Joo Woosung had been a “heaven-sent, one and only” since birth.
He was born beautiful, raised with nothing but love, and thanks to his natural talent, everything came to him easily. The world had never been frightening to him.
That never changed, even after debuting with Black Call.
But there was one single exception.
Dragged into a workshop talent show just because he was a rookie, wearing a long blond wig that tangled against his thick eyelashes, Joo Woosung realized for the very first time in his life that not everything went his way.
If anything, it was lucky the video never spread.
“E~hey, if you don’t go with me, who else will?”
After that, Woosung would jump just hearing the first syllable of “workshop.” And now that same pale, annoyingly shiny bastard was smirking again, running his mouth with some new scheme.
“Yeah, piss off.”
He flipped his middle finger, but Seo Hoyun didn’t even blink. He just played a song on his phone.
【Holy Shit your body
I can’t take my eyes off】
A hip-hop track from about a year ago, three minutes and forty-three seconds filled entirely with descriptions of a woman’s body. It had gotten popular at festivals thanks to its chemistry with backup dancers, though Woosung had never liked it.
“With this one, let’s go—”
“Are you insane? Are you kidding me right now?”
“I can take care of the backup dancer part.”
“So what.”
“Forget your prejudices about songs and workshops. Think carefully. This one would look amazing if you did it, Joo Woosung.”
Lim Hyunsu, who’d lost interest in WH Entertainment’s workshop once she couldn’t get a CD from some band Mec—whatever, and Kim Heeyoung, relaxed after sashimi and drinks, just whispered together on their own.
“Here, look at this. The original video. Tch, I mean, it’s good, sure. But you? You’d look five times better.”
“...Five times? Don’t be ridiculous. No comparison.”
“Oh, listen to this guy. Fine, ten times better.”
He knew it was obvious sweet-talk meant to reel him in, but strangely enough, it still made his chest flutter a little.
‘This punk... he really wants to do this?’
“...I’m busy.”
“Come on, for genius Joo Woosung this is nothing. Just glance at it and you’ll nail it.”
Since Seo Hoyun had never shown him positive signals before, it didn’t feel bad. And it didn’t sound like a lie either.
“All you have to do is one thing. Stand next to me that day and enjoy the stage. That’s it.”
Hoyun grinned, told him to think it over, and walked off.
At home, playing hunting games with his cat using a fishing rod toy, Woosung replayed Hoyun’s words.
No matter how hard he rolled his brain around, he couldn’t see what Hoyun had to gain.
Then it hit him—maybe this was the perfect chance to royally screw over the bastard who had once blackmailed him.
[Crazy bastard: I’ll do all the hard stuff]
[Crazy bastard: Don’t you trust me?]
The texts from Hoyun came ghost-like and fast, only pissing him off more.
[Crazy bastard: If not, do it with your leader instead]
Of course—Kim Sunghyun. His dancing had been improving sharply, and Woosung had been keeping a close eye on him. Hoyun was definitely saying this on purpose.
“You son of a bitch...”
He swung the toy wrong and got a familiar “meow punch” from his cat, sending him sprawling. Gritting his teeth, Woosung clenched a fist.
No way he was going down alone.
He’d carve Hoyun’s humiliation into history while snatching 1st place and the overseas prize voucher.
He had already confirmed through Black Call’s Chae Jungwoo, who was MCing the workshop talent show, that 1st-place prizes couldn’t be exchanged with any other ranking.
Woosung smirked.
‘This workshop will be your funeral.’
Once he organized his thoughts, he moved quickly. He contacted Hoyun to set a meeting time. He didn’t need practice—unlike Hoyun. For himself, just running through the choreography once or twice was enough.
And whenever their schedules happened to align, he never missed the chance to scold that blockhead.
Before long, the workshop day arrived.
Woosung strolled into the hall, switched from his T-shirt to a thin white shirt that showed a bit of skin, and headed happily toward the stage.
Chae Jungwoo looked at him like, “Has this guy finally lost it?” Woosung just raised an eyebrow and turned away.
“Sunbae-nim, you shine from head to toe today.”
Hoyun showered him with ridiculous compliments, making him snort.
“...Haha, next is a truly surprising combo. A WH classic! Everyone here has seen these two fight at least once, but they always stick together anyway. Black Call’s Joo Woosung and The Dawn’s Seo Hoyun!”
Cheers exploded.
Whistling, Woosung walked slowly to center stage. Hoyun stood opposite him, only a little makeup on his lips, half his bangs pinned back. No wig, no fake lashes like Woosung once had.
It felt unsatisfying, but he let it slide—he’d crush him anyway.
As Woosung grinned, waiting for Hoyun to dive headfirst into humiliation, Hoyun leaned in close and locked eyes with him.
“Joo Woosung-ssi. Do you know something?”
“Huh?”
A low voice brushed against his ear.
“I actually only practiced your part.”
Of course, I only practiced my own—wait, what?
Hoyun’s red lips curled into a sharp smile.
“You can do both, right?”
Before Woosung could react, Hoyun grabbed his arm and switched places. He charged forward, singing.
【Wherever you go, everyone stares at your body Hoo
Sorry, I can’t even remember your eye color】
Even though it was rap, he delivered it rhythmically, with his own flavor.
Thrown into the unwanted position, Woosung shut his eyes.
But quitting mid-stage and walking off? That was something he could never choose.
...He opened them again, biting the inside of his cheek hard, and started dancing.
.
.
.
“Fuck... fuck... fuck...”
He muttered curses like a prayer, but I clapped for him all the same.
The crowd roared. The hall was full of Joo Woosung’s name, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ like his own personal concert.
“Wow~! That was the best performance!!”
“Woosung-hyung! You’re the best!!”
“I... I feel like our Woosung has gotten back the passion from his rookie days... sniff... even Saeyoung is crying while cheering... sniff...”
Chae Jungwoo tried not to laugh but couldn’t keep it from slipping out.
“With Black Call’s pride on the line, you’ll have to take 1st place.”
“Shut up...”
Woosung covered his head with both hands and ran off the stage. I followed him, handed him a cap I always carried as backup, and let him stew in his shame.
We were the last act, so the rankings were announced.
“3rd place—! Kang Yeonhoo!”
Woosung’s eyes lit up.
“2nd place—! Seo Hoyun and Joo Woosung!”
Second place. Easy.
I hid my glee and pretended disappointment.
“They say we’re second.”
“......”
“Ahh, so 1st is Manager Jang. His waves really were impressive. A bit of a shame.”
“......”
But Woosung, prideful as he was, didn’t rage. He just sat silently under his cap.
“...Joo Woosung-ssi?”
I bent down to check, and he groaned, drank water, then sighed.
“Seo Hoyun, you idiot moron stupid sea anemone.”
“...Huh?”
“You haven’t figured WH’s info out yet?”
What?
“Manager Jang is our CEO’s cousin. A golden spoon. Not widely known, but among the higher-ups, yeah.”
I blinked. I hadn’t investigated WH as deeply as I had Daepaseong. Back then, I had to move personally to make anything happen. With WH, Ji-hyun and Jung Seonui handled most things.
“And he’s a really good guy. Believes in giving back. He even got 3rd when I attended the workshop.”
“So what?”
“So.”
There was something ominous about how he dragged this out.
Woosung gestured behind me.
“What?!”
The hall erupted.
Manager Jang refused the 1st-place prize.
“Ahaha, come on!”
He laughed, waving his hands.
“I already went last week! I’m sick of it. What would I do there again? Better for our WH pillars to go and rest instead!”
My face soured in real time. Woosung smirked.
“He gave it up back then too. Said he preferred others to enjoy it.”
“Manager Jang! Manager Jang! Taller than Joo Woosung~!!”
“You guys, really!!”
“That’s why I like Manager Jang.”
Manager Jang waved enthusiastically at Woosung.
“Woosung-ssi, enjoy your Hawaii trip~!!”
“Yes, thank you, Manager Jang~!!”
Woosung was ecstatic, shoving his cap on my head and throwing finger hearts.
Meanwhile, the rankings shifted. Kang Yeonhoo got the signed CD, Kang Ichae and Sung Jiwon won 3rd-place composing gear.
“Congratulations!”
“Wow! Ichae!!”
Jiwon hugged him, bouncing.
“We’re 3rd!”
“See? Rap practice worked, hyung!”
“Right! Hard work pays off!!”
Was that practice?
Besides, Ichae already had all that equipment anyway. But they grinned like fools.
Manager Jang came over, patting our shoulders.
“I always root for The Dawn. Today’s stage was great. You and Joo Woosung matched so well. Why not relax, film a vlog of your Hawaii trip, and show fans? Perfect!”
I nearly choked, but the planning team jumped in.
“That’s brilliant! Just a few staff to help, not overwhelming!”
“No, wait...”
“Black Call and The Dawn’s long friendship! And Seo Hoyun, you knew Joo Woosung even before you rejoined The Dawn? Amazing! The picture writes itself!”
“......”
“......”
I forced my best acting smile.
A Hawaii vlog with The Dawn and Black Call? Fans would roast us alive.
I was about to hunt down Kang Yeonhoo for a prize trade when someone else beat me to it.
“Yeonhoo-hyung~.”
It was Kang Ichae.
He beamed and handed Yeonhoo the MIDI controller.
“Hyung, let’s swap.”
“...Really? For real?”
“Of course! As long as it’s not 1st place, trades are fine. Jiwon-hyung’s okay with it too.”
Yeonhoo tilted his head, then thanked him and handed over the CD, heading excitedly to his group’s maknae.
Woosung, seeing it all, grabbed my shoulder and yelled for everyone to hear.
“Wow! Lucky Kang Ichae! Even though Seo Hoyun’s dumbass antics lost us 2nd, he still managed to get the prize!”
“Mm?”
Don’t. Say. It.
“You know how much he tortured me for that CD, ack!!”
“Thmph mmphh mmph—”
Don’t say it, damn it.
I kicked his shin under the panel, signaling him to shut up, but he stubbornly bellowed:
“He wanted to give you this CD so bad he humiliated his only senior, but in the end he couldn’t hand it over himself!!”
“...Huh?”
Blinking, Ichae tilted his head.
“I don’t even like this.”
“......”
“......”
Woosung pointed at the CD. Ichae nodded again.
I steadied myself and asked:
“...Then why did you enter the talent show?”
“Hm? To gift it to Composer Cheongbeom. She likes it.”
“But I heard you sang about wanting it day and night.”
“She wanted it, so I helped. It’s not my taste.”
“......”
My jaw trembled.
The travel voucher panel slipped from my hand.
Woosung, whose grudges lasted longer than his years in the industry, glanced at me and muttered:
“Off to Hawaii, you dumbass...”
Shut it... you...
Looking between us, Kang Ichae narrowed his eyes, then tapped his palm with the CD.
“Hoyun-hyung, you went up on stage just to give this to me?”
