“Seo Hoyun’s dead.”
Amid the bustle of a movie set, a Hallyu star slumped in exhaustion. With his long legs stretched out and a script covering his face, he was half-lying in his chair when the unexpected news reached him.
“What?”
The nearby staff stirred.
Some drew in sharp breaths; others sighed with pity.
The man, weary from the ongoing shoot, turned his head and dropped the script with a soft thud onto the floor.
“—Mr. Min Jiheon, are you alright?”
“Ah, yes....”
At that, Min Jiheon forced a smile and waved his hand weakly. He didn’t bother to pick up the fallen script, instead quietly scanning the staff around him.
Unaware of his gaze, the staff whispered among themselves, their faces full of shock.
“How did that even happen? Seo Hoyun looked totally fine last time!”
“What? Have you been living in a cave? You seriously didn’t know?”
“I was at a temple for a few months.”
“...I see.”
The staff clicked their tongue.
“Such a shame... he was really popular. I cried so much when it happened.”
“I–I didn’t see it....”
“It was total chaos back then. People kept shouting to bring him back. I’m not kidding, every time I went outside, The Dawn’s songs were playing.”
“Ah... I should look it up.”
They whispered for a while longer until they finally noticed Jiheon’s gaze, startled, bowed quickly, and stepped away.
After a moment lost in thought, Min Jiheon picked up the script and took out his phone from his pocket.
Messages flooded his screen—“Mr. Min Jiheon,” “Jiheon-ah—”—but he scrolled past them all until he found one name.
Seo Hoyun.
No profile picture, no status message. Just that name.
He ran his tongue over his lips as if nervous, then pressed down on the chat window with his thumb and scrolled.
[Me: Mr. Seo Hoyun]
Even in late winter.
[Me: I filmed today.]
When spring came.
[Me: Hoyun, the sunset is really pretty]
[Me: You’re watching too, right?]
...and still, to this day—
Not a single reply.
Min Jiheon stared at the glowing screen and blew a breath through the hair that fell over his forehead.
‘Probably won’t ever get one.’
A dull ache spread through his chest, and without realizing it, he rubbed at his eyes.
“Mr. Min Jiheon, we’re ready!” a staff member called, and he shoved the phone back into his pocket, answering, “Yes,” as he stood.
Looking up, he saw lukewarm rain sprinkling down from the filming equipment.
He took a deep breath, and when the camera light flicked on, he strode forward.
He acted before the camera, shed hot tears, laughed, whispered love.
By [N O V E L I G H T] the time he was so focused he forgot reality, two hours had passed.
“You were amazing again today, Jiheon-ssi,” the staff praised, and Jiheon smiled, wiping away the rain with a towel.
He lifted his arm, dabbing the droplets from his chin as water dripped down, then glanced again at his phone—still no reply.
‘...Still, maybe I should try.’
Who knows, right?
Even if it’s pathetic, maybe it’s worth one more try.
With pale fingers, he hesitated for a moment before typing.
[Me: I miss you]
And waited for a reply that would never come—
—Ping! Message received!
[Hoyun-hyung: 🖕]
“Oh.”
It came.
Hehe.
***
January 30.
From birth, he had possessed no mystical power whatsoever—but idol Seo Hoyun came back to life like a miracle!
[Seo Hoyun halts activities... leaves a 3-page letter saying, “Don’t worry.”]
South Korea was thrown into chaos.
The nation’s most popular idol, the one who’d just won the Grand Prize, uploaded a desperate video, received waves of support from fans, and then regained consciousness.
What could be a bigger story?
Some called it moving.
Others sneered that it was just another money-grabbing stunt by a celebrity.
But Seo Hoyun stayed silent.
Despite the storm he had caused, as spring neared, he hadn’t appeared publicly even once—except for daily fan messages posted under his name.
Still, there was one place people could see his face again on the big screen—
【Mister.】
The rerelease of Vile Trial.
In front of a courthouse, dressed in a black coat and holding a cup of steaming coffee, Seo Hoyun blew gently on it before speaking to Jang Seongsik.
【You know, I bought a plane ticket this winter. Thought I’d take a long trip somewhere far away.】
【Huh? Kang Giyeong, going on a trip?】
His face filled the fifteen-meter theater screen.
Pale skin, shadowed eyes, dark circles, and a faint, mischievous smile curving his lips.
【What’s this? You’ve never gone on a trip before.】
【Hmm.】
When Jang Seongsik gave him a look, Seo Hoyun pulled his coat tighter against the cold and smiled, his eyes folding into crescents.
【This country’s winters are too cold.】
Back on Min Jiheon’s set, the same staff member who’d cried “Seo Hoyun died in Vile Trial!!” sighed, watching that playful smile of a man about to die.
The camera panned slowly across the desk piled with files bearing the nameplate “Prosecutor Kang Giyeong.”
Seo Hoyun rifled through documents, rubbed his face dry, and let out a hollow laugh.
Muttering a quiet curse, he looked out the window.
Snow was coming down hard.
—And as time flowed, the film reached its climax.
Jang Seongsik, relentless in pursuit of the case, found traces of Seo Hoyun everywhere.
【Kang Giyeong... Giyeong, is that you?】
Inside an empty shipping container at the harbor, standing over blood-stained ground, a man waited.
Seo Hoyun adjusted his grip on the gun and tapped the barrel against the other man’s forehead.
【...Try living a little more vilely.】
His vision blurred; the corner of his lips lifted faintly.
【Time to close your eyes, Mister.】
...Then, the gunshot rang out.
Most of the audience already knew the ending, yet no one breathed. They were entirely pulled in.
Even as the credits rolled on the black screen, they sat in silence, steeped in that lingering weight.
“Wow, Seo Hoyun’s acting was insane. It’s like he became Kang Giyeong.”
“Those eyes, that voice—unreal.”
As they murmured in awe, a tall figure in a beanie, sunglasses, and a mask walked past them.
“Snrk—sob sob sob...”
...Sobbing so hard his mask was soaked through.
“Wait, that’s Jung Dajun....”
“He’s still doing the rewatch rounds?”
“Relentless. Truly relentless....”
The Billboard star’s nth viewing of Vile Trial was already legendary among both Noeul fans and film buffs.
Out of respect for the weeping idol, people gave him space.
Still crying and sniffling, Dajun removed his sunglasses, revealing swollen eyes.
“This... this is a masterpiece. Hoyun-hyung deserves an Oscar. Why hasn’t the Academy called yet?”
Other members should be doing their nth rewatch too....
Wiping his tears, Dajun opened his ride-hailing app—but someone called out to him.
“Maknae.”
“...Oh!”
He turned toward the familiar voice and saw a tall man in a navy coat and scarf waiting by the underground parking lot.
Dajun flailed his arms wildly.
“Eeeek! Hyuuung!! What are you doing here?!”
“Came to get you.”
“...Huh?”
But—how did you even know I was here?
As Kim Sunghyun strode closer, he reached out, tugged down Dajun’s sunglasses, and smiled, dimples deepening.
“Cried again?”
Dajun blinked, awed.
“Oh... whoa...”
“Oh?”
“Sunghyun-hyung... that was like episode 3, around the 47-minute mark of a really good romance drama. Though it felt kinda ten years outdated? That style’s not trendy anymore.”
“Talking nonsense means you’re alive.”
Kim Sunghyun grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the passenger seat of an old SUV.
Dajun threw off all his disguises and fastened his seatbelt, chattering nonstop.
“Wow, seeing Hoyun-hyung’s face that big on the screen—so proud! Don’t you think it’s time for his new project? When’s the next one coming out??”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Totally! Skipping practice was so worth it! Hahaha!”
Humming, Dajun gazed at the early-morning highway, then blinked when he realized they weren’t heading toward their dorm.
“...Uh, hyung?”
“What?”
“This isn’t the road to the dorm.”
“Because it’s not.”
Kim Sunghyun rested one arm by the window and spoke flatly.
“I came to catch you.”
“...”
“I asked if you had fun.”
Catch me—where to?
Still focused on the road, the leader tapped his phone twice, as if to say look.
With trembling hands, Dajun unlocked it—he knew the password.
[Me: Bring him back?]
[Sung Jiwon: Yup!]
[Sung Jiwon: iX-s 6th hall lol]
“I—I never said where I was!”
Not the location, not the time, not even that he was going to the movies!
Had they tracked him through fan posts? No—the message timestamp was before he’d gone in.
Goosebumps rising, Dajun fumbled for his own phone. A message from Kang Ichae had just come in.
[Yanga~sssh~~!!: SOS]
[Yanga~sssh~~!!: SOS!!!! T_T]
“Eek!”
Everyone knew what happened when you got caught after sneaking off.
“So?”
At the next red light, Kim Sunghyun turned his head, smiling at Dajun.
“Still feel like a drama?”
“S-scary! It’s scary! I’m scared!!”
Trapped in his own horror movie, Dajun screamed, “Let me out! Let me ouuut!!!”
But the SUV rolled steadily toward WH’s building.
Dragged into the brightly lit basement of the black corporate tower even at dawn, Dajun froze.
One rapper lay sprawled on the floor like a corpse, while a vocalist stood beside him, arms crossed, staring down coldly.
“...H-heuk.”
“Ah.”
The beautiful vocalist lifted his long lashes and opened his lips.
“Did you enjoy your little break?”
Sung Jiwon’s words meant only one thing—You’re dead.
The future flashed before Dajun’s eyes: he’d soon be corpse number two.
Still, he gathered courage and shouted—
“O-okay! I admit it! It was wrong to sneak out saying I was buying drinks! But why... why are there only four of you here?! Four! The Dawn has five! Take one away and it’s zero! Where! Is! Seo! Hoyun!!”
“...Hmm.”
Sung Jiwon’s eyes curved softly.
“Our Dajun’s so spirited.”
“...”
“Still got enough energy to yell.”
Goosebumps crawled over Dajun’s skin.
“W-wait! Wait—!”
He tried to send one last SOS, but Kim Sunghyun rolled his eyes away, and the practice room door slammed shut with a loud bang.
Dajun howled like a wounded animal.
“Hoyun-hyung, where are you! Hoyun-hyyuuuung—!”
***
No matter what happens in the world, people always find a way to keep living their daily lives.
They go to work, go to school, keep doing their jobs as usual.
But no matter how busy life gets, there are always those who never let go of the things they love most—
[My bunny, I miss you]
—The ones who loved Seo Hoyun.
