Between the Lines ~DISCONTINUED~
Description
Sungjae must admit, he was shy, and he found it hard to express himself and what he really felt inside. But it never meant that he liked her less than she liked him. Because if anything, he liked her more than anyone could ever imagine.
“Love starts when you least expect it.”
A Sungjae ♡ Joy Love Story
A WGM retelling:
In all honesty, as the two of them sat on the chairs arranged on the stage for their special performance, he couldn’t help but feel reluctant in actually starting. If he delayed, if he doesn’t say a word, if he just sat there and enjoy her presence as leisurely as he possibly could, would their time extend?
But it was a foolish thought, he knew that. He knew that so well, but why? He knows, he knows that he’s only delaying the inevitable. WGM is just a show; their session would end sooner or later whether he liked it or not. However, even though they lasted longer than what they originally thought, his heart had gotten greedy. He wanted to spend more time with her, acting like a cute couple, having fun, seeing her cute expressions...finally treating her how he knew he should treat her to make her happy. He regretted the times where he took things slow and calming their pace. He regretted how they couldn't finish her bucketlist because their time was up.
He wanted more time, but he can't. They can't. They're on for long. It's time to give way for a new couple. He knew that. Gosh, he knew all of that.
He should just be thankful that they lasted that long, that they were able to film for 11 months, that they were able to get to know each other and got acquainted with one another. He should just be thankful, and yet there he was, sitting awkwardly on his seat, fidling with his mic, reluctant to start, reluctant to do anything…reluctant to film. He wanted something to occur; a minor mishap, malfunctioning gadgets, or maybe even an injured staff (though he knew that was going too far), but they were all rather unlikely to happen. So in response to his mixed emotions, he steeled his resolve and waited, unsure whether to smile or to frown.
As the director said his cue and the lights behind them flashed dimly, covering them in a hazy halo of white, he wore his childish persona and held his smile. He mustn’t frown, he mustn’t cry, he should end the show with a smile, because that’s what performers do, that’s what they do.
So he smiled, looking around playfully as if the thought of what was to come hadn’t frightened him… hadn’t scared him. But it did, he could hear his heart scream selfishly. And it seems that she understood—that she saw through him, because when their eyes met, she laughed awkwardly.
And he knew what she meant even as she nonchalantly commented about their awkwardness in a condensed "What's this?"
She didn’t want this to end either.
Nothing seemed out of ordinary as the group's car travelled from their last schedule towards their dorm. It was already dark at that time; a sparse sprinkle of stars dotted the night sky as the moon shone dimly behind the clouds. It was probably around a quarter past midnight and the members were comically passed out inside the car. The maknae, who claimed the passenger seat, was surprisingly the only one wide awake with hands busy fiddling with the phone, playing Floppy Bird even though the hype for the game had long since ceased. But it didn't deter him as he continued playing, trying his best to beat the high score Changsub had set, because really, it was his phone and it hurts his ego that the score written on the screen wasn't his to claim.
It was almost amusing how focused he was on the game, clicking his tongue every now and then whenever he failed and digging his back against the seat as he tenses up whenever he knows that he was this close to beating the score—kind of like now.
Sungjae's brows were furrowed together as he concentrated, practically ignoring the world and not minding how their manager had stopped the car at the red light. He hadn't even noticed how their manager glanced at him with a semi-hesitant and semi-worried gaze, assessing if it was better to break the news to him then and there or if it was better to wait.
The manager looked at the traffic lights again and saw that the time was still ticking from a 157 and so decided to say it now than to keep delaying it, "Sungjae-ya," He started, startling the maknae and making him lose his game.
"Aish!" Sungjae frowned as the 'Game Over' sign flashed shamelessly on the screen, glaring at it as if doing so would change the score...or melt the device into a pathetic puddle of plastic goo, none of which were likely to happen but it was worth a try. He then directed his gaze at the one that disturbed him, pouting his lips as he started forming the words in his head of what would later become a whiney rant. Unfortunately for him, the offender barely gave him the time to open his mouth when he continued, "MBC's producer is inviting you on their show."
Sungjae blinked, not really sure how to react as he leaned back on his seat, "Ok." He replied.
"You don't get it maknae-ya." Their manager sighed, "I'd honestly prefer it if you reject the offer but the PD-nim was specifically asking for you that's why the management couldn't turn in one of CLC for the show instead. We tried, but they insisted, they said that it should be no other than you." He glanced at the stoplight, watching as it slowly ticked from a 96. "But the choice is yours to make."
Hearing that the show's PD-nim was the one that specifically asked for him unsurprisingly bolstered his confidence, "Hyung," he smiled cheekily, "don't you have trust in me? I'm sure I can do the show well."
"I'm not worried about that Sungjae-ya. It's just that the show's really notorious."
"For what?"
The manager stared worriedly at him before shaking his head, hoping that it would dismiss his worries as well, "Aniya. It's nothing." He mumbled, stepping on the accelerator as soon as the green light lit.
Sungjae doesn't really get why he was so worried because if they were sending one of CLC instead, then that would mean that the show was well-recieved despite being notorious, right? But he supposed that was exactly the reason why. If it could help boost the popularity of CLC, then it meant that it also had the capability to break his image. Variety shows are powerful like that. "What show is it?" He asked him instead.
"We got married."
Foreword
Writer's Nook:
I've been toying with this idea for months now and as I'm writing this, I'm still about to actually pen down what would soon be chapter one.
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