Sol followed the sign pointing toward the bathroom, walking down the hallway in the opposite direction of the waiting room. The corridor, lined with identical gray doors, had no particularly distinguishing features. As he walked, Sol glanced back briefly to double-check the direction where his group members had disappeared. He didn’t want to space out and forget where their waiting room was—that would be awkward in more ways than one.
After mentally noting the room number to return to, Sol stepped toward the men’s restroom entrance. He only had to turn the corner, but the sound of laughter from inside made him freeze reflexively. The hallway had seemed quiet, but the restroom sounded crowded. Feeling embarrassed and out of place, Sol was about to turn back when an aggressive voice cut through from behind him.
"So fucking annoying."
The tone was mocking, scornful—the kind of voice Sol had heard plenty of times before meeting his group members. Of course, he’d brought some of it on himself, but hearing that laughter, that casual cruelty, still made his mood plummet. *Those who’ve been through it know best, as the saying went, and Sol understood exactly what lay beneath those words.
‘The bathroom… I’ll just come back later.’
As discomfort welled up inside him, Sol quickened his steps to leave the hallway—until a familiar name stopped him in his tracks. And as if confirming his suspicions, the next words followed:
"That Do Ji-ho, man. Still the same piece of work. So damn unlikable."
"Hey, Myung-ha, you see his face when you greeted him earlier?"
"The way he fake smiles—disgusting."
At the sound of the familiar name, Sol lifted his lowered head. So that uneasy feeling earlier hadn’t been his imagination. The person laughing and trash-talking Ji-ho inside was none other than Myung-ha—the same guy who had exchanged greetings with them earlier.
Just hearing Ji-ho’s name spoken in that tone, accompanied by snickers, made Sol’s blood boil. It wasn’t just irritation—his face burned with anger. For a second, he wanted to kick the door open and yell at them to shut their mouths, but he didn’t have the nerve. A coward without courage, he knew he shouldn’t keep listening. But just as he tried to walk away, the conversation shifted—and this time, it wasn’t about Ji-ho. It was about him.
"Hey, why’d you ask to be introduced to that silver-haired guy?"
"Who?"
"Earlier. You asked Do Ji-ho to introduce you to that YC kid."
"Oh. That? Do Ji-ho’s real good at reading people, you know."
He should pretend he didn’t hear it and walk away. Let it go in one ear and shake it out of his head, then return to the waiting room with a carefree smile. Once back, he would quickly change clothes and gather with Ji-ho, Ga-ram, Tae-oh, and Deuk-yong to cheer himself up. Then everything would turn out fine. That’s what Sol repeated to himself. But contrary to his thoughts, he couldn’t move an inch from where he stood.
It was as if his back had fused to the wall, as if the rubber soles of his shoes had melted into the floor. He couldn’t budge. The voices from beyond the bathroom grew strangely louder, carving themselves sharply into his ears. He didn’t want to hear them, yet they came through so clearly—as if he were pressing his ear against the wall to eavesdrop.
“That bastard’s always playing the good guy, sticking close to the ones who end up doing well. Do Ji-ho’s specialty is leeching off those kinds of people.”
“Was that how it was?”
“Don’t you remember? Won-woo and Jin-hyeong—everyone except Do Ji-ho made it big.”
“Yeah, right. Remember when he’d baby Won-woo, letting himself be called ‘Mom’? Made me wanna puke.”
Sol hung his head low and clenched his fists. Ji-ho didn’t have to go out of his way to look after the members. He didn’t have to make sure Sol and the others ate every morning. He didn’t have to worry about Sol so warmly, like he did in the waiting room. He didn’t have to lighten the mood with playful antics whenever things got tense. But Sol never once thought Ji-ho had ulterior motives.
When he first met Ji-ho, he’d felt a little uneasy. But not anymore. At least, to Sol, Ji-ho genuinely cared for his younger members at every moment. To the quiet Tae-oh, to Sol himself—who was always making mistakes—to Ga-ram, whose gentle voice hid his fragility, and to Deuk-yong, whose large frame contrasted with his clingy affection, Ji-ho was a dependable hyung they could rely on.
Ji-ho wasn’t even here, and it wasn’t like Sol was the one being insulted—yet it burned him with frustration that Ji-ho was being dragged into this conversation. His fists clenched so tight his palms ached, and his eyes grew hot.
“Right? Just watch. Even without YC, that kid’s visuals would get him in anywhere. And the two with black hair, same deal.”
“Honestly, Do Ji-ho’s probably the worst out of them.”
“True. Let’s be real—his face is mid, and honestly, I’m not even sure if he’s that good at singing anymore.”
No. That’s what Sol wanted to argue. Ji-ho had a smile that made people feel genuinely happy. His voice was clear and pleasant, and at least to Sol’s ears, his singing was the best he’d ever heard. Sol just gritted his teeth and lowered his head even further, staring helplessly at his feet as he swallowed his anger. Then, a shadow fell over him.
As the surroundings darkened, Sol lifted his head. Standing before him was Ji-ho himself—the subject of all the gossip. Behind them, the mocking continued. Sol desperately hoped Ji-ho hadn’t heard any of it.
Sol quickly linked arms with Ji-ho and tried to pull him away from the bathroom, dragging him along. But Ji-ho didn’t budge. Instead, he looked at Sol with a bright smile and pressed his index finger to his own lips. His plush lips pressed against his fingertip, distorting their shape. When Sol stared at him in flustered surprise, Ji-ho just grinned nonchalantly and winked.
"All that acting high and mighty, acting so righteous—and in the end, he just ended up at YC. Thought he’d land somewhere way more impressive."
"Honestly, I thought he’d drop out and join the military."
Laughter spilled out from inside the bathroom. What’s so funny? Sol’s pupils trembled as he stared at Ji-ho. Even after facing this kind of thing countless times in college, Sol still couldn’t brush it off calmly. Even though he’d brought it on himself, hearing these words made him want to hide his tears, bolt away, or lie awake all night turning them over in his mind.
Some days, the thought of facing the people who mocked him the next morning was so terrifying he’d skip class altogether. That was how he reacted—yet here was Ji-ho, smiling. Instead, he signaled for Sol to stay quiet and stood firmly by his side. Leaning against the cool wall, Ji-ho wrapped his hand tightly around Sol’s clenched fist.
"Hey, it’s fine. Someone might hear. Let’s go."
Had they laughed and talked their fill? Myung-ha’s voice signaled the end of their gossip. The sound of running water cut short, and as the people inside began to step out, Sol flinched, ready to flee. But Ji-ho held his hand tighter and pulled him back.
Sure enough, Myung-ha was the first to exit the bathroom—only to come face-to-face with Ji-ho and Sol. The three who’d been chatting so freely inside froze in shock at the sight of them.
"Don’t you think you’ve been talking about me for too long? I had to pee, but I waited because I didn’t want to embarrass you. I almost pissed myself."
Sol flinched at Ji-ho’s cheerful, carefree words. Guilty consciences are quick to panic—but the real guilty ones shook off their brief hesitation and snorted at Ji-ho.
"You heard?"
"Weren’t you yelling loud enough for everyone to hear? What if the staff had caught you? This is a broadcasting station, Myung-ha. You should watch your mouth even when the cameras are off."
"Ugh, you’re disgusting."
It was Myung-ha, the one who had insulted Ji-ho. Ji-ho, on the other hand, laughed and even added some advice, as if he was worried about Myung-ha. But that comment seemed to rub Myung-ha the wrong way, as he openly scowled. Sol stared at Ji-ho, who was gripping his hand tightly. Strangely enough, Ji-ho was smiling brightly, his expression unreadable. His face, utterly unbothered, only made Sol more uneasy. By all appearances, it was a situation where anyone would be angry and upset, but looking at Ji-ho’s face, you’d think he was having a cheerful conversation with a close friend.
"Not a single thing you said was wrong, Myung-ha."
"What?"
Ji-ho glanced at Myung-ha and nodded in agreement. At his words, Sol, standing beside them, widened his eyes in shock. Myung-ha furrowed his brows and retorted sharply.
"I’m really good at reading people, you know. I’ve got a sharp eye. Isn’t our Sol so handsome? Not to mention incredibly kind and an amazing dancer. He’s cool and good at everything. He’s like a sprite born to be loved!"
Even though Myung-ha hadn’t praised him, Ji-ho suddenly started boasting about Sol with full confidence. His eyes sparkled as if he were looking at the most admirable, charismatic person in the world, and he kept gushing over him right in front of the one who’d just insulted him.
Sol didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed. Stiff as a board, he could only dart his eyes left and right in response to Ji-ho’s endless stream of words. As Sol grew more rigid, Ji-ho—completely ignoring the three people in front of him—finished his long, praise-filled speech and took a deep breath. Sol couldn’t help but think Ji-ho’s lung capacity was impressive.
Ji-ho squeezed Sol’s hand once more. His grip was firm but not painful or uncomfortable—if anything, it felt strong and reassuring. After catching his breath, Ji-ho added one last thing to Myung-ha.
"But hey, Myung-ha. We trained together for so long, and not once did you ever look out for me."
At his words, Myung-ha’s face flushed red. Shrugging his shoulders, Myung-ha glared sharply at Ji-ho before brushing past him, as if he wasn’t worth dealing with. As Myung-ha walked away, his friends followed, each of them shooting Ji-ho blatant stares. Unfazed, Ji-ho just shrugged and snorted.
