Since debut showcase day, it was the first time he’d felt this nervous.
“Sunghyun, here’s your access pass.”
Why did his throat feel so dry today of all days?
Kim Sunghyun accepted the broadcast station pass that Sung Jiwon handed him, trying hard to hide how his insides were burning. As they walked down the hallway, every time an employee wearing an ID card around their neck passed by, his tension rose even higher.
He let out a quiet sigh and recalled the day, a few days ago, when he’d met with Seo Hoyun.
“A favor?”
“Yeah.”
After sending Jung Dajun and Sung Jiwon ahead to the practice room, Seo Hoyun had kept only him behind, saying he had a request. Then he suddenly dropped a program title out of nowhere.
“Kim Sunghyun, you know we got a pre-meeting request from Song Camp, right?”
Song Camp.
It was a program where several composers and artists appeared to create new songs within a limited time.
It had already completed two successful seasons, and the offer had come from a network with considerable popularity—so there was no way not to know about it.
When the show first aired as a pilot, most people had written it off as just another survival program that would crash and burn.
But contrary to those predictions, Song Camp’s ratings had skyrocketed every episode.
“...Yeah. But why are you bringing that up all of a sudden?”
“I’ve got something that day, so I might be a bit late.”
Seo Hoyun met his eyes and said,
“There’s a chance the Song Camp PD might leave the meeting before I arrive.”
He blinked once and gave an ominous little smile.
“So, stall him for me.”
“...What?”
“Keep the PD from leaving until I get there. Somehow, just... hold him.”
The request was so blunt that it caught him completely off guard. And yet, Seo Hoyun looked perfectly calm, as if it were only natural that Sunghyun would agree.
“Kim Sunghyun, you’ll help, right?”
Whether it meant grabbing his pant leg or begging on his knees—his curved smile made it sound like he’d find it entertaining either way.
How the hell am I supposed to...?
The words rose up to his throat, but Sunghyun swallowed them down.
He knew, even without saying it «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» aloud, that the company was trying to quietly shove The Dawn into the background.
And now, this was a chance Hoyun had clawed out for them through sheer stubborn effort. As the leader, he couldn’t refuse. He had to hang on, no matter what.
Even if it meant literally clinging to someone’s pants.
Taking a deep breath and firming his resolve, Kim Sunghyun followed the road manager into the meeting room.
“Ah, you’re here. Welcome, I’m Jung Junhwan, main PD of Song Camp.”
“Ah, hello!”
A warm-looking man stood up from his chair, introducing himself as PD Jung Junhwan. Behind him, the assistant director and the writer followed with greetings. Sunghyun shook hands after the manager and took a seat opposite the PD.
“Come to think of it, I don’t see a few of The Dawn members here.”
“Ah, I’m sorry. Seo Hoyun had a personal schedule, so he might be a little late.”
“Ah, I see. What about Kang Ichae?”
Sunghyun faltered for a moment, and the road manager quickly stepped in.
“Kang Ichae had a prior commitment, unfortunately, so he couldn’t make it today. We appreciate your understanding.”
“Hmm, I see...”
PD Jung tilted his head slightly, then gave a faint, unreadable smile.
“Well, that’s a shame.”
Something in his tone made the back of Sunghyun’s neck prickle.
Everything about the meeting seemed smooth on the surface—the PD was polite, professional, and his voice calm—but something felt off.
While trying to guess how much longer it would take for Seo Hoyun to arrive, Sunghyun spoke as evenly as possible.
“I’ve been following all your past broadcasts, so it’s truly an honor for us to be here as potential participants for Song Camp Season 3.”
“Haha, I appreciate that. Then you must be familiar with the format?”
At his gesture, the assistant director gathered the papers on the table and distributed organized copies of the proposal to him, Sung Jiwon, Jung Dajun, and the road manager.
“Well, you probably know how we work. Not much has changed. Once teams are formed, the cast members have to compose a demo-level song within the time limit based on a given mission. Ah, The Dawn will likely be assigned as a single team if you sign on.”
The PD gave a thorough, seamless explanation of the concept, format, and overall editing direction. He even answered every question from the members and the manager in detail.
“...So, PD-nim, when will the casting be finalized?”
“Hmm.”
After jotting down notes throughout the meeting, PD Jung suddenly stopped his pen and rubbed his chin.
“Before that, I need to check one thing.”
“Ah, of course.”
“I was called in by the director earlier today, and I heard some... odd rumors.”
At that moment, a line from Hoyun’s earlier warning flashed through Sunghyun’s mind.
“Oh, by the way, you’d better be careful around PD Jung Junhwan.”
“Heard that your member, Kang Ichae, went off to the U.S. and hasn’t been in touch. And WH Entertainment’s preparing a new group, right?”
“He’s ambitious and talented, but... his personality isn’t great.”
“I still pushed hard to convince him—he can produce great footage when he’s in the mood, you know.”
“But he likes to test people.”
“And I can’t just take unnecessary risks, can I? So, I need to clarify a few things first.”
Thanks to the heads-up, Sunghyun managed to stay calm and waited for what would follow.
“So, is Kang Ichae confirmed to join?”
PD Jung smiled with his eyes but his gaze sharpened as it swept over the group. As if expecting this question, the road manager jumped in immediately.
“We’ll need internal confirmation on that, so we’ll get back to you—”
“PD-nim.”
Sunghyun cut in, interrupting the manager. PD Jung’s sharp eyes turned on him, but Sunghyun didn’t flinch.
“...As for the new group, that’s something the company’s handling cautiously, so it’s difficult for us to comment.”
“Ah, I see.”
The answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. PD Jung’s tone cooled noticeably.
Swallowing hard, Sunghyun continued.
“However, regarding our member, Kang Ichae—I can speak with certainty.”
He was the one who’d personally seen Ichae off at the airport when he’d flown to the U.S. months ago.
Back then, Ichae had only smiled faintly before handing him a small external hard drive from his bag.
“We’ve spent years chasing the same goal together, so I can confidently say I know Kang Ichae well.”
For a few days, he’d been too anxious to open it. But when he finally did, the drive was full of countless music files—beats of every style and rhythm.
“He might look like a free spirit on the surface, but he’s always put the fans, the stage, and The Dawn first. That hasn’t changed.”
Sunghyun couldn’t forget the faint bluish glow from the monitor that night—and what he’d felt then.
“Kang Ichae will definitely come back.”
Someone who made songs full of love for The Dawn wasn’t going anywhere.
“So I just wanted to tell you, you don’t need to worry about him not joining Song Camp.”
As he realized everyone in the room was staring at him, his voice trailed off awkwardly at the end.
Even though his words were sincere, they didn’t seem to move the PD. Jung Junhwan tapped his pen against the table for a few moments, then straightened up when his phone buzzed.
“......Ah, excuse me for a moment.”
After glancing at the screen, he muttered something about an urgent work call and bolted out of the meeting room before anyone could stop him. The assistant director and main writer quickly followed him out like fleeing birds.
Damn it!
A chilling thought flashed through his mind—they were probably weighing The Dawn against another potential lineup. Sunghyun jumped up, banging his knee on the table leg, but there was no time to complain.
He dashed into the hallway, only to find that the PD was already gone.
Groaning, he scratched through his hair and pressed his forehead against the wall.
“Ugh...”
Could things possibly go any worse?
How was he supposed to face Seo Hoyun now? He lifted his head in despair—only to find Sung Jiwon and Jung Dajun standing there, smiling fondly at him.
“Sunghyun-hyung...!”
“...What.”
He answered brusquely out of embarrassment, but Dajun, with teary puppy eyes, didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Hyung, you’re just... pure light.”
“Yeah. For a moment there, I was jealous of Ichae.”
“......”
“Sunghyun, I’ll work harder too, so one day someone will say that to me!”
Watching Dajun yell that he’d never leave The Dawn as long as he lived, Sunghyun sighed softly.
If Ichae had heard him just now, he wouldn’t have been touched—he’d be laughing his ass off.
“Alright, alright! Drinks are on me for our hero, the pride of The Dawn!”
When no one reacted, Dajun awkwardly fished a crumpled 5,000 won bill out of his pocket and marched to the nearby vending machine. But the stubborn slot kept spitting it back out.
“It’s fine, don’t—”
“Wait right there! I’ll go get change from the manager!!”
And off he went at a sprint.
Lowering the hand he’d raised to stop him, Sunghyun let out another slow breath. He tried to chase away the creeping anxiety, but the worst-case scenarios kept circling his head.
When would Seo Hoyun finally show up?
What exactly was Kang Ichae doing right now?
Had the company really abandoned them?
As he exhaled again, the machine whirred—buzz—the vending slot swallowing a bill.
Sung Jiwon tilted his head slightly toward him and asked with a bright smile,
“Sunghyun, what do you want to drink?”
