“...Clingy?”
“Haa...”
Kim Sunghyun didn’t know what had just happened. Frozen in place, speechless, he could only stare as Sung Jiwon rubbed his forehead with his index finger, as if confirming something.
“Here or there...”
“......”
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Don’t beat around the bush.”
He had only talked to him out of friendliness.
All he’d wanted to say was, let’s get along.
Sung Jiwon gazed at him quietly, as if waiting for an answer. But Kim Sunghyun had no idea what he’d done wrong, so he couldn’t find any words.
So—
“...Uh.”
Trying to recall their conversation, he stammered.
“...Did you not like the practice room?”
“......”
“Sh-should I ask them to replace the mirrors?”
He couldn’t deny it was embarrassing.
Unaware that Jiwon’s gaze had grown colder, Sunghyun glanced deeper into the room.
“Or maybe the speakers—”
He’d meant to say he was planning to buy new speakers himself with his part-time earnings when—
Bang.
The practice room door slammed shut.
Slowly turning his head, Sunghyun blinked.
“...Should I still get them?”
Did I just...
get ignored?
***
“Here’s your takeout!”
“Yes, thank you!”
As always, Kim Sunghyun’s day started with deliveries.
“Phew.”
After finishing his rounds around nearby offices, he parked his motorbike and sighed, pulling off his helmet. Running around under the blazing sun with that thing on had his entire body overheated. Brushing back his sweat-damp hair, he checked the last delivery call of the day.
He’d nearly hit his target quota for the day, and it was almost five o’clock—time to head to the practice room.
“...I don’t wanna go.”
He meant it.
The strange tension between him and Sung Jiwon had been going on for two weeks.
After their first meeting, he’d thought maybe he could clear up the misunderstanding the next day. But the moment he’d seen Jiwon again, that plan had died instantly.
“...E-excuse me, I’ll just pass by.”
Because the air around Sung Jiwon was freezing.
It was the kind of atmosphere that said, Don’t talk to me. Get out of my sight.
And the next day too—
“I’ll clean up a bit here...”
“......”
“Can I play some music?”
“Do it.”
Couldn’t... breathe.
It wasn’t like Jiwon ignored him completely—he answered—but every word was clipped, cold. Whenever Sunghyun tried to talk, all he got were one-word replies followed by that silent, sharp stare that felt like being dissected.
Two weeks of that—two weeks of mutual silence (well, mostly one-sided).
Tapping his helmet, Sunghyun let out another sigh.
‘I guess he really, really hates me.’
But he had no idea why.
“...I should talk to him.”
He muttered helplessly, when his phone buzzed.
[Brat #2: You okay, oppa?]
After hesitating a while, he texted back:
[Me: Yeah]
[Brat #2: ;; You’re not okay, come home]
[Brat #1: lol dad says he’ll grill Hanwoo if you come back]
[Brat #2: haha we just want the beef actually]
“Sobs...”
I wanna go home.
His siblings were being ridiculous as always, but he bit back his homesickness and texted only, Eat first, it’s okay, followed by a sigh.
[Brat #2: Really? The youngest says she misses you]
Me too.
But he knew.
He’d come all the way to Seoul with a dream—if he gave up now, he’d leave with nothing.
Clenching his jaw, Sunghyun accepted one last delivery. The destination was in an area packed with entertainment companies.
He picked up the order, entered the building with permission, and completed the drop-off. When he checked the time, it was already past five.
He stepped into the elevator to catch his breath—and froze as he looked out the glass wall.
“...Oh.”
Across the street, a massive D.go logo gleamed on a high-rise.
Beneath it, a huge digital billboard was showing an idol group’s debut stage.
‘That’s Today.’
D.go’s ambitious new boy group—off to a strong start.
He’d seen them a few times while monitoring music shows. They were... fine. Not bad, but nothing awe-inspiring.
Stepping out of the elevator and climbing onto his motorbike, Sunghyun felt oddly indifferent. From what he’d seen, Sung Jiwon’s skill was far beyond theirs.
‘He must know them.’
Most of the members looked around his age. If Jiwon had trained at D.go for ten years, he’d definitely known them.
Leaving behind such a familiar place to start over somewhere new... that had to be hard.
‘Mom said... be kind to him.’
Her message echoed in his head.
He might have trouble adjusting, so be warm to him.
Remembering how Jiwon still came to practice every day, Sunghyun tilted his head.
“...Hmm.”
All right.
I’ll go talk to him.
He drove straight to Daepaseong, scanned his ID at the door, and went down to the practice room.
There he was—the second trainee of Daepaseong.
“H-hi...”
His voice came out like a squeak only ants could hear. He quickly slipped inside.
Jiwon was already drenched in sweat—he’d been practicing for hours.
“Uh, hey.”
“......”
Now.
Now’s the moment, Sunghyun!
‘I rehearsed what to say.’
I think we got off on the wrong foot. I really respect you. Seeing how hard you work motivates me. Let’s do our best together and debut as a team—
“......”
But those pale eyes were fixed directly on him.
Nervous, he blurted out—
“You’re good at practicing?”
“......”
“......”
“......”
He was doomed.
‘Dead. I’m dead...’
He’d just flipped the self-destruct switch.
Wasn’t that the exact wrong thing to say?! He could practically feel the temperature drop.
Before he could even stammer an apology—
“Oh?”
Jiwon tilted his lips upward.
It was a beautiful smile. Anyone else would’ve thought it gentle.
“Thanks, then.”
“......”
...But his eyes weren’t smiling.
Sunghyun bobbed his head quickly, grabbed his duffle bag, and bolted outside.
Leaning against the wall, he tried to calm his pounding heart.
‘He’s terrifying!’
He’d never met anyone like this before.
If Jiwon had picked a fight openly, Sunghyun could’ve pushed back—but he didn’t. Instead, it felt like he was calculating something.
Calculating what?
‘The perfect moment to kill me...’
That was exactly how it felt.
If he slipped up even once, Sung Jiwon would tear him apart bone by bone.
“Damn it, where am I supposed to practice today...”
Sighing, he pulled out his phone, ready to look up a rentable studio—when—
“—About the new trainee.”
A quiet conversation drifted from the management office nearby.
“Oh, Jiwon?”
“Yeah. I was drinking with an old industry friend and found out... apparently, there’s a reason he left D.go.”
What?
Sunghyun instantly ducked behind the wall. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but Daepaseong was too cramped—he’d be seen if he walked by.
Peeking around the corner, he saw two managers chatting.
“They said he was a total troublemaker.”
What?
“They were about to debut him, but he threw a fit saying /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ he wouldn’t do it unless he was center.”
“Really? He doesn’t look like that type.”
“I know, right? They said the managers had a hell of a time trying to convince him. There was an argument, and the next morning, when they went to calm him down—”
He shouldn’t be listening to this. He really shouldn’t.
“The entire practice room’s glass windows were shattered.”
He... broke all the windows?
“They think he did it. Honestly, maybe we shouldn’t have taken him—”
Startled, Sunghyun flinched, and his duffle bag slipped to the floor with a thud. The room went silent. A rustle—then a manager poked his head out, eyes meeting his.
“Oh, Sunghyun.”
It was the one who’d always been kind to him—the same guy who’d once told him not to lose hope, that Daepaseong was finally starting an idol division.
Bowing awkwardly, Sunghyun stood frozen. The man looked conflicted before asking,
“How’s practice?”
“...Fine.”
“And the new guy?”
“...Fine.”
He left out the part about feeling like he might die any day now.
The manager raised an eyebrow, sensing something.
“...You heard that, huh?”
He nodded.
The man sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Just forget it, okay? You two have to work together. It might make things awkward if—”
But what bothered Sunghyun was something else entirely.
“...That rumor.”
He fiddled with his fingers.
“You didn’t see it yourself, right? You just heard it from someone.”
“Hmm? Yeah.”
Then Sunghyun lifted his gaze and said quietly,
“Then I’m not gonna believe it.”
“......”
“...He might have his own reasons.”
Rumors spread too easily—and lies were hard to separate from truth.
Back in high school, he’d learned that lesson painfully well.
Even though some people had believed in him, plenty of others had turned their backs and pointed fingers.
He’d known he was right, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
So he’d promised himself: he’d never believe gossip.
“And...”
And above all—
“...If you can’t say it to someone’s face, don’t say it behind their back.”
He wanted to get along with the guy.
“I want to debut with him.”
Leaving the dumbfounded manager behind, he bowed and walked out.
He put on his helmet, started the engine, and sighed as he drove away.
Maybe he’d been too blunt—but what really weighed on him was Sung Jiwon.
‘He must’ve had a hard time at his old company.’
Then all the things he’d said before... probably sounded like mockery.
‘So yeah... it was my fault.’
Scratching his head, Sunghyun kicked the bike into motion.
The cool wind slashed against his skin, but it didn’t clear his mood.
Riding through downtown Seoul, he watched people rushing everywhere, every one of them with somewhere to be.
It felt suffocating.
Sometimes, it felt like everyone else was moving forward while he stayed still.
There were moments he’d just stare blankly at the dust swirling under sunlight, or lie awake with indigestion after forcing down another meal—when a heavy emotion would well up from nowhere.
But time, as always, moved on.
And now, here he was, right in the middle of Seoul.
When the light turned red, Sunghyun stopped and looked up. The same billboard he’d seen earlier was playing again.
Smiling brightly, the new idols of D.go shone on-screen.
And he thought of Sung Jiwon, standing alone in that dim, windowless basement practice room.
No lights. No audience. Just that quiet, unwavering gaze.
And suddenly, Kim Sunghyun wondered—
Was he lonely?
Because he had been.
