“Yep. Did Tae-oh go to the hospital?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh... really? Are you two still a bit awkward with each other?”
“No, not really. Things have gotten much better.”
“That’s good.”
Although the combination of Tae-oh and hospital in the same sentence bothered him, Eun-gyeom smoothly changed the subject, and the conversation continued. Sol, who was absentmindedly clicking his chopsticks while responding to the other’s question, couldn’t focus on what Eun-gyeom was saying because his mind was fixated on the word “hospital.” The words Deuk-yong had said to Tae-oh, urging him not to give up, came to mind.
He wondered if Tae-oh was sick that’s why he had to give up. But the Tae-oh, whom he had seen over the past few days, was so earnest and hardworking that it was beyond words. Eventually, Sol, who couldn’t concentrate on Eun-gyeom’s words due to the wandering thoughts in his mind, cautiously asked about Tae-oh.
“...Tae-oh, is he sick? You said he’s going to the hospital....”
“Oh, Tae-oh isn’t the one who’s sick, so don’t worry.”
“Yoon Tae-oh? Oh, you’re on Tae-oh’s team?”
“Yes.”
“What? Tae-oh...? Who’s that?”
Eun-gyeom’s expression turned awkward at Sol’s question, asking if Tae-oh was sick. For a moment, even the group members sitting beside Eun-gyeom showed interest in Sol’s story.
“You know, that guy with thick eyebrows and a sculpted face. He was a public trainee.”
“Ohh, I remember. After that car accident, his father passed away, and his younger sister is in the hospital?”
“Yah, Luca! Sorry, Sol-ah. He’s a bit like that.”
The exotic-looking man with pink hair blurted out what Eun-gyeom had been reluctant to talk about. Although it might be disappointing that Tae-oh didn’t inform a team mate about that, it was still a potentially sensitive matter that he might not have wanted to disclose.
In this industry, where one shouldn’t casually talk about other’s personal history, Eun-gyeom frowned at Luca. It was clear that Tae-oh hadn’t informed Sol about it, but now someone else had spread the word.
“What are you talking about?”
Sol’s eyes widened in surprise as he heard what Luca said. If he hadn’t been aware from the start, it would have been understandable, but now that he had heard it, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know with a simple “Oh, I see.” When Sol widened his eyes in surprise, aside from Eun-gyeom, who touched his own forehead, the other two provided answers to Sol’s curiosity.
“You’re on the same team, and you didn’t know?”
“Tae-oh, he’s famous. His parents and younger sister were in a major accident. His father passed away, and his sister became vegetative or something like that. His mother takes care of her alone. So, after practice, he always goes to the hospital. He lets his mother rest for a bit.”
“Stop it. There must be a reason why the person involved didn’t say anything.”
“Everyone in the company knows, so it’s strange that his teammate doesn’t know.”
“That’s true, but... why do you remember something like that, but can’t remember who Tae-oh is?”
“At that time, among the trainees, it was all noisy. They were saying things like he should just quit being a trainee and do something else. It was so noisy that I remember.”
“Get up, Kim Luca. Sol-ah, sorry, let’s talk later.”
“Yes... Yes.”
In the end, Eun-gyeom stood up with his food and left his seat. Then, as Luca’s hair was still fluttering about, he grabbed it forcefully, as if harvesting it, and pulled it hard. He emitted a short gasp of pain, saying “Ouch!” as he stood up from his seat, while his hair, which had been fluttering like feathers, was still held tightly.
With an embarrassed expression, Eun-gyeom said goodbye to Sol and then left with his members. Sol, left alone, felt like he had been hit on the head with a hammer.
He didn’t know Tae-oh well, but the story was something he couldn’t have imagined. Similar in age, and with a family accident. Although they experienced a similar accident, Tae-oh’s life afterward was vastly different from Sol’s. Like a hard blow to the back of his head, Sol felt dazed, with Tae-oh’s words to his members lingering in his mind.
“He said he would work hard, thinking it was his last chance...”
Sol, eating his dinner absentmindedly, cleaned up the cup ramen with its contents still intact and returned to the practice room. It wasn’t that he was hungry or full. Although he stayed to practice, he couldn’t concentrate on it due to the news he had accidentally heard.
Sol sat alone in a corner of the practice room and looked at himself in the mirror. He pulled his hair back and attempted to smile, yet traces of sadness still lingered on his face. Somewhere, he felt weak and deflated, and the surrounding atmosphere wasn’t particularly uplifting. Even if he was praised countless of times because of his appearance, what was the use of that when the inside was rotten?
People were all different, so they felt emotions and processed them in different ways. It was only natural. Even if they had experienced similar things, it was natural that their reactions were different. Upon hearing what happened to Tae-oh, Sol unconsciously compared himself to the other.
After the accident, unlike him, who couldn’t cope with anything and fled from everything, Tae-oh remained steadfast in that place, enduring everything with resilience. Silently. Without paying attention to the surrounding gazes.
The trainee life might seem amusing to some, but for Sol, who had experienced it for a few days, it wasn’t easy. It felt like everything in life revolved around this building and practice room, and one had to live like that.
All the members ignored Sol’s situation. Tae-oh not telling him anything didn’t matter either. When Eun-gyeom’s teammate asked Sol why he didn’t know, it was natural not to know. There was no reason to share such personal details with someone he’d only known for a few days, someone he didn’t feel comfortable with.
It didn’t bother Sol in the slightest. On the contrary, he understood. It was just unnecessary to bring it up and reminisce about it. And most of all, he didn’t want the pitying looks he’d get once they’d heard his story.
It wasn’t about who was more unfortunate or in a worse environment. It was just that they had gone through similar things but walked in completely opposite directions. For several days, as he watched Tae-oh practice diligently with determination, he saw him as someone who persevered steadfastly toward his dreams, unwaveringly stepping towards that stage.
He thought of the other members in the same way. But that seemingly indifferent figure taking care of others, especially himself, who were a nuisance, was different. How could Sol not have seen it? It must have been difficult... It definitely must have been.
At least Sol found it difficult. He wanted to escape from the pitying gazes of those around him and didn’t want to return to that empty house, yet at the same time, he longed to go back. Because there was no place to escape from the eyes following them. But at the same time, home was a space of pain that gnawed at Sol and reminded him of the accident. So Sol let go of everything. But Tae-oh never let go until the end.
People were different. He had pondered countless times about being different, but despite that, he couldn’t be like Tae-oh. Still, he remained curious about him. Of course, there was a slight sense of inferiority about why he couldn’t stand as tall as Tae-oh, but more than that, he found it fascinating and curious. At the same time, he felt that he, too, could be like Tae-oh.
The example of success was right in front of him. The exam guidebooks and answer keys were right in front of him. There would be a title like, ‘You can be like this person if you do this.’ Suddenly, a spark lit up in Sol’s eyes, who had been sitting there absent-mindedly. Tae-oh might feel bad, but Sol felt something significant from his presence.
It felt like being placed on a sharp examination stand every week, but this person had chosen a completely different path from him. A person who sparkled and remained as steadfast as ever, unlike himself, whose colors faded.
And the members who were tied together by fate, whether they liked it or not. A quest that forced Sol to move, even if it was by coercion. Everything felt like whispering for Sol to change.
Of course, Tae-oh and Sol were different people, so they couldn’t be the same. But it was so clear, why not try it once? Anyway, it was a situation where he couldn’t just keep avoiding things as he always had. The past three days had brought a lot to Sol. Certainly, it wouldn’t be easy, and the deeply ingrained beliefs wouldn’t change all at once.
“Still...”
And more than any other grandiose reason, Sol didn’t want to put a dent on Tae-oh’s character. He didn’t want to let his own imperfections bring down someone who had managed to stand resolutely by himself. Now, the sharp words Tae-oh had spoken made sense. Tae-oh had to protect himself. Just as Sol had protected himself with evasion, hiding, and wandering.
Sol pulled out a bundle of papers from his bag. It was filled with notes from vocal lessons and things he needed to remember. In fact, he had to learn how to read sheet music from scratch. There were still many things he found confusing. Since his basic skills were far behind those of the other members, there were words written that only Sol could understand, for the parts where vibrato was needed or where the pitch frequently fell.
‘Must memorize!!! Absolutely!!!’
And at the top of the sheet music, Sol’s biggest obstacle was his memory. Lyrics. Even if he memorized the words written on the paper perfectly, sometimes his mind would go blank and he would feel overwhelmed when it came time to sing.
Sol believed his singing was subpar, but Tae-oh and Ji-ho reassured him, saying that if he mastered the lyrics and performed them well, it would suffice.
Of course, Ji-ho added one more thing. He laughed, saying that he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if he didn’t learn the song quickly enough. Sol, clutching the tattered, crinkled paper tightly in both hands, looked around and coughed uselessly. He knew better than anyone that he had too many weaknesses compared to the others. It made every day that much harder and more overwhelming.
How did Tae-oh shake off this burden? Even if he didn’t know, it must have been through practice. Having watched Tae-oh all this time, it was evident that his day was stained with dance and song until he lay down in bed. At night, he would lie in bed and review his body’s movements by watching practice videos taken during the day before falling asleep. He was relentless, in a way.
‘Practice.’
Sol straightened his hunched back. It was somewhat okay when he danced and sang. It wasn’t that he sang well, but rather, his voice was somewhat drowned out by the loud music, so his mistakes weren’t as noticeable, and he felt less embarrassed.
He couldn’t expect such luck in the weekend evaluation. Rather than thinking about wanting to debut because he was good, he thought he had to make Tae-oh, Ji-ho, Ga-ram, and Deuk-yong debut this time. The desire to achieve the quest he had reluctantly undertaken suddenly surged.
But now, alone in the quiet practice room, when he tried to sing alone, his lips dried up. Sol moistened his lips with his tongue and cleared his throat, singing each word of the lyrics rhythmically and steadily. The shaky pitch and rhythm gradually fell into place.
The voice echoing in the quiet practice room sounded particularly loud, exposing the amateurish skill. If Ji-ho had heard it, he would have burst into laughter. His voice itself was a calm falsetto, but he couldn’t hide the anxiety, causing it to tremble like a goat’s cry. He often ended the notes without confidence, letting them blur or fall, just like when he spoke.
After singing once, the fiery expression on his face subsided a bit. Sol gradually lost confidence and struggled to regain control over the faltering pitch as he sang. After singing twice in a row and taking a moment to soothe his throat with a sip of water, the door to the practice room creaked open, and Eun-gyeom’s brown hair peeked in.
this story is so fun
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