Chapter 122

"Ah, Mrs. Kang. Right this way."

Youngin stepped carefully into the studio, Suho leading the way. The broadcast studio — her first one ever — was, surprisingly, smaller than she'd pictured.

"A bit chaotic, isn't it? Taping's about to start…. I'll set up a proper meeting with Hajin once it wraps."

"No, that's all right. He's working — I shouldn't be a distraction."

Even at Suho's careful offer, she shook her head. Youngin knew this place was Hajin's workplace, and that broadcasting was a world where you had to mind every word and gesture.

Today she'd only wanted to see Hajin and Hajin's stage. She had no intention of playing the class-parent showing up at her kid's school talent night.

"Ah, the kids are heading up now."

"Yes, I've already spotted Hajin."

"Already? Well, Hajin's tall — he does stand out."

"He always did. Since he was little, he was a head taller than the friends around him — at sports day and things like that, all I could see was Hajin."

Youngin smiled fondly, thinking back to Hajin as a boy.

Even if Hajin had been the same height as everyone else, though, Youngin would have picked her son out before anyone else, any time, anywhere.

But the styling's different from last time on air, isn't it?

Youngin thought that as she watched Hajin walk out onto the stage.

Unlike Miro Maze, where he'd worn a plain, full-set school uniform, on the stage today Hajin looked a bit like a delinquent.

A bandage stuck to one cheek, the uniform shirt with every button undone, and layered under it a black graphic tee. Shirt sleeves roughly pushed up, a sports band on his wrist, and on top of the tee a cross necklace catching just the right amount of light.

The Hajin standing there — looking like he was about to finish lunch and go tearing out onto the schoolyard — was, ironically, awfully close to the Hajin she remembered from his school days.

He used to go around looking exactly like that.

It felt strange, all over again, that Hajin was already twenty, that almost half a year had gone by.

Nearly that long, too, since the Hajin she'd thought had completely given up on his singer's dream had persuaded her and her husband that he wanted to be an idol trainee again.

And in those six or so months, Hajin had climbed up onto a music-show stage like this one and was performing a stage of his own.

"Alright, we're going into taping! Everyone quiet, please!"

At someone's voice, the inside of the studio quickly settled.

On stage, she could see Hajin whispering something to each of the other dongsaengs, one by one. The members who'd heard him nodded, or answered with a small smile.

Somehow, that put Youngin at ease. It looked like Hajin was doing what he always did.

"But do they just start right in like that? Wasn't it Haru who kicked the stage off originally?"

"Ah — that part gets shot separately, after this taping."

"So they'll edit it in afterward. Makes sense — a live competition and a taping are different animals."

Watching the Sad-Ending team fall straight into formation, Youngin puzzled and asked; Suho explained it kindly. Youngin nodded as if it clicked.

For someone at a broadcasting station for the first time, she had a surprisingly solid grasp of how the industry worked. When Suho looked over at her, slightly taken aback, she caught the look and answered with a smile.

"Hajin chatters on about all of it whenever he calls. Hear it enough times and you start being able to pass yourself off."

"Ahh. Right — that's why you know so much. Ah, Mrs. Kang, there's a monitor over that way. It'll show what the cameras are catching for broadcast, but I imagine watching the stage directly from here would be easier for you, right?"

"Mmm…. yes. Today I'd like to just watch the stage."

Suho pointed at the artist-side PGM monitor and asked. Since a music show ultimately came down to what made it onto camera, managers usually watched this PGM monitor and gave overall stage feedback from there.

But because Hajin wouldn't always be the one on camera, Suho was thoughtful enough to steer Youngin toward watching Hajin on the stage directly rather than the monitor.

"Right, so you can watch the stage from here. I've got to head over there to monitor. Enjoy it, Mrs. Kang."

"Yes, thank you, Team Lead."

"Not at all. If anything, I'm the one who should thank you, for trusting us with Hajin."

Suho answered with a smile. Then, just before turning toward the PGM monitor, he added one quiet line for her.

"Hajin really is fantastic. When you see him, you're going to be proud."

At Suho's compliment, delivered with real sincerity, Youngin answered with that trademark breezy smile of hers.

"I'm always proud of Hajin."

The instant he heard that, Suho was sure.

That through everything he'd gone through, the reason Hajin had always been able to take that one last step was because of this person.

Even without much conversation yet, Suho could be certain of it.

"…I'll see you later, then."

"Yes. Don't worry about me — go do your work."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kang."

Suho turned his steps toward the PGM monitor.

Left alone now, Youngin looked back up at Hajin on the stage. A slate came around, and a familiar purple LED and lighting filled the stage.

A brief silence.

Then the intro to 'To You I Declare' — one she'd heard so many times by now that she could sing along — burst out.

This is the letter I'm sending to you, the one I loved—

Youngin's large eyes held only one person in them.

In that instant, countless memories swept quickly around her.

Seven-year-old Hajin's first talent-night stage.

His first musical, at the children's theater troupe.

His first competition alongside his fellow trainees.

The first school-festival talent show he'd put together with his friends.

Countless of Hajin's 'first stages.'

Today, once again, she was taking in one of Hajin's 'first stages.'

And that fact filled her with gratitude and happiness.

—Music, dance, art? In a family with no money? Hajin's mom, you're too soft on the world.

—If he does that and it doesn't work out, what's the boy going to do to make a living later? Honestly, how many people actually make it as singers….

—Doesn't it worry you? Who raises kids like that these days?

The countless voices she'd heard raising Hajin and Hawon.

Between one just-another-day and the next, sometimes,

catching hold of time that only ever seemed to crawl, sometimes,

over the top of it all, Hajin's gentle, warm tone would settle in.

The child up there, singing and smiling like he was happier than anyone in the world, was more radiant than anything else.

Youngin, in fact, wanted to ask them back.

A child who shone like that on a stage — how, exactly, was she supposed to not cheer him on?

—Mom, sometimes. My unremarkable future scares me. That you might be disappointed.

—So I'll do something else. Not the maybe-thing. The thing I'm good at.

"When he's this good, though…."

To the Hajin who'd said those things — she'd wanted to tell him.

That he had always been good, had always done well, and that he had never once disappointed her.

"You're doing so well, my son."

So this time, she'd tell him for sure.

That wherever the end of this challenge pointed, mom was proud of every step he'd made.

Nose stinging, Youngin held back the emotion welling up and watched Hajin's stage.

---

—Okay, Sad-Ending team, we'll move on to intro/outro now!

"Thank you!"

—Yes, good work~

They ended up recording three takes in total.

Not because of any mistake by the team — the main PD, whether it was ambition or something else, kept asking for one more thing after another, and that was how it went.

Still, I'd say we did pretty well for it?

Hajin, taking a tissue from a makeup staffer and laying it against his forehead, caught his breath.

This was actually a rough setup that included a wardrobe change up on the stage — peaceful for the viewer, murder for the performers. The delinquent-uniform look from earlier was long gone; at some point Hajin had ended up in the proper-suit second-verse outfit.

Loosening the necktie that had been strangling him, Hajin popped the top buttons of the stifling shirt open the rest of the way.

"Guys. Good work, good work."

Once they'd come down backstage, the new manager handed out hand-fans to the trainees along with words of encouragement. Lee Yugeon, apparently intent on earning what he was being paid, stayed dutifully at his side, distributing water bottles to the trainees.

Haru, taking a small bottle from Yugeon, went so far as to twist off the cap on the spot and gulp the water down.

"Dan Haru, slow down. You'll choke."

"Ghk!"

"See! I told you, kid!"

The second Yugeon — who'd been watching Haru uneasily — got a word in, Haru coughed and spilled water. Taehyun quickly grabbed some tissues, and while he checked Haru's makeup and outfit, Hajin gazed absently up at the stage.

Up on the stage, they were resetting for Haru's intro/outro shoot. PDs with cue-sheet clipboards, switching between intercom and walkie-talkie, moving around — it struck him fresh, seeing it all.

"Hyung."

"……."

"Hajin-hyung!"

"…huh? What."

"What are you thinking about. Come on."

"Ah. Yeah. Let's go."

At Taehyun's voice calling him, Hajin snapped out of his thoughts.

Now, truly, this side was where he belonged.

And only now was that landing for real — which left Hajin feeling a little strange.

---

With Haru's shoot about to start, the Sad-Ending team had to head back to the waiting room for the time being.

But Haru was whining a bit about being nervous alone, and the other kids clearly wanted to watch Haru's shoot up close too.

So in the end, the ones actually heading back to the waiting room were just Hajin and Jaeyoung.

"Hajin-hyung, why aren't you watching my stage!"

"My cut split open, I've gotta go put a fresh bandage on. It's a quick shoot for you anyway, right?"

"But still…. Then what about Jaeyoung?"

"Jaeyoung's so nervous he's dizzy right now. I'm gonna lay him down for a bit, so go do a good job."

"Okay…."

"Taehyun and Jayden are with you, and I'm leaving Lee Yugeon here too, so don't lose your nerve."

"…? I was going to head to the waiting room too…?"

"Mm. Nope. You're staying here."

Yugeon, who'd been about to head off to the waiting room, wore a briefly bewildered look — but Hajin only smiled beatifically and shook his head.

"If you're gonna be a bodysitter, be a bodysitter properly. Where do you think you're going."

"Wasn't it bodyguard?"

"Both start with body, close enough. Round it off."

When Yugeon shot him a look that read what on earth is this guy, Hajin breezily ignored it.

"Hajin-ah, technically you should move together with Team Lead Suho…. but the Team Lead just got called up to the control room by the main PD."

"Ah — then Jaeyoung and I will just go on our own. It's not far. We know the way anyway."

"Mmm…. you sure? I don't think you're really supposed to move separately, though…."

"Come on, we're totally fine. We'll go rest a bit."

Hajin reassured the manager over and over that they really were fine. Still a rookie, still worked up about it — the type he actually liked. Did his work carefully, too.

Around debut time…. wonder if he'll get slotted onto our team.

Even if not, he ought to put in a good word with Ji Suho — Hajin thought that as he headed with Jaeyoung toward the waiting room.

Stepping out of the studio and into cooler air, Jaeyoung must have been feeling more himself — his complexion improved noticeably.

"With nerves that weak, what am I supposed to do with you?"

"…right? I didn't know I was this much of a chicken either. First mission, I couldn't take part because I was sick, and now…."

…ahem.

With no one throwing an actual jab, Hajin — landing one clean on himself — coughed lightly and looked away.

Retty, that son of a bitch — I really am gonna tear him apart properly one of these days….

Take a number. I'm first.

The second he brought up Retty, Thirteen showed up as if he'd been waiting for the cue, timing impeccable. There was an intense effect of flames blazing away — though in the middle of it, apparently remembering Hajin had said he had trauma about red, the flames were yellow.

Tsk. Hajin quietly clicked his tongue, and Jaeyoung, finding another topic fast, changed tack.

"You okay, hyung? Your hand…."

"Ah — I'm fine. During the choreo I put a hand down on the floor wrong, and I guess it split open a little then."

The cut, which had seemed to be closing up pretty well, had started stinging around the end of the last take, and finally — sure enough — bled through.

By the time the stage was over the bleeding had already stopped, and it didn't really hurt anymore either — but he did need to get a fresh bandage on, so he'd been heading for the waiting room.

"It didn't show on camera, right? The blood?"

"Didn't really see it during monitoring? Ah, I'm telling you, I'm fine. Want to see?"

"Aaagh! No!"

"React like that and now I've got to show you."

Just to mess with the freaked-out Jaeyoung, Hajin peeled the bandage off his palm. When he shoved the cut — blood smeared unpleasantly across it — under Jaeyoung's nose, Jaeyoung recoiled in horror and backed away.

"Aaaagh! Don't! Don't show me!"

"Boohoo, Jaeyoung-ah. Hyung's in so much pain. Look, look. See how the flesh here is all shredded—"

"Aaagh, can't hear you, can't hear you! CAN'T HEAR YOUUUU!"

"Oh, boohoo, that cold-hearted dongsaeng of mine, hyung's hurting and instead of comforting him he runs. Guess I'll just have to chase you, then."

With his dongsaeng-teasing button fully pressed, Hajin sent Jaeyoung — hands clapped over his ears — bolting for the waiting room. Making a big show of blubbering, Hajin took off after him. The studio and the waiting room weren't far apart, so the two of them reached it quickly.

"Ah, come on. I said stop!"

"Aaagh! Jaeyoung-ah!! Hyung's in so much pain!! So much paaaain!"

"I finally get why Eunchan keeps asking to swap rooms, seriously."

Jaeyoung sighed and pushed the waiting-room door open. Hajin, by now scrunching up his entire face, waggled his cut hand back and forth as if it were trembling. Nobody was more genuinely committed to teasing his dongsaengs than this man.

The two of them stepped into the waiting room.

"Oh, it hurts so bad…. Look, Jaeyoung-ah. Hyung's hand is still bleeding, look at it dri—"

"…son?"

"……?"

"………?"

Mid-blubbering as he walked in, Hajin's feet came to a dead stop.

Why was he hearing a voice in our waiting room that could not possibly be here?

Hajin blinked and looked into the waiting room. And his eyes met—

Whose?

His mom's!

The color drained from Youngin's face; her gaze went, without a word, to Hajin's hand.

"What happened to your hand? Did you hurt yourself?"

"……."

…this one's not the System — this one's a Kang Hajin-brand self-inflicted disaster.

Uh. No, well, the thing is.

Hajin's mouth clamped shut.

Fuck, what am I supposed to talk my way out of this one with…?