began his career. He also began an incredibly strained relationship with his father. The beginning of the end.

His stepmother and step siblings were hardly unpleasant. In fact, he got along well with them. They were certainly more sympathetic than his father, who seemed to think tough love was the only way to get him to become practical again. After his father ghosted him on his eighteenth birthday, one of his new siblings dragged him to an audition for MSG, figuring it would be a fun little story for the two little rich kids to share with their friends. Neither of them expected them to make it through the process. Wei had no classical vocal training, aside from those years of choir. Though, piano had taught him a thing or two about pitch and tone as well. After finding out where the two were, his father outright forbid him to do become a trainee. He could either quit that damn dream and being a model or he would be disowned. Wei remained full time with his mother from then on. It would be a long time before his father so much as called him again. 

Wei spent the next four years juggling training and school. The happiest moment of his life was when he debuted with 1nferno, the boys becoming the closest thing he ever had to friends. Unfortunately, he did not foresee a whole new force in his life trying to control him. Wei had traded his father for MSG. They informed every aspect of his life, tailoring him to succeed in the kpop industry, even if he did not agree with their decisions.

Wei never expected becoming an idol to be easy, but he never expected for people to become hung up on his background. He considered himself Korean more than anything, but the rest of the world didn’t see him that way. They saw him as a “foreigner”, which helped with international sales, particularly in China, but made every childhood insecurity he ever felt pop up. There were also rumors about how his rich parents must have bought him into the position, which was the furthest thing from the truth. MSG took him having a solo as a given, as he was the main vocal and Chinese, which would help with their international sales. 

Currently, his relationship with his father is still rocky. Wei is still lucky to receive a phone call every six months from him, which usually results in him reminding him that the business is still there and his career might not be the next time he calls. One of his stepbrothers has instead taken his former position as future heir. His mother, despite allowing him to do it, is reluctantly supportive at best.

Wei has never regretted being part of 1nferno. As someone with no aim in life prior to joining MSG, he never expected to love anything as much as he does being on stage. So, if he has to give in to MSG and give up half his sanity to do it, he will. If he has to claw his way past Titanium and Nitro, he won’t hesitate to pull the charm. He might not be what the Wang family expected, but in the end, he is his father’s son. Stubborn until the very end.

#id.bio #id.wong yukhei #id.1nferno #id.msg

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON MAYDAY’S MAIN VOCAL, LEAD DANCE MOON YOONYOUNG...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Youmi CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 22 TRAINEE SINCE AGE:15 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): honey, youdoll (a combination of a her stage name and doll, on account of her delicate features) INSPIRATION: she fell in love with music after first listening to the albums of korean artists from the late 70s to mid 80s. SPECIAL TALENTS:

creating acrostic poems on the spot

holding out notes for extended periods of time

imitating cartoon characters

NOTABLE FACTS:

as a child, she suffered from a mild case of arrhythmia (slow beating of the heart).

she is the middle child in her family with an older sister and a younger brother.

she once mentioned in a vlive that her favorite artist is claude monet.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

after waiting so long to enter the spotlight, yoonyoung plans on putting all her efforts into making mayday a group to remember—even if it means playing into a character for the sake of maintaining a well-liked image. already, it seems like the company is pushing her into modeling, a ploy to attract more visually-inclined fans. building a large social media following is also in the works, her public instagram essentially turning into a fashion blog. outside of mayday (and the plans the company has for her), yoonyoung wants to improve her skills not just as performer but as a creator as well and put that composition degree to good use. she hopes that in the coming months, management will allow her to let more of her creativity show through in whatever way that may be.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

ultimately, yoonyoung wants to be able to put out her own music. that’s what it’s always been about, after all; sharing her voice, her unique sound with the world. her goal is to delve into self-production  work slowly but surely. the first step, of course, is to have more creative input in mayday’s discography. after that, she’d like to do lyric work for other artists, and eventually release original songs. she wants to establish herself as a distinct voice in the korean entertainment industry, setting herself apart by giving the people something they won’t be able to find anywhere else.

IDOL IMAGE

be kind. be gentle. be loving.

“do that,” her manager tells her the night before their debut showcase, “and you’ll be the nation’s sweetheart in no time.”

she wants to tell him that’s what he said when she first became a trainee so long ago, that it’s been seven years already without a single claim to fame. and that’s not what this is about, no. it’s never been about the recognition, but the point remains.

she’s a nobody.

they decide to play into the innocence of youth. doll-like. someone to be cared for, bringing out the need to protect in others. in the weeks that follow their debut, she clings to her members for dear life, hiding her face in their necks, pink blush high on her cheeks. a soft-spoken gem, youmi is the girl who can do no wrong. she becomes mayday’s resident baby, doted on and coddled like something precious.

she’s shy, or so it seems, preferring to let the others take the mic while she stands back and nods her head in support.

her nature is also elegant. a subtle sort of sophistication made soft by fanciful berets and dresses with hanging white lace, speech formal and polite.

but the truth?

the truth is she can hardly hold her tongue when she’s in public, has to physically bite down on her bottom lip until it threatens to burst to keep her words at bay. the truth is she’d go all day in wearing pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt if she could, can’t stand how pale her face is made to look beneath the bright stage lights (longs for the touch of sun on that comes with memories of home), is constantly seconds away from bursting at the seams with all the thoughts and feelings and conflicting emotions she has bottled up inside her rapidly beating heart.

the truth is she’s swears and drinks and tells jokes that often go over people’s heads. she’s rough around the edges, sarcastic when the situation calls for it, and can’t stand backing down from a challenge. she thinks the world, as it is, could learn a thing or two from her, from women in general.

but people don’t want a country bumpkin who’s not afraid to get down and dirty. they want a pretty and silent thing, something to show off.

so she will be kind, gentle, loving for now if it means a future that is set in stone and a chance to grab at something more.

IDOL HISTORY

moon 文.

dalseong-gun, daegu. a place of sun and wind and everything nice.

she grows up surrounded by family, always. whether it’s watching her grandmother work magic in the kitchen or chasing her cousins through strawberry fields that stretch as far as the eye can see, she is never without warmth at her side. early on, she learns that love comes in many forms: her mother’s big bear hugs, yoonoh’s quiet reassurances, yoona’s careful guidance. all these things and more, such beautiful professions of adoration and love.

this is the life she lives. and there is so much good within it.

the dream doesn’t come until a little later. it begins as a sapling. she’s seven the first time she listens to one of her father’s old records. yoonyoung watches with wide eyes as he slides the disk out of its vinyl album cover with careful hands, setting it down on the record player. the room fills with crooning voices on top of lilting melodies, painting the most vivid scenes behind her closed eyes. a musical seed is planted that day, one of shimmering infatuation. it grows a with every waking moment.

musicophile. that’s the word her father uses to describe her, lover of sound. her great aunt prefers the term gifted. and when yoonyoung sings at dinners, hosts her very own concert right out on the front porch steps, her aunt says she’s got that god-given gift, a natural-born talent. the kind that takes you places. takes you far, far away from small towns like theirs.

in the coming years, yoonyoung dives headfirst into the world of music. her town is small enough that everyone quickly learns of the littlest moon daughter’s quest to become the greatest musician of her generation. the community pitches in to provide her with the skills needed to carry out such a huge feat. she’s taught how to place her fingers on guitar strings every sunday from mr. jung down the road and wakes up long before the sun to meet ms. jinhee, the kindergarten teacher, for weekly vocal lessons.

it isn’t long before the chance to prove herself presents itself in the form a nationwide audition from one of korea’s most renowned idol companies, midas media. her father drives the whole family out to the city in support of their future star. she walks into her audition with all the blind optimism a fourteen-year-old can muster, radiating confidence like no one’s business.

but all the confidence in the world can’t make up for the talent she so obviously lacks. when weeks go by without a response, yoonyoung is smart enough to know what that means.

six months later, there’s another opportunity to be had: 99 entertainment’s annual talent search. it’s a sign, she thinks, when the news reaches her ear during a trip to the farmer’s market. this time, only yoona goes with her.

the result is the same as last time.

still, she doesn’t cry. good things come to those who wait, or so her uncle always told her. if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

for the first time, her mother begins to show fear. fear for her daughter who dares to dream in a world as cruel and unfair as this one. in the late afternoons, the woman stands in her bedroom doorway watching as yoonyoung struggles through chord progressions, practices switching keys and shaping her mouth to allow for stronger high notes, better sound, and her heart aches in the way only a mother’s can.

“just let me try one more time,” she insists. “please.”

her mother never could tell her no.

yoon 倫.

shortly after receiving her letter in the mail. saying goodbye is the hardest part, and it claws at her heart so fiercely, she’s not sure the wounds will ever fully heal. family and friends gather at their house for her official send-off, bearing gifts and unbidden love and wishes of good fortune.

fifteen years old, and seoul is a city of endless wonder.

yoonyoung moves into msg entertainment’s trainee dorms with little more than the essentials—toothbrush, her guitar, yoonoh’s favorite stuffed bunny. it’s an adjustment, for sure, but it helps that she’s used to sharing space with others. if she stretches her imagination, it’s not too different from sleepovers with her cousins, all twelve of them huddled together on the living room floor. she tries to make friends with the other girls, get to know them and their stories. some entertain choose to her, but most prefer to keep to themselves. it’s hard not to stick out with her sun-kissed skin and heavily accented words, but she embraces her daegu roots.

a year passes in which she learns how to move her body in ways that don’t cause secondhand embarrassment. she’s not a dancer by any means, but she has to at least dance if she’s ever going to have a shot at debuting.

then a year turns into two with no clear vision for yoonyoung. they allow her to go to school for music composition in the meantime. she’s not stupid, knows it’s a means of distracting her from management obvious lack of direction, but she divides her time between classes and training as best she can anyway.

soon.

the word flits around in her head like a restless bird, wings forming hurricanes in her soul. there’s never a date attached to the end of it, simply the promise of an unforeseeable light at the end of a never-ending tunnel. every push for more information is met with ambiguity. she’s told to wait a little longer.

soon.

wasn’t it not too long ago that she was telling herself the same thing?

between cramming for exams, she works on bettering herself as a musician. picks up the piano  and spends evenings studying black and white keys, trying to make sense of the notes in front of her. builds a portfolio of music, handwritten eighth and quarter and sixteenth notes scribbled on blank pages in between plucking guitar strings. writing lyrics, lyrics. so many lyrics. pouring her heart into every character, every syllable, aching for home. the isolation isn’t intentional. it just happens. it doesn’t matter. she’s stretching herself thin, but that doesn’t matter either because at least she’s being productive.

even if she’s been stuck in the same place for the past six years. even if her hope has waned over time, certain idealisms traded for crushing realism.

soon.

then one day, it comes. she can see it approaching, the light at the end of the tunnel. yoonyoung told that she’s been placed into a group slated to debut sometime next summer. it’s really, truly happening. two other girls have already been added to the lineup as well. yoonyoung has to pinch herself in the arm to make sure she’s not dreaming.

that night, tears stream down her face in rivulets, soaking her pillow. she laughs and laughs until she’s pink in the face, rolls around on her mattress and squeals into the sheets.

and to think, she’d almost forgotten what happiness feels like.

young 永.

it’s the birth of an era.

mayday debuts as msg’s attempt at a brand new, fresh-faced, girl group to complement their sister group’s trendy vibes. she’s thrown into the role of the regal doll, acting younger than she is all the while maintaining an air similar to that of a princess in the hopes stealing the hearts of many. they’re performing on music shows, making variety appearances, having photoshoots with established brands.

for a rookie group, they’re doing fairly well. it’s not the image or sound she’d hoped for, but it’s something. and that’s more than she thought she was ever going to get.

a week after their first comeback, a letter comes in from her mother. written on her favorite blue stationary in purple ink, her mother’s pen strokes burst pride and joy. at the bottom, the signatures of all the people she holds closest to her heart. yoonyoung rereads it three times before hugging it to her chest.

here she is.

a star in the making.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.mayday #id.kim sojung

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON CHERRY BOMB!’S MAIN DANCE GUN MONA...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 25 DEBUT AGE: 19 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 14 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Modeling (cf)

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): Momo, Moe, Mong (몽), 징징 INSPIRATION: As a child, she’d perform for her father, her brother, and eventually her small town community and found a lot of joy in entertaining them and making them laugh. She’s always loved performing and singing, but hadn’t really thought about doing it for a profession, despite being musically inclined. A young fan of the first-generation K-pop groups like S.E.S and Fin.K.L., she was persuaded to perform on K-pop Star just to see if she liked performing, and found it exhilarating. Hasn’t looked back since. SPECIAL TALENTS:

No-laughing challenge master

Notoriously bad at tongue twisters

Has a whistle register

NOTABLE FACTS:

Very active on her personal and the groups’ SNS and interacts a lot with fans of both the group and herself personally

When she was a K-pop Star contestant, she notably performed ‘U Go Girl’ and impressed the judges with her energy (and cuteness)

Is “jokingly” known to be a huge party girl, idol friends and celebrities she’s familiar with say she has an “iron stomach” when it comes to soju

Known for her funny expressions that can’t hide how she feels - most often it’s her resting bitch face or an unamused one, but also some wacky ones

Crochets little stuffed animals as a hobby

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

Right now, she’s looking to solidify her position as a “CF queen” — wants brands to look at her as someone that’s popular with general public and that, frankly, they’ll shell out big bucks to exclusively sign as their brand model. She also wants to venture into another field or two to supplement the wave of popularity she’s been lucky to experience thus far: an acting stint, perhaps, or maybe variety where historically she’s been a little bit more successful and more comfortable with. More for herself than for her career, she’s been keen on becoming serious as a performing artist, and is looking into music production in her spare time.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

As her relevance (also known as: time frame) as an idol fades, Mona would want to try to go solo, since her love for her craft is a life-long one, but is more than ready to complement a solo career with recognition for the other talent she’s currently deciding between. She’d like to transition her “image” as that charming, relatable girl-next-door look into someone more womanly and self-assured. Someone authentic. In a more career-oriented sense, she wants to achieve the ability to pick and choose the brands that she models for and still receive hefty contracts, in the vein of Won Bin’s star power. Overall, she’d like to shed the ‘idol’ image and turn into that of an ‘artist’ - someone well-respected in the public eye that carries life-long relevance.

IDOL IMAGE

It’s an undeniable truth to say that there is a first impression of her, and that it is always, without fail, this: she’s pretty. Remarkably pretty, in a plain, malleable sort of way. Not too sharp that she cuts, alienates — just soft enough to mould into whatever you want her to be. Most people don’t care for much else besides the first look, so it’s perfectly fine that she’ll be the pretty one, memorable if only fleetingly. It works, anyway — the relatability of her features, parts of it (of her) desirable and the other parts identifiable, make her an easy pick-up for brands to plaster on their products. Girl-next-door with wisps of maturity, of a sex appeal her members don’t quite possess. The kind of soft girl that the public loves to rest between their teeth. Palatable — just so.

You don’t have to be much more than a pretty face and a good dancer, they’ve told her in the past. Don’t stray from your design, is what they mean.

Don’t be you. There’s nothing appealing about it.

She tries. Walks the tightrope between the image of her and the girl inside — tries to dull a blunt tongue, smooth a passionate expression, tame the soft cruelty that makes up her marrow. Spends years running back and forth between wanting and having. Should haves and could haves. There’s the artist she wants to be, the truth that wants to will itself into existence; then there’s the girl that’ll actually succeed — merely pretty, with hidden laughs and closed smiles, speaking well but not too much, both seductive and restrained. So consumed by the thought of others that she tries to smooth herself out until there’s nothing left of her, manufactured out of her system.

She’s told, time and again, that her beauty is the only thing that matters — and, to be frank, she’s tired of it. Tired of being told. So she resolves to take it — their power, her weakness — into her own hands, tilt the scales in her favor. Manifest destiny, or some bullshit like that.

The public eats it up.

The newfound authenticity to her — the poignant way she expresses a confidence she’s found that she’s had, how she isn’t afraid to be desirable, how she pushes the boundary of acceptably self-loving is not so off-putting as it is intriguing. Everybody loves to hate on a woman in control, except with the way she carries herself, haughty but not in-your-face, there’s less to hate and more to admire. It helps that she’s older now, less tied to a youthful, innocent image and settling into the confident niche of her group like she was always meant to be there. Girl-next-door that’s matured into a woman — still pretty, still relatable, but with a voice that’s truly her own. Fears nothing: not the hurtful comments, lustful gazes — doesn’t mind being the sophisticated ‘sex bomb’ she’s grown to be one minute, all-natural the next, an everyday adult woman.

It’s appealing, she supposes, to see a girl grow up. Become more assertive, fill into her skin (or shed the layers that were well past due). Not trying to appease, not blinded by the limelight. At a time when she’s finally happy with herself, everyone seems to be happy with her too. With a tacit blessing, she’s let herself be unafraid to be her, for now.

Just don’t stray out of line, they whisper.

(I don’t care, she wants to say back.)

IDOL HISTORY

In the summer of 1999, she leaves.

.

It doesn’t take Mona very long to realize that her mother isn’t coming back. What with the way her father sits on the side of the bed that used to be hers, head in his palms, back poised for a knife that isn’t there, but it feels like he’s bleeding anyway. She stops questioning him soon after that — too scared, perhaps, of the consequences. One parent’s gone, no need for another to disappear too.

Home isn’t ever the same afterwards. Going from four to barely three leaves a big gaping hole in the fabric, seams loose and aching. Dinners, for example, are sombre affairs, heavy with the knowledge of the empty chair at the table. Weekends, too, are quiet — where her mother used to sing, silence makes itself heard, a loud ringing in the ears. The sound of loss is deafening, they all find out in time.

She tries to pretend that it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

(It’s not, of course. Six year old fingers aren’t meant to hold up the spines of men — their wilting, their hollowness. No wonder she doesn’t grow up proper; no wonder that there ends up being something wrong.)

There are days when her father cannot look at her. She has her mother’s eyes.

.

Sunday in July. S.E.S. and sunlight waft through old speakers and cracks in the curtains respectively. Like calm before a storm.

Mona can’t help but sing along when the chorus comes on, all light tone and childish chipper. She realizes — there’s been no singing since she left. Since she took the singing with her. Stops short when father’s wiry figure hovers at the doorway, quiet as always. Time won’t heal his wounds, but it has allowed him to forget as a reprieve. Until now.

“I didn’t —“

“Keep singing, Mona,” he says. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a smile — so sad, but so happy at once. “It’s beautiful.”

So she does.

.

The moment she steps onto the shining, fluorescent-washed stage is the time she realizes: it’s different. Not at all like sinking her feet into the sofa of her living room, moving like clockwork to her father’s favorite songs, singing along. Nor is it like standing on the rickety wooden floor of her local community center, performing for the people she’s grown up around, who would love her no matter what she’d do.

This is Seoul, with all of its steel and its glamour and a cruelty that leaves fourteen year old her starstruck. This is the tipping point.

After all is said and done, she doesn’t get very far. Pretty, and a vibrant performer, but too rough, too unpolished to win a competition of the best. She’s not even sure the praise they’d given her was real — everything about it had seemed so manufactured. Machinery running through their motions. Leaves her feeling like she had less than she had started with; and she wants more.

Someone slips her a small white card before she leaves the building. You’ve got potential, they’d said. Audition.

Weeks pass and the details imprints themselves into the back of her brain: rudimentary black symbols that bely the possibility of fame, of fortune, of a life greater than her small town all in the sharp cuts of their lines. Curiosity has always been her vice, thorns strangling tighter until she has to find out what’s on the other side.

The tension, her wanting: both palpable. Her little town on the outskirts of Daegu cannot contain it. Everything’s tasteless, everything’s sober. It’s painfully obvious that she wants this. Wants more. Her mother, she recalls, had felt the same way. The parallels scare her. Her mother’s eyes. Her mother’s voice. Her mother’s self-regard. Hers, now, too.

She hates the look in her father’s eyes when she says she’s going to Seoul. Hates it even more when she forgets how he looked when she gets accepted by MSG entertainment, to begin her training as soon as possible.

When she packs her bags and says goodbye, she leaves him slumped in the dining chair she’d made her own for years.

Three becomes two. Feels like there’s nothing left of family anymore.

.

Trainee life is cyclical. Breathe in, breathe out: dance, sing, weigh, repeat. She wonders: why did they let her through when all they seem to want is to strip her gone? They lash her tongue to strip the satoori from her vocabulary; starve away the parts of her that make her her — her bold tongue, her small-town naivety, her childish innocence. Scrub the poverty from her until she’s wiped clean. You’re not here to be you, they tell her in between lines. You’re here to be a god.

Giving her best becomes harder when there’s nothing left to give, so she starts giving pieces of herself in its place. She wants this, she wants this, she wants this. Guilt propels her — her father, all the way back in Daegu, sitting with his head in his palms like she’d left him, just like her mother had before her. All the way here and she hears his howling (or maybe now it’s coming from her).

Torn between this choice: the her of before, and the her that could be.

She chooses the latter. Too many bridges burnt now to go back, she thinks. See the selfish through.

.

Idol life is an open door leading straight into hell.

She’s always so tired. Always so lost. She’d thought wrong: had been mistaken that they’d finally let her be when she debuted. Their hands go deeper now — not ghosting along the lines of her, but into her, become her ribcage and her spine and her mouth. Dissonance, it’s termed: her between closed doors, witching hour in her bedroom, and her in front of the camera. Does her father recognize her? Does she?

Pretty, they tack onto her shoulders. Pretty and docile. Perhaps it’s because she’s become awkward — lost her confidence as she’s risen to the top — but when they tell her keep quiet, she listens. Strange, feeling faceless when the only thing she’s known for is her face. It frustrates her, going through the motions, known foremost for the outside of her, a part of her that’s been an afterthought; then, just barely, how well she dances, how her body moves. Nothing about her — her love for music, her craft, or how funny she can be, or how much she wants to just be.

When she left her family, when she chose herself over others, she didn’t think she’d lose them both.

One day, her father calls. Asks why she sounds so sad. Because I left you, she says. Because I was selfish. And all for nothing — now I can’t even sing how I want, or act how I want, or be how I want. Are you proud of me? Do you hate me for leaving you behind?

Keep singing, Mona, he says. It’s beautiful.

(Be you, Mona. You’re beautiful.)

So she does.

.

Maybe her wounds will heal — maybe, quite possibly, they won’t. But inevitably, she’ll forget them once in a while. Slowly, she learns to let herself go — that is, the idea she has of herself go. It’s no good trying to be someone she’s not; she’s no actress, not at all suited to playing a part. They’d told her it would be her downfall, being herself,  being real. She intends to make it her strength.

It starts off slow, the slippage. A strut down the walkway, a haughty gaze at the camera, a flash of skin here and there. Candid in her interviews, still reserved, but more at ease than ever. Yeah, she’s watched adult films; yeah, she can hold her soju; yeah, she’ll talk about how she had loved a boy and lost him. The more she lets loose, the more comfort she feels — the most comfortable she’s felt in her own skin in years.

In the end, they’re intrigued by this new girl in front of them — the rawness, the realness, the subtle haughtiness. Who is this new Mona? They ask.

She’s always been this Mona, she says, smile on her face — open-mouth, teeth shining and everything.

For the first time, she feels centred. Feels alive.

#id.bio #id.milkclub #id.msg #id.lee hyeri #id.cherry bomb!

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN VOCAL PARK RUWON...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 26 DEBUT AGE: 21 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 19 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Musical acting

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): wonnie, vitamin d ( explained away as a revitalizing stand in for sunshine on variety, he cringes too ) INSPIRATION: a desire to soothe the souls of people the same way his favorite singers did growing up ( or so says his profile. it’s somewhat true, though his inspiration for why he became an idol singer in the first place was simply because he was unsure of his chances of making it in his originally desired career choice ). SPECIAL TALENTS:

can sing high enough to crack glass ( or so says his profile. he actually can’t, but he’ll try it out on variety and get into fake arguments with mcs about how they need to get their eyes checked when they inspect it after the fact and say he’s lying ).

killing point dances ( or so says his profile. he’s not the worst dancer in the entire world, but he is terrible at picking up and remembering choreography. he’ll usually recycle the same three dance moves while adamantly insisting he’s doing it perfectly, and that everyone still needs to get their eyes checked ).

can perfectly imitate any animal on cue ( or so says his profile. he does an alright pigeon and dog, and anything that’s technically silent. beyond that and it’s a bit of a stretch. when desperate, he’ll start insisting that motor vehicles also count, and that everyone needs to get their ears checked ).

NOTABLE FACTS:

was scouted at one of his university’s musical performances when he was in his first year. musical theater was his major.

he took a deferment from school but finished his degree between the years 2014-2016 when indigo was struggling and given smaller promotions as a result.

has become known as a musical actor, and before indigo appeared on re.group felt more recognized for that rather than being a member of indigo.

is known still as a ‘happy pill’ member after putting too much emphasis and overacting into variety during indigo’s debut when they were struggling.

has a biting sense of humor, though it’s often covered up and forgiven due to how he plays it off after ( he has a rather infectious laugh and innocent face ).

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

as far as his career goes, ruwon has two goals. to try and keep the ball rolling with indigo’s newfound fame, and to continue to pad his resume as a musical theater performer. he wants to accumulate more lead roles and really prove himself as a singer, so he doesn’t have to keep seeing the word ‘idol’ stuck next to his name whenever he lands himself a role. like meat to critics wanting to rip casting directors for it.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

as far as where ruwon’s loyalties lie, it’s always been with his own aspirations. and his own aspiration has always been to make it on stage. but not on music shows. instead, the sort of stages that are strung up with heavy red curtains and have an orchestra to punctuate whatever outlandish story he’s singing about. what ruwon has always wanted to do was the become a musical theater performer. he took msg’s offer because he was unsure of his chances in his not-so-great university. but indigo is more of a stepping stone than anything. and in all honesty, indigo’s sudden surge of popularity only muddies the waters of ruwon’s future plans rather than revitalizes him

IDOL IMAGE

just like indigo itself, ruwon’s brand has changed and shifted along with the group’s image. it makes sense. version one didn’t work out. so it was erased. as well as ruwon, or who he was in the group ( to a certain extent ). sometimes ruwon wishes he’d gotten a stage name pushed at him, or cared enough to fight for one. then it would seem less personal. at the beginning, they were the same as everyone else under msg’s roster, eclectic, edgy, with one song sounding like 14 glued together and dances that ruwon really couldn’t keep up with. he could help carry the group vocally when they lowered the volume on their backing tracks at music shows, but ruwon hadn’t been signed as a dancer and it showed.

so how do you make fans love a member thrown into a clearly performance based group to balance out that vocal line, that can’t quite keep up? you make him infectiously happy! give that exec another raise, a true visionary. ruwon became a happy pill. and then an over the top one when it became clear that indigo were floundering and it was at least moderately easy for mcs to play off it at the few variety shows they were invited to. he’d laugh ( too loudly, because he needed to get a reaction ), he’d attempt to copy dances ( poorly, to get a laugh. cement an image of himself as the kid with two left feet ). make a big deal over his ‘special talents’ ( and try to turn it into a comedic bit, because who cared what ruwon was really interested in? ). ruwon was happy, bright, and comedic relief throughout indigo’s advent.

they slower down, a few years with one korean promotion each and ruwon left that persona for moments on camera. treated the man that did musicals as a different entity entirely. then the last-ditch variety show happened. they shot to fame, another member pulled in large viewership and popularity ( despite ruwon going out and making a fool of himself all those years, and for what? ) new music, new songs, new fans, another token comeback under an experimental idea for msg ( which, funnily enough, was to try out non-experimental ), and suddenly indigo is an entirely new group. it feels like it anyway.

gone are the days of choppy electronica and spending exhausting hours in a practice room trying to keep up, vocals coming second. it’s a concept that suits ruwon more, but now feels strange. his identity is shifted, subtly, to keep up. that old ruwon can’t just disappear. but he doesn’t need to be a tryhard anymore. sometimes he’s still regarded as annoying as he figures out how much to dial down, what to rewire and change. he’s allowed to shift his brand of humor as a result. a little more impish, a little snarkier. he covers it with a laugh, because now he can fall back on that old happy pill familiarity of just wanting everyone to have a good time. so he’s still pushed as humorous. he’s still pushed as bright. but now they try to push his talent, too. he’s getting more chances to push his interest forward with musicals now that they wanted indigo to be branded as a ‘talent-focused’ sort of group. it feels excessive, and it feels like a fluke. ruwon settles like a stranger into his own remodeled skin.

IDOL HISTORY

PARK RUWON – the fall, flatline, and slow climb of a unknown idol.

PLAYBOOK.

WHO’S WHO IN THE CAST?

a deadbeat father. he was probably a drunk, he probably hated his life, he probably hated his mother, and he probably hated ruwon himself. when presented with the possibility of divorce, he left and dropped the shame of raising a child as a single parent in his mother’s lap. probably off somewhere working on a ship yard. a small role, name unimportant.

a single mother. kim misook, managerial position at a private hospital. she had ruwon a little too young and divorced soon after. additional details of the marriage are withheld from ruwon ( and, subsequently, the audience ). deals with muted stress, often put ruwon first. managed to work her way into a better lifestyle over the years. now somewhat comfortable, but she was dealt a harder hand at the beginning.

their child. park ruwon, grew up without some of the opportunities of his peers. his mother couldn’t afford multiple after school academies or private kindergarten on a one parent salary. had some amount of talent when it came to singing. wouldn’t bench his dreams. is a quasi-mix of illogical, stubborn, and unresponsive to the realities of the world until they hit him hard.

msg. the entertainment company that signed him. whoever first started calling all those executives sharks was probably right.

indigo. the boys he was thrown into a group with. ruwon’s future distilled into a single, depressive color.

SYNOPSIS

ruwon doesn’t remember his father. he left too early, before memories formed and solidified. he’d been interested in him at first, like some kids in similar shoes. that lingering hope that he wasn’t abandoned. that he was a secret agent. or an astronaut, pioneering through space. the whimsical stories from the mind of a five year old not yet ready to hear the truth. eventually it was put to bed when ruwon got old enough to understand why his mother cried sometimes behind the locked door of the bathroom. curiosity turned into resentment. communities aren’t always nice to families in situations like theirs. and public schools aren’t always nice, either. bullying happens to everyone. someone’s too pretty, another is too ugly. he’s too short and she’s not smart enough. ruwon’s parents were divorced. that was what got him picked on when he was younger. and then in trouble later, with reddened knuckles and a scowl in place. his mother’s sad eyes when a teacher explained that ruwon had lashed out and used physical violence when he could’ve used words. that was his childhood. not all bad. not all good.

when he gets older, he discovers singing. music. it’s high school and he’s in a club. he likes the stage, and picking roles. getting to pretend to be someone he isn’t for the duration of the show. he likes the music, everything sung out and emotionally high or low in a way that feels so much more gripping to him than anything in a movie. he falls in love with the stage. that stage. his mother’s sad eyes come back when ruwon wants to treat this seriously. when he tells her he wants to get it together, study harder for the entrance exam. that his music teacher thinks he has real talent, not just the sort they tell kids to make them feel better about themselves. but that maybe he could pull it off, this dream. turn it into a career. that one in a million shot. those one in a million shots are helped along by people with the money needed to push them along though, and his mother knows this. so he lives with heavy lunged sighs and subtle shakes of her head whenever he brings it up, like that will dissuade him. it doesn’t, because he isn’t yet ready to face reality. he wants to keep believing he can squeeze into his pipe dream. he’s seen his mother’s life, and he doesn’t understand why he has to do it too. why he should keep living for the miserable and rote. he wants to make it. he wants to get into a good school. a really great one, where he can network his way onto a bigger stage.

but ruwon doesn’t. because life isn’t a fairy tale, and reality didn’t just walk away because he wanted to be illogical. he was an average student, and he got an average score. an average ( or below average, depending on who got asked ) university admitted him to their okay musical theater program. and even as ruwon studied, and took his classes, made friends and auditioned for school productions, it all felt so pointless. foreshadowed regret. where was he going to go once he got his degree? a worthwhile piece of paper in a sea of kids who could all sing, who were all talented?

reality isn’t a fairy tale, but every once in a while people get a little lucky. after a school production his first year, he was seen and pulled by a talent scout at msg. a coincidence, their niece was in the orchestra performing the same day. they were looking for a vocalist, and ruwon had an alright enough look, so they gave him a card and told him to stop by on the audition date msg was hosting soon. the card got him through the door and granted him a little more attention than some of the others packed into the room with him. and even sitting there, in an uncomfortable plastic chair, ruwon felt like a fraud. he’d gone only because he’d realized he was an idiot. that he should’ve listened to his mother all along. thought that maybe if the gods shined down upon him he could use it as his opportunity to climb out of the hole he’d dug himself into.

the god must have been someone nonsensical, with an enjoyment of black humor. ruwon got into the company. he was stronger vocally than most of the other boys he trained with. maybe not surprising, since msg leaned toward dance and performance. he lagged behind them all massively in those two very areas. he put his school on deferral, his mother sighed some more, stared at him sadly over plates of food at dinner before he was eventually moved into trainee dorms. ruwon treated it like school, because that’s what he’d turned it into in his mind. he still wanted to be in musical theater, this was just a different rig to climb to get there. so he tried. he stayed late in an attempt to learn dances that didn’t come very naturally to him. he sat through lessons on how to look properly into a camera, or answer questions on variety. when he was selected for the final lineup of indigo, it felt surreal. he was added for his vocals, he wasn’t an all rounder and he didn’t personify msg’s style. but he could sing pretty damn well. that was supposed to be his big break. but it wasn’t.

MUSICAL NUMBERS

ACT 1

FACE. it’s their debut. it hurts ruwon’s ears. he hates it in the same way some of the others seem to love it – with a passion. it sounds like two songs fused together forcibly, and he’s not even sure why they’ve decided to add him to the group if they’re just layering auto-tune over his voice anyway. but he accepts it, he knew what he was getting into. he accepts his newfound image, and his role on variety shows. he does his best to pull attention for the group. he’s never been shy. and he wants this. maybe not in the same way as some of his group mates, but he wants it to work out. it’s a two-tiered plan. indigo succeeds, and then ruwon can ask about doing what he wants to. but the song doesn’t garner a whole lot of acclaim or attention. they scrape together the beginnings of a fanbase, some fallouts from the previous boy group msg housed, and some from their subpar showings. but it’s not always instant success, and msg is a fairly popular company. they just need to keep a positive face.

ACTION. this one, somehow, manages to do even worse. it’s both more all over the place and boring, which manages to shock critics for all the wrong reasons. their fanbase doesn’t grow exponentially. their song doesn’t chart. they get invited to even less variety shows than last time. ruwon acts out and makes a fool of himself whenever a camera is pointed at him out of desperation that someone will find him funny, that the group will get a call-back. whenever his mom calls, she sighs into the receiver. despite the static, he can hear the disappointment and judgement. he has no way of explaining that getting painted up in sparkles just to be ignored by pre-teens is in any way a good idea. he gets quieter, when the cameras are off. when the door closes in his shared room. he gets permission from the company to go back and continue his degree.

BEEP BEEP. does anyone even know they made a comeback? even when msg gets around to buying them a promotional pann, it’s always just spammed with who??? and it seems pointless. he still has debt. probably way more than he would’ve accrued if he just stayed in university. he’s a giant mistake of a boy, and he wonders at night how many more mistakes he’ll continue to make. if he’s just going around punching holes in his own godforsaken life, busy calling it interior decorating before he realizes years later he’s just ripping himself apart. he doesn’t sleep well. he focuses on school work, and people don’t even recognize him in the lecture halls. he goes out and auditions on his own for a role in a musical. his guidance counselor passes along the information, figures he might have a chance even if he isn’t a top star, sub-par name value if they squint. he manages to get an alternate role. it should make him happy. but ruwon’s now drowning in debt and frustrated with himself. his choices. he is a little happy though, when that curtain falls.

OVERCOME. it’s at this point that even the company refers to them as a failure. not to their faces. but ruwon hears about it. msg’s failed group. which just means ruwon the failure, doesn’t it? there’s a whole identity crisis that comes with it, but ruwon takes the opportunity of the company ignoring him to finish up his degree. he auditions for more musicals and starts to get more roles. he decides he doesn’t mind so much that indigo’s not doing great. he doesn’t have to put up with their songs, doesn’t have to spend too many hours learning dances, or coming up with new and stupid ways to start shouting on variety shows. he owes msg too much money, and they take cuts from his paychecks. but he has a place to live. he’s performing, doing the job he’d sought out to do. he’s not comfortable, but he’s complacent.

ACT 2

DEJA VU. re.group happened. it was one of those last ditch efforts before msg was planning to throw them overboard like a dead carp. for some reason, re.group got really popular. insanely popular. people knew their names. msg tried a different approach to music, something to match the show and their newfound fans. something that fit ruwon’s own skill set and range a little better. and then they were off, like a firecracker in the dark. ruwon wasn’t ready for it.

WHERE YOU AT. firecrackers eventually fizzle out. so msg crammed in another comeback soon after the last, to make the most money off of their success before it died down. ruwon wasn’t used to the pacing, and was suddenly presented with the expectation to do all of the things he hadn’t even enjoyed that much. his image had to be tweaked, parts disregarded. a group rebranded in an attempt to keep this spark stoked. ruwon didn’t think any amount of magic could turn it into a fire.

HELP ME. this is where the exhaustion starts setting in. ruwon had never been overworked quite like this. reject groups don’t get pushed onto so many shows, into so many photoshoots, with so many performances and talks of concerts. when he falls into bed, he aches. there’s a melancholy that grows, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it because he doesn’t know why it’s there. despite the group’s turnaround, despite how he doesn’t even mind their music, despite how he’s able to still pursue his passions, it’s still completely different from the life he’d decided was alright. was his own. there’s more attention, and the expectations stack higher. ruwon feels like a fraud, an imposter wearing perfectly printed skin.

BEAUTIFUL PAIN. the new year rolls around and indigo’s popularity snowballs. msg is delighted, and happy enough to push the new angle of their music if it means money, even if it’s a little out of the box for msg’s signature sound. ruwon tries to get more accustomed to the fame. to the fans. to the new dynamic of their group. ruwon tries to better balance his time, and tries not to get so frustrated with himself when it still takes him twice, sometimes three times as long to nail down the same choreography as his group mates. he starts acting like a wise ass on tv. a new brand of loud, like it will somehow offset the reclusive way he shuts down when he’s finally allowed to sit by himself at home.

IT’S OKAY. his mother doesn’t sigh when she calls him anymore. it should count as a victory. there’s still debt, but he knows indigo is pulling in decent money now. ruwon wants to focus more on himself, on his musicals. but the group is still shaky-legged. they have public appeal, and a bigger fandom than before, but it’s not otherworldly. they’re no atlas, no olympus. they could be swallowed by that pit of anonymity once more, if they’re not too careful.

REMEMBER THAT. his father does sigh when ruwon picks up the phone. it’s long suffering and sounds like bronchial pain. i didn’t want to leave you. but you mother. you mother. you were in a bad spot too, ruwon. you understand, right? ruwon does understand. he hates him, but he still gives him that money he asks for. like tithings at a church, paying for forgiveness you’re not even sure exists.

WAY BACK HOME. a new year. again. tired sighs. uncomfortable silence. suppressed thoughts and desires, bending at the whim of others. a reaction to please them. he smiles too much, until his cheeks ache. he laughs, louder. until he can’t hear himself think. this is his job. until the curtain falls.

#id.bio #id.byun baekhyun #id.msg #id.indigo #id.milkclub

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON MAYDAY’S LEAD VOCAL ONG JIMIN...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Angel CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 19 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 15 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: n/a

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S):  princess jiminie, dumpling, wingless angel INSPIRATION: she fell in love with the idea of being an idol after watching jinx’s comeback stage for hush, she was already a trainee at that point but it made her realize that it was her dream to be on the stage.

SPECIAL TALENTS:

flexibility

good at imitating emoticon facial expressions

can hold a single note for 30 seconds

NOTABLE FACTS:

graduated from SOPA in 2017

her favorite flavor combination is mint and chocolate.

before debut, other trainees would call her auntie or eomma because she had a habit of making sure that everyone had eaten and washed up before bed.

she loves cats but has only ever had dogs growing up.

angel participated in and won her first local singing competition when she was eleven years old.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

primarily, jimin has a  desire to break into the public eye by putting herself out there and getting herself seen. as it stands, her goal for the short term is to try her hand at variety and book a few CFs to see if it’s something she’d be interested in pursuing as her career develops as a rookie in the industry. if all works out, she’d like to try her hand at hosting on music shows to familiarize the idol audience with her face and her personality as she grows her image and works toward her ultimate goal of putting out solo work. it’s all about appearances.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

long-term, her goal is to make a living off of her natural born talents - enough that she can live comfortably and provide for her mother and brother back home. in some ways, her drive for success is driven by an underlying spite towards her father’s lack of faith in his children amounting to much of anything, so if things go according to plan, he won’t be able to turn on the television without seeing his daughter’s face. she plans on honing her skills as a singer, as a performer, and becoming someone that lasts beyond the fleeting longevity of an idol group. as happy as she is being a member of mayday, she plans on making a name for herself, wants ong jimin - angel, to be someone that’s instantly recognizable in terms of face, ability, and charms. she admires the likes of lee hyori and her ability to thrive as the #1 korean entertainer, but would ultimately be happy being a household name through the likes of a solo career and intends on using her foot in the door in other avenues as a way to build a reputation strong enough to get her there.

IDOL IMAGE

when jimin was a little girl, her mother developed the habit of calling her her little angel because she was generous and kindhearted in a way that was rare for this world. the older she got, the more that affect declined and by the time she’d hit puberty, jimin was a more reserved and collected version of her younger self. she’d had to grow up quickly, miss out on the freedom of childhood and the luxury of living without stress or responsibility. back then, she’d called it doing what she had to do to keep food on the table, but looking back on it now, jimin wishes she’d had the opportunity to live a little more before she signed her life away. nothing about growing up had been fair but she considers that aspect of her childhood a part of what’s made her so strong today. jimin is a fighter in every aspect of the word: resilient and capable, strong and unaffected when the situation calls for it. strong, above all else.

she’s an easy image to construct - poised and lovely, with an air of impossibility, of mystery that could bring the strongest man to his knees. they frame her as the girly type, the kind of girl you’d want to marry - the ideal. she’s sweet and demure but fun and sexy when it matters, in a classy way - never trashy like the girls that get slighted in the media for being too much of a good thing. within the group, she’s the caring and maternal type, the one that cutely checks in on her members’ health and makes sure that dinner’s made in the dorms. she’s intelligent but vague, something airy and house-wifey about her that makes her desirable but not intimidating, easy to swallow for someone who can’t handle a girl who knows too much. they want her to play the role of the flirty and unattainable, a heart attack in heels and cute clothing. small and cute and beautiful, almost fairy-like in affect without falling into the trap of blending in.

an angel.

IDOL HISTORY

TW: ableism, child exploitation

from the day jimin is born things are different for her. she’s the youngest of two, the baby sister to an older brother who her mother adores. jinsung, five years her senior, is disabled - “defective” in the words of her father - due to a genetic disorder that had rendered him dependent and nonverbal, so from the moment she’s able, jimin plays a role in taking care of both her brother and herself. she helps him tie his shoes in the morning, brushes his hair and his teeth and makes sure he’s fed before she does the same for herself. it isn’t something she resents - at least not in the beginning, it’s all that she knows. she’s okay with it, happy to help the brother she loves so much live an easier life. to this day, some of her fondest memories are of her singing lullabies to her brother by his bedside and the two of them fumbling through the words of children’s books together before it’s time for bed.

the only person who seemed to have a problem with the arrangement was her father and, in some ways, jimin could hardly blame him. he’s a metalworker, a working class man in a society that thrives on the making and movement of money, and it’s hardly cheap to pay for the medication and machinery that jinsung needs to survive. it doesn’t help that jimin’s mother’s job is only part time due to the hours she needs to invest in taking care of their son and now their young daughter. there are too many mouths to feed and, truthfully, not enough to go around. so, one day he leaves- in the middle of the night, without so much as a goodbye, but he’s gracious enough to leave behind enough for them to buy groceries for the week, the keys to his rusted pick-up truck that he’d spent the better part of a year trying to restore.

jimin had been nine at the time and her mother, well, she’d been desperate.

it doesn’t take long for her mother to start taking jimin to open casting calls for child performers, signing her up for local competitions with cash prizes with hopes that she’ll walk away with enough to float them through to the next month. it’s not too bad, she reasons, because jimin likes to sing, she enjoysbeing in the spotlight, but above all her helpful nature won’t let her complain about it, because she hates the idea of letting anyone down more than anything. it’s a bitter truth, the knowledge that this is the way things have to be because her mom can’t take on any extra hours without having to pay someone to help care for jinsung as well. it’d be a money sink. she’s too young for this, but. she persists.

she’s lucky when she lands a small commercial role at the bright age of ten and even luckier when she wins a local singing competition at age eleven. before long it seems like jimin has taken on the role of breadwinner, as young as she is, keeping her family fed and healthy while juggling school and childhood friendships as best as she can. there’s little time for play when there’s singing to be done, when she could learn a little dancing for free from the older girls in the neighborhood who practice choreography from groups like STAT1C and Jubilee - irony’s her favorite to memorize. the next four years of her life are spent improving until she’s a force to be reckoned with.

at age fourteen, she goes into msg’s singing competition with the hopes that there’s an immediate cash payout for runner up that would help with the bills back home, but when she wins, the stakes are upped into changing her family’s way of living altogether. she’s part surprised and half completely expecting it. she could cry. god, she deserves this.

 she doesn’t even have to beg when it comes time for her mother to sign the contract.

training to become an idol really starts out as a means to an end and it really feels that way for a long time, her daily schedule of taking the bus and the train to get to the msg company building, spending her every waking moment that wasn’t being spent doing school work or other side jobs to endure evaluations and diet suggestions (read: demands) so that she could be what they were looking for, and then trudging home in the dead of night hoping that she’d be picked. eventually she is, she watches CHERRYBOMB! thrive, watches the debut of girl groups in other companies and nearly loses her drive but then - she’s chosen. they call them something stupid that she’s since forgotten but she vividly remembers the feeling of this longshot becoming a reality.

they become mayday.

fast forward to debut and she still can’t believe it, floats on cloud nine and shakes hands with all the stars she can hardly believe are real. it’s not like she thought it would be, becoming a somebody, even if she’s only one somebody in a group of five. she doesn’t linger in it, though, because this is when the work truly begins. the first few months feel like a blur of music show performances and introductions, of vlive specials and instagram lives, but she quickly gets the hang of it. she likes this, having eyes on her, she gets good at selling the fantasy to those who’ll watch. she feels it the most when her birthday comes and goes and there’s a hashtag in her honor.

on camera, she’s angel. she lets jimin worry about the other stuff, the money and the rehearsals and the soundchecks and the recordings and the practice and the aches in the balls of her feet and the demanding schedules. she lets jimin think about home. angel’s got plans.

her time as an idol so far has given her a taste of what could be but she knows better than to get too greedy - not yet, anyway. even with msg’s restrictions, she feels freer, younger than she ever has, learns to harden her exterior into something impenetrable because it’s what the people want. the people want perfect and unattainable and angel wants to be a star, hopes the pull of success will quiet the phantom puffs of hot air on the back of her neck when she remembers what this is for, hopes it quiets the pinch of guilt she feels when she swallows it down and ignores her mother’s calls when life gets to be too much.

it feels good to be selfish.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.mayday #id.roh jisun

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON FIX8′S LEAD DANCE, LEAD VOCAL ERIN YOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: N/A TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): Haejin (Korean name, given to her by her paternal grandmother but rarely used by anyone but her family members in Korea), Vitamin E (by fellow trainees, because she’s known for boosting people up even when they feel down). INSPIRATION: Growing up, Erin knew about and liked kpop but she wasn’t particularly interested in it. She was a casual fan, knowing some groups by name but not being able to name members. That changed when she was scouted by Singularity and she found HER.oine. She was inspired by their girl crush concept and admired how powerful they were when performing. Erin wanted to be able to do the same. She wants to be able to capture an audience and make them feel good and happy SPECIAL TALENTS:

comedic dance covers - erin can and will cover any dance she’s asked of but it will rarely be the polished version audiences are used to. instead, erin will do a funny rendition with exaggerated expressions and movements that usually causes viewers to crack up.

heel juggling - erin played soccer competitively from the ages of six to seventeen. during that time, she learned many tricks with the soccer ball. her favorite of these is heel juggling: bouncing the ball back and forth on her heels and the backs of her legs.

flexibility - naturally very flexible,  erin has practiced and stretched over the years in order to fold herself into impressive positions. she can even touch her toes to her chin from behind.

NOTABLE FACTS:

Erin is a former Singularity trainee. She auditioned for all five major companies after Singularity’s fall.

She’s rarely seen with them as she almost always wears contacts, but Erin has glasses. She’s very nearsighted and has trouble seeing without corrective lenses.

Erin was known at her all-girl middle and high schools for taking on male roles in school productions. She never “passed” for male particularly convincingly but she played each role with enthusiasm.

Erin a particularly close bond with two of her cousins — they helped the most with her adjustment to living in Korea and she considers them the closest thing to sisters she’s ever had. She spends as much time with them as she possibly can, particularly after the end of Singularity.

While her Korean has improved significantly since becoming a trainee, there are (not so infrequent) times she still struggles.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

Within the next few months, all Erin really wants is to find her footing at Koala.T. She was at Singularity for over two years. It became her home away from home and it all came crumbling down. Koala.T is an entirely different beast and Erin is finding it difficult to keep up with the new, more structured culture.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

Erin’s main goal, long term is to debut. She’s worked so hard for years; she wants to finally be able to perform for audiences bigger than a trainee group or evaluating coaches. Debuting would give Erin the attention and validation she craves. After that, Erin would like to move into acting, at least partially. She was a theater kid in high school and she misses being able to take on new roles.

IDOL IMAGE

If Singularity had a plan for Erin, it was never particularly clear to her. In the end, it was probably for the best. At least she doesn’t have to unlearn an image along with everything else. Koala.T is free to mold her to whatever they want or need. Erin is flexible — both metaphorically and literally. She’s more than willing to do whatever is asked of her so long as she gets to keep her dream of being an idol alive.

Koala.T had the concept of Fix8 in mind when they accepted Erin as a trainee. The idea of an idol group created for twitter buzz and trending topics, all free publicity, was ruminating in the minds of the executives when Erin walked into her first audition. She performed, if imperfectly, with complete enthusiasm. Her bright personality and total lack of shame match their plans for the girl group perfectly. Not to mention the international appeal she would most definitely have as an English speaker. Sure, they would have to smooth out the edges Singularity very much left intact — give her media training, fix her Korean, make her performances more consistent — but Koala.T viewed Erin as a diamond in the rough. 

Erin’s talented is admittedly lacking in some areas. Her singing, while interesting in tone, can be pitchy and despite the effort she puts into every performance, her dancing is messy and imprecise. Still, but your eye can’t help but be drawn to Erin when she performs. She has energy, charisma, stage presence, things no amount of training can teach.

Koala.T plans to highlight Erin’s positive points when they finally debut Fix8. A former footballer, Erin will take on the role of sporty, energetic mood maker. The popular captain of the soccer team type that pushes everyone to do their best and is admired by girls and boys alike. Hardworking but not uptight. Someone fun and not so proud that she’s unwilling to “tarnish” her imagine by doing something ridiculous for a laugh. The kind of person you desperately want to be friends with, the kind that would welcome anyone with a bright smile. Approachable, but ultimately far out of reach.

That’s the kind of image that requires time and investment. Erin went underutilized at Singularity, but Koala.T isn’t wasting any time. They were quick to sign her up for Mickey’s Clubhouse. On a show like that, they can get Erin use to performing with time constraints. low budgets and little preparation as well as subtly introduce the version they hope to include in Fix8 to the public. This, along with intensive training from Koala.T employees, executives hope, will make up for lost time. They are determined to turn Erin into a trainee worthy of Fix8′s debut in record time.

IDOL HISTORY

If there was ever a textbook case of assimilation, it would be Harry and Sarah Yoo. Sarah was born in Ohio grew up in San Francisco and went to school in Los Angeles. She was American through and through. Harry, for his part, was born in Daegu. He didn’t stay there for long. Before his third birthday, his family immigrated and settled in Seattle. He may not have known English when he started school, but Harry picked it up quickly and acted just the same as all of his classmates. When the time came for college, he decided on UCLA. This was where he met Sarah.

In many of the same pre-med courses, Harry and Sarah initially showed no interest in each other. Neither appreciated mutual friends trying to set them up because they had “so much in common”. They bonded over their mutual disdain for the idea and became friends. Shortly before their time at UCLA was over, Harry confessed that he’d fallen in love with Sarah. He’d understand, he said, if she didn’t feel the same way, but he had to tell her. He couldn’t leave school without her knowing. Faced with this new knowledge, Sarah made a confession of her own: she loved him, too.

They chose different medical schools, but Harry and Sarah maintained a long-distance relationship. The couple endured years of late-night phone calls, memorized timezone differences and expensive flights. When they finally settled down, Harry and Sarah chose to live in Los Angeles, where they met. They raised three children there. First two boys in rapid succession, then, eight years after the second boy, a girl: Erin.

When their boys were young, Harry and Sarah made sure to speak to them in Korean as much as English. As Americanized as they were, the Yoos wanted to make sure that their children could communicate with their grandparents and family members still in Korea. By the time Erin came along, though, both boys were in elementary school and heavily favored English. It was just easier for everyone to speak English all of the time. Erin never achieved the fluency of her brothers or parents. Erin rarely, if ever spoke Korean growing up. If she did, it was broken and stilted, though she more or less understood what was being said to her thanks to her grandparents’ continued favoritism toward their native tongue. Everyone she spoke to on a regular basis knew English anyway, so it didn’t seem like such a big deal. Her parents, her brothers, they could always translate for her if she somehow ended up in a situation where Korean was necessary.

Growing up in LA, it rarely was. The Yoos, with their doctor salaries, could afford to send their children to  private schools. Erin attended an exclusive all-girls’ school, filled with the daughters of rich executives. The Yoos were well off but not quite as much so as Erin’s classmates. They could pay the tuition but Erin didn’t have the latest and the greatest of everything, often inheriting old hand-me-downs from her brothers or cousins. It never seemed to bother Erin. Her jovial, boisterous personality won her many friends. She never felt like she was missing out.

In school, Erin was known and the quintessential class clown, always making her friends and classmates laugh. Her teachers often praised her creativity and effort while in the next breath lamenting her poor behavior and inability to control herself. Erin couldn’t help it. There was so much to see and do, so many thoughts bursting from her head. There were just so many opportunities to make people laugh, to make them happy.

Erin was equal parts curious and adventurous. Her up for anything nature meant she joined every school club at least once, only staying for longer than a few weeks if the activity managed to hold her attention. The two constant activities in her life were soccer and theater. Soccer gave Erin a place to channel all her energy. She was a popular member of the team, always lightening practices and boosting everyones mood. Theater on the other hand let Erin use all of her creativity in a constructive way. Comedic roles were her bread and butter. Erin never failed to make an audience laugh. Erin’s time at school was happy. Like her parents and brothers before her, Erin was just a normal American kid.

The summer before her senior year, Erin’s family took an extended trip to visit family in Korea. Erin had never been herself, though her older brothers had before she was born. She was excited. It would be one big adventure. Sure, she didn’t speak the language, (at least not well,) but most of her relatives spoke at least a little English. She’d manage.

Manage she did. Though her Korean vocabulary was small, she more than made up for it with her personality. Erin quickly made friends with the cousins she had around her age. They talked about normal teenage girl things, clothes, music and introduced Erin to a korean dramas she binged night after night. Erin was enjoying her stay in Korea. A couple weeks after her arrival, Erin’s cousins took her out shopping. During the trip, they had an encounter that changed the course of Erin’s life. The trio was stopped by a woman who spoke excitedly. Her words were too quick for Erin to do much more than catch the odd familiar phrase so she just smiled and nodded. Her cousins tugged at her arms but Erin accepted a piece of paper from the woman before being pulled away.

The paper was some sort of flyer, Erin could tell that much, but she could barely speak Korean, much less read it. She handed it to one of her cousins to read. The girls shared a meaningful glance before trying their best to explain to what happened. It didn’t all translate perfectly but eventually Erin got the gist. The woman was a scout for some obscure kpop company, offering Erin a spot in an audition. Or, she said she was. Erin’s cousins were convinced she was a scammer. Erin was less convinced. The three of them went home and Erin immediately googled the company’s name: Singularity.

The results were, at best, mixed. With the company’s relative youth and having only one debuted group, Erin understood why her cousins didn’t trust the scout. Still Erin liked what she saw with HER.oine. She thought their songs were catchy and music videos fun. Erin decided to give it a shot. What was the worst that could happen? At the very least she’d get a fun story out of it.

Erin convinced her cousins to take her to the audition. They were still reluctant to trust the opportunity but Erin had a way of being very persuasive. When they arrived, Erin was pleased to see that the whole thing seemed legitimate. It was a real company, with real representatives auditioning lots of other people. Her cousins became cautiously optimistic, gossiping with Erin about the idols signed to Singularity while they waited. After some time, it was Erin’s turn. She performed a song from her last play before the end of the school year. As far as Erin could tell, the feedback seemed positive and, she thought at least, they said they’d contact her soon. A few days later they did. Erin had passed her audition, they said. They wanted to sign her up as a Singularity trainee.

For her part, Erin was ecstatic. How could would it be to be a kpop idol? It was an amazing opportunity. She didn’t think of the reality, the logistics of it all. Her parents did.

“You have to finish school, Erin,” her father said.

“You barely understand Korean,” her mother added.

Erin had a retort for every objection they came up with. There were schools in Korea. She knew some Korean, she could learn more. Her parents always wanted her to get more in touch with her Korean culture. What better way than living in Korea, going to school there and becoming part of Korea’s most famous media export? Erin campaigned extensively. She wore her parents down; they’d let her stay in Korea. She was going to be a Singularity trainee.

Erin moved in with her paternal grandmother who moved back to Korea after the death of her husband when Erin was small. She would be allowed to train under Singularity provided she followed all of her grandmother’s rules and finished high school. The transition was less smooth than Erin expected. Her grandmother’s style of parenting was very different from her busy parents’ hands off approach. The language barrier didn’t help matters. Erin’s cousins helped as much as they could, but Erin struggled. She got to the point where she could read well enough but she had great difficulty writing neat Korean characters and she was nowhere near fluent by the time she started at her new school. She came in the middle of the last year for many of her classmates and had a hard time communicating. No amount of personality made up for that. School in Korea was nothing like it had been in the states. Erin’s grades were dismal. She even failed a class for the first time in her life. She would eventually graduate, though a year later than expected. But she was done and she could finally focus all of her attention on what had been the one bright spot in her new life in Korea: Singularity.

Erin put everything she had into her training. She wouldn’t waste the opportunity. It was the whole reason she was in Korea in the first place. And at least she could use what she already knew there. Dance practice? Well, that was like soccer practice, but with slightly less running and more or less the same level of kicking. Singing? Theater, no problem. Sure, Erin had trouble remembering honorifics initially but she got there eventually. At the same time she was floundering at school, Erin was excelling at Singularity. By the time 2018 rolled around, Erin had been there over two years and the future never seemed brighter.

And then it all came crashing down.

She never saw it coming. She couldn’t imagine, couldn’t fathom Singularity’s fall from grace. It was a constant in her life. The people there, her teachers and fellow trainees, they kept her going when she felt like throwing in the towel and taking the next flight home to LA. When she lost that, Erin felt like she lost everything. Everything she worked so hard for, everything she dreamed of. It was all gone in the blink of an eye.

This sense of devastation was not shared by Erin’s parents. They tried, somewhat, to hide it, but they were pleased. Erin had done her little experiment and now she could come home, take a few community college courses to make up for the embarrassing Korean portion of her transcripts and enroll in a real university. She could finally start doing something with her life.

She was doing something with her life, Erin insisted. Something she really, really liked. She wasn’t going to give up on it, not like that. Desperate to get back what she lost, Erin auditioned for any and every idol company she could find. She was accepted by only one: Koala.T. Though they did not tell Erin at the time, Koala.T’s executives thought her bright personality would fit in perfectly with their plans for a new girl group.

Erin has only been at Koala.T a few months now and she’s still trying to find her footing. The comforting support system she had at Singularity has been scattered by the wind and Erin is left to figure everything out  on her own. It’s hard, but she can’t give up now. Her parents want her to, before she gets in any deeper and loses even more time. Before she gets hurt by this pipe dream again. Erin just can’t do it. She’s spent nearly three years working for something, falling in love with the idea of being an idol. It would hurt too much to give up now.

#id.bio #id.trainee #id.fix8 #id.msg #id.kim dahyun

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN DANCE, LEAD VOCAL BAEK SUNWOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 16 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 14 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Choreography

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): simon - his english name, the fans use it but he actually dislikes it INSPIRATION: loved to perform and wanted to pursue dance as a career, thought he’d have a better chance at making it in south korea than in canada SPECIAL TALENTS:

speaks fluent french and english

freestyle dance

abacus calculation/mental math

NOTABLE FACTS:

flexible - can hold his hands behind his back and step over them

has a brother back in canada

can make his eyebrows dance

is ambidextrous

used to play goalie on his school soccer team

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

sunwoo needs a creative outlet, one that indigo’s current musical direction won’t stifle. choreography is a good one, but he’s still on the lookout for one - starting with acting. he’s terrified that if he doesn’t find something he’s going to hit another slump, making this an urgent, short-term goal.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

further down the line, sunwoo wants to establish himself as a performer and a choreographer. indigo is popular now, but as they grow older as a group at some point they’ll have fewer comebacks and will need other activities to fill their time. sunwoo wants to get recognized by msg entertainment as someone who can choreograph other group’s songs. if and when he leaves the company, he’d like to open a dance studio, but he’ll have to have a strong enough reputation as a dancer and network in the industry to ensure its success.

IDOL IMAGE

with his doe eyes, sweet smile, and young age at debut, msg quickly assigned sunwoo an endearing, boy-next-door image. this stands in contrast with his onstage charisma as a main dancer and particularly with indigo’s original, rougher concept. the contrasting “onstage” and “offstage (but still on camera)” personas meant that from early on sunwoo was noted for his versatility. he also retained a slight french canadian accent in his korean, which made him unique and strange enough that he still gets equally teased and fawned over for it.

since the end of re᛫group, msg has focused on emphasizing the things that the public had noticed about him during the show: his work ethic, his optimism, his generosity, his choreography. that’s all fine and well, except that it’s exhausting. since he was so young at debut, he wasn’t expected to use any of his energy on anyone else in the group - as long as he kept up and did his part, that was enough. this new image meant he had to juggle taking care of himself and others, at least in front of the public. it was a natural part of his personality that came out on the show, but not to this extreme. it may be exhausting to have to keep this facade up but it worked to get him through more of re᛫group than he would have otherwise, and it’s successfully kept the new fans on board with him even after he got off the show.

his biggest issue as a performer is that his condition is too easily affected by public reception. when he and indigo are being praised and loved, he’s filled with a unique buzz and energy, achieving a kind of onstage charisma in his performance that can’t be replicated. when he and indigo receive criticism or, worst of all, during their slump, he hits a block. this is the case for pretty much anyone, but sunwoo’s two poles are too extreme. he’s certainly come out of the crash he had during indigo’s rougher years, though, and as indigo maintains a spot near the top he’s been able to stay motivated and keep his quality up. but since the slump he’s been overly sensitive to any fluctuations in indigo’s success, which has made the fluctuations between his good days and his bad ones more dramatic.

IDOL HISTORY

baek sunwoo was born in montreal, canada on an early march morning, rain drizzling outside turning the top layer of the snow still on the ground into slush. he and his brother were raised in a modest two-storey house by their accountant parents who continued to emphasize their korean heritage by speaking korean at home, eating korean food, and attending korean language school on saturday mornings. he took on the canada-friendly name of simon outside the home, but never considered it as a replacement for his korean name - just a way to protect his given name from being regularly butchered.

as a young boy he stood with his feet turned inward, a minor issue which his paediatrician assured his parents could be fixed with leg exercises, suggesting dance as an option. four year old simon was signed up for ballet and took to it like a fish to water, falling in love with the endorphins of exercise and the rush of performing. as he grew older he started taking different dance classes - hip hop, jazz, and modern dance were added to his repertoire. at ten he joined a local dance crew and performed at local festivals and competitions. soon he spent five nights a week at the dance studio. at first his parents objected to him putting so much focus on dance rather than school, but as it became clear that he was taking it seriously as a career path they became dedicated to helping him see his goals through.

he always wanted to be a dancer, always wanted to perform. most importantly, he wanted to be famous. he knew he was a good dancer and had potential. but would it be easy to make it as the son of south korean immigrants in the canadian entertainment industry? he tried, for a time. simon auditioned for les grands ballets canadiens and for the national ballet and was rejected from both; he continued to perform with his dance crew, but they never seemed to win any of their competitions. at the end of one of these competitions, though, simon was approached by a man in a suit with a business card, who told him he was “talented” and had “lots of potential” and “just the right look”, and that he should go to toronto to attend international auditions for a company called msg entertainment. simon had never paid close attention to kpop - he’d heard some songs, but couldn’t name members of any group or anything - but after getting rejected from the canadian dance scene, he figured this was the perfect opportunity. he’d surely have a better shot at fame being korean in korea than being korean in canada. after getting his parents to double- and triple-check that this wasn’t a scam, he booked a train ticket to toronto. after a few rounds, he got a contract, ditched the name “simon” altogether, and packed his bags to move in with his cousins in seoul.

adjusting to trainee life meant coming face-to-face with the shortcomings he hadn’t realized he had. he wasn’t used to hearing korean spoken at a quick pace or with regional dialects, so he often frustrated others with requests for them to repeat themselves. he also spoke korean with a weird french canadian accent, which made it difficult for others to understand him in turn, so sunwoo was put into language classes to fix his messy pronunciation. he attended cheongdam high school and suddenly had to adjust to an entirely different school system and learn subjects in a language he previously mostly used around the house. he didn’t have much experience with singing, either, and there was a steep learning curve to catch up with the other trainees. worst of all, after about a year of training, he started to feel burnt out by the experience. as he focused on his progress and his dancing and vocal skills improved, he found himself stuck in a hole - not listening to other music except kpop, distancing himself from the styles he used to enjoy. he identified less and less with what he was putting out as it earned him more and more praise.

when he was placed in the predebut group that became indigo, sunwoo was revived with new energy. msg wanted a flagship boy group out of them, and that meant flashy choreographies, intricate music videos, catchy music. he liked the direction they were going in enough to bring him out of his slump. he was at his peak when they debuted to huge and sudden popularity. he became quickly known for having a young, sweet personality that contrasted with the onstage charisma their songs required.

after face, though, they hit a slippery slope downwards. their first comeback didn’t generate the interest their debut had, and no matter what efforts the members tried to put in to boost their popularity again, indigo was written off as a failure. sunwoo slumped along with the group, struggling to find a way to prove himself to the public and burn off his creative energy. he turned to choreography, initially just pitching ideas to the msg choreographers and eventually working his way up to getting his name noted in the credits. with promotions few and far between, though, there weren’t as many opportunities to show off. msg gave him something else to do by getting him to return to after school club every once in a while following a successful indigo appearance there. it was a chance to show off his english, keep indigo in the minds of the public, and maybe even gather an international audience for the group, if korea wasn’t going to be welcoming. sunwoo wasn’t a natural at variety, but he felt more comfortable being able to entertain in english, and even if he didn’t boost indigo’s popularity during any of his visits, he certainly didn’t do them any harm.

he’d never admit this, but when msg told indigo that they’d be competing on re᛫group, sunwoo was humiliated. the word “disbandment” wasn’t said, but it felt like a last-ditch effort to save their group. without success on the show, their future seemed highly jeopardized. the pressure made sunwoo hit another slump. knowing that the public held his future in his hands made his feet stumble more often, his voice crack more, his stress more difficult to manage. what he had going for him, though, was his image. he was still only eighteen years old, young and fresh faced and armed with the sweet personality msg had instructed him to take on years ago. he was open on the show about his struggles and talked about them in confessionals while keeping an everlasting hopeful tone, leading to a surge of sympathy from viewers. even as he struggled, he was a strong dancer, and was shown helping others learn the choreography, often staying in the dance studio until late going over details one-on-one with those who needed it. he was praised on his choreography for many of his stages, resulting in public acknowledgment of his skill. though he was certainly not at his peak, sunwoo became known for his generosity, his optimism, and his work ethic. it wasn’t enough to save him - he barely made it into the top 20 - but it was enough to help boost indigo back into the public eye and solidify their reputation for their perseverance.

indigo was more popular after re᛫group than they were even when they had had their explosive debut. msg immediately had plans to put together a comeback, and soon enough indigo was back onstage, earning their first music show win and basking in attention they had been starving for. with the pressure of keeping the group together off his back, sunwoo got out of his slump, with fans noting how much his stage presence and charisma had improved since the show. the song they had promoted was softer than what they used to do, not quite what sunwoo would have chosen, but who cares? they were saved. then msg decided to have them release another song, similarly emotional and slow. then another, then another. as a main dancer who had just bounced back from a decline in his skills and self-confidence, sunwoo wanted to do what he loved: to dance. all of indigo’s newer releases were soft and pretty ballads, with choreographies that required little more than a few mic stands, some swaying, and a twirl here and there. his body ached for the pulsating beat it used to dance to. while the group only rose higher and higher with their new sound and aesthetic, he became restless. he was bored.

on his own time, sunwoo has continued to focus on choreography as a means for him to express himself, even if indigo itself has limited opportunities for it. he’s hopeful that they’ll still have a chance to release a dance track again and have some success with it thanks to their new popularity. he’s also started to look to other avenues, dipping his toe into acting by getting himself a role in the idol-focused drama dream high. he’d always wanted to be famous - now he finally, truly is. but that alone isn’t enough if he can’t dance the way he wants to.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.indigo #id.lee minho

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON MAYDAY’S LEAD VOCAL, LEAD DANCE KANG YOONAH...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: N/A TRAINEE SINCE AGE:14 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): 새끼윤아 (saekkiyun-a) –  as in kid yoonah, quite literally. she’s seen in msg hallways since she was very young and people there (from staff to idols) practically saw her growing up which also meant she kind of became the mascot of some of them over the years.

あおい (aoi) – despite yoonah being a common name and easy to pronounce, her parents thought it would be better for her adaptation in a foreign country to have a japanese name INSPIRATION: in part, it happened because she loved singing since young and because her father played a big influence in her choice of career. in the other hand, things just aligned very well at the right moment to her. yoonah was living a moment in which everything ended related to idols. snacks, phones, drinks, food, her friends only talked about that and the radio was always playing the latest hits. it felt overwhelming and exciting. the last push she needed was the vocal competition and since then she never left. SPECIAL TALENTS:

taiko – yoonah spent most of her childhood years living in japan and while she was in school there, she was taught how to play the drums and even performed in some festivals

steady breathing – perhaps due to her many years under training, she developed a very controlled breathing while singing. she can even jump rope while singing a couple of song parts

mimics sounds – she can mimic a couple of sounds like a bubbles popping, some animals, doraimo and even the haegeum.

NOTABLE FACTS:

admission – yoonah became part of MSG because she won a vocal competition sponsored by the company

siblings – she’s the youngest of three and while her older sister is involved with nothing related to the business, her middle brother is a constant presence in yoonah’s life since he’s also/planning to be an idol

language – while growing up, her household was a constant of korean and japanese language mixed. once she moved back to korea, that habit didn’t vanish and sometimes, she let slip some mixed phrases

education – while she attended regular middle schools in japan, yoonah is an alumni from the school of performing arts in seoul

health – yoonah always had a somehow fragile health. besides being nearsighted she also suffers from anemia

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

as many of the other trainees, what she wants the most is to debut. it has been almost seven years since she joined the company and she’s practically craving to leave her status as a trainee and finally became an idol despite her reluctance to pursue this career at first

LONG-TERM GOALS:

she imagines that, once everything settles down and she makes her debut, she’ll be able to move into radio hosting and music production. in the past few years it has become something she wanted to be involved and she’d be absolutely thrilled to follow a more secluded area of the entertainment business

IDOL IMAGE

when yoonah is fourteen, she stumbles her way in something that she, at first, didn’t want to. she’s all pouts and her puff and rosy cheeks accentuate her cute features even more in the lights of the building. ‘so cute’ the receptionist whispers, ‘she’s the one isn’t she? the one who won the competition’ a boy asks.

the first impression is of a lost kid. small steps and bowed head, all shy and unsure. once she finds her way, not much changes. yoonah is still shy and in a corner, not certain what she was supposed to do but the moment she opens her mouth things are different. she sings in a way that shows she’s untrained and childish, it sounds clear though, and her voice is pretty and soothing. she’s just a kid and now there’s a plenty of time until she manages to be perfect for what her company wants her to be.

yoonah is adorable and has a good voice but the cuteness is not the only façade MSG wants and it’s certainly not the only one she can pull off. she grew confident over the years of training, she doesn’t shy away when asked to try something new and she certainly won’t try to hide herself behind her seniors when teased about something.

as years passed by, she started getting the impression that if something different didn’t pop up from her side, then she definitely wouldn’t be able to make it to debut. the bratty but still cute play she keeps on to the entertainment of many (from her company and school and sometimes, when she’s able to visit, her home) became much of her own personality than something she keeps just for the sake of the act.

so far, her plans have been working. MSG still is in good terms with the image she portrays, and they are aware (if she didn’t make it as obvious as she could) that she’d be fine to do whatever fanservice fit for her image — from cringy cute acts to feeding the same-group couple craze.

if yoonah could have one wish regarding this situation, she’d ask her company to not ask her to go to extremes. despite her young appearance, she’s already in her 20’s and even though she’s already this old, she doesn’t seek for a drastic change. she’s hoping that being in their hands for almost seven years also meant they’d know at least this much.

IDOL HISTORY

tw: unhealthy relationship (familiar)

introduction

stars were aligned in the day they both meet. college colleagues in a class that didn’t have anything directly connected with what they were coursing.

she’s aims to become a teacher and he wants to become a singer. just like their shared class, there’s nothing to connect there, but they keep in touch, help each other with the subject, check if they are eating properly and not just skipping it altogether. soon, they are not caring for the other as just a friend from that one class, feelings build and they work their way through school as a couple. break-ups, misunderstandings, joys and achievements.

               verse

things after school are not a fairytale. misook struggles to get her first job since she didn’t have any connections and she’s also a woman trying to get a recognizable role. junghoon also stumbles on his own feet with his career. men are better seen when dressed in a uniform instead of holding a guitar.

they are married now, and they need to find some stable work to finally form their family properly. misook gets a job in an elementary school far from her apartment by an hour which is great, it’s a progress. junghoon, in the other hand, stagnates. he starts getting part time jobs in restaurants and construction sites to get some money to help at home. there’s nothing but a lot of struggle in the beginning but things eventually work the way they should, and they start their life together, husband and wife, hand in hand.

               pre-chorus

minji was born in early 1990’s. she’s pretty and has the features and behavior of a baby princess. hyunwoo was born a couple of years later and he too is someone they can be proud of. finally, yoonah came when spring had just begun to bloom.

the financial situation was nice by the time. misook and junghoon found their stability before deciding to have children, although three was never in their plans at first.

they were supposed to have a comfortable life.

but the crisis hit in their doorstep and they mistakenly opened a gap. she lost her job as a teacher and the business he started to run wasn’t working as well as before. with no other warning the five of them moved to japan where his parents lived. it was rushed and unprepared and they weren’t very certain of what would happen to them in a time like that one. but they went anyways and although not ideal, they were united.

chorus

yoonah is four and she’s attending a school where people don’t speak the same language as she. the same happens when she goes to the supermarket with her mother and any other place they visit. she’s shy and unsure of what to do but her mother is a light and she helps her through it.

she’s the youngest child in their house and she’s the one who lived the least in their home country, so despite her lack of social skills, she easily adapts to the new surroundings. She’s not the girl one would pick for a round of dodgeball but in arts and music class, people definitely see her charm. she’s timid during most of the time, it’s true, she doesn’t necessarily like to be the center of attentions, but her teacher helps her. she gives yoonah her time to work things out, to be in her own comfortable place, this help naturally makes her develop a certain fondness towards music.

she grows up quite sick. her health is not the best, she gets a cold way too easily, her body is frail, and she falls on her own. people are inclined to not hurt her and to not go too hard on her, she won’t do the running exercises or play hide-and-seek, instead she stays indoors, looking out of the window.

as she gets older, her immune system gets stronger, but her reputation still pursues her. she stopped minding that a while ago, preferring to remain in her comfort zone, playing with instruments that were too big for her and ones too complicated to even start learning. some of her friends even tried to invite her to play. with her situation, it could easily be assumed she’d be an outsider, but her classmates warm up to her fast, she’s well-loved and well-cared but she has her own pace.

               bridge

her father still is not happy with the life he has. despite having three great kids and an amazing wife, the fact that he wasn’t able to follow his dream as a musician still haunts him to this day. they heard the stories almost every other week, when they had dinner together, and his frustration was clearly pointed.

yoonah don’t blame him entirely but the moment she started being forced to audition to musical groups and be signed for festivals, the glow that music had slowly started to fade away.

when he heard about entertainment companies sponsoring music competitions, about having young people signed off with their labels if they won, he was thrilled. his children had the opportunity he never had. in the first opportunity, they flew all the way back to south korea for a couple of days and despite used to, yoonah wasn’t familiar with the grandiosity of that event. she froze and couldn’t perform. her father was furious.

the moment followed her for the next couple of months and she wrongly felt guilty for failing him like that. she wanted to become someone he’d be proud and not ashamed of, so she asked her mother to keep an eye if any other opportunity raised, and reluctantly, the woman complied.

               elision

this time, when she flew to her home country with her mother only, she had a certain easiness in her heart, but she still felt pressured. When her mother crouched by her side and told her she should just do whatever she felt she should, yoonah smiled and hugged the woman for her support.

this time the fourteen years old was capable of showing what she supposed to show. she sang and played the giant guitar in a very timid way at first but still strongly certain of every step she should take. people were paying attention to what she did, and that boosted her confidence in a way, because she grew stronger. her part in the competition wasn’t so small or insignificant anymore, she shone. and she won.

this time she was assigned with MSG.

this time, when she went back to japan, her father had a smile so big that didn’t fit in his face.

this time she had reached her goal, but she was still unfulfilled. was this truly what she wanted?

this time, her mother said enough. Enough to crazy ideas, to pushing their children to do things they didn’t want, enough of projecting his dreams on a little girl, enough to everything.

this time they divorced.

outro

they were all back in south korea eventually, but not together anymore. despite doing what she did because of her father, yoonah went along with her training in MSG. she doesn’t know why she kept it up, it wasn’t for lack of support that didn’t give up, since her mother was favorable to make her end things before she even started if that wasn’t what she really wanted.

but then yoonah was reminded of the time when she was back on that stage and how free she felt at that moment, and how she wanted to feel that feeling again and perhaps, she could revive that moment in the future. So, she stayed, warned that she could call an end at any moment.

in the beginning, all was new, naturally, and she thought she wouldn’t be able to adapt. it was, after all, a lot to get used to. a culture that despite being her own, was still unfamiliar, a routine that changed all the time because of practices and school and exams. she persevered.

but her perseverance wasn’t enough. she saw as big groups of her company started to debut, she saw cherry bomb at its early years and looked up to them as if they were goddesses, she trained with the boys from indigo and hoped with all her heart to be chosen as a member of honey. she saw as her friends debuted in 1ferno and she was still there waiting for a chance. what didn’t make her change labels or give up on the idol career was probably the fact she started enjoying the whole thing. she made friends who she cherished and appreciated and seniors who looked out for her, and everything was so familiar and natural that giving a thought to leave that comfortable zone sent a nauseating feeling down to her stomach.

almost seven years later and she still waits for a chance to make it to her debut. sometimes when she’s back in the dorms, when a day was particularly bad or upsetting she wonders if all the luck she had in life was spent in that day when she performed and by a miracle, her charisma (or lack of it) and mild talent made her win the competition that made her sign with MSG. she wonders if she left the company everything would be okay and she’d find another place where she’d be more likely to debut. she absolutely hated herself for not being able to disconnect the people from her future and remain stagnated because that’s how she feels when she sees people who trained with her performing while she’s still there working on dance sequences and voice exercises. she knows she got better and she knows she deserves a chance… she probably ran out of luck.

but she still endures the whole process. she still does what she’s asked and she smiles and tries to enjoy this eternal waiting moment, for as long as they want or for as long as she can take.

#id.bio #id.trainee #id.msg #id.mayday #id.old school #id.choi yewon

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN RAP, LEAD DANCE NAKANO TETSUYA...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 24 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 15 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Choreography

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): tetsu : short and cute, just like himw atermelon boy : gained from his special talent INSPIRATION: he and his friends loved dancing as kids, and he often sang along to songs where he could, but he never really considered it as a potential career – the people on the tv seemed alien and far out of reach. but during an inter-school dance competition in junior high school, he met a fellow contestant who had been scouted by a famous Korean entertainment company, and he began to think that maybe he could make a career out of it. and, well, dancing for a living sounded a lot more appealing than picking watermelons for the rest of his life. SPECIAL TALENTS:

eating a whole watermelon in under five minutes

freestyle dancing (primarily to girl group songs)

aegyo

NOTABLE FACTS:

is originally from Yamagata (there is a much longer story to this, one worn into the soles of his feet and the calluses on his hands that will probably never fade, but it’s a story for another time and place, not his public profile)

was part of the runner-up team in an inter-school dance competition in junior high school, which was also where he started becoming interested in being an idol

he has two sisters, both younger than him

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

Tetsuya wants to branch off beyond the music that IndiGO make. He wants a chance to create his own style and image as a soloist, both as a dancer and as a rapper, but he’s limited by the image that MSG insist on pushing. He hopes to find a way to work within those confines to develop a solo career, although he isn’t especially hopeful that he’ll be successful.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

In the long term, Tetsuya wants to achieve greater creative freedom and less strict image management from the company – or at least a chance to develop an image that he can work with. He’d like to delve more into choreography and become  He wants many things outside the scope of his career, too, but most prominently? He wants to go home.

IDOL IMAGE

A fifteen-year-old boy, alone and drowning in the complexity of this new life he’d chosen. That was what MSG Entertainment saw when Tetsuya arrived in Korea – and they took that image and used it to their advantage, making him into the shy kid next door, the one who was quiet but excelled at variety shows. It wasn’t a hard role for him to play. He’d grown up in the Japanese countryside, more than an hour from the nearest city, and while he was rapidly becoming acquainted with the new language in intense tutoring sessions every week, the concrete jungle of Seoul was strange and intimidating. Surrounded by towering buildings and confident native speakers, he shrank in on himself – unless he was on stage performing, where he could pretend he was in a familiar setting, or variety shows where the other members could do most of the talking and he could chip in occasionally – and show off his dancing. And even though he was now twenty and unable to believe that he’d finally debuted (maybe because it didn’t feel like it), the shy kid image was easy to maintain.

After RE᛫Group and during the company’s rebranding of IndiGO, they decided to change Tetsuya’s image to something more versatile that would allow him to make use of his much more fluent Korean skills and his growing confidence, as well as possibly appealing more to international fans – particularly from Japan – and enabling them to use him as a more engaging variety personality. It wasn’t a drastic change, really, just a switch from shy kid to boy next door – more excitable, more engaging, and a better fit for the twenty-two/twenty-three year-old. It was a successful change, and Tetsuya has become one of the most popular members in Japan. (Sometimes, when he’s homesick, he imagines his family telling everyone who will listen that their son is part of a famous Korean boy group)

This image change came with something that, to Tetsuya, is both a blessing and a curse. More chances to talk, more opportunities to participate actively in discussions during variety shows like Weekly Idol and After School Club, and his first few solo appearances on shows. While this is nice, it has also developed an image of him that doesn’t fit very well with who he wants to be or who he’s becoming. Tetsuya has tried approaching the company about the possibility of a solo debut, but the things he writes about, the experiences he would rap about, just don’t fit his public image. So ironically, while it gives him more freedom, it traps him as well.

IDOL HISTORY

一

31 January 1994. 5:29am. In a farmhouse covered in heavy snow, about an hour and a half from the nearest hospital in Yamagata, a child is born to the Nakano family. The first of three children, the only boy, he and his family have no idea what awaits him. He is named Tetsuya, 徹也, meaning devotion, and his parents swear that they will raise him as best they possibly can.

Tetsuya is homeschooled until he turns six. The nearest preschool is over an hour away, and costs far more than the family can afford, particularly after the poor yield from the harvests over the last few years. The boy is too young to understand these finer details, and he is happy enough to spend each day playing in the garden while his parents and grandparents work. Over the course of several summers he develops a tan that sticks around for years until one long winter and lots of time spent indoors let it fade back to a paler tone, and calluses begin to form on his hands as soon as he is old enough to use a shovel. He has no friends except for his sisters – Mari, who is two years younger than him, and Sayuri, who is only a baby – because the family live alone on their farm in the mountains. His parents worry that he will struggle at school because of this, and Tetsuya plays in the background, oblivious and content.

二

When he goes to school, Tetsuya learns that children are cruel. Because he has no friends yet, because he is from the mountains and speaks with a strong accent, the other children laugh at him. They tease him and make fun of his strong accent, which is a mix of his grandparents’ Kyushu dialect and his parents’ Yamagata one, and mock him when he stumbles over reading in class. But he ignores them, because that’s what his parents told him to do, and because as much as they mock his unusual speech, they themselves mostly speak with strong Yamagata accents.

He catches a school bus with five other students, all of whom live on farms like he does. It’s a surprisingly uncommon occurrence at their school. The six of them become close friends, despite being in different grades, and the other five defend him from the bullies. As they get older, they become five, then four, and then three – Tetsuya and the other two his age, Daiki and Nana. They begin to meet up outside of school, visiting each other during the summer and helping out with harvesting – watermelons at the Nakano farm, cherries at Daiki’s, and apples and pears at Nana’s. A week into the summer holidays between fourth and fifth grade, they come up with an idea. Well, Daiki comes up with the idea while hanging upside-down from one of the cherry trees on his family’s farm, but the other two convince him to keep talking about it. And over the course of several days, the idea blossoms into a plan. A plan to become the best dancers in the country, inspired by a TV show Daiki is an avid fan of. Although they’re far too young to enter any competitions, and those competitions are too far away anyway – to the three ten-year-olds, Tokyo is nothing more than a legend, the place that some of their classmates boast about being able to visit. But maybe it will be more possible in the future. In the meantime, though, there’s no harm in learning how to dance. So the trio spend their days watching re-runs of Daiki’s show, then replicating the dances they see. It’s difficult to get them right, but Nana has a good memory and Tetsuya has a talent for moving exactly how he wants to (which has often made him a formidable asset in school games of soccer or basketball) and Daiki is nothing if not passionate. And between them, they slowly begin to master the dances.

The summer between fifth and sixth grade is spent even more ambitiously – going down to Yamagata City whenever they can and finding people to perform for. Most people are uninterested, busy with their own lives, but some are curious to see what these determined eleven-year-olds can do. They leave suitably impressed, and the trio leave satisfied that they’re getting even better. This repeats as often as they can convince someone to drive them down to the city, which is most days, since Nana’s older brother can drive and their parents don’t always need him to help out on the farm. But before they know it, the school holidays are over and they’re starting sixth grade.

三

At the end of sixth grade, the trio part ways. Nana’s family move to Tokyo – farming is no longer profitable for them, and with her brother in university it’s hard to find the money to keep the farm going. Daiki stays, but his junior high school is at the northern end of Yamagata. Tetsuya goes to a different school, in the busier south of the city. They try to keep in contact, but with the post office so far from home the boys struggle – and the increasing pressure of school doesn’t help. Nana stops writing, whether because she can’t find the time or because she has nothing left to say, and her last letter just ends with I miss you guys. Tetsuya joins his school’s dance club, and quickly makes new friends (although they’ll never be quite as close to his heart as Daiki and Nana, who he misses even to this day). He’s changed, no longer the shy boy with the strange accent – for starters, he’s grown much more confident, but his accent has also become less distinct and more similar to the accents of his classmates. There are more people who live on farms in his new school, but from the other side of the city, so he catches the bus alone. It makes him miss the good old days of elementary school even more, the lengthy discussions the trio used to have on the bus – with the occasional comment from the bus driver.

Tetsuya is selected as one of the students to represent their school in an inter-school dancing competition in his second year of junior high school. He’s told to uphold the school name, then given a pair of reserved seat tickets for the Tsubasa Shinkansen and a Suica card to pay for his travel, as well as the name of the hotel where the students will be staying. Fortunately for the thoroughly bewildered and overwhelmed boy, his closest friend is also on the team and offers to meet him at the station on the appropriate day.

It is only when they actually arrive in Tokyo that Tetsuya realises just how out of his depth he is. His family do not own a television, they do not even have a landline phone – let alone a mobile one – and this high tech city full of people is strange and unfamiliar in all the worst ways. If not for Aiko, he would have been overwhelmed the moment he stepped off the train – but she keeps an iron grip on his arm and steers him through the crowds to the next train. And, miraculously, they make it to the hotel in one piece.

The conversation he and Aiko have in their floor’s common room goes something like this: Tetsuya explains that he’s never been on a train before – hell, he’s never left Yamagata before. His family don’t have technology. They live in a cramped farmhouse that’s starting to fall apart and is only being held together by his grandfather’s persistence and his father’s supply of nails. She stares at him for a good few minutes, then replies with “So the rumours were right. You are poor.” And, well, Tetsuya’s never heard it phrased like that. He’s heard his parents tell Mari she can’t have more toys because “money’s tight”, and his grandparents always complain about how they don’t have the money to hire farm help – but as a kid Tetsuya never realised the significance of all those little comments and all the little things that other kids at school could do that he couldn’t. Now he does. He knows now that the reason he hardly ever gets new school uniforms isn’t just because he grows very slowly (and his growth spurt is basically done and dusted), it’s because they can’t afford to buy uniforms unless they absolutely need to.

But Aiko doesn’t try to make him feel bad about being poor. She takes him out on their second night, after the first round of the dancing competition, and they go shopping. Her family are well-off, largely owing to her father’s successful investment in numerous cherry farms, and she claims that she enjoys spending money on other people and she would never buy anything otherwise. So, guilt at making her pay for everything assuaged, Tetsuya lets himself enjoy it and explore Tokyo with an expert guide.

The next day, the second round, is the first time Tetsuya has danced in front of an audience since those summer holidays before sixth grade. It’s terrifying but exhilarating, and he feels in his element. They progress to the next round, and the team are ecstatic – after a devastating loss in the second round of the competition last year, they have been hoping for an impressive success, and this team promises to succeed.

Before they know it, the only team from a Yamagata school are standing on the stage, ready to perform for the final round, which is between them and two Tokyo schools. Tetsuya, looking out into the crowd to calm his nerves, spots a familiar face in one of the other finalist teams, and dances like his life depends on it. And when all of them are finished and the judges are coming to a final decision, he slips away and goes looking for that familiar face.

It is the first time he has seen Nana in years. It is the first time he has heard Nana in years. But she is different, much like him, and so while they congratulate one another they do not say much more than that – although she tells him that she has been scouted by a Korean entertainment agency. It feels particularly odd, without Daiki there to share the moment with them, and it becomes all the more bittersweet when the winners are announced. Tetsuya wonders whether Daiki’s school even has a dance club, whether he’s joined it. He accepts the silver medal with a smile, and watches as Nana takes the gold trophy on behalf of her school, and thinks he sees their friend in the audience even though he cannot be there.

四

Later that night, in his room, Tetsuya stares at the ceiling and thinks back over his conversation with Nana. Earlier, he was still shaky with nerves from performing and distracted by the noise of the room, but now he remembers one thing most prominently. Her tale of being scouted makes him wonder – could he make a career from dance? He’s never thought this before, always seen it as an enjoyable hobby that could be used to win competitions and nothing beyond that, but the more he thinks about it the more sense it makes. After all, how else did the people they used to watch on TV get where they did?

When he gets back to Yamagata, Tetsuya begins researching. He uses computers in libraries, asks people on the street, and looks for advertisements in newspapers. And slowly, he begins to piece together a plan. It is thorough, careful, almost certain not to fail. For the rest of the year, he practices diligently and teaches himself solo routines when he has the time, learns the lines to the songs they perform. At home, he studies for school and helps out on the farm. He saves up what little pocket money he gets and tells his parents what he is planning. And once his final exams are over, Tetsuya catches a train down to Tokyo and auditions for MSG Entertainment. By nightfall, he is back home, pretending that he wasn’t shaking as he stepped into the audition room, pretending that he might have made it.

He does not brood over whether or not they will accept him. He does not incessantly check the mailbox, no matter how much he wants to. Instead, he throws himself into dance and school and tries not to think about anything beyond graduating.

The letter arrives a week before he finishes junior high school, when Tetsuya has almost given up. He has been accepted as a trainee, and they want him to arrive at their office in Seoul within the next month. He isn’t even sure if they can afford the plane ticket, but his parents insist that it’s no problem – they’ve been saving up since he first told them, and it’s just enough to afford a one-way aeroplane ticket to Korea. So once he finishes school, the family drive down to Tokyo to wave him off. There are many tears involved on everyone’s part, but especially his sisters’. Sayuri especially, whose sobs are almost audible even once he’s past security.

Three and a half hours later, he’s standing in front of the MSG building and wondering what will happen to him.

五

Tetsuya struggles as a trainee. He barely understands the language, though that begins to change through intensive Korean lessons, and it becomes evident to him that no matter how good he is, there will always be someone better. At first, he is insulted by other trainees for his tan skin, but the insults fade with the tan as he spends more and more time inside under the pale lights of the training rooms. While his accent remains strong in Japanese, fixed in place with age, his Korean improves daily and he works hard to make it something they cannot pick on.

There are three moments that stand out the most during Tetsuya’s training. The day that his grandfather passes away and the family buys a landline just so they can call Tetsuya and tell him the news is the first time that he is called into a higher-up’s office, and the worst. He can’t go home for the funeral – his family can’t afford the cost of that on top of the funeral, and the company won’t fund it. So instead he is allowed to Skype his second cousin, one of the few people attending the funeral who owns a phone or laptop. It’s painful, but it’s reality. And he is grateful that they let him do that much, even if he couldn’t go home.

The second moment that stands out is when he is sent to a rap coach instead of a vocal coach like he has been doing for the past year. One year into his training, the company decide that his voice is better-suited to rapping than singing. It hurts, to know that all the progress that he’s made in that time isn’t enough for them, but the coach is encouraging (a rare blessing in these difficult years) and with time he acknowledges that his potential in singing is limited. His vocal range has never been enormous, and his tone of voice and his accent lend themselves far more to rapping. Tetsuya has grown less and less bitter about this over the years, acknowledging that the other members are far better singers, and on occasion he still gets to sing.

The third moment is by far the most significant. The day that he is told for certain that he will be part of IndiGO’s final lineup was a perfectly average day in all respects until he is told that. He goes through his usual routine in the morning, attending dance lessons and taking a quiz in his Korean class, until he is called up to an office around midday. The man sitting behind the desk tells him that he has been chosen to debut in their next boy group, IndiGO, as the main rapper and lead dancer. Tetsuya, who has always felt that his true skill is dancing more than rapping, wonders why they made this decision. Of course he’s not the best at dancing – he never had a proper teacher until he signed with MSG – but it holds a special place in his heart. He dances as if it means the world to him, because it does. But he meets the other members, and he understands why he wasn’t chosen as the main dancer.

六

Training for debut is even harder than his earlier training. It is endless, relentless, and much harsher than anything else he has experienced. Tetsuya grows quiet, dealing with his troubles silently and alone as he works on the choreography for their debut song. He spends hours every night revising vocabulary and practicing translating the lyrics of their songs into Japanese. He does not collapse, not even on the hardest days, because he cannot be weak now. Not when he has made it so far. So he tells himself that it isn’t nearly as bad as spending all day out in the burning sun putting hats on watermelons and weeding vegetable patches, that at least his hands aren’t cracked and torn and callused like his grandmother’s. He’s in no danger of sunburn here, buried six feet underground in a practice room until ungodly hours of the night. These different hardships take a lower physical toll, he reasons – overlooking the mental toll in favour of success. It is easy enough to push aside the dull headaches from sleep deprivation.

七

IndiGO’s debut is met with lukewarm reception, a reaction that quickly fades into disinterest. They have few dedicated fans by their second comeback, and Tetsuya has the least of all. While the image the company crafted for him works well initially, people have grown bored of seeing him silent at the back of the group on television programs. And he grows bored too, with no active role in the group unless they are performing. So he takes up dancing more and more, spending more time in the practice rooms teaching himself other groups’ dances and learning how to freestyle dance. And he gets good at it, good enough that the company takes notice and starts letting him do that on variety shows. It helps, during their worst moments, when he doubts his ability to succeed the most, because he can bury himself in dance and imagine that he is still a naïve ten-year-old dancing with his best friends on a farm in northern Honshu.

When they get sent onto RE᛫Group, Tetsuya is genuinely scared for their future as a group. IndiGO hasn’t been successful, but he had never considered that they might be obsolete now. He does decently on the show, earning votes by shocking the viewers with the contrast between his appearance and his rap. But he is eliminated almost as soon as the competition begins to get genuinely difficult, though whether it is because of his skill level or evil editing he’s not sure. With no promotions to do and no guarantee of anything else in his future, Tetsuya begins to write. He’s not particularly good at lyric writing, but with a decent editor the things he scribbles down during that dark era could become songs – if they fit the image the company wants to push, of course.

八

After RE᛫Group, when they’re still figuring out what to do next, Tetsuya asks MSG to change his image. He’s not the naïve little kid anymore, and he wants a new image to reflect who he is now. The company, who have never seen the scraps of paper buried in Tetsuya’s clothes drawer, decide that an image change might benefit them as well, and they make him the boy next door, more energetic and engaging than the shy foreign kid. It helps a lot, but the image of Tetsuya as a bubbly person is one that limits him incredibly. He can’t be depressed or worried or express his fears and insecurities, because everyone knows that the boy next door is perfect and sweet and cute, not scared and lonely and homesick.

Tetsuya gets to appear on music shows and variety shows now. IndiGO are becoming more successful. His family are spreading the news all across town that the short, Japanese member of IndiGO is their son. His life seems idyllic – or at the very least, better than it’s been in years. But he misses his friends and his family, especially after Aiko came to one of IndiGO’s performances, and his bank account speaks volumes as to how well he’s really doing. What Tetsuya wants more than anything is to go home, but it will be years before he can afford a flight back to Japan. And even though he’s improved significantly in speaking Korean and Seoul is no longer difficult to comprehend, it isn’t home. Home is the tiny watermelon farm in the mountains near Yamagata City, far away from the harsh criticism and ruthless competitiveness of the South Korean idol industry, and it always will be.

#id.bio #id.indigo #id.msg #id.takada kenta

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON 1NFERNO’S MAIN RAP, LEAD VOCAL MOON DAEWON...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Danny CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 14 COMPANY: MSG Entertainment SECONDARY SKILL: n/a

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): Dan (mostly only called this by his dad), Daewonie, D-Day (dumb rap nickname he made up when he was twelve, he’s really embarrassed by it), Wonwon (by fans and teasingly by other members), Memewon (called this by fans because his expressions easily translate into memes) INSPIRATION: Danny wanted to become an idol because he wanted the world to hear his music. He wanted people to hear what he had to say, to understand the emotional struggles he’d been though. Music and especially rap were very important outlets in his life. Danny wanted to reach younger kids with music and encourage them to speak to their experiences with music as well. SPECIAL TALENTS:

freestyle rap - Danny is known for his ability to extemporaneously create raps, often humorous in nature about his fellow group members or variety show cast members. This occasionally extends to fans during vlives, instagram lives or fansigns.

group closeness - Danny can guess which 1nferno group member is in front of him, with his eyes closed, by touch alone.

language skills - In addition to being fluent in both Korean and English, Danny is conversational in both Mandarin and Japanese due a desire to communicate with the group’s international fans. He often pulls this out to converse with foreign variety show guests, impressing hosts and audiences alike.

NOTABLE FACTS:

Danny graduated from the School of Performing Arts Seoul in February 2018. He took fewer and fewer classes each year due to 1nferno’s intense schedules, leading to his late graduation. He is not currently enrolled in any university, much to his father’s displeasure.

In late 2017, Danny was a recurring guest host of After School Club.

In his free time (what little of it he has) Danny likes to play video games. This includes, but is not limited to, League of Legends, Fortnite and Overwatch. When their schedules match, he plays in live streams with a group of other idols.

Danny has three siblings: Nina (age 18),  Olivia (age 16), and Alex (age 11). He tries to spend time with them whenever he can but most of their communication is on social media or through sms.

Danny has an encyclopedic knowledge of memes and will not hesitate to reference them in any situation.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

His short term goal, as it always is, is to make it through to the next comeback. 1nferno is always doing something, be it promoting their latest comeback or going on tour. If, for some reason, there’s a lull in group activity, Daewon still rarely gets a rest as he often appears on variety shows in some form or another. Daewon is left with very little time to consider anything else but just getting through.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

Daewon’s longterm goal is to, even if just as a side project, write and release his own music. He’s written raps for years but MSG rarely uses what he’s written in anything. His lyrics tend to be personal, too personal for the light, happy image he’s known for. If only he had the time, he thinks he’d be able to write enough songs to perhaps warrant a lowkey solo release that matures his image and lets him speak his peace. At the current moment, though, that all seems very far off.

IDOL IMAGE

Daewon was just a kid when he came to MSG. 14 and looked even younger. He grew over the years, but even at 18, a legal adult in nearly every country in the world, management still saw the kid in him. That was how they cast him, the kid. Always happy, always laughing. Always doing something inadvisable, as though MSG didn’t carefully choreograph his every movement.  1nferno’s Danny is the class clown, willing to do anything for a laugh. The conspirator, convincing his group members and fellow variety show guests alike to make just as much of a fool of himself as he did with little more than a broad smile and an infectious laugh. Danny is the one to play pranks on his members and run away, giggling schoolboy. He’s the one to jump off a cliff into the water, shouting joyously the whole way down. Smile, laugh, be happy. Any worries he has are temporary, easily pushed aside. Life is there for Danny to take and he does.

It was an easy role for Daewon to play when he debuted. He’d grown in confidence, if not into himself, during his years as a trainee. He did want to make people laugh, to make them smile, to have them like him. What 18 year old doesn’t? He was a boy, not quiet yet a man, craving acceptance from the company, from his members, from the public. Daewon did what was necessary to get that acceptance. He still does, but it’s harder now. More than simple acceptance, now Daewon wants to be taken seriously. He wants to, sometimes, just sometimes, not always be the joker. He has so much to say, so much to share but none of it fits into the happy-go-lucky image MSG has sold for years. 1nferno’s Danny would never share his struggles, his pain the way Daewon wants to—needs to. That would be too much of a downer for his buoyant state of being. Danny brings people up, lightens their mood with his antics. He most certainly does not drag them down into existential crisis with him. He doesn’t feel those kinds of things. He can’t. Such internal conflict, a crisis of identity, does not jive with the ease through which Danny seems to move through life. There is no room for Daewon’s slow journey into maturity in 1nferno. Not when Danny, the reckless, carefree kid, looms so large.

IDOL HISTORY

Daewon was born in Seoul. Born and raised. Never lived anywhere else. Not that you’d guess that by looking at him. Western features mixed with, sometimes overpowered his Korean ones. That was all thanks to his father.

In the late 1990s, David Scott came to Korea for work, a cog in a wheel in a big machine. Though, admittedly, he was a rather big cog then, even bigger now. The trouble was David didn’t speak a word of Korean. So, instead of hiring an actual Korean to do their business in Korea, they got him a tutor. Moon Sungmi was a good teacher. Somehow, she got David to learn the language. Eventually he became something close to fluent, though that thick American accent never went away. Neither did Sungmi. By 1996, they were married. Before 1998 was even half over, they had their first child. A son. They named him Daniel. Or rather, David named him that. Sungmi gave him a more traditionally Korean name: Daewon. Daniel and Daewon. He learned to respond to both. They were both him, after all, and he was both of them. Two parts of a whole that never seemed to combine all the way through. He always had to choose between one or the other. No matter what he chose, it was never the right answer.

Daewon was followed by three others. First a girl, then another, and finally a boy. Six in one home would usually be cramped but David could afford to buy enough room for his large family. Daewon and his little sisters and brother never went without. There was no scrimping, no cutting back for the Scotts. They got what they wanted, when they wanted it. So long as their father approved. Nothing ever happened unless David approved. That was why, when the time came, Daewon was enrolled in an international-style school.

He was Daniel there. Only ever Daniel. His classes, apart from Korean language, were taught in English. His classmates, his friends, were all the children of expats living in a nation nothing like their own, looking for the comfort of the familiar. But he already was home. The only one he’d ever known. The only one he’d ever wanted. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want to be Daniel all the time. He wanted to be Daewon. He was proud of who he was. He didn’t want to hide his Korean heritage, push it to the side for something entirely foreign. But he couldn’t tell his father that. David Scott, who was so caught up in making sure his children were in touch with his culture, would never consider that, perhaps, they wanted to hold on to their mothers — theirs — as well. And so, he stayed Daniel.

Despite this, Daewon was not without connections to Korean culture. He spoke Korean at home, far more than English, mostly with his siblings and mother but even his father, if only for the convenience. He played with neighborhood children, his Korean mother sang him traditional nursery rhymes. Daewon and his siblings grew up watching the same programs as any other Korean child. Through his experiences outside of his father’s control, Daewon came to appreciate what he was missing at school. The main tethers Daewon had to his Korean heritage were his grandparents. Sungmi’s parents loved Korea. They were proud of who they were and where they came from, proud of their nation’s history. They wanted their grandchildren to understand why. They told them stories, taught them details about Korean history their teachers often breezed through, glossed over.. The Scott children learned things they were never taught in school. Daewon’s grandparents gave him enough books about Korea to fill an entire bookcase. Despite his father’s complete apathy toward it, Daewon grew to share in his grandparent’s pride. He might not be like everyone else around him, but he was Korean. No one could ever take that from him.

When he was eleven, Daewon decided that he didn’t want to go to his international school anymore. He didn’t want to be Daniel. At least not all the time. He wanted to go to a normal Korean school and be friends with normal Korean kids. He wanted the things he’d been deprived of. And so Daewon came up with what he thought was a very compelling argument: he spent years learning the way his father did, he should spend some time learning the way his mother did. He came up with a whole speech, practiced it with on his grandparents. He even had his youngest sister act as assistant, pointing out and changing the visual aides (all of which he created). And then… nothing. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t come with the courage to confront his father like that. His dad was going to say no, he knew that. Daewon couldn’t face the rejection.

A few weeks went by before Daewon heard a knock on his bedroom door. It was his mother. She’d heard from an anonymous source (his little sister) about his plan. And about how he’d abandoned it. Sungmi was proud of her son and didn’t know why he wouldn’t go through with it. Daewon tried to explain but words failed him. Sungmi understood anyway. For once, she put her foot down. Her son, her Daewon, would go to a Korean school.

Whatever Daewon was expecting at his new school, he didn’t get it. He thought it would be perfect. He thought he’d be accepted right away, make lots of new friends right off the bat. But of course, nothing is ever perfect. Nothing ever comes as easily as wanted. Daewon learned the hard way that his father wasn’t the only person he’d have to fight to claim himself as Korean. His new classmates thought he was a foreigner, not of their world. And in someways, he wasn’t. There were things that his grandparents didn’t, couldn’t prepare him for. Some cultural nuances, generational trends, he had to learn on his own. He persisted. Through force of will and a cheerful personality, Daewon won over many of his classmates. He’d always have his detractors but at least now Daewon felt as though he belonged, at least a little.

Daewon’s new friends didn’t share the burden of being in a foregn country the way his old school friends had. They were freer, it seemed to Daewon. They explored their talents and interests, shared them with each other. It was through these new friends that Daewon found his talent for rap. He’d always been drawn to music; he had guitar lessons, sang in school productions, but Daewon had never tried to rap. For a kid, he had a decent flow, good expressions. Daewon began writing his own raps after a while. It felt… freeing. Like he could finally say all the things he’d always been too afraid to. Like he finally had an outlet for all the frustration he’d felt fighting to just be who he was.

When Daewon was fourteen, he and his friends all made a pact. They’d heard from some older students about auditions for MSG. If they could pass the auditions, if they could debut, then the whole country would be able to hear their music. Being teenagers, they couldn’t see a downside. Eight went into the auditions, but only two passed. One of them was Daewon.

At first, Daewon didn’t want to continue after his audition. What was the point if most of his friends wouldn’t be there? It wasn’t like his dad would approve, anyway. He’d just chalk it up to a fun experience. Daewon didn’t expect the support he got. His friends, while a little jealous, yes, wanted to see him succeed. His siblings thought the whole thing was just cool. His grandparents were proud of him, his mother, too. Most surprisingly of all, his father supported it. David Scott realized, somewhat belatedly, that his son would never, no matter how hard he tried, have the same life he did. He would have his own experiences. He had his own talents. Daewon cried the day his father told him that. Tears of shock and yes, happiness.  He would be an MSG trainee. He would become an idol.

Like everything, it seemed, being a trainee was harder than Daewon expected. Long hours practicing, instructors who didn’t care if he was just a kid. No one seemed to care that a daily schedule of before school practice, school, afterschool practice and homework might’ve been a bit much for a fourteen year old. Daewon wanted to quit many times, but his friends, his family were always there to motivate him. Though he sometimes forgot, being a trainee reminded Daewon of just how lucky he was. He pressed on.

Weeks turned into months, months into years. By the time Daewon was chosen for 1nferno’s final lineup, he wasn’t the same kid he’d been when he auditioned. He hit a growth spurt, his voice was lower. Most importantly, though, he was polished. Gone was the small, ungainly kid and in his place was a practice performer. He was vibrant, charismatic on stage and off. Confident in ways he’d never been. It was easy to see why management gave him a carefree and playful image to go along with the group’s debut boy next door concept. Being a young kid, just barely old enough to drink at the time of his debut, it seemed a perfect fit. Excited just to be debuting, Daewon even accepted the use of an old childhood nickname, Danny, as his stagename. He hadn’t been called that in years, but it was alright. The world would finally get to hear his music and that was what mattered.

While the groups concepts varied wildly over the ensuing years, 1nferno’s Danny stayed the same. To the world, he was still a kid. Quick to tease or crack a joke. The public expected him to do silly, sometimes dangerous things and he did them. More than once, he was injured in such a stunt, limiting his ability to perform. MSG seemed happy with the result regardless. Danny quickly became a variety favorite known for his willingness to do anything. This earned him a brief stint as a recurring guest host on Weekly Idol, among other appearances. Danny was always a joy to have grace the tv screen.

But Daewon is not Danny. Not all the time. In the same way that he wasn’t Daniel. After nearly three years, the act has grown weary. Repeated injuries and constant comebacks have Daewon feeling tired, run down at only 20. It becomes harder and harder to keep up the happy façade his image requires. Daewon wishes things would slow down, that the demands on him would lessen instead of increase. He wants the time to rest, to work on his own music. He wants to be able to put out songs that speak to his experience, that have his voice. It’s what he’s always wanted but he’s grown tired of waiting. Still, the world turns and MSG, 1nferno and the matches continue to expect a bright, cheerful Danny, so Danny he will remain. At least for now.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.inferno #id.chwe hansol #id.league

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON 1NFERNO’S LEAD DANCE AND LEAD RAP, CHOI WOONG...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: n/a CURRENT AGE: 22 DEBUT AGE: 19 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 15 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Acting

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): woongie, giraffe, beanstalk, zac (his english name being zachary) INSPIRATION: dax was inspired to be an idol because of his dance teacher in osaka. when dax moved to japan, he couldn’t speak to anyone because of the language barrier, so he started to dance after seeing street performers. his dance teacher taught him to express himself through the movements and pushed him into his idol career. SPECIAL TALENTS: 

fluent in english

celebrity impressions

flexibility

NOTABLE FACTS:

parents & older sister all born abroad while woong was born in korea

acted in small theatre roles as a child

plays some guitar and piano

currently studying acting at sungkyunkwan university

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

woong’s main short-term goal is for 1nferno to get a music show win with their next comeback. everything necessary to make that happen is included: improving his vocals, improving his variety skills, keeping the fans interested, and getting the group more public attention.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

ultimately, woong would like to be a serious actor. the ideal would be something along the lines of exo’s d.o’s career, where he is not grouped with other idol-actors but performs more serious roles and is seen as capable in both capacities. 

IDOL IMAGE

choi woong inspires a feeling of trust. he’s a good guy, goofy and lovable, a boy next door - all wrinkles are carefully ironed down and presented only when they are perfectly erased. a combination of becoming an idol and trying desperately to incorporate acting into some part of his life meant that he spends every moment he has in the public eye appearing exactly perfect. he knows when to be silly, exactly how silly to be, and when to withdraw himself. the company shows him off as a pretty boy with a heart of gold, and in spite of his skills not quite living up to those of the other members he draws generally positive attention. unfortunately, this typically doesn’t gain too much traction - one fan will make a post about how he stayed behind after 1nferno had recorded a show to push in everyone’s chairs and it gets some response from people within their fandom and some from outside, never quite going viral. being kind isn’t flashy and it doesn’t get woong much attention but it does build a solid foundation for his relationship with the general public.

this is all a far cry from his offstage personality. woong’s real self is loud, obnoxious, clingy. he’s enthusiastic and good at improving the mood of a room - all good traits, but not quite the put-together persona he’s meant to put on as a member of 1nferno. he’s an extrovert in the most obvious ways, making friends whenever he has an opportunity and is typically the first person in the room to break the ice and start a conversation. some of these details come across to avid fans through when woong gets carried away and acts louder and more extreme than he usually would in front of the public, but it’s been received as him becoming more comfortable with being an idol rather than him breaking character.

IDOL HISTORY

woong has always felt like he had gotten the short end of the stick. his mother and father were born in vancouver and san diego, respectively, to korean parents who had immigrated after the korean war. his sister, older than him by eight years, was born in los angeles and had stories about family outings to disneyland and in-n-out, about endless sunshine pouring through the windows and the constant smell of the sea. when his mother was pregnant with him, however, she received a shiny new job offer that brought the family to live in south korea. on may 17th, 1996, choi woong was born in yeosu, only months too late to have qualified for an american passport.

perhaps as a result of his idea of his family’s past in the united states as glamorous and exciting versus his boring jeolla upbringing, woong decided on stardom from early on. he begged his parents to fund classes after school for anything that might help him get there - he signed up for piano, guitar, voice, dance, and acting lessons, all with the hopes of discovering some kind of innate talent. but at such a young age he was easily discouraged when these proved to be harder than anticipated. his parents refused to let him give up on everything and told him to choose one and to see it through. he chose acting.

it worked out well, for a while. he ended up liking it more than he had expected, eventually developing it into a modest, if not fantastic, skill. as long as he kept his grades up, his parents let him go to auditions - yeosu wasn’t exactly overflowing with acting opportunities, but he got a few chances to stand onstage, playing small parts as a couple’s son or a younger version of one of the main characters. but as he grew out of his cute childhood self and into a pimply and awkward teenager, the few roles he had been getting dried up.

at first, he figured this was for the best. he’d acted, he’d enjoyed some of the exciting aspects of it, and now he could move on with his life. he cancelled his lessons; that was that. except weeks passed with no shows and no practice and no lessons, and woong couldn’t stop feeling antsy and restless. he’d loved being out onstage in character more than he’d thought. he confided in a friend, who suggested trying out for an entertainment company - they won’t care that he’s in the middle of puberty, since they invest for the long haul, and lots of them train actors who don’t sing or dance as well as idols. he was hesitant - seoul was so far, would his parents even let him move there on his own? - but a bunch of companies were holding auditions next month in gwangju, which was too close to home to resist. he signed up for one audition slot per each company from the family computer that night.

being untrained in vocals, rap, and dance, woong got rejected from most of the places he had auditioned for. but a monologue he had delivered when a member of the audition panel asked if he had anything else to show got him a contract with msg entertainment. he phoned his mom from the building, telling her for the first time that he was planning on pursuing this. it took some convincing, but after some arguments and a few tense days she sat down to help him pack.

he moved to seoul and began training. the company insisted that he put in hours working on vocals and rap and dance, because “you never know”. he hadn’t changed much since his early years of quitting when something was hard, and the temptation was strong, but he didn’t dare do anything that could get him kicked out of training - this was the best shot at fame he’d ever gotten. he persevered and sweat and bled through it all. when his scheduled time with the acting coach started to get cut to less and less, he didn’t notice or process the change until weeks later.

the company promised him a debut and insisted that it would be easier to make it as an actor with a spot in an idol group. woong then half-unwillingly agreed to join the predebut training group that would become 1nferno, msg’s highly anticipated new boy group. his skills were below those of the other boys’, but he had other things to contribute - an infectiously bright attitude, a pretty face, an additional skill that has the potential to bring msg more money down the road.

woong’s acting debut has been scheduled for after 1nferno’s first music show win. he’s been struggling towards that goal for two years with no success; each promotion ends with no wins and huge disappointment. woong has grown to like the idol life, but it’s not the glamour he had wanted growing up and it’s not his passion. his resentment of the company and 1nferno’s shortcomings is starting to boil in the pit of his gut, and he knows it’s unfair to blame anyone in particular, especially any of the other members, but he’s growing sick of giving and giving without his promised return.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.1nferno #id.kim seokwoo #id.honeypot