A competitive society. It was an obvious statement. Everything in the world revolved around competition. Even more so in a family like Ji-ho’s, where there were many siblings; competition was a part of daily life. Not all parents could afford to evenly provide opportunities to all their children.
There came a moment when Ji-ho felt a sense of repulsion towards himself for having adapted too much to the internal system of the agency. When new trainees arrived, he wasn’t curious about their names or anything like that. He was only interested in which agency they had come from, what position they were confident in, and how skilled they were.
At YC, many more trainees came and went compared to now. Eventually, he couldn’t even remember the faces or names of the trainees staying in the same dormitory who had fallen behind in the competition.
The nationwide competition alone made him painfully aware that he was just a frog in a well. What would happen when people from all over the world flocked in? The emotional battles of the increasingly sensitive trainees reached their peak, turning into acts of bullying specific weaker individuals. For instance, foreign trainees who couldn’t communicate smoothly, or...
Ji-ho glanced over. Momentarily lost in thought, he looked at Sol. At that moment, memories from those days flashed through his mind, and the phrase “like Sung Sol” circled in his head. If Sol had been in such a place, he would have been an easy target. He would have been pushed around, bullied, and ultimately broken down even more than now. It was painful to witness such things. Even though he hadn’t participated in the bullying, standing by and doing nothing was also a sin. Guilt constantly weighed on his heart.
Yet, he also found it hard to endure himself silently judging those kids. He thought of his siblings at home. Each time, he found himself becoming weaker among the trainees. He felt that if he weakened just a little more, he might be the next target. They say being scouted by another agency sounded good, but strictly speaking, he had run away before he was eliminated.
Even after arriving at YC, Ji-ho couldn’t let go of that mindset. He judged the other trainees he first met, evaluating them like a trainer and ranking them from first to last in his mind. The pool of trainees in a small agency was pretty much the same. But that thought didn’t last long. Once again, he realized that he was just a frog in a well.
By the time Ji-ho transferred to YC, Eun-gyeom had already established a certain standing within the agency. Everyone expected a lot from him, and every trainee would acknowledge him when it came to “Tae Eun-gyeom.” To such a Eun-gyeom, Ji-ho’s arrival—from a major agency and had proven his skills through an audition program—naturally felt like a threat.
To Ji-ho, who was accustomed to all kinds of mind games and schemes among trainees in large agencies, Eun-gyeom’s feelings were all too clear. He should have brushed it off nonchalantly, but in his youth, he couldn’t do that. He thought Eun-gyeom was well within his grasp. As if he was someone great, but in reality, he was just a mediocre person who had been pushed out of the competition. From that day, an invisible psychological battle between Eun-gyeom and Ji-ho began.
Unfortunately, it was over the main vocal position, but the atmosphere favored Ji-ho. Having received more systematic training at a larger company, Ji-ho was fresher than Eun-gyeom, who was already a caught fish, and generally received better reviews. As the situation repeated itself, whether they wanted it or not, a faction-like division naturally formed around the two within the dormitory. That’s when Deuk-yong entered the dormitory. The exceptionally young youngest.
What was his first impression of Deuk-yong? Ji-ho felt relieved. When Deuk-yong introduced himself as a rapper, Ji-ho was momentarily reassured, and then felt a chill realizing how easily he had thought of treating Deuk-yong like a younger brother if they were not in the same position. He realized he was creating the same atmosphere as at his previous agency, the one he had left because he hated it. Now he was recreating it alongside Eun-gyeom. What if Deuk-yong had aimed to be a vocalist? What if he had been skilled enough to pose a real threat?
Countless times, Ji-ho told himself internally not to behave this way, not to judge people, but breaking away from long-established ways of thinking was difficult. Of course, it was still the same now. Still, he learned something that day. Naturally, as a person, it was inevitable to compare oneself with others, to compete, and to feel jealousy. It was a given, but he didn’t want to be swept away by jealousy and competition.
Everyone else was attending academies, so he felt he should go too. Everyone was carrying the latest brand-name clothes and bags, so he felt he should buy them as well. Otherwise, he would feel left behind. The urge to push someone down and win was strong. Paradoxically, the more he acted on that urge, the less satisfied he became and the more he seemed to regress. Or perhaps it was just the growing anxiety of wondering what others thought of him.
One couldn’t change overnight, but he tried to change every moment so as not to repeat his past actions. That effort was still ongoing. Ji-ho had stepped back from the competition, but Eun-gyeom had no intention of doing the same. When Ji-ho took a step back, Eun-gyeom’s sly actions became more noticeable, but Ji-ho chose not to react. It wasn’t easy, of course.
Eun-gyeom’s passive-aggressive gossiping and actions that stirred up the people around them annoyed him to no end, making Ji-ho’s blood boil. It was then that he noticed Tae-oh. Tae-oh seemed to live in his own world, minding his own business, no matter what anyone else said or did. Even if someone insulted him to his face, he would not change his expression and would just go back to practicing. Ji-ho began to imitate Tae-oh’s behavior.
Whatever Eun-gyeom did, standing beside Tae-oh and quietly doing what he had to do helped Ji-ho forget what he was angry about. That’s how, naturally, the current members ended up sticking by Tae-oh. Ji-ho, before he knew it, found himself looking at Sol, whose makeup was now done. When Ji-ho first met Sol, he treated him the same way he had before, thinking, “Old habits die hard.”
As time passed, Ji-ho realized Sol, much like Tae-oh, lived a difficult life, but he could sense they were of the same kind. As they spent more time together, Ji-ho saw that Sung Sol was actually quite timid and clumsy, but was a good guy. Even now, though he wouldn’t say it, Ji-ho could see that Sol’s restless, worried eyes held a lot of concern, thinking he was just playing around.
At first, Ji-ho hadn’t noticed, but over time, he realized that Sol was the type to hold back his words, especially about how he was feeling or his current state. Ji-ho smiled twice as brightly, as if for both of them. When he smiled broadly, as if it were nothing, the anxious look in Sol’s eyes finally settled. Ji-ho glanced around the waiting room to make sure no one else was there, then winked at Sol.
“It’s normal for only one person the company is pushing to appear in something like this. It’s not our music video, after all.”
“…But still, only me, hyung you…”
“If Tae-oh were here, he would just tell you to be grateful for even having such an opportunity and to work hard.”
“Well, that’s true, but... Hyung would be better at it than me...”
“Of course, I’d do it well.”
Ji-ho laughed, his eyes crinkling mischievously like a fox, and he joked shamelessly.
“But you’ll do well too. Everyone will do well.”
“Yeah, everyone will do well.”
Hearing Ji-ho’s words, Sol repeated to himself, “I just have to do well.” It was obvious that he was the weak link among the members, the one with the biggest problem.
“No, if you do too well, you’ll get edited out. You have to do just well enough. So don’t feel pressured and just do it moderately.”
“What does that mean, Hyung? Are you telling me to do well or not...?”
“I’m serious. If you stand out more than the main character, you’ll get cut.”
When Sol looked at Ji-ho with a conflicted expression, Ji-ho made a scissor gesture with his fingers, pretending to snip. Seeing the anxiety and worry on Sol’s face, Ji-ho moved closer and patted him on the shoulder. It was a half-joking, half-serious remark, meant to ease the burden Sol seemed to be feeling about having to perform exceptionally well.
Ji-ho knew that Sol was struggling with the idea of standing in front of the camera, so he said it to lighten the mood, but it was also true. The other members, who were already filming outside, were also covering their faces with a black cloth under the guise of “concept.” On video, it would be impossible to tell who was who unless you were one of them. There were no particular complaints; after all, it was Eun-gyum’s music video.
“What was your role again?”
“A deadly and charismatic villain? I’m supposed to be the boss?”
At Ji-ho’s question, Sol repeated what he’d heard before, looking quite unsure. Ji-ho then slightly furrowed his brow and raised his eyes. A faint, sly smile flickered across Ji-ho’s face, which usually wore a cheerful expression.
“A boss, huh... How about giving a look like this?”
It wasn’t a particularly unique or impressive expression or pose, but it was a piece of advice recalling the time when Sol’s frown had been an issue during the last profile shoot. Since it was hard for Sol to keep a neutral expression in front of the camera, Ji-ho figured that frowning might be easier for him.
“Like this?”
However, because it wasn’t a deliberately intended expression, when he was suddenly given the opportunity to try it, he did it awkwardly.
“No, a bit more. Like this! When we first met, we were being annoying and you got upset. Like back then.”
“It wasn’t that bad... Everyone had a reason to be mad.”
“Hmm, is there anyone you dislike or hate?”
“Someone I dislike?”
“Other than me.”
“Ji-ho hyung, I don’t dislike you.”
It was a comment meant as a joke, but Sol took Ji-ho’s joke seriously and his face hardened. Seeing Sol become serious, like Tae-oh, saying he didn’t dislike him, Ji-ho was momentarily lost for words and stared blankly at him before belatedly bursting into laughter.
“I know. I’m just joking. Our Sol actually likes hyung, right?”
When Ji-ho laughed out loud, Sol finally realized a bit late that Ji-ho’s comment was a joke, and his cheeks flushed. Sol, who always kept a distance from those around him and was often misunderstood as ‘disliking’ people, didn’t take Ji-ho’s words as a joke. Feeling embarrassed, Sol looked at his reflection in the mirror and tried to change the subject.
“Do you think I can do well?”
“You just have to do it moderately.”
“I think it would be better if someone else did it.”
“Sol-ah, stop being so insecure. This is an opportunity given to you. Who else would take your place?”
Ji-ho placed both hands on Sol’s shoulders and looked at the mirror. The faces of the two people, with different expressions, were clearly reflected in the mirror.
They were two faces with completely opposite atmospheres.
