Joo Woosung avoided my eyes and brushed his hair back.
...He was right. I didn’t want anyone to see that video. That was exactly why I’d stuffed the USB into a cigarette pack and came all the way here, even though running around like this right after leaving the hospital was a stupid idea. I wasn’t here to lecture someone who hadn’t answered my calls—I was here to make sure that thing was gone for good.
Still.
‘That’s unexpected.’
Honestly, I’d assumed he’d already seen everything. I thought he’d learned the truth and started avoiding me because of it—but apparently not.
He wasn’t the type to lie, but if it were anyone else, curiosity alone would’ve made them watch it to the end.
I kept my tone casual.
“Had lunch?”
“Yeah.”
“Dessert, then?”
“I don’t eat dessert.”
Oh, really?
As I dragged out the meaningless small talk, I studied him carefully. Woosung, still a bit awkward, clearly didn’t appreciate me steering the conversation in another direction as if nothing had happened.
He didn’t want to ignore it—but he didn’t know how to bring it up either.
‘What should I do....’
I didn’t really feel like explaining everything. There was always the risk of triggering another system error, and besides, to me, all of it was already an expired story.
And the person in front of me—well, he’d always been wary of the PD version of me. He’d treated me like some ratings-obsessed demon, flinching every time we crossed paths in the broadcasting hallway.
Was he still afraid of me?
“Pfft.”
I burst out laughing. Woosung looked at me, confused.
It was funny that I’d even wondered. The answer was obvious.
Seriously, how did we end up like this...?
At first, I only meant to use this gullible fool for a little while. That was all.
I clenched the USB in my hand, then loosened my grip, and shoved it deep into my pocket. My eyes traveled slowly over Woosung.
“...I could tell you what was on the video,” I said lightly, “but I don’t see the point.”
His eyebrows tensed slightly. His lips pressed together. His pale eyes fixed not on the USB—but on me.
“I’m still the same guy you know, Woosung. And honestly... I like things the way they are.”
He was worried about me.
“I’m an idol,” I said quietly.
“......”
“One who really, really wants to sign with your label.”
I grinned. His expression twitched into a grimace.
But maybe he was relieved, even just a little, because the tension in his shoulders finally eased. He looked down slowly.
“...Hey.”
“Yes?”
“...Wanna eat?”
“Didn’t you say you already did?”
“That was my polite way of saying I didn’t want to eat with you.”
“Do you now?”
“Yeah.”
Then, without further comment, he scooped up his cat and opened the delivery app, scrolling for something to order.
You’re really something else.
I almost said it out loud but decided to let it go. I sat down on the couch beside him. He got scratched by his own cat and grumbled, settling next to me.
Sunlight slipped through the blackout curtains, gleaming faintly off his hair.
Watching him quietly, I found myself full of questions.
‘...So, that’s it? It just ends like this?’
Just like that, forgiven?
After all the hell I put him through?
The same Joo Woosung who prided himself on keeping work and personal life strictly separate had even posted the edited video I made on his own social media account—voluntarily. He’d taken the hit from his fans, stayed steady through all the criticism.
I recalled that and said carefully,
“Woosung. You ignored my calls for weeks, but now you’ve forgiven me already? I was prepared to get slapped, you know.”
“If you want one.”
“I’m sorry.”
He said it so flatly that I couldn’t even tell if he was joking. When I blinked, he ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) let out a faint laugh, almost losing interest.
“Well... I wasn’t sure what kind of bomb you’d drop next. And I figured if I saw you, you’d just be annoying, so I didn’t answer. But...”
“But?”
“Seeing you in person, I’m not that mad anymore. Still shocked and irritated, yeah, but...”
I stared at him, surprised at how much he’d mellowed. Woosung rested his chin on his hand and added,
“You came back, didn’t you?”
“......”
“That’s enough.”
Sometimes I really don’t know what to say.
***
[Me: wya]
[Jung Dajun: Hyung we’re heading back to the hotel soon]
[Jung Dajun: Ichae-hyung and I got lost in the square lol]
[Jung Dajun: Prague is insane it’s so pretty]
[Jung Dajun: But don’t worry!! I didn’t forget you hyung!!! Bought hot chocolate just for you haha proof coming up~]
I opened the window, and the Vltava River glittered under the afternoon sun. I squinted against the light and checked my phone.
[Jung Dajun: Proof canceled~~ spilled a little on the ground sorry hehe]
[Kim Sunghyun: Found the runaways, heading back together]
When we arrived in Prague, I’d offhandedly said I wanted hot chocolate, and Dajun had sprinted off downtown the moment we reached the hotel.
Bundled up beside the heater, I soaked in the winter sunlight. Despite it being mid-February, it was surprisingly bright.
I was tired, but I hadn’t yet finished reading all the letters the fans—Noeul—had sent to the company.
[At this point I know more about red ginseng than most pharmacists... WH refusing fan gifts is a tragedy.]
[If you overwork again this comeback, I’ll come after you with a slipper in front of WH HQ.]
Since waking up, my days had been simple: watch the reply videos Noeul posted, fall asleep, wake up, read handwritten letters. A full-time bum living off fan love.
Despite their wishes for me to rest, I couldn’t. I wanted to see them again—and to survive, I needed to work.
Though the controversy hadn’t fully died down, the company decided it was too early for public appearances. They’d allow messaging the fans but not showing my face yet.
When Lee Jihyun suggested we release a fan song before an official comeback, Kang Ichae—of all people—got fired up and quickly wrote a new track.
The problem was—
“‘It’s a song best heard while standing in the snow of a foreign land...’”
So here we were. In the Czech Republic.
Honestly, I think he just wanted a vacation.
Still, the company reasoned that filming overseas would be easier, given the chaos we caused everywhere in Korea, and shipped us off in record time.
[Have fun with the members!]
Of course, even here, Kang Ichae was still cold as ice toward me.
‘Is he doing a vow of silence or something?’
I clicked my tongue and scrolled down.
[P.S.
Hoyun-ah. T_T I have a request.]
What now?
[When you do the next PopPop, can you just write ♡ this phrase once? Please?]
I typed immediately.
[Miss you, Noeul♡]
The fans would love it.
Just thinking about it made me smile... until the replies came.
[Why would you suddenly say that while we’re eating???]
[How do I block Seo Hoyun]
[Hoyun-ah... you smell like soju]
[lol ok]
[That heart gave me chills;;]
“...What the hell...”
Why this reaction.
I added, Fine, forget it then, and was instantly flooded with apologies and panicked pleas. Too late. The damage was done.
The doorbell rang. When I opened it, Sung Jiwon stood there with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.
“Hoyun! We don’t have a schedule today, wanna go out for a bit?”
“The others?”
“They’re already out~!”
Brushing snow off his shoulders, Jiwon pulled me toward the window. Looking down, I saw the three of them in the hotel garden, squabbling their way toward the old town.
When Dajun noticed me watching, he jumped up and waved frantically.
“Wow. Look at that energy...”
“Haha.”
I was about ready to pass out.
The sky had clouded over again, the cold was creeping in, and every bone in my body ached. I just wanted to stay inside and read more letters—but then the guy in the black coat down below tilted his head up.
For a moment, our eyes met.
“...Cold out there?” I asked.
Jiwon said the temperature would drop quickly after sunset, so I threw on a long padded coat, scarf, and gloves before heading down.
As soon as I stepped outside, Dajun came sprinting toward me, shouting,
“Ah~~!! Mr. Hoyun! Here’s your hot chocolate delivery! But I realized something—this hot chocolate here... it’s really...”
“......”
“Not that sweet at all!! My God! For someone like you, who doesn’t consider it a drink unless it has ten pumps of syrup, this is a tragedy!”
“What the hell foreign drama did you watch on the plane?”
Still speaking in weird translated English, Dajun chattered endlessly as I took the half-spilled, lukewarm hot chocolate and sipped it.
While Sunghyun scolded him for running with a drink, Kang Ichae ignored me completely, keeping that same chilly distance.
We strolled through the old town, exploring little alleys and street stalls.
After eating at a restaurant, we greeted tourists asking for autographs and continued to the market square, where I bought an ugly wooden doll for Hojin as a souvenir.
As dusk fell, we headed toward the castle by the river, crossing an old bridge. Sunghyun was holding the guidebook when he spoke up.
“Oh, right. The local guide said there are statues on this bridge where you can make wishes—”
“Emergency!!”
“Hey! Don’t dump all the souvenirs on me again!!”
Before he could even finish, Ichae and Dajun bolted ahead. Without knowing a thing, they grabbed random locals to ask questions, then ran to the railing and began chanting something with both hands pressed against it.
“Those idiots...”
“Sunghyun, go make a wish too. We’ll wait here.”
When Jiwon took the souvenirs for him, Sunghyun sighed, scratched his head, and trudged after them, smacking both of them lightly on the head when he caught up.
Like Jiwon, I had no interest in wishes. Leaning against the railing with the mountain of souvenirs, I gazed across the river. Snowflakes thickened, swirling in the wind, but the view was breathtaking.
“What are they even wishing that hard for,” I muttered.
Jiwon opened his umbrella and replied lightly,
“Well... you already know Ichae’s wish, don’t you?”
...Yeah. I knew.
No matter the interview, the joke, or the buried time capsule, Kang Ichae had always made the same wish.
But to the other members—to me, the one practically branded a sinner—I couldn’t find words to answer. Jiwon came closer, tilting the umbrella toward me with a smile.
“Hoyun, be nicer to Ichae.”
“...Hey. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose.”
He keeps running away from me.
I protested weakly, but Jiwon pretended not to hear, drawing patterns in the snow on the railing with his finger before blowing on his reddened hands.
“Well... I get that you two haven’t talked properly in a while. You needed rest, and he needed space. Ah, Hoyun. We’ll still keep performing together, right?”
“...Of course?”
“Thank God! You were talking like you didn’t plan to be around tomorrow, so I got worried...”
A strange sense of unease stirred in my chest.
“Also... maybe you should quit smoking. I mean, I used to think it looked kinda cool—reminded me of your PD days—but you’re an idol now, and it’s bad for your health...”
“...What?”
“Hm?”
We stared at each other in confusion.
I’d quit the moment I got back—went through hell for it. But more importantly—
“Wait. What did you just say?”
“...Hold on. Don’t tell me... I’ve been misunderstanding this whole time? I thought we’d just silently agreed after my birthday—”
I looked at the flustered, rambling Jiwon and asked quietly,
“You... know who I am?”
“......”
His ears turned red. After a long pause, he muttered, barely audible,
“Of course I do......”
