“Are you going to another company?”
“No, I’m really quitting. I’m going to find a job.”
“...”
“You and Kang Ga-ram should do the same too. You’ve been public trainees for quite a few years already.”
He knew that the words he spat out, wishing for others to feel pain since he himself had crumbled, carried weight. Despite being aware, the words were sharp and cut deep. Tae-oh and Ga-ram, who auditioned publicly, quickly became trainees and, not long after, became public trainees with Eun-gyeom. Both had decent skills and outstanding looks, so in the beginning, they did various activities like advertisements, cameos in seniors’ music videos, and dancing.
Most of YC Entertainment’s public trainees had debuted rapidly within a year, so everyone believed Tae-oh and Garam would debut soon as well. However, contrary to everyone’s expectations, when Eun-gyeom, who had lived together with them in the dorm, debuted with <D-Block>, Tae-oh still had to be in this underground practice room.
In the early stages of their public appearance, various posts about their captivating visuals flooded the community, but now, after some time, occasional posts asking, ‘When is he going to debut?’ were the norm. Sung-kwang’s words, usually something he would ignore, felt difficult to dismiss today.
“I’m in the debut team. I’ll greet you on the screen soon.”
“If that happens, it would be great. Think it over carefully. Find a path in life quickly, like giving up early in your twenties. Don’t end up like me, Tae-oh.”
Sung-kwang chuckled at Tae-oh’s nonchalant yet confident response and offered advice with a sly grin. He smiled and spoke as if to support a brother in the same situation, but inside him was a poisonous intent, filled with the thought, ‘See if you end up like me.’
“Hyung, I’ll work hard, as you advised. I’ll go in.”
Not wanting to engage further, Tae-oh, seemingly unaffected, bowed his head with an expressionless face, greeting Sung-kwang. Sung-kwang’s face crumpled at Tae-oh’s response. Ignoring the unpleasant gaze that felt like a stab in the back, Tae-oh knocked on the door of practice room 6 at the end of the corridor.
It was a tentative knock with a slight hope of hearing music, but as expected, there was no response. When he slightly opened the door to peek inside, instead of practicing, he saw Sol crouched on the floor, fast asleep. Due to Sung-kwang, who was still standing in the corridor, glaring at him, Tae-oh quietly entered the practice room and closed the door.
He didn’t want Sung-kwang to find out that, in the time others were practicing diligently, this person was calmly sleeping, especially being part of the same debut group. Quietly closing the door and looking down at the sleeping Sol, Tae-oh clenched his fist.
The hat he had carefully placed on Sol in the morning, along with Sol, was lying on the floor. Anger welled up as it seemed to mock his desperate state.
Ji-ho, who had quit his part-time job, focusing solely on practice upon entering the debut team, had recently been looking into part-time job opportunities again. Deuk-yong didn’t show it, but occasionally, when talking to his parents, he would express the desire to go home, making him feel embarrassed by his words. Ga-ram, whenever there was free time, sat with his laptop, busy creating MIDI files. He had filled computer folders with unreleased files, promising someday to create songs for their group.
Joining the debut team later than others. It took various things for a trainee to debut, but luck played a role. One day, by chance, while walking down the street, one might receive a proposal. Thus, becoming a trainee and debuting with good luck. There were more people like that than one might think. Later, if the group really succeeded, there might come a day when they laugh and say, ‘It happened all of a sudden.’
Tae-oh was also making efforts not to burden Sol with his frustrating situation. He was making an effort to support and work together, and if there were any shortcomings, he was trying to help and work together to address them.
So, when Sol said he wanted to practice alone today, he nodded with the belief that they should trust him. However, the result that came back was the scene in front of his eyes. Apart from the absence of diligence, it felt as if Sol was mocking himself, saying, ‘This thing you’re so desperate about means nothing to me.’ It felt as if he was saying such words.
Whether intentional or not, he hit the other in the head this morning. That’s why he felt sorry. But even that had completely disappeared now.
Now, he felt like he could intentionally slap the other who’s doing things half-heartedly. Many people passed by during trainee life. There were more than a few people who didn’t get along, but Tae-oh tried not to hate people as much as possible.
Hating someone he inevitably had to deal with would only consume his emotions, and ultimately, he thought it would lead to his exhaustion. So, he had also tried not to hate Sung-kwang, whom he had encountered a little while ago. Sung Sol was kindly letting Tae-oh know that meeting someone for just two days could make a person dislikable to such an extent.
“Hey.”
Not knowing if Sung-kwang was still outside, he didn’t want to make a loud noise. Tae-oh walked over to Sol’s feet and stared down at the sleeping man. He slept through the morning, came to the practice room, and slept again. Once out of the spotlight, everything seemed less charming except for the face that he couldn’t help but acknowledge.
“Hey, wake up.”
He didn’t know how many times he had repeated these words today. The morning events overlapped in his mind.
“Sung Sol.”
Tae-oh’s thick eyebrows furrowed, and wrinkles formed on his handsome forehead.
Tap, tap.
Tae-oh nudged Sol’s shoe sole with the tip of his foot. The neatly folded feet twitched, but Sol didn’t open his eyes. Tae-oh also didn’t expect him to wake up easily.
In the morning, he had personally experienced the fact that the other wouldn’t open his eyes easily. Despite this, the reason for nudging him so unceremoniously was simply because Tae-oh didn’t want to touch him.
Suppressing the surging emotions, Tae-oh called Sol’s name calmly and in a low voice. Even though Tae-oh hadn’t called Sol’s name many times, the lack of a response and Sol’s displeased expression when he poked him with his foot dampened Tae-oh’s spirits.
“Sung Sol.”
“...Yes.”
“It’s lunchtime, get up.”
Tae-oh nudged him insistently with his foot, and Sol finally stretched out, frowning hard, but it was a quicker response than in the morning.
It was a mistake to think he had woken up. Frowning slightly, Sol squeezed his eyes shut again when he saw Tae-oh standing at his feet with his arms crossed. Sol’s face contorted sharply at the unexpected appearance of Tae-oh’s face.
Sol tried to feign sleep again, attempting to erase the tension on his face, but in his confusion, he couldn’t manage to control his expression. The voice coming out from clenched lips sounded as if he had just woken up, obvious to anyone who heard it.
Although he had laid down for a moment to rest because his body was too tired, he didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. Well, his eyes indeed felt heavy, but with a nonchalant attitude, he lied down, thinking, ‘What’s the harm in it?’ Yet, even Sol himself didn’t know he had really fallen asleep on the practice room floor.
After the accident, he felt he had become sensitive to trivial things, but in reality, he realized he was the one who was rather insensitive to the world. Sol wanted to bite his tongue. Tae-oh’s expression glimpsed during his half-asleep state didn’t look good. It was natural. The other had gone out of his way to let him practice alone, and he was sleeping instead. Not grabbing him by the collar was almost beyond tolerance.
“Oh, I won’t eat. I don’t want to eat.”
Sol mumbled as if he was sleep-talking, pretending to be half-asleep. Although his stomach was growling, it felt too shameless to get up and go to lunch with Tae-oh after sleeping so much. Even with a rumbling stomach, he wasn’t inclined to crawl out on all fours to go eat.
Tae-oh, still with his fists clenched, looked down at Sol once again and sighed. Pretending to be asleep, with tightly closed eyes, his act was unconvincing. It was too unconvincing, and even though Tae-oh didn’t believe it, he didn’t ask again. His patience had hit rock bottom since the morning.
“There’s someone using this room in the afternoon, so clean up and come to practice room 2.”
Since Sung-kwang had quit, there was no need for that, but Tae-oh didn’t care. He had been considerate, but seeing Sol lying down so nonchalantly made him think that even that consideration wasn’t needed. With one last glance down at Sol, who was still lying on the floor with his eyes closed, Tae-oh turned and walked out of the training room.
After Tae-oh left, Sol slowly got up, still a bit drowsy. It seemed there would be discord even before the debut. Like Tae-oh, Sol also let out a long sigh.
Tae-oh’s face was expressionless, but Sol sensed a volcano-like energy about to erupt from him. It was a strangely familiar feeling, almost like what he felt from the leader of a group project during his university life. Being so angry that they would want to hit him. Sol understood that fact in his mind, but taking action was a different matter.
He had already neglected his own issues for too long. Moreover, resolving this type of problem wouldn’t happen overnight just by deciding to do so. It was an illness, a mental one. As Tae-oh left, he heard voices in the hallway.
“What about Sol?”
“He said he didn’t want to eat.”
“He didn’t eat dinner last night either.”
“...He’s not eating? He should still eat....”
“Never mind.”
“Is he just not eating...?”
“Don’t worry about it, hyungs. It’s fine. It was uncomfortable, but whatever.”
“Deuk-yong, don’t take it out on Sol just because you can’t eat what you want.”
Ji-ho playfully messed with Deuk-yong’s head, patting it forcefully. Patting the head of Deuk-yong, who was a head taller than him, looked comical as Ji-ho playfully hopped to reach him. Deuk-yong, reluctantly bowed his head to Ji-ho. Everyone was making an effort to lift the mood, but there was no need to complicate things when Sol was just sleeping here.
“Can’t we have jajangmyeon for real?”
“No.”
Like a nagging mom, Ji-ho cut in firmly. Though he joked about it, Ji-ho felt sorry for Deuk-yong, who struggled every mealtime.
Deuk-yong, despite his young age, had to regulate his diet strongly as he easily gained weight and had difficulty losing it. Sometimes, Ji-ho didn’t want to be so strict about food with a growing child, but in reality, even younger trainees than Deuk-yong were on extreme diets. Knowing this fact well, Deuk-yong didn’t make a fuss every time and didn’t cause any trouble, like secretly sneaking out to eat jajangmyeon or chicken.
As Tae-oh walked down the hallway of the practice room, which had quieted down for lunch, he glanced at the solidly closed door of the far end room, room 6, and frowned. This was annoying. The change was fleeting, but Ji-ho, the oldest brother, didn’t miss it.
“Why? Did he say something?”
“Nothing.”
“Why? What is it?”
Having caught on to something, Ji-ho exchanged glances with Tae-oh, and Deuk-yong quickly intervened between the two.
