I couldn’t react at all.
Standing frozen, staring in one direction, I must have looked strange enough that the trainees who’d first eyed me with curiosity now began glancing around uneasily—as if wondering whether I was staring at them.
“Looks like the kids really look up to you.”
Before any other feeling could slip into those glances, I deliberately forced a calm smile toward Sung Jiwon.
“...Thankfully, yeah. I never said it on air, but some of them told me they’ve been fans since elementary school.”
Sung Jiwon’s face stiffened, as if he’d noticed something off in my tone.
“Oh, really? Wait... then how old are they now?”
I heard Kim Sunghyun exclaim in disbelief beside me as I moved forward first. Jung Dajun, standing alone onstage and monitoring his performance with steady breaths, spotted us and waved his arms excitedly.
As I stepped closer to the maknae, Sung Jiwon leaned toward me and asked in a low voice,
“Hoyun, what’s wrong?”
“......”
“Did something happen?”
Trying not to look startled, I answered with studied ease.
“No. I just... thought I saw something wrong.”
.
.
.
Since Dajun’s YuYu Bank schedule wasn’t over yet, I stepped out for a drink to clear my head—and that was when I saw Song Jion standing by the vending machine. She was fumbling helplessly, as if it wasn’t working. I let out a deep breath and walked over.
“...Excuse me.”
“Oh, yes, yes.”
I slipped a few bills into the slot, pressed the buttons in quick succession, and soon several cans clattered down the chute.
“What do you want to drink?”
“...Sorry?”
“What are you drinking?”
“Anything! It’s fine!”
What did she used to like again?
Racking my memory, I handed her an ion drink and flashed a harmless smile, showing my teeth slightly.
“The vending machines here tend to glitch. You have to press the buttons a few times.”
“Ah, yes! I’ll remember that.”
At the same time, I gestured subtly to pull up her stats.
Ding!
[Song Jion
Singing: C+
Dance: B+
Variety: E0
Acting: E-
Charm: B-
Contribution: 0%]
‘...Right.’
No contribution.
I had thought Song Jion might somehow be connected to why I was dragged into Nugu Idol Tycoon, but apparently not.
While absent-mindedly rolling the can between my palms, I exhaled a quiet sigh and lowered my head.
“...Well, take care.”
Having confirmed what mattered, I turned to leave, but her careful voice stopped me.
“...Um, excuse me, sunbae.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Uh... I’ll pay you back for the drink later. Even if it’s through Mentor Sung Jiwon...”
That was it?
Having once been caught up in a mess after meeting Jeong Cheongyeon, my tone came out sharper than I intended. Even so, though she flinched slightly, Song Jion straightened her back and finished her words.
“It’s fine. It’s nothing.”
Trying not to let any tension show, I softened my gaze. Maybe my years of acting had paid off—because she visibly relaxed, even smiled a little, then spoke again.
“...No, really! I’ve heard so much about you from Mentor Sung Jiwon. He said you’re amazing, Senior Seo Hoyun.”
“......”
“Actually, I got into Starlight thanks to PD Kim Heeyoung’s recommendation... and she also said you were incredible—!”
What kind of nonsense had she been fed?
I half-tuned out her words, lowering my eyes. She was nervous, yet her face was alive with color; she looked nothing like the Song Jion from my last memory of her.
“...—That’s why I don’t want to make any mistakes in front of you. I really want to become like your group someday—”
“Isn’t it hard?”
“...Sorry?”
The question slipped out almost impulsively. I tilted my head slightly.
“...Being on a broadcast. Isn’t it tough?”
“Oh! You mean Starlight? It’s nerve-wracking, but I’m okay!”
Is that so?
Back in my program, you’d been overwhelmed from the start.
“I don’t know everything yet since it’s early, but the other trainees are kind and gentle. And here, my dream feels closer somehow...”
Because running into her bothered me, I’d briefly checked information about Starlight in the waiting room.
The show was... shockingly unpopular.
The format wasn’t bad, yet the ratings were abysmal. The only praise came from people saying it was fun when Sung Jiwon appeared.
In my view, the reason was obvious.
“Even if I don’t make the final lineup, I won’t give up...”
It lacked sensational villain edits.
As a result, there weren’t many malicious posts about the trainees.
Maybe realizing she’d talked too much, Song Jion hesitated and trailed off. I smiled faintly.
“...I’ll root for you.”
“...Ah!”
“I hope things go well.”
“...Y-yes!! Thank you!”
Her face lit up instantly. She bowed deeply and scurried off.
I watched her go, then leaned against the wall and ran a hand through my hair.
‘This feels strange.’
Starlight might be at rock bottom in popularity, but Song Jion was at least starting to make an impression.
Jeong Cheongyeon had given up on the entertainment world, yet Song Jion was challenging it again.
‘If she hadn’t appeared on my program back then...’
What would have become of the original Song Jion in that world?
If none of this had anything to do with Jeong Cheongyeon or Song Jion, then the system—
Ding!
Just as my thoughts were sinking, an unpleasant alert rang in my ears.
[...If you hadn’t gone to see Song Jion that day.]
[You wouldn’t have died, Seo Hoyun. Don’t you regret it?]
I had no idea why it was asking me that now.
Scowling, I muttered under my breath,
“...My fault for not driving safely.”
***
As Jung Dajun’s birthday approached, The Dawn released two music videos.
“Come Closer.”
The first began with The Dawn’s signature blue light.
Dawn filtered through the window; then, in an empty office, Seo Hoyun sat alone, typing rapidly.
Leaning back in his chair, he sighed deeply, saw his phone light up on the desk, turned it off with a conflicted look, and walked out.
【Come little closer】
As the drums kicked in, the scene shifted—Kang Ichae appeared, leaning casually against a glossy black SUV designed after a military vehicle, a phone pressed to his ear.
Lowering it, he smirked.
【You said you’d hate it
because you’d regret it later
after the hundredth question
Why are you so complicated?】
With a mischievous tone, he rapped the lines over the melody and tilted his head toward the sky.
【Would it be a sin to leave you alone?
I’ll treat only you as someone special in this world
Without permission,
Please come little closer】
The scene changed again. In a conference room buried under documents, Kim Sunghyun ran a hand through his hair, frowning as if things weren’t going well.
【You told me to stop wasting time
and turned away coldly,
I don’t really care】
Suddenly the door burst open—Sung Jiwon entered, scattering papers off the desk, snatching those in Sunghyun’s hand and tossing them into the air.
Then, smiling brightly at the dumbfounded Sunghyun—
【Don’t look at the clock
Step in time with me, grab my wrist
Match our pace—】
As the papers fluttered down, the background shifted to Seo Hoyun in an elevator. He tugged his employee ID off his neck and curled one side of his lips upward.
【I’m not exactly sorry, but that’s not the case
Once I start, I can’t stop
If you want to know how I feel,
come little closer】
Ding! The elevator chime rang through the melody. The location switched to the company lobby, where Seo Hoyun took Jung Dajun’s hand, spun him once, and pulled him to his feet.
They dashed outside together, where the rest of the members waited.
As they greeted each other and moved to board the SUV Kang Ichae had driven—
—beep-beep-beep—
The music cut out, replaced by the loud sound of an alarm as the trunk popped open and a burst of colorful balloons flew out.
【When our eyes meet
and I hold your hand, and you smile,
it’s like every problem disappears】
Grinning slyly, Kang Ichae spread his arms wide and unfurled a banner reading “THE DAWN.” Fireworks blossomed across the night sky.
【Yes, will we get—】
Shaking his head, Seo Hoyun shoved Kang Ichae into the trunk and climbed into the car himself. Smoke burst from the exhaust, and with the brilliant fireworks lighting the night, the vehicle sped away from the screen.
【Anyways, come little closer】
Just before disappearing, Kang Ichae reappeared through the rear window, throwing his arms around Kim Sunghyun, and the “Come Closer” video ended there.
Two days later—
【Hmm— Hmm—】
The music video for the sub-track “Film” was uploaded to YouTube.
It began outside The Dawn’s old, long-abandoned agency building. The camera followed the staff bustling about, past gleaming lights and reflective panels, through tangled cables, and finally up a white staircase to focus on Kim Sunghyun.
As a staff member moved away and the gentle intro played, Sunghyun turned his gaze and began to sing calmly.
【If all of this is for you,
then I don’t think it’s bad.】
Then Jung Dajun suddenly appeared beside him, spreading his arms wide.
【Where are we standing now?
Are our footprints still following the same path?
I want to ask, but I just wait,
I just see it coming】
Behind a reflector panel, Sung Jiwon lifted his head from the storyboard he was discussing with Kang Ichae.
【It ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) would be a lie to say there were no hardships,
the days we laughed carelessly and danced like fools,
the dawns when we swallowed our tears in secret】
Kang Ichae turned his head to the camera too, a sly smile curving his lips.
【Looking back, we were so naïve,
and that’s what made our film shine even brighter】
As soon as “THE DAWN”’s tracks were released, they topped every chart.
“Film” and title track “Come Closer” wrestled for first place, until the sub-track ultimately took the crown.
【Snow in summer, mirage in winter,
a sunflower greeting the moon,
a moonflower facing the sun—
the world’s full of things we can’t understand】
Not long after, Billboard predictions listed “Come Closer” and “Film” at #29 and #34.
【We’ll stay right where we are,
in our rightful place】
A week later, both songs climbed even higher than expected on the Billboard charts.
【Hmm – Hmm –】
As the melody reached its peak, the scene showed the familiar alley leading to their former agency. Then it rewound—slowly retracing time.
The sky turned blue, petals fluttered, leaves scattered, then white snowflakes drifted down—each season passing as if to symbolize the times The Dawn had spent there.
【Where are we standing now?
Are our footprints still following the same path?】
The sky dimmed again to a gray dawn. Under a faint streetlight at the alley’s mouth stood Seo Hoyun.
Beneath the spotlight-like glow, he lifted his chin slightly, a faint smile crossing his face through the drifting dust.
【I want to ask, but I just wait,
I just see it coming】
Following the soft hum, the screen darkened to black, and the word Film appeared—closing the music video.
Mid-November.
The sales count for THE DAWN’s album and even the domestic award tracking period had ended.
The records they set were the highest The Dawn had ever achieved.
【If all of this is for you,
then I think I’m fortunate.】
For Seo Hoyun, it was the perfect full stop.
