WH Entertainment headquarters.
Since I’d stopped by home for the first time in a while, I got out of the taxi right in front of the first-floor lobby.
On the display board installed like a show window outside, a scene from the “Gravity” music video was playing.
I watched it for a moment, then nodded in greeting to the people who recognized me and entered the building.
After scanning my security card and stepping into the lobby, I was greeted by another huge screen—apparently they’d renovated again.
This time, it was filled with Kang Ichae’s beaming face as he and Kim Sunghyun raised the Song Camp trophy together. The same clip that had been replayed to death across QBS, social media, and YouTube all week.
I lingered briefly on Ichae’s radiant, happiest-man-alive expression before moving on, returning polite nods to employees who passed by as I headed for the elevator.
I pressed 19 to visit Ichae’s new studio. Elevator music started to play—“Three Os,” of course.
I couldn’t help but let out a small, incredulous laugh.
“Unbelievable...”
Just a few months ago, there hadn’t even been a trace of The Dawn’s “D” in this building.
Now this? Maybe this was the power of Song Camp and Billboard.
When the elevator dinged at the destination floor, the view beyond the glass caught my eye. Ichae had requested a new studio because his old one had become impossible to move in with the flood of instruments piling up.
Walking leisurely down the hallway, I stopped before a door labeled KANG ICHAE. Stacked boxes filled the space in front. Smiling to myself, I unlocked the door.
‘It really took forever to get to this point.’
As that thought crossed my mind, I entered Ichae’s birthday and The Dawn’s debut date into the keypad. The knob turned—
“Yo, hyung’s he—”
Beep-beep-beep—
“Ah, you do not know?”
I found Kang Ichae sitting amid a mess of equipment, dangling his red sneakers as he strummed away.
“This... is called a ‘C chord.’”
“Waaaaaah!!!”
While Kim Sunghyun was diligently cleaning up the studio, the idiot had plugged an electric guitar into an amp and was having the time of his life.
“Kiyaaah! That’s the legendary C chord?!”
“No! This one’s... a G chord!”
Even Jung Dajun and, unbelievably, Sung Jiwon had joined in on the chaos.
Spouting nonsense like, “What is this angelic melody? This isn’t the G chord I know!!” and “So this is the true power of Billboard songwriter Kang Ichae?!”
I strode over and yanked the cable out of the amp, then grabbed Ichae by the back of the neck and tossed him onto the sofa.
“Kyah!”
“Hey, clean up. Don’t you see Sunghyun working his ass off?”
“S-Seo Hoyun...!”
Kim Sunghyun looked up from wiping dust with a mop, eyes faintly emotional. I forced Ichae to start gathering his instruments and then sprawled across the sofa myself. As I groped the table for a snack bag, Sunghyun sighed as if to say of course and went back to cleaning.
Munching chips, I checked my phone. Dajun, pretending to tidy the area, crouched down in front of me, eyes sparkling.
“Hyung hyung hyung! Did you see the MV playing in the lobby?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s insane! We’re total super hot rockstars now!”
“Mhm.”
“...Why’re you answering like that—huh!!”
He pouted and leaned closer—then his eyes went wide as he peeked at my phone.
“Hoyun hyung, you’re texting with Baek Jijun?!”
All heads snapped toward me.
I kept chewing calmly.
“He’s asking you to sing his song?!!”
“—WHAT?!!!!”
The moment Dajun screamed, Ichae dropped his precious red guitar and sprinted over.
“Absolutely not!! Not even if the world folds in half, tell him NO!!!!!”
Where did that mature version of him from a few weeks ago go?
“I’d rather have dirt thrown in my eyes~!!!”
“Sunghyun, get some dirt from the plant pot.”
“Already scooping.”
Maybe the Kang Ichae from those interviews really was an illusion.
With the reflexes of someone long accustomed to cleaning alone, Sunghyun quickly replied, frowning as he hefted the entire pot. Ichae frantically waved his arms.
“Ahhh~~! Seriously!! Hoyun hyung singing Baek Jijun’s song is the worst thought ever. Don’t you pity me? I can’t even work with anyone but you guys—I get shy!”
“Hey, Kang Ichae.”
“I’m serious! Not just you, no one! Not our main vocal, not our leader, not the maknae! Block everyone else!!”
“Hey.”
“Ugh, I might get so traumatized I’ll never write again~.”
I pressed a finger to his forehead.
“I already said no.”
“...Really?”
“Yeah, idiot.”
Personally, I didn’t care much, but for The Dawn’s sake, it wasn’t a bad choice.
Still, I didn’t like his overreaction when he’d caught me texting Baek Jijun earlier. Alarms had gone off in my head. Better to cut the whole thing off before it became a problem.
When I tossed him my unlocked phone, he hesitated, then opened the chat and started scrolling, frowning.
“‘Wait’? Wait for what? What am I, instant noodles?”
He kept grumbling, muttering verse after verse of complaints about “thinking talent alone will do it” and “it’s like dressing up just to impress your crush.”
I almost smacked him, but restrained myself and stood.
“Hyung, where’re you going?”
We were supposed to discuss the comeback, but seeing the chaos, that was hopeless.
“Personal schedule.”
“I’ll come too!!”
“Same. I’ve got a variety shoot.”
“Then I’ll check on our juniors.”
“Wait, all of you? What about me?! Cute, helpless Ichae?!”
“Finish cleaning up...”
Sunghyun answered through gritted teeth. Ichae, claiming unbearable exhaustion, promptly collapsed into fake tears—ones he hadn’t even shed when they’d won Song Camp.
Expressionless, Sunghyun simply stepped back, letting him tumble into the pile of boxes.
We left him wailing for company and headed out of the studio.
In the hallway, Sung Jiwon suggested stopping by the small lounge area with vending machines and chairs.
Each of us grabbed a can drink and gazed silently out over the Han River from the 19th-floor window. Then Dajun spoke up.
“You know, Ichae hyung seems totally back to normal, right?”
“Too normal. That’s the problem.”
He’d bounced back—if anything, overly so.
Even though the system had warned me to keep an eye on him, saying we couldn’t be sure what might happen in his current state, he did seem fine for now.
At my reply, Dajun giggled, his pale cheeks puffing up. Sunghyun and Jiwon both chuckled softly after him.
‘Yeah. It’s fine to let good things just be good.’
Chart rankings, achievements, fame, awards—
All of that mattered, of course, but it couldn’t outweigh the value of the people alive and right in front of me.
“Hyung {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} hyung hyung, look at the river!”
“What.”
“It’s so wide, right? Do you know what all of that is?!”
See, sometimes he could still be cute.
The corner of my mouth began to lift.
“What, your love for me?”
“Nope.”
Dajun spread his arms dramatically.
“Surprisingly, it’s all your humiliation energy, hyung~~!”
“Pfft.”
“Ahaha, Dajun, that’s harsh.”
“That’s hip-hop!!”
I smiled faintly, watching him.
‘...Our maknae.’
Yeah, maybe I’d spoiled him too much.
Because I’d thought I wouldn’t be seeing him for long anyway.
But if he was someone I’d have to keep carrying forward from now on—
“Ah, wait, hold on, Jung Dajun.”
“...Ah, Dajun-ah.”
Sunghyun, who’d been doubled over laughing, straightened abruptly, locking eyes with me, his face going stiff as he called out the maknae’s name. Sung Jiwon, who’d been smiling, looked slightly uneasy as he echoed him.
“Ahem! Then, Hoyun hyung, do you know how far this river stretches?! It’s one kilometer wide, but over 500 kilometers long, all the way to the Yellow Sea—”
Completely oblivious to the shift in mood, Dajun kept chattering.
“——Jung Dajun!! This drink is really good!!”
In the end, Sunghyun shoved his can into Dajun’s mouth to shut him up. At the same moment, my phone buzzed—it was a message from our manager.
I clicked my tongue, realizing I’d missed the perfect moment to grab the kid.
“...I’ll be off.”
“Okay! Have a good one, Hoyun!!”
“Fighting!! Do your best!!”
Their enthusiastic send-off echoed behind me.
Then came the whispers.
“Wh-what’s wrong?!”
“Dajun-ah, Sunghyun just saved your life.”
“Did you see Hoyun’s eyes a second ago? I sobered right up...”
“...I almost got buried in that river, didn’t I?”
I chuckled quietly and made my way toward the underground parking lot, where the manager was waiting.
For some reason, my mood lately hadn’t been bad at all.
Not only had we entered Billboard, but we’d also been invited to the prestigious Music TV Awards Live in the U.S. Once we made our comeback, it’d be nothing but a flower road ahead.
I still hadn’t cleared Kang Ichae’s scenario quest, but I wasn’t too worried. Just a little more time.
“Things are finally going smoothly.”
Satisfied, I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button.
—...Hey!
...My head rang sharply.
For a split second, I thought I heard something whisper by my ear. I looked up, but only the BGM of “Three Os” played.
Ding!
[What’s wrong?]
“...Nothing...”
...Tinnitus?
Tilting my head slightly, I straightened up again.
***
“Seo Hoyun-ssi, let’s take a short break before the next shoot!”
It was Meeting Your Favorite, the YouTube variety show that had been popular for about three years—capturing brief encounters between celebrities and their fans.
Having lunch and chatting with Noeul, who’d been my fan since Second Chance, had eased the faint discomfort in my chest.
“Wow, Seo Hoyun-ssi really does like his fans. Your face just lit up.”
“Haha, seeing them gives me energy.”
Playing it off with an easy smile, I earned a few more compliments from the staff—“No wonder he’s so popular.” Then they mentioned the next fan I’d be meeting.
“This one’s really something special.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“They work in the same industry, and they said they’ve been your fan for a long time.”
“Ah, then I’ll have to treat them well.”
Of course. Noeul was precious.
As the mic was adjusted, I waited at the marked spot. The strange sound from the elevator still echoed faintly in my head, and I found myself fiddling with my earlobe. Across from me, the staff buzzed with nervous excitement, like they were expecting a surprise. Then suddenly, silence fell. The assistant director signaled me quietly.
“Hoyun-ssi! They’re coming!”
Why were they all so excited?
They’d said “industry insider,” so I’d assumed it was a staff member. A sense of foreboding prickled at my neck.
Just as I was about to ask for more details, something small and white came flying at me from the side.
“Ugh!”
Instinctively bending down, I caught it in my arms—then felt a warm tongue licking my cheek and nose.
I lifted it up—black nose, long fur, perky ears—its tiny tail spinning like a propeller.
‘...What the hell?’
Along with the usual puppy smell, there was a faintly familiar scent—sweet yet crisp, like citrus.
“Hey, are you... Malang...?”
As I looked into the puppy’s round black eyes, a voice shouted—
“Hoyun-ssiiii~~~~!!!”
A tall man came running, dragging the leash across the floor behind him. He yanked off his black cap and waved.
“Ah, it’s been so long~~!”
A Hallyu superstar. A ten-million-ticket actor. A so-called acting genius.
Instead of the rare fan Noeul, it was Min Jiheon—wearing a beige shirt and reddish linen slacks, casual as ever.
After flailing his hand in the air, he caught his breath, then twisted his body shyly, cheeks reddening.
“O-oh, did you wait long...?”
“......”
Ah. This bastard.
