Chapter 11: The Trainee Who Refuses to Debut (2)
11. The Trainee Who Refuses to Debut (2)
"Wait, you've already met and been introduced?"
Han Seong-woo's words, laced with thinly veiled suspicion despite his casual tone, made the other trainees' gazes shift between me and Sparkles. The previously relaxed atmosphere instantly grew tense, as if something was off. Sparkles visibly panicked and shook his head.
"No, it's not like that..."
"We met by the restroom. Ran into each other by chance, and he was so handsome I had to ask a staff member about him."
"...Oh, really?"
I smoothly cut off Seong-woo's subtly pointed remark, defusing the situation. Sparkles let out an awkward laugh, playing along as everyone else chuckled. But the air still prickled with invisible tension.
"Alright, introductions are done. Let's take a break, yeah? Everyone must be tired."
Seong-woo patted my shoulder with his ever-friendly leader face before standing. The practice room immediately buzzed with activity. Soon, only Sparkles and I remained in our awkwardly distanced seats. When Sparkles tried to sneak away, I caught him.
"That restroom... where was it again? I can't remember where we ran into each other."
Total lie. There hadn't been any restroom near where we'd met.
"Oh, maybe it was too far... If you go down the hall and turn left..."
"First day here, so the layout's confusing. Easy to get lost."
As I shrugged with feigned helplessness, Sparkles' eyes darted nervously.
"You said turn right when exiting, right?" My innocent tone finally made him take the bait.
"I-I'll show you!"
"Wow, you don't have to. Thanks."
The moment we exited, I naturally turned left, making Sparkles' eyes widen comically again.
What are you—a bomb or a lifeline?
"Eun-chan."
Through the mirror, Eun-chan saw Hajin leaving the practice room with Ha-ru when a familiar voice called him. He pretended to stretch intensely, avoiding eye contact.
But "Eun-chan, Joo Eun-chan"—he couldn't keep ignoring his name being called so familiarly.
Eun-chan rubbed his stiff neck and responded.
"...Yes, Seong-woo hyung."
"Did my earlier comment bother you? Didn't mean anything by it."
"...No, it's fine."
Seong-woo deliberately clapped Eun-chan's shoulder louder, aware of the watching trainees. "Early bird catches the worm, right? With legs like yours!" His boisterous voice filled the room.
"Don't ruin the mood for everyone else. You know what I mean."
"Yes, hyung. ...Sorry."
"Nah, just don't do it again. Keep practicing. Were you warming up? I'll watch."
Even after the conversation ended, Seong-woo didn't leave—he planted himself right in front of Eun-chan, who exhaled quietly. His gaze kept drifting toward the door where Ha-ru and Hajin had exited.
"Eun-chan. Focus. What did I say about half-assed warmups? Basics matter."
"...Yes, sorry."
Suffocating.
Eun-chan swallowed the words.
Dan Ha-ru was nervous. He was shy by nature, and the intimidating new trainee reminded him too much of Eun-chan, making it worse.
Maybe their awkward first meeting added to it? He'd followed reluctantly, uneasy but unable to spill everything to someone he just met.
"It's Ha-ru, right? Where do you live?"
"Huh? Oh, in Seoul..."
"Your family's in Seoul?"
"No, I live at the dorm..."
"Wow, seriously? Tough living alone so young. Where's home?"
"My parents are overseas, but my grandma..."
"Ah. I see."
This was... awkward?
'Why am I telling my life story to someone I just met?'
He'd just answered honestly, but before he knew it, he'd confessed being the youngest trainee, how training was hard but bearable, and even how he missed his grandma's braised ribs.
He'd expected someone as scary as Eun-chan, but Hajin treated him like an old friend. His effortless conversation skills rivaled a camp counselor's.
In the short walk to the restroom, Ha-ru found himself dropping formalities, agreeing to call Hajin "hyung," and even doing so multiple times! Compared to calling Eun-chan—just a year older—"that guy" for a month, this was lightning speed.
'What kind of social sorcery is this?'
Ha-ru's mind raced. He'd been hesitating over something since leaving the practice room. Should he just ask? Tell him not to mention what he'd seen to the others? But what if he asked why? Was it okay to dump this on someone he just met?
Watching this internal struggle, Hajin thought:
'Transparent as glass.'
Every thought played on his face—he'd suffer on variety shows if he debuted. Even with the perfect opening, he still hesitated. Maybe just overly cautious. If he wouldn't speak, Hajin would strike first.
"This about earlier?"
"Huh?"
"No? You looked like you didn't want others knowing about our meeting."
Adopting a warm, understanding tone, Hajin smiled knowingly. The honest Sparkles startled again.
His huge eyes screamed, 'What even is this guy?' Well, it's written all over your face.
"I don't know details, but I'll pretend I never saw you there."
"Th-thank you."
Sparkles bowed nervously but didn't elaborate. Hajin hadn't planned to dig deep on day one anyway.
Just laying groundwork was enough.
"Glad I didn't blurt it out earlier. Could've been awkward."
"No, it's not that serious... Just embarrassing..."
"Crying's nothing. I cried daily at my last company."
"You were a trainee? Where?"
"...Just briefly."
His shrug and laugh chipped away at Sparkles' wariness. Like a rabbit's ears perking up, his posture relaxed. Before re-entering the practice room, Hajin delivered the final blow.
"If something's hard to talk about, ask me to the vending machine. I'll buy you a drink."
Casually tossed out.
"I've got a younger brother. Seeing you reminded me of him."
He'd just sold out his one-year-younger brother Kang Ha-won, currently gaming at home, but Ha-won would never know.
"Too nosy? Just seemed like something you couldn't tell the others."
"...Hyung."
"Yeah?"
"You... feel like a real adult."
Well, yeah. Twenty-nine plus alpha years will do that.
Smiling guiltlessly at the half-dazed Sparkles, Hajin patted his shoulder. If Ha-won saw this, he'd grimace and shake his head, but he wouldn't, so no problem.
'Now take the bait, little lamb.'
Do fish take bait? Whatever.
Miro trainees had five classes: vocals, dance, rap, acting, and fitness.
Each had levels—mine were advanced, intermediate, advanced, beginner, intermediate. Acting was beginner thanks to this damn Mental Care system.
'Emotions feel duller when it's active.'
Problematic. I'll settle things with the System later.
[System Alert: Wh-what...?]
Currently in dance class. My level was "awkward"—decent fundamentals but struggling with complex choreo. Stuck in limbo, it pissed me off.
I'll rip off that "intermediate" label.
"That's it for today. Good work."
After 300 repetitions of a step routine, even walking felt like my ankles would snap.
'Too tired for water.'
Debating hydration versus rest, I collapsed, scanning the room. Pairs stretched or chatted.
Two were missing.
'Joo Eun-chan and Dan Ha-ru.'
Again.
Two weeks in, and those two kept skipping practice under various excuses.
'And someone always reacts sharply.'
"Guys, clean up before resting."
Post-class, Seong-woo—still talking to the dance trainer—shouted irritably. Everyone scrambled to obey.
'Does this really need cleaning now?'
Couldn't sit out while others worked. As I stood, Seong-woo approached. What now?
"Rest, Hajin. You're pushing hard."
"...Should help."
"Leave it. Expensive equipment here—don't want accidents."
A favor?
But sitting out would draw glares.
Unable to pinpoint the hostility, I glanced at him. Seong-woo stood beside me, scanning me with a slight smile.
"Hard adjusting? Jumping into advanced is rough."
"Yeah, stamina's lacking."
"Takes time. Beginners always struggle."
This was clearly a power play. I'd sensed something off since day one. Not just a nice leader, huh? As Seong-woo pocketed his hands and moved to sling an arm over me—
BANG.
"What?"
The firmly shut door burst open. I didn't need to look to know—Joo Eun-chan and Dan Ha-ru. Their noisy footsteps headed straight for me.
"Hyung!"
The dramatic call made me turn. Sparkles—ears red—stood puffing angrily. Uh-oh, pissed?
"Me?"
His resolute nod drew everyone's attention, including Seong-woo's.
Uh, this is...
"Ha-ru, what's up?"
"......"
"......?"
"Vending machine..."
"Huh?"
"Let's get vending machine snacks!"
"...Huh?"
That'll kill you, dumbass.
The words died in my throat.