Enbin's Fan Meeting
"W-Wow."
On the day of Enbin's fan meeting, Moo-young gaped as he looked around the venue.
Enbin, who had been rehearsing on stage, spotted him and came over.
"You made it?"
"Why's this place so huge?"
"Huge? It's smaller than last time."
"I hosted for 1,500 people!"
How many could this place hold? The front was standing room only, and the back was packed with seats. This wasn't a fan meeting—it was basically a concert.
"I did shows this size in my first year too. You'll get here once you hit my level. Heh heh heh!"
"Ugh, cocky much!"
"Anyway, how'd the audition go?"
Moo-young nodded confidently at Enbin's question. He scanned for his dancer friend, but no luck.
"Thanks to you. Rode the wire perfectly and wrapped on a high note. Results should come next week."
No exaggeration—the vibe had been spot-on. Even Kang Ok-kyeong had told him to wait with a light heart. He could afford to hope a little.
Enbin caught his glance and tugged his arm.
"Dancers are getting makeup backstage. Come on. You're wearing that, right? Hit the salon?"
They hopped over tangled cables toward the backstage area, with Go Kyung-min trailing nimbly behind to stay out of the way.
"Yeah. Whose is this?"
"Born To Riot, obviously."
"Ooh, nice."
In the dressing room, Enbin pinned back his bangs. Go Kyung-min flashed his blaring phone and signaled he'd step out. Moo-young plopped down beside Enbin to watch him do his makeup.
"Heard there's another guest besides you today."
"News travels fast."
"Staff told me."
"Ro Min was supposed to come, but schedule issues, so Oon Ta's filling in."
"What? Oon Ta?"
Moo-young's mouth fell open in surprise. Enbin propped his chin to close it, stifling a laugh as their eyes met in the mirror.
"Watch out. Oon Ta's pissed."
"Wait, we sharing a waiting room?"
"No rooms left."
"No way! Nobody warned me!"
Clack. Just as Moo-young yelped in panic, Oon Ta walked in, his usual stone-faced expression intact. Enbin waved casually, but Moo-young froze up.
"H-Hi. Oon Ta."
First uncomfortable person in the industry, and it was Oon Ta. Moo-young stuttered without meaning to.
Rustle.
"Hyung. Here."
"Oh, thanks. Can't go without it."
Oon Ta ignored Moo-young's greeting and tossed something to Enbin—an ankle brace. Enbin tucked it away and finished his makeup.
"Enbin! Time to head out!"
"Got it."
Moo-young grabbed Enbin's sleeve as he stood.
'You're ditching me?'
'Panic + disbelief + please don't!'—that was Moo-young's face right now.
Enbin chuckled and shook him off.
"Beef after. My treat."
"Hey, wait—"
"Enbin!"
"Coming!"
Thud! Enbin bolted at the staff's call, leaving Moo-young alone with Oon Ta, who stared blankly at his phone.
Tick-tock. Time crawled by, heavy on his skin. The stylist sister helped him endure, but she dashed off mid-convo. Where the hell was Manager hyung taking all those calls?!
Waaaaah—Boom! Boom boom boom!
"Ah."
The show had started—faint cheers and music filtered in. As Moo-young let out a soft gasp, Oon Ta's gaze shifted to him.
'Eek.'
Moo-young forced an awkward smile and tried small talk.
"N-Nice weather today, huh?"
Oon Ta's brows furrowed slightly.
Oh god. Bad move?
"I—"
"Ahh! Weather's too nice! Gotta check outside. Fighting, Oon Ta! Aja aja!"
Thud! Moo-young fled the dressing room and followed the hype to backstage, where staff watched monitors.
"Whoa, Moo-young. Not your turn yet."
"Kinda hot."
"Want me to lower the AC?"
"Nah, I'm good. Can I watch from here?"
The staff scooted over like it was no big deal. Split-screen showed Enbin and the venue. Onstage, he shone brighter than ever.
"Guess people really do glow in the right spot."
"Right? Kid grabs a mic and turns it on."
Explosive vocals, killer moves, top-tier production. Fans collapsing from screaming? Totally get it.
"Hm?"
As Moo-young wedged in among the staff, something caught his eye on the screen.
Faint smoke...
'What the?'
Fog machine? Couldn't rub his made-up eyes, so he blinked hard and refocused. But the black smog lingered.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Can we zoom here?"
Moo-young pointed to a corner.
"Nah, camera director controls zoom. Why?"
Standing section corner—bad angle, nothing special. Just fans hyped for Enbin, like everywhere else.
"Something off there."
Staff huddled, staring. Nothing jumped out amid the frenzy.
"What is it?"
"Dunno, but send a usher?"
"...Yeah. B-section lead?"
Crackle. The staffer tilted his head and grabbed the radio. No clue what, but Moo-young's serious face demanded a check. He radioed the usher and kept eyes glued.
"Huh?"
"What?"
"Oh crap!"
He spotted it too, jolting and keying the radio. Moo-young clocked the odd ripple in the crowd—someone yanking hair ahead.
"Standing B back row. Fight breaking out? Yeah, right there!"
Early heads-up got the usher there fast. Standing zone chaos: bumping turned brawl.
"A fight? On a day like this?"
"Happens sometimes—"
Standing scraps over space or stares? Common. But outright violence? New.
"Oh no. Enbin saw."
Security wading in, fans murmuring slack-jawed. Enbin onstage noticed too.
"Bin-ah. Looks like a fight in standing."
"Yeah! Hold the song!"
"Shit. Damn it."
"What're ushers doing?!"
Enbin halting mid-song threw backstage into frenzy. Moo-young bit his lip anxiously. Enbin's frown filled the close-up.
Zero Team's fandom was Tumbler, huh. Fans yelled at the pair to stop; ushers booted them. Disturbance over, Enbin beamed like nothing happened.
Enbin smoothly recovered and restarted. But inside, how burned was he? Moo-young clucked his tongue sympathetically.
"Moo-young, your cue soon."
"Got it."
He straightened up, awaiting the signal. Familiar song hit; staff guided him quick.
Boom boom! Boom!
"Go now!"
"Yep!"
Moo-young nodded and dashed onstage. Fans Enbin-focused blinked at the sudden guy.
"Who's that?"
"Holy—Ha Moo-young."
"Ha Moo-young? Where? Oh!"
"Guest! Waaaaah!"
"Kyaaaaah!"
Cheers erupted. Moo-young waved, syncing light moves with Enbin: boom-step-boom boom-step!
Short twenty-second choreo, but the reaction was fire.
'You good?'
'Yeah. Nailed it.'
Sweat-drenched Enbin grinned and grabbed the mic.
"Everyone, special guest today. You all know him—actor Ha Moo-young. Thanks for coming, Moo-young."
"Kyaaaaah!"
He intro'd as promised, swapping updates.
"I did a Southeast Asia tour recently, and Hanbam Pochah was blowing up. K-wave, starting with the food."
"For real?"
"That was our first meet."
"Right. Enbin struggled so much with spicy. Hogged all the drinks."
Moo-young MC'd guest-style. Shattered vibe reignited; fans loved Enbin's 'friend' side.
"Where at?"
"Moo-young's talking."
Oon Ta, changed, entered backstage. Screen showed the duo.
"How'd Moo-young know?"
"Huh? Know what?"
"You were in makeup. Standing fight. Caused a delay."
"Wild. Sharp eyes or what? Spotted it in that crowd?"
Staff buzzed; Oon Ta silently watched. Moo-young and Enbin grinning nonstop, fans laughing too.
* * *
"Great job, everyone!"
"Enbin, you killed it! Cheers!"
"Drink up! Drink!"
Fan meet wrapped successfully. Minor hiccup, but two special guests nailed the pivot. Left Tumblers smiling.
"Man, first time for this."
"Yeah. Site director says second ever. With his experience."
Staff mixed in, but Enbin, Moo-young, Oon Ta shared a table. Moo-young sipped beer, sneaking peeks at Oon Ta.
"So how'd you spot it?"
"Me? Just... saw it."
Enbin grilled meat for him, amazed. If he'd missed it, someone badly hurt...
'Don't even think it.'
Enbin shook off the nightmare.
"Eat up. You earned it. Thanks."
"No prob. Skipped lunch."
"Sure sure. Break my wallet. Oon Ta."
"Hm?"
He eyed the silent Oon Ta.
"How long you gonna sulk? If it's a misunderstanding, clear it. Skipping me too? We'll cross paths plenty."
"No, it's not..."
Oon Ta grumbled awkwardly.
"What? Hierarchy's a mess."
"Hm. Polite speech all around?"
Oon Ta stared at Moo-young, then slid his empty glass over.
Clink.
"...One round. Settle it."
"Whoa, bold. But I'm no fighter."
"Who said fight?"
He mixed somac refreshingly and offered it.
"I win, you drop Enbin hyung friendship. You win, I'll call you hyung. Done."
Drinking game? Dumbest way. Moo-young gawked at Enbin, who whispered laughing,
"Told ya. Old-school."
"...Figures."
Did they need strict hyung-dongsaeng? As Moo-young pondered, Oon Ta downed his first.
Then nodded: your turn.
"Ooh! Oon Ta's going hard today?"
Clueless staff cheered rowdily.
No choice! Moo-young toasted and chugged.
Clink!
"So then—"
"No way!"
"Hahaha! Lie! Who does that?"
Bustling restaurant. Dawn neared, booze thickened. Tipsy Enbin turned.
"You two still at it?"
Oon Ta half-slumped forward, Moo-young ramrod straight. Both grinning like idiots.
"Hyuuung! Moo-young's hilariousss."
"Right? Told ya he's cool."
"But— can't drink, my ass. Chugs like pro? Ugh. Stomach churning. Gonna hurl."
Oon Ta clutched his head, mumbling. Finally face-planted the table in surrender.
"Okay! Hyung! Moo-young hyung! I'll call ya hyung. Fuuuuck..."
Thud! KO.
Hierarchy settled, Oon Ta nobly passed out calling him hyung.
Enbin tilted his head at Moo-young.
"You good?"
"Yeah."
Weird. Kid can't hold liquor? Enbin held up two fingers.
"How many?"
"Pfft. Am I dumb?"
Moo-young giggled closer, poking nostrils on the fingers. Then it hit: Moo-young just seemed fine blackout drunk.
"Since when?"
"Third round, actually. Uhihihihi!"
Right. Enbin wiped fingers on Moo-young's shirt, eyeing Oon Ta's pitiful defeat.
This secret... better keep it for Oon Ta's sake.