Perhaps because it was the second time, the atmosphere on set felt distinctly different from the first shoot. Unlike the initial filming—where separate waiting rooms were assigned, rehearsals were conducted individually, and there had been no chance to face the other participants. But this time, everyone had gathered on set while rehearsals were in full swing.
Sol and the other members arrived last, even though they had been the first to reach the filming location. It was because of Sol. The Stability Potion was absolutely necessary for any future performances, but its supply was limited. Ideally, Sol would have taken it at the dorm and arrived already stabilized, but using it so carelessly felt too risky.
Sol had boarded the van with grim determination, thinking that even if it was difficult, he could endure until rehearsal—or at least until right before the stage—before taking the potion. With the penalty now reduced to 50%, he figured it would be manageable.
As soon as Sol got in the van, he sat with Ga-ram on his left and Ji-ho on his right, clutching their hands tightly and closing his eyes. But of all days, the roads were unusually congested that morning. Rush hour traffic had piled up, and the street in front of the broadcasting station was a tangled mess. In such chaotic, gridlocked conditions, an accident felt almost inevitable.
As if mocking Sol’s resolve to endure without the potion, a minor collision happened right in front of the van carrying Sol and the members. No one was hurt—it was just a slight dent in the bumpers of two cars—but to Sol, the scene was anything but trivial.
He had thought everything was improving, that things were going smoothly. That arrogance came back to haunt him. As memories of that day resurfaced, Sol’s stomach churned, his face turning pale. Letting go of the two hands he had been gripping, he covered his mouth, and the members’ concern immediately flared up.
Thankfully, Sol didn’t end up showing everyone the breakfast Ji-ho had prepared. But the moment he stepped out of the van, the throbbing headache and nausea forced Sol to take the potion immediately. The effect was so swift and undeniable that it almost made him understand how people could fall into addiction. As if nothing had ever happened, the pain subsided—but despite Sol’s insistence that he was fine, the members made him lie down on the waiting room couch.
Though Sol’s complexion visibly improved and he even waved off concerns, insisting he was okay now, everyone still worried he might collapse at the slightest breeze. Even without words, the weight of their gazes made it clear how uneasy they felt. Overwhelmed by the excessive affection, attention, and worry, Sol didn’t know how to react. It warmed his heart, but guilt always took over first.
Hoping to ease their minds a little, Sol obediently stayed lying down. Ji-ho approached and sat beside him, instinctively reaching to brush Sol’s forehead before stopping abruptly at the stylist’s warning when the neatly styled bangs had been disturbed. Instead, he clasped Sol’s cool, pale hand.
"You were fine for a while, but your motion sickness is really bad today."
"I’m okay now."
The hand holding Sol was warm. Ji-ho's hands were always warm, like his russet-brown hair and his smile. As they held hands, that warmth spread through him, strangely loosening the tension in his chest. Regardless of his guilt, Sol didn’t mind lying there, receiving the warmth of the other's touch. He smiled faintly as he answered. But even with Sol’s smile, Jiho's expression didn’t ease.
“Guess breakfast was too heavy. I shouldn’t have pushed you to eat more…”
It was a meal Ji-ho had prepared early, waking up even before his usual early work schedule. With the limited ingredients at the dorm, he made egg soup and rolled omelets—a breakfast made entirely of eggs, yet somehow it had tasted especially good. When Ji-ho offered him more, Sol had readily agreed. There was no part of it that was Ji-ho’ fault.
“No! I’ve always gotten motion sickness really easily. I ate more because the food was good, not because of you, hyung.”
Sol waved his hands dismissively and tried to bolt upright from the couch. Or at least, he tried to. The moment he lifted his upper body, Ji-ho pressed down on his shoulder, forcing him back onto the sofa.
“Why are you getting up? You’re still pale. Stay lying down.”
“Everyone else is already done getting ready. I should finish up too.”
Sol remained lying on the sofa, eyes scanning the room. The other members had already finished prepping—now it was just a matter of changing into their performance outfits. Between the lingering nausea and the exhaustion of staying still, Sol knew he needed his makeup and hair touched up before going onstage. When he glanced questioningly at the stylist, Tae-oh—who was looking at him with an unreadable look—answered before the stylist could.
“No rush. Take your time.”
A quick glance showed the stylist nodding, as if Tae-oh had already talked to them. As Tae-oh stepped closer to the sofa, Ga-ram and Deuk-yong—who had been standing a step back—also moved to Sol’s side. With everyone gathered around him as he lay there, Sol felt strangely awkward and immediately apologized.
“Sorry…”
“What are you sorry for?”
Ji-ho waved his hand dismissively, as if Sol was apologizing over nothing. Behind the gathered members, Yeong-ho’s face suddenly pushed through. Having stepped out briefly, he now held a cup of warm water to soothe Sol’s unsettled stomach. But even without drinking the hot water, Sol already felt warm—his throat, his chest, his entire body wrapped in a comforting heat.
In the end, as their rehearsal order approached, Sol had to step onto the stage with bangs pinned in place. Unlike before, the participating teams could now watch each other’s rehearsals, and small groups had gathered to sit together. Unintentionally, the attention of the participants focused on the members who had been holed up in the waiting room until the very end.
Even the rehearsal was practice—a final chance to check everything one last time before the real performance. Though it was called a rehearsal, they gave it their all as if it were the real thing. When they came down from the stage, other participants who had been watching closely greeted them.
"Ji-ho. Hey."
A group who had exchanged glances with Ji-ho during the first filming was the first to welcome him. Unlike Tae-oh or Ga-ram, Ji-ho was from a different company, and as someone who had been through audition programs before, it was only natural he’d know some of the other trainees. Sol and the others took it in stride. One of the guys in the group, with bleached blond hair, spoke to Ji-ho with surprising familiarity.
"Long time no see. We didn’t even get to talk last filming. How’ve you been? I wondered where you went—turns out you’re at YC now."
When the blond guy spoke up, Ji-ho, who had been standing behind Sol, pulled him back and stepped forward. Strangely, it almost looked like he was shielding Sol. Pushed back abruptly, Sol tilted his head slightly in confusion. But seeing Ji-ho chatting brightly as usual, he brushed off the unease.
"Yeah, same to you. I thought you’d still be there. You went to Hwarion?"
"Yep. Guess so."
Pushed to the back, Sol stood between Tae-oh and Ga-ram, watching the guy talking to Ji-ho. Hwarion Entertainment—that made him part of Team 5. It was kind of fascinating seeing Ji-ho interact with trainees from other companies, so Sol stared openly. Had Ji-ho been this attentive with his old practice mates too? Knowing him, he probably had been.
Just as Sol assumed it was a normal reunion, the blond guy let out a stifled laugh.
"Man, you really…"
The tone was vague but unpleasant enough that Sol glanced at Ji-ho. With his back turned, his expression wasn’t visible, but his laughter sounded unbothered. Wondering if he was overreacting, Sol side-eyed the other members. He wasn’t the only one who caught the weird vibe—Deuk-yong, standing at the edge, was glaring at the blond guy with sharp eyes. To those close to him, it might’ve just been a stare, but with his intense features, it came off downright threatening.
"Oh, aren’t you gonna introduce us? Hi, I’m Myung-ha from Hwarion. Ji-ho and I used to be at the same company."
Was it because Deuk-yong’s gaze was too intense? The man who had been chatting quietly with Ji-ho suddenly glanced past Ji-ho’s shoulder and greeted Sol. Sol, who had locked eyes with the blond man—Myung-ha, as he introduced himself—instinctively bowed his head in response. Just as Sol was about to introduce himself, Ji-ho cut in.
“Didn’t we agree not to use personal stage names or the team name until after the live broadcast is confirmed?”
“It’s not like we’re on air, and we all know each other anyway.”
“You might slip up in an interview later. Be careful, Myung-ha.”
Ji-ho’s tone was as warm and gentle as ever. Yet, for some reason, Sol couldn’t shake off an uneasy feeling. Even now, it felt like Ji-ho was deliberately blocking Sol from Myung-ha’s line of sight. Sure enough, Ji-ho didn’t give Myung-ha a chance to react before saying goodbye.
“We still have preparations to finish, so we need to head back to the waiting room. See you when filming starts.”
Despite his friendly tone, Ji-ho quickly turned away, guiding Sol toward the waiting room. But then Myung-ha’s voice, sharp against the back of his head, made him glance back.
“Wow, you haven’t changed at all.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just nice to see you’re still the same. Let’s both survive this stage, yeah?”
Both Ji-ho and Myung-ha kept their smiles and affectionate tone, but Sol’s chest felt oddly tight. Myung-ha waved, tossing words of encouragement to the members. As Ji-ho urged them forward with a quick “You’ll do great,” Sol gave a half-hearted nod in Myung-ha’s direction before following Ji-ho. Something felt off—irritating, even—but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
Ji-ho’s expression remained bright and cheerful, his usual easygoing smile in place. And since Ji-ho didn’t bring anything up, Sol hesitated to ask. Shaking his head to dispel the discomfort, Sol hurried down the hallway, weaving through busy staff.
On the way to the waiting room, a restroom sign caught Sol’s eye. Since their outfits were hanbok, he was worried about wrinkles, and it seemed better to make a quick stop before changing.
“I’m gonna hit the restroom.”
Before the others could say anything, Sol spun around and dashed toward the restroom.
