Block B are no strangers to this fact.

 

Taeil himself doesn't know how he'll ever live down his 'Rap God Taeil' performance on Weekly Idol, Kyung still copies his awful freestyle at every opportunity he finds. 

 

This one, however, might take the cake.

 

On the set of one of the newer idol programs, behind the multitude of cameras, lights, and boom mics, Taeil fidgets with his cheap cotton bowtie. Grimacing, he pulls it out from his neck an inch or two, giving him space to take a deep, tremulous breath. He's in the pants he showed up in, but they'd given him a huge black tuxedo jacket to fit over his sweater, one that's long enough to reach to just above his knees. It's stupidly broad in the shoulders, and his back is sweating, and he wishes desperately that this day was already over and he could sleep it all away.

 

'Well,' he thinks, looking across the studio stage, '-at least I'm not Jiho.'

 

Seated, arms crossed and pouting, Jiho huffs and glares at the floor. His feet, stuffed into the largest pair of white bridal heels that the production team could find, sit at an angle to each other in front of him. White lace falls in a fountain over his back, his veil. The plastic tiara it's attached too is nearly obscured by his tumble of blonde hair, but it's pink plastic jewels still glimmer faintly, even from across the room. The ridiculously poofy tutu that circles his slim hips completes his outfit, and accentuates how skinny his stick thin thighs are.

 

Taeil can't stop a giggle, doesn't even want to try. 

 

What a beautiful day for a wedding.