You're a star!

by loulou_q

Summary:

“Have you ever considered on being an idol?” the lady asked suddenly in an enthusiastic, shrill voice as she leaned into him, teetering on the edge of invasion of personal space.
“Uh-I... no, not really...?” he leaned back abruptly almost stumbling backwards by the unexpected movement.

Kim Dokja never once dreamed of becoming an idol.

Between minimum wage shifts, bone-deep exhaustion, and trashy web novels, he barely had time to breathe — let alone sparkle.
Or: Sleep-deprived cashier Kim Dokja gets scouted for stardom by a suspiciously sparkly woman named Uriel, and honestly? He’s too tired to say no.
-
Indefinite Hiatus rn

Notes:

Hello! So kinda shy because this is my first work and this is sort of a self-indulgent fic so some moments it might be slightly ooc.
The updates are probably going to be irregular because I don't have a full fledged plan for this au since I wrote this on the whim, but I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: An offer

Overcast clouds crowded the gloomy sky as the wind blew softly carrying a small breeze across the street.  

Kim Dokja shivered from the slight cold, internally scolding himself for not bringing a warmer jacket.  

He trudged on the sidewalk, not making an effort to keep a straight posture, hissing at each step due to the stinging pain of his knees and the cuts he could still feel on his limbs. His backpack weighed him down, as if he wasn't already exhausted supporting his fatigued and aching body.  

On the bright side, he’d found the newly released book by his favorite author at the library, it made it worth it to continue carrying his bag full of assignments and other junk he stuffed at the bottom.  

Normally, he would’ve rushed to his apartment to start reading, except he promised to cover a shift as a favor for one of his coworkers, which he already regrets.  

He begrudgingly made his way towards the convenience store with its neon open sign flickering with words barely readable, in which he assumes the owner can’t afford to replace, but he doesn’t bother to ask.  

He opened the door and was met with the familiar scenery of stocked shelves of packaged food that were likely expired and barely touched refrigerated drinks — probably frozen solid. Still, the lukewarm air inside was a mild relief from the aggravating cold outside.  

He then turned towards his half-awake coworker to greet them, and as in greet he means a nonchalant nod and cough with a displeased grunt from the interruption of their slumber.  

And there’s the start of his tedious, agonizingly long shift.  

Dokja waited at the counter, squirming out of disgust at the freshly chewed gum stuck underneath it, slowly distancing himself from the lack of decency of his coworker.  

He then reminisced about the comforting rigidness of his bed he could’ve been lazing in, before pulling out his phone to browse for some web novels hoping one of them could pick his interest and relieve him of this unbearable boredom.  

He scrolled through the endless catalogue, scoffing at the cliché, but undeniably intriguing titles, and gawking at the hot men beautiful covers. (He’s not into that. Probably.)  

His hand slowly succumbed to numbness, until his finger paused at one particular cover.  

“Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World” He read aloud while muttering curious of the book’s content.  

The moment he was about to read the summary; the familiar chime of the door rang as he heard slightly louder than necessary steps stride into the store.  

Dokja slowly looked up; his eyes glancing at the petite, slim silhouette entering.  

He rubbed his eyes due to the strain from staring too long at his screen, only to jump at the piercing stare he met.  

Though the stranger wore sunglasses, they did not diminish the intimidating nature of the penetrating gaze.  

The owner of said gaze had long, wavy platinum hair tied in a half-up, half-down style, she was dressed in a long black coat with frilly laces, underneath you could notice a black laced collar peeking out. The lady looked to be an elite businesswoman of some sort in her early twenties, exuding an air that she should not be underestimated.  

She continued to peer at him without a shame, her eyes moving up and down, scrutinizing his every feature and wordlessly judging him.  

He awkwardly shifted in his posture to stand upright, feeling tense under the eyes of the strange lady.  

He was about to open his mouth to interrupt her intrusive observation but was soon stopped as the woman spoke instead;  

“You” she said decisively without any other words.  

“Me?” he blurted out leading a finger to point at himself, confused from her bizarre manner of speaking.  

She took a small pause, removing her glasses and placing them in her pocket, then continued;  

“Have you ever considered on being an idol?” the lady asked suddenly in an enthusiastic, shrill voice as she leaned into him, teetering on the edge of invasion of personal space.  

Her frightening presence magically disappeared with her sunglasses causing her to seem like an angelic being with bright, round, emerald, green eyes that stared ardently at him nearly blinding him by how intensely they shone as curled, blond locks cascaded down the sides of her face.  

“Uh-I... no, not really...?” he leaned back abruptly almost stumbling backwards by the unexpected movement.  

Kim Dokja never once dreamed of becoming an idol.  

Between minimum wage shifts, bone-deep exhaustion, and trashy web novels, he barely had time to breathe — let alone sparkle.  

He didn’t even know the reason she was asking him because –– in all honesty –– she is much more suitable to be an idol than him.  

“Oh.”  

A silence stretched, her eyes still roamed over him, unblinking.  

“Uh, ma’am do you need-”  

Without warning a gloved hand reached to grab his chin, swaying his face side to side quite harshly as the lady inspected his face closer.  

“That’s a shame, you are quite pretty with good facial structure and features, you would be beautiful if you learnt the word “self-care”, seeing your eyebags are as deep as the pacific ocean and it looks like you’re cosplaying a skeleton with your fragile body, but you have good skin; smooth and silky... and worryingly pale.”  

“Excuse me-”  

She let go of his chin and whipped out a notepad from who knows where and started scribbling aggressively.  

“Trimming and fixing your hair would be great too... also you have a bruise here. She pointed at his cheek with her pen, then clicked her tongue as if chiding him. You have a nice, lulling voice, do you sing?”  

“Well...I mean sometimes when I’m alone...? But what’s the-”  

“That’s perfect! I wonder if you’re interested in signing up as a trainee under our agency, it’s-”  

“Pardon me, but who are you?” he asked before she rambled on more, slightly irritated as he rubbed his chin to soothe the stinging; the woman had a strong grip.  

She settled her notepad on the counter.  

“Oh, my utmost apologies,” she said suddenly. 
“My name is Uriel, new agent at Constellations Ent.” 
She extended a hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you...uh, what’s your name?” while displaying a wide, sincere smile, her pearly white teeth shone as brightly as her eyes. 

Uriel stared anticipatingly at the cashier.  

“Uh...Kim Dokja, nice to meet you too, I guess?” he hesitantly grabbed her hand, planning to shake it slowly, sadly his plan failed; Uriel swiftly took both of his hands and started shaking them vigorously.  

“Ah, a lovely, unique name! Dokja as in alone?” she abruptly let go of his hand and started writing in her notebook once more, her eyes gleaming with excitement.  

“No, well, my mom prefers as in reader and my dad... He awkwardly cleared his throat before continuing. He preferred as in alone.”  

She momentarily glanced at him, her eyes glinting with slight sadness sensing his discomfort at the mention of his parents, she then started speaking in a cheery manner;  

“Alright! So now that we’ve finished our introductions, let’s rewind back to my question; Would you be interested in joining our agency?”  

“Oh... well, I’m not sure I’m really fit to join your agency...” he responded uneasy from her eagerness.  

“Nonsense! When I first glanced at you, I knew you had potential to be a STAR ! You got this soothing vibe, this undeniable charm that I cannot ignore! If you had to ask me, I would say you would be the person where thousands and millions of people would be looking up to, shining in the spotlight and hearing the overwhelming cheers of the crowd as they chant your name.”  

“...Thank you, but are you sure? I don’t even sing that well not to mention I’ve never seriously danced in my life.”  

“Stop doubting yourself, it might be all you see, yet that’s because you’re not looking closely, I see millions of possibilities brewing with vehemence with this talent you just glow! Therefore, stop doubting and start believing in yourself because YOU are made to be a star!”  

Dokja slightly clenched his hands before glancing at Uriel beaming with fervor while her hands gripped the edge of the counter.  

“Could you give me some time to think about it? I’m not really sure yet.”  

“Of course! Wait let me grab my business card, contact me once you’ve made your decision.”  

The lady searched in her pockets for a few seconds before pulling out a neat, sleek black card with white writing.  

She placed it on the counter, winked at him while doing a call sign then slipped out of the store with a cheerful smile and a vigorous wave of both hands, it seemed like a trail of sparkles followed her everywhere she went.  

“Constellations Ent.” Dokja mumbled to himself, his finger tracing the intricate designs on the card and the outlined stars that embellished the corners.  

‘Pretty fancy...and tacky’  

His thoughts were soon interrupted as the familiar chime of the door rang again.  

He hastily stuffed the card in his pocket, hoping he’ll not forget it in there –– well he didn’t really care for it though.  

-  

The cacophonous harmony of the bustling streets sounded in the night as rush hour came, the exuberant beeping of cars paraded the streets as the drunken chatter of the crowd drowned the silence.  

Dokja laid quietly on his stiff mattress, constantly shifting with the bed creaking at each slight movement as he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position.  

He settled on the dented space he found before his thin blanket slipped onto the carpeted floor, but he didn’t bother to pick it up since he already found the perfect and only spot on his bed that wasn’t rigid and was too tired to move once more.  

He pulled out the slightly crumpled card out of his clenched hand that he surprisingly didn’t forget and scrutinized it, fidgeting it between his slender fingers while mulling over the intriguing proposition of Uriel.  

He whipped out his phone and slowly searched the company’s name.  

Search: Constellations Entertainment  

Constellation Entertainment  

Https://www.constellationsent.com  

Constellations Entertainment Corporation is a South Korean multinational entertainment and record label conglomerate founded in –– by Star Stream International. It proudly stands as one of South Korea’s largest entertainment companies and has been dutiful by cultivating and launching numerous careers of globally recognized artists in the entertainment industry  garnering huge global fanbases.  

Operating as a record label, talent agency, music production company, event management company, concert production company and music publishing house, it is known to have led world-wide stars and many music phenomenons and early oversea successes.  

The label currently represents music artists such as...  

-  

‘Huh, they’re pretty renowned in the entertainment industry, high benefits, fair compensation...’  

‘Would I even fit in?’  

He fiddled with his phone, watching as his battery slowly decrease, chewing his inside cheek while contemplating whether he should contact her or not.  

‘Should I? I mean she can wait if she didn’t give a deadline...Maybe she already forgot me.’  

‘I can’t wait on this too long... I’ll think for a bit and give my answer tomorrow, it’s not like I have anything to do anyways.’  

‘Also, I never got to read the summary of that book.’  

-  

Chapter 2: Reeking Cigarette Smell

Notes:

Warning! There are graphic depictions of violence, self-harm ideation and foul language in this chapter, so you are notified.
Also, Yoo Joonghyuk & Yoo Mia appearance!

The sun shone dimly in the greyish sky; feathery clouds obscured the dull light as they brought despondency upon the dreadful day.  

Dokja walked through a narrow alley as he drank the small bottle of water he purchased at the vending machine near his school for ₩ 2,000, which in his opinion was slightly overpriced, but his parched throat didn’t give him a choice.  

His body still ached, he was still cold and tired.  

His backpack wore him down.  

His sweater didn’t keep him warm instead it scratched against his skin, each step it caressed and grazed, marking a prickling sensation.  

He wanted to rip his skin off; scrape it until there was only flesh and relief.  

He started to regret his decision in taking this path; a reeking smell of cigarette smoke and questionable odors he couldn’t identify lingered in the air, not helping his aching head. Though he guesses it was worth it if it allowed him to avoid the people he desperately wanted to evade.  

“HEY! Kim Dokja!” A mocking voice called out as he was suddenly dragged by the collar.  

Well, he spoke too soon.  

“Keugh-!” He spat out a mouthful of water, taken by surprise by the sudden action.  

The plastic water bottle he held fell out of his grip, making a subtle thud as it splashed on the ground.  

Before he could respond, his back was brutally slammed against the concrete wall causing his head to swing abruptly backwards.  

An aching, numbing pain spread at the back of this head as his vision blurred for a second.  

He was yanked forward, his clothes straining not to tear under the force.  

“You fucking spat on my clothes! What? Didn’t you have enough fun at soiling the ground you stepped on? Now you must fucking dirty my clothes?!”  

Snorting and laughing of his friends resounded behind his aggressor, Dokja was uncertain if they were laughing at him or the clothes drenched in water.  

He didn’t bother responding to him, since nothing was going to change anyways;  

In the end, he’ll be left aching and writhing on the floor, not being able to distinguish between his blood and the spilt water.  

He instead threw a glance at the emptied bottle.  

‘Wasted money...’  

“Say something you fucking wimp!? At least an apology then, maybe, I’ll spare you.” His grip tightened, his face contorting in fury.  

An agonizing throe swelled everywhere on his body –– he couldn’t feel anything.  

His sweater still scratched.  

“What? Aren’t saying anything? Are you that much of a pussy!?”  

Everything stung and pricked at his skin, flesh and bones.  

“I’m sorry” He gritted through his teeth and clenched his hands.  

“That’s better-”  

- That you were the son of a motherfucking whore and a cocksucker coward.  

- The fuck DID YOU SAY!?  

- You fucking heard me-  

A solid, rigid fist came colliding with his face.  

His vision blurred anew, he felt his eyes jostle from the strident impact as a sharp, disintegrating pain impaled his head.  

“You still got more to say fucker?”  

His nails dug into his palm’s skin, breaking the fragile layer and sinking into the crying flesh.  

“Fuck you, Song Minwoo.” He hissed, his teeth sinking into his lips to withstand the ache.  

A second strike rammed into his face.  

A flare of light flickered as the agony bit excruciatingly, comparable to a freight train bolting through.  

“You’re really fucking asking for it? It’s a shame that the son of a murderer is so pathetic, at least you can be happy that you didn’t inherit anything, but what a waste of genes.”  

“HEY! Who wants a turn at this wretched sissy?” Song Minwoo jeered as he unclenched his hand from his sweater.  

He then ridiculed;  

“Since you’re such a “tough person” snapping back at the person who showed you mercy, you can handle this right? He pulled out a glinting, small fruit knife, waving it in the air with a facetious smirk branding his face. Because you’re strong right?”  

Dokja didn’t know what exactly happened, nor did he care.  

But it hurts.  

-  

Yoo Joonghyuk never thought he would be here in front of a convenience store with its barely readable neon sign blinding him with its constant flashing not to mention the overbearing smell of cigarettes perturbing his nostrils and senses rendering them numb.  

He had to use all his strength to resist the urge to turn back at the sight of the overly aggressive publicities posters plastered everywhere on the begrimed, neglected windows and the worrying accumulating pile of trash “discreetly” stuffed in the corner.  

He already regretted promising his sister anything she wanted at the convenience store if she scored full marks on her math exam, which she did, thanks to her unrelenting determination and adoration for sweets.  

He saw her smug grin — and that was enough to stop him from taking it back.  

“Oppa! Stop staring at the trash like it’s your mortal enemy, let’s go!” Yoo Mia groaned as she tugged her brother’s hand forward, using her feet as an anchor to steady herself and pull harder.  

Joonghyuk ignored his younger sister’s incessant blabbering as he entered the store with hesitant steps.  

The sight of the enormous assortment of junk food, presumably stale, assaulted his entire being, whether it was the shattering, vibrant packaging or the detrimentally concerning sugar content, he wanted to dig a hole and shove himself in there.  

“I want this.” Mia said resolutely, while striding with confident steps through the isles, tossing a bright carton box towards him.  

“Dokkaebi’s special space star gummies, experience the natural flavors of the constellations with the burst of a juicy, fruity center? He read aloud monotonously, frowning at the exaggerated, sugary description before reading the nutrition facts label. 11 grams of sugar per pouch of 33 grams.”  

“No.”  

“What?” she stopped mid-stride, then abruptly spun on the balls of her heels to face her brother with an appalled expression, her swaying pigtails nearly whipped the scandalous box out of his hands.  

“Too much sugar, it’s bad for you.” he responded to her flabbergast face, turning back to drop the ridiculously sweet candy back to its place, wherever his sister found it.  

Suddenly, a small hand reached out to grab his forearm, gripping his sleeve with aggression.  

“Hey! You said we could buy anything I wanted?” she complained, taking advantage of her brother’s pause to yank the box out of his grasp.  

“As long as it was not too unhealthy.” he tried to grab the box back, but unfortunately his sister stubbornness wouldn’t concede, and she adamantly held onto the sweets.  

“That was not in the agreement.” she spat.  

“Well, I’m changing the rules.”  

“That’s not how an agreement works! You consented to the terms and conditions; you can’t go back on your word!”  

“We didn’t sign anything.”  

“It was a verbal agreement and a pinky promise!”  

Joonghyuk sighed at the unceasing accusations and finally decided to give in with one condition.  

“If I buy this, we’re not buying anything else.”  

Mia stared at him for a couple of seconds while processing if the offer was favorable to her.  

After a torturously long stillness of waiting, she relented, “Fine.” and snatched the box to embrace it in her arms, protecting it if her brother dared to go back on his word again.  

She marched towards the counter with a sour expression not bothering to wait for him. She then lightly shoved the box onto the counter, getting on her tippy toes to see  greet the cashier.  

“Hi young lady, would you like to buy this?”  

“Yes please.”  

“Alright, your total is ₩ 8,600. Do you have cash on you?” The girl at the counter looked at the child waiting for her answer until a deep voice responded in her stead.  

“I’m paying.”  

The cashier glanced up at the interrupting voice and was met with wide black eyes peering at her accompanied with thick eyebrows, a sharp nose ridge, and a strong jawline.  

The man had black slightly wavy hair cut short with soft curls messily tussled, unkempt by the uncaring owner. He exuded a dark, brooding presence, maybe it was his expression. Or the all-black outfit. Whatever it was, he radiated a quiet threat.  

She was certain this was the most attractive guy she’d ever seen.  

“Is there a problem?” the low and apparent displeased voice halted her shameless ogling, bringing her back to her senses.  

“Uh, no, no sir, everything’s fine.” she anxiously responded, waving her hands to dismiss his remark.  

“Here, keep the change.” he handed the payment and grabbed the carton box, stuffing it into the white plastic bag he carried then headed his way out holding his sister’s hand.  

“Oh wait!” the girl blurted out, internally slapping herself at her impulsive action.  

“What.” Joonghyuk stopped, his mood slowly turning bitter out of irritation.  

An uneasy silence fell, making its obvious presence known.  

“Can-I... uh can I have your number?” she stuttered, stumbling on her courageous words.  

“No.”  

The blunt, straightforward response directly shattered the fantasies that muddled her head, she looked down out of shame and stammered;  

“Ah...I see, uh well, have a nice day.”  

He exited the store without another word, pretending not to hear the embarrassed groan behind him, pulling his sister by the hand to rush home so he could start cooking.  

The sky slowly darkened as the bustling noise of the street settled peacefully.  

“We should’ve gone tomorrow, it’s already getting late, and the street is crowded.” he mumbled in annoyance.  

“If you’re so aggrieved by people, why don’t we take a shortcut then?” she replied also annoyed, but for another reason, she then pointed at the secluded and suspicious alleyway tucked away in the darkness.  

“We’re not taking that way.”  

- Why.  

- It’s dangerous.  

- Why.  

- We can’t see anything there.  

- Wow, since when were you afraid of the dark, Oppa?  

- ...  

- Stay near me.  

Joonghyuk slowly tightened his grip around his sister’s hand as he cautiously tugged her towards obscure alleyway.  

Trash shamelessly cluttered the floors; crumpled advertisement flyers immersed in the shoal puddles, stubbed cigarette buds crowded the filthy ground, numerous food wrappings were strewn across the alleyway, rivaling with the buds.  

Dubious substances drenched the cement, darkening the spot it swamped.  

He slightly recoiled at the indistinct smell of blood that lingered in the air, readying himself to turn back, but he then spotted a vague silhouette shoved in a discreet corner.  

‘Dead body?’  

He warily approached the figure, pushing his sister behind him, simultaneously hiding her view, as the scent of blood grew bolder.  

He steadily pulled out his phone and opened the flashlight function.  

An illuminated face slummed carelessly on the floor, his pale skin glistened under the piercing light, his thin black hair was scuffled haphazardly; inky strands sprouting out, with long eyelashes clinging to his skin.  

Faint red smudges stained his swollen cheeks with indented marks enveloping his neck.  

His sweater was soaked, dripping miniscule droplets of water, and was tattered with blood as scattered, shallow cuts littered his thin body, overlapping with the delicate, faded scars.  

The face, half-obscured by shadow, was far too familiar, but distant.  

“Kim...Dokja?”  

The name fell out before he could stop it.  

 

Chapter 3: Scrambled Eggs

Notes:

Thank you so so much for the kudos & support!!!!
Here's the next chapter, there's only fluff :D (and a tiny bit of flower language)

Chapter 3; Scrambled Eggs  

A wringing ache pulsed in his skull, relentless and slow, like a hammer made of glass.  

Technicolor swirls tormented his blackened vision — writhing into abstract, vibrant shapes that only intensified the pounding behind his eyes.  

He struggled to open his eyes as his eyelids held a burdensome weight, and his eyelashes were adhered together from the draining weariness and dried tears.  

Rubbing at them sluggishly, he blinked against the harsh ceiling light, which immediately scorched away whatever drowsiness dared to remain.  

He winced. The air was thick with the bitter tang of medicine.  

Instinctively, he raised his bandaged arm, faintly caressing the silken sheets to cover his nose — only to freeze.  

Bandaged arm.  

Silken sheets.  

...Silken sheets?  

He flinched, bolting off the bed. His head narrowly missed the edge of the nightstand, unfortunately, his flailing hand didn’t, striking it with a sharp thud that sent sparks through his fingers.  

‘Shit.’  

He crash-landed into the floccose carpet with all the grace of a dropped mannequin.  

Groaning, he rubbed at his back and glared at the soft floor, offended that it hadn’t softened his fall.  

‘Where the hell am I?’  

He gripped the corner of the culprit nightstand to hoist himself up and took in the room around him.  

It was a pretty bleak room with light blue walls, the bed had pure black bedding, same thing for the carpet and the curtains hanging on the floor-to-ceiling windows.  

To his left at the other side of the room, a peaceful door stood guard beside the wide windows which he assumes is a bathroom.  

Hopefully not a murder room –– well it couldn’t possibly be that because of the lack of blood stains.  

The wooden floorboards were made of mahogany and painfully clean, deprived of filth, which obviously indicated a clean freak lived here...or a clean freak serial killer, that would explain the spotless door.  

He shuddered at the thought.  

Next to the assumed bathroom was a black dresser with silver handles and lining, it supported a single white vase with dying daffodils dramatically drooping downwards. On the wall was a typical landscape painting with blooming red roses showcasing their proud beauty in the center.  

If you had to ask Kim Dokja, this scene was quite contradictory.  

To his right was a wall embedded black closet, giving the room a sleek modern look,  

Suddenly, a spike of pain stung his hand.  

He lightly jumped and muttered a few obscenities while holding his hands with the other, hoping its warmth would magically heal the throb.  

The white wrapped around his arm caught his attention, anyone with a brain could notice the skillful bandaging and hidden care that swaddled his lithe body.  

‘So, not a serial killer, no sane person would give up an easy kill.’  

‘Human trafficker?’  

The abrupt click of the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts, he threw himself with an awkward agile leap on the bed and plunged into the gracing solace of the unassuming blanket.  

“Don’t sell me I have a battered body!”  

“...”  

His breath stuttered as the sound of dreadful footsteps approached him, he felt suffocated in the enclosed space as an itch tingled from the overwhelming warmth of the blanket.  

Then the almost imperceptible clack of a plate resounded beside him.  

A gust of cold air slipped through the small opening as a scarred hand guardedly lifted the blanket.  

An inviting, scrumptious, slightly buttery aroma protruded his nostrils, he unconsciously drooled at the savoring smell.  

Dokja curiously peeked through the gap, only to be met with two lean, muscular, sadly  clothed thighs standing in front of him.  

“AH! What the-”  

Startled, he hastily peeled off the overheating blanket.  

A frightening presence stared at him.  

Said presence had a strong, chiseled jawline, comparable to statues of Greek gods with dark, tempting eyes that pierced through him partnered with a refined nose ridge.  

Somewhat curling black locks dripped daintily down his sides with furrowed, thick eyebrows and downward drooping mouth corners forming a captivating *cough* unappealing frown.  

A loose-fitted, silver collared, black jacket tastefully adorned his toned body along with figure hugging black pants.  

He was the absolute incarnation of attractiveness...and overpowered protagonist in crappy web novels.  

Honestly, Kim Dokja would have been happy being sold to him.  

“Eat.”  

A resonant voice reverberated in the silent room, then shoved a delicate porcelain plate in his face.  

“Huh?”  

Fluffy, light-yellow, scrambled eggs decorated the plate, peppered with shredded herbs as diced potatoes piled on the side, two slices of crusted toast laid on the edges with cut avocados seasoned with salt, and a glimmering fork and knife beside them.  

“I didn’t add tomatoes.”  

A searing pang hit his head at those words, he slowly raised his head towards the unsmiling face and said;  

“How do you know I don’t like tomatoes?” a distraught expression embraced his face.  

Kim Dokja doesn’t know this person, he would’ve surely remembered such a jaw-dropping beauty.  

“You don’t remember me?” his frown grew deeper.  

“No...? Who are you?”  

“...”  

The stranger’s expression darkened, his downcast eyes slightly trembled as he pursed his lips into a thin line.  

“Forget it.” he mumbled nearly imperceptible.  

He then questioned apathetically, “How are your injuries?”  

“Uh... they’re fine-hey! You didn’t answer my question.”  

“Eat, first then talk.”  

“I’m not going to eat if you don’t respond to my question.”  

He sighed then reluctantly yielded;  

“... my name is Yoo Joonghyuk.”  

‘That doesn’t ring a bell’  

“How did you know I didn’t like tomatoes?”  

Joonghyuk avoided his gaze for a second before answering,  

“You muttered it in your sleep.”  

“Oh... alright”  

Discomfort slowly clouded the room.  

-So... did you poison this?  

- What.  

- Did you cook this?  

- Yeah.  

- Looks good.  

- Why aren’t you eating?  

“Oh right” Dokja hesitantly raised the glimmering fork and warily poked the creamy eggs as if they were going to attack him.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Eating.” he hurriedly stuffed the yellow fluff into his mouth.  

A slightly toothsome, umami flavor melted into his mouth while a rich, cheesy savor graced his taste buds. The shredded herbs diminished the cheesy flavor and added their own twist creating a perfect balance, in conclusion, it was a luscious, delectable dish of five stars.  

At this thought, he continued devouring the food until nothing was left with a satisfied moan, savoring every bite. He even wanted to lick the clean plate before he realized that the chef was just in front of him.  

An awkward cough slipped out as he muttered, “Sorry.”  

Then praised with sparkling eyes, “You’re a really good cook.”  

“It’s just scrambled eggs.”  

“Well, I bet you can open a restaurant only serving this and people would be lining up every day.”  

“That’s exaggerated.”  

“I know I would.”  

The less frightening presence than before gave a slight nod at the compliment then asked,  

“Are you done with that?”  

“Oh, yeah.” he carefully handed the plate to the offering hand.  

“Are you sure because it looked like you wanted to lick it.”  

Dokja lightly blushed and murmured embarrassed,  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

Joonghyuk momentarily glanced at him and said, “Stay there.”, then carried the plate out of the room.  

‘So not a human trafficker...’  

Holding that thought, his eyes swept the room a second time before glimpsing at a small tuff of black hair peeking out of the door frame.  

Wide, unblinking eyes emerged from their hiding spot.  

A small girl calmly entered the room, her long, intertwining tresses tied into two ponytails bounced as she walked towards Kim Dokja.  

As mentioned before, she had wide black eyes with thin double eyelids and thick eyebrows similar to Yoo Joonghyuk which indicated that she was most likely his younger sister also owing to the fact she looked like a mini girl vision of him.  

She wore a white t-shirt with an image of a small white fluff ball with stubbed limbs an ivory horn poking at the top of its head, underneath labeled “Dokkaebi King”. Over the tee was black straps with silver buckles connected to a denim skirt that reached her knees.  

She stood in front of him, arms behind her back, her eyes peering up and down at his swaddled body with a hint of... disgust?  

“Who are you?” a flat, unamused voice questioned.  

“Uh... aren’t I supposed to ask you that?”  

“No, I asked you first.”  

“You walked up to me.”  

“Because you’re an intruder and freeloader.”  

Dokja slightly widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows, not expecting a prickly attitude from the child.  

“Woah, woah, you guys kidnapped me? I’m here against my will.”  

“We saved you from paying hospitable bills, aren’t you supposed to be thankful? We even let you sleep on silken sheets, which you probably can’t even afford.” she spat, pointing at the poor, unrelated sheets squished under his weight.  

Her sharp remark rendered him speechless, he was about to retort and deny her accusation then on cue a tall, looming figure entered the room.  

“Mia, what are you doing here?”  

The girl whipped towards her older brother and groused scornfully,  

“This ugly squid ahjussi isn’t grateful.”  

‘Ugly?’  

“Go do your homework.”  

Mia rolled her eyes and turned to Kim Dokja to give him a light glare before heading out of the room.  

Seeing she left, Joonghyuk silently sat next to him, sinking into the warm comfort.  

“Is that your little sister?”  

“Yes.”  

“No wonder, if you said no, I would’ve thought she was your daughter.” Dokja let out a small smile, illuminating his features.  

A small stillness settled.  

His gaze drooped downwards, staring at the swirls of the floorboards as he fiddled with his hands.  

A question brewed, but he hesitated to ask.  

“Why did you help me?”  

Joonghyuk froze then looked at him with an indescribable expression.  

“I mean...you could’ve just left me there and that would’ve saved you some time and effort.”  

“Was I supposed to leave an injured person alone in a shady alley?”  

“...”  

Dokja bit his cheek, contemplating whether he should continue, then self-deprecatingly laughed,  

“That’s true... He paused. You’re a nice person, you know. Saving a weak, pathetic person like me, not everyone would do that, that’s some real hero work.”  

He arched his eyebrows, entertained, “Hey, you could join the justice league, you already got the selfless service and muscular build off the list. Next is a friendly face so people don’t think you’re the enemy.”  

“That’s improbable.” the deep voice quickly cut off his make-belief.  

His swathed hand quietly caressed the silky sheets, appreciating the pleasing smoothness and the strange calmness it brought.  

A piercing stare followed his every move intently.  

“You’re also good at bandaging people, you can add that to your resume. Maybe that could increase your chances.”  

Amused eyes looked up at him with an unlucky grin.  

“Anyways, I shouldn’t stay here any longer than necessary as it seems someone doesn’t want me here.” he got off the bed and lightly winced at the sting in his joints.  

“Thanks for taking care of me, I’ll try to repay you.” he raised his arms, interlacing his fingers to stretch, barely lifting his shirt, a sliver of faintly bloodied bandages were revealed.   

“I don’t have much if you’re asking for money.” a gentle chuckle escaped him, he then stopped and slowly looked at Joonghyuk.  

“Are these your clothes?”  

“Yes, yours were all ripped.”  

Dokja’s face reddened at the thought of Joonghyuk undressing him and mentally berated himself for his shameful thinking.  

“Oh... I’ll return you these after I go home, is there a way I can meet you?”  

“We can exchange numbers.”  

“Alright.”  

Dokja patted his pants to dig into his pocket, but realized his phone was in his ripped pants.  

As if noticing his realization, Joonghyuk said, “Your phone is on the kitchen counter, I’ll go get it.” he walked towards the door then stopped and told him, “Follow me.”  

He curiously followed him out of the room, a black door stood in front of him as soon he stepped out.  

‘Another bedroom?’  

He turned to his left and finally acknowledged how enormous this apartment was.  

As he walked down the hallway, he observed the multiple framed pictures that hung on the walls, most of them were pictures of Mia, documenting her appearance from birth to now, only a few were of Joonghyuk and they looked to be taken recently.  

‘They don’t have parents?’  

An open kitchen grandiosely presented itself, he walked up and gently glided his hands against the smooth marble counters that shone under ambient lights. They limited the flooring as it turned from floorboards to slate black and white checkers.  

Overcast silver-lined black cabinets garnished the stone walls, he then glanced at the diverse collection of scintillating, sharpened knives that stabbed menacingly into the knife block, admiring their lustrous sheen.  

Afterwards, he turned around and spotted multiple wooden shelves with glass doors.  

He lightly stepped on the elevated platform they stood on and his hand grazed the glass, mesmerized by the various books that crammed each level, spanning from novels, documentaries, comic books, book albums to study books; all types.  

In the corner hid a dark grey, white-lined, cushioned armchair with an antique table holding an old-style gramophone. Dokja delicately blew on the dust-covered, vintage device then sneezed as the grey specks fluttered everywhere.  

Beside the kitchen was the living room equally on an elevated platform, light grey half-walls lined with white borders surrounded the edges.  

At the back was floor-to-ceiling windows beside it was illuminated, floating stairs that lead to the upper-floor.  

Parallel to the stairs was an elegant, polished grand piano with a stack of piano lesson books and a pile of music scores that precariously leaned; on the verge of tumbling.  

In front of the stairs was a flat screen television and underneath was a cabinet bursting with meticulously organized video games and other gaming devices stuffed in an open box.  

Facing the TV, dark grey, sofas with dented cushions were placed in a right-angled position; their backs faced the entry of the area.  

“Finished admiring?”  

Dokja quickly snapped back to his senses as his cracked phone was handed to him.  

“Ah, thank you, you have a pretty big apartment.” He remarked and hastily stuffed it into his pocket and turned to Joonghyuk,  

“Well, I guess this is goodbye?”  

The taller boy seemed to hesitate before pulling out a plastic white bag that smelled terribly the bitter tang of medicine.  

“Wait, take this.”  

“This is...?”  

“Ointment and bandages for your injuries.”  

Dokja felt an enlightening warmth gently spreading in his heart.  

“Oh... thank you, but you don’t have to give me this, you already did enough.” he gave a warm smile and pushed back the bag.  

Except, Joonghyuk persistently insisted.  

“Take it.”  

“But-”  

“Take it.”  

The bandage swaddled boy finally gave up his insistent protests since they were going nowhere and reluctantly accepted the foul-smelling bag.  

“So... I’ll contact you once I finished washing your clothes.” he walked towards the front door and spotted the familiar, begrimed shoes.  

“Yes.”  

He unhurriedly sat on the ottoman, pursing his lips at the ache on his back as he bent down to clumsily tie his shoes.  

His slender fingers struggled with the thin laces that slipped and eventually tied a lopsided knot that to some extent looked like a squid.  

“Do you need help?” a low voice questioned with a small hint of amusement.  

“What-no, who would-” Dokja scoffed at the childish idea but was soon interrupted as Joonghyuk bent down on one foot and started retying his laces.  

They both got up when the black-clothed boy finished his task.  

“Thanks.” he whispered, blushing and headed towards the door  

His hand landed on the silver handle and twisted it, and with a click, the door opened.  

Before leaving, he gave once last glance over his shoulder and said,  

“Bye bye.”  

He then proceeded to walk out.

Mid-step, a warm hand grabbed his wrist.  

“Wait.”  

Dokja turned around, a confused look branding his face.  

Joonghyuk stared at him, his eyes glinting under the dim light.
He slightly hesitated, then mumbled,

“...You’re not pathetic.”  

The injured boy showed a soft smile, “Goodbye, Yoo Joonghyuk.”, and at last, stepped out of the threshold.  

And with that, the door closed.  

-  

Dokja slowly descended the everlasting stairs, gripping the oddly clean ramp, panting heavily while scolding himself for regrettably not taking the elevator.  

‘Why did he have to live on one of the highest floors.’  

‘Stupidly hot rich pers-wait no stupid rich person.’  

He let out an exhale of relief as he reached the last steps, tumbling against the wall to catch his breath.  

With exhausted steps, he exited the apartment and walked down the swarming streets, unlike the other days, the sun shone favorably on him, radiating the comforting warmth he missed.  

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out,  

“Kim Dokja!”  

Chapter 4: A Pinky Promise

Notes:

Uriel comes back!!!
New character appearance? 👀
Also thank you guys for the kudos and comments!!!
They really make my day 😭
Anyways enjoy!

Chapter 4; A Pinky Promise  

Daytime chatter filled the streets as rushing cars sped through, the sun glimmered radiantly as its rays flooded the sidewalk.  

Dokja’s legs ached from the endless walking as he footslogged through the vibrant crowd, fatigue creeping in with each step.  

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out,   

“Kim Dokja!”  

He immediately spun around at the call and spotted a dazzling face among the crowd.  

Platinum, luscious hair glistened under the day light as the shine of emerald green eyes emboldened.  

Her black sunglasses crowned her head, a black lace intertwined through her braided locks.  

She wore a flower embellished chiffon scarf that draped around her neck with a thin golden chain that hung daintily.  

Underneath was a black v-collared, rippling, frilly dress that reached a little below the knees.   

A black corset with gilded flowers cinched her waist as thin golden chains wrapped around her torso.  

Uriel excitedly waved her hand towards him, revealing black lace gloves and cuffs that adorned her hands and started briskly walking towards him.  

Her platformed, black calf boots resounded against the pavement as she approached, slithering deftly through the crowd while clutching her black purse.  

“Too many people out in the streets this morning, anyways... Hi! I didn’t expect to see you here, do you live near?” she greeted, wiping the non-existent sweat off her forehead.  

“No, I was visiting a... friend, what are you doing here?” he replied hesitantly showing a polite smile.  

“Oh, just wandering around, nothing is better than a daily walk in the sunlight... which I think you could use.” she answered while adding a snide remark in passing then frowned as she saw his face closer.  

“Alright, no need for the drive by-”  

“What happened to your face!”  

“What?-”  

Two gloved hands shot out and cupped his face then proceeded to ruthlessly pinch his cheeks.  

“How did it get worst! Are you trying to sabotage yourself?!” she worriedly reprimanded while her face displayed a distressed expression.  

“I’ll think you’re trying to sabotage me if you keep pinching me.” he gritted as the fingers stretched his skin then weakly grabbed both of her wrists to restrain the aggressive culprits.  

She pouted and finally withdrew her hands.  

Dokja let out a sigh of relief rubbing his reddened cheeks hoping the painful stinging will subside.  

Then the chastising voice continued,  

“Last time I saw you the bruises weren’t that bad, and they weren’t that many!”  

He avoided her eyes and scratched his head.  

“Well, uh... funny story.” he said, pausing for a second, rapidly concocting a believable excuse. “So, I was innocently walking through the park, admiring the green greenery and the feathered birds, until...”  

He tightened his grip on the bag.  

“I got hit in the face by a flying soccer ball. He dramatically mimicked a ball hitting his face with his fist and continued. Then, as I was bending down to pick the offending ball up, a second one came smashing through, colliding solidly with my face.”  

He pondered for a second, glimpsing up.  

“And... that’s the story.”  

He directed his eyes back to the platinum haired woman.  

Skeptical, squinting eyes swept across him with a distrustful gaze.  

He froze and added,  

“Therefore... that’s how I wounded up with two bruises.” and gave a clumsy smile.  

The gaze deepened.  

His hand slowly lifted the plastic to his shoulder as he continued this one-sided conversation.  

“Anyways... I’ve got to go, you see... I have some books to drop off at the library, so I’ll be heading out.” his eyes glanced both ways before slowly backing away from the ominous stare.  

He then turned around, his leisure pace gradually quickening.  

Unexpectedly, an elegant hand grasped his shoulder, startled, a light squeak escaped him as he was forcefully twirled around.  

He briefly stumbled from the sudden movement whipping both of his arms to stabilize himself.  

“What’s in the bag?” she asked, eyeing the suspicious white bag he held.  

“I-uh... leftover food.” he quickly responded.  

She slowly nodded and retreated her hand, her eyes then glimpsing at his bandaged arm.  

A tinge of gloom tugged at her, but in the end, she said nothing.  

Then, she looked up and exclaimed in a cheerful manner, "If it doesn’t bother you, would you mind trying out this recently opened cafe with me? I heard the deserts and coffee are amazing!” she clasped her hands together with a sparkling, hopeful gaze.  

Dokja wasn’t sure if it was the glimmering eyes that peered at him or the cancerous rays that beamed at him, but he felt a drop of sweat roll from his forehead.  

“Uhm... sure, I could take a moment out of my day to accompany you.” he reluctantly accepted the invitation and was abruptly tugged by the wrist.  

“Let’s go!” Uriel chirped excitedly pulling his hand as she dragged him to an unknown direction across the road.  

-  

Kim Dokja doesn’t know how long he’s been walking, but he’s sure it has been at least an hour.  

‘Is this cafe located at the other side of the world?’  

The tip of his shoes started scraping against the pavement tiles (pretty sure he’s going to have to throw them away after) as he shuffled his feet, already regretting his decision in to accepting Uriel’s offer.  

His clothes, wait no Yoo Joonghyuk’s clothes clung slightly to his skin due to the little amount of sweat from walking under the sun.  

‘I’m definitely going to have to wash them after this... I feel like I’m forgetting something.’  

‘Wait... we never exchanged numbers.’ he blinked at the realization.  

‘Whatever, I’m sure I’ll figure something out.’  

“How long have we been walking?” he asks, exhaustion dripping from his words.  

“It has been about... ten minutes.” she responds with a shiny smile, only enthusiasm dripped from her words.  

Dokja internally groaned at the slow-paced time.  

The same ache in his back still persisted.  

‘Why did I have to roll off the bed.’  

An overjoyed voice cut off his inner complaints,  

“We’re here!”  

He staggered as he was suddenly hauled forward in a quaint corner of the bustling street.  

He lightly turned and spotted the building that Uriel headed towards to.  

The cafe seemed small from the outside, its patio was surrounded by short wooden fences, painted in a sage green color with wisterias hanging delicately through the gaps.  

As he approached, he noticed the white chairs had light brown cushions decorated with a repeating white heart motif, and the equally white tables and laced parasols had small wisteria patterns that traced their edges.  

Freshly painted white walls stood steadily with various vines and plants that draped the striped, sage green awning with a white board placed above written “Companion’s Cafe”.  

‘Awful name choice... doesn’t even fit the aesthetic’  

Underneath were windows divided in multiple panes, some of them were stained-glass with sun designs while others were crystalline; deprived of filth.  

Uriel jubilantly opened the door; a melodious chime sounded through the cafe.  

The interior gave a homely, cozy feel, the lights were sculpted into yellow roses. They drooped down from a thin wire and dimly illuminated the area.  

Small circular, beige tables crowded the room with accompanying cushioned stools, each one supporting a glass vase with different flowers.  

He followed Uriel’s lead and walked up to the counter.  

White walls brandished the area, at the ordering area, a verdant garden was painted in a geometric abstract way with soft colors in the back. In the glass displays were multiple tempting pastries who laid patiently on white trays.  

“Hello, welcome to “Companion’s Cafe”, what would you like to order?” a flat voice asked, clearly unwilling to be there.  

Dokja looked up and saw a short girl, she looked to be in high school, so about the same age as him.  

She had short, fine black hair that hovered just above her shoulders. Thick bangs framed her short face while a beauty mark was situated under the left of her angled eyes.  

She was petite and thin, nicely proportioned with white skin, most people would describe her as rather beautiful.  

The girl showed an obviously forced smile, slightly gritting her teeth.  

On her sage green apron was a name tag that displayed “Han Sooyoung”.  

She seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember where he saw her.  

He glanced up at the menu above her head, it presented a wide variety of deserts with their main ingredients and images. Next to it was the coffee menu, except with less varied options.  

A cheerful voice perked up next to him, “May I have an iced vanilla, caramel latte with one serving of injeolmi?”  

“And you?” the girl turned to him.  

“I’ll have one serving of bingsu and a strawberry ade.”  

“Mk, so your orders will be served soon, please take a seat anywhere in the cafe.”  

Dokja went and casually explored the room, observing closely, he noted that the cafe was quite empty, contradicting the overwhelming praises Uriel sputtered during their ten-minute  one hour walk.  

His tattered shoes glided against the tiled floor as he approached the two-person table he found near the window.  

He calmly settled his bitter-smelling bag underneath the stool and took a seat.  

The chair was lightly rigid and there wasn’t a back support, thus he either had to sit up straight or hunch himself on the table, which both of those options would leave him with a stiff back.  

He ultimately opted to sit up straight for his dignity and non-existent reputation.  

‘Maybe this is why this cafe is so empty.’  

Uriel sat in front of him with a lady-like posture, both hands on her purse, admiring the stain-glass panes on the windows.  

“So, what do you think? This cafe is pretty cozy, right?” she asked, carefully adjusting her scarf.  

“Yeah, gives a little homey vibe, it’s also well-decorated.” he remarked, sweeping across the aesthetic embellishments.  

“Have you thought about it?”  

“Thought about what?” Dokja furrowed his eyebrows confused on her ambiguous phrasing.  

“My offer.”  

He let out a small oh at those words.  

“Well...” he stalled with a nervous smile as he fiddled with his fingers.  

“You haven’t thought about it?”  

“Uh...”  

‘He has not thought about it at all.’  

Suddenly, a songlike ringtone sounded from Uriel’s purse, interrupting the weight of her expecting gaze.  

She hurriedly pulled out her phone, glanced at the number and silently bit her lip.  

“Sorry, I have to take this, I'll be back in a couple of moments, you can start eating without me.” she rapidly excused herself and exited the cafe.  

“Alright.” he muttered.  

He turned his head towards the windows.  

The stained-glass panes had a little sun on them, each one a different color than the ones surrounding them.  

The soft sunlight traversed through translucent glass, forming a curious shape on the wooden, circular table.  

His fingers rhythmically tapped against the hard surface producing a satisfying tap sound.  

But he quickly got tired of the noise and stuffed his hand into his pocket to whip out his miserable, severely damaged phone and resumed reading his newly found web novel “Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World”.  

‘If he had to be honest, the novel was horrible, but it had some sort of charm that kept him reading.’  

Absorbed in the web novel, he didn’t notice the footsteps that drew closer to him nor the black bob that peeked over his shoulder.  

“What are you reading?”  

Startled, he abruptly dropped his phone on the table with a harsh thud and swiveled around his chair, accidentally tilting the stool towards the window.  

He leaned back, flailing his arms to keep balance and tilt the other direction, then rapidly shot out his hand to grab the edge of the table as to not fall off the cushion and humiliate himself more.  

Luckily, he managed not to damage his body any further.  

Unfortunately, he is now half-laying on the stool with his legs somehow in the air, and he is pretty sure he heard a crack somewhere... and broken plates.  

Just as he was about to look at the person who scared the shit out of him, an infuriated voice seethed,  

“What the fuck man!?”  

On the glinting floor stood the short-haired girl, at her feet, iced coffee snaked through the lined crevices of the tiles with still intact, caramel drizzled ice cubes puddled in the ruins of a glass cup.  

Shards of the porcelain plate splayed everywhere sprinkled with the scattered powder of the fallen rice cakes.  

He stared for a few seconds on the verge of laughing before remembering the words the worker yelled at him.  

“Why do you mean “What the heck man!?” you literally sneaked up on me, snooping on what I was reading!” Dokja argued, pulling himself back up from his half-laying position to be in a more “dignified” posture.  

“How was I supposed to know you were going to react like a thrashing geese that got sprayed with water?!” she countered, ripping off her soiled apron and approached him with heavy steps.  

“Those were graceful air acrobatics movements! And you should know better than to peek over someone’s shoulder and suddenly talk straight into their ear like a creep.” he glowered, moving closer to her as well.  

“Then you should know better than to react like that when someone finds you reading that trashy web novel.”  

“It’s not trash? Even though it’s a bit hard to read, it has a unique, intricately built plot with an interesting concept and the protagonist is pretty likable as a character.”  

“Unique, intricately built plot, my ass, it’s just one run-through of an incomplete story then repeated hundreds of times without the slightest change except each one was longer as it unnecessarily drags on.” she leaned on the table, her arm steadying her almost knocking the glass vase off and creating another mess.  

“It seems repeated to you because you obviously don’t focus on the adding details that subtly build storyline, it’s quite laughable how you’re not able to distinguish between slow build up and copy and paste stories.”  

She narrowed her eyes as if challenged and pointed out,  

“What about how each regression the protagonist does the same crap over and over again, learning absolutely nothing from his past mistakes, the author wouldn’t still be posting if the main character just actually tried to find a solution instead of bulldozing his way past every problem he encounters with the same tactics.  

If you seriously think he is likable, it’s either because you have weird taste in people or you’re a shitty person.”  

Dokja inwardly accepted her challenge and rebutted,  

“Because he struggles to adapt the strategies he planned, that’s why he must resort into using old tricks and solutions, and he also has difficulty on seeing things from new perspectives which makes it reasonable that he has to regress multiple times to advance through.”  

“The novel has shit grammar to the point that it is completely incomprehensible not to mention, the sloppy writing, honestly, I think you’re a masochist for torturing yourself into reading all those horrendous chapters, why don’t you read "SSSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor" it’s about the same concept but way better.”  

“You mean the book that plagiarized the concept?”  

“The fuck you mean “plagiarized”, the author was inspired by the idea.”  

All the sudden, a gentle voice resounded behind them,  

“Sooyoung-ssi, could you clean up the mess and not argue with the customers please, we’re really grateful towards you for substituting for Sangah-ssi while she’s sick, but this behavior is not very acceptable.”  

Han Sooyoung whipped her head towards the woman before scowling.  

Then proceeded to glare at Kim Dokja and headed towards the counter to bring a mop while muttering a few obscenities under her breath.  

He smirked with a victorious grin and glanced at the kind woman.  

“I’m very sorry sir, we’ll give you this order for free as compensation.” the woman hurriedly bowed in front of him, offering her excuses.  

“Ah, of course, no worries, the accident was totally understandable, plus this wasn’t even mine.” Dokja quickly waved his hands to dismiss the polite bowing.  

As she left, he grabbed his phone, inspecting it to see if it was broken.  

Fortunately, it was still working.  

The familiar sound of boots sounded beside him.  

“What happened here?” Uriel walked towards him, curiously observing the mess that dirtied the spotless floor.  

“Just a small mishap, nothing to worry about. They said they’ll give us free food as compensation.” he gave a small smile, evidently not wanting to explain the embarrassing incident.  

“Oh, that’s so lovely of them!” she gleamed before taking back her seat, settling her purse on her lap with both hands covering the bag.  

“So, I gave you enough time to think about it, do you accept or not?” she went directly to the point.  

“Oh... uhm.” he anxiously glanced at the ordering area, hoping that they could already bring in their food and to interrupt this moment.  

“I can give your more time if that’s what you need, it’s not a big deal.”  

“It’s not that, it’s just...” he hesitated to continue.  

She stared at him inquisitively, awaiting his answer.  

“Is it really worth it to be an idol?”  

“Is it worth it to you?”  

“Well... I’m not sure.”  

An uncomfortable sensation pricked at his bandaged arm.  

He lightly scratched to soothe it.  

“Why did you choose me specifically?”  

Uriel light-heartedly laughed, her gloved hands clutching her purse as to not let it fall.  

“Didn’t I already tell you the reason?”  

“No, not really.”  

“Then let me tell you again.” she placed her elbows on the table and placed her face between her hands.  

And with a soft gaze, she proceeded,  

“You are a beautiful person with unique features and a lovable face, even though I haven’t known you for long, I know you have a charming personality and I’m sure much more interesting hobbies and thoughts.  

Your demeanor, the way you carry yourself are unintentionally endearing and comic that draws people in. You are able to captivate people’s attention regardless of the situation.  

I haven’t heard you sing, but just listening to your voice, it’s quiet and calm. It gives a sense of comfort, and I can see the hidden talent.  

You may be doubting yourself, but that’s fine, that shows you know your faults.  

For all that, you show the potential of being the affectionate and winsome idol that everyone cherishes whether for his clumsy, relatable self or lulling, appeasing voice.  

And that’s why I chose you.”  

A solace silence hummed as a small warmth melded into Dokja’s heart.  

He rapidly blinked as he felt his eyes blurring.  

Then whispered softly,  

“Thank you.”  

Uriel showed a radiant smile, proudly displaying her pearly white teeth as they glinted in the dim sunlight.  

He paused for a second before confidently saying,  

“I’ll give my answer tomorrow.”  

“Promise?”  

“Promise.”  

He pulled out his pinky finger and heard a gentle chuckle.  

She took out her laced finger and slowly interlaced it with his.  

 

Chapter 5: Splintered Swing

Notes:

Love yall for the kudos and bookmarks!
Thank you for encouraging me to continue writing, it really melts my heart.
Here's a Yoo Joonghyuk centric chapter and a small dive in the past.
Enjoy!

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t remember his parents.  

All he remembers is a closing door and a blunt goodbye for work.  

Leaving him in a desolate house, only inked papers keeping him company.  

Numerous people came and went, they never stayed for another day.  

But they taught him a lot of things which he is thankful for. Their soft touches and patient instructions quietly guided him.  

Yet he hated the way they looked at him.  

Their staring eyes pitied him.  

As though they understood something.  

Lulling voices attempted to reassure him,  

“Your parents are so proud of you.”  

“They’ll come back soon.”  

“Your parents are really lucky for having a diligent son like you.”  

He still remembers the day and only time his father praised him.  

The melodious notes resounded in the cold room as his slender fingers pressed on the porcelain keys of the piano. The crystalline window prevented the warm summer breeze from slipping in as an aloof voice monotoned empty praises replacing its soothing presence.  

Then, his father slipped out of the room at the middle of the piece to answer his ringing phone.  

He never finished it.  

His whole childhood passed within that house.  

Cold, marble flooring stung his bare feet, the clear clacks of plates sang with the gushing water, the repeating tics of the antique clock reverberated in his head as he waited for his parents.  

Then one day, as he played the piano, he noticed a distant figure outside the window.  

On the other side of the glass was a small playground.  

No one ever played there, it just sat there, clustering the space.  

So, it was surprising to see someone there.  

They were playfully gliding against the wind on the creaky, splintered swing.  

The nanny was reading her books, her finger skimming the edge of a coffee-stained page.  

And for the first time, he made a decision for himself.  

He slipped on his leather shoes and discreetly stepped out of the house, his small steps resonated against the paved entrance as he observed the tree-lined street.  

The flourishing leaves danced peacefully in the morning sunlight as the chirping birds sang their melodies.  

The harsh clacks stopped as he stepped off the concrete, tall grasses grazing his skin.  

He approached the quiet playground, eyes fixed on the swaying figure.  

It was a boy.  

He had thin black hair, strands carelessly tussled as they fought against the blustery wind.  

His eyes crinkled with long eyelashes that tickled his pale skin as a soft smile graced his face.  

Dangling feet swayed with the momentum, seemingly loose shoes nearly falling off from his mismatched socks.  

Joonghyuk stood there dazed, simply content at admiring the cheery smile.  

He didn’t notice the creak as the swing stopped nor the small silhouette that drew near.  

“ Do you want to play on the swing with me? ”  

“...”  

The wondering voice echoed in his head.  

The boy tilted his head, his hair momentarily covered his mouth as a breeze passed.  

His glistering eyes reflected the gentle sunlight as they gleamed with hope and anticipation.  

Without a thought, he silently nodded.  

The boy’s smile grew wider as he displayed a toothy grin with a black gap that replaced the missing tooth.  

He outstretched his hand with his palm overturned, his index finger swaddled with a beige, bloodied bandage.  

“ Let’s go? ”  

The words lingered.  

Joonghyuk hesitantly reached out.  

His unscathed fingers hovered above the waiting hand.  

The quiet wind brushed his ear, like a whisper urging him forward.  

Then, he gently lowered his hand on the warm palm.  

!  

The strident ring of the alarm clock chimed in his ear.  

Joonghyuk tiredly rubbed his weary eyes as he dawdled on the silken sheets for a moment, his thoughts remained on the gentle hand.  

The morning dew cascaded from the spotless windows, calmly drizzling down.  

He then rose from the soft bed raising his arms to crack the rigid bones, slipping his legs from the light blanket as he toed the fluffy slippers.  

With a swift movement, he neatly rearranged the blanket to perfectly cover the bed. Unfortunately, the sides drooped lopsidedly over the edges.  

A frown embraced his face as he tugged the quilt downwards to create a satisfying symmetry.  

After a few rounds of endless tugging and pulling, the bed was finally made.  

With slow steps, he begrudgingly trudged towards the unlit bathroom, his finger lightly flicked the light switch, and dim lights illuminated the once obscure room.  

He smoothly opened the black cabinet and sluggishly reached out for the dental floss, then moved towards the counter.  

A tall figure appeared as the mirror lightly shone in the dull light.  

A haggard, but handsome face was reflected, hair slightly scuffled, deadpanned expression with half-awake double-lidded eyes.  

He was about to peacefully floss his straight teeth, but was soon interrupted as a shout resounded from downstairs,  

“OPPA!”  

The day has finally started.  

-  

“Did something happen? You usually wake up earlier than this.” Yoo Mia asked while aggressively skewering her blueberries with her fork, unbothered by the dripping juice that stained the white plate.  

“Don’t play with your food.” Joonghyuk chided as he calmly finished his breakfast, shoving the chair backwards with a piercing screech.  

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” she muttered before swallowing all the punctured berries in one gulp.  

“Your teacher told me that they replaced the 26 th with a school day because of the earlier snowstorm in December.” he said, easily sliding rubber gloves on his hand as he grabbed the sponge near the dishrack.  

“What!? They can’t do that! I made plans with Shin Yoosung to the movies that day!”  

- Then cancel them and plan for another time.  

- But we already brought the tickets! Wasn’t it you who told me that it was bad wasting money!  

- Refund them.  

- We can’t, we bought them online, they said no refunds.  

- ...  

- We won’t be wasting money if I don’t go to school that day.  

- You’re not skipping school.  

- I didn’t know Oppa prefers wasting money than donating to the poor, what a heartless, cruel brother I have.  

- That’s not going to work.  

- Please!  

- No.  

- Pleaseeee!  

- No.  

- I’ll add an hour to my study time!  

- That’s a lie.  

- No! I promise. Even a pinky promise!  

- Last time you broke the pinky promise.  

- That was one time! Please!  

- No.  

- Why do I have to go to school while you can stay home.  

- Because you’re not homeschooled.  

“That’s unfair.” she muttered disdainfully.  

“If you were homeschooled you wouldn’t’ve met all your friends.” he replied exhausted as he searched for something in the cabinets.  

She narrowed her eyes and scornfully glowered at the crouching figure of her brother.  

“... I'm going” she angrily jumped off her chair, yanked her backpack and stormed off towards the door.  

Joonghyuk followed with a sparkly, glimmering lunchbox, embellished with rhinestones and fuzzy stickers.  

“Do you need me to walk you to school?” he handed the shiny box.  

“No.” she ruthlessly snatched it, grumbling small complaints.  

And with that, the door closed.  

Strangely, the injured boy with a soft smile appeared in his thoughts with his gentle words,  

“Goodbye, Yoo Joonghyuk.”  

-  

He smoothly settled on his desk, a daunting pile of books towered in front of him, threatening to fall over any moment.  

A hand quietly opened his laptop, and he calmly organized his post-its as he waited for the screen to activate.  

Silence consumed his room.  

In the stillness, blurry fuzz surrounded his vision for a second, slurring the inked words as he felt his body growing heavier.  

The slow tick of the clock grew distant as the room blackened.  

He didn’t know how, but he slumped against his desk and started to dream again.  

-  

The boy tugged him forward, excitement boiling within him, obvious with his incessant giggles.  

Their pace little by little quickened, reluctant steps gradually turning into running through the greenery.  

Blithe wind blew, swirling the fallen leaves as they glided past.  

Suddenly, loose shoes stopped, anchoring themselves in the dirt as they stumbled in front of the play pit where unmoving sand piled endlessly.  

Joonghyuk glanced at him, confused on why he stopped, thankfully the boy answered his question,  

“It’s not good to run in there, eomma said the sand will get in our shoes and stick to our socks.” he then pulled him forward, carefully walking through.  

“Last time I didn’t listen to her and got yelled at by appa.” his gleeful tone darkened, but he immediately cheered up and exclaimed, “There’s the swings!”  

In front of them was a wooden swing set, slightly unstable with frayed ropes that barely held on. The seat was fairly wide with splintered edges, it swung peacefully.  

They hastily approached and the boy turned to him and asked with a curious glint,  

“Have you ever played with the swing before?”  

He slowly shook his head.  

“Then get on, I’ll push you!” he enthusiastically invited him with a soft pat on the plank as he settled himself behind.  

Nervous, Joonghyuk stared hesitantly at the hand, starting to regret his decision.  

“It’s alright to feel scared the first time, I’ll push you gently if that’s what you’re worried about.” The boy peered at him and showed an unlucky smile.  

Reassured, he embraced his courage.  

Bit by bit, he advanced towards the swing and finally sat on the splintered seat, grabbing both ropes to steady himself.  

A bandaged finger poked him, he peeked over shoulder to glance at the culprit.  

“My name’s Kim Dokja by the way, what’s yours?”  

“...”  

He looked at him peculiarly before asking,  

“You don’t talk?”  

Joonghyuk pondered for a second before nodding his head, looking down at his feet ashamed.  

“That’s fine, eomma told me to be kind to everyone, no matter what.” he displayed a toothy grin again then continued, “It also doesn’t matter because now I can tell you my favorite stories! Eomma was too busy to listen to them.”  

Excited, Dokja placed two hands steadily on his back.  

“Tell me if- wait no... shake your head four times if you want me to stop.”  

He nodded his head and braced himself by tightening his grip on the ropes.  

And with that, warm palms pressed against him and lightly pushed.  

The refreshing, delicate breeze skated freely, it soothingly caressed his cheek, skimming across the smooth expanse of skin.  

The fluttering strands of hair tickled the back of his neck as the wind billowed his buttoned shirt.  

His white shorts scratched against the rough wood, producing a swish sound each time he raised his legs.  

Leather shoes clung desperately to his feet as his white socks slowly rolled down, exposing his calves to the enlivening cold.  

He felt a weak force resisting his presence as he soared upwards with his heartbeat quickening, the hairs that clouded his face flew to his sides.  

A delighted voice rang in his ear,  

“Do you want me to push you higher?”  

Without a single thought, he nodded, impatiently waiting for the carefree feeling.  

An untamed gust flurried around him as his body swung higher, his heart pulsed faster, the chilly breeze alleviated the reluctance that simmered within him.  

The sun glimmered brightly, Joonghyuk glimpsed behind him, soft rays casted a hazy light on the twinkling eyes of Dokja, irradiating his fair complexion.  

While he dangled backwards, he heard a nearly imperceptible snap of a string. Before he could’ve signaled a problem, the frayed rope splintered.  

His white shorts slid harshly against the rough wood as he rapidly tilted to the side, he quickly reacted and grasped the other “sturdy” rope with both hands.  

Realizing what was happening, Dokja immediately stopped pushing, used all his strength to steady the swaying seat and panickily hugged the silent boy from the side to stop him from falling.  

Once everything stabilized, an awkward stillness hung between the two.  

Feeling his arms gradually weakening, Joonghyuk released his grip and let himself fall into the warm embrace of the boy.  

A sinking heaviness pressed against him, he felt his legs giving up, unable to withstand the increasing weight, Dokja stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the soft ground.  

Golden particles splayed everywhere, befogging the area, as unceasing giggles resounded in the empty playground.  

He threw his head back, back hitting the small mound of sand.  

A choked voice asked, still chuckling,  

“Pfft- are you alright? I’m sorry, I should’ve checked the swing before inviting you.”  

Head against the trembling stomach, Joonghyuk tilted his chin up to glare at the laughing boy.  

“No need to stare at me like that, wait.”  

He paused and started shoving his hand in his back pocket, seemingly searching for something.  

“Here, as an apology.” his hand dangled a round candy, enveloped in a silver, shiny wrapper.  

He stared at it questionably, curious of what he was showing him.  

“It’s chocolate.”  

Wary eyes focused on the sheen of the suspicious wrapper, unwilling to grab it.  

The boy’s expression saddened at his reluctance.  

“You don’t want it?”  

At those words, Joonghyuk rapidly turned to face him then snatched the candy from his grasp.  

Delicate fingers peeled off the wrapper, ensuring not to tear the fragile paper before plopping it in his mouth.  

His tongue swirled around the round candy, tasting its melting flavor then his eyebrows furrowed at the overwhelming sweetness that disgraced his mouth.  

“It’s too sweet?” Dokja asked, eyeing the perfectly intact wrapper.  

The chewing boy nodded with an unappreciative glance and stuffed the paper in his pocket.  

“That’s a shame, it was the last one I had that wasn’t squished.” he sighed looking down.  

At those words, Joonghyuk rose from the ground, uncaring for his dirtied clothes and swept his eyes across the area  

Before gesturing towards the roundabout and mimicked a spinning movement with a twirl of his finger.  

Dokja’s head perked up, fluttering strands bouncing with him.  

“You’ll push me in the merry go round?” his eyes brightened as he leaned closer to him.  

With a resolute nod, Joonghyuk grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the roundabout.  

It was the first time he offered something before it was asked of him.  

-  

“Uhh, too dizzy.” Dokja slurred before slumping onto him, head leaning on his shoulder.  

He supported the light weight while dragging him towards the lonely bench.  

A soft thud resounded as he landed on the harsh wood, splayed like a star while Joonghyuk stared at him.  

“Hey... why are there two of-no.”  

He paused sluggishly pointing his finger counting non-visible people as he muttered,  

“One, two, three... five!?” his eyes widened as he quickly sat up.  

A tearful pain pierced his head.  

“OW! My head hurts.” he yelped then slapped a hand at his forehead to soothe the momentary throbbing pain and fell back down.  

Joonghyuk hesitantly placed a hand on top of his and lightly caressed his head.  

Suddenly, a childish giggle sputtered from the woozy boy as he scooted and patted the empty space next to him.  

“Come sit, you must be tired from spinning me.”  

At this invitation, his movements slightly stuttered unsure on how to react.  

But seeing the soft gaze, he ultimately plopped down beside him and glanced at him.  

“Why are you looking at me- oh hey, your hair is a bit of a mess, let me fix it.”  

Before he could stop it, a wandering hand reached out and delicately tucked a couple of strands behind his ear then combed his fingers through the soft hair the smoothen the bumps.  

“Much better.” he flashed an unlucky smile again.  

“Have you ever heard the story of the quiet sunfish?”  

Joonghyuk shook his head.  

“It’s one of my favorite stories!” the boy exclaimed joyously.  

Then tilted his head curiously, “Do you want to hear it?”  

He nodded.  

“Ok! So once upon a time, there lived a grouchy sunfish. From childhood, he didn’t like to talk. He barely spoke to his parents, classmates, teachers, because he thought it was a waste of time.  

Then one day, while swimming in the blue sea, he spotted a squid. The poor squid was stuck underneath a rock and couldn’t get out! So, when he saw the sunfish, he was super happy.  

But the mean sunfish thought it was a waste of time saving him and was about to leave. Suddenly, the squid used its tentacle to grab the sunfish and told him “I won’t let go until you help me!”  

Sadly, the sunfish was very stubborn and decided to stay there without helping. Now, the squid and the sunfish were both stuck under a rock.  

They waited seconds, minutes, hours, but no one came.  

The squid was fed up and mad and thought it was time to escape. So, he quickly made a plan in his head.  

He was going to befriend the sunfish! But what he didn’t know was...  

The sunfish hated speaking!  

Except, the squid didn’t know that, so he continued with his seemingly foolproof plan.  

He asked in a friendly tone, “What’s your name? Mine is Squiddy.”  

The sunfish grunted in answer.  

The squid wasn’t going to let that make him give up and asked another question, “What’s your favorite color? Mine is black.”  

Still no response.  

Squiddy was getting impatient and asked a last question “What’s your favorite food? Mine are Murim dumplings with chicken broth.”  

The sunfish glanced at him with a glint in his eyes, but in the end, gave no answer.  

The squid ultimately accepted that his plan has failed and decided to make a new one.  

It was...  

To give the grouchy sunfish a big hug! With lots of loves.  

So, he raised his other tentacle and gave a big hug to the sunfish!  

Overwhelmed by the sudden love, the mean sunfish finally spoke,  

“I also like Murim dumplings.”  

Squiddy’s eyes sparkled and said, “If you help me, I’ll let you go and cook some Murim dumplings for you.”  

The fish hesitated for moment and nodded.  

Overjoyed, the squid let him go and the sunfish kindly pushed the rock that crushed him.  

He then invited the sunfish to his house and cooked him a bunch of Murim dumplings!  

The end”  

“What do you think, did you like it?” Dokja glimpsed at him with a wide grin.  

Joonghyuk gently nodded with a thumbs up.  

“Which character was your favorite? I liked the squid because I love Murim dumplings with chicken broth and black and-oh! He made the grouchy sunfish talk! That makes him a real genius.”  

“Do you like him too?” he questioned with anticipating eyes.  

The silent boy avoided his gaze and shook his head, clutching the silver wrapper in his pocket.  

“You like the sunfish?”  

He nodded, ashamed.  

“That’s funny. Because I think you’re like the sunfish, grumpy but when I show a little bit of love, you become a big softy!” he displayed a tender smile.  

Then let out a dramatic gasp as he realized something.  

He spread his arms wide and asked,  

“Do you want a hug?”  

The boy with black scuffled hair, grey eyes that didn’t dim the intense twinkle and an unlucky smile gazed at him.  

Something etched in his heart.  

As if entranced, Joonghyuk also opened his arms and was soon enveloped in an affectionate embrace.  

He felt every touch, the tussled hair that annoyingly tickled his face, the quiet breath that melted into his skin, the lingering fingers that gently grasped his clothes, the howling wind that whistled in his ear as the night gradually rose.  

And the warmth that radiated from the loving boy.  

With an itching twitch, he felt the corners of him mouth rise upwards;  

A small smile kissed his face.  

And with that, the boy finally let him go.  

Dokja lifted his head towards the sky and softly said with a sigh,  

“I need to go it’s already getting late.” he turned to face him and with a small wave of a hand he whispered “Goodbye.”  

Then ran to whatever direction he came from.  

-  

That night, Yoo Joonghyuk returned home and sat at the piano.  

But he didn’t play.  

Instead, he just listened — to the echo of the swing’s creak, the wind in the leaves, and the voice of a boy who never stopped talking.  

He slowly took out a crinkled, silver wrapper.  

With a pinch of a finger, he smoothened its edges, carefully caressed it and with a soft whisper, he said,  

“Kim Dokja.”  

Chapter 6: Brown Paper Bag

Notes:

Chapter 6!
Will Kim Dokja say yes? (maybe, maybe not)
Thank you for the comments & kudos as you all know i'm superrrr happy <3
Enjoy!

The waning moonlight pierced through the narrow slit in the curtains. Outside the small window of Kim Dokja’s apartment, the city buzzed with the leftover chaos of night.  

Here he was sitting on his stiff bed, back aching, hand still somehow stinging with a body swaddled in bandages that he was too tired to replace.  

His hand hung limply over his head as an incredibly bright screen flashed before him, his numb finger hovered above between the next chapter button and the tab of a Wikipedia page about an idol he randomly chose.  

He didn’t know if it was the exhaustion that was finally wearing on him or him slowly sinking into the long-due insanity, but he felt an angel and a devil on each side of his shoulder sputtering utter bullshit—no, dangerously reasonable bullshit.  

“Click on the Wikipedia page, it’s main priority! You promised Uriel to give her an answer!” Angel Dokja screeched, his voice painfully high-pitched as he jabbed a finger at the tab.  

“Who cares about Uriel?” Devil Dokja grumbled, in a low and guttural voice. “What matters is the new chapter of this trashy web novel. You can think later — it’s just yes or no. Easy.” his hand slowly succumbed to the desire as it approached the next button.  

“It’s much more than that! It’s a decision that will completely change our life! We must think seriously about it!” the feathered, tiny human rapidly approached the devil and swatted his sneaky hand away.  

“That’s the dumbest take I’ve ever heard. It’s like cramming for a final.” The red-winged creature wiped his hand against his clothes with a disgusted expression.  

“Exactly! We always fail when we do that!”   

“...”  

And with a reluctant grunt, Dokja clicked on the Wikipedia page.  

Search: Popular Idols  

Aphrodite, born ---- -, ----, also known as the goddess of love and beauty, is a solo singer and actress. She first debuted as a singer under Constellations Entertainment in ---- ----. She made her acting debut with a cameo role in the popular series Banquet of Good and Evil and played her first leading role in the SSBC series Venus, planet of love.  

In ---- ----, she released her debut single album Desire which became the best-selling album by a female soloist in ---- ---- and the first to sell over a million copies.  

She...  

‘I give up.’  

He tossed his phone flat on his bed with a soft thud and sighed.  

‘What do I even search.’  

‘Wait...’  

A discreet wince escaped him as he sharply turned on his throbbing side to pick up his fallen phone.  

Search: Benfits fo bein an idol  

These are the results for benefits of being an idol  

Search instead for Benfits fo bein an idol  

Being a K-pop idol offers numerous potential benefits, including fame, financial rewards, the opportunity to travel...   

-  

InfoNation • i/idolthoughts  

Is it worth it becoming an idol?  

While scrolling through forums, I’ve found many people debating on whether it’s worth it to pursue an idol career. With large, endless threads and arguments, pointing the various disadvantages and benefits that comes with this status.  

So, I’ve decided.   

What’s the harm in making a pros & cons list of the idol career?  

PROS:  

Obvious first, Fame & Recognition:  

By showcasing your talents and efforts, you can achieve widespread fame and popularity domestically (globally if you’re lucky). Your name will be recognized by many people who will support and love you, celebrating every achievement you earn (some a bit too obsessive, but we’ll jump into that later.)  

Second, Financial Compensation:  

Idols often earn big, and I tell you BIG incomes through...  

CONS:  

Firstly, SUPER Intense Training:  

Once you become an idol, you’ll have to go through strict training in various disciplines, including singing, dancing, and language skills. This rigorous overexertion often leads to work injuries, sleep-deprivation, and a lot more. (so basically, working yourself to death)  

Second, Deteriorating Mental Health:  

From a constant smile, always doing fanservice, etc, etc, if one, single time you slip up and show a little frown, it can lead to you getting canceled EVEN being the target of massive cyberbullying...  

-  

‘Okay, so you can become a superstar — if you're likable enough — but in return, you get broken health and deranged stalkers. Great deal.  

Fall off, and you lose your dignity and get cyberbullied into oblivion with possible debt milking all life out of you.’  

‘Too bad I’m already soulless’  

‘Either way I’m going to have bad physical and mental health.’  

...Already checked those off the list. Don’t think it can get any worse, honestly.’  

‘If anything, fame would just mean more people to disappoint.’  

‘Is it really worth it?’  

He lingered on the thought... then clicked the next chapter.  

As he read with squinted eyes, he felt his mind wandering elsewhere, he kept losing track of the storyline, forgetting meanings of words and repeating phrases to the point that the entire paragraph was practically embedded in his head.   

The repetitive words gradually slurred, slowly transforming into meshed blobs, it didn’t help with the hazardous writing, awful grammar and the amazingly bright screen he tortured himself with.  

‘Fuck it.’  

Search: Hwo to be likble  

These are the results for how to be likable  

Search instead for hwo to be likble  

‘What am I doing with my life.”  

-  

The greyish blue sky hovered menacingly above Dokja’s head, the soft, innocent-looking clouds threatened to rain at any moment, drenching his uniform and hair that finally behaved this week.  

His legs dangled carefree from the ledge, as untied laces swayed like a pendulum.  

A cold breeze slipped under his thin clothing, causing a shudder to run down his back.  

Fingers gripped the concrete edge as he gazed towards an unknown point in the cloudy sky.  

He felt his begrimed shoe gradually slipping off, but he couldn’t care less.   

In fact, he hoped it would slip off then it would be hilarious watching someone get attacked by a falling shoe that supposedly descended from heaven.  

Headlines would be-  

“YOU.”  

A vaguely familiar voice suddenly resounded behind him.  

He quickly whipped his head, peeking over his shoulder to look behind him and spotted a recognizable bob from a distance.  

‘What the hell... why is she here?!’  

Dokja quickly swiveled from his position to face her and jumped off the ledge, landing smoothly on the flat ground of the rooftop.  

With steady steps, he walked towards the angered figure, his head held high.  

“Why are you here? Did you follow me here out of spite just because I insulted your precious book?” he spat and slightly leaned forward, almost stumbling on his untied laces.  

“No dickhead, not everything’s about you. I go to school here.” Sooyoung retorted with a brown lunch bag in hand.  

Her gaze swept across his body with a judgmental stare.  

“Where’s your lunch?” she asked eyeing his empty hands.  

“Why do you care? Don’t you-”  

She glanced at him and frowned, “You’re going to get skinnier than you already are, but you’re right what do I care.”  

Then, her hand aggressively opened the paper bag and pulled out a black notebook, in a small corner it was labeled “Kim Dokja”.  

“You left it on a bench. I read it, got some good stuff in there, even though they’re just lyrics and small story snippets.” the short-haired girl handed it to him.  

“Uh, thanks I guess-hey! What’s your problem in peeking in other people’s stuff.” he was about to grab the notebook before the hand yanked it away.  

“What the-”  

She stashed it back in the brown bag and offered,  

“I’ll give it back to you if you beta read my chapters.”  

A confused expression was painted on his face, he furrowed his eyebrows hoping she would elaborate.  

“Don’t give me that stupid look, you read often, don’t you? You always got your head stuffed in your phone or books. What you’re surprised that I’m an author?”  

“Yeah, kinda.” he admitted.  

She rolled her eyes.  

“So, are you going to accept it or not? If not, then I’m keeping this and stealing your lyrics and stories so I can sell them on ebuy.”  

“What? Don’t you- what do you even write?”  

“...’  

A silence stuttered between them.  

-... SSSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor.  

-... what.  

- SSSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor.  

- You wrote that plagiarized book?  

- It’s not plagiarized.  

His eyes shot a light glare at her.  

“You heard me. It’s not plagiarized.”   

“It’s literally TWSA but with worse pacing and more cleavage.”  

“Says the person who reads that neglected writing with absolutely no plot!” she paused and swiftly turned around.  

“You know what, I’m leaving and I’m taking your notebook-”  

Before she could leave, he gripped her shoulder to hold her in place and finally relented,  

“FINE! I’ll read your stupid novel.”  

A smug smirk slowly formed on her face as she brought the prized notebook back up and tossed towards him.  

“Give me your number so I can send you the chapters.”  

With a grunt, he hesitantly exchanged contacts with her.  

He quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket, just as he was about to leave, the same aggrieving voice asked,  

“Where are you going?”  

“To the ledge, where its presence doesn’t make me want to bash my head in the concrete.”  

“I would gladly bash your head in the concrete for you.” she replies with a shit-eating grin.  

A dismissive scoff escaped him as he trudged his way towards the comforting ledge.  

As the wind whistled, and annoying strands of hair grazed his cheek, he heard light steps follow behind him.  

He stopped and asked,  

“Are you a stalker?”  

“No,” she said flatly. “I’m a fictional character who got reverse-isekaied and now has to conquer the world in a gorilla fur suit.”  

“What.”  

“You’re a fucking idiot.” She stated and continued. “Do you know how long it took me to find you? I literally searched every crevice of the library only to find you on the rooftop.”  

“Well, sorry I didn’t follow your “Threaten Kim Dokja” plan, I got better things to do then getting intimidated by someone who’s the height of those lollied anime girls.”  

“You mean being depressed on a ledge?”  

“...”  

Her eyes flicked towards his notebook momentarily before returning to him.  

“You know, you can actually sell those lyrics, i bet you’d get tons of offers.”  

“What are you talking about?” he asked, eventually reaching the edge and sat with a subtle thud on the concrete.  

“Stop being a clueless fool, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” she plopped down next to him with a pleasurable distance.  

“What? You suddenly became a musical genius?” he mocked.  

“You don’t need to be a cook to know the food is good.”  

He glimpsed at her for a moment then asked,  

“Why did you choose me as your beta reader?”  

Sooyoung pondered for a bit and answered,  

“Because you’re the only person I knew who would accept... and would be easy to threaten.”  

A deadpanned expression branded his face.  

“... Thank you, I guess?”  

“You’re welcome.” she slyly smiled.  

He looked down at his feet for a second and questioned, “Aren’t you friends with...uh-Yoo Sangah? Why didn’t she beta read for you?”  

The short-haired pulled the brown bag towards her and answered,  

“She doesn’t really read these sorts of novels, she’s more into like fancy, fancy literature.” She paused then asked. “Who was that girl with you yesterday? Is she your girlfriend?”  

“What?! No, she’s some random lady who approached me.” he denied.  

“Some random lady that ate with you at the cafe?” she raised an eyebrow, untrustful of his suspicious words.  

“Well-not really random... she’s an agent who wanted to scout me.”  

“You?” a small frown appeared on her face as her eyes swept him a second time,  

“I mean I guess I can kind of see her vision.” she acknowledged, pulling out a metal box and placing it on her lap.  

“What do you mean?”  

“You could use a bit more of fixing in your looks, but you wouldn’t be a bad idol.” she carefully removed the lid and started eating her sandwich.  

She paused, then added, more quietly, “… your lyrics aren’t half bad. You could do something with them.”  

“... Are you telling me that I should accept her offer?”  

“Subjectively, I would say no because then you wouldn’t have enough time to read my chapters, but objectively, I’m sure you could gather a few fans if you actually become an idol, so yes.” she took a small bite out of her sandwich and swallowed before continuing,  

“I’m leaning slightly towards the yes side because it would be funny seeing you fall off.”  

“Wow, thanks a lot.”  

She snorted then changed her tone to a solemn one, “But I’m serious, if you’re really considering, you should accept it. The world needs cooler songs than those cutesy, fanservice lyrics.”  

“...”  

-  

The low-pitch buzz of the refrigerator sounded in his head as he sat on the floor of his apartment. Crumpled assignments covered the ground with old books that crowded the corner.  

His fingers spun a small pencil with a chewed off eraser as he silently gazed at the endless equations that stained the white paper.  

An annoyed grunt resonated in the empty room as he threw his pencil on the ground and grabbed a business card that laid on his nightstand.  

With a reluctant hand, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.  

The incessant ringtone vibrated in his hand.  

It’s not like he had anything else to lose.  

Or maybe… he was just too tired to say no anymore.  

A small click chimed as the call started.  

“Hello?” a cheery voice rang out.  

“I accept your offer.”  

Chapter 7: Not Stabbed Insect

Notes:

Two chapters written in one day!? I'm spoiling yall ❤️
Anyways here's the next chapter.
Enjoy!

A small click chimed as the call started.  

Too late to hang up now.  

“Hello?” a cheery voice rang out.  

“I accept your offer.”  

“...”  

Dokja winced as a high-pitch squeal resounded from the call.  

“Really!?”  

“Yes, really.”  

“Ok, ok, I’ll set up a private audition for you. Make sure to note this.” rapid clicks of a keyboard resounded from the other side.  

He hastily patted the floor for a blank piece of paper.  

After a few minutes of searching, he finally decided to rip off a page from one of his old assignments.  

He stretched across the floor, arm fumbling for the fallen pencil.  

“There’s already an audition scheduled... two weeks from now, on a Saturday at 10AM at our Seoul office. No online auditions available sorry.”  

“It’s alright.”  

“Ok, I’ll sign you up! Let me give you some pointers about this audition, this is a private audition, so there won’t be a lot of people.”  

“There will be two to three evaluators, probably with a recording camera and you’re going to have to present yourself in front of them by stating your name, age, nationality.  

Then you’re going to have to list some of your hobbies and skills and if you’ve been trained or not. Afterwards, you’ll state the reason why you want to be an idol.”  

He quickly scribbled down, his hand aching by how hard he grasped his pencil.  

“Next is the performance section, you’ll be asked to dance, you can do freestyle, choreographed, or a popular routine, that will be your choice, it must be at least thirty seconds, and the maximum is one minute.”  

The sharpened pencil accidentally punctured a hole in the paper as he wrote on his thigh, causing him to let out a small groan as the tip pricked his skin.  

“Then it’ll be singing, you will sing a capella, only one verse with the chorus.  

After that, we’ll do a visual assessment of you, taking pictures in different angles and you in a few poses.  

Finally, we’ll do a small Q&A with a few questions, and you’ll be waiting for your results.  

It may take some time to get your results from a few days to a month.  

Got that?”  

The throbbing hand finally ungripped the small pencil and lifted the hole ridden paper.  

“Uh, yeah, two weeks from now, on Saturday at 10AM, there’ll be a self-introduction, then a dance of my choice of thirty seconds to one minute and an acapella with one verse and chorus, after photos and a Q&A.”  

“Exactly- Oh wait! I forgot to add, you can also add stuff to your audition like acting, so like improv, scripts and stuff, with rapping and self-written verses. You just need to warn them in your introduction.”  

“So, you’ll have about two weeks to prepare, give me your address.”  

“What?”  

“Give me your address.”  

“Why?”  

“I’ll come over and help you! With your audition, practicing, haircut, skincare routine and all the other stuff.”  

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that, also aren’t you busy?”  

“Of course I’m allowed to do that, I can do anything I want! How could I not want to help my first client?”  

A small smile graced his face at those words.  

“... I’m your first client?”  

“Yup! Didn’t I tell you? I’m a new agent at Constellations Ent, if you forgot this too, my name’s Uriel.”  

His eyes glanced at the window, where rain drizzled down the fogged glass. A haggard reflection stared back — hollow-eyed and half-hidden.  

“... Are you sure you’re willing to go that far? I might not even get accepted.”  

“Don’t you dare! Stop doubting yourself! You have unimaginable talent brewing inside of you, waiting to shine! All it needs is a microphone and a stage to glimmer radiantly!” the enthusiastic voice chided as subtle noise simmered in the background.  

“Give me your address so I can note it down.”  

He sighed gently,  

“Alright, I live on...”  

He paused for a moment, staring at the ink-smudged paper, then at the reflection in the glass.  

Not quite ready but no longer running.  

-  

The warm breeze caressed against his thin jacket as the bough bristled with leaves hovered overhead, the obscurity bringing a soothing presence.  

Meaningless chatter filled the background as the sun shone warmly.  

For the first time in his life, Dokja decided to take a walk.  

Yes, a healthy walk. Like the healthy person he is.  

A brisk walk through the park without any worries plaguing him, relieving him of all stress.  

Or so Google claimed.  

But unfortunately, it wasn’t as pleasing as the internet said;  

Because here he is, trembling behind a tree as he observed a ginormous insect crawling near him, with pinchers that could probably pierce through the flesh of his leg (and possibly bone).  

He flinched as it approached towards him, its mighty shell and wings slightly fluttered.  

The insect slowly gazed up at him, its antennas twitched as if it wanted to communicate with him.  

‘I didn’t sign up for this.’  

He gritted his teeth as his grip on the tree trunk tightened.  

‘It said walk in the park, not bug hunting mission.’  

Suddenly, the beetle abruptly stopped, weirdly careened to side and flopped on his back.  

“...”  

‘Is it dead?’  

His eyes swept the ground to find a branch long enough to reach the supposedly deceased insect.  

As the wind blew, underneath a pile of randomly plucked leaves, he spotted a pointy stick that seemed to be about the length of his arm.  

With a steady stance, he leaned forward, arm stretched, one foot barely skimming the ground as he reached further.  

Just as his finger grazed the tip of the branch, the foot he stood on inclined carelessly forward as he felt his body falling headfirst to the ground.  

Before he could react, he faceplanted into the dirt, dignity lost in the crash.  

He slowly raised his head and stared at the point of the stick that was a few inches close from poking him in the eye.  

His outstretched arm grabbed it, and his other one anchored itself on the ground and pushed itself upward before his body flopped on the ground once more as a muffled groan echoed in his ears.  

He forgot he could barely do a push-up, let alone a one-armed one.  

Humiliated, he pulled himself up by using his knees (which he should’ve used the first try) and dusted his clothes.  

With wary steps, he steadily drew near the laying beetle and pointed towards it with the tip of his stick.  

The moment he was about to poke it; the shout of a child sounded behind him,  

“DON’T!”  

He flinched at the words and turned to look behind him.  

There was a young boy, he ran towards him, the snapback hat sat backwards on his head as the brown hair that stuck out in the front bounced with his steps.  

He wore a yellow sweater tattered with a couple of dirt stains and blue denim shorts that reached his knees.  

The child rapidly approached him, aggressively yanked the stick out of his hands and crouched beside the insect to gently settle it into his palm.  

“I wasn’t going to kill it if that what worried you.” Dokja clarified, afraid he incurred the wrath of the boy somehow.  

The child glanced at him from behind and with a scowling expression, he asked,  

“Why didn’t you want to kill him?” the child stood up and lightly caressed the shell of the beetle.  

“Because I thought it was already dead.” he lightly backed up as he saw the pincers of the insect snap at him.  

“Oh.”  

- ...  

- Do you like bugs?  

- No, not really.  

- Then, why didn’t you stab the bug.  

- Why would I stab an already dead beetle?  

- Because you don’t like bugs.  

- Going with your logic that means if I ever attended the funeral of my nemesis, I would open his casket and stab him since he was already dead.  

- ... Yes.  

- No, I wouldn’t do that.  

- Ok.  

- ...  

Dokja’s eyes glanced both ways before announcing,  

“So, I don’t know if you have anything to do with your not stabbed insect, but I have to continue my walk.” he quickly dusted a second time his stained clothes and slowly walked backwards maintaining eye contact with the boy.  

Then swiftly turned around and continued his path with both arms behind him.  

The wind whistled harshly as the clouds glided leisurely in the blue sky.  

While he followed the slightly faded walking trail of the park, he heard soft steps crunching the small pebbles embedded in the dirt behind him.  

He reluctantly turned around and as expected, there stood the young boy.  

“You know when I said I was going to continue my walk, I actually lied. I’m going back home.”  

The child nodded and looked at him with uncaring eyes.  

“...Which isn’t yours.” Dokja added.  

The boy continued to peer at him.  

“I don’t know if you know this, but it’s bad to follow people home. It’s alright when you’re young, except when you get older, you’ll get slapped by girls and get called creep.”  

The eyes still gazed at him.  

“... Where are your parents?”  

“At home.”  

“And they’re not worried about how their son is following a stranger home?”  

He silently shook his head.  

“...”  

“Why are you following me?”  

“Because most people would kill bugs if they don’t like them.” he paused, his face scowling as he continued,  

“Last time I went here with my grasshopper, some lady squashed it with her shoe, then she said she thought it was a leaf. She was clearly lying.”  

“What does that have to do with you following me?”  

- You’re a good person.  

- What makes you say that?  

- You wouldn’t stab your enemy's dead corpse.  

- I don’t think anyone would stab their enemy’s dead corpse.  

- If you were evil, you would just let me follow you home.  

- ... that’s reasonable –– but why are you following me?  

- Because you’re a good person.  

“...”  

“I give up.” he hunched his back as he continued walking, not bothering to fix his posture.  

The child followed with resolute steps.  

“What’s your name?”  

“Lee Gilyoung.”  

“Well Lee Gilyoung, I don’t think you should easily tell strangers your name.”  

“You wouldn’t be a stranger if you told me your name.”  

“... Kim Dokja.”  

The radiant sun gradually settled into the darkening sky, as the once pleasant breeze turned cold. The unlit streetlamps lined the busy street as the steady trees rested peacefully in the grass.  

Small herbs sprouted from the crevices of the cracked sidewalk as it led towards a shabby apartment with creaking doors and barely functioning air conditioners.  

They slowly ascended the endless steps of the stairs, subtle thuds resounded as their soiled shoes landed on the cement.  

Dokja stopped just in front of the door to his apartment, the color of the knob faintly worn off with small scratches at the bottom, and asked,  

“You sure you want to enter? It’s not as luxurious as you think it would be.”  

Gilyoung slightly pondered then nodded with an assured glint in his eyes.  

He sighed, “Alright.” and pulled out the key from his pocket then jammed it into the lock.  

He awkwardly struggled to turn it for a few seconds before the door opened with a successful click.  

The unwelcoming air of the room brushed past him as he smoothly entered.  

With an arm braced against the wall, he leaned to remove his begrimed shoes and carelessly shoved them in a corner.  

He stepped onto the cold floor and calmly approached his kitchen.  

Feeling a missing presence, he glimpsed at the boy, only to see him quietly standing at the entrance.  

“Aren’t you going to enter?”  

The child looked up at him and quickly removed his shoes then settled them neatly beside the hazardous placement of Dokja’s shoes.  

He curiously drew near the kitchen counter and stared at him as he searched precariously in the cabinets not bothering to put stuff back into their place.  

“Have you ever eaten ramen?”  

“Yes.”  

“Did you like it?”  

He meekly nodded.  

“Good because it’s the only thing I have.”  

Dokja took out two ramen cups and placed them on the counter.  

“Have you ever tried this flavor?”  

“No.”  

“Well, it’s the only one I got that isn’t expired, so I hope you enjoy chicken broth.”  

The noise of gushing water replaced the silence as Gilyoung waited at the counter.  

His eyes swept across the room, curious of its contents.  

Noticing his scrutiny, Dokja said, “There are novels in a pile next to my bed, you can read them if you want, just don’t unfold the dog-eared pages.”  

“Are any of them about bugs?”  

“Uh... no not really they’re more action, adventure stuff, but you might find some insect monsters in there.”  

Soft shuffling sounded behind him as he thought the child left.  

He closed the water and turned to place the kettle on the stove but suddenly stumbled as he met the nosey eyes of the boy just in front of him.  

“What the- what are you doing here?”  

“Do you like tree crickets?”  

He settled the kettle on the heating surface and answered, “I don’t have much thought on them.”  

“Did you know that tree crickets don’t always live in trees? Unlike their name, they also live in plants, shrubs, and tall plants.”  

“I did not know that thanks for sharing that useful information.”  

“Did you know that...”  

The night smoothly sailed as the apartment was filled with the scrumptious scent of chicken broth, awkward, one-sided chatter about bugs, and annoying slurps.  

As he laid on his rigid bed, he felt a searing sting on his leg.  

He yanked off the blanket — and there it was, crawling across his leg.  

The insect raised its pincers again.  

Dokja stared.  

 “...Fuck.”  

Chapter 8: Gust of Wind

Notes:

Hello, hello, new day, new chapter!
Enjoy!

The gentle breeze skimmed the pale skin, its chill rising small bumps.  

Tiny, golden grains slipped through his fingers, some caught onto the beige bandage that enveloped his index.  

Mounds of sand slowly sunk as the point of a stick delicately traced curious shapes on the ground.  

“Do you like to draw?” soft grains clung to his knees, descending into the compressed skin.  

The boy next to him shook his head, an obscure mist swayed with his movements as it clouded his face.  

“That’s a shame, I love drawing...” Dokja pouted as he continued to sketch a bizarre form.  

“I also like reading and... singing.” shallow lines stroked and curbed as the branch pursued its path.  

“But I don’t sing often... no one really listens.” his cheerful voice darkened as the tracing stuttered.  

Suddenly, a soft jab in the side poked him, he turned his head to glance at the culprit.  

The wind whistled, strolling through the playground, slightly blurring the sketched lines.  

The befogged face hesitated for a moment, reluctance in his movements before he gestured at his ears then pointed at himself.  

At the realization of the meaning, a blissful smile embraced his face as he shone his signature toothy grin.  

“You’ll listen?”  

The boy nodded, strands of hair flickered in the breeze.  

“Alright!” with a swift stroke, he drew the last line.  

He enthusiastically unclasped the stick; a subtle thud sounded behind him.  

“But first, look at my drawing!” he settled both hands on his hips as he displayed a proud expression.  

The wisp of smoke leaned down to admire the shaky lines, tilting his head slightly confused.  

“Look the sunfish is you and the squid is me!” he pridefully pointed at the squished, faded figures.  

Abruptly, a blustery gust of wind glided over, sifting the sand and obscuring the frowning face of the sunfish.  

“Oh...”  

With a sorrowful gaze, Dokja glimpsed beside him.  

An empty spot vacated the soothing presence.  

No one was there.  

“...”  

He looked back at his drawing;  

The squiggled line of the squid’s mouth gradually turned downwards as the breeze chafed the sand.  

!  

Resounding knocks on the door echoed in the lonesome room.  

Harsh sunlight protruded through the window, directly hitting his eyes.  

Weary lashes blurred his vision as eyelids clung to the adhering skin.  

He still felt the sand clinging to his knees  

His eyes closed once more, sinking into the comfort of the mattress, melding himself with the easing solace.  

With a swift movement, he tugged the warm blanket to cover his head, protecting himself from the dazzling glare and the incessant noise.  

The jarring bangs grew louder as the cheery voice of a peculiar lady resonated,  

“Kim Dokja-nim! Open your door!”  

A faint grunt escaped him as he ripped off his shield.  

He begrudgingly slipped from the comfort of his thin blanket, rolling softly onto the rigid ground.  

He dragged himself across the wooden floor as nails scrapped the planks, clothes clinging to the dirtied floor, offering a free cleaning service to himself.  

After an excruciatingly long moment, he reached the creaking front door and reluctantly pulled himself up.  

The unceasing knocking still persisted, he groggily spat,  

“Alright...I’m up, I’m up!”  

The noise finally settled as he slowly twisted the round knob.  

A flash of platinum hair dashed in front of him with a cool breeze as an enthusiastic embrace enveloped him.  

Gentle arms quickly released him and grasped his shoulders to hold him down.  

Glimmering, emerald green eyes swept across him, eyeing his messily tussled hair with strayed strands sprouting upwards.  

Then paused at the conspicuous eyebags, they seemed like war paint left behind by sleepless nights.  

And finally stopped at the reddened, cracked lips that haven’t been hydrated for days and the thin, svelte frame that proudly displayed his bones.  

She tiredly muttered, a frown gracing her usually enlightened expression,  

“We have a lot of work to do...”  

“What?”  

“Nothing!” she cheerfully replied, making her way into his room while dragging him by the collar.  

The lint of his socks screeched against the smooth floor as he heard a small snap of a string from his stretched shirt.  

Before he could complain, Uriel spoke instead,  

“Your room is... homey... I guess?” she glanced at the leaning tower of piled books that crowded a corner then turned towards the sea of trashed assignments that covered floor.  

“Not a lot of hobbies I see...” the shiny lady approached the kitchen counter, lowering her sunglasses to curiously inspect the emptied ramen cups that stood there untouched.  

“Not very clean too...” she mumbled, slowly backing away from the filth.  

“Ok, I think I got it, thank you for your useful commentary.” he interjected, stopping her ceaseless remarks before she could add more.  

The click of the wooden chopsticks sounded behind him as he tossed the day-old ramen cups in the sink.  

She glimpsed at the scuffled blanket and pillow then twirled to face him,  

“What do you got for the moment?”  

“Got what?”  

“For your audition! What else?” she clarified, settling her purse on his nightstand.  

“Uh...” he awkwardly scratched his head, looked at his feet and murmured, “Nothing...”  

“...”  

A hush settled between them.  

“We’ll figure that out later then.” She removed her glasses and continued,  

“We still got two weeks left anyways! What’s more important is that makeover.” she exclaimed as she excitedly pulled out her tote bag and stuffed her hand into it.  

Black nails clacked against the plastic before she took out a perplexing object.  

“Wear this.”  

A pink, fluffy headband landed on his face, delicate hearts decorated the edges.  

And two soft pompoms hung on the front.  

“This?” he pinched it and dangled it in front of him.  

“Yup!” she stared at him with radiant eyes, inciting him to wear the pretty headband.  

“... You sure?”  

“Yes.” she nodded vigorously.  

His eyes glanced at the white fluff, and he questioned again,  

“... Very sure?”  

“Yes.”  

“... Extremely-”  

“You will wear it.” her tone darkened.  

“...”  

Unwillingly bearing the menacing gaze, he reluctantly stretched the fluffy monstrosity on his head, feeling the comforting bristles glide across his skin.  

Two pompoms weighed heavily on his forehead.  

“Pfft-”  

He whipped his head towards her as a muffled laughter sounded behind him, the orbs of fluff bounced with the swift movement.  

The chuckling grew louder as a scowl branded his face.  

She gave a charming smile and removed her bag from her shoulder as she drew near the edge of the bed.  

A cacophonous racket echoed in the room while she dumped all her glittering cosmetics onto his stiff bed.  

An awful amount of shimmer blinded him as they scintillated in the sunlight.  

‘I should’ve never accepted this.’  

-  

Kim Dokja never thought he would be here, laying on the mat of his bathroom floor with sliced cucumbers covering his eyes.  

Uriel claimed it would reduce the puffiness of his eyes and the blackened circles that haunted his face, which he doubts.  

In addition to that, a suspicious, pink twinkling paste was slathered on his face.  

She said it would hydrate his skin and tighten his pores, even though it looks like he dumped his face in a princess-themed birthday cake.  

What’s worst is that he’s getting waxed.  

By a sparkly woman that barged into his-  

“Fff-” a muffled curse slipped out of his mouth as a cloth blocked out the scandalous words.  

A blistering pain inflamed on the skin of his leg as a quiet burn melted.  

His hands clutched the gruff mat as the cucumbers absorbed his painful tears.  

“Nuh-uh no swearing –– we really need to fix your vocabulary.” Uriel chided clicking her tongue as she tossed the used paper into the trash.  

“Alright that was the last one.” she said while a basin of water slid across the smooth tiles towards his feet.  

She ripped off the top of an unknown bag, a calming lavender scent filled the room as it invaded his nostrils.  

With a wooden spoon, she scooped up a measured portion of powder and dumped it into the water.  

Microscopic grains slowly merged with the liquid, transforming it into a hue of purple.  

“Put your feet in there.”  

“In where? I can’t see with these cucumbers in my eyes.”  

Two hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him towards an uncertain direction.  

Suddenly, lukewarm water caressed his feet, soft waves rippling as his toes entered.  

He was soon immersed into a soothing sensation as he felt his skin loosening with the water tickling every crevice.  

“How do you feel? Relaxed right?”  

He hummed in response settling more into the welcoming water as his toes writhed.  

The soft splashes blended with the comfortable silence –– until it was broken.  

“Have you decided yet?”  

“Decided what?”  

“On your song choice!”  

He pondered for a second, racking his brain to name a random song, but none came.  

“... I haven’t really thought about that.”  

“...”  

She sighed as she sat on the stubby stool, her black skirt draping over its edges and asked,  

“What’s your favorite song then?”  

He looked back, trying to find a song but his search was fruitless.  

“Don’t have one.”  

- ...  

- What’s the first song that pops into your head when you think of idols?  

- ...Desire?  

- That’s an album.  

- ...”  

A defeated groan escaped Uriel as she slightly rocked on the chair, its legs knocking against the cold flooring.  

Feeling her disappointment, he hesitated for a moment before saying,  

“... Actually, I’ve been writing a song recently-”  

A dramatic gasp echoed next to him as she interrupted,  

“Really!?”  

“Well, it’s not finished yet-”  

“I want to hear it!” her hands gripped the edge of the container as she leaned towards him.  

“It’s in my notebook, it might not be as good as you expect it. It’s still in prog-”  

“Oh, stop with your pessimistic dwelling!” She lightly slapped his arm, eliciting a yelp from him.  

 “It’s already amazing that you’re writing lyrics! Most idols, especially debuting ones, hire songwriters and producers. Therefore, you are already self-sufficient and got a grip in the industry!”    

“So, stop being self-deprecating and believe in yourself!”  

“...” he fiddled with his shirt, smoothing the wrinkled fabric and ultimately said with a small smile,  

“Alright...”  

-  

Surprisingly, Uriel was right.  

He felt lighter, like a burdensome Halloween skin mask glued to his face has finally slipped off.  

In the soft glow of the bathroom lights, a pale face was reflected in the mirror.  

A slender finger slowly traced his sunken cheeks that slimmed down his face, admiring the whitened skin that shimmered under the dull gleam.  

He peered up.  

Lush, dark lashes clung together, delicately fluttering at each blink, covering the dreary, grey eyes that stared.  

The shadows that hung under them were slightly faded, at least no longer the deep hollows of obscurity that etched on his face.  

‘I seem...healthier.’  

A radiant face appeared next to him then asked with a gleeful smile,  

“So? What do you think? Beautiful, right?”  

“Well, I look better than before.” he admitted, taking one last glance at his reflection before heading out of the bathroom.  

“Oh c’mon! Say it! You look beautiful!” Uriel followed behind him, insisting on his beauty.  

“I think you’re exaggerating a bit.” he replied before plopping down onto his rigid bed, uncaring for the tossed items.  

She scoffed at his response then scanned the room, glimpsing at every corner, searching for a specific object.  

“Where’s your notebook?”  

“Oh... you’re still curious about that?” he sat back up, glancing at her crouched figure perilously opening the kitchen cabinets.  

“Of course I am!” she chirped pacing everywhere in the room, eventually knocking down his pile of prized books during her disastrous search.  

The soft thuds resonated in the room as flitting pages flew everywhere.  

“Ok, ok stop searching, you won’t find it there.” Dokja quickly got up to prevent her from wrecking his room and hastily lifted his mattress.  

With a rapid movement, he whipped out the precious notebook from its crevice  

Hesitant, he started browsing through the endless pages, huddled against his nightstand.  

He finally landed on the long-awaited page, he unfolded the creased corner as his eyes swept across the inked words.  

Suddenly, curious eyes peeked over his shoulder from behind as gilded hands gripped his shoulders.  

“Are you going to sing it?” a cheery voice chimed, interrupting his reading.  

“Oh... uh-you want me to sing?”  

“What? Are you just going to read it?” Uriel raised an eyebrow with a perplexed expression.  

“Well, I could just read it you’re too uncomfortable to sing.” she continued about to grab the notebook.  

“No, no, I’ll sing.” he rapidly snatched it back before it could reach her fingers.  

The shiny lady patted him excitedly and settled down on the stiff bed.  

Glimmering eyes intently gazed at him.  

He stood under her heavy stare, his notebook in hand.  

A harsh pounding gradually echoed in his ears as a low-pitched buzz clouded his mind.  

A subtle heat slowly crept up his back, tickling his neck while his hand trembled on the hard cover.  

An imperceptible swallow sounded.  

“Start when you’re ready.” a calming voice shot out, slightly deterring the noise.  

Coming back to his senses, he took a deep breath, felt the air disperse with a cold breeze and started,  

“Are you hearing me?  

Do you repeat?  

Hey! Hey! Hey!  

Blinding stars hold your eyes  

As you know they all despise-  

Melting scars are in disguise  

As you know the all despise-  

Hey! Hey! Hey!  

Ears, tongue, mouth cold, sippin’ on the mutters foretold  

Words, taste, sounds bold, slippin’ on the cries untold  

 

Reverse spews anchor the lies  

You took’em, chewed’em but I ain’t holding your untruths  

I ain’t holding your untruths  

I ain’t holding your untruths  

 

And I’m gonna hold the spilling folds of the pruned hands  

Waitin’ till they fabricate in their phonebooths  

And I’m gonna tell sold to the buyers that demands  

Waitin’ till they fabricate in their phonebooths  

Hey! Hey! Hey!”  

He sighed as he finally stopped.  

His heart battered in its cage as he closed the notebook shut, his trembling hand tucked the stray strand that caressed his cheek.  

Nervous eyes peered up in front of him as he gave a polite smile.  

Mouth agape, soundless, Uriel stared at him with radiant eyes, a proud glint gleamed in them.  

Abruptly, she leapt off the rigid bed with a gust of wind and jumped enthusiastically on him, squealing agitatedly.  

Arms encircled him and squeezed all breath out of him.  

She then whispered softly in his ear,  

“You were the best decision I’ve ever made.”  

 

Notes:

Sorry if the song isn't to your liking
I'm not a professional at writing lyrics.
Anyways thank you for reading! <3

Chapter 9: Miserable State

Notes:

Sorry I was supposed to post this earlier but my internet was randomly cut off. 😓
Anyways, enjoy!

Small droplets of rain plummeted from the overcast skies, shattering their graceful form as they splattered on the sidewalk, staining the grey pavement.  

Water-tattered umbrellas flourished as people abandoned the once bustling streets to seek shelter in the warmth of their homes.  

Unfortunately, Kim Dokja wasn’t one of the lucky people that came prepared.  

He trudged sulkily on the dampened stone, his drenched clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin, growing heavier with each step.  

The frigid chill of the weather did not help with the viscid discomfort.  

The rain only intensified as silver rods plunged down, his pace quickened as he approached the glass-walled bus stop.  

The downpour eventually stopped as he stepped under the refuge of the awning, but it did not shield him from the numbing breeze.  

With a soft sigh of relief, he settled on the bench, only for the cold of the metal to send shivers down his trembling back.  

‘I’m going to be sick tomorrow.’  

A scratchy soreness already lingered in his throat.  

The verdant leaves of the trees wavered as the heavy droplets unrelentingly persisted, wilting down as the burdensome weight pressed.  

Suddenly, he felt a stare behind his head; he glanced beside him and spotted a familiar presence.  

“Yoo Joonghyuk?”  

Not a single drop of water was present on him, short, black locks slightly curled as they cascaded down the sides of his deadpan face.  

A black bomber jacket covered his toned body, underneath was a black close-fitting shirt with a white label planted on the side.  

He was surrounded by several fancy, translucent grocery bags, each one filled to the brim with luxurious food.  

And disgusting, sickening tomatoes.  

Joonghyuk grunted in greeting, he eyed his soaked clothes, and said,  

“You don’t have an umbrella.”  

“Yes, thank you for noticing my miserable state.” he thanked mockingly with a light-hearted smile.  

The black-clothed boy nodded and turned his gaze back towards the sidewalk.  

Silence alighted as the quiet pitter-patter of the rain sounded.  

Until a low voice rang out,  

“Is your home far away?”  

Dokja glimpsed at him confused then responded, “Uh-no, not really that far. Just a few minutes away from my next bus stop.” he paused and asked,  

“Why do you ask?”  

Joonghyuk pursed his lips into a thin line, hesitating whether to reply or not.  

Then, without answering, he threw another question:  

“Do you have something to eat at home?”  

Dokja was befuddled by his weird questions, but still responded, “Well, if you count expired ramen cups as food then sure, I do.”  

A frown was painted onto his face at that answer, Joonghyuk took out his sleek phone and glanced at the slow-paced time.  

His eyes lit up for a second as he looked at him.  

His stare flickered across the numerous bags at his side before reluctantly questioning him,  

“Would you like to eat at my house?”  

Dokja widened his eyes at the unexpected query.  

Soft laughter escaped him as he arched his eyebrows, “What? Are you trying to get me into more debt? I haven’t repaid you for last time.”  

The frowning boy glared at him and bluntly replied, “No.”  

An awkwardness slightly stretched at the direct answer, Dokja spoke instead,  

“Why are you inviting me anyways, we barely know each other?”  

“...”  

Joonghyuk’s expression darkened at those words, dull eyes slightly trembled before he responded,  

“Do you want to or not?” with a scowl.  

“Alright, alright, calm down, I’ll accept... it’s free right?” he gave a cheeky grin.  

Then chuckled at the glowering face as the frown grew deeper.  

-  

A warm, comforting breeze embraced him as Dokja stepped into the apartment, alleviating him from the bitter cold of his drenched clothes.  

The rain still lashed down from the crystalline window; water drizzled down the befogged glass.  

He gently removed his shoes and neatly placed them in a humble corner, their begrimed state sharply contrasting with the modern look of the shelves.  

Numerous, translucent, black-lined bags crowded the wooden floor, slightly blocking his path.  

“Do you need help in carrying these?”  

“No.” Joonghyuk replied, picking up the last of the bags and went his way towards the kitchen.  

“Ok...” he hesitantly stepped out of the entrance area and followed him, small droplets dripped from his clothes with his steps, leaving a glistening trail of water.  

He steadily approached the counter and stared at the broad back at the fridge, stocking it with various foods.  

A pool of water puddled beneath him as he awkwardly waited, his fingers rhythmically tapping against the smooth surface of the marble counter.  

Unexpectedly, an impudent voice sounded behind him,   

“Oppa, what is this ugly ahjussi doing here again.”  

He swiftly twirled around to face the child with an injured expression.   

Behind him were two black pigtails and a small, scowling face, in her arms was a giant, white fluff ball with stubby limbs and a gilded horn.  

“You’re drenching the floor.” she pointed at the shallow puddle that stilled under him.  

Seemingly oblivious of the mess that followed him, he lifted his foot as to not soak his sock and glanced behind him to sheepishly ask,  

“Is there a towel I can use to clean this?”  

A low, resonant voice rang out from the cabinets in response,  

“Mia, go get a towel.”  

“Why should I? He clearly made the mess.” she stubbornly refused, the ball of fluff bouncing as she crossed her arms across her chest as a resolute stance of resistance.  

“Now.”  

“No.” Yoo Mia declined his stern tone, deciding to continue her obstinate refusal.  

“I’m cutting off your TV time tonight.”   

“What!? You can’t do that!” she let out an outraged protest, clutching the giant plushy harder, then cried out,   

“Dokkaebi King is broadcasting tonight! I can’t miss today’s episode; I’ll get spoiled tomorrow at school!”  

Joonghyuk slowly stood up and pulled out a paper bulk bag of flour, settling it on the counter and glanced the whining child.  

“Go get a towel.” he indifferently replied to his sister’s cries.  

Feeling greatly wronged, she muttered resentfully, “Stupid ahjussi, cruel Oppa.” under her breath as she begrudgingly trudged towards the bathroom.  

As she passed Kim Dokja, she tossed him an annoyed glare with a twisted grimace that branded her face.  

And with an irked scoff, her small figure disappeared into the vast hallway.  

Dokja smugly smirked at her despair and turned back to look at the counter.  

The marble counter was surprisingly crowded — plain packages surrounded by elegant, intricate cooking tools laid there.  

Abruptly, Joonghyuk appeared from below wearing a black, silver-buckled apron that tied around his slim waist complimenting his fit figure while he started meticulously measuring the ingredients.  

He shamelessly ogled at the handsome sight before remembering something,  

“Oh right, we never exchanged contacts, did we?”  

The boy behind the counter lightly stared at him for a few seconds.  

He reached into the front pocket of his apron and pulled out his phone, then slid it across the counter towards to him.  

“Also, your clothes are still at my apartment... but I haven’t washed them though.” he hesitatingly said while inserting his number into his contacts.  

Joonghyuk faintly glimpsed at him before grunting in response.  

A few blinks later, Dokja waited for a more elaborate answer, but it never came.  

“You don’t care about them?”  

The black-clothed boy looked up at him and flat out said,  

“You can keep them.”  

“What?”  

He continued to organize his stuff without glancing at him,  

“You can keep them.”  

“Are you sure? I can give them to you tomorrow.” he furrowed his brows at his resolute answer, wondering if Joonghyuk was displeased by him.  

“Keep them.” he sternly insisted.  

“Alright, alright, if you insist.” Dokja relented and turned his gaze towards the small library that stood behind him.  

“Do you read often?”  

“No.”  

“Then why do you have a whole mini library?” he complained pointing while mesmerized at the grand collection of books.  

“For Mia.”  

“She reads?”  

“No.”  

“...”  

Suddenly, an aggrieved voice appeared beside him,  

“What about me.”  

Dokja quickly swiveled around until a mop was violently shoved into his arms as a bucket slid next to his feet.  

Water wavered at the aggressive movement and slightly splashed the floor.  

Small footsteps stomped on the wooden floor as the culprit ran away, only leaving evidence of the crime.  

“...” he turned back to glance at Joonghyuk only to see him peacefully whisking white powders in a metal bowl.  

He regretfully sighed at the lack of witnesses to his unjust suffering and started sluggishly mopping the wet floor, the puddle smudging all over the wooden planks.  

After half an hour of cleaning as his clothes dripped on the floor, having to wipe them again, he finally finished mopping the ground.  

He leaned back cracking his back after the achingly long time he hunched his shoulders, feeling his bones pop and his body lighten.  

Suddenly, he caught the faint smell of chicken broth from behind him, he rapidly turned around and spotted Joonghyuk quietly kneading dough and stuffing some filling.  

Dokja’s eyes sparkled as he noticed the familiar ingredients and asked,  

“What are you cooking?”  

Joonghyuk eyed his still soaked clothes and responded,  

“Murim dumplings with chicken broth.”  

“Oh! That’s my favorite food.” he leaned on the counter, settling his chin between his hands with a small smile.  

Enjoying the mouth-drooling odor that lingered in the kitchen, he glanced at the living room and frowned as he saw the rain still pouring through the window.  

His gaze drifted to the dusty piano, where scattered music scores and toppled books cluttered the floor.  

“You play the piano?”  

“Used to.”  

“Why’d you stop?”  

The black-clothed boy momentarily glimpsed at him, his movements stuttered then said,  

“...lost someone.”  

Dokja paused, regretting his question and mumbled,  

“Sorry, shouldn’t’ve asked that.”  

Black eyes peered up at him, noticing his sorrowful expression, he stopped his kneading.  

The slow gush of water resounded as he washed his hands, the faint white powder slowly disappearing.  

He then wiped them with a clean towel and paused. Without explanation, he turned. “Follow me.”  

Joonghyuk gestured behind him and walked out of the kitchen, heading towards the living room.  

Confused, but not wanting to offend him, Dokja followed his steps wondering where he was leading them.  

Joonghyuk briskly passed through the living room, giving a sparing glance at the drizzling droplets and headed upstairs, lightly ascending the steps.  

As he stepped upstairs, he noticed various scribbled drawings that stained the light-grey walls, wandering in every corner.  

Several sparkly stickers were scattered on the furnishing near the stairs, some peeling off while others strongly adhering, adding a bit of glamor to the bleak style of the apartment.  

He passed through the hallway, black doors decorated the lonely walls while fluorescent lights illuminated the path, revealing the hidden, abstract designs on the dark carpets.  

Muffled sounds of upbeat music sounded from a closed door, paper flowers and butterflies embellished the surface as subtle splashes of glitter freckled the corners, at the center it was written “Yoo Mia” in a squiggly handwriting.  

Suddenly, a cold hand reached out and tugged him by the wrist to pull him in a dark room.  

Bright lights momentarily blinded him as he took in his surroundings.  

In front of him was a perfectly made bed with black sheets and pillows as a mahogany frame supported it.  

The same light-grey walls encircled him, the one behind the bed was covered in drawings, papers overlapping one with another, vibrant colors giving life to the dreary room.  

A simple desk was stationed in a corner of the room, scrupulously organized folders huddled in the shelves accompanied by piles of books that towered on the table.  

On the nightstand was a small stack of children books, at the top laid a white book with the image of a sunfish and a squid hugging each other with multiple silver wrappers peeking out of the pages.  

He gently traced the vivid frown of the sunfish.  

‘Seems... familiar’  

Unexpectedly, a slender finger poked his shoulder.  

He lightly jumped at the startling touch and swiftly turned around only to see Joonghyuk.  

In his arms were neatly folded, black clothing, that looked to barely fit him.  

Dark eyes lingered on the book as if reminiscing about something, then glanced at him and questioned,  

“Do you like that book?”  

“No... it’s just that I feel like I’ve seen it before.” he responded eyeing the clothes in his hold and asked,  

“Who are those clothes for?”  

“For you.” he said, handing them out to him.  

“What?”  

“Your clothes are wet.” Joonghyuk remarked, eyeing his drenched clothes.  

“Yes, I know, but I already borrowed clothes from you, I can’t take more.” he gently pushed away the offering hand.  

“You’ll get sick.” the blunt boy frowned.  

“I’m pretty sure I’m already sick, so it wouldn’t matter if I get sicker.”  

Joonghyuk paused for a second pursing his lips while slightly gripping the clothes before saying,  

“You’ll wet all the furniture.”  

“...”  

With a reluctant sigh, Dokja grabbed the folded clothing and asked,  

“Do I change here?”  

“You can take a shower there.” he pointed towards a silver-lined black door.  

“Uh... no thanks, I think I’ll just change my clothes.”  

Joonghyuk lightly nodded and left the room.  

Dokja peeked from the corner of the wall to make sure he was out of the room before muttering, “Weird guy.”  

-  

Dokja awkwardly stepped out of the room, adjusting his clothes as to not look odd on him due to them being twice his size.  

He suddenly stopped as he saw a familiar figure in the hallway.  

As if sensing his presence, the silhouette twirled around to face him and scanned his body with scrutinizing eyes.  

“Did you take a shower?”  

“No, I just changed my clothes.” he responded, slowly approaching her.  

“No wonder you still stink.” she pinched her nose and lightly turned around.  

“...”  

He stood there a few seconds, processing what she just told him.  

Just as he was about to say something back, she already disappeared.  

He let out a tired exhale and descended the stairs.  

-  

Porcelain plates crowded the circular table, each one of them carrying an exquisitely flavorsome dish that seemed to be brought straight out of a 3-star Michelin restaurant, prepared by the head chef.  

There were only three black bowls on the table that contained the same food.  

Golden dumplings filled to the brim with delicious meat and chopped up vegetables sailed peacefully on a gilded liquid, sprinkled with sliced, thin green onions.  

A wispy vapor hovered above the simmering dish.  

Dokja quietly drew near the table, nearly drooling as he pulled out the cushioned chair from the table.  

A strident screech sounded as the legs of the chair dragged against the wooden floor.  

He sheepishly looked up and saw Mia glaring at him.  

With a light cough, he plopped down on the seat hoping he didn’t somehow scratch the floor.  

“That’s Oppa’s place.”  

“What?” he glanced at Mia.  

“He usually sits there.”  

“Oh, sorry.” he was about to get up before his shoulder was pressed down by a cold hand.  

He whipped his head behind him and stared at Joonghyuk, confused.  

“You can sit there.” he said as he settled the last plate on the table and took a seat parallel to him.  

“Alright.” he mumbled, unsure what to do next.  

“Oppa, why is this ahjussi here.” Yoo Mia said scornfully as she started scooping up a dumpling.  

Yoo Joonghyuk lightly glimpsed at her and didn’t respond, instead he picked out vegetables from another plate and ignored her stare.  

She scoffed at his silence and mumbled, “Since when did we started sheltering homeless people.”  

“I’m not homeless?” offended, Dokja denied her statement.  

“Why would you need to borrow Oppa’s clothes each time you visit then.”  

“That’s because your Oppa keeps giving me his clothes.”  

“You didn’t give him back his clothes from last time.”  

“I couldn’t meet up with him at that time.”  

“If you’re not homeless then why are you always dirty.”  

“I’m not dirty, you’re just used to the awful smell of a rainbow chemical explosion you always carry.”  

She loudly gasped as she sat up, slammed her hands on the table and rebuked while pointing an accusatory finger at him,  

“How dare you insult my limited edition Biyoo bath balm! I’ll have you know it’s worth more than you, even if you sold your body, it wouldn’t compare.”  

Dokja almost choked at those words, spewing a few drops of broth on the table that glistened under the light.  

Joonghyuk lightly coughed and with a stern voice intervened,  

“Mia.”  

An angry glare was shot at Kim Dokja as she finally sat down on her chair and aggressively chewed her food while staring at him.  

A stiff silence slowly shifted in the room as the sound of cutlery and quiet swallows sounded in the night.  

“Not even Oppa would buy you.”  

“Mia.”  

-  

The clear clacks of plates resonated in the kitchen as Dokja carried the last pile of dishes, placing them on the marble counter with a soft thud which was muffled by the sound of running water.  

The gruff sponge rubbed against the smooth surface of the porcelain plates, meticulously scratching the residue that clung to them.  

He leaned on the counter beside Joonghyuk and peacefully admired his sharp features, from the chiseled jaw to the straight nose ridge to the defined cheekbones, one could not deny that his face was breathtaking.  

After a few minutes of silent scraping, Joonghyuk finally settled the last plate to dry on the dish rack and glanced next to him.  

On his side, slumping carelessly on the counter was a pale boy half-asleep staring at him with a soft smile.  

Thin, black hair caressed his hollowed cheeks as dark, lush lashes gently wavered.  

His white skin scintillated as the fluorescent lights cast a dim radiance on him, illuminating the charming grin that embraced his face.       

Noticing his gaze, Dokja gently stood up from the counter, readjusting his posture and said,  

“Thank you.”  

 

Chapter 10: The Audition

Summary:

The audition is finally here!!! 🎉🎉🎉

After two weeks of nagging phone calls from Uriel and countless mind-numbing, body-aching practices in his empty apartment — where only the peeping birds bore witness, the day of the audition has finally come.  

So here he is, in front of his bathroom mirror, obsessively rearranging the bangs of his newly trimmed hair that Uriel had insisted on.  

Which, he thinks makes no difference at all.  

All while applying some concealer she as well suggested to cover his dark circles and visible scars –– that one was reasonable.  

She also ruthlessly dragged him out of his bed last week to buy new clothes and shoes at this grand luxury mall that had just opened. They even offered fancy champagne glasses and everything.  

Then adamantly insisted he wore the outfit she chose to the audition with nothing else.  

Well, he can’t really complain on that one because the clothes did suit him very well.  

It was a white, wide-sleeve t-shirt with dark blue, loose-fitting sweatpants and a silver chain that hung daintily from his neck.  

Topped with a black waist-cinching jacket which Uriel specifically picked and said, “To emphasize his natural gift.” whatever that means.  

The audition would start at 10AM but it would probably be better to head there earlier in case of him getting lost and wandering in endless halls for like an hour.  

Hopefully not.  

Right...?  

-  

Kim Dokja is lost.  

He isn’t even in the building, and he’s already lost.  

In a city like Seoul — a haven of sky-touching buildings — finding one specific tower is harder than it sounds.  

He’s been here for about thirty minutes wandering the bustling streets like an oblivious tourist gripping his phone with the useless GPS map that was supposed to help –– spoiler alert ––it didn’t.  

What is he supposed to do now.  

“...”  

He rapidly pulled out his phone from his pocket and quickly typed out something.  

According to Google, the best course of action is…  

To ask for directions.  

Simple, right?  

Most people would think it would be an easy task since he’s literally in a sea of people.  

But no.  

They must follow a strict set of requirements to achieve his approval.  

Also to not idiotically put himself in danger or public humiliation.  

First, they should not look shady.  

Thus, anyone wearing a mask, a black hood or a suspicious bag with an incredibly creepy smile is out.  

Second, they should not look lost themselves.  

Therefore, all foreigners, children and aged people are scratched off the list.  

Third, they should look nice enough to not talk behind his back or gossip about him after with whatever ridiculous insults they have.  

So, all aunties and bratty teenagers are not worthy of his questions.  

And fourth, they should not look scary enough that they would cut off his tongue the moment he speaks.  

Hence, people with black sunglasses that look like to be elite CEOs, or a clean, professional look should not be interacted with.  

In consequence, he has been struggling for five minutes finding the perfect person to ask directions.  

Racing from one corner to another, hiding behind bushes and newspapers, watching every hopeful movement, no one could fit his exact list of demands.  

He’s starting to lose hope.  

The beginning of the audition is nearing and he’s still not in the building.  

Is someone cursing him?  

Until, as if the heavens have decided to grace him on this perilous day, he spotted someone.  

It was a girl about his age; she had soft, light brown hair tied in a low ponytail, reaching just below her shoulders, that swayed with her steps.  

Long bangs covered her eyebrows while underneath were sharp, dark brown eyes and a warm smile that illuminated her beautiful face.  

A light blue, loose V-neck t-shirt covered her slim figure with a pastel orange jacket tied around her waist and white sweatpants, on her shoulder hung a small black bag.  

Finally.  

“Excuse me.” he delicately tapped on her shoulder.  

She turned around, her hair following her twirling movement.  

“Hello.” she greeted with a calm smile.  

“Hi...uh-I was wondering if you could help me locate the office building of Constellations Ent.? If you can see, I’m a bit lost here.” he stuttered as he asked under her gaze.  

“Of course! I’m heading over there too, so it wouldn’t cause any problems.” her eyes lit up as she paused. “Are you going to the private audition?”  

“Yeah.” he lightly responded, surprised she knew about the audition.  

“What a coincidence, I’m going too- Wait...”  

The girl stared at him for a few seconds, studying his face, then asked,  

“You seem familiar, have we met before?”, faintly tilting her head.  

Dokja scratched his neck as he scrutinized her,  

“I don’t think so, but I think I saw you before somewhere.” he racked his brains, searching for a name,  

“Oh-! Your name is Yoo Sangah, right?”  

“Yup! It’s a pleasure to meet you...” she lightly nodded and gave a sheepish look.  

“Uh-do you mind giving me your name? I can’t quite recall yours, sorry.”  

“My name’s Kim Dokja, I don’t think we’ve formally met so it’s alright.” he pulled out his hand, offering a friendly handshake.  

“Nice to meet you.”  

“Sooyoung-ah has mentioned you a few times.” she gently shook his hand.  

“Nice to meet you too.”  

“She did?” he furrowed his eyebrows.  

She tucked her hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze as she hesitantly replied,  

“Something about how you don’t have taste and that you’re an idiot.” she mumbled the last part.  

“What?”  

Yoo Sangah politely smiled and said,  

“Let’s go, the audition is starting soon.”  

-  

As they entered the room, he spotted four people already sat on metal foldable chairs that lined up against the wall.  

The tiled floor gleamed with a dull sheen under the vivid lights of the room.  

There were three girls and one boy, two of them looked to be in high school, the other two seemed to be in university.  

Some were glancing at their phones while others nervously bounced their feet against the smooth floor or fidgeted with their jewelry.  

In a discreet corner was placed a small table with a barely used, sleek water dispenser accompanied with a couple of paper cups.  

Next to it was a sole mirror, lined with a diamond shape motif on the sides.  

The room was scarcely decorated, only the scattered potted plants gave some life to the bleak room –– well not really –– it just made it look like an office.  

Unexpectedly, a flat voice rang out,  

“Are you Kim Dokja?”  

Startled he quickly responded,  

“Uh-yes that’s me.”  

The staff member lightly glimpsed at him, checked something off on his clipboard and said,  

“You can sit over there, please silence your phone and wait until we call out your name.” he said as he pointed towards to quiet sitting area.  

Dokja nodded and headed towards the first empty chair he spotted, avoiding the gaze of the other people as to not initiate awkward eye contact or a bland conversation.  

He plopped onto the stiff chair with a subtle creek and watched as Yoo Sangah got checked in.  

It was pretty quiet.  

She calmly walked towards, sat on the seat next to him and said,  

“It’s quite quiet in here, wasn’t the atmosphere I was expecting.”  

“I mean it is a private audition, so the stiff vibe was kind of implied.” he shrugged and pulled out his phone to revise his introduction one last time, unconsciously biting his lip.  

-  

“Kim Dokja, please come in.” the flat voice said, directing him towards the closed, black door on the other side of the room.  

At those words, Dokja reluctantly got up and walked towards the indicated room, nervously gripping the strap of his bag.  

Everything passed slowly from the click of the door handle to the slight screech as the bottom scratched against the floor to the squeak of the ungreased hinges, his steps felt heavy.  

As he entered the silent room, he spotted three people.  

They sat behind a folding table, pens in hand with the faint smell of coffee as one of them adjusted a phone camera on a tripod.  

He swept his eyes across them and recognized the one on the far right.  

Despite his small stature, he emitted a daunting presence that could not be ignored.  

Lustrous, azure hair cascaded down his shoulders as it was tied up with a thin red ribbon.  

A dull expression painted his delicate features as his pale lashes fluttered.  

He sat with an upright posture, arms crossed, exuding absolute refinement and elegance as he observed Dokja’s every action.  

Kyrgios Rodgraim.  

He was a renowned idol Dokja had seen a few times on television with domestic and global success before he retired and became a revered vocal trainer.  

Till this day, he’s still quite famous.  

Next to him was a lady with an unsmiling expression who tapped rhythmically on her notebook with her pen as she stared at the camera being adjusted by her assumed assistant.  

She had black, neatly combed hair gathered in a bun, her posture was slightly laid back with a sluggish but calm air.  

The person fixing the camera seemed younger than the two others, he had a youthful, refreshing look with light brown hair and strands lightly scuffled, sharply contrasting with the cold vibe of the other two.  

He finally sat down and glanced Dokja with a neutral expression as small freckles dotted across his face.  

He anxiously settled his bag on the floor near the wall as the staff gestured him to and walked up to face the evaluators.  

A clear voice resonated in the room,  

“Please, introduce yourself.”  

Dokja tensed at the words, a faint haze of heat pricked at his skin for a second before he started,  

“My name is Kim Dokja, I’m 17 years old from Seoul. I often spend my time reading, but I also sometimes write my own stories and songs.   

As for my strong points, they vary between singing and song writing, though it was self-taught since I have never been trained.”  

Subtle sounds of pens scratching against paper sounded in the room as the evaluators scribbled down their notes all while keeping focus on him.  

He paused, feeling the pounding heartbeat course through his body, repeatedly echoing.  

“I want to be an idol because I wish to tell stories through my lyrics that will help and inspire people around the world.” his voice slightly trembled at the end.  

The rapid beats persisted.  

His eyes peered up as he saw them solemnly noting while silence pervaded the room.  

The sleeve of his jacket disturbingly grazed his skin at each movement provoking an itch that pulsed, urging him to scratch.  

Suddenly, the lady in the center spoke,  

“Please commence.”  

His head sweltered with a low-pitch buzz that sunk into his skin, radiating within him, twirling with the prickling heat.  

The pounding quickened as his vision momentarily blurred.  

Eyes stared intently at him, burdensome gazes burning into his subtle movements while a discomfort oscillated in his stomach.  

His hand lightly clenched, nails raking the skin of his palm.  

With a shallow sigh, he started,  

“My cruel darling’s poisonous tongue ignites my skin  

Love drops sinks into the soft flesh  

My dear loves me drenched in gin  

What a sad, sad, bloodthirsty thing  

 

But he throws petals in my bath and makes me laugh  

Darling here’s my autograph  

 

Liquid sins soaked in the veil  

I still pierce through the lies with my bouquet of flowers  

He says he wants to “devour”  

My dear hold my jewels  

And don’t climb the tower”  

And with that,  

An exhale of relief escaped him as he faintly gripped the hem of his shirt, soothing the creases and caressing the faint lines.  

He waited for the next part.  

The song “My Darling” was written and performed by Aphrodite for her debut album “Desire”, it was highly popular at its release and broke several records, immediately rising her to fame.  

It was recognized not only for its rather difficult vocals but was also acclaimed for its poetic lyricism, where many music critics praised her innate talent.  

Uriel suggested he sang it exactly for those reasons even though it didn’t suit his person.  

It was a reasonable decision though.  

Clicks of pens and subtle scratched sounded as they wrote.  

They looked unmoved. His relief faltered.  

All of a sudden, a voice appeared behind him,  

“Please hand over your USB for the dancing section.”  

He turned around and saw the staff near his bag.  

He quickly approached and crouched to open it; his hands slightly shook as he unzipped the front pouch to grab his USB.  

“Sorry.” he whispered as his elbow accidentally knocked against the leg of the person.  

He fumbled with the cap, then handed it to the staff member near the speaker.  

“It’s the second file.” he said. “The one that says ‘Ver.2 faster.”  

Holding up the small device, they asked,  

“Is the song already cut?”  

“Yes, it’s forty-five seconds.” he responded, his foot discreetly tapping on the floor waiting for the pre-chorus to sound.  

The faint haze of heat resurfaced, dissolving into his flesh, befogging his body as he felt the temperature slowly increase.  

A strident whistle punctured his brain as a dull ache resounded, the buzz growing louder, clustering his senses.  

He pursed his lips as he grew impatient, soreness rising in his chest, aching and throbbing.  

Abruptly, the beat started.  

The clamorous guitar riff thundered, its blare bouncing off the walls, overloading the room with its sonorous songs.  

As if enraptured to the melody, his body started moving, arms unfurling and twisting while his legs swayed with the rhythm.  

Step after step, twirl after twirl, he steadily followed the beat, hearing his heart battering against his ribcage as a bursting vivacity pursued the verve of the song.  

Though some of his movements were slightly stiff, it felt enlivening with the boisterous maneuvers gliding across the floor and the rousing music seeping through his veins.  

It was energizing.  

As the seconds ticked, the song gradually faded, and the performance was finished.  

The rapid pounding slowly decreased.  

Beads of sweat drizzled down.  

The humming dissolved.  

Only the vivid vigor persisted.  

The evaluators silently scrawled on their papers with dull expressions as he nervously waited for the questions.  

The woman in the middle then started speaking,  

“You said you wrote songs, can you show us an example?”  

“Oh-yes it’s in my bag.” he hastily approached his bag, digging his hand inside to find sheets of paper.  

He quickly found what he wanted and gently handed it to the judges.  

“There are actually two songs in there.” he said while tugging his collar feeling it tighten.  

The lady grabbed the sheets as the two others leaned in, inspecting and scrutinizing.  

One was a confessional ballad he wrote during a winter day, the other was a raw sketch with scribbled notes in the margins.  

He could still feel the numbing cold piercing through his fingers.  

The time of their review gradually stretched.  

The loud hammering steadily returned, thrashing erratically, as the mist of heat blurred his senses, faint droplets rolling down.  

What felt like forever finally ended.  

They gently nodded, and the woman calmly handed the papers back then asked,  

“When did you start dreaming of this?”  

Dokja paused at that question.  

“...”  

He never really dreamed of this.  

It was just an opportunity that randomly popped up on a cold Tuesday.  

He was barely awake when it was suggested to him.  

Fingers rubbed the fabric of his collar, the rough material felt comforting.  

“... I never really dreamed of this.” he stopped, searching what to say next,  

“It was just a lucky moment that I grasped once I had the chance, and I held on.” he softly laughed and continued,  

“It’s not the career of an idol I dreamed of, it was a way to keep me occupied. Even if I was always exhausted, at least I had something to do, something to keep me here.”  

“Countless inked pages left to read, blank lines waiting to be filled... it felt nice to know that there was still something that I needed to do, to fulfill...”  

His eyes lowered as he trailed off, fixating on the smooth shine of the tiled flooring before peering back up with a sheepish smile,  

“Sorry, this was probably not the answer you were expecting.”  

“...”  

The man with the light brown hair exchanged a glance with the woman, unreadable.  

The evaluators stared at him for a few seconds before the lady said,  

“Thank you, we’ll contact you later for our answer.”  

And yelled,  

“Next please!”  

He lightly nodded, gave a polite wave of a hand, grabbed his bag and left the room.  

It felt slow, he quietly trudged in the hallway, listening to the echo of his steps, hushed thuds resonated from the polished floor as the aching buzz finally faded.  

It felt nice.  

The sun still radiated, illuminating the bright sky with its gleaming rays.  

Deafening engines roared as ear-piercing beeps sounded in the tedious daytime chatter of the streets.  

It felt loud.  

Everything passed in a blur and before he even knew it, he was laying on his rigid bed without bothering to remove his new sneakers.  

With a faint exhale, he gazed at the peeling paint on the water-damaged ceiling, unfurling cracks surfaced as small, bulging bumps rose.  

The exhilarating song wreathed in his head, looping repeatedly, until exhaustion finally won.  

It felt tiring.  

 

 

Chapter 11: The YooGil Company

Notes:

New chapter alert!!!
Hope you enjoy!
(Also I changed Dokja's age to 17 years old so it could follow the story's timeline.)

The gentle breeze grazed his skin as it billowed his shirt, wandering in the playground. 

It carried a faint hum, ambling in the wind while scattering the peaceful pile of leaves he meticulously stacked. 

The boy leaned quietly on his shoulder, a wisp of smoke befogging his face. He watched, dazed, at the dainty fingers stacking leaves while swaying his head to the soothing melody Dokja sang. 

“Bright shine in the night as I cry 

Tears drop, drop, drop 

Red, dazed as the fog dies 

Will I cry tonight?” 

The luminous sun cascaded muted gleams onto the dewy grass, small droplets flickering. 

Unexpectedly, the obscured face grasped his unoccupied hand and tenderly intertwined their fingers, the frigid and warm palms embracing. 

He gently laughed at the touch but still indulged in it. 

“Rivers flow as the doe drinks 

Soft fur comforts me as I cry 

Tears drop, drop, drop 

Blue, awake as the dream dies 

Will I find you in the tye?” 

The boy unlaced their hands and played curiously with his fingers, curling and unfurling them, while skimming the fresh bandage that slightly peeled. 

“It has all gone awry 

But the firefly illuminates the sky 

Will I cry tonight?” 

The hushed lull continued as he piled the intricate leaves, the solace of the silence hovering in the tranquil breeze. 

It swayed the careening tower, crumbling it as the remains slowly drifted away. 

A downhearted sigh escaped him as he gave up. 

He then glanced at the boy nestled against him with a soft smile. 

“Do you like songs?” Dokja asked, resting his head on the one of the blurred haze. 

The flame of mist peered up and sluggishly nodded, burrowing deeper into his neck, warm breath caressed the delicate skin. 

“You know, the reason I first came here was because I heard a piano and I wanted to see who was playing it.” he paused as he saw the boy staring at him. 

“I never got to see who it was.” 

Suddenly, a soft jab poked him in the side. He glimpsed at him with a confused expression, lightly rubbing the itching spot. 

The wisp of smoke slowly arose from his shoulder to face him. 

The boy gently tugged the finger he was holding to point at himself then directed his own finger towards the window of the house in the distance. 

Dokja furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before his eyes lit up. 

“You were the one playing the piano?” 

Befogged haze swerved as he nodded his head. 

He then gestured towards the crystalline window while pointing to his ears. 

After followed by a piano playing movement, his fingers deftly tapping on the air. 

Dokja tilted his head, slowly processing the gestures and hesitantly said, 

“You want...me to listen to you play the piano?” 

The boy shook his head and gazed at him for a few seconds before tracing a question mark on the ground. 

He let out a small gasp at the meaning of his movements and rephrased, 

“Do I want to listen to you play the piano?” 

The flame of mist nodded and pulled out his hands. 

A thumbs up and a thumbs down appeared in front of him, waiting patiently for his answer. 

A wide smile graced his face as he abruptly leaped to embrace him, arms encircling his body as hands lightly grasped his clothes and exclaimed enthusiastically, 

“Of course I want to!” 

- 

Lately, Mia’s Oppa has been acting weirdly. 

He keeps inviting this ugly ahjussi to dinner each time he gets the chance that it’s now becoming a daily routine. 

Every time he’s in the living room, he’s constantly glancing at the piano, sometimes sitting in front of it just staring at the keys. 

Except, before she’s never seen him play it, let alone look at it. 

Also, whenever she enters his room, he’s always reading some children’s book with a squid and a sunfish hugging each other? He barely reads! Now he’s obsessing on some random book that only has images? 

What’s worse is that last time they went shopping, he bought a whole bag, not a small packet, A WHOLE BAG of chocolates. 

It wasn’t even the good ones; it was the old ones wrapped in silver wrapper that tasted like dish soap. 

Yet he doesn’t let her touch it or eat it! He just lets it sit on his nightstand like it’s some sacred relic, untouchable by filthy mortal hands. 

And sometimes… he smiles at the chocolate. Like it’s a person. That’s creepy, right? That’s definitely creepy.  

Also, he never smiles –– this is not normal. 

This has gone for far too long... 

It has been endangering the safety of this home and Mia will not let it destroy the peace (and her sanity). 

She narrowed her eyes. 

There was only one explanation. 

Operation: Investigate Oppa had to begin. 

So, it’s time for the best, most hardworking, crime solving detective squad in Seoul –– the YooGil Company!  

Yoo Mia –– Agent Squid Slayer. 

Shin Yoosung –– Agent Beast Lord 

Lee Gilyoung –– Agent Insect King 

Biyoo –– Dokkaebi King 

Ever since crime tarnished the streets of Seoul, these four amazing agents emerged and used their masterful skills to protect the innocents and defeat evil. 

Without them, the world would be in chaos. 

She pulled out her bedazzled, JD-5149, limited edition, ultra sonic walkie talkie and said, 

“Radio Check. This is Agent Squid Slayer speaking. Do you hear me. Over.”  

“This is Agent Insect Ki- Read you loud –– clear. Over.” a muffled voice rang out, slightly unstable. 

Another voice immediately came after, 

“This is Agent Beast Lord speaking. Read you loud and clear. Over.” 

“This is Agent Squid Slayer speaking. Agent Insect King, your signal is unstable. Over.” 

“Radio Check. This is –– King speaking. –––– . Over.” 

“This is Agent Beast Lord speaking. Agent Insect King, your signal is still unstable. Over.” 

“Radio Check. –––– King speaking. Do you hear me. Over.”  

“No, we still can’t hear you. Where are you? Why is your signal so trash.” Mia frowned while she cuddled her enormous plushy, its bristles tickling her arm. 

“It’s not trash –––– are trash! I don’t –– bad signal.” 

“What do you mean “are trash” it’s clearly you who’s trash. We’re the ones with the good signal; you have a bad signal.” another voice countered, offended by the other. 

“No I don’t! You guys –– lying. You –––– liars!” 

“Stop! We have something WAYYY more important to talk about. Agent Insect King will just not be included.” Mia interrupted, heading towards her desk to inspect the information she had recently gathered. 

“NO! You guys –– without me! I am –––– the brain –––– trash.” 

“How dare-” 

“Exactly, we’re doing this without you because you are brain trash.” the other voice replied before she could retort. 

“YOU ––– bad ––– mission-” 

“Yes, you are-” 

“Alright, let’s concentrate on the task at hand first! Meet me at secret location #4.” she swept all the stuff on the table into her backpack. 

Launching the bag onto her shoulders, she grabbed the black sunglasses that hung on the stand and placed them on her head. 

And twirled in front of her shimmering mirror –– one last outfit check before heading out. 

She then dragged the giant fluff ball outside the room to guard the door. 

“Ok! Agent Biyoo, you are not to let anyone enter this super-secret place! Roger?” 

The plush careened and plopped lopsidedly on the floor. 

“Hey! No slacking on the job.” 

Mia slapped the fluff ball back into place and loudly discreetly headed towards the front door, lightly tip toeing on the wooden floor. 

Loud, blaring screams of monsters echoed from the television as the sonorous sounds of guns firing resonated; bullets shells dropping to the floor. 

Aggressive smashes of buttons and violent controlling of joysticks masked her steps. 

But... 

“Mia where are you going.” a deep voice sounded behind her. 

She rapidly turned around, her glittering keychains clinking against each other as sparkles dazzled under the light. 

“Uh... meeting up with Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung at the... secret location #4?” 

He furrowed his brows at those words, pausing his game and gently placing his controller on the couch. 

Then questioned, 

“And where’s secret location #4?” 

Her eyes panickily darted everywhere before she quickly twisted the doorknob while shouting, 

“Nowhere!” 

And with that she left, light-up sneakers hastily descending down the stairs with hastened stomps. 

- 

“Alright! So, this is a cold case that’s been left out for 3 weeks! Unsolved, only one suspect who has not been arrested due to insufficient evidence.” Mia slapped down a black folder onto the table, red words in bold wrote “Top Secret” on top of it, obviously classifying it as confidential, super-important files. 

“This is sensitive information, if anything is leaked.” She paused, removing her glasses as her tone darkened. “You will be sent to death by –– dish soap chocolate!”  

Loud gasp filled the room; this was serious. 

After her threat, she slowly opened the folder and slid several papers and photos across the table. 

The first photo was slammed down. 

“This is our victim.” She pointed. 

A boy of a dull expression and sharp features appeared, slightly scowling at the camera as black curls cascaded down the sides of his face. 

“Yoo Joonghyuk, a homeschooled 17 years old, born on the 3rd of August 1991. His parents are still alive but estranged and he lives alone with his younger sister. No friends except maybe the prime suspect but that’s improbable.” 

“What a loser...” the brown-haired boy disdainfully muttered. 

“Hey, don’t talk Agent Insect King! How dare you disrespect Op- the victim! He’s way better than that stupid Hyung you keep talking about.”  

“No, he’s not! Hyung is way more-” 

“Shh!” the short-haired girl slapped her hand onto his mouth then said, “Please continue, Agent Squid Slayer.” 

“Thank you, Agent Beast Lord.”  

Multiple other photos were placed onto the flat table, gleaming under the dim light of the dark room. 

“The victim has been showing weird behavior in these recent days. Such as inviting people to dinner.”  

A blurry polaroid of two obscured figures eating on a circular table was displayed for all to see, affirming her first claim. 

“Why is the picture blurry, who took this photo, it’s garbage” Agent Insect King impolitely criticized with a sneer.  

“It’s better than yours; they look like they’re took by someone who’s on a sugar rush.” Agent Beast Lord countered in a mocking tone. 

“No they don’t-” 

“Hey! We have a case to solve.” Mia interrupted, scoffing contemptuously, “Unprofessional.” 

Then continued, 

“Secondly, he keeps creepily harassing the piano.” 

Three clear photos in different angles were plastered in front of them; 

The first one had the victim silently sitting on a stool staring at the keys. 

The second one had him gazing at it while he sat on the couch. 

The third one had the victim standing next to it doing nothing else. 

“These are way better than the first one.” The brown-haired boy commented, grateful for the visible face. 

Agent Squid Slayer rolled her eyes all the way to the back of her head before dismissing his remark. 

“Thirdly, he obsessively reads this one book.” 

An image of the victim quietly admiring the cover of a squid and a sunfish hugging was shown, his facial expression had some traces of reminiscence. 

“Creepy...” 

An enraged glare was shot his way, immediately shutting him up. 

“Fourthly, he bought chocolates! On his own accord!” 

A befogged picture of Yoo Joonghyuk picking up a large bag of chocolates and placing them in his cart slid on the table. 

Disbelief was painted on the face of the agents. 

“Impossible!” Agent Insect King proclaimed, slamming his hands on the table and standing up from his chair. 

“Are you sure you didn’t force him to buy those?” he pointed an accusatory finger at Mia. 

“How dare you accuse me of such atrocities!” she leaned precariously on the table, approaching his face. 

“Agent Insect King is right; this is getting too suspicious...” Agent Beast Lord intervened, siding with the brown-haired boy. 

“Are you saying that I committed the crime!?” she stared at both of comrades, betrayal glinted in her eyes. 

“We didn’t say anything. Rule #18 dictates that external forces are not to interfere with the case, due to possibilities of misleading clues and altered evidence.” the short-haired girl paused, taking a deep breath before continuing,  

“Rule #64 states that no detective has the right to fabricate false cases, whether the reason is for entertainment or keeping the agency occupied, it’s a violation of our guidelines.” she narrowed her eyes with suspicion, sharply glancing at the black-haired girl. 

“Are you saying that you have breached our agreement by transgressing the rules we have constructed together?” Agent Beast Lord finished, waiting for Agent Squid Slayer to say her piece. 

“No! This is real! Oppa’s behavior has been strange for several weeks!” she defended herself, shock in her eyes. 

“The evidence is literally there!” her hand harshly slapped on the numerous photos, each one according to her words. 

“How can we know you didn’t fabricate them!?” Agent Insect King countered her argument, suspecting falsities in her proof. 

“If you don’t believe me... how about we proceed with the investigation then you’ll decide if I’m lying or not.”  

Both skeptical agents exchanged glances then huddled in a corner with hushed whispers, discussing their final decision. 

After a stretched moment of murmurs, finally, they both turned around staring at her. 

Eyes untrustful. 

Small beads of sweat rolled down her temple as her heart battered in its ribcage. 

Silence drifted into the obscure room as she waited for the answer. 

The tension becoming unbearable. 

Then, the short-haired girl opened her mouth, 

“We have discussed and decided.” she paused. 

Mia’s hands anxiously clenched the hem of her black coat, impatiently anticipating. 

“We are to continue investigating this case until we find enough reason to accuse you of violation of the rules of the guidelines.” 

At those words, an exhale of relief escaped her. 

“Ok! So, let’s continue...” 

- 

“THIS is our prime and only suspect.” 

A picture of a barely visible person slid on the table. 

Their face was half-obscured by a photo-bombing finger as the bright light gleamed, blinding a part of the polaroid. 

A boy of pale skin and black hair was identified as the potential culprit, though his features were not clear. 

“...” 

The two other agents stared at the picture with squinting eyes, trying to distinguish the face from the smudges that befogged it. 

“Is this supposed to be...uh-abstract? Like do we need to interpret his face?” the brown-haired boy said, still puzzled if the figure in the photo was actually a person. 

They both tilted their head, peering closer. 

“Are you sure that’s a person? It kind of looks like a squid if you look closer.” the short-haired girl commented, removing her sunglasses to see better. 

“Maybe it’s a melted snowman-” 

A light cough interrupted their discussion. 

Mia awkwardly scratched her head before continuing, 

“This is Ugly Squid Ahjussi, 17 years-” 

“You don’t know his name?” Agent Beast Lord frowned, her tone disappointed. 

“Uh...-it’s because he uses a nickname! So no one-” she cut herself off as she remembered something, 

“Wait, I have his school ID.” she shoved her hand into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a glimmering card. 

With a smooth glide, it landed on the center of the table for everyone to see. 

“Kim Dokja-” 

“Hyung!?” Agent Insect King exclaimed as his eyes landed on the familiar face. 

“You know this ugly ahjussi?!” she shouted, astoundment in her eyes. 

“He’s not ugly! Hyung is handsome, more handsome than your stupid Oppa!” he fumed, insulting her brother in return. 

“No he’s not! Your Hyung looks like he was conceived by a dried-out sea urchin!” she refuted his enraging comments, slandering his hyung instead. 

“Your Oppa-” 

“STOP!” the girl who was silent finally spoke, chiding, 

“We must keep a neutral stance in this investigation, what are we neanderthals?!”  

Both arguing agents finally shut up, not uttering another insult. 

“Please continue, Agent Squid Slayer.” 

“Thank you, Agent Beast Lord.” Mia thanked, adjusting the collar of her coat then recommenced, 

“Kim Dokja, 17 years old, goes to Hwangmok High School, born on the 15th of February 1991. There is no information about his family or friends... He probably doesn’t have any friends.” she slyly sneered. 

“Not true! Hyung has plenty of friends-”  

“Shush!” she shoved her scarf into his mouth. 

“The reason he is suspect number one is because ever since he was brought to our house, Oppa has started this bizarre behavior.”  

“At first, it was only sometimes glancing at the book and sparingly eyeing the piano, but now-” Agent Squid Slayer yanked the scandalous chocolate buying photo and rammed it into their faces, 

“Look at how it escalated!!!” she exclaimed, rubbing it into their faces. 

“So, what do you suggest we do now?” Agent Beast Lord questioned, spreading all the evidence across the table to have a fuller view. 

Mia glanced at her, her expression gradually turning ominous as she interlaced her fingers together. 

“We interrogate him.”  

- 

The frigid breeze of the morning traversed the street, the opened cracks in the sidewalk harbored arid, sprouting herbs. 

It was weirdly quiet for a Sunday afternoon. 

Dusty clouds crowded the grey sky; the obscured in the shadows. 

Mia tugged her leather, black coat as the cold crept up to her while readjusting her sunglasses as to not fall. 

They quietly followed Agent Insect King as he led towards the shady apartment, he too shivering from the bitter wind. 

“Here we are.” he stopped in front of the spiraling stairs, cement stairs slightly chipped. 

He then turned towards Agent Squid Slayer, 

“You better give me my Dokkaebi star gummies after this.” he said while narrowing his eyes on her. 

“Are you sure this is the place?” Agent Beast Lord interjected, suspicious of their environment. 

“Of course, it is, it’s not surprising that ugly ahjussi lives here.” she scoffed, sliding a snarky remark. 

“No! It’s because Hyung doesn’t rely on anyone!” the brown-haired boy argued, ascending the endless steps. 

“Oppa doesn’t rely on anyone either!” Mia countered, angrily stomping on the cement. 

“Yes he does!” 

“No he doesn’t!” 

“Yes he does!” 

“No he-” 

“Guys!” the short-haired girl interrupted, 

“People are sleeping.” 

“Who would sleep in the afternoon?” Agent Insect King frowned. 

“Lazy people, duh.” she maliciously smirked then added, 

“Like that ugly ahjussi.” 

“No he’s not-” 

“Is this his apartment number?” Agent Beast Lord intervened before another fight erupted. 

The boy glanced to the side and affirmatively nodded, 

“Yup, this is the one.” 

“Alright, I’ll knock.” Agent Squid Slayer directly walked up to the door without waiting any further answer and shouted, 

“FBI OPEN UP!” while pounding on the door. 

“...” 

“See? Lazy person.”  

“Hyung is not-” 

Abruptly, the door was slammed open as a haggard figure came out. 

A pale face emerged, thin, black strands messily tussled. His long eyelashes fluttered as he tiredly rubbed his eyes, gazing at the scene in front of him. 

“Why the hel- heck are you guys here.” he widened his eyes as he realized who were in front of him. 

“Move away, Squid boy.” Mia barged her way through, her words disdainful. 

Agent Beast Lord moved in front of him, a gleaming card appeared in front of him, 

“Sir is this you?” a photo flashed before him. 

“Yes-wait how do you have my school ID-” 

“Sir Kim Dokja, you are suspected of being the cause of the weird behavior of Sir Yoo Joonghyuk these recent days.” she paused, removing her sunglasses, 

“On the behalf of the YooGil Company, we have the right to interrogate your weird actions concerning Sir Yoo Joonghyuk.” her hand shoved into the pocket of her black coat then pulled a paper and pen. 

“Please sign these forms that you are consenting to this investigation.” 

“Uh... no?-”  

“SEE! He is clearly guilty! He isn’t consenting to the interrogation, obviously because he knows we will find out that he’s the mastermind behind all this!” Mia arrogantly pointed towards him with a victorious grin. 

She then glanced to Agent Insect King. 

“Tape him to the chair!”  

“What?” before Dokja could react, he was being tugged by multiple tiny people to a creaky chair. 

He was pushed down on the hard seat and was tightly wrapped in scarves; every limb being bound. 

“Hey!-” his mouth was then blocked by a fluffy fabric. 

The chair screeched as it was harshly dragged across the floor towards the kitchen, the detectives uncaring for the floor. 

In a blur, all the photos and evidence were spread out on the smooth counter as the agents faced him. 

“Remove the scarf!” Agent Squid Slayer commanded. 

The short-haired girl aggressively pulled off the scarf, freeing his right to speech. 

“Mia, what are you-” a finger shushed him. 

“That’s Agent Squid Slayer to you!” she corrected then slipped out the first photo. 

“Do you recognize this boy?” a scowling face appeared before him. 

“Uh-yes? But what does-”  

“When was the last time you saw him?” the brown-haired boy cut his questioning off, leaning into him from his right. 

“Gilyoung you’re on this too?-” 

“That’s Agent Insect King to you!” he interrupted. 

“Sir Kim Dokja please answer the question.” the short-haired girl added, leaning from his other side. 

Seeing his questions would not be answered, Dokja let out a sigh of defeat and responded, 

“Friday, the 21st was the last time we met.” 

“How would you describe your relationship with Sir Yoo Joonghyuk?” Agent Beast Lord immediately questioned. 

“Uh-... close acquaintances? Maybe friends? I don’t know.”  

“How did you guys first meet?” 

“I was injured, and he took care of my wounds.” 

Agent Squid Slayer interjected, his answers weren’t lining up, 

“If it was the first time you guys met, why didn’t he bring you to a hospital? Why go through the trouble of bringing you to his apartment?”  

“I don’t know ask him?”  

The three detectives exchanged glances, and Agent Insect King then asked, 

“Do you know this book?” 

A picture of the cover of a children’s book of two sea creatures hugging was slapped down in front of him, 

“I think I saw it before but never read it.” 

“Do you eat these?”  

The photo of a red bag filled with silver wrappers appeared on the table. 

“I think I saw these in the store once, but I never tasted them.” 

Agent Beast Lord questioned,  

“Do you play the piano?” 

“Non, I don’t play instruments.” 

“Do you listen to piano music?” 

“Sometimes, but not often.” 

Seeing the interrogation wasn’t going anywhere, Agent Squid Slayer tried another question, 

“Why does Sir Yoo Joonghyuk keep inviting you to dinner?” 

“How am I supposed to know, the first time I was forcefully dragged. His food is pretty delicious though I can’t complain.” 

“...” 

A cumbersome stiffness slowly shifted between the four of them. 

The masterful agents were stuck. 

Until... 

“LIES!” Mia declared, pulling Dokja closer by the scarf. 

“How can you not know anything?!”  

“There must be something you’re hiding! Why would Oppa be acting so weird?”  

The suspect furrowed his brows then said, 

“I don’t what you guys are accusing me of, but all I know is that “Sir Yoo Joonghyuk” keeps inviting me to dinner.” he paused with a tired exhale, 

“Can you let me go now?” 

Agent Squid Slayer reluctantly ungripped the scarf and looked at both agents, silently discussing what to do next. 

They then huddled, crouched, underneath the counter, faint mutters sounding inaudibly. 

After a long minute, 

The three detectives then reappeared ––– they have decided their verdict. 

Agent Beast Lord quietly pulled out a small wooden gavel, sliding it one the table. 

While the brown-haired boy took out a praying mantis, its arms peacefully laying on his hands. 

Finally, Mia handed it a tiny, wooden hammer to the insect then shouted, 

“We declare you...” 

A long pause stretched as the anticipation rose, tension in the room. 

“INNOCENT!” 

And with that, he was quickly unfurled as the children quickly shoved all the documents into the black folder. 

He was shoved into a lonely corner as he watched them rush everywhere. 

The agents gathered all their scarves on the chair and rapidly wrapped them back around their necks. 

They then dragged the chair back to where it was, the aggrieving, aggravating shriek recommencing. 

Loud, boisterous steps resonated as they escaped, the door slamming on their way. 

The case was to be continued... 

He stared at his slightly scratched floor with a sigh. 

“What the hell happened.” 

Before he could try to understand, jumped at the unexpected noise, 

The strident ring of his phone resonated behind him. 

He exhaustingly twirled around and walked towards his nightstand, sliding his finger on the respond button, 

“Hello?” 

“Hello is this Kim Dokja? This is Gung Dae-Ho, casting assistant from Constellations Entertainment.” 

“Yes, this is Kim Dokja.” he replied as he sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers slightly trembling. 

The pounding in his chest quickened, each beat echoing in his ears. 

As the faint haze of heat surfaced. 

“Congratulations. We'd like to offer you a position as a trainee at Constellations Entertainment. You did very well in the private audition, and we see great potential in you.” 

He froze. 

Slowly processing the words that came out. 

“Eh...?” was all he could muster. 

“We'll be sending more information soon regarding your contract, training schedule, and relocation details. Do you have any questions right now?” 

“I—no, I just… thank you.” 

“We're excited to work with you. Welcome to the team.” 

And with that, the call cut off. 

Chapter 12: Low-Pitched Buzz

Notes:

Training arc soon!!! I promise!
(I'm trying to make this kind of realistic so this is a bit slow-paced)

Dull skies hovered above his head as the clustered clouds trudged silently, forming curious shapes as they interlaced. 

Frigid wind blew through, grazing his numbed fingers, gradually becoming a red hue. 

A bitter afternoon frost. 

Quiet. 

Unusual for school lunch period. 

But it was peaceful. 

No one was pestering him. 

Deprived of noise as everyone chose to stay inside to eat. 

He would’ve gone to the library, except it was closed due to budget cuts and staff shortages. 

Unfortunate. 

Good thing he returned his books in time. 

The crisp cold slowly slithered under his uniform, even with the warmth of the coat he wore. 

He trembled, wrapping his arms around himself to gather the subsiding heat. 

The hushed hum of the breeze was soothing; its strident whistle muted. 

Suddenly, 

“Kim Dokja!” a familiar voice sounded behind him. 

He peered over his shoulder and spotted two familiar figures. 

An aggravating, nagging smirking face. 

And a calm, friendly smiling face. 

He and Han Sooyoung had recently started eating lunch together, ever since she forced him to be her beta reader, so it was expected to see her, but Yoo Sangah was a new edition. 

He’d only talked to her at the audition, but apparently that was enough for her to want to eat with him. 

Or maybe it was just Han Sooyoung who dragged her along. 

“What are you doing out here? It’s cold as hell.” The aggrieving girl commented despite joining him on the ledge, lightly shoving him to the side for more space. 

“Sooyoung-ah is right, it’s quite chilly outside.” the affable girl agreed sitting right next to her as she settled her lunchbox on her lap. 

“Well, it’s better than staying inside, plus I can enjoy the silence here.” his eyes trailed to his right. “...Well, not anymore.” 

The aggravating girl rolled her eyes but didn’t reply. 

“It’s true that it’s way quieter, you can’t even hear a thing here.” Yoo Sangah acknowledged, slowly opening the container. 

The wind blew harder, biting the shivering skin of his neck as he felt it stiffen. 

Han Sooyoung tilted her head towards with him an inquisitive look. 

He already knew what she was going to ask. 

“So... have you read the new chapter I sent you?”  

He lightly sneered at the expected question, 

“How am I supposed to read it if you literally sent it this morning just before school?” and furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at her. 

“During breaks? You could’ve read it just a few seconds ago instead of sitting here like a loner.” she replied, sliding a snarky remark. 

“Says the person who’s only social interactions are with her readers.” Dokja countered, his face approaching hers. 

“Well, I’m doing something productive unlike someone who only consumes, contributing nothing to society.” Sooyoung eyed him, with obvious implications, leaning forward as well. 

“People like me are the ones who makes you recognized and money, so maybe you should be thanking my services I’m doing for free.”  

“And I’m letting you see my work in advance for free, you should be thanking me.” 

“As if your work is worth anything.” 

“You read-” vexation seethed in her words, sadly she was cut off. 

“Kim Dokja! How did the audition go? Sorry I couldn’t wait for you afterwards; my parents called me home.” Sangah interjected, unwilling to let the argument escalate. 

He stared at her for a second before responding, 

“It went alright...” he paused, reluctantly continuing, 

“But I guess it was good since they told me yesterday that I was accepted.” 

A loud gasp escaped her as a hand covered her mouth, 

“You got accepted?” her eyes lit up as a smile graced her face. 

“Yeah...” he awkwardly scratched his head with a sheepish smile. 

“That was fast, I haven’t even gotten my results back yet.”  

“Really? I would’ve thought you received them before me.” he widened his eyes in surprise. 

She faintly laughed and denied his compliment with a dismissing hand, 

“You think too highly of me, it looks like they really like you if you got the response so early.”  

“Maybe it was just luck? They probably mistook me for someone else, accidentally placing priority on me.” 

A scoff sounded next to him, 

“Dude, are you serious?” Sooyoung said, rolling her eyes. 

“Stop being a loser trying to downplay his talents –– well at least you’re not a showoff prick.” 

“But you’re still a prick, just not a showoff.” she added, opening her own bag. 

“What-” 

The brown-haired girl lightly coughed and changed the subject, 

“Did they tell you anything about training?” 

He grimaced at Han Sooyoung her smirking face taunting him. 

Then responded, 

“No, they told me they would send me more information later, whatever that means.” 

“Better be prepared because you’re going to have to sign contracts and all that boring crap-” 

“Wait which company are you signing with already?” the short-haired girl questioned as she bit into her sandwich. 

“Constellations Entertainment.” 

At those words, she almost choked, holding her throat and slowly swallowing, 

“Holy shit –– they’re huge.” she spat. 

She then rapidly turned towards her friend, betrayal in her eyes. 

“Hey, you didn’t say you were going to audition with them?” 

Sangah tucked her hair behind her ear as she glanced elsewhere, 

“I didn’t think it was that important to mention.” 

“Fake friends.” Sooyoung scornfully muttered then added, “Better promote my book when you guys are famous.” 

“No thanks, that’ll tarnish my reputation.” Dokja mocked, adjusting his coat as to not feel the oncoming cold breeze. 

“As if you’ll have a reputation with that face.” The short-haired girl snarked back, clearly irked by his insult. 

- 

Stacks of assignments cluttered his desk, broken pencil lead scattered everywhere on the surface as he was on his nth try to sharpen his pencil. 

Twirling his pencil as he twisted it in the hole, the strident ringtone of his phone suddenly sounded. 

Startled, he dropped his pencil sharpener, cone-shaped shavings littered the ground as the harsh clack of the plastic trinket resonated against the hard, wooden floor. 

He groaned at the sight of the mess and sluggishly picked up his phone. 

“AH-” a piercing squeal rang out from the phone. 

Shattering his hearing and probably ability to function. 

Frightened by the petrifying shriek, he precariously leaned backwards tilting his chair. 

Except, he tilted a little too backwards... 

A loud thud echoed in his apartment as he landed on the floor. 

Pencil shavings clinging to his shirt. 

Thankfully, he didn’t somehow bash his head into the hard wood. 

“You got accepted! Oh my god! How could you not tell me!?” the recognizable, enthusiastic voice chided, disappointment in her tone. 

“I thought you would already know?”  

“They just told me today!”  

“Sorry...” he gritted, his expression twisting from the pain that sprouted in his back. 

“It’s alright” she paused, then added, 

“I knew that you would get accepted! I’m so proud of you!”  

He softly laughed at her excitement while rolling out of his fallen seat. 

“Anyways I need to provide you the necessary information for your entrance evaluation.” 

“Entrance evaluation?” he furrowed his eyebrows at those words. 

“Yup! It’s to determine you training level and all that stuff.” 

He sighed and grunted as his back ached, sorely rubbing the throbbing pain. 

“Ok, let me get a paper.”  

A hand tightly grasped the edge of the desk and slowly hoisted himself up, cradling his back. 

Before a voice stopped his ministrations. 

“No need to get a paper I’ll send you the info by email, just calling for congratulations.” 

At those words, he steadied himself on the desk, elbow planted on the hard surface and said, 

“Oh-uh... Thank you...?” 

“Wait-don’t say thank you yet, I haven’t said congratulations!” strange shuffling sounds sounded from the other side. 

“What?-” 

“CONGRA-” her shrill scream was cut off as he heard kazoo sounds in the background, replacing her voice instead. 

“Alright, I’ll send you the email now, bye bye!”  

“And a cake.” she added. 

“Wait-” the call was disconnected before he could finish. 

“...” 

Abruptly a notification popped up on his phone. 

He curiously opened his inbox and clicked on the email. 

Subject: Invitation to Entrance Evaluation Assessment –– Constellations Entertainment 

To: [email protected] 

From: [email protected] 

Date: Monday, November 24th, 2008   

Dear Kim Dokja, 

Thank you again for auditioning for Constellations Entertainment. 

Before officially beginning your training, you are required to attend a final in-person evaluation session at our company headquarters. This evaluation is a standard part of our trainee selection process and is used to assess compatibility with the full-time training program. 

Evaluation details: 

Date: Saturday, November 29th, 2008 

Time: Please arrive by 9:00 AM (evaluation starts at 10:00 AM sharp) 

Location: Constellations Entertainment HQ  

–––––––, Seoul South Korea  

Sign-in table will be placed at the lobby, follow staff instructions for the evaluation. 

You will be asked to perform the following:  

- Brief Self-introduction 

- 1-minute dance routine (self-choreographed, dance cover or freestyle) 

- 1-minute vocal piece (pop ballad mandatory) 

- 1 rap verse or freestyle (optional) 

- 

A slight frown formed on his face as he read the time. 

Then scoffed at the performance information. 

“Isn’t my audition enough proof?” he mumbled, scrolling further. 

- 

Please bring: 

- Government-issued ID or passport (school ID if under 18) 

- Practice clothes & sneakers 

- Towel & water bottle 

- Signed policy acknowledgement 

Please note: 

- This evaluation & is mandatory for all accepted trainees before official onboarding. 

- Final decisions will be communicated within 1–5 business days following the evaluation. 

If you are unable to attend on the above date due to extenuating circumstances, please contact us immediately. 

We look forward to seeing you and evaluating your potential as part of the Constellations family. 

Warm regards, 

Trainee Evaluation Team 

Constellations Entertainment 

[email protected] | +XX-X-XXX-XXXX 

An exhausted exhale escaped him as he tumbled flat onto his rigid bed, uncaring for the ache on his back. 

The frigid wind slipped through the narrow slit of the window, caressing his bare skin. 

“How many performances do they want...” he muttered while rereading the email, silently organizing the information in his head. 

“Self-choreographed...?”  

“...” 

With a swift movement, he threw his phone into the thin blanket. 

He then grabbed the stiff pillow and suffocated himself, internally screaming. 

The soft fabric muffling his aggrieved shouts. 

‘Should’ve bashed my head into the floor.’ 

- 

His grip tightened on the strap of his bag, with reluctant steps, he slowly entered the reception area. 

Glass walls surrounded him, glimmering sunlight piercing through the crystalline glass, illuminating the polished tiles of the floor. 

The lobby was drenched in bland colors, deprived of life, the only vitality was the television screen where it broadcasted the active idols of the company. 

His eyes peered up and spotted the receptionist counter, deadpanned-faced staff silently checking names on the clipboard they held, absentmindedly flicking their pens. 

A prominent company logo was presented behind them, large, bold letters grandiosely spelling the company’s name. 

He glanced to his right and spotted in a shoved corner was a large table next to a sign that said “Trainees sign-in here” with an arrow pointing towards the staff. 

There was already small line of two people standing there, unrecognizable faces waited there with bored expressions as they scrolled through their phones. 

He guessed it was there that he needed to wait. 

So, he quietly approached the line tugging his bag as to not fall off his shoulder and stood there, an uneasiness writhing in his stomach. 

One person glimpsed at him but paid no mind afterwards. 

After a few minutes, it came to his turn to check in, the staff member lightly swept his figure then asked, 

“Name?” 

“Kim Dokja.” he responded with a sheepish smile. 

“Please hand over your ID.” 

He quickly shoved his hand into his pocket for a few seconds and pulled out a shimmering card, 

“Sorry, here.” 

Subtle clicks filled the awkward silence before the person interrupted, 

“Please hand over your USB or device containing performing music.” 

“Ah, yes, just a second.” he nervously unzipped the front pouch of his bag and handed the device. 

“Last one, signed policy acknowledgement.”  

Dokja faintly nodded a white folder, sliding it onto the table, 

“Got it here.” 

A few moments passed as the staff quickly verified all the information. 

“Alright, you’re good to go, please wear this and do not take it off until the end of the day where you’ll hand it here.” they gave him back his school ID with a laminated name tag labeled number 2 on it, the glossy sheen reflected the dim lights. 

“Please head down that hallway, follow the taped arrows on the floor then wait for more instructions afterwards.” 

They pointed towards a wide hallway, luminescent lights brightened the quiet hall, hushed footsteps echoed as muffled music resonated from closed door. 

As he passed through, he glanced at the transparent windows as they displayed multiple people vigorously dancing, each step precise, each movement smooth, each beat accurate. 

Coaches and staff members walking rapidly across, tightly gripping clipboards with dull expressions. 

He followed the black arrows plastered on the floor and finally arrived at the designated room, on the side of the door it wrote “Trainee Entrance Evaluation”. 

He curiously peeked through the doorframe and glimpsed at the people inside, there were four people; some were stretching while others were discreetly whispering or scrolling on their phone. 

As he entered, mirrored walls reflected his person as ballet barres horizontally striked through, their burnished metal gleaming under the light. 

A few curious gazes landed on him. 

Dokja slowly made his way towards an isolated spot and plopped down there, knees against his chest, casually observing the other people. 

“...” 

‘It’s quiet.’ 

What should he do now? 

He rhythmically tapped his fingers on the floor as he pursed his lips. 

His eyes darting between his bag and the person stretching. 

Struggling between two choices; 

Stretching or Web novel. 

Suddenly, two familiar creatures appeared on his shoulders. 

“Go stretch! Or else when it’ll be your turn for the dance performance you’ll be aching everywhere!” Angel Dokja suggested, his white wings fluttering in the air. 

“As if that’ll happen, we’re going to be fine... we’re fit enough, go read that web novel or you’ll die of boredom.” Devil Dokja scoffed at the white creature, approaching his pocket to pull out the phone. 

“You’re going to die of back pain before you die of boredom!” The white-winged creature hastily blocked the other one, pristine feathers flapping everywhere. 

“We’ve already suffered enough back pain to become immune, now stop worrying like a wuss and start reading.” the red-horned creature angrily shoved away the angel and landed his grimy fingers on the phone. 

“No, it’ll only become worst! Then we’ll never have our chance to become an idol!” Angel Dokja shrieked, swatting the sly hand away. 

“Who cares about being an idol! Did you see all the problem baggage it came with? Plus, most of the stuff we spat during that interview was bullshit.” Devil Dokja argued hurriedly backing away as to not get touched by the clean hands of the other. 

“It wasn’t bullshit! It was sincere words, directly from the heart!” 

“No, it wasn’t!” 

“Yes. It. Was.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then, prove it, how was it sincere?” the red-horned creature suggested, leaning into the white-winged creature’s face. 

“Because it wasn’t scripted and we said it on the blue! We told our real feelings!” the angel advanced even more forward, pressing their foreheads together. 

“No, we didn’t, those were words to please the judges, not sincere.”  

“Who would tell judges “Being an idol was never my dream”?!”  

“People who think strategically! Saying “Oh, ever since I was in the womb, I’ve always dreamt of being an idol where everyone admires, blah, blah, blegh!” he paused taking a long inhale. 

“Do you really think the evaluators would believe that?”  

“If it was sincere, yes!”  

Suddenly, a calm voice rang out,  

“Number #1, Dae Jiwoo, please enter.” 

The boy who was previously stretching, lightly got up and walked towards the door the staff were standing nearby. 

“...” 

‘I should probably stretch...’ he glanced at the number two on his nametag. 

‘But...’ he slowly took out his phone. 

Abruptly, a notification popped on his screen, 

Uriel 

Don’t forget to stretch! 

“...” 

With a defeated sigh, he tucked his phone back in and settled himself in a cross-legged position. 

Interlacing his fingers in front of his chest, he pulled his arms upwards and subtly heard the cracking of his bones. 

He felt his body slightly lighten. 

‘Welp, I’ve stretched.’ then he pulled back his phone and jumped directly to his novel. 

- 

“Number #2, Kim Dokja, please enter.” the dull voice of the staff sounded. 

Dokja rapidly whipped his head upwards, away from his screen, to look at who called him out. 

Realizing it was his turn, he hastily shoved his phone into his pocket and slung his bag over his shoulder. 

The subtle swaying of water sounded, muffled under the restraints of the bag. 

He peeked behind his shoulder to see if he didn’t forget anything and headed down towards the indicated door. 

His fingers nervously fidgeted with the string of his hoodie, rubbing the braided threads. 

The person waiting nearby motioned him to follow them and stepped out. 

And with that, 

He was back in the illuminated hall, the thuds of his sneakers faintly resounded against the floor, asynchronous with the one’s of the staff. 

The familiar hushed steps and muffled music were still there, the sturdy door desperately blocking them out. 

After a few moments of walking, 

They arrived at a room further away in the hallway, tucked in the corner where it accompanied the lonely potted plant that resided in the shadows. 

Its leaves depressingly wilting. 

The staff gestured him to enter inside. 

Before he could say anything, they started walking away without another word. 

‘Rude.’ 

He turned his head to stare at the room. 

“...” 

He quietly shuffled near the doorframe, his hands gripping the edges and peered out. 

Glancing both ways, no one was in sight. 

‘It’s empty...’ 

‘Did they trick me?’ 

He slowly retracted his head and reluctantly entered. 

Tugging his bag, his eyes swept across the room, it was about the same as the waiting room. 

Wooden, polished floor, mirrored walls encircled him with the metal ballet barres. 

‘Is this some kind of escape room?’ 

‘I didn’t know they evaluated critical thinking.’ 

He looked behind him there was multiple wires with a camera in the back, a duo of speakers huddled in the corner, next to it were expressionless judges- 

Wait-judges? 

Startled, he rapidly spun on the balls of his heels, lightly stumbling on his steps, hair whipping in his face as he twirled. 

The metal water bottle in his bag harshly hitting his hip from the brisk movement, earning a muffled groan from him as he bit his lip, almost drawing blood. 

He bitterly rubbed the gnawing pain with a forced smile, lips pursing. 

Then nervously swiped the troublesome hair away from his face, black strands tickling his pale cheek. 

With an awkward wave of a trembling hand, he silently dropped his bag onto the floor, wincing at the loud thud of the metal. 

And steadily sidestepped towards the center of the room, fully presenting himself in front of the evaluators while internally resisting the urge to knead the throbbing spot on his hip. 

The panel of judges in front of him were not the same ones of the private audition.  

One was a woman, she had luscious, straight red hair with side-swept bangs that framed her round face. Black diamond-shaped earrings dangled from her ears, scintillating in the light, complimenting the black blazer she wore with a hunter green blouse. 

A smiling expression painted her face, her thoughts unreadable. 

Next to her was a muscular, frowning man, arms crossed on his chest. He had a buzz cut with a blonde goatee and a dainty pearl earring that gleamed on one side, the other was a thin golden hoop.  

He wore a silken, peach colored vest with a white scarf wrapped around his neck, tied in a side twist knot. 

They both stared at him wordlessly, eyes observing each of his actions. 

Dokja lightly coughed and started his introduction, 

“Hello, I’m Kim Dokja, 17 years old from Seoul. My main focus is vocals and uh... yeah.” he paused for a second before adding, 

“Oh-wait, and I hope to show you my potential today. Thank you.” and bowed. 

He felt burdensome gazes on him. 

An itch burned in his side as a low-pitched hum simmered. 

The lady quietly scribbled down something in her notes as the man absentmindedly stared at him.  

Then she said with a flat voice despite her friendly ––sort of –– smile, 

“Alright, nice to meet you, Kim Dokja. We have your music ready, just need to confirm that it’s “Paroxysm” instrumental version by Neutralities, right?” 

“Yup, that’s it.” a prick stung at his forehead. 

“Ok, say when you want to start.” 

With a faint nod, 

He gently closed his eyes, long, lashes fluttering against the pale skin, casting dark shadows. 

His chest upheaved as he took a soft inhale, a brisk breeze darted into his body, clustering his lungs before he exhaled, the crisp air flowing into the room. 

Though it did not subside the creeping heat that radiated at the back of his neck. 

And with that he said, 

“I’m ready.” 

The familiar drum beat immediately started. 

- 

A haze of heat dissolved into his skin, swirling with the crystalline droplets that trickled down his forehead, glistening skin under the lights of the room. 

A restraining sensation confined his chest as his desperate breaths grew heavier, a sore scratch in his throat throbbed as the cool air traveled. 

At the last beat, he faltered to his knees, framing his head with furled fingers, a malicious smile branded his expression as he dropped to the floor, lifeless. 

His face disappearing as he curled into a ball. 

After a few moments of silence, 

He braced his hands against the floor and sluggishly pushed himself back up. 

Anchoring himself with his knees. 

He slowly stood up and bowed, hands behind his back, his vision slightly blurring from his rigid movement. 

The hammering of his heart thrummed. 

Eyes up, he stared at the evaluators, waiting for their next instructions, suddenly the lady spoke, 

“You're clearly very musical –– your timing and interpretation were excellent. You connect well to the rhythm, and you know how to perform." she remarked, her smile slightly down turning, 

“That said, your technique still needs refinement. Your transitions could be cleaner, and your core strength shows signs of inconsistency towards the end.” she paused and with a final word,  

“Work on endurance so you can maintain your energy throughout.” 

After she said her piece, the man started commenting his thoughts, 

“I agree, you’ve got strong musicality and stage presence — that part’s natural. But your body can’t keep up with your ideas yet.” he praised, but then frowned as he continued,  

“Technique’s around average for your level, and endurance dropped too early. If you want to stand out long-term, you’ll need to build more control and conditioning.” he concluded, writing a few words on his notebook. 

The lady spoke again,  

“Next, please present us the name and artist of your vocal piece.” 

A pricking sensation crawled under his skin, tingling as he spoke trembling words, 

“The ballad I’ll be performing is “Pearl Crow” by Si Eui.” 

The red-haired lady quickly scrawled with her pen and said, 

“Start when you’re ready.” 

He softly nodded, the scorching mist gradually swelling as a discomfort billowed, cluttering his chest as the malaise in his stomach spiraled. 

He took a slow breath, the soothing, frigid breeze alleviating the searing heat creeping onto him as he started. 

But it still persisted. 

“Fluorescent, the pellucid feels drown 

As I watch the glow of the night settle 

The wind billows my nightgown 

Drenched in pearl-like petals 

 

And if I break, the crows will know my ache 

Sadistic beaks feasting on my corpse 

You’ll find me at daybreak 

Skin akin to pearls as I wait in my throe 

 

Incandescent, the silken tears are found 

As I witness the flow of the drops in shackles 

The crows flutter with the crown 

Embed in the stone-like candles” 

As he said the last line, he gazed at the evaluators. 

The man had a faint glint in his eyes, indecipherable, but the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned. 

He remarked first, 

“Your pitch control and emotional delivery were outstanding — you really connected with the song. You also showed impressive range without forcing it, which is rare at this level.” he applauded and continued, the glint in his eye disappeared,  

“That said, your breath support still needs work. You lost a bit of control during longer phrases, which affected stability.” he finished with his last comment, 

“Focus on diaphragmatic breathing to improve stamina and polish.” 

It was the lady’s turn, 

“You’re clearly gifted vocally. But without proper breath management, that potential won’t last long in this industry. You’re skating by on natural tone and emotion — which works now, but it won’t on a live stage with choreography.” she observed, acknowledging his talents,  

“Start building technical stamina now, or it’ll hold you back later.” she suggested and wrote a few words. 

A hushed whistle echoed in his head as their comments sounded, the swirling heat finally diminishing as the hum gradually intertwined with the buzz of the lights. 

The woman clasped her hands together with a clap and said, 

“Alright, now this is the Q&A section, it won’t be long. We’ll ask three to six questions then you’ll be good to go.”  

Dokja nodded to her words as his foot started subtly tapping against the floor, waiting for the questions. 

“What do you think is your strongest area?” the man asked, his pen lightly poking his cheek as he stared at him. 

He stuttered in his thoughts for a moment, the repeating movement of his foot stopped. 

Before hesitantly responding, 

“Well-uh... I would think it’s my creativity, but-it can’t really be considered creativity since most of it are random, spontaneous ideas I go off on and try to make work.” 

Both listened to his answer and silently scribbled in their notebook before the woman asked, 

“What led you to choose “Paroxysm” for your dance performance?” 

He lightly tucked the loose strand of his hair behind his ear and answered with an honest expression, 

“The reason isn’t really meaningful, I didn’t have some strategy into choosing it or anything...” he trailed off, thinking of his next words,  

“I just liked the explosiveness and the rhythm and thought “Hey, this could make a good dance” and before I knew it, a self-produced choreography just plopped in front of me.” 

The eyes of the red-haired lady momentarily lit up before dimming down a second later, swirling her pen between her fingers. 

Then the blonde-haired man queried,  

“What do you think you need to improve on the most?” 

He let out a small laugh, 

“I would say... it’s definitely my endurance, only after a single dance I’m already out of breath so it’s a bit obvious.” and responded while sheepishly smiling. 

“What kind of artist do you want to be?” 

“Uhm-...” he stumbled on his words. 

“...” a faint swallow echoed. 

His fingers interlaced with each other as they hid behind his back, nail gently scraping of the pale skin. 

Teeth biting his inner cheek as he mulled over the answer, a dull ache carving into the back of his head. 

It felt heavier. 

“I don’t really care about that, but...” he paused glimpsing to the side, 

“It would be nice to be someone where people can look up to and be comforted, understood by the lyrics I write... and yeah.” his voice lowered as he continued speaking. 

“I guess I want to be an artist that comforts people, though I’m sure that’s what a lot of people want.” 

“So be it... I’m just part of that group then.” 

“...” 

The two evaluators stared at him wordlessly, eyes scrutinizing his person. 

The loose fabric of his hoodie scraped against his skin, an itching sensation propagated through his body. 

Eyes uncaring at his discomfort. 

They both exchanged glances and the man spoke, 

“The evaluation is finished, we’ll notify you about our contracts after our assessment of your skills, you’ll later receive an email about orientation.” he finished writing his last words in his notebook and pointed towards the door, 

“You can leave this way, follow the red arrows on the floor and you will find the exit.” 

He froze for a second, he did not expect it would end so quickly. 

He gathered his senses and thanked, 

“Thank you.” with a polite bow. 

He hurriedly picked up his bag from the floor, the metal bottle weighing it down, and left the room. 

Inaudible steps echoed as he passed by the lonesome plant. 

The moment he was out of view, he slumped back against the wall, his knees stumbling as he slid onto the polished ground, feeling each miniscule bumps on the wall. 

The enlivening cold was alleviating. 

Grounding. 

A coarse sigh escaped him as he hastily searched in his bag for his water bottle. 

He fumbled removing the cap, his fingers trembling as he drank the lukewarm water, appeasing the sore itch of his parched throat. 

With a smooth swipe, he wiped the water that dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he sunk into his spot of the floor. 

The damp spot of his sleeve clung to his skin. 

He listened to the low-pitched buzz of the lights as their gleam pierced his eyelashes. 

Blurring his vision. 

‘I’m tired.’ 

Chapter 13: Good Cooking

Drop. Drop. Drop. 

The hushed plummeting of droplets of the bleeding faucet resonated in the cold porcelain of the sink. 

Crystalline trails drizzled down the descent of the slope, eventually plunging down the abyssal hole of the drain. 

Pale hands laid on each side of the white frigidness, fingers gripping the edges as the dim light faintly illuminated the faded scars that ruined the unflawed skin. 

Droplets clung to the dampened lashes as the whitened face glistened, the crescent shadows hovered under the grey, dreary eyes as the black strands of hair emphasized the hollowed cheeks. 

Waned cuts littered his body, blemishing and bruising, sharply contrasting the pale skin that harbored them as faint splotches of mauve kissed the white smoothness. 

The sweaty hoodie was tossed carelessly on the smooth tiles of the bathroom, leaving him in the embrace of the bitter cold of his drenched t-shirt, the soaked areas adhered to his skin with a viscid feeling. 

Suddenly, the muffled buzz of his phone sounded as his screen brightened with two notifications. 

Yoo Joonghyuk  

Would you like to come for diner?   

Naver 

You have new mail! 

He stared at the messages and slowly took his phone then typed, 

Yoo Joonghyuk 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: Would you like to come for diner? 

 

sure but i might have to leave early cuz i got smth to do later : You 

- 

He then opened his email, 

Subject: Constellations Entertainment Trainee Orientation Details & Schedule 

To: [email protected]  

From: [email protected]  

Date: Saturday, November 29th, 2008    

Dear Kim Dokja, 

Congratulations once again on successfully completing your initial skill assessment at Constellations Entertainment! 

We are pleased to invite you to the next step in your trainee journey — the orientation day. Please review the details below carefully: 

Orientation Day: Saturday, December 6th, 2008 
Reporting Time: 7:00 AM (Please arrive promptly) 
Location: Constellations Entertainment HQ   

–––––––, Seoul South Korea    

Contact Person: Wi Kyungsoon, Dance Trainer, Phone: +XX-X-XXX-XXXX 

Please bring: 

- Valid photo ID (school ID or passport) 

- Comfortable athletic wear and sneakers 

- Notebook and pen 

- Any necessary medication or personal items 

- Documents (Medical Records, School Records, Emergency Contact Sheet, Parental Consent Forms) 

Orientation Schedule 

7:00 AM – 7:30 AM: Check-in and ID verification 

7:30 AM – 8:15 AM: Health & safety briefing, emergency procedures 

8:15 AM – 9:00 AM: Company introduction and rules overview 

9:00 AM – 9:30 AM: Explanation of probation period and expectations 

9:30 AM – 10:00 AM: Paperwork completion (NDAs, contracts) 

10:00 AM – 12:00 PM: Facility tour and locker assignment 

Please note: 

- Training schedules will be coordinated to accommodate your school hours as much as possible. 

- Use of personal phones during training hours will be restricted to maintain focus. 

- Dormitory rooms will be assigned on orientation day; if commuting from home, please notify us in advance. 

- Punctuality and professionalism are highly expected. 

If you have any questions prior to orientation, please contact Wi Kyungsoon at +XX-X-XXX-XXXX or reply to this email. 

We look forward to meeting you and supporting your growth as a trainee! 

Warm regards, 

Scheduling Team 

Constellations Entertainment

[email protected] | +XX-X-XXX-XXXX   

Damp fingers harshly rubbed his forehead as he read the words. 

‘At least I don’t have to do another performance...’ he tilted his neck towards his shoulder, hearing the crack. 

‘Why is it always planned so early?’ he sighed as he leaned against the edge of the tub, the porcelain heightening the cold. 

With a small chime, another notification appeared on his screen. 

Yoo Joonghyuk 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: Do you want to join for lunch and dinner? 

 

really? u sure it wont disturb you or sum? :You 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: No. 

u better not regret it cuz im your vip guest :You 

alright when you want me to arrive          

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: You can come at any time. 

 

k i better not be harassed the moment the door opens :You 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: You won’t, Mia went for a sleepover at Shin Yoosung’s house with Lee Gilyoung. 

 

u sure they arent hiding sneakily in a bush near the apartment waiting to ambush me at any moment with scarves? :You 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: No. 

 

are u certain? :You 

i will be filing a restraining order against them if they ambush me 

Yoo Joonghyuk: ... 

 

i’ll be arriving at 12 :You 

- 

Dull, lifeless walls surrounded him, lonely potted plants occupied the gloomy corners as they lived a life of solitude. 

Soft thuds resounded as he walked on the granite flooring, polished swirling patterns covering the whole apartment flooring as it was divided in multiple squares. 

He quickly approached the familiar door, the silver knob glinting under the luminescent light, and with a swift movement, pressed on the black button that had a bell symbol labeled on it. 

He leaned against the wall as he waited, tapping his foot rhythmically on the hard floor. 

Abruptly, the door swung open. 

Then an unsmiling face peered out of the doorframe, piercing eyes staring at him. 

He gave a small smile, and a sheepish wave of hand. 

He blinked a couple of times and nervously backed further into the wall as the unnerving eyes burned onto him. 

Black locks were untidily tussled, a curled strand hovered above his thick eyebrows, but it didn’t deny his inordinate attractiveness. 

Weary eyes gazed at him, black irises exuded a sluggish feeling with a brooding nature.  

After a few seconds of silence and intense eye contact, he finally said,  

“Come in.” and with that, his head disappeared. 

Dokja stayed there for a few moments, dazed, before coming back to his senses and entered the apartment. 

The fragrant smell of food lingered in the air of the apartment, he felt the empty pit in his stomach deepen, sinking as his mouth watered. 

He slowly drew near the table, multiple plattered dishes covered the smooth surface of the marble table, steam steadily hovering above. 

“You’re clearly wasting your time, open a restaurant and you’ll get rich, easy money.” he commented while pulling the chair from under the table. 

Joonghyuk grunted in response placing the last dish of the table and taking a seat. 

Dokja lightly laughed and sat on the cushioned chair, picking up the wooden chopsticks. 

“It wouldn’t even be hard gathering clients, all you have to do is plaster your face as the restaurant logo then boom, a whole line waiting at opening day.” he paused, taking a bite out of the food and continued, 

“Even if the food was burnt, they would still eat it as if it were a masterpiece, so you don’t have to worry.” 

“They would gulp it up if you served them a plate of hot trash.” 

The expressionless face frowned as he ate but still listened to his rambling. 

“Anyways, this is delicious.” he praised, savoring the scrumptious flavors that melted in his mouth, 

“How did you get so good at cooking?” 

Joonghyuk glanced at him for a second before answering, 

“I was taught by a chef when I was younger.” he swallowed his food, 

 “Then got better as I cooked more and more for Mia.”  

“Mia is lucky to have an older brother like you.”  

He looked at him and questioned, 

“Why is that?” 

Dokja scoffed at that question and responded, 

“You don’t think so? You’re caring, you spoil her; giving her everything she needs.” he paused, 

“Not to mention, handsome and cooking for her every day.” he awkwardly coughed, 

“Anyways, I don’t know why you’re doubting yourself.” 

Joonghyuk stared at him and raised an eyebrow, 

“Is that what you think of me?” 

He faintly blushed, red dust blooming on the pale cheeks as he muttered, 

“Well... yeah.” 

The unsmiling boy glimpsed at him and gently nodded and continued eating. 

A quiet stillness shifted between the two as it melded with the clatters of the porcelain plates. 

The simmering smoke gradually faded, disappearing in the warm air of the room as the dishes that occupied the plates continuously vanished. 

Dokja sat silently as he clenched the chopsticks in his hand, slightly biting his inner cheek. 

He unconsciously twirled his chopsticks as he traced invisible circles on the porcelain plate, occasional screeches sounding. 

Joonghyuk furrowed his eyebrows at the sight and asked, 

“Is there something the matter?” 

Startled, the absentminded boy looked up and stumbled, 

“No-uh... nothing’s wrong just thinking.” 

“Thinking about what?” 

“... stuff.” 

“Like what?” 

Dokja turned his gaze towards his plate as he hesitantly questioned, 

“... why do you keep inviting me here?” 

The unsmiling boy stared at him, an unreadable gleam in his eye scintillated. 

He pursed his lips into a thin, eyes darting elsewhere and slowly opened asked, 

“Do you not want me to?” 

Dokja widened his eyes and waved a with dismissive hands then clarified, 

“No-it’s not that –– it’s just...” he trailed off looking at his expression and mumbled, 

“Forget it.” he exasperatedly sighed and stuffed his mouth with the remaining of his food. 

Joonghyuk peered at him, the dim glow of the overhanging lights illuminated the side of his face as the glint flickered. 

The grip on his chopsticks tightened as he lowered his eyes, then looked back up. 

His mouth slightly opened as if wanting to say something, but nothing came out. 

The stifling stillness returned, suffocating the room with a cluttering discomfort. 

Emptied plates piled on the table as they finished the last of the food, dirtied napkins and stained cutlery laid atop. 

The unsmiling boy quietly left his seat and carried the stacked plates with steady steps, approaching the kitchen sink. 

Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder. 

He carefully turned around with an inquisitive look and stared at the black-haired boy. 

Dokja avoided his gaze and reluctantly asked,  

“...Do you need help with cleaning the dishes?” 

They stood there for a couple of seconds, the question slowly drifting away into the smothering uneasiness. 

Then, Joonghyuk slowly nodded and gestured with his head to follow him. 

And with that, the faint gush of water echoed in the metal sink, hushed scratching muffled as rubber gloves squeaked against the wet porcelain. 

Reflective surfaces shone under the lights as they were handed to Dokja. 

Wiped dry with a black cloth, slightly damp as it mopped up the remaining droplets of water that stained the plate. 

And delicately placed on top of the accumulating pile inside the black cabinet, to be used another day. 

As the last plate was placed, he gently closed the wooden cabinet with a small clack and turned to face Yoo Joonghyuk. 

He nervously rubbed the smooth surface as his hands grasped the edges of the marble counter. 

And said, 

“I’m sorry.” 

Joonghyuk rapidly twirled to glance at him with furrowed brows and asked, 

“Why?” 

His voice faltered as he explained, 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with that question earlier...” 

Piercing eyes stared at him, flickering across his figure, wordlessly. 

He felt his t-shirt tightening as he pulled his collar while pulling down the hem of his clothing. 

Then, a low voice sounded, 

“Do you want to play video games with me?” 

“What?”  

He hesitantly repeated, 

“Do you want to play video games with me?” 

Dokja stared at him as a confused expression etched on his face. 

“...Do you want to watch me play video games?” 

“...” 

The black-haired boy tilted his head still befuddled, before reluctantly responding, 

“... sure?” 

- 

Darkness engulfed the space, crowding every corner, not a sliver of light was seen in the unlit room. 

Suddenly, the black door opened. 

And with a flick of a switch, the room was illuminated. 

He followed Joonghyuk onto the carpeted floor, observing his surroundings. 

To his right was a small, wooden bookcase filled with dull book spines, some leather-encased while others with cloth, atop of it was a large globe, encircled with a gilded crescent. 

Next to it was another bookshelf, except there wasn’t books. Numerous figurines cluttered the shelves, some were from videogames others from tele series, some were unpackaged others were kept in their boxes. 

Next to them were holographic displays of characters, covered in an iridescent film that shimmered under the light and disc cases. 

In a separate, smaller bookcase there were several helmets and packaged gaming equipment. 

Multiple posters plastered the walls, some had vibrant colors overwhelmed the walls while others had dreary colors that suppressed the liveliness. 

To his left was a fairly large, black couch covered with a fluffy, grey blanket, on both of its sides were light-grey bean bag chairs that slumped on the floor. 

Parallel to it was a mahogany desk with a sleek, black gaming PC with black headphones hanging on the screen, and a small perching lamp next to it, the round bulb peeking out. 

Small figurines surrounded the clean keyboard with a tiny fluff ball sitting in the corner, its gilt horn glimmering with the speckled sparkles. 

Joonghyuk leisurely approached his desk and sat on the red-lined, cushioned black gaming chair, leaning slightly backwards with his arms on the arm rests. 

He glanced at Dokja and said, 

“You can sit.” pointing at the comfortable couch behind him. 

He reluctantly plopped onto the seat, slowly sinking into the pulling comfort of the cushions. 

“You collect a lot.” he commented on the obvious. 

The unsmiling boy hummed in the acknowledgement, patiently waiting for his pc to open. 

“You seem to game often.” 

A grunt was offered in response as he opened his game library and said, 

“Pick a game.” 

Dokja curiously peered over his shoulder and scrutinized the collection of games that was presented in front of him. 

“What’s your favorite game?” 

“I don’t have one.” 

Seeing there wasn’t any preferences, he decided to continue to scan the catalog hoping he’ll find something that’ll pique his interest. 

After a few seconds of searching, he spotted a white cover. 

It had a red semi-circle and a black semi-circle fading into each other with a luminescent moon that hovered between them.  

A water ripple illustration stilled underneath with three black silhouettes that stood valiantly on top of an unstable mount of snow. 

 Each one had different types of weapons in their grasp, the one of the center had a serrated blade that dragged on the white flooring, tracing red letters on the snow that wrote “Incarnations Wrath”. 

“How about this one?” he pointed at the game’s cover. 

“Incarnations Wrath?”  

“Yup.”  

And with that, the game start screen loaded, and multiple characters appeared in a flurry of colors, flames, dust, lightning, magic were controlled as the characters displayed their skills. 

Then the title of the game smashed down, each letter in a bold black writing with a red outline as scorching flames shot out from the sides. 

“What’s this game about?” 

“It’s a MOBA game.” 

Dokja stared at him for a few seconds with a blank face before asking, 

“And... what’s that?” 

“Multiplayer online battle arena.” 

“...what?” 

“You’re grouped up in a team where everyone has different powers and face another team. The goal is to destroy the other team’s throne.” 

He nodded as he listened to his explanation, admiring the intricate designs of the characters and noticed a tall figure in the corner. 

“Oh, hey, that one looks like you!”  

A black-haired man stared ominously with a glowing golden eye into the camera, a faded scar blemished his tan face emphasizing the fierceness of his character.  

He had a sharp jawline, and a straight nose ridge accompanied with black monolid eyes and thick eyebrows. 

An extremely muscular body hid under a black leather coat and close-fitting shirt and pants as his legs branded black combat boots.  

Silver chains enveloped his arms and legs accentuating the toned muscles as he held a black blade. 

“The Regressor?” 

“If it’s the super muscular guy in the back with the black sword than yeah.” 

He leaned closer to the screen as he inspected more scrupulously. 

“Except, he’s tanner and a lot more muscular than you...oh! Also, his eyes, yours are wider.” 

Joonghyuk glanced at him as he placed his headphones on his head, leaving one side uncovered. 

“Do you want me to play this character?” 

He momentarily glimpsed at him before responding, 

“You can choose whatever you want.” 

The unsmiling boy grunted in reply and queued for a solo. 

- 

“Hey do you stream?” Dokja asked as he stared at the loading for the next round. 

“No.” 

He looked at him in surprise, not expecting his response and sighed, 

“That’s a shame, I think you would be a really good streamer.” 

“Why is that?” he raised an eyebrow at that remark. 

The black-haired boy flashed a small smile and explained, 

“Well, your playstyle is pretty enjoyable and the crisp clicks of the keyboard is relaxing, like white noise you listen to sleep.”  

“If you don’t want to be a cook you can always become a streamer, less work and it’s way more fun.” he paused, lightly laughing, 

“Also with your handsome face, I’m sure a lot of people would be crowding your stream, so viewers aren’t the least of your worries.” 

“You think so?” 

“Might not be the opinion of everyone, but I know that I would be watching your streams.” 

Joonghyuk turned to his screen and gazed at it for a few seconds, 

“It could be considered.” 

Dokja widened his eyes at his words, 

“Wait, you’ll actually do it?” 

“It seems... fun, and it wouldn’t hurt to try.” he glanced at him and questioned, 

“Why? Don’t you want me to do it?” 

He sluggishly scratched his neck with a dismissive wave of a hand, 

“No, it’s not that... it’s that I didn’t think you would actually put it into consideration.” 

“Is it that surprising?” 

He tilted his head, pondering for a moment then flatly answered, 

“Kinda.” 

A comfortable silence meandered between them as the clear clicks of the keyboard sounded and the muffled noise of slicing swords, the clinking of colliding chains, the boisterous noise of the eruptive explosions faintly resonated, creating a clamorous symphony. 

“Who is handsomer, the regressor or me?” a deep voice suddenly interrupted the melody as the words of victory appeared on the interface. 

“What?” a red bloom flushed his whitened cheeks as a distraught expression painted his face. 

“Who is handsome, the regressor or me?” he repeated, not an ounce of shame in his expression. 

His eyes nervously darted elsewhere as he avoided his unnerving stare and answered, his words muttered, 

“I’m not answering that...” 

As his gaze wondered somewhere else, the corners of the usually dull-faced boy curled upwards before dropping down as the round started. 

 

 

Chapter 14: Perfect Lover

Notes:

New chapter!!!!
(Also I fixed the texting format in last chapter and the date because I realized I misscaculated it😭 )

Saturday, November 29th, 2008 

1200 hours. Day 2 of investigation. 

“We are NOT to let this case go until it is solved!” a small fist slammed onto the metal table as it trembled from the brute force. 

“How are we supposed to solve it if we don’t have any leads!?” two hands bashed into the table as in disagreement with the other. 

“Exactly! Your supposed “prime suspect” knew nothing about the case!” another chimed in, refusing to pursue the case. 

“Guys you don’t understand, just because he doesn’t know anything doesn’t mean he isn’t linked to it!” Agent Squid Slayer reasoned, splaying out all the evidence on the table once more. 

“Maybe he isn’t a suspect at all, and just a victim like you of your Oppa’s weirdness!” Agent Beast Lord pointed a finger at her, while slapping her hand on the blurred picture. 

“He probably is! Because Hyung said himself he didn’t know why your Oppa kept inviting him to diner!” Agent Insect King said, pulling out the blurred picture from under the hand and stuffing it into Mia’s face. 

“Nonsense! Why would Oppa be acting so weirdly ever since he appeared then?!” she argued, pushing back the intruding image. 

Suddenly, a dramatic gasp escaped Shin Yoosung. 

She hastily searched in the folder, slid out the picture of the victim on the table and stabbed a finger in his forehead. 

“He’s in love!” 

Both detectives immediately whipped their heads to look at her with bewildered expressions. 

“Impossible! Oppa doesn’t fall in love.” Agent Squid Slayer denied the statement, jabbing a finger in the victim’s face and crossed her arms in a x shape. 

“Think about it!” Agent Beast Lord exclaimed as she displayed the blurry picture. 

“Maybe he keeps inviting that ahjussi to diner because he’s practicing his cooking skills on him to woo a girl he likes!”  

Agent Insect King tilted his head and questioned, 

“That could be possible, but Mia’s Oppa’s cooking skills are already excellent why would he need to practice?” lightly scratching his head. 

Before widening his eyes and abruptly shouting, 

“Because he’s insecure!” 

“No he’s not!” Yoo Mia dismissed the ridiculous excuse and yanked the picture away. 

“Yes he is!” Lee Gilyoung disputed her words, tugging the image back. 

“NO. HE’S. NOT.” she yelled, her tone stern. 

“YES. HE. IS.” he contradicted her phrase, mimicking her tone. 

“NO. HE’S-” 

“GUYS!” Yoosung intervened, not letting their bickering escalate any further. 

“Who cares if he’s insecure or not! What we must focus on is whether if he’s in love or not!” she pulled out another picture from the pile of evidence, 

“Look here, he keeps looking at the piano right?” she glanced at them and continued when they nodded in agreement, 

“Maybe it’s because he wants to practice to amaze the girl he wants to court!” 

“But wouldn’t he be practicing already?” Agent Insect King furrowed his brows before blurting out, 

“Because he’s insecure!”  

“No he’s-” before Mia could deny it, another voice cut her off, 

“Now that makes sense!” Agent Beast Lord clasped her hands together then added, 

“Oh! And he’s also reading to show that he’s intelligent! That he’s an intellectual!”  

“That’s possible! –– But why would he read a children’s book?” Gilyoung asked as he rhythmically tapped his fingers on the table and reluctantly said, 

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to read?”  

Agent Squid Slayer scowled, 

“Yes he does!” as her fingers gripped on the edge of the table, seething with anger. 

Yoosung ignored her denial and continued her chain of logic, 

“And he’s shopping for chocolate to give them to her at the right moment!” and deduced, 

“He’s definitely in love!”  

Agent Insect King vigorously nodded to that conclusion and added, 

“And we need to help him!”  

“What!?-” 

“Let’s go!” before she could react any further, she was tugged by the wrist out of secret location #3.  

Operation: Investigate Oppa.   

It’s time for the best, most hardworking, crime solving detective squad in Seoul –– the YooGil Company!   

Yoo Mia –– Agent Squid Slayer.   

Shin Yoosung –– Agent Beast Lord   

Lee Gilyoung –– Agent Insect King   

Biyoo –– Dokkaebi King   

Ever since crime tarnished the streets of Seoul, these four amazing agents emerged and used their masterful skills to protect the innocents and defeat evil.   

Without them, the world would be in chaos.   

- 

Saturday, November 29th, 2008   

1230 hours. Day 2 of investigation. 

“Stop pushing me!”  

“Shh.” a scarf was stuffed in his mouth as she shoved Agent Insect King. 

“We must be quiet.” Agent Squid Slayer chided as they hid inside the bushes. 

“Guys I don’t this is a good idea.” Agent Beast Lord whispered and jumped as she felt something tickle her, 

“I think there’s ants in this bush.” 

“Nonsense! You’re just scared.” Mia scoffed as she pulled out binoculars and poked them through the foliage. 

Yoosung swatted the flying pests away as she questioned,  

“Are you sure this is the place? There’s no one here.” 

“Of course it is! Oppa goes here every Saturday and Sunday to get groceries!” she said while surveyed the entrance of the grocery store. 

“But what if the girl isn’t going to the store today?” Gilyoung muttered as he observed the insect that crawled on the perched branch just in front of him. 

“Oppa wouldn’t go to the grocery store two times a week if he didn’t see the girl two times a week.” she argued as she added, 

“Plus, this is the only place Oppa goes so it’s either here or home.” 

She turned her gaze back to the entrance as she continued to survey the surroundings. 

“I don’t see anyone.” Yoosung mumbled as she tightened her grip on her binoculars. 

“Then keep looking for a pretty girl.”  

“I don’t see any pretty girls.” Agent Insect King said while petting the small insect. 

“Maybe because you’re only interested insects!” Mia spat, her gaze intensifying on the door. 

He whipped his head towards her, holding the creature in his hand and seethed, 

“Insects are better than people!”  

“Are you sure your Oppa likes pretty girls? Because all I see are old ladies.” Agent Beast Lord interjected as she watched an old granny struggling to push a cart. 

“Maybe he’s in love with an old granny?” Gilyoung theorized, watching the squirrel that escaped the store with a single berry in hand, 

“Or a squirrel.” 

“What? Oppa isn’t like that!” Agent Squid Slayer frowned at their conclusion. 

“Are you sure?” 

Suddenly, long, luscious white locks flashed in front of her vision. 

Mia’s eyes widened as an exhilarated gasp sounded, 

“THERE!” she excitedly exclaimed, 

“Pretty girl!!!” 

In front of them was a lithe figure of snow-like skin.  

Pristine white tresses cascaded down her shoulders as they scintillated under the dim sunlight of the afternoon.  

A sleek white coat was draped on her shoulders as a black cashmere turtleneck hugged her body, emphasizing her delicate form and resisting the slight cold. 

Thin, black leather gloves embraced her hands as she steadily pushed the cart of the old lady towards the parking lot, while a camera filmed her in the basket. 

“C’mon, let’s go!” Mia yelled as she dragged the detectives out of the bushes by their scarves. 

Small leaves clung to their black coats as tiny twigs hung in their hair. 

The cold breeze blustered through as they ran, binoculars in hands and an insect in the hand of some particular someone. 

Agent Squid Slayer desperately shouted, waving frantically her hands in the air as she approached the girl, 

“Hey! Girl!” 

After a few tiring minutes of running, they finally drew near the white-haired girl as she loaded groceries in the old lady’s car. 

She curiously turned towards them as she placed the last plastic bag, grabbing her phone for it to face her as she gave a gentle smile. 

“Hello, may I help you with something?” she asked with calm voice as she bid goodbye to the grandma. 

Mia stood there huffing in front of her for a few moments, gathering her breath before shoving her hand in her coat, 

“Do you know...” and pulling out a familiar picture. 

“This boy!”  

A boy of a dull expression and sharp features appeared in front of her, slightly scowling at the camera as black curls cascaded down the sides of his face.    

The white-haired girl scrutinized the picture for a couple of seconds, tilting her head as she answered, 

“I think I’ve seen him a few times before, but I don’t know him.” she lightly paused before curiously questioning, 

“Why are you asking?” 

“Because-ow!”  

Before Agent Insect King could say it he was poked in the side and cut off, 

“Because we’re searching for my Oppa’s crush!” 

“...”  

She stared at them a few seconds with a sheepish smile and asked, 

“And how is that going?”  

“You’re-” a hand was slapped onto his mouth. 

“You’re the first person we’ve found for the moment.”  

“Really?” she raised her eyebrows with an inquisitive look. 

“Yup.” They all nodded. 

“And why are you searching for your Oppa’s crush?” 

“Because he has been acting weirdly recently and we think it’s because there’s a pretty girl that’s been clustering his thoughts.” 

She glanced at her phone before questioning, 

“And what are you going to do when you find his crush?” 

A sly smirk branded her face as Agent Squid Slayer exclaimed, 

“Make her fall in love with him so he doesn’t act strangely anymore!” resting her hands on the side of her hips. 

The white-haired girl lightly laughed and praised, 

“That’s very nice of you guys.” 

She calmly adjusted her collar and asked in a gentle tone, 

“So, you guys think I’m his crush?” 

The agents all enthusiastically nodded with hopeful eyes. 

“What makes you guys think that?” 

“Because you’re really pretty!” Agent Beast Lord eagerly responded. 

“Aw! You guys are so cute!” she chirped and said with an awkward expression, 

“But I don’t think I would be his crush.” 

Agent Insect King pouted and disputed, 

“But it’s either you, the grannies or that squirrel.” he pointed at the juice covered squirrel that climbed the tree. 

“Exactly! And my Oppa isn’t like that!” Mia exclaimed, shaking her head with a resolute expression. 

Then curiously glimpsed at the phone the leather glove held, 

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh, I’m streaming right now.” 

Agent Squid Slayer stared at the camera for a few seconds before asking, 

“Can I show your stream something?” 

The white-haired girl blinked a couple times confused but still complied to her demand, 

“Of course, here.” she passed the phone to her. 

Mia hastily grabbed the device, making it face her and shoved a familiar photo into it, 

“Hey! Do you see this boy?” she shouted as she watched the scrolling messages in the bottom of the screen. 

“If you’ve ever seen him staring at you weirdly, that means he possibly has a crush on you!” Yoosung chimed, leaning her head on the agent’s shoulder. 

“Yup! And that means we’ll help you fall in love with him!” Gilyoung added, pushing the picture out of the way to show his face. 

“Exactly! Because Oppa is the best!” Mia approvingly nodded as she handed the camera to Agent Beast Lord to hold it and record her. 

“And we’ll prove it to you!” Agent Insect King interjected, reinforcing her words. 

Agent Squid Slayer hurriedly searched in her folder while muttering to the brown-haired boy, 

“Go hold Oppa’s picture in front of the camera for them to see!” 

He rapidly nodded and took the image of the scowling boy in front of the stream while asking Yoosung, 

“Can they see it?” 

“Yup!” she responded while focusing on the screen, perfectly placing the black-haired girl in the center of the viewers eyes. 

“Alright!” she paused and pulled out a picture, 

“First of all, my Oppa is really handsome! If you aren’t blind, you can see it!” she shamelessly praised as she pointed towards Agent insect King who held the photo. 

“Second of all, my Oppa has excellent cooking skills!” she flashed a blurry picture, 

“Even you can’t see clearly, you can definitely tell that the food is good.” 

With a swift movement, Mia removed the picture and displayed a second one, 

“Third of all, he plays the piano! But he’s shy so he doesn’t like to do it often.” she reasoned and whipped out another one, 

“Fourth of all, he’s an intellectual! He reads books!”  

“He reads children books because there’s more to interpret!” Agent Insect King chimed in, tilting his head to the side to make his words clear. 

“Exactly!” the black-haired girl noddingly approved and showed the next picture, 

“Fifth of all, he buys sweets! He buys big bags of chocolate!” she presented an image of a large, red bag, filled with silver wrappings. 

“But he doesn’t know what’s good chocolate, so you’ll have to tell him.” Agent Squid Slayer disappointedly shook her head and clasped her hands together, 

“In conclusion! My brother is the perfect lover, and you should date him if he has a crush on you!” 

Agent Beast Lord quickly leaned into the camera and said, 

“If you want to meet him, go to this grocery store every Saturday and Sunday, and you’ll meet him!”  

And with that, the short-haired girl politely handed the camera back to the girl and ran with the other agents. 

Their clamorous steps resonated against the pavement floor of the parking lot as the breeze raced against them, their scarves howling in the wind. 

The white-haired girl was left speechless as she held her phone. 

With a sheepish smile, she glanced at her screen and gently laughed,  

“Well, you heard them, if you are his crush go to this grocery store every Saturday and Sunday to meet him.” and casually continued what she was saying earlier, 

“Anyways for the perfect face mask paste mix you need to buy...” 

- 

Trending topics #poisonbeautyboy 

Into you ♥ @swiftmagnifience 

HOLYYYY DID Y’ALL SEE THAT SCRUMPTIOUS BOY ON @poisonbeauty STREAM TODAY????? 

CUZ HE IS FINE AS HELLL 

[Picture] [Picture] 

1:08 PM • Nov 29, 2008 

poison’s cutie @poisonbeautystoeseparators 

Replying to @swiftmagnifience   

YESSS I WAS LIKE DAMNNN HE CUTEE!!! 

LITERALLY LICKING THE SCREEN AS I SAW HIM 

miniature speckles of dirt @gravediggerpassion 

Replying to @swiftmagnifience     

Am I the only one who’s wondering about his name??? (also his age :p) 

se0lhwas @snowsnowyformypoison 

Replying to @gravediggerpassion   

prob not that old because he does look young im thinking like 16 or 18, somewhere near that 

but for his name idk 

poison me pls @lswlefthand 

Replying to @swiftmagnifience 

I AM DEFINITELY RUSHING TO THAT STORE TOMORROW 

I CANNOT MISS THAT DROP DEAD GORGEOUS FACE 

kansas crisis @mistaffectionatetryst 

Replying to @swiftmagnifience   

IM RUSHING WITH YOU GIRL BECAUSE THAT BOY IS FINEEEE 

poison beauty’s 1864th hair strand @beauticanspoisonzzz 

Replying to @swiftmagnifience     

that grocery store is gonna make hella money lol 

Chapter 15: Orientation Day

The soft thuds of his shoes resonated in the empty stairwell, slowly ascending the concrete steps as one hand grasped the ramp, the paint peeling off. 

The dim light illuminated the white walls, small bumps speckled them as the shiny paint reflected the muted gleam. 

A low-pitch buzz hummed, melding with his continuous steps as he made his way up. 

A dull soreness writhed in his chest, pulsating with a draining unease, shriveling and swelling as it clustered, vacating every space in his lungs. 

A burdensome throe dragged his head, the weight becoming unbearable as his fingers spasmodically scratched against the yellow paper of the folder, the smooth surface tugging his nails. 

Weary eyes softly blinked as the long eyelashes clung together, blurring his vision. 

A blackening haze hovered over his head, his steps stuttered as he reached the floor, three doors were presented in front of him, silver, rusted numbers stuck to the doors, some tilting while others had only their shadow. 

He approached with steady steps, the swirling pattern of wood surfaced under the unfurled white paint as streaks raked at the bottom of the door, chipping away at the wood with punctured dents. 

As the darkening mist surged, a silent swallow sounded as he reluctantly raised his hand towards the doorbell, fingers curling as the nails lightly scraped the pale skin. 

With a faint press, a small chime resounded in the isolated stairwell. 

After a few moments, 

The muffled clicks of the lock echoed with the clink of a chain as a sliver of the door opened, the harsh light protruded the dim space. 

The acrid smell of cigarette smoke billowed as it escaped the apartment. 

Eyes glared at him, laced with a loathing abhor, disgust simmered and churned in their gaze, scorching, as a prick seared his skin. 

They were familiar. 

“What do you want.” she spat, hostility seethed through her words, her breath reeking. 

“... I have some forms I need you to sign.” he hesitantly said as he showed the yellow folder in his grasp. 

She took a slow drag before puffing it out with a question, the grey fume bulging, 

“For what?” her eyes flicked to the folder for a second before scowling back to him.  

He stared down, avoiding her gaze, the grime on his tattered shoes whirred, each speck hissing,  

“Entertainment company.” he muttered. 

A rasping cough sounded, 

“Entertainment company!?” she cackled, her jeering laughs resounding as they pierced his head, a sting oscillating as the blackening haze thrummed, his vision befogging. 

“What they’re going to make a joke off your face?” she inhaled as she continued to glare at him. 

“No.” 

The smoke grew more pungent as it surrounded him. 

“Then what is it then?” a frown twisted her face as her tone grew irritated. 

He looked at her. 

“They want me to become a trainee.” 

She stared at him for a few seconds. 

Laughter shattered the stifling stillness as she knocked her head on the door, the still lit cigarette trembling between her fingers,  

“You? A trainee? Don’t make me laugh.” her words turned solemn as her eyes grew aggravated, her gaze scalding as an itch flickered on his skin. 

“Get the fuck out if you’re only here to say nonsense.” 

A palpitating hum murmured, his vision obscuring momentarily as his nails scratched the folder, crescent dents slowly sinking. 

“I just need you to sign the forms.” 

She looked at him for a few more seconds, huffing bitter fumes, exasperation blatantly painted on her face as she aggressively removed the chain with a scoff and opened the door with a hand that stuck out. 

“Give me the papers and I’ll sign them.” she paused, threatening,  

“Don’t come in or I’ll shred these papers and light the residues.” 

He handed the documents and widened his eyes as they were ripped from his grasp. 

The hushed steps of slippers sounded against the wooden floor as she left to sign them. 

An aching sore billowed in his chest, melding with the blistering haze that dissolved in his flesh, a prickling sensation drifting across his skin as flickers erupted. 

The time seemed to stretch. 

The minutes ticked as dull swells seeped, raking his pale skin as his foot repeatedly tapped against the cement flooring, the loosened laces bouncing with the rhythm. 

Light steps returned. 

Abruptly the yellow folder was shoved into his face as she spat, 

“We’re selling your apartment once you move in the dorms.” she paused and snarled, 

“Don’t fucking come here again crying and whining because you got kicked out of this bullshit, we’re not paying for you again.” 

And with that, the door slammed with a deafening thud, the reverberations ricocheting off the walls as the low-pitch buzz persisted. 

- 

“This feels stressful.” Yoo Sangah whispered in his ear as she commented, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag. 

“Less stressful than the evaluations at least.” Kim Dokja replied as he observed the people waiting in line, some fixated on their phones while others chatting and introducing themselves with others in line. 

“There’s less people here than I would’ve imagined.” she nervously tugged the collar of her jacket. 

“I agree, there’s only about...” he narrowed his eyes as he inwardly counted, 

“Twenty people here, I thought it would in the fifties.” he agreed with her thought as he glanced at the time on his phone. 

“How long is this going to take...” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. 

“About thirty minutes, that’s what they said in the schedule.” she answered with a gentle smile. 

“Well, that’s not too-” before he could finish, an enthusiastic voice cut him off, 

“Hello!” two black-haired girls approached Yoo Sangah with lively smiles as they kept their distance from him. 

Purposely... avoiding? 

The one who spoke had long, hair layers that descended her shoulders as her bangs swerved on the sides, one side clipped with star barrettes. 

When she smiled small dimples appeared and pearly teeth blinded him as her short lashes fluttered. 

She wore a light pink camisole with a white jacket that hung from her shoulders. 

The one next to her had black locks that curled at the end, framing her oval face as side swept bangs swirled on her forehead. 

She had wide, double-lidded eyes and long lashes with an upturned nose and pale skin that adorned a sage green hoodie with painted lilies on the backside. 

She showed a small, timid smile with pursed lips. 

The first girl whipped out her hand towards Yoo Sangah with a friendly look and introduced herself, 

“You look so pretty! My name is Rang Young! This is Seol Jung.” she pointed to her friend who stood quietly next to her. 

Rang Young folded one hand behind her back and tilted her head curiously, 

“What’s your name?”  

The brown-haired girl lightly shook her awaiting hand with a soft smile as she responded, 

“Thank you. My name is Yoo Sangah, you are very pretty too.”  

She glanced at the other girl and cordially waved at her. 

Seol Jung widened her eyes at her action, not expecting the warm greeting, but returned it with a hesitant wave and nod. 

Then the enthusiastic girl glimpsed at Dokja for a moment, her excitation dimming down and asked, 

“What’s your name?” 

He looked at her for a few seconds and before responding, flashing a sheepish smile, 

“My name is Kim Dokja, nice to meet you.” 

Rang Young lightly stared at him and replied with a formal tone, 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

She then turned towards Yoo Sangah an eager smile, grasping her hand, 

“Do you want to come with us to introduce ourselves to other people?” 

Dokja internally frowned at her words as she eagerly tugged her hand forward, not waiting for her response. 

The brown-haired girl showed an apologetic look, removing her hand before gently declining, 

“No, sorry, I prefer to stay with my friend.” 

At that reply, an awkwardness drifted between them. 

The black-haired narrowed her eyes at those words and bluntly asked, 

“Are you guys dating?” 

“What?” 

Her lively look returned as she giggled, 

“There’s no shame in admitting it, I swear I won’t tell the staff.” she gestured a zipping motion on her mouth. 

“No, we’re not dating.” Dokja responded, uneasy from her sudden change. 

“We came here together because we’re high school friends.” Sangah added with a dismissive wave as discomfort crept onto her. 

“Are you sure?” she questioned with an unnerving gaze, leaning her head towards the brown-haired girl. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” she slightly backed away, struggling to keep a smile and politely said, 

“I’m truly sorry I cannot join you guys.” 

The corners of the girl’s mouth twitched as her hands clenched, 

“If you’re so sorry then we don’t you just join us?” 

The awkward silence returned as the girl sharply stared at her, her gaze gradually becoming daunting. 

Suddenly, before the situation could worsen, another voice intervened, 

“Young-ah, uh-... why don’t we go over there and leave them alone?” Seol Jung pointed towards the entrance as a new person entered the lobby. 

A subtle glare was thrown at them as Rang Young quickly switched up, 

“Alright! Let’s go!” Her enthusiastic tone returned as she tugged the quiet girl forward towards the newcomer. 

And with that they rapidly left to introduce themselves, their steps echoing in the crowded lobby. 

Both of them exchanged glances before Yoo Sangah remarked, 

“That was an... interesting encounter.” watching them bother the new person. 

“Very interesting...” he agreed and paused, 

“Do you think there’ll be a lot of people like her?” 

“Hopefully not.” she responded, gently tucking her hair behind her ear as she glimpsed at the counter, 

“Oh, hey, it’s almost our turn.” 

- 

Their steps echoed as the trainees followed the staff member, trudging along on the polished tiles of the floor as the luminescent lights illuminated their path. 

The sound of muffled music and hushed steps resonated behind closed doors while some of the encouraging or scolding shouts of the trainers sounded, the solemn expressions of trainees were seen through the glass windows. 

They were then led to the stairs, the marble, sleek steps spiraled downwards as it led towards the lower floors, a black ramp outlined the edges with spotless glass panels. 

A couple of not-so-discreet whispers were said in cupped hands as they praised the minimalistic vibe or scorned at the endless steps. 

After a few moments of descending, they finally arrived at a small auditorium. 

Bright lights lit the room as the trainees silently entered the room. Black plastic chairs lined in three rows and eight columns, each meticulously placed. 

In front was a large table where multiple people sat with dull expressions, next to it was a large projector screen with a slender figure besides it, standing on a podium. 

Long, luscious brown hair cascaded down her body as braids crowned her head with a golden headband, light green painted her eyes as they gleamed with affability. 

She wore a black silk blouse with gilt buttons and thin, layered golden chains hung daintily, embellishing her olive-skinned neck. 

Light taupe sailor pants adorned her lower half with a caramel brown scarf that wrapped around her waist, intricate flower patterns staining the chiffon. 

Dokja calmly sat as the staff motioned them, and ended up in the second row, somewhere in the middle, the view in front wasn’t obscured. 

Seeing everyone had taken a seat, the beautiful woman finally started speaking with a friendly tone,  

“Welcome to Constellations Entertainment, 

From today, you are trainees under this agency. This means that everything you do inside and outside these walls –– will represent us.” she warmly greeted before her tone turned serious, 

“You have all been chosen because you showed potential, but potential is not enough here. Our standards are high, and many of you will not remain with us unless you meet those standards consistently.” she descended the podium and paced in the room, scrutinizing eyes sweeping across all the trainees, 

“Training will be demanding. Your schedules will be strict. You will be evaluated regularly, and those evaluations will determine your future here. Understand that nothing is guaranteed –– not even your continued status as a trainee.” she lightly paused with a small smile, 

“There are rules you must always follow: respect your seniors and staff, maintain confidentiality, be punctual, and dedicate yourself fully to practice. If you cannot follow these rules, you will be dismissed.” a faint frown formed on her face with a glint of sadness in her eyes, 

“Some of you have left your homes, your schools, and your families for this opportunity. Use that sacrifice as motivation. From this moment forward, your focus should be on improving every single day.” she clasped her hands, her golden bracelets clinking with the movement, 

“Remember this is not just about talent. It is about attitude, discipline, and your ability to endure. If you’re ready to give everything, welcome to Constellations Entertainment. If not, this is the time to reconsider.” 

And with that, her speech was finished. 

She casually tossed her locks behind her and spoke again with a calm smile, 

“My name is Persephone, the head trainee manager.” she politely introduced herself and continued, 

“I oversee all trainee-related matters, including your schedules, evaluations, and dorm life. If you have issues, they must come to me through the proper process. From today on, I will be monitoring your progress.” 

She gently nodded and gestured to the side. 

Beside her was a familiar person in an upright posture, an expressionless face with luminous, azure locks, neatly tied with a signature red ribbon. 

He wore a high collar, silver-lined, black vest with a satin red sash around his waist, underneath was a white, wide sleeve button up. 

He bluntly spoke, 

“My name is Kyrgios Rodgraim, Mr. Rodgraim to you. I am head vocal coach, which means my duty is to guide your singing training, from the basics of breath control to advanced techniques like belting and harmonizing.” he paused and concluded, 

“I expect dedication and discipline, and I’m here to help you improve every step of the way.” 

He then glanced at the person beside him. 

It was the same man that was at his entrance evaluator, he rested his elbows on the table and cupped his face, his blonde goatee hanging. Silver string earrings scintillated as he was dressed in a light blue scarf with an oyster yellow blazer, underneath a white silk shirt. 

He wore slightly darker pants with a silver belt that shimmered under the light. 

“Hello, I’m Tan Chin-Hae from the vocal team, but please refer me as Mr. Tan. My focus is on pitch accuracy, harmonization, and overall ear training. You’ll work with me to strengthen your ability to sing in tune, blend with others, and maintain stability under pressure.” he added, 

“I expect you to listen carefully, practice daily, and come prepared to improve each session.” 

He nodded to the following person. 

The next trainer was a laidback woman, arm resting on her chair as she leaned to the side. Short wisteria colored hair hovered just above her shoulders, faded black streaks stained her hair as white roots surfaced. 

She had large, angled dark brown eyes with a tiny, black heart under her right eye and black micro bangs with white streaks. 

She adorned a black varsity jacket with dark emerald green lettering outlined with white as several pins attached themselves. 

“The name’s Ryeo Gi, formally Ms. Ryeo, rap instructor of Constellations Entertainment. If it isn’t obvious, my job is to help you develop clear diction, stable rhythm, and control over your delivery.” 

“If you’re new to rap, that’s fine, but you’ll need to put in extra practice. I assume for all of you to treat rap lessons with the same seriousness as vocals or dance.” 

She glanced at the succeeding person, 

Besides her sat a man of platinum blonde hair, slight curls unfurling as a dark red headband encircled his head with gilt embellishments in the middle. 

He had sharp features with piercing yellow eyes and a well-built body as he wore a white sleeveless shirt with golden patterns embedded in the silk and white, loose-fitting pants. 

He introduced himself, 

“I’m Mr. Sun, known as Sun Wukong, head of the dance apartment, I teach you choreography, help develop your stage presence, and ensure your movements are precise and confident.” 

“Training will be intense, but with effort, you’ll see progress. I’m looking forward to working with each of you.” 

The final instructor spoke, it was the red-haired lady that evaluated him with the buzz cut man. 

Her lush red hair was pinned in a bun with a black jade pin as white pearls wrapped in gilt chains dangled and golden hoops earrings adorned her ears with white pearls complimenting the small pearl necklace she wore. 

A satin, dark blue shirt hung from her shoulders with a clean cut as she wore flowy, layered white pants and a pearl belt outlined with golden chains. 

“Hello! My name is Wi Kyungsoon, you can call me Mrs. Wi. I am from the dance department, and I specialize in technique, which means my role is to make sure your foundation, posture, balance, and body control is strong enough to handle complex choreography.” 

“Our sessions will be physically demanding, and I expect full focus and respect for the training process.” 

And with that, all the instructors introduced themselves, the head manager clapped her hands together to gather the room’s attention and said her final piece, 

“These staff members will be your first points of contact as you begin training. We expect discipline, punctuality, and respect. If you fail to meet our standards, you risk dismissal. Are there any questions before we continue?” 

A suffocating silence surfaced in the room as no one spoke or budged. 

Persephone gave a sharp nod and continued, 

“Very well, let’s proceed!” 

After those words she quickly left the room as another person replaced her presence and started introducing the company’s history.  

- 

The air was rigid with stillness as the trainees sat quietly in their seats, hands folded, posture upright and eyes steadied on the screen while some started to doze off after the long rant of restrictions and seniority rules. 

Suddenly, the screen flashed with a new slide titling “Logistics and Q&A”. 

A junior staff member stood timidly on the side as he gripped the clipboard in hand, while the head manager returned from wherever she went to and stepped back on the podium that in front of the audience. 

She started speaking again with a friendly tone,  

“You will now receive your trainee ID cards, practice schedules for the next week, dorm assignments, and locker access codes. When your name is called, come to the front, quietly receive your packet, and return to your seat. No talking.” 

One by one, each trainee walked in front, receiving their envelopes, nervously fumbling with the seal and glancing at the several papers of information that was stuffed inside. 

Seeing everyone received their packets, Persephone continued, 

“These documents include your training blocks, mealtimes, dorm curfews, and contact numbers for trainee support staff. Your trainee ID must be worn when inside the building. Practice rooms must be booked at least 24 hours in advance through the internal system.” 

The junior staff member looked up and added while noting something on his clipboard, 

“If you have a phone, they are not to be used during practice hours. For foreign trainees, language classes will begin next Monday.” he paused and lightly glanced at the trainees,  

“If you’re unsure about anything, please raise your hand now.” 

The rigidness of the air returned as no one spoke, everyone glimpsed at their surroundings, curious of who would ask a question. 

Unexpectedly, a reluctant hand finally rose, it was a boy in the third row, his voice trembled as he questioned, 

“If we’re sick… do, we go to the company nurse directly or tell the dorm manager first?” 

“You must notify your floor supervisor in the dorm, then we’ll send you for medical checkup if necessary. Do not skip training without reporting; you’ll receive a warning.” the head manager answered then swept her eyes across the room for more raised hands. 

A girl lifted her hand in the air, less timid than the previous one, 

“What if we want to stay late in the practice room before evaluations?” 

“You may request an extension, if granted, you’ll be supervised. But curfew is still in effect unless an exception is made by management.” she stopped, her tone stern,  

“Never remain alone in a studio without approval.” 

A long moment of silence stilled in the room; no other movement was made. 

“No further questions?” the brown-haired woman asked with an arched brow. 

Abruptly, another hand raised as a familiar voice spoke, 

“If we suspect of two trainees dating, do we report or wait until we have actual evidence?” the black-haired girl asked, with a lively smile as dimples dented her cheeks. 

The air in the room tightened, a few curious heads whip towards the questioner while some uncomfortably shifted in their seats. 

The staff exchanged a few glances before the head manager answered, calm but direct, 

“If you witness behavior that clearly violates company rules, including romantic involvement, you are expected to report it.” she momentarily paused, 

“However, do not spread rumors. If you only suspect something, do not gossip or accuse without cause.”  

“If you see repeated behavior that concerns you, for example: late-night meetings, physical contact, or anything inappropriate. Report it to trainee management privately, we will investigate.” 

The staff member on the side added, 

“False reports made of jealousy or personal conflict will not be tolerated but ignoring clear violations is also unacceptable, your focus should be on training. If something distracts from that, speak up through the proper channels.” 

“Any other questions?”  

After a few moments, Persephone clasped her hands together and exclaimed, 

“Alright, let’s explore the dorms!” 

- 

The hum of the night murmured as the waning moonlight pierced through his window and cast a faint glow on the numerous boxes that stacked atop each other. Half-finished assignments were strewn across the wooden floor as a pencil with broken lead laid peacefully. 

Though he emptied the apartment, it didn’t really change. 

The hushed thuds sounded as his foot repeatedly thumped against the steel bedframe, the numb feeling sprouting in his legs while his back ached against the stiff mattress. 

His head tilted uncomfortably backwards as he gazed at his schedule, a dull throe pulsating in the back of his head. 

Name: Kim Dokja 

School: Hwangmok High School 

Grade: Year 2 (Junior) 

Status: Part-time trainee 

Training focus 

- Vocal: Advance (A-) 

- Dance: Intermediate (B-) 

- Rap: N/A 

- Language: Exempt (South Korean Citizen) 

- Fitness: Flagged (low stamina, nutritional deficiencies, weight concerns)  

- Training Days: Monday – Saturday (Evenings only + Full Saturday) 

Mon: 07:30-16:00 -- Hwangmok High School | Academic Schedule 

17:30-18:15 – Breath Control & Light Conditioning | Rehab Room | Coach Wang – Low-impact cardio & breathing 

18:30-19:30 – Vocal A – Technique & Emotion | Vocal Studio 1 | Mr. Rodgraim – Focus on breath support 

Tue: 07:30-16:00 -- Hwangmok High School | Academic Schedule   

17:30–19:00 - Dance B – Musicality & Expression | Dance Studio 2 | Ms. Wi – Low-impact, focused choreography 

Wed: 07:30-16:00 -- Hwangmok High School | Academic Schedule   

17:30–18:15 - Nutrition Counseling & Health Check | Nutrition Office | Dietitian check-in & personalized guidance  

18:30–19:30 - Vocal A – Harmony & Stage Presence | Vocal Studio 1 | Mr. Tan 

Thu: 07:30-16:00 -- Hwangmok High School | Academic Schedule 

17:30–18:00 - Physical Therapy & Rehab Exercises | Rehab Room | Therapist assigned 

18:15–19:15 - Vocal A – Breath & Support Techniques | Vocal Studio 1 | Mr. Rodgraim 

Fri: 07:30-16:00 -- Hwangmok High School | Academic Schedule   

17:30–18:30 - Intro to Rap & Flow | Training Room 5 | Ms. Ryeo – basic rhythm, breath control, confidence-building 

18:30–19:15 - Dance B – Musicality & Freestyle | Dance Studio 2 | Mr. Sun - lighter routine, groove focus 

Sat: 09:00–11:00 - Vocal A – Regular Practice & Coaching | Vocal Studio 1 | Light session with focus on health management 

11:15–12:15 - Recovery & Light Stretching | Wellness Center | Meditation, breathing exercises 

13:00–14:30 - Dance B – Stage Practice with Rest Breaks | Dance Studio 2 | Focus on movement quality, frequent rests 

Sun: Rest & Homework | Dorm / Home | Essential recovery day | 

Notes:  

-Health monitoring & nutrition remain a top priority 

-Session designed to maintain skill without overtaxing physical health 

-Additional rest & recovery time included to build stamina 

“They really weren’t kidding when they said the training was intense...” Dokja muttered as he read the notes, scoffing at them, 

“Is my health really of concern?” 

He sighed as he sluggishly turned to his side, leaning on his arm as he reached for his phone. 

With a light tap, his screen illuminated, and fifteen notifications were displayed on his screen. 

Yoo Joonghyuk • 15 minutes ago 

Are you there? 

Yoo Joonghyuk • 1 hour ago 

I have some leftovers for you if you want them. 

Yoo Joonghyuk • 2 hours ago 

Hello? 

See more 

A small laugh escaped him as he read the messages, and he typed 

Yoo Joonghyuk 

Yoo Joonghyuk: Are you there? 

 

sorry i didnt respond earlier i was at orientation and forgot to tell you :You 

He momentarily dropped his phone on the rigid mattress, interlacing his fingers and stretching his arms before his screen brightened up with another notification. 

Yoo Joonghyuk 

Yoo Joonghyuk: How did it go? 

 

it went alright my roommates are fine but met some weird people the morning :You 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: What happened? 

 

some girls approached me and Yoo Sangah at first they seemed nice but one of them did a 360 in their behavior towards me compared to Yoo Sangah  

then she wanted to drag Yoo Sangah away somewhere but she declined saying she wanted to stay with me 

and then she randomly asked if we were dating which ofc i said no 

after while at the q&a she asked what do we do if we suspect people dating :You 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk: Do you know this girl? 

 

not at all

He briefly hesitated before he asked, 

hey wanna call? :You 

A slight frown formed on his face as no one replied.

Suddenly, before he went to check his news, his ringtone chimed as a notification flashed, “Yoo Joonghyuk calling”. 

A soft smile replaced the furrowed brows as he pressed on accept. 

“Hello?” a deep voice sounded as muffled noise rumbled in the background. 

 

“Hi.” he replied, turning on his back as he started to feel his arm getting numb. 

“How are you doing?” he asked. 

“Fine.” he bluntly responded as the noises grew louder. 

 

“What’s happening behind you?” he worriedly questioned as the unpleasant sounds increased. 

 

“Mia is watching the new episode of Dokkaebi King while playing sword fight with Lee Gilyoung.” the exasperation in his tone was evident. 

 

He lightly chuckled and joked, 

“At least they’re not kidnapping people.” 

“...” 

“Wait-they actually kidnapped someone?” 

 

“No.” 

“Then what is it?” 

 

“...” 

Hushed steps echoed as the noise faded, the faint whir of the fan hummed with a creak of a door as he finally responded, 

“... they hijacked a livestream.” 

 

“... what?” 

“Are you actually serious?” 

“...” 

“Ppft-” he faintly spat out the air he inhaled and started laughing boisterously, a wide grin plastered on his face as his chest heaved.  

His cheeks aching from the continuous cackles as he started to lose breath. 

His laughter slightly calmed down as he asked curiously, 

“What did they even do during the livestream?” 

“...” 

 

“What? Is it that bad?” 

“... they advertised me as the perfect lover.” 

 

“...” muffled snickers sounded from his side as a hand covered his mouth, snorts slipping through the gaps of his fingers as laughter sputtered. 

 

“Kim Dokja.” 

“You-... you.” despite his efforts to suppress his cackles, he bursted out giggling, pressing his phone against his chest. 

“Kim Dokja.” 

He raised a dangling leg and kicked it against the bedframe only to curse at the throe of pain that pulsated in his foot, 

“F-mph!”  

“...?” 

 

He groaned as he held his foot, massaging the back and he said, 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just hit my foot.” he paused before exclaiming, 

“Wait, wait, wait! Are you that grocery store guy the girls at my school kept talking about?” 

“...” 

“...yes” 

 

The laughter intensified while a dull sore surfaced on his face, his cheeks stiff as he let out the last of his giggles, gasping for air before saying, 

“At least you don’t need to build a fanbase for your stream anymore.” 

“You already got people drooling over you.” 

 

“...” 

“Goodnight Kim Dokja.” 

 

“Wait! I’m kidding-” 

 

And with that, the call was cut off. 

He dropped the phone on his mattress as he wiped the tears that emerged and rubbed the throb in his foot. 

Suddenly the familiar chime of the phone rang again, with the screen displaying “Yoo Joonghyuk calling.” 

A gentle smile graced his face as he pressed on answer again. 

Chapter 16: Pickle Juice Implants

A soft exhale escaped him as he laid on the bed. 

It had an... unusual feeling. The mattress was plush and soft unlike the one in his apartment, a wooden frame supported it, so it wouldn’t creak as often. 

To be honest, Dokja thought he would be uncomfortable moving into a new place, but it wasn’t so bad.  

His roommates were alright, though he didn’t interact a lot with them. 

The dorm was way more larger than his own apartment with three bedrooms for the other trainees of the dorm, a small kitchen and a shared bathroom, there was even a living room (not that big though). 

He had his own desk in the bedroom and there were installed drawers on the bottom of his bed with hangers on the side. 

Except he didn’t have a lot of clothing, so there wasn’t much use. 

But it was nice. 

There wasn’t much to unpack, only a few toiletries and clothing, maybe some assignments and books but that was all. 

He was the last to arrive, so all his other roommates were already exploring the dorm and the facilities, but he couldn’t care less. 

He was tired, yet truthfully, he was always tired. 

Maybe he could get a little bit of sleep here until the staff tells them to attend another long, exhausting- 

“Hey! Kim Dokja, right?” 

At those words, he sluggishly pulled himself up and glanced at the door. 

It was one of his roommates... Jin Sangwook or something. 

“Our dorm leader planned a trainee introduction so everyone could get to know each other, you want to join?” 

“...” 

So much for needed sleep... 

- 

“Alright! Is everyone here?” the dorm leader asked, clasping his hands together and sweeping his eyes across the people in front of him. 

He lightly brushed the black hairs that caressed to his forehead, underneath were hazel brown, almond eyes and sharp features that glinted under the light of the room. 

He wore a loose-fitting red jacket with black, white-lined sweatpants. 

There were five people who lived in the door with him, therefore all of them sitting in one small living room was kind of cramped. 

And it was starting to get stuffy as the dorm leader kept speaking and speaking without rest, he swears he was going to fall asleep at any second. 

He could barely keep his eyes open, let alone listen to the gibberish the person was spouting. 

The only thing keeping him awake was his throbbing butt as he sat on the rigid floor. 

What’s worst was that he was the only one who was sitting on the floor! 

They were all sitting on the couches and chairs while he was suffering alone on the hard floor. 

No one gave him a pillow, did he mention that? 

At least give him a little bit of respect? 

He didn’t even have something to lean on!  

In consequence, his shoulders have been aching for the last five minutes as he hunched his back, hardly listening to the long rant of his senior saying how he is so happy to meet them and blah, blah, blah. 

They haven’t even gotten to the introductions yet. 

“So, I think that was enough chatting, let’s get to know each other!” he paused with a lively somewhat forced smile, 

“Starting with me, my name is Eun Won-Shik, 18 years old. A pleasure to meet you guys! One interesting fact about myself is that I love marshmallows!”  

His brows furrowed with a confused expression twisting on his face. 

How is that supposed to be interesting? 

Eun Won-Shik glanced at the next person. 

It was a boy of slightly wavy, blonde hair and amber eyes with distinct features, his skin was faintly darker than the others in the room. He seemed to be a foreign trainee. 

He wore an oversized orange hoodie with abstract, black lines in the front. 

He absentmindedly blinked a couple times before slightly jumping and nervously starting, 

“Oh! Uh-hi? I’m Bae Emery, 18 years old too. Nice to meet you. Something about me... is that I like...” he briefly pondered, scratching his neck, 

“People?” 

What? 

“I like people too!” another voice intervened. 

It was a black-haired boy with tousled locks, he had a refined face with round eyes and long lashes. 

He had a simple white t-shirt on him with dark blue sweatpants with checkered patterns that circled the waistband. 

“My name is Gong Yong! I’m 16 years old and I’m able to make fake sneezes!”  

So, are we just saying random things? 

Before he could say anything, a flat voice started, 

“I’m Bi Hyun, 17 years old. A fun fact about me is that I can stay underwater for four minutes.” 

Well... that’s actually impressive.  

He can’t complain about that. 

The person who spoke had light brown hair that was meticulously smoothened on the side, with upturned eyes and delicate features, he had a dull expression painted on his face. 

He adorned a black hoodie with the image of wings behind and dark green joggings that had scribbled black stars on the end of the pant sleeve. 

Then the person next to him spoke, 

“Hello, I’m Jin Sangwook, 16 years old and uh-... I don’t have any allergies. Nice to meet you guys.” 

Are we your nutritionist? 

The boy politely smiled, his short black hair swaying as he gave a small wave. He had wide eyes with defined characteristics and a round face. 

He wore a fluffy white jacket with a light blue t-shirt underneath and grey sweatpants. 

Abruptly, all eyes turned towards him as it was his turn to introduce himself. He unconsciously straightened his back, sitting upright and spoke,  

“Hi. My name is Kim Dokja, I’m 17 years old and... I read often?” he gave a sheepish smile. 

That unfortunately faltered as someone interjected, 

“C’mon! Say something more interesting!” Gong Yong exclaimed with shimmering eyes. 

“Yeah dude, can’t just say I read books as an interesting fact!” Jin Sangwook added, agreeing with the others word. 

... Are you kidding me? 

Those other answers were interesting?! 

Your tastes are drier than a nun’s crotch. 

He pursed his lips as he stared at them, struggling to keep a friendly face. 

“Well...” he gritted through his teeth, racking through his brain for something, 

“I also write songs.” 

“That’s all?” Bi Hyun questioned with an unimpressed expression. 

“We’ve all said something about our lives, there’s no need to be shy to share about yours.” Eun Won-Shik said as he showed an understanding smile. 

I don’t know crap about your life except that you like marshmallows! 

You could’ve lied about that by the way. 

Dokja showed a forceful grin, the corner of his lips twitching as he tried to muster something intriguing about his life, 

“I used to work at a convenience store?” 

Everyone gazed at him with disappointed sighs as if he wasn’t the one who gave more answers than needed. 

Why is he being antagonized? 

They should be grateful he didn’t point out all their answers! Not even the dude who said “people”! 

Show a bit of appreciation! 

“It’s alright if you’re not comfortable sharing details with us, we’ll wait until you’re more settled in here.” Eun Won-Shik comforted as he continued, 

“Anyways, how about I give you guys a tour of the facilities?” 

No thank you. 

I need to sleep. 

- 

“Stop talking and listen up.”  

A man stood in front of the door frame, he had thin, slightly graying hair with black-framed glasses. On his clothes was a nametag that was labeled “Han Myungoh”. 

“We’re going to go over the rules. You’re part of Constellations Entertainment now, and everything you do reflects us, if you break any of the rules, you will be severely penalized.” He held a slight scowl on his face as he gazed at them with a clipboard in hand. 

“For curfew, you must be at your dorm by 10:00 PM and sleeping at 10:30 PM for minors. No exceptions unless cleared with a manager in advance.” 

“Phones will be collected at 10:30 PM every night, phone usage is only between 8:30-10:30 PM. You’re not authorized to use any SNS. Personal phone calls and texts are permitted but no talking about the company, location or dorm.” 

“Your dorms will be tidy all times, it will be weekly checked all Sunday nights. The chore rotation is posted on the fridge, any troubles between roommates will be reported to me.” 

“Eating is not allowed in the bedrooms, all company meals are delivered. Skipping is not permitted unless you’re sick and you’ve told a manager.” 

“Personal snacks are not allowed.” 

“Visitors are not authorized to enter, if your family wants to visit, it must be arranged through the office.” 

“Today is rest. Starting tomorrow, practice schedule begins.” 

“Rest when it’s time to rest. Don’t try to overwork yourself in the hallway or bathrooms. You’re not indestructible” 

“Respect your roommates. Seniors help guide juniors. Juniors follow instructions and show proper manners.” 

“One warning, then consequences. Don’t think that you’re finally trainees means you can do whatever you want. Need anything, tell your dorm leader. Anything to report, you report to me.” 

“I have a quest-” 

A sharp glare was directed at Gong Yong. 

And with that, he left dismissing all questions. 

‘People are really deprived here.’ 

- 

It was currently rest time, so everyone was free to do whatever they wanted as long it followed the rules and was done in the dorm. 

He would’ve been reading the new chapter of his web novel except... the two people beside him kept watching wedding proposal videos and bawling their eyes out. 

Sniffles sounded in the bedroom as some blew their noses and tossed their used tissue in the overexaggerated pile of tissues that stacked on the table. 

Not even having an ounce of decency to throw them in the bin. 

The worst thing is, 

The pile was on his desk!  

Now he has a snot-covered, germ writhing table with nowhere to work. 

Next time, he swears he’ll shit on their desk. 

We’ll see how they like it. 

As he let out an exasperated sigh, he grunted out of his bed, dragging his tired body elsewhere while gripping his phone and glowering at the mucus infested surface. 

The other ones were playing truth or dare in the living room, which he has no interest in participating so he quickly passed by, shielding his head with his hand. 

And despite his amazing camouflage, a voice called out, 

“Hey, Kim Dokja! Want to play?” 

It was Gong Yong, with an enthusiastic smile as he laid upside down, head dangling, on the couch. 

He looked like he was about to vomit. 

“Uh-no thank you, I prefer-” 

“Don’t be shy, we’ll go easy on you.” Eun Won-Shik interrupted, a suspicious smile branded on his face that did not at all convince him. 

“One round and it will suffice.” Bi Hyun added. 

Expectant eyes stared at him, burning holes in his body as the seconds ticked. 

He was torn between the decision of joining them and being the target of whatever accusations they have or the peace and safety of the bathroom and the endless nagging tomorrow. 

In the battle of trying to find the decision where he can keep a sliver of his sanity, two familiar heads appeared. 

“Play a round! Play multiple rounds! Build friendships! That’s what the free time is for!” Angel Dokja shouted in his ear, cupping the air so it could relay louder. 

“Go to the bathroom! Who cares about these people? They’re forcing you to play the game, who would want to play with them?” Devil Dokja objected his reasoning, a hostile finger pointed at the waiting people. 

“They’re not forcing him! They’re trying to make him feel more comfortable with them by bonding with fun games!” The white-winged creature defended his argument, approaching the other. 

“Then why did they target him at the introductions! Also, we don’t want to get vomited on!” the red-winged creature backed away from the other one, tugging Dokja’s hoodie towards the bathroom. 

“You know actually, I need to go to the bathroom.” he paused, momentarily glancing at said bathroom, 

“How about you guys play peacefully while I take care of my business?” he said as he forced a smile, his finger impatiently tapping on his screen as he hid it in his back pocket. 

“But-” 

“Alright, thank you!” 

Before they could say anything, he sped down the hallway with hurried steps, resounding against the floor as he made his way towards the bathroom. 

With a hasty movement, he twisted the doorknob, shoved himself inside, and locked the door, finally pulling out his phone and peacefully enjoying his reading without any obnoxious people. 

Unexpectedly, a notification appeared on his screen. 

Yoo Joonghyuk 

I’ve made a star stream account. What game should I play? 

[Screenshot] [Screenshot] 

A soft smile embraced his face as he taped to open his messages. 

- 

As he clicked on start stream button, the loading screen of the game appeared. 

The vibrant visual effects of the characters abilities flashed before him, as the large, bold title smashed down in front of him, flames bursting out of the sides; Incarnations Wrath. 

Yoo Joonghyuk adjusted his chair and glanced at the bottom of his screen, there was already a viewer. 

[Oldest Dream]: time to seduce people with your face!!! (and gameplay) 

He struggled to suppress the twitching of the corners of his mouth as he grunted in the microphone and started to queue. 

[Oldest Dream]: wow, this is how you treat your first viewer? 

[Oldest Dream]: the Supreme King is so cruel 

[Oldest Dream]: what is even that name? ¬_ ´¬  

He furrowed his brows at the message, while looking at the ban selection. 

[Oldest Dream]: whats this? The Supreme King is frowning because theres no other viewers? 

[Oldest Dream]: dont worry Ill keep you company. <3 

He lightly glimpsed at the ridiculous words before turning his gaze back at the screen and selecting his character. 

[Oldest Dream]: ah, but im just a weak damsel under the cold indifference of the frigid duke of the north, how pitiful I am 

[Oldest Dream]: he doesnt even respond to my loving words </3 my heart is broken 

A cough escaped Joonghyuk as the tip of his ears briefly reddened then rapidly disappeared as the round began. 

After a few minutes, he finally got his first kill, and a new message appeared on the screen. 

[Oldest Dream]: Gasp! He has killed! Send him to the guillotine! 

[Oldest Dream]: Jk/im so proud of you <3 

He glanced at the words and continued playing, already fighting a new person. 

[Oldest Dream]: i gift you my entertainment services for free and i dont even get a thank you? [Oldest Dream]: Such a callous person of a stone heart, you bruise me. 

A soft scoff escaped him as he advanced in his game, his second kill obtained. 

[Oldest Dream]: What a brute! A second person killed?!\ 

[Oldest Dream]: Send him to the pool of rotten tomatoes!!! 

[Oldest Dream]: Supreme King is so powerful! All the ladies are fawning over you!!! 

His eyes wandered to the chat again, internally sneering at the ridiculous words, and killing his third victim. 

[Oldest Dream]: A third kill??? I speculate sorcery! Burn him at the stake! 

After fifteen minutes, his team smoothly won the game. 

His user “Supreme King” was displayed as MVP on the screen, golden particles encircling the enlightened letters. 

[Oldest Dream]: the Supreme King has claimed his victory! Everyone bow down!!! Kneel in front of the glorious Supreme King!!! 

[Oldest Dream]: stop being so smug ¬_¬ 

[Wholesaletraditions]: dude this gameplay’s trash  

[Wholesaletraditions]: flower vase gamers really need to get off 

[Oldest Dream]: who are you insulting??? 

[Oldest dream]: you just barge in here insulting someone without even proving you have an ounce of skill in the game to make your critiques valid 

[Oldest Dream]:  how about you do smth in your life instead of shitting on someone else’s and sitting there like you are actually worth a scrap of their attention 

[Wholesaletradition]: just admit you’re only here for his face  

[Wholesaletradition]: sorry to break it to you but he wouldn’t date a rando girl online just because you worship him 

[Oldest Dream]: first of all I'm a guy second of all you’re obviously hating cuz your face looks like you had pickle juice implants since how sour it smells from here 

[Oldest Dream]: got a face more bloated than your ego 

[Wholesaletradition]: at least im not mindlessly worshipping some dude online that doesnt even respond to me like a dog 

[Oldest Dream]: you’re one to speak because he’s actually my friend, so i dont know whats wrong with me showing some admiration for a friend 

[Oldest Dream]: oh wait! its wrong for you because youve never experienced it! How silly of me 

[Oldest Dream]: not to mention youre barking like a dog desperate for attention cuz your parents didnt give enough shits about you 

[Wholesaletradition]: whatever keep drooling on your god over there im leaving 

[Oldest Dream]: good because we never wanted you in the first place 

Joonghyuk watched dazed at the conversation, his screen still stuck on the golden animation of MVP. 

[Oldest Dream]: hey why arent you starting the round? getting a lil impatient here 

Seeing those words, he gave a light snort. 

Before clicking on start queue, he muttered almost imperceptibly in the microphone, 

“Thank you.” 

Chapter 17: Rambutan Disco Ball

Notes:

*Warning graphic depictions of violence are in this chapter* you are warned

“Ok, imagine you’re walking in an abandoned alleyway at night then suddenly, someone jumps out and threatens you with a knife, demanding your money! What superpower would you choose to make them feel the most misery they’ve ever experienced in their life?”  

“You’ve got the choice between invisibility, telekinesis and time manipulation.” 

“What are these trash options?” Dokja furrowed his brows as he looked up from his book to stare at her. 

“You think these are trash because your narrow-minded brain can’t think of anything creative!” Sooyoung spat as she criticized his imagination and continued, 

“Personally, I would choose telekinesis.” 

“Why?” he asked, closing his book, fully invested. 

“Because you can manipulate move any object with your mind, right?” she questioned, wanting his confirmation. 

“Yeah?” 

“So, I would use my mind to move their organs, interchange their places and all. Then drag the person’s internal organs out of their ass, and their heart out of their throat.” the short-haired girl creepily said as she mimicked the actions of pulling. 

“After, I would reinsert their internal organs through their throat, and their heart through their ass.” 

“...”  

He stared at her in horror as she continued her torturing agenda, 

“Next step would be to break all their bones then slowly make the serrated pieces pierce the skin until they look like a porcupine and leisurely remove the bones one by one.” 

“Then I would rip out their eyeballs and forcefully make them swallow them. After I would slice their fingers and dice them into tiny pieces, cut their skin into patches and make them eat that too.” 

“Finally, I would leave their straggled body on the floor and watch the life gradually slipping out of them.” she finished with a proud smirk as she saw the frightened look painted on his face. 

“What do you think?” 

His mouth hung agape as he blinked a couple of times before responding, 

“... they only wanted money?” 

She furrowed her brows, offended. 

“But it was my money?” 

“...” 

“You know? Most people would just smash them against the wall and call it a day.” he awkwardly scratched his head as he sighed, 

“You really wrote in the wrong genre.” 

“Then maybe I should write in both?” Sooyoung said, smug, as she lightly stretched her arms. 

“I highly doubt you would succeed.” the black-haired boy snorted as he reopened his book, removing the page holder. 

“As if you are competent enough to judge if it’s trash or not.” she sneered, returning his snarky reply. 

“You-” 

“Anyways how’s training going?” she asked, cutting him off before he could berate her. 

“Haven’t started yet; I’m starting today.” he paused, 

“But I couldn’t’ve told you anyways since I’ve signed an agreement to keep my mouth shut.” 

“Really? They’re that strict?” she frowned, looking over his shoulder, curious of his book’s content. 

“I think that’s every company’s policy.” Dokja responded, swatting her face away. 

“What the hell dude, I was just reading your book.” she said as she slapped his intruding hand away and leaning closer. 

“Exactly.” he shot, shuffling further away from her as he pulled his book out of her view. 

“What are you even reading?!” the short-haired girl dragged him backwards by his collar and lurched over him, trying to grab his book. 

“None of your business.” he snapped, raising the open book in the air so she could not reach it, pushing her away by shoving her forehead. 

Seeing his resistance, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward, hauling his body towards her as she outstretched her hand to grab the book. 

The black-haired boy hastily threw the book into his arms, tightly encircling it, as he leaned backwards, his back touching the cement bench they were sitting on. 

Aggressive hands clutched his arms in effort the unwrap them and retrieve the precious item in his embrace, nails pinching the sleeves as they tried to pull them away. 

“C’mon! Give me the book!” Sooyoung fumed as she yanked the unwilling arms apart, dragging him backwards as she anchored her knees on the cement. 

“No, get off!” Dokja refused, writhing on his back as he tried to avoid the ambushing hands, twisting side to side. 

“Not until you give me that book!” with a harsh tug, she finally pried the defiant arms that revealed the bland dust jacket that covered the coveted book. 

“Why do you have a dust jacket?” she frowned as she carefully removed the cover. 

Underneath was revealed a black cover with two obscured figures on the front and a bold, red title that wrote, “7 days married to the Demon King”. 

“...” 

They both stared at each other, red dust bloomed on the black-haired boy’s cheeks as he snatched the book out of her hands and muttered, 

“The story is actually interesting if you ignore the title.” 

The short-haired girl gazed at him for a few more seconds before bursting out of laughter. 

Cackles sputtered out of her as her chest heaved, she clutched her body, wrapping her arms around her as she rolled uncontrollably on her back. 

Her incessant laughs echoed in the school courtyard as everyone stared at them. 

“Stop laughing!” he gritted through his teeth as he felt the intruding attention. 

“You-...Ppft-! You actually read these types of books?!” she choked on her breath as she continued cackling, her face reddening. 

“It’s not what you think it is! There’s not an ounce of smut inside, it’s not even categorized as romance either!” he mumbled blushful as he glowered at her. 

After a few minutes of obnoxious laughing, she eventually calmed down and sat upright, wiping the tears that soaked her cheeks and asked, 

“Then what does even it talk about?”  

He glared at her disdainfully before an exhale of relief escaped him as he started talking,  

“Alright, it’s talks about a girl being enslaved in a world where demons and humans coexist. She gets auctioned off to the demon king one day to be his wife. At their marriage, she finds an escape route in his castle and runs away. She stumbles upon a labyrinth...” 

- 

Mon: 07:30-16:00 -- Hwangmok High School | Academic Schedule 

17:30-18:15 – Breath Control & Light Conditioning | Rehab Room | Coach Wang – Low-impact cardio & breathing 

Hushed steps sounded in the corridor, he silently trudged in the empty hallways, gripping his schedule in his hand while trying to find the indicated room. 

The muffled music echoed in his ears as he tried to follow the directions on the walls, reading the intercrossed signs and arrows displayed with squinted eyes and a befuddled expression. 

Kim Dokja was never good with directions, especially if it was new buildings he was exploring. Well, technically he wasn’t visiting here for the first time but that doesn’t mean he could automatically memorize the whole mapping of the building, let alone the floor. 

But he’s sure he could get by. 

- 

He doesn’t know what got into his head thinking he could navigate without a guide. 

But maybe it wasn’t that bad because he would rather eat a platter of tomatoes than be stuck another second with that blabbering Sunbae of his and his stupid feigned smile. 

Nor with that supervisor who looked like he had a stick up his butt, always scowling. He didn’t even spare Dokja a glance when he very politely said good afternoon when passing him. 

What a pain. 

As he wandered through the endless halls, a faint haze of heat surfaced as he started to feel his heart thrumming, he couldn’t be late for his first ever class! 

He didn’t want to be condemned to the underground basement where they kept rule-breaking trainees or whatever they did to them. 

Maybe they would chain him, outstretched, on the wall as they slowly remove his organs. 

Ripping his heart out of his throat, pulling his internal organs out of his...-damnit! 

Now Han Sooyoung’s torture methods got to him! 

The bag that hung on his shoulder slowly felt heavier as he scorned under his breath with an anxious swallow. 

He didn’t even know the time since they took his phone away! 

He should’ve never trusted that shady, sparkly lady –– now he’s going to be tormented –– he didn’t even want any money! 

Curse this wretched situation... 

Just before he spiraled more into his aggrandizing degenerating thoughts of pain and misery, he suddenly bumped into a sturdy frame... and small? 

Dokja widened his eyes as he was met with azure, piercing eyes that peered into his soul. 

With a startled jump back, the black-haired boy stared a few more moments, absentmindedly blinking before abruptly realizing who stood before him. 

Kyrgios Rodgraim. 

He immediately activated his self-saving mechanism –– excessive, sincere apologies while bowing down. 

“I profusely apologize for my mindless actions, Seonsaengnim. Please accept my excuses.” 

A small droplet of sweat drizzled down his forehead as silence responded to his exceedingly sincere apologies. 

He internally prayed for his wellbeing. 

The air was rigid as he felt stuffy, gazing at the polished tiles of the floor, the daunting presence unnervingly staring at him.  

As if the heavens have decided to grace him today, instead of scolding, a dull voice questioned, ignoring his overwhelming nervousness, 

“Are you lost?” 

He didn’t dare to look up, perfectly content with his head down. 

“Yes, Seonsaengnim.” he quickly replied, the miniscule droplet plummeting down to the floor. 

“What room are you heading to?” 

“Rehab room.” 

The instructor stood quietly in front of him. 

His stomach did multiple backflips as he waited for a response. 

“Follow me.” Kyrgios said, gesturing behind him as he walked towards the opposite direction. 

Dokja quickly looked up surprised eyes before gathering his thoughts and rapidly followed him, trailing behind him with hesitant steps. 

- 

Several mirrors reflected his entering figure as he stepped into the room, the low-pitch hum of the lights whirred in the room while multiple mats, foam rollers and resistance bands cluttered the sleek room. 

The room was eerily quiet, he slowly approached the middle of the room and called out, 

“Hello? Seonsaengnim?” 

Suddenly, a voice responded, 

“Seonsaengnim” sounds a bit stiff, right? Just call me Wang-ssaem!”  

Alarmed, Dokja swiftly twirled a one-eighty and was faced with a wide grin. 

The man in front of him had short, curly brown hair with sharp features and black eyes, black studded earrings adorned his ears as a small silver piercing hung on his lip. 

He wore a red tracksuit with dark blue and white lines tracing the sides of his sleeves and pants, in the back it wrote “SuperStar” with black stars. 

“Kim Dokja, right? Nice to meet you!” he held out his hand, a faded, reddish mark blemished the smooth skin. 

The teacher seemed younger than the others at the orientation introduction, he radiated a youthful, enlivening energy with his lively smile and small dimples that dented his cheeks. 

“C’mon, don’t leave me hanging, the mark ain’t gonna curse you.” Wang So lightly joked as he wagged his hand in front of Dokja. 

“Oh-uh, sorry Wang-ssaem.” he politely took his hand and shook while saying, 

“I look forward for your guidance.” 

“Ah, you flatter me! Now let’s start the lesson.” he joyously exclaimed as he pulled out his clipboard. 

Holding the board, he casually removed the cap of his pen with his mouth and twirled in his finger while muttering, 

“Alright, so new trainee... 17 years old, passed the evaluation with an A minus in vocals and a B minus in dance, rap is not noted.” he frowned as he read aloud, 

“Flagged for fitness with... low stamina, nutritional deficiencies and weight concerns.” 

At those words, Dokja glanced elsewhere, his hands unconsciously clenched the rough fabric of his pants as his fingers fidgeted with the string of his hoodie, rubbing the metal tip as he grazed the engraved letters of the brand. 

The teacher looked back at him; a glint of worry scintillated in his eyes as he inserted the cap of the pen back, and held the clipboard under his armpit, clapping his hands and said, 

“How about we start with diaphragmatic breathing?” 

- 

“C’mon! Thirty more seconds! You can do it!” Wang So cheered as he watched him jog in place while he flapped his arms in circular movements. 

He felt ridiculous. 

And he was already tired, sore spots flamed up in his arms as the repetitive, burdensome motions exhausted his arms as his calves burned, flickers of ache hitting the flesh. 

He thought it was a light, easy exercise, not a mission to permanently paralyze his body. 

Who said exercise was enjoyable? It’s not at all! 

He’s never trusting those gym people who drinks vegetable smoothies –– actually he shouldn’t trust anyone who drinks vegetable smoothies. 

They’re most likely aliens who descended on earth and haven’t exactly computed on how the human palate works and trying to excuse it saying it’s healthy for our bodies. 

A bunch of freaks. 

Honestly, he would’ve preferred the dungeon, that way he wouldn’t be doing all the work. 

Now he feels bad for the torturers who would whip the prisoners. 

Doing that daily must hurt. 

! 

The strident ring of the chronometer chimed. 

At the long-awaited sound, all his movements halted as his knees faltered, and he slumped on the floor, the cool wooden planks alleviated the suffocating heat that stifled the air. 

Gasping pants choked out of him as his chest heaved, elevating and collapsing in an erratic rhythm as his throat rasped for water. 

He sluggishly raised a hand to comb the hair that scratched his forehead, his fingers raking through the sweat strands as he slowly rose from the ground to grab the water bottle beside him. 

He urgently screwed off the cap of the bottle and immediately downed the lukewarm water, the irritating itch easing as he wiped the corner of his mouth. 

A damp smudge stained his hand as it glistened in the bright lighting of the room. 

“Ok! You can take a 1-minute rest then we’ll start shadow boxing!” Wang So said as he quickly noted something on his notepad. 

Great now he’s punching shadows. 

He’d rather be the shadow getting punched –– at least it’s not self-inflicted pain. 

- 

“So, now we’re going to do light yoga poses and stretches!” The teacher excitedly exclaimed as he rolled out a two pink rubber mats on the floor. 

“Live, Laugh, Love.” was scrawled in white cursive letters on the first one while, “Dream, Explore, Discover.” was scribbled in blue bold letters on the second one. 

“Do you like the mats?” Wang So questioned with an excited smile as he removed his shoes and calmly sat, legs crossed, on the first one. 

“Uh-...” he nervously darted his eyes across the room before reluctantly responding, “Very... inspiring!” then added with smile of pursed lips, 

“Motivates me a lot!” 

“That’s spirit!” the brown-haired man chirped as he gestured with a hand, 

“Come sit!” patting on the recoiling, prominent words that proudly displayed themselves on the pink rubber. 

Expectant eyes stared at him, the glimmering shine coaxing him to sit. 

His cheeks started to ache as he continued to smile, he gently lowered himself on the pink mat and crossed his legs, mimicking the teacher’s posture. 

“First, we’ll start with a light stretch.” he said as he spread out one leg, extending it until it reached the edge of the mat as the other stayed folded, his foot pointing inside. 

“You’re going to extend one leg and keep the other one folded, then lean on the extended one as you use your hands to grab your foot, like this.” he tilted to the side as his fingers held his toes. 

“Got it?” 

Dokja nodded at his movements, replicating the same position and slowly stretching his arms to reach his foot. 

Except he couldn’t. 

His side burned as he pulled to try and grab his toes, his fingers writhing in the air in attempt to grasp, but to no avail. 

“Don’t try to force it, just stretch to your limit.” Wang So said as he watched his struggling efforts. 

The ache flamed up as the seconds ticked away, a throe pulsated everywhere as he kept stretching, he felt his side straining. 

He unconsciously bit his lip as he endured the gnawing throb, eagerly awaiting the teacher’s words to stop. 

Just as he was about to slouch on the ground, Wang So finally said, 

“Alright, you can stop.” 

With a sign of relief, he collapsed on his back as he painfully rubbed his side, soothing the subsiding burn, his eyes fixed the blinding lights that hung over him. 

Isn’t stretching supposed to be relieving? 

Dream, explore, discover?  

He’ll soon be exploring the depths of the underworld, discovering the abyssal pits of hell. 

He’s not going to dream tonight. 

“Next, we’ll do the other side!” 

What. 

- 

With a light thud, he lifelessly plopped onto the soft mattress, the lulling warmth of the blanket covered him as he rolled on his back, gazing at the wooden bedframe of the bed on top of him. 

The draining exhaustion lessened as his limp body sunk into the bed. 

The training wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. 

Though the period with Mr. Wang was torturing, it did do some effects since he feels lighter than usual. 

Except, he thinks the coach is secretly a sadist.  

And the class with Mr. Rodgraim was fine however he kept glaring at him as if he wrote a full-fledged hate paragraph about him online. 

Did he really keep a grudge after he bumped into him? 

It was an accident! 

Who knew the beloved idol was so petty. 

He would- 

“Hey, Kim Dokja!” a familiar voice sounded from the doorframe. 

He hesitantly turned towards the voice’s direction with dreary eyes as he saw Jin Sangwook, the person who sputtered tears (and snot) yesterday like an old water faucet. 

He didn’t even clean it up!  

Well –– at least his partner in crime helped Dokja clean it up while profusely apologizing. 

Thank you, Bae Emery. 

“Yesterday, you didn’t play truth or dare with the others! How about you play today since everyone is participating?” 

“...” Dokja stared at him for a few seconds, his eyelashes fluttered as he blinked at his words with a twitching eyebrow. 

“No thank you, I’m very tired today so I don’t think I should play with you guys.” he responded with a forced smile, tugging his blanket to lay back on his bed. 

“C’mon! At least one game and we’ll leave you alone!” he pleaded with a pouting face, his fingers gripping the frame. 

“No, I wouldn’t even be awake during the game, you guys would be better without me.” he dismissed with a wave as he settled down on the soft mattress. 

“But the others really want you to play too!”  

“Tell them I’ll play when I’m able to keep myself awake.” 

“You can lay on the couch and sleep, and we’ll wake you up once it’s your turn!” 

“The couch is not good for my back.” 

“We’ll give you all the pillows!” 

“My bed is more comfortable.” 

“This is the last time we ask you, then we’ll never beg you to play again.” 

At those words, he finally turned to face him with an arched eyebrow. 

“You promise?” 

“Yup!” 

With an exhausted sigh, he slowly shuffled out of his bed, dragging his body from the warm blankets and reluctantly trudged towards the living room. 

- 

“Alright! My turn!” Gong Yong exclaimed as he spun the bottle, anticipation in his eyes. 

After a few spins it finally landed on Bae Emery. 

“Ok, truth or dare?” the black-haired boy gazed at him with expectant eyes. 

Bae Emery pondered for a few seconds before reluctantly saying, 

“Dare?” 

“Yes!” Gong Yong’s eyes darkened as he held a malicious expression. 

“Let the group pour ice down your shirt and keep it for 5 minutes!” 

The blonde-haired boy widened his eyes in horror as he listened to his words, unconsciously clutching his shirt. 

“Uhm-...I don’t-” 

“You’re not going to do it? You’re turning down a dare?” Bi Hyun intervened his protesting as he rose an eyebrow at his reluctance. 

“It’s not that it’s just-” 

“Well, if you’re uncomfortable doing it, we can always skip it, and you’ll have to do your next dare two times.” Eun Won-Shik said with a gentle smile, peering at him with an understanding look. 

Expectant eyes stared at him, Bae Emery uncomfortably shifted in his position before spitting out, 

“Fine! I’ll do it!”  

“I’ll grab the bucket!” Jin Sangwook shouted before anyone else could and skedaddled off towards the kitchen. 

- 

The blonde-haired boy trembled as he embraced himself, wrapping his arms around himself to gather heat as his shivering hand spun the bottle. 

The plastic bottle swiveled on the wooden floor, a hissing sound resonated in the room as it grazed the surface as the tension tightened. 

And it finally pointed at Bi Hyun. 

“Truth-...” he bit his lip at the cold that stung him, “or dare?” 

“Truth.” the light brown-haired boy responded with a straight face. 

“Boring!” Gong Yong chimed with a grin as Bi Hyun glared at him. 

“Uh-” Bae Emery briefly thought then hesitantly said, 

“What was your worst dream?” 

“My worst dream?” he furrowed his brows, and he racked his brain. 

“I would say it was when I dreamed about my family living in a cabin in the forest.” he paused and continued, 

“We lived by eating the animals my dad hunted daily as my mother cooked them. My job was to pick the fruits and vegetables in the forest.” 

“One day, it took my father longer to get back from hunting. When he returned, his behavior was strange; he moved weirdly, he refused to eat the fruits and vegetables I picked, and he told my mother to let him eat his meat raw.” 

“Obviously there was something wrong again, I thought he inhaled or ate something that changed him, so I went to the forest to find fruits to appease him.” 

“While I wandered through the forest, I noticed a weird lump laying on a rock. Curious, I went and checked it.” 

“As I approached the smell of decay invaded the air and before I realized it, the dead, mangled body of my father was in front of me, carelessly strewn on the rock.” 

“His skin was lacerated with cuts as the insides was mauled. Large bumps bulged on his skin as I could see veins sprouting like spiderwebs. His stomach billowed, the skin was stretched as it turned translucent.” 

“Inside the bulge was a vague silhouette, shaped like a fetus.” 

“Before I could do anything, a svelte limb pierced through the fragile skin, mucus covered claws ripped it open as a viscid substance spattered everywhere.” 

“Horrified, I quickly ran away back to my house to see if anything happened to my mother.” 

“As I arrived home, the faint smell of cooked meat lingered in the house, I rushed to the kitchen and saw my mother peacefully humming as she pulled something out of the oven.” 

“In her hands laid a metal tray, on top of it was the decapitated head of my mother. Her face disfigured, prominent blisters bulged on her face as slits connected her mouth to her ears.”  

“Unrooted teeth stuck to the edges of the cuts. Her eye sockets hollowed as her eyes were in her mouth.” 

“My supposed mother turned towards with a gentle smile and said, “Your father has turned into a monster and tried to transform into me. As punishment, we shall feast on his head tonight and keep his body for the following days.” 

“She looked at me with soft eyes then continued, “You’ll hunt animals now.”” 

An uneasy silence hovered in the room as everyone stared at the light brown-haired boy with fright, some nervously biting their nails as they huddled in their spot as others froze in fear or just stared unflinching. 

“My turn.” Bi Hyun said as he deftly twirled the bottle, unminding of the terrified expressions of his dormmates. 

The plastic bottle endlessly whirled as the water swayed with its movements, the slushing sound echoed in the room. 

It finally landed on Kim Dokja. 

Before he could react, the question was already asked, 

“Truth or dare.” 

His eyes anxiously darted across the room, looking at anything other than the burning gazes that anticipated his answer. 

He gave a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck before replying, 

“I’ll choose... dare.” 

“Let the group style your hair as they please and you must wear it that way until you go to sleep.” Bi Hyun said as Eun Won-Shik excitedly pulled out an accessory kit that hid underneath the pillow next to him. 

“What?-” the question was left in his mouth as he was tackled to the ground, arms restraining him as he heard Gong Yong effort to reassure him “Don’t worry, we’ll make you pretty!” 

- 

The faint buzz of the lights hummed as he stood in the bathroom. 

His eyes slowly scrutinized his appearance, eyebrows furrowed as his fingers gripped the edge of the counter. 

Multiple short braids clustered his head, sprouting out, making him look like a rambutan as colorful elastic bands wrapped around them, adding a bit of color to his miserable person.  

Sparkles of glitter shimmered under the light as they embellished his head as if they wanted to make him resemble a disco ball. 

A rambutan disco ball. 

Whatever the hell that is. 

He heaved a woeful sigh as he sluggishly twisted the doorknob, glitter trailing behind him as he walked. 

He is not cleaning that up. 

Chapter 18: Unloving Lovesick Brother

Notes:

sorry this chapter is short cuz it's a filler 😅
trying to figure out what to do for the next chapter
also dont mind the song titles as users (i was too lazy to think of more creative ones)😓

“You’re not going out.”  

“Please Oppa!” Mia pleaded as she clung to her brother’s arm, clearly ignorant of the pile of papers he was working on.  

“No.” Joonghyuk sternly replied, dismissing the pleas of his sister as the grip on his pencil tightened.  

Seeing his unbudging stance, she jabbed multiple belligerent punches, striking his arm, sharply contrasting with the behavior she showed a few moments ago.  

“This is important!” she shouted, continuing her violent thwacks.  

“And what exactly is it?” he endured her bullying assaults while scribbling something down on his paper.  

All punches halted at that question.  

“...”  

“You are not to go out this house without my permission.” Joonghyuk sighed as he dropped his pencil and massaged his temple.  

An irked scowl painted her face as she crossed her arms across her chest.  

Suddenly, her eyes lit up as an idea came to her.  

The little girl aggressively shoved his arm away as she forcefully climbed into his lap to face him.  

Then flashed the most pitiful face she could ever muster; her lips pouted, trembling, as unshed tears swelled in her eyes, glimmering under the faint light of the lamp.  

She softly gripped his clothing as she continued to gaze at him, a weak voice came out,  

“Oppa.”  

He tiredly stared at her, his eyebrow twitching as he slightly frowned.  

“That is not going to work.”  

Her crocodile tears immediately disappeared at those words as she recommenced her bullying jabs while angrily fussing,  

“Oppa is so heartless! I’m trying to help you, but you won’t show an ounce of gratefulness!”  

The black-haired boy glanced back at his work, picking his pencil back up as he held his sister on the side while replying,  

“Advertising me on the internet as the perfect lover is helping?”  

“...”  

She peered at him for a few seconds with innocent eyes and answered,  

“Yes.” not a sliver of guilt in her eyes.  

“No.”  

Infuriated, she aggressively slapped his pencil out of his hands as she yanked off the arm that held her.  

Then crawled out of his lap, leaping from the chair with a graceful landing and running back to her room.  

Her clamoring stomps resonated in the hallway as she yelled scornfully,  

“I hate you!”  

-  

Yoo Mia hates her Oppa.  

Yes, she really hates him.  

After her selfless attempts to cure his unrequited love with all her arduous efforts, he bans her from seeing Dokkaebi King for two weeks!  

TWO WEEKS!  

That’s fourteen days!  

And... a lot of minutes!  

And everyone at school keeps talking about the new episodes that now she has to eat in the toy shed to not hear the spoilers!  

She’s become a victim of social isolation, a deprived, neglected child of boredom mistreated by her unloving, lovesick brother – who’s still acting weird!  

Might as well lock her up in her room.  

She’s calling the CPS!  

Well – that’s what bad little sisters do! So, she won’t do it!  

Instead, like the amazing, righteous, compassionate, good-natured little sister she is, she will strive to find the remedy to his brooding, aching heart!  

Then he will be so happy he’ll let her go to Dokkaebi Land!   

And when she meets the Dokkaebi King, he’ll bestow her the title of “Best little sister in the world”  

That’s it!  

Operation: Find Oppa’s unrequited crush  

It’s time for the best, most hardworking, crime solving detective squad in Seoul –– the YooGil Company!    

Yoo Mia –– Agent Squid Slayer.   

Shin Yoosung –– Agent Beast Lord   

Lee Gilyoung –– Agent Insect King   

Biyoo –– Dokkaebi King   

Ever since crime tarnished the streets of Seoul, these four amazing agents emerged and used their masterful skills to protect the innocents and defeat evil.   

Without them, the world would be in chaos.  

Monday, December 8th, 2008     

1630 hours. Day 3 of investigation.  

With a swift movement, she took out her good ol’, trusty, bedazzled, JD-5149, limited edition, ultra sonic walkie talkie of supreme quality and aggressively pressed on the button,  

“Radio Check. This is Agent Squid Slayer speaking. Do you hear me. Over.”    

“...”  

The faint hum of the radio buzzed in the silence of her room as she waited, impatiently tapping her foot against her plush pillow as she leaned next to Mister Biyoo.  

The low-pitched buzz continued as no response came, the rhythmic tapping gradually accelerating as her patience grew thinner.  

An irked scowl branded her face as she pressed on the button again.  

“Radio Check. This is Agent Squid Slayer speaking. Do you hear me. Over.”    

“...”  

The silence still persisted as no answer came.  

“Hello.”  

“Guys.”  

“This.”  

“Is.”  

“An”  

“Emergency.”  

“HELLO?!” she angrily shouted as she shoved the radio near her mouth, her knuckles white as she gripped it.  

A vexed groan escaped her as she threw the bedazzled, JD-5149, limited edition, ultra sonic walkie talkie of supreme quality into her pillow as it rebounded back onto the floor with a harsh thud.  

Leaving a large, conspicuous dent on the innocent pillow.  

The black-haired girl exasperatedly threw her head back onto the mountain of plushies as she agitatedly threw violent kicks on the mistreated pillow.  

 After a long moment of brutal bullying, she finally calmed down, her chest heaving with an exhale as she rapidly rose up with a determined expression.  

She whipped her head towards Mister Biyoo and resolutely said,  

“If the others aren’t going to respond, we’re going to solve this together! Agent Dokkaebi King, you have now been promoted from bodyguard to investigator!” she paused, throwing herself towards her box of crafts and dried up glittery glue.  

A few seconds passed and she excitedly slapped a sparkly name tag on the forehead of the white fluff ball intitling “Detective Biyoo”.  

“Let’s go!” Mia exclaimed as she dragged the agent by the horn and hurriedly left her room.  

-  

“Well, I would recommend this product for rough-”  

“Pretty girl!”  

At the recognizable voice, Lee Seolhwa rapidly twirled around and spotted a familiar face behind her, luscious, black ponytails swaying as she ran towards her.  

“Oh, hello! You’re back?” the white-haired girl said as she approached her, placing the box she held in her hands back on the shelf.  

Mia tiredly panted as she drew near her, clutching the white fluff ball as she gazed down, gathering her breath.  

“Pretty girl.”  

“Yes?” Lee Seolhwa responded with a concerned expression at the gasping girl.  

“You-...” she heaved as she took a breath, “need to help me!”  

The white-haired girl curiously tilted her head as she questioned,  

“How so?” a confused expression etched on her face.  

“You need to help me find my Oppa’s crush!” the black-haired girl exclaimed as she looked up, sparkles in her eyes as she wore a determined smile.  

Lee Seolhwa lightly laughed at her words, glancing at her phone, reading the chat,  

[loverpoisongirlie]: ITS ME IM HIS CRUSH TRUST!!!  

[incidentallythere]: tf you mean? Its obv me his destined partner  

[Poison Propaganda]: sigh if only he gave me a chance ( – ⌓ – )=3  

[snowhitecurse]: yall are actually delusional cuz ITS ME HIS CRUSH  

[Incompatible Looks]: you guys are dead ass? simping for a guy yall dont know?  

[exudeleakingpoison]: what do you expect? its an attractive guy on a beauty influencer’s livestream ofc people are going to simp regardless of personality  

“What happened to your friends? Aren’t you guys like a group or something?” she asked, looking back at the little girl who stared at her with expectant eyes.  

Yoo Mia glowered at their mention, glimpsing elsewhere as she scornfully spat,  

“They had other official business to attend. I only have Agent Biyoo accompanying me.” she excitedly presented the enormous plushy, the shimmering name tag glinted under the fluorescent store lights.  

“Oh really? Very serious I see.” Lee Seolhwa nodded with a feigned understanding expression as she realized something,  

“How did you find me?”  

At that question, the black-haired girl’s eyes lit up as she put on a righteous stance,  

“Because I am Agent Squid Slayer! The lead agent of the best detective squad in Seoul!” hitting her chest with a fist as a dignified expression painted her face.  

“Ah yes, how could I forget.” she gently smiled as she held her phone and asked,  

“So, what honor do I owe Agent Squid Slayer? How do I help you?”  

“You’ll help me find pretty girls and get them to fall in love with my brother!” Yoo Mia proudly said pulling out the scowling picture of her brother and displaying it in front of the phone,  

“My brother is the perfect lover! If you disagree than you’re-” a gloved hand suddenly covered her mouth muffling her words as she softly said,  

“I’m sure they understood, let’s go.”  

-  

poison supremacy @beautiezappreciation  

WHO IS THIS BOYYY???? 
LITTLE GIRL YOU CAN’T KEEP SAYING HES THE PERFECT LOVER AND NOT SAY HIS NAME!!! 

[Picture] [Picture] [Picture]  

5:24 PM • Dec 08, 2008   

devious plans @abbreviatingrocks  

Replying to @beautiezappreciation  

RIGHT????  

ALSO IM SURPRISED HE ISNT ALREADY A MODEL RN???  

I GLADLY WOULD LIKE TO SEE HIM ON MY MAGAZINES PLSSS  

Beauty me up @seolhwanailclippers  

Replying to @abbreviatingrocks  

I IMAGINE FASHION BRANDS ALREADY RUSHING TO HIRE HIM LOL  

authenticpoison @authenticpoison  

Replying to @beautiezappreciation   

NO BUT CAN ANYONE USE THEIR POWERS AND FIND OUT WHO HE IS???  

BECAUSE IM DESPERATE  

Without snow @eccentriceyes  

Replying to @beautiezappreciation     

Am I the only one who thinks the little girl is so cute???  

Like look at her smug grin!!! (╥ᴗ╥)  

[Picture] [Picture]  

Humming Rain @realifesnowhite  

Replying to @eccentriceyes   

Ur not the only one girl!!!  

See her proud expression each time when someone says theyre in love with him!  

[Picture] [Picture] [Picture]  

I would kill to have such a cute little sister like her!!!  

poisonous poison @saltypepper  

Replying to @beautiezappreciation     

Who else is shipping Seolhwa with him ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)?  

silkensnow @upperclassface  

Replying to @saltypepper  

WAIT I CAN ACTUALLY SEE IT???  

perfect celebrity @mayhemball  

Replying to @saltypepper   

Nah I ship the guy with the blurred person in the other picture  

[Picture] [Picture]  

You see how he’s looking at that person???  

conventional hairday @carrymeout  

Replying to @saltypepper  

Nuh uh  

I SHIP HIM WITH MYSELF!!!!  

bubble pop @electricgwenstef  

Replying to @beautiezappreciation  

SOMEONE FIND OUT WHO HE IS!!!  

IM DYING HEREE  

-  

Trending topics #poisonmysteryboy #poisonbeautybf #perfectloverboy  

startafight @jovalbrae  

GUYSSS!!!!  

I’VE FOUND HIM  

HES A NEW STREAMER ON STAR STREAM  

[Picture] [Picture]  

UNDER THE NAME SUPREME KING PLAYING INCARNATIONS WRATH!!!  

5:56 PM • Dec 08, 2008  

-  

Normally, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t care less about his star stream account.  

Let alone who watches his gameplay.  

He doesn’t understand the appeal of watching someone play, he’d rather just do it himself.  

And it doesn’t help when the person he’s watching is obviously terrible at the game –– just frustrates him.  

So, it didn’t surprise him that his only viewer was Kim Dokja, also not to mention it was only yesterday he created the account.  

Therefore, imagine the surprise that came to him when he saw he had 49k+ followers on his account.  

What the hell happened?  

Now here he is, eyebrows furrowed as a befuddled expression embraced his face while he stared at the exaggerated number on his screen.  

Did he accidentally log into the account of someone else?  

No, it says Supreme King just there.  

Is there a virus on his computer?  

No, he never pirated games or browsed shady websites so that’s improbable.  

Should he start a stream?  

But Kim Dokja is training right now.  

He pursed his lips as his hands rested on the mouse, his finger hovering, just one click from starting a live and having thousands of people flood in.  

If they’re real and not bots of course.  

The black-haired boy frowned as he finally relented and clicked on start stream.  

After a few seconds, hundreds of people joined, several chats clustered the bottom of his screen.  

[crypticpoison]: WOOHOO HE FINALLY STARTED A STREAM!!!  

[snowfallsnow]: THAT PHOTO DID NOT DO HIM JUSTICE WHY IS HE TEN TIMES HOTTER!1?1?!?  

[bustyourkneecaps]: HOT DAMN please look at me!!!\  

[beautyofpoison]: Hey~~ *leans on lamborghini  

[harajukugirls]: I CAN BE YOUR CRUSH LOVERBOY!!!  

[applauselady]: Give us a chance!!1!  

[poisonousnow]: I DONT WANT U I WANT TO SEE YOUR SISTER!!!  

[makemesmile]: Whos your crush ծ_Ô  

He stared a few more seconds at the rushing messages that flooded his view before darting his cursor towards the end stream button.  

His screen darkened as the words “Your stream has ended” was displayed as he processed what happened.  

The problem is he couldn’t process it.  

Who the hell are these people!?  

-  

Trending topics #supremeking #poisonboyidentity  

doublejump @punktactics  

Yall scared him away LMAO  

[Picture] [Picture]  

6:39 PM • Dec 08, 2008   

le temps d’amour @aprilmarchspring  

Replying to @punktactics  

NOOO COME BACK!!!  

WE SWEAR WE DON’T BITE  

rattlesnake @caravanthieves  

Replying to @aprilmarchspring  

You sure???  

[Picture] [Picture] [Picture]  

People are actually crazyyy  

poisonz safety @deadlydoctorbeauty  

Replying to @caravanthieves  

that's not ussss  

we swear  

 

 

Chapter 19: Mop Bucket

Notes:

Sorry for late update, I kind of struggled writing this chapter 😅
Sort of based this on my ice skating classes and dance class videos I found online

Tue: 07:30-16:00 -- Hwangmok High School | Academic Schedule    

17:30–19:00 - Dance B – Musicality & Expression | Dance Studio 2 | Ms. Wi – Low-impact, focused choreography  

Soft instrumental music resonated in the room while the faint odor of pungent sweat and sterile disinfectant lingered, permeating the air as several people stretched in corners, compared bruises or reviewed choreography, waiting for the class to start.  

Multiple of them wore labeled shirts, some saying “Debut Placement 3” others “Dance Placement A”, displaying their levels for everyone to see. Sharply contrasting with the plain black shirt the company provided for Dokja  

Unconsciously, he grasped the strap of his bag, his thumb caressing the cheap fabric and the frayed stings that sprouted out of the seams.  

As he reluctantly entered, a few of them glanced at him, eyes scrutinizing, some out of curiosity others out of assessment.  

Suddenly, someone mutters behind him, cupped hands near ears as they continued to eye him,  

“Why’d they put a part-time here?” they scoffed, “Don’t they remembered what happened to the last one?”  

Dokja furrowed his brows at those words, shifting uncomfortably in the loose-fitting shirt that slightly smelled like chemicals.  

Seeing everyone else stretching, he glimpsed around the room, searching a place to unfurl his mat and stretch in peace.  

Except everyone took a spot and no one offered to shove themselves to make some space for him.  

So much for being hopeful about the people here.  

He sighed and slowly approached at the edge of the mirror wall on the ground, between a foam roller and a mop bucket.  

At least he had company?  

If this continues, he might as well do the choreography with the mop, since it was more agreeable than to do it with these people here.  

He then dropped his bag to the floor with a thud and unrolled his rubber mat on the floor, grimacing at the dust that fluttered away.  

He gently settled himself on the smooth mat and started light stretches; interlacing his fingers while pulling towards the ceiling, then swaying his arms side to side, forming a diamond shape.  

No one is staring at him now, that’s some progress, right?  

After a few minutes, a gentle chime of an alarm sounded in the room as a slim silhouette slipped into the room, clipboard in hand and a lilac-cased phone in the other.  

Her luscious, red locks were tied up in a high ponytail as her side-swept bangs were clipped to the side with black barrettes. She wore a tight-fitting black jacket with a high collar and red sweatpants.  

Noticing her presence, everyone started to leave their spots to stand in front of her, Dokja followed suit, sluggishly getting up as his bones slightly cracked from sitting in an awkward position.  

Did stretching really do anything?  

Her eyes silently swept the room, counting under her breath as they landed on each person.  

She then pulled out her pen and started calling out names,  

“Ae Bong – Dance A, Vocal 2”  

“Yes.” she checked the name with a swift movement as she listed another name,  

“Bing...”  

-  

“Geum Dae-Hyun – Dance B, Vocal 2”  

“Here.”  

“Jwa Min Ki – Dance A, Vocal 3”  

“Present!”  

“Kim Dokja – Dance B, Vocal 1, Part-time”  

Startled, he flinched as his name was called, he hesitantly looked up and said,  

“Here.”  

Several gazes turned to him.  

What’s the problem now?  

The instructor flicks her pen again across the white paper, lips tightening slightly as she said,  

“First day, huh?” she sighed,  

“Keep up. B-level isn’t generous.”  

At those words, he stiffened, clenching the hem of his shirt as he heard a couple of muffled snorts around him.  

What did that mean?  

He politely bowed his head and nodded, uncertain what to respond.  

Wi Kyungsoon glared at the snickers before continuing,  

“Mi In-Ho – Dance A, Vocal 1”  

-  

“Alright, we’ll start with a 10-minutes warm up.” she clasped her hand with a bright smile, unlike the seriousness she had just a moment ago.  

“First, to reset the body and center the head which is essential for expression, we’ll do a neck and spine sequence, two minutes.” she paused, glancing across the room to see if everyone’s attention was on her and continued,  

“Pay attention because I will only repeat this two times, first look at my movements then follow them on the second time.”  

“Gentle neckrolls, two clockwise and two counterclockwise.” she said as she rolled her neck, demonstrating the exercise,  

“After, chin tucks with four-count holds, follow the beat.” her head lifted upwards then whipped side-to-side, perfectly syncing with the rhythm of the soft music.  

“Now, slow head isolations, go forward, back then side-to-side, robotically with eight-count holds. Remember, always on the beat” she finished the sequence and stared at the class,  

“Got it?” she didn’t wait for a response before saying,  

“Ok, follow my movements.”  

The teacher started again.  

Dokja steadily kept his eyes on her as he tried to mimic her movements while internally counting in his head.  

This isn’t too bad...  

He pursed his lips as he felt his motions stiff and frowned as he missed a beat, forgetting to count as he tried to smoothen his movements.  

“Ok! Time.”  

“Now arm and shoulder isolations, two minutes!”  

-  

“Core control and breathing activation c’mon! To engage the core without wasting energy, vital for stamina, we’ll do it for two minutes so be focused on my movements and follow.”  

She seemed to glance at Kim Dokja before starting her motions,  

“Standing pelvic tilts, forward and back eight times!”  

Dokja frowned as he placed his hands on his hips, tilting forward to back felt awkward and he still felt stiff in his movements. He glanced at the others around him and imitated their motions as he couldn’t see the instructor very well.  

Can’t these people move a bit?  

“Pay attention! Now side-to-side.” she shifted her hips side-to-side all while maintaining a straight posture.  

“Now plié with breathing rhythm! Stand with feet wider than shoulder width apart with toes turned at a 45-degree angle and arms curled, and inhale.”  

“Bend your knees, keep them aligned with your toes as you lower your torso as if sitting on a chair with your arms spreading out.”  

“Remember to maintain your posture and engage your core.” she bent her knees as she sank down, her arms following her movement as they swayed.  

“Exhale and squeeze your glutes as you push your heels to starting position, keep your back straight!”  

“Then repeat, don’t forget your arms.”  

He feels like a crab.  

A strain ached in his knee as he bent as he inwardly winced as it pulled when he rose, slightly shuffling his feet to readjust his position and avoid the strain.  

“Standing hollow-body holds! Arms up, inhale 4-count!” she raised her arms as she tilted forward,  

“Abdominals tight for 10 seconds, hold breath 4-count!” then exhaled as her arms faltered,  

“Exhale 4-count and release!”  

“Understand? Now start, two minutes!”  

This feels like a ritual...  

His brows knitted as he struggled to follow the rhythm, his movements stiff, knees still aching and he felt his chest tightening. He tried to imitate the others but in the end his movements felt sluggish.  

His breath gradually quickened as the seconds ticked, a faint haze of heat surfaced, simmering everywhere on his body as he missed another beat, exhaling too early.  

Suddenly, a voice rang out,  

“ If you’re panting in warm-up, you’re dead in choreography.” the tone stern as he felt eyes landing on him.  

The heat swirled and clustered as he tried to regulate his breathing and adjust his pace, the air swelling as his calves and glutes scorched, the burn persistently flickering while he restarted the sequence.  

His vision faintly blurred as a throe pierced in the back of his head, his breath not in sync with the beat as breathing gradually became burdensome.  

“Time!”  

“It’s the moment for the legs and hips!”  

-  

 “Stop!” Wi Kyungsoon shouted, all movement halted,  

“The warmup is done, 30-second rest and we’ll continue.” she said as she grabbed her tablet to change the music and quickly typed.  

Some trainees went to discreetly grab their towels as others drank water from their metal bottles, patiently waiting for the time to end.  

His chest heaved a trembling exhale as he wiped his neck, sweat dampening his fingers as a droplet rolled down his forehead, glistening under the lights of the room.  

He wasn’t drenched, but he was already aware of his limits.  

Curse this class.  

Then, someone next to him whispers,  

“It hasn’t even started yet.”  

He gazed down as he bit his lip, chewing the chapped skin as he tugged his shirt, ungluing the clinging fabric from his skin as a breeze passed through, alleviating the subtle heat.  

He glanced at his bag and slowly trudged towards it, fishing for his water bottle.  

“Emotional mapping time!” the instructor shouted as an empty melody commenced, soft presses of piano keys resonated in the room, no beat drop, no vocal cues.  

“This is how you listen, not how you look.” she paused, eyes brushing the room,  

“ Gesture the drops,” she said.  

“Not the obvious ones but the emotional ones. Where the music moves without saying it.”  

Befuddled expressions painted the faces of trainees, some shifted in confusion as others quietly listened to the quiet song.  

Thanks for the very clear instructions.  

“Is there a count?” someone asked.  

No response came.  

The puzzlement in the room grew at the lack of response from the teacher.  

Dokja blinked at the floor.  

He was confused too.  

What were they supposed to do, motion an airplane? Do a tree yoga position? Start doing pirouettes?  

What the hell does she means by gestures?  

He looked around him, seeing if anyone was doing anything; no one was budging.  

As the melody pulsed forward, a whistling synth rose from underneath the music, uplifting the empty tune.  

Some instinctively raised their arm, moving at the moments where the harmony swelled, others glanced elsewhere, unsure, waiting to see who would go first.  

Maybe he should just do whatever he feels like?  

He shouldn’t wait.  

Well – he shouldn’t dance, exactly.  

Just do random stuff and follow the music? He guessed?  

The melody continued, unminding of the stagnant room, fluttering through in its unblemished quiver, clustering the room with the empty notes it endowed.  

He shifted.  

He wasn’t sure what he was doing.  

All he knew was he couldn’t stay still.  

On the third count, when the chord warped like it was being dragged through water, he let his fingers flick outward, not dramatically, just enough to suggest pressure releasing.  

His wrist curved, eyes narrowing, his body barely moving, but there was a thread that snapped, flinching in his spine as the harmony pursued.  

Then, there was a sudden breath in the track, it was silent except something seethed in it, he tilted his head forward, not a bow, just a simple gesture.  

He heard it, he embodied it, not as complicated he thought it would be.  

A furl of a finger, a glide of the foot, a flicker of an eyelash, there was no overly grand display –– only intention.  

Subtlety, restraint, exactitude, he moved and whirled with it.  

He marked the syncopated lift with a shoulder slide and stopped then waited for the drop.  

The imperceptible one that sailed across the melody, that no one had noticed and let it land in his chest.  

The music ended.  

Silence hovered in the room, stuttering as breaths were absent.  

Wi Kyungsoon didn’t shift, she just raised one brow as a skeptical expression bruised her face and rapidly scribbled something down on her clipboard.  

“Choreography time!”  

-  

“4 bars total, 8 counts each. I will demonstrate the moves.” Wi Kyungsoon said as the music changed to a slowed, vocal-less version of a well-known pop ballad.  

It drifted in the room as its beat pushed in the background, the teacher wrote on a small white board, “Four bars long, muted and controlled.”  

She then dropped the white tablet and started.  

A glide-step with the right foot, slow and dragging, then a lift of the chest, not a burst, but something suspended as it warped into a clean arm sweep, palm facing in – neat and precise. The move ended in a pivot over one leg and a lean, one hand braced near the heart.  

Nothing flashy, no sharp angles, just restraint and precision.  

“Mark it with breath, not steps.” she paused and continued,  

“Follow my movements now.”  

She ran it again, but without counts, only weight and air.  

Dokja observed carefully, every muscle in his body tensed as he pursed his lips, trying to remember the transitions, the shapes, the balance that melded perfectly together, meticulous and light.  

He imitated it, left-foot glide, steady and focused, shoulder relax, loosened and alleviated, chest lift-  

His body slightly tilted as his balance quivered, brows furrowing as he tried to readjust, but he didn’t recover fast enough.  

The person next to him shot a glance in the mirror.  

-  

They broke the phrase down, bar by bar.  

It should’ve been simple and easy.  

Except it wasn’t.  

By the second run, his thighs burn as an itch scorched, aches pinched his shoulders from overcorrecting repeatedly his posture. He struggled against the urge to just stop everything and slump on the ground.  

Every pivot tugged and pulled at his ankle like a boulder was chained, dragging and burdensome. His body lagged half a second behind the beat, behind his ears –– he was going crazy!  

He swears after one week of this he’ll be locked in a room, a rubber room, a rubber room with tomatoes, and tomatoes drove him insane.  

He could hear where he needed to be, his timing was solid, but his foot wouldn’t land fast enough, his core collapsed when it should’ve sailed, his arm pushed instead of sweeping.  

He was going to get this!  

He wasn’t going to get locked in a rubber room with tomatoes!  

Or be tortured in the dungeon...  

Even when his arms lost shape, flopping like those spaghetti men in front of car dealerships.  

Even when sweat gathered at the back of his neck, drenched like when all the ice melted on Bae Emery’s back.  

-  

They were going to do pair runs.  

Wi Kyungsoon called them up two by two, dismissive of the nervous or confident expressions of the trainees as she stared at them with scrutinizing eyes.  

She didn’t call names or anything, just gestures.  

“You two, front.”  

She pointed at him and the guy next to him.  

His eyes blinked a few seconds before glancing next to him, the person next to him already moving to the front, Dance A – Vocal 2, tag was planted on the black shirt.  

He approached the center with reluctant steps, hands clenched as his nails grazed his palm, skin damp while the heat stirred, seething under as his heart thrummed.  

Several gazes bore into him, he bit his inner cheek, chewing the flesh as he waited for the familiar melody to start.  

Abruptly, the beat chimed.  

The person beside him moved with practiced efficiency, no energy wasted, arms cutting the air with clean lines and returned to the rest like breath reentering the lungs.  

Dokja followed, rather clumsily, the glide screeched against the polished floor, hesitation on the pivot, rendering it spindly, missed the lean by half a count.  

Though the technique was graceless, the expressivity wasn’t all that bad.  

When he lifted his chest, it suspended and sailed, reaching and trailing. Maybe he was offbeat, but he moved with the flow.  

The boy next to him stayed sharp, but his face was blank.  

The teacher didn’t say anything when they finished, just nodded for the next pair to come up.  

-  

It was the final group run.  

The class was split into two groups for the final performance, though no mirrors this time, they faced the wall instead; had to feel it from memory.  

It felt awkward staring at the wall.  

He stood in the first row, which he regrets after realization, but it was too late to change.  

The battering of his heart echoed in his throat as it hummed in his ears, the haze simmering, twirling and furling as it sank in his stomach and cluttered his chest.  

The music started.  

First beat, inhale, glide right, slow and dragging.  

He caught it.  

Second phrase, lift and sweep, smooth and clean.  

His arms faintly shook, but he held the shape, the ache still pulsed except it wasn’t as unbearable than before. His eyes followed the movement.  

A twirl on the pivot, unsteady, but he committed.  

Last lean, he didn’t plant it elegantly, yet when his hand hit his chest, it felt... something.  

The song faded out.  

He politely bowed with the others, slowly stepping back into his line.  

His chest heaved rapid gasps as he attempted to regulate his breaths, his calves seared with a barely tolerable burn, radiating slight pricks of pain like static, trembling. The faint heat gradually subsided, it no longer fluttered and swiveled under his skin emitting flickering waves.  

A sigh of relief left him as he rapidly grabbed his bag and left the studio, not wanting to spend another minute inside.  

He really needed to take a shower.  

-  

His body ploddingly descended into the soft mattress, the blanket covering him in a soothing warmth as the minutes ticked, the bright screen flashing in front of him as he read the latest chapters Han Sooyoung sent him.  

With a tired exhale, he dropped the phone face to his chest as he threw his head backwards, eyeing the wooden boards that hovered above him.  

He internally counted them, one-by-one.  

And resumed in his reading.  

Except his mind trailed as he kept reading the same phrase repeatedly, his thoughts elsewhere. His brows furrowed as he tried to draw his attention towards the white words on the black background, sadly his mind kept drifting towards the dance.  

He was tired, exhausted, his body ached.  

There was no reason to do it again – the class was finished.  

But an itch screeched persistently in his mind.  

He exasperatedly flung his phone in the blanket with a muffled thud as he flung himself on his stomach as shoved his head in the pillow.  

Wrapping the plush edges around himself as he suffocated himself, hoping to drown the screaming stings that plagued him endlessly.  

After a long moment, he sluggishly unfurled the white pillow, a rather detailed but distasteful dent of his face was imprinted on the white surface.  

He frowned before awkwardly rolling out of his bed with a grunt, plummeting to the floor swaddled in his blanket to cushion the damage.  

With a practiced movement, he unspooled himself from the comfortable cocoon, extracting himself from the addicting warmth and dragged his steps as he trudged towards the bathroom.  

He quickly entered as he twisted the knob and locked the door, flicking the light switch as the bright lighting illuminated the room.  

Dokja peered up at the mirror, glancing at his tussled hair and dreary eyes, he rubbed his pale, sunken cheeks, as he admired the glinting skin.  

Then caressed the dark shadows that still hovered under his eyes, well –– he couldn’t really complain since he didn’t do anything to get rid of them regardless of Uriel’s nagging texts.  

He inhaled a deep breath.  

And slowly counted in his head.  

First beat, inhale, glide right, slow and dragging.  

Second...  

Chapter 20: Mola Mola

Notes:

kind of short chapter
updates might slow down but ill try my best to keep them daily!!
Also happy birthday Yoo Joonghyuk!!! 🎉🥳
Enjoy! <3

It has been five days.  

Five days since a 49k people randomly decided to follow him –– except now it’s 51k.  

Five days since Mia hasn’t stop whining about how she isn’t able to watch Dokkaebi King.  

And five days since Kim Dokja hasn’t been able to talk to him because he was busy with training.  

It has been five days since his life has turned into hell.  

[Hating Arrival]: yall need to calm down like why you guys still thirsting over this man???  

[suspiciouslight]: right? Like leave if youre only here for his face and let us appreciate his gameplay instead of his looks???  

[prettypoisonprincess126]: thats rich coming from you cuz without people thirsting over him you wouldnt even be able to discover him  

[familygottawait]: LOOK AT ME HOT STUFF NOT THE NPCSSSS!!!  

[realtimecrash]: LOVERBOY YOU GOTTA START TALKING IF YOU WANT YOUR CRUSH TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AKA ME!!!  

[getbackbunny]: hes just ignoring us lol  

[Disco Heaven]: no but imagine you just want to livestream and play in peace then theres people in the chat who wants to have your children  

[hairsprayeverywhere]: them children gonna have good jeans  

[snowwhiteee237]: genes*  

[hairsprayeverywhere]: no jeans  

[bagofbones]: what?  

[finechampagne06]: HES GOING TO HAVE MY CHILDREN!!! GET HIM OVER HERE  

[sooodelicious321]: WHAT!!!???  

Joonghyuk frowned as he glanced at the slowed-down chat, sighing as he didn’t see the familiar name and approached the awaiting NPC with a shimmering item in hand.  

“Dear-”  

The lady was abruptly cut off as he pressed the skip button and the rewards of the quest were presented on his screen, a slender, silver sword with a gilded handle floated in front of him, a red tassel dangled from the side as a silver ornament embellished the weapon.  

[You have acquired: Ark’s Saintly Silver Sword x1, Ark’s Crimson Tassel x1]  

[Name: Ark’s Saintly Silver Sword  

Type of item: Weapon  

Nature: Enlightenment, Lightning  

Weakness: Benightment Hex  

Ability: Enlightenment – See more  

Rarity: Precious]  

[Name: Ark’s Crimson Tassel  

Type of item: Resistance  

Nature: Elemental Resistance  

Weakness: Benightment Hex  

Ability: Resistance – See more  

Duration: 30s  

Activation Conditions: Ark’s Saintly Silver Sword enlightenment  

Rarity: Precious]  

[excusemesir]: Poor lady she didnt even get the chance to speak  

[dreamingcostmoney]: DESERVED IT SHE IS NOT WORTHY OF SPEAKING TO THE SUPREME KING  

[twoslowdancers2378]: no one is worthy to speak to him in your logic  

[mouthchewingum]: NO IM WORTHY!!!  

[Luxurious Cripple]: GET OUT!!!  

[Oldest Dream]: STOP SKIPPING THE DIALOG1?1?!  

His eye widened as he spotted the message, he quickly schooled his expression as his character stuttered in his path, pursing his lips as he finally spoke,  

“Why should I read the dialog, Oldest Dream?”  

[crazypeoplejumping709]: OMG WHAT AFTER 5 DAYS HE FINALLY SPOKE????  

[Dissolvingpoison]: DUDE I GOT PREGNANT JUST BY HEARING HIS VOICE  

[Ilikemchunky]: what are yalls problem with being pregnant ( ˶°ㅁ°) ???  

[ Machine Poet]: im not pregnant hes pregnant (its my child)  

[catmanicure5491]: WHO THE HELL IS OLDEST DREAM???  

[Oldest Dream]: BECAUSE YOU GOTTA LISTEN TO THE STORY!!! CANT JUST SKIP THE DIALOG YOURE MISISNG ALL THE GOOD STUFF!!!!!  

Joonghyuk furrowed his brows as he read the message while browsing the in-game store, studying every items descriptions and purpose.  

“What is so special about the story?” he asked as he purchased a red bottle of poison, an ominous skull was painted on the sticker.  

[You have acquired: Distorted Corruptive Blood Poison x1]  

[Oldest Dream]: THE STORY IS THE BEST ASPECT OF THE GAME OF COURSE!!! ISNT IT OBVIOUS???  

[dumasorrow443]: nah gameplays better!!!  

[petroleumjelly]: IS U MAGIC HOE??? HOW DID YOU GET HIM TO SPEAK!!! ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ  

[paradiseofficial007]: WITCH!!!  

[telephoneringing357]: I agree tbh LORE BEST ASPECT OF THE GAME!!!  

[yourlocalforestranger]: WHOS YOUR CRUSH PLSS REPSOND TO ME!!!  

[crimsonrain800]: Is he that offended that hes speaking now??? ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?  

[Poisonous Virus]: WHO CARES HE FINALLY SPOKE!!! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-  

“Gameplay is better.” he closed the store interface and continued his way in the village, glimpsing at the nearby fishing pond.  

[Oldest Dream]: As if!!! Whats the point of playing the game if not for the lore!!!  

[Ivory Horns937]: GAME LORE FOR LIFE!!!  

[candyfloss4ever208]: Tell me your secret how do you keep getitng him to respond to you!!!???  

[girlnextdoor624]: Share with the class please!!! ♥  

[crawlingmechanicalligators]: Sharing is caring!!!  

[Kansas0Crisis]: WHO ARE YOU???  

A scoff escaped him as he approached the old man on the boat, a red exclamation mark hovered over his head.  

“Oh, hel-”  

[Quest: Djorkian Mythological Horrors of the Akliotlis Pond  

Difficulty: 89/100 | Hard | Recommended level: 60 +  

Monster types: Truculent Quag Crodules, Arkrian Sirens of the North, Crystalline Swell Octrites,???  

Required items: Scorched Swelling Fish Gill x1, Fishing Rod x1  

Recommended items: Ark’s Crimson Tassel x1, Black Jade Hex Flute x1  

Rewards: ???]  

[Accept?: Y/N]  

[Oldest Dream]: its not surprising you dont read game lore since you never picked up a book  

[Oldest Dream]: STOP SKIPPING!!@!!!  

Joonghyuk frowned as he clicked on yes, ignoring the vicious insult.  

[lovergirl742]: HOW DARE YOU INSULT SUPREME KING’S READING ABILITY!!!  

[famousinternetribe]: i mean... what about that picture of him reading a children book that his sister showed (｡•́   ̫ •̀｡)  

[lockeytothedoor215]: sshhh that doesn’t exist...  

[Pullswaybandage98]: DUDE DONT DO THE QUEST IT GIVES TRASH REWARDS  

[imprintsofoot]: It’s not trash it just depends on how you use it  

[metrocardanalysis]: nah its trash  

“Thank-” the old man was interrupted as a cutscene flashed the screen.  

The darkened, inky black sky hung over his head as dotted stars illuminated the night, overcast, feathered clouds cluttered the moon as its waning light radiated.  

The character stood in front of the obscured pond, soft ripples sailing across the water as he dug into his satchel, the faint shuffling of his hand sounded.  

He pulled out a folded, silken serviette and slowly unwrapped it, underneath was several slices of charred flesh with serrated edges as a viscid liquid covered it, gleaming under the light.  

The flesh swelled as it billowed, moving on its own, as if breathing.  

The hand slowly picked one of the swelling gills as it approached to his mouth and swallowed it.  

The character quickly refolded the silk fabric and shoved it back into his satchel before dropping it on the side of a tree and diving into the befogged water, darkening the screen.  

-  

The repeating plummeting of leaking droplets resonated as the faint steps of his character echoed in the dark labyrinth, the dampened stone walls harbored dried up seaweed as multiple strange plants intertwined with each other.  

[Oldest Dream]: READ THE RUNES!!! YOU KEEP MISSING DETAILS  

[Oldest Dream]: NO WONDER YOUR STILL STUCK IN THE TEMPLE!!!  

[Oldest Dream]: STOP IGNORING MEEEEE  

“It’s “you’re”, Y-O-U-R-E, not “your”, Y-O-U-R.” he continued walking in the labyrinth, intricately studying the walls to find clues.  

[attentioncherie9]: NOT THE GRAMMAR LESSONS  

[motoshaggg238]: you can see how annoyed he is LMAO  

[objectiontumens]: I NEED TACTICS! PLEASE PLAY INCARNATIONS WRATH AFTER  

[fishoutofwater691]: Dont worry youll get out soon <333  

[Truck BOOM]: Am I the only one who feels like the plants are breathing like tehyre gonna strangle him at any momemt???  

[vilainefille111]: nope thats normal  

[Oldest Dream]: YOU HAVENT INSPECTED IT PROPERLY GO READ IT!!!  

[Oldest Dream]: wait collect one of the plants on the wall its important  

“Did you play this before?” he frowned as he looked closely to the dangling vines, sprouting, velvety spots staining the plants.  

[Oldest Dream]: Nope just a gut feeling  

[Oldest Dream]: WAIT NOT THAT VINE THE ONE WITH THE BLACK SPIKY ORBS  

[lethimtrynot]: isnt the on ewith the spiky orbs poisonous???  

[drunkenurchins0]: no i think its the one with the white flowers  

[Scalded Tongue]: Why you telling him what to do if you never played??? (づ •. •)?  

[Oldest Dream]: Cuz he knows nothing  

He scorned as the animation of his character aggressively tugged the crimson vine, black orbs adhered to it with prickling thorns that cluttered its surface.  

[You have acquired: Amphibious Crimson Vine x1, Black Thorned Pearls x11]  

As the white notification appeared on his screen, he quickly opened his inventory to check the plants description.  

[Name: Amphibious Crimson Vine  

Type of species: Amphibious Plants  

Sub-species: Akliotlis Vines  

Nature: Water, Elasticity, Poison Resistance  

Weakness: Fire, Lightning  

Abilities: Rope, Nutrition, Healing – See more  

Rarity: Rare]  

[Name: Black Thorned Pearls  

Type of species: Maritime Creatures  

Sub-species: Akliotlis Creatures   

Nature: Water, Poison, Explosive  

Weakness: Fire, Lightning  

Abilities: Explosive, Poison, Nutrition, Healing – See more  

Rarity: Precious]  

“This isn't important.” he furrowed his brows as he read the descriptions of the abilities.  

[Oldest Dream]: Trust its important ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧  

[deeptime79]: its important so you do boom boom to the monsters  

[Room Temperature]: why do i feel like the third wheel here? (◞‸◟,)  

[baseballplayer931]: right??? Like get out so we can continue our time together we dont need a third wheel!!!  

[twirlingheadbaton]: LOOK AT ME LOVERBOY!!! IM IN LOVE WITH UU  

[steepstairsteps34]: i love how we can all agree that loverboy is his nickname LOL  

[chickhabitnofixes855]: Hey there loverboy~~~ im taking off my heels ♥  

[objectiontumens]: PLEASE PLAY INCARNATIONS WRATH AGAIN!!!!!  

He grunted, exploring the labyrinth once again to find a way out, as he walked more vines appeared, crowding the walls, cascading down.  

[Oldest Dream]: COLLECT MORE VINES!!!!  

[sugaronmytongue]: is it me or the vines kinda look like twizzlers but like also marshmallows making me hungry (⸝⸝๑  ̫ ๑⸝⸝⸝)  

[explotankation]: yk what youre kinda right  

[bowlspicynoodles23]: im getting dizzy from this maze man...  

[JUMP JUMP671]: LOVERBOY PLEASE TALK TO MEE!!!! I CAN BE YOUR CRUSHH  

[Oldest Dream]: actually can you use the pearls to destroy the wallsd????  

At those words, he slowly opened his inventory interface and checked the ability description of the creature.  

[Name: Black Thorned Pearls  

Fractured Obfuscate Core:  

Activation Conditions: Ignite a Flame/Strike Lightning  

Effects: --s necrosis poison -%, -- fire damage, -- physical damage  

Target: Water creatures, physical creatures]  

“Not possible.” he said as he closed his inventory.  

[Oldest Dream]: try it out  

[whitebeautydoctor345]: dude it literally says it cant do structural damage  

[galazyokravenus8]: I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR THIS LOVERBOYYY!!!  

[citrusporcelaintree]: i would like to have him in me  

[timeschangecuzchristmas]: HOLD ON!!! ISNT THAT A MINOR???  

[itslookingsosparklyy]: he never confirmed his age so who knows  

[mistermissusantique33]: i would impregnate him  

[freakydeakyfoulard]: please dont sexualize minors  

[intensegamersyo94]: he didnt say he was a minor???  

[SPEAK Louder5]: NOR DID HE DENY IT!!!  

[ticketorideee111]: its just a joke no need to take it so seriously...  

[cucumberairplane2]: how would you feel if people were saying they would like to impregnate your child who is still a minor???? why are people taking this so lightly its literally sexual harassment  

[blowingbubbles06]: people are so sensitive these days whatt  

[aquatichealthconcerns]: or maybe you people are too ignorant for real life concerns:/  

[nodoubtwegottadoit]: LOVERBOY WANNA JUMP IN MYU CAR/??  

[Oldest Dream]: IGNITE THE BOMB!!!  

“I’m not wasting the pearl.”  

[Oldest Dream]: itll work trustt  

“No.”  

[Oldest Dream]: yes  

“No.”  

[Oldest Dream]: yes    

“It doesn’t do structural damage.”  

[Oldest Dream]: it will work i have a gut feeling  

“I am not wasting the pearl.”  

[Oldest Dream]: its not wasting its experimentation  

A scowl painted his face as he relented and opened his inventory again, equipping the black orb.  

[intenseflightour]: i dont think you should waste your pearl man not worth it  

[trappedinabox21]: GO EXPLOSION!!!!   GOTTA GO BOOM BOOM  

[qwertyoasis2]: DONT!!!! THE PEARLS ARE PRETTY HARD TO FIND DONT WASTE  

[deuxgarconswww]: DO IT!!!  

With a click, a clamorous erupting sound resonated in the endless labyrinth as a blackened fog obscured his screen, several debris falling as a large hole indented the ground.  

The edges of the hole had ruptured, swelling flesh that faintly glistened with a viscous, red fluid that surged from the pierced punctures from the sharp debris and explosion.  

A husky growl hissed as the walls trembled, the vines gradually shriveled up into black dust, the dampened stone slowly crippled while the ceiling started to cave in.  

Underneath was a ground of mire as several jagged rocks cluttered, half-buried in the dirt.  

His character hurriedly jumped in the hole as his screen darkened, a deafening splash sounded.  

[Badge: Discovery of Mola Mola’s swallowed burrow of sunken cadavers]  

[Hating Arrival]: What the hell is that badge???  

[Machine Poet]: IS THIS A NEW BADGE??!!!??  

[ringringpickup884]: HOLY DID WE JUST DISCOVER AN EASTER EGG???  

[redpotaytohat6]: how the hell did that work? I thought the pearl couldnt do damage? Can someone explain??  

[dontneednowords53]: well guessing by the hole maybe the labyrinth was actually a water creature?? Not very clear but its the best explanation  

[Free Shots721]: how does one think of this??? Master Oldest Dream please show us your ways!!!!  

[Oldest Dream]: I TOLD YOU IT WOULD WORK!!!!  

A cutscene opened, his character laid on the ground as his eyes swept his surroundings.  

Towering shards of jagged rocks encircled him as a dense mist pervaded the area, obscuring the hole he had fallen into.  

The deep growls persisted, it echoed, whistling in the water as the ground quivered again.  

Suddenly, a colossal silhouette emerged from the heavy fog.  

Large, beady eyes stared at him, ink black as the small mouth stayed agape with elongated cuts traced the sides of it. Crimson blood flourished from the lacerations, swirling in the murky water.  

Its glistening scales shimmered as it faced him.  

Its mouth sluggishly opened, the blood flowing abundantly as serrated teeth were presented, several rows of them were scattered in the hollowed inside.  

Before the character could react, he was fully swallowed in the teeth ridden mouth of the creature, the sonorous sound of bones cracking and mangled flesh clinging to the sharp teeth resounded as a notification appeared.  

[Congratulations for being the first victim of the Mola Mola]  

A large, bold title was displayed on his screen,  

“You have died from the Mola Mola of Corrupted Hunger.”  

[Rewards: Sunfish Body (automatically equipped) - click to see]  

[New creature added in the species index – click to see]  

“...” Joonghyuk silently stared at his screen.  

[herbivoresgetaway]: LMAO IMAGINE WASTING YOUR PEARL ONLY TO GET A SUNFISH  

[rockyourbody11]: SHOW YOUR AVATAR!!!! WE WANNA SEE  

[cabbagesourpatch]: When the hell did this exist??? I DIDNT KNOW YOU COULD DO THAT  

[circusringleader5319]: got eaten by a Mola Mola LOL  

He reluctantly clicked on his avatar showcase.  

A silvery, blue fish appeared, its flattened, bullet-shaped body was enveloped in iridescent vines that intertwined with each other. Long slits extended all the way to its tail as small droplets of blood drizzled down its sides, staining the shimmering scales.  

[Oldest Dream]: THATS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT READING THE RUNES SUNFISH BASTARD!!!  

[seashellbikinis80]: WHY IS IT SO CREEPY I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CUTE????  

[Corn Sprouts]: i kinda like it LOOK AT ITS BEADY EYEESS!!!1  

[jokergotjokes69]: STOP I KINDA WANT TO EAT IT?? I FEEL LIKE THE BLOOD WOULD TASTE LIKE STRAWBERRY JAM  

[ITSTIMEEEEE]: am it the only one who wants to wear those seaweeds???  

The scowl on his face deepened as he rapidly unequipped the sunfish body and left the avatar showcase, respawning in the village.  

[Oldest Dream]: This time you have to read the runes!!!  

-  

getto names  @wishiwasalittlebitaller   

am I like the only one whos curious on who is Oldest Dream???  

cuz in all of supreme kings streams he never talked why is it only to oldest dream hes responding to??  

8:35 PM • Dec 14, 2008     

koi fishpond @lethecoolairin  

Replying to @wishiwasalittlebitaller  

prob like a friend or something??? but its weird how they never appeared in the previous streams so idk  

poison cake drops @poisoncakedrops00  

Replying to @lethecoolairin  

maybe they were occupied?  

sippin' on chamomile @chamomileluv4ever  

Replying to @wishiwasalittlebitaller   

or maybe oldest dream is supreme kings crush??? ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!  

princess poison> @seolhwaloyalsss  

Replying to @chamomileluv4ever  

Nah poison king FOREVER!!! #poisonking #supremebeauty  

bumblebee buzz @artofdriving39  

Replying to @seolhwaloyalsss   

they never interacted are you deadass????  

Idontspeakyour @communicationdifficulties742  

Replying to @artofdriving39  

supreme kings little sister literally said to seolhwa that he had a crush on her!!!  

broken symphony @brokensymphoniesss  

Replying to @communicationdifficulties742   

Are you still relying on that as evidence? His sister doesnt know his crush she literally went to people on the street saying they were his crush? you guys are really desperate for your ship to sail  

fallen apple @applethatfellfromthetree  

Replying to @communicationdifficulties742   

can we like stop shipping real life people??? like they are people who have their own lives they dont need others to tell them who to love and who to not  

gotta zoom @runningawayfast662  

Replying to @wishiwasalittlebitaller  

Best bet is that oldest dream is his friend cuz there is no way hes just randomly talking to a stranger online  

Notes:

originally i wanted yoo joonghyuk to play the mola mola game but it didnt exist in 2008 TnT