Kang Ichae considered himself a pretty decent person. And honestly, he was living a pretty decent life, too. Sure, it had taken a hell of a lot of hardship and resentment toward the world to get here—but these days, he was living with at least some sincerity. “Hyung!! What are you thinking about??” “Thinking the ice cream the maknae left in the freezer was delicious.” Once again, this was how he saw himself. Decent looks, solid skills, a sharp mind. He’d never really lacked anything from the moment he was born. ‘But it’s kinda boring.’ That full satisfaction eventually turned into dullness. Still, he was good at hiding things, and thanks to that, he’d managed to maintain a wise attitude through what was, deep down, a dry and boring life. Then someone far too eye-catching appeared in what had seemed like a smooth, predictable existence. “Noeul, are you living happily today, too?” “Haha, I’m doing great, too.” Seo Hoyun, who could throw around third-person speech, cheesy pet names like “baby” and “honey,” all while shamelessly layering on a good ten centimeters of cutesy fakeness—for Noeul. Just minutes ago, the guy had been sprawled lifelessly on the couch, ignoring everyone no matter how many times they called his name, and now the moment the camera was on, he was smiling like a star and chatting with fans. Kang Ichae squinted at the sheer slipperiness of it all, and Seo Hoyun peeked out of the camera’s frame and mouthed silently: “What are you looking at, you little shit.” At first, this fake-ass bastard seemed like a bulldozer who would barrel forward without a second thought as long as it served his goal. It was funny, and honestly necessary for The Dawn, so Ichae had let it slide—but the guy really did seem like cold metal. And yet, every now and then, he’d act in ways that reminded you he was human. Like when Jung Dajun got hurt during . “I’ll take responsibility, just come.” Realizing that, Kang Ichae finally started to really see the person called Seo Hoyun. The one who, more than anyone else, put his entire heart into The Dawn. The one who jumped headfirst into the others’ problems before they even asked. The one who, ironically, kept hiding all of his own. Ichae noticed. But he didn’t say anything. He even turned a blind eye to all the sneaky crap Hoyun was pulling. Since none of it seemed harmful to him personally, he ignored it. Even the way Hoyun treated him was strange. He made it seem like he was leaving him completely alone, and yet somehow always knew exactly what was going on and made sure he was taken care of. It was the first time Kang Ichae had met someone like that, and surprisingly, he didn’t find the feeling all that unpleasant. ...Until that one moment really pissed him off. “You stubborn bastard... Can’t you just let it go? I’m your hyung.” It was back when they were in Japan, and Ichae had been vomiting blood into the sink of their dorm bathroom. He was mostly just dumbfounded. How could someone puke up blood with no illness or injury? It made zero sense by Kang Ichae’s logic. But Seo Hoyun’s perfectly clean medical records were like a slap to the face. Still, he pushed those doubts to the back of his mind. It’s not like Hoyun would give him a straight answer anyway— ‘He’s human, too. Maybe there are things he wants to hide.’ —or at least, that’s what he’d thought back then. 【The black tide crashes in But after going through Shining Star Season 2, Ichae’s thoughts began to shift. Especially that final stage. Seo Hoyun had looked so close to breaking. 【All the way to the end Even if we don’t know what’s there】 And even in that state, Hoyun tried to carry it all on his own—and that started to feel frustrating. Even worse were the people who pretended to sympathize while riding the wave of his scandal, quietly feeding off his misery like it was entertainment. That, that made Kang Ichae fucking furious. And it made him reassess his understanding of Seo Hoyun—the guy he’d thought only ever pulled the strings he could control. Seo Hoyun was a fucking crazy bastard. Not just crazy—fucking crazy. The kind of crazy that needed an expletive just to measure it. He would tear himself to shreds without asking for help, without leaning on a single soul. At some point, Kang Ichae realized it. If Hoyun kept going , he was going to crash, and crash hard. So he stopped fuming, and started observing Seo Hoyun more closely—testing what made him tick. Because rushing it would only backfire. If Hoyun looked annoyed, Ichae would go poke him a bit. And since Hoyun did respond, Ichae felt a little relieved. But over time, he came to understand one thing: Seo Hoyun had never once told the truth to the person involved. ‘The beginning was better.’ Back then, at least he would openly threaten Kim Sunghyun with a villain edit or shout at Jung Dajun to speak clearly. Who knew what kind of mental shift he’d gone through. These days, he just smiled that cheeky smile in front of the members, and somehow everything would be resolved like magic. ‘As if anyone listens when you talk anyway.’ But then the plagiarism scandal broke. “Ichae-ssi, did you really plagiarize?” His first reaction was rage. Then a bitter laugh slipped out. But right after that came the thought—this was the perfect time to set a trap for Seo Hoyun. ‘Is this... an opportunity?’ Lifting his head, Kang Ichae beamed at the staffer from the management team. “You mean the unreleased song?” ‘Yeah. This is my chance.’ To fix Seo Hoyun’s goddamn habits. Seo Hoyun’s face turned even paler than usual, like he’d just heard some shitty joke. “What kind of bullshit is that. You delusional or something? I searched your name and there was nothing.” “Where’d you search?” “Copyright association.” Kang Ichae spoke casually as he watched Hoyun. “I registered it in the US.” And that finally made Hoyun’s expression worth looking at. “Most people don’t know you can do that. It’s a habit of mine. For songs I make as practice or don’t plan to release, I just register them in the States. You can copyright home recordings and stuff, too.” “Don’t give me that crap. I searched under Kang Ichae and nothing came up.” “I use a stage name.” Kang Ichae continued smoothly. “I only filed the copyright in the US. I had no idea how to move it to a released track, so I had to check with a lawyer. Took some time, but turns out it’s doable.” What the fuck is this guy saying right now. Hoyun’s face practically screamed those words. “They said it’s legally valid. Though if I wanted to sue, it’d take forever and be a pain. Still, it’s enough to shut people up.” “Why... why didn’t you say anything?” Kang Ichae fiddled with the wrappers of the candy piled on the table. “If I’d announced it right away, sure, we could’ve crushed the controversy fast. But it probably would’ve dragged out instead. If the facts were still unclear and we jumped the gun, it’d only make Noeul suffer more when the narrative flipped later.” Kang Ichae, just like Seo Hoyun, was sensitive to public sentiment. In that situation, the more they struggled, the worse the image would get. Eventually, people would just lose interest. And the opposing composer? He’d just ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) do the same shit again eventually. So it wasn’t that he’d been slow—it was that he’d waited for the right time to strike. “Now that it’s confirmed, I’m about to post the official notice.” Among everything Kang Ichae had done, only one thing was truly out of line: Not telling Seo Hoyun on purpose. “Let me ask you instead. Why didn’t you tell me?” “...You didn’t need to know.” “It’s my business, though?” Hoyun had no response. “Let’s be real. If I had told you, you wouldn’t have shared your plans with me. You would’ve just gone, ‘Damn, I didn’t hide it well enough,’ and covered it up even tighter, wouldn’t you?” There was something Kang Ichae had come to believe very strongly after spending time with Seo Hoyun. You couldn’t convince this guy with reasonable conversations. He was the type who only learned the hard way. So just like Hoyun had used him to bait Lim Hyunsu... Kang Ichae had thrown himself in to bait Hoyun back. “...Why did you do it?” “You did the same, didn’t you?” Kang Ichae answered plainly. “Not some dumb revenge or anything. I just wanted to show you.” “That if we’d actually talked from the start, things could’ve been solved faster.” They might’ve resolved it while drawing attention and shutting things down all at once. Even just in Ichae’s head, several solutions came to mind—some that didn’t even require dragging Cheongbeom into it. If even he could think of that, Seo Hoyun, who was way more experienced in this kind of manipulation, definitely could. Hoyun shut his eyes for a moment, then rubbed his forehead and ruffled his hair roughly. “...I seriously fucked up.” Kang Ichae, gaze lowered, bit his lip before speaking slowly. “I didn’t know you’d go that far for me.” If he’d known Lim Hyunsu would be dragged into it, Ichae would never have kept it from Hoyun. He’d figured Hoyun would contact her—but he hadn’t expected him to use such drastic methods. From the start, Kang Ichae had never been able to understand. Why someone with Lim Hyunsu’s innate talent would ever do something like that. And now, she alone was shouldering the consequences. ‘She’s not someone I need to worry about.’ Cheongbeom hadn’t stopped at failure—she was pushing forward. The members were the same. Even if they faltered, they kept walking. But Seo Hoyun... he still wasn’t sure. Hoyun was a runaway train with the brakes smashed off. If someone aimed a thorn at The Dawn, he’d ram them, no questions asked—even if it meant breaking himself in the process. And that was why Kang Ichae had wanted to say it. That even he might need someone else’s help someday. “Thanks for clearing my name. The copyright stuff should be settled soon, so I’ll talk to the lawyer.” Getting up, Kang Ichae said quietly, “But you know you messed up too, right?” He was talking about what happened with Lim Hyunsu. Seo Hoyun didn’t answer. Watching him in silence, Ichae smiled faintly and walked out of the studio. Left alone, Seo Hoyun tossed the bloody tissue in the trash and dropped into the chair Ichae had been sitting in. The whole time Kang Ichae had been talking, he’d been endlessly replaying where exactly things had gone wrong. He picked up one of the candies Ichae had been playing with earlier. Inside was a small note, folded like a little sticker. [Hyung, I’m still thankful and sorry ♡If I get settlement money, I’ll give it to you, so don’t be mad♡ –Your pretty, handsome, lovable Ichae] “...Shit. Outdone by the student.” Must’ve known Hoyun was chewing candy instead of smoking. At this point, all he could do was laugh. Hoyun unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. “My whole back stings. Fucking amazing.” He couldn’t even be mad, because this betrayal had come from a place of affection. Lost in thought, Hoyun pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He hesitated for a second, then sent a message. [Me: Are you really mad?] A reply came almost instantly. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel·fiɾe·net [Lim Hyunsu: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕] Just a bunch of middle fingers. [Lim Hyunsu: I was planning to ghost you for like half a year] [Lim Hyunsu: But I guess I can’t. I messed up first] He was still thinking about what to say when more messages popped up. [Lim Hyunsu: Girlboss moment)] [Lim Hyunsu: Admits when she’s wrong like a champ] Where was she even picking this stuff up from? Realizing she wasn’t in a horrible mood, Hoyun stuffed the phone in his pocket and turned to head back to the dorm—only for it to buzz again. [Lim Hyunsu: Soyboy moment)] [Lim Hyunsu: You are Seo Hoyun] And Seo Hoyun burst out laughing. This time, he’d lost. Fair and square.