The second-floor railing overlooked the lobby of WH Entertainment.
A tall man with pale blond hair was restlessly bouncing his leg, scanning the floor below.
‘Damn it, where the hell is Seo Hoyun?’
It had already been over thirty minutes that Joo Woosung had been waiting in the same spot.
Today was the day he was filming for his personal YouTube channel. During the planning meeting where guests were being selected—
“For this episode’s guest candidates, first is the recent lead from the Letflix original series—”
He had sat there half-listening as the staff listed off names that would make anyone short of breath, and then, on impulse, he’d blurted one out.
“...What if we invite Seo Hoyun?”
A moment of silence hung in the air.
While he scrambled for an excuse {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} to justify it, the staff exchanged glances, then gave their approval. They trusted him after all these years of working together—believing that even if he didn’t have a solid reason, he’d make something good out of it anyway.
‘This was a terrible idea.’
He could tell exactly what they’d all been thinking. For the first time since entering the industry, Woosung realized he’d failed to keep business and personal matters separate—and hated himself for it. His leg shook even harder, practically an earthquake, and soon he was flicking his fingernails in frustration when suddenly someone called out loudly from below.
“Hoyun hyung!”
He looked down and saw Kim Sunghyun, Sung Jiwon, Jung Dajun, and one particularly ungrateful brat.
“Hyung! Why didn’t you come to practice?!”
Except for Seo Hoyun, the rest seemed to be on a break from rehearsal, all wearing light shirts and sweatpants. Woosung craned his neck, ears perked.
“Ah... fishing.”
“Fiiishing???”
Seo Hoyun drew out the word, raising his brow, leaving the youngest, Jung Dajun, clinging to his arm while he casually strolled toward the company café.
“Did I mishear that? He skipped practice because of fishing? That Hoyun hyung??”
“You heard right.”
“Whaaat?! And Jiwon hyung didn’t stop him?!”
Still hanging off Hoyun and squawking, Dajun was pulled off by Sung Jiwon, who smoothly shifted the topic with a grin.
“Hoyun’s hands have gotten rough lately. Must be from fishing.”
“Did you bait every hook yourself or what?”
Kim Sunghyun followed up, keeping the chatter going, while Hoyun leaned lazily against the counter, yawning.
“Two drinks—a latte and an Americano—”
“Hyung, just hang out at the dorm instead! At least then we’d know you’re alive!!”
As Hoyun placed his order, Dajun whined up at him again.
“—Ah, and one chocolate mousse too, please.”
“Do you even know how bored I’ve been lately?! Ichae hyung isn’t even at the dorm—mph!!”
Apparently tired of the noise, Hoyun pinched Dajun’s lips shut with his thumb and forefinger, then looked at the other two members.
“Who’s been spoiling him lately?”
“Not me.”
“Yeah, not me either.”
Both Sunghyun and Jiwon avoided his gaze, answering quickly. Watching them suspiciously, Hoyun finished his order.
‘He seems fine enough...’
His complexion wasn’t bad, and judging by his banter with the members, he seemed perfectly normal.
‘...Guess I can go back.’
Since he couldn’t keep spying from the railing forever, Woosung was about to return to the studio when Sunghyun suddenly looked around restlessly—and before he could duck away, tilted his head upward.
“Senior?!!!”
Caught.
Sunghyun waved both hands energetically, and beside him, Hoyun’s eyes met Woosung’s by chance. With a small sigh, Woosung scratched the back of his neck and trudged down the stairs. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but for some reason, the encounter felt awkward.
“Woosung sunbae! Your latest comeback was amazing!!”
“Oh... thanks.”
“When I saw you in the center during the ‘Blackout’ dance break, chills went all over my body—!”
As usual, Sunghyun was the first to start chatting, and Woosung humored him halfheartedly. Beside him, Jiwon tugged on the hesitant Dajun and said to Hoyun,
“Hoyun-ah, didn’t you have a schedule today for Woosung sunbae’s YouTube thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we’ll head back to practice. Sunbae, please take good care of our Hoyun!”
Dragging along the reluctant Sunghyun, who looked like he wanted to keep talking, the others disappeared toward the elevators.
Left alone with Hoyun, Woosung felt even more awkward. As he rubbed his chin and pretended to look off into the distance, a paper cup suddenly appeared in his line of sight.
“Here.”
“...Mine?”
“Who else? You think I ordered two for myself?”
After a brief pause, he took the drink, and Hoyun immediately turned and started toward the studio where filming was scheduled. Woosung glanced between the latte in his hand and Hoyun’s retreating figure before hurrying to follow.
“Hey, you—...”
He was about to ask how he’d been, but Hoyun caught his eye and gestured subtly for silence before pulling out his phone.
“Yes, this is Seo Hoyun.”
“......”
“Haha, yeah, I’ve been quiet lately, haven’t I? Didn’t want to bother you when you’re busy.”
The call went on for quite a while.
Hoyun spoke in that smooth, polite tone he used only when it suited him, voice soft as silk.
“Hello?”
When Woosung thought the call was over and tried to speak, Hoyun immediately answered another one.
‘How the hell does he get so many calls?!’
By the third one in a row, Woosung’s brows knit tight. The urge to snatch the phone out of his hands burned in his chest, but he clenched and unclenched his fists instead.
Noticing his expression, Hoyun glanced his way, said a few last words into the phone, and finally hung up.
“Sorry. Seems like everyone suddenly needs me today.”
Shrugging, he finally looked directly at Woosung.
“You’ve been busy lately, right? How’s life?”
“Same as always.”
“Why? Black Call’s doing great. The new concept really suits you.”
For a moment, Woosung wondered if Hoyun was sick.
‘Did he eat something weird?’
Normally, Hoyun would be dripping sarcasm, making cutting remarks even when Woosung released a solo album—like a jealous cousin watching someone buy land.
But right now, he seemed oddly... calm.
‘...He has been acting strange lately.’
Narrowing his eyes slightly, Woosung glanced at his heavy wristwatch, then jerked his chin toward the emergency exit at the end of the hall.
“Hey, we’ve got some time. Let’s talk for a sec.”
He stepped inside first, and as soon as the door closed, he fired his question.
“Are you guys really having a comeback?”
“...Ah...”
Hoyun reacted a beat late, brushing a hand across his lips, and replied flatly,
“Why? Heard something?”
He’d heard plenty of rumors himself.
That The Dawn had been abandoned by the company.
That one of the members went back to the U.S.
That Seo Hoyun was being shifted to acting instead.
All kinds of barking nonsense.
But they weren’t the kind of things you said to the person involved, so Woosung hesitated.
“...Forget it. I get the gist.”
Hoyun sighed softly, lowering his head to rub the back of his neck. There were faint shadows under his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it.”
That tired look—Woosung had seen it before, in countless fellow trainees who’d lost their goals and given up.
And in himself, once upon a time—running on autopilot without purpose.
“...You came this far just to give up now?”
Hoyun lifted his head, nose creasing slightly as he gave a puzzled look.
“...Give up?”
“I mean, I get how you feel.”
Woosung hadn’t expected to see Seo Hoyun looking defeated.
It bothered him—because Hoyun had always been cocky, unstoppable, the type to chew up anyone in his way, not someone who’d slump like this.
Thinking back, all of Hoyun’s strange behavior lately suddenly made sense. Maybe heartbreak had twisted his usual edge into odd detachment.
“I know you’re tired, and yeah, probably disappointed too.”
He could relate.
Even someone as successful as him could get buried in the mess of the industry.
“But that’s exactly when you have to keep your head straight.”
Because Hoyun shouldn’t fall apart.
Seeing him looking so worn down made anger bubble in Woosung’s chest—You’re not the kind of guy to just take a beating like this.
“This industry’s full of rigged bullshit, and even kids worse off than you still push through.”
He didn’t even know who he was mad at anymore—just that frustration was spilling out of him unchecked.
“If you hang on till the end, things might change.”
Maybe he was afraid.
Afraid to watch someone he thought had everything—talent, brains, iron will—collapse.
Afraid to see that unshakable composure and fearless confidence flicker out like a candle in the wind.
“You can still turn it around.”
His voice trembled faintly, then the emergency stairwell fell silent. The quiet pressed heavily on Woosung’s shoulders—until a hand suddenly landed there with a light thud.
“...Woosung, be honest with me.”
Startled, he looked up—and found Hoyun’s dark eyes locked onto his.
“How much mugwort and garlic have you eaten?”
...Garlic?
Hoyun tilted his head, inspecting him up and down.
“Wow, when did you become human?”
“...Hu—human?”
“During Shining Star, you told me not to get disillusioned since corruption’s everywhere—and now here you are, giving motivational speeches about pushing through no matter what.”
“...Wha—what? When did I ever say that?!”
“Guess you don’t remember.”
Flustered, Woosung batted his hand away, eyeing him suspiciously.
But Hoyun’s expression—he was absolutely serious.
“Well, sorry your big speech went to waste, but I’m perfectly fine. And I have zero intention of giving up.”
“...Really?”
“I’ve worked too hard to throw everything away over something this trivial.”
Then what the hell was all that weird behavior about?
Woosung narrowed his eyes in disbelief. At that moment, Hoyun’s phone vibrated again.
“Well... thanks for worrying, though.”
Murmuring that, Hoyun checked the caller ID—and a sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if a fun idea had just struck him.
Then, seeing Woosung stiffen instinctively and step back, Hoyun leaned in slowly, voice dropping to a whisper.
“Woosung.”
Wearing that same confident expression he always had—the one that never knew fear.
“Want me to show you how I burn everything down?”
