Joo Woosung was living life as usual. Practicing with Black Call, playing with Meowy, grabbing the occasional meal with Chae Jungwoo, and sometimes showing up at the “Let’s Talk Shit About Seo Hoyun” club. Sure, he still had his sensitive phases now and then, but seeing fans continue to love him—even after all the times he’d messed up—made him feel like he couldn’t ask for a better life. “...What?! Seo Hoyun?” “Yeah, yeah, it was all over the internet.” So when Chae Jungwoo told him about Seo Hoyun’s latest situation, he was genuinely shocked. He rushed to track down the hospital through his connections and headed over. Just seeing the guy lying there silently, like he was half-dead, made it clear how hard he’d been pushing himself. You insane bastard, seriously. It wasn’t like staying there by his side would make him heal any faster. So without hesitation, Joo Woosung left the hospital room, thinking he’d just come back once the guy regained consciousness. A few days later, he heard that Seo Hoyun was finally awake. He debated whether he should bring some kind of tonic or herbal medicine, wondering if the guy’s face was still all messed up. But when he finally arrived— He was greeted by an absurdly fresh-faced Seo Hoyun. Not even wearing a hospital gown. The air conditioning was perfectly set, the air purifier was humming pleasantly, and the cabinet was stacked high with colorful fruit baskets. “Uh... Ah! That, um—Mr. Joo Woosung.” “Uhhh? Is that your brother?” His gaze fell on the guy peeling an apple beside the bed. “Oh, Mr. Joo Woosung. Been a while, huh?” Healthy complexion, overly friendly tone. A smiling Seo Hoyun? Welcoming him? “Wrong room. My bad.” Joo Woosung quietly slid the door shut. He double-checked the room number, but it matched what he’d been told. Squinting, he took out his phone to confirm again, wondering if he’d misread something. But just then, the door slid open again. Seo Hoyun, in a black tracksuit with a blank expression, kicked open the door. He was sipping a banana smoothie through a straw. “Why are you looking at me like I’m a ghost?” “Says you. What the hell? Why do you look happy to see me?” Seo Hoyun clicked his tongue and gestured toward the room with his chin. “Quit spouting nonsense and come in already.” Woosung, still suspicious, shuffled in behind him in his slippers. The brother was stacking even more fruit onto a plate. “That’s my brother. You know him, right?” Way too friendly of an intro, and totally uncharacteristic. Joo Woosung had only vaguely seen him once while tipsy, so he offered an awkward smile—but unlike Seo Hoyun, the brother politely bowed. “Hello! I don’t think I got the chance to greet you properly last time. I’m Seo Hojin, Seo Hoyun’s younger brother. Thank you for always looking out for him.” “N-No, it’s fine. I’m the one who was too drunk... Sorry about that.” “What are you two doing?” Hoyun scoffed and flopped onto the bed. This dude doesn’t look like a patient. He looks like he’s on vacation. Below the massive wall-mounted TV, piles of letters from fans had been opened and neatly stacked. “Seo Hoyun, are you... living better than me right now?” At that, Seo Hojin handed Woosung a rabbit-shaped apple slice on a fork. Woosung took a bite, still puzzled. “My brother hasn’t been allowed to leave the hospital for three days because of the members and our manager.” ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novelꜰire.net “They just... told him to get some rest...” As Hojin trailed off, Hoyun let out a deep sigh. “Even the doctor says I’m so fine I could run a marathon. So what is this nonsense?” “You do look annoyingly healthy.” “So you’re just going along with it?” When Woosung narrowed his eyes suspiciously and asked, Hoyun shrugged shamelessly. “I’m weak and frail. What else can I do?” “Bullshit. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Still, given that The Dawn was supposedly in pre-comeback non-promotional period, maybe this was a good ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ time for him to rest. So Woosung decided not to press any further. He’d already seen Hoyun collapse twice in under two years. The guy’s body just couldn’t keep up with his temper, Woosung figured, pulling a mandarin orange out of the fruit basket. “Mandarins aren’t even in season.” “You’re getting it for free. Either eat it or fry it with some kimchi.” He loved kimchi fried rice, sure, but he wasn’t unhinged enough to fry mandarin oranges. As Woosung glared, Hoyun’s brother snuck glances his way. When Woosung arched an eyebrow, he cautiously shuffled over. “Um, does my brother... act kinda mean?” The hospital room was quiet—only three people inside—so even though he whispered, Hoyun definitely heard it. Hoyun just grunted like, seriously? and kept munching his apple. Woosung didn’t want to tick Hoyun off, so he just gave a sheepish laugh. But Hojin sighed. “If it ever gets too much... please tell me, okay?” “Hojin, what exactly are you gonna do?” “I—I can at least listen!” Even though he had a similar vibe to Hoyun, the brother was genuinely sweet. It actually touched Woosung a little. “Mr. Hojin, are you in college? How old are you?” “Yeah! I’m twenty-four.” “Wait... aren’t you supposed to be in exams right now?” The pickled vegetable version of Hoyun suddenly bolted upright. Hojin visibly flinched. “What? Why are you even here? Don’t you have class? You spent all day with me yesterday too, didn’t you?” “...Only missed two classes...” Hoyun clenched his teeth. Hojin scrambled to defend himself. “I was gonna take a summer class anyway!” “Is that supposed to be an excuse? Get going.” Hojin stuck out his lips in a pout and glared defiantly at Hoyun, but as soon as their eyes met, he shriveled and bowed his head. “...Fine, I’ll go, okay?!” Muttering that he was the embodiment of misunderstood genius, he got up and started gathering his stuff. Woosung watched, perplexed. Aren’t they the same age? Same age, yet calling him “hyung”? And why was he so whipped? “Hyung, if you feel sick, tell Dajun right away!!” Grabbing his things, Hojin bolted out of the hospital like he was fleeing a crime scene. The short sound of his tongue clicking made it clear he was annoyed—but Seo Hoyun didn’t look angry at all. He propped his chin up and gazed affectionately at the now-empty doorway. Woosung knew immediately. The reason Seo Hoyun clung so desperately to idol life... was because of Seo Hojin. He couldn’t guess what connection idol activities had with someone like Hojin—but still. After watching this guy constantly rip people apart, seeing that expression is kinda refreshing. As Woosung peeled another not-in-season mandarin, Hoyun, now standing, gently kicked the leg of the chair he was sitting on. Woosung barely caught himself before toppling over. With a bright smile, Hoyun held out a hand. “What the hell? Are you nuts? You knock me over and then ask me to hold your hand? What is this, ‘hurting then healing’?” “Stop talking nonsense.” As Woosung reached to take it, Hoyun pulled his hand away and added, “They took my phone too.” So, obviously, he was asking for Woosung’s. Woosung ran a hand through his ashy light-brown hair and let out a sigh. “Don’t tell me... The only reason you were glad to see me was...” “It was so great to see your face again, sunbae.” Completely dead inside. He grumbled the curse under his breath, but somehow, that made him feel relieved. Seo Hoyun was still Seo Hoyun—even while “sick.” And for Joo Woosung, that was reassuring. As expected, they didn’t touch Joo Woosung. The day I woke up, there was a long discussion—and eventually, everyone agreed to my imprisonment. That evening, the phone I’d handed over under peer pressure ended up in the manager’s hands. From that point on, Seo Hojin stopped bringing his phone whenever he visited. I was still figuring out what to do next when Woosung happened to show up. The members came by every day after practice. But all they ever talked about was new convenience store ramen, how they wanted oyster soup in winter, or reviews of whatever food show was on TV. It seemed like they were deliberately blocking out all the bad stuff for me. But do they know who I am? In my past life, I’d been cursed out enough to earn immunity. Honestly, sometimes I even enjoy the hate—it just means people are paying attention. Using the portal app, I logged into SNS and started plugging my name into searches with all sorts of keywords. [Daepaseong you fucking trash just die I knew you were scum from the moment you worked that kid to the bone] [Hoyun looked like shit weeks ago, fuck’s sake...... Daepaseong doesn’t protect their artists, they just stick in a straw and suck 'em dry..] #ProtectDaepaseongArtists] ‘So it’s chaos out there.’ At least no one was saying I’d coughed up blood or my heart stopped—small blessings. After the shouting match between Sung Jiwon and Kang Ichae had died down, our leader Kim Sunghyun had updated the manager on my condition. Then, as if they’d been waiting right outside, both the manager and road manager came rushing in like they’d been shot from a cannon. The manager had groped at me in a disgusting display of concern, sniffling and bawling that it was a relief I was okay. He’d then immediately contacted Daepaseong to issue a public statement. Considering how slow they usually are, they’d handled it pretty quickly this time—probably helped by the previous post being well-timed too. But the fans? Already past the boiling point. Looked like they were about ready to stage a full-on protest in front of the company. “You know looking at shit like that is bad for your mental health, right?” “Who are you talking to?” “...Right. This is Seo Hoyun, after all.” Joo Woosung shook his head, defeated, and rummaged through the fruit basket again. Looked like he was planning to demolish it single-handedly. I turned my attention back to my phone. This time, I searched the members’ names. [“Ichae’s stage was fuuucking insane......... Drop the pre-release already Don’t drive the girlies insane.”] [“Yep. My pick from Rising Rookies is... none other than—! └ you’re my number one,, my lil’ yang-ahchae,, so precious,,,”] [“But seriously though, when he’s not around the members, Ichae’s default face is so scary lololol └ good thing the mentees didn’t piss themselves Nothing too major. The fans were just slightly buzzing about Ichae. Even without the clips being released yet, word about the Rising Rookies mentor performance was already spreading. But maybe because I collapsed that day, most people were trying not to bring it up too much. [“Hoyun I love youㅜㅜ just rest and don’t worry about a thing”] I read a few more fan reactions, then turned off the app and handed the phone back to Woosung. I owe Min Jiheon one. I’d have to sit down and talk with him sometime when I had the chance. Judging from the overall tone of things, it seemed best to hold off on broadcast activities for now. Maybe I’d post a selfie and send a message on PopPop a week from now. That might ease fans’ worries. I started brainstorming how to return to activity without stirring more concern. Could I win a grand prize next year? No—I have to. I’d do everything I could to break into 1st-tier idol territory, but above all... what I really needed now was luck. And a powerful song. One with perfect timing. One that would shake the public to their core. “Hey, seriously, take care of your body.” “Most people don’t just collapse like that, you know. I’m scared you’re gonna actually die.” —none of that would matter unless I beat this dumbass sitting here peeling tangerines and worrying about me. “I’m planning to train hard. Can you help?” “...Why so agreeable?” “I’ve got time to help a nugu.” It was practically confirmed that Black Call would win the grand prize this year. And they’d probably be active next year too. Fuck. That wall’s fucking high. It was already late October. We might scrape up a few mid-tier awards, but the daesang? Out of reach. Watching Woosung’s ridiculously polished face—the guy who swept every award while barely promoting—made me click my tongue in frustration. “Huh?” he replied, wiping his sticky fingers with a wet tissue. “You’re not... going to the army next year?” “Don’t you think I’m still a bit young for that?” I tried again, clinging to a sliver of hope. “Then... any chance of a rumor of internal conflict?” “Why the hell are you ?!” Apparently, he was still not that close to the other members of Black Call—judging by how he reacted even worse than to the army question. Off to the side, he grumbled stuff like, “You think you’re so friendly with your members?” and “Tch, not that you don’t look kinda close...” “You stabbed my weak point and then say you were just asking. What kind of—” His rant suddenly cut off. Then he scoffed. “Ah, fuck. I get it.” “You’re trying to sabotage me ‘cause you think I’m gonna win an award, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes and gave him a harmless little smile. As if I’d never think such a thing. An incredibly accurate guess, actually. Naturally, since Woosung had already figured out my personality, he flipped the hell out. “Unbelievable! I came here out of concern and this little shit’s over here scheming about the daesang!!” “Come on, it’s not like that. I was just curious if you were getting along with your members.” “Like you care about that?! Please. This is Joo Woosung. Even if I had a scandal, I’d still get the grand prize, no problem!” My blood pressure shot up like a rocket. I barely held back my trembling lips, trying to suppress the urge to snarl. Meanwhile, Woosung sulked openly. “Fiiine. I’ll do a grand slam sweep of the grand prize for the next five years. You guys? Not a chance.” “You out of your fucking mind?!” “Did you just talk back to your senior?!” As we bickered back and forth, Kang Ichae walked in. “Oh~, Woosung hyung~.” “Who asked you to stay?! Just go! Hurry!” And just like that, he brushed past Kang Ichae and stormed out. “See you at practice! You off-beat loser!!” ...So he is still coming to practice? I massaged the back of my stiff neck as Kang Ichae strolled in and plopped into the chair Woosung had been sitting in. Ever since threatening to pull me from promotions, he’d kept his distance—always sitting with the members but rarely interacting with me. So him showing up alone was unexpected. “...What’s with you now?” Polite speech all of a sudden? It was creepy enough to give me goosebumps. “I’m creating emotional distance by speaking formally, hyung. Dajun advised me.” Kang Ichae laughed, covering his mouth like he was shy. “A little bit, yeah.” I decided to leave him alone for now.