After parking her motorcycle, Lim Hyunsu lay flat on the grass without even a mat—just her helmet tossed aside. After hearing Kang Ichae’s whole explanation, she said only one thing.
“Slump? Go drink.”
Truly, that was just like her.
Kang Ichae gave an awkward smile.
“Master, I can’t drink....”
“Oh? Really? Allergy?”
No, just really weak.... He swallowed those words and glanced at her again. Under the blazing sunlight, her messy, bleached blond hair glowed brilliantly.
“Then have a burning hot love. So hot it scorches.”
“I’m an idol, though.”
“Ah, right.”
California, where she was always looking for love.
That thought suddenly came to mind, and curiosity slipped out of him.
“Composer-nim, come to think of it, why is your stage name Blue Tiger?”
It didn’t match her real name at all.
A long time ago, before their Japan debut, Jung Dajun had mentioned that Hyunsu’s first love supposedly had a blue tiger tattoo—so she took that as her stage name.
“Ah, that’s because I was obsessed with baseball back then.”
“.......”
“Why do you look like that?”
He remembered everyone marveling at that story—except Seo Hoyun, who looked disgusted.
He’d believed it for years, so he was momentarily speechless.
Hyunsu said, “Wanna go watch baseball? Might cheer you up,” and before he knew it, she was rambling about how the home run song was a god-tier banger.
“So I was thinking, Heeyoung and Jiheon, and even Woosung—maybe all of us could go together—”
Kang Ichae felt grateful.
It couldn’t have been a coincidence. In this huge country, she’d somehow found him.
But her voice gradually faded, and he sank back into thought.
Long.
This slump was particularly deep.
Just one track for the album—how hard could that be? He knew he could do it if he just tried. So why did it feel so unbearably heavy this time?
“Master.”
Before he realized it, his mouth was already moving.
“What.”
“If you could never compose again, what would you do?”
She didn’t laugh or brush it off as nonsense.
“If I couldn’t compose again....”
Hyunsu actually thought seriously for a moment, frowning slightly.
“...I’d still live fine, I guess? I’ve saved plenty.”
“If Hoyun-hyung heard that, he’d blow up.”
“That bastard ties everything back to money.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
He could already hear Hoyun’s voice in his head: Follow the scent of money. That’s your path.
As he imagined that, the light in his eyes dimmed slightly.
“Still, I’d be sad, you know.”
Hyunsu took off her sunglasses and continued.
She stretched her arm, slicing through the air gently.
“I’d be really sad. I’ve given my whole life to music. I’d regret it forever if I ever stopped out of fear—of failing, of falling short. Turning that tingling feeling in your chest into notes on paper—that’s something truly incredible.”
“......”
“Even if I’m scared, I pour everything into it.”
The blue sky reflected in her eyes.
“And when someone finally listens to it....”
Hyunsu turned, met his gaze, and smiled.
“That’s when I feel alive.”
Kang Ichae thought that her confidence, the life she’d built through sheer effort, was genuinely beautiful.
“......Master.”
“What.”
“You were really cool just now.”
“Fuck, I know. I just dropped a legendary quote, didn’t I?”
She muttered seriously, “What if I get even cooler after this,” then shook her head.
As she stood up, brushing off her knees, Ichae stared blankly. Hyunsu twirled her motorcycle key around her finger.
“I’m off to drink with some hot people.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“Nah, brat. Leaving this at the hotel and grabbing a cab.”
“You’re leaving quick.”
“You’ve got someone waiting too.”
......
Midway through tapping on her phone, Hyunsu muttered, “This kid’s really a pain in the ass,” and clicked her tongue.
Just as she was about to leave coolly, she put on her helmet, then paused and turned.
“Hey, Kang Ichae.”
“Yes?”
“You’re one ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) hell of a bastard—so cool even Lim Hyunsu would get jealous.”
Through the helmet slit, she grinned.
“I’m looking forward to the album.”
Then she hummed softly, dropped her visor, mounted the bike, and—vroooom—disappeared in a roar of sound.
Watching the bike vanish, Ichae blinked.
“...She really is cool.”
He took off the sunglasses perched on his head, lay back down on the grass, and closed his eyes.
Children’s laughter echoed nearby, and the faint hum of a passing bicycle mixed with the sea breeze.
The salty scent of the ocean floated in the air. Leaves rustled faintly, brushing against one another.
—He replayed Hyunsu’s words.
Furrowing his brows, he tried to gather the faint sounds around him when a shadow fell over him.
“What are you doing?”
That familiar low voice.
He didn’t need to open his eyes to know.
“Praying,” Ichae said lightly.
And recalled.
“May I never be fooled three times by those selfish, unlucky brothers again....”
“......”
A tongue-click beside him. Then the rustle of grass as someone sat down next to him.
“How’d you find me?”
“Where else would you go.”
“So, you ran here?”
Still skipping over nonsense as always.
But Ichae felt too good to care.
Even though he knew this man was in the wrong.
After all, the breeze was soft, he’d met his favorite mentor, and above all—today’s sunlight was beautiful.
“I ran here.”
Only then did he open his eyes.
His face looked clean, but there was dark red blood on his fingertips.
Yet instead of smelling like iron, it had a sticky-sweet scent—makeup, probably.
As if he’d rushed straight from a shoot.
Noticing Ichae’s glance, Seo Hoyun rubbed his stained fingers together lightly and said,
“......Hey.”
“What.”
“That thing I said back in Czech Republic.”
His gaze stayed fixed on Ichae.
“None of it was a lie.”
He wasn’t smiling, nor was he being playful.
He meant it.
“If you misunderstand, I’ll be offended.”
...And that’s the problem with this man.
He had a way of making even the problems themselves feel irrelevant.
Looking at the man who shamelessly insisted he hadn’t been hiding the fact that he’d die if he failed, Kang Ichae said flatly, without a hint of laughter,
“No, that’s your problem, hyung.”
“......”
“Let’s be clear. You’ve been running away for years, acting like an old man, and treating me coldly—that’s all on you.”
For fuck’s sake...—the thought was written all over his face.
But Ichae had too much pent-up frustration to stop there.
“I’m still nice to you and Hojin even after all that because I’m seriously an angel—there’s no one kinder on earth.”
“Isn’t that brainwashing?”
“Busted.”
Ichae snickered.
“How bad is it?”
“Pretty bad. Sometimes I blank out—don’t hurt, just... feels like I drift away.”
“Even now?”
“Better than before.”
“...Feels like I’ve got a terminal patient next to me.”
“Everyone’s living like that anyway.”
He really couldn’t let a single word go.
Ichae stared in disbelief as Hoyun continued calmly, “No one knows what’ll happen in life~”
For someone supposedly dying, Hoyun looked remarkably composed.
“But I’m gonna cling to life with everything I’ve got.”
Squinting against the dazzling sun, Ichae silently looked at him.
“With the punk who dares talk down to me.”
Still holding grudges, huh....
He didn’t bother arguing. Just stared ahead.
The sea shimmered before them, waves glittering under the sunlight, and Hoyun squinted as if the brilliance stung his eyes.
It tickled.
A melody suddenly bloomed in Ichae’s mind.
Ah, I get what Master meant now.
That mix of tension and excitement—his song finally gaining meaning through someone else’s ears.
The last track of the album, the missing piece, clicked perfectly into place.
He hummed softly, letting the tune scatter with the wind.
And for once, the man who’d usually make fun of him just listened quietly.
“Shall we head back?”
I want someone to hear this.
“Shall we use this one?”
I want to tell our story through this melody.
When he smiled, the ever-radiant Seo Hoyun propped his chin on his hand and said seriously,
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Feels like it’ll sell well.”
“Pffft—hahahahaha!”
Yeah, this man hadn’t changed at all.
***
[The Dawn’s Comeback... Full Album to Release After Nearly a Year]
[Composer Still Kang Ichae... Will They Re-enter Billboard Again?]
[‘Kang Ichae Silent Amid Love Calls’ – Past Interviews Resurface]
News of The Dawn’s comeback after nearly a year drew immense attention.
But with it came vicious rumors. Malicious posts multiplied, filled with people acting as if they knew Seo Hoyun personally, tearing him apart—
Calling him a soulless bastard, inhuman, greedy, fake.
Warning others he’d discard people once they weren’t useful.
But Seo Hoyun just kept smiling dazzlingly as always.
Signing autographs for fans, nagging them to eat dinner, pouting when Noeul told him to chill online.
【THE DAWN ‘Framed Eternity’ Official Album Trailer】
In the eye of a storm, a twenty-second teaser dropped.
An abandoned, grand museum.
The entrance reads “CLOSED,” but a man whistles and walks right in, breaking through the boundary.
In the empty corridor, a coffin lies bathed in the pale dawn light.
The members enter one by one, showing their tickets. Each glances at the coffin, then at the wheel beside it.
【Tell me your weakness— Turn.】
At the center stands a wheel.
Breaking the silence, the leader starts. With a tense face, he slowly spins it—clattering, heavy, revealing letters on screen.
【Tell me your desire— turn.】
Then, Sung Jiwon enters alone and rolls the wheel again.
Each spin reveals instruments appearing in different halls of the museum.
【Tell me your fear—】
Gradually, one by one.
Then Seo Hoyun appears—head to toe in black suit, long lashes lowered, holding a dried blue rose.
He places it on the coffin and prays silently.
【Tell me your—】
Then he kicks the wheel, lifts his chin, and looks upward with a defiant gaze, spreading his right hand wide.
It feels like a cue sign. From afar, a hi-hat tick echoes like a clock.
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick—
【■■■■■】
Tick, tick, tick. Hoyun folds one finger after another.
【■■■■S】
Thumb.
【R■■■S】
Ring and pinky.
【RU■NS】
Just before his index finger folds—the final letter forming—
【Oops.】
All the lights go out.
In the darkness, Hoyun’s faintly amused voice spreads.
【A promise is forever.】
—And like a thunderous rebirth, the saxophone blazes to life, burning through the silence!
