The unsteady Sol embraced Tae-oh. As their chests pressed together, the pounding of their hearts resonated between them. Even though they were both wearing thick hoodies, it felt as if they were bare, skin against skin—every detail of Tae-oh's embrace felt achingly vivid.
Unlike his racing heart, Sol's mind had completely shut down. His thoughts went blank, and he simply held onto Tae-oh, unable to do anything else. Like a paused scene from a movie, the two of them remained locked in the embrace, letting time slip by unnoticed.
With every exhale, Tae-oh’s chest swelled and his shoulders moved. Each tiny movement of his body was out of sync with Sol's. When Tae-oh inhaled, Sol exhaled; when Tae-oh exhaled, Sol breathed in. Their hearts pounded so close together that Sol couldn't tell whether the heartbeat in his ears was his own or Tae-oh's. Frozen in place, Sol felt like he had malfunctioned—as if not just he, but even time itself had stopped.
How long had they stayed like that, holding each other? Unlike his frantic heartbeat, Sol blinked slowly, stealing a glance at Tae-oh. All he could see was the curve of Tae-oh’s neatly trimmed hair at the back of his head and the tips of his ears, flushed red. Heat radiated from him, even to Sol’s cheek. Every breath Sol took carried the faint scent of Tae-oh—a scent he had smelled every morning when Tae-oh applied his skincare. It was so familiar, yet suddenly, it felt new, almost intoxicating. Before he knew it, Sol rested his chin on Tae-oh's shoulder and took a deeper breath.
“…Sorry.”
Tae-oh’s lips barely moved. His voice, slipping through the small gap between them, tickled Sol’s ears. With his apology, Tae-oh loosened his firm grip on Sol’s wrist, but Sol didn’t let go of him. That one short word from Tae-oh carried so much—this embrace was both a comfort for Sol and a comfort for himself.
“Just for a little while… let’s hold onto each other like this.”
His voice, trembling against Sol’s cheek rather than his ear, made Sol murmur back a soft, almost inaudible, “Okay.” It was such a small sound that it could have been swallowed by the air, but with how tightly they were pressed together, Tae-oh heard it clearly.
This was more than just a hug. It was an act of clinging onto each other, of holding on tightly to stop the other from running away. Tighter. Stronger.
The chill of the winter night clung to Tae-oh’s skin when he returned, but as their bodies pressed together, Sol’s warmth seeped into him. Even after their temperatures evened out, their hearts continued to race wildly, refusing to calm down. The intensity of it was almost frightening. As time passed, Sol, buried in Tae-oh’s arms, turned just as red as the tip of Tae-oh’s ear pressing against his cheek.
His frenzied heartbeat, the tingling sensation running through his body, the overwhelming heat between them—everything felt too much. Sol wrapped his arms tightly around Tae-oh’s broad back, but as he leaned into his shoulder, a strange sense of calm settled over him. The chaotic blankness in his mind finally cleared. And with that, Sol finally loosened his grip around Tae-oh.
As the strength drained from Sol's tightly gripped arm, Tae-oh straightened his body, which had been leaning toward him. When their flushed faces met properly, an awkward atmosphere settled between them. Overcome by a sudden surge of emotion and impulse, Tae-oh had unconsciously pulled Sol into an embrace—and he immediately regretted his actions. How startled Sol must have been.
"You were surprised, right? I'm sorry."
"No... It's okay."
At Tae-oh's apology, Sol covered his burning red cheeks with his hand as he responded. Although an awkward silence stretched between them, unlike the quiet stillness that filled the practice room, Sol's heart pounded wildly. It was impossible to calm down—it was more than just surprise making it race.
"You must be really exhausted today."
"...More than I expected."
At Tae-oh's response, Sol simply nodded gently without saying a word. To hide his flushed cheeks and steady his wildly thumping heart, Sol averted his gaze from Tae-oh and stared straight ahead. Tae-oh, too, seemed overwhelmed by belated embarrassment from his impulsive action, unable to look at Sol directly. Unlike his usual self, who always faced forward with unwavering focus, his dark pupils wandered restlessly, unable to find a place to settle.
Sol wondered if his heart might just burst from beating so fast. It pounded so hard it was almost worrying. He felt that if he tried to say something to Tae-oh, his heart would leap and drop to the floor.
Was the system trying to help him? A notification window appeared like a bucket of cold water.
<Quest: Now It's Time to Show!>
You've successfully passed Round 1, but this is just the beginning. In Round 2 of My Idol Stars' vocal mission, achieve a ranking of 3rd place or higher.
Bonus Mission: Receive two compliments from members about your "singing" after the Round 2 stage.
Success Reward: Round 2 Reward Box (Bonus Mission Success: Random Gold Concept Ticket x1)
Failure: System termination (or equivalent penalty).
Unlike the first encounter quest, this notification arrived at an odd timing. Sometimes, it appeared early as if spoiling things, and at other times, it came late at its own whim. Were there specific conditions for triggering quests? There was no way to find out.
As Sol dismissed the quest notification, the screen immediately shifted to a concept selection display, just like during the first encounter quest.
<Round 2 Harmony Star Edition>
★R - ★SR Concepts Unlocked!
[ Single Draw | Ten Draws ]
Having tried it once, Sol got a rough sense of how it worked. It seemed like there was no need to pull again right away. Everything felt chaotic, and since he had fallen asleep immediately before, he hadn’t even checked the reward box from the last mission’s success yet. Unlike before, the text saying “★Guaranteed SSR” had disappeared. After confirming this, Sol shook his head and closed the notification window.
Sol suddenly worried whether Tae-oh would find it strange that he was staring blankly into space. Quickly turning his head, he looked at Tae-oh. Tae-oh, still caught up in self-reproach and embarrassment over his impulsive actions, was in the middle of some belated self-reflection. The awkward silence dragged on, making Sol feel like he needed to say something in his defense, but he was never good with words and felt confused about what to say.
Seeing Sol share the same emotions with a soft smile, Tae-oh wanted nothing more than to pull him into a tight embrace. But that wasn’t all—deep down, he wanted to do more. For instance, he wanted to bury his nose in the soft skin of Sol’s cheek and neck or press his lips against him. Instead of his frail wrists, which never seemed to gain weight no matter how much Ji-ho fed him, he wanted to lace their fingers tightly together, intertwining them firmly.
Tae-oh ran his hand through his hair in frustration and pressed his fingers against his forehead. Was the pressure weighing on his shoulders also pressing down on his head? He had to be out of his mind.
Since his conversation with Ga-ram, Tae-oh had realized that his gaze toward Sol didn’t stem from just simple feelings. However, he wasn’t certain exactly what those feelings were or what he wanted to do about them. So he hovered uncertainly at the boundary, unable to step forward. Whenever Ji-ho or Ga-ram subtly stuck close to Sol, his nerves were on edge. As for Tae Eun-gyeom, that was an entirely different matter. Just this morning, thanks to Tae Eun-gyeom, he had momentarily crossed that boundary before pulling back again.
Trying not to make it obvious, he deliberately avoided sitting right next to Sol at times. Other times, he simply stepped back, observing from a distance as if to gauge the situation. But inevitably, when jealousy flared up, he found himself stepping right into the middle of it.
He knew exactly what this emotion was called—jealousy. During his trainee days, he had felt it constantly, almost daily. But this was different. The emotions he had toward Sol weren’t good for the team, nor for the path they were supposed to take. He knew that well. But no matter how much he understood it rationally, the moment he let his guard down, he would cross the boundary again.
Watching Sol sleeping soundly in the same room, looking down at his face as he groggily answered with his eyes still closed in the morning, Tae-oh sometimes wished that Sol would just notice these uncomfortable emotions.
Yoon Tae-oh was someone who was told every day that he was expressionless and dry. On the other hand, Sung Sol was someone who had no sense of others but was always scanning for cues.
'There’s no way he’d ever notice.'
Every time those innocent, gleaming eyes sparkled as he smiled and simply said “thank you” without knowing anything, Tae-oh felt almost guilty for harboring these emotions. How did things end up this way? When they first met, he was sure that rather than this, they would become sworn enemies. The tangle of emotions and frustration, combined with the reality of facing family again after such a long time, overwhelmed him.
The only consolation was that Sol was so kind-hearted that he seemed to believe Tae-oh’s actions were simply because he was exhausted and in need of comfort. While it was a relief, it also left a bitter feeling inside him. Tae-oh rubbed his chest lightly with his fist, trying to ease the ache.
At that moment, Sol, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly stood up. He had surprised Tae-oh more than once—someone who rarely got startled. Whether it was furrowing his brows intensely on stage or breathing strangely enough to cause concern, Sol had a way of catching him off guard. And now, he had leaped to his feet so abruptly it was almost as if he were having a seizure.
For a moment, Tae-oh worried—had Sol noticed his unsettling, complicated emotions? Was he uncomfortable with the hug from earlier, enough to get up and storm out? Slowly and cautiously, Tae-oh looked up at Sol, who had risen so suddenly. It had become second nature to observe his expression carefully, searching for even the smallest sign of discomfort. However, the bright practice room lights were too glaring, making it difficult for him to see Sol’s face clearly.
“…Tae-oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
Hearing Sol call his name, Tae-oh slowly stood up to check his expression.
“A moment ago… that.”
“That?”
“That… when we hugged. The camera probably caught it, right?”
Sol lifted a finger, pointing toward the surveillance camera installed in the corner of the practice room ceiling.
