In My Dreams (1)

"Park Joon-woo!" A scolding voice was loud over Joon-woo's drowsy sleeping state.

His neck ached as he sat himself up straight. His vision adjusted to the bright classroom. Desks of students in poorly worn uniforms surrounded him. Hand strung ties, thug-like faces, wrinkled undershirts, and a few stained jackets. 

Middle school? And he was Joon-woo. Why was he Joon-woo?

A mean-faced teacher frowned at him, "What have I told you about dozing off in my class?" She scolded him in front of the whole class of about forty to hear. 

Joon-woo felt his cheeks redden at the attention, though it felt… second hand. Like it wasn't his. Still in the process of deciphering the dream, biting at his words, a voice much squeakier than whatever voice Joon-woo had now, spoke up. 

"Sorry, it won't happen again." He assured in a shaky voice, though he didn't feel his mouth move. His voice didn't play in his ears like usual, but instead he heard it beside him like he was a different being in himself. 

The teacher scrunched her eyebrows, scrutinizing Joon-woo until the red burned like a fever throughout his face. She sighed and her gaze frustrated yet softening almost pitifully as Joon-woo felt his body let go a stifled yawn.

"Please talk to me after class."

–+–

Joon-woo blinked sleepy eyes, looking up at the popcorn ceiling tiles above him. 

Oh. Right. He had gotten a root touch up. 

He felt the products and foils in his dying hair, and reminded himself of his surroundings as much as possible. Trying to ground himself from the dream he had dreamed. 

Was that Joon-woo's life before possession? 

He gulped. He didn't think the past of this body would ever be anything more than a past. He thought Joon-woo before Ha-rin was some bum with a pretty face. The dream proved so, if real. Was the real Joon-woo a poor student? If he was balancing trainee life, the exhaustion illustrated was maybe that, or maybe nothing at all. 

He clenched his teeth, mind running with worries and possibilities. Kite had been missing for a week now. Carre was acting weird, yet not giving Joon-woo an inch to what was going on. Comeback preparations were heavy, Joon-woo was hungry and tired. They were yet to have a manager, and a daily change in make-shift managers was how they were lasting. 

Sure, Mr. Jeong getting fired was a large weight off all of their chests, but the idol life was still a toll taken with a grain of salt, and Joon-woo had signed up for it twice. A plus, however, was seeing the joy return to Ryeo Hyun's face at the news of Bo Jaesang being called in for a second interview. 

Joon-woo wasn't sure that having a friend as a manager was a good idea, as Bo Jaesang was younger than Ryeo Hyun and Mi Yong. Joon-woo preferred having a distant manager. One who didn't bond with the group, but did the job well enough to get them to places on time. 

He hummed as his dreary eyes felt as if a ten-pound weight had been added. They had returned to three hour nights of rest due to promotions. That wasn't the company's fault, but just the reality. There was a reality in their newfound care for ASCEND too. Reggie and Joon-woo still had to act lovey dovey for the cameras, stay side by side for an entire song about sex. They wanted to take better care of ASCEND because there was money in it, more business in it.

Joon-woo knew that in his core, though his bandmates seemed swooned by the company's efforts. Like the coffee trucks they sent to their concept photo and video shooting. 

Just as he felt his eyes shut, the breeze of a person peering down at his vulnerable figure awoke him. Joon-woo shot up, recognizing the silhouette as his own trauma for just a moment before seeing the outline of their manager of the day. 

The tall manager peered down at Joon-woo with concern, "Joon-woo-ssi, it's time to go for the music video shoot." 

Joon-woo nodded weakly, placing his feet on the ground in uncomfortable black boots. He went to push himself, at the usual speed he did, in a rush. 

His vision suddenly spotted, legs feeling blood-less as they buckled. It was his memory too, spotting on and off until he found himself against the couch again, shoulders in the hands of their makeshift manager. What was his name again?

Joon-woo's vision spun and blacked out enough for his whole body to feel numb. His hearing was fine, but his brain felt dumbed by hunger and exhaustion, making him unable to really comprehend the words being said. 

He felt footsteps in the ground, feeling the thumps in the momentum of the small vibrations in his feet. He was scared, too weak to express his dislike for the hands shaking his shoulders. His mouth refused to make a sound. 

It went dark for only a moment before his brain caught half a sentence. His chest burned at the light of the stylist's room and ate his eyes alive. 

His throat was too dry to speak, but he made the small action of shoving one of the hands away. 

"Don't touch m– Don't." He insisted in a scratchy voice. 

After the light settled in his gaze, he made eye contact with the blue-faced manager and shook his head. The stylist peered in next to the manager, holding out a cup of water, saying something of concern to the manager before looking at Joon-woo again.

It was then Joon-woo realized what had happened. 

He had passed out. 

"How long was I out for?" He asked, after gathering the power to speak. 

He insisted on taking the water into his own hands, though the manager tried to give it to him. He gestured for not a hand to touch him but his own. It took the stylist's insistence for the manager to fully understand Joon-woo's request.

The manager gulped, "Only a minute." He replied.

Joon-woo nodded slowly. 

"Okay. Good." He clenched his fists, "Just– give me a minute and we can go to that shoot." He said, making eye contact with the under-eyes of the manager only. 

The manager's mouth gaped at the words, "We should get you checked out–"

Joon-woo shook his head. 

"No." He insisted, annoyance creeping up on him with ease. He looked between the concerned stylist and frazzled manager with a light-headed sigh, "I don't want to disrupt our schedule."

The manager bit his lip in an inner-conflict. 

"Do you think you can last the whole day?"

Joon-woo nodded, though unsure if he really could. 

"I can, manager-nim." He replied. 

The manager, in a state of unsurity, nodded slowly. Though the stylist's expression seemed to disagree. Before he was helped to stand, he found a mandarin in his hand. He looked up to the stylist and questioned her without expressing it. 

"Please eat this on the way, Joon-woo-ssi." She didn't ask, but simply pleaded. 

Joon-woo looked at the woman who had done his hair at least four times now and assured her he would with a small tired nod. 

Words were hard to come by, he found, when he was the most tired. Unconsciously, he looked behind himself for his sponsors, finding nothing but dead air.

There were many things going on, and Joon-woo only knew how to deal with some of those things.

–+–

Kim Soyeon was a very simple woman. All it took to really get on her good side was an ASCEND album, or better yet, any Mi Yong photocard on her wishlist (she really wanted Mi Yong's week three broadcast card …). Her day brightened at any Meverse and Ticktock post, because they were really only getting short form content as of late. 

But it was a good change, in her humble opinion, as the members seemed a lot healthier during their public appearances now, as she had protested. She had created many Witter tags and spread them around like fire. Seeing her boys so gaunt was painful. How did Easy Entertainment let them go on like that for weeks? She was close to using her next paycheck on protest trucks!

Luckily the small company fixed themselves right up, as ASCEND was basically the only notable group they had. In Soyeon's opinion, fans are what control a company. It was their money these CEOS were gunning for. It was their support and their effort they looked for social-media wide.

On top of it all, it seemed ASCEND was preparing for a short form comeback. They were beginning to hide their hair during appearances and go a little silent on their social media. In Kim Soyeon's eyes, she knew what this meant. It meant that her boys had something up their sleeves and it was hot. 

She had led discussions on her now, more popularized Flight account, @miyongsleft_ball:

@miyongsleftball

Comeback time for our kids! 

11.4k likes 1.7 quotes 5.1k reposts

She attached a photo of ASCEND as a group walking with their heads covered in hoods or beanies. A new face of a manager walking beside them. 

@Roonwoo_Archives replying to @miyongsleftball

Yes !!!! but is that a new manager again lol

@gurls4baek replying to @miyongsleftball

They look so happyyyyyyy 🥹

She never paid much attention to managers, but upon closer inspection, it seemed the group did have a different manager than usual. Could Easy afford all of these managers? Or… 

Kim Soyeon sighed, brushing off the issues off her shoulder. As long as her boys were okay, she was. She smiled over the dull light of her lecture, preparing her funds for a new comeback excellently.