That night, Kim Sunghyun lay on the goshiwon bed, unable to fall asleep.
“Ah, damn it. Seriously, damn it.”
He kept kicking the blanket in frustration as thoughts spun endlessly in his head. Rolling over the dusty mattress, half-cleaning the room with his body, Kim Sunghyun took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
‘I know. It’s not my fault.’
Rather than toss and turn with this strange anxiety, he wanted to go to Daepaseong and move his body instead.
He jumped up, packed his things, and left the goshiwon. He placed his duffel bag on the motorcycle seat in front and pulled his helmet down tightly.
‘I know it’s not my fault, but still...’
...Still.
Despite his tangled thoughts, the motorcycle faithfully carried him to the front of Daepaseong. Just as he turned the handle to park, something pale flickered in the sharp beam of his headlight.
It looked almost like... a ghost.
“—Kim Sunghyun.”
“Uwaaaah!!!”
He slammed the brakes, barely stopping the motorcycle, and jerked his head up.
“S-Seo, Se– Sung Jiwon?!”
Right there in the middle of the road, in front of Daepaseong, Sung Jiwon stood with his arms crossed, staring straight at him.
“Are you out of your damn mind?! Hey, what if someone hits you just standing there?!”
“......”
“What are you—”
“You.”
The words cut in like a knife.
Even as Kim Sunghyun blinked stupidly, frozen in shock, Sung Jiwon took a calm step forward and spoke in an even, quiet voice.
“Is there a reason you don’t come in the morning?”
“What?”
...What kind of nonsense is this at this hour?
It made no sense, but Sung Jiwon asked again, his voice soft and patient.
“Is there a reason?”
...That shining gaze clearly said he wouldn’t move until he got an answer. So Sunghyun forced himself to stay composed and replied.
“...I... uh, I work part-time in the morning.”
“Part-time?”
“...Delivery.”
Sung Jiwon’s eyes slowly lowered.
His gaze landed on the helmet in Sunghyun’s hand. His lips moved faintly.
“...I see.”
“...Yeah...”
Was it over?
“...I bought a speaker.”
“...??”
Apparently not.
It felt like holding a conversation with a wall. Even though he couldn’t follow the context at all, Sung Jiwon spoke casually, as if continuing a perfectly normal topic.
“A spea...ker?”
“I told management and bought it with company funds. The mirror will be installed soon too.”
“......”
“Don’t buy things like that with your own money.”
Scolded out of nowhere, Kim Sunghyun wondered, Is this really the time for that? But he kept his mouth shut.
He was scared and just wanted to get out of there.
“O...okay. Thanks.”
“......”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then...”
Even under the blinding headlights, Sung Jiwon looked straight at him, unfazed—as if the light were his natural stage.
With no reply coming, Sunghyun left, nearly crying inside.
‘He’s not... a ghost, right?’
Getting scolded about speakers after almost running him over—surely he wasn’t a ghost... right?
Either way, the best choice was to flee.
He quietly started the engine, ready to leave, when a small voice called out.
“Sunghyun.”
...Sunghyun?
He looked up. The man in front of him hesitated.
“Seven years.”
“......”
“I trained for seven years, not ten.”
Blinking, Kim Sunghyun didn’t understand what that meant.
But Sung Jiwon continued, his voice softer now.
“I never really wanted the center spot or anything...”
...Ah.
And then, a creeping, unpleasant feeling began to rise in his chest.
“Don’t tell me...”
He swallowed the words Did you hear that earlier?
But Sung Jiwon seemed to understand anyway. He lowered his eyelashes and quietly said,
“The soundproofing was bad.”
“......”
This damned place...
‘Daepaseong, seriously...’
For the first time, humiliation burned hotter than embarrassment.
Anger flared up inside him, but surprisingly, Sung Jiwon didn’t seem too bothered.
‘...What?’
...No, he almost looked like he was the one walking on eggshells.
Only then did Sunghyun look him over quietly. It was already three in the morning.
The night air was still cold, yet Jiwon’s clothes were thin, his fingers red from the chill. His wind-tousled hair suggested he’d been standing out here for quite a while.
‘...Don’t tell me he was waiting?’
He waited until I came back?
...Just to say that one thing?
Stunned, Sunghyun looked him up and down, then removed his helmet and held it in his hands.
“Well...”
It seemed like they needed to talk.
“I’m sorry for overhearing you.”
“......”
“It was my mistake.”
I don’t know your full story, but I get that you must’ve felt awful... He took a breath and went on.
“I hope you can understand why I couldn’t come in the morning. I have to earn my own living expenses. But I’ll try to make more time from now on.”
“...?”
Sung Jiwon looked at him with wide eyes. His expression shifted, slowly softening bit by bit.
Encouraged, Sunghyun went on with what had been weighing on him.
“...You know, I want to get along with you.”
“......”
“I want us to debut together.”
You’re cool. So mature, it’s hard to believe we’re the same age.
“So...”
He hesitated, clutching his helmet tighter.
“...Let’s share the practice room.”
“......”
“...If you’re okay with that.”
Before the answer ‘How dare you’ could come back, Sunghyun hastily put his helmet on.
“If we’re done talking, I’ll just—ahh!!”
A pale hand grabbed the handlebar, and he screamed.
Startled, he looked up—and saw Sung Jiwon smiling, eyes curved gently.
“Wow...”
“......”
“You really are one rare kind of person.”
...That wasn’t an insult, right?
Flustered, Sunghyun averted his eyes. Jiwon released the handle and tapped the helmet with a knuckle.
“Leave that. Let’s go eat.”
It was three in the morning.
He wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to go, but before he could answer, Sung Jiwon had already started dragging him along.
So, Kim Sunghyun found himself sitting awkwardly across from him in a 24-hour fast-food place.
Sung Jiwon stared at him in silence, which was terrifying. But when he finally spoke after placing their order—
“Sorry for everything until now.”
—it was unexpected.
“...Uh, y-yeah.”
“Will you accept my apology?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Thanks.”
...So there ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ really are people like this.
The mental whiplash from his hot-and-cold behavior left Sunghyun dizzy. Maybe this was the true taste of Seoul. He glanced at Jiwon, who somehow looked lighter now, as if a weight had lifted.
“But...”
“Mm.”
“Didn’t it bother you? Hearing that stuff?”
“Mm.”
Jiwon stirred his coffee.
“It’d be a lie to say it didn’t hurt... but you got angry for me, didn’t you?”
“......”
And then he smiled faintly.
“You were cool.”
...Sunghyun was too stunned to speak, while Jiwon just chuckled and started eating.
After that, Jiwon never explained which parts of the “rumors” were true. Still, the fact that he’d left a company after seven years of training meant something must have happened. But Sunghyun didn’t ask.
There was no point digging it up, and he didn’t want to anyway.
Jiwon picked up a french fry and chewed thoughtfully.
“I’ll definitely debut. Someone helped me once.”
“...Someone helped you?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t have a contact or even know who they were—but he wiped the oil from his fingertips and said quietly,
“When I debut, I’ll find them again.”
“......”
“And I’ll make sure to say thank you.”
...Wow.
That’s... cool.
‘Feels like something out of a drama.’
He really might make it.
Daepaseong had no professional trainers, no structured curriculum. The company barely supported them at all.
Yet whenever music played, Sung Jiwon hit every pitch perfectly, and even through an old, buzzing speaker, he danced cleaner than anyone.
So, even though Kim Sunghyun didn’t know any other trainees—
“...You’re definitely going to make it.”
—he thought if anyone could, it’d be him.
Jiwon slowly lifted his eyes and smiled faintly.
“We’re going to make it together.”
...He’s a little scary sometimes, but he’s a good guy.
‘Glad I didn’t believe the rumors.’
Sunghyun stuffed a fry in his mouth and mumbled,
“...But, people really say whatever they want. They exaggerate stuff too.”
“Hm?”
“Like... the glass window thing.”
“Oh.”
Jiwon sipped his coffee, tilted his head, and said lazily,
“That one’s true.”
“......”
Swallowing hard, Kim Sunghyun made a mental note.
...Stay out of trouble.
.
.
.
“—We’re here. Mm, we have to go up the hill a bit.”
In the dark car, Kim Sunghyun sat in the passenger seat.
He blinked at the window. Outside was pitch black except for a few distant greenhouse lights.
“I think the CEO’s here.”
Where are we?
His eyelashes trembled as he glanced at the navigation. Then he realized—
It was the place where Daepaseong’s old employees had said the CEO had gone after quitting, the one they’d tracked down before the re-contract meeting.
“—Yeah. I’ll head back carefully.”
As he woke, trying to recall the fading fragments of a dream, Jiwon—who had just hung up a call labeled “Hoyun”—tapped his shoulder with a smile.
“Sunghyun, you awake?”
“Ugh...”
“Bad dream? You kept saying sorry.”
Half-opening his eyes, Sunghyun turned his head.
There was Sung Jiwon, staring at him curiously—the very person who’d haunted his nightmare.
At twenty-seven, his face looked both familiar and strange: gentle features, yet somehow a little eerie.
“...Hmph.”
He shrank a bit, and Jiwon smiled teasingly, eyes curving.
“Sunghyun. You’re tired, but once we get back to Seoul...”
“......”
“Want to practice right away?”
...Whether twenty-one or twenty-seven, Sung Jiwon was the same as ever.
“...Can I cry?”
“Hahaha.”
He took out his phone, typing lightly, looking even more cheerful than usual.
His smooth hair, the small mole on his nose, the calm eyes, those slender fingers—before he knew it, the words slipped out.
“...Sung Jiwon.”
“Yeah?”
“That person from before...”
Jiwon turned toward him.
“...Did you ever tell them thank you?”
It was a question asked half-asleep, and he immediately regretted it.
Would Jiwon ask what he meant?
It was sudden, out of nowhere, about something buried in the past.
“Ah...”
But Jiwon didn’t ask.
He simply looked at him for a moment with wide eyes, then smiled softly and leaned his cheek against the steering wheel.
“Yeah.”
And in a small voice, he whispered,
“I did.”
