Sung Jiwon’s day, at 21 years old, was extraordinarily ordinary. Classes, classes, classes, and more practice. Acting, dancing, singing. “You know none of this is going to work anyway, right? Why are you trying so hard?” He just really loved to sing. Even simple praise like “Jiwon, you’re such a good singer” was enough to keep him happy all day long. His trainee period had been anything but short. He’d known exactly what he wanted from a young age, and he was aware that his looks were decent enough, so he had entered the company fairly quickly. “Jiwon, I’m not just saying this because you’re my grandson—you’re truly beautiful. Good things are bound to happen to you, so make sure you only speak beautiful words and listen to beautiful stories.” That was what his grandmother always said. He had answered her with tears before, and at other times, with a wide smile as he hugged her tightly. But reality was never quite so kind. ‘Grandma, I’m sorry.’ “You’ve been here this long and still haven’t debuted—don’t you get it? It’s not happening for you.” He’d clawed his way into the center position through sheer hard work, only to have it snatched away. And when he reclaimed first place in today’s monthly evaluation, all he got was that kind of response. “Aren’t you tired of this? Because I’m fucking tired of watching your clingy ass latching on like a cockroach.” The guy in front of him was clearly below average in both looks and skills, yet somehow always ended up on the debut team. Maybe that’s why, every time he looked at him, it felt like his own long, grueling training was being stomped on. ‘Would it even be worth it... to debut in the same group as someone ?’ At this point, he didn’t know anymore. But one thing was certain—the guy was definitely not good for him. “Yeah, I guess it’s not fun.” At some point, the final act of Sung Jiwon’s day had become arguing with fellow trainees who didn’t know the first thing about respect. “Is it supposed to be fun watching you flail around every day?” Just one comment was enough to make the guy’s face turn red and blue in a flash. Pretty entertaining, actually. He didn’t like hurling curses or getting into toxic fights, thought they didn’t suit him—but he was damn good at shutting people {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} like that down. “Instead of selling your body, why don’t you just practice?” He looked down at the dumbfounded face that couldn’t even form a comeback, then spun around and walked out of the company building. Honestly, he’d noticed that his nerves had been extra frayed lately. It wasn’t hard to guess why. D.go had recently started pushing a new boy group project. Last time, he’d been told he didn’t match the group’s image. Before that, he was “too young.” He’d been slapped with more than ten different excuses for “not being good enough.” He knew better than anyone that this was his last shot. As soon as he opened the front door, his grandmother’s voice called out to him. He rushed to the master bedroom and cheerfully massaged her shoulders. “It was great, of course.” Sung Jiwon flashed a textbook smile. Even if the family was financially comfortable, the absence of parents left a shadow that never quite faded. His grandmother always treated him with extra care. “You’ve been looking busy lately, my baby.” “Yeah, I made it into the debut team.” “Oh? Are they treating you well?” “There’s an executive I trust and follow...” His gaze lingered on the deepening wrinkles around his grandmother’s eyes. They looked like they’d formed from all the worrying she’d done for him, and that thought made his heart ache. But he could still endure it—for now. “I’ve got to give it my all.” Her wrinkles deepened a little more, and her eyes crinkled sweetly. “Yes, yes. There’s no one as precious as our Jiwon. But don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” Jiwon took every one of her words to heart. Things might not have been going well, but he didn’t want to bring her more worry than she already carried. She stroked his cheek lovingly as he gave his gentle reply. “But come home early tomorrow, okay? It’s your birthday. I’ll make all your favorite dishes.” One day, Executive Jo called Jiwon aside. “We’re doing your profile shoot again.” Something felt off about the awkward smile on Jo’s face. “I already did it last month, though.” “Well, we need a new look. The company’s next boy group is going to be a performance-centered team, and your current profile has too soft an image. Oh, do you have other plans today?” Today was his birthday. He remembered his grandma asking him to come home early. But after a beat, he slowly shook his head. It wasn’t like doing another photo shoot was a big deal. “Great. I’ll take you there.” As if he’d been waiting for that answer, Executive Jo quickly slung an arm over Jiwon’s shoulder and urged him toward the parking lot. “Huh? You’re coming with me, sir?” “Yeah. Sometimes I like to, you know?” Jiwon was surprised by Jo’s behavior, which was slightly different from usual. But in the end, he followed his lead. No matter how many times his debut had been crushed, the reason he’d stayed here was because of Executive Jo. In a place so rotten and festering, he was the only adult Jiwon trusted. “Thanks again for everything.” That day too—he believed him. Even if it felt a little out of the ordinary, it could still be brushed off as a small gesture of kindness. “Eventually, even Seong Ji—got inv—.” “They’re all the same—looked clean at fi—, but in the end, rea—.” As they waited for the elevator to go to the underground garage, whispers from other trainees drifted over from behind them. It was the kind of thing he’d heard a thousand times before, but somehow it felt ominous this time. Jiwon hesitated for a moment before discreetly starting a recording app on his phone. He felt a little guilty, as if he were betraying Executive Jo’s trust—but he reminded himself that there was no harm in being cautious. Sitting in the front passenger seat of a fancy foreign car, Jiwon gazed out at the buildings flashing past. All he could think about was how to finish the shoot quickly and get home. “...I heard you’ve been working really hard lately.” “I need to work even harder, haha.” Breaking the silence, Executive Jo spoke. Jiwon smiled reflexively, like always. Hard work never betrays. Even if he wavered sometimes, he firmly believed that the time and effort he’d put in would eventually pay off. No—truthfully, clinging to that belief was all he had left. The car that was supposed to be taking him to the photo studio stopped in front of an unfamiliar hotel. Jiwon looked around, confused, and Jo handed him a small envelope. He hesitated, unwilling to accept it, but Jo pressed it into his hand. The moment he felt the weight, he knew what this was. “I really care about you. I didn’t want to push you into this. But the company’s not doing so well right now.” “If things keep going , you won’t debut again. The whole project might get scrapped. Let’s be real—there are tons of kids out there who want to be celebrities. You’re going to throw this chance away?” The envelope in Jiwon’s hand began to crumple. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novęlfire.net In other words: if you don’t go along, we’ll replace you. After a pause, Jo spoke again in a soft, coaxing tone. “...Just go in. Call me when it’s done. I’m sure nothing bad will happen—for either of us.” Jiwon wanted to speak up, wanted to push back—but the words wouldn’t come. “Don’t forget your hat.” Like he was possessed, Jiwon got out of the car and stepped into the hotel lobby. He passed under the crystal chandeliers scattering rainbow light and sank into a sofa in the first-floor lounge. True to its luxury status, the leather cushions molded to his body with a sickening comfort. The view from beneath the brim of his hat was too vividly cruel. That’s when he remembered the envelope he’d still been clutching. He opened it with trembling hands—and inside was a key card, engraved with a three-digit room number. He was sitting in a place that smelled nice, surrounded by warmth, but it felt like he’d been dumped in a sewer. So much for a photo shoot. His time, his effort, his beliefs, and even the one person he’d trusted. All of it had collapsed in an instant. “Wow... So this is how it ends, huh?” He let out a bitter laugh and pulled out his phone to stop the recording. The more he thought about what had just happened, the drier his throat felt. Sung Jiwon wasn’t an idiot. He wanted to chase his dream—but not at this price. ‘Should I switch agencies?’ But if he did, getting into a major company would be impossible. D.go would do everything to blacklist him. He threw that idea out immediately. It would feel satisfying... but that’s all. They’d sue, or even if they didn’t, he’d never set foot in the industry again. ‘What about blackmail?’ Maybe if he waved the recording around, they’d stop pulling this kind of shit. But they’d probably just use it as an excuse to kick him off the debut team—or even if he did debut, they’d never promote him. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to survive, constantly fighting alone in a den of snakes like that. No matter how he sliced it, every option felt suffocating. The world looked black and white. Jiwon decided to throw it all away. ‘Let’s just end this.’ He’d waited too long, hoping for something in return. It was time to stop groveling over an uncertain tomorrow. As he made up his mind and reached for the keycard— Someone’s voice rang out, calling for someone. It wasn’t his name, so he slowly stood and adjusted his cap— “Hey, Chulsu. Where you going?” “I just got here, y’know.” A strong grip pressed down on his shoulder. The voice was a relaxed mid-range tone, smooth and close. “Not happy to see me? I’ve been waiting for you.” He turned his head slightly to see the person. They were wearing a cap pulled low, just like him. As Jiwon frowned, the guy lifted his face slightly. Even someone like Jiwon—who’d been around big-name idols for years—briefly mistook him for a celebrity. His features were striking. But his complexion was pale, his eyes shadowed, his expression cold. The man’s mouth curled into an easy grin. “I’m the guy here to stir shit up.”