≫ I’ve never seen anyone drink like that, at an old bar.
≫ XX sure can drink.
≫ Look at that—drinking like that and the face is all porcelain.
Do I really have any reason to keep watching this? It’s not even something fans made.
I appreciated the attention, but I was mortified. I wanted to drop out the dorm window.
I was just about to say we should turn it off when a short, punchy comment snagged my eyes.
≫ 15:38 Booze-drinking hippo
The moment I saw that, I made up my mind.
If I ever quit being an idol, I’m moving to a farm where the internet doesn’t reach.
Even after that, appearances by people drinking left a long aftertaste.
On the forums they were calling me, following Kim Pep, either a heavy drinker or a seasoned drinker, and at music shows fans worried over me, telling me to drink in moderation.
I was so embarrassed I wanted to die a little. So at 7 p.m. I even did a wholesome “Eradicate Alcohol” promo livestream.
The top-liked comment was “Everyone... don’t... do stuff like this...,” which stabbed me in the chest, but anyway.
Like that, my first solo variety gig walked off after handing me a self-PR score and a pile of humiliation. It was a season of growth.
“Everyone, where are we?”
“Incheon Land!”
Wrapping up a noisy cycle from planning to execution, Spark visited an amusement park to shoot the last self-content episode of this promo.
When the bunch of loudfaces showed up in a group wearing school uniforms and even brought a camera, of course every eye went to us.
Wearing the same uniforms from the music video again made me painfully embarrassed. At my age, what am I doing?
Meanwhile Park Juu hunched his shoulders to the max and drew even more attention.
“Juu, straighten up. Your back will round.”
“It’s just... I’m a little embarrassed.”
“About what?”
When I looked at him, puzzled, Park Juu covered the patch on his shirt chest with his hand.
“I’m the only one in a middle-school uniform...”
“The design’s the same. Only the Chinese characters are different...”
Walking around like that is what will stand out more.
To prevent his shoulders from tilting, I handed over the backpack I was wearing to Park Juu. And I took his crossbody.
With the bag strap covering the patch, Park Juu finally found his beaming smile again.
But his smile didn’t last long.
After riding a flower-bud ride that bounces up and down, Park Juu came back white as a sheet.
The original goal was to film the loser of the mission looking painfully awkward among little kids, but his expression was so pitiful it turned into a “bully one member” special.
While the good children of a new nation yelled to raise it higher, Park Juu shook his head desperately.
Maybe the staff felt sorry for him, because they left only the bud he was on spinning slowly at ground level.
“Juu hyung, you can’t do rides?”
Kang Giyeon passed him a water bottle and asked as Park Juu flopped onto a bench.
He’s the last person to point out seniors’ weaknesses, so he must’ve been pretty shocked by how pale Juu’s face was.
“Yeah...”
“Is it heights you don’t like?”
“I guess so...”
To Choi Jeho’s question, Park Juu answered in a voice thoroughly deflated.
Jeong Seongbin comforted him.
“Don’t worry about it too much, Juu. It’s fine not to be great with rides!”
“Right. There’ll definitely be easy ones too!”
Lee Cheonghyeon chimed in, all hyped, wearing animal-ear headbands and even a mascot doll he’d picked up somewhere.
“Yeah. You’re pulling your full weight as a vocal, so it’s okay if you can’t do rides.”
I didn’t want him staying shrunken the whole broadcast either, so I patted his shoulder and tried to cheer him up.
Only then did he say his nerves were easing and got up from the bench again.
Right on cue, the PD cut in.
“Okay, Spark! Shall we move to the next spot?”
“Yes!”
“The next ride is... the Tornado!”
At the same time, Park Juu’s face went as white as the resignation letter envelope I used to carry.
Round two was a group mission.
If we danced a 2x-speed routine in the crowd with no one dropping out, we’d earn tickets to board the ride.
Obviously, Spark succeeded. Given our practice hours, anything else would’ve been weird.
Park Juu’s hands did shake when he saw the ride that spins like mad and looks like a pancake turner, but...
“Juu, if it’s too hard, you don’t have to push yourself!”
“No, still... I’ll give it a try. I’m riding it with the members!”
Even with the crew’s consideration, he screwed up his courage and stepped in. He’s not even my kid, and I was ridiculously proud.
Up to that point, things were fine. To be precise, up until the ride actually started.
The reasons the mishap happened can be summarized like this.
First, this was only my second time at an amusement park.
On my first visit—during the MV shoot—I only rode non-dynamic rides to avoid falling out of frame.
In other words, today was my first time on a dynamic ride.
Second, I was a transit-walker, so I never had chances to enjoy speed.
What speed is there in Seoul rush hour on public transit? You’re lucky if it doesn’t stop in the middle.
Lastly, I didn’t even watch common movies much.
So what do they call it... I had no immunity to so-called “jump scare” situations.
So I didn’t realize.
That I...
“Hyung, Iwol hyung! Are you okay?!”
...am atrocious at rides.
I started cocky.
Before he’d even fastened his belt, I sat to Park Juu’s right while Jeong Seongbin sat to his left, with Juu shaking already.
“You want me next to Juu?”
“He’ll feel safer with someone reliable beside him!”
...If you say so. So I sat where Lee Cheonghyeon told me to.
The Tornado carrying Lee Cheonghyeon, Kang Giyeon, Jeong Seongbin, Park Juu, me, and Choi Jeho started moving to a pumped-up soundtrack.
And the moment the rotation picked up speed—
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
—I sensed I was screwed.
It was fast—too fast. It felt like a centrifuge separating out all my organs.
It’s not like a Viking going way up, and I figured I could easily handle a ride that just spins at a constant speed.
Kids in school uniforms rode it right before us, too!
I heard Park Juu grunting beside me.
I was about to at least grab his hand from my spot on the right when—
“From now we’re going higher and faster! Spin it up, spin it up!”
With the DJ’s exuberant patter, the ride entered a rampage phase.
Are rides supposed to feel like your heart is going to stop?
Is it normal to feel your life is in danger like this?
Is this... right?
“Hey, you okay?”
I caught a snatch of Choi Jeho’s voice.
But I couldn’t answer.
Only a whirling scream stayed on the mic.
“Hyung, have some water.”
“Thanks...”
With trembling hands I took the bottle from Jeong Seongbin.
No joke, it felt like the gates of heaven opened and then shut in my face. I almost met the System midair.
“You okay, hyung...?”
“No. My heart hurts.”
Even Park Juu on the next bench over worried about me.
Watching me nearly pass out beside him must have made him forget his own fear a little.
“Are students allowed to ride something like this?”
“Iwol, anyone over 130 cm can ride this.”
“What? I think you should be over 230 cm to be safe.”
Clutching my shocked chest, I forced myself up from the bench. My knees were jelly.
“Ahh, if this is already this hard, we’re in trouble.”
“Gasp—don’t tell me we’re going to that one?!”
At the PD’s words, Lee Cheonghyeon’s eyes sparkled as he raised his voice.
Beside him, Kang Giyeon was showing peak focus.
Right, you guys are having the time of your lives at the amusement park.
The two thrill-maniacs were fired up explaining how high and scary the park’s famous rides were.
For today at least, I wanted to lean on the maknaes with brave hearts.
We rode a few more attractions after that.
When it came to the park’s famous K Express, they took pity on us and had me and Park Juu guard the bags at the bottom.
“Final pick for the Rodeo Show rider is Iwol!”
“C-can’t I ride in hyung’s place?!”
“The leader’s heart is admirable, but no!”
Because I failed to focus on the game, I ended up suffering the tragedy of riding that eye-spinning chunk of metal alone.
“Iwol hyung, they say you only have to endure a minute! You’ve got this!”
“Hyung, hang in there! The little kids next to you are watching!”
“Hyung, fighting...!”
“Is that something you need to cheer that hard for?”
“Look at his face—you just feel like cheering...”
The five of them cheering for me, groaning with my eyes clamped shut among the kids, was the second most humiliating experience after dance practice. I almost told them all to shut it, but survived by sheer willpower.
At this point I don’t even care how pathetic I’ll look on screen. When we get back I’m yanking the dorm router plug.
“Sigh...”
“Great work, hyung.”
Jeong Seongbin supported me as I came down on wobbly legs. Thanks to him, I barely held back from giving up on everything and crawling on all fours.
“Whew, we’ve got plenty of footage, right?”
Across from us, the PD smiled in satisfaction. The writers nodded.
It already felt like we’d been filming for about twenty hours, so I checked my watch. Barely two hours had passed.
How is that possible? I feel like I crossed the Samdocheon about 360 times round-trip.
If we already have enough airtime in two hours, just how disgraceful was I? My heart was in tatters.
Whether I was suffering or not, the PD didn’t care. When will I be that professional? I respect it.
“This hyung’s eyes are out of focus.”
“Somebody give him water.”
While Kang Giyeon and Choi Jeho tossed comments, the PD clapped to pull our attention.
“We’re going to grab a few natural cuts for the intro and cookie video now, okay? Think of the next hour as free time and enjoy yourselves!”
“Really?”
Their faces brightened. They must’ve been bummed we’d skipped some rides for filming.
“Oh, Iwol—if you’re having a hard time, you can rest!”
“No. I should work hard!”
For a second I forgot myself and almost cheered. Calm down, heart.
So Spark split into a ride-enjoying camp and a food-court camp.
Choi Jeho didn’t want to get in the way of the younger ones having fun, but rides are better even-numbered, so Lee Cheonghyeon dragged him along. He even looks after seniors who lack social sense, so I slipped him some extra pocket money I’d won in the games.
Park Juu and I had a pretty relaxed break.
We shared beaded ice cream—Juu didn’t get a single bite until I captured his best shot—and ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ we browsed a soap-bubble water gun that looked pretty powerful.
We also rode the carousel. We couldn’t get those cuts out of the thrill-mad addicts, and I can’t forget the camera directors outside the ride watching us with such benevolent expressions.
As break time was ending, we sat on a bench catching our breath and waited for the ride camp to come back.
They returned to the bench on time, as promised.
While Juu went to the restroom for a moment, the guys were scrambling to explain which ride had wrecked their hair.
“Okay, everyone’s here now, right?”
“Juu’s still...”
I looked toward where Park Juu had disappeared. The PD spoke again.
“No, everyone’s here.”
“Sorry?”
We all turned our heads to the PD at once.
“From now on, you’re going to find your friend Juu, who’s waiting for you, frantic with anticipation!”
