[PD Jung: It’s not confirmed yet, so don’t get your hopes up.]
I was idly typing a reply to the text when I heard footsteps approaching and lifted my head.
“Mr. Seo Hoyun, great work today.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
I greeted the staff member—her face full of worry—with a bright smile, then finished typing my message, sent it, and stepped out of the studio.
Joo Woosung had already left a while ago. The moment the shoot ended, he’d been humming cheerfully as he disappeared first.
I pressed the elevator button, folded my arms, and spaced out while trying to organize my thoughts, when I felt someone’s presence beside me. Turning my head, I saw Lee Jihyun standing there awkwardly, wearing an embarrassed expression.
“Ahem, hem.”
She coughed a few times, glancing around cautiously before finally speaking up.
“Do you have a moment right now?”
“Why?”
“Well... I don’t really know how to start this conversation....”
Lee Jihyun brushed her cheek with her palm, pausing as if searching for the right words.
“Uh... our office is kind of in chaos right now because of casting requests.”
“And?”
“In every email, at the very beginning, they all had your name written, Mr. Seo Hoyun. So I was wondering if, um... you had something to do with this situation... directly....”
She was trying to sound indirect, but what she was really asking was whether I’d gone around pitching myself.
After the February concert tour ended, I’d continued with a few solo schedules here and there, but my calendar was practically empty. Waiting around wasn’t going to change anything.
In the end, I’d decided to move on my own—and started by targeting the PDs.
Even if we worked for different networks, the entertainment world was small. Two or three connections, and you knew almost everyone. PDs all had predictable routines too—circling around their editing rooms like satellites.
It always began the same way: I’d hang around the area where the target PD was known to frequent and “accidentally” bump into them. Then, using the hobbies and interests I’d researched beforehand, I’d slide naturally into conversation and secure a follow-up meeting.
That part wasn’t so hard.
[Hey, Hoyun! Wanna go out to the sea?]
The only problem, I later realized, was that most PDs had outdoor hobbies.
After rushing from one film set to another and gritting my teeth through endless revisions to our choreography, just when I thought I could finally close my eyes for a few minutes, my phone would blow up with another call dragging me outside like a thunderbolt.
I’d click my tongue in irritation but grab my keys without delay, then drive to the address I’d been sent—with the car stuffed full of hiking gear, fishing rods, and camping equipment.
“Oh, welcome~!”
“Wow, you came again today? Seo Hoyun, I seriously didn’t think you’d last this long.”
When I «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» casually sat down next to them, the PDs would laugh, teasing me as they puffed out thick plumes of cigarette smoke.
For someone from a nameless group, this kind of persistence was rare—and for a semi-known idol to shamelessly show up every time and talk their ear off, it seemed amusing, maybe even intriguing.
“I’ve never seen anyone as savvy about this industry as you. If you’ve got time, come on our show sometime.”
Thanks to that, a few PDs even handed me their business cards.
—Ding.
When the elevator arrived and the doors opened, I stepped forward, giving Lee Jihyun—still eyeing me suspiciously—a faint smile.
“—Who knows?”
“......”
“Maybe they just thought my on-camera self was cute.”
Lee Jihyun hurried after me, her brow furrowed in disbelief. Her expression practically said, ‘Yeah, right.’
“...Well, anyway, I checked the details, and they’re all still at the preliminary meeting stage, not confirmed. But the management team didn’t seem very positive about it.”
She sighed softly, looking troubled.
“I’m not sure why they’d decline, but... the company’s been kind of chaotic lately...”
“Ms. Lee Jihyun.”
I cut her off as I pressed the button for the practice room floor.
“Aren’t you busy?”
“...What?”
“Should you really be standing here? You said your office was in chaos. I get what you’re worried about, but you should probably get back to your work.”
Lee Jihyun blinked several times, then scratched the back of her head. She’d probably only approached me out of frustration, hoping to get a bit of information if she could.
“You haven’t been slacking off these past few months, right?”
“My shared drive is piled high with untouched project drafts, actually...”
“Then you’re running short on time to polish them up nicely, aren’t you?”
“What?”
As she asked back in confusion, the elevator stopped. I stepped out, turned slightly toward her, and added,
“You can’t just throw them away after missing the right timing, can you?”
Whether she understood or not, Lee Jihyun blinked slowly and nodded in a daze just before the doors slid shut. I headed toward the practice room.
As I grabbed the black doorknob and started to push it open—
“Hyuuuung!!!”
A loud shout and a clatter of footsteps echoed down the hall.
I instinctively turned my body to the side. At the same time, Jung Dajun lost his footing and rolled across the hallway three full times. He propped himself up with one hand on the floor and, by the time he managed to stand, Kim Sunghyun and Sung Jiwon—who had been following behind—burst into applause.
“Wow, that’s what I call a judo kid.”
“Dajun, that was a perfect forward roll breakfall!”
Ignoring the praise from his older members, Jung Dajun charged at me again.
“Hoyun-hyung! Why didn’t you answer your phone?! Do you know how many emergency stairwells I had to run through looking for you?!”
“You do know elevators were invented, right?”
“They were too slow! Don’t change the subject!”
He was usually full of energy, but today he was practically bursting with excitement—making him even louder than usual.
He’d shouted right beside me, and my ear rang painfully as I pressed a finger against it, only for him to grab my arm and shake me again.
“Hyung hyung hyung! Hoyun-hyung!”
“I can still hear fine.”
“Did you hear the news?! We got a schedule! Everyone’s phones are blowing up right now!!”
“It’s not confirmed yet.”
“Confirmed or not—”
Then Jung Dajun suddenly stopped mid-sentence, frowned, and stepped back.
“—...Wait. Why does this feel weird? Why are you acting like you already knew?”
“Didn’t Seo Hoyun go out hustling for it himself?”
At Kim Sunghyun’s dry comment, Dajun’s head tilted to the side.
“Huh? Ehh?! Don’t tell me... that time you mentioned fishing...?”
That don’t tell me was exactly right.
His eyes widened, his cheeks flushed red, and a second later—
“You guys knew?!!!” he howled.
“Well... Seo Hoyun’s obsessed with efficiency. The moment he started going out, it was obvious.”
“I tagged along with him a few times,” Kim Sunghyun said, scratching his cheek, and Sung Jiwon added awkwardly, “Yeah.”
Dajun pouted, puffing his cheeks, and Sunghyun threw an arm around his shoulder in a brotherly gesture.
“We didn’t know he’d actually pull it off. You’re really something, Seo Hoyun. Wasn’t it tough?”
“It was.”
All that cigarette smoke from PDs constantly chain-smoking like chimneys—it had been hell resisting the urge to light one myself.
My candid reply caught Kim Sunghyun off guard, and before he could answer, Dajun muttered sullenly,
“...Why didn’t you tell me? I was worried sick!”
“Why?”
“B-because...”
The usually outspoken maknae shrank back, fumbling for words.
“I just... worried about you, hyung...”
I clicked my tongue softly. I hadn’t said anything because I didn’t want to worry the others, but it seemed that had only made Dajun anxious.
“Ah~.”
I pressed both of his cheeks together with one hand and teased him in a playful tone.
“Maknae, were you worried about hyung?”
“Worried—!”
He swatted my hand away, then froze for a beat.
“...Of course I was!!” he finally shouted, glaring up at me defiantly.
“Why are you so mad—ugh, whatever. I’m the kind of man who lets things go coolly anyway.”
“Are you?”
“But, I just think Ichae-hyung—”
Before he could ramble further, Sung Jiwon clapped his hands loudly.
“Ah, look at the time! We’ve got practice.”
“Huh? Huh??”
“You know, Dajun’s working hard, but there are still thirty-two things left to fix.”
“That’s not the point right now! I still have so much to ask Hoyun-hyung—”
“Later. Let’s perfect the choreography first.”
“Hyung! Hyuuuuung!”
Ignoring his protest, Sung Jiwon dragged him off. I turned to Kim Sunghyun, who lingered behind, ready to follow them.
“...Are you going in to practice too?”
“No.”
“Then you just came to deliver the news? You’re probably busy, so don’t worry about us. As you can see, we’re doing fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Sung Jiwon even made a special practice curriculum to help you readjust when you come back.”
That probably won’t be necessary.
Maybe my face showed it, because Kim Sunghyun tried to console me by pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket and holding it out.
“You’ll have a rough time when you come back to practice.”
He flashed a deep dimpled grin, then turned to leave. I quickly raised my foot to block his path and tilted my chin.
“I came here to see you.”
He blinked, pointed at himself, and then frowned suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as he took a slow step back.
“Ah... right. Well, you’ve seen me now, so I’ll go.”
“Kim Sunghyun.”
Why was our leader’s intuition always this sharp?
“...What.”
“Sunghyun.”
“Damn it, what.”
With the sweetest, most pleasant smile I could muster, I said calmly,
“I need a favor.”
And right away, Kim Sunghyun’s face twisted like shattered glass.
