Chapter Text
(revised 02/16/2026)
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GASP!
The sudden whir of the air conditioner clicking on jolted San from his hazy daydreaming trance, causing his breath to catch as he blinked back to reality and took in his surroundings.
Sensations surged back all at once—the contrast of his warm back against the cold, wood floor and the thick, heady mix of stale sweat and the damp, earthy scent of old wood that permeated the dance studio.
San’s lids fluttered, his eyes gradually adjusting to the crisscross pattern of white panels on the ceiling. The background noise of the studio filled his ears, prompting him to turn his head and scan the room.
In one corner, Yunho and Mingi were huddled together, their knees drawn up as they shared a pair of wired earphones. They were muffling their laughter, their faces lit by the glow of Yunho’s smartphone, displaying a series of funny videos. It was likely one of those prank clips from their favorite V-tuber that San often heard them rave about.
San couldn’t help but huff a chuckle as he observed Mingi bury his face in the crook of Yunho’s arm, his tousled brown waves brushing against Yunho’s chin. Yunho’s reaction was a mix of amused discomfort as he tried to close his arm and gently push Mingi away, a quirky grin tugging at his lips despite the playful intrusion.
Just by their attire alone you could tell they were close friends, perhaps even best friends. Yunho and Mingi were dressed in the same style of hoodie, but their colors created a distinct variation. Yunho’s was a soft, cool grey, while Mingi’s was a bold black. They also wore matching jogger sweatpants, though with a playful twist: Yunho had on black sweatpants and Mingi was in grey. It looked as though they had humorously swapped pants, adding a fun touch to their coordinated outfits.
Watching their close interactions always brought San a warm feeling. It was a comforting reminder of the strong bond they shared; a reassuring presence that made their distant separation from family more bearable. Despite being far from home, they had each other, creating a family of their own within these studio walls.
The soft clatter of keyboard keys caught San’s attention next, pulling his gaze to the other corner of the room. There, Hongjoong sat on the floor, his heavy puffer jacket serving as a makeshift cushion, his back resting against the wall, and his laptop balanced on his legs as he typed away.
Hongjoong typically wore his headphones with one ear exposed, always ready to snap back to reality if needed. But recently, his usual composure was replaced by visible tension. His body was rigid, and his face, marked by a strained expression, exposed the weight of whatever was bothering him. Now, with both ears covered, he seemed desperate to escape into his music.
San noticed Hongjoong nervously nibbling on the sleeve of his muted yellow sweatshirt, just as the creak of a door opening to his left drew his eyes away.
Seonghwa tiptoed into the studio, carefully pushing the door shut behind him. He was dressed in a soft, light purple sweater, with a small bag of his favorite potato chips clutched in one hand. He crossed the room and slipped down onto the puffer jacket beside Hongjoong and settled down next to him.
Then, with a small, almost shy smile, he opened his bag of chips, picked one up, and gently nudged Hongjoong with his shoulder, holding it out as a simple, kind gesture.
Hongjoong glanced at the offering, his face marred by a faint frown.
Puzzled, Seonghwa mouthed, 'What’s wrong?'
Hongjoong didn’t respond. Instead, he merely leaned slightly into Seonghwa’s shoulder before returning his focus to his laptop. Sensing Hongjoong’s need for space, Seonghwa accepted the unspoken answer, sitting silently and nibbling on his chips as he watched Hongjoong work.
San turned to his other side, his eyes falling on the large mirror that spanned the studio wall.
The mirror, just centimeters from him, usually reflected his choreography missteps and timing issues, a constant reminder of his imperfections. He took a deep breath, striving to push aside the critical thoughts that plagued him.
As he stared back into the mirror, he fought to quiet his inner critic and simply focus on the present moment, letting his eyes explore his reflection.
His short, straight black hair framed his boyish features, blunt bangs falling neatly across his forehead. He wore an oversized white long-sleeved shirt and light blue jeans. A dark blue hoodie he’d brought along lay discarded nearby. He’d shrugged it off earlier, deciding his thin frame was already swallowed by enough layers.
Ever since their arrival, an uneasy feeling had settled over the group.
It lingered unspoken but obviously felt between them all.
A collective sense…. that something was off.
Hongjoong’s sour mood only deepened that feeling, as if he knew more about the situation than he was letting on.
But what could they do?
So for now, there was nothing to do…but wait.
Their group, consisting of seven members—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Mingi, San, Yeosang, and their youngest, Jongho—had been training relentlessly for months, fueled by the hope of debuting together as one unified idol group.
They had been expecting it any day now. That the CEO of their small agency, MQ Entertainment, would finally walk through the doors with news of their long-awaited debut. But instead, he remained out of the country, and that morning brought a far more unsettling surprise.
A text from one of the managers informed them that dance practice was canceled and instructed them to gather in the studio for a meeting.
The vague phrasing, "to talk" , offered no comfort.
Neither did Hongjoong’s growing absence from the dorm. The nights he spent away without explanation. His phone left unanswered despite their repeated calls and messages. It felt like pieces were shifting just out of sight and that the possibility that everything might change hung heavily over them.
The group arrived at the studio on the third floor of the MQ Entertainment building, their nerves alight. Following several minutes of waiting, one of the managers opened the door and called for Yeosang to step outside.
Yeosang’s puzzled and anxious expression as he left only heightened the group’s worries. His absence, with no sign of his return, put everyone on edge.
Hongjoong entered next with his laptop in hand. They tried to question him, but he instructed them to wait for the manager before settling into his corner, escaping off into his own little world.
The rest of the members retreated into their own safe bubbles. Yunho and Mingi diffused their anxiety with comedic videos while Seonghwa wandered off to fetch snacks to munch on his nerves.
Meanwhile, San lay flat against the studio floor, letting his limbs go heavy as doubt pooled in his chest. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment before turning his head toward the mirror, catching his own reflection just inches away.
His own eyes stared back at him.
We’re not debuting.
He thought, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation coming on, the fear of separation loomed large, and he dreaded the possibility of being cut from the group.
San knew he didn’t have the same foundation the others did. He felt it in every practice, in every time a vocal run slipped, every time he had to repeat a section of choreography one more time than everyone else. He worked hard. Harder than he ever had in his life. But sometimes effort didn’t feel like enough.
He hadn’t spent years in formal vocal training. He hadn’t grown up polishing technique. He wasn’t the worst, he knew that—but the possibility of being measured against the other members started to take form in his brain.
Yeosang may have been the one called out, but there was no way someone like him would get booted.
There was just no way!
Yeosang, who moved like water when he danced. Yeosang, whose visuals alone could anchor a stage. Yeosang, whose tone was distinct the moment he opened his mouth. It was impossible to picture the group without him.
So...If someone had to go…
San swallowed.
San’s mind continued to race with apprehension as he feared they might summon each member individually, leaving him as the last one standing, only to be told he needed to pack up and return to Namhae.
His stomach churned with anxiety, making him feel a bit queasy. Squeezing his eyes shut, he struggled to keep the swell of tears at bay.
“It's ok...Stay strong...Stay strong…just like your father taught you,” he whispered to himself, hugging his knees tightly. “We’re going to make it. You’re going to make it.”
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long wait, the door to the dance studio finally creaked open, and a group of staff members entered, accompanied by MQ’s head manager, Mr. Gim.
The members quickly rose to their feet as they greeted the newcomers with forced politeness. Hongjoong stood stiff, his posture betraying a barely-contained intensity but Seonghwa’s discreet elbow jab reminded him to bow properly.
Mr. Gim entered with his usual air of authority, exuding a refined charm that belied his middle age. His black hair was slicked back meticulously, with just a few strands of gray hinting at his experience. He was dressed in a navy business suit and wrapped in a black scarf that shielded him from the chill of the outside winds as he greeted them with an overly bright smile, his enthusiasm almost overbearing.
“Hello boys! I’m so glad you all could make it! I trust you’re staying warm and keeping in top shape despite the cold weather?”
Hongjoong stifled a scoff, his eyes momentarily glazing over, but another quick elbow jab from Seonghwa nudged him back to attention.
“Yes, sir, we’ve been doing our best,” Seonghwa responded smoothly. “But we’re curious about why practice was canceled today.”
“Ah, yes, that’s exactly why we’re here! Well… almost all of us. Where’s Jongho? Is he still at school?” Mr. Gim asked.
“Yes, sir. He had an important test to retake, but he should be joining us shortly.” Hongjoong finally spoke up.
“Ah, that’s unfortunate, but no matter! Since most of you are here, let me proceed with the introduction.” Mr. Gim cleared his throat, still beaming.
A ripple of curiosity swept through the group.
Introduce who? they wondered.
Just then, the studio door creaked open and Yeosang stepped back inside. Every head turned toward him at once.
That was when they noticed he wasn’t alone.
Close behind him, a boy lingered at his side, fingers lightly gripping Yeosang’s sleeve. He wore a black and white checkered hoodie that stood out against the muted tones of the room. He looked about their age, maybe even younger at first glance, but there was something guarded in the way he held himself.
His long, dark hair was parted down the middle and brushed neatly back, though soft wisps fell forward to frame his face. His eyes stayed lowered at first, lashes casting faint shadows over his cheeks, showcasing nerves he was trying to hide.
When he finally looked up and when his gaze met theirs, there was a spark there. Not confidence exactly.
But Determination.
“Everyone, this is Wooyoung! He’s joining the group, and I’m confident you’ll all find him a valuable addition. I trust you’ll give him a warm welcome and work well together.” Mr. Gim said with a cheerful tone.
The members stood frozen, their faces a mix of bewilderment and shock at the unexpected announcement.
Wooyoung stepped forward and bowed.
“H-hello, my name is Jung Wooyoung. It’s a pleasure to meet everyone, and I hope we can get along well.”
The room remained silent, the gravity of the situation hanging heavily in the air.
Yeosang shifted awkwardly, trying to break the tension.
“I’ve known Wooyoung for a while… he’s a good friend of mine. We trained together at BigShot Entertainment. He decided to audition here with me…with us.” He added a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to lighten the mood.
The group’s response was muted as they tried to process the sudden change.
Mingi was the first to break the silence, his voice laced with anger. “Doesn’t this make us eight members? Won’t that be too many?”
Hongjoong casted him a sidelong glance whereas Mr. Gim chuckled warmly, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand.
“Oh, come on! One more member won’t hurt. In fact, I think this will be a great boost for the team. Hongjoong, you saw his audition video and thought he’d be a good fit, right?” Mr. Gim’s enthusiastic pat on Hongjoong’s back drew the attention of the room.
Hongjoong hesitated before responding, his face reflecting the discomfort he felt.
“Yes, sir, I remember seeing his audition with the crew. But I didn’t realize it was for our group. Eden-nim and I, along with his team, have been working on several songs specifically tailored for the seven of us.”
“Ah, well that’s no issue at all. Eden-sshi and his team can adjust to this change without a hitch. They’re used to being flexible, and I expect you all to adapt in the same way. Wooyoung is very talented and will be a great addition to the group. He’ll be staying at the dorm and joining all your practices and lessons.” Mr. Gim said simply as he gestured toward Yeosang with a smile.
“It’s great that Yeosang already knows Wooyoung. It should make the transition smoother. I’m confident you’ll all get along and support each other.”
With a quick flourish, Mr. Gim pulled out his wallet and handed Hongjoong a sleek silver credit card.
“Dinner’s on the company tonight! Use this to enjoy a meal together and get to know one another better.”
Hongjoong stared at the card but didn’t take it immediately.
“Uh…Sir, will this affect our debut schedule?” Yunho asked suddenly.
The room fell silent again.
Mr. Gim met Yunho’s concerned gaze before turning to hand Seonghwa the credit card, then heading toward the door.
“With a new member joining, we’ll need to revisit our plans to make sure everything aligns properly and that you all support each other effectively,” he explained casually. “Don’t stress too much about the debut timeline right now. The focus should be on integrating Wooyoung into the team and making sure you all work well together. We have high expectations for you all, and I’m confident you’ll rise to the challenge!”
With a final chuckle and a wave, Mr. Gim and the staff exited the room.
The seven remaining members stood stunned. The prospect of their debut, once so imminent, now seemed uncertain, overshadowed by the sudden and unexpected change in their lineup.
“We…we were supposed to debut this year… T-they…they said we would debut…” San’s voice trembled as he spoke, his confusion and disappointment clear. All eyes turned to him, including Wooyoung’s.
“We have to start all over, basically…” Hongjoong’s voice was laden with the same sense of frustration.
“I’m really sorry this happened so suddenly, but it’s not the end of the world.” Yeosang sighed, trying to offer some solace.
“Yeosang-ah, this is a massive change. Why didn’t you tell us anything?” Seonghwa asked calmly.
Wooyoung, still holding his gaze downward, spoke up.
“Yeosang didn’t know I’d be joining. I told him I was auditioning, but we didn’t expect I would get picked so quickly.”
“Oh, right… So you’re just so amazing that you’re joining our group last minute?” Mingi responded harshly. Yunho placed a gentle hand on Mingi’s arm, giving him a warning glance.
“Mingi-ah, let’s not.”
Wooyoung bowed deeply again, his faced fixed on the floor as he spoke.
“I’m really sorry for suddenly barging in and disrupting everything. I promise I’ll do my best to work hard and make up for it.”
Nobody said anything.
Hongjoong grabbed his laptop and puffer jacket, muttering, “I need to make a call,” before heading to the door.
He closed it behind him with a quiet click. Wooyoung remained angled forward as the remaining members helplessly watched him in silence.
“We were supposed to debut this year…” Tears trailed down San’s eyes as the weight of the situation crashed in. “Are…are we not going to debut anymore?”
No one had an answer.
The door to the dance studio creaked open again, and Jongho stepped in, still wearing his heavy jacket over his school uniform and a beanie pulled low over his head. He froze, taking in the sight of a boy with his head bowed low, the other members' conflicted expressions, and San, quietly sobbing. Jongho's eyes darted around, confusion etched on his face.
“Uh, what’s going on?” he asked.
The room remained still, with everyone silently grappling with the same unspoken thought:
This newcomer…
This stranger…
This boy….
… had ruined everything.
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