“Phew.”
With his gray hoodie pulled low, twenty-one-year-old Kim Sunghyun stood staring at a small, shabby building tucked in the corner of Seoul.
A faded sign over the entrance read, “DAEPASUNG.”
“...I’m nervous.”
After dropping out of high school, Kim Sunghyun had wandered aimlessly, lost in a fog of anxiety. But doing nothing never led anywhere, so he’d taken the GED and worked part-time jobs whenever he could.
Then one day, at a local dance competition, he’d been handed a single business card from an entertainment agency by chance.
That single card had been enough to make Kim Sunghyun, who had no connections in Seoul, pack one small suitcase and leave his hometown.
He came to Seoul.
With a dream.
“...Why’s everyone so busy here?”
People called this place a cold, gray city, yet when Kim Sunghyun finally set foot here, his heart pounded with excitement.
Sure, compared to his quiet hometown, the fine dust was terrible and the sky was all gray.
But the towering buildings, the Han River glittering in sunlight, the people hurrying by with phones pressed to their ears—everything felt new and thrilling.
And there he was, standing among them with nothing but a small suitcase of clothes and essentials.
This was the place where he would live now.
‘It’s scary...’
But there was something he wanted badly enough to leave everything behind.
‘I... want to become an idol.’
The stars he’d seen in videos had shone so brightly.
In the sweaty practice room of his dance crew, the videos his seniors had shown him of idols performing had burned into his heart.
‘Like Joo Woosung.’
Black Call, the idol group WH had launched with high hopes, had taken Korea by storm—and Joo Woosung was the most dazzling of them all.
Wherever he stood, he shone.
Whatever he danced, it was powerful and commanding, yet his easy smile made it look effortless. That image had carved itself deep into Kim Sunghyun’s chest.
Some would call it a foolish dream, but... he wanted to become like Joo Woosung too.
So he smiled, dimples deepening.
“Let’s do this.”
Daepaseong felt promising somehow.
***
He was wrong.
“......”
A week later, lying face down on the cold basement floor, Kim Sunghyun muttered miserably into the dust.
“...I want to cry.”
Daepaseong was a mess.
He wasn’t stupid, just naïve—and he realized it on his very first day.
When he’d knocked on the door with his suitcase beside him, a man with heavy dark circles had opened it and blinked. “Huh? You said you were cast? Already signed the contract...?”
Baffled, he’d just been told to come in and wait. Sitting quietly, he’d listened to the staff whispering behind him.
“Ah, must be the one that person who quit brought in.”
“Geez... couldn’t they at least do a handover before leaving?”
“They had a huge fight with the CEO, no way they did.”
And he understood immediately.
Apparently, Daepaseong’s only casting director had quit after a big blow-up with the CEO.
‘He said the CEO was a good guy when he gave me that card...’
When the management staff looked up from his business card, they eyed him up and down like they were evaluating a mystery animal.
“Hmmm...”
After a long pause, the man finally said, “Wait here a bit.” Then, half an hour later, he came back with a contract.
“We’ve still got the contract that guy made. It’s a trainee contract—short term, not much obligation on your end. You can terminate it anytime.”
“......”
“You can come practice here for now. I’ll check in with the CEO.”
It looked like he was trying to be helpful.
Drained and disoriented, Kim Sunghyun accepted the offer. He couldn’t afford to look for another company yet—he was living in a tiny goshiwon until he found a new place.
The staff member gave him a pitying look. “Well... the contract’s not that bad, so feel free to look around for other agencies. We mostly handle actors, but we’re planning to make idols soon... choice is yours.”
That had been a week ago. Now, lying on the basement floor, Kim Sunghyun took a deep breath.
“...Haaah.”
Turning over, he stared at the ceiling—stained and cracked where water must’ve leaked.
‘This basement looks like it used to be a storage room.’
Cheap mirrors slapped together from small panels, a broken air conditioner, cracked walls—
Everything screamed “disaster.”
‘This... is Seoul?’
Or maybe this was just Daepaseong.
Wasn’t it a bad sign that he was the first and only trainee?
A sharp thought—but he wasn’t ready to give up. He shook his head hard and sat up straight.
‘...Still, I’ll start with what I can!’
He’d come all the way to Seoul; he didn’t want his story to end with failure.
And besides—
“I made up my mind.”
He hated people who said, “It was impossible anyway,” without even trying.
No one in Daepaseong paid him any attention, but every day he still showed up to the practice room.
He ate breakfast at the goshiwon, ran for an hour by the river, and worked delivery or warehouse jobs for flexible hours. Every other day, he drove a shuttle van for an academy and watched dance videos during breaks.
By late afternoon, he’d scan his Daepaseong ID and practice alone until dawn—no teacher, no peers.
His body ached, but it felt worth it.
‘As long as I’ve got a place to sleep, that’s enough.’
Slowly, he grew attached to Daepaseong. He greeted every staff member he saw politely.
A month passed like that.
“Sunghyun, come here a sec.”
He was called to the management office.
Wiping sweat with a towel, he looked up in surprise.
“—What?! A new trainee’s joining?”
“Yeah.”
The manager nodded briefly.
“Apparently, he was at D.go before.”
“D.go?!”
That was one of the top three agencies in Korea.
Smaller than WH or LV Entertainment, sure, but famous for its elite system—every idol they debuted hit big.
“He trained there for ten years, I heard. He’s even got some recognition.”
“Ten years?!”
“...You look really happy, Sunghyun.”
Why would someone who trained ten years at D.go come to Daepaseong?
The manager gave him a sympathetic look and sighed.
“His name’s Sung Jiwon. He’ll be here tomorrow. I’ll introduce you.”
And D.go was famous for its solid training programs!
‘I really did the right thing staying at Daepaseong!’
If the new guy had trained there, maybe he could teach him systematically.
And someone who’d held on for ten years must have real persistence—like him.
When Sunghyun thanked the manager with a smile, the man discreetly wiped his eyes.
“Sunghyun...”
“Yes!!”
“...Seeing you makes me ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ want to try harder at life too.”
Touched by his dedication after a month of coming every day, the manager patted his shoulder. “We’ll have more family soon.”
Sunghyun nodded eagerly and rushed back to the practice room.
“Ah, this is great!!”
Too excited, he paced around the room. He was even planning how to introduce Daepaseong properly when his phone buzzed.
[Brat #1: You doing okay, oppa?]
It was a message from his sister.
He hadn’t told his family about his struggles, but this was good news—he could share it!
[Me: Yeah lol another trainee’s joining]
[Me: From a big company!]
Ding!
[Brat #1: Now he’ll make you fetch his water]
[Brat #2: Finally, you’re tasting Seoul life lol]
Those little brats.
Good thing the youngest wasn’t in the group chat yet. With four siblings, it was always chaos—and this was not something the kid should learn.
Frowning, Sunghyun used his duffle bag as a pillow and lay down.
‘...Wait, what if we don’t get along?’
That would be tough. With only two trainees, it’d be impossible to avoid each other.
Then another text arrived.
[Mom: Son~ hehe, be nice to him, okay?]
[Mom: He might have trouble adjusting]
...She’s right.
That could happen.
‘Yeah, he’s probably nervous too, like I was.’
A long-time trainee would have a lot to teach—and there was a good chance they’d debut together.
Feeling a warm excitement, he replied, Sure thing, grinning to himself.
That night, he stayed in the practice room until morning, dragging his tired body back to the goshiwon. After a short nap, he went out for another part-time job.
He was exhausted, but the good news kept him energized.
“Morning, Sunghyun~.”
“Hello!”
Greeting everyone cheerfully, he hurried down the stairs to the practice room.
And froze.
“...Oh.”
A boy was standing in front of the practice room, arms crossed, gazing silently inside.
He looked just past the edge of boyhood—brown hair gleaming softly, skin spotless and smooth, a small mole resting neatly on his nose. His posture was straight, and a quiet stillness surrounded him.
He looked like someone who was born to be an idol.
‘That must be him.’
The one who’d trained at D.go for ten years.
Sunghyun’s heart pounded. Hugging his duffle bag tightly to his chest, he stepped up beside the boy and spoke carefully.
“Uh... hi.”
“......”
Sung Jiwon turned his gaze toward him silently.
“You’re... Sung Jiwon, right? I’m a trainee here. My name’s Kim Sunghyun.”
No reaction. No hint of expression. Sunghyun scratched his head awkwardly.
‘Hmm, he’s quieter than I thought.’
Was he nervous?
No, more than nervous—he gave off a cold aura.
After a moment, Jiwon lowered his eyes slightly and gave a small nod. Taking that as a sign, Sunghyun continued.
“I heard a lot about you.”
“...About me?”
“Yeah. You trained at D.go for over ten years, right?”
“......”
Jiwon’s expression instantly froze.
Only then did Sunghyun realize something was off.
‘...What’s with that look?’
D-did that sound like I was being condescending?
He just wanted to get along, but apologizing now might make things weirder. So he tried to lighten the mood with a compliment.
“Oh, they said you were famous at D.go.”
“...Famous there?”
“...Yeah.”
The manager and the CEO had both said he was impressive, but—
“Yeah, really impressive.”
But Jiwon’s face only grew colder.
Not knowing why, Sunghyun quickly changed the subject.
“—Let me show you around. I was the first trainee here... and you’re the second.”
He pushed the door open, revealing the crooked mirrors and uneven floors. The place looked even more pitiful next to someone from a big, polished agency. He felt embarrassed, but... this was where they’d have to build everything together now.
“...The mirrors are kind of bad.”
“......”
“I know it’s not like the company you used to be at, and maybe this room isn’t great, but let’s work hard together.”
He smiled awkwardly and held out his hand.
“We’ll debut for sure.”
But Sung Jiwon didn’t take his hand.
Blinking, Sunghyun looked up at him. Jiwon lowered his long lashes and curved his lips into a faint smile.
‘...Wow.’
Even his smile looked straight out of a music video.
As Sunghyun was thinking that—
“...I have a question.”
With a gentle smile that could’ve belonged to an angel, Sung Jiwon asked,
“Why are you acting so clingy?”
