Sol’s sudden embrace froze Ga-ram stiff, but his rigid reaction was the last thing on Sol’s mind. What mattered more was the concept card flickering before his eyes.
It wasn’t the kind of hanbok that Deuk-yong had described—the sort that evoked images of warriors or nobles. Though too plain and underwhelming for a stage costume, the outfit Sol wore in the card was unmistakably traditional.
He’d worried about burning through all his tickets without pulling a usable outfit, but in the end, he’d managed to get it. As the tension drained from his body, Sol’s legs trembled so badly he thought they might give out. If he let go of Ga-ram now, he’d probably collapse onto the bathroom floor—so he held on even tighter.
Clueless about Sol’s inner turmoil, Ga-ram only blushed in his arms. Stiff as a statue, he stared rigidly at the ceiling, unable to meet Sol’s gaze. He stood there, straight as a broomstick, until he noticed the faint tremor in Sol’s arms. Glancing down, he murmured,
“Sol… you’re not crying, are you?”
His earlier “I’m fine” hadn’t been convincing. Was he hiding in the bathroom because he was hurt or uncomfortable? Guilt prickled at Ga-ram—what if he’d intruded on Sol’s alone time? Sol made a muffled noise of denial, but Ga-ram wouldn’t feel at ease until he saw his face.
Though Sol was holding Ga-ram, their height difference left Sol effectively cradled in his arms. He tried to look down, but Sol’s face was buried too deeply against his chest. All he could see was the curve of a pale cheek, slightly squished and puffed up from the pressure.
Sol wasn’t one to have particularly chubby cheeks, but the fierce embrace had rounded them out like soft, doughy buns. The plump flesh looked irresistibly squishable—Ga-ram fought the urge to poke or stretch it, his hands twitching uselessly in the air.
He bit his lip hard. Ugh. Sol’s arms around him felt like they were made of warm feathers. The ticklish sensation wasn’t even intentional, yet every spot Sol touched itched unbearably. Just ten seconds— if he held still for ten more seconds, the tingling would overwhelm him, and he’d probably yank Sol into a crushing hug. Gritting his teeth, Ga-ram clenched his lips shut. But as his patience wore thin, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind:
“Is this because I wouldn’t let you wink?”
“Huh…? No, it’s not that.”
At Ga-ram’s nonsense, Sol’s eyes widened into perfect circles as he stared up at him. Ga-ram had his chin tilted high, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The concept card blocked Sol’s view, leaving only the sharp angle of Ga-ram’s jaw and the bridge of his nose visible—even those were partly obscured by the card’s image. Likewise, Sol’s expression was baffled, but Ga-ram, too busy suppressing his own dark greed, couldn’t get a proper look at Sol’s face. Not that he could’ve anyway—if he lowered his head to meet Sol’s eyes, those soft strands of hair would sway perilously close, brushing against the edge of his jaw.
Sol’s hair, bleached to near-white, still gleamed with a silky sheen. It suited him perfectly, of course, but something about that silver made Ga-ram’s fingers itch to touch it. He’d often sneakily run his hands through it, already too familiar with how those fine strands slipped like silk between his fingers. And that knowledge only tormented him more.
"You’re not hurt or upset about something, are you?"
"No."
"Then why are you shaking like this?"
When Ga-ram pressed the question, Sol shook his head against his chest. Truthfully, Sol was just as flustered by the situation. The moment he’d pulled the card he wanted, sheer joy had made him impulsively throw his arms around Ga-ram. It almost felt like Ga-ram’s perfectly timed arrival had brought him luck. The embrace had been reflexive, but as the tension drained from his body, his legs wobbled, leaving him clinging even tighter instead of pulling away.
Now, as his mind cleared, embarrassment crept in. Sol had always avoided physical contact—no matter how startled he was or how hard he fell. But trying to put distance between them now would mean awkwardly shoving Ga-ram away, which felt just as impossible. Should he bring up comfort again, like yesterday? Sol rolled the thought around in his head. Meanwhile, time ticked on, and Ga-ram’s fingers hovered uselessly in the air.
"Sol…"
"Ga-ram… why’s your heartbeat so loud?"
Ga-ram had been about to suggest they head back to the practice room, but those words slammed his mouth shut.
"It’s just—"
Sol’s single remark sent Ga-ram’s pulse into overdrive. Whether it was the adrenaline or something else, his face burned scarlet. His hand, which had been drifting aimlessly in the air, finally crossed the line—grabbing Sol’s shoulder in a tight grip. Ga-ram squeezed his eyes shut, unable to muster an excuse. He tried to calm his traitorously loud heart, taking slow, deliberate breaths, but the harder he tried, the clearer the pounding echoed in Sol’s ears.
"It’s going crazy. Did I scare you?"
Ga-ram had no idea how fast things would move. Sol let out a bright, carefree laugh as if the sun itself had spilled from his lips. It was a laugh utterly unburdened, as though he simply thought Ga-ram had been startled when he suddenly pulled him into an embrace, nearly toppling them over. It was so innocent, so unbearably pure, that Ga-ram’s face twisted with guilt. He was the only one here stained and rotten. His hand, which had writhed in midair to resist temptation, now felt futile.
Watching Sol laugh so brightly, oblivious to Ga-ram’s turmoil and the darkness festering inside him, left Ga-ram utterly deflated. Sol’s laughter rang out as he relaxed his arms. The moment the strength left his embrace, the space between them widened, a gap neither had intended.
"It’s nothing. I was just… happy to see you."
No matter how many acting lessons Sol took, he’d never had a knack for it—especially lying. His words and expressions always betrayed him, awkward and transparent. The more he practiced, the more obvious it became, so he’d resolved not to force it. More than anything, he didn’t want to lie—not to Ga-ram, not to Tae-oh, not to any of the members. He’d just… omit things. This time, he left the subject unspoken.
He couldn’t say he’d hugged Ga-ram out of sheer joy over drawing the right card. Any other excuse would only make Ga-ram worry something was wrong. This was the best option. After all, it was true—he had been happy.
Sol’s natural words and laughter flushed Ga-ram’s face so red it couldn’t possibly redden further. Misreading his crimson cheeks as flustered embarrassment, Sol only laughed harder. For a moment, it felt like they’d slipped back to their school days, messing around with friends, laughing without a care.
"Did I scare you that much?"
"Y… yeah."
Ga-ram raised a hand to cover his mouth, his long fingers half-hiding his burning face. Sol’s smile softened, reassuring him nothing was wrong—no pain, no discomfort. Ga-ram couldn’t bear to look at him directly, shielding his face and even turning his gaze away.
Sol gave Ga-ram’s shoulder a light pat before slipping past him. Leaving Ga-ram behind in the bathroom without making it awkward, Sol stepped into the hallway and drew a deep breath. Maybe those acting lessons hadn’t been completely useless. Giving Ga-ram the time he needed to compose himself, Sol didn’t hesitate—his eyes locked onto the concept card still hovering in his vision.
[ROUND 2: HARMONY STAR CONCEPT ACTIVATED.]
Only when Sol finally nodded did the system windows vanish from sight. The relief was like a rotten tooth finally pulled—his heart felt lighter than air. His steps toward the practice room practically sprouted wings. Meanwhile, Ga-ram remained rooted in the bathroom, weighed down by emotions he couldn’t name, standing stiff and alone.
"What? Sol, did something good happen?"
"How did you know?"
As soon as Sol opened the practice room door and walked in, Ji-ho abruptly asked Sol. At Ji-ho’s eerily perceptive remark, Sol wondered if he’d been too obvious and rubbed the corners of his mouth with his palm.
"What, what is it? Tell me too. Let’s be happy together."
Ji-ho narrowed his eyes sleepily and inched closer to Sol. With a mischievous, sly grin, he suddenly wrapped his arms around Sol’s waist from behind. Then, resting his chin on Sol’s shoulder, he whispered into his ear, "What is it, what is it?" The ticklish sensation of Ji-ho’s laughter-filled breath made Sol shudder and frantically rub his ear.
With Ji-ho holding him by the waist, Sol let himself be guided wherever Ji-ho turned. Still hugging Sol, Ji-ho waddled in a clumsy circle like a penguin before stopping to look at Tae-oh. Leaning against Sol’s shoulder, Ji-ho’s face wore an infuriating smirk—at least, that’s how Tae-oh saw it.
"Ji-ho hyung, that tickles."
"Come on. Did something happen with Ga-ram? Tell me too."
The moment the name "Ga-ram" left Ji-ho’s lips, Tae-oh’s eyes seemed to widen in realization. Not long after Sol had stepped out, Ga-ram had excused himself to go to the bathroom, and now his empty seat stood out. Both Sol and Ji-ho were smiling at Tae-oh the same way, but was it just his imagination? They looked completely different. To Tae-oh, Ji-ho seemed to have some ulterior motive—like he was stirring the pot on purpose.
"Good news? Did Sol hyung take a huge dump? A satisfying one?"
Deuk-yong, oblivious to the tense standoff between Tae-oh and Ji-ho, shattered the moment. At his blunt remark, Ji-ho immediately scowled and shook his head in disapproval.
"Kim Deuk-yong. You’re the one who does that, not Sol."
"The cameras."
This time, not just Ji-ho but Tae-oh—the leader—joined in scolding him.
"Aww… come on. We’re human too…"
Under the two hyungs’ reprimands, Deuk-yong stuck out his tongue. Pouting with clear dissatisfaction, he turned to the camera and pleaded, "Please edit this out. I’m begging you."
