Archive of Our Own

"I guess we'll keep this footage to ourselves," Ichae says.

Dajun peers over the sofa headrest to see what he's looking at. The laptop in his lap broadcasts their practice room in crisper quality than Dajun's own eyes can handle when he's there in-person. It's everything to the left side of the room: the practice mats, the mirrors, the scarf Dajun forgot the last time he'd been there in his flurrying escape of Jiwon's practice-machine might.

On screen, Joo Woosung is waving a stick. 

Dajun blinks. Squirms closer, planting his chin on Ichae's shoulder. "What? He's not hitting hyung with that, is he?"

"Dajun-ah, it was the other way around."

"Well, that's fine then," Dajun decides under his breath, and Ichae's laugh jogs him off-balance, so with a muttered hey! he circles around to find his place on the cushion. Ichae tilts the screen back so he can get a better look. 

"I installed the camera a week ago," Ichae says. "Not to say that this is the content I've been looking for, but," he flicks hair out of his eyes, "it's the most damning footage I've gotten."

"What's it for?"

"Seo Hoyun's birthday montage," Ichae replies, face ceremonious, voice less so. "We're getting an hour long reel of his behavior to broadcast across the studio wall."

"A movie!"

Ichae winks. "Exactly!"

Dajun can already see it in his mind's eye: Hoyun, chewing on cream cake, confronting the montage with a straight face, the rest of the Dawn equally stone-faced around him. It's a bit of an awful image, now that he's considering it. But--if they can fluster him for even a second, it'll be worth it. 

"How is it so far?"

Ichae's grin sharpens. "Haha. He's working hard, this guy. I have to go at this with a chainsaw instead of shears," and as if to prove his point, the Hoyun on-screen wrests away what Dajun now identifies as a coffee straw and drives it deep into Joo Woosung's drink. The movement is so harsh their sunbae's entire body wobbles.

You hit me with that! Joo Woosung protests.

Hoyun totters off to switch on the music. Says, It's all the same. Your skin, your spit. What's the big deal?

"Wow," Dajun sighs. It's amazing in a way that isn't amazing at all. Ichae hooks him close by his shoulders and presses his cheek mournfully into his hair.

"Imagine," he says. "Five hours of that. That's what I'm going to have to edit."

"I'll help!"

"Root through my collection with me. Keep watch!" 

Ichae deposits his computer in Dajun's lap and Dajun marvels at the odd weight of an entire little world between his hands. So different from watching their recordings back. Hoyun and Joo Woosung are moving in real time, as real people.

You're doing this on purpose, says Joo Woosung. He's kneading his brow; Dajun only ever sees him do that in Hoyun's vicinity. I know that you can do this much, at least. Don't degrade yourself to degrade me.

Hoyun, catching his breath, bent halfway with his hands on his knees, replies, Only poor teachers make excuses like that. 

Dajun places the laptop on the tea table and curls up against his arm of the sofa. See, he's learned from all their battles, whether that be his and Ichae's attempts to catch Hoyun off guard, Hoyun's war with Today, Hoyun's war with TEW, Hoyun's war(?) with Min Jiheon, Hoyun's war with their own planning...managers...wow...in any case, Hoyun isn't a person who makes his discoveries known unless it unsteadies his opponent's state of mind. Ichae, especially, is someone he prefers to frighten at the very end.

"I'm sure you know where the camera is," Dajun says out loud. In tandem, Joo Woosung cries, Why don't you just resign and become a mannequin?

"What was that?"

Jiwon calls out from the hall, stepping out of his shoes. Their convenience tote swings from his elbow. 

Dajun says, "I was talking to Hoyun-hyung," then urges him to sit down, patting the cushion to his left. 

Jiwon presses a Melona into his hands as he settles in. Dajun really loves him. The peel is sticky as he pulls it open, the scent of gently melted honeydew cools the air. He licks his fingers twice before remembering he's supposed to be safeguarding Ichae's laptop...aha.

Jiwon's head tilts. "Isn't this a camera feed? Can he hear you?"

"Noo," Dajun tries, peeking at him from the corner of his eye. "I mean. Yes, he can't hear me. Ichae-hyung's birthday surprise--this is--this is Kang Ichae's laptop!"

"Did I just get sold out?" 

Dajun whips around and shields his ice cream. Ichae pops in from around the corner, already jogging back with his phone in hand. His grin is bright and leering. "What's this? When did Seong Jiwon learn how to bribe people?"

"I didn't know it was a bribe," Jiwon muses. 

"Whoa~! That's what we call natural talent."

Dajun shuffles to make space. Ichae vaults over the headrest to perch himself on the sofa arm, and in the same beat fakes a grab for his ice cream. Dajun, astonished, sways back; his head collides with Jiwon's shoulder. The both of them choke a little trying to sit upright. In the midst of their struggle Ichae nabs the tote bag to search for a snack.

"Let's be thankful this isn't a video call," Jiwon tells Dajun, as if he has anything to worry about. Dajun, patting his hair flat, sighs at him.

Poor Seonghyun was pelted with Pavlov's dog! Pavlov's dog! for a week after the baby incident. Jiwon was fussed over after bumping his nose! Dajun still sees and hears it in ultra HD detail, Hoyun's face dark with temper, the rust in his voice as he said tell me what happened. It was funny. More than that, Dajun was pleased. But, ah. About the teasing, he can't really complain either.

"How much of the footage features Seonghyun-hyung?" he asks.

Ichae, chewing on a boiled egg, swallows. Says, "About half, maybe?"

Yeah. Their poor Kim Seonghyun...

Dajun resolves to call him after finishing his ice cream. The protagonist of their birthday movie should be present for its production. 

On screen, Joo Woosung demonstrates a turn, twist, a hip thrust.

Hoyun, nodding, says, I missed the angle. Do it again.

What? How did you miss it?

Joo Woosung does it again.

Joo Woosung, do it again. I blinked.

What the hell?

Well! There's another contender for protagonist. 

"Are we treating this as a movie?" Jiwon asks, after their world-renowned colleague is forced to thrust his hips for the fourth time. "Hoyun doesn't seem to...ah, at least he's speaking comfortably."

"We're making a movie," Ichae corrects. "This is the collection stage. And this here," he waves at the suffering face of a top idol, "is twenty-four karat gold. Doesn't evidence of Woosung-sunbaenim's stickiness make hyung more sour than ever? Speaking of collection," he tap-tap-taps at his phone in Dajun's ear. Scowling, Dajun bats at him, but stupid Ichae moves too nimbly to get hit. He hops towards the table to mess with the laptop; when he's finished, hands coming away in a dramatic unveiling, the screen is split.

"Oh," says Jiwon. The tone of a man who doesn't know what to say. "Two cameras."

Ichae clicks his tongue. "Two angles."

Dajun starts gnawing on the popsicle stick. Jiwon won't get upset about this. None of them do, not over things like filming or teasing or content for the Noeuls--but Dajun has these two ticking bombs on either side of him staring at Seo Hoyun, the combustible lighter himself--is it wrong for his chest to be tight? It is, isn't it?

Hoyun acts the most recklessly when the Dawn isn't around. Even Dajun knows this by now, however nobly the others tried to shield him. What he doesn't know is when his understanding of Seo Hoyun began to unravel. The steel was nylon after all--as susceptible to fire as anything, anyone else. And Dajun doesn't know if he's supposed to be grateful that he's learned this much, because of course he's glad to know more. To be given this much. To be trusted with it.

Because he's also scared all the time. Scared Hoyun will trip. Scared when he coughs, scared when he doesn't answer his phone on the first ring even though that's a given with someone like him. Scared, because it's hollowing, to admit a darker thought: that he'd assumed Ichae installed the camera for a different reason than this.

Jiwon's careful expression, after a moment, evens out into one of relief.

Dajun sucks on the stick to ease the sudden cavity in his chest. The wood tastes bitter. He thinks: Jiwon-hyung, isn't that too obvious? And keeps it to himself.

"How long will the final product be?"

"Anything past an hour and he really might snap. So to ensure the safety of our group's irreplaceable hottie--"

Dajun yelps. "Why would he go after me?!"

"--watch yourself, Jeong Dajun. Yeah, one hour. But hyung, that's our problem. You get it, don't you?"

Jiwon's smile is wry. "There's too much content?"

Ichae clicks his tongue again. "Yes!"

These two have great comedic timing, Dajun thinks, watching Hoyun roll onto his back. He's staring up at the ceiling. Joo Woosung, scrubbing the sweat from his brow, face refreshed, turns around to find that his observer only had eyes for the sky.

Joo Woosung storms over. From what Dajun can see, the tips of his toes graze Hoyun's hair. Should I just leave? I should just leave, shouldn't I!

You're easier than usual today.

Is that so? I'm easy? Should I ease you out the door, then?

This is the Daepaseong practice room...you're supposed to leave first.

"He's really working him up," Ichae comments. Dajun glances at him, finds his expression almost pitying. "To the point that, hm, filming Joo Woosung is. How should I say this? I feel kind of awkward."

"It worries me that you're only reflecting on this now," Jiwon tells him.

"Don't! Don't worry! We won't post anything without consulting him. This is the bastard harassment campaign. He's a devoted contributor to the cause, a key member. Our cool vice president."

"Is he cooler than the president?"

"If I answer that I'll be publicly executed."

Dajun listens to them chatter until the woodsy flavor in his mouth tastes like eraser shavings. He excuses himself, satisfied with the atmosphere he's leaving behind. And after depositing his trash, turns on his phone.

Seonghyun picks up immediately.

[Jeong Dajun?]

"Hyung! Where are you?"

There's the sound of crinkling. Dajun catalogues the noise into three possibilities: one, Seonghyun has snuck away to eat. Two, Seonghyun has taken up a craft hobby. Three, Seonghyun really went on a convenience run.

Before Seonghyun can reply, Dajun interrupts, "Did you not run into Jiwon-hyung on your way there?"

[Oh. Jiwon was out?]

"I'm not going to say no to twice the snacks," Dajun starts, lowering his tone, coy, his most earnest emulation of Hoyun. This is the Seonghyun-bullying voice. He receives another muffled [Oh,] in return. 

[I didn't see him,] says Seonghyun. [Did he just get back?]

Dajun has to get better at impressions. "Yes," he replies obediently, and it's right then that there's a beep at the door, the click of locks unlatching. It swings open to reveal Seonghyun, fumbling his keycard back into his pocket. He has a plastic bag in his other hand. Dajun spots the rectangular outline of a Melona bar sculpting the base of it, and, after shooting his two other members a cursory glance, puffs out his chest and stalks forth to claim his prize.

Seonghyun steps back. "Did Jiwon already get you one?"

Ugh, his own folly! If only he'd waited just two minutes longer..!

"It's winter," says Seonghyun. His reproachful gaze falls to his own plastic bag. "You danced well today, so I thought you could have one. Two in one day is excessive."

Rejected and lectured both....!

"Welcome back," Jiwon calls. He sits up to look at them from over the headrest. "I was wondering where you--Dajun? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says. Behind him, Seonghyun unloads his purchases into the fridge. 

Dajun's given up on estimating where the second camera might be located on their studio wall by the time Seonghyun turns on the TV. 

"Isn't this more exhilarating than anything you can find on there?" Ichae complains. 

On screen, Hoyun is dying. The situation is less dire than it is under Jiwon's iron fist, perhaps because an irritated face is less demoralizing than an angelic one. Drive fueled by spite is easier to comprehend, so Dajun feels comfortable entrusting Joo Woosung with Hoyun.

Seonghyun, flipping between broadcasts, says, "You aren't even watching it yourself."

He's right. Ichae is on his phone. 

"That's because I'm working," he replies, and tap-tap-taps in Dajun's ear again--this time, Dajun manages to swat his wrist before he can escape. The image on the phone, for the brief moment he has an eyeful, is unmistakable.

"That's me," he says. "When was that?"

Ichae leans down as if to whisper in his ear. His mouth opens: it's his stage voice, and it bursts Dajun's eardrum like a balloon. "BANGBANG-AH."

"Why!" Dajun shrieks, shoving his head away. Ichae's hair tangles into his fingers, and in trying to dislodge himself he almost takes a few strands with him. "Ow, ow," Ichae squawks, smile contorting. "Okay, I get it!" He throws himself back once free, carding a hand through his hair like he's posing for an MV. Stares down at Dajun as if deeply wronged, a nauseatingly perfect replica of Min Seungtae's heartfelt pain.

To Dajun's far left, Seonghyun switches to MBC TV.

Dajun rubs his ear. He shouldn't scowl too much. He'll get frown lines before he turns twenty-two. "Also, that doesn't narrow it down at all."

Ichae's face goes thoughtful. "Bangbangie and baby both have it rough. How about this?"

He clears his throat. The voice that next fills the room is soft and sticky and fluffy. "Bangbang-ah, hyung is sorry."

An interruption: "I can't hear the TV."

"Hyung. Is. So. Sorry," Ichae tells Seonghyun, who frowns right back. "What. Should. Hyung. Do. To. Make. It. Better?"

Hoyun doesn't talk like that unless he's mocking them or pissed at Ichae. Dajun tries to summon any recent memory of setting him off, but the year has been a blur; too much of it sanded over by gratitude for Hoyun's...continued survival...what a troublesome guy. 

"Oh!" Dajun remembers. "Last week, during practice!"

Jiwon twitches as if startled, eyes peeling off Ichae's laptop. His dedication to practice can even be fitted to long-distance, Dajun notes. Ignoring the suddenly uncertain future, he says, "When he bumped into me during my break and spilled my water."

Ichae cuts off the volume competition he'd been having with Seonghyun's drama. "Do you want to watch the video now?"

"Huh? No, not really."

"Let's play it!"

Ichae holds the volume bar on his phone until the crackle of his unsteady camera-hand overpowers the television. It's not much of a waste. The show is bland, a rerun, and Dajun knows Seonghyun only turned it on to pull his attention away from Ichae's suspicious film project. 

("You shouldn't disrespect our sunbae this way. Kang Ichae, turn it off before he finds out."

"Hey, there's another victim you haven't mentioned at all."

"What?"

"What, he says. That's crazy."

"No? No, that's not what I meant."

"He doesn't respect that one. There's so little respect that he can't even think of him as a victim.")

Dajun's thoughts drift without direction until he hears his own voice screech out, "IT'S COLD."

"Good lungs for a good dancer," Ichae says. His words are spliced by past-Dajun's shouting and the man gurgling for his last breaths on the television. "That one almost rivals Jiwon's high note!"

"Turn it off..."

Ichae shushes him. "Wait for it. The climax is coming."

"Can't you at least turn it down?"

"Shh! The climax!"

Dajun knows what the climax is.

After the practice room fell silent, Dajun, grumbling, toweled himself off. He didn't even have time to feel embarrassed before Hoyun spoke up:

"Don't you feel refreshed?"

He's shivering all over again just hearing it through the phone.

"This could be our centerpiece," Ichae says. He rolls the video back to the highlight once more. Dajun's grumbling, a beat, Hoyun. "They cut this out of our reel, but it's a waste to let it rot away. Our poor Dajun. Our tragic, mistreated youngest...! Seduced into thinking he was done a favor!"

"I wasn't seduced," Dajun begins, but Ichae's already replaying IT'S COLD, IT'S COLD, IT'S COLD like it's the chorus of his favorite song. One more round and Dajun's going to develop an especially scary strain of tinnitus.

"Hey! I really wasn't! Skip to the part where he had to beg for my forgiveness!"

"Does it count if you forgave him instantly?"

"Of course it does!"

Ichae smiles. "I didn't record it."

What is Dajun even supposed to say to that...?

There's one person who still knows what mercy is. "Let's settle down," Jiwon tells them, tapping Dajun's arm, and Ichae squeezes out two more of past-Dajun's yowlings before Jiwon says, "If you guys still have this much energy, shouldn't we go join Hoyun? He's working so hard on his own."

Ichae's phone vanishes. Dajun straightens his spine before realizing he's made himself look eager. He deflates and curls into the cave of Ichae's lap. Says, "I don't want to disrupt his focus."

"And he's not alone," says Ichae. From this angle Dajun can see the sage's aura radiating from his shiny face, his solemn tongue. "He has his fifth-best friend with him."

Jiwon's laugh is soft, but the interest is there. "Fifth best?"

"After the Dawn, he's fifth, and last. Yeah." Here Ichae nods, for some reason. "His circle should be like that."

Dajun forcibly drives the image of a dog prowling the length of its fence out of his mind, bewildered that he summoned it up at all. He's been having strange thoughts lately. 

"What was their couple nickname, anyway? Something like 'the Idol Friends,' or 'Only Idols?' Two men who only have their members and each other, right?"

Jiwon sounds a bit self-effacing when he says, "You and I could fit under that umbrella as well."

"Jiwon-hyung...."

Dajun squirms his upper body out of Ichae's lap when Ichae begins to mess with his hair. For a moment, situating himself is difficult. The TV is on, Ichae is chattering, and the laptop broadcasting Hoyun and Joo Woosung's learning struggle blares out cute noises once in a while, like how can someone be this shit at teaching? it's almost supernatural? and rip off that face of yours and give it to someone more deserving, please.

Through the blender of sound Dajun manages to catch the tail end of Seonghyun's sentence.

"--nner."

"--he'll be annoyed and put us all below the CEO if we make him rank us," Ichae is saying. "Actually, back at the start," face fixed into a smile, "Whenever he left to visit the CEO--"

He and Jiwon both turn at the crisp rap of Seonghyun's knuckles on the table. 

"Hey. Listen up, it's getting late. It's time to eat."

"Okay~! But aren't we good on that for tonight?"

Seonghyun blinks. His stare pins Ichae, first, then Dajun. Addressing Jiwon, "Did you buy dinner already?"

Uh oh. Jiwon's gaze coasts to their grocery bag. Dajun swallows, measuring the necessity of swooping in and hiding their trash food from Seonghyun's scrutiny. "Ah. Did you not?"

Then it's Seonghyun's turn to look embarrassed. "Nothing suitable for dinner. What did you buy?"

"I wouldn't call it suitable either. What did you...?"

The answer to both of their questions lie in Dajun's texts to them both, timestamped two hours prior.

>[buy me a snack!!!! please!!!]

When Seonghyun, who was already out, didn't read the message, Dajun re-sent it to Jiwon. He'd forgotten to unsend and by the time he checked back the message was read and replied to. At that point, would it have been worth it to clarify his mistake? What if he was too late and they were both already on their way? Wasn't it better to bask in the fortune of having twice the trash food instead?

Yeah, it was better. He made the right decision. Dajun can't look at either of them, though, because his pulse pounds in his ear when he does, so he opens his mouth to say something to Ichae--only to be struck still by the look on his face. A look that says, wow. You're twenty-one years old. Dajun's mouth clicks shut.

Ichae speaks up loud enough to draw everyone's attention in an instant. "Let's just tell Hoyun-hyung to pick something up on his way back here."

This plan is lauded with praise from all sides, Dajun's agreement the loudest of all. 

Jiwon volunteers. He tugs his jacket edge out from where Dajun had been sitting on it, pops the pocket button, pulls it open, pulls his phone out, turns it on, and: the screen remains black.

Bemused: "Never mind. I don't have any battery."

A long arm extends past Dajun's face, phone at the end of it like a gyeonji rod. Dajun resists the urge to sneeze when the cotton sleeve skims his nose.

"Use this," says Ichae, magnanimous. 

Jiwon accepts with a laugh. "Thank you."

Dajun watches him open their group chat instead of Hoyun's personal chat. Jiwon tends to type cleanly, so when the words in the text bar come out as >[hey you at the practice room! buy food] Dajun assumes he's made a typo. Since it's funny, he doesn't point it out, but Jiwon hits send without second thought.

Ichae hops onto his feet to amplify the laptop volume. "Here on today's Seo Hoyun documentary, we'll examine the reaction of the most remorselessly dry texter in the world~! What face does he make upon seeing Seong Jiwon's kind request appear under Ichae's na--?" Ichae retrieves his phone, checks the text. "Hyung, you didn't sign it? And what's with this tone?"

Jiwon's smile is pleased. "I thought I should text like Ichae."

"Why is your vision of Ichae so rude...?"

"I did my best with what I could reference above it," Jiwon replies, and it's a response so earnest that Ichae can only weep and bear it. 

It's the first time all four of them have gathered to examine the screen so keenly. Even Seonghyun, who did his best not to get involved before, shuffles close. Sure, everyone lives together. Sure, they never go a day without talking. But Hoyun's schedule is just! So! Packed! And his single-consonant replies either come immediately or two days late. What does he do when he receives a notification from the group chat?

When Hoyun staggers over to the folding table to reset the song, Joo Woosung trails after him, arms crossed. He looks like he's barely broken a sweat. In contrast to Hoyun, who wobbles on his feet, he shines like the top idol he is, glimmering in the studio mirrors; Seonghyun's eyes are shining too.

What time are you heading back? Won't the others be waiting for you?

Hoyun swipes up to see the notification on his phone. 

No one's waiting.

The sighs are immediate.

"Whoa! This bastard!"

Oh, Dajun's having a hard time describing the look on Ichae's face. He's laughing, of course, because this kind of shameless frigidity from Hoyun has become a running joke, but the slant of his eyes is a little strained. "He really doesn't get it."

"Get it?" Dajun asks.

Ichae's eyes curve before Dajun can think further about what that might have meant. An arm sweeps over his shoulders. Ichae bends halfway to drop his cheek on Dajun's head, and Dajun can't see his face anymore. "That Seo Hoyun had to suck up to your Ichae-hyung for a while, remember?"

How could Dajun forget? Before the terror that was his birthday, he really didn't know what to do about the sudden winter between them. He assumed that Hoyun was shocked into an awkward obedience by his three-day imprisonment, but there were other things to consider, too. Dajun left that stupid, flippant hyung for only a moment and came back to find Ichae and Jiwon standing over him, at each others' throats. It was Hoyun who looked shaken. 

Dajun does get it. He felt the same. Jiwon has seven years worth of stories trailing at his heels and still, it was different, to see him wear a knife for a tongue, to see him use it on Ichae. Ichae's expression vacates when he's angry, but on that day it was something worse than anger, wasn't it? Something stricken about him. Something red and sore.

It was good to see Hoyun cautious for once, even if it didn't last long. Dajun did his best to comfort and scare him both, though by the second time he told him, if this happens again we'll really have to lock you up forever! Hoyun stopped frowning and only cooed back, the hospital is kicking me out soon. Where to now, Dajun? Your room?

Dajun was annoyed, but he kept it to himself. Just live healthy, he thought. So long as you're healthy, I won't be upset with you.

"He thinks that anything can be solved by gifting you nice things, being polite about distance. Waiting for it all to blow over. But something as simple as this," Ichae huffs, cutting himself off, and Dajun feels it, the soft burst of air on his scalp; is warmed by it. Even this kind of frustration is sweet. "Bangbangie, shouldn't we teach him some manners?"

"What a strange obligation to assign to the youngest," Dajun muses. "If this got out, he'd be scolded by the Noeuls."

"I know you're kidding, but...no, this is the kind of flaw his fans adore..."

The ringing of a song overture crackles out of the laptop. Jiwon asks if he should call, this time, but Hoyun is already moving, hands in his pockets, to the center of the room.

This is the last time, he says.

Joo Woosung follows him. What? You're already worn out? 

I'm just tired of your face, sunbae.

Why do you only address me properly when the rest of the sentence is cruel? It's weirdly perverted.

Dajun's cheeks ache with his smile. It's too violent to restrain. He feels silly, because it's dramatic, but it's both the warmth of watching something cute and the feeling of Ichae's weight on him loosening, ever so slightly. 

"We didn't ask him for anything specific," Seonghyun says, sounding troubled. 

"If he brings back trash, we'll just starve for tonight," Ichae reassures him. Dajun's whole head vibrates under the hum of his voice.

Whenever it's Hoyun's turn to comb the convenience, he returns with tuna kimbap for Dajun, paired with an absentminded chiding about his eating habits. Dajun treasures these both, because it's a marker of where they're at, now, that they can consider such things treats instead of all they can afford.

"What...? No, we won't. I'm not talking about that. When he's out with sunbaenim, he only eats kimchi fried rice."

"But that's for appearances' sake, isn't it?"

"I don't think he dislikes it."

"So we're eating it again today? Is that bad?"

"We're supposed to be avoiding fermented foods."

"Aw, hyung, our manager's out for tonight. You can ease up on being the most filial son--"

They're interrupted when Jiwon suddenly leans forward, body cutting into the space between them. The screech of shoes slipping. A thud.

"Um."

Hoyun is sitting on the ground, staring at his own ankle. Joo Woosung's hands are braced against his shoulders.

Hey, Seo Hoyun! Sit down, just stay down. Don't try to get up.

Even through the screen it's obvious. The line of his body strains tight.

It isn't sprained. I just tripped.

Ah, what the heck!!! Liar!!!! Dajun almost jumps up to protest at the one-way video call before stuttering to a stop. All too aware of the red-headed beast curled up above him, whose chest is rising and falling at a normal pace. His breathing sounds even. 

"Huh," says Ichae.

Inexplicably, Dajun feels...like a dragon egg.

"We should call," Jiwon says, reaching for his phone. He's forgotten about his lack of battery already, evident when he taps, hurried, and the screen remains black. Brow knitted, he sets it back down and looks to Ichae, then Seonghyun. 

Ichae, still draped over Dajun's head, says, "Give it a moment."

His voice is light, unreadable. 

"What?"

Dajun despairs. His one saving grace: he can't see Ichae's face right now. 

"Just long enough to see if he calls us first," Ichae clarifies. 

Jiwon says something else that Dajun doesn't catch. So does Seonghyun, who's biting his lip. Dajun watches Joo Woosung usher Hoyun towards the wall, supporting him by the elbow.

Sit down, he says. Hoyun bats away his hands, for some reason intent on standing. Joo Woosung hisses out a curse. Hoyun turns away like he's rolling his eyes.

Ichae withdraws from Dajun's space, leaning back against the sofa headrest. His arms cross. Dajun wonders if he should break the silence with a joke, but his own head is already bursting at the seams: Hoyun-hyung, won't you ever live safely??

I have two legs, says Hoyun, bland. Did you know that? It's on my wiki-page.

You need to get your head checked. What's the point of fighting me on every single thing I say? Are you that desperate to put me down? Hey. Do you remember the card I gave you? Did you ever even--

It isn't sprained, Hoyun snaps, and kicks out with his right leg. The impact isn't audible, so Dajun's sure he didn't kick hard, but Joo Woosung's shoulders jump. The wheat of his hair shimmers under the cheap studio light.

I should really just kill you, he says, after a moment, sounding exhausted.

"Two more minutes," Ichae says. To Jiwon or Seonghyun, Dajun isn't sure. It makes him nervous all the same, because through almost two years with Hoyun he's learned this much: he never does what he's supposed to.

Hey, how are you going to get back?

I'll hitch a ride on your back.

Call one of your members, brat. You're done for today. Go home.

Where are the paparazzi when you need them? Black Call's Joo Woosung is abusing his juniors...

You're my junior. Call someone.

Yeah, call....! Call already, Hoyun-hyung!! Someone next to Dajun is about to explode!

"I think he's just embarrassed," Jiwon tries. The discussion on the screen looks like it's going nowhere. Joo Woosung, having given up on forcing Hoyun to sit, has him braced against the wall. One hand on Hoyun's shoulder as if to keep him still.

"I'll walk him back," Seonghyun says, already making to stand. Dajun glances at Ichae, whose gaze is fixed to the screen. He's waiting. Dajun thinks, privately, that he's trying his best not to look hopeful. 

Seonghyun pauses when Hoyun says, I can walk just fine. 

He pushes Joo Woosung away, canting to the side. He walks, despite the hand that lurches out to catch him. Joo Woosung takes a step back, and Dajun can only see the back of his head but that's totally irritation, right? He's irritated too?

Hoyun's hands splay open: tada. Joo Woosung shakes his head.

Dance.

....What?

Prove that you're fine. The music's still on. Your part's coming up.

"Can he?" Seonghyun asks. He comes up from behind the sofa. His hand on the headrest brushes Dajun's neck. Dajun, who had been counting down two minutes, jolts.

Hoyun's expression, bland even through the camera, begins to darken. I said I was finished.

It's an ultimatum, Joo Woosung tells him. Dance, or I call someone for you.

Hoyun doesn't move.

Are you going to tell your group? 

Hoyun's expression says: obviously.

Then I won't see you practicing for the next two days, right?

Do you want me to dance or not?

Then try it out. Your part's here.

Hoyun doesn't move. Joo Woosung makes a sound like a scoff. If you're not even going to try, that tells me all I need to know. Sit down. I know it hurts.

He picks up Hoyun's phone from the folding table. The music cuts off.

Catch, he says, and Hoyun does. 

A voice in Dajun's ear makes him jump. "Should we make a bet?"

Ichae's grinning at him.

"Loser does the dishes for the next four days, how about it?"

What...there's no winning here. Dajun's shift was just yesterday...?

"Do I get to go first," Dajun asks, suspicious.

Ichae's smile widens. "Sure."

As Hoyun lackadaisically raises his phone to his ear, Dajun blurts out, "He's calling! I bet that he'll call!"

I tripped during practice, Hoyun says, and Dajun only has a few seconds to enjoy the high of winning when he realizes: to who? Dajun looks around. Everyone's hands are empty. Ichae's smile is still wide. Jiwon looks like he's watching his child fail his school festival performance. Yeah. It'll be healed in a week or so. Yep. See you.

He tucks his phone into his pocket.

Show it to me, says Woosung.

Hoyun's incredulous stare pierces through the screen, but no, seriously...he's the one who deserves to make that face the least.

"Um," says Dajun, into the silence. "I didn't say who he'd call."

"Jeong Dajun!" Ichae salutes. "In advance, thank you! For your service!"

"No! That's so unfair!"

Arguing with Ichae propels his blood pressure to unprecedented heights, so while he's trying to soothe the burn of letting his guard down by taking it out on Ichae's back, he almost misses the moment Jiwon leans forward again, surprised at whatever's happening on-screen.

--that scared of being benched? All you have to do is stay out of practice for a week.

That's not what I'm saying.

Then show me who you called.

What's with this overreaction?

Are you kidding me? Fine, then. What will you give me to keep my mouth shut?

What? Did Dajun skip an episode?

Cornered, Hoyun only tilts his head, hair swaying over his eyes. What, he says. Really?

Really. Are you going to buy me dinner? Buy me a week's worth of coffee?

Hoyun's mouth curves. It's withering. Wow~! What could Black Call's Joo Woosung possibly want? Is there anything he doesn't already have? 

Woosung leans in, arm braced against the wall, hardly an inch from Hoyun's head. 

I don't know, he says, voice low. Actually, he sounds pissed. How about your body?

Wow. These guys...

Next to Dajun, still half-shoved off the sofa arm, Ichae snorts into his fist. Jiwon sighs, for some reason.

It's Seonghyun Dajun feels the worst for, even if he can't see his face. Seonghyun, who admires Joo Woosung so much. Dajun knows little about him. He's Hoyun's friend, a top celebrity, and someone who lends them instruction at Hoyun's request. He's Seonghyun's ideal idol, which is what's important, and Seonghyun's ideal idol wouldn't drop guilty lines like a trashy romcom third lead because Seonghyun suffers enough of those from Hoyun himself!

"I bet," Dajun says, quickly, "Hoyun-hyung's going to say something worse!"

"Don't make a bet without betting anything."

The brief irritation that flares in him at the rejection is culled when the silence drags on for longer than it should be.

Hoyun always has something to say. Even when he's brushing off a provocation he has a comment ready for deployment, something mild and annoying all the same. 

So what's with the look on his face? 

Come on, says Woosung, when the quiet begins to feel unsettling. You know what I'm talking about. 

Dajun wishes he were able to see his face, read his voice, but both angles only catch Hoyun, whose eyes are strangely immobile. This isn't a face Dajun has seen, before? He doesn't know what it means.

So when Joo Woosung says, to an unresponsive Hoyun, I know you're familiar with I'm saying, Dajun has the strangest feeling: the room he's in seems to have dropped in temperature.

The static of distance worsens with the cooling atmosphere. Hoyun opens his mouth to say something in a harsh, hushed tone, but the sound ebbs and crackles until Dajun can only hear....not in here...don't...

Seonghyun's voice: "He'll need help getting back if it's sprained."

And that's all he says before he's out the door, armed without his phone or jacket--"Seonghyun!" Jiwon calls out, but the slow beep of the automatic lock is the only response.

"He moves so fast," Jiwon says, a little helplessly. "He didn't even take his phone."

"What! Why'd he run out so fast?"

"That's Kim Mandu for you," Ichae replies, tapping the side of Dajun's head. Dajun looks at him, surprised when he sees him getting up, unhooking his coat off the wall.

"You're going too?"

"Going after our long-legged friend," he hums, adjusting his hood. "I'm going to comfort him after he gets there and embarrasses himself."

"You mean you're going to embarrass him?"

"Your cutie Ichae would never do that~!"

"Ichae," says Jiwon. Ichae turns to him. It's only now that Dajun realizes he isn't smiling. Black coat, red hair, he's strangely small under the soft light, standing against a barren wall with a blank face.

"Be careful. Don't slip."

"Yessir!"

Jiwon's smile seems kind of tired. "I'm going to call him with Seonghyun's phone. Do you want to stay and hear what he has to say, first?"

"Hyung, I'm serious. I have to go save Kim Seonghyun. He'll start crying if I don't get there in time."

"Alright," says Jiwon. "Pick up if I call you."

Ichae nods, then says, to Dajun, "Keep it on." He jerks his head at his laptop. "Don't turn it off, okay?"

He's still thinking about his birthday project?!

"Wait, I'll come too!"

Ichae, already at the door, blinks. "You should stay."

Dajun can barely protest before Jiwon's hand brushes his sleeve, tugging him back. "Call him with me, Dajun?"

Dajun really feels like he's missing something. Ichae's gone by the time Jiwon picks up Seonghyun's abandoned phone, and the steady beeeeep of the lock sounds, to him, like the score of a cheesy drama cliffhanger.

When he finally looks back to the laptop, he finds both Joo Woosung and Hoyun leant against the wall. Hoyun's arms are crossed. They both look like they suffered tremendous spiritual death during the two minutes Dajun wasn't paying attention.

So, Woosung is saying. There's a record, now.

Yeah.

Yeah? Yeah?? You fool, why didn't you tell me from the start?

I haven't checked it yet. I know it isn't live. 

That's not comforting at all...you know why I'm worried, right? It's because you have the footage. Who knows what you're going to--

Hoyun taps his foot with his, a sharp interruption.

Fine, says Joo Woosung. Fine!

The strange mood from before is nowhere to be found. Relieved for a reason he can't quite place, Dajun asks, "Why did they both rush out like that? They're going to get teased for spying."

And they'll consequently get the rest of them teased, too. Dajun's thinking about all the ways he'll dodge Hoyun's taunting when Hoyun begins to walk up to one of the monitors. It's the lower one, the closest to the left side of the room.

This clock is so ugly it annoys me, Hoyun says, peering into the lens. 

It's in the elephant's eyes?!

The nostrils.

How did you know it was there?

This isn't Ichae's taste. Then, addressing the camera directly, Hey Kang Ichae. Turn this off. I'm taking the footage when I get back.

Hoyun unhooks the clock off the wall entirely and sets it face-down on the ground. That's one screen gone black, but the other remains.

Jiwon's eyes are fixed to the screen as he raises his phone to his ear.

Dajun hasn't said much to him since Seonghyun went barreling out the door for no reason, but when the phone begins to ring, Jiwon smiles at him, raising a finger to his lips. The call goes through.

[Seonghyun?]

"Hoyun-ah. It's Jiwon."

On screen, Hoyun is staring down at his phone. He looks at Joo Woosung, who shrugs.

[What's wrong? Why do you have Seonghyun's phone?]

Whatever Dajun had been expecting Jiwon to say, it wasn't: "Seonghyun and Ichae are going to meet you at the practice room."

Without pause, [Okay.]

Hoyun looks at Woosung again. Woosung scrubs a hand through his hair as if to say: told you so!

[Jiwon,] Hoyun says, after a moment. [You have Ichae's monitor with you, right? Can you check it?]

"Check it?"

[It should be open to a video feed. Tell me if there's anything other than a black screen.]

Jiwon doesn't move. Dajun asks, "What is he asking for?"

[Dajun, is that you?]

"Ah--yeah!"

[What did Ichae say to you?]

"Say to me? What do you mean?"

"Hoyun," Jiwon interjects. "I see what you're talking about. It's just a black screen."

Dajun stares at the laptop, which is very much not just a black screen.

[Nothing else?]

Oh, Dajun gets it! Hoyun hasn't even considered the possibility of Jiwon watching him right there with the rest of them. WOW.

"Yes, there's nothing else there."

Dajun's gaze ricochets. Jiwon, expression mild, smiles back.

"One more thing," Jiwon says, gently. "Ichae and Seonghyun were quite tense when they saw you were injured."

This is kind of amazing, Dajun thinks. You were the tensest of us all from the moment you heard familiar...

[What? I'm walking just fine. How long ago did they leave?]

"I think they'll be there soon."

[...Thanks. I'll see you both later.]

The call ends. 

"You didn't ask him anything," Dajun says, lacking any better words. "I thought--you were going to ask him--something! Anything!"

"I think it's better to ask him in person."

So you called him just to warn him?

They were watching, Hoyun says.

Seo Hoyun, you're really...

Not anymore. Someone's coming to pick me up.

It took a hidden camera to get this result! Was this whole thing a skit or something? I don't even know what to do with you.

Hoyun turns to him, then. He's saying something, because Dajun can see his mouth moving, but the quality of the remaining camera is worse. He can barely hear it.

Right, says Joo Woosung, after a moment. Of course it's like that.

Those are strange words, but stranger yet: Dajun feels like Joo Woosung says them fondly.

Hoyun got away with a lot when they didn't know him well. Because it isn't that Dajun hadn't wanted to care, it's that he didn't know how--not for a memory made blurry by a year's distance, a person he barely knew. He just didn't, and then he did, and now he does and he knows he might always, and Hoyun is four years his senior but that's what makes it worse, the fact that he worries, because how will he ever be taken seriously?

It feels good to be treated the way he is, to have Hoyun at his back. But he isn't a child, and he knows as well as anyone the shame of being so dependent on another person--the shame of fearing it'll be taken away.

Dajun knows that now more than ever the future is cracked open like a new wound, something as fresh and prone to infection as the desire to endure the unknown without fear. So it itches at him, a little bit. Curiosity with a mouth like eager little fleas.

Hoyun-hyung, he thinks, not for the first time. What are you looking for?

Seonghyun stumbles into the room, cheeks ruddy with cold, just as Joo Woosung is leaving.

Sunbae! he says, and bows.

Joo Woosung sidles around him, nodding, It's good to see you, and ducks out.

So it's as usual. Dajun's not sure what the big deal was, then!

Hoyun, scrolling his phone, doesn't look up as Seonghyun approaches him.

Seo Hoyun, says Seonghyun. Posture stiff, face turned. Has--

No, says Hoyun.

The instant reply forces Seonghyun to confront him directly. Shoulders tight, he says, You know what I'm--

No, never happened.

--I'm asking if--

Are you serious?

Seo Hoyun! I'm--

Kim Seonghyun! 

Well, Dajun hadn't been dreading Ichae's arrival to the studio, but he hadn't been looking forward to it either. Now he's hoping he'll get there faster for Seonghyun's sake. It's pitiful...

But Ichae walks in with a smile, shuts the door behind him. He walks up to them mid-conversation. Immediately pushes Hoyun down onto the ground. Then he crouches, and in the beat Hoyun spends looking like he's been stunned with a taser, rucks up Hoyun's pant leg and pulls off his shoe.

Whoa, what's this? says Ichae. Why is it so red? Hyung, did you know? I had a dream that you'd fall and break your ankle, but it really came true? 

I...Ichae...

Hoyun reaches out, sets a hand on Ichae's shoulder. 

Stop having strange dreams, he says blandly.

Well, says Ichae, undeterred. I think some warnings are necessary. You know? Dreams, for one. It's called a premonition. But I just had a feeling when I walked in that there was something wrong with you, so I checked on impulse--and wow, there's really something!

A premonition at the doorway?

Hoyun's pressing on as usual, but even Dajun can tell he's being careful.

That's exactly it! From the moment I reached the studio I had a feeling that I should check hyung's leg. Isn't that crazy?

Yeah, that's crazy, says Hoyun. 

The two of them stare at each other.

Crazy punk...

Am I? says Ichae, cheerfully. He jerks Hoyun's foot up higher. The sudden movement almost knocks Hoyun off balance. Seonghyun, to the side, shuffles in place.

Well.

Dajun's glad, actually, that he can't really see their faces right now. Next to him, Jiwon sighs.