Sol’s appearance was truly perfect, causing a sensation wherever exposed. Even Tae-oh, who had heard comments like, ‘With looks like that, he could do anything,’ from fellow trainees or staff during his training, was momentarily awestruck by Sol’s face that he had glimpsed briefly yesterday.
Could Sol ever receive a low score on a camera test? People often say that some faces look better on camera than in real life, but that was usually an exaggeration. With looks as striking as Sol’s, there was no issue with cameras or anything else, really. His appearance made Tae-oh forget any annoyance or impatience he had felt.
Tae-oh marveled inwardly at the idea that someone like Sol, who could make a living with just his face, existed. It was astonishing that someone with such looks had managed to avoid entering the entertainment industry until now. Where had he been and what had he been doing all this time?
On Sol’s face, there was a faint bruise, a result of their unintentional confrontation. Although Tae-oh had inadvertently cornered Sol, the swelling on his forehead and the immobile eyebrows on his face left Tae-oh even more bewildered.
Even with Tae-oh’s apology, Sol’s dark eyes became moist, almost spirited. His eyes, full of moisture as if they would overflow with tears in a single blink, were filled with resentment.
While Tae-oh was momentarily taken aback by the perplexing situation in front of him, Sol smoothly moved past him, who was standing in front of the door, and confidently took purposeful strides forward. Despite the pain in the area where he had been struck and the lingering ache on his forehead, Sol forced himself not to cry, tightening his eyes with strength against a deeper sorrow.
Here, there was no one to console him, nor anyone who would sympathize with his tears. He didn’t want to cry in front of someone who didn’t particularly like him. Sol tightened his eyes even more, pretending everything was normal, and forcefully swung open the dressing room door.
Sol, who had come to pick up his clothes, felt bewildered by the different appearance compared to yesterday. Clearly, yesterday, the dressing room was neatly organized like a clothing store, but overnight, it looked like a hurricane had swept through.
Sol pushed aside scattered clothes on the floor and rummaged through the box containing his belongings. He felt that blinking might cause stains on the T-shirt he was holding. The garment in his hand was so thin and loose that it seemed inappropriate to call it winter clothing.
“Excuse me!”
The moment Sol bit his lower lip and threw off his top, the dressing room door swung open, and Tae-oh entered. Hurriedly entering the room, Tae-oh turned away quickly at the sight of the white torso in front of him.
“I’m sorry.”
Having turned away from Sol, Tae-oh touched his forehead. He didn’t follow the other to apologize for incidentally seeing his naked upper body.
“I wanted to apologize for hitting you earlier.”
“...Yes.”
“It was a mistake.”
“Yes.”
“I apologize for entering suddenly.”
“Yes.”
Sol repeated the same words like a parrot in response to Tae-oh’s apology. Sol’s tone, repeating only “yes” like a parrot, was surprisingly firm, unlike the vulnerability in his eyes. Sol deliberately avoided giving even a glance at Tae-oh. Tae-oh sneakily glanced at Sol, who had been silently changing clothes with such diligence.
“What happened to your forehead?”
Certainly, when they met in the practice room yesterday, his face was fine. He looked a bit unwell, but there was no doubt that his face was okay.
“Nothing.”
“It’s better to go to the hospital.”
“It’s okay. It’s not a big injury, and it’ll get better if I leave it alone.”
“It doesn’t look okay; that’s why I’m saying it.”
Looking at Sol wearing a thin T-shirt in the chilly weather, Tae-oh recalled his appearance in front of the practice room yesterday, having just come back from the restroom. The bloodstains on his clothes passed by his eyes.
“If it’s an injury, you should get proper treatment.”
“Hey.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t like me, right?”
“...I can’t exactly say I’m fond of you.”
“As long as I don’t cause trouble for your debut, it’s fine, right?”
Tae-oh’s repeated nagging was vague, but strangely, only that statement stood out vividly in his memory.
‘I dislike situations where someone leaves, and there are new people coming in.’
Sol recalled Tae-oh’s words that came to his mind, and Tae-oh thought about what Sol had said a little while ago. The two of them exchanged glances, their faces wrinkling in confusion.
It was his fault for accidentally hitting the other no matter what the mistake was, but strictly speaking, since entering middle school and starting the trainee life, there was a time when Tae-oh lived with over 20 guys in a cramped house. However, during that long period, Tae-oh never once arrived late.
One minute, one second, was equally precious to everyone. Even though the owner of that time wasn’t necessarily spending it alone, the dynamics were different in communal living. Right now, Tae-oh has already lost 50 minutes due to Sung Sol’s oversleeping.
Still, it was the least he could do. If he had left Sung Sol alone, gone to the practice room alone, and dismissed Yeong-ho with a simple ‘Sung Sol? I don’t know,’ he would have endured a few nagging remarks and it would have been over.
While trying to wake him up, Tae-oh’s patience hit the bottom several times. Still, Tae-oh, being considerate of his struggle in an unfamiliar dorm and practice room, waking up late alone in an empty room, standing guard on this spot was the least he could do. Wasn’t it at least a basic courtesy to worry if there was a person in pain in front of you?
Tae-oh didn’t consider himself to have great empathy skills, but he still believed he had good learning abilities. He learned that at least when wearing the mask of a person, one should pretend to be concerned when seeing someone with half of their face bruised. The cost of that pretense was Sol’s rough words.
“Yeah, because it’s a habit to take care of other friends.”
Tae-oh stared at Sung Sol, who was constantly rummaging through a few clothes. Tae-oh intended to express his discomfort if their gaze met, but instead of making eye contact, Sol didn’t even lift his head. Tae-oh adjusted his posture awkwardly. In his own way, Tae-oh was making an effort.
He didn’t particularly like talking a lot, and he wasn’t a warm-hearted person who explained things in detail. Five times, weird candidates who didn’t have the slightest interest in being an idol disappeared, leaving long scars. Someone had to control the problematic member who freeloaded on group assignments and even expelled members.
Wearing the label of the group leader, he successfully reassured those mentally shaken additional members, advising them to sit quietly even if they freeloaded. Despite the urge to pour out a thousand words a day, he held onto the steering wheel kindly, promising to drive safely while struggling to contain the desire to speak out, yet still inadvertently scratching people gently.
“Then take care of your friends. Don’t worry about me unnecessarily.”
“You have to make a living with your face, but there’s a problem with that face, right? How can I not be bothered?”
While Tae-oh’s eyebrows subtly furrowed and quickly returned to their place, Sol’s sharp expression didn’t easily soften. Unable to counter Tae-oh’s retort, Sol messed up his pathetic clothes. Clutching onto his black pants, Sol chewed on his lips nervously.
There was nothing more to say. It seemed like if he uttered even a single word more, he might truly burst into tears. Feeling that no matter what he said, crying like a child would eventually make him seem childish, Sol finally lifted his head and glared at Tae-oh. Long eyelashes adorned his eyes, giving a delicate and cool impression, yet strong emotions were unexpectedly embedded in those eyes.
“Please go out because I need to change my pants.”
“Sure.”
Tae-oh didn’t ask twice. There was no need to make a fuss about going to the hospital when the other person adamantly refused. It wasn’t as if they had a particularly good relationship or spent much time together, as Sol mentioned. It could be dealt with businesslike, as Sol suggested. Although Tae-oh had become accustomed to taking care of people over the past few years, he found formalities like this comfortable.
Without hesitation, Tae-oh left the dressing room with a stern expression. Left alone, Sol changed into different clothes and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
A snug T-shirt haphazardly thrown into a box, black pants just before they became knee-length. A haphazardly thrown snug T-shirt from a box, and black pants just before they became knee-length. It was the neatest outfit Sol had, which was no different from a single outfit worn by a male idol.
The man reflected in the mirror stood there with an awkward expression. The thin T-shirt, which lacked any sense of season, bothered him. Despite layering several of them, the clothes didn’t take shape properly, even though Sol usually looked good in any clothes. It was as if he was standing there, reluctantly putting on clothes he didn’t want to wear.
Now that he had to become an idol trainee instead of a recluse in the corner, he wondered if this appearance would be acceptable. A sense of guilt came over him as he thought about the four other members who were stable and shining. Sol, with his messy hair, combed it with his hands.
The face hidden behind the messy bangs looked less gloomy now that the forehead, marked with a large bruise, was revealed. Looking at himself in the mirror again, Sol was surprised at how ridiculous he looked. It was somewhat comical.
Remembering Ji-ho and DK’s words about not being able to see his eyes because he covered his face again with his bangs to hide the bruise, he repeated the process of combing them aside. So, who had announced that he was going to change his clothes, grumbled to himself once again.
He didn’t want to know how a cow felt being led to the slaughterhouse, but Sol’s feelings as he walked were just like that. It wasn’t so much about going to the practice room itself, but rather the fear that a new life-or-death quest would be initiated after going to the practice room.
Unlike Sol’s emotions, perhaps due to being late, Tae-oh’s steps were unusually fast. Sol was a bit slow, but unlike Ga-ram, who matched his pace last night, Tae-oh walked even faster. Since he hadn’t memorized the way completely and was afraid of losing Tae-oh, Sol diligently followed behind him. Although the sun was already at its zenith, Tae-oh, huddling in his thin jacket against the chilly wind, kept moving his legs continuously.
As Tae-oh, who had been briskly walking ahead, suddenly stopped and looked back, Sol shrunk his neck like a deer. It was an automatic reaction from being hit once earlier. The place where he was hit surprisingly hurt quite a bit. Tae-oh, after looking at Sol, frowned slightly and took off the hat he was wearing and put it on his head. It was a simple black bucket hat with no details.
“Next time, at least wear a hat.”
