Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s unfair, Gunwoo reasons.

It’s unfair that he wakes up, lost and confused, wearing another person’s face and body. It’s unfair that his choices have been taken away from him, unfair that he’s forced into an impossible situation, expected to go against his nature and bathe in the limelight at the cost of his life, unfair that everything has been turned upside down with no rhyme or reason or explanation.

But above all, he thinks as he commits the handwritten suicide letter to memory, it’s unfair that Park Moondae died young, cold, hungry and alone. The letter in his hands is simple, deceptively sweet, and reads:

Hello, my name is Park Moondae .

If you found this letter, first – I want to apologize for the trouble I have caused you and your business. Second, I left my wallet and all my information on the dresser. In my bank account, I have what’s left of my inheritance. Please use however much you need to process my body and whatever fees you may need to pay. You can keep the rest or donate whatever remains to a good charity – maybe something to do with animals? That would be nice.

There is no one to inform of my passing, my parents passed a year ago and I have no immediate relatives. I dropped out of school earlier this year so there is also no need to inform them either (please, do not contact my school please).

Again, I am very very very sorry for the trouble this is causing you. I’m sorry you had to find me like this but I didn’t want it to hurt. Thank you for providing a comfortable space for me and once more, I am deeply and sincerely sorry for the trouble. -Park Moondae

When he stumbled back into the living area from the bathroom, the letter was sitting folded next to an empty prescription bottle of sleeping pills. Gunwoo could feel his heart break as he forced himself to read on, spiderweb cracks spreading with every word he took in, his mind already filling in everything unsaid in between the neatly written lines. 

This wasn't just some kid in over his head, this was someone deeply affected by his trauma, who saw the choices left in his life and yet still accepted that this was supposed to be his ending, he welcomed it with an innocent acceptance. Park Moondae's final apology, shaky and messy unlike the rest of the letter, had a searing, growing pain travel up his throat and settle behind his eyes, a pressure and heat that pounded with every beat of his pulse.

Gunwoo isn’t prone to tears or overt displays of emotion but what else could he do in the face of a lonely child’s last words? What could he do but mourn for someone who gave up so young but was good, kind, and considerate to the end?

For the first time in years, nearly a decade to the date that his own parents passed, Gunwoo lets himself cry. The motel is quiet save for the soft creaks of the upstairs occupant’s pacing steps and the muffled sound of his new body’s hiccuping sobs.

Park Moondae cries quietly, his thin fingers and slight hands coming up to muffle the sound like he was used to making himself smaller and silent. They tremble and shake over his mouth but they’re pressed tight against his flesh, almost as if he's afraid to be heard. And Gunwoo can’t remember what it feels like to cry in his original body anymore, a persistent numbness he couldn’t shake blurred everything before and after his parents’ deaths, but he can’t recall ever it being like this.

Like he's choking and drowning in front of a crowd and no one is looking, like the emotions are a tidal wave he has to weather until his body's tears dry, like it's a losing fight he has to keep getting up over and over again for - like he's begging for someone to help but too afraid to accept it.

It’s almost as if the phantom remnants of Park Moondae still live in his limbs alongside Gunwoo's soul, like echoes of the child gone was taking the chance to cry out one last time and his body was following its inborn instincts. But it’s Gunwoo who decides to pry his shaking hands away from his face, it’s Gunwoo who wraps his arms around himself in a facsimile of an embrace and it’s Gunwoo who decides to rock back and forth and whisper words of comfort that Moondae should have heard when he was still alive.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Gunwoo says to himself, desperate for a god he didn’t believe in that Moondae could still somehow hear him. “This will never be enough, I know, but wherever you are I hope you can feel this, I hope you can hear me. You’ve been so brave, Moondae-yah.”

Gunwoo's eyes feel hot and raw, his throat is already sore from holding back the primal, animal sorrow he feels but he keeps talking. It doesn't matter if his words will never be heard. It needs to be said out loud - something has to know that Gunwoo, a complete stranger thrown into this body, found love in the glimpses of the original Park Moondae he saw in his final letter; he saw someone who lost hope but never his humanity, and it's for that person that Gunwoo needed to do this.

“It’s alright to rest now because I got you, kid. I’m here and I’m-,” Gunwoo’s rocking only falters when he feels another shuddering sob wheeze, thin and tight, out of his throat. “I’m going to take care of you from now on – it’s you and me, okay?”

Gunwoo knows loneliness. He knows isolation. He knows what it's like to be an afterthought so he's making Park Moondae his priority.

"We're going to be okay, we're going to make it through this. You're never going to suffer another day in your life, you hear me?" Gunwoo whispers roughly, like he's trying to convince himself too. "I'm going to make sure everyone loves you because it's the least you deserve. You should've been loved the entire time."

Gunwoo squeezes his hands around the skinny diameter of his arms tight enough that it hurts. He's furious at the world for breaking Park Moondae down to skin and bone, until he felt that he had no choice left, and at whatever entity thought it’d be funny to put someone like Gunwoo into this fucked up situation.

When he first saw the status abnormality threatening his life, he wanted to give up right then and there. Gunwoo can barely take care of himself, has barely cared about himself, and now he's expected to care enough to go against his very being. He's private, he's introverted, some would even say anti-social, what business does he have in the idol world? Someone with a better grasp of their emotions might point out that he may be doing this out of a guilt that's severely misplaced, that he's being forced to not only fight for himself but for Park Moondae who never had a chance, out of pity for a child who reflected his own circumstances.

It should feel manipulative but he can't know if this is something that the being running the status window accounted for and not just Gunwoo's usual sense of responsibility. It should feel like a chore, like an endless tormenting quest but all Gunwoo feels is rage. He's so fucking angry that a kid died and the world didn't stop and reflect on its mistakes, it just tried a bandaid solution for a gaping wound. 

Gunwoo suddenly can’t stand the silence, too big and looming around his new frail little body, and he wants to scream and destroy everything in sight. It's just so fucking unfair. There's so much he wants to do, he wants to throw things and punch walls. He wants to break down and throw a tantrum until someone comes and fixes everything for him. 

He may look like one again but Gunwoo isn't a kid, he hasn't been one in a very long time and he already knows that the only person he can rely on is himself. So he calms down with deep, slow breaths and keeps his head out of respect for the child whose body he was now occupying.

“Let's do this,” he says instead. “Happy birthday, Moondae-yah.”

Ryu Gunwoo wakes up as Park Moondae on a cold winter evening in the middle of December. Park Moondae had turned 17 yesterday.

When Ryu Gunwoo fell asleep, absolutely plastered and drunk beyond comprehension, he was 22 years old, in his first year of college and mourning the start of the new semester with the rest of his department.

The two high school friends he managed to keep were horrified when he let them know he was enlisting early, right after graduation, but Gunwoo just wanted it done and out of the way. He’d rather disrupt his life now when it was still nebulous and unformed rather than when he was more settled in and settled down somewhere more permanent.

Sure, he was starting life a little late and would be entering the workforce older than most graduates but he was sure whatever company he settled with would be glad that they wouldn't have to lose him to conscription somewhere down the line.

The only real issue was that, as a first year, Gunwoo was expected to show up at certain events and be present for parties he had neither the patience nor funds for. Drinking parties were the backbone of many students’ social lives and even Gunwoo, who preferred to be alone, knew that he should at least show up to get to know the faces he’d see in all of his classes for the next few years.

The drinking culture in his university was rampant and it didn't take long for upperclassmen and his classmates alike to start dragging him to all sorts of parties and events. Gunwoo didn't know if it was the friendlier, sociable version of himself he slapped on while in public or the unfailingly polite way he spoke to everyone but he managed to endear himself to a few upperclassmen who would graciously pay for him as he acted shy and grateful while putting up paltry refusals of their generosity.

Gunwoo quickly learned that a respectful addition of 'sunbae' and a smile was sometimes all it took for the more hierarchy-obsessed individuals to start spoiling him. Socializing wasn't too bad a price to pay if it meant free food and drinks.

Not that Gunwoo ended up doing much socializing that night, one particular sunbae was adamant on monopolizing his time and clearly trying to get him wasted with how often he kept refilling his drink. That night, Gunwoo was already tired and achy from being jostled by concert crowds all afternoon during his part time job as a data pal so it didn’t take much for him to lose track of how much he drank and he quickly overindulged.

One minute, he was listening to his classmate rant about the notoriously difficult tax admin professor he hated, while another upperclassman on his other side kept cooing over him and insisting he call her ‘noona’ (all the while, his annoying sunbae pressed another full glass into his empty hand) – the next, he was home and slamming the door in his sunbae's face as he tried to wheedle his way into Gunwoo's apartment.

The man was shouting something about wasting his time and putting out but Gunwoo was very very very drunk and couldn't find it in himself to care. That was a problem for tomorrow Gunwoo - right now all he wanted to do was lay down on the nearest flat surface and wake up when the world wasn't spinning.

His last memory as Ryu Gunwoo was taking the time to block that particular sunbae from his contacts and then falling into bed without changing.

Once the shock, horror, and sorrow of his new life settled and once he was sure that it wasn’t a very elaborate alcohol poisoning-induced hallucination, Gunwoo - now Park Moondae - started to get to work.

"Oh my, look at you. You have rice on your cheek, my love," the waitress coos as he asks for another portion of rice as politely as he can manage while still eating, hiding his full mouth behind his hand. "I'll get that for you, give me a second okay?"

She thumbs the rice off of Moondae's cheek and smiles, fond, when Moondae flushes and apologizes, rubbing at his cheeks to catch any more errant food still stuck on his person. The adult man's personality in Moondae would've felt more embarrassment if he hadn't gotten similar treatment throughout the week.

Park Moondae was blessed and cursed with a baby face. When Gunwoo first saw the kid in the mirror, he could've sworn he was not even out of middle school yet. Moondae was small and slight, disconcertingly thin - from hunger, Gunwoo had sadly surmised as his stomach growled throughout that first night - the baby fat on his cheeks the only thing keeping him from looking gaunt. He had big amber eyes and gentle, delicate features that didn't hold any of Gunwoo's usual expressions well.

What was neutral on his old face, just looked sad and lost on Moondae's adorable little face and he had been stopped more than once by concerned mothers and fathers asking if he needed help finding his parents. Gunwoo felt ridiculous posing his face in the mirror but it helped and the amount of damage to his pride was lessened considerably in the following days.

"Here you are, my love!"

The waitress slides another bowl of rice onto his plastic table and then reaches up to her tray to give him a small plate of spicy pork bokkeum on the side. She winks when he looks up at her, head tilted to the side with a questioning look on his face.

"That's on the house," she says, pinching the same cheek that had rice stuck onto it. "You eat so well but you're still so skinny! Noona is going to make sure you leave full, full, full!"

She whips away as someone calls for her to bring another round of side dishes to another table but Moondae can't help but stop her with a tug on her apron. He wants to deny how warm and loved he feels with this simple and kind gesture from a stranger but he musters up everything inside of him to smile up at her when she looks back.

"Thank you so much, noona. I'll eat well."

There's a strangled scream as she turns around and Moondae is confused but grateful all the same. Gunwoo had never said no to free food and now Moondae would hold the same philosophy. Moondae's body was dangerously underweight after all, the bones in his wrists and the little ribs in his chest were visible and frail, so he would take anything he would get.

The entire staff waves him off with indulgent smiles and calls to come back as he thanks them for the food and if he skips a little as he leaves, that was all Moondae's body and definitely not Gunwoo. Gunwoo was too busy emailing the lease he signed back to his landlord to skip.

He would never know why the original Moondae refused to touch the money his parents left behind, but now that he was here, he was going to use it to make sure this body was taken care of. That's why Gunwoo's first order of business was to get out of the moldy motel room that Moondae chose as his final resting place and get a meal. He sent a quick apology to the original Moondae and a heartfelt thanks to Moondae's parents as he ate generous portions of a light and thin tuna miyeok guk and rice.

While he would've ideally had something more substantial, Moondae couldn't risk the shock of filling up this underfed body too full and too fast - the last thing he needed to do was get sick, he genuinely didn't know if he could survive it.

Once that Moondae could see his body slowly starting to keep the weight, he moved out of the tiny youth hostel he was staying in and found the cheapest studio apartment in the safest part of town and managed to wheedle the rent down to something more manageable after appealing to his landlord's soft grandfather heart.

It was tiny but clean, with enough open space for the heated futon he got on sale and his small closet, plus a standard kitchenette and fridge so he could start cooking for himself instead of going out all the time. The bathroom would've been too small for Gunwoo but fit Moondae perfectly and comfortably. It was not an ideal place for a child to live in, sure, but it was warm and safe and his, and that's all he could really want in the meantime.

Moondae moves in that night fairly quickly since he has next to no possessions and it's only when he's bundled in bed that he opens the status window and finally peruses it. He only has about 340 days left to fulfill his mission after the weeks of getting himself settled but nothing he did was a waste of time in his opinion, Moondae's health came first.

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 1
Title: None

Singing: C
Dancing: -
Looks: B+
Charm: B-

Traits: Infinite Potential

"What the hell," Moondae mutters to himself. "This face is so cute, how is it only a B+?"

Moondae opens his camera to look at his face and with a frown that looks like a pout, figures that maybe a haircut would do him some good. He already has a plan in place and needs to get the ball rolling. He has an idol survival show to win.

Chapter Text

By the time Park Moondae is able to sit down in the waiting room to film the first episode of Idol Incorporated, he already knows he's going to fucking hate it here.

He's had no less than five of the staff ask if he was lost or waiting for his brother to finish auditioning. When it finally stuck into their heads that he was actually there to participate, several contestants came over to talk to him to try and encourage him or say how brave they thought he was for auditioning. He knows that Moondae's cute looks are perfect for TV, but he can't tell if they're just using him to get screen time or if they actually mean what they say.

Nevertheless, Moondae is determined to come out of this entire experience universally beloved and so he acts like the consummate little brother - listening well, nodding seriously when expected and looking shy and/or timid when the situation called for it.

The cameramen in the corner were eating it up and Moondae comforts himself in that, at least, he'll definitely show up in the audition episode.

He knows what kind of story they want to spin for him; poor little orphan kid, the youngest of all the contestants, who wants to be a part of something bigger and work his way out of his sad little circumstances. The writers in his interview looked like they ascended when they learned he had no parents and just turned 17 - it was a veritable treasure trove of angst they could supply the show with and he was young enough for it to be extra syrupy sweet and sympathetic.

He's not liable for the actions he'll take if they ask him to cry though.

"Oh my God! Am I older than you?"

A child that looks like he's in middle school bounces over and Moondae barely stops the reflex to flinch away from him. He's wearing overalls that are a little too big and he has stickers on his little puppy face - Moondae immediately relaxes because no one who was a serious threat would wear anything he was seeing right now.

"Um, maybe?" Moondae replies, folding his hands in his lap and sitting onto his knees to be polite. "May I ask how old you are?"

"I just turned 18 three weeks ago!" the kid replies, still bouncing. "My name is Choi Wongil, what about you?"

"Oh," Moondae says with a thoughtful look on his face. "Then, it's nice to meet you Choi Wongil-hyungnim. My name is Park Moondae, I'm 17. My birthday was a few weeks ago as well."

Wongil mouths 'hyungnim' to himself with a shocked look on his face before he starts to look both excited and smug. He falls to his knees in front of Moondae and takes both his hands in his and shakes them up and down, excited.

"You can just call me Wongil-hyung, Moondae-yah!"

He's practically vibrating in excitement and Moondae has to grudgingly admit that he's very adorable. Moondae knows better than to squander a chance like this and resolves to stay friendly with Wongil - two adorable faces were better than one, after all.

"Okay, Wongil-hyung," Moondae gives a tiny smile back and squeezes Wongil's hands in his. "Please take care of me."

"Of course!" Wongil nods, still looking mildly imperious in a harmless way. "You can count on me, Moondae-yah!"

There are a few murmurs and good natured laughs all around; he knows the impact of the kind of scene they're making. Moondae can spot the cameramen in the corner filming them, hiding chuckles behind their fists and resists the urge to smirk.

Oh, he has this shit locked down. He can already imagine the kids' show BG music playing behind their scene with the added sparkles and unnecessary zoom-ins; they'll probably insert clips of various baby animals playing around next to them. He and Wongil's screen time was more than secured, it was guaranteed.

Auditions are well underway when Wongil is finally pulled away from his side; Wongil, on hearing that Moondae had no agency affiliation or training of any kind, started on a nervous tirade that felt more like a quick industry rundown. It was genuinely sweet to see this kid suddenly feel like he had a responsibility over Moondae all because of his age and that was the only reason why he didn't just get up and leave.

This only added fuel to Gunwoo's original theory that being polite was better than anything else. Who knows what kind of disaster would transpire if he accidentally made an enemy of Wongil? He only looked harmless, but he's seen the kind of kids who were successful in show business - all of them ruthless, cunning little fucks. Moondae wasn't actually a child so he could only imagine how it'd be for an actual young person to show up to a program like this.

"Next contestant, stand by. Park Moondae-ssi, you're up next!"

Moondae gets up and straightens his shirt as he heads to the standby stage - several contestants cheer him on and he bows the entire walk over to the side stage. When he finally gets to the stage, he tells himself it's Moondae's body that's trembling the faintest bit. Gunwoo certainly never gets nervous and tries his best to exude calm and cool.

There's a faint smattering of comments and he can pick up a few remarks here and there about his looks and his age.

"Woah, and I thought that other kid looked young - I feel so old haha!"

"Aww, he looks so nervous. Hang in there!"

"You got this, Moondae-yah!"

Moondae gives a tiny smile over at Wongil as he walks to center stage and nods at his cheer. 

"Hello, I'm Park Moondae, I'm 17 years old. Please take care of me."

The judges practically have hearts in their eyes as he bows low and introduces himself in a slightly wavering voice. He knew that a haircut was a good idea.

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 7
Title: None

Singing: A-
Dancing: D+
Looks: A-
Charm: B-

Traits: Infinite Potential

Moondae is all too aware of the importance of looks in the idol world and he knows for a fact that that's the only reason why his stiff rendition of Pop⭐Con got the amount of love that it did. He's a cute little kid with an incredible singing voice who looked like he was trying his best, of course they were far more lenient in their judgment. 

If he didn't try as hard or look as earnest as he did, they'd probably spin him to be some kind of arrogant brat coasting on his singing skills. Still, even as the rest of the judges laugh, coo and in Coach Mudie's case, shed actual tears from how cute she thought he was, Coach Youngrin makes it a point to tell him that he needs to work on dancing if he wants to go far in this competition. Her eyes are amused and warm but her words are sharp and helpful and Moondae just nods politely and bows.

"I'll make sure to train hard, I won't let you down."

"Good, work hard."

The judges confer for a few moments and Moondae only fidgets a little as they nod amongst themselves. He's expecting to be in the mid-twenties, if only for his vocal ability. He's probably the best vocalist showcased so far aside from Wongil who placed well due to his skill in singing and showcasing his basics in dancing.

"Park Moondae, 13th place!"

What the fuck.

Moondae walks in a daze and absently lets everyone pat his back and ruffle his hair as he walks to the upper dais and settles on a comfortable chair that dwarfs him. The contestants around him congratulate him and pat his head and face with happy smiles.

"Good job, kid!"

"Park Moondae, you're my hero - that was an incredible rendition of Pop⭐Con."

"Oh my God, you're even more baby up close."

Two rows down, Wongil waves his arm and gives him two thumbs up and a cheesy grin. He snaps out of his daze and gives two serious thumbs up back; around him, there are more laughs and comments about how nice it is that the kids are getting along. Moondae is starting to feel more like a mascot than a contestant.

"Hey, good job! You were too cute, Park Moondae right? Can I call you Moondae-yah?"

The contestant directly in front of him turns around fully to face him with a big grin on his face. He's tall, broad shouldered and cheeky looking with sharp canines poking out of his smile. His eyes are friendly and open, he's a little older than Moondae - probably in his 20s.

"Of course, hyungnim," Moondae replies, with a serious nod. "May I ask for your name please?"

"Oh my God, you're like a little businessman. What happened to the adorable popcorn fairy on stage a minute ago?" he laughs uproariously. "Ah, my name is Lee Sejin - B! But you can call me Sejinnie-hyung~!"

Moondae mentally clenches his fist and has a few choice words for this asshole.

"Sejin-hyungnim, then," Moondae says, decisively. "I don't want to be rude."

"Aww," Lee Sejin pouts. "I'm only, Jesus, I'm three years older than you... Maybe you should call me ahjussi instead."

"Sejin-ahjussi?" Moondae tries, looking earnest and innocent, hiding a smirk when Lee Sejin's face goes white.

The dramatics of children - he'll never understand. In reality, Moondae was two years older than this kid and they were all still young. No one was even close to uncle status yet.

"Dear God, never do that again," Lee Sejin shudders, sinking down in his seat as the camera reset finishes. "I feel extra old when you say it with that baby face."

"Sorry, Sejin-hyung," Moondae replies, aiming for sweet and landing somewhere in the vicinity of little shit. "You're not that old, I swear."

Hah, try mocking him one more time.

Lee Sejin splutters but is ultimately forced to turn back around and cut their conversation short when the next contestant gets on stage. Moondae marks that as a victory in his head.

The contestant directly after Moondae is insanely pretty to the point where Moondae has to assume that he's going to suck at everything else. If he had a face like that in this life or the one before as Gunwoo, he'd just coast on his looks. He eats his words in the next moment when Seon Ahyeon's status window blooms in front of him and with his skills, Seon Ahyeon isn't just a contender - he's a frontrunner in the competition.

It's a shame that his negative attribute affects him so severely but respectable in that he still manages to place 14th despite all the major debuffs in place. Seon Ahyeon, despite placing well within the Top 20, does not look happy and is shaking as he sits in the seat next to Moondae.

Moondae wants to say something but Seon Ahyeon looks pale and faint in his chair and opts instead to reach under his chair, opens a bottle of water and hands it to his seatmate with a small tap against his trembling hand gripping tight at the armrest. Ahyeon whips around to face him as if seeing him for the first time and flushes a brilliant red that, somehow, serves to make him look prettier.

"Th-thank you," he stutters quietly, taking a sip. "You're very k-kind."

"You're welcome. Hyungnim looked a little pale, so please rest comfortably." Moondae replies quietly, handing over the lid with slow, gentle movements.

Ahyeon nods and bows back so much that even Moondae feels a little awkward. The rest of the auditions are nothing to write home about, only a few people manage to bump Moondae down and he ends at a comfortable 21st place with Ahyeon being 22nd. Honestly, he was uncomfortable being in the Top 20 with his subpar performance; he also knows the watching audience would've also had issues with his placement if it went any higher.

Moondae has never been extremely conscious of his words and actions, but he's in a different, hyper-scrutinized world now. His ultimate goal is to debut, yes, but he also wants Park Moondae to come out of this program squeaky-fucking-clean and never have to worry about anything again. He's still holding out hope the kid's soul is somewhere out there and will eventually make his way back home.

And when he does, Gunwoo hopes Moondae feels so loved, he never feels lonely again.

Chapter Text

Seon Ahyeon tries not to feel like a criminal as he peeks into the practice room. It's late at night, almost 3am but Park Moondae is still ambling along - working through the assigned choreography rather stiffly but with more confidence and command than he had earlier that day.

Ahyeon had been waging a war in his head for the last half hour, pacing behind the door as he debated going in or just minding his business. He has been an only child for two decades with little to no friends his age, he barely knows how to deal with himself, why does he think he can somehow navigate an interaction with someone younger than him?

What if Moondae thinks he was being nosy? What if he thinks he was trying to discourage him by asking him to take a break? Or, what if - and Ahyeon shudders at this in particular - he thought he was being bullied by someone who was better at dancing?

The decision is made for him though, when right as he was about to turn around and go to bed to try again tomorrow, there's a crash. He doesn't exactly slam the door open but he can hear the distinct sound of drywall crumbling as he rushes into the room. Park Moondae is in a hapless pile on the floor groaning and Ahyeon gasps, falling to his knees as his hands hover over the trembling child.

"Moondae-ssi," he says after two quick and panicked breaths, trying to be the calm adult he was supposed to be. "Where are you hurt?"

"...-gry."

"W-what?"

"I'm... I'm hungry," Moondae repeats, clearly reluctant, even as he remains in his curled up position and shaking. "I'm sorry, but can you look away for a moment Ahyeon-hyungnim?"

"Oh no, so you did injure yourself! Please show me where it hurts!" Ahyeon insists and he's fumbling in his pocket for the protein bar he stashed before coming here. "Wait, you're hungry too? Please, here, you can have this."

"I'm fine," Moondae insists something a little more urgent tinging his tone and still not showing his face. "I'm just very embarrassed to be found like this."

"Oh my goodness," and with a relief that's palpable, Ahyeon goes over to pick Moondae up around the waist and help him onto a chair. "Come, eat this and take a break."

It's disconcertingly easy to set Moondae upright and even Moondae seems shocked and lets out a surprised little 'ah' as Ahyeon helps him sit. He looks bewildered as Ahyeon, powered by the relief that everything was okay and leftover anxiety at the thought of Moondae injuring himself in the middle of the night and no one finding him until the morning, opens the wrapper of the protein bar and sets it into his hand.

"Hold this," he says before making his way across the room to the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water, he opens it and sets it in Moondae's other hand. "Eat and drink, please. Now."

Ahyeon's tone brooks no argument and Moondae takes a bite with a wide eyed look up at him. Moondae is eating in silence, trying to avoid his eyes while Ahyeon tries to collect himself. He's settled leaning against the glass wall next to Moondae by the time that he remembers that he basically accosted the kid and should probably apologize. When Moondae is halfway through the protein bar, he opens his mouth intent on saying sorry but a question comes out instead.

"It's late, why aren't you resting?"

Moondae flinches a little and he's suddenly very aware that his hovering can seem like looming.

"Practicing the choreography," Moondae finally replies, an upset line on his mouth as he brings his hands, food and drink closer together in his lap. "I need to catch up with the rest of my class."

It's equal parts earnest and hesitant and Ahyeon can't stop himself from laying a hand on his head. He pats twice and does his best to look encouraging as he smiles down at Moondae, it doesn't seem successful though when Moondae's eyes just get bigger but he harnesses whatever god of social confidence overtook him just now to say what he's been holding back.

"Coach Lee wasn't very kind, was he?" he says, soft and gentle.

Ahyeon had been walking back from the vocal studio just as the beginner's dance class was ending and accidentally heard every single harsh word that fell out of their trainer's mouth. Moondae had looked devastated but no one around him did anything to comfort him, save a few paltry words, or help him where he was struggling. Everyone just left him to his own devices. Seeing Moondae's solitary figure, in the corner of the room practicing by himself even as everyone else headed out left a sour taste in Ahyeon's mouth.

"Don't take his words to heart, he's just trying to encourage you in his own clumsy way," Ahyeon assures, leaning down a little to make deliberate eye contact with Moondae. "But I don't think he meant to drive you to practice so late in the night."

"Oh no, I'm not- that is, I'm okay," Moondae sounds and looks unsure however, and ducks his head down as he tries to set down the protein bar and water onto the floor. "Coach Lee was right. I'm very bad at dancing."

"No, you're not," Ahyeon says, a frown on his face. "I watched you and you have most of it down, you just need to add power to your movements and improve your flow. You have all the basics down otherwise."

Moondae looks back up at him with those wide eyes and Ahyeon can't help but reach down to pat him on the head again. It's not something Ahyeon would usually ever do but seeing Moondae, like a little reflection of who he was, he can't help but want to be the caring and guiding figure he's wanted for so long in his own life. And Ahyeon doesn't know if anything he's doing is making Moondae feel better but he keeps going regardless.

"You're only a beginner, it's only the second day, and you're never going to improve if you're exhausted," Ahyeon lists out, smiling gently to soften the blow. "Let's go to bed, okay? You can try again tomorrow."

Moondae squints up at him like he's seen something particularly bright and Ahyeon stoops down, crouching so he's looking up at Moondae instead and takes his frightfully skinny wrists in between his hands.

"Sorry, were the fluorescents in your eyes?" Ahyeon frets, snapping out of lecture mode. "And finish your food, you need to eat something before you rest."

"...No," Moondae finally says after a beat. "Ahyeon-hyungnim is just very dazzling, I wasn't expecting it."

He says this with a serious look on his little face and it has Ahyeon flushing to the roots of his hair. Oh god, what was he thinking - he wasn't cut out to look out for anyone when he was this easily flustered.

"But I understand what you're saying," Moondae continues, clenching his hands a little as he avoids looking at Ahyeon. "I swear, I'm usually very responsible but time got away from me. Thank you for looking out for me and thank you very much for the food and water."

He sketches a deep bow, even seated, and Ahyeon has to hide the sigh of relief.

"Do you want to review the choreo with me tomorrow?" Ahyeon asks, only a touch nervous.

Moondae's head whips up and he can tell there's already a refusal on his lips.

"I'm not doing this to hover," Ahyeon says reassuringly, and gently rubs his thumbs against the prominent bones in Moondae's wrists. "And I know you're capable and old enough to watch out for yourself but you're also allowed to ask for help."

"Okay," Moondae says after a moment of silence and there's a bashful look on his face. "Thank you, Ahyeon-hyungnim. You're very kind."

Moondae feels a little like he's been clubbed over the head. He's not tired by proxy of the skill he obtained the day before (though Sleep Is For The Dead was a morbid name to have in his status window considering the circumstances that landed him here) but there wasn't much he could do when Seon Ahyeon, someone who couldn't even look at him for longer than a second the day before, fed and watered him and then essentially tucked him into bed.

Moondae weighed the option of sneaking out and then thought about the heartbreak Ahyeon (who insisted he just be called hyung) would experience after doing so much to get him to rest in the first place and didn't have the heart to do it.

He wasn't lying when he said Ahyeon was dazzling, his smiles were something out of a fairytale and it made Moondae feel a little unworthy to be the sole recipient of it. How Seon Ahyeon didn't debut in the previous life, his negative attribute aside, was something he'd never understand. As a data pal, he'd seen worse idols on stage than the single performance he's seen from Ahyeon - then again, what would he know? He just did the filming, he wasn't a fan.

Still, he was expecting people to care a little bit about Moondae but Ahyeon's gentleness had him feeling a little like he was dropped into the deep end of a pool. Half of him felt like he didn't deserve it, this was Moondae's body and the person who needed it most wasn't around to experience it. The other half of him just feels warm in a way he hasn't been in over a decade.

This, he thinks as he sits for breakfast all the while Ahyeon continuously piled rice onto his plate, was going to take some time to get used to.

"I don't think I can finish all of this, hyung," Moondae starts dubiously, poking at the mound of food on his plate. "I don't think anyone could really."

"What are you talking about? Ha, this was basically an appetizer when I was your age! How do you expect to grow if you eat like a bird?"

And then there was the Lee Sejin problem.

Ignore the fact that he may or may not be the supposed drug dealer to come out of Idol Inc. sometime in the future - no, the real issue was that he was fucking annoying.

"I eat enough Lee Sejin-hyungnim," Moondae replies with a face that partially hides his murderous intent. "But please, I would love to hear more stories about the old days. Did you really not have running water back then?"

Ahyeon hides a smile behind his hand as Sejin's face falls into a dramatic moue, turning his head to hide himself behind his fingers.

"Just a baby but what a poker face to hide such a little shit, who raised you? Politicians?" Sejin moans, pretending to sob.

Moondae can't help the automatic flinch and frown that drops onto his face; he tries not to feel too hurt since Lee Sejin couldn't possibly know. Thankfully, Ahyeon attracts all the attention so no one can see just how much that innocuous little sentence affected him.

"Lee Sejin-nim!" Ahyeon scolds, reaching over to cover Moondae's ears. "Watch your language around minors, please!"

More importantly, Moondae doesn't know why that in particular made him react so much. Gunwoo's parents have been dead for a decade now, he mourned and moved on. Sure, he hasn't felt the same since they passed, but that was normal, they were his parents and they left the world in such a traumatic way. It's not because of their deaths that he wasn't able to make substantial relationships, no, that was just Gunwoo.

"Ahyeon-ahyeon, we're the same age dude, just refer to me casually," Sejin waves off Ahyeon's reply with a flapping hand. "You make me feel old when you call me '-nim', it's almost worse than when the little tyke in your arms starts sassing me."

Lee Sejin might be annoying but he was a good distraction from his too-morbid-for-breakfast thoughts.

"Hyung, please ignore this clearly addled senior citizen," Moondae says seriously. "He must be confused, he really thinks you two are the same age."

Moondae is too slow to dodge Sejin's next move and suddenly, he's being held in the air with Sejin's hands under each arm and rapidly swung around in the middle of the employee cafeteria.

"Everyone! Everyone please, excuse me! This is my child, Park Moondae," Sejin declares to the room at large. "I apologize in advance if he bites any of you, he only looks mildly rabid but I assure you I've gotten him vaccinated so he's safe to be around and handle."

"You giant motherfucker."

Moondae spends the next minute proving that statement wrong and Sejin goes around for the next several days showcasing the bite mark on his face with a glee that has Moondae feeling like he really was the ultimate loser coming out at the end of it all.

Chapter Text

Moondae was starting to regret all his life choices - maybe dying was still a viable option?

"I'm so sorry!" Choi Wongil wails into his shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of Moondae's neck. "I know, I'm such a terrible person b-but I was so so so jealous that Coach Mudie liked you better!"

"Wongil-hyung, it's okay. I'm not mad at you," Moondae soothes awkwardly, wondering if patting the sobbing boy's back was the correct action. "I was just worried about you. Coach Mudie doesn't like me better anyway, she's just trying to create drama for the show."

It was a little lie, sure, but who would find out? Wongil stiffens in his arms and then descends into another round of unholy crying.

"That's even worse! You should be so mad at me!" Wongil sobs, somehow managing to hold him even tighter than before. "I've been avoiding you and ignoring you every time you tried to say hi, and- and basically slapped you in the face when you asked me if I wanted to join you for breakfast. Why don't you hate me?"

Wongil has been crying in his arms for seven and a half minutes; Moondae has been keeping track since this is the longest someone has ever touched him and he doesn't know how to ask Wongil to get away from him because he was feeling like he was breaking out into hives from all the close contact, but in a kind way. There's also this: he didn't know what Wongil was talking about until a few moments ago.

Yes, Wongil had been a little distant for the past week despite being extremely buddy-buddy those first few days. But he figured he needed some space after a few tense vocal sessions together where Coach Mudie would heap praises onto Moondae and then lecture Wongil in the next breath. Looking back at those moments objectively, it was a brutal and ineffective way to teach someone and even when Moondae had tried to (awkwardly) comfort him after the first lesson, Wongil just gave him a strained smile before disappearing.

Moondae wanted to give him space to breathe, he knew the pride of children and how easy it was to get swept up in dramatics, but he wasn't too worried. He had assumed everyone knew not to take the coaches' words seriously since Idol Inc. was, first and foremost, a TV show.

They were all products in a factory line getting pressed and formed into little consumable stories for the public to take in and spend money on. Did some of the coaches come into this show with genuine intentions to help the next generation of stars? Maybe, but that didn't change the fact that this was also a job that needed requisite tasks fulfilled. One of the major tasks was to create drama and tension whenever possible - that was what sold the best, after all.

But Moondae, for all that he thought he was above it all and more aware of what the show runners were aiming for, forgot that while everyone saw them as objects, the kids themselves were doing their damndest to make their dreams come true.

And that's why he can't just brush off Wongil. Choi Wongil who was actually only 18 alone without a company to fall back on and under immense pressure from constantly being derided by their coach unlike Park Moondae who hid a 22 year old soul that already went through a hellish enlistment and couldn't fathom anything worse.

There's not much time in between them in the grand scheme of things, but Ryu Gunwoo has lived a different life than most and can acknowledge that his circumstances made him a bit indifferent and too pragmatic. Wongil asking to speak to him in private, dragging him into an empty stairwell, before immediately falling into his arms sobbing and apologizing had been a cold splash of reality.

"I'm sorry," Moondae says quietly, hands still awkwardly patting Wongil on the back. "I didn't notice you were struggling that much, Wongil-hyung."

"Don't apologize to me," Wongil cries even louder and it's a wonder that no one has come to check on them with his voice echoing in the stairwell like loudspeakers. "Why are you apologizing to me?! I'm the one in the wrong here, stupid! Stupid Moondae-yah!"

"Why am I stupid?" Moondae isn't pouting, he refuses to. "It's my fault for not paying attention to how you were feeling."

"You are stupid," Wongil sobs, tears running from his eyes like a faucet. "I'm trying to say sorry and you're not listening. I was being a bad friend and you're not even taking me seriously."

God above, help Park Moondae survive the circuitous emotions of children. He tries to tell himself that he's just acting his body's (teenage and petty) age when he starts arguing back.

"You're stupid," Moondae accuses back, his hands finally stop awkwardly patting Wongil's back to fist at the shirt tied around his waist instead. "I'm trying to tell you that I noticed that coaches were being too hard on you but I just let it happen because I didn't think you'd take them seriously."

"And I'm saying that you aren't responsible for me! I'm responsible for myself!" And Wongil's voice directly in his ear reaches levels of shrill not known to man until that day. "I know it's all for the show but they were so mean to me and nice to you so I just started wanting to be terrible to you. I wanted you to feel as bad as I did but you never did and you were still kind to me and-and-and!"

"Oh," Moondae says, feeling a little dumb. "Is that what those weird comments were about?"

He had gotten used to how Wongil was exceedingly sweet to him that the backhanded compliments had just sounded like compliments until that very moment. Moondae feels himself get a little flush as he remembers how he would politely thank Wongil whenever he'd say something kind about his singing and offer a stilted compliment in return. God, he must've sounded like such a sarcastic little shit. He hoped none of that would come out on TV.

"Yeah, and then you even started complimenting my voice and saying I've been doing better when we both know that's not true and I felt like I was kicking a puppy," Wongil sniffs. "That's why you're stupid. You're too nice, you're going to get eaten alive in this business."

"No, I'll be fine," Moondae replies, boggled. "And you have been doing better, I'm not lying."

And no, really, he'd be fine. This was one tiny oversight - he just wasn't expecting to have to parse through the dramatics of interpersonal relationships this early, he had his 'you have to debut or you're going to fucking die' horse blinders on.

"You won't," Wongil insists, sounding stressed and clutching even tighter to Moondae. "Someone is going to end up kidnapping you or something, you're too naive! That's why I have to apologize. I need to look out for you."

"Oh my God," Moondae mutters under his breath before clearing his throat. "Okay, fine, I give up. I can take care of myself but you're forgiven as long as you accept my apology too."

"Fine," Wongil pouts, digging his chin into Moondae's clavicle. "You're forgiven."

Moondae would truly like for this to end already, they've been hugging for nearly ten minutes and he's not sure his immune system can take it. The feeling of hives has transformed into a curling heat in the middle of his chest and he thinks that may be a precursor to a heart attack.

"Awww, see Ahyeon-ahyeon? You didn't need to worry - they're friends again!"

"S-sejin! Stop it, they'll hear you!"

Moondae peeks over Wongil's shoulder to see how many floors were below him, he could probably throw himself down there and make it easier for everyone.

Lee Sejin makes it a point to coo over him and his newly repaired(?) friendship(?) with Wongil for the rest of the night. Moondae can't even do anything about it since he was going out of his way to help teach him the opening song's choreography. Moondae has to think of it as a transaction so he doesn't commit a crime; some light teasing for his continued survival should be an easy trade but Lee Sejin made it so hard to be grateful.

"Oh my God, and the way you two just held onto each other for so long!" Sejin laughs, clutching at his stomach. "It was so adorable I almost threw up."

Ahyeon does his best to mitigate most of the psychological embarrassment-based damage Moondae has been receiving for the past hour but he ends up mostly fluttering around like an anxious butterfly before settling into teaching mode.

"Okay, now for this part, you want to make sure you land on the balls of your feet and shift your weight forward so you don't lose your balance," Ahyeon guides gently. "Yes! Like that, good job!"

"And Wongil-ah, his face! I've never seen anything so sad in my life," Sejin cackles. "You two looked like two kittens in a box in the rain. Moondae-moondae, don't worry - your crying face is cute too."

"I didn't cry."

God damn it, there goes his silent streak. Moondae whips around, fists doing their automatic clench in Lee Sejin's presence even as he turns back to Ahyeon to follow along the last bit of the choreography he needs to get down before tomorrow's evaluation.

"Hah! Got you, you little shit," Sejin grins, ruffling Moondae's hair with a force strong enough to nearly topple him over and he has to catch himself against the mirrored wall with a hand. "Oops, sorry, too much?"

"Lee Sejin-hyungnim," Moondae says sweetly, expression dark under Sejin's hand. "Please let me go, you're going to hurt me."

"Oh, Moondae-yah!" Ahyeon nearly bowls over Sejin just like Moondae wanted in his haste to check him over. "Lee Sejin, please be careful! Evaluations are tomorrow and what if you accidentally injure Moondae and he couldn't participate?"

Ahyeon turns a scolding expression so effective on Sejin that he nearly melts, shoulders drooping so low he loses almost all his height advantage. Moondae was vindictively amused even if he was also insulted that apparently Ahyeon thought he had the constitution of cotton candy. When Sejin's posture starts to resemble a slumped shrimp, Moondae puts him out of his misery with a tug on the hem of Ahyeon's shirt.

"Hyung, so this part where it ends on a kneel," Moondae starts, miming the motion. "How do I get into that position without it hurting my knee? It looks awkward if I do it slowly."

Moondae ignores the grateful look Sejin throws him. If he were really thankful, he'd stop fucking around and start teaching him so he doesn't look like a stiff idiot tomorrow. He had a scant few hours left to save his life and with Ahyeon firmly orbiting his every move, he hasn't had the chance to sneak out and practice in earnest.

The two of them ran him ragged for a few hours but still made him stop before dinner and it felt like a waste of time and a skill both when he couldn't bring himself to wiggle out of bed and back into the practice room for the last week and a half. That ended tonight though, it wasn't an exaggeration to say that it was his last chance to bump his dance stats out of dismal and into passably average.

He tamps down the automatic guilt as he heads back to the practice room unencumbered and gets ready for a long night. Moondae is just on the verge of passing out when his dance skill finally tips into something mildly respectable. It won't be enough to get him all the way to the end, for obvious reasons, but now he won't be humiliated and truly, after the harrowing two weeks he's had, that's all he could ask for.

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 8
Title: None

Singing: A-
Dancing: C-
Looks: A-
Charm: B-

Traits: Infinite Potential

Skills: Sleep Is For The Dead! (D) / 0:32 remaining

"Finally, thank fuck."

Moondae barely manages to curl onto the world's tiniest couch before passing out.

Chapter Text

Evaluation day is only mildly painful. Sure, it got tiring to watch over seventy people try and fail to perform the opening theme to their show but it was also a great way to see who and who wasn't competition.

Moondae may be more sympathetic to everyone's struggles post-argument(?) with Wongil but he has his own literal life to be concerned about. He would only start worrying about others once he was out of the danger zone.

"Are you nervous?" Ahyeon whispers at his side, eyes never leaving the stage even as his leg bounces up and down.

"No, I'm feeling okay," Moondae replies quietly out of the corner of his mouth. "Is hyung nervous?"

"A little," Ahyeon lies, a tremulous smile on his face that spells a verging panic attack. "Just a little."

Moondae looks away as the most recent participant trudges off the stage with unstable steps and tears in his eyes to peer at Ahyeon through his lashes. He should say something. He wants to say something. It's probably out of gratitude for the time Ahyeon spent teaching him but he feels like he owes the older boy some comfort. He didn't know what he did to endear himself to him but Moondae had never felt both so uncomfortable and at ease with someone in his life.

He's not used to being taken care of; even when his parents were still around, he was always left to his own devices. He was an independent kid who wanted to stand on his own and not rely on anyone and his parents understood and respected that. It wasn't like his parents didn't love him enough or weren't close with each other - he loved them so much that it felt like he was buried at their side the day he laid them to rest - but they may have been too overenthusiastic when trying to accommodate him.

At some point, Gunwoo had forgotten what it was like to ask for help. At some point, he didn't know if he could.

But Ahyeon was there even if he didn't need or want anything. He wasn't cloying or overbearing, (he did hover a little but that was probably Moondae's fault, it was hard to remove that terrible first impression as he laid hungry and overworked on the wooden floor in the middle of the night) he was just supportive. It was a novel experience to turn around and already have someone anticipating his needs without a word. It made Moondae both feel seen and perceived, understood but bare.

"That's okay," Moondae assures him, tugging at Ahyeon's sleeve to stop him from picking at the cuff of his sweater in a nervous tic. "I should probably be nervous because I'm still very bad at dancing despite all of your and Lee Sejin-hyungnim's efforts."

"No! It's good that you're confident," Ahyeon snaps out of his daze to turn to him, concerned. "And I told you, you've improved by a lot."

Moondae shrugs.

"If I did improve, it's only because you know the choreography perfectly," Moondae says, matter of fact. "Honestly, if you were the one coaching the beginner class, a lot more people would have performed better today. You were born to dance, hyung."

Ahyeon flushes and hides his face in his hands, it's the reddest he's gotten since the first day they met but Moondae is glad to see that lingering nervousness is gone from his body language. He's more flustered than anything and Moondae hides his smile in his fist.

"Hyung's voice is really good too," Moondae continues, ignoring how Ahyeon is starting to resemble a tea kettle boiling over, high-pitched noises and all. "You're always stable and clear from the start to the end. I think you're going to do well today."

And then, he does.

It's not as good as it could be, from his stats alone it was clear that Ahyeon's talent was just burbling under the surface of his anxiety and self doubt, but this performance was an upgrade from the one he had in his audition. There's a few delighted exclamations from the contestants and judges both and the criticisms mostly revolve around his nervous, shaky voice and equally nervous, shaky expression. Everyone can clearly see he's talented though, can see that he's a threat just waiting to come out, and that's enough for Moondae to feel like his good deed wasn't in vain.

He makes sure to clap with a polite expression on his face for the cameras and then, still with the cameras in mind, has to stop himself from smiling at Ahyeon as he makes his way off stage. Ahyeon's face melts into pure affection when he passes Moondae and before he can stop him, he takes a moment to straighten Moondae's sweater and tries to neaten up his fringe in the quick moment that the camera resets.

"You got this, Moondae-yah!" he whispers, one fist in the air and a determined expression on his face.

He leaves, practically skipping back to his seat, like he didn't just mom-ambush Moondae in front of the entire cast and crew. Moondae pretends that he's flush because he was nervous.

Moondae is a clown and a fool. 

He takes back every overconfident, arrogant thought that he could debut as he practically dies on stage, panting and overheated from performing a song that didn't even hit three minutes in run time. How did idols perform hours-long stages and concerts? He knew they worked hard but if he knew just how tiring it was, he would've charged more for his data so he could spend money on an album or something - give back a little for all their effort.

He knows he's trembling as he's resting on one (mildly bruised) knee, his hands held up in the ridiculous stock market pose. Still, from the shocked look on Coach Lee's face, he knows he exceeded their expectations and impressed them. Moondae knows that goodwill will disappear the minute he collapses though so he takes care to get up slowly and steadily, like he's just coming out of performance mode and not like his legs are a moment from giving away underneath him.

"Oh wow! Moondae-yah!" Coach Mudie says, cupping her cheeks in each hand as she fawns. "You did so well!"

"Thank you."

He makes sure to clasp his hands in front of him as he bows, deep and extra thankful. He knows he's her favorite so it wouldn't hurt to play it up a bit with her. Coach Mudie continues, bulldozing past Coach Lee opening his mouth to supply his own TV-ready quips, waving her hands in the air, excited.

"Your voice is incredibly stable, it's so impressive to see at your age," she's all smiles, practically swinging her legs in her seat. "Your vocal technique is so crisp and tight, your placements were perfect and you little sneaky guy, I heard that octave swing on the last verse! It was so tastefully done, you worked really hard!"

Let it be known that Moondae has no idea what she was talking about, he just sang without thoughts to vocal technique or ornamentation. Still he nods, trying to form his face into something shy and reserved, like a child knowingly getting caught doing a good deed.

"Thank you so much, I appreciate all your kind words Coach Mudie. I learned a lot from you."

"Oh, you flatterer!" Coach Mudie giggles, slapping at Coach Lee's shoulder with an open palm.

Admirably, Coach Lee takes the hits without any indication that it hurt and just takes up his mic and sighs, loud and reverberating in the room.

"Kid," he says, gravely. "Where the hell did that come from?"

His face transforms from a serious and dour look to an open smile and booms a laugh straight into the mic.

"Let me tell you, I never saw a more stiff dancer - like a cardboard cut out this one. But look at you," he says, gesturing at him with an open hand. "Didn't lose energy until the final moment, good job kid! How did you pull this miracle off? Have you been holding out on me?"

"Ah, thank you very much for your kind words," Moondae says, he could probably spin this to benefit him and his image. "I received a lot of help from Seon Ahyeon-hyungnim... and Lee Sejin-hyungnim. They were both patient and kind enough to take the time to teach me."

"Hey," Coach Lee protests. "Am I not kind and patient?"

"I didn't imply that." Moondae replies, bland and bowing to show it was (not really) a joke.

"You brat!"

Thankfully, Coach Lee seemed to enjoy it, laughing away from the mic so the immediate area wasn't deafened again. Youngrin takes this as a sign to finally speak and she picks up her mic, a neutral line on his lips. She considers him with a long look before smiling, soft and small.

"Good job, Moondae-ssi," she says simply, nodding. "There's room for improvement, of course, but this was impressive growth in a short amount of time. You should be proud."

And Moondae knows that she's probably not that impressed but her words, concise and simple, feels like the highest praise he's gotten all day. He smiles back, his eyes closing in helpless happiness and a relief so palpable that it has made its home in his heart, before bowing again and exits the stage with a renewed bounce in his step.

With that performance, Moondae has secured at least gold and his continued existence.

Maybe it wasn't worth his continued existence because Moondae doesn't know where it all went wrong.

He stares at the platinum pin with dead eyes and tells himself that throwing it onto the ground in an apparent fit would help no one. He doesn't want this. He shouldn't have this. He was only mildly impressive, what the fuck were the producers thinking? They probably weren't, as usual, because Moondae emphatically did not deserve this position.

"Oh my God!" Wongil cries, his little gold pin already fastened to his show uniform. "Moondae-yah! Platinum!"

Yes, thank you, Wongil - please, shout louder and let the entire block hear about his despair.

"I'm! So! Proud! Of you!" Wongil squeezes his cheeks with every exclamation before clobbering him into a suffocating hug. "My talented little dongsaeng!"

Moondae, already having suffered through hugs more violent than this after making up with Wongil, just hugs back like his lung capacity isn't being halved by Wongil's skinny arms. Also, who the fuck was he to call Moondae little? They were basically the same height and build.

He doesn't know if the producers giving him a platinum pin was out of pity or the set up to a long con where his downfall was the desired result. Either way, this innocuous thing certainly spelled trouble, the expectations were extremely high and if he didn't meet them he'd be booted out faster than he could blink. Still, he couldn't lose face here. At least, not in front of all the cameras.

"Thank you very much, hyung," he says, voice muffled in Wongil's stranglehold. "You did well, congratulations on the gold."

Wongil finally pulls away and puffs his chest out to display the gold pin, hands on his hips. Moondae gets clobbered into another hug and lets himself be carted into Lee Sejin's hold like he didn't want to die right on the spot. The cameras, oh God, the cameras.

"Our platinum baby!" Sejin laughs right into his ear. "Good job, Moondae-moondae!"

"Thank you, Lee Sejin-hyungnim," Moondae replies with the gravitas of a funeral procession, completely limp being held like a bag of groceries in the circle of Sejin's arm. "Congratulations on receiving gold, thank you again for teaching me."

"Aww," he coos, letting Ahyeon gently extract him with a single noise of concern. "So polite! Thank you~!"

"Thank you very much, Ahyeon-hyung," Moondae immediately turns to Ahyeon and lets himself be fussed over. "You should be the one receiving this after all the help you gave me."

"Nonsense," Ahyeon smiles, patting him on the head. "Your hard work is being rewarded, Moondae-yah. You deserve this."

Moondae rides the warm feeling of pride through the rest of the filming and on the bus ride home. It's hard to bring him down and even the fact that he collapsed right in the doorway of his little home doesn't phase him. When the feeling comes back to his body and before his fever got any worse, he takes a trip to the convenience store to pick up essentials in anticipation of being bed bound for the rest of his break. 

The warm feeling finally crashes and burns when he stands in front of a row of fridges and remembers one important fact: Park Moondae was only seventeen and wouldn't be able to legally drink for another two years.

Moondae thought he could handle most things this new life threw at him, but this? This bordered on cruel and unusual punishment. With gritted teeth, he grabs a soda from the middle of the shelves and trudges to check out with his medicine, groceries and the paltry substitute for a beer. He then proceeds to fall asleep for a day and a half and shiver in his bed for the next three. While not relaxing, it's a good distraction while he waits for the first teaser to air. God, he hopes for some screentime - any screentime.

He's ravenous when he finally recovers and he takes a chance to check his bank account before reluctantly splurging at what's become his mainstay restaurant. The kind waitress who gave him food on the house spots him immediately and shuffles him to his usual table with a worried twist to her lips. She grips his chin in between her calloused fingers and turns his face to either side before tutting and whipping around before she can even take his order.

It's hard not to feel a little self conscious and insulted when she just starts piling food onto his table without another word and pins him with a stare so severe when he tries to give it back that he just plops back down and starts to eat without another word. He did lose a little weight from not being able to make himself food while he was sick but he didn't look that bad, right?

"Status window." Moondae murmurs under his breath and tries to not look like he's staring off into space.

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 9
Title: None

Singing: A-
Dancing: C-
Looks: B+
Charm: B-

Traits: Infinite Potential

Skills: None

B+? Well, fuck.

Most of the staff cheer him on when he makes it a point to eat as much as possible.

He ends that night bundled in two blankets on top of his heated futon, waiting for the teaser to finally come on with his stupid soda in hand. He doesn't know how much viewership it'll get because there's no real active comeback for any of the popular groups but the chat is alive with vitriol and sarcasm. The forums are even worse, they were just hate watching at this point.

Moondae shrugs to himself; whatever, views were views. Thanks for contributing.

– idol inc? isn't that the idol show that ended with a CHEATING SCANDAL and a PREGNANCY??? producers, have you lost it. your minds, i mean. you really trust your recruits huh....

     ∟ it wasn't seyoon-ah's fault 😭😭😭 she heard everyone calling her MOTHER and thought she had to become one

          ∟ you're insane 😭

          ∟ mothered too close to the sun, i fear

∟ they're forming a boy group, they don't have to worry about that this season

     ∟ with a little hope and belief, anything is possible

          ∟ seek help.

Moondae sighed, getting comfortable against the wall as he propped his phone up on his little bed tray. Was it sad that reading absurd threads was somewhat comforting? He's had to brave more than one online cesspool for information and it was nice to know that even when his life was upturned and insane, the internet would always be worse.

– i heard the showrunners had to basically beg for agencies to send them people lol they're basically bottom of barrel kids. no one worth watching.

     ∟ idk they could surprise us

          ∟ i remember when i was this young and optimistic

– i know i'm going to hate everyone on this show, not gonna bother to watch 

     ∟ and yet bothering to comment.....interesting......🤔

Negative sentiments were pouring out from every corner and Moondae could hardly blame them. The drama of the second season truly eclipsed any of the goodwill they built in the first season. Thankfully, people were fickle and easy to forget and even Gunwoo, in the throes of mandatory service, heard all about Idol Inc.

It's an uphill battle though as the teaser starts with Youngrin apologizing on behalf of the company and the cheesy script is doing her absolutely no favors. It's lucky she's essentially universally beloved or so many people would have stopped watching.

Moondae's screentime during the choreography is short, a scant few seconds in the background since his dancing was shitty (passably shitty but still). However, as a platinum grade he was given the chance for a close up and was able to eke out a good few moments of just his face. It's strange, seeing the sad little boy Gunwoo woke up in, showcasing himself on TV.

He looks good, markedly youthful, full cheeks, big eyes and a stature that was still filling out. Moondae doesn't remember smiling but the camera catches it and his face goes from intense and focused to soft and happy. It's as out of body as it gets especially since it's not his body but Moondae looks best when he's happy, like his features were made to house joy.

– There's some really good looking members, it sucks that they're stuck on a garbage show :(

– omg stop, they're all so handsome!! can't pick a favorite now, i know the one i like the most is gonna be gone the next episode

     ∟ stop, you're triggering my trauma from last season T______T

– some truly insane faces gathered here today, perhaps i will be Seated and Watching.

     ∟ girl RUN, that's how they get you

– THE TALL ONE. THE HOT ONE. THE CUTE ONE. THE BABY. NAMES. I NEED THEM.

     ∟ they literally all have name tags on, read

          ∟ you know ilitteralcy is rampant here

               ∟ i'm aware. but girl. are you?

Here's a list of some notable contestants and their grades!

1. Cha Eugene - Platinum

With the amount of screentime he got, he's going to be the front runner. Definitely #1 material! He already feels like a storied idol, his charisma is electric and he performs so well.

2. Kim Raebin - Platinum

The talent is IMMENSE. He's already well known because he's already selling and shopping his compositions. His face is so pretty - it's so unfair, let the rest of us have a chance!

3. Ryu Chungwoo - Platinum

YES. THE viral hot archer/hot athlete everyone was obsessed with during the previous Olympics, I'm also gagged. Also if he debuts, no military service. We WON.

4. Seon Ahyeon - Gold

INSAAAAAANE FACE CARD. LETHAL. My pick, everyone heard it here first. He was mine first. AND HIS DANCING, I COULD DIE. SEON AHYEON IT'S YOU AND ME FROM NOW ON.

5. Park Moondae - Platinum

Who let this baby on stage? T___T He's so fucking cute, I just want to !!! Bite his cheeks! Participant profiles haven't been posted but he's definitely just started high school or has the babiest baby face.

---

– Cha Eugene or die.

     ∟ goddamn, do i have any other choice or were they locked in already?

– already claiming seon ahyeon, you have a good eye op but also shut the fuck up

– wait, there are two lee sejin's how are we going to tell them apart

     ∟ well you see, they are two different people. hope this helps ❤️

– me: just watching this teaser when park moondae shows up
i can't believe i'm a single mother all of a sudden? park moondae, i'm raising you from now on.

     ∟ REAL like that's my precious child on stage? i love him?

Okay, he's taking everything back. The internet was a demonic place full of weirdos and freaks. He did not feel comforted and he definitely wasn't feeling embarrassed by everyone's seemingly warm reception of Park Moondae. He also definitely doesn't keep scrolling and reading through any post that mentioned his name. He wasn't a fucking narcissist after all.

10:12 WE'RE GOING TO THE FUCKING MOON FOR MOONDAE, START SAVING FOR STOCKS [11]

10:11 Park Moondae owns my entire wallet [39]

10:09 Moondae!!! A cutie pie!!! I need to know everything about him!! [22]

10:05 Please tell me the name of the cute little guy, the one that shows up at 1:14 [54]

10:02 Everyone please be aware, Park Moondae is my child. I will not hesitate. [107]

Moondae locks his phone and buries his face into the warm blankets, feeling a little lightheaded. He's grateful that people liked him off looks alone but also he's apprehensive because what if their preconceived image of him is completely destroyed by his incongruent personality? What if that initial interest disappears the moment who he is really is revealed?

Barring the fact that he's actually 22, he knows that he's not like other kids his age. Lee Sejin had called him a solemn little gentleman too many times for him not to be aware that he can be a little too blank and off putting. But he can't change who he is, not even at the cost of his life. He just hopes that they're blinded by the cute face (cuter now that he's gained some of the weight back) and would forgive everything else.

What was supposed to be his final chances of relaxation during his short break was quickly turning into an existential spiral. He needs to shut his brain off and get some rest, that's the only way he'd come to some kind of conclusion instead of thinking himself into a crisis.

Moondae is just about to fall asleep when the roulette wheel shows up, it's bright as hell and has the unfortunate consequence of getting rid of his sleepiness. He spins it without much expectation.

He wants to punch a wall the next moment but can't risk losing his security deposit. He doesn't know why he even bothers, with his shit luck and all - honestly, he should have just saved it for the next morning. He won't be able to sleep now.

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 9
Title: None

Singing: A-
Dancing: C-
Looks: A-
Charm: B-

Traits: Infinite Potential

Skills:

Who Could Say No To That Face? [C]
Passive Skill
Your words will be a little more convincing as long as you act cute!

Chance of activation: 30%

Yeah, that's not fucking happening.

Chapter Text

Moondae stifles a yawn as he keeps his head bowed, ever polite and deferrent, especially around the cameras. Wongil is still talking in that matter-of-fact tone that he drops into when he thinks Moondae is being stupid or naive (it's something he's heard a shocking amount of times, he doesn't agree obviously, but he and Wongil were having issues seeing eye to eye recently).

"Are you listening to me, Moondae-yah?" Wongil cuts himself off mid-lecture, arms crossed tight in front of him. "At the end of the day, this is still a competition. We all need to be greedy for parts, that includes you."

"Yes, yes," Moondae replies on the borderline of a whine and trying to catch anyone's gaze to save him from this conversation and Wongil's neverending nagging. "But you said that it hurts to do and I don't want you to strain and do something dangerous to your voice. I don't think it's wrong to give you one of my parts if I'm taking one of yours. It's only fair."

"That's besides the point," Wongil says with a scoff, taking Moondae's face in his hands to make serious eye contact. "You're the main vocalist, stupid! The chorus is the highlight of the song, we should have the better vocalist take care of it."

"...Not stupid."

Wongil huffs but drops his face and turns to pout at the mirrored wall; he's learned that Wongil is especially cunning and it shows when he deliberately angles his face so Moondae can still see every petulant inch of his expression. He has to hold back a tired sigh. They've been at this, on and off, for the past week. During the first practice when they all arranged their parts, Moondae - out of the kindness of his entire soul and generosity of his entire being - offered Wongil the chorus for the bridge since it was out of his vocal range.

If he had known it would've led to a tirade about protecting the integrity of his position and defending his pride as a vocalist and so on, he would've just shut up and let Wongil strain himself to death. Whatever, that's what he gets for being nice.

He had been adamant that Moondae keep at least one of the choruses, practically aghast at Moondae easily giving up his lines. Apparently, it only fed to his incorrect belief that Moondae was some kind of naive saint who would get gobbled up by the ruthless entertainment machine.

"Kids, kids," Lee Sejin, recently dubbed Keunse, cuts in for the fourth time that day. "Please, for the love of god, come to an agreement before I start swinging both of you around the room by your ankles."

"Lee Keunse-hyungnim," Moondae starts, staring up at him with big imploring eyes. "Please tell Wongil-hyung to shut up and deal with it, it'd be impolite coming from me since I'm younger than him but since you're so so so much older it should be appropriate."

Wongil hides a giggle behind a cough and bites down on his cheek, trying not to break out of his pouty state. Moondae knows he's gotten him though when Wongil reaches over and pinches him on the side, if Moondae reaches over and pinches him back that's their business. Keunse holds his head in his hands and muffles a groan, clearly regretting becoming leader of the group of clowns he was stuck with for the first team match.

"Both of you are so lucky you're cute," he sighs, hands on his hips. "Wongil-ah, you're taking the middle and last chorus. Moondae-yah, first and the bridge. And this discussion is over now, if I hear either of you start again, I'm pulling out the big guns."

"Please don't." Moondae whispers desperately, already knowing what was coming.

"Yeah, I'm talking about these guns," and then to Moondae's endless horror and mortification, he flexes, his t-shirt sleeves rolled up around his shoulders and his arms tensing to show the toned muscles there. "Hey, stop leaning away from me - I know you're just jealous!"

"Dear god," Wongil mutters out of the corner of his mouth, clutching Moondae around the waist and trying to hide behind him. "I hope we're not that cringe when we get old."

"As long as we stay clear of him and his bad influence, I think we'll be okay." Moondae replies quietly, patting at Wongil's hands on his middle.

The atmosphere in the practice room is leagues ahead of how it was at the start of this mission. No one really knew how to deal with the shock of being assigned a girl group song. Well, Moondae welcomed the challenge but everyone was a little disheartened especially when they had the herculean task of retrofitting a fairy-concept song to something more accessible. Compared to the performance-ready track the other team received, they had so much work to do just to get to the starting line.

Everyone was tense and frustrated but had to hide it from the cameras to avoid any editing pitfalls which only made everything even more intense. Everyone, even the perpetually good natured Keunse, looked like a bottle about to explode under the pressure. The novelty of actually being able to do a horror concept definitely cleared the air, it was nice to see how relaxed everyone had gotten.

Everyone except Ahyeon, that is. Coach Lee had always been needlessly harsh but implying that Ahyeon was regressing in quality and talent and would be the reason the team failed was downright evil. Moondae almost said something then and there but Ahyeon's pale, almost scared face stopped him in his tracks. Saying something now would just throw Ahyeon under the mercy of the TV edit and he didn't need that on top of Coach Lee's vitriol.

Moondae had tried to speak to Ahyeon about it several times but nothing seemed to work - Ahyeon would just get flustered and leave the conversation as fast as possible with a series of increasingly terrible excuses. If it wasn't clear that those careless words affected him deeply by his disposition alone,, his dwindling stats said it all. That's the only reason why Moondae seeks Ahyeon out and corners him after days of seeing the bare minimum of his once-hovering teammate.

For the competition, you see. That's all it was.

Moondae had been tracking Ahyeon's schedule in a friendly, concerned teammate way for the past week and quickly found that Ahyeon would immediately go back to the practice room after dinner and wouldn't leave until well after lights out. It was reminiscent of how Moondae was that first week but he was actually succeeding in dancing himself to death because no one could convince Ahyeon to take a break.

Moondae has an easy solution to this pickle though, he's surprised he hadn't thought to do it earlier. Moondae waits until the facility's lights go on standby and for the rest of his dorm to fall asleep. Keunse tries to cajole Ahyeon into resting but Ahyeon shakes his head with his lips pressed together tight and leaves with another terrible excuse. 

He lays awake and wired for most of the night, listening to the cacophony of snores of several exhausted men when Iljoon, the nightowl of the bunch, finally falls asleep. Moondae peeks into several practice rooms before he finally spots Ahyeon and sneaks in as quietly as he can. He manages to open and close the door, lock it but it's when he jams a chair under the handle, to make it even harder for Ahyeon to somehow escape, that he's finally spotted.

"Moondae...Moondae-yah?" Ahyeon's confused voice, faint and panting, comes from behind him as he fiddles with the door.

He ignores him for the moment in favor of tying a towel around the top rung of the metal chair and door knob and then ties another towel around that. It may be a fire hazard but Moondae would be damned if Ahyeon made his escape before he could fix everything. He whips around when he's fully locked them into the room and then stomps over to Ahyeon. The clear discomfort on Ahyeon's face has him pausing mid stride and his once confident steps turn into meek little shuffles until he's a foot away from Ahyeon and not looking him in the eyes.

Fuck, what the hell was he thinking? He looked insane. He just locked the two of them in a room together, how was that conducive to any conversation let alone a tough one like this? He opens his mouth to explain and apologize but his stupid brain trips over itself.

"Are you mad at me?"

He wishes someone would bust through the door and knock him unconscious, this was so fucking embarrassing. Was he an actual child? Are you mad at me? He's furious at himself.

"What? No, no! I'm not mad at you," and Ahyeon sounds frantic. "Why would you ever think that?"

"You don't speak to me anymore," Moondae swallows hard and keeps his head ducked. "If I was too presumptuous and pushy these past few days, I sincerely apologize."

Moondae bows and tries not to let the nerves overtake him.

"I hope I didn't cause you to feel any additional stress from always prodding," Moondae continues when the silence grows long and stifling; he still can't look at Ahyeon, like there was a physical weight on the back of his neck. "I just wanted to help you after all you did to help me."

If this silence goes on for any longer, Moondae is going to start physically melting into the floor so he will stop running his mouth. Why was this so nerve racking? He came in with a clear plan. He practically wrote out a script while he was laying in bed. He knew what he needed to do, but why, when faced with Ahyeon's possible anger or frustration, does he slip up?

"And ah, if you give me a moment I can let you out. Sorry. For locking us in. I apologize." 

The last thing he expects to hear is Ahyeon's laugh. It breaks the silence like a thunderclap and it almost makes Moondae flinch if he wasn't so wound up and ready for Ahyeon to just start laying into him for being nosy and so forward about his business. He chances a look up when the laughing doesn't seem derisive, just soft and low and airy. Ahyeon claps a hand over his mouth at his look before dropping it and his eyes are brimming with tears, but he's smiling like Moondae just gave him the world and not like he did the conversation equivalent of bulldozing into a glass house.

Ahyeon closes the distance between them in a single step and reaches out. Moondae flinches despite himself but Ahyeon just puts a hand on top of his head before sliding it to the back of his neck and gently guides him to rest his head against Ahyeon's collarbone. Moondae lets this happen without much thought and closes his eyes and breathes. He forgets how tall Ahyeon is sometimes, he seems so set on taking up as little space as possible that it's a shock to remember that he has over 10cm of height on him.

His arms come up on either side of Ahyeon's waist and he holds the hem of his shirt in between his thumbs and forefingers, unsure of where it's okay to touch and hold when hugging someone. Wongil and Keunse always reach for him first, he's used to easing his way into whatever hold they have him in but he's the one going for it this time and it feels increasingly uncomfortable.

He must be doing something right because Ahyeon wraps his arms around his shoulders and he feels totally encompassed in his width. Moondae expects to feel caged and restrained but he just feels warm, like he's in a little bubble of protection, and he can feel when his shoulders finally drop and the tense line in his spine give way.

"I'm sorry," Ahyeon murmurs into his hair, clutching at Moondae even closer. "I must've worried you. I just didn't want to let the team down."

"No, you don't have to say sorry. Coach Lee wasn't very kind," Moondae echoes Ahyeon's own words back to him from when they first met. "I'm sorry, I wanted to say something to him because he was so wrong but I didn't want the producers to take advantage of your situation."

"No, no," Ahyeon soothes, the hand on his nape reaching up to smooth the hair back from his forehead. "You did nothing wrong, Moondae-yah."

"And I also want to apologize for ambushing you," Moondae continues, pulling away and looking up at Ahyeon. "I didn't even consider if you wanted help in the first place. I'm sorry for going about things my way and doing... All of this."

He gestures to the combination of furniture and fabric that's keeping them in the room. Ahyeon stifles another laugh and drags him back into a tight hug.

"It's okay," Ahyeon soothes, and it's just like him to fuck up so bad that he was the one being comforted instead of the other way around. "It's okay. I know you were just trying to be a good teammate, Moondae-yah."

Moondae stills.

"Um," he says, not even wanting to address it out of sheer humiliation - had he been reading too much into Ahyeon and his friendliness all along? "I didn't do it for the team's sake, I did it because you're my f-friend."

Moondae just sounded like the world's most desperate loser, he didn't even have Ahyeon's contact information and all of a sudden they were friends? He wracks his brain for a way to bail out of his embarrassing mess. He briefly considers passing out on the spot.

Ahyeon lets out a quiet little gasp, pushing away from their hug to hold Moondae at arm's length, fingers shaking as he grips him by the shoulders. His eyes are wide and shocked before melting into a smile so sweet that Moondae's teeth ache. Amidst the panic and mortification both, Moondae also takes the time to wonder what his life would've been like if he had a face as good looking as Ahyeon's; it'd probably be way easier to debut, that was for sure.

Ahyeon clobbers him into a hug that feels like Wongil just body slammed him and he chokes, patting frantically at Ahyeon's back. The pressure lessens the tiniest bit and he releases air like a crushed squeaky toy, high and thin. God, and the hits keep coming.

"Thank you, Moondae," Ahyeon says warmly into his hair. "Thank you. You're a good friend."

"I didn't do anything," Moondae mutters, deliberately avoiding Ahyeon's soft gaze. "I knew you would've been fine on your own."

"No, I would've been in my head the entire time," Ahyeon confesses, finally letting go and stepping away to give Moondae and himself space. "I would have spiraled and started thinking and overthinking like I always do."

Moondae stays quiet, letting Ahyeon's quiet voice fill the space. He's holding his arms in front of him, crossed tight like he's trying to protect himself.

"I thought I was better - I was definitely doing better," Moondae feels the weight of his sigh as Ahyeon practically slumps in place. "But Coach Lee, what he said, it was like everything I've ever told myself and I was back to where I started. It's sad, isn't it? How it just takes a few words can affect me so badly."

"It's not," Moondae wants to hold him again, wants to circle his arms around Ahyeon to make him feel as safe and warm as he always made Moondae feel. "Hyung, can I be honest with you?"

"Yes."

Ahyeon's voice is tight and afraid but he still allows it, still trusts Moondae despite his fears.

"You're very mean to yourself," Moondae says bluntly. "Do you really think of yourself that way or is that what you were made to believe by others?"

It's a roundabout way of asking the topic they've both been tiptoeing around. Moondae doesn't know if it was his peers or worse, his family, who had damaged Ahyeon's psyche but either way, it's clear that he's repeating something that's been hammered into his head. Moondae doesn't want to believe it's his family, not when Ahyeon's phone background is a very sweet photo of him and his parents in front of a sprawling garden, but he knows better than to assume.

No one would assume sweet-faced Moondae hid such darkness but it was easy to read between the lines of his suicide note that he hadn't had a good time at school. One of the first things Gunwoo did when he woke up as Moondae was to gather as much information, official documents were unearthed, transcripts were requested and he managed to log back into Moondae's texting apps.

Moondae had three numbers saved on his phone: his mother, his father and a single classmate, but he had thousands of texts from random numbers. His messages with his parents were simple and sweet, the usual conversations with parents about dinners and funny little occasions at work and school. Every other message was filled with threats, mocking and smug hatred, and several of them were asking when he was finally going to bite the bullet and end his life.

It was never ending, a long list of strangers acting like Moondae was lower than even the lowest life form, it was horrific. Gunwoo, who had always been alone but never ostracized, felt sick to his stomach scrolling through every single message with shaking hands. Some logs dated back months, all of them contextless words of abuse hurled near daily. Gunwoo was surprised and so fucking proud that Moondae held out so long before dropping out.

So he knew better than anyone that it was never just words.

"I-I-I don't," Ahyeon stutters. "I'm not sure- I'm not sure what you mean."

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," Moondae assures, a small smile on his face. "I know it's hard but Ahyeon-hyung, I think you're the strongest person I know. You just keep getting back up and fighting even when you think the worst of yourself. I think that's who you really are, not whatever bullshit Coach Lee has been spouting."

"Language, Moondae-yah," Ahyeon scolds but there's a smile fighting its way onto his face. "I'm- I'm. I don't. Hmm."

Ahyeon stops himself, dropping his arms and his hands fisted at his sides. He looks at the floor, practically trembling as he takes Moondae's words in.

"Hmm," Ahyeon repeats to himself, a quizzical look on his face. "You- Moondae-yah, you. You're very smart. Thank you. Just- just, thank you."

Moondae isn't embarrassed this time and he reaches out and hugs Ahyeon of his own volition, arms around his waist and anchoring and grounding them both. Neither of them get much sleep that night but Moondae doesn't need to see Ahyeon's status window to know that his mindset is on a slow crawl to a healthier place and that's all he could really ask for.

He gets it. He gets it now.

Moondae doesn't know if it was because it was a real stage with the full production, an audience and a camera recording every move but being on stage was an adrenaline rush like no other. He wishes he could just blame the rush of brain chemicals making him feel this way but no, he felt exhilarated.

He was sweating and exhausted, practically limp against the nearest wall, but he wants to turn around and do it all over again. It's almost shocking how fun it was, despite the hard work and the literal blood, sweat and tears, he had fun. Moondae looks across the room and is glad to see he's not the only one riding this high as everyone is catching their breaths and exhausted, sprawled out across the backstage floor but grinning and overcome.

The calls for an encore are still ringing in his ears and he wants to - it was just about survival for the longest time but he understands, just a little now, how being an idol could be someone's dream despite the pitfalls and the scandals and trouble and stress.

"That was amazing," Wongil breathes next to him and Moondae stifles a laugh when his eyes get wide and teary, his lower lip already wobbling. "That was- that was so much fun."

The tears fall then and Moondae reaches out and uses his sleeve to dab it away before it ruins his makeup; Wongil looks at him, shocked, and Moondae startles when he starts to cry.

"M-moondae-yah!" he wails, grabbing Moondae's cheeks in his hands and squeezing.

Oh god, what did he just do to warrant this. He hears Keunse before he realizes he's behind them, his big and booming laugh practically drowns out the cheers and he has most of the team in a big hug before anyone is aware of what's going on.

"I'm so proud of this team!"

It feels a little like suffocating in a closet full of heavy winter coats as everyone towers around him and Wongil in a group hug. The camera clearly captures all of this so Keunse could've been putting up an act to get more screen time but he also seems really affected by the amazing audience response their performance just got so Moondae will let his suspicions subside. For now.

Everyone, including the reticent Lee Sejin A, offers words of encouragement and thanks and it's all very touching, truly, but Moondae just wanted to go to bed. In fact, it was two hours until 10pm and if filming the results took any longer than that then they would have to do it without a good handful of participants including the current 1st place holder. A producer seems to remember that after looking at Wongil tearfully clinging to Moondae and glances at his watch, blanching, and hastens to set up for the next stage.

They sit through the final performance of the night as calmly as they can manage in a post-stage high, with Moondae only cringing a little at the lukewarm reception it gets. He can feel the secret relief that they weren't the ones to have to perform and stand out with a VTIC song run through the group and he agrees - way too much trouble, especially in the game of comparisons. They weren't even rookies yet, it was like forcing a teddy bear to fight in a cage match against a real bear.

There's a low thrum of pity through the rest of the night, especially when the other team has actual participants sobbing over their monumental loss. Moondae sends his apologies but he really wanted to live, it wasn't personal. The entire crew shares a sigh of relief when filming comes to a close five minutes to their deadline and Moondae is impressed despite himself. They were bloodsucking culture vultures who were using children's hopes and dreams to prop up their farce of a company, but they were efficient at least.

Moondae marks performance as another success as he packs his bag the following morning and resolves to deal with the skill roulette issue when he gets home. He really doesn't want to go through it again, not after his shit results the last time, but sounding like the justification of every gambler on the planet - what if this time was different?

"Moondae-moondae," Keunse's voice calls out from behind him. "Hey kid!"

"Ah," Moondae bows with his backpack in hand. "Lee Keunse-hyungnim, have you finished packing?"

"Yep," he says, turning to show his backpack. "I just wanted to stop by and ask you for one- no, two favors."

Moondae looks at him warily and chances a step back, just in case. Keunse looks at him like he just slapped him across the face and starts waving his hands in front of him, frantic.

"Oh my god, you're the most suspicious little guy on the planet," he sighs, hand on his forehead. "It's nothing bad, you're killing me here. Do I really come off as a bad guy?"

Yes, just a bit.

"No, not at all," Moondae lies, forcing himself to relax. "I just get wary whenever people ask for favors, that's it."

"Ahh, alright. That's not worrying at all," Sejin says, sarcastic. "Anyway, Moondae-moondae, number one: can you please, for the love of god, just call me Sejin-hyung or hyung? I might lose my mind if my name gets any longer."

"Hmm, and what's the other favor?"

Sejin laughs, shaking his head like he expected that answer.

"Give me your number, let's keep in touch!"

Moondae didn't realize that conceding here would lead to several very active group chats because if he knew that going in, he would've broken Lee Sejin's phone in half. He's gone from three contacts in his phone to almost ten in the span of one morning and he's feeling itchy again as his Kakaotalk is alive with activity and constant texts.

OCTOBERZ BOIS 👻 

Keunse
who named this chat lolololol

Iljoon
it's cute shut up

Keunse
really showing your age here, hyung
no offense LOL

Iljoon
when will u learn respect brat 🔫

Wongil
it's ok, it's only a little cringe. 🥰

Heesung
wongil-ah is being really kind, it's VERY cringe

Iljoon
U'RE ALL DEAD TO ME

Keunse
@Moondae @Ahyeon @Lee Sejin A
where you AT we need to balance the age range
iljoon-hyung is struggling in his old age all alone

Heesung
wouldn't me and moondae just bring the age average like. lower.

Keunse
no he's like a bajillion years old at heart, he only looks like a baby

Heesung
omg @Moondae FIGHT BACK

"They're so annoying," Moondae mutters as he shuffles to the left to let an older woman settle in the empty bus seat next to him. "What the hell."

Moondae's Idol Inc. Parents

Keunse (Father)
just wanted to state for the record that i didn't name this, iljoon-hyung did
you two HAVE to believe me

Same Age Fwends

Wongil
moondae-yah, if you don't answer this gc in two minutes i'm posting all our selfies together.
YES, INCLUDING THE ONE. YOU KNOW WHAT I'M REFERENCING.

Heesung
@Moondae you're getting your ass beat in this gc too 😭

Moondae
Don't you dare.
@Heesung, you're next.

Wongil
🩷

Heesung
NOT IF I DO SOMETHING FIRST

OCTOBERZ BOIS 👻

Heesung
@Keunse just so you know, moondae will reply if you threaten him
@Moondae 😽

Keunse
OH????? in that case
moondae-moondae answer in the group chat or i'll tell ahyeon what you did
i know everything 👁️👄👁️

Iljoon
i'm calling the police
we don't threaten minors!!!!!!!
esp not a group message, it leaves a paper trail!!!!

Heesung
how is there a paper trail when no one is writing anything down????

Keunse
i fear for the youth of today

Wongil
moondae-yah.......my threat still stands

Moondae
Hello.

Ahyeon
Hello everyone! And hi Moondae-yah! I know you insisted that you would be fine riding the bus back but please let me know when you get home safely. It's okay since it's the day but if filming ever ends late, my parents and I would be so happy to drive you home. I know you're old enough to travel by public transport but it would definitely make all of us feel more at ease knowing that you were dropped off at home directly. It's dangerous for anyone to travel... >Read More

Heesung
i made it home safe thanks for asking guys

Wongil
your dad literally picked you up. ofc you made it home safe.

Iljoon
ahhhh, there he goes moondae, make sure u reply to ur mom ok?

Moondae
Ha Iljoon-hyungnim, Ahyeon-hyung is not my mother.
@Ahyeon - hyung, it's okay. I'm almost home. Thank you for the offer, I appreciate it.
I'll let you know if I ever need to take you up on it.

Iljoon
brrr....anyone else feel that??? that patented moondae glare oof

Keunse
moondae-moondae, you're showing your favoritism again............

Chapter Text

Moondae has been staring at the roulette wheel for a while now. He's been weighing the pros and cons of playing this stupid game again and gives Who Could Say No To That Face? the evil eye. It's a particularly useless skill in his case, Moondae the body certainly has cute looks but Gunwoo the soul is the exact opposite of cute.

Gloomy, maybe; serious, definitely but not cute and with zero want or inclination to act cute, whatever the hell that entails. Still, he can't deny that the allure of something new in his status window is tempting. Progress had slowed dramatically once he hit level ten and only his dancing had improved infinitesimally - he could allocate the single stat point he has left there but he feels better with it remaining as an emergency option.

It's with a sigh that holds the exasperation of several lifetimes that Moondae gives in and spins the wheel. He just hopes for something less embarrassing this time, please.

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 10
Title: None

Singing: A
Dancing: C
Looks: A-
Charm: B

Traits: Infinite Potential

Available Stat Points: 1

Skills:

> Who Could Say No To That Face? [C]
v Apple Of My Eye [D]
Passive Skill
All your actions are a little more endearing!

Chance of activation: 25%

Moondae's hands shake and he wonders, for a brief exhilarating moment, if he could physically grab the status window and what it'd feel like to shatter it to pieces in his bare hands. It's such a wishy-washy description, bare bones and vague with enough infuriating implications that it almost offsets the benefit of raising his Charm stat.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Moondae closes his eyes and tries to find an inner peace that doesn't exist because his life is in shambles. He tries to look for a bright side - it'll be easier to talk to other people now that he has a 1 in 4 chance of being 'a little more endearing' in their eyes.

Which honestly wasn't a benefit for him, it just meant having to deal with even more people he already had to. Moondae's social battery was already on the verge of giving out entirely, he doesn't want to endear himself to anymore people. His phone buzzes on his bed tray then, reminding him of his main drain of energy.

Moondae's Idol Inc. Parents

Keunse (Father)
moondae-moondae
are you free today
me and ahyeon-ahyeon want to hang out 😗

Ahyeon (Mom)
Yes! We thought it would be nice to eat together before the press conference tomorrow. Please let me know your address and Lee Sejin and I can go pick you up!

Keunse (Father)
i think our kid will be able to make it on his own ahyeon-ahyeon
we gotta let him out of the nest at some point

Ahyeon (Mom)
Of course he can! But it's only polite since he's in the opposite direction from us, it would be a hassle to make him come out to meet us just for a short time and then travel all the way back by himself. Plus, it's still dangerous even if we finish hanging out before dark, we have to remember to consider his curfew after all.

Keunse (Father)
now hang on so we have to travel instead????

Ahyeon (Mom)
Lee Sejin...

Keunse (Father)
jeez ok ok, i get it i feel the disappointment
@Moondae are we going to get a reply at some point or?????

Moondae (👼)
I apologize, I can't hang out today. Thank you for thinking of inviting me.

Keunse (Father)
noooooooo but WHYYYYY

Ahyeon (Mom)
That's completely fine, Moondae-yah! Please don't apologize, this was very last minute and we forgot to consider your schedule in our excitement. We're sorry and don't worry, we can just see each other tomorrow at the press conference so please don't let this bother you.

Keunse (Father)
are you going to hang out with wongil instead
did he get to you first 🥲

Moondae (👼)
No, I have work in a few minutes. Thank you again. See you both tomorrow.

Moondae powers down his phone as he arrives at his favorite restaurant, ducking under the paper partitions and waving at the series of greetings that pour his way. He dodges a few hands that go to ruffle his hair but allows Nari to pat him on the head as he ties his apron strings twice around his waist. While Moondae's parents had left him enough to pay rent and utilities for the rest of the year, it couldn't also cover food, travel, personal and day to day costs especially now that he had Idol Inc. related expenses. Gunwoo learned to be frugal at an early age and he learned the value of a good work ethic even earlier, getting a job was an obvious conclusion.

He had been lucky to spot the little help wanted sign posted on the pillar right outside of the restaurant when he had been too lazy to cook one night. Nari, the kind waitress who treated him to free food often, was apparently the owner's daughter and had only expressed a brief shock before hiring him on the spot without another question.

"Daedae-yah~!" she coos, cupping his cheeks and pushing them together slightly. "How do you get cuter every time I see you?"

"Good afternoon, noona," Moondae says, muffled by his own face. "Thank you for the compliment."

"Let the boy go, Nari," Kyungri, her mother and the owner of the restaurant, scolds. "Hi Moondae, thanks for coming in today. One of our part-timers had to leave early."

"Of course," Moondae replies as Nari pouts but releases him, and he bows low and stays there. "Thank you so much for giving me the hours. I appreciate it."

"Stop that, silly boy," Kyungri says, waving him off with a stack of paperwork. "Go and I'll be watching to make sure you take a break this time."

Moondae knows that they're doing this out of pity - no one else would hire a kid with no experience and pay under the table, but he's grateful all the same. He actually had to negotiate his rate down regardless of the fact that it would help him immensely. His pride could only take so many blows and this was something he had to do for his peace of mind. While popular and always full, the restaurant Nari's House (named by its namesake at the age of 2 to her endless humiliation), was still a small family business with overhead costs and employees to pay.

They were taking a chance and trusting him with something more precious than a simple job waiting tables and running food. The least he could do to repay that kindness was to work hard and make sure the lunch and dinner rush ran smoothly.

"Daedae-yah, can you run this to table four?" Nari calls out, tucking her pen behind her ear.

Plus, he already had years long experience as a waiter spanning from rundown pochas in suspicious alleyways to luxury hotel restaurants. A quick four hour shift at a homey restaurant full of nice employees and sweet older customers? This was nothing, this was practically a vacation from the insane workload he had on Idol Inc.

(Meanwhile, across town another future headache for Moondae was forming:

Ahyeon-ahyeon 🤭

HUH????? a job? why does he have a JOB?
are we not busy enough with the show?

Do. Do you think he'd let me give him an allowance or something?
Is that weird? Would he be weirded out?
I'm VERY concerned?

SBNJSBSJNSKSBBJ AHHYEON-AHYEON AN ALLOWANCE?
you're never going to beat the moondae's mom allegations at this point

Allegations? 😱

Moondae was blissfully unaware of the growing crisis he had just inflicted on two people who had never had jobs in their lives.)

"Are you sure you're not tired?" Ahyeon places one hand against his forehead and then the other on his own. "You're not running a temperature are you?"

"I'm fine?" Moondae responds, boggled. "Sorry, do I look bad today? Do I look sick or something?"

"No no," Keunse assures, placing the back of his hand against Moondae's neck and on his own. "You look as precious as you always do, we're just checking. Ahyeon-ahyeon, he seems okay to me."

"Wow, I meant it as a joke but you two... You're really. Hm." Iljoon says with a considering look at the picture they're making.

Moondae empathizes with the confusion on his face because he feels the same way. Did his new skill trigger or something? Why were Ahyeon and Keunse so clingy today? They basically blocked off Wongil when he tried to tackle Moondae in his usual clobbering hug (Wongil was now on the other side of the room with Heesung both in protest and in pouting).

"How long did you work yesterday? Are you feeling okay?" Ahyeon continues to fret, tucking Moondae's hair behind his ear. "Why were you working when you knew we had a long day today?"

It should feel like he's being scolded but it sounds like Ahyeon is on the verge of tears so he mostly feels a weird pit of guilt in his stomach that has no reason to be there.

"Only six hours," the dinner rush had been longer than expected and Nari and Kyungri both cried on him when he said he'd stay to help. "And ah, for money?"

Moondae is saved from further interrogation when the producers start lining them up to start heading onto stage; he doesn't miss the loaded looks Ahyeon, Keunse and Iljoon share as they walk up and resolves to run away as fast as possible when the conference is over. That was a conversation he wanted to avoid for as long as he could.

The press conference is long and boring, the participants are basically relegated as background decorations as the judges laugh amongst themselves and answer very surface level questions about the show. Clearly, there was a moratorium on questions about the previous season since no one made it a point to bring it up. They're prompted to wave and pose every so often by the annoying MC and Moondae has to pinch himself to stay awake during the entire three hour span.  

Moondae is safe from being hounded by the weirdos in his life by Wongil quite literally secreting him away with a tug on his arm. They're both shorter than most of the contestants so they only have to pull Heesung down to crouch with them to disappear into the crowd.

"Moondae-yah," Wongil starts with a pout. "You better not hang out with Keunse-hyung and Ahyeon-hyung before you hang out with us."

"Yeah! Same age fwends should get first hang out dibs." Heesung wheedles, looking uncomfortable as he has to fold his long legs to try and stay level with them.

"Ugh, did you really say that out loud?" Wongil's look of disgust is so honest that Moondae snorts before he can stop himself. "You know what, nevermind. Moondae-yah, only we're hanging out together. We can't be seen with this one."

"Don't exclude me!" Heesung wails, holding onto both their hands and trying to drag them back before they could crawl further into the cover of the crowd. "Same age fwends or die!"

"Okay, then die."

Moondae lets himself laugh out loud this time and Wongil is smug even as he looks ridiculous crouched on the ground, in the face of Heesung's whines and cries. Okay, he'll admit it, he was a little fond of the weirdos in his life - they were entertaining.

"Ah! There he is, I found him Ahyeon-ahyeon! Come here, you little shit."

Moondae is physically turned around and he's reminded of how much height he lost when he woke up in Moondae's body when he cranes his neck all the way back to meet Keunse's unamused stare. From his position close to the ground, the older boy looks bigger and more imposing. It's more terrifying than Moondae cares to admit but thankfully, it'll never show on his face.

"Scatter!" Heesung hisses, and he takes back any feelings of fondness as both he and Wongil leap up and away from the incoming lecture.

Fucking traitors.

Moondae sighs when Ahyeon catches up and he's towered on either side by concern. He slowly gets up and prepares himself for an interrogation he wasn't sure any of them were ready for. Some apprehension must bleed into his expression or maybe Ahyeon was just way more attuned to his feelings than he thought because it's like he stops himself mid-thought, shakes his head and just dusts Moondae off with gentle hands.

Apple Of My Eye [D] activated!
(Chance of activation: 25%)

Target: Seon Ahyeon
Target: Lee Sejin (Keunse)

Target "Seon Ahyeon" finds you a little more endearing than before!
Target "Lee Sejin (Keunse)" finds you a little more endearing than before!

"Let's go," he says, a little smile on his face and emphatically avoiding the question he knows he wants to ask. "Come on."

Keunse settles on his other side, arm thrown over his shoulders and leads them out with a harried sigh. Moondae barely pays attention because truly, what the fuck was his life.

[Yeonjoo Interlude]

Kim Yeonjoo has two goals today:

1) Take as many shots of Park Moondae as she can; and
2) Finally upload on @fullmoonbaby and be officially recognized as Park Moondae's first fansite.

She didn't expect much going into the Idol Inc. showcase, she's been in similar situations before and while they were mostly a headache and a half to get through, those photos made good money. Some people liked the rookie vibe, liked how they were more raw and unpolished; supposedly, it made them seem real and human and not like the untouchable icons they'd soon become if they were lucky enough to be hit with fame.

Yeonjoo preferred more seasoned and professional idols herself, her previous ult was widely regarded as a top tier vocalist and respected by a range of experts in the field. Not that that respect held up once he was slapped with a DUI but the point was she tended to have a type. Park Moondae was not her type. He was cute, yes, insanely adorable to the point of aggression truly, but she usually gravitated towards older members - people with an older brother or cool sunbae vibe.

But Moondae's voice absolutely shook her to her core. She had forgotten what it was about idols that had gotten her so infatuated and obsessed in the first place: the theatricality, the emotion, the heart and soul embodied and injected into every note. When she heard Moondae's voice for the first time, it was like she fell back in love with music all over again.

It was the careful attention to his beat placements, the tasteful ornamentation that complimented and heightened the appeal of the original song, the nearly smooth switch from his full and round chest voice and his pure, grounded head voice, and the controlled and steady vibrato that rang out across the stage and into her lungs, taking all the air away, leaving her breathless and overwhelmed. She realized how much she missed just enjoying her favorite songs.

It was like a wake up call. It was like a realization.

And that's why she had to make sure Park Moondae debuted; finally, someone who loved music and who music loved would join the industry and make people remember why they were watching in the first place. She knew he would go far, she knew he would be the best and she would be there from the very start.

Full Moon Baby | for moondae ☾* @fullmoonbaby ・ 15m

To the moon & back.

#PARKMOONDAE #PARK_MOONDAE

[presscon1.jpg] [presscon2.jpg]

Blue Chip Stock Moondae ⬆️ @moondaeyaaah ・ 13m

replying to @fullmoonbaby

thank you for my life, queen! look at our baby <3

I'll take you to the moon @moon_dae_inc ・ 10m

replying to @fullmoonbaby

I didn't know they were friends! This trio is so so cute!

moondae for president @moon_daze ・ 5m

replying to @fullmoonbaby

look how tiney and babey he looks between sah and lsjb :( cutie patootie!
the fact that they both made cheek hearts ON MOONDAE'S CHEEKS AUUUUGHAAAA THEY'RE MY IDOL INC FAMILY!!!

8to @carvals_nu ・ 1m

replying to @fullmoonbaby

THERE'S MY SON T________________T THANK YOU FOR THE PHOTOS!!!
(also that first photo, what demon did you sell your soul to bc it's STUNNING??? the lighting, the framing, his gentle lil expression? i'm passing away?)

Later that night, after hours of careful editing and finalizing her layout, Yeonjoo sits back and watches as her follower count grows by the minute. Now that her first two goals were all set and fulfilled, it was time to focus on her third goal:

3) Do everything in her power to make sure Park Moondae debuted.

Chapter Text

Moondae begins plotting T1's downfall in the middle of monitoring the premiere. It only looks like nonsensical scribblings on an unfolded napkin but it's some truly insidious plans that will have everyone screaming, crying and begging for his forgiveness. No mercy, no chance of survivors, the building will just be rubble.

Moondae's edit on the first episode of Idol Inc. makes him look insane. 

He knew he had a good poker face but he didn't realize how blank and utterly unaffected he looked. He wasn't going to lie to himself anymore, he was nervous getting on that stage that first day. Nervous because reality finally hit him three steps away from the stage, nervous because he's never done anything remotely close to this, and nervous because his life was on the line. 

Did it show? Absolutely not. Instead, he looked nearly smug, just on the edge of arrogant and most importantly, like he wasn't there to actually be a participant. None of the footage that could possibly put him in a good light aired either, like his first meeting with Wongil or when numerous participants had come up to him to encourage him before he went on stage.

All he got was the beginnings of a fish out of water edit where he mostly looked dazed, confused or both which slowly transformed into a young upstart angle. His audition was exceedingly normal in reality, but on TV, they made it seem like he was just getting up there for shits and giggles. The silences were extended, the reactions exaggerated and the amount of times they cut back and forth between him and his equally deadpan interview was insurmountable. It was like they wanted publically to murder him.

He knew they only did it to emphasize the shock of his vocal skill in a few moments but god damn it, couldn't they have just spun it a little to the left where he was more shy and polite than a freak with no emotions? Worse, the charm of his cute face was losing against his eccentricities and everyone was having too much fun dogpiling in the forums.

– omfg what's wrong with this kid TTTTT

     ∟ he's lowkey scary. it's weird how he shows ZERO emotions.

– someone pick up your fucking robot it's going insaneo mode on idol inc rn

     ∟ shit sorry, left the door open i'll come get his ass rn

– are we bullying kids now? you are all sick. he's probably just nervous he's only 17 and hasn't had any training whatsoever.

     ∟ ok and so i am but i don't act like this omfg

         ∟ are you on stage in front of a hundred people???? shut the fuck up please

– i feel like i'm going crazy bc he literally just looks nervous to me lol you're all so mean he's cute! good luck park moondae!

     ∟ yes his face is cute, but at what cost

         ∟ no yeah no arguing about his looks but we're talking personality and i've seen more personality in an empty room. this kid isn't going to last long.

He really should stop looking at the comments but it's strangely addicting in a harmful way, where he knows he's getting worked up but can't seem to stop himself from seeking it out. Thankfully, the commercial finally ends and he's distracted once more and back to looking at himself publicly implode his reputation on TV. The moment he starts singing is a headache and a half: they manage to replay the first moments over five times just to show the myriad of shocked and excited reactions.

Moondae's voice is great even on TV and he breathes a sigh of relief when nothing else is chopped and screwed. Looks like the producers didn't want him to lose all dignity, small mercies. Even the community comments start turning around, focusing more on how good his voice was for a complete amateur and the judges' fawning and he starts to relax. 

Big fucking mistake.

"Park Moonade-moondae! Our little popcorn fairy!"

Moondae briefly considers the repercussions of a public murder-suicide as Keunse, as he's been wont to do lately, picks him up under his arms, holds him out like a prized pet on display, and spins him around in full view of the participants, judges, crew, god and everyone.

"S-s-sejin-ah!" Ahyeon has his arms out, following Keunse's spinning path as if to try and catch him, which is sweet but objectively, even more embarrassing. "Be careful! Ah, please make sure you- oh god. Lee Sejin, let him down. Now."

"Hmm? What? Why?"

Keunse tucks him under one arm to reorient his grip and holds him back up with a happy smile on his face. He goes stark white in the next moment and then with a tremulous smile on his quivering mouth, gently sets Moondae back down on the floor and takes two big steps away from him. Moondae doesn't know what kind of expression he's making but he hopes the feeling of abject fury and rage is coming through well. Ahyeon is the only one who can stand to be close and even Wongil is looking off to the side whistling and inspecting his nails.

"M-moondae-moondae, haha... It was just a joke?" Keunse says, hands clasped politely in front of him. "Please, spare my life."

"It's okay, Moondae-yah," Ahyeon soothes, fluttering around him before dropping his voice in a whisper. "Don't be embarrassed, you did a really good job!"

And it's just like Ahyeon to be so sweet and earnest and yet deliver a one-shot kill straight through his pride. He can't even be mad, it'd be like spitting in the face of a saint. So Moondae just takes a deep breath, grits his teeth, does his best to relax every tense muscle in his body and looks up at Ahyeon through his lashes.

"I'm not embarrassed," he lies and he's absolutely not flushed down to his bones. "Thank you, Ahyeon-hyung."

Apple Of My Eye [D] activated!
(Chance of activation: 25%)

Target: Seon Ahyeon

Target "Seon Ahyeon" finds you a little more endearing than before!

And then there was this bullshit. He knew life was out to get him when the skill triggered out of nowhere while he was alone at home. Moondae had assumed there was a prerequisite that he had to be physically near someone for it to trigger but clearly that wasn't the case as a stack of notifications came in from everyone from his first team match. To add insult to injury, they triggered when the scene of him dancing Pop⭐Con played.

He hated all of them.

That was his justification for immediately darting to the back door once the PR Live scavenger hunt started for "treasures". It was to cool off and not give into the urge to strangle Keunse, not because he was humiliated.

"Awww, look at his widdle ears - they're all red!" Keunse coos quietly from five feet behind him, he's made it a point to stay out of Moondae's reach despite he and Iljoon following close behind. "He's so cute when he's pretending he can't hear me."

Clearly, all it took for Keunse to stop fearing him was ten minutes and the desperation of getting a good item to advertise because he immediately spotted Moondae and utilizing his height and wingspan, managed to catch up to him all the while dragging an apologetic looking Iljoon along with him. Moondae considered ditching them entirely but decided to bite his pride. He could use them, at the very least.

"Dude, shut up - do you want to be used as a stepping stool again? My back is going to give out," Iljoon whispers back, waving his hands frantically. "Where is that weight coming from? He's so little but it's like he gains a ton of weight when he's back there."

Moondae reasoned that the staff would be petty enough to hide the PR balls somewhere insanely difficult to get to and sweetly asked (demanded) if they could give him a boost. They agreed and at first it was out of a petty revenge but after finding four gold balls, it was a strategy and one they'd keep using.

"That's the spite, hyung," Sejin replies back sagely. "It adds like twenty karmic pounds."

"Yeah? Well, I'm never going to recover so take one for the team and boost the kid yourself," Iljoon huffs, clutching at his aching back. "I'm too old for this bullshit."

"Lee Keun Sejin-hyungnim," Moondae calls out, pointing up towards some scaffolding the staff used to get aerial views of the stage. "If I could get your help here, please."

"When I thought he couldn't get any more formal with me," Keunse laughs wistfully, but he stretches and rolls his shoulders before holding two hands out for Moondae to use as a boost. "It was just such an adorable performance, how could I resist? Will I ever be forgiven, Moondae-moondae?"

It's almost fun, like a personal elevator as Moondae shoots up into the air and peeks in between the metal slats. He sees another two silver and two bronze balls, someone was clearly just slacking off in hiding them since they definitely didn't think someone would look here. He grabs them before Keunse strains himself and calls for a let down. He was skinny but he was still pretty tall and that eventually would be heavy for anyone, regardless of their physique. Moondae wants to stay mad but as Keunse gently sets him back on the ground, he's mostly just annoyed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, hyung," Moondae says, distributing the balls to Iljoon. "Let's go back soon, time is almost up."

Keunse laughs, ruffles his hair and throws his arms around him and Iljoon, it's sweet for two seconds before leans his entire weight on them, nearly toppling all three entirely, and forces them to drag him to the nearest quiet corner to split their loot. He pretends it's graciousness that they're both letting him have two gold balls and not an attempt at gaining back his favor.

Moondae thought he had been prepared for every eventuality for the PR Live but as he looked at the two supposedly great items guaranteed from gold, he couldn't help but want to take the stupid things and bean it into the nearest camera.

'Puppy Ears' and 'Guitar' were his two choices.

"Thirty seconds left!" the MC calls from the stage.

Moondae feels the seconds slow down and it was like his brain went into bullet time in a desperate attempt to save him from the most embarrassing experience of his life. He spots actual gold items in the hands of the two people who would easily give into him. It only takes one confirmation that he could play it with Ahyeon to trade away his 'Guitar' and one interrupted lecture about knowing his appeal to trade away 'Puppy Ears' to Wongil. Like hell he'd want to be stuck with the image of a puppy his entire career, good riddance.

The timer ends and interrupts Ahyeon and Wongil in the middle of insisting he take back his prizes and give back their bronze items since it was an imbalanced trade. Just in time.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Park Moondae."

He sketches a quick bow, avoiding the hot plate in the middle of his set up.

"Thank you for watching. Today, we will be trying this," Moondae speaks softly as he carefully opens the package and lets the chicken feet settle and sizzle before turning down the heat. "T1 recently came out with a line of heat and eat meals, this one is the Grilled Spicy Chicken Feet."

He brings the specially requested microphone closer to the plate so the sound of sizzling and bubbling oil can be clearly heard. He had asked but wasn't confident they could give him something to work with and was pleasantly surprised. His cameraman gives a thumbs up as requested and he's glad the feedback is running smoothly.

"They're boneless and precooked so it should only take a moment before we can enjoy them," he continues in the same quiet tone, taking a pair of chopsticks to gently turn and stir the feet so they don't stick to the bottom of the plate. "This is a great option if you want a quick snack but don't want the hassle of preparing the chicken feet. There's also a lot of sauce included in the packet so the flavor ratio is well balanced."

– he's so earnest......my heart..... 🥹

     ∟ it's so cute, he's so serious and meticulous T__________T

– he's the consummate salesman? moondae-yah, i'll buy them for you please just send me your resume, i need to hire you for my team 🕴️

     ∟ don't even joke - he's can't waste his talent and face on a SOULLESS CORPORATE JOB.

– i can't believe we're getting a mukbang and it's an ASMR mukbang! is my son a genius?

– this is so random, i love it

Moondae desperately wants to know what the comments are saying, if only to sate his incessant need to know everything. But also because, while he was confident both a mukbang and ASMR were guaranteed to get some eyes, he doesn't know how long they'd stay and he needs them to stay. This might be a small step in guaranteeing his life.

"Since the feet are meant to be bite sized and small, the cooking time isn't long at all," Moondae settles closer to the microphone and puts on his gloves; he picks one up from the cooled side of the plate and settles close to the mic. "I'll take the first bite now."

– i can't believe i'm watching an idol do asmr and do it so WELL, my head is fully buzzed from the sound of the CRONCH. this is incredible.

     ∟ he's an idol???? i thought it was some new channel doing mukbang. look at the set up, look at the material, it's professional.

          ∟ he's an idol survival show participant! but with that face, i think it's basically a lock.

"The flavor is good, the spice is middle of the road so it can be enjoyed even if your tolerance isn't that good," Moondae covers his mouth as he speaks. "The texture is very good for being pre-made."

Moondae takes a break from speaking to eat and takes a peek at his viewer count. He takes it back, he doesn't need to know what the comments are saying to know it's a fucking hit. They could be cursing him out right now and he wouldn't care, as long as the number stayed that long he's good. The staff only talked about the quantity, not the quality of his viewers, after all.

– my child is doing a baby mukbang ; w; <3 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen

     ∟ honestly, and he eats so well and so politely i just want to keep watching him eat T_T take my wallet moondae-yah!! 💸 you can spend my money, noona will just work and make more!!

– why is this so healing and also why am i crying

– is this why parents and grandparents always insist on feeding us? this is so nice to watch like i'm proud? and also nostalgic? mom...dad.....i'll eat well tonight.........

     ∟ some of you are really going through it in the comments

          ∟ if you feel nothing watching this then you're dead inside sorry you had to hear it from me :/

It's also nice and way easier than what others are doing, he overheard Keunse saying Chungwoo was going to be working out during his stream. National athletes were built different, clearly, because Moondae wouldn't even hesitate to just leave the building all together if a work out mat was his item. He'd rather use it to just lay down and nap in front of his audience for the run time.

"Ah, it seems we only have five minutes left," Moondae notes as a text from the staff comes through on his phone. "Thank you to everyone who has been watching so far. Let's have dessert."

– DESSERT? HOW WILL I SURVIVE WATCHING THIS CHILD EAT CAKE OR SOMETHING I'M GOING TO DIE

– moondae, you're worked hard!! you even prepared dessert 😭

     ∟ omg does he have a sweet tooth? why is everything he does the cutest thing i've ever seen? 

          ∟ bc it's park moondae, paragon of cuteness 😭😭😭

– park moondae needs to debut, the world can't be deprived of him

"Here we are," Moondae settles a giant wooden bowl and wooden cutting board onto the table. "I was also given these."

Moondae decided to leave Wongil's "Traditional Snacks" item for last since it took a little more prep than the chicken feet. They also made a great little palate cleansing follow up to a hearty but greasy meal like chicken feet. He opens the bag of unshelled mixed nuts and lets them pour into the wooden bowl.

It makes a satisfying sound like falling rain and he makes sure the mic picks up every sound as he grabs the last item he prepared. His viewer count has stayed the same for the last five minutes and figures that if they stayed this long, they'd probably stick around to the end. He turns the microphone away from the table.

"Oh, um, excuse me, this will be momentarily noisy."

– HOLY SHIT

– WAIT WAIT HOLD ON WHAT

– lmaoooo where did my soothing asmr go and why did it leave behind asmr (horror)

– MOONDAE-YAH NOONA IS SORRY PLEASE PUT THE WEAPON DOWN

– LOLOLOLOLOL WHAT'S GOING ON WHY DID THE GENRE CHANGE

– moondae there's another way!!!!! you can resolve your issues without violence!!!!

It's a bit relaxing, honestly, as takes a fistful of unshelled nuts and whacks his hammer on top of each one. It's only somewhat loud and makes his unsteady little table shake precariously, but something about smashing open the tough walnuts and macadamias makes him feel more at peace. He pictures Keunse's stupid grinning face and can't help when he puts too much force behind the next hit.

– LMAOOOO you can tell he's working through something did you see that last swing LMFAO

     ∟ is this the catharsis of a maknae...... he is the youngest of the group, i hope they're not giving him a hard time

          ∟ pretty sure no one would mess with him, look how he wields that shit like a weapon I'M DYING

– bro whoever pissed off this kid recently, start running and keep going he's not forgiving you anytime soon LOL

Moondae is glad he opted for the hammer instead of the softer mallet, he didn't realize how tough some of the nuts were and had to hit a few multiple times and with more force than he thought he needed. He frowns and can feel a strain in his arm with the amount of work he's put in but it finally cracks open and it's so satisfying that he can't stop himself when a proud smile comes unbidden on his face.

He gathers his little pile and brings the microphone back towards him so his audience can hear the crunch. He finishes it all too fast, however, and it sucks that there has to be so much work for such little reward. He goes back to hammering soon enough.

– my ears may be bleeding but my eyes are being fed and my heart is so full 🩷

– baby, i'm so glad you're having fun but noona is going deaf darling 🫶

– honey, sweetheart, angel, can you please hammer further away from the microphone? you're so cute but i'm losing 80% of my hearing

– my darling, you're incredibly adorable but i'm dying 🤍 i can't take much more 🏳️

– this live chat is full of insane people KID FUCKING STOP IT ANNOYING AS HELL

     ∟ you're incredibly fortunate that he can't see the chat or i'd kill you dead. i will dox you, your mom, your dad, you fucking dog, your dead grandparents, your entire ancestral line. don't you ever curse at my child ever again.

          ∟ yes ma'am, sorry ma'am

"As you can see, this bag comes with a variety of nuts but some can be difficult to open so I recommend having a hammer or mallet when eating these," Moondae continues like he didn't just commit an act of audio terrorism and like his cameraman wasn't actively writhing on the floor. "Some of them are lightly roasted like the sunflower seeds while others are raw, it's a very good assortment though."

Moondae looks at the viewer count mid-bite and nearly chokes when he sees the number absolutely soar. He knew both mukbang and ASMR were popular but he didn't realize it would gather such a huge audience. All doubts that he made Top 20 are absolutely demolished and he gets a text just as the timer ends that he has an additional five minutes and can answer viewer questions.

The questions he gets are endless and full of an abnormal amount of fondness, pet names and cooing in every word to the point that he feels embarrassed reading some out loud. He does his best to avoid landmines and answers just the most basic questions.

'What's your star sign?'

"Ah, I was born on December 15 so whichever one that counts as."

'MBTI?'

"I'm not sure, should I take the test?"

'Favorite foods?'

"I don't have any particular favorites or dislikes."

'Then why are you eating on your live?'

"Well, I was given a choice of foods so I picked and chose these. And I was hungry."

'Are you close to anyone on the show?'

"Ah, um," this is one he didn't think would trip him up, he automatically wanted to say Ahyeon's name but it was too embarrassing if the person in question didn't say the same. "There have been many people who have been very kind to me."

He manages to end his live show on a request asking him to sing a song so no one was left unhappy, Moondae was able to entertain while still being a singer and that's the image he wanted, not what the show was creating for him. He even throws his pride away and smiles as he continually waves goodbye while his cameraman finally ends the stream.

Moondae hasn't been confident in his image ever since his bombshell first appearance but since there was no editing whatsoever, he'd like to think that this was a success in rehabilitating his tattered reputation. He, after all, managed to pull in over fifteen thousand viewers for a single stream. That had to count for something.

Moondae should've known better when he started feeling a little too comfortable after his meal. He also manages to fall asleep fairly quickly when he finally arrives at home, contrary to his usual sleepless nights perusing the trenches of the public forums. The last damning sign was that he actually slept in for once.

What was he thinking? Did he get dumber as he got younger? Why would he think he could get any sort of break from the universe? When he wakes up and checks the usual online haunts for reactions to his PR live, he sees the image of Moondae, blank faced and wielding a hammer with the remnants of sauce on the corner of his mouth like a blood spatter, has gone absolutely viral.

Chapter Text

When faced with a great adversary, many are stuck between two options: fight or flee. There are pros and cons with each choice. If you fight, there’s a chance of loss or major injury but you’ll be hailed as a hero who tried; if you run, you have your life but can lose everything else after being labeled a coward. There is, however, a secret third option and in the days following his very interesting PR Live stream, Moondae decides that this is what works best for him.

He was, after all, very confident in his ability to ignore everything until it went away.

So he picks up a few shifts at Nari’s House, goes to the library and researches GED requirements and inheritance law, takes daily walks, breathes in fresh air, touches grass, and generally stays away from the internet. During the day, that is. When insomnia started crawling along his futon, he couldn’t help but reach for his phone and scroll through community posts, forums, social media platforms and everything in between.

The image of Moondae wielding a hammer and looking like something straight out of a psychological thriller is still going strong, it’s become beloved even outside the Idol Inc. community – apparently the dichotomy between his cute appearance and his aggressive actions were delightful and applicable to many. He doesn’t want to talk about how many different gifs of him hammering away at nuts there are, he doesn’t want to think about it.

(He’s even seen himself in the comments section under several of his favorite webnovels, was nothing sacred anymore?)

While he’s glad that his fuck up ended up being a net positive, triggering a reward notification after making an impression on a hundred thousand people – which was mindboggling to say the least – it also meant having to deal with the wheel that supposed gave out rewards. Again. He’s already going through it with his inadvertent fame, does he really have to tempt fate and try the roulette?

Moondae isn’t a gambling man, wasn’t one in his last life either, but he is curious nonetheless. Although they were supremely embarrassing, they were only apparent to him and generally had positive effects. Whatever, he’ll think about it later, right now he was on his way to work and would rather focus on that.

There’s still a little mercy in his life and the staff at Nari’s House don’t seem inclined to watch idol survival programs so his secret second life is safe and he’s still just the kid at work everyone likes. Nari still fawns and coos over him, Kyungri still tries to feed him until he’s on the verge of passing out, and the various staff dote on him. His customers are all older as well so there’s even less chance of anyone knowing him while he works.

“Daedah-yah!” Nari greets, patting his face in between his palms as always. “It’s so nice to see you every day, usually we only see you on the weekends.”

She sighs, content, rests her cheek on the top of his head and holds him close.

“This is so healing, I get why people have children now,” she’s holding him tight enough that he’s starting to feel a little itchy in the same way he does when Ahyeon or Wongil are too nice to him. “Your little face could end wars.”

Oh definitely not, it could make a meme go stupid viral but it couldn’t even save him from a bad edit.

“Thank… thank you,” Moondae says instead, haltingly. “Nari-noona is too kind.”

“Definitely not,” Nari insists, pulling away to scruff at his head, mussing up his hair. “Has no one ever told you how lovable you are? I just want to put you in my pocket!”

That comment stings a little, he’s not small; he’s lost a good amount of height from Gunwoo to Moondae but he’s still a growing boy (hopefully). He’s sure that once Moondae stops growing, he’ll be even taller than Keunse (ideally). He just has to make sure he stays healthy and take his vitamins and somehow sabotage Keunse just in case he’s one of those freaks who continue to grow well into their 20s.

“Please don’t,” Moondae replies, bland and disapproving. “We don’t want to have another repeat of last time you tried to make me get into your apron pocket. We don’t have many left, noona.”

“Boo, you’re no fun.” Nari pouts but finally lets him go.

The shift goes as it usually does, he takes orders, runs food, greets a few regulars warmly already knowing their usual and gets his cheeks pinched by the more affectionate ones. Most of their regulars are older, from the retirement community down the street, and they all have a habit of treating all the staff like their own kids.

Moondae is no different and he’s been given no less than ten wrapped candies by the time the lunch rush ends, each one pressed into his hand by indulgent grandmothers and grandfathers who insist he needs to eat and play more, work less. The day only gets better when one of his favorite customers, an older woman who always had the best neighborhood gossip and hilarious stories about her family, comes in and sits in his section.

“Where is he?” her voice is boisterous and loud but everyone is too used to her so it just becomes a part of the experience. “Where’s my favorite server?”

“I’m here,” Moondae calls with a small smile. “Welcome back, halmeonim. Should I get your usual order started?”

“Please, and can you add another three sets? My kid and her family are in the area to visit,” she leans her head against her fist and smirks. “And then come back so I can finish telling you all about that stupid bitch at the fish market who tried it with me yesterday.”

“Halmeoni!” Nari scolds from behind him. “Your language, please! Little ears are in the room with us.”

“Please,” she scoffs, stretching and cracking her neck and shoulders. “He’s probably heard worse around his friends, isn’t that right, kid?”

Actually, everyone around him made it their mission to keep their language as clean as possible, for the cameras and apparently to be good influences. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that that ship sailed a long time ago. Besides, Kyungri, the owner of Nari’s House, cursed enough to make up for the lack in his life.

“Right,” Moondae agrees as she cackles. “I’ll get everything set up, halmeonim.”

He’s crouched by the table, leaning his chin on the edge, and listening attentively to the masterful tale his customer is weaving and trying not to laugh when she starts to describe wanting to put the fish monger who tried to overcharge her in a triangle choke when someone splutters and then gasps nearby.

“Holy shit, Park Moondae? Is that you?”

He turns around, heart beating in his throat. There’s a girl about his age, gaping and pointing at him, slowing to a stop right by the table. His first instinct is to panic, she recognizes Moondae. Should he recognize her? They look like they would be in the same grade, what if it was a classmate? What if she was one of the many who bullied Moondae?

“Mom,” the girl calls faintly, staggering back into the unamused figure behind her. “Mom, hold me. That’s Park Moondae, Idol Inc. Park Moondae. Idol Inc.’s Park Moondae is in front of me. Park Moondae in an apron, Park Moondae is in a cute pink apron. Did I die? Am I in heaven right now?”

The relief is short lived and beaten to death in favor of embarrassment. Oh fuck, how he could he forget that he was technically a public figure now? He scrambles up and tries not to hide behind his notepad.

“Ah, Moondae-yah! You know my grandkid? Why didn’t you say anything, brat?” his customer laughs like he could’ve know her grandchild apparently watched Idol Inc. “She’s named after me, you know?”

“Halmeoni!” the girl shrieks. “You can’t call Park Moondae a brat! He’s like, mega-famous! He’s on TV and all over the internet these days, oh god, you’re going to get cancelled. Oh god, we’re going to get doxxed. Please forgive us, Park Moondae!”

Oh, the sweet release of death, find him now and strike him down where he stands.

“Our Moondae? Famous?” Nari gasps, clutching onto his shoulders. “On TV?!”

“Please,” and Moondae tries not to sound like he’s on the verge of tears. “I’m really not famous, this is just a big misunderstanding.”

“Oh my god, and you’re so humble too,” the girl continues like she isn’t happily signing away his life with her awed words. “Mom, Dad, pen! Pen! I need a pen - Park Moondae-orabeoni, may I please have an autograph?!”

She bows, the fully ninety and stays with her hands held out, in them she has a decorated toploader and carefully stored inside is a fanmade photocard. Of him. The horrors of being perceived and known is stark and way more humiliating than expected. It’s also a little humbling, to be faced with someone who actually took the time to create something so lovingly, with effort and care. Each little decorative piece was carefully chosen to compliment and match his audition outfit and the card itself was printed on a thick, quality cardstock.

And in the face of that, what else can he do? He takes it gently into his hands and they both flinch when he accidentally brushes against her.

“Ah, um,” he can’t deny the way his face is definitely bright red. “Thank you for supporting me.”

His voice trails off, small and soft, as he looks back down at the photocard in his hands. It’s strange, seeing something he used to sell secondhand from event-specific MDs and albums for fansign entries. It’s different, more heartfelt than the company-produced merchandise, this is coming from a place of love rather than capitalistic greed. He looks up and smiles, minuscule compared to how he feels inside but he hopes she can see just how thankful he is despite the mortifying way this happened.

“Is it okay if I take it out? I only have a pen so I won’t be able sign the toploader.” he says, fidgeting.

“Please!” she shrieks before clapping her hands over her mouth. “Of course, please. Do whatever is most comfortable, um, thank you so much.”

The room is silent and watching this car crash of an interaction and Moondae sweats as he considers what to sign. Oh god, he doesn’t even have a signature. He didn’t consider that a vital part of the debut plan, unfortunately, so he just prints his name and adds a little smiley face and flower for good measure, something to make up for the lack of preparation. He slips the card back in carefully and hands it back with both hands. She receives it like she’s receiving a bomb that’ll go off if she moves an inch wrong.

“Please,” Moondae says, strained and flush. “Enjoy your meal, I’ll bring around your water and tea in a moment.”

It’s obvious to everyone that he’s fleeing and he can hear the faint interrogation that poor girl is getting as he runs into the kitchen to escape. He comes through the kitchen door in a flurry, accidentally startling Kyungri and the cook but he can’t even apologize as he hides his red face in his hands and folds in on himself.

“Daedae-yah?” Nari’s voice is gentle even as he’s crouched, hiding his face in his knees. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he says, muffled before peering up and remembering she is technically his boss first before anything else. “I apologize for all the trouble and for causing a scene in the middle of the restaurant. I’m sincerely sorry.”

Apple Of My Eye [D] activated!
(Chance of activation: 25%)

Target: Noh Nari
Target "Noh Nari" finds you a little more endearing than before!

What the hell? He didn’t know why he assumed his skills would only work on Idol Inc. participants but this was a shock, nevertheless.

“That’s not the issue, Daedae-yah,” Nari replies, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell us what?” Kyungri’s voice is serious and hard and Moondae is nervous despite himself. “What happened?”

“We have a celebrity in our employment, Ma,” Nari says proudly, pushing Moondae forward like he wasn’t about to be fired for causing a ruckus. “Did you know our Moondae-yah is famous?”

“What?”

“Yeah! Hyesong-halmeoni’s granddaughter asked him for an autograph and said he was on TV!” Nari was clearly holding back the excitement the entire time because she’s on a roll that Moondae prayed would stop before he was banned entirely. “Our Daedae-yah auditioned to go on a show to become an idol and passed! He’s doing really really well apparently!”

“An idol?” Moondae swears he can hear and feel a faint rumbling coming from Kyungri’s shadowed gaze, she looks absolutely furious. “Park Moondae…”

“I apologize,” Moondae says, in a paltry attempt at defending himself. “I should have told you two sooner but I didn’t… I wasn’t sure how to say it. I’m sorry for causing trouble in your business.”

“You little shit!” Kyungri roars, getting up to gather him in a hug that feels more like a chokehold. “Where have you been performing? Why haven’t you invited us, you secretive brat?! Why didn’t you immediately text us when you passed, huh?”

“Yeah, honestly! Thank you, Ma – you always get to the heart of the issue. What time does your show air? What channel? Does it replay old episodes? I want to watch from the start!”

“Oh fuck,” Kyungri loosens her hold and immediately takes his chin between her fingers, inspecting his face. “Have we been overworking you? I don’t know much about this idol shit but you must be working hard. You little- why have you been asking for more hours? Are you taking on more than you can handle? I swear to god, all you brats think you’ll live forever. Think of how your back will be when you’re my age and slow down!”

Moondae doesn’t know what he did to gain the favor of good, kind people like this in his life but he desperately wants to stay in this warm bubble of affection forever.

“Moondae-orabeoni, I’ll support you forever!” Hyesong the younger wails as her parents and grandmother drag her away and down the street back to the retirement village. “Park Moondae, you’re insane! You’re so handsome and cute! I love you!”

Moondae feels embarrassed for the both of them even as he waves them off with an unaffected face. Both Hyesong’s had peppered him with questions and compliments the entire time he was waiting on them and it was made even more mortifying when Nari made it her personal mission to inform the staff and regulars both of his apparent fame as they came in.

Grandmothers and grandfathers were indulgently impressed, clearly not understanding the scope of what they were talking about, but the staff – who were around the same as age Nari or younger – went a bit crazy and immediately started watching clips and the first two episodes during their downtime. Moondae was lucky to have hair and a scalp left with how much abuse they both put up with throughout that shift.

Kyungri was suitably impressed and demanded tickets to his next team match. No guarantees, he let them know, but he’s secretly thankful that the tickets were drawn by lots – he didn’t know if he could perform knowing that the only people who knew him outside of the idol world were watching. He would almost say he felt shy if he felt emotions like that still and not like it was already beaten out of him by cynicism and life.

Nari cried watching him dance to Pop⭐Con, apparently overcome judging by her endearment taking physical shape in the form of a wall of notifications of his skill triggering. He had experimented to see if it would do the same for Kyungri for the rest of his shift to no avail until the very last minute when he took the time to politely bow and say good night to everyone. Apparently, that’s what endeared her. He would never understand the system that held his life in its stupid little hands.

Moondae crawls into his heated futon that night feeling a little overwhelmed and warm, to the point that he forgets to look up any mention of his interaction with Hyesong. And he intends to, if just to make sure she kept her promise of keeping the name of the restaurant out of any of her posts, but when Sejin invites him out to watch the third episode with the rest of their team it’s hard to say no. Especially with the looming threat of his precarious image is on the line, any wrong move can have him plummeting down the social consciousness.

“Moondae-yah!” Wongil hugs him like they’re been kept apart for decades. “It’s been so long.”

“We literally saw each other two days ago.”

Wongil and Heesung had finally worn him down and with his shift at Nari’s House ending early, he had no reason to say no. Wongil had dragged them out to a popular cafe in the busiest part of Seoul; his afternoon had been nothing but miserable foot traffic, long lines, expensive menu items that had his wallet crying actual blood, and a noise level that was untenable for human life.

And yet, he had fun. It was strange for Moondae to hang out with people in general, let alone people younger than him, but it was never awkward or strained. Moondae had been wary that the harmonious, friendly atmosphere among them would disappear outside of the practice rooms and auditoriums of Idol Inc. but it was like nothing changed. The dynamics were exactly the same but far more relaxed.

That day, Moondae learned that Wongil used a fake laugh while on camera. On Idol Inc., he was always camera ready, cute and poised, knew his angles and just what to say. But without the hovering, without the constant surveillance, Wongil laughed loud and heavy, a sound that came from deep in his chest and exploded out like a physical manifestation of joy. It was brash, it held weight, it was so different from his soft, cute image that it shocked Moondae the first time he heard it. Wongil’s laugh was a like a marching drum and he was helpless in following it, laughing along with him.

Heesung was the same; Moondae would have never known how fast his mind ran, thinking and processing faster than his mouth could keep up. He’d trip over his words, skip entire sentences before jumping to a new topic. The Heesung he knew on the show was more thoughtful, slower to reply without losing his bounce. He always thought Heesung was bright but nothing compared to how he got when he started talking about something he loved.

When Moondae finally made it home that night, he was exhausted, broke and somehow still hungry even after what was essentially a day-long food tour of Seoul’s currently popular cafes. His phone, dirt cheap and low quality, was suddenly filled with photos of food, sights and his friends looking stupid and having fun. It was nice.

“Yeah, like I said,” Wongil says, a smiling threat on his face as he reached up to pinch Moondae’s nose for the sarcasm. “It’s been so long.”

“Don’t mind him,” Heesung laughs, greeting Keunse and Ahyeon with a bow. “He’s feeling Moondae-deprived since he’s been working all week and hasn’t been able to text us back as often.”

Ahyeon whips around as Moondae stares daggers into Heesung, face already set in a worried expression, eyes wide and a furrow in between his brows.

“Moondae-yah, is that true? I thought you said you were taking it easy!” Ahyeon hovers, checking over him with halting hands before hugging him softly like he would break if he held too hard. “It’s the next team match soon, you know you have to save your energy for that.”

Moondae motions a slice across his neck from over Ahyeon’s shoulder and Heesung blows him a kiss back before flouncing off to the couch and laying his head in Wongil’s lap, whistling like he didn’t just trigger another headache.

“Kid,” and Keunse says it in his Serious Voice that he only brings out when Moondae actually frustrates him. “Didn’t we agree that you’d tell us if you were having trouble?”

“Yes,” Moondae replies instantly, a hand behind his back to flip Heesung off – he knows he sees it when both he and Wongil cackle. “But I’m not having any trouble, I’m fine. I was just helping out at the restaurant since winter break is over for some of our part-timers in university,”

Moondae looks up at the both of them with a face that he hopes doesn’t reveal any of his lies. He was actually working to distract himself from his impending doom via stupid meme and for more money. Who knew having friends was such a drain on the bank account? Ahyeon smiles, nodding at him like he believes him, and tucks his hair behind his ear while Keunse ruffles it back out of place in the next moment.

“Alright, alright,” Keunse concedes, hand moving from the top of Moondae’s head to cover his eyes. “We believe you, put the lethal puppy dog eyes away. Let’s get something ordered before the rest of the guys get here, it’s my treat.”

Moondae knew most of his teammates were well off but truly, a different level of rich to be able to offer paying for a meal large enough to feed several men. He doesn’t even want to get into thinking about Ahyeon’s supposedly basic apartment (two bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a huge kitchen and in-unit laundry were the essential opposite of basic). It was something out of a luxury furniture catalog, down to the huge, custom light fixtures, single slab marble island, and the massive sectional that he’s sure would cost more than his organs.

He never thought there would be a day he’d feel like he was too poor to touch anything in a room but honestly, he might be too poor to even look at anything here. His only comfort is that Iljoon looks just as uncomfortable as he feels and he leans in when Iljoon beckons him over.

“Moondae-yah, is it just me or are our friends fucking – oops, I mean freaking – loaded?” he murmurs, eyes darting around the room taking it all in. “Am I too poor to be here?”

“Iljoon-hyung,” Moondae replies looking at him with shining eyes, a new sense of solidarity building between them. “I always knew you were the most rational person on our team. Thank you.”

“Aww, what the heck? You’re going to make me blush, kid.”

“Hey, what’re you two whispering about together?” Heesung pries, looking between them ready to jump in if he’s being left out.

“Nothing,” they reply in unison. “Don’t worry about it.”

They catch each other’s eyes once more and exchange knowing looks before Lee Sejin A finally arrives and the food arrives shortly after – rich bastards, they wouldn’t get it.

To Moondae’s immense surprise, Lee Sejin sits next to him – he’s awkward and clearly uncomfortable but still takes the chance to nod at him before turning away entirely. Moondae goes through about seventeen thought processes in the span of a second – while he grudgingly admits that Keunse is becoming something like a friend, he hasn’t forgotten that one of these two were ticking time bombs.

He doesn’t mean to or want to get close to either of them. He doesn’t want the trouble especially when it can easily affect his lifespan but after everything he’s been through in Moondae’s body, he can’t deny that he’s gotten softer. Gunwoo would have cut these potentially problematic people out of his life without a second thought, people had lost his trust too many times for him to be sentimental or hesitant about it.

But in this life, his assumptions have been wrong time and time again. These kids in particular, have proved to him over and over again that what he first saw was never the whole story. Was it naive to believe that, even if the rumors were true and one of these Lee Sejin’s would be embroiled in a drug scandal, that he could do something to stop it before it happened? He’s already changed the trajectory of several different lives after all, what was one more?

“Hello, Sejin-hyungnim,” Moondae greets, reaching over to give Lee Sejin an empty cup from the expansive display of food and bottles on Ahyeon’s living room table. “Thank you for coming. I’ll pour you a drink, which one do you want?”

“Oh,” and there’s something like sour anxiety on Lee Sejin’s face. “Anything, anything is fine.”

“You’re not a butler, Moondae-moondae,” Keunse snickers from beside him, leaning his head past Moondae to smile at the other Lee Sejin. “Hey, hyungnim! Hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

Moondae carefully pours barley tea into Sejin’s cup with two hands and looks between the two of them, confused. There’s a weird tension there that he never noticed before - slight but if anyone looked twice, they would see it too and Moondae wonders if sitting here for the screening of the third episode was a good idea.

“Of course not, Lee Keunse-hyungnim, but it’s polite. Would you like me to pour you some too?”

Keunse gasps, two hands over his mouth and his eyes shining like this was a scene out of a drama and Moondae just asked for his hand in marriage. He tries not to show the disgust on his face at the over-exaggerated reaction.

“You would do that?” Keunse says, seemingly touched. “Wow… You really like me, huh?”

“Nevermind,” Moondae turns back to Lee Sejin on his other side. “Sejin-hyungnim, here, let me know what you want. We ordered a range of options because no one could agree on just one.”

“Thank you,” Lee Sejin says, a discomfit look on his face. “It’s okay, Moondae-yah. I can serve myself, you don’t have to.”

“It’s okay,” Moondae shrugs but backs off before he looks even more wary and anxious. “I’m used to it.”

Lee Sejin has a look on his face like he wants to ask why but can’t bring himself to welcome any more conversation than what’s already happened and necessary. Too bad for him, Moondae just made up his mind and was determined to root out the Lee Sejin issue before it became something bigger in the future. If that meant having to be the sociable one, then so be it. He’s already made (too much) progress on the Keunse front, he needs to start making headway into this one.

“Ah, I have a part time job as a waiter.” Moondae explains without waiting for the question, sitting back onto the plush couch. “So this isn’t much different.”

“Aren’t you too young to work?” Lee Sejin replies hesitantly. “You’re only sixteen, right?”

He immediately shuts his mouth and looks like he regrets even speaking. Moondae stifles a smile because he understood, truly, but this was for both their sake.

“No, I turned seventeen back in December,” Moondae says, sipping at his own barley tea. “It’s only for a few hours anyway. I just help out at a, um, family friend’s restaurant.”

That had been his excuse he gave to Ahyeon and Keunse to get them to get off his back about working so much. If it was a family friend then it was less like work and more of a favor, so how could he say no to a few shifts here and there? He just hoped those two worlds would never collide.

“Oh?” Keunse starts from his other side and his eyes are gleaming in that concerning way again. “Which restaurant? What do they serve? When’s your next shift?”

“No,” Moondae says, firm. “Absolutely not. You’re not visiting me at work.”

“But Moondae-moondae!”

Thankfully, they’re interrupted by the broadcast and Moondae was sanity was safe once more.

[HOT] Here’s the list of animals Park Moondae was compared to this episode

1. Tibetan Fox 🦊

Lee Sejin, you’re a f*cking legend for this one LOL

2. Feral kitten 🐱

Lee Sejin again, he’s on a roll

3. Ermine 🦡

Kwon Heesung, apparently it’s because he looks cute but he’s lowkey deadly (also shut the fuck up before you say anything abt the emoji - they're in the same family!!!!!)

4. Puppy out in the rain 🐶

Lee Sejin again, this kid either has a death wish or really likes Moondae LOL

5. Long-tailed Crow Tit 🐤

LEE SEJIN. AGAIN. I get it though, it’s a really cute baby looking bird and looks EXACTLY like our Moondae

6. Bear cub 🐻

LEE SEJIN. YOU’RE GOING NUTS, but it’s funny that he has the same justification as Heesung in that he’s cute but a Threat

7. Fawn 🦌

To everyone’s surprise, Seon Ahyeon! But this makes it even cuter because everyone calls HIM a deer so he’s basically like, this is my child 🥲

---

– inside of me there are two wolves: one loves moonpuppy, the other loves moonkitty. they both ride or die for tibetan fox.

     ∟ then i think the answer is clear, young one

– NOT THE ERMINE, HEESUNG WHAT HAS HE DONE TO YOU LMAOOO

     ∟ what do you mean, they’re so cute!!!

          ∟ pound for pound, ermines are like. one of the deadliest hunters in the animal world LMAO i get the concern.

– lee sejin, tell me the truth and tell me now, do you love or hate park moondae why are you constantly talking about him and comparing him to animals

– moonpuppy…...no wonder i thought moondae looked so familiar – he was in this really popular youtube series from a while back!! 🫢

     ∟ no fucking shot, he was youtube famous??? no wonder he’s so good at mukbangs AND asmr

     ∟ link???? link PLEASE???? he has the sparsest participant profile since he’s a nontrainee

     ∟ wow and here we thought he was oblivious to the entertainment world…..

– here’s the video! he deleted his channel but i downloaded this one way back bc it was so cute and peaceful and HEALING [country dog chicken feet mukbang.mp4]

     ∟ ASSHOLE YOU HAD ME GOING 🔪

     ∟ DFNDDSASLKA SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPP ok but yeah, totally healing i get it

     ∟ i can’t believe it…..park moondae in the flesh, why did you delete your channel puppy? 🥺

     ∟ country puppy boy park moondae-somehow it makes sense in my head 🤯

          ∟ NO FR, LIKE CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM IN A LITTLE STRAW HAT I’M GOING TO CRY

– how is no one talking about seon ahyeon calling moondae A FAWN when he’s been called A DEER since day one?? i’m going insane, i’m going feral, i’m eating the world and leaving behind only seon ahyeon and park moondae bc they’re so cute

     ∟ he’s basically raising park moondae at this point

     ∟ okay but did we also not notice lee sejin calling him a bear cub when he’s called a bear???? @ MOONDAE’S PARENTS, YOU HAVE COMPETITION AND YOU MIGHT LOSE CUSTODY OF YOUR SON

– genuinely hilarious that our moondae is being compared to so many cute but deadly animals like it should be obvious that he’s tougher than he looks esp with the infamous hammer asmr LOL if there was ever a top contender for maknae on top, it’s him

Chapter Text

[Yeonjoo Interlude]

Yeonjoo knew it was never easy being a stan but she was fighting for her life right now. While the image of Moondae holding up a hammer and looming like the most adorable threat was objectively funny (and she used it often against her boyfriend when he wanted to act up), it was precarious. Public opinion could change overnight, and if she wasn’t careful, what was a funny inside joke among viewers could slip out of control among the general public.

Thankfully, most people outside of the Idol Inc. community didn’t realize where the screenshot and gifs were from and just used it as a reaction image. They couldn’t technically affect Moondae’s reputation if they didn’t know who he was. No, her main issue were the toxic solo stans who started coming out of the woodwork. Somehow, they spun Moondae’s very funny and adorable PR Live and tried to use it as evidence that he had a violent personality.

Yeonjoo wasn’t one to address bullshit on her main account (leave that for the alt), but it had gotten to the point where lines were being drawn, factions being formed and as a technical big name account, she wanted to say something. But after years of being online and present as a big name fan of her previous bias, she knew better than to do so. Addressing it may actually affect Moondae negatively, allowing the floodgates to go against Moondae as a way of going after her.

Fans tended to conflate their entire personhood to their favorites so even a perceived slight against someone could spark and entire fanwar between Moondae’s fans and every other participant’s fans and she didn’t want to instigate that in the middle of everything else. So she was in limbo for now, just hoping for a better edit.

Thankfully, after a successful third episode, it seemed like everything was on its way back on track – Moondae, though having exponentially less screen time in this episode, was definitely portrayed in a kind light. His image was starting to heal especially after it was shown that he played a big part in what made their performance so interesting and refreshing.

The fact that group performance was objectively good (amazing, incredible, life changing etc. etc.) especially with Moondae’s stunning bridge, only helped cement his image as a talented participant. It’d be one thing if he was just a silly, one-off character meant to fill dead space but it was obvious to everyone that he had talent and, barring a miraculous change in ability in another participant, was the main vocalist to beat in this season. No one else even came close.

Sure, there were a few people talking shit to try and hype up their pick but she could ignore it with the best of them, especially when they weren’t fooling anyone in trying to compare to Moondae’s vocal ability. She had a good feeling about the fourth episode and was pleasantly surprised to see that the edit had been far kinder to Moondae this time around. Gone were the blank looks and dismissive attitude that she knew wasn’t the whole story. This time, the editors focused on a story line where he was a supportive teammate, responsible for Ahyeon receiving a good item to advertise in exchange for the infamous chicken feet.

“I wonder where he got the nuts from then,” Yeonjoo mutters to herself as she scrolls through her main timeline in one window and her alt in another. “Maybe he kept a silver or bronze when he went searching with Lee Sejin B and Ha Iljoon?”

A lot of her mutuals seemed to be thinking the same thing considering the amount of posts bringing it up, but it never came up again in the episode. Instead, they were treated to an adorable montage of Lee Sejin B and Ha Iljoon lifting and carrying Moondae. Seeing his little head pop out from off screen and peek from side to side made her actually coo and her mutual already made a gif that was going to end up being her phone’s lockscreen for the next few months. The background music was cheesy as hell and outdated but it still made her laugh when it looked like Moondae was having a lot of fun. The screen cut to interviews:

You two were doing a lot of heavy lifting this episode, was it tough?

Lee Sejin B: Nah, that kid is too skinny! Moondae-yah is like, this big, so it was lifting a bag of rice at the grocery store.

PD: I mean, those are kind of heavy, aren’t they? I strained my back once picking one up.

Lee Sejin B: Huh? Are they? Did you really?

PD: …

On the screen, the subtitle “PD Defeated By Youth” flashed for a moment. It then cut to Iljoon who was posed with the same question.

Ha Iljoon: Yes, but if I’m too heavy then how could we even try and lift Lee Sejin? And what we would look like if we made the baby of the group do something like that?

PD: Yeah, that’d look pretty bad.

Ha Iljoon: Exactly, plus I’m pretty sure Ahyeon would all murder us in our sleep if he knew we did anything to harm his precious child.

PD: Seon Ahyeon?

Ha Iljoon: Oh yeah, Ahyeon-ah’s the sweetest and usually very shy and reserved but god help you if you do anything against Moondae. That’s why we all call him Moondae’s mom – oh, please don’t tell him I said that.

PD: You realize this is being filmed, right?

Ha Iljoon: …Ahyeon-ah, hyung is very sorry.

Yeonjoo’s heart stuttered in her chest, Moondae’s mom? Why was that so cute? Who knew they were that close? Her timeline was exploding with both Moondae and Ahyeon fans screaming and crying over this new found revelation of their relationship.

seon ahyeon or die @s_ahyeoninc ・ 25m
there are tears in my eyes, we’ve all been blessed with the most precious friendship

to the moon and back! @moon_days ・ 21m
i guess it’s true that pretty people flock to each other bc you’re telling me that this beautiful man and this beautiful boy are close enough to be called parent and child? we never stood a chance!!!! it was over from the beginning!!!!

you’re my only bambi @ahyeon_bambi ・ 19m
everyone SHUT UP they’re FAMILY i’m so emotional rn AHYEON AND MOONDAE NEED TO DEBUT TOGETHER OR I WILL RIOT YOU HEAR ME TNET??? NONE OF THE USUAL BULLSHIT NONE OF IT, I WILL HAVE NONE OF IT

The Gold Standard @goldenahyeon ・ 18m
Two of the most lethal face cards in the game AND they’re close? Everyone go home, we’ve finally seen two pretty best friends and they’re prettier than we were prepared to handle.

moonpuppy for debut @moon_puppy ・ 16m
we should’ve caught on when ahyeonnie said moondae-yah was ‘like a little fawn’ 🥹 that was him telling the world that moondae is his kid fr fr fr

moonkitty for debut @moon_kitty ・ 14m
replying to @moon_puppy
what are we

mooncub for debut @moon_cub ・ 12m
replying to @moon_kitty
@moon_puppy yeah what are we

fawndae for debut @fawn_dae ・ 10 m
replying to @moon_cub
@moon_puppy y’all got room for one more or

moonpuppy for debut @moon_puppy ・ 6m
WHERE DID YOU ALL COME FROM IS THIS A FUCKING PETTING ZOO OR SOMETHING

foxdae for debut @fox_dae ・ 1m
replying to @moon_puppy
sorry for being late, i’m here too

moonpuppy for debut @moon_puppy ・ 15s
replying to @fox_dae
FDANFANSKJAKN

Yeonjoo swipes her sleeve over her suddenly tearful eyes, suddenly overcome with affection for Seon Ahyeon. Her bias was Park Moondae through and through, but anyone who loved Moondae was a good person in her book. She was so glad that her baby was making friends and had someone in his corner. That was always Yeonjoo’s biggest worry; anyone could tell that Moondae was unique in how he displayed himself and interacted with people. He often looked like a loner and it hurt her heart to think he was alone with no one to talk to or rely on.

She wasn’t naive enough to believe everyone was as friendly and buddy-buddy as they made themselves out to be, this was entertainment after all and most of the kids on the show already had strict media training. For a nontrainee like Moondae, he may have mistaken their practiced reactions and polished personalities for actual friendship. But hearing from a third source that Ahyeon cared for and watched out for Moondae? That was way more reliable.

Watching Moondae earnestly set up his mukbang was almost too much for her poor little heart and Yeonjoo’s timeline is a mess of crying emojis as they all witnessed just how much effort Moondae had put in. He had asked around for a higher quality microphone, ensured that the angle and hot plate placement came out well by going back and forth, physically positioning the camera himself, set all his supplies neatly off screen within easy reach and even took a photo of everything before he left on a break, just in case anything was jostled.

It made her angry that his hammer meme was what came out of this entire experience. After all that hard work and ensuring that filming and streaming ran smoothly, and that’s what all he got? The world was unfair. If he didn’t place well in today’s ranking, she had direct lines to three different protest truck companies and she wasn’t afraid to dip into her savings.

Yeonjoo tries to calm herself down and focus on the bright side – Moondae definitely had a better episode this time around and with his group performance having gone so well, it was almost a guarantee that the entire team would place within the Top 30. The popularity of their performance was cataclysmic and even now, people were still posting reactions and breakdowns and reviews. She holds that belief close to her heart as the commercials finally end, she’s back to being reasonable and rational and ready to post if anything unexpected happens.

And then she sees it – Moondae is on screen and he’s blonde.

our baby star @softmoondae ・ 9m
HE DYED HIS HAOR OGJGOD MY CHILD HE LOOKS SO ???? I’M FROTGHING AT THE MOUTH WHO ALLOWED THIS HE LOOKS SCO SFT AND CUTED

weekly moondae @moondae_weeks ・ 8m
I will not be participating in the rest of this episode, Park Moondae has officially killed me dead :) Someone tell me his rank, I’m going to go pass away peacefully now :)

Blue Chip Stock Moondae ⬆️ @moondaeyaaah ・ 7m
GOD I’VE SEEN WHAT YOU’VE DONE FOR OTHERS AND NOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE FOR ME THANK YOU FOR MY LIFE

moonpuppy for debut @moon_puppy ・ 7m
ASFDMASKSADK ALL MY POMERANIAN!MOONDAE ART JUST BECAME REAL

moonkitty for debut @ moon_kitty ・ 6 m
replying to @moon_puppy
omfg pomeranian moondaeng T_____________________T <3 he really looks like one, so tiny so fluffy just a baby T_____T <33 gonna pick him up and put him in my purse T__T <33333

Full Moon Baby | for moondae ☾* @fullmoonbaby ・ 6m
- Rest -

foxdae for debut @fox_dae ・ 5m
replying to @fullmoonbaby
???? WHAT??? WHY???

Full Moon Baby | for moondae ☾* @fullmoonbaby ・ 4m
replying to @fox_dae
The image of a blonde Moondae-yah just obliterated my entire life, I can die happy ^^

direct hit! @rcw_ontarget ・ 4m
oh my goodness, park moondae looks so so so cute blonde! i know where all my secondary stocks are going now omg

stock buying tut in pinned! @idealmoon ・ 4m
every single hater who said moondae wasn’t even cute i want you to look me in the RIGHT NEOW and tell me to my face that that’s not the most adorable human being you’ve ever seen in your LIFE and DON’T LIE

moondae for president @moon_daze ・ 3m
o-<-< moondae-yah……………….noona is only so strong…………………..you’re too adorable i won’t survive this show……………..

for ahyeon & moondae @sunandmoon ・ 2m
pardon my french but fuck every single one of you THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE MY TWO FAVES ARE BESTIES AND NOW THEY EVEN LOOK ALIKE I’M GOING TO THROW MYSELF THE BIGGEST PARTY I WON. I W O N.

I'll take you to the moon @moon_dae_inc ・ 1m
park moondae is INSANE. who did this. who said he should do this. which salon did he go to, they did such a good job it’s perfectly toned - not a single hint of brassiness and the soft perm is literally everything. i'm want to shake their hands. i want to kiss them on the mouth. thank you for doing such a good job on our baby.

it’s cha eugene’s world @du_euguene ・ 1 m
Wasn’t a Moondae fan coming in but I might have to start stanning! He’s so talented and so cute! Did I even stand a chance?

Yeonjoo is currently suffocating herself in her pillow so her roommate doesn’t hear her absolutely losing her goddamn mind. It’s one thing to love your bias and think they’re adorable, it’s another to actually shed tears over it. Yeonjoo can’t help it though, her eyes are currently broken faucets and every time she chances a look up, her eyes tear up even more. She doesn’t remember tweeting on @fullmoonbaby but her own words are staring up at her in between delirious blinks.

“Mom, thanks for giving birth to me so I can live in the same time that Park Moondae does,” she wails, punching her pillow. “Thank you so much.”

She’s thankful for the commercial break because she honestly had no idea what happened after her eyes were blessed with the sight of a newly blonde Moondae. She’s also thankful that she’s among her people as her timeline implodes with tweets that share her exact sentiments. Her one IRL mutual somehow had the wherewithal to text her and several near undecipherable texts before she gets an audio message of his sobs. She can’t even fault him, she just finished crying a moment ago.

“And now, it’s what you’ve been waiting for, stockholders! Who will top our second evaluation?”

The MC finishes his words with a flourish that was almost too cringey but Yeonjoo manages to halt the immediate movement to click out of the window by sheer will to see Moondae once more. The Octoberz boys had done fairly well so she’s not too worried about his placement but she’ll be damned if she misses any cute moments.

“First, I’ll announce the individual first place performance participants as voted by the live audience.”

They ramp up the tension with long waits and fast cuts to scared and worried faces but it’s nothing unexpected. The popular members of each group receive the individual votes and a guaranteed free pass to the next round. It’s disappointing that Moondae didn’t win, especially when he did such a phenomenal job, but she supposes that it’s alright that Ahyeon got it instead. The giant group hug the Octoberz boys give Ahyeon is adorable though and Yeonjoo satisfies herself with that for now.

When the actual rankings start in earnest, Yeonjoo finds herself oddly nervous. Objectively, she knows that Moondae will be just fine and will definitely get into the next round but having to wait for his name to be safe is still giving her a bit of a heart attack.

“...Rank 31 – Kwon Heesung!”

He’s the first of the Octoberz group to be called and it’s cute how he jumps when his name is called, pointing to himself over and over again until Moondae assures him that yes, it’s him that they called. The group all give their congratulations and Yeonjoo is surprised to see him reach out to Moondae one last time to tackle him into a hug. Moondae returns it with a pat to his back and gently pushes him to the stage with a small smile on his face.

park moondae pls give me my life back @moonpuppy_friend ・ 2m
MOONDAE HUGGED HEESUNG??? NOT A DRILL?? THEY’RE SO CUTE?? my baby has so many friends!!!!!

saving this for moondae when he debuts @moondae_idolinc ・ 1m
replying to @moonpuppy_friend
heesung is so much taller than him too T_T it was like watching a big puppy interact with a tiny puppy, i’m crying sm

“...Rank 29 – Ha Iljoon!”

Much like with Heesung, the remaining members of their group get up to congratulate him and instead of a group hug, they all walk him as close to the stage as possible. Playing it up and fussing over him like he was their elderly grandfather who couldn’t make it up the stairs himself. He roars at them, fist in the air but a smile on his face and he takes care to mention his group members in his speech.

Yeonjoo’s timeline explodes again, in affection for this group, and can’t help but feel warm and fond. There could be a chance that they’re all just doing it for the screen time but their friendship and how it came together so fast is genuinely heartwarming to see.

“...Rank 26 – Choi Wongil!”

The group converges again and when they separate, Wongil hugs everyone left with tearful eyes and gives a grateful speech on stage that tugs on the heartstrings. There’s a shot of Moondae smiling and clapping and Yeonjoo screenshots it for posterity – every smile was precious gold and she’s going to hoard it for all its worth.

“...Rank 13 – Lee Sejin! Oh wait, there are two Lee Sejin’s in this group. Ah! It’s Lee Sejin B, congratulations – I heard your group is calling you Keunse nowadays, should we follow suit?”

Lee Sejin doesn’t answer, however, as he’s too busy celebrating with the group. Yeonjoo has to stifle another scream when Sejin reaches down to take Moondae under the arms and swing him around twice before bounding up to the stage to give his speech. There’s a quick cut to Moondae’s cute, disgruntled face but she watches in real time as it melts into something more fond as Sejin wraps up his speech.

haribo bear! @haribo_sejin ・ 3m
SDALKJAKJ SHUT UPPPP THAT WAS SO CUTE, DID YOU SEE HOW EASY IT WAS FOR SEJIN TO JUST PICK UP PARK MOONDAE?? BABY MOONDAE I’M SO SORRY BUT MOVE, IT’S NOONA’S TURN

for lee sejin - @sejin_leesinc ・ 2m
omg KEUNSE…….i’m crying he just treats park moondae like a stuffed animal, they really love that kid

lee sejin debut or NOTHING @se_jinnies ・ 1m
BROOOOO TOP 20 I’M SO PROUD??? can octoberz just debut together rn like they’re all perfect together, what’s the point of going on anymore we found Our Group

“...Rank 8 is Lee Sejin A!”

Yeonjoo had assumed that the celebrations were mostly done since the last three of the Octoberz group were far more reserved than the others but she watches with a full heart, to the point of aching from how precious she thought this entire ranking had been, as Moondae gives a startled but grateful looking Lee Sejin A a small hug. It’s gone the next moment as Moondae’s name isn’t called again and again.

A small part of her freezes in terror at the thought that this may be the end of Moondae’s journey – she expected Top 10, yes, but this was exceeding every expectation and the mounting anxiety of not knowing was coming back with a vengeance. So it’s almost a relief when Moondae is finally called.

“...Rank 5 – Park Moondae!”

Yeonjoo can’t be faulted for letting out a scream so late, she really can’t. Her baby was not just in the Top 10 but was 5^th overall – this wasn’t something she could accept rationally and calmly. Her timelines is a mess of tears and screaming, especially when Ahyeon gives Moondae the sweetest and most heartfelt congratulations of the bunch. He cups Moondae’s little face in between his hands and hugs him tight enough that she can feel it through the screen before straightening out his uniform and letting him go on stage. It just confirms all of the teasing Iljoon had done earlier in that episode and her timeline is alive with even more crying and wailing.

“They’re crazy,” Yeonjoo mutters to herself, staring up blankly at the ceiling, feeling drained but happy all the same. “I love this show.”

Moondae ignores Kim Raebin looking at him for the seventh time that day. He’s trying to be discreet about it but the constant fidgeting and the way his head whips to the opposite direction when Moondae tries to meet his gaze is obvious enough. If it wasn’t such a hassle, it’d be almost endearing how terrible he is at hiding his actions. Contrary to his severe appearance, Moondae finds that Raebin is very skittish, extremely polite (to the point where he starts to reconsider how he teases Keunse, being referred to so formally by someone (technically) older than him is making him feel itchy and guilty for some reason), and incredibly earnest.

He doesn’t know if that’s the result of 1) giving Raebin new purpose with the changed theme for their very niche stage song; 2) having such a bad edit in the previous episode, where Raebin’s disagreement with another participant almost came to blows and aired in totality; or 3) if it was just his nature but it transformed his cold face into something more reserved and tentative. That’s the only reason why Moondae isn’t confronting him for the weird looks he’s been getting for hours on end, he didn’t seem the type to be a bully so he was probably just working up the courage to say something.

Still, Moondae thinks, feeling increasingly uncomfortable when Raebin’s latest look goes from darting to unbearably long, he doesn’t know how much more he can take of this before he starts looking over his shoulders out of paranoia. They had all been working hard after getting a preliminary demo of the newly rearranged song, he had wanted to just take a quick break and relax. He’d only just managed to escape Cha Eugene’s overenthusiastic grasp before Raebin decided to sit down somewhat close and stare.

Cha Eugene is a whole other issue in and of itself, he went from friendly and professionally distant to positively bouncy and clingy since their near disastrous check in with their coaches – it’s like having a mix of Wongil’s need to be physically close and Heesung’s never ending enthusiasm wrapped up in a ball of sunshine. Moondae never wanted a drink more in his life, he’s exhausted dealing with the inadvertent 2-for-1 prize he received when he opened his big stupid mouth and defended Raebin. He lets out a gusty sigh, wraps his arms around his bent legs, and presses his forehead to his knees. Will he ever know peace again? Or was he destined to live a life full of drama and noise?

“Moondae-ssi?” Raebin says quietly. “Are you alright?”

Moondae peeks up at Raebin from the corner of his eye, forehead still resting against his bent knees. He must make a pretty pathetic picture if Raebin is finally breaking his vow of silence to check on him.

“I’m fine, Raebin-hyungnim,” Moondae says, dragging his head up to face Raebin properly. “Thank you for checking on me.”

“Of course. Moondae-ssi? Can I take some of your time please?” Raebin sits up on his knees, hands fisted in the fabric of his pants. “It’ll only be a moment.”

Moondae blinks, his mind working a step behind as he takes in Raebin’s sudden request. He sits up, feeling heavy and clumsy as he copies Raebin’s posture – clearly this was a more serious conversation than expected if that’s how it was going to start. Raebin’s serious face melts into panic and he starts waving his hands, easing out of his kneel to flutter anxiously.

“Oh, no no, please it’s nothing serious, you can sit back down, please,” Raebin cuts himself off, placing a hand on his chest to take a deep breath. “I just wanted to apologize.”

“I’m sorry?” Moondae says, confused.

He doesn’t recall Raebin ever doing anything offensive, in fact, he had been freely acting as Moondae’s shield against Eugene. It was a well-established routine at this point, Eugene would do something overly familiar or borderline rude, Raebin would yell, Eugene would yell back, they’d bicker until they both forgot why they were fighting; rinse and repeat. It’d be more entertaining if Moondae wasn’t the hassled rope in this particular tug of war.

“I should have done this earlier,” Raebin frets, wringing his hands as they both settle back against the mirrored wall. “I want to apologize for taking so long to properly thank you.”

“Thank me?”

Moondae gets interrupted as Raebin continues to ramble, words coming through faster even as his pronunciation and diction remain perfect – he’s impressed, the strange situation he’s been forced into aside.

“Thank you so much for defending me, I know we haven’t known each other very long and that we aren’t exactly friends but you spoke up to help me when you didn’t have to and I will be forever grateful. You could have taken the chance to ensure your own image was secure but you didn’t, you prioritized the team and made sure we all left the practice room in better standing in our coaches’ eyes. I don’t know how I can repay you but please let me know and I’ll do my best to accommodate you.”

Moondae is on the verge of being overwhelmed just by the wall of words Raebin put up but he just tilts his head, a question on his face he can feel. Raebin gets a little more flustered but doesn’t stop.

“I also want to apologize on behalf of Cha Eugene, I know he’s been increasingly… affectionate. I have no idea why he’s been especially annoying lately but he insists that it’s important that you like us?” Raebin sighs, tired and harried. “Anyway, I’ll take him aside and have a very serious conversation about boundaries and respect if you need me to; don’t hold back, he’s an idiot and won’t understand unless you mash it into his brain. I think he’s just excited to work with you, he was very impressed with your group’s performance so I hope you don’t find him too offensive, he’s just not very aware of how stupid he can be.”

Moondae can’t help but let out a small laugh, ducking his head to hide his smile behind his knees. The switch from an earnest, well spoken and grateful Raebin to annoyed, borderline ruthless Raebin was unexpected. He gathers himself as Raebin stutters his way through an explanation of how what he said isn’t ‘bullying and everything said was not out of actual disdain or hatred’.

“Raebin-hyungnim, that was mean.” Moondae can’t help but tease, if just to see how flushed Raebin could get.

He doesn’t disappoint and every inch of his face is borderline vermilion, Moondae wouldn’t be surprised if he actually ends up passing out from the blood rush. He takes pity then, feeling a little like he was bullying a purple color variant of Ahyeon and gives Raebin a smile.

“I’m joking, hyungnim, I know you two are good friends, it’s just a little teasing right? Eugene-hyung isn’t being a bother either. He’s been very helpful since I’m not very good at dancing, I’ve been learning a lot with him,” Moondae assures, resting his cheek on his knees and peering up at Raebin. “And you didn’t need to thank me or apologize. Rather, we should apologize to you for making you bear the burden of rearrangement on your own.”

Raebin gapes and Moondae stifles another smile to keep speaking.

“I didn’t speak up so you’d be indebted to me or anything,” honestly, Moondae had just blurted it out because he was sick of the atmosphere and figured, hey, he already had a shit image – what was one more possible scandal? “I said it because it was the truth.”

“Oh,” Raebin replies, breath hitching like he was about to cry; Moondae hopes he doesn’t, he’s had too many people crying on him as of late. “Th-thank you very much. I still feel like I owe you something.”

He comes to a quick realization then, he could use this for his benefit.

“Well, if you insist,” Moondae starts haltingly, and Raebin’s head whips up, an eager and determined look already on his face. “Can I join you and the producer when you finish the new track today? I won’t be much help but I’d like to be there anyway.”

Moondae is doing this out of half a genuine interest and half to cover his ass – he’s been growing increasingly aware of how the system can’t account for everything. He realized it first when he was in a solo session with Coach Mudie in the first week of the show. She had complimented his natural talent, yes, but also started talking about how his vocal technique was extremely refined, suspiciously refined, for a complete amateur. When the cameras were put away, she had come up to him and asked, point blank, if he was actually trained. He’d denied it of course, telling the absolute truth for once in this new life.

Getting better at dancing, refining his looks, these were quantifiable improvements he could explain with physical practice, a better diet, a trip to the salon and so on, even if it was just the work of the system. But for a prospective main vocalist to be completely unaware and uninterested in music and vocal technique to start improving out of nowhere? That was going to be tough to explain away. So if Raebin was so insistent in making it up to him, Moondae would take it and mark this as a first step to establishing the image that he was an actual vocalist who wasn’t just coasting on natural talent.

And really, he did feel bad that the entire team foisted off what was, essentially, the most important job to some poor anxious kid.

“Y-you, you want to help? Help me?” Raebin asks, voice trembling and pointing at himself.

“If I can,” Moondae says, looking up with imploring eyes; he really needs this if he wants to allocate another point into his vocal stat. “I promise I won’t get in the way or bother you.”

Who Could Say No To That Face? [C] activated!
(Chance of activation: 30%)

Target: Kim Raebin
Target "Kim Raebin" finds your words a little more convincing with your cute act!

Motherfucker, cute act? Where?

Moondae tries not to show how much he wants to throw himself out of the nearest window and just waits for Raebin to respond. If there was a loving god, Raebin would say no and prove that the stupid fucking system was infallible. Moondae is proven wrong himself and left disappointed when Raebin covers his red face with two hands and just nods.

“Hey, hey, why are you going tomato mode?” Eugene elbows into Raebin’s side with a laugh, already poking and prodding at his temple. “Moo~ndae! Are you bullying your Raebin-hyung?”

“Of course he isn’t, idiot!” Raebin snaps, batting Eugene’s hands and pushing his face away to look back at Moondae. “I’d be happy to have you join in on any of the sessions and if you have any questions, please let me know Moondae-ssi!”

“Just one, so far,” Moondae says, smiling at the way Eugene whines and pushes back against Raebin’s hand with his forehead. “Can you speak to me casually?”

Raebin splutters, hand losing strength and accidentally slipping off of Eugene’s head. Eugene crashes against the floor but pops up a second later, laughing approvingly.

“That’s how you do it, little dude,” Eugene cackles, ruffling his hand through Moondae’s bowed head. “You gotta trick him into treating you like a normal person and not the CEO of some Fortune 500. Like, we’re not even 20, why are you talking to me like I’m 48?”

Moondae understands about half of what he says but nods seriously anyway like he’s carefully taking in this advice for future reference.

“I see,” Moondae says, trying to shake off Eugene’s hand from his head. “I will remember that in the future, thank you.”

“If you really want me to,” Raebin cuts in, absolutely red faced and cupping his cheeks in his hands. “Then please do the same… Moondae-yah?”

“Of course, thank you, hyung,” Moondae gets back up on shaky legs and bows to the both of them. “I’ll get back to practice, let me know when you need me. Thank you again.”

(Unbeknownst to Moondae, more trouble was stirring up.

“Wow, Park Moondae is really pretty when he smiles! So that’s your type, hm? Heh, Kim Raebin, you dog - you have my respect! Good taste, I approve!”

“Yeah... Wait, I mean, no. I mean, not that I think Park Moondae-ssi isn’t good looking! Because he is, rather, the whole team? And we- and, and. I don’t like your tone?! Or the implications you’re making?! Stop messing around, Cha Eugene!”

“You’re not fooling anyone, dude. I saw the gooey eyes from a mile away.”

“Gooey?! There was no-! I just, I just respect him is all! He’s younger than us but he’s very mature and capable, more so than some people we’ve worked with. It’s not a crush or love or, or, or whatever!”

“Oh yeah, that’s totally respect all over your face right now. To~tally why you’re redder than a sunburn and acting super shy. And tell me, Kim Raebin, where the words ‘crush’ and ‘love’ came from? I NEVER mentioned them~!”

“CHA EUGENE!”)

Moondae is proud of their performance. They were working on crunch time for a majority of the week, barely sleeping and eating to make deadlines and practice their twice-changed routine to make it perfect. They may not have been close like his first team but there’s a healthy, friendly respect among all of them and they all support each other when the results are disappointing.

He expected it, yes, but it doesn’t change the fact it sucks to know that all that work sunk into a project that only reached third place. He should honestly be grateful, it was almost guaranteed that they’d all proceed into the next round (unlike everyone in the places below them who looked devastated and anxious). Still, he doesn’t feel great especially when even the perpetually peppy Eugene looks downcast.

Raebin had been in the middle of apologizing to the entire group before Moondae cut him off and explained that there was nothing to be done – it was a matter of voting behaviors, not their performance which was objectively good. They put their TV faces on for the rest of filming and only showed their despondence while packing to go back home after another long week of work. This is the only reason why he exchanges numbers with Eugene and Raebin, how could he say no when they were already so down?

Moondae is in the middle of wondering when his contacts list had gotten so long when he hears a familiar voice call out to him. When he said that he’d been too busy to do anything but practice, he meant it. It had been a while since he’s seen any of his previous group outside of briefly passing each other in the hallways. Ahyeon had looked worried every time but could only thumb at the bags under his eyes before Moondae was dragged away by his team to practice again.

So he’s embarrassed by the excitement he feels when he recognizes Ahyeon’s voice and whips around before he can stop himself. Any joy falls away when Ahyeon looks anxious, wringing his hands as he jogs to catch up.

“Moondae-yah,” he calls out, hands automatically coming up to pat his head and straighten his clothes. “Good job today, your team did amazing.”

“Thank you, congratulations on first place, your team did great,” Moondae replies before growing hesitant. “Ahyeon-hyung, is everything okay?”

“Ah, thank you,” Ahyeon says, biting at his bottom lip. “And um, well, I wanted to tell you earlier but you were so busy- which reminds me, please tell me you’ve been eating properly, your wrists look very thin! And you seem so tired, the bags under your eyes have gotten worse, please tell me you’ve been staying healthy.”

Ahyeon cuts himself off mid-explanation, which just ratchets up the crawling feeling of anxiety, to hold at Moondae’s forearms with a worried look on his face.

“Um, I ate?” Moondae tries, because nothing he did this week could be considered healthy. “Anyway, what’s going on? Is something wrong? Is everyone alright?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ahyeon waves his hands, seeing the anxiety on Moondae’s face. “It’s nothing too bad but...”

Moondae can now freely admit that he adores Ahyeon and thinks he’s a great person who is working hard to overcome his mental blocks and anxiety but if he doesn’t clearly explain in the next two seconds, Moondae won’t be liable for what he does next.

“Yes?” Moondae urges, trying to hide his impatience.

“It’s Wongil,” Ahyeon sighs, looking to the side. “He and Heesung had an awful fight and refuse to speak to each other.”

Chapter Text

The staggering relief that Moondae felt after the revelation that the big issue of the month was just a fight between Wongil and Heesung quickly transformed into dread when he finds himself stuck between them doing his best attempt at mediation. Neither of them had left the venue yet, thankfully, so it only takes a minute to track them both down and drag them into the nearest stairwell to nip this problem in the bud. He feels a little bad for having left Ahyeon in a daze with how fast he dropped everything to get this settled but it somehow became very pertinent in that moment that Wongil and Heesung were friendly again.

He doesn’t know why he cares so much or why the thought settles in his chest like heartburn but the image of the two, who had almost become an unbreakable duo in his head similar to Ahyeon and Keunse, being apart has him feeling strangely unstable. Maybe he’s coming down with a cold from the exhaustion like the last team match – either way, it’s even more reason to make sure that this is solved today before he falls too sick to help them.

“Moondae-yah, can you tell that big fool that I refuse to give CHILDISH, ANNOYING, and STUPID people the time of day? And that if he wants to talk to me he should do it like an adult and say it to my face?” Contrary to his words, Wongil is faced almost entirely away from them, arms tight across his chest and an imperious frown on his face.

“W-well, Moondae-yah! Can you tell that mean-, mean-, mean person? Yeah! That mean person that they’re just LASHING OUT because they know they’re the one who’s in the wrong?” Heesung retorts, facing the opposite wall and unconsciously shouting over his shoulder before turning back around. “Projection is a disease and unfortunately, he’s TERMINAL.”

Moondae wants to leave but he’s also fascinated by the way Heesung’s mind works – he can’t find an insult more scathing than ‘mean person’ but has the wherewithal to call out Wongil’s bratty behavior in a way that even makes Moondae wince a little.

“P-projection?!” Wongil shrieks, whipping around. “I’m not PROJECTING ! If I was, would I be here? Waiting for you to finally grow up so we can speak like adults?!”

Unfortunately, Moondae is in the splash zone of this particular shout and Wongil’s voice rings high and bright in his ears like traumatic tinnitus. He really needs to see how extensive Wongil’s range was now; if he worked a little more at creating consistent, even volume and lifting his soft palate to let the sound round out and soften, he would be at an entirely new level.

“Ohhhh, ohhh! Like aaaaduuuults!” Heesung shouts back, elongating his words sarcastically. “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me after I asked one simple question! Ask anyone in our group, I’ve been the one waiting for you to stop throwing a tantrum!”

Heesung’s voice is nice too, a lower tone on the edge of a rasp; as long as his voice was finished breaking, he could have a great stylistic sound distinct enough to stand out even in a large group. He’s a dancer, mainly, but Moondae hopes he considers attending more vocal lessons, he could become as well rounded as Wongil if he kept at it.

“Stop saying that! I didn’t do anything wrong, you’re the one who started it!”

“How did I start anything ?! You’re impossible!”

Moondae can fully admit he’s somewhat disassociating from this argument, trying to think of more pleasant thoughts to cope. While it was stressful being in an unfamiliar team with such strong personalities, it had been a rewarding experience overall. Raebin, despite being mainly a rapper and producer/composer, was extensively knowledgeable about all aspects of music including vocal technique.

He gave names to skills Moondae knew he had and could produce, he easily articulated and explained concepts that seemed so nebulous and heady and Moondae was smarter by simply having attended the scant few sessions he was able to squeeze into the already tight team match practice schedule. It was like learning a new language, he was suddenly examining and analyzing everyone’s voices now that he had the words to do so.

“Well, you’re an idiot!”

“You’re the idiot!”

No, all three of them were – Moondae, especially, for truly believing he could do anything to help resolve this situation.

“Ah, sorry,” Moondae cuts in while they finally stop screaming to catch their breaths. “So, how did this start again?”

The way their heads turn to him in unison before exchanging looks, dead silent and perturbed, has him almost convinced they actually do have the capacity to kiss and make up but their faces crumple in rage in the next moment and Moondae swear he’s lost brain cells and his hearing both.

Needless to say, nothing was resolved and he still didn’t know what the impetus was – worse, he was yelled at too, just by proxy of being in the wrong place at the wrong time (and also by not paying attention, that was his bad). There’s nothing Moondae can do after ten minutes of futile effort as they stomp out of the stairwell and in opposite directions.

He briefly thinks about chasing after them but almost immediately he realizes just how bad that could get if he chose one over the other – you want to talk about adding fuel to the fire? That’s how he made sure the fight lasted through the end of Idol Inc. He leaves himself after taking a minute to sigh and grumble to himself in the finally silent concrete walls of the stairwell. He lurches out, feeling a little like he was run over.

“Oh,” he hears Keunse’s voice come from down the hallway. “Definitely still fighting, look at the kid, Ahyeon-ahyeon. He looks like a husk!”

Moondae automatically walks over, head down and exhausted, following the sound of their worried conversation as they fret between themselves about the Wongil and Heesung situation. When he spots Keunse’s shoes in his peripheral, he stops and presses his forehead against his broad chest. Keunse automatically stills, hands stiff by his sides and Moondae doesn’t need to look up to know he’s probably panicking right now.

“Ah, Moondae-moondae?” Keunse asks, uncertain. “Are you okay, little buddy?”

“Mrmph,” Moondae huffs but stays connected. “Hmm.”

“Oh my god,” Keunse whispers and Moondae watches his hands flail in between half closed eyelids. “Ahyeon-ahyeon, what do I do? Holy shit, I was prepared for a lot but I wasn’t prepared for this.”

There’s a few noises of shuffling clothes and swishing.

“What? Ask him for a bong? Ahyeon, what the hell?” Keunse sounds scandalized before the realization sets in and he gasps. “OH. Oh, I mean, Moondae-yah, what’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”

“...I’m fine,” Moondae isn’t pouting – he’s a grown man and has already gone through enlistment, he doesn’t pout, can’t, anymore. “Just tired.”

“I bet,” Keunse huffs a laugh and his voice is too soft, too open, too understanding and it makes the discomfort in his chest burn again. “Hey, it’s okay, Moondae-moondae. I know you’re worried and it’s a little scary but friends fight sometimes, just give them some space to think about everything. It’ll all work out soon enough.”

Moondae watches, detached, as Keunse’s hand shakes a little before coming up and he feels it settle on the back of his head. His touch is feather light, like he’s afraid to add any pressure, but he can feel his thumb tap a gentle rhythm against his hair. Selfishly, he lets himself stay like this, feeling the burden of knowledge and the pressures of his new reality lighten just a bit as Keunse holds him.

“Let your Sejinnie-hyung impart this hard earned wisdom – I know you’re a bit of a control freak,” and what did he expect, really, Keunse was just naturally predisposed to trying to solve issues through humor and teasing. “But really, sometimes problems just need time. And even though I do believe you could out-maneuver most human beings, it might be best to let Wongil and Heesung handle their argument between the two of them. You can leave your evil mastermind plans at home this time.”

Moondae grits his teeth and grinds his forehead hard against Keunse’s chest.

“Ow, ow, ow! Moondae-moondae, you little shit!” Keunse howls, but admirably, he doesn’t move away and instead lets his other hand come up to pat at Moondae’s back soothingly.

“Not a control freak.”

Moondae wasn’t naive, he knew that he really could just leave this issue between coworkers alone and it would eventually resolve itself. But if he could do it faster, make it easier and ensure that everything worked out perfectly, why would he leave it chance? Why wouldn’t he just solve it himself, then and there?

Moondae could admit that, yes, he did have a bit of a need to have everything in line but it wasn’t accurate to call him a control freak. Humans were organizational creatures, that’s all he was trying to do here. He stops bullying Keunse, who lets out a sigh of relief, a touch remorseful since he really did nothing wrong (this time). Moondae pulls away after a long minute when the feeling of guilt and discomfort is too much to bear; it was a moment of unfortunate weakness. Ahyeon and Keunse were just kids themselves, they didn’t need to spend the emotional labor coddling Moondae on top of everything else.

“Fine, I’ll… let them try and reconcile on their own,” Moondae sighs, lips pressed together in a thin line. “Thank you for the advice, Sejin-hyung.”

Neither of them look very convinced by that first part but Ahyeon’s eyes look shiny and proud as he thanks Keunse without an ounce of sarcasm or reproach. Keunse himself looks a little like he was clobbered over the head but he ends up laughing awkwardly, fist in front of his mouth as he looks off to the side, half playing bashful, half actually shy.

“Of course,” and he’s still looking away when he ruffles Moondae’s hair before clearing his throat. “Anyway, this should take your mind off the kids for a bit – look!”

He holds up his phone with a displaying hand underneath and Moonade tilts his head to read the long forum post. On the screen, there’s a photo of a sprawling subway ad with Keunse front and center, grinning on a background of soft greens. Posted all across the expansive space are countless sticky notes filled with words of encouragement and love. Keunse scrolls down for their benefit and the poster also includes the Ahyeon and Moondae ad right next to each other and directly across from Keunse’s own, similarly covered in sticky notes of their own.

Moondae suddenly feels a wave of dizzying anxiety. He should be excited; it’s physical proof that he had fans who cared about him and wanted him to succeed. Better yet, they were actively campaigning for him and leveraging their support in a highly visible and extremely expensive way. With their help, he could actually keep placing high and more importantly, live to see another day. But the sight of that glowing billboard, the posted dates that say that it’ll run for the next two months, just makes him feel exposed and vulnerable.

He was really doing this.

Ryu Gunwoo, lifelong introvert and once dubbed the most private person in the world was honestly and truly going to put himself and Park Moondae out into the world to be perceived and judged and inspected and scrutinized and picked and prodded and more. Willingly.

“Our fans!” Ahyeon says excitedly, holding up his own phone to show the ads from another angle. “They put up these subway advertisements for us and all three of us are in the same hallway! Isn’t that so sweet?”

“And look at all the notes and drawings, Moondae-moondae,” Keunse adds, face softening as he looks at his own phone screen. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe people really did this for us, it must’ve taken a lot of work.”

“Money too,” Moondae replies absently, still reeling from the realization that this was another big step into the public light. “Are these at Hongik University station?”

“What?” Ahyeon gasps, clearly forgetting that money made the world go round. “H-how much? Do you know?”

“Wow~! Our Moondae-moondae is so knowledgeable,” Keunse cackles, throwing an arm around Moondae’s shoulders and resting his cheek on his hair. “If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve seen how terrible your stamina is, I’d be convinced you’re a secret agent or at least some kind of child-spy like in the movies.”

Moondae is feeling benevolent so he resists the urge to throw him off, all too used to how touchy-feely his friends(?) were.

“Yes, very,” Moondae says seriously, clinging onto Keunse’s towering presence and Ahyeon’s curiosity so he doesn’t fall under his anxiety again. “Hongik University and Gangnam are two of the most expensive ad stations, so it’d be roughly…”

Moondae thinks back on his previous life and all the tweets in his timeline of campaigning fansite managers. Some of the larger, more professional, sites and overseas groups (especially the massive and very dedicated Chinese bars who could easily spend the networths of some celebrities) would be very upfront and post their monthly goals and the distribution of funds.

“Roughly, 8 million won?” Moondae surmises, closing his eyes and pinching his bottom lip in thought – he shaves a little off to account for the fact that it’s actually based on inflated information from the future. “Of course, that’s a monthly fee. The posted timelines say it’ll be up for a two months so they probably got a better deal for around 15 million won.”

Moondae nods to himself as he searches for the ads on his own phone. He’s feeling a little better but he still feels like he needs to keep his hands occupied so he doesn’t start shaking from the overwhelming feeling of being perceived. It’s silent as he taps out a quick search and only looks up when he remembers that they were all technically still in the middle of a conversation.

“Hyung?” Moondae calls out, poking at Keunse’s stiff form still draped over him. “Ahyeon-hyung?”

He turns to see Ahyeon stark white and on the verge of passing out. Well, maybe he should’ve just kept his mouth shut – oops?

The only reason why Moondae deigns to join Ahyeon and Keunse to view these ads in person was out of gratitude for the amount of work and money involved in getting it set up in the first place. But also, maybe, out of guilt for causing the two so much mental stress. When they realized just how much money people, absolute strangers, were spending on them, they insisted that they had to see them in person – apparently, it was the least they could do.

“You could also just stay home, that’s actually the least you can do.” Moondae grumbles to himself as he plops down onto the bus.

He looks mildly suspicious in his all black get-up but after being spotted at his local convenience store three times by Idol Inc. fans, he started being more aware of prying eyes. It was one thing to be recognized, it was another for it to happen multiple times in a place that was too close to apartment building. All previous interactions had been just fine so far, aside from some mild screaming, but one could never be too careful. He couldn’t chance some weirdos following him home, after all.

“Oh my god, it’s Park Moondae!”

“Moondae-yah! Can you say hi to me?”

“Do you think he’s here to see Seon Ahyeon and Lee Sejin?”

“They’re hanging out! I told you they were actually friends.”

“Moondae is so cute in person, holy shit, you can feel the baby energy even with the mask.”

“You’re insane, what are you even talking about?”

“Moondae! Turn this way please!”

His first thought is that the station is overly crowded for a quiet weekday afternoon. His second is the quick realization that clearly everyone was of the same mind and had the same idea to visit the ads outside of rush hour. It’s apparent the minute that he makes his way down the stairs that a majority of visitors are Idol Inc. fans here specifically to view the ads throughout the long hallways of the subway.

Moondae thought he was being fairly discreet but despite his best efforts, the crowd whips into a shouting frenzy and he’s almost pushed down by the wave of enthusiastic cries before a semblance of order was organized by an angry girl rounding everyone up and establishing an unspoken boundary. Moondae is infinitely grateful and bows down in thanks and takes care to wave and acknowledge as many people as he can before rushing to where Ahyeon and Keunse said they’d meet. If he, in his blandest get up, was recognized, then Ahyeon – with his face – and Keunse – with his build – had no chance in hell. He just hopes they haven’t done anything stupid.

Moondae skids to a halt and briefly contemplates just turning around and leaving his two idiots to fend for themselves. Because in the hallway with their three enormous ads, Ahyeon and Keunse both stand in a sea of flashing lights and excited fans – unmasked, undisguised, unrepentant. God damn it. His escape plans are dashed against the rocks when Ahyeon spots him and rushes over with a smile that grows infinitely brighter as he gets closer. The crowd parts like it was preordained and they both meet him halfway and greet him warmly.

“Moondae-yah!” Ahyeon says, his usual fussing initiated in front of the cooing crowd recording everything to his never ending humiliation. “How was your trip? We could have picked up you, really, it would’ve been no problem for us.”

“Hello. It was fine, I take that bus all the time,” Moondae assures, looking up at Ahyeon under the brim of his cap and looking up at Keunse next. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re all good, kid,” Keunse laughs, hand automatically coming up to ruffle his hair before visibly remembering that Moondae is currently wearing a hat and he ends up laying his hand there instead. “Everyone has been super nice! We’re all so grateful for the love and support!”

He turns to the crowd when he says this and they explode in unison with a cheer.

“We love you!”

“They’re so fucking cute, I’m going to die.”

“Ahyeon’s face is fucking INSANE, imagine waking up and looking like that.”

“Lee Sejin! You’re so handsome, please marry me!”

“Moondae is actually their child, I can’t believe it.”

Moondae ignores that last comment and waves serenely when he hears people call his name. He’s disassociating and living in ignorance of his current actions for the next few moments, it’s the only way he’ll leave this station unscathed. He’s still waving like an idiot as Keunse’s hand slips from his head and goes around his shoulders to drag him closer to the ads. Keunse lets go when they’re a few feet away and bounds up to the display like an excited child. He holds up his two hands under his photo, as if to display himself.

“Look, Moondae-moondae! Isn’t your hyung so handsome?” It gets the laugh he was looking for and the grin on Keunse’s face gets even bigger. “Make sure you eat your fruits and vegetables and you’ll be just as good-looking one day, kiddo.”

“Lee Keun Sejin-hyungnim looks good there,” Moondae concedes, extra polite like his thoughts aren’t one long continuous censored bleep. “Please give me your phone, I’ll take a picture.”

The crowd around them gasps, excited by the notion of an impromptu photoshoot, and move away like a school of fish to give them room to take their shots. Moondae doesn’t notice though and instead runs through the settings of Keunse’s phone to set the usual ones that he employed back when he was too broke to get a decent camera. One of the data pals he met on the job was genuinely impressed by how much he was able to push his absolutely shitty smartphone to take just a single decent photo. His memory was absolute garbage, his limit back then was around ten raw photographs so he really had to make it count if he wanted the most profit out of his time.

“Sejin-hyung,” Moondae calls out, in the middle of a quick burst to make sure the camera doesn’t capture too much glare from the shiny surface of the ad. “Tilt your chin down a little, yes – like that. Okay, hold for one moment. Great, next pose.”

Sejin does an especially cheesy pose, shamelessly blowing kisses in Moondae and Ahyeon’s direction; the crowd goes absolutely wild for it and he can hear Ahyeon stifle a giggle above him but Moondae can’t hide the distaste on his face. Everyone is also delighted by this. Moondae is sure they’d be happy just to watch him breathe at this point and he files that thought away before he has another breakdown.

“His widdle pout! I’m not going to survive this – Moondae-yah, please just take noona’s wallet at this point. It already belongs to you!”

Moondae can’t even delude himself into believing that he was unaffected by all the weird comments he’s getting and it only gets worse when Keunse snickers and makes a particularly stupid face at him. He knows he’s not getting out of this afternoon undamaged so instead of picking fights with Keunse, he whips around and looks up at Ahyeon with expectant eyes.

“Oh. Oh! Me too?” Ahyeon jumps and points to himself. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t look my best today so I don’t know if I should, ah.”

“If that’s him not at his best, I’m a goddamn sea creature from the abyss.”

“Ahyeon-ah, you’re gorgeous! Take the photos and please upload them to social media!”

“Oh my god, my little photographer Dae, he’s so fucking adorable. I want to put a little beret on him, give him a little megaphone.”

“Please?” Moondae says instead, trying to find any reason to delay having to interact with the crowd once more.

Who Could Say No To That Face? [C] activated!
(Chance of activation: 30%)

Target: Seon Ahyeon
Target "Seon Ahyeon" finds your words a little more convincing with your cute act!

Moondae forces himself to stop clenching his hand so he doesn’t break Keunse’s phone via pure impotent rage. Ahyeon tilts his head and smiles at him again, so full of fondness and affection that Moondae can feel himself heat up from the embarrassment. If he wasn’t already on day three of fever reducers and finally recovering from this past performance, he’d be convinced he was getting sick again.

Thankfully, Ahyeon makes his way in front of his own ad without fussing over him and stands awkwardly. Not for the first time, Moondae wonders how Ahyeon never became a narcissistic monster because even standing there he looked great. But that was a thought to consider for at-home Moondae when he was just about to fall asleep under his heated blankets. Right now, Moondae raises Keunse’s phone once again and with an eye that earned him enough to pay for two semesters of tuition during one single college festival, captures photos in quick succession.

“Hey, why doesn’t he get the third degree?” Keunse complains, hugging around his shoulders from behind and propping his chin on top of Moondae’s head.

“Ahyeon-hyung looks pretty already, he’s already in the perfect pose before I can say anything,” Moondae replies seriously, not even trying to remove Keunse from his person. “Also, unrelated question – how much memory does your phone have, Sejin-hyung?”

“What? Why?”

Moondae raises the phone and tries not to look sheepish when there’s a notification that there’s no memory left to save any photos in the middle of the screen.

“You little-!” Keunse almost curses in front of the crowd but stops himself with a fake smile as he digs his chin into Moondae’s head. “How many photos did you take?”

“Not too many,” Moondae says slowly, lying through his teeth – he had taken several bursts of the both of them so there was at least a hundred raw photos just taking up space. “I’m sorry.”

Keunse lets him go to grumble about Moondae going overboard and starts furiously scrolling through his phone to reset his camera and delete some older photos and videos.

“Moondae-yah!” Ahyeon calls out, waving him over. “It’s your turn, come come.”

Moondae takes this blessing as a way to escape Keunse’s rare wrath and scampers behind Ahyeon for good measure. Ahyeon, instead of acting as Moondae’s human shield, shuffles him over by the shoulders and makes him stand in front of his own ad.

It’s massive, bright and nearly obnoxious – more than anything however, it’s stupidly intimidating. He’s already gotten used to seeing Moondae’s face as his own, he had to get used to it as a day to day shock when he’d wake up and stumble into the bathroom in the mornings, but there was something very strange and out of body seeing it blown up and plastered on a wall for everyone to see right now and continue to see for the next few weeks.

Under the burgeoning anxiety and little thrum of fear, he feels warm. Almost thankful if he wasn’t so wired about the fact that complete and total strangers would be seeing his face daily for a while – in a station that saw thousands of people, the number of people could easily exceed the views he’d get on something like the community forums. They were already ruthless and it was a smaller community who were already giving him an automatic chance because they were aware of idols and how survival shows. The general public could be ten times worse, did he really want to welcome this much attention already?

“Okay, right there!” Sejin says, snapping him out of his thoughts as he maneuvers Moondae’s body into some kind of vision of modeling he had in his head. “Okay, now, all you have to do is stop pouting and then you’re good.”

He’d only be good once Keunse got a punch in the face.

“Smile, Moondae-yah!” Ahyeon calls out, crouched down like a mom at a theme park taking a photo of their child with a poor employee dying in the heat of a full body costume. “Oh! That looks so adorable – okay, hang on, just a few more.”

“Flower pose~!” Keunse teases, but he’s also taking photos on his own phone, apparently successfully having created more room for them. “Cheek heart, maknae! Awww, isn’t he so precious Ahyeon-ah? Puppy ears!”

Moondae hopes some of his murderous intent will finally manifest and knock Keunse clear across the room. None of his thoughts show on his face though as he robotically goes through each ridiculous request. He already has probably the worst image out of all Idol Inc. participants. If someone filmed and posted videos of him being deliberately antagonistic, especially to a popular member like Keunse who was also older than him, he’d never see the light of day and would die before the year was up.

“I think he’s a genius, Ahyeon-ah,” Keunse remarks seriously, showing him his phone screen and swiping through multiple(!) photos. “Look at this and tell me you haven’t seen anything cuter.”

Moondae is horrified, were they really going to do this? Here? Right now?

“Please,” Ahyeon replies, hands over his mouth eyes bright and shiny as he looks down at the photos himself. “Send that one to me, please!”

“You kidding me, Ahyeon-ahyeon? This is going into the group chat!” Sejin crows before turning back around and settling behind his phone to take more photos. “Okay kiddo, one more.”

“That’s what you said the last ten photos,” Moondae replies through gritted teeth. “I think that’s more than enough.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Moondae-yah. We can stop now,” Ahyeon says, looking like a sad forest animal – if Moondae said no now, he’d feel guilty for the rest of his life. “Sejin-ah, that’s enough.”

Keunse just whips around and points at Ahyeon’s sad little face and Moondae already knows he’s going to give in. He sighs and hangs his head for a moment before getting Ahyeon’s attention.

“Um, one more is okay, Ahyeon-hyung but don’t we have somewhere to be after?” Moondae compromises, playing on Ahyeon’s excitement for all the weird tourist traps in Seoul he wanted to visit.

He can’t really find it in himself to be disappointed for too long when Ahyeon’s face lights up.

They barely escape with their lives after shouting a thank you and goodbye post-photoshoot, hauling ass up and out of the subway station and into the nearest taxi that’ll take them. Their trip isn’t too long after that, just enough time for them to examine and exchange their respective photos (too many in Moondae’s case, honestly what was he going to do with all of them when only half – Ahyeon’s half – was salvageable?) and decide on if they’re just going to have to postpone getting lunch together for another day.

Moondae doesn’t remember what he was thinking to lead him to decide this but he doesn’t have the time to regret it when he’s only a few feet away from Nari’s House. He’s made his bed, now he had to lie in it. He stops in the middle of the side road and sighs, and then sighs again when he can practically feel Ahyeon and Keunse’s questioning looks behind him. Moondae turns around, a grave look on his face that belies his regret and nervousness both.

“Don’t,” he starts quietly, making deliberate eye contact with Keunse. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“What?” Keunse replies, confused. “What do you mean?”

Keunse was always quicker than he made himself out to be though and it only takes a moment for the realization to spread onto his face. A grin replaces it in the next and Moondae can already feel the headache forming behind his eyes.

“No way,” Keunse breathes, practically bouncing in place. “Moondae-moondae! Are you serious?”

“What?” Ahyeon asks, head whipping back and forth between the both of them. “What’s going on?”

“Ahyeon-ahyeon,” Keunse simpers, clutching Ahyeon close and wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye. “Our Moondae is bringing us to where he works!”

He should have considered the two parties involved when giving Keunse his demand – he forgot that he no longer just had one person set on humiliating him at every turn. No, he had an entire staff and restaurant of people who were deadset on killing Moondae just by the sheer mortification of existing. It’s stupid, it’s dramatic, it’s needlessly theatrical – Moondae thinks Nari may have been an actor-hopeful at some point because she spots him reluctantly leading his two idiots into Nari’s House and claps her hands over her mouth with a loud gasp.

“Is that…?” she says, hand outstretched tremulously and a wobbly line on her lips like she’s about to actually burst into tears. “Oh my god, it is. Ma! Holy shit, Ma! Daedae-yah is here and he brought his friends! Willingly !”

“What?!” Kyungri’s voice is like a thunderclap even from behind the swinging kitchen door and there’s several crashes before she comes out too. “Park Moondae, you little shit! Zero warning? That’s how you treat me, treat us, after all we’ve been through? We made kimchi together!”

“What,” Moondae says, soul departing his mortal body. “What are you talking about.”

“You know what I’m talking about!” Kyungri finally makes out from behind the door and she has a pan in one hand and her apron in the other. “No heads up? What the fuck kind of loyalty do you have? Now I only have our usual garbage to serve your guests, you’re going to make us look bad!”

“This is garbage?” one of his regular customer says, wide-eyed and aghast as he pokes at his bowl of abalone soup.

Despite this, he still takes another big spoonful, chews, closes his eyes, and hums with consideration.

“Still tastes good, I suppose.”

In the background, Kyungri is still ranting and screaming even as she chops at something at the counter vigorously and then throws it haphazardly into the pan she was carrying around. Two seconds later, the pan is actively on fire.

“Jaesung-hyungnim, she’s joking,” Moondae assures, deadpan and trying to avoid Ahyeon’s and Keunse’s bewildered gazes as they take everything in. “Please enjoy your meal.”

He slips behind them and pushes their uncooperative bodies into walking away from the shitshow, with one hand on each of their backs, He gets them into a corner table, as far as possible from everyone, he has them sit down before he can talk himself out of leaving if only because he was still broke and he got an employee discount here. It doesn’t help that several people greet him with a range of increasingly awful nicknames as he passes by; he can’t even ignore them, they were all people he knew by name and saw several times a month, he couldn’t escape.

“Oh my goodness, we’re so sorry for the mess,” Nari zips into place at the front of the table before Moondae can get up and get them water; she’s already setting down food no one ordered, smiling brightly and tucking her hair behind one ear. “It’s so great to finally meet some of Daedae-yah’s friends! My name is Nari.”

She bows her head briefly and scruffs a hand through Moondae’s hair, something Moondae has learned to accept without a word by now.

“Jeez, you two are so good looking, I’m feeling a little dazzled by the combination.” she teases, propping her chin up onto the table to look at his two friends with big eyes.

“S-so nice to meet you ma’am!” Ahyeon stutters, face completely red but trying to be polite by standing and bowing at a full ninety degrees. “Thank you for having us!”

“I hope that it’s okay that Moondae invited us,” Keunse says sheepishly, bowing in his seat. “That’s Seon Ahyeon and I’m Lee Sejin, we’re on Idol Inc. with Moondae-moondae! Your restaurant is so cozy and warm, everything looks so good!”

“Wow~,” Nari replies, stars in her eyes. “So, you’re the Lee Keun Sejin-hyungnim and you’re the pretty Ahyeon-hyungnim I’ve heard so much about! It’s so nice to finally put faces to these names, Moondae has told me so much about you two.”

Moondae looks outside and wonders if walking into incoming traffic would hurt much. Anything would be better than being right here, right now. Nari made it sound like he was constantly running his mouth about his friends and not like the entire staff had to work together to surgically remove any anecdotes not shown on TV, via threats of showing up at the studio with homemade signs and slogans.

“Aw Moondae-moondae, you talk about us?” Keunse looks like he’s about to cry, Ahyeon is halfway there already. “You little rascal! Nari-ssi, Nari-ssi, what has he said about us?”

Moondae lowers himself in his seat, sliding down so he’s practically slouched under the table. He pulls his cap further over his face and starts serving Ahyeon and Keunse portions from the veritable feast that Nari had dropped off. It was a paltry attempt at a distraction but it was the only chance he had.

“That you’re annoying and that Ahyeon-hyung is nice,” Moondae asserts, making deliberate eye contact with Nari. “That’s it.”

Nari grins at him, unrepentant and he braces himself.

“Oh, tons of stuff. Daedae-yah told us all about how hard you two worked at helping him learn choreography and are always taking care of him even when he doesn’t expect it or need it,” her statements are made worse by the soft, genuine smile on her face. “He also told us how great of a leader you were, Sejin-ssi! That you would always look out for the group and made sure everyone felt included and heard.”

Keunse’s head whips around and he tries to catch Moondae’s eyes but Moondae is keeping them firmly on the food in front of him as he simultaneously tries to melt into the floor.

“And Ahyeon-ssi!” Nari turns to Ahyeon who jumps in place. “Thank you so much for being so kind and sweet to our Daedae-yah, he told us how nervous he was at the start but you really made him feel welcome and safe and continue to every time he has to go back. We’re always worried when he has to go off alone, for days at a time at that, but it looks like we don’t have to worry as much as we did before with you two there.”

A tornado specifically created to pick up Moondae and throw him into the ocean could come and it still wouldn’t be enough to distance himself from the most embarrassing moment of his life. He knows he’s bright red, he’s probably purple at this point, and his hands are shaking as he tries to ignore this extremely harrowing conversation happening inches away from him. Moondae is no longer conscious, he’s just working on autopilot, spooning jeonbokjuk into four separate bowls since it looks like Nari wants to stay and kill him in lieu of working today.

Nari smiles at the both of them as Moondae tries to crawl into the earth to escape and he can feel himself implode when Nari reaches across the table to take both Keunse and Ahyeon’s hands in hers.

“Thank you for loving our Moondae,” she says warmly. “Thank you for being such good big brothers.”

If anyone were to ask how their time at Nari’s House was that day, they’d tell you it was a fairly normal lunch rush until two guests started sobbing on each other at a corner table. However, since Moondae had threatened every single living being with a pulse there into silence, no one would ever know that it was actually three – two from being so utterly and profoundly touched and the other from the indignity of existence.

Chapter Text

It seems to be an encompassing rule in his new life that he must be at his most vulnerable at the most inconvenient times. This is the only way to explain why Heesung, poorly disguised and mildly suspicious in an all black get up remarkably similar to his own during his harrowing ad visit with Ahyeon and Keunse, shows up at Nari’s House while Moondae is wearing his most embarrassing apron.

Forget the fact that Heesung had somehow found out where he worked (he’s already blaming Keunse’s big fat mouth for that), he can’t even take it off because there are none left and it’s better than getting another uncleanable chili oil stain on his dwindling supply of big comfortable hoodies. He’s quite literally can’t afford not to wear this apron. Heesung, wide eyes sparkling, claps a hand over his mouth but it’s too late because Moondae sees the shit eating grin and the automatic way his hand reaches for his phone.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Moondae intones, wielding a pair of long metal chopsticks as Heesung scoots away from the prongs. “I’m not afraid to throw these at you.”

“Moondae-yah, I’m a paying customer,” Heesung says, aghast. “Just because you look extra adorable in a teddy bear apron doesn’t mean you can get away with bad service.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

The apron is disgustingly cute, shaped like a teddy bear face with two hanging paws printed on the pockets and giant red ribbons on either shoulder. Nari had gotten it for him as a New Years bonus in addition to his monetary New Years bonus and what was he going to do? Throw it away? He may actually be an adult man’s soul stuck in a teenager’s body but he wasn’t an asshole.

“Who told you.”

Moondae doesn’t even have to ask really, Heesung was doing everything but meeting his gaze – fiddling with the various sauces, clicking the water jug open and closed over and over again, drumming his chopsticks, being generally annoying in a way that had Moondae wishing Wongil was around to control him, even a little.

“Ah, Lee Keun Sejin-hyungnim,” Moondae says knowingly, nodding to himself when Heesung winces. “Thank you for letting me know, I’ll deal with him later.”

“Ah!” Heesung accidentally lets out a half shout before cutting himself off. “I mean, what? No! Not Keunse-hyung, definitely not.”

Heesung coughs and looks away from his dead eyed stare.

“In his defense, he didn’t mean to say it but he got too excited when we were facetiming and I asked about the ad visit,” Heesung explains sheepishly. “Um, and this was the only place I could think of that he wouldn’t be.”

Heesung emphasizes ‘he’ with a graveness and solemnity that feels out of place on his young face. Moondae rolls his eyes.

“Seoul is very large with many places, Heesung-ah.”

“And yet!” Heesung shouts, slamming his hands over his eyes. “We keep seeing each other! Moondae-yah, it’s so awkward! I literally ran the other way when I saw him yesterday at the department store with his brothers – my mom couldn’t find me for three hours, she almost called the cops for a suspected kidnapping!”

That honestly sounded like a problem unique to Heesung.

“That honestly sounds like a you problem,” Moondae reiterates what he’s been thinking without meaning to, but he just finished working a busy lunch rush so he can’t be blamed for not using his brain. “Why didn’t you text her? Or call her?”

“My phone was in her purse,” Heesung wails, miserable. “I hid behind a plant waiting for them to leave but by the time they were finally gone, my mom wasn’t there anymore.”

“Wow,” Moondae doesn’t know what he could even say about that – shit luck, sorry about that? “Did Wongil-ah see you?”

“Shh! Don’t say his name,” Heesung hisses, pulling his hands away from his face. “It might summon him.”

“He’s not a demon, you can’t just magically make him appear,” Moondae replies with a deadpan look, the entire restaurant is blissfully empty and, after getting permission from Nari, he sits across from Heesung with a sigh. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened with you two?”

It’s not the first time he’s asked, in fact, this marks the seventh. He reached out to them in their dedicated group chat but it stayed silent for nearly a week now. That didn’t mean it was quiet though, Heesung and Wongil both texted him separately, snide comments about each other top of mind. It was honestly adorable how in sync they were despite being in the middle of their first real fight as friends (co-workers?).

After the petty insults were exhausted, the excuses came next. They were both aligned on one thing only - that they weren’t going to say anything about what actually started this entire mess. And Moondae knows he already promised to leave it alone to Keunse and Ahyeon both but he’s a liar first and a human being second.

Heesung bites down on his bottom lip, pulling his hat over his eyes as a red flush climbs from his neck into his cheeks. Moondae senses weakness in the water and presses then, taking advantage the only way he knows how in this life.

“Please?” he asks, honestly and truly feeling helpless at this point – it hasn’t been fun for anyone to have to carefully navigate through their muddled relationship. “I don’t like seeing you two like this. If I’m being annoying or rude about this, let me know but...”

Moondae sighs.

“I’m worried about both of you,” he confesses softly, reluctantly. “If you really don’t think I can be of any help, that’s one thing but can I at least try?”

“Oh my god,” Heesung cries, covering his face again. “Please, no, not the sad eyes! Please don’t!”

Who Could Say No To That Face? [C] activated!
(Chance of activation: 30%)

Target: Kwon Heesung
Target "Kwon Heesung" finds your words a little more convincing with your cute act!

Moondae’s opinion on his stupid system might be turning around a little. You know, the looming, omnipresent, pending death with a countdown spiraling ever closer to D-1, aside.

“Ugh, fine. But if I die from embarrassment, you’re responsible for handling it,” Heesung grumbles, reaching across the table to squeeze Moondae’s hands. “Okay, so. Um. The reason why we both agreed not to tell you despite… everything was because-.”

Heesung cuts himself off and shuts his eyes.

“It’s because,” he says with a gusty sigh before peeking at Moondae through one eye. “We fought because of you.”

Moondae feels his heart drop.

It takes an hour to get the full explanation because after dropping that bomb, Heesung immediately falls into hysterics at the sight of Moondae’s face. Moondae doesn’t know what kind of expression he had to warrant the explosive reaction but the wails of ‘I almost made Moondae cry, everyone is going to kill me!’ explains it. Sure, he was apprehensive(?), shocked(?), to hear that he was the catalyst this entire time but he wasn’t about to cry.

Moondae has to talk Heesung from the metaphorical edge and even deigns to give him a hug, offered for the first time in his entire li(ves), if just to stop the dramatics. The fact that Heesung lets himself be held and gently shushed tells him, at the very least, that Heesung doesn’t hate him.

(Still, there’s a niggling doubt now, he doesn’t have the full story – no one has the full story, what if he missed something? What if he misunderstood the fundamental place he held in his groups’ lives? What if it was all just for the cameras? What if?)

The entire situation comes out in bits and pieces through hiccuping sobs and soft pauses as Nari continuously drops off napkins every few minutes – to eavesdrop, mostly. She’s not fooling anyone. Moondae can tell there’s some actual concern there, but the morbid curiosity is probably winning out since it’s rare to see Moondae interacting with humans - crying humans, even less.

Moondae knew that Heesung and Wongil showed affection via bickering and insulting each other; it was their thing, similar to how he got along with Keunse, if he was being honest. But maybe Wongil was in a bad mood, maybe he was feeling the pressure from the second stage and dwindling number of spots for participants to take, maybe something happened at home. Maybe it was a perfect mix of everything and more, the exact recipe to make the usual ribbing and teasing feel too real and raw.

“I was just- upset , I guess?” Heesung sniffles, resting his head on Moondae’s shoulder. “Usually, Wongil-ah is like, lowkey mean but in a funny bitchy way so that everyone knows everything is a joke. But then he was like, actually being mean? Or at least, it felt like he meant what he was saying and, and, and it sucked!”

Heesung pulls away to dab at his face with the growing stack of napkins before curling back up against Moondae’s side.

“He was criticizing everything I did, Moondae,” Heesung sighs, clearly still upset by whatever Wongil had said. “And every time, he’d say how much easier everything would be if you were on our team. And I agreed, like for real! I liked our second stage team but I would’ve loved if you were there with all of us and I missed you! Everyone did.”

“Thank you,” Moondae says softly, holding up another napkin when new tears spring in Heesung’s eyes. “I missed you guys too.”

Heesung blows his nose with a loud honking noise.

“Wongil was, he, well – it was just getting to be a lot,” Heesung continues. “So I tried to make a joke like, should I go and ask to trade spots with you, Moondae. And that maybe the other team would want me instead.”

“And Wongil just scoffed and was like, Heesung, no one wants you. And that’s just such a Wongil thing to say right? Like, that’s something he says every other day so I don’t know why it just, just, hurt that day.”

Moondae frowns, a little growing pit of sorrow in his chest at the way Heesung sounded so devastated and hurt.

“I said some really terrible things to Wongil after that – some really uncalled for stuff that I shouldn’t say in front of you or else certain people may kill me, so it’s not like it was just all him that’s at fault,” Heesung sighs again. “We just started yelling about whatever came to our minds and you came up a lot and the other guys had to intervene because both of us were crying and yelling to the point the staff had to get involved.”

Heesung stops, taking a sip of water and sniffling. Moondae is reeling just a bit. He didn’t really know what to say in response – he had expected their fight to be over the usual things teenage boys fought about: hurt pride and hormones but this was different.

This fight would have never existed outside of Idol Inc.; their time so far had been fun, but now that the reality of their efforts were starting to show. Online with comments full of hate and love in equal turns, in physical form with advertisements and fan projects, in monetary ways as some of the higher ranked members were able to participate in some small PPL ads on the show.

Some people could handle the pressure of expectation, could thrive under the hyper-scrutinized circumstances but some people would buckle and break, little cracks peeking through their facades the minute there was one unfavorable change. For people like Wongil, who were almost too aware of themselves and perfectionists who wanted to be perceived in a certain way, anything could have tipped him into stress.

Heesung, who was usually bright and confident and could take any of Wongil’s vitriol like a wall of sunshine, was probably feeling the pressure himself. Doubt must’ve started creeping in when he realized that out of the entire first team, he was ranked lowest. It was a respectable place, of course, and he had done incredibly well but clearly, it was bothering him. He had made strange, off hand comments about it in the group chat, trying to lighten his own feelings about coming in last in the team but that didn’t mean he was immune to inferiority.

This was the perfect culmination for a huge blow up and Moondae wasn’t surprised it went as far as it did.

“I see. Well, I can see how that was something you wanted to keep from me,” Moondae makes a considering noise when Heesung curls into himself, looking like a sad little turtle. “But I’m less worried about how I came up in the argument and more so worried about you two. Are you still mad at Wongil-hyung?”

“No,” Heesung pouts, propping his chin onto his knees. “I stopped being mad after that first day, I was just annoyed after that. Ugh, but it feels weird to just say that to him, like, what if he’s still mad at me? I told you, Moondae-yah, I was really mean.”

“It sounds like you both were taking cheap shots,” Moondae says bluntly and sighs when Heesung melts even further into himself. “And knowing Wongil-hyung and how fast he can be, he probably said worse.”

Moondae shoots an evil eye over to the figure enshrouded in the corner booth and rolls his eyes when it flinches.

“Sure, maybe, ugh,” Heesung whines, plopping his head down onto the table hard enough to rattle plates and silverware. “Doesn’t change the fact that I was an absolute dickwad to a friend.”

“Can I tell you what I think?” Moondae says, poking Heesung on the side until he lifts his head.

“Moondae-yah, please,” Heesung practically wails. “Share your wisdom, I’m so desperate dude. I can’t live like this anymore.”

“I think,” Moondae starts, making sure to raise his voice so that everyone in the immediate vicinity can clearly hear him. “That you both know it was a stupid fight and are just too embarrassed to face each other and apologize.”

Heesung winces and the figure in the booth slumps.

“But it’s not entirely your fault,” Moondae concedes and bites back a smile when two heads pop up again in visible hope. “I mean, look at where we are.”

“Um,” Heesung has visible question marks across his face. “We’re in the restaurant? That you work in?”

“No, not that,” Moondae replies patiently, taking a spoon he had dropped into a glass of cold water and gently pressing against Heesung’s eye to help with the swelling from the truly copious amount of tears he shed. “I mean, look at where we are in life, right now.”

Moondae makes sure to meet the shadowed figure’s peeking eyes with a smile before continuing.

“We’re in the middle of one of the most formative periods of our lives all the while also appearing on a TV show currently airing throughout the nation,” Moondae explains gently, switching the spoon to Heesung’s other eye while he blinks down at him in a daze. “And every week, the producers expect a group of teenage boys to come up with performances that most entertainment companies need months to prepare.”

Heesung looks thoughtful, even as he sits with his eyes closed, obediently letting Moondae fuss over him and his painfully swollen eyes.

“We’re constantly being filmed and scrutinized, we’re constantly forcing ourselves to be too aware of what we say and do in fear of very real backlash, deserved or otherwise. We even have to be careful outside of the show now that some people know our faces, we don’t exist as just ourselves anymore,” Moondae murmurs, an unbidden frown crawling onto the corner of his mouth. “You’re stressed, Wongil-hyung is stressed, I’m stressed – this fight was inevitable.”

Heesung still looks like he’s been stung by a bee but at least Moondae can see his eyes again so he counts that as a win.

“I’m just glad it happened now and not during something even more stressful,” Moondae continues, brushing Heesung’s hair away from his forehead. “At least you know where each other’s boundaries are and can be more mindful of it as we continue Idol Inc. together.”

“And think about it this way, you just reached a new level of friendship without me, you two are close enough to fight and make up,” Moondae adds, cheeky. “I’m a little jealous. Should we fight too?”

“No! Never! I would never!”

“YAH! Are you stupid?! Why do you want to fight?”

Moondae hides a laugh in his hand as Wongil, finally emerging from the shadows of the booth in front of them, throws off the dramatic trench coat he was using to disguise himself to yell loud enough to make the eavesdropping Nari jump.

Heesung gasps, genuinely shocked – clearly, he didn’t notice the obvious lump that had been listening in the entire time. Moondae allows himself to feel smug that his carefully planned machinations were coming together in the exact way it played out in his head.

And Keunse said that he didn’t need to get involved – he was never listening to his advice again. The smugness falls away in favor of exasperation and exhaustion when he ends up sandwiched in between his two wailing friends apologizing to each other over his head. He thought the only stains he’d have to watch out for was chili oil today, he didn’t account for the amount of tears Wongil and Heesung could produce, especially together.

Still, life was back to normal and he only had to worry about doing well enough to debut. All was right with the world.

It felt like all Moondae had been doing lately was putting out fires. Every time he thought he was finally done, another issue would pop up and eventually come in between him and his chances of survival. Case in point, today’s episode.

He managed to patch up Wongil and Heesung’s relationship in the span of an afternoon but here comes Idol Inc., ready ruin all of Moondae’s hard work in one tightly packaged 45 minute episode. Moondae could almost respect the writing team, they had truly created a monster of a story line, splicing little moments and conversations into a Frankensteinian horror show that had Moondae and Wongil in the unfortunate starring roles.

He knows he had made a joke about wanting a fight to deepen his own friendships with Heesung and Wongil but it maybe coming true despite his wishes.

It starts off with a bombshell preview of Wongil sobbing mid-interview, looking pitiful beyond words. It paints him in a fairly sympathetic light, cobbling together the narrative that he was stressed from the comments from Coach Mudie about his vocals especially now that he had the main vocal role. That all disappears when the fight happens and the producers opted to completely remove the audio and only reveal implications through vague various interviews.

It paints a damning picture of Wongil who came out of the edit looking like a straight up bully targeting Heesung out of jealousy. It looks bad, it actually looks worse than anything Moondae had expected. It’s cruel, it’s a hideous display of how they weren’t truly people in the eyes of the producers but little entertainment creating machines. And when he thought it couldn’t get even more bleak, Moondae finds himself shuffled into the episode via flashback.

In an attempt to make the blow out look more natural and not as a result of a one-time boiling over of stress and teenage hormones, the production team included scenes with Wongil and Moondae as a way to establish that his bad behavior was apparent from the start.

They had taken several scenes that Moondae thought would never see the light of day; the audition where Wongil had lectured him about the entertainment industry overlaid with tense music to make it seem like Wongil was trying snub him for being a non-trainee.

The first few vocal lessons with Coach Mudie where Wongil let jealousy get the best of him and made some truly scathing, sarcastic remarks that Moondae had misunderstood as real compliments in a montage that only got worse with each comment.

Even more tense and horror-movie adjacent background music featured during a flashback to their first team stage when Wongil was lecturing him about part distributions. The editing team had surgically sliced through his words to make it sound like Wongil was trying to pressure him into giving up his parts when it was completely the other way around.

Most damning, however, was the fact that a camera had captured a scene of them walking together through the hallways and disappearing behind the metal door of the stairwell. There was a pause before they were seen again, Wongil practically running away and Moondae following after a brief moment looking exhausted.

In every scene, Moondae was pictured with his head bowed down, hands clasped together politely nodding every so often whenever Wongil would stop to ask for an agreement or acknowledgment of his words. It made for a pitiful picture of a bully with his victim. Juxtaposed with the fight with Heesung, it was basically a hit job aimed straight at Wongil.

Moondae doesn’t know why they wanted this story line, why they thought to completely destroy Wongil’s reputation in less than fifteen minutes, why they wanted to ruin an ambitious and talented young man’s dream without any hope of recovery all for a few more eyes and a handful of viral articles that would only temporarily boost interest.

He’s furious, nearly incandescent with rage and Moondae slams his fist down onto his shaky bed table as the episode ends with the preview of his team’s performance. Guileless, completely disregarding everything they did to Wongil and his character like it was nothing. Moondae can barely see through the haze of red and his hands are shaking as he calls Wongil, nearly frantic when the ringing goes on too long. He breathes a sigh of relief when Wongil finally picks up.

“ ...Moondae-yah,” Wongil greets, voice tiny and echoing in his ear before the calm shatters entirely. “Moondae-yah, what do I do? ”

Moondae’s heart breaks over and over again that night, listening to Wongil sob over the phone, helpless to do anything to change what’s already gone out. He’s heard Wongil cry before, he’s heard him wail and sob and apologize, but he’s never heard him like this. Like a wounded animal, punched out breaths and devastation – barely able to breathe through his own tears, drowning in his sadness until his voice is raw and ragged.

“It’s going to be okay,” Moondae promises, and it is a promise he’s going to keep because he isn’t going to take this laying down. “Wongil-hyung, it’s going to be okay. I’m going to fix it, okay? I’ll take care of it. It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.”

“Why would they- why?” and it’s the sound of a hurt child who can’t fathom the cruelty of adults. “What did I do? Why would they do this?”

“I don’t know,” Moondae whispers, feeling his throat get tight. “I don’t know but I know you did nothing wrong. Everything-, everything was fake and people will see through that.”

“Why did they do this? To you, to me?” Wongil cries, his hitching breaths catching painfully on every letter. “Why? Why? What did I do? Don’t they know how much I love you? How do I even apologize for this, what can I do?”

“No,” Moondae cuts in, trying to be firm even as he can feel his own voice start to waver and shake. “You’re not the one who has to apologize. Never, never apologize for this. Nothing is your fault. I’ll- I’ll do something. I can do this for you.”

Moondae lets out a shaky breath.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.”

He can hear the exact moment Wongil cries himself to sleep and Moondae wonders, heartsick and heartbroken, if it was even worth it to go back. After all, Idol Inc. already killed one child and their hopes and dreams without remorse, what was one more?

Chapter Text

shooters for moondae @moondae_idolinc ・ 1h
absolutely disgusting how That company is not only allowing bullying to happen but recording and broadcasting EVERYTHING. park moondae deserves better. #BOYCOTT_IDOLINC

Blue Chip Stock Moondae ⬆️ @moondaeyaaah ・ 51 m
What’s Happening on Idol Inc., a thread (1/46)
#BOYCOTT_IDOLINC

wonwon-yah @number1chois ・ 47 m
A BREAKDOWN OF WHY CHOI WONGIL IS INNOCENT AND THE NARRATIVE HAS BEEN COMPLETELY SKEWED (with proof!) #BOYCOTT_IDOLINC

choi wongil for debut! @wonand_only ・ 40m
the way everyone is taking that moondogs side without even looking at the facts. i'm so sick of the lies. #MOONDAE_OUT

moondae for president @moon_daze ・ 35 m
replying to @wonand_only
moot you cannot be serious, your fave was caught IN 4K, BULLYING AND HARASSING not just one contestant but kwon hees e ung as well come back to reality, your family misses you

choi wongil for debut! @wonand_only ・ 32 m
replying to @ moon_daze
the fact you’re buying into the narrative is so sad i thought you’d at least use your brain ex-moot when has tnet EVER portrayed anything honestly????

moondae for president @moon_daze ・ 30m
replying to @wonand_only
literally just using my eyes and i'm more bothered by the fact that you saw what happened, assumed tnet was lying and still want to promote that stupid hashtag – if you were actually honest you’d just come out and say you just straight up don’t like moondae

cha eugene or die @neu_gene ・ 21m
SO FUCKING SICKKKKK of park moondae!! all he does is bring negative attention to the show!!!!! it’s IDOL INC not the park moondae clown hour!!!! #MOONDAE_OUT

BORN IDOL CHA EUGENE @chasing_eugene ・ 17m
Absolutely. Every Time. Some Dumb Shit Happens. Park Moondae is at the scene of the crime, I’m so tired of his stupid face when Idol Inc. comes on. #MOONDAE_OUT

cha eugene or die @neu_gene ・ 14m
replying to @chasing_eugene
dude right, i feel so bad that our eugene is stuck on a team with him like get him out of there!!!! he needs to get away from him before some other moondog bullshit happens and he gets dragged into it too!!!

saving this for moondae when he debuts @moondae_idolinc ・ 11m
nothing but love and support to both park moondae and kwon heeseung! having something so traumatizing and awful immortalized on tv and on the internet cannot be easy – hang in there boys, i can’t wait to see you debut together! <3

lil raebun 🐰 @raebunny ・ 9m
idk what anyone says, someone who is as ride or die for raebin as park moondae is can’t be a bad person!!! everyone who is jumping on the bandwagon is doing so because they know he’s a threat to their fave!!! sorry but come to terms with the truth!!!

1^st place cha eugene @blueugenes ・ 5m
replying to @raebunny
a threat LMAO call me when moondog can do more than just belt out a shaky and unstable high note and walk around the stage. i've never seen a more wooden performer in my fucking life.

to the moon and back! @moon_days ・ 2 m
replying to @ blueugenes
“shaky and unstable” we aren’t talking about your mental health. touching grass won’t be enough for you, go eat dirt :)

to the moon and back! @moon_days ・ 1s
anyway, i hope park moondae is having a wonderful day where he’s surrounded by an astronomical amount love and support and everyone tells him he’s smart and adorable and perfect and talented!

“Moondae, no. Absolutely not. And- actually hang on, I can see the look on your face. Let me repeat myself so it gets through your thick, stubborn skull. No. NO. No and no.”

Moondae settle s into a practiced mask of neutrality but it’s not as effective as he thinks it is when Wongil rolls his eyes again and reaches out to clasp him by the shoulders.

“Park Moondae, you brat. I said, NO,” Wongil shakes him firmly with every word and Moondae lets himself be swayed to cover the look of distaste that comes unbidden on his face. “I don’t need your help so stop with the blackmail plans, you little psycho!”

“Help can be freely given,” Moondae replies, rationally and pragmatically, considering all his plans with a calm and cold objectivity. “But it can also be forced.”

“I’m going to murder you with my bare hands,” Wongil states his voice teetering on the edge of manic and looking like he was about two seconds from snapping and wrapping his hands around Moondae’s neck. “Stop trying to butt in, this is my problem to solve – not yours! Just focus on yourself, brat!”

“Why would I do that? I’m fine, your image is the one that needs the most rehabilitation,” Moondae scoffs, crossing his arms and looking off to the side. “Most people don’t like me anyway so whatever they’re saying isn’t too different from the usual.”

“What are you talking about?” Wongil wails, covering his own face as if trying to hide from the entire situation. “They love you! They hate me! Stop trying to bring your image down to my level – I’ll be fine, I don’t need you to swoop in and try to save the day. You’re only going to end up hurting yourself and I refuse to let that happen.”

“Your Twitter feed is clearly on a different algorithm,” Moondae mutters to himself. “I won’t get hurt, I’m just going to talk to the head writer for a little bit and remind him that his private Instagram isn’t that private and I know exactly where he spends his time after work when he should be home with his very nice wife.”

Moondae ignores the half-terrified faces sitting across from him and Wongil as he calmly sips at the lavender and mugwort tea that Nari’s House recently started stocking. It was a little floral for his palette but he needed something to distract and occupy him. Supposedly, it was supposed to be a relaxing, pain-relieving tea but the pounding headache at his temples persisted.

After ‘the episode’ was aired, Moondae wanted nothing more than a drink and had despaired anew when he remembered there was no conceivable way to get one – not when everyone in his life was firmly hovering and there was a chance someone would find out and lambaste him online even more than what’s already been said. He doesn’t like to think of himself as dependent on alcohol, but he can’t deny that not being able to drink and drown out his constantly running mind is taking a mental toll.

“How in the hell…?” Keunse mutters from across the table to a rapidly paling Ahyeon next to him. “Should we be worried?”

“Hell no!” Heeseung answers for Ahyeon, aghast. “How could he? Moondae-yah, we should tell his wife anyway! What a scumbag!”

Moondae reaches out to steady the metal cup that Heeseung’s angry arm waving had nearly knocked over with a practiced hand and nods to himself. He always knew Heeseung was the most reasonable one in their circle. Iljoon, sitting in between him and Wongil as a buffer, whips his head to look at Moondae with real fear in his eyes.

“Moondae,” he starts nervously. “I thought we agreed that we’d drop any plans of blackmail? You know, for my sanity? My stress levels?”

“It’ll be okay, Iljoon-hyung,” Moondae soothes, pouring out a cup of tea for Iljoon. “Just look away when the fall out happens and pretend like you don’t know anything.”

“But,” Iljoon replies, meek and inching away from him. “I don’t know anything?”

“Yes, exactly,” Moondae smiles warmly, gently encouraging Iljoon to try the tea – it was better once his palette adjusted after a bit. “Nothing at all.”

“Yah, stop making Iljoon-hyung nervous, brat!” Wongil scolds, scooting over in his seat to let Iljoon huddle closer. “We are 100% not getting involved in that shitstorm. Anyway, she probably already knows based on what’s she’s been posting on her own Instagram.”

Wongil downs his water like he’s taking a shot before he turns and peeks around Iljoon to address Moondae directly, ignoring the startled looks being thrown his way now. Iljoon, stuck between two evils, looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Listen to me carefully because this is the last time I’m saying it,” and Moondae is simultaneously impressed and discomfited by his serious tone despite himself. “Park Moondae, you’re going to let me take care of this on my own. No, I don’t want your help even though, yes, I do appreciate it.”

“This. Is. Not. Your responsibility. It’s mine,” Wongil emphasizes. “Although they definitely messed with the context, it doesn’t change that I said what I said and did what I did. The fact that my attitude came off that way to the cameras and writing team just means that I should’ve taken care of my image more. So please, if you even have a modicum of respect for me, you’ll leave it alone.”

This doesn’t necessarily take the wind out of his sails, not when the anger is still simmering just under the surface, however Moondae can’t help but feel guilty. No matter what Wongil said, it still feels like he played a huge part in the story line. While the conflict between Wongil and Heeseung occupied a bigger part of the episode, Moondae was Wongil’s first ‘victim’ after all, he was the evidence that dealt the biggest blow to Wongil’s reputation.

Wongil is putting up a convincing facade in front of their friends but Moondae, who had heard every hiccuping sob, every painful breath, every single question of why (how, when, why, why, why, why) knows better. He knows better and he knows that his rage won’t be quelled until everyone knows the truth and the production team is ripped a new one for taking advantage and preying on all these kids’ dreams.

“Okay,” But Moondae concedes, meek and quiet, the echoing sound of Wongil’s endless tears and sorrow reverberating in his head. “If that’s what Wongil-hyung wants, then I’ll listen and I won’t do anything.”

Wongil sighs and presses a hand against his chest like he’s been relieved of actual pain and the guilt grows acute.

“Thank you,” he says, simply before turning back towards him to smile. “Thank you, Moondae.”

The atmosphere isn’t warm necessarily, but it is easier to look at Wongil and not want to go up to the team and quit the show right on the spot. Moondae swallows down the regret and automatic protest and nods back.

“Wow,” Keunse’s voice breaks the tense silence. “And here I was worried about the stupid stock selling thing – wow, just. Wow. Sorry, can we go back to the part where you gathered us today to try and blackmail the head writer? Moondae-moondae?”

No one answers him, for the sake of their sanity, and their lunch goes by quickly and quietly. The entire situation aside, it’s elimination day and while they all did relatively well, no one could be sure anymore with the stock selling mechanic introduced in the last episode so it’s not a surprise when it’s tense and a little bleak. Moondae is just glad that no one is too hung up about it in the face of the Wongil situation.

Nari waves them off with optimistic cheer that everyone is too polite to not smile at and they hop into a large cab to head over to filming. There are fans waiting outside of the studio and the low roar boils over into frenzy when they all see that Moondae and Wongil are together.

There’s confusion first, shock and suspicion next when Moondae, as planned, makes it a point to stick as close as physically possible to Wongil without actually hanging onto him. Wongil looks as composed as the next person but Moondae watches as his shoulders crawl up to his ears like he’s trying to hide himself as the whispers grow and the pointing and comments become more than white noise.

Each flash of a camera feels like a condemnation and Moondae knows he agreed to let Wongil handle the situation himself but who was he if he didn’t involve himself anyway? Wongil is holding up admirably and the rest of the group act like a barrier between them and the rest of the world but his steps falter when a whispered comment about how shameless he was for showing his face carries over the rest of the noise.

Moondae stops with him, ignores the pressing faces of fans and detractors alike and reaches out to hold him by the elbow. His grip is gentle, his face is neutral so nothing can be gleaned and used by anyone looking at them, recording them, perceiving them.

“Let’s go, Wongil-hyung,” he says softly, making sure Wongil’s eyes were on him only. “We’re going to be late.”

“Alright,” Wongil replies, voice small. “Let’s go.”

They walk in together. Moondae doesn’t let him go.

Moondae already knew it was coming but knowing that thousands of people wanted to get rid of him feels worse than expected, especially when they don’t realize they hold his literal life in their hands. Moondae’s rank drops from where it started at 5^th place to 9^th – teetering on the edge of double digits. He was disappointed in the moment but more relieved than anything else, knowing how polarizing of a figure he was there was a very real chance he could have been pushed all the way to the cut off.

That relief, however, turns into a sour bitterness when he sees that his original rank was actually third before the stock selling. He should have seen it coming honestly; he had watched in real time as people started to turn against him online. While Wongil still had taken the brunt of the damage, there was a very vocal segment of his fans who had been determined to defend him by lambasting Moondae and Heeseung.

He watched as they quickly organized, creating donation pools of varying amounts to sell their stocks as retribution and it only got worse when Cha Eugene’s fans joined in and both boosted these posts to their very large audiences and added to the total. Moondae wasn’t sure what he did to specifically earn their ire but it seemed like a majority of his fans absolutely detested him. Before he just felt bad that Eugene had to be saddled with such toxic fans but now that it was weaponized against him, it was a new layer of hell.

Moondae was just glad that Heeseung wasn’t affected by the sold stocks because he would have certainly been kicked off his placements if they counted. It was clear that he recognized that as well when they exchanged shaky-eyed looks at the sheer amount of sold stocks that sat beside their names. Moondae had wordlessly reached over and squeezed his hand and pretended like he couldn’t feel how it trembled in his grasp.

“Park Moo~ndae!”

Moondae had been sulking resting against the wall before filming started up again when he felt like he was run over by a truck. He lays limp in Cha Eugene’s hold for a brief moment as the older boy rubs his cheek against the top of his head.

“Yah, yah,” Eugene crows, sounding pouty above him. “Why didn’t you join me and your Raebin-hyung to go see our ads the other day? [Your rejection had me feeling emotional dude, almost shed a tear and everything]. I thought we were friends, Moo~ndae!”

“Ow,” Moondae replies, deadpan. “I apologize, I had work that day.”

Moondae, like usual, catches only about half of what Eugene was saying initially before his brain reboots and finishes the rest. He was fairly good at reading, writing and speaking other languages during his time in high school and college (and by proxy of being chronically online) but he was sure most people would still need an hour or so to parse through Eugene’s Eugene-isms, regardless of proficiency.

There was also this new thing he was doing where he would only refer to Kim Raebin as ‘your Raebin-hyung’. Moondae doesn’t know if it’s a vocal tic he learned and can’t stop using but the way Raebin reacts, turning into a gradient of different reds across his face, is entertaining enough that Moondae doesn’t want to correct him.

“Work? [They make babies work here too? I thought the ‘work until you’re dead and maybe still even then’ sentiment was an American original],” Eugene muses. “I thought I’d have more culture shock but there’s still a bunch of familiar things!”

“Ah yes,” Moondae nods, letting himself be manhandled like a teenage-sized stuffed animal as he was often subjected to in this new life. “Overwork is very much a cultural norm here too, to a very detrimental degree. Also I’m 17, hyung, please don’t call me a baby.”

“Aww, but it fits so well!” Eugene coos, scruffing through his hair.

It’s easy to underestimate Eugene, Moondae muses; with his bright and bouncy personality and half fluent cadence, he sounds almost like a child. Moondae isn’t fooled though, from the small snippets he would catch Eugene muttering under his breath or shouting out loud, he’s clearly intelligent and just doesn’t have the full vocabulary to express it.

And he knows that Eugene is aware of this too, he could see how the frustration would build sometimes when he couldn’t clearly say what was so easy to do in one tongue but was a monumental task in the other. Perhaps that’s why Eugene was so quickly attached to him; Moondae remembers the way his eyes sparkled and his excitement reached terminal levels when Moondae had casually replied to one of his asides.

He had jumped onto him, giving Moondae his first experience in the patented Cha Eugene tackle-hug, and swung him around babbling in English. Moondae had to gently explain to him that while he understood a majority of his words, he was still very much a novice and needed some time to translate everything in his head. Eugene didn’t seem to care, more ecstatic that someone could finally understand just how funny he was. Moondae was inclined to agree despite Raebin scoffing his fervent disagreement.

“Cha Eugene!” And speak of the devil. “Stop that, you’re going to hurt him!”

“Oh, there he goes again. [Are we sure he’s not actually your mom?]” Eugene giggles are extra loud in his ear. “[The features are different, yeah, but maybe your dad was prettier.]”

Eugene cackles to himself and Moondae bites the inside of his cheek to stifle his own laugh but Eugene just cackles even harder when he sees the twisted line of his mouth.

“Cha Eugene, stop squeezing him like that!”

“Aww boo, your Raebin-hyung found us,” Eugene pouts and hooks his chin on top of Moondae’s head. “He’s here to kill any joy left in this place.”

“Don’t be mean,” Moondae scolds, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself. “It’s okay Raebin-hyung, I’m fine. Eugene-hyung just wanted to know why I wasn’t able to join your ad visit. Again, I’m sorry for missing out.”

“O-oh, please, you don’t have to apologize,” The switch from Kim Raebin at a ten to a gentle and sweet Kim Raebin gives him the usual whiplash. “Of course your job takes priority, don’t feel burdened by our expectations.”

There’s a shy, soft smile on his face that warms up his entire aura and Moondae squints at how bright and dazzling he looks – he was surrounded by so many good looking people, it was starting to give him a complex.

“Yeah, yeah. Just feel burdened by his disappointment instead!” Eugene adds, seemingly guileless. “[Dude, he was soooo sad. To the point that I almost felt bad for making him pay for lunch – almost].”

Moondae swears he’s going to end up with a burst lung one of these days from trying not to laugh at everything that came out of Eugene’s mouth. His stats were entirely correct, he was too charismatic to have ever been just a normal person. He was clearly destined to be a star and if it wasn’t as a performer, he could definitely give comedy a try.

“Cha. Eu. Gene.” Raebin grits out, finally hauling him off of Moondae. “I don’t need to understand what you said exactly to know that you’re making fun of me, shut up!”

“Raebin-hyung,” Moondae calls out in an attempt to save Eugene’s life, if just as thanks for digging him out of his bad mood. “Maybe we can go together next time?”

Moondae smiles, tilting his head to the side, amused as Eugene tries to climb all over Raebin instead. It was like watching an excitable kitten trying to play with an older irritable cat and it brings a sense of peace Moondae has only ever felt watching cute animal videos. Raebin goes bright red, a familiar enough look that Moondae has stopped feeling worried (clearly Raebin was just very shy with anyone who wasn’t Eugene) and starts stuttering.

Eugene throws him a thumbs up from behind Raebin’s malfunctioning figure and Moondae, from where’s he sitting on the floor, looks up at Raebin and Eugene standing above him and reaches out to tug at the hem of Raebin’s sweater.

“I can text you the days I’m free ahead of time if that makes it easier,” Moondae offers, letting go of the fabric when Raebin makes wide-eyed contact with him. “What do you think?”

Raebin freezes absolutely still and goes silent, mouth stiff and something like fear on his face.

“[Holy shit],” Eugene is nearly seizing he’s laughing so hard. “You broke your Raebin-hyung in less than a minute this time – are you going for a world record?”

“He~y, what are you kids doing over here?”

The light is blocked out by Keunse’s head as he sidles into their conversation, looming over Moondae like a particularly annoying tree. He drops his hand on Moondae’s head and Moondae refrains from swiping it off his head when the cameras start panning their way.

“Oh! It’s Lee Sejin B, hello hello!” Eugene is enthusiastic, if a bit disrespectful, but Keunse seems to take it in stride with a laugh.

“That’s Lee Sejin-hyungnim to you,” Raebin scolds, tugging Eugene back when he gets too close to them both. “Hello, Lee Sejin-hyungnim. I hope you’ve been well.”

Keunse looks awkward and discomfit in the face of Raebin’s genuine respect, too used to Moondae’s put upon, often sarcastic brand of respect, and waves his hand when Raebin bows low.

“Oh, you can just call me Keunse! Everyone does,” he says cheerily, there’s a tension in his face however and it’s too similar to how he looks around the other Lee Sejin – Moondae wonders what Kim Raebin of all people could have done to warrant that reaction. “You doing alright, kid?”

He looks down at Moondae, eyes rounded out in a soft smile and it takes too long for Moondae to realize what the three of them look like – Moondae on the floor while Raebin and Eugene both stand over him, one laughing, the other looking frustrated.

“I’m fine,” Moondae blurts out before he can stop himself feeling flush, looking between Keunse and the other two who are still trying to trample each other. “We were just catching up.”

He tells himself that he’s overthinking it when Keunse relaxes and pats him on the head again, he tells himself that Keunse was just being nosy and wanted to be part of the conversation, he tells himself that there was no reason for someone he barely knew to feel concerned over what looked somewhat suspect. Moondae can’t tell if the denial is working but he’s sticking to it anyway.

Moondae hopes that winning a kimchi fridge is a sign of better times coming for him. While he’s had his fun and met some truly wonderful people, he’s probably lost years off of his prospectively short life from the sheer stress of being on Idol Inc. He sends a brief thanks to Moondae’s parents’ good genetics because he’s surprised he hasn’t lost hair yet from the mental and physical toll the show has taken on his body and life. All he wants is some normal teammates; normal, capable teammates who planned to try their best and give their all to their performances.

Moondae sighs when Keunse and Iljoon do another strange dance in their excitement over being teammates again and smiles tiredly when Ahyeon brushes his hair out of his face. Well, at least he had Ahyeon and Raebin.

“Alright boys,” Keunse has them gathered around on the floor and steeples his fingers in front of his face. “I think it’s time.”

“Time for what?” Iljoon asks, flopped over on his side.

“Okay, hear me out,” Keunse starts tone imploring, a negative sign already. “A sexy concept… thoughts?”

He looks at every single one before landing on Moondae’s deadpan face and visibly starts.

“Excluding Moondae-moondae for obvious reasons,” he adds quickly, waving his hands. “We can, um, we can. We can do something?”

“Okay, that’s one option,” Moondae says, taking pity and throwing Keunse a visible conversational life raft. “Ahyeon-hyung, what do you want to do?”

Ahyeon flushes to the roots of his hair, cupping his cheeks in his hands while he rambles about a prospective song choice; he looks so endearing that Moondae has to shield his face to be spared the full force of his pretty face – like he’s said before, truly a complex at this point. Forget debuting, even if he did how could he look anything but like a swamp creature next to Ahyeon? No, Moondae isn’t being biased at all, who the fuck said that?

“How about you Raebin-hyung?” Moondae prompts the other timid of the team and before Ahyeon can backtrack and insist they don’t have to do the song he chose, he turns to Iljoon who looked like wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. “And Iljoon-hyung too. Do either of you have anything in mind?”

It’s a fairly fruitful discussion, barring Keunse insisting that the word ‘sexy’ please not come out of his mouth for his sake (which how was that Moondae’s fault? He wasn’t the one who brought it up in the first place), though it takes some time for Moondae to fully explain the vision he has when he suggests ‘moon rabbits’.

By the end of the hour, their team is already elbow deep in work. Ahyeon and Iljoon have started to parse out the choreography, mapping possible formations and positions for a team of five; Keunse ran off to take the initiative to get their concept approved as soon as possible, armed with a quick presentation and notes; and Moondae sits close to Raebin as they each have one ear bud in, listening to the original song with a sheet of its original lyrics already half scribbled out while Raebin has the track in already broken down on the laptop in front of him.

“Raebin-hyung,” Moondae calls out, eyes closed and trying to rearrange the verses in his head. “What if we take the hook and make it the first verse instead? The lyrics are a little more thematically relevant to the concept than the original verse.”

Raebin pauses in the middle of splicing the audio and scoots closer to Moondae’s seat, his chin over Moondae’s shoulder as he reads through all the notes he’d been frantically scribbling down. He hums, the noise low and considering and Moondae crosses another outdated line that they could definitely rewrite.

“Maybe,” Raebin finally concludes, a thoughtful frown on his lips. “We’ll have to do a few edit passes to make sure the cadence doesn’t clash with the instrumentals-.”

Raebin is cut off by a loud commotion outside. They straighten up in their chairs, removing their ear buds while Ahyeon and Iljoon shuffle closer to the open door of their practice room, wary. There’s a few worrying sounds of shouting before quick, stomping steps come in quick succession their way. Moondae gets up automatically, missing the way Raebin reaches out to try and hold him back. Lee Sejin A passes their door in a hurry, face red and tears streaming down his face.

Moondae doesn’t give himself the time to think about it and runs after him.

Chapter Text

Moondae hopes to all that is good and holy that there are no cameras to record him crouched against a low partition, carefully listening in on a conversation he has no reason to try and join. He doesn’t know what level of hell his reputation will end up at but he’s also in too deep to crawl away and act like he didn’t run after Ryu Chungwoo and Lee Sejin. He’s still not sure what possessed him to follow them.

“It’s okay, Sejin-ssi,” Chungwoo tries, his voice pitched low and soothing. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, just come back to the practice room and we can all talk about it.”

“No,” Sejin’s voice is hard, closed off and insistent. “I’m not going back. Everyone there, everyone in our team- you all, you’re all just-.”

There’s a bitten off sound and a muffled sob. Moondae doesn’t need to see what’s going on to know that Sejin is clearly overwhelmed and that there’s nothing Chungwoo says will get through until he calms himself down. It’s more upsetting than he expects, to hear someone cry and try to hide it, making himself smaller and quieter so the mics can’t pick anything up to use against them, so the camera crew can’t pinpoint their location and film everything in terrifying quality to be blasted onto the screens of millions of strangers. Wongil’s cries echo in his head and he grips at the fabric stretched over his knees to give his hands something to do.

There’s a low murmur, barely audible, before Chungwoo raises his voice calling after Lee Sejin. The sound of rapid footsteps moving further away and down the hallway persists until it’s silent. Moondae stops breathing, suddenly all too wary of being heard. When the quiet stretches for another long moment, he deems it safe enough to run back to the practice room. He feels a little foolish, certainly for running after two people he barely knew and barely knew him, and for thinking he had any reason to be around.

Still, there’s an uncomfortable feeling of responsibility, misplaced as it was, ever since he’s had to listen to his friend cry out about the way this show treated them, this very show that was meant to save his life while simultaneously ruining others.

Moondae peeks around the corner, if just to sate the feeling of inadequacy, at being unable to do anything to help these poor kids, when he comes nose to chest with another human being. In line with much of his second life, his luck was god awful. At this point, he’d trade in his Charm stat for a Luck stat; it would definitely benefit him far more.

It’s with a feeling of shame and abject humiliation both when Moondae peers up at Ryu Chungwoo. He seems larger like this, towering over Moondae who stooped over to try and see around the corner, and his disapproval practically weighs the air down. The glare on his fierce face is terrifying for a brief moment before it falters and melts into a confused look.

“Moondae-yah?” he says bewildered, he drops his arms that were folded tight across his chest and tilts his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Is he okay?” Moondae blurts out, practically interrupting Chungwoo’s question. “Is Sejin-hyungnim alright?”

Chungwoo sighs.

“Moondae-yah, I can’t-.”

“I just,” Moondae doesn’t know what it is about Ryu Chungwoo that has him feeling discomfit and uncomfortable but it feels especially egregious when he actually interrupts him. “I’ve just never seen Lee Sejin-hyungnim like that. It was, it’s-.”

Maybe it’s because Ryu Chungwoo, in this life and in his previous one as Gunwoo, is a year older than him so he feels like he has to show actual regard. Maybe it’s because Chungwoo feels like a leader, like a pillar, like a reliable, respectable figure. Maybe it’s because he has seen Chungwoo in action and seen how he’s stepped up and lead several groups well despite his young age.

“Hey, breathe,” Chungwoo cuts in, placing a large warm hand on his head. “It’s okay, kiddo. Your Lee Sejin-hyungnim is feeling a bit stressed out right now, but don’t worry. He’ll be alright once he gets some space and time to relax.”

Moondae sighs, it’s advice and a gentle reminder he’s heard more than once at this point. But the rational, results-orientated part of his brain that never turns off is screaming at him to fix this problem. He’s never felt so helpless than when Wongil begged, pleaded and eventually demanded he leave the whole debacle alone. Now, faced with a similar situation, it feels like another opportunity to miss.

Worse, there’s a bit more weight to this particular time bomb. Moondae can’t be 100% sure which Lee Sejin is going to be involved in a drug scandal but with the way the older Lee Sejin was spiraling, this event could easily have lead to some kind of drug use and eventual abuse. Every moment this issue wasn’t being solved was a step closer to another bad ending.

“You hear me, Moondae-yah?” Chungwoo ruffles his hair a bit and pokes him in the middle of his forehead, tilting his head back so they’re making direct eye contact. “I know you want to help but the best thing you can do right now is focus on your work.”

Chungwoo is far less indulgent than the others and it’s clear that there isn’t a way to worm his way around this. It’s easier with the others – Ahyeon and Keunse both tend to overindulge him, Wongil and Heeseung are almost too supportive and Iljoon could easily be swayed if he looked sad enough. Chungwoo’s gaze, however, read far more adamant and stern; it’s a look that says he won’t take no for an answer. He isn’t unkind about it, nor is he scolding or accusing Moondae of anything, but he sets a clear boundary that Moondae knows better than to test.

“I hear you, hyungnim,” Moondae replies, only a touch petulant. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Chungwoo assures and he looks so put together and mature that Moondae feels the petulance leave him like a dying spirit; it’s unfair that they’re close in age but he can easily make Moondae feel like he’s just a child with a few words. “Alright kid, get going. It’s time to head back to your group.”

Moondae can accept a loss – no really, he can. Just because he was slightly cowed by Chungwoo’s steely rationale (and a tiny bit scared of his disapproval, but like, only a little), didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and fix this to-be debacle anyway. Moondae, burdened by future knowledge, knew better than Chungwoo and no amount of scary-leader aura would stop him.

If he looked over his shoulder as he snooped around and tried to find where Lee Sejin was, that was just natural wariness and had nothing to do with Ryu Chungwoo. Everything would be fine.

Everything was emphatically not fine.

Moondae should just keep his thoughts to himself next time. Every time he insisted something would go right, it would flip-turn and land face down instead. Truly, he had no one to blame but himself – Ryu Chungwoo clearly knew better, he was going to start heeding his advice in earnest in the future.

“Park Moondae,” Lee Sejin somehow manages to look enraged even tearful. “We may have been on a team together but we are not friends.”

Which, while true, ouch. That one stung a little, Moondae wasn’t too prideful to admit it. It’s not like he was facing delusions that everyone loved him on this show; he’s seen a few looks thrown his way and he knows for a fact that the camera that has worked at ruining his life these past few months is also a big reason why he’s been left alone despite everything. Still, no one liked being told something like that so bluntly despite the its veracity.

“Of course,” Moondae tries to demure; he’s definitely fucked up. “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to-.”

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean to do anything,” Lee Sejin interrupts, a furrow in between his eyebrows and an upset red climbing onto his cheeks. “You’re sticking your nose into something that doesn’t concern you. Worse, you’re inserting yourself into a situation that doesn’t even marginally involve you.”

Moondae can feel his pulse pounding, a heavy thud that climbs from his chest into the back of his eyes and he can feel himself flush hot all over his entire body. For all that he’s complained of abject humiliation in this life, this is the first time that he feels the shame and mortification so acutely that it hurts. He doesn’t really understand why this is affecting him so much, not when so much worse has been said to him in the past and rolled off his shoulders without another thought.

He’s blaming the teenage hormones, that had to be it.

Moondae keeps his head bowed, not wanting to look up and Lee Sejin and see the rage and annoyance on his face anymore. Lee Sejin isn’t that much taller than him, probably 10cm or so but under his glare, he feels so much taller and Moondae feels positively minuscule.

He doesn’t need to look up to know that he’s crossed a line and flinches when the metal door slams with a loud crash. There’s a stunned silence in the Hard Conversation Stairwell he’s dragged multiple people into since the start of Idol Inc.

Well, that could’ve gone better.

Moondae drags his trembling hands over his face before taking a slow, deep and measured breath that comes out too shaky and pitiful. He was a grown man, he wasn’t going to let something as silly and insignificant as hurt feelings ruin his day (the guilt, however, just might do it instead). Once he feels like the ground isn’t swaying under him, Moondae feels normal enough to go back to the practice room. He was only gone for a handful of minutes, on a supposed bathroom break, but the minute he gets back into the room he’s surrounded by all sides.

“Woah, hey, what’s wrong? What’s going on, little guy?” Keunse tips his face up by the chin and turns his face to the side. “Are you okay?”

“What,” Moondae replies bewildered, letting himself be manhandled. “I’m fine.”

Ahyeon extracts him from Keunse’s grasp but tuts under his breath, cupping his cheeks and thumbing gently under his eyes.

“You look upset, Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon murmurs, looking into his eyes searchingly. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” Moondae insists, trying to remove Ahyeon’s hands from his person in a way that won’t insult him. “Nothing happened.”

Everyone in the room exchanges skeptical glances, even Raebin, and Moondae wonders just how he looked walking back into the room for everyone to suddenly gain the ability to communicate with wiggling eyebrows and pursed mouths. Maybe he was getting sick again – they were working like crazy, working on a schedule that would have even the most seasoned crunch time teams going through multiple breakdowns.

And like they could read the impending deadline of their performance, the entire room makes the collective (and correct) decision to believe him. Which they should considering, you know, he was telling the truth. He was fine. Embarrassed and a little hurt, which only made him feel more embarrassed that he cared so much, but you know, just fine.

Still, he feels their eyes staying close for the rest of the day. Everyone is exceedingly sweet to him in a way that should feel suspicious but they’re trying so earnestly to not be overbearing that Moondae, already off kilter from being berated by Lee Sejin, accepts the attention with a quiet gratefulness.

(What Moondae fails to realize that this only sends multiple people spiraling further into fear. Moondae, their usually prickly, independent and sassy little guy, suddenly and calmly allowing their usual brand of too touchy and clingy affection without even an attempt at pretending he didn’t like it? Insanely suspicious, extremely worrying; Iljoon already had to talk Ahyeon and Keunse both out of maxing out their credit cards buying essential comfort items. Why a child would need a 3,000,000 won cashmere sweater for comfort, Iljoon would never know. Rich people, he’d never understand them.)

He rides this preferential treatment into getting the first shower even though it’s clear everyone wants to wash up as quickly as possible and pass out on the nearest flat surface. Moondae, hair wet and a towel around his shoulders, had tried waking up lljoon for the next shower but he, Ahyeon and Keunse were all deep in an REM cycle that closely resembled a coma.

“Moondae-yah,” Raebin whispers around a yawn, he looks worn out and his eyes are red after staring at a screen for half the day. “Do you mind if I go next while we wait for one of the rest to wake up?”

“Of course, hyung,” Moondae assures, already putting a clean towel in his hand and leading him to the bathroom when it looks like he’s about to topple over. “They won’t mind and if anyone wakes up, I’ll let them know.”

Raebin’s slow answering smile is broken up by a large, jaw-cracking yawn and Moondae bites back a laugh. He waits until he hears the water running to make sure Raebin made it in there conscious before going through his usual nighttime routine. Usually, he’d be the first one face down in bed, already dreaming of bottles of soju and crisp, cold cans of beer, but for the first time since he’s woken up with it, his system finally gave him a win.

An embarrassingly named win, but a win nonetheless.

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 12
Title: None

Singing: A
Dancing: C
Looks: A-
Charm: B

Traits: Infinite Potential

Available Stat Points: 2

Skills :

> Who Could Say No To That Face? [C]
> Apple Of My Eye [D]
v Little Energizer Bunny [ B ]
Passive Skill
Thanks to the power of youth, fatigue build up is reduced by 50%!

He just wants to have a little chat with whoever runs this system. Just a quick one. But he also won’t throw away the one good gift he’s gotten from it, not when he’s the only one left standing after a grueling day of hard work. It’s so effective that he’s not even annoyed by chorus of snores below him.

Usually, it would keep him up and lead to another sleepless, insomnia-ridden night but he’s not tired whatsoever. He could probably spend another another hour or two practicing the choreography to finally bump his dance stat into the B-tiers. He does have two leftover stat points to use but he wants to save those for emergencies.

It doesn’t take long for Moondae to talk himself into taking advantage of Little Energizer Bunny and practicing into the night, especially when there’s no chance that his usual overbearing minders would wake up any time soon. When he opens the dorm door to make his escape, however, he comes face to face with the last thing he thought he’d see in his lifetime.

Cha Eugene, hand up as if he was about to knock at the door, looks down at him with teary eyes and a wobbling lower lip for two seconds before bursting into loud sobs.

Oh God, Moondae thinks to himself as Eugene gathers him into a tight hug and starts wailing into his hair, not again.

Chapter Text

Moondae would like to think that he’s gotten better at dealing people. If he was being graded, he would absolutely be teetering on the edge of failing but a pass was a pass. He’s trying his best, even if it wasn’t good enough at times, and that should count for something. Still, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to excel in the subject of interpersonal relationships, he thinks he should probably invest time and effort in researching what to do when someone cries on you.

It’s happened far too many times for him to keep just internally flailing and hoping for the best – one day, his inability to empathize and comfort people would bite him in the ass. And that day might be already here as he gently pats Cha Eugene’s back, trying not to flinch away whenever he gives a loud, extra snotty sniff right in the crook of his neck. They’ve been standing in the open doorway for a few minutes now and no amount of awkward soothing (that usually worked on Heeseung like magic) seems to help at stopping up Eugene’s tears.

“Eugene-hyung?” he asks, wiggling so it feels less like he’s being suffocated by a wailing octopus.

Eugene doesn’t seem to hear him however and Moondae is in abject despair as he catches the glint of the hallway cameras in his peripherals. He knows a scene like this is too good to land in the cutting room floor and is already resigned to the online cesspool that his feed will become when this scene airs. His poor reputation is definitely going to take another hit in the form of toxic Eugene fans trying to spin yet another moment between them in a bad light. He’s not excited to see more call out threads.

What he’s being called out for? Well, Moondae isn’t too sure himself.

If he didn’t find Cha Eugene himself so funny and charming (and stubbornly and exceedingly clingy), he would have tried harder to avoid him just to preemptively escape the drama. Still, his giant crybaby, his problem, so he bears this awful outpouring of sadness with a brave face. Moondae can feel a pinching pain in his neck from tilting his head so far back to comfortably fit Eugene’s big, sad head on his shoulder and his calves are aching from being on his tiptoes so Eugene didn’t have to stoop so low just to hold him.

“Hyung? Eugene-hyung?” Moondae tries again, voice muffled by the other’s bulk. “I’m very sorry but my legs are going to stop working in a moment.”

The sniffling and miserable tears seem to stop midway down his cheeks as Eugene pulls his face away from Moondae’s sopping wet neck to look at him with a questioning tilt to his head. Moondae, uncomfortable but clearly trying to not show it, even as his arms are pinned tight to his sides by Eugene’s strong grip around his shoulders; his hair disheveled and still damp from his shower and his slippered feet practically hanging in the air as Eugene uses him like giant teddy bear.

“Ah!” Eugene sets him down gently and Moondae feels like he’s can finally utilize all of his lung capacity again. “I’m so sorry Moondae-yah! [Oh my god, your little legs, I’m sorry!]”

Moondae deigns to forgive Eugene for his slight even as his hand curls into an unconscious fist. It wasn’t his fault that Park Moondae was a reasonably average height for a growing boy while the rest of the freaks around him seemed to keep growing by the day. He couldn’t wait for his own growth spurt so he could start making short jokes in addition to the old jokes, see how they felt.

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” Moondae soothes as he swallows the automatic petulance like a bitter pill; he absolutely wasn’t still lowkey traumatized by the not-even-a-lecture lecture he got from from Ryu Chungwoo, who said that? “Come in, let me get you some water.”

Moondae feels slight relief when he can finally get his dorm door shut and can close off all camera access to this scene. They did have cameras in every space except the bathrooms the first week of filming but some of the contestants’ parents kicked up a very reasonable fuss about their safety (some of them being underage) being exploited with so many cameras in what was supposed to be a private space. The production team gave a very halfhearted, tepid apology as a response and removed them from the dorms by the time they came back to film the first team match. To make up for it, they just doubled the cameras everywhere else.

He hands Eugene a glass of water and a box of tissues and Eugene looks so miserable and downtrodden that Moondae starts to feel guilty that he ever felt exasperated in the first place. This was Cha Eugene after all, he had rarely seen the boy in anything less than a good mood so to see him in tears should have said it all.

“Um,” Moondae pulls out the bag of chocolates that Ahyeon had gifted him on a whim. “Would you like some, hyung?”

He was thankful that both Iljoon and Keunse were asleep – he was defending these to the death not even an hour ago, if they saw him willingly sharing, freely offering, there would be blood. Eugene, after blowing his nose with a loud honk that Moondae has to stop himself from smiling at, starts slowly eating with a despondent sniffle. Moondae feels a little useless as he waits for Eugene to gather himself so he times himself to finish unwrapping the little chocolate bars acting as a paltry offering in the face of his friend’s turmoil the second Eugene finishes – they’ve become a little conveyor belt of chocolate and sadness and Moondae has no idea where to go from here.

Truthfully, he already knows what this is about. Eugene has been blessed with a rather comfortable Idol Inc. experience so far. Besides being the most popular member by far, universally beloved by nearly everyone for not just his looks and personality but also for his sheer talent and magnetic stage presence, he also had been put into groups that had gotten along relatively well. There was a small hiccup with Raebin getting a bad edit, but Eugene approached that with more anger in defense of his friend than anything else.

While Moondae didn’t know the particulars in this situation, having been barred from that knowledge in tandem by Chungwoo’s scary disappointed dad aura and by Lee Sejin’s wrath, he could tell that this wasn’t something that could be solved with enthusiasm and positivity alone. It probably didn’t help that Eugene didn’t have his friend by his side this time. Moondae suddenly feels unreasonably guilty that he’s been enjoying spending time with Raebin knowing that Eugene has been miserable without him.

“Do you want me to get Raebin-hyung?” Moondae asks, fidgeting with the unwrapped chocolate in his hands, carefully watching to see when Eugene would finish the one currently in his mouth. “You came here to see him, right?”

Eugene, cheeks full of candy and eyes drier than they were coming in, shakes his head.

“No,” he replies, still sniffling. “I came here to see Moondae too.”

“Me?” Moondae would think he’d be the last person Eugene wants to see. “Did you- did you want to talk about what happened?”

He shouldn’t be asking this, he’s practically inviting Lee Sejin to deride him again for butting into a problem that isn’t his; he regrets saying it almost immediately after it came out but it’s already too late. He shuts his mouth tight and hopes Eugene says no. He holds up the box of tissues like some kind of barrier between them.

“No, it’s okay,” Eugene’s voice is small as he wipes at his face with the proffered tissues. “I just wanted a hug.”

If Moondae started to discreetly give both covert chocolate and covert hugs to Cha Eugene for the next week, that was his business and his business alone.

Live Chat
304.7k viewers

– tnet stay pissing me off 🥰

– the episode hasn’t even started for real and i’m already mad as hell we already know they’re money hungry losers but introducing stock selling? tnet dmpo lmaoooo

∟ send me five hundred won and i’ll burn down their studio after this week’s filming is over

     ∟ done. bank details now.

          ∟ LMAOOOO NOT THE HIRED ARSON IN THE CHAT 😭

– wdc show us the boys!!! just shut up!!!!

∟ idk i care a little like this will clearly affect the contestants

– so that’s how it’ll work from now on? why wasn’t i born rich……

– BRO WHAT ARE THEY ONNNNN 😭😭😭

– they’re really using the pr team now, almost TWO WEEKS since the incident. it’s official, tnet producers have noodles for brains.

∟ they need to hire a new pr team lmao the best they could do is a lukewarm statement about how it’s all just acting and edited for maximum drama for the show lol ok sure

– THIS FAKE ASS STATEMENT “the contestant are all great fwends 🥹 this was just dwama for the sake of dwama ❤️ all our contestants get along and LOVE each other 😄” SHUT UPPPP

– notice how this statement is missing the words “sorry” or “apologies” or “it’s our fault” or “we’re kicking choi wongil out for being an asshole”

∟ the wongil hate is soooooo forced

     ∟ bro he’s the perpetrator of the entire scandal wtf are you talking about

          ∟ what are YOU talking about??? perpetrator my ENTIRE ASS who do you think you are?? my lawyer???

– oh sure, great friends that’s why wongil and heeseung were three seconds away from a fist fight

∟ boys will be boys -tnet

     ∟ we’re lying through our teeth -tnet

          ∟ fuck you, you’ll still watch this show anyway -tnet

               ∟ ow, don’t call me out like that?

– idol inc idk if you’re trying to reach a new low but beating the coed group-pregnancy-cheating holy trinity of scandals with a bullying scandal isn’t gonna work

∟ so you’re saying they need to try harder to do worse? oh, that’s almost a compliment

     ∟ the bar is in hell for tnet lmaooooo

– everyone shut the fuck up the rankings are going up!!!!!

∟ ???? this is a live chat if you want everyone to shut up just close your eyes

– i’m going to murder every single one of you :) my moondae. my little cinnamon apple, park moondae. IN NINTH PLACE. AND HE WAS THE FUCKING VICTIM. ALL OF YOU ARE GOING TO HELL.

     ∟ alleged victim, the show literally just said nothing really happened two seconds ago

          ∟ and if i allegedly hunt you down and kill you dead?

– the fact that he was in THIRD before the stock selling i'm actually sick. all of you fuckers trying to end this kid’s dream bc of something that wasn’t even his fault. park moondae, hyung is going to work overtime and buy your stocks!

     ∟ ayo someone call the cops??? we have a grown ass man watching this show??? AND TALKING ABOUT A MINOR???

          ∟ are you stupid. i'm asking legitimately.

– does seon ahyeon ever stop fucking CRYING

     ∟ i hope he never stops, prettiest crying face i've ever seen iktr

          ∟ ahyeon fans are insane bro

     ∟ LITERALLLLLY like got third and still weeping like we get it just stfu please

– ahyeon: breathes

eugene fans: DOES HE EVER STOP BREATHING IT’S SO ANNOOYYYYINGGGG

– genies attacking ahyeon bc they know he’s better looking 😭 we get it, you’re jealous that your fave is ugly and untalented 😭😭

     ∟ woah, hey now, not even a eugene stan but let’s not tell lies???

– ahyeon having more beauty and skill in a single strand of his hair than eugene in his whole body wow

– imagine not stanning ahyeon like mental problems fr

– everyone forgive all the awful ahyeon stans in chat :/ they don’t have a lot to brag about so they resort to name calling real fast

– so glad heeseung got immunity and wasn’t affected by the stock selling!! proud of you bby 🥳

∟ you ended this with a smile but i could feel the clenched fist energy of this so bad

∟ my heart dropped into my ass when they showed the sold stocks list if he wasn’t safe he would’ve been gone, god is on our side he also stans heeseung

– anyone else not over the fact that eugene fans literally punted moondae into the stratosphere, dropping him six places all because he got a little more attention in the last episode instead of their fave? just me? ok. 🙂

∟ gonna kms working for the next few months just to get him back up, so undeserved my poor puppy, my little fox, my baby bunny :(

– omg crying the gang is back together!!! look at how happy ahyeon is to be back on a team with his baby child

– everyone stop fighting and look at raebin and moondae being cute together i'm going to throw up they’re so adorable

     ∟ right?? like when did they become friends!! this is so cute!!

          ∟ ma’am where have you BEEN, if you look in the background of the last team match episode moondae, raebin and eugene were constantly stuck together it was so cute

     ∟ 🙄 moondog constantly trying to bite on bin and gene’s popularity and y’all like this man? 😭

          ∟ you see three kids hanging out and make up a story….mind you moondae was literally in 3^rd place before stock selling but what? he probably has billionaire fans right?

               ∟ DIDN’T I JUST SAY NOT TO FIGHT!!!! y’all ruin this show for me istg

– LMAO THE LOOK ON EVERYONE’S FACE WHEN LEE SEJIN BROUGHT UP THE SEXY CONCEPT

∟ keunse looking at moondae and stopping mid-sentence to backtrack had me WEAKKKKK he really went, oops there’s a baby in the room

∟ anyone else see the blush on raebin’s face, my shy lil bun doing a sexy concept omg that’s illegal

– keunse doing a sexy concept? it’s not even my birthday 🫦🫦

– I love this team sm I’m so glad we’re getting an episode focusing on them! They work so well together and always look like they’re having fun

∟ this comment is so wholesome and sweet, you deserve better than to be in this cesspool with the rest of us creatures

– my heart is throwing UP have you ever seen raebin get so close to someone who wasn’t eugene?? moondae-yah, thank you for being a good friend to our boy

∟ right! like we’re just missing eugene and this is truly our future maknae line 💛

     ∟ shut the fuck up that’s so cute our maknae line TToTT

– did you see the way raebin was practically hugging moondae while they were working on rearranging the song together o-<-< I can die peacefully now

∟ woah hey now moondae barely dodged a scandal, let’s not add him in another one

     ∟ a current (and ongoing) list of moondae’s scandals: was too cute dancing to popcon, mukbanged too close to the sun, was the victim of bullying, and now, a prospective dating scandal with kim raebin

          ∟ LMAOOO SHUTTTTT

– are you kidding me

– more drama?? is this really how you wanna end this episode tnet? what the hell sure

– poor lee sejin a :( he looked so stressed and they really chased after him with an entire crew to catch his breakdown so fucked up

– idol inc producers please considering kys 🖤🖤 this was so wrong, my baby sejinnie doesn’t deserve to be put on blast like this

– chungwoo is such a good leader… constantly in awe of how well suited he is for leadership tbh

∟ honestly i'm a grown ass adult and i'd trust ryu chungwoo with my entire life

– ryu chungwoo being the only one from that team to go after sejin like wow only two decent people on that team!!!! choi wongil and cha eugene and that fucking instigator can choke!!!

Lee Sejin doesn’t know what it was about Park Moondae that had him so charmed. He was a cute kid, sure, but he was also a bit intense and intimidating, expertly wielding sarcasm so dry it could turn into dust. He had a quick mouth that could cut you down in ten words or less, had the keen ability to pretend like he didn’t care while caring very much, and was so smart and observant it was terrifying.

That cuddly exterior hid a steel core and while usually Sejin would be more suspicious of people like that, he could confidently say he trusted Moondae. And Sejin was an expert on reading people - as a trainee, he’s seen the worst of the worst, dealing directly with those who would hide their true selves to get their way. Those who use their looks or others’ perceptions of them to manipulate and claw their way up just to be on top, no matter who they hurt.

Moondae isn’t anything like them; he’s absolutely a little shit but he was also so painfully earnest and genuine that it made his heart hurt. It was pretty much at first sight that Sejin decided that he liked this kid and wanted to get to know him; Moondae, by far, had the most interesting audition after all. Who else could blow the entire studio away with a godsent voice one moment and then have everyone in stitches from the most adorable little attempt at a dance the next? Sejin just knew that this kid was meant to be on stage, something about him screamed that he was meant to be a performer.

But getting to know Moondae (or as much as Moondae allowed) has been like an exercise in extreme patience. The kid isn’t difficult or bratty or even mildly demanding, the opposite really. He was too willing to compromise, fine with being treated with the bare minimum consideration, working himself to exhaustion without a complaint. He was too skinny, too frail, too pale. He and Ahyeon had done their best to make sure he was well taken care of but they couldn’t be there all the time.

Every little bit of his life that he would reveal would be rewarding and terrifying in equal terms; for every little tidbit of his likes, dislikes, personality, and home life, there would be something concerning attached to it. Sejin recently found out that Moondae was a talented cook – while he wasn’t allowed to work as a chef for Nari’s House since he didn’t have a food handling license, they put him in the family meal rotation every other week.

Nari had raved about the kalguksu Moondae made in such vivid detail that Sejin knew it wasn’t just someone trying to be nice to a kid who went out of their way to feed their staff. When Sejin had asked why he picked up cooking, Moondae just said that if he didn’t, he couldn’t eat. It was deadpan, familiar in its sarcasm but Sejin didn’t know what that really meant. Did his parents not cook for him? What if he was too tired from work and the show both? Would he just starve if he couldn’t find time or effort to cook for himself? Was this skill honed from survival instead of out of interest? Is that why he just looked absolutely frail whenever he’d come back in between filming weeks?

He was also too mature and immature all at once; he sounded like an old man at times, spouting wisdom beyond his years with a clarity that spoke of personal experience and understanding. Give him a problem and he has at least three solutions and only one would be legal. But put that same resourceful, scrappy kid in the middle of his friends who openly adored him and ask him to share one thing he likes about himself and it’s suddenly like the world is turning upside down. Sejin has never met someone who was so self-assured that also thought so lowly of themselves.

He doesn’t know what kind of childhood Moondae had (that he was still technically going through, if Sejin were to really think about it), but he wants to find his parents and sit them down for a nice little talk. How could anyone let this child think he’s anything but precious and loved? He’s only known Moondae for a few months and he’s pretty sure he would kill for the kid. Let Iljoon make his little jokes about him being Moondae’s dad, Sejin knew that he felt similarly. There was just something about Moondae that made people want to know him, to want to spend time with him, to protect him and keep him safe from the world.

And it’s with all that in mind, with his group and their reputations on the line for being commonly associated with him, and with the knowledge that he has no way out of this that Sejin knows he has to leave.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

It’s surprising that Iljoon breaks the silence first.

“Hyung,” Sejin cajoles, trying for his usual joking, lighthearted demeanor and failing miserably. “I have to-, I need to step away. It’s my word against theirs and you’ve seen how it works for other idols before. It doesn’t matter if it’s a lie or how much good will I’ve built up.”

Sejin sighs and pretends like it doesn’t come out shaking and terrified.

“I can make statements all I want, people will believe what they want to believe,” Sejin continues, smiling like his heart wasn’t breaking open in his chest. “And they won’t want to believe me, especially when I have no proof against them.”

Live Chat
359.1k viewers

– holy shit did any of y’all see that post on pann???

∟ if it’s on pann i do not perceive it

     ∟ u say that but literally every post from there ends up being somewhat right so like

          ∟ ok and so is my mom whenever she says i'll never amount to anything doesn’t mean i should believe her

               ∟ ……………...you want to talk about it buddy?

– idol inc really really REALLY trying to get a bigger scandal than last season like WDYM LEE SEJIN IS A KNOWN BULLY???

∟ WHAT?????

∟ Me when I lie

     ∟ broooo there’s so much proof in the pann post, it’s like OVER.

∟ wait which one????

     ∟ Keunse!!

“Wait wait, Lee Sejin, please wait,” Ahyeon sounds like he’s on the verge of panic and his eyes are already tearful and wide. “Let’s just slow down and talk about this, please?”

“No,” Sejin needs to be the one to do this, he has to be strong enough to step away because if he looks at anyone too long he’s going to start breaking down. “If I wait anymore, it’ll only reflect badly on you all.”

“But, but, no one will believe it, hyung-nim!” Raebin insists, trying to tug the empty duffel bag out of his hands. “You’re a good person and a good leader and I believe that people will see the truth!”

Sejin sighs and gently pries Raebin’s shaking hold on his bag. He pats the kid on the head, he hasn’t spent too much time with him but he’s so earnest and sweet despite his first impression. He likes that he’s respectful and kind and works hard, likes that he treats Moondae like something precious and rare, likes that he’s been nothing but supportive, immediately disbelieving everything that the post alleged the minute the news broke out.

“It’s okay, Raebin,” he says, smiling like his heart wasn’t racing and breaking right down the middle. “You focus on getting the group ready, kid. I’m sorry that doing this will add more work on you and Moondae-yah, but I’m trusting you okay?”

Raebin’s grip goes limp and his eyes go wide and sad, his pupils trembling as his gaze darts across Sejin’s face like he’s trying to discern the truth of his words.

“This is bullshit,” Iljoon has been a muttering ball of rage for the past hour, scrolling frenetic through the comments section of the live chat. “This is a fucking joke.”

“Sejin,” Ahyeon tries again, grasping at his sleeve with both hands. “Please. Please don’t do this.”

Live Chat
388.9k viewers

– Lmao you’re telling me none of you could tell? I knew day 1 but I never said anything because everyone and their moms love him but you could tell his vibes are fucking rancid 😬

∟ yikes imagine being wrong AND having bad taste

     ∟ yikes imagine continuing to stan a bully after his victim bravely came out to speak against someone super powerful

          ∟ super powerful 😭😭😭😭😭😭 he’s literally an idol trainee what power???

– call me a delusional fangirl but i literally don’t believe it lmao

∟ okay you’re delusional 🤡

– I WAS SO RIGHTTTTT i knew he looked familiar!! my cousin’s friend’s ex-boyfriend was beat up by him back in middle school he’s an asshole through and through

∟ my cousin’s friend’s ex-boyfriend is a long way to say a complete stranger i’m lying about

     ∟ it’s always believe victims until the victim is my aunt’s best friend’s neighbor’s favorite restaurant dishwasher’s ex-dog and i think that’s just so messed up

          ∟ my head hurt trying to parse this

– never liked him anyway, he better step away so he doesn’t fuck up anyone else’s chances like he lost his the minute he went around terrorizing people in his school and smoking

– yikes……..i can’t believe i stanned, immediately going to try and get a refund for my stocks tbh

– this is disappointing and i'm so devastated to know that all that time i spent on him is wasted because he decided to be an awful person, i'm so so hurt rn. sending all my love and support to the victims.

T here’s only one person who hasn’t tried to stop him. It shouldn’t hurt this much but he should have known better than to expect more from Moondae. He adores the kid and thinks the world of him but everyone can tell that he’s been just tolerating him and his bullshit this entire time. He’s kinder than he looks and kinder than most people deserve.

Maybe it’s better this way, maybe he can just be a bad memory from his time in Idol Inc. before making it big. And Sejin knows that he will be bigger than all of this; Park Moondae is a once in a lifetime kind of kid, someone destined to reach the stars and go beyond.

Sejin is just happy to have been a part of it, no matter how small he’ll end up being.

Half the room is in tears but Sejin needs to do this, he needs to go to the producers and tell them he wants to step down before it gets any worse. He’s been smiling because he knows if he ends up crying here it’ll just set off Ahyeon and Raebin. He should go. He needs to go.

His legs are rooted to the ground though and despite his mind screaming that this is the right thing to do, that this is the smart thing to do, he doesn’t move. He can’t move.

‘Please,’ his heart begs. ‘Someone, someone please, stop me. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to stop, I want to be here, I don’t want to go.’

“Hyung.”

Sejin doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that it’s Moondae who tries one more time. He wants to ignore him, wants to look away and keep walking forward. He can’t bear the idea of looking back and seeing nothing but disappointment and disgust.

“Sejin-hyung, please?”

His soft spot for Moondae will be his undoing, he knows that now. Sejin turns around, bracing for the worst and bracing for words he knows will break him. But it’s the least he can do when Moondae asked for him, voice gentle and imploring .

“Yeah, kiddo?” Sejin pretends like he’s not looking over Moondae’s head to try and avoid his wide-eyed gaze and like his voice wasn’t on the verge of breaking.

“Hyung, did you go to Cheongsol High?”

“What?”

Chapter Text

School violence – it’s a good choice for a scandal, as cynical as it was to admit.

If there was one thing that could easily take down an idol without solid proof, school violence was pretty much the blueprint. There had been more than a few examples of celebrities losing everything to similar rumors: fans, opportunities, and entire livelihoods. Sometimes it was deserved; Moondae doesn’t particularly mind watching the downfall of bullies, moreso in this second life. But even if the truth would eventually come out and the accused was proven innocent, this would leave an indelible mark on their reputation.

From then on, there would always a moment of hesitation – fans already had the capacity to believe that the rumors of their beloved idols were true, how low was their tolerance now? What event would tip public favor back to public vitriol? It was a slippery slope and a dangerous problem to leave unsolved, especially since the longer one waited, the worse off they looked. Unlike in life where taking the time to gather yourself and the facts was the smart and preferred move, in the online world, silence was just construed as a confession.

Moondae doesn’t even try to convince Keunse to let him help this time; he’s getting a little tired of being treated like a child, no matter that this body was one. He has the ability to help, he’s capable of resolving this with minimal bloodshed and tears, and he’s not afraid of being yelled at again. It’ll suck for a bit because despite how much he’s been denying everything, he’s starting to see everyone in his life as something more than just teammates and strangers.

But Moondae and Gunwoo both have been alone longer than they’ve been surrounded kindness like this so when there is a catastrophic fall out, it’ll just be a return to form. Moondae will be fine because Gunwoo was always fine.

The expose was posted on a popular topic board to discuss Idol Inc. episodes so it wasn’t a surprise that it got attention and traction fairly easily. There was an obvious divide in the comments but the sheer amount of people engaging with it only drove the visibility of the post higher on the board. It didn’t matter that the upvotes and downvotes were essentially the same, it didn’t matter that there were more than a few skeptical people making their own posts demonstrating how the photo was obviously edited (poorly at that, Moondae noted to himself with distaste – they didn’t even bother matching the color grading), the bombastic title [Idol Inc.’s Lee Sejin B bullied me throughout high school [PROOF]] was enough to pique the worst kind of interest.

Most people wouldn’t even bother to dig any deeper than that title and the photo before going onto other social media to try and be the first person to post about it. Moondae doesn’t understand the appeal – maybe there was something about having a the harsh lights of fame for a scant minute with a hit tweet that reads ‘I can’t believe you guys still support X when they X’. He could predict the fall out down to the minute. As someone who was (ashamedly) as chronically online as these people, he’s seen it happen over and over again.

But it’s with the unfortunate experience of someone who once clocked a horrifying 18 hour screen time average at one point in his life that he’s able to dig deep into the rabbit hole to find the source and get a plan going to save Lee Sejin’s ass. While the topic board was popular, it was still mostly catering to Idol Inc fans and thus was fighting to get into the more influential general pop culture topic board where it could do some real damage. Moondae himself only received word of the post from Wongil who sent it in their group chat with some choice words about the blatant lies.

Moondae can easily tell if someone was also the type to also obsessively stalk all Idol Inc. related boards (to his mental detriment) but Wongil is rather well-adjusted and doesn’t have much of an online presence other than an Instagram to connect with his fan. That meant he received this news from someone else – Moondae confirmed it with a separate text and Wongil let him know that he received it in a group chat with other participants and followed the spiderweb path back.

While he can admit that he’s been mostly attached to his usual group, Moondae did make a few strategic acquaintances for this very reason. It’s lucky that everyone was allowed to use their phones today for researching, he puts some feelers out and two people respond that they also received the same post from some iteration of their own Idol Inc. group chat. It’s clear that all these texts are coming from a singular starting point and Moondae, comparing the various group chat lists, can find three people that it could be.

Two of them were participants still on the show, one lower in rank and on the cusp of being eliminated if they didn’t do well in the next round and the other just on the verge of breaking into the Top 10. The other was an already eliminated trainee who was kicked from the show after the livestreaming event after some of their old social media posts showed him in a terrible light.

He can immediately disregard the higher rank contestant, he was a social butterfly who tried to befriend everyone. It wasn’t a surprise to see his name pop up time and time again; he was also one of Moondae’s strategic contacts who ended up responding to his initial feeler after a while, The lower ranked contestant was also quickly removed from the list, he was a trainee from a large entertainment company who was really using this show as a way to network and make connections. Moondae could distinctly remember him debuting in a group in the following year that would be moderately successful until the first member enlisted – it was then that the group lost their momentum and after being on hiatus for so long, they were stuck in that a limbo most groups ended up in where they insisted they were still a group but ended up never really coming back.

That left Cho Doyeol.

He was one of the few to get a good lottery item during the livestreaming event and ended up in the top 20. He was already fairly popular, good looking, talented and distinct, especially since he had a lower register voice that really stood out compared to the overall higher tone that most of the contestants had. And then photos from his private Instagram were leaked.

There were only a handful, but in most, he would be constantly showing off and bragging about the exorbitant, expensive gifts fans would give him. Usually, a quick notes app apology for his immature and arrogant behavior would clear that away but the nail in the coffin was the fact that he gave some of the gifts to his girlfriend. Fans were upset and Cho Doyeol was quickly and quietly written out of the show without much fanfare. Standard.

The most important fact about Cho Doyeol, however, was that he was a trainee from the same agency as Keunse.

The leaked photos had the account’s username censored but it was done in a hurry and Moondae could parse some of the characters. From then, it was just a matter of cross-referencing with any public data about Cho Doyeol to see if he could try and recreate something approximating his username. It ended up being a combination of his name with a trail of numbers that included his birthday and his girlfriend’s birthday (typical). He input this username across several different social media and ended up with a Twitter account that had been unused for a few years.

Undeterred, he ended up scrolling through replies to find one of his friends that was still an active user and found Cho Doyeol’s active Twitter account through them. Despite being an egg account, it was easy to tell it was him once Moondae compared the style of writing and overall tone to captions in the leaked screenshots.

“Anyway,” Moondae continues, unaware of everyone’s mouths hanging open wider and wider the longer he speaks. “He uses this Twitter account like a diary and has been vague-posting about getting into contact with someone from a ‘CSHS’, so that’s why I asked about your high school.”

It’s dead silent in the room but Moondae’s head is still buzzing with information.

“My theory is that he was upset at being kicked off the show, especially when you and the other members he auditioned with didn’t really try and vouch for him,” he pauses for a moment. “Not a dig at you, Keunse-hyung, he’s clearly not a very good person.”

“It would also explain the way the other two members of your initial group were summarily let off from the show,” Moondae muses. “But it’s been such a long time between the two getting let go to now that I couldn’t connect the dots immediately.”

The other two contestants faced similar situations, both had photos from their socials leaked but they were centered around the two going clubbing and drinking. Moondae didn’t really understand the big deal, they were both over 20 and it wasn’t like the photos were salacious, but he underestimated just how perfect idols and even idol trainees had to be. They couldn’t be like everyone else doing things normal adults were allowed to do and regularly did. Worse, they weren’t as popular or as talented so they had even less support behind them to want to keep them on the show.

“The photo they used is interesting though,” Moondae says half to himself, half to the room. “Because it’s clearly from the same series of photos that you’re showcased in on your high school’s website under ‘Notable Alumni’. I’m guessing his contact in your old school ended up not panning out because they reused a photo in that series. The entire section is an unlinked page now but you can still find it on the sitemap and the original photo is right there.”

Moondae looks up from his phone, biting down on his thumbnail in thought, wondering why no one else was talking when the room was alight with dramatics a handful of minutes ago. He meets Keunse’s slack jawed face first and tilts his head in askance. He finds Ahyeon and Iljoon next and they both share the same look as Keunse. It’s getting increasingly uncomfortable the longer the silence drags and he finally looks to Raebin for help.

Raebin is looking at him with stars in his eyes.

“Moondae-yah,” he breathes, sounding impressed and agog. “That’s- that’s incredible! How did you- when did you? Just, how?”

“What?” Moondae asks, lying to himself that he’s not flustered. “It didn’t take that long to figure out once it was obvious the photo was edited. Anyone could have done the same.”

“Absolutely not,” Raebin insists, shaking his head enthusiastically. “That deductive reasoning and informational parsing was- it was- and in the amount of time you did it too! Wow, Moondae-yah. You’re extremely smart and resourceful.”

Moondae can feel his face starting to get hot – he expected a lot of things, he was expecting to get yelled at, he was expecting to get called out for being nosy and weird, he was expecting a lot more negativity. But Raebin’s effusive praise was not on the list and he’s not really mentally prepared to handle it. Raebin is still looking at him like he did something praiseworthy and he’s about to turn around to escape his big eyes when he’s suddenly airborne.

“A genius! The cutest spymaster! An adorable mastermind! The scariest motherfucker in the room!”

It’s a wonder that Moondae is getting used to being swung around like this as Keunse easily plucked him off of the top bunk and into his arms.

“I’ve never been more scared of someone while wanting to offer them everything I own!” Keunse cries out, stopping midswing to hold him tight in a suffocating bear hug. “Oh my god, I could kiss your little head!”

“Please don’t.” Moondae begs, muffled in Keunse’s chest, legs literally off of the floor from the height difference between the two.

“Too late.”

And then the top of his head, forehead and cheeks are getting attacked with kisses that he can’t escape and Keunse is laughing so hard it sounds like he’s crying. Moondae can feel Keunse tremble as he continues to laugh and laugh and he sighs once before reaching up and hugging back, patting at his friend’s back firmly – he’ll forgive Lee Sejin just this once.

“Moondae-yah, if I ever go missing I want you to handle my case, okay?” Iljoon says dazedly.

The drama thankfully died down as fast as it blew up and after crafting the perfect rebuttal post and posting just in time to cut off the majority of momentum, Moondae is back in bed.

(Said post read:

are you all terminally stupid. that photo of lee sejin b is literally on his high school’s website. [link]

– it’s literally not????? where are u even seeing this???

∟ did i not provide a link.

– girl how did you even find this page like it’s not linked ANYWHERE…..

∟ don’t underestimate the amount of time i have to waste and my level of spite

– can’t wait for the amount of backtracking in 3, 2, 1…

– oh thank GOD, i really believed it but i'm so happy that it’s not the case holy shit

– the fact y’all thought it was real in the first place when it’s clearly photoshopped……...lmao………..

∟ so badly too like the temps we’re completely different my head HURT

– and WHERE are all the apology posts??? fake ass bitches I SWEAR

– always believed in you king!)

He did have to fight off Keunse insisting that he tuck him in and pat his stomach until he fell asleep. He understands that he basically saved his ass but a genuine ‘thank you’ would have sufficed. He doesn’t need the coddling, especially when Keunse’s version of it seems to be treating him like an actual infant but he just had to go and be extra. Even now, when they were finally putting the entire situation to rest and everyone was dead asleep, Moondae can still feel his eyes on him.

“Keunse-hyungnim should get some sleep,” he whispers quietly, without opening his eyes. “We have another long day tomorrow.”

A low chuckle.

“Sorry, sorry,” and even though it’s soft Keunse sounds exhausted and elated. “I’m just, man, I’m just happy.”

Moondae opens his eyes and looks down where Keunse is laying in the lower bunk and buries his head in his blankets before replying.

“Me too,” he confesses, muffled. “I didn’t want you to leave.”

The room descends into quiet breathing again.

“Thank you, Moondae-yah,” Keunse replies after a pause, and his voice is thick and choked up. “Thank you so much. You don’t understand how I-, I just felt so lost and then you-.”

Keunse starts several times before stopping and taking a deep breath. Moondae peeks out from his blankets and feels his heart ache at how overwhelmed and overcome his usually jovial friend looks.

“You know,” he sighs, looking up at Moondae. “When I first saw that post, it was like my heart dropped into my stomach. Because I-, I did smoke, for a while. And I thought, for a second, for a moment, that that photo was real and someone might have gotten a hold of it. And it’s not like I’m ashamed of the fact that I did because I can’t change who I was, and I quit by the way, but you know.”

Keunse looks like he doesn’t know where he’s going with this and Moondae pipes up.

“Why did you?” he asks, completely neutral.

“I almost debuted,” Keunse says after a moment of deliberation. “Not at my current company, but the one before. But then at the very last minute, I was cut from the group in favor of the director’s nephew. They promised me that the next group I’d be in the permanent line up and the leader. But then the time came and went and someone else got the spot. And then again.”

“Once, fine,” Keunse laughs hollowly. “Twice – that hurts, but alright. Three times? I felt like an idiot, I felt like I wasn’t good enough. Company evaluations would come and they’d have everything to say about me, none of it good. I would get stressed and because I was stressed I started gaining weight and then it would stress me out even more because our trainers kept saying I needed to lose it.”

“It became a vicious cycle,” Keunse whispers and Moondae’s heart is pounding loud in his ears. “And then a stylist-noona told me that I could manage the stress and the weight both by smoking and you know the worst part? It worked. Then, it was like I couldn’t live without it. Like if I stopped, everything would start again. It was bad, Moondae-yah, and it didn’t help that it was the same story at my current agency. I just wanted to debut so badly.”

And Moondae was keenly aware. As Gunwoo, he had been knee-deep in his own nicotine addiction after serving in the military and due to his deeply introverted nature. A smoke break was the perfect excuse to leave a party or step away from a group and it quickly became a crutch. By the time Moondae was juggling school and his datapal work and various part-time jobs just to be able to survive, he was working his way up to at least half a pack a day.

Knowing that Lee Sejin was using it as a way to cope with a predatory company who had no intentions of letting him succeed and instead leeching off of his trainee fees in perpetuity? Harrowing. Not for the first time, Moondae wonders why he’s being forced to debut as an idol in particular. Especially, when it seems like the industry is distinctly primed for abusing and using young people until their utility was up. Lee Sejin lost more than his youth to these companies, he also lost his money, his happiness, his confidence, and his peace of mind.

“But you quit,” Moondae pipes up, small because he doesn’t know what to say to make it better. “And you’re proving that you’re better than them by getting this far.”

“Yeah,” Keunse replies soft and gentle like he was reassuring Moondae instead. “Yeah, that’s right. So thank you for helping me stay.”

Chapter Text

“Haha, did you see some of the fans in the crowd that were crying after our performance? They were so cute!”

Moondae leverages a judgmental stare at that particular statement. He doesn’t even have to say anything as he pointedly dabs at Keunse’s face with a tissue, helping him mop up his overwhelmed tears because his hands were still shaking from being on stage. Keunse isn’t alone either, the rest of his group has been crying since they successfully finished their performance but Moondae only has two hands and Keunse was the closest to the tissue box.

“Yes, hyung,” he demures, taking out two tissues and putting them into Keunse’s hands. “Ahyeon-hyung, here for you.”

Ahyeon’s teary eyed look is hard to look at without feeling something adjacent to pain in his chest – he really needs to consider allocating some stat points to his looks, it was a powerful tool in the hands of the right person. Moondae pretends like he isn’t dazzled (as usual) and helps dab at Ahyeon’s face to the sound of Keunse’s obnoxious honking as he blows his nose. Ahyeon, with a trust he doesn’t understand how he received, closes his eyes and smiles when Moondae gently pats at his face.

“Thank you, Moondae-yah,” he looks so happy and proud that Moondae can’t help but smile back as he gives Ahyeon his own bundle of tissues. “You did amazing!”

“Ahyeon-hyung did way better,” Moondae replies, matter of fact. “One fan almost fainted when you took off your mask.”

“Valid,” Iljoon pipes up, wrung out and tearful all the same. “Ahyeon-ah, we should classify your face as a weapon at this point.”

Moondae leaves Ahyeon to burn absolutely red as he helps Iljoon sit up properly and wipes at his face with a clean tissue, batting his hands away when he makes to do it himself. Iljoon sits resigned as Moondae fusses and tries to look dignified in front of the camera.

“Iljoon-hyung performed very well too,” Moondae adds. “Did anyone else see the “Ha Iljoon, Please Marry Me” slogans?”

Keunse cackles, a little congested as he continues to mop up at his face and trying not to take off all his stage makeup, dodging Iljoon’s embarrassed flailing.

“Obviously,” he says in between laughs. “He literally cut his line short because he was so flustered.”

“Shut up, you brat! Stop laughing!” Iljoon wails as Keunse deftly avoids every swing. “Someone need to learn to respect their elders!”

Moondae ignores them with practiced ease and makes his way to Raebin who was leaning against the wall, dazed but blinking hard as to not start weeping again. He purses his lips, trying to bite back the urge to smile. He was older than almost everyone in the room, he couldn’t help but think of all of them as adorable like this. He was in a team full of crybabies and he had to admit that it was cute.

“Raebin-hyung,” he pokes at Raebin’s side gently and smiles when Raebin meets his gaze. “It’s okay, come here.”

He goes as red as Ahyeon did but still leans down so Moondae can help gently pat away the little rivers of tears on his face. He closes his eyes and bites down on his bottom lip and it’s clear that he’s embarrassed by the gesture but humors Moondae anyway. Moondae isn’t teasing by nature but there’s something about Raebin that makes him want to mess with him a little – he blames Eugene, he once said that Raebin gave the best reactions and he hasn’t been wrong yet.

So he pauses in the middle of cleaning his teammate up, grinning when Raebin’s brows furrow in confusion. Raebin peeks one eye open, hesitant like he was expecting a jumpscare and Moondae can suddenly see the bunny comparisons when his nose wrinkles. He has to cover his mouth when he accidentally lets out a little laugh – clearly, he was also still addled from the high of performing.

Raebin goes red from his forehead down to his chest in a second, slaps both hands over his face and lets out a hiccup. Moondae hides another laugh in his hand and steps back to give Raebin space. He didn’t want to push it, after all.

“Sorry, hyung,” he says, a little cheeky. “Just wanted to tease you a little.”

Raebin still has his face covered with both hands and lets out a sound like tea kettle and just nods frantically. Moondae slips two tissues into his pocket and turns to the rest of the room to see if anyone else was on the verge of crying again. It’s moments like this that he can almost ignore the cameras and pretend like he was just a normal kid hanging out with his friends, you know, stage performances aside. He slips back into his seat on the bench between Ahyeon and Keunse and lets Keunse rest against him despite the older boy being sweaty and heavy as they watch the rest of the performances.

He claps politely after every performance, clapping more enthusiastically when Eugene, Wongil, Chungwoo and Lee Sejin A’s team manages a pretty flawless stage. He makes sure that the camera catches him cheering and complimenting Wongil in particular. He hasn’t been able to get public favor to turn around for his friend just yet but he’s determined to change that soon.

The rest of filming goes as well as it can, some groups are visibly disappointed, some are hyped up and bouncing in place as the production crew tries to give a room full of exhausted people a rundown like that information wasn’t going in one ear and out the other. Moondae catches the gaze of one PA who snaps and hurries everyone out. One day, TNET would go over the curfew and Moondae would rake in so much overtime. Not today, however, he was just going to drag his sore body home and sleep off the inevitable post-filming fever.

Ever since his friends caused a scene trying to fight over whose family would drive him home, Moondae has made it a point to sneak away before their tired brains could remember that he went home via bus and subway. He’s almost in the clear, checking his phone for the next bus when Ahyeon pops out of nowhere.

“Moondae-yah!” Ahyeon somehow has enough energy to bounce in place. “Come, come, my parents want to meet you!”

And Ahyeon is usually very shy, reserved and polite but he manages to forget all social convention as he drags Moondae over to a parked car at the edge of the parking lot. Moondae is almost convinced this was a set up to try trap him into accepting a drive home again if it weren’t Ahyeon, who didn’t have a malicious cell in body, doing it. He hopes he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels as Ahyeon excitedly introduces him to his parents.

“Mom, Dad! This is Park Moondae, the one I’ve been telling you about!” Ahyeon wraps an arm around him and Moondae accidentally drags them both down in a low bow as he greets them.

“Hello, it’s very nice to meet Ahyeon-hyung’s parents,” he says, still bowed. “Were you able to attend our performance tonight?”

Obviously, Moondae was aware that someone with such distinct features as Ahyeon had to have inherited from somewhere, still he feels a little blindsided and dazzled in triplicate as he looks at all three members of the Seon family. His mother and father are stunning and Ahyeon is like the perfect culmination of both of them.

“Oh my goodness, look at you,” Ahyeon’s father coos. “You look just like our Ahyeon! It’s so nice to meet you, Park Moondae.”

“Doesn’t he, my dear?” Ahyeon’s mother laughs, hands over her mouth. “It’s so nice to meet you, Park Moondae. Ahyeon-ah has told us so much about you.”

“Mom,” Ahyeon whimpers, already hiding his face as if she said something supremely embarrassing. “Stop!”

“Um,” Moondae says, still blinking the pretty people sparkles out of his vision. “You can refer to me casually. And thank you but Ahyeon-hyung is much prettier than me.”

“Ah!” Ahyeon’s mother covers her face again, trying to hide her smile. “He is very pretty, isn’t he?”

Ahyeon wails next to him and Moondae hides his own grin.

“But my husband isn’t wrong,” she continues, her eyes rounded out in soft half moons. “You look like you could be our Ahyeon’s little brother, Moondae-yah.”

It’s Moondae’s turn to flush and that only has Ahyeon’s parents cooing even more – he doesn’t know when it turned into tease Moondae hour but he needs to get out fast before he starts spiraling. He also doesn’t know if his self-esteem will recover after being around such good looking people.

“Th-thank you,” he stutters out bowing again for lack of anything better to do – this is why Gunwoo didn’t have any friends, he’s too awkward to know exactly when to dip out of a situation like this without offending anyone. “Um, I’ll let you get home. It was very nice to meet you.”

Luck, however, was not on his side and Ahyeon’s parents don’t want to let him run away.

“Are your parents picking you up?” Ahyeon’s father asks innocently.

“Ah, no,” Moondae replies, feeling strangely shy. “I take the bus home.”

“What? This late? Oh no, we can’t let you do that,” Ahyeon’s father frets, and it looks like Ahyeon inherited his worry from him as he wrings at the steering wheel. “That’s so dangerous!”

“Come on, Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon’s mother cajoles. “Please, let us drive you home.”

“Yes!” Ahyeon adds, grasping his hand with two hands. “Please, Moondae-yah! It won’t be any trouble at all.”

Ahyeon’s parents call out their own agreement and Moondae’s gaze bounces between the three of them. This was a trap, after all. Worse, it was a well-meaning, honest, genuine, not-actually-a-trap, trap – arguably the hardest kind to overcome. He’s stuck in between a triangle of pretty people he would possibly make mad, or worse, sad if he said no.

Well, at least it made Ahyeon happy.

The ride home wasn’t as painful as he thought it would be, mostly he just had fun watching Ahyeon flail and flounder as his parent’s teased him. They never made Moondae feel left out though as they continuously asked him questions about his time in the show, about everyone they met and befriended on the show, and about school (which he answered as truthfully and as evasively as he could). Thankfully, they reached his apartment building before they could ask about his family.

He spends a few minutes bowing multiple times to thank them for the ride, to the point that he can tell that Ahyeon’s parents were actually flustered. Ahyeon tries to invite him out but anyone with eyes could tell that Moondae had officially reached his social interaction limit for the day and Ahyeon’s mother tactfully points out how tired they must have been. Moondae kind of wants to ask her to train him in picking social cues so easily. He could observe, interpret and analyze with the best of them but put them into practice?

Hit or miss. Clearly, as seen with his dismal efforts with Lee Sejin A.

He waves the family of three off and feels warm when they wait until he’s inside the building, the glass doors closed firmly behind him, before leaving. Moondae isn’t skipping up the stairs, hell no, he just managed to have a little energy because he didn’t have to commute home. It’s fairly late at night so he does his best to open the corridor door to his floor quietly. It has a tendency to screech, even after copious amounts of WD40, and he doesn’t want to get yelled at by the couple who lived right by the entrance again. He barely managed to stop from snarking (and from getting lectured) last time and he doesn’t want to chance another long tiring encounter.

Moondae fumbles with his key under the flickering light two doors down from his apartment because the landlord still hadn’t replaced any of the bulbs in his half of the hallway and stops short when, even from this distance, he can see his door ajar. Something like a chill crawls through his entire body when he can see his lights on and the dancing shadows of people moving in front of the sliver of light. Moondae immediately presses himself against the wall, trying to melt into the dark as his heart races.

Someone was in his apartment.

Someone who absolutely wasn’t his landlord since his car wasn’t in the parking lot. Not that the old man ever visited other than to yell at him for being a day late paying rent again. He’s far enough that he can only hear faint murmuring, nothing distinct or obvious, and the clinking of bottles and the loud sound of metal utensils against ceramic. There’s a few loud laughs punching through the silence of the night and Moondae feels a drop of sweat crawl down his spine.

“...come home…?” a girl’s complaining voice carries out of his apartment. “...waiting...for fucking ever!”

“Always fucking complaining!” a man’s voice is louder than the rest, more annoyed and clear. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

There’s the sound of more indistinct voices arguing and then more laughing. It’s clear that there’s more than two people, Moondae can probably count seven or eight of them. As Gunwoo, he would have been wary but unafraid, his rationality would have won out and he would have called the police immediately from a safe distance away. But for some reason, all he feels is a blank sort of fear and he can’t bring himself to move where he’s hiding in the shadows.

As Moondae, he’s just a slip of a kid – 169cm now (one centimeter growth was nothing to celebrate but Moondae would take his wins where he could get it) but still too skinny, basically malnourished despite Nari’s best efforts. This wasn’t like his grumpy neighbor who was all bark, no bite, who still checked on him during black outs and dropped off the side dishes his girlfriend made sometimes; no, these were strangers in the little home he made for himself.

And that may be the worst part, Moondae thinks feeling his heartbeat in his temples, it may have been a terrible place to stay – small enough for only a child to live in, thin walls and next to no heat, but it was Moondae’s home. It was the space he made for himself, where he could be Moondae or Gunwoo or whoever he was in between identity crises. This tiny room that he felt safe and cozy in, where he slowly started to rebuild after losing everything.

It’s where he kept the matching scarves Wongil bought for him and Heeseung, it’s where the novel Iljoon had bought on a whim and given him was resting on his bed table. It’s where the three big, comfortable hoodies Keunse told him he could keep sat folded in, it’s where the various snacks Ahyeon would sneak into his bag was carefully stowed away in a basket under his sink, it’s where the polaroids of Eugene, Raebin and him were stuck onto his whiteboard, it’s where the little red envelopes of New Year’s money and greeting cards from everyone at Nari’s House sat untouched. It’s where Park Moondae’s suicide letter, his last, desperate words to the world who never gave him a chance was. It’s his home.

For the second time in this new life, Moondae can feel tears of frustration, sorrow, and something like grief spring into his eyes at the thought that that feeling of belonging and safety he created was now gone. Trampled on by strangers rifling through his things and touching everything he thought he could keep solely as his; he feels weak, he feels angry, he feels angry that he is weak, and he feels, most of all, terrified. It’s an unfamiliar feeling.

Moondae swipes at his eyes and pads backwards as quietly as he can until he’s back at the screechy door and opens it painstakingly slow as to not alert anyone. He doesn’t know how dangerous the people in his apartment could be and he doesn’t want to involve any of his neighbors if he can help it. It’s at the last moment that his phone rings, shrill and loud in the dead silence. The faint noise from his apartment goes quiet and the moment he can see the door widen the slightest bit, Moondae is already back in the staircase, pounding down the stairs.

His legs feel like jelly when he’s back on the first floor and he bursts out the front door with terrified gasp. He doesn’t know if anyone followed him but he’s at the front of the building now, and he’s at least safe in the knowledge that they can’t see him from his apartment because his windows face the back. Still, he runs and ducks behind the storage shed trying to keep his panting quiet.

Moondae fumbles with his phone, turning it onto silent with shaking hands as he crouches in the dark like a scared child. He immediately feels ridiculous as he does this and wills his hands to stop shaking, feeling so much like a coward as he checks who called him. The screen lights up with another call back and he winces when the light is bright against his eyes. It’s Ahyeon.

“Hyung,” he whispers urgently, cutting Ahyeon’s greeting in the middle. “Ahyeon-hyung.”

“Moondae-yah?” Ahyeon replies slowly, concerned. “Moondae-yah, are you okay?”

“Hyung,” Moondae bites down hard on his bottom lip when it feels like a sob is about to come out. “Hyung, I’m very very sorry but can you please help me? Please.”

“Moondae,” Ahyeon’s voice is tight with worry. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“I, I’m,” Moondae lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ahyeon soothes, and there’s a moment where there’s a faint murmur in the background. “Moondae, it’s going to be okay.”

Moondae takes another breath before peeking out, making sure no one came out of the building after him. He ducks back down when the coast is clear.

“I think people broke into my apartment,” Moondae confesses, feeling humiliated saying it out loud – he was making such a big deal out of nothing: no one saw him or did anything to him, he wasn’t even hurt, he had no right to be so scared. “I-I ran outside but I think they heard me.”

Ahyeon makes a scared sound and there’s exclamations echoing in the background that make it obvious that he was on speakerphone. Ahyeon’s parents must have heard. The humiliation starts anew and he regrets ever opening his mouth.

“I’m, I’m sorry,” Moondae says again, lamely. “I’m very sorry.”

“Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon’s mother says, gentle and calm and soothing even as she sounds far away. “Moondae-yah, are you somewhere safe?”

“I think,” he says, hugging his knees close to his chest. “I’m outside hiding behind the storage shed.”

“Good, that’s good,” she encourages. “Stay there, okay? We’re coming right now. Your ahjussi is calling the police so it’s going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Moondae repeats miserably, he just ruined their night, he’s continuing to ruin their night and yet they’re still being so nice. “I’m so sorry.”

“Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon’s voice is worried but he’s trying to hide it. “We’re not far, just two minutes away. We’ll be there soon.”

“Not far,” he echoes, the panic making everything feel hollow. “Two minutes.”

Ahyeon keeps up a litany of soothing words the entire way and when Moondae hears a car rev into his parking lot he pokes his head out and sees the Seon’s car a little away from the entrance of the building. Ahyeon’s parents immediately spill out, Ahyeon’s mother has her hand gripped tight around what looks like a flashlight and their heads turn and dart all over the place until they see Moondae, pathetic and wide eyed, peeking out from behind the shed.

“Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon’s father sighs in relief, immediately coming through the brush to wrap a strong, warm arm around him to gently guide him back to the car. “You’re safe, oh thank god.”

Moondae is probably in shock because he just lets himself be helped, carefully but quickly, into the backseat of the car and into Ahyeon’s waiting arms. He doesn’t know how long he sat there, dazed, wrapped up in Ahyeon’s arms before he starts trembling. Ahyeon makes a noise like he’s been punched and holds him tighter, smoothing his hair back with one hand and continually rubbing his back with the other. The shame of his weakness will come later, along with the mortification at how dramatic he was and how he overreacted to something so small. Right now, Moondae buries his face in the crook of Ahyeon’s neck and cries.

Chapter Text

Moondae doesn’t remember much of what happens in between. Too much of that time was spent crying like there was something to actually cry about with poor Ahyeon doing his best to mitigate his very embarrassing and burdensome situation. He vaguely remembers his friend laying his hand over his eyes when the trailing blue and red lights finally come into the parking lot, practically dragging him onto his lap and shushing him when Moondae tries to politely squirm out of his grip. The sirens were off, thankfully, the last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in their sleepy part of town. But when he sneaks a peek through Ahyeon’s fingers and sees the police start to trail seven raucous people out of his building, he knows his days there are numbered.

Part of him is thankful, he doesn’t think he’d be able to sleep there for any longer than necessary – ruined door aside – the other part is resigned and anticipating crawling back to the local youth hostel for the foreseeable future. When all the intruders are packed into the police van, Moondae tries to scramble out and join the serious looking conversation between Ahyeon’s parents and the police since it’s his problem but Ahyeon manages to keep him in place. For someone who was too shy to even speak to him the first day they met, he’s certainly showing a completely different side these days.

Any protest Moondae makes dies down when Ahyeon in a gentle tone that brooks no argument, tells him to let his parents take care of this part since they made the call. It makes too much sense to Moondae’s frazzled mind so he settles down again, still a little dazed and confused and reeling from the mortification of crying, of his disproportionately strong reaction to something basically innocuous. The four of them trail after the police back to the station and despite the increasingly late hour, the Seon family meets his assurance that he would be fine alone gamely and ignore his urging them home. They opt to surround him on all sides and Ahyeon’s father grips both shoulders above him when the police ask him to recount what happened.

He must cut a pretty miserable figure because the officer keeps their questions short and concise, only raising an eyebrow when Moondae says that his door was broken open, the knob hanging at a bent angle and the thin metal nearly curving in the middle. Moondae understands, the damage called for a lot of force, cheap door or not. It was strange that no one filed a complaint about the noise at the very least.

They’re nearly home free, the officer handing Moondae a card to contact for following steps if he wanted to press charges (he didn’t, couldn’t, really) when the group who broke into his apartment are walked back into the room on their way into the small holding cells along the far wall. Moondae would like to talk to whoever decided that the perp walk had to cut through the space where possible victims (not that he was one) could be sitting blindsided – bad choices were made in the design of this room all around.

“Yah! Park Moondae!”

There’s a boy around Moondae age at the front, tall and bulky, almost handsome if he wasn’t sneering, gnashing his teeth and spitting furious, practically dragging the police guiding him forward. Moondae keeps his gaze on the officer in front of him and takes the card gingerly, slipping it into the front pocket of his backpack and ignores the way his heart starts to pick up in speed. It’s the same loud voice he heard in the hallway.

“Oh, suddenly too good to look at me? Park Moondae! You dramatic bastard, tell them it was just a joke. It was a just joke between friends – this isn’t funny anymore so tell them!”

“This is unacceptable,” Ahyeon’s mother practically hisses and she surprises Moondae when she cups the back of his head and presses his face against her shoulder. “They shouldn’t be able to speak to him, let aloneeven be in the same area like this!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

The officer restraining the kid winces and works at pulling the boy away but it’s too late and there’s a cacophony of noise as the other kids, a collection of teenage girls and boys all around Moondae’s age, find their own courage and start to protest.

“He told us to come over!”

“Moondae even told us to bring soju and snacks, it’s not our fault – it’s his!”

“Yeah, yeah, check our IDs we all go to the same school!”

“We’re all still minors, you can’t keep us here! Let us go!”

“Park Moondae, you can pretend all you want,” the boy shouts over his shoulder, even as he dragged back out of the room where they came from. “No matter what you change, you’ll always be a freak!”

Moondae doesn’t know if it’s his rage or some kind of leftover ingrained trauma that this body held but he trembles at all the shouting, it sounds too familiar for it to be the first time that he’s heard that particular phrase. He realizes a moment later that it reads like one of the many in the barrage of hateful texts that Moondae saw in his phone. Gunwoo doesn’t know what this poor kid could have done to get such visceral, violent messages sent his way but more and more, he doubts it’s solely Moondae’s fault. This entire night only cements that belief.

“Sorry boss,” one of the officers comes back out with a stack of paperwork. “But records match, they’re all seventeen or eighteen, still minors.”

“What does that mean?” Ahyeon’s father demands, stepping in front of his family and Moondae.

“Well,” the officer says haltingly. “There’s not much we can do since they’re minors. You said they’re all from the same school?”

He turns to his coworker who nods with a sigh.

“Yeah, they’re all from Sillim High.”

The officer turns back to Moondae who feels composed enough to ease out of Ahyeon’s mother’s gentle grasp.

“Your classmates?” he asks casually.

“Ah,” and Moondae swallows the a bitter pill of realization that tells himsome things he worked hard to hide may finally see the light. “Previously, but not anymore. I haven’t seen anyone from that school since last year.”

And it’s the truth, he hasn’t seen any of them – he’s seen their mocking texts and borderline threatening messages, sure, but he’s never been able to put a face to the rage until tonight.

“Haaah,” the officer sighs gustily. “Well, how about this; let’s just say this was a prank that went too far and call it a night, yeah? I’ll call their parents, yours are already here anyway and then you can all talk and work something out without resorting to involving us or pressing charges.”

There’s immediate protest from the Seon family but Moondae just clears his throat and avoids looking at them when he replies, calm and steady and not like he was saying some very uncomfortable things around strangers who have already done too much for him.

“This is my friend and his parents,” he says politely. “They’re just kindly helping me out tonight.”

“Oh. Well, that changes things.” the policeman replies but he looks skeptical as he looks at all of them one after the other.

Moondae can see the next question forming in his head in real time. And in a futile effort, he sends repeated messages over and over again through his eyes to try and stop it before everything spiraled into an even messier drama. He was exhausted, from a long day of filming and performing, from dealing with the adrenaline rush of fear, from coming to terms with the truth that he was afraid then and would continue to be for a very long time. Moondae wants to lay down and sleep but he doesn’t want to go back to what was once his home.

“What’s your mom or dad’s number then?” the officer sounds annoyed, like Moondae intended to ruin his night with this inconvenience. “We need them here to release you if none of these people are your guardians.”

Moondae would have been more forthcoming if the officer wasn’t so visibly bored, like he was already sick of having to deal with him like Moondae was the one who committed a crime. It would’ve been more insulting if Moondae didn’t also want this night to end as soon as possible; from the embarrassing sobbing and emotions to reporting Moondae’s bullies to the police, it was just too much.

“I don’t have guardians,” Moondae grits out, pinching the material of his pants between his fingertips to stop himself from shaking as he carefully avoids the startled looks thrown his way. “I’m an emancipated minor.”

The detective is back to skeptical and he looks Moondae up and down like he doesn’t believe him.

“You have paperwork proving that?” and the officer is one facial expression from looking derisive. “Who’s your social worker?”

“Kim Yoonha, here’s her card to confirm,” Moondae answers promptly, shuffling through his wallet to give the officer a copy of her card; just because he was dreading this day in particular doesn’t mean that he was unprepared; no, he has everything set down to a copy of his emancipation on his phone. “And yes, I have proof right here – it’s a digital copy but she and the notary left a digital seal on this version as well.”

The officer gives it a cursory glance and waves him away, refusing the card and pinching the bridge of his nose instead. Moondae wants to punch him but then he’ll end up in the same holding cell as the people he just put in there and he’s not looking to add to a mugshot his already dismal public image.

“Well, what do you want to do then?” the officer practically rolls his eyes in his face. “I hope you know that even if you proceed with pressing charges, nothing is going to come from it because they’re minors like you. They’ll, at best, get a slap on the wrist.”

“How could you say that to him?! He’s just a child and you’re not going to help him?”

Moondae almost forgot that there were others around and he turns wide-eyed when Ahyeon’s mother tucks him against her side again. She has her arm around his shoulders and her hand wrapped around his wrist, rubbing her thumb against his pulse. Even furious, she’s gentle and it makes Moondae’s heart ache. He’s keenly reminded of his own mother, soft and patient even in her anger and frustration, never taking it out on Gunwoo even when it was his fault.

“Ma’am,” and his voice is impatient and condescending. “I’m just being realistic and hedging his expectations; suing these kids will be a long and expensive process so I’m recommending it for his sake. Minors don’t get much punishment and any good lawyer can easily spin this as something the school should have taken care. Boys will be boys, you know how it is.”

“I know,” Moondae replies before anyone else can speak on his behalf. “I know and I understand. I won’t press charges.”

“Moondae-yah!”

There’s a chorus of shock across all three Seons and Moondae tries his best to smile at them reassuringly but it’s very much unsuccessful when it looks like both Ahyeon and his father are about to burst into tears. The resemblance was uncanny and if Moondae was in the right state of mind, he would comment on it to break the tense atmosphere. But right now, he’s just too tired and too tired to pretend.

“Alright, good. That’s good, kid,” the officer says encouragingly. “We have your report. I know it’s not ideal or what you want to hear but you’re making the right decision. We’ll hold these kids until their parents come to pick them up and make sure they understand not to bother you again, okay?”

“Yes,” Moondae nods back, unconvinced. “Thank you.”

It’s silent when everyone finally spills out of the police station in half-daze after a last few bit of questioning. Moondae, slapped in the face by the cold of the still brisk winter, finally remembers his manners and stops. The Seon family stop too, hands automatically coming up as if to catch him. He ignores the movement and bows low enough that he can almost feel himself tip over but he’s too humiliated to even look them in the face as he did this. Oh, his parents would be ashamed if they could see their son now – not even able to lift his head around people who helped him out of the goodness of their hearts.

Most normal people would have dropped him off and called it a night but these three near-strangers had dropped everything and essentially rescued him.

“Thank you,” he says when the silence crawls longer; it’s such a paltry thing to say in the face of what they’ve done for him tonight. “Thank you so much. I sincerely apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused you all and for imposing on your kindness. I truly appreciate your help and I don’t know how I can begin to make up for all of it.”

Moondae is startled out of his bow when Ahyeon crashes into him, practically straightening him out and holding him tight enough that he goes breathless. He freezes, a little off-kilter, when he sees that Ahyeon’s parents looking at the both of them, sorrowful and regretful. He glances up at Ahyeon with wide eyes that only go wider when he realizes that Ahyeon is crying, tears slipping down his face and dripping off his chin, his mouth trembling and pressed tight together.

“I’m sorry,” Moondae says, the words coming automatically. “Hyung, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Ahyeon sounds frustrated, almost furious. “You have nothing to apologize for, nothing- none of this was your fault. I’m sorry, Moondae. I’m so so so sorry. I’m sorry the police did nothing to help you, I’m sorry I couldn’t help, I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry.”

Moondae feels panic start to pound and claw in his throat and he reaches up to mop at Ahyeon’s endless tears with his sleeves. It’s like a sick reflection of what they were doing a handful of hours ago, sitting and basking in the glow of a successful performance. Moondae prides himself on his problem solving; he’s not a traditional sort of smart or intelligent, but he is capable and solution orientated. He always has some kind of contingency or fallback after a lifetime of the unexpected happening all at once but all of his careful planning and organization is dust in the face of his friend’s tears.

“You did help me,” Moondae replies in a hurry, trying to stop his hands from shaking any more than they already were. “You-, you, you came. You showed up. You let me c-cry, you. You stayed.”

Moondae blinks hard, he can feel the burn of mortifying tears again and he feels his heart shatter when Ahyeon’s face crumples and he starts to cry even harder.

“And I’ll stay,” Ahyeon whispers, voice thick with tears. “I’ll stay, Moondae, as long as you need me.”

Ahyeon is peripherally aware that Moondae is young – he’s shorter than the rest of them, bird boned and thin, with soft cheeks, wide-eyed and politely curious like a fawn getting still getting its legs. It’s easy to forget, however, when he’s also so self-assured and settled. Sometimes it feels like he’s already experienced lifetimes with his quiet confidence and composed disposition. Ahyeon can sometimes picture the adult Moondae will become superimposed on top of his current image and it’s the same person, just a bit taller. He already feels like he’s ready to brave the adult world, far better equipped to handle it than Ahyeon.

But like this, under a thick duvet and curled up like he’s trying to protect himself even in his sleep, he looks like a child. He is a child.

Ahyeon runs his fingers through Moondae’s hair rhythmically, trying his best to soothe him into uncurling even a little. He realizes that this is probably more for his own comfort than Moondae’s but he can’t help it. The acute terror he felt at hearing Moondae’s voice, frantic and shaking, tinny and far away over the phone, fearful and so painfully young, left him breathless. And when faced with Moondae’s tears, Moondae who he had been thinking of as an unshakable pillar, a cool-headed, unflappable figure, it was like his heart stopped entirely. Seeing his usually neutral face crumple and break, big tears spilling fast, but silent like he was scared of being heard, broke him irreparably.

He woke up from a dream or a nightmare a few minutes ago, a dizzying array of colors and sounds, inscrutable as he chased after something. Ahyeon doesn’t remember what it was but got up all the same, bleary-eyed and stumbling, all he knew was that he had to get up and check on Moondae.

Moondae was safe, of course, finally asleep after a long night bundled up in Ahyeon’s guest bedroom. Anyone with nefarious intentions would have to get through a lobby with 24/7 rotating security teams, keyed elevators and staircases, a biometric front door lock and Ahyeon with a grudge but still, the paranoia is there. Staying up and keeping watch over his young friend was the least he could do.

Ahyeon had been naive – living peacefully, protected and cared for without a worry about paying for the roof over his head, for the food in his fridge and pantry, all his basic needs like clothes, toiletries, medicine, for his utilities, his hobbies, his transportation. It wasn’t like he was a spoiled child either, but he could never fathom how much Moondae had silently suffered while he was living easy. And he knows that this self-pity is more a reflection of his regret that he hadn’t dug into his friend’s life and that rationally speaking, Moondae would sooner accept a punch to the face before he’d accept his charity or guilt, but emotions are tricky, tangled things Ahyeon is still learning to unravel.

It had been hard when Moondae revealed he had intended to go back to what was essentially a crime scene. Harder to convince him to stay with Ahyeon in his apartment and hardest watching him stand, small and unsure in the broken remains of his home, sorting through what he could salvage. Ahyeon had been incandescently furious to the point that his father had to take him outside while his mother distracted Moondae so he wouldn’t scare him. But Ahyeon couldn’t help it, it was just so unfair, it was so fucking unfair.

He had to take several calming breaths before his father let him back in and he channeled that rage into methodically helping Moondae pack his meager belongings into some boxes they had brought along. And Ahyeon isn’t calling it meager as an exaggeration, his father had ended up buying more boxes than necessary and had to awkwardly return them to only corner store still open.

Two boxes. Moondae’s entire life, rather what was left of it after a group of bullies had destroyed, fit into two boxes. How did he not notice that the child he’d been supposedly watching over only had a few outfits to his name? Only had a paper thin futon and old heated blanket to keep him safe and warm over the winter? Only had prepackaged meals in a mini fridge? Ahyeon had been blind for so long.

There were pockets of good in all the terrible, fondness and joy when he saw the carefully arranged photos of Moondae with Cha Eugene and Kim Raebin, the hoodies Lee Sejin had tried to covertly gift, the little gifts that all of them tried to discreetly ply onto Moondae so he couldn’t refuse. Affection so dear when he saw that Moondae had stowed away all the snacks he had given him in a cubby under his sink.

Still, nothing could override the deteriorating grief at seeing this little life ruined by careless kids.

Ahyeon finds himself angry again, watching Moondae sleep peacefully after having to concede. Nothing they could do, the officer had insisted, pointless. Ahyeon knows his mother in particular would have pushed and pushed until the police did their jobs but seeing Moondae smile trying to reassure them instead of the other way around stayed any further argument. It was hard enough for a child to live alone and survive but to expect him to want to fight the law under prepared, under funded and under immense public scrutiny? It was too much.

Moondae’s brow furrows, nose wrinkling, when Ahyeon stops moving and he can’t help but smile and start running his fingers through his hair again. His entire body goes lax, loose and splayed, and Ahyeon starts to hum the lullaby his mother would sing him when he was a child himself. His voice isn’t as good as Moondae’s, there were few who could say that, but Moondae seems to enjoy it when he wriggles closer to Ahyeon, like he’s trying to hear the song better, even asleep.

Moondae’s words echo in his head then. You came, you showed up, you stayed.

You stayed, you stayed, you stayed.

He said it so gratefully too, like Ahyeon went out of his way to do something life changing and incredible when it was the bare minimum anyone should have done to help a scared child in danger. Ahyeon doesn’t know what kind of life Moondae has lived and he knows he may never get the full story with how well he hid this, but he knows that Moondae deserves more. He deserves basic decency and respect, he deserves unconditional love and comfort, he deserves safety and a warm home.

Ahyeon knows his parents are about two days from adopting Moondae just to give that to him. And he’d be inclined to agree if he didn’t know how fiercely independent Moondae was and if he wasn’t newly aware of how precarious the topic of family was for Moondae. It had been easy to piece the basic story from Moondae’s halting answers to the officer.

One year, Moondae had lost his parents a year ago.

And Ahyeon was aware that he was a resilient kid but Moondae was strong beyond his years. To work hard to support himself, to run towards his dreams, to continue trying even when it seemed like production had a grudge against him. It was incredible, it was respectable, it was heartbreaking.

“Moondae,” Ahyeon whispers to his sleeping figure with a wry, sad smile. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“You have so many people on your side, Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon gives into the fondness and warmth and presses a kiss to the crown of Moondae’s head. “And we all love you so so so much.”

Chapter Text

Lee Sejin wakes up to fifteen missed calls from Ahyeon only a day after filming wrapped up and feels his stomach drop. He and Ahyeon talk, obviously, they have their Idol Inc. group chats in several different iterations and they have their own extensive log between the two of them with occasional video calls when Sejin is too lazy to text. But audio calls? And this many times? It only spells bad news.

He doesn’t even consider the time when he stumbles out of bed, nearly cracking his forehead against the corner of his night table as he shuffles his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he rifles through his drawers for a new shirt and pants. The ringing goes on for an eternity before Ahyeon finally picks up, voice sleep thick and low.

“Hm? Sejin-ah?” Ahyeon answers, groaning. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” Sejin echoes incredulously. “I should be asking you that! Is everything okay? You called me fifteen times last night, dude.”

“Oh. Oh! Oh no, I’m so sorry,” Ahyeon starts babbling. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot – it was just, just so tense and scary and I figured that you should be kept in the loop. Oh my god, I didn’t even ask Moondae. Oh my gosh.”

“Ahyeon,” Sejin calls, trying to keep his voice soothing and steady instead of spiraling into a panic with his friend – he can’t help it when his heartbeat ratchets up several times hearing that Moondae is involved though. “Ahyeon-ah, calm down. Start from the beginning.”

“But I don’t even know if I can!” Ahyeon’s voice goes high and tense and Sejin is about three seconds away from running to his apartment from the anxiety. “Oh my god, Sejin-ah, I might have fucked up! This is so bad.”

“You? I doubt it,” Sejin laughs, trying to hide his nerves under good humor even as he hops on one foot to get a new pair of pants on. “You’ve never done anything wrong in your life ever.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Ahyeon cries. “I shouldn’t have called you without permission. I’m so sorry for worrying you but I need to talk to Moondae-. Moondae-yah! Oh my gosh, when did you get there?”

There’s a bit of a shuffle and Sejin can distinctly hear Moondae’s voice, small and tired, in the background.

“Hyung?” Moondae calls out. “Is everything alright? I heard yelling.”

“Oh, Moondae-yah, it’s okay, it’s okay, everything is okay,” Ahyeon’s voice goes from spiraling, on the edge, to immediately soothing and soft; he sounds like he’s talking to a frightened animal and Sejin feels like he can’t breathe. “Go back to sleep, sorry for the noise.”

There’s a pause and then Moondae’s voice again.

“...Was it the police?”

“Police?!” Sejin yells into the phone, unable to help himself, the fear rising from his chest to behind his eyes and now he has a migraine from the stress of not knowing exactly what was going on and if his friends were okay. “What do you mean the police?! What’s going on?”

“Keunse-hyung?” Moondae says, bewildered. “Is that Lee Sejin-hyungnim?”

“Yeah kiddo, it’s me,” Sejin replies, putting his phone on speaker to slip on a shirt and grab a backpack. “What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you two safe? Why are you asking about the police?”

“Ah, hyung, it’s-.”

“Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon interrupts and he sounds so apologetic. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking but I tried calling Lee Sejin last night and he didn’t pick up so he’s calling me back. But I don’t know, I know I should have asked for permission first but I was so sc-, I wasn’t thinking.”

There’s a shuffling silence for a moment before Ahyeon makes a sound like he’s dying.

“It’s okay,” Moondae replies and he sounds closer to the phone. “Um, thank you. Thank you again. I don’t mind Keunse-hyung knowing and I know you didn’t call him to gossip about me or anything. It was really stressful last night and I know I was a lot of trouble and annoying to be around so-.”

“Moondae, no,” and Sejin has never heard Ahyeon be so stern or forceful before. “You are not annoying, you will never be, you weren’t trouble whatsoever and if I had to, I’d go through last night again and again, okay? I would have stayed even if you didn’t want me to.”

There’s a small sniffle and Sejin strains his ears as he fights his shirt because while he doubts that could’ve been Moondae, he also doesn’t want to hear Ahyeon cry over the phone – he doesn’t know if his poor heart could take that. There’s another shuffle and some silence before Sejin snaps, the worry finally boiling over.

“Can someone, please, please just tell me if you two are okay?!” Sejin yells over the phone and he can hear a clatter from the kitchen as someone, probably his dad in the middle of making breakfast, drops something. “I’m going to die of a heart attack from the stress!”

“Ah! Sejin-ah! I’m so sorry,” Ahyeon calls out, voice getting louder as he seemingly brings the phone closer to his face. “We’re okay, we’re fine. I’m so sorry. Just-, give me. Just. Um. One moment.”

There’s a low murmur and Ahyeon’s voice asking if it really was okay before Ahyeon is back to fully audible, thankfully, for Sejin’s continued heart health.

“Sejin-ah, are you free today?”

Sejin would’ve been free even if he wasn’t and he’s shoving so many miscellaneous items in his bag that might not even be appropriate for whatever is going on.

“Yes, yes, and I’m headed to your place so don’t you dare think about leaving. You and Moondae stay right fucking there until I come, okay?” he shoves another hoodie in his bag to force onto Moondae and the book Ahyeon lent him before packing a change of clothes for himself as well. “You two are so lucky you’re cute, I could never tolerate this stress from anyone else.”

He’s assuring Ahyeon that’s mostly kidding before hanging up. Sejin goes through the motions, mind racing with worse and worse things as he quickly washes his face and brushes his teeth, zipping his bag shut and running out of his bedroom. He calls a ‘be back tomorrow’ over his shoulder to his dad who only reprimands him for all the noise so early in the morning before he’s telling him to ‘have fun, text me when you get there’. He’s ordered a ride that was only a minute away and he nearly scares the pants off of his poor driver when he barrels into the backseat before he can fully stop.

The drive is only seven minutes but it feels like an eternity as he jitters and bounces his leg in anxiety. Ahyeon let him know that his doorman knows to let him in and gives him the guest code via text and he runs out of the door with a quick thank you and a large tip when he’s finally there. He’s never felt like he’s hated elevators in his life, but there’s something distinctively evil about it today as he watches the numbers climb higher and higher. When he finally gets to Ahyeon’s door and punches the code in, he feels like he’s lost several years off of his life.

“Ahyeon! Moondae!” he shouts, making sure the door was locked behind him before throwing off his shoes and trying to find his friends. “I’m here! Where are you two?”

“Sejin-ah? That was so quick, oh my gosh! Sit sit, oh, I’m so sorry for worrying you.”

Ahyeon trails out of his room still in his pajamas with sleep-mussed hair and he immediately fusses, trying to get Sejin to sit down on the sofa. He can admit that he probably looks like a mess – hardly his fault, what was he expected to do when faced with the fact that something so terrible happened to his friends last night that the police had to be involved? He could be forgiven for looking like a mess.

Moondae pads out soon after and he’s swamped in too large pajamas that look similar to Ahyeon’s, his hair is standing in all directions and the only thing that ruined this extremely adorable picture were his red-rimmed eyes, swollen and tired, like not only did he not get enough sleep but like he was crying. He can feel his world tilt a little, knowing that it wasn’t Ahyeon sniffling and miserable over the phone just moments ago but Moondae.

His little Moondae who would sooner walk into traffic than give an inch to vulnerability, Moondae who cool and collected at all times even in the face of career-ending crises, Moondae who gave affection like a feral, hunted animal, hesitant and wary. Sejin immediately gets up, dropping his backpack on the floor and cups Moondae’s cheeks. He feels like crying himself, Moondae’s face is so small and soft in his hands, distinctively fragile and frail and he lightly brushes under his eyes with his thumbs.

“What happened.”

It’s not a question, more of a demand and he’d try and police his tone better but in the face of Moondae in tears, even in its aftermath, it’s like everything he’s made himself was thrown out the window.

“I’m okay,” Moondae assures, trying to wriggle out of his hold and Sejin’s touch is so feather light that it’s easy to get out. “Hyung, really, I’m fine.”

“Sejin-ah,” Ahyeon’s voice is soft and assuring. “Come on, sit down, let’s get you some tea and we can all talk.”

And they talk.

And talk.

And Sejin can feel his jaw grow tenser and tenser as the harrowing story comes into full view. Ahyeon does most of the speaking with Moondae giving quiet and small interjections here and there, Moondae is curled up in a ball next to Ahyeon on the couch, resting his cheek on his knees as he watches Ahyeon recount what happened like he was being told a bedtime story.

He looks too calm and cool and Sejin would’ve believed it if it weren’t for the way his fingers picked at the fabric of his pajama pants and the way his legs trembled every so often. He tried to hide it by pretending to shuffle and squirm into a more comfortable position but Sejin can easily tell that this was affecting him more than he tried to make it sound. And he tried to smooth it over, really, the kid had a way with words – if it was just him telling the story and without Ahyeon around to temper it with the truth, Sejin could have believed everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

“And so,” Sejin finally says after sitting through the full horror story. “The police aren’t going to do anything?”

Moondae flinches and Sejin hurries to correct his tone, the rage bleeding it tenser and harder than intended.

“Did they call yet? Did they say anything about what’s going to happen to the people who broke in?” he asks, keeping Moondae in his peripherals as he asks Ahyeon.

Ahyeon just presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head.

“They, um, they were minors,” Moondae explains weakly. “He said there was nothing much they could do.”

“Bullshit,” Sejin spits and he gets up and starts to pace. “That’s fucking bullshit.”

“Sejin-ah,” Ahyeon says, patting the couch cushion next to him. “Come on, please sit down.”

“No!” Sejin explodes, whipping around to face Ahyeon. “That’s garbage, Ahyeon, why the hell didn’t you guys fight this? Why didn’t you try and at least get those kids charged with breaking and entering? Why?! This is so fucked up, dude, you’re really just going to let this-!”

“Lee Sejin,” and Sejin freezes because he’s never heard Ahyeon that frigid. “Sit down and shut up.”

Sejin sits down and shuts up. His mouth gapes uselessly for a moment but Ahyeon isn’t even looking at him, all his attention is focused on Moondae and Sejin immediately feels like an asshole.

“Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon says gently and he pulls Moondae’s head to rest against his shoulder and chest. “It’s okay, we aren’t mad. Sejin-ah is just worried, you know how passionate he gets, he just wants you to be safe.”

Moondae doesn’t say anything and just nods against Ahyeon’s chest, he’s shaking minutely and he can see his hands trembling where he’s gripping tight onto Ahyeon’s shirt. Oh, Sejin might just kill himself.

“Go ahead and wash up, I’ll order breakfast and we can all sit and talk after cooling down, hm?” Ahyeon rubs comforting circles onto Moondae’s back and only moves when Moondae pulls away.

He moves fast, trying to hide his face as he practically runs to the guest room but Sejin sees the tears anyway, falling from bright amber eyes, with a wobbling lower lip and red nose. He’s distantly aware then that he made the kid cry. He yelled and accused and made a spectacle of himself in Ahyeon’s home, mere hours after Moondae went through something extremely traumatic. He reacted in fear and his fear manifested as anger and he stayed angry because it was the easiest emotion to accept instead of horror and sorrow and worry.

“Ahyeon,” Sejin says, small and lost in the ensuing quiet. “Did I do that?”

Ahyeon is silent and cold.

“Did I make Moondae cry?”

Ahyeon thaws then and only sighs and lays a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Sejin-ah,” he starts gently and he’s empty of accusation or blame and that makes Sejin feel even lower. “It’s not your fault. It just hasn’t been an easy night for him. Don’t mention him crying, don’t react in anger again even when you really want to, even if it makes sense and do not yell, okay?”

“Okay,” Sejin chokes out, covering his eyes and overcome. “Okay.”

Moondae comes back into the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his shoulders. He has one of the hoodies Sejin had given him and it feels like forgiveness even when Sejin doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t look at him but deigns to sit next to him at the dining table, bumping Sejin’s shoulder with his when the silence goes on. Sejin blinks hard, trying not to cry, and bumps back before wrapping an arm around the kid.

He feels smaller today, like he’s all bones and meager flesh, like he could live safely inside of Sejin’s arms and never be hurt again. It doesn’t help when Moondae leans against his collarbone and his head fits perfectly in the hollow of his neck and shoulder, like he still finds Sejin safe enough to seek comfort in even when he made an ass of himself.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Sejin says voice hoarse and low. “You alright?”

“I’m alright,” Moondae replies quietly. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Sejin says immediately, making it a point to look Moondae in the eyes. “My friend just went through something terrible and I can’t do anything to help them or make them feel better. I was also an asshole.”

Moondae just shakes his head, a stubborn set to his mouth.

“No, you weren’t,” he insists, looking away. “And I’m fine now.”

“I was,” Sejin replies with quiet conviction. “But you know it’s okay if you aren’t, right? It’s okay to be mad at me, at the cops, at the people who did this to you, at this entire fucked up situation. I put my foot in my mouth earlier and said something without thinking and it made it sound like I was blaming you and Ahyeon for something completely out of your control.”

Moondae gives a shuddering sigh and Sejin doesn’t want to look at him, he knows if he sees those tears again he’s going to break right in two. He can’t handle seeing his kid in tears and in pain when he can’t do a fucking thing about it.

“I’m sorry, Moondae-yah.” Sejin says solemnly, looking at the child in his arms.

“Stop it,” Moondae replies angrily, swiping at his eyes and it doesn’t sound like he’s talking to Sejin. “Just, just stop. Stop it.”

“Moondae,” Sejin says, holding his wrist when he starts to be too rough. “Come on, Moondae.”

“No, I just want it to stop, it’s so stupid,” Sejin has heard Moondae annoyed and irritated, he’s seen him embarrassed and sarcastic, but this is new – it’s a raw sort of anger, a self-scolding fury that sounds ashamed and stricken. “Why do I keep crying? It’s so useless, nothing happened. Nothing happened.”

It sounds like he hates himself.

“Something happened, Moondae-yah,” Sejin insists, pulling his arm away to grip him by the shoulders. “And it was violating and scary and even if you weren’t hurt physically, that doesn’t change that you were hurt anyway. Kiddo, it’s okay to cry. It’s normal to cry, hell, I cried yesterday. Our entire group cried yesterday after performing. Are we stupid? Was it all useless?”

“No, no, that’s different,” Moondae turns away so he’s not looking at him and Sejin can see the avoidance a mile away. “That’s completely different.”

“Yes,” Sejin concedes. “It is different, we were all just overwhelmed and cried. You went through something most people consider a nightmare, you are more than allowed to cry. Our emotions don’t need reasons to exist, it just is, kid. So cry whenever you want, whenever you feel like it, especially if you don’t feel like it.”

“These things have a way of balancing out and sneaking up on you until you do it,” and Sejin gives into the urge and pulls Moondae into a tight, all encompassing hug. “So just, just do it Park Moondae. I’ll be here.”

If Ahyeon conveniently comes back from a local cafe with breakfast just as Moondae gathers himself again, calming down and holding cold spoons to his eyes, Sejin won’t mention his too impeccable timing. He just smiles back when Ahyeon gives him a bright grin and a cup of coffee.

Chapter Text

Moondae expects living with Ahyeon to be awkward, especially after he made a fool of himself with his dramatics and histrionics. He can barely face him in the following days after everything went down; the first day had been particularly bad, his face puffy and red from the stupid amount of useless crying he did the night before and then stupidly crying again just because Lee Sejin was being nice to him. It was a level of pathetic that Moondae is glad only Ahyeon has witnessed for longer than an afternoon because anyone else would use this against him. Ahyeon, however, is far too kind and far too giving.

He’s letting Moondae live with him for god’s sake. He wasn’t even accepting rent or utilities or groceries; forget being nice, he was practically a saint. (Though Moondae does have a plan to remedy this refusal of funds and already started gathering his paycheck in cash so he can slip a lump sum into Ahyeon’s pocket when he wasn’t looking. Genius, really.)

Moondae expects questions and demands from both Ahyeon and Sejin, especially that first day. But the day passes quietly with a late lunch, early dinner and movies playing quietly for the rest of the afternoon. When he and Ahyeon finally manage to convince Sejin to go home, he anticipates the third degree to finally start. He practices his story over and over again that night before getting up and leaving the bedroom Ahyeon had so generously lent him feeling like he was walking to the gallows.

Ahyeon, however, just greets him with a brunch spread so vast Moondae feels satiated just looking at it.

“Ah! Good morning, Moondae-yah,” Ahyeon greets sweetly and he’s pouring tea into both cups gesturing for him to sit. “Come, come, let’s eat.”

Moondae, like always, is a little too dazzled by Ahyeon still managing to look perfect at 7am in pajamas that look like they could designer and worth more than Moondae’s entire life and sits down across from his friend. He watches blank and confused when Ahyeon babbles, excitedly running through everything he ordered from his favorite cafe. He’s in the middle of cutting a beautiful croque madame in half, orange yolk breaking open like it was a food commercial, before Moondae has shaken the stars from his eyes.

“Um,” he starts, almost flinching when Ahyeon looks at him with full attention, putting his knife and fork down to regard him with a warm smile. “I should explain.”

“Ah, no, no,” Ahyeon shakes his head with that same smile. “Let’s eat first, Moondae-yah. And then, and only if you want to, you can tell me whatever you want, okay?”

Moondae is served like he’s a little prince and Ahyeon is his attendant and by the time breakfast is over, he’s so full he has to lay down before he genuinely throws up. Ahyeon frets over him with a cold towel on his forehead and gently cups his face when Moondae groans and rolls over to bury his face in the couch cushions. He really should have had more self-control but when Ahyeon was that excited what could he do but just accept whatever was given to him?

“I’m so sorry,” Ahyeon pats him soothingly on the back. “I should have known you couldn’t have eaten that much, I’m so sorry!”

“No no,” Moondae opens one eye to peek up at Ahyeon. “It was really good and Ahyeon-hyung spent so much money on it.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ahyeon insists, running firm circles on his lower back. “Moondae is used to eating smaller portions so I should have started slower.”

Moondae pauses and rolls back over to look up at Ahyeon with a questioning look. He does eat smaller portions, that was true, but how did Ahyeon know that?

“What is it?” Ahyeon says in reply to the look. “Does your stomach hurt a lot?”

“Hm, no, it’s okay. I should get up and walk around, that’ll help more I think.” Moondae replies instead, feeling both too awkward and shy to ask the question.

He squirms around with a huff and Ahyeon helps him up with both hands. He’s feeling a little like a delicate princess but he can’t say anything when Ahyeon has been so nice to him so he just agrees when Ahyeon insists on joining him for a walk around the park around his apartment building. Moondae nods and tries not to feel like an intruder in a very nice home as he washes up and shuffles through his pathetic collection of clothes. The hoodies that Keunse had gifted him were unfortunate victims in the break in but he had still brought the pieces back to try and mend them.

He was an old hand at sewing now, having to stitch up his few pants and shirts whenever inevitable tears would show up in the cheap, thinning fabric. It was something he’d learned in his life as Gunwoo; after his parents passed and a brief bullying stint where people thought it was funny to make fun of him for having both dead parents and a torn up uniform, he had made it a point to learn so he could at least control one thing in his life. It was a good life skill to have anyway, like learning how to budget a meager paycheck month after month or cooking.

He gently lays out the pieces of his gifts and sets aside his sewing kit to tackle later. This particular hoodie had been his favorite to wear at work, it was thick enough to keep him warm and dark enough to hide all the various food stains that would inevitably end up on his person after hours of serving. The new hoodie Keunse had brought along, bright yellow and just as big and cozy, was a little too stain-susceptible to wear at work but he would definitely wear to sleep tonight.

He layers two t-shirts and a long sleeve shirt over them before slipping on his denim jacket. He was considering saving up for a puffer, especially with the recent cold snap, but after what happened, he had to focus his finances elsewhere. He’s out first, still feeling too full as he stands and waits for Ahyeon to finish getting ready. He takes the time to text back his friends, Wongil in particular had been particularly mopey because he hadn’t been able to hang out with Moondae alone for a while.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Ahyeon cheerfully calls out from his open door. “Moondae-yah, come here and try this on, please!”

“Hyung?” Moondae replies, confused but walking into the room anyway.

“I bought this jacket last week but it’s a little too small for me,” Ahyeon says, holding out a long black puffer and it does look like it’s a little too small at the shoulders. “Can you try it on for me?”

He looks so earnest and excited that it would feel like Moondae shot a baby animal if he said no so he awkwardly shrugs off his jacket and lets Ahyeon help him into the puffer. He feels like a child when Ahyeon gets on his knee to zip him up from the bottom all the way over his chin. It’s a little too big, sleeves hanging close to his finger tips and falling a little too near the floor but it’s so soft and warm that Moondae could absolutely use it as a sleeping bag and be comfortable the entire night.

“Oh my goodness,” Ahyeon coos and pulls the hood up so it encapsulates him entirely; he probably looks like a giant kimbap roll. “You look adorable.”

“Um, thank you?” Moondae says, muffled by the warm fabric. “Do you, should I, can I take it off now or…?”

“What? No, keep it on please! It’s so cold out,” Ahyeon fusses some more making sure the jacket is covering his face before shrugging on a jacket that looks similar but ended at the waist. “Do you need gloves? A hat?”

“I’m fine,” Moondae can barely see past the hood and tries to pull it back. “Um, okay but will you be able to return it if I wear it outside?”

“What are you talking about, silly?” Ahyeon says fondly, ruining all of Moondae’s hard work just to easily slide the hood back over his head. “It looks great on you, it’s yours now.”

Moondae gets two stuttering words out before Ahyeon is dragging him out of the apartment by the hand. One elevator ride later, they’re outside on a walking path dodging giggling, running children and their frantic parents three steps behind. Ahyeon looks like a super model as he points out all the little shops and restaurants around his area and Moondae looks and feels a penguin as he ambles and waddles along beside him. It is freezing though and Moondae is thankful for his forced upon coat when his breath billows out cloudy and soft.

He finally gets the distinct impression that Ahyeon is trying to spoil him out of some misguided pity when he, apropos of nothing, buys Moondae a piping cup of hot chocolate. Oh God, he was going to have to confront his friend who has done nothing but help him because of his dumb pride, wasn’t he?

It continues and only gets worse when Ahyeon hands him a t-money card and insists that was his old one when he moved back to Korea and that Moondae would get far more use out of it since he can’t navigate the Seoul subway system. Moondae could believe that if it wasn’t topped up with more money than a normal commuter would ever allow. The feeding and clothes giving and general coddling continues for another few days before Moondae can’t help himself and says something.

“Hyung,” he starts, awkward as he shuffles the pasta Ahyeon had ordered that night for dinner around on his plate. “I’m okay, you know. I have been taking care of myself this entire time and you don’t need to do this out of pity. I can handle it.”

“Pity?” Ahyeon drops his fork on his plate, silence descends into the room and Moondae wishes he never opened his mouth. “Is that what you think this is?”

He doesn’t sound angry, he doesn’t even sound annoyed, he sounds sad and that’s what makes it worse.

“Ahyeon-hyung,” Moondae says quietly, ducking his head. “I know it looked bad but really, I was fine. I was making enough money for rent and utilities and groceries and everything.”

“Moondae,” Ahyeon breathes out, shaky and sighing. “I know-.”

“And this is just an unexpected setback, I can find another place so you don’t feel like you have to do this. My landlord owns another building that has similar pricing so, please, just trust me. Thank you so much for your kindness this past week and your generosity but I can do it. I can do it myself.”

“But you don’t have to!” Moondae has never heard Ahyeon yell before and it’s scarier than he expected, loud, insistent, rough. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Moondae-yah. I’m here and I want to help you, not because of pity but because yes, you are mature, you are capable but you’re just a kid. Moondae-yah, you’re just a kid.”

“I’m not,” Moondae tries to keep the scoff out of his voice. “I haven’t been a kid for a long time, hyung, I can do this. Please trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Ahyeon insists., reaching out and holding Moondae by the wrists. “But why are you trying to grow up so fast? Moondae-yah, you don’t just have to rely on you anymore. I’m here, Lee Sejin is here, all your friends are here and we want to help you because we love you. We love you and want the best for you.”

“But-but,” Moondae feels askew when faced with such stark honesty. “But I need to do this alone, hyung, pl-, please.”

“Why do you have to do this alone?” and Ahyeon sounds so desperate and sad, hands gripping tighter and tighter around his wrists that it almost hurts. “Why, Moondae-yah?”

“Because I’ve always had to do it alone! And I need to be okay being alone! Because when this all ends, I’m going to be alone again. I-I don’t think I’m going to make it, hyung. I don’t think I’ll be able to debut with all of you and it’ll be over and I won’t see you again.”

Moondae feels his own heavy breathing ringing in his ears. It’s the truth he’s been trying to run from, he’s gotten too attached to these people, he’s gotten too attached to this little life and he’s become complacent. He’s forgotten that at the end of this road is a noose around his neck and with his performance so far, there’s a very real chance he won’t debut and he won’t-, he won’t-. He doesn’t even want to say it.

Saying it even in the confines of his own head feels too real but now it’s out there. Moondae, in the quiet pockets of time he spent alone in his apartment, surrounded by the tangible proof of love and affection from the people in this life he stole, had to slowly come to grips that he might die. He would fail at what he’s been tasked to do because he got too caught up in having people in his life again and now he’s going to die because of it.

And the most pathetic part is that he’s satisfied because he was able to exist in someone else’s life again, however brief it had been. He existed as a whole being that people thought about, remembered, considered and talked about. Moondae is real again, Gunwoo is real again. Gunwoo isn’t walking through his half-life, half-alive, half-tethered to the earth, still stuck in the tragic loss of his family and his normality and his peace.

He had people. And he was going to lose them all over again.

But Ahyeon doesn’t know that, couldn’t even fathom the fucked up situation Moondae found himself in. All he hears is the childish fears and worries of a boy who might lose his friends to the limelight. He doesn’t know that Moondae has already prepared for the worst and can’t bear to put these people through loss like that. He just wanted to be a cursory memory, something that they would remember years down the line and feel sad about but move on. He should break away, he should move on and make this parting a bitter one. But at the end of the day, Moondae has known he was always more selfish than he let on, because he just lets Ahyeon comfort him, lets him whisper reassurances that he doesn’t know has an expiration date.

Chapter Text

Moondae never thought he’d be glad to sit through an Idol Inc. episode with his friends but after the harrowing week he’s had, he’s just glad that life is slowly returning back to something closer to normal. After Ahyeon had comforted him saying that Moondae would never lose him or any of their friends even if they weren’t able to debut together, he came to a quiet realization. No matter how surrounded he was in this life, the fact that no one knew about the system or the vice grip it had around his life meant that he would always be alone.

So he resolved to keep his issues to himself from now on, it was easier this way, it was better for everyone. Moondae couldn’t exactly explain that his emotions were amped because of the looming threat of death without sounding like a nutcase and he really needed to stop causing trouble for his friends. Logically, he knows they’re only a year or so younger than him but in terms of life experience, they were still too young to have to deal with their own stressful lives on top of Moondae’s everything.

He was sick of crying anyway, it was like this body was a leaky faucet or something. Tears came at a drop of a hat as Moondae and he couldn’t do much to stop it, thankfully it had only been around Ahyeon and Lee Sejin but that was already two too many people. He watches Ahyeon flutter around the kitchen, an excited little smile on his face, and pats himself on the back for agreeing to another viewing party. He may have preferred to watch it on his own but clearly Ahyeon enjoyed hosting.

His phone dings with several messages and he hides a fond smile as he catches up.

OCTOBERZ BOIS 👻  

Iljoon
ahyeon-ahhhh! i'll be there in uhhhh
like five minutes…..?

Wongil
smh, showing up late iljoon-hyung?

Heeseung
wongil, aren’t we late tho????「(°ヘ°)

Iljoon
@Wongil wow.

Wongil
why don’t you ever let me lie.

Heeseung
oops, my bad lololol um ahyeon-hyung, me n wongil will be there in fifteen minutes……………😬
we’ll start running lmaoooo

Keunse
LOL guys the episode doesn’t even start for an hour
take your time~
we’re still waiting for raebin and eugene too!

Wongil
ok, yayyyy.

Wongil
@Moondae where are you.

Heeseung
yeah, where’s the BABY

Moondae
🔫
I am already here.
On time.
Exactly when Ahyeon-hyung requested we be here.

Same Age Fwends

Wongil
@Moondae OK SO SOMEONE TOOK THEIR BITCH PILLS THIS MORNING???

Moondae
I took your usual dose.

Heeseung
@Moondae fjasdkasnandad PARK MOONDAE!!!!
WHO IS THIS WHERE DID YOU PUT MY BABY!!!!

Moondae
I’m literally right here.

Wongil
is it weird that i'm furious and so proud at the same time? 🩷
i taught you well, my boy.

Moondae
🩷
Thank you for your careful tutelage.

Your Raebin-hyung <3 (& EUGENE :3)

Raebin
@Moondae, Cha Eugene and I will be there shortly!
Thank you for providing directions, they were incredibly helpful.

Eugene
mooooooondae, are you sure i shouldn’t have brought the only passable tacos in the entirety of seoul? it will llllliiiiiittttteeeerrrraaaalllllyyyyy change your life :D

Raebin
Stop insisting, he has said over and over again that we did not need to bring anything! You’re bothering him.

Eugene
1) why are u texting me we’re sitting on the train together 😭😭😭😭😭
2) you brought a cake tho!!!!! i want to join in on the potluck!!!!!

Raebin
We’re on a train! It’s not polite to hold conversations in this space!

Eugene
@Moondae, lil dude is this like another cultural thing bc aren’t subways are supposed to be [liminal spaces where weirdos roam]???? i haven’t seen a single subway rat holding a pizza yet :////

Moondae
Of course, @Raebin -hyung. Let me know if you are unable to enter the building. Thank you for bringing dessert, you didn’t have to.
@Eugene -hyung, it’s okay. Ahyeon-hyung bought too much food, it would have gone unappreciated within this entire spread. Maybe next time?

Also you are thinking of the US again, particularly the New York City subways of which the pizza rat is a minor celebrity.

Eugene
LMAO minor celebrity 😂😂
holy CRAP, is this where ahyeon-hyung lives????
i figured he was like a model on the side or something but this almost too rich for my blood 🚬🗿
ssskskddkssssl
lol sorry that was your raebin-hyung trying to take my phone privileges away lololol
he failed btw LMAO

Moondae picks his head up from where it was resting on Keunse’s shoulder sluggishly when the doorbell rings before it clicks in his head and he practically bolts to the door to get there before Ahyeon. Ahyeon was always a consummate host but Moondae was convinced that he was going to end up passing out if he kept trying to do everything today.

“I got it,” Moondae calls out to stop Ahyeon from doing the most and pulls the door open. “Hello, long time no see.”

“Moo~ndae!” Eugene greets excitedly, practically bouncing in place as he throws his arms around Moondae and shuffles his close. “Hi!”

“Oh my-, gentle! Gentle!” and Raebin sounds like he’s talking to an overexcited dog. “Hello, Moondae-yah, I hope you’ve been well.”

Moondae smiles back a greeting, reaching out to take the cake box from Raebin’s hands even as Eugene clings onto him like a particularly stubborn barnacle.

“Hey kids!” Keunse calls from the living room, craning his neck around to peer at the two. “Welcome to the Seon household, me and the little guy have been lazing on the couch if you want to join us.”

“Hello, you two,” Ahyeon greets with a wide smile and gasps when he sees the cake in Moondae’s arms. “Oh Raebin-ah, you didn’t have to! Thank you.”

Raebin pulls Eugene off with deceptive strength, making sure that his grip was loose enough around Moondae that he wasn’t getting pulled along as well, and they both bow low and greet Ahyeon politely.

“Thank you for having us over!” they say together, Eugene’s voice carrying over Raebin’s in excitement. “Thank you for your invitation.”

Keunse manages to get them settled just as Moondae manages to convince Ahyeon to let him help and it doesn’t take long for the rest of their party to filter in. With Lee Sejin’s overly enthusiastic welcomes, it’s almost like he’s showing them around his own house. In his defense, he had been coming over a lot the past week, the three of them had basically been living together.

“...And that’s the office – yes, Ahyeon-ahyeon has two beds, two baths AND an office in this flat. Crazy, right?”

“Is he trying to sell your apartment?” Moondae grumbles to himself as he tries to find places for the plates, utensils and napkins in the crowd of food on the living room table. “I can stop him if you want me to Ahyeon-hyung.”

Ahyeon laughs and smooths his hair back with a palm.

“No no, it’s okay,” Ahyeon replies, fixing his fringe with a fond smile. “Let him have his fun.”

“And this,” Keunse starts dramatically in front of Moondae’s closed bedroom door. “Is a place no man is allowed to enter under the threat of death.”

“Woaaaah,” Eugene gasps, fully bought into Keunse’s dramatics and hopping in place. “What’s in there? State secrets?”

Keunse stops, taken aback before he’s laughing heartily. Really, only Eugene had needed the tour but Raebin tagged along to keep him in check which lead to Heeseung wanting to play too which required Wongil to come along as his minder and then Keunse forced Iljoon to stop laying down and hang out too. Moondae and Ahyeon were safe by virtue of actually trying to get everything in place before the episode started.

“You’re a funny kid,” Keunse chuckles when the laughing finally dies down. “Nah, it’s just Moondae’s room.”

“No way! That’s even better!” Eugene crows. “Moo~ndae! Can I go in your room? If not, totally cool I don’t-. [Wait. Moondae’s room?]”

“Oh my god,” Iljoon whispers. “It finally happened, the final step of the Moondae’s mom agenda.”

“Hyung, shhh! They don’t know about that,” Keunse hisses out of the corner of his mouth. “Uhhh, I mean. Um.”

Moondae rolls his eyes. As usual, Lee Sejin had gotten too caught up in the atmosphere and said something that should have required more thought before saying out loud. He knew he was going to have to tell the rest of his friends what happened eventually but he would have rather done so on his own (which, honestly, would have been never because he could have and would have kept justifying the delay until it was far enough away that the shock wouldn’t linger).

Just because he finally has a handle on his emotions about that particular day, he’s not looking to poke the metaphorical bear and end up crying in front of people he wants to respect him as an adult and not as a weepy child.

“Ah, yes. Ahyeon-hyung generously offered to let me stay with him due to an…incident at my apartment,” Moondae says simply like the blood wasn’t pounding in his ears. “Everything is still being worked out so Ahyeon-hyung is letting me live here.”

“Gotcha, is everything alright otherwise, kiddo?” Iljoon asks concerned, immediately seeing the change in mood among him, Keunse and Ahyeon. “Anything I can help with?”

“Thank you,” Moondae replies, catching his eyes and smiling gratefully. “I appreciate it but everything is fine now.”

And he’s telling the truth, it should be fine now.

Moondae’s Protection Detail 🕴️

Moondae’s Mom
Hi everyone! I know what Moondae said is very vague and alarming but please don’t ask any questions. If he wants to talk about it, he will – just give him space, please.

Moondae’s Dad
^^^ that, no one better make moondaemoondae feel uncomfortable today 🙂 (this is absolutely a threat btw)

Moondae’s Best Friend
ok, just let me know if i have to take care of anybody. 🔪

Moondae’s Best Friend (ACTUALLY)
always violence as a first step with this one………😨

(Stop Calling Me) Moondae’s Grandpa
okay, no details needed. just keep me in the loop if you two or the kid need anything
i mean it, anything at all just say the word
we're here

Chapter Text

“Oh my god,” Nari sobs, covering her mouth and dabbing at her eyes as she watches the episode. “Oh my baby, my little star, my little sweet pea.”

She coos at the TV like the Moondae on the screen wasn’t the same Moondae slowly dying of humiliation in front of her, the staff, and the entire restaurant’s occupants. Moondae tries to ignore the scene she’s making and wipes down a spill on one of his tables and replaces cutlery for another. He refills tea and water without having been asked and generally tries to keep himself busy.

“He’s an angel,” Nari continues, heedless of Moondae zooming around like he had wheels attached to his feet to try and run from her dramatics. “A little baby angel. Tiny, itty bitty, my baby puppy.”

“Noona, please,” one of their part-timers calls out. “You’re going to kill him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she hiccups, wiping at her eyes before bawling again. “Look at him, he’s so friggin’ cute, I’m going to squish his head in between my hands!”

She gestures at the TV where the most recent episode of Idol Inc. is playing. On the screen is a montage of Moondae comforting Eugene with chocolate and hugs. Moondae grits his teeth and curses the production company and their next three generations for filming everything. He thought he was being discreet but clearly, they had cameras on cameras on cameras because he was absolutely caught in 4k having emotions. Worse, the segment was going on for way too long.

Eugene was popular, that much was obvious, so much so that anyone in his proximity had their screentime go up exponentially. And with Moondae providing comfort in a very marketable, TV-friendly way, it was like he was offering up good ratings on a silver platter – the production team would be stupid not to take advantage of it. Still, it didn’t mean that Moondae wasn’t actively dying. It was bad enough that Nari and Kyungri would replay Idol Inc. episodes most nights but the live-watching with the real time reacting was awful.

“Bad case of cuteness aggression,” the same part-timer mutters to Moondae as he passes by to reup his table’s side dishes. “Watch out for that one, she’s going to rip you apart at this rate.”

“Noted,” Moondae replies deadpan and ducks when the older man ruffles his hair. “Ow.”

Still, somehow this is marginally better than the most recent episode viewing at Ahyeon’s apartment. There were two hiccups during that particular episode viewing, obviously no one knew how to broach Team Husky’s drama with Eugene in the room but he seemed to bounce back easily and broke up the awkward air with a put upon laugh but genuine determination. It was nice to see that it wouldn’t keep him down and that he worked hard to rise above it. Eugene looked great in this most recent episode too and it only made Moondae more keenly aware that his storyline was garbage compared to everyone else.

Eugene had the perfect arc, from confident first place – unshakable and talent bright enough to put spotlights to shame – to downtrodden and falling beneath the weight of his team’s drama. And yet, he managed to fight despite it and showed his desperation, his desire to be on stage and perform. It only highlighted how much he wanted to be there, it told everyone that Cha Eugene wasn’t on Idol Inc. just as a fun character but the contender everyone aspired to be and beat.

And what was Moondae?

A fucking clown first and foremost, apparently, and then he was just emotional support. The longer he watched, the worse he felt. But it’s nothing compared to the dead silence and palpable despair that permeated the room that night when it showed that Choi Wongil was first in sold stocks. No one could react in time and the scene passed into the rest of the list. Everyone knew it but no one wanted to say it – Wongil had very little chance to stay on Idol Inc. No matter the amount of statements the show put off that Moondae enthusiastically signed off on, going as far as to making sure his name was added like it was a personal note he wrote himself instead of the PR team, it seemed like the audience had made their decision and stuck with it.

Heeseung did his best to dispel the air and Wongil responded in kind, trying to put on a brave face like Eugene but he failed miserably. Moondae had felt his heart ache and when everyone could tell that Wongil didn’t want to talk about it any further, he just reached out and squeezed hard at the trembling hand in his. He had no words to say, nothing he could do in the face of facts but he could do this. He tried his best to ground Wongil for the rest of the night, letting the boy rest his forehead against Moondae’s shoulder and not letting Wongil pull away, putting their joined hands in his hoodie pocket when he could feel them grow clammy.

Moondae reaches into his apron pocket and checks his phone. He knows his hovering but he’s waiting on a reply from Wongil. It had been a quiet few days and no matter what he or Heeseung did, the other boy insisted he was fine and that they were just being dramatic. Moondae didn’t want to keep pushing and keep reminding Wongil of his circumstances, of where he will end up after trying so fucking hard, but his heart has gotten softer in his second life and he can’t help but want to solve everything so his friends never have to be sad again. He’s aware that he should be worrying about his own place in the competition but he’s been feeling worse and worse about his prospects and this has been keeping him distracted.

Nari jumps him when he least expects it and he almost flinches when she reaches out and grabs him in a hug tight enough to leave him breathless. She’s still crying a little, somehow so endeared that she had to stop the episode replay to blow her nose and cry into several rounds of tissues.

“Little muffin, little puffin, my baby bird, you’re so sweet to your friends,” she cries into his hair. “I’m not making anymore sense but oh my god.”

“Let him go, you lunatic,” Kyungri calls out from behind the counter, wiping down her area with a frown on her face. “You’re going to suffocate our little star.”

And just when he thought he had an ally in this.

“His fans are going to run us out of business if they know you hurt their idol,” Kyungri grins and then cackles when Moondae rolls his eyes, stuck in Nari’s weeping octopus hold. “Hah! You little shit, don’t give me an attitude. I’ll let her keep going if you insist on the sass.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Moondae says, monotone and practically swinging in Nari’s too strong hold. “Please get her off of me.”

“Hey! Hey, knock it off! Hey!” then Kyungri makes a sound like she’s scolding a dog and Nari lets go automatically, turning to throw a pout at her mom. “What? Not my fault you’re in your emotions.”

“Hardly my fault either! It’s Daedae-yah’s fault, who told him to be so cute?”

“I apologize for this too,” Moondae intones, straightening out his teddy bear apron. “I will do my best to cease this behavior at once.”

“Ma!” Nari shouts, appalled. “Look what you did, he’s back to being creepy-businessman levels of formal!”

Moondae is grateful for Nari and Kyungri and all they’ve given him, truly, but he’s also going to lose his mind before his shift is over.

It takes an hour for Moondae to convince Ahyeon to take public transportation instead of a taxi to the studio. Ahyeon had fretted, hemmed and hawed about the supposed safety of the subway, as if it weren’t a well established system and as if it wouldn’t be early morning rush hour and taxi prices would be astronomical, but eventually gave in. He did, however, insist on holding Moondae’s hand as they slipped through the crowd with the excuse that he didn’t want to get lost but Moondae felt a little like he was a child being lead through a busy mall by his harried parent.

He keeps that to himself though; Ahyeon was stressed enough already, checking and then double checking their station, their line and their departure before checking a third time despite Moondae already saying he’s taken the trip multiple times before. So yes, he holds Ahyeon’s hand. Just to stop the anxiety, that’s it. Moondae studiously pretends that he hadn’t seen a group of giggling girls pointing and cooing and taking pictures. He’ll give it four hours before it’s up and all over twitter.

“Oh woah,” Keunse says once Moondae finishes buttoning up his shirt. “Moondae-moondae, little buddy, did you grow?”

Moondae looks up at Keunse with blank eyes and looks down and then back up as if to emphasizes the difference between them with a single raised brow. Keunse laughs, pushing a rough hand against his fringe but lets him straighten out before estimating his height against his clavicle with a flat hand.

“Yeah, no, look!” Keunse waves his hand closer to the base of his neck. “You used to be like shoulder height and now you’re closer to my neck!”

“Easier to aim for the jugular,” Moondae murmurs, stepping into his uniform shoes and ducks away from Keunse when he tries to run his knuckles onto his scalp. “I mean, wow. So much height. Truly a world of a difference.”

“Okay, you sarcastic little shit. Come here, let me reduce your height if you don’t care about it!”

Moondae only hides behind Ryu Chungwoo because he’s close by and not because he’s the one person Keunse won’t try anything against.

“You okay, kid?” Chungwoo asks, looking amused as Moondae uses the width of his body to very conspicuously hide. “I think Lee Sejin is right though, you definitely look a little taller.”

Moondae perks up and looks up at Chungwoo with shining eyes.

“Really?” he asks, trying not to act like a kid preening when given praise.

“Really,” Chungwoo confirms, patting Moondae on the head. “Keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll tower over me soon.”

He’s teasing and exaggerating, obviously, but Moondae can’t help it when his shoulders go back a little and he stands up a little straighter. The thought that he could be taller than anyone was nice, Moondae was so disconcertingly small at times and he sometimes forgets that his limbs weren’t as long as they were as Gunwoo. He’s gotten mostly used to this body and generally regards it as his own most days, but there are times where he feels so distant from himself.

His good mood travels with him up until he has to turn his phone in and he’s smacked with an existential and temporal crisis of Gunwoo not existing but Gunwoo's work being extant that feels too big to parse while he’s trying to pretend like he was so interested in whatever convoluted plan production has for them now. It also doesn’t help that Wongil had been avoiding him since he came into the large studio. But, like everything in his life, he has too many problems on his plate and he has to put some aside to solve later.

When Wongil doesn’t meet his eyes for the third time, he figures that he’ll have to worry about it later when he can corner him in their favorite stairwell. For now, he has to take a stupid quiz and be interesting for the camera.

Chapter Text

Despite their immense, nearly cataclysmic levels of popularity, Gunwoo could probably confidently name less than five songs by VTIC. He knew their entire set list in the same way someone could tell that a song was in the current Top 100 but not know anything else, title or otherwise. His job wasn’t to listen to the music, after all; he had limited time, limited, obscured vision, and a certain amount of shots per member to focus on. Add to that the general raucous movement of too-excited crowds, the roving security looking for people like him who had snuck in their high powered cameras, and the grumbling discontent of the unfortunate people stuck behind his tall frame.

But their faces? He could pick those out of a crowd. Good photos of Chaeyul and Cheongryeo in particular, were lucrative enough to fund his rent for two months. It was a good enough deal that spending the time and money to secure tickets to every VITC event within commuting distance was a no-brainer. TICAs were some of Gunwoo’s best-paying clients and anything he couldn’t sell to popular fansite masters who were unable to get into concerts were funneled out to smaller fansite masters and sold to fancafes to use for fan merch.

But it was one thing to glimpse that familiar face through the distance a camera lens could span and another to see it in person. For one, Cheongryeo is taller than he expected - objectively, he knows that that was always the case, he’s the tallest in VTIC which was already made up of fairly tall individuals but it’s like he takes up even more room with sheer charisma and presence and Moondae, already caught off guard by that stupid personality quiz, is not prepared. He feels like he’s looking up at Lee Sejin, neck straining just to keep eye contact.

It takes a moment before he remembers to bow, low and respectful, the tips of his hair brushing against the top of the table. Knowledge from his previous life starts rushing in like a tidal wave and he’s suddenly the most aware he’s been of himself since the start of the show. Forget the drama-hungry, hate-watching, gossip-riding masses of Idol Inc. viewers, real fear came in the form of a mob of upset TICAs.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Cheongryeo says genially, like he isn’t about to ruin Moondae’s life entirely just by existing in the same space together. “I’ve enjoyed watching Idol Inc.”

The smile on his face is professional but warm, like he was actually just some approachable sunbae and not like he was in one of the world’s most popular kpop groups of all time. But Moondae didn’t know if it was just him but his eyes didn’t reflect the same mood, they were shrewd, almost cold as he looked down at Moondae.

“Ah, thank you for watching,” Moondae replies and his voice is smaller than he wanted it to be. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

They shake hands for a moment and Cheongryeo’s grip is strong, lingering and heavy. Moondae suddenly feels the years he has left to grow as he compares. The silence as they both sit down, Cheongyeo in a seat settled in front of him, is only a little awkward. They stare at each other for a beat before a smile comes onto his face, on the edge of indulgent.

“You really are mature for your age,” Cheongryeo remarks, tapping a stack of papers on his lap. “You’re as composed as they show on TV.”

“Oh, is that so?” Moondae says, trying to seem shy and nervous and not like he’s going to have a breakdown right here, right now. “I’m just, just surprised to see Cheongryeo-nim. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Hm,” Cheongryeo lets out a huffing little laugh and if it weren’t for the fact that he had been speaking formally, it would have sounded disbelieving. “You’re very impressive, Park Moondae-nim. That’s why, on behalf of my agency LeTi, I’m here to offer a casting call.”

Generally speaking, Moondae was expecting this. He remembered the uproar in his previous life as Gunwoo when one of the front runners of the show left abruptly when another agency, not as large and well-known as LeTi but up there, managed to poach him at this episode. 

“Your answers to the questionnaire shows that you could be a perfect fit with LeTi, your values, ways of thinking and planning, and reactions are most similar to my group as well. You don’t usually see this kind of insight at your age.”

And Moondae had to give credit where it was due, Cheongryeo’s expression melted into something that resembled restrained excitement like he was actually fascinated with his answers to a stupid quiz and not like this was probably the fifth time he’s had to repeat the same script over again.

“Thank you.” Moondae replies simply, bowing his head again.

Moondae lets the script roll over him like a blanket of white noise as he seriously considers the offer. He’s been feeling, well, not great about his prospects recently. He’s been seeing something like a downward trend in his placements, mostly because of the sheer amount of stocks being sold by his dedicated group of haters and detractors. It’s not like he has zero fans, he knows he’s at least in the top 10 members solely through association with even more popular and likeable cast members like Seon Ahyeon and Lee Sejin. That alone gives him enough of a chance to debut and survive.

It doesn’t stop a creeping dread from keeping him awake at night, the doubts, the worries, the what-ifs that tell him that he’s not going to make it. That he’ll have to watch as his friends debut and succeed while he fucked off somewhere else and quietly died. It’s a scary thought, scarier when he thinks about how he’ll have to essentially drop everything in this life and run away when D-1 finally hits, if just to spare his friends the trouble.

Call him arrogant but he knew that in some part, his passing would affect the people in his life. Even if they were just acquaintances, he knew the kind of impact losing someone could do to someone. And now that he’s slowly started accepting people he could consider friends, staying any longer in these people’s lives when he was constantly on the edge of losing it was just cruel on his part. He should leave.

He should accept this offer and never look back, make it look like a betrayal on his end. Cut it off cleanly and abruptly and become an unfortunate memory in someone else’s life. Because on the off chance that LeTi did debut him in time to beat his literal deadline, he would become a direct competitor to the final group anyway. Someone who didn’t want to chance failure with everyone else and jumped ship to whatever was most lucrative. And if LeTi held him off from debuting before his expiry date? Well, it's no longer his problem.

And yet.

Sentimentality was going to get Moondae killed because, god help him, he didn’t want to go. He could lie to himself and say that this was the better option, pointing to the effect of sunk cost fallacies and how he wasn’t really LeTi’s usual style but in the end, the truth was that Moondae didn’t want to let the people in his life go. Was that selfish of him? Was it cruel of him to do so despite knowing what could happen? Was it childish and immature and utterly irrational?

Yes, yes and yes - and yet.

“Well, what do you think, Park Moondae-nim?” Cheongryeo slides the offer across the table. “Can we expect to see you at LeTi?”

“Thank you very much,” Moondae replies, tone measured and respectful. “But I will have to decline your generous offer, Cheongryeo-nim.”

The put upon surprise is almost convincing and Moondae wonders when Cheongryeo, leader of the busiest kpop group on the planet, had time to learn acting to this extent. Maybe it just came with the territory of being an entertainer. Given the chance, Moondae hoped to get that good one day too.

“Hm, a shame,” Cheongreyo tuts, shaking his head with a wry smile. “I sincerely believe you would have been an asset to LeTi. Is there a reason why you’re declining so decisively?”

It feels like a trap but Moondae breathes out, half a sigh, half a breath to prepare to speak.

“I’ve seen everyone’s effort, from my castmates to the fans to the staff,” Moondae bites out that last part with as little bitterness as possible. “I’ve seen their love and support and their belief in me and I’d like to take it as far as I can. For them. I want to show them that their investment in me was worth it.”

“Admirable,” Cheongryeo praises, quicksilver amusement in his eyes. “There’s really nothing I can say to convince you, is there?”

Moondae opts to shake his head, looking down at the table before looking back up at eyes that seem to stare right through him - it’s disconcerting.

“Right, well, I understand and respect your choice,” he says finally, cutting the tension in half. “Let’s destroy the contract to be sure then.”

There’s a dramatic tearing of the contract in front of him before filming finally dwindles down. Moondae is trying to find the best exit out of this situation and away from Cheongryeo while still remaining as polite as he can when Cheongryeo calls out to him.

“Good job today,” he says, holding a bag. “Forgive me, I must seem like an old man with this gift but here’s some red ginseng. I know supplements like this may not be something trainees your age reach for but I hope you use it well.”

“Not at all, I don’t think you’re an old man at all, Cheongryeo-nim. Thank you very much.” Moondae reaches for the bag and feels a little like a dog getting teased with a treat when Cheongryeo pulls it out of reach for a moment.

“Oh yes, have you listened to our new EP yet, Park Moondae-nim? What track was your favorite?”

There’s an air of expectation, something artificial and acted out in his expression still despite the cameras being off. Moondae tries not to let out a long string of curses in his head lest it show in his expression and tries to smile like he means it while absolutely running through the archives of his brain for a single answer.

“See the Stars,” he answers, aiming for cheerful and falling somewhere around awkward. “Kim Raebin-hyung and I were recently discussing how the cadence and story of the lyrics matched very well with the building arrangement in the chorus and falling in the final verse.”

“How flattering,” Cheongryeo laughs, handing over the originally proffered back of red ginseng. “I wrote those lyrics, you know? Are you just saying that to save my pride?”

“Absolutely not,” Moondae insists with flat humor and the truth; he really was just discussing the musical logistics with Raebin, he didn’t even know Cheongryeo touched any part of that song. “Thank you very much.”

Moondae manages to escape with his life and reputation intact, even if Cheongryeo threw out another offer to join LeTi - he was probably being facetious or was just sincere and was cursed to look suspicious instead. Either way, Moondae made his bed, it was time to lay in it.

The studio is abuzz when he finally gets back from his own taping, everyone jumps him when he gets in and ooh’s and ahh’s over hearing that he got The Cheongryeo offering him a place at LeTi. There are a few people who are genuinely shocked that he passed on such a lucrative offer from a top agency but when there’s even more who rejected good offers from topline agencies, it becomes more of a surprise when someone says that they did take the offer.

Moondae had been expecting a few people to drop out at this point; with thirty contestants left and the competition grinding everyone to a fine point to draw out as much drama as possible, it would have been a surprise if no one left just to escape the scrutiny and stress. Moondae had been expecting a fair few of them to be gone, had expected them to say drop out at this episode and capitalize on what publicity they did have without competing to the end, had even placed quiet bets in his head for some, he had been expecting people to take offers left and right.

Moondae didn’t expect Wongil to leave.

The rest of the filming goes in a bit of a haze, he’s barely paying enough attention to show good reactions to the top 20 getting called and doesn’t even get jolted or down when his ranking has taken another dip from 9th place to 10th even when his rank, before stock selling, was 6th. It should matter, it should get him to wake up and scream and cry and rage at the world for being unfair but all Moondae can think about is how Wongil is leaving, Wongil is leaving and had avoided him before doing so, Wongil is leaving and hadn’t brought up any doubts or shared his trouble or feelings with him or any of their friends. Wongil is leaving and he didn’t even say goodbye.

Moondae feels a stinging sorrow well up in him when Iljoon-hyung doesn’t make the cut off, sitting at 21st place instead of the top 20 with the rest of them. It hurts to know that he has to say goodbye to two people now and only one of them is around. Iljoon is shaking as he wraps his arms around Moondae a final time, brave face on and smiling as he pats Moondae on the back and on the head. He should be the one comforting him, his friend was just edged out of the competition by one place and yet Iljoon is the one soothing him, warm words of pride and happiness for his sake.

“It’s okay, kid,” Iljoon says, a wet laugh full of tears but still smiling through the pain and regret. “It’s okay, it’ll all work out.”

It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself too.

“Hyung, I look forward to your debut,” Moondae murmurs against his shoulder, staying close for a second longer before pulling away. “You’re going to be great.”

“Sheesh, you flatterer,” Iljoon teases, swiping the tears off his face before ruffling Moondae’s hair. “Maybe soon, maybe not yet, but either way I’ll be there soon Moondae-yah. Just wait for me, okay?”

“Yes,” and Moondae believes it, he knows he can, he’s seen his talent, his drive and his work ethic - his unwavering faith in Moondae, too, is something that he can’t brush aside as platitudes, not when Iljoon looks like he believes every word. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Good, good,” Iljoon says, sniffling and cackling when he sights Lee Sejin barreling across the studio to run up to him; he turns to Moondae once more before leaving to meet him halfway. “Hey, kid - I know I said that you don’t always need to get involved for things to resolve themselves but I also think some people need a smack to the head to get the point across. Try not to hit Wongil too hard for us, alright?”

Iljoon is down the stairs and in Lee Sejin’s arms in the next moment, laughing and crying when Sejin wails and swings him around like he’s a child who has to leave their stuffed animal behind. It’s distracting enough that it lets Moondae sneak away from the rest of their well meaning group, both Ahyeon and Heeseung had nearly worn a hole into the ground from their anxious shuffling at Moondae being so despondent at the news of Wongil’s departure. Now though, he can freely go and track his wayward friend down - he got permission, after all.

Moondae catches Wongil, bag packed and ready to leave, right as he’s about to pass by their usual stairwell. There’s a screech as Moondae basically accosts him and smuggles him past the screechy metal door in the blissfully camera-less cage of concrete stairs. Wongil struggles for exactly three seconds before he goes still and stark white, like he’s afraid of Moondae of all people.

He had once watched Wongil tear an angry middle-aged man into pieces with his words alone when he nearly bowled over Heeseung and tried to extort him for the incident, without an ounce of apprehension or nervousness. But now, faced with Moondae’s (probably) too earnest face, it was like he was walking himself to the gallows.

“Moondae!” Wongil exclaims like he never expected Moondae, snoop extraordinaire, to track him down - who did he think he was? “What are you-, have you even finished filmin-, what are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Moondae throws back, upset as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re really leaving. Just like that.”

“Well, I was going to text,” Wongil says unconvincingly and avoiding Moondae’s gaze, he fiddles with the straps of his duffel bag, looking so unlike himself that it almost feels like Moondae is bullying him. “I just, you know, I had to. It was a good offer.”

“I know,” Moondae replies evenly, uncrossing his arms so Wongil knows that this isn’t the confrontation he’s expecting. “And everyone is excited for you, we know you didn’t like your previous agency.”

Wongil’s hiked up shoulders loosen and lower at that and there’s a wistful, almost sad smile on his lips when he hears it.

“Yeah?” he asks, uncharacteristically soft and unsure.

“Yes,” Moondae insists, hands fully loose at his sides now. “Of course. We just-. I just, selfishly, I just wanted you to stay.”

Moondae is expecting it when Wongil’s face crumples, tears falling from his eyes in rivers and rivers; he hides his face in his hands and Moondae is telling himself that he has to move, has to reach out and finally be the first to reach out and comfort someone instead of waiting to be allowed in. He finally has the chance to be a good, supportive friend and he’s fucking it up by hesitating. He lets Wongil cry to himself for a moment, frozen by indecision.

“I wanted to stay,” Wongil sobs out, voice echoing in the pocket of his hands. “I wanted to stay, Moondae-yah. But, but, but I can’t do it anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Moondae feels something inside of his chest start to boil over.

“It shouldn’t matter but it does, it does so much and no matter what I do or what I say, everyone hates me. They despise me,” Wongil takes a hiccuping breath and looks Moondae in the eyes, youthful devastation and broken down by the world of entertainment. “I want to do this so bad, Moondae, but the longer I’m here the worse I feel.”

“I’m just, I don’t-, being here, I’m not in a good place. The thoughts I have when I’m here scare me, I can’t do this anymore, like I’m not enough-!”

He thought he knew fear, tasted it when he saw the system window ruling over his second life, thought he overreacted to it when Moondae’s school bullies broke into his apartment and ruined his little home, but nothing compares to this. To hear someone so bright, so full of talent, enthusiasm, and charisma reduced to a shaking, fearful shadow. It’s terrifying, it’s horrific, it’s enough to get Moondae to move.

He holds Wongil in his arms as they sink to the bottom step of the stair, rocking him back and forth like he can somehow put this burning, fallen star back together with his bare hands. He’s babbling nonsense, things he’s never said before, things he’s only ever heard his mother say to him when he was feeling low about himself about schoolwork, his lack of friends or his inscrutable nightmares.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Moondae says, voice tight as Wongil wails into his chest. “It’s okay and you want to know why? It’s because you’re bigger than this. You’re bigger than them, bigger than the entire sky. You’re Choi Wongil.”

He clears his throat, trying to will the tears away. This isn’t about him and his leaky faucet eyes, he has to be strong enough for his friend.

“You’re Choi Wongil and this is just a stepping stone to better things. You’re Choi Wongil and you’re going to be successful at everything you’ll ever do,” Moondae states with conviction, feeling a little like an idiot as he speaks whatever comes to mind, no matter how disjointed or clumsy. “You’re Choi Wongil and you’ll never be alone because Park Moondae is always going to be around to remind you of that.”

Why is it always the kids who have to suffer? The kids who put their entire hearts, their bodies, their lives, their youth towards their dreams but get trampled by the very people who were supposed to uplift them. Why is it that Wongil’s life was okay to throw away for the sake of ratings and why was Moondae allowed to stay? What made them choose Moondae over someone like Wongil who actually wanted this enough to let it ruin his heart?

It’s frustrating, it’s infuriating to have to fight for a place here when it was actively hurting the people he liked and cared about. It sucked that he had to dance to a tune, sing to a letter, act like a pawn just to keep living. And then what about after? What about when he did debut? Was he just stuck in a place that played a huge part in destroying his friend’s mental health? A place that let Iljoon and fifty, sixty other people’s dreams die without having really begun in the first place. Idol Inc. was ruining lives and he just resolved to stay there. He was complicit in this.

And it’s the guilt that makes him feel the most scummy, he knows he’s just doing this to survive but it might not look like that to Wongil who was crying so hard his lungs would give out because he just broke his heart on the very stage Moondae had to stand on.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, frustrated at himself and this entire pace as he swipes tears away. “It’s okay.”

He muffles the sob when Wongil nods against his chest, hands fisted tight in the labels of his show uniform. Moondae clearly isn’t quiet enough though because Wongil freezes in place, head popping up but still actively weeping.

“Are you crying?” Wongil asks, bewildered like he doesn’t have full view of Moondae’s face, like he was crying hard enough that he believed his tear ducts were also trying to be supportive in this moment.

“No.” Moondae lies, turning his head away to avoid Wongil’s tearful gaze.

“Oh, Moondae-yah,” Wongil’s voice is still thick with tears but so helplessly fond, it hurts. “It’s okay, I’m sorry, Moondae-yah, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, okay? It’s alright, I’ll be fine from now on, so don’t cry!”

Moondae screws his eyes shut like that’ll do anything to stop the tears, face twisting in a brow furrowed frown. It doesn’t seem to help though when Wongil starts laughing in earnest, joyful and hurt and relieved and sad, in his ear as he tucks his face into the crook of Moondae’s neck.

“Of course, you’ll be fine,” Moondae bites out, angry at himself for crying again. “You’re Choi Wongil, so don’t apologize.”

“Yeah,” Wongil breathes out in wonderment, snotty and congested but laughing again. “I’m Choi Wongil, everything will be fine.”

Chapter Text

Yeonjoo has been a little busy. Life, work, spending time with her family, deciding to move in with her boyfriend, catching up with friends – all this had caught up to her at the same time and compounded with the holiday season, it was like all she was doing was sleeping and surviving. She hadn’t meant to neglect her fanlife, of which she was still fervently devoted, but it had admittedly taken a backseat while she sorted out everything else.

She still thought about Moondae, hoped the best for him and tried to find the time to watch the reruns of episodes when she could. While he placed 9th last round due to the, frankly, hateful amount of stock selling, anyone with eyes and ears could see that he belonged on the stage. The Moon Rabbit team proved that they were among the top contenders with that single performance and with how involved Moondae was at every step, Yeonjoo had naively believed that people would see that regardless of who they favored.

But the combination of loyalty-based stan culture and rabid fans who refused to change their stripes and Moondae’s place dropped to scary, could possibly be eliminated levels. Worse, his actual placement before stock selling took an insane dip.

She could blame other fans, she could blame herself but she knew that they all played their part in this downward slip. She couldn’t muster anything other than shame and sadness, thinking of Moondae and how disappointed he must have been to work so hard, just to fall so far down because his fans couldn’t take the time to push for him. So it wasn’t a tone of anger or accusation in their dedicated Moondae group chats and across her TL after the episode aired that night, no, it was determination.

Full Moon Baby | for moondae ☾* @fullmoonbaby ・ 50m
no excuses. we got complacent. our moondae deserves better.

Full Moon Baby | for moondae ☾* @fullmoonbaby ・ 49m
replying to @fullmoonbaby
“To the moon & back” isn’t just a tagline, it’s a promise. my full moon baby, you’re going to debut 🌙

ad fundraising links below, i have members of the community ready to match every donation so every little bit you can give will be doubled.

daily moondae @moondaetosunday ・ 45m
replying to @fullmoonbaby
why did i just get chills

daily moondae @moondaetosunday ・ 44m
to the moon & back for my boy! donate what you can! ads fundraising links below! thank you to the best master-nim for getting this all put together, love you <3<3<3

moonpuppy for debut @moon_puppy ・ 40m
what’s OT in the face of my child’s dreams coming true 🩷 i'm just a single mom supporting my idol-to-be son 🩷 yes, he will debut or i will burn down several buildings 🩷

make a wish @eus_genies ・ 37m
thank you to @fullmoonbaby for putting these fundraisers together! the rational genies with functional eyes and brains who love and adore moondae just as much as our eugene does will 100% donate!

God Tier Stock Moondae ⬆️ @moondaeyaaah ・ 35m
replying to @eus_genies
holy shit, first blood of this match THANK YOU FOR DEFENDING OUR BABY

make a wish @eus_genies ・ 34m
replying to @moondaeyaaah
i'm a eugene stan first, moondae stan second, and human third. eugene might occupy most of my brain but moondae owns too much of my heart… 💛

God Tier Stock Moondae ⬆️ @moondaeyaaah ・ 32m
replying to @eus_genies
lmao why am i crying this was so fuckin sweet

moondae for ruler of planet earth @moon_daze ・ 30m
the way i sold my vtic concert tickets so i could buy more moondae stock l m a o judan, baby i still love you sfm but my child needs me 😭

-...Emperor! @emperor_cheongryeo ・ 28m
replying to @moon_daze
REAL. already loved him from day 1 but after the casting call episode came out and i saw how alike moondae was to cheongreyo (park “perfect fit with LeTi” moondae, are you KIDDING ME). it sucks that i won’t see cheongryeo in this leg of the tour but it’s a small sacrifice to make sure i'll see moondae on stage someday too!

fawndae for debut @fawn_dae・ 25m
EXCUSE ME??? EXCUSE THE FUCK OUTTA ME??? EMPEROR??? THE BIGGEST N.A. CHEONGRYEO FANSITE PUBLICLY TWEETING ON THEIR ACTUAL ACCOUNT WITH OVER 800K FOLLOWERS, BACKING MOONDAE??? SELLING THEIR VITC TICKETS JUST TO BUY STOCKS AND DONATE TO ADS??? WHAT WORLD DID I WAKE UP IN???

VTIC only @tica_site・ 23m
replying to @emperor_cheongryeo
genuinely disappointing to see this. you represent a huge amount of ticas and you’re forcing some untalented, drama-ridden, trolling kid on us? how much did moondog’s fans pay you to post this? 💀 he’s so fucking sus i wouldn’t be surprised if some disgusting controversy about him comes out soon. you’re making the biggest mistake.

-...Emperor! @emperor_cheongryeo ・ 20m
replying to @tica_site
sorry couldn’t hear you over the astounding amount of shit coming out the asshole you call your mouth. wipe up when you’re done, ok?

our baby star @softmoondae ・ 15m
replying to @emperor_cheongyeo
STOP, STOP >////< THEY’RE ALREADY DEAD!!!

The Gold Standard @goldenahyeon ・ 10m
I mean, I’m basically married to Ahyeon at this point. Buying stocks for Moondae is like giving allowance to our kid. This is how families work, people.

seon ahyeon or die @s_ahyeoninc ・ 8m
replying to @goldenahyeon
wow the way you’re so correct??? i'm just doing my job as moondae’s other mom??? wife to moondae’s Actual Mom Seon Ahyeon???

it’s cha eugene’s world @du_euguene ・ 6m
replying to @s_ahyeoninc
SADNJANJKAD AHYEON/YN YURI ON MY TL??? 😳 WHERE’S MY SIXTEEN CHAPTER SI RPF AHYEON/YN YURI KIDFIC WITH BABY!MOONDAE AU???? 😳

sugar glider @travelngsaysmn ・ 4m
replying to @du_euguene
moot i love you but i'm going to need three dictionaries to parse through whatever the FUCK you just said

LOCKIN TF IIIIIN @idealmoon ・ Just now
LMAOOOOO i'm part of this park moondae fancomm and everyone is going insane rn there’s this one girl who is like. legitimately rich and she’s dipping into her TRUST FUND to buy stock. another guy says he’s reallocating his gacha budget until the show is over and he’s A WHALE. like. this is SERIOUS for us. as for me?

who needs savings when OUR MOONDAE needs saving? 😤😤😤

As the youngest of the group, Moondae feels a little awkward being voted in as the leader, especially for something as important as the final match. But he thinks it may be a good way to get some positive screentime. With such an integral role at such a pivotal moment, surely production will have a hard time getting footage that makes him look as terrible as he usually does under their tender mercies.

And surely, his teammates’ fans will not absolutely bury him in hate once news that he’s been chosen to be in charge of their favorite’s fate. Yeah, he has zero faith in either being true. That’s the only reason he even considers the skill the roulette slyly offered up once he spun his reward for getting 1,000,000 impressions.

Resilient Sprout [B]
Active Skill
Though young and still getting your roots under you, you stand strong and upright even in the face of heartache.

Mental shock will be reduced by 50%.

Moondae thinks back to the weepy mess he was earlier that week and wants to add it to his list of skills just on that principle but rationally speaking, he needs to consider what would work best.

(He also ignores the encroaching dread and tamped down hysteria in the pit of his stomach every time he looks at his ranking, would the skill even work retroactively? Or did it only apply to subsequent events? Should he start preparing to die, actually this time? He has some money saved up now, he can go somewhere nicer to lay Moondae’s body to rest, a better place than where he woke up. Not for the first time, he wished that this system came with some kind of guide to spare him the headaches.)

Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)
Level: 13
Title: None

Singing: A+
Dancing: C+
Looks: A
Charm: B+

Traits: Infinite Potential

Available Stat Points: 1

Skills:

>Who Could Say No To That Face? [C]
>Apple Of My Eye [D]
>Little Energizer Bunny [B]

Although embarrassing in name, his current skills were too good to pass over something that only had a chance of triggering in these last few weeks of Idol Inc. He didn’t want to lose any charm points if he got rid of his least favorite skill, Apple Of My Eye, and after the blood, sweat, and tears he put into bringing his dance skill up to a passable C+, he doesn’t want to spend his extra stat point on anything else. 

Still, he waits a few days before deciding. He’s not going to sugarcoat anything and confess that the only reason he’s waiting is to see how Lee Sejin A acted around him. Moondae was mostly over what happened between, if a bit awkward and hesitant at the memory of Lee Sejin A’s (deserved) anger in the face of his nosy curiosity and compulsive need to fix everything.

Moondae could handle a lot but he’s admittedly never cared enough about himself enough to care about how others saw him until Idol Inc. As much as he wants to think he’s above all the games the production team plays, he’s still susceptible and can get caught up in the emotionally charged atmosphere these high-stress shows love creating. Case in point: the very obvious tension between them.

Everyone notices but opt not to say anything when Moondae clams up faster and tighter than a bank vault and absolutely no one can muster up the gumption to ask Lee Sejin A who looked like he wanted to die whenever Moondae came near him. And not for lack of trying, Keunse had noticed the weird air between them first and decided to ask Moondae separately if he was comfortable with their reticent teammate. A sweet, ultimately useless, gesture but Moondae appreciated it.

“It’s… fine,” Moondae had replied hesitantly, missing the shuttered microexpression of fury on Keunse’s face before it blinked away like it was never there. “I just, I overstepped with Lee Sejin-hyungnim and I would prefer to go at his pace. I can’t say anymore than that, it’s not really my place to speak about him like this.”

“Huh,” Keunse huffed out an amused laugh before ruffling his hair hard enough that he could feel the few precious centimeters he earned being ground away. “Alright but just say the word, Moondae-moondae. I can talk to him.”

Thankfully, there was minimal interaction between them as Heeseung and Ahyeon worked to get him caught up in his dancing skills while they hammered out the last few details of their final stage. Keunse mostly stayed with Moondae under the guise of singing lessons but anyone with eyes could tell he was hovering. Moondae accepted it with a fondness he really couldn’t deny and deleted Resilient Sprout from its pending status later that week. He would’ve been more worried about the almost instant regret if they weren’t instantly swamped with work. 

Raebin was beginning to look wan and withdrawn as he fell into a production spiral so Moondae was glad for the mandatory reprieve when their studio had to close. The entire week, he practically had to drag Raebin away from his laptop every so often and Raebin only snapped out of it when he saw that Moondae had his arms around his waist to physically pull him away from his work. After that he was just contrite and bright red in the face, waving his hands in front of him and trying to politely dislodge Moondae from his person. Of course, Moondae refused until he sat down and ate with him. Eugene had nodded sagely with two thumbs up when Moondae recounted just how he got Raebin down to the cafeteria to have lunch with them.

It felt a little like coming out of a dark cave when they were all set free for their short break. Sejin had lagged behind them as they stumbled out of the studio doors and Ahyeon was still in the middle of trying to convince Moondae to come with him and his parents on a quick trip to their hometown when their car pulled up.

“Moondae-yah!” Ahyeon’s mother calls out from the open window brightly, waving with a gentle smile on her face. “Ahyeonie, did you manage to convince him? Your father was practically bereft when you told him Moondae couldn’t come last night.”

“H-honey!” Ahyeon’s father splutters, hands leaving the steering wheel to cover his face in embarrassment. “Don’t say that!”

“Um, ah,” Moondae was probably a beacon of humiliation right now and he bows low to stave off the awkwardness before popping up again like a weird, jerky jack in the box. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could.”

“Oh come now,” Ahyeon’s mother teases, leaning out of the window to reach for Moondae’s hands - Moondae automatically reaches back without even thinking. “I’m just joking, your samchon and imo know that you have other obligations.”

And there was that thing too; Ahyeon’s parents insisted he call them that and he was still trying to get over how awkward the terms fell in his mouth, too unused to calling anyone by those words. As Gunwoo, he hadn’t had any aunts or uncles close enough to refer to them so familiarly and it brings a weird sense of sorrow that Moondae refused to sit with.

“Thank you for understanding, i-imo,” Moondae stutters through it with valiance and grace and tries not to flinch when Ahyeon’s mother squeezes his hands in hers. “Please enjoy your trip, all of you.”

“We will!” Ahyeon’s father replies, fanning his still flush cheeks but smiling just as warmly as his wife. “Make sure to call us tonight before going to bed! Brush your teeth, lock the door, and listen to your Sejin-hyung.”

“Y-yes, samchon,” Moondae replies shyly, feeling itchy with how utterly domestic this entire scene was - Ahyeon’s beaming grin as he watched over them from the backseat did nothing to help. “Thank you, I will. Please be careful driving.”

“No worries, I got it from here, samchon,” Keunse had caught up to them during their conversation and he slings a heavy arm around Moondae’s shoulders. “Have fun on your trip!”

Lee Sejin offering to essentially babysit him was probably another reason why the Seons were okay with leaving without him. Ahyeon had practically shoved his house keys at him when he offered and Keunse, already too familiar with Ahyeon’s apartment, just accepted like it was normal to try and babysit their shared coworker. Moondae would be almost insulted at being treated like a child but he also didn’t want to talk about it lest he reveal some deep-seated fears he wasn’t trying to talk about anymore. He’s had enough crying to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

So he accepts their machinations with minimal fight and fussing and just assures the Seons for the seventeenth time that he’ll be fine being alone (as alone as he could be with Keunse for company) for two days. They wave Ahyeon and his family off after several more rounds of concerned fussing that Keunse took with good humor. The plan after that was to go back to Ahyeon’s apartment and laze around for two days, sleeping and eating and repeating until Moondae finally caught up and paid off his sleep debt.

That was the plan, ‘was’ being the key word here. Somehow, less than an hour after leaving the studio, he was in a cumbersome puppy costume running a marathon as he tries to hit as many subway ads as he possibly can. The two his fans bought previously were overwhelming enough, but to find out that they bought thirty this time? That was about to put him in a coma. He had more ads than Eugene for god’s sake, the front runner for the entire competition only had twenty two total. Moondae didn’t know whether to be grateful or afraid but it was such an all encompassing feeling to look at the carefully curated tour map (!) of his ads that he just nodded along to whatever idea Eugene had.

Did he regret not listening? Just a little. It was hard to find an appropriate costume in his size and the puppy mascot head that fit the best tended to bounce and go askew if he ran too fast. Still, he visits subway ad after subway ad, taking photos with enamoured fans, bowing politely when they easily make way to let him take a proof shot of his own and waving to the excited kids who thought something far more exciting was going on. By the end of it all, he’s exhausted and exhilarated and so fucking touched that it’s a little embarassing.

Moondae, boneless in the bathtub after everything, reads through the astronomical amount of posts coming out on the Idol Inc fancomm and across all social platforms about the little stunt they pulled. Only he and Raebin managed to keep it together until the very end, Eugene getting caught nearly immediately and Sejin not being able to hide anything even under a mascot costume. Moondae sends a well-deserved ‘good job’ text to Raebin after his bath who replies with an animated smiley he’s only seen on Windows 98. 

“Moondae-moondae,” Keunse calls from where he’s sprawled out on Ahyeon’s couch like he pays the rent there. “Oh my God, did you see how fast Eugene got caught? Haha, and that kid said he’d make it to the end!”

“I don’t think you can say much yourself, hyung,” Moondae replies drily, dropping onto the couch next to him with a thump. “You have no excuse, you didn’t even have to take off the mask, everyone already knew it was you.”

“Whaaat?” Sejin gasps out, actually shocked. “Wait, what do you mean?!”

Moondae shoves his phone in his face with one hand as he dries his hair with a towel in the other. On his beat up screen is a long line of users pretending to not know who the towering bear mascot standing in front of Lee Sejin’s subway billboard ad could be. Keunse fumbles for a moment, squinting at the screen and holding it away from his face before gaping in actual surprise like he genuinely believed he got away with it.

“Are you serious? Man, I really thought I was incognito.”

Moondae snorts, ducking his head to run the towel over the back of his head.

“I think the fanservice gave it away,” Moondae remarks, amused despite himself. “Everyone knows the flower pose is your favorite.”

“Brat,” Keunse huffs, tossing Moondae’s phone further up the couch and sitting up. “Come here, let me do that.”

Before Moondae can even protest, his towel is in Keunse’s hands and gently running over his damp hair in smooth, consistent movements. He freezes like a prey animal but Keunse doesn’t seem to mind, methodically drying his hair like it was something normal they did and not like Moondae was in active combat with his fight or flight instincts. The hesitation lasts long enough that to protest now would be even more awkward than just letting it happen, so Moondae does his best to relax and act like nothing was wrong. Like this was something totally normal between two friends and not like it was breaking and restructuring something in Moondae’s poor fallible heart.

He’s forgotten this casual, intimate kind of touch. As Moondae, he’s gotten multiple hugs, hair ruffled, cheeks pinched and more by a plethora of people and Heeseung and Wongil both have to have a hand on him at all times when they hang out. But this, this is something only his father and mother have done for him and Gunwoo hasn’t known a touch like this in nearly a decade. It’s painful in a way that reminds him that there’s always going to be something irrevocably empty inside of him, a distance that can never be bridged over.

It’s not healing, it’s not life changing or transformative, it won’t fix him but it is gentle, it is soft, and it reminds him of the growing well of affection he has for his friends in this life. It’s nice; it’s just nice.

So Moondae lets it happen, shoulders drooping from the exhaustion of the day and the exhaustion of fighting against what should be easy to accept. He doesn’t remember when exactly he falls asleep but the warmth he feels when he wakes up tucked into his bed is hard to ignore.