Let It Go
Rating: pg
Wordcount: 1400
Pairing: Sunggyu-centric, featuring Sungyeol
Summary: Sunggyu tries a new image on for size. Sungyeol isn’t a fan. Written for Team Future over at kpop-olymfics, based on this supplementary prompt.
A/N: This was my first time writing Infinite, and I'm sorry for any resultant mischaracterization. Thanks to everyone who voted positively for this fic, and great job Team Future!
Let It Go
Four years, 8 months, and 16 days after Sunggyu releases his first album, his second one drops. It does pretty well on the charts, all things considered. It doesn’t hit number one. He doesn’t win first on any music shows. But it stays in the top 10, then top 20 sales on a few rankings for the month and a half he promotes. He’s always pushed himself to try and be the best, pushed Infinite to outperform and outperform and outperform themselves, but he’s oddly satisfied with this relatively modest amount of success. You’re getting old, hyung, he hears the members tease, and a part of him wants to laugh and another wants to hit them all, even if they’re scattered across the city and the country and the world.
In theory, he likes promoting solo. He should be freed of his usual expectations and obligations, of being the leader, of having to keep anyone in line. But he’s not. He still used to be Infinite’s leader. He’s still appeared on all of these shows before, had an image molded and carved out for him before he even had a chance to dream he’d appear by himself one day.
“You’ve got a very different look now,” the hosts all say when he comes on, dressed in dark colors, hair slick, “you have a dark concept, an edgy concept. Can you tell us more about that?”
Sunggyu answers them the way they expect to be answered, with a list of reasons that don’t mean terribly much: showing different sides of himself and expressing the full range of his feelings and creating an otherworldly atmosphere. He acts the way they expect, too, when the introduction’s over and he has to be the newer, broodier version of himself that’s been planned out. He still acts silly and lets everyone make fun of him, because he’s not supposed to be a completely different person. Just a slightly more eye-catching one.
When they pitched the concept to him initially, he accepted it without too much thought. He took off his shirt and let them paint wings on his back, dark and thick and long. He kept stretching during the shoot and smudging the ink and the stylists got exasperated but it wasn’t too bad. It went quickly and they let him shower and change into his normal clothes and go back to his room at the dorms when it was over and he ordered greasy take out, the kind he wasn’t allowed to eat for the week leading up to the shoot, to celebrate and went to sleep.
He doesn’t tell anyone about the concept before the album comes out. He knows everyone he thinks he could tell well enough that he can see their reactions, and he doesn’t want them. Hyung, he can hear them say, why are you trying so hard?
He doesn’t talk about that last part on variety shows, when they ask him about the process of making the album, his transformation into a new image. He tells the smudging story because it’s funny and people have always liked to laugh at him, but he smiles at the end, instead.
Sungyeol calls him at the tail end of his promotions and asks him if he can come over and eat dinner sometime that week. Sunggyu agrees, because he likes Sungyeol and promoting is long and tiring and no one else is around. Myungsoo’s off taking photos for some book he’s releasing, Hoya’s wrapping up filming for a drama on Jeju, Woohyun’s perpetually exhausted from musical rehearsals and performances, Dongwoo’s working semi-regularly on variety programs and recording a solo album, and Sungjong’s busy with variety, too. Sungyeol was never his closest friend, his favorite member, anything particularly special, to him, but he’s company. He had liked him plenty, of course, because Sungyeol was likable and clever and entertaining, but there was always a certain amount of annoyance he harbored toward him, a certain amount of something he knows, logically, is jealousy, but doesn’t really want to name.
“You’ve lost weight,” Sunggyu says when he opens the door to let Sungyeol into his room.
“Comes with the territory,” he replies and takes off his shoes.
“How’s modeling?”
“Boring, but it’s something to do.”
Sunggyu smiles and goes to his fridge. He’s pulls out leftovers to reheat and brings them to the microwave.
“So, your album’s doing pretty well, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Sunggyu replies as he carries the food out. He hands Sungyeol a plate and a pair of chopsticks.
“Your concept’s kind of… not you.”
Sunggyu almost laughs. It’s an oddly innocent statement, out of character with everything Sungyeol’s been projecting since he walked in. It’s also, he knows, what’s probably been on everyone’s mind as they’ve seen him promote. He’s noticed it, in tiny hints, throughout the scarce interactions he still has with everyone.
“When are concepts ever fitting?”
“I mean I think we all just kinda figured you’d actually… make this into something you could be proud of? As opposed to just another project thing.”
“Am I supposed to be offended by that?”
“No? I’m just saying. What were you going for? You’re not like some dark angel character at all.”
“Oh, you know. Trying out a new image, mostly.”
“Which you’ve never shown any inclination towards in the past.”
“Did you just come here to bother me about this?”
“No. I was bored.”
Sunggyu doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he stays silent and shovels some more food into his mouth.
“Sorry, hyung,” Sungyeol says after several minutes have passed in silence.
“It’s ok. I… I mean I’ve known that… eventually probably someone was going to bring this up to me.”
Sungyeol nods. “You always wanted to do something… more authentic is all. I was kinda surprised to see you doing something else gimmicky. I mean it’s certainly a lot different than the kinda stuff we did but it’s still not… you know, you.”
Sunggyu smiles. He has, of course, thought about this. Lost sleep over it. Wondered if he should’ve refused the concept they gave him.
“I tried that already, kinda, and it… didn’t work so well.”
“Does it really bother you that much? That you didn’t, you know, win everything with your first solo thing five years ago? Because that’s a while ago, now.”
Sunggyu puts his plate down. He’s eaten it mostly clean now, and he feels restless. He stand up and stretches a little paces back and forth. “Doesn’t it bother you, too?”
He expects Sungyeol to look taken aback, because despite Sungyeol’s sometimes overly callous honesty he doesn’t deserve to be snapped at, and his lack of standard idol talent in relation to everyone else in the group has already been scrutinized enough, by himself, by the company, by the public, by Sungyeol. But his face doesn’t really change much. A small smile creeps onto his lips and Sunggyu doesn’t know what to make of that.
“I gave up caring a while ago,” he replies, putting his plate down and standing as well. “Sometimes you have to realize you’re not cut out from the same stuff as everyone else.”
Sunggyu almost retorts-I fucking know that, do you think I liked singing 80s inspired synth pop that much? You know I didn’t because I complained about it-but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry hyung. I probably don’t have much authority to bring these things up, but…”
“No, it’s fine. It’s fine,” Sunggyu cuts him off before he can apologize again.
“I just didn’t realize you’d finally traded yourself in for fame. Like I thought that was always what dissatisfied you the most about us, about Infinite, about being an idol. I was surprised. We all were, really.”
Sunggyu nods. Sungyeol leaves a little while later, after the conversation fades and they discuss a few mundane things. Sunggyu goes to bed immediately after, because he feels heavy and doesn’t know how else to deal with the pressure spreading from his chest, through his body, the one he’s done so well capping for so long.
A year and a half after Kim Sunggyu drops his second solo album, his third is released. It’s a return to his original style, but with a more expanded sound, influences from recent trends in indie music, honesty about himself and his own experiences that he didn’t know he was quite capable of, lyrically. It doesn’t top the charts this time, either, but its sales fall somewhere between his last two efforts. And that, Sunggyu thinks as he puts on the outfit he’s selected and reviews the introduction he’s written for his appearance on the show Dongwoo’s co-hosting, is good enough.
Wordcount: 1400
Pairing: Sunggyu-centric, featuring Sungyeol
Summary: Sunggyu tries a new image on for size. Sungyeol isn’t a fan. Written for Team Future over at kpop-olymfics, based on this supplementary prompt.
A/N: This was my first time writing Infinite, and I'm sorry for any resultant mischaracterization. Thanks to everyone who voted positively for this fic, and great job Team Future!
Let It Go
Four years, 8 months, and 16 days after Sunggyu releases his first album, his second one drops. It does pretty well on the charts, all things considered. It doesn’t hit number one. He doesn’t win first on any music shows. But it stays in the top 10, then top 20 sales on a few rankings for the month and a half he promotes. He’s always pushed himself to try and be the best, pushed Infinite to outperform and outperform and outperform themselves, but he’s oddly satisfied with this relatively modest amount of success. You’re getting old, hyung, he hears the members tease, and a part of him wants to laugh and another wants to hit them all, even if they’re scattered across the city and the country and the world.
In theory, he likes promoting solo. He should be freed of his usual expectations and obligations, of being the leader, of having to keep anyone in line. But he’s not. He still used to be Infinite’s leader. He’s still appeared on all of these shows before, had an image molded and carved out for him before he even had a chance to dream he’d appear by himself one day.
“You’ve got a very different look now,” the hosts all say when he comes on, dressed in dark colors, hair slick, “you have a dark concept, an edgy concept. Can you tell us more about that?”
Sunggyu answers them the way they expect to be answered, with a list of reasons that don’t mean terribly much: showing different sides of himself and expressing the full range of his feelings and creating an otherworldly atmosphere. He acts the way they expect, too, when the introduction’s over and he has to be the newer, broodier version of himself that’s been planned out. He still acts silly and lets everyone make fun of him, because he’s not supposed to be a completely different person. Just a slightly more eye-catching one.
When they pitched the concept to him initially, he accepted it without too much thought. He took off his shirt and let them paint wings on his back, dark and thick and long. He kept stretching during the shoot and smudging the ink and the stylists got exasperated but it wasn’t too bad. It went quickly and they let him shower and change into his normal clothes and go back to his room at the dorms when it was over and he ordered greasy take out, the kind he wasn’t allowed to eat for the week leading up to the shoot, to celebrate and went to sleep.
He doesn’t tell anyone about the concept before the album comes out. He knows everyone he thinks he could tell well enough that he can see their reactions, and he doesn’t want them. Hyung, he can hear them say, why are you trying so hard?
He doesn’t talk about that last part on variety shows, when they ask him about the process of making the album, his transformation into a new image. He tells the smudging story because it’s funny and people have always liked to laugh at him, but he smiles at the end, instead.
Sungyeol calls him at the tail end of his promotions and asks him if he can come over and eat dinner sometime that week. Sunggyu agrees, because he likes Sungyeol and promoting is long and tiring and no one else is around. Myungsoo’s off taking photos for some book he’s releasing, Hoya’s wrapping up filming for a drama on Jeju, Woohyun’s perpetually exhausted from musical rehearsals and performances, Dongwoo’s working semi-regularly on variety programs and recording a solo album, and Sungjong’s busy with variety, too. Sungyeol was never his closest friend, his favorite member, anything particularly special, to him, but he’s company. He had liked him plenty, of course, because Sungyeol was likable and clever and entertaining, but there was always a certain amount of annoyance he harbored toward him, a certain amount of something he knows, logically, is jealousy, but doesn’t really want to name.
“You’ve lost weight,” Sunggyu says when he opens the door to let Sungyeol into his room.
“Comes with the territory,” he replies and takes off his shoes.
“How’s modeling?”
“Boring, but it’s something to do.”
Sunggyu smiles and goes to his fridge. He’s pulls out leftovers to reheat and brings them to the microwave.
“So, your album’s doing pretty well, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Sunggyu replies as he carries the food out. He hands Sungyeol a plate and a pair of chopsticks.
“Your concept’s kind of… not you.”
Sunggyu almost laughs. It’s an oddly innocent statement, out of character with everything Sungyeol’s been projecting since he walked in. It’s also, he knows, what’s probably been on everyone’s mind as they’ve seen him promote. He’s noticed it, in tiny hints, throughout the scarce interactions he still has with everyone.
“When are concepts ever fitting?”
“I mean I think we all just kinda figured you’d actually… make this into something you could be proud of? As opposed to just another project thing.”
“Am I supposed to be offended by that?”
“No? I’m just saying. What were you going for? You’re not like some dark angel character at all.”
“Oh, you know. Trying out a new image, mostly.”
“Which you’ve never shown any inclination towards in the past.”
“Did you just come here to bother me about this?”
“No. I was bored.”
Sunggyu doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he stays silent and shovels some more food into his mouth.
“Sorry, hyung,” Sungyeol says after several minutes have passed in silence.
“It’s ok. I… I mean I’ve known that… eventually probably someone was going to bring this up to me.”
Sungyeol nods. “You always wanted to do something… more authentic is all. I was kinda surprised to see you doing something else gimmicky. I mean it’s certainly a lot different than the kinda stuff we did but it’s still not… you know, you.”
Sunggyu smiles. He has, of course, thought about this. Lost sleep over it. Wondered if he should’ve refused the concept they gave him.
“I tried that already, kinda, and it… didn’t work so well.”
“Does it really bother you that much? That you didn’t, you know, win everything with your first solo thing five years ago? Because that’s a while ago, now.”
Sunggyu puts his plate down. He’s eaten it mostly clean now, and he feels restless. He stand up and stretches a little paces back and forth. “Doesn’t it bother you, too?”
He expects Sungyeol to look taken aback, because despite Sungyeol’s sometimes overly callous honesty he doesn’t deserve to be snapped at, and his lack of standard idol talent in relation to everyone else in the group has already been scrutinized enough, by himself, by the company, by the public, by Sungyeol. But his face doesn’t really change much. A small smile creeps onto his lips and Sunggyu doesn’t know what to make of that.
“I gave up caring a while ago,” he replies, putting his plate down and standing as well. “Sometimes you have to realize you’re not cut out from the same stuff as everyone else.”
Sunggyu almost retorts-I fucking know that, do you think I liked singing 80s inspired synth pop that much? You know I didn’t because I complained about it-but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry hyung. I probably don’t have much authority to bring these things up, but…”
“No, it’s fine. It’s fine,” Sunggyu cuts him off before he can apologize again.
“I just didn’t realize you’d finally traded yourself in for fame. Like I thought that was always what dissatisfied you the most about us, about Infinite, about being an idol. I was surprised. We all were, really.”
Sunggyu nods. Sungyeol leaves a little while later, after the conversation fades and they discuss a few mundane things. Sunggyu goes to bed immediately after, because he feels heavy and doesn’t know how else to deal with the pressure spreading from his chest, through his body, the one he’s done so well capping for so long.
A year and a half after Kim Sunggyu drops his second solo album, his third is released. It’s a return to his original style, but with a more expanded sound, influences from recent trends in indie music, honesty about himself and his own experiences that he didn’t know he was quite capable of, lyrically. It doesn’t top the charts this time, either, but its sales fall somewhere between his last two efforts. And that, Sunggyu thinks as he puts on the outfit he’s selected and reviews the introduction he’s written for his appearance on the show Dongwoo’s co-hosting, is good enough.