“What was the point of calling us here, then?”
Joo Woosung clicked his tongue as the surround sound filled the room with endless screaming and splattering blood from the horror movie, leaning back against the sofa.
The group known as Seokkamo—a long-running regular gathering—had continued meeting roughly every two weeks, maintaining their meaningless chatter like clockwork.
This time, they were here because Lim Hyunsu, who’d been whining about boredom lately, insisted they come to her studio to watch a movie with her projector. The screen flickered busily, but no one in ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) the room seemed to care.
Lim Hyunsu was squealing at the top of her lungs over one of The Dawn’s B-side tracks that Kang Ichae had written and composed, playing it on repeat, while Kim Heeyoung yawned wearily, sorting through printed photos on the table.
Joo Woosung wasn’t fond of horror either; he just fiddled with his phone, waiting for the person who was supposed to arrive soon.
‘Why does this keep bothering me.’
All five top-trending videos on YouTube were dominated by The Dawn. He leaned his head back against the sofa.
<[Your House Is Under the Streetlight Ep.23 / The Dawn] This Idol... Is Strong!>
It was a variety show filmed in a pub-style studio, where two regular hosts invited celebrity guests to drink and chat. Judging by the thumbnail, everyone except the maknaes had appeared.
Dragging the progress bar to the end, he saw Kim Sunghyun and the panelists slumped over the table while Sung Jiwon sipped leisurely from his glass and Seo Hoyun smiled quietly.
[Has Sung Jiwon lost his mind hahahahahaha how many bottles is that now hahahahaha]
[I didn’t know his tolerance was that high. First time I’ve seen the hosts KO’d.]
[Seo Hoyun’s a monster, lol. Doesn’t even drink but gets everyone else wasted.]
[He must be a lightweight T_T that blush is adorable.]
They probably just touched him up with blush during the break.
Joo Woosung remembered clearly how Seo Hoyun had downed several bottles in one sitting without his complexion changing a shade.
He could bet all his real estate that Hoyun had calculated every move—meticulously managing his image to perfection, knowing exactly what fans liked.
【I’m always just grateful to our fans....】
The next recommended video was a famous American late-night talk show hosted by a comedian. Black Call had appeared there a few times; it was the show artists were invited to after hitting the Billboard charts.
The melody of “Come Closer,” The Dawn’s new title track, began to play.
Even with its sharp beats and demanding choreography, Seo Hoyun moved with effortless grace.
‘He looks like he’s dancing,’ Joo Woosung thought grudgingly, watching until the stage ended and the next prerecording began—this time a winter-themed set resembling an American home for the song “Film.”
【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】
Leaning by the window frame, Hoyun turned toward the camera, singing as snow drifted outside. Joo Woosung let out a faint groan.
【If all of this is for you
then I think I’m fortunate】
For some reason, his stomach twisted.
He rubbed his forehead with his palm and exhaled sharply when Kim Heeyoung, flipping through her photo pile, suddenly spoke up.
“Hey, quiz time. Who can guess what I changed since then?”
“Your nails?”
“Hair color?”
“You brats didn’t even look at me, did you....”
She tapped her bangs and laughed good-naturedly despite the lack of attention—then a cool, indifferent voice came from the doorway.
“I’m here.”
Lifting his gaze from his phone, Joo Woosung saw a man with a cold expression walk past him.
“...Been a while, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Seo Hoyun replied flatly, glancing briefly at Kim Heeyoung. She stared back in confusion as he lightly tapped his own bangs.
“Composer-nim, here. I brought this straight from the airport.”
Standing slouched beside the sofa, he pulled a gift out of a shopping bag and tossed it to Lim Hyunsu, who caught it instinctively and blinked in surprise.
“What’s this?”
“A present. I picked it up while I was in the States.”
“Unnie, careful. There could be a bomb inside,” Joo Woosung muttered.
“I swear, if I die here, the culprit is Seo Hoyun,” Lim Hyunsu mumbled as she tore open the wrapping—and screamed.
“Ah!! Holy crap!!! It’s the Metal Chemistry Heart original poster!!!”
“Hard to get, right?”
“Oh my god! Amazing!! Thank you so mu—”
She froze mid-shout, frowned, and spoke again suspiciously.
“...Wait, no. No, I’m not falling for this again. What do you want, huh? Just spit it out.”
“Sorry?”
“I have instincts. Every time you act shady like this, something unlucky happens.”
“Nothing in particular.”
Hoyun’s drooping eyebrows and faintly defeated tone made her hesitate.
“W-what, really? Nothing you want?”
“Well, actually, there is.”
“Ah, fuck, I knew it!”
‘Here we go again,’ Joo Woosung thought.
He’d seen that expression countless times before—the look Hoyun got right before toying with someone.
Ignoring Lim Hyunsu’s yelling that he should go bother Kang Ichae if he wanted a song, Hoyun casually slid another shopping bag toward Kim Heeyoung.
“PD Kim, this is for you.”
“Oh~ what’s this, mine too? ...Wow, how’d you know I love this candle scent?”
“I’m glad.”
Hoyun yawned, then slumped down on the empty spot next to Joo Woosung. He hadn’t given him anything, not even an apology, but Woosung didn’t mind.
‘Something’s... off.’
The feeling had started when he’d seen him on video, but in person, the dissonance was stronger.
His neatly kept hair, his blank face—nothing had changed, yet he seemed oddly subdued. As if something deep inside was weighing him down.
Just as unease filled Woosung’s chest, Hoyun yawned again—and their eyes met.
Despite the drowsy look, Woosung flinched like he’d been caught staring.
“—Seo Hoyun, aren’t you flying to Japan in a few days?”
Kim Heeyoung’s perfectly timed question broke the tension, letting him breathe again.
“...Yes, that’s right.”
“You’re releasing Flight in a Japanese version, right? Isn’t The Dawn gonna win the Grand Prize this time? I heard the tally’s already done!”
By mid-November, most award show tallies were complete. The results could shift slightly based on judges’ scores, but overwhelming album sales usually decided the outcome.
“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”
That meant Seo Hoyun might finally get the award he’d always wanted.
Yet even with that achievement within reach, he didn’t look particularly happy.
Normally, this topic would’ve made him crack a sarcastic joke like, ‘If we don’t win, please disband Black Call.’
So why did Woosung feel strangely cautious around him? Hoyun only sat there quietly chatting with Lim Hyunsu.
“—By the way, this picture looks like a professional shoot. Maybe I should debut as a celebrity myself. Don’t you think Lim Hyunsu’s wasting that face?”
“Sorry, composer-nim, but don’t you need fans first to be a celebrity?”
“W-what, I have fans, bastard!”
Ranting that people took her for granted because she was too accessible, Hyunsu threw a fit. Hoyun ignored her and picked up one of the photos scattered on the coffee table.
“What’s this?”
“Min Jiheon took it.”
Kim Heeyoung answered. The picture had been taken when Jiheon first joined one of their meetings—he’d found an old camera on the studio’s second floor and snapped candid shots of the three of them.
Apparently it had come out so refreshingly different from their usual self-timer selfies that Heeyoung had it printed right away.
“I see.” Hoyun nodded slightly, then asked,
“Now that you mention it, Min Jiheon isn’t coming today?”
“Ah, said he’s busy.”
“Really? How’s he doing lately?”
“Well...”
Before Woosung could reply, Lim Hyunsu—still clutching her precious Metal Chemistry Heart poster—jumped in.
“He said he wants to get back into drama work, went to a meeting today. Oh, and did you know he’s got a dog now? I should probably air out the studio before he brings it over—don’t want the smoke smell to stick. And get this, he’s so considerate! While we were all comparing how badly Seo Hoyun’s screwed us over, he stayed totally silent.”
Normally, Hoyun would’ve teased her for that, but this time he didn’t react.
“...Hmm.”
He just stared at the photo for a while, then smiled faintly.
“Came out nice. Cute.”
Even Joo Woosung, who’d been watching him closely, felt his skin crawl. Lim Hyunsu’s hair stood on end.
“Hold on.”
In the uneasy silence, Hoyun’s phone buzzed. The name flashing on the screen read Little Brother Bastard.
For the first time that evening, an unguarded emotion flickered across his face. He frowned slightly and grabbed his coat.
“I’ll head out first.”
“Uh... okay.”
He answered the call as he walked briskly out.
Lim Hyunsu stammered, “Wh-what’s with him? Where’s the Seo Hoyun I know?!”
“Exactly,” Woosung muttered.
“There aren’t even cameras! Why’s he acting like that?!”
Both rubbed at their goosebumps, shouting at each other.
“Damn it, when Min Jiheon said Seo Hoyun changed, I thought it was nonsense. But seeing it now—it’s creepy as hell.”
“Come on, you two. He’s just mellowed with age,” Kim Heeyoung scolded gently. “He’s really kind to the staff these days.”
Woosung sighed, stretching his legs out toward the space Hoyun had left and staring at the door.
The heaviness he’d felt earlier returned.
‘I get it now. Why it felt off.’
He rubbed at his eye, suddenly weary.
‘Seo Hoyun, still the same as ever.’
Whenever he lost his composure, it was always because of his brother.
***
He drove his SUV to the city crematorium on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province.
It was a quiet weekday afternoon, almost no one around. Still, he pulled his cap low and his mask tight before stepping out—didn’t want to risk being recognized by a staff member.
‘Nothing bad happened... right?’
From the start, the call itself had been strange—his brother asking to meet “if you’re free.” The fact that the meeting place was here made it even stranger.
It wasn’t an anniversary or any special occasion.
Before reaching the building where their parents’ ashes were kept, he spotted a familiar back seated on a bench near the memorial trees.
A bouquet lay beside him; earphones trailed from a small, battered MP3 player.
“Seo Hojin.”
He called out, but the other didn’t seem to hear.
He took a slow step closer, hand reaching to tap his brother’s shoulder—
“Hey, you—”
Hojin’s head lifted first, turning toward him.
“Hyung.”
Pulling the earphones from his ears, smiling gently with that familiar, old MP3 in hand—
“When did you get here?”
—it was Seo Hojin.
And yet, somehow, he looked... terribly unfamiliar.
