Chapter 285
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 285
“Ugh, Seo Ho-yun, you’re so damn annoying.”
I took a sip of my beer and glanced at Ju Woo-seong. He was busy typing away on his phone, likely messaging his members.
What a strange guy.
He said he was trying, and it seemed he was actually on decent terms with his group now.
“Your members are nice,” I remarked.
“I told you. I’m the biggest troublemaker of the lot,” Woo-seong replied, his fingers still flying across the screen, immediately catching my drift. “It was this easy once I set my mind to it. I don’t know why it felt so hard before.”
He set his phone down on the table and looked out the window.
“We should go somewhere and film some self-produced content, too. Our schedule is empty for a while, so we should give the fans something.”
“Oh...?”
“Hey, wipe that look off your face. It’s written all over you: ‘How could Ju Woo-seong have such a thoughtful idea?’”
When I just smirked, he grumbled about how juniors these days had no respect.
“But you don’t have any schedules for a while? I thought you’d be making a comeback soon.”
“We’re not.”
Woo-seong picked up a piece of dried squid and chewed on it.
“Chae Jeong-woo has vocal nodules.”
“Vocal nodules?”
I thought I was up to speed on most of the rumors within WH Entertainment, but this was news to me.
Woo-seong continued the conversation calmly, as if discussing a mundane part of daily life.
“I guess he overdid it during the tour. He insisted he was fine... but he finally got diagnosed earlier this year.”
“...”
“The company and the members worried a lot, but what can you do? We have to push back the comeback until Jeong-woo recovers.”
He didn’t even seem that disappointed.
“You could do a short comeback, couldn't you?”
“Better not to do it at all than to prepare something half-baked.”
“What about without Chae Jeong-woo?”
“He’s too popular. We can’t.”
If they released even a single, the Daesang would be practically guaranteed for them again this year. Seeing as they had decided so firmly on a hiatus, Jeong-woo’s condition must be quite serious.
As I silently swallowed my beer, Woo-seong glanced at me and added one more thing.
“Do you know what this means? This will be the only year since Black Call started winning Daesangs that we won’t take it.”
“...”
He looked so nonchalant. It wasn't like he was looking for sympathy or comfort.
I narrowed my eyes and let out a casual remark.
“I’ll enjoy the Daesang, then.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. If we don’t get it, you think it’s automatically yours?”
Woo-seong shook his head in disbelief and downed his beer in one go.
“I don’t know what the company will say later, but either way, I’m going to keep waiting.”
“Why?”
“‘Black Call’s Ju Woo-seong.’ It has a nice ring to it.”
For someone who had been so awkward with his members until recently, he seemed to have developed a strong attachment to the group. Or perhaps it had grown over time.
“Well, that was a wise choice.”
In truth, an idol’s prime is short. In the grand scheme of a lifetime, it’s barely the stage where a bud begins to sprout, yet people often say an idol’s flower has already withered.
That was why agencies often pushed them to the limit. Naturally, the result of that accumulated strain usually backfired. The moment even one member broke down, it became difficult for the group to recover.
“An idol’s health is the top priority. If even one member gets sick, an idol’s career can end in an instant... What would have happened if something serious happened to Chae Jeong-woo?”
But strangely, the more I spoke, the more uncomfortable I felt. It felt like I was saying something I shouldn't be.
“...It must have been a difficult decision for the members, but it’s good that you’re being considerate of each other...”
Woo-seong didn’t interrupt me. He just kept sipping his beer and staring at me with a faint, unsettling smile.
“...If you want to keep promoting as a group long-term, it’s an inevitable choice... No, why do you keep looking at me like that?”
Woo-seong let out a blatant cackle.
“Aww, does your conscience prick you?”
“...”
“You funny, cute little bastard.”
Even as I made my annoyance clear, Woo-seong just snorted.
“Hey. Do you know what the worst of your many, many flaws is?”
“...What is it?”
“It’s that a smart guy like you loses his head the moment it involves the people around him.”
He pointed at the beer bottle I was holding and crooked his finger. When I obediently handed it over, he pushed me by the back and kicked me out of the room.
“Big brother is tired and needs to rest. Get lost. And call me if things get hard.”
The door slammed shut before I could even respond.
“Sigh...”
Every single one of them...
Why would I call you if things were hard, you prick...
I picked up the t-shirts I’d bought at the gift shop, which had been tossed onto the floor along with me, and turned around.
To successfully complete all the quests, I needed the members' help. No matter how well I did on my own, I couldn't reach the first tier or complete the scenario quests alone.
I also knew that to achieve that, I had to show the members a certain level of trust.
Yet, a part of me still wanted to just gloss over things and move on.
Nothing in this world is easy.
But if that 'trust' was truly necessary...
Maybe there was a way to show just a little bit of it.
“...Hey.”
After checking my surroundings, I called out to the system window in a low voice.
[If you are asking for my opinion, I always support you, Seo Ho-yun. However, if you could consider the members' feelings just a little more this time...]
“Whatever. Not that.”
I waved my hand to clear the blue window that was pouring out text as if it had been waiting for me.
“Show me Jeong Da-jun’s stats.”
[......Yes, yes.]
I intended to check the stats I’d skipped over last time. As I scanned the list of numbers, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
[Jeong Da-jun
Our Dawn’s cute maknae who is still practicing hard.
Singing: B-
Dancing: A+ (S-)
Variety: B+
Acting: C-
Charm: A-
???: ???]
I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and scanned it again slowly.
“...What?”
Am I seeing this right?
*
Heavy breathing echoed throughout the practice room.
“Whoa, I’m exhausted.”
Catching his breath, Jeong Da-jun meticulously checked his dance lines.
It was still hard to dance while suppressing the pain, but strangely, as he got used to it, the choreography seemed to stick to his body better. Even Kim Seong-hyeon had been complimenting him lately.
Just a little more.
Recently, Da-jun felt an excessive amount of anxiety, even by his own standards. Without knowing why, he was just endlessly scared and afraid.
His foot slipped as the anxiety reared its head again, and he collapsed onto the floor.
Just then, the practice room door swung open and Kim Seong-hyeon walked in.
“Maknae, what are you doing?”
“Ah~, Seong-hyeon hyung~. I’m contemplating life.”
“Good grief.”
Seong-hyeon sat down next to the youngest, who was just waving one hand in the air, and held out a box with a donut illustration on it.
“Seo Ho-yun bought this. He told me to give it to you.”
“Huh?”
“He said he wanted to give it to you himself, but he knew you’d just avoid him again.”
“Huuuh??”
Startled, Da-jun bolted upright with an indignant expression.
“No, when did I ever avoid him! It’s not like that... it’s just...”
He just wanted Ho-yun to understand how he felt...
Da-jun knew his anger would melt the moment they faced each other, so he couldn't help it.
“...Maybe I did avoid him.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
Da-jun let out a long sigh while looking at the ceiling, then sat up and picked up his phone. He played a clip of their 'Connected' performance from the RIX Cup.
Below it were comments in various languages. Most were praising The Dawn.
“Watching it again?”
“Yes. I feel like I’m still lacking...”
There were occasional negative comments, but he didn't care about the reactions toward himself anymore.
Perhaps it was because he was surrounded by people like Seo Ho-yun and Kang Yi-chae, who would just smirk and move past malicious comments. They say even a schoolhouse dog can recite poetry after three years; having been with the members for nearly three years, he could mostly brush things off with indifference.
He easily ignored the words of the staff member who had sneered behind their backs, calling them empty shells packaged to suit the public's taste.
Because it wasn't true.
Because there was never a single moment when The Dawn hadn't given their absolute best.
He’d rather spend the time he’d waste worrying about such things on practicing a bit more and trying to keep up with his hyungs.
“But why are you so anxious?”
“...Can you tell?”
“Very clearly.”
“...I don’t know. I think it’s because I want to do really well. ......And...”
“Seo Ho-yun?”
Da-jun bit his lip.
He knew that Seo Ho-yun wasn't wrong. It was just that it hurt because it was Seo Ho-yun who had said those things.
I mean, you were the same, Hyung!
Ho-yun acted as if it didn't matter if his heart stopped or his ankle snapped. Yet, when Da-jun had merely tripped, Ho-yun was the first to rush over, check his body, and get furious.
Thinking back, he had always been consistent.
Da-jun remembered Ho-yun’s face as he ran toward him in a panic during the final relay race of 'Victory is Mine.' Even though he had been keeping everyone at a distance back then, he had naturally carried the team's maknae on his back and run.
Da-jun found that side of Ho-yun frustrating. How he was infinitely proactive when it came to the members' affairs, yet tried to brush off his own.
“I really don’t know what Ho-yun hyung is thinking.”
Seong-hyeon ruffled Da-jun’s hair.
“Which of us truly knows what’s going on in his head?”
“...”
“Even Buddha probably wouldn't know.”
When Ho-yun got hurt while preparing for the Gymnastics Stadium concert, the members had opposed him going on stage. But it didn't work at all, and eventually, Seong-hyeon, Seong Ji-won, and Kang Yi-chae had just sighed and quickly accepted the situation.
When Da-jun was the only one pouting in disapproval, Kang Yi-chae had laughed and poked him.
“He’s the type you won’t understand until he shows you.”
“Huh?”
“Then we just have to let him show us.”
And Yi-chae seemed to have found his own way to support Ho-yun.
But Da-jun still didn't know how he could be a source of strength for him.
“Hyung, that’s the problem. Because I don’t know...”
He felt pathetic for just worrying without taking action. He wondered if it was really because he was young.
His mind had been a mess, and when he actually heard the word 'young' come out of Ho-yun’s mouth, he had snapped without realizing it. Even after storming out of the practice room and running five laps around the building, he hadn't calmed down at all.
“...I can’t do anything for him.”
Listening quietly to the maknae’s grievances, Seong-hyeon opened the box and handed him a donut.
“Eat first.”
“...Okay.”
With a gloomy face, Da-jun took a big bite of the donut. The round donut turned into a semicircle.
“...It’s good.”
“Ho-yun said he specifically bought the flavors you like.”
For some reason, his nose began to tingle. He wanted to go to Ho-yun right now and apologize for acting childish, but his body remained stubbornly glued to the practice room floor.
“Are you going to keep the choreography as it is?”
“I’m not sure about that either. Like Ho-yun hyung said, it is dangerous.”
“I see.”
A gentle smile played on Seong-hyeon’s lips.
“Well, the anxiety will disappear on its own once you figure out the reason, so don’t be too impatient. Like I said before, Ho-yun must have had his own reasons for getting angry at you.”
“...”
“So, he’s not that bad of a guy... well, okay. He’s a bit hopeless and sometimes I wonder if he’s actually insane, but he’s not that closed-off.”
“...?”
“Watch Ho-yun’s reaction during the performance tomorrow.”
Da-jun, his eyebrows still drooping, kept munching on the donut held in both hands.
The sight, so typical of The Dawn’s maknae, made Seong-hyeon burst into laughter.
“He’s the type you like precisely because he’s so annoying, after all.”