muse. | sunsun

✰ 003 | therapy is for white people

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sunghoons pov

  I fucking hate interviews.

  If you know me, then you know that I hate a lot of things, obnoxious-neck-beard-podcast-interview pricks most of all.

Just to think that the source of their income comes from them sitting on their ass in some musty, not ventilated studio with their bestfriend of ten years who they swore up and down that they'd start a podcast with, talking about miniscule subjects like if BBL's are the devils work, or if women are obligated to give an incel like them a chance.

Then on an off-chance like this one, they'll invite a brain dead celebrity onto their podcast to continue preaching their blasphemy to the masses.

It's a vicious cycle, and it irks me really...

So why am I currently wasting my time, sitting in this podcast studio chair?

Even I can't answer my own dumbass question.

Fuck my life.

The intro music come to an end and I find myself digging my fingernails into the chair, leaving an indent as I exhaled. That fuckass Rock Central theme song had played for three times already, alongside many other advertisements. I was on the verge of grabbing one of the many mics in front of me and bludgeoning myself to death.

But I guess I chickened out.

My bandmates sit on all sides of me. We're facing Nick Marzino and Jerry Fieldman, the hosts of Rock Central; a podcast that peaked in the 2000s but fell off centuries ago. Only middled aged divorcèes and people like my dad tune into the podcast every morning on the radio before clocking  into their mundane 9 to 5 cubicle job.

Plasma Records claimed that an interview with Rock Central would open us to newer opportunities, and result in us being taken more seriously in terms of becoming a household name in rock.

I call bullshit.

"Okay! We're good to go" The man behind the huge glass window pane signals to the hosts.

Jerry sits up and clears his throat, looking at us all eagerly. I fake an excited smile. Jake never has to fake any kind of look, he just naturally looks smiley. Ni-ki looks tired, he has bags underneath his eyes most likely from playing fucking valorant all night. I know this because his room is next to mine, and I can hear the music and see the obnoxious computer light shining from underneath his bedroom door.

  Also, Jake came into his room last night and told him to get some shut eye.. he's always trying to parent Ni-ki. Well actually Jake Sim parents everybody, it's kind of his thing.

"Good-morning Rock Central! We have some very special folks with us today, everybody say hello to Achilles Heel!"

Everybody does a quick round of applause and Jerry chuckles happily. "Awesome name by the way- who came up with it? Or was it a group effort?" He inquires. Jerry is this skinny white guy with ginger hair and age lines deepening on his forehead. His co-star beside him, Nick, is a rounder guy with a scruffy beard.

  My bandmates all look at me with hopeful eyes, but I don't say anything. "Sunghoon came up with it actually." Jake chimes in, saving my awkward ass.