Ship/Member: Mingyu POV, Minghao/Seokmin Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: soft rookie cameraman mingyu, overnight airport stays, peaceful acceptance that ur a filler team on a competitive reality show Permission to remix: Yes
This one might have ran away from me but you totally captured my nostalgia AND my 97z favoritism... not at all intended to have a mega serious tone i might just be bad at writing funnies LOL i hope it's at the very least sufficient<3
***
Mingyu had not expected the sheer amount of waiting that this gig entailed.
He was aware that the idealized “fast-paced travel around the world with a side of filming some fools running around completing tasks sometimes” image that had popped up in his head at first was faulty. He had still quietly thanked himself for the networking efforts from his internship, starry eyed, for getting him into the crew of a major show straight out of his degree. But god, the difference between the screen and the reality was never as apparent as the hours upon hours spent in stiff airport seats, staring into space, somehow still expected to have the camera up and ready to catch footage for whatever narrative was being built in post production.
Thankfully, his and the sound guy’s assigned contestants seemed like a better luck of the draw, if the things he had heard during one of the unofficial shit talking sessions during the crew’s hotel breakfasts were true. He had thought it over, then, tipping the last of the coffee into his mouth. Seokmin and Minghao were two men, roughly his own age, and if he were to guess what the editors would write in little subtitles under their names, it would be something flowery and vague like “Life Partners.” They were easily manageable and polite without being boring, to the point where Mingyu had to remember to keep himself professional sometimes. Like when he had almost gone off on a ramble upon hearing Minghao ask about the camera lens they used, or the camaraderie he felt when Seokmin hastily dismissed the bungee jump choice at a Detour.
That’s the other thing: the job entailed that he would have had to have followed them up there. Having to stay within a regulated distance of contestants running for a cash prize while it’s just another day at work for you proves to be a workout, both mentally and physically. It’s typical, the way Mingyu would inadvertently end up soaking up everyone’s stress like a sponge.
It was the one thing he would have to complain about if he had the guts to speak up among the veteran camera crew, at those breakfasts. He was athletic, but perhaps not made for it. It showed frequently, like during the last leg: all 188 clumsy centimetres of him crumpled into the passenger seat of a shoddy taxi, just fucking praying to god that the look of desperation in Seokmin’s eyes at the notion of running out of money for the ride was not a sign he was actually planning to beg the driver to let them off the hook. (He didn’t have to. The crew carried an extra credit card for emergency situations like these, but Mingyu was not sure he would be able to stomach the sight before they could intervene. Turns out Seokmin was just being paranoid and very ready to sacrifice his pride. Thinking about it makes Mingyu feel ill, but mostly because he can’t convince himself that he wouldn’t have done the same.)
There would, however, not be much more of this.
A series of minor missteps had caused them to slip behind, narrowly missing the opportunity to book a flight that carried the last couple of teams just ahead of them. A classic, Mingyu had heard from a more weathered producer after the same fate befell another team a couple rounds ago. It made for fun drama for the screen, he had said.
Mingyu is not having fun. They’d been told that the next available flight was in the morning, and he did not feel any satisfaction about catching their reaction on camera.
That’s where he’s sitting now. Barely lit by a never-ending sunrise, in an empty airport, lens set on Seokmin and Minghao. The sound guy comes back from taking a call from the producers, and whispers the news to him: the second team has arrived at the Pit Stop, with more expected to trickle in in the coming hours. At this point, it’s a question of whether they’ll even let their team finish or if they'll cut their pitiful flounder short at the airport.
As per the rules, Seokmin and Minghao have not been informed of this, but there’s this feeling that they’ve known for a while. They haven’t spoken much, idly leaning on each other in a way that might have felt too personal if he hadn’t seen it all for the last week or so, or if the numbness of sleep deprivation wasn’t sitting on his brain like a fog. Mingyu manages to wonder for a second, if they’ll make him be an extra in any of the future challenges, if he’ll have to film Seokmin and Minghao clapping and smiling for the winners in the final episode. He hopes he gets to sleep better. He hopes he gets to pick up his own camera.
His coworker slumps back down and makes a face at him, shrugging. You know how it is. Right.
Another eternity passes. The sun has not moved, and the loudspeaker cracks open the stagnant air.
"Flight 26 departing from Gate 5 is experiencing technical issues and will be delayed. New departure time is calculated to be 10:22 AM. We thank you for your understanding."
They don’t move. Seokmin tilts his head upwards, the sides of his mouth tugging down. His eyes go shiny. Mingyu has seen this before.
Minghao moves to embrace him, mumbling something like, hey, why, thumb to his cheek.
“I’m such an idiot,” sniffs Seokmin, mouth cracking open into a wide smile. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
Minghao just laughs, warm, clinging on to him. He’s draped across him, hand finding Seokmin’s. He raises his head to kiss him, and rests there.
Mingyu subtly, sheepishly, slips the lens cover onto his camera.
[FILL] In-betweens
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: soft rookie cameraman mingyu, overnight airport stays, peaceful acceptance that ur a filler team on a competitive reality show
Permission to remix: Yes
This one might have ran away from me but you totally captured my nostalgia AND my 97z favoritism... not at all intended to have a mega serious tone i might just be bad at writing funnies LOL i hope it's at the very least sufficient<3
***
Mingyu had not expected the sheer amount of waiting that this gig entailed.
He was aware that the idealized “fast-paced travel around the world with a side of filming some fools running around completing tasks sometimes” image that had popped up in his head at first was faulty. He had still quietly thanked himself for the networking efforts from his internship, starry eyed, for getting him into the crew of a major show straight out of his degree. But god, the difference between the screen and the reality was never as apparent as the hours upon hours spent in stiff airport seats, staring into space, somehow still expected to have the camera up and ready to catch footage for whatever narrative was being built in post production.
Thankfully, his and the sound guy’s assigned contestants seemed like a better luck of the draw, if the things he had heard during one of the unofficial shit talking sessions during the crew’s hotel breakfasts were true. He had thought it over, then, tipping the last of the coffee into his mouth. Seokmin and Minghao were two men, roughly his own age, and if he were to guess what the editors would write in little subtitles under their names, it would be something flowery and vague like “Life Partners.” They were easily manageable and polite without being boring, to the point where Mingyu had to remember to keep himself professional sometimes. Like when he had almost gone off on a ramble upon hearing Minghao ask about the camera lens they used, or the camaraderie he felt when Seokmin hastily dismissed the bungee jump choice at a Detour.
That’s the other thing: the job entailed that he would have had to have followed them up there. Having to stay within a regulated distance of contestants running for a cash prize while it’s just another day at work for you proves to be a workout, both mentally and physically. It’s typical, the way Mingyu would inadvertently end up soaking up everyone’s stress like a sponge.
It was the one thing he would have to complain about if he had the guts to speak up among the veteran camera crew, at those breakfasts. He was athletic, but perhaps not made for it. It showed frequently, like during the last leg: all 188 clumsy centimetres of him crumpled into the passenger seat of a shoddy taxi, just fucking praying to god that the look of desperation in Seokmin’s eyes at the notion of running out of money for the ride was not a sign he was actually planning to beg the driver to let them off the hook. (He didn’t have to. The crew carried an extra credit card for emergency situations like these, but Mingyu was not sure he would be able to stomach the sight before they could intervene. Turns out Seokmin was just being paranoid and very ready to sacrifice his pride. Thinking about it makes Mingyu feel ill, but mostly because he can’t convince himself that he wouldn’t have done the same.)
There would, however, not be much more of this.
A series of minor missteps had caused them to slip behind, narrowly missing the opportunity to book a flight that carried the last couple of teams just ahead of them. A classic, Mingyu had heard from a more weathered producer after the same fate befell another team a couple rounds ago. It made for fun drama for the screen, he had said.
Mingyu is not having fun. They’d been told that the next available flight was in the morning, and he did not feel any satisfaction about catching their reaction on camera.
That’s where he’s sitting now. Barely lit by a never-ending sunrise, in an empty airport, lens set on Seokmin and Minghao. The sound guy comes back from taking a call from the producers, and whispers the news to him: the second team has arrived at the Pit Stop, with more expected to trickle in in the coming hours. At this point, it’s a question of whether they’ll even let their team finish or if they'll cut their pitiful flounder short at the airport.
As per the rules, Seokmin and Minghao have not been informed of this, but there’s this feeling that they’ve known for a while. They haven’t spoken much, idly leaning on each other in a way that might have felt too personal if he hadn’t seen it all for the last week or so, or if the numbness of sleep deprivation wasn’t sitting on his brain like a fog. Mingyu manages to wonder for a second, if they’ll make him be an extra in any of the future challenges, if he’ll have to film Seokmin and Minghao clapping and smiling for the winners in the final episode. He hopes he gets to sleep better. He hopes he gets to pick up his own camera.
His coworker slumps back down and makes a face at him, shrugging. You know how it is. Right.
Another eternity passes. The sun has not moved, and the loudspeaker cracks open the stagnant air.
"Flight 26 departing from Gate 5 is experiencing technical issues and will be delayed. New departure time is calculated to be 10:22 AM. We thank you for your understanding."
They don’t move. Seokmin tilts his head upwards, the sides of his mouth tugging down. His eyes go shiny. Mingyu has seen this before.
Minghao moves to embrace him, mumbling something like, hey, why, thumb to his cheek.
“I’m such an idiot,” sniffs Seokmin, mouth cracking open into a wide smile. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
Minghao just laughs, warm, clinging on to him. He’s draped across him, hand finding Seokmin’s. He raises his head to kiss him, and rests there.
Mingyu subtly, sheepishly, slips the lens cover onto his camera.