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“god, i know, i know, it’s even worse than that” krystal groans, her head falling into her hands in defeat. what was she thinking, showing this monstrosity to any other human being, let alone an accomplished artist like her companion. but desperate times called for desperate measures, and she was more than desperate for someone to confirm to her that this noise was just that― noise.

“i’m glad i’m not the only one that thinks it’s awful,” she sighs after a moment, “but it still presents me with a whole new problem. i cannot put this out there. we, my group, we can’t put― this― out to the public, i think i’d rather die.”

she wasn’t exaggerating, either- for years, krystal had taken great pride in slowly learning the ins and outs of how her company crafted the music she and her members would then bring to life. eager to hear what the writers were crafting, she had asked to hear the latest demo… and found herself horrified by just how terrible it sounded. and now, here she was, playing it for another to vent her frustrations, because the complaints she’d made to the writers themselves had fallen on deaf ears. you’re just the idol, it’s your job to smile and sing, you get the money either way, what do you care how it sounds?

“this is a disaster. i don’t write often, but even i could write better than this. no one is going to take this sorry excuse for a song seriously, but this company… it’s always been like this, even since i was little. they give you things, you never get to create for yourself… shit, what do i do?”