[fic] the unexpected (2/?)
title: the unexpected (2/?)
fandom: Infinite RPF
characters: Myungsoo/original female character, Woohyun, ot7
word count: ~1390
summary: Myungsoo meets a girl who is all wrong
a/n: inspired by a conversation on tumblr - mostly for the kpop alphabet gang
I don't know whether to be happy that I got some writing done, or disturbed by the fact that I need to wake up in less than four hours to teach. Anyway, this is a long time coming and I'm sorry about the delay between updates on this.
[This is a Woohyun and Myungsoo chapter. In the barest sense. I just had feels about them today, okay?]She was sitting on the ground with her back against his legs. Her hair (now a brilliant shade of orange) was sticking straight up in every direction as she tousled it with one hand distractedly.
Myungsoo leaned down and flattened it with one hand silently.
When she batted his hand away and ruffled it all the more with both hands, he just smiled and leaned back against the bench, attention back on the camera in his hand.
Her name, as it turned out, was September.
Or at least, that is what she was calling herself at the moment that he met her. He expected it to change any day.
Her father was an old high school (or army?) buddy of CEO-nim. Her mother was Thai-American and had sent September to an American boarding school for High School. Once in a while, she slipped in a rare Thai phrase, the melodic language flowing off her tongue smoothly. Sometimes she would have entire conversations with them in English, laughing at their accents and teasing them mercilessly.
She had taken on the Thai custom for nicknames with an almost frightening relish, changing hers almost yearly. Myungsoo tried once to learn her “real” name, but she had laughed at him and then spent the rest of the day sitting between Dongwoo and Hoya, laughing and never looking back at him.
After about a week, Dongwoo had started calling her Berry, deciding quickly that “September” was far too long and didn’t suit her. She took it in with a wink and a smile. Some of them had even started to slip in interviews, forgetting September the way they sometimes forgot to say “L” in the moment.
Myungsoo didn’t call her anything really. His tongue always became too heavy when she was around, falling stiff and refusing to help him make anything but the simplest sounds. Though sometimes when he was alone, he’d whisper her name to himself, feeling the strange sounds on her tongue like a foreign dessert. September.
She was nineteen.
She was also always around.
September had decided to major in Art at an American University - and had already done two years of work towards her degree. Her father had distinctly other plans.
The boys weren’t entirely sure how her father convinced CEO-nim to let September train with them. She was a girl and should have buried in Woollim with the other potentials, training and working out of the limelight until the label decided to debut her. Instead they were marketing her as if she were Infinite’s new pet. She tagged along to all their schedules. There were pictures of her dancing with Hoya and Dongwoo, pouring over composition books with Sungyeol, nodding intently in meetings with Sunggyu and the managers, shopping with Woohyun and Key, laughing over coffee with Amber and Sungjong, and taking pictures next to Myungsoo.
She was everywhere they were.
“Learning the ropes,” CEO-nim had said gruffly to them before pulling Sunggyu aside to discuss specifics.
Somehow they had managed to swing this behind the scenes in such a way that the fangirls didn’t even seem all that upset about it.
She was there to help them on their world tour. She was writing a thesis on the idol industry. She wanted to be a producer. She was studying design. Her mother was dying and wanted to be close at hand. She didn’t even want to be there, her father forced it on her. All the different versions buzzed around, none of them stuck, but none of them were malicious. None that they saw.
Hoya suggested that it was the way they desexualized her - played up her tomboyishness in her wardrobe and in interviews.
Sungyeol and Sungjong thought maybe there was just something non-threatening about a short, hopeless American girl that was seemingly bad at everything.
She wasn’t stylish, she couldn’t dance or sing, she wasn’t even remotely good at taking pictures.
Or so the tabloids said.
Pictures of September falling down in the rehearsal space, laughing, as Dongwoo and Hoya helped her stand back up, littered the forums and magazines.
Myungsoo shifted his foot, trying not to bump her, scrolling through his camera.
There she was, fully in-step with the two best dancers Myungsoo had ever known. Laughing and smiling, her hair wild around her face, her body completely relaxed, a complete mirror of the men on either side of her.
She was great at everything.
Or so Myungsoo thought. But would never, ever say.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was probably only passably good at the normal amount of some things. But it didn’t matter to him, like Sungyeol and the other members - she seemed so perfect, so far above him. He was dazzled by her. He was confused by her.
And only very rarely was he annoyed by her.
About five times a day now instead of ten.
Woohyun walked up to them, his steps a little uncertain, and an odd expression on his face. “You shouldn’t show favoritism like this, Berry, the tabloids will start rumours.” His voice was friendly and teasing, but the tone didn’t reach his eyes.
“Rumors like how you and Sungyeol are trying to out-starve each other before the world tour starts to see who loses more weight?”
Berry didn’t even look up from her sketchpad.
Woohyun’s face turned a dangerous shade of white, his lips nearly disappearing. Myungsoo’s breath was caught in his throat, unsure what to do or where he was supposed to turn.
But the older man just slumped onto the bench next to Myungsoo and ruffled Berry’s hair affectionately, “Touché.”
Myungsoo gasped in a breath, but still felt like he was drowning. Where did that rumor come from? Was Berry just kidding? If so, it wasn’t a very funny joke. (He was always grasping for where her humor began and ended, it seemed to him a puzzle with missing pieces and no picture on the box.) Were Sungyeol and Woohyun really trying to out-diet each other? Myungsoo racked his brain for his most recent memory of either of them eating. Did they eat at breakfast? There was a fuzzy memory of a coffee mug in Sungyeol’s hand. Should he mention something to Sunggyu? His eyebrows narrowed, leader was so busy with the big tour coming up, and maybe it was nothing. He couldn’t worry…
“Soosoo?”
Berry’s soft voice broke through the buzzing in Myungsoo’s head, her chin nearly resting against his knee as she stared up at him. He smiled.
He knew it was a dorky smile the moment his face started to move, but he just couldn’t help it. Her hair was everywhere and she was wearing blue contacts today, her loose boy’s shirt was falling off her shoulder revealing a small constellation of moles and a light, thin tan-line - as if from a bikini top.
Amazingly, she smiled back. Only he always thought that she was just smiling at him because he was such a dork - she didn’t have the same … expectations that other women did. When she looked at him, he felt like Myungsoo and not L, like she could see the puppet strings he tried so desperately to hide.
It was either unnerving or comforting.
“I’m going to get a snack, want something?” Myungsoo just shook his head stupidly, but she was already on her feet. “Well you should probably get up because I’m not going to bring anything back for you and you need to eat.”
Woohyun stood to follow her, holding out his hand for Myungsoo.
There was something lurking behind Woohyun’s eyes when he looked down at his dongsaeng.
“Hyung?” Myungsoo questioned, fidgeting a little under his gaze.
Woohyun just looked at him for a moment more, as if considering something. Then - sensing Myungsoo’s discomfort - smiled (the tinkle in his eye still slightly dim). “Come on, it’s going to be a long afternoon. We should eat something.”
Myungsoo relaxed and smiled, latching onto his hyung’s arm and holding it close to his side as they followed after Berry.
It was only later that night, right before he slipped into sleep, that he remembered Woohyun’s slightly bitter remark about “favorites” but since he had no idea what it meant, he didn’t think too long about it, choosing sleep over pointless musings on his hyung’s odd behavior.
Cultural note: In Thailand (I have learned), people have such long, complicated names that everyone generally goes by a nickname. One is generally given at birth and then as a child/adult you can change it. As such, one of my coworkers has a first grader named "Pop-Pop" and I have a "Boss" in my class. (Really though I love Boss, he's precious and 11 and just flawless with his braces and chubby cheeks and mischief everything.) I'm not entirely sure how often nicknames change - it seems like it depends upon the person. So. There you have it.
fandom: Infinite RPF
characters: Myungsoo/original female character, Woohyun, ot7
word count: ~1390
summary: Myungsoo meets a girl who is all wrong
a/n: inspired by a conversation on tumblr - mostly for the kpop alphabet gang
I don't know whether to be happy that I got some writing done, or disturbed by the fact that I need to wake up in less than four hours to teach. Anyway, this is a long time coming and I'm sorry about the delay between updates on this.
[This is a Woohyun and Myungsoo chapter. In the barest sense. I just had feels about them today, okay?]She was sitting on the ground with her back against his legs. Her hair (now a brilliant shade of orange) was sticking straight up in every direction as she tousled it with one hand distractedly.
Myungsoo leaned down and flattened it with one hand silently.
When she batted his hand away and ruffled it all the more with both hands, he just smiled and leaned back against the bench, attention back on the camera in his hand.
Her name, as it turned out, was September.
Or at least, that is what she was calling herself at the moment that he met her. He expected it to change any day.
Her father was an old high school (or army?) buddy of CEO-nim. Her mother was Thai-American and had sent September to an American boarding school for High School. Once in a while, she slipped in a rare Thai phrase, the melodic language flowing off her tongue smoothly. Sometimes she would have entire conversations with them in English, laughing at their accents and teasing them mercilessly.
She had taken on the Thai custom for nicknames with an almost frightening relish, changing hers almost yearly. Myungsoo tried once to learn her “real” name, but she had laughed at him and then spent the rest of the day sitting between Dongwoo and Hoya, laughing and never looking back at him.
After about a week, Dongwoo had started calling her Berry, deciding quickly that “September” was far too long and didn’t suit her. She took it in with a wink and a smile. Some of them had even started to slip in interviews, forgetting September the way they sometimes forgot to say “L” in the moment.
Myungsoo didn’t call her anything really. His tongue always became too heavy when she was around, falling stiff and refusing to help him make anything but the simplest sounds. Though sometimes when he was alone, he’d whisper her name to himself, feeling the strange sounds on her tongue like a foreign dessert. September.
She was nineteen.
She was also always around.
September had decided to major in Art at an American University - and had already done two years of work towards her degree. Her father had distinctly other plans.
The boys weren’t entirely sure how her father convinced CEO-nim to let September train with them. She was a girl and should have buried in Woollim with the other potentials, training and working out of the limelight until the label decided to debut her. Instead they were marketing her as if she were Infinite’s new pet. She tagged along to all their schedules. There were pictures of her dancing with Hoya and Dongwoo, pouring over composition books with Sungyeol, nodding intently in meetings with Sunggyu and the managers, shopping with Woohyun and Key, laughing over coffee with Amber and Sungjong, and taking pictures next to Myungsoo.
She was everywhere they were.
“Learning the ropes,” CEO-nim had said gruffly to them before pulling Sunggyu aside to discuss specifics.
Somehow they had managed to swing this behind the scenes in such a way that the fangirls didn’t even seem all that upset about it.
She was there to help them on their world tour. She was writing a thesis on the idol industry. She wanted to be a producer. She was studying design. Her mother was dying and wanted to be close at hand. She didn’t even want to be there, her father forced it on her. All the different versions buzzed around, none of them stuck, but none of them were malicious. None that they saw.
Hoya suggested that it was the way they desexualized her - played up her tomboyishness in her wardrobe and in interviews.
Sungyeol and Sungjong thought maybe there was just something non-threatening about a short, hopeless American girl that was seemingly bad at everything.
She wasn’t stylish, she couldn’t dance or sing, she wasn’t even remotely good at taking pictures.
Or so the tabloids said.
Pictures of September falling down in the rehearsal space, laughing, as Dongwoo and Hoya helped her stand back up, littered the forums and magazines.
Myungsoo shifted his foot, trying not to bump her, scrolling through his camera.
There she was, fully in-step with the two best dancers Myungsoo had ever known. Laughing and smiling, her hair wild around her face, her body completely relaxed, a complete mirror of the men on either side of her.
She was great at everything.
Or so Myungsoo thought. But would never, ever say.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was probably only passably good at the normal amount of some things. But it didn’t matter to him, like Sungyeol and the other members - she seemed so perfect, so far above him. He was dazzled by her. He was confused by her.
And only very rarely was he annoyed by her.
About five times a day now instead of ten.
Woohyun walked up to them, his steps a little uncertain, and an odd expression on his face. “You shouldn’t show favoritism like this, Berry, the tabloids will start rumours.” His voice was friendly and teasing, but the tone didn’t reach his eyes.
“Rumors like how you and Sungyeol are trying to out-starve each other before the world tour starts to see who loses more weight?”
Berry didn’t even look up from her sketchpad.
Woohyun’s face turned a dangerous shade of white, his lips nearly disappearing. Myungsoo’s breath was caught in his throat, unsure what to do or where he was supposed to turn.
But the older man just slumped onto the bench next to Myungsoo and ruffled Berry’s hair affectionately, “Touché.”
Myungsoo gasped in a breath, but still felt like he was drowning. Where did that rumor come from? Was Berry just kidding? If so, it wasn’t a very funny joke. (He was always grasping for where her humor began and ended, it seemed to him a puzzle with missing pieces and no picture on the box.) Were Sungyeol and Woohyun really trying to out-diet each other? Myungsoo racked his brain for his most recent memory of either of them eating. Did they eat at breakfast? There was a fuzzy memory of a coffee mug in Sungyeol’s hand. Should he mention something to Sunggyu? His eyebrows narrowed, leader was so busy with the big tour coming up, and maybe it was nothing. He couldn’t worry…
“Soosoo?”
Berry’s soft voice broke through the buzzing in Myungsoo’s head, her chin nearly resting against his knee as she stared up at him. He smiled.
He knew it was a dorky smile the moment his face started to move, but he just couldn’t help it. Her hair was everywhere and she was wearing blue contacts today, her loose boy’s shirt was falling off her shoulder revealing a small constellation of moles and a light, thin tan-line - as if from a bikini top.
Amazingly, she smiled back. Only he always thought that she was just smiling at him because he was such a dork - she didn’t have the same … expectations that other women did. When she looked at him, he felt like Myungsoo and not L, like she could see the puppet strings he tried so desperately to hide.
It was either unnerving or comforting.
“I’m going to get a snack, want something?” Myungsoo just shook his head stupidly, but she was already on her feet. “Well you should probably get up because I’m not going to bring anything back for you and you need to eat.”
Woohyun stood to follow her, holding out his hand for Myungsoo.
There was something lurking behind Woohyun’s eyes when he looked down at his dongsaeng.
“Hyung?” Myungsoo questioned, fidgeting a little under his gaze.
Woohyun just looked at him for a moment more, as if considering something. Then - sensing Myungsoo’s discomfort - smiled (the tinkle in his eye still slightly dim). “Come on, it’s going to be a long afternoon. We should eat something.”
Myungsoo relaxed and smiled, latching onto his hyung’s arm and holding it close to his side as they followed after Berry.
It was only later that night, right before he slipped into sleep, that he remembered Woohyun’s slightly bitter remark about “favorites” but since he had no idea what it meant, he didn’t think too long about it, choosing sleep over pointless musings on his hyung’s odd behavior.
Cultural note: In Thailand (I have learned), people have such long, complicated names that everyone generally goes by a nickname. One is generally given at birth and then as a child/adult you can change it. As such, one of my coworkers has a first grader named "Pop-Pop" and I have a "Boss" in my class. (Really though I love Boss, he's precious and 11 and just flawless with his braces and chubby cheeks and mischief everything.) I'm not entirely sure how often nicknames change - it seems like it depends upon the person. So. There you have it.