interlude
cl/bom
rated g
508 words
a small moment during rehearsal.
notes: written for the
ambitiousgirls challenge for
upchucked!
Besides Chaerin, Bom has the best English.
Maybe that's a lie. It could be Dara, but Dara is still self-conscious about the way she speaks it, the little bit of Tagalog that clings even though no one’s ever made fun of her for it, even though she knows the right answers to all of the questions during the interviews and makes suggestions for what Bom or Chaerin should have said in the van afterwards. Minji is still learning her adjectives and verbs, still trying to build a real fluency, something more than the lyrics to Nirvana songs and awkward conversations with Jeremy Scott.
So it falls to Bom. It’s not she isn’t used to carrying the songs, but these are new and they’re all in English and suddenly she’s as nervous as she was back in will.i.am’s studio. The words don't quite roll off her tongue the way they should. She's getting the inflection right, the syllables all crisp, but this is the first time she does it “live,” a late-night dress rehearsal for their first ever appearance, and when she’s finished Chaerin laughs.
"What?" Bom asks. She’s breathing hard, and in the corner of her eye she sees Dara in the corner with her phone. She sneaks her a small thumbs-up.
"Nothing," Chaerin says, something catlike in her smile, eyes half-hidden underneath her bangs. "It's cute. Keep going."
"I wasn't trying for cute," Bom grumbles.
"Right." Chaerin sways past her in Isabel Marant sneakers and Chanel suspenders clipped onto already too-tight shorts. "Can't really help that," she adds, and Bom stops dancing altogether, laughs because she doesn’t know what else to do, kicks at Chaerin’s direction and makes a sound that only sort of passes as a protest.
"Okay, okay," Chaerin laughs, "how about you try this." She repeats Bom’s lyrics as she dances, the end of the verse and the chorus Bom had always secretly thought was a little ridiculous, only when Chaerin pops her chest she doesn't run out of breath. She slurs the end of the verse exactly the way Teddy did in the demo, her voice a little raspy, low and controlled because she isn’t onstage and too caught up in the crowd to really sing, and now Bom is only half-listening. She’s too caught up in the way Chaerin moves, her hands that still gesture the way Jiyong and Seunghyun taught her, the taut line of her stomach that shows when she slips easily into the short body roll the choreography calls for. "You got it?" she asks, and when Bom blinks she's standing still, hand on her hip and a grin on her face, catlike again. There’s a bead of sweat that slides slow down the middle of her collarbones, disappearing into the swell of her chest and Bom blinks--
"Didn't think so." It's only an instant, the two of them standing face-to-face like that, Chaerin watching her with a glint of something in her eye. Then she straightens her shirt up and shrugs, eyes cool and composed. "Do it again."