Chapter 65

Paran (Surge)

The uniform shirt sleeve — the one he'd deliberately had shipped in from his family's place, from his old school — had a red splash of sauce spreading across it, ugly as anything.

For a very short moment, all kinds of thoughts (read: every curse in the book) flashed through my head.

'…That little brat.'

Most of them were, to put it politely, along the lines of where does some snot-nosed little brat learn to pull this kind of shameless bullshit. (This is the polite version.)

'Hold it, Kang Hajin. Not yet — not yet.'

However insufferable that bastard is, this isn't the time. On top of that, we're in the middle of a waiting room crawling with outside staff. Nothing good comes from getting in his face over this right here…

'My head knows that well enough.'

But what am I supposed to do about being pissed?

The System picks up its popcorn. (Entranced.)

'And instead of helping me, this one—'

Deciding to overlook the fact that it was even firing popcorn-popping effects on the System window, I opened my mouth to at least land one line on Han Seongwoo — still standing in front of me with that shameless face — but a voice beat me to it.

"You've gotta wash this out, though."

"What?"

Lee Yugeon, with a face that couldn't have cared less about the standoff between me and Han Seongwoo, calmly held Han Seongwoo's empty bento box back out to him.

"Wash it out, I said. And take the sticker off too."

The delivery was light, but when it's coming from Lee Yugeon — well over 180 with a full punk look — the weight of it lands differently. Han Seongwoo, who'd been standing there full of himself, looked visibly thrown.

"Why would I — why would I wash this?"

"You've never done recycling? That's just how the rules work."

"Who washes a bento box—! I'm throwing it out, all right!"

"A-class always did it that way. Even when hyung was in A-class, always."

At Yugeon's tone — not a trace of malice, all wide-eyed innocence — Seongwoo bit down on his lip, glancing around at the surrounding staff. With a blank face, Yugeon pushed the bento box toward Seongwoo one more time.

"You want me to wash it for you?"

"…No, forget it. I guess I didn't really know. I'll wash it."

As the other trainees, done eating, started drifting over one by one, Seongwoo — apparently not wanting to blow this up — quickly folded. He snatched the bento box back irritably, and somehow the whole thing left a flat taste in my mouth.

'Wait — I didn't wash mine either though?'

Is that why he told me to leave it? Since we don't really know each other, he felt weird asking me to wash it? My curiosity was piqued by this Lee Yugeon guy, who'd just ended the standoff so anticlimactically.

I brushed the sauce off my hand as best I could and asked Yugeon:

"Does A-class really wash the bento boxes and then throw them out?"

"Nah, lie."

"Huh?"

"That hyung's noisy, so. Just said it to shut it down."

…what the hell is this guy?

"Aren't you on the same team as that hyung? What if things get awkward?"

"Eh, not really. It's not like I'm going to debut anyway."

"Come again?"

"If you're not tossing yours, move aside, hyung. You're in the other guys' way."

Yugeon tipped his chin toward the other trainees behind me, standing there awkwardly with empty bento boxes in hand. It was a clear "get lost," so, with an unsettled feeling, I had no choice but to stand up.

'…did he just say he's not going to debut?'

He'd been camped out in the special class this whole time on stats that clearly didn't measure up — and now, at this point, he's stepping back with 'not going to debut anyway'?

'This is definitely off.'

Does he know something? Or else…

title: Single Quest 02. 'I'm the crazy one in this district!' You who've stepped (will step) into Miro. Survive the suffocating political maneuvering and gatekeeping inside, meet the companions who'll help you, and successfully debut. (Defusing the hidden bomb — regression trigger risk decreases, quest success rate increases) limit: 6 months reward: A clue for tracking the Regressor penalty: Life-five regression trigger risk +85%

'If it's a "gonna regress anyway, no big deal" thing?'

The second recording wraps, I'm meeting Lee Doha and interrogating him about Lee Yugeon.

What is this guy, really?

---

"Ah, fuck!"

Confirming there was no one else in the bathroom, Han Seongwoo let out a full-throated curse. The bento box he'd been rinsing at the sink was already jammed carelessly into the bathroom trash.

"Not one single thing going my way, fuck…."

Had there ever been a stretch like this, where nothing went his way? Early on he'd become a trainee easily on the Department Head's coattails, cashed in on every special-class perk, and cleared out any inconvenient guys along the way.

"So why am I stuck in a shithole like this with punks like—!"

Once the parachute rumors started, he'd pinned them on Ju Eunchan. He'd played the role of taking Eunchan — thoroughly frozen out by public opinion — quietly under his wing, and built up his own image nicely at the same time.

Since Ji Suho was blocking him from getting slotted directly into Miro's next debut lineup, they'd already worked out that when the Department Head left to set up a new company, Seongwoo would follow him over.

"This is all because of that son of a bitch."

But ever since Kang Hajin turned up, not one single thing had gone the way it should. What was he supposed to do about that eyesore of a bastard?

He'd gone to CP Yoon and laid it all out at length, but the man had just shrugged it off, saying, wasn't the point just making sure he doesn't debut?

—What the public sees is the broadcast, either way. However well he did in taping, if we slice him out in editing, what's he going to do? You think Miro's going to be dying to take on a rookie trainee with bad viewer reactions?

The first broadcast wasn't far off. Han Seongwoo resolved to just hold on until then. Yeah — just until then….

"Ah, sorry about that."

Bursting boldly into the bathroom and shattering Seongwoo's monologue was the root cause of it all — Kang Hajin.

Hajin — sauce-splashed uniform shirt in one hand, a bottle of dish soap from god knows where in the other, down to just the black tee he'd been wearing underneath — breezed into the bathroom and pitched his voice at maximum smug.

"Sorry, didn't realize you were in here crying by yourself — walked right in."

"Who's crying?"

"No, you were just taking so long washing your bento box. Figured maybe."

Hajin gave a slick smile and shrugged. Then, thanks to his long legs, he crossed the room in a few strides and reached the sink next to Seongwoo's.

Apparently actually here to wash his shirt sleeve — he spread the uniform shirt out over the sink and started squeezing out dish soap.

"Ugh, so low."

He had to bend over, and with the motion, the silver necklace he'd tucked inside his short-sleeve tee slipped out with a soft clink. The tie he'd looped through his pants waistband in place of a belt swayed with Hajin's movement too.

Seongwoo didn't want to admit it, but that cool air about him and the sharp lines of his profile were, honestly, kind of enviable.

'Wait — why the hell am I standing here thinking this crap and staring at him?'

At that moment, Hajin — carefully working the soap into the sleeve — turned on the faucet. The rush of pouring water rang out in the bathroom. Washing his own long, elegant hands under the water, Hajin let out a small laugh.

"Hey, hyung-nim. This really the moment to be gunning for me?"

"……"

"Feeling confident about tonight's stage?"

That smile — just the corner of his mouth curling — was infuriating no matter when you saw it. A little mischief, a little confidence, an ease that felt like he saw right through you — all of it coming through, direct.

That smile that seemed to warn: you are never, ever getting inside the line around the person called Kang Hajin.

"Paran… a good song. For someone at your level, hyung, not exactly a difficulty you can't handle. Your teammates aren't bad either, and it works fine as a finale."

Whooosh — his hands were already clean, but Hajin still didn't shut off the water. The sharp rush of water rang out.

"So — why do you think I gave you last spot, hyung-nim?"

Around that point, Seongwoo felt, with total certainty, that something was seriously wrong. From the pit of his stomach, some unidentifiable bug seemed to be crawling all over his body, going by the names tension and pressure.

What is this? What the hell is this filthy feeling?

"Warm your throat, hyung-nim. Stop shouting. Imagine cracking on a note — how embarrassing would that be. You're the main vocal on that team, after all."

Lightly tidying his hair in the mirror, Hajin turned and gave Seongwoo one final wide smile. Take the thorns out of that line and it was, on the surface, the very picture of a fellow trainee-hyung offering encouragement and concern before a stage.

But Seongwoo knew. What the thorns in that line were, and what the strange, unpleasant thing crawling around inside his body was.

"Getting compared side by side — neither of us wants that, right?"

The reason he'd deliberately named the order-picking game the Main Vocals' Face-Off. The reason he'd chosen the second slot, so Seongwoo's team would land in the last spot.

"Struggling to do the original justice is already hard enough — being compared to the opposing team on top of it, so exhausting."

Jung Siwoo, whose flawless vocals had drawn rave reviews from the mentor panel. Kang Hajin, who'd pulled off Sarin's punishingly difficult original and earned the original artist's endorsement.

And Seongwoo's own stage, following after the afterglow of those two had faded.

"Ugh, survivals are rough, seriously. Aren't they?"

Kchk — Hajin turned the faucet off. He briefly dried his damp hands on a paper towel and casually tossed the wet towel into the trash bin next to the sink. The same trash bin Seongwoo had jammed his bento box into.

"Hyung-nim, fighting!"

Hajin cheered him on brightly and walked out of the bathroom without a backward glance.

Alone again, Seongwoo looked down at his feet for a moment. A puddle of water he hadn't noticed forming was slowly seeping into the soles of his shoes.

"…fuck, seriously."

It was a sense of defeat. In Seongwoo's life — where victory had always been in his hand before the fight even started — a strange, unfamiliar sense of defeat, felt for the first time.

---

Once past Seongwoo, Hajin peeled the paper off the bathroom door. Printed on it, along with Miro Maze's title logo, were the words "No entry — production staff only."

"What a piece of work."

He stuck the paper back where it originally belonged — on the door of the control room — and headed briskly back to the waiting room. A blue System window rose up in front of him.

The System applauds the Fixed Regressor's ruthless approach. Scary man…. ((ノдヽ))

"What'd I even do."

Just applied some appropriate pressure, that's all.

Did I curse him out? Did I lay a hand on him?

He can just do his stage well and walk off — why blame me?

"Hyung, hurry up. Recording's about to start."

"Hyung! Come on!"

Seo Taehyun and Dan Haru — probably sent by the AD to look for me — were standing at the end of the hallway calling out. Behind them, I could see Ju Eunchan crossing past, having just finished brushing his teeth in the other bathroom.

'At the very least, those guys — every one of them almost had his dream crushed because of a single Han Seongwoo.'

Anyone's allowed to have dreams.

Being born with a silver spoon in this capitalist society, hoarding every possible advantage? I have zero intention of criticizing that. If that's your ability, then sure, count it as ability.

'But you don't have to cheer on the ones who trample other people's lives for fertilizer.'

Wordlessly, I walked at a brisk pace. When Seo Taehyun and Dan Haru started nagging me about how I'd wrecked my shirt, I bantered back with them however seemed appropriate.

That Han Seongwoo would go on to commit two enormous slip-ups on the finale stage of Paran (Surge) — two off-key notes and three broken-off lyrics, all from extreme nerves — happened a few hours later.