The Day After Camp
The day after Choose My Prince 99's first training camp wrapped.
Ye-chan stood beside Woo Hwi-gyum at the entrance of a busy downtown fast-food joint, staring off into the distance.
Meeting Hwi-gyum like this, privately, with no cameras rolling, was of course not Ye-chan's idea.
The text that had landed on Ye-chan's phone the night before had come from none other than Woo Hwi-gyum.
Ye-chan double-checked the sender's name and frowned.
Who is this guy trying to drag down to hell with him?
It was painfully obvious this was a "let's hang out tomorrow" pitch. They hadn't exactly been buddy-buddy throughout the entire camp, so where Hwi-gyum had cooked up this one-sided sense of closeness was anyone's guess.
Was it the first day? Ugh. I guess from the outside it did look like I was having the time of my life with those recreation games.
The only reason Ye-chan had put in any effort at all was that damn hologram window and its quests. But Hwi-gyum, knowing nothing of the real story, could easily have mistaken the two of them sweeping every event together for the birth of some genuine bond.
Ye-chan glared at the message, shook his head, and shut off the screen.
The silver lining was that Hwi-gyum had used a regular text message instead of a messenger app — the kind that didn't show whether you'd read it or not.
If he comes at me later asking why I never replied, I'll just say I never saw it.
The fatigue from camp was finally catching up to him, and he was just about to drift off when a messenger notification chimed.
If it had been Hwi-gyum switching from text to messenger, Ye-chan would have peeked at the preview and ignored it. But this time, the sender was someone else.
With the first episode of Chumaf just over two weeks away, the show was set to launch a full-scale promotional blitz starting this weekend. Beginning with the theme song stage they'd killed themselves filming at camp, the trainees' profiles, self-intro videos, and teasers would roll out one after another.
And the day before the premiere — next Thursday — they'd been told the theme song stage would air live on N-net's music show, the same network broadcasting Chumaf. Whether hauling all ninety-nine trainees onto a live broadcast instead of a pre-recording was actually a good idea remained to be seen.
Well, even if a few of them wipe out like last reset, at least it'll make headlines.
Ye-chan recalled with a dry smirk which trainees had fallen that time around, then fired off an immediate yes to Sang-rok. With nowhere decent to practice and a karaoke room as his only fallback, it wasn't an offer he had any reason to refuse.
After getting the time and place from Sang-rok and wrapping up a short exchange, Ye-chan fell asleep in a considerably lighter mood.
And then the next day.
Waiting for Ye-chan at the meeting spot was not Shim Sang-rok, but Woo Hwi-gyum.
"……?"
Why are you here?
Hwi-gyum quietly averted his eyes from the look Ye-chan was giving him — a look that might as well have had those exact words stamped across his face.
With uncanny timing, Sang-rok's message landed in the Chumaf roommate group chat.
Ye-chan clenched his teeth without meaning to.
So he didn't just invite me. He invited everyone.
He should have said so in the group chat from the start. Ye-chan never would have come.
Blissfully unaware of Ye-chan's throbbing headache, Beom Se-hyuk fired back a reply in his usual taste. Ye-chan had no idea why this kid was schlepping all the way out here when Rubel Entertainment had its own practice rooms. He briefly pictured Rubel's gleaming building, then snuck a glance at Hwi-gyum's face.
Still couldn't meet his eyes. So Hwi-gyum had figured out that Ye-chan had deliberately left him on read.
I thought he was just quiet and dense, but I guess not.
Hwi-gyum clearly hadn't expected Ye-chan either — his fluster was way too obvious. For a second Ye-chan considered making some excuse, then thought better of it. Letting things stay this thoroughly awkward wasn't such a bad outcome.
No — it was actually ideal.
Ye-chan deliberately cleared his throat a couple of awkward times and addressed Hwi-gyum.
"Ahem. So, want to head in once Se-hyuk gets here?"
"……Yeah."
Another stretch of uncomfortable silence settled between them.
Ye-chan was mulling over whether inventing some emergency and leaving right then would put a clean full stop on his relationship with Hwi-gyum when Beom Se-hyuk arrived.
"Hey!"
Showing up right on time, Se-hyuk had a hat pulled so low it covered half his face. He bounded over waving both arms enthusiastically. Hwi-gyum gave a small nod; Ye-chan pulled one hand from his pocket and waved back.
"Were you guys waiting for me? It's freezing — you should've gone inside!"
"You said you'd be right here. Let's go in."
Ten minutes was short enough that they could have waited for Sang-rok and gone in together. But three guys taller than average standing outside a fast-food place were drawing a fair amount of attention — too many people glancing their way. Ye-chan herded Se-hyuk and Hwi-gyum inside.
The last thing he needed was some sharp-eyed stranger watching Chumaf later and posting about how those trainees were actually out hanging around together like best friends. Ye-chan had already endured more than enough of how obsessively the public dissected celebrities' personal relationships.
Every time something blew up with a member, that whole "birds of a feather" garbage dragged the rest of us out by association… I'm staying the hell away from anyone with a school violence scandal.
The fast-food place, which he hadn't set foot in for a long time, was packed. Having kept greasy, heavily seasoned food at arm's length for ages as part of his self-management since the resets began, Ye-chan found the scene oddly fascinating.
In this day and age, there are still this many people willing to eat junk food for a fleeting hit of pleasure.
"I should ask Sang-rok hyung what he wants too. What are you guys getting?"
Se-hyuk stepped up to the kiosk like it was the most natural thing in the world and turned back to the other two.
"Shrimp burger for me."
"Got it, let's see… shrimp burger…"
For someone who'd started ordering with such confidence, his technique was remarkably clumsy. Ye-chan silently reached over and tapped the shrimp burger himself.
This kid is completely useless at everyday life, isn't he?
Lee:Spirit had had one member who was hopeless at practical stuff too, and this guy looked like he'd be worse, not better. They'd have to stick together for at least seven years — Ye-chan was already dreading how much of a headache he'd be.
Unfazed by the unimpressed stare, Se-hyuk started hunting for his own order.
"Huh? Why isn't it here? Did they discontinue it?"
Ye-chan, once again, silently selected the menu item for him — the restaurant's signature item that Se-hyuk had somehow managed to "discontinue" all on his own.
"Whoa, Ye-chan, you've got really good eyes. Oh — phone's ringing. Be right back, gotta take this."
Getting praised and feeling annoyed about it was a novel experience. With Se-hyuk stepping aside to take the call, Ye-chan started picking out his own food. Hwi-gyum, who'd been standing quietly behind him, asked in an awkward voice,
"……Uh. Are you gonna eat all that?"
"……Is it a lot?"
As mentioned, Ye-chan didn't normally touch fast food. But coming all the way here just to sit and not order anything felt like it would kill the mood, so he'd forced some enthusiasm — and apparently overdone it.
Ye-chan looked over his selections. A burger was mandatory. Fries… those were basic, right? And if you were going to order them, upsizing was just better value. A shake was non-negotiable for balance. And coming here without getting cheese sticks would feel like a loss.
His eyes bounced back and forth across the screen for a long moment. Hwi-gyum carefully spoke up again.
"Well… if you can finish it all, I think it's fine to order everything. We're practicing after we eat anyway."
"Right?"
Ye-chan turned to him with a bright face and eagerly hit the order button — only for a pale hand to materialize out of nowhere and slot a card into the machine.
"Mom's card has entered the chat! Today's on me."
Se-hyuk, back from his call, squared his shoulders and lifted his chin with great pride.
"Thanks. Tell your mom I ate well."
Hwi-gyum looked flustered, but Ye-chan — who never turned down a free meal — offered his thanks. His living expenses were already stretched thin from all the karaoke practice; this was a windfall.
They found an empty table and sat down, and before long Sang-rok arrived. He'd ordered a kids' meal, of all things, and looked thoroughly delighted by the toy that came with it, carefully tucking it into his coat pocket.
What a collection of weirdos, Ye-chan thought, sucking down his milkshake.
After a light meal, Ye-chan and the other three headed over to GE's building — Sang-rok's company.
"Se-hyuk, I honestly figured you wouldn't make it. Thought you'd be practicing with Ui-tak."
Ye-chan had been surprised Se-hyuk was even here. Rubel Entertainment, where Se-hyuk and Jeong Ui-tak belonged, had far better facilities and support than a small outfit like GE. And since the two of them could just practice together, there was no real reason to impose on someone else's company practice room the way Hwi-gyum — who had no agency — and Ye-chan himself had to.
"Ah, Ui-tak went home. His parents and relatives all live on Jeju Island."
Se-hyuk answered casually.
"That's pretty far. Camp was exhausting, so getting some rest is probably a good call."
GE's practice room, once they stepped inside, was surprisingly clean.
"Alright, want to start with some stretching?"
At Sang-rok's suggestion, the practice addicts — who'd started lighting up the moment they walked through the door — eagerly stripped off their heavy outer layers. Ye-chan carefully hung his jacket over a chair and joined the three of them in warming up.
When Hwi-gyum mentioned he'd have to sit out starting the next day because of other commitments, Ye-chan threw a silent victory celebration. And then he showed up at GE the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that.
Even on the day the Choose My Prince 99 theme song stage video dropped, the three of them were in the practice room working up a sweat as usual.
"Guys, the video's up!"
A GE staffer they'd gotten friendly with in the meantime flung open the practice room door, waving a tablet. Sang-rok and Se-hyuk whipped their heads around so fast you could practically hear the whoosh, then rushed over. Ye-chan, closest to the speakers, cut the music that had been playing.
Once all three trainees had gathered, the staffer hit play with a strangely proud look on his face.
Even the intro — which Ye-chan had heard so many times he was sick of it — somehow sounded different. His heart started pounding.
Settle down, heart.
His heart ignored the scolding and beat even faster.
Back when he'd been a top idol, people would sometimes ask if standing on so many stages and appearing on so many shows meant he'd lost the thrill of watching his own broadcasts. Ye-chan, who had been an idol for several times longer than any of them imagined, had always thought the same thing:
This warm rush of anticipation would never fade — not even if he reset hundreds of times.
Humbly accepting that further lectures to his heart were pointless, Ye-chan quietly fixed his attention on the tablet screen.