Chapter Text
It was a bit . . . unusual to get used to, at first.
There were only so many ways that training a group of young, inexperienced boys who'd neither met each other nor ever stepped foot outside the the packs they’d grown up in could have gone, especially if they were banding together under a company that planned to use them as its last saving grace. That, paired with the fact that its meager staff now had a handful of freshly of age, barely presented males who were eager and excited and willing to learn was no doubt a recipe fit for disaster just waiting to happen.
But, somewhere down the line of contracts and training camps and calculating limited funding to allow brand new first times, they managed to make it work nevertheless.
It helped that they were all so close in age. Their likeliness contributed massively towards their developing relationships, and soon after just one session of getting to know each other while sat on the floor of a basement level dance studio with snack wrappers and half-empty pizza boxes littered around the small space, friendships were already blossoming and trust was slowly being established between the ones they’d have to spend the rest of their lives with until the unforeseeable end—like eight baby seeds being sowed in nourishing spring soil.
They shared stories about past trainee experiences, and expressed mutual concerns for their futures in such an industry as the one they were being shaped to conquer; firsthand insight into the early workings of their company and conversations held in the dead of night as they all stared at the same ceiling.
They corrected body lines in reflections, split their allowances in order to meet a set budget, and bickered over lunches under the summer sun of a country entirely new to them all. Bundled together in a cheap little rental not too unlike their own dorm back at home as they worked hard to prove that expenses weren’t going to waste and regrets or doubts about their determination wouldn’t be given the chance to fester. That they were adept enough to make it possible.
That they were worthy of being believed in.
They built bonds with the ones around them based on both kindness and respect, from the noonas they gossiped with while being told to sit still as a brush patted around their eyes to the hyungs that helped them plan their first ever choreography, and even the halmeoni who ran the tonkatsu place next door, who always pinched their cheeks and cooed in appreciation whenever they cleaned up after themselves without needing to be asked.
They addressed their CEO with nothing but eternal gratitude towards the man who decided to take the risk of giving them such an opportunity, and got nothing but genuine, encouraging affection in return: reassuring smiles to ease meeting-room-addled nerves and pats on the back a job well done while they caught their breath after being monitored.
They took the small, sacred privileges being offered to them and made it last as they ran miles. Debuted with dazzling grins and teary eyes on a showcase stage surrounded by an audience that vowed to stay with them until the very end, and set out to make their company proud afterward, whether it be rookie interviews or promotion appearances or shortened time on music shows performing for half-dead crowds that didn’t even know their names.
They trained their vocal cords raw, danced their hearts out, and pushed their bodies to their utmost limits, all so that they would never come off as ungrateful or unappreciative in the slightest. That they’d forever be seen as the humble, courteous representatives they were honoured to be from then onward.
And, yes, there were times where they felt safe enough to drop the facade they wore as soon as they were back in the safety of their dorm, where they then argued over the stupidest things like toothpaste smeared across the sink or stolen shampoo or loads of dirty laundry sitting unattended in the corridors without having to worry about bare faces or minding their language. They fought like the boys they were, over potato chips and missing sweaters and running the air conditioning for too long when everyone else was cold. Over sharp frustration and too-quick steps in a practice room and misunderstood feelings discarded in the moment.
But, eventually, they learnt how to sit and listen instead of talking over one another to avoid getting scolded. How to regulate and negotiate and communicate where they were quick to point fingers or claw at each other’s throats first.
Eventually, they settled into the makeshift patriarchy of the group chosen for them, and took the stern chidings of their leader in stride even if they left them sulking by the end with orders to control their upset—or, worse, fleeing to different bedrooms in search of welcoming embraces and consolation for genuine hurt.
Eventually, they learnt more about the unfamiliar subgenders they weren’t exposed to or properly educated on beforehand, and how to navigate through the chaos of eight clashing personalities huddled within one dorm. Indulged instincts and softened urges and trained their noses to get accustomed to mingled scents.
Eventually, they stopped viewing themselves as mismatched pieces of an unlikely whole, and started morphing into a puzzle that fit despite all of its wonky edges; shared clothing and dinner at the kitchen table and blankets and limbs strung across the living room floor, open hearts and crowded mattresses and multiple wrists and chins dragged along barely-risen glands.
Eventually, eventually, eventually, as planned by manifesting wishes cast upon the same star, the strings of fate that wound around their fingers to bring them together, and destiny her very self, they became all each other ever knew.