Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Scandalous and Cold
by nileyna @ lj
Jessica’s sister.
The two words are like oxygen; surrounding her wherever she goes, something inevitable, but unlike oxygen, it isn’t vital, it isn’t something that she needs. She doesn’t want this label; she doesn’t want this insecurity that makes her feel like she’ll never sum up to their expectations.
It leaves her hovering on the frame, falling off the edge; she’s struggling to find meaning and choking on air all at once, not knowing who would save her this time (not her sister, not him, not them) because she isn’t strong enough to save herself.
Krystal tries to remember the exact moment, the exact period, in which she lost her heart and soul to him and to the world; she attempts to retrieve the memory but fails because maybe she gradually lost it in large amounts that she couldn’t control because this is what it’s supposed to be like.
(She’s seen it before. Jessica was as sweet and witty as Sooyoung back then, but she realized that if you play it safe, you get swallowed up at the back; in this business, it is better to be scandalous and cold because you get to stand out and you get to actually matter.)
But maybe Minho isn’t made for this business, because he doesn’t do scandalous and cold.
“Good job, Soojung!” Minho regards her with a nod and one of his infamous habitual smiles as he catches her backstage. Not noticing that it’s him, Krystal replies tonelessly with a curt and barely audible Thanks.
No, Krystal, Minho doesn’t like scandalous and cold.
The moment she realizes her mistake, it is already too late; his eyes hollow out automatically and his lips press into a firm line. “I didn’t notice it’s you. I’m so sorry, Minho-oppa,” Krystal bows staggeringly because she is afraid of losing her grip on him (it is ironic, really; losing something she never really had).
“That’s alright, Soojung.” There’s that smile again, but it’s already different. It has become a smile that is just for her, a replica of his genuine smile; a phony, meaningless smile with affection only on the surface that has been set aside to pull out only when he sees her.
That particular smile never emerges when Yuri is around.
Strangely enough, that one time (that one time that leaves a permanent mark) when Krystal walked in on them together was not during a moment of any personal intimacy; they were on the couch in Girls’ Generation’s practice room, laughing about something only they knew about.
But the insane splendor of the scene sort of split her heart in half (she would offer the other half to him, but she’s pretty sure that he has already gotten the half he wanted) and made her gulp for air because it’s this kind of pretty nobody can spoil.
“Hi,” Yuri’s eyes brighten as she spots the younger girl peeking into the room, “are you looking for someone?” Krystal is at a loss for words, but since she is a self-trained professional, she offers them both a winsome grin and answered, “I was just looking for Sica-unnie. She’s not here, anyway, so, bye!”
(They should’ve noticed that something was wrong; Krystal never looks for Jessica because Jessica never looks for her and there’s this unspoken strain of You’re my sister but you never look out for me between them.)
“Going on a date?” teases Krystal as she spots Minho and Yuri huddled together and pulling on their jackets after practice. “Don’t tell manager-hyung,” Minho grins and Krystal’s breath hitches because it is the Yuri smile; bright and beaming and so fucking smitten.
Krystal rolls her eyes, makes the ‘my-lips-are-sealed’ movement with her fingers and watches them as they leave.
Minho opens the door and lets Yuri walk out first like the true gentleman he is; their fingers are linked together and it is like love photographed, the way he bends down and brushes his lips across her hair and the content smile she wears.
(Actually, Krystal couldn’t offer half of her heart to him to begin with; she already threw everything—her heart, soul and feelings—out when she signed on to become the plasticized, scandalous and cold Krystal of f(x), sister of Girls’ Generation’s Jessica, instead of dainty, happy Jung Soojung, little sister of Jung Suyeon.)
Jessica’s sister.
The two words are like oxygen; surrounding her wherever she goes, something inevitable, but unlike oxygen, it isn’t vital, it isn’t something that she needs. She doesn’t want this label; she doesn’t want this insecurity that makes her feel like she’ll never sum up to their expectations.
It leaves her hovering on the frame, falling off the edge; she’s struggling to find meaning and choking on air all at once, not knowing who would save her this time (not her sister, not him, not them) because she isn’t strong enough to save herself.
Krystal tries to remember the exact moment, the exact period, in which she lost her heart and soul to him and to the world; she attempts to retrieve the memory but fails because maybe she gradually lost it in large amounts that she couldn’t control because this is what it’s supposed to be like.
(She’s seen it before. Jessica was as sweet and witty as Sooyoung back then, but she realized that if you play it safe, you get swallowed up at the back; in this business, it is better to be scandalous and cold because you get to stand out and you get to actually matter.)
But maybe Minho isn’t made for this business, because he doesn’t do scandalous and cold.
“Good job, Soojung!” Minho regards her with a nod and one of his infamous habitual smiles as he catches her backstage. Not noticing that it’s him, Krystal replies tonelessly with a curt and barely audible Thanks.
No, Krystal, Minho doesn’t like scandalous and cold.
The moment she realizes her mistake, it is already too late; his eyes hollow out automatically and his lips press into a firm line. “I didn’t notice it’s you. I’m so sorry, Minho-oppa,” Krystal bows staggeringly because she is afraid of losing her grip on him (it is ironic, really; losing something she never really had).
“That’s alright, Soojung.” There’s that smile again, but it’s already different. It has become a smile that is just for her, a replica of his genuine smile; a phony, meaningless smile with affection only on the surface that has been set aside to pull out only when he sees her.
That particular smile never emerges when Yuri is around.
Strangely enough, that one time (that one time that leaves a permanent mark) when Krystal walked in on them together was not during a moment of any personal intimacy; they were on the couch in Girls’ Generation’s practice room, laughing about something only they knew about.
But the insane splendor of the scene sort of split her heart in half (she would offer the other half to him, but she’s pretty sure that he has already gotten the half he wanted) and made her gulp for air because it’s this kind of pretty nobody can spoil.
“Hi,” Yuri’s eyes brighten as she spots the younger girl peeking into the room, “are you looking for someone?” Krystal is at a loss for words, but since she is a self-trained professional, she offers them both a winsome grin and answered, “I was just looking for Sica-unnie. She’s not here, anyway, so, bye!”
(They should’ve noticed that something was wrong; Krystal never looks for Jessica because Jessica never looks for her and there’s this unspoken strain of You’re my sister but you never look out for me between them.)
“Going on a date?” teases Krystal as she spots Minho and Yuri huddled together and pulling on their jackets after practice. “Don’t tell manager-hyung,” Minho grins and Krystal’s breath hitches because it is the Yuri smile; bright and beaming and so fucking smitten.
Krystal rolls her eyes, makes the ‘my-lips-are-sealed’ movement with her fingers and watches them as they leave.
Minho opens the door and lets Yuri walk out first like the true gentleman he is; their fingers are linked together and it is like love photographed, the way he bends down and brushes his lips across her hair and the content smile she wears.
(Actually, Krystal couldn’t offer half of her heart to him to begin with; she already threw everything—her heart, soul and feelings—out when she signed on to become the plasticized, scandalous and cold Krystal of f(x), sister of Girls’ Generation’s Jessica, instead of dainty, happy Jung Soojung, little sister of Jung Suyeon.)
Labels: fanfic