Chapter 32
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Hospital Admission Records Exposed!
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Hospital admission records exposed!
Wow, it's true he was hospitalized for half a year. Doesn't that mean the assault claim is total bullshit?
Am I the only one who doesn't get it? What's the connection between hospitalization and assault anyway?
Right? Lol, usually they wait till it blows up to expose, but dropping it right at debut? They must've been plotting hard lololol.
They claim he got cut for severe assault, so he's denying it. Just admit you wanna trash-talk lololol.
Yeah, no~ They were gonna boot him for his shitty personality, but karma struck pre-debut with an injury, so they cut him as a bonus.
“They're really going wild writing fanfic and passing out from excitement.”
Go Moo-seo slammed his phone down roughly after checking the comments and turned to Kim Han-soo sitting across from him.
“What do those goddamn rags say—the ones that broke this lowbrow crap as their exclusive?”
“They claim they just reposted something that blew up.”
Bang!
His hand slammed the table with enough force to make a thunderous noise, trembling with rage. Fury boiling over, he snarled.
“What a load of crap! It reeks of GH payoffs from a mile away!”
He'd already endured a morning tongue-lashing from the vice president, laced with mockery, leaving him in a foul mood.
Tsk tsk, coddling him like that and then throwing tantrums like a thunderbolt. Should've listened to me, Executive Director.
Every snide word was enough to set Go Moo-seo off.
What irked him more was the vice president's oddly gleeful vibe, even though this was company business.
If he weren't the president's cousin...
He itched to crush the vice president's smug nose, but now wasn't the time. He had mountains of issues to fix.
Yet the situation was spiraling worse by the minute.
“Call from the drama team!”
“What now?”
“They're reconsidering Lee Do-jun's casting. Say his image is already tarnished before filming starts...”
“Tell them to hold off! It's defamation, no question!”
“...I did. No dice.”
“Get them back on the line!”
At Go Moo-seo's bellow, the staffer averted his eyes.
“Uh... they already hung up.”
“Those bastards!”
Just days ago, they'd been all smiles and “looking forward to working with you.” A total one-eighty.
Did they take GH money too?
It was a frustrated hunch, but not entirely implausible.
GH was a powerhouse leading the industry for over a decade.
Even non-fans went, “Oh, that GH?” at the name.
They might not topple heads, but pressuring mid-level decision-makers? Easy.
No, if so, they'd use this to shake Min-ha.
And if that were the play, they had other angles—like radio...
That's when it hit.
A promo staffer burst in, panting heavily.
“Executive Director! A new article linking Lee Do-jun's CBK brawl to his Park Min-ha radio appearance just dropped.”
“Son of a bitch!”
Under Kim Han-soo's orders, the manager had taken the dorm living room, so the members huddled in the small bedroom.
Do-jun was lying down in the other room. He'd barely slept from stress last night, so the guys had made him rest.
The company had hooked them up with the biggest dorm available, but soundproofing between rooms wasn't great, so Park Tae-hoo whispered.
“Karma's a bitch, right? We're not really screwed, are we?”
His usual mangled idiom drew no nitpick from Ha-woon this time.
Situation was too dire.
Fidgeting anxiously, Kim Ha-woon ventured carefully.
“He didn't really hit someone... did he?”
“Hmmm... Nah, I don't think so.”
“Right? Right?”
Kim Ha-woon brightened at Park Tae-hoo's words, but soon deflated.
“But if it's true? If Do-jun hyung really did it, then we're...”
...done for, right?
He barely swallowed the rest.
Saying it aloud might make it real, like words had power.
Prepping and grinding schedules together had bonded them tight with Do-jun.
He trusted the Do-jun he knew wouldn't do that, but doubt kept creeping in.
The mood sank rock-bottom again.
The clockless room fell into dead silence, broken only by soft breaths tickling ears.
“Let's hit the living room and watch TV. No more holing up.”
Lee Jae-ha broke the heavy quiet.
“TV? Now?”
Park Tae-hoo blinked in disbelief.
“You craving TV right now?”
“We gonna mope forever? Better to zone out with something on.”
“Doubt it'll stick...”
“Doesn't matter. Beats stewing here.”
Lee Jae-ha stood first, firm.
“Talking won't fix shit, and negative spirals? TV's way better.”
“Whiiine... Aren't you worried, hyung?”
Kim Ha-woon gazed up, eyes glassy.
“Worried as hell.”
No way he wasn't. Suggesting TV was half for himself.
When Do-jun first joined, Jae-ha had feared this exact mess.
But now? He'd spent real time with him, seen him up close.
Trust what I've seen. Do what I can.
And right now? Calm the guys spiraling into rabbit holes.
Lee Jae-ha tugged their arms.
“Believe in the Do-jun hyung we know. Chill, wait it out, watch some variety.”
Members perked up a bit, letting him pull them up.
Even lounging comfy felt like sitting on thorns.
A day after the hospital records dropped, comments were still split down the middle.
Seeing my name trend real-time? No joy, just dread. Who needs this fame?
Communities buzzed with my drama. Comments? Warzone.
I tried ignoring, but curiosity dragged me back.
“Why torture yourself with that crap?”
Lee Jae-ha slipped in, covering my phone screen. Thought he was in the living room.
“Uh, well...”
No defense for doomscrolling. I trailed off; he shook his head.
“Come watch TV. Something fun's on.”
“Nah.”
I forced a smile, shaking my head.
At first, baseless hope: it'll blow over quick sans proof.
But days passed, outrage lingered, anxiety mounted.
My image? Shredded. Worse: no solid proof I didn't do it.
Damn.
How prove I didn't hit someone years back?
The accuser couldn't either, but public didn't care.
Ask most-trusted Kim Min-jae? No go.
Handling hotshot rookies Flame—would he risk all?
Even if he would, job loss meant compensating big—Pida gig or equivalent.
Public? Would scream collusion.
GH bribing witnesses? Rumor reignites, bigger mess.
Plus, Kim Han-soo already leaked intel—pushing more risked him.
Insane.
Since shit hit, wished a hundred times I was solo.
Frame-up or not, members suffered 'cause of me. No clue how to face 'em.
“Hyung, that car.”
“Huh?”
Lee Jae-ha, staring, pointed.
His finger aimed at the model foreign car I'd gifted him.
“I said maybe the real one's next.”
...Yeah, but now? Doubt it.
My fault.
My gloom must've shown; he smirked, patted my shoulder.
“Offer stands. I know you can swing it.”
“...”
“And they're flailing too. You've held strong; more might backfire.”
“My rep's in the gutter. Mission accomplished.”
“Reps rebound.”
If only.
But he meant well—no arguing.
“Our image's fine still. You're not public enemy #1. Time heals.”
“...Thanks.”
“Least we—I—trust you. No solo moping.”
He grinned small, uncovered the phone.
“And your nerves make us nervous. You said no such dirt, right?”
“Damn straight.”
“Then act normal, confident. You mope like guilty, we worry.”
He spun toward the living room.
“Hurry. Chicken 'n' pizza incoming.”
Lee Jae-ha greenlighting junk food?
Guy was stepping up for the team. Leader duty I dropped—grateful.
Door ajar, voices carried.
“What's Do-jun hyung doing?”
“Surfing net. Coming soon.”
“Hyung! Hurry! Super fun stuff on!”
Kim Ha-woon's usual nag cracked a smile. Yeah, wallowing worsens it.
I dragged myself out. Group huddled in the living room.
Facing them froze me stiff.
What face was I making? Walking right?
Body felt alien. Awkwardly, I headed to the sofa.
They acted normal, but I felt it: tiptoeing around me.
They could've raged—fair play. My mess, frame or not.
Instead, their care stung my eyes hot.
Choking up, I stared at the ceiling fluorescent.
Bright light—or emotion?—blurred vision white.
Couldn't lower my head, forced words out. Voice held steady, somehow.
“...Sorry. All my fault, guys.”
Kim Ha-woon's reply instant.
“No way! No schedule means chill time, plus chicken? Win-win!”
All eyes snapped to him. Cheeks flaming, voice tiny.
“...Okay, not really.”
As he mumbled “Sorry for lying,” laughter erupted in the living room.