“I’m gonna die....”
The words slipped out before he realized, and Kim Sunghyun, staring blankly at the scenery frozen before him, hunched his shoulders and shut his mouth.
They had just barely finished filming the music video on time without even managing a proper meal all day, and were now hurrying to attend the Song Camp pre-meeting—doubled as a staff dinner.
As they headed toward the given location, the van filled with groans of pain echoing like a duet from all directions. Their schedule had been brutally tight.
Right now, their road manager had finally stopped the car at a rest area, muttering that he’d at least buy them some snacks, and had gone outside.
Catching sight of the shrunken, half-dead Sunghyun, Kang Ichae’s eyes gleamed. There was no way he’d ignore such delicious prey. He swiftly pulled out the ukulele he had stashed under his seat.
“I’m gonna diiie....”
And then, strumming the strings, he sang the line in a mocking tone.
“Kang Ichae, I’m warning you nicely—put the ukulele down.”
“I’m warning you nicely—put the ukulele down~....”
“I won’t say it twice.”
“Oh my, but I think you already did... ughk!”
Kang Ichae, who had been teasing nonstop, finally got smacked square on the back. Twisting his whole body as if in pain but clutching the ukulele to his chest as if defending his honor, he was glared at by Kim Sunghyun.
“Kang Ichae, do you think this is Hawaii? Didn’t you see the debut trainees avoiding you at the company earlier?”
“Ha! And why exactly would that be my fault?!”
“If a senior’s playing the ukulele and serenading them with a ‘song of love,’ obviously you’re the problem!”
“It was sweet, though,” he said shamelessly. Then, changing his bright grin into a serious look, he added,
“Besides, this is my own way of loosening up before Song Camp starts.”
“...With a toy you bought at a supermarket? What’s next, a hula dance?”
“Oh...? That’s not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll learn it.”
Kim Sunghyun grabbed the back of his neck. At this rate, he might actually pass out.
Beside me, Sung Jiwon, who had been quietly checking choreography videos on his phone, looked up at Ichae with mild curiosity.
“What’s with you today, Ichae? Something on your mind?”
“...Well....”
At that, Kang Ichae, who had been joking until now, hesitated slightly and murmured softly,
“...Yeah. Something’s bothering me.”
“Huh?”
“Baek Jijun....”
That answer caught everyone off guard, and all eyes turned to him.
Baek Jijun—of course, he was known as one of the top singer-songwriters representing emotional ballads, but no one had ever thought that would make Ichae nervous.
After all, this was that Kang Ichae.
From years of dealing with him, I could say confidently—unless the opponent was someone like Lim Hyunsu at minimum, he never got tense.
But to shatter my assumption, Ichae stroked the ukulele and added quietly,
“...Sometimes, he’s better than me.”
“Uh... yeah, Baek Jijun’s amazing.”
“To me, you’re way cooler, hyung!!!”
While the members each chimed in to cheer him up, I felt a strong sense of déjà vu.
The image of Lim Hyunsu reaching for her cigarette pack after hearing Ichae’s fan song years ago overlapped in my mind.
By the time the road manager returned with bags of food, Ichae’s expression was back to normal. Still, as the van sped down the Gyeongbu Expressway, he kept lingering in my thoughts.
“Ah, we’re here.”
About an hour later, the van stopped in front of what looked like a two-story detached house-turned-restaurant near Cheonggye Mountain.
Through the first-floor window of what seemed to be the main building, I could see the staff laughing and drinking together. A few had stepped outside to smoke at the patio tables.
We greeted the people we met outside and stepped into the restaurant—where PD Jung Junhwan came running over in excitement.
“Kang Ichae! The Dawn!!”
Not long ago, that same Jung Junhwan had been cold and sharp enough to cut glass, but now he looked like a completely different man—bright, almost giddy.
“Thank you so much for coming despite your busy schedule—!”
It was obvious he’d read every single article about The Dawn joining Song Camp. He was thrilled, seeing how much buzz the show was getting.
Pretending not to notice his ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) transparent excitement, I smiled politely. Jung Junhwan guided us to our seats, patting the members’ backs.
“Please, make yourselves at home. And Seo Hoyun, could I borrow you for a bit...?”
I followed his nod to a small empty table a little apart from the others.
Jung Junhwan sat down first, curling his large frame as if trying to make himself smaller, and leaned in, voice brimming with excitement.
“Seo Hoyun, the reaction’s already insane.”
He looks happy. A few days ago, he was practically trembling over text and calls.
As I poured him a drink, he gulped down the beer in one shot, glancing around, then started babbling again without pause.
“I knew it would blow up like this! When you said you wanted to change the proposal, when you threatened to take it to TBS if we didn’t accept, even when you asked to revise the appearance fee! I just felt it! This man’s got a devilishly captivating star quality! Do you know Song Camp is already number one in buzz right now? The director praises me every single day!”
Seems he really took this to heart.
The QBS director was the type who’d sell his organs as long as ratings were good, so it wasn’t all that surprising. I just smiled and gave him a polite line for form’s sake.
“You were the one generous enough to accept the idea, PD-nim. You’re the true MVP.”
“Honestly, I’m a little scared. You never know how things will go until they air. Maybe I’ll finally relax once the first episode’s out.”
He patted my shoulder, telling me to enjoy myself tonight, but then the restaurant entrance suddenly grew noisy.
“Oh—?! Didn’t expect you to come!!”
Stretching his neck to see, Jung Junhwan’s eyes widened before he hurried off. Pushing through the gathered staff, he approached a man entering the restaurant, spoke a few polite words, and soon led him over to our table.
“Alright, first time meeting each other, right? Let me introduce you—this is Baek Jijun.”
So this is that Baek Jijun.
He stared straight at me for a moment before slowly opening his mouth.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Baek Jijun.”
I hadn’t met him even once back in my PD days, so I knew nothing about him.
Despite his reputation, he looked surprisingly young. Scanning the room, he spotted Sung Jiwon and smiled warmly, reaching out his hand.
“I was really impressed by your drama OST.”
Then he politely complimented Jung Dajun and Kim Sunghyun in turn. Finally, when he reached Kang Ichae, he suddenly leaned forward.
“—Kang Ichae!!!”
“...Yes?”
“Phew, whew! You have no idea how moved I was listening to your new NerdyFreak song! How can you be so innovative every time?! As a fan, I’m so proud!!”
Ichae flinched and leaned his body back, blinking in confusion.
“...You’re... my fan?”
“Of course! My favorite is ‘Dive’ from the full album Wish! Though I do think the song that most defined your current style was definitely ‘Stardust’! Ahh, Baek Jijun, you’ve done it—meeting Kang Ichae in person!”
“Uh...”
Like a computer hit with an error, Kang Ichae froze, stammering helplessly as he looked around for help.
But Kim Sunghyun, Sung Jiwon, and Jung Dajun—who had all suffered under him lately—only gave dry, helpless laughs and stayed silent.
I was no different.
While Baek Jijun kept firing off questions—whether Ichae used samples or hand-coded every note, where he found inspiration, which artists he admired—I quietly drank with the staff, waiting for a good moment to slip away.
The air outside was warmer now, almost summer. The patio table once crowded with smokers was empty. Sitting on the edge, I pulled out my phone—only to hear the same voice from earlier behind me.
“Oh, Seo Hoyun.”
Turning around, I saw Baek Jijun again, a fresh cigarette between his lips.
I gave a brief nod and tried to pass, but he tucked the cigarette back into the pack and stepped in front of me.
“I actually wanted to talk to you. Guess I got lucky. Got a moment?”
“...Sure, go ahead.”
“Haha, I was gonna take it slow, but my mouth’s been itching....”
Glancing toward the restaurant as if to check that no one was listening, Baek Jijun lowered his voice carefully and asked—
“Mm, Seo Hoyun... have you ever thought about singing one of my songs?”
My brows furrowed before I could stop them.
...What now?
“...You mean your song, Mr. Baek Jijun?”
“Yes.”
The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. Unsure how to interpret this, I stayed silent, and Baek Jijun quickly waved his hands.
“Ah, no! Don’t misunderstand! I’m not asking you to join my team on Song Camp! I couldn’t face Kang Ichae if I did that.”
Flustered, he rushed to clarify, then paused to exhale quietly.
“...When Cheongbeom noona was all over The Dawn, I honestly didn’t care at all.”
Then he added that he’d never really paid attention to idols.
Lim Hyunsu was obsessed only with Kang Ichae.
I almost corrected him but decided to stay quiet and listen instead.
“But then, after I heard your voice in Bring Me the Camera, I got curious about The Dawn... and somehow I ended up visiting the set of Vile Trial...”
“Vile Trial?”
“I—! I’m not a stalker! I swear! A friend of mine works on the staff, and it was pure coincidence! Pure coincidence!”
He hurried to explain, coughing awkwardly before continuing.
“Anyway, I didn’t think much of it at first—just that your acting was impressive—but then I started listening to The Dawn’s albums, watching your broadcasts... The final blow was your song ‘Clouds and Wings’ on Perfect Singer. I got completely hooked on your voice. I stayed up all night writing a song because of it.”
It felt a little over the top, the kind of flattering talk celebrities get used to hearing. I was about to let it pass, but then Baek Jijun leaned in and lowered his voice.
“...To be honest, half the reason I came on Song Camp is because of you.”
“And the other half?”
“Well, obviously because of Kang Ichae. I got obsessed listening to The Dawn’s songs.”
Straightening his shoulders again, Baek Jijun smiled easily.
“So, my point is—after the program ends, I’d love for you to sing one of my songs. What do you say?”
On the surface, it wasn’t a bad offer.
Actually, it was a good one—a chance to collaborate with a well-loved mainstream artist. Clearly, the benefits outweighed the risks.
Even so, I couldn’t shake the image of Kang Ichae absentmindedly fiddling with his ukulele all the way here.
“Hmm, sure. Maybe someday, that could be nice.”
“...Oh...”
Surprised by my vague answer, Baek Jijun tilted his head slightly.
“...That kind of sounds like a rejection, doesn’t it?”
He brushed his thumb over the cigarette pack he’d been holding, then tucked it into his back pocket.
“Well... I did come on too strong. You don’t really know me yet. I’ll ask again when the show’s over.”
“......”
“By then, you won’t be able to say no.”
With a confident grin, Baek Jijun turned and walked back inside the restaurant.
I found myself wondering what it was about him that bothered Kang Ichae so much—when, suddenly, music drifted out through the open window, carried by the night breeze.
From inside the restaurant came the loud clamor of singing and laughter.
【...—Hey, Hey, Hey! Focus on me!】
Jung Dajun and Sung Jiwon were singing our third fan song, “Name This Feeling,” with Kang Ichae’s ukulele accompaniment. Kim Sunghyun was crouched in a corner, both hands covering his face.
“They’re really letting loose.”
Most of the guests weren’t reacting much—just a few polite claps while the staff whooped and cheered. No one looked openly hostile, at least.
Arms crossed, I watched Kang Ichae furiously strumming those four strings.
【When everything starts to blur, you’re the only one I see
Swallow the orange glow and melt the pale blue away】
Lately, Kang Ichae had changed a little.
He’d stopped dancing around subjects. He’d become oddly honest with his feelings, and when he smiled, it carried genuine warmth.
A complete contrast to that silent, brittle winter version of him—quiet, but ready to shatter at any moment.
‘What’s going through your head now?’
Of all the questions he had thrown at me that day, not a single one could I answer sincerely. Since the awards ceremony, the system hadn’t shown itself even once, forcing me to tread carefully with every word and action.
When the heavy silence finally broke, he had declared that he’d get his self-composed song on Billboard—and left for the U.S. a few months later.
Even if that trip had been half an escape, I had to let him go. That was the price of my silence.
After that, I spent months barely managing to handle the chaos right in front of me—until I went to meet him again.
Back then, all I could think about was how to coax an angry kid into cooperating.
But—
“How have you been?”
The same Kang Ichae who once told me to trust him and ask for help came back with results that proved he’d meant every word.
【My love, I want to see every sky with you】
Honestly, it caught me off guard, and my mind spun, recalibrating every plan I’d made.
On the way out of the airport, when I asked if he was fine with being put in a rivalry setup on Song Camp, he just leaned against the window, letting the wind in, and nodded like it was nothing.
His lips curved in a cheerful arc.
“Hyung, buy me a candy.”
Nothing was resolved, yet somehow he’d changed.
【Pull the sunset beyond the dawn】
He started avoiding topics I’d dislike and baited me only when it was necessary.
He clearly knew it was best to focus on the goal for now, and I appreciated that—
but still, something about it left a bitter taste.
【From dawn to dawn
with my glow every day and night】
—Not because I didn’t trust him.
But because that young fool was quietly helping me without ever asking for an explanation.
My runaway conscience kept poking its head up, demanding to know what the hell I was doing.
【How do you name this feeling
Tell me, you know what this is】
Clicking my tongue softly, I brushed my arm and started back toward the restaurant.
【How do you name this feeling
Or should I be the one to call your—...】
By the end of the fierce strumming, Kang Ichae had actually broken his ukulele. His face turned pale.
The other members, startled, flailed in confusion until I walked over and pressed down on each of their heads in turn, then sat heavily beside Kim Sunghyun.
Our eyes met—Kang Ichae gave a sheepish grin, hiding the ruined instrument behind his back.
Sorry,
I thought silently.
Your hyung’s a hopeless case.
But after all this time together, he probably already knew that better than anyone.
So, since we were already in this mess—
“Who’s making all this noise?”
“—It was Dajun! He started singing and smashed the instrument!!”
“What?!!!”
—let’s roll in the dirt one more time.
