As soon as we returned from Japan, preparations began for the final concert to be held in Seoul.
After those hectic days, the only major event left was the year-end awards ceremony. Compared to last year’s chaos, everyone seemed a lot more relaxed—probably thanks to experience.
Still, since we’d decided to include a few songs that hadn’t been performed at the Japan concert, I had to endure relentless training under practice machine Sung Jiwon. Only by using the Baekchun Arts Awards as an excuse did I barely manage to escape that hell.
I slicked back my hair with pomade and threw on a simple double-breasted jacket without a tie. Just before stepping onto the red carpet, my manager glanced at the paper in my hand and sighed.
On it were the names of investors, CEOs, and various high-ranking figures.
“Ugh, Hoyun, can you memorize all those names?”
“Of course.”
I gave him a reassuring smile and tucked the paper away. Soon, the van door opened and camera flashes erupted.
“—Music, Billboard charts! Variety, national programs! Acting, a ten-million-viewer film! If you don’t know this man, you’re a spy! Seo Hoyun has arrived!”
As soon as I stepped onto the red carpet, I smiled brightly and waved. After posing at the photo line and signing the Baekchun Arts Awards board, I went inside.
Following the staff’s guidance toward the temporary waiting room set up behind the hall, I noticed a group of men in black suits gathered in the corridor, chatting around something.
Among them, a shock of bright chestnut-brown hair stood out.
‘I think I know who that is.’
I’d heard he was attending as a presenter.
Clicking my tongue, I tried to slip past unnoticed—but a hand suddenly reached out from the group and grabbed my arm.
“—Sorry! I just needed a quick word with Seo Hoyun!”
With a playful groan, Min Jiheon latched onto me.
“Come on, shall we?”
We have nothing to talk about. Get lost.
I glared at him, but he pretended not to notice, smiling as he gently pushed me forward.
“If it weren’t for you, I’d have been dead meat back there.”
Once we escaped the cluster of disappointed directors, Jiheon let out a small sigh.
“I feel like I’m getting a hole burned in the back of my head.”
It was my first proper appearance at a film industry event in a while—excluding variety shows and fashion gigs—so quite a few directors were sneaking glances, apparently interested in Jiheon.
“That’s not because of me. Director Joo said he’s eyeing you for Seo Hoyun’s next project.”
Ah. Next project.
“Hoyun, have you prepared your acceptance speech?”
“Am I even winning anything tonight?”
“How should I know?”
We arrived at the room with my name on the door. Once it shut behind us, I pulled the paper from my jacket and handed it to Jiheon.
“The company prepared a speech for me.”
“Huh? Really?”
Tilting his head, Jiheon scanned it—and immediately grimaced.
“This... this is like someone’s school notes!”
“I thought it was a wedding guest list.”
“CEO Jung Gayoung, Director Kim Jiwun... wow. Unbelievable. Look at this, every single name spelled out. The Dawn’s been around for years now, haven’t they? They’re still meddling like this?”
We had, indeed, been around for quite some time.
But they seemed to think acting was a completely separate matter—and were desperate to keep control.
Clicking his tongue, Jiheon folded the paper and handed it back.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be this bad... think you can get through the whole list before they cut you off?”
Probably not.
Just reading all those names without any flowery words would take at least five minutes.
“I’m busy because of this, so get out.”
In truth, I’d memorized it long ago. I just wanted to be alone.
“Are you kicking me out because I’m annoying?” he pouted, nailing it exactly, before turning to leave. His hand paused on the doorknob.
“The friends you introduced me to—they’re good people.”
They’re not my friends, you idiot.
After Jiheon left, I checked my phone. There was a new notification—a photo on the fan platform showing The Dawn members watching the Baekchun Awards together on a projector, all giving thumbs-up.
I clicked my tongue and opened my messenger app, resting my chin on my hand. As I drummed my fingers on the desk, a knock sounded. A staff member appeared to escort me to the main hall.
The Baekchun Arts Awards, held in a newly built hotel lobby, had separate tables for each category—film and TV.
“Wow, Hoyun! Congrats on the Billboard win!!!”
“Ahaha, thank you.”
I exchanged greetings with Directors Kim Jehyuk, Jang Sungshik, and Shin Heechan before sitting down. Then the lights dimmed, and the ceremony began.
After the TV division awards, a well-known comedian MC walked between tables, interviewing guests for light banter.
“Oh, here’s the Vile Trial team! Our young blood, Seo Hoyun and Shin Heechan! I know you’re shy in front of seniors, but how about a cute little heart—wait, what’s that gesture?!”
While Heechan shyly made a heart with his hands, I unleashed a rapid-fire series of trendy idol heart poses, making the MC squeal with delight.
“No way! Prosecutor Kang Giyeong! How does a prosecutor know all these trends?! What’s that heart you just did?!”
Rabbit heart.
I bent my index finger over my middle finger to switch it into a cat heart, then pressed half a heart to Jang Sungshik’s cheek, leaving the entire hall in chaos.
“Idols really are built different!” the MC laughed, and I just smiled, my conscience long gone.
Time passed, and soon it was time for the Best Supporting Actor – Film Division. Jang Sungshik nudged me.
“Get ready, Hoyun.”
I smiled, though my heart thudded faintly.
Up on stage, Min Jiheon stood with a microphone, smiling. After some light small talk, the VCR began rolling through the nominees’ faces.
“—The 61st Baekchun Arts Awards, Best Supporting Actor in Film—...”
I fixed my gaze on the stage, steadying my expression.
“—Vile Trial, Seo Hoyun! Congratulations!!!”
Thunderous applause erupted. Shin Heechan, Jang Sungshik, and Director Kim Jehyuk grabbed my shoulders and shook me.
“Dude!! Hoyun, congrats!!”
“Seo Hoyun!! Amazing!!”
Jang Sungshik said he’d predicted this all along, his face shining with genuine joy. Even Shin Heechan, who hadn’t won Rookie of the Year, congratulated me wholeheartedly.
“—In Vile Trial, Seo Hoyun portrayed corrupt prosecutor Kang Giyeong, creating powerful tension opposite the lead. Despite being his first film role, he delivered a remarkably strong performance, marking him as one of the most promising actors of the year. Congratulations.”
The paper in my pocket rustled as I stepped to the microphone.
WH Entertainment was probably watching live, crossing off names as I read them.
“Hoyun, can you memorize all those names?”
Of course I had.
“There are always people who work hard behind the spotlight.”
But I never said I’d mention them.
That long list didn’t include a single line for the staff who truly made it all possible.
“They’re the ones who film until dawn, nap in a sauna, then head back out to work until dawn again.”
It definitely wasn’t the kind of speech WH wanted. My manager would be tearing his hair out backstage—but I didn’t stop.
“The staff who commute all the way from Yeouido, who stay up through rain and snow to finish every shoot. I don’t know how to express how grateful I am. I could only receive this award thanks to their love and dedication to the film.”
Several directors and actors known for treating their crews well smiled and applauded.
“And above all, I’m here today because of Noeul. Thank you always for your support.”
It should’ve ended there. Staff below the stage were already signaling the cue to wrap up—but I just stood still, touching the stand mic.
“...Maybe I should consider what the person I care about truly wants from me.”
I was still standing at the crossroads.
Under the weight of a thousand eyes, I slowly opened my mouth.
“...Lastly...”
“I just wanted to be remembered as your brother.”
“...I’d like to add a personal message—to my younger brother.”
When I lifted my head, Jiheon blinked in surprise. I passed him a fleeting glance and looked straight into the camera.
“Idiot.”
Not sure if you’re watching this from home right now.
“...Cancel your plane ticket and don’t go abroad.”
It was the first time I’d ever mentioned my brother in public.
Even a few months ago, I wouldn’t have entertained his request at all. I’d have called it meaningless.
But the reason I made such a fool of myself here tonight was because of the look on Seo Hojin’s face back at the columbarium.
“It might sound clingy, but... let’s spend the holidays as a family this year.”
Under the dazzling lights, I smiled—confidently, on purpose.
Toward the brother who might still be watching from somewhere.
Even if, in the original world, my real brother had sacrificed himself for me.
Even if clearing this game meant going back to find him gone—
“...And don’t be afraid.”
No matter what, I’d keep the promise from long ago.
“No matter where you are, if you ever get lost—your brother will come find you.”
With one last smile, I stepped down from the stage, holding the trophy and bouquet.
The applause came late—awkward, hesitant—but soon melted into the following awards. Director Kim Jehyuk and actor Jang Sungshik each took home prizes as well.
The Vile Trial team embraced, the energy in the room refusing to fade even after the ceremony ended.
Back in the waiting room, my manager looked distraught. He asked if I’d forgotten my memorized lines. I just smiled and headed for the parking garage.
By the elevators, arms crossed, Jiheon waited and grinned.
“Hoyun, you’re still not dead.”
“What, my style?”
“No—your temper.”
I laughed quietly, waved him off, and ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ got into the elevator. As my manager’s scolding droned in the background, I turned on my phone. A flood of messages had already arrived.
[Little bro: Gross lol]
That bastard.
[Little bro: But yeah, let’s spend it together]
[Little bro: Let’s get something good to eat too]
Ding—
With that cheerful sound, the elevator reached the basement. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and walked toward the parking area.
There, a small crowd of fans was waiting. Normally I’d just pass by—but tonight was especially cold, and I couldn’t help but notice.
“Just a second,” I told security, and went over, accepting letters and greeting each fan one by one.
Among them, I recognized someone who’d followed me since the Second Chance days. I was about to greet her when suddenly a blue bouquet was thrust toward me.
“Seo Hoyuuun!!”
“...Y-yes?”
Her eyes were slightly red.
I knew her well—she was always the one joking around at sign events—so seeing that expression caught me off guard.
“Hey, Seo Hoyun—don’t be scared. If you ever get lost, we’ll come find you.”
“......”
“No matter where you are, you’ll shine. We’ll definitely find you.”
The unexpected words of comfort made my eyes widen. A moment later, my delayed reply slipped out.
“...Got it.”
Then, a small, helpless laugh followed.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Not because it was funny. Just because I hadn’t expected it.
As security urged me along, I took the bouquet from her and headed for the car.
I brushed my lips lightly against the blue petals and waved broadly.
“Get home safe!”
Even after we left the hotel and merged into the dense evening traffic, I couldn’t stop smiling. The fan’s voice still echoed in my ears.
I rolled down the window and looked out. Christmas was coming soon—the distant ringing of Salvation Army bells drifted through the cold night air.
