“Ji-ho hyung, where are the others?”
At Sol’s question, Ji-ho raised his hand and pointed in the opposite direction. In that spot stood dancers dressed entirely in black, their faces completely covered. Although their faces were veiled with thin black fabric, they didn’t seem to have much trouble moving, as if they could still see through it.
Sol was momentarily speechless as he watched. Even though their faces were hidden, their familiar body shapes and movements were still visible in various ways.
“…Are you filming like this?”
They were the dancers and members he had been practicing with. While Sol could recognize who was who by their distinct movements, people watching the video wouldn’t be able to tell them apart at all.
“Yeah, that’s right. Still, it’s a privilege to even get this kind of experience.”
“But still…”
“What do you mean ‘but still’? Don’t make that face. Just being able to participate in this way is a big deal. There are countless trainees who don’t even get this kind of opportunity.”
Sol understood that this was Eun-gyeom’s music video and accepted it logically, but seeing the members blending into the background, dressed entirely in black, left him feeling a bit disappointed. It was only then that he realized, not having cared much before, that he himself had never paid attention to backup dancers while watching other artists’ music videos or performances.
He couldn’t help but think of Deuk-yong, who had been bouncing around with excitement since last night, Tae-oh, who put his all into every move without slacking off, and Ga-ram, who had practiced tirelessly, despite constant corrections. And right next to him was Ji-ho, who, like him, couldn’t even participate and just watched over the others. Sol’s eyes lingered on Tae-oh, whose distinct physique and movements stood out even with the black cloth covering him.
“…Wouldn’t it have been better if Tae-oh had taken my spot instead?”
Sol muttered to himself. Watching the other members, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the opportunity given to him was too much, undeserved even. With such hardworking people in front of him, he began to question whether he was the right one to take this chance. Ji-ho, having heard Sol’s mumbling, nudged him gently in the ribs with his elbow.
“Sol-ah, earlier you were the one who said you should do it! Besides, Ga-ram and Deuk-yong would be upset hearing you say that.”
Startled by the sudden nudge, Sol turned to look at Ji-ho. Ji-ho stuck his lips out dramatically, pouting at Sol and glaring at him, in a way that seemed more fitting for a younger sibling than the oldest member. Embarrassed, Sol made a belated excuse.
“It’s just… I thought someone else might have done a better job. Everyone is so eager.”
“Whoa there, Sung Sol, starting today, no more false modesty. And stop talking like you don’t really care.”
“Well... I mean…”
Sol trailed off in response to Ji-ho’s words. He couldn’t say that he wasn’t desperate. In fact, his life was practically on the line, so he might have been even more desperate than Tae-oh or the other members. He probably looked desperate, too. And the truth was, he actually was. But Sol reflected on today.
Today’s shoot didn’t have any quests, nor did it involve death if he failed. However, he had practiced with all his strength alongside the other members, and he was full of a desire to perform well in today’s shoot. Although things hadn’t gone as smoothly as he hoped. Even he couldn’t quite conclude what he truly felt. It wasn’t just that he worked hard because he didn’t want to disappoint Tae-oh, Ga-ram, Deuk-yong, Ji-ho, and Eun-Gyeom, who were all helping him. There was something more. But it wasn’t as though he suddenly had a strong desire to become an idol, either.
Throughout his time practicing choreography with the members, Eun-Gyeom, and the other dancers, he felt like he had found his place, just like Tae-oh had said. He still had a long way to go and hadn’t fully overcome his trauma, but both the trainers, Tae-oh, and the other members had praised his slow but steady progress, offering him help and support.
Of course, he couldn’t deny the joy of being able to dance again, no matter what kind of dance it was. But more than that, he enjoyed the process of working hard together with these people. As long as they kept watching over him like this, he felt that he could improve day by day, showing a new side of himself. He had found hope and determination.
Ji-ho crossed his arms and snorted playfully at Sol, whose expression had darkened a little. To an outsider, Ji-ho’s expression might have seemed annoyingly smug. With exaggerated gestures and a dramatic tone, he echoed something Sol had once said.
“What was it you said before? ‘Idol life’s not for me,’ or something like that?”
“When did I ever say that?”
“It was close enough.”
“Ji-ho-hyung...”
Feeling awkward as the memory of that moment resurfaced, Sol blushed slightly. Then, feeling embarrassed, he imitated Ji-ho by elongating his name and lightly nudged his arm with her elbow. Ji-ho burst out laughing at Sol’s reaction but quickly looked around, startled by his own laughter. Thankfully, the crew was still busy preparing for the shoot. Eun-Gyeom, the members, and all the dancers were fully engrossed in setting up with the staff.
Watching the other members stretch in their assigned spots, Ji-ho casually spoke up. His tone was curt and sulky, but his voice remained gentle, as always.
“Isn’t it funny how someone who says they don’t want to be an idol pushes themselves so hard day and night?”
At Ji-ho’s words, Sol simply smiled awkwardly, fixing his gaze on the set instead of answering. Ji-ho glanced at Sol’s face, which was wearing an awkward smile, and then looked at the other members as well. The sight of Deuk-yong fumbling around caught his eye—likely because his face was covered with fabric, making it hard for him to see properly.
“Luck and connections are also skills. This opportunity came to you because you worked hard, so it’s yours. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“And if you keep talking like that, Tae-oh and Ga-ram might actually get mad.”
“Yeah.”
Sol was quick to respond, agreeing readily. Ji-ho smirked and side-eyed him. Sol couldn’t even make proper eye contact, and his awkwardness was obvious from his expression. Whenever their eyes met, he’d visibly shrink away, often nodding or trailing off rather than giving a full response. It was hard not to notice how much he was trying. Ji-ho couldn’t help but think, how could anyone hate or ignore someone like that, who wears their effort so plainly on their sleeve? Before Sol’s thoughts could sink further, Ji-ho playfully joked to lighten the mood.
“Relax. It’s not even our music video. We’ll make sure we get our share of screen time when it’s our turn. I’m going to hog all of mine.”
“If you hog everything, hyung, people will think you’re a solo artist.”
“Then I’ll give you 10 seconds.”
“Hyung… that’s a bit stingy.”
“Stingy? Fine, I’ll give you 30 seconds.”
Ji-ho held up three fingers toward Sol, as if he was being generous. Sol shook his head, chuckling softly. These days, Sol smiled a lot more, and it was a good look for him. With such a handsome face, on top of being well-dressed and smiling often, there was no way he didn’t look great.
As the shoot was about to officially start, the atmosphere changed, and Eun-gyeom’s solo song echoed through the set. It was a song Sol had heard countless times, enough to sing it as if it were his own.
Maybe it was because there were so many people involved in the scene, but the shoot wasn’t going smoothly. Eun-gyeom, the main character, kept monitoring the footage and discussing things with the director, apologizing and asking to shoot just one more time. Standing off to the side with Ji-ho, Sol watched, and suddenly, Eun-gyeom seemed like a confident adult who knew what he was doing.
Was it because Sol hadn’t managed to reach that level at his age? Even Ju-hwan, who resembled Eun-gyeom in some ways, had never shown such confidence. Perhaps that’s why Eun-gyeom’s serious demeanor looked so professional and cool. Of course, the other members were just as impressive. There wasn’t a single flaw in Tae-oh’s movements, and Ga-ram, who had drilled his routine tirelessly, was improving with each take.
Even Deuk-yong, who had been overly excited earlier, now seemed serious. But on the other hand, Sol also worried about his members standing in the cold set, dressed in thin outfits. As Sol continued to observe Eun-gyeom and everyone else, he heard Ji-ho’s quiet voice calling him.
“Sol-ah.”
Sol, who had been deeply engrossed in filming, tilted his head and looked at Ji-ho. After hesitating for a moment, Ji-ho, as he always did, smiled brightly and asked him a question.
“What were you talking about with Eun-gyeom sunbae earlier?”
“He just... complimented me and asked if I felt burdened about the music video shoot.”
Nodding, Sol answered Ji-ho’s question. Thinking back, if Eun-gyeom hadn’t helped, they might still be filming that short scene, or worse, he might have been kicked off the set. Perhaps, because of him, the whole team could have ended up in trouble. Ji-ho’s expression twisted into a frown as if he found Sol’s answer strange.
“Tae Eun-gyeom?”
“Yeah.”
When Ji-ho, looking completely displeased, asked for confirmation, Sol nodded firmly. Ji-ho’s odd expression and reaction made Sol cautiously ask, watching his face for clues.
“Why? What’s wrong, Ji-ho hyung?”
“It’s nothing. Just... it seems like he’s been paying a lot of attention to you, even during practice.”
Seeing Sol observing him closely, Ji-ho relaxed his expression and raised his eyebrows. Just as Ji-ho said, Eun-gyeom had been especially considerate and kind to Sol throughout their practice sessions. Whenever a move didn’t satisfy him, he would quietly call him aside to guide him, and perhaps because he understood his struggles, even when he made mistakes, he never raised his voice at him. As Sol recalled Eun-gyeom’s gentle demeanor, he agreed with Ji-ho’s words. He felt burdened by how much help he had received from him.
“Yeah, so... it feels kind of bad that I’ve only been on the receiving end of his help...”
There was nothing he could do to repay Eun-gyeom. Though they were friends and juniors, the fact that he had only received help without being able to return any made him feel guilty. He wished he could repay him someday, but he wondered if such a day would ever come. Seeing the heaviness on Sol’s face, Ji-ho grabbed his arm and sharply asked,
“Why? Did he ask you for something?”
Not only Ji-ho’s expression but also the sharp tone in his voice conveyed a sense of tension to Sol.
